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#song is night changes by one direction <3
mrs-azriel · 25 days
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A Pair of Spies - Azriel x Reader
Pairing: Azriel x female!reader
Warnings: Angst to fluff. Kinda oblivious reader and Az. Jealousy. Changing yourself for a man (don’t do this y’all).
Synopsis: You decide to change how you dress and act to get his attention, but when your plan works, you realize that it doesn’t feel as good as you thought it would.
Word Count: 3.7k
Based off of this request! Changed some stuff to make it work, hopefully you all still enjoy <3
She was everything you weren't. Sweet, soft, and beautiful in a way that had never suited you. Bright colors washed you out, flowy dresses didn't compliment your figure, and being approachable to everyone wasn't easy for you.
You didn't dislike these things, it was just that they were so far from being you.
You had a rough exterior. Honed from years of spywork, of seducing men just enough to gain intel - and looking good while doing it. You were comfortable this way.
Dark skin tight dresses, high heels that you still managed to keep functional, sharp red nails, a red lip, and dark kohl lining your eyes was your look. It was what you loved and it was what looked best.
Unfortunately for you, however, it never attracted the people you wanted it to.
Planning to meet the Inner Circle at Rita's, you strutted down the cobblestone streets while you felt the gaze of several curious onlookers - some envious, some hungry, others impassive. None of them mattered to you. There was only one person's gaze that you cared about.
The Shadowsinger.
The Spymaster.
Not technically your boss, as you worked directly under Rhysand, but more of a superior co worker of sorts. You didn't care about any of that. You just . . . loved him for him.
Unfortunately.
You had worked side by side for decades, completed countless missions, saved each other's lives. The Shadow of Death and his Deceptive Seductress.
It looked perfect on paper, however, it seemed that the Shadow of Death was looking for someone to balance his darkness, not add to it.
You felt the floor rumble beneath your feet from the loud music as you entered the doors to Rita's, eyes scanning the crowd for the familiar faces of your chosen family. Heat-filled gazes followed you as you made your way through the crowd and you were sure to give a few of the fae a sultry smile and others a wink.
"If it isn't the Silent Killer!" Cassian's voice boomed clearly even above the music and crowd noise.
"What did I say about calling me that? You know exactly how it sounds."
He laughed boisterously, "And that's exactly why I will continue to use it." You responded simply with a sharp middle finger in his direction.
As you sat in your usual seat, you found yourself unable to relax. Not with Azriel directly next to you. Especially when he had not once looked in your direction to greet you because his eyes were glued to the beautiful Archeron sister next to him.
As the drinks kept coming and you felt the effects more and more, you allowed Nesta to pull you up and onto the dancefloor. You wished you could fully enjoy your time - allow the alcohol to take over and lose yourself in a stranger for the night if only to relieve your stress.
And when a tall, strong, and objectively handsome male offered to take you home after dancing to a few songs, you realized that you wouldn't be granted that luxury tonight. While you had been in love with Azriel for longer than you could remember, you had always been able to date and have casual partners.
You weren't sure what changed in the past couple months, but suddenly, you couldn't stomach the idea of being with anyone but the Shadowsinger.
You were embarrassed, truly, at the depths your love went when he had never given you any hints of reciprocation. You had thought that you had made your intentions obvious. To you, it went deeper than your flirty mannerisms and sultry gazes. Never once had you shared more intimate moments with a male than you had Azriel.
On more than one occasion you had spent nights together simply talking about life, your goals and aspirations, your regrets. You had patched each other's wounds up numerous times and grounded each other when your emotions got the best of you.
But he only saw you as a friend. Perhaps taking your flirting as simply a part of who you were, not something sincere that he could interpret as reality. You had hoped that he would notice that when you flirted with him, it wasn't superficial like it was for your job.
Or maybe, he just wasn't interested. How could you blame him? You had done bad things - using your looks and nearly every male's inability to keep it in their pants to lure them into traps.
He saw these dark things due to his job all the time - no wonder he might want a break from it in his personal life. A break from someone like you.
As you rejected the advances of this beautiful male in front of you, you turned back to where you last saw Nesta - only to witness her and Cassian grinding on each other. Stifling a giggle, you went to return to the table that was reserved for the High Lord's Inner Circle, only to find it empty besides Azriel and Elain.
They spoke in hushed whispers, her with a flush on her cheeks and him with an adoring look in his eyes. A pang of jealousy erupted in your chest and you wondered why you were destined to be in love with a male who could never love you back.
You looked at her soft purple gown and the bow that held her hair up. Her minimal makeup and girly manicure. She was so soft around the edges and her eyes were so inviting. You looked down at your pointed red nails and skin tight black dress. You remembered the dark kohl lining your eyes and the red tint that adorned your lips.
You were rough around the edges, wary of everyone, and unapproachable - the complete opposite of what Elain was. She appeared friendly, kind hearted, and everything that you were not.
Maybe he would like you if you were like her.
You knew it was a horrible idea, but even that knowledge couldn’t stop you.
The first thing that you changed were your nails. Your regular tech looked at you like you had grown eight heads when you asked for short nude nails.
"Alright, who are you and what have you done to Y/N?"
"Ha-ha, real funny," but you felt embarrassed that the change was being pointed out so quickly. "I just think it's time for something different."
Thankfully none of the Inner Circle mentioned anything that night at dinner, if they even noticed the change at all. You knew Azriel would have noted the difference - his shadows missing nothing - however not even he said a word.
If you wanted him to notice, you would likely have to make other changes. Even if this small one made you feel like an imposter.
The next thing that changed was your makeup. Once again meeting your family at Rita's, you felt exposed - almost naked - without the usual heavy kohl lining your eyes and the dark lip. You resorted to a clear balm and simply curled your lashes.
This caught the attention of your family.
“Trying something new, Y/N?” Rhysand smirked. One glance at the High Lord and you knew that he was aware of exactly what you were trying to do - even though the walls in your mind were impenetrable.
“Perhaps.” Unable to control the grin from appearing on your face, a defence mechanism against the embarrassment that you felt so deeply. You simply sat in your usual seat and allowed the regular banter to distract you from the heat of the Shadowsinger to your right. He had yet to utter a single word to you, let alone meet your gaze, still turned towards Elain.
This was stupid. Why did you think this would work? No matter how you portray yourself he -
“You look different.”
That voice you had been yearning for weeks for finally spoke to you. You did your best to mask your shock and looked towards him with soft eyes, rather than with the dark gleam they normally held.
“Astute observation, Spymaster.”
He laughed, and you felt the sound deep in your chest, needing to hear it again.
"I mean to say, you look nice." He assured, eyes open and honest.
You thought it would feel better, his attention, his compliments. But knowing that he was complimenting this false portrayal of yourself simply left a gaping emptiness in your heart. Is it worth it? To be someone you're not simply to have him near?
"Thank you, Az," you found it hard to speak sincerely, but you were used to putting on an act. "I could say the same about you."
There was that laugh again, and you thought you might have caught a nervous glint in his eyes, but it quickly disappeared.
And the two of you spoke, more in a few hours than you had in the past three weeks, but you accepted it all in earnest. Any attention he was willing to appoint to you was worth it.
Right?
Azriel had continued to grace you with his presence over the next few days, eyes meeting yours whenever you entered a room, offering you help during training (even though you were both aware that you didn't need any), and walking you home from Rita's.
You felt guilty, because you were taking up his time with Elain, however, whenever you met her gaze while Azriel was speaking with you, it held no resentment or jealousy. It almost seemed . . . happy?
You knew deep down that this could never last. This wasn't you. But having the male you have loved for so long finally seem to notice you - it keeps you from backing down.
You looked in the mirror at the pink dress you had just slipped into, and you grimaced at how bright it was. You admitted it was a pretty color, one that looked amazing on Elain’s complexion, however you found no joy in how it looked on you.
You hadn't even owned anything pink, going out of your way to buy it earlier that day. The shop owner said nothing to you, however you didn't miss the intentional glance she gave to the other worker - likely confused by your choice in wardrobe.
You built up the courage to start your walk to dinner, trying to look completely confident in your attire - the dress, the nails, and the makeup in all. Even though you felt so wrong.
After a deep breath, you pushed the doors open to the dining room, reminding yourself to place a small smile on your lips.
Mor was the first to see you, and she openly gaped at your appearance. Nesta saw you next and simply smirked, likely aware of your schemes as well. She always seemed to know everything.
Azriel and Elain were sitting next to each other as usual these days, both facing the wall opposite to where you were, and therefore had not yet seen you.
When you realized Cassian had seen you and you watched his mouth open to say something, you raised an eyebrow and gave him a familiar deathly glare. A silent warning to shut his mouth before he regretted it. His mouth closed just as promptly.
You sat down just as everyone began to eat, and you thanked the Mother that no one had commented on your appearance. You weren't sure what you would say had they done so.
Dinner went on without a hitch. Azriel spoke to you just as much as he had over the past few days, not ignoring Elain of course (and you wouldn't expect or want that from him).
As you said your goodbyes before you returned home, you wished the Shadowsinger farewell and walked onto the balcony alone.
Before you made it too far, you heard quick footsteps approaching from where you had just been. You turned around to see a breathless Azriel in front of you.
He breathed out your name, and you looked at him in concern as he seemed so rattled. So unlike the stoic temperament that he normally exhibited.
"Is everything alright, Azriel?"
"Yes, yes, of course," he averted his hazel eyes from yours, "I need to ask you a question."
Your heart rate increased and you hoped he could not hear it. "Ask away."
He gulped audibly, and you wondered what could possibly have him so nervous.
"I . . . I was wondering if you would want-" he fumbled with his words, and your concern only grew at the out-of-character behavior. He started again, more composed this time, "I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to dinner sometime?"
You simply stared at the male in front of you.
"Or - simply go out with me sometime."
He was asking you out. He was asking you out.
It was what you wanted for so long - something you dreamt of. You had imagined what this moment would feel like.
And now that it was happening, it felt all wrong. He had finally noticed you, but he noticed a false portrayal of you. You felt uncomfortable dressing this way, looking this way, acting this way.
He didn't want you. Not the real you.
His hopeful gaze turned panicked when he noticed your eyes water up. 
“Oh Azriel,” you sighed in defeat, “I can’t. I’m sorry.” And with that you turned around once more.
“Y/N-” he started, but you were already gone.
When you arrived home, you ripped the dress off your body so quickly that you heard a tear. You stared at your reflection in the mirror and hardly recognized the face looking back at you. 
“Gods, I’m so stupid. So, so stupid!” you grunted and kicked at a box that was resting on your floor. You felt numb, humiliated, and so shameful.
It was all your fault anyway - if you had never tried to be someone else, your friendship with Azriel wouldn’t be ruined, and you wouldn’t feel so inadequate. Of course he only wants you when you’re not yourself. Why would he want you?
Azriel was still standing in the place where you left him. He thought he had been heartbroken before, but your saddened rejection had shattered him in a way he had never imagined possible. It wasn’t until a soft hand touched his shoulder that he moved from his statue-like position.
He turned to face a concerned Elain. He could feel the beginnings of the familiar emotional numbness that typically followed bouts of strong feelings.
“Azriel? What happened?”
“She said no.” The words were barely audible, but the middle Archeron sister heard them. Her eyes grew so sad that the heartbreak threatened to overthrow the protective numbness that had spread through him. 
“Oh, Azriel. I’m so sorry.” She truly thought that you would say yes. She had seen how you looked at him. “Why don’t we go inside? Some sleep might help.”
As she led him inside, all he could think about was you. He thought you both had always had something between you, but perhaps it had been all one-sided. He had fallen in love with you decades ago, when you had first begun working under Rhysand as one of his spies. 
While helping Elain adapt to her new environment, they had formed a friendship - an understanding. He had confessed to her about his love for you, and she helped him figure out how he could overcome his fear of ruining your friendship and finally ask you to dinner. 
He was embarrassed that he had dragged Elain into his delusional thinking. As he laid in bed after Elain had left him on his own at the entrance to his room, he tossed and turned at the thought of your future together. He had ruined everything. 
He had wanted too much from you. He should had known that all he deserved from you was the closest friendship he had ever had.
And now that was gone. 
He had nothing. 
A week went by without encountering the Shadowsinger. You weren’t sure if it was coincidental, or intentional on his behalf, but nevertheless, you didn’t complain. You had completely thrown away the soft act that you had been putting on and reverted back to how you normally dress and behave. 
You decided to rummage through Rhysand’s cabinets for food since he had so much that he never noticed anything missing (and if he did he never said anything). As you turned the corner into the kitchen you came face to face with the male you had been dreading seeing again after your rejection of his advances. 
He looked up at you and as experienced as he was at hiding his emotions, you could tell he was feeling awkward at the impending interaction. You took note of the dark circles under his eyes, an indication of a lack of sleep, and your chest filled with pain at the thought of you being the cause of it. 
“Azriel.”
“Y/N.”
“I’m sorry, I was just gonna-” you stopped yourself. “Nevermind, I’ll leave you to it.” You muttered as you turned around.
“No! You don’t have to leave.” He called after you. Not wanting to hurt him anymore, you faced him once more and gave him a small smile in acknowledgement, before opening one of many cupboards of food. 
The silence in the room was palpable, and you could feel his gaze on you. After a few minutes, he finally spoke up again.
“How did your mission go?” 
At first you didn’t believe he was even speaking to you, thinking that you had missed someone else entering the room, but when no one answered him you realized it was indeed you who he asked the question to. But, you hadn’t been on a mission in nearly a month. 
You whipped around and frowned in confusion. 
“What are you talking about?”
It was his turn to look confused. “The mission you had been preparing for?”
You were truly at a loss for words. For a pair of spies, you both seemed to be completely unaware of much information. 
“I have no idea what you mean, Azriel.”
“You know, the pink and purple dresses? The different makeup you were doing? The nails? You were preparing for a mission, right? Like you’ve done hundreds of times before.”
A million thoughts raced through your head, and you started making connections between everything that had happened in the past few weeks.
“So, you think I went on a mission?” You asked carefully.
“Yes, I did. I’m assuming now that that was not the case?”
“You’d be correct in that assumption.” You spoke quietly and shook your head in an attempt to clear it.
“Why were you dressing like that then? And acting like that?” He asked, looking even more confused.
You avoided answering that question for the time being, needing more clarification before admitting to what you had tried. “So, let me get this straight - you didn’t ask me on a date because of how I was dressing?”
“What?” he almost looked hurt, and he made his way closer to you. “Is that what you thought? That I only asked you because you suddenly had a change in wardrobe?”
Well when he said it like that . . . 
“Yes,” you looked away sheepishly.
“Is that why you said no?” he asked slowly, as if testing the waters. 
You looked up into his hazel eyes, and built up the courage to tell the truth, “Yes.” You watched as a wave of relief filled his gaze, before hardening again in confusion.
“I didn’t ask you because of that, Y/N. I love the way you dress, and I love your personality the way it is. Why were you dressing like that if not for a mission?”
“I- I thought that if I changed how I looked you would finally notice me.” You winced at how your words sounded. “I noticed how close you had gotten with Elain, and I thought that if I was more like her, that your would like me too.”
“Oh, Y/N-”
“I know it was stupid, and selfish!” you were mortified, “I shouldn’t have done it and I regret it. If you’re happy with Elain then what right do I have to try and take you from her?”
When you finally met his eyes again they were soft, and had amusement sprinkled in. “Are you forgetting the part where I asked you out on a date?”
Heat rose to your cheeks. Clearly your emotions were hindering your typical awareness that was necessary for your job. “Right.”
And he laughed. And you laughed with him.
“Can I ask why you have spent so much time with Elain? Not that you shouldn’t have, I just- could’ve sworn you were in love with her.”
“I guess I can see why it would look like that. But Rhys had asked me to help her adjust to her new life as a fae, and we became friends. She’s actually been helping me build up the courage to ask you out.”
You stared at him for a few seconds, mouth agape, before covering your face with both hands. “I completely screwed this up, didn’t I? How am I a spy and I read this so wrong?”
You felt scarred hands pry your own away from your face before the male pulled you into his arms in a hug. “Don’t be embarrassed. Not around me.” 
Your heart melted, and you calmed a bit in the safety of his arms.
“I’m sorry for reading things all wrong, and trying to manipulate you into liking me.” Your words were muffled against the fabric of his shirt. You felt the vibration of his chest as he laughed. 
“There was no manipulation needed. And while I’m sure just talking to me would have made things easier, we would never have this ridiculous story to tell.” You groaned dramatically at the thought of telling the rest of your family about what you had tried to do. He pulled away from the hug but kept you close. “I think I’ve done this completely wrong too. You thought me to be in love with Elain? I can’t believe I made you think that when I love you. And I have for a while now.”
Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you smiled brighter than you had in a long time. “I love you too, Azriel. So much.”
His lips crashed into yours, and at once, you both felt the golden string pull on your chests, tugging you towards one other. You gasped and reached a hand up to feel the new sensation.
"Were mates" he said, voice thick, but the smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.
"Were mates!" you whispered in shock and excitement.
You saw tears line Azriel’s eyes in happiness as he asked,
“So . . . how about that date?”
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cowboyellies · 7 months
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- You’re Not Good Enough | e.w.
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you keep on coming back,
i keep letting you in
pairing: college player!ellie x fem college!reader
warnings/themes: angst, ellie is v emotionally unavailable (my type <3), she's a teensy bit manipulative, reader mentions past toxic relationship, slight smut, heavy making out (in public), fingering r! receiving, mentions of oral sex r! receiving
word count: 3.8k
synopsis: ellie ends things with you and quickly finds that the hold you have on her is much stronger than she thought. when she sees you a month later at a house party she tries to change things.
a/n: hello!!! i'm pretty proud of this so I hope you guys enjoy :) also this is based off of one of my favorite songs so I recommend listening to it while you read
PART TWO
“I think we should call it” she said as your eyes were glued to your phone, aimlessly scrolling while laying on her beat up couch. you switched off your phone directing your attention to her, confused by her question. you noticed then she was sitting with her head in her hands, gripping the roots of her short auburn hair.
“what?” you asked meekly, sitting up now. you already knew what she meant but you needed to make sure anyway.
“I just think we should probably stop whatever this is, it’s too much for right now,” she mumbled to the floor, still not making eye contact with you. you felt your heart drop suddenly and the familiar prickle hitting your eyes. you had felt so secure just moments ago, so comfortable, now you just felt an overwhelming sense of embarrassment. you were embarrassed over the fact that this was all a shock to you.
earlier in the night as you laid naked in her bed you realized you were probably falling in love with her. you thought in that moment as you breathed heavily next to each other that she was feeling the same way. now come to find out that she was probably already planning on ending it then. the sex that you thought was the start of something deeper was just her final goodbye to you, that’s why it felt so fucking good.
looking at her now with her body slumped over in tiredness you thought back to the way she phrased it. “we should call it” as if it was a group effort. as if she wasn’t the one dumping you. you had been dumped once before and they had used the same phrasing that she did. that first time you begged and pleaded with them to reconsider. you cried at their feet begging for one more chance, willing them to change their mind and stay. as you stared at ellie’s slouched over frame you remembered the painful embarrassment you felt begging for someone who didn’t want you back.
that bitter memory is what stopped the tears from falling out of your eyes. you let out a hardened sigh and stood up from the couch. “okay, if that’s what you want,”
ellie looked up suddenly, shocked by the casualty of your tone. she was bracing herself for the screaming, the last thing she ever expected from you was compliance. she had completed this cycle with girls before and the fallout was always a mix of yelling and lots of tears, a few had even thrown things. she could have sworn she heard your voice wavering just moments ago but now you seemed fine.
“what?” she questioned. genuinely not prepared for this level of calm.
“I said okay? if that’s what you want I can’t change that,” she was looking at you closely now. your face was hard but not necessarily mad. you looked like an entirely different person than the girl that was laughing on her bed just an hour before. the you standing in front of her now looked miles away.
once you realized she wasn’t saying anything else you began collecting your things you had left around her apartment. in your last breakup amongst the crying and dramatics you had left your favorite hoodie there and you didn’t want that to happen again. ellie followed you to the doorway of her bedroom where you were now grabbing your belongings, her eyes following you still in shock. you felt satisfaction from the way you were rattling her but most of you was just moving on autopilot, shutting your feelings off until you were away from her apartment and could finally burst.
once you had shoved everything of yours into a bag you made your way to the door. as your hand was on the knob you felt ellie’s on your shoulder, the feeling of her touch grounding you back into what was happening, causing your body to stiffen.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. you were feeling it all now, the weight of it was starting to crush you and you feared if you turned to face her you would start crying for real that time. so instead of replying you opened the door and left, letting out heavy sobs as you walked to your car.
ellie stood at the doorway for a while after you left, mulling over everything that had just happened. she knew this was her ideal scenario. she could never have dreamed of a smoother break. especially when she knew you were both starting to develop intense feelings for each other, which was the reason she ended things in the first place. she knew she should feel relief now but the look on your face was haunting her. she realized then that she had taken away your softness. instead of feeling the freedom she desired she now felt an insurmountable wave of guilt.
over a month after you and ellie’s breakup, if you could even call it that, you now find yourself sitting on a couch at a crowded house party flirting with a random girl. you had wallowed in the pain of ellie ending things for a solid two weeks and had recently decided you finally needed to get back to being a functioning member of society. after your last break up you didn’t go out for six months afterwards and you were determined to break that cycle.
so now here you were in your little black dress and denim jacket listening to this girl talk about a concert she had just gone too while you made prolonged and flirty eye contact with her. this was new territory since in all of your past relationships you tended to be the girl blabbering away about something instead of being the one pretending to listen. this time around you were going to make sure you wouldn’t be the one getting naively attached.
ellie stood sourly outside of the party dreading whatever would meet her behind those doors. dina had practically forced her to come out tonight and she had absolutely no desire to be there. she expected herself to resume her usual role in casual hookup culture but something had been stopping her.
she had decided to end things with you when one day she realized you were the first thing she thought of when she woke up in the morning. it was a random tuesday and when she checked the clock she remembered you said you had class at that time. that immediate correlation to you was such a foreign feeling that it terrified her. she wasn’t used to caring for anyone but herself and hadn’t been in a long time. she found herself missing the comfortableness of fucking someone and never calling them again. she assumed that's what she’d be doing after you left her apartment that night but found she couldn’t.
in the month that you’d been apart she had done the unthinkable for her. she found herself drafting texts to you and not sending them. she hovered over your number multiple times toying with the thought of calling you but never doing it. she even made it a habit of stalking your instagram. she saw one night you went to a club with your friends and she felt strangely nauseous. she hated it. she hated being the stalker when she was so used to being the one being stalked. it made her loathe you and miss you all the same.
she finally made her way into the house immediately heading towards the liquor table. she knew she needed to alter her brain chemistry quickly if she was ever gonna make it through the night. after downing a drink she turned her head to look for dina and suddenly heard a sound she was all too familiar with.
you were still sitting on the couch but now you were just centimeters away from the random girl. you let out a loud giggle over something she said but you weren’t sure if you actually thought it was funny or if you just wanted to get in her pants. the answer to that question didn’t really matter because you suddenly felt her hand resting on your leg and knew you had succeeded. she slowly leans towards the side of your face adjusting your hair to whisper in your ear “I’m gonna get us some more drinks”
you smile softly at her and nod your head as she rises towards the kitchen. your eyes trail her hungrily when suddenly she brushes past a figure that quickly catches your attention. ellie's standing there tightly gripping her red solo cup staring at you. her jaw is lightly clenched in the way it does when she's mad but trying not to show it. you feel your posture stiffen from it’s previously relaxed position and all the carefree charisma you had been trying to channel all night is instantly sucked out of you.
after a minute of intense eye contact she begins making her way to the couch. your fight or flight kicks in and suddenly you began pulling yourself off of it. you instantly don't care at all about the cute girl in the kitchen pouring you a drink, you want to get out of there now. ellie picks up on your movement and begins following you outside. after making your way through the house you realize you won't be able to get away from her without causing a scene so you eventually decide to just stop in a more reserved part of the backyard, landing the two of you under an oak tree.
