#I'm fine it's just. a lot. and I feel like I'm drowning sometimes.
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"Ow, shit. I think I pulled a muscle in my arm."
Jason hissed in pain and rubbed the aching muscle. You growled back,
"No shit, you just attempted to flip a car."
Jason scowled at you. He wonders sometimes why you are on the field with him. He can handle himself.
With a playful eye roll, you say,
"I can heal that."
Jason blinked at you in shock. He asked with great suspicion,
"How?"
He doesn't want to agree to any terms without understanding everything. You shook your head in disbelief. Is he really this distrustful? You've saved him several times tonight alone.
"I can heal injuries through lip-to-lip contact."
Jason paused to consider it. His muscles would be fine. Patrol ends soon anyway, but he files away that information. Do the others know about this magic, or was it a secret?
"I'll be fine. It's only a pulled muscle, dollface."
You shook your head, but part ways as patrol ended. He's so self-destructive it hurts to watch. You can feel his aching joints and muscles.
Jason stormed into the cave, ready for a fight. He felt awkward asking for a kiss for such a small injury, but if he could get all his siblings to fight him, then he'll earn the kiss.
"I need someone to punch me in the face."
Jason exclaimed into the full cave. Tim chuckled,
"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this."
Tim attempted to tackle Jason to the ground, which Jason lazily complied to. He made sure to let Tim know he's only allowing Tim to do this, not the other way around.
He had to physically resist his self-defence training and allowed Tim to punch him with Damian joining as soon as Tim finished. Tim always had unfinished business with Jason, so he is content with the small carnage he left.
Damian was a lot more feisty. He let Jason have his full, unadulterated rage like a fight dummy.
Imagine your surprise when Jason shows up at your apartment beaten and bloody. You gasped and ushered him inside.
"Okay, I'm absolutely kissing you. Pucker up, buttercup."
You lightly tugged him down via his bloody shirt and kissed him. The kiss felt lazy as each injury faded into nothingness. You even healed his joints and fixed his pulled arm muscle. You kissed him like the kiss meant more to you than just healing.
You kissed him even when all his injuries were healed and tangled your fingers through his hair to massage his scalp.
He groaned into the kiss and pulled you closer. He felt like he was gaining years of his life back. All the bones that never mended perfectly were set and fixed, his joints have never felt better, and his muscles no long ached. He kissed you like you are his sole lifeline.
You borderline drowned him in your magic. Your kiss was firm and insistent. Your lips were dancing to an unknown song, and you were content. Jason's warm body pulled you into a tight embrace. You had kissed him like it meant so much more to you, and that's when he knew.
He knew now how badly you wanted to kiss away his injuries and call him an idiot for thinking he could do more than he actually could after a long patrol. You want to kiss away the bullet and knife wounds every night. You want to be the one to hold him when he wakes up from nightmares. You want him.
He would have collapsed at the revelation if you weren't still holding his shirt. The years of scowling disdain were all a cover for a pining that lit up like a forest fire. He was filled with happiness for once. There was nothing weighing him down.
You and your nurturing lips will be his downfall.
Imagine: A Sanamancer!Magic!Reader x Batfam who can heal wounds through lip to lip contact <3
Sanamancy: A magic user whose magic is life and healing based.
———————
On patrol..
Jason: I think I pulled a muscle but I’ll be fine.
Sanamancer!Reader: Do you want me to heal you?
Jason: You can do that?
Sanamancer!Reader: Yes I can heal injuries through lip to lip contact :)
Jason: …don’t worry I only pulled a muscle
Sanamancer!Reader: Oh okay.
———————
Later
Jason: Punch me in the face now please.
Tim: You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.
———————
We need more magic!reader please <3
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How to love yourself better? A request letter from yourself. (Channelled message)
This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.
Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐
About me | Masterpost
Book a reading with me - KO-FI (Read this post : personal reading)
1. White
Dear myself,
If I could light a fire right now, I could, just to see if that fire can compete with my light, our light. And yet I got a feeling that fire will burn brighter than us, just because it had someone to start it. But ours didn't. We stowed our fire away, our light, for fear of burning the eyes of the world? Or for fear of being engulfed in the sea of darkness outside?
Have you ever seen a solar eclipse? People gathered to watch it, a brief moment of the sun being eaten. A brief moment. Imagine how the world would be if that brief moment turned into a very long moment, an eternal one? Panic, fear, despair. We have prolonged our solar eclipse for far too long, let the Sun has its shine. Does it sound arrogant when I talk of us as the Sun? No, you should get used to it. To be the light, the be seen. Even when the Sun seems like a solitary existence on the sky, it's not, so are we.
I wanted to tell you many beautiful words, give you praises and a pat on the head. Sounds embarrassing, right? We should learn to do that more often. And then practice it with other people too, we all need it sometimes, a lot of times.
Do you know what will happen when we turn the anger on ourselves? Somehow, it will ricochet inside us and finally shoot out at other people. It's painful, for us and for them. Let's hold it in our hands, watch it breathe and stroke it gently, find where does it hurt and tend to it, then poof- it's gone. You catch anger not by throwing it around and putting it in a cage but let it heal and fly away on its own.
I'm sure that sometimes you will find yourself drowning in life, in other people's water. Losing yourself could be your worst nightmare. But you will never lose me. It's odd how we're surrounded by people but feel like we are alone in our struggle. Where did all the people go? Are they also drowning like us? In a different sea? I hope that all the seas are connected to each other so we can all find others to swim with us.
Till the next sun rise, yourself.
2. Pink
Oh, how I want to just throw away everything and run barefoot on the sand. To lie face up, watching the clouds passing by for hours. To paint the wall bright pink and yellow (this combination might hurt your eyes if you stare too long, though). But we're not a kid anymore, or so people have told us, much like how we've told ourselves, convinced ourselves to behave.
It's fascinating to watch the process of our resistance to what is taught to us. Why do we resist it so much? It feels like being gravely offended. We have our principles, and now we have to listen to others telling us what is right? What is wrong? Let me tell you, in a small whisper, it's actually nice to listen. Just listening, not obeying. It will feel like swallowing a rock. Maybe we could learn from the chickens a little, metaphorically. They swallow small rocks to aid in healthy digestion. So let's swallow some of the hard lessons.
You always like to think in concrete fashion. You try to touch your thoughts with your own hands and knead them, mould them into whatever you want. And when you're dropped into a relationship with someone, you find yourself lost that ability. It's all a jumble mess. You find your hands reaching out, grasping for something. How about the other person? Are you afraid that you will lose yourself if you hold on to them? It's fine, you won't. It's just an outdated belief that you've held on for far too long.
As we were talking about swallowing, you may want to watch what you're swallowing into your stomach, literally. Watch what you eat! Don't make yourself, ourselves suffer by bringing unhealthy things into our body. We may want to live long, you know.
Hey, if you find a dance class is too embarrassing, how about we turn off the light and dance with each other in the middle of the night. Nobody will know, but we will feel good (I'm not trying to be a flirt with myself here)
Your best friend, love.
3. Red
Make me a cup of tea, please.
Let's have a chat, just us, lying around lazily, sipping our favourite tea, imagining some weird scenarios to entertain us, playing some puzzle.
I don't have much to tell you because we talk to each other every day and I know you always try to be better for us. I love you and I'm proud of you. Let's be vain and give ourselves applause every day. Make it a pinky promise.
A reminder when you're feeling sluggish and slow, we are going to exactly where we need to be. You are guided and protected.
Keep on shining and be the little kid that runs around in the rain.
I love it when you're running wild, letting yourself, me, free, splashing colours everywhere. I just want to grab other people's hands and drag them to the dance. I love it when you're laughing, loudly, even better when you jolted others around you, oh, their surprised look, priceless.
Just be sure to take care of your body. Don't over tasking them. Work hard, play hard, but rest hard also.
Have you been thinking about going on a trip somewhere? No? Then, allow me to make a gentle request. Let me put the idea in your head. Go on, go to wherever you're thinking, there might be a surprise waiting for us, *hint: it will make our heart flutter*.
Let's make it a ritual to go on a trip every year. Let's give our mind and spirit a makeover. Dust off any tangled mess we have and prepare a space for new things to come into. I'm so excited.
It's got me thinking lately, there's this small blinking light in the back of our mind, sometimes I can see it, sometimes I can't. I want to find out what it is. It's like a signal, trying to reach us, can you feel it? Sometimes, there's this odd feeling swelling inside that you can't put your hand on and naming it. I think if we can sit still, quiet, in the dark, we could see it better. It's guiding us. To where? I got a feeling that it's somewhere deep, somewhere with a treasure, waiting for us. If we can uncover it, it will be the greatest gift that the universe has ever given us. So let's go and find it.
Love, myself.
4. Green
I have some news for you. Brace yourself for changes. They're coming, very fast, very soon. Sit yourself tight. I don't want to give spoilers, but I guess we will receive some sudden confessions or offers. What you will do with those confessions is completely your choice. You don't have to feel guilty if you don't return their feelings, my dear.
I think the way the universe is sending us this kind of surprise is telling us to reconsider our 'single' thinking mode. We have stood alone, strong and independent for so long, I think it actually makes us a little too comfortable in being alone that the thought of getting into a connection with someone can be daunting. Will we lose our freedom? What if we are dependent on them? This time, the universe is saying: 'you and your worries will not make a good journey together, break up with those worries, here, I will throw in some opportunities for you to practice '.
If you don't want romantic connection at the moment, fine, different types of connections will come. No matter what, the universe is determined to get us involved with other people. It's for our own good. I have to admit that it's hard. It's not easy to change our way of thinking and believing. So surprises will be needed.
When opportunities come, the gate is opened, we just need to receive them. Walking through the gate will feel like walking out of a confinement into the wild, lively world outside. We will be propelled into a new path that we hadn't even considered in the past. Beware of what you said in the past about how you don't want to do something, you can't imagine yourself doing something. Well, guess what, we are going to do just that, joke on us.
So, in the meantime, even if you're resisting, it's fine. Just take care of yourself, of us. Obsessive worrying can sadden our body.
Something is going away, giving space to a new energy coming in. This new energy will be softer, more loving. The harshness of the past will go away soon. Trust me.
Love, Your companion.
#crystal reading#lithomancy#pick a card#channeled message#crystals#pick a pile#divination#astrology#tarot community#tarotblr#tarot#tarot reading#witchblr#spirituality#pac#pac reading#tarot reader#free tarot#daily tarot#pac tarot#tarot pac#Occult#fishnapple#astrology readings#astro community
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Siren's Call
Kinktober Day 4 | Renjun Masterlist | Member Masterlist
tags: y/n is a siren, fingering, dry humping, spanking, stuck in a wall, actually a lot softer than I originally meant it to be because I'm just soft for (and missing) Renjun
length: 5366
You’d always thought of yourself as an independent, self-reliant woman. You don’t need a man for shit.
Being a siren helped with that. Something about the ability to sing men to their deaths at sea just gave you a powerful, feminist perspective on the world. Your voice has power even when it sometimes feels like you’re just being reduced to the small voice of a woman in a man’s world.
Your mother, grandmother, aunts, and older sisters all helped you in the belief that you could do anything that you set your mind to.
Which, to be fair, was true most of the time.
Yet right now all of your determination was wasted.
You were stuck.
And your only hope of being free was a man.
A morning swim in the ocean was a typical part of your morning routine – it gave you the chance to stretch out your fins, to get the daily saltwater intake that you require as a siren. Usually you would follow the swim with nude sunbathing on the rocks behind your family’s home, sometimes accompanied by other women in your family, but usually alone.
Today you’d swum farther than you typically would, around the bend of the island, closer to the resort. Tourists were always there, covering the beaches and filling the water with so much sound as they jetskied, boated, paddle boarded, and played their loud music. Generally, you avoided the resort when you were in your siren form, but this morning you had a reason to swim a little closer.
You were hoping to catch a glimpse of a man.
Yesterday you’d been at work, wiping down tables in the resort’s lounge, when you spotted the prettiest man you’d ever seen. He was stretched out in a lounge chair, shaded by an umbrella. He’d been laughing at something his group of friends said, a vibrant drink topped with a pineapple slice and a little umbrella in hand, and a pair of yellow swim trunks sat low on his hips, his chest exposed between the open flaps of his palm tree patterned shirt.
He’d been so lovely. All fine features and a pretty voice, a sweet smile when you’d volunteered to be the one to run fresh drinks out to him and his friends. You’d overheard them talking about a morning paddleboard session to watch the sunrise.
“Aren’t you scared?” One of the guys asked.
“Why would we be scared?” The pretty boy you’re watching responded.
The scared one sits his drink down. “Didn’t you hear about the local legends? There’s more than just sharks in those waters that would take a bite out of us. They say there are sirens swimming in these waters, that they drown men and eat us. Remember when we were looking into coming here and there were all those reports of unexplained deaths and missing persons cases?”
Okay, so sometimes your family overindulges, but the locals are wise enough to steer clear of your hunting grounds. The money-hungry developers however couldn’t care less about the fact that they built an all-inclusive resort like a ready made all-you-can-eat buffet for you all.
The pretty one scoffed at his superstitious friend. “That’s because people are drunk and stupid. They drown, they don’t keep away from sharks, or they just have accidents.” His gaze flicks up to you as you offer him his new drink. “Thank you. Can I ask you something?”
You’d startled, but nodded.
“Have you ever seen a siren? Are they dangerous?” The way he asks the question tells you that he doesn’t believe.
You smile in return, your lips stretching wide over your teeth as you tell him, “Oh, yes, I’ve seen sirens. But they’re not dangerous, not really. Only if you provoke them. They’re more likely to seduce you than eat you.”
One of his other friends addresses you, and you reluctantly pull your gaze away from where his pretty eyes are watching your lips. His friend says, “I heard a rumor that if you capture a siren, she grants you a wish.”
The pretty one snorts with laughter. “You’re thinking of a genie.”
“Renjun, I’m serious! I swear, the local girl at the bar last night said that her uncle captured a siren once.” The other man sweeps his black fringe across his forehead, his eyes wide with sincerity. “She said the siren granted her uncle one wish, and that wish was to have sex with her. She claims her cousins are part-siren.”
The pretty one, whose name must be Renjun, rolls his eyes. “Sure. And what do you think?” He’s looking at you again.
You shrug. “Maybe if a siren is feeling generous or particularly inclined she might grant a wish. Guess you’ll have to see what you can find out there.” You wave a hand out towards the crystalline waters of the sea down the beach.
Renjun smiles and nods.
“I’m not going out there.” The scared friend states, folding his arms across his chest. “Not at that time. Dawn is when sharks are out hunting, so sirens probably are too.”
Which isn’t true at all. Sirens hunt at any time of day, anywhere. Including in broad daylight at the resort lounge.
Your uniform is a short, tight dress, and with your natural-born siren powers of seduction, it’s quite easy for you to work your magic. Pretty boy Renjun is wrapped around your finger. He sits aside his drink shortly after you walk away, and you can feel his gaze following you around as you deliver other drinks to other resort guests, as you move around cleaning off tables, as you dance along with one of your coworkers to a song playing. He watches the sway of your hips and the short hem of your dress.
You’re not surprised when he approaches you a little while later, when he starts flirting, when he lets you bring him around behind the storage area for the lounge chairs and umbrellas, when Renjun presses you up against the flaking paint and kisses you.
You’re the one that grabs his hand, encouraging him to slip it beneath your dress. He kisses across your collarbones, strokes your pussy over your panties. It’s only when you drop your hand to his ass and start groping a little that Renjun takes a little more liberty – he pulls your panties to the side, finally actually touching you as he grinds against your hip, his lips returning to yours for a feverish kiss.
Renjun cums with your sucking on his tongue, his cock twitching inside his pants against your hip, and just that simple fact that you made him cum without you really touching him takes you to your climax. His fingers are still pumping inside you, his thumb dancing against your clit, and when you drop your head back against the wall behind you, Renjun kisses down your throat, down to the curve of your breasts beneath your dress.
You would’ve done more, gone further, happily let him take you back to his resort room, but you were still technically on the clock. And just as Renjun’s tugging the neckline of your dress down so he can get to your tits, you hear your manager calling your name.
“Oh, shit, stop.” You push at Renjun’s shoulders, and he backs off. His hands fall away from your body, his swollen lips pouting as he watches you pull your dress back into proper order. “I’m so sorry, but I have to get back to work.”
“Can I see you again?” Renjun asks, reaching for your hand as you step around him. “Can we pick up where we left off?”
You’d like that. You really, really would. Even if Renjun doesn’t believe in who you are – the way he’d scoffed at the idea of sirens being real had stung a little, you can’t deny that – you’re incredibly attracted to him.
“I’ll be here again tomorrow afternoon.” But you intend to see him again before then. “See you around.”
So that’s why the following morning you’re on the hunt. Not for a meal – you ate a normal human breakfast before you walked out the back door – but for a bit of fun at the expense of Renjun and his friends.
The sun is breaking over the horizon when you spot them. Four boards sit high above you in the water. One of them boldly dangles his legs and arms in the water, making him a perfect target for a shark to mistake him as prey. You swim up towards them, veering a bit behind them so when you surface they won’t be likely to see you.
The water is so still this morning, making the sunrise stretch across the surface like a painting.
The voices of the men carry back across the water to you, and you hear pretty Renjun talking about how someone named Jisung should have come out here. “He was so scared of sirens, but all there are are little fish nibbling my toes.”
One of the others laughs loudly.
Maybe it’s stupid, but you just want to scare them a little bit. You sink below the surface again, and you quickly swim towards them. You let the water ripple above you enough that they notice, that they’re somewhat on alert, but you’re already diving down out of their sight in the dark water. You hear the murmur of their voices, Renjun’s laughter at the sound of alarm in one of the other guy’s voices.
He’s still so doubting, so quick to tease his friends about believing in sirens.
You rise up quickly, cutting so close by that you let your tail brush Renjun’s foot.
