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#WILL IS SAYING THAT YOU NEVER TALKED TO HIM AND SOMEHOW YOU THINK HE'S SAYING YOU NEED TO TREAT HIM LIKE
luveline · 3 days
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i would absolutely love a Hotch and stripper reader, him taking care of her after some kind of incident at her club or something? maybe a bit of angry hotch at the beginning, some angst? 💗💗💗
Your throat burns by the time his car pulls up. 
You take the butt of the cigarette from between your lips and ash it next to the first. Your hand is sore between the index finger and thumb from a bad stretch, aching as you press into your pocket for your stolen box of Marlboro golds. You’ll apologise for taking them some other time. 
You press the third between your lips and flick the lighter. You’re not good at lighting them, worse at the first inhale, your throat an agony that rivals the sting of your battered cheek. 
Shoes on the sidewalk, a scratch of loose gravel. Your eyes well with another line of tears that you work hard to hold in, taking another quick, cruel drag. They don’t make cigarettes long enough, in your opinion. They don’t last. 
He stops in front of you. Quiet, Agent Hotchner looks down at you where you’re sitting on the low wall, expression as steely as ever. You meet his eyes, worried your wobbly lip is giving you away, not sure calling him was the right thing to do after all. 
When he raises his hand to the cigarette you let him take it. His fingers wrap carefully around the butt of it, the side of his thumb brushing your lips. 
He flicks it to the ground and steps on it flat. 
You don’t say hello. It’s obvious you’ll cry, he can tell too, and he doesn’t make you. You wince as he raises his hand again, your eyes squinting closed, but he isn’t going to hurt you. His palm is warm where it cups your cheek, turning your face to the light emanating off of the club neons. 
“Do you know his name?” he asks. 
“No.” 
He raises your chin higher still. His frown turns to a glare, the brunt of which is directed elsewhere but intimidating all the same. His touching is gentle at least. 
“What happened?” 
“I told him no.” 
His jaw ticks. “Can I take you home?” 
You sniffle, turning your face out of his hand and down to your lap. He’s kissed you, he’s done more than that, but he knows you’d felt like you had no choice and so he’s giving it to you now. It’s exactly why you’d called him. It’s the man he is, and he should never have ended up looking after you. 
“Sorry I called you,” you say, hiding your face in one hand. Pain flickers behind your eyes as tears mount for the tenth time tonight. 
Hotch gives a sigh, sitting on the wall beside you. He wraps his arm behind your back and with a familiarity you need desperately. You press yourself into his side, sew your arm hesitantly over his stomach, the starch of a pressed shirt crisp on your clammy skin. 
“It’s cold out here,” he murmurs, bringing both hands to your arm, one to hold you tight, the other to rub your cool skin. 
“I think I want to quit.” 
He nods into the side of your head. “I think you should,” he says, “if that’s what you want… honey, you can do whatever you want.” 
“I don’t think I can. I’m trapped and it’s my fault.” 
“It’s not your fault.” He encourages your head under his, your face to his neck. When he talks, it’s a quiet, lulling promise. “You’re not trapped. I’ll do anything you need me to do. If you want an apartment, I’ll get it for you. If you want to shut this place down, I will. The last thing either of us want is for you to work here when you don’t want to.” 
“You don’t have to say work here like I’m not a glorified prostitute,” you say hotly, anger turned in rather than out. 
“You don’t really think that.”
Being a sex worker is complicated. You don’t know how you feel about it, and you can’t ever understand why Hotch would bother with you. You’d worried at first that your vulnerability is what attracted him, like a kid with a broken bird, but he’s proved a hundred times that your job is pretty much separate from why he likes you. He thinks you're pretty. He loves your voice. You make each other laugh, and somehow inexplicably he’s the first person you call when things go wrong. 
“Quit your job,” he says. “Even if it’s just to dance somewhere else.” 
“You can say strip.”
He nods. “You shouldn’t have to worry whether your ‘no’ will be met with a backhand. You know that breaks my heart?” 
You blink and pull away from him. He isn’t unemotional, but it’s a surprise nonetheless to hear him talk like this. “Aaron–” 
“Please,” he says. “I shouldn’t ask you to. But there are better places for you. You deserve more.” 
If it were anyone else you might get defensive. Only people who do your job could understand why you do it, it’s a hundred different things to you, but you do deserve more. You’re sick of leery men, sick of wolf whistles and bad tips and other people's hands. Hotch has never asked you to stop, but now he is, it’s to keep you safe. 
You can’t begrudge him. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. 
“No.” He rubs your arm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And I’ll make it right.” 
“It’s not your fault.” 
“I’ll make it right,” he promises. “No matter what. No one gets to hurt you.” 
You could quit. You want to. Even if it’s just for a couple of weeks, just so you don’t have to pretend you know what you’re doing. You’ll think about it in the morning. “Could I stay with you for a bit?” you whisper. “Just tonight. Please.” 
Hotch taps your back for you to stand. He stands with you, brushing down your coat, his eyes impassive where they look over your face, your purpling bruise. 
“You can wait in the car,” he says quietly. “I’m going to ask a few questions inside before we leave.” 
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How would the Bad sanses feel about kids?
Horror isn't a fan of how children have a habit of immediately bursting into terrified tears when they look at him. Kinda rude. He copes by deliberately scaring them; if a kid looks at him he pulls his scariest face. Might even say "boo" just for effect. Deep down, though, he does like kids - before it all went wrong in the Underground he used to dream about being an uncle to Papyrus' future children. When he's around you, he catches himself thinking about it... his own kids would like his face just the way it was, wouldn't they? So long as he was a good dad, it wouldn't matter what he looked like. That sounds so wonderful.
If he somehow finds a kid who isn't frightened of him, he will go full papa bear mode. Horror's the most likely of the bad guys to find a lost child and scoop them up.
Dust... avoids children like the plague. He shares Horror's habit of deliberately scaring them. He has a lot of reasons. He's a dangerous mass murderer, that's one; he also doesn't do great with noise. The sound of a crying or shouting child grates at him like nails on a chalkboard. Not to mention the fact that he's had enough of dealing with childish behaviour after a few hours around Killer.
... He also doesn't like being reminded of all the kids that used to live in his Underground. He doesn't like looking at little faces and remembering how Papyrus used to smile at him, the big brother who was supposed to keep him safe, the exact same way. The thing about having high LV is you get very used to being numb... those stabs of emotion, when they do get through, are too much.
He likes seeing you interact with kids, though. You're much better than he is, softer and kinder. Makes him think about what could've been.
Killer is great with kids. He's exciting, he's funny, he's got endless energy. He perfectly channels the 'fun uncle who clearly wants kids and would be an amazing dad', and the presence of children grounds him, taking the edge off of his worse traits and continuously pulling him down to reality. But he's also a terrible influence when left unattended. Give him an hour, and he'll be showing them how to properly hold a knife, telling them how crime isn't really that bad, and that they should totally just bite their bully as hard as they possibly can.
If a child lets him pick them up, Killer will constantly be trying to catch your eye. His huge grin speaks volumes; so when are WE gonna make our own one of these?
Nightmare says he doesn't like children. He definitely acts like it, too, he's cold and intimidating. But deep down, he's always wanted kids of his own - and he's bitter, because before he was corrupted he used to be really good with kids. Dream was (and still is) better at entertaining children but Nightmare could comfort the introverts; shy kids who cried around Dream would happily fall asleep on Nightmare's shoulder. Not anymore.
The thing is... when kids are around him for a while, you'll start to see hints of something underneath the grump. You'll notice he never raises his voice. You'll hear how his tone slips into something stern, yet calm. You'll see the 'strict but fair' edge to his sockets and mouth, you'll notice how despite all the talk of not caring his tentacles will ALWAYS catch anyone whose tiny feet are unsteady. There's a dad under there.
He's in no place for kids right now. But he does think about it - when you're around he thinks far more than he'd ever admit. He imagines giving someone the childhood he never had. If only.
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ms-cartoon · 2 days
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So, I'm looking at the trailer and hear Stolas say something like this . . .
"This transaction between us . . . i-it's not right anymore. I just want someone to care for."
I'm gonna assume he's talking about the exchange of the grimoire for sex with Blitzo. The deal that HE made in the first place????
Okay, first off- What do you mean, it's not right anymore?? NOT ONCE has it EVER been right! Making someone satisfy your pleasures in exchange for giving them something that's impossible to have and you never intended on giving them in the first place unless it benefits you somehow. That is called EXPLOITATION! Children . . . exploiting someone is NEVER a good thing! No matter how badly you want something to happen, it's never good to make someone do something against their will, and Stolas NEVER considered this! And even if he did, I doubt he would've cared!
Why is he suddenly caring now?
Because this is just another way for Viv to throw another Stolas pity party and she needs some kind of tension between Stolas and Blitzo so that their relationship can feel earned later. I think I have a pretty good feeling on what they're gonna make season two about.
This is gonna turn back into the "Stolitzo show" where we focus on the supposed "romance" between Stolas and Blitzo. How are they gonna go about it? Well, I think what's gonna go down is, instead of Stolas being in the wrong for how he treats Blitzo, they're gonna make the latter the bad guy for how he "treats" Stolas. Because blah blah blah, Blitzo doesn't love Stolas back, blah blah he's not considerate of Stolas's feelings for him, blah blah he's being mean, blah blah, he needs to give Stolas a chance. And at the end of the day, Blitzo is gonna feel all sorry and realize he loves Stolas, he apologizes to Stolas, the two are endgame and they live happily ever after! I'm calling it right now! With the way Stolas said what he said above, he's gonna make it seem like he's trying to reason with Blitzo saying the deal for the book is a bad idea as if HE wasn't the one that called Blitzo that one night and made that deal.
Do Viv or the writers ever THINK before writing these down??
Rhetorical quetion.
Edit (4/29/24) It makes no sense for Stolas to suddenly feel regret for this exchange as well as his feelings for Blitzo because of it. In season 1 he went from "Oh Blitzy! You're so hot! Let's have sex!" to "I'm actually genuinely in love with you Blitzo. Let's not do this anymore. I want to take this seriously." Out of nowhere.
Like-- In episode 6, he was lustful for Blitzo and made out with him by the end of the ep, and then suddenly the next episode, he's feeling all lonely and is innocently having feelings for Blitzo. WHERE DID ALL THAT COME FROM?? There was no ounce of development within those episodes!
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minniesmutt · 2 days
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⚠︎ ━━━ MINE
⚠︎ ━━━  WC: 2K
⚠︎ ━━━  CONTENT: FOOD METNTIONS, PRAISE, PREGNANT SEX, INNIE IS A GENTLEMAN, ORAL (F. REC), FINGERING, UNPROTECTED SEX, CREAMPIE
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     “You don’t have to go back home all the time, you know that right?” Jeongin groaned as Y/n cleaned up his living room from the pizza orders
     “I don’t wanna invade your space more than I have been,” Y/n said
     “You’re not. I’m the one who invited you over,” Jeongin told her
     “In,” Y/n whined as he stopped her from cleaning
     “Do you work tomorrow?” He asked as he sat her next to him on the couch again
     “No,” Y/n sighed
     “Stay the night.”     “M’kay,” Y/n agreed, “Let me finish cleaning though.”
     “No, sit,” Jeongin stood and cleaned for her. Y/n giggled at him and checked her email while she waited for him to finish.
     “What’s with the face?” Jeongin asked as he sat back next to her.
     “Email from my building management,” Y/n told him.
     “Everything okay?”
     “Yeah, just a reminder my lease is up in a few months and I need to renew it soon.”
     “Is he still on your lease?” 
     “No. I talked to the management about him the last time I had to renew. He never paid his half anyways.”
     “You gonna renew?”
     “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to afford to stay there anymore when the baby comes. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to find a place and move in before the baby gets here. I could move in with Hana again but I still have to talk to her about it.”
     “You don’t have to agree, but you could move in here. Make it easier when the baby gets here and not moving him back and forth constantly.”
     “In…” Y/n looked at him
     “I’m just trying to think ahead. You don’t have to, but I’m putting the option out there.”
     “I’ll take it into consideration,” Y/n told him as she closed her phone, setting it on the coffee table.
     The two sat back on the couch, continuing to watch the drama that Jeongin had put on when they were eating dinner. Y/n had adjusted herself to be more comfortable a couple of times before Jeongin suggested moving them to the bedroom so she could lie down comfortably.
    The two moved and Jeongin set her up comfortably on the bed under the covers and put on the show for them on the bedroom TV. Y/n rested her head on his shoulder as she kept her eyes on the TV. Slowly, the two somehow shifted closer. His arm wrapped around her while she rested on his chest. Getting interrupted by his phone as she was falling asleep, “Sorry,” Jeongin apologized
     Jeongin grabbed his phone and left the room to take the call. Y/n laid back and continued watching the show. Jeongin came back a few minutes later and got back into bed with her again. “Who called?” Y/n asked
     “My mom. Asked how the appointment went. Says congratulations on us having a boy,” he clued her in
     “Think she’ll help plan the baby shower?” Y/n asked as she looked up at him
     “She did ask about it. Offered the house to host it at.” Jeongin looked down at her 
     “I love your mom,” Y/n smiled
     “I’ll tell her next time she calls,” Jeongin laughed, pulling her closer to him again
     Y/n smiled up at him as her arm draped over his middle. Jeongin leaned his forehead on hers, returning the smile. “You look like you’re thinking,” Y/n said
     “I am.”
     “About?”
     “How I kind of regret saying to go slow because I kind of wanna kiss you. Especially after shopping all day…”
     Y/n leaned forward and placed her lips on his. Not giving him another second to think about it. It took a second for the man to respond then he wrapped his arms around her and held her as close as he could with her bump between them. 
     Y/n smiled and cupped his face. Both melted into the kiss as he rolled them both over so he was on top. His hands held onto her hips as the kiss deepened. Y/n moaned into the kiss before he pulled away and looked down at her. “You okay?” He asked, kissing her cheeks
     “Yeah,” Y/n said as he trailed his lips down to her neck
     Jeongin didn’t say anything as he pulled away from her neck. He reached over and grabbed a pillow from the other side of the bed, moving her to get the pillow under her for her back.
     “I said I was okay,” Y/n said
     “You fell asleep on your back three days ago and you woke me up at four am, yelling at me for not turning you on your side.”
     “I said sorry,” Y/n pouted
     “You’re lucky you’re cute,” Jeongin kissed her pout.
     Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, “Just cute?”
     Jeongin hummed as he returned to kissing her neck. “Cute. Amazing. Funny. Hot. The mother of my child. All mine.” he said between kisses, getting closer to her collarbone
     “Your’s?” Y/n asked
     “Mine,” Jeongin confirmed
     Y/n smiled as she looked up at him. His eyes seemed to be holding so many emotions. Jeongin leaned down to her lips again, pressing them together. Y/n moaned into his mouth. Jeongin mumbled more praises against her lip before he moved back to her neck again. Y/n moaned as he lightly bit the side of her neck. Her fingers grabbed at the hairs at the nape of his neck.
     “Wish I remembered the first time we slept together,” Jeongin muttered into her skin.
     “Second time?” Y/n suggested
     “Right now?”
     “Please.”
     Jeongin looked up at her, “You sure?”
