#(i did write my name in the sand actually )
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listen. i have so many replies in my head but im ugh--- very sick and i just wanna sleep and watch fungi zombies. so maybe tonight i'll do replies. maybe. anyway until then enjoy a munday picture of me in the Sahara desert because i desperately miss the sun on my skin.
#munday.#kayla said.#tbd.#( i didnt buy myself flowers but )#(i did write my name in the sand actually )
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Oh yeah I have my extremely dark take on the time travel trope, with a young wizard who's had the fate of the world placed on his shoulders by not only his magic teacher and his friends, but by centuries old assholes who are judging his worth beyond the grave and a racist egomaniac dick who's trying to kill him before he reaches the super powerful magic artifacts he wants.
He's technically victorious the first time, having (mostly) solved all his friends problems and gained the (hesitant) approval of the old farts to guard the magic shit their trying to hide (only in the face of someone ELSE already being aware of and hunting it down for evil reasons) inorder to save the world. But at the cost of his mentors life and . . . Well he thinks he can do better alright? What if he just-
oh shit oh no he's forcibly rewritten his past selfs memories, and alot of them didn't even make the trip, and his magic is all wacky and harder to keep control of, but hes considered even more of a prodigy because he already knows alot of these spells fuck! now everyone is in danger AGAIN and this time he accidentally got a class mate killed what if he just-
SHIT! SHIT ITS EVEN WORSE NOW! he overwrote his already overwritten memories, losing even MORE in the process! Ok this is fine! He can work with this! He'll go back to school and ask for help this time! Hes just a kid! He doesn't have to be the one solving everything when theres perfectly good reliable adults around! Maybe if he explains to the old guys they'll have ideas and-
SHIT! THEY SHUT HIM DOWN AND CALLED HIM A THREAT IMMEDIATELY AND HE HAD TO OVERPOWER THEIR ENCHANTMENTS TO GET ACCESS TO THE MAGIC THING TO REWIND TIME AGAIN! atleast now he knows he can do that (but he doesn't think he had enough power to do that before so what is) OK! what if he just complied with the evil guy this time in exchange for his loved ones saf- FUCK! HES BEEN DECLARED ENEMY NUMER ONE AND THEY ALL HATE HIM! EVEN WORSE THEY ALL ENDED UP DEAD WITHOUT HIM THERE TO PROTECT THEM AND oh no okay, let's try this again-
oh God he's not even able to really tell what's real memories and what's delusional hallucinations now, fuck it! If he just let's himself be taken hostage, brainwashes his cells guards and every poor sucker he passes and kills the evil fuck with his own army as he escapes nothing can go wrong-
oh no oh no oh no his magic is wildly unstable now because of all his time travel fuckery and he got killed at the same time as the evil fuck in a mutually destructive battle and it sent him back without meaning to! He cant tell whats real anymore, and he just attacked his dad teacher on accident oh god oh fuck-
Fuck it! Fuck you! Fuck your secret magic shit! Fuck your evil plans! Fuck all of your moral high ground bullshit and stupid friendship i can barely even remember but just know i crave! What if I just break this shit-
Oh God oh no fuck ow ow it burns it burns it hurts so much I miss my friends make it stop please I'm sorry I want my dad I'm sorry I'm sorry make it stop i looked into infinity and it blinked and something is tearing and-
. . . eyo wtf why am I a child? Why are all my fucked up memory's gone?? I know I had those??? WTF WHY IS ADULT DEAD ME TELLING ME I'M 500 YEARS IN THE FUTURE?!? I SPLIT MYSELF IN TWO?!?!? WTF IS A TIME TURNER AND WHY AM I COVERED IN SAND?!
.
.
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WHO THE FUCK IS HARRY POTTER!?!
the worst part about having huge autistic fantasy worlds in your head is that it takes like 8 billion years to turn that into something substantial you can show people
#harry potter#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#hogwarts oc#time travel#not a time travel fix it though#a time travle break everything#hogwarts legacy oc#magical bullshit#whump writing#angst#hurt/ no comfort#my boy gets no happy ending#but at the same time#another version of him grew old and lived the life he wanted#lost everything and now is has to go through puberty again ON TOP OF THAT#harry potter au#harry potter oc#he started in ravenclaw#then spent two years in hufflepuff#then his last years would have been in slytherin if he bothered actually getting sorted#that is quite literally all the information i have about this poor little blorbo#i have replayed his story over and over in my head for months though#he doesn't deserve this#he doesn't even have a name yet#his adult self was left standing in a pile of magic sand#and he ended up making timeturners out of it#thats why their so rare and dangerous#because literally no one can recreate what he did to MAKE the sand in the first place
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only you my girl, only you babe
PAIRING: rafe cameron x pogue!fem!reader
SUMMARY: four times your “enemy” rafe hinted he cares for you and the one time you actually caught on it. OR you thought rafe doesn’t like you because he hates all pogues. little did you know he has always looked at you differently.
WORD COUNT: 6.7k
WARNINGS: drinking, drugs, swearing, blood and wounds, kinda canon rafe (omg kez????), obx cliches (mainly the whole ‘kooks vs. pogues’ thing from S1), extremely ‘only soft to you and no one else’ vibes, fluff, angry confessions, heavy pining, mentions of y/n
EDITH SPEAKS: oh. my. god. if you were there on my old blog you would know how long it’s been since I first introduced my idea of writing this fic. I got stumped on it way too often and then forgot about it for months, and then decided to abandon it. But I found it again and I got my inspiration back and now I’m so so happy it’s actually finished!! <3
major thank you to @zyafics who helped me last year when i was writing the fic and helped me brainstorm ideas for it :’) kissing your beautiful mind just like always zya xxx
this really is a labor of love and I genuinely couldn’t be happier 🥹I would highly appreciate all kinds of feedback and reblogs, because they really are extremely motivating and fun to get back to! I hope you enjoy reading, and i hope these 6k words are worth all your time and attention :)
masterlist / join my taglist / requests
PROLOGUE
“Stay off Figure 8!”
The all too familiar deep voice boomed across the beach, a completely dead silence started to surround the atmosphere. A loud groan was heard along with the unsteady thump of a person falling onto the sand, causing people standing around to gasp.
JJ struggled to get up from the ground, the big punch he received from the one and only caused his nose to bleed non stop, and when he barely opened his eyes, he was met with a pair of icy cold blues staring back at him.
“You hear me, Maybank? Stay. Off. Figure. 8. You and all your filthy pogue friends.”
JJ tried getting up and talking back, he really did, but the one and only Rafe Cameron punched him so hard he lost all his balance. Blood kept on flowing in a never ending fashion, and JJ could see dark spots in his vision, his mind feeling light headed.
“JJ!”
Rafe froze in his position, not looking up from JJ at the sound of JJ’s name being called out. The voice, the perfume, the general aura of the presence; Rafe didn’t have to look up to see who it was.
“JJ oh my god please tell me you’re okay,” you mumbled, your voice almost trembling with the worry dripping from your words. You got on your knees and gently cradled JJ’s face, pulling it into your lap as you brushed his hair aside to look at the extent of damage on his face. JJ mumbled something incoherently and you let out a sigh, relieved he wasn’t completely knocked out.
Rafe stood there on the side, his eyes widened as he saw how your fingers ran through his hair and wiped off his blood, he saw how careful you were with him, he saw how you mumbled small words of sweet nothingness to him.
Rafe didn’t know what to say, he stood there limply as he watched you help JJ up, let him loop an arm across your shoulders so you could help him walk back to The Cut.
As he saw you both walk back, he felt his blood boil. The rage built in him slowly like a thunderstorm, his breathing started to become erratic and his fists clenched tightly on his sides.
“FUCK!”
Rafe’s foot kicked across an empty beer can buried in the sand, causing it to fly and topple a few meters further from him.
He wouldn’t have done anything to JJ, heck, he wouldn’t have looked at him if he knew you were on the beach too.
The look on your face when you saw how hurt JJ was, the concern clouding all over your facial features; from the furrow of your brow to the frown on your lips, he knew you now hated him more than ever. He knew you would never want to look at him ever again. He knew you would never acknowledge his presence ever again.
He knew there was no chance you would look at him the way he looked at you.
ONE — THE PARTY
It was crazy.
The lights were neon and bright and they pierced your eyes harshly. The people at the party were almost sticking next to each other, their sweat, weed, alcohol, and an ungodly mix of expensive and cheap colognes being the only thing you can smell.
You almost gagged as you maneuvered your way through the sweaty crowd, but you finally did, finding yourself taking deep breaths as you leaned against the countertop of the makeshift bar in the kitchen, letting the awful smell wash away from your nose palette.
When you started feeling better, you got yourself a nice cold beer, letting the icy liquid run down your throat, sending chills down your spine but in a way you relished deeply.
It was a scene like any other party; there were people dancing, some catching a smoke break at the side, some making out on the other side, nothing new.
And it wasn’t anything new when a fight broke out.
You didn’t know who the boys were who started to fight; all you saw was them go at each other like wolves, their courage mostly coming from the plethora of drugs in their system, profanities after profanities spilling out their mouth, and you were just watching from the side, completely nonchalant about it.
But you were not so nonchalant when glass bottles were involved in hurting the other; you being in close proximity to the fighting pair resulted in one of the flying broken piece of glass cutting your hand, making you yell out at the sharp pain. The cut looked deep as the blood didn’t stop gushing out, but no one focused on you. Everyone was too busy watching the fight, trying to stop it, or just enjoying it for the heck of it.
You hissed in pain, your own beer bottle set aside as you squeezed your eyes shut from the stinging pain spreading from your hand to your forearm. The blood started to trickle down from your palm down to the floor, and you had no idea what to do or who to go to.
It all became a huge mess very quick, you on the side with your hand bleeding, and the rest of the party too busy to peg the immature boys on.
You felt a tall shadow stalking over you, the scent of the rich cologne all too familiar.
“That looks bad,” you heard in your ear.
You turned to be face to face with Rafe. He was stalking down your wound, the blood flow not really stopping as the drops dripped down on the hardwood floor. His expression wasn’t one of worry. But it wasn’t one of detest either. It was just… emotionless.
“Yeah no shit,” you muttered, looking down at your wound too.
“Here,” he said, fishing out his handkerchief from his pocket. “This should help for the moment…” he muttered as he gently took your hand and wrapped the handkerchief around your cut.
You looked at his hands working around your hand, covering up the cut. The pearly white cloth was quickly stained with a deep red of your blood, slowly spreading throughout the cloth.
“You should get that checked once, just in case you need stitches,” he said, tying a knot to fix the cloth in its place. Just like his facial expression, his voice is also emotionless, monotone words leaving his lips.
“Why are you doing this?” You couldn’t help but ask, out of all the people, Rafe was there to help you with your wound.
“Because you’re bleeding a little too much,” he said, taking a step back from you. His hands then buried in the pockets of his jeans as he shrugged at you.
You looked up in his icy blue eyes, not a single emotion in them. You weren’t sure what to say, finding yourself to be quite stunned which was never really the case; whenever Rafe talked to you, you were always quick to talk back, never letting him be the one who said the last words.
“Right… thanks,” you muttered, looking down at the securely tied handkerchief around your hand.
“Yeah,” he said with a nod of his head, and left you alone.
TWO — THE FAILED DATE
You clutched on the tablecloth out of utter anxiousness, your eyes darting around the room. You took a look at your watch for the umpteenth time, and saw that the time you were supposed to be meeting someone got farther and farther in the past with each passing second.
It had now been over an hour, the waiters had politely asked you if you would like to eat something, and all you asked for was a simple glass of water, because what if he shows up?
But now you could very clearly see that he won’t.
You had a date, which unlike the past dates you had been on, really excited you. You thought he was a nice boy, someone you met while you were buying some beer for you and your friends. You don’t remember how the conversation started, but you both used to talk quite often, numbers exchanged and texts sent under the pale moonlight of 3 am.
He finally asked you out on a date, and you were thrilled, to say the very least. But now, here you were at a fancy restaurant on Figure 8 which you barely got to go to, absolutely impatient as your knee bounced up and down out of anxiousness and embarrassment.
You felt tears prick your eyes but you were quick to not let them fall, wiping them away from your waterline. You looked down in your lap, your fingers nervously pulling onto each other as the reality of being ditched settled in you. You took another look at your phone, desperate for any text, but there were no notifications.
But then, you felt the sunlight falling onto you from the window next to you being blocked by a huge shadow, and when you looked up, you saw Rafe.
Of course, Rafe, out of all the people.
He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at you; your slightly red eyes and the tears accumulated in them didn’t go unnoticed by him.
“Why are you here all alone?” He asked you, still standing in front of you.
You just shook your head as a reply and picked up your belongings from the table. “It’s none of your business Rafe… I’ll just leave…” you muttered, but before you could do anything else, Rafe sat in the seat opposite to you.
He took a look at your outfit, noticing it’s something different than the attire you’re usually sporting, something more formal.
It didn’t take him long to connect two and two together to figure out everything.
“You got ditched huh?” He said silently. His tone came off condescending to you, even though he didn’t mean to sound that way at all.
You mentally braced yourself to get embarrassed by him, ready to hear a comment or two from him, because that’s what he did: say rude things to people, especially Pogues, because he felt like it.
But he didn’t say anything.
Absolutely nothing.
You looked up at him, small streaks of tears had started making their way down. “I told you it’s none of your business,” you said, sniffling.
He only sighed as he leaned back in the chair, watched you carefully as your head hung low, silent sobs escaping you as you occasionally wiped away your tears.
“Listen, it’s not your fault okay?” He mumbled. You looked up from your lap with your eyes filled with tears. “I know you must be feeling really bad right now, and there is nothing wrong about it, but don’t think too much about it,”
“I… I got ditched Rafe. I am sitting here all alone in this expensive restaurant crying my eyes out. How can I not think too much about it?” You whispered, your eyebrows creased together.
He leaned a bit closer to you. “I’m trying to make you feel better…” He said softly.
“Well,” you sniffled, looking away from him, “I didn’t ask for it, okay?”
These were the last words you said, before you got up from your chair and left the restaurant, whilst Rafe watched you walk away, wanting to hold your hand and to stop you, but he just couldn’t.
THREE — THE BEACH CLEAN UP
You looked up at the sun, wiping the sweat off your forehead as you took in a deep breath. The summers only seemed to be getting hotter this time around, and the fact that you were at a beach clean up at noon was not helping your situation.
You liked to pick up work like beach clean ups in between your main job at the island club so you could make a little side money.
As you got back to picking up the trash from the beach, throwing it in the little basket you’re carrying with yourself, you looked up to hear some chatter besides the otherwise quiet beach and the other people working quite silently.
It was a group of Kooks – their expensive clothes and accessories shining under the bright rays of the sun completely unmissable. And in the group of them, a pair of electric blue eyes had its gaze fixed on you intensely.
You didn’t even know why Rafe was there. Or why the other Kooks were there. They didn’t have any need to participate in these kinds of jobs. Everything was just handed down to them, daddy’s money being what they thrive on.
You ignored them and got back to working, focusing on clearing the trash from the specific area of the beach you were at. Just a few minutes later you felt the sunlight being blocked by a huge shadow, and when you looked up, you saw Rafe right by your side, separated from his Kook friends.
You wanted to say something, but you weren’t sure what, so you peeled your focus away from him and got back to picking up the trash and throwing it into the basket.
“Here,” he said almost suddenly, causing you to look up at him. “I’ll hold it for you,” he gestured the basket in your hand, and even proceeded to hook two of his fingers into its side, holding onto it.
Before you could have protested, he gently pulled the basket from your hand, causing you to let go of it. You wouldn’t lie, your basket had started to get heavy from the innumerable aluminum cans and other trash sitting in it.
“Thanks,” you murmured under your breath and from the corner of your eye, you saw Rafe acknowledged you with a nod of his head.
For the next hour or so, you went around picking up the trash and Rafe followed you holding the basket for you as if it weighed nothing, and you kept on dropping the trash in it. It was oddly comfortable, the silence between you two as you weren’t sure what to say – and frankly, you thought that was the best.
As the clean up came to an end, everyone was sitting in the sand, and light laughter and chatter filled the group. The afternoon had started to turn into evening, the bright rays of the sun turning into something more warm, more comforting instead of burning. You sat in the sand, leaning back on your forearms a little away from the rest, just letting the summer breeze blow past you gently.
Rafe sat down next to you, and held out something. You saw it was a glass of iced lemonade he got from the little surf shop.
“You didn’t have to,” you mumbled, eyeing the glass in his hand, the condensation on the surface causing water droplets to slide against the smooth glass.
“It’s okay,” he said. “You’ve worked all afternoon. Have it, it’s my treat.”
You took another second or two before taking the glass from him, sipping on the cool, sour yet sweet liquid and allowing it to run down your throat. He remained seated next to you as you both watched the waves crash on the shore, the seagulls flying over and the sun only delving you into a comforting warmth more and more with each passing second, and slurped on your little lemony drinks.
FOUR — THE TIP
The day was slowly turning into dusk, the bright afternoon light leaving to welcome darker pink and orange streaks cast by the almost setting sun. This was the time when the island club started filling in more and more, the bar being one of the first parts of the club to get exceptionally occupied.
You were busy serving an older woman, your mind completely occupied to make the martini, when out of the corner of your eye, you caught the all too familiar gist of a head of dirty blonde curtain bangs.
You turned your head to meet Rafe’s blue eyes looking intently at you. The way he was focused on you, his gaze not wavering for even a fraction of a second, and the strong intensity behind them made you feel like the only girl on this planet. Though, of course, that feeling was short-lived when you were snapped out of your daze by a customer calling out for you.
You were quick to rush over to the customer, who had just finished the drink you had served him. He left the money for his drink where he was sitting and was already making his way out of the club.
You picked up the dollar bills to see he paid completely for the drink, but the tip wasn’t even touching the bare minimum. You didn’t know what the reason was, you had been kind to the customer, made his drink perfectly and served it on time, and even presented it as aesthetically as you could. Even then, your tip wasn’t up to the mark. Sighing, you made your way over to the other end of the bar counter where you kept your tip jar, which coincidentally also happened to be where Rafe was sitting.
“Everything alright?” He asked, eyeing your woeful expression as you were putting the newly received ‘tip’ (if it can be even called that) in the jar. His eyes raked over the jar, and he couldn’t help but find it a lot more empty than it should be.
“Yeah everything’s fine,” You mumbled, keeping the jar aside. You wiped your hands once on the towel slung in the loop of your apron before looking up at Rafe. “What can I get you?” You asked.
“A neat whiskey’s fine,” He said and you nodded. You served him the neat whiskey, setting the glass right in front of him. He gave you an acknowledging nod and wrapped his fingers around the glass and bought it closer to his mouth, drinking from it.
You decided to work around the bar a bit, just cleaning everything up, preparing everything you may need in advance, practically anything you could get your hands at – because anything was better than having to talk to Rafe, who, by the way, didn’t take his eyes off you for even a second. His gaze was firm and jaw was set as he just saw you work around the bar, silently sipping on his whiskey.
You kept yourself wonderfully distracted as you served the customers and prepared everything behind the bar, but every so often, your gaze would magnetically be pulled back to Rafe, and you would always catch him looking at you.
When you noticed Rafe’s almost done with his glass of whiskey, you made your way back to him.
“Another one?” You asked, and he only silently nodded as his reply. You refilled his glass with the neat whiskey, and leaned back against the counter, just simply glancing around the scene of the bar and the club and catching a small break.
A silence fell over the two of you, the light chatter and the music playing in the club thrumming against your eardrums. Rafe was just silently sipping the whiskey, not saying or doing anything, just sitting there and having his drink.
“So uh… you’re alone here tonight?” You asked, your words feeling cautious. “I mean, you’re usually here with Topper, or with someone, atleast,”
He set his almost finished glass at the counter, his fingers still wrapped around the clear glass. His gaze found yours, a warm blue instead of the usual icy one sinking into your eyes.
“Topper was busy,” He muttered, “so I came alone,”
You just quietly hummed at his words, and from the corner of your eye you saw one of your customers finishing their drink and leaving their money on the counter. You went to get it, and when you did, you saw it’s the same thing repeating itself: the ‘tip’.
You sighed, slightly aggravated as you made your way back to where the top jar was, and dumped the money in it.
“Will it kill them to just pay something to their bartender?” You sighed, leaning against the counter and tilting your head back, closing your eyes for a moment. Your shift was close to coming to an end and if that’s the money you had to go home with tonight, well, it’d be kind of fucked.
You could feel Rafe’s gaze on you, but he didn’t say anything, just finished the last sip of his whiskey in a gulp. You were about to ask him for another refill, but you heard someone calling you out.
You turned around to see it was one of your coworkers, who told you were being called inside. You turned to look back at Rafe, but he just shook his head, and gestured to you to leave. You followed your coworker and went inside to where he was leading to.
After being freed from the quite useless meetup with your manager, you finally walked back out to the bar after 15 minutes. When you did, you saw Rafe’s stool was empty, and there was money kept on the counter.
You approached the counter, and the moment you saw the money, your eyes almost fell out from how wide they got.
Ten crisp hundred dollar notes sat unfolded on the marbled counter along with the money for the whiskey, and you couldn’t believe your eyes. For a second, it felt unreal. You reached your hand out and your fingertips touched the paper, and you realised the money was real. You picked the notes up, your lips parted in shock as you gaze at them.
Rafe tipped you $1000.
1000 fucking dollars.
Your gaze immediately turned towards the exit of the bar, and of course, you couldn’t spot Rafe – you had completely missed him.
You carefully kept the notes in your tip jar and sealed the jar shut. Through the glass, you couldn’t remove your gaze from the notes, your mind now completely clouded with Rafe, and his tip.
