#I understand you sent this from a place of concern

[bumblingbabooshka]

A Star Trek Novel called “Pocket Full of Lies” really has NO business going so hard.

[queerautism]

It feels kinda wild I've seen no one mention the huge controversy NaNoWriMo was in about 7 months ago (Link to a reddit write up, there's also a this google doc on it) in this whole recent AI discourse. The main concerns people had were related to the 'young writers' forum, a moderator being an alledged predator, and general moderation practices being horrible and not taking things like potential grooming seriously.

About 5 months ago, after all of that went down, MLs or 'Municipal Liaisons', their local volunteers organisers for different regions of the world, were offered a horrible new agreement that basically tried to shut them up about the issues they'd been speaking up about. Some of these issues included racism and ableism that the organisation offered zero support with.

When there was pushback and MLs kept sharing what was going on, NaNoWriMo removed ALL OF THEM as MLs and sent in a new, even more strict agreement that they would have to sign to be allowed back in their volunteer position.

This agreement included ways of trying to restrict their speech even further, from not being able to share 'official communications' to basically not being allowed to be in discord servers to talk to other MLs in places not controlled by NaNoWriMo. You also had to give lots of personal information and submit to a criminal background check, despite still explicitly leaving their local regions without support and making it very clear everyone was attending the OFFICIAL in person events 'at their own risk'.

Many MLs refused to sign and return. Many others didn't even know this was happening, because they did not get any of the emails sent for some reason. NaNoWriMo basically ignored all their concerns and pushed forward with this.

Many local regions don't exist anymore. I don't know who they have organising the rest of them, but it's likely spineless people that just fell in line, people who just care about the power, or new people who don't understand what's going on with this organisation yet. Either way, this year is absolutely going to be a mess.

Many of the great former MLs just went on to organise their writing communities outside of the official organisation. NaNoWriMo does not own the concept of writing a novel in a month.

R/nanowrimo is an independent subreddit that has been very critical of the organisation since this all happened, and people openly recommend alternatives for word tracking, community, etc there, so I highly recommend checking it out.

I've seen Trackbear recommended a lot for an alternative to the word tracking / challenge, and will probably be using it myself this November.

Anyway, just wanted to share because a lot of people haven't heard about this, and I think it makes it extremely clear that the arguments about "classism and ableism" @nanowrimo is using right now in defense of AI are not vaguely misguided, but just clear bullshit. They've never given a single shit about any of that stuff.

[pellucid-constellations]

A small drabble dedicated to returning home from Under the Mountain and what that would look like for Azriel.

The second you cracked an eye open, Azriel tugged you closer to his chest in an almost eerie display of sixth sense. You could tell he was still asleep by the even rate of his breath as it puffed over your shoulder, and still, he could tell the moment you woke up. 

It had been that way since you returned home from Under the Mountain. 

Subtle tells made you privy to the desperation he had felt during the decades you’d been gone. He never vocalized it, always too concerned with the horrors you’d been subjected to under Amarantha’s reign, but you could tell. 

You could tell by the way he looked at you, the soft gleam in his eyes so achingly adoring it constantly sent a pang through your chest. You could tell in how he touched you, each pass of his hands soft but determined, as if he were afraid a meaningless touch would send you away again. The way he cared for you spoke volumes—how he pressed you close when you cried over imagined pasts and fended off loud sounds even though they didn’t mean what they used to Under the Mountain. 

The first week after you’d returned you swore he was utterly devoted to you simply being able to eat an entire plate of food and keep it down. You were better at that now, more used to the rich spices back home, but you could still feel the way he intently watched as you ate. 

You weren’t sure when that vigilance would fade—when he would finally understand that you were safe and by his side once more. 

You blinked against the sunlight filtering through bedroom curtains and felt Azriel’s hands curl against your ribs. His wing twitched as it rested over you, and you subtly remembered that he never used to do that. He never slept with you so close and tight and with so much of him covering so much of you. 

After lying in his hold for several minutes, your shoulders shifted with restlessness. 

Azriel woke immediately, his heart pattering harshly against your back as he breathed in suddenly. He jolted his head up before consciousness reached him, a panic spurring him to look around the room with haste. 

This was something else you’d have to overcome together. 

“Az,” you called from beneath him. “I’m right here.”

Azriel snapped his gaze down to look upon you, confusion marring his features before unrelenting relief smoothed the lines on his face. He huffed out a breath that was meant to be a laugh before burying his face in the juncture of your neck, his heart calming as he felt you. 

“‘M sorry,” he mumbled against your skin. “I’ll get over that.” 

You smiled softly. He couldn’t see it. “It’s okay. I don’t mind reminding you.” 

Azriel slowly unraveled himself from you and turned you to rest on your back. His eyes flitted over your face in admiration, but you could see the way they lingered down the rest of your body as well—examining, ensuring, solidifying your presence. 

You brushed your fingers across his cheek and his lashes fluttered in response. 

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked. 

Did you have any dreams of her? Of that place? Of the times I wasn’t able to protect you? 

You knew those were the questions disguised beneath the veil of casual pillow talk. 

“I slept very well,” you hummed. “As did you, it seems. You were snoring in my ear.” 

“I do not snore, my love. I cannot snore, it would be an occupational hazard.” 

You rolled your eyes. “You never let me have anything.” 

Joy shone brightest in Azriel’s eyes, but the melancholy that always seemed to linger was difficult to escape. Because you knew him so well. Because you knew he was blaming himself for so much of this. 

“I would give you everything,” he stressed, shaking his head playfully. “But I will not have you spreading lies about me. I do not snore and never have.” 

You bit back a smile and pulled him down by the back of his neck, his nose pressed to yours as you replied, “Says you.” 

He laughed and then he kissed you, his hands never leaving your body, his devotion never dissipating as it streamed down the bond. 

[on-the-clear-blue]

Dead Man's Diner pt 2

Danny had to admit, Lunch Lady was an excellent teacher.

Sure they were blitzing though a cook book thst was more tape and hope the paper, but Danny was for once actually understanding and enjoying being taught.

Cracking an egg into a bowl, Danny held it close while whisking quickly, not fully incorporating the flour in his pancake batter before dumping a good sized dollop on the flat top, smiling from the brief sizzle that he heard.

There was a sudden cacophony sounds from the front of house (which was the dining area? He never knew that before) putting the flat top on low, Danny looked over to where Lunch Lady was floating only to find nothing.

Blinking a bit, Danny wiped his hands off OK his apron as he poked his head out, frowning at the diner car, "What was that..." his words were cut off by one of the blinds slats bending as if pried open, and as he squinted, Danny saw two figures watching from a distance ontop another rail car.

Vigilantes

Danny felt his heart flutter with excitement, while not as cool as maybe Martian Manhunter or StarFire (since y'know...fucking aliens, Space) the Gotham caped community were interesting, if only since Batman and his Flock were Sam's low key obsession, she had even gone out as Robin for multiple Halloweens, and don't even get him started on the fan theories about them all.

Smirking he tapped the bar, allowing thr blinds to snap closed, "Sam is so going to flip that I saw the Birds before her." Letting out a little giggled, Danny quickly swore as he smelt a bit of burning and rushed to flip his pancakes.

---

Tim was, in Dicks opinion, the most concerning member of the family, sure most days he gives of "miserable wet cat" energy but even then Dick had seen his little brother easily take down guys that even Bruce had trouble with.

That wasnt even touching on his um...mental quirks

The less he speaks of the time period between Bruce's and Kons deaths till their eventual return, the better.

Putting down the binoculars, Dick stole a glance over at Red Robin, who was frowning deeply at his wrist computer, scooting a little closer Dick leaned over to see what was happening, "Whatcha do~oing?"

So entranced by what he was reading Tim jumped a little, an elbow flying out to where Dicks face had been a second ago as he turned and glared.

"Don't...! Do that Wing! Ugh..." shaking his head as he let out a huff Tim took his eyes off the small monitor and looked up at the diner car, pointing at it as he spoke scornfuly.

"That place does not exist."

"Like, legally? I am sure Batburger doesn't either-"

"No." Tim said, cutting the older vigilante off, "It doesn't exist physically."

"Timmy..." Dick said as he ran through the protocols for when RedRobin got a little too many insane things in his head.

"Get that look off your face Wing, it really doesn't exist, like..." letting out a sigh, the teen tried to put his words right "Don't look straight at it but a bit to the side so it's to the side of your eye." Pointing to a middle distance a bit away from the diner cart, Dick sent a small frown at his brother but did as he was asked.

"Holy leaping lizards..." Tim, somehow, was right, since when Dick just looked about a few feet away from the diner, it started to waver turning...transparent? And a little blue? But when he looked at it closer it was just a normal, abet run down looking diner.

"Exactly, no need to bench me till Agent A stuffs me full of anti-psychotics!"

"That was one time Tim, and you were having a mental break down."

"I am not lying when I say we killed Santa Claus Dick!"

"Sure Tim...sure"

---

Danny drummed his fingers on the breakfast bar, nursing a cup of coffee as he waited for something to happen.

He knew thst he was being watched, he had a vague idea who was doing the watching, but was starting to get a bit bored waiting for them to get closer.

Pausing mid sip, a grin spread across Danny's lips, "Hey cart? Can you do something that might draw those guys over here? Let's get some customers!"

Some how, Danny's grin only grew at the rumble of the cart, and he xould hav sworn he heard a sound that was a mix between a train horn and a chuckle.

---

Tim shot his brother a stinging glare, swatting at his arm as he blushed, he did every much indeed accidentally killed Santa Claus and took an impromptu trip to Apokolips to give DarkSeid coal.

His next rebuttal to Nightwing was cut off as the diner cart shuddered as if it was in an earthquake before it stilled, and the banner that was across it suddenly gained a new line.

[JUST NOW! VIGILANTES AND HEROS GET ONE FREE SIDE OF FRIES! COME ON IN BEFORE THE OFFER ENDS!]

Tim was silent for a moment, watching the cart to see if there was any more changes before turning to Dick, who had lost the joyful energy that he always seemed to have.

"RR, plans changed, we are going to investigate inside."

Tim gave a sharp nod, his bo staff elongating as he grappled down to the train tracks below, his boots crunching gravel underfoot as he slipped from shadow to shadow, getting closer to Big C's diner.

---

Danny was in the back, flipping through his cook book as he heard a bell ring, jolting up, Danny could see through the service window and see who came in.

He had never met a real hero before, not like the two that had just came in, feeling nervous, Danny fumbled with a small notebook as he came out from the kitchen, grinning at the two Birds.

"Heya! Thanks for coming to Big C's! Names Danny and I am kinda the only one in today, what can I get you both?"

His eyes flickered between the two vigilantes, noticing new things each time he looked at them, like how Red Robin's cape had buttons instead of being sown on, or how Nightwings suit wasn't slick but actually textured.

---

Dick looked at everything he could as he stood in the diners door, it looked like a typical 50s styled mom and pop kinda place, an old radio buzzed with songs of a bygone era while the seats were cracked pink leather vinyl.

He could hear someone moving in the back, resting a hand on his eskrima sticks, Dick stalked further in, it felt real enough...

He could feel Red Robin knock into his back as the person from the back came into view, it was a teen, and holy hell did he look like Bruce Wayne adoption bait, raven hair, blue eyes and a cheesy looking grin.

He couldn't be older than Damian, who had turned 16 a few months ago, the teen was just so...tiny.

Danny, that's the name given to them, and Dick can see it, he looked like a Danny.

Pausing to look to Tim, Dick smiled back at the teen, "Well...can we see a menu?"

[daistea]

Since you take requests, would I be able to ask for something with Mithrun and Kabru with like a reader that's kind of dense with social cues/hints (especially if they're romantic)?

(I had people confess their love to me, and I still didn't get it till they put it in very clear terms)

(it's probably the 'tism, but I digress. )

I think it's potentially an absolutely hellerious dynamic since Kabru always plays 5D chess with every social interaction. As for Mithrun, I think it's funny to think how the other canaries would just be repeatedly hitting their head on the wall because their captain won't say it straight and they just don't g e t i t.

Ps: I absolutely love how in-depth all of your understanding of characters and their personalities are, and I just hxfhxdvgudts.

This blog just brings me so much joy

Yaaa!!

“Iᴛ’s ᴀ Dᴀᴛᴇ” Kᴀʙʀᴜ x Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, Mɪᴛʜʀᴜɴ x Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

gn reader

5000 words ;P

Warning: reader is very oblivious. Like incomprehensibly oblivious (for the lolz)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

♡ Kabru ♡

- Kabru has had little flings here and there throughout his life. He treated every partner with respect, of course, but Kabru wasn’t particularly looking for love. He doesn’t dislike the idea of love, it just hasn’t happened yet.

- So, when Kabru starts to genuinely fall in love with someone, it’s a new feeling. He’s observant enough to recognize what it is.

- Unfortunately, the person he’s falling in love with is you.

“He’s been unusually quiet lately,” Holm remarked. Who he was remarking that to remained to be seen. Mickbell didn’t care much. Kuro had other things to worry about. And Rin had already made the same observation three times earlier that day.

The first floor of the dungeon was always crowded, and Kabru’s ears were usually open for anything that could be of use. The leather armor merchant to his left had recently raised his prices. The cobbler to the right was in an argument with an older lady over the shape of a patch he’d made on her favorite boots. And Holm was concerned about Kabru’s recent lack of observations; as concerned as Holm could be.

“Is that really such a shock?” Kabru sent Holm a smile over his shoulder. “I’m not exactly a chatterbox.”

But he was aware of himself enough to know that his behavior lately had been odd. He was usually so good at hiding it, too, but the comfort of his friends seemed to lower his walls. Without realizing it, Kabru had spent their latest dungeon expedition sighing to himself, staring at walls, and missing the details of important things. On the third floor, they’d encountered thieves. His party always relied on him to clock the intentions of approaching adventurers— thieves tended to be overly familiar, friendly, and a bit too eager— but Kabru’s mind was elsewhere. The thieves attacked, and it had genuinely taken him by surprise. The fight wasn’t hard, but Kabru’s lack of preparation set off alarms in Rin and Holm’s heads.

“You’re not,” Rin agreed. Her brow furrowed and she got that cute little line on her forehead again. “However, you’ve really been out of it.”

“Have you been thinking about that person again?” Holm asked.

That person. That person? Kabru knew a lot of persons. The whole first level was filled to the brim with persons, half of them being his acquaintances. Kabru had zero desire to admit that he knew precisely who Holm was referring to, though, and decided to keep his gaze straight ahead as he weaved through the crowd.

When he didn’t respond, Mickbell laughed, “Yeah, he’s thinking of them alright.”

“Heat?” Kuro asked.

Mickbell scoffed from his place on Kuro’s shoulders, “Tall-men don’t go into heat! At least I don’t think so. But they catch feelings, like a cold. Kabru’s caught a cold.”

“Not sneezing,” Kuro mumbled.

“A feelings cold, I mean! The worst kind.”

That was one way to put it. Kabru couldn’t help but sigh as he led the party towards a quieter spot in the corner. Once they were out of the sea of people, he leaned against the stone wall and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t have feelings, I’m simply curious,” he said.

Curious. Right. Mickbell sent him a scrunched up, narrow-eyed look that was reminiscent of constipation. Yet, Rin interjected before the half-foot could say something heinous. “What’re you curious about, particularly?” She asked.

“Good question,” Kabru folded his arms over his chest and tilted his head in thought.

What was he curious about? You held so many secrets. You had this look in your eyes that drew him, a look that reminded him of a room in his mother’s house. She always told him to not go inside. Her rules only made him want to turn the knob even more. And when he finally did disobey her and go inside, all he saw were boxes full of ceramic unicorn miniatures. Still, the rush of satisfaction he’d felt at finally knowing what was in there couldn’t be matched. That’s what he wanted to do to you, open your door and take a peek.

Or, perhaps a ‘peek’ was an understatement. He wanted to meticulously inspect every inch of your mind with a microscope, to know the atoms unseen by the human eye, to be intimately acquainted with every molecule you possessed.

“He’s zoned out again,” Holm muttered, ripping Kabru out of his thoughts.

He looked up, eyes widening at the observation. Holm was right, he was zoned out again, staring at the dirt on the floor and contemplating you.

He forced a smile, “Don’t worry about me, really. I’m just preoccupied. It’s that person, I simply want to know their intentions.”

“Intentions for what?” Rin asked.

For everything. There was no simple answer.

“Oh hey,” Mickbell glanced over his shoulder. His voice was flat as he scanned the room, “There they are.”

Kabru followed Mickbell’s gaze, a straight line that led directly to you— all lines seemed to lead directly to you lately. His heart clenched in a way that was both unpleasant and addictive. Without realizing it, he pushed away from the wall and began striding toward where you stood.

“Wait,” Rin grabbed his arm as he passed. Kabru blinked, looking down at her and waiting for her to speak. She met his eyes and frowned, “I think you’re going to be disappointed. They’re not as mysterious as you think they are.”

Nonsense. You were incredibly mysterious. Kabru could tell you had secrets, layers. He dreamed of pulling them back one by one.

“They couldn’t disappoint me,” he sent Rin a smile that he hoped was reassuring— he knew it was, he’d practiced it in the mirror and on other people all the time.

“I think they will,” she argued.

“They won’t,” his smile faltered just the slightest. Rin didn’t usually get involved in Kabru’s… hobby. Did she know something he didn’t? He decided to not ask outright, accepting the challenge of figuring out the meaning behind her concern on his own.

Rin let go of his arm and Kabru was free to go. His mind switched elsewhere, onto you, and before he knew it he was already slipping through the crowd of bodies to reach you.

You were in front of the vegetable seller’s stand, inspecting a lumpy potato. Kabru knew the vegetable seller was cheating on his wife. Usually, he’d try to get more out of the man, digging deeper simply for the sake of knowing. Yet, you stood there, beautiful and mind-consuming. What did Rin mean by ‘I think you’re going to be disappointed’? Kabru was rarely disappointed with secrets.

“Hey,” he raised a hand as he neared. You looked up from the potato and returned his smile. There was that look in your eyes again, that closed door he desperately needed the key to.

He loved crowds. He loved the hundreds of voices. He loved listening to each one and assigning them meaning, picking apart their words, filing them away into neat little categories. Yet, the crowd might as well have disappeared. All he saw was you. All he wanted was you and your words and your thoughts and your fears and your goals and your likes and your dislikes and your intentions and your—

“Oh hey,” your voice cut through the wants like the slash of a sword, “Kapru.”

Kapru.

His brows furrowed and he plastered on a polite smile— also practiced in the mirror. “It’s Kabru.”

“Right, sorry,” you shrugged.

Were you playing with him? Were you sending your pawn out, a piece that you expected him to take for the sake of a larger, more powerful move? Was it bait?

“How are you?” He forced himself to ask, though he could hear the weakness in his voice. He desperately hoped you wouldn’t notice.

You only tilted your head in thought, “I’m fine. Just buying potatoes.”

“It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other,” Kabru said. It was a lie, you saw him last week. “My party and I are about to go back to the surface to restock. We could grab a drink if you wanted.”

“Why?” You asked.

Why? Why? Kabru couldn’t say why. He wouldn’t say why. ‘I want to take detailed notes on every word you say, every gesture, every breath’ wouldn’t be helpful to his cause in the least.

“Because we’re friends,” he slowly explained. Again, there was that hint of weakness lacing every syllable. He wanted to tear his voice box apart and reconstruct it in a way that wouldn’t falter every time he saw you.