     “I’m really good at begging In. I’ll do it.”
     “Another time,” Jeongin smiled as he leaned down and attacked her lips again.
     Y/n moaned as he adjusted her legs around his waist. Y/n could feel him growing as he pressed against her. Y/n tightened her legs around him while his hands slipped under her shirt. Pushing the fabric up while he slipped his tongue past the seal of her lips.
     Y/n slipped her hands from his hair as their tongues danced between them and worked on unbuttoning his shirt. Jeongin rolled his hips against hers making her moan into his mouth. His hands moved down from pushing her shirt up and unbuttoned her pants. Gently lifting her hips and pulling the fabric down. 
     He pulled away from her lips as she got the last button undone. Jeongin tossed off the shirt and the tank top underneath along with her pants. Y/n sat up as best she could before he helped her get her shirt and bra off. 
     “You’re so beautiful,” Jeongin muttered as he kissed her neck again 
     Y/n whined as he moved down. Kissing down between her breasts, over her growing stomach then over her clothed cunt. Jeongin laid down on his stomach as he put her legs over his shoulder after pulling the last bit of fabric off of her. 
     Y/n shivered as his tongue ran up from her entrance to her clit then his lips wrapped around the bud. Y/n grabbed onto the sheets under her as he all but devoured her. Jeongin moaned into her as he subtly humped the mattress. Mumbling praises that didn’t reach her ears but he would gladly repeat later. 
     “In,” Y/n moaned as his tongue just barely dipped into her
     “Yeah, baby?” He asked
     “Finger… please…” Y/n begged
     “Yeah? Need me to fill your pretty pussy with my fingers. So wet already,” He rambled as he pushed his middle finger into her.
     Y/n moaned as his finger curled up into her. Grabbing onto his hair to ground herself better. Just making the man below her moan as he continued pumping his finger in and out of her. Lips and tongue worked her clit as she moaned his name. 
     Jeongin slipped another finger into her, making her tighten her grip on his hair. He kept his pace steady while her legs tightened around his head. “‘M close,” Y/n whined
     He hummed in response and kept his pace steady. Helping her get closer and closer til he finally tipped her over. Her cum covered his fingers as he stayed there until her grip on him loosened. He gently put her legs back on the bed as he sat up and pulled his fingers out of her, licking them clean, taking pride as he watched her face flush. He pulled his fingers out of his mouth and leaned back down to her lips, letting her taste herself off them.
     “How you feelin’ baby?” He asked between kisses
     “Good. Need more.” 
     “Yeah? Tell me what you need baby.”
     Jeongin’s lips wandered again, making her lose her thoughts alongside her post-orgasm brain. “In…”
     “Words love. Need you to tell me what you need no matter how hard it is in that pretty brain of yours.”
     “Cock,” Y/n moaned
     “Where?”
     “Inside…”
     “Inside where? You’re pretty mouth or your pussy?”
     “Pussy… Innie please.”
     Jeongin hummed as he sat back and pulled off his pants and boxers. Chucking them onto the floor with the rest of their clothes. 
     “Condom?” He asked
     “Doesn’t matter. Won’t make a difference and I’m clean.”
     “I’m clean too.”
     Jeongin lined himself up with her entrance and slowly pushed in. He grabbed onto her hands and pinned them onto the pillow below. Taking his time to sink into her and letting her adjust to him. Retelling her all the praises that she didn’t hear earlier. Kissing her for the umpteenth time now. Letting her get used to him fully inside her till she begged him to move. 
     Jeongin sat up a bit but kept their hands together. Slowly pulling his hips back and pushing back interesting her. Keeping up the pace and not rocking her too much. Only going faster when she asked him though it was more like begging. Smiling to himself as her legs wrapped around his waist tight. 
     He leaned down and kissed everywhere he could on her neck, leaving a couple of marks he was sure would bruise later. Y/n gripped his hands tighter as he left his mark on her while his hips knocked into her.
     Y/n moaned as a certain angle hit the right spot inside her. Her back arching off the pillow just a bit. Begging him to hit there again. Jeongin happily obliged and repositioned them a bit to get to that spot again. Picking up his pace more as he twitched inside her. Orgasm approaching quickly. 
     “Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath as he sat up more, taking one hand away from hers and rolling his thumb over her clit. Y/n moaned louder at the added stimulation on her already sensitive clit. Her now free hand gripping the pillow under her head before the high blindsided her. 
     Jeongin groaned as she clamped down around him. Making it a bit harder but he managed. Fucking her through her high again until her moans turned to whines and he came inside her. Pushing himself into her and painting her walls white. Groaning a few times as he thrusted a few more times into her. Burying himself in her once he was finished.
     Both of them lay in the afterglow for a minute, catching their breaths before looking at each other. “Hi,” Y/n breathed
     “Hi mama,” Jeongin smiled
     “I like when you call me that,” Y/n smiled
     “Good. I’m gonna keep calling you that.” Jeongin leaned down and kissed her again
     Y/n moaned into his mouth before pulling back, “Getting uncomfortable?” he asked
     “Little bit,” Y/n answered
     “Let me pull out and get you cleaned up.” Jeongin pecked her lips before slowly pulling out of her before getting up to clean up. Going to the bathroom then coming back. Gently cleaning her up and fixing the covers and pillows before joining her back on the bed. Spooning her and rubbing her belly
     “Can I ask a bit of a dumb question?” Y/n asked
     “You’re questions are never dumb.” 
     “What are we?”
     “Mm,” Jeongin kissed her shoulder, “How does being boyfriend and girlfriend sound?”
     “I like that.”
     “I was just waiting for you to be ready.”
     “You’re too good for me.”
     “Think I’m perfect for you.” Jeongin chuckled behind her
     “Ego,” Y/n rolled her eyes
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To the Edge of Chaos
Chapter 1
Pirate!Gaz x Female Reader (of mixed Arab decent)
Safe to say your initial plan at robbery back fired in more ways than one. The second attempt went much much worse yet somehow by the mercy of God you aren't dead. Just trapped...on a ship...with no way out. Well not until you pay for your indiscretions made against a certain sailing master that is...
Was this a blessing in disguise? Or did you just enter a new kind of hell?
Warnings: MNDI mention of death, trauma and difficult situations, embarrassing moments, fluff and teasing, slight bullying, mention of kissing and other touching but nothing explicit, slight dub con if you squint, talk of death and mourning, crude language, attempted SA and torture (not by Gaz or the 141), Lots of blood and some gore towards the end of the chapter, talk of revenge, talk of heritage, sorry if I missed any.
Pictures are for aesthetic purposes only. They do not indicate the reader.
To the Edge of Chaos
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Words: 7.1k
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The Sun was sweltering, practically beating down molten rays on your delicate skin. You weren't used to feeling the burn of the afternoon sun. Your fragile composition wasn't adequately prepared for the dehydration that followed. Especially not with the light reflecting off blue waves almost blinding you. White entered your vision, shooting a stinging pain throughout your eyes.
You were overwhelmed, overbearingly so. So much was going on at once. Too much to pay attention to if you wanted to stay sane for a while longer. Burning heat, sweating palms, queasy stomach. Your legs found themselves moving towards the railing in a hurry. Strong winds, crashing waves, people shouting. Your ears buzzed, your brain's way of signaling an oncoming headache. One that was threatening to throw you overboard. Much like your breakfast.
Sweat trickled down your back as your body lurched with the motions of the ship, It caused your stomach to clench with unease. Your hands gripped the railing so tight that you were afraid the wood would come away with your swaying. But you still held on with difficulty. Why did everyone else make it look so easy?
You clearly weren't built to walk on ships it seems…
The hussle and bussle of your new surroundings was a welcomed distraction. Moving bodies, resulted in a busy mind. Busy minds had no time to mourn or to think about past sins. You preferred it like that. You hadn't had the time to fall apart. Not among strangers that is. A change in scenery would probably do you some good. But you'd be lying if you said you were adjusting well to it.
Having never done manual labour, you had a lot to prove to gain any ounce of respect from your new companions. Regardless of the fact that your presence here was forced. By your own doing but still forced. Escaping pirates was a lot more difficult than you anticipated. There was no use dwelling on your unfortunate circumstances that had led you to try to rob him a second time… the first time you chickened out pretty quickly.
Calls could be heard overhead for sails to be adjusted. It was probably the Captain. Captain Price as you were to call him. You haven't spoken to him since Gaz had all but begged for you to be let on board. Nothing out of the ordinary of course he was a busy man.
It was a busy ship. Easily over a 100 men and women, mostly men though. You hadn't had the time to introduce yourself to everyone but a few familiar faces were starting sticking out to you now. Some you definitely preferred to avoid.
Despite not knowing anyone closely you've already accumulated a nickname among the diverse crew. You didn't want to dive into the details of how they had decided on it. You were still lamenting the stupid decision that led to it.
“Watch yer head Fish boy!” The awful nickname rings out as the other crew members brush past you. You don't get the time to feel embarrassed as Farah calls for ropes to be adjusted from the crowsnest. You duck out of their way to the best of your ability. Your legs are still a little unsteady forcing you to grab onto the nearest structure to hold you up. Which unfortunately happened to be a person.
Whoever it was, they laugh as you clutch onto them for support while the rest of the crew go about their duties. It's only when you turn your head that you realise you've made a dire mistake. Dire to your self esteem that is.
His mirthful blue eyes bore into yours while apologies dripped from your chapped lips. Not that it would spare you from what you were about to experience. You flail about, desperately trying to find something else to hold onto. Desperately trying to find an escape from whatever it was he was about to subject you to.
“Come on lad! Find yer sea legs! Farah likes ‘er deck in tip top shape,” you watch the man who you now know as Soap or Johnny as Ghost liked calling him grab you by the back of the collar as you quickly wipe your mouth clean.
He seems a little childish to be stationed as a Master Gunner. But you didn't run this ship so it shouldn't bother you who had what job. But it did…it very much did.
Him having easy access to guns made your blood run cold because he was also the man who wanted you dead not long ago (not that he realises who you truly are). You shiver envisioning a situation where he did know. What would he do to you?
He hauled you over to where you were needed or ‘stationed’ to be more accurate. Not that you knew what you were doing but cleaning shouldn't be too hard. Or ‘swabbing the deck’ as Farah (the Boatswain) had put it. You just needed to stop making a mess first.
“Oh ye fragile thing! Come on scrub like ye mean it!”, he continues his teasing while you grab a brush to scrub the deck. The other men watch snickering to themselves at situations you've found yourself in.
“What? Never worked ah day in yer life? Ah don't think we'll keep ye long if ye don't cop on.” the men around you laugh again at his words, enjoying the torment he was putting you through. A right of passage if you will. Not that you appreciated it one bit. How many days will it go on for? You knew you weren't the strongest or the smartest for that matter but you were sure you could be of some use. You just needed to find out what it was.
“I'm sorry sir…I'll try harder”, you tense your aching muscles trying to put more weight down on the brush to appease the man behind you. The threat of being left behind at the next port wasn't settling well in your stomach. You felt you were about to be sick again. You looked around hoping to spot Gaz to aid you in this teasing but he wasn't around. Your heart sinks in disappointment as you continue scrubbing.
“Come on fish boi! Earn yer keep! You can't keep relying on Gaz to save you.” The crew around you join in on the jeering while shame creeps up your neck right to your ears. With your already heated skin. The situation was making your skin crawl.
You hated people looking at you so closely. It puts you on edge. Especially now that you couldn't wear your veils anymore. You were so used to being hidden that the attention wasn't at all welcomed. You haven't worn them since you escaped the dungeons of the palace. The whole ensemble would draw too much attention especially when you were disguising yourself as a boy.
“Ah pretty face ain't gonna cut it here. Not like it did for Gaz that is,” before Soap could reduce you to a pile of tears you watch Farah climb down from the crows nest pulling up her sleeves as she strides on over. Her mere presence demanded all your attention.
And what a woman she was..so much confidence in her stride alone. It made you feel both safe and inadequate all at once. You wanted to be like that, resilient like her, strong like her, fearless like her.
She delivers a hefty smack just as Soap's about to open his big mouth again. Which again is met with laughter from the crew. You see quite a few women laughing now too.
“Thats rich coming from someone who's warms the bed of our Quartermaster don't you think?”
“Hey that hurt! And besides ah have other uses apart from my pretty face unlike fish boi,” Soap rubs the back of his head to alleviate the sting while he turns to face the shorter woman. Yet it seemed somehow Farah stood taller, leveling him with an unamused look. You were surprised he was so open about his relationship but then again everything goes on pirate ships it seems. But before Farah can defend you another voice rings out across the deck.
“Actually he has plenty of uses, you just won't have the pleasure of experiencing them..”, the warm sultry voice that you hated yourself for liking makes itself known in the form of Gaz climbing onto the main deck from the side of the ship.
Must have been fixing something.
Your eyes roam his body, keying in on the sweat dripping down his open beige shirt. His brass necklace gleams around his neck. The amber stones adorning it as beautiful as they were, didn't come close to the beauty of his eyes.
Once you realise you were ogling you try to look away quickly as you could. But Gaz being the sly man he is, catches you at the last second despite continuing his conversation with Soap. A sinister smirk graces his features. One that you're all too familiar with. Especially when you share a hammock with him at night. He winks at you openly causing the crew to whistle at his gesture.
“I can't believe the captain allowed ye tae bring yer boy toy on board.” Soap jokes wrapping his arms around Gaz. They looked like old friends who enjoyed teasing each other. Soap certainly loves any chance to tease anyone in his vicinity.
“You hardly have the right to complain when you get to share a private room with Ghost.” Soap laughs at his comment and there's no offense in his eyes. You suspected he liked the attention.
“Perks or being pretty and useful it seems. I'm sure Ghost would have loved you too but I think I'm more his type.”
“Didn't know ‘annoying’ was his type. But then again it must be if he’s going to deal with your drunk ass all the time.” The crew join in on the jeering until Soap starts up again unfazed by it. Thick skin unlike you.
“You forgot about the part about me being extremely handsome.” Soap flexes his muscles earning him chuckles from the men and women around him.
“I think the power is getting to your head mate. Might have to put in a formal complaint with the captain.” Gaz smacks Soap's arm when he doesn't stop his ridiculous flexing. You watch as Farah rolls her eyes at their stupid banter before ushering Soap towards the hull.
“Run along, don't you have some actual work to do? Unless you want to go report to your lover as to why you have a handprint on your cheek,” she looks at him sternly
“Aye ah was just on meh way,” But before he leaves Soap pulls you into a headlock. It takes you by surprise as you try to worm out of his thick biceps.
“Work hard fish boi,” he laughs as you continue your struggle to escape. He lets go quickly but ruffles your hair which you assumed was his way of apologising.
He sends you off with a hefty smack to the shoulder. One that almost sends you flying to the floor. Farah shouts at him from behind voicing her annoyance. While you rub your shoulder to alleviate some of the ache.
Were men always this rough? Your experience with them was minimal so you weren't all that used to the touching or the rough treatment for that matter. You're shocked they even bothered to allow you on board after you tried to rob their star treasure hunter and Sailing Master but then again Gaz had insisted on you being here (to pay him back more specifically).
Your weary eyes find his again only to see him supporting an amused expression. He gives you a final wink before following after Soap.