ONE — THE BROKEN DOWN CAR
You let out a frustrated groan, kicking the tyre in utter vexation, which helped you release just the tiniest fraction of your rage. You fished out your phone from your pocket just to see it was nothing more than a dead device, serving you no purpose. You almost had the urge to throw the phone, but you stopped yourself at the right second, because you realized, you can’t afford to hear the sound of the glass screen cracking.
Instead, you just kicked a pebble in your path and slumped against the side door of your beat up car which decided to stop working halfway across your journey from Figure 8 to the Cut. You were at the side of the road, watching other cars and vehicles pass by as you sat there on the roadside, not having a single clue on what to do.
10… 15… 20 minutes passed and you were still in the same position, not knowing what to do and not making any effort to find out either. The road fell silent a few minutes ago, no vehicles crossing, but the silence was short lived when you heard the revving of an engine from the distance, and it came to a stop right next to you.
An all too familiar red and black bike stood next to you, the rider’s face covered by the helmet. But the bike, the gold signet ring on the index finger of the left hand, and the taut muscles peeking from under the t-shirt were more than enough to confirm who it was.
The helmet came off and Rafe’s piercing blue eyes found yours.
“What happened?” He asked, getting off his bike as he ran a hand through his hair, his curtain bangs pushed back momentarily before they fell down on both the sides of his face in a ragged middle part just like always.
“My car broke down,” you muttered as you looked up at him.
“Hm.”
He rounded around you and lifted the cover of the engine, holding it up with one hand as he inspected the engine carefully. You watched him intently, trying to figure out what the expressions on his face meant, but there weren’t any to begin with. It was a face so cold and plain, suiting well with the cold blue eyes.
“There’s some issue with the battery. You most probably need to get it replaced.” He declared, letting the cover fall back in its place.
“Oh great,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your words as you threw your head back against the door of your car. “That’ll probably cost nothing, won’t it?”
Rafe caught the sarcasm of your words very well but didn’t comment anything, just wiped the dust off his hands as he gazed down at you.
“Come on,” you heard, and as you looked up, you saw he was holding his hand out for you. “You were probably going back home yeah? I’ll drop you.”
You opened your mouth to argue but he cut you off the next instant.
“No ifs, or buts, or ‘Rafe’s, you hear me? You’re letting me drop you off, and are letting me take care of this,” he said, gesturing to your car. “I’ll call a mechanic who’ll get your car towed from here and will work on it. Now come on, none of us have got all day.”
By the end of his words, you knew whatever you’ll do is equivalent to pointless, so you gave in. You gently held his hand and helped yourself up from the road, brushing a hand over your clothes as he led you to his bike parked aside.
Rafe put his helmet on top of your head and adjusted the strap, and you heard a faint click as it fixed in place. You wanted to ask ‘what about you?’ when the only helmet was now sitting on your head, but you decided against it. He mounted the bike and gestured to you to do the same, revving the engine twice or thrice before taking off.
He was definitely faster than what you had expected, and you couldn’t help it when you gripped the sides of his t-shirt, fisting the crisp material in your fingers to provide yourself some stability. For a second, he took one hand off the handlebar and reached for your hand scrunching his t-shirt. He gently took your wrist and you let go of the fabric in the process, allowing him to tug your hand and place it on his waist. Your other hand followed suit, and both of your arms were firmly wrapped around his waist. His hand landed back at the handlebar, and he only sped up more, the wind whipping past you at a phenomenal speed.
The ride to The Cut came to an end when Rafe reached your home, and you didn’t want to admit to him or to yourself, but you felt it was short. The ride was nothing short of exhilarating, the wind whipping past your skin, and the way your arms found purchase around his waist gave you the comfort you needed.
You got off the bike, firmly planting your feet on the ground as you did so, and Rafe’s hand instinctively wrapped around your arm to make sure you remained stable. You carefully took off the helmet and handed it back to him.
“So uh,” You muttered, clearing your throat subtly, “thanks for the ride. Really,”
He shook his head, kicking the stand of the bike in place and allowing it to lean on one side. “Don’t worry,” He said, still sitting on the bike.
“You, you really didn’t have to,” You said, your fingers intertwined with each other behind your back.
“And do what? Leave you alone at the side of the road? With a broken down car and a dead phone?” Rafe sighed. “I wasn’t gonna do that y/n, you know that,”
You know that.
Yeah you do.
You swallowed the thick lump in your throat as a small silence fell over you two as none of you said anything, and you kept on contemplating how you could possibly return such a massive favor.
“You…” You began, your voice low, the words on the tip of the tongue feeling experimental, “you wanna come inside for a moment?”
Rafe’s response didn’t come out the very next second, and that small pause felt like years to you.
“Sure,” He said, getting off his bike. You let out a sigh of relief and nodded, leading him towards your place.
“It’s nothing big…” You muttered as you climbed up the stairs of the porch and he followed suit, watching you unlock the front door. “But it’s home, I guess.”
Knowing he had grown up in the richest part of the island, surrounded by everything he could possibly need and want, you had a feeling he’d definitely make some snarky comment. Cause isn’t that what he did? Rafe Cameron: the Kook prince, but also the biggest asshole?
But he was completely silent when he followed you inside and only quietly sat down on the couch you led him to, which you definitely were shocked to see, but nevertheless you didn’t really let it show on your expressions.
“So uh…” you began to speak, wanting to break through the awkward air around you two, “anything you’d like? Water? Or some tea maybe?”
He shook his head silently, and a moment later, gestured to the empty seat next to him.
“Come sit,” he said, words simple and direct, no beating around the bush, just like always.
You took a sweet moment to let his words settle in you, but when you did, you walked up to the couch and sat down next to him, a small distance maintained between the two of you. Your gaze remained fixed on your shoes, your hands perfectly intertwined in your lap, and your habit of pulling onto them – something which only tended to happen you felt really anxious – came back.
The awkward air was around you two again, settling over you two like a blanket that is way too warm for hot weather, making you feel uneasy and has got you squirming for any sort of cooling.
“Why do you do that?”
There it was.
It was out.
You blabbered out the question as if it meant nothing, when in reality, it carried so much more weight than you could possibly ever imagine.
When you were met with silence for a moment, you looked up, and saw Rafe sitting with his hands on his knees, his own gaze fixed at something on the floor. What was it exactly – you couldn’t tell.
When he still didn’t speak anything, you decided to take the chance.
“You’re always… there for me, in one way or the other. You patched my hand up at that party weeks ago, when you could’ve just ignored the situation. You saw me crying to myself when my date didn’t show up and came up to me when you could’ve just ignored the situation. You helped me at the beach clean up and carried my heavy bin for me when you could’ve ignored the situation. You saw my lack of tips and paid me a massive one when you could’ve ignored the situation. You could’ve always ignored the situation, Rafe. Just like you always do with the other Pogues. With them, you don’t care for even a damn second. But… why are you doing so much for me?”
The silence kept on greeting you, and you could feel yourself beginning to get impatient. Your gaze flickered over Rafe, and you didn’t miss the way he flexed his fingers over his knee, as if gripping it tightly.
“I, I don’t know…” He mumbled weakly. You had never heard his voice take such a softer tone. It’s as if you didn’t even know it existed.
“What– what do you mean you don’t know?” You sighed, turning your body a bit so you could face him. “That’s fucking ridiculous Rafe!”
“It’s not ridiculous I just can’t explain it the way you wish I could–”
“Well you should be able to cause I need explanations–”
“Not everything can be given a logical explanation come on–”
“Yes it can if you try hard enough–”
“I care for you okay!”
His words were loud, much louder than any of his previous words. Their loudness and conviction shut you up right at that moment, your eyes widening, and your lips slightly parted as you stared at him with a look of disbelief in your eyes.
“I–I Rafe began, running a hand through his messy bangs, and you had to control the urge to run your own fingers through them and gently push them out of his eyes, “I don’t know why, but I just can’t stand the thought of you being hurt, or being sad, or going through any discomfort. I just can’t okay? Each time I see you that way I– I immediately get to solving it cause I can’t bear to see you all troubled. I don’t want to see a single scratch on your skin or– or a single furrow in your brow I just… want to see you happy. Cause you look... so so pretty when you’re smiling, y/n, it’s… it’s unexplainable,”
A silence fell over you two as you let his words sink in you, which was a lot harder than you’d like, but you were doing it.
“And i just… wish that one day… you’d smile that pretty smile of yours because of me,” He murmured, “because I made you smile,”
You could see Rafe’s own words taking a massive toll on him, just as it was taking on you. You parted your lips to say something but you were just so horribly stumped, you couldn’t utter a single word.
He ran a ragged hand through his hair once again and stood up, clearing his throat.
“I should leave now,” He muttered, standing in front of your seated form but not facing you, but instead facing the door. Your own gaze was fixed at the floor, and you could hear your heartbeat thumping loudly in your eyes, his words repeating over and over like a broken record in your mind.
You didn’t say anything to stop him, so Rafe silently walked out the door, closing it behind himself with a silent click.
You were left all alone in your living room, Rafe’s weighted words lying heavy on your heart and mind, and the distant noise of his bike’s engine revving a bitter reminder that he wasn’t next to you anymore.
Just two days later, when you woke up in the morning and looked out your window, you saw your car parked. Not only was the battery replaced, a whole paint job was done, the ripped car seats were replaced with some fancy leather, the tyres were exchanged for upgraded ones, and for a second, you didn’t even recognise your own car.
You noticed a piece of paper held in place by the windshield wiper, and when you went outside and took the piece of paper and unfolded it, you saw a small phrase scrawled in black against the white of the paper.
don’t mention it. – R.C.
EPILOGUE
You let out a deep sigh as you watch him laugh, patting his friend’s arm in the process. A smile of pure contentment crosses your face, watching the rays of the bright, afternoon sun hit his bare skin and making it shine, his muscles seeming more pronounced than ever.
You watch him turn around and glance at you over his shoulder, his smile wide as he gives you a flying kiss. You can’t help but chuckle at the endearing action, causing you to send one his way too. He lifts up two fingers in the form of a peace sign and gestures to his friend next to him, silently conveying to you that he will be by your side in just two minutes. You give him an understanding nod and watch his head turn back to the front, getting delved into the conversation with his friend again.
You sip on your drink as you lean your head back, the sound of the boat rushing past the waves of the ocean filling your ear drums deeply. You close your eyes and just listen to the sound of waves, your mind shutting out the chitter chatter of the conversations of the other people on this boat.
Soon enough you feel the sunlight being blocked and as you open your eyes, you see him standing right in front of you, a smile on his face. The chain around his neck along with the little gold capital letter of your initial hanging from it catches the sunlight and gleams more than it usually does. He sits down next to you and silently wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. You smile as you lean into him, your fingers going immediately to fiddle with the chain, feeling the edges of the cool gold initial under your fingertips.
You take a glance up at him, running your other hand along the side of his now buzzed head, feeling the short, prickly hair gently tickle your fingers.
“Are you having a good time so far?” He mutters softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, your head tucking in the crook of his neck.
“Yeah, yeah I am,” you say quietly, your fingers mindlessly continuing fiddling with the gold initial on his chest. “You?” You ask, slightly lifting your head up from his neck.
“Oh, the absolute best time,” He says softly, looking down at you with a gentle smile on his face. “We’re on our boat, and I’m with my gorgeous girlfriend, what else could I need?”
You can’t help but softly chuckle at his words, silently shaking your head as you lean your head against his shoulder again and resume fiddling with the chain. You do it often, almost each time you get your hands on him, and he loves it; feeling the occasional brush of your fingers against his skin and the gentle tugs on the chain.
He allows you to relax against him completely, his arms around you to keep you close to him as you both sit silently, only the sound of the water and the light chatter of your friends accompanying you two.
“Thank you,” Rafe says softly, his fingertips tracing gentle patterns on your shoulder.
You furrow your brows at his words, slightly confused, as you look up at him. “What for?” You ask.
Rafe only keeps on gazing at you, a gentle smile pulling his lips. He quietly shakes his head, and with a gentle pull, he allows you to rest against him again.
“Nothing.” He stays quiet for a moment. “Everything.”
Your own lips can’t help but upturn in a small smile too. “Well, in that case…” you murmur, leaning back to look up at him, one hand coming to rest against his cheek as you gently caress the soft skin, and you slowly lean in, pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss.
“Thank you,” you mumble softly against his lips. Rafe’s hands grip your waist and he pulls you closer, not letting you pull back from the kiss. His fingers splay across your back as he kisses you, his lips moving in an unhurried, tender motion against yours.
A moment or so later, he pulls back, his eyes opening by just a fraction. You let your arms hook around Rafe’s neck, keeping him close to you.
“You’re the only one for me, Rafe,” you mumble quietly. “You’re the only one I’ll ever want.”
He leans his head against you and takes a deep breath, your scent and the smell of the ocean around you filling his nostrils deeply.
You both let the moment just simply sink in you, the sun rays bathing you in the warmest light, along with the presence of each other, which might be warmer than the sun any time of the day.
“Only you, my girl,” he mumbles quietly. “Always and forever.”
⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹
taglist: @oxpogues4lifexo / @drewstarkeys-world / @inthelibrarybtw / @mileyraes / @chenslucy / @totalswag / @wearemadeofstardust0 / @percysley / @superswaggycooch / @khaisdrz / @weirdowithnobeardo
specific tags for this fic: @writingmeraki / @ghoslyethastaryn / @congratsloserr / @helloloverz / @littlelamy / @eolsens / @wtfdudesblog / @jkrafe / @onlyrealjoy / @husherstan / @lilithblackkk / @sublimepenguinpeach-blog
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#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron oneshot#rafe cameron x you#rafe imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#drew starkey#𓂃𓏲 ⋆˙ ₊˚⊹ written by edith ꒷ ᵎᵎ#𓂃𓏲 ⋆˙ ₊˚⊹ pogue!reader ꒷ ᵎᵎ#𓂃𓏲 ⋆˙ ₊˚⊹ edith writes rafe cameron ꒷ ᵎᵎ#𓂃𓏲 ⋆˙ ₊˚⊹ divider by ianrkives ꒷ ᵎᵎ
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is it casual now? ࿐ ࿔*:・゚
modern sev x reader au: after a shitty day at work, you go to the beach to release some stress, only for a certain coworker to show up.
series masterpost: floating wc: 4.2k author's note: everything that happened in this fic did actually happen with a girl I was seeing LMAOO (except for the kiss cause i was too shy) but i’ve been wanting to write an ode to this memory for so long! though the title was named after casual by chappell roan, i actually don't recommend you listen to it when you read this because this is anything but casual ~ My Song Recommendation
Sev: Why are you at the beach at 11PM? You: ? You: Why can't I be? Sev: Because it closes at 12am Sev: And you said before you don't go out past 11PM on workdays You: I didn't know you worked for the beach patrol Sev: Lol
You stare at your phone screen, watching the three message dots bounce back and forth. You know you're being an asshole, but you can't help the snappiness in your tone. Sevika never cared or talked to you outside of work before, so why does she suddenly care now?
The typing bubbles disappear and relief washes over you, but a small, masochistic part of you wishes she'd actually sent something.
Sev: Are you good?
The three-word question glares at you from the screen.
Are you good? Absolutely not.
But this is Sev, the woman who doesn't bother with greetings or a courtesy "How are you" despite working together for months. How do you answer a question that could unravel the emotions you're barely keeping at bay, especially to someone who's never asked before?
You: Yeah You: I'll go soon so you don't have to stalk my location haha Sev: Alright
You stare at the tiny message bubble until the blue light stings your eyes. Finally, you shut off your phone and toss it onto your makeshift blanket.
The beach is eerily quiet save for the rhythmic crashing of waves against the shore. The moon hangs low in the sky, casting a silvery glow across the water and illuminating the foam as it rushes up the sand. You sit there as the incident at work replays in your mind for the hundredth time. Your head server's harsh words, the embarrassment of being scolded in public, the shame from how quick you were brought to tears - it all comes rushing back, making your chest tighten.
The cool sand beneath your fingers grounds you somewhat and you inhale deeply, letting the briny scent of the ocean fill your lungs.
A cool breeze picks up, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. You shiver as you sit there, feeling small and vulnerable, and you can't help but wonder how you'll face everyone tomorrow. The thought makes your stomach churn, and you close your eyes, trying to shut out the world for just a little longer.
As you close your eyes, a new sound cuts through the sounds of waves crashing against the shore. The crunch of rubber tires over pebbles grows louder, and suddenly, a bright light washes over you. You squint, momentarily blinded by the harsh glare of headlights.
"You really had to make me search for you, Pagli?"
Your head whips around in shock, eyes wide as you see Sevika stepping out of her car. You scramble to your feet, brushing sand from your clothes.
"Sev? What are you— You didn't have to come here," you protest.
She approaches with a casual shrug. "Well, too bad, cause I was near here anyways. Had to make sure you weren't drowning or joining a beach cult."
You can't help but let out a small, incredulous laugh. "A beach cult? Really?"
"Hey, you never know," Sevika retorts with a smirk. "I don’t know what you like to do late at night."
You shake your head, trying to maintain your composure. "I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine. You should go home."
"Nah, I think I'll stick around," she says, plopping down on the sand next to where you were sitting. "Unless you've got some secret midnight rituals planned?"
You roll your eyes, but feel your resolve weakening. "You're stubborn as hell, you know that?"
"Part of my charm," Sevika replies with a wink. "Now, are you gonna sit back down, or do I have to drag you?"
After a moment's hesitation, you sigh and lower yourself back onto the sand. "Fine, you win. But don't expect me to be good company."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Sevika says softly, her tone gentler than before. "But I'm here if you want to talk. Or not talk. Whatever you need."
“I’m good.” You replied.
“Fine with me.”
As you sit in silence, Sevika reaches into her pocket and pulls out a joint. You can't help but shake your head in disbelief.
"You're unbelievable," you mutter.
She glances at you, eyebrow raised. "What?"
"Do you just have an unlimited source of that or something?"
Sevika just shrugs, a small smirk playing on her lips as she places the joint between them. As she fumbles for her lighter, she catches you staring and pauses.
"Do you want some?" she offers casually.
You hesitate, fingers fidgeting in the sand. "No... uh, I never tried."
Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Serious?"
"Yeah," you admit, feeling a bit self-conscious.
Sevika's expression softens slightly. "Well, Pagli, I'm in a sharing mood, so..."
You shake your head quickly. "Nah, I'm gonna embarrass myself. I don't know how to..."
"It's easy," she assures you. "Just inhale, hold it for a bit, and release."
You eye the joint warily. "Uh, shit... Yeah sure."
Instead of handing it over, Sevika brings the joint to her lips and lights it. You watch intently as she demonstrates, her cheeks hollowing slightly as she inhales. She holds it for a moment, then slowly exhales a stream of smoke into the night air.
Your eyes are fixed on her, taking in every detail of the process. There's something almost mesmerizing about the way the smoke curls from her lips, dissipating into the darkness.
Sevika turns to you, holding out the joint. "Your turn, if you want."
You hesitate, your heart racing a little. Part of you wants to refuse, to play it safe knowing that you wouldn’t risk humiliation in front of your coworker when you end up messing up, but another part of you was just completely over this day.
Slowly, you reach out and take the joint from her fingers, your skin brushing against hers for a brief moment.
You take the joint, bringing it to your lips with nervous anticipation. Trying to mimic Sevika's actions, you inhale deeply. Immediately, your eyes go wide as the smoke hits your lungs. You start coughing violently, your throat burning.
To your surprise, Sevika gently pats your back. "It's okay, Pagli! Damn. You just gotta practice some more."
As your coughing subsides, you realize this is the most Sevika has ever talked to you. It's oddly comforting, despite your embarrassment. You hand the joint back to her and she casually takes a puff, with her head leaning back slightly as she exhales.
"You're not cold?"
"No, why?" you ask, puzzled.
She gestures at your outfit. "Because you haven't changed out of your work uniform."
Instead of answering - because you know where that conversation would lead - you reach for the joint again. This time, you focus intently on mimicking Sevika's technique. You inhale, hold it for a moment, and exhale. There's still a slight cough, but it's significantly better than your first attempt.
"Hell yeah!" you exclaim, feeling a small surge of pride. "I sorta did it!"
Sevika gives you a half-grin that makes your heart skip a beat. "See? You're gonna be a pro soon." She pauses, her grin widening slightly. "But you're gonna get super hungry later at this rate."
Your eyes widen as realization hits you. "Oh fuck, you're right. I didn't bring any food," you say, a slight pout forming on your lips.
"I brought something," she offers, "but in exchange, you have to tell me what's going on."
You roll your eyes, you weren’t going to fall for that. "I can deal with it."
"Fine," she shrugs, "then no more." She makes a motion as if to put out the joint.
"What? I'm still practicing!" you protest. "What happened to trying to get me to the pro league?"
Sevika just laughs, the sound unexpectedly warm. "Sorry, there's an entry fee."
You sigh, knowing you're cornered. "Fine," you mutter, then barely above a whisper, add, "I fucked up bad at work today."
Her expression turns serious. "What do you mean?"
Taking a deep breath, you tucked a stray hair behind your ear and avoided eye contact. "There was this creepy guy at one of my tables. He kept specifically asking for random things like more napkins or refills, and I knew why he did that." You shudder slightly at the memory. "I wanted to switch with a male server, but we were too booked so I just tried to bear with it. I didn’t think he would cross any lines since it looked like he was with family too."
Sevika listens intently as you continue, "It got too far when he kept making me uncomfortable, saying he would tip well if I gave him my number." Your hands clenched into fists in the sand. "So after I came back, I... I 'accidentally' spilled water on him."
