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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year ago

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"Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall, Who's the Fairest of Them All?"

This set of headcanons was the most difficult for me to write for of the 7 dorms. I think it’s because I don’t immediately associate Pomefiore with any group activities, unlike most of the others.

Note: Rollo does not canonically dislike apples, I just decided to run with it to go along with the whole joke of him being Catholic... and how apples are representative of "the first sin" in much of pop culture.

A Big Pomefiore Welcome to Rollo!

Four dormitory visits in, and Rollo's dreading the next. He expects it to be every bit as exhausting as the first four were, whether physically or mentally. But no, he won't let his spirit be broken, won't let these NRC students under his skin!! Rollo trudges onward.

Pomefiore boasts a pleasant atmosphere right as he enters their realm. It is filled with soft birdsong and lush greenery, sunshine coming down upon his face. He shields his eyes and squints at the rustic castle towering ahead. it's grand, imposing, and filled with rich history. So far, so good.

At this point, Rollo expects someone to jump out of the bushes to annoy him, but the entire walk to the entrance is uneventful. Something is very wrong here, he thinks, slowly rapping on the doors. Does a jump scare await him beyond it? Rollo braces himself when the doors creak open and push out.

“Bienvenu, Roi du Mouchoir!!” an irritatingly familiar voice calls out to him. Rook rushes at Rollo at a frightening speed, nearly crushing the man's bones in a hug he's too slow to avoid. An arm coiling around him like a snake, a hand on the small of his back, Rook happily welcomes Rollo inside.

The huntsman talks. Incessantly. He talks about how happy he is to be reunited with him, he talks about the beautiful weather, he talks about the wonderful reception Pomefiore has painstakingly planned to welcome his arrival. He just about never stops talking, never wipes that big, dumb smile off of his face. It’s plainly unsettling.

Rollo utters a sharp “Tais-toi!”, which finally silences Rook (but only for about all of 5 seconds). His eyes crease, and something about his expression reminds Rollo of a hungry fox. “Ah, I see that your fiery fervor has yet to dim. Harboring such unyielding ideals… Fufufu, that tenacious spirit of yours makes you a wonderful fit in the realm of the Beautiful Queen.”

“Tch. You keep speaking in that overly familiar tone of voice,” Rollo snips as he and Rook come to a new set of doors, “acting as though we’re on amicable terms, ushering me into your fold. Make no mistake, I do NOT plan on becoming intimate with…”

The doors open into an opulent lounge decorated for a fancy reception. Streamers are suspended from the ceiling, confetti dusting open seats, vases of flowers topping ever counter, petals spilling in a luxurious waterfall from one table. Sitting upon elegant purple cloths are plates of hors d'oeuvres and flutes with sparkling liquids.

Students in robes with billowing sleeves are scattered around a throne where a beautiful man sits. Nervously standing at the seated queen’s side is a shorter boy with fluffy lilac hair and large eyes. Their gazes momentarily meet, and there’s a flicker of recognition in both of them. It’s Epel Felmier from the masquerade.

Rook approaches, sweeping his feathered hat off and bowing. “Je suis revenu.” There’s a nod from the beautiful man—the dorm’s ruler, Rollo believes—as he raises a hand to the onlookers. “Thank you for escorting our guest to the venue, Rook. Now then, let the festivities begin.” The Pomefiore students clap politely for him as soft orchestral music begins to play, as if by magic.

“Well then, my friend—” (“We are NOT friends,” Rollo sharply corrects Rook.) “—please enjoy yourself! As sorrowful as it is to part ways, cruel Fate dictates it must be so. Worry not, our paths will surely cross again! Until then, I leave you with this token to remember me by.” Rook produces a rose from his sleeve and slips it into Rollo’s hat, then prances off to his dorm leader.

Rollo removed the the rose crushes it in his palm like a stress ball. He lets the crumpled flower fall to his feet, mingling with the petals already on the polished floor.

“Erm, Rook-senpai… Is it okay to really let him walk around the party without supervision?” Epel asks as his upperclassman draws near. “Won’t he… um, you know??” (To this, Rook chuckles. “Non, we needn’t worry. Acting so boldly in broad daylight is not to his style.“)

Rollo tries to minimize his presence, finding some quiet corner to stand in until the reception ends. Unfortunately for him, Pomefiore students keep walking up to chat. He’s on edge, expecting them to be combative or nosy—but no, he finds that they’re a more insidious kind of evil… the underhanded, subtler sort.

Many of the mob students compliment his outfit. However just as many of them raise their eyebrows when they see him up close. They coo about how Rollo’s complexion looks so haggard and how he has such dark circles under his eyes. (A few of them also remark that his haircut is “a choice”.)

Some mob students start giving him (uncalled for) beauty tips and product recommendations. Retinol creams, vitamin C serums, sleeping masks—all manner of lotions and potions to supposedly “fix” his dark circles and sickly look.

Rollo takes their words as gracefully as he can, but inside his annoyance steadily accumulates. (How shallow and frivolous their interests are!! And how dare they try to impose their vain standards onto him?!)

The conversation soon takes a turn into history, a subject which he finds much more enjoyable. He hears of the Beautiful Queen and passes on stories of the Righteous Judge—equal parts give and take.

Rollo learns that their dorm leader, Vil, is skilled in the laboratory. Potions, poisons… he can brew them all. “He even tends to our plants and harvests them to create his own cosmetics,” a mob student excitedly tells Rollo. “That’s our Vil-sama!”

“What a coincidence. I, too, partake in gardening as a hobby.” Rollo chooses his words very carefully, but still a smirk finds its way onto his face. He can’t help but sneer a little at these hapless fools (who misinterpret the look as an awkward attempt at a smile). “Fufufu, yes… I do so love flowers of a crimson color in particular. Lotuses have a charm to them as well. The red ones are reminiscent of fire.”

Every time Rollo has to take an aside to cover his (frequent) grimaces with his handkerchief, the Pomefiore mobs remark on how thoughtful and graceful it is for him to do such a thing. They start talking about how they, too, should invest in their own handkerchiefs—what colors and designs should they consider? “… Any will do,” Rollo grumbles.

When he thinks about it, a lot of the Pomefiore mobs’ admiration for Vil reminds him of his own peers back at NBC. They stare at him with sparkling eyes full of adoration, praising him for every achievement, falling over themselves to be at his beck and call. Hmph, how foolish.

A feeling of unease never fully leaves Rollo as he converses with others. He feels as though he’s still being watched by Rook—yet when he glances over to check on the huntsman, he seems preoccupied whispering into Vil’s ear or laughing a something Epel said. As soon as Rollo looks away, that eerie sensation returns.

When the mob students finally retreat into their own smaller circles and cliques, Rollo decides to have a light snack to regain all that energy he just expended entertaining nosy idiots. He’s pleased to find foods that remind him of home: charcuterie boards, cheeses, grapes, breads—

An awkward cough sounds from behind him. “W-Would you like some juice, sir?” It’s Epel, shyly offering a glass to him. (From a distance, Rook nods encouragingly and gives him two thumbs up. Vil sighs, swirling around liquid in a goblet of his own.)

“You were sent personally,” Rollo remarks. (Epel was; Vil had prodded him to go so he could observe how he handled himself in a strained social situation.) “Why?” (“You um… seemed thirsty?”)

“It’s not poisoned, is it?” Rollo asks suspiciously, cautiously accepting the glass. (“N-Nossir! It ain’t! I swear it on mah life!!” Epel insists.) He peers inside and finds golden juice. “This must be apple. Do you have an alternative? Perhaps grape.”

“E-Eh?” Epel seems surprised (and mildly offended) by the request. “You prefer grapes to apples?” ("I do. Apples may keep for a long time relative to other fruits, but I find the texture of them to be quite mealy and difficult to get down.")

"Mealy?!" Epel's outburst draws the attention of everyone in the room (including Vil, who does not look pleased). The first year mutters an apology before returning to Rollo. "I'm sure there's some kind of apple you must like...? There's many new breeds out now because of advances in MMOs."

"Magically modified organisms?" Rollo sneers at the idea. "What makes you think I would want to ingest produce that has been touched by magic? The concept itself is abhorrent. Apples were simply meant to be the lesser fruit."

"LESSER FRUIT?!" Epel's even louder (and more appalled) this time. “You oughta take that back ‘fore I…!” Vil frowns and rises from his throne. Epel pales and instantly shuts up as his dorm leader sashays toward them.

"My, I do hope our Epel isn't imposing on you," Vil drawls, glaring at the first year. Epel's prepared to be chewed out--but miraculously, he's spared with the wave of Vil's hand. (He scrambles off with Rook, leaving Rollo to Vil.) "As you can plainly see, there’s still much work to be done in terms of his manners and temperament. Some potatoes take more time and effort to whip into shape than others, I'm afraid."

“Of course. I completely understand.” Rollo’s reply is terse and stiff as he regards Vil—a famous face he recalls seeing in various works, posted about almost religiously online. An idol for the masses, is his immediate thought, flaunting about like a primping peacock. Pushing products and an excessive lifestyle for others to ogle and covet. Encouraging sin.

Epel gives Rollo a dirty look when he’s sure Vil isn’t looking. “No way can anyone hate apples and be a good person!! His heart is pure black, Rook-senpai!!" Epel clutches onto the robes of his upperclassman. "He definitely still can’t be trusted!!”

“I don't believe I've had the chance to formally introduce myself." Vil slowly swirls around the carbonated apple juice in his own goblet. "Vil Schoenheit—a pleasure. I’ve heard so many stories about you.” None of them good, Rollo suspects.

With a glance around the room, Vil sighs. He gestures to the garden that awaits beyond a window. “It’s getting to be a bit stuffy in here. Would you care to take this outside?”

Rollo seizes the opportunity to escape from the suffocating space and prying eyes. He enters the night, finding comfort in the darkness and silence. For a moment, he almost forgets that Vil is with him—until he hears the distinctive clacking of a sharp nail against glass.

“I hope Pomefiore’s hospitality has met your standards,” Vil says nonchalantly. “Rook tells me you’re very particular.” And truthfully? Rollo confesses to him that it’s been the least abrasive of the dorms he has visited thus far. Vil makes a face. “… I had my expectations set low for some of the others, but I can’t fathom what horrors you’ve experienced at the their hands.“

“You have some sense in you.” What a shame it is that you are a mage. Rollo doesn’t speak his true thoughts out loud, but Vil seems to sense the animosity radiating off of him.

He gives a snooty laugh. “You must think little of me. As an A-list actor, I can see easily through your facade. Let’s drop the pretenses, hmm? I’d like to speak with the real Rollo Flamme.” At the invitation, Rollo scowls. Vil smirks right back. “That’s more like it.”

“… What is it that you want? There must be a reason why you’ve gone out of your way to isolate us from the rest of them.”

“A queen can be curious,” Vil explains in a dismissive manner. He sweeps a golden lock behind one ear, treating the scene no different from another set. The moonlight on him as he delivers a soliloquy. “… It goes without saying that I do not approve of your methods. However, there is something to be said of your doggedness. That, at least, deserved to be lauded.”

“You’re congratulating me.” Rollo says it as a statement of disbelief.

“In a way, yes.” Vil’s laugh is low and cruel. “The more you want something, the harder is it to obtain. It’s never quite so simple. You’re promised the world as a child, and then you grow up and realize the world doesn’t owe you a happy ending no matter how hard you bite and hiss and claw for it. I know of that frustration well myself.”

Vil wants the truth? He’ll get the truth. Rollo lets the vitriol slip into his voice, turning it pointed and poisonous. “I’m appalled that you would even imply that we are similar. Do not compare me with the likes of you…!”

“Am I wrong? Please, enlighten me.” There’s a newfound satisfaction in Vil’s expression. He knows he has not won, but that he has gotten under Rollo’s skin. “It’s difficult to put on a smile and act as though all is well, isn’t it? That’s the burden we bear. The roles we are expected to play.” Vil smiles a bit. “Perhaps in another life, I would have welcomed you as a student of my dormitory.”

“If a second life exists, I would want a life of normalcy—not to be jailed in your gilded cage of a castle,” Rollo spits out. “I would wish to be free of this burning curse. I would have him back.” I could be happy again in that fairer world.

Vil nods and solemnly lifts his glass. “… To your wish upon a star—and your efforts to realize it.” Rollo finds himself mimicking the motion, compelled by a feeling he doesn’t recognize. Is it a pledge to never give up, even if the world is against him? Is it a part of him acknowledging Vil’s harsh truth? He doesn’t know.

They toast and raise the cups to their lips. Somehow, the apple juice tastes bittersweet on both of their tongues.

With that, Vil turns away. Heels clicking rhythmically, he follows the warm lights spilling out from Pomefiore back inside. He will return to the reception, mingle with his subjects. Maybe scold Epel as he had initially intended to, or tell Rook off for coming onto their guest too strongly.

Rollo is alone in the night.

… Or so he thinks, until a hand comes upon his shoulder.

“Roi du Mouchoir,” Rook says softly, emerging from the shadows as though he were born among them, “Let us make haste back to the reception. You’re the guest of honor—it wouldn’t do to have you running off on us! Ah, but if you do… I would be more than happy to chase you down to the ends of Twisted Wonderland to retrieve you.”

“Wha…?! Where did you come from?!” Rollo jerks away from him with a yelp, which doesn’t seem to bother Rook at all. He keeps smiling that crude, large smile of his and claps. “Très bien, you’re still brimming with vitality for the rest of the evening! Come now, let us return!”

His patience snaps.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep far away from me!!”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #Vil Schoenheit #Epel Felmier #Pomefiore #Rook Hunt #Rollo Flamme #disney twisted wonderland #Rollo at the Writing Desk

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chickenparm · 1 year ago

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live reaction (wriothesley/f!Reader) pt. 2/end

this is a continuation of this fic(livestream), though it's not necessary to really read that one. please be mindful that the reader does have gendered parts in this one in comparison to the previous entry.

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AO3 Link

Prev Part

Wriothesley/f!Reader

3,279 Words - NSFW

(voyeurism, mild pining, dirty talk, somnophilia, m!masturbation, f!receiving oral, vaginal sex)

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Gripping the busted camera in his hands, Wriothesley stands in his office and stares somewhere into the middle-distance. His gut churns in an odd mixture that takes a moment for him to analyze. Only when it’s begun to settle and the sediment is separated from the supernatant does he realize that the anger and embarrassment had been suspended in a kind of thick, syrupy excitement.

With a clatter, it hits the floor, and his hand braces against his desk as he wraps the other around his cock with almost bruising tightness. Someone had been watching for god knows how long. Watching him, probably even enjoying the sight of the Duke slouched in his chair, working off some of the stress that builds when he least expects it.

And his thoughts that had been aimless and half-assed just to get him through were now pinpoint focused on the image of a formless figure hunched over a camera terminal, watching enraptured. It had been a female voice through the speakers - at least he’s pretty sure, though he wouldn’t care either way - and he wonders if the sight of him nearly coming apart had been enough to make them grow wet with their own desire.

It’s enough to have him doubled-over, his efforts paying off with the audible wet sound of his cum hitting the top of his desk, palm slick with what’s been smeared around. And in the moments after - when he does his best thinking - Wriothesley comes up with a plan of action.

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Faintly, somewhere in the distance, you hear the sound of a bell ringing incessantly. You try to count them, but lose interest quickly in favor of rolling over onto your stomach and burying your head in the few pillows you have, blankets kicked off without a care. Sleep seems like a better idea, you’re so exhausted. Losing out on a few coupons is fine.

Unconsciousness claws at you, dragging you back into your dreams as you settle. Deep breath in, breathe out, you’re almost there until your body jolts in a hypnic jerk and that makes you grumble and only try even harder. With great success, you completely disregard any need to be awake and out of bed.