“Ok back to work everyone! Ayah! Alex! On the foremast ropes, make sure they're secure.”
“Aye Didi” “Yes ma’am” You watch as another veiled woman and a blond man make their way to the foremast deck. The foreign words aren't lost on your ears. You recognise the few you learned growing up. Mostly from your wet nurse and your personal maids after your mother's passing. You bet she would have taken great joy in teaching you, were she alive today.
You only have old portraits to reference her appearance to. Well not even that anymore given your circumstances. Many of the crew members either spoke the language fluently or in broken terms. It left something wanting in your heart. Having been denied learning anything to do with your mother's heritage, a bitterness settles on your tongue at the loss of something you never got to experience.
“Don't mind him. He doesn't mean harm. The men here like playing about,” you hear Farah approach you with sympathy. You just nod at her, unable to look her in the eyes due to your mixed feelings.
The next hour is spent with Farah teaching you to keep steady and how to scrub the deck efficiently despite probably having more important work to do. She was patient and kind but still stern enough to get the message across. Like an older sister. She made it clear you'd need to pull your weight or you wouldn't be staying long on this ship. Once she leaves you go back to throwing water on boards and scrubbing them to the best of your ability. At least your nausea wasn't so bad anymore.
-some time later
You try to focus on work, truly you do. But your body was sore from the events of a couple nights ago. Events that have led you to work on this boat. Whether you wanted to or not.
Gaz was near the captain now with a map in hand planning their next destination to god knows where. It wasn't like you had a say in where you were going. Definitely not after what happened at the river.
The skin on your lips tingle with the memory of what he did to you in the early hours of today. Salty winds sting the broken skin where he last touched you. Where he last set your skin alight. Automatically your hand reaches up to the pendant around your neck. The fiery crystal hums under your fingertips.
The magic hiding your identity, tingles across your heated skin, a constant reminder that you weren't safe here. Not completely that is.
You were convinced that he was the devil's incarnate with the way he had you pliant within seconds of having his hands on you. The last couple of nights have followed a similar structure. With him ushering you to his private corner to do unspeakable things to you. Only a filmey curtain hiding you from the sleeping crew.
He must be the devil. It's the only logical explanation as to why your mind is riddled with thoughts of him even now when you should be focusing on earning your keep and staying safe.
But despite the chiding you've given yourself, your eyes still gravitate towards his radiant face. They still seek his mischievous smile for what feels like the hundredth time today. Probably over a hundred.
You've caught yourself looking at him far too often for it to be considered normal by any means. You'd think growing up in a royal household, your lessons in decorum would kick in at some point. But no, your mind has completely betrayed you and your body was following closely behind. You couldn't trust yourself to act with rationality especially not under his smoldering gaze. It's gotten so bad that you've even gotten a couple crew members teasing you for your crush. Despite everyone but Gaz thinking you were a boy.
You needed to get a grip on yourself. You had way more important things to worry about. Like surviving longer than a couple of days on this ship.
You didn't understand why that was proving more difficult than convincing someone pigs could fly. Hell, you'll have an easier time convincing someone pigs could fly than convincing them you didn't have a crush on Gaz.
You try to shut off your brain, try to focus solely on the tasks assigned to you. But flashes of his beautiful face still haunt your mind. They infect your senses forcing you to relive the moments you keep trying to push down. Memories of his hands on your waist, his lips on your skin, his breath fanning your face. Amber eyes striping you of your defenses.
You needed to get a grip. Easier said than done.
Those kisses don't mean anything to him. Not the kisses, not his feverish touches. That's what you keep telling yourself. It couldn't have meant anything to him. He was a pirate for one and two he had plenty of women throwing themselves into his arms.
What were you in that sea of women?
...Just another grain of sand…
That's what you've kept repeating since the incident at the river. Despite this you find yourself licking the sweet remnants of his smile off your sore bitten lips, the lips he forced apart with his tongue. The lips he stole the very breath from.
You're still unable to get the feeling of him holding your jaw ever so delicately out of your mind, or the way his hands found themselves over your throat the second you had touched his coin purse at the moment you had tried to rob him. Or earlier today how his hands slowly found their way to your hips and then to your…
Your eyes burn into the wood of the deck you’re scrubbing as a way to distract yourself from the forbidden events that occurred in the early hours of this morning.
-midnight, four nights ago
You were a fool, an utter fool.
God knows what gave you the confidence to think you could seduce a pirate. And a very handsome pirate at that. One that was surrounded by beautiful women while you were dressed like a servant boy.
The alcohol probably compromised your thinking for a little bit. Glad you came to your senses then.
The red pendant on your neck heated against your skin indicating it was working to conceal your feminine features. It was only a light glamour at best you still had to bind your chest in case anyone tried touching you unexpectedly. It was too dangerous to take everything off just to seduce him. He had a harem of women already hanging over his every word, what need did he have for you?
You could hardly compete with their full bosoms and beautiful curves. Not dressed like this anyway. You weren't competing with anyone dressed like a street rat. Maybe you could just ask for some work to do in exchange for some coins and then you'd be on your merry way to safety. Yeah that option was more diplomatic. You didn't want to steal if you didn't have to.
You mull around for a bit, coming up with the best approach to guarantee your success. The second you work up the confidence to approach him, you stride over with all the poise you can muster.
That was your first mistake. Because not even a second later the eyes of nine ferocious felines descended upon you like hell fire. You freeze in front of them like a lost cub. Playing the part of someone who was clearly out of their depth. Your hands shook as you tried to introduce yourself but you couldn't even find the resolve to utter a single word. Let alone maintain eye contact with anyone. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, much to the amusement of the woman and men watching you. Fuck..say something idiot.
Any poise you had prior to this vanished in the time it takes for a pirate to down his rum. Which you watched the majestic man do as you stood there frozen in place. The umber liquid trickled down his throat as you stared at his adam's apple bob. His sharp eyes studied you like a hawk on the lookout for prey. Licking off the remnants of the sweet nectar of his lips, his kohl covered eyes scrutinize you up and down.
Curiosity was evident all over his face. Heat followed his eyes as if he was appraising your worth, appraising your value. Practically sizing up meat to put on a butcher's block. The other men weren't much different. They eyed you with suspicion but also intrigue. You presume not many people come up to them asking for things.
The longer they stared, the quicker you wanted the ground to swallow you whole, wanted the shadows to consume you, wanted to dissolve in nothingness. The men of his crew began snickering to themselves while a woman put her arms around the handsome man's neck making sure to whisper seductively in his ear. But his eyes never strayed from yours nor did his expression change. Or the expression of the man beside him.
The woman's hard eyes locked with yours before she and her friends burst into laughter. You had no idea what she had said and you definitely didn't want to find out. Mortification painted your face while heat licked at every inch of your skin. With your nails digging into your palms you hastily backtrack still unable to voice a single sentence to save any ounce of respect one would have for themselves.
You escape with your head down low as the crew bellowed in laughter, clearly entertained by the spectacle you made of yourself.
You rush out into the cold night not looking where you were going only to collide with a brick wall. Great, make an even bigger fool out of yourself, why don't you.
You stumble back only for two large hands to steady you before you fall. Strong but gentle hands steady your feet.
“Careful there boi. Watch where you're goin,” a gruff voice rings out. Your body shuts down for a second before jolting back to life. You tint your head up only to realise you've bumped into the very man you told yourself to stay away from. His obsidian eyes pierced into yours, paralysing your tongue with fear akin to venom. The night air tore into your delicate flesh as you trembled in his oddly gentle grasp.
He was a ghastly sight. That alone was enough to have you shivering with fear. With a broken skull that seemed fused to his face it looked as if death had come to deliver you to an early grave. But before you could scream or try to say anything another person joins the conversation.
“Ghost…*hiccup* please..one more.. just..one more glass…promise ah'll be.. ah’ll be good old boi *hiccup*,” you watch the man with odd haircut stumble his way away from the walk to clutch onto the back of the beastly man who was holding your shoulders. The man let's go of you with a defeated sigh only to gently hoist up his friend who clearly had too much to drink.
“Enough of that Johnny I'm taking you back to the ship.” The man called Ghost gives you a final nod before helping his friend onto his back to carry to wherever their ship was. You watch the drunk man mumble his frustration as he rests his head on the bigger man's shoulder.
Maybe you were too harsh to judge him. He seemed decent enough for a pirate if not a bit rough around the edges. He didn't seem malicious though.
You take a second to catch your breath before tightening the cloak around you. The night air was chilling you to the bone and you had nowhere to rest. Best to keep moving. It was safer that way.
-a little while before dawn
The sky took on a lilac hue as the cold air eased up on its bite. You were exhausted, truly exhausted. Your feet were now trudging along with difficulty, but despite this you knew you had to keep going.
There were many streets you shouldn't have ended up on last night. Many times forcing you to make quick detours for your own safety. But somehow you still managed to almost get dragged into an alley, twice in one night alone. Thankfully you had a dagger on you, courtesy of your uncle.
It was an heirloom from your mother's side. Gifted to you on your coming of age ceremony by your father. The ceremony you remember disappearing from the second the important parts were over. The nobles never really liked you.
You laugh remembering that you spend the day hiding in the kitchen rather than greeting guests. That was this time three years ago. You don't think you've attended many events after that, not if you could avoid them that is. You wonder if your uncle was ok. Was the royal council in shambles at your disappearance? What were they going to do once they found out the execution wasn't going to happen?
Your mind wanders as you spot some merchants wheeling their goods to the market. The smell of freshly baked bread caused your stomach to constrict in pain. It's been a while since you've eaten well. The dungeons weren't the most accommodating towards you.
The food reminded you of more simple days when your personal maid would bring you fresh fruits and scones for breakfast. Faiza was her name. The daughter of your mother's personal maid. She was one of your best friends. One who'd often conspire with you on the best plan to avoid your classes for the day. That memory seemed so distant now. You wondered what happened to her after your arrest.
Law studies were never really your forte nor were any of the other boring and tedious classes you were forced to attend. Not that you actually attended them. It was done out of spite really. You hated the royal tutors as much as they hated you.
They denied you the knowledge you wished to attain. It was often snatched from you. Books ripped to shreds when you were caught with them. Your mother's history, her native language, her home, her heritage. You were denied everything. You were denied parts of yourself.
You don't understand why the marriage happened between your parents if all the noble families hated your mother so much. At least your father loved her.
Your father tried to help the best he could but his hands were often tied. Because of the guilt he held he never forced the role of crown princess on you despite you being the only heir to the throne. He valued your happiness above anything else. You suppose he gave you all the freedom he could.
But you're understanding now how selfish that was of you. Especially when you had duties to look after, people to care for. Funny how you only realise how good life was once everything gets taken from you. There was so much guilt in your heart, you felt disgusted with yourself. There was an urge to claw at your skin in rage. But you held yourself back.
You couldn't fall apart right now, not when you were so weak. The men here would eat you alive at the first drop of blood. Like hounds sniffing for prey, any cut on you would lead wolves to your den. You steel yourself the best you can, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill over.
Your heart ached with the memories of your father and a mother you never got to know. Now left alone with no family to turn to. You pulled your cloak around you tighter, mimicking the way your father would often tuck you into bed when you were little.
He was a kind and forgiving king and an even more forgiving father. Far too kind, far too trusting for his own good. But so were you. You had learned it from him. Neither of you saw this situation coming until it was too late.
Now death haunts you while guilt runs through your veins. You needed to prove your innocence. For your father's sake if not your own. But for that you needed money to survive. Which you didn't have much off. The last few pennies chime in your hidden purse. It wouldn't be enough, you know it wouldn't.
This side of the city was very different to the streets you were used to. There was an air of pain here you couldn't really describe or explain. Things were gloomier, more stout, less vibrant. You see children as little as four doing menial labour to survive. A sight you were never accustomed to. You keep your head low as you wander near the stalls.
One bread wouldn't hurt to take, right?
But that wasn't the right thing to do. You were raised better than that. The merchants seemed to be struggling themselves. Maybe you could ask to help in exchange for bread. The only reason you were going to steal from the pirates was because you looked like they had plenty to spare and the majority of it was probably stolen from some nobles anyway. So that knowledge made it somewhat acceptable in your mind.
You make your way towards the baker to ask if you could work in exchange for some food but before you can reach the market centre some naval officers saunter in from the east side. They were clearly drunk as they stumbled down the cobblestone road while mirthfully laughing at their own stupid jokes. You could practically smell the booze off them from where you stood.
“Oi pretty girl! Yeah you! Do ye have permits to sell here!” You watch one of guards stumble his way towards the stall of a pretty young woman. It's not long after that his friends are crowding her too. You watch them puff out their chest, trying to appear bigger than they were. They looked like fools.
“Permit? I w-wasn’t told about any permits”, the poor woman stands there perplexed by the question, unable to come up with an answer to the rapid words the men were spewing at her. She's fresh faced, new to business anyone could see that from a glance. Her stall is small with only a few flowers and medicinal herbs on display. Cowards picking on someone smaller than them.
“Yeah, a permit! You think just anyone is allowed to sell around the market!?”, you watch as a younger guard slur out his words at the poor woman. He was practically spitting his annoyance at her.
“I'm sorry sir I didn't know! Please forgive me! I'll pack up right away!” The woman hastily tries to pack and get away from the vile men but a blond bearded guard snatches her arms as she tries to put away her goods. Something boils in your blood as you watch the mannerisms they were subjugating her to.
You looked around perplexed that no one was willing to help. Everyone either ignores what was going on or looks away hastily to avoid making eye contact with the guards. How often did this happen?
“No can do sweetheart. We'll have to lock you up for the sale of illegal goods. Come with us!”, you watch as they try to haul her feeble figure across the road with them. She struggles and begs but no one does anything.
“Please sir! I have a sick sister to care of! Please spare me! It won't happen again!”, you're trembling with rage as you watch on but still unable to move. Fear grips your limbs cementing you in place.
Coward, do something! You have a dagger! Do something! Do anything!
“If you don't want to go to prison love, we have other ways for you to repay us,” the naval officers laughed as if this whole situation was a joke to them. You watch one of the men squeeze the woman's hips as she cries in pain.
At that point you don't know what came over but you grab the biggest rock laying nearby, hurling it towards the man who had his hands on her.
“Ah fuck! Who threw that!” The rock hits him square in the head, pretty hard at that too. Blood pools on his receding hairline as he clutches his head in agony. But you can't seem to care. Your nerves were vibrating and if no one was going to help, you would!
The whole group turns towards you in anger while hushed whispers circulate through the market. You watch as people duck behind their stall for safety anticipating the brawl they were about to witness.
“Me you stupid Pig!” In for a penny in a for pound as they say. You've already hit them once. What's a few more times going to do?
“Run!”, you shout at the sobbing woman before hurling rocks at the drunk officers. Adrenaline courses through your veins while you continue throwing your projectiles at them, taking great joy in their anger and pain. You watch the rocks soar through the air, landing on with a satisfying thud and a musical scream that follows.
At least your archery lessons paid off in some sense. Your understanding of range was pretty good. It was the most alive you've felt in a long time. Not counting the time you managed to slip truth serum into the punch at a ball. That was an extremely good day. So many snobby nobles got punished for insulting the royal family.
