#I shall walk there because anxiety | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slashmagpie · 2 days ago

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Break Like an Artist

My fic for @hermitadaymay's Solstice Social Collaborative Fanwork Event! I was paired up with the wonderful @eydilily to create something spooky, dramatic and contemplative featuring Gem and Pearl, and it's been an absolute blast putting this together. Please go check out Eydi's art for this AU, it's absolutely gorgeous. CWs: description of a corpse, dismemberment, loss of awareness, fire/flooding/destruction, and depiction of a panic attack. Wordcount: 5.8k

There is a plague sweeping Pearl's hometown.

One by one, she watches as her friends fall to the infection, the colour and life drained out of them and leaving hollow, apathetic husks behind. Even with the devastating loss of her friends, her village, and her regular life, the worst part of this situation is not the infection.

It's that Pearl knows that Gem is the one spreading it.

[Read on AO3]

It’s a grey day in the fishing village that Pearl calls her home. Not that it’s ever not a grey day, at least not anymore. She stares out of her window at the thick encompassing fog that’s claimed the bay, at the desaturated buildings that dot the shore, and she twirls her paintbrush in her fingers.

The canvas is blank, of course. She doesn’t remember the last time she sat down to paint and didn’t end up with a blank canvas. It must have been—months ago, at least. Back when the last monster from the depths had attacked, and not a single person had had the heart to fight back. When Tango’s house had been shattered in two, and Tango with it.

(He seems to be dealing well with the loss of his arm, at least. Or, as well as you can deal with anything, when the only things inside of you are all-consuming numbness and apathy. Pearl feels it in her chest, the yawning emptiness, and thinks that if she were to lose her arm right here and now, she also wouldn’t be able to summon the energy to care.)

She’d painted after that, though. She remembers it vividly, waking from a nightmare and running to her studio to capture lashing tentacles and inky waters and splatters of crimson blood. It’s a frenzied piece, a disturbing piece, and the moment she’d finished it she’d been filled with so much dread that she’d turned it around to face the wall and refused to look at it since.

The dread’s gone now. Along with the anxiety, and the uncertainty, and the fear. It’s all gone, and Pearl’s left sitting here, paints drying on the palette as she stares at an empty canvas.

Across the house, she hears her front door swing open and closed. A familiar voice shouts, “Pearl? Pearl, where are you?”

“Studio,” Pearl calls back, her voice flat. She continues to twirl the paintbrush as she waits for Gem to trek her way across the house to find her.

“Studio,” Gem echoes as she pushes open the door. “Oh, Pearl, are you painting again? Oh, I’m so happy for—oh.” The joy in her voice vanishes as she takes in Pearl, sitting on her stool, paintbrush raised and canvas empty. “Oh, Pearl…”

Sympathy. Pity. Concern. Pearl can pick apart the emotions in Gem’s voice, even if she can’t feel them herself. She stares back blankly, because she can’t find it in herself to care about either aspect of the situation, whether it be her own inability to paint or the way that Gem’s looking at her like she’s a wounded animal.

“Come on,” Gem says softly, crossing the room and gently prying the brush from Pearl’s fingers. Pearl lets her. She’s not really painting, anyway. “Let’s get you to bed, shall we? A nap will do you some good.”

Pearl lets Gem help her up, lets Gem allow Pearl to lean on her for support as they make their way back to Pearl’s bedroom. It’s not like Pearl has any difficulty walking. She’s not sick, she’s not injured, she’s just…

Cold. Empty. Not quite lifeless, not in the way Mumbo had been when she’d last seen him, skin and eyes and hair all the same shade of grey-white-nothingness as he’d stared into the distance, completely unresponsive. Listless, maybe, is the better word. She’s halfway to a fate worse than death and she cannot find it in her to care at all.

She feels colder where Gem touches her. She looks down, and she’s not sure if it’s her eyes playing tricks on her, or if her skin is more desaturated where it brushes against Gem’s. She lets Gem help her into bed, lets Gem fluff the pillows and fuss around her, lets Gem sit next to her as she hands Pearl a bowl of soup (“Your favourite!”) and watches her to make sure she eats.

If Pearl were more herself, she would care about what Gem’s doing to her. Care enough to stop it, maybe. Care enough to—no, not to confront her. Every time she’d tried, the words had gotten stuck in her throat. Because she’s known for a long time who’s been behind all of this, behind the corruption leeching all colour from their village, their home, their friends—

And she’d never said anything. Too worried about Gem’s feelings. Too worried about their friendship.

…Pearl realises, as Gem goes to take the empty bowl and brushes her hands against Pearl’s, that she’s not worried anymore.

She waits quietly as Gem washes the bowl in her kitchen, chattering to fill the silence as she does, updating Pearl on their friends’ conditions. Her tone is bright and optimistic, even as her words are dour. Scar seems to be doing the same. Grian’s getting worse. Joel’s down to communicating only in broken phrases—but he should be fine. It definitely won’t be like Mumbo, or Cub, or…

Gem returns to Pearl’s room, regarding her for a long moment before bending down to give her a hug. “Get better soon, okay?” she says into Pearl’s ear. “It’s not the same doing my rounds without you.”

Pearl knows that she’s not getting better. So does Gem, so Pearl doesn’t bother pointing it out. She just nods, lets Gem withdraw, lets Gem run one last hand through her hair.

“You should rest, Pearl,” Gem says, stepping away from Pearl’s bedside. “I’m going to go check on Impy now—”

Pearl’s moving before she’s even properly registered it, grabbing onto Gem’s wrist with force, holding her in place. Gem freezes. Pearl looks up at her through strands of greasy, greying hair.

“Gem,” she says, and it’s the first thing she’s said in days, and her voice is hoarse and her throat sore from the strain.

“...Pearl?” Gem replies, and she sounds almost scared.

“Gem,” Pearl repeats, getting used to the sound of her own voice in her mouth again. “I know.”

Gem laughs. It’s a nervous, tittering sound, the laugh Pearl remembers from when they’d gotten into trouble together as kids. “Know what?” she asks, voice strained.

“That it’s you,” Pearl says flatly.

Gem stares at her.

Pearl stares back.

Gem swallows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says. “Pearl—”

“I know you’re the one doing this to us,” Pearl says, more specific this time, choosing her words carefully, and Gem—

Gem tries to pull away.

Pearl tightens her grip.

“Pearl,” Gem whines, eyes wide, tugging. “Let me go—”

“Why?” Pearl croaks, and Gem snaps her mouth shut.

---

Pearl’s in the midst of mixing a particularly tricky shade of green when there’s a loud, frantic knock on her front door. She sighs, setting down her brush to rest, and gets to her feet. “I’m coming, I’m coming, hold on!” she calls as the knocks continue, echoing through the house.

She pulls the door open and Tango’s there, a nervous ball of energy, just about ready to bolt. “Pearl!” he calls. “Pearl, come on, we gotta go—”

He grabs her by the arm and drags her off. Pearl just barely manages to close her front door behind her.

“Wha—? Where are we going? What’s going on?”

“Something washed up on shore,” Tango explains. “The whole town’s there, c’mon.”

Accepting that she’s not going to get an explanation out of him, and now deeply curious about this something, she lets Tango lead her down to the shore by the lighthouse. Sure enough, the whole town is there, a chattering crowd gathered around a spot on the shore that Pearl can’t quite see. Impulse is standing on the edge of the crowd and catches sight of them, raising his arm in a wave. Tango makes a beeline towards him, ducking under the crowd, and Pearl follows behind, apologising to False and Keralis as she bumps into them.

“Did you decide what to do with it yet?” Tango asks as he comes to a halt and finally lets Pearl go.

Impulse shakes his head. “We’ve decided it’s Gem’s call,” he says. “After all, she’s the—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence as the crowd suddenly goes silent and parts for Gem, her hair wild and eyes wide behind her thick-rimmed glasses. She’s got her lab coat pulled on over her day clothes, clearly not prepared for this in the slightest. She reaches the front of the crowd and stops dead still, staring at the thing that has washed up on the shore.

Pearl follows her friend’s gaze, and sees it for the first time.

It’s a body. Of course it is. A corpse, taken by the sea and ravaged by the waves and washed ashore by the brutal bay currents. The body’s clothes are torn and sodden, the skin beneath so pale that it could practically be paper. Pearl is stricken, for a moment, with the mental image of her taking a brush to this canvas, filling it back in with colour, painting contours back into its skin, breathing life back into the body.

She shakes her head violently, banishing the thought. Where did that come from? This isn’t a canvas, it’s—

It’s a person. A person who was alive, and is now dead, washed up on the beach like a dead whale and just as much of a spectacle. His eyes are open but rolled back, only the whites showing, and his hair is white too, just as pale as his skin. It stands as sharp contrast against the dark fabric of his torn clothes, a mask wrapped around the bottom half of his face.

Pearl swallows hard and averts her gaze back to Gem, who looks just as disturbed by the body as Pearl feels. It takes Gem longer to pull her eyes away, to glance around the crowd. “I’ll—I’ll take it back to my lab,” she says. “Investigate, and—and give him a proper burial.”

The words reassure the crowd, a low chatter beginning up again.

“Skizz, will you help me carry him?” Gem calls.

Skizz does, stepping forward from the crowd and helping Gem maneuver the bloated corpse. Pearl finds herself looking at it again, noticing dark striations in the skin, caught in glimpses between the tears in the clothing as it’s moved.

She shakes her head again, forces herself to look away as the body is carried out and the crowd disperses. The image of the body lingers in her mind. Something settles uncomfortably in her stomach, and she wishes that she’d never opened the door.

---

Things go back to normal after that. Or, well, as normal as they get in the village, at least. False monitors the currents and warns of any incoming floods or monster attacks. Impulse and Tango work maintenance on the fishing boats that Grian and Skizz and Keralis take out into the bay. Mumbo runs the fish market. Cub and Scar come and go along the trading routes. Joel maintains security, or at least the illusion of it.

Gem hides away in her lab running experiments she never explains, and Pearl paints.

She tries to return to her usual fare, brightly-coloured landscapes with fantastical features, but something about her paintings rings hollow when she looks at them. She decides she needs a change, to switch things up and just relax, so she pulls out her paints and a blank canvas and begins with no intentions. Her movements are fluid and free and thoughtless and she falls into a flow state that lasts hours, until she blinks her eyes and awakes to find a portrait before her, a colourless face in full saturation.

The corpse’s visage, so alive she can’t believe it’s not breathing, stares back at her from her easel, and Pearl flinches like she’s been burned.

She hides that painting away, face turned towards the wall, and returns to painting landscapes. They come easier now, and for a time Pearl feels normal, as long as she ignores the canvas in the corner.

It’s Impulse who notices that there’s something wrong first. It’s not surprising that he’d be the first to pick up on it, really. Skizz is his best friend, after all. Of course he’d notice when Skizz stopped laughing, stopped joking, stopped drumming out tunes with his fingers on the side of his boat. And when Pearl sees him, she notices changes too—his skin paler, like he’s spent several weeks locked inside a basement instead of out in the summer sun, his eyes no longer their regular bright blue.

“Hey, Skizzly,” she greets brightly, trying to play at normal, throwing him a bone to grab onto.

Skizz just glances at her before responding with a flat, “Oh, hey Pearl.”

Pearl’s smile falters. “How are you feeling? Impulse told me you’re a little under the weather.”

Skizz shrugs. “Fine, I guess. Did you need something?”

Pearl swallows, something cold sinking in her guts. “No, no, just checking in on you.”

“Gem already checked on me,” Skizz says. “She said I’m not sick.”

“Gem’s not that type of doctor,” Pearl reminds him with a weak smile.

Skizz shrugs again. “She’s the only doctor we’ve got.”

Pearl tries her best not to let that unsettle her.

---

It’s not just Skizz.

It starts with him, but it doesn’t end there. Keralis is next, and then Grian. Mumbo gets sickest the quickest, going from his anxious, affable self to a nearly-unresponsive husk within a week. That scares them all, because even Skizz is still responding when spoken to, still moving when instructed to, even after nearly a month of being infected with… whatever it is that’s going around.

False gets sick without anyone noticing, sequestered away in her lighthouse until she comes into town for groceries looking like a photograph that’s been left in the sun for too long, and that’s when people really start to panic.

And that’s when Gem declares, with all the authority that being a doctor of anthropology afforded her in a tiny town with no real doctor, that she’s putting everyone into quarantine until they can determine the source of the illness.

“I’m not sick,” Pearl tells Gem when her friend knocks on her door, dressed in full lab gear, her hair out of its usual ponytail and falling forward around her face. She’s pretty sure she isn’t, at least, having hyper-analysed the shade of blue in her eyes in the mirror every morning for the past month.

“I know,” Gem says. “I want to—I need to—can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Pearl says, stepping aside. “Of course.”

Gem enters, heading down the stairs into Pearl’s living space and staring at the paintings on the wall. Pearl watches her for a moment before stepping closer, resting a reassuring hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“What’s eating you?” she asks.

Gem snorts out a laugh at that. “I’m not a real doctor, Pearl,” she says.

“I know that.”

“They all need me to be a real doctor for them. I—” She breaks off, runs an anxious hand through her hair. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I need help.”

Pearl raises her eyebrows. “I don’t know how I can help,” she says. “I’m even less of a doctor than you are.”

“I know,” Gem says. “But you’re my friend, and I trust you, and I need—please?”

She stares at Pearl, bright green eyes magnified through thick glasses lenses. Pearl has never been able to say no to those eyes.

“Okay,” she agrees, letting out an uncertain breath. “Okay. What do you need me to do, Dr. Tay?”

Gem laughs again, high-pitched and anxious, and Pearl feels hot and cold all at once.

---

They do house calls. Once a day, Gem and Pearl, and sometimes Impulse, will make a round of the village, checking in on everyone. Gem brings some of her lab equipment and a notebook, where she scribbles down all the readings she takes from her instruments and any observations she makes. After the first week or so, Pearl also takes to bringing a sketchbook and a small travel painting kit, attempting to record the desaturation rate in her friends’ colours.

It doesn’t matter which way they look at it—the situation is bad, and rapidly getting worse. Most of the town is infected now, and Skizz is approaching Mumbo’s level of deterioration. Cub fell ill two weeks ago, and Tango—

Well, he’s not quite grey yet, but he looks washed out where he sits at his table, especially next to Gem, all bright copper and ocean blue and forest green. His voice is flat, all of the emotion in it gone, and while he responds in full sentences to Gem’s questions as Pearl attempts to capture the moulded-straw colour of his hair, none of his words sound like him.

Gem wraps up her check-in, and Pearl follows her out, paints packed away in her bag and sketchbook held carefully so as not to smudge the paint. Impulse is waiting for them outside, staring out into the bay, where a low-lying fog has been hanging for days.

He glances over at them, voice shaking as he asks, “How is he?”

Gem hesitates. “About the same?” she offers.

Pearl shakes her head. “Worse,” she says, offering her sketchbook to Impulse, pointing out the differences in values between the colours she’d sampled from Tango two days ago to the ones she’d taken today.

Impulse’s hands are trembling as he hands the sketchbook back to her. “What do we do?” he asks. “They just keep getting worse—Gem, what do we do?”

Gem’s eyes are fixed somewhere out at sea. Her expression is so scarily blank that Pearl would worry she was infected if not for how bright and vibrant she looks against the backdrop of the village. (Are the houses getting greyer? Surely not—surely it’s just the fog, and the fact that the sky has been overcast for a fortnight now—surely—)

“We look after them best we can,” Gem says. “I’m trying—every night I’m working on a cure.”

“And do you think it’ll work?” Impulse pushes.

“I have to,” Gem replies. “It has to.”

Pearl swallows, and does not voice what all three of them are thinking: what if it doesn’t?

---

Impulse turns up one morning a shade dimmer than he had been the day before. Pearl notices immediately, her stomach lurching at the sight of him. He offers her a smile that’s smaller than his usual ones, a greeting that’s a little flatter than it would usually be. Pearl’s not sure if Gem even notices.

But Pearl notices, and her eyes sting, and she throws herself at him in a way that catches all three of them off-guard.

“Uh, Pearl?” Impulse says, stiff and uncomfortable beneath her. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry,” Pearl mumbles against his ear.

“Pearl?” There’s a peak of distress in his voice but it’s not enough. Gem hears it, too.

“Oh no,” she breathes.

“Okay, guys, seriously,” Impulse says, pushing Pearl away. “What’s going on?”

They just stare at him.

Realisation dawns across Impulse’s face. “No.”

“Maybe…” Gem sucks in a breath. She reaches out to take his hand and squeezes it. “Maybe you should go home, Impy. Get some rest.”