“what do you want?” you immediately ask her as soon as she reaches you. the tone of your voice isn't mad, just tired, and it kills her. she would rather you be angry, she wants you to be angry. she just stands for a while trying to think of what to say
“I just… I just wanted to talk,” she finally settles on. she knows it sounds lame but it's the truth. you sigh in resignation, leaning your back against the trunk of the tree while she figures out what to say to you. she isn't used to chasing people and doesn't know how to do it without sounding like a desperate loser. before she ended things you seemed to always be at her beck and call, now you want nothing to do with her. she leans her hand on the wood next to your shoulder, staring down at you before she speaks again, your eyes shifting downward in response, trying to avoid any level of intimacy with her you can. “I guess I just miss you and I want to see how you’re doing,”
you let out a dry laugh which catches her off guard. you finally look up at her and see her eyebrows furrowed in confusion which starts to bring some of your anger to the surface. “I’m doing great ellie. actually I was doing amazing till you decided to interrupt my night with this stupid conversation,” your tone now annoyed as opposed to your indifference from earlier.
“yeah it sure looked like you were having fun in there,” she replies harshly as her jaw tightens like it did earlier when she was watching you.
“what the fuck are you you talking about?” you snap, now staring directly in her eyes. you see in your peripheral vision a couple from a few feet away begin to stare but you're getting too heated to care.
“I heard your fake little laugh from the kitchen. were you gonna fuck her and then fake an orgasm too?” she's inching closer to you now, her grip tightening on the tree.
“are you seriously jealous right now? you realize you’re the one who dumped me, right?” you feel like your head is gonna explode in frustration. you had spent weeks trying to get over her and now she has the audacity to be angry about it.
“which clearly didn’t matter to you at all. does that girl in there know how emotionally closed off you are?” she pushes, remembering how distant you looked standing in front of her in her living room that day.
“are you fucking kidding me? do you realize how insane it is to be upset at someone for not crying when you dump them? have you lost your fucking mind?” you're fully yelling now, not caring about the people around the yard sneaking glances at the two of you. “and if anyone is emotionally unavailable it’s you. I should never have started something with you in the first place,”
ellie knows she's in the wrong. she knows everything you're saying is valid and she has no right to be talking to you right now. she should be leaving you alone to get over her but instead she wants to get under your skin some more and eventually beneath your clothes. she’s quiet for a moment, giving you time to calm down. she’s still staring down at you now watching the way your chest rises and falls as with your breaths you try to calm yourself down.
“look I know I'm a piece of shit, alright?” you roll your eyes at her, adjusting yourself into a cross armed position.
“I’m glad we’re in agreement ellie. are we done here?” you begin to straighten yourself to walk away when she pushes her other hand on the tree, closing you in. you'd normally freak out and push past her but something about her movements are weirdly gentle and the tequila shots you had taken earlier are starting to lower your guard.
“I treated you like shit and I regret it. just let me make it up to you okay?” you're staring up at her through your eyelashes now in a slight pout. your face looks so gentle that she moves to brush a lock of hair out of your face. you hate yourself for it but you lean into her touch. you know her words mean nothing and could never mend everything that happened between you two. but it's late, you're lonely, and you highly doubt that girl would still be inside if you push ellie away.
before you can stop yourself you're grabbing ellie by the back of her neck and kissing her. it takes her no time to kiss back, quickly grabbing your waist and pushing the two of you up against the oak. as her hands explored your sides you feel all the self respect and awareness leave your body. you're no longer acknowledging how gravely stupid you're acting and instead are focusing on how good it feels when she kisses your neck.
as she inches her hands past your dress and up your thighs suddenly the reality sets it, you're very much still in public. you look over her shoulder and quickly realize the people who had seen you screaming at each other moments ago can most definitely still see you now. you quickly push her off of you, readjusting your clothes as she stares at you in confusion. when you're done fixing yourself you point to the rest of the back yard in explanation.
she groans a little and you almost want to laugh at how frustrated she looks, her expression the same as a petulant child when you take away their favorite toy. you gently pull at her shirt and whisper “let’s just go back to your place,”
ellie has never been more happy to be sober as she drives you two back to her apartment in your car, a possessive hand resting on your upper thigh as she steers. the reality of what you're doing was starting to set in during the 15 minute drive. you think about telling her just to drive you home multiple times but when you go to stare at her the sight of her makes the words hang vacant in your mouth. why does she have to be so attractive?
she finds herself also sneaking glances at you during the ride. she didn't realized till then how much she missed the simplicity of your presence in the passenger seat. when you two were together previously you didn’t exactly go out on dates or anything. a typical night for you two was driving to a fast food place, fighting over the aux, making out in her car, going back to her place, smoking a little, and then ending off the night fucking. as much as she hated to admit it in the month you were apart she found herself longing for that routine again.
when you reach her apartment building as she moves to exit the car you feel yourself lingering in your seat for longer, contemplating stopping this for the last time. you stare up at the gray brick of her complex and remember how alone you felt exiting her building that day, your tears dampening the clothes you had taken back from her. although this memory should be be a reminder of how she hurt you, instead it makes you get up from your seat. you don't want that to be the last memory you had of here.
you make your way through the empty common place and soon reach her elevator. as soon as the metal doors shut her lips are on yours. you feel the cool metal of the elevator’s handrails pressing into your back as she pushes her body towards you. her hands are in your hair lightly tugging at the back of your head as you grasp onto her neck, wrapping your legs around hers. you hear the ding of the doors and she quickly grabs your hand to lead you to her place.
as soon as you're in her apartment doors she's pushing you towards the couch, articles of clothing coming off of the both of you as you make your way to the plush cushions. you're staring up at her the top half of you naked as she’s removing her shirt when the irony sets in. she's about to fuck you on the couch she had just dumped you on
you move to inch the rest of your dress which is gathered at your hips down when you feel her tug it off of you in one fast movement. she watches as your chest rises and falls once again but this time in anticipation. she quickly grips the back of the couch above you as she begins spreading your legs apart with one hand. you gasp as she reaches your panties, rubbing slow circles into them as she plants heavy kisses onto your neck.
after a few seconds your gasps intensify and she begins pulling the fabric down your legs, leaving your bottom half completely bare for her. your eyes grip shut in pleasure and shyness as she brings her hand back up against you. you feel her stop suddenly as she uses the hand previously resting on the couch to bring your face towards her.
“look up at me,” she firmly whispers as she resumes rubbing into you, her calloused fingers brushing up against your clit as you writhe in pleasure, now staring into her green heavy eyes. you feel her fingers slide into you slowly, quickening pace as you moan beneath her. your eyes follow her as she lowers herself towards you, using her other hand to grip your hips which were now moving with her fingers. you feel your orgasm beginning to build as she starts using her thumb to rub circles against your clit.
as you reach your peak you finally allow yourself to close your eyes, riding the high against her long fingers you had been fantasizing about since you saw her gripping her cup earlier in the night. once you finish she slowly pulls out of you, admiring you as you pant against her couch cushions. once your euphoria wears off theres an awkward pause. I should probably go.
“I-” you start but you’re quickly cut off by one of her hands raking through your hair, which was now slightly damp with sweat.
“let’s go to my bed i wanna taste you,” she whispers and then pushes herself off the couch towards her bedroom. fuck it
you follow
you awake the next morning and the only word that comes to your mind is fuck. you're laying completely bare and under ellie’s sheets, her back turned against you in a peaceful slumber.
why the fuck did i do that? what is wrong with me?
as you contemplate just how little self respect you seem to have you feel her shift beside you, facing you with a light smile. you hate how good she always looks in the mornings.
“morning,” she mumbles against your shoulder sleepily. you need to get out of there now. after a few moments you begin to sit up, gripping the sheets around your chest as you try to recall where you had flung all your clothes the night before. she's more awake now and staring at you.
“what’s up? do you wanna get bagels from that place across the street?” she asks, still examining your facial expressions trying to read what they mean. you used to go the bagel place all the time when you would stay at her place.
“ellie no,” you reply, rising from her bed and making your way towards the living room in search of your clothes. she quickly follows, throwing on a large shirt she had laying on the floor of her bedroom as she watches you in amusement while you're picking up your garments one by one across her apartment.
“why not?” she muses, the casualty of her voice driving you insane.
“because. this isn’t a thing,” you say, quickly throwing on your clothes and gesturing between the two of you. “this won’t happen again,”
“why not? you seemed to enjoy it last night?”
“that’s besides the point okay,” you snap back in exasperation, now frustrated and trying to find one of your shoes. “you’re not good for me. no actually you’re not good enough for me,” “and why is that?” she asks, not offended in the slightest bit which makes you even more angry.
“you fucking know why. you never have been. this has never been more than sex to you and i'm tired of it,” you spit out as you finally grab the missing shoe. that last part makes ellie pause. deep down she knows it's not just sex for her, and in fucked up way she's glad that you haven't picked up on that yet.
“oh don’t act like you’re above that, were you ever gonna talk to that girl you were all over on the couch last night or does the line only draw at casual sex when it comes to me?” she snaps back at you, no longer amused by the back and forth between you.
she's right, you weren’t planning on ever seeing that girl again. but what she didn’t realize was the fact that you were acting that way because of her. how could you be expected to commit to something when your last fling disposed of you like you were nothing?
“I’m leaving now. please don’t text me,”
she rolls her eyes at you as you make your way towards her door. “yeah sure. I’ll see you soon,”
you slam the door in her face, knowing it's probably true.
PART TWO
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natti-ice · 1 month
Text
Private Dance- Eddie Munson.
Pairing: Stripper!Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ mdni, stripping, alcohol consumption, oral sex on reader, p in v, unprotected sex, one night stand, like 2 uses of y/n I’m sorry😭 (2k words)
Author’s note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!
Reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated<3
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The dimly lit room vibrated from the song that blasted on the speakers at the DJ booth, the alcohol in your system had started to hit and you felt your stress start to leave your body.
Work had been hard for you the past few weeks, you were constantly trying to keep up with deadlines and had no time for yourself. Your friends had noticed that you really needed a break, they suggested you all go out to this new club that had just opened up. You weren't really into the club scene but you figured it wouldn't hurt to have a little fun.
You weren't one hundred percent sure but this didn't seem like a regular club, people were sitting in booths that faced an empty stage instead of being crowded on a big dancefloor. It was a little odd but you didn't think much of it. Most of the groups consisted of middle-aged women drunk off their asses, or young bachelorettes who were also drunk. You could tell from the happy yelling that happened every time a waiter came with more shots.
"Ladies if you'd please direct your attention to the stage, the show is about to begin" cheers immediately erupt from all the women in the room
The music changed to a more sensual song, you were a bit confused but intrigued as to what was about to happen. A man walked out on the stage, then another, then one more. The three men were missing their shirts, all the wore were dress pants and bow ties. That was when it hit you
I'm at a strip club.
The women screamed even louder as the three men began to dance provocatively, thrusting and gyrating to the music.
"You didn't tell me this was a strip club!" You yelled to your best friend who was also screaming for the men
"Sorry hon, this was the only way we knew you'd come" her apology wasn't that sincere since she was enjoying the show too much to care.
You weren't a prude, you just didn't see the appeal in these kinds of places, you didn't want to ruin your friends night so you didn't argue. You watched the show, trying your best to enjoy yourself. The men weren't ugly thankfully, all were fit and decent dancers, there was one who was different though.
He had long shaggy hair the others were clean cut, he had tattoos on his body and he didn't seem like he was trying to appease the crowd. He was just having fun. You watched him the entire performance
After a few minutes the song ended and the men came off the stage, each of them seemed to have different destinations. You were surprised when the long haired man came towards your table. You looked around at your friends to see if they were as confused as you but they all were giddy. Something was up.
"Hello ladies, how are we this evening?" He asked like a gentleman
"Good" your friends said in unison
"That's great to hear, now which one of you is y/n?" Immediately your heart started racing, why was he looking for you
"Ummm I am" you spoke, it sounded more like a question than a statement
"Are you ready for your private dance?"
Your eyes widened, you had no clue what he was talking about "sorry what?" You asked
He was also a bit confused, he looked around at your friends then back to you "sorry, I thought y/n was getting the dance"
"Oh no she is" your best friend pipped up, before leaning over to whisper in your ear "happy early birthday"
"You got me a stripper?" You whisper yelled
"I did, babe you need to loosen up a bit. Take your mind off of work, enjoy yourself" she said before lightly pushing you to get out of the booth. You stood to your feet, now eye to eye with the stripper
"Ready?" He asked
"Umhm" you swallowed
"Right this way" he said before lightly holding your arm to guide you toward the back of the club
You heard many things about these private dances, you knew how this was going to end. You were going to have sex with a stranger, you thankfully had enough alcohol in your system to not over think it.
"What's your name?" You questioned
"It's Eddie" he smiled
He has a very cute smile you thought
Once you two made it to the room he opened the door "ladies first" as he gestured you to walk in, you took a deep breath. It was happening.
He shut the door behind you, the music was muffled but still shook the room. You were nervous but excited, you had never done anything like this before, you had never been to a strip club before let alone receive a private dance from a stripper. 
The lighting was similar to the stage room, the room was furnished with a black leather love seat, a small boom box in the corner, and a round table with drink coasters. You stood in the middle of the room not quite sure what to do with yourself, he noticed your timid movements and placed a gentle hand on your lower back.
"Take a seat, love. No need to be nervous" his voiced calmed your nerves a bit as you followed his order.
He walks over to the boom box and looks through a few cassettes that sit on top
"Is it that obvious?" You ask with a light laugh to hide your embarrassment
"A little" he laughed, he found which tape he wanted and inserted it into the boom box "don't worry, I'll be gentle" he looked up at you and smirked
You heart started to beat a little harder than it was a few seconds ago, the music started playing a moment later, Eddie started to walk over to you. Nothing about him is threatening, his demeanor was friendly and inviting but also seductive. He started to feel the best of the music, moving his body the tempo and humming along. The light hit his body just right, he glistened from the thin layer of baby oil that covered his abdomen. He saw you staring.
Eddie grabbed one of your wrists and brought your hand up to his abs, you instinctively pulled your hand back.
"It's okay" he assures reaching for your hand once more "you can touch them" he lets go of your hand allowing you free rein of his body
You caress his warm skin, he was toned but not ripped, his dress pants were cut low enough his v was showing. You allowed your hands to travel further, mindlessly tracing the curves of his body. He laughed as he watched you enjoy yourself.
He slowly straddled you, your hand hold onto his waist as he caressed your neck. You started to feel a twitch between your legs as he touched you, you wanted to kiss him.
"Are you from around here?" He asked pulling you out of your daze
"Yeah, I don't live that far from here. You?" You replied
"Unfortunately" he laughed but you could tell he meant it "one day me and my band are gonna take off"
"You're in a band?" You asked a bit of excitement in your voice, he nods "that's hot" you whisper, a slight smirk on your face
You didn't know what came over you but you wanted him, bad.
"Oh yeah?" He asked playfully "well lucky for you, I'm yours all night"
He leaned down replacing his hands with his mouth, littering kisses all over your neck moving his way up, light moans left your mouth. He traveled to your ear nibbling on your lobe before he whispered "are you sure you want to do this?"
You knew what he was talking about and you knew you wanted it, "yes" you whispered back
He pulled back slightly before attaching his lips to yours, his lips were soft but his kisses were passionate, his cradled your face deepening the kiss. His free hand moved down to your shirt unfastening the buttons, pulling it off, and exposing your clothed breasts. He palmed one tit before reaching behind and unclasping your bra one handed.
He was a pro.
Once both of your tits were exposed, he stood up without breaking the kiss, he spread your legs a bit allowing him to kneel in front of you.
He broke the kiss and started trailing kisses down your body, you caught your breath as he took one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking.
You moaned at the sensitivity of your nipples, you felt yourself becoming wet as thoughts of him fucking you played in your head. After giving your tits the attention they deserve, he continues kissing down your body.
Once he's at your pants, he unbuttons them and slowly starts pulling the down, he doesn't break eye contact in case you want him to stop. After he gets your pants off your left in just your panties and heels. He pulls you forward so your ass was at the edge of the loveseat, he starts kissing your inner thigh, this sends tingles up your spine. He hovers over your clothed cunt, his warm breath excites you before he begins kissing the other thigh.
You were becoming impatient, you wanted him to touch you so bad. You squirmed as he got further away from your pussy. He chuckled into you leg,
"No need to rush sweetheart, we have all night" he finally made his way back to your cunt. He kissed up and down, your panties became soaked as he used his tongue to tease you. You let a few moans slip, you didn't want to be too loud. Not everyone needed to know you were fucking.
He took two fingers and ran them under your panties, his finger grazed your clit making you gasp slightly, he pulled the fabric to the side before licking your clit. His tongue was heavenly, it was like he knew exactly what you liked. He went to town on your pussy, he ate it like it was his last meal. You gripped his hair when you felt yourself getting close
"I’m g-gonna cum" you breathed out you tried to contain yourself, your legs wrapped around his body as he increased his motions. He circled your clit a few more times before you reached your high, he hummed into your pussy as your cum filled his mouth.
He finally came up for air, he stood up in front of you and you could see his erection through his pants, he was not lacking at all. He pulled you in for a kiss as he ripped your panties off, he rubbed himself through his pants before pulling them off. You tasted yourself on his tongue, your juices covered his face.
"Get on your stomach" he ordered
You did as he said, you laid on the couch and put your ass in the air. He got behind you, he took his dick and rubbed it up and down your throbbing pussy.
Before he put it in he bent down toward your face and said "you can be as loud as you want baby, no one will hear". He slowly pushed himself into your entrance, he moaned as your tight cunt took his dick. He began thrusting in and out, you already felt pure pleasure. No one you had sex with before did it like him. He gripped your waist as he quicken his pace, he wasn't quiet and neither were you. Both of your moans filled the room, it was pure euphoria that you had never experienced.
You had become so lost in your pleasure, you lost count of how many times you came, you forgot where you were and had no idea what time it was. You knew it was all about to be over because you heard
"Ah fuck" Eddie said as he pulled out, his warm cum shot all over your back. Your body was weak, he had fucked you so hard most of your limbs had gone numb. You both took your time recovering from the amazing sex you just had, you wondered if you'd ever see him again.
If you did, would this happen again?
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callmeby-mylastname · 3 months
Text
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Just a Fuck
summary-she was everything and clearly you were nothing.
warnings-angsty, tara low-key toxic. shitty ass writing. swearing.
A/N- i’m gonna be honest i made this up as i went it’s complete garbage💀it’s also rushed to hell but enjoy.
part 2
12 missed calls
you had rang her 12 times in the past hour, sent countless texts and yet not a single reply.
You weren’t surprised maybe a little worried but definitely not surprised. She was ignoring you and at some random douche bags party.
You and tara weren’t exactly dating but at the same time you wouldn’t call it friends. You and tara started this regime one drunken night, pushing the boundary of friend and lover.
And as much as it made you two closer because at this point it was more than fucking; it was stolen glances, her paying attention to your favourite movies or songs, picking you up little gifts cause they reminded her of you.
It also made you drift, you were just her little secret. You didn’t mind, really you didn’t if it meant having tara you’d move countries to keep yourself a secret. It hurt a lot a little sometimes but whenever you would bring it up she’d deny you two weren’t just fucking, that, that’s all it was and it would cause a big argument so you kept quiet.
That was until around 10pm this afternoon, leading to tara storming out and ignoring you.
Calling it a night you got on a change of clothes ready for bed when you heard your apartment door.
glancing towards your phone clock reading 3:42.
You peaked through the peaking hole to see a very drunk and disheveled tara, you let out a sigh unlocking the door and opening it.
She gave you her best grin passing you a “i missed you” and waltzing into the apartment immediately making a beeline towards your bedroom.
“Tara, where have you been? you’ve been ignoring me now you show up to my apartment drunk and unannounced” you follow after her.
“Hmm? stop acting all surprised you were the one who pushed me out” she looked angrier now, tension began to fill the room and there was only way this was ending.
“How did I push YOU out? YOU left remember?” you explained. “Its’s not my fault you’re clingy and constantly need me around, god i wish you’d give me space sometimes” shes shouting now, pointing in your direction
“It’s constantly, tara come over or tara why can’t i meet your friends or your sister, tara,tara,tara. God do you ever shut up and consider maybe you really are just a fuck?” she was looking at you, dead in the eyes.
For a brief second you saw the regret flash across her eyes but you’re too busy trying not to show her how much she just hurt you.
“Get out” it wasn’t meant to come out as bitter as it did but hey she deserved it?
“Y/N… i-“
“Out”.
And like a puppy with its tail in between it’s legs she left. Her apartment was in the same complex as yours which is coincidentally how you two met, so she would make it home safe.
Yeah she hurt you but doesn’t mean you would wish any danger upon her.
With the sound of the door closing you fall onto your bed letting your tears fall.
You truly sobbed that night. You loved tara and for her to shove everything back in your face.
To know she was everything to you yet you were nothing to her, hurt like a bitch.
You cried yourseld to sleep thay night and a good few nights after that.
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sunkendreams · 6 months
Text
SIDELINES.
you haven’t seen jesse pinkman since high school — and he’s the last person you ever expected to connect with. however, times have changed — and so have you.
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part 1. | part 2. | part 3. | part 4. | part 5.
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༄ PAIRING. | jesse pinkman x [female] reader.
༄ FORMAT. | one-shot, multi-part — not requested.
༄ WORD COUNT. | 9.6K.
༄ WARNINGS. | drug use, references to substance use/addiction, past jane/jesse, emotional trauma/hurt, jesse’s internalized hatred/guilt, acquaintances to lovers, smoking, smut, smut with plot, making out, dirty talk, breast play, cunnilingus, hair pulling, bottom!jesse, riding, morning sex, aftercare.
༄ AUTHOR’S NOTE. | I don’t know where I’m getting these ideas, but I have a lot of projects in the works right now. Some are horror-related and some aren’t. Honestly, I’m just happy to be writing again no matter what the content is. Thank you guys for your continued support & love. I couldn’t do it without you all! Peace! ☺️
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The scent of marijuana, pungent smoke, and a toxic amalgamation of sweat and AXE body spray wafted throughout the house, music jacked up so loud that it made your ears ring. You remained at your perch, stuffed along the wall of a stranger’s house while your friends got stoned in another room.
You were dragged to this party out of sheer loyalty to your friends and a boredom that outweighed anything else. Regret rippled through you, nose stinging from the foul smells that hung like a noxious haze in the living room. The drink you clutched within one hand was watered-down, tiny slivers of ice swirling around within the cup.
Some mediocre hip-hop song blasted throughout the house, bass loud enough to shake the very foundation — you were thoroughly surprised that the police hadn’t been called in for a noise complaint.
Grey wisps of smoke drifted in your direction, and you swatted at it with a wrinkled nose. It wasn’t your typical scene — the sort of party, at least. Partying was something you were accustomed to — harmless college parties with drinks and weed, but this was something else.
There were people snorting lines of cocaine off of a glass coffee table, and you swore that one person had passed out entirely in the kitchen. A strange sensation crawled across your flesh — a feeling that you weren’t exactly meant to be here. Your friends had driven you down here, but you were prepared to take your chances with walking home.
“Wanna hit?” A man asked you, gsze half-lidded, lips curled into a less than attractive smile. He propositioned you with a jerk of his head, motioning toward the thin line of fine, white powder sitting along the coffee table.
“No thanks.” You waved one hand in dismiss, weaving through the crowds to retrieve another drink. The kitchen was destroyed, ravaged by strangers with little respect for the home. Debris, trash, and the remnants of marijuana were everywhere. You nearly stepped on broken glass.
It felt like an out-of-body experience — as if you were simply a spectator, an observer who watched the chaos around you. You didn’t thrive or revel within it — you were indifferent. The vices of your friends differed greatly from your own, to quite an extreme degree.
As you watched the swarm of people, all huddled together within the living room, the air became stifling and stuffy, as if it threatened to suffocate you altogether. They reminded you of zombies — barely moving in one place, all drugged-out from whatever concoction of pills and illicit substances were available at this party.
You silently slipped outside, abandoning your drink somewhere on the windowsill as you stepped out into the cool night breeze. You inhaled, greedily drinking in the crisp freshness of dusk, hands roaming over your thin cardigan as you began to shuffle to the edge of the porch.
Moonlight pooled through the wispy clouds as they fluttered through the night — everything was so much quieter outside. The thumping of the bass had diminished, and the skunk-like scent had dissipated altogether.
The door opened behind you, a figure slinking out onto the porch a few feet away from you. “Hey.”
It was somewhat unfamiliar until you’d actually glanced over your shoulder, gaze landing upon a most familiar face — Jesse Pinkman. The two of you made eye contact; Jesse’s face blossomed with a subtle realization.
“Holy shit,” You let out a bark of a laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Jesse Pinkman, right? You went to J.P Wynne.” You hadn’t seen Jesse Pinkman since high school graduation — you distinctly remembered his social circle.