Even underwater, you hear the yelp and the swearing he lets out, and you look back up as you dive back down. His paddleboard nearly capsizes, his wobbling form just visible through the surface. He stabilizes himself on the board, his voice loud but you can’t make out his words.
Shortly after that, the sun is risen, and they begin paddling back toward shore. You follow at a distance, trying to stay deep enough that you remain out of sight as the waters lighten around you. But you swim away before they reach shore, heading back around the bend of the island towards your favorite rocky outcropping about halfway between the resort and your family’s home.
You pull yourself out of the water, hauling yourself up the rocks, and you stretch out on your back, letting the rising sun warm your bare skin and your scales. It takes time for your tail to separate into legs and for your scales to transform into human skin, and you just lie here to wait. You listen to the crashing of the waves against the rocks, the whistling of the breeze as it blows through the trees and through the cracks in the cliff that cuts down to this stretch of sheared away rock.
You shiver when your legs begin to split. It’s an itch, like when a cut is healing into a scab, and just like that, you long to itch it away, to dig your fingers into the growing crack between your legs, but if you rush it then your legs come out looking a little weird, as if you’d pulled a caterpillar out of its cocoon before it has finished its transformation into a butterfly.
Your fin disintegrates into sea mist, and you stretch your toes, roll your ankles. The transformation is almost done; you can feel your leg muscles, can shift your legs apart although you still feel the layer of scales tight against your skin. Just a little longer and you’ll rub your legs against the rocky surface like a snake shedding its skin.
“That’s incredible,” a voice says from several feet away.
You jolt upright, eyes flying open, heart racing as you look to see who has spoken.
Renjun stands there in those bright yellow swim trunks. You can see his paddle board beached on the rocks, the paddle jammed down into a crack in the rocky surface. His eyes are on your feet, on your developing legs, running along the iridescent shimmer until he reaches the point where your scales become human skin, and still his gaze roves higher to your breasts, your hair loose around your shoulders.
“I followed you here,” he says, taking a tentative step closer. “You startled me when you brushed against my foot, I’ll admit. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I looked down and saw your tail, your fin, and then I caught a glimpse of your face when you looked back up.” Renjun gestures back out at the water, saying, “I had to see for myself whether you just dressed up to scare my friends and I after you heard what we were saying yesterday, or if this was real. No one’s going to believe me that you’re real. I barely believe it.”
You tilt your chin, holding his gaze. “I told you I’ve seen sirens. You didn’t believe me then?”
Renjun smiles. “I’m more of a seeing is believing type of man. I need to experience things firsthand. I don’t buy into rumors until I’ve tested things myself.” He takes another small step forward. “So, is it true that if I capture you, you have to grant me a wish?”
Now you recognize that gleam in his eye – a man after a prize.
The last of your scales fall away as you bolt to your feet. Your legs tingle a little as the blood really gets flowing, but you’re running across the rocks, aiming for the cliff face, for the narrow passageway you know that cuts through the rock and will drop you right back to the sea, far away.
“Hey!” Renjun shouts behind you, and you dare a glance backwards. He’s running after you, and you put on a burst of speed.
It’s been a while since you used the shortcut. Years, actually. The last time was when you were playing hide and seek with your cousins when you were, like, thirteen. They were halfies (yes, one was almost definitely the girl that Renjun’s friend had spoken to at the resort’s bar), which meant that they couldn’t transform as fully as you, so you’d run from them much like you were now because you knew that they wouldn’t have been able to follow you into the waters on the other side of this shortcut.
All you had to do was squeeze through the window that wind erosion has made in the face of the rock entrance to the passage, and then you’d have just a dozen yards before you could slip back into the sea.
You run a little faster, wanting to put more distance between you and Renjun, but his legs are far more awake and weight-bearing than your newly redeveloped legs are. He’s gaining on you, and you know that your only hope is to slip through the shortcut before him.
And there it is.
The hole in the cliff opens up before you, at about waist-height, looking just as tight as you remember.
“Hey! Listen, I–!” Renjun is shouting, his voice just feet behind you.
You dive for the hole into the passageway, your hands grasping at the rocky edges, you pull yourself through, and you can see the other end of the passage, where it drops off again into the ocean.
But then something isn’t right.
One thing you’ve forgotten in your quick escape attempt is a simple fact. The last time you used this path you were years younger. You were thirteen, on the cusp of puberty, and your body hadn’t developed as much as it has in the years since. When you were thirteen you didn’t have the hips of a woman, but now you do. And your hips are too big to fit through the fucking window worn into the cliff.
You curse loudly, trying to back out, thinking maybe you’ll still be able to slip away before Renjun captures you. No, it’s not a law of nature that a siren has to grant a wish to her captor, but it’s also just not historically been a great thing for a siren to find herself caught.
You wiggle your hips in an attempt to back up, but it’s no use. The edge of the passage’s entrance digs into your hips and belly. A bit of it crumbles away, but not enough for you to be able to slip backwards.
And then you feel a hand. You hear Renjun’s voice, “Oh, shit, are you stuck?”
You squirm, attempting to kick backwards.
You make contact with something, and Renjun swears.
“Go away! Leave me alone!” You kick around, and you just scream when you feel his hands attempting to stop your flailing legs.
“Please!” Renjun cries out from the other side of the wall. “Stop kicking! Stop screaming!”
You wail a little louder, putting a bit of your power into the sound.
“Hush, now!” Renjun shouts, and he slaps his hand lightly against your thigh. “I’m trying to help you! Stop fighting me!”
You can’t see anything behind you due to the wall, and that’s stressing you out. Squirm and wiggle as much as you might, but it does no good. More of the edge of the hole keeps crumbling away, but not enough for you to be able to free yourself one way or the other.
“Can you just hold still?!” Renjun shouts loud enough to be heard over your cries. You feel his hands rest on your waist. “I’m going to help you! I was joking when I said I was going to capture you. God, will you please hold still, you’re going to hurt yourself!”
You do fall still, mostly because all the moving around is really beginning to hurt your hips and waist and belly.
“How are you going to help?” You ask.
Now that you’re done struggling and crying, it’s quiet enough that you can actually hear Renjun sigh on the other side of the wall. You imagine him standing there, hands on his hips, a little furrow between his eyebrows as he stares at the back half of you protruding from this hole in the cliff.
“I’m not really sure,” Renjun admits after a moment. “I could push maybe? Or should I try to pull you back out?”
You groan, trying hard not to feel embarrassed the longer you’re stuck like this. You keep imagining what you must look like right now from his point of view, and all you can visualize is your ass and pussy hanging out in the open, in full broad daylight. Just last night he’d had you pressed up against the storage area wall, making out with you and fingering you, cumming in his pants because he wanted you so much, and now he’s looking at you from a totally unflattering angle.
“Why don’t I try pulling you back out this way?” Renjun suggests, and you feel the suggestion of his hands on your hips, not quite touching but you’re sure his fingers are hovering just centimeters above your skin. “If you’re alright with me touching you right now?”
You nod before you remember that he can’t see you doing that. “Yes, that’s fine. Just watch where you’re touching, okay?”
His hands fit more firmly on your hips. His leg brushes yours, a foot pushes between both of yours as he braces his foot against the wall. Renjun pulls, and you yell out as the rocks dig in against your waist. He pushes you forward a little, then tries pulling you back again as if that little bit of momentum will have helped.
It doesn’t.
Renjun mumbles something under his breath that you can’t hear through the wall. Then he pushes again, braces himself against you, and pulls back. He picks up this rocking motion that has you whining at the friction of the rocky edge against your skin, but you can feel the edge giving just a little more, so you don’t complain too much.
But then you realize that while Renjun is doing this, as he’s bracing himself against the back half of you –
“God, Renjun,” you groan and shout, “are you really getting hard right now?”
“No!” He denies even though you can feel the evidence against your ass right now.
“I’m stuck in the wall, and you’re getting hard?” You squirm around, but still it does nothing for you except to rub back against Renjun. “I bet you want to fuck me like this, don’t you? Like I’m just some warm hole that you stumbled upon.”
Renjun’s hand comes down against your ass, a sharp sting that takes you by surprise. “Listen, I happen to like you, not just all of this.” Again, his hand caresses your ass. You try to suppress the shiver that runs through you, the arousal that begins to pool hotly in your belly. “Sure, I’d like to have sex with you, but I would kinda prefer that you weren’t stuck in a wall for it. I really liked being able to see your face last night when you came on my fingers.”
“Yeah, well, I liked seeing your face when you came from humping my hip.” You wiggle again. “Just keep pulling like you’ve been doing, I think this might work.”
Again, he mumbles something.
“What?” You ask, and when he just presses himself right back against you, his hard cock lined up against your pussy, you kick your legs, trying to get him.
“Hey!” Renjun again, spanks a hand down on your ass. “I told you to stop kicking.”
You do it again just because you can. Another slap on your ass.
By this point, there’s no denying that you’re starting to get aroused. If he keeps spanking your ass, if he keeps grinding against you, you’re bound to get a little turned on.
Again, there’s his erection rubbing just there against you, and this time you press back into it as much as you can. You just need a little friction – this time, the good kind.
“Are you doing that on purpose?” Renjun asks, and he pinches your ass cheek.
“Maybe.” Your heart races as Renjun rolls his hips forward, and then with his hands on your hips, he yanks you back against him. Again, a few pebbles of the wall crumble away from around your waist, but it’s still nowhere near enough to set you free. “What are you going to do about it if I am doing it on purpose?”
Renjun’s response is unfortunately that he steps back, leaving your ass and pussy bared to the elements once again. “You’re just being bad. And you want me to help you out of this wall? Bad girls don’t get help. They get punished.” And then his hand comes down flat against your right ass cheek.
The moan that leaves you is loud enough that it echoes around the passageway in front of you.
“Did you like that?” Renjun asks, rubbing his hand soothingly over the burning imprint of his hand. “I think you must’ve, judging by that moan. And you’re so wet.” His thumb brushes along your ass, dangerously close to your pussy. He swings his other hand flat against the left side of your ass once and then again.
You whine, squirming around, feeling the burning heat of his handprint migrating to join the pool of arousal in between your thighs. God, if he spanks you again, you’re going to start dripping.
And then he does, once more to your right side ass cheek, and then quickly followed by a little slap directly between your legs.
“Renjun!” You cry out. If the wall wasn’t supporting you, you’d have collapsed to your hands and knees. Your legs tremble, and Renjun’s fingers quickly soothe the residual tingle left by the spank to your pussy. “Renjun, I’ll be good. Don’t stop.”
Perhaps that’s a confusing message, but at the moment, you don’t care. All you can think of is how much you want him to spank you again, to feel his hands on your ass and your pussy, you want him to keep touching you, you want him to loosen the front of his swimtrunks, get his cock out and fuck you even though you’re stuck in this stupid wall. You’re so wet and hot and desperate that you just need him inside you.
But if you’re being good, like you’ve just told him you’ll be, then what reason does he have to spank you some more?
“Tell me what it is you want, my siren. Sing me a sweet song, tell me what you want me to do to you.” Renjun’s fingers stroke between your legs. You feel the warm brush of his lips over the imprint of his hand on your ass. “Should we pick up where we left off last night?”
“Yes!” You gasp. “I want you to touch me, Renjun. I need you, need you inside me.”
As if that’s all that he was waiting for, Renjun slides both hands again to your hips, and he presses forward against you, sliding his bare cock right against your pussy, then thrusts into you.
It’s rough being stuck in this wall, getting fucked by the pretty boy that you just want to stare at. Your nails scrabble against the wall, just wanting something to hold onto as Renjun pushes you forward then pulls you back, rocking into you. He snaps a hand down against your ass again, and you jolt with a moan.
“You like that? Let me hear you, beautiful.” Renjun pinches, smacks, gropes you ass, rolling his hips forward to keep going with the push and pull. You keep moaning for him, your voice rising and echoing through the passageway. You’re sliding back and forth through the hole in the cliff face, with the rapid movements, with each time Renjun crashes into you and your combined lower halves collide with the edge of the entrance to the passageway, a little bit more of it crumbles.
The edge gives.
Just a little. Just enough.
The next time Renjun drags you back onto his cock by your hips, you keep pushing backwards, keep your upper half sliding back through the hole until you’re free.
You and Renjun tumble backwards, still connected when you land, and Renjun rolls you beneath him.
“Are you okay?” He asks, his hands racing over you, from your scratched and aching hips to your waist, up your chest to examine your perfectly alright tits, and then he’s cupping your face between his palms, turning your face from side to side.
“I’m fine.” You push at his wrist. “Renjun, I’m fine. Let’s just….”
He sinks down over you, covering your mouth, silencing you with a kiss.
Your hands settle on his waist, squeezing when Renjun starts moving again, smooth and steady thrusts, kissing you feverishly, like he just can’t get enough of you, like he’s drowning in the feeling of being with you. You don’t even care about the pebbles digging into your back and hips and ass. All that matters is Renjun’s body above you, his lips on yours, his cock hitting repeatedly against your G-spot, his thighs against yours, his breath mixing with yours as he breaks the kiss to pant, his gaze and yours connect and hold.
You feel a surge of your power course through you, and that’s it.
Renjun bucks forward a few more times, pressing in, trying to get deeper, and then he’s pumping his hips, burying his cock in deep as he cums.
“I’ve got you,” he sighs even as he collapses against you. He can’t even really support himself, but he slips one of his hands down between your bodies to your clit, and his hips twitch forward, grinding into you while he circles your clit, working endlessly to get you to cum for him too.
And you’re not sure what powers Renjun possesses, but surely he must have some because your orgasm swells rapidly, bursting through you and wiping you out.
Renjun moans your name as you cum around his cock, as you wrap your arms and legs around him. You press your cheek to his, moaning in his ear while you ride out the throes of ecstasy while he’s still touching you, still rolling his hips forward.
Even when Renjun’s movements slow and then cease altogether, when you’re both just lying pressed together on the rocks with the sounds of the crashing waves in the distance, you just hold him. Your hearts beat together, your breaths almost syncing.
“I hate that you’re a resort tourist,” you confess quietly after quite some time. “You’re exactly my type, you’ve just given me a great orgasm, and you already know I’m a siren. I don’t want you to leave.”
Renjun laughs, brushing a kiss to your ear. “You’re a siren, why don’t you just drag me into the ocean so I never leave you. Isn’t that part of the origin of the myths about sirens?”
“There are lots of myths about sirens. Most of them aren’t really true.” You brush your fingers through the soft, short hair at the nape of his neck.
“And the captive siren granting a wish, is that one true or false? Because I think, technically, I caught you.” Renjun lifts his head up so he can look down at you, smiling. “Do I get a wish?”
You don’t answer, instead raising your head to kiss him again.
The distraction works for a handful of moments, but then Renjun’s moving away, peeling his body away from yours. “Can I at least tell you my wish?” He asks, “In case you’re feeling generous or particularly inclined towards granting one?”
He pulls out of you, kneeling up while straddling your legs. You raise yourself up on your elbows, just looking at him, waiting.
“Ask me to stay,” Renjun says. “That’s my wish. Just ask me to stay a little longer, to extend my trip. I’m not saying that this has to be forever because that would be pretty bold to think that after we’ve known each other for such a short time, but just a little bit longer. You’re exactly my type too, I mean, minus the siren thing – but that’s only because I’d never considered that before. It's up to you, though, it's your call. Ask me to stay,” Renjun repeats, “and I’ll stay.”
You curl your hand around the back of his neck, bringing him down so his forehead rests against yours. “Renjun, will you stay with me?”
“Yes,” he agrees, nodding. “Yes, I’ll stay.”
But you don’t stay there, naked on the rocks together.
He has his friends to get back to, and you have work in the afternoon, so you can’t stay there as much as you might want to. Renjun eventually climbs off of you, and he pulls his swim trunks back on, though you lie there admiring him while he does. And then you walk back down to the edge of the rocks where he’s left his paddleboard. Renjun kisses you again at the edge of the rocks, and then he paddles back around the bend to the resort.
But Renjun stays.
You see him each day for the rest of the week, and when the week is up and his friends take the boat back to the mainland to fly home, Renjun stays. He meets your family, and he spends his days out in the water with you, swimming with you and teasing you about your tail, making love to you on a paddleboard which you capsize after things get a little too wild. You take him to a moonlit cove on the far side of the island, camp on the beach and stare at the stars.
Renjun falls in love with you, but he falls in love with your island too.
Maybe that’s the true magic of the sirens, you think some nights when you’re curled in your bed beside him. It’s not seducing men into drowning, but seducing men away from their busy lives, tempting them into staying and falling as much in love with you as you are with him.
a/n: I would have had this posted earlier, but I accidentally fell asleep oops. Anyway, here's siren Y/N with Renjun, like I said at the top of the post, this actually turned out a bit softer than I originally intended, but I'm in a constant state of missing Renjun hours since he's been on hiatus forever, so here we are.
Reblogs are deserving of my eternal gratitude, likes are greatly appreciated, and your thoughts and comments are always welcome !
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Guilty as Sin?
pairing: oscar piastri x norris reader; lando norris x sister reader; talks about carlos sainz x norris reader past relationship
series: the tortured poets department and part two of so long, london
synopsis: after the tragedy of y/n norris and carlos sainz, y/n moves on with her brother's new teammate, oscar piastri. can she feel guilty as sin in this new relationship?
warnings: drinking; a small segment of smut; the media being snakes
author's note: none i'm just happy that y/n is finally happy 😭
Drowning in the Blue Nile He sent me 'Downtown Lights' I hadn't heard it in a while
After Lando's birthday celebration, Oscar decided to drive you guys back to your hotel since he was the only sober one between the three of you. As Oscar drives his McLaren Artura down the Las Vegas strip, one of your favorite songs 'The Downtown Lights' by the Blue Nile started playing. "This is one of my favorite songs."
"This is your favorite song too?" The Aussie says surprised.
"Yeah, but I haven't heard it in a while. My ex boyfriend hated this song because it was 'too chill' for his music taste." You say recalling the time Carlos got mad at you for playing this song while he was driving. It still hurt thinking about Carlos. How can you stop forgetting someone you've loved for so long? "Is it possible to turn it up?" You ask so you can numb the pain that you felt from Carlos.
