#but is not reflected in the words (as they are pretty clear and descriptive) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kamaluhkhan · 18 days ago

Text

IS IT CASUAL NOW?

pairing: vi x fem!reader word count: 14.6k summary: you and vi are both tired of complicated relationships so try the whole friends-with-benefits thing....and maybe forget the whole point of your arrangement in the first place. warning: lesbian situationships (there is so much angst and yearning), brief mention of (internalized) homophobia and struggles with addiction....but mostly cheesy domestic fluff and smut [oral (vi receiving), fingering (both receiving), thigh riding, slight bondage play, switch!vi has my heart] (18+) ! a/n: merry (belated oops) xmas girls and gays <33 i've probably spent way too much time on this but it's my BABY....kinda based on leighton and alicia's plotline in s1 of sex lives of college girls and ofc casual by chappell roan (there are many other chappell references throughout too hehe). also yes i made a mini playlist that consists of the songs that i think reflect this fic's sun, moon, and rising signs....pls enjoy and happy holidays !!!

♪: "angel baby" by troye sivan (sun); "pretty girl" by hayley kiyoko (moon); "casual" by chappell roan (rising)

“not even one week into the new academic year, violet rose atlas, captain of the varsity soccer team, has been suspended from gameplay due to recent unsportsman-like behavior, sentenced to 100 hours of community service, and banned from the local lesbian bar.”

mel removes her eyes from the screen to raise an eyebrow at you. you just shrug and take a sip of your coffee. you glance over at the clock on the wall.

11:09am.

“to top it all off, she’s late,” you declare, trying your best to hide the anticipation simmering in your stomach.

“what’s your deal, anyways? you totally flirt with her whenever she’s at the bar. not even we get that good of service,” gert points out. they’re searching through a stack of cd’s and cassette tapes for something to play.

“that was before.”

you walk over to sit next to gert, taking it upon yourself to choose the music. you settle on jagged little pill; alanis morrissette’s lush voice is a welcomed addition to your conversation.

“our funding is at risk,” you explain. “it’s like the dean assigned her to us because she knew it would end terribly and the board would have an excuse to finally cut us loose.”

“if they need an excuse, they’ll find one,” gert grumbles.

you shrug. “i just think violet is bad news, which is something i’d prefer we avoid..”

“the article does say that she punched maddie nolan in the face during an exhibition game against the piltover knights.”

“see? bad news. literally.”

“well, i think we lucked out,” sky gushes, though her focus remains on finishing her current project. she’s crocheting so fast that you only catch glimpses of her sparkly pink fingernails. you’re sure she’ll be done with this blanket before violet shows up. if she even bothers to show up. “the yellowjackets might’ve lost their captain, but we get to spend quality time with the hottest butch on campus.”

“whatever,” you sigh, though you don’t disagree with that description. you check the clock again — 11:11am — and settle against the worn couch. “since we have the time — mel, why don’t you read our horoscopes? i’m itching to see what the universe has in store for us today.”

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi spent the better part of last night crying and getting wasted in her bathtub with cheap dye burning into her scalp.

she just couldn’t stand the memory of caitlyn kiramman’s perfectly manicured nails running through her formerly pink locks as they kissed, tugging on vi’s hair to bring her closer —

enough. fucking pull yourself together.

cait’s moved on, that much is clear, with someone more like her. someone whose last name is on buildings all around the university of piltover’s campus.

so far, no amount of bar fights or red cards or late nights in some random girl’s bed seem to mend the heart that caitlyn shattered to pieces, but vi doesn’t give up easy.

soon enough, she’ll be back on the field, leading the yellowjackets to victory at nationals; she’ll finish all her classes, graduate with honors and have a great plan for an even greater future; all while having amazing, mind-blowing sex that won’t lead to serious heartbreak.

relationships are overrated, anyways.

the first step in this plan: spending 100 hours with a bunch of angry, bra-burning lesbians.

maybe vi will fit right in.

so, vi walks into her community service assignment with a wicked migraine and hands that look like lady macbeth plotted to murder an oil spill, but with her usual confident swagger nonetheless, as conversation echoes down the hallway.

“according to your rising, there will be a much needed spark in your romantic life. my guess is a fire sign is gonna sweep you off your feet.”

another voice chimes in, a gentle rumble. “could that be your sweet jules?”

“i’ve never asked about her chart,” an achingly familiar voice replies. it brings back memories of dizzying lights and strong whiskey coursing through her blood, but something else, too. a sky full of stars and too-sweet alcohol on her tongue. “paula was a fire sign, though, and that blew up in my face.”

“paula was a walking red flag.”

“yeah, well, apparently red’s my favorite color.”

“maybe that was just the heartbreak you needed to bring passion back into your life. do you feel that with jules?”

“i don’t know — maybe? we haven’t had sex yet.”

“passion isn’t just about sex, you know —”

“gert, i love you, but i cannot handle a sex therapy session right now.”

someone else giggles, bright and bubbly. “hm, i wonder what sign our pink-haired hottie is.”

vi clears her throat to announce her arrival, leaning against the doorway.

everyone turns to look at her then, with varying degrees of shock, and vi feels like she’s just walked into an after midnight roommate vent session.

she isn’t sure what she expected the space to look like, but zaun university’s women’s centre is well-lived in, defined by a sort of organized chaos. each wall is covered in posters and collages, multicolored flags and fairy lights; there’s a shelf in the corner with assorted trinkets and books piled high, a table next to it with baskets of condoms, pads, and tampons and informational pamphlets, and a door in the opposite corner, slightly ajar. a vintage boombox placed on the coffee table plays 90s alt rock, circled by mismatched seating with patterned blankets and brightly colored pillows strewn about.

someone with dark lipstick and an eyebrow piercing is drawing on their converse; a dark brunette wearing glasses is draping a blanket over the arm of a couch; another person is scrolling on their laptop, a gold necklace glittering on their collarbones.

vi’s attention is stuck on you, though, the origin of the aforementioned familiar voice: the very hot bartender from sappho’s, where vi happened to be kicked out of not even 72 hours prior.

you’re wearing a vintage wonder woman t-shirt tucked into faded blue jeans with a carabiner clipped to a belt loop. the sleeves of your shirt are rolled up, displaying your array of tattoos — vi’s already decided that her favorites are joan of arc holding her sword, a pomegranate that’s been cracked open, and lyrics from bikini kill’s ‘rebel girl’ (which admittedly, vi had to look up when she first saw). it’s everything vi’s booze-soaked brain had apparently memorized after many nights of staring at you across the bar counter, licking up whatever honeyed flirtations you’d spill from your lips. vi always noticed your hands, too: the many rings you’ve stacked on your fingers, the lavender sprig sprouting from your middle finger and venus symbol etched onto your wrist, the nails that are always clipped short and painted black.

one of those nails is tapping anxiously on your coffee mug, which has a picture of hayley kiyoko as lesbian jesus.

“pink-haired hottie, reporting for duty. though, i might need a new nickname.” vi grins; you roll your eyes. “i’m an aries, by the way.”

“good to know.” the brunette winks not-so-subtly in your direction before walking towards vi and extending a hand, gold bangles clinking together at the motion. “i’m sky, she/her. we had electromagnetic theory together last spring. it’s lovely to officially meet you.”

vi makes a big show of leaning down and kissing sky’s hand.

“nice to meet you, too, sweetheart.”

“such a gentleman,” sky giggles and leads vi to the patchwork couch. she curls up like a cat, and vi follows suit — the couch is cloud soft, and vi tries not to sink into the cushions. “i’m our supplies and communications coordinator.” she turns away from vi to look around the room. “okay, that’s my intro. who’s next?”

the person with an eyebrow piercing nods at vi, a sort of effortless greeting. “gert, they/them.” they snap the sharpie shut after writing ‘the future is intersectional’ on the tip of their toe. “i curate and design our newsletter, the black rose. i’m also in a band —”

“the sirens of zaun. yeah, i recognize you. you’ve played a few gigs at sappho’s.”

vi looks at you pointedly, and you take this as your cue to disappear behind the door, which appears to lead into some sort of office.

gert seems pleased, though. “then you might also recognize our lead singer….”

the person with the gold necklace, who vi does, in fact, vaguely recognize but can’t quite name, closes their laptop and waves at vi. “i’m mel. pronouns: she/her. i mostly deal with the finances around here. and, from what i understand, you’re already well acquainted with our fearless leader —”

mel is cut off by the sound of her phone alarm.

