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#I wonder if I'll ever dare to post this
chaosintheavenue · 1 year
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Oookay, so. I've finally got over my inexplicable embarrassment, accepted that this is my house, and so it's time for...
Full Trin Profile
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(going to break up the different sections with random Trin photos, because a) it prevents massive text wall, and b) I'll take any excuse to make people Look At Her)
Basic introduction
Name: Trinity Elloise Gant
Nicknames: Trin (in almost all circumstances), Trini (to specific individuals who knew her when she was younger)
Age varies because my timeline is long and convoluted enough to span 4-5 generations. Born in 2275. In game in 76, she's in her early twenties
Birthday: 16th July
Gender: Cis female (I think?)
Orientation: Aroace and firmly not interested in anything at all relationship-wise. She's a dedicated single pringle
Backstory (short version): Trin is the child of one Cipher parent and one parent raised in the California BoS. She spent time living among both of these factions whilst growing up, and also spent a lot of time on the road travelling with her family. She never felt that she truly fitted in with either of the two groups that raised her (the Brotherhood side would think of her as 'the Cipher kid', and vice versa), and so as soon as she was deemed old enough to travel independently, she headed out as far as she dared away from all links to her past and tried to make a fresh start for herself in West Virginia. After living there for around six months to a year, she was exposed to the Scorched Plague juuust before she became aware of the Nuka Cola vaccine. Whoops
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Appearance
General: She's somewhere around 5'6-5'8, and kind of similar to JJ in overall build (which is Long with disproportionately long legs- though hers aren't as glaringly out of proportion as his). Pale AF
Hair: Black and naturally straight and thin. For most of her life, she's just kept it cut uniformly short and not made any special attempts to style it. Recently in game she allowed Beckett to shave half of her head and currently enjoys the change
Eyes: Dark brown. Once had her sclera turn yellow thanks to Scorchery
Distinguishing marks: She has both earlobes and one nostril pierced, but doesn't always wear jewelry there. Has a large scar across her cheekbones, also thanks to Scorchery
Clothing style: Conflicting styles, often colourful, and overall pretty confused-looking. She just wears what she likes the look of, with zero damns given. Doesn't intentionally dress to stand out, but some of her clothing choices end up having that effect
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Fallout stats
S3 P7 E3 C4 I9 A8 L6
NV-style skills: Energy Weapons, Repair, Science, Survival
Full perk card setup in 76 (note: a lot of what's here is not canon for her):
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A fully canon-compatible version of her would also need to have a perk/trait for her particular flavour of Scorchedness. Possible effects would include Scorched sometimes not being hostile towards her (especially if it's only one or two in an area rather than a big group), some level of resistance to radiation and toxins, and increases in AP, running speed, and maybe aggression (if she was a companion, which is the lens I planned this perk/trait out through) in the Cranberry Bog
Weapon preference: Electrified, energy or otherwise mechanical melee weapons. Examples she's used are shocking batons, shishkebabs, drills, and a plasma cutter that was her only weapon for about 50 levels of gameplay
Companions: Well, 76 doesn't exactly have that mechanic, but I consider Sofia, Beckett and Kayli (OC CAMP ally who's her childhood friend from Lost Hills) to occasionally accompany her on adventures. The closest thing she has to a true companion in the Fallout sense would be her cat, Juliet
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Views on factions
Brotherhood of Steel: Her thoughts do vary from chapter to chapter, and there are definitley individuals within the BoS that she admires greatly, but in general, she's not a fan of their whole shebang. She was actually pleasantly surprised to be given the unique title of Knight-Errant in recognition of her other ties outside the Brotherhood, but she still never uses it outside of necessity
Ciphers: She has great respect for them and their dedication to their way of life, and feels like she'll never be good enough to be of much use or truly fit in with them. Almost intimidated by some individuals (*cough* Vari *cough*) in a very imposter syndrome-y way
Cult of the Mothman, Children of Atom: She's absolutely fascinated by these guys, but hasn't found them very approachable or open to questions...
Rust Eagles: Again, she finds them interesting, but there's a layer of suspicion as to their true intentions and long-term goals
Blue Ridge Caravan: No strong opinion on the company itself, but she's very intrigued by certain individuals. At one point, she was considering joining them as a caravan guard
Crater Raiders, Settlers: Oddly enough, her opinion on each is similar. She'll help them out when she runs into them and just sees them as people trying to get by. Nopes right on out of there whenever there's conflict between the two
Blood Eagles, Caesar's Legion, Enclave: Bad bad bad. 0/10. Avoid
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altruistic-meme · 1 year
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🌈
hi hi hi
🌈is there a fic that you worked really fucking hard on that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?
genuinely, i think most of my stories i have moments where i struggle and i always try to put my whole self into every word. and i think most of the time, it gets noticed when i put in that extra effort!
though if i had to say something, it would probably be about my AU, Parallels, which is currently kicking my ass. and ik it hasn't been posted yet, but when i do post Dare(d) then i need everyone to understand i have already written the beginning of that story like 4 times and i still don't think i like how it's coming out. so when you read it, if the beginning flows well and comes out good, please know i have spent months putting off writing that story specifically bc i cannot figure out how to actually start it.
writer ask game <3
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frostdayz · 2 months
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More than enemies
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Genre: Enemies to Lovers
aemond x reader (aemond uncle and y/n niece!!) (f! reader)
summary: Y/n is Rhaenyra's only daughter and at a young age she is betrothed to her uncle to keep the peace between the two families. Years pass without seeing each other, but when the day of the wedding arrives feelings are changed and emotions are spilled.
Note: Laptops on 3% so this was super rushed and tbh idk if i like it. Anyways this might be my last HOTD post for a while (I might be lying to myself)
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
My wedding day. I stand before a mirror, the silver and red gown draped elegantly over my form, my mother's house colors blending with those of House Targaryen. My heart races, not with excitement, but with apprehension.
Aemond Targaryen. My betrothed. My enemy. The boy I had loathed for as long as I could remember. Our union was meant to be a symbol of peace between our families, a bridge over troubled waters. But to me, it had always felt like a shackle.
I had not seen Aemond in years, not since we were children. He had been sent away to train, and I had remained in Dragonstone, under my mother's watchful eye. Now, as I prepare to meet him again, I wonder if he has changed. If I have changed.
The door creaks open, and my mother enters, her face soft with maternal concern. "Are you ready, my daughter?" she asks, her voice gentle.
I nod, though my heart is anything but steady. "As ready as I'll ever be, Mother."
She takes my hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "This union is important for the realm. But more than that, it is a chance for you to find happiness." She smiles at me.
Happiness. The word seems foreign in the context of my impending marriage to Aemond. But I nod again, forcing a smile. "I understand." I sigh.
With a final kiss on my forehead, she leads me to the great hall. The steps we leave behind sound out an echo that leads me to my new and unwanting future. The doors swing open, and I step inside, my eyes scanning the crowd until they land on him. Aemond. He stands tall, his silver hair gleaming, his eye patch adding an air of mystery. Our gazes lock, and for a moment, the world falls away.
He looks dare I say different? Stronger. More confident. And in his remaining eye, I see something I had not expected. Curiosity. Apprehension. Perhaps even a hint of regret. Regret for all the torment he gave me when I was a child. Or regret going through with this wedding and not running away while he had the chance?
Without my mind wanting to my feet start to walk me down the aisle, my mind races with memories of our childhood. The arguments, the insults, the constant competition. Does he still feel the same all these years later?
I reach the altar, and he takes my hand. His grip is firm, but not harsh. I look up at him, searching his face for any sign of the boy I had despised. Instead, I find a man who looks at me with wonder and uncertainty. Something I didn't expect to find, my eyes linger on his face confused with the feeling that's starting to stir inside my stomach.
The ceremony passes in a blur, words exchanged, vows made. And then, it is done. We are married. Bound together by duty and destiny.
Later, at the feast, I find a moment to escape the throng of well-wishers and slip into one of the halls in the keep, seeking comfort in the quiet lit hall. Moments later, I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around and find myself face-to-face with my now-new husband.
"May I join you?" he asks, his voice devoid of the arrogance I had once associated with him. He takes a few shy steps forward as if he is scared that I will reject him.
I give a small nod, and he steps beside me, his gaze fixed on me the whole time. For a while, we walk in silence, the tension between us palpable. Finally, he speaks.
"I never wanted this," he admits, his voice soft. "I never wanted to be bound by duty to someone who hated me." He stops his steps and looks away from my gaze.
"I never wanted it either," I reply, my own voice tinged with bitterness. "But here we are." I take a step forward so I am now standing right in front of him, he lifts his head to look at me, his expression earnest. "Perhaps... perhaps we were wrong about each other. Perhaps there is more to us than the hatred we clung to as children."
I look up at him towering over me, searching his face for any sign of deceit. But all I see is sincerity. "Do you really believe that?" My eyes softening
He nods, taking my hand in his and looking down fiddling with the rings on my hand. "I do. And I think... I know I would like to try. To see if we can be more than enemies."
My heart skips a beat at his words. Could it be possible? Could the years of animosity have been a mask for something deeper, something neither of us had been ready to acknowledge?
"I would like that too," I whisper, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. I take my hand out of his grasp and lift it up to graze his right cheek. I wouldn't in a million years think that I would be open to the thought of falling for the man I once hated.
He smiles and leans his head into my palm planting a soft kiss. "Then let us start anew, my wife. Let us find out who we truly are, together."
I feel a spark of hope. Perhaps this union, born of duty, could become something more. Something real. And for the first time, I see Aemond not as my enemy, but as my partner, my equal, and perhaps, one day, my love and the father of my future children.
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httpsryu · 5 months
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the cc; campus crush
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pairing: kim minjeong x fem! reader
summary: kim minjeong feels her heart rush at the sight of the cold-hearted rich girl
category: enemies-to-lovers(in minjeong's head)
genre: very very slight angst, fluff at the end
warnings: y/n is kind of mean (ITS IN HER BLOOD)
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Hong Y/N, the youngest daughter of one of the richest conglomerate family, a real life nepo baby whose life has been granted since the day of her birth.
Much like her old sister; Hong Haein, Y/N is known for her cold-stoned face and cold-hearted soul. No one dares to even step in front of the pretty female.
Kim Minjeong on the other hand, oh how she wishes she was able to run into the raven-haired student that roams the campus.
"Isn't it crazy how I only saw her walk by once and I never saw her ever again?" Minjeong rants to her best friends while reading a news article about Y/N and the recent collaboration with YSL.
Jimin looks up from the medicine book, pushing her glasses up. "Well, you two may have different schedules."
"Or, she's only here once in a while?" Aeri assumes. "Like look at her family, college is probably like a hobby to her."
How could college be a hobby when the love of her life is sitting right here in the library.
"Her shoe game always kill." Yizhou scrolls through Y/N's Instagram and looking at the high heels in each post with envy. "You better get on that before some other man does."
Aeri laughs at Yizhou's words and for her friend to have so much hope in the latter. "That's if you ever see her again gracing these college floors."
Minjeong could only grumble under her breath, throwing a rolled up straw wrapper at Aeri. "At least have faith in me, yeah?"
"I have faith in you." Jimin says, raising her hand in support of her friend which earns a smile from the puppy-like female.
Minjeong stretches her arms, letting out a noise in content of how the stretch felt before throwing all her books and notebooks in her bag.
"Going home already?" Yizhou pouts, not wanting the other to leave. "But who will I bother now?"
The short haired rolls her eyes at her friend before pointing at the Japanese and getting out of the chair she's been in for 4 hours. "You can bother her, she's not even doing anything besides watching that dumb rom-com."
"Will we see you in tomorrow's morning lecture or you're skipping again?" Jimin asks, eyes still focusing on the materials written down in the medicine book. "Just wondering if I'll need to bring four or three cups of coffee."
Minjeong contemplates for a second. "I'll show up."
"Okay! See you tomorrow."
For some strange reason, Minjeong will score high on exams yet her overall class grade drops because of lame professors counting attendance, the short-haired has no choice but to start showing up again.
With a hum in response, Minjeong slings her bag around her shoulders as she turns towards the door of the library. She looks down on her phone, checking for any important emails from any professors.
"OW!" A voice gets the short-haired's attention off her phone. "Could you at least watch where you're going?"
OH MY GOD?
Hong Y/N, the girl of Minjeong's dreams.
You pat off your clothes, afraid of dust flying onto your cropped blazer that you JUST got yesterday while shopping with your sister and brother-in-law.
The short-haired is caught in a trance at how beautiful your voice sounds. With a pretty face of yours and a music-like tone of a voice, she doesn't mind dealing with that cold-heart of yours.
"You're not going to apologize or anything?" You ask, glaring at the female in front of you.
Right.
"My bad, I got distracted." Minjeong nervously giggles, not that she's afraid of you but because you're standing in front of her. "I'm sorry for not watching my direction. If you want, I can pay for your clothes if anything is wrong with them."
If Yizhou was here, she would laugh in Minjeong's face at how much of a simp she already was for a girl who BARELY pays attention to anyone.
You look at the puppy-like female, no expression on your face. "No, you don't have to do that. It'll just be a waste of my time."
"Let me treat you out to coffee then!" The other spits out those words in a flash, her eyes full of determination of some sort. "It'll at least ease my mind."
You actually have no time for anything.
"It doesn't have to be today! Or tomorrow or the day after that." Minjeong exclaims, her eyes are puppy-like as she stares down at you. "Just, when you want cofffe, let me know."
And before your mouth forms a response to say, the red haired girl is already off on her heels and walking.
"I don't even know her...?" You speak to yourself, hold on your handbag tightens as you proceed to walk into the library with the same face you had on the entire time.
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Being the youngest daughter of the Hong family isn't the easiest. Sure, others may argue that you got everything handed to you since the second you were born. You admit that they're correct, you were born in a family full of money.
Being born into one of the wealthiest family in South Korea already had a career already chosen for you.
But, it's not something you'd want to do for the rest of your life.
It's different for your sister and brother. While Haein is good at her job and takes charge while also being confident about it, Soocheol was adamant about extending his resort business. And you; you hated being in the business industry. Whether it'd be retail or resort, you'd be homeless instead.
"Y/N, keep your head in the game." Your father's voice brings you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to your senses. "You're going to be working alongside your sister after college so you need to make sure you're paying attention."
You let out a nod, apologizing under your breath as you pay attention back to the board where your brother-in-law is talking about the results of kicking out designer stores that aren't reaching their sales. Whatever that was.
"If we let that happen, we'll be required to pay a penalty fee if they found out due to the branding." Hyunwoo explains to your father.
You let out a bored sigh, looking across the table at your brother who's cluelessly flipping through the papers then at your older sister who is sat beside you, at ease listening to everything being said.
"Stop sighing." Haein warns you, worried that you'll get a scolding from your father at home during dinner. "Just endure it."
You pout your bottom lip out in response, picking up a pen and doodling on the papers that were handed out to you earlier before the meeting. Oh, how you wish you could be anywhere else but here.
"On the topic of counterfeit products, it may affect how the overall sales in a whole range." Hyun-woo points at the estimated percentages.
Fighting to urge to let out another sigh, you rest your chin in the palm of your hand trying to pay attention to whatever your brother-in-law babbling about now.
While trying to look interested in the contents of the screen, you can't help but to think back on what happened earlier on campus and the encounter with the puppy-resembling female.
How come you've never seen her before?
How were you even going to get coffee with her if you don't know the girl? Not saying you would but maybe; if it ever comes down to it; then it will.
"We will take a look and come up with appropriate measures." Your father said, giving a look to your brother to write that down. "Meeting done."
The way everyone in that room can see how your eyes lit up at those last two words from your father. Everyone exits the meeting room, besides your family. Rolling your eyes at what this may mean.
Another lecture on being professional as a Hong family member
Possibly a really good vacation trip out of nowhere
"Hong Y/N, just why do you think you can behave the way you do?" Your father clicks his tongue in a scolding manner, pressing the button on the remote which rolls down the blinds of the meeting room so other employees would not be able to see.
You look down at your hands, not wanting to make eye contact with the angry man.
"I understand you're the youngest but Y/N, you need to realize that you've been off the hook since birth." He continues, letting out a deep sigh after. "You need to start taking things seriously, you are not a kid anymore."
Without letting you say a word, you hear the footsteps of him leave the room with the door clicking shut behind him.
