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roonotrue · 2 days

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Cult of the Lamb: Redemption Chapter #4

TW: Depiction of painkilling herbs being eaten- aka one loopy-as-hell cat.

Realizations - Narinder

Narinder is not a poet. Not a writer, or a master of words.

So it is no surprise that Lamb's confession stunned him into silence.

"And I wanted you to care so much, but you didn't."

How is he supposed to care if he didn't fucking know? That's not fair of them to hold that against him. It's not fair for them to act like some heartbroken beau that he led on, and then tossed aside.

And then they had the audacity to leave before he could even find a way to respond.

He supposes a part of him is relieved they're not kneeling in front of him anymore while he's trying to sort through his thoughts.

They cared about him. What does that even mean? In the context of a god and a follower?

He thinks he knows exactly what Lamb means, but he'll be damned if he just assumes...

He tries to look back and pinpoint the moments that could give him some kind of hint, or insight into what they mean. Moments that he somehow missed the first time around.

But looking back, all of his memories feel hazy.

Like a terrible, violent fever dream of being so angry, in pain, waiting... Then the betrayal. Every time they try and think back on moments with the Lamb they are greeted by that moment.

When they refused to give the Red Crown back, and instead chose to raise their blade to him.

And every time he is reminded of that moment, he is filled with this cold, dead weight in his chest that he wants to call rage but he knows it's something different.

Hurt.

And hurt made him angry.

Why did it hurt so much? Because he let himself become fond of the wretched beast, he tells himself. He grew attached, even though he knew exactly how things were meant to end.

But they didn't end that way, did they? And now here he is. Alone.

Looking down at his bandages, he can still feel the cooling, refreshing sensation of the medical salve, easing the soreness of his wounds. It didn't help at all with the cramping in his muscles, or aching in his bones, causing the horrible shaking throughout his limbs.

But a feeling that trumps the cramping, or the cooling of the medicine are the traces... The traces of Lamb's touch linger all over his body. His arms, around his ankles, his back and torso. Everywhere he tries to focus his attention he feels them.

Such light, careful care, embedded all over him deeper than the injuries left by his chains.

It had made him forget how angry he was, and say things he shouldn't have... Feel things he shouldn't have.

Things like that horrible fondness, that make him want to hear Lamb's laughter again. That makes him want to hold them in his hand, and hope that they're bold enough to duck under his veil again so he can see them better...

They were so close to him, and when they pulled away, he grabbed them. Not wanting to lose the feeling. The momentary peace that being so close to someone after so long brings. Even if that person is them. The one who...

Who makes him so hurt and so angry every time he thinks about them. About what they did, or what they're doing now. Being so kind, and so damn sincere that he wants to believe them, but he can't.

He can't trust them, he or be fond of them, and he certainly can't care about them, because they took everything from him. His power. His divinity. His dignity.

The only thing they left him with is his life, and he's still 50/50 on whether that's worse.

His torso has yet to be bandaged. The lamb left so quickly, that he can only assume they are going to get this 'Miki' person to do the stitches and finish wrapping him up.

He doubts it will be the last time he sees Lamb while he's... 'Unwell' like this. So he needs to figure out what to say when they do come face to face again.

Does he need to say something? Does he want to say something? Should he confront them about the unfairness of this situation? Or just let it go and pretend it never happened?

Narinder has already come to terms with the fact that he's stuck accepting their help and afterward being stuck as a mere follower- he'll be damned before he has to do any pathetic chores or menial tasks though.

Now, though... He's conflicted. He had planned to ignore Lamb after he was healed and didn't need their assistance anymore... But he wants answers. He wants to know what Lamb means when they say they care, and why their admission confuses him so much.

Makes him want to clarify things.

Tell them that he might not have... Cared in the same way he thinks they mean, but that he had... Preferred them to... Past vessels?

Fates, he feels like a fool.

If he wasn't in so much pain, he'd throw himself back onto the bed and bury his head under the pillows to try and block out all these thoughts and feelings.

"Um... Hello? Narinder, sir? May I come in?"

He's still leaning over the bed, glaring daggers at the empty ground where Lamb had been when the clear-toned voice interrupts his inner conflict.

"Come in." He sighs, and the fennec fox's head pops through the curtains, looking around before stepping inside.

The light from outside has turned a deep orange and pinkish tone. The sun is setting.

She's holding a small wooden box of well-organized metal tools and supplies, and she strides up to him, holding her silence, and focused gaze as kneels behind him, and examines his back.

Narinder wants to whirl around and hiss at her to back the fuck up, but he doesn't have the physical energy or pain tolerance to do so.

"I'm guessing you're Miki?" He sighs, giving up on doing anything but sitting down and just dealing with whatever he's handed.

"Yes. I take care of most medical-related issues around camp. The Lamb was right, these do need stitches, a lot. I imagine it's just as bad in the front. Are these scars anything to worry about?" She points at the two identical scars running just below his pecs, and he shakes his head.

"No. I've had those since before all this. Top surgery scars, I don't think any of you followers know what that is..." He sighs, and she shrugs.

"We have top surgery, it's just not as... Safe. As it could be. I'm working on making it safer. We can talk more about it later because I do have questions regarding where your surgery was done and by whom, but for now..." She pauses to meet his gaze and holds up the curved needle in her hand.

"This is going to take a while so settle in and lay down on your stomach. I can offer you some herbs to numb the pain, but they'll make you very tired, and kind of loopy. It's up to you if you want them though." She steps back to give him space to move.

Lamb clearly didn't tell her that he can't move very well without help, and he isn't about to admit it.

So he settles for trying to force his body to move through the pain.

His back is the worst of it, digging a deep growl out of his throat as he tries to twist himself around, onto the bed on his stomach, without moving the blanket off of him and giving the poor follower an eyeful.

"Do you need assistance? I understand that you can't move very well, but I wanted to see it for myself to analyze. Can you describe the kind of pain you are experiencing?" Ah, so she does know.

"It's a cramping. So bad that I can't stop shaking, or get my limbs to do what I want. My back and legs are the worst." He explains as she places a slightly too firm grasp on his shoulders and mildly manhandles him to lay on his back.

Giving her a full view of his injuries.

"Hmm. I have dealt with a few similar cases in people who haven't moved for long periods, usually only a few months, but years... Well, I'll tell you now, it's not an easy fix. Do you want the herbs? They won't take effect immediately, but it will make everything less painful, stitches and cramping. They'll also probably put you to sleep for the rest of the night." She talks slightly faster and far more monotone than he expected for someone who follows Lamb.

Something about the lack of emotion in her voice creates a professional air in the whole shelter. An air that makes him feel far safer than he's felt in his entire time being here.

"I'll take them. How do I get rid of the cramping?" He asks as he hears her shuffling around the supplies.

She moves around and he turns his head to look at her as she holds out a small leaf-bound bundle, he swallows it quickly as the bitter taste nearly makes him gag.

"I don't want you to push yourself too much because of your outward injuries, but the only real way to help regain your strength and control over your limbs is to exercise and stretch them. Water therapy would be best, but submerging your stitches isn't an option." She explains, her hands poking and prodding at his back, pulling painfully at some of the deeper wounds.

Far less gentle than Lamb had been.

"Watch it." He hisses, in pain, and then lets his curiosity win. "And what's water therapy?"

"Swimming, essentially. A gentler alternative to normal physical therapy. Either way, you'll need someone to oversee it, myself ideally, but I can train the Lamb to aid you instead if you are not comfortable with my presence." He only hums in response.

His body doesn't hurt as much, and as she said, he's becoming drowsy. His eyelids are heavy, and the shaking in his arms is subsided. He hardly even feels the sharp piercing as it follows a horizontal path around his waist.

He's half asleep when it stops and moves up around his left shoulder blade. Then right. Then the same monotone voice asks him to turn over so she can 'evaluate the damage'.

He would think that the newfound lack of agony coursing through his bones would make it much easier. Instead, the fatigue pulls him down and makes his whole body turn to dead weight. She's talking again, and he peeks his eyes open but quickly decides that whatever it is, isn't as important as sleep.

So he closes them again.

~~~

"You've done well vessel. Soon enough, my chains will be broken, thanks to your ruthless efficiency." He's staring at them, as they sit in his hand, only a few inches from his face.

They're awfully silent this visit. Usually, they break into a ramble about the crusade they had just died during, or the way things around the cult are going. And Narinder would listen. Their voice is soothing. Easing the burning tension in his body the moment they arrive, and look up at him with that radiant smile, so overjoyed to see him again.

~~~

He opens his eyes when there are small hands- the fennec fox's hands trying to lift him to roll him over. He can't recall her name... Miku? Mimi? Something like that. She curses under her breath.

He tries to aid her in her weak attempts, even though his mind is hazy. But he must have done something right because now he's on his back, and the piercing is on his stomach now so he closes his eyes again.

~~~

He likes this one. This vessel. A small, innocent-looking Lamb, with all the fire and maliciousness of a thousand suns, scorching all who stand against them. Yet when they stand before him, they are soft-spoken. They laugh a lot, usually at something he does or says.

He doesn't know what's so funny, but the sound is like music, so he doesn't question it.

Others, like Ratau, were weak, but not just that, they were so... Boring. They didn't speak much, didn't respond well, and only ever bowed to him before being sent back to the overworld.

~~~

When he opens his eyes again it's to the sound of Lamb's voice.

"Narinder, I'm just gonna help hold you up while Miki wraps the bandage around you- oof! Okay- this, uh, this works. I guess." Their laughter is nervous, hesitant, and not the carefree one he would much rather grace his ears.

He is leaning forward, his head resting against them. They don't smell like blood, or death like he expects now that they are the God of Death. No, they smell like they always have. Like wildflowers, and fresh air after rain.

They're warm, and he bunts his head against the side of their face, before burying it into their neck, shutting his eyes again.

~~~

"What troubles you, my vessel? You have not spoken, by now Aym and Baal are ready to kick you out themselves." He chuckles, as he looks down at the mentioned twins, who side-eye glance at each other and shrug in agreement to the statement.

His dear Lamb looks up with startled eyes, and he can't help but chuckle. They must not have realized how obvious they were being...

"Nothing! Really it's nothing, well, not nothing, nothing, just... I want to tell you something, but it's hard to... Word. And I don't think that right now is the best time..." They ramble now.

Perhaps he shouldn't have said anything...

~~~

He opens his eyes this time because Lamb laughs again. A good laugh at something the small fox said. Soft, but sincere, and he can feel it reverberate through their chest. He wraps his arms up and around them to pull him closer and they become stiff as a board.

He doesn't care though, as his hands rest at their waist, and a deep rumbling is sounding from somewhere... Is it coming from him? Is he purring? He hasn't purred in a long time, and it's hard to recognize the sound.

He shoves his face into his Lamb's soft wool as he closes his eyes for what's hopefully the final time...

~~~

"Silence, Lamb, you need not speak of it if you wish not to. I only wish to know, so that I might ease the worries off of your face. I much prefer your smile." He raises his other hand to lift his Lamb's chin carefully with the tip of his clawed pointer finger.

They smile as they meet his eyes, but it is still nervous, and unsure. They glance away from him, their eyes darting around the afterlife, refusing to meet his gaze.

"I... Appreciate that, but I think I'll save what's on my mind for later. How about after I've gotten you out of these chains? Deal?" They now look a bit more energetic, as they jump up, and duck down, and before he has time to process it...

There they are. Underneath his veil, peering up into his blood-soaked eyes. Smiling, without a care in the world, as if what they've just done isn't enough to get them massacred by any other God in their right mind.

They lean against his nose, and he is suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that they smell like wildflowers and fresh air after rain. Such a refreshing... Lively scent. As if they aren't working for the God of Death, but rather frolicking fields with a God of Life.

They rest their arms on his snout and blink up at him, tilting their head ever so slightly in curiosity when he remains still in stunned silence.

They then laugh when he laughs, and he wants them to stay right there for as long as it might take for him to grow sick of their presence. But he's not sure when that might be. A century or two? Maybe three if they don't run out of things to talk about too quickly.

But alas. There are still Bishops to defeat, a cult to maintain, and chains to be broken.

Perhaps before he has them kneel to sacrifice themselves to him, he can ask them what it is they had planned on saying.

"Deal."

~~~

He wakes one final time when he's being carefully laid back onto the mattress and a soft voice is mumbling. His Lamb's voice.

Something about changing the bed sheets in the morning, and the current ones being bloodied.

"Lamb..." His voice is so quiet, it's a miracle he can even hear himself.

He has a tight hold on their fleece.

"Yes, Narinder?" Their voice is wobbly, and he tries to force his eyes open.

He wants to see them, but he's so tired.

"You planned to confess... After I was freed... How could I not see that you..." How could he not realize that they loved him?

Was he so oblivious? He could have read their mind at any time, but he didn't... He could have seen their feelings. He could have also seen their betrayal coming, but somehow, this is less important than their feelings.

"I... You're all loopy, Nari, go to sleep, and I'll bring you breakfast in the morning." They pry his hand off of their fleece, and he lets them, with a soft hum.

"Nari? I like that..." Nari. His siblings used to call him that when he was still very small, but stopped when he got older.

When he got the Red Crown.

"Hm. I'll call you it more often than if you promise not to try and kill me when you're less high." They stand up and pull one of the blankets up over him, and then they're walking away.

No. Stay.

Please stay.

His brain screams, but his mouth can't keep up, and the fog in his mind is so heavy and his limbs are so heavy and his heart is so heavy, and everything is just so damn heavy...

His heavy thoughts fill with thoughts of Lamb. His Lamb. Who smells like wildflowers and fresh air after rain. His Lamb. Who he was once so fond of, but now can't bring himself to feel such fondness without it reside beside pain. And anger. And distrust.

And they are in pain, angry, and distrustful too.