"Will Lando wake up if you turn up the volume?" Oscar asks you and you turn around to see what he was doing. Lando was knocked out drunk from partying too hard.
You giggle at his question, "I'm pretty sure he'll be okay." Oscar smiles at the giggle you made. "I'm going to turn it up." The Aussie nods and you both start singing the lyrics to the song.
"Sometimes I walk away. When all I really wanna do. Is love and hold you right. There is just one thing I can say. Nobody loves you this way. It's alright, can't you see? The downtown lights" You and Oscar sing the lyrics in unison and smile at each other.
Little did you know everything was going to be alright with Oscar by your side.
This cage was once just fine Am I allowed to cry? I dream of cracking locks Throwing my life to the wolves Or the ocean rocks
The night of the Las Vegas Grand Prix, it felt like you were in cage with all the lights and cameras on you. This was your first time back in the paddock after the tragedy that happened in July 2022.
Oscar walks out of room in the paddock he hears you crying in Lando's room. "Hey Y/N. Are you okay in there?" He doesn't hear anything from you which starts to worry him. "I'm coming in."
When he enters the room, he sees you crying on the couch and sits next to you. "What's going on pretty girl?"
"I hate him so much. I spent so much of my youth throwing my life for him and Ferrari and he has the audacity to talk crap about me to the storm of reporters outside." When you were trying to walk through the paddock to get to the McLaren garages earlier, one of the reporters asked if you had any comments about Carlos talking about you to other reporters. You were confused at first, but once you got the time to watch what Carlos said in interviews it got you so angry. He started bad mouthing you and your three year relationship you had with him. He even started bad mouthing your brother and the McLaren team.
As you're still crying, Oscar decides to give you a hug. "I understand that you went through a lot in your relationship with Carlos and still are. It isn't right for Carlos to bad mouth you or anything related to you. That's very immature of him." Oscar wipes the tears that fall from your face. "It's okay to feel this way Y/N. You're allowed to cry. But it's time to crack these locks from Carlos and start throwing rocks at that past relationship."
You smile a bit at what Oscar was telling you. "You're right, Oscar." You stand up and fix yourself up.
Before you both leave the room, Oscar kisses your temple. "I'm always here for you Y/N." You felt butterflies after Oscar kissed your temple.
What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh Only in my mind? One slip and falling back into the hedge maze Oh what a way to die
After Lando and Oscar got 5th and 6th place at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, you guys decided to hang out back at the hotel. Little Lando fell asleep after a couple rounds of alcohol, it was only you and Oscar talking.
You were a little tipsy from the rounds of alcohol you had and you accidentally told Oscar something that was only for your mind. "You know Oscar. The past two weeks, I've started to have a crush on you." Oscar was shocked when you told him, but you couldn't care since you were tipsy.
"Sometimes I wonder if you're written 'mine' on my upper thigh." Oscar laughs at your little pick up line and you notice. "Hey don't laugh at me trying to confess that I like you." You lightly slap him and he politely apologizes to you. "But only in my mine?" You question yourself.
"Why only in your mind?" he asks you.
"I don't want to move too fast. One slip and I'm falling back in love with one of my brother's teammates." As the words leave your mouth, Oscar kisses you in the lips.
"Oh what a way to die then." You both smile at each other and he kisses you once again.
I keep these longings locked In lowercase inside a vault Someone told me There's no such thing as bad thoughts Only your actions talk
During winter break, you decided to spend some private one on one time with Oscar in Australia. Before you two left you had to tell Lando about your fresh relationship with Oscar. Lando was shocked that you two were together since he was 23 and you were 26 but overall supportive for you. Lando did have to give Oscar the "if you hurt my sister, I'm going to kill you" talk. Oscar jokingly responded back "it's okay. I like my women a little older." Which got all of you laughing.
As you watch Daniel and Oscar paddle board on the Australian coast line, you were talking with Heidi. "So how long are you going to keep your relationship a secret?" she asks you.
"Well our relationship is new. I like keeping our relationship locked, only for us to enjoy for now. Let's call the vault our relationship in 'y/nscar' with a lowercase too." You both giggle about the vault idea.
"You look happier Y/N. I know that you're still grieving the years you had with 'the man that shall not be named.'" You both laugh about 'the man that shall not be named,' but it fells good to finally be able to laugh about your ex, but you had a feeling you were moving on too fast.
"Do you think I'm moving on too fast with Oscar?" You ask Heidi.
"Someone told me. There's no such thing as bad thoughts. Only your actions talk. You're really in love with Oscar and you're finally healing." She explains to you.
You both look at the Australian coast line and see your men coming back to where you were sitting. "You guys enjoying the view?" Daniel asks the both of you.
"Definitely." You answer Daniel's question and give a kiss to Oscar.
"I love you honey." Oscar says and kisses you again.
"I love you too."
My bedsheets are ablaze I've screamed his name Building up like waves Crashing over my grave
That night after spending time with Daniel and Heidi, you both decided to take your relationship to the next step and have sex. Let me tell you it was the best you ever had.
For once a man put your needs first before his own. As Oscar was eating your pussy out, you screamed his name like never before. Carlos never got down on you once during your relationship.
After Oscar ate you out, he decided to insert himself in you. The waves of pleasure were building up as he kept thrusting himself inside you. You both spent hours making love.
"How was it?" Oscar asks once you both reach your climax.
You kiss him passionately, "It was the best sex I've ever had love. I could rest in peace now." You say jokingly and he laughs. "I love you so much."
"No I love you more." You two laugh again and kiss once again.
What if I roll the stone away? They're gonna crucify me anyway What if the way you hold me Is actually what's holy?
Your private love didn't last for long as f1drama instagram reporters on the two of you.
f1drama BREAKING NEWS: McLaren driver, Oscar Piastri, spotted with his teammate's sister, Y/N Norris in Australia earlier today. Sources at the scene say that they were on a date and were very loving to each other.
It's embarrassing to see Lando Norris' older sister not only with another driver on the grid but someone 3 years younger than her. Carlos Sainz, her ex fiancé, definitely dodged a bullet on marrying Y/N Norris.
"That's so disrespectful for the media to be following us while we're on break." Oscar says angry that the media was following you two around Australia. "It's disgusting what they put in the caption of the post. They even added Carlos in there which is such a low blow."
You try to calm Oscar down by hugging him and pressing kisses to his jaw. "It's okay love. I knew the media would react like this once they found out."
"I just thought we would have time to keep our relationship private." Oscar says as he rests his chin on your head and continues to hug you.
"I know. All I need is you right now." You say as Oscar holds you tighter. The way that Oscar holds you felt holy to you. You felt like everything would be okay with just him by your side.
I choose you and me religiously
yourinstagram i choose you and me, religiously. @oscarpiastri
oscarpiastri love you always and forever honey 🩵
liked by author
landonorris yay i finally got to keep a secret for so long!
liked by author
yourinstagram i'm surprised. very proud of you little bro.
danielricciardo wow no photo creds @yourinstagram 😒
heidiberger_ let her be down bad for oscar 😭 liked by author yourinstagram what my girlfriend said @danielricciardo 😌 danielricciardo @yourinstagram hey she was my girlfriend first!
taylorswift the guilty as sin lyric 🥺🩶
liked by author and oscarpiastri
user1 mother approves of my other mother being happy 🥹
user2 @taylorswift ARE YOU HINTING THAT GUILTY AS SIN? IS ABOUT THEM !??
user3 she's glowing in her new relationship rn
user4 @yourintagram i don't get the hate about her moving on with oscar 😭 she's more happier with him than when she was with carlos
tagged: @omgsuperstarg @splaterparty0-0 @2pagenumb
#taylor swift#the tortured poets department#lando norris x reader#lando norris#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#f1#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic
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It feels like there's this narrative that fandom keeps wanting to explore, with Steve Harrington, about this very specific type of martyrdom where self-sacrifice is an expression of a lack of self-worth. And, like, yes, write the narrative that's meaningful to you, and yes ok Steve does admittedly get beaten up a lot, but -- legitimately I do not think this narrative is actually Steve's story.
Like, without gendering things too much, there is something in the Steve fanon that I keep seeing that's so reflective of the specific kind of sacrifice and societal pressures exerted on girls, specifically -- this story of 'you make yourself worthy and worthwhile by carving pieces out of yourself', of believing that you must always give and never receive to justify the space you take up in the world. Yes, boys can experience this same pressure (and obviously trans and nb people of all genders run into it as well! sometimes a lot!), but especially in the mid-1980s cultural context where Stranger Things takes place, it's just...really not likely to be a dominant narrative for Steve to be operating under? It doesn't even really match the Steve we see on screen -- who is happy to make sacrifices for the sake of others, yeah, when needed, but who's not particularly kind or giving unless somebody asks first.
And Steve does get hurt a lot on other people's behalf! And this is a problem! It's just a completely different problem than the one fandom keeps writing.
Steve, and I'm going to say this forever, is a story about toxic masculinity, which the show may or may not even know it's writing. The archetypes influencing Steve's character as it shows up on the screen (and the stories and messages that Steve would actually be surrounded by in his actual life) are not deconstructions of suffering heroes who never should have had to fight in the first place and were destroyed by it. That's the Buffy the Vampire Slayer story. Steve's not Buffy. Steve's cultural context is Indiana Jones.
Steve is The Guy! And part of being The Guy is that you're expected to take the hits -- not because Steve is less important than the women-and-children he's supposed to protect, but because, the story says, he will get less hurt. Why should Steve get in between Billy and Lucas? Because Steve is an eighteen-year-old athlete and Lucas is in middle school, and of the two of them, Steve actually stands a chance. (And yes, Steve got badly hurt there, and Max had to save him -- but if Lucas, if Max had taken that beating they would not have been running through those tunnels later.) Was somebody else better-qualified to dive down to the uncertain bottom of a cold lake in the middle of the night? Steve doesn't list his credentials there as a way of justifying some ideal of martyrdom; he is literally the most likely person on the boat not to drown.
And make no mistake: when Steve's pulled into the Upside-Down, he survives the bats long enough for backup to get there. Realistic or not, he's apparently tough enough that he's physically capable of hiking barefoot through hell without much slowing down. Steve is the tank for the same reason as any tank: because he literally has been shown to have the most hit points in the group. You cannot honestly engage with Steve in this context without dealing with the fact that he's right.
AND THIS IS A PROBLEM! This is still a problem! But it's not the same problem that fandom seems to expect. It's not an expression of caretaking or the need for self-sacrifice; it's not an issue with Steve valuing himself less. It's an issue of toxic masculinity so ingrained that Steve doesn't even recognize he's suffering from it, because one of the tenets of toxic masculinity is that Big Strong Guys don't suffer. It's just a concussion, it's fine, he'll walk it off. It's not that Steve thinks he deserves to get hurt, or even that he's less deserving of safety than the others. It's that absolutely nothing in his cultural context allows him to admit that he can be hurt in a significant way.
There's still so much tension that can be gotten out of this situation, I swear. There's so much that can be explored in writing! Hell, the show itself is deconstructing some of this trope, believe it or not, by giving us a Steve who absolutely can take all the hits thrown his direction but still doesn't know what the fuck he's doing with his life. It turns out that doing his job as The Guy is only mildly helpful in horror movie situations (mostly by buying time for smarter, squishier people to do the damage from behind him), and somewhere a little worse than useless in everyday life.
But Steve does not go out of his way to self-sacrifice, he really doesn't. He just does his job. He's The Guy. Of course he's not going to let a kid or a girl or some scared skinny nerd who just learned about monsters yesterday take the hits. Of course Steve's got this.
#Stranger Things#do I dare character-tag this#does this count as an Unpopular Opinion if I'm calling out fanon#eh let's be bold#Steve Harrington#and#toxic masculinity#which is apparently just A Thing I Post About Now
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JAMIE TARTT | i'd be better armed if you agreed to take it.
PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 5.0k
SUMMARY: higgins' new assistant happens to be an old friend of the reader's, and their reunion hits jamie with major feelings of jealousy. when the team thinks that the pair of them are going on a date soon, jamie decides enough is enough.
WARNINGS: language
A/N: i actually like this story a lot better especially the dialogue! + jealous!jamie was really fun to write HAHAHA i hope that all of you enjoy this and title is from the song '(you) on my arm' by leith ross :) also i apologize in advance i'm not the best at writing kissing scenes
You loved your job, truly. This was the first time you've had a decent, no, fucking amazing boss that didn't make you want to pull your hair out every time they called you into the office.
But being Rebecca's assistant also meant that you sometimes had to help Higgins out with... well, whatever the Director of Football Operations does. It was fine in the beginning, just scheduling appointments and keeping track of ticket sales, but once Richmond got promoted, it felt like your work doubled.
It only took two weeks before you begged Rebecca to get Higgins an assistant of his own. Luckily, she obliged and asked Higgins to start interviewing possible candidates for the job.
You hoped that whatever extra load you got due to Higgins occupying himself with selecting an assistant would be worth it from how much would be lifted off you when he did. So when you got the message from Rebecca to help delegate your duties to the new assistant, you practically ran to the clubhouse that morning.
You were too excited messaging your boss that you'd be there soon that you ended up bumping into someone near the entrance.
"Shit!" You exclaim as you almost lose your balance, but are steadied by the other person who turned out to be Jamie.
"Ay, watch where you're going, yeah?" Jamie warned casually, as he let go of your arms once you recovered.
"Sorry, Jamie." You straighten up and walk in with him. "I'm just really excited. Higgins finally picked an assistant and they're here today."
"Oh yeah, you were fucking drowning in work a few weeks ago." And by drowning, he meant it literally. The football player recalled seeing you walking past the locker room carrying a stack of papers taller than you were. You refused any help from the team, partly because they had to get to training and mainly because you didn't want them to see how the tear stains on some of the pages.
"Yeah," you chuckle at the memory. "But, after a few days of helping the new kid out, I'll finally be free." You stretch your arms up in the air and cheer. You were too busy celebrating to notice how soft Jamie's expression had become.
He loved seeing you act yourself around him, a big jump from when you used to glare at him around the office. He had denied it for a while, but Jamie started to like you around the time he'd gotten back from Man City.
You knew him before then, when he was a massive prick who stepped over — even literally at times, — his teammates. But after he returned, you felt bad for the guy for how the rest of the team was treating him, no matter if he deserved it. Ted had told you about what they talked about when Jamie approached him about joining the team again, and a part of you felt like he needed at least some kind of welcoming presence in the building.
You started greeting him more often when you ran into each other in the halls and sometimes offered him the candies you keep in your desk drawer whenever he passed your desk, just small things. Jamie would usually just end up hanging out with you during his breaks because he didn’t have anyone else to spend it with. The first few times, he would just sit there in silence while you worked, but one “How’s your day going?” from you, and he was more than willing to chat.
Then, of course, he gradually regained the team’s trust and started hanging out with them, but even then, your little interactions with him didn't stop. He'd invite you whenever the team had a get-together and would sometimes drop bags of candies at your desk to "re-stock" your drawer. You just thought it was his way of returning your kindness. But what you didn't realize was that the star football player was starting to fall for you.
Jamie tried to ignore it, saying to himself that he just felt indebted to you, but then it started to manifest in different ways. How he would try and come up with reasons to approach you the next day, how he'd get distracted whenever you had to visit the pitch during practice, and how your awkward habits became something he looked forward to. It's been a while since he felt like this about anyone and was more anxious about rejection than he's felt about any of his games, so he didn't make any obvious pass at you.
So now, as you asked the receptionist where the Director of Football Operations was, Jamie decided to wait for you to spend as much time with you as possible.
You notice Jamie staying back and relayed the information to him. "Higgins is introducing them to the team, so I guess I'll be going with you to the locker room." You nudge him with your shoulder as you continue to walk through the building. You've always tried your best to ask casual with Jamie, possibly in an effort to make yourself feel normal around him and not constantly blushing every time he looked at you.
As you approach the room, you hear Higgins explaining what the new assistant would be doing for the players. "So if ever you need help with anything I've listed, you can go to Anthony Perez here, instead."
Anthony Perez. No fucking way. You and Jamie enter the locker room and are instantly greeted by the sight of an old friend.
"Anthony, you fucking bastard!" You scream enthusiastically, causing everyone in the room to turn to you, including Anthony. It takes him a second before registering who you were. The moment he does, he raises his arms and you practically leap into him for a hug.
"Oh my god!" Anthony exclaims, as he lets go of you and puts you down.
"I didn't know you were the new assistant!" You lightly smack his arm.
"I didn't know you even worked here!" He defends himself as the two of you turn to find the entire team's eyes on you, including Jamie's.
"Shit, sorry," You laugh as you make some distance between you and Anthony. "Didn't mean to make our reunion so dramatic."
"I assume you two know each other?" Higgins asks and you both nod.
"Anthony and I went to school together," You quickly explain. "From sixth form to uni. Of course, I haven't heard from him in two years." You jokingly glare, causing him to roll his eyes.
"Sorry, I got busy, okay?" He whispers an apology before you both chuckle again.
"Well, I hope your friendship will make it easier to help him get accustomed to the job." You smile at Higgins before the three of you excuse yourself to let the players get ready for training.
You're so engrossed in catching up with Anthony that you didn't even notice the look Jamie was giving him.
"They seem close!" Dani innocently says as he puts his shoes on.
"You don't think something is going on with them, do you?" Colin chimes in.
"Well, she's never even mentioned him before, so I doubt it," Sam argues, but Isaac shakes his head. "Nah bruv, that hug was way too intimate for just friends."
"I've seen her hug Keeley and Rebecca like that, too. That might just be how she greets her friends." Jan offers and the team continues to debate it, but at that point, Jamie has had enough. It was already shit having to watch that interaction, but having your teammates talk about it as you pretend not to care? It could not get any worse.
Jamie pulls out a can of body spray from his locker and slams it closed, before turning to everyone. "Can everyone just stop talking about it and get ready?"