“I’m fine,” Impulse protests. “I’m…” His protest crumbles under their gazes. He slumps, and Pearl knows that he would normally never crumble like that. He’d protest and fight back and keep working until he passed out on the docks and had to be carried back to bed.

“C’mon,” she says softly. “I’ll help you home.”

Impulse doesn’t protest that either. He knows, as well as the two of them do, how this ends. He knows that there’s no fighting this.

Pearl, very valiantly, does not cry about it.

---

With everyone except the two of them infected, Pearl manages to convince Gem to split the rounds, with her taking half of the houses, and Gem taking the other half, swapping halves every couple of days. Gem is reluctant, but she has no good argument against Pearl’s that this is more practical, and so she agrees.

And that’s when Pearl notices.

She thinks she’s imagining it at first, but the colour swatches in her sketchbook back up her suspicions, damning evidence she can’t ignore.

When she visits her rounds, she finds that the people she’s visiting appear to have stabilised, at least for a couple days, no greyer today than they were when she saw them the day before. And then she swaps with Gem, and notices that Gem’s half of the rotation are far paler, far less responsive, than they had been the last time Pearl had seen them. They stabilise for a couple days, and then they switch, and Pearl’s original rotation have deteriorated massively in the several days since.

There’s really only one conclusion she can draw from that, and she doesn’t want to draw it. She doesn’t want to believe that the one responsible for this is—

The fog is a permanent fixture of the village now, blanketing the bay in a thick blanket of quiet. Pearl finds it hard to sleep, even the familiar sound of waves muffled by the mist. Kept awake into the early hours of the morning, she finds herself in the studio, a brush in hand, letting the paint take her where it will.

And where it takes her is familiar: the village, desaturated and coated in fog, dark looming shapes in the mist beyond, rising out of the ocean. And there, in the midst of the painting, a bright spot in all the gloom, is Gem, so vibrant she practically lifts off the page.

Pearl stares at it for a long, long time, and then places it face against the wall and tries her best to forget about it.

---

In all the dread, they’d forgotten something important.

The sea isn’t safe. It never has been. Growing up in the bay you learn how to weather the storms, to predict the tides, to flee from floods. You learn how to build barriers, and you learn how to rebuild once the ocean drags them down.

Pearl knows that her village can handle the sea: she’s seen them do it time and time again over the years. Together, they move as a well-oiled machine, responding to threats from the depths with weathered ease. That’s why she doesn’t expect it, she thinks.

There’s never been a monster attack that False didn’t warn them about.

But False isn’t capable of doing much of anything at the moment.

And so when the tentacles rise from the waves, there isn’t a warning.

Just a deafening krk-crash that wakes Pearl from a dead sleep with a bolt of adrenaline that’s nearly nauseating. She scrambles from her blankets, still in her pajamas, and rushes up the stairs to throw on her boots. It’s edging towards winter now, the weather much milder than the summer months, and though it’s not cold by any stretch of the imagination the chill of the air still makes her shiver. She grits her teeth, racing from her front door to the village proper, and there—

There’s a sea monster, dark purple tentacles reaching out to the shore, destroying everything in its wake. The fish market is half gone, and it’s awful, but it’s a relief, in a way, because nobody lives there.

“Gem!” Pearl screams into the night.

“Pearl!” she hears echo back, followed by distant footsteps, growing ever-closer.

Gem’s face is flushed, her hair wild, her eyes wide. She’s also in her pyjamas, her lab coat that’s been ever-present for months now gone, and Pearl finds her eyes drawn to dark striations in her skin. They look like—

“Pearl,” Gem says again. “We need to get everyone out, away from the shore, up to the research centre—”

Pearl nods. “Got it,” she says. She points towards the docks and says, “I’ll head over there.”

Gem nods. “Be safe,” she says, and then she’s off again, pelting in the direction of the lighthouse.

Pearl doesn’t bother knocking as she throws Impulse’s door open. He’s still lucid enough that he’s been startled awake by the noise, though it hasn’t driven him to do much more than put his shoes on and stare out of the window at the dark shapes rearing up out of the fog.

“Impulse!” Pearl cries.

“Pearl?” Impulse says, glancing at her with dull eyes.

“We need to get people out,” she says.

There’s an extended pause, then, “Okay.”

“Can you get Skizz?” she asks. “Tango, too, maybe? I need to go to the beach, help everyone down there.”

Another extended pause, then a nod. “I can do that,” Impulse says. He moves too slowly, not driven by the same panic flooding Pearl’s veins, but it’s good enough. It has to be. Pearl doesn’t have time to consider the alternative.

She goes racing off for the beach. She throws open Keralis’ door first, relieved that he is, at least, wearing underwear when she drags him from his bed and into the night. She leaves him there while she grabs Grian from his hut, and then takes them both by the wrists, pulling them along behind her while she races for the cliffside.

It feels like hours that she races back and forth, grabbing her friends from their homes and dragging them in various states of comprehension to the safety of the cliff before running back into the danger zone. Grian’s hut is gone, and so is a large portion of the road. The tentacles have taken a chunk out of the farms further up the coast. Gem’s been taking the people she rescues a different route up to the research facility, the path that Pearl’s taking cut off to her by debris.

Once she’s got everyone on her side of town, she collapses panting on the grass, her lungs aching with the strain. There’s a fire somewhere down on the shore, someone’s lantern knocked astray by swinging tentacles. Her eyes burn just from looking at it.

A voice says, “I got him.”

Pearl looks up.

It’s Impulse, manhandling a colourless, greyscale Skizz.

Pearl goes cold.

“Where’s Tango?” she asks.

Impulse blinks. Slowly. Too slowly.

“Oh,” he says. “I’ll go get him.”

Pearl shakes her head, rocketed up to her feet by panic once again. “No, I’ll go,” she gasps. “You stay here.”

And then she’s off running again, beelining for Tango’s house, praying to any higher power that will listen that she’s not too late. Her lungs ache. Her legs burn. She can’t quite catch her breath. She’s shaking.

And then she’s knocking down Tango’s door, grabbing him from his bed against the far wall, dragging him away—

The roof coming down sounds like thunder, like the sky split open and gutted for parts. Pearl goes down hard, stars bursting behind her eyes, her breath coming out empty and then as a whine. She blinks, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark, for her ears to stop ringing, and that’s when she hears it.

It’s—not a scream. More of a whimper, or a wail, stretched out and awful and pained and punctuated by short, desperate gasps. It goes straight to her stomach, straight to making her sick, and she doesn’t want to look. Doesn’t want to move.

But, god, she has to, doesn’t she?

She wiggles her fingers, her toes, and lets out a deep groan as she pushes herself up onto her hands and knees. The world has narrowed in on itself, the open air of Tango’s house reduced to a crawlspace, and she shuffles down it, rubble and debris tearing her skin open and leaving bloody red marks on desaturated wood. It is a far cry from the blood she finds, practically brown with how much colour has been leeched from it.

“Oh, my god,” she chokes. “Tango…”

Tango just moans in response. She can’t tell if he’s pale from blood loss or pale from the infection, but either way it has the effect of making him look half dead. He’s half buried beneath the rubble, body jerking with what she can only assume is pain, barely felt beneath the weight of numb apathy.

“I gotta get you out of here.” The words taste acrid against her tongue. Or maybe that’s the smoke. She can’t tell. “I’ve got you.” She grabs Tango by his good arm and grimaces. “It’s gonna be okay.”

It’s not a reassurance for him. Not really. Pearl’s familiar enough with his condition by now to know that he can’t really care about being okay at this point.

It’s more for her as she does her best to get leverage in the small space and pulls.

When Tango screams, she knows it’s completely involuntary, an animal howl of agony that stops her short. Pearl gasps, tears on her cheeks, head spinning. “Please, no,” she begs, and she doesn’t know if she’s talking to him or the higher power that’s been ignoring her for weeks. “No, no, I gotta—I—”

“Pearl?”

“Gem!” Pearl cries. “Gem, please, I need—it’s Tango—he’s—”

“I’ve got you,” says Gem’s voice, familiar and close as footsteps pound across rubble. There’s a series of grunts and clunks as rubble shifts, and then there’s light pouring into the crawlspace, which is no longer so much of a crawlspace. Gem stares at the two of them, Pearl in tears on her knees and Tango half buried and lying in his own dull blood.

“Okay,” she gasps out, and she sounds terrified. “Okay,” she repeats, steadier this time.

Pearl wants to be relieved, but she’s just on the other side of hysterical. Gem’s holding an axe, which she must have used to clear the rubble, and she steps forward with it held between white knuckles.

“Hold him still,” she tells Pearl.

Pearl swallows. “Gem?” she whispers.

“Please.”

Gem glances down at Pearl, and god, she never has been able to say no to that, has she?

She shuffles forward, puts her weight against Tango, holds him still. Squeezes her eyes shut.

It doesn’t make it any better.

It doesn’t stop her from hearing the sick crunch of the axe cutting through bone or the blood-curdling scream Tango lets out.

It doesn’t stop her from feeling the sudden lack of resistance as she pulls Tango’s bleeding body away from the rubble, leaving his arm behind.

---

Pearl manages to hold it together until they’re able to get Tango safe and stable. Once the wound has been cauterised and disinfected and bandaged, and he’s left sitting with a mostly-unresponsive Skizz and an Impulse who’s just aware enough to be awkward about how little he feels for his friend, she walks away from the town’s refugees on the hillside until she can no longer hear them, and they can no longer hear her. She stands for a moment, surveying the damage below, the sun rising over the sea and the flooded streets and destroyed buildings, and she sucks in a breath that knocks her to her knees.

The panic attack comes in quick half-breaths and waterlogged wails, her hands gripping at her hair and pulling it hard enough to hurt. The world blurs around her as she chokes on saltwater and bile, her ears ringing with screams and funeral bells. When the hands settle on her shoulders she barely feels them—only feels them when they rise to her wrists and untangle her fingers from her hair.

“—earl? Pearl. Look at me. Come on, I know you can do it.”

“Ge-em,” Pearl chokes out. “I can’t—I—”

“I’ve got you,” Gem soothes. She takes Pearl’s hands in hers, squeezes them tight, real and grounding. “See, come on, that’s it. Breathe with me.”

Pearl blinks tears from her eyes as she tries to time her breathing to Gem’s. She’s not very good at it, her heart too quick and Gem’s too slow, but it helps, dragging her down from the high of panic.

“That’s it,” Gem breathes. She lets go of Pearl’s hand, reaching up to push the hair out of Pearl’s face, cupping her cheeks in her palms. “See? Nice and calm. Everything’s fine, see?”

“Yeah,” Pearl agrees, and the words feel hollow. Her panic feels hollow, somewhere above her body, her soul sunken to somewhere below her knees. She sucks in a breath, lets Gem wipe tears from her eyes with her thumbs.

Gem is so bright. A searchlight in a storm, a ray of rising sun through the dark. The world seems to grey around her.

Pearl reaches out, splaying her hand against Gem’s cheek, a clumsy echo of Gem’s own reassuring, grounding touch. Gem is still so bright, vivid enough that Pearl doesn’t think any paint could capture it.

And Pearl, held in comparison, is grey and dull. A shade, drained of life.

She swallows. Lets out a shaking breath. Looks up into Gem’s green eyes, sees the fear and regret in them, and can barely summon her own panic or hurt in return.

“Oh,” she says, and the word falls like a stone, plunging into the depths.

---

Pearl lets out a breath. “It was the body, wasn’t it?” she asks, loosening her grip. “The one that washed up. It did something to you.”

Gem swallows. She pulls away, holding onto her own wrist where Pearl had dropped it, clutching it to her chest. “I’m so hungry, Pearl,” she whispers. “I fade so fast now. I need… I need…”

“You’re going to kill us.” Gem flinches at the words. “You know that, don’t you, Gem? You’re going to kill us. You are killing us.”

“I just need your colours,” Gem replies, a whine in her voice. “I just…”

“What happens when we’re gone, Gem? What happens when you’ve taken all the colours? What happens then?”

Gem stares at her. There are tears in her eyes. They don’t quite fall, but Pearl can feel them drip into her hollow heart. There’s an ocean between them now and Pearl doesn’t have the wits to cross it. She doesn’t care enough to cross it, and she doesn’t feel enough to care about that.

“I have to go and check on Impy,” Gem repeats, her voice thick. “I’ll see you later, Pearl.”

“You won’t,” Pearl calls after her as Gem hurries for the door.

Gem doesn’t reply, just slamming the door shut in response.

Pearl sits in bed for a long time, staring at the wall with hazy vision. Her thoughts are muffled under the thick fog that chokes the village, and so when she finally stands, she’s not entirely sure why. She lets her body carry her back to her studio, picks up a canvas from against the wall, and places it on her easel. She sits down in front of it and stares.

Gem’s face stares back at her, the only alive thing in a dead and colourless world.

#solsticesocial #hermitaday #hermitcraft #fanfiction #magpie feather quill #if you're seeing this immediately after posting the ao3 link might not work #i am spending most of posting day on a plane so i am going about it in a way that's a little janky

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lenaellsi · 1 year ago

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on aziraphale's insecurities in S2

i'm pretty sure one of the lines in the end scene where crowley shoots himself in the foot the most is "i think i understand a whole lot better than you do," and i don't even think he realizes how badly aziraphale takes it.

it's just a fact to him: he knows better than aziraphale what heaven is like. it's also a fact to the audience, who knows that the metatron is doing this for bad reasons and that aziraphale is walking into a trap. but it's not a fact to aziraphale. and that's the moment aziraphale goes from panicky and anxious to angry.

aziraphale's self-doubts and anxieties concerning his identity as an angel are shown frequently in s2. we start 2x01 with him deeply insecure in his 'retirement': crowley mentions that aziraphale frequently calls him to "tell him about something clever he did," and aziraphale confirms that he is essentially using these conversations as a stand-in for reporting to heaven. he misses being on The Good Team and doesn't know what to do with himself now that he's not.

so aziraphale doesn't know who he is if he's not an angel, but he also knows that he's a bad angel. he was frequently mocked and condescended to in heaven (by seemingly everyone, not just the archangels; even the quartermaster in s1 called him pathetic). he lied to heaven, he lied to god, he enjoys earthly pleasures, he loves works with a demon, and he doubts the Plan. he never fit in with them. lonely, remember?

and later in the season, we learn that shax, for all that she apparently is not great with sarcasm, is remarkably perceptive when picking up on insecurities. she mocks aziraphale twice, first in the car for his relationship with crowley (which, interestingly, doesn't faze him a bit--remember the eyebrow? he's not at all insecure in his knowledge that crowley loves him. crowley has always been the thing he's most sure of, even very early on--look at how much faith he has in him with job.) the second time she hits much harder: "crowley's emotional support angel," "shall we send in the sushi?" "the softest touch" etc. it hurts him, you can see it.

and there's another tiny moment in 2x05 I don't think I've ever seen anyone talk about, where crowley has just bluffed to the demon horde and is trying to get all the humans together to leave. crowley says, "I won't leave you on your own," and aziraphale says, "I know. But I have a suggestion--" and crowley brushes him off, saying "I got this." aziraphale looks very frustrated by this exchange, which--yeah! fair!

and over and over, we just--we see crowley be right. right about job and god, right about elspeth, right about the magic trick, the nazis, the arrangement, the apocalypse. "you were right, you were right, i was wrong, you were right." crowley's never done the dance before, he says. how many times has aziraphale had to?

and crowley's not just right, he's confident in it! he moves through the world and makes choices that fly in the face of everything aziraphale knows about Good and Evil, and it seems to come so easily to him. he's loud, and he's brave, and he's full of conviction, and aziraphale often feels overshadowed by that surety, because he's so often full of doubt. "you sound jealous, angel," is what crowley says at job's mansion, and i think he's more right than he knows.

all this to say: when crowley says "I think I understand a whole lot better than you do," what aziraphale hears is you idiot and how can somebody as clever as you be so stupid and I was right, I was right, you were wrong, I was right. and he's fucking sick of it.

and so he doubles down, and he gets in the stupid elevator, and he makes the worst mistake of his life, because he's sick of being treated as heaven's lackey or crowley's sidekick. the metatron knew exactly what to say to get him there, and crowley had no idea he was playing directly into it.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens meta #aziraphale #crowley #gos2 spoilers

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applejuicebegood · 8 months ago

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I'm sorry if your ask box isn't open I was wondering if you wouldn't mind like an angst with jason todd where the reader is like the complete opposite of like his ex's like she's chubby and isn't this Amazonian woman but so she feels like he is with her out of pity and a huge miscommunication is going on because she doesn't want to bother jason with these self conscious problems she is facing

A/N: This shall be my first attempt at Jason angst so I really hope it's decent!! It will be fluffy towards the end tho dw. Thank you sm for the request dude!! CW: Body-image insecurity, self-doubt, anxiety Masterlist

You always had a complicated relationship with your body. Never fitting into the right molds of beauty provided to you.