So how do either of them fix it?

~~~

When he wakes up he is alone, and his head is still hazy, and his body is in agony.

Stiff, and sore, his torso is immovable, a dull throbbing making him groan in pain. His arms and legs hurt just the same but aren't as bad as they were.

Maybe he's just too focused on his torso to care about the tremors as they start racking his arms again. Or, maybe it's the haunting realization of his own drug-induced actions last night that really keeps him frozen in his place, eyes wide, staring at the ceiling.

He didn't know he could be so... Touchy. When tired. But the smell of them is still swirling around in his mind, and it makes it hard to focus on anything else he did.

He doesn't remember all of it, not clearly anyway, from having been in and out of consciousness. But he remembers the moment Lamb arrived. When they laughed. When he leaned forward onto them. When he shoved his head into the wool on their neck. When he started purring so deeply he could feel it vibrating his whole body...

The room is cleared of all medical supplies, and the nightstand is cleaned off.

He's not exactly sure what time it is, or how long he's been asleep, but he knows, from the light slowly brightening around the edges of the window and doorway curtains that it's close to morning.

And that Lamb promised to bring him breakfast. So he needs to get his thoughts in order quickly.

He still needs to confront Lamb about their sudden admission to him. Then about that day... That distinct memory replaying in his mind helped him connect the dots even in his herb-induced state.

Lamb had wanted to confess to him after they freed him, and he...

Guilt is still a foreign emotion to him. He used to feel it in small amounts when he was a child and would get into spats with Leshy, or Heket and say something he didn't mean.

The worst time was during a thunderstorm that he had gotten caught in on his way back to the temple. He doesn't remember where he was returning from or when the first strike of thunder sent him running out of his own damn skin, but he does remember hiding.

Hiding, terrified in the small hollow of an old tree trunk. The mud soaking around his feet, and the bottom of his robe. When Shamura found him he was so afraid he hadn't wanted to get out from under the trunk, and when his older sibling reached in to grab him, he'd just... Lashed out.

His claws hooked on Shamura's forearm damn good, and he knew he drew blood when they tried to pull away and his claws yanked out of the skin it was caught on.

He felt the wave of guilt hit him harder than the fear and strike as quickly as the lightning of the storm around him.

And no matter how many times he apologized, or how many times Shamura tried to assure him it was alright, he was haunted by the feeling.

The guilt. That made his heart sink like lead in water every time he saw the paper-thin scars on Shamura's arm.

But all those times happened long ago before he was even given the Red Crown. Since then, this degree of guilt has snuck up on him twice. Both because of Lamb.

When he had snapped at them the other and they rushed out of the room on the verge of tears, and then now.

Feeling this overwhelming guilt because of this horrible realization that the entire time he had been waiting for the day they would sacrifice their life to him...

They were waiting to tell him that they were in love with him.

He wonders how they felt in that moment. The second he asked them to kneel, did they feel the same sinking dread in their chest that he felt when they chose not to?

Did they feel the same horrible dread when they marched to their death earlier that year, standing before his kin as they prepared to kill the final lamb?

If so then it truly confirms the thought that's been plaguing him for the last hour.

He's no better than them. Hell, he might be worse. At least they didn't trick any of the lambs they were slaughtering into trusting them. Or become selectively blind when said lamb fell in love with them.

Speaking of the new God of Death...

The moment that they knock on his door and step through the curtain with a soft, sad smile, and a warm breakfast in their hands he realizes something that makes all of his other realizations that much more horrid...

He never would have asked them to kneel, if he had known they loved him.

Maybe I even would have...

"Morning, Nari. I brought another mixed meal, everything is bland and seasonless, but there's a bit more variety. I'm also going to get started on those upgrades for your shelter. Nothing perfect, but function for now." They sit on the bed next to him, and he's glad to find that he can sit up a little easier on his own, without as much pain as before.

At least in his arms. His torso is irritated and sore as shit. Lamb moves to grip his arm and help him, and he bites his own tongue to stop from purring at the touch.

The herbs clearly haven't worn off completely just yet...

Looking them in the eye there are a million things he wants to say but what comes out isn't exactly what he's expecting.

"I'm sorry."

A simple two words as Lamb sits beside him to help him eat, just like they've done the day before. They freeze in place, staring at him with widened eyes, and he stares back.

As stunned as he is, he's surprised to find that he doesn't regret the words.

He's not sure that his own anger has subsided. Hell, looking at them now, glancing at the Red Crown on their head that was once his... He can still feel the flickering flames of frustration, and the much stronger flame of humiliation and embarrassment.

But neither are as strong as they once were. The raging wildfire has died down, turning to something more... Tired.

He just wants all this pain to stop, and to be able to move freely again.

He wants to be free.

It's all he thinks he wants anymore. Before the desire for freedom lived closely beside his desperation for revenge.

To destroy the other Bishops. His family. Make them pay for locking him up in the first place.

At some point... Maybe after the thousand-year mark, or maybe two thousand years, freedom became his main priority.

Revenge became an... Added bonus.

And now? It's all he's been thinking about- thoughts of Lamb not counting.

Wanting so desperately for the pain to subside so that he can once again see the world outside of this shelter.

And all the anger still buried inside is just a footnote in comparison to that desire.

So when he looks into the Lamb's eyes and sees their confusion, he doesn't have it in him to take the words back or snap at them.

He can't forgive them, at least not now. Perhaps not ever. But he knows he's tired of being mad. Tired of lashing out every time they reach out to help, and then feeling guilty an instant later.

And he is Sorry.

Sorry that he didn't know. Sorry that he never gave them a chance to tell him. Sorry, that...

In the end, he really wasn't any better than his siblings. Maybe he still isn't. He's not sure anymore.

What he is sure of, is that even if he's still angry, they have a right to be angry too, and yet...

They're helping him anyway. Caring for his wounds, feeding him, helping him move, and upgrading his shelter so he doesn't have to leave if he doesn't want to, and can just spend the rest of his immortal life locked indoors...

And all he's doing is complaining, snapping at them, and making them cry.

Even his shitty siblings, if they were here, would agree that that's not fair.

"You're... Sorry?" They repeat, head tilting, unsure, and stiff as a board.

"Yeah." He wants to lean forward towards them again but resists, grabbing the blankets below him just to keep himself anchored in place.

"I'm still angry at you. So... So angry. I hate that you spared me. I hate how pathetic, weak, and humiliated I feel. I hate that you're the one that's made me feel this way... But I... I recognize that you're angry too and that what I did was not... I shouldn't have... Fuck, I don't know..." He sighs, lifting a hand to drag down his face, and pausing to think of his next words carefully.

At this point he's glaring down at his remaining hand as his claws dig into the blanket, refusing to look back up at Lamb.

"I don't know that I regret what I did, but I regret that I hurt you when I did it. I regret that I didn't know because if I did... I'm not sure things would have played out the way they did. But we can't change that now, so I'm sorry. Sorry, that I was, and that I have been, ignorant." He finishes his botched apology.

It's not elegant. Not exactly what he wants to say either, but it will have to do, because now his head hurts.

He just wants them to respond already, but glancing up, the deep frown and contemplating look on their face tells him their gonna need a minute.

A long. Long minute.

"You're wrong..." They breathe, the words a whisper in the silent room.

His eyes dart to theirs, but they carefully avoid his questioning gaze.

"Do you remember much of last night? When you were talking to me before I left?" They ask, setting the bowl on the bed beside them, and bringing their hands into their lap, twiddling their thumbs.

I remember I didn't want you to leave...

"I remembered the day you ducked under my veil. The action distracted me from the conversation, but I remembered it last night. That day... You were planning to tell me that you... Cared." He doesn't dare say the real word. Not out loud. "Weren't you?"

"I was. I had this silly idea that... That after you were freed, I would confess, and you would accept, and I would show you the camp and everything I've built for... For you. And that maybe we could... I don't know. It's stupid, thinking about it now." They stand up and move around the bed towards the window.

Still avoiding his eyes, as they follow their movements with far too much interest.

Lifting a hand, with a single finger he cracks open the curtain just slightly, letting the morning light peek inside, as they look out.

"But then... Everything happened... You were right when you called me weak. When you were defeated, and I had the choice to spare or kill you, I was weak. I couldn't bring myself to do it, because a part of me still hoped that if I spared you, you would..." They let out a shaky sigh, and finally turn to look at him.

A pleading look in their eyes, begging him to understand so they wouldn't have to say it out loud.

"Oh." A dim response. But what the hell else could he say?

"Yeah. Oh." They give a dry laugh, and move back, sitting on the edge of the bed, before sliding down onto the floor.

They rest their hands over their eyes.

"But you're wrong about me being angry at you. I'm angry at myself, and every time I look at you I'm just... Miserable. Sad that nothing happened the way I wanted it to, and now here we are. You're wounded and in pain, and I'm so conflicted and confused about this." They motion up to the Red Crown.

"I mean, I'm a god now. I never planned on that! I've been leading this cult with the expectation that you'd take over once I freed you, but instead, I'm going to be their leader for who knows how long! And I can't even get half of them to stop wanting to eat their own shit!" Their voice rises the more they rant, and he snorts at the last part.

"Yeah, well, followers aren't as smart as they used to be. Back when The Old Faith was at its best, Shamura had a strong school system in place, and Kallamar was an expert in medicine and hygiene, sharing his knowledge with his most devout so that they could spread the word of what is and isn't good for you. Such as eating shit." He comments, a small smile gracing his face.

"But that was... A long time ago. Since my imprisonment, the Bishop's wounds, and the genocide of the lambs, everything has deteriorated. Now those who remain are just trying to survive. No shepherd to guide them." Another realization, he notes as he speaks.

"You are the only god remaining now, Lamb. The only one that can create so much as a semblance of society, so that they no longer have to struggle. So that they can actually enjoy life before their bodies wither, and they have to surrender their souls to you. The new God of Death." He sits up and tosses his mildly aching legs over the side of the bed.

Moving as slow as he can for his torso's sake, and relying solely on what little arm strength he has, and a bit on gravity, he pushes himself down onto the floor. Next to Lamb. The blanket is dragged down with him.

"Well, that really makes me feel better." They grumble, looking at him and his tail involuntarily brushes against their arm, an attempt at comfort.

"I'm not trying to make you feel better-" Liar. "Just telling the truth."

"... I've been leading them long enough to know what I need to do, I just don't know how. Some of my more valued followers like Noon, and Miki are trying to help, but neither of them knows much about the divine aspect of it, like shepherding souls, maintaining the afterlife, etc..." They lift a hand up, grabbing the crown of their head and bringing it down in front of them to examine.

"I do." He blurts, not fully thinking about how much it sounds like an offer.

They too jump, head darting to look at him.

"You'll help me?" They ask, disbelief heavy in their voice.

"Maybe. If your cult doesn't fall apart before I can breathe without pain, then maybe- and that's a very strong maybe. I'll consider giving you some pointers on how to be a proper God of Death. A way to earn your forgiveness, since I doubt my words mean much to you." He subconsciously moves his tail again, brushing it along the side of their face.

When he sees it, he quickly grabs the offending part and pins it to the ground. He's grateful when Lamb chooses not to mention it, only glancing at the now pinned tail with a soft giggle.

A giggle that makes his fur stand on end in a fluttering feeling he can't even begin to identify.

Embarrassment. That's what he's going to call it. Embarrassment.

"They do mean something, Narinder... I know it took a lot for you to say them, so thank you, for apologizing..." Their smile drops, and they turn their gaze away.

"But?" He can feel it coming from a mile away.

"But I think it's going to take a lot more to fix things than an apology. I'm still not even confident that when you get better you won't just try to attack me and get the crown back then..." They're right to be paranoid about that.

He's thought about it. A lot.

Is still kind of thinking about it.

"Right. Well, I don't plan on doing that right now, we'll see about later though." He can't help but smirk at the small glare they send his way.

"I guess I can live with that. And for the record, I'm sorry too. Not for choosing not to die, but that you feel weak and humiliated because of me. But you should know, Narinder, that you are not pathetic. You're strong, and I beat you by a hair, and now, here you are, dealing with a pain that no normal mortal alive could tolerate... You're..." They pause, meeting his eyes for a long moment.

There's something there. Something akin to adoration- much like the kind they used to wear on their face when they looked up at him when he was a god.

It makes his fur stand on end again in embarrassment.

Embarrassment that's all it is.

He has to break eye contact, turning to look at the window, and flinching when light hits his eyes. The small opening Lamb made earlier still bleeding light into the room.

They notice his flinch.

"Oh, right, your eyes. Sorry." They stand up, quickly, moving a single step forward to close the curtain properly.

"It's fine." He hadn't even realized how close they'd been. It was just so natural. Being so close to them...

It felt strangely right.

Now though, with the distance between them, the spell is broken. Even they seem to realize it.

"Right well, I do have a lot to do today so... Why don't I switch your bedsheets, get you back in bed, get you fed, and then work on those shelter upgrades, hmm?" There is a newfound pep in their step.

And in a second they're bouncing across the room with an energy that does not match the conversation they've been having for the last half-an-hour.

A mask. One that they put on so easily it's almost frightening.

But he doesn't complain. He's gone through enough emotions to last him a week, and right now, he just wants to eat and go back to sleep.

Of course, Lamb isn't going to make it that easy.

"Sooo, about last night, was it the herbs that made you all cuddly or am I just that adorable?" They look back at him with a teasing smile that could light up the darkest of nights.

"Shut the fuck up-!!"

~~~

Fun fact: Miki is based on one of my favorite followers from my first-ever game, a game that my little cousin ended up deleting when I let him play on my Switch. That's the real betrayal here. I still haven't forgiven that 11-year-old punk.

I'm thinking about making an 'introduction to the featured and background OC's post.' What do y'all think?

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augustinewrites · 12 days

Text

“sorry i'm late,” you sigh, hurrying into the teacher’s lounge much later than usual. shoko’s the only one there, feet propped up on the coffee table as she flips through a medical journal. you throw your coat over the back of a chair before joining her, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes

“morning, sunshine.” shoko chuckles, handing you a mug. “this is a double shot, but maybe i should have gotten you a triple? what kept you up last night?”

“nothing," you quickly defend.

“you sure? because i'm not above blocking all the exits until you tell me.”

“you promise not to judge?”

“not out loud.”

you roll your eyes at your best friend, but wring your hands tightly in your lap as you recall the events of last night. “have you ever had a…a special dream–”

shoko sits up straight, eyes wide as she says, much too loud, “you mean a sex dream?”

“shh!” you swat her on the arm, glaring.

shoko ignores your obvious distress, grinning from ear to ear. “who are you having sex dreams about? is it ijichi? akari? oh my god, is it me? is it gojo? don’t tell me it’s gojo…”

“i may have been dreaming about…kento.”

“nanami?!”

heat immediately pools in your cheeks. “you can’t tell anyone, especially gojo. and hey, don't say it like that!”

“i swear i’m not judging!” she promises. “if anything, i approve!”

“ugh,” you groan, heading over to the counter to put your unfinished mug in the sink. “i don’t know what’s going on with me.”

“fantasizing is normal. i’ve fantasized about everyone here. you, nanami, even gojo.”

“seriously?”

she takes a sip of her coffee, shrugging. “i'm a scorpio.”

that explains nothing and in no way makes you feel any better. if anything, you’re starting to feel a little possessive over someone who isn't even yours.

“well i need to stop thinking about him like this,” you mutter, frowning.

“back to your dream. did you guys…do it?”

“shoko!” you gasp, gaze darting to the open door.

“so you did,” she deduces. “was it good?”

it was great. not that you’d tell her.

“hey, naughty is good. naughty is sexy,” she laughs.

you rest your hip against the counter, shaking your head. “i can’t dream of him like that again. i can’t go on missions with him if i’m having these…inappropriate thoughts.”

“why? cause you want to be his good girl?”

some clears their throat loudly.

both your heads whip toward the door, where nanami’s standing with his briefcase. “good morning.”

as he walks further into the lounge you wonder two things. first, how much he heard. second, how much force would it take to put your head through the wall–

“excuse me.” your entire body stiffens when a hand is placed on your waist, nanami gently moving you to the side as he grabs a mug from the cabinet.

memories of last night’s dream invade the crevices of your mind, causing you to quickly step out of his reach. with his back turned you look to shoko for help, who simply makes a circle with her thumb and index finger and–

you feign casualness when nanami turns to face you, sending you a small smile before taking his coffee and making a swift exit.

shoko bursts out laughing as you groan, wishing you could melt into the floor.

_____

“look at them. they're totally talking about us,” gojo mutters, peeking into the teacher’s lounge.

“so?” nanami asks, prying gojo’s hand from his sleeve.

“so, what do you think they're talking about? oh– oh, shoko just pulled out her phone. maybe they're talking about the thirst trap i posted for–”

nanami grabs the back of gojo’s shirt collar, dragging him away from the door. “why would they be talking about a picture you posted for your fiancée?”

“because i'm hot–”

“please stop talking.”

“you’re hot too, nanamin! someone’s been giving you the look lately.”

that makes him pause. “really? what look?”

the sorcerer wriggles out of his grip, an irritatingly wide grin on his face. “got your attention, did i?”

“what did you mean by that? what look?”

“the look. you know, the one where you’re picturing someone naked. fantasizing about them. caught her once while you were cooking us dinner. speaking of, what’s that one dish you made with the…”

nanami tunes out gojo’s nonsensical rambling, focusing on the few important things he’d shared as they walk down the hall. you were picturing him naked?

interesting.

_____

when you open the front door of your apartment, nanami is standing there with a bag of groceries and a bottle of wine.

oh no. this is how the fantasies always start.

“i was on my way home and wondered if you’ve eaten yet.”

you’d eaten two hours ago, but you step back to let him inside and get set up in the kitchen.

soon enough, your little kitchen is filled with the sound and scents of a home cooked meal. nanami is a natural in the kitchen, tossing veggies in a pan and stirring his homemade sauce.

(it almost looks as good as nanami does with his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, cooking dinner in your apartment.)

you’re snapped out of your thoughts when he reaches over to refill your glass. he refills his own, covering the pot and leaving it to simmer as he turns to where you’re perched on the counter.

“i wanted to talk to you about something,” he says suddenly, sweating his glass down.

“hm?”

“i’m not above a few fantasies of my own.”

you almost choke on your wine. “gojo told you–”

he’s standing between your knees now, taking the glass from your hand and setting it aside. “i fantasize about you too.”

“you do?”

“i could tell you about them,” he suggests, voice dropping to a whisper as the tip of his nose nudges yours. “if you’re a good girl.”

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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noahsresources · 2 months

Text

IN CHARACTER CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT QUESTIONS .

send an emoji/series of emojis for my muse to answer any of the following questions in character! for some questions, there are fields italicized and bolded for you to fill in with the name of a person/place/event/etc in the muse's life. please remember to fill in these spaces in order for the question to make sense! each emoji is described in case you can't see them, and they are listed alphabetically. ♡

✈️ AIRPLANE — have you traveled anywhere that helped you discover something about yourself and/or about the world?

😠 ANGRY FACE — how easy or difficult is it for you to express your emotions? if you find it difficult, what do you think is holding you back?

🎨 ARTIST PALETTE — what are some hobbies that you like to partake in? do you think they're just to pass time or to distract yourself, or do you believe some of them potentially have therapeutic outcomes for you?

🎈 BALLOON — what is something you've created and/or accomplished recently that you're proud of?

🖤 BLACK HEART — what would you say is the darkest thought you've ever experienced? what do you think caused you to have that thought? have you ever planned on or fantasized about acting on it?

🏹 BOW AND ARROW — if there's something from your past that you'd give anything to go back in time and redo, what is it?

💔 BROKEN HEART — is there anyone in your life you wish you had a better relationship with? if so, how come? what makes this person important to you?

🎄 CHRISTMAS TREE — what is your favorite holiday and why?

🌙 CRESCENT MOON — what would you say is your current biggest dream and/or career aspiration and why?

❌ CROSS MARK — how would your life be different if [name of person] had never been in it? would it be better or worse?

⚔️ CROSSED SWORDS — do you have any skills that you are absolutely grateful you have and that mean a lot to you? how do you usually use these skills? would they come in handy if someone you cared about was in trouble?

🔮 CRYSTAL BALL — what is a core memory from your childhood that you think defines you today?

🗡️ DAGGER — what is something or someone you know you can't afford to lose? how far are you willing to go to make sure you don't lose it/them?

💧 DROPLET — are you grieving something or someone? do you feel like you lost something or a part of yourself with it/them?

😶‍🌫️ FACE IN CLOUDS — is there something you're hiding from the people you love? if so, how urgent is it for them to hear it? what's holding you back from sharing it?

🍂 FALLEN LEAVES — how would you metaphorically describe your life and the journey(s) you've been on?

👻 GHOST — is there someone or something that you feel is missing from your life? do you know if there's any way to find it/them?

🩶 GRAY HEART — what kind of friend do your friends consider you to be (mom friend, uncle friend, funny friend, etc) and why? what do you think this says about your personality?

🤝 HANDSHAKE — do family or platonic relationships mean more to you? or do they mean different things to you?

❤️‍🔥 HEART ON FIRE — what angers you the most? what triggers this anger, and how do you cope with it? what does this anger feel like, if you had to describe it?

💋 KISS MARK — if you had to share a romantic kiss with a loved one, where would you share that kiss and why? are you thinking about giving this romantic kiss somewhere other than the other person's lips?

✝️ LATIN CROSS — are you a religious person? did you grow up religious? does your faith mean anything to you today?

🩵 LIGHT BLUE HEART — what do you fantasize about the most often (generally/sexually/etc)? are there any people that are significant to or that you can see in this fantasy and why?

⚡️ LIGHTNING BOLT — how has [significant event in muse's life] impacted you? what has it made you realize about yourself? about others? about the world?

💄 LIPSTICK — have you had any romantic or sexual experiences that made you realize something about yourself?

🪄 MAGIC WAND — would you describe yourself as a superstitious person (someone who believes in superstitions)? do you believe in luck?

❤️‍🩹 MENDING HEART — how strongly do you experience your emotions? does it depend on who you're interacting with and/or the context of the situation?

🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what song lyrics do you think most accurately describe you? your journey through life? who you are as a person?

🫂 PEOPLE HUGGING — generally speaking, do you feel very supported by the people in your life? how strong and cohesive is your support system, if you have one? do you often feel like you're at the front of the line or pushed to the side by the people in your life?

❤️ RED HEART — what is/are your love language(s)? how do you use it/them to communicate your feelings about others?

💞 REVOLVING HEARTS — who and/or what are you most grateful for in your life?

🎀 RIBBON BOW — how confident are you with your physical appearance? is there anything about it that you are insecure about? is there anything about it that you are happy about or gives you confidence? how do you think people perceive you based on your physical appearance?

🧪 TEST TUBE — if you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what is one thing you absolutely have to resolve and/or do before then?

🤔 THINKING FACE — what three emotions tend to dominate your mindset? do you know why they do?

💭 THOUGHT BALLOON — is there something or someone you find yourself thinking about more often than other things? if so, why do you think you do this?

💀 SKULL — how has [name of person] 's death influenced your outlook on life, if anything?

☀️ SUN — would you describe yourself as more of an introvert or extrovert, or are you somewhere in between? how come?

🪽 WING — if you could choose to have one superpower for a day, what would it be and why? what would you do with it?

✍️ WRITING HAND — what is one thing you wish you were better at? this can be a tactical skill, social skill, hobby, etc.

#rp ask memes #rp ask meme #rp meme #rp memes #ask meme #ask memes #ask game #ask games #headcanon meme #headcanon memes #headcanon game #headcanons #memes #mine

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anantaru · 7 months

Text

DAY 3 — BIMBOFICATION

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

kink. bimbofication — the process of transforming into an airheaded slut, perfectly happy to be used and degraded

𖧡 — including — ayato, childe

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, bimbofication, degrading, rough & messy, slight possessive reader but only a little + they're possessive of you too lmao, name calling (fucktoy, bitch in heat, cocksleeve), petnames (angel, baby), both parties are consenting

𖧡 — AYATO

"angel.. my precious angel."

ayato slips a finger inside you, the dark outline of his silhouette mountainous on top of you, holding you captive, and he doesn't do anything besides gnashing on your jawline, until listlessly working his way down to your neck, taking your breath away when he glides the digit in and out effortlessly, then adding the second, gently working himself on your hole, imprinting his touch and trails on your walls, watching eagerly how you're engulfing him in with your cunt.

without any resistance making itself visible from your side, you appear to be enjoying this, a little too much— at the same time, you're such an adorable, precious toy to him, always clinging yourself around his arm whenever he was in near sight of you, your smirking lips puckered up into a dirty smile with a glossy film of sparkly lipgloss sleeving the flesh, day-dreaming about having the yashiro commissioner's heavy, piercing cock jamming your insides.

in any case, with how quick things were proceeding now, you love how the heel of his palm repeatedly humps your clit, the blows of it stinging at the puffy flesh before you arch your back into his hand, giggling within a clouded sigh, you're so excited to have his attention, grinning from ear to ear.

the drive ayato had on you, controlling, delightful trembles inching over the length of your spine when he calls you his precious, perfect fucktoy— the only one, you made sure of that.

when he tells you how utterly proud he was of you taking him so very well, especially when he can witness your eyes rolling back at the second of your cunt becoming so warm and constricting, it brings you to tears when listening to such loving words, being praised in such, "unique" way, where one might say it's not praise in any way, but for you, it's nothing but the most sugary, most tasteful expressing of approval to you.

it's easy once you gave yourself over to him, meaning his status and his power and made yourself his property, to that of someone being responsible to satiate the mans needs, conquer the aching pain in his groin whenever he was too busy or clocked up to do so himself. and the pleasure he made you experience, fuck, it reached the pit of a forming bubble, when he reaches into your walls with his slender fingers, your cunt clamping at the contract with the whistling in your head placing black dots on your vision.

yes, certainly— you realize then, you wanted to be treated like that.

forgetting about what others may whisper and gossip behind your back, why would you care, they might be just jealous for all you know— and for whatever reason ayato keeps you close to him, if there was a somewhat, deeper, connection or emotion he began to develop for you— baring in mind that he was the exact opposite of an outgoing player that pursued any women, only having you to touch and trace, fuck and kiss, it could possibly happen that somewhere in between his puzzling, swishing lines of thinking, kamisato ayato can work up the courage to feel something serious in regards to you, something contrasting to viewing you as this convenient toy, his darling cocksleeve, always there for his immediate use.

𖧡 — CHILDE

childe shushes your helpless mewls softly when he laps his tongue around the warm insides of your mouth, his cock taking advantage of your soft, weeping pussy, and how you're proudly presenting it all to him— just for him, you're his, in all respects, and he has trained you well, looking at how your toes curl when you greet him with a hazy, beclouded grin as you vibrate at his shaft moving along your soaked walls before pressing his tip against your g-spot.