The room goes quiet, as the football player turns around and starts getting changed. The rest of the team exchange looks, before getting ready themselves. Most of them had a hunch that something was going on between the two of you but didn't have any proof, until now. They just hoped they were wrong about you and Anthony, in an attempt to stop Mt. Jamie from erupting.
——
For most players, if something happened right before training that put them in a sour mood, it would mess up their performance on the pitch. Of course, Jamie wasn't like most players. He might be playing even better during that training period. The coaches didn't even have to give him the signal; he was already in 'prick' mode.
Maybe it was the appearance of Anthony or the fact that you had never been that excited to see him even though he thought you guys were becoming close, but he was playing aggressively and was much more focused than he needed to be for a practice game. The coaches started to take notice after he viciously tackled one of the second teams.
"Whistle!" Roy shouts, pausing their game. Ted takes a step forward and shouts, "Hey Jamie! Love the passion, but those are still your teammates. Ya'll have a game next week, so better save that attitude for the real one."
"Okay, coach!" Jamie replies through gritted teeth. He takes a deep breath as they continue to play, trying to calm himself down. Ted was right; there was no point in taking out his anger here. Not when the source of said anger was just inside the building.
Once the morning session was over and they were off for lunch, Jamie headed over to Rebecca's office, expecting to see you waiting at the desk outside like you usually were, but instead, he almost runs into the owner of the football club.
"Jamie!" Rebecca exclaims, backing away from the football player to avoid a collision. "What brings you here?" He only needed to glance at the empty table for her to know what was going on. "Oh, well, if you're looking for her, better head to Mr. Higgins' office. She's helping his new assistant get used to the system."
This causes the player's jaw to clench. Jamie mutters a quick thanks before heading to the Director of Football Operations' office, where he found you hunched over a chair and directing something on the laptop to Anthony.
You had spent the first hour of the day basically catching up with Anthony about what you've been doing the past few years. Once you ran out of stories though, you were forced to actually start teaching him what to do.
You started with the simple things like how to organize the emails, fixing the schedule, and what information to take note of, so you could ask your bosses' about it. Anthony's a quick learner, so you guys were making good progress. Once he practically mastered the routine, the two of you went to the clubhouse cafe to get some early lunch. Most of the food there was pre-packed and they’d usually just microwave it, but over the years, you've developed a fondness for them. You bring back the food to Higgins' office and continue to work on it till you hear someone clearing their throat.
You perk up when you realize who it came from. "Jamie! Hi, what're you doing here?"
Jamie's eyes bounce between the two of you, before settling on your own. "Well, I checked your desk but you weren't there, and Rebecca said you'd probably be here, so I went over here. And now I'm wondering if you wanted to get lunch?"
You move to say yes, but quickly back out when you remember the wrappers on the desk. "Oh, sorry Jamie, Anthony and I just ate something from the cafe cause we wanted to spend the lunchtime working on some emails. Maybe another time?" You try and hide the disappointment in your voice by giving Jamie a small smile.
Jamie's expression falters, but he quickly bounces back. "Sure, no problem. Bye," The football player waves at you — and just you, — before heading back downstairs. He shouldn't be acting like this. Feeling this dejected someone saying she can't have lunch with him?
You weren't fairing that well, either. Your shoulders slump once he disappears from view, then you turn back to Anthony who seems to be holding back a laugh. "What's with you?"
"Nothing, just amused at how even two years later, you still don't know how to talk to the guys you like."
You scoff at his response and hit his shoulder. "What do you mean? I do not like Jamie." You protest, which only causes Anthony to roll his eyes.
"Oh please, it's like you transformed back to a seventeen-year-old the way you got excited when he asked you to get lunch with him." You shake your head, but he continues. "It's clear as day that you have a crush on him."
“That word makes us sound like we're seventeen again," You retort, before redirecting the topic back to the task at hand.
But you knew he was right. Even back in the early days of working here, you couldn't deny that you found Jamie attractive. Anyone with eyes could see it, but he was dating Keeley and was a massive prick, so nothing ever came about from it.
Then, he started spending more time with you, checking up on you and stopping you in the halls just to chat. You realized that he was actually pretty sweet when he was off the pitch and you started to realize that you wanted to spend time with him, not just out of pity like before. Plus, you don't think he's seen anyone in a while, so there really was no reason for you to deny your feelings any longer.
Except, of course, the fear of getting rejected by him and ruining the steady and comfortable relationship you currently have. Which is a good reason, you think. You shake your head and try and continue your work in peace.
After spending your lunch writing up reports, it only took another hour to finish up both your and Anthony's duties, so the two of you update Higgins on your progress and ask if you could observe practice for a bit. He scans through your work, before happily letting the two of you go. The moment you get to the pitch, your eyes instantly look for Jamie who is doing pretty well, to no one's surprise. You join the coaches where they’re standing.
Anthony was already a big football fan, so he was able to recognize almost all of the players on the pitch. In fact, he was even saying things that you weren't aware of, despite your three years of working for the owner of a football club. He bends down to whisper a joke in your ear, but the amusement never hits because soon after, you hear O'Brien groaning in pain. You both look up to see Jamie already helping the goalkeeper up after kicking the ball right into his stomach.
"Whistle! Tartt, stop fucking injuring your teammates!" Roy shouts, to which Jamie quickly apologizes. The practice game continues, but not without you leaning to ask Beard something.
"Coach, is Jamie okay? He seemed fine when I was with him earlier," You turn your head, as Beard continues to watch the practice.
"He's been playing like that all day. Something must've pissed him off." You open your mouth to say something, but Beard reads your mind. "No, we did not give him the signal." You nod before turning back to the game.
You meet Jamie's eyes as he runs across the pitch, and you take the opportunity to give him a smile and a thumbs up, hoping it encourages him somehow. He only nods his head in acknowledgment before continuing, but you can tell in the next few plays that he seems to be calming down. After a while, you and Anthony decide to head back to the office after Rebecca asks you to send some emails on her behalf.
Jamie watched the two of you head back to the building and tried to ignore that growing feeling when Anthony leaned down and rested his arm on your shoulders. He tries and shakes himself right before continuing the game, ignoring all the possibilities of why he’d do that.
The real reason was that Anthony had decided to tease you, whispering close, "Somebody likes you," in a sing-songy voice. "And his name is Jamie Tartt doo-doo-do-doo—"
That exact remark makes you jab his side. "Shut the fuck up, Anthony. He does not." Anthony lets it go as the two of you reach your desk and he leaves you to do your work, though you can't help but feel warm inside at the thought of it being true.
—
Once he gets changed after training, Jamie practically ran upstairs to find you. Usually, he'd offer to drive you home and before Anthony, you'd be too tired to be polite and say no. He stopped himself from sending a message to you once he realized that you had already left. Maybe she's with Anthony, but Jamie shakes his head because fuck that. Jamie Tartt does not get hung over a girl. At least, the old him didn't.
New Jamie had been starting to hope that you stayed in the office longer just so he could see you again, even if you would be busy doing work. He sighs as he decides to leave the building when someone jumps in front to scare him. "Boo!"
"Jesus fucking Christ," he exclaims and steps back before seeing you losing your mind over his reaction. "What'd you do that for?"
"I'm sorry," You apologize in between your laughing fits. "I didn't realize how easily startled you were." After a few more seconds, you finally straighten up and lift two plastic bags.
Jamie gives you a confused look, before you explain, "When we went to watch training, Coach Beard said you've been playing like that the whole day which can only mean one thing; you're in a shit mood. And you don't have to tell me why, but,"
You hand him one of the bags and one whiff tells Jamie it's from that Indian restaurant he loves. "I thought some dinner would cheer you up," Jamie gives you a genuine smile, one you got used to seeing but always love when it shows up. “Because there’s nothing rich people love more than free food.” You add, causing him to roll his eyes.
"Plus, I wanted to make up for not having lunch with you, and celebrate the fact that I now actually have the time to do this again." You continue as the two of you walk over to Jamie's car.
You get in the passenger seat as Jamie turns the car on. The two of you have shared dinner there multiple times before, so you practically had a system for it, and Jamie always "pays you back" by giving you a ride home. You open all the dishes and Jamie quickly starts to devour it.
The two of you enjoy the dinner in silence, — except for the occasional "Pass the pita," or something of the sort — till Jamie decides to ask the burning question that’s been on his mind. "So, how did you and Anthony get so close?" It was an innocent question, but one whose answer could either ease Jamie's thoughts or amplify them ten-fold.
You look up at him, mid-bite, and quickly swallow the food, before replying, "Well, you already know we went to school together, but we were actually seated next to each other for a whole semester, so naturally we became close since we saw each other every day."
Jamie starts to clean up the empty containers but signals you to continue. "To be honest, I kinda liked him back then." Oblivious to how tense Jamie just got, you laugh. "But the crush didn't last long honestly, cause I realized that he wasn't really my type."
Jamie takes the opportunity. "What is your type, then?"
"Oh, hot footballers, naturally." You decide to give a somewhat honest answer, but cloak it in a layer of sarcasm to hopefully throw Jamie off. "Like Richard," You try and convince Jamie with your tone, but you can barely hold in your laughter afterward.
"Oh fuck off," Jamie rolls his eyes, causing you to laugh even harder. "I'm telling him that tomorrow."
"Jamie Tartt, you fucking wouldn't!" You spend the rest of the ride to your flat trying to get him to promise to say nothing, which ends with a pinky promise to secrecy.
—
The next few days are a mix of hanging out with Anthony, eating meals with Jamie, and finishing up work so you can spend the rest of the day chilling at your desk. You almost forgot what it felt like to have free time and actually relax during work breaks.
You arrive at the clubhouse and immediately head to the Coach's office as per Rebecca's instructions to deliver some documents for the season. There, you meet up with Anthony who also had to bring something to Ted.
When you realize the coach hasn't arrived yet, you decide to wait outside the locker room. Anthony turns to you. "Hey, I forgot to tell you yesterday, but Mina's visiting!" Mina was Anthony's girlfriend and also your former classmate, who once again, you haven't seen in two years. You perk up and ask when you’d get the chance to see her.
Anthony pulls out his phone before responding, "I can make a reservation for us somewhere at, 7 pm?" You quickly scan your mental to-do list and once you realize your schedule is free, you nod.
"Yeah, that works! We'll both be done with work, anyway."
The two of you are busy planning out your meeting with Mina that you don't notice Isaac and Colin eavesdropping as they make their way to the locker room. From the snippet that they heard, it sounded like the two of you were planning a night out, confirming their suspicions that there was something going on between the two of you.
They share this with Sam, who tries to reason with them. "Friends can go out to dinner without it meaning anything!"
But as they continue discussing it, the more it becomes harder to deny. I mean, the two of you were always together and not to mention, your shared history. They try and hide this from Jamie, — partly to save themselves from the football player's wrath during training, — but once the morning session was over, they crowd him and quickly explain the situation.
At this moment, Jamie didn't even protest their assumption of his feelings — he had accepted that he wasn’t the best at hiding it from them, — and simply stayed silent, which was incredibly worrying. They decide to leave him be and walk back to their lockers, trying to figure out a game plan. They thought you and Jamie would be great together and a guy from your past was not going to stand in the way of their teammate finding someone, not if they have anything to do with it.
Soon after, Anthony enters the locker room and calls out to Sam. The pair walk away to talk and Anthony starts, "Do you happen to have an open table at Ola's tonight? I'm planning to take someone special there and I know how great the food is."
"Well," Sam considers saying that they're fully booked — which big chance, they are, — and there's nothing he could do, but his guilt at even the thought of lying takes over. "Sure, don't worry." Anthony smiles and thanked the player before heading out, but not before promising that he'd send him the proper details later.
Sam heads back to his two teammates and explains what happened, to which Isaac suggests booking the whole restaurant for the team, crashing their date, and making sure they have no alone time together. Colin adds that they can possibly put something in Anthony's food to force him to go home earlier, which Sam quickly shuts down. They turn to Jamie to get his input, only to find an empty bench instead.
Said teammate was already making his way to your desk to talk. Maybe it was the adrenaline from practice or the fact that he drank three cups of coffee this morning after Roy's training session, but he wasn't going to let you go on that date without saying something.
Jamie makes it up the stairs and finds you typing away at your computer. You meet his eyes for a second, before warning, "Hold on, I'm just finishing this email."
The football player decidedly ignores that statement and exclaims, "Don't go on that date." That gets you to save the email as a draft and look up from your screen. Jamie walks closer to you and you stand up, and steer him to a remote corner. If this was what you thought it was, you’d rather not have the entire office witness it go down.
"I'm sorry, what?" You try and clarify.
"Look, some of the boys told me that you and Anthony are going out tonight and I," Jamie takes a breath, "I couldn't let you go through with it. At least, without admitting that I like you. I have liked you for a while now. I didn’t realize that someone could be so sweet and funny and attractive. It’s fucking insane actually, which is why if you haven’t noticed, I’ve been trying to spend as much time with you as I can. And I know it’s stupid of me to not have admitted it till it’s too late, but if by chance you feel the same, then please do not go on that date and instead, maybe go on one with me?”
You take a step back. The guy who you've secretly been pining over for how many months at this point is now trying to stop you from going on a "date,” and so the only thing you can do is stare at him. You stay like that for a second before regaining your senses and taking his hand into yours and giving him a small smile. "Jamie…"
If there was any right time to admit your feelings, this would be it. You open your mouth to continue, but hear Anthony call out to you. You peek over the corner and when Anthony spots you, he quickly shouts, "Look who stopped by!" and moves to reveal Mina.
"Oh my god, you're here!" You exclaim, but turn back to Jamie who has stopped in his tracks and is still holding your hand. You quickly excuse yourself, "It's so nice to see you, but could you actually give me a minute?"
The couple gives you a curious look before Jamie peeks his head over the corner and Anthony immediately understands. The two of them go back downstairs, and you assume Anthony uses the time to explain to Mina what’s going on.
You turn back to Jamie, hoping that the moment isn't ruined, and find the football player still looking at you intently. You decide to get on with it. "Jamie, I don't know why the team thought we were going on a date, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. The girl you just saw is Anthony's girlfriend, Mina, who we also went to school with." Jamie makes an 'o' with his mouth in realization and you lightly chuckle at his expression.
"She's visiting him for the weekend and we're planning to go out to dinner, the three of us, to catch up. I'm basically going to be a third-wheel all night." At this point, Jamie's expression is a cross of embarrassment and anger, likely directed at his gossiping teammates.
Your mind replays Jamie’s confession earlier. "Jamie, did you mean what you said?" Your voice is practically a whisper, but you just have to be sure. "Like right before we got interrupted?"
Instead of giving you a solid answer, Jamie lets go of your hand and cups your face before connecting your lips. It was a soft and gentle kiss as if the football player was still hesitant, but once you reciprocated it, Jamie's confidence came right back. Fuck, and he had every right to be as cocky as he was. He was an amazing kisser.
You're pressed up against the wall, almost getting lost in it, but you break apart to stop it from escalating further when you feel Jamie's hand travel to your thigh.
"Is that enough of an answer for you?" He asks, resting his forehead against yours as you take hold of his forearms. You simply roll your eyes at how easily Jamie returns to his usual self.
You peak down the corridor and thank the universe that no one passed by during this. The two of you separate and decide to head back downstairs — with Jamie never letting go of your hand, — so you could properly greet Mina.
As you walked, you decide to jokingly question, "Were you really that worried about me going on a date that you had to go all rom-com and tell me not to go?"
Jamie protests, "Well, it's more of the boys' fault, isn't it? They're the ones who got in my head." He pauses for a second. "And don't act like you never wanted something like that to happen to you."
You jab his side and Jamie pretends to be in pain, before laughing it off and slinging his arm on your shoulders. You wrap your arm around his torso. "Only if it's 'one in a million' Jamie Tartt doing it."
You finally find Anthony and Mina in the locker room, with the former introducing her to the players there as his girlfriend. Jamie enters to find the three culprits, looking guiltily at the couple. Minutes after Jamie left, Sam had gotten a text from Anthony saying that their reservation was for three and explained that you were coming along for a reunion dinner with his girlfriend.
The moment they see the two of you enter the room though, Colin, Isaac, and Sam can't help but share a satisfied look, only to be ruined by the glare Jamie sends their way. You laugh at the exchange and only remove yourself from Jamie to greet Mina. You give her a tight hug, confirming Jan's observation that you did greet most of your friends like that.
You pull Jamie towards you and introduce him to Mina, who shares the same teasing look as Anthony. The couple waves at the team to leave and get lunch together. They invite you to join them which you accept, but not before grabbing and squeezing Jamie's hand as a goodbye. The three of you walk away, discussing nearby cafes and restaurants. You hear some cheering from the locker room and you can't help but laugh at how easily the boys reconcile.
Once there's enough distance between yourself and the room, Anthony leans down. "Guess you finally figured out how to talk to boys."
"Who knew it would be Jamie fucking Tartt that managed to get you out of your shell?" Mina adds and you roll your eyes at the pair. They really were made for each other.
#jamie tartt#jamie tartt x reader#ted lasso#jamie tartt fanficition#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tart fic#jamie tartt fluff#ted lasso fanfic#jamie tartt fanfic
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(Once Bitten) Twice Shy
Chapter Eight
Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.
Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader
Story Rating : R Chapter Rating : R
Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Mention of periods (don't worry, we're not doing Saltburn), smutty behaviour, use of toys. More sickening cuteness. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.
Word Count : 5k
A/N : It's not exactly a cliffhanger but I get the feeling people won't like where it ends... Oh also spoilers for Jane Eyre (but it's 170 years old so I'm assuming people know the twist?)
CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN
MASTER LIST
Chapter Eight
The gentle touch of his fingers on your cheek woke you and, for a few seconds, you weren’t sure where you were. Billy was crouched in front of you, smiling softly. Your eyes threatened to close again, feeling exhausted and like all of it was just a dream.
