#and then she was like WATER NOW WATER NOW WATER NOW | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aliyahwritings · 3 days ago

Text

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (07)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 8.1k

Aliyah's Notes: the way i wanted this chapter to be around 5k... but anyw, the ending to that chapter is pretty good so y'all can rest in peace lmaoo but problems are coming hehehehehe

The sound of her heels clicking on the pavement cut through the evening air, each step echoing louder than the last. You barely registered the chill of the evening as her figure came into view—Chiara Romano, arms folded over her chest, her expression a delicate balance of innocence and something unmistakably venomous. A small, mocking smile played at the corners of her lips, her gaze roaming over you with the kind of appraisal that felt like a slap.

Beside you, Rafe tensed, his gaze hardening as he straightened, clearly prepared for whatever barbs she had in store. You forced yourself to stand taller, meeting her gaze with a coolness you could barely muster.

“Chiara,” you said, injecting a polite edge into your voice that you knew was as fake as her smile. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

She tilted her head, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, I just felt like things ended a bit... strange at the party,” she replied, her tone sugary sweet yet laced with something bitter. “Especially after seeing the headlines about you.” She let out a small sigh, as though feigning concern. “I couldn’t help but worry.”

A sharp laugh almost slipped from your lips. The headlines. She was talking about the recent media talking about your “potential” relapse… which were true. News of your recent struggles had been going viral, and she was here to dangle them in front of you. The reality of your relapse was raw, but admitting it—especially to Chiara—was out of the question.

“Did you, now?” You kept your voice light, your smile tight as you watched her closely.

“Of course,” she nodded, her eyes darting pointedly between you and Rafe, her expression softening with feigned empathy. “Us girls have to look out for each other,” she added, a hint of mock sincerity weaving through her words. “I just hope Rafe’s taking excellent care of you. I mean, if he’s able to.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes or worse—to let your anger slip through. Instead, you returned her smile with a casual shrug. “He is, thank you,” you replied, forcing your tone to stay neutral. “And I’m doing just fine. I haven’t relapsed—.”

“You sure?” she pressed, her voice a touch too innocent. “You look... thinner than I remember.”

You felt a twisted sort of satisfaction creeping in, an internal smile that you kept hidden. It was strange—almost absurd—but her attempt to make you feel small, to jab at your insecurities, did the opposite. She said it to be cruel; she thought her words would cut you deeply. But instead, they landed somewhere softer, failing to sting the way she intended.

Rafe’s voice cut through the tension, his tone sharp and commanding, filled with an authority that even you hadn’t heard from him before. “Alright, that’s enough,” he warned, his words laced with a chill that could silence a room. “Keep talking like that, and you’ll be the one making headlines.”

Chiara’s gaze flicked to Rafe, her lips curling into a sly smile, undeterred by his warning. “Oh, Rafe, always so protective,” she cooed, her tone dripping with mock innocence. “I thought we were past all that. After all, we did come here together.”

You blinked, the words sinking in like a stone dropping into still water, each ripple spreading through you. “You… came here with him?” you asked, keeping your voice steady, though your heart was pounding.

Chiara’s smile widened, a hint of triumph in her expression. “Of course. We just thought it’d be convenient, didn’t we, Rafe?”

Your eyes shifted to him, searching his face for any denial, some sign that this was just another one of her games. But Rafe stayed silent, his expression tinged with guilt, lips pressed together as if he didn’t trust himself to speak.

He had, in fact, come with her.

The air thick, with Chiara’s truth and Rafe’s guilty silence. Every moment he said nothing, the disappointment pooled deeper in your chest, twisting painfully.

You crossed your arms, your gaze hardening as you looked at him. “Convenient?” The word slipped from your mouth, laced with bitter disbelief. “Convenient for who, exactly?”

Rafe opened his mouth, struggling to find the right words, but nothing came out. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked like he might deny it, try to explain. But his shoulders sagged slightly, defeated, as he glanced away.

Chiara’s voice broke the silence, her tone feigning sympathy. “Oh, don’t be upset. It’s not like you’re the only woman in his life, right?” She leaned back with a satisfied smile, clearly relishing the wedge she’d managed to drive between you.

“Alright, you know what?” you said, forcing a calm into your voice that belied the anger bubbling beneath the surface. “I don’t really care what arrangement you two have. But what I’d like to know, Chiara, is why you’re actually here. What do you want?”

Chiara’s smile faltered, just for a fraction of a second, before she recovered, her expression shifting to a mischievous glint. “I’m here to support my father’s event, naturally,” she replied smoothly. “But I couldn’t resist the chance to catch up with Rafe and see how… everything’s going with you two.”

You felt the anger begin to surge again, but you reined it in, straightening and lifting your chin. “Then let’s hope tonight’s as memorable as you’re expecting.” You threw a final look at Rafe, disappointment flickering in your gaze.

With that, you walked toward the car and sat in the passenger seat, forcing yourself to ignore the ache in your chest as you disappeared into the throng of people.

From the corner of your eye, you watched Rafe and Chiara exchange a few heated words. His jaw clenched as he spoke, his eyes narrowed in a way that told you he was holding back the anger simmering just beneath the surface. Chiara, on the other hand, looked anything but apologetic, her expression smug as she responded with an air of indifference. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but every movement, every flash of irritation in Rafe’s eyes only deepened the tight knot of frustration in your chest.

Before long, they finally turned, heading toward the car, and you forced yourself to look away and just focus on the city lights ahead of you. The silence that filled the car was thick, unbearably tense. The engine hummed beneath you, but the weight of everything unsaid made each passing second feel longer. You kept your eyes on the window, refusing to break the silence, even as your exhaustion began to creep in, your eyelids growing heavy.

Just as you started to drift, you felt him lean forward, his breath warm against your ear as he broke the silence, his voice low and soft. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, the apology laced with a vulnerability that caught you off guard.

You exhaled sharply, holding back the initial pang of anger. “You’re sorry?” you replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you finally turned to face him, one eyebrow raised. “For what, exactly? For keeping me in the dark? For thinking I wouldn’t notice you driving here with her?”

Rafe’s expression softened, his guilt evident as he held your gaze, searching for the right words. “It wasn’t like that. She… she just showed up. I didn’t think—”

You scoffed, cutting him off. “That’s the problem. You didn’t think. Or maybe you did, and just didn’t care to clue me in.” As his apology hung in the air, you couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Unbelievable,” you muttered, refusing to look at him. “So what, Cameron? You thought I’d just sit there and take it?”

He shifted closer, his voice strained. “I told you, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t invite her. She just… she knew I was coming here, and it felt easier to—”

“Easier?” You turned in your seat to face him, disbelief and frustration clear in your eyes. “Easier for who, exactly? Because it sure as hell wasn’t easier for me.”

Rafe’s gaze dropped, his fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel. “Look, I know how it looks, but… she was already in the car before I could even think about it. I didn’t want to make a scene.”

You narrowed your eyes, unimpressed. “So, you thought the best plan was to just go along with her? To let her be seen with you, knowing exactly how that would make me look?”

“Y/N, I know I messed up, okay?” He leaned closer, the regret in his eyes almost palpable. “I was just trying to keep things calm. I didn’t want it to turn into something it didn’t have to be.”

“Oh, so you didn’t want to ‘make a scene’ with her, but now you’re perfectly fine with making me feel like an idiot?” you shot back, folding your arms. “How considerate of you.”

Rafe let out a sigh, rubbing his temples. “Can’t you just trust that I was doing what I thought was right?”

You rolled your eyes, the bitterness evident in your tone. “I don’t trust you.” You turned away, staring at the passing lights outside. "And you’re only apologizing now because you got caught."

He was silent for a moment, the weight of your words settling in. “I don’t want to keep doing this, Y/N,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to feel like this… like I don’t care.”

You laughed, but it was a hollow sound. “Then stop giving me reasons to feel this way.”

You leaned against the window, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the passing city lights. During the car ride, Chiara, for once, seemed to get the hint and kept her mouth shut, though every so often you caught her glancing at Rafe through the rearview mirror. Rafe, on the other hand, drove with a steady determination, occasionally glancing at you as though he was waiting for you to say something—anything—that might break the unbearable quiet. But you refused to give him that satisfaction, and instead, kept your focus outward, on anything but the two people in the car with you.

As the car rolled to a stop in front of the charity venue, Chiara was quick to jump out, immediately making a beeline for her father, who was waiting near the entrance. The flash of photographers’ cameras lit up the scene, and she threw a gleeful smile their way, basking in the attention as she reached her father’s side.

You took a steady breath and turned to Rafe, letting out a sigh that seemed to carry every ounce of frustration you’d been holding onto. He was watching you, his expression caught somewhere between apology and uncertainty.

“Alright, Cameron,” you began, forcing a professional tone. “Let’s get this over with. We need a story to tell about how we met, so listen to me; we met through a mutual friend at some rooftop party in the city. You were immediately smitten.”

“Smitten?” he repeated, arching an eyebrow. His mouth curved into a playful grin. “Strong word there. Don’t know if I’ve ever been ‘smitten.’”

“Well, you have now,” you said without missing a beat. “We sat at the same table, and you told me some fake, but charming story about how you don’t like crowds and would rather be anywhere else.”

“So, I’m just a liar?” he said with a grin.

“Yes, apparently,” you said, your voice flat as you rolled your eyes.

“That’s deserved, alright,” he shrugged, and leaned closer. “But, let’s make this fun. How about we tweak the story a bit? Let’s say you chased me down after that rooftop party, practically begging for my number.”

“You must be high,” you scoffed, looking at him like he’d just suggested the earth was flat. “No one would believe I’d chase after you. Besides, I’d rather walk across hot coals than let people think I was desperate for you.”

Rafe gave a lighthearted shrug, clearly entertained by your reaction. “Alright, but if anyone asks, I’ll just say I was the reluctant charmer who had to be convinced.”

You couldn’t help the sarcastic laugh that slipped out. “Yeah, because nothing says ‘charm’ like ghosting someone for two weeks.”

He winced but quickly recovered, that easy smirk slipping back into place. “Ouch. Alright, I deserved that one too. But admit it, you’d be impressed if I played hard-to-get. It’d add some mystery to our ‘relationship.’”

You deadpanned, “It’d add some credibility if you remembered the actual story. Try to keep up with the backstory, Cameron. We’re supposed to be in love, remember?”

Rafe placed a hand on his heart, feigning a wounded expression. “So cruel. Here I am, pouring my heart out, and you’re just brushing me off like I’m nothing.”

You stared at him, unimpressed. “How does that feel, huh? To be brushed off?”

His smile dropped immediately. “I’ll stick to the script. Mutual friends, a little bit of rooftop magic, and me falling head over heels. Got it.”

“Good. And try to remember: we’ve been dating long enough that you’d know basic things, like my favorite color and the fact that I don’t like seafood.”

“Got it,” he said with a nod, giving you a mock salute. Then, with a sly grin, he added, “Anything else I should know? Like, if you’ve got a celebrity crush, maybe?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the urge to smile despite yourself. “This is a charity event, Cameron, not a middle school dance. Stick to the basics, and we’ll be fine.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, boss. Just wanted to know if I’ve got any competition out there.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Trust me, you’d know if there was competition.”

The banter fell into a comfortable silence, the tension lifting slightly as you both prepared for the performance ahead. But as you glanced out the window, watching Chiara drape herself over her father’s arm like she owned the place, the humor faded, and a steely resolve settled over you.

Rafe must have noticed, because he leaned forward, his expression growing more serious. “Hey, I know tonight’s going to be… less than ideal,” he said, his tone softening. “But we’ve got this. Just follow my lead if things get tricky, alright?”

You looked at him, skepticism still lingering, but his sincerity caught you off guard. “Let’s just keep this professional,” you replied, but your tone was gentler, almost reluctant.

“Deal,” he said, giving you a small, genuine smile. “Let’s make ‘em believe it.”

With that, he opened his door and walked around to your side, offering you his hand as you stepped out. You hesitated, then took it, maintaining a cool composure as camera flashes went off around you. The crowd erupted in a flurry of clicks and flashes, and you could already hear the low hum of voices speculating about the two of you.

Rafe leaned down slightly, his hand resting lightly on your back as he guided you forward. “Smile like you’re the happiest you’ve ever been,” he whispered, his tone playful but warm. “And maybe… just pretend you don’t want to strangle me for a few minutes.”

You tilted your head, flashing him a fake, overly-sweet smile. “Oh, trust me, that’ll be the hardest part.”

He chuckled, giving the reporters a charming wave as he leaned in, whispering back, “Keep smiling like that, and people might actually believe you like me.”

You leaned in closer, maintaining the smile for the cameras. “Don’t get too comfortable. This is just for show.”

“Right,” he whispered, a teasing glint in his eye. “But if we happen to have a little fun, is that so bad?”

Before you could answer, Chiara’s voice rang out over the crowd, all fake sweetness as she greeted her father, loudly proclaiming her excitement for the event. You caught Rafe’s eye, sharing a look of silent exasperation.

“Stick to the story. Don’t slip up.”

“Got it, boss,” he whispered back, his tone lighthearted as he gave you a quick wink. “Let’s go give them a show.”

You sipped your champagne, feigning interest in the event as your gaze flickered over the crowd, hoping to find something—anything—to break up the monotony. Conversations about Rafe’s latest matches, your recent shoot for Vogue, and even the upcoming Chanel campaign rolled through the evening like clockwork, the same pleasantries exchanged over and over. Rafe played his part perfectly, always flashing that magnetic smile, leaning in as if every word you said was his world. You kept a poised expression, smiling when necessary, but each compliment and question blended into the next, leaving you restless.

Just as you managed to suppress a yawn, a commanding voice sounded from behind. “Y/N Y/L/N, the woman of the hour.” You turned, and there stood Charles Kensington, a CEO of one of the event’s largest sponsors, known as much for his relentless pursuit of younger models as for his cutthroat business strategies. He extended a hand with a smirk that was more predatory than friendly, his gaze sweeping over you with an appreciation that lingered far too long. “I’m Charles Kesington. It’s a pleasure.”

“Likewise,” you replied politely, giving him a polite smile as you shook his hand. “And congratulations on your company’s recent acquisition. Impressive move.”

Charles smiled, clearly pleased. “Ah, you’ve been keeping up, I see. You’re as sharp as they say.” His gaze lingered, a touch too intense, and his hand remained over yours a second longer than necessary. “And I must say, even more beautiful in person. Your upcoming campaign with Chanel is already causing quite a buzz.”

Rafe’s arm tightened around your waist as he turned to face Charles, his smile polite but lacking warmth. “Nice to see you, Charles.”

Charles nodded at Rafe, though his attention stayed firmly on you. “I’ve seen your work everywhere recently,” he said, his voice dropping into an intimate tone. “Chanel made a wise choice—although I’d argue that any brand would be lucky to have you representing them.”

“Thank you,” you replied coolly, catching the faint annoyance in Rafe’s jaw as it clenched. But Charles either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“You’re too kind, Mr. Kensington,” you replied, ignoring the way his eyes drifted over you. “And thank you. I’m honored to be working with such a renowned brand.”

“Oh, please,” he said, dismissing the formality with a wave of his hand. “Call me Charles. You know, I’d love to see you star in one of our campaigns someday. I’d love to discuss a potential collaboration over dinner,” he added, his voice lowering just enough to feel like a private invitation, despite Rafe’s presence.

You forced a polite laugh, though you felt Rafe’s grip tighten again. “Thank you, Charles. That’s very generous but—”

Rafe cleared his throat, the sound deliberate. “Actually, Y/N’s schedule is pretty packed for the next few months,” he said, his tone friendly but laced with an unmistakable edge. “With the Chanel campaign, her other upcoming works, and our time together, I’m not sure there’s room for much else.”

Charles raised an eyebrow, glancing at Rafe with an amused smile, as if he’d only just noticed him standing there. “Ah, Mr. Cameron. Quite a lucky man, aren’t you?”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, but he managed a tight smile. “I’d say so.”

Charles leaned a bit closer, his attention fixed back on you. “Well, if you ever find a free moment, I’d be more than happy to take you on a tour of our headquarters. You know, just to chat about future opportunities.”

The thinly veiled invitation hung in the air, and you felt a slight discomfort, but you kept your smile in place. “Thank you for the offer, Charles. But as my boyfriend mentioned, I’m quite busy these days.”

Charles’ gaze flicked between the two of you, his smile widening slightly, clearly enjoying the tension he’d stirred up. “Of course. I understand entirely,” he replied smoothly, offering you a final lingering look before excusing himself.

The moment he was out of earshot, Rafe turned to you, his expression thunderous. “What the hell was that?”

You blinked, feigning innocence. “What was what?”

“That guy was practically undressing you with his eyes,” he muttered, his tone low and irritated. “And you didn’t seem too bothered by it.”

You raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Maybe because I don’t see the point in making a scene over a harmless conversation.”

Rafe scoffed, his hand still firmly around your waist. “Harmless? That guy was two seconds away from asking for your number.”

You rolled your eyes, barely managing to hide your smirk. “Jealous, Cameron?”

Rafe’s gaze hardened, and he leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “If you think I’m just going to stand there while some old fucker tries to flirt with you, you’re wrong.”

The intensity in his voice sent a flicker of satisfaction through you, though you kept your expression neutral. “Relax, Mike Tyson. It was just a conversation. It’s not like he’s the first man to ever show interest in me.”

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing, “he should know you’re off-limits.”

You shot him a sidelong glance, amused by his possessiveness. “Is that right? I don’t recall signing any contract that says I’m ‘off-limits.’”

His grip tightened, his face a mixture of frustration and something else—something deeper, something he was clearly trying to suppress. “You’re my girlfriend and about to become my wife, consider it an unspoken rule, then.”

You felt a thrill at his words, but you kept your tone casual. “If that’s the case, maybe you should make it more convincing.”

He leaned closer, his hand brushed against your cheek, fingers lingering just enough to send a spark through you. “Convincing?”

His eyes never left yours, flickering briefly to your lips, and you could feel the heat building between you, a tension that seemed to stretch out endlessly. The hum of the event around you began to fade, and suddenly, it was as if there was no one else in the room—just the two of you, drawn together by something that felt far more complicated than a simple arrangement.

His breath, warm and steady against your skin, made your pulse quicken. You found yourself instinctively closing your eyes as his face came even closer, the space between you narrowing with every passing second. The moment was electric, charged with an undeniable pull that you could no longer ignore.