"ohh- my, baby." childe groans, lecherous eyes gazing at your erotic body, "you're so good to me, when you let me fuck you like a bitch in heat." and he dominantly holds you up by your trembling knees, parting your pussy to accommodate the thudding stir of his length splitting you without a single care in this world, and every time he pulls himself balls deep into your hole, you gush and slick him up, making a mess of his girth and upper thighs, whimpering all wetly and perceiving how your cheeks are not only stained by your tears, but also flustered by his unique, scandalous choice of words.

but you wanted it that way, truly, being a harbingers personal belong, his little plaything you may say, as he liked to address you as well, it was intoxicating to be as slutty as possible to get his attention.

you can't help yourself but giggle out bubbly whenever he buys you something special too, an expensive gift— handled with delicate, tactful care, opening the package to find a silken lingerie-set that childe had personally picked out for you, barely awaiting the day where he can rip it off your perfect body, assuring you he'll purchase a new one in no time.

how come, you aren't even more riled up by now? your pretty pussy was so reactive to his length, easily affected by the largeness of his girth parting you for good, you're wet all day from the constant day dreams, drooling about childe's cock all day long, or about his hands grabbing and massaging your soft skin, how you knew how much he liked whenever you presented your exposed tits to him, vigorously massaging the nipples before pressing them against his chest.

"you feel good, hm?" ajax whispers into your ear, on the teetering edge of filling your womb with his seed, rolling his strong hips in and out of you before curving one palm around your cheek to force you to meet his gaze— yet your eyes were barely open, but that smile, it made him both shiver and admire your beauty, an expression so radiant on your lips that it startled even a harbinger.

"fuck, you're a mess." he licks his lips, and you foggily nod your head when he voices it out loud, helplessly hiccuping his name whilst grabbing on his chest to make him cling onto you and never let you go, well, not until he made you cum— your pussy being pillowed over by his cock bulging into you, indulging in the sensation of your soft, doused cunt slapping back against his groin, all wanting and desperate.

in spite of appearance, childe was aware that you were precisely into this manner of being treating, but in a sense, so was he, deep down believing that he’d never feel any satisfaction that could even scratch on the one you placed on him.

#genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #ayato x reader #ayato smut #childe smut #childe x reader #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles #kinktober #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #tartaglia x reader #kamisato ayato smut #kamisato ayato x reader #tartaglia smut

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heeheegf · 3 months

Text

Family’s friend- Lee H.

leeheeseungxfem!reader

heeseung and reader are “friends”, or better said, their families are friends. this up until they end up in the same room while being in a holiday all together.

warnings_ mention of smoking,cuss words, pet names,kissing,doggy position,fingering,breeding,aftercare,reader is very shy and innocent,heeseung is experienced.

reader is 18, heeseung is 23

minors DNI,mature content

i’ve written this at 2 a.m. so prolly there are some mistakes

“mom do i really have to share the room with him?” she says talking to her mother on the phone. “sweetie, we didn’t have anymore rooms available. this could be a way for you to become friends,right?” “yeah mom..” she glances at him across the room “anyway mom, i’m gonna take a shower now. talk to you later”. she hangs up the phone. she looks up again at him, this time he’s looking at her. she gets up and takes something from her bag. “do you wanna smoke heeseung?”, she says almost in a whisper. “yeah sure” he says as he stands up from the bed and walks out on the balcony.

they quietly sit outside, puffing on their cigarettes, but without even glancing at each other once. “do we really have to sleep on the same bed?” she breaks the silence “yup, no other room available according to our parents” he says, as she rolls her eyes. He chuckles and looks at her. "They did this in purpose you know? They're trying to make us get along…” he lets out an annoying laugh.” yeah whatever” "I think this time it'll work..." he says as he looks at her and blows smoke out of his mouth. “yeah no, i think i’ll pass” “c’mon, aren’t you excited to be rooming with me? you get the honour of staying in the same room as the amazing, talented, good looking heeseung.” he says jokingly in an exaggerated tone. “not even a little bit” she says with an annoyed face, “you’re so rude” he chuckles then blows smoke out of his mouth. “and you’re full of yourself” “it’s not my fault if it's true” he chuckles smugly “i mean look at me, i’m gorgeous.” “yeah and i’m ariana grande” he snickers “you're being dramatic. you can't deny how handsome i am." “keep dreaming heeseung” he laughs harder, noticing how mad she seems to be “you hate me and think I'm ugly... yet you still agreed to room with me. seem to me like you have a weird way of expressing your love for me." “i didn’t have a choice. i’d rather sleep on the floor than in the same bed with you” he chuckles “if you want, you could just sleep on me y’know~" he says teasingly. she makes a disgusted face as she seemed to be blushing a little bit. "so you think sleeping next to me is gross but you wouldn’t mind sleeping on the floor? i swear girls never make sense… or do you have a crush on me? is that why you hate me? because you don’t want to admit your feelings?" he says jokingly as she avoids his gaze and shakes her head. his smirk turns smug as he sees her avoiding eye contact. “ooo, someone is blushing~” “i..i’m not..” he moves slightly closer to her and touches her cheek, turning her face towards him. “oh yeah? it doesn’t look like that to me.” he says as his smirk deepens. his touch was gentle and warm, enough to make her melt under it. she looks at him, but not in the eyes. his look deep and gentle. he stares at her as he brings her chin up with his hand so that she wouldn't be able to escape. “uhm.. i think i’ll go inside, it’s getting kinda chilly”. his smirk becomes even more mischievous.”nah. stay here and let's talk about how you really feel” his voice was warm and soothing, he looked deep into her eyes. his eyes glowed. “i feel okay. i’m great” "you’re avoiding my question. tell me how you really feel about me..." he says as he keeps his eyes fixed on hers. his gaze was like a spell, it was hard to look away and the tension in the air was getting thicker. “you’re.. uhm.. a family friend..” he laughs “so that’s how you feel about me? i’m just simply a family friend? nothing more?" she nods still unable to keep eye contact. “well, maybe this could be the perfect chance to get closer, don’t you think?” he leans even closer to her, their faces almost touching. his breathing gets heavier as he looks at her, their eyes locked together. “i..” she tries to say, but he takes his hand and puts it gently on her mouth, stopping her from speaking. he leans even closer to her. “shh, don't speak just yet... don't you think we could be more than family friends? don’t you have the sudden urge to kiss me?". she shakes her head, obviously lying. he grabs her face gently with his hand and strokes her cheek, his thumb gently caressing her cheek. he leans in slowly and moves his lips slightly towards her, only a few millimetres away by now. the air was heavy with the scent of her breath and the anticipation of what was to come, so much that it was almost suffocating. “just let me kiss you~". she closes her eyes and waits for him to do something. his voice lowers as he whispers: "good girl~". his breath is hot on her lips. only fractions of a second were separating their lips. he was still leaning towards her, about to kiss her. and then, there they are. they lips meet softly.

seconds, minutes passes around them as they move their lips like a slow but sensual dance. her lips are tinted in a cherry color, same with her cheeks. his hair is messy cause of her slim fingers pulling it slowly. as she feels out of breath she slowly pulls herself away from the kiss. he smiles at her and chuckles after she pulled away. “see? i knew you wanted it.” he says teasingly. “i..” he grins smugly, leaning back on his seat. “you didn’t deny it." he looks at her, still grinning. “you must have a soft spot for me. that’s why you hate me so much, because of your feelings for me. just like every girl, you’re just so damn embarrassed to admit it. because to be honest, i never thought a girl like you would be so easily attracted to a guy like me.” she doesn’t answer, she just tries to look away from him. “just tell me the truth, i promise i won’t make fun of you or something” he says in a caring and sweet voice “i just know you don’t like me, you always tease me and annoy me..”. he laughs once again at her words. he can’t believe how stubborn she is. she was so clueless yet he had so much fun messing with her like this. “and how do you know that exactly? i could be into you but you just won’t admit that I am.” he’s joking, obviously, but his eyes stay fixed on hers as a playful grin spreads on his face. “like i said, you always tease me for everything” she looks at him. “yeah, and for some reason you always take it to heart, that’s why I keep doing it. come on though, you know the only reason why I’m messing with you is cuz I think you’re cute, right?”. she shakes her head, she can’t believe this is happening. she gets up and tries to leave but he grabs her hand to stop her from getting up. “where do you think you're going? what, you want to run away from your feelings? just face it and admit it already. come on, let me hear you say it.". she is very embarrassed right now “i.. like..” "you like? you like what?" he says, teasingly. his grip firm on her hand, he smiles back in satisfaction as he sees how his words made her speechless. “..you” "me? me what? you like me? is that it?" he leaned closer and stared at her. she nods her head as she’s too shy to speak. this gave him the permission to grab her by the arm and pull her back in the room. he gently pins her against the wall. he kisses her cheek, slowly getting closer to her ear where he starts playing her lobe with his tongue. “am i your first?” he whispers in her ear, just to kiss her lobe again. she just nods, she feels too speechless and embarrassed cause this is happening to her. his eyes glow as he sees her nod. he was enjoying teasing her like this. so innocent and naive, so gullible. he couldn't help but let out a smirk. “does that mean I'm gonna have to take things really slowly with you, huh?" “y-yes..”. his eyes glow as he stares into her eyes. his voice is soft and tender as he speaks. “how come you haven't had a boyfriend yet?" “they don’t really like me because i get shy and embarrassed easely”. he presses his nose on her neck as he slowly kisses it “well.. they don’t know what they are loosing right how”. “heeseung..” she looks at him in the eyes, looking for an approval to speak. “you are used to girls who have already fucked?” “yeah, pretty much” “so does this mean you don’t wanna fuck tonight, right?” “hm, why are you asking this? i thought it was pretty clear. but yes, i would like to, if you want to and if you feel ready and comfortable”. as she hears those words, she grabs him by the collar of the hoodie and kisses him. this kiss was different from the previous kiss. it’s more passionate, it feels like they are trying to eat each other. they are tasting each other’s tongues, exploring their mouths.

he slowly pushes her on the bed. as he’s towering on her, he trails sweet kisses on her neck then down to her chest where he stays for some seconds teasing her sensitive nipples. she tries to contain her moans, but this doesn’t suit well to him. “mh? why are you trying to be quiet baby? let me hear you, let me hear how good i’m making you feel”. he starts undressing her from every piece of clothing she has on. he removes her shorts, and proceeds to remove her panties to. after he’s done undressing her, he makes his way in between her thighs, teasing her wet core. “already so wet baby?” he says as he looks up at her, who has covered her eyes in embarassement. he rubs her puffy clit, fingers slipping through her folds, and teasing her hole. “please hee.. do something”. he smirks, and puts a finger in her aching core. she lets out a quite loud moan. just like that he keeps rocking his fingers, making her see stars. his fingers move faster and faster as he feels her getting closer. “hee, i’m gonna cum..” she says before shaking and twitching on his fingers. he slowly removes his fingers from her, to then proceeding to undressing himself. “baby, do you wanna do a plain missionary?” he asks before positioning himself. “n-no, i want it like this”. she rolls on her stomach and raises her ass upwards. he smirks as playfully slaps her bum. “you’re so naughty”. he positions himself between her legs before slowly putting his tip, then his whole length inside of her. she puts her head in between the pillows to suffocate the moans. he puts his hands on her hips and rocks them on his member. he stills tries to keep himself calm to not hurt her. but she keeps pushing her hips to his, trying to get some more. he notices, and grabs a hand full of her hair and pulls her up. “if you want more, just ask for it baby..” he says before starting to rail her up. she’s moaning (or should i say shouting) his name nonstop. she has her eyes closed, she’s panting, and she’s definitely enjoying it as she’s clenching on him. as the clenches get more frequent, he can feel she’s about to come. this time she doesn’t even say it, she just twitches and her moans get higher in pitch. he cums in her, and after a few thrusts he pulls himself out, watching his hot cum slipping out of her.

she falls out of breath on the bed, followed by him. “you did so good baby for your first time” he says as he pulls her closer to his chest. he keeps stroking her hair, telling her how good she did. he hugs her until he feels she has fallen asleep in his arms. finally he is with the girl he has always loved ever since they were kids.

hii babes, this is my first story. i hope you liked it. lmk if there are some mistakes, and send any asks if you’d like to see me writing something else. kisses

-sasa🫶🏻

#lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #lee heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen heeseung

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harmoonix · 4 months

Text

Chill astro notes

🔶 People need to stop blaming one specific sign when they get cheated/hurt/etc.. in love, let's use Sag Venus for this example, a lot of people blame Sagittarius Venus for being "cheaters" but truly that doesn't mean anything, because first you need to do a synastry chart instead of reading your partners chart. Synastry chart is at least 85% on the fault why some things don't work in a relationship astrologically talking.... Not the signs from their actual birth charts

🔶 - I personally love the dynamic of Venus in the 3rd/5th/7th/11th houses, because it shows how much love they hold for their freinds and how to share it together, for some of natives this aspect can also mean that you can have friends to lovers kind of thing or your lover can be your best friend

🔶 - I have a friend with Mars in the 6th house and he literally can't stay still. He always needs to do something, i guess the natives are full of energy and don't want to take a break..

🔶 - Capricorn Placements can end up to be workaholic, it's good to work if that gives you satisfaction, but most times a break is really needed because you're human after all

🔶 - I honestly believe that Saturn with Pisces Degrees 12°, 24° have it hard when it comes to sleeping time, they can either have problems with sleep either with not sleeping enough

🔶 - The time when you'll have your Saturn return, which happens at least 2 times in a human life, it happens to be your most challenging/transformative years of your life because it will be the year where you'll need a lot of patience to go over the test of Saturn

🔶 - I always think about how life must have been in the 1960's cus' Uranus was in Leo at that time (precisely in 1962), it must have been something totally taken out of control

🔶 - Neptune aspecting Juno asteroid (3) can end up to dream about their soulmate or future spouse, if you don't dream then probably you'll receive some signs from the universe that you'll met someone

🔶 - Moon in the 6th/8th/10th/12th house > In case no one told you, I hope you have it good and without any stress or bad thought, you'll win all your battles

🔶 - People with Lilith - Sun aspects could have been judged a lot in the past, but you need to stay like yourself no matter what because you don't have to change based on others opinion.

🔶 - On the other hand. Lilith harshly aspecting Moon don't give a single f about others opinion, you can say whatever they want and they would not care at all. Because they live for themselves

🔶 - Taurus Sun/Moon/Rising are actually very posesive, some of them can be more than Scorpios. But one thing about them is that they know how to hide it good enough so people don't observe that

🔶 - Aquarians claim to not get jealous easy, but you can see it on their face when they're jealous or possesive, or CLINGY they have it easier with their face expressions

🔶 - Nobody loves nature more than Earth suns, earth is their own heaven and special place, now you'll probably say "well they have the earth element!" It's actually because their love and humanitarian side to love the earth this much, makes them into this

🔶 - Aquarius Placements especially Sun/Moon/Rising they are not weird as people say, the thing is nowadays... it's popular to be like some celebrities so people forgot to be their true selves, Aquarius is the sign of difference, don't let people tell you otherwise

🔶 - If your 6th house ruler is badly aspected you can have complications with your health. For example if your 6H house ruler is Saturn or Pluto you can get sick easier than others

🔶 - I want to believe that Pluto - Moon aspects can learn a lot of things from their mother. To learn for her mistakes so they won't do the same thing again and again, which is a very good thing because less families will have generational curses to break, I mean... go girl break that curse

🔶 - Natives with South Node - Jupiter aspects may want to know more about their past. Because Jupiter wants to expand this curiosity about their past lives

🔶 - I feel like 4th house natives really really really like to give hugs to comfort others, and its truly something very sweet because nowadays the world turned into a dark stage and people forgot what kindness means

🔶 - All people get hurt when they're betrayed but for natives with the Sun or Moon in the 11th house may take it too deep and they cannot accept that they were betrayed.

🔶 - Pisces Sun/Moon/Rising/Venus love/like to watch a lot dramas with love, or is just me who saw that? I know so many people with those placements who like to watch love dramas

🔶 - 9th house is so less talked about and honestly is a very underrated house because is the house of luck and blessings.. yet people don't talk enough about it

🔶 - Neptune in the 8H/9H houses can get obsessed with crystals, and tarot too..they mostly adore witch things just like Neptune in those houses act like a little witch

🔶 - If you have placements/planets at 1° in your birth chart, you can change things on your own, because is the power of the magician tarot card who gives this energy

🔶 - Sag Placements love to hang out quite often, they're always for "let's go in this place" mostly because they're very curious souls who want to gain experience and memories

🔶 - If you have Vertex - Juno (3) in good aspects probably you're fated to met a good person who can change your life into better, it's actually sweet

🔶 - Gemini Rising/Gemini Sun/Gemini in the 5th house can get praised for their hands/ these natives are having really good looking hands and people appreciate that

🔶 - It's something I still study about but does it happen for Sun in Capricorn natives to have things like birth marks on their skin? Because Capricorn can rule over skin too and most people with Cap Sun that I know have marks on their skin (like a birth mark)

Check this out:

It shows what body parts all these signs rule over

🔶°🔶°🔶°🔶°🔶°🔶°🔶°🔶°🔶°🔶°🔶°🔶°🔶°

With all the love and light, yours truly ❤️🔶❤️

Harmoonix ❤️

#astrology #astro observations #birth chart #astro notes #astrology observations #placements #astro community #horoscope #ascendant #venus #astrology fyp #chill #chill aesthetic #fyp2023 #tumblr fyp

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fatuismooches · 1 year

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OH NY GOD THE CHILDHOOD CRUSH CONCEPT BUT WITH DOTTORE 😭😭IF THAT'S OKAY?? reader is the only one who was interested in his endeavors and helped, so probably they're just as bad as him so they're partners in crime 👉👈 he's gotta have done experiments on then but they were never painful, only for them fr

♡ 𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 ♡

synopsis: When you were a child, there was a peculiar boy who seemed to never have any friends, alienated away from the others. Perhaps you could be his first one.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: Yes yes yes, I love this! This is so very cute, thank you and I hope you enjoy this! The use of Dottore's real name, Zandik, is used mostly in this because, well... that's what he was called as a child. (And to be honest, if you're dating any of the Harbingers you have to be somewhat... you know. And I think pre-Fatui Dottore would be different when it comes to affection and such... so yea. Subby Dottore I guess?)

Childhood was something you cherished growing up in Sumeru. The pursuit of knowledge, the Akademiya, being a scholar, was something that was drilled into the heads of the young ones even from an early age. But when you were a child, you had the freedom to actually live, the ability to dream, to have fun, to run around and play freely without having to worry about all that boring stuff. So needless to say, you made sure to spend every second of your childhood the way you wanted as much as you could. You were going to have as much fun as possible! Perhaps that was why the rumors about the teal-haired boy did not make you waver in your pursuit to befriend him too much.

Despite the child being your neighbor, you didn’t really know much about Zandik, but what you did know was that Zandik’s mother was a kind woman. She always waved hi to you when you saw her and made small talk with you. Besides that, you never really thought about it further until your friends brought it up one day.

“That lady really seems to really like you, [Name].”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, she’s always nice to me. She even makes me Pita Pockets sometimes!”

“Her child is too creepy though,” your friend complained. You were taken aback by their statement.

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

“Zandik’s always just been weird. That’s why no one ever plays with him. I heard that he always wants to do these weird… um, experiments I think. There are other rumors too, but I just know the way he acts is just bizarre.”

“I feel bad for her,” another one of your friends chipped in. “It must be hard to deal with such a freak. Aren’t you his neighbor, anyway? Don’t you know this?”

You just frowned and shrugged your shoulders. You didn’t really like the way they spoke about Zandik. Surely he couldn’t be as bad as they made him out to be. Maybe he was just an introvert?

Then again, you barely ever saw Zandik before. He never played with anyone, never spoke to anyone, hell, you didn’t even know if he left his house. The most often you saw him was when you happened to be walking by and caught a glimpse of him through the windows. He always quickly moved away when he was spotted though.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. Just try to stay away from him, [Name].” You nodded your head, but your mind was already made up. You were determined to find out how bad Zandik actually was.

