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#streaming has been WILD lately
nerdynanny · 3 months
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norrizzandpia · 6 months
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can you write just lando being a cute bf and like he comes on in the middle of a stream just to ask if youve eaten and took medication and drank enough
YESSSS I FUCKING LOVE BOYFRIEND LANDO
Boyfriend Lando (LN4)
Summary: Where the chat goes wild for Boyfriend Lando.
Warnings: Lando being everyone’s fav bf, language, sexual references lol
Lando’s scream rocked the room as he erupted in laughter after having been killed in Halo. He slunk back in his chair, arms falling over the sides, and groaned loudly at the defeat.
Max, on the other hand, was yelling at the top of his lungs victoriously.
“I FUCKING BEAT YOU, BITCH! HAHA! I DID IT!” The chat, surely, was crying of laughter from the other side of their screens with the overflowing messages in all caps.
Lando stared at the ceilings, huffing and puffing, before he heard the small creak of his door. Tilting his head back further, a smile broke out on his face at the upside down view of his girlfriend.
“Y/n!” He exclaimed as she walked closer to him, leaning down and kissing his forehead lightly.
He blushed, something the chat and Max made fun of him for, before sitting up and turning around fully. He grabbed her waist, pulling her down onto his lap, and kissed her lips sweetly.
“How are you?” He said, ignoring the way Max laughed at him.
She nodded, “I’m good.”
“Eaten today?” He inquired again, eyebrows wiggling at her playfully.
She nodded, “Drank today?”
Again, she nodded.
“Took your medication?”
She almost nodded, but slyly smiled at him, “No, Lan, it’s not time yet.”
He shook his head immediately, “Yes, it is.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“N-”
“Baby-” He interrupted, “It’s 12:04 pm. You take your medication at 12:00 pm.”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes, smile peaking through, “Oh my god, okay, mom.”
She got up from his lap, but not before he called up, “It’s daddy, remember?!”
“Ew, what the actual fuck?” Max countered, voice displaying his disgust.
Lando squinted to read the rapid comments, “None of your business, bitch.”
“You made it everyone’s business when you screamed it?!” Max exclaimed, aggravated.
“Do you want it to be your business?” Lando challenged, licking his lips when he caught Max.
“Fuck no.”
“There you go.”
Lando resorted his attention back to the chats, reading some out.
“Wow! What an interesting thing to say? ‘Lando knowing Y/n was late to take her medication is something I will fall asleep to tonight’”
Max joined him, “‘Y/n not being fazed by Lando’s questions has my heart’ Aww, how cute. Lando cares about his girlfriend.” He deadpanned.
Lando laughed, reading another, “Oh, this one’s in all caps. Should I scream it? Guess I should. ‘I HATE MY LIFE I WANT LANDO AND I WANT Y/N I WANT THEM BOTH.’”
There was a comical silence that ensued, bringing loud laughter to the two best friends before Y/n was walking back in the room with a proud smile.
“Medicated!” She exclaimed, Max choking on his water with the chuckle that emitted from him.
Lando whooped and hollered, spinning around in his chair before stopping as she came to sit back down on his lap. When she was settled, he let one hand rest on the side of her waist, the other squeezing lightly the skin of her thigh. Her hands curled in his hair as the two looked at the chat’s comments.
ln4andop81
God, it’s me again.
mclarensgirly
SO WHY TF DO I GET LOOKED AT WEIRDLY WHEN I SAY IM ON MEDICATION BUT LANDO CELEBRATES WHEN Y/N TAKES THE PILL??????
f1fan2023
Can we plz go back to that daddy comment? Like Lando is daddy, but he shouldn’t know that?
mclarennnnnnfan
WHAT KIND OF VOODOO SHIT DID THEY PULL TO GET THAT KIND OF LOVE??? SPILL IT RIGHT THE FUCK NOW I NEED TO KNOW HOW TO GET A MAN TO LOOK AT ME THE WAY LANDO LOOKS AT Y/N
Lando chuckled at all the words, arms pulling Y/n closer to him. To add fuel to the fire, he kissed her shoulder and whispered, only for her to hear, how much he loved her. From her blushing and the toothy grin on her face, the chat went wild for the ambiguous moment.
Truthfully, they didn’t need to be told anything to know it was Lando expressing how he felt for her.
He was always doing that.
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woso-dreamzzz · 25 days
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Surgery V
Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader
Summary: You lose your lion
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"Come on, Cub!" Mapi calls from the door," We're leaving!"
There's the familiar pitter-patter of your feet as you come running out of your room. You don't come straight to the door though, you run past to check the sofa cushions, pulling them up and throwing them back down.
"Cub!" Mapi calls again," We're going to be late."
"My løve (lion)!" You cry, turning around so Mapi can see just how distressed you are," It's gone! Mami, løve's gone!"
"What do you mean your lion's gone? Where's he gone?"
"I don't know!" You tug at your hair.
Most of the time, Ingrid's the one that does your hair, tying it back in a braid out of your face so it doesn't get in the way of your playing. It's loose right now though because Ingrid had gotten up late and Mapi was the one to get you ready.
You pull at the loose strands and Mapi has to gently pry your hands away.
"Hey," She says," What have I said? We must be nice to our bodies. Don't pull on your hair, please."
"Løve!"
"Cub, I'm sorry but we have to get going."
"Mami," You whine," Løve! I want løve!"
"Cub-"
The door opens.
Ingrid was waiting in the car, completely exhausted from her late night out with Frido and Aitana. She's got a to-go coffee in her hands and she rubs her eyes.
"Mapi? What's taking so long?"
"Mama!" You cry, running over and crashing into her legs," My løve is gone!"
Ingrid picks you up easily, balancing you on her hip as she surveys the destruction of the apartment.
Your bedroom door is still open and Ingrid can see where you've torn it all up looking for your lion toy. The pillows and cushions on the sofa have also been flung around the living room with no regard as you desperately looked for your toy.
"I'm sorry, cub," Ingrid says," We really need to go. We can look for him later."
You go completely limp and boneless in Ingrid's arms, trying to get her to release you so you can go back to searching but she's got a tight grip and soon you're strapped into your car seat and Mami is driving you all to training.
That's when you regain your movement again, brutally kicking the back of Ingrid's seat as you scream and cry for your løve.
He's your extra special baby toy that you got when you were baby. He's your most favourite toy in the world because he's a little lion like you are. Even your wild hair matches his mane.
Mami doesn't let you take Bagheera to training so your løve is a nice substitute but you couldn't find him when you woke up this morning. You can't even remember if you went to sleep with him last night.
"Cub," Ingrid says sternly," If you kick my seat one more time then you're going on timeout when we get to training."
You want to kick the seat again to prove a point but Ingrid is the boss in and out of the house and you don't want her to be angry at you.
"Want my løve!" You cry instead.
Your hair is still loose so you keep tugging at it even though it makes the top of your head hurt a little bit. You want your lion and you don't know what else to do now that you can't kick Ingrid's seat.
"Hey," Mami says as she glances at you through the rearview mirror," Cub, stop that. You're not being very kind to your body right now. It looks like that's hurting."
"Don't care!" You shriek.
"Well, I care. You not being nice to your body is making me sad. It makes me very upset. Can you please be nice to yourself?"
"Want løve!"
"I know," Mami says," It's just a little longer to training. Do you think you can be nice to yourself until then?"
You stop pulling your hair as tears stream down your face.
You stop kicking Ingrid's seat and you stop being mean to your body but you don't stop crying. You can't stop crying, not without your løve and Mami and Ingrid holding you.
They can't hold you in the car even if they want to so you're left to cry and scream in the backseat as Mapi finally parks the car.
Both of them are out quickly and Ingrid's the one to finally lift you into her arms, Mapi gently rubbing your back as you sob.
"I lost my løve!" You cry.
"You didn't lose him," Mapi says," Don't worry. We'll find him. He'll be at home somewhere."
"Came back from seeing Tia Leila day before yesterday," You whimper," Coulda left løve on the plane!" The thought makes you sob harder. "Didn't mean to!"
"We'll find your løve," Ingrid assures you," You haven't lost him."
Mapi is frantic as she runs ahead, just to warn everyone of what mood you're in so no one teases you or pushes you too far.
She skids into the locker room, mouth already open to word vomit everything that happened that morning but the words get stuck in her throat.
She points to Aitana. More specifically, what Aitana has in her hand.
"Cub's lion!"
"Yeah," Aitana says," She left it behind yesterday. I was meant to give it to Ingrid when we met up last night but I forgot. Here."
"Aitana, you're a lifesaver. She's been in tears all morning looking for him."
The door swings open and, true to Mapi's word, your face is tear streaked as Ingrid walks you in.
"Cub, look! Aitana found your lion!"
"My løve!" You say, reaching for it and burying your face in his fur as soon as you've got him in your grip.
"Hey," Ingrid jostle you," Say thank you to Tana."
"Thank you for finding my løve, Aitana."
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moeyynorris · 5 months
Text
Streaming and Daydreaming
Lando Norris x F!Streamer!Reader
Warnings: Just super cute fluff, some fans teasing the two of you, maybe a hint of angst, and mention of being shot at in a video game.
A/N: I’m flirting with the idea of a part 2. Let me know what you think!
Moeyy’s Master List
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“Hello everyone, and thank you for joining the stream. Sorry it’s been a little while since I’ve been on, but my day job has been a bit busy lately.” Lando winked at the camera as he addressed his fans. “But, I do have a treat for you lot. One of my dear friends, the ever so beautiful Y/N, will be joining us. You can follow her stream at @ynusername and you will be able to hear her and see her camera on my own.” He grinned, waiting for you to chime in.
“Hello everyone,” you greeted, the smile obvious in your voice. You could feel your cheeks heating up as you stared at Lando through your second screen. You knew you didn’t have stage-fright, so you were hoping the fans tuning in wouldn’t notice.
“Ready to get your ass handed to you at some Fortnite, girlie?” Lando chuckled as he teased you. You sucked in a breath at his smile.
“Excuse me, Norris, but I’ve been playing this game for almost two years longer than you have!” You giggled, then stuck out your tongue at the camera. “You started, what, three weeks ago? Let’s see who has their ass handed to them.”
Lando shook his head, laughing as the chat on his stream went wild. You could see multiple people typing “Lando ❤️😍🥰” and “That smile 😍😍😍”, and all you could do was laugh.
Same, fans. Same.
“Ok, Y/N, get ready and let’s go!”
As the two of you waiting for your game lobby to fill, you greeted some of the fans in the chat. Lando did the same, the two of you taking turns.
“@papayaprincezz1 asks, ‘It’s been all smiles since the two of you signed on. Is there anything going on between the two of you?” Lando froze after he read the last word aloud. He stared directly at the camera for a moment, then huffed a nervous laugh. “Y/N and I have been friends for a while, but there is nothing more between us right now.”
You he glanced to his left, at his second monitor, where he was streaming your stream. You stared up at the camera, offering a smile. The chat started filling up with “right now?” and “what does he mean by that?”
Before you would say anything, your screen flashed to your character preparing to drop into the map.
“Where we droppin’ Lando?” You asking, scanning the map.
“Uhh, let’s do the Peninsula thing next to that castle thing.”
You laughed. “You mean near the Citadel?”
Lando scrunched his nose. “Yeah, that thing.”
“You sure you don’t want to do Slappy Shores?” You offered, preparing to leave the Battle Bus.
“Nah, babe, that place is too hard. People are gnarly there!” Lando followed your lead as he left the Battle Bus.
You blushed at his use of that word, and the chat definitely heard it too. There was another instant barrage of comments about Lando’s choice of nickname, but you tried to ignore it.
mclarengirl04: they would be so cute together! 😍
f1gamergirl0416: he called her babe. There’s gotta be something there between them!
drsdiana55: Lando + Y/N = shipped. 🥰
You glanced away from the chat the moment you heard something whizz by your head. Someone was hiding and sniping at you. You spun your character around, trying to find who was shooting at you.
“Lando, I’ve got a sniper,” you announced as you scanned the land around you. You saw something move in a tree, so you took a shot, and numbers popped up instantly. “I shot him,” you muttered, continuing to aim.
You kept shooting, hitting the player just about every other shot.
“Knocked him.” You furrowed your brow as someone from behind you started shooting at you. “Lando, where the hell are you?”
You glanced up at Lando’s stream and froze. He was just sitting there, staring to his left, at your stream. His eyes appeared to be almost glazed over, like he was daydreaming.
“Earth to Lando Norris!” Your voiced raised a bit, snapping him out of his haze.
“Sorry, I, uh, where are you?”
You rolled your eyes. “Where I’ve been the last four minutes, love.” Your cheeks flushed as the word left your lips, but you shoved your feelings down and focused on the game.
“Right,” Lando muttered, his cheeks redder than you had ever seen them. He nibbled his lower lip as he focused on the screen in front of him.
You sighed in relief when Lando finally came to your aid. You both fought in silence for a few minutes. Then, your stomach flipped as you noticed the chat blowing up again.
formula1fangirl98: I want a man who looks at me the way Lando looks at Y/N.
battlebusdriver249: He’s in love for sure. Ain’t no one look at someone like that unless they in love.
myra_norris: Lando just daydreaming about his dream girl.
Your eyes widened and your stomach tensed as you read the hundreds of comments about you and Lando. There was no way he was staring at you, not consciously. He was probably just daydreaming about something else and happened to be looking at your stream when he zoned out… Right?
One last shot, and you were taken out. You sighed, relaxing your shoulders. Lando leaned back in his chair, his hands cradling the back of his head.
“Well, that was interesting.” Lando yawned, then smiled. “I guess 4th isn’t too shabby.” He peered down at his screen. “Is everyone in the chat still awake? Maybe I should read a couple of these—“
Lando’s eyes widened as he glanced down at the chat, his eyes scrolling over the various messages.
“Oh,” he gasped, glancing back up at the camera. “Uh, I don’t—uh.”
“Are you okay? Did your brain break?” You chuckled. You tried to maintain your cool while watching Lando stumble.
“Well, I think the chat is trying to call me out.” Lando’s cheeks flushed.
“Oh what?” You tried to play naïve, but you knew what they were saying. You weren’t blind.
“Well, let’s see. ‘Lando got those heart eyes’. Oh, and there’s ’His heart exploded and short-circuited his brain’.” He kept reading different comments in the chat, all of them hinting at one thing:
He was too busy staring at you to pay attention to the game.
“Oh,” was all you could muster up. You both stared at each other through the camera, both unable to say what you both knew needed to come next.
You sighed. “Well, are they right?” You winced as the words left your lips. This was not how you thought the day, or stream, was going to go.
“Haha, uh.” He sucked in a breath, then chuckled again. “Well, fans and friends, thank you for joining us today. I hope to be in here soon, and hopefully this lovely lady here will join me too.” He waved to the camera. “Goodnight, or day, everyone. Cheers.”
And with that, his screen went away, leaving just you and your stream. With a reluctant sigh, you said your farewells to your fans, and signed off too.
He just signed off like that? Not wanting to talk? Why would he read those comments off his chat if he wasn’t going to get to the point?
You leaned back in your chair just as your phone vibrated on your desk.
Text Message
Lando 😎🏎️🧡
Can you hop on Skype? I think we have a convo to finish.
You sent him a quick thumbs up emoji and pulled up Skype on your computer.
Within 30 seconds, you were getting a call from Lando, which you quickly accepted. His face popped into view, without his usual grin.
“Hey,” he muttered before letting out a sigh.
“Hey back.” You licked your lips nervously as you waited for his next words.
“Uh, so, sorry for earlier. I got a bit distracted.” Lando fiddled with his fingers.
“Yeah, I noticed. But what was so distracting?” His eyes shut for a moment at your words, then opened again. His gaze locked on the camera.
“You, obviously. As the chat said, I was mesmerized, transfixed,” he admitted. “I was distracted by watching you.”
You huffed a laugh. “By me playing a video game?”
He nodded. “Playing a video game, concentrating, analyzing, smiling, just being you.” Lando ran his hands over his hair. “Y/N, I was admiring how stunning you are. You’ve known me for what, a year now? And every single stream you’re on, I’m there right? Sure, you’re a pretty decent player, but I’m also there because watching you smile and laugh makes my stomach flutter like some stupid fucking romance movie. And for the races you’ve been at, I pushed harder than I thought I could because I wanted to make you proud. Not the team, not Zak, you.”
The only response you could give was a smile. A wide, gleeful grin as you listened to goofy, wacky Lando Norris spill his heart out to you.
“So, you’re saying—“
“I love you, Y/N. I have fallen head over fucking heels for a beautiful, funny, smart, quirky gamer girl named Y/N Y/L/N. And there’s no turning back now.” Lando’s lips finally curled. “And I hope—“
“I love you too, Lando. I knew you meant something special to me shortly after we met. I never thought a Formula 1 driver would have followed my gaming Twitch account, let alone become my friend.” Your cheeks heated while tears welled in your eyes. The man really meant a lot to you, and the fact that he felt the same way was magical.
“And maybe, uh, maybe more than a friend?”
You blinked the tears from your eyes and you chuckled. “What exactly are you asking, Mr. Lando Norris?” He cleared his throat then giggled, flashing that award winning smile.
“Y/N, will you, uh, would you like to be my girlfriend?” You both laughed.
“I would love to, Lando.” You both chuckled again. “And very smooth delivery,” you teased, but offering a wink.
“Ha, thanks. It did the job, didn’t it?” It sure did. You couldn’t argue with that.
When the giggles stopped, you both sat there, not sure what to do next. But, it didn’t matter. You were still swimming in the high of what just happened, that Lando Norris confessed to being in love with you.
Lando sat up a little, a grin across his lips. “Hey, I can ask for an all access pass to next weekend’s Grand Prix. If you would like to come and see it, that is.” That million dollar smile struck your heart as you considered his words.
“An all access pass to the Monaco Grand Prix? I could never say no to that.” You winked. “I heard there’s a really cute guy racing for McLaren.”
“Oh yeah? I’ll have to keep my eye out for him.” Lando smirked as you rolled your eyes.
The two of you continued to plan for the Grand Prix, like when you would leave and where you would stay. Lando beamed as he talked about this race, and you knew it was a special race for all of them. And sure, you had seen him race at Silverstone, Barcelona, and in Miami, but this one was going to be special.
“Hey Lando?” you asked as a random thought crossed your mind.
“Yeah, love?”
You let out a breath, then smiled. “When were you going to say something? You know, if thousands of people hadn’t called you out on it?”
Lando pursed his lips. “Well, I was planning on inviting you to the Grand Prix at the end of the stream. I was hoping to talk to you then. Maybe.” He nodded as he spoke.
You peered down randomly at your phone and gasped at the amount of notifications on the Lock Screen. X, Facebook, Instagram.
“Oh boy, we’re viral,” you muttered as you opened each notification. Most of them were just photos of Lando’s stream, his staring at your stream or blushing on camera. Fans had multiple hashtags, like #landoy/n forever and #flirtingonstream.
You rolled your eyes while Lando laughed hysterically at some of the posts.
“I guess the secret is out now the press are going to have a field day with us at the race.” You shrugged, realizing it may not be a calm little visit like before.
Lando chuckled and smirked. “Well, then let’s give them something to write about.” He winked, which made your stomach swirl.
This was going to be an interesting weekend.
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silversainz · 1 year
Text
rumors to rest ୨ৎ CL 16
IN WHICH the rumors of you two dating comes to an end, when charles does the most unexpected thing at the end of an race.
requested yes / no
notes: I finished this late and near the end I kinda gave up sorry, there also might be some errors, Tumblrs been acting up lately, and messing up my layouts for the fic
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yourusername
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liked by Pierregasly, charles_leclerc, landonorris and 299,000 others
yourusername happy Tuesday lovely’s 💐❤️
view all 2,000 comments
lilymhe you’re literally so gorgeous 😫
yourusername marry me 💍
alex_albon that’s my girlfriend?
yourusername marry me too? 💍
y/nlover drooling over you
charles_leclerc Tu es mignonne ❤️ you’re pretty
sainzz15 y’all make me sick
kissesfory/n oh just confirm it already
landonorris ew
yourusername is what I say whenever I see you
pierregasly 😍
yourusername telling Kika
charles_leclerc
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liked by carlossainz55, yourusername, and 799,000 others
charles_leclerc it’s Tuesday, ready to start the season 👀
view all 4,000 comments
ashleclerc16 the matching captions, interesting 🤨?