For the briefest moment, you forgot all the reasons you’d been upset with him in the first place. His proximity, the way he looked at you, the way his lips seemed so close—it was almost impossible to think about anything else. You ached to feel him again, to taste his lips, to feel the weight of his body against yours. All that mattered was the way your skin burned for him, how every nerve in you seemed to come alive at the thought of him touching you again. You wanted him.

Desperately.

But just before his lips touched yours, a familiar voice cut through the quiet intensity.

"Y/N! There you are!” Aisha’s voice was bright and unapologetic, carrying her trademark liveliness that filled any room. Startled, you and Rafe pulled apart just in time to see her approach, her arms outstretched and a radiant smile on her face.

You could only laugh as she practically tackled you with a hug, pulling you in tightly. Standing just a few inches taller than you, her warm brown skin glowed against the dark emerald of her satin dress, a color that complemented her deeply curly hair that cascaded freely around her shoulders. Her high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes sparkled with joy, her makeup accentuating her features with a natural, dewy look and a bold cat-eye makeup.

"Oh my God!" you managed through your laughter. "I had no idea you’d arrived already."

She finally released you from the hug but kept her hands on your shoulders, looking you over with a proud, glowing smile. “As if I’d miss this! You look absolutely breathtaking, girl—that dress was made for you. No one else could do it justice.”

You spun around, letting the fabric fan out as you struck a playful pose. “You really like it?”

“Like it? I am in-freaking-love, are you serious?” she squealed, and the two of you burst into laughter, clapping your hands together with giddy excitement. “I’ve missed you so much.”

You pressed a hand to your forehead, sighing dramatically. “I’ve missed you way more—can you believe it’s only been a year and I’m already involved with a white man? Truly, how crazy is that?”

Aisha’s gaze snapped to Rafe, who stood a little behind you, clearly surprised to be noticed so suddenly. You stifled a laugh as he shifted, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Aisha's eyes narrowed slightly as she took him in, her gaze appraising and unblinking, as if she was assessing him for every possible flaw.

“Rafe Cameron, meet Aisha Patel—my best friend,” you said, tugging Aisha closer. “Aisha, this is Rafe, my... boyfriend.”

She didn’t say a word, just let her eyes scan him from head to toe with a critical intensity. You recognized this familiar expression—it was her way of warning anyone interested in you that hurting you would come with consequences. She always put your partners through this silent scrutiny, hoping to rattle them and make it clear they had to earn her approval.

Rafe, though clearly aware of her intent, extended his hand, maintaining an uneasy but polite smile. “Nice to meet you, Aisha.”

For a split second, she didn’t budge, letting the moment stretch just long enough to make him shift uncomfortably. You quickly grabbed her hand, easing it into his before she could escalate the standoff. “She’s usually much friendlier, I swe—”

“My dad has a gun,” she said quietly, her tone so flat it made the tension in the air sharpen. “And he taught me how to use it.”

You laughed a little, trying to ease the weight of her words. “She’s just kidding… right?”

But she didn’t break. Her gaze stayed fixed on Rafe, unwavering. “Only one way to find out, Rafe Cameron,” she replied coldly.

Rafe’s eyes flickered, and after a long moment, he dropped his gaze with a tight nod. “Guess I know where Y/N got her threatening techniques from,” he said with a small grin, the usual smugness back in his voice.

His expression, so casual and light, cut deeper than you expected. It felt like he knew exactly what he was doing, toying with a conversation he’d read from a distance and kept deliberately unanswered. He’d seen your texts, read every one of them, and left them cold and untouched. You felt the hurt creeping up in a way that left you exposed, vulnerable in a way you swore you wouldn’t be around him.

You pulled in a slow breath, forcing your face back to neutral, hoping Aisha wouldn’t notice the flicker of pain in your eyes. She turned to say something to Rafe, and you straightened, pulling your walls up as fast as you could, sealing the hurt beneath a calm you’d mastered. Just one more second, and no one would ever know.

Aisha leaned forward, curious but amused. “So… how’d you two meet?”

You shot Rafe a quick look, and he gave a subtle nod, leaving you to tell the story. “We met a few months back at this party,” you started.

“Rooftop party,” Rafe corrected, unable to resist chiming in.

“Right, a rooftop party,” you agreed, giving him a playful look. “And the second he laid eyes on me, he was enchanted—absolutely down bad,” you teased, letting a smirk cross your face.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, giving a mock-serious nod. “Completely leveled me. Could barely walk straight after that.”

“Completely down bad,” you agreed, tilting your head with a smile. “Apparently, my beauty was just too blinding. He had no choice but to come talk to me, and once he did? Well, he realized I was so much more than a pretty face. He was hooked on how charming, funny, and—”

“And how sassy she was,” Rafe finished, his gaze lingering on you for a beat longer than necessary.

Aisha looked between the two of you, raising an eyebrow. “Sassy with you? Really?”

Rafe laughed, running a hand through his hair. “That mouth of hers—I swear, there’s not a single day where she’s not giving me that attitude,” he added with a soft smile in your direction.

“Interesting… Very interesting.” Aisha looked between you two with a grin, shaking her head. “And, what happened after that?”

Rafe leaned back, crossing his arms as he tried to act casual. "Well, after that, I pretty much chased her down just to get a date," he said with a smirk. "The rest is history."

You rolled your eyes, waving a dismissive hand. "Oh, he’s underselling it. He spent weeks trying to get my number, asking me out every day on Instagram, but I wasn’t having it. I kept hearing all these things about him…"

"Like what?" Aisha leaned in, eyes widening in anticipation.

"That he was a total player," you said, pausing for effect, earning a gasp from Aisha that you matched with a knowing nod. Meanwhile, Rafe just chuckled, shaking his head at your theatrics. "I know, girl!" you went on, shooting Rafe a playful look. "But he finally convinced me to go on a date… and he actually wasn’t so bad. So I gave him another shot, and, well…" You shrugged, glancing over at him with a smile. "Here we are."

Aisha took it all in, folding her arms and tapping her fingers thoughtfully.

“Wow,” she said, eyeing him with newfound curiosity. “I didn’t peg you for the persistent type, Rafe. Especially not with someone like my girl.”

Rafe shot her a confident smile, though there was a quiet warmth in his expression that didn’t quite match the usual cocky bravado. “Yeah, she’s special. Knew it from the moment I saw her.”

You couldn’t help the warmth that rushed through you at his words, a sudden rush of affection you hadn’t expected, especially not in front of Aisha. There was something in the way he looked at you that made the air feel thicker, charged with something unspoken. It sent an unexpected flutter through your chest, a reminder that underneath all the tension, the public facade, and the expectations, there was still something raw between you—something that felt real in a way you hadn’t quite anticipated.

“Smooth talker, huh?” you teased, nudging Rafe lightly with your elbow. “You’re really laying it on thick tonight, aren’t you?”

Aisha’s sharp eyes flicked between you both, her protective instincts clearly on high alert. “Yeah, I’m picking up on that. But just so you know, Rafe, I’ve got my eye on you. You hurt her, and you won’t just be dealing with me, you’ll be dealing with my dad, too.”

Rafe’s lips curved into a smile, but there was something more guarded behind his eyes now, as though he recognized the weight of her words. “I get it,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Aisha seemed to size him up for a moment longer, letting the silence stretch just enough to make the air thick with tension. Then, after what felt like an eternity, she gave a slow nod, her stance softening just a little. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it,” she said, her tone easing. “But I’m still watching.”

You felt a strange sense of pride at that. Aisha had always been fiercely protective of you, and while it sometimes grated on your nerves, you knew deep down it was just because she cared. No one had ever had your back the way she did. You weren’t sure if Rafe fully understood that yet, but from the way he glanced at her—slightly uncertain, but respectful—you could tell he was beginning to get the message.

“Enough of the heavy shit,” Aisha said, breaking the tension with a clap of her hands and a sudden bright smile. “This is supposed to be fun, right? I’m here to celebrate, and I’m done with the interrogation. So, let’s have some fucking fun!”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine as you clinked your glass with hers. The champagne sparkled in your hand, and for the first time that evening, you felt a sense of relief. The weight of the conversation had shifted from uncomfortable to just... amusing. Aisha was nothing if not relentless in her approach, but you appreciated the way she could lighten any situation, especially when it felt like the pressure of your fake engagement was hanging over your head like a storm cloud.

“To my best friend and her very determined boyfriend,” Aisha toasted, her grin widening. “May you both drive each other crazy for a long, long time!”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Thanks, Aish’. Really. A long, long time,” you echoed, sipping from your glass as she gave you a knowing look.

As the evening wore on, the atmosphere began to shift. The crowd mingled, voices rose and fell in an endless tide of conversation, and the hum of background music seemed to fade into the distance. It felt like the world was in motion, but you and Rafe were standing still, caught in some kind of unspoken orbit that neither of you could quite navigate.

People came and went, exchanging pleasantries, business deals, and compliments, but you and Rafe couldn’t seem to look away from each other. Even when he was speaking with someone else or laughing at a joke Aisha made, you felt his presence, heavy and undeniable.

You’d told yourself that tonight was about putting on a show for the cameras, about playing the part of the perfect couple, and you had every intention of sticking to the script. But as the night wore on, you realized how hard it was to keep pretending when Rafe’s touch lingered just a little longer than necessary, when his eyes followed you across the room with that possessive intensity you couldn’t quite ignore. There were moments when you caught him looking at you like no one else mattered, and for a brief second, the walls you’d so carefully constructed between the two of you threatened to crumble.

It wasn’t just the way he touched you when no one was looking, or the way he’d half-smiled at you in the middle of a crowd, as if sharing some private joke. It was the small things—the subtle ways he’d let you know he cared, even when he was keeping his distance. How his arm would brush against yours when you stood next to each other, how he’d glance at you in the middle of a conversation, as if checking to make sure you were still there, still paying attention. How he’d subtly reposition his hand on your waist, or how his thumb would brush against your back when you’d lean in close to hear something better.

And then, there were the moments when it seemed like neither of you knew how to deal with the chemistry that crackled between you. You’d both been avoiding it for so long, keeping your emotions buried under layers of professionalism and convenience, but tonight, it was becoming harder to ignore. The closer you got, the more the lines between what was real and what was fabricated began to blur.

A sudden vibration in your pocket startled you, pulling you out of your reverie. You slid your phone out, heart still racing from the interaction with Rafe, and your eyes immediately landed on the name that made your stomach drop: Mom.

Your heart skipped a beat as you unlocked the screen, only to see a simple message that made your blood run cold:

“Y/N, we’ve heard the news. This is a disgrace. This is not how we raised you. You’re nothing but a joke.”

You blinked at the message, trying to process it. News? What news? You hadn’t even talked to them in years.

Before you could think further, the sickening feeling in your stomach intensified. Without even realizing it, you clicked over to the news app, and the headline that greeted you nearly stopped your heart:

“Rafe Cameron Engaged to Model Y/N Y/L/N: A Surprise Announcement”

Your pulse spiked, your fingers trembling as you scrolled down. The article was filled with blurry images from earlier in the evening, showing you and Rafe sharing moments too intimate for the cameras, your faces filled with a mix of affection and tension. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. It wasn’t supposed to be this fast.

How could this have leaked?

Your chest tightened as a suffocating wave of panic hit you. You could feel your breath quicken, the world around you suddenly feeling too small, too fast, and you couldn’t catch your breath. You looked around the room, your vision blurring as the walls seemed to close in. The voices around you grew muffled, the lights too bright, too harsh.

“Y/N?”

Rafe’s voice pulled you back to reality, but it was distant, like it came from a far-off place. You tried to focus on him, on his familiar blue eyes, but everything felt off, like you couldn’t quite make sense of what was happening.

The phone dropped from your hand, and before you knew it, your vision went dark. Your breath hitched in your chest as your body trembled with the onset of a panic attack. It felt like everything was spiraling out of control, and you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

And then, in the midst of it all, you felt it—something slipping from your bag pocket, a small metallic sound against the floor. But you couldn’t focus on it. Not now. Not with everything else overwhelming you. Your heart pounded in your ears, drowning out the noise around you as you tried to steady yourself, hands trembling at your sides.

You heard the faint clink again, but you were too far gone, too panicked, to care.

Rafe’s arms were around you before you even realized he was there, his voice low and urgent. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” His hand was on your back, guiding you gently but firmly as he led you outside, away from the noise and chaos of the event.

“I—I—” Your words faltered, and you gasped for air, trying to calm your breathing, but it was like your lungs had stopped working.

“Shh, just breathe, baby, okay?” Rafe’s voice was steady, guiding you through it like he’d done this before. His hand was pressing into your back in rhythmic motions, trying to ground you. “You’re okay, I promise.”

You leaned against him, trying to steady your frantic breathing, but it was hard. Everything felt so chaotic, too fast. The news. The message from your parents. Rafe. Your relapse. The engagement. The shame. The eyes on you.

“I… I got a message from my parents,” you managed to gasp between breaths. “They already know... the news... I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready for any of this, Rafe.”

His face softened, but there was confusion in his eyes. He looked like he didn’t fully understand, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he just nodded and gave you a reassuring squeeze, his arms enveloping you in warmth. “Hey, it’s alright. We’ll figure this out. I’ve got you, okay?”

You buried your face in his chest, as if you’ve been doing forever, the tears finally coming, and you didn’t even try to hold them back. Your body shook as the sobs wracked through you. Everything felt like it was falling apart, all the control you’d tried so hard to maintain slipping through your fingers. The fake engagement, the pressure to live up to everyone’s expectations, the constant balancing act—it was too much.

“Shhh,” Rafe murmured again, his voice a steady, comforting presence against the storm inside you. “You’re okay, baby. We’re gonna get through this.”

Still shaking, you pulled away slightly, wiping your face with the back of your hand as you tried to steady yourself. Rafe didn’t push you away. He just stayed close, his hands hovering near you, ready to catch you if you needed him.

“I can’t… I can’t do this. Not like this,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you spoke. “Everything’s happening too fast. I didn’t expect it to go like this, Rafe. I didn’t plan for my parents to know about this. It’s not supposed to be like this.”

He seemed to register the panic in your voice, though he still didn’t fully understand why it was affecting you like this. Still, he didn’t question you further. He just nodded again, that protective instinct rising in him. “Alright, we’ll get you home, okay?”

You nodded quietly as he draped his jacket over your shoulders, the fabric warm against your skin. If you weren’t so caught up in your emotions, you might have found the gesture cute. “Yes, please…” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Just relax, okay? I’m right here.”

Before you knew it, he was guiding you toward his car, his hand firmly but gently around your arm as he helped you get inside. The drive home was a blur, your mind a chaotic mess of racing thoughts. You tried to fight the exhaustion pulling at you, but it was useless. As soon as you buckled your seatbelt, your body seemed to give up the fight.

You curled up against the seat, closing your eyes, and within minutes, you were asleep. The quiet hum of the car as Rafe drove was the only thing that kept you tethered to reality.

Rafe glanced over at you every few moments as he drove, the concern never leaving his face. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you tonight, not since the moment the tension between you had grown so palpable. He could feel it in his chest—the fear that something would go wrong, that something would happen to make everything fall apart.

As he looked at you now, sleeping peacefully, he couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at him. He didn’t understand it—didn’t fully understand what was happening between the two of you—but the depth of concern he felt for you surprised him. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d wanted to protect you, how he’d wanted to be there for you when you needed it the most.

But now, as you slept, he realized something he hadn’t allowed himself to admit before: he didn’t want to lose you. The idea of seeing you hurt, seeing you break down, sent a pang of guilt through him. He hadn’t planned on this feeling, hadn’t planned on the way he’d come to care about you, but it was undeniable now.

Being away from you for two weeks made him come to a few undeniable realizations. He missed you—more than he’d like to admit. He missed the way your smile lit up the room whenever you looked at him, the playful roll of your eyes when you thought he was being ridiculous. He missed the banter, the little jabs you’d throw his way, always keeping him on his toes. Most of all, he missed hearing your voice, the way it grounded him in ways he never expected.

He regretted everything—the distance, the silence, the mess he’d made—and he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to make it right.

The car approached your apartment building, Rafe slowed down, glancing over at you one last time. You hadn’t stirred for a while, and he didn’t want to wake you up too abruptly, but he knew you needed to get out. He gently reached over and brushed your shoulder, speaking softly.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice careful as if not wanting to startle you. “We’re here.”

You blinked a few times, slowly coming to, the remnants of sleep fading from your face as you sat up straight. For a moment, you looked around, trying to get your bearings, and then your eyes landed on him. You offered him a small, grateful smile, and his heart skipped a beat.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said softly, your voice still hoarse with exhaustion. “I really appreciate it.”

Rafe nodded, watching you with a mixture of concern and admiration. “No problem. You okay now?” His voice was gentle, but there was an undertone of worry that you couldn’t miss.

You gave a quiet sigh, nodding. “Yeah… I think I just needed some air.”

He stayed still for a second, waiting, as you unbuckled your seatbelt and started to gather your things. The quiet moment lingered before you stepped out of the car and made your way to the front door of your building. Rafe stayed in the car, just watching you, his gaze never leaving you. His chest felt tight again, but this time, it was different. It wasn’t fear of something going wrong—it was the simple concern of wanting you to be safe, wanting you to be okay.

As you reached the door, you fumbled through your bag, checking the contents. You muttered to yourself, growing more frantic as you checked again. A few seconds later, you pulled your head up in alarm.

“Shit…” you whispered under your breath.

Rafe’s gaze sharpened as he watched you struggle, a sense of urgency in your movements. He opened the car door slightly, ready to ask if something was wrong.

“Everything okay?” he called, his voice laced with concern.

You turned back, your eyes wide with panic. “I—I can’t find my keys.”

His brow furrowed. “You sure you didn’t leave them in the car?”

You shook your head, feeling your heart pound in your chest. “I’m sure I brought them with me. I always check for them before leaving... but I can’t find them. Oh god…” Your voice trailed off as the panic began to rise again, a wave of dread settling in your stomach.

Rafe’s gaze softened. He could see the distress building in you, and for a split second, he wished he could take that weight off your shoulders.

“Hey,” he called, getting out of the car now, taking a few steps toward you. “Maybe you dropped them inside, or—”

“No,” you interrupted, your voice shaking. “I’m sure I had them when we left the event… Oh my god…” You froze, your hands hovering over your bag again as realization hit you like a ton of bricks. “I dropped them,” you whispered, more to yourself than to Rafe, but he heard you clearly. “When I… when I freaked out. I must’ve dropped them at the event. Damn it.”