You can't meet Sevika's eyes as you finish, "I knew it was unprofessional and petty, but I was so frustrated. After getting yelled at by the head server, it kind of hit me what I did."
As you fall silent, you feel a mix of shame and lingering anger. You wait anxiously for Sevika's response, afraid to see judgment in her eyes.
But Sevika's response catches you off guard. "He deserved it," she says firmly.
Your eyes widen in surprise. "Huh? But I made a mess because I couldn't keep my emotions in check. You know there are always going to be horrible customers..."
She cuts you off with a shake of her head. "Nah, he deserved it. It's a shame you couldn't stay to watch when I kicked him out and announced that he was trying to grope one of our servers in front of his entire family and the restaurant."
You stare at her incredulously for a moment before bursting out laughing. "No way? You actually did that?"
Sevika shrugs nonchalantly. "What's Silco gonna do? I'm the best general manager he's got." She pauses, a prideful glint in her eye. "Though our head server might need a bit of retraining."
You can't believe what you're hearing. Sev, the Sev, actually stood up for you. A wave of gratitude washes over you, and you suddenly feel shy.
"Thank you... for that," you murmur. "It meant a lot."
She just nods in response, a comfortable silence falling between you. Sevika passes you the joint again, and this time when you take a hit, you manage to do it without coughing.
"I did it!" you exclaim, unable to contain your enthusiasm.
"Look at you, you might get into the Olympics next." She teased.
The tension from earlier completely dissipated, and you can't help but feel a newfound appreciation for Sevika.
"Okay, you gotta slow down now. This is your first time," Sevika warns, pulling the joint away as you reach for it again.
"Nooo, give it," you whine, making a half-hearted grab for it.
She shakes her head firmly. "Nuh-uh." Sevika puts out the joint despite your protests. Then, without warning, she announces, "I'm lying down."
"What?" you ask, confused by the sudden change.
Sevika doesn't respond, just leans back onto an apron acting as your beach blanket. After a moment's hesitation, you did the same. It's only now that you realize how close she is. You can see the rise and fall of her chest, steady and rhythmic.
You close your eyes, letting the sensations wash over you. "Do you hear that?" you murmur. "The waves sound amazing." A small giggle escapes your lips.
"It's hitting you now," Sevika observes, amusement coloring her voice.
"Shhh, Sev. Listen," you insist, your voice barely above a whisper. If only you didn’t close your eyes at that moment, because then you would’ve seen the shy smile appear on her lips at the nickname that she only lets you use on her.
As you concentrate on the sound of the waves, you became aware that you're also following the pattern of Sevika's breathing. It's oddly comforting, this synchronicity between her, you, and the ocean.
Curiosity gets the better of you, and you dare to look over at her. Your breath catches in your throat as you realize she's staring at you with those stormy gray eyes that never seem to reveal anything. The intensity of her gaze sends a jolt through you, triggering an immediate panic.
You sit up abruptly, your heart racing. Sevika follows, concern etched on her previously relaxed face. "What's wrong?"
"Uh, I'm hungry," you blurt out, desperate for a distraction.
Sevika just laughs, the sound rich and warm. "Here, I’m glad I brought this," she says, reaching into her pocket. She pulls out a colorful bag of sour gummy worms, the plastic crinkling loudly in the quiet night.
The sight of the candy, so unexpectedly bright in contrast to Sevika's stoic character, makes you laugh. You watch as she pulls out a gummy worm, the candy stretching slightly before she bites into it. The casual act feels strangely intimate in this moment, and you find yourself transfixed by the movement of her jaw as she chews.
"Want one?" she asks, holding out the bag to you.
Your fingers brush against hers as you reach for a candy, sending another small shiver through you. As you pop the gummy worm into your mouth, the burst of sour flavor feels like a shock against your tongue.
While you devoured practically half the bag, Sevika stretches languidly before lying back down on the sand. You followed suit, turning to face her. This time, feeling way less sober than the beginning, you don't shy away from her gaze.
You notice one of her usually tucked fringes has come loose, falling softly across her forehead. Your fingers twitch with the urge to brush it back, but you manage to restrain yourself.
Sevika's eyes are fixed on you, her expression softer than you've ever seen it. "I'm tired," she mumbles, her voice low and slightly husky. "I want to sleep... this feels nice."
A dopey smile spreads across your face at the sight of her uncharacteristic vulnerability. "Do it," you encourage gently.
"Wake me up in a bit?" she asks, her eyelids already starting to droop.
"Of course," you assure her.
As Sevika's eyes close, you sit there, taking in the moment. You listened to the rhythm of her breathing mix with the sound of the waves and the refreshing sea breeze.
Suddenly, Sevika makes a noise that's almost like a whine. "It's cold," she murmurs, not opening her eyes.
"Really?" you ask, surprised.
"Yeah," she confirms. Then, to your shock, she says, "Come here."
Before you can process what's happening, Sevika is draping her red jacket over both of you. The action brings you even closer to her, and your brain struggles to keep up with this new development.
You find yourself studying Sevika's features up close. Her nose, which you've always thought was cute but never dared to admit, her long lashes resting against her cheeks, and the scar that runs across her cheekbone.
The warmth of her body so close to yours, the scent of her cologne mingling with the salt air, the soft sound of her breathing - it all combined to create a moment so intimate and unexpected that you feel almost dizzy with it. You're acutely aware of every point where your body is almost, but not quite, touching hers.
Your heart is pounding so loudly you're sure she must be able to hear it. But Sevika's breathing has evened out, suggesting she's drifting off to sleep. You lie there, barely daring to move, caught between the desire to savor this moment and the fear of disturbing her.
You find yourself caught in Sevika's gaze as her eyes slowly flutter open. The moonlight reflects in her dark irises, creating an almost ethereal effect.
"What are you staring at?"
Your heart skips a beat. "You," you reply without thinking, then immediately feel heat rush to your cheeks.
A smirk plays at the corner of Sevika's lips. "Mmm... you're plotting my murder, right?"
You can't help but chuckle softly. "Haha, of course. I’ve been waiting months for this moment.”
"Damn," she sighs dramatically, through her eyes sparkled with amusement. "At least I get a gorgeous view before my final moments."
The air between you suddenly feels charged. You fall silent, profoundly aware of every breath, every subtle movement. Sevika's hair has fallen across her face, obscuring part of her scar. Without really thinking about it, you reach out, gently tucking the errant strand behind her ear.
As you start to pull your hand back, Sevika's fingers wrap around your wrist. Her touch is gentle, a stark contrast to her usual brusque demeanor. You freeze, your breath catching in your throat.
"Don't," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the soft lapping of waves.
Sevika holds your hand gently, her calloused fingers tracing over yours with surprising tenderness. She examines each fingertip as if committing them to memory. Just as you're getting lost in the intimacy of the moment, she breaks the silence.
"You got tiny ass hands, Pagli.”
You blink, taken aback. "Excuse me?"
Sevika bursts out laughing, the sound rich and wonderful. Her head tilts back, revealing a full set of stunning teeth. The sight momentarily captivates you, but you quickly recover, determined not to let her win this moment.
"You know, I was only trying to steal the gummies," you retort, trying to keep a straight face.
Her eyebrow arches challengingly. "Really? Come and get it then."
Before you know it, you're both wrestling on the makeshift blanket. Sand flies everywhere as you tussle, laughter filling the air. It's been so long since you've felt this carefree, this alive. Your worries from earlier seem like a distant memory now.
Somehow, you manage to gain the upper hand. You find yourself practically pinning Sevika down, your faces mere inches apart. You can feel her warm breath on your skin, catching the faint scent of weed. Your heart races, and for a moment, you're tempted to close that small distance between you.
Instead, you break the tension by snatching the bag of gummies from her grasp. "I win!" you declare triumphantly.
But even as you say it, the victory feels hollow. The gummy bag hangs limp in your hand as you watch Sevika accept defeat with surprising grace. She's still beneath you, her chest rising and falling with each breath, her eyes locked on yours.
You wish you could reach out and caress her face, trace the line of her scar, feel the softness of her skin again. The urge is almost overwhelming, but you hold back, unsure of how she'd react. The moment stretches between you, filled with unspoken words and possibilities.
Sevika pats the spot next to her, inviting you back. You settle in, acutely aware of her warmth beside you. Her eyes, dark and curious, search your face.
"What are you thinking about now, Pagli?" she asks softly.
Before you can stop yourself, the words tumble out. "I want to play with your hair."
Immediately, heat rushes to your face. You're about to stammer an apology when Sevika takes your hand, guiding it to her hair. The silky softness surprises you, and you can't help but run your fingers through the strands.
Sevika's eyes flutter closed, a contented sigh escaping her lips. Encouraged, you begin to gently massage her scalp, marveling at how relaxed she seems.
"What does Pagli mean?" you whisper.
A smirk plays on Sevika's lips. "Crazy girl," she replies without skipping a beat.
"Huh?!" You're not sure whether to be offended or flattered.
"It's because you do crazy and bold things. I like that about you."
Your stomach flutters with warmth at the admission. Sevika leans into your touch, murmuring, "That feels amazing."
Gradually, she shifts closer, until her head is tucked against your chest. You can feel the steady pace of her breathing, the warmth of her body against yours. Without really meaning to, you find yourselves practically spooning.
As you stretch out, your feet brush against her shins, and you realize just how much taller she is. It's oddly endearing, this contrast between you. Your fingers continue their gentle exploration of her hair, occasionally trailing down to trace the curve of her neck.
The moment feels soft, intimate in a way you never expected. The sound of waves provides a soothing backdrop, and the moonlight casts a gentle glow over you both. You're struck by how vulnerable Sevika looks like this, all her usual sharp edges softened.
You want to say something, to put into words the feeling blooming in your chest, but you're afraid to break the spell. So instead, you hold her close, savoring the unexpected comfort of this moment, wondering how something so beautiful could arise from such a difficult day.
You keep replaying the moment when Sevika's strong arms practically dragged you into cuddling her. The memory sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. Your hand moves almost of its own accord, slowly rubbing circles on her back. You hear her sigh contentedly, the sound filling you with a warmth that has nothing to do with the physical closeness.
Just as you're sinking deeper into this blissful moment, bright white lights suddenly flash on, startling you both. A loud voice booms across the beach: "THE BEACH IS CLOSING IN 10 MINUTES. PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY BACK TO THE PARKING LOT."
"Urghhh," you groan. You instinctively buried your face into your hands.
Sevika's response is even more vocal - she lets out a louder, more dramatic groan that vibrates through her chest and into yours. The sound is so unexpected and so uncharacteristically cute, that you can't help but laugh.
Your laughter seems to break the spell. Sevika lifts her head, her hair mussed from your earlier attentions, and gives you a mock glare that's softened by the smile tugging at her lips.
"What's so funny, Pagli?" she asks, her voice husky with lingering sleep.
"Nothing," you say, still chuckling. "Just... I never pegged you for a whiner."
Sevika rolls her eyes. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it," she grumbles.
You lean in close to Sevika, whispering conspiratorially, "They can't kick us off if we hide in the sand, right?"
"Yeah, or if we stay really still," she adds, barely suppressing a grin.
You both freeze comically, trying to blend in with the beach around you. But as the final announcement blares across the sand, you finally admit defeat.
As you both reluctantly start to gather your things, you can't help but steal glances at Sevika. Her hair is tousled, her clothes rumpled from lying on the beach, and there's a softness to her expression that you've never seen before. It makes your heart do a little flip in your chest.
Just as you're about to lead the way back, Sevika suddenly grabs your hand, pulling you back towards her. Before you can react, her lips are on yours.
You were suddenly frozen, till your brain practically yelled, Fucking kiss the hot girl back you dumbass! Your hand immediately slides into her hair, and you respond back to the kiss with the same ferocity. All the tension that's been building between you tonight finally finds its release. Her lips are softer than you imagined, moving against yours with a passion that takes your breath away.
But the moment was short-lived when it was cut short by another blaring announcement.
Sevika breaks away, growling, "I'm going to break that speaker."
You can't help but laugh at her annoyance, the sound bubbling up from the happiness overflowing in your chest. You lean in, giving her a quick peck on the lips. "C'mon, we can continue this later."
Sevika nods, a small but genuine smile playing on her lips. She has that look on her face, that is just so content and full of adoration that your legs practically felt like jelly.
“Race you back to the car, loser has to buy dinner!” You yell as you spirit across the sand.
You were fortunate enough to get a head start because once Sev realized what was happening, you could already see a blur of her movement closing the distance through the corner of your eye. Your hair whipped wildly in the wind along your combined unadulterated, giddy laughters echoing in the night air.
With her athletic build, she easily caught up to you but instead of surpassing you, her hand found yours. Her fingers intertwined with yours, fitting perfectly. The warmth of her palm against yours feels like the most natural thing in the world.
You two slowed your pace into an amble, the sound of waves fading behind you. Every so often, you steal glances at Sevika, still hardly believing this night has been real.
When her car comes into view, Sevika gives your hand a gentle squeeze. You turn to look at her, finding her eyes already on you, soft and full of something that makes you unsure of whether this moment was a dream or not.
Sevika tugs you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "We should do this again sometime," she murmurs against your skin. "Minus the getting kicked off the beach part."
You chuckle at the joke and tuck your head into her chest, listening to her heartbeat. Thump. Thump.
"Thank you," she says quietly, her voice a small murmur above your ear, "for making a shitty day end beautifully."
You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.
"Thank you for finding me."
#sevika#arcane sevika#sevika imagine#sevika x reader#sevika x you#soft sevika#fluff#comfort#lesbian#lesbian yearning
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Elle have you ever felt the urge to write more swim lessons with the marauders? I’m not usually much of a “part 2??” person but when I read that one I thought it was begging for a continuation. No pressure though!! Only if you feel like it, thanks for writing the first one at all :)
wellllllllll, since you asked so nicely (no but I'd literally do anything for you, just name the price - also, this feels like a full circle moment since the first part was absolutely not heavily influence by my love for your EMT!marauders...........)
swim instructor!marauders x fem!reader who learns that praise kinks are a transferrable skill
find part one here!
CW: joking about drowning each other, nerves surrounding learning how to swim, inappropriate jokes because.....well.....you know.
You had left last week's swim lesson (which you had dubbed your latest near death experience) quite certain you would rather just enjoy the white-sand beaches of the Maldives by the waterline.
That is until perhaps the third time someone joked about bringing you a set of water wings, and the second time someone pointed out the horrid tan lines those would leave on your skin.
So here you were, sitting on a bench in the posh dressing room of the posh country club that your friend’s fiance’s posh family owned as you waited for the rest of the patron’s to clear out of the pool for your private swim lessons.
Oh God, what if you were expected to compensate them for this too?!
You were so consumed in your spiralling - wondering if you could manage to take out a line of credit simply to attend your best friend's wedding - when you heard your name being called into the change room.
“You in there?” You could hear Remus call.
“Yup!” You called back; horrified when your voice cracked. “I’m coming.” You added after clearing your throat.
You reluctantly grabbed your towel and hugged it to your chest as you headed towards the pool.
“There she is!” Sirius called as he spotted you. “Our favourite swimmer!”
“I’ve not actually done any swimming yet.” You corrected quietly. Not quietly enough, unfortunately, as the acoustics in this room seemed to carry your words to the black haired swimmer and his bespectacled counterpart across the entire pool.
“You won’t be able to say that for much longer!” James countered.
Remus apparently noticed the panic look form on your face as he let out a low chuckle. “We’re staying in the shallow end today, love. There’s no need to worry.”
You wanted to be annoyed with him at his incessant use of pet names and endearments, but any ire that may have bubbled in your chest simply vanished when he flashed you a soft, crooked smile.
You watched then as James and Sirius launched themselves into the pool without a second thought whilst Remus gently lowered himself into it from the edge.
You weren’t proud that you had to force yourself to look away from the muscles in his shoulders as they flexed under his weight.
“How tall are you?” Sirius asked then, causing James to gasp dramatically.
“You’re not supposed to ask a lady that, Pads.” He scolded.
“No.” Sirius countered slowly. “You’re not supposed to ask them how much they weigh.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to ask them anything to do with numbers; weight, age, height.” James continued.
“Age!? What can you ask them?” Sirius beseeched.
“Would you sods shut up?” Remus grumbled.
“Right.” Sirius said then, apparently remembering himself. “I only ask because you should be able to touch the bottom here; why don’t you try getting in like Moony did?”
You felt your brows furrow as you looked at Sirius in bemusement. “Moony?”
“That’s me.” Remus clarified as he let out a sigh of exasperation; you couldn’t help but notice the shy blush that took over his face and threatened to spread to his chest at the moniker, however. “He’s Pads, and James is Prongs. Sometimes. Right now, they’re sod 1 and sod 2.”
His insult was met with one indignant ‘oi!’ and a retaliatory splash. “But what Sirius was trying to say was that it would be good practice getting in and out without a gradient; you said the wedding was in the Maldives?”
You nodded in response.
“You may at times only have the edge of a dock or perhaps a small staircase to get into the water; doing this in the shallow end will help train your body not to go into fight or flight mode each time.”
And while that all sounded well and good, you couldn’t help but look at the water warily.
“Come on.” Sirius encouraged you as he situated himself below you and patted the edge of the pool. “Have a seat, doll.”
You bit back a grumble and did as you were told, sitting on the edge of the pool where Sirius stood between your legs and set his hands on either side of you. “Then you just slide in, and I’ll be here to catch you; got it?”
“Is there gonna be a tattooed bloke in the Maldives to catch me too?” You grumbled to yourself, horrified when Sirius’ bark of laughter alerted you to the fact that you had said that out loud.
“Why, you looking for a date, doll?”
You have got to stop blurting out every thought that enters your mind, especially around these men.
Instead of dealing with your embarrassment, you figured you may as well just try drowning.
Unfortunately for you, the water was shallow and you were tall enough to touch the bottom and Sirius had caught you, so it looked as though you would just have to deal with your embarrassment like a mature adult.
But fuck that.
So instead, you splashed him.
“Oh she’s feisty today.” James commented as Sirius squawked something or other about his hair.
Humour danced behind Remus’ whiskey eyes as he considered you. “Thank you for splashing him so I wouldn’t have to.”
“We should invest in some of those spray bottles for when he’s being a pest.” James called over with a smirk.
Whatever qualms Sirius may have had about his hair seemed to dissipate at the prospect of dunking his mate as he lunged for James and forced them both under the water.
You were mortified to realise you had leaned into Remus’ side to avoid getting tangled up in whatever underwater brawl was taking place; only realising your proximity to the tall swim instructor when he placed a placating hand on your back.
“This is actually what we’re going to be practising today.” He explained as his two counterparts emerged from the water with gasping breaths.
“Drowning each other?”
“Holding our breath.” Remus corrected you with a smirk. “The hope is that you will feel more comfortable in practising if you’re not so worried about what will happen when you’re underwater.”
“We’re gonna have a cheeky seat at the bottom of the pool!” James explained.
You looked to Remus with what you were sure was a ‘you’re kidding me, yeah?’ face who simply smiled at you encouragingly.
“I thought the purpose of swim lessons was to not end up at the bottom of a pool.” You deadpanned.
“The purpose of swim lessons is to avoid ending up at the bottom of a pool, and knowing how to get back up to the surface when you do.” Sirius offered.
“We’ll just lower ourselves to our knees and-”
“My favourite position.” Sirius interrupted Remus’ instructions.
“James?” Remus deadpanned.
“On it.” James answered quickly as he put Sirius in a headlock and dunked them under the water again.
“As I was saying,” Remus continued without the distraction of the other two, “we’ll lower ourselves to our knees, try to count to 10, and then we’ll come back up.”
The other two instructors reemerged at the end of Remus’ sentence and you let out a heavy breath. “I don’t think I can do this.” You admitted quietly.
Any humour and levity seeped from the three men as they circled you protectively.
“No, hey, of course you can!” James offered, trying to imbue some of his eagerness and enthusiasm onto you as he swiped water away from his eyes.
“Why would she trust you, James? You look like nothing but trouble.” Sirius said haughtily as he tried to re-restrain his hair into an elastic.
You were expecting James to squawk in offence, but his face lit up brilliantly as if Sirius had just solved world hunger.
“That’s it!”
“What’s it?” Remus asked warily.
“She doesn’t trust us!” James clarified, which clarified nothing for you at all.
“What! I- no, that’s not true. I…I do trust you, I just-”
“No, no. Not like that angel.” James offered. “I’m sure you trust us enough as employees here, but not necessarily enough to willingly put yourself at risk, right?”
You tried to think of an argument.
You couldn’t.
“Okay, let’s see…oh!” James started as he lowered himself into the water enough that it lapped against his chin. “I was completely broken when my marriage ended, and these two were the only ones who could convince me I wasn’t a complete failure.” He offered casually as if he hadn’t just dropped a significant amount of lore on a near stranger.
“I ran away from home at 16 and James’ family took me in, no questions asked, and have treated me as their own ever since.” Sirius added quickly.
Remus let out a sigh as he looked to the other two in faux exasperation. “And I was a poor scholarship kid attending an elite and posh prep school, and these two did everything they could to make sure no one made me feel insecure about it.”
“All this to say, angel; I’d trust these two with my life, and I think you should too.” James finished.
You let out a steadying breath and nodded your head. “Okay.”
“Yeah?” Sirius smiled.
“Yeah, yes; I can do this.” You decided, mostly speaking to yourself.
“Hell yeah, you can!” James cheered as he splashed the water, Remus muttering something about him being a giant toddler.
