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#at least for a while I felt known today
nymphomatique · 7 months
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wanna sit on nerd miguel’s face while i use my phone to snap other guys that’s my little chair fr😔😻
this just changed the trajectory of my life in a way you cannot understand.
cw: slight d/s dynamics, sending nudes, munch miguel makes an appearance once more, bro literally FEASTS, new character yippee (v minor), brief choking (more like a neck squeeze tbh), praise, squirting LOL, miguel gets kicked out again 😔 reader catching feelings?? we may never know. semi proofread today i felt nice. this is a longer one than usual, so enjoy!
“stop fuckin’ squirming down there and eat me out properly,” you say, looking down at miguel. his eyes are hazy and hooded, his glasses somewhere on the bed, his brown eyes clear as day. you grip his head by his hair and position him to where his nose brushes above your clit, and you moan at the feeling. “l-like that, okay miguel? be good for mommy.”
miguel takes heed of your instructions and begins to lick, suck, and thrust up into your wetness, making it hard for you to maintain something relative to your composure. in the throes of miguel’s mouth work, your phone screen, next to miguel’s head, lights up with a snapchat notification from none other than the star quarterback of your school, peter parker. you bite the corner of your lip, mouth pulling up in a smile at an idea. you grab your phone and open it to snapchat, seeing peters name at the top of your snap list. you open his snap and it’s a picture of him shirtless, abs on display, his happy trail just peeking over the band of his pants. his snap is captioned with text reading ‘wyd?’
you prop your camera up, angling it enough that miguel’s face and your pussy are out of frame. miguel stops for a moment to ask what you’re doing, but before he can get a word in you speak up, “if you stop, this will be the last time i ever let you touch me. got it? keep fucking going.” and wordless, miguel does as he’s told, going back to eating you but with a new energy this time. it catches you off guard a bit, and you let out a light f-fuck in response, but you don’t let it derail you from answering peter back.
peter. you and him have had.. complicated history to say the least. since high school, the two of you ran in the same social circles, with him being on your high school football team and you, a cheerleader. a true status quo. the two of you had ended up attending the same underaged parties, hooking up and even going steady for some time, until the blonde busty thing known as gwen stacy walked into your high school in sophomore year and made her claim on your then boyfriend. you figured it out after you walked in on them under the bleachers post-game, the spot where you habitually got on your knees to congratulate peter for his win. you stayed with him after a profuse apology and intense “i’m sorry” fuck session, to your dismay, but broke up with him in the beginning of your senior year. now, you two fuck from time to time, scratching an itch when you have it.
you look back at the tease of a photo on your phone, your tits spilling out your plunge neck crop top and your abdomen cutting off right above your pubic area, your pink thong still visible coming up the sides of your hips. you feel miguel plunge his tongue into you, causing you to fall forward, steadying yourself with one hand, phone in the other. “keep this up and i’m gonna squirt on you, but i bet you’re into that huh?” you laugh out a little, miguel moaning into you in response. you try not to get distracted and caption your snap to peter ‘nothing really’ and press send.
immediately, you see that he opens it and he replies just as fast, this time the photo of him in grey sweats with a visible tent, layer out on his bed. the caption attached, ‘wanna turn your nothing to a something? ;)’ and you roll your eyes. you move to answer him with another midriff picture, but you change your mind. “hey, look at me dweeb,” you say, turning the camera so that it’s capturing the angle of miguel’s mouth on your pussy, covered in spit and your juices. he looks up and sees the camera of your phone pointed down towards him and he goes red in the face and tight lipped. “remember what i told you about stopping,” you remind him, and he maintains eye contact with the camera as he goes back to lick a strip up your pussy, from your leaking hole to your clit. you move your unoccupied hand to his face, palm to his cheek as you slowly caress him with your thumb. “that’s a good boy.”
you move your hand from his cheek, trailing softly down to his strong neck and you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. at the pressure he lets out a groan, his hands moving to grip your thighs tighter to his face. “fuck miguel, you’re making mommy so happy right now- ah! fuck, just like that. keep doing that, o-okay?” you moan out. he says nothing, his eyes, still maintaining contact with the camera, clouded with lust, answering for him.
you snap a picture, turned on at the lewdness of it. it’s your pussy on miguel’s face, pink panties pushed to the side as his mouth is sucking on your clit, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs, and your hand around his neck at the same time. you make quick work to save the photo and caption it ‘busy, sorry’, feeling your orgasm approach. you press send and drop your phone, ignoring the back to back buzzing, probably of peters reply to your salacious snap.
a steady heat begins to boil in the pit of your stomach, and you keen forwards, your hand leaving miguel’s neck to grip the white sheets on your bed. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ and with that, you feel the pleasure within you tighten then burst, like a damn breaking way, and you begin to tremble as miguel continues his work down on you. the overstimulation begins to hit you, and you feel a spurt of liquid leave your body and miguel groan and suck. “oh my god,” you heave out, “st-stop, no more.”
miguel places a final kiss to your mound as he moves to lift your limp hips for you. he feels sheepish how, his sweater and mouth drenched with your liquids. he wipes his lips and makes way to speak to your still firm on the bed. “are- are you okay?”
you say nothing, grab the nearest pillow you have, and throw it at him. miguel dodges and understands that means get the fuck out.
after collecting yourself, your body still spent and sheets still wet, you roll over on your back and grab your phone to look at what peter replied to you. you open his snap, and laugh a little at his responses.
peter 🚮
| is that fucking o’hara..?
| you’re fucking with me???
| fucking whore
| you sleep with nerds now??
you make way to reply to peter one more time, opening the camera and taking a picture of the wet bedsheets, caption it ‘nerds that can make me cum? yeah’ and unadd him after.
you finally haul yourself up to change your sheets when you see miguel’s glasses on your bed. you grab them and put them on your nightstand, feeling heat rush through your blood to your face, thinking of him and the mess he made of you.
fucking dweeb.
7K notes · View notes
dollfacefantasy · 3 months
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Special Day
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pairing: mafia!leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: this year your husband wants to give you a special present for your birthday
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), fingering, daddy kink, breeding kink
word count: 5.2k
a/n: birthday fic for someone i am so happy to know and call my friend, @explorevenus. i love her so so much, she's one of the most fun and kindest people i have ever known. she's so totally cool and you all should wish her a very happy birthday.
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For my pretty little doll on her special day. I’ll see you tonight. I love you.
That’s the message scrawled onto the scrap of paper that’s attached to the hanger on the closet door. On the hanger, dangled one of the prettiest dresses you’d ever seen in your life. Your favorite color, flowy and shimmering. Of the hundreds of things he’d asked you to wear over the course of your relationship, this had to be in the top three.
It almost made up for the fact that he was going to be on the job for nearly the entire day. You weren’t even confident he’d make it home in time for the dinner reservations you had, but if you had to be alone, at least you would look good doing it.
If anything, you tried not to let his absence bother you too much because it could be worse. You make a point to yourself to remember that today wasn’t like years ago when you would’ve spent the whole day at work just to come home to an empty house. So far you've spent it out, getting your nails done, lunch at one of your favorite places, some light shopping. And it was all on his dime. This was the one day a year where he truly gave you no limits, no allowance, no teasing about your debit card being worn out. Your birthday always was about letting you indulge in anything you wanted as much as your heart desired. You reminded yourself of that when you felt the familiar pain of longing tighten up your chest.
It wasn’t like the feeling was a foreign one. He’d been at work on every birthday you’d had since the two of you got together. He’d treat you to the shopping spree combined with sending you a lavish arrangement of flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals, or whatever you had been wanting that year. Then he’d come to you the next day, or once you started living together, in the middle of the night. Always climbing into bed or coming up behind you with a hushed “‘m sorry, babydoll” and some gentle kisses to your head. And you’d never complain because the next day before you even had a chance to get annoyed, an expensive new bracelet would be on your wrist, and he’d deliver his apologies between your legs with his tongue, fingers, or cock. Your choice.
For the week leading up to your birthday this year, you had just been silently hoping it would be different. Considering he had been spending more time with you lately, and less time in sketchy meetings, it didn’t seem unreasonable. The higher he climbed in the dark world that he worked in, the closer you came to living the glamorous life he’d promised you from the beginning. His higher position scored the two of you the penthouse you currently sat in. It got you vacations to exotic places and clothes you previously only would’ve been able to afford in your wildest fantasies.
The sun had just begun to set, casting a warm orange-pink haze over your room. You figured you should put on the outfit he’d chosen for you. Lifting the dress up, you realize there’s something else attached to the hanger. Obscured from view at first glance is a delicate lingerie set, lacy pink bra and panties with rosebuds embroidered across them in rows. A smile rises on your lips as you slip off the clothing you had on and unclip the dainty articles from the hanger. Your fingertips smooth over the lace while visions of Leon’s hands dancing across your chest, squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples, flash through your mind.
You slide the thin straps onto your arms and reach behind to clasp it into place. Then you pull the panties up, looking in the mirror at how they fit over your hips. The dress comes after these. You put it on and are left blown away by his choice for you. It looked good. Showed you off, highlighted your assets in the most flattering way.
As you admire your reflection, the main doors to the apartment open and close. Keys rattle as they’re dropped on the side table. He enters the bedroom and you hear a hum of adoration rumble from his chest.
“There’s the birthday girl,” he says softly as he makes his way to you.
Your eyes capture his gaze with a fond glance. He’d actually made it back when he said he would. Maybe things were looking up. You turn your back to him, revealing the parted fabric that left your back and the hem of your panties exposed.
“Zip me up?” you request.
Without a word, he pulls you close by your waist. You knew he loved doing this. Picking what you wore and watching your body slip into it, filling out his fantasies. His fingers tug the zipper upward and secure the dress together. He presses a tender kiss to your neck and inhales a deep breath of his favorite scent in the whole world, your perfume. His arms wrap around you as his palms rub down your body, over your belly and to your hips. He leaves a few more smooches on your throat as he directs your stare back to the mirror.
“That dress looks gorgeous on you. My perfect little doll,” he murmurs.
“Thank you,” you respond, catching his eyes in the reflective glass ahead of you. You scan the picture in front of you. His large frame engulfing yours, damn near lovesick expression on his face, hands and arms as possessive as they could be in such a basic stance.
“No, thank you,” he says, “You been having a nice day? Being a good girl? Staying safe?”
You sink back against his chest more as his low voice seeps out against your skin. “Mhm,” you answer with a slight nod.
“Yeah? You ready to have some more fun tonight?” he whispers, lips brushing your earlobe.
You nod, sweet and docile. God, it was like you melted in his presence. Could never hold onto anything with him around. It all went out the window in order to get his praise and feel the warmth of his affection on you.
“That’s my baby,” he coos with one more wet kiss on your cheek. He backs up as if he’s about to let you go, but as you turn around, he grabs your jaw. The pads of his fingertips gently dig into the flesh of your cheeks. In that loving and condescending tone that sent heat rushing through your body, he asks, “Who’s my pretty girl?”
It was such a simple thing. You didn’t know why it worked, but it always did. A big smile spreads across your face, and your eyes flit away with timid modesty.
“Me,” you confirm, tone soft but sure.
“That’s right,” he says simply and pulls you into an actual kiss.
After that, you’re almost giddy, high off the small gesture. It made your blood run hot and your head swim with a dizzy feeling of love. You all but prance to the rack against the wall that holds your shoes. Slipping on some matching heels, you face him once more and do a little motion to show off the completed look.
He chuckles at your twirl and opens his arms. You immediately go to him and find your place in his grasp. Kissing the top of your head, he mutters “What’d I do to get the sweetest girl in the world all to myself, hm?”
You shrug, and that’s all he needs before the two of you are ready to go. He stuffs his wallet in his pocket and walks towards the elevator with you tucked to his side. His fingers coast down your jaw and stroke your hair. Your eyes stay locked on him from the doors shutting to the little ding letting you know the trip is over.
The two of you float outside to the luxury car Leon rode around in now. Not even drove because he had been given a driver recently. All the two of you had to do was simply slip into the backseat.
He holds you close, nearly on his lap for the duration of the ride. One hand massages the back of your neck, keeping your head against his shoulder. The other delves beneath the skirt of your dress only to knead your plush thighs and feel your skin between his fingers. All the attention keeps your head spinning and your body craving his love.
It’s only around twenty minutes before the car pulls to a stop in front of the restaurant. You’re greeted by the familiar twinkling lights and neon letters of one of your favorite places. You beam at him and take his hand. He watches your pleasant reaction, so pleased he could make you happy with something so simple.
Getting in is quick and painless since he had called ahead of time, dead set on making this as special for you as possible. You’re seated at a booth in the back. It’s not completely private, but well secluded from the other patrons filling seats.
He slides in first, grinning as he pats the cushioning next to him. You follow, and immediately, he pulls you close. Your thighs are squished against each other beneath the table. His lips are caressing your neck as you skim the menu causing you to squirm and laugh softly.
“You get anything you want, pretty baby. Tonight’s all about my precious girl,” he whispers.
You nod and nuzzle into the affection a bit, brushing your nose with his. After deciding what you want, he orders your meal and drink. The two of you talk, and from this alone, it seems to be shaping up into the perfect night. You talk about everything and anything, catching up with him like you hadn’t in a while. You see the Leon you love, your Leon. The guy who comes home late with dark eyes and a flat voice is nowhere to be found, and you couldn’t be more pleased. He stays close the entire time, seemingly not able to help how touchy he was with you.
Eventually, your orders arrive, and things continue to look up. Your smile won’t leave your face as you eat and drink. Laughs fly between the two of you like neither of you had ever seen something bad in your lives. It’s only hours later, towards the end of dinner when you can see him simmering down a bit. His expression grows more serious. Different from usual though. It’s not stern. It’s more… vulnerable. He pulls you flush against him yet again and squeezes his arms around you softly.
“I’m happy you’re having a good time, sweetheart. You know I love seeing that pretty smile. And you should know, I’ve wanted your birthday to turn out this perfect every year. But now I can actually provide that,” he says, continuing to grow more genuine.
You nod, not totally sure where he’s going here but eager to find out.
“Usually, I’d have something big for you to open at the end of your day,” he starts. He almost looks nervous at this point, and it’s concerning you, “This year, I don’t have anything like that because I thought we might do something different for your main gift.”
You look up at him and shift your body to face him a little more. He had your attention now. You try to mentally run through different possibilities for a different kind of big present. Vacation? No, you’d done that before. Moving? That also seemed unlikely. Maybe it was related to his work? You honestly had no clue.
“What is it?” you ask.
“I think it’s time we start trying for a baby,” he says, his eyes going soft and his voice dropping to be more hushed.
Your heart jolts inside your chest. You almost don’t believe you heard him right. He must have said something else. That or he was just playing the most cruel joke in the entire world.
“But you said you didn’t want any?” you say skeptically.
“I know I did. But… I was wrong,” he says with a slight smile. 
Leon had told you on each rare occasion that the topic of kids came up that he did not want any under any circumstances. This life was too dangerous, he wouldn’t have time for them, he wanted you all to himself. All were reasons you’d heard over the years. You’d honestly just shoved your small hopes for a family away because he seemed certain of his position on the topic. You’d come to terms that it would never happen. It was him or the white picket fence fantasy, and you’d chosen him with no real hesitation.
“And you just changed your mind out of the blue?” you ask.
He shakes his head with a chuckle. He kisses your pulse point as his fingers start tracing small circles on your arm. “No, no. I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he whispers.
Your breath hitches at the sensation of his mouth on your skin again. You tilt your head back and shut your eyes, letting him work. You were already buzzed from the drinks you had, and this wasn’t making it easier to think through your line of questioning.
“I’ve been having these dreams, y’know,” he breathes as if he senses your uncertainty, “Once every couple days, I’m seeing you pregnant. You’re looking fucking gorgeous, belly swollen and bright smile on your face. Then I wake up. And after a few times, I realized I don’t want that to only be a dream anymore.”
He continues trailing his mouth along your skin, leaving small love bites scattered throughout the sheen remnants of saliva. Your head is swirling with the mix of his actions and words, and what it means. He wanted you pregnant. It didn’t sound real to you even with his brief explanation.
“You want to change the entire direction of our lives because you had a few dreams?” you ask.
He laughs softly into the crook of your neck. “I’d been thinking about it anyway. I’m not getting any younger, baby. I guess I’ve softened in my old age cause what I want more than anything is to see my precious little doll holding our baby,” he says with a mix of teasing and seriousness in his voice.
It makes you smile and exhale with amusement. You turn your face in his direction and catch his lips in a real kiss. When he pulls away, his breath is coming out in heavier puffs. His eyes, blown out with love, are locked in a stare with you. His hand slips down to your midriff, palm flattening over your tummy.
“It wasn’t so hard to realize, babydoll. I’d be fucking insane to not want to see you carrying my baby. You’ll be the prettiest little mama,” he whispers.
His voice had become huskier, his thumb moving back and forth on your bottom lip. You were completely enraptured with him right now. Your head was growing fuzzier by the second, and the desire for him to fuck you full of cum was only getting stronger.
“You can’t even understand how much I’ll love watching that belly grow. How it’ll start sticking out of every shirt you have till we have to buy you a whole set of new ones,” he murmurs against your skin, “And don’t even get me started on how these are gonna fill out.” His hand moves to your breasts, gripping the plump flesh under his palm .
Now your breath was picking up a bit too. You shift in your seat in an attempt to alleviate the building tension in your center. His kisses become more aggressive and simple touches morph into rougher grabs.
“I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off you, babydoll. Gonna have to fuck you like we’re still trying even when you’re in the last few months,” he grunts.
The softest whimper escapes you, but he hears it. You feel his smirk against your skin. He lightly nips at your throat and pulls back, letting you see his smug expression in its entirety.
“You like that idea, yeah?” he coos quietly, “So much attention for you, baby. Constantly being doted on. You’re not gonna lift a finger for nine months. Gonna let me take care of everything while all your energy goes into growing our baby.”
You look up at him helplessly. Big, sweet eyes that remind him of a puppy. He grins as your head bobs up and down in a nod.
“My good fucking girl. Let’s get out of here,” he says.
You’re quick to follow him out of the booth after he drops a couple bills on the table. Your fingers lace with his as he leads you to the main doors and back to the car. You take him in as he guides you. Just a few moments to admire his broad shoulders and muscular biceps. His protective grip and eyes that seemed serious to everyone else, but you could tell held more mischievous intent.
Once you reach the car, he opens the door for you, giving you a quick smack on the ass as you climb in. He’s right next to you after that, and as the engine comes to life, you almost wish he’d waited to have that conversation in here instead. Because now you were gonna have to sit here, turned on and untouched for the ride back. Heated skin and glossy eyes, it was pretty obvious how you were feeling. Most likely everyone in that restaurant and the driver sitting one seat in front of you all knew that Leon was going to fuck you dumb as soon as you stepped through the doors to your apartment.
You come to figure though, that if it’s already so obvious, what’s the harm in being a little more overt? Scooting over to him, you lean into his firm side. He looks down at you knowingly. Your fingers curl over his thick thigh, nearly brushing the most sensitive area of his lap.
“Feeling a little impatient?” he teases softly.
You nod. Sure your driver could hear murmuring, you just hoped he couldn’t make out exact words.
“Yeah, what do you want me to do about it?” he mocks, “You need Daddy’s fingers in that tight cunt? Can’t even wait till we get home to cum?”
You bite your lip to muffle the whine blooming in your throat. Your face burns at the use of the title that melted your mind down to a few simple words. Yes Daddy. Thank you Daddy. Pretty please. Wanna cum. 
With another nod, you sink further into his chest. Your eyes remain up and keep their focus on him.
“Well, since it’s your birthday…” he starts. His hand swoops beneath your dress, bypassing your thighs this time and cupping your pussy, fingers coasting over the damp fabric.
You were pulsing with desire, your heart thudding against your chest. He pulls your lacy garment to the side to run his digits through your folds and feel the slick that had gathered for him. A low chuckle leaves him, and all you can think is how grateful you are for the radio being turned on, no matter how low the volume. From how wet you were, you were sure in dead silence you’d be able to hear more lewd noises than the words spilling from Leon’s mouth.
“Oh, you really can’t wait. You’re already making a mess all over my seats,” he whispers.
The pad of his finger swirls over your clit, and you hum quietly in relief. The pressure in the pit of your belly releases a bit as the warm flow of pleasure courses through you. Your eyes flutter shut, your hands hook around his arm for comfort, and you press your face to his shoulder to obscure your reactions to the feeling.
“My perfect little doll. I press the right button and look how well you behave,” he breathes.
You suck in a breath, narrowly avoiding a whimper tumbling into the car. He plays with your bundle of nerves for a minute more before slipping two fingers down and slipping them inside you.
Your fingers dig into the sleeve of his suit, clutching it as he pumps in and out of you. He works himself in, up to his knuckles. Your thighs part a little more to give him some space to work with. He shakes his head and playfully tuts at the display of need.
“Poor baby, Daddy got you so worked up, didn’t he?” he coos softly against your head.
You nod quickly. All your focus is on keeping quiet as his fingers move between your walls as you clamp around them. He smiles and continues lightly. It was your birthday so he would be nice, wouldn’t try to embarrass you too bad.
You’re so wrapped up in the throes of ecstasy he’s bringing you that you don’t even notice when the car has stopped. The only thing you notice is his fingers are now gone and you feel painfully empty.
Your eyes dart up when you lose the warm, filling sensation. Unlike usual, you contain your whine of protest as you realize your moments away from getting what you really wanted.
Like a movie of the beginning of the evening playing in reverse, you both make your way back to the elevator. He keeps a firm hold on your hand as he takes the lead. You stumble behind, all but collapsing in his arms once you're in the elevator. He leans down into some sloppy kisses. Your tongues meet, and your lips smoosh against each other fervently as if you’re running out of time.
After what seems like forever, you hear that little ding, and he wastes no time pulling you into the apartment. You’re kissing on the way to the bedroom, hands roaming one another as you bump into furniture and nearly knock clutter off tables. His suit jacket is gone before the bed is even in sight. Buttons on his shirt had already been popped open as he throws you on the bed.
He climbs on top of you, continuing to make out with you for a moment. His lips start to head south, finding their place on your neck again while his hands start pushing up the skirt of your dress to bunch it at your waist. There was no teasing tonight. You were the birthday girl after all, and he intended to keep his word that the evening was about you.
His entire body drifts downward now. Placing himself on the end of the mattress, you nearly can’t see him from fabric that was hiked up. You can feel him though. Tongue and teeth grazing along your inner thighs, making you shudder.
In the midst of his frenzy of desire, he seems to remember something. He rises to his knees and starts to properly remove the dress from your body.
“Almost forgot to unwrap my gift,” he says.
He’s discarded the dress to the floor in no time. You lie there, on display for him in the lingerie he’d chosen just for this. His hands stroke your sides as he takes in the view of your nipples pebbles beneath the embroidered rosebuds, the soaked patch of fabric between your thighs. He’s lost in the sight of you, feeling almost as hazy as you did.
“Sweet baby, the only present I ever need,” he mumbles before lowering himself to the bed again.
He yanks down the pretty panties and tosses them over to sit with your dress. Then you finally feel some of the relief you’d been craving. He dives into your cunt, lips moving as he envelops your sex in the heat of his mouth. 
His tongue strokes up and down the velvet skin. He laps at your clit, paying attention to the precious bundle of nerves that had you crying out and writhing in his hold. You reach down and tug at his hair, causing a loud groan to emanate from the junction of your thighs. He devours you with increasing fervor.
“Pussy’s so fucking pretty,” he mutters into you, “So cute. My favorite toy.”
Your head falls back while your hips roll against his face. Gasps and whines erupt from your throat freely as you rotate between clawing at the sheets and pulling at his hair.
“All for you Daddy,” you choke out, trying not to devolve into a complete mess just yet.
He smirks up at you, enjoying the pathetic lilt in your voice. His thumb rubs your clit in quick strokes now while his mouth takes a quick break to speak. 
“That’s right, baby. All for Daddy,” he repeats, words coming out slow like you’d struggle to understand if he spoke too fast, “All mine whenever I want it. Isn’t that right?”
“Mhm, whenever you want,” you babble back.
“My smart girl,” he teases before returning to licking your cunt.
The room is vibrating to you. You’re so high in the clouds you can’t register anything in your mind that isn’t him. You vaguely feel him working two fingers inside you again as his lips wrap around your clit and suck on it in a way that causes you to shriek.
He laughs and continues on, holding your body in place as it jerks and seizes under his touch.
“Good girl, babydoll. Cum all over Daddy’s face. You deserve it,” he encourages you.
You keep cumming. Your slick coats his chin and mouth, and he laps up every drop that he can. He pleasures you through the high. Once he’s worked you over the edge, and he can tell you’re coming down, he pulls off.
“My favorite sound in the whole world. Those pretty noises you make while you let go for me,” he murmurs as he crawls back on top of you. He nuzzles your neck, leaving some kisses on the skin in the wake of your powerful release.
“You know that normally, I’d keep going, but I think we both wanna get to the next thing. Want me to breed that sweet pussy till I’m firing blanks,” he says.
He finishes pulling his shirt off and removes the clothing from his lower body quickly. He’s back on top of you before you even register he was gone. Lazily stroking his cock, he slides it between your folds, gently fitting up against you.
“My little doll ready?” he whispers.
You hook your arms around his neck and nod. He can tell by your languid movements that you’re almost loopy off your release.
“Yeah you are. My perfect girl,” he whispers as he slides in, sheathing himself in the warmth of your pussy.
He grunts and tightens his hold on you as he sinks all the way in with no resistance. Your walls flutter around him, already beginning to charge up the hot coils in his belly.
“Swear you were made for me,” he mumbles into your neck, “Pussy made for me to fuck full. Precious little face made for me to kiss.”
“Mhm,” you hum absentmindedly. You hook your legs around his waist, locking his hips against yours as he starts to grind himself into your cunt. His pelvis rubs against your sensitive clit while the head of his cock prods all your favorite spots deep inside.
He grunts and groans against your throat. Both of your hot and sticky skin slides against the others. His breath fans across you in hot pants as he starts working his hips a little harder, rocking in and out.
“Everything about you is all for me. My perfect doll. My good girl. My gorgeous fucking wife,” he growls.
You nod eagerly as you pull him closer. His hips smack against yours repeatedly, his heavy balls clapping against you with each thrust. Your breaths are shaky. It feels like you're headed towards another release with no ability to hold it off or stop it. You whine for him and squeeze around his length. So fucking tight, he actually whimpers to stop himself from blowing his load.
After a while more, he knows it’s imminent for both of you. He keeps pistoning his hips, rutting deep inside you while kissing you and capturing those sweet little sounds in his mouth.
“You there, babydoll? Gonna cum again for me?” he asks quietly, watching for the nod he knew you’d respond with. Once he sees it, he works a little harder, bringing you to the peak. “Yeah? You ready for Daddy to cum too? I know you are.”
With his voice rasping in your ear, his cock drilling deep inside you, it only takes one more thrust of his hips for you to reach the brink. You spill over into your second release. Your hips buck, and your chest heaves as the second round of ecstasy zips through you.
He hums as you contract around his shaft, clenching and drawing him in further, as if you’re crying out for him to give you his cum already. His cock twitches inside of you as he gasps and erratically fucks it into you. His entire body weight is pressing you down into the mattress as he lets go and gives up on not crushing you beneath him. It only added to the pleasure though. It was the closest you’d ever felt, and not only because his cock was bumping your cervix every couple seconds.
Soon enough, he’s spilled all that he can into you. He remains on top of you though, keeping you right where you should be. His arms snake under your body and the shift causes you to whimper since he still hadn’t pulled out. He holds you to him like you really were his dolly, peppering kisses along the side of your face and dragging his nose against your head.
“So good for me, like always,” he mumbles.
You reciprocate the affection with a few lazy kisses of your own. Your arms rest around him with no actual grip, simply just a way to show you return the sentiments.