It’s while you’re in the midst of a dream about something fanciful or other that your door opens rather carelessly, groaning in protest as the quickness of entry. And then it stops, a hand curled around the edge to keep it from opening any further than would allow entry to the single newcomer. Quietly, beneath their breath, a little “shit” before the door shuts fast.

And you don’t even stir, so adamant you are to skip the day.

Wriothesley leans against the door, locking it and staring openly at your figure in the dim room. You truly hadn’t roused at all after your quick slip into slumber last night - you’re not even wearing pants, and you’ve left yourself all but displayed for him to see upon entry.

This had to be on purpose, right? Wriothesley distinctly remembers telling you that he’d swing by to remove the camera while you were working, so why are you here? Wriothesley’s lungs deflate with a long exhale through his nose as his eyes truly adjust to the darkness and he can see more than he’d initially witnessed.

You’re not just curled in bed demurely, snuggled up in your blankets. No, you’re sprawled on your stomach, one leg hiked up, all but beckoning him to see your cunt in the high definition his little camera hadn’t afforded him last night.

In his mind, the first thought is to just leave. That’s likely the first thought that went through yours when you’d been snooping on him. And just like you, he freezes and takes another breath, going against all his better judgment to move closer, not away. Had you been this enraptured?

The part of him that maintains the smallest amount of stifled ego says yes, that you hadn’t been able to tear your eyes away from him as he’d touched himself during a moment of privacy. Just like he can’t stop taking steps forward - only two, the room is so small - and pressing one knee into the thin mattress to hold his weight.

An arm’s length away, Wriothesley could reach out and touch. Really get a handful of what he’d been thinking about for a little longer than he’d expected. The object of his dreams last night and the reason for his uncomfortable erection this morning - one that hadn’t quite died down even after handling himself to the thought of you again.

Just a touch, he promises himself. Enough to fuel a few of the less savory thoughts he’s been having, and then he’ll leave. Only a swipe of his fingers to slick them with your cunt and he’ll disappear in his office once more, drawing lungfuls of the scent as he tries in vain to work through his frustration again.

And the camera will still be here, so maybe…

Wriothesley smooths a palm up the back of your thigh, thumb pressing into the muscle as he goes, divoting the skin and enjoying the give of you. So kindly you’ve left yourself open, comfortable in your sleep if not entirely indecent. Both hands reach out, cupping at your ass and squeezing both cheeks together before pulling them apart, growing a bit greedy with what he’d like to see - everything.

Your asshole - off-limits for now, he won’t take too many liberties - and the folds of your pussy, just the slightest bit wet. Anticipation laces his shaking exhale as he leans closer, eyes darting up to ensure you’re still sleeping before he uses his thumbs to pry apart your labia and really see what he’s been dreaming about.

Last night, he’d been given a glimpse. The quality of the camera wasn’t the best, but god, could his mind fill in the blanks. How sweet it is to be able to spread you open and see that you’re just as pretty as he imagined you’d be. Glazed-over eyes rake over the sight of your cunt, his thumbs pressing a bit too hard as he imagines what you’d have looked like if he did come down here last night.

If you’d fallen asleep just the same, would his spend still be here, leaving you sticky enough that pulling you apart in this way fills his ears with the smearing of his cum?

Wriothesley doesn’t realize he’s leaned in until his nose brushes against you, and he stops with a bated breath. Just a touch, he’d promised, but maybe a taste wouldn’t hurt? Just enough to have you blooming across his tongue, then he’ll be satisfied and leave you alone.

The taste, he thinks, is not enough.

Flattening his tongue, he presses it against your hole and pushes, as if that would squeeze arousal from you that he hasn’t earned just yet. Looking up at you, along the length of your body, his fingers dig in and what becomes just a taste devolves into nothing more than greedy devouring of your pussy.

The fluttering of your walls around his tongue is addicting, squeezing and pulling as if you want more and more. And if you’re going to ask him so nicely, he’ll gladly oblige. You’d put on such a nice show last night, truly more than he’d been hoping for, so the very least he could do is keep going until you tell him to stop.

From above, your quiet little puffs of breath and sharp inhales spur Wriothesley on. Like little pleas for him to keep going, Wriothesley drags his tongue down, rolling it across your clit in quick passes until it’s swollen and slick. Your hips tilt back toward him, chasing his mouth every time he rears back to take a breath, as if he needs to dive into you.

Letting go with one hand, he slips it down his front and undoes his pants with easy quickness, barely paying attention to the way he falls free until the tip presses against the skin of your calf. Rather than take himself in hand, he uses his fingers over top of his cock to press himself to your leg, dragging for friction that matches the glide of his tongue through your pussy.

From the back of his throat, strangled and breathless, he moans against your cunt, and you whine in return at the vibration. Back and forth, smearing his pre-cum against your leg with little care, he grinds himself against you and lets his eyes drift shut. Just a little more and he’ll be satiated. Then he’ll make it up later when you inevitably ask why the camera is still there and your cunt is licked clean.

Maybe even raw, if he can’t get a handle on himself sooner rather than later.

Carefully, he chases his own pleasure while giving you yours, avoiding making the bed groan in protest any louder than it has to. Each roll of his hips smears his fingers with his arousal, beading up at the webbing and pooling against your skin until each movement is effortless, no matter how tightly he holds. Wriothesley’s scalp tingles at the feeling of fingers scraping along it, twisting into his hair and pulling his face ever closer.

And then his eyes shoot open, mouth pressed suction-tight against your cunt as you look over your shoulder at him with a sleepy grin.

“Odd choice of breakfast, Your Grace.”

And he can’t very well answer with his mouth full. But you don’t allow him that sort of reprieve, not like he really needs it. The only viable answer is the one he’s already been giving. Wriothesley’s tongue pushes into you again, aching with the strain of trying to taste you as deep as possible. Your moan curls with appreciation, and from the corner of his eye he watches your toes curl, matching the cut of his own hidden grin.

Wriothesley is sure he must look like a sight. Hair mussed, cheeks ruddy, eyes half-lidded and punch drunk on something he hadn’t expected to partake in. But the look in your eyes that reflects back at him is undeniably adoring, filled with that same unmistakable hunger that got the two of you mixed up in all of this in the first place.

Stronger than your grip, he pulls his head back with a wet inhale, chin coated in a shimmering mixture of his own spit and your coaxed arousal. A flash of disappointment crosses your gaze, easily rectified by his hand squeezing hard enough against your ass to bulge the flesh between his fingers, nails leaving crescents against your skin.

“Rise and shine,” his voice is ragged, thick with pleasure and spittle. Eyes darting down, he watches in undisguised wonder as you visibly clench around nothing. “Just my voice, huh? Barely even said anything.”

“Could probably cum just from your voice.”

“Yeah? Wanna try?”

As much as Wriothesley would love to barricade the door and spend the next few business days spouting whatever nonsense he can think of to watch your pretty little holes flutter, he agrees with your immediate petulance, your lower lip jutting out just so. The effect is as intended whether you expected it or not and he crawls the rest of the way on the bed, uncaring of his boots against your bedding.

Fuck it, he’ll show some preferential treatment and get you something nicer to sleep on.

Releasing his cock, he uses his sticky hand to press at your lower back, keeping you pinned, while his other grabs at your hitched knee to straighten out your leg. Swinging his knee over, you find yourself locked in rather nicely with the heft of his cock tucked neatly against the seam of your ass.

A breathless little sound of giddiness leaves you as he shifts you around effortlessly, your legs kicking a bit at the knee as if to test the give that isn’t there. “Does it have to be this way? I wanna watch, Your Grace.”

“Yeah, you like watching, huh?” Wriothesley can’t keep the amusement from his voice, even if his words hold truth. “Not this time.”

Your mouth opens, likely in a rebuttal of some sort that he’d love to hear under normal circumstances, but he’d like it much better if any sounds you made from here on out were completely incoherent. So, without any warning, as your voice crafts the first syllable, he rolls back just enough for the thick head of his cock to catch on your entrance.

And it sounds much sweeter than anything you were going to say. So much, in fact, that he can’t keep up the pretense of delayed gratification any longer and pushes forward into you. Inch after inch with little room in between for you to breathe, Wriothesley stretches your pussy out until you’re taut and straining to accept him.

And still you take more, until his hips dig into your ass and your thighs tremble beneath him. A surprising lack of volume is attributed to your little mewls of pleasure. Gaze darting up from the lewd image of your body struggling to accommodate him, Wriothesley hums in disapproval as he realizes you’ve buried your face in the scant pillows that you have, the fabric of one clenched between your teeth.

“C’mon, none of that now,” he slides a hand up your spine, hooks it around your shoulder, pulls until you’re arched unnaturally. Wriothesley only lets you go when your elbows plant into the bed, keeping your face well away from the bedding. “You sounded pretty good over the speakers, but man… I really want to hear what you sound like when you cum on my cock.”

And then he leans down, pressing deeper, mouth against your ear, “Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”

The squeeze of your cunt around him is exquisite, enough to draw a choked little laugh out of him. “Gonna take that as a yes. So keep your face out of the sheets, alright?” And for a moment, you don’t answer, your lip drawn between your teeth as your eyes clench shut in quiet ecstasy. That won’t do either, and he blows out a sigh as he rocks forward a little. “Or if you really want to be quiet, then I’ll just shove your face in them.”

The forward rut of his cock makes you whine meekly, mouth falling open to facilitate the sounds that will surely follow, and he’s satisfied enough with that answer that he turns his head to press a kiss to the skin beneath your ear where it’s softest. “Still good for me, I like that.”

And when you whimper on his withdrawal, cunt clinging to him like your very insides don’t want to let him go, well… Wriothesley likes that, too.

His first thrust is slow and steady, pushing apart every little inch inside you to accommodate his cock before pulling it away just as lazily. Any quicker and it’s not going to last as long as he wants, though it’s not like this was anything like what he expected. Everything had snowballed from the moment he stepped in here, the moment he installed that camera, the moment you’d looked in on him in his office.

There’s no point stopping it, but he can at least slow it down, and he doesn’t relent when you start to wiggle beneath him, trying in vain to push your hips up and back to make him go faster. A sharp hiss leaves you, the knee pads of his boots digging into your hips when you shift too much, and it’s as good a deterrent as any to keep you still and pliant beneath him.

“Appreciate you being so accommodating, by the way.” Wriothesley doesn’t miss the way his voice doesn’t hold the same steady quality as usual, instead coming out between little pants of breath as he gleans just as much pleasure as you do. “Was gonna be a man of my word and get the camera out, but then you just had to go and invite me in, huh?”

Not quite how it happened, but he can see the little twist of a smile on your lips between open-mouthed moans, your fingers gripping at those pathetic pillows. Snapping your jaw shut, you hiss through your teeth as he shifts his angle to sit upright once more, looming over you from on high. An apology sits on the tip of his tongue, stifled once he realizes it was a sudden sound of pleasure, not pain.

So Wriothesley rocks back, then forward, leaving you empty before filling all those spaces with himself again. And the stifled wail you give him in return is just what he’d been hoping for. He just knew you were a loud one. And if not, then he surely planned on making you that way.

It’s cold enough in the Fortress that each wet thrust of his cock into you feels like a bed of embers, your cunt starting to accept him with more and more ease. Each pass all but bullies you open until he can finally set a pace that he’s been dying for, one that leaves your body rocking beneath him, your fingers scrambling for more purchase than a few thin pillows can give you.

Wriothesley can help with that, he thinks, and falls prey to his own intrusive thoughts by snatching up your elbows, fingers locked tight around them to keep you from being fucked away from him. They’re the perfect leverage to arch your back, your hips tilting with the movement and his cock pressing into the wall of your cunt just right.

Incoherence is what he wanted, and the sounds that tumble from your lips unfiltered are exactly that. Half-finished syllables, whines, cries for him to keep going, just like that. Each plea from you brings him closer, coupled with the sudden sensation of you clamping down viciously tight, as if you mean to break him.

He’s not sure that you stop cumming, his movements precise but losing their rhythm as he falters in the face of his own release. Each wet, squelching movement drags him further along, sucking him in and demanding he stay there to keep you full. So he does, rather comfortably in fact. Only a few more thrusts until he’s cumming, each throb of his cock is met with an almost-pitiful moan from you.

It’d be easier if he’d had a little more foresight to undress rather than just get his cock out, but you don’t seem too keen on complaining when he gathers you to his chest and settles on his side, his length still stuffed neatly inside you. Warmest place in Meropide, he’s certain.

Slowly, your breathing comes down from its hurried pace, dipping so low that Wriothesley wonders if you’ve nodded off on him again. With a little extra indulgence, his fingertips run up and down the length of your arm, his other tucked beneath your head as a pillow. Meropide continues clanging on in the distance beyond the door, feeling a little more far away than usual.

A little too long for his liking, you finally pipe up. “Didn’t mean to sleep in.”

And that answers that question, he thinks. It wasn’t on purpose, but he’s glad you were feeling a little lazy, nonetheless. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t come in here intending on any of this, either. Guess we’re both causing lots of little accidents, huh?”

Your face turns to bury in his arm, and his laugh bubbles up and out of him at a speed that surprises even himself. Squeezing at your hip, he grabs your attention. “I really did intend on just getting the camera and giving you some space. To be honest, I wasn’t really sure if you wanted to go any further.”

“And then you decided to gamble on eating me out?”

“Would it make you feel better if I told you what I’d really planned on doing when I saw you laying here half-naked?” Wriothesley’s hand slides up your stomach, between your breasts, all the way to grip your chin and direct you to look at him from over your shoulder. “I planned on soaking my fingers in you before retreating to my office.”

“Hoping I’d catch you again?” Your voice is breathless - teasing, but lacking as much weight as it should. “You busted the camera, I’m sure.”

“Could always reinstall another one. With a nice private terminal, just for you.” You flutter around him, his breath hitches with barely-concealed excitement. “Oh, you like that idea? Being able to just drop in and watch me working?”

The plush of your lower lip catches between your teeth, and Wriothesley dips forward to coax it back out with a swift kiss, one that briefly smothers you before he pulls away.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

#mind the a/n for content tags #wriothesley #genshin impact #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley/reader #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #f!reader #afab!reader #mdni #nsft

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ryoko-akari · 7 months ago

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Curtwen Thoughts are plaguing me nonstop, specifically something silly about vocabulary differences they might have from being on two different sides of the pond. So here's a compilation of silly quotes I came up with inspired by conversations I've had as an American with my Scottish pals.

"Pass me the torch love"

"The what, Owen we're not in a cave!"

"Im well aware, but it's dark so pass the torch"

"What the hell is a torch?!"

"The metal thing in your hand!"

"You could just say flashlight!"

"No I wouldn't because that is clearly a torch!"

"You Americans driving on the wrong side of the road"

"No we drive on the right side, you Brits screwed it up"

"The rest of the world disagrees with you"

"Well the rest of the world is objectively wrong!"

"Looks like it'll be 15 degrees Celcius when we arrive tomorrow"

"Wanna run that by me again in freedom units?"

"This'll be over the top so don't forget your braces love"

"My what?"

"Your braces?"

"Owe, it's an uber fancy ballroom dance, the only thing I can think of for braces are pads and I don't plan on getting in a fight tonight"

"Braces Curt! You know, to keep your trousers up!"

"ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY SUSPENDERS-"

#spies are forever #SaF #agent curt mega #owen carvour #incorrect quotes #tin can bros #i dont know how tags work

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bluravenite · 2 years ago

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zephyr with a back brace disguised as a corset, but everyone knows it’s just a super fashionable and elegant back brace, and no one thinks it’s an actual corset.

omega and ifrit love lacing it up. :>

Hehehe i enjoy that you have told me this because i am a little fashion history nerd and historically men did wear corsets :3!!

DISCLAIMER: (historically) corsets we're not generally tight laced and mist depictions of really tiny waists are both artist style choices as well as picture editing!! There's a lot more in depth discussion of this on YouTube !!