But you didn’t seem to notice. “Alright,” you sent him a smile that made his heart clench.

Alright. Kabru’s smile relaxed, “Alright,” he echoed. “It’s a date.”

‘It’s a date’ was a common saying, of course. But it still held implications, it still held desires, it still signified something more— At least to him it did.

You remained unphased by it, though. Usually, when Kabru said that, there would be a laugh or blush or the widening of eyes. You gave him nothing of the sort. No flirtatious looks, no intention-laced smile, no flicker of recognition.

“See you then,” was all you said.

Rin was wrong. You couldn’t disappoint him. Opening your doors and peeking inside your mind would be so satisfying.

- You go on several dates with Kabru without realizing they’re dates.

- After one date when you make friends with the next table over and invite them to join your meal, introducing Kabru as ‘my friend’ and not ‘the man who is courting me’ or ‘my boyfriend’, he begins to wonder…

- Do you not realize that these are dates?

Kabru knew he had the tendency to stare, but he usually kept that urge locked away for the sake of masking. Always masking. Always aware of his surroundings and the people and the words and the looks.

He kept his staring urge hidden at first. Yet as time passed, as you went on more dates, he couldn’t help himself. He had to stare. He had to drink in every detail of your face, coveting it all as a desert wanderer would covet water.

And you didn’t seem to mind. You would give him this look sometimes, a look he couldn’t quite decipher. It was a mixture between affection and confusion and bashfulness. It was his favorite expression of yours and never failed to put butterflies in his stomach.

Kabru knew he was falling in love. He wasn’t opposed to the idea, but he’d never been truly in love before. At night when he forced himself into bed, he stared at the ceiling and mused on the future you had together. Neither of you had said anything to make the relationship official, but was that even needed? It was obvious that you were together— to him, at least.

Kabru held your hand as he led you through the crowded streets. Once you caught up to his side, he placed his palm on the small of your back. He wasn’t much for PDA, but it was a necessity when traversing the island together. He didn’t want to lose you in the crowd.

Once you were in a more quiet spot, he sent you a smile, “I have to ask, I’m too curious; What’s your favorite date that we’ve had together?”

You thought for a moment, “Hm… I would have to say last week. It was a Thursday. I like Thursdays anyway. I think it was the 7th? Yeah. June 7th, Thursday. That’s a good date, it’s a bit cool outside and all the flowers are blooming. But if I had to say which one was my favorite, I think it would be April 18th. I’m not sure that we spent that date together, though.”

…Okay.

Like the sunset rising over the mountains, it began to dawn on him.

Were you stupid?

No, you weren’t stupid. He had seen you in the dungeon before, how you fought and strategized and reacted. You couldn’t be stupid.

Then what? Were you playing hard to get? Were you teasing him? Was this a move on the board, your Knight piece pressing forward to continue the assault? Kabru needed to know.

He kept his hand on your back but his gaze straight ahead. “That’s nice,” he said. It wasn’t nice, actually. “What about when we hold hands? Do you enjoy that?”

You shrugged, “It helps us keep track of each other as we go through a crowd.”

“But I hold your hand even when we’re not around other people.”

The face you made betrayed your true thoughts. “Yeah, it seems like your hands are cold a lot. You really should start keeping gloves with you.”

“...Do you think I’m holding your hand because my fingers are cold?”

Another flash of confusion, another furrow of your brows. “Why else would you hold my hand?”

The sun rose completely over the mountains and the daytime, clear and bright, engulfed his world.

You had no clue.

- This stresses Kabru out immensely.

- He starts taking notes. He has a special little book just for you. A lot of the pages are filled with scribbles and question marks.

- He makes a plan on what to do. He’s going to up the ante, he’s going to make his feelings so clear that you can’t ignore them or be oblivious even if you tried.

- He starts getting more touchy. He kisses your forehead often. He kisses your knuckles. He’s around you all the time, every chance he gets. He tells you you’re beautiful. He says that he wants you to meet his mother. He talks about your future together.

- You say, “Oh, your mom? Cool. You think we’ll get along? I’m always up for making new friends.”

- “You want a future with me? Well, I’m free next Wednesday.”

“I like you,” Kabru was breathless and wide-eyed. His hair was a mess from how often he’d run his fingers through it. He was disheveled and hadn’t slept the entire night.

You glanced up from the book you were reading, “Oh? Cool, thanks.”

He sent you a look. “No, I mean I love you.”

“Yeah,” you flipped a page in the book, “love you too.”

“You do?” Hope bloomed and unfurled like a spring flower. Kabru felt his cheeks grow warm, a fire igniting within him.

“Yeah,” you said lightly, “I love all my friends, of course.”

That spring flower suddenly wilted. The fire was doused by a cold bucket of water in the form of your words. Kabru wanted to scream and bang his head against the wall.

“You don’t get it,” he hissed through clenched teeth, fingers tensing as he leaned forward, desperate. “I’m in love with you. This is really hard for me to say, but I think you need to hear it like this. I love you. I love you. I love you…” Somehow, his cheeks went even hotter. His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed his embarrassment, “I-I… Sorry. I just need you like I need oxygen. I…”

You snorted, “You don’t need me to breathe, I’m a person not an organ. You’re breathing right now just fine.”

He was not breathing just fine, but that was beside the point.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Kabru said. He could hear how strained his voice sounded.

You watched as he walked away, rounding a corner and disappearing from sight. Then he screamed. It sounded like he also kicked something, a crate or box maybe.

How odd.

- When it finally gets through your head, he’s actually a bit satisfied by your embarrassment at it all. Yes, please do acknowledge your obliviousness. Please do apologize for treating his love confession so casually. When you do so, he feels as if he could melt from the relief.

- He still wants to bang his head on the wall, though.

- And he’s spent a lot of nights screaming into his pillow.

- Kabru continues to play 5d chess with you, just simply out of habit, but you’re playing Hungry Hungry Hippos the entire time. He still finds himself trying to pick apart your actions and responses, but he’s learned how to take things at face value when it comes to you. It’s a difficult adjustment, but one he’s willing to make.

- He starts to learn, take more notes, observe your behavior. For dates, he lays it out carefully. You two are going to do this specific thing. Why? Because he would like to see you happy, and hold your hand, and kiss you. Why? Because he loves you. Now you get it.

- You’re fascinating actually. Genuinely, he starts to adore how your brain works. He wants to pick it apart and hold the pieces up to a magnifying glass.

♡ Mithrun ♡

- He does not care.

- Be as oblivious as you want, that’s not going to stop Mithrun.

- The Canaries, however, are going insane.

“How’s it going with them?” Pattadol asked. Her hands were folded in front of her in that polite way, the way that told Mithrun that his second in command had something on her mind. Pattadol thought she was subtle. She was not.

And he knew precisely who she was referring to. Might as well give her an answer that’ll satisfy her curiosity, lest she keep asking questions.

“Fine,” he answered, “just fine.”

Yet, Pattadol’s brow furrowed. Not a good sign.

“Just fine?” She asked. Her voice went up a pitch. “It’s just fine? Really?”

“Really.”

She unlaced her fingers and spread out her hands as if gesturing to something, but all that surrounded them was Mithrun’s under-decorated living quarters. There was really nothing to gesture at besides the wooden cabinets and the bed. Mithrun waited, aware that she was picking through her piles of thoughts— probably thoughts mixed with screams of frustration— to find the right words.

Finally, Pattadol forced a shaken smile, “It’s clear to anyone that knows you that you’re in love with them, Captain.”

That was what she decided to say? It was a bit blunt for Pattadol’s usual style. Mithrun only shrugged, “Yeah, you’re right. It’s pretty obvious.”

“So why haven’t they noticed yet?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I want you to be happy for once!” Pattadol snapped, but she then took a deep breath, “Sorry, Captain, I didn’t mean to sound that way. This is hard for me, talking so openly about these things… But it’s so frustrating to watch.”

Mithrun could understand that. While he personally wasn’t frustrated by the circumstances, he knew that the Canaries couldn’t stand watching his interactions with you. It wasn’t a big deal in the long run, in his opinion. They’d get over it.

“Thank you,” he answered.

“Do you have any ideas on how we can do that?”

“Do what?”

Pattadol’s eye twitched ever so slightly. Her fingers tensed like claws, and Mithrun felt the corner of his lips turn up in a barely-there smirk. But genuinely, he wasn’t sure what she referred to. Did she mean the part about him being happy, or the part about you being oblivious? She should’ve been more clear.

“About…” she hesitated. Obviously she wasn’t sure what she meant either. She then nodded as if deciding, “About everything. About the obliviousness, your happiness, etcetera.”

He didn’t know what the etcetera referred to, but didn’t care to ask. “You don’t have to do anything,” Mithrun assured her as he leaned back in the chair and folded his arms. The wood creaked slightly from the movement. Everything on this boat creaked, as was the nature of boats, he guessed.

“I would like to do something,” Pattadol nodded, determined. “We all would.”

A shrug, “Alright. Then do something.”

- Pattadol, over-achiever and top student and certified Girl Who Cares Too Much, takes that as a challenge.

- Cithis only joins because she thinks it’ll be funny.

- Fleki also only joins because she thinks it’ll be funny.

- And Lycion also also joins because he thinks it’ll be funny (though he does care on some level. Not really about you, but about Mithrun. And it’s painful to watch.)

- Otta is forced to join.

- The attempts are weak at first, like dipping a toe into the water to see how cold it is. Mithrun only has so much patience for interference with his life, so they have to be smart and tread carefully.

- Pattadol gives Mithrun a hint. “There’s some pretty flowers growing beside the road over there. You should give one to them!”

- “What would they need a flower for?”

- Mithrun asks that on purpose. He knows precisely what he’s doing. Yes, people generally like receiving flowers, he knows that. But he also believes that flowers are useless gifts.

- “Then what present do you suggest?” Pattadol asks.

- Mithrun has an idea. He gets you soap. Everybody uses soap (hopefully) It’s a useful gift, and if he gives you the same kind he uses then he’ll get some weird sick flicker of pleasure from having his scent on you. (He wisely chooses to not say that part aloud.)

You held the little bar of soap in your hands as if it were an injured baby bird you found on the ground. Yet your feelings towards it were far from protective or empathetic. This soap said something. It had a mouth and it used it to scream.

You met Mithrun’s flat gaze, “Soap…”

He nodded, “Yeah. Soap. It’s a gift for you.”

For you?

Mithrun continued, “It’s the same kind I use. Smells the same.”

It felt as if you’d swallowed a handful of pebbles and they all had gotten stuck in your throat. “Do you… think I’m stinky?”

You cursed yourself for even asking that. What a useless question. Obviously, he thought you stank! He gave you soap! He was trying to tell you something, being subtle and polite for once! Usually Mithrun would just say it bluntly, but he’d been working on his desires lately. Perhaps he’d also decided to embrace societal expectations? You weren’t sure. But soap. Soap!

You didn’t notice how Mithrun tensed. You didn’t see him quickly blink several times and tilt his head. You didn’t see the slight widening of his good eye. “No, I—“

“I’ll go use this right now,” you interrupted, “I’ll go wash away my stench so you can finally stand to be near me.”

Despite the horror, you were a bit proud of yourself. You’d taken a hint, maybe you were getting less oblivious.

- In your defense, a bar of soap is a weird gift.

- Alright. Mithrun admits it, he needs help. He’s not so prideful anymore that he won’t admit that he doesn’t know what to do.

- Pattadol is really triumphant about that but does her best not to show it.

- Plan B: make it so obvious that you have no choice but to realize his feelings.

“This has to be the most physically uncomfortable I’ve felt in a very long time,” Mithrun said as he tugged at the ends of the fancy, over-decorated blouse the Canaries had put him in. “I honestly prefer Cithis’s frilly dresses.”

Which was saying something. Mithrun had a preference? That was a good sign.

“It makes you look handsome,” Pattadol said.

“The only thing it makes me is itchy,” he corrected.

The Canaries had somehow found a blouse— not a shirt or tunic, a blouse— that made Mithrun feel something other than indifference. He usually didn’t care about what he wore, as long as it was comfortable, but the clothes they’d stuffed him into were offensive to human-kind, like vegan bacon.

It had a big frill on the front and puffy sleeves. It was somehow both too flowy and too tight at the same time. The trousers weren’t much better, digging into his legs. And the shoes…

Mithrun didn’t want to talk about the shoes.

It was clear to him that Fleki and Cithis had only contributed to the outfit because they thought it would be amusing. Good for them, he supposed. Pattadol seemed to genuinely like it, Otta looked horrified, and Lycion was in some in between state where he wanted to show pity but couldn’t quite stifle his giggles.

“Remind me again what the point of this is?” Mithrun asked with a sigh.

“We got them to agree to a date!” Pattadol said, grinning, “I said outright ‘it’s a date’ so there would be no confusion. I made it clear that the date was with you. Now, if you show up looking like a million gold with a bouquet of flowers, they’ll get the hint.”

Mithrun did not want to do that.

Mithrun rarely wanted to do anything, but this just felt wrong. In his opinion, the relationship between you and him would develop naturally in a way that fit both of your personalities. He didn’t mind waiting for you to realize his intentions, he had time. As long as you didn’t fall in love with someone else, and didn’t stop him from staring at you or touching you, then he wasn’t in a rush.

But since the Canaries insisted, seeming to think that this was the right course of action, he would go along with it. Maybe it would be an utter disaster and Pattadol would realize that she knew very little about relationships— especially a relationship involving Mithrun. He was aware enough of himself to know that it wouldn’t be conventional.

With his hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and the ridiculous outfit on, Mithrun entered the restaurant Pattadol had chosen. He found you immediately. You sat in a chair with your elbow on the table and your ankles crossed, waiting.

Mithrun held a bouquet of pink roses as he approached. You lit up when you saw him, but your brows then furrowed.

“Where’s Pattadol?” You asked.

His stride faltered, “She isn’t coming.”

“Oh,” you shrugged, “well since she set this up I assumed she’d be here.”

Why would she be here? It was a date Pattadol had set up for you and Mithrun specifically.

You probably didn’t know it was a date, he realized. Pattadol thought she’d been clear by saying ‘it’s a date’ but failed to realize that that was just a common phrase among people and meant nothing to no one.

Calm, he slid into the seat across from you and watched as you raised a brow, “What’re you wearing?” You asked.

“My team picked it out for me.”

“You look like you’re part of an opera or a ballet, like you’re about to stand beneath a balcony and start spouting poetry to your lover.”

That was a good description, actually. Those were the words Mithrun had been looking for earlier when he saw himself in the mirror.

He nodded, “Yep.” Then, wordlessly, he held out the bouquet to you.

Your eyes widened, “For me?”

“I’m handing them to you, aren’t I?”

Gingerly, you took the flowers and held the stem of the wrapped bouquet with both hands as you inspected each petal.

A flicker of surprising satisfaction ran through his chest. You liked the flowers. It made sense, most people liked flowers, even if he didn’t see why.

You dipped your head down toward them presumably to smell them, but your lips then parted and you dug your teeth into the nearest rose.

Mithrun froze.

You chewed on the rose, your nose wrinkling in disgust. You gave the flower a good shot, a proper taste, but it didn’t take long until you grabbed a napkin and spit up the pink slobbery mess into it.

“Sorry,” you sent him an apologetic smile and tried to hand the bouquet back to him, “they don’t taste that good, and I don’t think I could season or cook them in a way that would help.”

Mithrun knew he was staring. He knew he was making a face, slightly tilting his head down, intensity in his eye. The kind of face someone made when they were internally screaming.

He was not internally screaming, but he was thinking— about you, how your brain worked. And how it was so damn charming for some reason and all he wanted to do was kiss you until he was all you could think about.

He wanted something. The feeling was sweet, a shot of adrenaline, one of Fleki’s drugs. Addictive. Like the slow drip of honey. He could survive off that want for ages.

Wordlessly, Mithrun threw the bouquet over his shoulder to get rid of it. Judging by the gasp that followed, it probably hit someone in the head.

Loving you was as natural to him as breathing.

- Mithrun decides to not let the Canaries interfere any longer. He was wrong earlier in thinking he needed their help. He doesn’t.

- Also, watching them go insane over your obliviousness and his lack of communication provides a good bit of entertainment.

- When he finally decides to give into that all-consuming, new, exciting desire and kiss you, your response is, “But I wasn’t casting a spell, no reason to try and stop me.”

- God, he adores you.

- He takes kisses whenever he wants them, with no care about what you think his intention is.

- After a certain kiss that involves tongue and teeth and fingers digging into your waist, you start to openly wonder… Are you in a relationship with Mithrun?

“Yes,” Mithrun didn’t even glance up at you, remaining unphased by your rather serious question, “We’re in a relationship.”

He continued to jot down notes about a monster he saw, as if he’d just casually answered a question about the weather. ‘Is it going to rain today?’ ‘Yeah looks like it.’

You gulped, “How long?”

“A year now,” he kept writing. Truthfully, he’d been expecting this. A flash of disappointment crossed his mind; there goes one of his hobbies, watching the Canaries have a crisis over his love life.

You buried your face in your hands. Mithrun stopped writing and patted your head as if comforting a dog.

- The Canaries are pleased that this is over. But actually, they’re going to have to watch you not realize it when you’re engaged to the Captain.

- At your wedding you’re in regular clothes. Someone asks why and you say “Mithrun told me we’re going to a wedding. He didn’t say it was ours.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

[kjupchurch-xx]

Conflicting Feelings

Author's Note: Let me start this by saying I mean absolutely zero disrespect to Hugh's ex wife with this story. I'm just coming up with ideas for chapters and trying to be creative, so please do not hate me for the story. I got this inspiration from a song I'd been listening to, so once again, no disrespect meant for his previous marriage or his ex-wife. This story is pure fiction and just meant to satisfy your need for Hugh Jackman fluff. 

Hugh and I have been friends for many years, despite our age gap of 20+ years. He was married to Debbora Furness and had been for the past 27 years. Our friendship was a platonic one, but we'd always had this strange chemistry. Hugh has been extremely loyal to Deb over the course of their marriage, despite his flirtatious nature. I'd love to tell you that I didn't have a thing for him, but I'd be lying to you. With that being said, I respect his marriage and I know my boundaries, which I'd never cross. 

I was sitting in my hotel room in California, it was coming up on 7pm, the sun starting to slowly sink down producing a beautiful cotton candy sky that could be seen from my suite's balcony that overlooked the city. I was getting ready for a date with a musician, who shall remain unnamed. I heard my phone ring from across the room, walking over and picking it up, expecting it to be my date, I noticed it was Hugh. 

"Hey Hugh, I can't-" I began but was immediately cut off by him sounding frantic, "I really need you right now." He said with a shaky, almost hoarse voice. 

My voice grew concerned, "Is everything okay?"

"Just send me your room number and the name of the hotel. We'll talk there." He said quickly before hanging up. 

What in the actual hell is going on? Did someone die? Is it cancer? I mean what is going on? A thousand thoughts raced through my mind as I quickly typed out my suite number and hotel into a text and sent it to him. Within minutes I heard a knock on my suite door. I ran up, opening the door to see a disheveled looking Hugh Jackman looking frantic. I quickly pulled him inside my room and he pulled me into a hug. I stood before him frozen in place, slowly wrapping my arms around him. 