You turned around, scanning the ground as if your keys might miraculously appear, but you knew deep down they were long gone. You quickly pivoted and rushed back toward Rafe’s car, your anxiety spiking with each step. Rafe watched you for a moment before following closely behind, his own mind racing as he processed the situation.

“Shit,” you muttered again, coming up to his car and looking inside like you could find your keys by some miracle. Rafe sat there, waiting for you to catch your breath before he spoke. “I’m sorry… I know this is a mess. I just—everything’s falling apart tonight. I didn’t expect any of this, and now… now I’ve lost my damn keys. I don’t know what to do.”

Rafe could see the exhaustion on your face, the mental and emotional toll of the evening weighing heavily on you. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel more alone in this.

“It’s alright,” he said, trying to calm you, his voice soft but firm. “We’ll figure this out. Don’t worry.” He thought for a second, his eyes narrowing in contemplation. “I can call a locksmith, or we can check inside the building for a spare key. Maybe someone can help.”

You were already shaking your head, your eyes glossy with unshed tears. “I… I don’t want to bother anyone. And I don’t want to stay out here all night.”

Rafe saw how visibly shaken you were, how overwhelmed you seemed by everything. The night had gone completely sideways for you, and he couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone, stuck in your apartment, still frazzled.

“You could stay at my place tonight…”

chapter eight

653 notes · View notes

bureauen · 2 days ago

Text

Noor's family of five once had a beautiful home, but it was destroyed by bombs and war. Because of constant displacement, she and her family have little left. Her children have few clothes and are sick! They live in a tent. Food is getting more expensive. Winter is on the horizon. They need your help!

Her daughter Rajaa was infected with hepatitis from malnutrition, her eldest son Hussein can no longer go to school, and her baby boy Youssef needs milk, diapers, and clean drinking water. Her husband, Ashraf suffered from a shoulder injury at the beginning of the war, and has lost his job because the place where he worked was destroyed—he worked as a math teacher at a school.

Noor's donation campaign is a testament to her strength and resilience. She struggles to communicate with me because of internet issues in Gaza, but has nonetheless conveyed this message, which I will now share with you:

"We will continue to live, continue to love, and continue to dream of a better tomorrow."

She loves her children, and thanks everyone who helps her. Please, she has raised only 24,270 / 40,000. I personally am so grateful to all who donated, but I will admit I am deeply saddened how much things have slowed. Like Noor, though, I believe in hope. I believe you can make a difference in her life, for her and her family.

Below, I have tagged individuals @nooranqar1 has requested me to. Her campaign is verified by @90-ghost, though her old account was deleted. See here: https://www.tumblr.com/90-ghost/753980516275994624/legit-fundraiser?source=share.

@dirhwangdaseul-archived @girlinafairytale @khangerinedreams @prisonhannibal

@rhubarbspring @neptunerings @heliopixels @neechees

@anneemay-blog @lesboevils @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @heritageposts @dykesbat

@tamamita @tamarrud @nabulsi27 @punkitt-is-here

#art #palestine fundraisers #artists on tumblr #gaza #free palestine #mutual aid #polls #digital art #palestine #🇵🇸

545 notes · View notes

sevikasupremacy · 2 days ago

Text

Waking Up in Sevika’s Apartment After a Night Out

➼ Yeah…you pretty much blacked out last night.

➼ You promised yourself you wouldn’t drink that much but you got carried away.

➼ You remembered dancing your heart out at the Last Drop (That was before chugging a whole bottle of alcohol).

➼ After that it’s like you skipped a few chapters of your life.

➼ And you might’ve mistaken someone’s apartment for yours…

➼ So after multiple failed attempts of fitting the key into the lock, you resorted to kicking the door open.

➼ Now imagine how freaked out Sevika was when she saw a stranger’s pair of shoes near the doorway. She actually thought she broke into someone else’s home.

➼ After scanning her surroundings Sevika was definitely sure it was her apartment.

➼ She already had her mechanical arm charged up as she made her way toward her bedroom.

➼ But as soon as she pushed the door open, she froze.

➼ There you were, wrapped like a burrito on her bed.

➼ So what exactly happened that night?

➼ The only thing you were aware of the moment you woke up was the extreme headache.

➼ It took you a while to come to the conclusion that this was not your apartment.

➼ You quickly gathered all your stuff, tiptoeing toward the door when your head bumped into something. Well actually… someone.

➼ “L-Look, I’m really sorry I’ve been drinking and I thought this was my apartment and I was too drunk to even think straight so please I didn’t mean to intrude or anything ok? Forget that this ever happened ok?”

➼ You said that in one breath without even looking at the owner of the apartment was.

➼ It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

➼ “Drink some water first.”

➼ You froze, not sure if you heard what she said correctly. So you slowly lifted your head to only realize who the owner of the apartment was.

➼ “Oh fuc—“

➼ “Come.”

➼ Sevika would drag you into the kitchen to fetch you a glass of water and she’ll make sure to sit you down.

➼ “I can leave after right..?”

➼ “What? You wanna stay?”

➼ You had to admit that you almost shit your pants when you realized you were sleeping in Silco’s right hand woman’s bed the entire night, but honestly at this point — you might as well go back to sleep and get rid of this hangover.

➼ You doubt you could make it back home in this state.

➼ Sevika sighed and pointed at the door to her bedroom, her eyes not leaving you.

➼ “There better not be a second time.”

➼ That was a lie.

➼ There was a second time.

➼ And many more to come.

➼ Because years later, you found yourself eventually moving in with this woman.

➼ And she wasn’t just Silco’s right hand woman —

➼ She was now your wife.

#arcane #arcane x reader #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika imagine #arcane fanfic #sevika x you #sevika x female reader #sevika x y/n

556 notes · View notes

hedgehog-moss · 12 hours ago

Text

I was thinking earlier that I find autumn gardening a lot more soothing than spring or summer gardening. Fewer things happen, there's no urgency, you're no longer pressed by strict tomato schedules. In the spring I plant vegetables (daily maintenance, many opportunities for mistakes), in autumn I get rid of broom (there's no wrong way to kill broom) and plant trees (a finite task.) Trees have independent spirits, you plant them and do your best to put them in good conditions and then you're free; but carrots have needs. Vegetables need sisyphean amounts of weeding and watering—not too much but not too little—, I’ve got to check leaf colour to see if I'm doing something wrong (with tomatoes the answer is yes), they get mildewy, they get attacked by insects, they need protection from chickens (it's easier to protect a tree from deer than a courgette plant from hens) and frequent tiny haircuts and sponge baths like royal wives. Things can go wrong with baby trees too but they don't expect you to worry about them every day, they're doing their thing, you're doing your thing.

Also planting trees & the large-scale weeding I do in autumn can be done cleanly if I'm careful, but even with gloves I find it impossible to plant & weed a vegetable garden without getting my hands dirty. At some point or other you just have to touch dirt. When you choose to live a rural life everyone assumes you must enjoy touching dirt with your hands but I do not. It's not a texture thing or a germ thing, it’s just that having dirty hands places an obstacle between me and my books. I didn’t like to make sandcastles on the beach as a kid for this reason, I’ve always been reluctant to touch things that might cling to my skin, like soil or wet sand, because now there’s a wall of glass called rinse your hands between me and the book I carry on my person. This creates a nagging psychological discomfort.

I read a book by a woman gardener last spring in which she says she wouldn't even mind getting no harvest because she feels soothed by the very act of gardening, and I felt bad for gardening in a utilitarian, result-oriented way and not having attained her higher stage of soul development, but in autumn I get it. It's nice to clear an area of brambles and plant a tree and then sit down to read for a bit next to this quiet and friendly entity you planted that doesn't need anything from you in the immediate future. I could do this with no expectations. I have a very different relationship with my spring carrots but that's okay, I've decided I'm an autumn gardener and now that I'm in a category I feel secure.

#crawling along

561 notes · View notes

entitled-fangirl · 2 days ago

Text

All the time we wish for.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT just smut dude

Summary: Cregan is eager to show his wife the Northern hot springs.

A/n: Based on an ask from forever ago- I think from @princessvelaryon before we became friends but I can't remember 😭😭 queen if it was you, you're a real one

Masterlist

...........................................

"Cregan, where are w-"

"-Just trust me, sweet girl. Trust me."

She eyes him, not able to stay angry at the happiness that radiates from him. "I do…" she trailed off.

"Almost there. Should be right…" his head turned back and forth in search of something. "Ah." He pulled her in the direction his eyes were set on.

He pulls her into a cave, immediately moving to take off her cloak. She pulls away in concern at first- taking off a cloak in the dead of winter here feels like a death sentence. But his head tilted just slightly and he moved forward to do it again, to which she let him.

The fur dropped onto the ground of the cave. She looked over her shoulder at it.

At the sight of her neck exposed, Cregan leaned to her and nipped at the skin.

She jumped, a breath escaping her. "Cregan, my cloak-"

"The cold won't seep into your bones here," he muttered against her neck.

"What?"

"You're not cold, are you?" He asked.

She looked down to the goosebumps on her arms, but she knew it wasn't from the cold.

He lips pulled into a small smile. "My father showed me my first hot spring when I was a boy of six. Warmed us when snow fell a moon before it was supposed to. I've been hunting these spots out for years now. But this one is by far my favorite."

She took in the sight, walking further into the cave. Exactly as he said, the further she moved in, the less the cold could bother her. She looked back to him, to which he waved out, encouraging her to explore it more.

A light waterfall poured into a small pool of water, steam waving around it.

He moved behind her, now without his own cloak. His fingers brushed against her arm. "Do you want to try it?"

"You can… get in?"

"You can. If you want."

"I do," she breathed as she stared out at the water.

Cregan's fingers moved to her dress, pulling at the laces. His scarred and calloused fingers became gentle with her, as if handling thin glass. The laces were pulled with a gentleness she didn't even feel, but she knew from the way his arms moved from her peripheral vision and the loosening of her dress.

Eventually, she had to hold the dress up as he finished. It would have been hard to tell when he was finished if not for the sudden kisses he began to place on her shoulder. The rough pads of his fingers pushed away the material.

She let go, letting it fall to the ground. Cregan took on the next challenge of her thin layers of underskirt, but he was quick to pull the ribbons apart. Piece by piece, her clothing fell onto the dirt covered floor of the cave, but neither really cared.

She was growing impatient, and by the time Cregan had untied the last bit of her skirt, she was all but tearing at her shift. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons, the adrenaline doing nothing to help her coordination. He pushed her up against his chest, reaching his arms around to help her.

She watched his large fingers unbutton each one at a pace too slow for her. "Cregan-"

"-We have all the time we wish for," He murmured.

She forced herself to take a small breath, though it was shaky.

Cregan's hand ran down her stomach once he finished, admiring the woman against him.

She whined lightly and leaned her head back against his shoulder, to which she earned a chuckle from him. His hand moved down her shift, grabbing the fabric and beginning to pull it up at an agonizingly slow pace.

She felt the air move up her legs as the shift came up until it paused at her upper thigh. "Don't stop now."

"Should I?" He asked as his nose pressed to the side of her head, his voice in her ear. "I do love to watch you beg, my love."

"You either continue the Stark line with me in this hot spring-"

"Or what?" He asked with a smirk, pulling away from her and turning her to face him. Her shift fell back down.

Her confidence faltered for a second, then turned to teasing. "Or the line ends with you."

A low growl sounded from his throat. His eyes raked over her slowly as a new light came to his eyes. "Take it off."

She did so, dropping it quickly as Cregan focused on the strings of his doublet.

As soon as she was bare, she moved to help Cregan but he held a hand out as his eyes took her in. He spoke, but his voice trailed off a bit as if distracted by the sight. "I've… I've got it."

She tilted her head in amusement and ran a hand down his chest, accepting his decision. She moved down to the spring, sitting at the edge, and dipped her leg in. She let out an instinctive groan at the feeling.

Cregan's lips parted as he watched her. He truly did mean to undress himself, but he was distracted.

"Cregan," she chided at him lightly.

He gave a heavy blink and snapped out of his daze, "Sorry, I-"

She gave him a knowing look.

He made quick work of pulling off his doublet, yanking at the strings of the next layer until he stood in only his trousers and boots.

He stepped down to her side, standing behind her with a hesitation.

She peered up at him from under her lashes.

He felt the tent in his pants at the sight, one he was more familiar with than he cared to admit. It reminded him of all the nights he had returned to their chambers in a rage from planning for this war. She had always sat on that sofa with a knowing smile, asking if he was stressed.

She had a way of taking away his stress before he even remembered how it got there.

"Changing your mind now?" She asked him softly.

He shook his head, sitting down next to her and beginning to unlace his boots. "I'd like to believe I'm a man that follows through."

She kicked at the water lightly. "Follow through then."

Cregan's breath hitched as he looked to her. "I will."

He pulled his boots off, throwing them aside and pulling at his pants. He quickly got into the small pool, letting out a sinful groan as the warmth enveloped him.

She watched the man with pure adoration in her eyes. The way his broad shoulders flexed as he lowered himself made her brush her thighs together.

He turned in the water, now facing her with a broad smile. He pulled himself to her and kissed her leg lightly. He nuzzled at her knee, silently asking her to spread her legs. She hesitated, knowing his smile would only turn cocky if she did so.

He brought a hand up, the water dripping down his wrist. His fingers brushed up her calf to her knee, pushing that leg to the side. His eyes moved slowly to her core, his eyes lighting up.

She felt her entire body heat up as her husband admired her. Though she wanted to close her legs, she'd never felt safer.

He kissed her leg lightly, holding her leg out to give him room. He began to kiss up her leg.

She reached out quickly behind his head to pull his hair up before it dipped in the water. He grinned up at her and continued his movements.

She watched in agony as his lips moved closer and closer to the very place she wanted them. When his lips ghosted over her clit, his breath brushing over it became antagonizing. She tugged at his hair in instinct, earning a playful glare of lust from the man. His light eyes had a dark intent behind them, a sin neither of them were ashamed of.

Cregan laid a soft kiss to her slit, purposefully bumping his nose against her bundle of nerves. A small squeak sounded from her, spurring something deep inside of him.

He stood in the pool, grabbing her hips firmly and lowering her into the water against him. She held his shoulders, relaxing in the warm water.

He shifted her lightly, now completely wrapping his arm around her so their bodies were as close as possible, his face tucking into her neck and kissing at the skin.

Her head fell back, her mouth opening in bliss. As she had done earlier with him, Cregan grabbed her hair, clumping it in one large hand while pulling at the roots as well. It was a mission to him to keep her hair dry, for if it didn't, she'd surely freeze once out of the cave.

"Cregan, please."

The hand around her waist fell, moving down between her thighs. He rubbed at her slit through the water, slipping a finger in.

She gasped.

…

It's an unspoken fact that most Starks were created in the Northern hot springs, and there's no doubt that one was created that cold day.

Cregan had never been more thankful for the sudden snow.

.........................................

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver, @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom, @dozcan123, @wangjiangelangel, @kamitargaryen, @aegonswife, @lv7867, @helpmedecideaname

#fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #game of thrones fanfiction #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark imagine #cregan x reader #cregan stark #cregan stark smut #cregan stark fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd cregan #house of the dragon fic #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones x y/n

472 notes · View notes

incognit0slut · 5 hours ago

Text

Permanent attachment

in which you’re far too comfortable to move from Spencer’s lap, and he doesn’t mind carrying you around

content: fluff, 1.7k, established relationship, lots of kissing, sex talk, kinda fade-to-black smut, reader being very clingy, and spencer’s tummy (my fav) a/n: i once told @mandarinmoons that i wanted to climb the man and not even in a sexual way and she said “like a koala?” and to that i answered YES! self-indulgent fics are the best

Spencer smells nice. Like, annoyingly nice. And it’s not the kind of nice that’s vaguely pleasant. No, this is the kind that settles into your bones. A mix of soap and something uniquely him that you can't quite name but would probably pay an unreasonable amount to bottle up.

Now that sounds like a dream. Imagine Spencer in a bottle, spritzed onto your neck, lingering on your skin. Imagine a personal cloud of him following you everywhere, with top notes of freshly brewed coffee and a base note of comfort that leaves you no choice but to lean in just a bit closer. You shift on his lap, pretending to get comfortable, but really, it's because you want to catch another whiff.

Your boyfriend catches you mid-inhale. "Comfortable?"

You don’t even bother pretending to be embarrassed. Who cares if he knows you’re borderline obsessed? Who wouldn’t be? He’s smart, handsome, and smells like heaven bottled in human form. So instead of pulling away, you double down, pressing your nose right into the curve of his neck as your answer.

"I'm starting to think you might be a little attached.”

You sigh against his skin, “Might be? Spencer, I'm practically grafted onto you at this point. You better get used to it."

A hand runs up your spine. “Not that I’m complaining, but my legs might actually fall asleep if I don’t get up soon.”

“So dramatic,” you tease, smiling as you press a soft kiss to his jaw. The subtle scrape of his stubble tickles your lips.

“I don’t think you’ve moved an inch in the past hour.”

“I don’t even want to move an inch,” you murmur against his cheek. "I just want to stay like this. Forever. If I could just crawl under your skin and stay there, that would be perfect.”

Spencer laughs softly, the sound rumbling under your lips. You feel the warmth of his smile as he tilts his head toward you. “That sounds sweet yet incredibly creepy.”

“You know what I mean!” You slide your arms around him, weaving them across his shoulders. “I just… I want to—ugh, I don't know… squeeze you so tight you’d become part of me? Like an extension of my arm or something."

“That definitely sounds less creepy.”

“Shut up.” Your lips trace the rough scratch of his jaw, brushing along the curve until you reach the corner of his mouth. "Don’t you want someone permanently glued to you?"

“You’re definitely making a case for it.”

“Oh I’d climb you if I had to.”

His hand slides up to cup the back of your neck. “Is this where I find out you’re secretly a koala this whole time?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum against his lips, “and you’re my tall, handsome tree.”

His laughter vibrates against your mouth, and you let yourself melt into him, breathing in that comforting scent you’ve grown addicted to. You love him so much. You love him too much that your heart feels like it’s stretching to make room for all of it.

When he finally pulls back, you can’t resist reaching up to smooth your thumb over his bottom lip. “See? Permanent attachment.”

His own thumb caresses the back of your neck in lazy strokes. You're practically dissolving into him.

"I don’t have much of a choice, do I?" The tip of your nose brushes against his as you shake your head. He steals another quick peck from your lips. "I really do need to get up though.”

You pout immediately. “Why?“

“Because my throat is actually starting to feel a little dry. I could use some water.”

“Water is overrated. Stay.”