“Hey,” he muttered softly, his fingers still tenderly caressing your cheek. “Are you okay?”
Finally, you managed to wake yourself up enough to realise that you weren’t dreaming, and that you’d fallen asleep on the sofa beneath the yellow blanket Billy had bought for you.
“I’m fine, just tired,” you told him, slowly sitting up.
Billy remained crouched in front of you, tenderly cupping your cheek and looking almost concerned.
“Did you draw too much blood again?”
“No, it's not that. I did that hours ago. I'm just really tired.”
“Just tired?” He pressed the back of his cold hand to your forehead, checking your temperature.
“And my head hurts a little.”
“When is, uh -” he hesitated, almost looking uncharacteristically embarrassed, “- when is your next period due?”
Your cheeks warmed with both the realisation and the fact that Billy had figured it out before you. That was why you felt so awful. “Soon, I think? I-I lost track of the days after I moved in,” you explained, “and I've never been very, uh… regular…”
Thankfully, Billy just nodded and sat himself beside you, an arm around you pulling you into his side.
“Do you need to go lay down?”
“No I - I want to spend time with you,” you told him, resting your head on his shoulder. “We didn't really get to finish talking last night…”
“Was there something else you wanted to say or ask?” Billy asked softly, shifting a little so you could get comfortable against him.
You stayed silent for a few moments, thinking over all of the things you wanted to ask, wondering what you had the right to ask. “What causes it? What makes you feel like everything is... too much? I’ve only ever seen a vampire lose control from hunger...”
“Sometimes it’s hunger,” he offered reluctantly, “other times it’s just... I don’t know. Even before I was turned, I was never any good at controlling my emotions. And, now, I feel like I’m constantly fighting myself. When I’m with you, I feel like I’m drowning. Everything about you; your scent, the taste of your blood, the way your heart races... it’s a lot to try and ignore.”
Although the words were spoken to you, about you, you knew better than to read too much into them. It was the constant proximity, he probably felt that way around any human after enough time. It wasn’t because he felt anything for you.
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It is,” he admitted, waiting for a beat before asking; “why did you apologise? I lost control but you apologised.”
“Because I -” you stopped yourself before the lie managed to leave your lips. It hadn’t been your fault, as difficult as it was for you to accept that fact, you knew it was true. “Because I’ve always been made to feel like it’s my fault when bad things happen to me. The night we met, you asked me what I was running from, and that’s part of it; I was raised to feel ashamed and believe I deserved everything bad that happened to me.”
You heard him inhale sharply before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He was silent a moment before speaking again.
“Who left you?” He asked softly. You lifted your head, frowning. “Last night when you asked why I was leaving you it just… you sounded hurt, like someone had left you before…”
“My sister,” you answered, “she left home when she was eighteen and my parents disowned her because of it. She said she'd come back for me, but she never did.”
“Why did she leave?”
“My parents wanted her to marry a guy she didn’t want to marry.”
“Is that why you left?” He asked and immediately seemed to regret it when your gaze dropped. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”
A moment later, you snuggled back into his side and closed your eyes. “How long until you have to go to work?”
“I can stay another twenty minutes,” he told you softly, slipping his arm around you. He was silent for a few minutes, before letting out a slow exhale. “I’m not going to be able to see you for a few days, it’s not safe for me to be around you while you’re...”
He didn’t have to say it for you to understand and, as much as you wanted to argue with him, you knew it wouldn’t be fair to try and force the issue. Now that you had some idea of how he felt and how much of a struggle it was for him to be around you sometimes, you knew Billy needed space.
“It’s okay, I understand.”
You stayed that way for another twenty-five minutes until you gently reminded Billy that he was going to be late for work. He didn’t seem to want to leave you and it made your heart ache to think about why that might be. Though, rationally, you understood that it wasn’t you; he was just tired. You were finally starting to understand just how difficult and exhausting it was for him just to get through a day.
He gave you a soft kiss and told you that he’d see you again soon.
The next morning when you woke up cramping and feeling terrible, until you found that he’d left a gift basket in your kitchen, filled with things you might need over the coming days; painkillers, chocolates, a new smart-watch with a cycle tracking app, a heating-pad, various toiletries and a large teddy bear with a note pinned to his chest.
I thought you and Bill the Beagle might want some company.
Take care of yourself. I’ll see you soon.
B.
Butterflies filled your stomach at the thoughtfulness of the gifts and, later that afternoon, when you left blood for him, you couldn’t resist leaving him a note of your own.
Thank you for your considerate gifts. William the Bear is a wonderful addition to my growing stuffie collection and the chocolates were lovely. Hope you have a good night at work.
xoxo
The next day you felt even worse but, again, you were pleasantly surprised when you managed to drag yourself to the kitchen to get breakfast and some coffee. There was another box of chocolates and another note waiting for you.
William is a terrible name for a bear. I didn’t expect you to get through the chocolates so quickly, remind me to stock up next month. I hope you’ve not been watching Black Sails without me.
Take care
B.
And, of course - of course - you had to reply, leaving your note with his blood again.
I happen to like the name William. I think it suits him. He looks like a William. I hope you’re not trying to shame me for enjoying the chocolates, truffles and caramels are my weakness. Don’t worry, I’ve not been watching anything without you, I’ve been reading. You were right, Jane Eyre was a very apt choice.
xoxo
His notes became your reason to get up in the morning, though they were a bittersweet reminder of his noticeable absence in your life. It filled you with a strange yearning and an uncomfortable sadness to think about him out there on his own. But that was a silly thought. You didn’t know anything about his life outside of the penthouse, about his work or his friends, maybe he wasn’t even noticing your absence.
(Or maybe he felt it just as much as you did.)
Okay, I have to ask; what does a William look like? Of course I’d never shame you for enjoying the chocolates, but now you’ve told me your weakness I might have to use it to my advantage. I hope you’re enjoying Jane Eyre more than you enjoyed Dorian Gray.
I hope you’re not feeling too bad. I miss our talks.
B.
Your heart stuttered as you read and reread those four little words; I miss our talks. He missed you. Maybe not quite in the same way that you were missing him but, still, it made you long for him even more.
Well, in my experience Williams tend to be cute and cuddly, even though they look a little dark and brooding at first glance. Oh no! Please don’t use my weakness for chocolate truffles against me!!! (The extra exclamation marks are so you read that in a sarcastic tone.) Yes, I think I like Jane Eyre more than Dorian Gray - Mr Rochester kind of reminds me of you.
I’m feeling a bit better today, I should be fine in a couple of days. I miss spending time with you too. I hope you’re not too lonely without me around.
xoxo
You doodled a little picture of the teddy bear he’d given you on the corner of the note but gave him a grumpy looking face and a tag that read ‘my name is William’.
There was a strange feeling of embarrassment when you left the note and you almost changed your mind about it halfway back to your room, and you spent the rest of the evening wondering if it was a little too much.
So, the next morning, you felt a little reluctant to go into the kitchen, and had to take a deep breath before reading his note.
Dark and brooding?? I think you might have to elaborate, but I’ll let you save that for when I see you next. I hope that there will come a point in the book where Mr Rochester doesn’t remind you of me quite so much (I don’t know where you’re up to and I don’t want to spoil it).
I’m glad you’re feeling better. The penthouse isn’t the same without you. It’s strange, you’ve only been here a couple of months yet and it already feels empty without you. I miss you.
B.
P.S. Is the doodle supposed to be me or the stuffie?
It felt like your head was spinning as you read, reread, and read again.
He missed you.
Billy missed you.
You spent half the day writing and rewriting your note to him, in one attempt confessing your feelings, in another acting completely blaise about his confession. Nothing you came up with felt right but the thought of not replying seemed worse.
I see what you mean about Mr Rochester... though I don’t know if I can completely rule out the possibility of you having a strange woman tucked away somewhere in the penthouse. It would certainly explain where all of the chocolates have been going.
I miss you too. I know what you mean, I feel the same way, like I’ve been here longer. But I suppose that’s how things feel when you get close to someone. Hope to see you tomorrow.
xoxo
P.S. I’ll never tell. An artist never reveals her secrets.
There was no end to your relief the next morning when you woke up finally feeling better, knowing that you’d be able to see Billy again. Part of you expected not to find a note, but there it was, waiting for you on your kitchen table, just like the others had been.
I can think of a less mysterious explanation for the disappearance of your chocolates, little hummingbird.
I’m not used to missing people. I’m not used to being close to them either. Some days I feel like my whole life has turned upside down since I met you. I can’t wait to see you again.
B.
P.S. I think it’s magicians that never reveal their secrets, not artists.
Again, he left you searching for deeper meaning in every word, your heart aching for a man who seemed so lonely and alone, a man who didn’t deserve that life at all.
After breakfast you showered and washed your hair, wanting to look your best when you saw him again.
Slowly but surely, over the course of the day, your nerves started to eat away at you; what were you going to say to him? Were you going to pretend that the notes hadn’t happened and that their contents was just idle talk to help the other feel less alone?
You couldn’t sit still as you waited, counting down the hours before sunset, perched on the edge of the sofa and watching his door. The moment it started to open, you were on your feet.
Before he had the chance to even realise that you were there, you’d cleared the distance between you, throwing your arms around his waist and pressing your face against his chest. Billy let out a breath but, for the life of you, you couldn’t tell if it was a sigh of relief or simply because you were squeezing the air from his lungs.
“Hey,” he muttered, his arm slipping around you and holding you almost as tight as you were holding him.
A minute or two passed, neither of you moving or saying anything, until he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and your grip on him started to loosen. You didn’t pull away, but gave yourself enough space to look up at him, smiling shyly as your cheeks started to warm.
“Hi.”
“Hi, hummingbird.”
Neither of you seemed to know what to do or where you were supposed to go from there so, again, you both fell silent, still holding each other. Finally, you dared to reach for him, placing your hand on his cheek. His eyes closed and he leaned into your touch, and butterflies began to swarm in your stomach. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you lifted onto your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his.
It was a soft, chaste kiss, nothing at all compared to some of the kisses that you’d shared, but you felt his lips pull into a smile against yours before his eyes finally opened again.
“I missed you,” he admitted in little more than a whisper.
His hand moved to rest on your neck and you found yourself glad of his cold touch after what seemed like so long without it.
“I missed you too,” you confessed, “I - I missed you more than I probably should have.”
If Billy understood what you were trying to tell him, he didn’t show it. Instead, he just shook his head and smiled before kissing you again.
You sank against him letting him deepen the kiss and turn it into something else, something new. Normally when he kissed you it felt explosive and desperate, like he was laying claim to you, but this kiss was tender and filled with longing, like he was savouring being with you again. It stole the breath from your lungs.
“I missed you,” he muttered again.
“You already said that.”
“I know, I just -” his head shook, and he let out a huffed laugh, “- this has felt like one of the longest weeks of my life.”
“Have you been okay? Was it -” you hesitated, not sure you wanted to ask the question, “- was it easier without me around?”
Billy pulled back a little, frowning. “Why would it be easier?”
“The other night, you said you feel like you’re drowning when you’re with me,” you shrugged a little, letting your gaze drop for a moment.
Before the notes, you’d assumed that everyone made him feel that way, that it was just part of being a vampire for him. But, now, after his last note and after that kiss, part of you longed for him to admit that it was more, that it was you, that he felt something for you, that he cared.
“I was wrong,” he told you, waiting until you looked up again to continue, “I feel like I’m drowning without you.”
“Oh.” Whatever you’d expected, it hadn’t been that.
“It’s a lot. I know it’s a lot -”
“No,” you shook your head, “no, it’s not.”
“I wish I could’ve met you in another life. I wish it wasn’t like this.”
The words caused your chest to ache, understand what he was saying and why because you felt the same way; the situation was a mess and all either of you could do was make the best of it.
There was more you could say - more you wanted to say - but it didn’t feel like the right time, and it wasn’t fair for you to try and push anything when you had every intention of leaving him once you’d finished your year. So, instead, you pressed yourself against him and hugged him tight.
Once you’d managed to pull away from each other, you spent the next hour sitting with him on the sofa, talking while he drank, trading gentle touches and kisses until he needed to leave. You followed him to the elevator, not sure if he was keeping hold of your hand or if it was the other way around.
It took a couple of weeks for things to start to return to some sort of normal between you.
Karen noticed the first time she saw you, mentioning that you seemed distracted as you walked through Central Park together (thankfully with no sign of Madani in sight), but she didn’t bring it up until you were sitting together a week later, having lunch in a little coffee shop.
“Is everything alright with you and Billy?” She asked, deciding to just go for it.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” you answered. And it was fine. You were happy. You just could stop thinking about what he’d said to you and how you wished that things could be just a little bit different so you could both be happy.
“I know Billy’s my friend and you don’t really know me all that well, but you can talk to me if something’s bothering you. Or if he’s done something to bother you.”
There was something in her voice, something knowing that you really didn’t like. But how could she know what was going on with you and Billy, when you didn’t even know yourself?
“Everything’s fine, honestly. It’s great, actually. We’ve been really getting on lately; we’ve been hanging out talking about books and I’ve been making him watch Black Sail on Netflix,” you told her.
Karen nodded, though it didn’t look like she believed you, but she let it drop, leaving you with the sneaking suspicion that she knew a little more about the way Billy was than she wanted to let on.
Your quiet evenings with Billy slowly started to become a little more physical again, though neither of you seemed in a rush to try and push for sex again. Instead, most evenings he’d end up with his head between your thighs, or you’d slip your hand into his pants while you made out. And, even though you found yourself longing for more, you didn’t want to push him. No, you wanted to take things slowly, wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t get overwhelmed again before you took that next step.
Time seemed to fly by and it wasn’t long before the whole penthouse was being turned upside down in anticipation of Billy’s big party; live music, caterers, decorators and, of course, more blood than you felt comfortable seeing in one place. The whole place was transformed over the course of three days and, when the night finally came, you felt almost sick with nerves.
Even Billy had a strange energy about him, checking and double checking every little thing, including a security team from his company whose presence he seemed reluctant to explain to you. You watched from the sofa as he led them around the apartment, explaining where he wanted them and which areas of the penthouse were off-limits. He introduced you to one of them, a human man called Curtis who would be spending the night near the door to your quarters if you needed any help during the night (and, again, Billy didn’t explain what that meant).
A couple of hours before the guests were due to arrive, you went to shower and draw blood before doing your hair and makeup, and getting changed into your dress and shoes. For a few minutes you found yourself staring at your reflection, hoping to find some of the confidence you’d had that night in the dressing room with Billy.
When you stepped out into the penthouse, it only took a moment for his eyes to find you, his jaw threatening to drop as he took in the sight of you. His appearance had the same effect on you; his well tailored tux had you biting your lip.
“Wow, Russo, you really know how to pick them,” Curtis called across the penthouse, earning himself a withering look from Billy and causing your cheeks to heat.
Billy made his way towards you, not bothering to hide the way his eyes were taking in every inch of you. When he reached you, he placed a hand on your hip and kissed your cheek.
“I got you a present,” he told you, using his hand to start guiding you towards the library, pausing momentarily to tell Curtis and his team that they could go take a break before the party started.
Your heart was hammering in your chest as he led you into the library and towards the seldom used desk by the window. Waiting for you were three boxes, each beautifully wrapped in silver paper and tied with black ribbon. Without thought, you found yourself gripping Billy’s arm as your legs threatened to turn to jello beneath you.
He smiled softly, picking up the first box and handing it to you.
“Open it,” he instructed, managing to sound as excited as you felt about this whole exchange.
It felt wrong to destroy the immaculate wrapping, so you took your time, carefully untying the ribbon and peeling open the paper to get at the box. You removed the lid and there, in amongst black tissue paper was an ornate black and silver mask.
“It’s for the party tonight,” he told you when you looked at him for clarification, “we wear the masks until midnight and then take them off. It’s supposed to symbolise vampires being seen by society, but really it’s just an excuse to have fun while no one knows who you are.”
You laughed, head shaking. “Thank you, it’s beautiful.”
But he didn’t give you time to linger, gently taking the box and mask from your hand before offering you the next present, seeming to get more eager with each passing second. He was practically vibrating with excitement.
Your breath caught as you opened the second box. It was a beautiful choker style necklace with diamanté detailing - at least, you assumed that it was diamanté because you couldn’t even start to imagine how much it would have cost if they were real diamonds. For a few seconds you were lost for words.
“Here, let me,” he offered, pulling the necklace from the box before you even had the chance to answer him. Billy stepped behind you, gently draping it around your neck and fastening it for you.
Your fingers immediately reached up to touch it; it felt a little heavy around your neck and you’d never had a choker style necklace before, but the feel of it would be a constant reminder of Billy and you loved that.
“Thank you, Billy,” you finally managed, turning and wrapping your arms around him before pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“There’s one more.” He reached for the last present but seemed a little more reluctant to hand it to you.
And once you’d opened it, you understood why.
“Oh...” said somewhere between shock and confusion.
You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, especially not after the mask and the choker, but a new sex toy certainly wasn’t it. Your cheeks heated as you looked at the box, trying to make sense of it, the words discreet and remote play only confused you more.
“I want you to wear this for the party,” he told you, a hint of nervousness in his voice, “if you want to, I mean. If it’s too much, I get it. I just - I thought we could have some fun. And there’s going to be so many people, I guess I want to know you’ll spend the night thinking about me...”
Your cheeks continued to burn, part horrified by the notion, but a much larger part couldn’t help but find the idea interesting, arousing even. And, after everything that had happened between you, part of you was still longing for more.
“You want me to spend the night thinking about you?” You asked quietly.
“More than anything,” he answered in little more than a whisper, like he knew it was something he shouldn’t say.
It felt like your heart leapt into your throat for a few seconds and you struggled to swallow around it. All you could think about was that night a couple of weeks ago, how he told you it felt like he was drowning when he wasn’t with you, and you knew that you couldn’t say no to him. (You didn’t want to say no to him.)
“Okay,” you finally answered, “how do I...?”
“Let me,” he offered, perhaps a little too eagerly, taking the box from your hand, muttering something about how he’d cleaned it and charged it ready before wrapping it.