"What's going on? Are you okay? Are Oscar and Ava okay? Is Deb-" I began to hit him with rapid fire questions trying to understand what's causing this kind of emotion from the man I'd known to always be so happy, go lucky. He cut me off, "She's gone. Deb's gone." He said, his voice trembling. 

I gasped in shock as my eyes widened, "What? What happened?" I asked, rubbing his back, leading him to the tan leather love seat that sat in the living room area of the suite. I'd never seen him this emotional outside of his acting. 

As we sat on the sofa, he continued holding me as if I were his security blanket. I repeated, "What happened?" causing him to look up at me with broken eyes. 

He covered his face, "She told me she wanted a divorce. She's moving her stuff out of the house and wants to be gone before I get back." I bit my bottom lip in disbelief, "Did she say why?" I asked trying to process what I was being told. 

He took a shaky breath before looking at me, "She says we've fallen out of love and are two different people now that 27 years have gone by. She says we want two entirely different things out of life." 

I shrugged, placing my hand on his knee. "Is she wrong?" I asked softly, looking at him, continuing to tremble with each word he spoke. 

He sighed, running his hand through his messy hair, "She's not wrong." 

I blinked, looking at him, taken back by his response, "What do you mean she's not wrong? What did you do?" 

He took a deep breath and began looking down, refusing to look me in the eyes and began shaking his head. I grabbed his hand, caressing it softly, "What happened, babe? You know I won't judge you. You know after years of confiding in me that you can tell me anything." 

He nodded, wiping a tear from his eyes, still shaking his head as if he were trying to process his own thoughts. He was being extremely cautious with his words. The sound of my phone ringing caused me to almost jump out of my skin. It had to be the guy I was supposed to be meeting tonight. I quickly grabbed my phone, silencing the call and put my attention back on the man that was sitting in front of me. 

He finally looked up at me, "Being married for as long as we were is hard work after awhile, especially when your world stops due to a pandemic and you're forced to actually face the problems in your marriage instead of being away for weeks or months at a time and being able to avoid them." I nodded, allowing him to continue, watching nervously grit his teeth, "I fucked up. I let my emotions get the best of me and instead of envisioning her, I began envisioning someone else. I knew it was wrong, so I stopped and began focusing all of my attention on Deb." 

I looked at him, "Okay, well I mean...That happens. You didn't physically do anything, did you?" I asked, furrowing my brows. 

He shook his head, "No, I didn't. But she knew something was up with me. And now, I can't keep running from it. Deb is a great person, she truly is. But this other person, it's like whenever I'm with them, life suddenly just...makes sense again." He said lowly while staring off into space as if actually saying the words caused him too much pain to admit. 

My phone began ringing again, I quickly grabbed it and answered, "Hey, look I'm sorry. I just had an emergency come up and I'm not going to be able to make it. I hope you understand." I said quickly, Hugh gave me a questioning look, and I knew he was curious as to who I was speaking to or who I had plans with. 

My date was disappointed to say the least, but he understood, so I took that as a chance to end the call. Hugh looked at me, "I shouldn't be here bothering you with this. Go on with your plans."  He sniffled, wiping his face with his head and standing up. 

I grabbed his hand, rolling my eyes, pulling him back down on the sofa, "No, it's okay. So things make more sense when you're with this person?" I asked, he looked at me nodding, but not speaking. "Does she feel the same way?" I asked. 

He shrugged, refusing to keep eye contact with me again, "I don't know if she does or doesn't. But I've been in a marriage that's lacked intimacy and has been more of a friendship arrangement for the past two years. This was not something I planned. I would never cheat on Deb, I just couldn't handle the charade anymore and I'm guessing she felt the same way."  

I wasn't exactly sure what to say anymore as I gazed at him allowing him to continue venting, "I just know that whenever I'm with this person, we can be in a room full of people and it's like they're not there. She makes me feel things that I haven't felt in the longest fucking time." 

I threw my hands up, "Go tell her then. If that's how you feel for this person, go talk to her. Hugh, you are an amazing man. What happened is unfortunate but people grow apart sometimes and there's nothing that can be done about it. You need to go tell this person how you feel." I said softly, giving him a small smile. "So who is it anyways? Is it the girl you're on broad way with? The one the rumor was about? Wasn't her name Sarah or something?" 

"Are you referring to Sutton?" He asked, looking at his hands. 

I nodded, "Yeah, that's her name. Sutton. Is it her?" 

He sat silent for a good two minutes, staring at his hands. There had been articles going around for months about him and his Music Man co-star, Sutton Foster having an affair. I honestly wouldn't be surprised at this point. I knew the effect the pandemic had on his marriage. He tells me literally everything and I've always been there as an ear or eyes for his texts regarding the issues he and Deb dealt with. 

After two minutes of complete silence, he spoke, looking at me, "I have something to tell you." 

I looked up at him with soft eyes, his hazel ones piercing through my soul, "It's Sutton, isn't it?" I asked knowingly. 

He slowly shook his head, "It's not Sutton and no, I didn't have an affair with Sutton." He simply said. 

I chuckled, "Okay, so who is it? It's not Zendaya, is it?" I asked, cringing at the thought of he and Zendaya together. Nothing against Zen, we're friends. But she also knows about the crush I have on my dear friend. 

He looked at cringing himself, "What? No. She's like a daughter to me." He said with a chuckle, "It's you." He said lowly. 

I took a deep breath, "It's me?" 

He looked down at the floor again, "Yeah." He was being short, as if he himself were in disbelief.

I furrowed my brows, "Why?" I asked, shaking my head in disbelief of what I was hearing.  

His voice began trembling again as he reached for my hand, interlocking it with his own, "Do you remember when my father died?" He asked, I nodded, "I rang you, and you jumped on a plane to come see me. You spent days going over my lines for The Son with me. That was when I realized it. I rang Deb first. All she could say was that she was sorry. But you, you booked a flight and flew across the world for me. I was in hysterics and you comforted me each time." I took another breath, remembering what had taken place when Hugh's dad passed away on Australia's Father's Day in 2021. 

"I swear to you, I tried. When I got back home, I tried to make those thoughts go away. That's why I distanced myself from you that following year. No matter what I did, no matter what she did, all I could see was you." He spoke honestly, tilting his head slightly, a hitch in his breathing as he continued to look at me, begging me to say anything. 

"I fell in love with you, but I didn't want you to know. I didn't want Deb to know. I didn't want anyone to know, so I tried my fucking bloody damnest to push it out of my head and it only made it more apparent. And I don't know if you feel the same w-" I couldn't take hearing him speak anymore, overwhelmed with emotion, I tightened the grip he had on my hand with my own and sent my lips crashing against his stopping him in his tracks. 

He brought his other hand up, grabbing my chin softly as his brain registered what was happening and began slowly moving his lips against mine. Pulling away, but pressing my forehead against his, as we both kept our eyes shut, I spoke, "I love you." barely above a whisper. I slowly opened my eyes to see his eyes staring into my own, our foreheads still pressed together, "But I didn't want this to happen like this."

I sighed, pulling away, "I don't want to be the reason your marriage ends. I'm not a home wrecker. I've loved you for years, why do you think I flew across the country when your father died and you called me hysterical? But I respect you, I respect Deb and I respect your marriage."

He looked at me, "My marriage ended two years ago. You're not a homewrecker and you did not cause this. Deb and I knew this was coming since the shut down over COVID. We didn't want to divorce for the sake of our children. We've just both gotten to the point where we want different things out of life and have decided for the sake of our happiness to end things. I'm heartbroken because I genuinely do love her as a person, and I did not want things to go the way they have.  But her and I have to find our own happiness and we've realized it wasn't with each other anymore." 

He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, "It's you. For the last two years, it's been you and you didn't even know it. You did nothing wrong, love."

I sat in silence. I'd worked so hard over the years to keep my feelings to myself and to never cross a boundary. But whenever he called me in tears over his father, I couldn't help myself but to want to be there for support. He needed it and was falling apart at the seams. I don't know why Deb didn't rush to his side. I don't know why all she could say was "Sorry, I'll see you when you get back to New York.". 

His eyes began pleading with me, as he slid off the sofa and onto the floor on his knees in front of me, still holding my hand, now grabbing my other one, "Please say something. Please." 

I swallowed the hard lump in my throat, exhaling the deep breath I had been holding, "Just hold me..." was all I could manage to say. 

He nodded, quickly sliding back to his position on the sofa, pulling my body into his chest, "Yeah?...I can do that." The feeling of his arms tightening around me as I sank my head into his chest. 

Where do we go from here?

[theyluvkarolina]

౨ৎ PANIC ౨ৎ

masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!

SUMMARY౨ৎ Oscar doesn’t mean to come off as a panicking first time father, but his little one is his whole world! How will that anxiety crawl up when and boil over when it’s her first Grand Prix?

PAIRING ౨ৎ Dad!Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS ౨ৎ oscar is just a nervous first time dad 😞

A/N ౨ৎ OSCAR REQUEST 🗣️, Sadie loves to terrorize Oscar, and I love that. A little menace she is.

OSCAR NEVER EXPECTED to be a father this young. He would have at least thought that he’d have a Championship, turn 25, or even get married before he had a child. But life had its own plans.

From the moment he first held her, everything else faded into the background. Racing, which had been the center of his universe, now revolved around his daughter. She was so small, so delicate, and every little noise she made sent his heart racing.

Oscar was known for being calm. Level headed. Realistic. Yet, when it came to his little girl, things changed. Drastically.

Everything was a threat. It started with the small things: a tiny cough, her first stumbles and falls when she first attempted walking, the way she’d put everything she found into her mouth. He tried to stay calm, telling himself that every parent worried, but it never took much for that anxiety to creep up on him. A trip to the playground turned into a mental obstacle course—every slide was too high, every swing too fast, and the idea of her falling down onto the wood chips make his skin crawl.

And now, it was the moment many fathers in Formula One would love: to see their children watch them race. But Oscar? He was a wreck.

`· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑

The night was quiet in Australia, the moonlight shining through the blinds of his parents home you both decided to stay in before the start of the Grand Prix around the corner with the chirping crickets forming their own harmony outside. With Sadie finally asleep in Oscar’s arms, a small smile tugged at your lips before you spoke.

“You know… I’ve been thinking.”

Oscar glanced over softly, his eyes warm with affection. “You? Thinking? I’m bracing myself here.”

“Haha. Funny.” You took a deep breath, carefully choosing your words. “I was thinking… maybe we should take Sadie to the Australian GP. I know it’s her first one, but it could be a special experience for her. And for us. I mean, it’s your home race. Our home race.”

Oscar's fingers lightly brushed against Sadie's soft, downy hair as he shifted her gently in his arms. The quiet, tender moment was interrupted by your suggestion, and his brow furrowed slightly in concern.

“..What?” He questioned, his Aussie accent slipping through. The thought of having his little girl at the track, in the midst of the roaring engines and flashing cameras, made him feel uneasy. It wasn’t the fact it was a race that concerned him but rather how unpredictable it is.

“Let’s take Sadie to the Grand Prix this weekend.” You repeated.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low. “It’s not exactly a calm environment. It’s loud, chaotic…”

You gently placed a hand on his arm, "I know, Oscar. But I think it would be good for her to see what you do, even if she’s too young to fully understand. It could be a special memory for us, and your Mum insists she comes with us for extra help."

Oscar’s grip tightened slightly on Sadie as he looked down at her peaceful face, her tiny hand curled around his thumb. “What if she gets scared? The noise alone could be overwhelming for her,” He murmured.

You leaned in closer, resting your head against his shoulder. “We’ll be right there with her. And she’ll have ear protection, and we’ll make sure she’s comfortable. Besides, she’ll be surrounded by people who love her, including your parents and sisters. It’ll be okay.”

Oscar didn’t seem convinced judging by his silence and expression on his face.

“Oscar, Sadie is a calm baby. Unusually calm.” You stated earning a small amused scoff, “Like how your Mum described you as a baby and kid kind of calm… without waking up screaming to be freed from the crib. She will be okay.”

Oscar sighed, feeling the weight of your words. You were right; Sadie was an unusually calm baby, a trait she no doubt inherited from him. But that didn’t stop the what-ifs from swirling around in his mind.

“Okay,” he said finally, his voice firmer now. “We’ll do it. We’ll take her to the Grand Prix.”

`· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑

Stepping into the Australian sun, the warmth envelops you like a blanket, its golden rays reflecting off the bustling excitement of the Australian Grand Prix.

“Sweetheart, do you have her-“

“Yes Oscar, I have her ear protection, I have her spare clothes just in case, and the baby bag is hanging on her stroller.” You reply with a amused smile at his questioning as we entered the paddock.

Oscar gave a relieved nod, looking over at Sadie in his arms who was taking in her new surroundings. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as you approached the McLaren garage.

The garage was abuzz with activity. Team members hurriedly prepared the cars, the unmistakable scent of gasoline and tire rubber filled the air, and mechanics shouted over the din of the crowd. Oscar's teammates and crew were working efficiently, their focus entirely on the task at hand.

As you reached the entrance to the McLaren garage, Oscar’s anxiety flared up again. “Do you think she’ll be okay in all this noise?” he asked, casting a worried glance at Sadie while he set her down, who seemed completely unfazed finding her balance.

“She’ll be fine, Oscar,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand. “Look at her. She’s curious, not scared. Besides, she’s got her daddy to protect her.”

Oscar smiled faintly at that, but the knots in his stomach refused to loosen. He glanced back at Sadie, who had wandered over to a stack of tires and was trying to peer around them. Every little movement she made seemed like a potential hazard in Oscar’s mind—what if she stumbled and hit her head? What if she got too close to something dangerous?

He quickly crossed the short distance to her, crouching down and gently steering her back toward the stroller. “Stay close, okay?” he said softly, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

Sadie looked up at him with a small smile, her tiny hand gripping his finger as she babbled something incoherent. Oscar’s heart melted a little, but the tension remained.

You watched him, your heart aching for the way he was trying so hard to keep it together. “Oscar, she’s safe. I promise you-”

As if on cue, Sadie eyes lit up as she spotted the bright orange McLaren car. Oscar couldn’t help but smile at her reaction. It was the first time he’d seen her show interest in his world…. or really anything besides her family.

Yet, that moment didn’t last long.

Sadie, determined to explore, suddenly let go of Oscar’s hand and toddled off towards the car. Oscar’s heart skipped a beat as he scrambled after her, scooping her up just as she reached the edge of the garage. “No, no, no… not there.” he muttered, holding her close as he carried her back to the you and the relative safety of the stroller.

“She’s fast,” one of the mechanics chuckled, having witnessed the scene. “She’s like Verstappen on track!”

Oscar simply gave a embarrassed chuckle after his daughter’s attempts of adventure. Yet, Sadie’s terrorizing didn’t end there. As the day progressed, Oscar and you did your best to keep Sadie entertained and safe in the bustling environment of the McLaren garage in preparing for the race. Unfortunately, she seemed determined to explore every inch of the place, much to both of your guys’s dismay.

INSTANCE 1: TIRES

As Oscar tried to get a moment of calm in the garage, he put Sadie down for a quick break next to her stroller. He was just about to check in with his team when he heard a faint sound. Spinning around, he saw that Sadie had wriggled out of her stroller’s harness and was crawling towards a rack of tires.

Oscar’s heart raced as he dashed over, his eyes wide with panic. “That’s where we aren’t going, Missy.” he exclaimed, scooping her up just as she was about to pull herself up onto the stack. The tires wobble precariously, and Oscar’s breath caught in his throat. He held her tightly, his face pale as he glanced around to see if anyone had noticed his near disaster.

The surrounding mechanics, sensing his distress, quickly stepped in to stabilize the tires. One of them patted him on the back, “Seems to me she wants to be part of the pit crew already!”

“Maybe she’ll be the one changing your tires this race!” Another commented with a laugh.

Oscar forced a smile, but the worry lines on his forehead remained.

INSTANCE 2:

As Oscar prepared for the race, you took over watching Sadie, trying to keep her entertained while Oscar suited up. You were stationed near the McLaren garage entrance, making sure to keep a watchful eye on Sadie who was now sitting contentedly in her stroller—at least for the moment.

However, as you turned to chat with one of the team’s engineers, you heard a soft giggle followed by a rapid series of thumps. Turning quickly, you saw Sadie had somehow managed to wriggle out of her stroller again and was crawling towards a set of hydraulic jacks. The sight of her tiny fingers reaching out to touch the massive equipment made your heart skip a beat.

“Nu uh, little lady! We don’t touch that! No no.” you exclaimed, rushing over to her. But as you got closer, Sadie let out a giggle as you lifted her up into your arms.

“I’ve never seen a baby this eager to be with McLaren.” Charlotte smiled as she passed by. “Perhaps she should start working with me at communications to be with Oscar more often!”

You gave a slightly embarrassed laugh as you buckled her in, she reached out with a pout, clearly unhappy with being restrained. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but we have to stay safe,” you murmured, brushing her hair back.

The rest of the crew chuckled at the spectacle, but you could see the worried look on Oscar’s face as he came out of his room, suited up in his gear. “Everything okay?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

“Just a small adventure with the hydraulic jacks,” you said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “She’s fine now, but we might need to make sure all the escape routes are blocked off.”

Oscar gave a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Noted…”

INSTANCE 3: THE LANDO OVERTAKE

As the tension in the garage reached a peak with the race fast approaching, Sadie’s curiosity showed no signs of waning. Oscar, now fully suited up and mentally bracing himself for the race, was still visibly on edge.

In the midst of the frantic pre-race preparations, you found yourself trying to keep Sadie entertained while Oscar finished his final checks with the team. However, Sadie’s attempts to explore had escalated to a full-blown quest for adventure.

The McLaren garage was abuzz with activity, but you kept a close eye on Sadie, who had recently discovered the appeal of the large, colorful tire barriers. She was reaching out, her small fingers attempting to grasp anything within her reach. Just as you managed to corral her back to the stroller, a familiar voice came from behind you both.

“Oscar, mate you look like you’ve went to hell and back.” Lando chuckled, approaching with a sympathetic grin. His eyes quickly darted to Sadie, who was now fixated on the box of tools that a mechanic handed her just to keep her occupied.

Oscar, still visibly stressed, gave a exhale, resting his head on your shoulder. “Lando, you have no idea. She’s like a magnet for trouble today.”

Lando and Sadie have met before, back when she was just born in a hospital visit.

Lando’s gaze softened as he crouched down to Sadie’s level, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hey there, Sadie. How’s it going, little lady? You’ve grown up quite a bit haven’t you?” he questioned, trying to capture her attention.

Sadie’s tiny head turned toward Lando, her eyes wide with interest with the new face for today. The sight of Lando’s playful demeanor seemed to break through her persistent determination. For a moment, she was entranced by his animated expressions and the sound of his voice.

She reached out towards him, her earlier determination to explore seemingly melting away in the face of his playful antics. Lando’s antics were enough to draw a genuine smile from her, and she even let out a small giggle, her tiny fingers grasping at his brightly colored McLaren cap.

Oscar, watching from a short distance, let out a relieved breath as he saw Sadie’s attention shift from her previous distractions. It was as if Lando had managed to temporarily derail her adventurous spirit with nothing more than charm and a few well-timed funny faces.

Needless to say, Oscar was astonished. He spent a handful of hours trying to stop her from even wandering off and all it took was a a small talk and a funny face?

“I…wha… how?!”

“Having a niece helps out a lot when it comes to kids, y’know.”

All that was left now was race time.

POST RACE

After all the chaos, Oscar achieved a solid P4 just behind Lando. Truely a race to remember compared to first race last year.