“Honey,” he croons softly, his eyes squinting with that familiar crinkle at the corners. He thinks you’re cute when you’re clingy. “The kitchen is only ten feet away.”

“Ten feet too far. Do you know the kind of emotional damage I’ll suffer if we’re apart for too long?”

“So dramatic,” he mocks back, planting a kiss on your jaw, your cheek, and you giggle when his mouth lands on the skin between your ear and your neck. “All I’m asking for is ten feet. I promise I’ll be quick.”

“I might wither away from loneliness by the time you get back.”

You feel the ghost of his smile against your skin. “I’ll be back before you even have a chance to miss me.”

“I miss you already,” you sigh when he gently nips at the soft flesh of your neck. “Maybe you should just take me with you.”

You’re mostly bluffing, half-expecting him to laugh it off because Spencer has never actually carried you before. Not that you’ve ever minded—it’s not exactly the first thing you’d expect from him. But before you can even process it, he shifts beneath you, sliding one arm under your knee and the other around your back with surprising confidence.

And just like that, the floor seems miles away as he lifts you up.

“Wait! Wait!” you laugh, clutching at his shoulders. "Spencer!"

“I thought you wanted to come along."

“I didn’t think you’d actually carry me!”

You’re met with his steady grip, and to your surprise, he’s not struggling in the slightest. Apparently, those arms are stronger than you’d given him credit for, and it’s… well, very, very attractive. He strides confidently across the apartment, and you can’t help but let out an impressed, slightly flustered, “Okay, this is actually kind of hot.”

The corners of his lips twitch upward, but he doesn’t say anything.

“I did not know you were strong enough to do this,” you comment, then a thought sneaks into your mind, “Do you think we can try this position in the bedroom?”

He looks surprised and mildly amused. “Really? While standing?”

You loop your arms tighter around his neck. “You seem perfectly capable.”

“Wouldn’t I be doing all the work?”

“I thought you liked doing all the work.”

His chest presses against yours as he lets out another laugh. “If by that you mean spoil you, then yes, I do,” he says, casting a quick glance around the room. “Can I sit you on the counter, or are you planning to keep hanging on to me?”

“Tempting, but you can put me on the counter.”

With a gentle ease, he lifts you just slightly higher and sets you down on the cool countertop. “I can still carry you around if that’s what you want.”

“I know,” you reply, reaching up to brush a stray lock of curls from his face. “I don’t want to tire you out.”

“You’re not tiring me out,” he assures you as he reaches up to grab a glass from the top shelf, arm stretching just enough to give you a teasing glimpse of his soft stomach.

You can’t help yourself. You reach over and splay your hands over that warm skin, feeling the faint tickle of the fine hair scattered down his belly that disappears into his waistband. He doesn’t flinch—he’s long used to your hands finding their way to him like this—but he does cast a sidelong look in your direction. Behave.

If he’s expecting you to follow some sense of decorum, he should know better by now. You give his stomach a gentle, almost smug pat, and shakes his head as he moves to pour himself water.

“What do you want to do after this?” he asks, glancing back at you over his shoulder. You don’t give him an immediate answer, but he’s already suggesting a few ideas for the rest of the evening.

You can’t even pretend to pay attention. Is it normal to be this obsessed with your boyfriend? Because at this point, your focus isn’t even on the words coming out of his mouth. Something about a documentary, maybe. He’s probably rattling off the details right now, but you’re entirely distracted, your eyes shamelessly zooming in on the way his forearm flexes as he holds the glass. Even the soft hair dusting over his skin is doing things to you.

He catches your blatant stare and looks at you over the rim of his glass.

“What?”

“You are so sexy.”

He almost chokes on his water. The glass clatters against the countertop as he sputters, “What has gotten into you today?”

Probably ovulation. But you simply shrug, legs swinging idly against the cabinets beneath you. “I just love you.”

The answer is simple. Words spoken with all the casual sincerity you feel, but it’s enough to melt his astonishment into affection as he strides over and slips between your thighs.

“You just love me?”

“Yeah,” you reply softly, reaching up to brush over the delicious roughness of his stubble. “Like a ridiculous amount. Probably too much.”

His heart is swelling, so full it feels like it’s about to burst. “I love you too.”

“That’s it?”

You watch as his nose twitches, the smallest hint of a smile playing at his lips before he sighs, “I love you so much, angel."

"I think you can do better than that."

He huffs a chuckle, "I love you too much," he tries again, "more than I even know what to do with."

You smile in satisfaction, a little triumphant over his exaggeration. You’ve taught him well. “Say it again.”

The wide expanse of his palms settles on your waist.

“I am madly,” he presses a kiss to your cheek, “deeply,” another finds its way to your jaw, “hopelessly,” he murmurs as he grows even closer to your lips, “in love,” he’s a breath away from yours, “with you.”

The space between you shrinks to nothing. You swallow his last words, letting them dissolve on your tongue like the sweetest confection. What begins as a delicate melding of warmth and breath quickly intensifies, as though he’s determined to steal every bit of air from your lungs. And before you know it, his hands are sliding under you.

A surprised squeal escapes your lips as he lifts your weight, and an even louder gasp follows when he carries you toward the bedroom.

You know exactly what he plans to do for the rest of the evening.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid drabble #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fanfic #lou answers #criminal minds fanfic #Spencer reid imagine #lou writes

444 notes · View notes

mostlymarvelsstuff · 3 days ago

Text

Fish Tale

Summary: Reader has formed an unusual relationship with a mermaid that saved her life a few months before. This relationship evolves further when a friend of that mermaid watches them have their fun, and even further evolves when a group of sailors find the mermaids

Warnings: fantasy typical violence (fights with fists, knives & swords), light angst (reader gets hurt but lives), Reader has a penis, smut (vaginal penetration, brief handjob, oral, fingering)

Authors note: I'm sorry its so late 😭 hope you guys still enjoy it!

Word count: 8353

WandaNat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist Halloween 2024 Masterlist

Waves gently roll up on the sand as you walk along the shoreline. Up ahead, among the rocks, you can just barely make out the shine of red tresses in the moonlight, and it brings a smile to your face. You make your way further down the beach, heading right for the rock pile. As you get a bit closer the individual turns and smiles at you

“You're late” she scolds, but her voice softens, “I was starting to get worried”

“I”m sorry, my love. The crew insisted I go with them to the pub tonight and wouldn't take no for an answer”

“It’s okay, I’m just glad you're here now” she says, patting the sand beside her, “Sit with me?”

“It would be my pleasure” you reply, already starting to work your boots off

You sit down beside her in the damp sand and let the waves wash over your lower legs. Beside you her tail swishes playfully in the shallow water, and you take a moment to appreciate the way her dark scales shine. It reminds you of a starlit sky, inky black with small specks that shimmer

“The night I rescued you was like this” she comments, bringing you out of your thoughts, “Calm and peaceful after the storm that had hit the day before”

“It was. And I’m still so grateful that you found me. I wouldn’t be here if not for you.”

“I’m glad I found you too, I’ve never known a human like you” she admits, bringing her hand to rest on yours

“You've never known a human at all” you tease

“Personally, no. But I’ve come across enough to know what they think of my kind and I know how they treat us. You aren’t like that though, you're different.”

“Well, I never saw any point in hating or fearing your kind. Even before you rescued me” you admit

“That's why you're special” she says, squeezing your hand affectionately, “You don’t hate what you don’t understand”

“Well, you're special too since you don’t either. I’m sure there's plenty of your kind that would despise me”

“There are.” She nods, “It's why I always have us meet here, they’d never risk being in this cove”

“Which is funny because most of my kind wouldn’t be here either. The average townsperson doesn’t even know this cove is here. And most sailors are too afraid it's haunted by the pirates that were killed and buried here a century ago.”

“Lucky us” she comments, letting her hand move from yours on the sand to cup your cheek

“Lucky us indeed” you agree, leaning closer to her, “I’ve missed you”

“I’ve missed you too, so much” she says, pulling you in for a kiss

You shift in the sand to be closer to her as your tongue slides into her mouth, and her hands grasp the back of your shirt tightly. She lets out a moan as your hand caresses the scales of her tail and pulls you even closer

“I need you, dorogoy(darling)”

A jolt of arousal goes through you at her admission and you can feel your pants beginning to get tighter at your crotch. You shift slightly to alleviate the pressure, which she notices, and she eagerly starts to palm your bulge. You let out a soft moan at the action but quickly move her hand aside to undo your trousers. She watches you strip and chuckles when you stumble, but all humor is forgotten once you're completely bare in front of her.

You straddle her tail and brush her long hair behind her back, exposing her neck gills and breasts to both your eyes and the night air. She shivers slightly, but also bites her lip in anticipation as she watches you eye her like a hungry seal

“You're so beautiful”

She moans as you grab her tits, and her tail shifts beneath you as she attempts to seek more pleasure. You chuckle at her eagerness but relent, letting go of one of her plump mounds to grab your cock and guide it to her slit. There's already a decent amount of her arousal leaking out from it and onto her scales which helps you to slide inside her with ease. You both let out moans at the feeling of your tip spreading her open, and she lets out another as you slip further in

“God, you feel so good” you murmur as you lower yourself further down, making her lean back and rest snuggly in the sand

She wraps her arms around your neck to pull you even closer, “So do you…fuck”

You smirk at that and begin to thrust your hips. Her hold on you tightens as you find a rhythm and you're almost certain you can feel her nails breaking the skin on your shoulder blades, but you hardly care. Your only focus right now is bringing her pleasure while getting yours as well

You brace your hands in the sand beside her as you quicken your pace and start to trail kisses across her chest as she pants, “Yes…yes…right there!”

“Fuck yes” you hum in agreement, feeling yourself beginning to throb as her walls flutter around you, “I’m gonna cum”

You admission makes a deep moan leave her before she's able to respond, “Me too, cum with me, please”

With a few more thrusts you're bringing her over the edge, and you follow swiftly behind. You continue to fuck her through both your orgasms, though your pace is slower now, to prolong the feeling and only stop when she whimpers and pushes on your shoulder gently

You still inside of her and lean down for a kiss. It's full of passion and longing on both ends, and you can practically feel her begging the universe for morning to never come, so the two of you can spend forever like this. Together, intertwined in passion in the still warm sands on the shore. But you unfortunately know that wish will never come to be

She breaks the kiss and looks at you with such care that your heart could burst, “I love you”

“I love you too, Tasha”

She tries to not let her emotions show, but the shine of unshed tears doesn’t go unnoticed, “I wish it could always be like this. Just the two of us, together and not confined to the secrecy of nights”

“I know” you murmur, resting your forehead against hers as you shift an arm closer to her to offer comfort, “I wish that too, so badly”

Her hands cup your face, “Will you hold me?”

You nod and shift away from her, pulling your now softened member free of her as you situate yourself. You both take a moment to appreciate the way your seed spills from her before you move to lay in the sand beside her. Your arms wrap around her waist and you pull her flush against you. She wraps her arms around you as well and nuzzles her face against your neck.

The two of you stay like that, wordlessly embracing each other as your hands softly map out the muscles of her back while hers keep you as close as possible until you both fall into a peaceful sleep

You're awoken hours later by the sound of gulls nearby and when you open your eyes you can just barely see the sun beginning to rise over the horizon. Your gaze then falls on the still sleeping mermaid in your hold and you can’t help but smile. She's so beautiful and looks so at peace like this. You wish you could hold her like this whenever either of you saw fit or wanted it, not just as she slept. But longing for the impossible will do you no good, so instead you shuffle closer and press a gentle kiss to her neck just above her gills.

The corners of her mouth twitch ever so slightly, “Good morning”

“Good morning, my love” you reply, letting your fingers run through her hair

“Do we still have some time together?”

You glance back to the sunrise, “A bit”

“Good” she hums, wrapping her tail around your legs, “Don’t want to say goodbye yet”

“I never want to” you admit

She smiles at you sadly, “Neither do I”

You lean forward and connect your lips to hers, momentarily taking both your minds off your impending departure as you both pour your love for the other out into the kiss. After a few minutes of making out you reluctantly pull away, but she pulls you back in for more

Finally you manage to break the kiss, “Tasha, I have to go”

“Stay?” she asks, looking at you with such longing that your chest aches, “Just a bit longer?”

“You know I wish I could” you reply, cupping her face and brushing away a stray tear, “But I can’t. I’m sorry my love”

Though disappointed she understands, “When will I see you again?”

“Two days from now” you answer as you sit up. You grab your discarded clothes and shake the sand out before beginning to put your shirt back on, “It's not a long wait, but I will still miss you”

“I’ll miss you too”

You lean back down for another kiss before you stand and start putting your undergarments and pants on. As you do so she slides down the shoreline a bit and gets her tail in the water. She lets the cool water wash away all signs of your night together as she uses her hands to knock as much sand from her hair as possible. Her gaze falls back on you once your boots are back on and you give her your best smile

“Go ahead home, my love. I don’t want to leave until I’m sure your safe”

She smiles at you though it doesn't reach her eyes and she slides further into the water. Once she's deep enough for your liking she turns back around, “Be careful moya lyubov'(my love), I’ll see you soon”

“I will be, and I’ll see you soon”

You watch her reluctantly go under the water and you're able to track her shallow movements for a bit until she goes out past where any man would dare swim. It's only then that you turn and start to head back up the beach. You enter the treeline and follow your slightly worn path back to the main road, which you then follow to town. Thankfully it was early enough that most folk would still be asleep, and those that weren’t were either too hungover to care about your disheveled appearance or were fellow sailors themselves and knew better than to ask where one of their own found themselves after a night of drinks.

Eventually you make it back to your small house and are greeted outside by the ornery stray that you let crash at your place. You chuckle at his scraggly meow and reach down to pet him. He purrs and flops down in front of you

“Silly cat. Come on, it's breakfast time”

He hops up and scurries to your front door where he yowls and scratches at the wood. He bolts inside as soon as you open the door and runs right to your small table. He jumps up on it and yowls some more, clearly impatient with you. You chuckle and toss him a fish you'd grabbed on your way through town. He happily licks and munches on it as you head back outside to collect some water from your well. Once back inside you head to your room with the small bin of water and strip yourself.

You use a sponge and the basin of water to clean yourself up and get rid of all the remaining sand and grime from your body. After you deem yourself clean enough you get changed and head back into the other room. All that's left on your table are the bones of the fish and the cat now sits in your windowsill all stretched out

“I’ll see you later boy.” you tell him, scratching his chin before heading out the door and back to the docks

Finally it's two days later and Natasha can hardly contain her excitement. She thought she was being discreet enough, but apparently she hadn’t been because her best friend, fellow mermaid Wanda, is inquiring about her mood

“What's got you so happy today?”

“Am I not normally happy?” Nat deflects, but it doesn’t deter her friends curiosity

Wanda rolls her eyes, “You are, but tonight seems different. It's like you're anticipating something”

Nat just shrugs, “Can’t I just be in a good mood?”

“You can, I’m sorry” Wanda says, deciding it's best to drop the matter. Though she definitely knows her best friend is up to something.

Hours later this is confirmed when she notices the redhead slip away from their pod. She knows she should give her friend privacy, but she also knows Nat is hiding something and she's far too curious to just let that slide. She discreetly follows behind at a distance, making sure she's far enough behind to not be spotted but also close enough that she wouldn’t lose the redhead.

Eventually they’re in shallow water by the shoreline, and when Nat slides herself up on the beach Wanda takes cover behind some rocks nearby. She hopes that with only her head above the water she will blend in with them in the cover of darkness. She watches as a human appears and starts to make their way down the beach towards her friend. Her heart hammers in her chest as panic fills her, she can see that Nat also notices the human so why doesn’t she hide? Why does she sit there like an open target?

Natasha can hardly contain herself when she finally sees you approaching her, if she had legs she knows she’d be running to you. Instead she sits and waits with a big smile on her face as you hurriedly advance. As soon as you're within arms reach she holds out her arms to you and you let out a chuckle. You eagerly oblige however and quickly kneel in the sand to engulf her in your embrace

“Missed you” she mumbles against your neck as she practically melts into your hold

You card your fingers through her still damp locks, “Missed you too. I always do”

She pulls back a bit in order to give you a kiss, which you happily reciprocate before sitting down fully in the sand. Nat doesn’t move far though and keeps her arms firmly around you, but you don’t mind. You're just as happy to hold her as she is

As the two of you embrace, Wanda nearly has a meltdown. What in the world was Natasha doing sneaking off to meet a human? What in the world was she doing kissing a human? This wasn't just out of character for the older mermaid but was quite dangerous as well. It just didn’t make sense. There were plenty of suitable members of their pod and plenty in it that liked the redhead, so she couldn't fathom why she’d chose to be with a disgusting and terrible creature like humans.

She knows this is a private moment between her best friend and her apparent lover, but knowing what humans are capable of, knowing what they’ve taken from her, she just can’t find it in herself to leave. She probably wouldn’t be much help if something happened, mind you, but she’d rather be here just in case rather than leave Natasha at the mercy of a potential threat.

Back on shore you continue to hold Natasha, whose hands travel down to your own to toy with your fingers. However as she does so her eyes follow and she notices an injury to your forearm. Her brows furrow in concern as one of her palms soothes your inflamed flesh

“What happened?”

“Rope burn” you answer, “A rigging line near me snapped. Thankfully this was all that happened”

She pretends to understand fully, but she gets the gist, “You’re okay then?”

“Yeah, I'll be healed up in no time”

She continues to gently caress your skin there for a bit, trying to distract herself from the nagging thoughts at the back of her head about how she wouldn’t know if you were badly hurt until you missed showing up for a nighttime rendezvous. You can sense a bit of her inner turmoil and pull her closer, hoping that the current closeness to you will drown out the negativity

The two of you spend the next couple hours in various cuddled positions while talking about everything and nothing. You were both truly content to just get this time together, it wasn’t rare per say, but it was always hard for both of you to be without each other throughout the day. And even harder to spend a few days and nights apart from each other entirely. Normally that meant Nat and you would spend the night together on the beach, but she knew her best friend had been suspicious today and didn’t want to risk it

“I should go” she says, quickly continuing once she notices your hurt and confused expression, “Wanda caught on thay I was excited for something today, I just don’t want to risk her being nosey and waking early or perhaps not even be sleeping yet”

You nod in understanding, “Okay. I’ll see you here tomorrow, right?”

“Of course” she assures, leaning in for a kiss

After you break apart you reluctantly let her go and watch her slide into the water, “I love you”

“I love you too” she replies with a sad smile before submerging

As you stood and walked back up the beach you had no idea that a confrontation was occurring just below the waves. As soon as Nat had started to depart Wanda had dove under and waited, this was a conversation that definitely could’t occur back at their pod.