—

You did say you were going to befriend him, but you soon realized you were not sure how to go about it. You had never met someone like him before, so your choices were limited. The easiest thing you could think of was waiting near his room’s window. It was a bit embarrassing hiding behind a tree, seemingly waiting for nothing, but soon enough you saw him take a seat near the glass. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but he looked very focused on it, and you were a bit mesmerized for a second, as this was your first real look at him. But you soon snapped out of your daze and came out from behind the tree.

“Heyyyy!” You yelled, jumping up and down, attracting his attention. Zandik’s shoulders jumped for a second at the noise, and when he looked up, he was greeted by your figure on the ground. Your expression brightened when you noticed he saw you and began to wave your hands, mouthing something he couldn’t hear clearly.

Zandik was stunned. If he recalled correctly, you were the person who lived next door. He saw you occasionally but of course, did not care much about you. So why were you here? Were you standing there the whole time? What did you want? His active mind produced many questions, but in the end, he knew what you were. Your intentions could not be different from the other children.

The boy looked at you incredulously for a moment before getting up. Your smile grew wider, oh, was he going to open the window and say something? But then he pulled his curtains shut on you, blocking your sight into his room completely. Damn it.

Well, that failed terrifically, but it was a bit stupid now that you thought of it. You sat down against a tree and tried to think of your next plan, unaware of the now slightly drawn curtain and curious red eyes peeking out of it.

—

Any other ideas you tried had failed, and you were not sure what to do. You had become aware that he was closed off, unwilling to interact with you or any others. But this had only made you far more interested in him. So, you had only one plan left - to go directly to the person who could tell you all. And so you knocked on the front door of his house, revealing a familiar face.

“Oh? Hello, my dear! What a pleasant surprise to see you, [Name]. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Hi, ma’am. You see, I, um, have a request. I need help with something.”

“Well, I’ll certainly do my best to help you then,” Zandik’s mom affirmed.

“I want to see Zandik,” you said bluntly, shocking the woman for a second. “I want to befriend him and talk to him.”

“I-I see. It’s not every day another child comes and asks for my son. He is a… peculiar case, after all, and he doesn’t like speaking to other people. Are you sure about this?”

“Please, I really do want to be his friend,” you said resolutely. Her face softened and she relented.

“Alright, my dear. I know he usually frequents this spot…” the woman gave in and gave you directions to where Zandik apparently spent much of his time.

As you made your way there, you were a bit in awe of how he managed to find such a place. You never knew this route existed until now. Soon, after a bit of trekking, you found an opening that boasted lush grass and smooth stones, with trees surrounding it in a circle. It was quite pretty. And then that was when you saw Zandik in the middle, his teal hair matching the greenery. For a moment, you pondered over how to approach him, but you did not need to think long since he spoke first.

“How did you manage to find this place?” His voice echoed throughout the clearing, letting you know that you were spotted. You tentatively took a few more steps closer, his small body getting bigger.

“I asked your mom,” you began, “and she told me I could find you over here.” He let out a sigh.

“Admittedly, I did not expect you to go to such drastic lengths. You are more persistent than the lot of them,” Zandik acknowledged, though still not looking up from the rather complicated and thick book he was reading. Then, he snapped it shut and stood up.

“So, what is the reason for your tireless pursuit? Perhaps you’ve come to ridicule me? Or are you here to see whether the rumors are genuine? Do tell, I am truly curious as to what would warrant such an extended hunt.”

You were a bit stunned at that whole statement, but you only had one thing to reply with. “I mean… it’s none of those. I just want to become your friend.”

A moment of silence passed before a chuckle broke it. Then, full-out laughter rang out, echoing throughout the forest. It was almost maniacal, and you couldn’t lie that it kind of scared you a bit, but you bit your lip and remained calm.

“Aha, hehe, why, I have not heard that one yet. How creative. I must say, they are getting better at these.” After that little outburst, Zandik returned to his previous sitting position and became absorbed in his book again. You were honestly unsure of how to react to that. Did the other kids truly pick on him that much, for him to think another wanting to become his friend was a lie? You stood there unmoving until Zandik spoke again in a dismissive tone.

“You can go now. It was amusing while it lasted,” he said disinterestedly, waving his hand. You were dumbfounded but determined, so you answered back very simply.

“No. No, I won’t leave,” you declared so firmly that the boy stiffened.

“No?”

“Yes, in fact, I’m going to come over there right now. You know I wasn’t joking in the first place?” you said rather calmly, trying to seem as serious about this as possible, taking steps toward him.

He scowled, his attention drawn from his book once again. “No, you won’t. You won’t dare to come near me,” he stated just as firmly, having recalled how the other children wouldn’t even look at him. You grinned and picked up your pace until you were only a couple of footsteps away from him, and that was when he truly realized you were not joking. Zandik hastily tried to get up to avoid you but you dashed towards him, nearly tripping as you lowered yourself to a squatting position, becoming face to face with him.

You leaned in close to Zandik’s face, your nose almost touching his. His unique, red eyes held annoyance and a variety of other negative emotions, but there was something foreign in there too, which was the reason he didn’t pull away - confusion and curiosity. You smiled.

“Well now, hopefully you finally get it into that head of yours that you are now my friend. So, why don’t you tell me about what you’re reading?”

At first, he vehemently denied your friendly advances. He’d mock you, roll his eyes at you and such, or flat-out ignore you which was what he usually did. Zandik was honestly not very welcoming, which you began to expect at a certain point. But you persisted nonetheless. You followed him around no matter where he tried to go. You’d sit close to him but not too close. You’d speak sometimes and would either be met with silence or a sarcastic remark but you began to somewhat enjoy it. You’d stretch your neck to try and read the books he always brought with him in an attempt to better understand him. Though, the day he put the book on the ground so it could be read by both of you was the day you knew you won.

Zandik would always tell you not to come back, but you always came back of course. He’d roll his eyes and scoff at your tenacity, but you came to realize that he liked it. After all, he could very well just go to another hiding place, or arrive at a completely different time if he truly didn’t want to see you. He’d never admit it, but he warmed up to you. You also learned that Zandik really liked to talk. At first, when you would ask him questions about science, he wouldn’t respond but you could see him biting the inside of his lip, restraining himself from going on a tangent. It was the first time anyone had shown any real interest in him. Zandik would ramble on about many, many things, often transferring to a new topic in the blink of an eye. Even when he spoke about less-than-pleasant things, he looked to you all excitedly to hear your thoughts. When it came to those kinds of topics you satiated him with a smile, but you always voiced your thoughts as much as possible which pleased him greatly.

Eventually, you started to invite Zandik over to your house. His mom was positively ecstatic and encouraged this behavior. And yet you didn’t do what typical children did. He wanted to do experiments. Which did not really surprise you after everything was done and said. Despite being your age, he always spoke in such an… advanced way. It was hard to describe, but he always employed these big terms and used such proper grammar and language, something that was very uncharacteristic for a child. And experimented he did. Zandik’s experiments were not limited to mixing and combining different elements but also extended to you, somehow. He wanted a strand of your hair, your eyelash, a paper with your fingerprints all over it. What he used these for, you didn’t know.

Your own parents were scholars, so even though you didn’t see them very much, they left a multitude of advanced books and texts in the house. While you had never cared for them much, Zandik devoured them with ease. Even though you invited him to your house to talk and play together, there were times he’d just take one of the books and read for the whole time, shushing you whenever you tried to speak. You had to settle for simply sitting next to him and trying to follow along, which he… surprisingly did not mind. Under his breath, he’d mutter phrases like “Khaenri’ah” and “Visions” and “ruin machines” which frankly did not make much sense to you, but you always happily entertained him.

One day, Zandik wanted to go somewhere deep in the forest. You had played around there a couple of times, but you had never entered into the depths of it, heeding the warnings of danger from the adults. Naturally, you were a bit worried and scared, but you knew that Zandik would enter with or without you, for there was no length he wasn’t willing to go to cure his curiosity. Though he would not tell you why you were making this journey, you followed him nonetheless, until you reached an area with many damaged stones and pillars. As to how he found this location, you didn’t question it.

“There it is,” Zandik said almost breathlessly. You were confused at first but then you followed his line of sight, and then you saw it. A Ruin Guard sat on the ground, unmoving. Your jaw dropped as you had never seen one of them before, only hearing about their destructiveness from others and in books.

“So you came here to look at that?”

“Indeed. But we are not merely going to look. I’m going to investigate it.”

“Huh?! But what if it awakens and attacks us?” Even though the two of you were a good distance away, you could easily tell the Ruin Guard dwarfed your tiny bodies by a great amount.

“From what I’ve read and heard, it should be deactivated. There is no need to worry,” Zandik affirmed.

“What do you mean by ‘should be’- hey, wait up!” Before you could finish your sentence, your friend had already made his way toward the Ruin Guard. You scrambled to catch up with him and soon enough you two were close to the robot. Both of you stood there for a bit, just taking in the sight until Zandik couldn’t hold back and approached the Automaton, circling around it, clearly fascinated.

Clink.

The two of you stiffened at the sound.

“Zandik… did you hear that?” He did not respond, but soon enough your question was answered as the eye of the Ruin Guard beamed awake.

Zandik could only stare in amazement as the complex machine glowed and lit up back to life. You were momentarily shocked but you quickly regained your senses and grabbed his hand to get away from there, because you two would be dead in a couple of seconds if you didn’t move. You had to literally drag him because the machine had him in an astonished stupor.

“I thought you said it was DEAD?!?!” you practically screamed at him as the Ruin Guard lowered itself to shoot missiles at you both. You managed to hide the two of you behind a small stone wall as the projectiles hit that instead. “And snap out of it!!”

“I suppose I have miscalculated.”

“You suppose?” Your voice had quieted down so as to not bring back the attention of the robot, which was now walking around the area since it had lost sight of you. “We need to leave before it spots us again.”

“No,” he disagreed. “We’ll incapacitate it ourselves.” It took you a few seconds to process what Zandik said to you.

“Are you crazy? Ah, never mind that. I already knew you were from a long time ago. But this is something far from our level!”

“I believe that we would be able to disable it.”

“Trained adventurers have died from that thing,” you insisted.

“We aren’t adventurers. We are better than them.”

“We’re children,” you deadpanned.

“Two intelligent children,” Zandik corrected you. For a second you were shocked that he called you smart, as you did not expect that sudden compliment. You always considered him the brains and you were… the supporter from the sidelines. “Furthermore, I have a plan.”

You sighed and rubbed your temples. “Fine… what is it?”

“It is quite simple. First, you will hit the eye of the Ruin Guard twice to stun it, and while it’s knocked out, I will remove the core to deactivate it.”

“...Yeah. So simple, Zandik,” you said sarcastically. “And how do you suppose I manage to hit its eye? It’s extremely tall and my aim is nowhere that good.”

“I would not have brought up this idea if I did not think you were that incapable. You are quite useful to me,” he said straightforwardly. Boy, did Zandik have a very odd way of cheering you up.

“I… well, okay then. And you know how to get the core out of it?”

“I’ve read multiple passages of these machines in textbooks. I assume I have enough knowledge to do so.”

“I’m not going to even say anything. You owe me a play date after all of this,” you pouted. Zandik rolled his eyes begrudgingly.

“I suppose I can engage in your nonsensical childish activities when all of this is over. But just for an hour,” he proclaimed. You gleefully smiled, pleased to have won him over.

You didn’t care much for the Archons or Gods but you suppose they must have been watching over you because you eventually managed to stun it. Keyword: eventually - after whole minutes of running around dodging missiles and picking up random stones along the way, while Zandik sat there waiting for the right moment. You swear he was laughing at you. And true to his word, the young boy dismantled the machine’s core, rendering it unable to operate.

“Wow… I can’t believe we actually did that,” you mentioned, still in awe of it all.

“Of course we did. I would expect or accept nothing less. Now, come here. We have work to do.”

Somehow he had brought along small tools to try and dissemble the Ruin Guard. The red-eyed boy’s intelligence had always amazed you. Although it may seem boring to others, watching him fiddle was quite interesting for you. Zandik had also apparently appointed you as his assistant without informing you until now, so you always sat next to him. You made sure to keep an eye on what he did, for sometimes he would put his hand out and expect you to pass him a tool or screw without saying anything. At the end of the day, at least you could say the two of you had feats that no other child could claim to have accomplished.

It had gotten to the point where Zandik constantly wanted your presence around him, claiming that it would do you well to join him since you had nothing better to do. (He just didn’t want to admit he craved your attention and company.) You had accepted this with no complaints, having enjoyed spending time with him far more than your other friends. But you couldn’t deny that your friends were somewhat right about their thoughts towards Zandik - he cared little for others’ lives or feelings, was interested in things others would find disturbing, and even as a child you could tell he was not too right in the head. And yet his morals being concerningly low despite still being a kid, you could not bring yourself to care much. Heh, perhaps he was starting to influence you too.

Many years had passed since the two of you were little kids. Zandik had grown into a handsome, young, man. His mother was no longer in the picture, but the two of you were still together despite it all. And as much as you wanted to end your story off with a cliche everything was well, nothing could be farther from the truth. The atmosphere of your hometown had begun to grow tense. Why, you ask? Because of Zandik. The villagers had always not been the kindest to him, never fond of his rather strange ideas, though Zandik usually brushed it off with disinterest. But as he grew older, it seemed that the town’s dislike for him grew as well. And while you were a bit worried for him, you weren’t too concerned. You were sure the two of you would leave the place one day anyway. No way in your wildest dreams did you think you’d look outside your window and see people waving around pitchforks and clubs. And if that wasn’t bewildering enough, they were pointed toward Zandik.

You never scrambled to your feet and out the door so fast in your life, rushing to your dear friend’s side. His expression was unreadable when he saw you.

“Hey. Hey! What is this all about, huh?” you demanded to the crowd.

“He has to go. He is no longer a child, and so we no longer have any reason to have to harbor him here. He is a threat to this town,” someone spat.

“He’s never even hurt you,” you argued. “He never laid a hand on any of you. It was rather you who did that!” You think you heard Zandik whisper your name quietly.

“He’s a heretic,” another voice hissed. “He and his ideas do not belong here.” The clattering of pitchforks pitched in to agree. Zandik remained silent.

You gritted your teeth. You could see there was no point in arguing anymore. “Fine. Fine then. We didn’t even like it here anyway,” you fumed. In your spur of anger, you clasped your friend’s hand and practically dragged him in the opposite direction, blocking out the boos and mockery from the rest of the town.

Surprisingly, Zandik did not say a word throughout your little journey to who knew where, until you had to take a break from the sheer exhaustion. Embarrassingly, you had to release his hand that you had kept hostage the whole time, but Zandik seemed far less perturbed than you. Perhaps he saw it coming, with how assured his next statement was.

“We shall attend the Akademiya.” Out of all the possible things he could have said, you did not expect that one for some reason.

“The A-Akademiya?”

“Yes,” Zandik said quite simply.

“I mean, it’s not a bad idea but… the people there might be…” You did not finish your sentence, but you were referring to how the place could have a good amount of judgmental “scholars.”

He laughed bitterly. “After this morning, I highly doubt anything they do shall ever bother me.” You did not know what words would console him, so the only thing you offered was an agreeing nod and your silent presence.

“They did not exile you, [Name],” he said all of a sudden.

“It doesn’t matter. Getting rid of you would be the same thing as getting rid of me. I wouldn’t stay in a place where you aren’t,” you shrugged simply, placing your pinky over his own.

Zandik did not respond, but he didn’t move away.

—

The Akademiya was… an experience, for sure. It was many things all at once, the different Darshans and the beautiful architecture, the great looming trees. And the dorms were far nicer than you expected. At least they were spending their funds decently enough. So, the two of you settled into the scholarly life relatively easily. Zandik easily climbed to the top of his classes in no time, quickly garnering the attention of others and then losing it equally as fast when they encountered his prickly personality. There were always gossip and rumors floating about, many of which proclaimed Zandik to be a madman and a monster. And while he rarely ever showed any expression to these words, besides perhaps a roll of the eyes and chuckle or a scoff, you wondered if it really did bother him. As such, everyday life for you was being known as the normal person who hung out with the weirdo.

But, the years spent in the institution were ones you cherished deeply. You were close with your friend for many years, but perhaps staying together in such close quarters deepened the relationship. The two of you would sneak out after hours to do whatever Zandik demanded to be done. You were a bit iffier about breaking rules, but Zandik was firm on not letting anyone hold him back in his pursuit, so you began to think less of it. Many nights would pass by with the two of you staying up until unreasonable hours, whether it was studying together (or more like Zandik helping you study), or listening to him ramble on about his latest ideas and inventions. The strangest times were when he made you stay up despite not speaking at all. You would blink through bleary eyes as he remained silent, the only noise the clinking of bolts and nuts. In your heart, you liked to think he just liked your presence.

But the day you found out Zandik was to be expelled from the Akademiya was one you’d never forget. You knew he had a tendency to act without permission, to turn off others with his radical ideas, so perhaps you shouldn’t have been surprised. You also had some knowledge of what happened in his expeditions with the team - almost everyone did, considering what happened with that girl - and you knew deep down what her true cause of death was. And Zandik knew that you knew too; you could feel it unspoken in his eyes when the subject matter was brought up briefly. You knew you were too far gone when you accepted it. But still, him being expelled was still a shocker. Yet the only thing he bemoaned was losing his space to work.

“It is quite literally your last night in this dorm and you’re sad about losing your progress on your experiments?” Actually, now that you thought about it, it was quite a Zandik thing to think.

“It was the only good thing about this place,” he shrugged. “It is too bad. I shall have to find somewhere else now.”

“They’re going to exile you to the desert, aren’t they?” you frowned. “That’s what they do with the expelled and mad scholars, no?” He nodded in agreement.

“You can’t go. You won’t be able to continue your kind of research there,” you argued.

“And what do you propose? That we fight them?”

“Yes! I’ll fight them! I’d ambush them or something!” you knew you sounded crazy by now but you couldn’t help it. The idea of no longer being with your childhood friend was tearing you in half. “You know, the matra stationed there keeps an eye on all of the scholars who were exiled there, in order to keep them in check. Even if you managed to escape, it won’t be easy to survive in such conditions and they could find you,” you insisted.

“Good thing you’re so eager to fight,” he chuckled. You knew what he was thinking when he laughed like that. “I have a plan.”

You raised your eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Did you really think I’d go in there without preparation?” he scoffed. “In due time, I shall find a way to contact you.”

You sighed. “Alright, just… let me know who I have to fight later,” you responded. “And…” you trailed off, not knowing if you should verbalize your true worried feelings. He seemed to notice, and he contemplated, trying to figure out what to say.

“You need not worry about me, [Name]. We both shall be fine.” The words felt foreign on his tongue, as they were things he would never say. But he did anyway.

And that was the last you saw of Zandik. But unbeknownst to either of you, he would be visited by a special man - the first Harbinger.

—

You stood outside on the small balcony, gazing down at Sumeru’s city. You had managed to nab one of the dorms with the platform, much to the dismay of the other scholars. The two of you always loved seeing them fume, as they had to take their star gazing elsewhere. Neither you nor Zandik had cared much for the stars, but admittedly it was just… nice to feel the wind blow.

Sleep had escaped you ever since Zandik left. Not hearing the usual metal clink and unscrewing noises, soft grunts, and occasional chair shifting from Dottore had left you unsettled and bothered. You had begun to think about whether you should continue to stay in the Akademiya. Zandik was no longer here, and the place crawled with rumors and gossip regarding him. You weren’t so popular anymore either, as the whispers even extended to you, his roommate who people began to question if you were truly innocent.

You had been feeling a bit lost in general since Zandik had been expelled. You were fully aware of the heinous things he had committed. You had come to terms that he was a criminal, and you were accomplice of sorts as well. Actually, the moment you decided to associate yourself with him was the moment you became not so good of a person. But that wasn’t what bothered you. What bothered you was Zandik’s absence.

Any normal person would have called you absolutely crazy for desiring such a madman’s presence. And you couldn’t blame them. They were right. Yet your heart could not let go of the man who you stuck with since childhood. You could not let go of the boy who scowled and doubted your intentions at first, the boy who eventually warmed up to you, the boy who demanded you be his test subject and assistant at the same time, the man who tutored you in science and maths and everything else, the man who stayed up to ungodly hours to tinker.