When he finally emerged from the car, the first thing he did was seek out you and his daughter. He was visibly relieved to find her in one piece, though she had managed to wriggle out of her stroller again and was now playing with the cap that Lando had given her.

Lando, who had been keeping an eye on Sadie during the race, gave Oscar a sympathetic grin. “You survived the race and the baby chaos. You’re a hero in my book.”

Oscar chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. He scooped Sadie up, finally able to relax. “Thanks, Lando. I think I need a nap after all this.”

As the team cleaned up and you all walked out of the garage, Sadie clinging to Oscar’s neck and half-asleep after all her terrorism she caused in the McLaren garage. Happily, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes but also a newfound contentment.

“We aren’t taking her to another race are we?” You questioned.

“Unless we got a baby leash like Kevin suggested? Hell no.” Oscar huffed out in response.

[hyunj1nsbae]

take it | H.H

chapter 1

ミ★pairings : bully!hyunjin x afab!reader

ミ★warnings: !MDNI! ,mean Hyunjin , creampie,cum exchanging/tasting,marking(f. Receiving),unprotected p in v(wrap before you tap!),fingering(f.receiving),semi-public sex, mentions of alcohol,choking,dacryphilia, reader is called slut&whore,manhandling, degrading kink

ミ★Wc : 3.2k

Note :first time writing smut i hate this so much I’m trying get better this was just a quick lil thing i made + not proofread. Reposting would be very helpful🥰

Every day was the same. From the moment you stepped into the school building to the second the final bell rang, Hyunjin was there. He seemed to find an endless supply of joy in making your life difficult. It started with little things—snide comments, “accidentally” knocking your books off your desk, smirking as he walked by with his friends. But over time, it escalated.

Today was no different.

You walked into class, trying to keep your head down. You’d perfected the art of becoming invisible over the past few months, hoping it would spare you from Hyunjin’s attention. But as usual, it didn’t work.

“Hey, loser,” Hyunjin’s voice was smooth, but there was a sharpness to it that sent a chill down your spine. You hadn’t even sat down yet, and already he was on you. 

You sighed inwardly, not daring to look up. Maybe if you didn’t react, he’d get bored. But of course, that wasn’t how it worked.

“What’s the matter? Can’t hear me?” Hyunjin continued, his voice dripping with mock concern. He leaned down closer to you, his breath warm against your ear. “Or are you just too dumb to understand?”

You clenched your fists under the desk, trying to focus on the blackboard in front of you. He wouldn’t get to you. Not today.

But Hyunjin wasn’t finished. “I’m talking to you,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. He flicked your ear, making you flinch involuntarily.

That tiny reaction was enough to make him grin in triumph. “There you go,” he said, straightening up. “See, wasn’t that hard, was it?” You kept your eyes down, praying for the teacher to walk in ,anything to make him stop.

Hyunjin seemed satisfied, at least for now. He backed off, wandering over to his desk with a smug expression on his face. You could hear his friends laughing in the background, obviously in on the joke. They always were.

You let out a shaky breath, hating how much he got under your skin. It wasn’t just the teasing,it was the way he made you feel so small, so stupid. And the worst part? You had no idea why he’d singled you out in the first place.

As the day dragged on, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feelings that had settled in your stomach. Hyunjin’s taunts seemed to echo in your mind, making it hard to focus on anything else. By the time the final bell rang, you were more than ready to get out of there.

You were packing up your things when a sudden tap on your shoulder made you jump. You turned around, expecting to see Hyunjin again, but instead, it was one of his friends, Minho.

“Hey,” he said, his tone surprisingly neutral. “You’re coming to the party tonight, right?”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “What party?”

“Hyunjin’s throwing a party at his place,” Minho explained, as if this were common knowledge. “Everyone’s gona be there.”

You hesitated, not sure what to make of this. Why would Minho invite you to Hyunjin’s party? It didn’t make any sense. But before you could respond, Minho gave you a grin. “It’s gonna be fun,you should come.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you standing there, completely bewildered.

You stared after him, your mind racing. The last place you wanted to be was at a party hosted by Hyunjin. at the same time, a small part of you was curious. Why had Minho invited you? was this some kind of trick? or did Hyunjin actually want you there?

The more you thought about it, the more the idea gnawed at you.

By the time you got home, you’d made up your mind. You were going to that party.

You’re wearing a sleek black pleated skirt that flares out just above your knees, paired with a fitted, cropped top in a deep burgundy that shows just a hint of skin. The outfit is completed with a pair of ankle boots and a simple choker necklace, adding a touch of edge to the look. The soft fabric of the skirt sways with every movement, drawing attention to your legs, while the deep color of the top highlights your figure perfectly.

The sound of bass-heavy music thumped through the walls of Hyunjin’s house as you approached. You could feel it in your chest, a steady, rhythmic beat that seemed to echo your own nervousness. The house was packed, lights flashing through the windows, and the faint smell of alcohol hung in the air

You hesitated at the door, rethinking your decision. What if this was a mistake? What if they were just waiting to humiliate you in front of everyone? But before you could turn back, the door swung open, and you found yourself face-to-face with Minho.

“Hey, you made it!” he said with a grin, leading you inside before you could respond. “Come on in.”

You found yourself trapped into the crowd of people. The music was louder inside, almost deafening, and you could barely hear yourself. You scanned the crowd, expecting Hyunjin to jump out at you at any moment, but there was no sign of him.

Instead, you found yourself being handed a drink by Minho. “Here,” he said, pushing the cup into your hands. “Have some fun.”

You took the cup, but didn’t drink. You weren’t sure you wanted to let your guard down just yet.

“Don’t look so nervous,” Minho said, noticing your hesitation. “It’s just a party.” you forced a smile, nodding. But as Minho wandered off, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched.

You spent the next hour trying to blend in, sticking to the edges of the party and avoiding eye contact. Every time someone bumped into you, you jumped,expecting it to be Hyunjin but there was still no sign of him.

Eventually, you found yourself in the kitchen, away from the crowd. You leaned against the counter, trying to catch your breath. Part of you wanted to leave, to just run out the door and never look back but another part of you was determined to stay, to prove that you weren’t afraid.

You were lost in thought when a voice suddenly interrupted you.

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to show up.”

You froze, recognizing the voice instantly. Hyunjin.

You turned around slowly, and there he was, leaning casually against the doorframe. His usual smirk was present, but there was something else in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite explain.

Hyunjin’s eyes linger on you the moment you turn around and he sees your outfit. The way the pleated skirt flares out just above your knees catches his attention, the subtle movement drawing his gaze. He notices how the deep burgundy top hugs your figure, showing off your curves in a way that makes his breath halt

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he thinks what it would be like to pull you closer, to feel you under of your skirt with his fingers as he holds you tight. The thought sends a thrill through him,making him even more determined to keep your attention on him tonight.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone light .

“I was invited” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “really?” Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “And here I thought you’d be too scared to show your face.”you bit back an insult, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of getting under your skin. “I’m not scared of you,” you said instead, hoping it sounded more convincing than it felt.

Hyunjin’s smirk widened. “Is that so?”

Before you could respond, a loud shout came from the living room, followed by a chorus of laughter. Hyunjin’s eyes flicked toward the noise, and he pushed off the doorframe.

“Come on,” he snapped, grabbing your wrist with a rough grip. “Don’t be a coward. They’re about to start something fun.” His tone was commanding, his eyes cold as he dragged you towards the commotion.

You had no choice but to follow as he pulled you into the living room, where a group of people had gathered in a loose circle. A girl you recognized from your biology class, Jisoo, was in the middle, holding an empty bottle.

“we’re  playing 7 minutes in heaven,” she announced with a mischievous grin.”who’s in?”

The room erupted into cheers and laughter as people started volunteering. You froze, suddenly understanding why Hyunjin had dragged you in here. This was exactly the kind of thing he would love to torment you with.

But before you could back out, Jisoo’s eyes landed on you. “Oh, look who we have here! Perfect timing.”

You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach as she waved you over. Hyunjin’s grip on your wrist tightened slightly, and you glanced at him, but his expression was unreadable.

“Come on, don’t be shy,” Jisoo said, her grin widening. “It’s all in good fun.”

You wanted to refuse, to walk away and avoid whatever humiliation they had planned for you. But something in Hyunjin’s gaze stopped you. Maybe it was the challenge in his eyes, or maybe it was the fact that you were tired of running.

“Fine,” you said, stepping forward. “I’ll play.”

The group cheered, and Jisoo handed you the bottle. “You spin first.”

Your heart was pounding as you took the bottle, your hands trembling slightly. You glanced at Hyunjin, but he was watching you with an unreadable expression.

You took a deep breath and spun the bottle.

It felt like the whole room held its breath as the bottle whirled around, you could feel your heartbeat  in your ears, and all you could think was, ‘please don’t land on Hyunjin please.’

But of course, the bottle had other plans.

The bottle slowed down, the spinning becoming more deliberate, until finally, it stopped. Pointing directly at Hyunjin.

There was a collective gasp from the crowd, followed by a burst of laughter and excited whispers.

Hyunjin pushed the closet door shut with a thud, the darkness enveloping both of you. The air was thick with tension. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “Do you think you can handle being here with me?”

You shivered at the heat in his voice, trying to steady your breathing. “Why are you doing this?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

He chuckled, the sound low and taunting. “Because you need to learn your place,” he said, his hands finding your shoulders and pushing you harshly against the wall.

He started to trace his fingers along your collarbone, his touch possessive. “You’re always so quiet, so submissive,” he said, lips brushing against your neck. “But I know you have a fire inside you. Show me.”

His hand moved slowly, almost deliberately, exploring every inch of your skin. His words were harsh, but his touch was betraying his true intent, leaving you in a confusing mix of discomfort and longing. You could feel the heat between you growing as he leaned in closer, his lips just inches from yours, teasing and demanding.

“You think you can resist me?” he asked, his voice a mix of challenge and desire. His hands were now gripping your waist, pulling you closer. “Or are you just going to give in and let me have my way with you?”

You could barely respond, the intensity of the moment consuming you.

“I fucking knew it,such a slut” he places a quick peck on your lips before snaking his large palms around your neck choking you. His other hand sliding down your body and groping your breast roughly as you let out a muffled moan. 

“What was that?,” Silence fills the room as only your quiet moans could be heard in the room and Hyunjins degrading penetrates through your eardrums “i can’t hear you , louder.” His words sliced through you, and you immediately obeyed, lowering your hand from your mouth. A moan escaped your lips, and he let out a low, satisfied giggle. “Such a good girl” he says, with his voice low and husky.

He then hikes up your skirt that just barely covered your ass and yanks your pretty pink underwear down to you knees before landing a harsh slap to your ass cheek causing you to wince and whimper in pain. “such a pretty pussy,” he uttered as he inserts a finger into your dripping cunt “all this f’me?” He taunts as he continues to finger you before slowly slipping another one of his slender, skillful fingers inside you, the sensation intensifying as he stretches you further. “Yes... fuck …all for you, Jinnie. Just for you.” You moan out breathlessly from the intense sensation as Hyunjin just savours every moment of your response.

he then kicks your legs apart , flipping you onto your stomach with a vicious snarl and begins to unbuckle his pants. “gonna be good f’me yeah? Gonna be a good little slut? Say it.” he said before taunting your hole by just circling his long girthy cock around it and pushed away every time you tried to sink down onto him “y-yes Hyunjin I’m gonna be good for you.. put it in please” you breathlessly responded “aww you’re gonna have to beg a lot harder than that if you want everyone to know who you belong to..” he chuckles looking at your face , so desperate for him “ please jinnie … let everyone know I belong to you, I’m your little slut” you plead

He emits a low, satisfied giggle before finally pushing into you, both of you moan, the feeling causing a mixture of pleasure and strain.he pushed ball deep into you, stretching you out in way you never knew you could be stretched in “ngh.. so. Fucking. Tight.” He punctuated every word with a thrust , his hips bucking into you . Your wetness and the aggressiveness led to his cock slipping out letting a cute little whine to leave your lips before grabbing his shaft and lining his angry red tip at your entrance , you’re taking control this time .

You sink down onto him, still trying to adjust to the stretch before finally moving and bouncing up and down. All that could be heard was hyunjins grunts as you plopped down onto him and the sound of flesh slapping flesh. “Fuuuuuuuck” hyunjin prolonged his words drunken in the pleasure as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He comes back to his senses and latches onto your neck like a parasite sucking,licking and biting hard, his lips tracing down your neck and his breath as hot as his touch. Your fingers were tangled in his hair as you bit your lip and tears start running down your face at the overstimulating sensation

He then moves down to your boob latching onto it before biting the sensitive nub and moaning into it “such a slut for me hm?” He whispered as he continued licking and biting purple marks all over your skin. Meanwhile, you are a moaning, wet mess on top of him, your sticky arousal getting everywhere as you feel your orgasm about to wash over “jinnie .. im gonna fuck I’m gonna cum” you cry out “not yet princess” you whine on top of Hyunjin ,your cries like music to his ears ”please jinnie” he responds with a harsh slap to your ass “I said not yet” he whispers in your ear almost growling .

His moans and grunts become louder “hah uh ha ha”

your moans were now also growing louder not caring who heard you anymore “so fucking tight, ngh is this what you’re into?”he breathlessly moans out and you just nod in response as he smirks at you realising the effect he has on you, “ me being mean to you? Such a dirty whore “he then rips out a high pitched moan as he quickens the pace.“ngh- uh ha hah ha,” you moaned as tears started flowing down your cheeks “jinnie … I -I can’t take it anymore so big-“ he cuts your moaning of with a passionate sloppy kiss while his cock was pumping with desire inside of you. you become a moaning mess screaming and crying over his cock ”awe my poor baby is crying , how cute ,take it.” he mocks you, him degrading you just turned you on even more ,made you’re delayed orgasm closer.

He lost himself in a sense of domination and power over you, your whimpers and the slapping of flesh against flesh almost made him cum right then and there. “fuck.. so full,” you cried out “jinnie i can’t take it anymore im gonna-“ “cum for me baby, show me how good you are for me”with that you yelp out in pleasure cumming hopelessly on Hyunjin “that’s it baby cum all over my cock” his breathing laboured and harsh and he continues pounding into you even after your orgasm fucking your cum back into your tight little hole , his breathing soon changes to grunts as he slams into you 3 times before a pretty strained moan leaves his lips “ ah- ngh..fuck” his hot seed splurted into you and he let out a roar of his release. 

Satisfied, he pulls out with his softening member glistening with your fluids and his own as if you were a trophy. You were lying there , a whimpering mess and shaking after Hyunjin had just violently rammed himself into your hole nonstop. He gathers the blend of your arousal and his, savoring it with a deliberate, lingering taste. As he pulls away, his eyes lock onto yours with an intense, hungry gaze. He leans in slowly, his lips brushing against yours with softness. The kiss deepens, becoming an exchange where he melds the intimate flavors,the two of you savour the kiss, ”so sweet,”he moaned into your mouth before pulling away a smiling “Told you, you wouldn’t be able to resist me,” Hyunjin teased, a smug grin on his face.

“Whatever, Hwang,” you shot back, trying to sound annoyed.

“Aww, but you were just moaning ‘Jinnie’ a moment ago,” he chuckled before imitating your moans, the teasing tone in his voice making you glare at him. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but crack a small smile.He smirked and helped you wear your clothes, his touch lingering just a bit too long as he’s about to place one single final mark on you before jisoo’s voice erupted from the other side of the door

“Hey guys, the 7 minutes are up! You can come out now!” Jisoo shouted.

Hyunjin smirked, his expression softening partially. “Sorry, baby,” he said, his voice low and almost tender as he wiped away your tears. He pressed quick, gentle kisses all over your face, each touch a contrast to his earlier harshness. “We’ll have to continue this another time, okay?”

You whimpered softly as he led you out of the closet, your hands entwined. The crowd’s murmurs grew louder, their eyes following you with a mix of curiosity and surprise. As you walked, you weren’t aware the evidence of your shared moment was clear, with a trail of wetness trailing down your thigh.

Shit.

ఌseries master list

[stuniolvs]

LOSS, JUDE BELLINGHAM

today jude had a game, you had stayed home because you were feeling slightly under the weather but you had promised him that you would watch from your bed.

as you watched you saw as the other team was aggressive and talented, as jude’s team fought hard they unfortunately faced a loss. the look of defeat etched on jude’s face made your stomach sink. you knew the stadium was a couple hours away, so you had to wait but in the meantime you texted him a short message,

‘good job today baby, i’m sorry you guys lost. you played really well i love you 💕’

as you sent the message jude immediately read it but never responded. you furrowed your brows at this, jude always responded. you turned off you phone and rolled over to blow your nose with the tissues on the bedside table. you hear the door slam but no jude.

you stepped out of bed your sock-clad feet tapping softly against the hardwood floors. you see jude standing in the kitchen, zoned out, eyes watery. “hey jude,” you start, placing a soft hand on his shoulder before he cuts you off “god yn! leave me alone!” he quickly storms off to your shared bedroom. the yelling had startled you and made your oncoming headache worse. you knew something was wrong so you weren’t mad, more concerned.

you softly walked over to the bedroom and opened the door slowly, you saw jude sat on the floor near the end of the bed. his shaky hands were pulling at his curly hair, he had tears rolling down his face as he struggled to breathe. “hey hey jude,” you sit in front of him and grab his hands out of his hair, holding them. he looks into your eyes “i- i- sor- can’t- breathe” “i know baby your gonna try to follow my breathing okay?” he softly nods his head in understanding, you place his hands on your chest. you take slow breaths as he follows “what happened baby?” you ask him as his breathing had regulated but he was still sobbing. “i-i played so bad and i knew you and jobe were watching. i disappointed everyone-“ you noticed as he started panicking again “jude you played great, you didn’t disappoint anyone, if anything you inspired jobe he has an amazing brother who although he was losing he fought his hardest to win for his team, that’s what makes a good football player, and you’re an amazing one i pinky promise” a smile broke out on his face as you held out your pinky he interlocked his pinky with you “im really sorry i yelled earlier” he sayed and he stuffed his head into your chest. “it’s okay baby it just made my heard hurt a little bit” he immediately shot up “are you okay? do you need anything? i’ll go get you-“ he rambles “baby im fine” “are you sure?” he grabs your hands, “positive” you confirmed “does this mean i can’t kiss you?” he sighs “not on the lips” you inform him, he softly kisses your forehead “can we lay down? i’m really tired after that.” he asks “let’s have a shower first jude, i’ll wash your hair for you.” he smiles “i’ll wash your hair for you too” he encourages rushing over to the bathroom and getting undressed.

“are you sure you’re okay?” jude asks while scrubbing the shampoo through the roots of your hair “yes, this feels nice, i just have a headache and stuffy nose.” you inform you “okay how about you take some medicine before we go to sleep” jude says grabbing the shower head and rinsing your hair out “i love your hair,” he compliments smiling as you turn around “thank you,” you blush “i love your hair too” you say kissing his cheek.

after your shower jude walks downstairs and gets you some medicine and water “here you go darling,” he hands them to you, “thank you” you kiss his nose. you guys then lay down holding jude to your chest. “i’m really proud of you jude, i love you” you kiss the top of his head “thank you, i love you more”

[dixons-sunshine]

No-Nonsense | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

A/N: I am so sorry this sucks. I’m moving in a few days, Saturday to be exact, and I’ve been packing non-stop today. When I finally sat down, my brain was fried and I couldn’t really think of words lol. This was the best I could do. I hope it’s still somewhat okay!