“Wanda, what-”

“Don’t” she interrupts, “Natasha, what the hell are you thinking?! A human?! Really?!”

“She's different” she stresses

But Wanda isn’t having it, “She's a human!”

“She isn’t afraid of us, she doesn’t find us disgusting, she isn’t cruel or violent” she explains, “She is nothing but kind, generous and loving”

Wanda still looks displeased and crosses her arms, “She's still a human. What would happen if the rest of the pod found out, or your parents?”

Natashas eyes widened, “You can’t tell them, please Wanda.”

“I’m just trying to keep you safe” she stresses

“I am safe!” Nat assures, “Y/n would never hurt me, not ever. She loves me, just as I love her”

“And what about her friends or just her townspeople, do they share that sentiment?”

“You know they don’t” she scoffs

“Then you aren’t safe”

“Wanda, please” she begs, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and I’ve never been treated the way she treats me. Can’t you just be happy for me and let me have this? Please?”

Wanda bites her tongue, keeping the snide comment about not being able to fully be with this human anyway so why did it matter to herself, “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I know, and I love how fiercely protective you are, but I promise you, Y/n is different. And she would do anything to keep me safe” The younger mermaid huffs, clearly not convinced, “I’m seeing her again tomorrow, come with me”

“What?”

“Come with me, come meet her” Nat explains, “You’ll see what she's really like and maybe you’ll understand. But even if you still don’t you can at least be at ease knowing I’m in good hands with her”

“I don’t know Nat…” she sighs

“Please, just do this. And if you still have bad feelings about it after meeting her then….then you can tell my parents.”

“You really mean that?” she questions, finding hard to even entertain the idea of enjoying a humans company

“I do” she confirms

“Okay. I’ll come with you tomorrow”

Nat lets out a sigh of relief, “Thank you”

“Mhm, now come on. Let's get back before someone notices our absence and we have to explain”

The next night comes quicker than Natasha had anticipated, probably due to how nervous she is. She wants to believe that Wanda will be able to get over her deep hatred for the entire human race once she gets to know you and maybe eventually she can even become friendly with you. But she's aware of just how much the other woman has lost at the hands of humans and would understand if that never happened. Really she just needs Wanda to like you, and considering how easily she liked you, she's hopeful, but still nervous.

“Are you ready to have your midnight rendezvous with your lover?”

Nat tries to hide the fact that her best friends teasing has made her blush, “Quiet, someone might hear you”

Despite her disapproval Wanda chuckles, “Come on, lets go”

The two swim in a comfortable silence until they near the shoreline, “Let me go up first and explain whats going on?”

Wanda nods, “Sure, I wouldn’t want to scare your human away.”

Nat glares at her before she swims up and slides onto the beach. She only has to wait a few minutes before you arrive. You eagerly greet her like you normally do, with a hug and a kiss, which she eagerly indulges you in. But then you notice her looking at you rather seriously

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing wrong, at least, I hope so” she starts out, “My friend Wanda- ”

“Your best friend”

Nat smiles and feels her heart flutter, just the fact that you always remembered the small things about her made her feel so cared for, “Yes, well, she followed me here last night. She saw us together.”

Your face pales, “I image she isn’t happy”

“She isn’t happy about it, but she's willing to meet you. To try and understand us.” she explains, “She's waiting for me to grab her, I just wanted you to know”

“Okay, yeah. Go ahead”

She quickly slides back into the water and shortly emerges with a brunette mermaid in tow. She looks a bit grumpy but she's just as beautiful. You smile warmly at her in the hopes to ease the tension between you both. She slides up on the beach beside Natasha.

“Hi Wanda, it's nice to meet you, Natashas talked a lot about you.” you greet, “I’m Y/n”

Wanda nods in your direction, “I unfortunately can’t say the same”

Nat blushes a bit in embarrassment, “I just knew how you’d react”

Is quiet for a moment before Wanda regards you, “How did you two meet?”

“She saved my life” you admit, “I was out on my old fishing vessel and there was a sudden storm, the ship took major damage and I fell overboard. I was adrift at sea on some debris for a few hours. Once the storm passed she found me. She thought I was dead at first until she got closer, and she was surprised by my calm reaction to her. We spent some time just staring at each other and talking before she took me to shore”

Wanda gives her friend a side glance, “That's all it took?”

She shrugs, “She didn’t respond to me like most humans do and was kind. I wasn’t just going to leave her out there. The elements would have killed her quickly, or the sharks would have. That felt cruel”

Wanda realizes she differs from Natasha greatly here, because she would have just left you there to die. In her eyes, after losing both parents and her brother to their cruel ways, all humans deserve to die. It didn’t matter if they were in trouble or if they seemed nice. A human was a human.

“So you two just started seeing each other after that?”

“Kinda” Nat says, “We were both pretty enamored with each other and agreed to start meeting up at this beach on occasion.”

“Eventually on occasion became every free moment we both had, and we realized we felt something for each other.” you explain

“Something we couldn’t deny” Nat continues

Wanda observes the way you both look at each other, and she recognizes the love that's so obviously there. She used to see it all the time in her parents, and if she was finally being honest with herself it's also the same way she herself looked at Natasha

“Promise me that you’ll take care of her? That you won’t hurt her?” Wanda asks, staring at you intently

“I promise. Natasha means the world to me, I could never harm her”

Nat grabs ahold of your hand and the brunette nods, “You better mean that, or else”

You chuckle slightly and look at Nat, “You were right, she did give me the talk”

The three of you spend the rest of the night talking, and you and Wanda get to know each other a bit. She isn’t incredibly open about anything, but she's far more talkative than Natasha had anticipated her to be. She's happy about that though, and she thinks you’ll be good for Wanda. Carrying around so much hate and bitterness for your entire species was slowly driving her down a dark path, and truthfully she was worried at times that she’d lose the brunette to it. But this was a good start in the opposite direction.

After a few more hours pass they decide they should head back, and you bid them both farewell. Your goodbye with Nat was of course longer and more intimate, which Wanda teased you both about before they slipped into the sea and headed home.

It didn’t take long after that for a new routine to occur. Now instead of only Natasha visiting you at night, Wanda did too. Not every time, as she still wanted to give you and Nat your time together as a couple, but she did occasionally tag along. It was nice, for both you and her. It gave you a mermaid other than that to learn things about and from, and it made you feel more at ease knowing Nat had a good friend. And it helped Wanda see that there is some good out there in humans. It might not be common but it did exist, and knowing you better also helped her trust you with her best friend's care.

And Natasha was more than happy to see the two of you getting along. Other than her family, you and Wanda were the most important people in her life so for you to be becoming friends made her incredibly happy. She had always hoped the two of you would be able to get close, she just hadn't known how it would come to be. Thankfully, Wanda had taken care of that part by following her curiosity. Something both you and Nat still teased her for.

But one night, to everyone's surprise, about three months after you and Wanda had solidified your friendship another change happened. It started out as any normal night with Natsha would. She came alone this time, or so she thought, and waited for you on the beach as she usually would. You greeted her like usual, holding her close and giving her a few kisses. But it was clear rather quickly that she wanted and needed more than that tonight. She eagerly pulled you closer, kissed you deeper and palmed your bulge.

You groaned against her lips and pressed yourself further into her touch, “Tasha”

“I’m right here, detka(baby)” she assures in a hushed tone as she continues her movements.

After a few more strokes she undoes your pants and slips your now hardened member free. You let out a subconscious sigh of relief as you're freed from the confines of your pants, and when her hand wraps around you again you throb. She smirks at you and your expression of enjoyment before she lowers herself. She wraps her lips around your tip and teases it with her tongue

“Oh god, Tasha” you moan as you bring your hand up to tangle in her still damp hair

She hums around you and takes you deeper into her mouth, eliciting sounds of pleasure from you as she begins to bob her head. Between her tongues movements, the feeling of her mouth around you, and the sounds she makes as she chokes on your cock, you know you won’t last terribly long

What both of you failed to realize however was that at some point Wanda had changed her mind about joining Natasha on the beach tonight. When the redhead had first asked about it she had declined but she was bored tonight and decided no harm could come from heading up a bit late. She hadn’t anticipated that the two of you would be involved in such an act, let alone right out in the open

She knows she shouldn’t be watching, this was a very personal and intimate act, but she finds herself unable to look away. She’d be lying if she claimed to have never had any more than friendly feelings for her best friend, and as she got to know you she found those same feelings emerging. She never intended to say anything as she valued her friendships with both of you too much to risk ruining them in any way. But maybe there was no harm in merely watching. At least that's what she told herself

Back on the beach you're getting close to release, and Natasha knows it based on the way you throb in her mouth. She doubles down on her efforts and with a few more bobs of her head she finds herself swallowing your load. She releases you with a soft pop and looks up to find you trying to catch your breath. But when you open your eyes, your shocked to see Wanda out in the water. Nat feels the way you stiffen and immediately turns to see whats wrong and she's shocked to see Wanda as well.

But her eyes briefly meet yours and she smirks as she looks back out to the brunette, “Well, are you just going to wade there all night?”

Wanda's cheeks heat up as she realizes she's been caught, and she decides to come forward. She joins you both on the beach, “I’m sorry, I hadn’t meant to intrude”

“If you wanted to see, or to join, all you had to do was ask Wans” the redhead admits

Wanda is taken back by this, and searches her best friend's face for any sign of teasing or insincerity, but she finds none. She looks at you then and sees nothing but a soft and welcoming expression

“You think Y/n and I havent noticed how close you’ve been getting with us? You think we haven’t been feeling and wanting some of the same things?”

Wanda just stares, too shocked by the admittance to say anything, so you speak up, “We have noticed Wanda, and we want you too”

“You do?”

Nat smiles and cups her face, “We do”

And that's how Wanda finds herself on her back in the sand with Nat groping at her tits and sucking marks against her neck while your fingers stretch her open. She whimpers as you curl them just right and her tail thrashes lightly in an adorable manner

“You're doing so good for us” you coo as you continue to pump your fingers, causing her walls to clench down around you

She moans again at Nat smirks against her collarbone, “Thats it Wans, just like that. Just let go”

She moans your names as she comes undone, clutching at the redhead while wrapping her tail around you to keep you both close as you continue to help her through her orgasm. Eventually you pull your fingers free and offer them to Nat, whole eagerly cleans them

You look down at Wanda with a smirk, “We’re going to have so much fun with you, sweetheart”

A few months have gone by since then, and Wanda has easily fit into your dynamic. You're a bit more at ease now too, knowing that in your absences they at least have each other. But god do you miss them terribly when away. Thankfully your crew would be taking some much needed time off, and you intended to spend every night of that time on the beach with the two of them. You knew they were as excited as you were.

Your just on your way to the market to procure supper for the night when one of your crewmates, the youngest of them actually runs up to you as if his pants were ablaze

“Y/n! Come on, you gotta come with me!” he shouts as he starts to pull you away from the hustle and bustle of the market. You have no choice but to follow

“What's all the fuss about Charlie?” you ask as the younger man hurries you along

“Phil and the guys caught something, and you have to see it to believe it!”

Your stomach twists as he suddenly turns onto the rather hidden path that you usually take to the cove. But you try to quench your anxieties. You normally met them at night afterall and it was still early morning, surely they wouldn’t be here yet. Phil probably nabbed a big hammerhead, you know they frequented the old wreck nearby.

“Charlie! Down here!” you hear Stu call out as you both break through the tree line and step onto the beach.

He's pointing at a net that Erik is attempting to drag further out of the water. A task that is much harder than it should be due to the intense flopping of the nets contents. Charlie quickly bolts down the beach to help him and as you get closer you can finally make out what's thrashing around in the green and brown netting. And that's when your heart drops into your stomach. It's just as you feared, the occupants of the net are indeed your two beloved mermaids, and they're beyond terrified. Natasha does a good job at seeming stoic, but you've learned to read her well. And Wanda doesn’t even try to hide it as she clutches onto the redhead. But after everything humans have done to her family, you don't’ blame her

“Kogda ya osvobozhus', ya pererezhu tebe vse glotki!(when I am free, I will cut all your throats!)” she snears

“Keep your spells to yourself sea witch, or I’ll carve out your tongue right here!” Phil threatens as he kicks her red tail. That's when he notices your arrival, “Ah, Y/n!”

“Phil.” you curtly greet, trying not to let any venom from the rage you currently feel slip into your words as you feel two pairs of green eyes land on you.

“Look at what I managed to capture!” he says all excited, “Can you believe it!”

“Such rare creatures” Erik says, “To find two of them, we are lucky!”

“Yeah, and all of it's bad. They're such disgusting things” Stu adds, and you have to fight back the urge to correct him with your fist

“They're monsters. Killers” Charlie adds, “One of these things took my father to the grave, if given the chance, they'd take us to our graves too.”

“Dorogoy(darling), please” Natasha calls out, breaking your heart

You know it seems like you're not going to do anything to help them, as all you've done is stand and stare, but in reality you've been planning how to take out all four men on your own since you laid eyes on her and Wanda.

“It can speak like we do” Erik states in awe

Stu looks absolutely mortified, “I say we gut them right here. Bring only their corpses back to town. They don’t need to be alive to be seen as more than fables.”

“Y/n! Please!” Wanda begs, tears streaming down her face

That's when the chaos momentarily calms, and all men turn to you. You're already braced to fight, as there's no way in hell you’d let them slaughter the women you loved.

“It knows your name” Phil states as he eyes you suspiciously

“She. She knows my name” you correct, “Actually they both do, and I know theirs”

Now Stu is looking at you too, “What?”

Instead of answering you throw a punch at Erik. He hadn’t seen it coming and so it takes him off balance and he falls to his hands and knees in the sand and Charlie scrambles away from your other side

“What the fuck are you doing!?” Phil shouts as he reaches down to help Erik up

“I’m not going to let you kill them”

“Why the fuck not?!” Stu questions as he pulls out his knife and points it towards the net, “These things aren’t natural!”

You pull your knife out too, “I swear if you hurt either of them, I’ll gut you like you threatened to do to them”

Phil opens his mouth, likely in an attempt to calm everyone down and figure out just what is going on in your head, but Erik doesn’t give him a chance. As soon as he's on his feet again he's charging at you. You dodge his punch and land one of your own to his gut, avoiding using the hand that held the blade. He lets out an oomph as he stumbles away from you and Charlie rushes you next. He's a spry boy and is able to get a few hits in before you get your own in, but he doesn’t fall or stumble like Erik had. Instead he pulls his own knife from his boot

“I don’t want to hurt you” you stress, “I’m just protecting them”

“Yeah? And who protected my father? They deserve whatever fate happens upon them!”

It's clear he's lost to his rage and you nod solemnly, “Then so do you”

Erik tries to intervene by lunging at you, but you quickly sidestep and get him in a chokehold with your free arm while your other points your knife at Charlie. As you grapple with the two of them, Phil and Stu grab the net and start to pull the women further away from you and towards the treeline. They're putting up too much of a fight however and so the men don’t get far. This pisses them off and they decide to separate the two. You're too busy to notice until Nat lets out a yell

“Get your hands off her!”

You glance over to see Stu grabing a fistfull of Wandas hair as he attempts to pull her away from the older mermaid. You can see that Nats held back from doing anything to stop it by Phil holding his cutlass up to her sternum. Rage fills you and you no longer care about harming an unarmed man. You thrust your blade into Eriks chest and he lets out a strangled gasp. You pull the blade free and shove him aside, reading yourself for Charlie. The young boy's gaze falls upon his older friend who now gasps for air and clutches at his white shirt that quickly spreads with blood as he mindlessly stumbles away from you.

Charlie wipes a few of his tears as he looks back at you with a sneer, “I’ll kill you for that”

“You’ll try”

He runs at you with his knife raised, unintentionally leaving himself open for you. Your free hand grabs his wrist to stop his blade as yours punctures his sternum. His eyes widen and his chin quivers as a drop of blood drips down his chin

“I’m sorry kid. You’ll be with your father soon.” You doubt the words are any comfort to him, but it makes you feel a bit better as you wrench your knife free of his body

You quickly turn on your heel to see that Stu has fully removed Wanda from the net and still has her by the hair. His back is to you though, and Phil is struggling to wrap the net back around Natasha, and so you have an advantage.

You go running towards them and tackle the man. His knife slips from his hand as does your knife from yours, and the three of you tumble down to the sand. He lets go of the younger mermaids hair to twist himself around and the two of you struggle for control of the other

“Wanda, go!” you shout as you shove the man's face into the sand, “Get to the water!”

“But Natasha!” she stresses, turning to look at the other woman only to see the other man now coming towards her

“I’ll get her!” you promise

“Go!” Nat adds, “Now!”

Wanda listens and turns over on her belly and starts to slide herself towards the water. Just as she gets out of reach Stu elbows you in the face, it's hard enough that you can feel blood start to drip as your face meets the sand. Stu grunts as his hands wrap around your throat

“I swear if you hurt that boy, I’ll-”

His threat is cut out as your vision starts to go black and your ears start to ring. But you're still with it enough to see Phil go to move past you both, heading to grab Wanda. You can’t let that happen so you kick out with your legs. Thankfully one of them hits Phil in his knee and he stumbles in the opposite direction. It's enough of a distraction that Stus' grip on you lightens and you use that to your advantage.

You feel around in the sand until you find a nice sizable rock and you swing your arm powerfully. The rock hit Stu hard and he falls over in a heap. You wiggle free from under him just in time to see Wanda slip into the water, and you let out a sigh of relief. Phils gaze goes to you then to Stu, whose blood is soaking into the sand beneath his head

“What have you done?”

“What I had to” you answer

“You killed your own crewmates!” he shouts, grabbing his cutlass

You stand and grab yours “I’d do it again if it meant keeping them safe”

As your sword clashes with his Natasha looks out to the water. She can’t help but smile when she sees how far out Wanda is, but when she hears the sound of your sword meeting his, her heart sinks. You've done everything you can to keep her and Wanda safe, you've killed your own friends for them. But your weakened after so much, and she's worried you may yet get injured

Despite her worry she can't just sit here, so she starts to wiggle some more, hoping that the net will have mercy and release her. But then she sees it, your knife glinting in the sand within reach. She shimmies over and reaches out, carefully grabbing the blade and pulling it towards her until the handle is close enough. She wastes no time and starts slicing away at the nets that hold her

You've managed to slice Phils leg but he's also managed to slice your arm. The two of you had always been the best with the sword, hence why you were the only on the fishing vessels crew that carried them, but this worked against you now.