“shit — it’s already 11:30. our set at campus radio starts soon.” mel gestures at gert. gert picks up the bright red guitar case behind them and secures it around their shoulder as mel packs up her leather satchel.

“damn, i gotta get to class, too. the space-time continuum waits for no one.” sky gets up and gathers her things, too, stuffing yarn into a fruit-printed tote bag. “it was nice meeting you though.” she pats vi’s head affectionately before throwing out a loud: “see ya later, boss!”

mel and gert offer similar farewells, and you shout goodbye from the other room before the three of them are out the door. vi expects you to reappear a few moments later; when you don’t, she ventures into the office.

it’s smaller, but just as decorated as the lounge space. there’s a desk that seems to be more storage than actual use, littered with piles of books and old copies of the black rose. you’re sitting on a fluffy rainbow carpet that looks like every member of sesame street stitched together, writing something in a sticker-covered notebook.

“so, violet —”

“vi’s fine,” she tells you. she decides to sit on the floor next to you rather than the zebra striped chaise lounge.

you nod, rip a page out of your notebook, and hand it to vi. there’s something a bit too intimate about knowing what your handwriting looks like before even knowing your name.

“this is a run down of everything you’ll need to know, but real quick: we do feminist film fridays and trivia tuesdays on alternating weeks; our radical reads book club meets once a month, along with our slam poetry group, and we have a bunch of other events in between — workshops, art builds, discussion groups, and so on. sky keeps everything in the centre stocked, and occasionally the rest of us will pitch in when organizing a charity drive. our newsletter publishes the third wednesday of every month — gert puts it together, but we print in pairs since it could be a lot of work for one person. we have team meetings once a week to share updates, make sure we’re all on the same page, stuff like that. any questions?”

“wow, okay. that’s a lot.”

you smile. “i’m sure you’ll be able to keep up, varsity.”

“so….where do i fit in?”

“that depends on you, really,” you tap your glitter gel pen on your notebook, thinking. “like, i’m assuming you’re not well versed in feminist literature.”

vi puffs out her chest. “based on what assumptions? i’m not a dumb jock.”

“yeah, i know you’ve made the dean list ever since your freshman year.”

vi raises an eyebrow. “keeping tabs on me, wonder woman?” she teases.

you laugh. “don’t flatter yourself. sky’s the one who mentioned it to me. so, unless you mean your very large, unpaid tab at sappho’s...”

“the bar i was kicked out of, you mean.”

“well, yeah, because you —” you take a deep breath. “not the point. anyways, we don’t have a complete schedule for book club, so you can maybe take the lead on one of our meetings. do you have a favorite author?”

vi smiles at you sheepishly. “ah…..you got me there.”

“thought so,” you smirk and vi covers her blush. “if you’re curious, this bridge called my back is a good place to start. oh, and audre lorde is a classic and a personal favorite…..” you pause when you catch vi staring at you. she wants you to keep talking, to appreciate the way your eyes light up so enthusiastically, but you blink away, and a veil of professionalism falls back onto you. “sorry. anyways, we’re having trivia tomorrow — would you be able to help us out with that?

vi nods. “sure.”

“sweet.” you check your phone. “i’ve got a coffee date, so i should get going.”

“wait — you never told me your name, wonder woman.”

“well, it’s not diana prince,” you quip before finally introducing yourself.

“nice to finally put a name to the face.” vi winks at you, standing up. she extends a hand to guide you up. your hand is cold against her skin, your metal rings even colder.

“i’ll see you around, varsity.” before you’re out the door, you turn back around. “oh, and vi?”

“yeah?”

“don’t be late.”

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

you had stepped away for a quick smoke break — a habit you knew you had to kick — but you’re so fucking drained and it’s only wednesday.

you were up all night bickering with your girlfriend. it started with her admitting that she really doesn’t want to meet your friends, which transitioned into her asking you to not talk to anyone about her or your relationship, which prompted you to make a (maybe slightly insensitive) comment about how she’s welcome to stay in the closet but has no right to push you back in.

needless to say, you did not get any sleep.

you’re about to walk outside, and finally get a moment of peace, when your phone rings. it’s your sibling, and the fact that they’re calling instead of texting tells you that this conversation is about to be (A) exhausting, (B) infuriating, or (C) both.

the correct answer is C.

it’s the same story over and over again: your dad drinks too much, your mom is absent. it hadn’t been this bad when you were growing up, but you suppose you’d been around to ease the damage, or at least step in and take care of your sibling as needed.

“just — take a deep breath. you can come stay with me for the weekend, okay? it’ll be good for you to get away from the chaos for a bit….we’ll go apple picking if the weather’s nice, maybe start working on your halloween costume — whatever you wanna do.”

“you know, i’m not five anymore,” they mumble, stifling a small laugh along with some tears. “but…okay. that sounds nice.”

you smile to yourself, shoulder pressing against the door. “it’s a plan then. we’ll sort out the details later. and, don’t worry about mom and dad — i’ll take care of it. love you.”

you hang up and exhale as you finally push the door open, happy to finally get one moment to breathe.

except, just as you’re greeted by a crisp breeze on this beautiful late september evening, you’re also greeted by the sight of vi pressing someone against the brick wall, their legs wrapped around her waist as she kisses their neck.

something ignites in your abdomen, familiar after many nights of seeing vi at the bar, charming her way into another woman’s bed. except, it’s definitely not jealousy, this time.

(okay, maybe it is; but only a bit.)

they spring apart upon hearing the door slam closed. you recognize who vi’s with — maya, a sophomore who’s frequently attended women’s centre events since last year. she’s always been friendly with the team, but never this friendly.

“oh my gosh, i am so sorry!”

“you don’t have to apologize,” you tell her sincerely. her cheeks are flushed, and she’s busy smoothing down her skirt, clearly trying to distance herself from vi, who’s leaning against the wall nonchalantly. “i just need to talk to violet, so do you mind giving us a sec?”

you wait until maya disappears inside to cross your arms and glare at vi.

“so, it’s violet now, huh?” she teases, wiping red lipstick off her smirk.

“you were supposed to be helping facilitate this workshop,” you note.

“well, it is a queer sex ed workshop.” vi rolls her eyes. “i was giving maya a hands-on experience.”

you grit your teeth together. “and you just had to do that now? like you just had to go down on that third year during trivia last week?”

“well, see, i don’t have a ton of free time, and since i’m not allowed at the local lesbian bar….” she trails off, looking at you pointedly. “i’ve had to resort to multi-tasking.”

“multi-tasking.” you let an exhausted, bitter laugh slip from your lips. “you’ve showed up late to every single event in the past few weeks, and once you’re there, you’re either on your laptop, getting drunk, or hooking up with someone. tell me, violet, as captain of the yellowjackets — if someone on your team was acting like this, what would you do?”

vi narrows her eyes at you, like she can’t believe what you’re asking, and admits, “i’d call them out, tell them to do better.”

“right. and if they kept giving you empty promise after empty promise? you’d have to do something more drastic, even if you didn’t want to, yeah?”

no response.

shaking your head, you take out a cigarette. there’s only silence when you flick the lighter open and light it between your lips. you inhale deeply, letting the smoke enter your lungs, exhale slowly, and decide: “i’m gonna ask the dean to reassign you.”

“fine by me,” vi scoffs, but you swear that something close to disappointment flashes across her face. “clearly, this isn’t working out.”

“clearly.” you take another drag of your cigarette, and as vi walks back inside, you can’t help but try to get under her skin. you’ve had a bad week, between family drama and turbulence in your relationship with jules, and you’re just sick of people not giving a shit. “the year’s already started, so i doubt there’s something available. which means you’ll remain on academic probation until spring.”

and, okay — you do get some twisted satisfaction in how that makes vi stop in her tracks. you’re leaning against the wall, and she strides over to stand in front of you, her jaw and fists clenched.