Only to grow older and realise that this would be the only body you had in this life - you should love all the parts that came with it. Parts that you would see mirrored in sculptures of gods and paintings of royalty. Why shouldn't you be proud of the fact that it was bodies like yours that were the templates for worship?

And then you saw your boyfriends ex. It was during one of your book-shop dates, he pointed her out before quickly walking to the next aisle thinking that you would be right behind him. Hating that his comfortable bubble with you had been suddenly popped by the presence of a dead love.

But you were stuck, your feet nailed to the floor, gazing at this pillar of a woman. And suddenly the blaring buzz of weight-loss adds and the 'concerns regarding your health' filled up your head. Making you hang your head to glare at your shoes. Jason appeared, looking concerned that you didn't fallow. He came and touched his hand to your back. 'You ok ma'?'

You nodded and tucked your hand back into his, with a cold pit of doubt forming in your stomach.

The next few weeks was a confusing fix of dread and doubt, for the both of you. You became distant, preparing yourself for the eventual confession from Jason that he only got with you because he felt bad. Brushing off his sweet touches and offers for you to spend the night. Resulting in Jason trying to chase after you in fear that his blunt arrogance was driving you away. He was confused, and when he got confused - he got angry. Something he felt an infinite amount of shame regarding because what if his capacity to be stuck in this loop of anger was the thing pushing you away.

You, the one stable thing he found that was able to drowned all of it out. You, he couldn't loose, not because of him.

'Baby.. we- we need to talk' He said, standing from the couch as you tried to escape to the door. You had prepared yourself for these words. Preparing yourself for the stinging pain of loneliness that would fallow as he tells you that you guys should break up. 'Here.. let's just sit' He say's motioning to the couch. At least you would be near him just a bit longer. 'Listen... I know I'm a dick- and that I can be really difficult but.. but baby if I did or said something that's making you so distant.. you need to tell me'. He pleaded, taking your hand into his. This was not in the script you had conjured up in your head. He was supposed to tell you to pack up your stuff and leave. That he had gotten back together with Artemis, someone actually deserving of his praise and unconditional love. Someone who was actually pretty. 'What.. Jace- no.. you.. Wait what are you talking about?' 'I mean- you've been so distant and just off for like weeks now, and if it was something I did.. baby I'm so sorry' 'Your not..? never-mind..' You say, tucking your hands under your thighs. 'So.. did I do someth-' 'No! Gods Jason, no! You didn't do anything I just.. I mean I figured you.. I mean I.. UGh!' You stuttered, simmering in your own frustration. 'Its so stupid..' You mumble, the warmth of Jason's big palm rubbing over your tense back became the rope keeping you from the harsh pit of disappear you were about to be cast into. 'Baby, It is not stupid if it's got you like this. Please, just talk to me..' 'I.. like- I mean Jace, I'm not the prettiest of girls. I'm not skinny.. and I just.. I mean maybe you should be with some-' 'Don't even finish that' He said sternly, grabbing onto both of your shoulders. Making your glossy eyes meet his intense glare. He sighed, taking a moment to place his words in the right order in his head. 'If you think, for even a moment, I would ever fall out of love for you because of how you look- I'm going to throw you off of the balcony' 'Please don't' You giggled, the swell of tears building in the corners of your eyes. 'Is that was this is? You thinking you weren't good enough for me because of your body?' You nod, swiping the tears escaping down your cheeks with the back of your hand. Jason scoffed, seemingly in his own disbelief. He suddenly shifted from the couch to kneeling in front of you, taking both of your hands into his. 'So, not to sound like too much of a pig.. but baby, your body is one of the reasons I fell so hard for you. Your glorious.. every inch of you is perfect' He said. Your fingers reached our to cup his chin and jaw, those rich green eye's looking up at you so lovingly. 'No.. Jace I-' 'Yes. Yes you are. And if I ever start to say or think differently, you better fucking shoot me'. He chuckled, softly rubbing the sides of your thighs. 'But-' 'No'. 'I just-' 'Stop talking' He mumbled kissing your palm as your hand curled around his cheek. You felt whiplashed. This was so far from the expected outcome of this conversation. Weeks of starving yourself of his touch for a false premonition, all for it to end so suddenly. It was this quiet revilement of your doubts. As you looked back into Jasons sorrowful eyes, it was like a fire catching to greater heights as you remembered just why you fell for him. He stood suddenly and bent down to sweep you up from the couch and into his thick arms. Your hands immediately wrapping around his neck as he pressed soft kisses around your cheeks and nose. "Wa- Jay! What are you-?' 'I think.. you are in need of some lovin' tonight Miss L/N. To make up for all this distance.. you owe me that' He said, making his way to his bedroom as his lips traveled down the curve of your neck.

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theealbatross · 28 days ago

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Headcannon: Sebastian takes care of people

Tags: fluff, kinda low self esteem, kinda unhealthy codependency, short read had to get it out of my head

He takes care of strangers

Like silly little first years lost in the moving stairs, albeit with a frown and a sharp lecture about the dangers of walking around the castle and being too prideful to carry a map when they could barely locate their dorm rooms, firmly putting a quick end to older students' teasing when their jokes cross a line, and even ending up as the reluctant volunteer tutor (live training dummy) for Defense Against the Dark Arts after Professor Hecat assigned him the role to complete his detention.

This, in turn, makes him surprisingly popular with the kids to his bewilderment as they gravitate toward their grumpy but reliable senior.

"Have a good day, Sebastian!"

Both of you frown in confusion at the gaggle of cheerful first-year Hufflepuffs who eagerly greet him as you pass the halls. One even waved at him before they turned into a corner.

"What was that?"

He shrugs. "Hell if I know."

He takes care of his friends

"Amitt! Watch out!"

The Ravenclaw could barely turn to the familiar booming voice before he was shoved to the ground.

"Hey! You aren't allowed in the field!"

"Are you alright, Amitt?" He realizes the concerned voice of his friend, Sebastian, brought him out of his stupor. And in his hand is the bludger that nearly had an intimate interaction with the back of his head.

"Oh! Sebastian! Many thanks! I didn't know Slytherin practices ran this late. I was on my way to the top of the bleachers -- the best views of the summer night sky, I tell you."

"Thakkar, you don't have permission to be here!"

Sebastian rolls his eyes, feeling Amitt's anxiety rising as Slytherin quidditch players land one after another, looming over him. "Back off, all of you. He nearly got hurt. I'll handle it."

"But --"

"My apologies everyone! I truly meant no harm --"

"The captain's right, Sallow. Who knows if those Ravenclaws are using this nerd over here to spy on us --"

"I said back off, Thorncrest," Sebastian turned his back on Amitt to face all of his teammates, daring any of them to take another step. "The next time you ignore my orders, I'll stop using words since they can't seem to penetrate through your skull. So you either learn to play nice or I won't let it pass that it was because of your subpar performance that a bludger almost hit my friend."

Sebastian and the other Slytherin student glared at each other until Imelda smacked Thorncrest's head, cutting through the tension. "Listen to your Vice-Captain," he turns to Sebastian with a nod. "I'll take care of him, you get Thakkar out of here."

Sebastian nodded back at Imelda, ensuring everyone was back in the skies before turning to a guilty-looking Amitt.

"I'm sorry, Sebastian. I did not think I would cause such a disturbance."

Sebastian just waved him off with a friendly chuckle and a comforting hand on his shoulder. Amitt can't believe his fellow Ravenclaws don't believe him when he tells them Sebastian is a warm person, laughing to his face was just quite rude. To be fair, they could barely believe they were friends at all. "Don't worry about it, athletes are assholes during Quidditch season."

He looked sheepish, "Can I still go up the bleachers?"

Despite his subdued character, Sebastian can see that Amitt has all the determination in the world when it comes to achieving the things that interest him the most. Maybe that's why he liked the Ravenclaw boy so much. "Yeah, go ahead, Amitt. Just don't let any prefect see you."

"Ah! Thank you, my friend! I shall be as quiet as a mouse!"

Sebastian waved as Amitt haphazardly said his goodbyes.

"If anybody bothers you tell them to talk to me!"

He takes care of Ominis

Despite his great interest in the dark arts and his pure-blooded status, Sebastian will take any and every opportunity to fight Ominis' family. He hates them simply because they hurt his friend, which is unforgivable in his eyes. He had every opportunity to get in their good graces but he blew all of that to pieces when he got in a crude fight with the eldest son of the Gaunts the moment he called Ominis a 'useless cripple'.

From then on, Sebastian has been banned from the Gaunt's estate indefinitely.

"Yeah, they better fucking ban me or I'll burn that haunted house to the ground and lock that prick inside of it."

Despite himself and his pacifistic tendencies, Ominis couldn't but scoff out a laugh while Sebastian nursed a bloody lip, glaring at the gates of the manor as it closed on them. "You didn't need to do that."

"I don't think I did enough," he sneers, blood boiling at the fact that Ominis seemed used to their cruel words. Not wanting to fester on their cruel treatment, he throws his hands across Ominis' shoulders. "Who the hell wants to spend Christmas there anyway? Feldcroft is way more cozy."

Ominis smiled, patting Sebastian's back, the closest 'thank you' he could show now that he knew he had found a true friend. "You're right," He thinks of Anne, Solomon's bland stew, and the blinking lights of the Sallow home.

"Are you alright?" And Sebastian -- kind, true, painfully loyal. His first friend.

Ominis nods.

"Let's go home."

He takes care of his family.

Even though Anne no longer communicates with him after 'the incident' Sebastian still religiously sends letters to Beauxbatons Academy along with whatever trinkets he finds that remind him of her. And even though he detested Solomon and barely felt bad about his death, he still made a point to clean his grave, knowing the old man didn't like it when things were messy, and even emptied his favorite whiskey on his birthday.

"Seb?"

He blinks as you slip your hands into his. He squeezes it, letting the heat on your skin ground him as the two of you stare at the gravestone. Just as remorseful guilt creeps into your heart, he cuts it off. "I don't regret it, you know," he mutters firmly. "He almost ... he was hurting Anne. He was going to hurt you."

You nod, leaning your forehead on his shoulders, trying to comfort him through his quiet struggles knowing words or pieces of advice won't help.

"But I know he did his best. It wasn't enough but it was his best," he empties the other half of the whiskey on the grave, and his grip on you tightens. "I owe him this much."

He takes care of you.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Sebastian flinches awake at the recent memory, his breath shaky as he looks around the dim light of the Room of Requirement.

He did what he had to do, he knows this. Solomon has been eaten up by his own anger, if he didn't stop him ... Merlin knows what would've happened.

If the three of you had gotten out of that fight alive, with your participation in his insipid plans, it wasn't unlikely that Solomon would ship you off to Azkaban with him. That can't happen, he dragged you into that hellhole, he had to get you out of there unscathed.

No matter how high the cost.

"S-Sebastian?"

He sits up from the couch, surprised to see you awake on the open door that leads to your personalized bedroom. The two of you had holed up in your safe haven after the events of the night but it would seem rest evaded the two of you.

"I can't ..." you sigh shakily, biting your lips. "I can't sleep. I'm scared."

As if your fear had overpowered his own, he swiftly set aside the last traces of his fear and guilt, extending his hands, which you eagerly took. Sebastian pulls you in his lap, preceding any thought of impropriety as he curls himself around you, letting you bury your face in the crook of his neck while he covers the two of you in your blanket.

"It's all going to be all right," he promises, pressing his lips on the crown of your hair. "I won't let anything happen to you."

And takes care of you.

"Hey, Sebastian is waiting for you in the common room."

"Sallow said he'll pick you up after class."

"She's not coming, Sebastian's got her."

"Your hound is here."

You turned with a frown from Imelda to what she was staring at with a mischievous grin and by the door stood Sebastian, smiling when your eyes met.

"I --"

"-- have to go," Imelda playfully rolled her eyes. You gave her a smile as you gathered your books.

"Same time next week?"

"Maybe let's hide somewhere your hound can't sniff you up?"

"Get your own witch, Reyes," a deep voice from behind proved her point. Sebastian grabbed your book and satchel from your hands, hooking it on one arm, and the other gently offered his free hand to yours. "This one's mine."

And wants to take care of you forever.

"You should marry me."

Your next step faltered as you turned to Sebastian on the shore of the Black Lake, the setting sun illuminating his face and the vulnerability and determination written across it.

"W-What?"

"I've thought about it," he swallows, walking closer until he is right in front of you, the cold shallow water above your ankles a welcome reprieve from your burning body at such an announcement. "I've thought about letting you go, letting you find someone better than me. "

"Sebastian --"

"But I figured that I'm a selfish man. I always have been. And I want you more than anything else," you shudder at his fervor. "I love you more than anything else in this world."

Gently, as he always does, he took your hand, placing it on his warm cheek. "I can't offer much, I know, but I ... I will make you the sun my world will revolve on."

He presses a kiss at your palm, a warm tear falls from your eyes.

"Marry me," he begs. "Let me be the one to make you happy."

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian sallow headcannons #sebastian sallow fanfiction

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therandompagesblog · 20 days ago

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SKZ Pack Chapter 19

Trigger Warnings: fluff, public sex, smut

Same day. Same time. Same hour. Same second. Both Minho and Felix had their rut. Minho was very private about going into a rut as if it was the most taboo thing. He kept himself alone in the safe house with Y/N's belongings that he had stolen on the way. Minho was similar to Felix, Jisung and Changbin who were whiny during their ruts. Minho would make little mewls and subtle growls as his stomach knotted in desire. He started off unbothered by playing games or reading but when it got bad Minho would touch himself. Minho's soft hands would palm himself as he thought about his little wolf touching him. He tried to imagine her soft touches and kitten licks. It would help until Minho started to get possessively feral. It was common for him as the days went on but he didn't expect this wave of desire towards Y/N's clothes. He didn't rut in them, he held them by his nose as he rutted in his hand or the sheets. Minho would even naughtily lick her clothes as if he could taste her. Felix on the other hand wanted to be alone this time as his anxiety was playing up more with his rut that he felt sick. Felix cried himself to sleep in pain some days while during the day he would rut like mad. His anxiety stemmed from his mate being stalked and despite wanting her in the room, the wolves upstairs would be more useful if something happened. Y/N had offered him help but he denied it, only requesting for slick stained clothes. It was embarrassing for Y/N to release her slick onto Felix's clothes but she knew he needed it.

Y/N felt bad for both wolves but tried to be there for them by supplying them with food, which they devoured like dogs. It was an honour to have her food and it made their wolves happy. Even the others were appreciative of her stepping up and taking over Minho's duties. Y/N actually enjoyed cooking and cleaning, but she didn't realise how messy the boys were especially Hyunjin, Jeongin, Seungmin and Jisung's bathroom. She could have killed them when she saw the state of it and even argued with them on why there was piss up the wall, which turned into a debate on who can't piss straight. Y/N didn't want any part in it. She thought it was disgusting and even got Chan to alpha command them all to clean their bathroom until it was sparkling. Even Chan was appalled. The head alpha took it upon themselves to show them his bathroom that he was so proud of, which was spotless, but then again Chan is a clean man. Sometimes. Not always.

Cleaning was hard because the cabin was huge and she didn't get to clean it as quickly as Minho and it stressed her out. She didn't want him to be disappointed in her so Jisung offered to help with the hoovering but he ended up breaking it because he clogged it so the pair was out at night buying a hoover. "We're not getting a Henry and Hetty hoover. Minho will hate it." Y/N scolded. "They are industrial hoovers. Plus they are energy efficient. And there is a Black Friday discount." Jisung said in excitement, while Y/N shook her head. "Ji he will kill you," Y/N argued. "Us, baby, us. He will kill us." Jisung said as he took the boxes and carried them over to the cashier. "We need to get back so I can cook dinner." Y/N reminded as he nodded his head as they walked back to the car with Henry and Hetty. "Shall we make a quick stop at the beach?" Jisung said causing Y/N to roll her eyes. He was the one driving so she couldn't stop him.