There it is again; the stupid burden falling and feeling heavy on your shoulders. Your body starts trembling and your tears can't stop falling from your dagger-like eyes.
"Y/Nnnie?" Your brother softly calls out, walking over to where you sat. "Are you crying?"
Your brother-in-law's hands you a tissue.
"That's why I told you to endure it." Haein warns you.
Soocheol pats your back. "You know how father is like. He's serious when it comes to business."
"Don't comfort her." Your sister takes Soocheol's hand off your back. "She needs to learn and grow from this."
Hyunwoo calms his wife down. "Honey, let's not stress her out."
"That's right! She's already startled by father's words from earlier." Your brother defends you.
The older female shakes her head, disapproving the two males. "Once you're all settled down, come to my office for a talk, Y/N."
Soocheol gasps, placing his hand over his mouth in a way to not frighten you (it didn't work). While your brother-in-law could only give you a 'good luck' look as he goes back to his office. Soocheol shortly leaving afterwards after getting a phone call from the chairman (your grandfather).
Clicking on the button of the remote to draw the blinds back up, you stare through the windows and across into where your older sister's office is at. She's furrowing her brows upon reading some critical conditions and you know she's unhappy with something.
With a sigh to calm down your nerves, you quietly exit the meeting room and walk across to knock on the CEO's door. Seeing her through the clear glass door, she brings her hand up which prompts you to walk in. Each step you take, nerves are taking over as you walk towards her desk.
"I'm not being tough on you because I want to." She looks up, crossing her arm. "But because you're a smart woman, Y/N. We just want to push that towards the business that's been in the family."
Business this! Business that! Why does no one ever want to hear what you want to do?
"Do you get what I'm trying to say?" Her brow is raised, looking stern yet she means no harm. "Push through for a few more years, alright?"
You want to laugh-out of absurd. Everyone always tells you that as long as you listen to father and grandfather, you should be set. After all, we were born and raised into a conglomerate family. One of the wealthiest at that.
Yet, why does it bother you when you know you're set for life?
"Are you listening, Y/N?" Haein says, waiting for your response.
"Yes."
With a hum in satisfaction, Haein leans back in her chair. "Okay, meeting done."
With a small bow, you can only walk out of your older sister's office feeling disappointed in yourself.
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Minjeong sighs while taking a seat in the back of the lecture room waiting for the class to start and for her friends to get here. She can only get her materials out and prepare for class in the meantime.
While opening her tote bag, she hears the lecture room's doors open again, indicating that another person also decided to come early. Looking up, still tired and out of her mind, to see who the other person is; Minjeong suddenly sits up and instantly widens awake.
What are you doing here? You were in this class? How come the others never told her about you?
You stand up straight, bag clutched in your hands while looking effortlessly beautiful in a vintage Chanel long sleeved blazer which hugs your waist perfectly along with a white turtleneck and a matching vintage Chanel skirt. And rarely; a backpack is hugging your back.
Minjeong has to give it you; she does admit that your shoe game will always do the outfit even more attention. Valentino heels seems to be one of your favorites.
Oh; how down bad Minjeong is for this classy lady in front of her.
You and her make eye contact. You look at her, realizing that it's the same puppy-eyed girl from yesterday. With a small quiet sigh, you walk up the lecture room's stairs.
The short-haired feels her breath hitch at the sight of you walking, omg the universe is blessing her with all of these Y/N moments.
"Is anyone sitting here?" You ask, the same cold sounding voice like yesterday but oh does Minjeong love the way your voice sounds. (she can never be your hater like the others are)
The ginger shakes her head immediately. "Please sit!"
'Strange.' You talk to yourself in your own thoughts at how eager that girl sounded.
Nonetheless, you sit in the seat next to her. Taking your backpack off and placing it aside before staring at the side view of the red haired. How strange yet intriguing she is.
Minjeong can see from her peripheral vision, her ears starts heating up and she can't help but to awkwardly turn to you. Expecting you to look away, you continue staring. Same unfazed cold expression that you're known for.
"W-why are you staring at me?" She asks, unsure of what to do or say.
Getting a shrug in response from you, you sigh before turning your full attention to the front of the room.
"What time does this class end?" You look down at the watch sitting on your wrist, ready to bolt out of here before getting yet another scolding from your sister.
"9:45."
With another sigh escaping your mouth, you sit up straight while continuing to stare at the whiteboard against the wall.
Minjeong wonders how long you've been in this class for. Perhaps; it's your first day.
The door opens again, this time with two loud voices and one voice shushing them constantly. A specific ginger short-haired hides her face from them, on purpose (and to also not mess up her love life).
"Oh! Minjeong is here today!" Aeri looks up, ready to wave at the named girl before trailing her eyes over to the figure next to her and her mouth instantly hangs low.
You nod to yourself at the recent information. Her name is Minjeong? Somehow; that name matches the puppy-like student.
"Let's not bother her." Jimin pushes both Aeri and Yizhou to rows a couple behind the first before sending a look over to her best friend.
The Japanese fights the urge to look back, whispering to Yizhou. "I thought Hong Y/N dropped this class?"
"She probably had other things to attend to." Yizhou whispers back.
Clearing your throat, you turn towards the female besides you.
Minjeong fidgets with her hands before she too turns to face you.
"About that coffee-" "-Would you like to get coffee today?"
The both of you stare at each other, until she lets out a laugh which caught your attention. Suddenly, you're staring a bit harder at her, focusing on her features a bit longer than you normally would focus on other people. And you cannot help but to wonder why once again, you've never seen her before until now.
"Would you like to get coffee with me today after class?" Minjeong asks, a smile on her pretty lips as she patiently waits for your answer with nervousness rushing through her at the expression of yours.
You clear your throat again, pulling away from the eye contact as you stare back at the front while ignoring the way your cheeks suddenly feels warm. "Okay, then."
Your answer simply means yes.
To Minjeong, that answer sounded indecisive almost.
"Your treat, correct?" You ask, still ignoring the weird heating effect on your cheeks.
The puppy-like female is doing summersaults in her head, jumping up and down mentally like an overly excited puppy who's ready to tackle down their human.
"Yeah! Of course, it is!"
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next part: may 8, 2024; publishing date
i LOVED qot SO MUCH so of course i had a bit of inspo for this small short, characters from queen of tears are NOT mines (all rights go to the writers) leaning to writing another part to this (maybe?)
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pomefioredove · 3 months
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Hiii!! I was wondering if you could “I can’t stop thinking about you” with Jade? If ur prompt things are still open of course! If not that’s totally okay too!!
o7 anon
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summary: "I can’t stop thinking about you" type of post: short fic characters: jade additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, not proofread and maybe a little ooc a part of this event
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"And don't forget to lock the doors when you leave,"
Azul sighs, hovering in the doorway of the Mostro Lounge with his hands on his hips.
"Luckily, nothing was stolen last time I let Floyd take the closing shift, but luck is fickle,"
He pauses, turning to you. "I'm sure you, at least, will be able to handle something so simple."
You salute the tired-looking merman before the soft swoosh of the kitchen door interrupts the conversation.
"My, you have such little faith in me, Azul. I'm wounded," a smoother, much less tense, presence follows it.
You'd always wondered how Jade is able to sound imposing without ever actually raising his voice.
Azul huffs. "I clearly was not addressing you. Good evening to the both of you... Don't stay up too late,"
And with that, he's gone.
As soon as the door is closed and Azul's inky silhouette has vanished, you turn to look at the gentleman behind you.
"I didn't even know you were here,"
"I'm not supposed to be," Jade smiles, offering little explanation.
By now, you're sure he does that on purpose.
You don't feel like being baited into a conversation, but when your only other option is silence with Jade...
"So?"
"I was taking stock," he says. "Both metaphorically and literally. We're short on limes."
His strangeness radiates off of him like a mist. You narrow your eyes at him; he's hiding something, you're sure. But what are you supposed to do- interrogate him?
"I'll leave a note," you mutter, turning your attention back to sweeping.
This is your very first closing shift at the lounge; no customers, no Azul, no sounds except for your own breathing.
And Jade's.
He smiles again. "Shall I help? You'll be done faster with another set of hands,"
He could just leave. He's not even on the clock... if this is him looping you into some ploy to get overtime, you swear...
"If you would like,"
"Excellent,"
Jade disappears into the kitchen, taking that strange air of tension with him, and returns with a rag and cleaning solution.
He's completely silent, perusing the lounge as if it were an art museum, admiring the specks and stains on each table before wiping them down.
"You seem nervous," he says merrily, not even looking at you. "Are you afraid of the dark?"
"No," a half-truth. "I'm just tired." a lie.
"I've read that many human children develop a fear of the dark. What's more, is that it's not considered irrational. How fascinating,"
You focus on the bristles of the broom in front of you. The Mostro Lounge does get rather dark at night... all of Octavinelle does.
"It's not irrational," you mutter.
"Perhaps for you. But in the sea, a child being afraid of the dark would be as silly to us as a child being afraid of sunlight would be to you,"
You pause to look out one of the windows in the lounge, the thick pane of glass separating you from the inky depths. It's almost pitch black at this hour.
Ugh. You're letting him get in your head.
You hum. "Is that why you're here, then? Protecting me from the dark?"
Jade smiles, watching you out of the corner of his eyes. "No. I was only making conversation. You seemed uncomfortable with my presence,"
"I just was expecting to be alone,"
"So was I,"
You pause, turning to him with a questioning glance.
As vague an answer as ever, you think, though there's a certain gleam in his eye that's daring you to find out for yourself.
He meets your gaze. "You interest me,"
Jade says it plainly, his tone soft, as if he thinks he might scare you away with any sudden movements.
"I can't stop thinking about you," he hums. "And I hope you understand my meaning... I do not seek to make you uncomfortable."
You set the broom against the wall. "You're not,"
He mimics you, setting the rag and bottle aside. If you didn't know any better, you could've sworn you caught a look of relief on him.
"Good. I have no malicious intentions... This time,"
You take that as a joke. It's not very funny.
Jade chuckles. "Ah, don't roll your eyes at me. I'm only lightening the mood... I would like to get to know you better, after all," he pauses. "As a confidante."
There's something oddly genuine about this.
He's as calm as ever, but you can tell there's a current of vulnerability hiding beneath the surface.
You can't help a smile at the thought.
"Not an informant, then?"
He smiles back. "Not with you, no,"
424 notes · View notes
akirathedramaqueen · 1 month
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The bias is not always conscious
And that's the case with Stolas. That's it, that's basically the post, so you can count it as your tl;dr, but let me elaborate. :)
(A little gratitude note! Sorry @tealvenetianmask, I failed being concise here, but I thank you for encouraging me to put it all together :3 I also thank you for our conversations about Stolas and about museums in particular which heavily contributed to it)
I think there's some misunderstanding when people get offended by the suggestion that Stolas acts classist/racist. It seems that people assume we’re implying he is malicious and intentional with it, but the actual problem is that he doesn't think.
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S2EP2, Seeing Stars, 1:29
The problematic behavior we're discussing is reflexive and internalized. Stolas was raised in an environment where the lower demon class is looked down upon, and while he believes he expresses nothing but deep respect for Blitzø and treats him as an equal…
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Goodnight, Blitzø. S1EP7, Ozzie's, 14:50
And while you can see from this bow that this intention is sincere, which is both wonderful and fascinating—he preserved this profound gesture ever since he was a kid, despite being actively discouraged from doing so!...
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[Stolas]: I'm Stolas! It's nice... Ouch! [Paimon]: Don't bow to that one! He bows to us! Idiot! S2EP1, The Circus, 7:40
He was still raised in privilege and influenced by the narratives around him. For him, it's acceptable because that's what he was taught is fine. It's part of his everyday speech, and he never actually asks Blitzø, or anyone else, how they feel about the literally belittling nicknames (like literally—do you notice how often he uses the word "little" when referring to imps?).
I mean... there's a lot, okay? I'm just going to pull out some examples off the top of my head. All of them are from Season 1, and I'll explain why later.
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I was hoping you brave little imps would accompany us! S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 5:15
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Ugh, that's better... Where's Blitzy? He's my knight in shining armor, not you, littler ones! S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 13:22
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And it [grimoire] isn't supposed to be lent out to itty-bitty imps like yourself. S1EP5, The Harvest Moon Festival, 0:30
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Greetings, tiny Wrath Ring imps! S1EP5, The Harvest Moon Festival, 8:22
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[Stolas, in the background]: Who dares threaten my little impish plaything? S1EP6, Truth Seekers, 18:20
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How the fuck did you get caught by humans? Are you little creatures not being careful up here? S1EP6, Truth Seekers, 19:38
He also takes pride in being part of Ars Goetia. That pride seeps into his mind whether he wants it to or not. He lives in a huge palace, never worries about money, can arrange a seat in a club that’s always booked out, and gets admitted to a hospital immediately, while hellhounds wait five years for a Hellbies shot.
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Being part of the Goetia family is rather valuable, you know. S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 4:39
Most of these examples come from Season 1 because, after the disastrous Ozzie’s date, Stolas begins to unconsciously cut back on this language. He seems to sense that something is wrong, though he doesn’t fully understand why. However, he is acutely aware of the problems with the transaction and the unfair dynamics it creates, and he is serious about putting Blitzø on equal ground by providing him with the means to run his business independently of Stolas.
And still, he maintains full control over the conversation during the Full Moon meeting, immediately dismisses Blitzø after one mistake, and throws him out. He continues to impose his narrative on Blitzø and…
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I don't look down on you! How many times do I— When have I ever?! S2EP9, Apology Tour, 2:45
When have you ever indeed, Stolas? You literally look down on Blitzø saying that. This moment illustrates the problem clearly. He isn’t lying when he says he doesn’t look down on Blitzø because he genuinely believes he doesn’t.
Despite all said, Stolas is making a tremendous effort and is progressing, and he is far ahead of Stella, who is openly classist/racist and very conscious of her biases. So I believe—no, I know—he will get there one day. But not today.
This is something I take quite seriously, and I think people need to understand how dangerous this subtlety can be, as it happens all the time in real life too.
How often do you ask yourself why medical research groups are predominantly represented by white, cis, upper-middle-class males, and how this affects the efficiency of treatments suggested in these studies for everyone else—women, people of color, non-binary folks, and those who struggle financially?
How often do you visit museums and see art created by wealthy aristocrats who defined what constitutes 'fine art,' while 'folk art'—often created by marginalized communities—is overlooked and lost to time?
I could elaborate further on how deep and cruel this bias is, but I’ll stop here. I just ask you to consider why you might get offended when someone points out Stolas's subtle bigotry and why you might downplay it compared to the loud, aggressive Blitzø, whose anger and avoidant issues are obvious.
Just sit with it.
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olsenmyolsen · 10 months
Text
Ever Since Natasha Saw You (18+)
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master list
dark master list
Post Black Widow Dark!Natasha Romanoff (Female Reader X Natasha Romanoff)
Summary: She was a hero. But to her, YOU were so much more.
Word Count: 6.1K
Content: Dub-Con, Obsession, Kidnapping, Stalking, Blood, Knife, Knifeplay, Mommy Kink, Feelings, Trauma, Death,
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The Black Widow hid a secret.
She was in love with you. Sounds pretty innocent... right?
"Night Y/N!" Your coworker Daisy called out as you were still typing at your computer. It was Friday night, and everyone but you was already leaving. Leaving to be free of the thoughts of work for at least the weekend.
You had a marketing job in downtown Manhattan. Skyscraper. Cubicle. Long nights. That kind of job.
You liked it, honestly.
Sure, New York and the surrounding areas were dangerous. Hell, at times. But you had heroes and vigilantes to save you. You had first-hand experience in 2012 when you and your Dad were saved while out at your "I made it through University without killing myself" lunch.
Now, here you were 4 years later. Still in the city while your Dad left. But that was fine. Being on your own has been exemplary. Sure, you have some friends... coworkers, really. You went on dates! I mean, they didn't lead to much more. But you were going through life.
A cat! You have a cat. An orange tabby who only loves you for food...
Anyways! You were fine and finishing up work on your computer when a pop-up of World News showed up in the top right-hand corner of your screen.
What's New 3 Weeks After The Fall Of A Secret Organization Hiding In The Sky? Russia and the U.S. Remain Quiet.
You heard about the debris and strange things found over on that side of the world earlier this month. With that came the theories.