“i’ll miss the whole tournament.”

you shrug, and blow smoke in her face. “i’ve given you plenty of chances.”

“but the team needs me —”

“you should have thought of that before you fucked up, varsity,” you snap. vi’s eyes widen; you’re usually more level-headed. “you’re cocky, irresponsible — ”

“i lost my scholarship,” vi blurts out, prompting you to pause, the cigarette millimeters from your lips.

you blink at her, blood still roaring in your ears.

“i…don’t know why that’s relevant.”

vi just sighs, so deeply that you feel it in your bones. you haven’t seen this side of her before — no flirtatious smile, no overconfident posture. instead, she slips to the ground, knees pressed to her chest. feeling a bit guilty for pushing her buttons, you slide down next to her. you offer her the cigarette, but she shakes her head.

“i…i’m going through a shitty breakup. i’ve been lashing out, and i lost my scholarship. i haven’t asked my parents for money, because the last thing i want is for them to worry about me. so, i started picking up these odd jobs to make ends meet, and the hours are a bit crazy so between school and practice and — fuck, there’s also shit going on with my sister that i won’t even get into now, but it’s a lot — and i also need to do this because i let my team down and i need to be there for them, whatever it takes, and i’m just so fucking —”

“exhausted, yeah.”

you can see more clearly now — the slump in her shoulders, the shadows underneath her eyes; you see her more clearly. you realize that you might have more in common with violet rose atlas than you initially thought.

“so the laptop —”

“finishing assignments.”

“the drinking?”

vi juts her chin out at your smouldering cigarette. “we all have our vices.”

“and the sex?”

her lips curl into a sheepish grin, and she shrugs. “we all need to relieve stress.”

you clear your throat, blinking away from her gaze and trying to ignore how you can feel warmth radiating from her body, so close to yours. “right.”

vi runs her hand through her tar-black hair. that should have been your first hint — nothing says lesbian breakup more than terribly dyed hair and questionable decisions.

“look, i know i can’t do everything, but i have to, and i’m still trying to figure out how.”

“well….as far as excuses go, it’s not the worst,” you admit. “thanks for telling me. i know that couldn’t have been easy.” you take a deep breath and get to your feet. “i stand by what i said earlier, though — this isn’t working out. you just can’t tell us that you’ll be helpful and not follow through. it means a lot, to a lot of people, that there’s a space like this on campus. mel, gert, sky— they all work so hard to make that happen, and that’s something i need to protect. i’m sorry.”

“wait.” vi grabs your wrist before you can leave. “i’m sorry. really, i am. i promise to do better.”

“you’ve made that promise before,” you point out. “why should i believe this time will be different?”

“because…you’re right. i’ve been too caught up in myself, in what i need, in what my team needs. i can see that you really care about your team, though, and i should have respected that. they’re — you’re — amazing, everything that you do to make people feel safe and heard and loved. i’m sorry for taking that for granted.”

wow. okay.

you did not expect that. you’re hoping that vi can’t feel your pulse quicken at her words, but you’re glad that she’s holding on to you, keeping you steady.

“yeah, well…flattery’s not gonna get you far.” you clear your throat. “but, you’re obviously going through a lot right now, and it can drive you crazy, feeling like you’re the one who —”

“has to keep everything together,” vi finishes, sliding to the ground once more. you follow. “seems like i’m cracking under pressure, this time. fucking everything up.”

“you’ve got a reckless streak.”

“must be the aries in me,” she laughs, softly. “apparently it’s my Ieast attractive quality. along with my stubbornness and selfishness.”

“well, i don’t think that’s the whole picture,” you assure her. vi looks at you incredulously. “i won’t lie and say that your actions aren’t….thoughtless sometimes. you’re more self-centred than selfish—”

“hey!”

“but you obviously feel some sense of responsibility, for your team, your family, for what you think is right. hell — the reason my boss asked me to kick you out is because you started a bar fight with that frat boy who was insisting he had the right dick to set lesbians straight.”

vi scoffs. “asshole.”

“i was about to throw him out, but you beat me to the punch. literally.” you nudge your shoulder against vi’s, and she chuckles. “and, yeah, you’re stubborn, which can be annoying, but it also means that you’d never give up, that you’re willing to keep trying despite the odds, so….”

“so….?”

vi’s looking at you with the widest, softest eyes. fuck, you never expected her to be this gentle, so much so that it you want to melt to her every need.

“i’m hoping third time’s the charm, varsity.”

vi smiles, the most sincere one she’s probably ever given you, and the scar on her lip stretches; for all your talk about responsibility, there’s a part of you who’d risk pushing your already tenuous relationship with your girlfriend to its breaking point just so you could kiss vi, guilt-free, just once. maybe you have a bit of a reckless streak, too.

“thanks, wonder woman. you won’t regret it.”

yeah. you kind of already do.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi would never admit it, but one reason she fought to keep her community service assignment here is because she wanted to keep seeing you.

she likes getting under your skin, seeing those pretty eyes roll whenever she strides in late for a meeting, that kissable jaw clench any time you catch her tangled up with someone else.

it almost makes up for all those nights at sappho’s you’d spent flirting back and forth, some sort of unspoken agreement between you to never go further.

sometimes, it’s just nice to have a crush in your back pocket, to know that they’ll always be there to admire and admire you back while others come and go.

the more time you spend together, though, the more vi realizes that you’re not just a fictional character in her head, in a fantasy she pictures before bed — no, you’re tangible.

vi watches as you bring special tea for gert when their period cramps are particularly painful; she listens to you console mel after another fight with her mother and offer advice to sky when she was hoping to ask out her lab partner. vi notices how you prefer your coffee with a dash of cinnamon; and she learns that you had your first kiss with a girl in your freshman year journalism class, and that your first tattoo was done by the same person. a stick-and-poke star on your ankle.

she can hear your laugh, feel the cool metal of your rings brush against her skin accidentally when you’re squeezing past her in a crowded room, smell your perfume when you hug her goodbye. you have stories and quirks and expectations and opinions that vi subconsciously files away as she gets to know you better.

you’re not just a crush, anymore.

you’re a friend.

vi likes having you as a friend. really — she does!

you’re a friend who makes vi’s heart jump at the sight of your name on her phone. a friend who smirks when vi blushes after you tell her she has the prettiest cheekbones you’ve ever seen. a friend who mentions this vibrator that gave you one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had, so vi orders the same one and maybe still pictures you before bed, imagining that you’re using it at the same time. except someone else might be next to you.

yeah, vi’s pretty sure you’re dating someone, but that’s something she hasn’t gathered enough information on.

not that it matters. she wouldn’t be interested in anything serious, anyways, after the mindfuck that was her relationship with caitlyn, and the damage she’s still having to heal from.

though, if that hadn’t happened, vi would have never gotten into a fight with maddie nolan, the second striker for the piltover knights, who taunted her during an exhibition game about how caitlyn is so much happier now that she isn’t disgracing herself with a filthy zaunite. vi would have never been banned from the first half of the tournament and chewed out by coach sevika for fucking up the yellowjackets’ chance at nationals.

vi would have never been put on academic probation and assigned to 100 hours of community service, either.

she certainly wouldn’t have been here, now, in the women’s centre office close to midnight on a tuesday, folding the most recent issue of the black rose when you walk in.

“oh. hey, v.” you drop down on the zebra-striped couch, your tote bag falling to the ground. “i thought sky was gonna be here tonight.”

vi shakes her head, removing one earbud and letting it dangle from the cord. “she’s got this huge chem report due tomorrow, had to meet up with viktor to get it done.”

“right…” you sigh and lie back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. a few moments pass, and there’s only your steady breathing. “what are you listening to?”

your eyes are closed when vi settles in next to you. it’s a relatively tight fit, but it doesn’t seem like either of you particularly care. vi gently places an earbud in your ear.

you snort, opening your eyes. “you could have just said the cranberries.”

“i’m surprised you recognize them,” vi quips. “it’s not your usual angry girl music.”

“well, sometimes people surprise you. this is actually one of my favorite songs,” you explain. “it’s in one of my favorite movies, too.”