I really enjoy looking at pictures of corsets and other undergarments from the met museum collection, these were usually quite small which is likely why they weren't used at all!! But if you look many of the corsets have a very specific shape that hugs the lower back and supports the bust!! People didn't have wired bras back then and all the petticoat skirt layers required a lot of support, wearing such big heavy skirts on your waist would've been terrible!!! So much back pain!! So the corset serves to support the back and distribute the weight of all the layers as well as the bust!! Because it was made with whale bone it was still very much flexible to a degree!! This means no issue slouching or leaning down, aside from just the bulk of the clothes!

I really like watching Bernadette Banner's videos where she experiments and discusses corsetry, and especially their experience with corsetry and scoliosis :0 which is really interesting

In one of the pictures above it did show some "belts" for men!! These were practically braces supported by straps that would sit over your undershirt, probably hook between pants and suspenders to take weight off your back while doing work and stuff?

So i wouldn't be surprised if Zephyr actually went to a historical costumer for a light black dyed linen or cotton corset, very simple and boned with some synthetic baleen, or for the air ghoul taste, some featherbone!! He'd also likely have no trouble getting several made, one for actual special occasions that looks entirely more so like a corset vest, as many men wore, or different variations of heaviness for when the backpain becomes a lot, he needs more backwide support, or the lighter smaller one just to replace his brace, it's still quite fancy for him to wear, at least to the modern eye. But ghouls have been around for ages or at least seen humanity evolve for millennia, most of them can tell zephyr just got corsets made for his back, in fact i would even argue some ghouls join him and get matching corsets for when they're on tour performing in stage for a while!! Especially dew who wears his when he's not on stage but rather for support whole traveling, and mountain who discovered wearing a brace actually REALLY helps his pain when he's working in the greenhouse or during band practice, aether also matches corsets with the ghoulettes bc he realizes they make his boobs look really nice and also gives him a really lovely silhouette on his clothes !! He's a fancy boyy!!

LOWKEY SORRY FOR THE RANT HAHA!!! BUT YEAH I LOVE THIS!!

#corsetry #corsets #historical clothing #historical costuming #the band ghost #raven rambles #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoul headcanons #nameless ghouls headcanons #shitghosting #educational?#aether ghoul #zephyr ghoul #mountain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #ghoulettes

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maleyanderecafe · 5 months ago

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The Cold Commander by Day Cries in My Arms at Night (Manhwa)

Created by: 风月入怀

Genre: Sci-fi/Romance

You'd think by the title that I should actually love this one, but it's a headache to read thanks to the machine translations and the five billion watermarks on it. Really what pulls me through is the Ying Yu specifically during his susceptibility phase (or what I call it, baby mode), because otherwise god this one was a bit of a headache to read at times. There is about 69 chapters to this as of writing this.

The story starts out in a spaceship with commander Ying Yu and assistant/ doctor Gu Weilin fighting in a battle. They are able to win, but Ying Yu ends up injured and is healing in one of the medical bays. We learn from Gu that Ying Yu is actually an experiment done by the military, that has part incubus in his blood. Ying Yu and Gu actually were childhood friends, but due to the experiment, Ying Yu's memory was erased before he went into military training, and Gu found that she could work besides him again and took the chance. Ying Yu ends up waking up and pins down Gu. Gu realizes that Ying Yu is in his susceptibility mode and braces for something bad to happen, only for Ying Yu to recognize and call her by their childhood name. He becomes incredibly clingy afterwards wanting her attention and being afraid of her leaving. After calming him down,(via sleeping with him), the next day she ends up running into Duke Ying, Ying Yu's father and one of the commanders. After confirming that no one but her saw him in his susceptibility phase, the Duke makes Gu promise to stay silent about it. Ying Yu wakes up, having no memory of what exactly happened during his susceptibility state, but does recognize that someone was in his room last night. He tries to figure out who it was by asking assistant Gu to find her. Gu ends up going home as a vacation to a loving family and ends up going to an arranged date because of her grandfather. During the date, Ying Yu keeps on calling Gu to ask her for random things he's misplaced, until he ultimately just files over to pick her up. After finding the item, Ying Yu ends up calling his dad to try to find out the woman that was in her room, only to have his dad yell at him for chasing insignificant things. Ying Yu ends up paying Gu to suspend her vacation for now so that she can take care of him. She ends up basically doing a bunch of menial tasks for Ying Yu (getting him candy, pouring him water, taking care of him before he sleeps) before he gets drunk one day and ends up turning back into his baby form (susceptibility phase) version of him. This phase lasts until the next day, which is troublesome for Gu as they cannot continue their work without him. The Duke ends up getting both of them picked up after finding out, with Gu having to convince Ying Yu to go to sleep inside of his pod so he can go back to normal. He does eventually go back to normal, though he still wishes to find out who exactly he slept with. They go to a fancy dinner together after their work is completed and she ends up meeting Ying Yu's to be fiance. After this, Gu resigns as assistant (but is still the ship's doctor) as she shouldn't have to deal with Ying Yu's baby mode now that he has someone else. She ends up taking her vacation afterwards, but Ying Yu calls her a ton, not realizing that she's resigned from her position as assistant. During her vacation with her family, she ends up having to fight invading aliens for a bit before Ying Yu comes to save them.

Gu ends up giving her medical support to those around her after the incident, and even sees her former date, though is called up by Ying Yu to treat his wounds. Ying Yu gets jealous that there's another man in her life, which is why he basically gets her to go up on the ship to treat him instead of the various of other people getting affected by the alien attacks. Of course, Gu ends up going back to help on Earth, while Ying Yu essentially googles how to keep Gu by his side, with the two options being to give her a raise or to marry her. Ying Yu, being a yandere, of course decides that marriage is the better option, and uses an excuse of Gu picking up his watch to come over to her house. After a brief encounter with Gu's parents, Ying Yu pretty much pulls out the marriage certificate and tries to get Gu to marry him, to which Gu, understandably refuses. Gu later passes out because she was drugged (?) by Ying Yu and kidnapped into his place. Gu is understandably upset that she just got kidnapped against her will. Ying Yu handcuffs Gu and then forces her to sign a contract before letting her go. After this, she actually checks to see what's going on with her body, only to find that she is pregnant. Gu and Ying Yu do some lovey dovey stuff as per contract, with Ying Yu obviously picking up signs that she is pregnant without knowing that he's pregnant. Ying Yu ends up bringing Gu to an island, to where Gu learns about Ying Yu's biological mother, who was imprisoned on the island after getting pregnant with Ying Yu. She basically tells Gu to be careful when being with Ying Yu as she doesn't want her to end up like her. The president calls her, and Gu learns that a huge percentage of Ying Yu's memories that were erased were related to her, even seeing that they had to torture him in order to get rid of these memories. He also reveals that because he is too dependent on Gu, he's forced Ying Yu to go through his susceptibility mode again so that he can be with another woman, to which Gu in panic runs back. Upon going there, we see that the woman that was sent in was rejected and that Ying Yu has returned back into baby mode. He is very clingy and has apparently hurt his tail, so Gu has to come in and patch it up. After being very cute and Gu trying to make up reasons for him to avoid trying to touch her stomach, the two eventually end up sleeping next to each other until Gu has to wake up the next morning to visit her mother at the hospital. Ying Yu turns back to normal the next day, having no idea what happened, though for some reason his tail and horns are still there. The two end up going to a ball together despite I believe Ying Yu still being engaged (which, don't worry, the person he is engaged to is in love with another lady). She asks the commander and Ying Yu if she can take a two month vacation, but Ying Yu ends up kidnapping her (again) and chaining her inside of the space ship until she finishes her work (and gets fed by Ying Yu). Ultimately, Ying Yu's mother comes to save Gu, stating that she was the one who told her to take the leave so that she could help her (Ying Yu's mother) with her pregnancy (or at least, under that lie).

After Ying Yu bargins with her so that he can come visit, Gu is able to take her vacation to take care of their child. Ying Yu finds out that Gu is pregnant, demanding that she tell him who the father is, to which Gu refuses. After getting angry for a while and taking care of Gu when she's sick, Ying Yu leaves, and Gu wakes up to find out that the news of her pregnancy has been told to her parents already. Ying Yu finalizes their marriage to Gu's parents, to which Gu gets angry as nobody told her, which also leads to Ying Yu's parents having a spat. Ying Yu is able to convince the president to back down. Ying Yu does finally find out that Gu's child is his, and his mother talks to him about Ying Yu's older brother, a failed experiment that was exiled, as he's apparently smuggled himself back into the country. After some more cute moments, Ying Yu goes back into baby mode, getting jealous of his own child, before eventually trying to take care of Ying Yu and her child after finding out it's his. Ying Yu's brother is able to make it onto the island and makes an arrangement with Ying Yu's mother. Some more cute moments and Gu finds out she's adopted, and that she actually has some sort of fairy heritage.

I kind of don't want to be too harsh on this manhwa because I think the main issues I have with it are less about the actual story and more about the translation (because let's be honest, machine translation takes far too much brain power to interpret what's going on in the story), but it does very greatly affect how I feel about it because it's hard to write a proper recommendation when you're not sure what's going on. There are a ton of points where I don't actually understand what's going on with Ying Yu and Gu, and am just guessing, because some parts are just really confusing. As with most manhwa, it does go fairly fast, but the pacing was at least a bit more reasonable as compared to some other ones I've read.

Really what's making me hold on is Ying Yu's baby mode (because of course) and the sci fi element to it. In general, I find that sci fi is one of those genres that really lacks any yanderes, which is a shame because it has a lot of potential with making some pretty interesting plot elements. This one cheats a bit because there are also elements of fantasy in it (specifically Ying Yu being part succubus and I guess Gu being a fairy), but for the most part it is more or less set in a sci fi world, with everyone using holographic watches, fighting aliens and working on space ships. Gu as a doctor works pretty well since it gives her and Ying Yu and excuse to be together more often, as she has to take care of his baby mode, and it makes her status pretty important. Maybe a bit too much, honestly I think these people really need to give her a break because every time she asks for any time off, something happens like she gets kidnapped, or Ying Yu makes up an excuse to come see her and bring her back to work, or aliens attack. They probably could have done more with the sci fi element, but I think even seeing it used in a yandere story is enough for me at this moment. I'll probably change my mind if I ever see more sci-fi like stories come out in the future. The other one, which is completely on my love of sub yanderes, is of course Ying Yu's baby mode. Ying Yu normally is pretty controlling, albeit stupid (seriously, none of the signs of her being pregnant got through to you at all?) though he does have his childish moments, though honestly I don't really like him as a character as much since he's pretty much the type of cool love interests these stories tend to have. He does have yandere moments of course, such as kidnapping Gu, not once, but twice, trying to get them married against Gu's wishes and being generally possessive and jealous, but baby mode Ying Yu has my heart because he's really cute. It is a little weird though since it's implied that he did sleep with Gu despite seemingly having the mentality of a child (this isn't confirmed, of course, but he does act a bit too much like a child, and this is from someone who likes adult characters who are childish), so it does feel a bit strange when baby mode Ying Yu is supposedly sleeping with Gu and also crying because he can't bandage his own tail. Still, I never get any rights for sub or even very cute yanderes in most stories, so I have to take my wins where I can. He's really clingy and can get jealous, only wanting to be with Gu and even kicking out the other lady they tried to send to him so that he would sleep with her. While he does show up quite a decent amount of times in the story, I still wish he would show up more, or even try to talk about why it seems baby mode Ying Yu remembers Gu and not normal Ying Yu. The whole Gu being pregnant thing was fine, I suppose, but it didn't really leave too much impact on me other than Gu trying her hardest to hide it from Ying Yu and failing, and I guess now that we know Gu is also a fairy, we're going to have a really powerful fairy/succubus on our hands, so that's going to be interesting.

Honestly, a lot of the plot is a bit lagging since it's more or less building up the relationship between Ying Yu and Gu, but it does get interesting when Ying Yu's brother takes place. I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing, it is just something to keep in mind. That being said, if you are look for that cute and clingy yandere and some sort of scifi element shaped hole in your yandere readings, this one is probably a good one to read through. Just maybe don't think too much about the translations and watermarks.

#The Cold Commander by Day Cries in My Arms at Night #male yandere #yandere #yandere boy #recommendations #ongoing #manhua

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celestiall0tus · 8 months ago

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Into the Fire - Chapter 4 - Reunion

Beginning || Previous || Next

Cicada watched the last of the fireworks explode. She took a deep breath as she flew down to the ground. She summoned her baton and held it at the ready. She scanned the area as she watched for any movement. A chill ran up her body as she heard footsteps behind her. She leapt forward as a slender girl in a torn purple tiger outfit and a boy with a punk snake outfit struck. They attacked her in tandem until she flew up. They jumped up to try and ground her, but she smacked them back to the ground. Her eyes darted between the snake boy swiped up on his charm.

Cicada gasped. Pain tore through her body and her world warped and distorted. She fought to focus as another spasm hit her. She heard her opponents yell, but their words fell on deaf ears. More pain tore her body asunder. She screamed and thrashed when she felt herself plummet. Her eyes widened as she saw a white light blob suspended in the air while she fell. She braced herself for impact when she was caught. She stiffened when she saw the snake had her in his arms.

“Marinette? Marinette, is that really you?”

“What? No! I’m not Marinette. I’m just… I’m not Marinette!”

The boy smiled and crushed Marinette in a hug. “It is you! I’d recognize your beautiful, melodic voice anywhere!”

“Melodic? Are you-?”

“Fang!” the girl howled.

The tiger girl tore Marinette from Fang’s embrace and threw her onto the ground. She pinned Marinette down by the throat.

“Claw, wait! Please!”

“No! This loser dumped you for that stupid model boy. There’s only one thing to do with trash like her.”

“I’m not Marinette!”

“Shut up! You think we wouldn’t recognize those stupid little pigtails, your annoying voice, and, well, the clothes are new, but still just as awful,” Claw hissed.

“Yeah? Then explain that!” Marinette yelled as she pointed to the mess Gimmi was.

Claw hesitated. “I… can’t, but that doesn’t change that you are Moronette.”

Marinette deadpanned. “Fine, whatever. I am Marinette, but I’m not your Marinette.”

“That much is obvious,” a new voice hissed.

Marinette looked up and saw a pair of girls. Both were dressed in fancy spandex suits with the taller girl dressed in a bee-themed one and the shorter one in a horse-themed one.

“Back off, Sting! Crush! This is our mark,” Claw hissed.

“Yeah! We’re going to hand her over to the Supreme and everything will be set right again. She’ll be mine,” Fang added.

Marinette winced. She saw a lot of herself in Fang when it came to Adrien. It made her uncomfortable, but it gave her an idea. She watched Claw and Fang bicker with Sting and Crush before she looked around. She desperately hoped for one of her comrades or the rebel heroes. She eyed the rebels on a nearby rooftop fighting with a dragon and dog villain. She sighed and looked around again when she saw the red lights of Senketsu’s suit. She took a breath and steeled herself.

“Ladies, please. Stop fighting over me. I know I’m irresistible, but if I had to choose who turns me in, I’d rather it be Fang,” Marinette remarked.

Sting, Crush, and Claw all curled their lips while Fang’s eyes widened. He grabbed Claw and threw her off Marinette, then scooped her up.

“Really? And would you come back to me? Will you leave that stupid model? Will you admit you were wrong to leave me?”

Marinette forced herself to smile. She ran her hands down from his shoulders to his wrists. “I hope you can forgive me. That awful, evil model warped my mind with his silver tongue. He clouded my judgement and stole me away from you.”

“Oh, barf! Can you two not?” Crush gagged.

“Can you-?” Fang started.

Marinette tore off snake bracelet and flung it towards where she saw Senketsu. She watched Senketsu, Viperion, and Tigre Rose lunge from the shadows and grabbed the bracelet. Relief flooded her seeing Viperion grab the other snake bracelet. They locked eyes for a moment before she was grabbed by the neck and thrown onto the ground. She winced as she looked up and saw this universe’s version of Luka. She shuddered seeing the rage that clouded his eyes.