Sainzz55 so you’re delusional like us
y/nlover so now they’re traveling the world together…interesting 🤨
yourusername nice photos
charles_leclerc thank you a beautiful lady took them
leclercsainzz HOLD UP?!
sainzz16 my delusional self is shaking rn
norris444 yesterday she was packing on her stream and now her comment? I think they’re going to the abu Dhabi gp together?
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe, carmenmmundt and 499,000 others
yourusername a wild y/n at an airport, where will she be going?
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y/nfanclub a wild Charles was seen at an airport to, wonder where he’s going?
ashleclerc16 maybe to the hotel with Charles 🤷‍♀️
stargirly/n rumor has it you’re traveling with Charles
liked by yourusername
charles_leclerc who took the photos? 🤨
yourusername a handsome man took them?
sainzz556 sick y’all make me
stargirly/n I can’t stand y’all
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allf1news
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liked by, yourusername, Pierregasly and 40,000 others
allf1news charles and y/n l/n seen at the same airport that was arriving at Abu Dhabi today, could they have been traveling together for the Abu Dhabi gp, the last race of the season?
tagged yourusername, charles_leclerc
view all 500 comments
vettelmick I mean, honestly speaking, she has friends in Abu Dhabi so she could be visiting them…?
norris444 SHUT UP LET US BE DELUSIONAL
stargirly/n NOT THE RIGHT TIME
leclerc4416 in all honesty, if the rumors of them dating are true, charles could find somebody better than her
stargirly/n STFU
yourusername I look pretty good for an 17 hour flight 🤭
y/lnfan16 I’m connecting the dots here
ashleclerc16 I don’t think I’m being delusional anymore
yourusername
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likes by, Charles_leclerc, pierregasly, landonorris and 599,000 others
yourusername Abu Dhabi is beautiful ❤️🌻
view all 6,000 comments
kissesfory/n WHOS HAND IS THAT Y/N?!
lilymhe oh is that a mystery man?
Yourusername a mystery man for sure 🥰
ashleclerc16 I swear that’s a ring Charles wears all the time
sainzz554 y/n did you travel with Charles, yes or no 🎤
liked by yourusername
charles_leclerc lovely photos love 💕
stargirly/n charles motherfucking leclerc stop right NOW
Norris444 literally nobody’s going to be shocked when y’all come out and say y’all are dating
landogasly guys she has a boyfriend…. I found his instagram account it’s @,ryanohan 💀
> Yourusername @,landogasly I don’t have a boyfriend love, that’s a dear friend of mine ❤️
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yourusername posted to their story
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yourusername
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like by, charles_leclerc, Pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 899,000 others
yourusername Abu Dhabi has been lovely lovely 💞💞
tagged charles_leclerc
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ashleclerc16 SO YALL DID GO TO ABU DHABI TOGETHER
sainzz555 HOLY SHIT WE WERE RIGHT
lilymhe mystery man, no?
yourusername 🤔🤭
leclercsainzz this is the most boyfriend and girlfriend post I’ve ever seen
Rayleclerc deny y’all are dating again istg, I will shove this post in your face
liked by yourusername
charles_leclerc fancy seeing you there ❤️
liked by yourusername
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allf1news
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liked by Pierregasly and 99,000 others
allf1news y/n shows up to the paddock, along side charles, for the Abu Dubai gp, the last race of the season. 👀
view all 700 comments
ashleclerc16 they’re matching omfg
sainzz she looks beautiful in red
user1655 they have matching outfits, matching rings, matching necklaces and matching shoes….but no they aren’t dating, I’m going insane
Carlosnorris not even my relationship but yet I’m going crazy over the fact that two people could be dating and still denying it..I need help
yourusername
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liked by scudeiaferrari, landonorris danielriccardo and 1,000,000 others
yourusername it’s race day 🏎️🏎️❤️
tagged charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, scudeiaferrari
view all 10,000 comments
scudeiaferrari loving this ❤️
liked by yourusername
ashleclerc16 Carlos is us with you and Charles
pearlgasly realistically speaking what if they aren’t actually dating?
sainzz respectfully shut up
Charlesnumberone honestly thinking the same thing
f1 oh which team are you going for? 👀
yourusername idk some red popular team or Williams
Charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, scudeiaferrari, f1 and 1,200,000 others
Charles_leclerc last race of the season, planned something special 🏎️
view all 10,000 comments
ashleclerc16 should I be scared or scared
sainzz caption is making me feel mixed emotions
yourusername something special 🤔
liked by charles_leclerc
user1655 do the something special before the car breaks
norris444 WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT??
sainzz on the last race to…
rayleclerc this was unnecessary !!!
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, scudeiaferrari, carlossainz55 and 1,333,000 others
yourusername something special, no?
beyond proud of you and I know your time will come, and I’ll be there standing right beside you cheering you on as loudly as I can. I’m ready to start the new year with you right by my side Mon amour pour toujours 💞💞
tagged charles_leclerc
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Ashleclerc16 HIS SOMETHING SPECIAL TEARS FALLING
sainzz bro I fucking threw my phone across the room when he ran over and kissed you
charles_leclerc my something special forever ❤️
yourusername I’m crying again
stargirly/n THANK GOD ITS CONFIRMED I CAN STOP LOSING MY MIND
lilymhe mystery man revealed?
yourusername mystery man revealed indeed 🥰
Norris444 y’all dragged this on for too long WAYY too long
daniel444 now if y’all break up within a month imma go insane
lewis445 I’m so single, I’m sobbing
riccardobull the best friends to lovers trope I’m hating idc
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charles_leclerc something special forever, on to 2023 with you ❤️
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celenawrites · 6 months
Text
late night drive (m.)
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Summary -
After a stressful work day, you spend the night with two handsome men.
Pairing -
Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish x F! Reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley
Warnings -
Explicit smut (18+ only), slight praise, usage of nicknames (good girl, sweet girl, lass, etc), Oral sex (F, M receiving), Reader has self-esteem issues and it shows heavily, slight angst.
w.c. - 6.5k
masterlist || ao3 vers.
MINORS DNI, or I'll bite your ankles. This stuff is for adults only. 18+ folks only.
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You have met them both at a seedy bar set a little off to the left from the heart of the city. 
Johnny and Simon. You remember them sitting at the bar, glasses half-filled with Kentucky bourbon, faint murmurs of their conversation flowing like a gentle stream between them and their hands tenderly drawing mindless shapes on their scarred skins. (as if they were writing their soft declarations of love with their fingers on each other, invisible to the eye and yet etched into their souls.)
You are uncertain how you caught their eye. You are not sure if there is something in you that they had caught in a passing glance, and decided to open their hearts (and their beds) to you for this one night as a result. 
You had been there after bombing another promising job interview, pissed at your failed potential (you were an A plus student - honors call and all, until you weren’t anymore) and the dead-end job of yours that had you feeling miserable for the past three or so years. It didn’t help that any time you fiddled with your phone, you’d be bombarded with pictures of your schoolmates and college friends marrying, or going on vacations and having a family of their own - growing older with someone, anyone; their lives full and moving and vibrant with colors that usually hurt your eyes. 
Meanwhile, you are just living. 
A day at a time. A week at a time. 
Day to day to day has always been the same. You wake up, work, cook and clean for one and you indulge in past hobbies in order to capture the joy that has somehow slipped past your fingers the older you grew. You have no furry companions you can use as an excuse to go out on a walk, no lovers to send raunchy texts to, and no friends who would abandon their children and husbands to give you company while you wallow in your eternal misery as you drink your pain away with a beer bottle with condensation settling down on its neck, leaving your palms wet and slippery. 
You don’t even try to think about your family. 
So there you are, an untouched glass of pink gin kept in front of you and your hands nervously raking through your oiled hair and your rumpled work outfit (a sky blue blouse paired with black pencil skirt) ostracized you further from the patrons of the bar. And then you’re approached by Johnny who eyes your colorful drink with mild interest. 
Johnny with his wild mohawk and kind brown eyes and kissable lips - who wondered out loud what a pretty little lady like you was doing in a place like this (you almost snorted derisively at the casual compliment, but the fatigue had you more amenable to flattery) and then he asked you about your disheveled state, and you tell him that everyone with a job feels like this on a usually busy weekday. He nods like he understands you, and then he invites you to join him and his boyfriend for some drinks. 
Who are you to refuse free drinks and such handsome company?
The conversation is freeing in a way that it allows your mind to forget that the world exists outside of this temporary, delicate bubble that consists of you, Johnny and Simon. Johnny fills the space with his warm voice, enveloping you in comfort and safety as he talks about anything and everything - he tells you that both of them are in the Army (But none of them would budge to answer any questions of yours. “If I answered that, I’d have to kill you”, he joked, but his hardened gaze told you that there is some truth to it.You decided to not let your curiosity guide you anymore.), the football game on the television hung up on the wall, the movie that came out last week, the bourbon they have been nursing for the past half hour or so (“Simon only likes it when it’s Kentucky”, he says and you understand the need for some delicacies of this life staying the same, no matter what.), and then he asks you if you’d like to eat something. 
You and Johnny share a plate of cheese fries. 
The fries are oversalted(the perfect drunk food, but unfortunately you haven’t even worked up a buzz with your neglected drink), and the cheese is too gooey for you to not eat without getting your hands messy. You cringe at the stickiness, and Johnny laughs at your predicament and you wonder if it is possible for radiant, burning stars to be born as mortals. 
His boyfriend, Simon, does not join you in eating the food. 
His face is covered by a black surgical mask, and he is mostly quiet - letting his more jubilant counterpart lead the conversation. But conversation lulls between satiating your hunger and Johnny encouraging you to drink from his glass. (“Try it, bonnie. Real booze hits different”, he offers hospitably, and then he chuckles as you sputter and choke at the liquid burning your throat. At least he’s kind enough to pat your back, and then he orders a tall glass of water for your poor throat.)
Simon shakes as he dryly chuckles at the antics of his partner, and you feel heat travel down your stomach at how rough and rich his voice sounds. You find it oddly comforting against the commotion of the busy bar tonight. 
After you made a fool out of yourself, the masked man (with his dirty blonde hair and white scars that ran all over his face, only for half of it to be hidden by his black surgical face mask) is much more receptive to having a conversation with you. He seldom talks, but he doesn’t shy away from cracking a dark joke or two that almost make you choke on your own spit. His eyes are dark and intense, and sometimes when your own gaze meets his own, you find it almost impossible to look away from him - afraid that the moment you do, you’d find yourself alone and miserable at the bar again. 
There seems to be a pleasant silence settling between you three, and with a warm face and heavy limbs, you lean into the warm hand that cradles the small of your back and let it gently spell something illegible yet almost affectionate into your skin, the fabric of the blouse acting as a poor guard between your sensitive body and the touch you were not aware you craved until now. 
You look on with heavy eyes as the couple has a secret conversation between them with their eyes alone. Warm, lovely eyes that were scattered across the different spectrum of shades of brown. Eyes that pierced you and stripped you naked until you were nothing more than your deepest yearnings and fears. Eyes that carried a never-ending love for each other, and each other alone. 
They talk in furtive glances, and all you can do is give up on deciphering their language and let yourself enjoy the circles being drawn onto your back by Johnny’s teasing fingers. (You possibly cannot expect to unfurl all of that history and love between them just because you get to be a part of it for a few hours, can you now?)
After they have made a decision and with a nod of mutual acceptance, Johnny turns back to you and you straighten up due to the sudden attention. He looks at you with something akin to desire, and you can only feel your mouth turn dry as he asks you:
“Wanna get out of here?”
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They hail a taxi for the three of you. 
Johnny is curious and impatient with his hands as he fondles you and leaves fluttering kisses up your neck. You should be mortified; getting frisky with a man you have known for only a few hours, in a taxi no less. But the attention makes it easier to swallow the humiliation that tries to consume your thoughts. Your back is pressed up against Simon’s side, who is all the more satisfied with watching his boyfriend paw at you like a cat fascinated with his new toy. You tilt your head back, and curse out when Johnny’s lips touch a spot that makes your knees buckle. And then you feel a hand engulf your throat, squeezing you gently and you think you might as well just forget to breathe all together. 
“Such a pretty girl”, Simon whispers against the shell of your ear, and you are glad that the only source of light on your way to their place are the shitty streetlights, because you cannot school your expression into one of indifference. (You like the praise a little too much.You like it out of Simon’s mouth even more.)
After what seems like an eternity of being teased and taunted by sweet words and lazy actions, the taxi finally comes to a stop and you send out a prayer to any deity out there who might be awake at this odd hour and willing to lend you an ear, because you’re sure that this night will leave you ruined. 
You get out of the vehicle on wobbly knees and Johnny is all the more willing to support you while he guides you to the apartment complex where he and Simon currently reside. Simon throws the crumpled bills on the lap of the driver, along with a generous tip for putting up with his frisky lover and the sweet girl they have taken home and for not kicking them out in the middle of nowhere late at night. Simon joins you both in the elevator, and Johnny is all the more eager to pin you against him and finally kisses you on the lips. 
You moan into the kiss, your hands finally tugging on his mohawk and bringing you closer and closer to his body. (Not close enough, your body screams. Never close enough, it screams again.) His hands are all the more eager to explore every soft curve of you; restless fingers groping your breasts and making you arch into him even more. 
“Fuck, bonnie.Yer so soft”, he remarks after breaking the kiss, and you can only pant at how breathless one kiss from this man had left you. You can only wonder what more he’s capable of making you feel. 
You are turned around to face Simon, who looks at your crumpled blouse and your messy hair and the neediness that drips from your eyes and your swollen lips. He holds your chin and tilts it to look at him, before commanding you, “Open up, sweetheart”. 
You comply without any complaints, wanting nothing more than to obey the masked man. 
You open your mouth, letting your pink tongue tease your parched lips as you wet them and he pries your mouth open wider with a firm hand on your jaw. His dark eyes look down on you, and you feel as if you’re going to be sacrificed and all you can hope is that he likes the offering you have in store for him. (You you you, you offer him all of you.)
“Suck on it”, he orders and you swallow the thumb he offers you - letting you soothe your oral fixation while you impatiently resist the urge to tap your foot against the floor as you wait for the elevator to finish its ascent. 
You twirl your tongue around it, wetting the finger in your mouth before you let it out with a resounding ‘pop’, a thin string of saliva connecting your soft lips and the thumb. Your eyes look up at him in reverence, pleading with him to reward you for your good behavior. 
“Fuckin’ hell”, he rasps out, and he almost leans forward, almost closes the distance between you both when the elevator lets out a ring and stops on the designated floor. 
Through drunk giggles and impaired body coordination, you follow the men as they lead you to their apartment. The moment the door closes behind them (locked carefully by Simon, while Johnny guides you inside), they’re back onto you - clinging to your body like you’re the anchor that grounds them in the storm of life. 
And it feels nice to be needed like that, if only for a moment. 
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You’re on your knees on the floor as you wait for Simon to do something.
You are naked - your clothes peeled off from your body after Simon unzipped it for you and Johnny had been all the more eager to palm your breasts in his hands - warm and calloused and greedy for more. 
Your blouse is discarded somewhere on the floor long forgotten.
(“Lovely tits”, Johnny had groaned as he had undressed you, and you thanked yourself for wearing a somewhat decent bra today. )
You sit waiting - a paragon of virtue and patience as you look up at the men who would be ultimately ruining you tonight. They talk in eyes again, and you feel a pang of irritation at your inability to decipher all that is said between them with just a single look. 
Your arms are folded across your chest - a decision you had swiftly taken after feeling a wave of self-consciousness hit you in full force. You can feel your ankles getting numb at the posture - the pins and prickles forcing you to momentarily shift your weight from the ball of your feet to your knees, taking the lack of notice from either men as an incentive to ensure you don’t end up with numb legs while you wait for them to finish whatever secretive talk they are having without words. 
Simon turns towards you and notices you struggling on your knees, and then he reaches for one of the pillows scattered near the headboard of their Californian-sized bed. He asks you gently, “Get up from the floor, lovie”, and you do, wincing as you feel the blood circulation return to your sore feet. He puts the pillow on the ground near your feet, bending down to fluff it up a bit for your disposal. You thank him for the considerate action, before assuming your position below him again - the pillow cushioning your knees and providing you much needed relief from the hard marble floor. 
“Look at me, lovie”, he commands and you follow him eagerly, tilting your head up to meet his dark eyes. He looks godly, hovering above you like an ethereal deity - his scarred hands and intimidating gait only gives your body the incentive to feel the thrum of desire in your bloodstream as it flows south, making you ready for him. 
For both of them. 
“A little help here, Johnny?” he beckons and the other man stands in front of Simon, shielding your view of him with his back as he helps the masked man take off his shirt, and if the muffled groans are anything to go by - they’re both kissing and you cannot even see Simon’s face. After a moment, he unzips his pants and lets the garment fall down to his ankles - leaving him in nothing but a dark pair of boxer briefs. 
Johnny falls down to his knees in front of him and Simon has his mask back on. Kneeling below him, he uses his mouth on his clothed cock, peppering him with soft kisses filled with drool and lust. Simon groans above him, letting his fingers card through the man’s mohawk as he encourages him with throaty noises to continue his actions. Eager to feel all of him, Johnny slides his thumbs into the band of his briefs as he slowly slides down the garment from his hips, letting it pool around his ankles as well. From where you’re seated, you can see how thick Simon is, and you cannot help the way your mouth waters at the idea of being used by him. 
You snap out of your thoughts when Simon pulls Johnny onto his feet by his mohawk, forcing him to bare his neck to the taller man and you swear you can hear him whimper when Simon catches his throat with his other hand before giving it a light squeeze. 
The sight before you is nothing short of heavenly. 
“Eager, are we?” he taunts him, taking his breath away with just a squeeze of his fingers and he lets out a throaty hum as he eyes up his partner, noticing the semi he’s been sporting in his jeans ever since he got a taste of you. 
“But it’s her turn”, he motions to you and you straighten your back as both men look back at you. 
“C’mere love”, he calls out to you, and you get down to your hands and knees, willing to crawl to him if that is what it will take for him to let you touch him, feel him under your fingertips. 
He shakes his head, stopping you in your tracks.
“No, bring that pillow with you too”, he orders you, “Don’t want your knees to get sore now, do we?”
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You feel his hands pull at your hair gently as he brings out his still hard cock out of the confines of your soft mouth. Your lips are sheen with spit and pre-cum and the running makeup paints a debauched picture of you before these men. 
So perfect. So ruined. And all theirs for the night. 
You look up at him with teary eyes and longing and Simon is almost tempted to allow you to keep going, to let himself finish in your warm, soft mouth. But he has quite a night planned for the both of you(You and Johnny, Johnny and you - consuming his thoughts and mind and even his heart.), and he’d rather not finish in a handful of pumps before you. 
“Don’t pout at me, pretty girl”, he chides you playfully, his chest heaving as he takes in deep breaths to soothe the fire in his lungs that you have invoked within him.
You whine noncommittally, eyes focused on him and only him - and it almost shakes him to his core how much he likes having your attention all for himself. (Greedy, greedy, greedy, greedy, greedy, greedy, greedy-)
“Gotta get you ready for the both of us, yeah?” you nod eagerly at his statement, and then you feel a pair of arms around your waist lift you up in the air and you shriek as you’re thrown on the soft mattress, bouncing lightly at the impact as your head falls back on the bed. 
“Johnny!” you scream out in surprise, almost tempted to scold him for scaring you but his calloused fingers trace your curves and they tickle your skin that makes it hard for you to control yourself. You let out a soft giggle as the man hovers above you, letting his hands map out every little scar, every little mole, every little mark on your soft skin. 
He grins at you, before bending down and taking your lips in a soft kiss - growling a little as he tastes Simon on your lips. Pulling away, he looks down on you again as he cages you between his arms. 
“Hi there, bonnie," he whispers breathlessly. 
“Hi there, handsome”, you whisper earnestly, before turning your head to the side and kissing the inside of his wrist. 