Well insulting you more specifically for your mixed blood. It's the reason you wore veils at events and in public. It would piss them off to no end. Since it was something your mother often used. Even your portraits are all with some sort of veil obstructing your face. You used it so often everyone's forgotten what you look like.
But now you couldn't wear it, it would draw too much attention since it was associated with your identity. And now that technically you were considered a boy. A cloak was the best thing you could find adjacent to what you used to wear.
“You stupid little prick! We'll drag you through the gutters for th- Fuck! Stop!��� You continue to land hit after hit as you watch the woman finally put a decent distance between herself and the men. She runs like her life depended on it while you continue your onslaught.
That is until you realise the guards were getting far too close for comfort.
“Just wait till we get our hands on you!” Their faces were flushed red from rage and it gave you some sick satisfaction that you were able to piss them off. Filthy swines, they deserved every ounce of pain!
You send a final rock soaring directly into the loins of the blond man before turning and running away as fast as you could.
“Ugh! I'll fucking skin you alive boy!” You don't get to hear the rest of his cursing as you skid and duck into a nearby alley. The men give chase, hot on your trail despite them being drunk. But you were well aware of how dangerous drunk men could be like. Especially men who had any ounce of power to wield.
You navigate the winding alleys with difficulty but are still able to manage to stay ahead for the time being. Buildings blur past you as you stay vigilant on your path. But running was proving to be difficult on an empty stomach. And your muscles seemed on the brink of collapse not long after weaving through alleys.
Winds whips by your face as you hold your hood in place to protect your identity. The small streets split into many smaller routes causing you to panic in your choice, you run right not familiar with the area.
A very bad choice it turns out to be. A wall blocks your way. The stone abrasive over your panicked hands. You hear their voice gaining up on you but you can't turn back. You'd be caught between them if you did.
Your mind races with a solution and the only thing you can do is try to climb over it before it's too late. Sharp stones dig into your delicate flesh while your arms scream in pain as you pull yourself up with great difficulty.
Your only halfway up when they come into view. Their bodies hunched over as their faces scrunched up in rage. Your legs dangle down as you try pushing yourself over. You're able to hurry over just as they try to drag your legs down. Their inhibitions were clearly lacking as they slurred curses at you as you escaped. You laugh as you hear the men groan in frustration.
Your relief is short lived to your utter shock. What you hadn't taken into account was that one of them had taken a different route and was now blocking your exit when you had climbed down, essentially trapping you between him and the wall.
“Nowhere to run now little mouse. We'll show you what we do to disobedient little boys.” He lears at you. The bleeding man looks ready to rip you to shreds. Your blood runs cold all the bravo you were experiencing had vanished in the matter of seconds. Despite this you prepare yourself to run past him.
But luck isn't on your side anymore. You try to swerve him in a panic, only to be thrown to the ground. Pain shoots up your elbow that slams into the stone. Fuck that hurt.
You hope you didn't break it. The rest of the men had climbed over by this point so there were three to your back and a large man to your front. Hastily you try to scramble to get off the ground despite the shooting pain everywhere, only to be kicked back down.
Your muscles scream in pain as the younger officer steps on your leg to keep you imobile. Your bone bends under the pressure threatening to break into two. Your nerve endings beg you to stay down, they beg you to surrender lest you break something. But you don't listen. You couldn't not when you knew what they were about to do to you.
“Don't touch me you pigs!”, you fight, you kick, you scream, you do anything to get out of their hold. Your body was ignited with rage you've never experienced before but it wasn't enough to escape the hold of four men.
“Shut it you brat!”, the man you had hit on the head tries to cover your mouth with his grimy hands while the rest of the men hold you down. But you bite down hard resulting in him back handing you as he screamed in agony. You spit out whatever filth entered your mouth, afraid it'll give you some disease. The second time he backhands you, you feel your lip slit. The metallic taste felt heavy on your tongue as blood coated your mouth.
“Hold him down idiot!”, the vile man shouted. While you continued to fight with all your might.
“I'm trying!” Greedy hands roam your body trying to unbutton your cloak. But you continued your fight, continued the struggle. Your skin crawls with disgust. This time you land a mean kick to the groin of the person trying to take your clothes off.
“Ugh You stupid bastard!” Their pain gives you enough momentum and shock value to grab the dagger in your boot to slice across the men holding you. They scream and move back enough for you to dig the dagger deeper into the man blocking your exit. The vile bastard you had no remorse for.
A spray of blood splatters across your face as you pull the dagger out of his thigh with a sickening squelch. The warm liquid felt odd on your chilled skin. It pooled around you like a spreading disease.
Blood curdling screams bounce off the walls surrounding you. But your hearing is obstructed by blood rushing to your ears. The noises don't deter you as you continue slicing across the air and their skin as they try approach you.
You're pretty sure you might have sliced someone's finger off since it lay on the floor beside you. But you couldn't stay to make sure it was your doing.
Everything from that point is a blur, you're covered in crimson. Red sticky fluid painting your hands and knees. Your body forces you to block out their curses and screams. The walls are stained red. Bodies lay covered in pools of blood. It was all too much.
You run, you don't look back, eyes always ahead. Dagger heavy in your hand you continue running, passing by unfamiliar streets and houses until only your heartbeat could be heard by you.
Red stained your vision. It haunted your sight. It was everywhere, absolutely everywhere. Blood on the ground, blood on the walls, blood on your hands. Skin marred with deep gashes and cuts. Sticky substance coating everything. Severed body parts. Streams of red chasing your feet. A river of red was carving its path towards you. The trail was leading to you.
You push it down focusing on yourself. Your heart, your breathing, your pain. Nothing else, only you. Only you. You needed to worry about you. Streets blur until they start getting sparser and sparser giving way to familiar green lush. A serene haven at the edge of what felt like a crimson hell.
It's only when you break away completely from the hard stone roads do you collapse onto the grass gasping for air like your life depended on it. The wretched smell of metallic iron finally dissipates if only a little bit. You left like you could breathe again.
You look back making sure the city is out of sight before you try sitting down for a second. Your heart continues to hammer as you look down at your blood stained hands, dagger still held tightly.
What have you done..Did you kill them?
You don't get the time to dwell on it when you hear distant shouts of people screaming. They know…the blood is on your hands..of course they know…
Hide! You needed to hide!
Using a nearby tree to haul yourself up you try to find your footing again. Your muscles scream at you to stop and rest but your mind told you to run. And run you do. Deep into the forest where the trees shrouded your sins. Where they blocked out the screams.
You needed to find water to clean the blood away. Something to wash away the sin….
Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.
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f0point5 · 3 days
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Jealous Emilia after they get together plss I am beggingggg cook this for us plssssss 🙏🙏🙏
Not me rewriting this no less than four times and still hating it 😂 but it’s not going to get any better haha. This was hard to write because I actually don’t see Emilia as the jealous type. I kind of drew off a lot of her known insecurities and alluded to her kind of struggling with the “wag” role a bit so it’s not just her reacting poorly to Max being fawned over by a girl because I don’t think that would be true to her character. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!
✨Set in Jeddah 2024✨
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And I’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you
If there’s one thing to be said for the Jeddah paddock, it’s pretty at sunset. You watch people moving through the paddock bathed in golden light. The ground looks like the yellow brick road. Even though it’s getting cooler now as it gets closer to qualifying, you still choose to sit inside Red Bull hospitality. You’re also sitting inside because Max said he wanted to hang out before quail. Even though he’s spent the last forty-five minutes talking to one of the hospitality guests.
Amy, something or other. She races GT cars in some series you’ve never heard of. You’re not sure what connections got her the invite to the garage but Max had been herded away by one of the media reps to take pictures with her so she must be someone’s daughter. They seem to have hit it off, you note. He’s in full maxplaining mode, bending down to the line of his own hand as he illustrates what looks like an apex. Amy isn’t even watching his hands, she’s watching Max. Hazel eyes just sparkling as she memorises every inch of him. Yeah, you know that look well enough.
And it’s not that you mind. He likes to talk racing, he likes racers. It’s not like you know what it feels like to driver a car at top speed, and more importantly you don’t want to know. The hot laps with Max were more than enough. You can’t be everything to him and you don’t need to be. You tell yourself you don’t want to be. It’s good he has other people to talk to, because it’s not like you can ever really understand his competitive streak. The man who knows nothing except how to win will not always be able to relate to the girl who has always been too afraid to lose.
No, it’s not bothering you that Max is talking to her. It’s bothering you that she has the most obvious crush on him since…no, actually, this is the most obvious crush ever. She’s played with her hair so many times you just know karma is going to make her bald someday. You hope you’re there somehow.
“Hey,”
You jump at the sound of Checo’s voice. He sits down at the end of the table, brandishing Kitkat, which he slides over to you.
“Max has made a new friend,” he says, nodding in Max’s direction.
You tear open the wrapper with far too much aggression. “So I see,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant.
“She races, right?”
You nod, biting into the chocolate. “GT, apparently,”
“Lots in common,” Checo says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “You have to watch your back,”
You know he’s joking. You know that in no universe are you in competition with her. And yet, his words sink under your skin under your blood is curdling at the sight of Max laughing at something Amy says.
“I don’t have to watch anything,” you say with shrug, turning towards Checo. “If she can take him she can have him.” You push your hair over one shoulder and run your tongue over your teeth.
“Whoa,” Checo chuckles, throwing his hands up like he’s being faced with a hungry lion. You suppose since he has a wife, he knows the look well enough. “I was joking.” When you don’t react, he shakes his head. “It’s Max,”
You know what he means. It’s Max, not Chuck Leclerc. It’s Max, not Danny Ric. It’s Max, not Checo. But it’s Max. You don’t have to worry he’s going to lose his mind over the actresses or supermodels, but he sure seems to be respectfully admiring his female alter ego.
It’s like he can sense you thinking about him, it’s uncanny, really. Out of the corner of your eye you can see him walking towards your table with Amy in tow.
Fake smile, it’s fine, she’s just a fan.
Max introduces you, and you smile and shake her hand and ask her if she having a nice day, because you’re Max’s girlfriend, so you owe it to him to be polite. She has no such obligation, although you might be imagining her flinch when Max says the word girlfriend.
“I think it’s the best day of my life,” she says in answer to your question. The telltale flicker of her eyes in Max’s direction as they sit down almost making you roll yours.
Max doesn’t notice, he’s more interested in taking your Kitkat out of your hand and taking a bite. He bites it so that all four sticks have the end missing and you wear you’ve never been so disgusted by this man. For a second, you think Amy can have him.
“Amy races GT cars, like the ones we tested in Portugal,” he says to you now, his hand disappearing under the table to rest on your thigh and trace circles with his thumb like it’s a habit. “We are just talking about setting up a test for her with Verstappen com,”
Oh, great. So not only is she utterly bewitched by the ocean eyes, you’re making her dreams come true. Fan-fucking-tastic.
“Ah,” is all you say, sharing a look with a smirking Checo.
“That would really be such a dream come true,” Amy says, and you almost laugh. “I’m a big fan of yours, I think it’s so cool that you’re involved with things outside formula one. You should come to a race sometime. I owe you paddock passes,”
You met him three hours ago, and he isn’t even the one who invited you. Do you owe him a blowjob as well, Amy?
“Yeah. Our schedule is a bit hectic but yeah, it would be good to fit that in soon,” Max says, turning to you. “Right?”
What am I? The secretary? Because in case you didn’t notice, she didn’t fucking invite me.
You just shrug.
“GT racing doesn’t exactly draw the influencer crowd,” you are definitely not imagining the way her eyes slide over to you before she looks back at Max to say, “it’s really good racing,”
You zone out right then and there. It’s like your brain short circuits from the energy it’s taking not to reach over, grab this girl by her stringy extensions, and rip. If she and Max keep talking, you don’t hear it. You don’t want to hear it. You notice Checo noticing your discomfort, even as he engages the other two in conversation. For all his quirks, Checo reads human behaviour much better than Max. Though you don’t need to be a body language expert to see how much this girl likes him.
She looking at him like she wants to eat him, hanging on unspoken words, fingers twitching on the table like she’s desperate to touch him. And he’s nodding along, because they’re so aligned that whatever she says he agrees with, and the maxplaining is one-handed now but no less enthusiastic, and you’re about to dig your nails into his skin because he is not going to have one hand almost up your skirt while another woman is flirting with him.
All these thoughts are interrupted by the appearance of one of the Red Bull media managers.
“Amy, we were hoping to get some pictures of you with the car, if you’re free?”
“Yeah, sure, one second,” she says, turning to Max. “Which way is the garage again?” Like she doesn’t have someone who clearly just came from the garage standing right next to her.
“Just through there, keep going straight,” Max says, pointing to the corridor with engineers walking in and out. You give the girl the benefit of the doubt that she’s not that stupid, just desperate.
Reluctantly, she gets to her feet. “So, I’ll give you a call to set up the test?”
“Yeah, sure,” Max says. “Or you can call Raymond. He’ll put your team in touch with the right people,”
“Okay, awesome,” she says, leaning down enough that you can see right down her shirt. “It was really great to meet you. And I meant it about the GT race,” and then, as if remembering she can’t be rude, she glances at Checo. “You guys, too,”
You wave her off, and your smile doesn’t even fall. Because it’s funny. It’s funny that a grown woman would behave like that in front of a man’s girlfriend. It’s funny that a woman gunning for sponsorship would behave like you does regular shifts in something called the “Champagne Room”.
And it’s absolutely hilarious that Max turns to you, without a care in the world, and says, “I’ve got such a headache. I stood up into the cupboard in the garage, it hurt so bad,”
You give him tight smile and pull out your phone to text Lily to see if she’s still with Alex or if she’s free for a catch up.
“What?” You hear Max say above you. You ignore him. “What? She the-“ You look up just in time to see that Checo is mouthing something to Max. “Jealous?”
“I’m not jealous,” you snap, leaning back in the your chair to glare at both of them. They give each a mocking grin. “Yeah, very funny,” this sets them off snickering like school kids. “Fuck both of you.”
You get up and stalk through the room and back towards the garage. You don’t even know what you’ll do when you get there since being Max’s girlfriend had put an end to you just wandering down the pitlane and allowed in any garage. Maybe you’ll just try and find GP. If Max doesn’t catch up to you first. You can hear him calling you.
“Leibling, wait,” he’s right behind you now, and you hear him almost stumbling as he leans forward to catch you by the wrist.
You shrug him off, but stop at the door to his driver room and push it open, jerking your head to order him inside. He may be a dick, but he still deserve for the whole team to know his business. He steps into the room, reaching for your waist but you move out of his way and leave him to close the door while you lean against the physio table on the other side of the room.
He sighs when he sees how you’re looking at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. I mean, I did. Not at you. I didn’t think Checo was being serious,” he defends, and by the end of his sentence he’s fighting an incredulous smile and you squeeze the edge of the physio bench to stop yourself pulling your hair. Or his.
How can this guy understand complex tyre strategy but not basic human interaction?
“You didn’t think he was serious that I was annoyed by someone flirting with you in front of me?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow. “And that I wouldn’t be annoyed at you making fun of me for it?”