The two of you just lay there like that for a little while, taking in each other, enjoying the peace that comes with release. You break the silence soon enough with a whisper.
“Think this has been my best birthday yet.”
He smiles and smooches you a few more times. “You deserve it, baby.”
“Thank you for making it perfect for me,” you say and tighten your limbs around him.
“Mhm,” he hums like it’s nothing. He then pulls back a little and looks down at you. “I don’t know why you’re talking like it’s over though, sweetheart. There’s still a few hours left of your actual birthday, and even then, I’m not gonna let some numbers stop me from fucking my gorgeous wife.”
You return the smile and pull him into a few more pecks.
“And I wasn’t lying, we’re going until I’m absolutely certain you’re knocked up,” he murmurs as he rocks his hips against you again, drawing a soft whimper from your throat, “And you know how precise I am. Probably shouldn’t make any plans for tomorrow, actually, probably need the whole weekend too.” He looks at you with a cocky smile before continuing the roll of his hips.
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vrisrezis · 10 months
Text
Atsv characters realizing they’re in love with you
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Gwens on the verge of tears, it’s the first time you’ve ever seen her like this in all the time you’ve known her. You’ve known gwen for almost your entire life, and never once have you ever seen her in such a state of affairs.
You suppose it’s reasonable, she lost Peter and she thinks she lost her father forever, the only other people she ever had. And then there’s you. Somebody she felt such deep emotions for even if she was unaware how deep they ran.
There’s so many emotions and so many thoughts running through her head, when she sees you for the first time in what feels like years.
You don’t say anything.
You stare at her, the state she’s in.
Your movements are slow and meticulous, calculated. And she wonders if you’re doing that because you’re cautious, because you’re scared of her.
“I don’t know what dad told you.” fear drips from her vocal cords, “but I promise you,” she’s desperate, wanting your touch so badly but fearing you truly saw her as a monster too, “I would never, ever, kill Peter.”
the building you’re both on, feels so much darker than it really is. It feels like she’s revealing herself to her dad for the first time all over again. She wants to cave in on herself but she fights every need to push you away because she needs you in her life.
“And believe me, I wanted to tell you! I did! I really did!” she tries desperately to explain, finally letting a tear slip out.
As soon as she let one go, it became a waterfall of tears.
“I love you.” she says, voice barely above a whisper, taking you both by surprise.
She realizes what she said, but she doesn’t dwell on it for much longer. Because she realizes, finally, what she said was true.
And now that she finally knows what it is she’s truly been feeling for you all these years, it hurts even more to look at you and not know what you could possibly think about her. She wishes she knew what was going through your head, she wishes she could just tell what you were feeling by searching your face but she just can’t find anything. She doesn’t know what you make of this. She doesn’t know if she’s going to lose you today.
“Please.” she feels her lips wobble, she knows she’s going to completely break down if you don’t say something, anything, in the next minute.
All she’s met with is more silence.
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Miles knew he had a crush on you, sure. That simply made sense, it was common knowledge to anyone that wasn’t an idiot. Well, except you. But miles didn’t think you were an idiot, just maybe oblivious. It’s not like he minded, he was grateful that he liked the one, singular person in this very world that was oblivious enough to not catch onto Miles’s adoration for you.
Miles talked about you a lot, admittedly. His parents were naturally happy he had found an actual friend that wasn’t away, that wasn’t ganke, and that clearly made him so happy. In fact, Rio mentions how she’s never seen her son so happy to talk about somebody. She had teased him a few times, and although miles tried to deny it, both her and Jeff knew he liked you a little bit more than a friend should. Though, a little bit is a stretch. He liked you a LOT more than a friend should.
And man, when you finally met them. Ohhh boy.
Miles had tried to prevent it for so long, in fear his parents would embarrass him, even worse if they didn’t like you. But he had been delaying the inevitable long enough, and the time had finally came.
In the past, Rio had teased him about being in love. Of course, miles denied the fact. He had a crush sure, but love? That’s a lot, isn’t it?
But seeing you interact with his parents, getting along with them so well. Even with his dad?
He just can’t stop staring, and while normally Rio would be concerned, she simply walks over to her son with a knowing smile.
“I think Im in love.”
“I know, mijo”
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Hobie had a rough day, to say the least. Being spiderpunk, spiderman, was tough. And as much as he complained about it, he was perfectly content with the way he went on living. Especially since it had given him the power to protect you, and fight for his beliefs.
But regardless it was sometimes a painful experience, being spiderman. The gash on his side wasn’t too huge, but was deep enough to cause him pain anytime he walked. Swinging around wasn’t much better.
He decided to swing by your place, since it was closer to him and while he hated the idea of bothering you while he was in this state, hated the idea of worrying you, he knew it was the best option if he wanted to get back to fighting as quick and as painless as possible.
He lets himself in through the window, as always. He walks over to your hunched over form at your desk, peeking over. “Biochem?” he asked aloud, and you, unbothered, simply nod. “Yknow you should really start locking the window sweets.” he says with a grin, and while you’d normally be annoyed by his remarks, you notice a strain in his voice that makes you look up at him.
You’re quick to stand up, “hobie! Jesus what happened to you!?” you said, ushering him into your bathroom so that you can get your first aid kit.
He sits down on the toilet, before shrugging. “Stuff..”
you’ve fixed him up before, but this was a little different. There was a change in your demeanor. It wasn’t out of this world for you to worry for him, but this felt vastly different this time around.
You were so kind, so gentle with him.
In his mind, he’s undeserving.
The warmth of your hands on him, was the only thing he could think about. Not even the pain of literally being stabbed could compare to how electrifying your touch felt.
Perhaps it was the blue led lighting in your bathroom or the loss of blood but, you looked so beautiful right now.
“I think I love you.” he whispers quietly, staring into your eyes.
Staring back, you can’t help but think you love this idiot too.
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Pavitr is an idiot when it comes to romance, whether he likes to act like he’s good at it or not. He is not as smooth as he pretends to be. He realizes this anytime he tries to shoot his shot at you. He fumbles with his words and has to come up with some excuse as to why he needs to leave in that exact moment, immediately. Even pretending to flirt with his best friend, gayatri, doesn’t work. He does it so well with her, but when it comes to you he just cannot articulate his words. He finds himself totally lost.
It doesn’t take an idiot to figure out his feelings for you are strong, and that his feelings go deeper beyond friendship. You seem to be the only moron in all of mumbattan that hasn’t noticed, and he’s not sure if he’s grateful or in great agony.
One of the biggest reasons he was so obvious about how he liked you, was shown through how clingy he was. Physical affection is his love language, after all. But it goes beyond that, he always finds himself wanting to spend time with you. He even insists on walking you home even when his house is in the opposite direction, his excuse being that he wants you to get home safely despite being in broad daylight. It’s still a dangerous world out there, is his reasoning.
But it’s been so long since he last walked you home. When you were kids, he did it all the time. As you grew older, the tradition seemed to stick but as he became spiderman this occurrence became less frequent. It’s been months since he’s been able to do this.
The sun is bright, but it hits your face perfectly. And he can’t help but think you look like some ethereal god. Given his line of work, he doesn’t think it would be that weird if you were one.
He feels like he can’t breathe, and he doesn’t even realize its cause he’s way too focused on you, every little feature. Your hair, eyes, your nose, cheeks, mouth. Anything he could possibly look at on your face, he’s looking. He’s not listening to a word you’re saying, he watches your lips move but he cannot catch a damn thing. The grip he has on his bookbag becomes tighter, his face feels hot and he wants to say it’s because of the sun but he knows that’s not true. God, has your laugh always been so pleasant to the human ears? Or was that just him?
His lips move, before he even has a chance to stop the words from coming out, like word vomit.
“God I love you”
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keyotos · 11 months
Note
may i request how blade, gepard, welt, jing yuan and dan heng react to the “what are we?” question (also if you could add a little bit of yanqing and jing yuan father/son dynamic in jing yuan’s part? 😭😭
feel free to ignore this if you don’t feel inspired tho. anyways, luv your works !! <333
the things we do
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summary ⎯ late nights, lingering touches, longing looks. it just confuses you. this prompts you to ask the question that usually leads to the downfalls of most relationships: what are we?
includes ⎯ dan heng, gepard, blade, welt, & jing yuan
tana's words ⎯ i got so excited when i saw this. there's no angst in this btw
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dan heng
⎯ dan heng didn't know what you guys were. but if he said that he treated you the same way he would treat march and stelle, that would be a lie.
⎯ yes, he was friendly towards you. but there were things he'd only allow when it came to you. things such as allowing you in his room during late hours; borrowing (stealing) one of his books; distracting him; the list goes on
⎯ so maybe you guys weren't just friends. but if you weren't friends, then what were you?
⎯ dan heng recognizes that there is at least something between you two. sometimes while reading one of his books, you'd lean into him a little too close: closer than friends should be, but farther than two people who are together. it was like there was a wall between the both of you that kept you in the middle ground.
⎯ dan heng realizes that you two may have crossed that line on a cold night.
“dan heng?” you mumble as you felt a dip in your mattress.
“how’d you know it was me?” he mumbled back, breath fanning on your neck. he had his arms wrapped around your stomach, slightly pulling you closer.
it was a stupid question to ask. how could you have not known it was him? you’ve felt the brush of his hands against yours one too many times; felt the way his hands have held onto yours for seconds too long. had he not realized?
“who else would sneak into my room this late at night?” you tensed against dan heng.
⎯ it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to fall asleep near each other. but that’s the thing: you fell asleep near each other, not next to each other. and especially not falling asleep whilst wrapping their arms around the other person!?!?!?
⎯ dan heng didn’t know what had prompted him to come into your room that night. he didn’t know what had came over him. that night, it was cold and you weren’t in his room with him. so, in a tired dazed, he thought it was completely normal to abandon his room to come cuddle in yours.
⎯ key word: normal. it was normal to be around you. it was normal to want to be around you all the time. it was normal to want to wrap his arms around you and burrow himself in the nape of your neck. it was normal to want to (perhaps) place a chaste kiss on your neck.
⎯ and that’s when dan heng finally realized: that is not normal and he is in love. but he wasn’t going to bring it up. nooooo. no, because it would never work. right?
it was another late night. this time, dan heng was sitting on his bed while reading. he was relaxed today while you could not stop moving. today was the day where you were going to ask the infamous question: what are we?
⎯ it shouldn’t be so scary, but when dan heng and your feelings are involved, it seems as such.
“dan heng,” you ask, looking at the ground, “what are we?”
⎯ dan heng, taken aback, immediately slams his book shut and places his full attention onto you.
“what do you mean?” dan heng gets up and moves closer to you. dan heng already has an answer to his question.
“what are we doing?” you turn, refusing to look at him. “friends don’t do what we do.”
“we are friends,” dan heng places his hand upon yours, it brings you a feeling you’ve grown to familiarize with. “but," he pauses, carefully choosing the next words that come out of his mouth, "we can be more. only if you want," he interlocks your fingers together, holding them close to his side.
dan heng doesn't miss the smile you're trying to bite down as he leans into your touch. when dan heng leads you to the ground to continue reading, you had to physically stop yourself from bursting out in a (embarrassingly large) grin.
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gepard
⎯ gepard hadn't put what thought into what the two of you were until tonight. what were you two?
⎯ captain and lieutenant, of course. but do captains and lieutenants share late nights together, reminiscing on childhood memories as they sit thigh-to-thigh next to each other. do they also sneak off during night shifts to get late night dinner? do they also look at the others' lips, dreaming about inconceivable thoughts about the other?
⎯ i mean, maybe? but maybe not.
⎯ then it hit gepard: how long have you two been like this? did the lines start to blur after you started nagging gepard about getting rest? when you helped him take on paperwork in the late hours of the night?
⎯ gepard loved your nagging. he loved spending late nights with you, because even though he has to do mounds of paperwork, at least he was able to spend time with you. he knew he had a duty to belobog, but when you're tugging on his hand, his fingers feeling hot and tingly paired with his burning cheeks, how could he say no?
⎯ but there are always risks. especially when you're a silvermane guard. your lives are simply too risky for anything to ever happen between the two of you. that's why gepard immerses himself in the little moments between you two: moments where he gets to pull you closer into him; when you place your head on his shoulder to rest; when he gets to subtly brush his hands over yours.
⎯ little did gepard know that these actions sent you into a little frenzy. you were pondering where the lines between close coworkers and lovers were drawn. you felt hot every time he touched you; felt brazen when you placed your head on his shoulders. did he feel the same? if he didn't, why was he initiating all these actions?
you asked the question on yet another late night in his office, the both of you doing paperwork. "gepard, what are we?"
⎯ he looked up instantaneously, the sound of your voice immediately getting his attention. when the question itself rendered in his mind, he had to take a second to think. gepard knows you two weren't only captain and lieutenant.
"captain and lieutenant," gepard plays dumb, not knowing how to properly answer your question so soon. your face drops for a second and gepard already wants to rush over and do something to make you feel better.
"you know we're more than that," you trailed off quietly. you took your focus off of gepard and now put your all into finishing your half of the paperwork, taking gepard's response as a sign of rejection. you finished and left for the night. when you bid him goodbye, gepard wanted nothing more but to you pull you in with the slight grasp of his hands on your arm and beg you to stay the night.
⎯ after that, you avoided gepard for a few days. there was distance between the two of you, and gepard was freaking out. had you taken his answer as a sign of rejection?? how does he make it right?? what'll he'll do without you???? how can he LIVE without you?? so, he goes to serval for help.
⎯ the next day he storms throughout the fort to find you. he hasn't spoken to you in a few days, and gepard swore he was going mad.
"yn," gepard rushed to stand in front of you, briefly slamming the door shut. he knew that it was loud, but right now gepard had more important priorities, "i need to talk to you."
his arm was placed on your wrist, turning you around tenderly, "yes, captain?" when you said captain instead of gepard, he felt his heart shatter.
"your question. from a few nights ago," gepard panted out, "i don't know what we are. but i want to find out. with you. only you, if you'd give me another chance," gepard flushed when he said his last sentence. you took notice of this, coming closer towards him.
"you're dramatic, gepard," you teased, pulling him into an embrace. you felt gepard melt within your touch, "i would've given you a chance no matter what."
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blade (kinda modern!au-ish).
⎯ the question of the relations between you and blade never dwelled on his mind. you were here, you stayed, and you're happy. shouldn't that be enough?
⎯ blade never gave thought to the little smile he had on his face when he saw you laughing. he never considered why he felt so much more at ease when you were around. he just thought that, because you two were friends, it was normal to have tingly blissful euphoric feelings around you! he would never admit it either, but he always felt so excited when he saw you.
⎯ yeah... who is going to break the news to him
⎯ as much as he tried, blade couldn't ignore the fact that some of the things he felt for you were more than just friendship. he knew he needed to reevaluate his feelings, especially after he saw you with another guy the other day.
⎯ it's unusual for blade to become jealous. he usually isn't bothered by the problems of others. but today, he had a solid reason. you two had made plans to walk around the xianzhou and get lunch. so why would you be associating with this random guy while you had plans with blade?? stupid reasoning but can u blame him?? he's jealous.
⎯ he rushes to your side, interested in who this new mystery guy was. you guys were friends, so it would've been common courtesy to introduce him to you, right? so he marches right up to you and wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer into him.
"look at you making new friends," blade smirks as he feels your shoulder collide into his torso, "care to introduce me?"
⎯ you are out here FREAKING TF OUT. is blade jealous??? before this point, you thought your feelings for blade were unreciprocated, no matter how many times you tried to delude yourself otherwise. there were some times where you thought blade had similar feelings towards you, only for it to be debunked.
⎯ but this?? why was he suddenly pulling you so close to him?? why is he practically giving your friend the death stare?? is he jealous? he couldn't be: you two aren't even together. but is it possible that blade does reciprocate your feelings?
you try to avoid blade's eyes, making sure he doesn't see you flush, "this is [friends name]. he just moved here, i was just showing him around." you can feel your skin start to warm.
⎯ what does this mean? why is blade acting like this? are you two friends or not? is he just pulling your leg? these questions raced through your head as you followed him to the restaurant you two agreed to get lunch at.
your silence did not go unnoticed by blade. as someone who was usually very chatty and upbeat, you were exceedingly quiet today. "is something wrong?" he asked, tone less cockier than the one he used earlier.
⎯ yes something is wrong. you're confused on where the both of you lie. have you crossed the line? has he crossed the line? there were nights where you laid side by side, hearts both fluttering as you relaxed in the silent. there were also nights where you felt as though your heart would explode if blade had brushed a hand through your hair once more. but after blade's little stunt today, it left you confused on where he lay in the entire equation. you had to find out.
"what... what was that earlier?" you muster up the courage to look up at him. you're sitting across from him, legs almost touching his. if today was under different circumstances (and a different universe in general), this could be considered a date.
⎯ your question made blade lose this breath. maybe you caught onto the fact that he was jealous. blade fidgeted with his hand under the table; now that you've caught on, is now the time to sort out his feelings? blade realized that you two may not just be friends. but he hasn't thought about what you two would be if you weren't friends. and he'd sound like an asshole if he just responded with i don't know.
"just wanted to know who your friend was," blade diverted. it was an obvious and blatant lie, even he knew it.
"don't be like that," your eyes softened. you rested your head on your hand as you took a deep breath. if you weren't as hyper-focused on what blade's nexts words were going to be, you would be able to easily find your answer based on the way blade is admiring you. the way the sun hits your face perfectly, making you glow right across from him. you looked divine.
"what are we?" you finally asked. "are we really just friends?" you accentuated the last sentence with a small hint of hope in your voice; hope that may have implied you were wishing to be more than friends.
blade paused, trying to carefully construct his sentence. it would take hours for him to describe how he truly felt about you. it would take even longer to decipher his feelings towards you. so for now, he settles with this, "no. but whatever you want, i will grant it for you. and if you want to talk about it, i'll talk about it with you, because i'll be there for you. that i can assure you."
and you smile, because even though that answer was slightly incomplete, it meant that there was a sliver of hope after all.
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welt yang
⎯ tbh i don't even think this man knows what a situationship is. but he regards you as a close colleague and his respect for you is very high. so high that some have trouble differentiating whether his feelings towards you are platonic or romantic.
⎯ there are so many nights and afternoons you two just spend together. you're either watching him draw or pressuring him to do art-offs. obviously the winner would be you (welt).
⎯ he spends so much time with you that, over time, the lines between friendship and relationship began to blur. you two were practically acting like a couple already, though you two didn't know it.
⎯ himiko had her suspicions. she knew there was something up with the both of you, but she didn't know if it was official or not. it would be embarrassing if she regarded the two of you as friends if the both of you were dating. however, it'd be equally embarrassing if she did the same thing, but vice versa. so she asked!
"so, yn. are you and welt together?" himiko asked out of the blue one day. the two of you were in the parlor car drinking tea whilst welt & the others were trailblazing.
you nearly spit out your tea at the question. before now, you've never viewed you and welt as anything but friends. "where did that question come from?" you quickly retorted.
himiko raised her eyebrows in shock, "are you serious?" she gave you a confused look, which slowly turned into a look of realization, "oh shit, i didn't just ruin your secret relationship right?"
you were baffled, "what?! no, no there is nothing going on between me and welt," you quickly downed your tea as a way to get rid of your blush (fluster = stupid). "where did you even get that idea from?"
himiko gave you a pitiful look, as if she knew something that you didn't. "everyone thinks you two have something going on. i mean, have you noticed the way he looks at you? and have you heard your little couple-y banter?"
"we don't 'couple-y banter,' himiko," you denied. himiko raised her eyebrow once more. "and he looks at me like a normal person would."
"yn, he looks absolutely enamoured with you every time he even glances at you."
⎯ from then on, you began analyzing everything that welt did. the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, etc. nothing seemed out of the ordinary. except for the fact that your heart raced the more you looked at him. and the way you felt like you were being transported to another world every time he would rest his hand on your shoulder. and welt was completely oblivious to it.
⎯ does he know about this? does he know about the grip he has on you? does he think you two share "couple-y banter????"
⎯ you couldn't take it anymore. at this point, you were desperate to know. partially because you felt as though everyone knew except you, but also partially because you needed to clear out these rampant feelings for your colleague.
"welt," you spoke with utmost seriousness in your voice, "what are we?"
⎯ now, welt did not expect this. he thought he was being subtle about his feelings. he thought the way his hands would slightly brush over yours was subtle. he thought that he wasn't being obvious. so how did you know??
"is there⎯something between us?" you stared at him, desperate for answers.
⎯ welt took your questions as rejections. the way your tone shifted to seriousness; the way you looked so worried; who else would act like this if they weren't going to reject someone? but alas, better to get it over with. things on the express may be more awkward, but it would've been awkward either way.
"i have feelings for you, yn," welt calmly stated. "i have for a while now. so, on my part, there is something between us. however, i completely understand if you feel differently."
you took a sigh of relief. this wasn't as awkward as you thought it'd be. plus, who said getting with welt was going to be negative?
"luckily for you," you leaned closer, "i don't," you grinned.
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jing yuan
⎯ jing yuan was completely unaware of any romantic speculations between the two of you. of course, people talked, but it wasn't like he would pay attention to them. he was too busy focusing on you (how ironic).
⎯ jing yuan thought everything was completely normal between the both of you until yanqing brought it up.
"when is your partner coming over again? if they're coming soon, tell them i'm ready to beat them at chess," yanqing boasted proudly.
"i think you're mistaken, yanqing. i don't have a partner," jing yuan furrows his eyebrows in confusion. who would yanqing even mistake as jing yuan's partner?
"oh really? so the person that comes over every now and then with the horribly baked goods is not your partner?" yanqing was referring to you, of course. practically the whole entire world knows about your terrible baking skills.
"no? why would you think that?" jing yuan crossed his arms.
"the way you look at them. you're also really gentle with them. you're not cocky or like, smug. and you're always looking out for them," yan qing answers.
"okay, but i'm also gentle with you. and i always look out for you as well. what is the difference?"
yanqing sighs, as if jing yuan was the child in the room. "you'll understand soon enough," yanqing lectures.
⎯ jing yuan started to think then. he interrogated yanqing about his reasoning for the assumption, curious on how anyone could ever think that. but then he also realized that anyone also meant a lot of people. it wasn't just yanqing that felt this way; it was nearly everyone that knew the both of you.
⎯ jing yuan thinks you two are just platonic. keyword being thinks. with his job, he tries to avoid romantic connection most of the time, fearing for his future partner and more. but with you, jing yuan feels that connection there, but he's just ignored it so much that he thinks it's gone. little did he know that those feelings were still there, wild and unbridled.
⎯ one day you come over again, terribly burnt goods in your bag as per usual, and it seems like everything is normal. you casually talk with jing yuan like always. he still doesn't get why yanqing thought of you two as a couple.
your conversation is very casual and platonic. that is, until yanqing comes in, "i smelled burnt things and i knew you came, yn," he waved, "we need to play chess soon, before jing yuan," yanqing narrows his eyes, "starts training." yanqing smirked and immediately jing yuan knew he was up to no good. "we can talk about how jing yuan wouldn't stop asking questions about you the other day."
⎯ jing yuan swore his eye twitched. he was about to hunt down the little kid before melodic sound of your laughter captured his attention. and maybe, just maybe, jing yuan wasn't thinking anymore.
⎯ a few days passed and his feelings have not changed from, well, ever. jing yuan finds himself more and more entranced by you every time you come over. he finds himself falling deeper and deeper into you after yanqing's comment.
⎯ this has not gone unnoticed by your eyes, however, as jing yuan seemed to be getting more and more obvious. he'd gaze at you longer than usual, check up on you more often, be more affectionate. it was uncanny, but it was appreciated. besides, you had similar feelings for him too.
"are you two together yet?" yanqing whined as you took one of his chess pieces. "no," you, "why? want me around more?" you teased.
"yes," yanqing immediately responds. you didn't expect such a fast response. "so you'd buy me food when my allowance runs short. or better yet, convince the general to get me food. he'd practically listen to anything you say."
⎯ within these short days, you find yourself more and more intrigued. intrigued, yet confused. when and where were the lines drawn between you and jing yuan? and does he really feel the same, or is yanqing exaggerating.
you spontateously popped the question on jing yuan one night. yanqing was asleep (thank god), so no sneaky quips from him during this moment. "what are we, jing yuan?"
the sound of his name on your lips made jing yuan lose his mind; it nearly distracted him from your question at hand. "we are together, according to yanqing," he joked. you, however, were serious.
"do you want us to be together?" you peer up at him, "because i wouldn't mind," you say the last part so quietly that jing yuan has to lean down to hear you.
jing yuan grins; it's not a grin of a (so called) scoundrel, but a grin of a man who is in love. he takes you in an embrace and secretly thanks yanqing in his head, all whilst pulling you closer within him.
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jing yuans was so insanely long bc i tried to include all the father son moments 😭😭 idek if it’s father son.
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kyeomofhearts · 1 month
Text
Back For More | J.WW
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+ summary: while adjusting to your new life in college, you couldn't help but attract the attention of wonwoo, someone who you happen to have a history with.
+ pairing: badboy!wonwoo x fem!reader
+ word count: 2.7k
+ content: badboy!wonwoo, college au, mature language, flirting (wonwoo is a menace), jealousy. [pls let me know if i missed anything!]
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV
[ᝰ.ᐟ] i hope you guys enjoy this! it's most likely going to be a two-parter so definitely let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! i would greatly appreciate it if you guys reblogged (maybe with comments too ^^) since i thrive on your guys' validation :)
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You were tired, very tired.
Granted, this was your own doing. Maybe if you hadn't pushed your responsibilities to the side last night you wouldn't have had to wake up so early to study for an exam, but what's done is done. This whole college thing was not going so well, to say the least. Sure, it's only the beginning of the second semester, but you already feel exhausted by all of your class workloads.
Just ten more minutes of this boring lecture and you could finally go home and crawl into bed. But… that's only if you avoid him today. Which now that you’re thinking about it, you hope he isn’t waiting for you outside, again. That would be the last thing you needed today.
With that being said, things have felt a little weird if you were being honest. Of course, this was your first year of university, so things were bound to feel new and different. But there was something, or rather someone that was making you feel strange.
Around two weeks ago you noticed that Wonwoo, an old classmate of yours, had recently started to become a bit friendly towards you. While that normally wouldn’t be considered weird, you couldn’t help but feel skeptical about his intentions. You knew the kind of people he surrounded himself with, and especially the girls he would go after; which was the exact opposite of you. So what exactly did he want from you?
What also makes this situation more odd is that you’ve basically known Wonwoo for your whole life. Of course, you don’t actually know him, you just happened to go to the same elementary, middle, and high school (which is insane if you think about it). Acquaintance is a perfect word to describe your relationship with him, nothing more nothing less. So yeah… it’s a little weird when the guy you have been around for (almost) your whole life is suddenly trying to befriend you, there definitely had to be something wrong with him.
All you knew about Wonwoo was that he was on the more reserved and quiet side; mainly keeping to himself most of the time. His group of friends was quite the opposite of him, which always made you wonder how he even became friends with them in the first place.
Seeing how the lecture was ending soon, you started to pack your stuff; you were more than ready to dash straight out of the classroom. Having finished all of your assignments for today, you had nothing left to worry about. So once the professor had made her goodbyes, you made a straight beeline to the door, nothing was going to hold you back from your long-awaited nap. Your pace was brisk, attempting to avoid the backed-up main exit, you decided to go to the opposite door. The walk back to your apartment wasn’t too bad either, most of the time you saw it as a way to daydream and listen to music. So while you scrolled through your various playlists, you happened to miss the (very obvious) figure following you.
Wonwoo called out your name a few times until it finally dawned on him that you had your headphones on. He took a few long strides to catch up to you; he was very adamant on getting your attention this morning. With ease, he quickly plucked your headphones off of your head.