Jesse recognized you sometime during the midst of the party — a true wallflower, despite your popularity in junior high. It surprised him to see a girl like you at one of his drug-laden festivities, but then again, life was full of surprises. He looked tired, skin pale and eyes baggy as he leaned against one of the columns.
“Yeah,” Perusing his pockets, he fished out a cigarette, placing it between his lips. “You were one of the Honor Society members, right?” Jesse recalled your stellar academics and social standing — his polar opposite.
You made a face, keeping your arms folded across your abdomen. “Yeah.” Admittedly, Jesse wasn’t exactly someone you were friends with in high school. Cordial was a good word for it — your parents never would have allowed you to hang out with someone like him, anyway. “We were in Mr. White’s chemistry classes together.”
Upon mentioning Walter White, Jesse stiffened slightly, feigning innocence as he cracked a thin-lipped smile. “Jesus,” He exhaled, reaching for his lighter. “It’s been awhile.”
There was a prevalent exhaustion that hung within his eyes, a loneliness that almost felt tangible within that moment. He avoided eye contact with you at-times, hands fidgeting when you stepped closer.
“It has.” You paused, rubbing your palms across your arms. Despite the acrid heat that New Mexico produced during the day, the temperatures dropped drastically at night. You shivered, a delicate smile creeping across your features. “Did the party get a little boring for you, too?”
He’d forgotten about you a little bit — forgotten about just how beautiful you were. You’d only gotten prettier, too. Jesse felt the sting of sheepishness and inferiority that came with being around someone like you — a good person, someone with responsibilities and respectable morals. You weren’t a criminal — you hadn’t killed somebody.
Jesse almost felt as if he shouldn’t be speaking to you, but he pressed on. “I guess. Needed some air, you know?” He noticed your constant shivering, prompting him to remove the baggy, black jacket he wore. “You cold?” He asked, gesturing toward the garment he carried.
“Oh,” Warmth crept along your flesh, brows knitting together as you shook your head. “You don’t have to do that, Jesse.” It was a thoughtful gesture, something you didn’t expect, but you were freezing and the dress wasn’t doing you any favors.
“Nah, go ahead. Might smell like cigarettes, though.” Jesse forewarned, tucking one hand underneath his arm. The long-sleeved Henley he wore was more than enough for him.
You thanked him, slipping into his hooded zip-up. He wasn’t exactly incorrect — it did smell of cigarette smoke intermingled with the cologne he wore. You didn’t mind, though.
Silence drifted between the two of you, awkward enough to make you uncomfortable as you fished around for your cellphone. Minutes ticked by without a word. Jesse appeared to be a little nervous, and you wondered if it had anything to do with you.
There was a string of texts from your friends inquiring about your whereabouts. It was a little after ten o’clock, and you fully intended on walking home. “It was nice seeing you, Jesse. I hope you’re doing well.” You cleared your throat. “I’m going to head home.”
Jesse opened his mouth to speak, lips fumbling around the unlit cigarette. Surely, you didn’t want to talk to him — Christ, he was practically a stranger. It felt cruel of him not to offer to give you a ride home, or something like that.
“Hey, uh,” Jesse cleared his throat, clamoring after you. “I can give you a ride home. Could be stalkers or crazy people around.” His reasoning was weak, but it seemed to resonate with you, oddly enough. He felt strange — he barely knew you outside of what he perceived in high school.
You knew that Jesse had gotten in trouble with the law in school — everyone knew. Gossip was prevalent at J.P Wynne. Part of you screamed to refuse, to politely decline and endure the lengthy trek home, but a sliver of you wanted to accept, to indulge in your curiosity.
Jesse had always been kind to you in the very rare, occasional interaction you’d had with him. He hadn’t given you any reason not to trust him. It was a nice change of company — refreshing, almost. There was a clean slate between the two of you.
Your shoulders slouched and sluggishly lifted in a weak shrug as you rubbed your hands together. “You don’t mind? It’s on Nauman Drive, past downtown.” A decent drive, for sure — a half an hour or more. You expected him to reject you given the distance.
“Nauman?” It was a nice area, he knew that much. “Yeah, I don’t mind. You care if I smoke?” Jesse inquired, gesturing around toward the garage. He didn’t care about the house — it almost seemed to fade away into the background. He needed a break, time to think.
“Go ahead.” You trailed after Jesse, following him toward the paved stretch of driveway. A 1984 Toyota Tercel sat, red paint beginning to fade and show signs of weathering. It was beat-up, but certainly held a bit of rugged appeal.
Jesse awkwardly shuffled to open the passenger door, and you thanked him, sinking down into the felt seats. The car smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap air fresheners, but it was tidy and clean inside. You placed your purse down onto the floorboard in front of you.
Blowing a pillar of smoke into the air, Jesse hastily finished his cigarette, fingers beginning to quiver as he opened the driver’s side. He hadn’t really spent time with a girl since Jane — but you didn’t remind him of her whatsoever. There were many qualities you possessed that certainly contrasted from her, not that it was a bad thing.
“Do you live here?” You asked, head canting to one side. There were other cars scattered around the block and parked on the street, but his happened to be the only vehicle in the driveway.
“Uh,” Jesse glanced at you, absentmindedly wetting his lower lip. “Yeah, I do.” He turned the key forward, car rumbling and puffing to life. “Bought the house months ago — used to be my Aunt’s.” He clarified, wondering if you would ask about the obscene amount of drugs.
“You don’t think it’ll burn down while you’re gone?” You questioned, lips twitching into a thin smile as you rolled down the passenger window, letting your elbow rest up against the ledge.
Jesse let out a huff of laughter, and shrugged his shoulders. He began to back up, rolling out onto the empty roads. “It’s been through worse shit.” His wry statement only made your smile flicker again, but he vehemently focused on driving instead.
You felt the barrier melt a bit at that — it was comforting to know that the two of you didn’t have to behave like complete strangers. Silence simmered again, settling between the both of you as he concentrated on finding something on the radio. It served as suitable background noise.
“What are you doing nowadays?” You avoided the topic of the party — it wasn’t worth mentioning. A cool breeze whipped through the car as he began to drive, causing goosebumps to prickle along your shoulders.
“I don’t know,” Jesse confessed, cerulean hues flickering in your direction. “Drifting, I guess.” It was the first time where he’d revealed a sliver of his true feelings. The parties were a worthwhile distraction — soulless events where he could find solace in all of the chaos surrounding him. “Shit, it’s a long story.” His laughter was shaky.
“You don’t have to do a full confession, Jesse.” You reassured, playfully prodding at your cardigan. “I’m not wearing a wire.” With a gentle exhale, your tone softened as he pulled out onto the highway. It was almost soothing — driving back home with somebody you never expected to see again.
Jesse laughed at that, running a hand across his disheveled hair, and then planting it against the back of his neck. The support groups he’d been attending didn’t work — there was no comfort he’d been able to find.
Everything felt like some massive distraction from the root of the problem — the residual pain he was dealing with from Jane, from Gale. His heart hammered within his chest, and he looked at you again. Oddly enough, your nonchalant behavior and lack of judgment would’ve been enough for him to spill in a different setting.
“Hey, what about you? What are you doing these days?” Jesse immediately shifted the focus away from him. He was far more interested in what you had to say than his own life. Besides, it would pull him out of his own head for a little while.
The inquiry was unexpected but not unwelcome, causing you to adjust yourself within the passenger seat. “Oh,” You cleared your throat. “I’m in college at the University of New Mexico. I’m still trying to figure out what I’d like to study — getting basics out of the way. I work at a cafe.”
Normal, uneventful, peaceful — Jesse envied you.
You were achieving something mundane yet safe, something that he wished he would’ve done long ago. Maybe things wouldn’t have happened in the way that they did. His countenance became a touch forlorn, but it wasn’t the time to become mournful over the past. He couldn’t go back, not anymore.
“Yeah, that’s …” He nodded, attempting to conjure the right words to say. “That’s good, really good. You know you could do anything you wanted. You were always really smart and shit.” Jesse replied, gaze hyperfocused upon the road as headlights raced past.
You could detect that Jesse was holding something back — that minuscule flicker of pain had crossed over his visage before being forced to dissipate. Your eyebrows furrowed together, and you reached over, gently prodding at his shoulder.
“Hey,” You began, tone laced with concern. “Are you okay?”
Jesse felt his heart constrict within his chest, wisps of air stolen from his lungs. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked that — and genuinely meant it. It wasn’t out of obligation, that was easy to tell. He felt his throat grow thick, but he staved off any tears.
“Yeah.” It was a blatant lie, spoken through a clenched jaw. He nearly winced when you touched his shoulder, feeling as if he were souring the mood entirely. “Just, uh … You know, going to therapy and rehab right now. It’s been tough.” A very threadbare half-truth, but it was enough to placate you.
“Oh.” A warmth crept into your voice as you withdrew, countenance softening as you sank back into the passenger seat. “That’s understandable, Jesse. I’m sorry.” You replied, tucking strands of hair behind your ear as you looked out the window again.
Albuquerque was a sprawling city, and as the two of you neared the nicer end, Jesse knew that Nauman was only ten minutes away. He didn’t want to go back to the party anymore — but it might’ve been the best option. If he stayed with you, he knew the pain it would cause. He feared losing people — it was present all the time, a nagging dread that never stopped.
“Don’t be sorry,” Jesse interjected, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. “Did that shit to myself, you know?” Addiction was behind him. He rarely participated anymore — he was just a silent observer, fueling everyone else’s vices while he withered away. What kind of a life was that?
You canted your head to one side, lips parting slightly as you spoke. “Jesse, that’s not entirely your fault. You can’t blame yourself for your environment or circumstances out of your control.” You were right — but he made the choice to shoot Gale, and he made the choice to shoot up with Jane before she died.
He was silent, feeling the sensation of tears swimming within his gaze. Jesse didn’t want to even remotely consider crying in front of you — he barely knew you. Instead, he focused on the road, taking the exit towards Albuquerque Studios. Nauman wasn’t very far away.
You couldn’t recall the last time you’d had a conversation with someone else that was this raw and vulnerable. Jesse’s discomfort was palpable and very real to you, and you felt horrible. Your countenance glistened with concern, brows furrowing together.
After the exit, Jesse drove onto Nauman Drive. There were rows of beautiful, lavish houses and apartment complexes, ones that he probably could’ve bought with the dealing money. He was blowing it all away right now on drugs for the parties — he was beginning to ask himself ‘why?’
“My apartment is at the end of the drive.” Your voice had softened, hands planted within your lap as he followed your directions. It was a smaller apartment complex but much nicer, your driveway occupied by your vehicle.
Jesse pulled up along the curb — it was eerily silent, aside from the cacophony of crickets that provided a steady ambience, and the occasional bark of a dog. He put the car in park, still gripping the steering wheel. “You got a nice place.” He murmured, a halfhearted attempt to shift the conversation to something else.
“Hey,” After unbuckling your seatbelt, you leaned over the center console, palm resting over his hand, the one that was strangling the wheel of the car. “Why don’t you come inside? I can make you coffee or something and you can just space out for a little while. We don’t even have to talk.”
The offer was generous — admittedly, Jesse wondered if it would benefit him in any way. If he could just lay on your couch, decompress, let the emotion off of his chest. He didn’t care about the state of the house — he didn’t care about anybody at that party. What he did care about, however, was you, and how you made him feel.
It was as if the invisibility he’d been safely floating in for so long was shattered, but there was someone who could actually see him — see the veil he’d been maintaining for this whole time. His gaze finally flickered toward you, who appeared genuinely concerned for him.
You were good — truly good.
There wasn’t an ounce of maliciousness or an underlying agenda. You didn’t smoke, you hadn’t touched drugs, you were in college with a steady, normal job that never got you involved with the wrong people. Jesse knew what he’d be putting you through if he let this drag out for too long. If he fucked up, people could hurt you.
“Listen,” Jesse swallowed, palm planted against the back of his neck. “You’re really sweet, okay? You’re nice,” He wanted to word it in a way that wouldn’t hurt your feelings. “I just — I can’t. I’m not in a good spot right now. I don’t wanna drag you down with me.” That sounded fair, didn’t it?
You could accept that.
If it had something to do with the drugs, which you assumed that it was, then you understood that he was trying to protect you. You wanted to encourage him to try, but the last thing you wanted to do was pressure someone in a fragile state.
“Okay, Jesse.” You hesitated, pressing your tongue against the inside of your cheek. “I just want you to know that you're not alone. If you need someone, I’m here for you. I know that there was a wedge in high school, but I don’t see any reason why we couldn’t reconnect.” You shrugged, popping open the passenger side door.
As you stepped outside, you made sure to remove his jacket, draping it over the center console as you shut the door. Jesse didn’t say anything as you rounded the car — he was biting his finger, eyes squeezing shut as you made the short trek toward your front door. It felt like an eternity until you’d actually gotten inside.
Jesse exhaled, hands trembling as he hastily wiped away straggling tears that he’d been withholding during the span of the whole drive. Part of him knew that he could use a positive influence like you in his life, but the danger that lurked around him, the cloud of loss, he was afraid that you’d become lost in all of that, too.
The deliberation between going back to his house and biting the bullet to stay with you was a tedious process. He sat out in the car for a long time — he was surprised that you hadn’t come back outside asking why he was sitting there with his head pressed against the steering wheel.
When he finally made the choice to go up to your door, the walk felt like a lengthy, eternal drag. Jesse rocked forward, pressing his hands against his face as he composed himself. Back in high school, he was suave — much more of a charmer. Nowadays, he felt incompetent, but it was largely due to an amalgamation of nerves and drug use.
He knocked a few times, skin crawling with a nervous sensation, but there was something exciting about it, too. You were familiar yet new, a breath of fresh air that he desperately needed. Jesse watched as the door opened, and there you were.
“Hey, uh,” Jesse stuck his hands into his pockets, rocking back upon his heels. “Is the offer still on the table?” He’d ask, and your lips split into a gentle yet bemused smile.
“Of course.” You’d changed into your pajamas — a baggy, oversized graphic t-shirt and cotton shorts that were dwarfed by your top. “Did you want to watch a movie? I was about to start Watchmen.”
Jesse watched as you stepped aside to invite him in, closing the door behind him and latching the lock. You had a weird itch for security, especially at night. “Yeah, that sounds cool.” He replied, having a look around.
Your apartment was tidy and very cozy, with a rather comforting aesthetic and atmosphere. Jesse felt a little more relaxed, wandering around in the small living room. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the plush sofa, scattered with throw blankets and pillows.
As you prepared coffee, you wondered what changed his mind. It was a question that would likely nag at you until you asked. You understood being lonely — aside from the occasional hangout with your friends, you lived alone.
“Make yourself at home,” You chimed, weaving around the coffee table to place your steaming mugs down, settling into the couch. Jesse sat a comfortable distance away, arm slung over the back of the sofa. “What changed your mind?”
Your question caught him off-guard, but he wanted to be transparent with you. He owed you that much, especially after talking to him — after this, after everything. “I knew that I’d be miserable if I went back,” He shrugged. “I don’t wanna keep being miserable.” Loneliness also played a factor in this, but he didn’t really want to own up to it just yet.
“I understand,” You began, tucking one knee toward your chest as you played the movie. Admittedly, it served as better background noise than anything else. “I’m glad you came over.” Your lips split into a soft smile.
Jesse hesitated, glancing over at you as he stayed silent. He was most definitely drinking you in, gaze subtly raking you over as you took a sip of your coffee. For a moment, he envisioned this — getting close to you, hanging out with you, just getting to be himself, or as close as he could get again.
“I’m glad, too.” Jesse confessed, rubbing at the back of his head. He nearly shriveled at the eye contact you made with him, but he maintained it instead, lips twitching into a faint smile.
You nudged your drink back onto the wooden table, wordlessly slinking closer to Jesse until you were curled up beside him. The silence simmered with something else, perhaps a crackle of affection. Your gaze glistened with a peculiar softness, flickering between the movie and him.
Admittedly, this was the last thing Jesse expected — but that didn’t stop him from wanting it to happen. Once you initiated, he decided to meet you halfway, draping his arm around you, cheek pressed against the top of your head.
He’d been craving something like this for a while now. Jane left a void — a massive, gaping wound that he feared wouldn’t heal, but now? Maybe there was an end in sight — maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Jesse relaxed, sinking into you as you cuddled up with him.
Your hands intertwined, fingers brushing together until they joined. Just like Jesse, you were chasing after the sensation of touch, chasing after that feeling of fulfillment — no more loneliness. You’d been dealing with it for a long while, trying to manage the sea of emotions, and this was a nice break from that.
“I understand feeling miserable,” You murmured, head resting comfortably against his collarbone. “Sometimes it feels like you’re alone out on a raft, in the middle of the ocean.”
Jesse’s jaw tightened, but there was a mutual sense of empathy and understanding within your words. That was how he felt oftentimes — just himself, attempting to stay afloat. He didn’t say anything, but he did caress your knuckles with his thumb as a form of acknowledgment.
As the movie progressed, the two of you occasionally made small talk, but you were a little engrossed by the film, and so was he. It was comforting to just be near him — let him hold you, keep it light with gentle touches and whatnot.
It wasn’t until halfway through the movie that Jesse cleared his throat, glancing down at you with exhausted eyes. “Thanks for this,” He murmured, absentmindedly wetting his lower lip. “Would you wanna do it again? Like, uh … Hanging out, or something?” He was intent on cleaning up his place, now.
“Yeah,” You replied, twisting within his hold enough to peer up at him. “I would.” There was something special about this — perhaps a feeling of renewal, of starting something with someone you never expected. You had a feeling that Jesse needed a little bit of support, and you didn’t mind providing that.
“Shit,” Jesse breathed through a soft laugh, visibly bewildered yet pleased by your answer. “Okay.” He didn’t expect that from you — he didn’t expect anything, really.
The both of you were smiling, now. Watchmen dissipated into the background once more, simply serving as ambience as the two of you nestled together. “Okay.” You parroted, lips curling into a lopsided smile as Jesse gathered his bearings.
You had little time to fully comprehend his next actions — he moved inward, cerulean hues dropping from your face to your mouth. Everything about this screamed sudden and intense, but you didn’t care. He tasted like cigarette smoke and spearmint gum — he had a very sweet kiss.
Jesse inhaled, relaxing into you, careening right into the warmth of your body. Every fiber of his being felt electrified, and he became so incredibly nervous — he hadn’t done this since Jane. He didn’t want her death to tarnish the moment, but it was inevitable.
He pulled away, opening his mouth to speak, yet nothing emerged. Words turned to ash upon his tongue, dying then and there as he hung his head, fingers toying with yours.
It wasn’t difficult to tell that he was struggling with this — you didn’t want to pry, but you didn’t want him to feel obligated, either. “Hey,” You murmured, dragging one hand toward his face, fingertips grazing over his stubbled jaw. “What’s wrong?” It was written all over his countenance, this underlying sense of pain.
“Nothing, just …” Jesse shivered when your palm cupped his jaw, shamelessly leaning into the sensation you left behind from your hand. “I just don’t wanna leave.” It sounded so pathetic — he didn’t want to go back home to a drug-laden pit.
Your lips twitched into a faint smile. “Is that it?” You left it open-ended, attempting to stay on the side of not being invasive or pushy. You wanted him to be comfortable.
Jesse huffed, idly tracing the pad of his thumb across the delicate plane of your knuckles. “Nah,” He admitted, cerulean hues flickering toward your face. “Haven’t really done this in awhile.” Telling you the visceral, painful truth would’ve been too much for him, so he settled on something else, something superficial.
“What, kissing?” You teased, keeping it mellow and lighthearted before he shook his head. “If it’s any reassurance, I haven’t done anything, either. Don’t feel like it’s just you.” With a soft sigh, you watched as Jesse leaned back just an inch or two, head craned to rest against your couch.
There was something forlorn about him, a light aura of melancholy that swirled around his being. You didn’t want to ask, but you couldn’t help but wonder what happened. You were able to look past that — he was attractive. You’d always thought that he was handsome.
“You, uh … You mind if we do it again?” Jesse asked, head cocked to one side. He was some amalgamation of sheepishness and a suave charm, smile somewhat feeble as he held your hand.
“I don’t mind.” You replied, but before he could lean in again, you had something on your mind. “Jesse?”
Jesse stooped closer, forehead nearly pressed against yours. “Yeah?”
“Would it help if you stayed tonight?” Whatever was plaguing him, being alone around drugs was the last thing he needed. You didn’t mind him staying the night — you didn’t mind whatever came with that, too.
He remained silent for a few moments, and immediately felt as if he should say no — and against his own inner turmoil, he wanted to be with you. He didn’t care if the house was a mess or if it had been reduced to nothing — he’d rather stay here with you.
“I don’t wanna disturb the peace,” Jesse began, nose wrinkling slightly when you rolled your eyes. “I can crash on the couch.” Admittedly, that sliver of him that was desperate for affection also wanted to sleep with you, but it was only polite to keep his distance until you said otherwise.
“You’re not disturbing anything. Promise.” You reassured, fingers creeping toward the nape of his neck as you tilted forward. “I want you to stay.” You uttered, your own desire for fulfillment and company mirrored his own want to not be alone.
Part of him really wished you hadn’t said that — but once the gate was open, Jesse couldn’t stop himself, and neither could you. His gaze fell to your lips, thumb briefly caressing your jaw until the two of you were colliding into one another.
Jesse kissed you again, compassionate and borderline needy, hand dropping to grasp at the curve of your hip. His free hand still remained tangled with yours, eyes fluttering shut as you shuffled forward, partially planted within his lap. It was enough to make him forget about the downward spiral he was on, and it was as if the plummeting had ceased — for now.
You didn’t know where this would lead, but that was the exhilarating part about it. The uncertainty and the newfound territory that was Jesse Pinkman elated you. Maybe this was what you needed; he was what you needed — you needed a fresh start.
“Hey, uh,” Jesse whispered against your mouth, fingers teasing the hem of your baggy shirt, grazing over your thigh. “Where we going with this?” It was spoken with compassion and concern, out of total thoughtfulness for you. Maybe you didn’t want to sleep with a junkie — he couldn’t blame you.
“I think I know where I’d like to go,” You confessed, head canting to one side. “Where do you want to go?” You asked, idly trailing your digits through his hair. You noticed the subtle bobbing of his Adam’s apple, accompanied by a peculiar sheen within his eyes.
If it was something serious that you were after, Jesse was unsure if he even had that capability. After Jane, it almost seemed to shatter — fall apart. Maybe it didn’t have to be that way forever. Perhaps, there was a light at the end of the tunnel for the two of you.
Instead of recoiling, Jesse held you closer, wordlessly ushering you into his lap, palm splayed out underneath your shirt, resting soundly at the curve of your hip. “I just,” He hesitated, completely enamored by you — you were beautiful. “I don’t know if I can be what you need right now.” He admitted.
You respected him all the more for his candor, hands coming to rest at the nape of his neck. You decided to kiss him, slow and steady, tilting to one side for something deeper. When you withdrew, your lips twitched into a smile. “I’m patient.” With that conclusion alone, Jesse relaxed.
He felt a bit of pressure relinquish itself from him, like a weight being removed from his chest. Jesse was worried that you’d want something serious, something strict off the bat. He didn’t intend on sleeping around, but he was afraid of disappointing you more than anything.
Given the implication of your interactions, Jesse had something on his mind — he figured that the feeling was mutual.
Jesse remained quiet for a moment, pressing a sweet kiss against your jaw, and then another to your neck. “Where’s your room?” He murmured, nearly shuddering in delight when you absentmindedly tugged on his hair.
“Come on.” Reluctantly, you removed yourself from his lap, taking ahold of his hand as you led him down the short corridor towards your bedroom. It was, as Jesse expected, lavishly-decorated and aesthetically pleasing. It far outweighed the dump he was living in.
“Cute.” Jesse couldn’t help but comment, lips twitching into a smile as he observed your choice of style and the many pillows piled up on top of your mattress. Admittedly, it all felt so cozy and welcoming — it even smelled good.
With a playful roll of your eyes, you watched as Jesse nudged the door closed. The both of you were swallowed by the lower, dim lighting of your bedroom, slivers of orange encompassing your scantily-clad frame.
He pressed closer, hands roaming across your body, one palm gently slipping underneath the hem of your shirt to brazenly grab at your ass. Locked in another heated kiss, your hands moved to push his jacket away, draping across his shoulders.