Max scoffs. “She wasn’t flirting with me,”
“Oh, please.” You let out a scoff of your own. “You didn’t notice me flirting with you for three years, do not pretend you’re an expert,”
“I noticed,” Max argues, “I just didn’t take it seriously,”
“Which is why you have no leg to stand on,”
“Right, because I was just supposed to believe that you suddenly-“
“It wasn’t exactly sudden-“
“For God’s sake,” Max groans, an expression of abject confusion twisting his face. “What are we even fighting about?”
“You enjoying Lella Lombardi over there slobber all over you, and enjoying it,” the exasperation gets worse when Max’s eyes widen like this is the first he’s hearing of this entire discussion.
“I’m- she- what?” He splutters, his head shaking in disbelief. “Is this one of those Tiktok pranks?”
“I get that she’s a pilot and that makes her automatically interesting, but until I hear otherwise, you’re still in a relationship,”
Max looks at you like you’ve grown a second head; shock, concern, and a good amount of unadulterated disgust. “You can’t think I was looking at her…like that,”
The way he says it, like he’s afraid to catch cooties, like it’s it’s inconceivable, like you didn’t still have bruises of your hips in the shape of his fingertips, takes all the fight out of you. Checo was right; it’s Max. It’s feels like someone’s let all the air out of a balloon. Your shoulders slump and you sigh.
“Because that would be crazy?” You lift yourself onto the physio bench as you speak. You’re not even really sure what you’re asking. “Max Verstappen, who likes only one thing on earth, that one thing being racing, attracted to another driver rather than his influencer accessory girlfriend?”
“Actually, I like two things,” he says with that boyish smirk that has been making your stomach do backflips for longer than you care to admit.
“Stop laughing at me,” you whine, fighting the urge to smile.
“I’m not. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that she upset you. I’m sorry that I upset you,” he says, taking a careful step closer to you, but he stops there. “Even if I don’t know what I did,”
He really has no idea. He is painfully, adorably clueless.
“Nothing,” you say, because you don’t know either. Sometimes it’s just inexplicably overwhelming being Max Verstappen’s girlfriend. “Just you being you, I guess,”
Max frowns at that. “I didn’t know being myself was so offensive,” he mumbles, and you instantly feel guilty. You of all people shouldn’t make him feel bad for how much space he takes up. You of all people know how much that bothers him.
“No, it’s not that. It’s not-“ you struggle for a way to explain it. Max takes the opportunity to cross the rest of the room and stand in front of you, his expression telling you he’s waiting for you to finish. “It’s not about who you are, but sometimes the way people act around you is just…and you’re so used to it, you don’t even…you just forget who you are sometimes, Max,”
He nods soberly. “Yeah. I do, and I’m sorry,” he says. He hooks his hands under your knees and pulls your legs apart and slots between them as he drags you to the edge of the bench so that you’re pressed against him, leaning back to look up at him. “But I never forget who you are, which is the most important bit,”
You can’t help but smile at him. He’s so simple. And not because he’s unintelligent, but because he’s guileless, because who he is has never scared him. He smiles back, and it’s unguarded and unbridled and you almost forgive that girl because you’ll be damned if you don’t have a crush on him, too.
“Was she really flirting with me?” He asks curiously, looking down as his hands find your and entwine your fingers.
“Oh, yeah,” you say, and he frowns, the wheels working in head as he tries to figure out how he didn’t notice. “Like me at your mum’s on Christmas Eve in 2020 level of obvious,”
“Well,” he says with a huff. “She just blew her chance at a test,”
“You don’t have to-“
“Wait, you were flirting with me at Christmas at my mum’s?”
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moonlightperseus · 2 days
Text
breathe in the feeling
ambiguously set after the first half of s7 | 867 words
Being in love with Buck wasn’t an option.
It can’t be an option.
Because if it was, Eddie might do something stupid, like kiss his best friend.
Which is—not an option.
Eddie’s done that song and dance before, and that ended badly—leaving and being left, divorce papers, blood on hot asphalt.
But the thing is, Eddie can’t stop thinking about it. It’s been over a month since Buck came out to him, and Eddie can’t stop thinking about how Buck is an option now.
Which isn’t even entirely true, because Buck is with Tommy—Buck is happy with Tommy—and Eddie feels like his entire world is collapsing in on itself.
He broke up with Marisol last week, something that up until this moment, he hadn’t told anyone, not even Christopher—which he knows he can only avoid for so long.
He’s not even sure why he’s telling Bobby, because now Bobby is staring at him quizzically and Eddie is feeling closer to a panic attack than he’s been in a long time.
“You broke up with Marisol,” Bobby repeats back to him, because he’s been waiting for Eddie to continue and Eddie has made a point out of staring at his hands and not saying anything as his brain spirals. “Do you want to talk about that?”
“No,” Eddie says, because he really doesn’t—but he sucks in a sharp breath and rips the band-aid off anyways, “I think I might be in love with Buck.”
Bobby doesn’t say anything for what feels like an eternity.
Eddie finally gives in and looks at him, Bobby’s face is a carefully crafted blank expression—he’s processing the information Eddie has given him, but he’s not going to give any reaction in the meantime.
Eddie resists dropping his head against the table and instead settles for staring at the dormant alarm bell on the wall and hoping for it to start ringing to save him from this situation.
“I see,” Bobby says finally, “that’s… that must be a lot for you to process.”
“Understatement of the century,” Eddie mumbles, allowing himself to drop his head into his hands—it’s not quite as satisfying as the thunk of his forehead against the table would be.
“So how long have you been… processing this?”
“I don’t know, a couple weeks, maybe—” —my whole life, possibly, he doesn’t say.
A hand lands on his shoulder, the touch is gentle and grounding, and Eddie is reminded of why he went to Bobby in the first place.
“Eddie,” Bobby says carefully, “there’s nothing wrong with it—being in love with Buck. If that is how you feel, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
Eddie exhales slowly, because that’s the whole thing, isn’t it? “I know that—logically, I know that. I’ve never had a problem with—I guess it’s different, when it’s yourself. But it’s not like it’s even—I mean, Buck’s with Tommy—Buck’s happy with Tommy—and Tommy’s my friend too, so it is kind of wrong, in a way.” 
“Buck being in a relationship with someone else doesn’t make your feelings for him invalid—or wrong. Sure, maybe it’s a little complicated since you consider them both friends. But whatever you’re feeling—you’re allowed to feel it.” 
“But what am I supposed to do with it?” Eddie finally meets Bobby’s gaze, “I mean—I feel like I’m lying to Buck, somehow, by feeling this way—by not saying anything.”
“Maybe you don’t have to do anything with it, at least—not right away,” Bobby squeezes his shoulder before removing his hand, “maybe right now you just let yourself feel it. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be honest with Buck, but I think maybe you should start by allowing yourself to be honest with you.” 
Eddie stares at Bobby, completely and painfully aware of his own heart beating in his chest, it’s not a panic attack, but he knows it’s a warning sign. 
He takes a moment to breathe slowly, the way Frank taught him. Bobby says nothing, waiting patiently 
“I don’t know what that looks like.” Eddie says honestly. 
Bobby offers him a kind smile, “That’s okay, you don’t have to have it all figured out, but maybe allow yourself the time to really think about it?”
“What if I lose him?” The words spill out of him unbidden. 
“Eddie, if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that you and Buck have a way of finding each other, no matter the circumstance, the two of you will always fight to find each other again.” 
Eddie blinks, and for a moment, all he sees is Buck, covered in Eddie’s own blood, begging for him to hold on. 
He blinks again, and the memory fades, and it’s just Bobby sitting there in front of him, watching him carefully.
“Let yourself feel it, Eddie,” Bobby says gently, “and when you’re ready—talk to Buck.”
The bell rings then, because timing never seems to be on Eddie’s side. 
Bobby sighs softly, “well, duty calls.”
Bobby stands to head towards the engine bay, but before Eddie can do the same, Bobby rests a hand on his shoulder again, “I’m really proud of you, Eddie.”
He lets the words settle over him for a moment—breathing slowly in and out—and then follows after his Captain. 
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wasabi-gumdrop · 2 days
Text
thinking about modern au Kabru
ivy league college student, probably studying law and political science on a full scholarship. first time living away from Milsiril so he has to promise her, yes mom i’ll call you at least four times a week, no mom i don’t need your amex black card, yes mom the normal credit card is fine i need to learn how to budget like a Normal Person (it has a limit of $20k — that’s not normal Kabru).
Milsiril insists for a long time that she’ll just get him a house off campus so he can have his own space (aka a place she can drop by anytime and possibly live a few months out of the year just to be close to him) but Kabru puts his foot down and tells her the best way he’s gonna make friends is by living with other students (bye mom).
his floor in the coed dorms is the party floor and he always makes sure to invite everybody (his nightmare is accidentally leaving anyone out and having them think that he doesn’t like them). somehow it’s always a good time, everyone leaves with more friends than they came with, it never gets totally out of control, and plenty of girls who are interested in him (and a lot of guys too tbh) bring tons of baked treats so there’s always free food. Kabru is the RA’s favourite person to have in the building (even though Kabru himself is messy but most of the people he’s friends with are nice and clean up after themselves).
he has a porsche (Milsiril gift for his 16th bday) but he’s adamant about not driving it unless he absolutely has to (because he doesn’t wanna look like a douche). BUT he never says no when his friends ask for rides (so he ends up driving all the time anyway). he actually contemplates selling the porsche and going for a more practical car but Mickbell is like ‘dude you are not taking this away from me.’ Kabru sighs and decides to keep it because his friends (Mickbell) like being chauffeured around in a fancy convertible (Rin, Holm, and Dia don’t care, they’re just glad they don’t have to walk to the grocery store).
he’s probably on a casual texting basis with most of his professors and you know he’s going to all their office hours, grabbing beer with them just to keep chatting about life outside of school. and that’s how he winds up in some super secret faculty group chat where he’s now privy to all the college administration gossip.
Kabru is elected for student council during his freshman year and he’s probably the favourite to be sc president one day.
he doesn’t really date (gets too in his head about how he doesn’t wanna ruin any friendships) but he does hang out one on one with a lot of girls and treats them all really well. he probably goes so far out of his way to be platonic that he flies a little too close to the ‘Just Like One of the Girlies’ sun, he kinda forgets that most people interpret it as flirting coming from him. which leads to a few awkward conversations. people feeling led on, a few angry jealous boyfriends, scathing dms about him being a girl stealing homewrecker.
it’s such a nightmare for him and he needs it to end right now. so he begs Rin to ‘date’ him for a week or two and then publicly dump him just so the entire student body gets the message that he is Just A Friend.
Rin stares at him for a few seconds. then she laughs. she laughs and laughs. she laughs for a crazy long time. and then eventually she goes, ‘wow you’re an asshole, Kabru. no i won’t be your fake girlfriend. you’re gonna suffer and i’m going to enjoy it.’
and that’s when Kabru has a moment of enlightenment. ok yeah. asking for that is probably really selfish and mean. maybe he needs to think about girls’ feelings more and that’s maybe more important than his deep seated need to be liked, and when has Rin ever been wrong about anything.
he apologizes. and so begins one of the more serious talks he’s ever had with Rin about being okay with not being liked.
he thinks he can really turn over a new leaf. the whole ‘not worrying about what other people think’ thing goes pretty well — up until Kabru meets the aloof professor for his Monsters and Myths class who keeps forgetting and mispronouncing his name.
Kabru has never needed someone to like him So Bad, he needs Prof. Touden to like him as a matter of life and death, and he’s willing to look stupid for it (fails a midterm on purpose to justify begging for one on one tutoring)
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The Man 6
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen
Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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You stare at your phone. It can’t be. After everything else going wrong, you can’t deal with Floyd. It suddenly makes sense why he was messing around with your phone. Ew, he’s kind of a creep.
You don’t answer and put the phone away. Well. You have no money, you’re about to have no home, and your milk is spoiled. Don’t panic. You can figure this out. You’re an adult, aren’t you?
First, go to the bank. You need milk. Once you have a coffee, you’ll worry about the whole eviction thing. You leave the convenience store and open Maps to look for the nearest bank kiosk. Not too far, one block. At least you’re getting your steps in.
You follow the directions on screen and turn to cross the road. You’re so distracted, you forget to look both ways and nearly get hit by a gleaming bumper. You wave a head but don’t look up. You need to get to the bank.
You come up to the pulsing blue dot and glance around. Huh. You don’t see a bank. You turn around and face the ATM built into the side of the building. Oh goddang! You walked to a bank machine, not a bank. Is it you? Are you the problem?
You drop your shoulders. Alright. You’ll just try again. You scroll to the next location and spin around, nearly colliding with a new wall. Oh, not a wall, a person.
You look up at Mr. Henson as he watches you with a line between his brows. Somehow, you’re not very surrpised. This guy is everywhere. It’s almost like he has no hobbies.
“Oh, hi, sorry, excuse me, I’m just on my way to the bank--”
“Ah, running short? Need me to spot ya?” He raises his hand, showing a black credit card.
“Um... noooo,” you utter in confusion. The other day, you ran off after calling him names. You really don’t believe he’s changed his stripes. He’s still a snarling tiger getting ready to feast. “Thanks, but I--”
“Things are tight. Job market’s trash, housing isn’t any better, and those banks,” he whistles and puts his card away, “they like to fuck around, don’t they?”
You look at him, scrunching your face up.
“Y-yeah. Weirdly, I did just get a notice to...” your voice trails off. “Why are you bugging me?”
“Bugging you?” His brows pop up and he guffaws, “oh, sweet lips, you’re funny, you know that?”
“Yeah, I know few jokes but--”
“Think a little harder, cupcake,” he lowers his timber and stares at you.
You blink and wet your lips, pushing them together. Think about what?
“Look, about yesterday--”
“I’m talking about today,” he insists.
“Sure, uh...”
“Do I really need to spell this out for you?”
“Spell what out?” You cringe, clawing for some hint of what he means.
“Your bank card isn’t working, right?” He asks, you nod. “You’re getting evicted.” Another nod. “You have no job.”
You make a face, “yes, okay. Rub it in. Alright. I get it. You’re some important guy and I’m a loser. Don’t worry. You own this city but I think I’m on my way out.”
He sighs and presses his fingers flat on either side of his nose. He drops them and opens his eyes again, “it was me. I’m the reason you—Don't you understand what I can do to you? I got you fired, kicked out, and poor in one day. What else do you think I could do?”
Your chest hollows out and your stomach lurches. What? Him? He just doesn’t stop.
“Sir, what—why would you—I'm sorry I called you a meanie. I was upset and the coffee, I tried--” You sniffle and shudder out a half-sob, “I didn’t mean to.”
“Yeah, well, you shoulda shut those sweet lips and opened those ears, huh?” He grins, “look, cupcake, you’re not going anywhere. You try to run back to your family, I’ll find you. Your mom’s a good lady, you shouldn’t trouble her. She doesn’t make enough teaching brats to put up with another one.”
“My mom—how--”
He spins his finger in the air, “catch up, honey bun. Alright? This is it. I’ll lay it out real clear for you, right now. You have no money, no home, you have nothing. You are nothing.” He jabs his finger at you, “so, I can solve all your problems and make you something.”
You look around. There’s really no way out. He’s a psychopath. You think. You don’t really know the difference between that and sociopath.