The man who you fell in love with.

The revelation was enough to make your knees weak, and suddenly the cold air was too much for your warming body. Quickly, you locked the doors to the balcony and stumbled onto your bed, rubbing your temples at this acknowledgment. Archons, how stupid were you? You were in love with someone whose character was… words you could not describe. Though you knew it all along. You just were scared to admit it. You internally cursed Zandik for doing this to you, as you knew you were too late to say anything. Not that you’d have a chance though, considering his whole outlook. He’d think that love was for fools only, a waste of time when he could pursue more fruitful endeavors. So all of this only caused you to miss him so terribly much more.

You missed his eyes - such a unique red that could only be compared to the one that flowed through living beings. You missed his hair - the softness that you only felt once, when you gently caressed the locks when you thought he was sleeping, but he grabbed your wrist so quickly it nearly scared the living daylights out of you. You missed his sharp and smart tongue that could put someone into their place in a matter of seconds. You missed everything about him.

But you shouldn’t sulk. No - you would not brood. If he was here, he’d probably be reprimanding you for being distracted when there was so much left to do. Sooner or later, you knew in your heart you would see him again and-

Knock-knock.

You bolted up at the series of knocks. Were you hearing things? Surely no one would be at your door this hour of the night. Did Zandik make you delusional now?

Knock-knock-knock.

Nope, you still had some of your sanity left. You swung your feet off the bed, about to head towards the door when a rather strange shadow blurred across the floor. It looked oddly like… a figure… at your balcony… Your heart pounded as you convinced your head to look up.

Zandik was on your balcony. How he managed to get up so many stories of the building, you had no clue. No longer did he don the Akademiya’s uniform, but clothes that were rather nice and expensive looking. It seemed your stupor lasted longer than his liking as he tapped impatiently on the glass door and pointed towards the lock.

Well, it seemed your reunion with him was happening sooner rather than later, that’s for sure. Quickly you scrambled to open the door and pull your beloved inside.

“Z-Zandik,” you sputtered, not believing your eyes. “I- what- how are you here? Did anyone see you? You have to leave, they’re going to catch you!” You fumbled over your words, fighting with the happiness of seeing your friend again but also concerned about him being caught. “What happened with the plan? What happened in the desert? What are you wearing? How did you-?”

Zandik quickly shut you up by tapping his newly gloved finger on your lips. “You must not speak so loudly. But you are correct, we do not have much time.”

“You’re r-right,” you agreed, lowering your tone. “But I just need at least some kind of explanation. Why and how did you come back…?”

“The Fatui has recruited me.”

“The Fatui?” you echoed softly, trying to remember what that was. A few seconds of thinking and remembering the daunting masked men and women who carried around weapons caused you to snap back to life. “The Fatui?!” you whisper-yelled. “Those scary people who always eyed us up when went into the forest and stuff?! I- ah, I won’t even question it anymore. Just… go on.” Zandik smirked at your halting.

“They have provided me with sufficient equipment and a space to work. We no longer have any reason to stay at this ignorant institution,” he declared. “And, from now on, I am to be called Dottore, a new Harbinger.”

“Dottore?” you repeated. “How clever,” you snorted at the irony of the name. “And… what do you mean by ‘we’?” your voice got quieter towards the end.

“I mean what I said. You shan’t stay here any longer.”

You already knew you were following him, but your chest twinged due to your recently newfound feelings. What if you somehow turned out to be a nuisance for him? Eternally distracted by this foolish love?

“Oh really? And what makes you think I’d follow you so easily?” You don’t think he was expecting you to say that. He cleared his throat.

“I’ve already made it clear to the Jester I shall not work without a competent assistant. There is only one person who has proven themselves to be capable. I will not settle for anyone else,” Zandik stated resolutely. “And,” he paused, uncharacteristically unsure of how to voice what he wanted to say next. He had always been a man who would proclaim the most damning ideas with no remorse. Yet he had trouble formulating his thoughts because of you.

“You are… infuriating,” he began, making you raise your eyebrow. How charming of him. “Since that day in the forest, I knew you were going to be vexing. You would not bend to anything I said, would not leave me alone no matter the methods I used. Infuriating,” he repeated.

“But,” he very cautiously raised his hand to hover near your cheek, just barely making contact, “I never thought I’d become so… accustomed to you. I remember your habits and likes just as much as I remember those formulas you hated so. It’s laughable to think that almost all of my memories have you there somehow.”

“You are irking, but without your presence, I am strangely irritated myself, which is far more of a hindrance than I would have ever anticipated. Without you, I find my mind wandering - it is like nothing I have experienced before,” he finally cupped your cheek with hesitance, as if he himself was in disbelief at his own actions.

“I have known you almost all my life, yet I seem to still need more time to truly figure you out. I am not merely speaking as a scholar, but as… me,” he finished. Now, that was the last thing you expected from a man such as him. But he quickly regained his composure as he asked you the final question.

“Now,” he concluded. “What say you?” For all his talk of bravado and confidence, his hesitant show of affection revealed all the vulnerability that you desired to see and gave you the answer you needed. You placed your own hand over his one on your cheek, maintaining eye contact with him as he stiffened at the feeling of your skin against his, even if it was clothed. You moved closer to Zandik, until your chests were nearly touching.

Zandik knew what you were going to do. Although the thought of such affection usually made him… ill and annoyed, he could not help but think that the feeling would be different if you were the one initiating. How would his body react? Would he enjoy it? Would he want to do it again?

You moved closer to his face, and without hesitation, you kissed him. Zandik was rigid, the foreign sensation of another’s lips against him was completely unfamiliar to him. But it seemed that the answer to his questions was a resounding ‘yes.’ You pulled away from him, trying to gauge his expression. You did not know too much about kissing, but you knew your newly found lover understood even less, which spurred you to continue.

Running your hands down his firm arms, you leaned in again to nip and suck at his neck, drawing out a shudder from Zandik. He felt intoxicated by you all at once. He would be sure to write some notes on this later… they would be needed for further… research and experimental trials. He nuzzled his face into your soft locks, silently encouraging you to continue your course of action, eager to indulge in it with as much excitement as he would indulge in forbidden knowledge.

But then you released him with a pop of your lips. “Well, let’s not get too carried away,” you teased. “Wouldn’t want your new subordinates seeing you like this, hmm?” you straightened his collar and smoothed out the wrinkles you created on his clothes. To say he felt bewildered and betrayed was an understatement.

“And if that wasn’t enough of an answer for you,” you changed your tone to a soft, honest one, “Wherever you go, I shall go too. I decided that a long time ago, Zandik.” There was no need for either of you to say the three words that many others longed for. You knew that the relationship you now had with him was far stronger than a few mere words could describe.

Zandik quickly regained his composure. He would be sure to pay you back for your little stunt later. “Well then, there is much to be done. We have not a moment to waste,” he grinned, halfway out onto the balcony. “Take my hand, and we will be off,” he extended his arm, his gloved hand awaiting your own.

Taking his hand meant abandoning this current life. It meant embracing a new life that was far from morally right, one that should surely lead you to be despised by many. It meant becoming a part of the Fatui for Archon’s sake, an organization that was far from reputable. Zandik and [Name] would become lost to the world, the names only being remembered by the two of you in loving, soft-spoken whispers. Others would only know Dottore and his loyal assistant. If you took his hand, there was no going back…

And yet with no hesitation, you placed your hand in his.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #dottore fluff #genshin impact il dottore #il dottore #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui x reader #dottore angst #zandik x reader #genshin impact dottore #genshin impact zandik

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hairmetal666 · 8 months

Text

Read Part One here

cw: implied child abuse

Eddie's coming over for coffee. Not Eddie with Nancy and Robin or Eddie with the kids. Just Eddie.

They haven't been alone in 9 years and now Eddie is coming over for coffee.

They're friends, of course. After Vecna they didn't have much of a choice, but they've never talked about it--that they used to be something.

After Steve kissed Eddie goodbye for what turned out to be the last time, they didn't see each other again for months and months, except for a devastatingly fleeting moment in the Family Video parking lot. And the next time after that, Eddie's pinning him to the wall of a rickety boathouse, a broken bottle to his throat.

What's going through his mind, his body, at that moment is relief. For days, weeks, months, he ached for Eddie's touch again, and even though he was in danger, he relished in the push of their bodies together. Thought, if this is how he dies, he won't mind going.

But they don't talk about it, about them, because Eddie is on the run and Max is going to die, and they have to save the world, so there's no time. In the aftermath, it's the least of their worries, and now it's been almost a decade and Eddie is coming over for coffee.

The thing is, it's not like Steve has been pining away for a love long lost in the intervening years, and neither has Eddie. They've both had longterm, serious relationships; Steve almost got married. But for Steve...Eddie is the one that's lingered, the one that knocks around his ribcage on late sleepless nights, the one that makes him dream of what might have been. Because Steve truly loved his other partners, but Eddie--nobody will ever compare.

Someone is knocking a rhythm at his front door, and he can't stifle his smile even as his heart runs riot in his chest.

"Hey, man," he says, remarkably nonchalant as he takes Eddie in. Still beautiful, still brimming with energy; his smile wide and dimpled, bouncing on his toes.

"Harrington!" Eddie grabs him into a quick side hug, slapping his back. "Since when do you wear glasses?"

Steve chuckles, touching the horn-rimmed frames. "Oh, god, Robin forced me to get them back in '87? Too many concussions." He touches his forehead. "I usually just wear contacts."

"It's a good look," Eddie says. He's very much not looking at Steve, eyes roaming around the Chicago apartment he's been to many times before.

He watches as Eddie spots the display of his own books, index finger slowly slipping across the spines in a way that makes Steve remember when those same fingers would slide down his spine. He stifles a shiver, turns towards the kitchen.

"So, how's New York? How's the book coming?"

"Livin' the dream." It's not flippant, not like how most people mean it. Eddie leaks genuineness, always has. "The book though...it's a little rough."

Steve sets the coffee maker going, brings fresh pastries and a couple plates over to the table. "I can imagine. It doesn't--it doesn't have to be the same, you know?"

"Yeah, if only I hadn't written three other books leading up to the evil mind wizard," Eddie chuckles. He grabs a croissant and tears it in half. "It'll be alright, Harrington. I'll figure it out. I lived through it the first time, after all."

Steve doesn't remind him that he almost didn't, that they almost didn't. Instead, he pours coffee, listens as Eddie talks about how to fictionalize the worst month of their collective lives.

He splashes milk into Eddie's coffee, taps in three scoops of sugar. He carries it to where Eddie waits, still talking about the logistics of Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One in his novel, but his words abruptly stop as his hands wrap around the porcelain.

"Steve?"

It's only then that Steve realizes what he's done--made Eddie's coffee like he took it back then, made it without thinking, totally on muscle memory, when the best of his mornings were spent in Eddie's arms.

His cheeks glow crimson and he grips at the back of his neck. "S-sorry." He says. "It--is this still how you take it?"

"Yeah." Eddie's eyes fall from Steve's face, his own cheeks pink. "It's--yeah. Still the same."

"I'm sorry--"

"--Steve, I--"

They don't laugh. They both stop speaking and look at each other, faces still red. Steve thinks there's nothing for it but to get it all out now.

"I'm sorry, Eddie." He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I never came back. I'm sorry I didn't explain why. I'm just--really, really sorry."

Eddie's eyes are hooked on the table top, fingers twisting and twisting his coffee mug. "Can I--why? I waited and you--why?"

Steve swallows, but it gets stuck in his throat, and now he's the one who can't look up from his hands.

"My parents got home early," he manages. "My dad, he was waiting for me. I guess one of the neighbors thought it best to tell them who I'd been spending my time with."

Silence falls over the table, and he chances a look up at the man across from him, the one whose knuckles bite into his lips, whose eyes shine with unshed tears.

"You should've called me. You should've--you could've stayed with us. We would've kept you safe."

"Eddie, I couldn't. I physically couldn't," the admission costs him so much.

"Steve," Eddie chokes on his name, voice nothing but anguish. "Did anyone--You could've--you were all alone."

He shakes his head. "Robin knew. She snuck through my window to take care of me, but my parents--I couldn't--" This time the words really won't come. "We made a plan. We started that job at Family Video, and we saved up our money."

Now, Eddie's face is creased with grief. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

Steve shakes his head, smiles despite the wreckage around his heart. "You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. I left you with no explanation. I broke your heart. And--and--" He thinks, what does it hurt to say it at this point. "I love you. I love you so much. I convinced myself you were better off without me, that we could have a clean break and you could get over me."

Eddie's hands cover his face, muffle the sob that slips out. "Get over you?" He whispers. "There's never been one like you, sweetheart."

He slides around the table to kneel at Eddie's side. "Hey." Deep brown eyes stare back at him, Eddie's face wet with tears. "It's always you, Ed. Always. I didn't want to say anything, if you had moved on, but--"

There's not really any transition from them talking to them kissing; Steve slips into it like he did all those years ago, when he first asked for Eddie's kiss. Their mouths slot together, their bodies fit like they always used to, perfect puzzle pieces. Steve's knees give out at the first brush of Eddie's tongue, and they collapse into a heap on the kitchen floor. Even then, they don't part.

Eventually, Steve does break the embrace, face flushed and hair a disaster, glasses hanging off one ear. "Okay, trying to be responsible here. Should we take a pause, go on a date first? Slow down?"

"Nine years isn't slow enough?" Eddie's pupils are blown, hair frizzed around his head.

"When you put it that way," Steve can't help but laugh. "I just want to do right by you, Eddie. Make up for--everything."

Eddie grins down at him, that sunshine beam smile where his dimples pop. "Tell you what, how bout you take me to bed now, and I'll let you take me on a date tomorrow?"

"Oh, you'll let me?" Steve rakes a hand through Eddie's mane of hair. "I don't think you'll have any choice."

"You sure about that, Stevie?" Their lips are so close, the brush with every word.

"Uh-huh," Steve's having trouble keeping his eyes focused, overwhelmed by the sheer force of Eddie Munson. "Never letting you go again, Ed."

Surprise! Part 2! I genuinely had no intention on doing a follow-up, but so many of you asked so nicely that it gave me this idea. Sorry if I miss anyone in the tag list and thank you for reading! @everywherenothere @tiny-enthusiast @emma-elsa-0000 @fuzzyduxk @moonythepluviophile @anaibis @rhapsodyinalto @bunk12bear @tillystealeaves @velocitytimes2 @s-trawberryv-eins @marklee-blackmore @ignoremyworld @its-a-me-a-morgan @goodolefashionedloverboi @starman-jpg @djohawke @adaydreamaway08

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #getting back together #mutual pining #fluff #ficlet #part 2 #time jump #a tiny bit of angst #here's the happy ending #implied child abuse #part one was august i guess part two is the one #we were something don't you think so #and if my wishes came true it would've been you #jk eddie is the one #they're in love your honor #steve's parents are pieces of shit

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theminecraftbee · 7 months

Text

There are several things Martyn realizes, all at once, when he opens his eyes:

He is dreaming.

It's one of those in-between dreams, the ones that aren't quite dreams.

He is sitting at a green felted table. It is sitting on a stage. The lighting is dim, and no one is watching, but out of the corner of his eye he can see the stagehands dressed in black, waiting.

He is not the only one sitting at the table. There is a Watcher, draped in purple. There is a Listener, draped in yellow. There is someone he recognizes in a red sweater. There is someone he thinks he should recognize, but can't quite, shuffling a deck of cards.

"Right. What's all this, then," he mutters.

We are playing blackjack, the Listener says.

We are deciding the rules, the Watcher says.

"It's not like we have anything better to do. Honestly, I'm glad you're here. Do you know how boring these guys are?" Grian says, and Martyn decides to quietly file Grian away as a dream-Grian, as opposed to real-life-Grian, so he doesn't go insane and/or stab him when he wakes up. He waits for the almost-familiar dealer to say something. He does not. After another few moments of awkward nonsense dream-silence, Martyn sighs and leans forward on the table.

"Sure, this might as well be happening," Martyn says. "Deal me in. How's the betting work, again?"

"You put your bet on the table. If you beat the dealer, you get to add it to the game," Grian explains. "If you don't beat the dealer, it takes it."

"Yeah, but like, that's abstract, isn't it? What does that mean, exactly, me losing what I bet if I don't beat the dealer," Martyn says.

Grian shrugs. "Don't ask me. To be honest, I'm hardly the storyteller you are."

"Me? Why are you acting like I have any control over these things when you're--"

Are you ready to play?

Martyn shuts up, looks at the Listener, and sighs. "Yeah, sure, I'm ready to play. Why not."

The dealer looks to its left. Grian sighs. "Why are you making me bet first. Again. We should rotate where we're sitting--fine, fine, I know it's an advantage because I'm the worst at this. Uh. Hm. No trading or giving away lives again. Not even as time or something. It makes the dynamics all weird, and I think we could use a nice straightforward death game next time."

(Martyn wants to roll his eyes. Nice and straightforward. Sure.)

The Watcher goes next. I would like there to be deep and wonderful bonds between the players. I would like those bonds to seem unbreakable.

"Coming from you, that's ominous," Martyn says.

Can I not just miss the alliances of the early days? the Watcher says.

"Never left the desert," Grian says, rolls his eyes, and looks at Martyn in commiseration. Martyn just stares back. So sue him, he's a bit more worried about this whole concept than an eye roll and a pithy phrase. Things Watchers want are rarely good.

When the bonds are enforced, they're less interesting, complains the Listener.

Martyn looks over sharply. Hey, wait, he thought--

I didn't say they had to be enforced by rule. I said they had to be deep. Encouraged, as opposed to discouraged.

Just saying. You'll never recapture Third Life.

Martyn swallows. His throat is dry. Weren't the Listeners supposed to be the good guys, here?

Besides, what I want is for each death to be meaningful again. They've felt too meaningless, lately, the Listener continues.

Martyn thinks the dealer raises an eyebrow, but it strikes him he's not exactly sure. Grian snorts. "Meaningful deaths. That's rich for you to say. I mean, I guess they're meaningful sometimes? I don't know, Martyn's the one who understands dramatic sacrifices, I just like killing things."

"Why do you keep on looking at me when you say those things," Martyn says.

"Look, you wouldn't be here if you weren't helping write," Grian says.

"What?" Martyn says.

We're here to play our cards for the story, the Watcher says. Aren't you also one of the authors?

"Me? What? No, I'm--what are you talking about," Martyn says.

Oh, well. I also hope your meaningful deaths make it in, the Watcher says the Listener.

Thanks, even if I disagree on the bonds, the Listener says.

"They hardly ever talk about real, concrete rules they want," complains Grian. "It's easier to understand the consequence if they bring up actual rules. Like boogeyman or no boogeyman."

"We're all just betting on cards!" Martyn says, throwing his hands up. "You're giving me a headache!"

It's your bet.

"Fine!" Martyn says. "Fine! You know what? Screw all of you. I hope this is the last one. I hope we never have to go back to that stupid death game. I hope it's miserable to watch or to listen to or to play and everyone just gives up. How's that for a bet?"

You're no fun.

Is that what you really want?

"Suit yourself," Grian says. "Honestly, if I still had that to bet, I guess I probably would."

"What do you mean, if you still had that to bet?"

"Well, I mean, that's not how blackjack works, is it? I don't just get back my in when I play it."

The dealer nods, and then silently, with a long bony hand, deals the cards.

Grian is dealt the four of diamonds. The Watcher is dealt the nine of spades. The Listener is dealt the five of clubs. Martyn is dealt a jack of spades. The dealer deals itself a seven of hearts. The dealer deals Grian a six of clubs--

"Hey, isn't that supposed to be face-down?" Martyn asks.

"Not here," Grian explains. "They're all face up so we can't touch the cards. So we don't have to. So we can't cheat."

"Who said anything about cheating?" Martyn says.

"Please," Grian says.

The dealer makes a hand motion. Martyn, grumpily, falls silent. He supposes they're playing by casino rules, then. He hasn't been in a casino since--he wouldn't know. Hard to remember anything that isn't this, isn't it? Isn't killing and dying and things out of his control and things very much in his control and, apparently, bizarre dream sequences designed to make him want to strangle Grian.