The sensation of your fingers roaming through his hair was enough to make his knees weak, a low groan resonating within his throat. You tasted sweet, like the twang of strawberry chapstick and the citrus seltzer you’d been drinking at the party. Jesse kissed you again, greedily this time, one hand cupping the curve of your hip.
As the two of you fell onto your bed in a feverish heap of limbs and mouths, you withdrew for a moment, getting yourself adjusted. You prepared to remove your shirt until you saw Jesse laying there, eyes half-lidded. Exhaustion was scrawled into his face, as if it were a permanent feature.
“Are you tired?” You asked, more concerned about his state of wellbeing. You were getting hot and bothered, but your own desire could be put on hold for a little while.
Jesse appeared embarrassed, but with the bags underneath his eyes and the perpetual state of tiredness that hung around him, he couldn’t lie to you. “Yeah,” He chewed at the inside of his cheek. “Shit, this feels pathetic. I’m practically blue-balling myself.” He mused, and it made you giggle.
“It’s not pathetic, Jesse.” You reassured, opting to climb into bed and make yourself comfortable. Jesse kicked off his shoes, following suit until he was resting at your side, arms tangled around you. “You look like you’re seconds away from crashing. I think we can put sex aside for now.”
Begrudgingly, he felt you cuddle against him, head near his collarbone as he made himself comfortable with you. His erection happened to push into your rump throughout, but before you could make a playful comment about it, his breathing had steadied.
“Jesse?” You whispered, receiving no response. He was most definitely asleep, and you confirmed this by simply rolling over. His expression was cast into one of bliss, still clutching onto you even through slumber. You sank back down with a smile, and decided to sleep, too.
Slivers of dawn’s first light trickled through the gossamer curtains — faint enough not to draw any attention, but enough to signal to Jesse that it was early in the morning. He’d stayed the night, and even then, it didn’t seem real.
You were asleep at his side, still nestled against him, but beginning to stir. Jesse couldn’t tell if it was because you were really waking up, or because his hard-on was protruding into you. He remembered last night — kissing you before he’d fallen asleep.
It wasn’t one of his smoothest moments — not by a long shot.
“Hey,” As the haze of grogginess began to lift, you were elated to find Jesse — still in your bed, and still next to you. Even being disheveled from sleep, Jesse found you to be astoundingly gorgeous. There was perfection to you that he wanted to drown himself inside of. “You’re here.” You smiled.
“Did you think I ditched or something?” He asked, arm draped around you as you shook off the feeling of slumber. Admittedly, part of you thought he’d wake up and leave, but he proved you wrong.
“A little bit,” You confessed, feeling his hand trace idle patterns into the dip of your waist. You wriggled closer, pressing a soft kiss against his stubbled jaw. “But I’m glad you didn’t.” It was complete and utter bliss, waking up with him — it was the last thing you expected, but you could get used to it.
Jesse huffed, hand dragging from your waist to your face, palm cupping your cheek as he caressed your jaw with his thumb. “Nah,” He smiled this time, cerulean eyes boring into you, becoming lost in the mere presence of you. “Didn’t even cross my mind, if I’m being honest.”
You smiled, eyelashes fluttering in rapid succession before you planted a sloppy, slower kiss against his lips. “What crossed your mind instead?” You asked, careening into the sensation of his palm cradling your face.
Jesse felt much better, no longer plagued by the desire for sleep. Instead, there was something else he wanted — he wanted to pick up from last night. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours, hand skimming toward your thigh.
“Lots of stuff,” He began, coaxing you against him as he answered your question in between a series of heated, needy kisses. “All about you.” Jesse confessed, peering at you through his lashes before his hand gently grabbed at your ass.
“Yeah? Do you wanna show me?” You asked, becoming a bit breathless whenever he kissed you. It was accompanied by plenty of groping, ensuring that you were flush against him as the tension rose to a boiling point between the two of you.
You weren’t about to recoil, reciprocating his kiss with a passionate one of your own, stomach churning with anticipation. Your hand moved toward the nape of his neck, fingers lightly grabbing at his hair. Each kiss was sweet yet sloppy, and you could feel Jesse’s hand underneath your shirt.
“Yeah, I do. Do you wanna do this?” Jesse murmured, ensuring that he wasn’t jumping the gun. You could’ve changed your mind from last night — that was certainly a possibility, and he’d be just fine with it. He was partially on top of you, but he leaned back enough to gauge your answer.
“Absolutely.” You smiled, sitting up enough to get your shirt off, which Jesse kindly assisted with. The both of you sank into a rather peaceful moment, blissfully quiet as he wriggled out of his shirt.
Jesse leaned forward again, capturing your mouth in a passionate, heated kiss, his hands finding the smooth curve of your hips. “You’re so pretty.” He exhaled, feeling that little pang of nervousness. He hadn’t touched a girl since Jane, but he wasn’t about to let himself be thrust into the past, not now.
Heat saturated your skin, crawling all over you like a fever. In the wake of Jesse’s compliment, you felt sheer elation, feeling his lips roam from your mouth to your jaw. His hands were everywhere, inevitably finding their purchase against your thighs. He peppered a string of kisses from your jaw to your neck, though his kisses soon turned to suckling.
“Jesse.” You moaned, haplessly grasping onto his shoulders as he left a series of hickeys on your neck. You felt his digits curl around the waistband of your panties, but he made no motion to remove them just yet.
Your moan was enough to make him shiver in delight, gaze following the path of your hand as you hastily unclasped your bra. You had such a beautiful body — Jesse felt some semblance of awe, snug against you as you got comfortable atop the comforter.
Continuing his previous route, Jesse’s mouth kissed down your neck and collarbone, stopping above your breasts. Even your smell was intoxicating — everything about you reeled him in. “Jesus,” He mumbled against your sternum. “You’re beautiful.” It was an endless string of softspoken praises that escaped him.
He was scrawny, with a lanky musculature — you found it attractive in the best of ways. Your gaze occasionally fell across his many tattoos, committing every detail to memory. Your fingers continued to tug and pull at his hair, body jolting into him when his mouth wrapped around your nipple.
A low groan resonated from his throat, rippling across his chest when you continued to toy with his hair. His hand traced down the plane of your stomach, slipping underneath the elastic trim of your panties. You nearly buckled, writhing underneath him when his digits slipped against your cunt.
You felt his mouth suck and kiss at your breast, in-tandem with the teasing ministrations of his fingers. It was feather-light, enough to drive you to the brink of frustration. “You wet already, angel?” It was almost an incredulous statement instead of a question.
Fuck — the nickname was enough to send shockwaves pulsating through your body. Your skin became awash with warmth, lips falling apart as you peered down, enough to catch a glimpse of those half-lidded, cerulean eyes and the adoring tilt of his lips. Goosebumps snaked across your spine, back arching off of the bed.
Jesse wasn’t dumb — he knew that your reaction was from the nickname. He pressed his tongue against his cheek, pressing a string of kisses from your breast to stomach, tattooed hand curling into your panties as he inched them past your thighs.
“Say it again,” It was a command that fell from your mouth, and not a plea. Your fingers happened to tense within his hair, enough to make his jeans become uncomfortably tight. “Please.” With a breathy exhale, you felt Jesse’s lips trace across the curve of your hip.
He felt his heart hammer with erratic excitement, tongue absentmindedly flicking out to trace across his lower lip. Christ, you looked so perfect like this — Jesse watched you, breathing intensifying as you spread your legs just a little bit. He often walked the line between nervousness and confidence, feeling a sense of boldness swell within him.
His breath fanned across the inside of your thigh, lips ghosting over the soft skin there. Jesse’s gaze remained fixated upon you, glistening with a sheen of lust as he finally began to kiss his way to the throbbing between your legs. “Where do you want me, angel?” Jesse murmured, assuming that he knew the answer.
You couldn’t recall the last time you’d felt this way — floating, so unbelievably slick and warm that you felt feverish. Jesse brought out a new level of neediness and desperation that you never thought possible. “Jesse,” You moaned, squirming haplessly as you urged him closer. “Please, please.”
Jesse swallowed, wordlessly following the motion of your hand as he lapped at your cunt, tongue dragging along the length of your slit. You were whimpering, one hand grappling at his freckled shoulder. He was so turned on from the noises you made, enough for him to grind his hips into the mattress.
You sputtered a very pitiful apology when your hips bucked forward, but you were met with a barrage of needy licks and a faint moan. Slivers of morning light pooled through the curtains, falling across Jesse as he buried his face between your thighs. His weeks-old stubble rubbed against the sensitive flesh of your legs.
Nimble digits skimmed forward, one palm splayed against your pelvis as the other gripped down on your thigh. You wanted to sob from how good it felt — he was talented with his mouth, that much was for sure. His tongue flicked over your clit, gestures rhythmic and steady.
A knot formed within your stomach, a coil that continued to tighten, threatening to burst if Jesse kept it up. It all felt like some foreign fever dream, but you much preferred the current reality — Jesse Pinkman, eating you out until you cried. You felt his hand brush against yours, a gesture that was startlingly tender.
One hand untangled itself from his hair, deciding to give him a break, going to hold his hand instead, fingers lacing together. You felt his lips begin to purse around your clit, simultaneously eliciting another noisy, elated moan from your lips.
Your chest heaved with a myriad of throaty, high-pitched whimpers as he sucked on your clit, stars rippling past your vision. No one had ever gone down on you with such reverence and passion before, but now that you’d gotten a taste, you wanted more.
Jesse hadn’t realized it, but somewhere in the thick of hooking up with you, he was feeling like himself again. It almost felt as if he’d been transported back to a time before he’d met Walter White, to a time where he was slinging crystal and simply enjoying life. Each moan, every little mewl and keen that escaped you was akin to music.
“Jesse,” You panted, breathing somewhat ragged as he lapped at your clit. That coil began to unfurl, blistering heat coursing through you, a white-hot rush of sheer ecstasy that caused you to moan and cry out. “Jesse!” You felt him squeeze your hand, a silent reassurance to let go.
Unbothered by the mess, Jesse groaned, feeding off of your orgasm as he lapped at your cunt, ministrations lacking the vigor from before. Your stomach felt like mush, but you wanted him to fuck you senseless — you almost felt embarrassed for how wound-up you’d become.
He was quiet, kissing your thighs as he began to sit back up, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand. Jesse ogled you, head cocking to one side before he spoke. “You are so beautiful.” It wasn’t something spoken lightly during sex — you felt it seep right into your bones, genuine as ever.
“So are you.” You replied, and you watched his throat bob as he swallowed. Jesse crawled up, and in a flurry of unrestrained passion, he kissed your mouth. You could taste yourself, taste him — it was enough to make your cunt throb again, still dealing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.
“Could you, uh …” Jesse mumbled, erection pulsing and rubbing right into the pliant flesh of your thigh. “I want you on top.” He was used to climbing on top of girls and going to town until he ran out of stamina, but he had different reasons this time. “I wanna see you.”
Your heart fluttered within your chest, and you nodded, watching as he rolled over, making himself comfortable atop the mound of pillows lining your bed. There was something eerily intimate in the way that he spoke — maybe it was just you. It was soft and sweet, enough to make you shudder as you straddled his hips.
Reaching for his belt, you unfastened it, moving enough for him to kick his pants off. His hands moved toward your thighs, fingers caressing across your flesh as the both of you worked to remove the final article of clothing. He was quiet this time, staring up at you with a searing, intense look — it was almost adoring.
He was unbearably hard, hips writhing slightly, desperate to be inside of you. Jesse nearly melted at the sensation of your hand wrapping around his cock, giving it a few, sluggish strokes, thumb swiping across the head before you lifted yourself up just enough.
Jesse groaned in tandem with you as you sank down onto his length, digits tensing into your thighs as you adjusted yourself, lips falling apart. You reached for his hands, fingers twining together. Goosebumps erupted across his body, chest fluttering with an unshakable warmth.
“Jesus.” Jesse breathed, watching as you stooped down to press your mouth against his, open-mouthed and sloppy. His tongue traced across your lower lip, and you responded by rolling your hips forward. He exhaled, reciprocating with another heated, messy kiss.
He released one of your hands, enough to grip onto your hip, guiding you into a steady rhythm. Your pace was somewhat sporadic and erratic at first, slipping into a natural flow once he held onto you. Jesse groans, unable to keep from staring at you as if you were perfection incarnate.
You whimper, using your knees to rock yourself up and back down, sinking onto his cock until he’s bottomed out. The intermingling of your moans fill your bedroom, accompanied by the faint squeak and creak of your bed frame. “Jesse.” You mewl, feeling his lips smack against your collarbone.
What started as something slow and sluggish had gained traction, your pace increasing slightly. A crackling, familiar heat raced across your body, making your stomach churn with anticipation, simultaneously pooling with warmth.
A soft moan tore past his lips, skin flushing with a rosy shade as you careened forward, one palm splaying out across his chest. “Shit,” Jesse’s voice emerged again as an excitable pant, squeezing your hand as you continued to piston yourself up and down. “You feel so good, baby.” Any little nickname was enough to make you preen.
Heat rippled through you, continuing to consume your body in waves. He sat up, enough to be within reach of you as he pressed a messy, sultry kiss against your collarbone, clamoring for your mouth as you tilted your head downward.
Your hand snaked from his chest to the nape of his neck, gripping his hair once. Your motions became somewhat uneven and less rhythmic as you rocked yourself on his cock, mewling and whimpering, noises intertwining with his strenuous groans. His palm grabbed at the curve between your thigh and ass, gripping you tight as you rode him.
“M’close,” You huffed, prying your lips away from his, only for you to press a trail of haphazard kisses against his stubbled jaw. “Jesse.” Another whine escaped you, followed by a cacophony of lewd noises. Your thighs felt a strain and burn from pistoning yourself onto his cock so many times, heat pooling between your legs.
Jesse was right there with you, though he wasn’t entirely sure where you wanted him to unload, to put it mildly. “Where do you want me?” He asked again, mirroring his inquiry from earlier. You slowed somewhat at that question, but he shook his head. “Keep going.” Despite the sting of borderline overstimulation, he didn’t want you to stop.
Both of his hands redirected themselves to your hips, guiding you along, letting you grind yourself forward, rolling your hips up and back onto his length. He groaned again, forehead pressed against yours, skin feeling as if it were set ablaze. The hold you had on him already was rather ironclad.
He kissed you again, unusually intimate and full of desire, digits groping and kneading into your curves. Your skin felt velvety underneath his fingertips, and your scent invaded his senses, overwhelming him in the best way possible. His cock was throbbing, swallowed by your tight cunt as you whimpered his name.
“Not inside.” You cautioned, breathlessly clashing with him again — all tongue, teeth and want as Jesse nudged you back. With your newfound position, legs locked around his lanky musculature as he rutted into you, you felt like you were seeing stars. “Holy shit, Jesse!” You moaned.
Jesse wasn’t grotesquely well-endowed, but he knew exactly how to utilize what he had. He felt like he’d broken the barrier right then and there, bottomed out inside of you before he pulled out, cumming onto your stomach. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen as thin ropes of slick seed fell across your abdomen.
His chest heaved with recuperative breaths, perspiration glistening along his brow as he hovered over you. The two of you sighed in-tandem, both coming down from a blissful high. Those pretty, cerulean eyes of his consumed you over and over again, fluttering in rapid succession before he lowered himself to kiss you.
It was slow — too slow, almost, but Jesse savored you, instead. Your nails ghosted across his forearm, tracing around the intricate pattern of his tattoo before skimming toward his shoulders. You reciprocated the kiss with a familiar sweetness, unhooking one leg from his waist.
“Sorry,” Jesse mumbled, gesturing toward the sticky mess that was splattered all over your stomach. “You look so pretty like that.” His tone lowered, taking on some delicious pitch that itched a certain part of you, sending goosebumps trailing across your spine.
Before you could respond, Jesse slipped off of you, tugging on his boxers as he wandered toward your bathroom to grab a towel. It was the first one he could get his hands on, returning to you with a rather adoring look in his eyes.
As you cleaned yourself up, making sure to discard the towel into your laundry basket, Jesse reappeared with a glass of water. It was quite endearing, watching the way he took care of you afterwards without being asked to. He sat next to you, watching as you pulled your panties back on and your t-shirt.
“That was really nice.” Admittedly, you needed it — but it felt better than before, all due to Jesse. You curled up next to him, head resting against his collarbone as his palm moved to cradle your face.
“Yeah, it was.” Jesse murmured, wishing that he could stay with you. He needed to get back home — the house was likely ruined. He’d also briefly glanced at his phone and noticed four missed calls from Mr. White’s number. “I wanna do it again.”
You giggled, nose wrinkling in amusement. “Hanging out together or having sex?” You asked, and he scoffed, lips twitching in a brief flash of a smile. “You can be honest, Jesse. I can handle it.”
“Both,” He confessed, savoring the feeling of your hand delicately tracing over the tattoo on his collarbone. “What if I took you out somewhere, yeah? Like on a date.” Jesse couldn’t believe that he’d asked you, but it was out in the open, now — no going back.
“Okay.” You mused, gaze flickering toward his lips. You would never get tired of kissing him — the taste of spearmint and cigarettes had become borderline addictive. “You can take me out.” With that, you leaned forward, pressing your mouth against his.
Jesse exhaled, reciprocating your kiss with one of his own. He squeezed his eyes shut, pad of his thumb caressing over your jawline. “Shit,” He sighed, a forlorn look within his eyes. “I gotta get going. I don’t want to.” He didn’t want to leave, but he had a feeling he’d be seeing you again soon. His phone vibrated again.
You yearned for the contact when he’d rolled out of your bed, getting himself dressed again. Once he found his jacket and keys, you decided to walk him to the door, standing with him in the cool morning breeze. Sunlight glittered down, bathing the both of you in picturesque lighting.
“Jesse,” You murmured, hand poised along the doorframe. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” You asked, watching him linger around on the front step as he glanced toward his car. After everything that happened, from last night to now, you were a little worried. He wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind — that much you knew.
Jesse hesitated — he didn’t have a viable answer to that. His house was a drug-laden pit, he was beginning to spiral, but you’d kicked him back onto a different path. It was an unpredictable road ahead. Even he had no idea how he’d feel by the end of the day, but one thing was for certain — he’d be okay for you.
He swallowed, and then nodded twice. “Yeah, I think so.” His chest tightened with a flurry of emotions, ones he hadn’t felt since Jane was around. Jesse was absolutely enthralled by you — and he wondered if that would lead to your doom.
With that, you nodded, beginning to turn around. Before you could, you felt a hand curling around your wrist, as if guiding you elsewhere.
“Hey,” Jesse muttered, reeling you back in for a gentle kiss. “I’ll see you later.” It was a promise to himself, more than it was to you. He was reluctant to pull away, but the buzzing in his pocket became rather urgent.
The kiss caught you off-guard, stealing every wisp of air right out of your lungs, warmth creeping across your skin until it burned something hot within your cheeks. You opened your mouth, unable to keep from smiling.
“See you later, Jesse.”
You really hoped that you would.
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rebeltarot · 25 days
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CAREER ➕ Blessings coming toward you in your career
"I still remember the nights I wished for the things I have now."
[3 piles] ・ [5 decks] ・ [8-10 cards for each pile] ・ [letters, signs, songs]
Hello friends! As we are nearing the end of this quarter I wanted to create a reading all about blessings coming toward you in your career. Please remember that a “blessing” can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction. What are your hopes and dreams regarding your career? Do you have any goals you want to achieve in this area this year? Definitely let me know. Regardless of what you are hoping for, I wish you all the best and lots of luck. ♡♡
Painting: Dancers, Pink and Green by Edgar Degas (ca. 1890)
Helpful Links: How to choose your pile ➕ Request a reading
Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!
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© rebeltarot 2023-2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.
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PILE 01 ➕
Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.
CONFIRMATION
Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.
C, A, R, E, E, I, 3rd House, Mercury, Scorpio
Song: Mother's Daughter (R3HAB Remix) - Miley Cyrus
BLESSINGS COMING TOWARD YOU IN YOUR CAREER
Tarot: 5 of cups, 10 of cups, the sun, the devil rx, 9 of pentacles rx
Oracle: the dragon, the king, emotion, imum coeli, moon in leo
Hello, Pile 01, and welcome to your reading. Please remember that a “blessing” can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction. With the 5 of cups, it feels like for the longest time you were struggling in your career. This does not necessarily mean that there was no progress, but it was not emotionally fulfilling for you. This could also talk about a lack-mindset in terms of your career, i.e., not feeling worthy of it or not seeing a future with it. Some of you might feel like an imposter in your current position. Yes, you are wearing the title, but you do not feel like you deserve it. This is where your blessing is happening. It's going to address your hustling mentality and your superficiality in your career. It feels like you might have given more than you were able to, pouring from an empty cup just to feel like you deserve to be where you are. Whatever you were doing, it's unsustainable. I feel like you were once very passionate about your current career but fell out of love with it because you were overworking yourself too much, nearly burning out. What I see coming towards you is something that most would consider extremely lucky, as we have the ladybug in the imagery of this card. 10's in tarot talk about an excess of energy; in this case, it's positive energy. Something significant will happen that will indicate the end of one cycle and ring in a new one of abundance and emotional fulfillment. Your cards are not saying what is going to happen, just how it will affect you, and my god, pile 01, you're going to be so happy with this change. The sun is following the 10 of cups. You will experience a lot of success in your career, which will bring you lots of abundance. There is a sense of alignment and harmony. This most likely refers to your mindset. I feel like you are going to check yourself, and seek out an environment that fulfills you. Implementing the changes that need to be made to end this cycle of adversity and struggle. This is truly a positive spread, especially with the devil reversed ending this. You will step into self-empowerment. There is a sense of breaking free from things (be they people, situations, or mindsets) that held you prisoner. I see you freeing yourself from this hustling mindset and stepping into a deeper understanding of your wants and needs. It feels like you will pay attention to more than your salary in whatever you are doing next. You won't just be swayed by a fancy title and a big paycheck; you are digging deeper; you are looking for and finding something that is truly fulfilling. This does not mean that we are talking about a new job here or a new position. Not necessarily. But rather, I see this as you taking on a new perspective and thus realigning yourself with who you are, including your values and your desires. I see you detaching from superficial aspects of your career and digging deeper into what you need to feel fulfilled. 
The dragon and the king are both confirming what we have already seen with the devil reversed. You are stepping into your power and taking charge instead of letting superficial aspects control you. It never brought you any satisfaction. I see you taking charge, especially in terms of legalities. Maybe you are renegotiating your contract, or you are signing a new one, but either way, it's all happening because you wish it to happen, meaning you are initiating it and taking charge of it. This pile is mostly about emotional fulfillment and not so much about the superficial aspects of your career, because it feels like the majority of this pile is already well-established in their career. This is a change and a blessing happening at the root of things. It's about values, fulfillment, alignment, and resonance. I feel like you were growing a massive tree on shallow roots, and your blessing is that you are accommodating your tree and allowing it to grow sustainable and strong roots. Again, it's not necessarily a career change; this might only apply to a very small percentage of this group. For most, this talks about working with what you have, not uprooting your career, but nurturing the soil and foundation that you hold. As I have said, for most of you, this is a mindset shift followed by minor changes, maybe in terms of working hours, etc. I feel like you might bring new ideas into your career, expanding what you are already doing and incorporating a more creative element into it. Others might share an idea, be it for a project, etc., which will allow you to turn your dreams into reality. Either way, needs that have not been met before are now being met, and whatever you wish for will find solid footing soon. It will manifest in your life. Fulfillment is coming.
Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!
© rebeltarot 2023-2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.
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PILE 02 ➕
Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.
CONFIRMATION
Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.