“So, you can plug your nose if you’d like; but try to take a deep breath in, and then whilst you’re under water try letting that air out slowly, okay?” Remus instructed then. You felt more than a little discombobulated with all of his attention focused on you.
Sirius demonstrated and you mimicked his actions which earned you a dramatic round of applause.
“Brilliant! You’re gonna rock this.” James assured you quickly.
“‘Course she is.” Sirius scoffed as if James had said something rather outlandish. “She’s been brilliant at everything so far.”
You felt your cheeks heat up near painfully and looked down to the water in hopes that no one noticed you fluster.
Unfortunately for you, it seemed Remus was more observant than you gave him credit for. “You going to be brilliant for us again today, love?”
You felt like it was your turn to scoff. “‘Course I am.” your inner voice echoed Sirius.
“‘Course she is.” James echoed for you; a knowing smirk gracing his lips.
“Ready?” Sirius started as he lowered himself to his shoulders.
You nodded and he started to count down.
At one, you sucked in a deep breath and plugged your nose before plunging yourself into the pool.
You were too buoyant; your body trying to return to the surface immediately after submerging yourself which left you feeling rather panicky, but you saw Sirius blow out dramatic bubbles and decided to do the same, feeling your body slowly sink to allow you to settle onto your knees.
James beamed a smile at you as Remus looked at a stopwatch counting down your seconds.
You realised it wasn’t so bad down here - letting the air out of your lungs left you not feeling as if your body was going to burst from the pressure, and it was beautifully quiet. It reminded you how peaceful you found floating to be just the week before.
You felt a gentle tap on your wrist, noticing Remus pointing upwards.
You stood and suddenly, you were horribly aware of how loud an empty pool could be; the sound of water filtering, the large fans in charge of the humidity levels, and the echoing of the great cavernous space left you feeling slightly homesick for the bottom of the pool.
“That was brilliant!” James cheered as he pulled you roughly into his side.
“You say that as if you’re surprised, Prongs.” Sirius teased gently.
“Of course I’m not surprised, she’s our brilliant student.”
And instead of an embarrassed flush of your cheeks, you felt a simmering pride settle within your chest.
It appeared that having a praise kink was, indeed, a transferable skill.
#marauders era#marauders au#reader insert#self insert#marauders fanfiction#remus lupin#james potter#sirius black#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x you#swim lessons#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x reader#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#james potter x reader#james potter x you#swim instructor!marauders#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders ficlet#poly!marauders blurb#ellecdc fics
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Injured - PB
Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader
Summary: You tear your ACL and Paige is there to care for you (based on THIS request)
Warnings: slightly angsty, fluff, Paige as caring GF, role switch when it comes to injury (mirrors timeline of Paige's actual injury)
Word Count: 2.1k
Sweetbans Masterlist
AN: I am still figuring out how to write for Paige but we are out here trying. Any and all feedback is always welcome!
You never imagined your life to be what it was. At no point growing up did you expect to play college ball or go to one of the best colleges for women's basketball. Basketball was always something you enjoyed and mostly played because your friends played. It wasn't until high school that key people in your life started encouraging you to take it more seriously.
The summer before going into freshman year of high school your middle school coach sat down with you and your parents and highly encouraged them to put you in basketball year-round. He saw something in you that no one else had seen up to this point.
Your parents asked you if you wanted to play year-round and you just shrugged.
You did. Your parents switched you to a high school with a better program. When you weren't dominating on the court in high school, you were dominating on another court - turning the eyes of a lot of coaches and brands.
Your first brand deal was with Gatorade. It was all thanks to your old middle school coach who had some connection within the company and told them they would regret not getting you early. You were only a sophomore when you signed with them.
Your current coach did an interview that explained who you were as a ball player when someone came out right after you closed the brand deal.
"Her mentality when it comes to the game is unmatched. She is a sophomore in high school and is ready to play in college - if you haven't seen her play, you must." Coach Rudd says. When asked about what specifically stands out about the young star compared to other up-and-coming players that colleges are scouting, his response was not what you would expect. "There is no doubt that her talent is seen when she is on the court. That is known. But what impresses me the most is how she brings her teammates into her thought process. She takes the IQ that she has for the game and is able to explain and teach that to her teammates." Coach Rudd says. "There are times I feel like she gives me a run for my money as head coach of this team." Rudd jokes. "The world needs to watch out for her - she may not enjoy standing in the spotlight but it will follow her wherever she goes. She is just getting started." Rudd finishes.
Even with the interviews and the brand deals that followed, it wasn't until colleges started reaching out and asking about your plans for college that it dawned on you to play after high school.
All of your teammates at the time thought it was comical how much you had your head in the sand when it came to how sought out you were. They would tease you endlessly about it, just shrugging them off and playing the game you love.
After becoming one of the most known high school ball players, you committed to UConn to play for Geno. The way he approached you about college ball was different than any other coach had. He understood your basketball mentality better than anyone else had up to this point.
It wasn't until you got to college that it really hit you how many people knew you. You walked into your first practice and the whole team started mumbling about you. Not much bugged you, but for some reason this did.
You feel someone come up beside you but you don't pay them much attention until they speak.
"Don't worry, they aren't saying anything bad - I heard them talking about the freshman superstar that's coming in and how she is going to change the Huskies game for the better. I thought they were talking about me, but then they said your name..." The girl says as she extends her hand to you. "I'm Paige," she says, and you shake her hand introducing yourself.
"Oh I know who you are ma, everyone here does," she says with a little laugh. You pull back a little embarrassed now.
"This is all new," you say trying to justify your body language. That was the truth - not many people talked about you in high school and you just kept your head down. But this was much different.
"Just stick with me, I got you," Paige says and you follow her over.
She was your saving grace freshman year. The more you got to know her - the more you realized you had in common with her. Her understanding of the game, her understanding of outsiders looking in, you both loving the sport and just wanting to play to the best of your ability.
It was toward the end of your freshman year that you admitted your feelings for Paige. You had spent the night at hers and woke up entangled with the blonde. You watched her sleep and decided you had waited long enough. When she woke up, you were already staring at her. As she looked into your eyes, you leaned in and kissed her without warning.
It caught her off-guard but she melted into you.
The two of you decided to keep your relationship as lowkey as possible, knowing that you don't like being in the limelight. You told the team a few weeks in and it came as no surprise to them. Most of the time, Paige took the lead which was nothing out of the ordinary.
Everything in your life had been pretty smooth. It all changed during an early-season game your sophomore year.
You were mid-transition when you pivoted and felt a snap in your knee, immediately falling to the ground. You were guarding a girl from the other team, and by the looks of anyone watching, it looked like she had faked you causing you to lose your footing and fall. It was only when you were on the ground holding your knee that everyone realized something had happened.
Initially, the play kept going. Both teams believed you were going to get up and continue to play. After the other team finished the play, the refs and your team noticed you were still on the ground.
You knew exactly what had happened the second you felt the pop but refused to believe it. After the initial pain, you tried to get up on your own while the play was still going but couldn't. Not that anyone would expect you to but yourself.
Paige was the first person to run over to you, kneeling by you and asking you what hurt. You were holding your knee, rolling around trying to find any sort of unpainful position which didn't come. Your hand kept hitting the ground in frustration.
Paige is yelling furiously at the bench for someone from the medical team to come over to you. No one was moving fast enough for Paige's liking.
She kneels by your side, grabbing the hand that keeps hitting the ground. She knew she could let anyone see how scared she was, but she was terrified. If there was anyone in the building who understood you better than yourself it was Paige.
"Someone is coming, babe. Someone is coming." Paige keeps muttering.
"Just get me up," you say - frustrated with the whole situation.
"Someone is coming." Paige repeats again.
"Get me up!" You yell indirectly at Paige. Paige doesn't want to move you without someone coming to help but Azzi reaches out her hand to help you up. Nika is behind you and hooks her arms under your arms.
"1, 2,3," Azzi counts and you let out a grunt as the two girls lift you up. You balance on one leg as Azzi puts one of your arms around her shoulders, Paige on the other side with Nika still behind you. The three girls help you to the bench - the medical team meeting you halfway.
You see Paige turn to them and yell something that you can't make out.
Paige doesn't want to leave your side but is grabbed by Geno when Azzie and Nika pass you off to go back to the locker room.
"We need you here," Geno says. "They will take care of her," he says as Paige looks down the hall where they had just taken you.
She heads back out on the floor and finishes the game.
You on the other hand were being looked at.
The game ended - it was a total upset. After you left the floor, Paige fouled out leaving the team down two of its best players. When the team made their way back to the locker room, you were lying on one of the tables with your leg elevated with ice. You have your arm covering your face as your mind races with a thousand different thoughts.
Girls from the team come and make their way to you but you don't say a word. Everyone but Paige tries to talk to you and you just give nods or little exhales.
Once the room cleared out - Paige walks up to you.
She puts a hand on your stomach and it is like she releases all the pent-up frustration you had been harboring since going down. You feel tears stream down the sides of your face as you bring your other arm up to stifle the cries that are coming whether you want them to or not.
"It's all so stupid." You say. Paige pulls up a chair and sits next to you.
You don't say anything for a few minutes.
"I'm stupid." You finally say.
"Don't say that ma, you aren't stupid," Paige says as her hands come up to remove your arms from your face.
Your arms fall and she begins to rub the one closest to you.
"This could have happened to anyone," she continues. "I know this sucks - it is the last thing you want to be dealing with right now but this isn't the end okay?"
Paige sits there knowing that if the roles were reversed, there is nothing that you could say to make her feel better about the situation. So she just sits there with you, holding your hand and rubbing your arm until you are cleared to go home.
Paige takes you home that night You don't say much but you are incredibly thankful your girl is there.
She helps you into bed and runs out to get you all the necessities. Your phone is turned off, not wanting to hear what anyone has to say about what happened.
When Paige walks back in, she hands you some meds and water.
"I let your parents know how you are doing," she says in the softest voice. You don't look at her, knowing if you do, tears will begin to fall.
She comes and lays next to you, opening her side up for you to cuddle into. She makes sure your leg is positioned well before you finally feel her settle and exhale.
After a few minutes, you speak.
"It's funny how I wasn't even thinking about college basketball until someone mentioned it to me. I never would have imagined playing past high school. I mean I have always loved the sport and knew I would always play but coming here and playing at this level has been amazing. It opened my eyes to the potential of more. The potential of a championship. The potential of multiple championships. The potential of the W. The potential of coaching someday. If there is anything that this injury has shown me it's that I'm not finished." You say.
"I am going to do what I need to do to come back better than I left the court. Not only physically but mentally. The world has no idea the drive that is burning inside me." You finish.
Paige can feel your breath pick up as you talk - only backing up what you are saying. She kisses the top of your head with a smile.
"I have no doubts that you will come back better." She says as she intertwines her fingers with hers. "But for now, I need you to rest, ma."
You nod.
"Rest is good." You say with a yawn. "But tomorrow we start."
"How about we give you a week or two, then we can talk about it," Paige says knowing you are going to be a challenging girl to care for. "We will have plenty of time to get you where you want to be, but before then we gotta get you fixed up." She is rubbing your thigh.
"We will see about that," you say and nestle into your girl.
Right as you are about to fall asleep, you let out a deep sigh.
"Thank you, P," you say. "Thank you for knowing me and loving me for me." You say knowing you can be a lot.
"I can't imagine my life with anyone else," Paige says, voice laced with sleep.
"Good," you say. "Because you are stuck with me."
AN: First Paige request in the books. Hope you all enjoyed it! Please let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 💙
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers imagine#paige bueckers concepts#paige bueckers masterlist#uconn wbb#uconn huskies
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In another universe
back to masterlist
synopsis ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 You swore the next time you saw Sunghoon you would cuss him out and turn a cold shoulder. But when he suddenly appears at your apartment door one night, drunk and desperate, you find yourself faltering
now playing > •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10 difficult - gracie abrams, anaheim -niki, hope ur okay - olivia rodrigo
warnings ˎˊ˗ cursing, crying, fighting, kissing, mentions of hoon being emotionally unavailable, mentions of breaking up, heavyyyy angst, mentions of alcohol, mentions of being drunk, mentions of children, open ending, use of the word masochist once, pet names
genre ⭑.ᐟ hurt to ??
pairings: non-idol ex!sunghoon x female reader
wc ᵎᵎ 1.28k
thoughts frm yuya 💭 fun fact this was actually based off a convo i had with my ex!!!!!! 😁😁😁 so! hit kinda close to home guys! anyways angst is actually so fun to write i won't even lie...
You had just finished taking a shower when you heard a few gentle and quiet knocks coming from your door, barely audible but loud enough for you to hear them. Hand still intertwined in your wet hair in an attempt to dry it, you peered out the peephole to check who was disturbing you at this hour.
Fuck.
Out of all the people you didn’t want to see, Park Sunghoon was at the top of that list. Yet there he stood, eyes heavy and lidded, hair a mess, and gaze averted on the floor, yet you could tell his eyes were plagued with desperation. And even though you so badly wanted to ignore him standing out there hopelessly, a small part of you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if you had done that.
Keeping the door ajar you squeezed your head between the gap, his eyes immediately darted to your own. Fuck, you shouldn’t have done this. You knew you shouldn’t have done this because the moment his eyes met yours you felt the all-so-familiar sense of longing overcoming your soul, the sense of longing you’d been trying to fight off for 6 months; all for it to come crashing down on you again. Well, there goes half a year's worth of healing.
“Sunghoon? What are you doing here?”
“YN, I uh- I didn’t think you’d open up…” shit. His breath reeked of alcohol, of course, the only time he’d come to see you would be when he was drunk.
“Are you drunk Sunghoon?” your words lingered with bitterness as they left your tongue
“Just- just a bit…can I come in?” his eyes were still pleading, and that accompanied by the shaking of his voice would’ve been enough to break you. But you refused to let him do that again.
“Sunghoon you’re drunk you really should just go home-” your hands fumbled at the doorknob as you tried to gently shut the door, but Sunghoon was quicker than you it seemed.
“Please,” his hand reaching towards your own, “I’ll be good.” fuck.
You hated how easily you faltered under his words, his gaze, his touch. You hated it so badly, yet you allowed yourself to do so every. single. time.
Begrudgingly you opened the door fully to let him drunkenly stumble in, collapsing at the end of your bed. A scene all too familiar that haunted you in your sleep. You swore you would never let Sunghoon back into your life, that the next time you saw him you would spit insults in his face and stand your ground, yet with one touch of the wrist the defences you raised for yourself seemed to be built upon sand.
Seating yourself at the edge of your bed you allowed yourself to gingerly run your fingers through his hair, you missed this. However, that was all the more reason why you shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t be allowing yourself to hurt again, just at the expense of a few fleeting moments of serenity.
“Why are you here drunk Sunghoon?”
“I,” he propped himself up, allowing him to stare into your glossy eyes, “I don’t really know. I got kinda drunk and- fuck I couldn’t stop thinking about you love.”
Love, fuck you hated how naturally it rolled off his tongue. “Don’t call me that.”
“Sorry…” he mumbled hazily, “Don’t you miss it though?”
You did. “No.”
“Well I do, I miss you YN. I miss all of this, your hugs, your voice, your touch, your anger. Fuck, I miss being scolded by you after drinking actually, it’s weird right, maybe I’m a masochist.” he said with a small grin
“Hoonie come on-” Hoonie, you didn’t even mean to say it yet the words seemed to come out of you like it was an instinct.
“I missed that too,” he cut in as his hand slowly drew circles around your knuckles, “Shit YN I missed you so much” his eyes slowly started to well up with tears, a few threatening to drip down. You hated how your heart still held a soft spot for him, but you hated seeing him cry even more.
“Hoon don’t cry.” your hands reached over to cup his face, fuck if this was all so wrong why did it feel so right. Like your hand belonged there.
“YN- fuck,” now he really was crying “I really do love you.”
Do, present tense. “Just because you loved me doesn’t mean I felt loved by you”
The memories you tried so hard to repress suddenly flooded all back to you, the arguments, the sleepless nights, the cold glares. The reason you broke up in the first place. You tried your hardest to forget that night, the shouts between you two that filled up your apartment, the way his words pierced through your heart like a spear, the way he walked out so easily. All to just walk back into your heart like he owned the place. Fuck he did own your heart though, he never stopped owning it.
“I’m sorry YN. I’m so so sorry, I should’ve been better. I can be better. Please, I’ll love you the way you’re meant to be loved. I won’t shut you out anymore, fuck I never should’ve. I just- please, I can’t keep living without you. I haven’t been living without you-” he was practically sobbing now. “Please YN, I mean it.”
You wiped away the tears running down his cheeks, seeming to not notice how your eyes were stinging with tears as well. “Hoonie I miss you too but, we can’t keep hurting each other like this. We aren’t good for each other”
“We were good YN. It was so so good, I just fucked it up. Please give me a chance, I can be better.”
Your brain told you to block out his words; and deny everything that was coming out of his mouth, but your heart seemed to overpower those commands. “It wasn’t just you Hoonie, I could’ve been better too-”
“No you were perfect.” he blurted out cutting you off, “I never stopped loving you. Can’t we just, start over?” desperation was an understatement to describe him, god he was a pleading mess.
You could practically hear your own heart-shattering. “I never stopped loving you either Hoonie. But you’re drunk right now, let’s just talk about this in the morning ‘kay?”
“Okay but, can I please sleep here?”
No, he shouldn’t. “Sure hoon”
Sunghoon made his way to the top of your bed, arm reaching out signalling you to come over. A signal you regretfully accepted. You nested yourself between his arms, breathing in his cologne while his chin rested on the top of your head. You hated this, fuck you hated how natural this felt. You hated how easily you could melt into his touch, his words, his scent. You hated how badly you loved it.
“I love you, my YN” his breath slightly hitched before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.
You tried ignoring the lump in your throat but it was no use, the next words that came out of your mouth were swallowed with sniffles and quiet sobs “I love you too hoonie”
Maybe in another universe, you two could’ve talked everything out. Maybe you two could have reconciled and lived happily together again. Maybe the 4 years of dating didn’t disappear in one night. Maybe you two could’ve gotten married like he said. Maybe you lived in a nice 2-bedroom house in the countryside, dogs running around the yard whilst you both basked in the sunlight. Maybe you would have actually had the child you fantasised about.
Maybe, just maybe, Sunghoon would’ve been there when you woke up the next morning.
perm taglist! (send an ask to be added) @floweryang @cupidhoons @msauthor
#yuya writes! ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪#enhypen au#enhypen scenarios#enha#enhypen#enha x reader#enha imagines#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen drabbles#enhypen angst#enha scenarios#enha angst#park sunghoon x reader#sunghoon#park sunghoon#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon angst#sunghoon au#sunghoon x y/n#enhypen x female reader#sunghoon fic#sunghoon fanfic#park sunghoon enhypen#sunghoon enhypen#enhypen fanfic#enhypen fics#enhypen fic
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— 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬.
and the smell of camphor dancing in the wind.
✦ info: he didn't know he'd lose you so soon. (come back, please. even if it is just for five more minutes.)
✦ featuring: alhaitham.
✦ warnings: angst, character death (reader), heartache, 1.2k words, somewhat proof-read.
✦ notes: i cried so goddamn hard writing this. why is my first work after hiatus pain. why did i pick up the angst wip. but!! i'm writing again, so that's good. (more notes at the end.)
he didn’t know that it was your last day together.
he didn’t know that the smile you gave him that afternoon, your eyes sparkling like sunlight upon the serene waves of the ocean, would be the last he’d ever see. that the playful light in your gaze would fade so very soon, slipping through his fingers like sand.
he didn’t know that last night would be the last time he held you close while you drifted off to sleep. he didn’t know that today would be the last time he’d wake up with you.
he didn’t think he’d lose you like this.
he didn’t think he wouldn’t be able to save you from that blow.
“please, please,” he begs, both to you and to whatever force that is just barely holding you together. “just stay with me for five more minutes, please. until i can get you somewhere.”
the rain soaks him to the bone, clothes and hair sticking to his skin. your lips stay motionless, eyes shut.
“wake up, please,” he bargains. “you can have all the five minutes of extra sleep you want later, i promise. just—” his vision blurs, and something shines on the ground before it is gone, swallowed by damp earth, lost amidst drops of falling rain.
desperately, he tears off parts of his traveling cloak to staunch the bleeding. deep inside, he knows it is futile. he knows your wound is too great. he knows what lies ahead. but he cannot help but press the cloths to your wound and pray.
please, please tell me it’ll be okay.
please stay with me, beloved. i’ll read you all the books in the world. i’ll sleep in with you everyday, even if we end up whiling away our time.
please. stay. stay with me. i can’t lose you yet.
“— just wake up, beloved.”
by some miracle, your eye flutters. just a bit. just enough to set hope ablaze, just enough for the grip on his heart to loosen a tiny bit. he buries his face in your shoulder, resting his head against your neck, uncaring of the blood that stains his clothes. your blood. on his clothes. his hands. everywhere.
no. no. this can’t be happening.
he feels you strain beneath him, your unwounded arm gently, weakly brushing his back. he jolts upright, eyes trained on your face. you send a frail smile his way. he clasps your face softly as you nuzzle into his palm.
“alhaitham—”
his full name. archons, how long has it been since you called him that?
“— take good care of yourself, okay?” you tell him, chest heaving, your fingertips touching a tear on his cheeks. “i love you. so much.”
those are the last words he hears fall from your lips. he presses a kiss to your forehead, to your eyelids, and to your cheeks and to your lips, over and over and over until he feels your breath slow, hoping they’ll say what he knows he cannot manage to choke out.
i love you.
he stays there next to you for who knows how long, holding you until the rain slows and a faint rainbow smiles in the sky.
until he can’t smell camphor anymore.