“Johnny will help you get ready. Won’t you, Johnny?” Simon asks, and Johnny groans as he lowers himself down over your body till his eyes line up with the hem of your soft black panties. You exhale soundly in anticipation, propping yourself onto your elbows so your head is up and your eyes gaze into Johnny’s warm brown pupils. You let out an audible exhale when you feel his hands grab the meat of your inner thigh, before he leaves a tender kiss on it, letting out his tongue to taste your skin. Your head falls back on the pillow below you, and your hands find purchase in the luscious locks of his mohawk as Johnny lets his tongue rile you up by licking and kissing every inch of your exposed skin, avoiding where you needed him the most on purpose. 
“So sweet”, his teeth lightly bite the meat of your inner thigh, and you wince at the pain before whimpering. 
“So pretty”, his fingers play with the flimsy fabric covering your cunt, slowly tugging them to the side and revealing how needy you are for him. For both of them. 
“Johnny, please”, you beg him so sweetly with your fingers tugging on his hair, that he finally gives in to your demands with no further ado. 
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It isn’t long until Johnny is fucking you with all he has. 
You have your face buried sideways into the pillow and a leg propped up on his strong shoulder, the position offering him a chance to fuck you deeper that your fingers or any half-hearted partner ever has. 
The pillow is wet from the sweat and spit and tears it has soaked up from you, and you bite the fluff of it, trying your best to mute your incomprehensive noises down - lest the nice couple fucking you right now get a noise complaint from their neighbours tomorrow - but to no avail. 
It’s like Johnny is on a personal quest to make you scream for everyone to hear. 
It also helps that Simon has taken it upon himself to fuck his boyfriend dumb, and what a sight it must be - Johnny fucking into you desperately and letting Simon control the rhythm of his hips as he fucks into him. You’d beckon that he probably has his tongue out - no man can survive fucking someone and getting fucked at the same time without letting it dumb him down like a mutt in heat. 
Too bad the room is pitch black for you to witness the filthy sight. 
At least the dark room allows Simon to take off his mask, even though it stings to know that you may never know the man behind the mask - may never remember the man who is giving you the best night of your life before you return back to your mundane life of spreadsheets, burnt coffee in styrofoam cups and manila folders the next morning. 
You feel your legs shake - the lethal amalgamation of pleasure and exhaustion coating your bones as you feel Johnny hit the spongy spot deep in you that makes you keel and beg into the mattress for the much overdue orgasm that has been building up inside you for the better part of the hour. 
He bends down, letting his tongue lick your neck and his sharp incisors drag over the taut skin as he mumbles about how pretty you sound when you’re fucked dumb. None of that matters to you right now, not when you’re this close to relief - but Johnny doesn’t oblige; either too dumbed down just like you to understand what you need, or denying you what you need on purpose - which is probably the cruelest thing he could fucking do to you tonight. 
You feel another pair of fingers slide up your thighs before said fingers finally map out your swollen clit amongst the mess of sweat and limbs and Simon uses his calloused fingertips to gently rub you until you’re crying and arching your back before you slide down back into the bed, your limbs sagging with relief as you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. 
“Fuck, bonnie”, you hear Johnny grunt out, feel him fuck you rougher and feel his hands grope your breasts roughly, but you’re far away now - floating away in a strange, hazy headspace as you hear his groans before his hips finally stutter to a close and then he slumps forward, letting the brunt of his weight fall down on you. 
Simon follows him soon after, slowly pulling out from his partner with a soft ‘Fuck’.
You whine at the impact, pushing at his shoulders weakly as you urge him to get his weight off from your sore body. You sighed out when he eventually obliged, letting himself fall into bed beside you, his fingers gently playing with your messy hair. You feel his stubble tickle your face as he lands a soft kiss against your jaw, “You were so good for us, lass”. 
You preen at the praise, letting his soft words and touch comfort you as you slowly feel yourself regain control of your body and your mind, already missing how you felt just a moment ago. 
You can hear the running faucet in the bathroom next door, and listen to the doors creak and soft footfalls before Simon returns to the scene with a wet washcloth. He taps your knee and you part your legs obediently for him - feeling the wet cloth drag over your innermost parts as he wipes you clean before offering you a few face wipes kept near his nightstand, which you take gratefully and you wipe away the smudged makeup, smearing the ruined mascara all over your cheeks. You hear Simon sigh before he gently pries the thin wipe from your hands, taking it upon himself to help you clean up nicely. In the dim moon light peeking through the windows, you notice he has his mask back on, and you feel disappointed at how you haven’t been able to look at him. You feel Johnny’s fingers gently massage your scalp, and the tension in your shoulders leaves you promptly, making you sag into the soft mattress as he coos at you, occasionally kissing your cheeks. It’s almost enough to put you at ease. 
It’s not long before the boys clean up after themselves before they join you back in bed. Sandwiched between the two men, you feel exhaustion and the afterglow lull you into a false sense of security - and you almost feel like you’re cared for. 
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You hadn’t been able to fall asleep, despite your best efforts. Your thoughts have been nothing short of cruel, and you only feel shame creep under your skin the more you think about how this night had transpired. 
You have desperately gone home of two stranger men (who are together, no less), sat down on your knees like a desperate whore (and liked it), had gotten naked for them (and let them see all of your curves and rolls and blemishes), and let them fuck you dumb till you almost forgot your damn name. 
And now you lie between them, unable to put your mind at ease and sleep away the second thoughts.
Mortification seems to be the least of your worries at the moment. 
The worst part seems to be the fact that you wished for nothing more than to prolong the facade of love and gratitude they had for you when they cleaned you up, only for it to be redirected to each other as they checked in on each other with hushed whispers and soft kisses, their intermingled hands serving you a bitter reminder that you cannot overstay your welcome. 
It’s them first. And then you. 
You are just another body they had invited to warm their bed for the night. 
You are quick to wiggle out of the bed, feeling your ears burn in embarrassment as you try your best to locate your discarded clothes on the cold bedroom floor. You find your skirt near the legs of the bed, your cotton panties not far off from there. Your blouse and bra lie near the door, and you’re almost dressed when you hear a light click and see the light of the table lamp illuminate the room in a soft yellow. Johnny blinks, still sluggish from his interrupted sleep as he rubs away the sleep from his eyes, and you stay standing, frozen in your step. You almost feel guilty for waking him up. Were you not quiet enough?
You feel like a child who got caught with her hand in the cookie jar by her mother. 
“Yer leavin’?” he asks with a helpless look on his face, and you almost walk back into his arms.
Almost go back to the space they have created for you - between them. 
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The clock reads a quarter past three when they both offer to drive you home. 
It’s not long before Simon wakes up from the commotion. (You turn around and train your eyes on the wall, waiting until you’re certain that his face is covered - having taken the hint that he would not welcome the idea of revealing his identity to you yet.) Soon enough, they’re both asking you why you’re up and leaving and the sincerity in their voices almost convinces you that they want you here. 
But you use work as an excuse to go back home, and despite how obvious that lie is, Simon insists on driving you home nonetheless. (You almost turn him down, but Johnny pipes in, “There’s not gonna be a whole lotta cabs for ye to hail. Let us make sure our lady reaches home safe,”, and you feel your walls crumble slightly, feel your very foundation of self-hatred and pity shake at how he addresses you as theirs. As if you’re now a part of them, like they’ve been a part of each other for years.)
They ask you to stay anyway, promising to drop you off to your home first thing in the morning - bribing you with promises of cuddles in your sleep and breakfast in bed; promising you intimacy you’re wholly undeserving of, and you cut them off swiftly as you tell them that you’d rather be at home right now so that you can wake up later and go straight to office - no detours welcomed. 
Reluctantly, they comply.
So you let them both escort you out of the apartment building and you stand with Johnny while Simon revs up his car and lets the engine warm up before letting you both sit inside. Johnny naturally assumes his place beside Simon, sitting in the passenger seat and you sit in the backseat. You almost feel apprehensive about telling them your address, but your rattled brain cannot seem to care about it - too tired and strung up to give a shit about ‘stranger danger’. 
Simon types out your address on the phone and he soon follows the path - the soft hum of the engine making you succumb to the tiredness you feel and you lie down on your side, the leather seat of the car cushioning your now-throbbing head and you cannot help but close your eyes just for a moment. 
After a few minutes, you hear Johnny talk about buying groceries and he asks out loud if his boyfriend would like to add anything to the list. Simon softly replies back with a few additions - whey protein, some bananas, pancake mix, shower gel and a room freshener spray. Johnny mulls over it before recalling some more things they need to buy soon. (“Dusting cloths. Manure. Oh, gotta get some stuff from the hardware store too!” “Don’t forget to get some cereal and protein bars.” “Roger that, Lt.”)
The conversation lulls. And then it begins anew. 
Simon asks Johnny if he’d like to have biscuits and gravy for breakfast, and he lets out an almost disappointing groan at his atrocious food choices. (Or so he tells him.) Instead, Johnny suggests they have some hash browns. (“Gotta get that carb in for the long day ahead!” and Simon just chuckles dryly at his reasoning.)
Then, they talk some more - about work and people. About how they’d need to go back to work, and how they’d miss staying home together. About how they should get some cigars for ‘Price’, whoever that may be. About how ‘Gaz’ is vacationing in Italy with his family. About how they should have a vacation the next time they get a break that lasts them more than a week. 
They hold hands - at least Johnny does, and he brings his partner’s hand to his face, softly kissing his knuckles, and that is when your curiosity wins over as you open your eyes to witness the sickly sweet scene of two men, two souls being in love. Johnny looks at him like Simon’s his entire universe - and 
You shut your eyes quickly, feeling like an outsider between them both. 
That’s maybe because you are one, your brain supplies you with this thought rather unkindly and you dig your nails into your palms to distract yourself from it. 
The scene oddly enough reminds you of your parents when they were still in love and when you were young and sleeping in the backseat after an exciting evening at the city fair. It is far too domestic and tender for an outsider like you to intrude upon, and so you keep your eyes shut - unwilling to witness them and get your heart broken again. 
As their conversation fades to silence again, you bravely open your eyes - squinting in the dark as the only source of light are the street lights outside. You witness Simon with his hand on Johnny’s thigh, his thumb drawing soft circles against the soft cotton of his black joggers. You witness Johnny humming to himself with a satisfied smile on his face as he occasionally looks at Simon with love in his eyes. Pure, unconditional love brimming in his brown, almond eyes. And when you look at Simon, his eyes reflect the same - unfiltered affection and absolute devotion; all these emotions reserved for the love of his life. His only love of his life. 
It makes you sick. 
Sick with yearning. Sick with the green monster of envy. 
You’re so sick with it all. 
This time when you close your eyes, you feel a tear drip down your nose as you let the soft whirr of the engine and Johnny’s humming act as the lullaby you needed to hear before you sleep.
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You feel someone shake you softly by your shoulder when you come into consciousness. 
“Wake up, dove”, you hear Simon call you, “We’re here already”. 
You stare up at him as he hovers over you from outside the car. His masked face gives little away about how he’s feeling at the moment, but you feel embarrassed all the same - for intruding upon them and for sleeping in their car as they drove you home half-asleep and still in their pajamas. 
You get up and use the back of your hand to wipe away any drool, snot or tears you might’ve let out while you were out like a light in the backseat of their car. The opened car door lets in the chilly night wind, and you shiver at the drop in temperature. 
“Here, have this”, he offers you a windcheater jacket - and you gratefully take it and zip it up till the collar of the clothing lightly brushes your chin.  He extends his hand to you, and you take it  - letting his calloused palm warm up your cold fingers as he escorts you out of the vehicle. Once you’re out on the concrete pavement, you notice Johnny leaning against one of the many lamp posts scattered across your street. He’s rubbing his hands for some warmth, and the yellow streetlights act like a halo around his tousled mohawk. He’s angelic. 
The steady echo of your footfalls catches his attention, and he turns to look at you with such warmth in his eyes that you falter in your steps for a moment. His kind, blue eyes look at you like you’re the moon - like you’re something familiar and he’s known you forever. 
You do not know what to make of it. 
“Had a nice sleep, lass?” he asks you casually, and you feel the tip of your ears warm up in embarrassment. 
You nod demurely, before responding, “Yeah, I did. I’m so sorry I troubled you with escorting me back home”. 
“Don’t apologize”, Simon speaks up as he rests a gentle hand on your left shoulder, before he joins Johnny in standing in front of you. He looks at you with an unreadable look, and you worry that he can see what you don’t wish anyone to notice. That he can tell. 
“We had to make sure our bonnie reached her home safe”, Johnny quips, and you feel your resolve crumble just a little bit - his honeyed words coaxing you to hug him and it catches him off guard, just a little. To feel your arms wrap around his body, to feel your heart beat so fast before falling into synch with his
“Thank you”, and you mean it - for taking care of you, for making you forget your shitty office and your shitty job for the night, for driving you back home, for showing you what love is (even though it burnt you from inside to see what they have and know that you’d never have that). 
You’re thankful to them for a lot of things. 
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You’re curled up on your side on the bed as you try to catch some sleep before the sun greets you from between the curtains over your window, but all attempts to go back to sleep fail you. 
You almost wish you hadn’t been woken up. You almost wish you were still in their car, letting them drive and talk to each other. You almost wish you hadn’t left their bed - letting their rough hands gently caress her into a peaceful slumber, feeling their love for each other fill her up. 
You should’ve at least gotten their number. 
It was worth a shot, and if they didn’t want anything to do with you after tonight, you’d have been able to console yourself with the possibility that you won’t have to see them in the future and get taunted by the very notion that you have been all too desperate and all too needy for someone to love you. 
But you didn’t, and you caress your own arm with light fingers as you convince yourself that it was all for the best that you hadn’t done anything about it. 
This was all for one night. They just needed someone to warm their beds for a night, and you did just that. Wishing for it to be something more is just plain stupid on your part. They’ve loved each other for a lifetime, and you’ve known them for only a night. You cannot fathom carving a place for yourself between Johnny and Simon. Simon and Johnny. 
Not without becoming an unwanted third wheel - tolerated by the couple since they’re too courteous to tell you off. Not without becoming a placeholder - a human paperweight until a better man or a better woman comes along to be where they rightfully belong. With them. 
So you hug yourself tight with your nails digging into your arm, and gently rock back and forth in the same place on your bed, as you soothe yourself with empty words and tell yourself that what you did was a brave thing - and this was all for the best, even if it makes your chest feel like a hollowed out tree, empty from within. 
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Note -
Got inspired by the poem - 'After the Threesome, They Both Take You Home' by Sue Hyon Bae cuz it resonated with how I have always been a bystander or a temporary placeholder between friends and couples alike - always fearing that I will never be able to experience love. Started writing this fic fuelled up on my personal thoughts and projections. Then, October came and seasonal depression knocked my ass out. Got back into writing it. Couldn't handle it well, so I rushed the ending. Bon apple tit, y'all. Or whatever the fuck they say in France.
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sarahisslytherin · 8 months
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fools in love || r.b.
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summary: your marriage to regulus has been arranged meticulously by walburga in order to secure a pureblood, slytherin wife for her youngest son. you make a lovely couple but you doubt he will ever grow to love you the way you have grown to love him.
contains: some light angst with a fluffy ending.
a/n: i know it's short, just a little something to ease back into the writing mindset.
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12 grimmauld place is frozen in time this late at night. the halls are empty, the staircase lit only by bits of moonlight. tomorrow there will be light in these halls. there will be music and laughter. there will be rare displays of affection; the embrace of an estranged brother, the grave look of a mother. you will wear white and regulus will take your hand. but for now, the only light in dark grimmauld place is coming from the small flame on your bedside table.
your marriage to regulus had been arranged meticulously by walburga in order to secure a pureblood, slytherin wife for her youngest son. you made a lovely couple, you must admit, complimenting each other in ways you wouldn’t have expected of such a forced relationship. you’re sure regulus is pleased with you, but you doubt he will ever grow to love you the way you have grown to love him. 
now you sit up in your bed and shiver. half from the cold, half from the nerves. your eyes fix upon a corner of the room as your head runs wild with worry. will this marriage last? is regulus only in it to please his family? how long will he tolerate you before he realizes he wants someone he can actually love? 
you stand and slip on your robe, which billows as you pace barefoot into the hall. your candle lights the way to regulus’ door, the flame doing little to fight the cold. after two hesitant knocks comes a long pause, and you’re already turning to leave when the door finally opens. 
“to what do i owe the visit?” he smirks as he takes you in, examining your disheveled state. he steps aside and you waste no time marching into the dimly lit bedroom.
“we can call off the wedding if you want.” you blurt out. “we can call it all off.”
his brows furrow in confusion. “what? why would i want that?”
“reg, you don’t have to pretend with me.” you plead, taking his cold hands in your own. “what good will we be if we aren’t both in love?”
at this, his hand drops from yours to instead pinch the bridge of his nose. “i knew this would happen.” he sighs as he sits at the edge of the bed. 
“you did?” you ask in disbelief, kneeling in front of him and brushing a stray lock of hair away from his eyes. “i just don’t think we should go through with this. do you?”
“i don’t know.” he sighs, clearly at a loss for words. “i don’t know what i was thinking. i supposed you’d just fall in love over time, or at least grow fond enough of me to make this work. but i see that simply won’t happen and i understand. i’ll go speak with mother first thing in the morning, call the whole thing off.”
you watch as he puts his head in his hands, his breathing growing ragged and heavy.
“reg, i- that’s not what i meant.” you rasp. “i’m certainly in love with you, i only thought you didn’t feel the same.”
regulus gives you an expression somewhere between shock, pain and embarassment. “it seems only i can be madly in love for months and not let the person know till the wedding.” you can’t help but chuckle at that, sitting beside him on the bed as you gently pry his hands from his face and into your lap. “i thought you knew.” he sighs.
“and i thought you knew.” you smile, a bittersweet tear streaming down your cheek.
“what fools we are.” regulus laughs into your neck, his lashes brushing against you. 
“we are all fools in love.” you say before meeting his gaze. “i’m your fool, regulus.”
“and i yours.”
taglist: @velvetcloxds @oliverwoodmarrymepls @canibeoneofthepogues @leahsficemporium @saintlike78 ​ @sereinegemini ​ @imabee-oralizard ​ @sheraayasher ​ @mendesxruel ​ @gilmore-angel ​ @cupids-crystals ​ @amourrs
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antimony-medusa · 5 months
Text
on Consequences in minecraft streaming
Okay so one of the real common things that I've been seeing lately is an increasingly passionate call for certain characters to experience Consequences (and the rest of the post always makes it clear that they mean a specific type of definatively negative repercussions) for their actions during QSMP events. And aside from the absolute deja vu of having seen these same calls when DSMP was airing, and how that turned out (sorry, the syndicate did not all have a meeting where they apologized for their sins while tommy told them they were horrible people), I'm not 100% sure if that's going to happen or pan out in the exact way that I think people are aiming for and expecting will happen.
I keep seeing a lot of people saying that it would be bad writing if people don't get "consequences" for their actions, and what they're specifically asking for is punishment and for people to realize what they're doing was wrong. BBH is supposed to repent for furniture thefts and torturing the people keeping him from his kid. Phil is supposed to realize that actually he's good at PVP and apologize for saying that his team has been suffering in purgatory. Tubbo is supposed to fill in his tubhole and only do things other people ask him to do.
But like, so much of the time, what we're seeing is these streamers being interested in writing morally grey characters, just some little guys who make bad decisions, and the thing about characters being morally grey is that they don't always have a come to jesus moment and become morally pure. Sometimes they just keep being morally grey. Sometimes they get worse on purpose.
Maybe BBH never decides that torturing that guy was bad, because he wanted to get his FUCKING KID back. Like, I seriously think you have to be prepared for that character arc to never end in Bad going "that was wrong to do", and maybe his cubito will still be happy. Phil is a dude with anxiety who's been sure that his kids are going to die from the moment he got to purgatory, streaming at 1-4 in the morning while other teams break into their base, even if bolas goes insane and scrapes out a win I think it's way more likely that that team is gonna go "what a wild fluke that's the power of gas masks" and not have a moment where they go "it was unfair of us to assume that we were underpowered, I guess everybody else was the underdogs! Our bad." Tubbo is tubbo, he's already building a new create thing, he is not going to apologize for leaving marks on the landscape with mod packs.