“What are we listening to today?” He said while adjusting the headphones on his head. It took you a second to fully process what he was doing. You knew he was doing it to provoke you, but you were determined to not let that happen today. So to his surprise, you simply kept walking. You figured that he would continue with his antics if you gave him the reaction that he wanted so you did the opposite, you ignored him.
What shocked him the most was seeing you pull out an old pair of earbuds and plugging them into your phone. He was dumbfounded to say the least, how were you so prepared and why were you ignoring him?
And again, he quickly caught up with a few simple steps. He took your headphones off of his head and tapped them against your shoulder.
With a tired sigh, you turned around to face him but couldn’t help but admire his face. You really didn't want to lose that ‘expressionless’ look you were going for (to help you ignore him of course), but that small smile of his was enough to crack you down. It's like he knew that it was your one weakness when it came to him. This was the most annoying part of it all. Anytime he smiled or looked at you, a tiny part inside you secretly liked it, making you crave his attention at times.
Objectively speaking, Wonwoo was very handsome. That was something you could never deny, you would even go as far as to say that he was your type but you didn't particularly like the people he called his ‘friends’ so you were stuck in a weird limbo.
“Is there something on my face, birdy?”
You scoffed at the nickname. “I told you not to call me that.”
Wonwoo’s eyes were looking straight into yours, a smirk slowly creeping up to his lips. It didn't help that he was looking really good today either, his messy hair combined with the whole biker fit did wonders for your eyes. He was about to say something before you heard your ringtone go off, evidently cutting him off.
Oh.
It was Hyunwoo. That's odd... you finished your shared project with him rather early, what could he be calling you about? Either way, you answered the random call in front of a rather annoyed Wonwoo.
"Hello?"
"Heyyy yn, I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch later today?" You couldn't help but feel your eyes widen at his sudden question. Since when did he want to hang out with you? Last time you checked he had a plethora of girls that he was talking to... maybe he was interested in you? No, you shouldn't get too ahead of yourself...
"Um... let me check if I have anything to do first. Can I call you back?" You knew that you sounded nervous but how else were you supposed to feel when the cute guy from your physics class was literally asking you to eat lunch with him?
As soon as you ended the call, you felt Wonwoo's arm snake its way down to your waist. You couldn’t help but yelp at the sudden intimate contact. Chuckling at your reaction, he leaned down, closer to your ear. “Who was that?”
"No one." You stated simply, it wasn't his business anyway.
"Hm, okay," Wonwoo rested his head on your shoulder, continuing to speak lowly in your ear. "I'll remember that birdy."
Before you could even come up with something to counter him, he decided to speak up once again.
"Well, I do have something rather important to tell you." His voice was so calm and soothing, you could honestly listen to it for hours on end if you had the chance.
"What is it?" You hoped he couldn't sense your rather, embarrassing, curiosity.
"Heard you used to have a little crush on me," his voice was evidently smug, knowing that this would surely get a rise out of you.
Which it did.
Your face burned at the memories of when you used to have a crush on Wonwoo. But, that had to be in fourth grade… so how could he have known about that? Nonetheless, you scoffed at his statement, not wanting to know that you were a little embarrassed by the sudden reminder.
“Key word, had,” you rolled your eyes at him. This did make you curious though, who could have possibly told him that? So you asked him exactly that.
“How do you even know about that?” His smile never faltered even as you lightly pushed his hand away from your waist. If anything, this made him want to touch you even more.
“I have my ways,” he stated simply. Of course, he does. You hated when he would shrug things off, now this was going to bother you for the entire week!
One thing about Wonwoo was that he has always been curious about you, this interest stemming back all the way to your elementary days. This curiosity eventually intensified in junior year of high school when you began to show your blatant distaste towards him. He just had to get to know you.
He looked down at you, his face was unreadable like always. You never knew what was going on in that mind of his.
"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be hanging out with your actual friends?" Sometimes you couldn't help but blurt out your thoughts to him even if they sounded a bit rude. His face faltered for a split second, probably caught off guard by the random question. Shoot, you really didn’t mean to say that out loud. Although, it looks like Wonwoo didn’t take any offense to your sudden question. If anything, it made him... smile?
“I am hanging out with my friend,” he stopped you to face him, “which is you.” You rolled your eyes at him. That had to be the corniest thing he has ever said to you if you were being honest. You just hated that giddy feeling he would give you any time he said something remotely cheesy.
"Ugh, you're so dumb," you groaned while checking the time on your phone. It was getting close to noon and you hadn't responded to Hyunwoo's question from earlier. Maybe it was best if you didn't go... who knows what he wanted from you. If you were being completely honest, you didn't know if you had it in you to see other people at the moment, aside from Wonwoo of course.
"Have somewhere to be?" Wonwoo asked, a hint of concern peeking through his voice.
"No, thank god, but I do have a scheduled nap to get to so if you don't mind-" you were cut off by the sound of an engine revving, making your body jump at the unexpected noise. You turned to see where the source of the commotion was coming from but then realized it was coming from a group of bikers nearby; most likely Wonwoo's friends.
Or so you thought?
Wonwoo didn't seem too pleased with the group that was getting closer to where the two of you were. On the contrary, Wonwoo looked pissed. His jaw was visibly clenched, the gentle grip he had on your waist tightened, and his eyes lost that playful spark he had earlier. You couldn't help but feel guilty for thinking about how hot Wonwoo looked when he was angry. Of course, you would never want to be on the receiving end of his anger but seeing it on the sidelines was quite... interesting.
Wait. This might actually be serious, so it's best if you leave before anything crazy happens.
"I think I'm going to head out now..." you said quietly as you tried to slip away from Wonwoo's (awfully) strong grasp.
He turned to look at you, his eyes softening once they landed on your figure. Why did they have to come and bother him at this exact moment? He knew that whatever was going to happen was not going to be pretty, but he found himself reluctant to let you go.
Before truly letting you go, he quietly asked, "Are you sure? I can take you home if you want me to." As soft as his voice was, he still managed to sound composed which was comforting considering the situation.
You nodded in response, "I don't live that far from here so it's fine, thank you for the offer though." You managed to flash him a small, awkward smile before turning away from him and heading toward the direction of your apartment. You didn't know what exactly was going on between those guys and Wonwoo but it for sure wasn't friendly. Although it wasn't exactly your issue, you couldn't help but feel worried about Wonwoo, even if he was a pain in the ass sometimes.
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Much to your dismay, that scheduled nap never came your way that day.
You blame Wonwoo, how were you supposed to sleep peacefully knowing he was probably getting jumped? Okay, you might be jumping to conclusions but what else were you supposed to think about when he was visibly angry at the mere sight of those guys?
Realistically speaking, it's only been two days since that whole incident happened. Granted, you haven't seen Wonwoo since then but that could mean a lot of things.
[...]
While you were in line to get a smoothie from one of the pop-up shops near the campus, you felt a sudden tap on your shoulder.
"Did my little birdy miss me?" You felt Wonwoo say right next to your ear, his breath fanning across your earlobe. It sent a wave of tingles down your spine, making you shudder in turn. Though you weren't a fan of his spontaneous appearance.
"God, you need to stop doing that! I almost slapped you I swear-" You stopped mid-way once you turned around and saw his face. He had a few cuts on his lips and eyebrows and one big bruise across his cheek. Those guys really did a number on him.
Your eyebrows furrowed in concern, "are you okay?"
He tried to wave it off but you could tell he was bothered by your question, "It's fine, really, don't worry about it." Was he insane? How were you not going to worry when he was visibly injured?
"Were these from the guys on Tuesday?" You couldn't help but ask, where else would he get these cuts and bruises if it didn't come from them?
His demeanor immediately switched and he pushed himself away from you.
"It's none of your business so stay out of it."
"Okay." That was the only thing you said before grabbing your smoothie from the worker and quickly walking away from the shop. If he wanted to be like that then so be it. You most definitely were not going to wait for him to 'open up' by all means, he could throw himself a pity party for all you care.
"Wait-" He tried reaching for your arm but you were too quick for him. Your steps were swift, helping you create a reasonable distance between you and Wonwoo. He called out your name a few times before giving up, he didn't want to gather any unwanted attention from the people nearby. Reaching your pace, Wonwoo was finally close enough to grab your wrist and make you look at him.
"Are you seriously ignoring me?" His voice was a bit jagged, no doubt coming from the unexpected cardio you made him do to catch up to you.
Unfortunately for him, you were petty. "You said it wasn't my business, so please do not talk to me because I really do not care." You brushed past him once again this time making sure he could not grab your arms or wrists.
He exhaled in annoyance, "Look I'm sorry-" Wonwoo was mid-apology before being abruptly cut off by the voice of a guy yelling your name out loud.
Speaking of the devil, what immaculate timing.
"Hey yn! Did you still want to get food after class?" Hyunwoo jogged to where you were standing but saw how Wonwoo was still trying to talk to you.
"Sorry, were you busy with him?"
You instantly responded to Hyunwoo, "No, he was just asking for directions, but yeah I'm down for food." Like before, you made your way towards Hyunwoo, making sure to bump into Wonwoo. He couldn't help but stay frozen in place as he watched you walk to class with some random guy, jealousy slowly invading his mind.
Directions? Did she really...?
As much as Wonwoo wanted to be mad at you, he really had no one to blame but himself. The whole situation with his old group of 'friends' was really getting to him so once you popped that question it just seemed to send him over the edge. He just didn't know how far you would go to express your annoyance towards him. Now all he had to do was find a way to properly apologize to you before that Hyunwoo guy got to you first.
The only thing stopping him? He didn't have your number or any of your socials...
Part Two: Coming soon...
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lisafication · 11 months
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For those who might happen across this, I'm an administrator for the forum 'Sufficient Velocity', a large old-school forum oriented around Creative Writing. I originally posted this on there (and any reference to 'here' will mean the forum), but I felt I might as well throw it up here, as well, even if I don't actually have any followers.
This week, I've been reading fanfiction on Archive of Our Own (AO3), a site run by the Organisation for Transformative Works (OTW), a non-profit. This isn't particularly exceptional, in and of itself — like many others on the site, I read a lot of fanfiction, both on Sufficient Velocity (SV) and elsewhere — however what was bizarre to me was encountering a new prefix on certain works, that of 'End OTW Racism'. While I'm sure a number of people were already familiar with this, I was not, so I looked into it.
What I found... wasn't great. And I don't think anyone involved realises that.
To summarise the details, the #EndOTWRacism campaign, of which you may find their manifesto here, is a campaign oriented towards seeing hateful or discriminatory works removed from AO3 — and believe me, there is a lot of it. To whit, they want the OTW to moderate them. A laudable goal, on the face of it — certainly, we do something similar on Sufficient Velocity with Rule 2 and, to be clear, nothing I say here is a critique of Rule 2 (or, indeed, Rule 6) on SV.
But it's not that simple, not when you're the size of Archive of Our Own. So, let's talk about the vagaries and little-known pitfalls of content moderation, particularly as it applies to digital fiction and at scale. Let's dig into some of the details — as far as credentials go, I have, unfortunately, been in moderation and/or administration on SV for about six years and this is something we have to grapple with regularly, so I would like to say I can speak with some degree of expertise on the subject.
So, what are the problems with moderating bad works from a site? Let's start with discovery— that is to say, how you find rule-breaching works in the first place. There are more-or-less two different ways to approach manual content moderation of open submissions on a digital platform: review-based and report-based (you could also call them curation-based and flag-based), with various combinations of the two. Automated content moderation isn't something I'm going to cover here — I feel I can safely assume I'm preaching to the choir when I say it's a bad idea, and if I'm not, I'll just note that the least absurd outcome we had when simulating AI moderation (mostly for the sake of an academic exercise) on SV was banning all the staff.
In a review-based system, you check someone's work and approve it to the site upon verifying that it doesn't breach your content rules. Generally pretty simple, we used to do something like it on request. Unfortunately, if you do that, it can void your safe harbour protections in the US per Myeress vs. Buzzfeed Inc. This case, if you weren't aware, is why we stopped offering content review on SV. Suffice to say, it's not really a realistic option for anyone large enough for the courts to notice, and extremely clunky and unpleasant for the users, to boot.
Report-based systems, on the other hand, are something we use today — users find works they think are in breach and alert the moderation team to their presence with a report. On SV, this works pretty well — a user or users flag a work as potentially troublesome, moderation investigate it and either action it or reject the report. Unfortunately, AO3 is not SV. I'll get into the details of that dreadful beast known as scaling later, but thankfully we do have a much better comparison point — fanfiction.net (FFN).
FFN has had two great purges over the years, with a... mixed amount of content moderation applied in between: one in 2002 when the NC-17 rating was removed, and one in 2012. Both, ostensibly, were targeted at adult content. In practice, many fics that wouldn't raise an eye on Spacebattles today or Sufficient Velocity prior to 2018 were also removed; a number of reports suggest that something as simple as having a swearword in your title or summary was enough to get you hit, even if you were a 'T' rated work. Most disturbingly of all, there are a number of — impossible to substantiate — accounts of groups such as the infamous Critics United 'mass reporting' works to trigger a strike to get them removed. I would suggest reading further on places like Fanlore if you are unfamiliar and want to know more.
Despite its flaws however, report-based moderation is more-or-less the only option, and this segues neatly into the next piece of the puzzle that is content moderation, that is to say, the rubric. How do you decide what is, and what isn't against the rules of your site?
Anyone who's complained to the staff about how vague the rules are on SV may have had this explained to them, but as that is likely not many of you, I'll summarise: the more precise and clear-cut your chosen rubric is, the more it will inevitably need to resemble a legal document — and the less readable it is to the layman. We'll return to SV for an example here: many newer users will not be aware of this, but SV used to have a much more 'line by line, clearly delineated' set of rules and... people kind of hated it! An infraction would reference 'Community Compact III.15.5' rather than Rule 3, because it was more or less written in the same manner as the Terms of Service (sans the legal terms of art). While it was a more legible rubric from a certain perspective, from the perspective of communicating expectations to the users it was inferior to our current set of rules  — even less of them read it,  and we don't have great uptake right now.
And it still wasn't really an improvement over our current set-up when it comes to 'moderation consistency'. Even without getting into the nuts and bolts of "how do you define a racist work in a way that does not, at any point, say words to the effect of 'I know it when I see it'" — which is itself very, very difficult don't get me wrong I'm not dismissing this — you are stuck with finding an appropriate footing between a spectrum of 'the US penal code' and 'don't be a dick' as your rubric. Going for the penal code side doesn't help nearly as much as you might expect with moderation consistency, either — no matter what, you will never have a 100% correct call rate. You have the impossible task of writing a rubric that is easy for users to comprehend, extremely clear for moderation and capable of cleanly defining what is and what isn't racist without relying on moderator judgement, something which you cannot trust when operating at scale.
Speaking of scale, it's time to move on to the third prong — and the last covered in this ramble, which is more of a brief overview than anything truly in-depth — which is resources. Moderation is not a magic wand, you can't conjure it out of nowhere: you need to spend an enormous amount of time, effort and money on building, training and equipping a moderation staff, even a volunteer one, and it is far, far from an instant process. Our most recent tranche of moderators spent several months in training and it will likely be some months more before they're fully comfortable in the role — and that's with a relatively robust bureaucracy and a number of highly experienced mentors supporting them, something that is not going to be available to a new moderation branch with little to no experience. Beyond that, there's the matter of sheer numbers.
Combining both moderation and arbitration — because for volunteer staff, pure moderation is in actuality less efficient in my eyes, for a variety of reasons beyond the scope of this post, but we'll treat it as if they're both just 'moderators' — SV presently has 34 dedicated moderation volunteers. SV hosts ~785 million words of creative writing.
AO3 hosts ~32 billion.
These are some very rough and simplified figures, but if you completely ignore all the usual problems of scaling manpower in a business (or pseudo-business), such as (but not limited to) geometrically increasing bureaucratic complexity and administrative burden, along with all the particular issues of volunteer moderation... AO3 would still need well over one thousand volunteer moderators to be able to match SV's moderator-to-creative-wordcount ratio.
Paid moderation, of course, you can get away with less — my estimate is that you could fully moderate SV with, at best, ~8 full-time moderators, still ignoring administrative burden above the level of team leader. This leaves AO3 only needing a much more modest ~350 moderators. At the US minimum wage of ~$15k p.a. — which is, in my eyes, deeply unethical to pay moderators as full-time moderation is an intensely gruelling role with extremely high rates of PTSD and other stress-related conditions — that is approximately ~$5.25m p.a. costs on moderator wages. Their average annual budget is a bit over $500k.
So, that's obviously not on the table, and we return to volunteer staffing. Which... let's examine that scenario and the questions it leaves us with, as our conclusion.
Let's say, through some miracle, AO3 succeeds in finding those hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of volunteer moderators. We'll even say none of them are malicious actors or sufficiently incompetent as to be indistinguishable, and that they manage to replicate something on the level of or superior to our moderation tooling near-instantly at no cost. We still have several questions to be answered:
How are you maintaining consistency? Have you managed to define racism to the point that moderator judgment no longer enters the equation? And to be clear, you cannot allow moderator judgment to be a significant decision maker at this scale, or you will end with absurd results.
How are you handling staff mental health? Some reading on the matter, to save me a lengthy and unrelated explanation of some of the steps involved in ensuring mental health for commercial-scale content moderators.
How are you handling your failures? No moderation in the world has ever succeeded in a 100% accuracy rate, what are you doing about that?
Using report-based discovery, how are you preventing 'report brigading', such as the theories surrounding Critics United mentioned above? It is a natural human response to take into account the amount and severity of feedback. While SV moderators are well trained on the matter, the rare times something is receiving enough reports to potentially be classified as a 'brigade' on that scale will nearly always be escalated to administration, something completely infeasible at (you're learning to hate this word, I'm sure) scale.
How are you communicating expectations to your user base? If you're relying on a flag-based system, your users' understanding of the rules is a critical facet of your moderation system — how have you managed to make them legible to a layman while still managing to somehow 'truly' define racism?
How are you managing over one thousand moderators? Like even beyond all the concerns with consistency, how are you keeping track of that many moving parts as a volunteer organisation without dozens or even hundreds of professional managers? I've ignored the scaling administrative burden up until now, but it has to be addressed in reality.
What are you doing to sweep through your archives? SV is more-or-less on-top of 'old' works as far as rule-breaking goes, with the occasional forgotten tidbit popping up every 18 months or so — and that's what we're extrapolating from. These thousand-plus moderators are mostly going to be addressing current or near-current content, are you going to spin up that many again to comb through the 32 billion words already posted?
I could go on for a fair bit here, but this has already stretched out to over two thousand words.
I think the people behind this movement have their hearts in the right place and the sentiment is laudable, but in practice it is simply 'won't someone think of the children' in a funny hat. It cannot be done.
Even if you could somehow meet the bare minimum thresholds, you are simply not going to manage a ruleset of sufficient clarity so as to prevent a much-worse repeat of the 2012 FF.net massacre, you are not going to be able to manage a moderation staff of that size and you are not going to be able to ensure a coherent understanding among all your users (we haven't managed that after nearly ten years and a much smaller and more engaged userbase). There's a serious number of other issues I haven't covered here as well, as this really is just an attempt at giving some insight into the sheer number of moving parts behind content moderation:  the movement wants off-site content to be policed which isn't so much its own barrel of fish as it is its own barrel of Cthulhu; AO3 is far from English-only and would in actuality need moderators for almost every language it supports — and most damning of all,  if Section 230 is wiped out by the Supreme Court  it is not unlikely that engaging in content moderation at all could simply see AO3 shut down.
As sucky as it seems, the current status quo really is the best situation possible. Sorry about that.
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81folklore · 7 months
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dress - SV5
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pairings: sebastian vettel x famous!reader (fc: taylor swift)
summary: its known that seb has been married for a few years now despite the public never seeing is wife, its also known that yn is in a committed relationship and has been since she disappeared from public eye. maybe they are more connected than people realise
authors note: i have had this idea on my mind for SO LONG so im very pleased to finally be writing it. essentially in this, yn is taylor and seb is joe but no one has ever seen him nor know his name, if that makes sense? honestly i have no clue how this will turn out but i needed to write it
authors note 2: this is set in the midnights era however i switched the songs a bit so ‘dress’ is on midnights instead of ‘sweet nothing’ and vice versa!! also ‘dress’ is going to be a single. i also apologize for how all over the place this is, especially the tweets
authors note 3: just pretend whatever says taylor swift says your name and the photos with her hands have a wedding ring!! i also got so confused when trying to screenshot the twitter stuff so the timeline ones are backwards
authors note 4??: haha didnt realise there was a 30 pic limit... pt 2 here :)
masterlist
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ynupdates
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liked by user3, user18 and 10,628 others
yn on her story today, possibly posting song lyrics! thoughts?
view comments
user3: NEW ERA INCOMING
user18: OH I AM SO READY FOR THIS
user13: NEW MUSIC NEW MUSIC
user66: is this hinting at her reputation era?
user13: i was just thinking this, more specifically the time just before reputation
user72: MUSIC ABOUT LOVER?? OH I AM SO HERE FOR IT
user55: if it is about lover and the time before reputation this will BREAK ME like,, HE SAW THE BEST IN HER EVEN IN HER WORST TIMES😭😭
yourusername
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liked by gracieabrams, ynupdates, olliebearman and 7,277,739 others
everyone thinks that they know us, but they know nothing about…
this album has been such a rewarding piece to create and im so glad that soon enough you will all be able to listen and enjoy it with me! one thing i love in particular about this album is the song ‘dress’
dress was originally a piece i started to write when making reputation however i felt it was right to keep it to myself, to keep it between my partner and i for a little while longer. however recently our lives have been changing for the better, and while that lid of privacy will still be on, i want to share more with you guys
you have all been on this journey with me and you have treated my partner and i with the upmost respect and for that i thank you. for me dress is a letter, its statement, its a declaration of my love for him and im very grateful to be able to give this to you all
this song is one im very proud of, i really enjoyed writing this the first time, and getting to revist and polish it up felt very special to do.
dress out now on all platforms🖤
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sebupdates
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liked by user34, user5, user88 and 23,683 others
seb in suzuka with the grid at his turn 2 bee (insect) hotels,, we've missed seeing him at the track :(
view comments
user3: of course the grid come together for him :’)
user5: im not crying!! just hay fever!!
user5: oh i have missed him SO MUCH
user7: NO BECAUSE YOU DONT GET IT HES BACK
user88: DID YOU GUYS SEE THE VIDEO OF HIM HUGGING CHARLES😭😭
user34: the way he was like a teacher throughout the whole thing😭
user18: does anyone know if hes staying the whole weekend or is it like monaco??
sebupdates: we believe hes staying the whole weekend but unsure if hes with a team or not!
user18: ok thank you :)
user77: the way the first thing lewis asked him was if his wife was okay, oh what if i cry😭😭
user66: im kind of new here, have the grid met sebs wife?
user77: i know they all at least know about her and know who she is, i dont think everyone has met her but i know lewis has met her quite a bit!!
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part 2!
1K notes · View notes
wonwoosthetic · 1 year
Note
Hi, I was wondering if I could get a Joel x reader pre - outbreak maybe they get in a fight and are giving each other the silent treatment .. I know it’s stupid sorry
Cold Brownies
pairing - pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x female!reader
word count - 6.9k (I got a bit carried away😅)
warnings - a bit of jealousy, fighting, mention of an age gap if you squint, and just a quick mention of smut but nothing explicit, but still very domestic and cute and fluffy ˙ᵕ˙
a/n: aaaaaah, my very first piece about Joel Miller hihi 🤗🫣 and your request was anything BUT stupid!!!! thank you so much for the request! 🤍🤍 I hope you enjoy it ˙ᵕ˙ I loved writing this soooo much, I'm such a sucker for domestic pre-outbreak!Joel😭
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2003
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“All I’m asking is that you could maybe tone it down a bit, alright?"
You were making your way to the front of the house, Sarah ahead of the two of you with the keys in her hands, ready to open the door, while you were hot on Joel's tracks.
“What- you want me to be rude to them?” He stopped to turn around and glare at you with confusion written across his face. In his right hand, he carried his daughter's bag from the football match you had just come home from, along with the football in his left hold.
“Jesus Christ, Joel!" You threw your hands up in the air in desperation, hoping to bring some sense into his head after noticing this discussion was not going where you had wanted it to go. "No, not rude! I just don’t need to see you all flirty and cute around the single mothers there!”
“They’re not single, Y/N!”
“That makes it even worse!”
With a huff, he turned back around to continue his way into the house. He threw the bag into the corner of the hallway before walking straight ahead past the living room to enter the kitchen. You followed him, closing the front door behind you with a sigh, shaking your head along with it. 
It had been evident to you that he wouldn't react to your complaint amazingly, but it was still something you had wanted to bring up after noticing the hungry looks of the women standing by the field. It hadn't been the first time today, and you knew it wouldn't be the last time. And you were tired of just being the side-chick of Joel Miller that would come along on Sundays to cheer on your daughter's football team during their match. Because that's what you felt like. His side-chick. Not his wife. At least not in the eyes of the other mothers.
The two of you were usually known for having little to no fights. You had always been good at communicating, but this time it just seemed to hit you a little deeper and a lot harder.
Once you had caught up with him, your eyes found Tommy sitting at the dining table, munching on what was left of your lunch. Sarah had stopped to stand by one of the chairs right next to him to start a conversation, but they were quickly interrupted by Joel and you.
While you stood in the dining room, your arms crossed, staring at his moving form, he poured himself a cup of probably already cold coffee. “Do you seriously have such little faith in me whenever you see me talking to another woman?” He squinted at you.
Your hands found their way to your hair, brushing it out of your face hastily as you tried to clear your head. “No, God… please, it’s not you that I don’t trust-“
“But those women?! Why?! They just want to talk!” At this point, Tommy and Sarah shared a quick glance, immediately recognizing they shouldn't be in the room with you anymore. They quickly stood up and rushed out, leaving you two in the heated argument that filled the room with anger and tension, as well as frustration and pleads.
You could feel your throat starting to close up, but you swallowed it down, hoping it would buy you some time before you would have to let loose of your emotions. “Because I used to be one of those women that ‘just wants to talk to you’!" You mocked his comment, "And look at where I am now!”
“You gotta be kidding me. You can’t have that little trust in others. OR in me.” Why he wasn't hearing you was still a mystery to you. He used to be so good at communicating.
“It's not that!" You argued, "I just know exactly what these women think of when they come up to you a-and don’t even acknowledge me standing next to you." The emotions started showing earlier than you would've liked to. You had to sniffle, catching Joel's attention as his head shot towards you. He sighed.
“They realise you’re right there, they talk to you just as much.” The man had lowered his voice, hoping a softer tone would make the situation easier. But it wasn't the volume of the discussion that was the problem.
You scuffed, “Yeah, to ask me how you’re doing and if you’ve gotten even more handsome over the last week.”
In any other situation, Joel would've smirked at your statement. Hell, you probably would've delivered it with a proud smirk, knowing exactly that yes, he would in fact get more good-looking with each week passing. You had been trying to convince him of his looks ever since you could remember, for a good four years that you had been together, but there was still a wall in front of him that wouldn't accept any compliment that easily. And that made you all that madder because it seemed like receiving complimenting words from the mothers back at the football field affected him more than yours ever did.
Joel clearly had enough of the scene you were playing out,
"This is getting ridiculous." He raised his hands in defence. “It’s alright, we can talk about this later," walking past you once again to walk into the living room, not finding his daughter nor his brother there, making him wonder where they had gone to.
“No, we can’t.” You fought back, following him with your eyes, only taking a few steps into the other room.
After throwing himself onto the cushioned sofa, he put the mug on the coffee table in front of him. With his hands now free, he was able to lean forward, his elbows resting on his knees he rubbed his eyes with his palms. “Y/N, I really can’t do this right now-“
“You don’t wanna talk about it?" You scoffed, "Fine. Then- Then let’s just not. You’re right. Let’s just pretend this never happened, and I’m overreacting because everything’s fucking fine.” Not wasting another second, you moved your body to the stairs leading to the upper floor.