The beach was quiet as there was no one really there which made it nice for Jisung and Y/N to listen to the waves. They sat together on Jisung's jumper cuddled up to each other quietly. Jisung's arm wrapped around Y/N's waist with his head resting on her shoulder. His breath hit his mark. Y/N looked into his dark eyes and kissed his nose leading him to kiss her. Jisung brought his hand up to her cheek cupping her softly as he kissed her. His kisses were always sweet and gentle. His tongue softly touched hers as he deepened his kiss. Jisung escalated the miss by nipping at her bottom lip, sucking it before releasing it. "Jisung." Y/N moaned as he attached his mouth to his mark, nibbling on it as he smelt her sweat arousal. Jisung pushed her down onto the sand so he could run his hand up and down her body. Starting at her breasts, giving them a delicate squeeze before sliding down to her clothed pussy. Y/N thrust upwards with need as he rubbed her pussy, wanting him inside her.

Jisung dipped his hand inside her jeans to reach her slick leaking pussy so he could play with her. Her thick lubricant allowed him to enter a finger, making her moan in his mouth as he started to thrust. Jisung worked her up until his hand got tired from the restrictive jeans. "Can I pull them down?" Jisung asked. "Yeah." Y/N breathed out as she watched Jisung awkwardly slide her jeans off with a giggle because he couldn't get them off. As soon as he got them off his hand was inside her, pumping two digits into her while his thumb teased her clit, edging her but before she came Jisung pushed his joggers down ready to slide into her. "JISUNG!" Y/N almost screamed in shock at his quickness and desperation. He was so ready to take her, but her scream frightened him and he forgot how to move. Jisung tried to riggle his hips in an awkward motion causing them both to laugh. He had no idea how to flick his hips. When Y/N tried to guide him, his hips went in a circular motion, causing Y/N to bite her tongue to refrain from laughing so much. She didn't want him to feel insecure so she tried a different method by guiding her with her legs to thrust him into her. Once he got the hang of it Jisung quickened his pace quickly like a feral man who was new to sex. Y/N could tell he was going to come quickly because he was crying out. Vocalising his thrusts. "Baby so so good. Baby gonna come. Gonna cum inside you. Don't care." Jisung was too vocal and caused him to spit loads of thick hot liquid into her pussy as she felt his knot. Y/N hadn't expected to produce an uncouth amount of seed. It was feral and she didn't think her body could hold that much. "Uh Ji?!" Y/N called out. "Baby I know Chan is gonna kill me. I can help with your heat this time." Jisung winked. "No. We're at the beach." Y/N said. "Fuck."

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@galaxy4489 @reallychaoticwoo @leezanetheofficial @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @pixie0627

~ Taglist closed due to Tumblr only allowing a certain amount ~

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theereina · 17 days ago

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Big Mama Pt. 11 | You're Supposed To Know (2)

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +3.3K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut (alluding to sexual situations), heavily dialogue-centered, angst, verbal argument, physical fighting, blood, law enforcement involvement, fatphobia, use of the n-word

Synopsis: What will happen when Havana comes face-to-face with Terry's spiteful ex? As tension and emotions build during a close encounter, Havana must battle to control herself and the situation. Things fall apart when Terry is hurt, causing all hell to break loose. As if things couldn't get worse for Havana, this creates a myriad of internal problems for her— guilt, shame, and regression.

🦋Big Mama (series) => 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

“Okay, we have the chocolate brownie ice cream and the popcorn. What else?” Monnie asked me while I pushed the cart through the grocery store's aisles.

“Oouu, I want pickles!” I exclaimed a little too loudly.

“Pickles! ‘Vana, in a minute, I’m gone start to think your ass is pregnant. Do we need to get a test, girl?” Monnie said, standing in front of the cart.

“Shut up, please. The last thing I want to do is think about being pregnant for that man,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Damn, he already got demoted. Just two days ago, he was bae and hubby, now he is that man. Baby, you don't play, huh?” Monnie said, laughing into her hand.

“I’m beyond pissed right now. Why the fuck wouldn't he just tell me?” I said as I released a deep breath.

“Well…” Monnie said as she paused in the aisle.

I turned to face her. “Well? What you mean by that?” I asked, crossing my arms across my chest.

“To be honest, Terry probably knew you would beat his ass and her’s, too. ‘Vana, you've changed a lot. But,… that southern girl who was whoopin’ grown ass men wit’ no problem is still there. You ain't to be played wit’, and I think Terry knows that,” Monnie said, raising her hands in defense.

“Okay. You act like I was walkin’ around beatin’ on men. They all had it comin’, Monnie. I was not the problem, but these hands were solvin’ them. How is that my fault?” I asked, tilting my head at her.

“Look, I never said you were the problem. Let’s be honest; you're the only reason, ol’ boy who shall not be named, left me alone. He even told me he was scared of you. Baby, I used that to my full advantage every chance I got!” Monnie replied.

“Wait a damn minute. So, you're tellin’ me that you were tellin’ niggas I was gonna whoop them for fuckin’ wit’ you?” I gasped.

“Hell, yeah. You see ain't nobody fuck wit’ me,” Monnie said, smacking her lips.

“Get the fuck outta here!” I laughed.

Monnie walked up to me and fell out laughing on my shoulder. This was the first I had heard this. I knew men back home were a little intimidated by me, but I didn't realize it was this bad.

I heard someone whispering behind us as we laughed in the middle of the aisle. Monnie’s laughter was cut short as her head shot up to look in that direction. I turned to look over my shoulder. I could see two women at the end of the aisle. They were whispering and giggling back and forth like schoolgirls.

Monnie raised from my shoulder and stood in front of me. She leaned in close before speaking. “Don't freak out, okay? Those two have been following us around. At first, I thought I was trippin’ out, but now, I'm sure. Shorty wit’ the braids also mean-mugged you earlier. You know them or something?” Monnie asked, scrunching her face in confusion.

“No. I’ve never seen either one of them before. I mean… I don't think I know them,” I mumbled lowly. I was overcome with confusion and anxiety. “Look, just don't worry about it. They’re gone,” I said, turning Monnie around to head down the aisle in the opposite direction. Truth be told, Monnie was just as much of a hothead as me.

We continued to walk down the freezer aisle. We were forced to walk around a little longer because I needed to look for my pickles, and then we could leave. At the end of the aisle, I looked both ways before pushing the cart around the corner. I could hear Monnie sigh as she looked behind us.

“If it’s them, ignore it. I don't have time for it,” I said, looping my arm around Monnie’s.

“Hoes better not start. I’m gonna behave for now,” Monnie said, scoffing.

“Monnie!” I laughed, pulling her down the aisle.

I scanned the aisle for my pickles. I was in the mood for kosher baby dill pickles. It’s a shame my childhood obsession never ended.

I spotted the pickles on the bottom shelf. I squatted down to reach for the pickles.

“Damn! Bigger in person aren’t we?” said a woman’s voice.

I turned to face the voice, and both women from before were standing there. They were once again laughing.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I asked, standing up to put the pickles in the cart. I stood to my full height and moved towards the women.

“Nah, ignore it. Remember?” Monnie said, placing her hand on my chest. She turned me back around so I was no longer facing them. I grabbed the cart and began pushing it again.

“Monnie, if they keep following us, I'm going to lose my shit. What the fuck was that about?” I questioned. I couldn't wrap my brain around this whole situation.

That’s when it hit me— THE ONE WHO COMMENTED WAS TAYLOR! How the fuck did I miss that? I barely looked at her profile when she sent me the messages and screenshots about her and Terry.

“Monnie, that’s her. That was Taylor. I didn't notice at first. How the fuck didn't I catch that?” I said, face-palming myself.

“Wait which one?” she leaned in to whisper.

“The one who spoke,” I whispered.

“You know what? Let's just pay for our stuff and leave because I already don't like this bitch,” Monnie said, rolling her shoulders. “Havana?!” she blurted.

I looked at Monnie's face. I hadn't heard a word she said. I was dissociating because of my growing anger and agitation.

“Ah, shit. I know that look. ‘Vana, let's just go,” Monnie said, grabbing my arm.

“No, I want my damn pickles. Plus, if they know what's best for them, they'll leave me the hell alone. I'm already mad at the one person who could rel—!” I said before Monnie covered my mouth.

“Fine. Just shut up. I don't need to hear nothing else about what that man be doin' nasty to you,” she laughed.

Five minutes later

beep

“You're total is 13.87. Cash or card?” asked the cashier.

“Cash. Here you go,” I said, smiling at the middle-aged Hispanic woman.

“Out of 20. You're change is—,” she said.

“Now, we both know you don't need any more junk food,” said the one voice I didn't need to hear— Taylor's.

“Girl, don't start. ‘Vana stay focused,” Monnie said through gritted teeth. It was clear that she was becoming irritated with Taylor and her friend.

��Sorry, here's your change,” said the cashier.

“My bad. Have a good day,” I said back taking the change and placing it into my wallet.

Monnie grabbed the bag and pushed me in front of her. I was on high alert and so was she. She was either putting a barrier between me and Taylor or getting closer so she could go off.

As we headed towards the doors, I felt Monnie's grip tighten. I didn't like the fact that I wasn't watching her back. I tried to slow down, so we could walk side-by-side, but she pushed me to keep going.

Once we were at the doors, I felt something hit my shoulder. It was Taylor bumping into me.

“Oops. It was hard not to with you being so big and all,” Taylor said, waving her hands around.

“Aye, you betta chill. I'm holdin’ her off for now, but yo’ lil ass got one more comment before I—,” Monnie started.

“Before you what? She'll get tired before she even reaches me,” Taylor laughed.

“Oop!” said her friend giggling.

“You for sure betta shut the fuck up. Because I'll get on yo’ ass myself!” Monnie said, walking towards the other woman.

“Nope. They're not worth it. If they were gonna do something, they would've already. Let's go!” I called to Monnie while grabbing her arm and pulling her around Taylor and her friend.

“She thinks I'm scared of her. That's cute. Terry might be, but I ain't. Ain't shit about you frightenin’. Bigger they are, the harder they fall!” Taylor yelled as I was turning.

“Little girl, leave me the fuck alone before I snap yo’ ass in half. You know what? What the fuck am I talkin' for? Balls in your court, baby. Make a move,” I said as I eyed Taylor down.

Taylor and her friend just stood there.

“Exactly!” Monnie said.

“My point has been made. Scary asses!” I said, looking Taylor up and down as I walked out.

As I walked closer to the second set of automatic doors, I heard the rumble of an all too familiar truck.

“Uh oh, here comes that man,” Monnie said.

“I'm not in the mood for this,” I mumbled under my breath.

Before I could get through the doors, Terry came barreling in.

“You okay, mama? Look at me!” he said, holding my face.

“I'm fine. You need to check your lil friend. She fuckin’ with me on the wrong day,” I said, moving my head. Right now, I didn't want to be touched.

“I don't give a fuck about her. I love you, and you know that, ‘Vana. Please, can you just listen to me? Come home w—,” he said before being interrupted.

“Not you beggin’ this bitch. Really?” Taylor asked, crossing her arms.

“Shut the fuck up, please. Damn!” Terry barked. His voice was so intense it even scared me.

“Huh? Fuck you!” Taylor yelled at Terry as she walked closer.

I immediately stepped in front of him like a barrier, turning to face Taylor. “Terry, get in the truck. Now!” I yelled.

I turned to see Terry still standing behind me, looking down at me. Monnie was now standing near the door, eyeing Taylor's friend.

“Terence Richmond, get in the damn truck!” I spat.

Terry began to back up before finally turning to walk back out. I looked at Monnie, and she was in attack mode. I was trying my hardest to diffuse the situation.

“Monnie, go. I'm leaving with Terry,” I said, turning Monnie so she could walk out.

Monnie resisted gently not wanting to take her eyes off them. I nudged her a little harder.

“Okay!” Monnie said, throwing her hands up in defeat.

“Thank you,” I said. I walked out to see Terry's truck parked a few feet away from the entrance.

“I said in the truck not outside of it. Please, just—,” I said, closing my eyes and releasing a deep breath.

Before I could finish, I heard the automatic doors open again. I didn't even have to turn around I knew who it was.

“Aw, he don't listen, huh? You know Terry's always been stubborn,” she said. I could hear her walking closer.

I eyed Terry and motioned towards the truck. I wanted him in, now. I looked over to make sure Monnie was still heading towards her car. When I saw that she was, I moved closer to Terry.

“Havana, just get in. Please,” Terry pleaded.

“No, I need you to get in first. Please,” I said, sharpening my gaze. I saw Terry's eyes dart from me to Taylor. I was only doing this so she wouldn't bother him. Lord knows I would go to jail behind him.

Terry opened the door and got into the truck. I immediately felt Taylor's presence behind me. I turned around to see her close to Terry's truck. I took a deep breath and walked around the back of the truck to avoid her.

Terry started the truck as I came around the other side. I could see Taylor's eyes going back and forth between me and Terry. A smirk slowly spread across her face. I knew she was up to something, but I couldn't care. My main concern was getting me, Terry, and Monnie out of here quickly.

Monnie pulled up beside Terry's truck, facing the opposite direction. Before I could even reach the door, Taylor approached Terry's window. Unfortunately for him, he was too busy watching me. Swinging the grocery bag in her hand, she hit Terry's window. I see the glass break as Terry ducks away. Whatever was in the bag was glass as well. So when it broke open in the bag, it slipped out of a hole in the bottom, hitting Terry in the face.

Taylor turned away to run, but I was obviously quicker than she thought. Before Taylor could blink, I was on her ass. I snatched the back of her hooded jacket and yanked her backwards by her braids.

My hands went straight for her face, punch after punch landing without a problem. Her friend attempted to approach me, but Monnie wasn't having it.

I snatched Taylor by her hair, slinging her body into the front of Terry's truck. You could hear the impact as it collided with a thud. I saw red!

A bystander walked up to me, grabbing my hands. I pushed the man back, causing him to stumble.

“Nah, this is what she wanted! She should've left me alone!” I yelled as I continued to beat Taylor's ass. She was fighting for her fucking life. All she could do from this angle was scratch the hell out of my forearms.

“’Vana!” Terry yells. I had never heard him sound like this.

I look up to see a horrific sight. The left side of Terry's face is bloody. Now, I'm internally conflicted— do I continue to whoop her ass or check on Terry? I let Taylor go and push her head into the truck.

I run to the passenger side to open the door and climb in. I grab Terry and gently pull him towards me.

“Baby, look at me! Shit!” I yell, noticing the gash on his cheek.

“Havana, please!” Terry asked, holding his eye.

“I'm done. I'm done. I promise. Hey, let's go!” I said climbing over Terry.

I sat in the driver's seat.

I panicked when I remembered that Taylor was in front of the truck.

I leaned out the window and yelled at the crowd of people, “ Move her or else!”.

Unfortunately, no one was listening to me. Their only concern was me not leaving the scene. Fuck that!

I threw the truck in reverse and gassed it. I heard people begin to yell. I leaned over Terry to yell at Monnie.

“I'm taking him to the hospital! Follow me, please!” I yelled, shaking.

I whipped out of the parking lot and entered the somewhat busy street. Not caring, I drove down the turning lane. As I approached the stoplight it turned red.

“You better not! I'm not dyin', baby. I care about your life too. Relax, ‘Vana. I'm okay,” he said.

I slammed on the brakes at the stoplight. Glancing back and forth between Terry and the stoplight, I found myself growing more and more anxious.

“What's hurting?” I asked Terry as I softly caressed his cheek.

“My eye and my cheek. I feel like there's glass in it,” Terry groaned.

“I know it hurts, baby. We'll get there soon. Okay?” I said, stroking the back of Terry's neck.

Once the light turned green, I turned onto the next street. The hospital was less than a block away at this point. Before I could get there, I heard the wail of a police siren. I looked in the rearview mirror to see Monnie pulling over, but the police cruiser drove past her. I should've seen this coming.

I continue to drive, I don't pull over until I'm at the front entrance of the hospital. I quickly pull out my phone and text Monnie to come get Terry if they allow her. I quickly tell Terry the plan.

“I'm so sorry. I should've just left when we had the chance. I feel so stupid,” I said, feeling myself about to cry.

“Mama, calm down. I'm fine, and I'll be okay. Alright?” Terry said.

I shook my head yes. As I'm focused on Terry, there's tapping on my side of the truck. I turn to see the sheriff.

“Terry?! Hey, son! You good?” he asked leaning to get a closer look.

“He’s hurt!” I said frantically.

“I wasn't talkin’ to you, yet.” he spat, glaring over his sunglasses at me.

“Jim. She didn't do anything,” Terry said, leaning on the window.

“You stay here. Don't fucking move, girl! Terry, we're gonna get you out of there,” the sheriff said, walking to Terry's side of the truck.

He opened the door. I could hear footsteps behind the truck. It was Monnie.