The sound of a disbelieving scoff being let out had Daryl tensing up. His cerulean-coloured eyes trailed over to where you leaned back against the wall, his hard, steel-like gaze resting on your face. “Ya got somethin’ ya wanna say, Sunshine?”

“Yeah, I do.” Your own angered stare rested solely upon the crossbow-wielding archer, T-Dog, Rick and the kid, Miguel or something, not even being on your mind at that moment. “I want a gun.”

Daryl rolled his eyes at your statement. He didn’t even know why Rick had bothered asking you along. If shit hit the fan, you wouldn’t be able to protect yourself, and the archer didn’t feel like dying for some woman he didn’t even care for. Sure, you were a resident at Atlanta General before the world ended and had come along to check if Merle had potentially suffered from heatstroke, but other than that, you were useless. At least, to Daryl’s knowledge.

“Yeah, well ya ain’t gettin’ one. I ain’t ‘bout to have my head blown off ‘cause’a yer shit aim,” Daryl told you defiantly. Truth be told, he did not even know whether or not you could use a gun, but if your hesitance towards even looking at Dale’s shotgun back at the camp was anything to go by, it was best not to trust you with a weapon that could potentially lead to his demise.

Cleverly sensing that the situation would escalate without an intervention, the self-appointed leader stepped forward and between your’s and Daryl’s line of sight. “No need to get at each other’s throats.” Rick sighed, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. The last thing he wanted was for blood to be spilled over something as meaningless as an argument. The main concern was getting Glenn back. Rick turned towards you, an understanding glint in his eyes. “Shane told me you didn’t know how to handle a gun. I’m guessin’ he’s got it wrong.”

“Shane doesn’t know shit,” you spat bitterly, pushing yourself off the wall. “I know how to use a gun. I just don’t like it.”

“Yeah, well s’the way’a life now, Sweetheart. Better get to likin’ it real quick,” Daryl interjected before Rick could respond. He picked up his crossbow and slung it across his shoulder. “‘Sides, how do we know ya ain’t jus’ lyin’ to us?”

“You don’t,” you began, your jaw clenching as you tried to suppress your anger. “I could be lying to you, or I could be telling the truth. Either way, I’m not walking into that place with nothing but my good looks. So we can continue to argue about this all day, or you can stop being an asshole, shut up, trust me, and give me a goddamn gun, or else you can tend to your brother’s wounds on your own if we find him. Your choice.”

If there was one thing Daryl had to give you points for, it was your no-nonsense attitude. Most of the women at the camp seemed to fear him, but you didn’t. Time and time again, you stood up to both Shane and Merle. You refused to be belittled, and he respected you for that. You could stand your ground, regardless of the person you faced.

Swallowing his pride, because he sensed that he could potentially have been in the wrong, Daryl reached forward and grabbed a handgun from the table. He offered it to you, and when you wrapped your hand around the handle, his hand lingered on the weapon for a few moments. “Jus’ so ya know, I ain’t gon’ carry ya when ya shoot yerself in the foot.”

Against your better judgement, you sent him a small smile. “And I’m not gonna carry you when that guy shoots you in the ass for shooting him in his.”

Daryl let out a small huff of laughter. Under normal circumstances, the archer would have still been pissed. However, for some reason, seeing your smile made his anger fade away and be replaced with another feeling, one that unnerved him beyond belief. However, he pushed that odd, fluttery feeling to the depths of his mind. There were far more pressing matters at hand.

Before he could speak up, Rick’s voice flooded the air, making you and Daryl practically jump apart. “Now that that’s settled, let’s get goin’.” For added emphasis, he cocked his gun, motioning towards the kid. “Let’s get Glenn back.”

You spared one last look at the brooding archer. He gave you a small nod, a stark contrast to his previously angered, frustrated state. “After you,” he mumbled, motioning towards the door.

You sent him a playful smirk as you walked past him. “Why, thank you. That was almost gentlemanly of you.”

“Keep up the smart ass remarks and m’shootin’ an arrow into yer behind.”

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ just makes sense ⋆⭒˚.⋆

idol!Jae x f!idol!reader

summary: your and Jaehyun's fans just really can't believe that they two of you are just best friends

(cw: f!reader, idol!reader, I used 'y/n' :(, "shit")

Ever since you joined SM you and Jaehyun had been joined at the hip. He was the awkward little guy with the bowl cut and high pitched voice who was just awkward enough to be endearing. It was lucky that you had both joined at similar times, within weeks of each other, so really who better to understand what you were going through than him?

He helped you learn your dances, you helped him moisturize his hair, he brought you food, and you reassured him that his comeback outfits weren't ugly, even if they were. The friendship just grew and grew, from trainees to full fledged idols who debuted and had their own fans.

You were both the first ones to congratulate each other on comebacks and awards, always there supporting the other. Weirdly, your friendship was either something that management didn't care about or didn't keep as close of an eye on. Their idols being good friends shouldn't be a concern for them, it was a good thing.

It was a nice relationship to show to the public that idols could be friends even with their hectic schedules and levels of fame. Through the years there had been countless pictures of you and Jaehyun out together in so many places. There were late night snack runs, a collection of those from trainee days and even now, neither of you with a spec of makeup or fancy clothes on. There were the lunches you both met up for, a few with your fellow members joining but mostly just the two of you eating and laughing.

Of course there were fans of your group and NCT who wanted you and Jaehyun to be together. They claimed that you brought out the good in each other, neither of you cared what the other acted like, and you brought out a genuineness in the other that was rarely seen. You had to admit you did like that, there was no one in the world closer to you than Jaehyun. He was your best friend, even after all these years, the levels of fame, touring, random hours, and missed hangouts didn't dampen your friendship at all.

As time went on though, fans became more passionate for their ship. You were constantly tagged in videos of the two of you together and they were cute. How could they not be? Videos of you and your best friend doing your own dances on the SM Town stage, clips of both of you backstage supporting the other, blurry clips of you in the NCT dressing room knocked out on Jaehyun's shoulder, a clip of Jaehyun leaving your dance studio in one of your group's vlogs.

Then there were the pictures that you had both posted of each other, never before seen pictures until it was you birthday or his, the cakes you sent the other for birthday lives, or flowers you both sent after big shows, even pictures and videos of you in the NCT crowd with your own Neobong following the dances perfectly in sync.

Pair all that with the random clips of your members randomly mentioning you being out with Jaehyun, Jaehyun stopping by for dinner, Jaehyun sending snacks during a choreography day, or members of NCT mentioning that you stopped by to congratulate them backstage or short clips of Jaehyun in the background on the phone with you.

It was the countless posts and comments in the collection of pictures and edits of people saying they just could not believe you two weren't together that made you laugh. It was just a known fact, in your early years of being an idol you had even dated someone else, but that didn't stop or hinder you and Jaehyun in any way. If you were a fan, you would get lost in it all too!

So why was being up at 3 in the morning making you question your feelings for your best friend? A decade of friendship with no other instances of you even feeling remotely attracted to him, but a complication titled "Jaehyun and Y/N being the definition of best friends to lovers for 13 minutes straight" was going to be the one to change it? Was Reason Number 8, looking at him like he was the best thing since sliced bread, true? Did you really look at him differently than you looked at anyone else?

You groaned, swiping the video closed and calling the man himself. The line rang for maybe 5 seconds before he answered tiredly, shit, he was promoting. Now you felt bad.

His voice was groggy and low, "hello? Are you ok?"

"Do you think I'm in love with you?" You asked. Straight to the point, there was no room or time to be awkward with the person who knew you best.

He coughed, actually, it sounded like he was choking. He cleared his voice came out hoarse, "No, I think you love me because we're best friends, but I don't think you're in love with me." The line went silent for a bit, before he quietly asked, " are you?"

For whatever reason you felt pressure behind your eyes as you sat up, hot tears lined your eyes as you shyly responded, "I don't think so, but would it be a bad thing if I was? Maybe one day in the future?"

You could hear the sheets on his end rustling as he likely sat up or readjusted himself in bed. "No way," he answered quickly and confidently, "would it be bad for you if I maybe one day fell in love with you?"

You wiped away a tear as a tear managed to escape, shaking your head and letting out a sigh of relief, "No."

"So... do you maybe want to give the romance part a try?"

"Yeah," you reply, feeling like a weight as been lifted off your shoulders, "but you have to promise that if anything goes wrong we're still going to be best friends, ok?"

"Nah," he sighs, letting out a yawn, "now that I have you, I'm not letting you go. Good night."

You're glad that it's a normal phone call so he can't see the flush that spreads across your cheeks, "good night, Jae."

A week later when you two go on your first date, nothing has changed between the two of you. You talk like normal, you laugh as usual, the conversation isn't awkward, but he drops you off right on your doorstep with a kiss and rosy cheeks.

A month later when SM puts out a statement nothing between the two of you changes either. Except this time you don't read the comments about the two of you alone, you read them together. Because that's how it's always going to be from now on.

[penvisions]

there's a place and time {joel miller x reader}

Pairing: Younger / No-outbreak! Joel Miller x Neighbor! Reader

Summary: Moving back to your parents house wasn't part of the plan, neither was being a thorn in your neighbor's side. but you roll with the punches, and hey, he's kinda cute when he gets huffy.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: age gap (joel is mid 30's / reader is mid 20's), angst, biting words, argumentative language, joel is a lil meanie but so is reader, grief, off-screen loss, depictions of depression, comfort, mushy stuff

A/N: this literally came out of nowhere, a random thought on the way to work and then a manic two hours of writing once i got home. this turned out a little different than first imagined, but i hope it reads well!

navigation || joel miller masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“Why don’t you date?”

“Excuse me?” The form crouched in between kitchen counters looked up at you with a raised brow, surely mishearing the question.

“Dating, I know you know what that is.” You repeat yourself as you push your arms back to brace on the counter and hop up on it. The granite of it is cold on your bare thighs, the shorts you were wearing thrown on haphazardly when a panic stricken pair of teenagers had begun to bang on your door in the early afternoon. The words of ‘fire’ and “help!” spurring you into action where you had been napping on your couch. Now though, the oven was off, the blackened frozen pizza still on the rack and covered in foam from the fire extinguisher neither of them had known how to use. Their father had sent them upstairs, thanking you for helping them out and getting it taken care of. “Or the concept at least, yeah?”

“Don’t mean it’s any of your business, little lady.” Joel’s voice leaves no room for further conversation as he realizes you’re more serious than need be. Little quips between you two common, the unspoken understanding of not discussing the reason for your presence in the neighborhood mutual.

“I dunno, I remember you being real keen on the idea of me babysitting.” You take a sip of your soda, swiped from the fridge after everything had calmed down. “Would do you a favor now, should you need the night off for some…fun.”

“Dating and fun are two different things.”

“Dating can be fun, if you do it with the right person.”

“Yeah, and what do you know about that? Saw you move in all by your lonesome. No big, burly man helping you with your boxes.”

The fizzy drink sours on your tongue and you toss him a scowl as he stands. He’s a few feet away but you can feel the warmth of him as he stands at his full height. He’s reaching to close the oven door, the creak of metal on metal loud in the beat of silence.

“You wouldn’t know fun if it bit you on your perky ass, Miller.”

“Language, you’re in my house.” His brow furrows and he pins you with a stern look. Something you’d seen him give to his brother, his girls, the neighbor across the way when she wouldn’t take the hint that he didn’t want her dog shit in his yard.

“Old men like yourself deserve to have some fun every once in a while. They deserve happiness too.”

“Even if I did, it’s no concern of yours. Your daddy didn’t help pay for two degrees for you to end up babysitting for grocery money.”

The rebuttal on the tip of your tongue suddenly dissolved as you felt a shiver run down your spine. He’s right, you know he’s right. But you just…you couldn’t even open the envelope with the certificates let alone add them to your resume and begin the arduous task of job hunting.

“Fuck you, I was only offering to help out a neighbor.” The words are rough, rounded out with the weight of too many emotions. You shove off from the counter, abandoning your half-finished drink. A delicacy you enjoyed only over at his house, too expensive for you to indulge in as bills you never anticipated paying became your responsibility.

“I didn’t mean-“ He had the self-awareness to realize he said the wrong thing. His hands coming up from his waist to reach out for you, but you don’t look over your shoulder as you make your way through the kitchen.

“Don’t come to me if you do need someone to look after the girls. I wouldn’t take your money anyway.”

“C’mon now,” His full lips shape around your name, but you’re already out the door. Resisting the urge to let it slam shut behind you, your anger still so sharp and hot. But the girls didn’t deserve to feel it, even the echo of it in the slamming of a door. Despite being a dick, Joel was a good father to them. He’d made his home a nurturing and loving environment. You didn’t want to taint it with your stained hands.

As he stands there in his empty kitchen, the smell of burnt dough, smoke, and ammonia dizzies him as he watches you cross over his yard to yours next door. The blank expression on your face and the faint smears of dried pant all over your legs makes him regret his fast words. He had been going for teasing, but of course they had come out harsh and wounding.

You were someone he didn’t know how to interact with. So sweet and polite with the girls, with the neighbors. But you were a firecracker with him. Teasing, whipping words that rung around his head, and he recalled far too often. The little smirk that pulled at your lips as you said them, waited for his response or sputtering lack of one. His own pulled from him, making him feel like a teenager again, like a young man you hadn’t been suddenly left alone to raise a child. Like his old self, someone who stood a chance with you as you gave him your attention time and time again.

He had only ever met you through the words of your parents, the people who had once occupied the house beside his own. He had moved in with two six-year-olds just as you had shoved off to college upstate. The running joke was that it was perfect timing for him to have missed out on the perfect babysitter.

-

Graduation is supposed to be a time of celebration and proud smiles, at least that’s what everyone else got. The day you had counted down on the calendar and crossed off the passing ones as it neared was now a blur of too bright colors and phone calls with people telling you things you didn’t want to think about, let alone hear as your new reality.

A car accident, on the drive upstate. Both parents, reckless driver.

A house that had been recently paid off, left to you. Your name already on the deed, something you didn’t want to think about too hard. Close, you had been close with each of them and them as a unit. A small family but understanding. It was yours, the backdrop to your life and suddenly the two people were only memories.

The move had been quick, the apartment you shared with fellow graduate students mostly books and a beautiful desk. The bedframe taken apart to go while the shelves had been left for the next occupants.

You hadn’t shared the news with any of your roommates or friends, not wanting to taint their own celebrations and happy memories of the day you all worked so hard for. Addresses were exchanged, well wishes were meant, but of course it all faded as time had gone on. Their news of job offers and exciting dates had been good to hear, but with no good things to respond with of your own, it was hard to feel the same way about them as you once had. They reached out, worry coloring their words, which made you feel even worse.

It haunts you for days, as you seal yourself into the home that is now yours alone. The paint slathered on canvas dries and the brushes coated in it turn into hardened caps over the bristles. You’re allowing things to sit for too long, the water evaporating in the cups you use to rinse between swatches of color. The open paint tubes oxidizing and becoming unsalvageable. But you have no control.

The bed becomes damp with nights of sweat, from your tossing and turning body as the heat rises and the air conditioning that needs to be repaired is just another phone call. You don’t even think you know where your phone is. It can’t bear bad news if you don’t answer it. It can’t carry the end of your world if you don’t let it.

There’s a sharp knock on the door at some point, in the midst of the haze of days after storming out of Joel’s kitchen. You hadn’t been able to dissect the sounds of life going on outside your closed windows.

But it had, to the point where now someone was calling on you to make you return to it.

Shrugging on a robe, you hold it tight to your aching body as you push up from the bed. Bare feet sticking to the hardwood floor as the heat fills the home.

“What?” You can’t help but bark as you swing the door open, only to find a concerned Joel on the porch, with your phone in his hand.

“I found this in the kitchen, must’ve fallen off the counter in the madness of getting the fire out and callin’ me.” He holds it out to you, but you don’t move to take it. “Figured you needed it, there’s a lot of missed calls and voicemails. I may have left a few too, to check on ya. Haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“Been here, painting.”

“Okay, that’s…that’s good. Got everything you need? Food, water, someone comin’ to fix the A/C?” It’s an apology in the only way Joel Miller is capable of giving, the need to make sure someone is getting what they need, that they’re taken care of. He’s a good provider, to his girls, to his brother, to the neighborhood when he’s not beat down from long days in the sun with concrete and paint dried to his skin, with wood shavings and stain splotched on his jeans.

“No.”

“No?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m my own person.”

Your name leaves his mouth on a sigh.

“I know that, but your parents…I know that kinda thing is-“

“I’m fine. Thanks for returning this.” You snatch it from his hand and go to close to door, not willing to hear what he has to say on the loss of your parents. For his credit, he let’s you. Knowing that you’re going through the motions, through the event in your own way. It doesn’t stop him from speaking loud enough for you to hear him through the door.

“The girls will be by with dinner later! Try to be nice to them, they ain’t me!”

-

The meal delivered by two smiling teenagers does lift your spirits a bit, even if all you do is shower and do a few loads of laundry. It’s a long process, the climb out of the hole that you had found yourself in.

Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months. You’re back to quipping across the yard with the man. His daughters delighting in the comraderies that underlies it all. It’s the height of summer now, the girls spending time with you to try their hand at painting. Sarah is better with bursts of color that compliment each other, vaguely floral. While Ellie is better with a muted palette imposed between detailed line art.

They always thank you for the time and attention, offering to help you clean up or tidy the house in exchange for watching over them when you notice Joel’s truck is still gone from their own driveway until late. They aren’t helpless, but you know what loneliness feels like and you don’t want them to become familiar with it.

You finally open the envelope containing your degrees, the last letters from your friends and pen down long responses. The stamps cute as you drop them off at the post office, the ornate certificates framed and hung above the desk in your father’s old office alongside his own.

Joel joins them most days, mid meal if he can make it in time. Food finding it’s way into your kitchen, something you’re sure is the combined effort of two pairs of small hands and one pair of big hands. The least you could do is turn it into something for everyone involved to enjoy.

But just as things seem to progress, they fall back apart. It wasn’t over a throwaway comment this time, though, but a piece of mail delivered from a local gallery asking after your willingness to partake in an exhibit. That they expressed their deepest condolences in this trying time.

The paint dries up again, another set of brushes left to ruin. The door goes unanswered, as does the phone you can hardly stand to look at. The lights don’t glow in the windows once the sun sets, no music is heard from behind thin screens, nor the sound of you humming along to it.

The house becomes a burden once again, shielding you from the world you as you feel the loss of your parents all over again.

-

You don’t hear the door open from where you’re sprawled on the floor of the bathroom, the shower is running but you didn’t make it under the spray. You’re fully clothed, having reached down underneath the vanity for a bottle of shampoo when your fingers had brushed over something else. A bottle of your mother’s favorite perfume. The one that lingered in every room she occupied, on every piece of clothing she adorned. It was her, the perfect encapsulation of who she was.

And it was staring at you inconspicuously from the shelf. The mere sight of it tearing the wound open once again and making it hard to breath.

That’s where Joel finds you. In tears over something as trivial as a tiny glass bottle. But he doesn’t bat an eye, he’s taking in the scene and shutting off the shower in a few easy steps.

“Hey now, come ‘ere, darlin’,” He’s crouching down beside you, hands reaching for your shaking body.