“You ungrateful whore! I was willing to let you back in. I was willing to forgive you for everything you did to me. But I’m not enough, am I? You’d much rather run back to that little poser, wouldn’t you? You’d much rather your fake little bitch than someone like me, don’t you?”

Marinette snorted and laughed. “I see why your Marinette left you. I wouldn’t have stayed with you either. Not when I have my own Luka.”

“You own Luka?” Viperion and Tigre Rose echoed.

Marinette stiffened. She turned to see Viperion and Tigre Rose close to her. She glanced past them to see Senketsu fighting Sting and Crush with Louve Grise and Faerie. She looked back at them with an awkward smile. Her heart leapt and sunk seeing the hope and love in Viperion’s eyes but plummeted seeing the anger and contempt in Tigre Rose’s face and entire body.

“Uh, is that what I said? I mean… what I meant was, uh, well, I didn’t know you were listening?”

Viperion smiled softly and offered Marinette a hand. She reached for it as Tigre Rose roared, activated Clout, and punched Viperion. She screamed out as Viperion flew and crashed through the Eiffel Tower. Tigre Rose lunged and attacked Viperion.

“No! Please, stop them!” Marinette begged.

“We have bigger problems other than your jealous ex and your rebound!” Senketsu yelled.

Marinette’s jaw dropped as anger flared. “Hey! He’s not a rebound!”

“Yeah! That’s right!” Bunella added.

Marinette squeaked seeing Bunella standing beside her.

“Bunella? What are you doing? Where is-?” Marinette started.

“I heard everything Marinette. Oh! I knew you were falling for Luka again. You know, he never stopped loving you. Even though we did try to help him move on, he just couldn’t fully let go. A little crazy, but I totally get it. I know if Juleka and I broke up, woof. I would be devastated. I likely wouldn’t recover for over a year, and it’s only been what? Six-ish months since you and Luka broke up? And, what? Three since Adrien?”

Marinette’s face twisted in confusion. “Bunella! We don’t have time for this! Where is-?”

“Hey!” Claw yelled.

Marinette turned as Claw lost her miraculous to an invisible force and reverted to this universe’s version of Juleka. “Oh. Well, whatever. We need to stop-!”

A white portal opened as this universe’s Alix was thrown out and Bunnix stepped out.

Marinette’s jaw dropped. She snapped it shut when she heard a shrill scream. She looked over to see Sting lose her miraculous and revert to this universe’s Chloe. Crush grabbed Chloe, opened a portal, and stepped through it.

“Great! Thanks for all that help there!” the other Juleka yelled.

Marinette grimaced but ignored that Juleka. Marinette watched as Faerie darted forward and tore Tigre Rose from the fight, restraining him. White Mouse revealed herself and ran up to Viperion, checking on him. Marinette sighed and looked at the rebel heroes. Their villains had vanished and they stood with Senketsu and Drakon. Marinette stood to join them when she heard bells toll. Marinette turned as Gimmi stabilized in her human form and fell to the ground.

“Gimmi!”

Marinette ran and helped Gimmi up.

“What happened? Are you ok?” Marinette asked.

“I am very annoyed. Do we have everyone?” Gimmi demanded.

Marinette looked around. She saw Faerie with Tigre Rose under her arm talking with Betterfly. Bunella, White Mouse, and Viperion huddled together away from Tigre Rose. Louve Grise and Senketsu spoke with Ladybug and Claw Noir. Chevalier and Drakon stood off to the side in their own huddle.

“We don’t have Hera.”

Gimmi sighed. “That’s not good. She should have come, if she were here.”

Marinette’s breath caught. “You don’t think Hera is with the Supreme, do you?”

“I would assume so. Where else would she have gone?”

“I don’t know, anywhere?”

“Maybe, but I’d rather assume she ended up with the Supreme.”

“Then we really, really have no choice now. If we are to save Hera, we need to find them.”

Marinette helped Gimmi up and joined Betterfly.

“Cicada, are you ok?” Betterfly asked.

“We’ll be fine, but we need to rest. After that, we need to find the Supreme to find Hera.”

“Hera? Is she your peacock holder?” Betterfly asked.

“Yes. And she’s not here, clearly. If she isn’t here, she has to be with the Supreme. However, we need to all rest and plan our next steps.”

“And to have a sit down about someone’s behavior,” Faerie said to Tigre Rose.

“But-!” Tigre Rose started.

Faerie shot Tigre Rose a look that silenced him.

“What did I miss?” Gimmi asked.

“Uh, later. Anyway, do you have a hideout or something, Betterfly?” Marinette asked.

“I do. We can-.”

“Oh, before I forget, Mullo has an idea,” White Mouse interrupted.

“Oh? Well, no time like the present. Lead the way, Betterfly.”

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#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #miraculous au #au #alternate universe #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #mlb fanfic #canon divergence #paris special #all that remained au #canon divergent au

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isthisclever · 2 years ago

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39 Days | Outlander Fanfiction

Ch. 13 // Days 31 & 32

Claire had never been a lucid dreamer. No matter if she was struggling to run through quicksand or hopscotching across turtles over a bubbling orange lake suspended in midair, her dream-self accepted the dream-world at face value, never suspecting it was nothing but mist and fancy.

But standing on the beach after Gillian called her name, half a dozen pairs of eyes lancing right through her, she wondered for one hysterical moment if this was what lucid dreaming felt like: the world’s surreality closing in around her, a frantic need to claw herself back onto safer ground. Her hand itched with the temptation to slap herself awake. She restrained herself. It would’ve been futile.

This was a nightmare, but it was no dream.

She should’ve refused to go along on the reward excursion. Maybe Gillian would’ve picked someone else, someone who actually wanted to enjoy dockside brunch and uninterrupted time with their loved one. But in the moment, dread paralyzed her. It seemed to move her instead of her own will to step forward, meeting no one’s eyes even as their resentful stares bored into her back.

And how could she blame any of them?

The day was incongruously gorgeous, as though the island itself had put on its very best to impress their visitors. A cloudless sky cradled the sun, its heat tempered by a constant salty breeze. Perfect teal waters lay calm beneath their boat; the only white-capped waves in sight came from the wake off the back.

Claire wished she could relish it all.

As the speedboat listed slightly to the right to follow the curving shoreline, Claire stole her first glance at Jamie. He looked much as he had the first time she’d seen him on a boat: tense, and a mottled combination of green and grey. If today had gone how it was meant to—if Lamb were beside her—she’d have teased him about it.

Almost as if he could hear the longing and bitterness of her thoughts, Frank wrapped an arm around her waist. The reminder of who actually stood at her side tightened in her chest like a python squeezing the life from her. She shuddered and stepped out of his reach, bracing herself against the seat several inches away. In the very edge of her periphery, Jamie and Will shifted with identical terse rolls of their shoulders.

She wished she could’ve ribbed him about that too.

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#outlander #outlander fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #survivor #outlander survivor crossover #modern au #james fraser #claire beauchamp #frank randall #jamie and claire #Jamie and Claire OTP #wip #current wip #fanfic

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petslike79 · 2 years ago

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Dog Back Support Belts

Depending on the needs of your dog, there are different types of Dog Back Support Belts to choose from. Some are easy to use while others are more complex. There are even adjustable dog back support belts available that can be used by anyone. These belts can also be used to help your dog stay comfortable during activities such as hiking, biking, and swimming. For more details Contact @9845994396

Adjustability range

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The Pets like Brights Reflective Front-Connect dog vest is a great option, featuring a leash attachment that can be placed either in the front or back. The front velcro connection is a little more convenient than the back straps, and the cuffs can be adjusted to accommodate a variety of chest sizes. For more details Contact @9845994396

Releasable closures

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Pets like

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Pets like Dog Harness

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The best back brace for Pets like is designed to support the thoracic and sacral spine. The brace can be worn on the front or on the back. The brace is easy to put on and remove. It is also breathable, which helps reduce stress in your dog. For more details Contact @9845994396

#Dog Back Support Belts

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sporthb1 · 3 years ago

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Most people my age: you want suit and tie? Best I can do is Button down and slacks

Me: I have 7 suits your gonna need to be more spesfic, I have 2 full djs, one full military parade suit, 3 normal navy/black, 1 pinstripe and one tweed like be more spesfic.

#Suits #This isn't even touching on my braces/ suspender collection #My ties #My hand made wasitcoats #Pocket watch #Ribbons #Scarfs #Umbrella #I just wanna be a fancy buissnes person #When I was told a suit everyday I was bummed #But then I liked it #Personalised alot #Then got promoted #And got more leeway on colors #And now we are here #Ohh and my coats

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thecatalystfire · 6 years ago

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Going to a wedding

#me #selfie #braces #suspenders #suit #fancy #london #uk #british #man #beard

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helloalycia · 4 years ago

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my patient’s neighbour [two] // wanda maximoff

summary: as you spend more time with your patient's neighbour, you come to realise that your crush may be getting too much

warning/s: none, just fluff tbh

author's note: i’m so glad you guys enjoyed the first part! here’s the next bit :)

When Sunday rolled around, I did everything in my power to make it the perfect day for Anna. We went out for breakfast at a café around the corner, a stroll around the park, then I made her lunch before she conked out afterwards, napping in her bedroom. I took that as my chance to decorate the living-area with birthday decorations. Nothing too much as I knew she'd kill me if I went overboard, but little things like a banner, some balloons and streamers.

I told Wanda to come at this time, too, and she showed up with a bag of groceries and a pretty smile on her face.

"Here, let me help," I said, already moving to take the bag off her. "How are you?"

"I'm good," she said, closing the door behind her and following me into the kitchen. Her smile widened when she saw the decorations. "Y/N, this is lovely! Anna is going to love it!"

"You think?" I asked, spinning around and doing a once over of the living-area. "It's not too much? I know she'll hate if I do too much."

"It's just the right amount," Wanda reassured, glancing at me. "How has she been today?"

We both began to unpack the groceries as we talked.

"Really good actually," I said with a nod. "I treated her to breakfast at that café she likes. We went to the park, fed the ducks, had a nice stroll. Then I made her some lunch and she's napping which leaves us the perfect time to crack on with dinner."

Wanda chuckled. "Great." She paused, making me look to her to see her smile fading. Nervously, she asked, "Did her granddaughter call?"

I sighed quietly and Wanda seemed to know what that meant without me saying anything further.

"It's okay, we'll just have to make this the best meal ever," she said, not letting it get to her.

"We will," I agreed, before looking to the food on the table. "So, chef. Where do we start?"

Wanda and I spent the next hour prepping dinner, a beef stew called Solyanka, as it would require two hours to cook on the stove so we were starting early to make sure it would be ready in time.

I was chopping some onions as she prepared the beef, but I couldn't help myself from glancing at her every two seconds, still filled with concern because of her cast and minor injuries.

"You should take a picture, it'll last longer," she said teasingly, making me look up to see her watching me with a stifled smile.

"Sorry," I mumbled, shaking my head and looking back to my chopping board.

"What's wrong?" she asked gently.

I chewed on my lip as I glanced at her wrist again, before meeting her gaze. "How did it happen?"

"I already told you," she reminded me playfully, trying to lighten the mood, but I was still fretful. "It happened on a mission."

"Yeah, but how?" I asked again, hoping she understood what I meant.

She seemed reluctant to share, face scrunching up with thought, before looking down to her own chopping board. I thought she wouldn't tell me, but then she spoke.

"I can't tell you too much," she started, shrugging, "since it was a confidential mission. But basically, I was undercover when my target recognised me and we got into a fight."

Watching her with the utmost attention, I nodded, imagining it in my head.

"It wasn't difficult or anything, but it surprised me, y'know?" She looked to me with a smile, as if trying to make it sound less scarier than it was. "The guy, the target, he managed to get in few good hits. And he sprained my wrist. But it's alright."

I wasn't as amused as she was, wincing at the thought of her being in a fight. "Are you sure you're alright?"

She tilted her head knowingly. "I'm sure, Y/N. It's my job."

Shaking my head, I looked back down to my chopping board and continued chopping the onion. "I don't know how you can do that as a job..."

"Well, it's rewarding," she said like it was obvious. "Why do you spend most of your week caring for the elderly?"

"It's rewarding," I said without hesitation, before realising what she'd done and looking her way.

She was smiling cockily, making me roll my eyes and laugh.

"Okay, I see your point," I gave in. "But still. It's a dangerous job what you do. Just be careful, yeah?"

"Always am," she promised. And I wanted to believe her, but the cast on her wrist said otherwise.

—

"It smells like home, devochki, spasibo (girls, thank you)," Anna said from her place at the table. "Are you sure you don't want me to help?"

"We're sure, Anna," Wanda called back to her. "I'm just putting the food into a serving bowl and Y/N is grabbing some glasses. You sit and wait like the patient woman I know you are."

Anna mumbled something in Russian which I didn't understand, but it seemed to make Wanda chuckle as she rolled her eyes.

It was finally time for dinner and the stew had turned out beautifully, not that I had doubts since Wanda didn't seem like one to kid around with cooking.

As she was readying it for the table, I was setting everything up and all that was left were the glasses. But, of course (and oddly enough, since Anna was shorter than I), they were stored on the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard and just out of my reach.

In hindsight, I probably could have grabbed a stool and stood on it, but I was too lazy, so I went on my tip-toes and stretched with all my might. The tips of my fingers brushed against a glass and I attempted to move it towards me, unable to see if I was actually doing anything since it was too high. After a couple of tries, I managed to bring it forward, but my stupid self flicked it too hard and it came tumbling off the shelf and towards the counter.

I braced myself for the sound of glass smashing, but instead, a wondrous red energy wrapped itself around the glass and kept it suspended mid-fall.

"Very clever," Wanda said sarcastically, appearing directly beside me. Her accent was daringly teasing.

I looked up and saw her smirking at me with amusement, right hand raised and aimed at the glass. Red tendrils of energy glowed around her hand and the glass; I widened my eyes a little, amazed at how easy she made it look. Though I knew she had powers, I'd never actually seen her use them up close and personal. It was stunning.

"I totally knew you were going to do that," I played it cool, cheeks flushing as she set the glass on the counter.

"Mhm, sure you did," she played along with a melodious laugh, before pressing her front to my back without warning and reaching to grab two more glasses. "Here, I got it."

My body tensed at the feeling of her unexpectedly so close to me. My mouth went dry, her warmth emanating from her and washing over me with the scent of her perfume. Did she always smell so good?

When she grabbed all three glasses, she didn't seem to notice the effect she had on me (unless she did and kept quiet for her own amusement).

"Think you can grab the food without dropping it?" she asked, quirking an entertained brow.

Still distracted by her perfume, I nodded and cleared my throat. "Food. Right. Yeah."

As I stirred the stew to mix everything thoroughly, I felt my heart rate return to its normal pace and told myself to chill out. Wanda just happened to be an extremely pretty individual who was kind and thoughtful and funny. It wasn't a big deal.

When I was sure I wouldn't make a fool of myself, I returned to the dining table with a pot of stew and set it down on the placemat.

"Priyatnogo appetita (enjoy your meal)," I said, trying not to stumble over my pronunciation.

Both Anna and Wanda raised their brows with matching surprised smiles on their faces.

"You said that perfectly, Y/N!" Wanda said encouragingly, as I took a seat to the right of Anna at the head of the table.

"I see you've been practicing," Anna added, looking to me with an endearing gaze. "A present in itself. Thank you, milaya (sweetie)."

I smiled bashfully. "I have to keep up with you both somehow, right?"

Anna chuckled as Wanda gave me a brilliant smile. Something in my chest stirred as she did, and I was forced to look away, though my own smile didn't fade.

"So, Y/N and I put this together for you and I'm sure you'll know what it is," Wanda said, before serving up a bowl for Anna.