Anyway. Grian is dealt a six of clubs, giving him ten. The Watcher is given an eight of spades, giving it seventeen. The Listener is dealt a king of hearts, giving it fifteen. Martyn is given a six of clubs, giving him sixteen. The dealer deals its own second card face-down. Martyn stops to try to speak, and then shuts his mouth. Right. Dealer's advantage.

He stares at the numbers.

Grian sighs. "Well, I've got to double down, don't I? Fine. I want the whole 'red lives can kill' thing to be enforced somehow. I don't care how. There's my double down."

The dealer nods.

"Why would you want that," Martyn says blankly.

If we all win, that will be interesting with the bonds, the Watcher says mildly.

Grian shrugs. "I mean, we've enforced red names not befriending green names, but not the murder thing before. Figure we should switch up the game, right?"

"Why?" Martyn says again.

Well, it wouldn't do for it to be boring.

"No, not that. Just... isn't it easier to handle when the rules are laid out properly?"

Martyn throws his hands up, but stops arguing. The dealer gives Grian a face-down card. The dealer moves to the next party at the table.

The Watcher looks over at the dealer and makes a cutting-off motion. I stand.

The dealer moves on. Hit me, the Listener says, and is dealt the queen of diamonds. The Listener gestures to Martyn. It seems I bust. Pity. I suppose there will be no guarantee of meaning, then. Not what I'd prefer.

The dealer looks at Martyn. Martyn looks at the other hands. Martyn pauses.

"Wait, this is like, casino blackjack, yeah? I'm only playing against you, not the whole table?"

"Why would you be playing against us?" Grian says. "Writing's a collaborative process."

Martyn looks entreatingly at the Listener, but the Listener is a little too caught up in the bad hand it has been dealt. Martyn looks entreatingly at the Watcher, but the Watcher just looks somehow confused.

"I was under the impression that, I don't know, you all were adversarial."

Why? All we want is the same thing as you: the story to be told a certain way.

Martyn's not sure if he's furious or just numb.

"Fine. Got a sixteen, don't I? Hit me."

Two of spades.

He's furious. He wants to win against the dealer. He wants to win against everyone. He wants his idea to make it through. He has an eighteen, though. There are only two numbers in the deck that will not bust him, and he's no fool. Hitting on sixteen is a risk enough; if he wants his stupid bet of everything finally ending to make it through, he's got to hold here.

"I hold," he says through gritted teeth.

The dealer silently deals itself another card. A three of hearts. Distantly, Martyn's ears rush. He could have taken that. He could have taken the hit. He could have won. He could have had blackjack, and he doesn't know what the extra payout for blackjack even means in a game like this one, but he could have had it, and he held back, he didn't take the risk, he didn't--

The dealer flips up its cards. Seven, eight, three. Eighteen.

Martyn's heart pounds. A stand-off.

Grian flips up his own card and groans. It's a five of diamonds. "There goes that bet," he mutters.

The dealer makes a sweeping motion around the table. The Watcher smiles, a terrible, terrible thing. Martyn, all at once, realizes that he can't ask again. He can't say 'this is guaranteed to be the last one' again. He backs out of his chair. To the sides, he sees the stagehands change the lighting. A spotlight, on him and the dealer--

"That isn't fair," he says. "It's a tie. I should get my bet back, right? It's a tie!"

THAT IS WHERE WE DIFFER FROM THE HOUSES IN VEGAS, the dealer says, and Martyn's heart stops.

(The voice is familiar. Familiar, but he cannot place it.)

YOU SEE, IN THIS GAME, THERE IS ALWAYS ONE THING THAT HAS AN ADVANTAGE. ONE THING THE STORY IS ALWAYS PLAYING AGAINST. ONE THING, THAT INEVITABLY, AFTER LONG ENOUGH PLAYING, WILL WIN.

There, the dealer looks Martyn in the eyes, and Martyn, all at once, knows exactly what the dealer must be.

AND THAT IS ME.

Martyn stares Death in the eyes.

Then, in a cold sweat, Martyn wakes up.

He does not sleep again for a long time.

#trafficblr #martyn inthelittlewood #grian #the watchers #the listeners #a bee fic #this is me getting ALL OF MY MOST PRETENTIOUS URGES OUT before i go write more giftfic #literally all my most favoritest pretentious tropes. death personified. weird audience/writer avatar watchers and listeners. cards.#the series abstracted as a stage show. martyn being tired and confused.#really really ominous portents of the next game that hasn't actually happened yet #this is what self-indulgence looks like. if you're me.#there could not be. a more me fic.#anyway. ANYWAY. martyn doesn't understand why he's here. but why WOULDN'T he be here?#out of everyone in the series he's one of the ones who shapes the narrative the most after all

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mcflymemes · 4 months

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"I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT YOU" PROMPTS * assorted dialogue for potentially romantic thoughts, adjust as necessary

you've been on my mind for quite some time.

do you think about me that way?

i was just thinking about you, and here you are!

i've been meaning to tell you how often you've been on my mind.

from the moment we met, i haven't been able to stop thinking about you.

you've consumed my thoughts.

i'm not actually supposed to think about you.

i can't get you out of my head.

you've been in my dreams lately.

speak of the devil! i was just thinking about you!

everywhere i go, everything i do... it always reminds me of you.

i don't know how to stop thinking about you.

do you ever think about that moment we shared?

have you ever thought about me like that?

i think about you a lot, actually. more than i'd like to admit.

i've thought long and hard about what i'd say to you once i saw you again.

yes, i've had dreams about you. so what?

you make it very hard to think about anything else.

when i look at you, my mind goes blank.

i tend to dwell on the softer moments we had back then.

those were good times we shared. i think about them a lot.

think about the last time we crossed paths.

you've constantly been on my mind.

i saw you in my dreams last night.

i would hope you'd think of me the same way i think of you.

nothing could have prepared me for how often i think of you.

this is just a childish infatuation, nothing more. i have to stop thinking about it.

i haven't stopped thinking about the last thing you said to me.

i can't focus around you.

maybe i should be focusing my efforts elsewhere, but i can't. not with you around.

you've taken over every thought in my mind.

maybe they're thinking about you, too.

no matter how hard i try, i can't seem to stop thinking about you.

surely you don't think of me the same way.

what you said to me... it's mattered more to me than you know.

day and night, i'm constantly thinking about you.

your smile is glued to my mind. i can't stop thinking about it.

i replay the day we met in my head all the time.

you're irritatingly easy to dream about.

i just keep hearing your words repeating in my head all day.

so i've been thinking about what you said.

a little bird told me you've been dreaming about me.

does anyone else know you've been thinking about me?

i can't tell if this is obsession or love that i'm feeling.

from the moment you looked at me, i've been consumed.

when was the last time someone took over your thoughts to this level?

just the person i wanted to see! i've been thinking about you!

it's actually quite annoying how often i think about you.

you make it very hard to focus on what i'm supposed to be doing.

you're distracting me. please leave.

have you thought about me at all?

have you considered what i said the last time we spoke?

#mcflymemes #mine #romantic prompts #rp meme #rp prompt #rp memes #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask memes #ask meme #roleplay meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme

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27thswan · 4 months

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❝ 𝐤𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐮 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥. ❞ hsr x reader

synopsis. wake up to see him. just him. (+ scenarios bc i got distracted)

warnings. no real warnings, idrk too much about luka, i just used his wiki for my reference :x

author's notes. i wanna write dilf luka because in his wiki page it says he inspires people especially kids to dream big. i think that's so cute aa

pairings. dan heng, blade, jing yuan, luocha, welt yang, luka, caelus, gepard landau, arlan, sampo x gn!reader (seperately)

☆ dan heng

oh so like, he sometimes just doesn't sleep.

just no sleep at all, and could wake up just fine, but that was before you came along

sometimes just stays up looking at your cute sleeping expression.

and if you ever smile while sleeping, ohh you bet he's gonna be giggling and blushing

always wakes up before you if he ends up sleeping (he does end up sleeping, just as long as you sleep on his chest)

loves, and i mean LOVES to be the big spoon, but doesn't mind being in your embrace instead

but when he does wake up before you, just waits for like 20, maybe 30 minutes more just to see your pretty eyes open to his face

all he could do was watch your chest heave, your eyes still closed, still, your head was on his chest, dozing off. and all his thoughts could say was how lucky he was, to be so close to someone, as close as this, so close, they trust him while they're vulnerable, but being able to be vulnerable around someone is a way to open up your heart, and he's so glad he did for you.

☆ blade

always just ends up finding you stranded on the couch of your shared room, wearing one of his clothes, or atleast a blanket over you

but, he doesn't mind carrying you to your guys' bedroom, might slip a bit cuz he admires you while going there, just gets a tinsy bit distracted

just so lowkey in love with your warm embrace, hands wrapped around his middle, while he just watches you, watches you doze, and all he can do is fall in love a little more

when its time for him to go in the morning, his heart breaks a little, cuz ik he wants to stay with you for a bit longer, just to feel your head next to his neck

kinda scared you'll hear his loud heartbeat, and it goes slightly faster each minute, just knowing his beloved is asleep on him

just seeing your resting face, while your legs entangle with each other. just watching you cuddle closer to him. and he just wants to let this last forever, but he knows he has to go sooner or later. just brushing the hair off your face, just cupping your face so he can kiss both your cheeks, then your nose, all the way back to the clichè peck on the lips.

☆ jing yuan

sometimes, he isn't early when he comes back home from work, sometimes he isn't even there, but when he is, he feels insanely bad, for always leaving you just waiting for him

but on the days he can come home to see your beautiful face, it's always in the nights, not always but, when he's that busy, it's usually him coming back home in night time.

yes. yes. big thumbs up. he missed you so much. especially misses your arms wrapped around him, and his head on yours, just the both of you

RAAA THIS MAN CANNOT COOK FOR HIS LIFE. so please, cook for him instead, he will buy you one of those 'kiss the chef' aprons.

i just know you, yanqing, and him, are so family like when together, but yanqing isn't there and stuff, or when he's in his own room sleeping after you've tucked him into bed, jing yuan likes to take you into his arms, without your little thirdwheel

but even if yanqing often thirdwheeled on you guys, it becomes more like a family spending time together, and it isn't like his presence is disliked, but he does and will say ew when you and jing yuan kiss

he never minded carrying you up to your shared master bedroom in his mansion, he never minded cuddling with you either. having himself in your embrace for even just a night is more than a blessing to him, and he can't help but turn a little red, "one day, i'll marry you, just have to find the perfect ring." holding you a bit closer than before. and maybe closer than he should be. but, he's sure you won't mind.

☆ luocha

OOO he's such a romantic sweetheart with it.. smooth as hell. like i know bro tries his best to come home to you every night. and makes sure when he does come home from those long ahh expeditions, he comes home with souvenirs, and arms wide open ready to be welcomed by your usual hug and ready to embrace your warmth.

but you weren't.. there? oh! there you are! asleep on the couch, and asleep on usually what would be him, but now replaced by a pillow, and covered by a fluffy blanket he brought home from the xianzhou luofu.

yes yes yes. please. hug this man like he's gonna go away again tomorrow, his love language is physical touch, and maybe quality time. loves it when you're the one tying the tie on his suit before he goes out on those long expeditions again.

he probably breaks down sometimes mid-hug cuz thats just how much he missed you, and missed that warmth that always comforted him.

his eyes open up, open up to see the pretty face that always made him feel at home, the pretty face that always made sure he was okay after adventures, expeditions, his job, the pretty face that always asked if he needed anything, if he needed help, if he ever wanted you to tag along those deathly expeditions. the pretty face that he always ended up kissing at the end of the day, the pretty face he's learned to love so dearly.

☆ welt

wow so, i think personally he'd be on the express almost 24/7 with you, and if not on the express, it's out on a trailblazing mission together with him, and the little devil trio (march 7th, dan heng, and trailblazer), just a family going out doing family things!

will always be by your side 24/7, not as busy as the others, and would take you out shopping too!

oh but he's just like dan heng, can go many nights without rest, its what he's been accustomed to for so long, for so long on those trailblazing mission that required him to be awake all night and day.

whenever you guys kiss, he sometimes smiles while you do. like you can feel it too, and it's just something he does.

probably holds both of your hands when you both smooch, cuz he just is a sweetheart like that.

just like luocha, a romantic sweetheart, if he isn't holding your hands, his hands are around your waist, probably 1 arm around your waist, and 1 cupping your cheek

while finding out what planet is next to set you and your trailblazing adventures on with him and the little devil trio, he likes to let you rest, head on his lap, while his jacket covers you from the chilly atmosphere, himeko watching from afar, just laughing at how corny you both are. but she's glad she was the one to help you both together.

☆ luka

now i know i don't know much about him at the moment, but i like a challenge!!

he probably likes it way better if you cuddle him, probably loves physical touch a lot too.

but when it isn't you cuddling him, he'll definitely would be so willing to just take you in his arms, and playing with your hair till you fall asleep, probably falls asleep too

good, great, another great man with great hand placement, if that's a thing, cuz he knows where to put his arms, where to put his hand, where you're comfortable with him touching, and he remembers to just sooooothe you with words

i just know this man is good with words, especially when it comes to praise

just praise and praise and praise, no end, because that's how much he really loves you

he may not always be home, but he wants to take you out as much as he can, and as long as that's what you want too!

probably bumped into you so hard the first time you both met you fell into his arms

having someone as amazing as you in his arms, he felt like it wasn't even real. sometimes all he could think about was what if he never bumped into you? oh but.. who cares anymore, you both are together now. he can't help but say so unconsciously out loud, 'i can't believe, how just a few months ago, i struggled to find the words to talk to you, and now you're in my arms, willingly this time.' slowly he fell asleep too, but he didn't know you were still half awake, but more than ready to sleep after what he just said <3

☆ caelus

emotionally intelligent sweetheart, tries his best to make you as comfortable as possible, even in bed, even just while you both are cuddling and such

good hand placement, but is a bit shy when he does have his arms around your middle

prefers that you kind of face him, the feeling that you're in his arms, and your breath near his neck, makes him feel safe, and happy, that you're still there, in his arms.

whenever he was with you, when you were in his arms, it felt like his body could really just breathe

kinda just likes to nuzzle his head next to that little space near your neck

his hair is real fluffy, believe me that little raccoon doesn't take care of his hair as often, its just genetics

he always liked it like this, ever since he fell for you, he kind of dreamed about this, and now it's really a dream come true, just him in your arms, where no hell can disturb what heaven he's in right now. just you and him, no one else, and that's why he feels so comforted with you. it feels like.. he finally has a home.

☆ gepard

another shy, yet romantic sweetheart, but he'd totally be new to all things romantic, so, guide him yk?

would also prefer if he cuddled you more than you cuddling him, probably cups your cheek while he does too, atleast while you sleep

kind of talks to you while you sleep, he knows that you could and could also not be sleeping, but in the end he never really cared, sometimes he just wanted to tell you things that he couldn't while you were awake

like how much he wishes to say i love you, but doesn't know how to express it, and at night he recalls words that he thinks could describe his love for you

sometimes it's just so indescribable, he just stops in the middle of saying stuff to look at you

really really likes it when you hold him close, or when he can hold you closer

'from just passing by each other in the street, to being in my bed. hah.' he whispered to himself, smiling at your sleeping face, cupping your cheek to kiss your temple. just admiring all your features, everything about you was so perfect, he still wonders how someone like him got to get with someone as amazing as you. the longer he looked, the more his eyes started to slowly close. until finally, he's asleep, while your legs intertwine, he holds your hand too, just so happy to be with you. what a fever dream.

☆ arlan

wow, how did he get with you? is his main question, from just being a friend of a friend, to becoming this close, so close that your hands touch, your legs intertwine, that his lips could be on yours? just.. wow.

kind of touch-starved, i know it. got to know him through asta, no other answer. asta would be so supportive of you both too, probably the one who help set the both of you up!!

anyway, he's just so.. starstruck? you really went on dates with him, and held his hand, and kissed his cheek.. hahajsdsamkd

just goes absolutely haywire when he realizes that in the morning that you're right next to him, like oh okay.. WAIT???!?!?!?!

i just know he wakes up early, like almost too early, and just stares at you for an hour, maybe falls asleep again in that hour, but he does just look at how beautiful you look

lowkey overthinks, but he's just happy to be right there, next to you, just blushes at the thought, and blushes when he feels you on his chest

how did it go from not knowing your name, and you being on his chest. always and everyday thanks his friend, asta, for introducing you to him. doesn't know what would've happened to him by now if she didn't.. would he still be wondering what your name was? would he still be alone in bed, with nothing but thoughts he has to respond to otherwise he'd- well.. it's best to just not think about that, and instead enjoy your presence, he has to leave in a bit for work, he just is so much more thankful than he ever was than before.

☆ sampo

big tease, like you can't look me in the eyes and tell me he isn't a tease about it

he'd be so big on physical touch though, like yeah he knows his way with words but c'mon.. he looks like he'd carry you while hugging you, like when people carry the other person when they hug into the air? yeah he'd do that

he has a habit of carrying you around your house, especially at night then plops you down on the bed just to like deep dive hug you, idk how to describe it but he dives into the bed and transitions that into cuddling, somehow

just caresses your hair alot, like while you rest your head on his chest or something, his hand is fidgeting with your hair

even though like uh, he may not show that you know, or atleast in a serious way, he really loves the way you look, the way you act, when he falls for someone, he FALLS, like believe me (pls)

sure he may be a little teasing shit with nicknames and stuff, and constantly making you flustered

like trust me as soon as he saw you bro fell, and fell harder, that's all i'm gonna say

oh and bro can cook, like cook amazingly good, for some reason, could be a bit ooc, for this, but i like to think he can cook really well, and he'd cook millions of kinds of food, just to impress you

just as he looks to his side, to see his little love dove asleep, turning off the tv, so that you could sleep in silence. he tried his best to always word out how much he loved you, but sometimes you just think he was just joking around. he always hopes deep down inside that, you knew he wasn't joking, that he meant every word, even the words that one day he'd put a ring on your finger, and he'd the only man to do so, because you'd be with him forever, he just.. can't help but fall asleep too, and with that last thought, he brushes the stray strands of hair off your face, to kiss both of your cheeks, and finally rest too.

malewife sampo real no joke no cap no shot no way

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addicsvt · 5 days

Text

11:11 pm

pairing - established relationship | husband mingyu x reader genre - fluff/angst? word count - 800 warnings - not proof-read, negative thoughts, tiny bit of unspecified mental issues. synopsis - kim mingyu, the man who has never failed to steal your heart. a/n - happy super late birthday to my man <3 can be read as a pt.2 to sincerely yours!

"gyu" you mutter, the nickname spills out of your mouth effortlessly. You don't really know how you ended up like this, how your head ended up on his lap, how you ever got the chance to meet someone as amazing as him, and how you think that you don't deserve him at all. Your getting side-tracked.

"hm?" he questions as you let out another sigh of contentment, you really could stay like this forever. Mingyu is too perfect, he's every girls dream. A pretty man who knows how to cook? Sign the whole female population up. It's times like these where you wonder why he chose you, out of 8 billion people, why you?

"your over-thinking again," he whispers softly, continuing to play with your hair. You always said that you were a closed book, but mingyu somehow managed to read every single page. He knew how you were feeling, he knew when your thoughts would get so loud, he knew when your thoughts would become self de-appreciating. He knew everything.

"i was wondering about something," you mumble. Mingyu knew how to keep you grounded whenever your mind was floating. He wasn't necessarily forcing you to stop over-thinking but when you started thinking negatively about yourself he would ground you, support you, be there for you.

"and what were you wondering about love?" he asks looking down at you with the biggest puppy eyes ever. You think that you might just fall in love with your husband again. He had child-like innocence and you just wanted to pinch his cheeks and pepper his whole face with kisses.

"i was wondering, why do you love me?" you question softly, this question had been running through your head all month day. Out of so many people, why you? He could've went for a prettier female idol, one that could match his status, why you?

"Your asking me that 2 years into our marriage?" He says sarcastically letting out a soft chuckle. To be honest, mingyu loves you for everything. He loves your pretty smile, your pretty eyes, your hair that he has the privilege to play with, your soft lips, everything. He loves your flaws (he doesn't really think they're flaws) too, he loves how you'll keep talking, he loves how you'll take an hour to decide between sushi or pizza, he loves how awkward you are in social settings.