“Darlin'-“
But you stopped him by shouting down.
“Everything’s fine!”
-
Everything was in fact not fine. And every single person in the Miller household could tell. 
The night before, you were able to avoid your partner most of the time. When Sarah had asked if you'd come to the dining table for dinner, you used work as an excuse to stay in the office corner your husband had built in the garage, sitting at the desk, deep in some documents that you could not concentrate on. Not even for a second.
Before Joel had made his way up to bed, you had already taken a shower and cuddled yourself up into the bed, hiding most of your body under the covers. You weren't asleep when he joined you. But you pretended to be. And it worked. For the entire night, the two of you didn't touch each other, not even with your feet by accident - maybe in your sleep, but how would you have been able to tell.
But still in the morning, while both of you were rushing through the kitchen, getting breakfast, coffee and orange juice ready, while also tugging on your clothing and fixing your hair, moving around the room frantically, you didn't share a word with each other. Not a single one. 
Sarah and Tommy eyed you suspiciously from their spots at the dining table. The uncle was slurping on his coffee while the girl had a piece of bacon in her mouth.
"Damn..." the man whispered, receiving a nod from his niece right next to him. "How long has this been going on for?" The silence was something highly unusual for this household. Joel and you were known to be a quite melodic couple. Filling early mornings with chatter and laughter while you tried to brighten up the older man's face, knowing he wasn't the biggest fan of that time of the day. But there you were. Silently moving around each other.
Sarah picked up some eggs with her fork, "Since yesterday. I don't think they've talked through their argument yet," before stuffing her mouth with it.
"You don't say," the man sent her a side-eye, going back to the hot liquid in his mug. "What do you call?" He leaned back.
The girl shrugged, "He did something wrong."
"Well, obviously," Tommy rolled his eyes, "but what?"
"I think it was something about him not realising he's being flirted with and just going along with it because he wants to be nice."
He scoffed, "Idiot..."
"Blind idiot," his niece corrected him, only to get told off by her father.
"Hey," he pointed at her, "Watch your mouth." He didn't have the energy to comment on the other words he had heard coming from them.
Before she was able to say something smart back at him, he continued, "Hurry up eating, I'll be outside in the car." And left the room through the backdoor leading to the garage without another word.
The moment he closed the door, you let out a deep sigh you had held in the entire time the two of you shared a kitchen.
"He'll come back to his senses," the voice of your step-daughter made you walk over to the table, taking a seat in front of your two family members.
The cup of tea in your hands warmed your palm. "I don't know..." you mumbled before bringing the mug up to your lips.
"He's just acting stubborn as fuck," Tommy shook his head.
Sarah gasped, "Don't curse, there are children here." Receiving a subtle chuckle from you.
For a second, you shared a quick moment of silence before you put the mug down, "But am I over-reacting?" You asked them, "Like... am I looking too much into this?" But the shake of their head assured you, making you lean back into the chair with a huff.
"You think I enjoy watching these women gawking over him? It's disgusting. You should be the only one allowed to do that," Sarah explained, tickling a smile out of you.
"Shouldn't you be disgusted by me doing that?"
But she just shrugged, "It's kinda cute," before looking you dead in the eyes, "But don't tell him that."
You chuckled, "I won't. It's not like we're talking to each other these days anyways."
"Look," Tommy had had enough, "Like Sarah said, once Joel gets that stick out of his ass-"
"I never said that."
"Whatever," he jokingly brushed her off, "Once that happens. He'll start apologising. Joel's always been a little oblivious about that stuff. You don’t remember how it was with you?"
"But how?" You wondered, "They're literally undressing him with their eyes!"
"EW, gross!" The young girl exclaimed, making you send her an apologetic smile,
"Sorry..."
"We were taught to be nice and respectful to all kinds of women, Y/N. I don't know what else to tell you," Tommy got up at the sound of his brother's car honking, tapping Sarah on the arm to copy his actions. You watched her disappear back upstairs to grab her backpack while you stood back up to start cleaning the mess that had been left behind from making breakfast.
When you were about to walk past Tommy, his soft grasp on her lower arm stopped you. You looked up to meet his eyes.
"Don't you dare even think that Joel would ever leave you for one of those chicks," he told you quietly, but sternly, "He knows you're way out of his league." His first statement made you smile fondly while the second one made you chuckle and slap his chest.
"Tommy!"
"I'm being serious, Y/N," his hand brushed over the back of your head. He took a few steps back, a smirk still plastered on his lips, "But hey, you know, I still have quite a good amount of friends that would DIE to get to know you."
"Stop it!" You looked around for a cloth to throw at him, doing so once you found a wet one right by the sink. He jumped back, letting it hit the floor, continuing his laughing as he walked towards the back door. "Just saying," he raised his hands, "My brother's an old fuck, you might want to relocate."
You could only shake your head in disbelief, "You're unbelievable, you know that?" Earning yourself a mischievous grin from the younger Miller brother.
You had known Tommy for longer than you had known Joel. You met him at a night out, hitting on one of your friends after you realised that that dude used to be the same guy that had given your parents multiple headaches with that friend group of his in their old restaurant. You remembered them tumbling in some late evenings when you helped out after school, or even just wanted to do your homework in a corner. They pretended to not be drunk, when they definitely were, as best as they could. As much as it annoyed you and your family back then, they did bring a lot of other young people in and within only a few months, you had more visitors than ever. The memory made both of you laugh out loud in the bar and your friendship developed from then on. He even tried setting you up with multiple of his so-called other friends 'that would DIE to get to know you'. But he had failed. HARD. Every single time. His friends were… just not it... 
That‘s because you had met his brother, and well... everything fell into place afterwards, leading to you now standing in the kitchen.
"What did you do now?" Sarah wondered, finding the piece of fabric on the floor, glancing at her uncle with her arms crossed.
You shook your head, "Nothing, don't worry about it. He's just trying to be funny."
She rolled her eyes overdramatically, "Ugh... again?" Getting a soft tap on the head from the man in question.
You sent them off with a smile and a goodbye wave, wishing both a good day as they left you alone in the house. All by yourself, along with your thoughts and worries and a good amount of chores to get done.
-
After Sarah had come back from school, you offered her a serving of the lunch you had prepared on your day off, giving yourself one as well. You sat together by the dining table, chatting about your day while listening to her ranting about her school and her teachers - her English teacher in particular. There was just something she didn't like about that guy.
Before you knew it, the evening had arrived as you got done hoovering the living room, letting yourself fall back into the couch with a heavy breath tumbling from your lips.
The argument from the day before had been haunting you the entire day, draining you of every last bit of energy you had left. You went over everything you had said and all the things you'd want to tell Joel once you were back on speaking terms. And yeah... about that too. How long could the two of you go without talking to each other? You never went longer than a day, so you already broke that record. In all honesty, you didn't want to drag it out for much longer. You hated it. As much as you were still annoyed at your husband and the oblivion he was in, the love and care you felt for him were much stronger than that.
Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the young girl coming down the stairs slowly. You only looked up at the sound of the stairs creaking underneath her feet.
"Mom?" She softly called out for you, staying behind the wall while searching for your eyes in the softly dimmed room. It had already gotten dark outside and the only light in the room came from the small lamp on the side table to your right.
"Hm?"
Sarah looked down at her feet, her fingers drawing circles on the wallpaper, "I-ehm... so..." you patiently waited for her to continue, "You know how we have bake sales every now and then at school?"
You scrunched your eyebrows at the random question, "Of course... why?"
Then a sheepish smile made its way to her face, "Weeelll..."
"Well?"
"I may or may not have a bake sale tomorrow morning and need something for it," she quickly spilt out, only daring to look up at the end of her statement.
Your hands immediately came up to hide your face, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose, "Sarah... please tell me you're kidding."
"No...," she hugged herself shyly, "Sorry..." Coming a few steps closer, she stopped next to you, joining you on the sofa, the sly grin still on her face.
You sighed, looking at her, "You know, you're gonna be the death of me, right?" But she just showed you her teeth with a wide smile.
"Well..." you collected your thoughts, "Your dad has the car... and if I go to the store now, it'll be closed when I arrive. So... let's see if Tommy can go get some stuff because we have absolutely nothing in this house." You leaned over to reach for your phone that was laying on top of the coffee table.
"No!" The girl beat you and got a hold of your phone first, holding it tightly to her chest.
You looked at her in confusion, "What?"
"Eh... I- Why uncle Tommy? Dad should be on his way back from work now. It'll be way more practical if he buys it."
With a sigh and a nod, you gave in, "Well then, go on. Call him." But she shook her head. Her hand reached out to hand you back the device.
"Why not?" You wondered, slightly worried about the way she was acting.
"...I don't want him to be mad at me." You wanted to say something, but she continued, "If you call him, he won't get mad."
"Sarah..." another sigh of yours rang through your ears as you blinked at her. But she defeated you. With those goddamn puppy eyes, she inherited from her father, that neither you nor Joel could say no to - you more than him usually, but you were in a vulnerable place, so giving in came easily.
"Pleeaase, mom." The small word still brought a smile to your face - she knew exactly how to get you. You may not have been there her entire life, but for a good important chunk of it, and she appreciated that very much. It was on your wedding day when she asked you if she could call you 'mom' from now on. And it made you cry right at that exact moment.
You snatched the phone out of her hands and shook your head with a soft smile on your lips. She knew just how cute she was. After all, she was a very smart little girl.
You got up from the sofa and made your way over to the kitchen, already clicking on the number you had gotten so familiar with. Only two rings later, the deep voice of your partner erupted,
"Hey, everything okay?" You almost smiled at the concern in his voice. He knew you rarely ever called but prefered to send quick texts.
You scratched the back of your neck, "Hi, yeah... ehm... where are you?"
"Just got into the truck, why?"
"So... Sarah just remembered that she has a bake sale tomorrow," you explained, already hearing the deep sigh, along with a cruse word, coming from him, "But I can't make it to the store in-"
"What do you wanna bake, darlin'? What do you need?" You didn't ignore the way your body reacted to the nickname. You couldn't just let it pass like that. Even after all the years of being with him, his sweet tongue still made you feel like a little college girl. The heat rose up to your cheeks, painting them beautifully red as you ushered around the kitchen.
"Eh... wait a second," you opened the refrigerator, "We have eggs, we... don't have butter, so butter. We should have some flour and sugar. But we'd definitely need chocolate or-"
"What about a brownie mix?"
You perked up, "You really want to send your daughter to a baking sale with brownies from a pre-made mix?"
"Why not," he probably shrugged, "I can guarantee you, sweetheart, no one cares," the engine of the car roared in the background.
Unknowingly, your eyes drifted over the counter to the corner where a picture of the three of you was placed. Taken by Tommy, it showed you and Joel hugging the sweet girl in the middle while her face was covered in cake frosting. It was your, back then, boyfriend's idea to make her laugh, and boy, did he accomplish that. The echoes of her high-pitched giggles still roamed your brain as you were brought back to the day of her birthday party when she had turned 11 years old. Already then, the older Miller brother knew he was going to ask you to marry him one day. Never ever had either one of you been that happy when with another person.
That's when the memory of his proposal speech came back to you. Joel was a big romantic. Whether he wanted to admit it or not. But his plans of the original proposal were thrown out the window when a massive storm surprised the entire city, forcing you to stay inside the comfort of your own home.
Since Sarah was over at Tommy's place after the older man had begged him to do so, you had the house to yourself and you better bet, you made the best out of it. After multiple rounds in each other's embrace, exchanging passion and lust for each other, you found yourself in your bed, on his lap, still not tired of kissing the hell out of him. You were surprised when he stopped you for a second with,
"I have something to ask you," whispering it against your mouth before he leaned back to stretch his arm to get whatever he was looking for out of the drawer of his nightstand. You eyed him suspiciously, your fingers still intertwined behind his neck. You could feel your heart genuinely stop for a second or two when your gaze got stuck on the small red velvet box.
"Joel..." The topic of marriage had come up before, of course. But only because he wanted to make sure that the two of you were on the same page, and after doing that, he just had to find the right time to find a ring and actually propose.
He lifted a hand to stop you, "Just wait. Just for a minute," interlocking your eyes with his as he breathed out, "I had this whole thing planned," he shook his head, "I wanted it to be much more romantic than this. But God... I-I can't wait anymore."
Once his actual speech started, you couldn't help the tears in your eyes to well up. You had heard him say 'I love you' so many times before, but that love confession of his was something you had never ever received before. You felt safe with him. Loved, like no one else. How could you have said no? You knew he was the one for you. The one whose arms you wanted to fall asleep in for the rest of your life, only to wake up in a completely different position due to his restless sleeping habit. You wanted to forever hear Sarah remind him of his terrible eating habits, joining forces with her by making him drink more orange juice. You didn't even think you could live without Tommy barging into the house at the most inconvenient times, disturbing any romantic moment you'd get with your partner. That was the future you so desperately prayed for. And now you were finally going to get it.
You snapped back into the present.
"Have we really become those parents?" A soft chuckle dared to escape your lips, but Joel stole it.
"It had to happen someday."
-
Forty minutes later, the front door opened, making you look up to the left, only to direct your eyes back on the TV as soon his met yours.
"Hey," he talked quietly, finding Sarah asleep in your lap as he passed you.
"Hi," you greeted him back, the tension suddenly thick in the room. You followed him into the kitchen, careful about putting your daughter's head down gently.
You stopped by the fridge, leaning on it, your gaze travelling along with his moving figure while he put away the groceries he had just bought. Even though you were still not in the mood of talking to him, the words from yesterday still lingering with you, you decided to swallow at least a little bit of your pride.
"Thank you," you cleared your throat softly, "for... getting the stuff." He turned his entire body to look at you, eyes slightly wider than usual, sending you a somewhat subtle surprised facial expression.
"‘Course," he nodded.
"Well then... I'll..." Jesus, when did talking become so hard, "I'll let Sarah know we can start."
Just as you were about to walk back into the living room, the voice of your husband took you back, "No, let her sleep."
You moved towards him, "But she needs them for tomorrow, we-"
"I'll do it. I'll make the brownies," he sighed, finishing putting everything away, and leaving the few ingredients he'd need on the counter.
"Joel, no... that's her responsibility," you ignored his body coming towards you as you tried not to raise your voice, keeping it low since the girl was still asleep. 
He placed his hands on your shoulders, only to turn you with a gentle touch, making you face the living room, attention immediately on the little girl. A few seconds of silence passed.
"Look at her," the man whispered into your ear, too close for the current tension that was still between you, "You really want to wake her up?"
You shrugged out of his grasp, "Don't make me the bad guy now," brushing past him into the kitchen.
Joel huffed out a deep breath, slightly shaking his head, "I'll get her upstairs." He didn't wait for a response from you, knowing he wouldn't get one anyway and walked over to pick his daughter up into his arms, carrying her upstairs into her bedroom.
In the meantime, you decided to get to work, reading the instructions on the brownie-mix packaging. You preheated the oven and made sure the eggs weren't too cold before looking for the fitting bowl, which wasn't where it was supposed to be. A sigh fell from your lips. Joel had a habit of putting stuff into new places and not where you had insisted they should be.
"In the cupboard next to the dishwasher," his deep voice suddenly spoke up from behind you, "I forgot where you usually put it."
With a quiet, almost silent 'thanks' you went to grab it before putting it next to the rest of the stuff. Joel was next to you within the blink of an eye, taking the bowl from your grasp.
"I can-"
"Let me," he softly argued back, bringing the eggs closer to him before starting by opening up the brownie mix and pouring the powder into the bowl.
"Joel-" you wanted to talk back, but his hand on top of yours on the counter stopped you,
"I wanna help," he gazed down at you, while you had to look up to meet his eye. It only lasted for a second, before you moved again, on the look for the next thing you'd need: a brownie baking dish. Thankfully, it was where you remembered you had put it.
The two of you worked separately from each other. You, just as much as Joel, were still very aware of the weight on both of your shoulders. The argument was still undiscussed and it was weighing you down. Both of you. The only interaction you shared was putting the baking tin in front of him to pour the batter in.
After you shoved it into the oven, with a quiet "careful" from your partner as he opened the oven door for you, there was no longer any sound that accompanied the silence between you two. Now it was just true stillness. No clinker, no whisk hitting the bowl, or anything else.
Neither one of you wanted to be in this position as you stood opposite of each other, each leaning back on the counter. You wanted to scream to break the tension. Thankfully, Joel took the lead.
"Darlin'," still that soft tone lacing his voice, "I'm-"
"No, Joel-"
"Please," he looked up at you, hoping to meet your eyes, only for you to find the same ones that had begged for you to call him your husband. The same puppy-eyed look. "May I?" He was so gentle, just how you knew him. You nodded, followed by crossing your arms in front of your stomach.
"I'm sorry." He spoke honestly, standing up straighter, "I'm sorry for what I said and... I'm sorry for being a blind idiot."
Your eyes fell down to your feet, running your toes along the wood as a smile crept its way onto your face at the mention of Sarah's choice of words.
"You're not an idiot," the sudden sound of your voice reaching his ear made him take a deep breath. You looked back up at him. "Maybe blind, but not an idiot."
But he shook his head, "No, I am." He started playing with his hands, "But can you blame me?" The scrunch of your eyebrows in confusion made him continue, "For four years, my eyes have only been on you. All I care about is you. And Sarah, of course," he added quickly, making you grin. He smiled at the sight, daring to take a step closer to you, noticing you warming up at his words, "I could not give less of a fuck about those other women. You're the only one that has been occupying my mind. I promise you that." They were small steps, but soon enough, he stopped right in front of you, keeping one foot between you two, and meeting your glassy eyes with his soft ones. "I haven't had to flirt with anyone in forever. How am I supposed to notice it then, when someone else is doing it to me? Especially, when it's not my wife. I don't care. I might continue being nice because that's just the human thing to do, but God... I..." he took a deep breath, taking that last step to be all that much closer to you. He trapped you in between his arms, resting his palms against the counter on either side of you. His left hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumbs gently moving against your skin. "I only have eyes for the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And I, the lucky bastard that I am, got to marry her." He caught the tear falling from your eye, leaning forward to kiss the wet stain before it could roll down your cheek. But his action just brought more tears into your eyes as your brain ran through the words you had just heard. You couldn't hold back a sniffle.
"Don't make me cry," you tried to free yourself from his grasp, bringing your hands to your face, trying to hide your weeping face from your husband, but he was having none of that, immediately getting a hold of your hands and pulling them down.
"I'm sorry, Gorgeous," Joel replaced your hands with his, wiping away every falling tear while gazing lovingly at you, catching your eyes never leaving his face.
You sniffled again, "I'm sorry, Joel." Both of his hands held onto your face. "I... I trust you with my life, I really do," you tried to speak through your tears, making the corners of his lips curl up, "B-But those women... at the match-"
"It's okay," he leaned forward once again, peppering your cheeks with gentle kisses over and over again, while a small smile appeared on your face at the feeling of his close touch again. "I get it," he kept on holding onto your face, making sure you kept your eyes on him, "I don't trust other men either. I know you're way too good for me. I'm a blind idiot that doesn't deserve you."
You started giggling as you hit his chest, "Stop, no," sniffling one last time when the tears had stopped falling from your eyes.
"No, I am. I realise that now," he assured you, shaking his head, "Jesus... I had to listen to Sarah calling me that like... a dozen times. And that was just on the way to school. Plus I got a big fat scolding from Tommy. He threatened to hook you up with his friends." Joel followed you with laughter after you erupted in giggles from his story, your forehead falling to his chest while your arms came up around his lower torso as his wrapped around your shoulders, keeping you to him as tightly as he possibly could, breathing in the beautiful scent of your hair.
You decided to enjoy a few moments of comfortable silence, staying engulfed in each other's arms before you leaned back a bit to lift your head, making him look down at you. The same smile on his face as it was present on yours.
"No one could ever replace you," you assured him. In the next moment, not giving your husband any time to react, you stood up on your tippy toes and puckered your lips, indicating for him to lean down, which he did without even thinking for a second. It was a natural reaction.
You only gifted him a quick peck before pulling back again.
"I love you, Joel." Followed by another quick kiss.
"I love you so much more, darlin'," he spoke against your lips, his finger tracing down the side of your face.
You squinted your eyes at him, "Mmmm... I don't think that's possible." Your comment made his eyebrows shoot up, "Oh?" He teased you, "You want me to show you that it is in fact possible?"
The not-so-subtle blush was evident on your cheeks as you pressed your lips together, "You know I'd never say no to getting dicked down."
Joel wanted to grin, SO BADLY. But he kept up his act, just staring down at you in confusion. "Getting dicked down? The hell you talkin' about, woman?" Unknowingly, the two of you started gently swaying side to side as he looked around the room, "I was thinkin' 'bout making you a nice dinner, a bit of cuddlin' maybe-"
You pinched his side, getting his attention back to you. He glanced at you with a wicked smile decorating his face. He leaned down closer to you, stopping just as your lips were about to touch, "But I can work with your idea as well.“
-
You were first down in the kitchen the following morning. Dressed and styled for work, with a pleased look never leaving your face. You felt good again. The invisible weight had clearly been lifted off you as you swiftly moved through the kitchen. The smell of pancakes filled the room when the cute familiar voice of your daughter made you turn around.
"Mornin'."
You smiled as she walked up to you, hugging your side, hiding her still sleepy face in your shoulder, "Good morning, sweetie," you patted her unruly, yet beautiful curly hair. 
She went to grab her beloved orange juice from the fridge before settling down at the dining table just like every other morning. Finally, a normal morning again. A comfortable small talk erupted between the two of you as you asked her about the school day she had ahead of herself.
In the middle of it, you brought a plate of pancakes to her, placing it right under her nose, along with a fork and the maple syrup she enjoyed so much. As soon as your back was turned towards her, eyes on the other pancakes sizzling in the pan, the third and final person in the house came down the stairs. You would be able to recognize those heavy footsteps from a mile away.
Joel greeted his daughter first, kissing the top of her head, "Mornin', baby girl." Before he joined you next to the stove, his arm immediately wrapping around you, to turn you towards him, "And a good mornin' to you too, gorgeous," smashing his lips onto yours. Your hand found its way to his cheek while his stopped at your ass.
"Children are present!" Making you lean back with a chuckle, slapping his hand to move from his position.
He turned around to jokingly glare at the girl, "Look away!" To which she just rolled her eyes.
Joel brought you back into his arms, giving you a few more kisses before getting interrupted another time, making him groan and you giggle.
"Oooooooh, well don't you two look adorable!" The younger Miller brother exclaimed, entering the house with a wide smile plastered on his face. He took his signature seat next to Sarah, stelling a piece of pancake from her, "Mom and dad getting along again?"
She nodded, "Looks like it."
Your husband wanted to get one more kiss from you, but a plate being shoved into his chest stopped him. He looked down before gazing into your eyes again, "Chocolate chip?"
"Blueberry." Your answer made him look at you with scrunched eyebrows. "Vitamin C," you grinned, giving his cheek one last peck before ushering him out of the kitchen.
You watched the three sitting at the table, smiling at the little family in front of you when you remembered something.
"Oh!" You moved back into the kitchen, snatching the Tupperware box from the counter, and bringing it into the dining room with you. "Here, sweetie, don't forget these."
"Ah, thanks, mom," she smiled at you, taking the box and placing it right next to her.
Tommy eyed the box, "What's that?"
"Brownies," you simply answered, taking a seat on the only other free chair, "We baked them for her last night."
"What are you celebrating?" His question was directed at his niece but you answered him.
"Nothing, her school's having a bake sale." Joel nudged your arm, his fork right in front of you, waiting for you to open your mouth, so he could feed you a piece of his pancakes. You knew better than to say no, remembering all the times you had tried to do that and he'd basically won and made you take the food in one way or another.
The younger brother glanced at you in question, "No, she doesn't?"
"Yes, she does, she forgot and told me yesterday."
But he just shook his head again, taking a quick look at his niece, "No, you don't. I know whenever those bake sales are." As soon as he saw the looks on your and Joel's faces, he quickly continued, "All the pretty teachers are outside during them, and I... you know... just happen to be there coincidentally. Buying them all that stuff from those kids."
You closed your eyes in disbelief, shaking your head, "Jesus..."
The older brother shrugged, "Can't say I'm surprised about that."
Tommy moved his attention towards Sarah again, "So what the heck were you talking about?"
All eyes were on the little girl, giggling in her seat as she leaned back in the chair, the curls on her head bouncing along with her laughs. "Yeah... so ehm... maybe that was a bit of a lie," sending you a sheepish smile.
"What?!" You exclaimed, switching between looking at her and your partner to your right.
She immediately raised her hands, "But you two are talking again!"
"What does that have to do-"
"OOOOOH," Tommy shot up from his seat, engulfing his niece in a tight hug, "You smart little girl, oh I love you," kissing the top of your head multiple times. All while Joel and you sat there, at least sharing the confusion between each other.
Your husband put his fork down, "Are we morons? What am I not getting here?"
His brother grinned at him, walking past him to slap the back of his head, "Your amazing daughter tricked the two of you into talking to each other again," he sang and stopped to stand in between the two of you, throwing his arms around you, pulling you in close, "She got all that smartness from me."
"Sarah!" You couldn't believe your ears. That little 13-year-old girl... you knew she was smart... but damn... Where did she learn how to read people that well?
She smiled, standing up to bring her plate into the kitchen, "It worked though!" 
Tommy released you to follow her, finally looking for his mug to get his morning cup of coffee.
The two of you stayed seated, still in disbelief at what you had just found out. You got tricked. Tricked you into putting your guard down and giving into the sweet mouth of your husband. She knows both of you too well.
"That's your kid," you pointed at the girl by the dishwasher while looking at Joel, who grinned at you, his hand now on your thigh.
His other hand wrapped around your finger, pushing it down and pulling you into him. "That's our kid. Our very smart kid," he smiled against your lips, making you do so as well before the soft touch of his mouth against yours sent a tingle through your body once again. You could never get tired of that, that was for sure.
There was the future you had always dreamed of.
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joel taglist: @corvusmorte
pedro taglist: @leslieelainetrask
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rs-hawk · 3 months
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I'd love to see more yeti or Bigfoot dragging their mate off to their cave in the woods
They're just slightly smart enough to communicate with gestures but not enough to understand why you'd want to leave
Y’all fr making me lose my mind with this asks. Love it
You decided to go hiking with a group of coworkers. It’s supposed to be a team building experience, but you don’t care about that. You’re just glad that you’ll get paid to be outside. It’s better than being trapped inside all day, listening to people you don’t care about complain about things you also don’t care about.
You started to get a bit ahead, nor caring about the gossip and taunting that your other coworkers are exchanging. Your one work friend pulled out last minute, making you wish you’d stayed home today. That feeling wouldn’t last for too long though.
As you followed the path, you lost sight of the group behind you when you looked back. While you felt relieved by that, you also wondered if that would mean you wouldn’t get paid since technically you weren’t apart of any of the “team building” and “morale strengthening” going on behind you. You pushed that thought from your mind and decided to keep going on. They were lucky you came at all. Surely no one would be so petty as to not pay you because you got excited and got a little ahead.
When you heard a branch breaking just off the path, you didn’t think too much of it. Someone probably just was catching up to you. However, when you heard thumping on the trees, a shiver went down your spine. You remembered your Dad telling you about Big Foot and how he always made himself known by banging on trees, and that horrid smell. Luckily you didn’t smell anything, so you pressed forward.
Again, you heard the branch breaking. This time you froze, looking towards the sound of the breaking branch. Just as soon as you saw the flash of brown fur, you were scooped up by it. A scream ripped from your throat as you were carried away from the trail faster than you could comprehend.
You were taken to a cave, where the creature set you on a bed of moss and leaves. It was soft at least. The creature that loomed over you was a stereotypical Big Foot, making your heart leap into your throat. He gestured for you to lay down, but you shook your head.
He frowned, gesturing again. You shook your head. “What? No. I need to leave.”