"Solyanka," Anna exclaimed with delight. "Devushki (girls), this looks and smells amazing." She paused, glancing between us both with a grateful smile. "Since you've both been here, this place... it's beginning to feel alive again."

To my surprise, she teared up and began to laugh, using her napkin to pat the corner of her eyes. I rested my hand on hers, squeezing it gently and giving her a small smile.

"I appreciate this very much," she continued, before squeezing my hand and letting go to grab her spoon. "I can't wait to try it."

The three of us dug into our stew and Anna loved it, talking about the first time she ever had it as a kid and how it was one of her favourite dishes. The rest of the meal went by wonderfully, with Anna looking as happy as ever and Wanda listening to her intently. I was listening, too, but my gaze did end up wandering to Wanda as she sat there animatedly, nodding along and smiling to Anna.

For some reason, she was ethereal tonight, though she looked like she always did. Her long brown hair was tied up in a ponytail and she wore a loose tee shirt over some jeans. Nothing fancy, but she pulled it off so well. Rings adorned her fingers as she played with them thoughtlessly, and it caught my eye before I got distracted by her cast on her left wrist.

She'd said she was okay, but it still worried me. It wasn't my right to worry, but she was my friend. I was concerned. She could take care of herself, but that wouldn't put the ache in my heart at ease.

As if she could hear my concerns, her eyes flickered to mine, a kaleidoscope of blue, green and gold. She sent me a reassuring glance before looking back to Anna with focus. I chewed on my lower lip, trying not to let my worry get the best of me, before looking back to Anna.

Towards the end of the meal, after we'd eaten and were merely conversing, Anna's landline rang in the apartment.

"I'll get it," Wanda said, already standing up to grab the phone from its cradle.

Anna and I watched as she answered the phone with a friendly 'hello', before a surprised expression appeared on her face.

"Sure, I'll pass it on now," Wanda was saying before approaching the table and stopping by Anna. Her expression softened as she said to Anna, "It's Sasha."

Anna's expression fell at the mention of her granddaughter. She nodded slightly, before standing up and grabbing her cane to balance. Accepting the phone, she began to walk away into her bedroom. Wanda and I heard her say a faint 'hello' before she closed the door behind her.

"Her granddaughter rang?" I asked with mild disbelief.

"It is her birthday," Wanda pointed out, returning to her seat.

"Bit late into the day though, isn't it?" I retorted, pulling a face. "Almost like the day is over, in fact."

"Sounding a little judgemental there, Y/N," Wanda teased, leaning forward into the palm of her hands and watching me.

"I'm not," I said with an eye roll. "I just think she should show her grandmother some respect. Who does she think she is?"

I paused as Wanda gave me a knowing look, then winced.

"Okay, I heard it that time," I admitted, making her laugh.

"I get it," she said, nodding slightly. "Maybe she's finally starting to realise though."

I sighed, leaning back in my seat. "I guess... For Anna's sake, I hope so."

Wanda and I talked amongst ourselves until Anna returned silently, hushing our conversation. She returned the phone to its cradle before taking a seat at the head of the table. Wanda and I exchanged looks before I decided to speak, noticing Anna wouldn't.

"Is Sasha doing okay?" I asked gently.

Anna was staring ahead, barely listening, before she glanced at me then looked down to her empty bowl. Sentences left her lips in Russian, mumbled and incoherent, at least to me. Wanda leaned forward, holding her hand and frowning with sympathy as she listened to her words. I felt horrible, sensing something was wrong, but unable to do anything to help.

"I'm sorry, Anna, I didn't mean to upset you," I said, shaking my head.

Wanda met my gaze. "It's not your fault... Anna just misses Sasha."

I frowned. "Oh."

"But I'm glad I have you both," Anna finally spoke, accent thick with emotion, as she looked between us before settling her eyes to me. "Even if you're paid to be here."

She cracked a smile, making my shoulders relax. I returned her expression, glad she still had a sense of humour.

Anna didn't mention Sasha's name for the rest of the evening. We cleaned up, had some tea, played a quick board game before I made sure she was okay for the night.

"She alright?" Wanda asked when I closed Anna's bedroom door and stepped into the hall.

"Yeah, she's tired from all of today's excitement," I said with a smile.

"So are you by the sounds of it," she joked, but stepped forward to rest a hand on my arm. "I think we should call it a night."

"I think we should," I said in agreement.

After grabbing my stuff, Wanda and I left the flat before walking to her apartment and stopping outside.

"Thanks for helping me out today," I told her with a tired smile. "I really appreciated it."

"Well, you asked so nicely... how could I resist?" she said, staring up at me through her eyelashes. I rolled my eyes playfully, making her smile. "I had fun. Thanks for inviting me."

I was going to respond, but a yawn escaped my lips, prompting me to cover my mouth as I did.

"Sorry," I said, trying to blink the fatigue away momentarily.

She chuckled, tilting her head and watching me carefully. "You're cute."

I breathed out through my nose, unsure what to say to her words, but I definitely felt my heart rate speed up a little.

"I'll let you go," she said, clearly entertained by my silence. "Get home safe, yeah?"

"And you look after yourself when saving the world, yeah?" I replied with a quirked brow, eyes glancing at her wrist.

"I promise." She grinned before moving forward to hug me.

I returned the hug, the smell of her perfume permanent in my nose by now, before pulling away with a final smile. Of course, I probably shouldn't have stared at her lips so intensely, wanting nothing more than to kiss them.

"See you tomorrow," I said, snapping back into reality and taking a step back. "Goodnight, Wanda."

"Goodnight," she said sweetly.

I turned to leave and was suddenly wide awake. Did I just think about kissing Wanda?

—

It was a few visits later when I was caring for Anna and she decided to have a dance around the living room. One minute we were flicking through different radio stations, and the next she was putting on some old records on her record player. She settled on an upbeat, 50s dance song, the music filling the apartment with joy.

"Egor and I danced to this very song when we first met," she told me, talking about her late husband with a twinkling passion in her eyes. "It was a party and he had been staring at me all night, and I him. Then finally, when this song came on, he approached me and said, 'dorogaya, okazyvayesh' mne chest' tantsevat' so mnoy?'"

I suppressed a smile as I watched her reminisce. "And that means...?"

"'Darling, would you do me the honour of dancing with me'?" she repeated in English for my benefit.

My heart melted. "Anna, that's adorable. He sounds like such a gentlemen."

"He was," she said with a sigh of agreement, smiling to herself.

Whenever she talked about her husband, I'd never seen her look more content. The mere mention of his name was enough to put a smile on her face. I could only hope to have a love like theirs some day.

I stepped forward, putting out my hand. "I'm no Egor, but I'd love to dance with you if you'd let me."

"Oh, I can't do that," she said, waving my hand away. "I can barely walk, milaya (sweetie)."

"Hey, as your carer, I am insisting that you dance with me," I said, feigning sternness.

She hesitated, before resting her hand in mine and smiling with gratitude. The two of us danced together, myself being careful to keep her upright and make sure she didn't overexert herself. She was smiling and laughing as I spun her around, dancing her all around the living room, and it warmed my heart to see her so cheery.

A knock on the door caused me to excuse myself from Anna, only to find Wanda on the other end.

"Someone's in a good mood," she said instantly, taking note of my smile.

I stepped to the side to let her in. "Yeah, well, Anna is doing good today. It's contagious, what can I say?"

Before Wanda could respond, Anna called from the living-area with excitement.

"Wanda, idi syuda i potantsuy so mnoy!" she exclaimed, already grabbing Wanda's hand and pulling her in.

It didn't take a genius to know that Anna had basically asked Wanda to dance with her. I chuckled as I followed after them, enjoying the sight of Anna and Wanda dancing together.

"What's the occasion?" Wanda asked, glancing over the short woman and to me with a helpless smile.

"No occasion," I quipped, crossing my arms and trying to hold in my laughter at Anna's speed and perseverance with a reluctant Wanda. "Just having a good time."

Wanda looked like she wanted to retort with a comment, but Anna spun her around before she could, making me laugh aloud.

"Prikhodi odin, milaya (come on, sweetie)!" Anna said, holding out a hand. "Dance!"

Unable to resist, I joined in with the two Sokovian women, appreciating how happy Anna looked and how awkward Wanda felt in the situation. She wasn't much of a dancer, but she was trying and God was that adorable.

We danced for a little while longer until Anna's back began to hurt and she took a seat. Though, she insisted that Wanda and I resume with our dancing.

Just on time, like a sign from the universe or a higher being or whatever you wanted to believe in, a slow song came on next, filling the apartment soothingly.

To my surprise, the awkward dancer that was Wanda was oddly confident as she held out her hand to me.

"Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?" she asked softly, a small smile playing on her lips.

At the familiarity of her words, I glanced to Anna, who seemed to pick up on it, too. She said nothing as she watched us with a smile of her own.

"I'd love to," I said, looking back to Wanda's eyes.

They looked blue in the light, a beautiful sky blue that put me at ease as soon as I stared into them. I slipped my hand into hers, letting her pull us closer together as she rested her other hand on my waist, the touch sending shivers up my spine. I put mine on her shoulder, allowing her to take the lead.

It was the most intimate we'd been, and as she maintained eye contact, I wondered if she could feel my hands trembling slightly, or my heart hammering loudly, or my palms turning a little sweaty. She made me nervous in the best way possible, her smile dazzling without realising and her eyes piercing without meaning to be.

She must have felt it, too, that tug in the pit of her stomach that I was feeling now. Otherwise there was something seriously wrong and I was already too deep into a crush on my patient's neighbour.

When the song ended, it feeling like mere seconds in total, she let go of me and I missed the contact and the smell of her perfume and the way she was looking at me.

"Couldn't have done it better myself," Anna spoke, forcing me to tear my gaze from Wanda's lips. She smiled at me knowingly. "You ladies definitely know how to dance."

I felt a heat creeping up my neck as I smiled to myself, distracting myself with the laces on my shoes. When I finally brought myself to look up, I saw Wanda already looking my way, a calm expression on her face.

As she did most times she visited, Wanda stayed with me and Anna until I tucked Anna into bed and bid her a goodnight. We left the apartment and Wanda decided to walk me to the lift that evening, a distracted look on her face.

It was silent between us, a comfortable one, until the doors slid open and I looked to her with kind eyes.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," I told her, making her look to me. "Have a nice evening, Wanda."

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. I watched with amusement, wondering what was going on in that pretty head of hers. The lift doors began to shut, so I put my foot between them to keep them open.

"I should go," I said with an awkward laugh, before grabbing her hand and squeezing it gently since she wouldn't speak. "Goodnight."

When I turned to leave, I got, maybe, a step into the lift before I felt her fingers wrap around my wrist and tug me backwards, spinning me around. I didn't get chance to ask what was up as she stepped forward, pressing her lips to mine in an instant.

Startled, I froze at the contact, but then her hand rested on the back of my neck as her thumb caressed my jaw, and I found myself melting into her, closing my eyes at the blissful feeling.

Her other hand fell to my waist as she deepened the kiss, sending me into the lift and the wall hitting my back. I moved my lips in time with hers, revelling at how soft and delicate and gentle she was being. Kissing Wanda Maximoff wasn't something I had realised would be this good, but now that I was, I never wanted to stop.

Unfortunately, the sound of the lift doors shutting pulled us apart. I was breathless, my heart racing and my lips swollen from her spectacular kiss.

"I've wanted to do that for such a long time," she revealed, stepping back a little. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks were flushed as she watched me with mild concern. "I completely should have asked though. I'm sorry that I overstepped."

She pursed her lips, forefinger and thumb pinching her bottom lip regretfully and gaze falling to the floor.

"You didn't overstep," I said, already missing the sensation of her lips against mine. "You stepped just the right amount."

She looked back up, eyes softening as her lips curved into a radiant smile.

"You wanna, maybe, do that again?" I asked without thinking, my mind a haze as Wanda still remained so close to me.

She laughed melodiously before raising her hand and cupping my cheek. Her eyes looked between mine before falling to my lips affectionately.

"I'd love to, dorogoy (darling)."

I smiled toothlessly before closing the gap between us, secretly wishing this lift ride would go on forever if it meant I could kiss Wanda like this.

—

After making out with Wanda in the lift, she asked me out on a date and it was the best date I'd ever been on. Nothing over the top but very thoughtful as she took me for a picnic in the park before getting ice cream for dessert.

We went on a few more dates after that, taking turns to take the lead with them, and she ended up asking me to be her girlfriend which of course I said yes to.

All whilst this was going on, I still cared for Anna and Wanda paid her visits when she could, though we tried to remain as normal as possible. We didn't think it was best to tell Anna that we were together since we didn't want to startle her or make her feel uncomfortable in our presence. Of course, keeping a secret from Anna is as good as nothing when she had eyes like a hawk.

Wanda and I were putting a plate of tea and biscuits together for Anna one day, myself lining up the biscuits neatly as Wanda lingered beside me. She was about to grab a biscuit from the plate when I smacked her hand away.

"Just one," she pleaded, but I shook my head before nodding to the packet on the side.

"Help yourself to those," I told her condescendingly. "These are for Anna."

"Just get her another," she said simply, before reaching over again.

I smacked her hand away again, giving her a knowing look.

"Y/N!"

"Wanda!" I mirrored her childish smile.

She narrowed her eyes petulantly. "Are you seriously doing this right now?"

"Are you?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

She pouted and I so badly wanted to lean forward and kiss it away, but Anna was sat on her recliner behind us. Wanda seemed to know this as a mischievous smile fell on her lips, eyes watching me carefully.

"You're not cute," I mumbled, before grabbing the tray and turning to leave. As I was walking to Anna, a biscuit began to float off the plate, red wisps of energy wrapped around it and bringing it to– "Wanda!"

She laughed, eyes glowing red with magic, before grabbing the biscuit from mid-air and taking a bite.

"Such a child," I said under my breath before setting the tray on the coffee table before Anna. Smiling at her, I said, "Here you go, Anna. Do you want anything else?"

As I straightened up, flipping Wanda off behind my back and encouraging her laughter further, I noticed the way Anna looked between us both curiously.

"Everything okay?" I asked, eyebrows knitting together as she continued to study us both.

"Something happened," she decided. "Between you both."

"What do you mean?" I asked, taking a seat on the couch. "Nothing happened."

"Something definitely did," she said knowingly. "I may be old, milaya (sweetie), but I have very good eyes."

"Anna, what are you talking about?" Wanda played dumb, taking a seat beside me, biscuit in hand.

"Don't think I haven't seen the way you two steal glances when you think I'm not looking," she said, pointing between us. "Or the way you," her finger settled on Wanda, "have been helping Y/N out more often than usual."

Wanda and I flushed, embarrassed that we'd been caught out. I was so certain that we'd successfully hid it from her, but clearly we were mistaken.

"We wanted to tell you," Wanda began, cheeks still pink as she leaned forward.

Anna silenced her with a wave of her hand. "Save it. I knew I was right. You two are together."

Pursing my lips, I waited for her to say something because I wasn't really sure what to say myself. Suddenly, a smile appeared on her lips.

"I'm very happy for you both," she said to us. "Wanda here always needed somebody in her life who wasn't me. And you, Y/N, are the perfect match for her."

I chuckled, looking to the girl in question, whose face was as red as her powers that she used to torment me with. I grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently, and nudged her in the shoulder.

"You hear that? Perfect match," I teased, making her roll her eyes to distract from her flustered self.

Anna said something to her in Russian, way too fast and incomprehensible for me to understand, even with the extra effort I was making to learn it. Whatever it was, it made Wanda get even more embarrassed, her green eyes darting around the room in an effort to overcome it.

"What did you say?" I asked Anna with amusement.

"Oh, nothing Wanda hasn't heard before," she said dismissively. "It's all okay. Isn't it, Wanda?"

"Yeah," Wanda mumbled.

"I don't know what's happening here, but I'm all for someone putting Wanda in her place," I said, looking between them both with an entertained smile.