—
every person has their curiosities.
they’re just the little traits that set them apart from others, the things that make them tick just a little bit differently, the things that make them, them.
for instance, someone may be obsessed with collecting tiny furniture, while another eats the crusts off their sandwich before actually consuming it. someone may have an affinity for the most niche aspects of linguistics, while another can accurately predict the next raindrop that slides down a window pane.
after all, no two people are exactly alike, are they?
alhaitham knows he’s got his fair share of these curiosities himself. his aversion to soup and all things that resemble it, to name one. and with you, he’d noticed two things.
number one: the scent of camphor that seems to linger on every inch of your person.
he’d caught whiff of it almost immediately the first time you met. you were but one of his juniors in the akademiya, filled with bright-eyed curiosity and anxiety to match. you had tripped over a stair and bumped into his table in the library, bringing the mountain of books in your arms crashing down.
and with subsequent coincidental meetings, he learnt that the subtle scent of camphor dancing in the air meant you weren’t far away.
you were, unfortunately, one of the poor souls who seemed to be cursed with constantly recurring minor illnesses, and almost always walked about with a stuffy nose. and so, you always carried a small disc of camphor in a handkerchief, as well as in your pocket.
you swore up and down, left, right and center that sniffing the vapors helped make breathing easier.
‘it’s my grandmother’s remedy, alhaitham! camphor always works wonders. well, that and eucalyptus oil.”
alhaitham may not know the validity of your claim or the legitimacy of the cure, but he knew to never, ever question a grandmother’s remedy. that, and he’d much rather refrain from starting a back-and-forth about something so small.
and number two: your neverending pleas of different variations of ‘just five more minutes!’
“five more minutes, ‘haitham. please.” you’d whine grumpily when he woke you up to start your day. “let me sleep in for five more minutes.”
“five more minutes, habibi,” you’d ask when he put down the story you’d requested he read out to you before bedtime. “read me the part where she finds the music box?”
“five more minutes, baby,” is what you’d tell him when he asks how much longer you’d take getting ready. “you can’t rush perfection!”
those five more minutes were never five minutes long.
but he’d always, always indulged you and those pleading eyes of yours. as stoic as he appeared to be, you lived in his heart. of course he could never deny you anything under the sun.
—
alhaitham remembers that silly little song you sang over and over, the one you’d learnt from a kid in the bazaar. he’d taken you to see one of nilou’s performances, and, friendly soul that you were, you’d struck up a conversation with some of the eager audience members before the play.
“oh, how i wish i was a bird flying free,
i’d see the world, every mountain and every sea!
oh, how i wish i was a cloud in the sky,
wouldn’t you like to wave to me as i pass by?”
you’d hum that rhyme on every idle afternoon.
loss is inevitable. he knows that, with how logical and rational and straightforward he is. he’d lost his parents, but he was far too young to remember. he’d lost his grandmother, but she passed in her sleep of old age, serene and wise.
but you? he didn’t think you’d leave him this soon. a singular wish sits in his soul, making its home in his bones.
a wish that you’d come back, somehow.
he wishes you gave him five more minutes, just as he always did. but he knows that you could’ve given him five more hours, five more days, five more years and five more decades and it would still not be enough time spent with you.
a blue feathered bird comes to perch on his shoulder, interrupting his musings just as he raises his face to the sky. he sees the heart shaped cloud that floats idly above sumeru city.
he thinks of the rhyme again, and something in him tells him to wave. and so he does. a scent so familiar lingers, faintly brushing his nose in the wind that picks up.
“alhaitham, it's time to go.” kaveh calls his name softly.
alhaitham doesn't move. “five more minutes,” he says, echoing your favorite phrase. “i smell camphor in the breeze.”
✦ extra notes: my alhaitham characterization for this fic stems from how i believe that when alhaitham is attached, he's attached. so i focused more on that, and less of all that rationality and whatnot. this one loves deeply, yk?
that camphor thing is a real grandma remedy in our household (my mom would tie some in a hanky and put some under my pillow and still to this day reminds me to do it when i'm sick) which is what originally sparked the idea for this
when i'd initially started this wip, i didn't expect it go this way. usually i write with my brain, but i think i wrote this one with my fingers working faster than i can think hsjhsj so sorry if it's kinda out of place lmao but yk what? i'm happy with it still even though i feel like it doesn't have my usual quality.
thanks for reading.
#—🖋#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#astronetwrk#genshin x reader#alhaitham x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#alhaitham x you#genshin x you#emotional blabbering ahead in the tags beware#this is hitting me in a place i didn't know existed hjsjs#like. i haven't lost anyone but i have lost my life as i know it?#this past year was full of so many endings and i've been struggling in some way everyday#like i didn't know that the last time i saw my friends would truly be the last time we ever saw each other#i didn't know that i'd be bidding goodbye to my parents as i left home through an airport#ANYWAY ENOUGH DUMPING. ig i'm just telling you to hug the people you love tighter and cherish every moment you spend with them#time goes by really quickly and you don't know where it'll go#ily guys#ew barf feelings </3 /j
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Batfam x reader platonic concept
But make it over throwing royal’s with reader as a royal and Batfam as revolutionaries AU (with some fantasy elements that aren't expanded on)
CW: Neglect, Violence, blood. War like topics (revolution)
Something to note: in the real world timeframe I would put this in the late 1910s to early 1920s. The cars are faster than the actual cards of that timeframe because of fanfic logic!
Ps, I would love to write more of this (i already have another 1000 i am keeping to myself)
The soft patterns of rain on the roof was the loudest sound in your room. You lay on a bed, arms locked to your sides, staring up to the ceiling of the tall room. It was opulent to say the least, but that was the last thing you would think of. You were stuck in a cycle of memories that felt like a lifetime ago, yet it was only a few months ago that all of what you knew was gone. Not that you missed much of it.
There was once that if you had even whispered a complaint, it would've been fixed by a servant before you could dwell on it. Now it would just fall on deaf ears. You had alway been pacified with gifts, trips, or even new lessons to learn. It was one of the many benefits you got from being of royal descent, when that had mattered. You were happy with what you had but you still craved more. You wanted the unconditional Familial love that every other child seemed to get.
Slowly, you began to watch the families at garden parties, grand balls, and even going through daily life. You can’t help but staring as the parent lovingly held their children, or how they would even just watch them from afar. If you would turn to your parents, they always had their backs to you. You screamed and fought for their attention. You cried quietly every time they forced another toy or trip onto you. Sadly, it turned out to be much worse for you, everyone thought you were spoiled and ignorant because of your public fits. You never had an understanding of how parents were meant to love a child, until you met him.
The Dark knight.
You had met him briefly once before, given he was an army commander. It was a formality really, but you did remember his suit. It looked oddly like a bat with his cape. Still the Dark Knight was skilled with the sword, even with the advancing technology. You always heard whispers of his real name but they were never loud enough to make it your ears.
You were given sword lessons as another class to keep you busy. ‘I always did want to try the sword’ was just a pathetic attempt at ignoring your ugly truth. You were only 10 when you figured that your parents were pushing you off on all these tutors in hope that they would keep you busy enough to stay away from them. You still remember feeling the love you had for your parents slipping through your fingers like sand. You had stopped throwing fits too, you began to try to hold your emotions closer to your heart. All of this is probably what made it so easy for you to get attached to the Dark knight.
Your first lesson was rough. You had been rudely awakened at an unfamiliar time and when you made it out to the training grounds you could only see slivers of light on the horizon. You were forced to clean your tools and even some of his. You complained but he only remained quiet watching you with a heavy eye. You kept your mouth shut after that, finishing without much more complaint.
When you finished, he made you run laps. You wanted to whine about it, but you remembered knowing it wouldn't do anything, so you ran. Lap after lap, you always felt his eyes on you no matter where you went. He remained silent unless it was to tell you to keep going. It wasn't until the sun had fully risen that he had made you stop, letting you get water. You couldn't help but be wreathing with anger as you sat drinking your water.
“Sword lesson my-” you began to whisper under your heavy breaths, until a warm gloved hand was placed atop of your head. You shot your head up to where the head came from. It was the Dark knight, without his helmet.
“Good job kid.” He looked at you in your eyes, you couldn't help but let your emotions slip for a moment. His eyes were so kind, but his face was worn. It was the face of a man who had led a hard life, but still had compassion for others. You gripped your water, you wanted him to say it again
You continued the lesson for another 2 hours but it felt too short for you. Even if he said you weren't ready for a sword, You couldn't wait for the next lesson.
That is how it started and would go for the next 6 years. Twice a week you would meet with him to learn, but every day you spent hours practicing to impress him at your next lesson. He and you had bonded, or so you thought. You learned his true name, Bruce Wayne. he let you call him by his name, you tried to offer him the same courtesy but he refused, it hurt you but you understood.
This was your way of life, this was the happiest you ever were. You thought you had the love you craved the most. You thought that.
It was your 16th birthday. You were meant to focus on the party that was held every year for you but there you were happily running over to the training grounds to see Bruce. Ever since you met him, he always had some form of present for you on your birthday. It was the only present you looked forward to every year.
You stopped at the entrance when you saw Bruce with two other people. Diana Prince and Clark Kent, they were commanders just like Bruce. You always saw them together when they were in the same room, but why were they meeting here today? They looked like it was a serious matter so you hid behind the stables.You crouched down and slowly crawled to the end of the stable closest to them to listen in. You thought maybe you could scare them, you couldn't help but smile at the thought of the previous time you tried to scare Bruce and failed.
“A week from today we will take the capital.” Bruce said matter of factly. You breathe hitched, you heard murmurs through the walls about a revolution, but you didn't think it was real. Much less Bruce was a part of it. “And arrest the royal family and their descents.” That isn’t when you broke, no you didn’t care if they did that.
“And we can finally return to our families.” Clark added. This is when you broke, the mental image you had created in your delusion, the image of Bruce seeing you as one of his kids, shattered into a million pieces right in front of you. You quietly got up, you acted faster than your mind could think.
You jumped out from behind the stables, “Boo!” you shouted, while you wore your best smile. They all flinched at your sudden appearance. Finally you got them. “Hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.” You beamed while scratching the back of your head. They all looked at you in horror as you walked closer.
“How much did you hear, your highness?” Diana began reaching for her lasso on her hip, while trying to keep a pleasant expression.
“Nothing beyond something about going back to your families” You laughed. “ I assume you heard about the holiday I asked the king and Queen to give the troops after my birthday.” You could see as they relaxed, believing your words.
“Is there a reason you came here, your highness?” Clark stepped closer to give you a kind smile placing a hand on your shoulder, he always was kind to you even when you threw fits.
“I always stop by on my birthday.” You take a quiet glance at Bruce, with guilt flickering in his eyes. Y our heart sunk further into your chest. “I was saying hello to my teacher, before going on with my busy day.” You moved your eyes off of Bruce, and on to Clark. You tried to ignore his heavy gaze, your hands were shaking.
“Of course…” Clark and Diana look at Bruce. He gestured for them to leave. “Well Happy birthday, your highness.” Clark bowed before leaving, as did Diana. You watched them leave until they were out of sight. You clasped your hand together, the shaking stopping but your rate grew.
“Your highness,” Bruce’s soft voice boomed in your head . Bruce’s eyes weighed heavily on you, You were barely able to maintained eye contact. “I got you a gift.” He pulled out a small rectangle box wrapped in expansive sliver fabric with an extravagant white lace ribbon tied around it.
It was like every other year before, a small gift that meant the world to you. You, normally, would eagerly take it from him with the biggest grin, and opened it in front of him, thanking him no matter the gift. That year though, you hesitated, you didn’t give a wide grin, nor did you open it immediately.
“Thank you, Bruce.” You stared at the gift, playing with the white ribbon in your hand. “I really appreciate the gifts you have gotten me.” You sighed faintly. Bruce was stunted by this. “I hope you enjoy your time off with your family.” You let out a shaking breathe.
“What about your-” Bruce reached out to touch your shoulder, it was natural for the two of you.
“Don’t worry about lessons next week,” You grabbed his hand before he touched your shoulder “It’s fine if we miss a week. We alway have the after one, right?” you looked at him with a knowing look. He face dropped, he understood that you had heard more than you would say. “I hope to see you later Bruce.” You let go of his hand as you walked away from him leaving him behind in his silence.
You didn’t open that gift that day, even when you were in your room. You spent the rest of the day distracted. There were plenty of things you could’ve done about your impending arrest, but you also knew that would lead to Bruce's death. You didn’t want that, even if he only saw you as a royal, you still viewed him as someone would view their father. So you remained quiet.
The party came and went. It was the same as it always was, many gifts that were worth an average person's salary for ten years, and even proposal letters from noble families that wouldn’t matter in a week’s time. After that night you started to count down the days. Your memories of that week are blurry now, all of the days bleed into each other, until that day of the plan came.
You didn’t leave your room that day, even when you heard the screams of your family members. You waited, seated in a chair by the fire you had the servant light before going to bed. The box Bruce gave you is still unopened on your desk. You didn’t want to open it and pretend like everything was still the same.
You got up as you heard the soldiers get closer, opening every door along the way, until they reached your door. You opened the door before they could barge in. You came face to face with the helmet of The Dark knight. The blood of those who fought back dripped on the floor off of his suit. You step aside to let them in.
The Dark knight was the only one to step in, “Continue moving without me.” You tensed up as he ordered his subordinates to not follow him in. “Your highness-”
“There is no longer a need to address me like that.” You hummed, closing the door behind him. “After all, my heritage won’t matter by sunrise tomorrow.” You stood by the edge of your bed, looking out of the window.
The Dark knight was across the room from you, staying in front of the fireplace. You wouldn't meet his eyes, as he stared at you through his helmet. He looked around the room, he noticed the box on your desk still wrapped neatly. “You didn’t open it.” He picked up the box from the desk, and looked back at you.
“I thought it was inappropriate to open it, considering what was bound to happen.” You Pointed your head back down to the ground,
“You didn’t try to stop us.” He kept the box with him, and stepped closer to you.
“I couldn’t bring myself to,” You confessed, “I knew what it would lead to if I did.” Even then you couldn't bear the thought of him dying because of you.
“Do you understand why we are doing this?” He stopped two feet away from you, and took off his helmet. You wanted to see the face was making but you knew if you saw his face you couldn’t help but break all over again in front of him.
“Not fully,” You weakly replied “but I know that if you and the other commander are in on it then it is for the betterment of the world.” you clenched your hands. You tried to be mad at him but it was hindered by how you saw him. To you, you knew him as a man of justice, who wouldn’t needlessly create waves unless he saw necessary. You put your hands behind your back, intertwining them together.
The Dark Knight couldn’t understand you, but you knew what his thought was “I didn’t run because you taught me to stand with the side I chose, and by blood I am forced to choose this side.” You looked up from the floor finally. His face seemed almost desperate for a better answer, you could only return a sympathy nod with closed eyes.
The room remained silent for a moment, before you offered your wrist forward to make it easier to cuff them, he didn't. Instead he stepped behind you, guiding you out in front of the palace with a firm hand on your shoulder. You kept your eye forward ignoring the blood splattered across the floor and walls. The walk through the halls were eerie and quiet, they still haunt you to this day.
At the front of the palace each member in the royal house kneeled with their hands bound behind their backs, in rows separated from the servants. The Dark knight didn't seem to be guiding you to the royals until someone grabbed you by the arm and pulled you away from him, you saw him for a short moment longer. Maybe if you weren't so tired you could've seen him reaching out for you as he was swarmed by his cohorts.
The soldier was much harsher compared to The Dark knight. They forced you down by your parents, who were bloody and bruised, they must've fought. Their heads hung low, they didn't even try to lift them up to look at you. You watched as Clark walked to stand center in front of palace residences.
“To the royal family, you are found guilty of tyranny and causing anguish to the lands of…” Clark went on about the endless sins your family and you by extension committed. “Now we will go down the line to give you your sentencing.”
You closed your eyes, listened to cries for mercy by the ones you assumed were to be put in prison for life and the quiet sobs of the ones who got less. Clark stopped when he passed you, You were the only one sitting up with free arms. He whispered something to the person following him, before moving on. two soldiers picked you by your arms from ground and brought you back into the palace.
You might've been more confused if you didn't pass out the moment they shoved you back into your room.
The weeks following after that there was a surgeon of royalist nobels trying to take back the monarchy, but they were swiftly dealt with each time they would arise according to the maids that would pass your room.. You spent those weeks confined to your room, at the former palace, you tried to ask why you weren't in the prison, but none of the guards standing outside of your room wouldn't reply.
It was 2 months later that you finally left your room to be brought in front of the new leaders of your country. Diana, Clark and Him. It was a small meeting with only you and the three of them.
“Tell us _, why do you think that you are here?” Diana spoke in a loud yet caring tone.
“I am here to finally receive my sentence.” You mumbled.
“No,” Clark interjected what would've evolved into a rant. “We are curious to know why you did nothing to stop the revelation.”
“I couldn't live with the consequences if I had stopped you.” You replied flatly.
“and those consequences would be, what?”
“The continued suffering of the country” they gestured for you to go on “and the loss of your lives.”
“And are you aware that means you betrayed the royal family?”Clark retorted. Bruce leaned forward.
“Yes.” You wanted it to be over already.
“Then you will not receive a sentence, but you will live under surveillance.” Clark stood up from his seat and offered you a hand. You took the hand, you could live under surveillance.
“Here at the… well whatever this was turned into.” You questioned, Clark shook his head no. “Then where?”
“With me.” Bruce finally spoke up. Your body ran cool, as a sinking feeling bloomed in your stomach. You would've been fine anywhere else but with him. You had no choice.
“Fine.” You looked away from him.
That day, your clothes, swords, and other trinkets were packed and off to Gotham where the now infamous Wayne manor resides. While you rode in front with Bruce in his Car. The ride was quiet, along with unpacking the car. You broke the silence to say thank you for help, before taking your belongings inside of the foyer. Serval people were waiting, but not for you.
“Who are you?” A boy, younger than you, glared as you stood there awkwardly holding you things. You were going to respond but Bruce came in behind you. “Father, who is this this person?” So these people were his kids.
“Damian, that is not how you greet someone.” oh. You heard of Damian when you and Bruce would take breaks from your sword lessons. He always liked talking about his family, there was even a point where you though maybe they could see you as family too, but not now. “I am _ _” You lowered your head already knowing what comes next.x .
“A member of that trantical family? Bruce, why are they here?” A boy, probably only a few years older than you, almost screeched.
“I will explain it later, Tim” Bruce took your things from you and tried to push past them, only to be blocked by a girl around the same age as time. “Cassandra please move.
“No, we need to know now.” Damian demanded, as him and Tim cornered Bruce with Cassandra.
“Alfred,” Alfred, who was standing off the side came forward and took your things back from Bruce. “Take them to their new room.”
“Of course Master Bruce.” Alfred turned to you “Please, follow me this way.” He smiled politely. Your arms tense as the You followed behind quietly, walking up the stairs to 3rd floor, back into the furthest corner of the house, the perfect reflection of the distance between you and Your new household.
#batfam#batfamily#batfamily x reader#batfam x reader#x reader#batman#Au#sort of royal au#we love angst#damian wayne#bruce wayne#tim drake#cassandra cain#dc x reader#alfred pennyworth#fanfic#batfam x you#platonic x reader#dcu
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Pleasant Suprise's
Lucanis Dellamorte x GN!Rook
(Antivan Crow Rogue)
Warning: Violence, Slight Angst, Hurt/Comfort (not proof read)
Summary: After a year of thinking he's dead, it's time to save him and bring him back only he's different this time
The mention of his name had made your blood run cold as the group were fangirling over the infamous assassin made you uneasy. That part of your past had to be buried after you joined Varric, using his work as a base to move forward from him. Treviso was never really the same once he disappeared the coffee shop visits with Illario didn't hit the same as the ones you did with him. You held onto hope that anything could happen that he still could have been okay despite everything. I mean the sky was ripped open in the south by a blighted self made god a few years ago...literally anything could happen.
You sat on the edge of Varric's bed as he rambled on about whatever information he could offer or the book he was thinking about writing as he healed. "You alright kid?" His rough voice startled you, breaking you out of his trance. You blinked at him, trying to get your brain to catch up with the conversation. Varric only chuckled, groaning lightly as he adjusted himself against the cushions. "Yeah...no I'm good, I think" you rambled looking over to the dwarf, your chin now resting on your hands. "Spit it out kid"
The sigh that left your lips was comical, earning another laugh from your companion. How could you just explain the situation? You weren't going to leave him in the prison they were keeping him in you knew that much, but so much had happened since then. You spent a lot of time mourning him, wishing there was something you could have done that made him listen to you when you asked him to stay away from the boat. " 'The Demon of Vyrantium'...I know him from the Crows" you began. Only to be cut off by another laugh, "I assumed that much kid, you are also a Crow or have you forgotten"
You scoffed, but his charm was working, the words felt easier to release in the peacefulness between the two of you. The trust and bond you had created with Dwarf often felt like it ran deep than hired help. "We have a past, we grew up together. Trained together. He was more than a friend" you said. Varric didn't chuckle this time, his eyes scanning for any signs of discomfort that you might have. "He's meant to be dead. I mourned him with his family- he was ambushed in the middle of the ocean before I could say anything"
Varric smiled sadly as you, his perception was something you were grateful for as you could see him reading between the lines of your admission. "I don't know if I'm ready to see a ghost" you whispered. Varric's heart broke looking at you, someone he's always admired for finding the humor in situations, keeping moral high and helping anyone they can. He's seen you walk through the streets handing out money to the unfortunates or having to wait for you to catch up as you pet one of the many cats that roamed the streets. It was like he was seeing a different person. "You've stopped a ritual, fought and entire group of antamnn 20 vs 1. You'll be able to handle it."