You bit your lip, watching as he pulled the purple silicone toy out of the box, knowing that he could hear your heart pounding. Then he kissed you, slipping his tongue between your lips and enjoying you for a few moments. When he pulled back he began to trace your lips with the tip of the toy before slipping it into your mouth, causing your cheeks to burn hotter.
You watched him suck his fingers, leaving them glistening with saliva before dropping to his knees and slipping them beneath your dress and into your panties. His free hand nudged your knee and you parted your trembling legs a little further while his fingers stirred between your folds, wetting you before slowly slipping into you.
You moaned softly as his fingers slowly started to pump inside you, twisting and bending, easily finding that special spot.
Your hands gripped his shoulders, feeling like your legs were going to give out. Another soft moan escaped you when he looked up at you, holding your gaze as his fingers filled you, over and over. You clenched around him as he licked his lips, knowing that he was imagining the taste of your arousal on his tongue.
“You can come whenever you need to,” he told you, smiling up at you like he was in awe of you.
“Billy...” you moaned, your voice muffled by the toy in your mouth, hating how close you were to falling apart.
Your walls clenched and tightened around his fingers again, but you were already so wet that you couldn’t hold onto him or make him slow. There was something about all of this that seemed so obscene, so dirty, and it just made you want it ever more. His fingers hit that sweet spot one more time and it was enough to push you over the edge. Your legs started to tremble and your thighs pressed together, trying to keep his fingers inside you.
And, all the while, Billy smiled up at you.
A needy whine slipped out when he pulled away his hand, but you soon fell silent when he took the toy from your mouth. Your eyes fixed on the bookshelf behind Billy as he inserted the toy, suddenly feeling embarrassed despite everything you’d just let him do. Once he was done, he straightened your panties and made sure your dress was perfect.
Shifting your weight between your legs, you tried to get used to the feeling of the toy while Billy stood up and took out his phone.
“Let’s give it a little test,” he said with an almost mischievous grin on his lips that caused you thighs to clench. Something told you he was going to enjoy this. A lot.
A sudden whimper was pulled from you as the toy started to vibrate.
Billy’s grin grew as his finger swiped on his phone, causing the vibrations to intensify. As good as it felt, a mixture of shame and concern threatened to ruin the moment.
“What?” Billy asked, stopping the vibrations the moment he noticed your discomfort. “If it’s too much, you don’t have to do this.”
“I want to,” you answered shyly, a little embarrassed by just how much you wanted to, “It’s just... what if someone realises?”
He offered a soft smile, placing a hand on your cheek.
“They won’t,” he told you with confidence. “It’ll be too noisy for anyone to hear it, and you’ll be good; you won’t come until we’re alone together and I give you permission.”
His thumb tenderly caressed your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you, his tongue slipping between your lips and wiping away any misgivings you might have had. You wanted to do this. You wanted to give Billy the comfort of knowing that you were thinking about him all night. And you wanted to do it for yourself too. You’d wanted to have new experiences and this was definitely new for you.
“Come on,” he said, slipping his hand into yours, “let’s go have a glass of wine and wait for the guests to arrive. It’s going to be a long night...”
Chapter Nine
End Note : So, originally, this chapter and the party were going all be one chapter, but then I got carried away with the cute notes between reader and Billy. That means next week will be a whole chapter of party shenanigans.
As always, thanks for reading/commenting/liking/reblogging, hope you're enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying writing it! Have a great weekend!
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.
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#billy russo#billy russo x reader#billy russo x female reader#billy russo fanfic#the punisher#billy russo imagine#(ob)ts ff
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Drowning
He knew about his reputation.
It was something hard to ignore, really.
Being the hotshot U-20 of Japan's National Football team and a known flirt, he knew it was hard to ignore him at all.
But Oliver knew his boundaries. He knew exactly when not to cross the line, or rather, he knew when to draw a line as to avoid getting too attached or to lead someone on, and because he knew this, he placed a distance between you and him.
He fell for you a few months after spending time with you. It started as it usually did. He was looking for nothing more than someone to have fun with, maybe kiss sometimes until he grew bored and decided to walk away into something different.
With time, however, he realized he couldn't quite do that, he couldn't just walk away from you. You showed him endless empathy and care. So he distanced himself and resigned to just be your friend, nothing more.
And in attempts to push away the feelings he harbored for you and his problems with commitment, not wanting to push his fears and insecurities into you, he moved on to date several women, with little luck. None of them where you.
It started with little details, they weren't as kind as you, didn't like the same things you did, didn't treat people they way you did... They weren't you.
The girls were great, really, and he would've found himself having fun if he had met them before he met you.
He figured he was in deep shit when out of pure reflex he ordered what you liked instead of what his date had asked for, he apologised and changed the order but it was too late for him. He loved you, or at least had big feelings for you. Feelings he couldn't ignore anymore.
In this process he expected you to leave, get tired and sick of his playboy antics, but you showed him otherwise. You stood by his side as he threw up from being almost black-out drunk from a party, let him sleep in your couch when his insecurities got to him in the middle of the night, woke him up with breakfast and a coffee but most of all, you stood by his side as a friend would do.
"That's what friends are for, right?" You had told him once while smiling at him, taking a sip of your drink he bought for you after he'd taken you out to celebrate your end of finals week. After he had asked why were you putting up with him all these months.
Yeah... Friends...
His smile faltered a little and he felt his heart squeeze in between his ribcage. He fixed his expressions quickly and chuckled looking away from you... A friend... Is this his karma for having played around so much? Was he doomed to chase after someone he couldn't have because he'd inevitably hurt them?
You caught on his low mood, frowning softly and reaching for his hand, "Oli, are you okay?" Your touch burned his skin and soothed his heart. "Yeah.. yeah, I'm fine, I ..uh... I just have a lot to think about, sorry"
You smiled, but didn't move your hand away, after all, you liked him, but you didn't dare get too close.
Oliver was like the ocean, pretty but also deathly, go too deep and you'll drown yourself. You weren't so sure if you could withstand the pressure off the water, so you sat at the shore, watching the waves roll and crash against the surface.
After a while, you decided to head home, waking together, hands brushing but never holding on, shoulders close but never touching, heard yearning for eachother but both too scared to reach out to the other.
As time passed, you found yourself distancing from the shore, deciding all this pinning was going to kill you one day. So you sealed off your yearning of the cold water and deep waves of the ocean that was Oliver Aiku.
But the ocean doesn't go anywhere.
Oliver stayed, desperately growing the tide so it kissed your skin, hoping to bring you to him.
Your friendship began to grow weaker by the weeks that passed, schedules not lining up, friend dates being pushed back farther and farther away.
Oliver felt like he was drowning.
So, he made the first move, reaching your house and knocking on the door, watching you appear in your usual pijamas.
"hey... Sorry I came unannounced...I just.. I'm not comfortable with how far apart were growing and I wanted to surprise you."
You laughed softly and invited him in, moving aside to let him into your home.
Maybe, just maybe, this meant you could turn back to face the water, walk knee deep into the ocean and stay there.
#blue lock#bllk#bllk x y/n#blue lock scenarios#bllk headcanons#blue lock x reader#bllk oliver#oliver aiku#oliver aiku x reader#blue lock oliver#aiku x reader
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Choices
I'm currently in the middle of flying overseas for my schl's exchange trip and yes I typed this all out whilst turbulence was crazy it was not a fun experience.
Summary: You and Astarion talk the night before you confront Cazador
"I thought you did your brooding in your tent."
"Sometimes, my dear, a change of scenery is good for brooding." He looks up at you, shifting to the right a little. You sit down in the spot created, legs dangling over the edge just like his. His shoulder gently brushes against yours as he turns his gaze back to the sprawling city that is Baldur's Gate. You follow the direction of his gaze, taking in the flickering lights of the city at night and breathe in the crisp cool air.
"So, what's the brooding about on this fine night?" You turn to look at him, admiring the way his curls gently sway in the breeze, the way the moonlight highlights the silver of his hair. He was always beautiful, elegant, handsome, all at the same time, with that hint of sorrow in his ruby red eyes. The same pair of eyes shift to rest on you, taking in your splendour and searches for a way to put his thoughts into words. He isn't even sure what the brooding is about today, all he knows is that he wanted some time away from camp, away from the rest of the party and their energy so that he can take in what will happen tomorrow. He wasn't expecting any company, the others knew better than to disturb him but yours is a welcomed one, lest his thoughts drown him.
"Everything, I suppose." He hums, turning back to look at the city again. It's been a while since he's set foot in those streets, and the last time he was here he was a slave to Cazador, prowling the streets at night for naive prey. Now he's back, free from Cazador's control, free to walk in the same streets in the sun, free to do whatever he wanted. He couldn't be forced to bow to someone else's whims, he was his own person and could choose his own path, as you had told him many times over. Sometimes, he still struggles to comprehend that, he's been a slave for so long that thinking about himself is something long lost to him, but you're patient, catching him when he falls along the way, never demanding anything of him.
"It's been a while since we were last here." You nod. "It is a lot to take in, so many things have changed."
"Everything has changed." He whispers, but you catch his words. Resting your hand on top of his, you give it a gentle squeeze followed by a soft smile of reassurance, the silent promise reaffirmed. He blinks, slowly, and returns the smile, a smile he only ever shows you. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Neither would I." You agree. "I like the change."
"If you keep complimenting me like that, my love, I will have to return the favour." He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Are you sure you're ready for that?"
When he leans in closer, you start blushing. His lips are a hair breadth's away from yours, tantalizingly close yet so far and you yearn to close the gap but you wait for him to make the move. He pauses, seeking your approval before closing the gap, feeling the softness of your lips, your sweet taste flooding his mouth. His kiss is gentle, filled with yearning and uncertainty, just like his current turmoil of emotions. You kiss back, never wanting to let him go but your need for air forces you to and the both of you part unwillingly.
"Tomorrow we confront Cazador," he murmurs.
"We do. Together." You say firmly. "You're not doing this alone, we'll all be right there by your side."
He gives you a sad smile, "I still…I still worry. I don't know if I can do this, if I can fight him."
"If you can't, we'll fight him on your behalf. Don't worry, we'll make sure he pays dearly." You feel an anger burn deep within you at the vampire lord, swearing vengeance on him for Astarion's sake, but you also know in the end, Astarion will have to be the one dealing the final blow, or Cazador will have him forever, even in true death. It doesn't matter if your party manages to defeat Cazador without Astarion, if Astarion doesn't defeat Cazador, it will all have been for naught.
"But what if Cazador tells them about all the things I've done? What if that causes them to turn on me? You and I can't win that fight." His hands tremble, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. "What if Cazador still has control over me and forces me to attack you?"
"Then we'll make sure none of those come to pass."
"He's a vampire lord, Y/N! He's powerful, terrifying, he —"
"Isn't the worst thing we have and will face. We've stared down one of the Dead Three and we know we have to defeat an elder brain controlled by the Crown of Karsus, Cazador is nothing compared to them. If we can survive a fight with Myrkul and emerge victorious, we can defeat Cazador before he gets the chance to open that damned hole he calls a mouth." You snarl out the last part, much to Astarion's surprise. His lip quivers and he feels tears start to stream down his face, the liquid quickly cooling in the night air. His shoulders start shaking with silent sobs and you panic. This was not the reaction you wanted out of him, this was far from the reaction you were looking for.
"I'm sorry Astarion! I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry, I —" Before you can blabber on, he wraps his arms around you tightly, burying his face into your shoulder, effectively silencing you.
"You didn't say anything wrong. You said everything perfectly, like you always do." He sniffs, adjusting his hug. He buries a hand in your hair whilst the other rests on your back. "You're always full of surprises."
"Well, that is one of my strengths," you smile, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. You return the hug, nuzzling into his hair and simply hold him while he lets everything out.
Astarion cannot deny that he's still worried about facing Cazador, that the very thought sends his undead heart thundering in his chest. In his two hundred years under Cazador, not once had he ever thought about standing against Cazador, all that fight had been long beaten out of him, but that all changed when you crashed into his life, dragging a few others along with you. To think that one day, he would find the courage to fight Cazador alongside people he considered friends (to a certain degree), that he would find someone he wanted to devote his life to. If he told his past self about this, his past self would have scorned him, told him to stop dreaming and face the reality of an eternal life as Cazador's puppet. But this was real, all this was real. He wasn't dreaming, he was in reality, a reality he had thought was long lost to him.
Your warmth washes over him, anchoring him in the reality that is his. When the sun dips below the horizon tomorrow, the future will be his to dictate. His and his alone. Looking into your eyes that hold so much love for him, he decides right there and then. He chooses to have you in the future that awaits him, he chooses to forge a future where the both of you can be together, unbound by fear.
He chooses you.
#baldur's gate 3#bg3#astarion bg3#baldurs gate astarion#astarion romance#astarion x durge#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion x you#astarion ancunin#tavstarion#durgestarion
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As Iron Sharpens Iron
"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17
Beta-read by @dragonrider9905
Chapter 4:
Previous // Next
Warnings: Mentions of sexual and romantic attraction. Jealousy. Confusing feelings.
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Hunter let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His initial desperation and anger dissipated into a confused silence.
Was he letting his personal feelings cloud his judgment? Were you really, truly fine and he’d just driven you to anger with his incessant worry?
Maybe it was him who’d changed, projecting onto you the frustration of feelings he didn’t understand.
Am I making this all up?
“Hunter?” Omega slid down the ladder from her room, her small face lined with concern.
Kriff. She'd seen the whole thing.
He turned to face her. “What's up, kid?”
“Is she okay?” Omega looked past the ramp where you'd gone out only seconds ago.
“I… I'm not sure, Omega. She said it's fine though. I trust her.”
She didn't look convinced. “I dunno… She looked really mad. And really sad.”
Hunter shrugged. “She said everything was fine.” He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince more - Omega or himself.
Omega sighed, putting a hand on his arm. “Don’t be dumb, Hunter. It isn’t remotely fine! She is definitely not ok. She's mad!”
Hunter sighed. He knew she was right. He could read her body language and it did not match her words. Guilt twisted and churned through his guts like seasickness.
“How do you know that?”
Omega shrugged. “I read it on the holonet! Tech had some sites up on his datapad when I borrowed it. Sometimes if a woman says she’s fine, it means she's actually really not fine.” Omega paused and scratched her arm. Her nose wrinkled in confusion. “I mean, I don't really get it, but that's what it said. Though, I don't understand why you'd say one thing but mean the exact opposite.”
Hunter's expression mirrored her own. “Yeah. I'm not really sure either, kid. All I know is things were definitely a lot easier when we were just blowing up Seps.”
And apparently I need to talk to Tech about leaving his datapad lying about. He made a mental note to himself. The last thing he needed was Omega accidentally coming across something she definitely shouldn’t be seeing at her age.
He stood for a moment as Omega grabbed her trooper doll and Lula, carrying them back up the ladder to her room. Wracking his brain, he tried to think of something - anything he might’ve done wrong to upset their companion.
Hunter sighed, sitting heavily in the cockpit chair as Tech worked silently beneath the console.
“What am I supposed to do, Tech?” He hit the wall beside him with a fist, the loud clang earning a scowl from Tech as he poked his head out from under the console.
“What are you talking about? And please don’t hit my ship, I just fixed that panel.”
Hunter drew his arm back, resting it on the armrest instead. “Sorry,” he said glumly.
“It’s fine,” Tech grunted, grabbing another tool before sliding back beneath the console.
“I just don’t know what to do about her!”
“Who? Omega?” Tech’s voice was muffled, nearly drowned out by the sudden buzz of a plasma tool.
“No, not Omega.” Hunter rolled his eyes. His brother could be so oblivious sometimes.
“Ah,” Tech slid out from his workstation again. “Well, what about her?”
Hunter folded his arms across his chest. “She’s just been acting so weird lately.”
“Weird how?” Tech grabbed another tool.
Hunter shrugged. “I don’t know. She leaves the room whenever I walk in. Lately she only ever talks to me when it’s about a job and then it’s only a ‘yes sir’ or a ‘you got it Sarge.’”
“I fail to see how that is a problem.”
Hunter grunted, “It just isn’t her. She isn’t acting like herself.”
“And you’re concerned that this change in behavior will affect her field performance?”
“I…” Hunter hesitated, “Well yeah, but not just that. It’s just…” Hunter paused again, trying to find the words. “It’s just that we’re a team. All of us. I thought if there was something wrong, she’d come talk to me like she used to.”
The whir of a hydrospanner filled the silence before Tech spoke again. “Did you ask her to explain her actions?”
“Yeah. Or at least I tried to but she just said she was fine.”
“But you do not think she’s telling the truth?”
Hunter shrugged. “I was gonna let it go but Omega overheard us and basically yelled at me that saying ‘I’m fine’ means she isn’t actually fine.”
“That seems counterintuitive.” Tech frowned.
Hunter shook his head looking perplexed. “Maybe it’s one of those woman things?”
“Hmm, mood swings and irritability are both symptoms of a woman’s menstrual cycle.”
Hunter scoffed, “Where did you read that?”
Tech poked his head out from beneath the console. “The holonet. I figured that I should do some research on the physiology of the opposite sex since we now have two of them aboard the ship and our education on Kamino was less than sufficient on the subject.”
“We didn’t get any education on that subject.”
“Precisely.”
“I guess that probably was a smart thing to do.”
Tech rolled his eyes, “Of course it was. Did you expect any less?”
Hunter smirked. “I guess not.” His smile faded as he ran a hand down his face. “Did your research tell you what I’m supposed to do with her?”
“Many of the articles on the subject recommended using a heating pack or massage therapy for her physical discomfort. Some suggested that bringing her food - specifically chocolate - may improve irritability.”
Hunter thought for a moment. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.” He sighed, “I just don’t want to lose her.”
Tech sat his hydrospanner down and adjusted his goggles. “Indeed. She is a useful asset.”