Like, the streamers are interested in making human characters, making interesting decisions, not communicating moral lessons to their fanbases. Bad is operating within a Taken film, not a sermon. Quackity wants his cubito to be pathetic, gay, and out for revenge, not to communicate the importance of forgiveness to those who hurt you. Tubbo's victory condition is having a nice date with Fred, full stop, does not care who he has to run over to get there.
Absolutely I think there are people intentionally doing corruption/villany arcs on the server, and they probably intend for that to lead places. There will be Consequences, as in, things will happen. Cellbit is doing cannibalsm on purpose, and not as a teaching moment about how good cannibalism is for your social bonds. But like, maybe that leads to him being thrown out of his family and not trusted because of his sins, OR maybe it leads to him murdering his way through a federation complex, facing down a bloody cucurucho, and going "you made me into you and I hate this" and eating him. Narrative consequences does not always mean punishment and a return to moral purity. Sometimes people just do bad things, and then repercussions happen, but they don't necessarily "see the error of their ways". The specific call for like— retribution and repentance as the consequences people are going for— for punishment— if a character has done something bad they don't "deserve" good things to happen to them and it's bad writing for that to happen— I just don't think that those are the stories the creators are necessarily interested in telling.
And secondly, what people are often asking for is character conflict— they want people to be socially excluded by characters they feel have been wronged, and learn the error of their ways that way until they apologize sufficiently. Phil is gonna hate BBH or Tubbo is going to hate Roier or something once they return from Purgatory. People want their cubitos to have beef with each other.
But the thing is, on a meta level, I don't doubt that the entire admin team and streaming team on QSMP is just screamingly aware that this fandom cannot be trusted with conflict. The election was just part of it, but I made it through the election, and Purgatory has been so much more unpleasant— and I am not just talking about twitter. This website, tumblr, has been full of people fighting each other for their teams. And I am not just saying "red team fans have been bad", because boy have I been staring in horrified awe at the takes that some red team people have been putting forward (what on EARTH do you mean BBH deserves to have his kid die, touch grass immediately), but if I step outside of red team circles, everyone is talking about how red team people are horrible hypocrites who win too much and only deserve to suffer (I saw this posting the day that blue had back to back wins, so it isn't even tied to how well red is doing). The quality of the discourse has been increasingly unpleasant, and this has been taking place in streamer's chats, on twitter, in discords, and here on tumblr.
Every QSMP streamer is increasingly aware that having conflict with another streamer is basically sending a wave of negativity their way, and setting off bombs in the fandom at the same time. And they're all friends with each other! Sometimes they decide that the story beat they're going for is worth it and just tell each other to stay off twitter, but like, you have got to be prepared that maybe they will just be friends again. And that might be weaker writing, for people to keep forgiving each other, but that is an unfortunate aspect of the technical aspects of this medium and this fandom. Maybe the creators would be more willing to have character conflict if they didn't know that that meant the person they were mad at in-game would get death threats on social media.
Like no fucking wonder Phil apologized for getting mad at Wil within the same stream and before Wil said sorry to him. This is why the French have given up on revolution arcs, you know it's why the women are all very careful to get along with people. All of those creators know the cost of making anyone into a villain, and I'm just saying maybe get prepared that we won't have inner-party conflict. Maybe they'll decide it's worth it for a fun story moment! Maybe they won't. Maybe don't get 100% married to the idea that the only good writing possible moving forward is for people to be thrown out of the community and then repent for their sins.
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azrielsdove · 3 months
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Rejected is one of my fave fics to date, so I have to ask if I can get a Cassianx f reader where the reader has gone through something tragic (what that is totally up to you) and Cassian helps her through it and while healing the mating bond snaps? (Feel free to play with this idea how you see fit)
Safe
Warnings: Violence, Description of attack on reader
***
Cassian was holding you tight against him, flying as quickly as he could to the House of Wind. You could feel each heavy breath drag from his chest, the panic radiating from him. You stared unblinkingly into the night, still comprehending what had just happened.
He landed on one of the balconies, running to the kitchen and yelling for anyone who may be there. He placed you so delicately on the table, laying your too-still body down. Azriel came running, eyes widening as he took in your form in front of him. “What happened?”
Cassian was rummaging through the cabinets, pulling healing supplies out in a wild manner. “I shouldn’t have let her go down there alone.” Azriel looked at him, cocking his head in confusion.
“Cass,” he tried again, “what happened?”
You became aware of the steady drip, drip of your blood landing on the floor below. The realization brought the searing pain in your side and arm back, the sudden feeling of pain almost causing you to wince.
If you had the care to.
Cassian brought the supplies next to you, hands shaking too hard to thread the needle. Azriel took it from him, preparing to stitch you up himself.
“She wanted to go down to the city, get a few drinks and walk around. It was late, I know what kind of people prowl around at that time.” He shook his head, as if that would make the sight of your bloodied body disappear. “I left her in a shop to run to another, just for a minute. She must have left, and-“ His voice broke, shaking sobs racking over his body. Azriel paused stitching your wounds, placing a hand on his friend’s back. Cassian sucked in a deep breath before continuing on. “I went back and noticed she was gone, so I started looking around. I didn’t think anything bad had happened until I caught the scent of blood. I ran, finding her in the shadows between two buildings. Like that.” He buried his face in his hands, ashamed that something like this could happen to you.
Azriel stayed quiet, resuming the careful stitching of your wounds. You hardly felt him, mind still stuck in that little alley. The male who had attacked you, trying to get money. You didn’t understand why he had been so violent. Rhys paid you well enough that you would have easily handed over whatever he wanted, had he just asked. Instead he plunged a knife into your gut, and when you tried to fight back he sliced it down your arm. He ran without even taking any money. He attacked you for truly, no reason.
Azriel was saying something to Cassian, forcing him to calm down. Cool water brushed against your now stitched wounds, washing away the dried blood on your skin. Soft bandages were carefully placed over you, more words shared that you didn’t catch. Someone was scooping you up into their arms, carrying you to your room. You were placed on the bed, warm covers wrapped around your aching body. A vial of something was poured down your throat, and before sleep took over you noticed one of the males placing a chair next to your bed. A glimmer of red was all you saw before falling into a blissful, dreamless sleep.
***
Your head was pounding. You winced as you opened your eyes, sunlight streaming through the windows. Within a second the curtains were pulled shut, your vision adjusting to find Cassian standing by them. He shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “How are you, uh, feeling?” You stared blankly at him, trying to remember what had happened. He cleared his throat, eyes not quite looking at you. He seemed…guilty?
“What happened?” You asked, wincing at the soreness of your throat. Cassian looked up to the ceiling and swallowed deeply.
“You were attacked when we were in town,” he said, his voice quiet. Your brow furrowed as you tried to remember. You could recall being in the shop with Cassian, and then him leaving to run into another. Not much after that-a sudden flash of memory ran through your body. You gasped as if you could feel the blade digging into your stomach again, the males hand tight around your throat. You instinctively curled into a ball, ignoring the sharp pain in your side at the action. You were going to be sick.
Cassian came to your side, reaching a hand out to comfort you. You yelped, rolling over and off the side of the bed. “Please don’t touch me,” you whispered, tears pricking at the back of your eyes. All you could feel was that males hands on you, digging in your pockets and threatening your life. Cassian looked like you had stabbed him, but he respected your wishes.
“Would you like me to get one of the girls?” He asked quietly, hands held tight behind his back. You nodded, still cowering from the floor. He ducked his head in response and went from the room, determined to find someone else to comfort you.
After what felt like hours of you sitting, shaking on the floor, the door pushed open. Mor ran in, immediately diving to sit by your side. “Oh, sweet girl,” she soothed, looking over you. “What do you need?” Her eyes bore into you like she could see what you were thinking. You couldn’t help the tears that slid down your face as you leaned into her, allowing her arms to wrap around you. She held you tight against her, running her hand through your hair. “You’re safe,” she murmured over and over again, reminding you that no one would harm you up here.
Mor held you as long as you needed, soothing you until your tears slowed. She helped you back into your bed, tucking the covers snug around you. “I am going to go get you something to eat and drink, okay? Would you like me to have someone wait with you?” Her eyes were wide with worry, clearly remembering what it feels like to be in such a vulnerable state. You shook your head, feeling better enough to be alone for a few minutes.
You sunk into the warmth of your bed while she was gone, replaying the night of your accident over and over. You and Cassian at the shop, Cassian running to a neighboring one, you going to meet him. The male jumping out of the shadows, dragging you backwards into the alley. The way you tried to scream as he wrapped his hand around your throat, threatening you if you made any noise. Your desperate plea that you would give him whatever he wanted if he just let you go, that you work with the High Lord and can get him anything, just please, please, please let you go. The feeling of the knife in your stomach, the sharp pain burning through your body. How you tried to fight back and he sliced down your arm, ripping muscle to keep you subdued. The darkness coming, Cassians voice yelling….
You rubbed your hands furiously over your eyes, trying to banish the memories away. You didn’t want to think about it anymore. You couldn’t think about it anymore.
Mor returned shortly after with a small plate and glass of water, sitting by your side until you had finished both. “There,” she said, taking them from you, “much better. I’m going to give you something to help you sleep, if that’s okay?” She held up a little glass vial, one you recognized from the night you were attacked.
“Okay,” you answered, reaching to take the drug from her. Anything to keep those thoughts away. You took it in one drink, breathing deep as the dreamless sleep took over once again.
***
“You cannot hide in here forever.” You glared at Mor standing at the foot of your bed, hands on her hips.
“I can do what I want,” you shot back, crossing your arms firmly in front of you. She threw her hands up in exasperation, turning away from you.
“I can’t help you if you won’t help yourself.” You knew she was angry, tired of trying to bring you back to life. You didn’t care. You were happy to lay in bed and hide under your covers, stealing bottles of wine from Rhys at night.
“No one’s making you help me. You are free to leave whenever.” Your eyes burned, dry from the lack of sleep or proper nutrition. Mor turned back to you, fire in her eyes.
“I understand you went through something traumatic, but you don’t need to throw your life away due to it.” She stared at you, waiting to see what you would say. You pushed yourself out of the bed and walked to the door, opening it wide.
“Then leave, Morrigan. I don’t need a gods damned babysitter.” You made a big show of bowing by the door, gesturing her to go. She shook her head and stormed out, turning on her heel before you could slam it shut.
“Rhys won’t let you live here forever, rotting away. Figure it out.” You stuck your tongue out at her, ignoring her shout of frustration as she stormed away. You happily closed and locked the door behind her, walking over to your nightstand and grabbing the wine on top of it. You drank deeply, forcing any guilt away.
The wounds on your physical form had healed, but the mental ones were still strong. How could you tell Mor, who had overcome the most horrific things, that you couldn’t get past what happened? That you had nightmares every time you closed your eyes about that male, that you couldn’t sleep or think without it haunting you. It had been weeks since your attack, and no one expected you to be taken down so badly by it. You stumbled over to one of the windows in your room, sitting on the bench in front of it. You’re pathetic, you thought to yourself, taking another drink. No wine spilled on to your waiting lips, prompting you to investigate the bottle.
Empty.
You cursed, knowing tonight you would have to leave your room in search of another. Fine. Whatever. You would do anything to keep your feelings away, your memories dampened.
You were pondering how best to sneak out when a loud banging at your door made you jump. You sighed, knowing it was someone to yell at you. You walked over, opening the door with a sickly sweet smile on your face.
The smile dropped when you saw it was Cassian standing there.
He looked you over, nose wrinkling at the state of you. You suppose you’d looked better, the days-old nightgown and unwashed hair not the best you’ve ever done. “Mor says you’re a lost cause.” You rolled your eyes. Of course she did.
“Why do you care?” You felt a pang of regret at the pain in his eyes, knowing how heavily he blamed himself for what happened.
He took a breath, standing up straight. “I want to help you.”
You laughed.
“I don’t need help, General. Thanks for the offer.” You moved to shut the door, annoyed when he stuck his foot out to stop you. His gaze darkened as he looked down at you, his size intimidating.
“Let me rephrase that. I am going to help you. Meet me at the training ring tomorrow morning, at dawn. If you aren’t there, i’ll be sure to let Rhys know how you spend your nights.” His eyes dipped down to the empty bottle in your hand, his intention all too clear. You scoffed, slamming the door shut on him.
Who does he think he is bossing me around? You think, throwing yourself on your bed. The wine would have to wait.
***
You shivered in the chill morning air, uncomfortable in your now loose-fitting fighting leathers. You were embarrassed to put them on earlier, shocked at how much your body had changed in the last few weeks. You knew you hadn’t been taking care of yourself, but you didn’t think it would be this bad.
You glanced at the doorway again, waiting for Cassian to come. Was he so sure you would bail that he decided to not even show up? Guilt ran over you, ashamed that you had pushed everyone so far away that this was their impression of you. You kicked at the sand under your feet, hot tears filling your eyes.
Footsteps came from the stairwell and your head shot up, quickly wiping the tears that had fallen. Cassian halted at the sight of you, clearly not expecting you to have showed up. He took note of your watery eyes, concern flashing through his own. “I didn’t think you’d come,” was all he said before continuing on towards the weapons.
You trailed after him, shrugging your shoulders. Truthfully, you couldn’t handle the idea of Rhys coming to tell you how disappointed he was. The High Lord had offered you a job when you were struggling, impressed by your intelligence and outside thinking. You were happy to come live here, a far better home than the little shack you slept in. You could handle anger and disappointment from Mor and Cassian, as your friends, but from your boss? The thought had sobered you up, deciding that accepting Cassians help wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
“We will begin with stretching and body exercises, building your strength back up.” He turned to face you, wrapping his hands in training tapes. “Then, we will move on to defense.” You paled at his words, at the reminder of why you needed to learn defensive tactics. The feeling of that males knife in your stomach flooded your senses, your fists clenching tight at your sides. Cassian observed the reaction, his expression softening. “Here,” he said, stepping closer to you and wrapping your hands as well. You forced your hands to stay steady, not wanting him to feel the almost permanent shake in them these days.
He started you on stretches, your muscles terribly tight after so long without use. You groaned at the discomfort. “Let me help.” You looked at Cassian, hesitant to allow him to touch you. He sighed and held his hands up. “I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. If you don’t want me to, just say no. I won’t be mad.” Your heart squeezed at his words, at the kindness you didn’t deserve.
“Okay,” you said, “you can help.” He instructed you to lay flat on your back and bend your knees. One of his hands wrapped gingerly around your ankle, while the other laid flat against your thigh. He slowly pushed your leg up to your stomach, the muscles flexing as he did. You couldn’t help the small moan at the feeling, the stretch releasing some of the tension in your body. Cassian’s hands tightened on you and you flushed, embarrassed by your reaction. “I, uh, sorry,” you mumbled out, forcing your eyes to the sky.
“It’s fine.” He set your leg back down and moved to the other. You bit your lip to keep from making the same noise of relief, certain you would combust if you embarrassed yourself any farther.
The rest of the morning passed without incident, Cassian leading your body through more stretches. He ended the session with some practice punches, getting the blood flowing in your body. You were properly sweaty by the time you were done, the cool morning long gone under the heat of the sun. “Hey, if you want to join us for lunch, you’re welcome too.” You were a bit stunned by his offer, but a smile ghosted your lips.
“Okay.”
***
Trainings with Cassian were helping you feel strong again. You began to look forward to the early mornings with him, the sessions quickly becoming your favorite time of day. While you were working your body, thoughts of that night disappeared. It was the nights that drove you to the brink of madness, the nightmares still incessant. Some nights you didn’t sleep at all, choosing to stay awake until the first rays of sunlight came out and you could go up to the training ring.
Unfortunately, Cassian was more observant than you would have liked him to be. He began to notice the ever-darkening circles under your eyes and the way you would stumble from exhaustion. His final straw was this morning, as you were doing weapons training. You swung your sword and fell right over at the force of it, narrowly missing falling on the blade itself. “Alright, that’s it.” Cassian hauled you to your feet and practically carried you out of the ring. He brought you down to the kitchen, making you sit as he got you a glass of water. “Talk.”
You looked up at him and sipped your water. “About what?” He shook his head.
“Don’t play with me. Why aren’t you sleeping?” He stared you down, arms crossed in front of him.
You shrugged. “Just can’t.”
“Is it because of what happened?” You stilled. “I know it bothers you, even if you pretend you’re over it.” His eyes bore into your own, drawing the answer from you.
“Yes.” You hated the shake in your voice at the simple word. You hated the pity in Cassian’s expression. He moved to sit down next to you, body facing yours.
“Can I help?”
You shook your head. Not even the sleeping draught was helping anymore. The nightmares seemed to override the magic, coming to torture you no matter what you did. The strain of it all was threatening to destroy you. Cassian carefully cradled your hands in his. “Let me stay with you tonight. I’ll sit by your bed, and if you need me i’ll be right there.” You thought over the offer and decided you may as well try. Perhaps having someone with you would make it easier.
“Okay.”
***
A hand was tight around your throat, a knife digging into your side. “I should’ve killed you that night, sweetheart.” The snarling voice is in your ear, panic overtaking your body. “I’ll just kill you now.” The knife rips across your abdomen and you try to scream, pain radiating throughout your body.
“Please! Please, i’ll give you anything you want, just let me go!” You were sobbing, voice strangled as he pressed his hand harder against you. The knife digs down your arm, rendering it useless.
“I don’t think so, little girl. This is part of the fun.” Your vision was darkening due to your blood loss and he dug the knife into your other arm. You lost the energy to scream, to fight. You crumpled down against the male, blinking into the brighter light outside the alleyway.
“Cass,” you mumbled before all went black.
You shot up with a scream, your fingers clawing at your neck. Strong hands wrapped around your wrists and ripped your arms down. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re safe. You’re safe.” You looked wildly at the male next to you, instinct telling you to run.
He rubbed his thumbs over your wrists soothingly, shushing your thoughts. “You’re safe, I promise. Breathe.” You took a shuddering breath, eyes focusing on his face. Cassian. Tears began pouring down your cheeks as you came out of the nightmare, realizing where you were. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, pressing soft kisses into your hair. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”
You cried until you were dizzy, the exhaustion threatening to take over. You clung to Cassian and buried your face in his chest. “Please don’t go,” you whispered as you felt sleep threaten you again. He laid the two of you down, keeping his arms wrapped around you.
“I won’t. I’ll always be here.” You relaxed in his embrace, breathing deeply. Sleep came quickly, and for the first time in a long time you weren’t afraid of it.
You were safe.
***
Training the next day was the best session you had ever experienced. You felt refreshed after finally getting a restful sleep, ready to tackle whatever Cassian threw at you. You were full of determination, a stark contrast to the shell of yourself you were before.
You were nearing the end of your training session, knives in both hands, when you made a mistake. You stumbled and failed to block his attack. His knife ended up pressed flat against your stomach, in the same spot you had been attacked. You screamed and pushed him away, backing yourself up. “What is wrong with you?!” You yelled, hands shaking.
Cassian dropped the knives he was holding, hands raised in surrender. “You were supposed to block it. I told you, we were going to work on self defense.” You knew it made sense why he would do that, but your anger and fear overshadowed practicality.
“You’re a fucking psycho Cassian!” You threw the knives out of your hands like they were fire.
“I’m trying to help you. That is why we are up here, is it not? To train?” He stepped closer to you, anger of his own rising.
You shook your head. “Do you want to help me? Or do you just like the idea of the poor, weak damsel in distress? I don’t need you to protect me.”
He laughed and moved closer, towering over you. “That’s not what you said last night, when I basically had to rock you to sleep like a babe!” You glared at him, not shying away from his large form.
“You could have left at any time. I was handling it on my own before you came.”
“Handling it? You weren’t sleeping! You were allowing it to take over, turning to drink instead of help.” He moved even closer, your chests brushing with every breath.
“I hate you,” you spat out, even if the close proximity was making you doubt that.
“No you don’t.” His voice was softer, a hand coming to tilt your face up to him.
“I do.” You didn’t sound like you believed it. Especially not as he leaned down closer to you, lips centimeters from yours.