O, blank, G, A, K, E, 6th House, Mercury, Gemini
Song: All for us - Labrinth
BLESSINGS COMING TOWARD YOU IN YOUR CAREER
Tarot: the emperor, ace of cups, 2 of wands, king of cups rx
Oracle: trust, healing, midheaven, solar eclipse
Hello, Pile 02, and welcome to your reading. Please remember that a “blessing” can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction. It feels like you are feeling overwhelmed, my dear pile 02. When it comes to your career, it seems like you are feeling quite anxious and detached. You might even be withdrawing from it in one way or another. I heard "quiet quitting" while writing this. Whatever the current situation at your work is, it's far from ideal. It feels like you are holding back anger too. This is a very specific thing I see, but I feel like some of you might have felt betrayed. You are not showing it, but you are also not ignoring whatever has happened and led to your feeling of turmoil. You are actively taking away your effort to balance the scales quietly. Again, this might apply to just a handful of you, but the King of Cups, as our bottom deck, is looking upset and vindictive. The good news is that you are taking charge, my dear pile 02. Your blessing is that you take authority over this situation and maneuver whatever has happened that led to you withdrawing from your career into a success story for yourself. It feels like you are taking the cup you are holding, and instead of withholding it from everyone, including yourself, you are pouring your energy and your efforts into yourself. You are "upgrading" yourself, is what I heard. Interesting; this pile is very vocal. So maybe you are speaking up for yourself. Whatever it is, it's been a long time coming, and it relates to something you have held on to for quite some time. Your blessing is that you create stability. A new beginning is awaiting. It can relate to a brand new position, a job at a new company, or even your own business. Whatever the case may be, I see you in a leading position. And you are comfortable there. Maybe the King of Cups, in reverse, talked about suppressing your leadership talent and making you uncomfortable and upset. Either way, this new position of leadership will give you a whole new beginning, especially emotionally. I am hearing "clean slate." This is such a vocal pile! Someone might be giving you their scepter; for some, it might not be a voluntary handoff, but either way, it will be fulfilling for you. I see you climbing the ladder. Whatever your goals are in your career, you are getting closer to them. Plans are being made. For some, it might even relate to a position overseas. For sure, big decisions are made relating to the future. Both for you and for your career. 
Trust is your next card. With the King of Cups reversed, this is slow-moving energy. It's not something that happens overnight. Especially since for some of you, the handover is not made willingly (i.e., the person leaving said position does not want to do so). Your guides are asking you to trust the process. Trust that what you are going through is meant to happen and that what is promised to you will happen. You are currently in the healing stages, but your career journey (your negative experience right now) is soon coming to a pinnacle. You are going to reach your goals faster than you might have anticipated. A solar eclipse might be significant. This could be an indicator of timing. Either way, this new beginning, this rebirth of yours, is your blessing, and it will come with a handful of opportunities. I see you regaining your passion and your inspiration, and you will feel at home in this position of leadership that is soon to come. 
Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!
© rebeltarot 2023-2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.
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PILE 03 ➕
Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.
CONFIRMATION
Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.
O, B, G, A, 8th house, Uranus, Virgo
Song: Only You - Eddie Benjamin, Alessia Cara
BLESSINGS COMING TOWARD YOU IN YOUR CAREER
Tarot: 6 of wands, wheel of fortune rx, the star, King of swords rx, judgment
Oracle: the wasp, energy, jupiter, lunar eclipse
Hello, Pile 03, and welcome to your reading. Please remember that a “blessing” can be anything that protects us, makes us happy, or points us in the right direction. Wow, this is a pile with a bunch of major arcana. Whatever is happening for you, it sure is significant. Your situation is not easy, and it seems complicated. Interestingly, your tarot cards are telling a story and leading into your blessing. You are someone who is established, successful, highly regarded at work, and known for the great results you bring. Your peers do not doubt your skill set. However, it feels like whenever you hit a goal or whenever you experience a win, the wheel is turning sharply for you. Every hit of luck is met with a hit of misfortune. It does not have to be major, though it feels this way to you. It's something you might already be anticipating. However, your prospects are bright, my dear pile 3. How about a mindset shift? Instead of the bad following the good, how about the good following the bad? It's so interesting, your pile. Your blessing is your faith and your hope. This might sound anticlimactic, but it's the most powerful blessing one can get. Luck is unpredictable and unreliable. But hope and faith in yourself and your abilities? Confidence? That's something that can get you places. It's something that leads to intrinsic motivation and actions being taken. Your hope means pouring into yourself, tending the garden of your soul, and allowing things to sprout and bloom for you. Again, bright prospects for you. You will be blessed with an idea and inspiration. This vision will fertilize your soil, and it will allow you to make your wildest dreams come true. Your pile is so interesting because we have a good card followed by a challenging card, and so on, but eventually, we are ending your spread with a positive one. It's reminding me of a seesaw, and I swear it's giving me whiplash. You might feel this way. Having a bad thing leads to a good thing, and vice versa. But again, your ability to keep your head held high and your ability to still believe is a true blessing in and of itself. I feel like you are lying to yourself with the king of swords in reverse. You might feel like you are crumbling under all this pressure and under all these changes that seem to follow you around, but you are not. You are growing in your power, your ability, and your adaptability because that is the skill set that you need. That's the skillset that will bring you far and eventually to a lot of abundance. Your blessing, ultimately, is a rebirth of the self with the judgment card. You will receive an idea, an epiphany. This will lead to you finding your purpose and a renewal of your career. This seems to be such a common theme across all piles, but to me, in your pile, this sounds like growth. It sounds like a level-up. In your pile, especially, we can see the impact that it will have on your life with those three major Arcana cards. It's the birth of something. This is my entrepreneurial pile. I feel like most people in this pile either run their own business or want to do so at some point. Either way, you are birthing something, and it will lead to you having people against you. It's not an easy journey, but it is very well worth it.
The wasp is confirming the king of swords, Rx, in its message. Someone will not be happy about your wins. Do you know what is so funny in your pile, though? The wasp card is followed by the energy card, which has oranges depicted on it. And you know what repels wasps? You are right about citrus fruits, which oranges are. Your energy, the essence of who you are, is so strong and so powerful that those people just cannot touch you even if they try. Your ability to believe and to push through adversity makes you unstoppable. Whatever path you are choosing to walk, it's less traveled, one that is hard, and that takes a lot of power and will. Not everyone can achieve what you set out to achieve, leading to people envying you. But again, these people are an annoyance at worst; they are unable to touch you or your bag. And abundance is waiting for you, for sure. All your hard work and all the adversities you are facing are eventually there to help you grow and lead you toward success. Yes, it might feel like whiplash sometimes with all those huge wins being met with huge obstacles, but what is waiting for you is unmatched my dear pile three. Eventually, you will get whatever you desire, and then some. For that to happen, you have to go through a transformation, and we all know that growing pains hurt. But you will come out on the other side as a winner. Remember that you are always protected.
Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!
© rebeltarot 2023-2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.
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babysfirstfic · 2 months
Text
live now, think later
luke hughes x fem!reader
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word count: 1.7k
summary: Luke desperately needs to blow off some steam. In a dingy bar, he finds just what he's looking for...
warnings: Brief allusions to sex, but nothing major. Yet. (18+)
a/n: This is my first ever fic! I would love to hear feedback if you have any. I plan for this to be chapter 1 of 3 (but we'll see what happens)! Shoutout to this Tate McRae song for directly inspiring the title and for subconsciously inspiring the plot.
There were few NHL rookies who had more eyes trained on them than Luke Hughes. Between the constant media attention he received from a young age and the pressure that came with his last name, Luke had always had a complicated relationship with his celebrity.
Don’t get it twisted, Luke was super grateful for all the advantages that came with having two all stars for brothers, and there was a part of him that enjoyed leaning into his status. 
On the ice, he welcomed the attention. He loved the chance to put on a show for the fans, reveling in the opportunities to make game-changing plays. Hockey was his craft; the minute he laced up his skates he was an artist, an author, a showman. A single goal could cause an entire stadium to rise to their feet, and the power he felt in those moments was indescribable.
Off the ice, though, it was a different story.
Luke prided himself on his maturity and his charm, his ability to keep his cool even while being peppered with questions and surrounded by cameras. He had years to perfect the art of the interview, expertly dodging personal inquiries and even cracking the occasional smile to make it seem like he didn’t absolutely despise answering the same inane questions over and over again. 
But one could only keep up appearances for so long. He found it exhausting to have to perform all the time. Though he understood it was a sacrifice he’d have to make now that he was living out his dreams, that didn’t make it any easier. 
After several months in the league, he craved a chance to be something other than “Luke Hughes, the hockey player”. He desperately needed to let loose and to make use of the other sides of his personality, the spicier sides, the sides that the cameras would never get to see. 
It was time for this Devil to earn his horns. 
Within the first few months of being in New Jersey, Luke quickly learned which bars would bend the rules for him. In his desperation to fit in with any teammate who didn’t share his DNA, he was willing to do pretty much anything to get in, buying fake IDs, signing jerseys, you name it. He felt it showed his teammates just how committed he was to building their relationships, on and off the ice. 
But tonight, his team couldn’t have been further from his mind. This time, he’d come alone. 
Luke had never had the time or energy for dating, but he thrived on quick hook ups and meaningless sex. No obligation for vulnerability or commitment, just fun. After the whirlwind that had been last year, he needed some fun, and tonight, he was willing to work for it. 
His bar of choice was dingy, a typical dive bar, complete with sticky floors and disgruntled employees, but the low key lighting and loud music allowed for the perfect cover. Luke felt a sense of safety in his anonymity, a feeling which was becoming increasingly rare. 
Waiting in a booth on the edge of the dimly lit room, he scanned the crowd, searching for a glimpse of excitement, someone to steal the blood from his brain and force it elsewhere. 
Suddenly, something, no someone caught his eye. It was you. 
In a glittery backless top with a loose, low cut and black pants that you filled out in all the right places, you were shaking your stuff on the dance floor. Your whole body bounced with every movement. Like a beacon in the night, the strobe lights illuminated your entirety, sending colourful fractals bouncing off in every direction. You were practically demanding Luke’s attention, and you didn’t even have to try. 
You had sensed his eyes on you immediately and couldn’t help but to return his gaze. He looked young but strangely sure of himself, carrying the recognizable swagger of a man who’s used to breaking the rules and getting away with it. Luke would call it confidence, but if you asked his brothers, they’d call it his raging youngest sibling syndrome. 
You were undeniably intrigued. Adding more hip movement to your dancing, you hoped that it would encourage him to join. This certainly was not your first rodeo. 
It worked. Slowly, he stood up from his booth and made his way onto the dance floor. You sensed a shift in his energy, like this was something out of the ordinary for him. “Nice to know he has a weakness,” you mused to yourself, just now noticing the flutter in your heart as he inched closer. 
Luke hated dancing, but something about you drew him in, like a ship of sailors drawn by the voices of sirens. Though he hoped he might meet a different fate; he hoped you might give him a happy ending. 
Eventually, he reached your spot on the dance floor. 
“Hey,” he spoke into your ear, leaning in close so that you could hear him above the music. You felt his breath tickle your neck, sending chills down your back and deep inside. 
“Hi,” you responded, keeping your cool in spite of the tides coming in beneath you. You didn’t know him, had never seen him before, yet everything within you yearned to be close to him, craved to feel his hand against your skin, begged to know him in every sense of the word. “Sheesh girl, you need to get out more,” you thought, smiling briefly to yourself.
Without wasting any time, you grabbed his hand and placed it on the small of your back, finally experiencing the brief release of skin-on-skin. You looked up at him, attempting to decipher the look on his face. He reciprocated your gaze, flashing his crooked smile, practically threatening to melt you right then and there. 
Seeing his smile mirrored on your face, he moved his other hand to match the first, pulling you in close. You nodded to express your approval and quickly fell back into your original rhythm, grinding and swaying your hips to the music. Sticking your hands in his back pockets, you led him through the motions, slowly undulating your bodies to the beat. 
Your eyes scanned up and down as you let yourself take him in. There was something about this boy; he completely captivated you. With his arms around you, you felt safe. He lacked the aggression and forcefulness you had unfortunately come to expect from situations such as these. He was clearly strong, but you caught him out of his comfort zone, so he was letting you take the lead, a role you took on gladly. 
After a couple minutes of finding the right rhythm, your bodies became one. The world melted away. Luke leaned in and began gently kissing your neck, stopping only to briefly nibble your ear. As your pelvises moved up and down to the beat, you began to feel the friction of something rising just below his belt. You responded in kind, sensing a growing heat and swelling between your legs. Neither of you had done this in a while and it was showing, your bodies overly excitable. But you didn’t mind; you were both getting exactly what you wanted. 
“I live a couple blocks from here,” you shouted above the crowd, doing everything in your power not to let out the moan that was threatening to escape your lips. “Maybe we could finish our dance there”. 
Knowing full well he couldn’t wait that long, Luke made a different suggestion. “There’s a hotel across the street. I have a room. Care to join me?” 
In the haze of the crowd and the music and the night, you found yourself moving off the dance floor, out of the bar, into the open air of Newark. 
Your entire body was pounding, throbbing with energy and excitement. Your hand was clasped in his, and only then, as you were making your way through the hotel lobby and down the hallway to the room, did you realize you didn’t even know his name. More importantly, you realized you didn’t care. In fact, it was better this way. No possibility of getting attached or contacting each other afterwards. A true one night stand. 
As you reached the room, Luke spun you around to face him, your back firmly placed against the door. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, leaning close, finally allowing you to get a good look at his face in the light.  
Your gaze trailed down from his curls to his lips, before resting on his eyes. You noticed a slight sparkle in them, a glint, an invitation. This was your chance. “I’ve never been more sure,” you responded.
Lunging forward instinctively, you reached up, taking hold of his hair and guiding his lips towards yours. Your touch was confident, verging on forceful, a byproduct of the pent up energy that needed an outlet and had finally found one. 
Maybe you were a little too forceful. As your bodies collided, they also made contact with the door, sending a loud noise vibrating through the hallway. You briefly paused your moment of passion to laugh, your foreheads still touching, neither of you daring to fully pull away. 
“Someone’s a little eager,” Luke spoke against your lips, chuckling slightly before re-initiating the kiss. 
Just as it had in the bar, the world melted away, making you forget just how publicly you were displaying your affection. 
But you were both being reckless, and Luke knew it. He had been warned about pulling something like this, about bringing negative attention to himself or to the team. He was new and still needed to prove himself. Above all that, he had a squeaky clean reputation to uphold. He was trained to be tight-lipped to the media so that the focus was on his playing, not his personal life. Stunts like this could jeopardize everything he’d worked for, everything his parents sacrificed for. But god, you were making him forget all of that. There wasn’t a single thought in Luke’s mind that didn’t have to do with getting you out of your clothes and under his tongue...
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mooneeswrld · 7 months
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PARTY CRUSH
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pairings : aged!up!earth42!Miles x fem!reader
warnings : alcohol, start of a smut, twerk, sensual touches (AGED UP MILES)
summary : Miles is secretly the Prowler, you are his best-friend, his girl best-friend. And you know about his secret identity from the beginning. This night, Miles used to join you at a party, he isn’t really attracted by parties but go because you insisted.
a/n : FIRST FANFIC GUYS ! I am literally obsessed with Prowler Miles😌 so hope you like it ✌️
PT.2
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You were in your room, trying some fits for the party. You were on a face time with your best friend too, you actually showed him some fits and he let you know which one was nice. You finished pulling up the straps of your shirt purple dress and go to the field of your camera to show Miles the dress. He was getting ready to do a mission as the Prowler. After this mission he used to join you at the party.
“What ‘bout this ?” you say, turning around to show him. The tight dress shone but not too much. You waited for his answer as he looked at your body. You cleared your throat to let him know you were waiting when he looked up to you across his phone.
“Mmm ? Oh ! The dress is….tight, isn’t she ?” He looked at you questioning with his eyes, you could tell, a lil bothered.
“Yea, that’s pretty in that way, nah ?” You said softly as you looked at your body in the mirror. Questioning if you looked good.
“Yea, well…you look good, ma” he mumbled, bothered. You could tell, something was going on. He looked at you, as you looked at yourself in your mirror before heading back to his business.
“Miles Gonzalo Morales, what’s the matter ?” You sighed as you looked at his face, questioning.
“Can’t you just…wear something above your dress the time I won’t be there ?” He said not facing you, just doing his own business. You looked pissed off he said that.
‘How could he not trust you ?’
You sighed, not ready to allow, so you didn’t responded, you finished your makeup, on your vanity near your phone. He couldn’t see you in the field of the camera. He ad finished his business and is gonna head to the mission. You knew that when he called you
“Listen, (y/n), I trust you, just, take care of yourself till I come. I’ll join you in 1 hour, okay ?” he said softly, yet directive. He was gonna hang up, because he needed to head to his mission right the way
you sighed and appear to the field of the camera to mumble “I’ll take care of myself till you join me, okay” he sighed of relief and waved a lil bye bye that you waved back with a smile
*30 minutes after*
You arrived at the entry of the nightclub and walked in, miles was supposed to be there in 30 minutes. You entered the nightclub, you saw were the dance floor was, were the bar was, were the couches were and surprisingly, the strip bars.
You arrived and walked to the bar, asking for a drink, specially a cocktail, ‘sex on the beach’. You started drinking while analysing every ‘teams’ in the nightclub, you didn’t wanted to go dancing alone, but you did. You started heading to the dance floor after drinking ass dry your drink.
You started doing movements with your body, spinning on yourself and before you knew it was time for Miles to join you. As you danced with random girls. He saw you on the dance floor and smirked then head to the bar to get a drink.
You were actually really drunk and wasn’t always knowing what you were doing. He finished his drink quickly and ask for another before drinking 3 drinks. He then decided to join you, but as he go to the dance floor, the music changed. For a…twerk one…
*put the music on*
It was your favourite song for your sensual dance and Miles knew it. He join you and tap on your shoulder to let you give your attention to him. When you turned around you smiled widely.
“Miles !” You said as you jumped in his arms, a thing you never do between you both. He was taken aback but with the alcohol, he didn’t mind it too much and grabbed your waist, he was actually drunk too. He turned you to have your back on his chest and said in your ear “twerk for me, ma~”
You felt the heat on your face increase and you felt his large hands on your waist. The music chorus came in and you didn’t mind twerking on him, he was actually your secret crush so, if you could let him fall for you, you’ll do it. You then started twerking, your butt rubbing his crotch, as you twerk on him. You did sensual movements like letting your hands slide from your boobs to your thighs while twerking. It was getting him aroused, he knew he was doing shit, she is his best friend ! But he didn’t mind on the moment, seeing you twerking on him was actual heaven. You were actually his secret crush, it’s hard for him to admit it.
As you turned to face him, your hair a bit on your face due to your movements as you looked at him with ‘those eyes’. You did pelvic movement, while having your hands on his torso, you knew what you were doing was shit, he is your best friend !
Before you knew, Miles dragged you off the dance floor to the couches. He tackle you on the wall near a couch and looked at you with hungry eyes. “ma…I can’t take it anymore…~”he said as a revelation, it was like a love reveal. You just looked at his lips before saying the start word. “Take me~” you said sensually. You were both actually conscious of the act that was gonna happen…
*to be continued !*
@mooneeswrld
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makelemonade · 1 year
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫
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Characters; All the Harbingers (including Scaramouche and Signora)
Genre: Modern!AU
Summary; A little girl Pierro found after her family abandoned her in the cold winter of Snezhnaya. How will the Harbingers deal with her growing up in their organization?
Warnings; mentions of abandonment, bullying, scara and Dottore not caring abt u for like a millisecond, implied nudes but it’s not direct, if you squint there’s a little Pantalone/Signora but It can be seen as platonic
Notes; uhm so ‘organization’ for the harbingers can live up to yalls perspectives since it’s a Modern!AU. I didn’t wanna say Mafia so imagine to your hearts content.
y’all I would deadass turn this into a series if anyone asked or it got a lot of attention
Support me on Kofi! Link is on masterlist <3 read under the cut!
context; pierro, who found you as a little girl all alone in the snow and came to the assumption that you were left and abandoned here on his walk towards his work. He couldn’t just leave you there all alone to die from the sheer cold, so he brings you to his work, and tries to get any information out of you. You’re too young and small to say anything, but comes to the conclusion with the constant crying, you were indeed abandoned.
Also, imagine the work place is also their home or wtv and they havé rooms (basically the Tsaritsa’a castle)
Pierro, who doesn’t care if you call him by his name or ‘ dad’ when you start to grow up, but he can’t deny the small happy feeling in his chest when he hears you call him dad.
Pierro, who is not always physically there due to work and being away frequently, but tries his best to spend time with you during all his free time.
Pierro, who starts to realize that he has a lot to teach you once you enter high school, but figured maybe he should get one of the female-harbingers to talk to you about uh, certain, stuff
Pierro, who makes sure to be very protective of you and always has someone watching over you. Sometimes he tends to be overprotective when you wanna go out to certain places, but get one of the Harbingers or even his boss to talk to him and he’ll probably change his mind.
Capitano, who always found you absolutely adorable ever since you were brought to the workplace and would coo under his helmet
Capitano, who lets you play with his helmet when he has to take care of you while the others are too busy with work.
Capitano, who would give you piggy back rides once you were a bit taller and older so you wouldn’t easily fall off his back.
Capitano, who is also just as overprotective as Pierro, but he can’t help but let you go out when you plead with your adorable puppy eyes. As long as he knows where you are at all times, you’re free.
Colombina, who would sing you lullabies fo sleep whenever you had trouble sleeping- especially on the first night you arrived, too scared to fall asleep.
Colombina, who would sing karaoke with you on some fun nights, even if it was Barbie songs or whatever childhood shows the others made you watch.
Colombina, who surprisingly, was the first to teach you how to read given her love for reading you bedtime stories whenever Pierro was away.
Dottore, who being fully honest, didn’t have much of a care for you in the world. It’s one day when little you is clinging to the fabric of his pants, little hands up in the air and grabbing the air, he can’t help but pick you up and hold you.
Dottore, who grabs your wrist with Pantalone as they hold it under the sink after your kindergarten teacher told Pierro you held hands with a boy. They had to wash his touch off of you. Cooties, you know?
Dottore, who helps you ace every single science assignment and test all throughout middle school and high school.
Pulcinella, who made a promise to himself and whatever god was out there that he’d be a second father to you the moment he heard that you were abandoned.
Pulcinella, who instead of teaching you to read like Colombina, teaches you math to make sure you don’t fall behind in the difficult subject, and always helps you with your homework. If you take a liking to politics in high school, he’ll be happy to teach you the basics and join him for his daily life as the mayor.
Pulcinella, who does his job as mayor and makes sure to find you the top ranked daycare, elementary, middle and high school in all of Snezhnaya. Money wise don’t matter, especially to all of them.
Scaramouche, who also didn’t give one single shit about you when you came and was a lot more stubborn than Dottore. It’s not until probably a lot longer later, when you come back from daycare crying about how kids bullied you for being adopted, when he realizes you’re just like him- the both of were you abandoned.
Scaramouche, who when is alone with child you, likes to hide his face behind his hands and opens them with a saying of “peek-a-boo!”. If not alone, he’s kind enough to let you play with his hat.
Scaramouche, who realizes that a child was able to let him soften up a bit, and that you gave him a new family.
Scaramouche, who teams up with Childe to make sure that absolutely NO ONE would defile you, and if someone did, Childe can make hassle of them.
Sandrone, who makes you little trinkets and baby toys when your first introduced to all the Harbingers.
Sandrone, who is usually the one to change Capitano or Pierro’s minds on their usual overprotectiveness.
Sandrone, who makes sure to protect you from the horrors of the world while growing up. She makes sure everything is age perfect for you, such as baby-proofing all the sharp edges when you were younger, she makes sure you don’t hear any of the subordinates being yelled at so you don’t get scared, and she sometimes joins in with Childe and Scaramouche to make sure no one defiles you.
Sandrone, who’s main goal will forever be to protect your innocence, even if it eventually gets ruined.
Signora, who is actually top on the Big Sister list. Like Sandrone, she wants to protect your innocence, but also reminds you that the world is not pure, and many people out there will want to ruin you.
(since this is modern, I’d like to say her and Childe are close to the same age, so she’s in her senior year when you’re in middle school)
Signora, who starts to give you friend advice once you enter middle school, because she’s had her fair share of deal of fake friends all through her years of middle school and high school.
Signora, who also gives you fashion advice or dresses you up for school every morning because lord knows Pierro’s fashion sense is horrible. She’s in her last year of high school (senior), so she’s seen all the good and bad fashion trends which means she’ll know just what’s right for you.
Signora, who is also the one who tried to get Capitano and Pierro to calm their overprotectiveness, but even she sometimes lets them win when she has a bad feeling about some high school party you want to go to.
Signora, who is your shoulder to cry on if a boy or girl ever breaks your heart. She is the big sister who tells you the no’s and yes’ of high school- no certain photos to men because they’re monsters at this age, no starting problems for the fun of it, but do make sure to have fun and if you’re dragged in a problem, finish it.
Pantalone, who spoils you ever since the first day you were introduced to them. He somehow beats Sandrone since he buys every single toy you’d point at in shops or see on ads.
Pantalone, who continues to spoil you through your years of aging as it would ascend from baby toys to fake jewelry, clothes, eventually real jewelry and makeup. He did want to give you real jewelry when you were little, but Dottore had to remind him you were a baby and would probably break it. Or eat it.