You pointed to the opening of the cave, but this time, the creature shook his head. He lightly pushed you onto your back, burying his furry face into the crock of your neck. The feeling of his tongue, lips and teeth on your neck drew out an involuntary moan from your lips. He took that as a sign of invitation, moving his large, furry hands down your body.
You jerked away, moving slightly closer to the mouth of the cave. He drew you back to him, now pinning you under him. His huge cock was already leaking precum, which he smeared against your jeans as he grinded against you. You couldn’t believe how soaking wet this thing was making you.
He tried to pull off your jeans, but was clearly confused and agitated. After a moment, you decided that this wasn’t real. It was just a dream, right? Big Foot isn’t real. What could it hurt to have a little fun?
You slipped off your jeans, and he groaned, back to grinding his leaking cock against you. The tip of his cock pushed your panties into you, obviously not understanding the barrier at first. Just as you’re about to pull them off, instead, he ripped them off. Within a second, he slammed his giant cock inside of you. That mix of pain and pleasure made you realize that this wasn’t a dream. It was real. But you were too cock drunk to care at this point.
The furry creature abused your poor dripping cunt merciless. He bit and nipped at your neck, leaving deep bruises all over your neck and throat. His fat cock stretched you out with every thrust, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. You knew that if he was to cum in you that there was no way that you wouldn’t get pregnant. It was basically in your womb with every thrust. Again though, you couldn’t bring yourself to care too much.
Big Foot groaned and grunted, sounding animalistic and feral as he used your poor human cunt. He flipped you over, shoving your face into the moss so he could reach deeper into you. This drew tears from you as you gripped the moss. Tears ran down your face as your eyes rolled back into your head. Your cunt was wrapped around him, drawing him in deeper. You wanted to beg for him to keep going just like that because you were so close, but you couldn’t get any words out. Instead you just moaned and whined, pushing back against him.
Finally, as you felt him pulsing inside of him, so close to cumming, you clenched down around him. Your orgasm finally flowed, making you choke out a sob into the moss. Your mind was fuzzy. Your cunt was throbbing excitedly. He moaned loudly at the feeling of you clenched around him, and that was all it took for him to release inside of you.
His cum filled you up, extending your stomach, rounding it out. It gave you a precursor to what your stomach would soon look like, round with his child.
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ktgoodmorning · 1 month
Text
Silent Communications
(love language series- physical touch)
Mapi Leon x Reader
Inspired by the love language physical touch- The team doesn't know you and Mapi are dating and you struggle to keep it hidden throughout your away game travels
Words of affirmation felt too obvious of a choice for the Mapi fic. I swear that eventually I will manage to write something shorter and less fluffy but today is not that day. Anyways, I'd love any feedback or requests any one has, my inbox is always open.
The rest of the love language series:
Perfect. A.Bonmati x reader. Quality time.
Let me spoil you. C.Coll x reader. Giving and receiving gifts.
Broken. P.Guijarro. Acts of service.
You know I love you. A.Putellas. Words of Affirmation
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Masterlist
The team was unaware of your relationship with Mapi. Everyone knew you had been best friends for most of your lives and attributed your closeness to that. They knew you tended to be touchy and cuddly together but still never thought much of it because the two of you had always been that way. It also helped your case being Spanish. They were completely unaware that your relationship had turned romantic. They’d occasionally tease you for your closeness, but it didn’t bother you. You knew they meant no harm and often you were willing to join in joking.
Eight months ago, you and your best friend confessed your feelings for each other. Growing up together, you had only become closer as you got older. It didn’t surprise you. From the time you were a teenager, you knew your feelings for Mapi were different. For a while you couldn’t pinpoint why, it wasn’t until teammates would tease you about how you were “basically dating” that you realized it was true. Or at least you wanted it to be true. You learned to ignore those feelings, trying to preserve your friendship. It was more important to you to keep her close than to act on your feelings. However things changed when you had caught on that she might be feeling the same way. You’d catch her staring at you, looking at you differently than she used to. She’d always be doing little things to help you out- bringing you coffee, carrying your bag for you, buying you dinner. There were little touches here and there that just felt different. It was always small things but felt so big. 
The longer you noticed your best friend acting this way, the more it drove you crazy. One day when you were out to breakfast with Alexia, you decided to get her opinion on the matter. You were tired of trying to ignore your feelings. She knew Mapi just as well as you did, and you knew she’d be honest with you. When you asked her if she thought there was any chance of Mapi sharing your feelings, the older woman looked at you like you were crazy. “Isn’t it obvious?” she said. “I thought you already knew, that girl’s crazy about you.” 
From then on, your world changed. You left your breakfast date with Alexia to go straight to Mapi’s house- a place that was basically your second home. The two of you had a long conversation, spilling your hearts out to each other. You discussed what you wanted to do, how to move forward. Ultimately you had both decided you wanted to try dating but planned to take things slow, making sure you weren’t doing anything that could risk your friendship in the process. 
Things couldn’t have gone better. Your friendship transitioned seamlessly into dating. It was better than either of you could have imagined (and you both spent plenty of time imagining it). In the last eight months, you continued to grow closer in ways you hadn’t even known possible and were happier than you had ever been before. 
You had decided not to tell anyone about your relationship. It just seemed easier that way. If people knew about your growing romance you’d have to deal with the media, the criticism of teammates dating, the fans, and any outside opinions that didn’t matter to you. Neither of you wanted any of that, you just wanted each other. You didn’t intend to keep it a secret for this long but somewhere along the way you became accustomed to it and it just felt easier than breaking the news.
 A few of your closest friends, as well as each of your families, knew but that was it. It felt like it was only fair to tell Alexia since she had been the one to confirm Mapi’s feelings. Other than her, Patri and Pina were the only other ones on the team to know about your relationship. Before you had gotten better at sneaking around, they had walked in on you mid-makeout session on the middle of your couch. You had forgotten they were even coming over when you and Mapi had gotten a bit distracted. It’s safe to say, after that happened the pair of you were much more careful. Even though it wasn’t part of the plan, it was helpful having the three of them clued in. The group of five spent a fair amount of time together so not having to hide around them gave you a chance to relax. 
Typically, you and Mapi were good at sneaking around. Because of how close you had been prior to dating, nobody questioned most of the things you did. As long as you weren’t outwardly kissing or saying anything too cheesy, nobody thought much of it. The only time things became harder was when you were traveling as a team. When you traveled, unless you got roomed together, there was no solace of coming back together when training was over and getting to spend time with just the two of you. It was almost harder when you were around each other so much yet never in the way you wanted. 
~
You had been stuck on the bus far longer than you would've liked. Sometimes you were excited to join the other younger players, playing games and turning the bus ride into a social event. Today wasn't one of those days.  You weren’t sure where it was you were even going to be playing, you just knew you were exhausted and cranky. You took a seat by yourself in the front, not really interacting with anyone. Mapi was with the much louder group having fun in the back. She could tell you were tired and wanted to give you some space to sleep. She also knew you enough to know that if you were in a bad mood you were going to be clingy and she didn’t want to accidentally let everyone in on your secret. When there was a lull in conversation, Lucy questioned your girlfriend, giving her a suggestive look, “Mapi, where’s your partner in crime? We don’t usually see you two apart.” It was clear Lucy was teasing but also was genuinely curious as to why you weren’t hanging out with them. 
“She’s just taking a nap, probably trying to get away from you, idiota,” Mapi rolled her eyes, trying to cover up that she too was a bit concerned about you. It was unusual for you to isolate yourself. She sent you a quick text to check in with you but when she got no response, she decided she needed to come check on you herself. 
When the defender stood up, she knew more quips were coming her way. “Ooooh Mapi? Gotta go check on your girlfriend?” The way Mariona sing-songed this made it clear she was joking but Mapi still couldn’t help but panic. She awkwardly laughed and turned away from the other girls, hoping to hide her blush. Patri and Pina shared a quick look as they knew the comment from Mariona would leave their friend panicking. They did everything they could to hold in their giggling while Alexia glared at them, hoping to make them stop. Nobody else seemed to notice this as they went back to their karaoke and left Mapi alone to join you. 
You felt someone sit in the seat next to you, immediately recognizing the scent as your girlfriend. Your eyes were shut, trying to sleep, but failing. The side of her leg pressed up against yours and she gently placed her hand on your knee. It was clear to her that you weren’t asleep because of how much you were moving around, trying to get comfortable. “Hey,” she spoke gently, rubbing her thumb against your knee to get your attention. You slowly opened your eyes and Mapi greeted you with a soft smile. “You okay? You don’t seem like yourself.” she spoke softly, voice full of worry. 
You nodded, “yeah, just tired. I didn’t sleep very well last night so I was hoping to sleep on the bus.” You rubbed at your eyes, starting to accept that it wasn’t going to happen. 
“Here I’ll stay with you,” you couldn’t help but be grateful at the offer. 
Still, you tried to protest, “Maps, no. Go have fun with your friends, I know you like to keep busy on the bus. I’ll be okay.” 
The look on your girlfriend’s face made it clear she’d be staying by your side, “Hmm no thanks. We’ll put some headphones on, you can snuggle up against me, it’ll be great. It’ll put you to sleep in no time,” the way she spoke made it clear it was a statement, not a question. It’s not like you would complain, it did sound pretty great. She took your silence as agreement and pulled out her headphones, passing one to you. By the time you had put it in, she had put on a playlist that the two of you had made together. Her arm wrapped around you so you could place your head on her shoulder and use her as a pillow. You couldn’t believe how quickly you fell asleep. Mapi had that effect on you, always putting you at ease. 
At some point, your girlfriend had also drifted off. You woke up, still snuggled into her, with her head resting on top of yours, her one arm still around you, and her free hand interlocking yours. This was by far the most comfortable you’d ever been on the bus. You carefully grabbed your phone so as to not wake up Mapi. You had some texts in your group chat with you, Mapi, Alexia, Patri, and Pina. First was a picture from Patri taken from the back of the bus where you could see the tops of your heads lying against each other, you shared earphones hanging between you. It was followed by a text from Pina, “better be careful if you want everyone to keep thinking you’re ‘just friends’ ;) “. You smiled to yourself, knowing she was right, but being too happy right now to care. All you could do was close your eyes and drift back to sleep.
When you eventually got to your hotel and got off the bus, the two of you seemed to be the hot topic of discussion. Everyone was teasing you, first for Mapi giving up her precious social time for you, then for how closely the two of you had cuddled up, and finally for the way your hands remained interlocked as Mapi led you off the bus and into the hotel lobby. 
The only downside to Alexia knowing about your relationship was that she knew better than to let you two be roommates on trips like this. You were paired up with Bruna which you really couldn’t complain about, and Mapi got paired with Mariona. With neither of your roommates knowing about your relationship, finding time alone together was about to get much more difficult. 
~
At breakfast the next morning, you went to sit down next to your girlfriend. She stood up to greet you with a hug and a soft kiss on the top of your head. It was likely a bit too long of a hug to be considered friendly but somehow no one commented. Alexia just shook her head, smirking to herself at how obvious you were being. Sitting down at their table, you tried to leave space between you while you ate so as to not raise suspicion, but you should’ve known that it wouldn’t work. Mapi always had to have a hand on you in some way. It was usually subtle, but it sure didn’t make hiding things any easier. You appreciated it though. You liked how she could be talking to anyone and you still knew she was thinking of you. That’s what was happening now as she settled into conversation with Alexia. The silent communication between your touches was better than any words could express. 
Your next chance you got to be together wasn’t until after training, back at the hotel. Patri and Pina invited you both to come hang out in their room with them. That’s how you found yourself, laying against Mapi’s chest while she and Patri played FIFA. Her arms wrapped around you tightly while she held her controller in front of you. “Ay, (y/n), did you only come over so you could have time to be all cuddly without the rest of the team around?” Pina quipped at you while you both continued to watch the game, she was somehow both joking and also entirely serious. 
Before you could respond, your girlfriend spoke up for you, “hey just be happy this is all we’re doing. We could be making out right now if we wanted to.” She somehow managed to hold you tightly while still playing a close game with Patri. You giggled at how she kept moving under you the more involved in the game she got. “Amor sit still! You’re blocking the screen!” Mapi whined at you, only making you giggle more at how quickly her tone changed. You ended up moving further down to cuddle into her leg so that she could still see. She shot you a glance to make sure you knew she wasn’t actually annoyed with you but relaxed when she saw your soft smile. “Comfortable?” she chuckled lightly at how you burrowed into the side of her leg. 
“Did you really have to ask, amor?” you smiled at her before turning back to watch the game she was playing. 
All of the sudden you heard the sound of the door opening, making you jump. However when you saw Alexia’s blonde hair round the corner, you quickly relaxed again. “Ooh the lovebirds are here, are you guys just here so you can makeout?” She shot you a smile knowing that you two would always spare them from seeing you be too handsy.
You rolled your eyes playfully at your captain, “you guys always say that but we’ve really only made out in front of you once and it wasn’t even on purpose. And you weren’t even there, Ale!” You sat up a little more so you could see her face. 
“Gracias a Dios!” the blonde shot back at you, mirroring your smile. 
Deciding to have some fun with this while also taking advantage of this limited time to show affection, you decided to try something. “You know, Ale, if you wanted us to be like that, all you had to do was ask. We sure can…” As you said this, you moved back up in Mapi’s lap and started to slowly leave kisses along the side of her neck. You didn’t want to distract her too much from her game but you also knew how much she’d be enjoying it. Plus you loved a chance to annoy your friends. This time, it was Alexia who started the retching noises. You felt your girlfriend tilt her head to the side to give you more room to continue down her throat, clearly having fun with this. Pina quickly joined in the sound effects when she saw that you weren’t planning on stopping. Finally Patri wanted to know what was going on and took a quick look over at you. Of course she had no choice but to join her friends in their shouting. 
What you hadn’t planned on was that the whole scene had distracted Patri just enough to allow your girlfriend the opening she needed to win their game. “Yes!! I won!” You broke apart from her throat as she suddenly shouted. The two of you high fived and shared a real kiss in celebration of your unplanned teamwork. Everyone else in the room just groaned at the two of you, Patri flopping back onto her bed, cursing in Spanish in protest of her loss. You just settled back into Mapi, sharing a couple more short pecks as you did so. 
~
The next day was your match. When you did your morning walk as a team, nobody seemed to notice the way you and Mapi had linked pinky fingers as you went. You wanted to be close and to spend it with her but you knew that holding hands on your team walk would be too much. The pinkies worked perfectly because nobody else could see it past the long sleeves of your jackets. 
The match didn’t go as easily as everyone hoped it would. The score was tied 1-1. Barcelona had been winning most of the game but around minute 75, the other team equalized and both teams had been fighting hard for a winning goal ever since. Exhausted was an understatement. You and Mapi were both starters and were in the entire game. All that was on your mind was scoring. You had to. It was 2 minutes into injury time when Aitana made eye contact with you. She was running the ball up the field and you could tell exactly what her plan was as she did so. She slotted the ball through three defenders and directly to your feet. With one touch you sent the ball sailing past the keeper and into the back of the net. The crowd erupted and before you even had time to process, Mapi had run straight to you, beating everyone else as they all headed your way. Immediately Mapi scooped you into her arms, picking you up as she hugged you in celebration. You knew your other teammates had also surrounded you, but to you, it felt like just you and your girlfriend, alone in the middle of the pitch. She continued to hold you up, kissing your cheeks repeatedly. Your other teammates almost got bored of trying to celebrate you because of how much Mapi was keeping you to herself as the game wrapped up. You all made your way around the pitch to thank the fans, while your girl kept you at arms reach, overwhelmed with pride for you. 
The two of you were the last ones to enter the changing room, walking hand in hand pulled into her side. Lucy noticed this immediately and couldn’t help but comment, “Jesus, Mapi are you ever gonna share her with us?” You could already see your girlfriend starting to blush as you made eye contact. “Do we get to celebrate with her at all tonight or is she all yours?” The rest of the room laughed and added their own comments but you and Mapi were lost in each other’s stare, having a silent conversation among yourselves. 
You gave her hand a tight squeeze, encouraging her to do what you knew you were both thinking. “Alright you caught us,” the defendender sighed, “we’ve been dating for almost eight months now.” You held up your joined hands as if it were proof to show everyone (not that anyone needed it at this point). The room immediately interrupted into cheers. Of course it did, everyone knew how perfect you were for each other. If you had been best friends almost your entire lives, of course you’d make a great couple too. You and Mapi just smiled at each other, giving her hand another squeeze, trying to communicate that this was the right move. You didn’t even notice everyone around you until you were tackled into a group hug with you two at the center of it. It was exactly where you wanted to be- holding onto your girlfriend tight while all your best friends piled in around you, celebrating your love. It was everything you could ever imagine. Mapi was everything you could ever imagine.
The rest of the love language series:
Perfect. A.Bonmati x reader. Quality time.
Let me spoil you. C.Coll x reader. Giving and receiving gifts.
Broken. P.Guijarro. Acts of service.
You know I love you. A.Putellas. Words of Affirmation
Masterlist
Feedback and requests are always welcome! :)
492 notes · View notes
kentopedia · 7 months
Text
seeds of doubt
ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor
summary — you don't feel like you’re good enough for them
contents — they comfort you when you’re feeling insecure about your relationship, sfw !!
notes — my other dazai wip is taking a while, so i decided to finish this one! i started it a few wks ago but since i’ve been feeling a lil down lately, i decided it was time for a comfort piece!
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₊˚⊹♡ DAZAI
when you'd come home from work that evening, dazai had already known something was wrong. your usually bright smile didn't quite reach your eyes, your shoulders slumping the moment you crossed the threshold of your home.
dazai hadn't pushed you, but he had drawn you up tight in his arms, held you close when you breathed heavily into his shoulder, releasing all the tension in your body. his fingertips were soothing along your neck, massaging small, relaxing circles.
for the past hour, though it was nearing dinnertime, you'd found yourself buried in blankets, so warmly entangled with him, even when all of your hypercritical thoughts threatened to chill you to the core.
dazai spoke to you softly, asking you questions about your day for a while, ones that you refused to answer. you kept your eyes glued to the screen, watching mindlessly as a movie played, one that neither of you were paying any attention to.
that continued on for as long as he could stand it.
finally, with a sigh, dazai paused the film. he shifted, turning so that you were both face to face, his long limbs twisting around your own. limbs that were always so solid and warm, despite the iciness of his hands.
"kunikida told me what you said."
hesitantly, you stared back with wide eyes, jaw clenching. already, you knew what dazai was talking about. it was something that you'd told kunikida in confidence, because of all the members of the agency, you'd been certain that he was the least likely to spill your true feelings.
you stared back at him blankly, your shoulders stiffening. "hm? we talked a lot today. i'm not sure i know—"
though you pretended not to remember, dazai didn't let you run away from the question.
his lips fell into a frown, unamused. he drew your name out on an exhale, before running his palm over your cheek, across your chin, dipping his fingers into your hair. "don't bother. he's already mad enough at himself for telling me, but he hated how upset you were about it."
"osamu," you began. "i don't—"
"why did you tell him that you think you're not good enough for me?"
the seriousness in his deep brown eyes was so different than his usual playfulness, and you almost withdrew from them, curving deeper into yourself.
though, alongside the stoicism of his expression was something so melancholy, you found yourself offering your unfiltered emotions instead.
a long pause ensued. you breathed.
"because it's true," you finally whispered, your words wispy. "i'm not good enough for you, osamu." you swallowed when his face fell even further. "you're so smart, so handsome. you make me laugh all the time." your eyes grew hot as you felt tears at the edges of them. "i'm so plain compared to you."
"plain?" he repeated back, so wildly upset that you found yourself at a loss for words. "how can you say that, any of that, when i'm the one that's not good enough for you?"
despite yourself, you cracked a smile at his overzealous need to change the narrative. "don't say that just to make me feel better.”
"i'm not.” he frowned, his lips puckering as he held your cheeks, elongating each of the letters. "you're beautiful. inside and out. in a way that i can never be." he kissed the tip of your nose, smiling as you swatting him away. "i'm certainly not funny to everyone, either. i make you laugh only because i love you, and i want to see you smile." he kissed you between the eyebrows, then, this time laughing when the skin wrinkled there. "and i'm smart because i have to be, because i don't want to see the people i care about get hurt if i can do something to stop it." his expression softened at your glossy eyes, the way you slowly melted under his touch.
you let the words sink in, each one slowly chipping away at the doubt that had clouded you. dazai had never looked at you with anything but adoration in his eyes, something he spared for you and you alone, even when you felt unworthy of it.
"you could have anyone you wanted, osamu,” you said, the honest truth twisting something deep within you. “anyone at all.”
"funny," he said, tilting his head as he studied you carefully. "i've always thought the same thing about you."
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₊˚⊹♡ CHUUYA
“i’m home,” you heard chuuya shout down the hall. he was always careful to alert you of his presence every time he returned, never wanting you to fear that his enemies had found his home, leaving you vulnerable.
you sniffed, some form of acknowledgement as you swirled the alcohol in the glass, pouring it down your throat. it burned on the way down, a buzz already at the edge of your mind, your thoughts slowing as you it sank into your bloodstream.
chuuya didn’t say anything more as he came into the room, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his hat and coat. there was a healed cut running down his left arm, a cluster of bruises on his left.
even though he’d gone on a dangerous mission earlier, he’d come home relatively unscathed.
despite your endless relief, it only did more to fuel your insecurities, the knowledge that compared to all his infinite glory, you were a lackluster, powerless no one.
you poured another glass, unbeknownst to the fact that chuuya was speaking to you at all.
“what?” you turned, the word slurring; you weren’t even sure what set of syllables had left your lips at all.
chuuya made a face as your head plopped down on the table, your eyes red from the tears you'd expelled. “is something wrong? it’s a little early for this, isn’t it?”
you stared at him, and though he was amused, you turned away, feeling the sour emotion of doubt lodge deep in your chest. “no,” you said in a small voice, turning away from chuuya.
he paused for a moment, his expression sobering before he took the seat next to you. chuuya held out a gloved hand, one that you could only see from your peripheral vision. “you expect me to believe that?”
“nothing’s wrong, chuuya,” you muttered, as sharply as you could in your current state. your arm grew numb under the weight of your head, throat sore from your earlier sobs. “i’m fine.”
chuuya sighed and took the bottle from you. even as you protested, every inch of his expression was so caring and delicate.
“that’s how i know you’re not fine.” he ran a hand over your hair, flattening it as you looked up at him from under wet eyelashes. “please tell me what’s wrong. i don’t like to see you sad, baby.”
though you wanted desperately to keep your mouth shut, you were too drunk to hold in the words. you leaned into his touch, letting the tears roll down your cheeks once more as panic grew in chuuya's eyes.
“i just think you deserve someone better than me, chuuya."
his brow wrinkled, and he blinked twice before shaking his head, puzzled. “what?”
you buried your head further into your forearms, unable to look at him any longer. despite your embarrassment, your lips didn't stop moving, releasing every little secret you'd bottled up since you'd met him
“you deserve someone you don’t have to worry about every time you’re away." you swallowed. "i’m not strong like you, chuuya, i don’t have any special ability that can save me from enemies." you thought of all the people he worked with, all of the ability users in the city that could compliment him so perfectly. "someone out there is a perfect match for you… i just don't think it's me.” you looked back at him, with teary, red eyes, right into his own sullen ones.
he scoffed, but his expression was gentle, open, fingers curling delicately around your wrist. "well, you're certainly wrong about that."
you curled yourself into a ball, resisting him, looking down at his knees instead of his eyes.
“none of that matters to me. i love you just the way you are. even if you were the strongest in the whole world, i'd still do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
you rubbed your cheeks, frowning as chuuya began reeling you in, grabbing you by the wrist to tug you onto his lap. “chuuya..." you said, hesitating as he planted you on his thighs, lips pulled tight in complete sincerity as he spoke his next words.
“i don’t care about anyone else. they could have all the power in the world, and it wouldn’t matter because they wouldn’t be you." he held you steady, one hand on your hip as he let the other caress your cheek gently. "i'll never want anyone else, okay?"
you nodded, though the sadness didn't dispel so easily from your face.
chuuya sighed, offering you as much of a smile as he could, even though he knew it wouldn't be a magic solution to cheer you up. "i'll remind you every day if i have to."
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₊˚⊹♡ FYODOR
your hands curled in the water, tracing patterns throughout the soap and bubbles as your thoughts consumed you. it was just after midnight, but you'd woken up alone in your bed, full of thoughts that seemed determined to convince you that you'd never be enough.
though you'd gotten better at dispelling those dismal emotions, they dug their claws in deep this time. you'd crawled out of the cold sheets and drawn yourself a bath, hopeful that it would clear your mind.
fyodor had disappeared, and you weren't sure if he was in another room or if he had left your home completely.
it was quiet, but that told you little; he was always so silent, sneaking up on you with footsteps that never made a sound.
the door creaked open not a moment later, as if he had heard your thoughts. you didn't look over at him, but he sat beside the tub, his slender fingers curling over the porcelain.
"is everything alright?" he asked, his voice soft in the dim bathroom, illuminated only by candles and moonlight. "it's late."
you hummed, and contemplated voicing your thoughts at all. but you were half asleep, drowsy, and it didn't seem to matter what you said. the feelings would still be there, whether you voiced them or not.
still, you hesitated. "am i enough for you?"
you spared him a glance, and his eyes were wide, surprised by your simple question. a brief pause, before he answered, almost gently. "have i made you feel that you are not?"
you leaned your head against the edge of the tub, staring at the ceiling, the cracks in the paint, the uneven texture.
"i sometimes wonder if i'm just a hindrance to your plans." you breathed, thoughtful as he waited for you to finish. "i feel that maybe you'd be better off without me."
fyodor said nothing as you laid in the water, the temperature dropping with each passing minute. quietly, he discarded his clothes, keeping his eyes on you as he climbed into the tub to sit across from you.
he whispered your name once, but you remained silent, breathing in and out, trying to calm your mind.
"would you look at me?” fyodor asked, and the softness in his words was enough.
you sat up, pulling your legs closer to make space for him, even though he held your calf, drew himself towards you instead.
"you know that i do not make decisions lightly, and yet, i decided to share my heart and soul with you." he caressed your knee before letting his hand fall into the water, tracing patterns around your shin. you shivered. "do you really think i would have devoted my time to you if i ever intended on letting you go? if i didn't need you?"
"i know." you frowned, fully aware that it was true, to the deepest part of your soul. still, there was an ache in your mind, one that wouldn’t just go away with his pretty words. "but i can't help the way i sometimes feel."
fyodor smiled, his eyes crinkling ever so slightly at the corners. "i know," he said, and when he had you close, he dipped his head to kiss your bare shoulder. "but you do not need to hide that from me. i am here for you, always." he squeezed your hand. "i apologize if i am not always the best at showing that."
his touch was cold in the exposed bathroom air. "and when you achieve your goals, what will become of me? will you dispose of me, along with everyone else who stops being of used to you?"
"of course not." a laugh escaped him, like your question was unfathomable. "even then, you will be right by my side." he held your jaw tenderly as he forced you to look deep into his eyes. "you are mine forever, don't you understand? just as i am yours.”
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dash is a teensy bit dead rn, but i want to let this one go so i can focus on my other wips <3. this was so nice to write though :))
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hadesrise · 1 year
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𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥.
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summary ➳ harry noticed you’re not like any other slytherin
pairings ➳ harry james potter x male reader
warnings ➳ fluff, mutual pining, foul language, reader being an adorable slytherin, touch-deprived harry, just the chosen one thirsting over reader lmao, mentions of making out, soft!slytherin reader, pet names ( darling, love )
author’s note ➳ rewatching harry potter made me recall the time when i used to fantasize about two persons from supposedly rival houses falling for each other and saying “fuck it” to their rivalry before making out. yes, it's typical, but i like it just the way it is.