You rolled your eyes at most. But some were fun. Like aliens was a popular one. People online said it was a crashed group of green-shape-shifting aliens. Your coworker Lindsey swore by another that claimed it was a giant purple guy who crashed on Earth.
Yeah, that'll be the day.
You even had a friend of a friend named Darcy who said an Avenger was present to what happened, leaving you curious.
The Avengers, as far as you were concerned, were in trouble. Rumblings, sightings, and videos of two sides of the superhero group fighting at a German airport left many to speculate that this was the end. Plus, this coming weeks after what happened in Lagos and the murder of King T'Chaka made it all the more plausible.
So, if the rumor was confirmed that an Avenger was at the collapse of what many were confused about, it was... interesting.
But you couldn't dwell on that. You shook your head and closed out of the news to finish up your projected cost for the next wave of Roxxon Marketing.
_
As you walked out of your office building, you were unaware you were being followed.
It wasn't the first time you had been followed. Fuck it wasn't even the fiftieth time it had happened, but still you remained clueless. She thought it was cute at first how unaware of your surroundings you were. It always made her smile.
Because in one second, an innocent and pretty thing like you could be gone.
But she wouldn't let that happen.
Not by anyone else, at least.
You have to understand. She was your protector. Yeah.. Yeah, that's right! The one to make sure you got home safe. The one to take care of threats no matter how minuscule they might be. She also made sure no one got too close or even dared to ask you out.
You couldn't date. That would be unfair and very hurtful to the one who... watched over you...
I mean, you never wondered why suddenly Dennis never showed back up to work after asking you out to lunch, now did you?
Rumor was his family got sick, and he had to skip town. But we know about rumors now, don't we? I.E., purple aliens. Green shapeshifting ones. You get it.
Oh. Also. What happened to Dennis, you may ask?
I'll let you know when his body turns up.
However, all of this is to say that you were lucky Natasha Romanoff picked you.
She was back after being gone, having to deal with some family business. But she was back! For you! Natasha thought you should be grateful. She could be- SHOULD BE on the run right now, but here she was twenty feet behind you.
After tonight, you were going to know precisely who she was.
Natasha smiled as she followed you. She laughed as she saw how cautious you were of people even when you're on your phone like you are right now.
However, as cautious as you may be, it leaves you vulnerable. Sweet. Easy.
Natasha thinks you're too nice for your own good sometimes. Like you always see the best in people. It drives Natasha crazy the amount times she has had to stop because you stopped to help someone. A drunk. A homeless man. A- you get it.
As you and Natasha head down into the subway, she appreciates how your route hasn't changed at all since your first day of work many years ago. Yet she can't help but snicker at how you've never noticed her taking that walk with you. But then again, even with how cautious you are, you don't notice things.
You still haven't noticed the tiny cameras Natasha installed in your place. Or the amount of panties she's stolen. Or even the amount of times you've slept with her arms around your body. In addition to the hushed whispers and stolen kisses, she's left on your lips.
On top of that, you haven't noticed her feelings for you.
Natasha moves closer to you as you both are nearing your stop. With a plan in motion, The Black Widow can't help but smile.
Natasha takes another step forward and grabs onto the metal pole in front of herself to stop her movement when you look up and around the car. You stop when your eyes reach Natasha's green ones in a hoodie and jeans. You smile quickly before putting your head down, focusing back on your phone.
What you did just now was polite. You looked from your phone to stretch your neck and smiled at a cute blonde who just so happened to be looking your way.
That's what you thought.
To Natasha, you signaled her out.
With your eyes, you noticed her. After all this time, you did it! On tonight of all nights. It was a sign. It was meant to be!
Natasha smiled and stared at you, unaware.
When you finally got up to get off at your stop, you felt your arm being yanked back. When you stumbled back and turned your head to find a bald man older than your father looking at you like he won a prize, you pulled as hard as possible. But his grip was tight. "Where are you going, sweetheart?" He looked over your body, making you pull again.
How was no one stopping this man? Was no one seeing it? Did no one care?
The train car beeped, signaling the doors were going to be closing, and the man had yet to remove you from his grip. You were about to scream when the blonde woman from before grabbed your other arm, making you shriek in surprise. The woman acted fast and kicked the man in the knee hard enough to break it before rushing the two of you out of the train car just as the doors closed on three other men hitting their first against the door.
You wanted to wave them bye and flick them off, but your arm hurt. Not the one the man held.. But... but your other one. The one the woman held as she saved you.
"You, alright?" The blonde had a raspy voice as she spoke. It sounded familiar, but as you quickly scanned her face, you declared she must have that kind of face. (as if) But her eyes. Her eyes were one of a kind. Beautiful and a shimmering green you wanted to get lost in.
So lost that you almost forgot about the arm pain and the dizziness you were starting to feel...
"Yeah." You nodded to the blonde who had yet to release your arm. "I'm fine."
This was a lie, and Natasha, of course, knew that. I mean, she was the one wearing the ring that, with one turn of the gemstone, revealed a tiny needle. One that the blonde used to inject your arm with a sleeping agent.
"Are you sure?" The woman smiled as she asked you. Why was she smiling? You went to nod that you were indeed fine but found yourself more tired. Weaker even. "Oh, honey, you don't look so good."
Natasha smiled as she felt your body losing the fight. Natasha quickly looked around before wrapping your arm around her shoulder to make it appear as if you were a drunk friend who needed help getting home.
"Oh, Y/N, it looks like that guy must have really done something, huh?"
The guy in the group of men that she paid off.
Your mind was becoming black as your body went limp, and before you could ask her how she knew your name or who the hell she was, you took one last look at the blonde.
This time, you recognized who she was.
You went to speak but slurred your words as you closed your eyes, passing out in Natasha Romanoff's arms.
_
Getting you home was easy.
As Natasha unlocked your front door, she smiled, pulling you closer as you entered through the threshold between the hallway and your apartment. Natasha smiled wider as she looked around at what would become her place with you before looking at your limp, unconscious body. "We're home!"
Home was with you.
With a kick to the door, it closed behind you two as she hurried you to your room.
Once inside, Natasha was happy to find that not much, if anything, had changed since she last visited. She said hi to your cat, who purred at the sight of the blonde.
Natasha loved your cat and couldn't wait to be a good cat mom.
Natasha took you and gently placed you on the bed before looking around the room. She was looking for something. Natasha closed the bedroom door and went back, kicking the floorboard to the right of your end table, and up it flipped. She bent down and pulled out a small black backpack she stored two years ago.
Opening it up to make sure everything was still there. She knew you probably didn't even know that it existed. (You hadn't.) But Natasha had to be sure.
Dumping out the bag's contents, she was happy to see that nothing was missing. But she still took inventory. 5 Widow Bites. 1 Pistol. 12 Bullets. 1 Set of Handcuffs. 1 Knife. 3 Needles of the Sleeping Agent. 1 Burner Phone.
Finally, 2 very dry Nutri-Grain Bar.
Natasha kept the loaded gun, knife, and handcuffs out of the bag and placed it on the desk in the corner of your room. The bag moved to the edge of the bed—no point in hiding it now.
"Oh, Y/N!" Natasha sat next to your upper body, passed out on the bed. She spoke as her soft hand ran through your hair. It calmed Natasha. "You're so pretty, Y/N."
Natasha looked over your still-covered body before moving her hand down your back. "Here. Come on." She flipped you over onto your back and pulled you more onto the bed.
Natasha's eyes found your face. "Baby, I can't wait for the rest of our lives." Natasha bit her lip as she spoke to you. Hopefully, and giddy for the future. "We're going to be so happy." Natasha leaned down and planted a kiss at the top of your head. "You still smell like coconut. I still don't really like that shampoo, but I know how much you do." Natasha smiled as if this was a normal conversation before giving you another kiss. Just as one of her hands began to snake its way across your stomach before landing at your hip.
"I love you."
Natasha couldn't help herself. She smiled brightly as she said those words out loud to you for the first time.
Natasha's lips found the side of your face again and again. She always loved how soft you felt against her. Delicate. Like something Natasha wanted to cherish. Keep perfect. Forever.
But there was also that part inside of her. The side of Natasha that wanted to own you. Take that softness and fuck it out of you. Damage you. Hurt you.
Both were fighting for control.
Regardless, Natasha slid down the zipper of your unbuttoned jeans and slipped her hand over your black cotton panties. Moaning as her stomach flipped in the joys of touching you, feeling your heat on her fingers. Letting excitement wave over her, she cupped your pussy before dragging her index finger up over your growing wet-covered folds. "Oh fuck, baby!" Natasha moaned before looking at the side of your face.
Natasha smiles to herself. She leans over and kisses your cheek, and quickly removes her hand from your recently shaved pussy.
Natasha licks the little slick on her fingers off.
Natasha savored the taste before she laid flat on her back. Lifting her ass as she tore off the black jeans she was wearing along with her red panties. Choosing to keep her slightly raised pullover hoodie on, Natasha grabbed your left wrist. "I want you to feel me..." Natasha looked over and spoke to you. "I want you to feel how wet you make me, Y/N! How tight I am for you. I've been waiting."
With that, Natasha kept her eyes on your left hand as she moved it down her toned stomach. The tips of your fingers brushing over her skin, making her squirm in anticipation for what's to come.
Moving them further down, Natasha gasps as your hand gets pushed down onto the top of Natasha's bare pussy. "This is for you." She moans as she pushed your hand further down. Directing your middle and ring finger to her clit. "Oh fuck!" She moans and grows wetter at your unconscious touch.
"Keep going. Keep going!" Natasha directs your fingers to move in a circular motion. Before her mouth drops as your fingers get pushed over The Black Widows dripping pussy. She moans and grips your hand. "Right there." Natasha moves your fingers around her opening for you.
"It's for you, baby. Come on. I want you to fuck me!" She gives your hand one more push and bucks when your fingers easily slide into her. Natasha loudly moans while her left hand grips the comforter of the bed.
Your fingers feel perfect inside of her.
Natasha can't get over that.
She thinks you were made for her.
Slowly, Natasha starts to move herself against your fingers. Her hips working overtime. Only using her right hand to position your hand better. "Oh my God!" Natasha smiles as a shaky breath comes out. You're doing this to her. You're making her feel this good. You're fucking her right.
Natasha is rocking her hips up and down your slick fingers. You're pushing her closer and closer. "Oh god!" She grunts as she slams the back of your hand to feel you deeper, indirectly slapping her pussy and clit that, sends a wave of pain that morphs into pleasure. "Oh yes!"
Natasha does it repeatedly while her left-hand works on her clit. Her middle fingers pushes the bud of it up as she continues her circular motion. "That's it, baby! Make me cum! Make me fucking cum!" She turns her head to you and stares at your unconscious body. "You're doing so well, baby."
If you were awake right now, you'd feel Natasha's wetness run down your fingers. Into your palms. And down your wrist. You'd hear her moans and screams of pleasure as she makes herself cum with your fingers. "Oh my God!" Natasha Romanoff jolts up. "Y/N, I'm cumming! I'm cumming! Oh fuck! Oh, fuck, baby.."
Natasha rides her orgasm out and smiles when she falls back onto the bed. She turns and looks at your body. "You made me feel so good."
You're perfect.
As she catches her breath, Natasha gently pulls your fingers out and brings them up to her mouth. She marvels at the sight of you now covered in her before she takes her tongue and runs it over your fingers. Enjoying the taste of herself. "I can't wait to taste you." Now that we're together, she forgot to add.
Natasha insets your finger back into her mouth. Loudly sucking on them and moaning before shoving your fingers to the back of her throat, making herself gag on them. She repeats the action.
"Will you let me do that to you?" Natasha says after she's pulled them out and caught her breath. "Hmm?" She licks them again. "Will you gag for me?" She kisses your ring finger and twirls it around. "I wonder..."
Natasha kisses you one more time as she gently places your hand down and moves her body to lay half of it on you. "I wonder what you won't do now that you're mine." She takes your chin in her hand and moves it in her direction. "I can't wait for you to be awake. For us." Natasha deeply kisses your lips as her hand quickly pushes your boobs up. "But first." Natasha releases you and gets up from the bed. She takes off the rest of her clothes and tosses them into your now-shared laundry basket before moving to the desk where her belongings are located.
"I need to take care of a few things."
_
Slowly, your body starts to stir awake.
You go to move to your side but wince when you land on your arm. You are unsure why it hurts, but you are too stiff and tired to worry about that right now. But for some reason, since you're awakening, your body isn't going back to sleep.
Silent bells are ringing in your head, but you don't know they're there.
You groan and manage to flip your body onto its stomach. This position feels terrific, especially since you feel the coolness of the bedsheet against your body. You snuggle your face into your pillow- your eyes shoot open.
You don't remember coming home...
You open your eyes wider and take a look around the room. It's your room. You're relieved to see that but grow more worried at your nonexistent memory of getting home.
Plus, it looks like things around the room are off... you turn your tired back against the mattress and find yourself surprised to have another person in the room.
A blonde-haired woman wearing one of your college sweatshirts looking through one of your old journals... Once again, the alarm in your head is not alerting you. It's distant and faded.
"That's my shirt..?" Your groggy voice makes the woman look up with a smile.
To you, the woman's smile looks like a kid on Christmas morning.
To Natasha, she's testing out how you're gonna act.
"Hi!" The woman gets up with a glass of water from the chair at your desk. The action reveals to you that it looks like she's not wearing any bottoms, but you can't tell because of the length of her- your sweatshirt. The blonde rounds the bed and carefully gets on her knees before you on the floor. She looks kindly at you as your eyes quickly scan her face and exposed legs. "Nice to see you up." She says to you. Innocently enough. "How are you feeling?" She sweetly asks as she hands you the glass of water.
"I don't- I don't remember..." You say, making the blonde smile wider. "I was walking..." You struggle to come up with anything after that. It's like your mind went blank.
Why couldn't you remember?
You shake your head and take a few sips from the glass before the blonde takes it from you to place on your bedside table—a kind gesture on the outside. But the less you know about the pheromonal powder agent you just ingested, the better.
"Oh, honey..." The blonde lifts and places her hand on yours. The soft contact makes you feel warmer. However, the feeling of this being wrong is still unreachable to you. Natasha smiles when you don't pull away. The drugs from before and now are working. "Those men really did a number on you, huh?"
Men? You think as Natasha watches your face.
"You know you're lucky I was there," Natasha says as she rises from her kneeling position to stand in front of you. Now she towers you, and you feel her legs brush past your own. You don't stop her as she moves closer to you. She raises a hand and pushes some of your hair back. "A man grabbed you and wanted to hurt you, but I was there to stop them. But honey, I think they drugged you..."
Her touch and voice were soothing. She felt and smelled wonderful. You even did your best to not react to the pet name she gave you. "Dru-drugged me?" Once again, the bells should be going off, but Natasha knows exactly what she's doing. "Yeah, I got you off the train, but as we were walking, you started to walk funny. Your face got sleepy." She says this while looking into your eyes. She has her gaze fixated on you, and it pulls you in. "But you were smart." The blonde smiles down at you. "You made sure to tell me where you lived so I could get you home safe." Her raspy voice makes you smile, but her words are making you question if that happened... but you don't remember...
"Are you okay?" She asks as you're thinking. You look back up at her concerned face. "Yeah.. I- I was just trying to remember..." Natasha nods and moves her body in between your legs. Spreading them further apart. "What did you say your name was again?" You ask, making Natasha laugh. "I didn't. Good try, though." She places her hands on your shoulders. She's bold. "What's the matter? You don't trust me?" Something about the way she says it makes you feel sick and guilty for even thinking that you didn't trust her.
Natasha, of course, knows this.
"No- no, I trust you! I'm sorry!" You reach your hands out and place them on Natasha's covered hips. Natasha smiles at your action while faking a sad sniffle. "My name is Natasha." You look over the blonde and smile.
That's when it clicks.
"Natasha Romanoff." Natasha's frown turns into a smile. "Wow, you know who I am?" She fakes surprise and turns on the innocence. You nod with your mind, unable to think about anything else but her. "Wow! I got saved by The Black Widow."
Natasha watches as you process this faux information. Gosh, you look so cute. "I guess I was lucky, huh?" You look at her, earning a chuckle. "I just didn't want anything to happen to you," Natasha says, warming your heart. "You're too perfect." She adds in a low whisper. Something you catch that makes your brain fuzzy.