“Listen, Jim. Can she take me in?” he asked, nodding towards Monnie.

The sheriff paused and gave Monnie a once-over. “Fine. Come get him, and be careful. That one is my only concern,” he said, pointing at me.

He helped Monnie lift Terry out of the truck. She pulled Terry's arm over her shoulder. I hated this.

I watched in shame as Monnie walked Terry towards the entrance of the hospital. The front doors opened and a man came out with a wheelchair.

As I watched them sit Terry in it, guilt washed over me. If I would have just left, none of this would have happened. This really was all my fault.

Tears were streaming down my face. As I watched the sheriff walk back to my side, I knew what was about to happen.

“Step out. Hands in the air. Now!” he yelled.

Female victim en route from Dixie's to McGraw General

“Fuck!” I said out loud. That had to be a radio transmission about Taylor.

“Just comply!” he said. His tone was laced with irritation.

I opened the door and stepped out of the truck. I immediately put my hands in the air.

“Do you have anything on you?” he asked.

“No, sir,” I said, calming myself down.

He proceeded to pat me down. “Do you know why I stopped you?” he asked, pulling my arms down.

“Yes, sir,” I sighed.

“Good. Then, you know why you're under arrest,” he said placing my hands behind my back.

Before I could even try to stop it, I broke down crying. Not because I was going to jail but because I was back in the same position I was back home. I had worked so hard to never let this happen again. Yet, here I was getting arrested for assault for the third time.

I felt like all of the progress I had made was in vain. If had let Taylor cause me to regress so easily, had I even changed at all? Or, was I pretending to be someone I'm not?

My mind began to cloud over with thoughts. I was once again the big, angry monster everyone painted me out to be— always angry, aggressive, and ready to attack. The girl everyone avoided and talked about.

As he walked me to his police cruiser, I felt a sense of dread and guilt arise. The thought of not being there for Terry hurt me more than any of the words Taylor said. This was all my fault, and I couldn't even be there for him. All I had to do was keep my hands to myself and walk away, but I didn't. Now, I have to live with that decision and its consequences. What the fuck is going to happen to me now?

A/N: Remember, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by ME (theereina). Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

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milswrites · 9 months ago

Text

Rosehall

~Azriel X Reader

Summary: Azriel gives you the best mating gift in the world by introducing you to the other important woman in his life.

Warnings: none just fluff :)

Azriel had always kept secrets. You had always written it off as it being a part of his work - being the spymaster of the Night Court no doubt wracked up hundreds of them.

His entire job revolved around gathering information from the unsuspecting mouths of threatening individuals. You were sure Azriel probably knew enough secrets to tear down entire courts if he chose to spill them.

But he wouldn't.

Because something you had come to learn was that Azriel was incredibly good at keeping them. So good, in fact, that he had managed to keep one from you for the five years you had been together.

There was no doubt in your mind that Azriel was keeping something from you. In fact you didn't need to be a spymaster to notice the mysterious way he would disappear from your home some evenings with a kiss to your head and a promise that he would return.

Sometimes he would provide you with a reason, a lame excuse that you saw right through, but you would still nod and smile all the same. Peck his cheek before sending him out the door, telling him not to be too long.

If you weren't as secure in your relationship as you were, you're positive that this would have been a bigger problem for you. That you would anxiously pace the floor of your home until he returned, smelling the male as he entered just to try and see if you got a whiff of an unfamiliar perfume.

But Azriel was your mate, and that golden thread tired between you, one of the bond that had just recently been accepted, meant you had to trust the male with your entire soul. And you did.

You'd busy yourself in his absence each time he left, knowing that when the time came and he was ready, your mate would tell you where he had spent all these secretive hours.

As it turned out, you didn't have much longer to wait.

~~~~~

Azriel had told you to get ready nice and early this morning. A nervous smile across his lips as he told you he was ready to show you exactly where it was he wandered off to every other day.

A mating gift, he called it. The desire to share with you the secret he held so near and dear to his hear.

You weren't sure what to expect or how to prepare for it. But your mate kissed you on the head and told you all would be fine, that you needn't stress and he would take care of everything.

So there he was, a fragrant bouquet in his hand that wasn't for you, waiting at the bottom of the steps in your shared home. Impatiently tapping his foot as you took the time to finish getting ready.

You approached him slowly, scared that if you were to startle him by showing too much enthusiasm at the prospect of learning his hidden secret he would panic. Retreating back into the shadows as he remained secretive and untelling.

"Shall we?" He asked nervously, gulping back some of his anxiety as he did so.

The male held out his free arm for you to take, allowing you to gently grasp onto him before he willed you both to be absorbed by his shadows.

~~~~~

The dark veil of shadows lifted to reveal a picturesque view. It was a combination of thriving farmland and lush forests, a number of rolling hills kissing against the horizon in the distance. It was beautiful.

And in the center of it all, the focal point of this idyllic rural painting, there stood a quaint little cottage. The thatched roof glistening under the light of the rising sun, roses of all colours blooming in the perfect little garden which was housed by a protective wooden fence.

Azriel noticed your silent appreciation, resting his hand on the small of your back as he began to lead you in the direction of the cottage, beginning to speak as he walked, "Welcome to Rosehall. And before you get too, excited the cottage isn't the gift."

"It's beautiful!" you said in amazement, it wasn't often that you had the chance to leave Velaris and the city - as wonderful as it was - didn't bare the tranquil, natural beauty that the landscape before you did.

You didn't need the bond to tell you that your mate was anxious, the tense grip of his hand against your back told you enough. Attempting to lighten the mood you joked, "I hope this isn't where you tell me you have a wife and kids."

He released a worried laugh, cracking a wonky smile which didn't quite meet his faraway eyes, "Not a wife but... well. You'll see."

The closer and closer you got towards the cottage, the more you were able to take in. The warm light which cast a homely glow through the sparkling windows and the curling plume of grey smoke which rose from the chimney told you that the house was well-lived in.

And there was a figure tending to the garden.

A soft, feminine form who was busying themselves with planting some newly sprouting roots into the array of pots before her. Her tangled hair, which was thrown haphazardly into a bun atop of her head, was the same dark colour of your mates.