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Of all the houses in Hogwarts, it’s well known that Slytherin is the most disliked one due to their personality that doesn’t seem to include kindness regardless of how others treat them. This might have only been a stereotype that students from other houses pushed on Slytherin, but they had a very reasonable excuse for thinking of Slytherins that way because of a particular blonde haired snake and his goons that terrorize anyone and everyone they come across. Not only that, but most people from Slytherin are unpleasant to say the least and Harry can only name a few who aren’t, like Professor Slughorn for example.
So, understandably, Harry thought you’re going to be as unpleasant as other Slytherins too after Hermione accidentally bumped into you and dropped her books to scatter all over the ground. The Golden trio were walking down the hallway leading towards Hagrid’s hut, talking to one another about how Professor Trelawney freaked out again today at Divination, with Hermione carrying books more heavier than usual (the two boys offered to carry them but she refused), before they turned a corner and she collided on a rather hard chest.
She was going to apologize, but her eyes — in sync with Harry’s and Ron’s — landed on the green colored tie with silver stripes, and the blood immediately drained from her face. It’s not like she can’t defend herself, considering she sucker punched Malfoy on the third year, but dealing with a bunch of snakes can be really exhausting sometimes and frankly, she isn’t in the mood to fight with them today.
Without a word, Hermione crouches down to pick up her books. Much to their surprise, the Slytherin knelt down to help her gather the heavier and thicker books Ron and Harry were about to pick up.
When they finally made an effort to look at the unusual Slytherin Hermione bumped into, Harry was surprised to see a very good looking and attractive boy with (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes that seemed to spark under the light. Despite the books being heavy, you carried it easily as if they have the weight of a feather, placing another book on top of them — Harry figured you were reading it before the disaster struck.
“Are these books from Hagrid?”
The Chosen One felt his stomach fill with butterflies and heart suddenly beat rapidly at the sound of your soothing voice.
He was so used to Slytherins having that obnoxiously annoying voice, where he doesn’t know whether to cover his ears or rip them away from the sides of his head. But your voice was, even with a tone deeper than average, smooth and gentle. There was no hint of venom, distaste, unpleasantness, or despise. Just curiosity and interest. Harry also noticed you called Hagrid by his name rather than the awful big oaf other Slytherins call him all the time.
“Oh, uhm... Yes.” It took a while for Hermione to overcome the surprise and provide an answer.
“Interesting,” You hummed quietly. “I should drop by Hagrid and burrow some of his books too. He must have the book of Ancient Magical Creatures.” Muttering to yourself, the Golden trio couldn’t help but crack a smile when you seem to forget for a split second that you weren’t alone.
Gathering some courage, Harry decides to break your little bubble by hesitantly speaking. “Er — excuse me?”
“Yes?” You turn to look and catch his emerald eyes.
“You can come with us if you want. We don’t mind.”
A tiny bit of smile forms on your lips, almost unnoticeable. “With pleasure. Though, I don’t suppose it’s alright for Gryffindors to walk around with Slytherin.” You glanced around, “Some of the people from your house doesn’t tolerate their fellow Gryffindor hanging out with the rival house.”
“I think you’re okay,” Ron says reluctantly.
“If you say so.” Amusement flashes across your eyes. “Also, I’ll carry these books instead.” You didn’t let Hermione protest as you began to walk nonchalantly towards Hagrid’s hut with a slight delay to your steps; Harry figured you were purposely walking slower than your normal pace so it would be easy to walk with your shoulders lining with theirs.
You introduced yourself to them after successfully burrowing a book from Hagrid that you were searching for.
Ever since then, Harry would find himself scanning every classroom he’s in to look for you, taking mental notes of the similar classes you have together, and if you’re nowhere to be seen, he would just attempt to at least catch a glimpse of you in the Great Hall by the Slytherin table. Sometimes, when he’s fortunate enough, your eyes would meet his across the hall and you would give him the faintest of smile before returning to your meal. Other times, when the both of you are free, you would talk with each other for a while until the next class comes.
Spending his time with you made Harry notice things — such as how you’re mostly quiet, which isn’t very common in Slytherin; their loud voices being very distinguishable in the Great Hall explains that. You’re also a bit of a bookworm as he often sees you carrying or reading them around, it made him wonder why you weren’t placed in Ravenclaw, but he suppose being interested in books doesn’t automatically make someone a Ravenclaw. He also noticed the way your facial expression rarely shows rapid or strong emotions, mostly expressing boredom to anyone and anything around you, if not, your face just remains emotionless with a what Harry knew was called resting bitch face. Though, your wonderful eyes do spark seemingly brighter when you’re with him.
Another brilliant thing is finding out you don’t tolerate any of Malfoy’s bullshit.
You seem to disagree with everything the blonde says, which leads to Malfoy spitting some nasty insults in attempt to get under your skin, only to cower away when you raise a brow at him paired with deadly calm expression, which is much scarier than anything in Harry’s opinion. You were definitely not like any other Slytherin he’s ever met.
“Ron, getting a detention at potions isn’t a good reason to set Professor Snape’s office on fire!” Hermione hissed.
“But ‘ermione, he’s horrible!” Retorts Ron and turns to his best friend to plead, “Back me up here, mate!”
However, he doesn’t receive a response as Harry was too busy ogling at a particular someone by the Slytherin’s table, his hand not moving from the parchment that began to be soaked in black ink due to his quill being pressed on it. Ron and Hermione looked at each other questioningly and followed Harry’s gaze, their eyes landing on you eating quietly while ignoring the chaos members from your house were bringing. You almost looked peaceful despite surrounded by loud chattering, laughter, and the clinks of utensils against the plate.
Your patience isn’t high; you often get annoyed easily, but the way you’re unbothered no matter what’s happening around you made it seem like your patience was limitless.
Hermione rolled her eyes after realizing Harry was waiting for you to notice and rolls up the parchment she had before whacking the back of his head with it, successfully snapping him out of his daydream. “What do you think’s gonna happen if you just stare at (Y/n)?”
The Chosen One cleared his throat, taking a glance at you and quickly returning it to his best friends. “What am I supposed to do then? I can’t just walk up to him in front of other Slytherins.”
“I’d rather see you do anything than ogle at him everyday and act like an idiot.” She sighs exasperatedly.
For a boy who survived the Killing Curse and Voldemort’s multiple serious death threats, he was one hell of an annoying dork when it comes to love. He was painfully obvious with his growing crush towards you, even other Gryffindors had begun to suspect it, yet haven’t done anything to change the relationship you two have — sure, it can be called friendship, but Hermione and almost all of their friends could agree it is more than that. They couldn’t honestly contain their frustration at Harry being content with just this.
“It’s no use, Hermione.” Ron whispered when Harry went back to ogling at you. “He says he’s not going to do anything about it unless he’s sure there’s a chance.”
Sighing, the bushy haired girl shakes her head and slumped on her seat defeatedly.
How long do they have to deal with a lovesick Harry?
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Searching around the school grounds, Harry finally found you reading by the Black Lake, not caring that your robe might get dirty as you sat on the ground and read another book. It was a windy day that sent calm energy throughout your body, the rustling of leaves and the sound of lake soothing you more than usual, allowing you to focus more on the context of your book. You loved the silence where no voices or other noises can be heard, just the sound of nature slipping into your ears.
Harry slowly approached as to not startle you, but felt himself relax after you pay him no mind and sat down beside where you are. The sky seems brighter than he remembers, with only small particles of cloud littered all around.
“Are you feeling well?” You asked without looking up from your book, and Harry hugs his knees to his chest, watching the wind cause waves of water on the lake.
“Better now that I found you.” The seemingly flirtatious sentence was uttered in complete sincerity and seriousness that even Harry himself didn’t expect. The tip of his ears turned bright red in increasing embarrassment as you snapped your eyes to him, seeing an adorable blush spread rapidly across his cheeks, avoiding eye contact with you at all costs.
You hum, slamming the book shut. Harry was now staring straight ahead at the lake, as if there was something interesting in it, making amusement appear on your usually expressionless face. “Look at you blushing, Potter. So adorable.” You whispered the last part, almost teasingly, and he blushes even more.
“Well, you’re adorable as well.” Harry dares meeting your eyes. His heart bangs even more loudly in his chest after seeing the almost loving look in them, finding himself admiring you.
All playfulness leaves your face as you stare into each other’s eyes with a mirroring hint of adoration. You shift to lean back on one of your hand while the other rise to brush a hair out of Harry’s forehead, before cupping his cheek, admiring the way his emerald eyes sparked under the warm sunlight. This is your first time seeing his face close and having the time to focus on his features more; you knew Harry was attractive the moment you set eyes on him, but you realized he looked almost ethereal at this point, making your heart flutter.
“Your eyes are really captivating,” You muttered, barely audible but reached Harry’s ears nonetheless.
He chuckled breathlessly, “I got it from my mum.”
“She must’ve been such a wonderful woman then.”
Your thumb gently rubbed his cheek and Harry couldn’t help but lean to your touch and close his eyes. He’s been touch-deprived for long, being touched with care and gentleness made him weak in the knees easily. A coo escape from your lips; an unlikely sound for Slytherin to make. Before Harry could process what was happening, you had set aside your book and pulled him to your lap, settling him between your legs. Harry blinks, surprised.
“I’m seriously soft for you, Potter. Too adorable.” You sigh, burying your hand through his dark locks and softly scratching his scalp.
Getting over his initial shock, Harry relaxed and made himself comfortable, letting his body rest against yours as he laid his head on your chest. It worried him that you might hear his rapidly beating heart, but honestly couldn’t bring himself to care when you were being so generous, holding him, playing with his hair. If others were to see you and him like this, they would certainly assume it’s the end of the world for two rival houses to be cuddly with each other when they usually spit hatred.
Though, after meeting you, Harry had begun to believe not all Slytherins are bad — it’s just that people, including himself, unfairly stereotyped them as a bunch of evil-doers only because of the choices that older people from Slytherin made in the past, which the young Slytherins are definitely not in control of. There are questionable Slytherins like Malfoy and his goons, but they’re not a reason for others to start generalizing that all students from the snake house is evil.
Slowly and albeit hesitantly, Harry wraps his arms around your back and nuzzles your chest. You’re absolutely different from other Slytherin members, but he still found it odd that a Slytherin is this nice and affectionate, especially when you’re usually quiet and socially distant, preferring to be alone with slightest bit of annoyance directed at your fellow housemates.
Closing his eyes as sleepiness start to fall over his eyelids, the Chosen One wondered why you’re only doing this with and to him. He’s never seen you with anyone before, and when he did, you always maintained clear distance from them, as if they held contagious disease. It made him feel special in any way, but also confused.
“(Y/n)?”
His sleepy voice make you chuckle softly. “Hmm?”
“Why are you so affectionate with me?”
Your hand playing with his hair abruptly stops, and for a second Harry thought he made a mistake of mentioning it. However, relief floods him when you went back to massaging his scalp. “Isn’t it obvious, Potter?”
He shakes his head. Don’t want to assume.
Silence falls as you stop your hand again. Curiosity of your expression plaguing his mind, Harry opens his eyes and looks up without moving from his laying position — his breath almost stopping when he came across a very loving gaze staring at him like he was the entire universe. His heart swell as heat rushes to his cheeks. He attempted to hide his face by burying it on your chest, but you held him still, hand cupping his cheek once again.
You don’t even give him time to react before you captured his lips on yours, practically stealing Harry’s breath away. Just a gentle kiss on the lips, but enough to make his brain fuzzy.
Pulling away before he could reciprocate, you smiled. Not a forced one, but genuine and coming from the bottom of your heart. “Does that answer your question, Harry?”
Despite the fluttering of his heart and the urge to jump up and down in pure joy, Harry pouts. “Not enough.”
You chuckled. “I need to be persuasive then.”
Needless to say, you both missed the next class making out by the Black Lake and not caring about getting caught.
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Ron and Hermione were freaked out. The reason lies with Harry, who’s been in an awfully good mood the entire day to the point even Malfoy can’t get through him and he began noticing some good qualities in some of the Slytherin members. Don’t get them wrong, Harry being in a good mood is great because the boy deserves a day without constantly fighting for his life and feeling like everyone’s against him, but attempting to find the good qualities even in Malfoy? That’s when the two gets really concerned.
When lunch break comes around, Harry was still in a brilliant mood, smiling to himself because of whatever merlin knows. Ron and Hermione shares a look as they continue to eat, observing their best friend who began to look for you in the Slytherin table, his smile immediately widening after he sees you.
Hermione turns around just in time for you to look up from the foods and meet Harry’s eyes. Unexpectedly, a soft smile appears on your lips as you wave at him, not caring when your housemates see it. Harry chuckled, waving back, before you returned to eating your food in silence. The three of them witnessed Malfoy mutter something that caused you to roll your eyes and smack the back of his head with the book you were reading before.
“So,” Ron began after he and Hermione looked back at Harry. “Is there something you’re not telling us, ‘arry?”
The said boy only raised his eyebrows, unable to contain his grin.
“Come on, Harry!” Hermione urged.
Before anyone could respond, however, someone took a seat on the empty space beside Harry — turning their heads, they were surprised to see you there.
“Hello, love.” Harry almost melted at the pet name. You gave his best friends a polite smile, “Excuse him from your conversation for a moment, Hermione, Ron.”
“Of course, go ahead.” Neither of them could honestly deny a polite Slytherin no matter how much they want to.
“What is it?” Harry questioned, more than welcome to talk with you. However, you seem to have a different idea in mind as you leaned in without a word and captured his lips in a lingering kiss, hearing gasps erupt from multiple places — mainly Ron, Hermione, any Gryffindor who were wondering why a Slytherin paid Harry Potter a visit, Malfoy, his goons, and some other Slytherins who just happened to catch the moment. Few students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had their mouths open in shock as well.
There was a smug look on your face when you pulled away, smirking at Malfoy who was previously babbling some nonsense that you couldn’t possibly like Potter and are probably just using him. By the looks of it, you had succeeded in proving the blonde ferret wrong.
“What was that for?” Harry asked breathlessly. You caught him off guard.
“Oh, nothing. Just proving to gits that Gryffindor and Slytherin are sometimes compatible if it’s with the right person.” You shrugged, resting an elbow on the table and putting your chin on the palm of your hand. “In short, I wanted to prove people wrong who says we can’t be together since you’re a Gryffindor as I am a Slytherin.”
“Wait, someone told you that?”
“Rumors of us being seen making out by the Black Lake travels fast,” You sipped on Harry’s pumpkin juice, which he didn’t mind even the slightest as he blushed, avoiding Ron’s and Hermione’s wide and intrigued eyes. “One little bird from Ravenclaw thought it’d be wise to practically squeal it in the hallways that the rumor’s impossible because of our houses rivalry.”
You snort, “As if we give a fuck about that.”
For the first time, Harry actually saw the Slytherin in you.
And he wasn’t going to complain, not when you’re not like any other.
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© ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴅᴇsʀɪsᴇ. sᴛᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪᴢɪɴɢ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏɴᴇᴛᴀʀʏ ɢᴀɪɴ ɪs sᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ ᴘʀᴏʜɪʙɪᴛᴇᴅ. ᴀsᴋ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ.
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edenesth · 1 month
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TWTHH Spinoff: Take Me Away [1]
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Pairing: private investigator!Wooyoung x courtesan!reader
AU: historical au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 5k
Trigger Warnings: forced prostitution
Summary: While working on a new case in town, Wooyoung was captivated when he stumbled upon a beauty unlike any other. Just as he began to believe that he might have found a Lady Park of his own, word got out that she was merely the newest courtesan at the town's brothel. Disheartened by this revelation, he nearly abandons his pursuit of her until he hears whispers suggesting that she may not have been there of her own will.
A/N: As stated in the title, this is a spinoff. If you have yet to check out the main story, it's probably better to read that before starting this.
Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 2
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"If you're just going to hide in the corner and not even attempt to attract potential clients, then make yourself useful and collect my new hair accessories from this shop," commanded Iseul, one of the more senior courtesans, as she handed you an invoice listing her orders for specific designs.
Rather than protesting or attempting to evade the task as she had anticipated, you enthusiastically agreed, "Of course, unnie!" before taking the document from her and dashing out of the brothel.
"Thank heavens. Anything to escape that dreadful place," you whispered to yourself, clutching the parchment close to your chest. You were relieved to be away from the hellhole that was supposed to be your new home, even if only for a bit.
Instead of keeping an eye out for the shop whose name and address were stated on the invoice, all you could concentrate on was the sight of ordinary people living their lives freely. You remembered once dreading the idea of having to marry out of obligation once you reached a certain age, but now you would gladly choose that life over this one. At least then, you would only belong to one man instead of any man willing to pay for your company or... services now.
Had you known a week ago how drastically your life would change, you would have run away from home much sooner. You should have done it earlier, if only it weren't for your tender, foolish heart that still felt sorry for your deadbeat father. He had done nothing but drink and gamble away all the money you earned from washing dishes at a nearby food stall. And all of that just for him to sell you off to a brothel when he realised he had no money left to pay off his debts.
A week before today, he stumbled home reeking of alcohol and vomit after being gone all night. He moved to drag you to your feet while you were tidying up the shabby little home you had grown up in, his tight grasp tearing a hole in the thin, worn hanbok clinging to your frail frame. You struggled against his hold, crying out, "What in god's name are you doing, father?! Let me go!"
Confused about his intentions, as he typically treated you as if you were invisible and only approached you when he needed money, you received no response. He dragged you toward the entrance and threw you out, causing you to land roughly on the ground.
As you gazed at the expensive fabric before you, you looked up to see a well-dressed woman with heavy makeup smirking down at you, "You'll do just fine. Thank you, Mr. Han. We accept your payment. I hope you're comfortable with never seeing her again, unless you decide to pay the Mansion of Midnight a visit, of course."
Your heart stopped in recognition of the name. The Mansion of Midnight—the notorious brothel that had haunted your nightmares since you were old enough to understand its existence.
You couldn't believe it.
Refused to believe it.
How could your father do this to you? How could he sell his own daughter to such a place just to pay off his debts?
Anger and disbelief surged within you as you struggled to process the enormity of his betrayal. Tears welled up in your eyes as you fought against the overwhelming sense abandonment. Clutching the torn fabric of your hanbok, you felt a profound sense of loss and despair. This wasn't the life you had imagined for yourself, and yet here you were, thrust into a nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape.
Turning to look at him, you knew all hope was gone when you found him waving his hand dismissively in response to the woman you now recognised as the brothel madam, "Whatever, so long as this means my debts are cleared. Just take her and go."
His callous words pierced through you like a knife, confirming what you had feared deep down. There would be no rescue, no redemption in his eyes. He was willing to sacrifice you without a second thought, all for the sake of his own selfish reasons.
Disgust and rage bubbled up inside you as you stared at him, unable to comprehend how a father could abandon his own flesh and blood in such a manner. The man you once hoped would someday change for the better was now nothing more than a heartless stranger.
I guess I'm the fool for staying.
With a heavy heart, you turned away from him, silently vowing to never forgive him for his betrayal. In that moment, you knew you were alone in this world, left to fend for yourself in a cruel and unforgiving reality. But despite the overwhelming despair that threatened to consume you, you refused to give up hope. You would find a way to survive, to reclaim your dignity and freedom.
Now, trapped in this place, you cursed yourself for even pitying him when you should have abandoned him, just like your mother did when you were merely a child. She left him for someone who could offer her a better life, one with no room for you. She left you with this sorry excuse of a man. Sometimes, you wonder why they bothered bringing you into this world in the first place, just for you to endure a life filled with so much unhappiness.
Lost in thought and unaware of your surroundings, a startled gasp escaped your lips as your shoulder bumped into another man's, causing the parchment in your hand to slip to the ground along with a few items belonging to him, "Oh dear, I'm terribly sorry! I should have been more attentive. Here, let me help you gather your belongings," you apologised hastily, scrambling to collect his things while he did the same. Your movements paused when he accidentally grabbed your hand as you both reached for the same item.
"It's fine, my lady. Let me take care of it—"
As you lifted your heads to meet each other's gaze, your breath caught in your throat upon making eye contact. While you internally chuckled with a mixture of disbelief and sadness, realising how romantic this first encounter with this good-looking stranger could have potentially been if only you were an ordinary girl, he was too captivated by your beauty to utter a word.
So beautiful.
As Wooyoung took in the stunning lady before him, his heart skipped a beat. After encountering a woman as beautiful as Lady Park, he had almost resigned himself to the idea that he wouldn't find anyone more gorgeous. Yet, today, he found hope as he marvelled at you.
Judging from your initial reaction upon bumping into him, you were clearly not some rich little spoiled brat. There was a genuineness about you, a humility that spoke volumes to him.
Now, he just had to put his investigator skills to good use; find out who you were, which house you hailed from, and whether you were betrothed to another. If all went according to plan, he envisioned courting you, and perhaps, finally experiencing what it was like to have the kind of connection General Park and his wife shared—a love that transcended time and circumstance.
With determination in his heart, Wooyoung made a mental note to uncover the identity of this intriguing woman. You were a rare gem amidst the chaos of this world, and he was determined to unravel the mystery surrounding you.
As his gaze lingered on you, self-consciousness crept in. What if he was seeing through your identity? What if he knew the kind of job you were meant to be doing? The thought made you uneasy. Was that why he couldn't take his eyes off you? Perhaps it was his first time seeing a courtesan up close?
He could be disgusted for all you knew.
Blinking rapidly, you pulled your hand away and hurriedly stood up. Without giving him another chance to speak, you bowed deeply and politely excused yourself. You could still feel his intense stare burning into your back as you ran off, eager to get away from him for fear of his potential reaction when he realised what you were.
Tears of frustration blurred your vision as you struggled to focus on finding the damn shop you were meant to visit. Your heart felt heavy with hopelessness, knowing that thanks to your father, your life would never be the same. It was ruined now, irreversibly altered by his selfish actions.
Even if you were to somehow make your escape from this nightmare, your reputation would forever be tainted by this part of your history. There was no way you'd be able to hide the truth from anyone—the truth that you were once a courtesan at the Mansion of Midnight. The thought filled you with despair. No one would ever be able to accept you, nobody decent ever would.
Each step felt like a burden as you trudged along the unfamiliar streets. The world seemed bleak and unforgiving, with no glimmer of hope on the horizon. You felt utterly alone, with nowhere to turn and no one to confide in.
Help. Somebody, please help me.
Watching the mysterious, beautiful stranger he had encountered run off in the opposite direction, the investigator felt his heart pound in his chest. He tried to commit the image of your angelic features to memory, already excited to learn more about you.
For once, after completing his last assignment at the general's estate, he felt a glimmer of hope. Seonghwa had dismissed not only him but also Yunho and Hongjoong as soon as his grand wedding ceremony in the palace ended, expressing his desire for some alone time with his beloved wife. It seemed like everyone was moving on with their lives; the last Wooyoung had heard, the physician had returned to his clinic, and the dressmaker had resumed operations at his shop, both happy to grant the couple their much-needed honeymoon.
Except for him.
He had missed the thrill of working for the great General Park. While he loved his job, no other cases could ever compare to the adrenaline rush of working for his role model. Besides, that wasn't the only perk; he also had the opportunity to see the beautiful Lady Park nearly every day. He had been feeling bored, merely going through the motions with his current case until now.
His passion for investigating was reignited.
Screw his current case; it wasn't that important anyway. He had been hired by some wealthy old noblewoman to investigate whether her husband was cheating on her. It was while he was tailing the sleazy old man that he found himself in this part of town. But it looked like his new employer's case would have to take a back seat for now. Perhaps he should thank the old couple; otherwise, he wouldn't have stumbled upon his new dream girl today.
Yes, his new dream girl, because until just moments ago, that position had been occupied by Seonghwa's wife. Luckily for him, the general never discovered his tiny crush on her; otherwise, leaving the estate unscathed might have proven difficult. Jongho and Hongjoong had graciously kept his secret, for which he felt eternal gratitude. For his sake, he sincerely hoped the two would carry this secret to their graves. After all, he now has a new goddess to worship.
Without wasting a moment, Wooyoung immediately approached the people around him who had witnessed his accidental collision with you. Although most shook their heads, claiming they didn't recognise you, he tried not to be discouraged. With his skills, he knew he could gather all the information he needed in no time.
That night, he returned home and sketched the enchanting features he still vividly remembered before going to bed. His mind buzzed with the possibilities of who you could be. The following day, he planned to inquire again, armed with the drawing he had created. As the famous investigator Jung Wooyoung, he believed there was nothing he couldn't find if he set his mind to it. And now, he was investing even his heart into it.
The next morning, he rose extra early, having barely slept as endless thoughts of the mysterious beauty consumed his dreams throughout the night. He hastily devoured the breakfast prepared by his servants, bid his parents goodbye, and rushed out of his family estate toward that part of town once again. Eager to learn more about you immediately, he clutched the drawing tightly in his hand, feeling a glimmer of hope.
As he questioned people with the help of his sketch, some claimed to have seen you around but didn't know enough about you to provide further details. Nonetheless, it was a promising start. Surely, as he ventured closer to where you first emerged the day before, he would come across people who knew you.
True enough, it didn't take long for him to find someone who recognised the sweet face from his drawing. The middle-aged man smirked as he glanced at the parchment in Wooyoung's hands, "She's quite the beauty, isn't she? That, right there, is the newest recruit at the Mansion of Midnight."
"The Mansion of Midnight...?"
"Yes, it's the most well-known brothel in town, young man. Don't tell me you haven't heard of it? I suppose your young age explains it. Most of the patrons are older men, but I expected you would at least have heard of it. If you're looking for a future wife, she might not be the one for you. Beautiful as she is, she's merely a courtesan. Go find yourself a proper lady, son."
Disappointment crashed over him like a wave, his heart plummeting at the revelation. A courtesan...? All his idealistic fantasies of courting you shattered in an instant. He should have realised it was too good to be true. How could he have thought he found his own Lady Park so easily? With a heavy heart, he stuffed the piece of paper back into his pocket and trudged away, head bowed in shame. What would his parents or friends think if they knew he had been foolish enough to pursue a worker from a brothel?
Determined to rid his mind of thoughts of you, he committed himself to refocusing on his current case. In the following days, he threw himself into his work, seeking distraction like a heartbroken man. He constantly reminded himself that it was irrational to feel such strong emotions for someone he barely knew. Deep down, he knew that his infatuation was only with an idealised version of you, and not the actual you. Yet, despite this awareness, he still struggled to let go.
With a sigh, he scolded himself for letting thoughts of you distract him again while tailing his employer's husband. Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus on the task at hand—to observe the old man's interactions and track his movements. His heart sank as he realised the intimidating building his target eagerly approached. Numerous women, adorned in heavy makeup and revealing hanboks, lingered near the entrance, attempting to attract potential clients. The words 'Mansion of Midnight' adorned a large sign in the centre of the establishment, with red curtains billowing out from open windows of various rooms on the upper floors.
Of course, it had to be here.
Suddenly, a dreadful thought struck him.
He shuddered at the possibility of you being the company his target had been seeking all along. The mere idea felt repulsive—a vision of that old man with his hands all over your delicate form. He turned to leave, no longer willing to entertain such sickening scenarios involving you. At least the case was closed. He had obtained the answers his employer sought; her husband had been frequenting the brothel. Whether or not that constituted cheating would be for her to decide. He was finished and wanted to put as much distance between himself and this place as possible.
As he tried to leave the area, his steps faltered when he overheard a conversation between a stall owner and their customer, "Have you heard about the new courtesan at the Mansion of Midnight? I heard the poor thing is there against her will, that's why she always looks so sad. Apparently, her father sold her to settle his debts—"
That was all he needed to hear before a pang of regret pierced his heart. Why hadn't he investigated more thoroughly? Why had he given up on you so easily? If that were true, you must have been terrified. The idea of your own father doing this to you made his blood boil. Suddenly, he found himself understanding General Park's fury towards the former Minister Jang all too well.