However, before you can do or say anything else, Natasha pushes her body closer to you. Carefully, she watches your eyes as she lifts one leg over yours. Placing one knee on the bed next to your hips before doing the same with the other. She smiles down at you as her bare ass finds itself sitting in your lap.
You feel her wet pussy on your tight black bike shorts.
"Is this okay?" She whispers as she brings her face close enough to yours to feel her breath on your ear. You inhale her scent and feel the butterflies in your stomach.
"More than okay, Natasha..." You find yourself saying. The alarms in your head have officially been silenced. You should be asking why she's doing this, why she's still here. You shouldn't be accepting her advances. But yet you aren't questioning her. You accept her actions with a smile.
She smiles back.
"You know..." Natasha leans down and kisses your cheek. "I'll always protect you." You feel a blush on your face when her soft lips touch your skin again. "I've loved you for so long, and now I get to show you." Natasha lifts her face away from you to look at your eyes flutter.
Natasha sees how defenseless you are now.
The drugs have all worked.
"You love me?" You question as you move your hands down from Natasha's hips to her thighs. The touch of her feels cool to your warm hands. You peer into her green eyes and see them sparkle. "For years, I've loved you." She unwraps her arms from around you and places them on your hands. She moves them up from her thighs to under what used to be your shirt. You feel the bend of her hips and the softness of the sides of her body as your fingertips brush past their way to her nipples.
She pushes your hand to grope her boobs.
"For years, I've wanted you, and now I have you. Don't I?"
Natasha slowly moves her hips back and forth, sending a wave of pleasure through her body as her wet clit brushes up and down the end seam of your bike shorts. She moans and whimpers while looking at you, waiting for an answer. "Don't I, Y/N?!" You push and pull her boobs as you look at Natasha Romanoff acting like a slut for you. "Yes. Yes, Natasha! You have me!"
"I'm yours!" You wanted to scream.
"Good girl." She whispers as she leans down and kisses you again and again. Her tongue pushing its way into your mouth. The taste of her is salvia is electrifying. The pleasure you feel makes you moan into her mouth. Natasha smirks as you push yourself deeper and closer to The Black Widow.
Natasha reaches down as you two fall onto the bed to places her hand in the middle of your bike shorts. She begins rubbing your core up and down as her hand pushes your legs open. "Come on, baby. Open up for me."
You nod with your eyes closed and feel Natasha's fingers slow down in speed as she now gently brushes her fingers past your wet clit seeping through the shorts.
Each time she touches it, you jump.
And then. Natasha pulls her hands away from you: nothing but the cool air touching the wet spot on your shorts. You feel needy and frustrated. You open your eyes to see Natasha on her knees, lifting her shirt off her body. Her blonde hair falls back into place right above her shoulder.
She smiles at you and watches as you take her in.
You feel your mouth become dry as you look up at Natasha's toned stomach. A set of abs staring at you. You move from her perfect breast and hard pink nipples to her shoulders and biceps. The definition in her arms makes you close your mouth to hold in a noise that would've been embarrassing.
You look up at her neck—a smile when you see a cute mole that was previously hidden. Finally, you bring your eyes to her face and the smirk on her lips.
"Can I take these off?" Natasha points down to your bike shorts. You nod, making Natasha internally laugh. The shorts were coming off no matter what your answer was.
You pull your head from Natasaba's gaze and watch as Natasha's left hand goes to the bottom seam of your shorts and lifts them up from your body.
Once again, her touch makes your skin flush with pleasure. It's as if you're addicted to her and her touch.
Natasha pulls her right arm from behind herself, and that's when you drop your mouth. "Na-natasha, what's that?"
"Did I say you can speak?"
You sit stunned as the knife in her hand comes closer to your body. You weren't aware that you couldn't speak unless spoken to, but... di- did Natasha expect that of you? Did she tell you, and you just forgot?
"Look at me." She sternly asks of you. "Not at the knife but at me." The movement of the knife doesn't stop when you pull your eyes to Natasha and her beautiful green ones. "What did I say earlier?" She asks. "Think real hard and then answer me, okay." Her eyes leave you as she focuses on the blade, meeting the bottom seam of your shorts. You keep your eyes on Natasha's face and hear the ripping sound of your shorts as she goes further and further up.
She stops at your hip close to the top seam when you decide to speak up.
"That you'll always protect me." Natasha smiles wide. You listened and answered her perfectly. Natasha smiles and can't help herself when she leans in and kisses you. "Good job." She says with care dripping from her lips. "What else did I say?"
"That you love me."
Natasha nods. "I do love you." She leans in and, with the knife still in her left hand, drags up the rest of the way. Her lips touch yours at the same time the blade cuts through your shorts.
Immediately, Natasha tosses the knife off the bed. It clatters on the floor, making you jump into Natasha's lips again. "Sorry." You say when she backs away. "It's okay." The blonde tells you. "As long as you know that I would never hurt you, right?"
"Right." You agree easily.
Natasha smiles as she pulls at the fabric resting on your pussy. The coating sticks to you as she pulls it further away until the string of wetness breaks mid-air. Falling back onto your thigh. "Did Mommy make you feel this way?"
She knows that she did.
But she wants to hear you say it.
"Yes." Natasha brings her fingers back to where they belong. "Yes, what?" She glides her middle finger over your pink mound. You moan and shudder.
"Yes, Mommy."
_
Natasha should've left soon after that night. But she couldn't bring herself to do it.
She knew her friends needed her help, but she couldn't leave you. She finally had you, and you had her. Why would she want to jeopardize that?
So as, the days turned into weeks to months to years. Natasha felt the pressure to run continue to build.
In contrast, as the days turned into weeks to months to years. You felt yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with the one who saved you. The Black Widow. The cute blonde hero who made you breakfast in bed. The woman who stayed with you. The one who whispered sweet nothings into your ear every night as you drifted asleep. The woman who saved the world repeatedly could now be there for you.
Natasha even let it be known that you didn't have to work anymore. She had an array of offshore accounts and wanted to spoil you, and you, in turn, let her.
You blushed when she looked your way and never got tired of seeing her smile. A goddess herself sculpted her body, and Natasha happily made sure you came for her. Only her.
"Hey, what's going on?"
You walked out of your and Natasha's bedroom after finding the bed empty to see her in the living room going over her weaponry. Something you didn't like, but you trusted Natasha with them. Knowing she would never harm you.
It was early afternoon, and after your morning trip to the farmers market, followed by some light grocery shopping, you came home to Natasha, waiting with some brunch and a board game.
You took a nap after that, and while you slept, Natasha made her decision.
"They need me."
You knew who Natasha was talking about. It wasn't a secret that you were dating Natasha Romanoff. Well, it was a secret to everyone else. But you get my point. You were dating a fugitive labeled that by the United Nations on account of the Sokovian Accords—an ex-Avenger who still wanted to help.
"What if I don't want you to go." You asked with hurt in your voice. You finally had the love of your life. Someone you weren't even looking for, and now she wanted to go?
"Baby..." She put her gun on the coffee table and made her way to you. Wrapping her arms around you as you wrapped around her body. "I don't want to go..." A white lie, considering her little weekend-avenging trips from time to time weren't enough. "But I have to. To protect us. To protect you." The truth.
"Rogers needs me. Plus, with Vision and Wanda running around trying to be a normal couple again. He really needs the help."
You nodded into Natasha's shoulder. You hated that she was right. "How long?" Natasha sighed. She really didn't know how long it would be.
"Give me two weeks, and I'll be back."
You deflated, and your heart formed cracks. You didn't want her to leave, and you didn't want her to go for that long!
Natasha started kissing your head and rubbing your back, and you didn't understand why until you felt the tears leaving your eyes. You were crying.
Natasha hated it. She hated hearing how heartbroken you were. But at the same time, she loved it. You were hers. And she was yours.
"I love you Y/N. I'll be back before you know it."
"I love you, Natty. Please be careful."
_
Natasha wasn't even gone for two weeks. In fact, her time with Captain and Birdboy lasted a mere pair of days.
On day 3, Vision turned off his transponder.
Within 48 hours, half of everything was dust.
When Natasha found the others at the corpse of the synthezoid. Two people ran through Natasha's mind.
Yelena.
And you.
_
"Y/N!"
Natasha screamed as she busted open the door to your shared space. She threw her useless phone onto the counter as she ran through the living room, still in her uniform. Passing by the TV that sat on the emergency broadcast. "Y/N!" She called out again as she stopped at the bedroom door. "Please be here. Please be alive.."
Natasha had tears in her eyes as she slowly opened the bedroom door. Her breath left her lips in a gasp before she blinked away tears that were escaping. She carefully made her way to the bed and sat down.
You turned over as you felt the bed shift. Then you opened your eyes when you felt Natasha's presence. "Natasha? Natasha!" You sprung up from the bed and collided into her body.
You both wept as the relief flooded your combined emotions. "You're alive..." Natasha whispered into your head before inhaling.
She grew to love your shampoo.
"I miss you." You said. "Don't worry, Detka. I'm here. I'm here." Natasha kissed the side of your head before leaning back and kissing your mouth.
God, she missed your lips and the softness of your cheeks as you tried to hide your blush.
"I miss you." You repeated, confusing Natasha.
"Babe?" She pulled back and held your head in her hands. Her green eyes scanned your beautiful face and saw nothing wrong until a speck of dust flew off your nose. "No.." Natasha whispered with pain. "Y/N." She kept your face in her hands as little by little. You ceased to exist. "Y/N!" Her hands started to be covered.
"I miss you."
"Y/N, please no! No! Please!"
"I miss-" "Stop it!" "Nata-"
"No!" She screamed and screamed as you vanished until she woke up thrashing in her bed at the compound. Alone. Gun drawn and ready...
"Whatever it takes..." Whispered by you... Is this the last thing Natasha always heard when she woke up from her nightmares..
Natasha looks around the room with bags under her red, dried eyes and chapped lips. She struggles every day to live. She hates herself for leaving.
She hates that the last thing you told her was, "be careful."
She is hurt. Alone. Scared.
She misses you.
Every day, she tries and uses her resources to find a way to bring everyone back. But so far, she's always coming up empty-handed.
The worst part is, is that even after three years of you being gone. Natasha never told anyone. You were a secret to everyone else.
But to Natasha, you were everything.
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dividers by @/benkeibear & @/firefly-graphics
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lucysarah-c · 5 months
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There seems to be a bit of debate within the fandom about whether Isayama stated that Erwin is handsome while Levi isn't, or if Erwin was based on Captain America, and so on.
What I'll offer you is my personal take on the matter, as someone who not only happens to be a woman but also, sadly, a woman who likes men (lol) but also as someone with plenty of friends who share that preference.
Let me preface this by saying that I don't intend for this post to be seen as definitive proof or canon, derived from specific panels or interviews. No, this is simply my humble opinion, based on one thing: my perspective as a woman.
Now, if Isayama believes that Erwin resembles Captain America due to his care for his appearance, and thus is deemed more conventionally attractive, that's fine. But let's remember, Isayama is a MAN. When has a man ever accurately grasped what women truly find appealing?
Sure, Erwin may be tall, handsome, and blond. I'll admit, I even find Erwin attractive. But do you know any girls who go wild over that? No, girls aren't going to Marvel movies for Thor or Captain America (well, maybe some are). They're there for Loki, the Winter Soldier. Men seem to think girls thrist over Captain America's abs, when in reality, I've witnessed more girls giggling over Bambi's dad and his deep voice. Girls don't fantasize about Captain America; they're watching Peaky Blinders or Pride and Prejudice, yearning for a Tommy Shelby to size them up, cigarette and whiskey in hand, with that Birmingham accent asking, "Are you a whore? If not, you're in the wrong place." We want Daemon Targaryen beheading someone who dared insult us.
In my own fanfic, I don't deny that characters like Mike, Erwin, Reiner, Zeke, and all the "conventionally attractive guys" are attractive. But Levi? He's known as the strongest thug in the underground, yet he's also the man who rescued a young girl lost in the streets. In a den of violence and depravity, Levi was both tough and compassionate. I'd wager Levi had the bitches making lines.
The perfect example of this is Zeke admitting he's "not popular with girls." It's like the guy who posts a frustrated TikTok because his gym crush is dating someone edgy. He's the type who wonders, "Why that twig and not me?" Well, sweetheart, because that "edgy" guy is caring and probably knows how to make a woman come better than you. He's so secure in his masculinity that he doesn't need to prove it.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Levi embodies the female gaze because he's what girls want. I'm not claiming this as gospel truth or canon. I'm simply explaining why it seems obvious to me that Levi would still be attractive and desired within the walls—just like how many girls these days prefer Cillian Murphy over Chris Hemsworth.
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justwinginglife · 2 months
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What Lies After?
Y'all, spoilers- it's a depressing one and I'm so sorry in advance. I promise I'll post something more wholesome later.
You're dying.
You're dying and Soshiro can't do a damn thing about it.
Amidst the chaos of people pulling each other from the rubble, medics running to and fro, and other soldiers groaning in pain as they writhe in the dirt waiting to see if death or the medics will claim them first, he can still hear the situation you're facing a couple feet away from him (in fact, it's the only thing he can hear at this point). You're never far away from him, he would never allow it. He doesn't know what it's like to not be by your side. But he can't reach you. He's badly injured himself and though he gave crawling a good, hard attempt, his bruised, bleeding organs won't allow him to get any closer to you though he's already pleaded and begged them to. He'd plead to anyone who'd hear him, who'd save you. The doctors, the gods, the devil himself.
The sound of the defibrillator thumping at your lifeless body is deafening to him. He can hear his own heartbeat vying for attention as it thunders in his ears and he wishes it would shut up and let him join you.
He wipes blood from his eyes, as it's started to drip down his forehead, he's desperate to see you better. Even if the color has drained from your face he still thinks you're the most beautiful thing ever placed on this Earth. His weak eyes widen slightly, as much as they have the energy to, as he sees the doctors starting to pull away from you. He sees the resigned looks on their faces, though muddled by his own tears, and he thinks he might just choke on his own lungs when he finally brings himself to look at the unforgiving, unbudging line of what was your heartbeat flattened against the cold screen of the monitor.
He stops looking at you. You're not there anymore. He's got nothing left to look at, nothing left to look forward to.
He lays down flat again, pressing his back up against the dirt, and peering at the sky while he still can, his eyelids getting heavier with each aching breath. I'll be there soon, love, wait for me.
He thinks about your laugh. How you'd probably say something about how we shouldn't waste the chance to enjoy such a bright blue sky. How we have to seize the day. And then you'd seize his hand and take off running, laughing and laughing, the way you always do. The way you always did.
Why was the sky so damn blue today?? How dare it be a perfect, clear day when nothing about this day was perfect or clear?
You would've loved today. If you weren't... gone.
He'd always make fun of people who used euphemisms. Just be honest, and say they're dead if they're dead. None of this "kicked the bucket" or "gone to a better place" bullshit. They're dead. But he can't bring himself to think that about you. He settles on "gone to a better place." Darling, save me a spot up there, won't you?
He lifts his fingers weakly and waves at the sky and what is presumably heaven.
He's never thought about religion before, but now every torn, exhausted fiber of his being hopes to every god out there that there is a heaven and that you're waiting impatiently at the door for him, tapping your foot and rolling your eyes but still grinning nonetheless. "Welcome home, Soshiro." You'd say with open arms.
"He's crashing."
He wonders if God will let the two of you have that house that you'd always dreamed of. He's sure God could spare a house or two for the love of his life especially when you're such an angel. He's made up his mind that God definitely wouldn't be able to resist a cutie like you if you asked nicely.
"Get him under control now, I'm not losing another one, damnit!!"
He wonders if you're an angel now. You always did believe in angels. You always believed in everything good and pure and wonderful like the saint you were. He smiles at the thought of you with a little glowing halo above your head and a white flowing gown. He'd kill to see you again. He'd die to see you again.
"Vice Captain, don't you quit on us!"
He wants to quit. He will. He'll do it. He doesn't know who said that but it wasn't you so he doesn't much care. He misses you so much. He misses you. What he'd give to hold you again, to smell your hair- you thought he wouldn't noticed that you'd changed your shampoo recently but he did. He never got to tell you he liked the new shampoo. He never got to tell you a lot of things. His trembling fingers move towards his pocket where he knows the ring is sitting snug against his leg but he stops himself. He doesn't want to touch it. He can't take it, it might kill him if he thinks about whatever future you might've had together. It might kill him. He touches it.