“Are you like CIA or something?” You ask.
He scoffs and flinches, “oh man, you are something else. Really, each time you open that mouth, I’m blown away by the idiocy. Rather just get blown, you get it?”
You shake your head and pout.
“Look, I think we can sort this out, Floyd. Really, I’m really sorry and I understand now. I get it. You’re very important and I messed up. I’m nothing and I did everything wrong. And from the bottom of my heart, I apologise. So, can I please have my life back?” You say, “I think we’d both be happier if we just went on our way and never saw each other again.”
His eyes dart away and he stares into the distance. Exasperation wrinkles above his brow and he looks back to you, hands on his hips, “too late, buttercup. So, let me put it as plain as I can. You don’t get a choice. You belong to me now. Just like everything else in this city. You are mine.”
“You can’t... do that.”
“I am doing that,” he insists. “Another thing,” he raises his hand, showing his palm, “it’s Lloyd.” He emphasizes the consonants of his name, “Lloyd Hansen. You can call me sir or Mr. Hansen. Hell, if we’re getting frisky, you can call me daddy.”
“Ugh,” you groan in disgust and curl your lip.
“Ugh?” He mimick the noise, “I’m about to--” He shakes his hand and sucks in the end of his sentence, “fine. Show, don’t tell. Got it.”
You cry out as suddenly he lunges at you. He grabs you by the back of the neck and hauls you forward down the sidewalk. He marches beside you as you writhe and paw at his large hand. You whimper, helpless as pedestrians move out of your path.
“Your mouth got you into trouble, now let’s see if it can get you out,” he growls.
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thegoldencontracts · 2 days
Text
Housewardens with a Tsundere!Reader (Pt. 1)
I've seen this a lot, and I wanted to share my own takes on how I think they'd act! This is a part one, including Riddle, Leona, and Azul.
Summary: You're tough, brash, and rude, getting snippy at all those who try to approach you. All for the sake of covering up your soft side. How do the housewardens react?
Notes: Romance, GN!reader
Contains: Riddle, Leona, Azul
Riddle Rosehearts
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He thinks your behavior is highly improper.
When he first approaches you, you do not hesitate to screech that he's an idiot.
He can and will try to collar you if you're getting particularly loud.
All in all, he thinks you and your defensive, brash nature are utterly infuriating. If you hit him, expect to be collared. You're just- so annoying.
...So why does his heart race whenever he's around you?
That's right. Riddle's also a tsundere (sometimes, at least)
And that means you two are evenly matched
Poor Trey often has to watch you two and your constant bickering, and your occasional stammering.
You yell that Riddle's an idiot, he says you're a buffoon who never learned to respect the rules. Both of you secretly like each other. It is painful to watch.
You make Riddle lunch and you claim you just had extra. Of course, he responds by denying his appreciation.
Who will confesses first? It really depends on whose friends decide to finally intervene.
All in all, you two have a cute yet infuriating to watch relationship.
Leona Kingscholar
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He doesn't have time for you, or so he thinks.
When he first sees you, rebuking you for encroaching upon his territory, you call him an idiot for thinking anyone would ever take his ridiculous territory claims seriously.
You're not off to a great start. Leona is very likely to try and make you put your money where your mouth is.
...With a game of chess, of course! Leona just woke up and doesn't feel like particularly like fighting right now.
That, and, he doesn't know why, but he really doesn't feel like getting you hurt.
Considering just how good Leona is, there's a very good chance he'll absolutely demolish you.
But if you manage to win, he'll definitely be impressed.
Either way, he'll tell you to stop bothering him. You huff, and say he was the one bothering you, and that's that.
Except it isn't. Of course, somehow, the two of you end up stuck together. First you're paired up in a joint class, then you're both locked in the botanical gardens during an emergency, and then Ruggie keeps making the two of you talk.
Leona hates it. Considering the way you huff, you do you.
Except, once again, neither of you do.
You actually try to get closer to Leona - despite the roundabout, brash way you go about it - and he hates that he likes it.
Your average interaction at first consists of him telling you to 'get away, herbivore', and you yelling at him to 'stop bossing me around, idiot!'
But slowly, he stops pushing you away. And you warm up with time too.
You're weirdly friendly - though sometimes, your insults do genuinely get to Leona. You'll apologize in that roundabout, flustered way of yours, and though Leona rarely vocalizes, he'll accept.
He doesn't want to lose you, after all, no matter how much he pretends he couldn't care less.
Leona doesn't confess first. You don't confess first. Ruggie confesses first on both of your behalfs, and though Leona plans to chew him out at first, when things work out, Ruggie quickly finds himself on the receiving end of countless donuts.
While dating, both of you will likely be softer with one another.
Once again, very cute relationship, and both of you are so harsh and yet so soft with each other at the same time.
Azul Ashengrotto
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At first, Azul genuinely dislikes you. Your posturing, your pride, the way you seem to look down on him with your endless insults reminds him of those who bullied him.
But, Azul isn't that same little octopus anymore. He's grown used to insults, sadly. He's been looked down on all his life.
Your words mean nothing to him. They're a slight sting at most.
Overall, he'd just like to stay away from you. The moment you first met, you told him to "S-Stay away from me, you scheming idiot!"
Then, when he - in an attempt to stay smug despite his burgeoning temper - asked you if you were scared, you replied that you could never be scared of a slow, clumsy loser like him.
Slow, clumsy, idiotic octopus. That's what they called him as a kid.
And then, he sees your cuter moments. The more endearing ones. And he can't help but feel his heart flutter against his wishes.
God, Azul hates it. He hates how cute he finds you, how his heart races whenever he's around you.
Love is a position of vulnerability. Azul's meant to take advantage of it, not be the one stuck with it!
And, well, Azul's never known anything but rejection when it comes to true connection. Even the twins always insisted they were nothing more than his business partners (though the accuracy of their claim is rather dubious).
And you? You're going to mock him for sure.
Truth be told, Azul's scared. He's scared of what'll happen if you find out about the budding feeling in his chest, and he's scared of being laughed at by someone who he can't help but love.
So, of course, he tries to keep his walls up. Never drop that smug air of his. Never let you see the burgeoning fear underneath.
But that doesn't work out. You do manage to squeeze out the cracks in his facade, but then you laugh, saying he should really drop that infuriating smug face and do this more often because it looks cute, and he doesn't know what to do.
People aren't supposed to love this side of him. Least of all you. You're always insulting him, after all!
And yet, you think he looks cute like this. He hates how much his face flushes at that.
Now that Azul's developed a crush, he can't deny that, now, there are times when your jabs get to him. He doesn't say anything. He can't. He had to remain composed, because otherwise he's opening himself up to endless mockery.
But one day, it gets to him, and he finds himself hunched in a corner, reverting to his old habits as he furiously checks himself for any imperfections. What's he doing wrong? Is his voice truly annoying?
...And then you walk in on him.
How had he forgotten to lock the door? He feels like such a moron, but he can't let you see, or-
You're nothing but patient and apologetic. Even as he hisses at you to leave, threatens you, and tries to make you a contract, you're still patient.
You apologize, for once. He can't help but still get prickly with you, after all, you've just witnessed a humiliating moment of his that you caused. But he still does appreciate it.
You two do gradually get closer, softer, doing favors for one another. Feelings are budding. And yet, neither of you do anything.
Eventually, Jade and Floyd intervene, and just straight up set you two up. It's embarrassing for the both of you, but hey, at least you got together.
Azul's still docking their pay, of course.
Though the two of you get off to a rough start, you still manage to find your way together in the end.
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xileonaaaa · 2 days
Text
Thinking of a wealthy Nanami who is absolutely smitten for you
Nanami x reader au
*He isn’t some uptight goody two shoes.
⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ ㆍ┈ㆍㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ ㆍ┈ㆍㆍ┈₊⊹
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⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
!NanamiKento who met you through a mutual friend at a work gathering.
!NanamiKento who found himself entranced at the way you weren’t afraid to speak your mind at any given chance. Not to mention, just how much you seemed to shine in the midst of his drunk coworkers.
!NanamiKento who took to silently admiring your drunken mannerisms as the night progressed.
!NanamiKento who was quick to follow you when you went to the bathroom just to make sure thatyou’d be okay.
!NanamiKento who paitiently waited for you to reemerge from the ladies room, ignoring the groups of drunken women who tried their best to throw themselves at him.
!NanamiKento who ended up getting distracted trying to free himself from one of them who had somehow wrapped themself around his waist.
!NanamiKento who nearly panicked when he happened to look up, and see you getting cornered by a very drunk man.
!NanamiKento who nearly shoved the woman -who was literally grinding on him- off in one move as he made his way over to you to try and help you.
!NanamiKento who found himself frozen in his tracks when he saw you reel back and kick the man straight in the balls, before prying off your pretty heels and clunking the hunched over man on the head a few times.
!NanamiKento who didn’t realize his mouth was agape until he saw you hop over the guy who was groaning in pain on the floor, and grab his wrist, swiftly making a beeline for the exit before you could face any repercussions.
!NanamiKento who found himself actually going along with your very ridiculous act.
!NanamiKento who let you guide him outside, and felt a little cold when you let his wrist go.
!NanamiKento who was about to speak up and ask if you were okay, before his breath was stolen once more when he saw you converting your dress into a bodysuit.
!NanamiKento who quickly looked away to maintain some sort of decency, and only looked back when he heard you bid him a soft goodnight.
!NanamiKento who felt his heart actually stall for a second when you placed a finger to your lips and winked at him, saying “No witnesses.”
!NanamiKento who could only nod and try his best to swallow with his strangely dry throat.
!NanamiKento who went back in that restaurant feeling like he’d never felt before. For the first time, in a long time, he was actually holding back a smile.
!NanamiKento who wanted nothing more than to see you again, and maybe even get to know you.
!NanamiKento who thought about your very brief but strange interaction all week long.
!NanamiKento who actually ended up asking his mutual friend (in a very subtle way) how you were doing, and deep down, he wondered if he’d ever get to see you again.
!NanamiKento who learned that you might be getting let go from the company due to your overly smart mouth.
!NanamiKento who had to keep himself from outright laughing at the thought of your tiny self trying to go toe to toe with your boss.
!NanamiKento who went about his days trying his best to work up the confidence to ask you to dinner.
!NanamiKento who let a whole three weeks pass, before he finally approached you.
!NanamiKento who almost deviated from his usual laid back attire he usually wore out to first dates, simply because he genuinely wanted to impress you.
!NanamiKento who pulled up to your little apartment 30 minutes early, and was surprised when he saw you already waiting by your doorstep.
!NanamiKento who took notice on how you didn’t seem repulsed by his rustbucket of a car. (He’s the type to use the most mundane things for the first date. It’s an easy way to see if you actually want him, or want what you think he’s worth.)
!NanamiKento who sat across from you, listening as you talked about a little bit of everything. If you were just trying to patch up the awkward silence, or if you just loved to talk, he couldn’t tell. He loved it either way.
!NanamiKento who found himself genuinely interested in the things you had to say. Even going so far as to finish his food so that he could give you his full, undivided attention.
!NanamiKento who offered to cut your steak for you, but was taken aback when you politely declined, and dramatically stabbed your knife into the meat, cutting it with force, before popping it in your mouth, and grinning at him.
!NanamiKento who couldn’t help but smile back at you, genuinely feeling convinced that you had to be the most strangest woman he’d ever met. (In a good way of course.)
!NanamiKento who spent the most time in that restaurant just conversing with you, than he’d ever spent anywhere else besides his home.
!NanamiKento who felt a bit sad when he had to take you home, and was quick to ask for a second date before you could turn in for the night.
!NanamiKento who felt just a little let down when you told him that you’d think about it, but immediately perked up when you offered to stay in touch.
!NanamiKento who cursed himself all the way home for not trying just a little bit harder. Maybe he shouldn’t have went with his usual method.
!NanamiKento who made it a point to stop by your cubicle every morning just to say hi, and sometimes bring you coffee.
!NanamiKento who started to notice your very apparent eye bags, and the piles upon piles of work that began littering your desk.
!NanamiKento who felt like something wasn’t exactly right, and took it upon himself to do a little bit of digging through corporate files to see just who oversaw your work.
!NanamiKento who took his time gathering evidence to bring up to the big boss to prove you were being targeted by your own boss.
!NanamiKento who would pass by your cubicle to check on you, and take a chunk off of your enormous pile of paperwork for himself to do.
!NanamiKento who would often see you hurriedly rushing out of the office without your stuff, going who knows where.
!NanamiKento who caught you trying to take the bus one evening, but ended up missing it, and hurriedly stopped you, and asked you if you noticed that you’d left your stuff behind.
!NanamiKento who listened as you explained that you needed to get home to feed your two cats their dinner, and come back before the security guard locked up the office for the night.
!NanamiKento who offered to drive you to your apartment, and was beside himself when he heard your genuine thanks.
!NanamiKento who hesitated when he dropped you back at the office. Feeling a bit concerned at just how dark it was, he asked if you needed him to stay and help you, but his help was of course refused, and a part of him understood why. You were a very independent woman, and he respected that, so he let you go, but not before asking you to stay safe, and bidding you a goodnight.
!NanamiKento who found that through all of his research, he was too late in helping you keep your job.
!NanamiKento who happened to walk in early the next morning to a you tearing your boss a new one. You didn’t use a single swear word, and you didn’t even raise your voice. You gave it to him plain and simple, before storming back to your cubicle and collecting your things.
!NanamiKento who was beyond stunned, tried to stop you, and have you reconsider your decision, but the minute you looked up at him, he was able to see just how much your overtime was having an effect on you. Dark circles were under both of your eyes, you looked a little under the weather too.
!NanamiKento who let you walk out of that office, and made it a point to stop by your place to make sure you were okay.
!NanamiKento who was correct on his assumption that you were sick when you opened up your apartment door to let him in.
!NanamiKento who was glad he chose soup for his takeout option, and did his best to help you around your tiny apartment.
!NanamiKento who returned home that night thinking about something he would’ve never in a million years thought about, had it not been you.
!NanamiKento spent the next coming weeks visiting you, thinking about your predicament, and what he could do to possibly help you out. He knew well enough by now that you were the last person to ever except handouts, no matter how low you were.
!NanamiKento who considered asking you to be his girlfriend, and moving you and your two cats in with him.
!NanamiKento who thought about that possibility for days, weeks, hell a whole month went by, and he started to notice the bills piling up on your kitchen counter.
!NanamiKento who finally broke, and ended up asking you to be his on Valentine’s Day. He was so happy when you accepted, he even smiled!
!NanamiKento who immediately proposed that you move in with him, maybe until you got back on your feet. Hell, if you wanted, you could just stay and not bother getting another job. He didn’t want to ever see you with eye bags again. (You agreed to move in with him, but of course declined his offer of not getting another job.)
!NanamiKento who took note of your reaction when you saw his house for the first time.
!NanamiKento who yet again was surprised that your first thought was at how cold and barren his home seemed when he gave you a tour of it.
!NanamiKento who offered for you to decorate it for him. He didn’t particularly care for stuff like that, but if if made you happy, then he was all for it.
!NanamiKento who came home from work the next night to the smell of a delicious aroma filling his home.