Useless son of a—
A sudden wave of protectiveness engulfed him as he felt the urgent need to rescue you. Acting on impulse, he swiftly turned around and sprinted back toward the brothel. It wasn't until he reached the establishment again that he realised he lacked a plan. What was his next move after discovering your actual situation?
Think, Jung Wooyoung, think!
Before he could even formulate a plan, one of the courtesans approached him, her demeanour dripping with seduction. She pressed her chest against his side, trailing a seductive finger across his chest. Her mouth watered at the thought of entertaining such a young and dashing man after dealing with disgusting old men for so long, "Hello there, handsome. Would you like to spend a little time with us? Have some fun? Here at the Mansion of Midnight, we provide only the best services," she purred, winking at him. He struggled to push her off without appearing too rude, feeling incredibly uncomfortable with her touchiness.
"I-I... yes, I'd like to spend some time with the newest courtesan here, please," he stuttered, managing to free himself from her grasp.
With a scoff, she crossed her arms over her chest in disbelief, "You mean Miss Han? Why? Just because she's new? She's been here for a week and is still a virgin. I assure you, experienced courtesans like myself would know better how to satisfy you."
As she attempted to promote herself further, an older woman who appeared to be in charge intervened, glaring at her, "Enough, Iseul. What did I say about respecting our client's wishes? It's not you he wants. Accept it and move along," she reprimanded. Turning to Wooyoung, the brothel madam grinned, "So, you'd like to request Miss Han, hm? I understand. She's around your age and is still pure. If I were you, she might be the only one I'd want too. Tell me, how long would you like to spend with her? An hour or two?"
"I want her to myself for the rest of the day."
"Miss Han, you fortunate little thing! Congratulations on securing your very first client. This dashing young man seems utterly smitten by you, to have reserved your company for the entire evening."
You tightly clenched your trembling fists to your chest, suppressing a terrified whimper as you listened to the brothel madam's devious teasing. You had prayed fervently that nobody would request your services, doing everything you could to remain inconspicuous over the past week, hoping they might see you as more suitable for hard labour; you'd much rather be the lowest servant than do any of this.
Yet, here you were, already with your first client, and not just any client—this man had gone as far as to secure your companionship for the entire day. Such occurrences were rare, even for the most sought-after courtesans in this establishment. You couldn't fathom who this person might be, how he had learned of you, and why he'd spend so much to buy your time.
"Wh-who is it? This customer..."
"Wouldn't you like to know? It's none other than the famous private investigator Jung Wooyoung, known for his significant role in aiding General Park's capture of former Minister Jang. I suppose even men with a strong sense of justice are still susceptible to desire," The sly woman drawled, winking at you, "Don't disappoint us, girl. A client of his calibre could become a valuable long-term patron. Treat him well."
In anticipation of this highly significant new client, they went to great lengths to prepare you. After informing you of the news, the brothel madam called upon a team of staff to bathe you and dress you in a seemingly brand-new hanbok. It was almost as revealing as the ones worn daily by Iseul and the other popular courtesans. Usually, newer girls like yourself were given hand-me-down hanboks that were less appealing, given your status. However, this didn't alleviate the pressure you were feeling; if anything, it intensified, knowing how valuable this client must be.
God, why? Why me, of all people?
You should have known that all men were alike. No matter how noble or upright they might seem, they were ultimately driven by temptation. At the end of the day, they all desired the same thing. You could only hope that he would at least go easy on you. Your heart raced in your chest as you sat on the bed in the room assigned to you and him for the night, waiting for him.
To steady your trembling hands, you balled them into fists, feeling your nails dig into the skin of your palm with such force that you were certain they would break soon. Just as you were about to sink deeper into your endless pool of misery, you froze at the sound of footsteps approaching the room. Internally cursing your father once more, you braced yourself for what lay ahead.
"This way, Mr. Jung. She's ready for you."
Hearing those words turned your stomach. Yes, this was your current reality. You were nothing more than a commodity—a comfort woman for hire. An object for men to exploit when they sought release, to use as they pleased, as long as they could pay for it.
As you accepted your fate, you closed your eyes and bowed your head, the wooden door creaking open slowly. There was no escape from this—his reservation for the entire evening could only mean one thing. He hadn't bought your time just for conversation and a meal. No, he was here for the reason most men visited a brothel. This was it; this was how you'd lose your innocence.
"Miss Han...?" The man's uncertain voice echoed through the room.
Lifting your gaze to meet the individual who would be claiming your innocence tonight, your eyes widened in recognition as soon as you laid eyes on him. He was the handsome stranger you had collided with the other day. With a gasp, you uttered, "It's you..."
"So, y-you're the famous private investigator? Wh-what are you doing here?" You asked, then shook your head and cleared your throat, "Wait, I'm sorry. That was a foolish question; everyone knows why men come here." Inside, you couldn't deny the disappointment. His initial impression had been shattered now that you knew he was your first client. He didn't seem like the type to visit such places, but you supposed you couldn't judge a book by its cover.
His eyes widened at your implication, and he quickly shook his head, waving his hands to deny it as he stepped closer to you. Seeing you visibly shrink back, he made sure to keep a respectful distance, "No, you don't understand. I'm not here for that, Miss Han."
Lowering his voice, he took a seat in the nearest chair and continued, "I'm here to help you. My name is Wooyoung, as you already know, and I'm an investigator. I heard you're here against your will because of your father. Is that right?"
He fought to keep his composure, trying not to let his gaze linger too long on your features. He could feel the blush creeping up his cheeks as he struggled not to let his eyes wander further down to the sheer hanbok, which left your bare shoulders exposed thanks to its see-through material. Typically, such hanboks were reserved for married women about to spend the night with their husbands. The realisation that he was alone in a room with his dream girl dressed like that was enough to leave him flustered.
But he knew he needed to focus on the task at hand. Now was not the time to be feeling shy or distracted. He had a more important mission: to get you the hell out of here. So, he pushed aside his feelings and did his best to remain composed for your sake.
Nodding slowly, you furrowed your brows with scepticism, "Help me? Why? You don't even know me. What's in it for you? I have no money, and the only thing I can offer is..." Your voice trailed off as you glanced down at your body. Your distrust was palpable as you considered whether you could trust him. Just because he was the investigator who helped General Park capture the former Minister of Military Affairs didn't mean he had any obligation to you.
Understanding your hesitation, Wooyoung sighed deeply. He sympathised with your reluctance to trust a stranger, especially considering the betrayal you had experienced from someone you should have been able to rely on. He didn't blame you for questioning his motives; it was a reasonable response given the circumstances.
He looked into your eyes with a sincerity that struck you deeply, "Listen, not all men are like that," he said earnestly, "I know it may seem difficult for you to believe that someone would be willing to help you without expecting anything in return, but I'm here to prove to you that we exist. I'll admit your beauty captivated me initially, and I genuinely intended to court you. But after learning the truth about your situation, what kind of person would I be to not help? I won't rest until I get you out of here."
His words struck a chord within you, and there was a sincerity in his tone that you had rarely heard, not even from the people you called your parents. Despite your initial scepticism, you decided to believe him, if only for this moment. After all, if someone truly wanted to rescue you from this dreadful place, who were you to object?
You suppressed the shyness that arose upon his admission of his intentions to court you. Memories of your first encounter with him flooded back, making you ponder how different things might have been if you were an ordinary girl. Nevertheless, you were grateful he hadn't given up on you despite discovering your identity. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to have a friend in him.
Moving to sit across from him at the dining table in the centre of the room, you nervously fidgeted with your fingers, "Alright, Mr. Jung. I'll choose to trust you. I appreciate your efforts to help me, but... how do you plan to do that? The Mansion of Midnight isn't a small establishment. They've been around for as long as I can remember, and none of the girls working here have been able to just walk out as they please. As far as I know, I'm part of their property now."
"Not if I can help it. The larger the establishment, the more skeletons they have in their closet. Especially in a place like a brothel, I doubt their operations are entirely above board," he explained, "I'll keep returning for the next week, and buy up all your time. That'll keep other patrons away. Meanwhile, I'll use that time to snoop around. Trust me, we're getting you out of here, no matter what." He reassured you with a warm smile gorgeous enough to melt your heart, but you didn't let it show.
I most certainly hope so, Mr. Jung.
You couldn't help but admire his unwavering determination, even though a part of you hesitated to allow yourself to feel hopeful. You dared not raise your hopes too high, afraid of the crushing disappointment that would follow if his plan were to fail. Yet, at this moment, you were grateful to have crossed paths with him, whether or not he'd be able to get you out of here.
« Preview of Part 2 »
"Sir, Investigator Jung is here to see you," Jongho announced at the entrance of his master's study, an anxious Wooyoung standing beside him. The general raised his brows in surprise, "At this hour? Let him in."
Without hesitation, the investigator rushed into the room, "My lord, I apologise for showing up unannounced so late at night! I know you said not to bother you and Lady Park for the time being, but there's something urgent that I need help with—"
"Woah, breathe, Wooyoung. Calm down and take a seat. Jongho, please bring us some tea," With a bow, the assistant moved to leave before halting when Seonghwa called out to him again, "Wait! On your way back, let the mistress know not to wait up for me. I have a feeling this won't be a short meeting."
"Of course, sir," the assistant replied.
Feeling guilty for getting in the way of what should have been the couple's honeymoon time, the younger man sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, "Gosh, I really am sorry to intrude on your alone time with your wife."
The general smiled reassuringly, shaking his head, "Please don't worry about it. It must be important for you to rush here so late. Besides, you've helped me plenty before. It's only right for me to return the favour now. Tell me, what do you need help with?"
"I know I previously declined the bonus incentives you offered, but... would it be alright for me to accept them now?"
Wooyoung hadn't fully considered the financial implications when he confidently promised to return to the Mansion of Midnight every day for the next week. It dawned on him how costly even one night there had been. He couldn't possibly ask his parents for money to be spent on a brothel. Despite it being for a noble cause, they'd have a heart attack. So, he had no choice but to seek financial assistance from Seonghwa.
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I was initially going to make this into a oneshot, but that would take me too long to post and I didn't want to make y'all wait any longer than you already have! So, voila! I'm breaking this into 2 parts. The next part will be the second and final part of this spinoff.
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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redheadspark · 3 months
Text
Lullaby
Summary - Azriel's mate gives birth, and Azriel's life is forever changed.
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Author's note- I love the great response from the one-shot Trust, so I decided to write another little oneshot about Azriel, Reader, and little Alec on the day he was born! Enjoy
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Azriel knew he was making tracks on the floor at this point, but there was no way he was going to stop now.  His mind was racing and his feet were carrying him.  Back and forth, back and forth.  His shadows were even trying to catch up with him as he was thinking all of the worst things that could happen.  The sun's early misting rain was outside the tall windows of The House of Wind, the howling wind from the tall mountains was heard sightly while Azriel was going back and forth in front of the tall windows.  On a good day, there would be a marvelous view of Velaris, but not today.
Not on the day his wife went into labor.
A strangled cry was heard behind the double doors, Azriel stopping at his pace as he heard your cry of pain and his eyes trained on the doors.  It’s been at least three hours since Madja arrived, bag in hand, and abruptly pushed Azriel out the door without a second glance.  Azriel wanted to be in there with you, to hold your hand and bring you comfort since he knew you were going to be in insane pain.  But then again, he would have to go against Madja who has had more medical and healing experience than anyone he has known in his life.  All he could now was wait, wait for either the best or the worst.
He made a plan for this day, when you were about 7 months along he wanted to make a concrete plan for the birth of his unborn child.  Others must have thought of him as insane since he had a detailed itinerary from where the birth would take place and with whom in attendance.  It was working out perfectly for him since he knew most of the Inner Circle would be a simple contact away if things went left.  Of course, Azriel wouldn’t want to think about the scenario if things might go wrong, but he had to since not everything would go according to plan.
Cassian and Nesta were on their honeymoon up in the mountains, and Elaine and Lucien were in Autumn Court, which left Rhysand, Feyre, and Nyx at the River House for some quality family time.  You and Azriel were requested to housesit the House of Wind for Cassian and Nesta while they were away, you both not minding staying in the large home for a few days while you were getting slower and slower in your walking.  As your stomach grew bigger by the day, Azriel’s worries for you were growing as well.
He knew the tales of Illyrian childbirth, how brutal it was, and how unmerciful it could be.  Some children were born stillborn, their little bodies were not able to handle the birth.  Many mothers died in childbirth, mainly because their bodies would give out from all the body would endure.  Your own mother died giving birth to you, robbing you of your time and love from your birth mother.  Azriel vowed to not let that happen to you, you were far too precious and too important for him to have taken away.  Being the main source of light in his very dark world, you brought him bountiful happiness and never ending love that he felt as though he never deserved.  
To think of a world without that love, without you, would kill Azriel.  
Rhysand talked with him a week before, sensing that Azriel was beyond worried and scared for both you and your child.  He sat Azriel down at your little home while you were napping, the pair of them sitting out on the front porch as Azriel was venting to him all that was on his mind.  Although he knew it was his burden to hold onto, Rhysand was someone safe for him to talk to.
“You cannot let these thoughts overwhelm you, Az,” Rhysand said to him as he watched Azriel with concern, “Those demons and nightmares you’re having will kill you from the inside out if you let it.  Your wife and child are going to be fine, and you will have your family,”
“How do you know?” Azriel asked in a mumble, Rhysand reaching over to tap his leg with his fingers.  Azriel’s hazel eyes were met with violet ones, along with a soft smile.
“Because you and your wife, my cousin, deserve to have a family.  You two deserve it more than anyone I know, and you will have it,”
Now you were in labor, your water breaking abruptly while you two were still sleeping in one of the guest rooms in The House of Wind, and Azriel could feel through the bond that you were struggling.  He felt the pain, so intense and almost mind-numbing, as well as uncertainty and a hint of fear.  It made him worry all the more, trying to communicate through the bond to you.
I’m here, baby.  I’m here He thought through the bond, hoping and praying to The Cauldron that you were okay from the otherside of the double doors.
Azriel….It hurts so bad, Az!  Your voice was in pain, almost struggling to speak as Azriel tried to remain calm.  
The sudden sound of wings was heard right outside the window, Azriel’s head snapping over to see none other than Rhysand and Feyre bursting through the doors that lead to the balcony.  He sighed in relief, seeing the High Lord and High Lady there for him and his wife. 
“Azriel, thank The Cauldron!  How is she doing?” Feyre asked, but another blood-curdling scream was heard from the room where you were in.  This scream was brutal, almost like torture.  Azriel squinted at the sound, it was almost painful for him too.  All three of them look, Azriel’s face growing pale as Rhysand clasped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.  
“Let’s get you a drink,” he urged Azriel, about to pull him away and distract him when another cry was heard.  A new cry, smaller and yet distinct.  It made everyone in the room freeze in shock, Azriel’s eyes went wide as he was staring at the doors. 
It was the sound of a newborn baby.
Azriel’s heart was suddenly beating so fast that he felt it against his chest in a dull ache.  His hands were shaking and felt beyond clammy as the newborn cry was echoing from the room, but to him, it was a beautiful sound.  It was the sound of his child, coming into the world, was one of his new favorite sounds in the world.  
“Cauldron..” Rhysand said in relief as one of the doors swung open abruptly. 
“Shadowsinger, you better get in here!” It was Madja, and Azriel’s feet were moving before he realized.  He was gliding over, that’s how fast he was going, and once he made it past the open door, he stopped in shock from the sight.
You were perched in the bed, bathed in sweat with your long thick hair in a braid that was over your shoulder and the nightgown you wore in plastered against your body as blankets were bunched against your stomach and covering you from the hips down.  Towels were askew, some covered in blood, and others were perched in the massive tub of hot water that was near the bed.  Azriel breathed in the scents of blood and sweat, seeing you faintly smile at him from the bed as Madja walked over to him with a bundle in her arms.   His heart raced, his eyes were solely on the bundle that was wiggling.
“Here is your son,” Madja said to him as she placed the bundle in Azriel’s shaking arms.  He lost his breath, looking at the small little being that was there and that was wiggling.  Nothing else ceased to exist to him, nothing else was coming to his mind, and everything was blank and empty.  All of his months of worry and wonder, of hope and uncertainty, were replaced by seeing the newborn.
His newborn.  His son.  Azriel had a son.
“You tend to him as I tend to your wife,” Madja said in a huff, walking away from Azriel before he could say anything to her.  He tore his eyes away from his son to you, seeing you grimace a bit while Madja was digging through her bag that was on the nightstand.  His concern grew.
“I-Is she alright?” He asked in a croak, about to walk over to you before Madja pulled out new herbs and tonics.
“Worn to the bone but healthy.  You have a strong wife, Shadowinger, and your babe is just as strong as she is,” Madja explained as she mixed some herbs together with ease, “She’ll need to get clean and have plenty of rest, but nothing else to worry about.”
“Thank you, Madja,” you said in a breath as she handed you a concoction to drink.  Azriel was relieved to know that you were safe and unharmed, feeling through the bond that you too were relieved and happy.  His heart was filled from the sight of you alive, though he was interrupted by the gurgles and coos from his son.  He tore his eyes from you back to your son. 
He was so small in Azriel’s embrace, but he was instantly in love with the little boy.  The tan skin, the dark mop of hair on his head, and the very small set of wings that were along the tiny backside.  There was no blemish on the little one that Azriel could see, the round cheeks he had along with the eyelashes and the plump bell-shaped lips.  Everything about this baby, this little being that was a mixture of Azriel and his mate, it was all perfect.  Azriel never saw a more beautiful creature in his life, and he couldn’t help but feel fresh tears in his Spymaster orbs.
This moment was new etched in his mind, a massive and pure memory that he knew he would never forget in his lifetime.  There were plenty of moments in his past, both good and bad, that he would remember from time to time.  His softer memories with his mother, meeting Cassian and Rhysand for the first time, Seeing your blue eyes and falling in love with you, your first kiss together under the stars.  Those memories were core to him, they helped him come out of the darkness and into the light that was always waiting for him.
And now, the new core memory of holding his newborn son would forever change him.  
Azriel carefully traced his son’s cheek with one of his scarred fingers, seeing how instantly his son was calm and content from the touch of his father.  It made Azriel’s heart soar, watching his son almost nuzzle into the touch with ease as Madja hummed and walked over to him with waiting hands. 
“There, now let me have the babe and check him thoroughly.  You tend to your wife and get her changed,” Madja instructed, Azriel reluctantly handing his son back over, “I’ll need to check his wings if they were damaged from the birth.  But by the color of him and his cries, he seems to be healthy. “
With a heavy heart, Azriel moved away from his son and Madja, who walked over to the end of the bed that wasn’t messed with blankets.  His eyes stayed on the child, though he moved over to you as you were waiting for him with an outstretched hand.  Azriel took it, kissing the back of it and sighing in relief seeing color on your face and a grin to match.
“Thank Cauldron you’re alright,” he said in relief, sighing in your sweaty hair as he embraced you carefully on the bed.  You held him close,  breathing in his scent as he peppered your face with kisses and his tears hitting your cheeks, “I was thinking the worst…and I felt it in the bond,”
“It was worth it,” you sighed as he pulled away and watched you, “Every single amount of pain I felt was worth it…he was worth it all,”
You both heard the gurgles from your son, Madja checking his temperature and then looking over his limbs.  Azriel could see the small wings that looked so fresh and new along the tan backside.  They were so small, but he knew deep down that over time they would be massive and filled with strength.  
Just like his parents.
“Come on, baby.  Let’s get you a shower,” Azriel urged as he helped you swing your legs over the side of the bed.  With an arm along your backside, he helped you on your feet.  You were still sore, though it was slowly melting away thanks to both the tonics from Madja and your own Illyrian strength.  You were still taking your time to the bathroom that was attached to the room, the House instantly turned on the shower with the right temperature and pressure.  
Azriel helped you strip down and eased you into the shower first before he stripped down and joined you.  Although intimate, given the two of you bare and holding one another under the water, it felt more than that for you two.  It felt like another chapter was unfolding for you both Azriel was washing you down with gentleness and care, another stepping stone in your life that you both would take together while he washed your hair with his fingers.  You felt his love in his fingers and along his lips as he kissed your skin, showering you with affection for not only giving him a son but for also not leaving him alone in this world.  
You were part of his soul, as he was part of yours.  
Finally, after getting you cleaned and changed into fresh clothes thanks to the magic of the House, Azriel changed quickly back into his old clothes and ushered you back into the bedroom.  The old sheets and towels were gone, fresh sheets were made on the bed with new fluffy pillows and the window was ajar to bring in the fresh air.  Madja once again was holding your swaddled newborn, a big smile on her face.
“You have a healthy babe,” She said as she walked over to place him in your arms.  You took him softly, seeing how he was blinking slowly to show the bright blue eyes that he inherited from you.  Seeing him there, in your arms, after being inside of you for so many months, it was almost like a fever dream.  But he was there, breathing in the same air as you, and you felt your heart grow bigger from the sight of your son.  
“There’s nothing wrong with him?” Azriel asked as you were still watching your son, seeing his eyes blink again as his finger clenched and unclenched in a constant rhythm.  
“Nothing out of the ordinary for an Illyrian babe.  He’s small, but the lungs on him tell me he’ll be just fine,” Madja explained while he was packing her bag up.  She then pointed at you with a singular finger, “You are to rest here for one night, I don’t wish for you to put more stress on your body.  You can head to your home tomorrow after I come and do a follow-up.  Drink the tonics I gave you for the pain and the lotion for your skin,” She paused, holding her bag in hand as she gave you and Azriel a soft smile, “You two have a strong son, I pray blessings from the Cauldron for a happy life with him,”
You both thanked her as she slipped out of the room, you heard her talk to Rhysand and Feyre outside your room as you sank back onto the bed with your son snuggling close to you.  You looked over every inch of him, the way his hair was thick and already showing some waves, his ears that seemed to be from you, even the cooling touch of his skin as you inhaled his sweet baby scent through your nostrils.   You saw him yawn, being content in your arms as he was slowly closing his eyes and falling asleep within your embrace.  The softness of his breathing and the morning wind filled the room, it all felt like you were dreaming as you watched your sleeping son and your husband at your side.  
This was a dream that you never wanted to wake from. 
“Sweet boy,” You cooed, reaching over to touch his smooth skin with a graze of your finger.  Your son yawned, snuggled into the blanket a bit more still deep asleep as you grinned in pure happiness, “You’re simply perfect, aren’t you?”
“You’re perfect, baby,” Azriel hummed to you as he wrapped you in his arms, having you lean against him with ease and his nose grazing your freshly washed  hair, “I’m insanely proud of you for bringing him into the world, for bringing us this gift,”
You smiled and looked up at him, seeing him with some fresh tears in his eyes as you leaned up to kiss his chin, “Look at the Shadowsinger being emotional,”
“I don’t care,” He shrugged, his scarred hand reached over to touch the blanket your son was swaddled in with pride in his tone, “I’m beyond happy with my family here, it’s all I need,”
To see your husband and mate in such a state, it made your heart swell tenfold.  You knew deep down he had a heart, a massive one at that which would only be vulnerable to those who he was close to and considered his family.  You saw it when you two were young and passionately in love with one another, and to see it evolve and strengthen over time seemed like an honor and privilege.  And now it was happening all over again with your son now in your life.  
A gentle knock was heard at the door, you both look over to see Rhysand and Feyre poking their heads in.  They instantly saw your son, both of their eyes going big and massive grins on their faces.
“Can we come in?” Feyre asked, you nodding with a hint of excitement to show off your newborn.  Both of them slipped in, closing the door behind them and walking over to be perched at the side of the bed where you and Azriel were.  Feyre’s eyes were already misting, seeing your sleeping son and her warmth was radiating off her grin and gaze.  Rhysand clasped Azriel on the shoulder with pride.
“He’s perfect,” Rhysand said to Azriel, then leaning over to kiss the top of your head lovingly, “Well done Cousin.”
“Thank you, Rhys,” You said to him as you then gestured to your sleeping son, “You want to hold him?”
Azriel watched with a soft grin as Rhysand took his son gently in his arms, already holding him perfectly since he had practiced with his own offspring.  There was a look of pride on the High Lord’s face, scanning the little boy up and down with his own sense of love that he would share with his nephew.  Feyre beamed as she stood and perched her head on his shoulder, looking at your son too.
“Oh, he’s simply beautiful,” Feyre said with a sigh before giving a small wink to Azriel, “Takes after his father no doubt,”
Azriel slightly blushed as he shook his head, “Thank you for the kind words, Feyre.  But hIs eyes are of the bluest sky, just like his mother,”  
“Still, a handsome boy and Illryian,” Rhysand said with his smile as he looked over at the pair of you, “No doubt he’ll be surrounded by love and support from his family.”
“I should hope so,” You teased, Rhysand rolled his eyes as you spoke again, “Considering he’s named after the High Lord who is holding him now,”
Both Feyre and Rhysand looked at you in shock, though you and Azriel were remaining calm.  Of course, this was one of those topics that was between the pair of you, trying to think of names and never being able to settle on one thing since you didn’t know the gender.  But you both knew one thing for certain: the middle name.  It was going to be sacred and filled with meaning, coming from a special person to the pair of you.  
Rhysand was more than just the High Lord of Night Court, he was your family and kept you close within arm’s reach.  Even after he lost his own immediate family, he treated you as a sister and loved you dearly.  To Azriel, Rhysand was a found brother and close friend, the family that took him in when his own family left them in ruins.  
Rhysand saved you both, and you both owed your lives to him.
“We don’t know his first name yet, but his middle name will be Rhysand,” You explained as you saw some tears forming in Rhysand’s eyes, “We had to name him after the very High Lord who brought us both out of the darkness and made us feel loved when we didn’t.”
Feyre snuggled into Rhysand as he was grinning at you with tears in his violet eyes, but you knew that they were tears of joy.  She kissed his cheek lovingly as Azriel made his way over to him and clasped his shoulder. 
“You mean the world to us, you both do,” he said to Rhysand and Feyre, “And we owe our lives to you.  Thanks to you, our son will know the true meaning of family, Rhys,”
As Feyre and Rhysand embraced Azriel, you were filled with content in how this day was unfolding and a new chapter beginning your life.  It was all you and Azriel wanted: being surrounded by family with your new child finally in the world.  
It was all you wanted and more
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“There we are, much better, huh?”
Azriel closed the door behind him, his son whimpering in his hold as they were out on the small terrace.  The night sky was clear and calm, the warm winds were enough to leave some of the windows open as the moon hung high in the open sky with a scattering of stars.  The twinkling lights below from the city seemed to set the mood as Azriel stood out in the open with his son, who was watching his father with his newborn eyes.
Cassian and Nesta cut their honeymoon short after being contacted about the birth, coming back to the House of Wind an hour after Rhysand and Feyre gave the new family some time together.  They too were excited to meet the new addition to the family, though Cassian teased in wishing for your next child to be named after himself.  You blushed madly as Azriel gave him a playful glare, but Cassian threw up his hands.
“What?  Fair is fair!”
Since you were restricted in staying in bed, you both were going to stay one more night before Madja would come back and clear you to go home.  It was safer that way since you wanted to be at your best for both yourself and the baby, and after nursing him and having more time with your newborn, you were drowsy and you fell asleep.  But before you could, you finally thought of a name that suited your son well.  
Alec.  Alec Rhysand. 
Azriel took the helm in watching over Alec as you were resting and in a deep sleep, thinking it was the best time to have alone time with Alec while the rest of the world moved on around him.  His mind was still on overdrive on all that happened that day, running on the last bit of energy he had but also energized at the same time with his son in his arms.  There was still more to be done, but Azriel would think of those things later. At that moment, he wished to simply hold his boy close.
“You had a busy day,” Azriel hummed to Alec, seeing his son watch him with his bright eyes as Azriel kept talking, “Coming into this world screaming your head off.  You had to make your mark that way, didn’t you?”  