“you’ve got mail?”

you furrow your brows. “when harry met sally.”

vi shakes her head. “no, ‘dreams’ is definitely in you’ve got mail. but, i agree that when harry met sally is a better movie.”

“you’ve watched nora ephron movies and enjoyed them?”

“well, sometimes people surprise you,” vi teases. “i can appreciate a good love story as much as the next person.”

you let out a short, airy laugh. you tilt your head and you’re so close to vi that you’re practically exchanging the same breath. your eyes land on her lips for a millisecond, and vi starts to lean in before you sit up abruptly.

“i could use some alcohol.” you climb over vi and go to the desk, pull out a half empty bottle of fruit-flavored soju from a drawer. you grab two mugs — the hayley kiyoko one, and another with frida kahlo. you stop short of pouring, looking to vi. she nods.

soon enough, you’ve got your legs strewn along vi’s lap, sipping lychee infused alcohol.

“can i ask you something?”

“anything,” vi answers, squeezing your calf.

“why’d you and caitlyn break up?” the question hangs in the air for a second before you add: “if you don’t wanna talk about it though, i understand.”

shit. it’s definitely not vi’s favorite topic of conversation, but….

“i think she thought that i was one of the good ones, that regardless of the way i grew up or the blood that coursed through my veins, i would be her perfect little charity case. people would be like: future president kiramman definitely cares about the poor — just look at the broke angry lesbian she’s turned into her docile wife!”

you suck in a sharp breath. “fuck that.”

“yeah,” vi laughs sadly. “the worst part is that she wanted me to be vulnerable with her, so i was, because i thought the more i opened up, the more she’d love me, but, in the end….i was too messy. i was too much.”

vi hates the lump that starts to build in her throat, the tears that threaten to spill. she cannot cry in front of you —

you grab her hand. your skin is cool against hers, and it eases her quickening heartbeat.

“you’re not too much, v.” your voice soothes her like honey, trickling down her throat. “it sucks, though, when they ask you to rip your heart out of your chest and get mad at you for bleeding out in front of them.”

“shit, i never thought of it so…viscerally, but that’s exactly what it feels like.”

“well you’re not a creative writing major,” you quip. “i know it still hurts — trust me, i know — but your heart was never hers if she treated you that badly. you deserve more.”

is it the alcohol messing with her brain, or does it look like you want to kiss her?

fuck.

vi clears her throat. “why’re you asking?”

you pull your hand away, take a sip of your drink. “jules broke up with me a few days ago.”

you’re single now. good to know.

“what happened?”

“i caught her kissing someone at a bar. a boy.” you roll your eyes. “maybe she just wasn’t ready, which is fine, but when we had it out, she told me that what we had isn’t what romance is supposed to feel or look like, which sucked. especially after being so….vulnerable with her.”

“you offered her that bleeding heart of yours, didn’t you?”

you click your tongue, pouring some more soju into each mug. “course i did, v. and it didn’t mean anything in the end. because relationships suck.”

“i’ll drink to that.”

you cheers, keeping eye contact.

“and you know what?” you take a big, long gulp. “i know that relationships aren’t just about sex, but i’ve been having to get myself off for months now and sometimes, i just want someone else to —”

“take care of you?”

vi sips her drink, watching you mull over her words.

“not sure if i’d put it like that,” you decide. “i just miss that excitement. when another person wants to discover what makes you feel good, and wanting to learn how to make them feel good, too. i miss having that connection with someone.”

“i’m guessing you didn’t have that with jules, then.”

“ha! no. and paula…the girl i dated before….let’s just say, she didn’t give a shit whether i felt good, in any sense.” you shift in your seat; vi senses there’s a story there, but she doesn’t push. “how about future president kiramman — she take care of you?”

vi can’t help but laugh. “nah. i mostly took care of her. she sure liked it when i got down on my knees for her.”

you hum.

“lucky her.”

you wink at vi, and she chokes on her drink.

i would gladly do it for you, if that’s something you want.

“is that a genuine offer? because, if you’re joking —”

shit. did vi say that out loud?

vi’s heart is beating out of her chest, but she sits up straighter to regain some level of composure. she nods.

no use in turning back now.

“i’m serious, wonder woman.”

you stare at her. “i really can’t have another relationship that’s just gonna crash and burn.”

“that’s not what i’m offering. i care about our - our friendship. i care about you.”

you swallow. “i care about you, too.”

“right, and when our friends need help with something….”

“we help them,” you finish. “so, you’re really just talking about casual sex. right now, on this couch?”

“yes,” vi answers. maybe a bit too quickly. “if that’s what you want, too.”

“that’s what i want,” you reply. maybe a bit too quickly, too. “but none of this one sided bullshit: you do me, i do you.”

vi takes your mug, puts it next to hers on the floor, and repositions your bodies so that she’s hovering above you, hips set between yours.

“sounds perfect to me.”

you finally, finally kiss and it feels oddly…familiar. you taste like lychees and nicotine and cherries, burnt sweetness, and your skin is so fucking soft.

“wait.” you tug on vi’s hair and she has to bite back a moan at how fucked out you already look underneath her, all wide-eyed and desperate. “just so we’re 100% clear: just sex.”

vi nods once. “no strings attached.”

“it’ll be casual.”

“we’re not doing the whole relationship thing.”

“promise?”

vi sticks out her pinky, grinning at you sheepishly. you roll your eyes ever so slightly, but still wrap your pinky around hers.

“promise.”

so, you take care of each other. no strings attached.

because that’s what friends are for, right?

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

v ⚽

are u busy rn? got out of my lab early and im bored

wndr wmn ☆

yeah, im at work

v ⚽️

leave early. im BORED and HORNY

wndr wmn ☆

ofc you are

v ⚽️

pls u love it

u know #6 isn’t just my jersey number ;))

i’m implying that i will give u 6 consecutive orgasms

wndr wmn ☆

yeah i got that

v ⚽️

so….

wndr wmn ☆

….

leaving now

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“you sure about this, v?”

vi hums, looking up at you through hooded eyes. “isn’t it every girl’s dream to get tied up by the lasso of truth, wonder woman?”

you’re straddling her, still wearing your red and gold bodysuit underneath blue shorts that you’ve decorated with silver stars. your makeshift lasso of truth — really, just some gold rope — sparkles, tying vi’s wrists together to the headboard.

the theme of the women’s centre halloween celebration is always the same — dress up at your favorite female icon — but you’d never seen someone look as good as vi does. she dressed as trinity from the matrix, all tight, black leather and vinyl, showcasing her defined muscles as the gods intended.

now, she’s left in a sleeveless cropped top and black boyshorts, with her pants and jacket thrown somewhere on your apartment floor.

you have a feeling she really liked your costume, too, because she practically begged you to take control tonight.

“if it gets too much, our safeword will be —”

“sappho.” the slight whine of impatience in her voice sends a jolt right to your core.

“perfect.”

you kiss her lips, her jaw, her neck, your lipstick leaving angry red marks. you lodge your bare thigh in between vi’s legs, biting your bottom lip when you feel her already warm and wet, when you hear her whimper as you apply more pressure to where she needs you most. you reach into your nightstand for your vibrator and switch it on, teasing vi’s nipples through her shirt.

vi moans, deep and loud. not even thirty seconds, and she’s already pulling at the restraints, the headboard creaking.

“are you gonna be a good girl for me, violet?” you coo, inching the vibrator lower and lower, feeling her shake underneath you. “because we’ve got all night, and you better not break my bed.”

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“hey, so — i found these in between one of the couch cushions, thought maybe they might be yours.”

you can only spare a glance at the item mel is holding up — you’re grading freshman papers, focused on this one student’s thesis about gender fluidity in shakespeare’s twelfth night.

“oh, those are vi’s.”

“hm. and just how is it that you know what her underwear looks like?”

you stop writing mid-sentence and look up at mel who’s giving you a pointed look.

you and vi had been the ones to clean up after feminist film friday last week, and one thing led to another….

in your defense: vi had been wearing these low cut jeans that showed off her v-line, and you could tell she didn’t have her usual sports bra on because you could see the outlines of her nipple rings through her tight, white tank top. it took everything in you to wait until people cleared out during the credits of the watermelon woman to pin her down and have her whimpering for you.