!NanamiKento who was beside himself when he found out that you’d cooked dinner for him, and was waiting on him to get home so the two of you could eat together.
!NanamiKento who’s favorite part of the day was coming home to you, with dinner on the stove, and you diligently applying for more jobs on his sofa.
!NanamiKento who enjoys sitting down for dinner, and telling you about what’s been going on in the office.
!NanamiKento who is always eager to be the taste tester whenever you decide to try out a new dish.
!NanamiKento who doesn’t mind staying in the kitchen and helping you with the dishes after the both of you finish eating.
!NanamiKento who loves winding down, with you perched up on one side of the sofa doing some online shopping for things to decorate his house with, and him laying right next to you reading a new novel he’d checked out from the library. (He was not comprehending anything he was reading because he was too busy thanking his lucky stars that he got to meet someone as wonderful as you.)
!NanamiKento who usually waits for you to get up and start on another task because you can’t sleep, before he goes ahead and orders whatever it is that you have in your cart.
!NanamiKento who is more of a lover boy than you could have ever imagined. He would sometimes show up from work with a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers, claiming that he saw them on his way home, and they reminded him of your smile, so he stopped and got them for you.
!NanamiKento who lets himself relax around you, and lets you in on his more secret, vulnerable side.
!NanamiKento who laughs the most when he’s around you. You’re always making him chuckle, whether you mean to or not.
!NanamiKento who shows his appreciation for you by taking you out almost every weekend, and letting you pick out whatever it is you desire from the mall.
!NanamiKento who’s only reason to continue going to work is to be able to make you the happiest, and most comfortable woman alive.
!NanamiKento who loves you with every fiber of his being, and never knows what expect from you, and to be honest, he loves that the most about you.
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manicpixiefelix · 3 days
Text
head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}
Part 22.
Summary: After mostly resolving your issues regarding Oliver and Venetia, it's much easier to enjoy the time leading up to the dinner with the Henrys. Still, Oliver seems more than a little nervous to be around you and Felix, much to Felix's ongoing chagrin. He wonders how long it will take for Oliver to take the hint.
{ masterpost }
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.
A/N: 3044 words. oh yeah, its all coming together. :) i know the last few updates have been kind of spaced out, so i'd love to get some feedback from you lovely folks about how you think it's coming along now that we're in the back half.
TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
----
One day - probably one day soon - you'd have to tell Felix the truth about Oliver and Venetia. By that time, you reasoned, you'd have come up with a way to say it that would make him see why you hadn't called Oliver out for lying, and why you'd kept it from him. His gut reaction, like your own, was to immediately jump to the worst possible, malevolent conclusion. Based on past events, it was a sound conclusion to jump to. But Oliver's not Eddie. It was a moment of weakness, and Oliver really does love Felix. Somehow you'd find a way to make this painless, perhaps even a way to show how much Oliver cared, because that's what you'd seen, that's the why behind your own deception.
Except Felix wasn't even ready to admit out loud to himself, let alone you, or god forbid Oliver, that he genuinely felt that way about him. Even if he definitely, clearly did. But again, past heartbreak makes some of his trepidation far more excusable.
At least you have a distraction for the afternoon - not Oliver, no, he would never be so bold in direct sunlight as to do anything more than make out with you on the pool lounge. No, this distraction wasn't a particularly good one.
The NDA from your parents, sitting in your study.
Part of you knows you should probably have a lawyer look over this, but there was something about the idea of involving yet another person in your parents ongoing attempts to abandoned you that left a sour taste in your mouth. So that left you to look over it all on your own. The sticky-hot afternoon in the study wears thin on your nerves, but irritation was all that ever came of it, not upset or disappointment. Reconciling with Oliver probably had quite a bit to do with it.
Dinner is a welcome reprieve. When Oliver smiles at you across the table, there's a weight that's lifted from your shoulders are you smile back. Felix too is in notably high spirits, though he's decidedly not talking to Venetia; his parents don't seem to mind, however, as long as he's happier than when he'd started the day.
"Is there anything planned for after dinner?" Oliver asked, eyes wide and earnest as he looks around the table, all present sharing an equally confused look as if one of them may have planned something all the others had forgotten.
"Not as far as I'm aware," Sir James offers after a moment.
"Tomorrow will be quite the busy night," Elspeth elaborates with ease, "I'm sure we'd all like to conserve our energy."
"Last chance to cancel dinner with the Henrys," Felix says, already knowing it's not a real option, even after Elspeth chides him for the suggestion, that they'd already had all the food brought and extra help hired.
"Has the seating chart been organised yet?" You asked hopefully, to which Elspeth smiled when her gaze landed upon you, assuring you she'd finalised it that afternoon, turning only to remind Duncan to have it delivered to your study that evening.
"You'll be seated next to Henry of Suffolk, dear," she also tells you, and immediately you're filing that information away in the back of your mind. Henry of Suffolk, partner at Richmond & Suffolk Legal; his late wife was named Clarice, he had a daughter and son a few years younger than you... their names escaped you at that moment.
Beside you, Felix is shamelessly admiring you.
"What?" You ducked your head to try and hide your embarrassed grin.
"Just watching your mind work," he teased with a laugh which had you rolling your eyes with fond exasperation.
"So you can see the cogs too then?" Venetia giggles across the table, though Farleigh chimes in before Felix has the chance to give his sister a look.
"Surprised there's not steam coming out of their ears."
"I'm not a robot," you insisted, flustered by the attention and their combined teasing.
"Just your beautiful brain then," Oliver adds fondly, and out of sheer surprise you look up to meet his endeared gaze as he looks back at you. When had he been let in on that particular joke, you wondered? Something in the back of your mind is sure that it was Venetia, after all, she was the one who most often referred to your 'robot brain' as such, but you don't have it in you to be upset. You never do at these jokes, even though you may occasionally protest about them, they're always intended as a compliment.
And there's no way you could be mad with Oliver looking at you like that.
Dinner continues on with very little fuss after that, and you return to your study feeling much lighter than you had before. Felix joins you, complaining about how you'd spent all afternoon in here, and he couldn't bare to think of you spend all evening alone in here too. Of course he knows that Oliver will more than likely join you when it gets late enough, but he's brought a book, and has quietly claimed the sofa beneath the window for himself. These nights have never been uncommon, but this Summer has seemed especially busy at Saltburn, so you more than welcome his quiet company as the day's heat slowly burns away.
It's not long before there's someone approaching your door.
"It's Duncan," you say, mostly for Felix's benefit, before the butler himself knocks and you invite him in.
"The seating arrangements for tomorrow night's event, Captain," Duncan says graciously, giving you the faintest smile as he hands the document over and turns swiftly on his heel, practically evaporating into the darkness of the house silently.
"Still have no idea how you do that," Felix sounds rather impressed from where he's draped himself over the sofa.
"Do what?" You asked distractedly, examining the seating chart in the golden glow of the lamp.
"How you know exactly who's coming and going without even seeing them."
"Duncan was just being courteous for me," you mutter off-handily, "if I'd heard nothing before he'd knocked, I'd still know it was him."
"You know that's even more impressive, right?" Felix laughs, and finally you turn to him, only to see him watching you like he can't quite believe what you're saying. Sometimes you find yourself surprised by the Cattons, and how little they seem to understand or appreciate about the Estate on which they live.
"No, what's impressive is that I can tell what kind of mood your in half the time just by the sound of your footsteps," you tells him with a grin.
"Now you're lying," Felix snorts, shaking his head. But you continue.
"No, seriously Fi, it's not always entirely accurate, but it's pretty close; I'm not quite there with the rest of your family, but I think I know you well enough."
"That's like, stalker levels of dedication," but his smile is bright in the light of the moon, and his tone turns teasing, "do you have a thing for me or something?"
"I wouldn't go that far," you huffed a laugh, playing along with the bit.
"Shame," he sighed dramatically, "I was really hoping you did, 'cos I kind of have a thing for you."
"I wouldn't if I were you," finally standing, you sauntered over to him, smirking as he beamed up at you, thoroughly pleased by this silly little bit, "that sounds like a scandal waiting to happen."
"Call the tabloids then," Felix laughed softly as he welcomed you into his arms.
"Any stalker-like tendencies of yours I should be worried about?" You asked, settling against him, leaning into him.
"Yeah, I've got a bunch of your things in my room," Felix murmurs right before you kiss him, grinning as you do so. Things devolve from there to the two of you making out in the moonlight, giggling together, teasing nonsense passed back and forth as the moon rose higher in the sky.
"Ollie's at the door," you see fit to finally tell Felix, who looks down at you with wide, surprised eyes. Sheepishly you admit, "he's been there for like five minutes." It's getting terribly late, but you really don't want to go bed right now, or go anywhere that isn't here, in this moment. Felix snorts a laugh, face scrunching up with something close to embarrassment; he knows letting Oliver get away with this kind of thing is part of the game you're all playing, but it still catches him off guard with just how aware you were of the whole situation.
"Ollie," Felix called out, and you both heard a him start behind the study door, "Christ, mate, don't linger," he insists, righting both him and yourself to something more respectable on the sofa, but still insisting on holding you close, "come in already." You're practically in his lap.
Like a deer in the headlights, looking absolutely mortified at being caught out, Oliver pushes the door open and faintly apologises, telling you both he didn't want to interrupt.
"Interrupt what?" Felix says far too easily, smile wide and a bit coy, "nothing to interrupt," though you can hear it for what it is; nothing you, Oliver, could ever interrupt if you simply asked to join. How long would it take Oliver to realise this, you wondered; Felix is getting less subtle by the day.
"I was going to ask -" Oliver pauses, focus stolen by the way Felix presses a kiss to your shoulder, before his gaze returns to your face, your expectant smile. Felix knows exactly what he's doing, "um, was going to ask about the seats for the dinner tomorrow?" Oliver manages, "I don't... know the Henrys?"
As you stand, Felix lets out a loud, disappointed sigh, but lets you go, returning to his book. Every movement, every sound Felix makes captivates Oliver in this moment, and both you and Felix are more than aware of this. Still, you swan over to your desk, looking over the seating chart before you usher Oliver over.
"They've got you next to Ven and Lady Daphne," you show him, pointing out his place along the table, "she's Henry's wife," you add wryly, and hear Felix bark a laugh behind you. Oliver, for a moment, seems confused, gaze flicking between you both.
"Aren't all the -?"
"That's the joke, Ollie," you tell him, but he still seems too nervous to properly see the humour in it, just making a faint noise of understanding in the back of his throat. "Did you want to hang out for a bit?" You offered, "this contract's doing my head in," you flicked at the thick contract on your desk dismissively, "so I'm probably going to get stuck into something lighter, but you know we always love your company."
"Thanks, but, uh," Oliver hesitated, looking to Felix again, "I think I'm gonna turn in for the night."
"Okay," you say sunnily, leaning over to give him a quick peck on the lips, which seems to startle him, "hope you sleep well, Ollie."
"Yeah," Oliver still seems to be reeling from the brief show of affection, "you too."
"Good night, mate," Felix offers with a cheery wave.
"You going to kiss me good night too?" Oliver sounds almost dazed, and suddenly looks mortified once more, like he can't quite believe he'd said that. Felix, unphased, stands and makes his way over to you both.
"Sure," he seems to take the suggestion in stride, kissing the top of Oliver's head before he bends to quickly kiss him on the lips. For a moment after Felix has pulled back, Oliver's look at him like he's staring at the sun, and Felix is wearing a sharp, knowing smile, "'night, Ollie," he says, quieter this time.
"G'night, Felix," Oliver murmurs, making his way to the door as Felix nonchalantly reaches to take the seating chart from your hand to look it over for himself. You, however, watch Oliver go, feeling both helpless and amused all at once.
"You think if I fuck him he'll take the hint?" Felix asks quietly once the door was shut, and you'd both heard Oliver's door squeak closed for the night.
"Do you think if you fuck him you'll take the hint," you asked disbelievingly, "that man is so into you, Fi," you hissed, almost furiously wide-eyed as you looked up at him. As always, Felix responds dismissively.
"Told you I'm not saying anything until he does," Felix puts the document down, choosing instead to drape his arms over your shoulders, "we can fuck around all Summer for all I care, but you know I'm not going to hold my breath for things to get more serious unless he tells me."
"He just asked you to kiss him, Felix!"
"I wasn't in love with you when we first kissed."
"Bad example; yes you were."
"Okay, bad example, yes I was," Felix admits with a faint flush, "but for the record, I didn't think I was at the time; we were twelve," he regains his composure quickly, "but it's not like you're in love with Farleigh or my sister; yeah, I know you love them, but you're not in love with them."
"That's different, Fi, we've been fucking around since forever," you sighed, resting your head against him for a moment.
"It's not different," Felix insists, "I just-" but he paused, and when you chance a look up at him, his face is scrunched up, like he's on the verge of admitting something he really doesn't want to, "I don't want to be getting my hopes up if it's just fucking around with Ollie, you know?" It comes out far more frustrated than you'd anticipated, and though you pat his back comfortingly, you can't help but add -
"He drank your bathwater."
"He fucking watched me get myself off and didn't even do anything about it until after it happened! And not even with me!" Felix points out, sounding almost like a petulant child, "I left the fucking door open and everything!" He's pouting now, actually pouting.
"He probably thinks that if he's too forward he'll scare you off, or your parents will kick him out or something," you tried to reason with him, to which Felix groaned.
"But they won't! You saw how much they loved Eddie, fucking hell," he huffed, stepping back, now wearing a scowl. Where had this night turned to something unfortunate? "Mum would throw a fucking parade if I got a boyfriend who wasn't a cheating dickhead."
"You should tell Oliver that," you pointed out frankly, "or at the very least tell him the truth about things with Eddie, so he knows that you do more than just fuck around with pretty boys."
Everything suddenly goes very still.
"What?" There's no frown, no anger anywhere on Felix's face, just pure surprise, "do you think he thinks that?" You watch Felix re-evaluate the entire situation, giving him space to sort out his feelings, "I made it clear I'm into guys too- do you think he thinks -"
"I think," slowly, carefully, you step up to Felix, voice firm but kind, "that despite how much he's seen you fuck around with other people on campus, the only person you are actually in love with is me," Felix is quiet, looking down at you with this crestfallen look like he's disappointed in himself, "and he, like most people I'll remind you, probably assumes that if he wants you to look at him like you look at me, it'll be a competition."
"Of course it's not, that's so stupid," Felix muttered reflexively.
"I've tried to tell Ollie that," you sighed, wrapping an arm around him. Felix presses his face into your hair for a very long moment.
"What if he doesn't, though?" Comes through muffled and forlorn. You're not quite sure what he means, and thankfully Felix continues, not that he moves his face at all, "what if it is just fucking around and we've misread all of this; I can't tell him I actually love him too, I'd look like an absolute freak."
"Tell him about Eddie," you advised softly, "at least he'll get the hint that you're capable of falling in love with someone who isn't me." The reminder of Eddie would always probably ache, you're starting to come to realise. For now, however, you ignore it.
Felix hugs you tightly, and mumbles that you're probably right. Something eases in your chest at that.