“Yeah, she is but - “ The sound of soft footsteps interrupted him. He groaned, getting up from his seat. Omega was supposed to have gone back to bed. “Omega?”
When there was no reply, he sat down again shaking his head. “That kid’s something else.”
“Yes. She does have a tendency to disregard orders. Much like us.”
“Yeah.” Hunter rested his chin on his fist.
Tech stood up, brushing dust off of his pants. He looked at his brother.
“You are still thinking about her?”
Hunter groaned again. “I just don't know what to do anymore, Tech! She's not just a member of the team to me! When that shot blew the landing gear the other day, I was terrified that she'd been injured! I find myself thinking about her all the time. She can fight like hell, she's pretty, and smart. I just don't want her to walk away if there's something I could've done!”
“You mean to say that you are experiencing romantic feelings towards her?”
“Definitely not.” Hunter stated defensively. “We’re clones. That’s not in the cards for us.”
Tech raised an eyebrow. “The war is over and we are no longer soldiers of the Republic. Therefore, their rules and regulations no longer apply.” He frowned, “And besides, since when have we ever done as we’re told?”
Hunter was silent. As much as he hated to admit it, Tech did have a point.
Tech frowned in concentration, scrolling through his datapad. “Do you experience an elevated heart rate when in her presence?”
“I guess?”
“Do you value her thoughts and opinions?”
“Of course I do!”
“Do you find yourself wanting to be close to her physically and/or emotionally?”
“...Yes,” Hunter felt almost reluctant to answer.
Tech looked up with a smirk, “Well, then according to this and several other sources, you have in fact, fallen in love.”
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ok big question as someone looking at ENM, which my partner has also expressed interest in. I know myself to have too little spoons to be aware of more than one person at a time. I dread that pursuing someone else, even if just for a night, takes away resources from me that would make my main partner feel neglected. That and the general idea of neglecting to work on the relationship when there's a whole array of companions ready to serve a good time w/ no deeper work involved. What would you consider an ideal way to negotiate with these feelings?
You're touching on something that I've been wanting a word for for some time.
In nonmonogamy circles (I will not use the term ENM, because categorically declaring yourself to be ethical to be seems like a huge barrier to recognizing the ways in which you are not), there is much talk of jealousy -- the feeling that one's partner is not giving them enough attention and love. But there's comparatively little talk about the guilt one can feel about not giving enough love and attention to one's partner. That troubling sense that you are not showing up enough for everybody, that you are in some sense leaving a long-term partner behind.
I suffer from this guilt more than jealousy, much of the time. I find that I cannot be emotionally available to any kind of new partner because my heart is lingering in another room, waiting and longing for the partner I'm already attached to, and i'm anxious to dash off and get back to them as soon as I can, to make sure they feel cared for and to ensure I don't lose them. This happens even when I have a primary partner who fully does not mind that I'm off with somebody else, and does not feel insecure or jealous. I'm still intensely attached and anxious to reinforce that attachment. I have a horny slutty body, but a monogamous heart.
I think you may find, if you pursue nonmonogamy, that your attachment to your partner means a lot to you and quite difficult for a new relationship to replicate. Though the thrill of a new relationship or sexual encounter can certainly pull one's focus, most of the people you'll hook up or try dating won't share that spark with you that you share with your partner, and regardless, you won't have the shared history or bond there.
Other people won't be "easy" either -- they will come with their own host of traumas, insecurities, expectations, annoying quirks, hangnails and bad breath and baggage from their exes. It's true that some nonmonogamous people use new partners to try and fill what holes they perceive in their own lives, but they always fail if that is their outlook, because humans aren't an easily expended resource, they're a source of pain and annoying complexity just as much as delight.
Sometimes dating new people makes you aware of just how aligned you and your partner are on a variety of domestic life issues and long-term plans. Other times, yes, some long-neglected corner of yourself is rekindled by a new person and it's thrilling and you do feel called to open up more space in your days for them. And that can be tough, but it's also fine. But I generally wouldn't head into nonmonogamy with the expectation that it's going to be all fun and effortless sex with a cadre of available strangers. No, it's gonna be a fuckin pain in the ass, as all human relationships must be -- lots of tedious negotiations, awkward stumblings over who is going to pay the bill at dinner, farts in the bed, tantrums, bored moments watching some movie they love but you hate, cute chit-chat while petting their cats, and just all the other mundane stuff that makes a life.
And you gotta be ready to treat the new people you are dating like full people, too, by the way -- not see them as either a looming threat to your other relationship that you must steel yourself against, or as an ever-flowing river of pleasure that you think you're gonna drown in. Both those outlooks can become very dehumanizing, and I have often seen that when a couple opens up their relationship, it is their *new* partners who get overlooked and shafted and treated like shit, not their existing long-term partner. So that's something to be really aware of too, I think -- remember that you are getting to know a whole person and there are a lot of responsibilities that come with that, if it's anything other than an anonymous cruising hookup.
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hiiii ! ^_^ I love your writing sm
I was listening to music just relax, and randomly I thought of MC with "You're loosing me" AND I HAD TO SHARE IT WITH SOMEONE. Especially from minute 3:00 to the end 😭😭😭😭 imagine a fic inspired in that song with a traumatized mc after their death 🥲
hiya!! i'm so glad 🫶🫶🫶🫶 tbh i dont really listen to taylor so i had to look up this one, but oml it kinda does fit MC sm???!!!
honestly tysm for the ask, i don't normally write seriousish fics so this was a fun change grma <3
ALSO IM SO SORRY THE TITLES SO CRINGE I COULDNT THINK OF A GOOD ONE
Surface Tension- Obey Me x Reader
Summary: MC died 😱 and reincarnated as a demon, only their death affected them more than they thought. Word Count: 2.8k+ Warnings: Mentions of Death, leans more into Lucifer x Reader, especially at the end. (i am so sorry abt that I had no idea where this fic was going myself tbh) Descriptions of drowning. Hurt/Comfort? I have no idea how to write trauma I am so sorry, (this isn't apart of my 'Death is a Debatable thing Au) dividers are a mixmatch of ones by @plum98 @isisjupiter and @cafekitsune bc im indecisive
The thing you missed most were your pact marks. Intricate designs etched into your skin, that shone the colours of the people you loved, a reminder you were someone. You had something. A security blanket of sorts. Now they were gone, clear glass sin, almost poreless, uncanny replaced the lines and marks and humans´ perfect imperfection that provided a canvas for the hues that you were sure had painted your heart.
It hurt.
You fiddle with your hands, trying to contain the urge to just...pop. The horns and the tail had been disorienting to get used to. You still preferred your 'human' form, the only issue was controlling it. It would come with time, or so everyone had told you.
They told you a lot of things would come with time. You weren't so hopeful.
"I....it's just-" you flick your gaze around the room, looking anywhere but the demon in there with you. "...the dying part..."
"The dyin' part..." Mammon sits by your side, ever your first man, his eyes gaze at you, so loving, so adoring, it hurts your heart. "I don't understand the dyin' MC....I couldn't never understand the dyin'...." He brings a hand to rest on yours hesitantly, his false bravado nowhere to be found.
"I know you don't Mams..." You meet his gaze, his eyes as blue as the sky on a summer's day, warmer than the sun, and softer than silk when he looks into yours.
"It doesn' mean I won't try te....understand...I mean." He clears is throat awkwardly. "There's nothin' I wouldn't do for ye...not now not ever."
Your heart feels heavy.
Rushing water beats against porcelain. Steam slowly rose in swirls as the bathtub filled up. You fold your towels and set them by the sink beside the clothes you had set out. Pulling the satin robe that was a gift from a certain Asmodeus, you placed it on one of the hooks on the door, before twisting the taps to a stop. You submerged yourself into the warm water, your tense muscles relaxing as you leaned backwards in the tub from where you were sitting, legs touching the bottom of the porcelain.
It had been so long.
So long since you were able to just relax like this. You loved the brothers and the others, but sometimes you needed the solitude of your own thoughts. That wasn’t to say Asmo’s self care nights weren’t relaxing.
You sighed.
The water enveloped you, you had leaned back enough to where your head had begun to submerge. All was well. The water was warm, your muscles slowly relaxed, along with the rest of your body. Your eyes slowly blinked closed.
All was fine. Your relaxed muscles let your head fall back. All was well. Your ears were now submerged. All was fine.
Except it wasn’t. A switch had flicked. Your eyes shot wide open. You could no longer feel the bottom of the porcelain bathtub, panic and dread tugged at your arteries, squeezing your jugular. You flailed and thrashed your limbs, your head dipped under for a millisecond.
Clear water turned murky.
Your arms burnt after another weak attempt, head breaking the stormy surface of the lough for a moment; only a moment. Hardly long enough to draw a breath. Your eyes stung. Your throat ached, desperation choked at your airways.
You found yourself submerged again. The currents slammed into rocks. Your hair rose upwards, strands sticking to your face like some sort of seaweed, hindering your vision as the waves flung you against hard rock. Your hands clawed at the stone, too slippery to catch a grip. The stormy water slammed you against another rock. You broke the horrid surface of the water, gasping and spluttering. Your throat burned like sinners in the 7th circle of hell. You just barely gasped in a morsel of oxygen before being dragged under by the force of the waves.
You were slammed mercilessly into another hard wall of stone, your attempts at clawing for a grip so desperate you drew blood at your fingertips.
You had survived demons, witches, angels. You had survived hell. Yet earth would be the one to take you out, so it seemed. You couldn’t hold your breath any longer, your mouth opened. You inhaled desperately, lungs aching for air. Water filled them instead.
You gasped and spluttered. The surface of the water too rough to do a dead man’s float without risking your life further. The waves smacked you against hard rock once more, eroding at your hopes for survival.
This was it.
You were going to die. You’re drowning. You’ve drowned.
The last thing you felt before you succumbed to the wild waves was the dull glow of your pact marks. With the last of your strength, you let out a silent scream, submerged by the water.
You screamed. Frenzied hands pull your sobbing form out of the clear water of the bath pulling your soaked, sobbing form to their chest. You gasp for air, lungs burning.
“MC! Y-you’re fine! Don’t worry…you’re okay…you’re okay…!” An uncharacteristically frenzied Beel holds you to his chest, massive arms enveloping you, he cards a gentle hand through your hair as you sob and upheave, your chest tight and your breath running from you. “You’re okay MC….follow my breathing…”
Hardly hearing him, you comply either way. Matching the breaths of the sixth born, your heart rate begins to slow, your breathing begins to even. Eventually, you sit wrapped in the arms of the Avatar of Gluttony, breathing deeply and slowly, your heart rate slowed, your sobs quitened to the occasional sniffle, the tightness in your chest remains.
You chuckle humourlessly. “I’m sorry Beel….got your clothes all wet.”
Beel shakes his head seriously, eyes on yours. “It’s never a problem. Not if it’s you MC.” He stands up with you still in his arms. Carefully, the redhead sets you down on your two feet. Strong hands on either side of you, a stabliser. “C’mon…let’s get you dressed MC…can you stand?”
Slowly you nod.
That night you found yourself in the living room, Belphie asleep, head on your shoulder. Mammon splayed across your lap, Asmo’s arm around your waist, Beel was on the other side of his twin, but held your hand, rubbing soothing circles subconsciously into your palm. Levi sat on the ground, switch in hand, cheek leaning against your thigh. Satan and Lucifer sat on the nearest armchairs though they sat facing opposite each other, Lucifer half reading official documents, half watching the show his brothers and little human demon were watching, Satan doing the exact same, except his reading material was a book.
You weren't sure how or if they knew what had happened an hour prior, but you were sure they knew this would cheer you up in some capacity.
You squeezed Beel’s hand, the knot in your chest coming undone just enough you feel light.
The transition from Human to Demon was a hard one to get used to, one thing that hadn't changed however; were the balls hosted by Lord Diavolo. The only difference being that now you sported curved horns on the top of your head. You quickly found that Asmo liked to decorate them with little trinkets.
Which he had done today, as well as helping you pick out your outfit for the ball. You gave a twirl in one of his full length mirrors.
"Thanks Asmo I love it." You smile, messing with an ornament on your horn. Those are taking a while to get used to.
Asmodeus laughs gleefully, waving his hand. "It was nothing darling. I'd love to do it again! Oh...~ You look so gorgeous...." He says dreamily before he turns back to his makeup, carefully lining his lips in a dark pink.
You blush at the praise before leaving the room, not wanting to risk being (fashionably) late.
"MC!" Lord Diavolo greets cheerfully, pulling you in for a hug against his bare, tanned chest. The gold in his eyes and horns glow like fire in the light of the ballroom. "I'm so glad you could make it! You look stunning!" He laughs, strong arms wrapping tighter around you.
You smile, "I'm glad to be here, Dia."
"I'm glad..." He says softer now. If the both of your words were an innuendo, neither of you pointed it out.
Barbatos appears silently at the left hand side of the Demon Prince, shaking your hand, you give him a sweet smile.
You barely get to greet him before the Demon Butler swiftly makes his way across the ballroom, and out of the glazed, oak door that led to a short corridor and then led to the kitchens.
After more peasant conversation with Diavolo, another Demon Noble had arrived, the scarlet haired prince pouted at the thought of leaving you before waving and making his way towards one of Hell's Aristocrats.
You wave him goodbye, you scan the Ballroom, eyes locking with violet ones. The seventh born gives a small smirk, lazily making his way toward you.
Belphegor had seen your dreams. He had felt the water pool into your lungs, the air escaping your grasp, the harsh bruising of the rocks you were slammed into.
He saw every dream, tried to stop them from reaching you. Sometimes he failed, your mind wanted to return to that moment. To pick it apart, to relive what it didn't understand itself, to find an impossible answer.
Sometimes your mind, your wonderful, horribly beautiful mind; would be too adamant, would loop back to it.
He didn't protect you. Not when he first betrayed you, not when he crushed your bones in his grip.
He couldn't protect you. Not when you were flung from rock to rock, sharp edges digging into fragile skin. Not when water burnt through your throat like fire.
He couldn't protect you. Not when your dreams bypassed his control. Not when the thin threads of your trauma induced nightmares slipped through the cracks.
The Avatar of Sloth could only do so much, yet, it never felt like enough. He couldn't protect you.
"Hey Belph!" You grin, closing the distance between the two of you. "You seem distracted, whats up?"
Belphegor snaps out of it, lips upturning. "Oh nothing, I just thought of something for the Anti-Lucifer League....What about you, MC, enjoying yourself?"
"For the most part yeah! But I haven't seen Mammon anywhere...." You say thoughtfully before deadpanning. "He's going to be strung up upside down by tomorrow morning, isn't he?"
"Yep."
Hours passed, a sleeping Belphegor had been handed over to Beelzebub, who was currently carrying his twin home. You were tempted to ask to join, but decided against it.
You weren't made of glass, you had agency. You could handle a silly ball.
Standing in one of the corners, beverage in hand, you'd elected to just people watch for a while.
Levi sat semi-hidden by a curtain at the grand window, switch in hand, noise cancelling headphones in, no doubt reaching the end of his social battery.
Satan stood at the other side of the Grand Hall, talking with contacts and connections you couldn't recognise. Golden blond hair perfectly in place. Asmo must've fixed it up for him.
Speaking of Asmo, he was on the dance floor with various succubi, giggling, smiling, and just in general being a social butterfly.
Mammon however, was still no where to be seen. Probably looking for treasure. Classic Mams. You smile to yourself.
Lucifer stood, being entertained by admirorers of all shapes and sizes. You stiffened.
Sometimes you forgot the brothers were Hell's Most Eligible Bachelors. It was easy to forget, seeing as you lived with them, and they were all idiots.
You could feel Levi's worried eyes on you none the less. Your stomach twisted with his sin, orange as a yolk, what came first? the chicken or the egg? You didn’t know nor did you care. Why would Lucifer choose you anyway? A weak human demon who couldn’t even survive a…-
You gripped your drink tightly, knuckles lightening. You took a sip, but with your tense muscles, the liquid burnt its way down the wrong side of your throat.
You spluttered.
Even the droplet. Even the sip. It grew, multiplied even, filling your lungs like goop, you gasped for air. The ballroom flooded a murky green. Stumbling, you pushed through the oak door to the hallway, where it was quieter.
Your heart beat out of your chest, your breathing was laboured, leaning against the wall, you lost your boyancy, dripping down until you sat on the ground, knees to your chest.
You stayed like that for a moment, catching your breath, engaging your senses.
Three things you could hear;
Idle chatter from the ballroom, completely muffled by the heavy wooden door and stone walls. Your own laboured breathing, although it was catching up to you. The blood rushing in your ears, evaporating from a rapid raging river to a small sparkling stream.
Three things you could see;
The stone wall, dark liath limestone blocks and bricks melded together, midievil in their design, they reflected the light of the overheard torches in a subtle, orange glow. The glazed panes of a glass window, the moon shone bright tonight, as it always did in the Devildom. You liked to think it was watching over you. Maybe it was.
If you turnt your head to the left, an archway was visible, a simple one. It dug into the stone wall and ceiling, pushing against the internal structures, standing out whilst holding together.
You continued your listing, smell and taste were ruled out, on account of you not being able to taste, and there not being any real noticable smells.
Three things you could feel;
The fabric of the clothes Asmo chose for you streched on your skin, the seams digging into your thighs where you sat on the ground.
The stone floor, hard and cold, even with the layers you had on, you shivered ever so slightly.
And lastly, you could feel the phantom ache of pact marks long faded, your heart heart, though it had stopped beating out of your chest. You felt calmer, more in control, yet still;
You sniffled.
After all; you didn’t have the best track record for keeping your head above water.
That’s how Lucifer found you. The door hissing open and his signature boots clacking softly along the ground announced his presence.
“MC, my love, are you alright?” He raises an eyebrow, The Avatar if Pride putting his aside and hunkering down so that he was more or less eye level with you, concern pooled in his expression. He reached a gloved hand out and caressed your cheek.
You nod, croaking out an "I'm okay now..."
"Are you sure, my darling?" The first born looks into your tired eyes, before tilting his head, asking for permission. You grant it.