He’s so gentle, so soft as he pulls you up from the tiled floor and into his chest. Leaning back against rhe now closed vanity to support your weight. One hand on the back of your head, holding it to his chest, pleading with you to match his breathing so you don’t hurt yourself.

“Datin’ is hard, you’re right.” His words make you pause, confusion crowding out the wetness lingering in your eyes. The words from a conversation long ago pulling you out of your breakdown, the casual way he continues it.

“It is.” You insist, voice small and muffled as you refuse to pull your face from where it’s pressed against the warmth of his chest.

“Maybe…. maybe you’d be kind enough to try it with this grumpy old man. I’d sure like to give it a shot with someone like you.”

“I ain’t nothin’ special. Just the neighbor girl your dead friends talked about too much.”

“They loved you, darlin’. With everythin’ they had.” He holds tight to the hand you move underneath one of his. Seeking him out, to feel his skin on your own. “You are special, those paintings they showed me, you got a gift, honey.”

“Gifts don’t mean nothin’ when you got no one to share them with.”

“You share ‘em with the girls, they loved coming over here to spend time with you. Share ‘em with me, if you want. The girls and I are in your corner, we got you.”

“You don’t…you don’t want to date me. Every boy-“

“Boys don’t know how to date, that’s only something us old men know how to do. Will you let me show you, how it feels to be taken care of and looked after? To feel appreciated and like you aren’t a hindrance on nightly plans to play fuckin’ video games?”

“I like video games,” You sniffle, voice gaining strength as the conversation goes on. He’s soothing you, even as he just sits on the floor with you in his lap, his arms around you and your body pressed up against him. It’s the most comfortable you’ve felt in months. And it’s just Joel being Joel, it’s just you being you.

“Show me, if you want. Let me get to know you, let me show you what it’s like to be loved, not just sought after for a night of fun.”

“I don’t date old men.”

“No?”

“You’re not that much older than me, so I wouldn’t really call you old.”

“Cause then you’d have to admit you’re old too, huh?” He reads the meaning behind the change of thought, as if he was in your head right there alongside you.

“Yeah, we ain’t old. Life just beat us down, but damn if it didn’t touch your perky ass.” You reach a hand down from where it’s cradled between your chests, to pinch at where his backside it firmly planted on the floor. He jolts a bit, not expecting the action. But his rumbling laugh lightens the air around you both even more so.

“You goin’ soft on me, a compliment like that is makin’ my heart pick up. Can you feel it?”

“Yeah, cause you’re a big ole sap.” You can’t help the breathy chuckle that escapes past your lips, the twitch of a smile trying to break out. You can, indeed, feel the way his heart is thudding in his chest. The truth of your words and his making you feel some of the weight lift from your own.

“You ain’t gotta clue how sappy I could me, lemme show you, huh?”

“Only if you promise it’ll make me roll my eyes and groan.” You lean back enough to see his face, the roll of your eyes up to take in his hopeful expression allowing you to know how much he means it. Your own heartbeat picks up and you swear he can feel it too, if the crook of his lips underneath his mustache is any indication.

“Only if you promise to have a smile on your face while you do it.” He leans in, nose brushing against yours. The action so soft, so welcome after the isolation you had subjected yourself to.

“Deal.” You breathe out against his lips.

“It’s a deal then.” He presses them to yours, and damn it all, but it does bring a smile to your face.

taglist: @sawymredfox @tuquoquebrute @littlemisspascal @hiddenbabynyc @jessthebaker

@joelsgreys @tonysopranosrobe @morallyinept

[pellucid-constellations]

The Construct of Loyalty

Pairing: Cassian x Rhys's Sister!Reader

Summary: After months of "disobedience" your father calls upon Cassian to be your personal guard. That leaves Cassian, a soldier in the Night Court army, your childhood friend, and a man deeply in love with you, to protect you from all fronts—including the arranged marriage you were born into.

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: Angst, arranged marriage, panic attacks, dual pov ;)

a/n: This wasn't going to be so long initially but then whoops it developed its own life. Part two will be necessary I think ♡ For context and clarification, the reader grew up with the IC and everyone is around 50-70 rn. Rhys's other sister is alive still but not really important to the plot.

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

“What if we just—” 

“No, y/n.” 

“But, Cassian, this is ridiculous. I’ve been stuck in here for three days.” 

“And you’ll be stuck a lot longer if you disobey your father again.” 

“You don’t even like the guy! Why are you so intent on kissing his ass?” 

Cassian bit the inside of his cheek and narrowed his eyes at the defeated posture you’d adopted. In truth, he didn’t like your father—hated him, actually. But Cassian knew the life you lived and what would come if you continued to act out against him. He knew things were becoming serious because Rhysand voiced his concerns over your circumstances when he was usually too protective to divulge anything, and he knew things were bad because the High Lord of the Night Court tasked him to watch over you. 

Him, a bastard-born Illyrian who was nothing more than dirt on the bottom of his shoe. 

But Cassian was dirt that you’d actually listen to. 

According to Rhys, your father had appointed six high fae to be your personal guard over the past six months. All six had been sent away rather abruptly when they failed to rein you in. But “rein you in” was a ridiculous sentiment, as you called it. All you wanted to do was to get out of the room your father kept you cloistered in and actually experience a life. 

You wanted to speak to people who weren’t your assigned propriety tutors or servants. You wanted to get out of the Moonstone Palace and be a person outside of the marital obligations your father placed on you. You wanted to shop in Verlaris with Mor and make Cassian take you flying and, above all, you wanted to understand your magic—to hone the combination of night and day that your father’s choice of mistress had carefully curated.

Because that union was the entire purpose of your birth, and the moment you turned 50 you were ripped from your family and hurled into the Moonstone Palace to live out your purpose. 

You were to be the figurehead of the alliance between Night and Day and you were to fulfill that duty through marriage. 

It didn’t matter that you were hardly seen as a person; you were a pawn, and as long as your father lived, you would continue to be used and maneuvered as the court saw fit. 

Rhysand had been trying his hardest to keep you from marriage for as long as he could, but the more you acted against your father’s wishes, the closer you got to your fate. 

You knew it was coming. You’d had far more freedom before you turned 50 but you’d still lived under your father’s thumb. Cassian always hated watching you get pulled from quiet nights in with your sister and would cast you sad looks when you were made to watch from the sidelines when everyone else was training. But that had always been your life, and there was never anything he could do about it. 

Cassian clenched his jaw in abject frustration. “Y/n… don’t do this.” 

You scoffed and harshly sat on your bed, the gauzy material of your dress splaying up before floating back down to rest on the blankets. Whatever hairstyle had been twisted upon your crown this morning was unraveling in a pretty mess around your face and Cassian itched to brush away the strands. 

You’d always been so pretty. 

He turned his fingers into his palm as you began to speak. “He wouldn’t even have to know. I wouldn’t leave your side once,” you mumbled. Your words felt more like a routine and less like an actual request. Because Cassian always said no when the other guards always gave in too easily. 

Or you had simply slipped past them too easily. 

“Look, Starfall is coming up. I’m sure your father would let you go out to be with everyone.” 

You twisted your mouth in a way Cassian knew meant you were trying not to cry. You blinked up to look at the ceiling and nodded your head with your teeth embedded in your bottom lip, and Cassian’s heart was dangerously close to breaking. 

When he’d gotten the station report—or rather, demand—to be your personal guard, Cassian had seen it as a good thing. He’d get a break from the grueling hours of being a soldier in the Night Court’s troops and he’d get to spend more time with you. He’d missed you terribly since you’d been sent to Hewn City. 

But then he’d gotten to your room and spent three weeks telling you no and watching you go stir crazy and he was three seconds away from caving. It wasn’t surprising that the other appointed guards had failed so quickly—you were too lovely to deny, especially when you looked so sad. 

Cassian breathed out a sigh and walked to your seat on the bed, his leathers groaning as he moved to crouch at your feet. You were still staring at the ceiling and Cassian was still aching to somehow fix all of this. 

“Hey,” he prompted. When you only tightened your grip on the piles of luxurious blankets on your bed, Cassian took your chin between his finger and thumb and brought your gaze down to him. “There she is,” he smiled, but the hazy gleam in your eye felt like a punch to the gut. 

“I hate this,” you whispered, all shaky and upset.

Cassian tsked. “I know, sweetheart.” 

“I just want to go back home.” 

“I know.” 

“It’s so weird that you’re in charge of me.” 

Cassian snorted. “I’m not in charge of you. I’m the one that has to follow you around.” 

You narrowed your watery eyes. “If that were true you’d let me go back to Velaris. Or go anywhere other than this wretched place.” 

“Well, in that way I guess I’m more protecting you than in charge of you. That’s what a guard does, sweetheart.” 

“Protecting me,” you laughed, jaw clenching as Cassian kept it in his soft hold. “What would be so dangerous about going to Velaris, hm? Or… running away. Really, really far away.” 

“Can’t run away, y/n. We’d all miss you too much,” Cassian teased, but the hint of panic in his eyes was unmistakable.

You raised an unamused brow. “Because you all see me so much now.” 

Cassian offered you a bittersweet smile and gave your cheek a soft pat. “You know I’m not protecting you from the people out there. You know why I won’t let you leave.” 

You looked resigned, but that reality was becoming more commonplace. You sighed and reached up to place your touch on Cassian’s knuckles. “I know, Cass,” you hummed. “I know.” 

~~

You shifted in your seat for the countless time that evening, the stone throne at your back doing little for comfort. The heavy crown on your head was giving you a headache and your father kept yelling, exacerbating the pounding behind your eyes. 

You were made to attend official court business more often, your father assimilating you into the role he birthed you for with more urgency as you rebelled. Cassian stood behind you with a stiff posture and murder in his eye, playing the role of a guard to perfection. And you knew, with all certainty, that if anyone looked at you wrong they would be on the floor. 

That was one benefit of having a personal guard—even more so a guard that you grew up with. 

“—not accept this insolence,” you heard your father bite out. He jutted his hand back to the shorter throne you sat upon. “And you bring it in front of my daughter. I won’t have this. Not in my court.” 

You hid a flinch as the man before the dais was forced to the ground by a free-flowing darkness you could recognize anywhere. 

Your father’s show of power. 

The man screamed and pleaded and you couldn’t remember what had brought him to this, but you knew this was just a ploy by your father to assert his dominance over the court. You breathed through your nose as he continued to scream and plead, pressing your lips into a line and maintaining your mask of neutrality and boredom. 

You were never made out for the life your father expected from you. 

After the man was thoroughly incapacitated and groaning, your father let up and sent him away and you were left feeling sick to your stomach. 

Almost done, you reminded yourself, and then you could rot in your room with nothing to occupy you but the dread of your upcoming fate. You could feel Cassian’s presence at your back and it was somewhat reassuring that he would be rotting along with you. Maybe he would even play cards with you today or you could pass the time begging him to help you with your magic.

He always denied with an apologetic expression and you knew, deep down, that he would never agree to anything. The back and forth was simply a way to get through the day. 

The doors to the throne room burst open with a loud boom, startling you out of your roaming thoughts. You sat up in alarm when a small brigade of soldiers dressed in Day Court armor marched in, preceding a well-built, stoic-looking man with a grimace plastered on his face. 

You whipped around to look at Cassian in an uncharacteristic act of impropriety. Cassian looked just as lost as you were, but he blinked away the concern and sent you a reassuring nod as if he had everything under control. You watched his ruby siphons flicker and his fists clench as he clasped them together by his thighs, but you turned around. You had to turn around because you were not supposed to consult a guard about matters of your court. 

A quick glance at your father told you that he was surprised as well, but pleasantly. “Blaise,” your father greeted, clapping with the word. You hid another flinch. “I was not expecting you today.” 

“Clearly,” Blaise snarked, stopping before the thrones at the head of the room. “Your full court is not even here. Where is your heir?” 

Your father’s expression morphed into a glare. “Training,” he said. And then, “But that shouldn’t be what concerns you. Your bride is just beside me.” 

The world slowed, your thoughts and the movements of those around you sticky and heavy. You thought you might have opened your mouth but the action was delayed and it was hard to find the path to your muscles. Your chest caved. The light in the room became dim. 

Blaise smirked and trailed his gaze to your figure. He let his eyes rove from your feet up to your face, so unhurried, so lax. As if you were already something he owned and he could take all the time he wished. In a way, you guessed he could—it wasn’t as if you had anywhere else to be.

“Huh.” Blaise stuck his tongue against his cheek. “Come.” 

You blinked as the man stuck his hand out and waved his fingers in three harsh motions, beckoning you to him as if you were a dog. 

It felt like you’d been doused in ice water as onlookers watched you expectantly. Rhys had told you he was buying more time. Cassian had told you. Azriel sent shadows to your room and you took them as signs of something. But before you stood your betrothed and behind you stood Cassian and there was nothing to be done. 

You looked over to your father. 

“This is Blaise. He is a duke in Day. You shall be married. Go to him,” he commanded, nodding towards the stern brow in the center of the throne room.

“Father—” 

“Go to him.” 

You rose. Everything fell off its axis, a rush of lightheadedness making you lose your balance and lean back to grip the arm of the throne. A steady hand on your elbow grounded you. You didn’t even need to turn to know it was Cassian, but you did, anyway. 

Hazel eyes bore back into yours, devastation and determination mingling in the hues. Something dropped in your stomach and something else made you tear your gaze away and stare at your fate head-on. Cassian’s fingers lingered. They pulled away when you fully righted yourself. 

“Do you give me an ill bride, High Lord?” Blaise accused with a mean raise of his brow. 

“Of course not. Do not insult me.” No further explanation. 

You passed your tongue across your drying lips and took the steps down to meet Blaise, the man instantly snatching your hand and raising it above your head. He walked around you, inspecting you as if you were something to be appraised before buying, and nodded after completing the circle. Then, to set your stomach rolling, he swooped down and pressed his mouth to your ear. You heard a rushed step behind you, but the sound was drowned out by hot breath and whispers. 

“You’ll do nicely, given that you’re house-trained. Virgin?” 

You pushed back on his armored chest to gain some distance and Blaise cackled, knocking his head back in delight. 

“A bit skittish, but that’s fine. You said she’ll be used to Day? Definitely not staying here.” 

Your father hummed, taking a bored sip from his chalice. “She’s spent time in Day. Her mother hails from the court.” 

The rest of the conversation was lost to buzzing. 

~~

Cassian was wrought with panic. 

He had already opened his mind and shared the information with Rhys, but Rhys was still honing his daemati abilities and Cassian had no idea if his brother even got the information. 

He hid his panic behind a stone wall of neutrality and malice as he walked you back to your room, cataloging the way you took even steps and stared blankly at the walls in front of you. His facade was breaking down with each step you took; you seemed to be escaping into yourself and Cassian was becoming increasingly worried. 

Part of not being able to practice and control your magic came the dangers of it overtaking you. No one was sure if you harnessed daemati powers like your father and brother, but if you did and weren’t aware, you could get stuck. Cassian had witnessed Rhys’s struggles with that when he was first learning to control his magic and emotions were high. 

The moment your bedroom door clicked shut, Cassian’s hands were on your face. 

“Y/n? Hey, look at me,” he urged, tucking his wings into his back because maybe the light from your windows would help somehow.

When you didn’t look, a faraway haze to your eyes, he shook you, rattling your head in desperation. You should be screaming, crying, begging him to let you leave after what you just discovered. And, instead, you were blank. 

His next demands were stern. “Y/n, I can’t get Rhys here. You need to snap out of this. I don’t know how to help you.” 

You breathed a little deeper, but no change. 

“Fuck.” Cassian looked around the room, his head whipping back and forth as he searched for anything that could help. For Rhys, it was easier to develop skills to get him out of this state because he had been expecting it. For you, there was no prep, no warning.

Cassian turned back to you, his heart pounding out of his chest. If he couldn’t get you out of this before your father noticed—

He saw your eyes shift and something clicked. 

You were staring intently at the red siphon gleaming on Cassian’s chest, blinking quicker the longer you stared. 

“This helping?” Cassian murmured, yanking the siphon from his chest without care to hold it up to your eye level. “Okay, we’ll work with that.” You blinked even more with the tone of his voice and Cassian took that as motivation. “Keep working yourself out of this, sweetheart. You do this and I’ll teach you how to use a blade. Haven’t you been asking? Dumb question—you’ve been asking since we were twenty but—”

Cassian cut off his rambling when the first few tears fell down your cheeks. He watched each as they fell, wiping them away with his thumbs as he waited. And waited. And then you choked out a sob, and as much as he hated the sound, relief flooded through him at your state of consciousness. 

“You—you said there was more time,” you stressed, stumbling over your tears. “Rhys… he told me there was more time.” 

Cassian shook his head as he spoke. “I know. I know, sweetheart, but we’ll figure it out, okay? Me, Rhys, and Az. We can—” 

“You can’t do anything,” you cried. Your breath was picking up. “No one has been able to do anything my entire life. Not my brother or you or even myself. I—Cassian, I was only born to do this. No one cares about anything else. You’re only here because my father willed you to be. Because it serves his agenda to have you guarding me.”

Cassian’s fingers buzzed as he wiped more and more tears from your face. He kept opening his mouth to say something, anything, but it didn’t matter. Nothing would make up for this. 

“I—I can’t. I can’t be married to that man. Being locked in here was bad enough. Being coddled and prepped for my entire life was enough. I’m not a princess, Cassian. I’ve never wanted to… and now I…” 

You were hyperventilating now, raucous inhales colliding with heavy, painful exhales. You dropped to your hands and knees and Cassian followed suit but with the sole purpose of propping you up and placing a steady hand on your stomach. You fought him, desperate to claw at the ground and escape the world, but Cassian wouldn’t have it. 

“I need you to breathe,” Cassian requested, his words firm but soft. “I need you to focus on how I’m touching you and I need you to breathe into my hand.” 

He’d done this before, it was familiar. 

You used to get panic attacks anytime your father forced you to stay at the Palace for a weekend to view one of the many horrors at the Court of Nightmares. Rhys helped, but it was Cassian who noticed the tells—the uneven breaths, the panic in your gaze. It was Cassian who felt pain himself each time your throat closed. 

You shook your head at Cassian’s demand, clawing at your chest. 

“Yes, y/n. Try. For me, please.” 

He could tell you were trying, even as you continued to shake your head until that ridiculous crown toppled onto the floor. You tugged at the shimmering black material on your chest and never broke eye contact with Cassian and you tried. 

Slowly, eventually, Cassian saw your chest stutter and your breath begin to even out. 

“That’s it,” he praised, rubbing his thumb along the boning of your dress. Your lashes fluttered until your eyes closed. “That’s it, baby,” he muttered, the endearment slipping past and getting lost in the air. 

You reached down and gripped Cassian’s wrist. “I’m okay now. I think I’m okay.” 

“You sure?” 

You nodded. “I mean, I’m not okay. But I can breathe and think.” 

“Those are accomplishments I guess.” 

“I don’t think this is part of your job description,” you joked, the small laugh that followed half-hearted and weak. 

Cassian smiled. “Did the other guards do it?” 

“I can’t say they did.” 

Cassian readjusted his position on the floor and shifted you to no longer sit on your knees. He brushed your hair back and fixed the neckline of your dress. 

“You scared me,” he admitted, still focused on adjusting the mess you’d made of yourself. 

“I’ve had panic attacks before.” 

“No, not that. You got stuck, I think. Like how Rhys would when he was first learning to use his daemati abilities.”