Pantalone, who glares at any guy you’ve taken an interest in. If instead of a guy it’s a girl, Arlecchino will take care of them if they break your heart.
Pantalone, who gives you money for literally every time you want to go out during your high school years. Movies, mall, trips- literally anything. It doesn’t matter how much, if you want 20$ he’ll give you 200$.
Pantalone, who did indeed turn on the sink and watched as Dottore grabbed your wrist and held it under the sink to wash off the touch of a little boy who held your hand in kindergarten.
Pantalone, who looks online or in stores with you and Signora for dresses when your homecoming and prom comes up. When he sees Signora looking at a dress she’d like for herself, he’ll buy it. He has to spoil his girls, and maybe the men coworkers if they’re being nice.
Arlecchino, who treats you just as any other kid in the orphanage she watches over, but she has a bit more of a soft spot for you.
Arlecchino, who also wants to protect your innocence, but decides instead that you need to know the horrors of the world and peoples real intentions. She did tell you all this at the age of 2 but all you did was angle your small little head to the side while Sandrone scolded her.
Arlecchino, who truthfully snd sadly, is hardly ever there, but if she ever sees something that reminds her of you on her work trips, she’ll make sure to buy it.
Arlecchino, who is not afraid to punch any man or women who tries to hurt you in any way.
Childe, who is probably the best big brother aside from Pantalone. He joined the Fatui when you were 11 and he was 14, so you two got along very easily and were constantly together.
Childe, who would pull pranks with you on the others but Dottore or Sandrone were quick to catch on with whatever you two would create and Pierro would end up lecturing you both.
Childe, who records literally everything the two of you do, whether it be sneaking out to go to parties, breaking something in the workplace or pranks you created. He has a lot of blackmail on you, comrade.
Childe, who promises you that whatever happens in high school, stays there, unless it’s horrible to the point he has to get your father involved.
Childe, who is in his last year (senior) while you’ve just started high school (freshman) and he threatens all the seniors to make sure no one looks at you in the wrong way because 1, it would probably be a felony given they’re all 18 and 2, the men in his grade are disgusting.
Childe, who once (not once he’s done it a bunch of times) beat up a guy in your grade for looking at you the wrong way. He had to stop when it was on the verge of expulsion, but he thinks the message got across to all the men. The ladies can deal with Signora, seeing as she can waltz in given she was an alumni.
Childe, who is now in university, but he decides to come back from his university to be your prom escort. He is still childish, and he did promise that what happens in high school, stays there, so if you both ditch prom later to get McDonald’s or go to a party, no one will ever know.
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ninthskzmember · 28 days
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Sweet revenge
Hwang Hyunjin x reader.
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idol!hyunjin x idol!reader word count: 1,3k warnings: kinda angsty, jealous hyunjin (lives in my head rent free), resentful reader, swearing. note: hi guys! i just wanted to keep a little update for you all while i'm working with the 2min sharing is caring part. i hope you enojoy this. <3 love ya.
"So you're really doing it"
"I'm totally doing it"
"Everyone is gonna know..."
"Yeah, that's kind of the idea" You smiled at her "I want him to feel as stupid as I did"
"Yeah, I get it but―"
"Stop defending him" you cutted her off. "If you're on his side then be, but don't come here and annoy me"
"I'm not" she added "What he did was wrong, periodt. BUT" she emphasized the last word "You'll expose him in front of everyone"
"He will know"
"Okay, but the people who knew you will know too" she paused "plus he sucks at hiding shit"
"That's on him, he sucks at media training" you laughed when remembered the many times he almost exposed your relationship with him just because his goofyness.
"Okay, I'm just warning you" she smiled and walked towards you "Have fun and break a leg" she hugged your body and let you go.
"Thank you, Somi" You smiled at her and moments later, she left.
[Later that day...]
'I met a guy in the summer and I left him in the spring, he argued with me about everything.'
Your song started blasting on the huge speakers from the award show, the sound of the drums was making the people's chest even vibrate a bit
'He had an ego and a temper and a wandering eye, he said he's six foot two and I'm like dude... nice try.'
And there it was, the first direct lyrics against your ex lover, standing right in first row with his beloved members right beside him.
You weren't even trying to hide that you wanted to see his reactions over the lyrics, you kept an eye on his table from the first moment you got a foot on stage.
'But he was so much fun, and he had such weird friends, and he would take us out to parties and the night would never end. Another song, another club, another bar, another dance, and when he'd said something wrong, he'd just fly me to France.'
You knew his members knew about you, so there was no surprise to you when they laughed out loud with the 'weird friends'.
When the song reached the France line, in the screens from the place there were shown many pictures of you in the country... The ones that Hyunjin took for you in his own little camera. Yes, you'd save them for years if you needed to.
'So I miss him some nights when I'm feeling depressed, till I remember all the times he made a pass on my friend. Do I love him? Do I hate him? I guess it's up and down; If I had to choose... I would say right now...'
Long pause, just to have him on his tippy toes. Jeongin was literally grabbing him, waiting for the music to break and expecting the next lyrics.
'I want to get him back, wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad. Oh, I want to get him back, 'cause then, again, I really miss him and it makes me real sad'
Audience screaming and moving their hands in the air to the rhythm of the music, and a 'I can't believe it' kind of expression in Hyunjin's face was everything that you needed to feel fulfilled.
'Oh, I want sweet revenge. I want him again. I want... To get him back, back, back'
You sang these lyrics while dancing along with Beomgyu, who was banging his head along with the music. You knew Hyunjin was going to be upset about it, you had a zillion discussions with your ex-lover about this guy, and that's why you did it.
'So I write him all these letters and I throw them in the trash cause I miss the way he kisses and the way he made me laugh'
You changed your lyrics while singing live 'the way he grabs my ass' while the backing track stayed true to the official line. Shocked everyone in the room, including your own friends in the building, who knew the real lyrics but didn't expect you to be explicit at this event.
'Yeah, I pour my little heart out, but as I'm hitting "Send"
I picture all the faces of my disappointed friends'
You pointed to those friends in question: Somi, Karina, Giselle, Yujin, Yunjin, and Chaewon between others, who screamed their lungs off from your action, hyping you up.
'Because everyone knew all of the shit that he'd do
He said I was the only girl but that just wasn't the truth'
You side-eyed him and then did the same thing with Yeji, who looked fastly to the floor, hiding her face and then looking away.
Everyone in the industry knew you weren't one to mess with, and yet, those two did.
This was just the begging of a long plan you made up to get your sweet revenge to the one who broke your trust and heart and the one who went along with it.
'And when I told him how he hurt me, he'd tell me I was trippin'. But I am my father's daughter, so maybe I could fix him'
You flutterer your eyes to the camera at the end of the lyric and the chorus started again, you repeating your actions from before.
[...]
"What do you want?" You asked when you observed him through the mirror
"What was all that about?"
"A song I wrote, why?" You asked, not even bothering to turn around and engage the conversation
"I know you wrote it" he rolled his eyes
"Did it touch you deep inside?" You laughed, still eating some snacks
"You shouldn't have done that. The France pictures? Y/n, that was risky"
"Risky?" You turned back this time "Fuck off, Hyunjin. Fuck you, and Yeji. Oh wait, you've already done that"
"Why are you not taking your makeup off?" He ignored your comment "You always take your makeup off after performing"
"Because I've got a date and I like the makeup" you smiled
"Oh, do you? Who is it?"
"Why do you care?" You brought another snack to your lips
"Is it Beomgyu?"
"Why do you care so much who's dick I ride?" You frowned
"You had sex with him already?" His ears turned red
"It's none of your business. Keep your dick inside Yeji and don't bother me."
"We were wasted, I didn't mean to do it. You know it" the man stared at you trying to hide his emotions.
"I don't care! You hurt me, Hyunjin. I was the one to find you two having naked aftercare. AFTERCARE. You don't do aftercare with a one-time-accidental hook up." You sighted for a moment "I won't fucking cry and ruin my makeup. Leave. Now." Your eyes were already watery as you tried to stop the tears
"I won't." He stood his ground in front of you
"Leave, they're gonna pick me up any minute and I don't want you here to ruin it"
"No. Please forgive me, I didn't mean to hurt you." he took your hand and you pulled it away quickly
"Don't touch me. My trust in you is broken, there's no going back" you denied as you took a few steps away from him
"Please" his eyes were the ones that were watery now, you could tell he was being honest, but you couldn't forgive him after what he made you feel.
"Y/ninnie, time to gooo" A voice cooed from the door as you froze
"Chan Hyung?" Hyunjin turned himself faster than ever, as his eyes met his leaders
"Hyunjin? I... I didn't expect you here" the older one blinked a few times as you observed everything from behind Hyunjin's body
"Hyung... What are you doing here?"
You thought that getting him back was gonna make everything better, but hearing the hurt in his voice broke you even more.
"Mate, I can explain" His leader walked inside
Hyunjin didn't even say another word, he just walked past his member, looking back at both of you, and left the room as one tear rolled down his face.
You felt how your world crashed inside of you. Turns out that getting him back was not what you needed, and just hurt yourself even more.
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haruwuchiyoo · 3 months
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Merry Christmas, I Could Care Less | Step Brother!Oliver Aiku (18+)
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Happy holidays, from the world's worst older brother <3
a/n: I just couldn't stay away from The Worst Guy You Know I fear. have some absolute debauchery for the festive season, on me, as a treat. this is a little timeskip set in the world of my other fic. not proofread. this is dark content smut. minors dni.
w/c: 5.5k (behaved myself this time)
c/w: f!reader, stepcest/pseudocest, slight dubcon??, alcohol consumption, slight dacryphilia??, piv sex, oliver covers readers mouth, finger sucking, oliver manhandles the reader a bit, unprotected sex, creampie, as always if you spot something you think needs tagging, let me know &lt;3
Don't come home for Christmas You're the last thing I want to see Underneath the tree Merry Christmas, I could care less
divider by me, song inspo was Yule Shoot Your Eye Out by Fall Out Boy! part of the @enchantedforest-network
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Ah, Christmas.
Who doesn't love obligatory “quality” family time. You moved out of home three years ago now, but always returned to your father and stepmother’s home for all the major holidays. The house has changed a lot in the three years thanks to your parents' empty nest, your father's promotion, and a few other things. 
Standing here now, at your father's annual Christmas party, the house almost feels alien. Lavishly decorated top to bottom in what is definitely the most ostentatious fashion, the place looks gorgeous. The air smells like cinnamon and cloves as you enter, many well dressed business men and their families smile politely at you, wishing you a happy holidays, or making small talk, how was your final year of college, if you're seeing anyone, the usual, as you make your way to the kitchen, towards your parents.
You weren't seeing anyone, and you think most of them know that. You haven't dated anyone that lasted long enough to introduce to your parents, much to their dismay. “You're getting older, you know!” You recall your father saying. Funny, you think, considering you aren’t even the eldest, yet he seems to be immune from such expectations.
He’s even immune from being here for the holidays, you haven’t even seen him since you left the house. He favours being abroad, which meant you had to show up, to be the one who deals with the parental questions, the nosiness, the expectations.
In a way, you were glad for that. It was consistent, you came, acted the good daughter, and left as soon as you possibly could, and didn’t have to deal with him, either. It was nice, predictable, and stable.
The kitchen was less populated than other spaces of the house, though a few groups were still mingling about. You overhear conversations you vaguely understand from the bits of knowledge you’ve gained from your father, finances, end of year figures, nothing you care enough about. You scan the room in search of your parents, and suddenly, the room grows smaller.
Across the kitchen, a familiar figure looms over everyone else. Shaggy dark hair, with shades of bright green breaking out at the bottom, your step brother Oliver stands with a glass of red wine in his hand, chatting to a young woman in a dress that seems a little short for a fancy Christmas party like this. You feel your knees grow unsteady beneath you.
Three years. It’s been three years since you last saw him. But it still feels like yesterday in many ways, the night you sat in his arms in his room, sobbing into his chest after he told you he’d been scouted by an Italian soccer team, and would be moving there in a few months, leaving you behind. “You knew this couldn’t last forever, baby.” 
You did, of course you did. It didn’t make losing your first love, who happened to be your goddamn stepbrother, any easier. It didn’t help that Oliver had done nothing to help that situation, driving any and all men who even looked in your direction away pretty swiftly. You were never sure if Oliver actually cared about you like you did him, or if it was just convenient to keep his dear little sister so dependent on him. You always assumed the latter, since leaving seemed to have no perceivable impact on him. Sending him off at airport security, standing next to his sobbing mother, you felt numb, unsure of what to do from here.
When the first Christmas rolled around, you were excited to see him again, but weeks before, he cancelled, claiming he was still adjusting to his move. You were crestfallen, but understanding. As other holidays came, birthdays, anniversaries, there was always an excuse, a reason he couldn’t come home. You’d grown not to expect him, and eventually, resent him.
Who was he, to do this to you? To make you so reliant, to take advantage of such a situation, and leave you like this, with so little closure? He promised he’d stay in contact, and he did, for a while. But slowly, it faded, and your stepbrother became a ghost in your life, haunting the halls of a very confused mind.
You couldn’t even share the heartache, afraid of the suspicion you could potentially arouse from being this upset your stepbrother was gone. You couldn’t let anyone know how big the hole he had left in your heart.
You’re pulled from your swirl of emotions when a pair of warm hands cover your eyes, and you almost jump out of your skin.
“Shūto!” You squeal, and he’s hugging you back just as tight. Shūto Sendou, your stepbrother’s best friend, was one of the only other males in your life, the only one Oliver allowed in your life. You always loved him, he was kind, and funny, and he always looked out for you. He was aware of yours and Oliver’s relationship, and wasn’t exactly shy about telling you he thought it was a bad idea, at least when Oliver wasn’t in earshot.
“Guess who?~”
Your fright is sound pushed aside and replaced with excitement. Your hands fly to grab the wrists of your “assailant”, tugging them away and turning to wrap the person in a tight hug in one swift movement. 
Of course, you knew he was right, and Shūto knew that you knew, but he also knew you were in deep, so he did his best instead to at least look out for you. He had been a breath of fresh air many times, and a shoulder to cry on when he had, more than once, had to take your incredibly intoxicated ass home, when Oliver refused to leave, and listened to you cry about how he was probably with some other girl. You had been a source of a little tension between him and Oliver, but not enough to end a years-long friendship.
“Happy to see me?” He gives you a coy smirk, pushing back his salmon pink hair. Of course you were. He had been scouted by the same team as Oliver, which had made everything even harder. Sendou and you had kept in touch with each other, and you had asked him about Oliver a few times early on, but that had stopped as your bitterness grew, and Sendou was more than happy to not talk about it. Shuto usually did come home for the holidays, though he had missed last year’s party.
“I suppose I am.” You let your arms drop as you nod, still smiling ear to ear. “How’s Italy been?”
He gives a slight sigh, but he’s still smiling when he speaks.
“Hard work. Between training and keeping your brother out of trouble.” His smile wavers slightly as he notices your grimace at Oliver’s mention.
“Stepbrother.” You quickly correct, and he nods apologetically. 
“Anyway…” he starts to change the topic, but you cut in again.
“He’s home.” You state flatly.
“He is..” Shūto rubs at the back of his neck.
“Did you know he was coming?” You raise a brow, accusingly. He had to, he and Oliver were inseparable, two of a kind.
“I found out yesterday, when he showed up to the airport. I guess the monthly paycheck to his mom wasn’t enough this year. Your father actually called him and politely requested he come home.” Sendou’s face tells you your father in fact told Oliver to come home. It was nice in a way, to know you weren’t alone in the seasonal pressure this year, though you still wished he wasn’t here.
You're about to scold him, to tell him you wished he’d given you some sort of heads up, when your father interrupts, coming up behind Sendou.
“Shūto, my boy, good to see you. May I steal my daughter away?” He asks, hand resting on the salmon haired man's shoulder.
“Of course, and thanks for the invite. Happy Holidays, Sir.” Shūto nods his head, not missing the accusatory glance as he abandons you once more to your father, who’s now quickly ushering you away towards the living room. You cast a quick glance over your shoulder, and unsurprisingly, Oliver and the girl, are gone.
You and your father arrive in the brightly lit living room, twinkling lights and too much tinsel near blinding you as you look at the room teeming with people. You expect him to bring you towards your stepmother, but instead he brings you over to one of his work friends. Oh no. You know where this is going to go.
“I always liked that boy” Your father muses as you walk, regarding you from the corner of his eye.
“Don’t. Shūto and I are just friends.” You sigh exasperatedly. “And anyway, Oliver would blow a gasket.”
“Oli would want you to be happy.” He says, curtly.
It takes everything not to give a bitter laugh.
You're ready for a polite, but short conversation as the figure turns, but when he looks at you, you can’t say you’re mad at your father right now. You’re met with a polite and disarming smile, easy and gentle, and a pair of near amber eyes behind a pair of circular rimmed glasses. Your father and his father have quickly busied themselves with other things.
“I want to introduce you to someone.” Your father sing songs cheerily.
“Dad-” You start, but a quick but sharp look causes you to bite your tongue. Instead, you inhale through your nose, and force your most polite smile as you look now at the older man and the figure beside him, who’s back is to you as he talks to someone else. The stranger gives a sharp elbow to the seemingly younger figure beside him, and you know from this familiar scenario, they’re father and son.
He’s polite, and the aura around him is easy going for such an effortlessly handsome young man. You take his hand and shake it, introducing yourself a little more meekly than you’d like. Even now, after all this time, after all the anger towards him, you still feel like you’re doing something wrong, talking to a boy. You feel awkward, unsure of what really to say before your stepmother gently taps your shoulder, and shoves a glass of wine in your hand wordlessly before flitting away to other things.
You realise you’ve been staring a little longer than is polite in silence, and are about to speak when he beats you to the punch.
“I’m about as sorry for my father as I assume you are for yours right now,” He chuckles softly as he offers you a hand, you see the hint of what is an undoubtedly expensive watch beneath the cuff of his well pressed shirt. “I’m Yukimiya Kenyu. You can call me Yuki, if you like.”
“Yeaah.. I get that,” He laughs again, and you smile at the sound behind your glass. “My father loves these things too, anything to rub a few elbows.” He shrugs, and you can actually feel yourself relax. He doesn’t seem snobby or stuffy, like the usual types your father has dumped on you on occasions prior.
You and Yuki laugh somewhat awkwardly as you gingerly take a sip from your glass.
“Your mother’s a diligent hostess.” Yuki chuckles as he adjusts his glasses.
“Mmm,” You hum and nod your head. “Stepmother, actually. My mother hated these parties. As the years go on, I’m starting to understand that stance more and more.” You give a giggle, and internally, you cringe. Both from the impolite nature of your inference, and the fact you just giggled like a little girl. If Yuki was bothered however, he doesn’t show it.
“Who’s your new friend?”
The conversation flows easier from here, and after another glass of wine, you realise you’ve been talking very easily to Yuki for a lot longer than you expected to be.
“Well, I gotta say, as far as schmoozefests go, this one hasn���t been so bad.” Yuki hums, offering a clearly flirtatious smirk that makes your heart skip in your chest, and your cheeks warm.
“Glad to know I make good company.” You quip back, returning his smirk with matched energy.
“Sorry for being so forward, but could I get your nu-” He starts.
Your blood feels like it’s turned to ice in your veins, your face dropping as the voice sounds from over your shoulder. Deep, brash, and filled with accusations that only you know. You compose yourself as you smile politely again. You keep your eyes on Yuki as you speak, not daring to look at the man you know towers behind you. By the look on Yuki’s face, you’re near certain he’s being met with a bicoloured glare. The brunette’s expression is one you’ve seen before.
You turn on your heels, heading out of the living room. You’re barely out into the hall when a large hand is around your wrist, and dragging you up the stairs.
“Oliver, this is Yuki. Yuki, this is-”
“Oliver. Her brother.”
“Stepbrother.” You offer, meekly. Yuki casts you a glance, before looking back to Oliver, holding out his hand.
“Nice to meet you, man. Heard a lot about you from-” Oliver cuts him off, his hand gripping your shoulder.
“My mom’s looking for you. S’urgent.” Oliver says, flatly.
“Damn, I’ll be back, okay? I’ll find you when I’m done?” You offer Yuki, who seems a little taken back at Oliver’s interruption, but he gives you a little nod.
“See you then.”
“Oliver. Let go.” You hiss quietly, trying not to garner too much attention from the few people lingering in the hallway that connect the livingroom and kitchen. A few heads turn, but it’s not a totally unusual sight, and they go back to their conversations.  You’re in the upstairs hallway before he says a word.
“So it’s Oliver again, huh?” His glare is as familiar as it is unfamiliar as he hulks over you. He seems even bigger now, if that’s possible, clearly a professional training regime has had quite the effect on his build. He tries to play his smirk off as cool, unbothered, but there’s a sneer to it. “Not even a hello for your Nii-chan, baby?”
The term causes you to stiffen, causes bile to burn at the back of your throat. Who the fuck does he think he is? He left. He stopped coming home. He stopped calling, stopped texting. He waltzed right out of your life, left you bereft and confused, probably like plenty of girls before you. But the trouble was, you couldn’t just pretend he didn’t exist, you didn’t have the ability, because he’s there, at your parent’s house, in all your family photos.
“Anyway, you were busy when I got here. What happened, did you get bored of her too?” You jab your finger against his chest, trying to keep your voice quiet, but still firm. The look he gives you is one of what seems to be sincere confusion, searching his brain for what you could possibly be talking about. Then, in a move that infuriates you further, the bastard laughs.
“What about you? Couldn’t pick up a phone?” You spit, crossing your arms defensively. The sneer seems to waver now, and his eyes cast to the side.
“I.. Well..-” He stumbles over his words, unsure of where exactly he wants to go with this, but the wine has made your tongue looser, and your anger boil over.
“You mean Sendou’s older sister? She knows no one else here, she’s been living in Sendai for the last like.. Five years. I was just keeping her company.” He’s smiling again, smug. “Looks like my little sister is just as jealous as ever, hm?” He quirks a brow, taking a step closer to you. You take several back, keeping space between the two of you.
“Like that’d stop you. Though, an older sister, huh? That’s a nice change of pace.” There’s so much venom in your voice, even quietened, and it surprises even you, but you refuse to back down now. Years of anger, of sadness, of feeling so taken advantage of; this was overdue and then some.  His expression darkens again, accompanied by a roll of his heterochromatic eyes.
“Still a fucking brat, too, I guess.” He’s keeping his voice low too, and laced with anger, it comes out near a growl. In your attempt to keep distance, you realise you’ve now blocked your access to the stairs. You don’t entirely care.
“Fuck you, Oliver. Fuck. You.” Away from the stairwell, away from wandering eyes, your voice raises slightly, though you hate the way it wavers. You do mean it, you sincerely do., it’s just that, looking at him now, it makes you near tremble with rage. He turned everything upside down. More things than you could count. And he just pops back up, and he’s still as possessive as he was before. You’re just another of Oliver Aiku’s toys, but he wrote his name on you, so to speak.
Consumed in your swirl of anger, you hadn’t noticed Oliver close the gap between you in a single easy stride. Before you know it, you’re backed up against a door, the upstairs bathroom door, with your chest pressed against yours, and his large hand gripping your jaw. You squirm, it’s a little rougher than you’d like.
“S’that a request, doll? Seems you’ve forgotten your manners since I left.” His voice is low, it’s dangerous, and it’s right next to your ear, the stupid stubble on his face tickling at your skin. You lean your head away, or try to against his grip, trying to get away from those poisonous lips. Oliver wastes no time however, in attaching those lips to your neck, right against that spot that makes your entire body tense and then immediately relax. But your hands still press against his chest, trying in vain to push against that familiar brick wall.
“Oliver, nng- Stop.” Your voice isn’t as firm as it was before, and you hate that. Hate that he feels familiar, feels secure. Despite everything he’s put you through, no one’s hands made you feel as secure (and conflicted) as Oliver’s. Any time anyone else touched you, it didn’t feel right. He’d marred you for everyone else.
He doesn’t stop. The kisses trail upwards, and he manhandles your jaw to keep you from curling your neck in on him. He licks at your jaw, lips against your ear again. “Come on, baby, you know you missed your Nii-chan.”
Your hands ball into the fabric of his white dress shirt, tensing your jaw as you attempt to steel your resolve. You try to shake your head in his grip, but you can’t. Your thighs press together, desperate to stave off the growing feeling between your legs. You feel his hand glide past your waist, hear it fumble with the handle of the door. It falls open, and you’re both stumbling back into the bathroom. You hear the door close and the lock click.