“i just…guessed.”

“right.” mel rolls her eyes. “so, you and violet are….what? fucking? dating?”

you clear your throat and take a sip of lukewarm coffee.

“we’re keeping it casual,” is all you say.

“are you sure that’s a good idea?”

you just shrug.

“just — be careful,” mel, always the diplomatic one, eases. she walks towards you, sits on the edge of the desk, and hands you the pair of black briefs. “i know we all teased you about it before, but i don’t want to see you get hurt. i’ve seen you get your heart broken one too many times.”

“it’s fine, mel,” you assure her, grabbing the piece of fabric and shoving it at the bottom of your bag. you’re visiting their owner after this, anyways. “vi and i are just friends helping each other out.”

mel raises an eyebrow. “well, you and i have been friends for years and we’ve never gotten that close.”

“that’s different.”

“how so?”

“i appreciate your concern,” you say, avoiding the question. “but it’s fine. nice, actually.”

“it’s your life,” mel sighs. “maybe don’t fuck on our couches anymore, though.”

your cheeks heat up. you turn your attention back to the essay in front of you.

“noted.”

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi starts showing up at your place after soccer.

she’s allowed back on the field during games now, so she appears with a winning grin, a grass-stained uniform and fresh bruises on her knees. one time, she had the remnants of a bloody nose after a header gone wrong, and you could taste copper when she pressed her lips against yours before she hopped in the shower.

you keep her go-to body wash stocked — bergamot and cedarwood scented old spice — but she always walks out of the bathroom smelling like your mango-vanilla shower gel. sometimes even your coconut shampoo. she slips on one of your oversized graphic tees, drapes a light purple towel around her shoulders to avoid staining your shirt with her cheaply dyed black hair, fading back to pink with each wash. she walks over to the fridge in her soft gray sweatpants rolled at the ankles and cracks open one of the spiced-pear red bulls as you pull ingredients out for dinner. usually something quick and simple, since it’s always a long week and neither of you have capacity for anything more.

vi chops garlic and tells you about her game; you boil water for pasta and tell her about the latest drama between students in your literature class.

you pretend you have all the time in the world.

because you both know that vi’s got the strap packed in her gym bag, that soon one thing will lead to another and she’ll be fucking you with it until you’re both sweaty and spent and exhausted in the best way possible.

you’ve established this routine together, agreed upon several unspoken rules: no pillow talk once it’s over; no actually falling asleep in the other’s bed; no crossing that thin sapphic line between friendship and romance.

no breaking that promise.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

wndr wmn

wanna come over? i’m watching bend it like beckham

v ⚽️

MY FAVORITE!!

i would love 2

but lucky fell asleep on me

we just finished devouring an xl pepperoni pizza

wndr wmn

remind me again why your one-eyed golden retriever likes pizza so much?

v ⚽️

come on it’s cute

[v ⚽️ sent an attachment]

wndr wmn

yeah, you’re cute

v ⚽️

come over here instead?

wndr wmn

omw

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi whines, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“come on — hurry up.”

“you practically begged for this, v,” you chide.

“yeah, but you’re taking too long and your hands are fucking freezing.”

“it’s the irony deficiency, babe,” you quip. “now, are you gonna be a good girl and let me finish?”

“fine,” vi grumbles. she does stop squirming, though. you hum, pleased.

you certainly didn’t miss the way her breath hitches at the nickname. vi’s right hand, freshly polished, tightens on your thigh.

you’re not sure why she called you at 1:27am for your help with this, or why she couldn’t just do it herself, but you’re sitting on her lap, painting her nails the color of pomegranate juice, a color she had chosen from the options you brought.

sure, you were about to turn in for an early night, but the moment you heard her voice through the phone, you rushed over to her place wearing nothing but your pajamas — plaid boxer shorts and a spiderman shirt that vi wore last time she was at yours, and you haven’t washed since.

you stretch time out as much as you can, meticulous in every stroke, but painting her nails doesn’t take much longer. you start to move off her lap — it’s probably time for you to leave — but vi grabs your hips, a playful smirk on her lips.

oh, right. that’s the type of relationship — friendship — you and vi agreed upon.

shit. you’re pretty sure that you’re wearing your days of the week underwear. is it a turn-off that you’ve got on a saturday pair on a thursday?

it doesn’t really matter, anyways.

instead of initiating a kiss, vi takes the bottle of polish from you, swaps it for black, and gestures for your hand. you blink at her, until you realize what she’s asking.

“oh! you don’t have to —”

“you do me, i do you.” vi grins at you. “i thought that was our arrangement.”

you laugh, feeling warmth radiate from your chest.

it’s kind of….adorable, the furrow of her brow, the way she curses under her breath when a drop of nail polish falls onto your skin. she’s surprisingly gentle, too, one of her hands holding yours for support while the other paints.

while she focuses on getting the polish onto your nails in even layers, you busy yourself by counting vi’s freckles.

violet rose atlas has a constellation of freckles sparkling across her cheeks. you hope there’s enough time in the world for you to memorize every single one.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

v ⚽️

do u need more nicotine gum?

im at cvs rn

wndr wmn

yeah that’d be great!!

v ⚽️

i’ll get u the cinnamon one

that’s the one u like right?

wndr wmn

yep!!!

v ⚽️

okay cool

im also gonna get u some of those iron supplements

wndr wmn

my hero 🙏🏽

thank you sm

v ⚽️

ofc

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“that red head was trying to get your number.”

“are you jealous, v?”

vi scoffs, sipping her cherry coke. “of course not. i’m just observant.”

you’d convinced your manager to let vi back into sappho’s. it’s nice, really, to see her back here again.

nice, but different.

gone are the days of staring at her from across the room, where she would be charming someone else, and only flirting with you when she came over to get another whiskey for herself and vodka something for her date. instead, she jokes around with mel, sky, and gert if they’re around, and sometimes brings her teammates in as well to play a game of pool. she usually has one drink, and then switches to something non-alcoholic. sometimes, vi doesn’t even come in for a drink; she just stops by to say hi before a team dinner or a study session.

(it’s fine — never once have you gotten an overpriced coffee from the cafe she started working at mid-october, and you probably stop by once a week between errands. that’s your excuse, anyways.)

so. things are different, but nice.

you lean across the sticky counter. “you want me to get down on my knees for you right now to prove which girl here i’d like to go home with?”

“baby….” vi shifts on the bar stool. it’s hard to tell under the dim multicolored lights, but you’re pretty sure she’s blushing, too.

“i think we both know you’d draw a bit too much attention to yourself. especially when i use my tongue to —”

“my car’s outside.”

you smirk. “my break’s in 15.”

you used to spend your breaks in the alley outside sappho’s burning through a cigarette. now you find yourself knee-deep in the passenger seat, eating vi out like she’s the last thing you’ll ever taste.

“f-fuck,” vi groans.

“feels good, yeah?” you tease her clit with her tongue, sliding two fingers into her easily. you work fast, determined to let her finish before you run out of time.

“so fucking good. i’m gonna —”

she clenches around your fingers; you lap her up eagerly, let her writhe against your face until she’s had enough.

you sit back on your knees once her hips still, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. you crane your neck to check the time on the dashboard, when you notice something in the footwell.

“vi! i thought i lost this.”

vi grins at you sheepishly, chest still heaving as you hold up the complete works of audre lorde, a tattered book with a well-worn spine and dog-eared pages.

“sorry. i meant to put it back on your nightstand once i was finished.”

you open to where she’s placed a makeshift bookmark — the ticket from an underground sirens of zaun show you’d both gone to. you’ve had this copy since freshman year, the scribble of your handwriting in the margins of practically on every page.

“it’s okay,” you tell her. “you like it so far?”

“yeah.” she grabs the book from you gently, thumbing through the pages. you wonder if vi registers the curves of her own smile, tender and bashful. “honestly, i’m not usually a fan of poetry, but it’s really cool how lorde writes about desire between women in such a tangible way, you know? i really liked this one verse in ‘recreation:�� ‘touching you, i catch midnight as moon fires set in my throat.’ it’s just so - so beautiful, the idea of something so domestic and mundane being almost magical, because that’s what it’s really like when —”

you don’t even realize that you’re staring until vi looks up at you and freezes.