Azriel had to chuckle from how serious Alec was looking at him, the moonlight bathed on his skin and illuminating his bright eyes some more.  Azriel saw his mate in those eyes, a familiar sense of home was set in his gut as he reached over to tuck the blanket in a bit more around his son.
“I hope you know how loved you are,” He explained to Alec, swaying a bit back and forth as the warm wind came again, “I’m sure you do.  Not just by me and your mother, but by the rest of your family.  And I vow to you, Alec Rhysand, to always love you and show you how much I love you every day for as long as I’m alive and breathing,”
Azriel thought about his mother then, seeing her face in his mind and missing her all the more.  He wished she was still alive, away from all that pain that was around her but never diminished her kindness and gentleness.  He wondered how his mother would feel about Alec if she would love him and be happy to have a grandson.  It saddened him that he would never know, but he didn’t want to dwell on it too much.
“You will never have to be afraid,” Azriel softly spoke to Alec, who was wiggling a bit in his blankets, “Nothing in this world or any other world will harm you, not while I’m here.  Anything you wish to do, whatever path you choose to take, your mother and I will be behind you,”
He could only picture and dream what his life would be like, what kind of Illyrian Alec would grow up to be.  Would he be wise?  Or perhaps a strong soldier.  It never mattered to Azriel, not when he knew deep down that Alec would have a bright future.  He would strike down any foe or enemy that would dare to harm his mate or son since they both were his world now.  First, it was his mate, his sole source of love and joy that he never wished to withdraw from.  
And now it was his son, making his heart expand and grow.
Azriel’s finger moved up to tuck in the blanket once more, though Alec’s small and delicate hand grabbed his finger before he could do it.  It made Azriel freeze like a statue, seeing the small hand cling to his one finger like a lifeline.  The pristine and soft hand against a scarred finger is such a contrasting thing to witness.  But Azriel felt like he was under some kind of spell from the touch of his son, simply feeling his hand around his finger and feeling how tight Alec was holding onto him,
Almost silently telling his father he needed him. 
So Azriel hummed, a lullaby he remembered when he was a young boy in need of love.  The same lullaby his mother sang to him as a babe, both haunting and beautiful at the same time.  Azriel recalled that little song driving the nightmares away, making the shadows that would plague his mind disappear like mist in the morning sky.  He remembered the feeling of being held by his mother, the sweet scent of her hair, the soft tenor of her voice as she would sing to him.
Before he knew it, Alec was fast asleep, nuzzling into the blanket he was tucked tight in, but his hand was still gripping Azriel’s finger.  But Azriel didn’t have the heart to stop singing or stop swaying, even as his son was in deep sleep with a content look on his infant face.  He simply let the lullaby go on, floating into the night sky and around him as his constant swaying was therapeutic for him.  If need be, he would stay out there for hours and hours on end just to keep his son happy and content.  He would do anything for his son at this point, and he felt no shame for it.
He was too occupied to notice that you woke up from your slumber, pulling on a robe to watch your mate and son by the window with a massive grin on your face.
The End
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tagged - @valeridarkness @impossibelle
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xveenusx · 9 months
Text
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Enough
Pairing(s): Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary: Realizing that no matter what you do, no matter how much you love someone, you are still not enough.
Author’s note: I’ve had a severe case of writer’s block so please don’t hate my disappearance.
Rating: Pure brutal angst
Warnings: fucking painful
__________________________
I think I may have made a small miscalculation.
My eyes trailed over the mass of muscle currently spread out on my bed.
Rafe Cameron.
Kook King, heir to Ward's real estate empire, and asshole extrodinare was sleeping soundly in my bed. It was almost laughable if I wasn't so fucking terrified.
The sunlight danced across his tan skin, the sheets bunched up at his hips leaving little to imagination. My breath caught as my eyes followed the small happy trail causing memories of last night to assualt me.
Sitting on the chaise lounge chair, I curl up against the pillows humming softly to myself. Bringing the mug up to my lips, I bite back a smile at the utter relaxtaion on his face.
When Rafe told me to pack a bag, my stomach flipped with nerves. Being the maid of the infamous Cameron family wasn't exactly ideal in the eyes of his family let alone being a pogue. So we kept our relationship a secret at his request. He had too much to lose if his family reacted poorly.
People wouldn't understand. Ward wouldn't understand. That's what he always told me.
Yet, as much as I tried to understand his reasoning, a small part of me ached at the thought of it being much simpler: I just wasn't enough.
It was exahusting to say the least. Always having to hide and watch as other women with more social status and money than me throw themselves at him. It didn't help that Rafe had a tendency to flirt back causing the green monster known as jealousy to rear its ugly head in my face.
So I stuck with what I knew how to do: clean.
And just as I begin to fall off the deep end, straight over a cliff into overthinking, Rafe always manages to pull me back out. This time he did it by offering a small getaway.
The Cameron's weren't set to use their beach house for another month or so, leaving this entire property for Rafe and I to simply enjoy each other's company. Something we rarely get to do.
There was no need to pretend here.
A groan pulled me out of my thoughts directing my eyes to the bed. A cool salty breeze swept in from the open balcony doors, the sounds of waves crashing agaisnt the shore soothed me.
Rafe peered at me from under his arm with a frown marring his features.
"What's with that face?"
"I don't like waking up alone." He complained, staring at me expectantly.
Giddiness singes every nerve in my body as I set down my mug and scurry over to the bed. The moment my knees hit the bed, strong arms envelope me and tug me into a warm prison.
"Mmmmh." Rafe hums, burying his face into the nape of my neck while his hand slowly tugs my leg over his hip. A small giggle slips from my lips at his softness.
"Are you laughing at me?" His voice rumbled with sleep.
"Yes, you’re a very simple man to please."
"I didn't have you, and now I do. There, it's simple."
My heart melted at his words. For someone who struggled wiht expressing how he felt, Rafe always managed to knock me on my ass.
"What did you wanna do today?" I asked, trailing my fingertips along his face, placing every freckle, every spot to memory.
Blue crytsalized eyes follow me every move. "You. In every room in this house. Then outside."
Blushing at his words, I huffed in fake annoyance and playfully shoved his face away from me. "Rafe, I'm being serious."
"I'm being dead serious, baby." He nipped at my fingers before rolling over onto his back, dragging me directly on top.
I rest my chin on the tops of my hands that laid on his chest and stare at the beautiful man below me. Rafe's fingers thread themselves into my hair brushing it softly, alomst lulling me to sleep.
I wanted to capture this moment forever. The sound of the seagulls chirping, the smell of the salty breeze, the warmth of his body under mine, and the utter adortion that dances in his eyes as he looks at me. It was intimate and real. And for a moment, I allowed myself to dream about the possibility of this becoming a reality.
The abilty to hold his hand in public and kiss his body in private. Being able to go on dates and be on his arm for events and dinners. Hanging out with his friends and his family because I knew what they meant to him. Being able to wake up in his bed rather than sneaking out in the middle of the night. I wanted it all.
Our picture perfect bubble. And consider me naive, but I thought this moment would last forever. But the thing about bubbles is they always pop in the end.
"Guess what?" Rafe asked, his cerulean orbs intense and sincere.
A beaming smile stretched across my lips at the familiar phrase he always used. "What?"
"I love-"
"I love you." I beat him to it, making him let out a deep bellyed laugh. I was memoriezed, enamoured by every little thing he did. I wanted to hear it again and again.
Opening my mouth, "No take backs-"
A knock on the door interrupts me.
That's when our bubble pops.
"Rafe? Open up." Sarah Cameron's voice fillters in from the other side of the door.
My eyes dart to Rafe, only for his face to be painted with sheer panic. In seconds, I'm shoved off the side of the bed and fall onto the floor in a heap of sheets.
My mind took a moment to catch up with my body. But when it did, the flood of emotions that crashed into me were nothing short of excruciating. An immediate lump formed in my throat at his actions as I try to make quick excuses for him but nothing came to mind.
"Just stay down, please." The sound of his request has me closing my eyes, his words hitting me deep, knifelike in the size of the wounds that they left.
I nodded softly. I remain still on my side on the cold floor as I numbly stare at the wall.
"Sarah, what the fuck are you doing here? I had the beach house for the weekend." His words were low and sharp, nothing like how he spoke to me mere seconds ago.
"Chill out. My friends and I wanted to get away a little, plus I figured you were already here, so. "
"You brought those fucking pogues here?"
I hear her scoff. "Your friends are worse."
"Just make sure they don't steal anything. I know it's hard for them considering they wouldn't see this type of money in a life time." His words were cruel, twisting the knife deeper into my chest.
I couldn't help but wonder if there was a double meaning behind his words. I was a pogue, just like Sarah's friends, and it would take me years to afford even a fraction of what's in this beach house.
Was that how he saw me? Was this the reason why we couldn't be public?
"Have you seen her? She wasn't at the house when I left." Sarah's question drew me back to the present.
I held my breath as I waited for him to answer about my whereabouts. I couldn't take another hit.
"I know you have about two brain cells, but please tell me why you would think I know where the help is?"
All my breath left my body and I fought the urge to scream. A heavy weight sat on my chest as I blankly stared at the floor, my eyeballs burning in absolute mortification.
"God, you're such an asshole."
"I aim to please. Now leave me alone." With that, Rafe slammed the door shut but I refused to move a muscle.
Instead, I tried to focus on my breath. It was the only thing that would keep me from having a panic attack. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs but it's like my body forgot how to breathe.
Tears finally began to fall silently as I gasped for breath, clutching the sheet closer to my chest. Humilation pricked my very being as his words play on repeat in my mind.
Rafe was the best part of my day. He made me want things I didn't even know I wanted. And yet, this was how he viewed me. So small and insiginifcant.
Footsteps move in my direction but I paid them no mind. Moving was impossible, so I just stayed in the spot where Rafe thought I belonged— on the cold hard floor.
"I know how it looks, just give me a chance to explain." I felt him kneel beside me, his hand reaching to cup my face. I jerked my face away from him and return my attention to the wall.
"Can you please get off the floor?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"This is where you wanted me, right?" The words left a stale taste in my mouth.
My heart pounded in my throat as a hot flush filled my cheeks.
"Look at me." He demanded.
I couldn't. It hurt too much.
"Baby, please. Look at me." He touched my chin and I felt my body shudder.
"Don't touch me." The words tore out of my chest as I wrenched myself away from him.
Rafe's eyes tracked my movement and his face became very still as if contemplating his next move.
The level of betrayal I felt must have been painted on my face, because his expression shifted to one of regret.
"I made a mistake-"
"Stop." I snapped, lifting my hand to cut him off. "Get out. I need to change and leave before Sarah see's me."
"I drove you, where are you going to go when you don't have a car?"
My eyes narrow at his tone. Once again he was painting me as this helpless girl that was nothing without him.
"I have two legs that work perfetly fine."
Rafe crossed his bulging arms against his toned chest. "You're not leaving until we talk."
A fake laugh past my lips. "We're done, there's nothing left to talk about."
He let out a growl of frustation. "We're not breaking up."
Was he delusional?
"This is me breaking up with you. We are done, Rafe."
Rafe's icey blue eyes narrowed into slits. "Stop trying to break up with me."
"You threw me off the bed!" I shouted, my hands pointing to the floor where I laid moments ago, the shame still fresh as an open wound.
"You threw me off the bed." I repeated softer, my voice breaking at the end. "The bed, Rafe. Just so Sarah didn't see you with me."
"I shouldn't have done that-"
"It happened. It's done. Just let me leave."
Protecting what little self respect I had left was my only goal. No matter how much I loved him, it wasn't worth this constant stream of self doubt and humiliation that seemed to follow us like a plague.
Rafe stared at me for a moment before he jumped into action. Heading towards my suitcase, I watch frozen as he goes through my clothes, picking an outfit for me.
Taking several strides to me, Rafe shoved the clothes into my arms, his breath heavy. "Put these on."
"Rafe, what the hell are you doing-"
"I made a mistake. One that I'm going to fix right now. So stop fighting with me and put these on."
Unease filled me chest as my eyes dart to the clothes.
"How?"
"No more hiding. You and me, okay?"
I stared into his hopeful gaze, looking for even a flash of insincerity or deceit, but only found sheer determination. "Rafe, you can get out of this. I'm giving you an out-"
He shakes his head roughly, strands of golden hair falling on his forehead. "I don't want an out, I want you. So put the clothes on so I can go tell the world I love you."
I snorted, "Seems a bit melodramatic. Let's start small, yeah?"
Pushing his hair back, a sexy smile pulled at his lips. "Small."
I made my decision. Turning around, I grabbed the clothes and began to dress.
I wiped my sweaty hands against my mini white sundress as nerves begin to prick every bit of my skin. Rafe stood in front of me, his glacial eyes soft, with his hand held out for mine. "Ready, baby?"
Hope inflated my lungs as I placed my trembling hand in his, the cool feel of his rings brining a familiar type of comfort.
Rafe leads us out of the room and towards the staircase where voices floated up from downstairs. I was nervous. Extremely nervous. He was going to do it. Rafe was going to introduce me as his girlfriend to his sister and her friends, no less.
The sound of our footsteps echoed against the giant house causing the voices to slowly die away.
Coming into view, Sarah and the pogues are all perched in the living room wearing beach attire. An open bottle of tequila and shot glasses are spread along the table.
All eyes zone in on us before they zoom in on our clased hands. Sarah's eyes widened and I fought the urge to pull my hand from Rafe's grasp. As if sensing my thoughts, Rafe squeezed my hand reassuringly and moved me slightly in front of him.
He cleard his throat. "I uh-"
His eyes shot to mine. I let my fingers brush against his arm in encouragement, a proud smile gracing my lips.
This was the first step in the right direction. Once we told Sarah, it would be easier with each passing person.
Butterflies swarmed my stomach like a zoo. I knew how hard this was for him, but he was still doing this for me, for us. Rafe was finally making us a priority. The unattainble future now felt like it was within my reach.
"Sarah, there's something I want to tell you. I've um-well I've been seeing-"
The front door slammed.
"Looks like we're missing all the fun." Ward Cameron walked in, hand in hand with Rose. A loose linen shirt with thin pants dress his body with a hat and an expensive pair of sungalsses cover his face.
I felt Rafe's grip slowly loosen on my hand. Panic clawed at my throat as I turn my head to look at him. Rafe stared directly ahead with his jaw clenched. He refused to even look at me.
In a last ditch effort to cling onto the invisible string that held us together, I tightened my grip on his hand but Rafe jerked his hand away.
I felt the pressure in my chest finally pop and the string that once tethered us together finally tear. Dread sat in my stomach like lead and bile traveled up my throat.
He made his decision and once again, it wasn't me.
Heat rushed up my neck as I left my arms hang limply at my side. I didn't know what to do, I couldn't think. My shoulders slumped as I bit down on my tongue hard enought to draw blood.
It kept me from screaming.
"Rafe, thank god you brought the help. Though it looks like she hasn't been doing much cleaning." Rose tsked as she looked at the littered table in distaste. "Honey, be a dear and make us new drinks. Then when you have a minute, our bags are out front. Go ahead and put them in our room."
With a wave of a hand she dismissed me, as her and Ward walk passed me with no other acknowlegment.
My mouth went dry as I clenched my shaky shands together. I could feel Sarah's gaze drilling into the side of my head, but I couldn't look at her. Instead, I once again looked at the bane of my existance. The source of this crippling pain the crushes every inch of my soul.
"Rafe..." My voice trembled as I begged him, pleaded, for him to look at me. Just once.
I wanted him to see my face. He refused, the only hint of his turmoil was the bob of his adam's apple.
Swallowing my pride, I put my head down and do what I do best: clean.
____________________
I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me alive. I spent the rest of the day doing every little thing Rose asked. I kept my head down and said not one word.
Rafe made my place in his life very clear so I was going to be exactly what he wanted me to be. The perfect little maid.
The entire Cameron family sat at the table for dinner, John B included, as I gently set each of their plates down in front of them. I held my breath once I reached Rafe, knowing that one hint of his expensive musky cologne would send me into a fit of tears.
"Thank you." The timber of his voice caused me to close my eyes briefly in pain.
A familiar touch to my wrist made me jerk away and clear my throat. I continue serving dinner, forcing myself to ignore the gravity that's pulling me towards him.
"That'll be all, you can go relax for a bit. We'll need you back to clean up, of course."
"Of course." My smile was brittle. I allowed myself only a glance. Rafe glared down at his plate, hands clenched into fists at his side.
My feet moved on their own accord and soon I found myself outside, standing beside the pool that overlooked the shore. Taking in gulps of air, I placed my head in my hands.
Starting over was never something I planned. Once I met Rafe, everything else shifted into perspective. All I ever thought about was moving forward with him and starting a life together. One that he would be proud of. One where I didn't have to hide.
"I'm sorry." The words came from behind me and burned a whole straight through my chest.
I choked back on my tears that threatened to drown me and stare down at the rag in my hands.
"Baby." He moved closer now, his heat pressing into my side.
A small shake of my head was all I could muster. The armour I placed around my delicate heart was getting weaker with each passing second.
"I said, I'm sorry." His hand reaches for my waist, turning me to face my destruction.
A light blue linen shirt paired with white six inch seamed shorts don his body. A large gold watch decorated his wrist to match the shiny gold necklace that rested on his chest.
Looking down at myself, a simple tee and leggings, the contrast was so striking it was laughable. In what world had I fooled myself into thinking Rafe Cameron was mine.
Deciding to proctect my sanity, I moved back towards the house with every intention of cleaning up before grabbing my bag and leaving when Rafe blocked my escape.
"Did you hear me? I'm so fucking sorry, for all of it."
"I heard you." Indifference lacing every word.
Rafe gowled, running his hands through his hair in frustation at my lack of emotion. "Stop acting like you don't care and just talk to me."
"I don't care what your family thinks of me and I don't care what you think of me. I dont care anymore, Rafe."
Rafe gripped my chin and his irate gaze burned me. "Tell me what to do to fix it."
There was nothing left of me for him to fix.
The sound of Ward calling out my name is enough to distract Rafe. Pulling my face from his grasp, I promplty turned around and headed towards the house.
"Stop fucking walking." He barked out harshly.
Ignoring his words, I continue to head in the direction of the house. Only a few more hours and I can leave with my head held high despite the gaping hole in my chest.
"I swear to God, stop walking." I could hear his footsteps behind me causing a rush of adrenaline to spread like wildfire through my veins.
"Last time I checked, you work for my family. My last name is fucking Cameron so if I tell you to stop walking, you stop fucking walking." The words are cruel and dark and they have their desired effect because I stop immediately in my tracks.
My eyes began to burn as I pivoted on my heel and slwoly turned to face him. His gaze hardened and I can see him contemplating something before a vicious smirk decorates the face I love.
A glass tumblr was in his hand and I watched in absolute shock as he tilted the cup, spilling the dark liquid onto the floor. The rag in my hand suddenly weighed eight tons as I realized his intent.
"Clean it up."
My blood turned ice cold and a sound a disbelief left my lips.
"I said, Clean. It. Up." He gestured to the floor.
I searched his eyes for anything, for everything, but there's nothing there. Looking back down at the mess, I nodded my head and slowly dropped to my knees.
Tears blurred my vision as I scrubbed the floor clean, wanting nothing more than to disappear. Our fate was finally sealed in that moment.
Leaning back on the heels of my feet, I swallowed. Tears clung to my lashes but the damage was already done. The trails the tears left in their wake burned into my skin as a reminder of his cruelty.
His cold mask finally cracked at the sight of my tears. Rafe took a step in my direction but something in my face made him halt.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Cameron?” I averted my eyes from his.
A harsh noise escaped his lips then he reached out and grabbed my shoulders. I closed my eyes at the heat of his touch and my lips began to quiver.
“I just wanted you to talk to me….” Rafe spoke softly, his words pained.
I wiped my tears harshly and forced myself to look at him for the last time. His hard glacial eyes study my face.
The memory from this morning continued to fade out of my reach. Pain filled me as I realized that was the last time we would ever be together.
“Am I free to go, Mr. Cameron?”
His face crumbled. For a second, one second, a twisted sense of happiness hit me at the sight of his pain. Rafe did this to us. Not his family, not his friends, but him.
Rafe’s face became very still. He nodded slightly and relief filled me. I stared into his eyes, hoping he could see all the love I had been so willing to shower him with, but it was now too late.
Giving him my back, I allowed the dirty rag in my hand drop. 20 more steps. That’s all that stood between me and the next chapter of my story. One that didn’t include him.
Each step seemed to get heavier the farther I walked away from Rafe. I was wrapped around a haze of heartbreak that almost made my movements mechanical.
I entered the house, numb to the bone, and gathered all my things. Everything around me was out of focus as I dragged my suitcase towards the front door.
I could see Rose from the corner of my eye, her mouth moving, but the ringing in my ears only seemed to get louder. Pushing past her, I headed straight for the door and forced myself not to look back.
Everything was different now. In a way, so was I.
One foot in front of the other, I walked down the drive way. The ringing in my ears and the adrenaline that pumped through my veins was suddenly dulled at the sound of the door slamming open behind me.
Loud footsteps echoed behind me before my arms are grabbed and I’m forced to turn around.
Rafe’s eyes were wild with panic as he panted in front of me. His entire appearance was disheveled with his hair sticking out in all directions.
“Don’t go.”
I was so close to being out of his grasp and being free of this agony that gripped me so tightly it made it hard to breathe.
“You were never mine. Were you?” The question slipped past my lips before I knew it.
“I love you. I do, please just come back inside and I’ll do what you want. I’ll tell Ward and Rose right now.” His blue eyes held so much hope, but it wasn’t enough. The magic was all gone, replaced with this cruel torment.
“I was yours, in every way possible. But, it didn’t matter what I did. I still wasn’t enough for you. I’m never going to be good enough, am I?” My voice cracked, but the words were out along with the realization of how painfully accurate they were.
Warm hands cradled my face pulling me towards his. Rafe rested his forehead on mine, his eyes boring into mine. I could feel the slight tremble in his hands.
“That’s not true. You know that’s not true.”
“How could I possibly know that? You never do anything that says otherwise.”
“I love a man who can’t even hold my hand in public.” He couldn’t hold me gaze, instead he turned it to the floor with his jaw clenched.
“You knew who I was when we started this. You knew what came with being with a Cameron. Our situation is much more complicated than you’re making it fucking seem. So I didn’t hold your hand, now you’re going to leave me?”
His logic was horribly flawed.
“Our situation is not complicated. All you had to do was love me the way I loved you.”
“Whether you like it or not, you’re a fucking maid,” Rafe said through gritted teeth,” The maid to my family, no less, and you expect to be welcomed in with open arms? This isn’t a fairytale, wake up.”
”Then what was the point of all of this? Of me loving you and you loving me, if it was never going to go anywhere.”
“The point was that we were together and we were happy.” Rafe let out a frustrated noise and shook his head. But it was clear, he wasn’t getting it. I knew nothing I’d say would ever get through to him.
“Were we? Together, I mean. Because I was always at your beck and call. Literally and figuratively. Where were you for my college graduation? Where were you when my dad died? I’ll tell you where you were,” I pressed my finger into his chest, “You. Weren’t. There. Instead, you chose to love me from afar because you care more about the opinion of sheep than you do me.”
I couldn’t stop talking. It was as though a wall cracked and suddenly every emotion I held in was flooding through.
“Look at me.” I shouted, grabbing his chin and forcing him to stare. “I want you to look me in the fucking eye. Look at the damage you caused. You did this to us. ”
“Stop being cruel.”
“Cruel? You threw your drink on the floor and made me clean it up. Did seeing me on my knees make you feel big and strong?”
He tilted his head, his expression darkening. “Enough. Come back inside, now.”
“I wanted everything for you.” I laughed at how incredibly stupid and blind I had been. “And you can’t even hold my fucking hand.”
Race’s eyes softened marginally. “Tell me what to do. How can I fix this?”
My stomach tightened. Steeling myself, I swallowed the lump in my throat and pushed out the next words. “You can’t.”
“I can, but you’re not give me a fucking chance here.” His words came out as a plea.
“Being with you was a choice I made every day. One that you clearly couldn’t make, so I’m making it for you. We’re done.
His jaw ticked. ”Try and fucking leave me.”
I wanted nothing more than to run back into his arms and comfort him, despite it all. But I knew, if I was going to survive this at all, I couldn’t be with him.
“I’m always running behind you, trying to keep up. Trying to be everything you want and everything you need, but I’m all out of breath. I have nothing left to give you. But it’s still more than you ever gave me.” With those being my parting words, I clutched onto the handle of my suitcase in a death grip and force myself to walk away from him.
My shoulders jump at the sound of something shattering behind me.
“I love you.” Rafe screamed at the top of his lungs from behind me. His voice was brutal and laced with pain.
Not enough.
_________________
Side note: pls let me know what you think! I’ve been gone for several months so I’m a bit rusty:) I am working on the second part of Hate as promised!
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inkblotsinkblots-alt · 2 months
Text
My experience with [band]
My experience with [band] and [band]'s management starts in April 2022. I had emailed the band's business email that used to be in their bio in December 2021, and in April 2022 I got a response. I had been asked if I was available within the next couple of weeks to come down to Brighton and do a photo shoot with the band. Management really liked my work, and wanted to work with me. I was asked to provide my rates and any expenses that would incur. I had asked if I would be at least credited for these images on social media (tagged etc ...), and management said that they could not commit to that at that time. This photo shoot did not happen.
I worked with [band] for the first and only time in January 2023 and photographed / videoed their set.
I was completely blindsided by the fact that this could’ve been a huge opportunity for me, and it could change my career completely. When I got the email inviting me to work with the band, I screamed and actually worried my parents for a few minutes. I agreed to terms that I shouldn’t have (not a full written agreement, but various statements in emails). In hindsight I had no clue what some of them meant (and I think the band’s management knew that).
There was no formal contract, only emails. The band would own my photos 'in perpetuity' and when I asked what that meant, they (management) said that 'the band have the freedom to use them however they please'. Making money off of my photos, and putting them on merch that they would then sell out of, was not mentioned. I was under the impression they would only be using the photos on social media as I did not get any clarification, even though I asked for it. I wanted to press for a more detailed answer, but I was afraid that I'd lose the job.
This was never about the money that I'd potentially make from having my photos on merch, it's that I didn't even know it was happening. I was also 'allowed' to upload '3-4' photos to my social media from the gig, even though they were my photos. I was stupid enough to agree with this. Again, I felt as though if I challenged this I would lose the job.
At the end of the show in January 2023 I was promised at least a couple of shows on the upcoming tour, as '[I was] great to work with. Such a pleasure.' I have no evidence that I was offered shows during that tour as it was said to me in person. I was then let down at the beginning of March (after multiple follow up emails) with 'I don't think there is the additional need for your services also' when I asked about discussing the tour. I was devastated.
I was offered photo passes* to subsequent Manchester gigs and I took them as they had no strings attached, and the band would not own my images (that's why you've seen a lot of them on my socials).
I met a bunch of well-known creators, musicians and photographers while working with [band] and they were all so very sweet. Some of which I am still in contact with today, and some I am good friends with. I am very grateful for this.
I fully support Shelby, she is so incredibly brave for talking about her experiences, and it's because of her bravery that I felt confident enough to share my experience - although very different in nature.
I fully believe that [band]’s management wanted to take advantage of fans who wanted to photograph [band]’s gigs. And pay them as little as possible with no consistency in pay between photographers or how many photos they were allowed to post. (This is my own opinion)
I am not the only one that has had a negative experience with [band] and their management as a photographer / creative, but those are not my stories to tell and if they want to comment then they will. Please don't speculate on who these people are or harass them on social media, they have every right to not want to talk about their experiences. Please respect everyone involved.
Massive love, take care of yourselves.
am
(*Photo passes are offered to press photographers and non-touring photographers. They shoot the first three songs from the photo pit and then leave. Either to go into the crowd for the rest of the gig, or leave the gig entirely.)
please do not edit this post or reblog, do not take screenshots and post this on twitter or any other social media platform, thank you.
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