"Azriel" you whispered in shock, shaky hand flying to your mouth at the realization of who it was you were approaching. Of who it was Azriel snuck off to see so often.

~~~~~

Azriel removed his steadying hand from the small of your back, moving towards the gate before lifting the latch and entering the garden, holding it open so you could follow him inside.

The soft click of the latch being enough to alert the woman, distracting her from her task as she raised her amber eyes to you and your mate. A loving smile crossing her face as she saw who her visitor was.

She launched to her feet, bounding over to the two of you before throwing her arms around Azriel - around her son - crushing the bouquet of flowers between their bodies which were tightly pressed together in their embrace.

"Darling! I didn't expect to see you here again so soon!"

Azriel cleared his throat at her words, pulling away from the hug as he began to shuffle his feet as he looked between you and his mother, finding the words to shyly speak, "Well, I thought it was about time I introduced you to my mate. Mum this is-"

His mother didn't allow him the time to finish his sentence. Instead opting to rush towards you, pulling you into an equally tight embrace as if she had done this a million times.

"It's so lovely to finally meet you, Azriel as told me everything about you of course" she chirped. Her hands, slightly rough from her years of labor in the garden, came to rest against your blushing cheeks, "But he never told me how beautiful you are! Cauldron darling you look as though you were blessed by the mother herself."

"Mum" Azriel groaned from where he was stood, embarrassed at the way his mum was doting on you. Yet he couldn't help the small smile which trickled onto his face at the sight before him, nor the way his eyes lovingly twinkled as he watched the two people he loved most finally meeting.

"That's funny" you said, shooting a burning glare towards your mate, "he told me absolutely nothing about you."

His mum tutted, her tongue coming to click against her teeth in disappointment, chiding her son for the lack of information shared between you.

"That boy i tell you," she started, pulling you excitedly by your hand towards the door of the cottage, Azriel following in tow, "So protective. He thinks I don't get lonely living by myself in the country? No, of course I do! I could have done with your company the last few hundred years darling."

You loved his mum.

It was an easy decision to make. The way she teased her son. The way she managed to get under his skin until the tops of his ears burned red in embarrassment. The overwhelming cornucopia of love which poured from her gaze every time she looked at her son.

It was easy to see why Azriel was so cautious in telling people about his mother. You had only known this woman for a minute and you were already sure you would be absolutely devastated if any harm were to ever befall her.

Her soothing, gracious persona was infectious. Her joy sparking a ray of light inside your chest which grew more and more every second you basked in her welcoming presence.

It was understandable now, why Azriel always seemed to come back from his mysterious trips away feeling lighter and more cheerful.

It was impossible not to be whilst you were here at Rosehall, here with his mother, and not feel the contagious merriment which hung in the air as if it was the very oxygen you breathed.

She eagerly dragged you inside Rosehall, pulling you into the homely kitchen, before pouring you a drink and hurriedly sitting down at the table with you, your hands clasped tightly in her comforting ones.

Silvery tears lined her golden eyes as she took you in. Her gaze didn't hold any judgement, instead it was filled with that same overwhelming surge of love which she looked at her son with, as if she was looking at her own daughter. Hands locked together with her own flesh and blood.

"I never thought I'd see the day where my little boy brought a woman home" she squealed, lip wobbling slightly as she tried to contain her overflowing sense of delight at the fact she was finally meeting you.

Azriel grumbled defensively from where he was stood at the counter of the kitchen, arranging his mother's flowers into a vase he had acquired.

"Oh and here I was thinking he used to be a ladies man. Have a lot of trouble with women as a boy Azriel?"

His mother beamed at your banter, staring between you and her son as if the pair of you were her entire universe.

"I was just waiting for the right person to come along. Luckily for me it was my mate" he uttered as he shrugged, coming to stand behind you. Resting his large hands on your shoulders, unable to sit down as the small kitchen only housed two chairs. A sign of the lack of visitors Azriel allowed his mother to have.

"Oh what a sweet boy" his mother snapped, a playful humour lacing her tone, "waiting until he accepted the bond before he came and brought his mate to meet his own mother. Did I miss the wedding too?"

You giggled at her words as Azriel began to sputter excuses to the woman who raised him, the headstrong lady clearly wasn't going to drop the topic of his prolonged wait to introduce you anytime soon.

"Please darling," she turned back to you, her furrowed brows relaxing as she spoke, "tell me I raised my son right and he at least got you a proper mating gift. Something romantic."

You looked up to your mate, his expectant eyes meeting your own elated ones. It was your turn for your lip to quiver due to the abundance of love which radiated in this home, squeezing his mother's gentle hands as you spoke, "He's given me the best mating gift I could have asked for."

And he had. This gift had been more than just Azriel introducing you to his mother, you could see that.

No, it had been Azriel giving you a part of his soul. Sharing with you his deepest secret, one that you would cherish forever as long as it was yours to hold.

There, in the cramped cluttered kitchen of Rosehall, Azriel's world just became a whole lot bigger. And as he looked to his girls, his two beautiful girls, Azriel allowed himself to relax. A tender smile settling on his face at the realization that he had found his home. His entire heart and soul belonging to the two women before him.

He was going to have to buy another chair.

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel oneshot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar

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taylormarieee · 9 months ago

Text

Co-Stars turned Lovers A Callum Turner love story

Chapter 1: "Welcome to the Beginning"

Pairing: Callum Turner x Fem!Bestfriend!Actress!Reader

Word Count: 2.k

Warnings: Kissing for like 2 secs, none really

You and Callum were the best of friends. Every Interview didn't feel the same without the other. You and him first starred together on Fantastic Beasts: Crimes Of Grindelwald and you bonded ever since.

You loved him so much and he loves you just the same. You were always spotted around LA together, always around in photos in Paris or New York to the point rumors went around that you guys were dating.

That wasn't the case at all. You were filming a new show and it took place in Paris and sometimes New York, so you constantly had to fly back and forth and you felt alone at times.

So you always invited Callum to which he happily obliged when he was free. You booked a hotel for however long you stayed in that place and always ordered a room with two beds.

One for you, and one for Callum. He was your favourite person in the whole world as you were his. He enjoyed your company and you felt as though you couldn't live without his company.

You had separation anxiety so you always felt sad when he wasn't around and would drive or fly as many hours as it took just to be with him. He was your Earth and you were his Moon. Without you he felt as though his world wouldn't spin anymore.

Without him you felt as though you had no purpose in life. Your sole purpose was to orbit around him, be around him as much as possible. You couldn't breathe without Callum.

But there were times where you had to just thug it out and do things on your own without him. He had a life too and you didn't want to seem like that annoying friend that seemed as though she didn't have a life and was just constantly around him.

There were times you will distance yourself from him if it meant you didn't seem or look annoying. But Callum of course, the sweet soul that he is never minded you clung to him 24/7. He enjoyed it actually, it made him feel appreciated and loved.

You gave him attention like crazy and he was a mama's boy. He loved feeling your validation and feeling as if he was wanted. He was drawn to you and you were drawn to him and this was the beginning of a love story you both never anticipated. The beginning of a story you both would soon realize was fate and destiny, the universe bringing you two together.

~ Welcome to the Beginning~

"Welcome to the late late show, I'm your host James Corden and I would like to welcome out our lovely guests."

Everyone in the crowd cheers and your giggling with Callum and Austin. You were so excited to be on the Late Late Show with THE James Corden. You loved James Corden.

"Gosh why am I so nervous!" You nervously giggle and look at Callum and Austin. "Maybe it's because you love James?" Austin says with a smirk on his face. It was more of a statement then a question.

"Y/n Y/l/n, Callum Turner, and Austin Butler!" He screams out and that's your cue for all three of you to walk out. You smile and wave at all the lovely people that have come out to see you guys.

Because your the first one out because the boys decided ladies first, Your the first to give James a hug. You laughed as he gave you a big loving hug. You sat down and waited for the boys to sit.

Austin sat closest to James and Callum sat on the opposite side next to you. So in shorter words, you sat in between the two.

"Welcome Welcome!" James says happily. "It's lovely to have you guys on the show." He says.

"Well were happy to be here!" You say with a dashing smile on your face.

"Alrighty let's get started shall we? Y/N! You are a beautiful amazing woman and an even more amazing actress! What was it like to first get into acting? Who were your role models and people you would have liked to tell that they inspired you to act?" He asks.

"oo that is a wonderful question. I found it quite easy and hard at the same time. I was a very dramatic kid, as my mother would say" You say with a chuckle, the audience chuckles as well.

"And it just made things easier. But at times I was very forgetful so it was hard to remember some of my lines, but being a kid actor who's just starting you realize that the adults working with you aren't going to be harsh because your a kid, you know? So that really helped because Adults have a big impact on kids cause your taller, seem more intimidating. But no yea, it was very easy. And my role model growing up I would have to say was either Leonardo Di Caprio or Will Smith. I really liked The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air."

Everyone claps at your answer and the queit down the moment James talks, "That's a wonderful answer. I love that! Now Callum and Austin, I heard you guys went to boot camp training for Masters of the Air. What was that like? Training to just be really hot and outlook people like me?" When James maks that comment you burst out laughing and the whole crowd laughs too.

James really had a way of making jokes and making people laugh. Austin and Callum laugh as well.

"That's what I've been saying James! There both incredibly attractive and I feel like that boot camp didn't give them any training except how to make other men feel bad!" You say through laughs.

James grabs your hand and laughs with you. "Right! At least I have someone to back me up and not call me insecure, Thank you!" He says.

You nod and smile at him before letting Austin and Callum answer. "Ugh well no it was a very fun time of training to outlook other men! No I'm kidding. It was very fun and felt so real, and when you really see the work we did on the big screen it's like, woah I didn't think it would come out that good. Cuz you know behind the scenes were goofing around and having little to know clue what's gonna happen next so yea it was a huge roller coaster." Austin explains.

You nod and give out a hum of approval and look at Callum, "Do you have anything to add on to that?" James asks.

"Nope, I mean I would have said it just like that. It was very fun and having y/n on set? Oh it was never a dull moment when it came to her. We all had a lot of fun." He says. You smile and look back at James.

"Alrighty, let's get to the juicy stuff!" James says smiling. You face fall and you mutter out an "Oh no." And the crowd starts laughing because you forgot that the mic's pick up everything.

"Why oh no y/n." Your face lights up with surprise and you cover your face in embarrassment.

"Because I know exactly what the juicy stuff is! So, to answer your question, no me and Callum are not dating Mr. Corden!" You say with a laugh at the end.

"Wow! Do a lot of Interviewers ask you that question?" He asks.

"yes, everyday!" You and Callum say at the same time. "I promise you were just really good friends who hang out alot because one of us has separation anxiety from their comfort person." Callum says motioning towards you.

You laugh and then hit his arm playfully. "I'm filming between Paris and New York so you'll spot me with Callum alot because sometimes I get lonely so of course I'm gonna bring my best friend!"

"Yea there was a few times she brought me but I guess paparazzi don't see us or they do and just don't ship me and her together." Austin defends.

"Ok ok, so well then that question is moved over, completely erased."

After that the interview, you, Callum and Austin decide to go out to eat. You chose the restaurant, you always did. You never wanted to because you were always indecisive but you eventually chose a place and you guys went to dine.

Sadly, Austin couldn't stay with you guys as his girlfriend called and needed him home for something urgent. Something about her cutting her hand. You both said your goodbyes and wished she was ok before sitting and ordering.

This was the night you realized your true feelings for Callum Turner...

This was the night you would never forget... The night it all happened and was brushed off as a mistake.

"Callum... today was so exhausting. I hate when people ship us, I mean I don't hate James, I'm just tired of getting asked that same question over and over again! Aren't you?" You ramble on about today's earlier events.

"I mean, if i'm being honest... I don't care. Me and you both know were best friends so why bother entertaining it." he says as he leans closer to you from across the table.

"Unless of course...You wanna deny the fact that you would ever date me? Do you not love me or something?" He teases with a smirk on his face.

That. That right there is what started it... What started your feelings and the electricity that shot down your spine.

"N-No that's... that's not what I'm saying or i-implying Callum!" You say nervously. You were never nervous around Callum.

"Mhmm yeah...sure." He says still leaning forward even closer to you know. 'Maybe he's intoxicated' you thought. He was never this straightforward with you or even this flirtatious with you.

You guys were drinking in the car but not heavily. His hand reaches your cheek and you giggle nervously. "C-Callum what are you doing?" You ask nervously.

"I'm feeling your face duh! What else would I possibly be doing..." He says. You notice he's not making eye contact with you but more so your lips. You lick them nervously and you see his eyebrow raise for a second.

He leans in just a little closer whispering a "God your so beautiful" before he kisses you. Your eyes are wide and you melt into it. He quickly breaks away and apologizes before you could even kiss him back.

"Oh my lord, I'm sorry... i don't know what came over me. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable that-that was a mistake." He says before rubbing his face with his hands.

"I-It's ok Callum. I'm not uncomfortable. Let's just eat ok?" You say with a sweet smile to hide the sadness in your face from him. He sweetly smiles back at you and you both indulge.

That night was a night you've never forgotten but what you were completely oblivious too was that that night was unforgettable to Callum too.

He thought about that night everyday he looked at you... everytime he touched you... everytime he sees lip gloss coat your full lips.

It plagued his mind like a virus corrupting a humans mind. He wanted you badly but he knew he couldn't have you. He couldn't ruin this relationship he had with you, this beautiful friendship, but goddamn were you addicting.

you and Callum were polar opposites yet destined to be together...If only you two could open your eyes and see what is right in front of you.

You and him were made for each other, you just needed to find each other. Like two lost souls searching for a purpose. Like the Earth and the Moon, they look platonic but one can't live without the other. Destined to fall in love either way.

Love, fate, and desire... Something you two need to give into in order to find yourselves.

Taglist: @dustbunniess @willyoubemycherryy and anyone else that wants to join!

#my man <3 #callum turner #Callum #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner major john bucky egan

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sansaorgana · 1 month ago

Text

— BLESSED (III)

PART ONE || PART TWO

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!half-Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — You have no choice but to follow Sauron and your daughter to Mordor because you do not want to abandon her. As time passes, you find yourself being lured by your husband's charm once more as the memories of his cruelty in Eregion begin to fade away.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — And here we are go with the last part! I know I probably write Sauron's relationship with his daughter in a very idealistic way – that in canon he would be most likely way worse. But writing it like that would bring me no joy. 🤷🏻‍♀️ It's a fic for dad!Sauron and I want him to be at least a bit decent while we're at it! 😤

WARNINGS — Reader's father is dead (he was human, so she outlived him), manipulating, gaslighting, toxic and abusive marriage between the Reader and Sauron, Sauron being a very mid dad who manipulates his daughter and teaches her how to be evil like him, child in danger (nothing happens in the end), murder (of the Orcs), Celebrimbor has gone mad-mad, immaculate conception (yes, again!)

WORD COUNT — 4,450

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

BLESSED (III)

Celebrimbor was out of his mind again. Your heart ached for him as you were sitting next to him and caressing his hair softly as if he was a child. He had spent centuries taking care of you and now it was your turn to return the favour. You kept sobbing, feeling angry at yourself that you could not protect him.

Sauron was gone. After finding out where The Rings were, he had left in a hurry, leaving you with a few Orcs that had come to the forge in the meantime. They wanted to plead their allegiance to your husband and the very first task they had been given was to watch over you, your daughter and your uncle. To make sure none of you would escape.

Almárea was not scared of them, which surprised you. In fact, she approached them and kept asking them a million questions as the Orcs were growing a little frustrated with her curiosity. They were, however, answering all her questions patiently. You cracked a smile at that. She was still a child – curious and so full of life.

So full of light, too. You could not let the darkness win within her.

“I shall not allow him to hurt you, uncle. I shall not, I promise,” you kissed Celebrimbor’s forehead and your uncle looked up at you with hazy eyes and a loving smile. “You have endured and suffered so much because of him already. But no more, no more, uncle… Now you must rest.”

“Your daughter…” He mumbled out and you looked down at his face with a sad smile. “Is she not the most precious? She is the exact copy of you, sweet (Y/N). You were a girl like her once, running around this very forge.”

“I remember, uncle,” you sobbed. “I remember it vividly. My father and you working together, my mother still happy and full of life, before she began a lifetime of mourning. I remember…”

You pulled him closer and tried to come up with an idea how to save him. Even if Sauron would not kill him – he had made this promise to Almárea when she had revealed to him Lady Galadriel had been the one to have The Rings now and you wanted to believe he would keep that promise – you still had a feeling your husband would use Celebrimbor somehow or hurt him.

“Almárea?” You called out for her and she turned around to lay her eyes upon you. You beckoned her over and she nodded at the Orcs before running up to you. “Almárea, do you want uncle Celebrimbor to be safe?”

“Of course, mummy,” your daughter’s eyes widened.

“Can you distract them as I walk him out of here? I will be right back,” you whispered as you pointed at the Orcs with your chin.

“I do not know, mummy… Last time I listened to you, daddy was very angry…” She looked down, nervously.

“Almárea, please. Do you love uncle Celebrimbor?” You asked.

“Yes, of course,” she nodded.

“Then, please…”

“But will you come back to me? Truly?” She lifted up her eyes and looked into yours with a hint of anxiety.

“My darling, always. I shall never abandon you,” you promised, truthfully. Your heart ached at the thought she was not as sure of it as you were.

Eventually, she nodded as she turned around towards the Orcs once more. She ran up to them joyfully and kept asking them questions. When you moved up, dragging Celebrimbor with you, they did not even flinch, which meant that your daughter’s deception was working.

You felt bad for leaving her with them even for a short moment but at this moment it was your uncle who was the most vulnerable and who needed you more. You owed him that, at least.

You walked him out of the forge and hurried to the secret tunnel below the city. The Orcs who had taken over Eregion were feasting now in havoc in the courtyard, which distracted them enough to make it possible for you to lead your uncle safely to the passage.

You walked inside with him and he was following you like a trusting child. In the middle of the passage, you bumped into Herald Elrond. Your heart was in joy to see him and to know that he was safe. He had been some sort of a cousin to you – his father had also been a friend of Celebrimbor and he also was a half-Elf. You had many things in common and you had been close friends in your youth.

“(Y/N), thank the Valar,” he sighed. “Where is your daughter? I was sent here by the High King to make an attempt to rescue you and–” He began.

“I must go back,” you shook your head with your eyes full of tears. “Take uncle Celebrimbor to safety. Heal his mind. Forget about me,” you pleaded and he furrowed his brows.

“What are you talking about?” He asked. “Where is Almárea?”

“Please, Elrond. You must not know,” you insisted before kissing your uncle’s forehead once more and caressing his cheeks to tell him goodbye.

“(Y/N)!” Elrond called out for you when you turned around to go back to Eregion and to your daughter.

“If you love me and respect me,” you began. “If you love Celebrimbor… Just take him away from here. That is all I ask for,” you insisted and hurried back to Eregion. “Do not follow me!” You exclaimed after hearing him trying to rush after you.

He eventually listened to you because he had a huge love for Celebrimbor and he could see the state of him was not the best. You heard the sound of their steps subduing as you went back to Eregion.

You went back to the forge, feeling a bit more peaceful on the inside, knowing that you managed to save your uncle from Sauron. You nodded at Almárea and she nodded back at you, visibly relieved to see you coming back to her.

Her father came back not long after, too. He was wearing a breastplate and holding Morgoth’s crown in his hand, which was dripping blood – you could feel from afar its purity and light. It was Elven.

“Have you killed her?” You whispered with widened eyes.

“Sadly, no,” Sauron answered with a smirk. “But I got The Nine,” he added and you looked away, feeling defeated. “Speaking of, where is Celebrimbor?”

“Far away,” you mumbled out, expecting him to lash out.

Surprisingly, he did not. He shrugged his arms.

“Whatever. He is no use to me anymore. Almárea, we are leaving,” he extended his free hand and nodded at her.