“I’m going to take great pleasure in killing you in front of them”

You barely manage to parry his blade in time and you stumble backwards a bit. This seems to amuse him and thinking he has the upper hand he begins to circle you. You mirror his movements and work on catching your breath as he tries to intimidate you. He lunges, but it's more show than it is fight and you manage to slice his hand. He shouts in pain as he drops his sword and he looks at you with pure dred as you lunge.

“Don’t-” but your blade goes right through his heart, stopping whatever he might say

You let it stay lodged there and move to help Nat, who you can see has worked herself partially free, “You okay?”

Relief washes over her features, “Yes, are you?”

“I’ll be fine, small wounds that will heal” you tell her, kneeling down to pull her tail free from the net, “There we go.”

But just then Nat sees movement behind you. She doesn’t have time to warn you however and suddenly there's a pain in your side, “Y/n!”

“I told you I’d kill you if you hurt that boy” You can feel the blood drip from Stus head and onto you as he twists his blade into your ribs

“Ahgh!” you gasp as the pain sets in and you can feel the air leaving your lungs as he pulls the knife free

You fall and try to scramble away from him, and just as he goes to grab you again he lets out a scream. You look up to see your knife, which Nat had still been holding, is now lodged in his chest. You smile, damn proud of her, but just as his body hits the sand, yours does too

“No!” she shouts, sliding over to your side. She places a hand under your head as the other puts pressure on the wound, “Dorogoy(darling)?”

“Nice throw” you grunt as her face comes into view. You hate that you're the cause of the tears in her beautiful eyes, “Don’t cry”

“This is my fault” she whimpers, “This is all my fault. If I had stayed away like Wanda said we should”

“Hey, hey, don’t do that” you tell her, “Don’t blame yourself”

You're now aware of another presence on your other side and glance over to see Wanda. The brunette looks just as upset as the redhead that's holding you and your heart crumbles further

“Milaya(sweetheart), you saved us”

You relax into her hand as she cups your cheek, “Id do anything for the two of you”

A cough tears its way through you then, and to their horror blood comes up and drips from the corner of your mouth

“No, no please” Nat begs, pressing harder on your side

You let out a hiss in pain, “It's okay…”

“No! No it isn't!” Nat stresses, “I’m not ready to let you go”

“I’m not either” Wanda adds

Nat quickly looks to the brunette, “Can you heal her?”

“I- I don’t know. Agatha only just taught me healing magic” she explains

“You've got to try, otherwise…”

Wanda nods, “I’ll try my best”

She puts her hand over Nats on your wound and lets the redhead pull away so that she is the one now putting pressure on you, and she does her best to focus on closing up the stab. But to her frustration nothing happens. She keeps her hand in place however and keeps trying, willing everything in her to just focus and heal you but still nothing happens

A wave of anger overtakes her and she can’t help but lash out at the universe, “Enough has been taken from me, I will not lose her! She belongs with us!”

A sudden rush of red energy surges out of her and into you, taking all three of you by surprise. Nat had seen Wanda's magic before but it had been small red sparks or a small flame like wave, nothing as large as this. And it certainly never made the brunette lean over in apparent exhaustion like she is now currently doing

“You okay?” Natasha asks, reaching out to steady her. She nods in confirmation

Natasha's attention moves back to you then, and for a moment she fears the worst. Though your wound appears to be closed now your eyes are now too and you lay completely motionless, it doesn’t even look like you're breathing. She feels her own breath catch in her throat as she lays a hand on your chest

“Y/n?” she calls out, barely above a whisper as she gently shakes you

Your eyes snap open and you take a deep breath, “Holy shit”

You try to sit up and the redhead moves to help you. Its then that she notices a change in you, something new and very familiar to her but foreign to you is now along your neck

“It worked?” Wanda asked in disbelief

“It more than worked” Nat replies, a few tears building in her eyes, “Look”

Wanda looks to where Nat is pointing to see that you now have a pair of gills, just like theirs. Somehow in her anger fueled magical outburst she had not only made sure to keep you alive but had also made you more like them

“What's wrong?”

They both shake their heads but its only Wanda that finds her words, “You can come home with us”

“What?” you ask again, even more confused now, “What do you mean?”

Nat grabs one of your hands and brings it to your neck and your eyes widen in realization, “See, we don’t have to be apart anymore. You can come home with us”

“That sounds perfect” you admit, smiling at both women softly

“You aren’t mad then?” Wanda asks, worried you’d be upset that she made such a massive change

You shake your head, “Of course I’m not. This is great, if we can actually be together now that is. I’m not sure how accepting your kind will be of my legs”

Both women smile at you and Nat cups your face, “You’ll be a little different than everyone else, but you’ll be with us. That's all I care about. If anyone makes a fuss about your differences, Wanda and I will deal with them”

“Damn right we will”

You laugh, “Let's go home then”

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69 @when-wolves-howl @danveration @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories@imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastorm @zoomdeathknight @aeroae @sashawalker2

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x reader #wandanat x y/n #wandanat #wandanat x reader #wanda x natasha #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel #fanfic

404 notes · View notes

d-z20 · 1 day ago

Text

The Agent Next Door (18+, NSFW)

Pairing: Agent Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You don't really talk to your (extremely attractive) neighbour, Rio Vidal, until one day an accident leads to you staying at her apartment for a couple of days. And an awkward encounter results in having your fantasy come true. -OR- Rio finds you injured after you slipped and fell out the shower and decides to look after you (non-magic AU)

Warnings: Blood, small injury, fluff, smut, fingering (R receiving), oral (R receiving)

Words: 3.4k

A/N: Just wanted to write a bit of Rio caring for reader and well then it turned into smut and I have no regrets. Also I have their whole relationship arc in my head now lol

Read it on AO3

Rio Vidal is your neighbour. You've noticed her plenty of times before—a striking woman with a sharp, confident look that's hard to ignore. You live in the same apartment building, just across the hall from one another. Most days, your interactions are limited to polite smiles and brief chats in the elevator, her dark suit and badge often catching your eye. You've heard her phone buzz with work calls that end with her curt, professional voice. It's obvious she's someone important—serious and dedicated. You've pieced together that she's an FBI agent, but beyond that, you don't know much about her.

You can't deny that you're drawn to her, though. There's something about the way she carries herself—all self-assured and enigmatic. You've caught yourself staring a few times, your heart skipping a beat when she looks back and flashes a rare, amused smile. It's not just her looks—it's the way she moves, the air of mystery she carries, like she's seen things you could only imagine. It makes you nervous, but at the same time, you can't help but look forward to those fleeting moments when your paths cross.

One morning, your shower decides to betray you—your hot water cuts out just as you put your head under. You let out a bloodcurdling scream, quickly trying to jump out of the shower. Unfortunately for you, your foot slips on the hard floor, and you come crashing down, hitting your head on the sink, landing with a very loud thud. Dazed and confused, you are unsure if you passed out for a second there or not, but either way your head is killing you.

"Fucking brilliant," you mutter to yourself, draping an arm across your eyes to shield them from the light.

At that moment, you heard your front door slamming open and hurried footsteps searching your apartment. You had just about enough sense to yank your towel off the hook and cover up your naked body.

"Y/N?" called a voice just outside the bathroom door.

Shit. It was Rio. You wished the ground would just swallow you up.

"Are you okay? I heard you scream, and then I heard something shatter." You could hear the genuine concern in her voice.

Lifting your head slightly, you noticed the shards of glass from what used to be your bathroom shelf, surrounding you. All you could do was let out a groan and close your eyes at this new development of what was turning out to be the worst morning of your life so far.

This was a bad choice, as a split second later, Rio barged into your bathroom.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Your neighbour teased, but you could hear the relief in her voice. She moved further into the room, assessing the damage. "Not to ruin such a perfect morning for you, but I might have broken your door getting in here."

You open your eyes, blinking up at her. Taking her in, you noticed she was wearing a cropped baggy tank top and gym shorts. You blink up at her again, and your head throbs with each beat of your pulse, the pain radiating down your neck. You're still dazed, trying to process how you ended up sprawled on the cold bathroom floor with your FBI agent neighbour standing over you. Rio's sharp eyes take in your silence, concern clouding the playful smirk she'd worn just moments before.

"Hey," she says, voice softer now, as she crouches down beside you. She reaches out, fingertips gently brushing your cheek to turn your face towards her. "Y/N, can you hear me? Do you know who I am?"

You swallow, trying to focus. Her touch is surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to her usual no-nonsense demeanour. You nod slightly, the movement making your head spin. "Rio," you manage to croak out. "Neighbour, FBI agent. And, apparently, a door kicker."

She huffs a laugh, a brief flicker of relief crossing her face. "Good. That's a start. I don't usually make a habit of barging into people's bathrooms uninvited, but I heard that scream, and... well, I'm glad I did." Her eyes drop down to your arm, where blood seeps from a jagged cut. She curses under her breath, her grip on your shoulder tightening just slightly. "You're bleeding. We need to get you cleaned up."

You glance down at your arm, wincing at the sight of blood trickling down to your hand. "I really know how to make an impression, huh?"

Rio shakes her head, lips pressed together in a tight line. "Let's save the jokes until you're not covered in glass, yeah?" Without another word, she slips an arm under your shoulders, helping you sit up. The world tilts slightly, but her hold on you is firm, steadying you as you get your bearings.

"You're going to have to trust me for a minute," she tells you softly. "Can you stand?"

"Maybe," you say, though you're not entirely sure. She helps you up, careful not to jostle your injured arm, and you try to ignore the heat of her skin against yours, the way her fingers dig into your side just enough to ground you.

Rio's eyes dart around the room, quickly assessing the mess of broken glass and water pooling on the floor. "Alright," she says decisively. "I'm taking you back to my place. We'll patch you up there. Your shower is out of commission, and I don't trust that you won't take another tumble if I leave you alone here."

You don't have the energy to argue, so you just nod, letting her guide you out of the bathroom. The two of you make it to the hallway, but not before she grabs a spare towel and wraps it around you more securely. Her movements are quick and efficient, but there's a gentleness to them that surprises you. It's a side of Rio you've never seen before—one that's patient and caring, not just the tough, sarcastic woman you've exchanged pleasantries with in passing.

As you step into her apartment, you notice it's much more personal than you'd imagined. There are framed photos on the walls—nothing too sentimental, mostly candid shots of places she's travelled to, city skylines, and sunsets. Her living room is cosy, with a worn leather couch and a small stack of books piled on the coffee table.

"Sit," she instructs, pointing to the couch. You sink down into it, feeling strangely out of place but oddly comfortable. Rio disappears into the bathroom for a moment, returning with a first aid kit. She kneels in front of you, carefully prying your hand away from your arm.

"This is going to sting," she warns, pulling out an antiseptic wipe. You flinch as she cleans the cut, her brows knitting together in concentration. "Sorry," she mutters. "I'm used to dealing with criminals and suspects, not clumsy neighbours."

"Criminals don't trip in the shower much?" you quip, trying for humour despite the pain. It earns you a small smile from Rio, her eyes flicking up to meet yours.

"Not usually, no. Though I'll admit you're far more entertaining." Her voice softens again, the smirk fading as she wraps a bandage around your arm. "You scared me for a second there, you know."

The confession catches you off guard. "I did? you ask, watching her face as she finishes tying off the bandage.

She doesn't look up, her focus still on your arm. "Yeah," she says quietly. "I thought something bad had happened. Guess I care more about my neighbour than I realised."

Your heart skips a beat, the words hanging in the air between you. It's the first real admission of anything beyond casual friendliness, and it leaves you breathless. You're about to say something—anything—but Rio stands up, offering her hand to you.

"Come on," she says. "Let's get you some proper clothes and maybe a coffee. You can stay here until we sort out your door and shower."

Rio's grip on your hand is firm as she helps you up, her expression still hovering somewhere between concern and her usual, dry amusement. You follow her into the kitchen, and she releases you, motioning for you to sit at the table. It feels strange being here, in her space, especially after the chaos of your morning. She pulls out a chair for you with a slight roll of her eyes, as if it's absurd that you'd even try to resist her instruction.

"I don't have any shifts for the next two days," she announces, moving towards the coffee maker without glancing back at you. "And considering you might've blacked out for a second back there, I'm not letting you out of my sight. So, you're staying with me, here, until you're back on your feet properly."

You open your mouth to argue, but the look she throws over her shoulder silences you. It's one part worry and two parts something else—something softer, almost protective.

"I can manage," you say, but your voice lacks conviction, especially as you rub your throbbing arm. The bandage is already starting to bleed through a bit. Rio's eyes narrow at the sight, and she steps closer, prodding your arm gently.

"Yeah, you're doing a great job," she says dryly, then nods to herself. "You're staying here."

"Fine," you sigh, though part of you feels a flutter of something—relief, maybe, or the thrill of being looked after by someone like Rio. "But I can sleep on the couch. I don't want to kick you out of your bed."

Rio's lips twitch into a smirk. "I'm not letting you take the couch. You've already proven that you're a danger to yourself in any situation that involves standing up."

You can't help but laugh, despite everything. "So, what, we share your bed?"

She raises an eyebrow, as if daring you to challenge her. "It's a queen size. I think we can manage. Unless you've suddenly developed a fear of co-sleeping?"

The thought of sharing a bed with her sends a rush of heat through you, but you try to play it off with a shrug. "As long as you don't hog the covers."

"I'll do my best," she says, the smirk widening.

The first night is awkward, as expected. You lie stiffly on one side of the bed, while Rio takes the other, the space between you feeling like a chasm despite the closeness. She's warm though, and you can feel the heat radiating from her body and the subtle scent of her shampoo filling your senses. It's both comforting and maddening, making it hard to fall asleep. Your hyper-aware of every shift she makes, every time her arm brushes against yours. At some point, she turns onto her side, facing you, and you feel her eyes on you in the dark.

"You still awake?" she whispers.

"Yeah," you reply, swallowing hard.

There's a pause, then you feel her hand brush against yours. It's light, almost as if by accident, but when you don't pull away, she leaves it there, her fingers barely touching yours.

"Try to get some sleep," she murmurs. "You need to rest."

"Alright," you say, voice hoarse, and somehow, with her so close, you finally drift off.

Over the next day and a half, the tension between you shifts, It's subtle at first—small, lingering glances from Rio that last a bit too long, the brush of her fingers against your back when she helps you into the kitchen. Her sarcasm returns, but there's a flirtatious edge to it now, like she's testing the waters.

"You're really milking this injury, aren't you?" She teases, handing you your drink to have with the pizza she bought for dinner. "You'd think you broke your entire body, the way you're lounging around."

"Hey," you protest, setting the drink down. "You're the one who insisted I stay. Don't blame me for enjoying the hospitality."

She leans against the counter, arms crossed, a grin tugging at her lips. "Oh, I'm well aware. But don't get too comfortable with me waiting on you hand and foot—I've got to go back to work tomorrow.

That night, the atmosphere between you shifts even more. When you climb into bed besides Rio, there's no hesitation this time. She turns towards you almost immediately, her hand resting lightly on your hip as if it's the most natural thing in the world. You can feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of your shirt, her breath warm against the back of your neck. It's a small touch, nothing too bold, but it feels significant—an unspoken acknowledgement of everything simmering between you two. You fall asleep like that, closer than before, your fingers unconsciously brushing hers under the covers.

When you wake up, she's already dressed for the day, leaning over you with a mug of coffee in hand. She sets it down on the nightstand with a playful smile. "Morning sweetheart," she says, her voice laced with that familiar teasing tone, but there's a softness to it now. "Try not to do anything risky while I'm gone, yeah? I don't want to come back to find you've taken a tumble without me here to save the day."

You laugh, reaching for the coffee, but there's a flutter in your chest at the pet name, even if she means it jokingly. "I'll do my best," you say. "But no promises."

She smirks, leaning down just enough to press a light kiss to your forehead. "Good. I'll be back later. Make yourself at home."

You do. The rest of the day passes in a strangely pleasant haze, and you find yourself enjoying the small comforts of her apartment. It's quiet without her, but there's a sense of ease you haven't felt in a long time, like you truly belong here. You find yourself smiling for no reason, touching the small trinkets on her shelves, running your fingers over the soft throw blankets she has draped across the couch.

By the time you decide to take a shower, you're feeling entirely too content. You strip down, stepping under the hot spray with a sigh. That's when your thoughts drift back to Rio—how she looked last night, half-asleep and tousled, her arm draped over your waist, her expression unguarded in a way you'd never seen before.

Your thoughts turn to fantasy almost unbidden. You imagine her joining you in the shower, pressing you back against the cold tiles, her hands sliding down your wet skin. You can almost feel it—the heat of her breath on your neck, the firmness of her body against yours. You start to move your hand towards your aching clit, letting out a quiet, shuddering moan, lost in the fantasy of what it would be like to kiss her and have her hands on you.

You don't hear the bathroom door open, but suddenly, you hear her voice—low and amused. "You sure you're okay in here? Didn't have another fall, did you?"

You freeze, eyes snapping open. You can barely see her through the steam, but she's there, standing just outside the shower curtain, and you realise with a jolt that she must have heard you. You heart slams against your ribs as the curtain slides back just a little, and Rio steps inside completely naked, her smirk evident even through the haze.

"I really just can't trust you not to injure yourself while showering, can I?" she says, voice teasing but thick with something else—desire, maybe. Her eyes travel down your body, lingering in a way that sends a shiver through you.

"Rio," you breathe out, half a warning, half a plea.

She steps closer, crowding you against the wall, her hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. "You know," she murmurs, her lips so close to yours now that you can feel the brush of them with every word. "I think you've been waiting for me to do this."

And then she kisses you, slow and heated, like she's been thinking about this just as much as you have. Her mouth is soft but insistent, coaxing a response from you until you melt into her, hands tangling in her hair as you kiss her back just as eagerly. The steam from the shower mixes with the heat between you, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.

When she finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, her forehead resting against yours. "I knew it," she whispers, her voice laced with satisfaction. "You've been wanting this so badly, haven't you?"

You nod, swallowing thickly. "Yeah," you admit, barely louder than a whisper. "I have."

She grins, tugging you closer until you're pressed against her, chest to chest. "Good," she says, leaning in to kiss you again, deeper this time. "Because I've been wanting it too."

And with that, she shoves you against the wall. Hard. She's kissing you all over, igniting the skin where each one lands. She nips and sucks at your neck, finding where you're most sensitive. A moan escapes your lips, and you buck your hips, trying to get any kind of friction against your core. For a brief moment, you start to get embarrassed, but then one of Rio's hands finds its way between your legs. She dips a finger between your lips and hums at how wet you already are for her.