Anna chuckled as Wanda shoved me in the arm gently before pulling me close again. I smiled at how cute she looked, pink blush creeping up her neck and teeth chewing on her lower lip to contain her smile.

I'd never get sick of the sight.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen imagine #wanda maximoff #marvel imagine #marvel #mcu imagine

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foli-vora · 4 years ago

Text

all i need

A/N: lmao a brief depressive episode gave way to a relentless hunger to fuck a cowboy so... enjoy. ❤️

Pairing: Jack Daniels/Agent Whiskey x f!reader

Word count: almost 2.2k

Warnings: THIS IS 18+ ONLY! swearing, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, body worship, unprotected p in v (wrap before you tap), clit slaps, choking, a good ol’ creampie and a tiny miniscule slice of cum eating (if I’ve forgotten anything, please let me know!)

“No, no, no! Shit! Fucking shit, fuck –”

The casserole dish clatters to the counter and you try to wave the sting of a burn from your hands, frowning at the now blackened potatoes, smoke curling towards the ceiling and hanging heavy in your nose. No saving those. The potatoes join the rest of the burnt food crowding the counter and you feel the burn of tears build behind your lids.

It was your and Jack’s anniversary – your third to be exact, your first as an engaged couple. You had spent hours going through Pinterest, browsing some fancy recipes and saving anything you think Jack would like, deciding to make him a big fancy home cooked meal for him to come home to as an anniversary surprise. Suffice to say, it was not going well.

Well, there was still time – maybe you could order something in before he got home. You both were at your apartment in Manhattan as Jack had been working at the New York Statesmen offices, so you had plenty of options to pick from. You sigh when you hear the front door open, a set of keys being thrown in the bowl by the door and heavy footsteps leading through the apartment.

“Sweetheart? Where are y–” Jack stops dead when he enters the kitchen, a magnificent bouquet of red roses in one hand, dark eyes quickly taking in the cluttered counters of horrifically burnt food and then landing on you, hands braced on your hips and tears building in your eyes as you glared at the burnt dishes. “What’s all this?”

“It was meant to be a surprise,” you mutter, shoulders falling in defeat, “for our anniversary… but I ruined it.”

“Hey now,” he moves forward instantly, arms looping around your waist and free hand falling to the back of your head as he cradles you to him. “It looks… uh… it looks like you’ve put a lot of work into everything.”

You scoff, pulling back and smiling softly as he presents you with the flowers. The sweet perfume hits your senses, ridding your nose of the smoke smell and you sigh, kissing his cheek softly. “They’re stunning, Jack. Thank you.”

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart.” He murmurs against your forehead, nose scrunching slightly as smoke permeates his nose. “Let’s just –” he momentarily leaves you to open the kitchen windows before taking the roses from you and sitting them on the counter in the one small bit of space not taken up by burnt food, and then leads you into the less-smoky dining area.

“I’m sorry I screwed dinner up.” You’re sullen as you speak, disappointed in yourself and what you thought were decent cooking skills.

“Don’t be silly. My future wife,” he coos, large hands cradling your face softly as he presses his lips from one cheek to the other, curved nose brushing against yours softly, “always thinking of me – spoiling me. You’re incredible, baby.”

“But I –”

“No. You are incredible. You spent your day working away in here, all for me. Now, did it end up how you wanted? No – but does that take away from the time and effort you spent doing so? No. You’re always looking after me, sweetheart… and now, it’s my turn.”

Your hands fly to his shoulders with a cry of surprise as he bends slightly, grabbing you just below your ass and sitting you on the edge of the dining table. He hands pull at his jacket as he drops to his knees, throwing it aside and not caring when it drops to a crumpled heap a few steps away.

You blink down at him, “What are you doing?”

“Having myself a top-quality anniversary meal, courtesy of my lovely fiancé.” He answers with a grin curling at his lips, warm hands rubbing along the smooth skin above your ankles. “Lay back for me, baby, let me see you.”

Your eyes don’t leave his as you slowly recline, resting on your elbows on the cool timber surface, his hands brushing up your legs and along your thighs and slowly pushing up the cute floral sundress you had bought for the occasion. Red lace greets him once the dress moves under his persistence, and his fingers trace the edges of the delicate fabric in admiration.

“You dress up all pretty for me, sweetheart?”

“Mhm.”

Lips repetitively press against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, slowly working their way up to your clothed core, and you squirm on the table, hips bucking slightly in anticipation. Searing heat engulfs your clit through the fabric, and the breath leaves your lungs as Jack moves his lips, biting gently at your clit and dragging the lace back with his teeth before letting it snap back into place. Dark eyes flick up to meet yours and then he’s smirking, fingers hooking into the waistband and jerking his head up to signal you to raise your hips and removing your underwear.

You watch him through hooded eyes, his large warm hands running back up your legs, and then he pushing at your thighs, spreading your legs and groaning lowly when his eyes land on your pussy.

“Prettiest fuckin’ thing.”

And then he moves, mouth greedily engulfing your clit and running his tongue over the sensitive nerve, fingers digging into your thighs as you moan quietly, hand flying to wind in his hair. He groans into your flesh, eyes closing and brows furrowing in concentration as he focuses all of his attention doing that fucking magical thing with his tongue that makes your eyes roll back into your head. You whine when he moves away from your clit, tongue diving into your pussy to taste the arousal gathering there, nose and moustache bumping against your clit as he eagerly buries his face against your folds.

“Fuck Jack,” your hands tug at his curls, hips shifting slightly against his mouth and head dropping back as he hums appreciatively against you, the sweet tang of you like honey on his tongue.

He breaks away with a quiet pant, diving right back to latch onto your clit, lips wrapping around it while his tongue rapidly rubs back and forth. Your thighs jump in his palms, and he winds his arms under your legs, sitting them softly on his shoulders and palms flattening against your hips, keeping you steady and anchored to his relentless mouth. Fire ignites in your stomach, toes curling in the high heels digging into his back. He doesn’t seem to notice, and if he does, he doesn’t seem to mind as he moves his head from side to side. You whine up to the ceiling, fist tightening around the tufts of soft hair wound between your fingers, pulling him impossibly closer to you, a low drawn out moan falling from your lips when he lets you buck against his mouth.

“Take what you want, baby.” He murmurs, dark hungry eyes finding yours.

The death grip on your legs eases up, and you start to move against his tongue with little grinds of your hips, keeping his head where you want it with the hand buried in his hair, heart fluttering wildly in your chest as he watches you closely from between your legs, watching the slight crease between your brows deepen, your mouth falling open in a silent cry. You bask in the heat quickly spreading over your body, muscles winding tighter and tighter with every delicious roll against his mouth. Your pussy clenches around nothing, desperate for something, anything, to fill it and help you over the edge.

“J-Jack – fuck… fingers –”

Two fingers immediately swirl around the entrance to your pussy, sliding in with zero resistance and curling deeply within you, moving in time with your hips and hitting that heavenly spot within you that has you seeing stars. Fucking Jesus, so good… so, so good –

He feels you on the edge, hears your breathing start to hitch and groans, eyes slipping closed as you work yourself faster and harder against his mouth, free hand unconsciously falling to rub at his clothed cock, rock hard and throbbing from the second he buried his tongue in your pussy.

“Yes, oh my g– Jack… fuck –” your chest heaves, the heat in your belly coming to an all time high and then you’re suspended in space for a brief second in time, floating and weightless, until you come crashing down, electric flooding your body and back arching against the table, coming with a loud cry. He feels your pussy clench down around his fingers, a flood of wetness catching his chin, and he can’t help the low groan he lets out against you. Your body jolts, spasming wildly as he greedily locks his lips around your clit and sucks until you’re pulling at his hair and begging for relief.

He pulls away, mouth and chin shining with your slick, and you watch through hazy eyes as he brings his soaked fingers to his mouth and sucks, eyes closing in bliss at the taste of your cum before opening and locking heatedly with yours. He stands, fingers tugging at the tie around his neck and ripping open the top buttons of his shirt, before he’s stepping closer, dragging the weeping head of his cock along through your folds and slapping it sharply against your clit. You cry out at the sting of overstimulation, cry turning into a moan when he does it again, and again, before he lines up with your entrance and buries himself in your pussy with one solid thrust.

“Fuck baby, you always take me so well.” He groans, head rolling on his shoulders as your walls flutter around him.

“Please –”

He stays still, eyes opening and gazing down at you, breathless and spaced out below him. “Please what? What do you want?”

“Move. Please, Jack – please… please fuck me –”

Fingers grip your chin, your pussy clenching in response, and he turns your head towards him.

“Look at my pretty girl,” he coos deeply, “asking so nicely. You want me to fuck you, baby?”

You nod pathetically, hands grabbing at whatever they could find, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and tugging him down towards you. He melts over you, wet lips meeting yours in a slow kiss, your mouth falling open the second his tongue probes softly at your lips. You moan at the taste of him, mixed with the tangy taste of your cum still hanging on his tongue. The fingers gripping your chin move, wrapping around the delicate skin of your throat and squeezing softly, his raspy chuckle filling your ears when he feels your pussy flutter around him again.

“You want it?”

“Please –” you choke out as he pulls halfway out before pushing back in languidly, eyes fixed to your face and the small twitch of your muscles as he lazily thrusts, slowly dragging his cock against your walls. “Jack,” you whine, frowning at the slow pace.

“I hear you, baby.”

And then he’s moving. Really moving.

His thrusts become faster, harder, hitting somewhere deep inside you that has your clawing at the table. You’re talking, incoherent words falling from your lips in a relentless wave as he pounds into you, the grip around your throat tightening as he curses quietly.

“God, you were made for me, darlin’. Your pussy’s so fuckin’ perfect, Christ –” his hips stutter and he mashes his teeth together, fighting the itch of release and quickening his thrusts, free hand moving to press down on your lower stomach to pin you in place. “Come on, baby. Give me one more, I know you can do it –” His thumb moves slightly lower, brushing over your clit in soft circles and setting fire to your nerves all over again. “Can you do that for me, baby? Can you give me one more?”

Whining softly, you nod hurriedly, brows furrowing as the coil winds tighter and tighter in your stomach. In a blinding flash, another wave of heat rushes over you and his hips stutter as you cum hard around him, hand moving from your throat to the tabletop next to your head to brace himself.

“Good girl, baby, you’re so good for me, so fuckin’ good, Jesus fuck –”

You feel the flood of heat as he comes, his cock shoved so deep you arch off the table with a whimper as he brushes your tender cervix. He collapses on top of you, the weight of his body comforting as you lift your heavy arms to wrap around him. You both lay boneless, panting and sweat running along your bodies. Jack lifts his head once he catches his breath, pressing a tender kiss to your lips which you try to return as sweetly as possible while being completely fucked out of your senses, and then he stands and gently drags his soft cock from your wrecked pussy. He watches his cum leak out of you, fingers swiping through the mess before bringing them to his mouth and sucking the cum from his skin with a low hum.

He grins, “Dinner was amazing – thank you, sweetheart.”

Tags: @anu-simps @seasonschange-butpeopledont @withasideofmeg @you-got-me-starry-eyed

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x you #kingsman: tgc #kingsman fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

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frannyzooey · 4 years ago

Note

pioneer frankie but make it a fourth of july celebration complete with a new dress, your daughter in a three legged race with her crush, frankie looking like a snacc in a wood chopping competition, and the promise of something more when you get home 👀 —jess

I cut the kid out of this one -- I was too focused on feral Frankie; oh god

Rating: Explicit

The afternoon is hotter than you thought it would be and while you are thankful for the light fabric of your dress and the way it leaves your shoulders exposed, you worry that you will be burned by the end of the day.

Still, a burn would be worth the sight in front of you right now: your husband, his fine collared shirt soaked down the middle of his back, the fabric dark with sweat where his suspenders press over it and you squirm in your seat on the wooden bench at the way his body is working right now; one in a row of men competing in log chopping contest.

Frankie’s hair is plastered against his brow, the dark locks curling in the heat around his head and you wish you could reach out and push it away from his eyes and to the side, a motion he frequently does while you watch.

His strong hands grip the axe tight, his forearms taut with tension, his broad shoulders straining under his shirt as he raises his arms with every swing, and you can see every muscle in his back through the thin material, the lean lines of them bunching and flexing. Glancing at the other ladies who sit around you, you notice more than a few of them looking at your husband and you feel a fierce pride in knowing that he is yours, that only you know what that back looks like under that shirt.

You can hear a soft grunt with every one of his hard swings downward and you press your thighs together under your petticoats at the similarity between the sound he is making right now and the sound he makes when he thrusts into you in your bed, or in the kitchen, or sometimes in the barn.

A few more solid chops and when his log splits cleanly in half, he turns to face you in his victory. Finding you in the crowd, he smiles, his brown eyes shining bright in the afternoon sun and you leap to your feet, clapping louder than anyone else in the stands.

His mouth is busy against yours when you find a shaded spot behind the general store for him to change and you are trying to get him to put a different shirt on, the other one soaked with sweat and now laying on the grass, but he ignores the clean one in your hand when he backs you into the wall of the building.

His flushed body is tight against yours, his mouth now moving along the hot skin of your exposed shoulder and you try to keep an eye out for people, resisting the urge to give into his covetous touches.

“Frankie”, you softly plead, tilting your head back into the hard siding, making room for him to press his mouth against your throat, “You should put this shirt on. I need to go out there – the pie contest is going to start any minute.”

He hums against your skin, his hands circling your waist before sliding down to rest on your hips and he is frustrated with how little he can feel right now, with your body covered in so many layers. Still, he can’t too mad with how beautiful you look today, the white fabric of the fancy new dress glowing in the sun and he felt proud to walk into town with you on his arms – he always does, but even more so when he saw other men admiring you from afar.

Pulling back, his strong arms now brace themselves on the building as he leans in to kiss you one last time and you smile into it, his mouth delicately catching against yours before you slide out from underneath him.

“Hurry up”, you softly scold, holding out the shirt and watching him take it. “I want to see the look on Harriet Oleson’s face when I beat her.”

Scraping the last bit of pie from his plate and spooning it into his mouth, you laugh at the way he is dramatic about it, his hum of contentment loud as he closes his eyes in relish.

“Delicious pie, blue-ribbon-winning Mrs. Morales”, he murmurs against your lips and you can taste the cherry syrup on his lips and on his tongue, when it brushes against yours.

“Thank you”, you say shyly, reaching to rub a spot of red from the corner of his mouth and he watches as you suck on your thumb, licking the sticky sugar off.

The other families surrounding you, their blankets spread over the grass as they unpack their picnic baskets and eat with a chatter, the two of you can’t be too bold; too many older and younger eyes present.

Still, it doesn’t stop Frankie’s eyes from lingering on the rounds of your shoulders, the line of your neck as you bend over the wicker picnic basket and he is thankful that the day is almost done, ready to be home alone with you; ready to get you out of that dress.

“Are you still hungry?”, you ask, pulling out a wrapped hunk of cheese and when he doesn’t answer you, you look up at him. He is hungry, his dark eyes watching you, but you can tell it’s not for something that you have packed in your basket.

“Would you like some more food?”, you clarify with a teasing lilt and his cheeks stretch with a smile at being caught out.

“No, thank you”, he answers, leaning back on his hands with a wink.

Finally you are home and in your bedroom, standing between his knees as he sits on the bed and his broad hands circle your waist again, only this time they can feel the soft give of your body, the heat of it leeching through your chemise.

He can see right through the thin material with the way the candles in the room light up the fabric and his gaze wanders over the weight of your breasts, the dark vee between your legs and he pulls you closer, sliding the tip his nose over the hardened bud of your nipple.

“Are you hungry, Francisco?”, you murmur softly, and he looks up at you; his eyes black in the dim room.

“Yes”, he breathes, already pulling your shift up and you help him, his hand now busy between your legs.