“Is that so?” He teased, eyes dark. Your breathing was heavy, overwhelmed by him.
“Just kiss me already.” The words were scarcely out of your mouth before his lips slotted over yours, his other arm wrapping tight around your waist. You sighed into the kiss, opening your mouth to his. Cassians teeth bit over your bottom lip, a pleased chuckle at the sound you made.
“I’ve been thinking about this ever since I helped you stretch that first day,” he whispered, pulling away to kiss down your neck. “When you made that moan, I knew I needed you.” He pulled the same sound from you now, biting the sensitive skin under your ear. His hand tightened on your waist, a low growl sending heat through you. “You will be the death of me.”
His lips came back to yours, kissing you hard. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held him tight, enjoying the feeling of him pressed up against you. “Cass,” you murmured, body going still. You looked up into his expression of shock that you were certain mirrored your own. “Cass?” A sudden fear rose through you, worry that he didn’t want a bond. Not with you. Was he going to reject it, was he going to reject you, where would you go, what would you do-
Your panicked thoughts were interrupted by him kissing you again. “My mate,” he said, kissing you again and again. You smiled into his kisses, holding tight to him. And you felt it.
As long as Cassian was yours, you would be safe.
***
First of all, thank you so much for your comment about Rejected <3. I love that one and i’m so happy you do too! Second of all, I am SO SORRY this took me so long to do!!! I hope it lived up to what you wanted ❤️ Thank you so much for being patient with me and for requesting this!
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loviatarsluv · 3 months
Note
hey there! I saw your post about asking for little blurb requests :) what about one where they’re bathing in the river?
hiiii omg okay so since you didn't specify which character, i'll just pick one hehe this is one of my fav "tropes" i guess if you wanna call it that so i was pumped for this one!!
so sorry for the late post, I took my time w this one bc I love romantic soft fluffy gale stuff ♡︎
Gale x AFAB f!tav / AFAB f!reader
rating: mature (fluff and really romantic sweet smut^.^)
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It had been at least a tenday since the last time you or any of your companions had been afforded the luxury of a bath, having been on the road and traveling the road to Baldur's Gate for days and not coming across a single stream or lake somehow.
You’d been craving a thorough bath since the battle with Ketheric Thorm and the rest of the cultists at Moonrise Towers - you swore you’d never be able to get all the blood and grime out of your hair at this rate. It started to affect your functioning and already completely erratic sleep schedule, as all you could think about was the blood under your nails and the layer of grime and dried viscera on your skin.
Not to mention, you’d barely been able to be physically affectionate with Gale without disgusting yourself. That alone was making it nearly impossible to think straight.
He insisted that it was fine and that he didn’t mind, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to want to do anything intimate in this state. This was far beyond just having not bathed for a few days and having a natural musk (which Gale has made very clear that he very much enjoyed) - and you were nearly at your wits end.
So naturally, when Halsin notified the group that he found a river that flowed into a small lake while he was hunting in wild shape, you were the first to claim first turn bathing. The group all groaned in protest - particularly Astarion who’d been just as, if not more perturbed about his begrimed state and stained clothes - everyone else longing to have a moment of reprieve and refresh before whatever awaited you in Baldur’s Gate.
There was a resounding sigh and eyeroll (apart from Halsin) from the group as Gale offered to accompany you, after Halsin suggested bathing in pairs for safety purposes. Your companions had not been exactly quiet about their annoyance toward you and Gale’s blatant displays of affection since your night together under the stars in the Shadow Cursed Lands - you and Gale joked with each other that they were all likely just jealous and pent up, so to speak.
You were the first to slink off toward the river, barely able to contain your excitement towards finally feeling clean again. Gale ran to his tent to grab the lavender soap he found while exploring that he’d been saving for himself (and you) as well as a couple of cloth towels that he washed and asked Astarion to sew up the tatters and tears in.
You essentially stripped yourself almost entirely bare before even getting close to the water’s edge, leaving a trail of garments and belts and boots behind you as you ambled up to the shore.
The air was crisp and the breeze was comfortably cool, the reflection of the moon shone and shimmered across the water surface. It almost felt unreal, like it was a mirage after one too many days without fresh drinking water. The only way you were able to confirm that you weren’t dreaming was by wading into the placid waves and laying back, allowing yourself to float.
You let out a breath that it felt like you’d been holding for days and closed your eyes, your body gently drifting as you lazily moved your arms and legs with no destination in mind. This was the most relaxed you’d been in months (and probably would be for the foreseeable future), and you intended on enjoying every second.
Gale finally approaches the shore, nearly dropping everything in his hands when he catches sight of you peacefully floating on your back, your bare skin pebbling and glistening in the pale moonlight. His gaze trains on your breasts, your nipples peaked from the cool breeze hitting your wet skin. He’d been missing your body and being close to you terribly since the last time the two of you had been intimate, and just the sight of you this way was almost too much for his heart (and loins) to bear.
He wades out into the water to join you, soap in hand. You only notice his presence by the overwhelming scent of lavender filling your senses. Your eyes slowly open, and your jaw nearly drops.
Just as he’d been transfixed by your body, you found yourself sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of his - water up to his waist, hair tied back in a half updo with small strands falling over his face, the blue reflection of the water shining on his chest and skin. He was easily one of the most beautiful people you’d ever seen, and you thanked whatever gods you could every morning that you woke up beside him.
“You are so beautiful,” He smiles, bringing his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you close to his chest. “Even I’m finding it hard to conjure the proper words to describe your beauty.”
You giggle, pressing your face against his chest and listening to his slightly hastened heartbeat.
“To render the great Gale of Waterdeep speechless is a feat not many have accomplished, it's an honor.”
He chuckles lightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He begins to rub gentle circles on your back with the bar of soap, and you feel all the stress you’d been holding on to slowly release, if only just for tonight.
“Yet you manage to make it a regular occurance,” he hums, bringing his free hand up to caress your jaw.
A peaceful and comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you listen to the songs of the night - the sound of the water as it kisses the edge of the shore, the breeze through the trees and surrounding grass, the chirping and singing of whatever nocturnal creatures lurked nearby as they begun their day. You listen to his soft breathing and his heart as it thrums steadily in his chest, and the way he hums and sighs when you pepper delicate kisses around his shoulders, chest, and neck.
He migrates the soap to your arms, cradling your hand in his when he holds them up to thoroughly coat you and massage the dirt and grime from your skin. He takes his time, not a single inch of you left uncared for. He brings his hands to cup your breasts, smoothing bubbles over them and lightly pinching their peaks, eliciting a moan from you and instantly sending heat straight to your core.
To your slight dismay, he moves on, continuing his prior ministrations by rubbing the soap across your belly, then pressing a reassuring kiss to your lips when he notices your smile falter at his attention being directed there. His eyes meet yours, full of nothing but pure adoration - he thinks the world, the moon, and all of the stars of you, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t show you that at every opportunity. He believes he’s found heaven within you, your body being a perfect vessel worthy of pious devotion.
“Doing okay, my love?” He asks, breaking away from the kiss.
You nod, breath hitching as you feel your heart pounding against your ribs. “Okay is an understatement.”
He smiles widely, pleased to know that you were enjoying yourself. He knew that the last few days had been particularly hard on you and all he wanted was to see you finally relax - you deserve nothing less.
“I’ve missed you deeply.” He sighs, leaning his head onto your shoulder and kissing it, the rough texture of his beard tickles you when he does.
“We’ve slept together every night for weeks now, darling,” You giggle. “But I know, I’ve missed you, too. It's nice not to be repulsed by my own skin for a change.”
You reach for his hand that held the soap, only for him to move it away from your grasp. “Ah ah, I’m not quite finished.”
A deep red blush creeps to your cheeks as you quickly catch on to what he’s referring to, the heat that had slowly been coiling in your gut starting to burn ever hotter. You clench your thighs together on pure reflex, your body chasing any sort of friction to soothe the ache that had begun between your legs.
He notices and tenderly pushes his hand between your legs to part your thighs, pressing a longer and more meaningful kiss to your lips while lazily stroking the inside of your thigh with two fingers.
“May I?” He asks, stopping his fingers just at the top of your thigh.
You nod fervently, your eyes full of desperation.
He doesn’t leave you wanting for long, his deft fingers moving to gently massage your folds for just a brief moment before replacing them with the bar of soap. The feeling of the soap versus his fingers is like comparing a pebble to gold.
Gale was a fast learner, and in the few weeks since the two of you had become intimate with each other, he had become a consummate expert when it came to your body. He learned every little maneuver that would have you a moaning and whimpering wreck. You’d never been with a lover that managed to make foreplay nearly as pleasurable, sometimes even more, than actual sex. You’d also never been with a lover quite as generous as Gale - sometimes it even seemed he enjoyed pleasuring you more than anything else, as he’d spend hours with his head between your thighs without a single complaint.
So to only get a brief taste of what you knew was exactly what you needed, was torture.
You whine when he moves his fingers away, jutting out your bottom lip into a pout.
“I know, love. Just be patient a little longer for me,” He coos, caressing your cheek in an attempt to soothe you while he finishes cleaning you.
You contain yourself for the time being - resorting to holding your breath and clutching on to his shoulder for dear life, trying your best to be patient, because you knew that he was well worth the wait.
He finally finishes, brushing against your aching and throbbing sex with the soap one last time for good measure, then hands it to you.
“Thank you,” you breathe, your shoulders sinking as you release the air you’d been holding for a little too long as you’d started to feel lightheaded. “For taking care of me.”
“Thank you for allowing me to.” He says simply. Ever the gentleman.
He pulls you in for a passionate kiss, his hands resting on your lower back at the crest of your ass cheeks, your hands tangling into his chestnut and silver streaked locks. You let one hand rest on the nape of his neck, holding him to you to extend the kiss as long as you can, wishing you could just stay this way for the rest of your life.
When the kiss finally breaks, you motion for him to turn around so that you can lather his back. He slowly turns, seemingly reluctant to take his eyes off of you.
You’ve seen Gale naked plenty of times now, but you hadn’t realized how rarely you’d seen his bare back. And seeing it this way - wet and glistening under the silvery light of the moon, flexing as he adjusts so you can reach his shoulders properly - it was mouthwatering. There wasn’t a single part of his body that you hadn’t found yourself in awe of.
Once you lather his back fully, he turns to face you once more, his once content gaze now full of unbridled desire. Your breath catches, but still you try to continue and massage the soap onto his chest, then his stomach, letting your fingertips graze the dark trail of hair as your hand moves down.
His hand travels down to your sex once again, this time, fully intentional with his movements as he presses his fingertips to the sensitive bud. Your body jolts involuntarily in response, a gasp escaping your lips. He hums, slowly massaging along your folds, his finger edging just at your entrance but not dipping in. You try to maintain, rubbing circles of soap into the same spot for too long before you notice and move on to a different area. He grins widely, now seeing this as a game - a game he intended to win.
He leans his face forward to press a wet kiss to your jaw, leaving enough space between your bodies so you can continue to lather him. Your arm stills for a moment, your mind starting to go blank with every swipe against your throbbing cunt and his tongue brushing against your neck.
You’re trying your damnedest to keep strong, determined to ensure that he receives the same amount of care that he’d shown you, but he seems equally as determined to distract you from your efforts.
A loud moan tumbles from your lips as his finger gently pushes into you, your hips bucking against him, causing his palm to rub against your clit. He grunts, his hardened cock pressing into your hip as he lurches forward for a better vantage point to plunge his finger into you deeper and deeper.
Your hand flies to grasp his length, gripping slightly tighter than you normally would as he adds a second finger, your hand clenching tightly onto him in response. He sucks a breath through his teeth, a low rumbling in his chest that almost resembles a growl following it. You pump his cock in tandem with him pistoning his fingers in and out of you, the sound of the water splashing with your movements mixing with each of your moans and heavy panting.
You feel yourself creeping up on the edge, your orgasm imminent if he keeps up this pace. He can tell that you’re close by the way your walls clench around his fingers. You quicken the rhythm you were stroking his cock at, his hips jutting forward into your hand.
“Wait, wait,” he breathes, placing his hand over yours to stop you. “If you keep that up, I won't last much longer.”
You bite your lip, peering up at him through your lashes. “I want to make you come.”
His eyes widen slightly, his chest heaving. “Not like this. I need to have you, my love.”
You feel your walls clench around his fingers again just at his words, now desperately wishing it was his cock instead.
“Please,” you whimper, pulling his body closer so that your chest presses flush against his, his hand still between you, fingers still gently curling and thrusting into you.
“I want you to come first, love. Can you do that for me?” He purrs, his voice barely above a whisper.
His words alone push you right back up to the edge of the peak, your legs start to tremble and your fingers dig into his shoulders for support while you feel your body becoming mush from his touch. You roll your hips into his hand erratically, your hips stuttering as you get closer and closer, your vision turning white.
“That’s it, that’s my girl.”
Your head falls back and you cry his name over and over as you finally reach the peak, tumbling over the edge into free fall. His hand cradles the back of your head, his thumb gently stroking the side of your neck to coax you through your orgasm. You feel your entire body shake as you come down, and you thank the gods that you were waist deep in water otherwise you might’ve collapsed into a puddle on the floor. Not that Gale would let you fall, likely he’d scoop you up in his arms and carry you to bed before you could.
Your head slumps forward once again, resting against his shoulder as you try to catch your breath. You bring your hand up to trace the circular marking of the orb in the center of his chest, fingertips tracing the dark lines that trail out of it, stretching all the way to his eye. His eyes flutter closed at your gentle caresses, and he presses his lips to your forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back.
“If I could only live within a single moment for eternity, I think I’d choose this moment with you under the moon’s gaze.”
His brown eyes meet yours, almost seeming to sparkle as he speaks, every single word wrapping around you and enveloping you in a warmth that you thought only the sun could provide.
Gale was the sun. He was the rain after a drought. He was the forgiving breeze on a scorching hot day.
“I love you.” Is all you can manage to say, unable to form the proper words to express to him how truly and utterly besotted you were.
Your lips collide once again, and you hope that the kiss tells him everything you couldn’t with words. This was the kind of kiss that people go to war for, the kind of kiss you’d die to experience just once.
His hands greedily roam your body, claiming each inch of it as his with just a touch of his fingertips. His hands move to cup your ass cheeks, lifting you and wrapping your legs around his waist. You feel his hand reach under you to take hold of his cock, preparing it for you. You snake your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling into the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging slightly so he tilts his head back. Your lips and teeth waste no time finding his sweet spot, surely leaving marks that will be there in the morning. You taste a mixture of the soap, the lake water, and the natural saltiness of his skin. He whimpers slightly when you bite just a little harder, with more intent.
Unable to hold back a second longer, he lines the swollen head of his cock up at your entrance, waves of electricity shooting through you when you feel him slowly start to slip in.
You almost swear it’d hurt less if he just slammed home - the way you were throbbing and aching for him was nearly unbearable.
But Gale has never been hasty. He takes his time, he calculates his every move, he’s deliberate.
You’ve had sex with Gale several times now at this point, but every time your body still has to adjust to him, and he’s aware of that. He moves slowly not only for your comfort, but also so that he’s able to savor every inch of you as he buries himself into your warmth.
“I don’t think I’ll ever tire of this,” he breathes, his grip on your ass tightening as he finally bottoms out, the head hitting just the right spot.
“Gods, I hope not,” is all you’re able to choke out before he begins a torturously slow rhythm with his thrusts, every inch of him stroking your still sensitive walls from your prior orgasm.
Your legs tighten around his waist as you cling onto him for dear life, and the rest of the world fades away. There’s no tadpoles, no Absolute, no cultists — there’s only the two of you wrapped in each other's embrace, and the moment feels infinite.
His hand tangles into your still dripping wet hair, droplets flinging from it onto your back as he fists it, sending goosebumps racing across your flesh. He breathes heavily, murmuring random assortments of curses and your name under his breath as his pace picks up ever so slightly, his conviction to take it slowly, faltering.
You feel yourself approaching the brink again as he speeds up.
“Gale, please, I’m—“
“I know, my love, me too.” He moans, now slamming into you with a reckless abandon, all control he’d had previously now washed away with the tide and your pleading.
He finishes with one last stuttering plunge into you, the warm sensation of his spend flooding you and his cock throbbing sending you over the edge along with him. He stays in you while you both come down, chests heaving and hearts racing.
“I love you, too. With every beat of my heart.” He says after a long and comfortable silence, pushing a loose strand of hair out of your eyes.
You stay there for a few minutes longer, embracing, kissing, joking about pruney fingers and how much shit your companions were going to give you when you returned.
When you both emerge from the water, Gale grabs one of the towels and wraps it around your body first, rubbing your arms to warm you as a shiver passes through you. He presses a kiss to the side of your head, then wraps the other towel around his waist. You gawk at him for a moment, and you think you could easily go for a round two if you weren’t entirely drained from the day prior to your bath… activities.
As you walk back to camp hand in hand with him, a true and genuine smile plastered on your face that you weren’t sure you’d ever smiled before, you feel a sort of selfish gratefulness. You feel as though the cosmos aligned just perfectly to drop him into your life, even amidst absolute mayhem and turmoil. Even if nothing came of the months spent adventuring and battling cultists and searching for cures, you still had this - you had him. And he, you.
And you think to yourself - even if you died tonight, you’d die happily knowing you got to spend a moment under the warmth of his sun.
————
god I love gale so much
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cupcraft · 8 months
Text
Ranboo rebrand stream important stuff in one single post!:
if anything i missed pls rb and add on!
chat etiquette! They are going to be more strict with this (but not for new chatters honest mistakes).
Ban 101 -> the number 1 rule:
racism, antisemitism, homophobia, transphobia, discrimination. Instant ban, no excuse. Even bigoted jokes! 0 tolerance! you will be banned from even viewing the streams. This even counts on doing it on other streamer's chats/platforms if found out!
More rules: be funny (please!) and chill and kind and use emotes (including BTTV), dont spam chat (will be fixed/enforced bc of past issues),
other tidbits/news:
the vtuber/stuff will evolve over time, there are different vtuber outfits/costumes planned (ex they have an mcc outfit already!), the room in the background will change, they will be reaching out to ppl for collabs (feel free to recommend people but do not spam their chats!), planning to do more irl streams (will be weird/experimental and they will go wild! They will be making weird stuff!), they also have plans that they are excited to tell and its been a long time coming (this may be the cake video but i couldnt tell in stream), ranboo bakes a cake 2 will be coming TOMORROW on youtube (23 mins and incredible! they laughed at themself), ranboo plans to do experimental stuff on youtube (they have gotten into film lately!), founder's cut of gen 1 of genloss will be coming out 2-3 months ?? date/end of year, the vtuber ranjacket will be a part of the merch drop prototype at vidcon (physical jacket!), will be doing competitive/events with people (like organized little thing) (content/what it is undetermined) and he wants it to be obscure and random, ranboowaslive will start to ramp up a bit (more clips/compilations to come esp if you dont enjoy long vod watching), ranboo will be eating a nintendo DS cartridge live on stream (a joke!), MORE SURPRISES KEPT AS A SECRET + tiny plans in the works, they are moving into the new place/still have boxes to unpack (vtuber lore), he may finish the last of us part 2, subathon (really like back to back fun streams/long streams/playthrough of long games like omori) in january probably, splatoon may return,
What does the new era mean/qna stuff?
talking about old content is fine as long as you recognize that it is the PAST and not the kind of content ranboo makes now. Do not "put them back in the box".
Vtuber: will not be used all the time. They will do facecam streams too. Depends on how he feels.
why the r800: the 8 looks like a b LMAO
this is just the start of rebrand. He will re-establish a lot, things will be easier to find/reorganized, slowly over the weeks things will be changing.
what will happen tothe alt twitter (ranaltboo)?: new pfp, same energy (see below my shitty sc). art creds to mochi!
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not only just a rebrand for him and the look of the content. But also it is a rebrand of how they act around and view their own content. they may not be as in the community as he has been (liking fanart/in chat/etc.) out of recommendation from people! If ranboo needs to be aware of something THEY HAVE PEOPLE to make him aware of important issues/emergencies and they will be focusing more on themself and the content overall. they are thankful to be allowed to do this, as they dont want to keep seeing things they dont want to see/have that anxiety. Less scrolling = more content!