“Don’t tell my father.” The words were so quick from your mouth that Cassian shot up to look at you. “Don’t. I already have a difficult time with the court abilities and I don’t need him to—” 

“Y/n, I would never tell him,” Cassian interrupted, a furrow in his brow. “Why would you ever think I would do that to you.” 

You cast your gaze down. “Well, I don’t know. You’re in his employ—you have to report to him and be loyal. The other guards—” 

“I am not another guard.” 

“Well, I obviously know that. But I just wasn’t sure where that part of you started and my friend ended.” 

Cassian closed his eyes for a long, disappointed beat. 

It was pretty obvious that Cassian was in love with you—at least, it was pretty obvious to himself as of three weeks ago. The moment he saw you again after months away, all pretty and sequestered away and so happy to see him you were glowing, he knew he was a goner. There had been hints of it when he was growing up, but seeing you again made it hit him full force. 

Of course, you could never know, because as much as you said you weren’t and were adamantly against the title, you were a princess, and Cassian didn’t want to add more stress to the plethora of horrors in your life. 

Still, the realization of his feelings only made your questioning tone hurt that much more. 

“Y/n, look at me.” Eyes met in your bedroom. Cassian kept his hands in his lap and you had your fingers pressed to the ground. “My only goal is to keep you alive and happy. I frankly don’t give a shit about your father. Everything I do or have done has been to keep you safe. He isn’t safe, so I make sure to follow his orders because not doing so is dangerous for you. Rhys… Rhys has been keeping close tabs on the situation from the outside and informs me what I need to divulge or keep secret. Nothing has ever been done out of loyalty to your father.” 

You released your bottom lip from your teeth and Cassian watched your shoulders sag in relief. He was about to say more, but then you launched yourself into his chest and his arms were wrapping around you without him willing them to. He had to stop the two of you from lying flat on the floor, jutting an arm out to stabilize the hug before bringing it back around to rest in your hair.

“I thought I'd lost you for a little while there,” you admitted, your face buried in Cassian’s shoulder. 

Guilt ate at his heart. “I thought you said you understood why I was making you stay?” 

“I did,” you mumbled. “Or, I thought I did. I knew you wanted to keep me safe, but I thought you also wanted to please my father.” 

Cassian dragged you back from his chest, hands resting along your head and back. “I’m sorry it felt that way. I have only wanted to please your father for your benefit. I’m—we’re family, y/n—” and I love you, he wanted to add “—you’re my family.” 

You stared back at Cassian, tears still fresh in your eyes and on your face. “Can we leave now?” 

Another piece of Cassian crumbled, shattered. “We can’t. You can’t. Rhys is working on another way out of this but if you try to run right now you know your father will only come after you.” 

“What about the human lands?” you rushed out, hands on Cassian’s chest and so close to his heart. “Or I could go off-continent. I could learn to glamour myself and try. Cassian, I could try.” 

“Y/n, you just got lost in your own head and you have no idea what kind of powers you have beyond that. You have no fighting skills, no way to defend yourself. I know you’re capable, but you’ve had your every need catered since you were born. And your father would be after you. I don’t know if you’d survive.” 

Cassian watched you deflate as he spoke. He brushed his hand up from your back to run a soft touch along your jaw. “And I would come with you—if you ran. But your brother has his head up his ass and he’s going to need help when he becomes High Lord.”

You smiled some—a sad, dejected smile.

“We’re gonna figure this out, sweetheart, just like I told you.” He leaned forward until your foreheads touched. “You’re not going anywhere I can’t go.” 

“And what if none of you can do anything about it?” you whispered.

Cassian ignored the fear that threatened to cease him at the prospect. “Then I’m going to fight like hell until I can.”

[azrielsdove]

I had the idea late at night so idk if you don’t want to write that, i understand haha

Reader and azriel are mates and have been for a while, nesta and elain were made and feyre and rhys asked cassian and azriel to look after them. Reader was okay with it but elain showed her a different side then the others, where she is rude and is telling her az will be hers, reader tried to bring it up in private but no one believed her because elain is so nice in front of everyone. Elain starts to sit in readers place and stands next to az, so reader isn’t even going out anymore. Az has a lot of other missions as well and tells reader that he only loves her and elain means nothing to him, maybe elain overheard that. After a mission az gives rhys his reports and then fell asleep on the couch, elain lays down next to him but he is so out that he doesn’t even feel her, reader wants to see after az and sees that, when she is trying to leave, rhys finds her and she shows him everything that happened even the parts where elain was rude, reader then leaves for awhile to get away from everything and azriel just loses it. You could add more angst if you want but i would love for a happy end with az and reader maybe where is is also pregnant?

The Other Woman: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Spiraling thoughts

***

Elain Archeron was quickly becoming the bane of your existence.

You understood the she had gone through incomprehensible trauma along with her sister, and you understood why Rhys would appoint Azriel and Cassian to help them. You had no issue allowing your mate to help the poor girl come back to life, accepting her new fate. No, that was not the problem.

The problem was that she was a nasty, two-faced, bitch.

The first time it happened you were completely taken aback, shocked by the words that had come from the otherwise soft-spoken female.

“He’s going to be mine, you know.”

You had stilled your movements, turning slowly to see her peeking out from the library doors. “Excuse me?” You asked, certain you had misunderstood.

She gave a sneering smile. “Azriel. I’m going to make him mine.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that had burst from you. “Okay then,” you said, moving to continue walking. You made a note to bring it up to your mate later, warn him that Elain may have gotten too attached.

Unfortunately the following days had been hectic, Azriel was sent on a dangerous mission for Rhys. You hadn’t gotten a chance to speak to him, and with the state he came back in you had no interest in adding anything else to his plate.

It happened again a few days later.

“Why would he stay with you when i’m here?” She asked, looking you up and down.

You raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m sorry? What are you on about?”

She rolled her eyes. “Azriel, obviously. Why would he need you any longer? I’m certain I can satisfy him miles better than you can.”

“Mhm,” you mused, nodding at her wild claims. “Do you understand the mating bond?”

She made a noise of annoyance, crossing her arms in front of her. “I have a mate, and I can’t stand him. That ‘bond’ means nothing to me.”

“It means something to Az,” you said, staring her down. “What has he done that makes you think he’s interested?”

She gave a pretty smile, smoothing the skirts of her dress. “Feyre has Rhys, Nesta has Cassian. It only makes sense, does it not? Three sisters, three brothers. He’s smart enough to have already figured it out. The only thing standing in our way is you.”

You hummed at her delusions, turning to leave the room. “Have a nice night, Elain,” you said, acting as if she had just been talking about the weather. You refused to give her the satisfaction of upsetting you.

Some nights later you were sitting with Azriel as he caught up with his brothers, lost in thought while you sipped your wine. You heard a faint call of your name, turning to meet the concerned eyes of your husband. “Are you alright, my love?” He asked, scanning you over for anything amiss.

You smiled, shaking your head. “I’m fine, just thinking.”

“You’re thinking pretty hard there. Az was calling your name for ages,” Cassian laughed, but his eyes showed the same concern. You sighed, taking a bigger drink of your wine.

“I’ve just been dealing with something, that’s all,” you said, swirling the liquid in your glass nonchalantly. Azriel watched you closely, trying to read what was wrong.

“You can always tell us,” Rhys offered, tipping his glass your way.

You took a deep breath, looking down at your hands. “Have any of you ever had any issues with Elain?”

Three blank stares met yours.

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” you muttered into your wine.

“What kind of problems?” Azriel pressed, worry in his expression.

“She’s just been, a little….rude to me.”

Silence.

And then loud laughter.

“Elain?” Cassian gasped out, pounding on the table. “Quiet, docile, Elain? Are you sure you aren’t confusing her with Nesta?” You shot him a nasty look, Rhys’ own chuckle drawing your attention to him.

“How has she been rude?” He asked, not hiding the smile on his face.

You looked down at the ground, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. “Maybe i’m just reading into it. I thought she was jealous…that she was into Az.” You regretted even bringing the topic up as Cassian and Rhys broke out in more laughter.

“No way! Elain has a mate, remember? Why would she go after a married male?” You nodded at Cassian, acknowledging his words.

“Yea, i’m sure i’m just misunderstanding,” you mumbled, draining your glass in an instant. You stood, heading for the door.

“Aw now, we didn’t mean anything bad! It’s just such a shock that Elain would be trying to get Az!” Rhys called out behind you, trying to convince you to stay.

You looked back, eyes connecting with Azriel’s. “I’ll be up shortly,” he said, his unspoken words hanging in the air. He was not going to let his brothers get away with laughing at you. You gave him a small smile and continued out to your room, leaving him to deal with them.

***

Elain only grew worse after that. She started openly flirting with Azriel, laughing at anything he said and placing her hand playfully on his arm. He always pulled away from her, moving to stand by your side as a silent “Stop”.

She didn’t care.

Azriel spent the nights trying to convince you that Elain didn’t matter to him, that you were the only one for him. You wanted to believe him, needed to believe him, but the comments she made when no one else could hear were getting to you.

“You’re too ugly for him.”

“Don’t you think he would want someone younger? Are you even able to give him children at your ancient age?”

“I know he wants me. He looks at me when you aren’t paying attention.”

“You’re pathetic, you know. He deserves better. He deserves someone who can stand proudly at his side.”

Her words swam around your head, eating away at you. You were sinking down into yourself, drowning in self-doubt. What if she was right? What if Azriel really did deserve better?

You began spending more time locked away in your room, an attempt to avoid Elain’s nasty comments. You had no desire to see her throw herself at Azriel, and you didn’t think you could handle much more of her taunting. A rational part of you knew that this was ridiculous, your husband would never give her a second look. Another part of you was embarrassed that this young girl was so good at getting into your head, that she had rendered you a shell of yourself. The largest part of you, unfortunately, bought in to all she said and hid away in shame.

Azriel was getting progressively more worried about you.

“My love,” he murmured, stroking his hand through your hair as he held you close. “I have half a mind to tell Rhys to send her somewhere else. Why does she trouble you so?” He couldn’t understand how Elain had torn down his perfect wife, leaving this ghost in her place.

You buried your face farther into his chest, wishing you could just disappear. “I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

He sighed and held you tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You are the stars in the sky, the warmth of the sun, the cool breeze under my wings. Nothing, and no one, is comparable to you. Especially not Elain Archeron. You are all there is for me, you are my everything. My heart and my soul. She is nothing to me.”

Tears fell from your eyes and his words prompted you to look up, the love shining on his face washing over you. “I know, Az. I know it’s foolish to allow her to make me doubt us.” You ducked your head down, ashamed. “Though sometimes I still wonder if you should’ve been mated to someone more powerful.”

Azriel clicked his tongue at your age-old concern, a conversation the two of you had gone over many times. “You know as well as I do that that’s not true. You were the one cauldron-made for me. We were sworn to each other from the day of our creation. Do not ever forget that.” He slipped a hand under your chin, bringing you back up to look at him. He studied your face like it was a painting, like he needed to memorize everything he saw. His thumb came up and brushed away your tears as he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. “Elain will never be what you are.” He kissed you again and again, swallowing your fears with his adoration.

Neither of you noticed the form of the female standing outside the slightly open door.

***

Azriel was tired, shuffling through the house after yet another mission. He hated that he had been gone so often recently, especially with the issues you’ve been having with Elain. He was sick with worry over the whole situation, and was growing aggravated with Rhys’ lack of action. Even when Azriel had spoken to his brother himself, the High Lord still struggled to believe his quiet sister-in-law was being so horrible. Az even went to Feyre, who got upset that he would accuse her sister of such things.

He ran a hand over his face, making his way to the library to find you. He was disheartened when he opened the doors and found you weren’t there. He took a seat on one of the leather couches, deciding to just wait for you there. Azriel knew that you often came around this time to browse the books, and he was too tired to continue searching for you. He gave a gentle tug on the bond to alert you that he was home before tipping his head back and closing his eyes.

***

Elain was positively delighted to find the sleeping form of the Shadowsinger. She looked around quickly to make sure no one saw as she gently closed the doors to the library behind her. She wasted no time in curling up next to him on the couch, resting her head in his lap. She slowly dragged his arm over her waist, a wicked smile coming across her face. She knew you would be coming to find him, and what a sight you would see when you did.

***

The second Cassian dropped you at the House of Wind you were practically running through the halls. When you had felt the tug that meant Azriel was back, you demanded Cass bring you home in the middle of lunch. He grumbled about not being done as you packaged the food up for him, pulling him from the little restaurant. You were in much better spirits today, Elain hadn’t approached you in days. When Cass suggested going down to Velaris to eat you had jumped at the opportunity, excited to be in the happy bustle of people who lived there.

You slid to a stop in front of the library, one of his shadows twisting around your legs. “Hello,” you cooed, a smile on your face. The shadow started moving faster, almost as if it were upset. Worry took over your heart then, concern that Azriel had gotten hurt.

You threw open the library doors and stopped dead in your tracks. There, on the couch, was Azriel. Uninjured, asleep.

And curled up on his lap was Elain.

You stood there in pure horror, not noticing Cassian coming up behind you. “What?” He said, taking in the sight in front of you. You didn’t realize you were shaking in rage until he put his hands on your arms, trying to pull you away.

“Get off of me,” you ground out, ripping your arms out of his grasp. Cassian called your name, trying to stop the explosion that was about to happen. Your vision was red, the anger and pain of seeing the two of them cuddled up like lovers too much to handle. “I’m going to kill them.”

“You will not,” came a powerful voice, Rhys stepping in front of you. “My office. Now.” You wanted to spit at his feet and tell him to shove off, but one look at his eyes told you that wouldn’t end well. You huffed, allowing him to lead you away.

Unnoticed on the couch, Elain smiled.

***

“Why would you stop me?” You practically yelled, pacing back and forth in front of Rhys.

“You can’t murder my brother and sister-in-law in their sleep.” He said, as if this was a regular occurrence.

“That filthy bitch,” you swore, turning to face Rhys head on. “I tried to tell you who she truly was, and no one listened.” You glared at him, crossing your arms in front of you.

“Elain has never showed signs of what you spoke of. As horrible as it is, could it be that Azriel was a part of this?” He regretted the words before he was even done saying them.

“Why do you refuse to believe that she could be playing a dirty game behind your back? Behind everyone’s back? I had no reason to make up lies about her, Rhysand,” you spat out, power crackling at your fingertips.

He stood, coming to stand by your side. He pulled your hands into his, looking down at your glowing fingertips. “Show me,” he said, voice hardly above a whisper. You faltered, power fading away. You were embarrassed to let him see how badly she had affected you, but you knew he would not believe you otherwise.

“Okay,” you whispered, looking up into his eyes. You felt the strange sensation of Rhys entering your mind, pulling through all your memories with Elain. He listened to all the nasty things she said when no one else could hear, and felt the pain she caused you. When he was done he looked ashamed of himself, upset that he had brushed you off.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said, pulling his hands from yours. “I should have trusted you.”

You nodded. “Yea, you should have.” Rhys looked at the ground, his hands in his pockets. “I want to go away for a while. Anywhere. I can’t stand to be around her any longer, and I certainly have no interest in speaking to him.” You couldn’t even say your mates name, the hurt cutting too deep in your chest.

“As you wish,” Rhys said, “I’ll meet you on the balcony in an hour.”

***

Azriel woke with a start. Something was very, very wrong. Starting with the female asleep next to him.

He didn’t stop himself from jumping up, nearly knocking her to the floor. Not that he cared. “What are you doing?!” He hissed between his teeth, angry that she would pull a stunt like this.

Elain smiled up at him prettily, stretching as if she had been asleep for hours. “I was just sleeping, Azriel.” He hated the way she spoke his name, as if it were a sensual demand. “Your sweet little mate didn’t come to you, did she?” She fake pouted, tucking a hand under her chin.

Azriel’s eyes flared, his shadows whipping through the room. He stepped closer to her, hauling her to her feet with a strong grip on her arm. “This game you’re playing is done. Speak to me or my wife again, and I will make sure it’s the last thing you do.” He couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty at the fear in her eyes as he strode from the room, searching for you.

***

Rhys had taken you out to the cabin at your request. You wanted to be somewhere alone, but safe. “What should I tell him?” He asked as he headed to leave.

“Tell him to figure out what he wants before it’s too late.” Rhys nodded, looking you over once more. “If you need anything, i’m just a call away,” he quipped, tapping the side of his head before winnowing out of sight.

You sighed, sinking down into the plush sofa in front of the fireplace. You stared into the burning flames for what felt like hours, lost in your own mind. Azriel wouldn’t have lied to you, would he? Your mate has always been an honest male, had always loved you with everything he had. You found it hard to believe that he was messing around with Elain behind your back, regardless of what you saw. You knew how nasty she could be, and wouldn’t put it past her to pull something like this.

At the same time, the image of his arm draped lovingly around her was burned into your brain. You saw it over and over again, how well they complemented each other. The strong, dark Shadowsinger and the quiet, warm Archeron sister. Had the cauldron made a mistake? You couldn’t help but remember her words, ‘three brothers and three sisters.’ You and Azriel were mated decades before she was born, it could be plausible that the cauldron had made a mistake.

Yet the cauldron had also given Elain her own mate. It wouldn’t mess up twice, would it? Unless the cauldron had meant for you and Lucien to be mated, and Elain with Azriel. Perhaps something got crossed over and the pairings were mixed. Could all your years of joy and love with Azriel be wrong? You never felt anything was awry when you were with him, always feeling like you were truly meant to be.

You sighed and wrapped a blanket tight around you, willing it to keep away the lonely cold. You couldn’t imagine a life without Azriel by your side, and you didn’t know what you would do if that’s what he wanted.

***

“Where is she?!” Azriel bellowed through the halls of the House, shadows infiltrating every room and hallway. Rhys and Cass stood in front of him, trying to calm their brother. “I know you know! What kind of a game are you playing, hiding my own mate from me?!” He was angrier than he had ever been, angry at himself, at Elain, at Rhys. How could he have let Elain play him like that?

“I won’t tell you anything until you’ve calmed down,” Rhys stated, power rising to match Azriel’s.

“Calmed down? You expect me to calm down when that witch has been ruining my mates life, and now she’s disappeared and no one will tell me where she went?!” Azriel was seething, pacing angrily in the hall.

“I’d watch how you speak about my sister, Azriel.” He whirled around to see Feyre, eyes cool as she took in his agitated form.

“Your sister is a disgusting, selfish, spoiled brat! Someone tell me where my mate is before I tear this city apart!” He didn’t care that he was yelling at his High Lady, at his High Lord and brother. All he could see was red, and he was half a second away from leaving the House and looking for her on his own.

“Enough, Azriel,” Rhys commanded, bringing attention back to him. “Feyre, unfortunately it does seem true that Elain has been acting…undesirably.” There was a silence for a moment, her eyes widening as he shared the memories you showed him.

“Oh, Az,” she soothed, taking a step closer and reaching a hand out for him.

“Don’t touch me!” He shouted, pulling back from her. “I need to know where she is. I have to explain that what she saw was a dirty trick.” The anger was fading from his voice, despair taking over. What if you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore? He wouldn’t be able to handle losing you over this.

“Az,” Rhys started, voice calm. “She asked to go away. You’re going to have to give her time to process what has happened.” He took a step towards his brother. “I am sorry I didn’t listen before. She showed me her memories, of everything Elain had said. She will be dealt with, I promise you. I should have never let it get this bad.”