"It's not about handling it, it's just...weird. I worry he thought that I wasn't coming for him. Or worse...he's actually dead, and I'd have been given this slither of hope for it to be ripped away from me" you admitted. He didn't reply to that, he had no idea. Varric had seen so much, lost so much over the years. You knew he was understanding, listening to you but we didn't have a choice. If was alive you all needed him no matter what. Your footsteps echoed as you began to leave the room only pausing after Varric spoke your name. "You've got this kid...no matter what". You didn't reply, only giving the man a small nod before the door shut behind you.
The Venatori that greeted you was a welcome distraction as you and Neve passed through the compound with ease. "It's going to take weeks to get the sand out of my boots" you whispered under your breath as you began to break the crystals that held the barriers in your way only to then be met with yet another small group of Venatori. You were part way through peace talking, not that it was going to make a difference your hands itched to sink your blade for revenge - for either taking him away from you or killing him. The sound of feathers was loud as they whipped around the Venatori in a purple flash, you recognized the fight pattern your body freezing on the spot as you observed him work. He was there, right in front of you. You watched as the purple wings disappeared before he turned, holding your breath until your eyes fell upon his face.
Your legs wobbled as you finally made eye contact desperately trying to hold in the sob that threatened to be released. He has changed, you could tell. His body is leaner than you remembered, his eyes and skin having a slight purple glow...and that all without mentioning the new wings that he created moments ago. "L-Lucanis?" You whispered stepping forward. His eyes flashed with recognition his own body stiffening as they scanned your face taking in every detail. The new scars that littered your skin, the way your hair fell now. "Is it really you?" He whispered, his hands tightening around his daggers as he watched you creep closer. He had dreamed of being with you again, the feeling of your comfort as your hand held him. Your smell of that expensive perfume you insisted on buying at the markets. You nodded smiling brightly as you were finally in reach with him. His arms enveloped you first, his head buried in your neck as he took in your scent. "You're really alive?" You whispered. You felt him nod against you, his arms tightening not wanting to let you go. "Let's get you out of here"
The fire crackled as you sat in the common room, the flames dancing heating up the space. The stiffness in your body was the need to go through the door on your right and talk to him, say all those words you wanted to tell him when he returned from that trip a year ago. But he had changed, he wasn't your Lucanis anymore. Demon or no demon you weren't going to ignore him, you just needed to follow his lead. You didn't react when the door opened, or when his footsteps approached the other chair. The two of you stared into the flames finding comfort in the silence. "I never thought I would see you again...nor did I expect you to be the one to rescue me finally" he spoke. You almost felt hurt at the accusation from him about how much you cared. "If I knew where you were a year ago, that bitch would have been long dead" you spoke, venom lacing your tone. He looked at you again, spotting the bags under your eyes, the weight of expectations that now laid heavy against you with the looming threats on Thedas. "I'm happy to have back, there's no one else I'd want by my side during this than you Lucanis"
"Even with spite?"
You smiled at him sadly. The guilt and fear over his possession is laced throughout his features. "Even with spite" you whispered. His hand touched yours as he laced his fingers through yours, he felt himself needing the connection. "Does spite like coffee?" You questioned enjoying his touch. Lucanis chuckled, squeezing your hand. "Yes we can still go on our coffee dates"
#dragon age#dragon age veilguard#dragon age the veilguard#lucanis dellamorte#lucanis x rook#lucanis dellamorte x reader#lucanis dellamorte x rook#lucanis x reader#da4#da4 lucanis
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Lessons in Divine Mercy
Necessary Context: Very early on in my journey with Religious OCD, extremely well-meaning mentors would often tell me the story of the Prodigal Son, and end it with "you just need to trust in God's mercy! He wants to forgive you!" But you see, for me, that was never the problem. 14-year-old me KNEW God wanted to forgive her. She also knew that if she committed a mortal sin, she was supposed to go to confession. And, well, um, she thought everything was a mortal sin. Literally skipped brushing my teeth once and thought it was a mortal sin. What scared me the most was the realization I couldn't literally spend 24/7 in confession. And if I was committing a mortal sin every few minutes, then how was I ever supposed to stay in union with God? To me, absolutely none of this had to do with trusting that God was merciful.
I was wrong.
It took a while to come to this conclusion, but I eventually realized that trusting in God's mercy had more to it than simply trusting He wanted to forgive me. It meant trusting that He knew me better than I knew myself. That He saw my heart and my mind and the absolute agony I was going through, and more than that, that He cared. I had to trust that His mercy was bigger than my illness. That He wasn't scared of my scruples. In practice, that meant I had to trust that even if I somehow managed to
— 1) Commit a mortal sin 2) Convince myself afterwards that it wasn't a mortal sin and I was just obsessing and 3) Forgo going to confession in an attempt to not perform a compulsion— that God would not hold that supposed mortal sin against me. Of course, now I realize how unlikely that entire situation is to even happen in the first place, but at the time it was my reality. It was my fear every single day, and that leap of faith was a terrifying one to make. But when I did, I could finally begin to do the things I needed to heal (aka, avoid compulsions, trusting that God is going to take care of it even if I mislabeled and avoided something I actually should have done as a compulsion).
You see, what I hadn't realized at the time is that God's mercy doesn't just mean He forgives your sins— it means He has a tender, bleeding, broken heart for you. For you and for everything you have been through. For you and for every hurt stored in your chest. For you and you alone, as though you were the only one to ever exist. His mercy does not simply say "go and sin no more," it stoops to write in the sand, and while doing so, finds you at eye level. Looks you in the eye, takes your hand, and raises you to your feet. Calls you by name. The Jesus who meets you in the confessional is the same Jesus who wept when Lazarus died. Whose heart was moved with pity for the crowd. Who dropped everything to raise a little girl from the dead, and the first thing He said when she was awake was to make sure she was given something to eat.
Divine Mercy means that God sees where you are, knows where you are, and pursues you there. Meets you there. Why else do you think He came down to earth as a baby? We got ourselves in trouble by trying to build a tower to heaven because that was never what we were supposed to do. God stoops to us. The confusion of Babble was undone by the descent of the Holy Ghost.
He sees you. He knows you. And He cares. Oh, how it hurts His heart to see you hurt! And how much more it hurts to see you scared of Him. Do you not think the Hands that crafted you know every crevice of your heart? Do you not think that the God who became a baby, whose heart was pierced for love of you, could hold anything inside that heart beside tenderness at the thought of you? For all of eternity He has had a simple wish — to wash your feet and kiss your wounds. Will you trust Him enough to let Him?
#catholic#catholicism#religious ocd#scrupulosity#personal#divine mercy#actually ocd#chrumblr#christianity#Jesus really really loves you#i promise
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𝐅𝐚𝐫 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞
pairing: dbf!ellaria sand x plus size!f!reader x oberyn martell, ellaria sand x oberyn martell
genre: smut, modern au, hurt/comfort, minors dni
word count: 7.2k
summary: Wanting to get away from it all for a while, your dad suggests that you go and stay with his friend in the city; Ellaria Sand. It's been a hot while since you last saw her and you must admit, you have a bit of a crush on the older woman. What you don't expect, however, is to find an equally charming stranger staying with her as well.
warnings: threesome, age gap (reader being in her late twenties), weed use, dirty talking, body insecurities (weight related), piv, oral sex (male and female), praise kink, light bdsm dynamics, subdrop, aftercare, squirting (but like very non explicit squirting as ironic as that sounds dfvdv), use of petnames (little one, pet, good girl), no use of y/n, both ellaria and oberyn are mentioned to be polyamourus, edging
a/n: this is hella indulgent and an idea I've had since September but never actually gotten around writing it. However, while I was taking a nap the idea suddenly consumed me and I had to pause everything else to sit down and write it. Enjoy the filth, there's so much going on ❤️🔥
**dividers by @firefly-graphics 💜
You’re anxious as you wait for the door to open in front of you. It’s been a rough couple of months—years, actually. You feel suffocated by the world around you and yourself. Every day is another battle. You hate to admit it but you’re just so tired of fighting. There’s a constant weight on your chest that doesn’t seem to go away no matter what you do. Which led you to the doorsteps of your dad’s friend, Ellaria Sand.
The idea had came from your dad. Noticing your troubles fitting in, he recommended you go and visit her. You were more than eager to oblige. You loved her company, she had an aura about her that just made you feel welcome. Talking to her came easy since she did most of it, and when you had something to say, she would actually listen.
While you’re thinking about all of this, you’re trying very hard to ignore the fact that you might have a teeny-tiny crush on the older woman. However you’re ready to make the argument that it’s not your fault, she was just too charming—who wouldn’t have a crush on her?
Ellaria’s excitement mimics your own as she opens the door. With a wide smile, she wraps her arms around you and drags you inside.
“How was the trip?” she asks excitedly. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”
“Of course not, I like traveling,” you answer. “Thank you for having me by the way. How are you?”
“Oh, pretty much the same. Nothing new.” she helps you with your luggage and you follow her to the spare bedroom. “Also I forgot to mention on the phone but a friend of mine will be visiting and staying with us as well. Is that okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be,” you say with a leveled voice. “Does the mystery guest have a name?”
As you step into the room, she turns to you, still smiling.
“His name is Oberyn.”
For your first night, you weren’t expecting to get high on the couch with Ellaria, yet here you are, your chest full of cannabis as your head rests over her lap.
“So who is this guy?” you ask as she places the joint between your lips. You feel the warmth of her fingers. “A boyfriend or something?”
“Or something.”
You draw your brows together, confused, “What does that mean?”
“It means my sweet flower,” she answers slowly, dragging her knuckles up your heated cheek. “We’re together but we both agree that the pleasure of the world is too many to limit ourselves to one person.”
“You’re in an open relationship?” you take a deep drag from the joint, your lungs expanding with smoke.
“We’re both polyamorous.”
“Wow, lucky,” you say with an envious tone. She quirks an eyebrow yet her smile continues on to be a humorful one. You stammer with your words. “I-I mean, it’s lucky that you found each other. Must be nice having the same ideals as someone.”
She nods, placing the blunt back between her lips, “It is.”
“Is he nice to you?”
You’re not quite sure what prompts you to as that. First of all, it feels way too personal of a question to be asking your father’s friend. Even though Ellaria has spoken about her sexual relationships before, it still feels like your might be crossing an invisible line. A fog settles over your mind, loosening your tongue. You’re fascinated by functioning relationships. You’re fascinated by the idea of two people actually being understanding and caring towards each other—as ridiculous as that may sound. You haven’t had the best experiences when it came to partners, most of them going into it with hopes of changing who you are, so anytime you see two people actually liking each other’s company you can’t help but want to pull out a camera and record everything.
Ellaria blows smoke toward your face, the warmth of it ghosting over your skin like a summer breeze.
“He is. I wouldn’t really be with him if he wasn’t.” she pinches your cheek. “You have a weird look on your face.”
“Oh,” you answer dumbly. “Sorry.”
“I’m just worried. Your father didn’t really say anything other than you really needed a break.”
“I guess I’m just a bit lonely.”
“Well,” she says and reaches towards the ashtray to snuff out the blunt. “If that’s the case you came to the right place. You can stay as long as you want to.” before you can say anything, she starts rolling another one and a loud knock echoes across the dimly lit apartment.
“Ah, that must be Oberyn.”
Begrudgingly, you remove yourself away from her lap and watch Ellaria make her way toward the door. She’s wearing an orange dress, the color warming her skin. You can’t help the way your gaze drops to her behind, the soft fabric hugging her curves delicately.
With a noise, you hurriedly snap your eyes away. It’s not the time to be ogling her like a piece of meat.
No matter how good she looks.
You weakly attempt to collect yourself when Ellaria returns with a tall man in tow. As you get up, you stagger a bit but manage to immediately keep yourself upright by holding on to Oberyn’s outstretched hand. His smile is kind, and the kindness reaches the depth of his eyes. Though you also see a hint of curiosity in them. His palm is searing against yours and his fingers are long and nice-looking, you spot a stylish golden ring on his thumb.
A bit scared, and a bit excited, you meet his gaze. He’s quite handsome. In fact, you believe you might be in the presence of the most attractive two people in the city. His facial hair is neatly trimmed, framing his jawline which in return gives it an even more sharper look.
While you two remain hand in hand, Ellaria makes the introductions. Oberyn’s thumb smooths down your inner writs. A shiver rolls down your spine. “It is very lovely to meet you,” he says earnestly.
“Likewise.”
Oberyn picks up the unlit joint Ellaria had left on the coffee table before she went to greet him. You see a faint sparkle in his eyes. “You two were smoking?” he asks, turning to Ellaria.
“To relax the nerves, my love,” she answers with a playful smile. “Help yourselves, I’ll be back in a minute.”
You feel as if someone poured cold water over your head, “Maybe I can help?” you take a step forward, intent on following her to wherever she was going—which you assume is the kitchen. But she stops you with the raise of her hand.
“Please, I’ll be right back. In the meanwhile you two get acquainted.”
A second later it’s just you and Oberyn alone in the living room. He seems unbothered and lights the joint as he takes a seat. There’s a certain air of expertise and elegance in whatever he does. He pats the cushion next to him, “Sit.”
You sigh softly, collapsing next to him. He flicks the lighter and leans towards the tiny flame, his eyes fixed on the empty threshold. He takes two quick exhales, the tip of the joint burning a bright orange. Smoke pours from the corners of his lips. You’re mesmerized by the sight of him. Shadows dance over his face, giving him a dark look.
“How do you two know each other?” he asks, snapping you away from your thoughts.
You blink, momentarily lost in his gaze, before extending your hand to take another drag from the joint. Your fingers feel slightly numb as you bring it to your lips. "She's a friend of my dad's," you explain, your voice barely above a whisper. "We've known each other for a while."
Oberyn nods, his fingers gently brushing the back of your neck, sending tingles down your spine. Your breath catches in your throat, and you find yourself leaning closer to him, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
“What about you?” you ask, hating the way your voice trembled.
A soft smile plays on his lips. His thumbs continue their soothing caress on the back of your neck, tracing delicate patterns that send a shiver of pleasure through your body.
"She walked into my lecture one day," Oberyn begins, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "I was talking about the ancient civilizations of Essos, and there she was, her eyes filled with curiosity. After the lecture, she approached me with such confidence, asking questions that sparked my own curiosity. I learned that she was an artist and she was lacking inspiration. She thought a trip to the past would spark something in her." he says blissfully. “And spark it did.”
“You’re a professor?”
He hums, elevated by your intrigue, “Yes, but I do prefer excavating and traveling to new sites.” he explains, his voice tinged with a hint of longing. "It's much more freeing, rather than being trapped between four walls."
His words wash over you like a gentle caress, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, craving more of his warmth. The joint burns low between your fingers, forgotten for a moment. With a jolt of panic, you extend it back to him.
Oberyn's voice lowers even further, a velvet murmur that tickles your ear. "She's a remarkable woman, isn't she? So full of life and passion."
A soft sigh escapes your lips as you find yourself nodding, captivated by the combination of his words and the tender touch of his thumbs on your skin. "Yes, she is," you reply.
“You like her,” Oberyn says, a statement, rather than a question. You’re horrified by the implication of it. Your lips part and close, words failing to come out. His sudden burst of laughter makes you jump. “Do not look so worried, I’m not here to judge you. I appreciate anyone who sees her for the gorgeous woman that she is.”
His fingers find purchase under your chin, he lifts your gaze, dark eyes boring into yours. You forget how to breathe. With a soft smile, Oberyn brings the joint to his lips and takes a deep inhale, You can hear the sizzle of it, and feel the heat that radiates from the crimson tip. Your lips part by instinct, he leans closer.
Oberyn fills your lungs with delicious smoke. Your lips never touch, yet you swear you can feel them pressed together. He breathes life into you and when it’s all done, he licks himself deep into your mouth. Pressing deeper, Oberyn flattens his tongue against yours and nips your bottom lip. Sweat drips from your spine and gathers at your tailbone. His hands affectionately cradle your face, inhaling you one last time, he breaks the kiss.
You’re a panting mess, your lips tingling for more.
“Take off your clothes.”
Your eyes go wide, “I—Excuse me what?” slightly inching forward, you stare into his eyes. “Ellaria is right down the hall, wouldn’t it be. . . rude?”
That sparks an amused chuckle from him. “You’re adorable,” he muses. “I promise you that she wants this as much as I do.”
“She. . . does?”
“Ellaria adores you. She also enjoys sharing her favorite things with the one’s that she cares for,” his fingers curl around your throat and you swallow. Oberyn tilts your head to the side. “Now, let me see you.”
And this is the part where your insecurities make an ugly appearance. You avert your gaze, hugging yourself while Oberyn continues to stare. You want to do this. You absolutely do, if the slick gathering in your underwear is any indication, but it’s still hard for you to believe that he wants to.
You feel the bite of his nails and bring your gaze back to him. You’re not sure what does it, but you find yourself scrambling off of the couch. You don’t see not one ounce of a lie in those eyes—you only see lust and intrigue. Besides, you came here to loosen up, what better way is there to do that than making out with a handsome stranger?
When you’re left only in your bra and underwear, Oberny pulls you to his lap and you let out a soft gasp. He unclasps your bra and throws it over the small pile of clothes you had left behind, leaving you only in your, visibly soaked, panties.
“Oberyn. . .”
You jolt at the soft lilt of Ellaria’s voice. You stiffen over the older man’s lap, not knowing what to do. With a smile, he draws soothing circles over your thighs.
Ellaria takes a seat next to you two. You’re too flustered to look at her but despite not looking, you see the delicate curl of her lips.
“She’s too beautiful not to touch,” Oberyn drags his nose down your neck, and you smile giddily. Your heart beating a mile a minute. “Don’t you agree with me, Ellaria?”
Her tongue swiping over her bottom lip, she reaches out and holds your breast, weighing it with her palm. She brushes a thumb over your pebbled nipple, a soft whine parts your lips. “I do.”
“You think I’m beautiful?”
“Of course, love. Why would I not think you are beautiful?”
You grow silent. Ellaria’s fingers dances along your arm and heat settles in your core. Oberyn, with a curious gaze and a half smile, drags his thumbs down to the soft contours of your stomach rolls and gently pinches. You whine, sticking your bottom lip out, you look away from them both.
“I think I have an idea why she thinks like that,” he hums. Ellaria’s gaze drops to where Oberyn’s hands rest, meaning your stomach. Your cheeks burn. Her eyebrows raised, you feel the weight of her gaze locked onto your face, but still, you refuse to look at her. Or him. “She lives in a cruel world that makes her think she’s anything but desirable. But we see her for what she is.”
“And what’s that?” you mutter, embarrassed to be read so easily. He was right, you never thought of yourself as being desirable, even if you desperately wanted to. There were mornings you just woke up hating yourself, staring into the mirror and poking endlessly at your face and observing every imperfection. You’re tired of it. Tired of thinking of yourself as less. Which is one of the reasons why you came here. Why your dad wanted you to spend time with Ellaria, he knew the woman had ways of making you feel better.
Oberyn's firm yet gentle grasp on your chin draws your attention, anchoring your gaze and shifting your focus solely to him. His smile is wide and predatory, like a snake. You tremble as his hands slide from your stomach to your waist, their scorching touch and commanding presence stirring a primal reaction within you.
“You’re a gorgeous girl,” he answers with a melodic lilt from his sinful tongue. “The type of girl we want to ravish for as long as you’re staying here.”
“If you want to, of course,” Ellaria adds, playfully pinching your nipple. Your eyes flutter closed. The sudden mixture of pleasure and pain makes your skin tingle pleasantly. “Do you, little one?”
You nod. Everything that’s happening feels like a fever dream. The scent of cannabis is still heavy in the air, making you feel soft and slow like molasses. Ellaria’s fingers dance along your nape, nimble fingers sliding into the roots of your hair, she gently tugs. Meanwhile, Oberyn nips at the soft skin of your neck.
“Words, love.” Ellaria commands.
“Yes,” you breathe out, voice shaking. “I want to. . . if you guys want to.”
Oberyn whispers, “Good girl,” against your skin, and a wave of dizziness engulfs you. The two devour with the ways they touch and bite. Ellaria’s lips melt into your own as Oberyn cups both your breasts, kneading the soft mounds.
Kissing Ellaria had been a fantasy you frequently indulged in over the years and you’re pleasantly surprised to realize she tastes like cherries and roses. You have endless memories of slipping your hand between your legs as soon as you were in the privacy of your room. You always had a feeling that she knew. Her gaze too observant, too cunning not to see the thoughts lingering in your head.
Oberyn lowers his head and lifts your breasts to his mouth. He laves his tongue over your nipples hungrily. A wanton moan echoes in the back of your throat, your head falls as you part away from Ellaria. You hear her chuckle. “You taste sweet,” she comments, making you keen. “Despite the smoke Oberyn blew into your lungs.”
“You saw that?”
“You two weren’t exactly being discreet.”
You’re hot all over, embarrassment pouring over you like summer rain. Oberyn doesn’t seem to care, consumed with the taste of your flesh. Your underwear sticks to your folds and you squirm over his lap. The man groans when you brush his length, you feel him twitch through the soft fabric of his sweats. The blood rush is loud in your ears.
He feels. . . big.
“Shit,” you mumble, delving your fingers into his short locks. You tug him closer to your chest and sloppily grind on top of him. You feel the sharpness of his teeth and then—
He bites you.
With a sharp cry you jerk away, your gaze instantly finding Oberyn’s. The man is grinning from ear to ear. Your heart beats wildly against your ribcage. “What was that for?” you gasp, chest heaving.