They will probably have longer streams again!
will move to more mature jokes/phrases and may have content labels on the streams. Overall, streams will be pg-13 mostly.
TITS stands for twitch integrated throwing system [insert ranboo's giggle here]
All proceeds donated to ranboo's channel only go to charity! Not to them at all! They have a list of charities that he supports and will be changed 1-3 months at a time like usual!
Please make stuff. This is how he gets ppl who edit and the emote makers/artists. Not forced. Just encouraging ppl who make stuff to make stuff and he appreciates it and loves it! Even if it is not about him just make it! AND SUPPORT ARTISTS BOOBERS!
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twilghtkoo · 1 year
Text
late night soju chat
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summary. in which, haechan has been coming home late the past few days because of work and you’ve been up every time he returns.
pairings. haechan x streamer!reader (f)
genre. fluff, established relationship, idol!au
warnings. reader is drinking (legal), i also do not know the gaming/streaming lingo that well so (・_・;
“oh yeah! i’m really excited for the legend of zelda tears of the kingdom.. the sequel to breath of the wild.” you answer to the viewer who commented asking if you preordered the game yet. “i did get the collectors edition though, first, i thought i shouldn’t, but i ended up getting it.” you take another shot of soju easily, the liquid going down your throat as you tilted your head back in a quick motion.
user omg yes the inclusions are so pretty!!
user i’d get it just for the art book cus link &lt;3
the digital clock by your monitor reads 2:15. the chat already pointed out how they can tell you’re tired, but you told them you can manage and wait.
“chat, strawberry soju and the strawberry milkis is so dangerous. it literally tastes like a fruit punch or the pink starburst.” you exclaim, finishing pouring a bit of the flavored milk and yogurt drink into the shot of the soju.
user don’t drink sm!!
user soju is so good oml
you scoff, “guys this is like my third one, don’t worry!” you attempt to assure the chat. you’ve done a few streams drunk, and thankfully those times you were under the influence, your boyfriend was watching and about two doors down. one time you fell asleep on your chair, and you fell asleep for a good fifteen minutes til haechan came to the rescue and ended the stream for you.
user where’s haechan when we need him
user i’m so tired lmao
user when are u dropping merch
“haechan should be on his way home,” you reply to your screen. “he’s gonna be super tired so i’ll end it when he gets here.” haechan’s schedule has been hectic these past few days, leaving in the early mornings and coming home late at night. he’s told you that you don’t have to wait up for him and to go ahead and sleep, not wanting you to stay up for him. but you barely see him throughout the day, so you’d like to greet him when he walks through your door. finally, kissing his lips and hugging him tightly, rubbing his tense muscles.
you're looking through the art book and showing chat a few pages that had you squealing. a game that you've been playing since you were a child, it was definitely your number one favorite and you're glad your followers are finding interest and are even up at this hour with you.
user i can't believe nintendo sent this to u early D: that's such a big thing yn im so happy for u!!!!
you smile after taking another shot. "thank you user, i know, when i saw the big ass box in my mail i was over the fucking moon. and i was holding myself back from opening it as soon as i got it, but i decided to wait and open it with you guys." you told your viewers honestly, preparing another shot.
user oh i can't wait for ur tears of the kingdom gameplay !!
user aye lemme get a sip
"user thank you for the 1,000 bits!"
your house was pretty quiet, of course, at this hour of the night. but past your headphones you heard rustling from outside your streaming room door. you moved your headphone off one ear to listen in.
you slightly gasped into your mic, with a grin. "chat i think haechan just got hoooome!" you took the shot that you had prepared earlier.
"this is so good," you hummed quietly.
user haechan is hoooome
user my fav couple <3
"haechan? baby?" you called out.
you hear a few sounds going off in your headphone, mostly being subs and cheers asking about haechan and some about you.
"yn? babe, you're still up?" you hear haechan from the hallway and his footsteps coming closer, he knocks on your door before peeking his head through the cracked door.
"hello handsome, i missed you." you greeted him from your gaming chair, holding out your arms for him to walk into them so you could embrace him. he drops his leather bag by the door and immediately takes the steps to you with a tired smile. he was dressed in the same clothes he was in when he left in the early morning.
he groans softly in your hold, you squeeze his frame and rub his back soothingly, trying to offer as much relief from his tiring day.
user haechan!!!
user YOOOO
user aww look at them :(
he acknowledges that you are streaming but he doesn't hold back on showing you affection. he nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. "i told you you don't have to wait up for me."
you continue to softly rub his back, "i know, but i wanted to to see you."
"are you still gonna stream?" he has a feeling you won't and that you'll turn it off and go to bed with him.
you shake your head, pulling away from the hug you look up at him.
"no, i just turned it on a few hours ago and decided to just chat with my followers until you got home, i'm about to end the stream now." you tell him and glance over at the screen to keep up with the comments.
user hi haechan
user haechan we tried to tell her
user we were baysitting for u
user HAECHAN SAY HI
he looks at your desk set up. "damn, baby. drinking on the clock? that's why your cheeks are a bit rosy." he teases, pointing at the almost empty bottle of soju, his other free hand holding yours.
you shrug, "i was thirsty."
you giggled, "chat says hi, say hi back to chat." you continued, pointing at the flowing of comments.
the top half of his face was cut off by the camera since he was pretty tall and he was standing, he crouches down a bit and waves at the cam.
"hi everyone, thank you for watching yn and thank you everyone for staying up with her."
you smile at him interacting with your viewers before starting to poke his sides. "can i get a kiss first and then i'm going to turn this off."
he effortlessly cups the side of your face gently and leans in to press his lips against yours, his thumb caressing the soft skin of your rosy cheeks and he pulls away.
you wet your lips as you turn with your chair to focus on chat.
haechan is still standing beside you but he reaches for the soju bottle and easily gulps down the last of it before putting it back on the desk.
"okay guys, like i said earlier, i planned on ending this stream when haechan got home. so i'm going to go now, good night everyone and thank you for watching and staying up with me. bye!"
user goodnight yn and haechan!!
user aww goodnight
user goodnight
user night yn :)
he waves with you before the stream ends. he drags you out of your streaming room after you turned everything off properly, walking with you tiredly, hand in hand, to your shared bedroom. ready to sleep in all afternoon with you in his arms, because tomorrow he finally has a rest day. and he wants nothing more than to be with you.
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tadpolesonalgae · 11 months
Text
Demon! Azriel x reader: Teeth and Talons - Part 3[***]
A/N: you guys really shouldn’t be encouraging my monsterfucking habits but here we are. Also, sorry it’s late!
Summary: You get stolen away by one of his half siblings, and he nearly tips over the irredeemable edge. You’re running. He’s hunting.
Warnings: monsterfucking (yk), demon!azriel, kidnapping, gore/violence, blood, beast form!Azriel (no, you don’t fuck him like that), soft!Demon!az (in his own way)
-Part 2- -Part 4-
He doesn’t understand how he managed to lose you so effortlessly.
He’d been keeping you in his private chambers, locked far below ground. But then you’d started getting ideas in your head after the mating, ideas of your own independence being important. It set his ire blazing, the thought you would any sort of individuality to separate yourself from him. You belong to one another now.
Still, an unfamiliar part of him had granted your offending requests of freedom, returning you to the mortal worlds from time to time whenever you claimed to be struck down by a sickness for your previous housing. His lip curled whenever he thought of it.
He’d allowed you out, and you’d been snatched away. Ripped from his claws, leaving him wounded and tender. And furious. Black flame incarnate. The embodiment of wrath, his body sensing something fundamental having been torn from his inner energies. You.
He needs you back, or he might wither under the unyielding might of his rage.
————————
The marshy land squelches beneath your feet, the wet slap of your toes as they sink into the mud. Icy razor blades slice the soles of your feet as the cold bites into you. The skin is a raw pink, the swampy terrain containing little but festering small creatures that cannibalise one another for the sake of prolonging their pitiful but desperate lives.
The beasts dragging you along have no place in your heart, twisted with malevolent cruelty to the point of being unrecognisable. You can’t even begin to comprehend them, yet they continue stringing you through the bemired ground, no care for the burning pain that slices with every step.
Salty paths have long since dried on your grimy skin, wind whipping at your hair as it howls in the skies, thunderous. Rain lashes at your back, stinging in its persistence. A crack of lightening above has you jumping, stumbling as you fall into a stagnant bog of putrid smelling water. The creatures pay you no mind, continuing on their slouching way as your ankles are pulled out beneath you.
Your mouth opens to scream before you seal you lips as you’re dragged under, your weight sinking into the marsh. You thrash until your break the surface, gasping for air as you try to push the mud from your eyes. The best you can do is wait for the unkind rain to rinse your skin beneath it’s torrential rage.
How much further?
The question repeats in your mind until it’s a dull throb of pain, hair pulled out from under you as you slide through the muck, sludge caking your back. It becomes unbearable when you hit stable land, the cold ground biting at your skin, tearing at the thin robes you adorned before you were snatched away. Again.
The thunderous crack of lightening whips closer, more regular. A small part of you hopes it will somehow seek you out, strike you down where you lie, freeing you from the endless hurricane of events you seem to have been unsuspectingly caught in. Things were just beginning to look up for you and Azriel. He’d allowed you freedom you hadn’t been granted even in the mortal realms, the promise of safety, gifting you with the liberty to run wild in forests, bathe in streams without worry of prying eyes or snatching hands that wouldn’t listen to your cries of agony. How false those promises had been.
Perhaps he’d gotten bored of you.
He was a creature of hel, after all.
The wind beats down on your accepting features with all the force nature possesses. It harrows your skin, lashing at your cheeks, stinging your lips as the wind turns every strand of hair into cruel, half bitten whips, cracking against your tender skin with sharp, wet smacks.
And yet you couldn’t bring yourself to call him a beast. The things dragging you by your ankles were the monsters, though perhaps he was simply a master to the arts of deceit and mockery.
Sharp stones scrape against the raw flesh of your back, surely the same bitten-pink as your feet. Had he really, truly abandoned you? The side of your throat stings, your hands automatically flying to sense out the pain. The bite marks are pulsing, throbbing with a burning sensation, prickling at your bloodstream. Azriel.
Where are you?
You manage to crack your eyes open, gunk teeming at the edges where the rain couldn’t slither in. There’s a black spec in the sky, darker than the thunderous rain cloud. Lightening cracks, silhouetting the shadow.
You hiss as rocks drag against your should blades, splitting up your spine as they grind against the bone. Fresh tears spill as unceasing pain lances through your back, flaying your torso.
The shadow is larger - closer. It’s dropping, plummeting through the air, terrifying wings slicing through the atmosphere silently. Lethally precision in the set of it’s form. He’s a very quiet predator.
Your breath catches, choking on air as it clogs your lungs, tongue feeling rubbery against the walls of your throat. The words blurs but not from the sting of rain, neither the dark haze when your squint your eyes in desperation to shield from the wild onslaught of the elements trying to corrode your skin. Hot wetness warms paths along your skin, neck stinging as his glittering ire slices along that eldritch connection, zapping at your mind.
The utter fury blazing along the bond warms your from within, heart picking up to the beat of the wind that whips unforgivingly across the flat moor, fog rolling in thick, suffocating clusters, sprawling above the fen. Your lower lip trembles as he dives, swooping down, shadows wreathing him in unhallowed darkness.
He crashes into the beasts dragging your human body so carelessly across the boggy flatland, piercing screams tearing from their bodies as they’re crushed beneath his razed sharp claws. The Dæmon lands in a mess of splintering bones, dark blood spraying into the mud as jaws snap viciously, tearing at rough skin as their bodies are pulled apart.
“Azriel…” You’re disbelieving, finally coming to a stop on the biting floor. Power fills the air, frenetic static building, lightening cracking above. It’s his fury incarnate, imbuing the world with depthless wrath as it zaps across the wet fields. Beastly snarls rips from his chest.
You shakily push up, hardly able to move from the bludgeoning numbness. His wings are larger, the talons glittering at their peaks sharper. His arms and legs are transformed into crushing paws, decorated with slicing talons that could spear your entire body. His thick fur curls in the torrential downpour, changed from his bi-pedal form into moving as a predator would, enabling his lethal speed.
He’s hardly recognisable save for scar peaking through the matted hair on his corded throat, a matching pair to the bite marks on your own neck. There isn’t an ounce of hazel in his blacked out eyes, snout searching for life to rip into as he shoves it into the disembowelled stomach of one of the pitiful creatures that’d been crushed beneath his weight.
It happens under a second, one moment he’s a spec in the air and the next he stalks over the bloodied carcasses of the beasts that have been hauling your roughly through the dirt. The once firm land now withers beneath their weight, saturated with blood, their corpses sinking into the morass, swallowed by the land. Pickled.
“Azriel,” his name grates against your vocal chords. You know it’s him. He’s found you, he’s come to save you. Fresh tears wrack your body as shadows slither through the cloying fog, snapping the locks on your rubbed-raw angles as you pull them against your body.
You’re pushing forward on trembling limbs, onto your hands and knees as you crawl forward, rain washing away the grit from your excoriated skin. “Azriel,” you whimper, his body looking so warm and you know even with the wetness soaking his fur you’ll be shielded.
The metallic scent in the air evens out as he shifts into a more familiar form, his own features surfacing, sharp cheekbones splitting through his animalistic demeanour, the darkest shine of hazel breaking in his blacked out eyes. A snarling roar drags from his throat as his gaze settles on you, prowling forward.
The shifting halts, as if frozen. As if he’s struggling to return to his form. Black swallows his hazel as it’s sucked down, size doubling as he doesn’t transform back. His crushing paws sink into the marshland, wings flared wide as he stalks closer.
You still, suddenly scared. All over again.
Your name to scramble back but your abraded skin stings. You collapse back into the mud. “Azriel…” you rasp as he traps you beneath his titan-like body. A scream rips from your throat as his jaws drop open, fragments of bone falling out as they enclose over you.
You won’t even make a mouthful as the others had.
But his tongue unfurls, the wet muscle scooping you up tenderly, bringing you into the hall of his mouth as darkness writhes around the outside. A weightless sensation overcomes you as he rights himself, accompanied by the thunderous thump as leathery wings flare, shooting you into the sky as it’s blacked out.
It reeks of blood and flesh, but it’s warm. His tongue is soft, your weight sinking into the tough, slick skin, heating your bones as you melt into the cavern of his mouth. After the overpowering stench of the marsh, the scent of death isn’t that unbearable. Besides, you’re still caked in it, so you wonder who’s really got it worse as you lie on his tongue.
Fatigue weighs on your eyelids, the hotness of the muscle beneath you paired with the repetitive thump of his wings lulls you into needed sleep, darkness filling your vision as you melt into him, stiffness seeping from your bones.
————
You wake to the feeling of falling, your muscles screaming to tense as you slide from his tongue. Blinding light fills your vision, forcing your eyes to shut again. You’re plunged into a warm pool of water, the sensation oddly pleasant as you can already feel the mud being soothingly worn from your skin.
When you break the surface, you’re spluttering, hands trying to scrub your face free of muck. You dip back under, the water burning at your eyelids but it’s preferable to the gunk that’s caking your skin.
A powerful arm hooks beneath your own, lifting you effortlessly from the water, setting you on a submerged ledge that leaves the cleansing water lapping just above your collar bones. Something dry and slightly rough is pushed against your face. A towel, you realise, hands raising to scrub yourself off, to clean your eyes.
You take in your surroundings, limbs resting in the water as your strength completely drains. You’re in a warm coloured bathing area, the vast pool containing creamy looking water, thick bubbles lathering atop the surface.
Beside you, the pool shifts as Azriel settles down, shifting into a form you’re familiar with. Hazel returns to his eyes, colour dancing if you look deep enough. Your eyes trail to his mouth, noting the canines that protrude from his lips, tinted a dark red. Almost black.
He’s still far too big to be normal. You bet if you were stood beside him in his current state, his hips would line up with your rib cage. You look up at him with tired eyes, his own dark ones watching you silently. “Where were you?” You hear the break in your voice, the raspy crackle. Fresh tears fill your eyes, the events returning to you in all their blistering pain.
His brow narrows and for a moment you’re worried he’ll be angry, lock you back up in his room, take away the freedom you were afforded. But he’s brought your to this open space in favour of the washroom that connects to his chambers. Maybe it counts for something.
You grow scared when he doesn’t reply, only watching you. It feels like that’s all he’s doing. “Azriel,” you cry, softly, “where were you?” He remains silent, observing you keenly. Then, he reaches one taloned hand forward. You flinch back, water splashing as you push away from him. His lip curls at the action.
Azriel reaches again, shifting fully as his large hand wraps entirely around your legs, dragging you forward. He’s too strong for his own good, and you go under, water shoving itself into your eyes, stuffing itself into your mouth. You gasp when you’re lifted out, spluttering painfully. It’s only when he pushes the towel into your face again and your eyes are clear that you realise he’s set you between his legs.
Traitorous heat flushes your cheeks as you note his powerful arms are casually wrapped around your middle, keeping you against him. You want to be upset, angry even but all you can do is revel in the feeling of security he gives you. The press of skin against skin, solid warmth behind you. You’re pleasantly surprised by the soft brush of fur, made infinitely silkier beneath water. It’s so nice you lean back, making him grunt softly.
You stiffen. He’s completely bare. At least you still have your clothes on - dirty as they are. Initially, you’re shocked at the hard press against your lower back, then your realise he’s doing nothing to act on it. No attempts to lull you to sleep, no attempts to seduce you into jumping onto his cock. Just allowing you some peace and quiet, while keeping close by.
But you don’t want peace and quiet right now. You want to scream at him. You tip your head back, so it’s pressing against his chest - maybe your ass pushes against him a little - peering up into his dark eyes. “Back out there,” you begin, determined to get answers out of him, “my throat was stinging. Why?” He cocks his head, expression remaining blank, “your throat?” You don’t like the way he says it.
You swallow, and his eyes track the movement, following down to your chest, your nipples just hidden by the water’s surface. His hips shift behind you, legs widening - allowing you to slide against him, you realise. It’s probably pleasurable to him, you guess. Your head bobs in confirmation as you tilt your head to the side, fingers dancing over where you had felt the pain.
His pupils dilate as he takes in the expanse of your throat, the bite marks. His bite marks. His upper lip twitches, wanting to pull back from his canines in order to refresh the scars. Drink from you. Hear your blood sing for him. It doesn’t help, the way your lower back is pressing tight against him. He’d half hoped you would accept his invitation, when he’d widened the stance of his legs to allow you closer.
Azriel’s mind shudders as you shift between his thighs, lips parting to speak, “the marks. They stung.” That’s all you’re giving him. His claws twitch with the need to touch you, to feel that you’re returned to him. A grin lifts the edges of his mouth, “you were waiting for me to come find you.”
He revels in the way tell-tale warmth flushes your cheeks. You keep your gaze on his, embers slowly heating in your irises as you come back to life. “I had no such thoughts. I was convinced you were the one who had me—” you cut yourself off. It’s far too soon for you to repeat the burning pain you felt, even through memories. You swallow, forcing down emotion, “I thought you were trying to get rid of me,” you mumble, your head lowering, breaking the connection, “I thought I’d spent my use.”
You tense as his arms wind tighter around your waist, feeling as he leans over you, front pressing to your back. Cock pressing to your— You swallow. “And that made you unhappy,” he taunts, quietly beside your ear. Awareness lights your skin as his claws wrap around you, so sharp. “You didn’t like the idea of me losing interest in you,” he drawls, the tip of one razor-like talon slipping beneath the hem of your clothing. You grit your teeth, squeezing your thighs together, in attempt to make yourself smaller, shying away from his touch. “None of my kind - as you so affectionately tend to stress - would revel in abandonment. It means nothing about you.”
Your back cools as he leans against the marble edge of the bathing pool that’s large enough to easily contain a few squadrons of creatures like him. He laughs, darkly, hips shifting so he’s pressing into you from behind, “remember the night we mated?” He drawls, watching as tension lines your small body. “I told you in no uncertain terms, should you continue, you would not deny me,” he taunts, “you’d accept the joining, the breeding.” The talon slices up the inside of your clothes, splitting them in two, making it easy for him to slide them from your torso.