“You cannot take her away from me!” You turned your head around again to watch what she would do. She hesitated but then she ran up to him and squeezed his hand, which felt like a punch straight into your heart.

“Where are we going, daddy?” She asked.

“To our new home,” Sauron answered and turned around, dragging her behind him but she remained still. “What is it?” He asked with an irritated sigh.

“We are taking mummy with us, right?” She asked.

Long silence occurred. Sauron laid his cold and empty eyes upon you, sitting on the floor with your back pressed to the wall and crying silent tears.

“It is her choice,” he answered, softly, “but I doubt she wants to go with us.”

“On the contrary. I have no choice,” you gritted your teeth, clumsily standing up. “I must go where she goes. Even if it is a path I hate to follow.”

“Do you truly realise who I am?” Your husband titled his head at your words. “All the stories they have told you about me when you were a child – I am worse than any of them.”

“I am fully aware,” you approached him and held Almárea’s free hand. “And that is why I must go to make sure you do not turn her into a monster like you.”

It took you a few days of travel with the filthy army of Orcs to get to Mordor. You and Sauron did not exchange a single word during this trip. Almárea was riding with you on your horse for half of the day and then she would go to ride with her father. You made no stops on your way, so after arriving in Mordor, you and your daughter were exhausted.

The land was dark and barren, full of fire and ashes. It looked like hell but you decided not to complain because you realised you were on thin ice already – Sauron did not treat you like his consort in any way. Apparently, you would be nothing but a mother to his child from now on. Any sign of disobedience could be punished with exile and that was the last thing you wanted. You needed to be close to your daughter.

He ordered the Orcs to build him a grand fortress but until then, you resided in a big mansion that had once belonged to a rich human family of The Southlands. You had an awful view of Mount Doom from there and the rooms were all beautifully decorated but also dusty and worn out.

Once again – you did not complain. You did not dare.

You followed Sauron to the chambers he had decided would be yours and Almárea’s. He was carrying her in his arms as she was half-asleep already. You watched him put her to bed and caress her head as you sat down on the chair next to the bed. You held her little hand and squeezed it lovingly, watching her drift off to the land of dreams. Those past few days had been difficult and exhausting for her.

Sauron straightened his back and looked down at you with a bit of contempt but also affection – mixed together, they made you feel deeply uncomfortable.

“Do you remember?” He asked, speaking his very first sentence to you in days.

You furrowed your brows and looked up at him, questioningly. Your husband extended his hand and touched your cheek with it.

At that moment, your vision got blurry and you felt yourself go back in time a few years to one, specific memory. One of the most beautiful days you had ever lived.

You were sitting by the river, in a field full of flowers. Almárea was about a year old and clumsily taking her first steps. You watched Annatar helping her and chuckling at her harmless but funny falls as she kept giggling and blabbering, excitedly. The sun was slowly setting and you felt at peace. You truly believed your whole life would be just like that.

When Sauron took his hand away from your face, you found yourself back in Mordor, stripped of any faith and any dignity.

“Why did you show me that?” You asked him, angrily, as your eyes filled with fresh tears.

“It was the only moment when I felt that I should, perhaps, abandon my old life and remain in Eregion as Annatar by your side forever,” he confessed.

“Perhaps you should have,” was all you answered, in a whisper nearly inaudible as you watched him walk away with tears streaming down your cheeks.

You had cried out so many of them recently that you were starting to feel hollow and empty.

Weeks passed, maybe months. You had lost track of time since all your days were the same. You were given quite a lot of freedom because Sauron was sure you would never leave his side as long as Almárea was there. You were allowed to walk around the mansion and even take walks although you did not crave them at all since Mordor was not the perfect place to spend time outside.

You were barely exchanging any words with your husband and you seemed to avoid each other. However, he was making sure you were not short on anything. Once in a while there was a package waiting for you on your bed. Inside it you would find gifts – books to read or new dresses. And yesterday you had found an embroidery set, which filled your heart with joy.

You missed embroidery and you even considered it quite thoughtful that he had remembered about it. So, you were sitting by the window and focusing on your craft, trying to recreate Mount Doom, which your daughter loved for some reason. You wanted to make her happy.

You were focused on your work when the doors opened loudly, making you misplace the needle and hurt yourself as you hissed and looked up at your husband.

“Where is Almárea?” He asked, looking around the room.

“Is she not with you? Are you not teaching her your craft of treachery and deception like every day?” You asked with a sigh, defeated.

Sauron rolled his eyes but decided not to comment on your remark.

“I told her to go back to her mother about two hours ago,” he informed you and your heart skipped a beat at that revelation.

“Why didn’t you walk her here yourself?” You asked.

“I had an important matter to attend to and it is not like she is a toddler, is it?” Sauron clenched his jaw but you spotted a glimpse of panic in his eyes. “Where is she?”

“How can I know?! I thought she was with you!” You stood up instantly and put your embroidery set down before rushing out of your chambers. “Almárea!” You called out. “Almárea!”

“Have you seen Lady Almárea?” Sauron asked one of the Orcs walking down the hall.

“N-no, my Lord Sauron,” the Orc shook his head and you watched your husband sit his throat just like that. Usually, you found this behaviour of his dreadful. But now you were too scared and worried for your daughter to care

You kept searching for her all over the mansion, calling out her name, leaving a pile of dead Orcs behind because none of them could answer Sauron about Almárea’s location.

“I think she must have gone outside,” you said after bumping into your husband in the corridor. You watched his eyes widen even further in terror and concern. You snorted at that. “What are you? Scared of losing your precious tool?” You asked him with contempt.

That only angered him further as he grabbed your arm and squeezed it so tightly that you were sure there was a bruise forming already.

“Do not ever say that again,” he drawled out through gritted teeth right into your face. “Do not speak of matters you have no idea of.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded. Despite everything between you two – it seemed like you shared a thread together and that was love for your daughter. And because you were a worried mother, you regretted inflicting any pain upon a worried father.

“Forgive me,” you whispered and he let go of your arm.

“Do you have any idea where she could go?” Sauron asked you and you shook your head before freezing as you realised.

“Mount Doom,” you whispered. “For some reason, she adores it,” you explained.

“We must not waste any moment then,” Sauron grabbed your wrist and dragged you behind him as you two ran out of the mansion.

The forsaken volcano was not very far away from your home but it still took you quite a while to get there. The air was poisonous around it, making you choke and tear up. You were no mortal, therefore you were in no danger, but it was still an inconvenience.

“If anything happened to her, I shall be the one to kill you, whatever it takes!” You threatened your husband and he did not even say anything to this. He let go of your wrist and proceeded to climb up.

You followed him but in many places the ground was slippery and you needed his support. His hand would grab you each time you stumbled and pull you up.

Breathing heavily, both covered in dirt from the ashes, you stood there, petrified, seeing Almárea sitting by the edge of the volcano and staring at it spitting out fire. She seemed to be content with her position. You looked up at Sauron with terror in your eyes and he left you behind to approach your daughter with extended hands.

“Almárea, what are you doing here? Have you not been told to never go outside without me or your mother?” Sauron asked, carefully.

“Ugh, daddy, I know, I am sorry. I was just so curious about this mountain and guess what? It is even better than I have imagined,” she confessed with a smile. “Do you know what it reminds me of?”

“What, Almárea?” He asked, taking a few more small steps closer to her.

“A forge,” she answered. “I miss uncle Celebrimbor’s one and this place makes me feel as if I was back there. Oh, daddy, can you imagine all the beautiful things we could craft here?” She asked with a smile.

Sauron froze for a moment as you watched the scene with a raised eyebrow. He looked around as if he had just realised something brilliant.

“Yes, I can, my darling. And we will,” he assured her. “But please, come to me and mummy now, will you?” He extended his hand even further and she nodded, eagerly.

You both gasped watching her stand up because one little wrong move could cause her to fall down the volcano. She, however, seemed to be oblivious. She skipped along towards her father and Sauron picked her up in an instant, squeezing her tight and caressing the back of her head.

Your heart swelled inside your chest at the realisation that he truly cared for her and truly loved her – even if it was not enough to save her from making her play a part in his schemes.

“Can we go back home, please?” You pleaded and it was the very first time you called that awful place your home.

Sauron nodded at you and you began your walk down the mountain. You were still shaking slightly and holding onto his sleeve to make sure you would not fall. Just like in the old days, he was bringing you comfort and safety – he was making you feel protected even if it was only being protected from a fall.

When you reached your mansion, Sauron took Almárea to the chambers she shared with you. Her skin and robes were dirty with mud and ashes, therefore you prepared her a bath and helped her to undress and get inside the bathtub.

“Call for me if you need anything,” you told her as you placed a new dress on the chair for her to dress herself into after the bath. “Be careful, my darling,” you smiled at her and left her alone in the bathroom, although you left the door ajar just in case.

Sauron was still inside your chambers and staring out of the window at Mount Doom. You sighed at the sight of his back turned on you and you decided to approach him softly.

Your hands acted before you allowed them to and they placed themselves on his arm softly. Your body ached for him and his presence; it was too used to his touch.

He flinched a little and turned his head around to look down at you with a puzzled expression.

“I miss you,” you confessed. “I miss being close to you,” you added.

“You miss Annatar, not me,” he shrugged his arms and looked out of the window again.

“Was Annatar not you? From the very beginning, my husband was Sauron. I only chose to be blind to see it,” you whispered and he looked back at you again, surprised to hear your words.

“Do I not repulse you?” He snorted.

“It does not change the fact I love you still,” you sighed and pressed your cheek to his arm. You both remained dirty from the ashes but you did not mind that all because today’s shared experience of fear and concern for your daughter had brought you two close together once more.

“Your love differs from mine,” he pointed out, a little harshly.

“It has not escaped me,” you let out a chuckle and nuzzled your face deeper into his sleeve. “But it is alright that we love differently. I do not want to be your Queen, I do not want you to share your power with me. All I want is to–”

“Have a family with me,” Sauron finished the sentence softly and you looked up at him, gently. It was the very first time in a long time when your eyes filled with affection for him again. “I was never keen on the idea of having offspring,” he admitted. “But then you made me realise what a blessing children might be,” he cracked a smile and raised his hand to caress your cheek. “I was terrified of my potential child stealing my powers and overthrowing me but Almárea… Her powers and her mind terrify me in the most exquisite way. Do you know why she is so perfect?” He asked and you shook your head. “Because she is half you. She is half light and half darkness. The perfect balance and what else could possibly heal Middle-earth?”

You hated yourself but you found yourself falling for his beautiful words once again. You could never be sure after everything that had happened if his sweet nothings, promises and love declarations were ever genuine. Perhaps, you would forever wonder about it. But despite all of that, the dreadful memories of Eregion’s downfall and his behaviour then were becoming blurry with time and you were ready to move on; to start another chapter with him.

And, as usual, you had an excuse for your husband, too. He had been nervous then. Of course he had been the worst version of himself. But it did not mean he would always be like this. Right now he was not.

“Come here, my love,” Sauron pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around you. “Oh, how I have missed you, too, my darling. And even though it brought me great pain, I knew I had to wait for you to come to me out of your own free will.”

“Here I stand,” you whispered and a single tear streamed down your cheek.

“Almárea asked me about us,” Sauron put his hands on your arms and moved away slightly to be able to look at your face. “She wonders if we still love each other. I told her it was complicated.”

“I told her the very same thing,” you smiled sadly.

“But it is not, is it?” He raised an eyebrow and you shook your head, laughing nervously through your tears.

“No,” you admitted. “It is not.”

“It is true that I had my reasons to choose you out of all Elven maidens. And it is true that I was scared of having a son with you because I thought that the chances of a son overthrowing me would be higher,” he admitted and you furrowed your brows. “But you have become the most dear to me, the most precious,” he confessed and turned you around, making you look at Mount Doom as his hands lowered themselves to your abdomen.

You knew what he was about to do. You flinched at first, torn on the inside if it was truly what you wanted. Last time you had been deceived but now you would willingly allow it, despite knowing the true nature of the man who was your husband.

You looked down at his hands resting on your womb. He was still wearing a golden ring on his finger that you had put there on the day of your wedding. And you were still wearing yours because you still loved him despite hating yourself for it. You still wanted to be around him as if he was something addictive that you could not live without. And your womb was still open for more of his offspring.

You relaxed and when he sensed your consent, you could feel the warmth radiating off of his hands and filling you up, forming a new life inside of you.

You put your hands on top of his and squeezed them for courage.

“A son,” he whispered into your ear with lots of satisfaction and excitement.

“Another tool for you to use,” you pointed out.

“Another child for you to love and spoil,” Sauron brushed your hair strand and leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Another thread of love binding us together.”

“Mummy? Daddy?” Almárea’s voice made you both turn around. She walked out of the bathroom in her new dress and kept looking at you two with a big grin. “Does it mean you are in love again?” She asked, full of hope.

“Oh, my darling, we have never stopped being in love,” you assured her and opened your arms to allow her to give you a hug. You did not want her to know all the details about the nature of your relationship with her father. She had already seen and witnessed way too much.

She wrapped her arms around you and hugged you tight, which only made her smile grow even wider as she looked up.

“I am going to have a sibling!” She exclaimed, happily, after sensing the new life inside of you.

“You are going to have many,” Sauron spoke as he reached his hand out to caress her hair. “And each of you will get their own kingdom to rule over in my name and their own Ring,” he shared his new plan as a shiver went down your spine. “And all Middle-earth will be healed at once for your mother’s light and my darkness combine like two precious metals; balancing and amplifying everything I could ever be on my own.”

“But… But you will still rule over us all, right, daddy?” Almárea asked hopefully, as if she was already scared of the responsibility that one day would be put upon her shoulders.

“Oh, of course, little one,” Sauron smiled lovingly at her. “I shall always bear the biggest burden of power for that is a father’s one to carry.”

He loved her – of that you were sure now. But no amount of his love could protect her from his schemes and his manipulations. Therefore, he had to love you as well and no amount of cruelty he had put you through contradicted it.

That was the way Sauron loved. It was a cursed devotion but also a blessed one.

MASTERLIST

#sauron x reader #annatar x reader #halbrand x reader #lilysfiction

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kalki-tarot · 10 months ago

Text

A conversation between you and your future spouse – timeless pac 💌

Disclaimer : this reading is for entertainment purposes only and does not guarantee any possible outcomes. Tarot is not 100% correct all the times. Your life is in your hands and you are responsible for your own actions and decisions.

Pile one 💫

This situation seems like some third party is affecting your relationship. The third party can be anything from people to things to addictions etc. You assumed thay future spouse may have lied to you about something which caused a fight between you guys. Remember that fights are normal in a relationship. And can be resolved with proper communication and understanding.

Your fs : See, I'm too disappointed with this situation and i deeply regret it. But you see, it's not entirely my fault..

You : I'm completely heartbroken because of you

Your fs : I clearly left and ignored that woman when she approached me darling, I walked away! I don't even know that woman!

Your anger calms down when your fs explains themselves. And you feel relieved. You may have insecurities about your fs leaving you for some other woman, so you got angry.

You : You know that I'm scared of you leaving me alone for someone else

Your fs : I know that, and i will never leave you sweetheart! Do you get that!? Don't get insecure about anything. I'm always yours. You are my better half and you are the only one with whom i feel at home, at peace.

Your fs comforts you and tells you how much you mean to them and you need not worry about anything or anyone. They also hug you and rub your back for sometime. This situation may take place while you guys are on a trip or traveling somewhere.

Pile two 💫

Wow, this conversation will take place when you are getting married or about to get married to your fs. You are happy and excited but you are also having racing thoughts and a restless heart. You are just feeling nervous about the whole thing, some of you guys actually suffer from overthinking and anxiety. And you are having intrusive thoughts at this moment.

Your fs : Hey honey ~ why are you standing there all alone? Come! Have fun with all our friends and relatives. Let's have a drink together ^^

You just stand there silent and say : Umh, I'm actually kinda scared.. to get married i guess..? This all seems to fast to me. I'm having intrusive thoughts, my mind is thinking of all the possibilities ahh! I'm getting frustrated... this feels like a big change for me. It's not that i don't want to get married with you it's just.. too fast for me!

Your fs : Hey hey hey! Calm down! I'm here for you. This may feel too fast but think of how joyful you were when we first decided to get married! It's a new beginning for both of us, i can understand you. You just need to relax. Don't worry about anything, I'll take the lead and do everything for you. You just take a deep breathe and calm yourself.

Your fs calms you down and assures you. You feel better when you hear them talk about taking care of you well. And you know from the deep corners of your heart that they will make a good spouse. Your anxiety feels relieved. And you are happy to have them in your life as a counterpart.

Pile 03 💫

This conversation can happen when you are going through a tough time in regards of your career. You are struggling between work and deadlines. You are completely exhausted but you are still working hard. Even people in your workplace may not appreciate you enough and you feel disappointed with yourself.

Your fs : hey nerd ;) where your eyes lookin' at? Come let's have some fun, take a break would you? Let's go out somewhere shall we?

You : Can you please not disturb me? I'm doing something important rn. And I'm not going anywhere till i finish this !

You frown and continue with your work. Your fs notices that.

Your fs : what happened dear? Is everything alright ? Are you stressed about anything?

You : yes! I am! Anything to do with you?

Your fs : why are u getting mad sweetie? 😋

You : AHHAHASAHAH, I'm so f**king stressed about this damn work i have to do. no one even notices my hardwork and patience! I'm sick of this!

Your fs : I appreciate you, your family appreciates you and you should change your godamn job if it keeps you hurting all the time yk? You have so much money already you should start some business or smth.

You : You know what! You are absolutely correct. I should start something of my own.

Your fs motivated you to leave your toxic work environment and start something of your own.

#tarot reading #tarot blog #tarot cards #tarot #pick a card #tarot and astrology #tarot asks #pick a pile #tarot community #tarotblr #tarot deck #tarot readings #future spouse reading #free tarot #twin flame #divine feminine #future spouse #psychic readings

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poisonlove · 10 months ago

Text

Study Session | c.s

pairing: Cairo Sweet X fem reader

Summary: Y/n is terrible in literature and needs a hand

"Miss Y/S, could you come here for a moment, please?" Mr. Miller asks kindly.

I blink in surprise and walk towards the lectern, my feet almost stumbling on the wooden floorboards. I blush with embarrassment, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Cairo looking towards us with seriousness, organizing her belongings.

I swallow nervously and bite my lower lip, my eyes first glancing at Cairo and then at Professor Miller.

Ora non è il momento di pensare alla tua cotta unilaterale, sì, mi rimprovero mentalmente.

I force a smile and look at the professor with genuine curiosity. "Do you need something, sir?" I say, smiling happily, trying to hide my nervousness.

"I'm not sure how to put this..." Professor Miller sighs and takes off his glasses, looking up to meet our eyes. My smile falters seeing the concern and distress behind his eyes. Professor Miller sighs and takes the assignment I had done last week in his hands.

"It's... It's a mediocre work," he says hesitantly, almost embarrassed.

"To be honest... If you don't do something that impresses me, Miss, you'll fail my class," he says with a tone of voice almost guilty.

My palms sweat, and I try to remain calm. I knew I was really bad at literature, but I didn't expect to fail the year altogether. But what can I say? No matter how hard I try, I can't adequately transcribe what I think onto paper.

"I'm sorry," I whisper reluctantly, deeply ashamed of myself.

Professor Miller gives me a gentle smile, tilting his head slightly as he places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"You have great potential," he states with conviction, trying to instill confidence in me. "But you simply have a few more difficulties," he concludes with a compassionate tone, seeking my gaze empathetically.

I stare into his eyes, noticing the intention of conveying moral support.

"Miss Sweet," Professor Miller calls Cairo's attention, making her focus on him.