“It was an affectionate bite,” he teases, then presses his lips over the tiny dents. “Did it hurt?”
“No . . .” you answer, sounding uncertain. “I was just surprised.”
Ellaria rolls her eyes and tugs Oberyn towards her. The man goes willingly, his wicked smile never fading as she crashes their lips together. You see the pink of Ellaria’s tongue slip between Oberyn’s lips. His hands drop, his thumbs digging into the crease between your thighs and hips. You watch wide-eyed at the way the two devour each other. They’re so earnest, so hungry. It makes you ache between your legs and a bit in your heart. While Ellaria licks herself deeper into his mouth, Oberyn guides the roll of your hips.
Suddenly struggling about where to put your hands, you place them on his chest. The fabric of his shirt bunches underneath your fingers. Your eyes roll at the delicious caress of his clothed cock. You want to feel more.
When they part, a string of saliva connects them still. Oberyn grins at her and tilts his head toward you. “She likes the show it seems,” he states.
With a soft smile, Ellaria turns to you. She cups your cheek and smooths her thumb over your heated skin. Your heart soars. She’s so tender, so soft with you. It makes you dizzy. You never thought someone like her would be interested. And you don’t only say this because of your physical insecurities, you just always felt like she would find you too inexperienced. Too young. You always had this unnecessary fear of sounding dumb when you talked with her.
“What are you thinking?” she whispers, coming closer. Her hot breath fans your skin as Oberyn flattens his tongue over your neck, dragging the wet muscle up until his nose is firmly pressed against your jaw.
“I’m thinking that this must be a dream,” you answer. “And I’m thinking how intoxicating you two are.”
Oberyn’s smile is wide as he pulls away, his eyebrows raised. “Look at that, she found her tongue. How delightful.”
Ellaria kisses the right corner of your lips and addresses Oberyn. “You’ll scare her, she’s fragile.”
“I’m not fragile,” you pout. With a laugh, she presses her lips against your jutted lip. “I’m just nervous. . . you know my experiences haven’t been—” You clear your throat, suddenly aware of Oberyn’s eyes on you. “Great.”
“I know, baby. I know.”
Obeyn chimes in, his gaze moving to Ellaria, “What does that mean?”
“Poor girl never came from another hand but her own.”
“Ellaria!”
“Oh?” Oberyn’s eyes bore into your own. It’s so intense that you can’t look away, and honestly, you’re not sure that you want to. He pulls down your bottom lip, dipping his thumb into the seam. “You won’t have to worry about that with us, sweet creature.”
“I’m sure,” you hum, a coy smile playing on your lips. “So can we uh. . . can we take this to the bedroom? I’m not that comfortable on the couch. If that’s okay?”
“Of course,” Ellaria answers. “Besides I hate how this fabric feels against my skin. So the bed is definitely preferred.”
Oberyn, without saying a word, nuzzles your neck before pulling you to your feet. You falter, still a bit dazed. Yet, his arm catches you, keeping you from falling.
“Careful,” he tuts, lips touching your forehead.
Oberyn’s arm never leaves your waist as Ellaria guides the two of you through the hallway of her home. A route you don’t doubt Oberyn has taken many times before.
You aren’t sure what to expect when you enter Ellaria’s room. It’s quite neat, the bed quite big, which doesn’t surprise you in the least.
Ellaria looks at you with a smile, curling her fingers around the elastic of your underwear, she tugs you close. Oberyn looms right behind you, he hadn’t closed the door as he entered. His cock hard and aching, resting between the crease of your clothed ass cheeks. His palms caress the soft mounds, his breath warm and wet against your nape.
You’re suddenly highly aware that you’re the only one practically naked. Noticing this, heat crawls up your chest and curls around your neck. At any moment you expect to wake up in the familiar setting of the guest room, none of this seems real.
“Lay down, Oberyn,” Ellaria’s voice breaks the silence, her eyes never leaving yours as she addresses her lover. “We’ll join you shortly.”
“Hmm,” he kisses your neck, your legs shake in response. “Should I take off my clothes?”
“Yes.”
Oberyn smiles, gives your ass one last firm squeeze, and retreats. And as much as you want to stare at the man in his full naked glory, it’s hard to pull your gaze away from Ellaria. You hear the bed creaking under the man’s weight. Still, you don’t turn to look. Ellaria kneels before you, tugging your underwear along with her. Her hands, despite not being large as Oberyn’s, feels all consuming. They languidly slide above your calves and thighs as she raises to stand on her feet once more.
When she stands, you make a move to take off her garments but she gently pushes your hands back. “You watch,” she says, pulling off the straps of her dress and allowing it to pool at her ankles.
You touch her like art. Soft and slow. Almost as if she wasn’t there. You cup her waist and skim your palm until you reach the side of her breast, in which you hold tenderly under your hand. A soft gasp leaves her and you look at her with shock and amazement. You bend forward, closing your lips around the tender nipple. You swirl your tongue around the areola, her eyes fluttering as she lets out a sigh.
“That’s nice,” she says, looking at you between heavy eyelids. “You don’t need to be shy with us.”
If it were anyone else saying that you wouldn’t have believed them, “I think you’re right,” you whisper, more to yourself rather than her. “You’re sure you don’t mind me being. . . timid?”
Her brows furrow with confusion, her gaze searching your own as your thumb continues to dance over the darker patch of skin. Then you see it, the recognition flashing in her eyes. She might’ve forgotten, but you remember her talking about how much of a bore it was to be with unsure people. Timid, as she had put it. Which is something you’re being right now—you think.
Your eyes find Oberyn’s from above her shoulder. It’s a fleeting moment. But he seems to be eating you both with the darkness of his eyes. Your heart skips a beat. Ellaria’s hand cradles the back of your neck, gently tightening her grip. When your gaze moves back to her, you see that she’s smiling.
“I didn’t mean you when I said that,” she answers. “You lack confidence, there’s a difference. And I doubt you’ll be holding yourself back after regaining it.”
“You don’t think I’m boring?”
“I don’t,” leaning in, she drags her nose over yours, soft lips only an inch away. “Let’s not keep Oberyn waiting.”
When you both turn, you see that Oberyn is softly touching himself. Fingers teasingly moving up and down his impressive length. You clench your teeth, arousal overwhelming every orifice of your body. “How should we do this?” he asks, eyes on Ellaria.
Grinning, she gently nudges your shoulder with her own, you can’t stop staring at Oberyn however. He’s all lean muscle, the extra padding making him look fit. The coarse dark hairs lead a path from his softened stomach to his pulsing cock. Noticing your gaze, he wraps a hand around himself and starts to fuck his fist with hard strokes. He watches with delight at the way you lick your lips when a bead of precome appears on the tip.
“Would you want to taste him?” Ellaria’s lips touch your ear.
An awkward chuckle bubbles from your chest, “Am I being that obvious?”
“Only slightly.”
She guides you to the bed, and you take your place between Oberyn’s legs while Ellaria is more to the side. His hand instantly finds the side of your face, thumb tugging at the corner of your lips as he stares at you with a softened gaze.
“Needy,” he murmurs. “I’m going to enjoy playing with you, little one.”
You feel your pupils physically expanding. Ellaria drags her nails down your scalp, you purr at the sensation. “He likes it when you go slow,” she informs. “Start at the tip and drag your tongue down, he likes being teased.”
With an urge to please, you do exactly as she says. First, you swirl your tongue around the bulbous head, his thighs stiffen, then you flatten your tongue and move down. The moan that comes from him is unfiltered and loud. Slick gushes between your legs.
“Good girl,” he gasps. “You too.”
It takes you a while to understand what Oberyn means. You only become aware that he was addressing Ellaria when the other joins you, licking a stripe up the other side of his length. You moan as you take the head between your lips, meanwhile, Ellaria closes her lips around the base, sucking the delicate skin. A choked out moan parts his lips, not being able to keep still, his hips stutter, forcing you to take more of him. His width spreads your lips wide. Your eyes water and you feel Ellaria’s tongue as she kisses the skin right under your eye.
She replaces your lips with her own. You watch in a dazed manner as she takes Oberyn down her throat with practiced ease. His fingers tangle into her curls when she hollows her cheeks, forcing her head down. The sight alone makes you drip for them both. Now feeling even bold, you meet Ellaria’s lips while she’s sucking on the tip. You swear you see a ghost of a grin when she slips her tongue into your mouth. You taste a mixture of them in your mouth, and your head spins. Not wanting to part away, both of you lower yourselves, taking Oberyn between your lips as your tongues struggle to meet around his cock.
“Fuuuck,” he groans, cock twitching between the pair of lips. You feel his rough fingers moving along your cheek. “You’re doing so well—both of you are,” Ellaria pulls away and winks at you before turning to Oberyn. You take him halfway into your mouth, the tip touching the back of your throat. He makes a sound, burying his head further into the pillows. “If you continue doing that I’m going to come.”
The sound of his voice lights a flame in you, the strokes of your tongue becoming more wild and eager. You swallow around him, over and over, until Ellaria pulls you away.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” you choke out, eyes flitting between the two. “I want you to come,” you then add, jerking him.
“Oh it is,” he answers with a sly smile. “But before that, I want to see you come undone on my tongue. And my cock.”
Ellaria feels you shudder as she traces the line of your spine, “Get on all fours,” she says barely in a whisper.
You do as you’re told. Arousal coils tightly in your stomach, your body burning from the inside out. You’re over-excited. Your breathing coming out in short, rushed pants. Oberyn gets behind you as Ellaria takes Oberyn’s place and pulls you between her delicate thighs. Your one arm instantly curls around one leg as you brace yourself with the other by flattening your palm over the mattress.
Oberyn’s fingers languidly slide down the curve of your ass and slip two of them into your soaking heat with ease. You melt into the touch, your elbow immediately giving way and falling. Without thinking much you kiss the inside of Ellaria’s thighs, sucking and nipping her ample flesh. Oberyn begins to thrust his fingers in and out. Your walls flutter around the digits, your body growing tenses.
“So wet,” he approves. “You must be very excited.”
“F-Fuck, I am,” you whimper, attempting to meet the thrust of his fingers.
He scissors his fingers and curls them, applying pressure to a delicate spot deep inside. A jolt of electricity rushes over you. Your body engulfed in a crackling heat.
“Taste her,” he says. “Aren’t you curious?”
Instead of answering, you meet Ellaria’s gaze before pressing your lips into her cunt. You moan into her, and she draws up her legs, bracketing you between the inside of her thighs. She cradles the back of your head with both hands, guiding you as you drag your tongue between her folds. She tastes fucking delicious. You love this, love giving her pleasure. With a hum, you close your lips around her aching clit and suck. Hard.
Her body jolts, the bed underneath creaking. Oberyn swears from underneath his breath, and you imagine him staring at Ellaria’s debouched face. You bet she looks beautiful. Nudging the bundle of nerves with the curve of your nose, you tease her entrance with your tongue, slowly pushing in.
“And you worried you would be timid,” she croaks out, her back arching as she tugs you closer. “Look at you now, my sweet girl doing such a good job in pleasing us.”
Oberyn’s fingers are replaced with his sinful tongue, heat drips from your spine. Without wanting to, you pull away from Ellaria, moaning loudly between her legs. His tongue delves deeper, kissing your folds and lapping at everything you have to offer. He grazes his teeth and you writhe against him, your lips moving sloppily along the apex of her thighs as you attempt to kiss her.
His tongue feels too damn long. . . he pushes the soft muscle inside, the mild stretch making your stomach roll. Oberyn is much better at this than you are. No doubt about it. Ellaria only watches as the most sinful sounds escape your throat. He fucks you with his tongue and between thrusts, he manages to flick your clit with the pointed tip. It makes you feral. You’re not even sure what you’re doing anymore. You continue to taste Ellaria, albeit much more sloppily compared to before. You catch her gaze whenever the fog in your head lifts, her lips are parted, eyes half-lidded.
“I think you’re ready to take me,” Oberyn says, his voice hoarse.
Before you can answer, Ellaria cups your cheeks, pulling you away from her core. Your chest heaves. She swipes her thumb over your lips, spreading the wetness caused by her cunt. “I want you to pick a word, love.”
“A word?” you cringe internally at how out of it you sound. They haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already a mess.
“A safeword,” Oberyn explains Ellaria’s words further. His hands grip your love handles and squeeze them tenderly, he pulls you back and you feel the warmth of his cock heavy on your ass.
You think for a minute, your eyes darting around Ellaria’s face and the wall behind her. Your mind is completely empty. Blank. Not even one word comes to mind.
Oberyn licks his lips, “How about that stoplight system? Green for go, yellow for slow down, and red for stop?”
Ellaria’s gaze searches your own, and you nod, “That sounds good.”
“Alright then,” Oberyn purrs, etching closer. He slides his cock between your folds, his hands skimming up your waist. Ellaria continues to hold your face, watching your every expression with interest. Your eyes widen— is she waiting to see your expression when Oberyn enters you? Fuck. Heat blossoms in your chest. “What is your color now?” he asks, hand cupping the back of your neck.
“Green,” you say with a whimper.
Oberyn pushes in inch by inch. He stretches you beautifully, only a hint of pain following while he fills you. Ellaria smiles as your eyes roll back, your lips parting with a guttural sound. He feels so good. So deep. When he’s fully sheathed inside, he waits for you to adjust to his size. Your legs shake. You’re barely keeping yourself together. Ellaria slips her thumb into your mouth and you wrap your lips around her diligently. She hums with approval.
“Does she feel good?” Ellaria asks Oberyn.
“Yes. She feels like she was made for me. Such a perfect hole to fill.”
You shudder, dripping down his cock and the inside of your thighs. “Oh god—” you choke out, your voice thick.
Ellaria releases you when Oberyn rocks his hips impatiently. Your cheek drops to her thigh and with a shaky hand, you bring your fingers to her cunt, slowly slipping two of them inside. You know she wasn’t expecting it when her head snaps back. You can’t help the little smile that graces your lips. Her heat consumes you. Oberyn’s thrusts become faster, harder, sinking deep into your cunt. And with every stroke of his cock, your fingers go deeper into Ellaria.
It’s a beautiful mess.
You’re not sure how thin the walls are, you hope that they’re thick. You mentally apologize to the neighbors if not because none of you are making an effort to keep quiet. Ellaria grinds to meet your fingers, meanwhile, Oberyn’s cock is splitting you into two. His pace is brutal, you feel your skin rippling as his hips snap into you. Honestly, you’re not even trying to move your hand anymore, it’s all Oberyn—So technically, he’s fucking two people at once.
Suddenly you find yourself being shoved into Ellaria’s delectable cunt, Oberyn pushes you down, blunt nails biting into your scalp. With a groan, you once again close your lips around her clit and suck. You swirl your tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves, then gently —almost fearfully due to the harsh grind of Oberyn’s hips— you graze your teeth.
Ellaria cries out, a sound that takes you by surprise. Between wet eyelashes, you watch as her face contorts in pleasure, her walls squeezing your fingers tight. Her clit throbs against your tongue and just like that, she’s gushing heavily into your mouth. Oberyn’s movements slow, his brutal pace becoming a lazy one as his cock massages your walls. You have a feeling he’s watching her as well.
Noticing that she’s crying out both your names, your pulse quickens.
You pull out your fingers and hold her hips, wet streaks glisten on top of her sun-kissed skin. Burying your mouth deep within her folds, you allow your tongue to lick the remains. Another, more gentle, orgasm washes over her, the cries from before becoming sighs of languid pleasure.
“Good girl,” Oberyn growls, his hand becomes a necklace around your neck and he hauls you up. He shoves his lips against your ear, the tremor of his voice making you tremble. “You know, I’ve never seen her come quite that hard with the others. She must like you a lot, pet.”
fuckfuckfuck
The way he rolls his tongue as he says it, pet—you don’t expect it to affect you that much but it does, your entire body tenses, his cock easing in and out of you even faster thanks to the way you gush around him.
“You like that?”
Shit, he noticed.
“I—I—”
He grabs your chin and clashes your lips in a bruising kiss. Oberyn leaves you breathless, your lungs convulse, burning with the lack of oxygen. You taste a hint of yourself on his tongue.
“Our sweet pet,” he murmurs against your lips. “You’re stunning like this, all fucked out.”
Oberyn kisses you once more then turns to Ellaria with a smile, “I can still taste you on her tongue.”
“I would think so. She was quite thorough,” she teases, her gaze fixed on you.
Ellaria touches herself slowly as Oberyn resumes his brutal pace. Wet noises flood the dimly lit room, Oberyn buries his face where your neck meets your shoulder. You feel the softness of his lips and the sharpness of his teeth. Your loins burn.
Oberyn dangles you on the edge of a cliff. Every time you’re close to your release, he slows his hips into a gentle roll, only to build you up again. Ellaria simply watches, gently drawing tender circles while Oberyn toys with you. Their pet.
“Please,” you beg. “I want to come.”
You sound teary and embarrassed. Oberyn kisses your neck. “You have been good,” he murmurs, eyes moving to Ellaria. “What do you say?”
“Let her come,” she sighs, smiling. “Make it feel good for her, Oberyn.”
Oberyn makes a sound of eager approval. His one hand slips between your legs as the other grasp your breast, keeping your sweat-soaked body flush against him. His fingers draw tight, quick circles around your clit as he presses into you, hips smacking against your flesh over and over.
It doesn’t take you long after that.
Your orgasm hits you like a truck—hell, it hits you like a train. It’s violent, intense. Every muscle grows taut and your skin tingles as if it’s burned. You can’t even cry out properly, your mouth wide in a silent scream. Something warm trickles down your thighs, and if it wasn’t for Oberyn’s constant, steady praise in your ear you would’ve been embarrassed. But instead, you just slump against him. Your body feeling limp as if you might never be able to stand again. He rolls his hips, and each time waves of pleasure wash over you, it’s not as intense, but it feels amazing.
“That’s it,” he rasps. “I’m going to pull out now, okay?”
Your nod is followed by a hiss when he does, the sudden lack of him making you feel empty, and frankly, a little bit sad. However, you don’t get the chance to linger on the feeling as Oberyn guides you toward the empty spot next to Ellaria.
She holds you in a tight embrace, whispering praise into your hair. Oberyn shuffles until he’s behind her, his arm draped over her waist. His cock is still hard and heavy between his legs, glistening with your slick.
You ask weakly to Oberyn, “What about you?”
“Always so thoughtful,” Ellaria purrs. She throws her arm back, pulling Oberyn close by the neck. He kisses a delicate path up that follows the curve of her neck. “You don’t need to worry about him. Just relax. . . and enjoy yourself.”
When Oberyn sinks into her, you understand why Ellaria was so eager to watch your expression.
You stare into the small bathroom mirror above the sink, the light irritating your eyes. You’re fresh out of the shower, naked, still dripping, the drops warm as it slides down your skin. Ellaria’s reflection comes into view, also naked, her hands delicately moving over your body, examing to see if you’re hurt anywhere.
“How do you feel?” she asks, satisfied with her examination.
“I’m fine,” you answer dismissively, still staring at your reflection. You feel detached, your limbs slow and tenderly aching.
Oberyn squeezes a tub of minty toothpaste over the bristles of your brush and holds your chin. Instinctively, you turn to him. He gently pinches your jaw. You open your mouth.
He starts to brush your teeth. This man you just met, this man who just railed the ever-living shit out of you. . . is tenderly brushing your teeth. You taste the mint and without meaning to, you wrinkle your nose. He laughs.
“It’ll be over soon.”
The thing that makes you tear up is how delicate they are with you. It’s unexpected. They don't think you’re invincible just from your looks. They see that you’re broken, see that you want to be taken care of. And they humor you, treating you as you wish to be treated, without you having to say so.
They touch you as if you are a glass rose. It makes your chest ache.
“I think I have ointment somewhere,” Ellaria mutters to herself, turning on her heel and looking over the shelves. “It will soothe your skin.”
The small sniffle you make goes unnoticed by Ellaria but not Oberyn. With a raised eyebrow, he pulls out the toothbrush. “Rinse,” he says simply. He turns on the faucet for you and you fill your mouth with water. You swish it around. Then look to him before doing anything else. “Spit.”
You watch as the foamy water goes down the drain. You straighten back up, watching the reflections that dance in the mirror once more. You feel his eyes on you but you’re too flustered to answer his gaze. Ellaria holds a small container of ointment, when she sees your expression her brows furrow.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you mumble, not truly knowing the answer yourself. Oberyn opens the faucet again and rinses the toothbrush. After placing it back, he brushes his lips over yours, the gesture sparking life back into your body. “I don’t know,” you then say. “It just feels all so nice, I’m not used to. . . I don’t know, sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Ellaria says, opening the small container. She takes a hefty amount with two fingers and rubs it into the tender skin of your asscheeks. “It’s normal. You haven’t been feeling well lately, and it’s common to feel a bit of a drop after.”
“Is it really?” you ask.
Oberyn answers you instead, “It is. You’ll feel much better when we’re back in bed when you’re between us.”
Ellaria nods and you manage to smile. With a soft chuckle, you shake your head. “You two are too nice to me.”
“The bare minimum shouldn’t be surprising you this much,” Oberyn’s gaze softens. “But we’ll fix that.”
As the two guide you back to the bedroom, you believe they will.
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 ! ❞
⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. he gets saved by strange photographer girl and gets persuaded to start his life all over, a new beginning he didn't deserve.
⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. y.seongji x reader .
⋆.˚ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. ~1.2k .
⋆.˚ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. crack, a little. (kinda) plantonic. f!reader. self - made au ! [reader saves to the person who deserved it the most in lookism] . spoiler - warning . safe for minors! crappy writing. seongji may seem ooc .