Everything goes white. Your face is coming into view now. He can almost see you fully, your hair bouncing in the wind, your sparkling eyes gleaming at him, your full lips waiting to be reunited with his. Just a little longer baby, I'm coming.
"We've got a pulse! He's stabilizing. He's going to make it!"
No.
Fuck.
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icypopz · 10 months
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caught in 4k ♡
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↬ request from anon ; I love your writing for blue lock and i was wondering if you could write a Rin x actress reader when they're adults and they get caught by the media somehow. ↬ notes ; itoshi rin x gn reader ↬ from ice ; pretends like i haven't been gone for months... anyways here's my grand comeback that literally no one asked for but this req was so cute i rlly wanted to write it 🥹 hope u enjoy ! ↬ warning(s) ; none
please reblog w comments ! it helps a lot :)
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itoshi rin has always been a private person. he rarely shares anecdotes from his life with his friends, let alone the paparazzi. his fans constantly complain that they're starved for content, because despite the fact that he's one of the most famous football players in the world, he somehow manages to keep his schedule entirely under wraps and often downright refuses to do interviews. (the only way to get him on camera is to invite him for a joint interview with sae.)
his tendency to keep his personal life a secret is exactly why it comes as such a shock when it's revealed that he's dating you.
actually, 'revealed' is the wrong word to use when in reality, the both of you were spotted leaving a popular restaurant together by a pesky journalist. he snapped pictures of rin holding your hand, offering you his jacket, opening the car door for you... and the next morning they were all over the internet, splashed across the front page of all the major news websites. #itoshi rin is in a relationship?! was the number one trending topic for days.
the amount of attention showered upon the two of you is actually unsurprising, considering how you've been at the peak of fame ever since you recently took on a role that went viral. pair that with the fact that you're dating the most mysterious football player? it's a miracle they didn't hear about it in space! both your fanbases were gushing about how adorable you are together and they're always eager for crumbs of interaction between you two in public.
in private, rin groans and grumbles about how annoying it is to have a spotlight shining on your dating life, but he's secretly happy that you both don't have to hide your relationship anymore now that it's out in the open. he likes the idea that everyone knows he's yours, and you're his.
in public, he's as aloof and cold as ever to every enthusiastic interviewer that dares cross his path. the only time he visibly softens is when they mention you, and a hint of a smile will curve his lips. rin gets angry if they even imply that you're leeching off his fame, or you're a gold-digger, or you're trying to get close to his brother through him - he never fails to set the record straight immediately. the two of you love each other, and maybe these journalists' time would be better spent trying to find someone to love them instead of trying to ruin someone else's relationship. (his pr manager is at her wits' end).
overall, rin is not too bothered by the fact that your relationship ended up becoming public knowledge. of course he would have preferred it to be on both of your terms, but now that it's happened he just rolls with it. as long as you're happy, he's happy.
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help i swear i'll be active now HAHAHA i won't disappear for a year again ,,, and btw i cannot believe my last post was over a year ago tf
✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠 © icypopz 2023. do not repost or modify in any way.
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baronessvonglitter · 3 months
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Darlin’ Cowgirl
Jack Daniels x f!reader
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Word count: 3.1K
Summary: looking for a way out of a bachelorette party, an accidental butt dial becomes a booty call
WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit and Mature, friends/coworkers to lovers, reader is at least 21, tipsy flirting/dancing, improper use of a mechanical bull, semi-public sex, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, smut, dash of romance with a happily ever after, no use of y/n, reader has hair and wears a dress
Author's Note: this was the first one-shot I'd ever written on AO3 and decided to post here as well 🤠🥃
JACK DANIELS MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST
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You aren't looking forward to the bachelorette party. You don't even like weddings, yet somehow you've been roped into being part of your old college roommate's wedding party simply because you ran into her at the grocery store a few months back. It was only when you had the bridal shower that you realized you were one of thirteen bridesmaids. Great. Now you'll feel even more invisible than you already do.
You've been in a slump lately, and the only thing bringing out of it is your devilishly handsome coworker Jack Daniels, aka Agent Whiskey. You're an Information Security Specialist for the Statesmen, an ultra-secret espionage agency, so naturally you keep the details of your job pretty hush-hush. Whiskey, as you affectionately call him, is one of your few confidantes, despite the fact that he flirts with you at every turn. You admit to yourself that it's a nice distraction from your loneliness, even if you feel his flirtatiousness is just a bit of fun for him, his own distraction.
You take your time in dressing up for the night: a spaghetti strap black minidress with a plunging neckline and silver cowgirl boots. At the bar you meet up with your fellow bridesmaids and the bride-to-be, who are all in shades of pink and white, near exact replicas of each other, nearly indistinguishable. You stick out like a sore thumb and you know it.
The bridesmaids want to take shots so you take some with them, hoping your anxiety will dilute just a little. Your inhibitions are lowered just a little, but not enough to go out to the dance floor with the others. You watch as others watch them, in admiration as they laugh and gracefully (despite the Buttery Nipple shots they'd all consumed just minutes ago) and wish you could be part of them. You hang back at the bar, politely declining offers to dance from men who come by to not-so-subtly ogle you. You feel like a piece of meat. Perhaps it was a bad idea to come out, knowing you hate places like this. However, just as you're about to order a Lyft, you get an incoming call from Whiskey himself.
Confused and blushing you go to a quieter place of the bar, which is still very loud. "Hello?" you practically shout into the phone.
"Hey darlin'!" you hear Jack's voice on the other end. "You called me?"
"Um.. no, I didn't.."
He chuckles, warm and low in your ear. "Yes you did, darlin'. I was hopin' you were okay."
You quickly check your call log and sure enough, you'd called him about fifteen minutes ago, when you and the bridesmaids were doing shots. "I must have butt-dialed you," you shout back, giggling.
"Aw, lucky me," he drawls. "That pretty ass was thinkin' about me?"
You're too flustered to reply.
"Where are you anyway? Loud as hell over there."
"I'm at a bar for a bridesmaid party."
"That one you were talkin' about earlier today? No invite, huh?"
You giggle again. "It's for women only."
"Exactly! That's my kinda good time!" You hear him chuckle again.
"Actually it's kinda lame. I'm thinking of calling it a night."
"Don't you dare," he says with mock authority. "Wait there a minute and I'll be on my way. Text me the address."
You hang up and text him, wondering what he's up to. You've never hung out with him after work, even with all the flirting you've both done. You think it's strictly professional with a touch of playfulness, but you've never been one hundred percent sure.
You hang out at the bar, wanting to be visible to him when he arrives, but it's only after you're returned from the ladies' room checking your makeup, outfit and hair, that you see him, well the back of him, and he's mingling with some of the bridesmaids, who are obviously taking a much-needed alcohol break from dancing.
You gently touch his shoulder. "Hey there, stranger."
He turns, smiling, and the look in his eyes becomes one of pure lust. He drinks you in, unabashedly. "Damn darlin', you look so good it hurts," he drawls.
You glance at the bridesmaids, most of whom are checking him out with flagrant interest. "Did you meet everyone? Kaitlyn's the bride-to-be," you introduce them.
"I have, and her husband's one lucky sonofabitch, if I may say so," he places a gentlemanly kiss on the bride's hand and she in turn blushes. "Who's your friend?" she asks.
"A coworker," you say mysteriously, glancing at Jack, who has now turned his whole attention to you.
"You wanna dance, darlin'?" he asks, extending his hand to you.
Your stomach drops, just because you're pretty shy about dancing, and if anything you'd like to leave him with the impression that you can at least move in rhythm. "Maybe the next song," you suggest. "But first, how about a couple of shots? On me."
He smiles and shakes his head. "Darlin', I can't allow that. My treat," he insists, and orders a couple shots of whiskey for you and him.
"Had to be whiskey, huh?" you tease him, taking the shot glass in your hand.
"Of course." He lifts his glass to yours for a toast. "To coworkers getting to know each other better," he says, and there's a twinkle in his deep brown eyes that's hard to miss.
"To getting to know each other better," you grin and down the shot. It's like fire in your throat and stomach.
"Too much for ya to handle?" he teases, having downed his with ease.
"Depends.. which Whiskey are you talking about?" you tease back, feeling a little surge of confidence that either comes from Jack or from the shot.
"You're a little firecracker," he says in a low voice, his eyes blatantly going over every line and curve of your face, and downwards to eyeball your neck, the curve of your breasts. You wonder what he's imagining.
"Firecrackers are fun but dangerous," you warn him with a cheeky smile.
"We both know I'm all about that danger. Ain't nothin' I can't handle.." a subtle lift of his brows suggests he means more than mere flirtation.
"Is that a challenge?" You step closer to him, and the scent of his cologne, notes of leather and tobacco, catches your attention.
He notices your stance, the way you've shifted from a sweetheart wallflower to a provocative temptress. "What if it is?" he whispers into your ear, his breath tickling your skin and raising goosebumps on your flesh.
You follow his lead and whisper into his own ear, your lips grazing his cheek. "Then I accept.." you keep the ghost of a kiss upon his freshly shaven cheek and slowly pull back, looking into his eyes and seeing a newly effected desire there. "Dance with me." You bring him out to the floor, having completely lost sight of the bridesmaids. Nothing exists now but you and Jack and this chemistry that's been building between you.
His hands are on your hips as "Neon Moon" starts to play, a slow and soulful song that suits the mood you're both in. The colored lights sweep across the room, casting blue and scarlet and amber glows across the crowd. You're lost in each other, in the touch of his hands on your hips, the way he caresses them, loving their shape. You rest your hands on his broad, strong shoulders.
"You're a good dancer, Jack. You know what they say about men who are good dancers," you tell him suggestively.
"Really? What do they think, Gorgeous?" He pulls you even closer so your bodies are practically flush together.
"That they're good in bed," you answer with an arch of your brow, as if to imply it was beyond your belief.
He looks at you like a man looking at his first meal in a week of starvation. "Do you want to find out just how good of a.. dancer I am?"
Heat blooms across your body, and your pussy clenches in response. It only takes a moment to imagine what it would be like, riding this cowboy. You see him and you realize you have him right where you want him. "There is something I've been dying to ride.." you gently tug his shirt to bring him closer, as if in a kiss..
For a moment he looks like he's going to melt from the heat coming off you. "Oh yeah, darlin'? And what exactly is that?" he smirks.
Your face lights up. "That mechanical bull!" You grab Jack's hand and lead him across the huge barroom to the line to ride the bull. Sneaking a look at his face, Whiskey looks bewildered, but manages to cover it just in time. "That stupid thing? I can think of something more fun to ride," he smirks again and you resist the urge to drag him outside and let him have his way with you in the alleyway.
You only smirk back at him as the operator calls you to come forward and get atop the bull. Getting on top is easy, but staying on will be hard. As soon as you're situated, the bull starts spinning and bucking, slowly at first to let you get your bearings. You laugh and hold on, your body moving with the bull, anticipating its every move. Your hips grind down to the leather, thighs locked tight as you move your pelvis forward. Catching Whiskey's eye you blow him a kiss.
Seeing that the ride is winding down, he goes up to the operator and pays him to let you go again. This time, apparently on Whiskey's orders, the ride goes slower, allowing you to continue your little show for Jack. Keeping eye contact with him, you imagine it's him beneath you. Suddenly you gasp as you realize the bull is moving faster, and you watch as Jack's expression turns dark, lustful. You bite your lip as the speed increases. Pleasure pools in your belly, more specifically between your thighs, and the first stirrings of pleasure begin to radiate outward to your limbs, You rear your head back, face pointed up in ecstasy, and a rolling thunder starts in your veins.
You don't realize it until it's happening but you're being led away by Whiskey to a small corridor where no one can see you, and buries his face in your neck. "Tell me to stop if that's what you want," he says, his voice strained. "But by all that's holy, you are the hottest god damn thing I've ever seen."
But by then your leg is already hooked around his hip, shamelessly rubbing against him, the pleasure from the bull ride still fresh in your body. "I don't want you to stop," you whisper.
He growls low in his throat, which you dare to kiss, grazing your teeth across his skin. He gives a sharp hiss, and when he presses against you you feel proof of his desire, as if you needed any more. His hand goes beneath the hem of your dress and slides up, finding the edge of your lace panties. "Black?" he murmurs, his lips still against your neck.
"How did you know?"
You feel the curve of his smile against your skin. "I always know." His fingers trace your inner thighs before dipping into your heated, slick cunt. "Christ woman, you're soaking wet. For me." With his fingers inside you he kisses you, and you tip your face up to lean into his kiss, He slowly pumps two thick fingers inside as he slips his tongue into your mouth, mimicking the movements, earning a deep moan then a whimper from you.
"Watching you ride that bull, I just know it was me you were thinkin' of," he whispers huskily against your ear. "God damn if you aren't the most gorgeous thing I ever laid eyes on,, been wantin' you a long time, darlin'."
Through the haze of desire you smile, finding the temerity to feel touched by his words. "Took you long enough to show it," you tease, cupping the back of his head as you kiss, leaning against the wall as he fingers your wetness.
He groans again. "As much as I want to continue, I'd like to find a more comfortable place to fuck you." He pauses to look to you for consent. "That is, if you still want this."
You reply by palming his rigid cock, already threatening to poke through his tailored trousers. "I absolutely do.."
In a flurry of movement he brings you outside. The bachelorette party is the last thing on your mind, if you even still remember it, All you can think of is being with Jack. He leads you to his truck, the spacious backseat warm and inviting. He's on you again as that door is closed, His mouth finds yours, tongue claiming you. "I want to be gentle, but I don't think I have it in me right now," he admits.
You shake your head. "I'm not asking for gentle, I'm asking you to fuck me, Jack."
You've never called him by his name before, never been so informal with him, but the look in his eyes tells you it's perfectly all right by him. He lays you down on the seat. "Can I get a little taste of ya, darlin'? Been wonderin' what you'd taste like since the day we met."
This draws a sweet whimper from you, to hear he'd always wanted you. "God yes, please.."
He gingerly removes your panties, kissing his way back up your calves and thighs once they're off. You blush when he breathes in your scent. His hands cup the backs of your thighs, hooking them over his shoulders and you can't help but feel exposed. "Christ.. woman, you're gonna be the death of me," he mutters before taking off his hat and leaning in to devour you.
You give a sharp gasp as you lean your head back against the seat, hands mussing his hair as he laps at your wet cunt, licking up your folds and dipping his tongue inside you. He gently laps at your clit, using more pressure with each lick until he cups his lips around it and sucks, listening to how much you like it, how much more you need.
"Fuck!" you shout, a victorious roar as you feel yourself so close to that edge, and Whiskey is happy to let you use him for your pleasure. His tongue draws shapes upon your clit, alternating between swiping with his tongue and suckling it. Only when you come and he sweeps across every fold to drink up your juices does he stop.
You practically push him down, effectively trading places with him as you kneel before him. "My turn.."
His gaze turns dark even as his face lights up. "Hell, I'm not sayin' no to that, darlin'."
Smiling, you undo his trousers and pull them down with his briefs. His cock springs out, thick and long, perfectly curved, smooth, perfect. "God, I just knew you'd have a big dick.." you whisper, tracing with your tongue from root to head.
Whiskey exhales, watching you work on him. He palms the back of your head but doesn't urge you any further than what's comfortable for you. You use your hand to stroke his base while getting the first few inches of him into your mouth, daring to deep-throat him, wanting to see that look on his face, wanting to see him go crazy for you.
"Jesus, darlin'. I'm so on edge right now I might just burst if you keep doin' that," he chuckles. "Get on up here and ride me, gorgeous."
You feel your heart pound in every extremity of your body, especially your cunt, as you get up and straddle him, hiking up your dress. He stops you a moment and caresses your cheek. "This okay with you, darlin'? I have protection if you prefer.."
You smile and shake your head. "I'm on birth control, and I'm clean."
He smiles back. "Ah good. I'm clean too, darlin'." You know it has to be true, as the agents do periodic physicals and are prohibited from missions for the slightest findings.
Kissing him, you rise over him, using your hands to find him and bring him into you. He slides in without any resistance, and you take your time trying to get as much of him inside as you can. "Fuck, Jack," you whisper as he fills you.
Through the pleasure of connecting your bodies he smirks. "Is that an order?"
You giggle a little. "Looks like I'm the one doing the fucking." Just as you say that, he pushes up from under you, moving you up, filling you up just a little bit more. "God!!"