You gasp in shock, legs folding over one another as you frantically try to cover yourself. But his hands have dropped to your hips and you squeal as he lifts you from his lap, turning you to face him. Your cheeks flush hot as you’re torn between covering your breasts and trying to shove him off you. He has no right to hold you in such an objectifying way.
Seeing no point in attempting to push him off you, your arms wrap across your chest defensively. He raises a single brow as your hips wiggle, trying to slide from his grasp. “Let me go,” you demand softly, through your embarrassment. His mouth lifts into a mocking grin, “what will you do for me if I follow that request?”
Your lips drop open as you’re rendered speechless. He hums deep in his throat, a smug glint dancing in his eyes. Anger burns in the pit of your stomach, all the overwhelming emotions that had been tearing through you for the past few hours manifesting as seething fury, “you—” Roughly, he pulls you down into his lap, your thighs spreading as he pulls you tight against his front, breasts against his powerful chest, lower abdomen squeezing against his cock, the soft fur brushing invitingly against your stomach.
“What you need,” he drawls once your seated, forcing your head to crane upward to see him, “is a good fucking.” Your mouth drops open as his hips buck gently against your own, and you feel the mocking promise he’s giving you. You want to smack him, to scream at him. Why does he lack such a basic understanding of human emotion?
His hands have loosened around your hips, allowing you to push up from his lap, standing on weakened legs, somehow managing to keep your balance. He only laughs, shadows twining beneath your skirts and up your thighs as he keeps you where you are, “and where do you think you’re going?”
Rage gives way to despair, tears rolling down your cheeks as you tremble in his grip, “fine,” you snap, lip wobbling as you try to push his hands away. Your slim fingers catch on his claws, the razor like blades slicing into you, blood dripping into the pool. His eyes widen marginally with anger as he watches it, scents your blood on his talons. “What are you doing?” He snarls, furious with you for being so careless of your delicate human body.
But you don’t reply, you’ve already settled your thighs either side of him, hand guiding his cock to your entrance. More tears roll as you push yourself down into his lap, burning pain screaming in your abdomen. You look up at him, anguish clear in your eyes, “this is what you wanted, right?” You cry, the stinging only worsening, “so hurry up and get it over with, you beast. Fuck me. Breed me. Whatever it is you so need to do to me.” You’re hitting your fist weakly on his chest as his hands hurriedly move to your hips, so careful not to nick at your skin. “Just get it over with.”
He’s panicked, unaccustomed to the foreign feeling of tension in his throat, heart pounding as he lifts you off his lap. “Don’t,” he snarls at you, anger coating his words as his eyes flick to your hands, bleeding steadily. He shifts into the form he’d been in when you’d met in the forest, claws shrinking into nails, fur disappearing entirely as he frame smallens. “Stop hurting yourself,” he growls, pushing you away from him slightly, panicked eyes flicking between your hands and teary eyes. It’s disarming seeing you like this.
“You wanted it!” You cry back at him, shoulders hunching over as you move to bring your bloody hands to wipe away the tears. He grabs your wrists firmly, jerking them away from your face as he glared at you. “Calm. Down.” Something snaps inside of you. You thrash in his hold, violently writhing, sending water spraying into his eyes.
“Fuck off, Azriel! My back is in pieces, I’ve been dragged for hours across a freezing wasteland, you’ve— you keep doing this. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” You can feel your throat tearing as you scream the words, hot paths of water cascading down your cheeks heavily. You want to claw at him, want to punch him, rip his skin from his body with your teeth. He’s unfairly strong. You know you can’t do anything. Meanwhile he can restrain you without even touching you.
You don’t even notice as his hands release your wrists. You fall forward into his chest, sobbing as you slam your fist over his heart over and over, pounding on his cage as if it’ll open up for you if you knock loud enough. “I hate you, I hate you so much!” You collapse against him, sobs still wracking your body.
It’s as though you’re bathing in hot milk and honey, the warm water licking at your wounds, numbing their pain. He’s warm beneath your fingertips, solid warmth beneath your fists. Unshakeable. It’s so unfair. Why can’t you be like him? Why don’t you get to have skin seemingly made of the thickest leather, talons that’ll slice should anyone get too close? You sob harder, tears dropping to the pool. Why are you so weak?
His arms wind around you, almost gingerly. His hands span your shoulders, tucking you against his chest as his shadows skitter across your back, soothing coolness blanketing your skin. You sniff, peering up at him. You almost regret it. His eyes are hard, cold. Glittering malevolence sprawling in their depths. More tears roll as the spark in your chest douses itself. It’s clear he has no attachment to you, only having saved you because you’ve been mated and bred.
Then you freeze.
His hands pull away from you, one wrapping around your wrist as he lifts it to his mouth. His eyelids flutter almost imperceptibly as he uses his thumb to separate your fingers. It’s almost tender as his lips part, licking up the blood that’s ebbing from your slim digits, trailing up to the small cuts. You hiss instinctively, expecting pain, but instead you only feel a vague tingle. It’s kind of nice, actually.
Azriel’s tongue laps over each of your cuts, sealing them so there isn’t even a mark left in their place. When he’s finished, he doesn’t release your wrist. Instead he guides your hands to splay across his shoulders, forehead pressing against your own. “Your back isn’t in pieces,” he murmurs over your mouth, making your brow furrow. You guess it isn’t stinging as it had been, but you had chalked that up to numb adrenaline.
“I know it is,” you snap softly, “I felt every sharp rock, every piece of gritty mud that abraded me.” His eyes lose their harsh cut, the edges mellowing every so slightly. “I carried you in my mouth,” he reminds, lips brushing over yours, making your hairs stand on end, “your back was on my tongue the whole flight. I could taste you.”
Heat flushes your cheeks as you pull back suddenly. His hands automatically tighten on you but relax when he sees you’re not attempting to escape. I could taste you. How can he say that with a straight face. And even after everything that’s happened, you’re left with a singular thought circling your mind. Did I taste good?
You don’t have a chance to foolishly voice the question as his hands lower to your hips, lifting you with him as he stands. Instinctively, your arms wrap over his shoulders and you hiss at the movement, a stinging feel coming from between your legs. He sets you down on the edge of the bathing pool, the cooks tiles pleasant against your thighs. “What— Azriel?” You question, confusion prominent in your tone.
Carefully, despite his now shortened nails, his hands press against your shoulders. The tips of his fingers dip beneath your sodden, still grimy clothes - now the only part of you that was dirty. Finally, your skin can properly breathe as he guides the wet fabric away from your tender skin, slowly stripping you down until you’re completely bare. His eyes drink you in, brow narrowing as he notices a few bruises - ones that are not from him.
His eyes settle on yours as he pushes your legs apart, gently. You resist, scared. You’re stinging, and you don’t want him to hurt you. “What are you doing, Azriel?” You ask, mouth trembling at the looming threat of pain. At this, his demeanour shifts, sending your fear. His hands moves to your waist, thumb brushing over your hip bone, “you’re hurting,” he replies, as if it’s answer.
“I don’t want you to fuck me again,” you manage, your words soft and small, scared he won’t listen. That he’ll inflict more damage upon your already battered body. His lips quirk at the edges, “I won’t.” Then he’s lowering himself into the water, until he’s between your thighs, spreading them.
Oh.
Oh.
Saliva contains healing properties.
Carefully, he lifts one leg over his broad shoulder, then the other. Even now, your muscles tremble slightly, remembering the rigour they’ve gone through. You brace for canines, but are instead rewarded by the gentle lap of his tongue. You could almost cry at the feeling as your cunt tingles, the feeling that was zipping through your fingers when he sealed the cuts.
Almost immediately, you feel better, his saliva coating your heat as his tongue heals you. There’s still a vaguely piercing sting coming from inside, but it’s bearable. You wince when you shift your leg, pain prickling beneath your abdomen.
Inadvertently, you meet his gaze and you know he saw the reaction. His brow narrows. Swallow your tongue and be surprised when you choke, he’d once muttered to you. And now you can’t shake the urge to tell him. It’s like a strange compulsion. And he keeps watching you, with those dark, knowing eyes.
“Azriel,” you whisper, scared. He stops, giving you his attention, something surfacing in his black eyes. “I—… It’s still hurting,” you mumble. “Where? I can heal it,” he reassures. The second you articulate that emotion, you freeze, brow tightening in confusion. You swallow, shifting then stilling as you ache. “Inside,” you mumble, barely managing the word, shame crawling beneath your skin.
A grin lifts his lips, and suddenly he’s pulling away from you. “Stay there,” he orders, gently, as power thrums in the air, that same frenetic static as before. His eyes lock onto yours as he begins shifting, “don’t run from me.”
Then his eyes are swallowed by pitch darkness, wings largening, fur lining his body as he grows. His talons return, as long as you are, longer. His hands shift into those paws that can so easily crush things your size as his features are swallowed by more animalistic ones, snout protruding.
Oh.
You suddenly understand why this bathing pool is so vast. It’s built to house him in any form, including this one.
You realise he’s halted his growth, keeping himself from filling the room as you’re sure he would should he completely transform into that beastly body. Instead it a vague in between. He’s probably triple your size, if not more. Maybe a quarter of his true form. You fight against the instinctive urge to run, remembering it’s him.
His pitch eyes drink you in, prowling forward, all the while not making a sound. You keep still, scared but not feeling in danger. It’s an odd combination. He stops in front of you, your back arching as you peer up at him. It takes a lot of will power to not look at what’s most likely directly in front of you.
“Azriel?” You whisper, unsurely. His eyes glint, and you recognise him. Even with his usual features twisted into a more animalistic light, your body recognises him as an integral part of yourself - not something to fear.
Shadows swirl at your body, lapping over your skin like waves. He moves forward, dipping down to be between your legs. You still, “what are you—” He cuts you off when his jaw opens, the wet muscle of his tongue rolling out. Your eyes snap open, lips parting in shock. The end is tapered, but thickens the closer it gets to his mouth. Oh gods.
“Azriel,” you stammer, “you’re not going to…?” He releases a puff of breath over you and you’re the most taken aback that you’ve been this evening. “Did you just laugh?” You inquire, disbelievingly. His eyes spark and you squeal when his tongue moves, dragging down your chest, over your perky nipples, settling between your legs. He huffs again at your surprise, and the tension leaves your body.
The tip of his tongue presses against your entrance, and you brace.
Your cheeks heat when he slides in, embarrassingly easily.
All your thoughts melt away as he fills you, saliva already working it’s powers as that pleasant tingling feeling blossoms across your lower abdomen. Your lips part and his shadows guide you back so you aren’t sat upright: reclining into the darkness.
Pure pleasure sings in your body as he starts moving, tongue pulsing inside of you as it slides gently in and out. Your back arches in response, hands cupping your breasts as sensitivity lights you up. His shadows don’t allow that, though. They twine gently around your wrists, replacing your hands as they flick at your nipples, refreshing cool, like a breeze on a hot summer day.
“Azriel…” you pant, peeking your eyes open. He’s already watching. Of course he is. Your toes curl, knowing he’s drinking in every second of your pleasure. You bite the inside of your lip as arousal coils in the pit of your stomach, already about set to spring free. “I’m—” you pant as he grazes a spot inside of you, mouth dropping open as you melt entirely into his shadows.
A growl of pleasure rumbles through his chest, and it feels so fucking good. Silver lines your eyes, flying closer and closer to that high. “Azzie,” you squeak softly, hardly a breath. A scream tears from you as he growls again, tongue vibrating inside you, the base of it pushing against your clit as you hit your peak.
Your back curves as the growls lose their harsh edge, softening as he feels you fluttering around him. He’s purring. His tongue retracts after the last aftershock has faded, shifting into his more recognisable form.
You don’t even think about it as you reach your hands out, making to grab at him. His brow narrows as he slowly prowls forward, “do you need something?” He asks softly, curiosity lying beneath the bland tone. “Come here,” you snap. His brow raises but for once, he obeys.
The second he’s in reach, your arms loop around his neck, tugging him into your chest as your legs circle his torso, locking around him tightly. You bury your nose in his hair, inhaling that scent that is so inherently him, so deliciously soothing. The feeling of his strong body encompassing you sends a shivering thrill humming through you, lighting you with incandescence.
You press kisses into his hair and his eyes widen, muscles locking up. He’s not sure what you’re doing. But he likes it. He likes feeling your soft skin beneath his cheek, having your thighs hugging his waist while your arms keep him tucked against you. He likes the feeling of your mouth pressing tenderly against him, repeatedly.
He decides it’s a good sign. A display of human affection.
Something tingles in his chest at the idea.
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cryptidghostgirl · 1 month
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A/N I have some requests in the chain above this one but wanted to post something that was a stand alone and not a part to another fic I wrote earlier because of how long I have been away. I promise the two requests lined up before this (pt 3 of till death do us part and pt 4 to cover up) will be out soon! Also, this request reminds me of Cinder by Marissa Meyer so there is some mild inspo from that in here (and loose quoting. sorry. I got carried away.).
What it Means to be a Person (Alastor x Cyborg!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Description: Y/n gave an arm and a leg to the fight against the exterminators and feels she has lost her humanity by the bionic replacements Lucifer and Charlie gifted her in return. Alastor reminds her that not all is lost, she can still dance, after all.
Warnings: Hurt//comfort. This might've ended up a little more angsty than intended and I kinda ran away with the prompt. Sorry about that.
Word Count: 2,246
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List 
Alastor Master List 
Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.
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“Imagine there was a cure, but it would cost you everything. What would you do?”
Y/n's question hung in the air of the dimly lit kitchen, echoing off the uncertainties late hours like this one always seemed to carry. Alastor froze where he stood by the stove, his hang halfway to the kettle whistling away upon it. He turned to face her where she sat at the far end of the rough hewn kitchen table, her head in her hands and her hair acting as a curtain, as a shield, hiding her face from view.
The meeting had been an accident. Alastor had found himself craving a cup of tea to accompany his late night preparations for tomorrows broadcast and when he had entered the kitchen, he had found her sitting there. Since the day Y/n had shown up at the hotel in all her bright and wild exuberance, Alastor had felt a connection with the girl. She was bubbly, a showman at heart with a soft spot for the macabre, how could he not automatically find a certain level of camaraderie with her? Everything had changed after the battle with Heaven a few weeks before.
Y/n had fought valiantly, using all her brains and brawn to protect the place she had come to call her home and the people she had discovered to be her family. The battle did not take her life, but she did give an arm and a leg to its hungry fervor. With Lucifer's help, Charlie had managed to get her an appointment with a well known doctor in Pentagram City. The man had given Y/n back her ability to stand, to reach for things, but had taken the mangled remains of her human form in the process. She had been brought back to square one, learning how to walk, to hold a pencil. She had been filled to the brim with wires that allowed her to control her new appendages.
The conversation had been an accident as well. Alastor hadn't meant to open the can of worms he was now sifting through. He had just spotted her sitting there, had casually asked how she was doing. Y/n was always so human, so much more human than he was capable of being. It was the only thing that had ever held him back from taking what he wanted, that wild and irrevocable humanity of hers.
"I would take the cure." Alastor replied after a moment, turning back to the stove and at last lifting the kettle, pouring the hot water into his favorite mug, "It would be better than the alternative."
With a decided intent in his step, he made his way over to her. The legs of the chair scraped dangerously across the floor as he pulled it out and took a seat beside her. Y/n looked up.
Alastor was shocked at what he saw. Y/n had been hiding since the battle, claiming that she was recuperating. No one had any reason to doubt her given the injuries she had sustained but now, Alastor was not so sure. Her eyes were sunken, dark circles dulling the pink of her cheeks. She was silver in the moonlight as it streamed through the window but she did not shine as she normally seemed to.
"I'm not human anymore."
Y/n's voice was cracked and raw, it only made him love her more. Out of all the creatures in Hell, she was the only one who would worry about such a thing, he was sure of it. Alastor had to stop himself from laughing, focusing on the heat of the cup held between his hands.
"You never were. You haven't been in a long time." he mused in response and Y/n sighed.
"I don't feel like a person anymore."
Again, another contradiction. Y/n was a demon, through and through. Not quite an overlord but powerful, well on her way to becoming one. There was nothing human about that in Alastor's eyes. The way he saw it, the moment a soul died they stopped being a person, no matter where in the afterlife they ended up. It was clear she would not agree. They had never talked of such matters before, it was an unexpected revelation. Alastor took a deep breath.
"Why?"
Y/n was silent, her eyes returning to the table as she traced the grains of the wood. It was unlike him, the concern, the curiosity for such an emotional matter. Alastor had long since given up on trying to make sense of the things she provoked in him. He tried again.
"How do you define being human? Is it what you look like? What you're made up of? Or is it who you are."
It was a clumsy attempt. There had been no need to provide comfort for a long time, not since Alastor had been alive. He was out of practice but, he supposed, caring for another was rather like riding a bike. Once you learned how it was done, you never really forgot.
"Who you are but..." Y/n's eyes met his once again, the conflict occuring behind them apparent.
She was unsheltered, the facade was gone. Alastor would consider himself close with the demon, closer perhaps than anyone else at the hotel but still, he had never seen her like this. His heart hurt.
"At the same time," she continued solemnly, "there is more to it than that."
"How do you define humanity?"
Y/n thought for a moment.
"Dancing. Spending time with friends, having people who care about you. Making meals together, reading books and poetry. Making art. Feeling one with the world around you, being a part of the earth we all come from."
Alastor held another laugh at bay. It wasn't out of the blue but, at the same time, there was something strange about hearing the words as they left her lips. He took a sip of his drink, the hot liquid worming its way down his throat and into his stomach.
"Doesn't the fact that you now find yourself to be inhuman at all show at least some of those?"
Y/n cocked her head to the side in confusion, her brow furrowing. Alastor sighed, leaning back in his chair.
"What I mean is that the reason you have those bionic limbs of yours at all is because you have people who care about you enough to get them for you and you cared enough about other people to give up what you originally had. If that isn't having people who care about you, spending time with friends, being one with the world around you, I don't know what is."
"But I am not of the earth any longer." Y/n ruefully replied.
"You are."
"How? I am naught but metal now. I traded steel for skin."
In the weakness of the night breeze, she seemed to slip into the skin she once wore. Flowery language, a posh, nearly transatlantic accent, shoulders straight and strong, all reminders of her upper class upbringing from so long ago. He could almost see her now as she must've been. It was a trick of the light.
"You were buried, right?"
Y/n nodded.
"I believe so. Beside my mother."
"Then you are forever of the earth."
"To the earth we must return," Y/n nodded after a moment in solemn agreement, "but I will never dance again."
Alastor had never even known it was something she had enjoyed. The time for questions was later, he got to his feet, his cup left abandoned on the table.
Alastor summoned his staff with a wave of his hand, leaning it against the sideboard as a soft song began playing from its speaker. Turning to Y/n once again, he offered her his hand. Y/n eyed it tentatively before reaching out her own to grab it.
With a shake of Alastor's head, she halted mid movement. He didn't need words to get his point across, Y/n just didn't like it. Lowering her hand, she raised the other. It was heavier, made from something other than flesh. There was an ungainly sense to the way she moved it. It didn't flow graceful through the air, it was too heavy for that. The metal of her fingers was cold and harsh against his palm as he helped her ineptly to her feet.
"Ella Fitzgerald." she mused softly, her eyes on his microphone.
"I didn't know you liked jazz."
Y/n's eyes met his once again and she gave him a half hearted smile.
"Growing up in the 1930s and being someone who held distaste towards jazz would have been an impossibility, wouldn't you agree?"
He had known she was alive sometime around the turn of the century but, that had been it. Alastor grinned from ear to ear at this subtle revelation.
"I knew there was a reason I liked you."
Letting go of her hand, Alastor took a step back. He bowed. Y/n couldn't help it, she laughed a little.
"What on earth are you doing?"
Alastor looked up at her, still bowing as their eyes met. Slowly, he straightened himself up, holding a hand out to her once again.
"Y/n, would you do me the absolute honor of sharing this dance?"
He had hoped his showmanship would make her smile, make her laugh even, the way it normally did. Instead, she withdrew her arms to her chest, taking a halting step backwards as she shook her head. Alastor's gaze softened. He had never seen her afraid before.