Dipping his fingers into you, he gathers your slick on the pads of them and brings them to his mouth; the same sound of relish from when he ate your pie earlier and hot slick gathers inside you at the sound. He drags his wet fingers back through your folds, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh when you plant your foot on the edge of the mattress next to him and when he pushes them inside of you, you curl into the touch, your fingers digging into the firm muscle of his shoulders.

The face you’re making right now was the one he thought of all day, from the moment he helped you put on your new dress, and his cock is resting heavy and hard between his thighs, the tip of it leaking at how wet you are, at the way your mouth has dropped open in a soft pant as you beg for more.

Sliding his fingers out of you, he lies back on the bed and you kneel between his legs, the sparse hair gliding under your palms as your hands gently push them open wider. He can feel the soft skin of your breasts brush against the inside of his thighs when you scoot close and he fists the bedding tight in his hand when you put him in your mouth, your tongue swirling wetly around the tip of him.

A salty spurt drips over your tongue when you keep going and you can feel the tension in his thighs as he flexes his hips off the bed, chasing the wet heat of your mouth. The saliva that drips past your lips helps your hand move smoothly over him and he begs you with a broken moan to please stop; please come up and sit on my face.

You crawl up, up, up until your thighs straddle his head and this is his favorite, when you rest the weight of your body on his face, when you let him lick into you like this. Opening your legs wider, you roll your hips over his mouth and his hands curl over the tops of your thighs, holding you tight in place when he laves at your cunt until you come.

He’s not done, he made you stop sucking on him so he could draw this out as long as possible and guiding you onto your back, he settles himself between your legs, his cock resting thick and blunt against your entrance before pushing in.

You cry out at the way it fills you, the tip of it stroking against something deep inside and his lips are warm and delicate against your shoulder when he tells you how good you feel, how wet you are, how tight.

“Did you want this when you watched me today?”, he asks you; the image of your face as he looked at you in the stands today filling his mind, his soft grunts filling the room, “Did you think about how much you wanted to fuck me?”

Yes, yes Frankie you moan, and he strokes into you harder, his grip on your hip and on the nape of your neck tightening.

“Tell me”, he groans, your cunt squeezing him tight at the sound, “Tell me how much you wanted it. How good it feels.”

“I wanted it”, your strained pleads making him ache. “All those women wanted to fuck you today, but they can’t, because you’re mine.”

“I am” he pants, “I am yours and only I --“, a loud groan when reach down to cup his ass, pulling him deeper, “ – only I get to fuck you like this; only I know how wet your cunt gets right before you come.”

You do it, your cunt flooding when you clench down on him and he almost comes too, but he catches himself just in time because that’s not what he wants. Stroking you through your release, he waits until you whimper with oversensitivity and then he pulls out of you, crawling up your body like you did earlier for him.

Bracing himself on the wooden beam of the bed frame with his knees sinking into the soft mattress, it only takes a few quick strokes until he comes – the milky liquid splashing on your chest, into the dip of your throat – and he groans in relief at finally doing what he’s wanted to do all day; the exposed skin over your neckline looking so soft and warm under the afternoon sun, tasting so sweet as he kissed it behind the general store.

His hot breath ghosts over your sweaty skin when he bends to dip his tongue into the puddle of it, licking it into his mouth and you push your fingers through his thick hair, brushing it back and to the side.

“You looked so beautiful today”, he mumbles against your chest, his mouth now moving down to draw the peak of your breast into it.

You smile at his sweet compliment, savoring the night breeze that is gently flowing in through the open window, the air cool against your hot skin. He kisses down your torso, his moustache a tickle against your belly, his teeth nipping at your hip before running the flat of his tongue over the bone and your legs drop open wider, giving him space between them.

You are tired, worn out from the hot day and the long walk into town and the demanding way Frankie loves you and your eyes are sliding shut when you watch the candle flicker before it goes out; Frankie’s mouth settling on you again.

See more Pioneer Frankie here!

#frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales/you #frankie morales/reader #pioneer frankie

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knuffled · 4 years ago

Text

Just Practice - Chapter 17

here’s the ao3 link

The hospital garden was nestled along the northern side of the building and overlooked a small pond. Perhaps it was too generous to call it a garden. In reality, it was only a few flower beds of orchids and lilacs stowed carefully in terracotta pots. When the weather was nice, the patients would often spend some time there on the benches to get some fresh air. It wasn’t much but it definitely beat being cooped up in a hospital room with that stale, sterilized air that always made her feel more like a laboratory specimen than a human being.

After her surgery, Annabeth was allowed to visit the garden provided she went in a wheelchair to avoid agitating her knee. The doctor’s initial diagnosis had proven to be accurate once they ran some imaging tests on her: it was, in fact, a torn ACL. Annabeth had suspected as much, and she opted to get it operated on sooner than later. The surgery had gone quite well, actually. She had been lucky enough to only suffer a partial tear, according to her doctor. If she had suffered a complete tear, it could have possibly made both surgery and her subsequent recovery much more difficult.

Nonetheless, Annabeth didn’t feel particularly lucky. Honestly, in the week that she spent at the hospital, she hardly felt anything at all. Just numb. Her physical therapy sessions were the only things she had to look forward to in order to get her mind off of things. Otherwise, she was mainly stuck confined to her bed with her leg suspended in that god awful brace. Piper had brought her some novels to occupy her time, but Annabeth couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to anything she read.

Today was the first day the weather had been clear enough to head outside, and Annabeth had jumped at the chance to get out of her stuffy hospital room as soon as she could. She sat outside staring at the pond with her brain turned off, watching ducks glide across the water’s surface and preen their feathers.

Within another day or two she would be discharged from the hospital and would have to head back home, but she really didn’t want to. Her father had dropped by the day after her injury, but his visit was practically a formality. He had stayed for all of five minutes, only making sure she wasn’t dead really, before he left. On top of every other shitty thing that had happened to her recently, his visit only served to rub salt in the wound.

Sometime mid-afternoon, one of the orderlies told her that she had a visitor. Annabeth had been expecting Piper or Jason, but she was surprised to see Reyna approach her instead.

Reyna gave her a small wave, her hand hidden in the sleeve of her purple sweatshirt. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Annabeth said, blinking. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Reyna shifted on her heels. “I’m not intruding am I?”

“Funnily enough, my schedule is quite free these days,” Annabeth said lightly.

That managed to get the corner of Reyna’s lips to tug upwards. “Glad to see your injury hasn’t done anything to change your god-awful sense of humor.”

“It’s quite bad mannered to bully the infirm, you know,” Annabeth sniffed.

Reyna rolled her eyes and sat down at the bench beside Annabeth. “How’s your leg doing?”

Annabeth sighed and said, “It’s recovering. Just got surgery done a few days ago.”

“Surgery?” Reyna frowned.

Annabeth nodded. “Turns out I tore my ACL.”

Reyna grimaced and said, “Jeez, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“The doctors said that I’m lucky it was only a partial tear,” Annabeth said, smiling weakly. “But I don’t feel particularly lucky.”

“D-Did they say anything about how long it’ll take for you to make a full recovery?” Reyna asked hesitantly.

“They were pretty wishy-washy about it,” Annabeth said, shrugging. “Guessing they don’t want to be liable for being wrong. Only estimate they gave me was that I could walk normally in about two weeks or so. After that, depends on how well I respond to physical therapy.”

Reyna was silent for a while before she said, “Meet me at the college circuit someday. I’ll be waiting there for you. And then we can finally settle things.”

Annabeth picked at the hem of her shirt with a wan smile. “What’s there to settle? I haven’t beat you a single time. There’s a clear winner here, and it sure isn’t me.”

“You of all people should know you’re only as good as your last race,” Reyna said. “People in our sport can never afford to rest on their laurels.”

When Annabeth was silent, Reyna quietly said, “You look like you’ve already given up.”

Reyna’s words stung and made Annabeth recoil. “I’m sick of giving myself false hope.”

“The way I see it, hope has nothing to do with it. The only question is if you still want to try. If you still want to compete, then you’ll keep pushing until you find a way through,” Reyna said, shrugging.

“Now, I’m not here to tell you whether you should keep going or not. That’s up to you. But don’t hide behind hope as an excuse. If you want to stop, then own it.”

Annabeth stared at her lap for a while and said, “I- I don’t know. I need more time to think about it.”

Reyna nodded and said, “I don’t blame you. It’s a big decision.”

There was another pause before Annabeth cleared her throat and said, “I never got a chance to apologize. For what happened at the meet, I mean.”

Reyna furrowed her brow. “What is there to apologize for?”

Annabeth dug her fingernails into her palms. “I cost you the race. If it weren’t for me, you would have won state and placed nationally.”

“From what I recall, a certain someone was screaming at me to let her go because I was, and I quote, ‘throwing the fucking race’,” Reyna said dryly.

“Sorry about that,” Annabeth mumbled.

Reyna gave her a smile and said, “You have nothing to blame yourself for, Annabeth. It was my choice to stay and help you.”

A lump formed in Annabeth’s throat. “But why though? Why did you help me?”

“I already told you,” Reyna said, mock-exasperatedly. “Because we’re friends.”

“And that was enough of a reason?”

“There are more important things than high school cross country races, Annabeth,” Reyna said simply.

Annabeth bit her lower lip and struggled to wrap her head around Reyna’s answer. They were friends, but not so close that it made sense for her to abandon the championship for her sake. Maybe Reyna was just like that with people she deemed friends or perhaps it was just a decision made in the heat of the moment.

“And you don’t resent me or anything for it?” Annabeth asked.

“Not one bit,” Reyna said firmly. “I would do it again if I had to. I’m sure you would have done the same for me.”

“You think too highly of me,” Annabeth said quietly. “But thank you.”

Reyna raised an eyebrow and said, “So you would have left me lying in the mud with a fucked up leg just to a win a race then?”

Annabeth paused and said, “Well, when you put it that way, I suppose not.”

“See? Told you: there are more important things,” Reyna said, smiling. “Besides, I don’t want you using your injury as an excuse for when I inevitably kick your ass.”

That got a watery laugh out of Annabeth. “I’m just glad you don’t hate me.”

Reyna rolled her eyes fondly. “Of course not.”

Annabeth hid a smile and stared up at the clear, blue sky for a while before something occurred to her. “How did you know where to find me?”

“Percy told me,” Reyna said, shrugging.

Annabeth furrowed her brow and said, “You have his number?”

“No, we just happened to run into each other somewhere, and I got a chance to ask him.”

Annabeth’s heart beat faster in her chest. “D-Did he say anything else to you?”

Reyna shook her head. “No, but he looked like a mess though. Did something happen?”

Annabeth nodded and felt a lump form in her throat. Slowly, she told Reyna about everything that had unfolded after she had left her with Percy. Reyna listened quietly and intently the entire time that Annabeth spoke, but Annabeth couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

Annabeth finished by saying, “I know I shouldn’t have cornered him like that just because I was so angry about my knee, especially the whole confession thing, but at the same time, I can’t help being frustrated that he still refused to open up, right to the very end.”

When Reyna was silent, Annabeth looked at her and said, “You once said that you thought he lied all the time about how he felt and what he wanted. Is this what you meant?”

“Not exactly,” Reyna admitted. “I thought it was something more malicious, but after seeing how he is around you, it’s obvious how much he cares for you.”

“If he does,” Annabeth said softly, “it’s not in a way that I understand.”

“You’re not alone in feeling that way, I would imagine,” Reyna said. “We all have different ideas of what it means to love and be loved, and sometimes those ideas don’t match up.”

“And there’s nothing we can do about that then?” Annabeth asked.

Reyna shook her head. “No, it just means you both need to talk to about your needs. It’s not wrong to teach someone how to love you the way you need them to.”

“I would if he bothered to listen,” Annabeth said tersely.

“Really? From what you’ve told me about him, he seems to listen to you a great deal,” Reyna said, sounding surprised.

Annabeth worried her lower lip and hesitantly said, “I mean, yeah, I guess that’s accurate. But there’s still something that gets in the way, and I don’t know what it is.”

“I said this before, but it seems like he’s holding something back,” Reyna said. “Not in the way one hides secrets, but in the way you shoulder a burden, quietly and without complaint. Maybe it’s just that over time that weight has become too much to bear.”

Reyna’s words instantly struck a chord in her, even though she hadn’t fully processed them yet.

A wry smile danced on Reyna’s lips. “Reminds me a lot of my sister. Something about how sad their eyes look.”

Annabeth blinked in surprise - she had always pegged Reyna as an only child. “Wait, you have a sister?”

Reyna nodded and said, “Yeah, seven years older than me. Her name’s Hylla.”

She looked like she had more to say, so Annabeth remained silent and watched her. Reyna buried her hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt and stared up at the sky with a sigh.

“My dad was a physically abusive piece of shit growing up, so much so that my mother left him. Unfortunately, she didn’t bother to take us with her, for whatever reason, so we had to fend for ourselves. As the older sibling, Hylla took it upon herself to protect me until she was old enough to move out and take me with her,” Reyna said.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Annabeth said quietly.

“It’s whatever. We’re fine now, for the most part,” Reyna said, shrugging. “But sometimes I can tell that it still eats at Hylla. It wouldn’t be that big a deal, but she has a hard time opening up or putting herself first. Over the years, I’ve tried my best to help her through it, but it’s something she still struggles with.”

“Eventually, I realized that there was really nothing I could do,” Reyna said, pursing her lips. “So instead I swore to myself that I would be open and straight-forward about everything, in the hopes that maybe if I could show her there was another way, it might change something. And who knows, maybe it’s all for nothing, but at least I am being true to myself and honest about what I want.”

Reyna traced the lines on her palm and swallowed thickly. “But it’s really tough. People think it’s easy and assume nothing scares me but they’re wrong. I’m terrified, like all the time, but seeing how much it tears away at my sister, keeping everything locked up inside, I— I don’t ever want to live that way.”

“I think you’re amazing,” Annabeth said softly. “I can’t begin to imagine how much courage that takes.”

Reyna gave her a smile and said, “Thanks. That means a lot.”

Annabeth shook her head. “I should be the one thanking you, for sharing all of this.”

“It’s no problem. I only brought it up because your situation reminded me of my sister and I. Maybe I’m totally off base about that, I don’t know,” Reyna said.

“No, um, it was definitely helpful,” Annabeth said.

Reyna took Annabeth’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “You still look conflicted.”

Annabeth laughed breathlessly and shrugged. “I-I don’t know. I guess I’m still having a hard time accepting that we’re even in this situation. It just hurts to find out that I didn’t know him anywhere near as well as I thought I did.”

“Why does that have to hurt?” Reyna asked. “What is it that troubles you so much?”

Annabeth had to pause and really think about Reyna’s question because nothing immediately came to mind. It was only now that she realized that it was actually kind of strange that she was so distraught about this to begin with. It wasn’t like there was anything particularly awful about the situation. After all, this sort of thing was totally common, but it still seemed to profoundly unsettle her all the same. She was just having a hard time understanding why that was the case.

“It’s hard to say,” Annabeth admitted. “I think it’s because Percy’s the only person in my life that I have ever truly been able to rely on, and finding out that I don’t fully know him scares me. If I don’t know him, utterly and completely, then how can I count on him? It just makes me feel really insecure, like this is all a house of cards that could come tumbling down at any moment.”

Reyna sighed and said, “I don’t know. I just think knowing someone is a pretty impossible standard to set for yourself.”

Annabeth furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, in my experience, a person isn’t something to be known like a fact in a book,” Reyna said. “The human heart isn’t something quite so definitive. A person is always ever in the process of unraveling, constantly revealing themselves moment by moment, piece by piece. None of us ever really knows one another, but that doesn’t really matter. What matters is the effort we make to know one another, not whether we succeed. That’s all that love is: finding someone that you make the effort to know, to discover and rediscover, over and over again. And they do the same for you.”

“But then how can we ever trust anyone?” Annabeth asked desperately.