Sinking his teeth in to his lower lip he grabs onto your hips and moves you how he wants, watching your body for clues on what you like and what you want more of. He pulls the front of your dress down and frees your breasts, suckling on each nipple at a time as you melt on top of him, inadvertently letting more of him inside. He's fucking you and you're fucking him.
You grab his hat from the seat next to you and put it on yourself, riding your cowboy. Whiskey watches you, whispering your name, calling you his Cowgirl, bucking his hips up into you until he bottoms out, then lifting you with long strokes until you push him down to grind down. His thumb flicks over your clit, swirling the letters of your name and his, hearing your wild moans and shuddering sighs. You've never come so hard or so fast. You feel the first fluttery feelings deep within, and they shoot through your veins, lighting up your entire nervous system, and you scream his name as your cunt clenches spasmodically around his cock, and soon you feel him spill his cum deep inside you, spurting its warmth to your insides.
It takes a moment for you to come back to earth, and when you do, Whiskey is kissing you, tenderly, with the remainder of the passion you two just shared. "That was.. wow," you sigh, feeling shy around him now, of all times.
"It was spectacular, darlin'. I hope you know I'm gonna want you again," he puts his forehead to yours.
"Is that so?" You blush with elation.
"Of course darlin'. I'm hopin' to make this a long-term association, if you're so willin'. But on one condition."
You raise a brow. "Already calling the shots, huh? What's the condition?"
"That the only thing you ride is me. Ain't no way I'm being upstaged by a damn mechanical bull ever again."
You laugh, and he loves the sound of it. "We'll put a pin in that conversation."
He strokes your hair. The electric light from the bar sign lights up the inside of the truck, magenta and cyan. "You comin' home with me tonight, Cowgirl?"
You smile and give him a soft kiss. "You bet, Cowboy."
divider by @saradika-graphics 👑
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silasours · 6 months
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ৎ⸝⸝⠀DETECTIVE AND MURDERER IN HELL . —
#pairing : alastor x gn reader. #cw : may include adult content. enemies to lovers trope. #summary : you were a detective when you were a human! but uh oh, you died.. and you meet the target that you were on to before your death? #note : I feel bad for not posting for so long, here's a little sneak peek at what I'm working on! i received this prompt from an anon in my inbox and do i love it very much. i have so many ideas for this fic, it'll be my first ever long fic on this blog! i'll reply to the ask once I'm done with the fic :3
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“my, isn’t it my favorite detective!” you hear a static, loud voice speak from behind you. you quirk a brow, slowly turning your head to see a demon that somehow resembles a deer. a red deer, that is. he wears this wide smile that stretches from ear to ear, his whole attire so formal it makes you question if you’re underdressed. he holds a cane in his hands; it looks like a speaker that he got custom-made. confusion bubbles inside of you, and multiple questions float across your mind. who is this man, that so happens to know what you work as when you were still alive?
and, out of all demons, why are you his favorite?
“I’m sorry, but have we met?” you turn your body to face him fully, your eyes scanning from head to toe wondering if it’s just a fuzzy memory of yours. the demon steps closer to you, a sense of uneasiness instantly rushes through your veins. you shudder suddenly..
“aha, of course we have! you were even so interested in me back when we were alive!” his words only made your confusion grow. you, being interested in someone? in what way? your work has never allowed you any extra space to catch feelings for anyone around you, so surely it’s not a crush unless you’ve misunderstood. It’s like he read your thoughts, he quickly adds in with a light chuckle.
“constantly trying to gather information about me, pinpointing my location, guessing my next move. fun times! I truly enjoyed watching you do so.” something clicked in your head. so this demon was presumably a target of yours before he died, but how could you know exactly which? you had so many targets, so many psychopaths you had to track down and lock them up for good. though, something about his deer features brings a blurry memory of a specific target that you currently can’t quite put a name to his face.
everyone in the hotel watches your interaction with the red demon quietly. the air is tense, nobody dared to breathe any harder than they are now. charlie is the most anxious one out of everyone in the room; angel is starting to doubt whether he should’ve brought you back to the hotel. but, surely, the manager is smarter than to kill off someone interested in staying, no?
“care to remind me which one are you?” your hands instinctively hide themselves in your pockets as a habit. your tone isn’t as friendly as it was when you spoke to the others, and the demon is loving the reaction he’s getting from you.
“gladly, my dear friend! i’d say my case was the one you spent the most time on,” you suddenly feel a strong tug on your hand before realizing that you’re shaking hands with the demon. his smile widens as you grow more uncomfortable. “the name’s alastor! pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure! I was there to witness your lovely slash boring death,”
you pull your hand back from his grasp, face scrunching at the mention of your death. he witnessed your death? what is he hinting? Is he trying to tell you that it was he who took the life of yours?
“I watched as you were murdered by one petty man i convinced, it was one of the most boring deaths i’ve ever seen! but dear, was i disappointed that you’ll never be able to put a close to my case when i thought you’d do better at fighting back.” you freeze suddenly, blood running cold from your face as he carries on.
“I was the last target you had before dying, it was a joy toying with you like a little mouse.”
so that’s what all the familiarity you felt was. his demeanor and personality, all that was jotted down in the notebook you had for research. he matches everything you wrote; you remember word by word from the number of times you’ve reread it, the times at night when you’re desperate to finally put the case to a stop. you feel anger and disgust pound in your chest, feet stepping back a couple of times.
he’s the reason why you died. you stare at his mocking smile, his expression that clearly shows his enjoyment while watching your reaction. a growl bubbles from your chest, and you see the spider demon hesitantly approach you. he stays beside you, rubbing his arm nervously while trying to think of a reason to pull you away from this scene.
“I died because of you,” you breathe out, body shaking not from fear but anger and realization. you suddenly leap forward when angel is about to reach out for your arm, your fingers curl tightly around the collar of alastor’s shirt. his smile only widens at your actions, a light hum that slides out so smoothly and audibly. “and it was purely for fun?” it’s even possible to notice every small feature you have on your face from how close you’ve pulled his face to yours. you earn a mere shrug from the demon.
“woah! babes, hey, calm down would’ja? let’s head somewhere else.” you feel a tug at your arm, but you don’t budge. you want to hurt this demon, to beat him until he’s curled up into a ball on the ground, but you can’t. there’s something holding you back, something telling you to not go any further than what you’re currently doing. he reeks of danger and mystery, hell knows what would he do to you if you were to cross his line. with another growl, you harshly push him away and he stumbles back a few steps with a small ‘oh!’.
angel sees this and takes the chance to quickly drag you away from the scene, and you let him. Everyone in the hall watches angel drag you all the way to the kitchen until alastor is out of your sight. his clawed fingers release your arm, a concerned gaze fixated on your slumping figure as you let out a deep sigh while pressing your face onto the surface of your palms.
now, you’ll really have to think it through whether you want to stay in this hotel. having so many things to take in so suddenly messes up your thoughts, something you’re unfamiliar with considering how you’re always sharp and organized.
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© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.
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TKATB: More theories! Yay!
This most certainly will contain spoilers for Days 1 and 2 of @fantasia-kitt 's 'The Kid At The Back', along with containing mentions of material found on her Twitter (https://twitter.com/fantasia_kitt).
WILL HAVE SPOILERS! IF YOU HAVEN'T PLAYED THROUGH DAYS 1 AND 2, I RECOMMEND FINISHING THEM FIRST.
Quite a lot of these may allude to the ones I posted a week(?) ago, but my brain has brained REALLY HARD (almost as hard as when I get when I see Geo) and I think I have more ideas/more specified ideas of what could happen.
- So, I am correct in assuming the fact that the Hallow's Ball is on Day 5 (because Day 1 is in fact Monday); now this might be a stretch, in fact, it probably is, but due to the fact the Higher Class paid a visit to the school, maybe some of them might show up? Or maybe the people who bullied Brittney (think the food fight route) try to publically humiliate her or something, because something tells me she's got a lot of enemies, and something pretty bad is gonna happen to her.
- Geo is mentioned to have been disqualified due to 'accidentally' shooting an arrow at another person and it cutting their hair. Jess mentions we'd have to go 'next year' to see him partake again, so I'm gonna guess this competition is an annual thing. Maybe (and I'm assuming this as well) Geo and Hyugo were part of the Higher Class (because their dad works with the city's Founder, so that's gotta be High Class if I've ever heard it), but they were moved down. Geo is seemingly using archery to try and get selected to return back to the Higher Class, but if so, why get purposefully disqualified over almost potentially killing someone? Maybe, someone *really* pissed him off, or maybe got him sent down for whatever reason (we know Geo has daddy issues so maybe his father treats him like shit because of it) and he's subtly trying to threaten them?
- Along with that, MC wonders why he didn't get arrested. Think about it, he's got money, a lot of it. Hyugo says how corrupt this city is, their father (I believe Geo is an illegitimate child, due to the mother cheating or smth idk) probably paid the cops to not give a shit.
- Hyugo also has a LOT of connections, is often MIA, and is in the student council, so he's got influence. (Maybe adding salt to Geo's wounds indirectly?) I have a feeling he goes MIA for his syndicate activities (he has access to sleeping pills); and maybe because he's part of the council and gets stupidly high ass grades, nobody questions it. Besides, he's probably got some sketchy operations going on to maintain it all.
- With Crowe asking about Marie Antoinette, I now feel that our 'responses' to whether she was a good or horrible person are things HE did. "She was ignorant, she raved while people were starving..." - MC to Crowe when choosing the 'She was a horrible person' choice. I'll ignore the latter part for now, because that was a normal thing for rich people to do at the time. But the ignorant part is interesting. Maybe the reason Crowe is so nice (and it's not a facade, according to Fantasia herself) is because he's trying to redeem himself? Sol, if you don't skip class and let him escort you, states: "Ichabod (Crowe's surname) it's always been you. I should have dealt with him years ago..." So, maybe, at some point, Crowe had a pristine relationship with his family, mother specifically, (he doesn't anymore) and the reasoning behind this is due to the fact he believed he was superior? Maybe he was even a bully at some point? Hell, maybe he even made fun of Sol, and Sol wants to obliterate him for it. He (Crowe) was making him (Sol), and now he is trying to steal his so(u)lmate?! How fucking dare he?!
- Brittney also states that she's astonished about how Deryl has almost no friends, so I think that's incredibly fascinating, because it's true. How does a bubbly, happy jock like him get ignored by so many? Maybe because he helped Brittney (along with Jess) when she was low?
- Again, about Brittney, I feel that that frat party 2 years ago shattered her reputation, her image, everything. I bet some damaging info got spread about her and it led to her 'mysteriously' leaving the cheerleading squad, becoming more isolated and essentially (I'm assuming this) getting moved down with Jess. (Check previous one for why I think Jess got moved down as well, but tldr is she lost her shit, maybe got physical and it got her and Brittney sent to the worse school together). - On Fantasia's twitter, there's a Day 3 nsfw image of Sol essentially standing in front of a mirror with blood everywhere (ill link the slideshow that i have of every image i found/liked), anyway it's the right one on slide 9; with the caption "All I see are flaws"....so maybe if you ignore him on Day 3 and hang out with Crowe, he'll start losing his shit? Maybe thinking he isn't good enough? - Also, in the Day 2 NSFW scene, there are some prominent burn marks on Sol's back...does he get abused to this day? Does he live alone and they're scars?????? Maybe that's what he meant when he says "I've been dealt worse" in relation to the bullying? He does have history with them after all.
So. That's basically it, brain will continue to brain. Until then, ciao. (and yes the Geo fanfic is coming dw) Slides: https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1Wb_biHRk6g1gKj0WZ5XVwEtKGjFRTapDYerlEyhYPGE/edit#slide=id.g2cffd4cd112_0_34
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luxaryllis · 1 year
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hi!! if you're accepting requests rn could you pls write just pure angst of azul with a younger sibling who he was super close to before, but when their parents got divorced they grew distant bc the sibling went to live with their dad instead of with him and his mom. then a few years later sibling ends up attending nrc and azul recognizes them and is excited to talk to them again only to discover that they're not the same as before.
rlly loved your scared younger sibling fics. they gave me chest pains bc of how damn sad they were. keep up the good work :)
Brother Knows Best
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Note: OMG!! What is this!? I, Lux, FINALLY finishing something and posting it?! Has a miracle truly happened?!
Anyway, I'll just write the sibling of this one as a year younger than Azul, and the sibling was also be an octopus merfolk. I'm going to mention the reader having interests in some stuff, so please don't get offended if it doesn't apply to you. You can always just replace the traits I put as a trait of yours!
And imma just use Ashengrotto as the family name, cuz idk if Ashengrotto was the last name of Azul's bio father, or step-father, or the maiden name of his mother.
Warning/s: Parents divorcing, Split custody, Angst, Spoilers to Azul's backstory and past, Spoilers to Azul's Ceremonial Robes vignettes, Reader is mentioned to have somewhat similar features to Azul (specific features aren't specified), Tell me if I missed anything
Full post under the cut!
-----
"Big brother! Why are you crying?" A slightly smaller mer-octopus swam closer with a concerned expression.
Azul, who was hiding in an octopus pot, looked up to his sweet and innocent little sibling. The 7-year-old boy's eyes soften, and Azul knew that it was only a matter of time before his baby sibling, [Name], would go through all the bullying and teasing as well.
But Azul didn't want that. He wanted [Name]'s cute smile to last forever. He wanted [Name] to not have to see and experience the horrors of simply being themself. He wanted to protect [Name] from everything and everyone who dared hurt them.
Azul's heart squeezed in his chest as he realizes that he can't. He can't protect [Name]. Azul couldn't even protect himself! He truly was... a weak, dumb, slow little octopus...
Tormented by his thoughts, Azul continued sobbing, hiding further into the octopus pot, hiding his chubby face from his little sibling.
"Don't look at me!!" Azul cries out, accidentally spitting out ink from his tentacles, staining the waters around them. The mess caused Azul to cry even more, the ugly black liquids reminding him of what the other kids told him.
[Name] frowns softly, they didn't know why their big brother was upset. The younger mer-octopus moves closer to the octo-pot, trying to coax their older brother to come out.
"Zul-ie.. what's wrong? I don't like seeing you sad..."
Upon receiving no response, the younger child purses their lips in a pout.
"Come onnn...! Mom and dad made dinner! They made fried chicken! Your favorite!!"
---
"Big brother!! Look, look! Wanna hear this song I learned on the piano?!"
Piano keys played a gorgeous melody under [Name]'s fingers, and Azul watched with wide eyes full of wonder and pride. Azul felt a small sense of envy in him, but he couldn't find it in himself to acknowledge the jealousy, because Azul was too proud of his younger sibling to do that.
And yet...
As [Name] learned more and more, Azul couldn't help but feel... left behind.
As though [Name] doesn't need him anymore.
But... but that isn't true right? [Name] needs Azul... right...?
As days and years pass by, nagging feelings of envy and worthlessness bubble up in Azul as he watches his sibling shine.
'I should be proud of them,' he thinks to himself as his mind wanders while he was studying.
---
'Mom and dad don't love each other anymore...'
Those were the thoughts in the two siblings' heads while they listened to their parents argue for what felt like the umpteenth time. And today, it seemed as though everyone in the house had finally had enough of the screams and shouts.
Around a month or so later, the Ashengrotto family were in court, for a divorce trial. It was a somewhat long process, but the judge's words hit the two children like a truck.
"Mrs. Ashengrotto is to be given custody over Azul Ashengrotto. Whilst Mr. Ashengrotto is to be given custody over [Name] Ashengrotto."
When the Ashengrotto family split up, Azul and [Name] were desperately trying to stay together. It went to the point that their parents had to pull the crying siblings apart because [Name] and their father had to leave.
"Big brother!!! NO!!"
"[Name]!!! Don't leave me please!!"
---
"DON'T LEAVE ME!!"
Azul wakes up with a start, sitting up from the bed with wide eyes and heavy breathing. His hair was frazzled in a bedhead, and he quickly looks around.
The Octavinelle Dorm Leader recognizes his dorm room, and breathes a sigh. Not one of relief, but one of exhaustion. Azul reaches to his bedside table and takes his glasses, putting them on as he checks the clock. 5 am.
Next to the clock, Azul sees the small picture he placed. A family picture of him, his mother, his father, and his younger sibling. It was taken before his parents had divorced. When they were all happy...