“Oh, but it is. You told me she’s mine, sweetheart.” He starts to massage you over the flimsy fabric, and you sigh heavily before biting down on your lip to force down any more sounds. You don’t want to fold to him, not again, but it’s so hard to fight him, to fight the touch that knows every inch of your body, nearly better than you know your own. “A little distance doesn’t change that.”
“Oliver…” You whimper as he pushes you back against the sink, hands either side of you. His lips are back against your jaw with little time wasted.
“Have you been with anyone else?” He huffs between heated open mouthed kisses.
“That- That’s none of your business..” You exhale shakily as his hand roams up the inside of your thigh. It pushes up your skirt slightly, and you clamp your thighs together around his hand. He uses minimal strength to pry your thighs apart once more, and slides his hand higher, cupping your pussy over your panties.
A little distance. It makes your anger bubble again, but Oliver’s fingers hook into your underwear and tug them to the side. The pads of his fingers press against your clit, and your body jolts. You press your hips back against the cabinet beneath the sink, away from his touch, but he follows, and presses the heel of his palm against your pubic bone, sinking two fingers into you as he does, keeping you firmly in place.
“Good girl.” He coos, and his eyes drop to his hand watching as his fingers disappear into your dripping cunt with rapt attention. His free hand rests on your hip, thumb rubbing tenderly over your body. “Missed you, you know that?”
You fight to close your legs again, but your eyelids flutter as they grow heavy. You hate to admit it, but you missed him. You missed his touch. Missed him inside you. You whimper as he begins to slowly pump his fingers inside you, and you look up at him now. His eyes meet yours, and a sly smile spreads on his lips.
“There she is..” He hums, leaning down to press his lips to your forehead. “So I’ll ask again. Have you been with anyone else?”
“No..” You shudder, his fingers curling slowly inside your heat.
“No, what?”
“Hmph.. No, Nii-chan.” You whine, finally pressing yourself into his touch. As the words fall from your lips, his fingers finally press into the all important spot inside you, and your hips buck immediately.
The feelings of confusion this statement causes swirl in your gut, and mixing with the pleasure it almost feels too much. Tears start to well in your lash line, and your hands reach out, wrapping around his neck. You just want him closer. It’s stupid, it’s ridiculous but you need him closer. He nuzzles his nose against yours, and the pace of his fingers quickens.
“Missed you too, Oli.. missed you so much.” You pant out, but it wavers into a sob.
“Can tell, baby, can feel it.” His voice is soft, but it’s still laced with that smug Oliver inflection, the voice that plays in your head over and over. One that you’ve longed to hear again for three years now. He works his fingers expertly, until your thighs are shaking and you’re a sobbing mess in his arms, his hand from your hip now clamped over your mouth to stifle your moans.
You look up at him with pathetic wet eyes, every nerve on your body standing on edge as you teetered dangerously close to your orgasm, whole body shaking in his arms.
“Nii-chan, I’m gonna cum.” You cry out pitifully against his palm, your fingers grasping at his wrist until you're sure you're leave little crescents in his skin. You’re just about to tip over the edge, finally about to experience your first orgasm at the hands of your twisted love in three excruciating years, when he pulls his fingers from you without any warning.
“M’sorry, baby,” He shushes you, leaning over you as stubbled lips press a kiss to your bare shoulder. The feeling is tender, intimate, and entirely uncharacteristic of him. You feel the weight of his forehead against the back of your neck, heavy as he inhales deeply before pressing another kiss to the top of your spine as he exhales against your skin, and hear the sound of his belt buckle opening. “Y’know I'm greedy. Need to feel you cum on my cock first, yeah?”
The loss is too much; it's too cruel— that another sob rakes through you, from the pit of your stomach right up to your throat. 
“Oli! Why-” You're interrupted by him turning you around. 
At his words, you arch your back and brace your hands on the sides of the bathroom counter, and you don't miss the way he cursed under his breath at the sight, gravelly and so Oliver as he hikes your dress right up around your waist. It’s a quick movement and entirely eager and only seconds later, you feel the thick, sticky tip of Oliver’s thick cock slide up through your folds.
You don’t even hear the end of the question, you feel your whole body melt around him, melt back into him, and it feels like a long festering itch is finally getting scratched. You forget the anger, forget the bitterness, because Oliver is back with you, your Oliver. Right now, you could care less about anything else, you just want him. And his large hands gripping your waist, his lips blazing trails over your neck as he finally starts a slow, steady rhythm as he pumps into you, that sick satisfaction of something so wrong feeling so deliciously right has you on cloud nine, blissful and hazy.
You shudder and push your hips back, growing thoroughly impatient.
“Oli, please. Need you.” You whine, too far gone to care about whether or not you sounded completely pathetic at this point. Your big brother simply laughs, and swats at the fat of your ass, causing you to yelp.
“Keep it down, doll. You don’t wanna get caught taking nii-chan’s cock,” Oliver’s voice is still low, quiet, and entirely self satisfied, as he slowly sinks himself into you. “Do you?”
“Fuck, still the best fucking pussy I’ve had, baby.. My perfect little sister.” From his reflection in the mirror, Oliver looks like he’s holding it together about as well as you are. Your eyes don’t meet his in the mirror, because his eyes seem firmly fixed on your figure beneath him. You struggle to pull your own eyes from him, too. He looks good. Standing more upright now, his tie hangs loose around his neck, and his shirt is partially unbuttoned, a slight sheen already appearing on his broad chest at his gradually increasing pace. Bicoloured eyes are heavy lidded as he watches himself sink into you, and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth.
The combination of your heavy panting and stifled moans, and Oliver’s grunts and growls, fill the room, the two of you struggling to keep the noises down the more lost you become in each other. Oliver is back leaning over you, humming praises in your ear about how good you’re taking him, how good his pussy feels wrapped around him, and the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter with each saccharine syllable that falls from his lips.
“Wanted you so bad, Oli, m-missed your- nngh~ cock bad.” Your voice is a broken whimper, and your words immediately spur Oliver into driving his hips harder into you, rougher and faster, and your hand flies to your mouth to cover a particularly pornographic moan from spilling from your throat. No sooner than you do, Oliver reaches from behind and yanks your hand away, holding it behind your back.
“Don’t be shy now, babygirl. You weren’t so coy with four-eyes back there.” His lips are right next to your ear as he thrusts deep again, successfully knocking a strangled moan from you this time. You focus on the mirror again, and this time you’re met with those damn eyes, the eyes that have completely warped your entire world. “Were you trying to make your big brother jealous?” He starts slowing his pace. Not much, but enough for you to notice, enough for you to feel your orgasm start to slip away from you once again.
“N-no!” You squeak frantically, eyes pleading with him in the mirror. You inhale slightly to compose yourself as best you can, hoping to draw on his merciful side “No, Nii-chan.”
His free hand snakes around your torso to hold your jaw, forcing you to look in the mirror.
“What would he think if he saw you like this, hm? Messy little slut..” His voice is husky in your ear, heavy with his breathing as he returns to the quicker pace that has you white knuckling the countertop while you try to stop the pleasured cries in your chest. He’s right, though. You are a mess right now. Your once neatly styled hair is a mess, damp with sweat from the stuffy nature of the bathroom. Your makeup is ruined, smudged from tears, Oliver’s hands, and both of your saliva.
His chest is pressed down against your back once more in an instant, his spit coated fingers finding your clit in seconds. It’s just what you need to tip you over. Seconds later, you’re cumming, and cumming hard. You pray the music and chat downstairs is loud enough to cover your cries of euphoria as your vision goes white. It only takes a few more sloppy thrusts before Oliver follows you over that edge, painting your insides for the first time in too long with his cum. You’re surprised when he pulls out, turns you around, and smothers your lips with his once more.
But you don’t particularly care, not right now. You can worry about that later, right now, all you want is release. You’re inclined to say you need it. Your reflection would definitely be embarrassing if you weren’t in the headspace you’re in right now.
“Don’t worry baby, still think you’re real pretty. Prettiest in the whole world.” He squishes your cheeks together between his fingers to emphasise his words, and despite the smirk on his lips, those mismatched eyes actually look like they have hearts in them, look at you like you put stars in the sky yourself. It’s now you realise, maybe the silence from Oliver was something different. Maybe he was hurting just like you were.
“Think you’d look even prettier cumming on this dick though, what about you?” He questions, and as you open your mouth to reply, he slips two of his fingers into your mouth, toying with and massaging your pretty pink tongue.. All you can do now is hum desperately around his digits, and nod your head frantically. “Just gotta do one thing for me first, ‘kay?” His own voice is strained, and you can see the veins on the side of his neck. He’s just as close as you are.
You nod eagerly once again, and suck harshly on his fingers. Your orgasm is so close you can almost taste it.
“I need you to say it. Been so long since I heard it.”
You know exactly what he means. And you hate that he’s pulling it now. Using it as a bargaining chip. Hate that he’s digging up the memory of the last time those words were uttered, through hiccups and tears when it felt like your world was crashing down around you. You hate that you swore not long after, you’d never say those words again.
What you hate most, however, is that as he slips his fingers from your mouth, you don’t even hesitate.
“I love you, Nii-chan.”
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It’s a little while later when you make your way down the stairs. Your legs still feel a little unsteady beneath you. Oliver had headed down long before you. You had to do a lot more work to fix yourself up than he did. You were thankful some of your cosmetics were under the sink, left behind from previous holidays or visits in recent times. Anyone who’d paid close attention to your makeup might notice a difference, but you think your recreation is sufficient enough.
When you reach the hallway, you spare a quick glance to the living room. You see Yuki, talking to his father, and feel a little bit of shame in your stomach, but what you surmise in your head to be not nearly enough shame for ditching what seemed to be a very nice young man to hookup with your brother at your parent’s Christmas party. You duck your head as you head into the kitchen.
Most of the people in the kitchen now are your family and their closer friends, Sendou stands in the corner laughing with his sister, Oliver and your father are standing near the kitchen counter, helping his mother pour another tray of drinks. You make your way over to them, feeling a lot less tense than you did earlier.
“Hi, honey. Are you feeling better?” Your stepmom’s voice is chipper, and you can tell she’s a little tipsy. “Oli said you were a little bit unwell, said you were resting upstairs.” Sometimes, you were thankful Oliver was such a good liar.
“Oh, yeah. Much better, thanks.” You give a nod, and your best reassuring smile. It’s then Oliver pipes up from beside you, nudging your arm with his elbow as he looks up.
“Well, would you look at that.” Oliver hums. He can’t be serious. 
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Above the two of you, mistletoe hangs from the ceiling.
Oliver turns to you, cups your cheeks in his hands, and leans down to press a kiss against your forehead. His mother and a few of your relatives coo and “aw” at the seemingly innocent and sweet gesture. From the corner of your eye, you see Sendou shift uncomfortably on his feet.
“Merry Christmas, kiddo.” Oliver’s voice is cheerful as he chuckles, full of mirth. He ruffles your hair as he stands upright again.
“Love ya.”
© haruwuchiyoo 2024 | you do not have permission to steal, repost or translate my works.
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209 notes · View notes
artists-ally · 2 months
Note
Hi! I love your writing and I just wanted to ask if you could make a fic about Azriel and a chronically ill reader? I have Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, and it can be really difficult sometimes. I’m currently in a flare-up and I would love to see what Azriel would be like if he had a partner with a chronic illness 🩵 please and thank you!
{The Fixer} Azriel x Reader
Hi my love!!! While I myself do not know what it's like to live with a chronic illness, my mom has chronic migraines and I was always the one taking care of her. I hope you enjoy and are taking as best care of yourself as you can through this flare-up my love <3 Title and story inspired by this song.
Word Count: 2,193
Warnings: struggles of chronic illness, headaches, vomiting, fluff
Tagging: @cyrygher @thelov3lybookworm @librafairy @blessthepizzaman @needylilgal022 @bubybubsters @harrystylesfan2686 @justdreamstars
Summary: Azriel notices. Even when you try to hide it from him. There is nothing he hates more than seeing you in pain, and it's his mission to make you feel as comfortable as possible.
~~~~~~~~~~
Whether it was the dots spreading across my vision or the ache set deep in every bone in my body, I knew I was off. Short of the normal dizziness and weakness I had, I felt like shit.
I rolled over in bed to find Az gone, and I sighed. Getting to the bathroom was going to be tough. Half an hour went by before I could fully open my eyes and not see the world spinning before. 
The snow was blinding across Velaris, burning my eyes and making me jerk my neck too hard in the opposite direction. Much like my hips and ankles, the joints in my neck screamed for relief. Just a few steps away was the bathroom. If I could get there, to the cabinet above the sink I could get my-
My sweater pocket caught the post on the bed and I got yanked to the floor. Landing shoulders first, pins and needles raced up and down my left arm. Fingers numb. With more than a groan, I rolled off of it and found a new ache in… well, everywhere. 
It took a long time to roll on my hands and knees, but I did it, and now I was on the cold tile. It did wonders for the radiating heat in my freshly injured palms, but it chilled it to the marrow of my bones. 
As much as I wanted to, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stand. The pounding of my head and the rolling of my stomach was enough to force me to sit against the wall opposite the toilet. 
I pulled my head back and tried to breathe. 
Those life changing blue pills that Madja gave me would be useless now. They could only prevent a flare-up if caught at the earliest signs. I’ve been able to catch the past few, but I wasn’t expecting this one. 
Azriel was right when he told me to take it easy during training yesterday. All I wanted to do was prove to him that I could keep up. I knew I couldn't, and so did he, but that wasn’t the point. He shouldn’t just assume I can’t because I’m sick. 
Yet here I am, paying for it on the bathroom floor. 
I could feel the circulatory pattern of my pulse. A never ending cycle of pain. Starting in my head, down my neck and in my teeth. To my shoulder, numbness down my arm and tingling in my finger. The surge of agony in my hip, through my leg and in my knee. Gods my ankle, what did I do to my ankle?
A quick check under my sock and I could see the culprit. A huge bruise accompanied by an abundance of swelling. I must’ve kicked the post in the night again. Or it could’ve been from sparring, or our sprint up the stairs.
I gave up trying to keep tabs on all my possible reasons and focused on the fact that I was all alone in the House of Wind. Azriel, Cassian, and Nesta were all away in Illyria for the day to train a group of new recruits. Nuala and Cerridwen were here, but I always feel weird asking them for help. 
I can make it to the evening. I’ll get up and I’ll take that pill, even if it will only decrease the length not the strength of this flare-up. Anything. I’ll do anything to get it over quicker so I’ll be back to normal. 
On the count of three, I’ll get up. I’ll push with the strength I’ve built up from training with Az. I’ll push myself up and grab the pill and go back to bed. 
One.
Two.
Three.
My arms do nothing but scream in pain, and my legs lose feeling. I go nowhere but back on my ass. I try again, after another count of three. Nothing. Holding my breath while doing it only makes the dizziness worse. And the nausea. 
I drag myself over to the toilet and empty whatever is left in my stomach. It’s not much, and it burns on the way up. Tears fill my eyes and mucus fills my nose and throat. I know when pain and headaches get so bad you vomit, the episode is going to be particularly brutal. 
My skin is damp and I start to shake. Water. I need water. 
I flush and manage to make it on the toilet. I turn on the sink with some blind movement and I’m greeted with the lovely sound of water. I can’t lift my left arm any more and I think it might be out of socket. I can’t tell. Doesn’t matter. I scoop some water into my mouth, but most of it makes it down my shirt instead. 
I let it run and run and run, letting the cool liquid calm my swimming head. 
At some point I laid my head down and didn’t pick it back up. I stayed in this awful state of micro sleep, sometimes drifting off, sometimes thinking I’m dreaming but I’m just letting my mind wander. The bright morning sun turned into the dull brightness of the afternoon. I think. 
My heart beat loudly in my ears. Then it would stop, and then it would start again. My pulse was taunting me. It must be. It sounded like Azriel’s wings which only made me miss him more. The memory of his scent blasted through me and the tears started. 
I want him so bad. I need him.
“Shhh, it’s okay, just breathe, Yn.”
My eyes snapped open, and through a blurry mess of tears, Azriel kneeled in front of me. “W-What are you doing here?”
“The second you woke up I could feel your pain,” his thumb slid across my cheek. “I turned around when I realized why. You need help.”
I shook my head, or tried to. It just sorta rolled back and forth. 
“Squeeze my fingers, Yn.” Azriel placed two of his digits in my palms and I squeezed as hard as I could. Not even the tips of his fingers turned red from the pressure. “Are you going to let me help you or are you going to be difficult?”
“I don't want to be difficult. I’m in so much pain.”
“I know, my shadow. I know.”
As gently as he could, he sat me up and carried me to the bed. He took off his armor somewhere along the way, the bony ridges of the scales not digging into me like they normally do. I was eternally grateful for the small detail he remembered. 
Even our mattress hurt just as much as the floor. 
“I need to take a look at you. Where are you hurting the most? Did you fall?”
I nodded deliriously, “My ankle’s a mess. And so is my shoulder. M’arms numb.”
As carefully as he could, he propped me against him and peaked around. I didn’t hear him make any gasps, but I could feel that pull on the bond that meant he didn’t like what he saw.
“How bad?”
“Bad enough for me to call Madja. She’s on her way. I told you to take it easy-”
“Don’t.”
Azriel completely disregarded whatever he was going to say next. “I’m sorry.”
“Just get me the pill, please,” I faulty gestured to the bathroom. He didn’t even move, but then a pill and a cup of water was pressed into my lips. Those shadows of his are so helpful. 
“I didn’t mean anything by what I said. I just don’t like seeing you in pain. It makes me… it makes me wild.”
“I appreciate it, I do Az, but you can’t protect me from everything. And I don’t want you to. There's a reason why I wanted to train with you in the first place.”
“I know, but there's no need to exert yourself to this just to prove a point. I know how tough you are, Yn. You are the strongest, most resilient soul I’ve ever met. But making yourself like this in spite of me is something I never want you doing.”
I smiled, cheeks heating up as I leaned against his chest. His body radiated heat like a roaring fire, and I soaked up every morsel of it. 
With enough pillows and heat packs, I was propped up against the headboard. Soon after, Madja and Nuala came in. I could smell the fresh bread and juice from across the room and my stomach growled. 
“It’s cheese bread with a nice tomato and herb soup. Azriel requested the sweet tea just for you.”
I smiled up at him, my eyes suddenly heavy with love and adoration for my Shadowsinger. 
I ate as Madja poked and prodded. Az held my hand and kissed the tears away when she had to reset my shoulder. By this point, my body was in so much pain that I couldn’t think of anything else. The healer was kind enough to give a sedative and an injection that did something. 
“She’ll be asleep soon,” Madja said across the room to Azriel. “When she wakes, send for me again and I will bring one that doesn’t make her drowsy. Do not let her out of that bed unless she is in your arms, Shadowsinger.”
“Thank you, Madja.” And the door shut. Once again, the bed dipped and he trailed a gentle hand up my legs. “Just go to sleep, my shadow.”
“I hope you know that shot will do nothing, Az.”
“I thought they were working?” He asked, puzzled. 
I shook my head, “I thought so too, but they’re not. There isn't anything you can do to ease the pain, Az. No amount of pills or injections or stimulation therapy will do the trick. I just have to wait it out.”
“So you rest until it passes,” Az climbed in beside me. “I will be here when you wake up.”
“I don’t want to sleep,” I hissed, frustrated tears spilling down my face. “I want to train and go to dinner and drink red wine and dance like the rest of you.”
I couldn't bear to look at him. Couldn’t bear to see the sadness in his eyes. After a long silent moment, he took a deep breath. 
“It’s okay if you need rest. You’re not expected to work or thrive in the condition you’re in. I could tell last night you weren’t feeling good.”
That made me perk up. “How?”
“You get this hazy, far away look. That's how I know you’re in pain.” Azriel muttered, snuggling in close so I could latch on for warmth. “Let me take care of you. Don’t focus on anything other than healing and my warmth. I will be here when you wake up.”
I didn’t care to read into how much he read into me. My heart blazed with thoughts, all of him and those offhanded looks and questions he always asks. He is such an observer.
“I’m the spy for the Night Court, my shadow. Of course I’m observant. I notice everything about you. What makes you smile, what doesn’t. The foods and drinks that give you headaches and swelling. When your flare-ups are coming and when they’re finally withdrawing. I make it my mission to make sure you are as safe and comfortable as possible. I am sorry I wasn't there to help you this morning, love.”
“I felt fine last night, no need to say sorry.” I kissed his cheek, then he kissed my lips. “Thank you for turning around.”
“Cassian thought I had been shot with an arrow with how hard I dove down to the ground to turn around. I felt this rush of pain from you and I thought for a second it was my own. But don’t feel bad. I want to be here anyway. You’re much better than any of those awful camps.”
“I’m a lot better,” I smiled, nuzzling into his chest.
The glint in his voice was enough to make me swoon, “Yes, my shadow. Everything about you is better than those camps.”
-------
Through the rest of the day, Az laid with me, running hands through my hair, massaging my legs when they cramped up. He got me water, food and snacks. Kept the entertainment up when I was in too much pain to nap. All through the night, Azriel held me steady so I wouldn’t accidentally roll around. 
Madja came in the morning with more useless injections, Nuala with a stack of chocolate chip pancakes and fresh bacon. 
I made Az eat some because I didn’t see him steal a crumb earlier. 
Later, he took me into the bath where he scrubbed my scalp, massaging my temples. I tried to do the same for his back and wings, but he refused to let me move. Just sat me in his lap, chest pressed against my back and let us soak for hours. 
As we got out, he sat me on the bed while he gathered clothes for us. Per my request, he kept his shirt off and just through on a set of lounging sweats.
One foot at a time, he put me in the comfiest pair of pants I had. The fleece lined inside keeping out the cold. He put thick socks on my feet and found something to wrap around my top half so I didn't have to move my arm.
We laid back down, me tucked in his arms. I absently stroked the back of his scarred hand.
I was calm. The ache is still present, but ignorable with a few of his stories. I drifted to sleep, in the safest place in Prythian.
"Thank you, Az," I murmured, sleep evident now
He kissed me softly, "Anything for you, my shadow."
~~~~~~
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0oxalieno0 · 4 months
Text
Drunken Nights (Hobie Brown x Reader)
Gender neutral reader
Word count: 2.1k
Sum: Hobie takes care of you after a long night out. Liquid courage reveals some hidden feelings. Reader has anxiety (Reader is a jumper (of conclusions :)) Fluff. Also, everyone is 18+ in this scenario. Some nakedness is involved but nothing crazy. Hobie is a big acts of service guy <3. Also, reader is a sweet, sweet summer child.
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You were nervous, to say the least.
As you stood in line, waiting to get into the venue, you couldn’t help the racing thoughts that filled your head. Sure, you and Hobie had been seeing each other for a couple months now, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that your surprise appearance at his gig might be a bit too intimate for what was, initially, supposed to be a casual hook-up.
Coming out here, and seeing him perform in a crowd with his friends, felt like a step towards uncharted territory.
With a quick glance at your ID and a nod from the bouncer, you make a quick beeline to the bar. You order and chug your drink in quick succession, trying to calm your nerves and the spiral your mind seems determined to take you on. As you get started on your second drink, a pair of bright red Jordans comes into view.
“Sick shoes” you comment. Normally you would keep to yourself, but it seems your mouth and the double-shot vodka cran you just drank, have other plans.
“Thanks” the boy replies. Getting a better look at him he barely looks 18, and by the way his gaze darts around the room nervously, seems to feel just as out of place.
‘Welp’ you think while taking a sip ‘might as well keep the conversation goin’
“So, what are you here for? The booze? The people?”. Looking out into the hoard of heavily tattooed and pierced bodies and back to the boy in what seems to be… a school uniform? with red and black gloves?
“Though, I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that you’re not in it for the crowd”
The boy glances down at his outfit, then back up at you, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Actually, I’m here to see the band playing tonight, but I got caught up with a ro-“ he startles as if saying something he shouldn’t have “I mean studying, that I forgot to change”
“Really?” You fix him with a surprised expression “Wouldn’t have taken you for the punk rock type, you a fan or something?”
The boy smiles to himself “Yeah, I guess you could say that”
“Well, the name’s Y/N” You hold out your hand to shake “and you? Fanboy”
“Miles,” he says sliding his hand into yours “Miles Morales”
**(the cutoff word is robbery) Also Miles is wearing black and red gloves cus he forgot to change out of his suit, oh miles, lol**
Just as you down your second drink and turn to the bartender to get a third for you and your new best friend, ear-splitting microphone feedback fills the room.