Curled up together in bed not ten minutes later, neither your pyjamas or duvet are as comfortable or warm as Felix's arm around you. He's still deep in thought about the night that had just passed; when he muses that at least it was a better talk than the night before, he sounds like he's still making his mind up about that. Settling into sleep, however, you're contented knowing it was true.
The following morning feels comparatively serene, chattering away to the rest of the family about the night's coming festivities. Both you and Felix drop a quick kiss to the top of Oliver's head in passing on your way to collect breakfast - Farleigh's the only one who notices, and he rolls his eyes at you both. Venetia asks you what you'll be wearing to the event and lights up when you tell her it's the jumpsuit she'd bought you from Yves Saint Laurent for your last birthday, while Elspeth coos that you'll look just darling in it.
After yesterday morning's tenseness, getting to work in your garden, planting the flowers that had arrived for you, music playing cheerily through your little speaker, it feels like a dream. The sun is warm against your back, and for some weird reason you think you see Oliver skulking around in one of the gardens by the wall of the house. Lurking again. Probably habit more than anything else, you figured. Considering the games you've been playing with him, you don't see the need to discourage that kind of behaviour. He's by the window of one of the little libraries; you wonder what must be going on in there to have caught his attention.
Oh well, you'll ask later if you remember.
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nunalastor · 3 days
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Hi! next part of Snow White + Tangled AU (still taking suggestions for a name, I'll probably end up writing a whole fic)
Alastor was losing his patience.
He never really cared about the "King of Hell", but ever since the little man arrived at the doors of Charlie's hotel, it's just been one disappointment after another.
And, of course, he trusts Roo not to give him valuable information! It's always the same with her, she will only give you enough information to work with, only to punish you if she doesn't like the results, or take credit if you somehow end up doing exactly what she wanted.
At least Charlie wasn't a relevant project for her. But it really would have been useful to know her origins, he could have gotten a lot out of that information. Anyway, it's not that that's important now, he's not going to be bitter about it. After all, so far the results of his decision have been satisfactory.
Honestly, there was a time when he thought Roo could be Charlie's mother, but he ruled it out as time went by. It's a relief, motherhood isn't for everyone, and Roo definitely shouldn't be on that list...just like Queen Lilith apparently.
The first time he saw the king was interesting, he tried to attack him as soon as he saw him after a brief conversation with Charlie. It was so fun to see his daughter putting the little man in his place. But then she explained who she had just kicked out of the hotel and it was just disappointment after disappointment.
In their second meeting, the king was no longer going directly to try to kill him, but that did not make him any less calm. He just kept accusing him of Charlie's kidnapping, which is fair, the king doesn't have to believe him and he doesn't have to justify himself.
He suggested to Charlie that, when the king returned with the supposed evidence he had gone to look for, it should be just her and the king. Charlie was just worried that this situation would change something between them, but he dismissed it, nothing has to change.
From that moment on, Alastor's patience has been tested. The king turned out to be like all the rich men of his time, buying people with trinkets, trying to dazzle everyone with their wealth and power, pampering their legitimate children and only throwing a few coins to their bastards if they remembered that they had.
Alastor has kept his distance. Not only does he want to respect Charlie's limits and her possible relationship with her biological father, he also wants to show her that, unlike the king, he can behave like an adult in this situation. On the other hand, the king, every time he sees him, has to make a conscious effort not to attack him either physically or verbally, and that makes Charlie nervous, which amuses Alastor a little, but mostly makes him uncomfortable. He knows that this whole situation makes Charlie tense, and the little king is not helping with his childish attitude (according to his height, honestly).
What ended his calm was seeing how the little king simply seemed to lose his patience just a couple of months later, dismissing Charlie's ideas and trying to take her away. Simply telling her that her whole idea of a charity hotel would be counterproductive because sinners would only take advantage of her, and anyway, it's not like sinners deserve better, they do horrible things after all, like kidnapping innocent babies and taking them away from them families.
And Alastor simply had enough. He doesn't really care what the king thinks of him, he doesn't want to meet him, and the feeling really is mutual at this point, but after all that talk, saying how much he missed his daughter, he hoped the king would take the time to meet to Charlie instead of just pretending like nothing had happened. As if Charlie had not spent almost 100 years, all of her life, living with sinners, as if she had not spent her entire life learning from him and from those who have surrounded her until now.
The king is not entirely wrong, many of those in hell deserve to be there, it is supposed to be punishment for their decisions, in fact, there are those who deserve worse, but he cannot just so easily dismiss the ideals that Charlie formed by seeing sinners up close.
And, of course, he is not a good person, he has never pretended otherwise. In fact, if he had found any other sinner the day he found Charlie, he would have put them in an oven with the same ease that he put Charlie in her crib every night. If he had found any other sinners, he would have boiled them in a saucepan with the same ease with which he put Charlie in the bathtub when she needed a bath. With any other sinner, he would have written a recipe book as easily as he wrote children's stories he remembered so he would have something suitable to read to Charlie. But the truth is that it was not just any other sinner, it was Charlie, a baby that he decided to take care of with the memories of his mother always in mind. The one he found in a basket was a baby, whom he accompanied, stayed by her side, held her when she screamed and cried because of a nightmare or a minor injury. Whom he educated and guided, who he encouraged to make her own decisions, who he taught how to be respected. Who he took to his friend Rosie to make sure she always had a safe place to go. Whom he watched from afar when she played with other children in the Cannibal Town square. Whom he saw grow up while being just as feared and respected as him by her own means. Who tried to defend him when someone who was his friend for 30 years betrayed him and tried to attack her, which immediately ended their friendship.
It is when he feels the presence of his daughter, hugging him from behind, that he realizes that he said all that out loud. It is when he realizes that the king is there, looking at him with a look that reveals confusion, surprise and horror. The king has not moved from his place next to the portal he opened when he tried to take Charlie, but he notices that he is shaking, while he seems to think of something to say.
Alastor sighs, regains his composure as he walks away from Charlie and approaches the king, and with a snap of his fingers he makes two thick books appear. They are copies of a photo album and a scrapbook. He also makes the basket in which Charlie came into his life appear, with the blanket and clothes included. He gives everything to the king and is firm when he tells him to take the time to get to know Charlie, to stop being a king (if he ever was one), to stop being a wallet and start being a father if it's what he really wants.
The king leaves without saying a word, with all the items held firmly in his arms. If among the pages of the books the king finds the note that told Alastor to take care of the baby, with a characteristic signature, well...no one can refute that Alastor could have simply forgotten that it was there.
Two weeks pass, and Alastor feels a chill down his spine, a chill that is supposed to be a caress, supposed to be a reward for a job well done. He's confused, but at least it didn't backfire on him.
A month passes for the king to appear again. He literally just appeared in Alastor's room, looking haggard, exhausted. Alastor supposes that he can let the impertinence slide just for the pleasure that such a pitiful image brings him.
"Can you tell me about my d...can you tell me about Charlie? Please?"
👀
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lixielovess · 2 days
Text
"and i still dont care, i only care about you and how you feel. if it meant that I'd have to kill everyone in the world except for you and then myself just to prove that i love you, then I'll do so."
hyunjin x fem!chubby!reader
warnings: reader is insecure about her body, implied ED, swearing
genre: angst, fluff
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hyunjin was a childhood friend of yours, you always hung out with him and you enjoyed being around him. but you were always considered the 'ugly' friend by your other friends, sometimes your family and you yourself agreed sometimes.. ofcourse he never did, he thought you were absolutely beautiful, tough he never said it.
when you were in junior high school, you could never be friends with anyone without someone shipping you two, but with you.. everyone always considered it as a joke. like you were a joke, people kept teasing hyunjin about liking you and he always denied it, and you believed him. he was never harsh about it he was genuinely nice, he was always polite with it but it always seemed to hurt you. you loved him, and deep down he knew he liked you aswell.
he was the handsome popular guy and you were just another one of his fangirls who just happened to be one of his friends. though you did have girl friends alot of girls seemed to hate you because you were friends with hyunjin, saying that you only hung out with him to distract yourself from how fugly you actually are. and honestly you thought the same, it was to the point you starved yourself and had to go to the hospital because you didn't eat the normal amount of food a healthy person should eat for about a month, but despite not eating almost anything at all you still looked like that.
and suddenly when you were in highschool in senior year when in the schools garden, he stood infront of you, bouquet in hand looking straight into your eyes "y/n y/l/n i-... i loved you.. i always have.. so please-" you cut him off. "is this some sort of joke..?" he froze up, confused, time seemed to stop as he just stared at you completely confused "what?"
"did one of your friends force you to do this? did you lose a bet? do you think its funny 'confessing' to the ugly chubby girl?" you we're used to it, guys confessing to you, going out with you because it was a dare or a jokey joke. but its happened to you over and over again for too many times to the point where you couldn't tell the difference between that and the real thing... and when someone actually had feelings, that someone being hyunjin, you turned him down because you didn't trust anyone that said they liked you, either way if it was true or not.
"Y/n-" "save it." angry tears welled up in your eyes as he just stared at you in disbelief "listen! please- im not joking! i genuinely do-" you grit your teeth, holding in your tears as you try not to break down sobbing "i thought you were my friend, hyunjin."
"i am! and i want us to be more than that-"
"Liar! you don't like me, i know you don't. you denied it since we were 10 and even until now you still do. feelings don't change overnight. i cant believe i thought you were my friend, never talk to me again you piece of shit" you ran off into somewhere, you dont know where you just walked. a few hours later you somehow arrived home, you waltzed into your room and just locked yourself in there.
days go by and you return to school completely ignoring him, everytime he came to talk to you, you just brushed him off like he was nothing.
your friends still hung out with him, and they brought you along when they hung out with him, but what else could you do? not hang out with your friends who've known you for years..? no. eventually you forgave him and tolerated him, and started hanging out with eachother more and more.
it wasn't until recently when you guys were alone, he took your hand and looked straight into your eyes when he confessed, again. "i.. i just wanted you to know that it wasnt a joke, i genuinely did love you back then and i didn't care about how you looked you were absolutely beautiful regardless. and i still dont care, i only care about you and how you feel. if it meant that I'd have to kill everyone in the world except for you and then myself just to prove that i love you, then I'll do so."
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artificialbreezy · 3 days
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Can you imagine not being touched by a man for a long time, then being on tour with the band and somehow falling in bed with Matt, being si reactive to his touch, not lastong for long? He would be so cocky about that😮‍💨
i got a lil carried away with this one so sorry🤷🏻‍♀️
CW: rambling really, poorly written ending
ya know, i feel like Matt is super cocky anyways. so like maybe when Noah brings you to a get together before tour so you can meet everyone, Matt’s instantly smitten and he’s telling anyone who listens that he will have you by the end of the tour. word does get back to you and you’re like no. absolutely not. so you kinda end up avoiding him because yeah you may think he’s gorgeous and yeah sometimes you think about him when youre alone in your bunk and yeah maybe you do wanna know if he’s all talk but he will never know that, you don’t want him to think you’re easy. he’s gotta work for it if he REALLY wants you. you’re not about the fuck buddy life.
maybe it starts to build up after a show one night, you guys have the next day off so why not stay up and drink and hang out. what you absolutely don’t expect is some of the questions to be so personal. it was never in the plan to share how you haven’t had a good lay in months. and you sure as hell didn’t expect to be in Matt’s bed by the end of the night with him “showing you what a good lay really is”. Matt catches everything, he notices the little things. so he notices the way your breath hitches when his hand runs up your thigh and the way your body erupts with goosebumps when his mouth is on your neck. but his favorite? is the way you whine when he’s teasing you.
it starts with a soft whine when he runs his finger between your folds. it turns into a needy whine when he teases your entrance, not enough that he’s inside but just enough you feel him. remember when i said he’s cocky? he’d smirk at you and just say “baby you gotta be patient, gotta get you stretched out first. don’t think you can handle my cock yet.” he really just wants you needy, whining for him to do something. he needs you to crave him, he wants you to think about him a month from now and how good he made you feel.
but oh my god, when he finally does push his cock into you? he thinks he could blow just from the sound you made. he’s gonna start slow, wants to give you a little at a time. just to adjust. what he didn’t expect was for your eyes to be filling with tears and you to say, “please Matt, just wanna feel you. don’t care if it hurts. want it to hurt please just please.” it’d take everything in him not to explode right then and there but i think hed start to pull himself out just to hear you whine again. he’d chuckle and then thrust back in.
the next day when you walk into the common area where the rest of the crew and band are, everyone immediately notices your limp and Matt’s smirk when he watches you move. no one says anything at first, until Bryan speaks up, “i’m so glad you two had fun but now i need to cut my ears off.”
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fo4 or nv companions + sole/courier faking an orgasm with them?
FNV Companions Reactions to the Courier Faking an Orgasm
➼ Word Count » 0.6k ➼ Warnings » MDNI ➼ Genre » NSFW, Romantic
Boone will notice immediately that you’ve faked it. He won’t say anything but you’ll know something’s wrong by the way he suddenly freezes up. His eyes will hold a hint of worry in them as he gazes at you, silently asking if you’re ok. He feels awful and will slowly get off of you before gently helping you to bed. He doesn't voice his thoughts, but it's obvious that he's not sure what to ask or do in this situation. He'll silently be praying that he didn't cross any boundaries with you. Boone will remain quiet until you decide to speak up and say something, otherwise, you're both just going to be lying next to one another awkwardly.
Arcade looks at you in disbelief. There’s no way you thought that’d work. He can literally see if cum is spraying out your dick or not. Obviously, he’s going to catch you in your bluff. He’ll be more embarrassed than anything. The fact that you felt you needed to fake your orgasm stings him. He knew it’d been a while since he’d last done it with another man, but he didn’t think he was that rusty. It’s definitely gonna leave a dent in his ego. He'll help you get dressed then never speak to you again, not because he's mad at you, but because he's too ashamed to face you himself. If you want to talk to him again, you're going to have to initiate it.
Raul pushes himself off of you immediately and will look down at you in concern. He’ll ask softly if you’re alright, but won’t pry any further than that. You obviously didn’t like it if you had to fake it, and he doesn’t blame you. Not many people like the feeling of a ghoul and that’s perfectly fine with him. He’s just worried that you’ll feel too awkward to be around him any longer and switch him out for another companion. He'll greet you in the morning as he would any other time, hoping to just move past this little blunder in your relationship. He got the message clearly and won't try to prompt anything more from you, too afraid that he'll make you uncomfortable again.
Cass stops what she’s doing and will confront you about it immediately. She’s slept with WAY too many people to be fooled by you pretending to cum and she’s baffled that she somehow couldn’t get you off. You don't have any other choice but to go get a drink with her because she wants to know exactly what it is she needs to work on. She's more offended than anything. This hasn't ever happened to her before and she never in her life thought that it ever would. Just explain it to her quickly and she'll leave you alone.
It takes a minute before Veronica notices, but when she does she’ll begin apologizing profusely. She knows she can get a little excited when it comes to sex, but she never imagined that it might be too much for her partner. She's so scared that she's overwhelmed you and will immediately begin offering to do aftercare for you - whatever you want - because she feels so bad about the entire incident. If you never want to talk to her again, she'd completely understand, but she also wouldn't find it all that awkward if you decided to keep traveling with her. She can fix this, and she will fix it if you'd give her the chance and tell her what it was that went wrong.
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