"Please."
"I..."
Y/n's eyes flitted wildly around the room, searching for any excuse, any fodder for her escape. At last, she relented, hesitantly placing her hand back into his own.
"Okay."
Her voice was soft, almost breathless. Alastor pulled her into him, snaking an arm around her waist as she placed her other on his shoulder.
"See?" he asked as they began to dance, "All is not lost to you."
There was nothing elegant about her movements. Y/n grimaced.
"But it is not the same either. Once I was something grand."
"Change is inevitable. You are still someone grand."
"Not change like this."
Alastor spun her out, catching Y/n in his arms as she almost tripped over the weight of her foot.
"Why do you hate it so much? Is it vanity?"
“Vanity is a factor," Y/n admitted, "but it is more a question of control. It is easier to trick others into perceiving you as beautiful if you can convince yourself you are beautiful. But mirrors have an uncanny way of telling the truth and I am not made up of the same materials I once was."
"Change is inevitable." Alastor said again and was overjoyed when Y/n rolled her eyes, smiling slightly as his response, "You're still beautiful, almost more so now."
This took her aback. The tingle of a question at the back of her mind was outweighed by shock. She stilled, still pressed close to Alastor as the music filtered softly into their ears.
"What?"
"Before you shined, but just on the inside." Alastor admitted, refusing to look away from her wide eyes even as he felt the heat rush to his cheeks, "Now you do on the outside as well, see?"
He held the hand he clasped tightly in his own up to the light streaming in through the window. The moon glinted off the silver surface of the metal, sending playful patterns scattering across the walls of the kitchen. Y/n's breath caught in her throat.
"And you can still dance. Why don't you help me with dinner tomorrow?"
It was something they had done on occasion before the extermination, cook for the inhabitants of the Hazbin Hotel together.
"Why are you doing this?"
The smile slipped from Alastor's face.
"I don't understand." Y/n shook her head, pushing herself away from Alastor and wrapping her arms around her torso, "Why are you doing all this for me?"
The answer was simple. Sometimes, the truest things in life are.
"Because I love you." he admitted, "And it pains me to see you like this."
"I..."
He had known it was too good to be true. The music stopped, his staff vanishing into thin air as quickly as it had appeared.
"I'll go. Just... make sure you get some sleep tonight, I know you havent been."
He was halfway to the door, mostly past her, when he felt the cool grip of her hand on the exposed skin of his wrist. Alastor stopped, he turned. There was a minute bravery in the act. Not that she had stopped him, that she had grabbed his arm. If anything, that was the most normal thing that had occurred all evening. No, it was the arm she had chosen to use, the one she held such conflict over and saw as something to be embarrassed about, ashamed of.
She stood tense in the moonlight, her free hand raised to her chest.
"I..."
Y/n's mind was spinning, her thoughts firing off at a thousand miles a minute. She wanted to say it, knew it was true, but something stopped her. She wasn't ready.
"Thank you, Alastor."
Alastor smiled softly, almost sadly over at her. Gently, he removed her hand from his wrist, holding it in his own and patting it gently.
"Always."
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QUOTES REFERENCED (BECAUSE I REFUSE TO STEAL OTHERS WORK EVEN FOR A FANFICTION)
“Imagine there was a cure, but it would cost you everything. What would you do?” -> taken from “Imagine there was a cure, but finding it would cost you everything. It would completely ruin your life. What would you do?” in Cinder by Marissa Meyer
“Vanity is a factor," Y/n admitted, "but it is more a question of control. It is easier to trick others into perceiving you as beautiful if you can convince yourself you are beautiful. But mirrors have an uncanny way of telling the truth and I am not made up of the same materials I once was." -> taken from “Vanity is a factor, but it is more a question of control. It is easier to trick others into perceiving you as beautiful if you can convince yourself you are beautiful. But mirrors have an uncanny way of telling the truth.” in Cinder by Marissa Meyer
TAGS:
@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0@kahlan170@wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007
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maple-the-awesome · 9 months
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When Another Finds Out About His Crush Part 3/3
Part 1 || Part 2
Pairings: Warrior, Wild, & Wind x GN Reader
Overview: What happens when someone else in the Chain finds out about his feelings towards you?
Zelda Masterlist 💙Fandom Masterlist
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This...is starting to get annoying.
As a captain who has overseen dozens of soldiers and fought in enough battles to last a lifetime (not that they’ll stop coming anytime soon), Warrior likes to believe he's developed tough skin over the years. While the occasional expression of irritation might slip through sometimes, he prides himself on his ability to usually roll with the punches by remaining both calm and patient, although there are certain...'situations' that truly test this inner strength.
"Quit being such a suck up."
"Hylia, is it possible for you to stop making goo-goo eyes for five seconds?"
"We all get it: you're completely whipped. Just shut up about it already."
"Oh, keep it in your pants, pretty boy.”
Ah yes. There is no situation that tests Warrior more than that annoying sour strawberry who's very keen on getting under his skin whenever possible, but lately it seems he really has no better hobbies to occupy his time.
If guessing, Warrior would say it only started a mere week ago when the two were patrolling around camp with you as an added member. There was nothing particularly strange about Legend's character that day, in fact he remained delightfully quiet (as third wheels should be) until a moment when your trio had to cross a small stream. Warrior, naturally, didn't think twice about putting his own life and dry clothes at risk by balancing on top of those slippery rocks himself where he could then help you across with a steady hand.
"What a gentleman!" You had awed, your smile making it completely worth that small leap his heart gave when he almost lost his footing seconds before, although Legend apparently thought there was a more fitting title to bestow upon the blonde which he did so with a roll of his eyes:
"...What a kiss ass…"
Warrior had rolled his eyes as well, figuring the insult was no different from all the others Legend tends to throw his way, but then they continued with an alarming pattern behind them, too. Always around you and always linked back to Warrior's very private feelings towards you.
How Legend came to discover them is anyone's guess. He could have noticed that your always Warrior's first choice in company or perhaps he's simply grown sick of the way you live entirely rent-free in Warrior's mind, your name somehow being woven into every conversation or the cause for that dreamy look in his eyes as his thoughts wander off...Actually, it might not be such a surprise that Legend found out after all, but Warrior really wishes it could've been literally anyone else (minus you, of course). There's no way Time or Twilight or even mischievous Wild would be as cruel as to wave his feelings in front of his face at every given chance the way Legend is hellbent on doing.
"Whatcha writing, Wars?" Finally a voice he loves to hear and a face his heart soars at seeing.
He's been on his own in the corner of camp for a while now, purposefully secluding himself in hopes of catching a break, however he doesn't mind your presence as you practically hang over his shoulder, a grin on your lips as you try to catch a peek at the paper in his hands.
He instantly smiles to himself and opens his mouth to answer that he's currently making a list of supplies, but another beats him to a far more smug response, "He's probably writing you a love poem."
Warrior snarls at Legend whose life is apparently so boring he can't not listen into any of your conversations even when relaxing by the campfire himself with his back turned to you both. Facing you or not, Warrior knows the idiot has a smirk playing at his face as he pats himself on the back for another ‘amazing’ jab.
"Legend just likes to tease. Don't take it to heart," You place a hand on Warrior's shoulder as soon as you notice his growing irritation which you haven't been blind to at all this week. You've long gotten used to Legend's nagging and teasing, not seeing it as anything personal, although you can understand why it might make others upset, "I'm sure deep down he's just jealous that you're my favorite."
Warrior is so busy being huffy that he almost misses your comment, but when it processes in his mind, he's quick to swallow the lump in his throat and mumble, "I'm your favorite, eh?"
You smile sweetly, "...Well, second favorite. First place goes to Wolfie, I'm afraid."
Warrior blinks, his brain almost malfunctioning now, although it manages to catch up with your words which snaps his head towards you with slight offense over your now teasing smirk, "Wait, how could I be robbed of first place by a dog -"
"- A wolf -"
"- An animal! Why him?" Warrior practically whines, yet you can spare him no sympathy, simply shrugging.
"cause he's cute."
"I'm not?"
"You are, but not like 'cuddly-cute'...Unless…" You lean closer, your whispered voice fanning Warrior's face as he licks his chapped lips nervously, "You're willingly to throw in some cuddles? That scarf of yours looks mighty comfy, Captain."
"...W-While I have no real objections, you are aware that Legend will never cut either of us a break then, right?”
You almost look innocent when gazing up at him through your eyelashes, however the way you play with his scarf is anything but, "It's just an offer. If you're too intimidated by little ol' me, simply say so. I must warn, though, if you can’t step up to the challenge, Wolfie might forever hold the spot of being my favorite...Can’t have that, can we?”
Warrior sucks in a breath before responding in an equal whisper, "Hmm. That would be less than ideal..."
"OH MY HYLIA! GET A ROOM!"
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"You know, he's found a normal life - despite everything he's been through..."
"Sounds like that's what you want, too."
Wild becomes a bit bashful when Warrior hits the nail on the head, although he isn’t ashamed enough to avoid the topic, instead pursuing it in quiet wonder, “Well, I-I don’t really know, but I did buy a house. It’s in a nice area and I’ve done repairs to it recently…”
Cheek resting against his palm, he dares himself to glance across the wooden table to the person sitting directly in front of him. It’s unclear whether you’re listening or not since your eyes remain focused in awe on Malon and Time who’s relationship anyone could admire. Nevertheless, a part of Wild hopes you did hear him because his curiosity is itching to know your opinion. Does settling down somewhere sound pleasant to you or do you plan for a life on the road like Legend’s insistant on? Honestly, the latter might not be a terrible preference if you allow for the idea of someone special joining you on your journey. Wild isn’t picky.
Despite dying to know your outlook on the future, Wild doesn’t plan on asking you up front. He’s perfectly content relying on his imagination right now as he enjoys the peaceful fluttering in his chest which is often fueled by the mental image of the two of you in Hateno, cooking dinner together then eating outside under the sunset before retiring for the night, asleep in each other’s arms rested in a comfortable bed where everything just feels right with the world -
"- What about you, (Y/n)? I personally think Wild has a point. A life like this would be wonderful, don't you think? Living somewhere quiet, with someone special." 
The Champion is ripped away from his fictitious domestic bliss to rejoin reality with a slight jump to his heart rate after he hears Sky casually ask the very question he’s been too afraid to even whisper to himself. It’s as if the Skylofian has been reading his mind, although his attention is solely on you at this moment as he smiles sweetly while awaiting your answer.
Even you look a bit taken back, having finally turned away from the couple to face those you sit at the table with. Still, you give some actual thought over the topic before answering, proving that you have, in fact, been listening at least partly this entire time, “...Yeah, I guess something like this could be nice. Nothing busy, just peaceful livin’ compared to everything else we’ve all been through. It could be a good change of pace - with the right person, of course.”
Wild swears he can feel his heartbeat in his cheeks, tinting them in red heat he worries someone else might notice if he draws too much attention to himself, thus he adds no comment, merely bowing his head in silence. He does wear a rather dreamy smile, though. Does this mean that, in theory, his fantasies don’t have to necessarily stay just that? He wonders if you have a specific area in mind. Sure, Hateno’s great, but if you don’t care for the atmosphere and perhaps favor something a little more rural, he’d be happy to find a nice patch of land for that. Maybe even ask Twilight and Time for some pointers on how to get a ranch started. Honestly, that makes the image all the better. Living off the land, no close neighbors to judge, plenty of space for the kids to play -
“- Any idea who that would be to you?” Wild didn’t expect Sky to keep asking questions, and apparently you weren’t either. Unlike before where you were simply caught off guard for a second, you feel truly thrown off your feet now. Sky awaits your second answer eagerly, his eyes watching you in a way that almost makes you feel like he already knows the truth and is just waiting for you to admit it. Weird. 
Foolishly, Wild was stupid enough to believe even for a second that your eyes crossed his then, but just like that, they darted away as a blush coated your own face, “I, um…no i-idea. You know, not all of us are as lucky as to find our soulmate right off the bat. I, for one, have been a little too busy protecting my Hyrule than to worry about what guy I want to grow old with.”
“Well, I do consider myself very lucky to have Zelda,” Fortunately, Sky isn’t bothered by your defensive reply, merely shrugging and giving you a supportive smile, “Don’t worry, though, (Y/n). Love can find you at the strangest of times. I’m sure your own soulmate could be a lot closer than you think.”
“Uh, thanks?” This time, Wild knows he doesn’t imagine the way you look at him, giving a smile that pretty much translates to ‘what is he on about’. He shrugs in silent response, returning a similar grin that answers ‘no idea’.
The topic of future life fades into another conversation soon after that, allowing Wild’s poor heart a break as he becomes lost in the laughter he shares with you over dinner as everyone places their own bets on Time’s real age. Only once does he think back to earlier and that’s when he happens to glance towards Sky after making a joke that leaves you snorting for air.
The Skylofian watches with the same look you had when observing Time and Malon’s dynamic - a look of admiration and support. It’s then that Wild realizes just why Sky had specifically chosen you for those specific questions. Honestly, Wild doesn’t know if he should be mad or thankful…Maybe he’ll decide to let it pass so long as Sky doesn’t do anything else to put his feelings on the front line or starts trying to plan your marriage. Seriously, one step at a time, for Hylia's sake.
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Wind's home is pretty relaxing compared to the creepy forests or standoffish villages the boys have passed through in recent days. The few inhabitants are very welcoming to their young pirate's friends, happy to allow them sanctuary until they can figure out a proper plan on how to continue onwards seeing as they're kinda stuck on a small island at the moment. Nevertheless, it's a peaceful place, as said. The air is fresh and the waves provide a calm melody that washes away one's stresses. 
Four is particularly keen on spending his time on shore, collecting tiny seashells he can find hidden in the sand which, at least in his opinion, is a far better pass time than drowning in the freezing ocean like some of the others (Sky) seem to be doing.
He's by his lonesome, that is, until Wind himself comes sauntering over. This wouldn't be strange nor would his championship be found annoying seeing as Four actually gets along fairly well with the younger boy, but there's something about his behavior that strikes the Smith as odd. 
He's fiddling with the edges of his tunic in a nervous, impatient fashion, stopping a few feet away in silence yet carrying a certain air to himself that practically screams that he's waiting to say something, however he keeps his mouth shut with pressed lips until Four decides to break the silence himself while standing straight out of the sand, asking for good measure, "Something wrong?"
"Umm…Do you have any good present ideas in mind?”
That wasn't exactly what Four expected the Pirate to say, although it does intrigue him. Confused, but hooked to find out more, "'Present ideas'?"
"Yeah!" In a second, Wind goes from nervous to excited, his face glowing in delight as if by merely echoing his own words, Four had somehow managed to give him exactly the answer he’s been desperately searching for, "You said that your Minish friends leave 'little gifts' in the grass for people, right? I was just curious what those gifts usually are."
Four gives Wind a skeptical look. Perhaps he shouldn’t give him the benefit of the doubt and instead question his motives further considering the trouble some of the Links on his trip tend to get into, yet he ultimately doesn’t think too much about the rather random topic choice. Young kids do typically have strange attention spans and interests, after all. Having been a young kid himself once, Four decides to humor Wind with a shrug as he begins to count the seashells he holds in hand, "Normally they leave hearts and rupees, although it isn't unheard of for them to leave rarer items or little trinkets."
"Trinkets, huh?" Wind gives it some thought, "...Do you think it's possible for them to leave something like this?"
Four looks up from his seashells, noticing that Wind is holding a butterfly necklace proudly in the air - one very similar to what he currently wears around his neck. Notably, it looks newer than his; less worn from years of use.
"I've found a lot of these hidden in different areas when I was traveling the seven seas," Wind explains boastfully, holding the glittery necklace to the light with a hand on his hip. Four shares his smile, reaching the conclusion that he must be asking to confirm where said necklaces had come from.
"It's entirely possible."
Wind's smile then fades into a softer look as he studies the necklace a bit closer. He scratches some of the dust off with his fingernail, making sure it looks good-as-new before glancing over to where the rest of their group hangs out across the beach, "...And do you think if a, um…Minish left something like this in the grass for (Y/n) to find, do you - do you think they'd like that?"
Four blinks...Ooh...Now Wind's random questioning begins to make a lot more sense. Sure, he's noticed the way you both get on well, which has never been a surprise seeing as you seem good with kids and all, but it's honestly really adorable to see the young pirate wanting to do a sweet gesture for you and to be so shy doing so. It reminds Four of a simpler time when he used to do something similar by leaving flowers around for Zelda to find. It didn't necessarily have anything to do with romance, he just liked seeing her smile when she found them. He assumes that feeling is about the same for Wind towards you.
"...Yeah, I'm sure (Y/n) would really like that actually - if 'a Minish' left them a necklace," Four agrees, biting back his smirk when Wind lights up again. Just like that, the Pirate is turning on his heel, his smile going from ear to ear as he grips said necklace in hand excitedly.
"I better go find a good place to hide it then - Uh, I-I mean…You know, for the Minish to find? S-So that they can hide it for (Y/n), of course!"
"Of course. If I see any Minish, I’ll tell them about the plan. Who knows, maybe they’ll hide it in that long grass across the bridge? I know (Y/n) was wanting to explore that area later,” Four has to turn around to hide his expression when Wind glances back at him in consideration. Just as predicted, his course is quick to change, hurrying across the island which gives Four time to go back to collecting his seashells in peace once more, a smirk still playing on his face. Ah, young love…
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headspace-hotel · 1 year
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So. I saw your post about plants that so many people don't know exist, and I 100% agree- it's so sad that so many don't even realize their native plants exist. Or animals. The world wasn't made to be concrete and steel.
That said, I might be half decent at recognizing native plants, but I don't know a thing about the more obscure and less well known types. Like, edible fruits people don't eat? What are they called? What do they taste like? What wild and wacky flowers do I not know exist? What about rare plants, or ones that look similar to what we know but are completely different? What about stange animals?
Anyways, if/when you're in the mood to ramble I would love to hear about all the different plants.
Well, native plants will of course be unique to where you live, so I can only speak to my own area...but where I live, there is a little known fruit called a Pawpaw (not to be confused with Papaya, which is a different thing).
I think lots of people know about pawpaw, but despite a great deal of interest in commercializing it, this fruit is never found in stores due to being very fragile and spoiling soon after ripening.
You have to eat the pawpaw right after it falls from the tree and not a minute too late. It has a wonderfully soft, smooth texture and tastes like a mixture of banana and mango. The flesh literally melts in your mouth. I came upon a windfall of perfectly ripe pawpaws in the woods one day last fall, and it was a transcendent experience; I'm still haunted by how delicious they were. God's perfect food.
The thing is, when you go driving around in my area, you will see wild pawpaw trees everywhere there are streams and low-lying areas. You'd have to watch them closely because the possums love pawpaw, but I wonder how many people know to...
Flowers! I'd love to talk about flowers. You see, the plants that end up on lists of native wildflowers for butterfly gardens are a small selection that have been bred and cultivated by nurseries...but there are so many more.
For example, look at the Redwhisker Clammyweed:
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Delightful. And I didn't even know it was a thing. 
I'll add some of my own photos now. Here is a flower that popped up on its own in my back yard:
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Purple passion flower! Its fruit is also edible.
Here is a native Ruellia I found in the pavement:
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Spring Blue-Eyed Mary at a nature preserve
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Wingstem:
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Citronella Horse Balm:
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An Ironweed that popped up randomly at the base of a tree in my back yard. Amazing things happen when you strategically identify areas to not mow.
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This past summer I kept a big horseshoe-shaped patch of the back yard (where we used to have a garden patch) from being mowed, and by the time it was fall, this goldenrod and Frost Aster came all on its own! Literal clouds of butterflies and bees constantly hovered around it.
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We call that spot the Meadow now. My mom complained for most of the summer about the "weeds," until one day I came home from work and she and my sister were in the meadow on a picnic blanket, staring at the butterflies and bees. "There are tiny bees!" my mom said, indicating a Melissodes longhorn bee. "I didn't know there were bees like that!"
A lot of my work these days has to do with introducing experiences with nature to people, because I've seen how it completely changes their perspective. The Meadow is going to be amazing in the spring...
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