SNAP !
The male figure, lost in thoughts, got pulled out of his trance, averting his gaze to a woman who held a camera in her hands. Not a moment passed as you lowered your camera to meet his eyes, now staring at him with a smile. "Sorry. I was passing by and then I saw you, going deeper into the water." you explained yourself before taking a good look into the gallery.
"You should stop here or you'll get lost in the ocean." she said while inspecting the shot she took, "it's actually pretty good."
Did she just take a picture without asking? But on other hand, it doesn't matter. He'll drown himself anyway.
"Wow, are you a model?" she asked, finally looking up again.
Just to see him walking away, deeper into the sea. "H-Hey!—" her eyes widened, immediately making her was to him, yet the water was slowing her down. "What are you doing?!" she questioned and took a hold around his wrist, "you could die but I won't let you! Hey, you stranger!—" the woman let out a huff, letting her camera hang around her neck before wrapping her arms around his torso.
"Let go!" those were the first words he let out of his mouth, gripping onto your arms that were hugging him tightly.
"No, are you stupid?! If you go further, drag me with you!" you cried out, "or maybe I'm as stupid as you!"
Suddenly — he lost his balance because of your unexpected, added weight, stumbling down while also taking you with him. The moment you two were falling, he wrapped his arms around you as if it was to protect you. His back crashed down into the sea, the water cushioned the fall and let you two sink into it. You opened your eyes again, pushing yourself up.
"Erm... Sorry! And thanks!" you puffed and looked down, only to see him passed out in the water. "Huh?! Sorry! The camera between us must've hurt!"
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
The fresh smell of ramen woke him up. His eyes opened slowly. And the first thing he saw was the night sky. The moon that was, for once not covered by the clouds, shining calmly down on the beach. "Finally awake, huh? You suicidal maniac." the voice of someone familiar hit his ears as he eventually sat up, his hand was making contact with the sand underneath him.
"You." the person he meant didn't answer. "Why did you stop me?"
Well, yeah. You'd actually turn the question around. Who wouldn't stop someone from unaliving themselves? But you didn't answer, staring at him as if he grew a second head. "Here. Probably didn't eat, right? Your stomach was growling all the time while you were sleeping. And then I got hungry too so I ate before you woke up." you handed him the ramen you bought.
"Answer already." he demanded, not moving to accept the free food.
"If you don't take it, I'll eat it." you huffed and waited again. This time, he actually grabbed the noodles without averting his gaze from you. Wow, you thought he would be more stubborn. "It's getting cold."
"It's already cold."
"Hey, eat it now before I take it back for real now."
Persuaded by your words, his finger twitched, finally opening the already opened cup noodles as he looked down at them. There was no soup visible, already soaked up by the noodles. "Youch. Why dish youh save meh?" he asked once again, this time his words sounded pretty much incoherent. But you still understood most of it.
"Don't talk while eating. It just shows that you have bad manners." you sighed out before introducing yourself, "the name's [name] [lastname] by the way. If you're talking to me then use my name."
"[name]." he stopped eating the noodles for a moment just to hear your name out of his mouth.
"Yes?"
"...why did you save me?" he began to continue with the slurping.
"I mean, isn't it understandable? If someone tries to unalive themselves, you would stop them, wouldn't you?" you raised an eyebrow. "It's common sense."
"I'm a murderer."
Suddenly, the cold wind blew stronger this time, his hair flowed with the air, letting him still look beautiful. You wonder if he is a model. He could if he wanted. "Oh right. What did you say?" you asked him to repeat his words, not even listening. And when you processed what he said, you froze. "Ah, you're a murderer? Nice joke." his expression told you otherwise. "...well. A life is a life."
The guy infront of you frowned and you ask yourself why. What do you mean your answer didn't explain your actions? "I killed someone." the noodles are long forgotten, hiding behind all the thoughts he had. Because of you. What kind of reaction was that? He just told you he killed someone. So why did you shrug your shoulders as if it didn't really matter. "I took someone's life."
"And your face says you regretted it. You also tried to take your own life? You think it makes it better if you just disappear from the world? Isn't there someone who is worries about you?" you knitted your eyebrows in confusion, slight anger.
"It's better for them if I just disappeared. After all, I took the life of their friend. A sister." his eyes sank to the sand. "I'm an ugly monster."
"..." you couldn't help but chuckle at his last sentence. "Hey, if you're ugly what am I?"
"Stop laughing. I'm being serious."
"I am serious. If you're ugly, I must be super duper ugly." you huffed, "what's your name?"
"...Seongji." he answered after a while of silence. "Seongji Yuk."
"Again, if you call yourself ugly, I must be a goblin."
"I never said that."
"Yeah sure, you're thinking that."
"I was not."
"But now you're imagining me as a goblin, right?"
"No."
"Eat your noodles or I will."
"Youch are sho wheird."
"Bad manners. Oh by the way you owe me ramen AND a new camera."
"..."
Seongji stared at you. You stared at Seongji. Until he break the eye contact because of the noodles, but you know it was an excuse to avoid your staring. What did you say? He owes you ramen and a new camera? Where should he get the money from? Are you being serious right now? The next time he met your gaze again, he noticed your blank expression plastered on your face.
"Let's make a deal..." you paused, "you'll be my muse and you don't need to pay me back."
"No."
"What?! You owe me a camera though? You know how expensive it was?" you pointed at your broken thing.
"It's not my fault. You latched yourself onto me. Besides that, I have no money and no home."
"Because I was saving your life!" you balled your hands into fists, ready to punch his handsome face before calming yourself down. "How about I give you a shelter, food and some clothes then? You can have the guest bed room."
"Why are you doing this all for me?"
"Dude, you have no home, no money and you tried to unalive yourself. Now I'm giving you the best offer that will ever happen." you bit your inner cheek, "are we having a deal or not?"
"...fine." he placed the cup down.
"Good. You're having a new start. You sure about this?" you looked at him.
"...yes."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"By the way what's a muse?"
"Did you live in the mountains?"
"Yes. How did you know?"
© 2024 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !
a/n's note — tempted to make more parts to be honest. SEONGJI MY LOVE, YOU DESERVED THE WORLD AND EVEN MORE.
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I love your writing! Could your write something where Law has to work with Luffy and Kid again and he’s pouting to his s/o about it. I just really like how he interacts with the two. There are no brain cells there. Maybe Luffy and Kid meets his s/o and they’re like “how did emotionally stunned Law manage to land this?”
PLEASE I showed mom where they're bickering and said "there are no braincells. Whatsoever"
[Heads up!: nothing, just them being idiots, reader is amused]
"This is getting annoying."
Crouching, you study the cluster of plants growing at the base of a tree, reaching out to drag a finger against one of the waxy green leaves, watching as it promptly folds and recoils. Interesting.
"The least they could do is be on time, I don't know why I expected them to be considerate." Law turns on his heel, frowning as he spots you with your back to him, engrossed in your examination of the island's plant life. "You could stop me from ranting, you know."
You glance over. "Where's the fun in that? It's cute to see you so worked up."
Law huffs, reaching to pull at his hat as he looks away. "It's not cute. It's annoying."
You watch him with a small smile, then blink as there's a call of, "Heey, Traffy! Where are you?"
"Finally," Law grumbles, and you straighten to follow him in the direction that you'd come from, dirt giving way to sand and the smell of ocean. "About time you showed up."
"Watch it," grunts Kid from nearby, distaste for both Luffy and Law clear on his face. "You're lucky I even decided to entertain this little meeting of yours."
It's clear that Law wants to say something just as scathing back, but you decide to step in, knowing nothing will get accomplished if you leave those three to their own devices.
"We wouldn't have asked you to meet us here if it wasn't important," you say, "and the less time you spend arguing amongst yourselves, the better chance we have for actually getting something done."
There are three sets of eyes on you before Luffy points at you. "Hey Traffy, who's this?"
"You've met before, idiot," Law snaps. "This is [name]." When Luffy still looks confused, Law heaves a sigh. "They're my..." He searches for an appropriate word. "Partner."
Luffy looks content to leave it at that, but the sly narrow of Kid's eyes says that he knows what Law means by that ㅡ and your boyfriend glares back. "If you're going to run your mouth, I suggest you don't."
Kid bristles, and you sigh, shaking your head as you retreat a couple feet and settle into the sand, rummaging in your bag for your notes. If they're going to insist on arguing like a bunch of children, at least you can be productive.
ㅡ
"I think that went rather well."
Law scoffs. "I'm not so sure. I went over the plan three times and I'm still not convinced Strawhat understood any of it."
You stifle a laugh at the almost sulky expression on Law's face. "Maybe so, but he's always done his own thing, you know that. And it usually works out, doesn't it?"
"Not without more hassle than necessary." He glances over at you and the leather bound book still in your hands. "I thought you came with me to play mediator."
"I did, but I know lost battle when I see one." Your tone is amused. "Besides, I told you. You're cute when you're worked up."
What follows is a rare sight, blush dusting across his cheeks and tinging the tips of his ears as he scowls and looks away. "Whatever. I'm not cute."
You step to his side, fingers intertwining with his as you lean to kiss his jaw, then his cheek. "Whatever you say, Law. Whatever you say."
#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader#one piece scenario#law x reader#trafalgar law x reader#anonymous#ㅡanswered.#–ml: law.
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hi! vash the stampede for the “put me down, i can walk” prompt? 🥹🙏
𝖕𝖚𝖙 𝖒𝖊 𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖓, 𝖎 𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖜𝖆𝖑𝖐! (vash the stampede)
pairing: vash the stampede x gn!reader
content: fluff, reader being carried, a little bit of bridal carry, vash being a bbg
a/n: i loved writing this! this prompt is so perfect for vash!! he’s so 💕💕💕 bbg frfr! i love that silly man sm 😭😭 might have to make him my pfp tbh 🙏🙏 also this is the first prompt i am posting for my followers event! <3
☁️ 1k follower event
The heat was unbearable. You should be used to it at this point but you doubted it was anything anyone ever could get used to.
You’ve been walking for what seemed like hours, dragging your feet through the sand as the sun was burning down on your head, slowly cooking your brain from the inside.
Vash, your companion, seemed unbothered by the heat for the most part, it only seemed to get to your head and body as your muscles started to feel heavy and your strength keeping you up and going slowly left you with every step.
This was exhausting. You were getting tired.
You felt awfully slow, the heat muddling with your thoughts and perception of time.
So it took you longer than you’d liked to admit to process what was happening. How your feet were suddenly dangling in the air, your view was upside down and your body was swaying steadily with every step Vash took…Vash!
You started to wriggle in the man’s grip. Because for some reason, one you’d hoped he’d explain soon, Vash had just taken it upon himself to throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Vash!” You cried out, some of your energy flooding back into your body in favour of letting you feel embarrassed.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you!” Vash promised sincerely as if he thought you were worried about him dropping you.
Which was not the issue!
You said his name again, lowering your voice into what was meant to sound like indignation but ended up sounding more like whining.
You started kicking your legs.
Vash swayed in his step, his cybernetic arm that was holding you by your waist on top of his shoulder tightening its grip.
“Please calm down, my dear, we’ll fall.”
“No, Vash! Let me down.”
“Oh?” The man slowed his step, voice dropping “Is my shoulder uncomfortable?”
The genuine concern in his voice made you want to hit your head against his back. That was not the issue!
“No…Yes…I don’t-“ You groaned, pushing your face into your hands “Put me down, I can walk!”
“You said you were tired,” Vash echoed back, sounding confused.
Oh…you hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
“I’ll carry you until you’ll feel better.” You could almost hear the soft smile in those words and could actually feel the gentle pat he gave your calf with his other arm.
Your leg kicked out on reflex and you heard Vash’s pitiful whine as your foot collided with his thigh.
“Don’t kick me,” he complained with a sniffle and you felt instantly bad, you might even have apologised if Vash would let you down already.
“Just put me down already.”
Vash came to a stop.
“I don’t want you to over-exhaust yourself,” he explained gently.
Your heart warmed at his words and you let out a sigh. It was annoying how stupidly charming and sincere Vash was. It made it hard to deny him anything. Thankfully your feelings of embarrassment won over your affection for the blond…at least for now.
“That’s…nice and all but…did you have to throw me over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes?”
“Oh!” Vash called out, sounding embarrassed himself now.
He quickly manoeuvred you around before you could realise what he was doing. You slid down his shoulders and into his open arms as he adjusted you until he was holding you in a bridal carry…
“That’s better then?”
You blinked up at the man’s face. He smiled down at you, eyes closed and head cocked to the side. The sun behind his head made it look like he was wearing a halo.
The heat in your cheeks couldn’t be blamed on the sun this time.
“Vash, just let me down please,” you whispered, afraid your voice would break.
He obliged this time, setting you down on both of your feet before taking a step back to give you some space.
When you turned to look at him, Vash stood with his head bowed down and his back curved, eyes lowered to the ground. He looked like a kicked puppy. Oh no.
“I’m sorry!” He apologised, bowing deeper and you could hear the sadness in his voice.
You rolled your eyes, a soft smile tugging at your lips. How were you so lucky to meet such a sweet guy as him? It was almost unfair.
You closed the distance between the two of you.
“Head,” you ordered gently.
Without questioning you, he lowered his head more to make it easier for you to reach up and pat his head, fingers softly ruffling through his strands.
“I’m not mad. Next time ask first.”
Vash lifted his head a little and glanced up at you through his glasses. When he saw your soft gaze his expression immediately brightened again.
“Everything you want!” He promised, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your cheek with a loud ‘mwuah’.
You bit your lip to hide the goofy grin that action brought to your face.
#tristamp#trigun stampede#vash x reader#vash x you#vash the stampede x you#vash the stampede x reader#trigun stampede x reader#trigun stampede x you#vash fluff#trigun stampede fluff#☁️ — maze’s 1k follower event
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How Did They Meet Their Genie! S/O?
Type of Writing: #10 - Poll Result Characters: Rollo Flamme and Baul Zigvolt Name: How Did They Meet Their Genie! S/O? Original Poll Link: Here
A/N: I have rarely, if ever, written for these characters, so they may end up being slightly OOC. Sadly, I had no ideas for Fellow Honest- the guy is hard to write something like this for without it being severely OOC. I also could come up with no ideas for Kifaji, since I couldn't find much information on him, I'm sorry for that. But, do hope you enjoy this my lil bubbles🫧
P.S: The Reader is inspired by a mixture of the original story Genie, Aladdin's Genie, the Live-Action Genie and Jafar's Genie form
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⛪ Rollo was not amused when he learned some students from Night Raven were arriving at Noble Bell College for the yearly festival. And he was far from happy when he gained knowledge that their two strongest students were coming as well
⛪ That being the Prince, and future heir to the thrown, of Briar Valley, Malleus Draconia, and one of the most powerful fae magicians in the world, one considered to be a genie, Y/N L/N
⛪ He stood alongside his secretary and right-hand as the group of magic-users approached, and he caught sight of the supposed genie flying around and messing with a spikey green-haired boy
⛪ Grabbing his handkerchief, he pushed the piece of purple cloth in front of his frowning face, making the two faes cock eyebrows at his actions
⛪ But, it seemed the Prince brushed it off faster than the other fae, as they kept a close eye on him throughout their small tour of the grounds. They also seemed to stay close to a black-haired boy, which he later learned was named Jamil Viper
⛪ Now, normally Rollo did not go out of his way for these magic-users whenever they came by at his school, but for some reason he felt drawn to you more than anything
⛪ He had began to actually speak to you before he realized it. He had asked you about your time at NRC and what your relationship was with the magicless human, despite your fairly obvious hostility to him
" Y/N, I am not quite sure I understand why you are so tense around Sir Flamme. Could you explain the reasoning behind it? "
⛪ Looking at Malleus, you sighed and played with a small blue figurine that you had been gifted by your guardians long ago, and you just handed him a red one as he looked at you with questioning eyes
" I have been told this story for many years, Mal. And it goes like this; Long ago, a young boy fell for a beautiful princess. But, due to their differences in rankings, they could not be together, and seeing the opportunity to gain some better status and power, her father's helper had seen complete red when the man began using a special power to seduce the princess. " " What was this power? " " A magic user. Back then, they were very rare. And very sought-out by men and women alike. Now, once he had gotten a hold of the magic-user, he had begun to trick the princess that he was a prince, in order to win her heart. "
⛪ Rollo stood behind the pillar, wondering on what in Twisted Wonderland you were speaking about? Was this some story from the Scaling Sands that he had not read about?
" What did the King's helper do about the swindler's treachery? " " The only thing he knew how to do; report it once found out. And, once he notified the Sultan, the man was found and handed about, though nobody knows for certain what happened to him. Most likely death. But, for his accomplishment in saving the princess, he was granted a magical lamp, and he used the powers to become Sultan. " " How impressive. Are these figures them? " " They're a form of the story. In there, the Sultan's helper was the enemy and had thrown the princess and Sultan into servitude like he was stuck in. And this blue one that I am holding was the 'good genie' who had been helping the swindler out. "
⛪ Gripping his handkerchief tighter inside his pocket, Rollo began to stroll away, not sparing any thought of you and the Prince of Briar Valley being outside past hours in the field speaking of nonsense
⛪ Once he reached his room, Rollo slammed the door shut as softly as he possibly could before looking around his room in a frenzy. Why did he want to pull that Dragon Fae away from you and escourt you to your room at that moment?
⛪ No matter, he needed to focus on his plan. And nothing, not even someone like you, would be able to change his mind...
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🐊 Ever since the war began, there have been many fae and humans alike falling to their shared enemy. Unfortunately, as of late, the humans have been gaining the upper-hand
🐊 This action was leading the Draconia family to improvise by sending in some fae from outside of Briar Valley, and there was a new group of them being added this week
🐊 And these fae were all from the Scaling Sands, a land inhabited by humans, though they chose no side during the war, due to being farther away and thriving on their own without any greed of land catching their minds
🐊 You had dressed in your get-go, that being a dragon's, and set your sights on collaborating your battalion's style of fighting with General Lilia's
🐊 Baul wasn't able to take a simple rest when he heard that you were going to be alone with their leader
🐊 He wanted to trust you, really he did, but you lived somewhere full of humans, you may end up betraying them if you caught sight of someone that you possibly knew
🐊 So, grabbing his mask and uniform, he slapped it on quickly before heading out and hiding behind a tree, concealing his presence from both you and Lilia
🐊 Once he reached where you both resided, he watched with a stink-eye similar to that of a sniper trying to take down one of the most dangerous people in history with one bullet left
" Commander Y/N, if I may ask, how have you lived alongside those humans, those mortals, for so long without an issue? " " It's quite simple, General Vanrouge. I have had many connections to the higher-ups in their society. One being a being from a long time ago, maybe hundreds of years? Huh, my memory of time seemingly has gone down, I apologize. "
🐊 Speaking so formally yet freely was something that Baul had never heard about happening with the General of the Fae army before, how remarkable
🐊 Wait- what was he thinking?! You were a possible enemy! He has to stay focused!
" Do you perhaps remember this being by any chance? " " Ah yes I do. Quite well, actually. I may not remember just how long ago it has been, but I do remember the man with precision. " " Would you mind telling me about this mystery man? " " Of course not. "
🐊 Taking a breath, Baul watched as your hand sputtered out some blue flickers, which forms into smokes and into small figures, one being teal, another being white, then red, blue, orange, purple, and a final resting light tan
" This one, is a woman, a princess from hundreds of years ago. And the small white one was her father, the Sultana and the Sultan. This blue character is a magic-user from way-back-when, our light tan in a swindler, and our red is our main character of this beloved legend and story mashup. Now, the young swindler had come across this magic-user, and he asked if they could put themselves to good use and help him try to sway the princess into a relationship. And, due to magic being a more rarity back then, nobody had suspected anything tricky taking place. Until the red one here, a man now known as the Sorcerer of the Sands, found out about the plot. "
🐊 Sitting up slightly as his shoulders sank down in a relaxed position, Baul found himself listening to the story with just as much attention as he gave to glaring at you from behind
" The Sorcerer of the Sands had eventually gotten enough information and turned the swindler in, leading in the arrest of the young man and eventual fate, one in which nobody knows, though, many believe he was executed for the crime of seducing the princess and plotting both overthrowing the Sultan, basically usurping the thrown, and treason. Now, while the swindler got punished for his actions, the respected-Sorcerer had stood proudly against the Sultan and was granted the object known as a 'magic lamp'. With this lamp, he made the wish to become Sultan. Now, while this story's final ending is shrouded in mystery, some suspect that the swindler broke out and stopped the Vizier from attempting to kill the royal family, while in some the Vizier married the princess and lived happily ever after, and in some others the Vizier had just ruled the land and kept it balanced until his death years later. "
🐊 Baul listened as Lilia sighed deeply, seemingly releasing some stress at hearing the story end fairly happily for the seemingly good-natured Vizier and the ill-intentioned swindler
🐊 Lilia turned to you and patted you on the shoulder as he stood up, shocking one of his right-hands with his words
" You are a good person, Y/N. I expect good things from you, yes? " " You shouldn't expect any less than that, General. " " Have a nice rest, Commander. Good night. " " I wish you the same, sir! "
🐊 Okay, you didn't seem so bad now. But just because you got Lilia to somewhat show trust in you, a Zigvolt is far harder to please, well, that's what he now tells your grand-children, but you get the point
#Twisted Wonderland#Twst#TWST Side Characters#Twisted Wonderland x Reader#Twst x Reader#TWST Side Characters x Reader#S/O! Reader#GN! Reader#Fae! Reader#Rollo Flamme#Rollo Flamme x Reader#Baul Zigvolt#Baul Zigvolt x Reader
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