Azul stares at his younger sibling in the picture, yearning to see them again. He reaches out a bit, but stops himself and shakes his head. 'Now is not the time', he thinks to himself. He shakily stands up and starts getting ready for the welcoming ceremony of the new first years of NRC.
Azul leaves the room and passes by Jade and Floyd's shared room. The house-warden could hear Floyd's complaining through the door and he sighs, knocking on the door and speaking.
"Floyd, would you stop complaining? Jade and I have to get ready for the Welcoming Ceremony, and you and the others have to start preparing for the welcome party for our new first years."
Almost immediately, Floyd replies with a slight whiney tone. "Says the person who wasn't wrung out like a rag for some lotion! I can barely walk!!" Azul could almost hear the pout in Floyd's voice and sighs in exasperation, listening to Jade trying to calm his brother down.
Deciding to leave the twin eels alone, Azul starts to walk away and head to the Lounge to make sure the preparations are going smoothly. As he walked, his mind can't help but wander to thoughts like if he and his own younger sibling would have a similar dynamic to Jade and Floyd. Hm, or would their dynamic be more like Idia's and Ortho's? Likely not, perhaps.
These thoughts weighed in Azul's mind, and he feels himself shaking his head, trying to rid himself of those thoughts. He hasn't seen his younger sibling for a long time; but Azul certainly hopes that [Name] didn't have such a drastic change like he did.
For some reason, Azul couldn't bear the thought of his previously happy-go-lucky and outgoing [Name] to be anything else other than such a happy mer-octopus. It was wishful thinking, but what kind of older brother would he be if he didn't wish only the best for his younger sibling?
---
When the time came for the Welcoming Ceremony to begin, the Housewardens (exceot for Malleus Draconia, who likely didn't receive the invitation, Azul thinks) were all lined in a circle surrounding the mirror, waiting for students to be sorted into their own dorms.
As each student was being sorted to their dorms, Azul takes the time to look at each student that seemed to catch his attention. None seemed very relevant thus far, maybe a few people he could exploit here and there.
"Next student!"
A student dressed in the NRC Ceremonial Robes stepped out of the crowd of the unsorted first-years. Their hood was on and casting a shadow down their face as they walked towards the mirror.
"State thy name." The mirror said when the student stepped up.
Suddenly, the student spoke a name that ran a shiver down Azul's spine. A name that Azul never thought he would hear no matter how much he wished to hear.
"[Name] Ashengrotto."
Jade raised an eyebrow and turned to Azul curiously, and some other students who recognized the last name also snuck some glances to the Octavinelle Dormleader. Azul could vaguely hear Idia's voice through the floating tablet, saying things like, 'Plot twist?!', but he paid no heed to it.
Azul's eyes were wide, and his mouth was lightly agape in surprise. His younger sibling... studying in NRC?!?
Questions ran through Azul's head in that moment. How is his younger sibling doing? Do they still like to play the piano? Or perhaps they still continued collecting those sea shells? Did [Name] still want to be a singer when they grew up? Do they still enjoy chasing their tentacles like a dog liked chasing its tail? Do they still have that same smile they always did; the one that brightened any room they were in and made their eyes glimmer like the stars land-folk liked to gaze at?
The Dark Mirror spoke again, "The shape of they soul is..."
Azul was beside himself with worry and anticipation. What dorm would his younger sibling be sorted into?
'Octavinelle, Octavinelle, Octavinelle', Azul chanted in his head, hoping for the Dark Mirror to sort [Name] in the dorm he was in.
"... Octavinelle!"
It took almost everything in Azul not to let out a sigh of relief, but he was celebrating in his mind. Suddenly remembering that he was the Dorm Leader of Octavinelle, he stepped up and made himself known to his beloved younger sibling.
Azul mustered up an amicable smile (and those who knew him were rather surprised at how genuine Azul's smile looked), and spoke. "Welcome to Octavinelle, right this way please."
[Name], not having realized who the person underneathe the hood was, nodded and walked to the crowd of Octavinelle students, waiting for the Welcoming Ceremony to be over.
---
After a rather tiring Welcoming Ceremony, with an entire fire getting started by a racoon-cat-monster named Grim, all the students (save for that one student who couldn't get sorted to a dorm) were allowed to leave and go back to their respective dorms.
The Octavinelle first-years were granted a delicious meal and celebration, and were all briefed on their duties in the Mostro Lounge. The entire time, Azul kept sneaking glances at [Name], which wasn't really left unnoticed by the twins or by [Name] themself.
Azul eventually mustered up the courage to approach his younger sibling and struck up a conversation.
"[Name], it's very nice to see you..! I'm Azul, remember? Your older brother?" Azul's voice was one of slight anxiety, did [Name] eveb remember him? It has been a while since they last even heard from each other..
[Name] turns to look at Azul and nods a bit, smiling a little. "Ah, right. It's so nice to see you again, Zulie."
Being referred to his favorite childhood nickname made Azul smile softly, but he couldn't shake off the surprise at seeing the change of demeanor in [Name]. Back when they were younger, [Name] was much more outgoing and enthusiastic compared to this [Name], who seemed to want to curl up in a ball when someone else tried making conversation with them.
Not even their smile fully reached their eyes anymore. Just what had happened to his beloved younger sibling in the time he was gone?
Internally hoping that his younger sibling hadn't changed too much, Azul tried to continue the conversation. "Ah, do you.. still play the piano?"
[Name] shook their head and smiled a little sheepishly in reply. "Oh, no I don't anymore. Atleast, not as often as before. I still play it occasionally, but I don't exactly find it as fun now."
"What about collecting sea shells? Surely, you still find that enjoyable?"
"Dad and I lived in a more colder part of the ocean, and there weren't a lot of sea shells to collect. So, no, not really."
"Ahh, I see... what do you like doing nowadays, then, [Name]?"
"Oh, well..." [Name] then proceeds to tell their older brother of their interests; though most (if not all) the things the younger Ashengrotto listed were things Azul weren't very interested in.
Regardless, Azul nods in understanding, trying not to mind how much his sibling had changed.
The next few weeks after that, Azul had found it hard to approach [Name]. Why? Well, maybe it was because of the fact that his younger sibling had grown rather attached to the Ramshackle prefect and a certain trouble-making trio (Ace, Deuce, and Grim).
Azul had enough of it, seeing his younger sibling get roped into trouble from their group of friends. When [Name] had came back to the dorm with the Heartslabyul's dorm leader's collar on them, Azul had to pull his younger sibling aside to talk.
"[Name], may I ask exactly why you have Riddle's collar on you? What did your friends bring you into this time?" Azul asked [Name] as they spoke in Azul's office. Azul was looking at his beloved younger sibling with furrowed brows and a scrutinizing expression.
[Name] replied, "It's a.. long story, big brother. Yuu, Ace, Deuce, Grim, and I were at Heartslabyul's Unbirthday Party. Dorm Leader Rosehearts got mad at us and collared us and kicked us out of the party because a rule was broken.."
Azul sighs in disappointment and exasperation. He can't believe his younger sibling associated themself with such troublemakers.
"[Name], honestly, why do you even hang out with such people?! They're getting you into trouble!"
[Name] tries to defend themself, "They don't mean to! And I can't just stand by and watch as my friends suffer on their own!"
Azul starts to get a little frustrated. Can't they see, those group of 'friends' as [Name] calls them are terrible influences. It's only a matter of time before they start using [Name] for their own benefit, Azul is sure about that. After all, [Name] has always been rather straightforward in the way that they won't hesitate to help (such values were strange to see in a school like Night Raven College). And Azul knew what happened to people like that; they get exploited, wrung out like a rag, draining them out until there's nothing left to give.
If [Name]'s friends were anything like the other students of NRC (like how Azul would treat his 'clients'), it would be so, so much worse for [Name]. Oh, Azul could practically see it now; it'll start small, like helping out with homework or lending some money. Eventually, it'll be like his younger sibling got the life and kindness sucked out of them, leaving them burnt out like a poor, unfortunate soul!
And Azul can't and won't let his beloved younger sibling go through that. He won't let [Name] fall from grace so terribly like the people who've broken their end of the deal with him.
And that is what Azul tells [Name] (leaving out the parts that paint Azul as the scheming businessman he is, of course) in an effort and attempt to dissuade his sibling from staying friends with their troublemaking friends.
"Don't you see, my dear sibling? They're only using you and their troublemaking schemes would run your student record through the mud. They're getting you involved in so much drama and troubles, and as your older brother, I'd hate for you to be surrounded by such terrible influences," Azul says.
[Name] frowns a bit. Azul worded it as though they hadn't done anything wrong, which wasn't all that far from the truth, though. However, [Name] also knew that Azul was thinking that they were being dragged against their will to help out, which they weren't.
"Big brother... I'm helping out willingly, because I want to. Besides, they're my friends. Didn't the Sea Witch always help other people? We're Octavinelle students, we must always follow the Sea Witch's values."
[Name] replies. The facts about Octavinelle and the Sea Witch were things that the younger Ashengrotto used to try convincing Azul to let them go.
Azul clicks his tongue, his eyes narrowing as he pushes up his glasses that were starting to fall a bit. "Then perhaps you should try getting better, more behaved friends instead of the ones you have right now. What happened to the well-behaved [Name] I used to know?" Azul mutters under his breath, but [Name] could still hear Azul's words.
[Name] frowns at the last question. "What 'happened' is that life happened, Azul. Not everyone stays the same! I've changed!!"
Azul, however, has difficulty getting behind the thought, shaking his head in denial, "Then change back!! [Name], I want the old you! The one who'd listen and trust me without a second thought! The one who was dependent on me! The one who actually made me feel special!!"
That was the last straw for [Name]. They have grown tired of their older brother trying to keep them the same as they used to when they were a child. Can't Azul just let go of the past? "Well that [Name] is gone!! I'm independent now, Azul! I'm not a child! Stop treating me like one!"
[Name] shouts in a burst of anger, before their eyes widen, not having expected themself to actually blow up like that. Not necessarily regretting it, though, the young Ashengrotto quickly turns away and leaves Azul's office, ignoring their older brother's shouts for them to come back.
---
Azul breathes heavily as he falls to his knees, watching as his younger sibling walks away from him, closing the door behind them. The sight can't help but remind Azul of the time when he and [Name] were separated; just this time, [Name] was being pulled away by their 'friends' instead of their father.
Azul can't believe this!! Did [Name] really just walk away from him?! After everything Azul did in hopes of having his dearest sibling back?! How dare they!
How dare they change! How dare they change so much to the point Azul barely recognizes them! How dare they move on from the past so quickly, as if it didn't bother them! And how dare they even think of choosing their friends over him!
How dare they make him cry! How dare they say words that hurt far more than when those pesky merfolk would bully him!! How dare they leave him there, with tears falling down his eyes and with a heart aching for family!
How dare they, how dare they, how dare they!!
Azul takes a deep breath of resolution, his eyes narrowing behind the glint of his glasses. Never mind, then. He'll show them, he just knows it.
Azul calls the Leech twins over to the office, preparing to make a plan for the upcoming exam season, a list of specific names he wants them to target.
He'll show [Name]. He'll show them that he's right. That big brother knows best.
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masonmount-vii · 28 days
Text
It'll Make Sense One Day
Part One
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april fifteenth
It's wedding season.
Y/N turns the blush pink envelope over and over in her hands, debating on whether or not to open.
Miss Y/N L/N is written in pretty, loopy cursive on the front, followed by your address. There's no return address, but you'd recognise your best friend's hand writing.
You already knows what it is.
"There's going to be a surprise from Scott and I in the post next week!" You remembered your best friend, Rachel chirping over the phone last week. "Oh silly me! I shouldn't have said that, because now you probably know what it is! Pretend i never told you!"
You, however, don't know why you are hesitant on opening the envelope.
Probably because then you'll have to acknowledge that all of your friends are getting married despite that you're still single, a voice that sounds suspiciously like your older sisters shrills.
You tear open the envelope and pull out the card inside. It isn't a card. necessarily, not one that opens or closes, like it would for a birthday.
Save The Date.
The glossy postcard-sized announcement reads in white script. Below is a picture of your best friend, Rachel, and her fiancé, Scott, on a mountain somewhere, a large expanse of valleys and sky behind them as they laugh. There's a rather large diamond ring on Rachel’s finger; you can't see it, you know it's there.
Rachel + Scott: 15/08/2024, the rest of the card says, and you take a moment to take it to the front of your fridge using a magnet to stick it on.
It's not like you are going to forget about this wedding; it's all Rachel has been talking about for the past month, ever since Scott proposed. At first, you had been enthusiastic; getting married is a big, exciting step, and you were genuinely excited for your girl.
But the more Rachel goes on about this wedding, the less you find yourself wanting to go. You know that all of your happily married friends are going to be there, and you're still single, have been for longer than you'd like to admit.
You wonder if you'll have to bring a plus one. If you do, It's not like you have anyone to bring.
Is there some sort of website people can use for this? Like a dating website, but for people who need plus one's for weddings?
You find yourself googling it and aren't too heartbroken when such a thing doesn't exist.
You'd known it would've been a long shot anyways.
Later on in the afternoon, you're making yourself dinner when your phone rings. You put it on speaker as you stir the pasta for your dinner.
"Hello?"
"Did you get our Save The Dates?" Rachel asks, straight to the point, her voice loud and excited on the other end.
You dare to laugh, despite feeling like that's the absolute last thing you want to be doing right now. "Yeah, I did. They're very cutesy. How does Scott feel about them?"
"Oh, I don't think he really cares. He just said that they could look like however I wanted to design them, as long as our families got them."
Does he care about anything when it comes to the wedding? You think, but there's no way in hell you'd ever say that.
"Do i need to bring a plus one?"
"You don't have to, but it would be nice. In fact, do you want me to set you up with a few guys in the months leading up to the wedding? That could be fun!"
"I'll pass," You tell her with a laugh.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
Rachel is her best friend, but before she met Scott, she was a little misguided when it comes to guys, and dating.
Not only when it came to guys, you think, but when it came to setting you up with guys, as well.
There was this one guy that Rachel set you up in our first year of university. His name was Nick and he refused to pay for your dinner in addition to his, so he basically expected you to pay for both of your dinners but you put your foot down and made a deal on paying for our own dinner. And to top it off he wouldn't even give you a ride home, so you had to call Rachel to come pick you up.
"Well, if you want to bring someone, you certainly can, Y/N," the future Mrs Hamilton is saying, and you don't know if that's a suggestion or something she's going to keep bringing up in future conversations.
You fight the urge to roll your eyes even though Rachel can't see you so it wouldn't be a big deal.
"The wedding isn't for another four months," you are gently reminded at the end of the phone call, so you know you have time to find a plus one.
It's just a matter of how.
And then, you get an idea.
-
The next morning you are woken up by your phone going off.
It's the kind of wake-up when you hear a noise and it's just the right volume to startle you awake, which you don't like.
You had forgotten to shut off your ringer last night, and the single ping must've been what woke you up.
TINDER: you have a message from Alex! the screen notifies you as you glance at it.
Who sends a message at seven in the morning? you speculate after seeing the time, and then you had pick up your phone anyway to see what Alex had said.
You had created a profile shortly before you fell asleep, in a stroke of genius so rare that you don't know where it came from or if it'll happen again. You had found four of your best pictures, typed out a relatively short bio (purposefully leaving out the reason why you had made the account in the first place: you didn't want people to think you were too weird), and then ser out to start swiping on guys.
Alex was 27 and he was the first guy you had matched with, except you couldn't figure out what to say.
Do you lead with the whole 'i need a date to best friends wedding so that all of my non-single friends could get off my back', or would that scare him off?
So, you decided to not say anything about it. While you weren't sure if he was the one, you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable. Alex was average looking, with chesnut coloured hair that stuck straight up and he had dark brown eyes.
You know that you aren't looking for love, as most of the people on her are (well, not real love anyway). A fake boyfriend perhaps?
The point being, you didn't want to get too attached, because you aren't expecting anything.
Your eyes skim to Alex's message, and you try to decide if it deserves a reply.
I think your eyes are really pretty.
That's it? you think glumly. You'd always been a hopeless romantic, someone who believes in love at first sight (or, in this case, love at first swipe) and you feel somewhat let down when average Alex sends you an average message.
Then again, what did you expect, in all honesty? The perfect guy to send you the perfect message on the first try?
That's not likely to happen.