“sorry,” she clears her throat, closing the book and setting it aside. “did i say something wrong?”

you assure vi that she did nothing wrong.

you exit her car, the taste of her lingering on your tongue, the feeling of her keeping your body warm on this cold november night.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

wndr wmn

hey

are you in town during break?

v⚽️

having dinner at my dads’ on friday but otherwise im here

why? u gonna miss me??

wndr wmn

lol

im having ppl over for friendsgiving on sunday

if you wanna join

v ⚽️

hell yeah

can i bring anything?

wndr wmn

just your pretty face

i’ll take care of the rest

turkey, cranberry, sauce, stuffing, sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie…

etc. etc.

v ⚽️

damn!!!!

full course meal

wndr wmn

yep

im basically wife material

v⚽️

pls we’re so over gender norms

but yeah

you are

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi has never been the type to wait by the phone for a girl to text, or to show up at her place after not hearing from her in a while, worried that she might have done something wrong.

yet here she is, standing outside your door.

it’s cool, though. completely platonic behavior.

she knocks.

there’s no answer.

she knocks again.

nothing.

vi waits another second, leaning her shoulder against the door.

“it’s me, wonder woman,” she tries.

hope flutters in her chest as she hears you shuffle, unchain the lock. vi stumbles as you throw the door open, but she recovers quickly to find you: smudged black eyeliner enhancing the shadows underneath your eyes, hair in disarray, clothes disheveled.

“i’m not really in the mood for sex.”

vi can’t help but laugh, even though your comment feels like a punch to the face.

“wow. figured you would think more of me by now than just some horny teenage boy.”

“look, vi —”

vi?

since when do you call her that?

“i’m sorry i missed the meeting today. i texted mel —”

damn, so your phone does work.

you’ve just been ignoring her calls and texts.

“but i’m just… it’s not a good time, okay? i’ll see you around.”

ah.

the classic generic excuse and non-committal statement combo.

you start to close the door on her before she even has a chance to get a word in.

the hits just keep coming.

thankfully, vi’s always been a good fighter.

“wait.” vi places her palm firmly on the door before you can fully shut her out. “i’m just here to check on you.”

your face remains unchanged.

“okay, well, you’ve checked on me.”

“yeah, i’ve checked on you. you look like shit.”

you glare at her. “well i’m sorry i didn’t have the time to get all prettied up for you. i know that you like me better that way.”

“that’s not what i —” vi inhales sharply. she’s a fighter, but she doesn’t want to fight you. “mel dropped the news — about admin officially cutting our funding. i knew how that would affect you, so….” vi lifts the bag of takeout. “i brought some thai food for us to share. a pomegranate, too, because i know you like seasonal fruit. it’s been a while and honestly, i just….i just wanted to spend time with you.”

you exhale, your eyes softening.

there.

a hesitant smile, an invitation to come inside.

there are clothes all over your floor and dishes piled high in the sink. your desk is littered with empty boxes of cereal and cans of an energy drink that normally you’d never touch. the blanket that sky had crocheted for you — lavender and pink checkered — is unfolded on your couch, your laptop half-closed on the coffee table in front next to two stacks of printed essays — ones marked with purple pen, the others untouched. in contrast, your bed is still perfectly made.

you take the blanket and wrap it around your shoulders, sitting at the kitchen table and curling into yourself. vi busies herself in cracking open the pomegranate, putting the seeds into the last clean bowl in your cupboard. the palms of her arm wraps are now stained a reddish-purple, but she doesn’t care.

vi manages to find two pairs of clean chopsticks for the thai food, and the two of you eat in silence.

“so….” vi starts, watching you stab a piece of chicken before popping it into your mouth. “you wanna talk about it, or….?”

“what’s there to talk about?”

“well, for starters, maybe tell me what’s been getting you into full hibernation mode? we haven’t seen each other in, like, a week.”

“six days,” you correct, chewing a mouthful of noodles. “last tuesday, we played pool during my closing shift at sappho’s. i lost. you made me down two shots of tequila because you’re a menace and you know i hate it.”

“yeah, but i drove you home and tucked you into bed with water and advil for later, so i’m also a gentleman. so, just tell me what’s been going on. we’ll figure it out, yeah?”

“it’s fine,” you grumble.

“clearly, it’s not. just tell me what you need.”

“what i need is to not be distracted,” you huff, avoiding eye contact. “i certainly don’t need you —”

“taking care of you, i know.” vi grabs your hand from across the table. she feels you stiffen on instinct, and then ease into the heat of her skin. “trust me, i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want to be. so — humor me.”

vi squeezes your hand, hoping to reassure you.

you sigh. “i’ve just — i’ve been spiralling trying to figure out how the centre can keep going with, like, half our required budget, trying to see if we can get some external donors and i still need to finalize the venue and equipment rentals for our last open mic….and….and my sibling called again to tell me that things haven’t been great at home, so i want to go down there this weekend to sort everything out, but my car hasn’t been starting….plus i’m behind on grading, and i told my supervisor i’d have a complete draft ready by thursday and i’m not even halfway done, and that’s the same day we’re having that art build for the climate rally on friday, and i’ve been having the worst cramps since this afternoon, and all i wanna do is pass out and sink into my duvet, but i need to keep going —”

vi squeezes your hand again, this time more firmly. “you need to slow down.”

“i can’t.” you huff. “i have to keep everything from falling apart, and if i don’t….”

vi shifts to the chair next to yours, still holding your hand.

“but you can’t do it all if you’re too exhausted to take care of yourself. from the looks of it, you’ve been living off of frosted flakes, red bull, and zero sleep.”

you shrug. “if that’s what it takes.”

“if that’s what it takes, then maybe it’s not worth it.”

“don’t say that,” you tell her. “it’s all worth it. i just wish it wasn’t so…heavy.”

vi nods, because she really, truly understands. she gives you the advice she can see you giving her in another context.

“you ever think that maybe it wouldn’t feel as heavy if you…i don’t know…weren’t too stubborn to ask for help.”

“there are things that are my responsibility, violet,” you tell her, slipping your hand away. you reach for the bowl of pomegranate seeds, meticulously picking up one at a time with your chopsticks and crushing it in between your molars. “i can’t just pass those off to someone else.”

“fine. but what about other things? like the women’s centre stuff — we’re a team, right? so we’ll figure it out together, divide the labor so you’re not doing everything. and, maybe ask your supervisor for an extension, too? and, well, i don’t really need my car this weekend, so you’re welcome to borrow it.”

you pause, narrowing your eyes at her.

“you said…. ‘we.’”

“well, yeah. i’m part of the team, aren’t i?”

“but you’ll be finished with your hours in a week. there’s no reason for you to stay.”

“of course there is,” vi whispers, studying your face as it morphs from suspicious to something else, something gentler.

her heart is pounding as she waits for you to say something, so vi starts to dig into the pomegranate seeds, the juice surprisingly more sweet than sour. some dribbles out from the corner of her lips, and you reach over to wipe it away with your thumb.

“i’d love for you to stay,” you hum, smiling, and vi feels her chest glow with a brightness it seems only you can bring out. “turns out you give pretty good advice.”

“so…you’ll consider it.”

you shrug again. “maybe. i am very tempted to take you up on the car thing.”

“all yours, if you want it.”

“are you sure?”

“it’s fine, wonder woman. i’ll just carpool to practice — it’s better for the environment, anyways. can’t show up to the climate rally as a hypocrite, can i?” she jokes, and you roll your eyes playfully. “and, i’ll try to fix your car while you’re away.”

“wow. you are a gentleman.”

“gentleman? baby, i’m husband material.”

you actually laugh.

“i thought we were over gender norms,” you quip. “but yeah. you are.”

vi’s cheeks heat up at your statement. you most definitely notice her blushing because you break out into a toothy grin

“i missed you, v,” you admit. “any other words of wisdom?”

despite your tender smile, you look exhausted. vi just wants to hold you through it all, tell you it’s gonna be okay. instead, she settles for placing a gentle hand on your cheek, running her thumb over the deep shadow underneath your eye.