Looking directly into your eyes, silently telling you to keep her gaze, she lowers herself to suck on one of your tits, tongue swirling around your nipple, making it harden quickly. The hand not on your clit, starts to pinch your other nipple, pulling another loud guttural moan from you.

Working her mouth down your torso, marking up your body as she goes, Rio sinks to her knees, her face now directly opposite your dripping cunt, eyes still locked on yours.

Her hands deftly grip your hips, steadying you against the wall. "You've got to promise me you're not going to fall again, sweetheart," she all but growls, the arousal evident in her voice.

You nod your head, but it wasn't enough for the woman, who digs her nails into your skin where she's holding you. "Ye-Yes. I promise."

That was all Rio needs before she starts to drag her tongue through your folds. Switching between broad licks along the length between your entrance and your clit, and firmer, more purposeful circles over your bundle of nerves.

You feel dizzy, but you know it has nothing to do with your concussion and everything to do with the woman kneeling between your legs. Despite your head spinning, you manage to bring your hands down to tangle in Rio's hair, pushing her harder into you. You need more.

She moans against you, clearly enjoying how turned on you are. The vibration from the moan goes straight to your core, and you nearly cum just from that. Sensing you're close, Rio pushes two fingers inside you, causing you to curse her name inbetween moans.

You feel her chuckle and then start fucking you more vigorously. "I want to hear you, baby. I want the whole floor to hear you moan my name," she says, momentarily pulling away from your pussy. You can't help but oblige as she starts to curl her fingers, resuming her licking and sucking.

With her fingers curling inside you like that, it isn't long before you climax, legs shaking, coming hard over her fingers and tongue. Rio helps you through the end of your orgasm, making sure to hold you up as you come back down.

"Okay, darling, I think we need to sit you down before you lose another fight with gravity," Rio smirks. You can't help but agree; your knees feel very weak and it's taking all of your concentration to stay upright.

"Oh, by the way, I bumped into the maintenance guys on my way in," Rio says lightly, helping you out of the shower. "And they said that your door isn't getting fixed for at least another week. So, it looks like you'll have me to help you shower for a little while longer." Winking, she drags you to her bed, determined to continue what she had just started

#agatha all along #rio vidal #rio vidal x reader #rio x reader #rio vidal smut #rio vidal fluff #rio x reader smut #rio vidal x reader smut #rio x reader fluff #agatha all along fanfic #rio vidal fic #rio vidal fanfic #aubrey plaza character #alternate universe #marvel #mcu #rio vidal x you #rio x you

323 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 1 day ago

Note

jilly x reader where the reader gets hypothermia

cw: symptoms of mild hypothermia, (implied?) freezing water, non-sexual nudity

poly!Jily x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

James half carries you back to the cabin. This is partly because you’re shivering too hard to walk as quickly as you’d like, and partly because your legs simply won’t move the way you tell them to. Your wet lashes feel heavy with the ice crystals you imagine forming on them.

He passes you off to Lily while he unlocks the front door. She rubs one hand uselessly over your arm through your soaked coat, using the other to unstick a frigid piece of hair from your face.

They both help you inside. Set you down on the couch, and James makes a sound close to a laugh when you protest about getting wet on his mother’s cushions.

“Start a fire, please?” Lily is all business, panic making her stern. Or maybe not stern so much as resolved. Her features are set, green eyes alternating between worried and determined, but her hands are characteristically gentle as they unzip your coat and pull you out of it one arm at a time.

“Love?”

You realize she’s been talking to you. “Hm?”

Delicate brows pinch in either concern or relief. “How do you feel, sweetheart?”

“Oh. Um.” Your chittering makes your words come out jolting and stilted. “Cold.”

“Tired?” she asks. You put your arms up when she motions for you to, letting her lift your jumper over your head. The thought that you’re the only one getting undressed between your partners doesn’t occur to you; you only know that Lily seems urgent, and you trust her.

“Ye—yeah.”

“I think we have an electric blanket around here somewhere,” says James. He’s poking at a log in the fireplace, trying to provoke a bigger flame. “Get her closer to here, love.”

“I’m still trying to get her out of her wet clothes. Can you help me?”

James helps you to stand so Lily can tug your trousers off. They stick to your legs but crinkle oddly, stiff with ice. James kisses your temple and murmurs something you can’t quite make out. You feel guilty for ruining what was meant to be a fun afternoon of ice skating on the pond near James’ family cabin. You’ve never heard Lily shout like she did when the ice broke beneath you.

They wrap you up in an electric blanket and put your hair up in a towel to get it off your neck, and you let James massage warmth into your fingers while Lily makes something warm for you to drink.

“Jamie,” she calls from the kitchen, “do you all keep a thermometer here?”

“Um, I’m not sure,” replies James. “If we did, it’d be in one of the drawers in the bathroom.”

You hear your girlfriend whizz off in that direction.

“How are you, angel?” James presses a couple of firm, warm kisses to your face, squeezing your hands. “Do you still feel tired?”

“A little,” you admit. Your shivering has lessened, though. “Is it okay that we left our skates by the pond?”

“What?” He gives a little laugh. “Yeah, it’s fine. That’s not really the top concern right now, you know?”

You frown. It’s supposed to snow again tonight. “I don’t want them to get buried…”

“I’ll go get them later,” James reassures you. He kisses your nose. “Don’t worry about that, lovebug. Just try to get warm, okay?”

“I sort of feel like you guys are doing all the work for me.”

James’ laughs as Lily comes to sit beside you.

“Here, can you keep this in your mouth for me, please?” You nod, but when she slips the thermometer under your tongue she evidently makes a last-minute call to hold it herself instead. Lily’s thumb drags heavily over your cheek. You notice her bottom lip looks colored and bitten.

“I think I’m okay…” you try to tell her, but stop when she shushes you gently.

“That’s good, lovely, but don’t talk with this in your mouth.” She gives you a terse smile.

James transfers both of your hands to one of his, using the other to squeeze her elbow consolingly. Both of your partners watch you intently as you wait.

When Lily deems it's been long enough and looks at the thermometer, her posture slumps with relief.

“Oh, it’s—that’s not so bad.”

James grins, reading over her shoulder. “It must be coming up,” he says confidently.

You offer your girlfriend a smile. “I told you, I think I’m fine.”

Lily makes a soft, strangled sound, eyebrows pinching in the moment before she throws her arms around you. You see some of your own surprise reflected in James’ expression as you catch her, bringing her into the heated dome of your electric blanket with you.

“I didn’t know…I was really scared,” she confesses tearily, squeezing you around your neck.

You rub her back in an attempt to reassure her. Behind her, James is doing the same. He gets his arms around the both of you, holding your shoulders through the blanket.

“It’s alright,” he says. “We must be doing something right, yeah? Or she wouldn’t be getting better so quickly.”

Lily exhales a shaky breath. “I am never, ever going ice skating again.”

“Yes, you are,” you tell her fondly.

“No. And you shouldn’t either! In fact, I hope our skates do get buried, and neither of you can ever find them.”

You make a sound of protest, but James speaks over you, “Alright, lovely. We can let nature roll the dice tonight, if that’s what you want.”

“But James—”

“Angel, you weren’t witness to your own blue lips,” he tells you, rubbing your shoulder pacifyingly. “I think we’re permitted a bit of overreaction right now. I say bury the skates.”

You give a little laugh. “You’re both taking this too far. We don’t have to use them, but there’s no reason to leave perfectly good skates out there in the snow.”

“Mm, let’s say we return to that debate when you’re no longer shivering.”

You all sit there for a while, holding each other while the fire crackles and warmth seeps into your fingertips. Lily’s hands are actually quite cold around your neck, but you refuse to tell her lest she spring away from you. When the kettle starts to whistle, she sniffs and pulls away anyways, wiping under her eyes.

“I’ve got it,” says James, standing with a kiss to each of your heads. “What are we having?”

“Hot chocolate.” She takes a breath, collecting herself. “She needs something with sugar. Thanks, Jamie.”

You smile at her. “You’re so brilliant. How do you know that?”

Lily’s lips tilt slightly in response. “I read it somewhere.”

“So brilliant,” you repeat, kissing her softly on the lips. They’re noticeably warmer than yours, but you feel much more yourself than you had when you first got back to the cabin. “Thanks for helping me.”

She makes a scoffing sort of noise. It doesn’t sound terribly derisive when it’s bent by fondness like this. Lily touches the backs of her fingers to your cheek, caressing. “You don’t have to thank us. Either of us,” she says. The tears have cleared from her eyes, leaving a raw caring in their wake. “We love you. A lot.”

Your heart feels more than sufficiently warmed as you close the gap between you again. “I love you a lot, too.”

339 notes · View notes

inkedinshadows · 2 days ago

Text

A Place Called Home

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Summary: Follow Azriel as he recalls all the places where he's lived but never belonged, until he finds the one where he finally does.

Warnings: a bit of Inner Circle slander, I guess? But not really tbh. Mentions of wing clipping

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: I don't know what I think of this one tbh. It's not exactly what I had in mind, but I've made my peace with it. @azrielappreciationweek

Azriel had never belonged in his father's mansion. He never once believed he did. But he didn't belong in Illyria, either.

Though he was Illyrian, he always disapproved of their backward traditions, especially regarding females.

He had seen how his mother was treated; he knew what had happened to Cassian’s, and too many times during his training in Windhaven, he had to witness brutal clippings without being able to stop them.

How could he belong in such a place? A place where females were treated as little more than objects and breeding mares, where children were taught to fight as soon as they could walk and left to care for themselves in the mud and cold?

He had done horrible things—most of which to protect his family and court—and they still haunted him in his sleep at times. But he liked to think that he was at least better than the Illyrian brutes he had grown up among. That there were certain lines even he wouldn't cross.

Illyria was a beautiful land, with its snow-capped mountains and frozen lakes. It could be merciless and harsh, but that was nature. Its inhabitants, however, chose to be that way, and Azriel had long since lost faith in any change.

~~~~~~

He didn't belong in Rosehall, either.

He was always welcome there and visited as often as he could, but that was his mother’s house. He had bought it for her as soon as he had enough money.

It was her safe place, her haven, where she didn't have to worry about anything and where she wasn't anyone's servant. Azriel remembered the tears shining in her eyes the first time he brought her there, when the house was still empty and cold.

It had taken him a long time to convince her that she didn't need to worry about money. He worked directly for the High Lord now, and he was paid well enough for her to furnish the house however she liked.

She had still tried not to spend too much, but she had chosen each piece of furniture and decoration with attentive care. It was the first time she had a place she could call her own after centuries of living, and Azriel liked what she had done with it. The place was simple yet elegant, with cream-colored walls and wooden furniture. Colorful flowers bloomed on the windowsills, and paintings hung in the hallway and the living room. She had even made sure to have a bedroom for him, so he could stay as long as he wished.

But Azriel's favorite part of Rosehall was probably the delicious smell of food wafting through the rooms. Now that she no longer had to cook for domineering males, she had rediscovered her passion for cooking. Whether it was spices, freshly baked bread, or roasted meat, the smell never failed to make his mouth water.

Yes, Azriel enjoyed his time in Rosehall and tried to visit as often as he could, but it was still his mother’s house—not his.

~~~~~~

He belonged in the Inner Circle, he guessed. Though sometimes he felt like he didn't.

Azriel cared about Amren; after all, he had known her for centuries. But it was still Amren. How many times had it been just the two of them, spending time like normal friends? Once, maybe twice, and even then, their conversations had mostly revolved around Court matters. Sometimes he wondered if they would have ever approached each other at all if it hadn't been for Rhys bringing them together.

And then there was Mor. He had spent centuries quietly loving her, longing for something he could never have. He had long since stopped believing that her concerned glances and gentle touches meant anything beyond deep affection—sisterly affection. Yet he'd held on to those feelings even when they started to fade, because he had never known anything different. It was a twisted form of both protection and punishment: if he still loved her, then he wouldn't risk his heart being broken by another rejection. Yet knowing Mor would never feel the same, that she had her own lovers and relationships, was like being stabbed in the chest. He wasn't sure when it started to hurt a little less each time he thought about it.

With that pain easing, the resentment he'd carried buried deep down for most of his life began to fade as well. He never once held it against Cassian. He knew it wasn't his fault Mor had chosen him. Who would have chosen Azriel anyway? He wished things were different, but he didn't blame either of them. It still chafed, though. It was something he couldn't shake, like a shadow lingered on the edges of his heart, and it resurfaced whenever he saw Mor and Cassian together.

And his brother… Azriel loved him deeply, and he was grateful to have him in his life. But there was no denying how different they were, and sometimes it felt as if Cassian didn't really understand him. There was a rage inside Azriel, rarely rising to the surface but it was there, born the moment he'd seen his mother's fear in the presence of his father. That rage never left. It grew until Azriel had to learn how to contain it, to live with it, for the sake of the people around him and his own.

Cassian never really understood it. Rhys did, though. Azriel knew that if he pushed, Rhysand would match him. Yet his brother still tried to thaw and tame that icy rage he had grown so accustomed to, which was probably an honorable aim—if Azriel hadn't lived with it so long that he wasn't sure who he would be without it.