"Yes, Professor Miller?" she responds with a radiant smile, her eyes shining for... some strange reason.

"Could you help Y/N?" the professor asks, looking at me sideways.

His request makes me feel slightly offended for not having a say, but at the same time, it puts me in a state of anxiety because I would have to work with the girl I've always liked.

Cairo's eyes focus on my figure with curiosity, making me feel nervous and embarrassed by her enchanting beauty. A small smile spreads across her lips before she looks at the literature professor.

Brown eyes looking at Mr. Miller.

"Alright," Cairo responds with a shy smile, which also makes the professor smile.

I raise an eyebrow in confusion, observing this strange scene with curiosity and a hint of suspicion.

Cairo's smile is kind but enigmatic, as if hiding something behind that seemingly calm façade. I wonder what it could be, but I decide not to delve too deeply into it at that moment.

Professor Miller seems pleased with her acceptance and nods with a pleased expression. "Great! I'm sure you'll make an exceptional team," he comments enthusiastically, encouraging us to work together towards our common goal.

"Cairo," says the professor, maintaining a dazzling smile, "if you succeed in the task, you'll earn an extra credit," he announces proudly, turning his gaze towards his student with a mixture of hope and trust.

Cairo smiles weakly, visibly embarrassed by the attention she's received.

"Well then," I intervene timidly, trying to dissipate the strange tension that has arisen, "shall we?" I add, looking at the girl I've always had a secret crush on with flushed cheeks.

Despite my shyness and the nervousness that overwhelms me, I strive to maintain a calm and decisive tone, hoping to convey confidence both to myself and to Cairo as we prepare to face this new challenge together.

(...)

"So... What do you think?" I say nervously, my hands fidgeting with the threads of my jeans.

I roll a thread around my finger and pull it, tossing it into the grass.

Cairo's eyes fixate on my paper attentively, her pupils moving along my essay with seriousness. The brunette lowers the sheet and looks at me carefully.

"Well?" I say, feeling my stomach tied up with nerves. "Hmm..." She starts hesitantly, tilting her head and leaning against the tree behind her.

The day was perfect, and we had mutually agreed to spend it outdoors doing literature. The rays filtering through the branches highlight Cairo's face, making her eyes appear light brown

She was... Beautiful.

"Is it okay?" She says timidly.

Cairo hands me back the paper, and I sigh in frustration. I could sense that something was missing.

"Come on... Tell me the truth," I say, looking at Cairo curiously. The brunette bites her lower lip and adjusts her posture.

"So... It's not bad, but..." she starts and bites her lower lip, thoughtful. "It lacks emotion... I don't see the passion... I don't perceive anything," she confesses, and I pout.

Darn it... I wanted the truth, but it was entirely heavy

"I knew I shouldn't have spoken," she quickly says, quickly moving her hand, noticing my frown on her lips. "It's perfect," she smiles broadly, and my eyes soften seeing how sweet and cute she was with that expression on her face.

The dimple was adorable, and her eyes sparkled when she talked about something related to writing.

"No... I asked you to be honest, and you were," I say quickly, smiling.

Her eyes look at me with curiosity, and I try to maintain eye contact as much as possible. "Okay..." Cairo murmurs before giving in to this staring contest, taking her notebook.

"I... " I start hesitantly, "have an old piece that I'd like you to read," I say timidly.

I was aware of the risk that she would realize it was about her, but despite that, I thought it was my best work. After all, I wrote it with all the love I feel for her.

"Oh... I'd be happy to," she says sincerely, her pearly whites showing her beautiful smile. Cairo's eyes light up at the mention of reading something, and she quickly reaches her hand towards me.

Shyly, I grab my backpack and search for my work, immediately noticing that it was sandwiched between two notebooks. My cheeks were red from embarrassment for having something so special to me crumpled and carelessly thrown in my backpack.

Cairo takes it without making any comment on its sorry state and begins to read it.

"In the twilight of our intertwined destinies..." The brunette had a focused expression, her voice soft and enveloping.

I wait with trepidation, observing every nuance of her expressions

"she emerges like an elusive shadow, a siren of my lost dreams, with chestnut locks like the earth." Cairo sighs "Her eyes, deep as the abyss of the soul, reflect falling stars and unfathomable secrets, like dark water on a moonless night, where the lost traveler wanders." Cairo suddenly stops, lips still suspended on the sentence.

Her gaze drifts amidst the words as a wave of emotion envelops her voice.

I remain silent, captivated by her interpretation.

The brunette continues, her voice now softer, almost whispered. "Her smile, a fleeting glimpse of light, a glimmer of hope in the darkness, yet also an echo of sadness in the relentless passage of time, a memory of what could have been."

Cairo voice resonates with the melody of the words, conveying every nuance of emotion contained within the text.

I was completely captivated by her facial expressions.

"Yet, amid the folds of uncertain destiny, remains a lost innocence and an unspoken love, an incomplete harmony, an unexpressed desire, like a melody interrupted in the night wind."

"In her breath dance promises of another life, where perhaps our hearts will meet, in the stillness of a world without end, where time is not the master of our destinies."

Cairo tightens the grip on the paper.

"But for now we part ways, like the waves leaving the shore, destined to wander alone in the depths of time. Yet, in the deepest recesses of my being, her essence remains engraved like an ancient melody."

As she reads those words, Cairo's tone of voice becomes soft and melancholic, conveying a sense of nostalgia and sadness. Her words are filled with emotion, with a slight tremor in her voice reflecting the depth of her feelings. Cairo seems to be carried away by the intensity of the text, and her reading is infused with an aura of melancholy and reflection.

"And so I venture into the night, with her memory as my guide, suspended between the pain of loss and the hope of return. In the silence of my soul, I continue to dream, hoping that one day our destinies will intertwine again."

After finishing the reading, Cairo remains silent for a moment, her gaze lost in deeper thoughts. I can sense her mind in turmoil, her eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and admiration. Then, slowly, she lifts her gaze towards me, a spark of interest shining in her coffee-colored eyes.

"Who is the muse behind this extraordinary piece?" she asks, her voice warm and full of curiosity, while her expression reflects a sincere desire to understand the hidden meaning behind the words.

I knew perfectly well that I couldn't say it was her, so I just shrugged nonchalantly. "No one in particular," I add calmly, even though my heart was beating rapidly inside me.

"Yet it seems so specific," Cairo observes, glancing at the paper.

Her words make me uncomfortable, but I try to maintain composure. "It's just a product of my imagination," I say with a forced smile, hoping to divert attention away from myself.

"The only certainty is that she's a brown-haired girl with brown eyes," Cairo asserts with a mischievous smile, and a shiver runs down my spine. "The classic always attracts, it seems," she adds, chuckling softly.

Her observation makes me feel like butterflies are doing acrobatics in my stomach.

"Don't be stubborn now," I blurt out in embarrassment, trying to deflect attention from the imminent truth that Cairo is about to uncover with her acute intelligence.

Cairo bursts into laughter, a sound so genuine and contagious that it makes me feel special. Her laughter fills the air around us, wiping away any traces of embarrassment and fear, and I find myself laughing along with her, feeling light and free.

Cairo stops laughing and smiles, a look of sincerity painted on her face.

"It seems you were good at freelancing after all," she observes with a light and friendly tone.

Her comment makes me feel appreciated and recognized for my abilities, and I smile in response. "Thank you," I reply with gratitude, feeling encouraged by her approval.

"I think Professor Miller will like it," Cairo continues, biting her lower lip, lost in her thoughts.

A strange sparkle lights up her eyes, and at that moment, I decide to ask her a question that has tormented me for too long.

"Cairo do you have a crush on Professor Miller?" I ask timidly, curious but also intimidated by the possible answer.

Cairo blushes deeply. "What on earth are you asking?" she responds sharply, clearly embarrassed.

"From the way you react to his mention..." I say with curiosity, "and also you're completely red," I add with a timid smile.

Cairo shakes her head firmly. "No, no," she responds promptly, "I admire Professor Miller, but I don't have a crush on him. He's old, and, above all, he's married." Her tone is decisive.

"Well, gray hair isn't very attractive, right?" I ask with a smile on my lips, while I observe Cairo nodding slightly, smiling broadly and showing her dimples.

Freckles surround her face as her hair falls gracefully around her shoulders.

Cairo looks up at the sky, which is turning orange at sunset, a sign that the day is coming to an end. "I think it's time to go," she says timidly, almost regretfully.

"Is the study session over already?" I say in surprise, pouting.

Cairo nods and smiles. "So, do you like literature now?" she winks, teasing me.

"Not exactly, but the lesson goes better with you," I reply, aware of what I'm saying and noticing the slight blush on Cairo's cheeks.

I realize what I've said afterward and feel terribly embarrassed. A wave of nervousness overwhelms me as I notice a hint of pink on Cairo's cheeks.

Oh darn, I want to die, I think dramatically.

Cairo looks away. "Well, see you tomorrow.""Ah, yes, of course! See you tomorrow," I reply, trying to hide my embarrassment behind a smile. I feel the heat rising in my face as the embarrassment grows inside me. "Thank you for today, it was... interesting," I quickly add, hoping to alleviate the strange tension that had arisen.

"Thanks to you," she says softly, her gaze warm and comforting.

With a smile on my lips, I watch Cairo walk away. Despite the day starting off badly, it ended in the best possible way.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #professor #miller's girl #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #study session #fluff

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holylulusworld · 18 days ago

Text

Their little maid (2)

Summary: Mafia business is dirty. The brothers need someone to clean up their mess and more.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader x Nick Fowler

Warnings: shy reader, flirty brothers, mafia business, money trouble, mentions of anxiety, pushy Bucky/Nick, overwhelmed reader

Their little maid masterlist

Catch up here: Their little maid (1)

A new job is a good thing. A new job means money and safety. A new job also means that your new bosses dictate your life.

You didn’t have a say when they sent people to get your belongings. Strangers touched all of your things, even your panties, and brought them to Nick and Bucky’s home.

Even though the room they offered you includes a walk-in wardrobe, access to a huge bathroom with a bathtub, and a reading nook, it doesn’t feel like home.

It feels like you’re staying at an overpriced, fancy hotel suite, and you don’t even dare touch anything. You look around the stylish room, sighing deeply. It’s not cozy or inviting. Every piece of furniture looks expensive and modern, but you already miss your old, worn-out armchair.

“You’re not happy.” Bucky leans in the door frame as you stand in the room, looking left and right. You didn’t unpack a thing in case you wanted to leave. Not that you have a choice. Without a job, you cannot pay rent. “Y/N, what is wrong with the room?”

“It’s not a home,” you hug yourself and try to calm down. “My armchair is not here, and I miss my bed and couch.”

“Doll, everything was old and worn out at your apartment. We got everything belonging to you.”

“I love my old armchair,” you sniff. “I know it’s not fancy, but it was mine. I got it from my favorite bookstore. The owner gave it to me after he had to close the store.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, “you have fond memories of the armchair.” He pushes off the door frame to step toward you. “How about this? We drive to your apartment tomorrow, and you get the armchair to make this room your new home.”

“I miss my couch too,” you say and point at the uncomfortable chaise lounge stand in the huge room they offered to you. “That’s not for sitting, only for show.”

Bucky laughs. “I didn’t buy it, doll. It was my mother. She helped us with the interior. I think she found it pretty.”

“It’s pretty but useless.” You wipe your wet eyes and try not to break down as memories of your home flood your mind. “I can’t sit on it.”

“Do we have a problem?” Nick casually walks into your room. “Buck, is something wrong? Does she have problems settling in?”

“She’s missing her armchair and couch. The chaise lounge is unusable according to our sweet new maid.” You shrink into yourself at Bucky’s words. The last thing you wanted was to anger your new bosses.

You wince and clutch your hands to your chest. “I’m sorry…” You choke out, afraid they will fire you now. Everything happened so fast, and you weren’t able to adapt to your new job and life.

“Buck, don’t scare her,” Nick huffs. “It’s alright, sweetness. We will get your couch and armchair and throw that monstrosity out of your room.” He flashes you a stunning smile, making you feel warm.

“Nick,” Bucky hisses. “I offered to get the armchair not months ago. We can have dinner after we get it.”

“How do you want to get it here?” You question. “It’s a big armchair, not a small one.”

Bucky grins. “Doll, we have our ways. If we say something shall happen, it happens. Do not worry. Get your jacket and shoes, and we can go for a ride.”

Going for a ride meant ending up stuck between Nick and Bucky in the backseat of a luxurious SUV. Clint, one of the people getting your belongings earlier today, is driving while his partner, Natasha—a stunning redhead—is chatting him up.

“So, doll, what does a librarian do all day?” Bucky asks. His thigh brushes yours, and you flinch because you can’t move away. Nick is glued to your other side; his warm body makes you all tingly. “Is the life of a librarian exciting?”

“Not really,” you murmur, afraid to speak any louder. “I ordered books, journals, and other resources. Most of the time, I was busy cataloging and keeping track of library materials. I helped patrons find books and to conduct research.”

Nick nods thoughtfully. His hand brushes your knees as he leans closer to hand Bucky your keys. “Sounds nice. I assume you liked your job.”

“Very much,” you gasp and start talking about your job and how you loved to help people. You keep out that it was nice to be around so many books, too. “Sadly, they had to close the library, and I didn’t have enough money to open a bookstore.”

Bucky and Nick share a look as you keep on talking. It’s the longest you've spoken to them since your job interview.

“Do you know the movie You’ve Got Mail?” You ask, and both men shake their heads. “I wanted a bookstore like Meg Ryan had in the movie. I know it’s a stupid romantic idea.” You drop your gaze and fall silent. “No one would’ve come to my store either way.”

The car stops in front of your apartment complex, and you suddenly feel anxious. These men live in a mansion, and now, they are about to look at your small apartment. “I can go in alone.”

“Doll, don’t be ridiculous,” Bucky laughs and opens the door. He slips out, offering his hand to you. You frown. He’s much too nice to a maid. “We got strong men who will carry your things.”

He jerks his head toward a group of men waiting in front of your apartment complex. You chew your lower lips and wring your hands. “Why are they here?”

“I told you,” Bucky smirks when you shy away from him the moment he tries to touch your cheek, “if we want something to be done, it’s considered done.”

“What my brother tries to tell you is that we will take a look at your home, and you can decide what you want to take with you. The guys will lift the heavy stuff,” Nick explains as you try to not panic.

Strangers will walk around your home, and you don’t feel comfortable having strangers in your home or near you. Reluctantly, you follow Nick and Bucky as they start to chat about their plans for tomorrow.

They act as if you aren’t even there when they start talking about their miserable love life and awful dates. You feel sorry for them and offer a tight smile.

“I bet Y/N wouldn’t leave me waiting at the restaurant or look at another man while we are having dinner,” Bucky suddenly grabs your hand to kiss it. “Right, doll?”

“Uh—no,” you squeak because Nick grabbed your other hand to mirror his brother. “That’s not nice.”

“She’s nice and so polite,” Nick whispers and grins wolfishly at his brother. “Right, brother.”

“Let’s get the armchair first.” Bucky narrows his eyes at his brother. “Patience is a virtue, Nick. I told you so many times before. Let’s not hurry things this time.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Nick replies as he looks you up and down. “We have all the time we need…”

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #nick fowler #mafia au #bucky barnes x reader #nick fowler x reader #bucky barnes x reader x nick fowler #shy reader #maid reader

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estapa-edwards · 7 months ago

Note

is there any way you could make an imagine about matt rempe and y/n going to her highschool reunion and she’s super nervous about it because she was bullied and an outcast and he’s all sweet and reassures her the whole time

BULLIED - M. REMPE

paring: Matt Rempe x reader

word count: 1.1k

requested? yes

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Y/N fiddled with the hem of her dress, her fingers trembling slightly. The high school reunion was something she had dreaded for months, ever since the invitation had arrived in the mail. She had been an outcast in high school, bullied for her unconventional interests and quiet demeanor. The thought of facing her former classmates again made her stomach churn with anxiety.

Matt, her boyfriend, stood beside her, his warm hand enveloping hers in a reassuring grip. "You okay, babe?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Y/N forced a weak smile. "I'm just... nervous, you know? What if they haven't changed? What if they still see me the same way they did back then?"

Matt leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss against her temple. "Hey, listen to me," he murmured, his voice soft but firm. "You are amazing, Y/N. You've grown and blossomed into this incredible person, and anyone who can't see that doesn't deserve a second of your time. You're going to walk into that reunion with your head held high, and I'll be right there beside you, every step of the way."

His words sent a surge of warmth through her, easing some of the tension that had knotted in her chest. Taking a deep breath, Y/N nodded. "Thank you, Matt. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He smiled, his eyes sparkling with affection. "You'll never have to find out. Now, shall we go?"

With Matt's hand still firmly clasped in hers, Y/N nodded again, steeling herself for what lay ahead. Together, they made their way to the venue, the chatter and laughter from inside growing louder with each step.

As they entered the brightly lit hall, Y/N felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. The decorations were a mix of old and new, with photographs from their high school days displayed on one wall, and a DJ spinning modern hits on the other side of the room. Groups of people clustered together, chatting and reminiscing, while others danced on the makeshift dance floor.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she scanned the crowd, searching for familiar faces. It didn't take long for her to spot them – the popular clique, still as loud and obnoxious as ever, their laughter cutting through the air like a knife.

Suddenly, a flashback hit her like a freight train, transporting her back to a time when she was a timid freshman, desperately trying to navigate the treacherous waters of high school social hierarchy.

/N walked through the crowded hallways, her books clutched tightly to her chest as she tried to make herself as small as possible. She had always been shy, preferring the company of her books and her own thoughts to the chaos of high school social life.

But today was different. Today, she had caught the attention of the popular clique, a group of girls who seemed to rule the school with an iron fist. They had singled her out during lunch, mocking her awkward attempts at conversation and tearing apart her appearance with their cutting remarks.

As Y/N rounded a corner, she heard their voices up ahead, and her heart sank like a stone in her chest. She knew she should turn around, find another way to class, but she was frozen in place, unable to tear herself away from the source of her torment.

"Look who it is," one of the girls sneered as Y/N came into view. "Little Miss Nobody, wandering the halls like she actually belongs here."

The others laughed, their cruel taunts echoing off the walls. Y/N felt her cheeks burn with humiliation, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She tried to push past them, to ignore their hurtful words and disappear into the crowd, but they blocked her path, their sneers turning into malicious grins.

"Where do you think you're going?" another girl asked, her voice dripping with contempt. "We're not done with you yet."

And then, before Y/N could react, they were upon her, their hands grabbing at her books, tearing them from her grasp and sending them scattering across the floor. Y/N's heart raced as she scrambled to retrieve them, her cheeks burning with shame as the laughter of her tormentors echoed in her ears.

As the flashback faded, Y/N blinked back tears, her hands trembling with the weight of memories long buried. She felt Matt's steady presence beside her, his arm wrapping around her shoulders in a comforting embrace.

"It's okay," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. "You're safe now, Y/N. They can't hurt you anymore."

Drawing strength from his words, Y/N squared her shoulders and forced herself to walk forward. As they approached the group, she could feel the weight of their stares, their whispers echoing in her ears.

But then Matt stepped closer, his presence a steady anchor by her side. "Hey, everyone," he greeted them with a charming smile. "I'm Matt, Y/N's boyfriend. It's great to finally meet you all."

The reaction was mixed – some of them greeted him warmly, while others eyed him with thinly veiled suspicion. But Matt remained unfazed, his easygoing demeanor putting Y/N at ease.

Throughout the evening, he never left her side, his unwavering support giving her the courage to mingle and reconnect with old friends. And whenever she felt overwhelmed, he was there to offer a comforting word or a reassuring touch, grounding her in the present moment.

As the night wore on, Y/N found herself relaxing more and more, the weight of her high school years slowly lifting from her shoulders. She laughed and danced with newfound confidence, no longer haunted by the ghosts of her past.

And when it was time to leave, Matt wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as they made their way to the exit. The cool night air was a welcome relief after the warmth and bustle of the reunion, and Y/N couldn't help but lean into Matt's embrace, grateful for his unwavering support.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the sounds of the city. "For everything."

Matt pressed a kiss to her forehead, his love for her shining in his eyes. "Anytime, babe. Anytime."

And as they walked off into the night, hand in hand, Y/N knew that with Matt by her side, she could face anything – even her high school reunion.

#hockey #nhl x reader #matt rempe fic #matt rempe imagine #matt rempe fluff #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe

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