“get some rest, pretty girl.”

a few hours later, you wake up alone.

you have a vague memory of warm arms wrapped around you, a heart beating steadier than yours. your sheets smell like old spice, your apartment smells like fresh laundry. you get out of bed and notice that there are no more dishes in your sink, no more cans or containers on any surface. all the clothes you’d been meaning to wash are now carefully folded on your couch.

there’s a bright pink sticky note on your nightstand next to the keys to vi’s car.

you talk in your sleep. something about stargazing? maybe we can go when you get back.

drive safe. text me if you need anything.

xxx

- v

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

zaun yellowjackets vs. piltover knights.

two minutes left in overtime.

one goal standing in the way of their trophy. one goal to end piltover’s monopoly over the title of national champions.

caitlyn probably told her knights to be extra aggressive — win by any means necessary — so it’s been a long game of dirty plays and intentional fouls.

vi always puts her heart into every single game, but this time —

this time, it’s personal.

zaun’s defense works to regain possession and prevent piltover’s attack. ashe manages to intercept a pass between two knights, and is quick in dribbling the ball until mid-field. she sends it over to vi with a swift kick. vi’s quick on her feet, catching piltover’s defense by surprise, sprinting closer and closer to the goal. she makes it to the penalty box.

this could be the winning point.

vi has it, too. she’s so fucking close, about to fake out the goalie and kick into that hard-to-defend sweet spot — until a sharp, pointy elbow collides with her ribs so abruptly, it knocks the wind out of her lungs. she stumbles forward over the ball, knees skidding onto the grass. whoever it is also steps on vi’s cleat for good measure.

“fuck!” she looks up to see who it is.

of course. it’s maddie fucking nolan, who doesn’t spare so much as a glance as the ref doles out a red card. she nods at caitlyn as she walks off the field, no doubt following her captain’s orders.

her teammates help vi to her feet, and the ref makes sure everyone is in position for the penalty kick.

this could be the winning point. vi just has to ignore caitlyn’s icy stare from a few feet away, and the heart threatening to beat out of her chest.

vi takes a deep breath.

she looks to the stands. among the crowd of screaming fans, zaunites and pilties alike, is vi’s family. they’re cheering.

you’re there too, sitting next to them.

everyone is staring at vi, waiting for the whistle, waiting for her to make the shot, but the only person she stares back at is you.

you’ve got this, v, you had whispered to her the night before. she couldn’t sleep, so she called you. vi wishes she was back there, now — tangled in flannel sheets, lucky snoring at the foot of the bed, gazing up at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to her ceiling until she finally fell asleep in your arms.

but, vi’s on the field.

and this is the winning point.

the whistle blows.

she makes the shot.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“i told you i wasn’t a jinx!” powder sticks her tongue out at mylo.

she’s all sweat and dirt and adrenaline, but, fuck, if vi isn’t so, incredibly happy and proud of her team, of everything they’ve been through, everything they’ve accomplished.

it almost doesn’t feel real.

just like it doesn’t feel real, seeing you talk animatedly with her sister’s boyfriend, laughing along with her siblings, smiling as you watch her dads hug and praise her.

when it’s your turn to do the same, you practically leap into vi’s arms, gushing about how amazing she was, how proud you are of her.

“this looks good on you,” vi hums, as you pull away from another hug. her fingers play with the bottom of the jersey, and she bites the inside of her cheek to ground herself in the moment. you, with her family. you, in her jersey. “thinking of joining the yellowjackets?”

“i think i’ll leave the soccer to you,” you tell her. “you were amazing out there. guess i should be calling you wonder woman from now on, huh?”

“wonder woman! that’s where i remember you from!” vander suddenly exclaims, stepping closer to the pair of you. silco turns around, too. “you once tried to get into the last drop with a fake id, didn’t you? under the name diana prince?”

“shit,” you laugh nervously, eyes flickering between vander and the ground as if you’re once again a teenager caught in the act. “i….probably did.”

“i kicked you out, told you to go home to themyscira.”

“yeah…i….i remember that.” you nod slowly, furrowing your brows. “except, i didn’t want to go home that night, so i lingered outside,” you continue. you turn to vi, and your face softens. “which was when you —”

“brought two glasses of cherry coke and rum,” vi finishes; she sees flashes of that night as you gaze into her eyes. “we climbed onto the roof and —”

that was her first kiss. vi never even realized until now, but —

you were her first kiss.

“i can’t believe i forgot that.”

“weird, how memory works,” you agree, tilting your head curiously, looking at vi with a newfound interest, like a ghost from your past.

“well, isn’t this a story we’ll be sharing on your wedding day!” vander chuckles, ruffling vi’s hair.

“don’t pressure them, darling,” silco chides, but the smirk growing on his face gives him away. he’s loving this drama. “they’re barely 23 — i doubt they’ve discussed marriage.”

“oh, we’re not —”

“yeah, we’re just —”

“friends,” you say at the same time, careful to avoid eye contact.

vi feels like she might burst into flames at the knowing look vander and silco share.

“well, violet, would your friend like to join us for a celebratory dinner?” silco asks.

so that’s how you’re sitting between powder and claggor, listening to them talk your ear off about the young innovator’s competition. vi’s sitting across from you, next to ekko, who occasionally pipes in.

you’re here, sharing the tradition of a post-game meal with vi’s family at the local pizza parlour.

caitlyn never even wanted to meet vi’s family.

a few pizzas are ordered for the table, and you eat and laugh and sip your soda along with everyone else. you make a flower out of your paper napkin and hand it to isha, who’s on the other side of powder, and she gives you a toothy grin in return. you answer all the standard questions about your job and major and plans for the future.

“after graduation, i’m probably gonna take a break, get some work experience,” you explain. “maybe save up some money for law school a few years down the road.”

“you wanna be a lawyer, huh? you sure you wanna be friends with a felon, then?” powder asks, blowing bubbles into her soda through her straw.

vi coughs, choking on a mushroom.

“powder!”

“what! she never told you?”

you shake your head, glancing over at vi who suddenly finds it hard to look you in the eye. your foot has been pressed against hers underneath the table all night; you pull it away now. she takes a big gulp of water; vi looks over at vander and silco for help, but they seem to be caught up in their own conversation.

“oh, damn! ” mylo adds, leaning over. “it’s a great story!”

“guys, maybe don’t —”

“but it’s a great story!” mylo insists. “shows what a badass you are!”

“she didn’t do anything serious, like murder or anything,” powder clarifies. “it was really just her pissing off some enforcers —”

“rightfully so,” ekko adds.

claggor nods. “we were just kids. they were harassing us for some bullshit, disruption of property or whatever, so vi steps in and things get heated —”

“it takes three of enforcers to get her handcuffed, but she manages to get a few nasty hits in before they send her off to stillwater —”

“she spends three days there —”

“i thought it was two —”

“no, it was three —”

“needless to say, this isn’t the first time vi has been sentenced to community service, but it seems she’s really enjoying it this time, thanks to you,” powder finishes, winking at you.

“well that’s….quite the story,” you finally say, voice steady.

“oh! let’s tell her about the time she stole from some enforcers that were hoarding food —”

as powder continues the story, and you listen intently, it’s hard to read your expression.

are you ashamed of being friends with her? disgusted by her family, her past? regretful that you ever let her touch you, let her into your life?

vi’s stomach turns when your eyes collide; she’s been down this road before, and vi’s scared that she knows exactly what you’re thinking.

she pushes her chair back and disappears to the bathroom before she has to watch you walk away.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

there’s a knock on the door.

“someone’s in here,” vi says. she grips the edge of the counter so hard, her knuckles turn white.

deep breaths.

this isn’t the same as before.

this isn’t caitlyn, who threw vi out like a piece of trash when something better came along.

then again, you never knew this much about vi’s past. you’re well within your right to —

there’s another knock.

“v? it’s me….i have to get going, but i wanted to check on you before i leave.”