He pulls you in for a hug.
"What upset you, dove?" He asks softly, rubbing soothing circles on your back.
"I-...I just feel like I've...like I've lost you all...and myself I guess...It sounds stupid! I know...but I just...-"
Lucifer hushes you, "Nothing you could say could ever sound stupid. He pauses. "Unless you're with Mammon...or planning something with Satan and Belphie."
That squeezes a giggle out of you. He smiles, tilting his head, a strand of raven hair falling ever so out of place at the movement, crimson eyes stare into yours.
"But that's not all, is it, dear?"
You mumble something unintelligible, but count on Lucifer Morningstar to hear it. "Have I told you yet? That you look absolutely gorgeous tonight, MC?" He asks in all seriousness. You avert your gaze.
He grabs your chin softly, "I'm serious, Darling. You're the best person at this ball, the best thing that has ever happened to my brothers...to me. Sometimes I feel you truly don't realise that...seems I must take care to remind you more often, my love."
You try to speak, but the air swallows up your words, your mouth open and gaping like a fish.
Lucifer's lips quirk up, he pulls you closer to his chest. You lean into him, giving a weak smile, ear pressed against his breast, listening to his heartbeat.
You felt calm; content even,
T he hug wasn't a fix it all. It wasn't some magic wand that had been waved, you weren't suddenly better. You were still traumatised, that emptiness, though dull, still ached in your heart, along with the places on your body the bright beautiful symbols of your pacts had been sketched onto your skin.
The hug was comforting none-the-less. Lucifer was impossibly gentle. He would cradle the ashes until you built yourself back up again in his arms, phoenixes need time to adjust before they can spread their wings, after all.
It would be hard. It would be so so difficult, so taxing, to rise from the ashes once more, to thrive again, but you had an army of idiots that loved you, who would go to the ends of the earth just to see you smile. It wasn't okay yet, you weren't 'fixed', you wouldn't be for a long time but you had years upon years, decades upon decades, centuries upon centuries.
i physically cannot write anything overly angsty bc im a wee softie smh this took me ages i am so sorry abt that </3 also i had another ask that i started planning out halfway through writing this and the contrast in the tone i was going for is so funny🧍♂️
#obey me imagines#obey me shall we date#obey me x reader#obey me headcanons#obey me mc#obey me mammon#obey me lucifer#obey me leviathan#omswd#obey me mc x lucifer#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me hurt/comfort#obey me fluff#obey me angst#obey me scenarios#obey me drabble#ask
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This is going to be hard to articulate properly, but I feel like there's a strange phenomenon where some people will amplify intersex people on the topic of IGM and condemn IGM without issue (which, to be clear, in and of itself, is a good thing) but then are entirely ignorant to, sometimes because of genuine ignorance, but too often due to the equivalent of plugging their ears and going 'lalala I can't hear you', the issue of medical abuse when it comes to older intersex people. I saw someone once agreeing with how horrific and damaging IGM is- but then proceeded to essentially accuse intersex people of lying about our experiences of medical abuse in our teens and later, often when it comes to puberty. And unfortunately, a lot of this that I've seen comes from other queer people.
Which just. Is incomprehensible to me, mostly because I've lived through medical abuse based off of being intersex, but I think it speaks to the way people view victims of oppression and abuse. They want to be seen as allies, because they know that in terms of optics, it's bad to be silent on the oppression of other marginalized people, but they don't want to examine or even consider their own underlying biases and their intersexism.
Saying 'yeah, I'm against the medical abuse of babies', but ignoring what older intersex people face is seen as fine, because babies are almost treated as the perfect victims: victims of this systemic oppression, yet also fundamentally don't understand this oppression yet, because, well, they're infants. Babies are unable to express themselves (at least until said babies grow up), and so while everyone can agree that hurting babies is bad, those babies can't push back against other biases against intersex people that someone might have. You can, and have to, speak for babies, because they can't speak for themselves, but a baby also can't challenge intersexist beliefs the same way an older or adult intersex person can. It's easy to stand up for a group that can't tell you you also have the capacity to harm us.
And so when an older intersex person says, 'hey, this is medical abuse that I went through because I'm intersex', that statement is suddenly treated with doubt, especially when it someone challenges someone's worldview. 'I was forced on HRT as a teen and that was bad' becomes uncomfortable to condemn, because that's seen as something that could challenge, say, their experiences and access to HRT, and they're unwilling to think critically and look at that from a nuanced and deeper perspective: they see our fight against oppression as a challenge to their fight, ignoring that our underlying goals align: bodily autonomy and the right to informed, non-coercive consent. They can only see the issue from the perspective of someone who, say, wants to ban HRT, because they don't want to budge an inch to anything that 'validates' that take; they can only see 'medical abuse that I went through was bad and shouldn't happen' as 'See, this is why HRT is always bad and why this should be banned,' even though the same people who want to ban and restrict HRT also want the freedom to continue to abuse intersex people. It's a fundamentally defensive position that throws intersex people to the curb because people don't want to acknowledge and make space for nuance; it's considered too 'difficult'. 'I went through something bad because it stripped me of my bodily autonomy' is seen as 'I went through something bad and so I want to strip your bodily autonomy', and this fundamental misunderstanding and this caving to internalized bias against intersex people becomes a tool to attempt to try to better a perisex person's own material conditions on the backs of intersex people. It of course doesn't work, we're all crabs in a bucket fighting for air, but people don't seem to understand that, or they just don't care.
No one is immune to intersexism. You don't get to claim to be an ally when you'd try to drown the other crabs in the bucket to try and hope of being able to get more access to the air. But people don't want to confront or examine the fact that they're someone capable of harm, someone capable of expressing hurtful beliefs. And so it devolves into attempts to delegitimize anything anyone who tells you that you are in fact being hurtful.
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I'm tired.
Just sort of in general I am exhausted. I know I put on a brave face a lot, but the hate does get to me. The constant unceasing hatred both offline and online gets to me. I'm human idk what to say. Been thinking a lot about the Bilbo quote, I might be paraphrasing, "I feel like too little butter spread across too much toast."
It's pride month, I should be feeling happy right? I convocated finally after a brutal long degree I should be feeling happy right? I like how my body looks for the first time in my life shouldn't I feel happy?
And I know that's not helpful, that feelings are not a should thing. And yet I feel it anyway :/. Not that I do not feel happy, I would say on average I am better than I have been at any other point in my life. But it does get to me.
I was invited to dinner with a former family member, a blood relative that breached every boundary I placed and even went so far as to accost me in a public space. It's hard watching someone lose all love for you the more you become yourself. Being told I'm an embarrassment to my parents by creeps online stings a lot more now that I had a blood relative say it to my face while aggressively yanking my jacket so I couldn't get away. I know its a lie, I know that this person saying that hurt my parents as much as it did me. Alas, anxiety rarely responds to facts or evidence.
Everytime it feels like I'm fine and over it; this person manages to weasel their way around boundaries to fuck up my mental health for a week. And the thing about chronic illnesses like mine is they flare up quite horrendously when you get stressed and anxious. Anxiety means waking up to acid burnt throat from reflux.
It makes my voice dysphoric all day.
I think deep down one of my greatest fears is that I am unlovable, that everyone around me secretly hates me and is just waiting for the excuse to finally be rid of interacting with me. I am terrified that I am a burden. Mortified by the false belief that I am broken.
Despite how horrific my childhood adolescence and some of my early adulthood were, my family was at least a safe place. I recognize that I was privileged to have that. With that said I think the reason this whole thing has rocked me so much is that it violated that one last place I felt safe. It has made me doubt the love of those I never thought I would.
Sometimes transphobia feels like drowning, and if you try to swim for air everyone decides to shove you further down cause actually it's proof you are faking needing breath.
I text someone anytime I go run errands, just to make sure someone knows. Had too many experiences of hate. I get anxious when I go to get groceries; will this be the time I get hit by a vehicle driven by a far right transphobe, am I going to get called a slur again, will the store staff get suspicious of me and search through all my groceries to make sure I actually paid for it. But please, tell me how I don't know what its like to be oppressed. When men sexually harass, catcall, creepily hit on, follow me around clearly I am not at all experiencing sexism. Obviously the real worst thing in the world is that women "cancel" people on the internet, and trans people exist. Did they think sending me hateful articles would suddenly make me go "oh yes clearly its all in my head, please genocide my community, I stand for nothing and have the moral backbone of a slug."
I don't really know why I'm writing this, I dont usually feel or desire to express something like this publicly. I will probably delete it later. Maybe I disappear into writing cause its easier to deal with the feelings that way. That at least then someone gets something out of my pain. That maybe it helps to condense emotional mountains to the mole hills of short strokes of a pen or presses of a key. To let them explode outward in a flurry of thoughts and words that others look at and say "I too have felt this, you are not alone, you are not wrong for feeling this way."
Anything to take the weight of it all off my chest for a second.
Because I am tired.
I'm exhausted really.
I don't want to be brave or strong or resilient. It's tiring to bear the weight of that and a billion projections. Atlas does not bear the heavens upon his shoulders because he is strong or brave. He bears it because he has no other choice. Because people put it on him.
I just want to exist; that is apparently too much to ask for as a trans woman.
If you are concerned, please don't worry I'll be fine, I was fine every other time after all. This too shall pass. But right now it hurts.
And I have had my fill of hurt for many lifetimes.
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Hii,could you do a part 2 of Aizawa x suicidal child? Please :)
Maybe they did hurted themselves or just confort
Father Aizawa x Suicidal Reader Pt.2
I’ll Never let you go
You and your dad went to the hospital the next day to get your mental health evaluated. Turns out it’s shit. The doctors suggested that you should be on suicide watch and be put in the psychiatric ward for the mean time until they deemed you safe for the partial hospitalization program. While you were in the psychiatric ward the doctors suggested that you see a therapist and create a safety plan. So you asked if you could bring an instrument or at least a pen and paper to write with so you could write songs and journal.
It took some time but you got settled and your dad visited you every day. As the days went by you were writing and journaling. Things didn’t seem that bright right away but that was fine.
(Play the song)
You light a candle just to see in the dark
You're only running on a fuse, and it's been falling apart again
I'm by your side, I hope at least that helps
And life sucks sometimes, it's feeling more like hell
When your dad would visit he would tell you about your cats at home, the mischief his students got into, etc. sometimes Uncle Hizashi would come with him and you two would pretend to jam out to music he’d play. But even though you smiled and laughed there was still a darkness lurking beneath the surface of your mind.
And all the walls around you are turning to ashes
And the flames surround you when everything crashes
Don't hold your head, 'cause it'll all work out
And don't let go of my hand, I won't let you down
The silence is deafening
Keep fighting, you're trembling
But it's fine, it'll be alright
See the pain in your eyes, but we still survive
As you talked to your therapist about the reasons why you feel like dying the relief of getting it out in the open was momentary before the weight of your feelings would come crashing down. You and your therapist would talk about how your dad found you as you were planning to end it all. You talked about how your dad would feel if you went ahead with it and he was too late. How it would affect him and others and how they would feel if you died.
Just don't forget about me
When you feel like you're drowning
I know it's hard to try
If it gets rough, I'm by your side
As the days passed and you talked to the doctors they eventually saw that you were ready for a partial hospitalization program. This program would have you visit the hospital and have a certain amount of hours you would need to spend in the classes at the hospital. These classes had other people in them and was a sort of rehab program for many different people. The classes were about a bunch of different topics that focused on mental health.
When everything
Is falling apart, put your head on my shoulder
Don't cry, just another bad night
You'll make it out alive
When everything is taking its toll, I'll pull you a little closer
If you slip, I'm falling too
And I'll never let you go (never let you go)
You learned a lot of different things like how different mental disorders affected the brain and its functions. You took art therapy and music therapy classes where you would draw something based on the prompt or you’d share a song and explain how it made you feel. All in all, it was very enlightening and helpful.
If your clouds are grey then so are mine
Your smile faded but still you shine
Got my path again into your soul
It's a place that I call home
I can feel your fingertips, they're burnin' my skin again
But I still take your hand
And we'll run away from this mess
I'll bury my heart in the hole in your chest
Your dad would talk with you about your classes and what you learned. You’d show him your notes and he loved seeing the art you made even if it sucked. He found the techniques for panic attacks very useful and decided to have you teach them to him so he could teach his class.
Just don't forget about me
When you feel like you're drowning
I know it's hard to try
If it gets rough, I'm by your side
You spent more time with your dad and he took more time to focus on you and your mental health. He put time aside to make sure to spend with you. You guys would cuddle on the couch and you’d help him grade papers. Sometimes you’d need his help to understand what someone wrote. Apparently you read the students bad handwriting better than your dad. You decided to write feedback on some of the papers like ‘practice your handwriting on separate paper. Heroes need legible handwriting’ or you’d make small corrections and show them how to fix it for next time. Overall, grading papers with your dad was fun.
When everything
Is falling apart,
put your head on my shoulder
Don't cry, just another bad night
You'll make it out alive
When everything
is taking its toll, I'll pull you a little closer
If you slip, I'm falling too
And I'll never let you go again
You told your dad that you still have bad thoughts but now, every time you did, you’d follow your safety plan and talk to him or Hizashi. You’d find someone who you trust and talk to them. Your dad would let you snuggle up to him with your head on his shoulder as you told him everything you needed to.
You don't have to cry alone
And I'll hold this weight above you
If you slip, I'm falling too
And I'll never let you go
Some of the best things you learned were to just live day by day. You don’t have to worry about tomorrow and you don’t have to be hopeful about tomorrow either, it’s enough to just be curious about what’s next. You decided that you wanted to see your friends become heroes and that you had to see if Bakugou became the next number 1. That was enough for both you and your dad. And he promised that he would always be here for you and he’d never let you go.
#mha x reader#bnha x reader#aizawa x reader#aizawa shouta#shouta aizawa x reader#aizawa shouta x reader#aizawa x reader platonic#aizawa x reader comfort#aizawa x child reader#x reader
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Bunnies, please spend a little time with this message, because there are things I want to talk to you about.
First of all, I'm fine. I'm so sorry for worrying so many people yesterday. Sorry if I haven't replied to your DMs yet, there are a lot of them and I need time to reply to all the bunnies.
Please do not worry. Your experiences are not worth me (don't even think about arguing about it), nothing in your life can be more important than you and your family.
Now let's talk about serious matters. I did a lot of thinking last night and it was a hard night, I won't lie. I am a very sensitive person and most of the time I accumulate emotions until they just drown me. The last few weeks have been stressful for me with work and I haven't had much time to relax or get inspired, but when things finally started to pick up, this message was the last straw. It really hurt me.
I hope situations like this don't happen again
Now, I want to talk about comfort and other things on the blog.
1. Nicknames. For all the followers of my blog there is a special nickname "bunny". This is a special nickname associated with one of my works - Pretty Flushed. This is my first popular piece, it is a unique idea and this is what makes my blog my own. From the moment I posted this, it became natural to call my followers 'bunny', as everyone who asked me questions or wrote to me personally signed themselves as 'bunny'.
Now I want to ask you - are you comfortable with this nickname? Did you feel anxious or uncomfortable when I called you that? I don't want you to feel that way, so if it bothers you, let me know and I'll stop.
2. The question of trust. As I wrote earlier, unfortunately I cannot be sure whether I am communicating with minors or not.Because the issue of age deception is very acute.
Neither Tumblr, nor Wattpad, nor YouTube, nor even Gmail can verify your age on a reliable, documented basis when you create a personal account. The only way we can find out is if the user reports it to us. And this is where the question of trust comes in. Can I trust you? Should I keep doing this? These questions are constantly on my mind. It makes me anxious and panicky. But also, how can we live in a society where you are afraid every day? My blog is a safe place for adults and conscious people, but I can't guarantee that somewhere among my 2.8k followers there aren't underage teenagers. Because I just don't know who's telling me the truth and who's not.
If any of my bunnies find out about underage accounts, please let me know so that we can make the issue public.
There is also the issue of anonymity. You can call me shameless, but I am not ashamed of my desires or thoughts, you all literally live in my head, but I know that there are people who are not ready to talk publicly about their desires and dreams, here are also people who are simply afraid to do so because someone might find out and use it against them. We all have different lives and we all have different life and social circumstances, so I understand all the people who are not ready, who are afraid or who are ashamed of their thoughts and dreams.
I will not block the possibility to talk to me anonymously and I leave it up to you. You can also DM me with your request if you don't feel comfortable with me posting the answer for everyone to see.
3. Communication. Bunnies, communication is important to me; it's true. I always want to know how you feel, if you are comfortable, and what you think of my work and of me. But unfortunately, sometimes my questions remain unanswered, and I begin to doubt if everything is going well. There is no greater fear for me than that you do not feel comfortable with me.
I don't know why, but it seems to me that many people avoid communicating with me. Some people think I'm rude or abrupt, and I don't seem to fit in with the general happy atmosphere. I am most comfortable with my bunnies. I enjoy playing with them, flirting with them, or just talking to them, and I'm very lucky to have made great friends, but I still feel isolated in a way.
It's weird; people always tell me that they've heard of me or that I have some kind of bunny fandom of my own, but I'm nothing more than a normal person. I will never lie to you and try to be better than I am. I am who I am, and I have no intention of creating a false persona in order to be loved. If I'm not right for you, don't waste your time.
I always tell you that you can come to me with all the questions in the world. I will never refuse to help you. Communication is the key to success, don't you think? I know I can be intense, and the way I communicate on the blog is unique, but that is how I see this space—without templates, labels, bias, shaming, judgement, and other things. This is a place where you can be yourself.
So let's communicate more and get to know each other better to make our lives a little easier.
I may decide to add a few more things here later, but these are the issues that concern me most at the moment.
Also, in terms of updates, the planned update for this weekend for full-length work will be postponed until next week.
Unholy hours have been on the air since the weekend.
I love and appreciate you very much, my bunnies, and I hope I have been able to share some of my thoughts with you. We will work on improving the atmosphere in our little naughty house.
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