“You take a leap of faith,” Reyna said simply. “I wish I could say there was some trick to never having your trust broken but that’s not possible. Trust, by its very nature, is a brittle thing, but that’s also what makes it worth anything. The only reason trust holds any value at all is because it is something that needs to be earned.”

Reyna’s words made Annabeth recall what Percy had told her atop Aspen Peak. She hadn’t fully understood what he had meant at the time, but now she realized that there was a power to vulnerability that she didn’t know existed. It was a paradox but only by opening herself to heartbreak could she ever find what she was looking for: something permanent.

Annabeth managed a half-smile and said, “Percy told me it was like letting someone touch your heart with their hands and praying they didn’t crush it between their fingers, but that it was something we needed to do anyways.”

“That’s a pretty good way to put it,” Reyna laughed.

Annabeth sighed and said, “Would be nice if relationships weren’t so fucking complicated.”

“Agreed,” Reyna said, yawning. “I should probably get going. It’s getting late.”

Annabeth nodded. “Thanks again for visiting me and for the advice. It was really helpful.”

“And thank you for listening,” Reyna said, smiling.

“I hope someday I’ll be able to live as strongly as you do,” Annabeth said.

“You already live that way,” Reyna said, shrugging. “You just doubt yourself too much.”

Annabeth worried her lower lip and nodded. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

Reyna offered one final smile and said, “Guess I’ll head out then. Keep me posted about your leg and everything. When you can walk, we should hit up the batting cages again. Take your mind off things.”

“I’d like that,” Annabeth smiled.

“See you later, Annabeth.”

“You too, Reyna.”

Annabeth watched and waited for Reyna to leave before she sighed and headed back inside the hospital herself. She felt lighter for the first time in weeks. Reyna’s advice stuck in the back of her mind, and Annabeth took some time to digest it. She had a feeling it would help her figure out her path going forward.

:::

Piper came to pick her up on the day she was discharged from the hospital. By then, Annabeth could walk with the help of a brace that helped keep most of her weight off her knee, but she could only walk for a few minutes or so at most before the strain piled up and became too much. Piper leaned against the side of her car and watched Annabeth hobble over before she rushed in and gave Annabeth a hug.

“Didn’t realize you were so happy to see me,” Annabeth joked.

“Shut up,” Piper mumbled against her skin. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”

Annabeth swallowed thickly and whispered, “Thanks, Pipes.”

Piper pulled away and offered a gentle smile. “Ready to go then?”

“Yep.”

Piper opened the passenger’s side door for Annabeth and waited for Annabeth to take a seat before she did so as well. Annabeth rolled down the windows and relished in the late April breeze when it flowed across her face. Piper started the car and turned the radio on before she pulled out of the hospital parking lot and onto the interstate.

Once they were on their way, Annabeth turned to Piper and said, “You’re still okay with me staying with you right? I complete get if that’s not an option anymore.”

“No, you’re totally fine,” Piper assured her. “It’ll be nice to have some company. Besides, my place is too fucking big for only one person.”

“Your dad’s still away on a shoot then?” Annabeth asked.

Piper shrugged. “Probably. Didn’t bother asking.”

Annabeth nodded slowly and turned back to the window, but Piper looked at her and said, “Your parents aren’t going to flip out about this right?”

“Oh, I’m sure Helen will kick up a fuss, but that’s kind of par for the course,” Annabeth said.

“I’m all for it and everything, but have you really thought this through? I mean, leaving your family is a huge decision,” Piper said.

Annabeth gave her a significant look and said, “In all the time you’ve known me, when have I ever not thought things through?”

“Alright, fair point,” Piper admitted. “I’m still worried though.”

“I was going to have to leave for college anyways. This is basically only moving up the schedule. Besides, I’m pretty sure they’ll be glad to finally see me gone,” Annabeth said.

Piper grimaced and nodded. “I wish you didn’t have to go through all this. Especially now, with your leg and all.”

“It is what it is,” Annabeth said, shrugging.

They drove along in silence for a while before Piper glanced at her again and said, “I, uh, wanted to ask you about something unrelated.”

“Fire away.”

“I’m not sure if you know anything, but Percy has been acting really strange lately,” Piper said. “I’ve tried asking him about it, but he just smiles and says that it’s nothing.”

Annabeth sighed. She had been expecting this, but it was still rough now that it was finally here. Slowly, Annabeth began to explain the whole fake dating arrangement from the start of the school year and everything that had happened since then, culminating in their confrontation after her injury. Piper didn’t say so much as word, but Annabeth noticed the way her fingers tightened around the steering wheel so hard they drained of blood.

When she was done, Annabeth watched Piper with bated breath, waiting for the worst. Piper just exhaled forcefully and said, “Christ, what a mess.”

“I know,” Annabeth said mildly.

“So this whole time, you guys weren’t actually dating then? You were just lying about it?”

Annabeth hung her head and said, “Yeah, pretty much.”

Piper was quiet for a moment before she shook her head incredulously. “I mean, I knew something was up with how jittery you were about the whole dating thing, but I never expected this.”

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” Annabeth said. “I was afraid you’d be mad at me.”

“Oh, I am mad at you. Furious, actually. But I’m equally as frustrated with Percy. As bad an idea as it was on your part, he should never have accepted. He knows better,” Piper said, fuming. “A pair of idiots, the both of you. What were you both thinking?”

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth said.

“Well, what’s done is done, I guess,” Piper sighed. “Honestly, maybe this what the both of you needed. Maybe now you’ll finally sort out your relationship.”

“Or maybe this is the end of it for good,” Annabeth said wryly.

“Love the optimism, babe.”

Annabeth huffed a laugh and said, “I’ll try my best to fix this, but I don’t know if I can.”

Piper was quiet for a while before she said, “Give it another shot. Maybe things will be different now that he’s had time to think about all this on his own too.”

“Yeah, you might be right,” Annabeth said.

There was another pause before Annabeth said, “You’re not gonna rescind your offer to let me crash with you, right?”

Piper snorted and said, “I have half a mind to, but I won’t. As stupid as you are, you’re still my best friend, and I’m not going to turn my back on you.”

“I don’t appreciate the insult, but thank you,” Annabeth said, smiling.

Piper glanced at her and jabbed her with her elbow. “Don’t look so happy with yourself or I might change my mind.”

“What, I’m not allowed to be happy that you called me your best friend?” Annabeth asked innocently.

Piper rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t try and schmooze your way out of this, you know what you’ve done. Especially, after that whole spiel about how you always think things through too.”

They pulled up in front of Annabeth’s house, and the brief levity in the air dissipated immediately. Annabeth set her jaw and took a deep breath, but her heart still beat faster in her chest anyways. Piper gave her a look of concern and squeezed her forearm.

“You sure you don’t want me to come with?” Piper whispered.

Annabeth shook her head. “No, this is something I need to do alone.”

Piper nodded but she still looked worried as Annabeth steadied herself and stepped out of the car. She hobbled to the front door and stepped inside with the spare key hidden beneath the flower pot. It was quiet inside the house, but the cars were still in the driveway so her father and step-mother had to be home. Annabeth pursed her lips and made her way upstairs to her room.

There was a suitcase hidden in her closet, and she pulled it out and opened it on the floor of her bedroom. She packed as many clothes as she could inside and stuffed her laptop, charger, phone charger, and water bottle inside her backpack. Once she was satisfied that she had everything prepared, she sat on her bed with a sigh.

Annabeth took a look around the room and felt a sudden rush of nostalgia wash over her. This was probably the last time she would ever come here, she mused. It was littered with all sorts of knick knacks and photos, posters and sketches. As much as she hated living in this house, this was the only place she could call her own. Leaving it almost felt like killing a part of herself off. Her step-mother would turn it into a storage room or something once she was gone, and soon there would be no trace that she had ever lived here. Something about that hurt, even though Annabeth knew it was for the best.

She stood up, feeling more than a little melancholy, and steeled her heart. There was still one last thing she needed to do. Annabeth put her luggage in the hallway and tentatively stepped into her father’s study. Thankfully, he wasn’t there. She riffled through the drawers of his desk in search of the old brown briefcase he stashed old letters in. It was always weird to her that he just kept letters, but he said he liked to have records in case companies tried to swindle him out of money. It was hidden away in some dark corner, and she dumped the contents onto the carpet.

There were hundreds of envelopes so it took her some time to sift through them all, but a few minutes later Annabeth’s worst fears were confirmed. There was an unopened letter addressed to her from Berkeley, dated October 4th.

That wasn’t the worst of it however.

There was another letter from Stanford. Northwestern. Duke. Cornell. Dartmouth. All dated from late September to early October. All unopened.

Annabeth had always felt something off about the fact that her Berkeley letter never reached her. She had dismissed it as a fluke but during her stay at the hospital it occurred to her that there could have been a more malevolent explanation. Seeing the letters now only confirmed her worst suspicions, but the sense of betrayal still hit her harder than she had anticipated.

She snatched the letters and stormed downstairs, as quickly as she could with her brace. Her father and step-mother were in the living room watching the news.

Helen blinked in surprise and said, “Annabeth? I didn’t know you were home from the hospital.”

Annabeth ignored her and held up the envelopes, her hands trembling. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific, dear,” Helen said mildly.

“These are college letters. Addressed to me. Why did no one tell me?” Annabeth asked.

Helen shrugged and said, “I didn’t think they were important.”

Her excuse was so bad, it actually made Annabeth’s head hurt. “How could you not think that those might be important to your step-daughter, a senior in high school?”

A gleam of irritation flashed in Helen’s eyes. “You have been getting letters since junior year, and they always just asked you to apply, so I thought these were more of the same.”

“Let’s pretend for a moment that your terrible excuse is valid - you still should have shown me these,” Annabeth said.

“You’re still a child. Talk to your parents with respect,” Helen snapped.

Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest. “You literally lost me the chance to go to fucking Stanford, so you’ll have to forgive me for not having much respect for you.”

“Annabeth,” her father warned.

The smart thing to do would have been to drop it then and there. Nothing good could have come of this. The damage was already done. Continuing this would only make things worse.

Annabeth knew all this, but at that moment, she was filled with such uncontrolled rage, rage that had been built upon years upon years of horrid treatment from Helen and her father who couldn’t be bothered to care about the fact that his new wife routinely emotionally abused his first-born daughter, that she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

“She fucking knew this was important and she hid these from me anyways,” Annabeth snapped. “She’s so insecure about that fact that I’m more intelligent than her kids that she has to sabotage me.”

“Annabeth, that’s enough,” her father said sharply.

Annabeth turned to him and balled her hands in fists. “And you! You never say anything. You just let her treat me like absolute dogshit, and you don’t even care.”

“Young lady, you are so disrespectful that it honestly blows my mind,” Helen said coldly. “How you can accuse me of treating you poorly when you never bother to interact with the family and treat us like strangers is beyond me.”

“That’s rich coming from the person who couldn’t be bothered to visit her step-daughter once in the hospital,” Annabeth snorted.

A vein bulged on Helen’s forehead, and Annabeth knew she had her. “The reason I do my best to stay out of the house isn’t rocket science. From day one, you have done absolutely everything you can to make me feel unwelcome in this family-”

“Let me tell you something that you don’t seem to understand: no one is ruining your life, dear,” Helen interrupted. “You ruin things yourself and blame everyone else for it instead. You are just an ungrateful, spiteful little girl that does nothing but cause people pain.”

Annabeth stiffened like she’d been hit in the face with a shovel. Her thoughts turned to radio static and her chest squeezed so painfully that it was hard for her to breathe.

No words came to her.

Without meaning to, she turned to her father.

“D-Dad?” Annabeth asked, her voice cracking.

Annabeth wasn’t even sure what she was asking for, just that at that moment, she felt very much like she was seven years old again, asking him to check for monsters hiding in the closet. Back then she had taken it for granted that he would help her, that he would keep her safe. Suddenly, it made sense why she kept looking to him whenever Helen tormented her, even though she knew he would never come to her aid. She thought she had abandoned that hope a long time ago, but now Annabeth realized some small part of her had still held on to it, like someone tending to a dying flame.

Still, there was nothing that could prepare her for the silence in the living room at that moment as her father simply sat there, his lips pressed in a hard line, still not looking at her.

Annabeth forced herself to take a deep breath. She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t going to let Helen win this.

No, instead, Annabeth turned to her father and offered him a strained smile. “Since it is apparent that you aren’t going to say anything on my behalf, like always, I just wanted to tell you a few things before I left. And yes, I am leaving. I’m done living in this house, which should delight the both of you. I don’t know that would even worry you, but rest assured: I’ll figure things out on my own, like I always have.”

When Helen bristled at the accusation, Annabeth offered her a smile like poisoned honey and said, “Before you open your mouth, feel free to shut the fuck up. I’m talking to my father right now.”

Helen went red, but Annabeth stared her down, begging her to say something. Helen glanced at her father, but for whatever reason, he didn’t come to her aid this time. She shook her head incredulously and left the living room, leaving Annabeth alone with her father.

When she was gone, he looked at Annabeth for the first time and said, “You went too far.”

“I honestly don’t give a shit,” Annabeth said simply.

Her father opened his mouth to chastise her, undoubtedly, but Annabeth bulldozed on through.

“Don’t bother to defend her. I’ll be gone in a few minutes anyways, and then it won’t matter since you’ll never have to see me again. But until then, you are going to shut up and listen to me,” Annabeth said.

Her father pressed his mouth in a thin line, which Annabeth took as permission to keep going.

“I don’t know when or how things went so wrong between us. I still remember how it used to be, back when mom was still around,” Annabeth started.

“She’s gone, Annabeth,” he interrupted.

“Yeah, I fucking know, but you don’t seem to realize you weren’t the only one she left behind,” Annabeth yelled.

“She left me, too, you know? And you have punished me for that, every day since she left,” Annabeth said, her voice cracking.

Annabeth steadied herself before she got too emotional and shook her head. “But I want you to know something - I am proud to be my mother’s daughter. Despite your best efforts to make me feel otherwise, I will not apologize for that, for being here, for existing. And I’m done looking to you for help or safety or even acknowledgement given you’ve long since proven to be utterly incapable of that. And I want you to know that someday I’ll find people who love and accept me, and I won’t ever have to spare a second of my life thinking about you and how you made me feel. Someday, I’ll heal and you’ll be nothing more than a bad memory.”

With that, Annabeth left to retrieve her luggage from the hallway before he could respond and left the house for good. Piper was pacing around her car and rushed over to her once she heard the door open and threw her arms around her.

“Are you okay?” Piper asked. “It sounded pretty bad in there.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, nodding. “I finally let go of something I should have a long time ago.”

Piper studied her for a moment before nodding to herself. “Alright, looks like that’s settled then. Let’s go get something to eat!”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “You’re dropping it, just like that?”

“You look like you’ve got it figured out on your own,” Piper said, shrugging. “Besides, I can tell this is something I can’t really help you with anyways.”

Annabeth smiled despite herself and shook her head. “I never thought the day would come when Piper McLean would know when to let sleeping dogs lie.”

Piper rolled her eyes and stashed her luggage in her car trunk. “Don’t make me change my mind about letting you stay.”

“That’s an empty threat if I’ve ever heard one,” Annabeth said, sliding into the passenger seat.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” Piper muttered.

“But seriously though,” Annabeth said, clearing her throat. “Thank you. For everything. It means more to me than I can say.”

“You’re welcome,” Piper said softly. “I’m happy for you. Leaving that hellhole was a long time coming. You definitely made the right call.”

“What happened to all the asking me if I was sure about it and stuff?” Annabeth asked.

“I’ve always wanted you to leave. I just didn’t want to influence your decision,” Piper said.

Annabeth was quiet for a moment and said, “You’re actually a really good friend, huh?”

Piper gave her a cheeky grin and started the car. “I’m offended that it took you so long to notice.”

#knuffled fic #just practice #percabeth fic #percabeth fluff #percabeth angst #annabeth chase #percy jackson

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