Thank you! You reply, and then you slightly regret it, because even though Rachel's wedding isn't until August, you really don't have time to waste, and you aren't sure that you want him to be your date.
Just give him a chance, Y/N. You're not agreeing to anything.
Plus, there's a small part of you that hopes you'll find something other than just a plus one to this wedding.
The next message Alex sends you is two days later, as you're sitting at your desk at work.
It's shortly after nine in the morning, and you're working on next weeks article for the fashion blog that you work for.
You forget about it until an hour and a half later when you're having your break.
Y/N, huh? Is that short for something? the message reads.
You laugh at first but then you stop when you realise that average Alex is serious, which prompts you to type back a no, Y/N isn't short for anything, only then wondering if you had been too harsh as you press end.
You spend the rest of your lunch break swiping on a few guys; it takes you a while to decide whether or not you'll swipe on them in the first place, because in order for this fake plus one thing to work, it has to be believable.
You aren't yet sure if you want Rachel to know that the way you are going to find a date to the wedding is through Tinder.
None of the guys that you swipe on match with you, but when you check your phone later that evening, you see that a few of them swiped right in the hours that you weren't looking at your phone.
One of them may even be the one you end up taking to the wedding, but neither of them know that yet.
-
Thank you so much for reading, I’m hoping you’ll continue to stick around 💓 next part will be 28/08/2024!
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xpao-bearx · 2 years
Text
"Like A Virgin"
Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader
Read Part 1 HERE
Read Part 3 HERE
Read Part 4 HERE
NOTES: Y'ALL the way my jaw literally DROPPED when not even H A L F a minute after I posted the first part, you guys were already exploding my notifs which I wasn't expecting AT ALL I swear Oscar Isaac's really got us sluts in a chokehold O_o
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOUUU!!! 😭❤️❤️❤️ This is truly wonderful and encourages me a lot, especially since this is my first ever Moon Knight fic AND the first time a story of mine blew up this much! This is also great cuz I've been terribly sick, but of course ✨️priorities✨️ I gotta shower our Moon Boys with some much deserved lovin' and it's just so fucking nice to see that it's paying off! \(^o^)/ I was so happy and inspired that I couldn't resist and just HAD to write this second part ASAP!
Dissociative identity disorder is also briefly mentioned here and if I made any mistakes, then I apologize and please kindly correct me. And I feel like the ending may be a bit rushed, but it's the best my tiny brain could think of!
I'll shut up now and I'm very proud and excited to present... PART 2!!! 🥳 And if you'd like to be tagged for any of the next parts, feel free to tell me!
Also Marc does something very asshole-y here oop
TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland
Part 2: You made me feel I've nothing to hide
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After work, instead of heading home, you rushed straight to the nearest boutique to buy yourself a new dress for tomorrow night. The butterflies in your stomach were doing somersaults and you felt as if you could spontaneously burst into song like in those cheesy musicals your former college roommate was so obsessed with.
You knew the employees were all looking at you oddly as you constantly giggled to yourself like some lovesick schoolgirl while you perused through endless racks of the latest fashion. Of course you knew you were acting ridiculous--crazy--but wasn't that what attraction or, dare you say, love did to you?
Besides, you wanted tomorrow to go perfectly. In your eyes, Steven Grant was already perfect--perfectly imperfect or imperfectly perfect, you didn't know or care which was which. You just knew that you liked him. A lot.
And it relieved and pleased you to the moon and back that he actually felt the same! So, who cares what anyone else thought?
You just hoped that after tomorrow, Steven would like you enough to go on another date. And another. Then another...
Maybe you were looking--wishing--too far into the future, but you swore you could almost hear wedding bells chiming in the distance.
God, is this what happens after being a total virgin for twenty-something years? There was absolutely nothing wrong with being a virgin, but your insecurity bugged you. What if you weren't at all what Steven expected?
But another part of you, a positive ray of sunshine, clobbered all your doubts. For once, you were going to be brave! You were going to take a leap of faith! You were going to control your life!
Because, in the end...it was worth it. Steven was worth it. Sure, you've experienced various crushes throughout your life, but not like this. Not with Steven. This felt more...serious. Adult.
It felt as if right from the get-go crossing fates with "Steven with a V", your life was about to change--for the better.
Of course you were afraid, and yet you've also never been more sure of something in your entire existence. You've been waiting this long and you're glad you did, and now you were ready to jump head first (and head over heels) into whatever adventure was in store for you--with Steven.
You then squealed excitedly when you spotted the perfect dress, ignoring the judgmental stares other customers shot you as you hurriedly grabbed it like a child in a toy store.
Yes, tomorrow was going to be a dream come true.
♡•••🌙•••♡
You arrived at the restaurant thirty minutes early. It was totally embarrassing how eager you were, but you couldn't help yourself. Though at least with how early you were, you snagged a good table overlooking the restaurant's beautiful back garden strung with fairy lights and you can have some time to calm down before Steven came.
And you looked stunning. Your hair tumbled down in elegant waves, light makeup adoring your face and donning the contact lenses you rarely used. And the dress you bought fit like a glove; it was the shortest dress you now owned, stopping around your thighs. It was baby blue and had an off-the-shoulder style with some frills, and it hugged your figure just right.
You felt very self-conscious. You've always fancied clothes like this, but never actually had the guts to wear them--until now. Did it really suit you? But you couldn't deny that you were happy and, truly, isn't that all that mattered?
"Shall I get you started, ma'am?" A waitress snapped you back to reality and you shook your head.
"Not yet, thank you. I'm still waiting for my...date." The word made you blush furiously, as if sharing a dirty little secret.
The waitress smiled and nodded, leaving you by yourself once more as you sighed wistfully.
You took out your phone from your purse, checking the time. 6:45 p.m. Alright, not too long now. And you double checked that the address you texted Steven was correct, which it is.
You settled back in your chair, peering over the garden and giggling softly.
"I'm right here for you, Steven."
♡•••🌙•••♡
"It's about time, innit?" Steven murmured, glancing over anxiously at his wristwatch for the umpteenth time. It was already eight p.m., a whole hour past your meeting time (not to mention he arrived embarrassingly early). And he was just informed by one of the servers that the restaurant was closing in thirty minutes, to which a pitiful look was also casted to him.
"It's not 'about time', Steven. It's late." Marc gruffly pointed out, Steven seeing Marc's reflection glaring back at him from the shiny silver flower vase set in the middle of the table. "Face it: she's NOT coming."
"Don't you dare say that." Steven's voice was barely above a whisper, but there was a certain edge to it that one would normally not hear from the soft man. "Y/N would never do that. Not her. She's just running late, I'm sure. Traffic and all."
"Oh, please, we both know that even the traffic here doesn't take this long." Marc scoffed. "Stop kidding yourself, Steven. She's. NOT. Coming."
Steven frowned, and with a shaky hand he pulled out his phone. He should've called you since way earlier. It was the logical thing to do, after all. But he was...scared. Scared that, maybe, a terrifying maybe, Marc was right.
He found your number and called you, pressing his phone to his ear as it began to ring. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until you finally picked up, voice groggy.
"Hello..?"
"Y/N..." Steven heaved a relieved exhale. "Hey, uh, I'm at the restaurant. Guess you got stuck in traffic?" He chuckled halfheartedly.
A long, dreadful pause. And then:
"Fucking EXCUSE me?"
Steven's eyes widened, having never heard you swear before. He was just about to ask what was wrong when you continued without skipping a beat.
"Are you playing with me, Steven? Is this what it is?!" You definitely sounded angry, but he didn't miss the faint sniffles coming from you. Shit, were you crying? What the hell was happening?
"How can you be such a...such a DICK?!" You shouted, causing him to jerk his phone a few inches away from his ear. "I fucking waited for you like a total idiot until closing time, you prick! You never showed and you never answered my calls! What the fuck can you POSSIBLY gain from toying with me, huh?!"
"W-Wait, I don't understand!" Steven was nearly hyperventilating, all the colour draining from his face and his mind running a mile a minute. "I-I'm here! Right now! D-Didn't we agree? Friday night, seven p.m.?"
You were dead silent. Steven was going to check if the call was still connected when you beat him to it.
"Steven... It's Sunday."
Steven froze. Then his eyes landed on Marc's reflection, refusing to meet his gaze and it clicked.
"Y/N." Steven said slowly, steadily, despite feeling like crying himself. His eyes were still on Marc, cold and pissed. "Please. I promise I have an explanation. I just... God, can we meet? Y/N, please, I'll come to you."
"No need." Tears threatened to spill from Steven's despondent eyes at your flat response, before you suddenly added: "I'll come to you. You said you were at the restaurant, right? Stay there."
You ended the call, and Steven flared at Marc--no longer caring if other people perceived him as a lunatic fighting with himself.
"Why the fuck would you do that, Marc?"
"Steven..." Marc struggled to find the right words, and the asshole actually had the audacity to look ashamed. "Listen, she's nothing but a distraction--"
"You always think you know better, yeah?" Steven laughed humourlessly. "A distraction? YOU stop kidding yourself, Marc. This is not just your life, but mine. And it's about fucking time you stop being such a selfish bastard!"
"Um, sir?" Steven winced, greeted by a baffled waiter. "We'll be closing soon, so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave if you're not ordering anything."
Humiliated and repeatedly babbling apologies, Steven abruptly sprang out of his chair and dashed outside. He sighed deeply and collapsed listlessly on the ground, finally allowing the tears to fall.
He vaguely heard footsteps approaching until he saw a pair of worn bunny slippers in front of him. His eyes heavily dragged upwards, finding you staring back at him with an unreadable expression and breaths coming out in ragged pants.
"Y/N!" Steven jumped up, surprised you actually came despite the way he--the way Marc--treated you. Your bloodshot eyes and the dried tears on your cheeks only made him feel even shittier, much more fucked up than any beating he suffers on a mission.
Because at least with those, he can be confident that he and the boys would win no matter the challenge. But with you?
He had everything to lose.
Your hair was a total mess; glasses slightly crooked and you were in your pyjamas, a matching set of a purple tank top and shorts with stars and moons. The only thing you had covering you was a purple silk robe, drawing it closer to your chilly body as your eyes narrowed at Steven.
You should be mad at him, and you were. Still, despite everything, you hopped on to the first bus you saw and scrambled the rest of the way here as fast as you could.
But now that you were here...what in Khonshu's name were you going to do? You could scream at him with all the pain you haven't had the pleasure to release like you did on the phone, but you'd just be wasting your breath. Then again, he wasn't lying. He really is here. And it confused you more than anything.
And seeing him like this, looking so...sad. Well, it made you sad. Him miserably clenching onto a heart shaped chocolate box, fat globs of tears cascading down his cheeks as he gawked at you with his pretty doe brown eyes.
You raised your hand, and Steven shut his eyes as he braced himself for the slap he very much deserved--only to be met with your soft palm, wiping away his tears tenderly.
"Explain to me, Steven."
♡•••🌙•••♡
The travel to Steven's apartment was spent in deafening silence, but it brought upon a strange sort of comfort. Unconsciously, you hugged Steven's black jacket that he had offered you earlier even closer to your much smaller frame. It soothed your nerves, being completely enveloped in his smell; fresh soap with a hint of musky cologne.
Once you reached his unit, you couldn't help but smile. It was just so...Steven. It was a bit messy, but a good kind of messy. You didn't really know how to describe it, but it warmed your heart especially when you saw a giant fish tank with only one goldfish.
"Cuppa tea?" Steven asked to which you shook your head, facing him fully.
"No. I'm a 'get over it' kinda girl so whatever your explanation is, I'd rather we just nip it in the bud." You huffed before you halted, biting your lip. "Oh, uh, sorry... Of course, if you wanna have tea, you can. It's your home, after all."
Steven laughed, his first real laugh that entire day. "Are you always this nice to blokes you should be mad at?"
"Only if they are really into Egyptology and have beautiful brown eyes and gorgeous curls." You rolled your eyes though you couldn't suppress your grin before you cleared your throat, getting a hold of your stupid giddy self. "Now, explain."
Steven's demeanour instantly shifted, serious now and quite uneasy. But he nodded and gestured towards the couch. You walked over and plopped down, Steven sitting next to you and keeping a respectful couple inches between the two of you.
He looked down at the ground, carefully considering his words before meeting your gaze solemnly. "Have you ever heard of dissociative identity disorder?" You nodded, previously learning about it in Psychology class and researching about it due to personal interest. "That's...what I have. I'm an alter within a system, and there are two others--Marc Spector and Jake Lockley."
"Am I correct to assume that when you asked me out...it wasn't actually you?"
Steven blinked, rather startled that you were taking this so well. "Yes. Jake was the one who asked you out."
"Was he also the one who didn't show up for the date?"
"No, that would be Marc." He grumbled. "And listen, I'm truly sorry about him. He's a right twit. It may not have been me who didn't show up, but that absolutely doesn't excuse the hurt it caused you. I am so, so sorry, Y/N."
Your brows furrowed, mulling over this new revelation. But...you believed him, especially when it explained all those times you secretly caught Steven muttering incoherently to himself or staring at his reflection and quietly reacting to something. You were curious about more, of course, but Steven didn't have any reason to lie about such a serious matter. And if he was lying, there were plenty of other things he could say. But the way he acted, and just the look in his eyes--he knew the risks of opening up to you, but he did it anyway.
You clasped his hands in yours, sighing. "I know I look calm right now, but trust me, I'm freaking the fuck out." You chuckled, and Steven felt safe enough to join you. "But... I trust you, Steven. And I believe you. Tell me one thing, though. Are you...into me? Like, at all?"
"Of course I am!" He replied in a flash, making you both pause before erupting into easy laughter. "Why would you even have to ask that, love?"
"It's just... Well, if Jake was the one who asked me out, it made me wonder if you really did like me." You mumbled, looking away.
Steven gently grasped your chin, tipping your face back towards him. "I've liked you since the day we met, Y/N. In your pink skirt and the cute little pigtails you had." He smiled, eyes so amorous and gleaming with sincerity. "Truth is, I've wanted to ask you out since forever. I'm just not as...forward as Jake is."
"And that's fine. But hey, we gotta thank him 'cause Lord knows I'd just spiral into a panic attack if I ever made the first move." You chuckled. But it gradually died down as Steven continued to stare at you, and you never thought you would ever have someone look at you the way Steven did; as if you were precious treasure hidden within a sacred tomb.
Slowly, ever so slowly, your body started moving of its own accord. You were leaning closer, closer, closer--a mere breath away from his lips before he piped up.
"I'm also Khonshu's Avatar!"
"Say what?"
"Um, well, you see--" He stammered, mentally slapping himself.
'Don't say anything, Steven.' Marc warned, and it took all of Marc's willpower not to seize control and actually slap Steven.
But it was too late now. Steven already said too much, but he wanted to be honest with you. Utterly so. And since you wanted to nip this in the bud, now was the best time more than anything.
"Erm... You've seen the news, yeah?" He didn't grant you the chance to respond as he rambled. "Masked vigilantes... Moon Knight and Mr. Knight? They're actually...Marc and I."
"Steven, this is--"
"I'll show you, Y/N. I'll summon the suit."
"Summon the soup? What is happening--"
Steven stood up, and a split second later there was a whirl of white. And sure enough, there was none other than one half of the mysterious heroes you've been seeing a lot on the news recently; his glowing white eyes locked with yours, crisp ivory suit and batons clutched tightly in his hands.
"Look, I know this is a lot to take in--"
"Handsome..." You blurted out before you can restrain yourself.
"Huh?" Steven blushed underneath the mask, and you were the same as your cheeks tinted crimson. Then you rose from the couch, closing the gap between you two and removing his mask.
His curls stuck every which way and his eyes were as wide as the full moon, making you giggle. "You're so handsome, Steven. And yeah, this is a fucking lot to take in. To be honest, a part of me is still wondering if this is all just a dream." You reached up, caressing the side of his face sweetly and smiling. "But...thank you. Thank you for being honest with me."
His batons dropped to the floor, trembling hands hesitantly settling on your hips. You noticed his Adam's apple bob as he looked down at you, tears once again glistening in his eyes. Happiness, relief, adoration--how can so many exhilarating emotions crash over him all at once?
"Can I be more honest?" He whispered, resting his forehead against yours as he gazed deeply into your eyes. "I...want you to stay with me."
Your cheeks hurt from how impossibly wide your smile has stretched, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling his nose with yours.
"I'm staying whether you like it or not, Steven with a V."
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