"shut up! can't a girl ask a question" you protest slightly, but you don't really mean it. If someone asked you why you loved mingyu you would come up with a whole 2000 word essay. Mingyu would constantly re-assure you, tell you how pretty you were every single day, flooding your notifications with "ily, come back into my arms asap" messages every single hour.

"If you want the answer, I love everything about you." he began, he knew how cheesy he sounded but he didn't care. Nothing mattered when it came to you.

"that's cheesy." you comment laughing softly, you suddenly felt a finger resting on your lips. If mingyu tried to tell you what he loved about you he would probably run out of breath, you had so many amazing qualities that he would probably need a life-time to list it out.

"it's true though, i love everything about you. your smile, your sweet laugh, every single one of your moles, your dimples, your bread cheeks." He rambled removing his finger from your lips. You were too perfect for him, most days he would be left thinking how someone like you chose him. You were so charming and attractive how did no one else take you before him?? The world was missing out on you.

"shut up... your making me fall in love with you again." you grumble softly, you weren't annoyed, not at all. Mingyu smiled softly, that was his wife right there.

"I can make you fall in love again, wanna see how?" he snickered softly, you knew he was going to do something definitely. You always fed into his antics though, watching him smile like an adorable puppy after getting treats always made your heart melt. That was the main reason why you treated bobpul like he was your own child.

"and how will you do that?" you questioned, adding fuel to the fire. Mingyu didn't respond but smiled softly, trapping your lips in a kiss.

Mingyu has kissed you many times, but this time feels different. Your hair is messy, his hair is messy. Your wearing nothing but his oversized hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, bare-faced. But when he sweeps you into a kiss it makes your heart beat faster than it should've. Something about the suddenness of the kiss almost sent your heart into cardiac arrest. You were going to sue him for this.

@ADDISCVT 2024

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redbullgirly · 3 months

Note

Hellooo 👋, can you write enemies to lovers with fernando alonso maybe with some angst? 🤭

It's totally alright if you don't want to! Thankssss :))

EL DESTINO [FA14 oneshot]

Fernando Alonso x reader

Masterlist

Summary: Y/N works for Alpine, and even though Fernando Alonso isn't part of the team anymore, they can't forget their distaste for each other. The driver seems to think she's just an irresponsible party girl and Y/N doesn't like him because he's, well... annoying and mean and doesn't care about anybody but himself. Though could they be both wrong in their prejudices?

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Not much, maybe they're kind of mean to each other and stupid at the start, but that's the point of enemies to lovers, right? XD

Author's Note: Hello Anon and thank you for the request! I didn't expect it to turn out so long, but hey XD. I hope you and everybody else will like it. Also I tried for a little bit of angst, but I'm not sure if I'm good at it... you can let me know :).

If anyone could read your thoughts at the moment, you’d probably end up locked behind bars and with the key from your cell thrown far away. Whoever's great idea was to allow the group of inexperienced interns to touch the important data and statistics deserved to rot seven feet underground. Chopped into small pieces. And doused in poison that eats their lifeless body until there's nothing left.

Okay, that's maybe a bit too violent, but still not far from the truth.

You rubbed your tired eyes, not caring about smudging the mascara anymore. There was basically no one left in the building, just a few mechanics desperately needing the cars to be in perfect condition tomorrow – or should we say today? And then there was you, who stupidly agreed to fix the disaster caused by too much excitement and not enough cautiousness. You knew the interns didn't do it on purpose, and blaming them wasn't going to help you, but still. It wasn't them who had to sit there long after their working hours ended, staring into a too bright computer screen.

When you finally managed to save all the damaged data, it was almost three in the morning, and before you made it back to the hotel, you weren't sure if it was even worth going to bed. Because of the emergency, you didn't have time to finish your usual duties. And even though it wouldn't be fair to want the analysis from you, that wasn't how the game was played in motorsport.

Legs almost giving out under you, you dragged yourself to the elevator. The poor lady sitting at the receptionist desk looked at you skeptically, but didn't say anything as you stepped in and pressed the button with the number of your floor on it. Generic music started playing, numbing your brain even more.

The metal door was about to close, but then a hand came between it. Before you blinked and processed what's happening, a man slipped into the elevator right next to you, pressing his own number.

You see, everything could have been fine. You could've just survived the thirty seconds of embarrassing silence, then mumble a polite goodbye and go to sleep in peace. But no. Fate apparently had other plans for you.

Because as the man turned to you and the bright light hit his face, you realized it wasn't just some stranger.

Suddenly, the silence shifted from the normal elevator weirdness to tension. You pressed your lips together, silently cursing the higher power that decided to mess with your life just today, when you looked like a zombie. With smudged mascara. Perfect.

For someone, maybe it would be a fulfilled dream to be in an elevator with Fernando Alonso. Two time World Champion, great driver, loved person. And a dickhead that almost ruined your whole career.

“You look like you had a wild night,” he murmured with a thick Spanish accent. You narrowed your brows, trying to control the anger bubbling inside of you. Was he trying to insult you? You wouldn't even be surprised.

“Perhaps I did, thank you very much.” Your voice lacked any signs of friendliness, clearly trying to provoke him. It was quite funny, really, how a minute ago you didn't have energy to think clearly, and now you were ready to argue with this man over anything. Almost like the magic of despising someone.

You noticed his jaw tensing and knew it wouldn't be good. But still, his words hurt: “Maybe if you focused more on doing your job instead of wild nights out, Alpine would do better.”

The sting in your chest was strong, but by some miracle the elevator finally stopped, and the robotic voice announced the twenty-sixth floor. Even life itself took pity on you, it seemed.

Without any other word, you turned away from Alonso and walked into the empty hallway, hearing a quiet scoff and then the door sliding closed again behind you, leaving you all alone in the darkness. How poetic.

Every door you passed looked exactly the same, and you just hoped you remembered your room number correctly.

You didn't even remember taking out the card and entering your temporary home for the weekend. You didn't remember taking your clothes off, removing the remaining makeup with a tissue because you were too tired for your usual skin care routine. You didn't remember responsibly setting up your alarm and then falling into the soft mattress.

All you could remember before the exhaustion took over were his words that cut deeper than he thought, and deeper than you'd like to admit.

-----

You couldn't believe it.

As you walked out of the debrief, you could basically feel everybody's frustration crawling up your spine, mixing with your own. The team, all the mechanics and engineers, pit crew members and marketing, hundreds of people worked so hard the whole week. And for what?

It was already bad when both cars didn't finish the last Grand Prix in Silverstone. But for it to happen again? That was downright embarrassing. Not only did it bring exactly zero points in the Constructors' Championship, but the drivers were angry, disappointed. You could see that in the team, the motivation level decreased quickly. And honestly, you couldn't blame them.

Last year, Alpine was the fourth-best car on the grid. Best of the rest, as they'd call it. But this season, everything was going terribly. You honestly weren't far from crying.

To lighten up the mood, some of your colleagues decided to enjoy a night out in Budapest before you'd have to fly to Belgium tomorrow, to prepare for yet another racing weekend. At first, you declined the offer, insisting you needed to catch up on some work, do analysis for the car and figure out exactly what happened to it. But then, one of the mechanics you were friendlier with saw your drooping shoulders, and pulled you into the club despite all your weak protests.

Soon enough, you let loose and after an hour, you were a few drinks in. Your head was spinning, a big smile planted on your lips and giggles coming out of your mouth uncontrollably. Not that you had low alcohol tolerance, but the last time you got properly drunk was some time ago. Perhaps you just forgot how it felt. The freedom, the sweet mist of oblivion clouding your mind.

Currently, you were sitting at the bar, sipping on a cocktail. You already enjoyed your time on the dance floor, which tired you more than expected. Thank God you went to the club right from the paddock, so instead of high heels that'd kill your feet, you had comfortable sneakers on.

As you waved at the young barman to give you another round of whatever he mixed for you before, you felt someone's eyes on your back. You didn't bother to turn around, thinking it was just another drunken man checking out half of the women in the club.

Then, someone stood behind you. “The drink's on me, hermosa,” the man said, voice smooth like honey. You froze. You knew that deep, thick Spanish accent too well. What the hell was Alonso doing here?

He clearly mistook your silence for an impressed one, or so you thought when he came to sit down next to you, his hand gently brushing your back. That was the moment you turned your head towards him, eyes wide, and his face dropped. So did yours.

You hoped for a split second you could pretend you were total strangers randomly meeting in a bar for just a little longer when he instantly frowned and his demeanor changed from charming gentleman to pain in the ass.

“Y/L/N,” he uttered it in a way that made you wonder if there was something wrong with your last name. “Guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you here.”

And here it was — the instant wave of anger and hurt he managed to bring up by just a few poking words.

“Says the right person.” You rolled your eyes, the flowing feeling the alcohol gave you before now gone. You felt like you were going to be sick. “I bet if it wasn't me you tried to hit on, you'd bring the poor woman to your hotel room tonight.”

“Careful, or you might sound jealous.”

“Oh, you wish, Alonso,” you laughed humorlessly.

The bartender chose that moment to bring you the requested cocktail you already forgot about. You gave him the cash, though you had no intention of actually drinking it. As always, Alonso left a sour taste in your mouth.

“I see you're drinking the team problems away,” he pressed harder, knowing damn well it was a sensitive topic. You gritted your teeth, reminding yourself to be the better person.

Then you looked into his dark eyes, and your self-control was gone. For some reason, you couldn't stand the look he was giving you. It was full of something that was too similar to disappointment. You hated people being disappointed in you, even if you hated that very person.

Out of nowhere, the alcohol kicked in, and you remembered why you didn't drink in clubs too often — it made you emotional. So stupidly sensitive that you couldn't stop your eyes from tearing up. You shook your head, opened your mouth, wanting to tell him something. Anything that'd make him just as much hurt as you were.

Instead, you bit your trembling lip and abruptly stood up. You almost knocked over the bar stool, though at the moment, you didn't really care.

Was it cowardly to run away from him and his harsh words? Yes, you knew that. But you did it in the elevator, and so you could do it again.

In a rush, you got through other people enjoying their night out, oblivious to the lump forming in your throat. You needed to get out, breathe in the fresh air and just forget about everything.

It was probably nearing midnight, and even though it was late July, you still shivered when you stepped outside the club. Just then you remembered you left your jacket back in the paddock. And you also realized the mechanic and his group of friends drove you here, and you had no idea where you were or how to get to your hotel room.

“Great. Just fucking perfect,” you mumbled to yourself, a few tears running down your cheeks. You wiped them away, willing yourself to calm down. Budapest couldn't be too different from other European cities, so you'd just walk to the nearest public transport station and then see what you could do from there. Yes, that was exactly what you're going to do, and it's going to be okay.

Having a plan calmed you down, at least a little. You walked in a direction you hoped would get you to the center and took your phone out. The battery was low, and you cursed yourself for not charging it during the day.

“Where are you going?” You winced and nearly dropped the phone when you heard the loud voice calling after you.

When you turned around, you already knew exactly who was standing before the club entrance.

“That's not any of your business,” you tried to sound tough, but it came out tired and weak. So instead, you lifted your head, trying to save the remaining bits of your dignity.

Alonso tilted his head, brown eyes studying you for a moment before he made a step towards you. “Don't tell me you don't have anyone to take you back to your hotel?” The undertone of his voice was strange, and if you didn't know better, you'd think it was worry seeping out.

“Oh, then I won't tell you,” you fired back, satisfied with your own answer as you turned around and left him standing there.

You made it around the block when a strong hand suddenly grasped your hand, and you screamed, prepared to fight whoever attacked you.

“¡Ay dios mío!” Alonso cursed and held his red cheek, where there was a clear hand print now.

You stared at each other in shock. You wanted to kill him for scaring you to death, but at the same time, you were relieved it was just him and not a creepy kidnapper.

“I'd say I'm sorry… but I'm not,” you managed to mumble. A weak attempt, you knew that. But it still seemed to wake him from his trance and make him scoff at you in annoyance.

However, he didn't let go of your hand.

“Let's go,” Alonso urged you back towards the direction you came from.

“I'm not going anywhere with you.”

“Y/N, if you think I would let a drunk girl wander around a city she doesn't know, alone, at night… then you clearly don't know me at all.”

It took a few seconds for his words to hit you, and all there was left for you to do was to look up at him with surprise written all over your face. That seemed to annoy him for some reason, but with alcohol still very much present in your system, you didn't have the capacity to think about it too much.

“Let's go,” he repeated, though this time you didn't protest when he started walking towards what turned out to be his car. You knew it very well, from the years you used to work together, for the same team. Silently, you wondered how the hell did he get it to Hungary, but you soon forgot about that.

Fernando unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for you. Your mom would probably tell you to be more cautious about getting into the car of a man you didn't like and were sure he didn't like you as well. But hey, it's still better than being lost in a foreign city, right?

So you sat down, and before you could reach for the seatbelt, he took it and strapped you himself, mumbling something about safety hazards with drunk people. You were so surprised by that unexpected action you didn't even have time to feel offended.

You closed your eyes, the comfortable seat making you sleepy. You heard him get in the car as well and join the night traffic. For a moment, silence reigned and for the first time in a long time, it didn't feel horrible and tense.

“Isn't it illegal to drive with alcohol?” you whispered, eyes still closed.

“I didn't drink anything in the club. Too busy with you.”

Just then, you realized you actually asked the question out loud.

“Sorry for ruining your celebration night. Probably didn't want to leave it with me,” you laughed quietly. When he approached you in the club, he thought you were a random pretty woman with whom he could share a drink and take her to his bed for a fun night.

“Whatever.” You could hear him shrug his shoulders. “Sorry for ruining your night. Though you don't have much to celebrate.”

That made you open your eyes and gaze at him. He was looking straight ahead, concentrating on the road ahead. The lights of the other cars occasionally landed on his face, and you wondered if he was always so handsome, or it were the cocktails speaking for you.

“Wow, even in an apology there's a hidden insult,” you snickered, though there was a small grin on your lips now. Yes, definitely the alcohol speaking for you, you told yourself.

This time, Fernando actually looked at you before he averted his sight back to the traffic. “I wasn't insulting you, Y/N. I was insulting the team.”

You raised your eyebrows, but didn't comment on it. It was pointless to argue over this, he had his opinion about Alpine and given the fact both your cars didn't finish two races in a row, you didn't have exactly the best arguments to convince him otherwise. After all, he was part of the team last year. And the year before.

For the rest of your ride, there wasn't much more said between the both of you. You were tired — not just because of the night out and drinking, but from the whole week, from the whole season.

Finally, he parked the car before a building you recognized. You didn't ask him how he knew which hotel your team booked, perhaps he remembered it was the same one as the year before. Honestly, you were just glad he helped you get out of the car and walked you inside.

Then, you found yourself in an elevator alone with Fernando, again. Though unlike a month ago, he gently held your hand for support this time.

You told him your room number and somehow, he got you all the way in front of the door. You thanked all the saints in the world when you dug the keys out of your purse. After three unsuccessful tries at unlocking the room, Fernando's patience apparently ran out. He took the keys out of your hand and silently opened the lock.

“Thanks,” you muttered, and let him lead you inside your own hotel room.

When the light switch turned on and illuminated all the papers lying around, he looked at you, flabbergasted.

“What's all this?”

You shrug your shoulders and look at him like he was stupid. Which he was, at least in your humble opinion. “Work. What else?”

“Yes, yes. But why is it… here?” He motions towards the desk, nightstands, and bed.

“Because I don't have time to do it all in the office.”

“You work overtime?”

Now you were starting to get irritated.

“Yes, I work overtime. Maybe if you weren't so insistent in thinking I'm a dumb party girl ever since I made one stupid mistake in your car's analysis a year ago, you'd see I'm actually trying my best.” You hated how hurt you sounded, pathetic in your own ears.

But honestly, who was he to judge you? You never actually stood up to him before, defended yourself against his mean words. You always sucked it up, let him complain about you to your boss, who almost fired you because of the driver's obvious distaste for you. And when he left the team at the end of last year, you never tried to contact him, talk to him. Fix your non-existent relationship.

Today, though, you had enough. Maybe it was the alcohol giving you courage, maybe it was his shocked face when he realized you actually did your job.

“Y/N, I-”

“Get out,” you said in a tone that didn't allow for any objections. Fernando seemed to understand, but the pained expression didn't leave his face when he slowly walked to the door. Like he didn't really want to leave, like he desperately wanted to tell you something.

You didn't care about him. He never cared about you before as well, did he?

And so, with one last, regretful look in his dark eyes, Fernando Alonso left your hotel room. When tears ran down your cheeks, you weren't sure why you were even crying.

-----

You were avoiding him after that. It wasn't the easiest thing to do, but you managed and after surviving the Belgian Grand Prix in Spa, you were excited about the summer break as never before. Almost a whole month without races, which meant you wouldn't have to meet anyone from the other teams, including Fernando.

Usually, the team worked tirelessly through the summer break — it was a great chance to have a proper look into the car's engine and come up with new ideas and improvements. God knew you needed that. Typically, you were amongst those loyal employees, basically living in the Alpine headquarters.

However, this year you really wanted a break. So you used your vacation days and stayed in your flat, finally sleeping like a normal person for once, eating home-cooked meals instead of team catering and enjoying the summer, though the weather could be better in England.

It was the start of August when you started finding flower deliveries on the threshold of your door. First, you thought it's a mistake, though what woman would refuse a beautiful bouquet of her favorite flowers. When it happened a whole week in a row, you thought about having a secret admirer or, in the worse case scenario, a stalker. Though, you still took the flowers inside every morning, cherishing them.

And then, one day, there was an envelope attached to the bouquet, and you had to curse yourself for being so, so stupid. Of course it's him, Fernando. Begging you to talk to him, to let him explain. One dinner, he said. One dinner, and then he'll let you go on about your life.

When he tried to write a poem in the middle of August, you finally gave in. You found his old phone number saved amongst many other contacts and sent him a simple “okay”.

The next morning, there was a time and address of the restaurant in the envelope.

You didn't let yourself get too excited about any of it. It's Fernando Alonso, the man who almost caused you to get fired from your dream job, the one that was so mean to you after making wrong assumptions about you and your way of life. Yes, he was trying now, but was that enough?

When the taxi dropped you off in front of the fancy restaurant, you took a deep breath. You had a simple dress on, light makeup, and a few accessories.

You walked into the empty restaurant. The waitress smiled at you when you told her the name of the reservation and led you to the only set table. You could see the deep brown eyes looking directly at you from afar.

Suddenly, nervousness settled in your stomach. If you didn't know better, you'd think this was a date — it certainly felt like one.

Without a word, he helped you sit down on a chair across from him and the waitress handed you the menu. It was without prices, but you were certain this place was lavish and expensive. Perhaps Fernando didn't want you to worry about it and let you order anything you wanted. And you tried not to be too impressed by that.

“You look very beautiful, hermosa,” he spoke after a minute of tense silence while you pretended to be interested in the menu. You didn't miss the fact he used the same nickname like that night in the club, when he thought you were someone else.

“Compliments won't make it easier for you.” Maybe you lied, because you liked him calling you beautiful.

“I know, but I couldn't help myself.”

The waitress came back with a bottle of wine that Fernando must've ordered before you arrived. You took a sip and it tasted like heaven. It almost made you forget about everything, almost.

“Please, can we talk?” You never heard his voice sound so… unsure.

“Aren't we talking right now?”

“Y/N.” The way he said your name was so soft, so delicate.

“Fernando.” You saw him flinch, and you realized it was probably the first time you called him by his first name. Suddenly, the whole situation felt more intimate.

He gulped, but there was determination written all over his face. Fernando Alonso wasn't the type of man to give up, you knew that. His amazing racing career was proof of that.

“Listen to me, please. I know that you have the right to never speak to me again after how I treated you. But I want to fix it, Y/N.”

Those brown eyes were going to be the death of you, burying themselves into your soul, your heart.

“I want to fix all of it, Y/N,” he repeated with all seriousness. “If you let me,” Fernando added.

And how could you say no to him? Deep down, you always admired him. Liked him, even. Before that fuck up with his car's analysis, you thought he might like you back. You always wanted his approval, and that was one of the reasons why his words and insults hurt so much.