“Hello, hello, hello” the speaker on the mic calls out.
You’d recognize that voice anywhere. With your third drink in hand, you turn and look up to see Hobie Brown, looking unbelievably gorgeous under the bright spotlights. “The name’s ‘Obie, ‘Obie Brown and this is my crew” he waves a ringed finger at the musicians behind him “we call ourselves, Eradication!”
The crowd erupts into cheers and you swear you see a few girls swooning in Hobie’s direction. You take a deep swig from your glass, this, is going to be a looong night.
And with that, the band begins throwing themselves into the music. Everyone is amazing, especially the pink-haired drummer in the back, but nothing, or rather no one could compare to Hobie. Sure, he sounded amazing in the confines of your bedroom, but the stage was where he truly belonged. For the next few songs, you can barely take your eyes off him as he seems completely enraptured in a complicated guitar solo, sweat dripping off his forehead in a show of pure concentration. His piercings glint in the light as he head bangs and dances around, absolutely commanding the stage. He is, truly, mesmerizing to watch.
A nudge at your side breaks your rapt attention, and you turn to see Miles half-smirking at you.
“Someone’s got a little crush”
You scoff, trying to brush it off, but say nothing. He truly had no idea. God knows the alcohol has gotten you loose-lipped already and you don’t want to risk revealing more to Miles than he needs to know. Even with your silence, Miles seems to take this as a silent acknowledgment and chuckles at your blushing face, turning his attention back to the show.
By now the night is winding down and more often you notice the chemistry between Hobie and the drummer, as they jam out and steal winks and smiles at each other in-between songs.
Maybe it was a bad idea to come here. You take a look at your half-finished glass and begin throwing the rest of it back, because 1. Mama didn’t raise no quitters and 2. You weren’t about to let any of your 12$ investment go down the drain.
In the time it takes for you to finish and start paying off your tab at the counter, the band has already stopped playing.
“Thank you, thank you everyone. We hope you’ve enjoyed the show, Eradication out!” A final wave of cheers is heard from the audience, as the band jumps off the stage before they circle the band in a sort of meet-and-greet fashion.
Now! Now’s your chance to escape! Before you can even begin making your way towards the exit, a hand grabs your wrist and pulls you through the crowd.
“Hey, Hobie!” Miles greets “This is Y/N, they’re your biggest fan” he teases.
“Y/N?” a low voice questions.
You turn, maybe a bit too quickly, and stumble right into the arms of the person you were trying to escape. Maybe that third drink was a bit overkill. You steady, then look up to see Hobie’s lips curved up in a curious smile.
“Hey” you say shyly, your face heating up, but you’d sooner blame it on the alcohol than on the effect he has over you.
“Hey” he echos back. “I didn’t know you were coming, no calls or texts” he lifts his phone in mock hurt.
“I was trying to surprise you” you whisper, unable to meet his warm eyes.
“Well, you are without a doubt, the prettiest surprise I’ve ever received”.
And without breaking his gaze, he lifts your hand and places a soft kiss against your knuckles. Your heart stalls before remembering to beat. Hobart-fucking-Brown would surely be the death of you.
And with that, Hobie places a gentle hand around your waist and turns to introduce you to the rest of the team. There’s Fish on bass, Cedric on the keys, and finally the very talented Gwen on drums. Absolutely nothing can prepare you for the tight embrace Gwen wraps you in once the two of you are introduced.
“Oh my gosh, you’re the Y/N!!!” She squeals, giving you a wide smile and squeezing you even tighter than you ever thought possible.
“It is so good to finally meet you! Hobie talks about you all the time” she rambles “In fact, I just caught him grinning at his phone the other day, over a pic of the two of you. And sometimes I even catch him mumbling your name in his sleep after practice. It’s honestly too cute, he really is in-“
“Okayyy” Hobie interjects, cutting her off “that’s enough out of you Gwendy”
“Oops” Gwen snorts “sorry bout that, I can get a little carried away sometimes”
You turn to grin at Hobie, half-whispering “I like her honesty”. Hobie just shuts his eyes, shaking head in utter disbelief.
The rest of the night goes without a hitch. You all do a round of shots together (which might be a bad idea, but fuck it). You and Gwen bond over female rock bands and tease Miles over his obsession with action figures. And Hobie holds your hand the entire time, looking at you fondly as you become one of the crew.
As you stifle a yawn, Hobie begins to stand, picking you up along with him.
“I think that’s our cue” he says, holding out your jacket for you to shrug on “I’ve got to get this one home, you got a place to stay tonight Gwen?”
“Yea, I’m gonna crash at Mile’s tonight so you two go on ahead”
You think it’s odd of Hobie to ask where Gwen’s staying, but you’re honestly too bleary-eyed and buzzed to question it further.
“Bye everyone” you wave tiredly.
“Bye Y/N! Bye Hobie!” they echo back.
Then the two of you are out the door. At nearly 2am the streets of London are quiet and the two of you walk in comfortable silence, hand in hand. It isn’t till you hear water splashing and gulls overhead, that you realize you aren’t heading towards your apartment at all.
“Where are we?”
Hobie guides you carefully down a set of creaky wooden stairs, down to the docks, and finally stops at a giant canal boat.
“This” he gestures, waving an arm outward “is my home”
But Hobie never brings you back to his place. It’s always yours, that you end up spending the night at. As you look on at the ship in slight awe, Hobie wraps his hands around your waist, and lowers you down onto the deck, before jumping down next to you. As he leads you through the boat you realize it really is a full-on floating house. There’s a kitchen, some twin guest beds, a couch with a TV, and finally, you end up in the master suite, Hobie’s room.
It’s so him, from the guitars lined up against the wall, to a god save the Queen poster, and even a funny spider doodle on some of the walls, everywhere you look, there he is. As you marvel at the museum that is Hobie Brown’s room, he unzips your jacket and begins to make quick work on your button-up.
“What are you doing?”
He cocks an eyebrow your way but doesn’t show any signs of stopping as he reaches for the zipper at your waistband.
“Getting you, ready for bed” his eyes linger slightly as he helps you shed your clothes, but it isn’t the same one of hunger you usually find when you’re in this situation, instead it’s one of pure affection. After the two of you undress, he leads you to the bathroom.
“You have a shower on this damn thing?!”
He gives you an incredulous look “Do you think I’m some sort of heathen? Of course, there’s a bloody shower”
It’s a tight squeeze, but the two of you manage to fit comfortably pressed up against one another under the shower head. As the warm water heats you up from the cold London night, Hobie takes a bit of shampoo and begins rubbing it into your scalp, making funny shapes with your lathered up hair. Each of you take turns with the conditioner until finally you step back out into Hobie’s room, all toasty and clean.
As you detangle your hair with a hot pink hairbrush you can only assume is Gwen’s, Hobie shows up by your side freshly dressed, holding an oversized (or rather for him, appropriately sized) t-shirt and a pair of boxers.
“Arms up” he instructs.
Doing as you’re told, Hobie slides the Spider-Man t-shirt over your head. Then kneels down, to let you use his shoulder as a crutch while you step into the plaid boxers. He presses a kiss against your inner thigh, making your breath hitch, before rising back up and pulling you towards the bed.
Under the covers, in the darkness, there’s a moment of quiet before-
“Hobie?”
“Yea, love?”
The endearment makes your heart flutter.
“We’re dating, right? Like boyfriend, (preferred romantic title), level dating?”
Another beat of silence lapses, until Hobie abruptly turns the bedside lamp back on.
“Have you not known that we’ve been together for the past two weeks?” He looks at you in disbelief.
“Well, you always said you hated labels and we never really talked about” you wave your finger back and forth “this”
“Shit, that’s true" he admits sheepishly "but I’ve been calling and introducing you as ‘babe’ and 'darling' whenever we’re out”
You share a look, then laugh at the total lack of communication skills between the both of you. After sharing a quick kiss, Hobie reaches out to turn the lamp back off.
“Hobie?” You call out again.
“Yes, Y/N?”
“I love you”
This time there are no beats of silence or hesitation.
“I love you too”
——————————-
Time frame: Hobie + Reader have been seeing each other a little under 3 months and actually dating-dating for 2 weeks.
OMG my first fanfic!!! I hope y’all enjoy and please feel free to leave any comments <3
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leovenuslatina · 7 months
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SINGLES ONLY !! what’s coming up in your love life?
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
psa - tarot readings are not set in stone
take what resonates leave what doesn’t
you’re fully in control of YOUR own life
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
* take a deep cleansing breathe
and pick a pile that calls to you *
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
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。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
pile 1 - the chariot and the queen of swords
-
pile one maybe you just become single or are currently going through some sort of separation. Maybe you’re worried and feeling unsure that you’ll be lonely for a while. With the chariot card spirit is telling you that if you push through this phase of your life you will see success and victory in your love life. im seeing that you’re good at overcoming adversity and that you won’t regret pushing yourself through this separation you’ll come out a lot stronger for it and your hard work will be rewarded! im also getting that this is your queen era !!! you’re not taking shit from anyone anymore you know what you want and you’re going to get it you don’t hide your feelings and you’ve learned so much from everything youve been through.
_____
Extra Messages
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* passion project
* develop hobbies
* creation
* some kind of artist
* learning about everything
_____
channeled song -
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
pile 2 - 8 of wands and 4 of cups
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I feel like this is someone you may know or have already met ? someone coming in really fast for you !! pile two this person has realized that their life is really nothing without you ! they feel like they lost their opportunity with you they feel so bad about how things were between the two of you. now pile 2 they have reevaluated themselves and are hoping they can rush into your life and be the person you need!
-
Extra Messages
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* union
* marriage
* approved
* consenting
-
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
pile 3 - the tower and 6 of cups
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much like the last pile i think you’re headed for a reconciliation. This maybe a person who things ended pretty dramatically. this person pile 3 is coming back to apologize and try to heal things they may have fucked up in the past. It’s completely up to you whether or not you take this person back! i am seeing you will reminisce over good times and happy moments with this person.
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extra messages
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* abundance
* creativity
* intense relationship
* satisfaction
* success
* positivity
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
pile 4 - 10 of cups and the hanged man
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pile 4 !! the way the cards flew out omg !! it made me feel like this connection coming up for you will be very easy in every sense of the word. pile 4 the person coming to you wants commitment and family. the person coming in you’ll have a harmonious life with them someone who intends to make you happy in every way. i’m seeing the two of you will have a very successful life all your cups will be filled up because of this person.
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extra messages
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* compassion
* helpful
* mature
* dominant spouse
-
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
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soapoet · 6 months
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how are you, october?
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+3 Taylor Swift songs each because she's striving and so should you.
like & rb if it resonates ♡
Soapy scribbles: I already did a general energy reading for this autumn season here, but there's quite a bit of energies at play this autumn, so I felt the need to look at October specifically as it feels very important.
01.
Shufflemancy: Taylor Swift ‐ Don't blame me, I did something bad, Red.
How long have you kept the light on? Sitting there, staring at the door, waiting for someone who never seems to come? The radio is on, playing two stations at once. The flower petals all say maybe, not he loves me, he loves me not. You are frustrated and confused, yearning for clarity but outside the sun just won't rise and the only light is the one lit outside your house. Have you given your time at a discount, or is the free trial still running? Someone needs to draw the line in the sand further from the waves that keep washing them away. You want more, and for love to not feel like agony. Red is the colour of passion, both love and hate. I see you wearing their white t-shirt, your heart bleeding and staining it red as you watch them sleep. Safe and sound, whilst you howl to the moon. You're growing territorial. A desperate act to ward off the wolves that prowl your prey. You saw them first, but they don't seem to see you.
It seems as though your thoughts and feelings are silly until somebody else echos them, word for word, and then they're liquid gold. You're not a ghost, but you feel your outlines blur. Where do you end and where do they begin? You haunt their halls, but they're fast asleep and never notice a bump in the night. You've felt powerless, like the quietest poltergeist, unable to move and shake the silverware, never able to rattle the cupboards or the picture frames. Somebody treats you like they would give you their last name, yet make no such commitments, not a single step in that direction. It is all up in the air, and you feel like the rug beneath your feet will get pulled at any moment. Is it not tiring to lie awake, watching the shadows, wondering what beasts may strike if you let your guard down in slumber? Without certainty, you're the one in fear under the covers, certain it wasn't just the wind. Because in your experience, it never really is.
Do not sign the dotted line without examination of the fine print. Better yet, do not sell your heart and soul to someone who will keep you on a shelf, saved for a rainy day, but will not puncture breathing holes into the lid and care for you truly. Do not let yourself be kept for a season, wings clipped and left to asphyxiate in a jar. You have given enough benefits of the doubt, but nobody is so daft, so oblivious, they would not embrace love they find worthy and good. Do not let yourself be kept as an option or as something good enough until something better, new and shiny, comes along. Close up shop and demand full subscription for your time and effort. If they won't pay the price, you'll find better in no time whilst karma chews them out. Especially if you feel like you can't do better, or have felt like love keeps avoiding you and you're somehow faulty and too broken to be loved, there really is someone around the next few corners who won't play you like a game or stick around only in fair weather but your storms too. So don't settle, you deserve better than okay and fine and good enough. For a select few, there really is love here, but may be drowning in addiction or fears of some kind. Remember that you can't help someone who doesn't want help, because change is made when they want change. This change may very well be coming up in the near future, and wrongs may be made right slowly. If this is somebody you love, whether romantically or platonically, even in a familial sense, make sure you keep your head above water and put your own oxygen mask on first before helping another. You can extend a helping hand, but do so when they ask, not because you're expected to do it because you always have. New beginnings in old relationships are possible if you want it.
Additional details: Amethysts, Ayurveda, moths, mixed signals, love languages, uquizzes and other such tests, purple, blue, red, bus rides, tattoos, job offers, writing, poetry, thesis, message in a bottle, missing an ex, addiction, healing, birds and squirrels, starting over, second chances, reminiscing, old photos or journal entries or ig posts, synastry charts, girl in red, Phoebe Bridgers, Noah Kahan, Bishop Briggs, YA book series, maladaptive daydreaming, BPD, lighters, short trips, parties or other get togethers, double dates, life path 8, birthdays, sanrio, studying, Scorpio/Aries/Virgo/Capricorn/Pisces, 3H/4H/5H/12H, Saturn/Mars/Uranus, Lilith/Chiron, 25/89/222/555.
02.
Shufflemancy: Taylor Swift - Gorgeous, Paper rings, I think he knows.
Luck seems to be on your side, or it soon will be. After a long drought, you have stumbled upon an oasis. Prayers whispered in the dark, sometimes choked out by tears, are now proven to have been heard after all. Endless night and harsh winter is over, even though seasonally speaking it's right ahead of us in the northern hemisphere. In your life, however, you're coming out of a very long and hard winter. You have felt cold and lost, sometimes frozen in place, as though your icicle bones and frosted skin wouldn't let your body decompose when you thought you were dead. You were stuck up to your thighs in snow. Every step was a challenge, and harsh winds threatened you like frail branches bending and snapping in storms. Now the snow is melting, trampled into slush beneath your boots and making way for spring flowers to bloom.
Forward movement is happening in many areas of your life. New beginnings are popping up like wildflowers in a meadow for you to frolic in. You're making changes and changes are making you. Immovable objects begin to roll down the hilltop where you've felt stranded like a lone celltower sending and receiving signals. You may have felt in your heart and soul that the winds are changing. Your intuition has been wide open and receptive for some time now, hasn't it? But rooted in place unable to move you have felt unable to take action. That is changing now as not only can you move forward, but things you have wished for begin to arrive like ships to your shores. You sowed and nurtured the seeds and it is time to harvest your crops. If you have dealt with mental terrors and grief, you should see those slowly begin to heal, circumstances improve, and help becoming available to you and you finally feel ready and able to take it.
If you've been engaging in some good old fashioned yearning, know that it's a case of mutual pining. Someone whose freckles, birth marks, or scars you have mapped out like an astronomer the night sky in stolen glances has stolen just as many of you. Either one of you, perhaps both, have been closing doors as of late, gone through endings and made space for the new and found the keys to the doors once shut and chained and locked. There is a distinct sense of leveling up here, like entering a new region in a game at last when the requirements have been met, and you're now free to explore new and unknown territory. I see unwavering eye contact where before it was a game of cat and mouse. I see a church, two people side by side in the pews sharing quiet confessions. Words previously only thought find a voice and get spoken, not to the moon but the heart they were meant for. There can be some secrecy involved, but less like the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet it's keeping something sacred between two souls, keeping each other like an oath. Sheltering a flame, for some of you one rekindled, between four hands and promising to meet in the woods at night. This secrecy is not one grown from shame, but one of dedication. A solid foundation, a home and sturdy fortress is being built or rebuilt in the dark of the night so its eventual beauty and intricacies may be admired by all in the sun. You may have manifested this, or simply known this was inevitable. All you really had to do was accept it as fate and wait for it to unfold. This is a cozy kind of love, but also devout like two souls looking upon each other in reverence. It feels as close as it feels free. There's something to lean on but also room to grow. You hold each other tightly, but loosen the grip as needed, and always ready to catch the other if they fall. For some of you this marks the end of a third party situation, an entirely new love, and for others this is reworking an existing or past love with a new set of rules and making magic together after tough challenges.
Additional details: Full moon, abundance, sudden income, lottery luck, gifts, receiving or giving flowers, dancing, swimming, guided meditations, listening to higher frequencies, therapy or counselling, lists and plans, entrepreneurship, editing, finishing tasks, cats, rabbits and ferrets or rodents, pancakes and waffles, sunflowers and dandelions, espresso, heavy rain, holding hands, nostalgic scents or environments, coughing, PTSD, neurodivergence, artificial intelligence, fidget toys or stress balls, colouring books, arts and crafts, dainty jewellery, body language, law of assumption, dreams, blue, green, black, glasses, kpop, punk, indie, Stray Kids, Ateez, Dreamcatcher, Daft Punk, Sabaton, Avenged Sevenfold, Korn, Virgo/Leo/Cancer/Aquarius/Sagittarius, 1H/3H/5H/11H, Jupiter/Moon/Mercury/Pluto, North and South Node/Ceres, 12/13/33/555/888.
03.
Shufflemancy: Taylor Swift - The archer, Mean, Anti-hero.
Narcissus and Echo, a tragedy of old. You may have been at the mercy of fluctuating between the two. This can be a dance between you and another, or you and your own reflection. You may have pushed someone away. A friend, a family member, yourself, or an authority figure of sorts. Demanding they leave you alone, left them on read or never bothered to open their letters at all, after so long of clinging to their every word. Certain of your independence, a need to put yourself first, desperate self love wholly unrequited. Or perhaps you fought viciously for yourself, but your voice was never heard. As though you always needed someone else to speak your words for them to be taken as right and true. Perhaps you were sent on a glitched quest, "ask your mother" only met with "ask your father", leaving you in the uncertainty of the in between, alone and filled to the brim with unanswered questions and no sense of direction.
You have sought help, asked for assistance, asked all the right questions and really pushed your own cart forwards though it has been uphill. And something or someone always cast stones on your path forward, shoved stick between the wheels to make the process feel so hopeless. There are wounds that you bear that have been left unhealed for years. Still raw and bleeding you dry whilst you try to keep yourself together like cupping water in your hands as it spills through your fingers. But though your path is full of traps and spikes and is uncertain and winding, you know the way forward all within yourself. Because you carry with you the only light you need to find your way. You may cross paths with kind advisors who unseathe their swords to fight for you, and some of them may already be in your life. Those who see the injustice and tear down the thicket ahead to make way for you and protect you whilst you stitch your wounds and ready yourself for battle yourself. Accept the help, encouragement, and follow these kind mercenaries when you get lost. Allow them to carry your burdens when as Atlas you need a break from carrying the world upon your shoulders. Soon you'll be strong enough to do what you need to do. Be better, stronger, healthier, if not for you right now then for those who need you and cherish you and want you by their side in the quests of life. Eventually your actions will prove to be the best for you, and a faint portrait of a future you smiles upon your present self for your decision to keep moving forward.
If you need to put your foot down, do so in earnest. Shoo away guilt and shame, and let go of the idea that you must suffer in silence and weather unnecessary storms, speak when spoken to and follow another's commands so often not in favour of your own well-being. Fight your inner demons, but know you need not fight them alone. Dip a quill in ink and rewrite the rules. Break into the library which holds the book of life and black out that what does not serve you, and take ownership of your own story. If Narcissus treats you poorly, trample him under your foot on your way out the door. He is only a flower now and seasons change, and he will wilt and wither away as you no longer shine upon his petals.
Additional details: Violins, literature, art galleries, sisters and fathers, divorce, babies or children, psychotherapy, CBT, law, changing your name, lgbt+, jazz, classical music, Regina Spektor, Kate Bush, Tori Amos, Fiona Apple, borzoi, dog videos, playing instruments, writing a book, storytelling, unknown address, exotic animals, spiders, ED, OCD, teddy bears, squishmallows, studying for a test, doctor's appointments, funerals, chill covers/lofi, slowed/reverb/acoustic versions, subliminals, affirmations, lace, fuzzy socks or woolen socks, bruises, house plants, monstera, ivy, pothos, tea collection, cold hands, Taurus/Gemini/Libra/Scorpio/Capricorn, 2H/6H/8H/10H, Saturn/Pluto/Neptune/Venus, IC/MC, 17/23/95/11:11/000/444.
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duckchu · 4 months
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Hello, honey! I've been following you for a long time and I adore your works! And I want to make a request! HEARTSTEEL members x Fem!Indie game developer!Reader. Reader has been creating indie games for a long time (such as Undertale and Deltarune), and also writes soundtracks for them (like Toby Fox. I love this genius!). I would also like to create an indie game based on the League of Legends universe (I would choose Targon from the regions, and I would choose Aphelios from the characters that the player would control). But I don't have any programming skills! So I'll have to write interactive fanfic... Thank you very much! You're just a sunshine!💋💋💋💋
Sorry for the long wait (I recognise how long actually named asks sit in my inbox for rather than anon ones, idk why) and thank you for the kind words
I also kinda didn't know how to go about this so every guy has 3 "parts":
You working late
Putting one of their items as cosmetic (kinda changed in Kayn's and K'Sante's part)
And music
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Kayn
Thinks you're cool
Enjoys sitting with you late at night while you code
May or may not convince you to sneak a Rhaast easter egg in
Though will often try to distract you if you're not paying enough attention to him
Enjoys bothering you when you compose
He's silly like that
So please, for the sake of your sanity, lock your room
Yone
Doesn't mind your work, but will make you stop if you're pulling all nighters
Might even pick you up and carry you to bed, telling you you need some sleep
One day, while he was watching you play test, noticied one of the items in your game looked suspiciously like his mask
Finds it really cute
Will help you with the music, if you'd like
Loves working with you
Aphelios
You stay up all night working?
Cool, he is too
Unless he notices you're tired
Then he pulls you into his lap and works with one hand while petting your hair with the other
It makes you fall asleep in seconds
Let him play test pleaseee
When you do, he 100% the game in a week
Not because it's easy, but because he's a sweaty try hard
Found you put his mask in the game as a cosmetic
Melted on the spot
Sometimes will give you songs as gifts
So you can put them in the game
Loves hearing them if you decide to use them
Ezreal
He's such a bitch if you overwork yourself
Will try to direct your attention to him at all cost
-Y/N, I'm boreeed -
Please keep on torturing this little shit with lack of attention
He deserves it
But also
If you put his sunglasses as an item, he will love you ten times more
As for the music?
Doesn't really know a lot about composing but loves listening to your pieces
Sett
You're overworking yourself?
No, you're not.
You're sitting on his lap and watching a movie with him
Doesn't care about your protests, you have to take care of yourself
When he first saw your character having his beanie on when you were playing the game, he had to do a double check
Gave you a big hug
He thinks it's really cute
As for the music, he thinks it's really good
You scrap something?
He's gonna use it as background for his totally awesome solo
Don't tell anyone else tho
He'll get embarrassed
K'Sante
He can't force you to rest, but he will insist on it
If you have some important work to do, he won't try to stop you, but will bring you meals and drinks if you want
Will usually chill in your room and design while you work
Speaking of designs... he was surprised when you asked him if you could take a look at his tablet
But he trusts you, so why not
Was shocked when one day he saw you putting one of his designs as a clothing option
Loves it and thinks that it looks good even when pixelated
Although he's not the greatest composer, he will try to help you
It usually turns into fan favourite soundtracks
So you don't mind his suggestions
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