He loved his family deeply, and he knew they loved him back. But they didn't always understand him, and he often felt out of place among them.

~~~~~~

Velaris was his home, and he'd do anything to protect it. He tortured and killed for that very reason many times. But at the end of the day, the City of Starlight was just that—a city. No matter how beautiful or welcoming, it was too vast a place to call home.

He had never bothered buying an apartment or a town house for himself. Maybe he should have. But the House of Wind had always been enough, with its views and endless rooms. It was practical living there—there was the training ring, the hall where Rhys held court, and the library for when he wanted some quiet.

But the House of Wind belonged to Rhys. Now that he had given it as a mating present to Nesta and Cassian, it was theirs. They assured him he could still live there, that his room would always be his, but Azriel had preferred to move out. He had no interest in living there during their mating frenzy.

The townhouse and the river house belonged, once again, to Rhys and Feyre. They never made him feel like he owed them anything for staying there—Elain lived there too, after all—but Azriel longed for a place he could call his own. Yet the idea of buying an apartment had still felt too definitive. He had tried, but none of the places he'd seen made him want to own them.

He had almost given up hope of finding a place he could call home, but then he met you. And he realized, after five hundred years, that maybe home wasn't a place at all.

“Az?”

Your voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present, to the feel of you in his arms and your big eyes staring up at him.

“Baby, are you listening to me?”

Azriel blinked, slightly shaking his head to chase away the remnants of his past. He looked down at you, and his heart fluttered at the love shining in your eyes.

“Hi,” you said with a soft smile. Your hand came up to cup his face, the touch warm and familiar. “I lost you. Where did you go?”

“Sorry,” he breathed. “I was just thinking.”

You waited patiently, giving him the freedom to continue or return to your conversion. Embarrassment flooded Azriel as he realized he couldn't remember what you were talking about.

He held you imperceptibly tighter, trying to find the right words to convey what he felt.

“I never felt like I fit in anywhere,” he said eventually. His voice was quiet even in the silence of the room, and he struggled to keep his eyes open when all he wanted to do was lean into your touch. “I've been looking for where I belong for centuries.”

It came easy to voice those thoughts to you. You never judged. You listened, and then you gave your opinion or simply shared your own thoughts. You saw all of him, and you didn't run from it. You accepted him. You loved him.

Sometimes, Azriel still wondered if it was all a dream or if you were really a part of his life.

“And have you found it?” you murmured, your thumb brushing his cheek just below his eye.

Azriel nodded. “I found it.” He took your hand, gently removing it from his face to bring it closer to his mouth. He pressed a tender kiss to your palm, his lips lingering on your skin before he repeated the gesture with your fingertips. Your smile was soft as he murmured, “I found you.”

Your eyes, which had been following the movements of his lips, shot up to meet his. Even after a year together, he was still mesmerized by how you always wore your heart on your sleeve. It was so easy to read you, and right now, blended with your unconditional love, he could see curiosity and amusement playing on your features.

“Me?” you repeated, your voice a murmur.

Azriel nodded once more, letting go of your hand only to bring his own up to your cheek. “Yes, you, my love.” He rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he breathed in your scent. “It doesn’t matter where we are. You’re where I belong. You’re my home.”

Wherever you went, he would follow. If you woke up one day and told him you wanted to move to the Spring Court, or even to Vallahan far east on the continent, he would go with you. He would go with you to the end of the world if you asked.

He could feel your heart beating faster in your chest, and a playful smile appeared on your lips as you pulled back to look into his eyes. “So… is this the right moment to tell you that I wanted to ask you to move in?”

Azriel stared at you, eyes wide, a huge grin slowly spreading across his face. His arms tightened around you, and then you squealed in surprise as his hands found your backside and he picked you up. The sound was quickly swallowed by his lips crashing against yours, and you could do nothing but kiss him back and wrap your legs around his waist, careful not to brush against his wings.

You were both breathing slightly faster when Azriel pulled back, but he didn’t let you go. If anything, he held you tighter, as if worried you might disappear.

“I’ll take it that’s a yes?” you chuckled. Your fingers brushed the hair on the back of his neck, his wings rustling quietly at the sensation.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Of course it’s a yes, love.”

He didn’t care if your apartment wasn’t suited for an Illyrian, if he had to carefully maneuver his wings to avoid knocking things over. He had already spent so much time at your place that he was used to it by now. The thought of staying there permanently—of waking up with you in his arms every morning, of coming back after a long day knowing you’d be there too—filled him with so much joy that his heart could burst.

You beamed, and all Azriel wanted to do was to spin you around and never let you go. And so, he did, because nothing was stopping him. He was going to share a home with his love, and nothing had ever made him this happy before.

As he spun you around, you threw your head back and laughed joyfully, the sound echoing off the walls. Azriel’s laughter joined yours when he stilled, and then you were kissing him again.

After more than five hundred years, he finally knew where he belonged. And it wasn’t a place.

It was with you.

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch

Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

289 notes · View notes

malakandmasa025 · 6 hours ago

Text

URGENT APPEAL !!!!

🍉🍉Save the life of the child Malak "who suffers from Down Syndrome"🍉🍉

Hello, my name is Doaa, and I'm reaching out on behalf of my beloved daughter Malak , who is a 3-year-old girl born with Down syndrome. Despite war hardships, Malak always had her safe haven - her home, where she received the care and attention she deserved.

However, the ongoing war in Gaza has turned our world upside down. We've been forced to flee our home, leaving behind everything, including her treasured belongings and familiar routines. As a child with Down syndrome, the upheaval and uncertainty of these drastic changes have taken a profound toll on her.

Life became very hard,prices have escalated, clean water is a dream.After displacing to the south ,and the destruction of our beloved house and the loss of all what we have ever worked for, we now live in a tent.With winter on the way,as a mum , I'm terrified on my daughter's health condition as she was born with a weak heart.No enough blankets, air is strong,cold is freezing.She is always sick.

It breaks my heart to see her struggle each day amidst the chaos of war. With medical supplies and necessities scarce in Gaza, it's become increasingly challenging to provide Malak with the care and support she needs and deserves. That's why I'm reaching out to you today.

No one knows what it truly means to face shock in complete silence,to smile in face of situations that invite tears,and no one realizes what it feels like to boil inside while standing at the peak of steadfastness.Behind this apparent strength lies a deep suffering that no one can grasp.My heart is slowly torn apart under the weight of suppressed pain.Life forces me to pretend to be strong,when apart of me fades away with each moment.I'm left with a bitter feeling of isolation and loneliness.Please don't leave my daughter alone face the struggle of the gloomy war, starvation,pollution and lack of medicine.

I'm starting this GoFundMe campaign with one simple plea: help us provide to Malak medicine and pampers.Your donations facilitate Malak's life;she can receive the medical attention and care she urgently requires Every donation, no matter how small, will make a world of difference in her life.

Please, let's come together as a community and make her life a little easier. Your kindness and generosity will not only bring hope to Malak but also provide our family with the reassurance that she is,to some extent ,safe and well-cared for. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your support and compassion during this incredibly challenging time.

https://gofund.me/79e8f40a

@@90-ghost @nabulsi @theclowninghour @wetsweatgym @creating-something-stuff @kryaaas @gazavetters @gaza-evacuation-funds @gaddisjamiu @staff @ruffffffing @wetsweatgym @teresamerandi @gazikacmislaflar @equipo @palesttino

#art #digital art #donations #marketing #my art #nail art #palestinian lives matter #donald trump #donate if you can #free gaza #gazaunderattack #@na motivation #help gaza #gaza strip #gaza genocide #palestine genocide #girlblogging #justice for palestine #palestine donation

217 notes · View notes

userautumn · 2 days ago

Text

He knows he shouldn't, but Buck texts Tommy anyway. Once Jee is covered in chocolate and cookie crumbs, once she's drifting off to sleep against his arm with Moana playing softly in the background, he pulls up their text thread with his unoccupied hand and clicks on the message bar. He ignores the grey and blue messages that sit above, messages—warm, kind, and loving—that speak to a happier time and instead chooses to type out a quick message.

Jee misses you.

He sends off the text and then pockets his phone. Slips out of Jee's sticky grasp so he can start cleaning the kitchen before it's time to put her to bed. He's so deep in thought that he almost misses the way his phone vibrates in his pocket.

What did she say?

"Uncle Tommy come play?"

Tommy doesn't respond for a while, long enough that Buck gets to imagine his face, pinched and in pain, with tears in his eyes. Or maybe Tommy's just fine. Maybe Buck is the one pinched and in pain, emotional and so damn sick of crying all the time.

I'm sorry.

Sorry to her or sorry to me?

It's not fair. Buck knows it's not as soon as he sends it, but Tommy replies seconds later anyway.

Sorry to both of you.

Buck stares at the text until his screen goes blank, trying to decide which of the emotions he's currently drowning in that he wants to feel. He settles on anger.

If you were that sorry, you wouldn't have dumped me three days after our six month anniversary.

Never mind.

This was dumb.

I shouldn't have bothered.

Sorry to have bothered you.

Bye.

Goodbye, Evan.

Buck's heart lurches into his throat at the sight of his name on screen, his eyes widening and his breath quickening. An embarrassing rush of hope stirs deep in his chest before he can clamp down on it and it feels like breathing for the first time in weeks. Another text comes through immediately after.

Sorry. It's a habit. I'm so sorry. Goodnight, Buck. Please tell Jee-Yun that I hope to see her soon.

Buck stares for a long moment, then lets out a laugh, thin and mirthless, as humiliation—so much fucking humiliation—crawls up his gut, filling his mouth with bile and shame. Right. He should have known. Did know, probably, somewhere deep down in his gut. But Evan Buckley has always been a dreamer, a believer in the impossible. Even and especially when it costs him.

I'm not going to lie to her.

Tommy doesn't answer, and this time, Buck knows he won't. He slides his phone back into his pocket and stares down at the countertop. His hands are braced on the flat, smooth surface, the fingers of one hand slick with soapy water. He doesn't cry, but it's a damn near close thing. Hell, with the pain currently slicing and carving its way through his chest, he could probably scream with it, but he won't. He won't scare Jee and he won't wake the neighbors, he'll just... deal with it. Like he has been dealing with it, like he always deals with it.

Buck takes a deep breath. Then he grabs the dishcloth he'd thrown aside and walks back over to the sink. Dips the rag in hot, soapy water and wrings it out before returning to wipe down the counters once more. Whatever. All of this is just... whatever. Tommy breaks his heart—he lets Tommy break his heart—for the second time in a row and it's just fucking whatever. Right now, the kitchen needs to be cleaned and Jee-Yun needs to be woken up so she can brush her teeth before he tucks her in, and life does what it does best: it goes on.

He can cry about Tommy Kinard later. It's not like he gets much sleep these nights anyway.

#AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH SORRY SORRY SORRY #tv: 911 #jack.txt #fic rec #otp: eye of the storm #bucktommy #my fic

298 notes · View notes

literarynerd · 21 hours ago

Text

I got Covid for the first time this past April and despite everyone saying that Covid is really mild now, I got really really sick. Not only was I the sickest I have ever been for two and a half weeks straight, I also have experienced months of exhaustion, serious stomach problems, brain fog, and I now have tinnitus.

My mom got Covid for the first time from me, and she qualified for Paxlovid (we’re in Canada), she did the whole course of that then they put her on a special lung medication, and after five days of that they wanted to admit her to the hospital but the next day she was feeling improved enough that she didn’t have too. She experienced many of the same long covid symptoms that I did with the addition of extreme dry mouth, and she thought that she was severely dehydrated all the time. So she started drinking more and more water, then a month ago she started feeling woozy and dizzy and after a few days of that we went to the ER. It turns out she was drinking four times the amount of water she was supposed to be having and her sodium was so low, and the amount of water in her body was so high, that if we hadn’t gone to the hospital she would have likely started having seizures and brain damage in a day or two. So she had to be admitted for two nights on a saline drip, and thankfully there are no lasting consequences beyond her need to be aware of how much she is drinking. Thankfully we are in Canada so that didn’t mean any cost to us besides inconvenience and some stress.

So you never know what Covid will mean for you and what last effects you will be left to deal with.

New zine that's free for anyone to print and distribute! Read the whole thing at newlevant.com/COVIDzine or in the rest of this post.

UPDATE 4/11/2023:

I swapped out the colloidal silver nasal spray info for xylitol nasal spray info. I originally included colloidal silver spray because of the linked study and recommendation from RTHM, but I don't want to be pointing people toward something with notable health risks. Xylitol spray (Xlear) is also cheaper and more widely available!

32K notes · View notes

dcxdpdabbles · 22 hours ago

Note

Hello 👋 if requests are open do you think we can get another of The Summoned Demon? I've never seen a take on Danny being misunderstood and speaking a different language after a summoning and I'm really excited to see where you wanna take this. If not don't worry about it I have a vivid imagination hahaha

Take care of yourself man, this is also your mandatory water and food break ❤️

Danny runs for what feels like hours but is probably only a few minutes, attempting to find the exit of the caves. This would be easier if he could go ghost, but for some reason, his powers were disrupted when he tried to change into Phantom back in the cell.

He didn't know how, but the weird lights had messed with his core. It was almost like an invisible hook had attached itself to his navel. The thing yanked his power into the floor and walls, causing them to explode.

Thankfully, when the strange writing had vanished, a bit of his strength had returned, allowing him to tear through the stone bars. He couldn't go ghost, but at least some of his powers were accessible.

He had super strength, night vision (which would have been really helpful the day he was kidnapped!), and a few energy beams. It could be a better skill set, but if needs must. If only his Phantom stamina could transfer over.

Right now, he was using Fenton Stamina. There was a reason he was failing P.E. It showed how he was gasping for air, kneeling by one of the stone walls.

"Must...huff...find...exit....huff huff....escape!" Danny pants, attempting to crawl forward. "Must....check with a doctor about possible asthma...leg cramp! leg cramp!"

It wasn't going well.

Danny grips the meat of his calf, curling into a tight ball and silently screaming at it. The pain is annoyingly rippling across his whole body, causing his muscles to tense to the point he can only sit there and wait for it to go away.

All the while, he was mentally swearing up a storm.

After a few minutes, the muscles relax enough for him to feel some relief. Slowly unclenching his hands- afraid that if he got too quickly, the pain would return- Danny stretches out his leg. The ache is a distant echo as he slumps against the stone.

"I'm going to die in here," He whimpers. "I'm going to die from a kidnapping cult that thought it was a great idea to wait after my math test to take me."

While Danny wallows in misery, two glowing figures flout out of a nearby wall. A woman who looks to be wearing an outfit straight from the pilgrim's age and a man who may have once been a gentleman in the early ninety-thousands.

Danny's eyes widen at the blood staining the woman's head and dress. It's evident from the crack that runs along the right side of her skull. The man, meanwhile, looks more normal if it is not for the way one of his legs is twisted sickeningly.

"This one is young, " says the woman, shaking her head in pity. "It looks like he hurt his leg."

"I know how that feels," the man sighs, flouting until he is mere inches from Danny's face. "It doesn't seem he's been down here for long. Maybe there is hope someone will find him before the starvation hits."

"What do you mean starvation!?" Danny yelps. The two glowing people flinch.

The man gapes at Danny. "You can see us!?"

"Yeah? You're ghosts, right? I'm part ghost on my mother's side." Danny jokes, only seeing the woman cross herself before doing a slight hop and pointing at him with clear disgust.

"Witch!" She stretches, dragging out the syllables. He a bit impressed by how she puts her whole chest into that yell. Hell, he's even a little envious with how low she got her voice too.

"Not now, Mary," The man hisses at her. He reaches to touch Danny, but the boy avoids the contact, afraid of being overshadowed. That earns him a smile that seems oddly approving. "It's nice to meet you, lad. My name is Harold McConnell; I was an explorer attempting to map out Gotham's caves when I was separated from my crew. I broke my leg in the dark and starved to death. This is Mary, no last name. She and her family were moving from different American colonies when they passed over Gotham, and their carriage fell when the ground gave way. She died upon impact."

Dang, okay. Harold is oddly forward. Danny knows most ghosts are well aware of the specter's unwritten rules: Never bring up another death or share yours until a deep bond has been made.

A bit flustered Danny placed a hand on his chest, ensuring his fingers were spread so that they know he was a friendly ghost. He was not after their haunt or territory. "I'm Danny Fenton. Yesterday I was kidnapped by a cult from my classroom. They had me in warehouse then in a stone cell in a near by cave I escaped them but ended up gettng lost."

Marry lowered her hand, eyes wide. "A cult brought you down here?"

"Yeah, and I'm afraid they will find me," Danny mutters, looking over his shoulder. He can't see or hear anyone, but that does little to reassure him.

Harold's face tightens. "There are many monsters in this city."

"We can show you the way out," Mary offers, flying closer. Danny does his best not to stare at her gruesome features. It would be vulgar. "Does being half ghost- or a witch- make it possible for us to carry you?"

Danny blinks. "I think so, but I can walk-"

"Nonsense," Harold grunts, reaching out and lifting Danny from the floor. He throws him over his shoulder like he was picking up a flour sack. Danny squeaks. "Goodness, I forgot how it felt to hold something. I miss this."

Danny starts to protest, but Harold merely bounces him with a laugh, twisting around where Mary is flouting. "Onward!"

Mary smiles, floating alongside them. "We can go through the west caves to where my skeleton is. There is an opening that should lead to the center of Gotham's suburbs."

"Good idea, Mary," Harold compliments, flying right behind her at a much faster speed than Danny's running. "Listen, lad, we can't leave the blasted caves, but we can stare through openings. The suburbs are the safest place for you to pop out of."

Considering that his only other option is a mad group of cultists, a kiddy pool of blood, or a full ghost status from being lost in the caves, Danny doesn't mind.

He is saddened that they are anchor ghosts, though he suspected as much from the way neither had noticed his Infinite Realms mannerism. It means they are doomed to only wander the areas of their death, forever trapped in their sudden and abrupt demise.

"Thank you for helping me," He says, staring down at his hands. He can see the ground past him back, aware of the way Harold's muscular arms wrap around him without any warmth but not lacking in kindness. "I wish I could take you with me."

"That's a sweet thought, little one witch, but it's alright." Mary says, "We've come to terms with our fate. We even found love."

Danny peaks at her, noticing how adoring she is regarding the ghost, and she can't help but smile. "You two are together?"

"Aye. Mary comforted me in my final hours." Harold responds in a voice as fond and adoring as Mary's: "She was my reward for how I perished."

How romantic.

"I hope I find love like yours," Danny tells them just as they round a few corners and come to a deep drop. The remains of a carriage and five skeletons rest at the very bottom, making him heartache for the fact she had likely been alone with their bodies for centuries.

Mentally, he makes a pack to come back for the bodies and give them a proper burial—once he has his powers, of course.

"I pray that you do," Mary says, keeping her gaze away from the pit. She points upwards to a whole in the cave's ceiling, a few streaks of light peaking through. "Up there, my love."

Harold obediently flies upwards, twisting Danny so the boy's back is to his chest and his hands are supporting him on his bum. Danny's face turns red. "Sorry, lad, but something is covering the exit. I can not touch it, but you should be able to. Kick it until it breaks. It should only be a few layers of grass."

Danny coughs. "I'll try my best."

He kicks upwards, pressing himself into Harold so he has more leverage for throwing his legs upwards. They make contact with a heavy thump, his super strength giving him an edge.

"Donkey kicks, lad!" Harold shouts, "Both legs, nice and even."

He pulls his legs back again, putting more strength into his second kick. It shakes the ground above him as bits of dirt fall through, and the light streaks grow. Danny's legs go through once, twice, and on the third kick.

Danny cheers as the ground above him collapses, falling into the pit below. It's a reasonable-sized hole, just big enough that he will be able to squeeze through, but thankfully, the rest of the ceiling seems sturdy enough that he won't accidentally cause a sinkhole.

"Good job!" Mary cheers, clapping her hands. Harold lets out a deep and joyish laugh, helping Danny straight up by holding his waist and lifting him up through the hole.

He struggles to keep Danny upright when Mary swoops in, lacing her fingers and supporting Danny's feet. Her added assistance allows the ghosts to push him upwards, away from the darkness and into the light.

Danny rises from the ground with a laugh so cheerful he doesn't think he's ever been this happy to see sunlight, even when it blinds him.

It takes a couple moments to adjust his eyesight, stepping out of the ghosts' hold onto solid ground, but he can smell the sweet grass below his feet. He hears the tender psss of a meat on a girl. The alluring aroma of hotdogs-

Wait a minute.

Danny's eyes finally come into focus, and he stares into the faces of a surprise family just about to sit down for a BBQ. His eyes find the face of a very familiar teenage boy looking increasingly horrified by the second.

"Hey, you're the cult pants guy!" Danny shouts at him, twisting around to look down at Harold and Mary. "One of the cult sacrifices is here! I think he escaped, too!"

"Solitary!" Harold yells back, "You have more strength in numbers!"

"I don't know how he can help me since last time I couldn't understand his language- oh! Er, hello?" Danny looks down to where the teenager is once again, clinging to his feet, babbling in his fast-paced language. He presses his face against Danny's leg, rubbing himself there, and the Halfa is quick to try to push him away. "Dude! Dude! Personal space!"

"My word!" Mary calls up, scandalized. "Danny, will you force this young one into being your bride?"

"What!? No! Wait—" Danny looks back at the scene where Mary is once again making that same disgusted face while Harold is offering him a thumbs up and an eyebrow wiggle. "You can understand him!?"

"Yes, can you not?" Harold responds.

"Not even a single word. Would you mind translating for me?"

"I can let you know what he is saying, but I'm afraid the living won't be able to hear us." Marry cautions, sounding strangely apologetic and relieved in the same tone. "He's attempting to bargain for his family's lives in exchange for being your bride."

"Why would he assume I even want their lives or him!?" Danny yelps, finally untangling himself from the teenager and putting in some much-needed details. He makes a x with his arms, hissing when the other guy makes a move to follow him.

"Hard to say. He's not making a lot of sense- it's just pleas for a bargain.," Harold shouts, speaking louder now that Danny has moved away from the hole's edge. "It is best to put some distance between you and him."

"But what about you?"

"Don't worry about us; we've been here long enough. Escape while you can and be safe!" Mary yells over the cries of the rest of the family, who seem to have finally snapped out of their daze.

Danny looked at the two adults, the one pre-teen and a crying five-year-old, and decided he did not want to stick around for more screaming in a language he could not understand. "Thank you for everything you've done for me, Harold, Mary!"

"You're welcome!"

"It was a pleasure lad!"

Quick as a whip, Danny twists on his heel, racing for the fence and leaping over it. He's suddenly grateful for all the times he would sneak into Tucker's house as he clears over the wood in one smooth tug up and over, hitting the ground running.

He ignores the cries of the other humans behind him as he sprints down the surprisingly lovely suburban street.

___________________________________________________________

Jack Roux's hands shake as the demon disappears from view. He thought Batman had a handle on the cult and was free. But obviously, that wasn't the case.

When the ground first started to thump, he thought their garden had a mole or something, only to have his blood turn to ice when the ground gave way. Rising from the ground was the very demon that he had seen only two days ago.

His mother quickly ran to his side, wrapping Jack in her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. His dad stood in front of him, likely wanting to be a shield between Jack and the demon. His little siblings crowed around crying in fright.

It had come back for him, even though he had assumed it was kind and likely was going to go after the others.

If I had been alone, Jack thinks, thankfully his father's quick thinking and fast-paced prayers had scared the thing away in time, I would have been taken again.

It's a bone-chilling thought.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #The Summoned demon #Part 3 #Danny accidentally making himself look worse #Harold and Mary speak about Danny for years after #They are not aware the “cult” Danny was running from was sweet little Bruce and his kin #Ghost culture #misunderstandings

198 notes · View notes