Azriel knew it wasn’t entirely his fault, but that didn’t stop him from lashing out. “Yea, you should’ve listened. When has she ever lied to you, Rhysand?” He shook his head. “Let me know if she contacts you,” was the last thing he said before storming off towards your shared room.

***

Some time had passed since you left Velaris, and the loneliness was threatening to overtake you. You had felt some tugs on the bond once Azriel realized you were gone, and had shut him out. You didn’t need him bothering you as you tried to figure out what to do. After pondering for days, you still had no idea what was true or not. You felt like you were losing your grip on reality, that you were sinking down into a pit of your own creation. You’d hardly moved from the couch since you arrived, staring into the endless flames.

A knock at the door startled you, but you no longer had the energy to truly care. You turned your head slowly to see Rhys walk in, eyes full of worry. “Have you moved at all?” He asked, taking in that the food he had left was untouched.

You shrugged.

Rhys came and sat next to you on the couch, looking you over. “He’s losing it without you,” he said softly, unsure what kind of mental state you were in.

Your eyes moved from the fire to him, stare blank. “I think you should come home. Being out here alone isn’t doing you any good. You’re withering away to nothing.”

Good. You’d rather disappear than live with the idea of Azriel and Elain. Rhys seemed to read this on your face, gingerly grabbing one of your hands in his own. “She’s been removed from the House. She’s not allowed out without Feyre or myself with her. She won’t hurt you anymore.”

You blinked. “What does Azriel think?” You asked, voice hoarse from no use.

“Az couldn’t care less about her. He’s worried about you.” There was a pleading in his eyes, begging you to come back with him.

“What if she was supposed to be cauldron-made for him?” Your voice was quiet, broken. You could feel the pain of your words as they hit Rhys, the shame of having ignored your attempts at warning him how Elain truly was.

“She isn’t. Even if you and Azriel were not mates, I have never met two people more suited for each other than you. It is clear that the love you hold is a special thing, something most won’t ever experience.” He tugs your hand closer. “Please. Come home.”

You didn’t know Rhys to lie to you, and your heart longed for Azriel. You couldn’t hide from this forever, regardless of how it turned out. “Okay,” you said, allowing him to pull you to your feet and winnow you back to Velaris.

***

Azriel was waiting when Rhys flew you back to the House, eyes wide as he took in the state of you. When Rhys set you down you immediately stumbled, head light from the lack of eating and sleeping. Azriel caught you before you could hit the ground, an alarmed gaze shooting to Rhys. “We will talk later,” he said, “take her to your room. I’ll send for Madja to check her over soon.”

Azriel nodded his thanks and carried you to your room, tucking you into the bed. You sunk into the familiar smell of him, trying to force the spinning in your head to disappear. “My love,” Azriel murmured, brushing hair out of your face. “What have I done?”

You opened your eyes and took him in. Truthfully, he didn’t look much better than you. There were deep shadows under his eyes, and his face was unusually gaunt. The stress of this situation had clearly taken its toll on the both of you.

“Are you in love with her?” You asked, tears pricking at the back of your eyes.

Azriel looked at you as if you had grown two heads.

“I’m sorry? In love with Elain? In hate with her is more like it.” You couldn’t deny the acid that dripped from his words, the anger the permeated the room.

“I saw you two. Asleep in the library.”

He scoffed. “I fell asleep waiting for you. She took it upon herself to take advantage of the situation.” He looked down at his hands, silver lining his eyes. “I never should have let it go this far.”

You sat up slowly, reaching out for him. Azriel moved quickly, gently laying you back down as he laid beside you. “Easy, my love. Your body is weak.” You hadn’t realized how bad you had gotten during your time at the cabin, suddenly feeling dizzy and sick.

“I’m so sorry, Az. I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t handle it,” you sobbed, not even noticing the tears that had started falling.

“No, no. Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong. I should’ve fought harder against her, tried harder to get Rhys to listen.” He cupped your cheek, running his thumb through your tears. You curled into his touch, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest.

You cried until your head was pounding, Azriel whispering sweet nothings into your ears. “I love you. Only you.” Your tears slowly stopped, until you felt confident enough to look up at him.

“I love you. I shouldn’t have doubted you,” you said, leaning up to kiss him.

A knock sounded at the door. Azriel jumped up to get it, letting Madja into the room. She began checking you over, tsking at the state of you. “I’ll give you something for dehydration, and you’ll need to start introducing food again. Start with soup, and work your way up. I have a sleep aid as well, I recommend you take it promptly.” She ran her hands over your arms and legs, ensuring all your bones were still in good shape. She did the same over your head, shoulders, and chest.

“Your heart sounds good, and your lungs are working well. You were lucky the High Lord came when he did, much more of letting yourself wither away and you’d have a significantly harder recovery ahead of you,” she chided, continuing her check of your body. Her hands swept over your abdomen before she paused, bringing them back up. “Ah,” she murmured, Azriel immediately on guard.

“What is it? Is something wrong?” He asked, gripping your hand a tad too tightly.

Madja shook her head. “No, nothing is wrong.” She looked up at you and cocked her head. “You are a lucky girl, you know. Not many pregnant fae could have refused food and drink for that long and still kept a reasonably healthy body and fetus.”

You stared at her.

She stared back.

Azriel stared at the both of you.

“What?” You finally asked, breaking the silence that had settled over the room.

She smiled, pressing her hands against your abdomen again. “A baby. Healthy, winged, i’d say 12 or so weeks along?” 12 weeks? You did the math in your head, realizing with a start that around 12 weeks ago Elain started terrorizing you. That shortly after that her words began affecting you worse and worse, that you couldn’t understand why she was able to make you so upset.

Now you knew.

“A baby,” Azriel whispered, looking at you. Madja took that as her cue to leave, placing the medicine on your nightstand and slipping from the room. He pulled you into his arms, inhaling your scent deeply. Sure enough, there it was. A lighter, fresh scent hidden under yours. He must have missed it throughout the recent stress and his back-to-back missions.

“A baby,” you whispered back, more tears threatening to fall. “Our baby.”

You saw tears of his own in Azriel’s eyes as he leaned down to kiss you, whispering “baby” in between each kiss.

The ordeal with Elain behind you, you allowed yourself to slip off into sleep, dreams of your future with Azriel and your child playing in your mind.

***

I’m so sorry this took so long for me to finish! I got into a bit of a writing rut, but I hope this was what you wanted. Thank you so much for your request! <3

[selineram3421]

*does some more research* Alright.

Courting Pursuit

Prologue

Alastor X Deer Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ mention of cannibalism (we all know who), I'm assuming Alastor is a marsh deer, reader is a mule deer, spanish translated, gender neutral (gn) reader, cartel mention, flustered Alastor, italics=thoughts ⚠

Alastor was the only deer in Hell that anybody knew of.

If there was another buck, they wouldn't see them again. Most can make the correct assumption on why that is. The cannibalistic Overlord also dabbled in other kinds of meat as well but was best known for eating deer.

It wasn't until a new guest entered the hotel that he saw another like him.

Deer ears, tail, and hooves. The new guest was a little more of a bigger build, and from the shape of their tail and ears they were a mule deer.

They were slightly taller than him.

Angel dubbed them the gentle giant, and for the most part everyone agreed.

"Why are you calling them that?", Husk asked.

"Do you see how big they are? And their poor shirt. Their chest practically bursting out of it, those buttons are fighting for their life.", the spider demon replied.

It annoyed him more than he'd like to admit.

Another deer in his vicinity was dangerous. He wanted to rip them to shreds but of course he couldn't do that with them being a guest and all. He would never be forgiven if he did that.

What was odd was their control over their instincts.

Mule deer were known to be quite aggressive.

He found out where you had died from over hearing your conversation with the Princess and her partner.

"Me persiguió el cártel en una zona de caza de ciervos. No sé por qué me perseguían, pero conseguí matar a unos cuantos antes de encontrar mi final.", you had said. (I was chased by the cartel in a deer hunting area. I don't know why they were chasing me, but I managed to kill a few before meeting my end.)

"Vaggie? I don't know what they are saying..", Charlie looked over to the white haired woman.

"They were killed by the cartel but they don't know why.", Vaggie translated. "I wouldn't be surprised if they had a family member involved with someone important in Mexico."

In all honesty, he's never tried to start a conversation with you.

There were times that you had tried but ended up pulled away or had wrong timing.

It wasn't until you were sent to run an errand with him outside of the hotel. Everyone being too busy with other things or just not wanting to be around him.

"Don't do anything to them!", Vaggie said with a stern frown.

"I won't.", he rolled his eyes. "Though, I hope you don't mind that I'll take a quick stop by Rosie's."

"They are not to be eaten, do you understand?", she rephrased.

"Of course.", he waved off her concerns.

"Vamos?", you walked over, looking down to meet his eyes. (Let's go?)

"Follow me and don't lag behind! I won't look for you if you get lost.", he said and started to make his way towards the city.

Vaggie had sighed and spoke to you in spanish, it didn't take long for you to catch up.

You hadn't spoken a word for the entire trip. Only taking glances at him at times before looking forward.

It wasn't until you both arrived at Rosie's that you had made a sound.

"Qué lugar más bonito." (What a beautiful place.)

"Alastor!", Rosie greeted and pulled him into a hug. "Glad you paid a visit, I have just the gossip for you."

Then she notice the deer behind him.

"Oh? And who is this deer?", Rosie looked them up and down. "I'm surprised you haven't eaten this meal."

"I can't allow a guest at the hotel to be eaten.", he replied.

"Well? Introduce us.", she gestured for him to get on with it.

He called your name and you turned, noticing the new person.

"Ah. Perdóneme por no fijarme en usted, señora.", you bowed your head a bit. (Ah. Forgive me for not noticing you ma'am.)

"Oh, spanish speaking?"

"This is our newest hotel guest.", he said your name again before gesturing to Rosie, who began to bow. "This is Rosie."

Alastor didn't really care if you understood him, but he didn't know you were learning bits of English with Vaggie and Charlie.

"Hello beautiful, scary woman.", you said with a slightly thick accent.

"Ahahaha!", the cannibalistic woman laughs. "Oh I like this one, don't you take a bite Alastor!"

His friend teased him about how he should flatter her more often and pinched the mule deer's cheek while offering limbs for them to eat.

It took a while before Rosie finally decided to let them leave.

When arriving at the hotel, Alastor was annoyed to find pesky demons trying to trash the entrance.

"Do they not understand that I protect the hotel?", he chuckled darkly before transforming into his larger form.

He tore through the intruders with a laugh, letting them run a few feet away before dragging them back to rip their limbs. Blood and guts splattered on the ground, some hitting the walls and windows of the hotel.

When finishing up, he noticed you were still in the same spot, slightly covered in blood that managed to reach you.

"Apologies for the mess.", he walked over and offered his handkerchief. "To clean yourself up."

You nodded and did your best to get the blood off but missed a few speckles on your face.

With a roll of his eyes, Alastor took the cloth and gestured for you to lean closer. "Come now, you're not getting everything."

You smiled and leaned down a bit to kiss his forehead.

He froze, a screeching pop of static coming from his surprise.

"Qué ciervo más guapo.", you spoke softly as you caressed the side of his face before heading back inside the hotel. (What a handsome deer.)

The Radio Demon stood there for a while before he could collect his thoughts.

What...just happened?

I thought Alastor with a big?/tall? significant other was cute.

~Seline, the person.

Part 1

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @nonetheartist @gallantys @i-3at-kidz @luxky-aish @+?

ML II Alastor🎙 | CP ChL🦌

[fetusgooseandjuice]

Promise

Pairing(s): Knight!Natasha Romanoff x Princess!Reader

Summary: The first time you patch up an injured Natasha.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Descriptions of wounds | Terribly written medical talk | Mentions of violence and knives

Authors Note: This is another mini-oneshot to my fic “Soulmates”. I’d recommend reading that one before this for context to be able to grasp the storyline!

Mini-oneshots: Forever

(Takes place around 17 years old)

You entered the castle with your mother at your side. You had just finished sitting in on a meeting that your parents had attended with some of neighboring kingdoms.

With you finally becoming of age to understand at least the majority of what they were discussing, your mother and father wanted you to get some first hand experience at helping to make important decisions.

As you talked you rounded the corner to the hallway that held the library where you'd planned to get in some studying, but the words coming out of your mother's mouth had faded to the back of your mind once you saw Yelena rushing towards you.

She looked frantic, but you noticed how she toned it down to a more presentable manner after laying eyes on the Queen beside you.

Your eyebrows furrowed seeing her approach you as though she were on a mission, and your mother had now stopped talking realizing that you were no longer paying attention.

"Hey, Yelena. Is everything okay?" you greeted the blonde.

Yelena looked between the two of you before answering, "Yeah. Yeah, I just needed you for...something...real quick."

Your mother cleared her throat to get your attention, "I'm going to go find your father. Don't forget to look over the information from today, okay honey?"

"Of course." you nodded your head in understanding, "I'll see you later." you said before she excused herself.

You turned back to the blonde with a now more concerned look, "What's going on? What's wrong?" you asked.

She almost struggled to find an answer before responding, "I think it's better for you to just see for yourself..." Yelena trailed off as she grabbed your wrist into her hand and led you through the hallways.

The two of you ended up in front of your bedroom door which confused you even more as she pulled you inside and quickly shut the door behind you, but your heart dropped at the sight in front of you when you turned around.

Natasha was sat on your bed looking as if she'd just been in a fight.

A bad one at that.

Her face was scuffed with dirt, her knuckles were bloodied and bruised, but that wasn't even the worst of it. The worst part was the area on her shoulder that her hand was clutching to stop it from bleeding, but you could see it clearly wasn't doing a very good job.

"I tried to take her to the infirmary, but she wouldn't go. She told me to bring her to you, but one of the maids said that you weren't here so I had to go find you." Yelena explained.

"Oh my god, Nat. What happened?" you asked as you rushed to your girlfriend’s side.

Your eyes zeroed in on the open wound on her shoulder. Her breath hitched when you moved her hand out of the way to get a better look. You muttered an apology before putting her hand back and quickly grabbing a hand towel from your closet.

"You should see the other guys." the redhead chuckled but her smile was replaced with a wince when you moved her hand again to use the towel to apply pressure instead.

Natasha knew you didn't find her joke very funny based on the glare you sent her way.

"She got into a fight with some thieves down at the docks. I told her it wasn't a good idea, but she wouldn't listen and now here we are." Yelena said.

This time it was Natasha's turn to glare at her sister for ratting her out, but Yelena didn't pay any mind to the look she was given.

"Jesus christ," you mumbled. "And you decided you wanted to bleed out on my bed right now instead of in the infirmary with a doctor because?"

The redhead winced again when you shifted to be able to inspect the rest of her body for any other injuries, "I thought you would be able to treat it. Didn't your parents make you take first aid lessons from the doctor a few years ago? You know, for your studies?"

"Yes, but the doctor at the infirmary is a professional." you counteracted. "They would do a much better job than I would at making sure this doesn't get infected."

"Please, Y/n." Natasha said, "I could get in so much trouble if my commander found out I was getting into fights before I even finished my training."

You sighed as you thought for a moment. She's obviously set on not going to the doctor, and you have to do something soon to stop it from getting worse so you really had no choice.

As you stood up from the bed the knights eyes followed you, "Take your top off and keep putting pressure on this." you told her before making your way to your bathroom.

Yelena took this as her cue to leave, "I'm gonna go now. I'll come back to check on you in a bit." she said and Natasha nodded, watching her slip through the door and shut it behind her.

After a little struggle the redhead managed to eventually pull her shirt over her head, leaving her in a tank top.

When you returned a moment later you had a clean towel and a first aid kit in hand. You sat back down next to her and removed the dirty towel to begin cleaning her wound.

It wasn’t as bad as it had looked before when you finally got the bleeding to stop. Either way seeing her like this scared you more than you’d let on.

You worked in silence for a while. The only sounds filling the room being the occasional winces and grunts from Natasha when the pain hurts a little more. Each time you mumbled a quick "sorry" before continuing.

"Are you mad at me?" Natasha spoke into the quiet air.

You didn't answer right away which just worried her even more, but when you did it wasn't the answer she was expecting.

"No," you responded, "I'm not mad at you. You just scared me, I mean what were you even thinking?"

“I don’t know,” the redhead said, “I don’t even know if I was thinking. I just…reacted.”

Natasha watched your concentrated face. Sometimes she couldn't help but just stare at it. At this point she had every detail of it memorized like the back of her hand. Which wasn't very helpful when she was currently being scolded by you.

"Did you even have any of your equipment when you decided to pick a fight with them?" you asked.

The young knight shook her head, "No, but I couldn't just watch it happen. There were four of them and one of them had a knife. I had to do something or else people might’ve gotten hurt.”

“People did get hurt, Natasha. You got hurt.”

Natasha hung her head in defeat at your words. “I know.” she said. “I know and I’m sorry for putting you through this. You shouldn’t have to deal with the consequences of my actions. It’s not fair to you.”

You sighed and put down the supplies you were using so you could finally look at her. She held a guilty expression and it made you feel bad for getting upset with her. Your hand came up to her face in an attempt to wipe away some of the dirt with your thumb and fix her messy hair.

“Nat, I get that you just wanted to do the right thing. That’s one of the things I love most about you.” you spoke softly and she gave you a small smile, “I just worry so much. This could’ve been so much worse than some bruises and a knife wound.”

“I got lucky, I know.” she admitted. “Yelena was right I should’ve listened to her and it was stupid of me not to.”

Your gaze went back and forth between both of her eyes. You could’ve gotten lost in her vibrant green orbs if you didn’t still have to finish patching her up before someone came looking for you.

“Just promise me that you’ll be more careful going forward. I don’t want this to ever happen again because I love you too much to be able to handle it if it did.”

Natasha quickly nodded her head, “I promise, and I love you too.”

You leaned in to connect your lips in a soft kiss, needing a reminder that she was here with you and safe.

The redhead obviously didn’t want you to pull away with the way she chased after your lips when you pulled back. You had to press your hand against her chest in order to keep a distance between the two of you.

“As much as I would love to keep going, I think you might need a few stitches to help that shoulder heal.” you said.

Natasha just groaned. She wasn’t even sure if the dissatisfaction she felt was because she had to go through the pain of getting stitches, or because you broke the kiss. The redhead came to the conclusion that it was because of both.

The noise made you giggle and you began sifting through the first aid kit for a needle and some thread. “I’ve only ever practiced this using fruits, so bear with me. I still think you should’ve gone to the doctor instead.”

She just shrugged her uninjured shoulder, “Why would I when I have my own personal nurse right here. And she’s cute too.” Natasha smirked.

You playfully rolled your eyes at that last comment, “Don’t get too ahead of yourself there. I still have to take a look at those knuckles and clean your face up.”

“What? I thought you liked my face.” she pouted.

“You know I do, but I don’t like the fact that it looks as if someone just dragged you through the dirt.”

Natasha scoffed, “For the record, I won, of course. They were after that bakery you love by the boats. The owner said that my next order would be on the house as a thanks for my help, so I think you should be thanking me.” she spoke proudly.

You just stared at your girlfriend in disbelief. As much as you didn’t understand how she was able to laugh and joke about the situation, you appreciated it because it took your mind off of the bad thoughts that clouded your mind.

It reminded you that your Natasha was still there and you couldn’t be more grateful for her.

“Instead of thinking about that you should be figuring out how you’re going to hide this from your parents when they come back from their trip.”

~ end ~