Sometimes, people deserved second chances. Especially when they were looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

Slowly, you nodded. “I think I might let you, Fernando.” You smiled, liking how his name felt on your tongue. “But it's not going to be easy, I'm telling you that,” you warned him with a raised finger.

“I wouldn't dream of anything less,” he replied with a thick Spanish accent that was stronger when he felt emotions. Fernando returned your smile and clinked his glass with yours.

-----

Brazil was a good race. Both Alpine cars ended up in points and Fernando, your Fernando, got another podium. You clapped along with others during the podium ceremony, eyes just for him. A proud feeling settled in you, and as he accepted his trophy for well deserved third place, he looked down at the gathered crowd. Mostly people from Aston Martin, McLaren, and Red Bull.

And then there was you — in your Alpine t-shirt, clapping for the driver who scandalously left your team last year, without a care in the world. That was when he knew he loved you, and that he'll always will.

You knew you loved him too when, after all the celebrating around the circuit died down or moved to clubs and private parties, instead of going to his hotel room, he knocked on the door of yours. Checking on you.

“Hermosa, I hope you're not working.” He rolled his eyes as he stepped in, seeing you indeed staring into your notebook at some data he probably shouldn't see as a part of a rival team.

“But Nando, I need to finish these-”

He cut you off the best way he could — hugging you from behind, gently turning your head towards him and placing his lips on yours. You instantly melted into the kiss, giving up the fight before it could even start.

“I think you need to properly celebrate your boyfriend winning,” he smirked, biting your lip teasingly. You felt like a teenage girl when the butterflies took off in your stomach.

Fernando slowly walked you to the bed, never parting your lips, as if his life depended on kissing you. You sat on his lap, your hips grinding against his as you moaned into his mouth.

And he couldn't help himself. He wanted to take you out on a magical date and tell you there, but how could he keep it a secret when you were sitting on him, so beautiful that his heart clenched. Smart and pretty girl. His smart and pretty girl.

“Te amo,” he whispered into your sweet lips, and your breath caught.

You pulled back a little, looking at him, silently asking if you heard him correctly.

“Te amo, Y/N,” he repeated. You knew enough Spanish for your eyes to tear up. “I love you very much.”

There was a heartbeat of silence, probably the longest one in your whole life.

“I love you too. So much,” you whispered back. And then, for him: “Te amo, Fernando.”

Now it was his turn to tear up, hold your face in his hands and press your foreheads together.

Perhaps the fate and its plans for you weren't so horrible after all.

THE END

Author's Note: Wow, if you read it all to the end, thank you very much! I'll be glad for likes, comments, reblogs, follows and every other way of support. Let me know how you liked this story and if you'd maybe like another oneshot from this "universe" because I have to admit, this version of Fernando and Y/N kind of grew on me... Have a great day and see you at the next post! :)

279 notes · View notes

strawhatsoraya · 2 years

Note

Hi! you work is amazing, can i request a nsfw headcanon for Zoro, Law, Kid and Ace (i don't know what number of characters are your limit) being very sexual frustrated bc their partern doesn't want to have sex with them? They think there's something wrong with them as boyfriends but they're more calm after they overhears that S/O is just too nervous to do it due to how big are

Anon, I don't know how long it's been. I'm not gonna pretend to keep track of time anymore. I live in the Twilight Zone where everything is dated 2 weeks ago. I have taken your request and written the headcanons as little ficlets/drabbles. Thank you for the request!

If you were to tell the truth, you shouldn’t have drunk as much as you did.

If you were to tell the truth, you should be canoodling up to your boyfriend, thigh flushed against thigh, whispering lewd promises into his ear.

Instead, you were too busy avoiding the subject. Shame and embarrassment pulses through your veins, the same way the alcohol you gulped down your throat did. You’re thankful for the flush it brings to your cheeks. At least you can blame it on something other than yourself.

You felt his gaze on you all throughout dinner: hungry, starved, almost pleading.

There’s a dip at your stomach, one you can’t quite decipher–or you try not to. The truth was, your boyfriend was damn near irresistible. Wanting, or lack thereof, had never been the issue. The issue was that you–by all means–were a coward of a pirate. You never dreamed of the day you’d run away from a challenge but every time you came so close to giving in, to throwing caution to the wind, and everything be damned–if you split in half, then you’d split in half, and die in ecstasy–you always ended up running away.

You consider jumping ship–exposing yourself to the elements, or letting yourself fall into the depths of the ocean. Anything was preferable than openly admitting to your boyfriend your cowardice over what he might consider a trivial matter. Close to intoxication and close to tears, you turn to your best friend for advice.

Portgas D. Ace

He never thought he’d be lucky enough to be loved the way you love him. He never thought, not even in his wildest dreams, that he’d be allowed to love someone like you. You were always so warm, so kind, so easy to be around. Your laugh was the spark to light the fire in his heart day after day. He wanted nothing more than to return the favor, even if he felt he could never give you as much as you gave him.

He was never good with words. They always tumbled out of his mouth, in the wrong direction; too scratchy, too many sharp edges. He thought he was better with his hands. He wanted to show you how much he cared about you, how much he appreciated you–and how much he wanted you. Your body was soft, and pliable under his hot hands. Your kisses scattered goosebumps across his body every time. It seemed like you wanted him too, every time he’d grind against you while making out, every time his hands would grope your ass.

Yet you always stopped him before it got that far.

Ace slams his mug down on the table, beer sloshing over the mug’s lip and spilling over his hands. He bites down on his teeth, until his jaw hurts.

“This is ridiculous!” he hisses, eyes slightly unfocused as he glares across the table at Marco.

Marco in his infinitesimal amount of patience, casually throws back the remainder of his drink, tanned throat exposed. “You’re ridiculous,” he says, licking a corner of his lips where a drop of beer had collected.

Ace glares at Marco’s neck, wishing he could wrap his fingers around it and strangle him.

“How exactly am I ridiculous? What are you trying to say? Can you speak plainly for once?” Ace barks his questions–a metaphorical barrage of fists he tries to aim at Marco’s impudent face.

“I would,” Marco starts holding out his mug for it to be refilled. “If you’d let me get a word in. This is part of your problem.” Marco pauses, and raises a brow. Ace lights the tip of one index finger and contemplates tracing that questioning eyebrow to burn the hair right off. “You’re probably coming on way too strong.”

Ace groans. “Shut the fuck up,” he whines, as he leans over, elbows on the table. His face is hiding behind his unusually warm hands when your voice floats over to him; a siren at sea swimming in circles around his head.

“Honestly!” your voice is thin–embarrassed, and when he peeks through his fingers to look for you–he sees you quickly run a hand through your hair; a tell tale sign of your discomfort. “That’s not the case at all.”

There’s giggling at the table as the nurses crowd around you. He sees the redhead lean over, a mischievous grin on her face. “Aren’t you at least a little curious? You have been fooling around for months. It’s about time.”

You groan as you finish your drink–it was bright blue from where he sees it swirling in your glass. “Yes, but–” You cut yourself off to sigh before proceeding: “The problem isn’t that I don’t want to. I do,” you finish, cheeks aflame. “The problem is that...” You abandon your glass on the table to gesture with your hands, fingers splayed, a big space between your palms. “The problem is he’s–” your eyes grow wide. “So big!”

He is used to the heat of his own body–a sense of being under the sun even on the cloudiest day–but it still fears searing when your words finally sink in. A hook pulls at the pit of his stomach, threatening to bring him down, ship and all. He stands up abruptly. A drink spills, and he vaguely hears Marco saying something about decorum but he flips him off as he walks away.

All he can hear, and all he can see is you at that table, cheeks bright and your mouth that was too busy smiling at others instead of kissing him. Ace interrupts your little group talk, and you stand up stammering an excuse.

“I need to borrow y/n,” he says to the crowd, a big smile on his freckled face. “I saw a seagull and I need her to go look at it.”

It was the stupidest thing you had ever heard, but you still nod enthusiastically and allow him to lead you away. You’re in his familiar room aboard the ship, when you prepare to launch your interrogation. You don’t have time. He crashes his mouth against yours before you can speak. His hands are fiery as they travel up your back, underneath your shirt. As you gasp, he slips his soft tongue into your mouth, brushes it against yours. Suddenly, you’re pressed against the wall. He nips at your jaw, hot and wet kisses trailing behind him as he moves towards your neck. As he sucks on your pulse, so hard you are sure he’ll leave a mark behind, his hips start pressing into yours. You feel him hard under his pants, his cock teasing you; reminding you of what you had been so scared to face head on.

You moan when his hands slide away from your back and towards your chest. He kneads your breasts gently.

“If that’s what you’re so worried about,” he mumbles to the crook of your neck, pressing his hardened cock against your heated core. “You should have told me sooner.” He bites down on the soft flesh of your shoulder. You cry out, dig your nails into his back. He moans softly, hips never stopping. You feel yourself grow wetter every time he brushes against your sensitive nub just right.

“I’ll get you fired up enough,” he mumbles against your neck, licks up the column of it with the flat of his tongue. You feel the trail of saliva hot, then cold as the air hits it. There are goosebumps running across your body.

“You’re gonna be so wet,” he says almost in a whine against your ear. “Fitting me in won’t be a problem at all.” His breath is hot as his lips brush the shell of your ear, and his fingers even hotter as he slips one hand between your legs. He presses up against your dripping slit, pushing your panties into you. “Get ready, babe. Here I come.”

Eustass Kid

Kid was aware of his limitations. He was not gentle, or soft. He could not grasp tiny little pieces of metal between his index finger and his thumb. He also knew what he was good at. Your aversion to his tactics of seduction made him feel almost incompetent. Almost. Because he knew there was no way his skills had grown rusty, or tattered. He was damn good at it. He was sure, after all, because he could feel your slick coating his fingers when he’d rifle through your folds. You’d lay squirming, and panting underneath him, face flushed, neck and chest wearing matching splotches of pink and reds.

The way you’d moan his name as you’d cum around his fingers, was enough for him to know you liked it. You’d cling to his broad back, fingernails scratching down lines on his skin. You wanted him. He knew that much. Then why did you keep running away? You had come so close to letting him go all the way. He had been there, angry red tip literally at your dripping entrance, before you balked and called the whole thing off.

Kid was many things, but he knew when ‘stop’ meant stop.

It didn’t mean he was happy about it.

He couldn’t take it out on you, and someone had to pay–so he made the crew his targets. They were easy pickings, and it helped ease his mood slightly; very very slightly. His large feet clank down the corridor, Killer by his side mumbling softly about his attitude. Kid considers telling him to ease himself off the ship, or to suck his dick if he’s so inclined to be on it and all over his business when he hears your voice around the corner.

“No no,” your voice is insistent. He stops just around the corner, and peeks around even when he feels Killer’s hand on his shoulder. Kid shrugs him off. “I mean, he’s already so big, like generally speaking!” you enthuse in a loud whisper, which Eustass finds isn’t a whisper at all. “But when we kiss…” you trail off, and shift your weight on the spot. The sight of you, wiggling shyly, eyes downcast is enough to pull a crooked smile out of him. “And, well I’ve seen it and I don’t think it’ll fit. That’s all I’m saying.”

He tries not to laugh. He tries really hard, but the barking laughter comes out anyway. It echoes in the corridor as he stomps towards you. Your eyes grow wide, and before you can stammer a greeting, he is picking you up.

“Let’s go,” he says as he throws you over his shoulder. You squeak, face growing hotter. He raises a hand and brings it down on your ass, the sound of a resounding slap filling your ears. He walks awkwardly, his stiffened cock between his legs demanding attention. In his bedroom, he tosses you on the bed. Your hands go out as he climbs over you. You try to press them against his barrel chest. “I gotta tell you,” he mumbles against your cheek. His tongue is hot as he licks up your face. “I’m not a liar.”

You shiver underneath him, and rub your legs together. His voice is gravely, and it scratches over your skin. You feel your panties growing wet.

“So I can’t say I’ll be gentle,” he speaks into your hair, fingers grasping the fabric of your shirt. He pulls, and buttons tear and scatter–flying across the room. You gasp as your skin is exposed to the cool air, and to Eustass’ heated gaze. He looks as if he has been starved for days, and he would want nothing more than to devour you whole, bones and all. When he drags his eyes away from your heaving chest, he meets your gaze and it takes your breath away. Kid licks his lips. “Feel free to slap me or choke me if you need me to stop,” he drawls out of the corner of his crooked smile. “Although,” his smile grows slightly sinister, a smirk that makes your body grow cold and hot all at once. “I might be into that too.”

Trafalgar D. Law

He would sooner die than admit it. He would sooner bite his tongue, and choke on his blood than to admit the selfish side of him; how needy and desperate he can be for your touch, to feel satisfaction as he drowns inside you, buried to the hilt, just like he fantasizes about every night. Law would sooner die than to push you into doing something you're not comfortable with, and so he deals with his stiff little problem all on his own. For weeks, he furiously pumps his fist over his cock, neck strained, chest rising and falling as he tries to smother his own moans. No matter how vivid his imagination can be, no matter what scenario he can picture, it is never enough. His hand is too familiar; not soft enough, not warm enough, never wet enough no matter how many globs of spit he drops on the bulbous tip of his cock.

If he got into the habit of being honest with himself, Law would admit that honestly: he just wants to hear you fall apart as he pounds into you. He wants to see your tears cling to your curly lashes, and wants to see your bottom lip quiver as you struggle to take the full length of his cock.

He tries to reign in these thoughts as he swirls a gulp of whiskey around his mouth. He is embarrassingly at half mast under the table, Bepo chattering away at his elbow. His golden gaze takes in the shape of your shoulders from a distance. Penguin and Shachi are having a conversation about wanted posters, one they keep trying to enthusiastically drag him into. Law purposefully ignores them. Your face is enigmatic as you talk to Ikkaku and he strains his ears to hear you over his chatty crewmates.

“He’s scary,” you say, one palm slapping the table noisily. Your fingers are splayed, and your eyes wide. Law frowns at the sight and at your words. He doesn’t get to ponder over it further before the conversation starts up again.

Ikkaku scoffs at you, and shakes her head as she pours rum into your shot glass. “I can sympathize,” she begins, although she wears a frown. “But then, why are you two dating again? I know the captain can be a little intimidating.”

You shake your head furiously, hair moving with your actions.

“That’s not what I meaaann,” you whine, cheeks flushed bright. Law scoffs. You were a terrible drinker. He did not understand why you insisted on the habit. “He’s not scary like that. His…” You stop and press your lips together, trying to think of how to phrase it better. You use your hand and point upwards, imitating a gesture Law uses a lot, but suddenly you point the finger down to the table. Ikkaku’s eyes slowly follow your actions. “Little Law is the scary one!”

You tell her, you’ve felt it before, as you sat on his lap, tongues brushing hotly against one another. You had felt it, hot and thick against your core, when his mouth was busy sucking on your nipples, making you so wet you’d grind desperately against him–anything for a form of release.

Ikkaku shrugs and throws back a shot of rum.

“Can’t relate!” she declares without an ounce of sympathy. Your mouth twists in a grimace, and you bang a fist on the table, ready to fight for your case when a hand grasps your wrist.

You look up and follow the arm to see the face of its owner. Law is frowning down at you, ears bright red. You swallow thickly. He leans down until his mouth hovers around your ear.

“Come with me right now if you don’t want me to make your clothes disappear in front of everyone,” he mumbles. You gasp as he brushes his nose against the shell of your ear. His thumb brushes the soft inside of your wrist. “There are much scarier things about me than the size of my dick.”

You feel his free arm wrap around your waist and he pulls you up from the chair into a standing position. You spin around in his arms, and gasp when he pulls you against him. His cock is stiff against your soft belly. One of his hands keeps you pressed tight against him, sitting on the dip of your back. His other hand still holds your wrist, tightly against his own chest. His face swoops towards yours, so close you can smell the whiskey off his breath.

“Like my lack of patience. Please,” he enthuses in a slow hiss. His breath is warm against your mouth, as he brushes his lips against yours. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Roronoa Zoro

He has always been a man of discipline. He trains hard, and lives for battle. When he decided to become the strongest swordsman he gave himself up for a deadman and dead men don’t need or want.

At least, that’s what he tells himself at night, when you slip away from his body before he can smother the heat between you that consumes him by sliding inside your pussy.

Years by Luffy’s side had taught him patience and understanding. Still, he couldn’t understand you completely. He couldn’t understand why he could kiss you the way he kissed you–feverishly, as if he could taste you past your teeth and tongue. He couldn’t understand why he could touch you the way he did, how he’d slide his callused hands over your smooth skin, how you’d let him play with your nipples until you were whimpering under his touch, how you’d let him rub your clit until you were so wet he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you’d taste on his tongue. He especially couldn’t understand how happy you were to ride his thigh, to rub yourself on his muscle until you soaked right through his pants, or how sometimes that wasn’t enough for you and you’d straddle him, and rub against his hardened cock until you cried out his name. All of that but the moment he’d pump his cock, and lick his lips at the sight of your dripping pussy, you’d immediately press your hands against his lower belly to stop him.

You confuse him, and it infuriates him. He wants to understand you, and he wants to keep things simple. He wraps his lips around the mouth of the bottle of sake–a trusted, simple, and loyal friend. He takes a large swig, and then another as he sees Luffy, Chopper and Usopp doing some kind of cha cha line out of the corner of his eyes. Brook is singing a tune Zoro would rather not hear, and he leads the line enthusiastically laughing.

Franky and Robin sit together at the end of the table, their faces close together. Zoro blinks as he frowns, before drinking again. He sees Nami drag you towards Robin, and squeezes you in between her and Franky. Franky starts to protest but something you say makes him pause. Zoro feels his heart accelerate. He tries–concentrates–to shut out Luffy’s loud calls for more meat from Sanji, by leaning back on his chair. He closes his eyes, and crosses his arms over his chest.

He hears you pause, and it’s like he could feel your eyes on his skin–feel them rake over his arms and shoulders. You start to speak again, and suddenly, your little problem makes so much sense to him. You were scared of his size? Zoro tries not to smirk, and he stays still for so long he eventually does fall asleep. When he comes to, he catches you slipping away from dinner.

Zoro follows you quietly. He moves silently in your shadow, his gaze on you ravenous and seeking. You look so good from behind, he feels himself grow hard, stiffening in his underwear. He loves watching your hips sway, your juicy ass that stretches the fabric of your skirt. You reach the library, still not sensing him behind you. As you reach towards a bookshelf, a finger tracing the spine of an encyclopedic tome, Zoro slides up behind you. You gasp, startled at the sudden unexpected heat, but his fingers slide over the sides of your thighs and you immediately recognize the calluses.

You hum, and lean into his touch, as a warmth spreads throughout your body. “Zoro,” you breathe out with a trembling voice. “What are you doing here?”

He draws circles over your skin as he moves his hands forward towards the inside of your thighs. His breath tickles the nape of your neck. “What do you think?” he asks you. He takes in the scent of your soap, and drops a kiss with parted lips on the side of your neck. “Hunting you down since you’re a scared little rabbit.”

His mouth is hot and light against your skin as he drops feathery kisses over your exposed shoulders. “If you were so scared, you should have told me,” he mumbles against your shoulder, as he presses another kiss on the soft flesh there. His hands move slowly, up and down your inner thighs. His thumbs brush against your skin, each time higher towards the center of you. “Never pegged you for a coward,” he whispers against your ear. You tremble under his touch, the tip of his thumb brushing ever so slightly against your panties. You gasp, and spread your legs wider before you can stop yourself. “See?” he adds with a chuckle, one hand resting on the inside of your thigh to keep you from moving. His free hand moves to your clothed pussy. He rubs against it gently with his fingers. “I can be gentle. But only one time.” He nips at the top of your ear. You cry out in surprise as he adds pressure to his touch, rubbing over your panties on top of your clit. “Only this time.” You moan under his touch, and arch your back. You rest your head on his chest, and he nips at your exposed neck. You hear him groan against your ear when he sucks on your earlobe. “If you keep being like this, I’m not going to be able to go easy on you,” he tells you as you moan again. He feels your slick coating your panties, and it stays on his fingertips as he traces the outline of your slit. He captures your bottom lip in an upside down kiss for a slow and noisy suck. When he releases it with a soft smack, he licks your lips. “And whose fault would that be?”

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