“okay,” vi clips. she looks up at herself in the mirror; she had splashed her face with cold water to calm herself down. a drop falls from her chin. “bye.”

“are you sure you’re okay?”

“i’m fine. see you around.”

you sigh, and vi hears you settle against the doorframe.

“violet, let me in,” you press. “please?”

“i’m fine. you can leave.”

“okay, well, i’m not leaving until i see that gorgeous face of yours one more time,” you whisper. “i got all dolled up just for you, and all i wanna do is give you a proper goodbye….”

well, when you put it like that….

vi grabs some paper towel to dry her face and fixes her hair before opening the door for you. you smile knowingly, enter and lock the door behind you.

you lean against the door as vi leans against the counter, the marble digging into her lower back.

“okay, i’ll start because, frankly, i don’t have time to waste,” you state after a few moments of silence. “nothing i’ve learned about you tonight has changed how i see you. it’s just confirmed some things.”

“right. like how impulsive and violent and reckless i’ve always been,” she lists glumly, unable to look you in the eye.

“maybe you are all those things,” you pause. “but, i don’t fucking care. i mean, i do, because it’s part of you and i like who you are. i like you.”

your words do wonders to ease the tension throughout vi’s body, and she feels like she can actually take a breath.

vi’s eyes lock onto yours.

“you do?”

“i like who you are, every part of it,” you tell her. “well, i don’t like that you’ve had to fight your way through an unbelievably fucked up system ever since you were a kid, but the bottom line is that you’re the strongest, most compassionate person i know.”

vi blinks at you.

“funny, i was just thinking the same thing about you the other day.”

neither of you say anything for a minute or so, letting the sentiment linger in the small space between you. once more, you’re the one to break the ice.

“well, you know what they say about great minds….” you step closer to vi. you take her chin between your thumb and your index finger. "can you guess what i’m thinking now?"

vi shakes her head, throat suddenly very dry.

“i’m thinking that i’ve wanted to kiss you all night.”

“what’s stopped you?”

you grin. “i didn’t want to make a fuss in front of your family, but now that we’re alone….”

vi doesn't say anything, but instead closes the gap between your lips.

you kiss her, harsh and messy, tongue and teeth, swallowing her moans as your fingers snake down the waistband of her pants. you pull vi’s bottom lip with your teeth before moving to her neck, nipping along the outline of her tattoo. you bite down harder on her skin, right at her pulse point.

"what’s that you said earlier —” a low groan tumbles from vi’s lips when you start to suck just above her collarbones. another when your tongue soothes over the sting. “about a proper goodbye…?” she tugs your hair so that you’re looking right at her.

it’s quite the sight — your lips swollen, chest heaving, eyes curious and lustful.

“anything you want,” you whisper, all breathless.

vi hums. she slips a hand underneath the frayed hem of your denim skirt, and you gasp as her nails scrape against your inner thigh.

she likes that you’re here. here for her.

"get on your knees for me, sweetheart.”

she pulls down her pants along with her briefs, as you kneel before her without hesitation.

you drape one of her legs over your shoulder, giving your tongue better access to her cunt. vi grips your hair tighter, bringing you in closer, and you moan, sending vibrations up her body.

"fuck," vi hisses. you add a finger, while your tongue works her clit.

you bring her to the edge, stay with her even as her thighs clench around your skull. she expects you to get back on your feet right away, but you stay, adding another finger and sucking her clit. she moans your name.

you pull away slightly. "one more, pretty girl," you promise. your chin glistens with vi’s release; you lick your lips as you gaze up at her through thick eyelashes. "can you do that for me?" she nods furiously, and you get back to work.

after letting her ride your tongue and fingers through another orgasm, you kiss her ankle before releasing her leg. vi pulls you up to your feet, sucks the taste of herself off your tongue.

you pull away slightly, heart racing against vi’s chest.

vi swipes her thumb over the smudged lipstick below your lip. she studies you, admires you, like you’re a fucking work of art that belongs in a gallery, like you didn’t just fucked her through two consecutive orgasms in the bathroom at a pizza parlour while wham's "last christmas" plays through shitty speakers.

"take these off." vi tugs at your tights. you do as instructed, slipping off your underwear as well. she pulls you towards her, and lodges a leg in between yours. your bare cunt brushes against her thigh, back and forth as she guides your hips. "i can't believe you got all dressed up…. wearing my jersey, and this pretty little skirt even though it’s so cold outside. all for me?"

vi flexes her thigh muscles, pushing you down faster and harder. you whimper.

"all – all for you.”

vi feels her pussy clench, with the desperation in your voice, the stickiness of your heat against her skin, the smell of the two of you intertwining. your orgasm crashes into you, and vi holds you through it.

you kiss her ever so sweetly before removing yourself from her grasp, smoothing down your skirt and looking around for your underwear.

"where are my...."

you look over as vi tucks your fuschia thong into the inner pocket of her jacket.

"i'm guessing you'll buy me replacements for christmas."

vi flashes you a shit eating grin before putting on her own underwear. she then pulls up her pants, not wiping your release from her thigh. she likes the idea of walking around with you seeped into her skin.

when vi looks over at you, you’re as fully dressed as you can be and busy checking something on your phone. she only sees a flash of your lock screen, but it’s her. a photo of her and lucky playing at the park; there’s snow, so it had to have been a few days ago.

that doesn’t mean anything, right? people use photos of their friends for their wallpaper all the time.

“i really have to go,” you sigh. you pull a tube of lipstick from your pocket and step closer to the mirror. “hey — do you think we could switch shirts? not sure i should wear this to my next dinner.”

vi nods and you remove her jersey, revealing a matching fuschia bralette. she wonders what’s got you all coordinated — who else you’ve clearly dressed up for.

“so, you’ve got a hot date?” vi tries to act casual as she takes off her jacket, pulls off her shirt, and waits for you to answer. you take your time, fixing yourself in the mirror.

“something like that,” you finally say with a shy smile.

later, when isha’s asleep on powder’s lap in the backseat, vi thinks about how your date might have gone, if you’re taking them home to the same bed vi has fucked you in throughout these past few months.

where do you get off, fucking vi in the bathroom during dinner while her parents are at the table, only to leave for another date, wearing vi’s shirt, too?

“hey, can i ask you something?” ekko asks from beside her, cutting off the angry monologue in her head.

vi reaches over to turn down the music.

“sure, little man. what’s up?”

“what’s the deal between you and wonder woman?”

vi clears her throat, gripping the steering wheel. “what makes you think there’s a deal?”

“oh, please, we all noticed that hickey on your neck after she visited you in the bathroom.”

the car crawls to a stop as the light turns red, and vi adjusts the collar of her shirt.

“we’re just friends.”

“well, powder and i were just friends for ages,” ekko points out.

vi doesn’t notice that the light’s turned green until someone behind her honks. she steps on the gas, but the idiot behind her still cuts in front of her.

“asshole,” she grumbles, throwing them a middle finger for good measure. vi glances to her right at ekko, who’s scribbling something in his sketchbook despite only the streetlamps outside providing light. “so, what made you….realize that you wanted something more?”

ekko closes his book, smiling to himself.

“honestly? it was kinda a million little things, but what it really comes down to is that she’s the only person i could spend every second of my life with, and i’d still want more time. and, in my experience….it’s better to tell someone how you feel sooner rather than later.”

“or, some people prefer to wait a few weeks,” powder mumbles, stirring awake. “nice try, mister, but no interfering. i’m not losing 20 bucks.”

“wait — you’ve bet on my love life?”

ekko smirks. “so it is love.”

vi shrugs, pretends that she doesn’t immediately picture you in your kitchen, making her banana pancakes at 2am when she hears the word love.

“it doesn’t matter.”

because, it really doesn’t matter.

you’re out with someone else right now.

it’s over before it really had a chance to begin.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

cupcake

Hey, Vi

Just wanted to say good game today

You played brilliantly

Violet

cupcake

No need for the attitude

I was just trying to be nice

Violet

my apologies!!!

thank you SO much for recognizing my talent captain kiramman

i feel like i’m actually worth something now!!!

cupcake

Bitterness isn’t a good colour on you, darling

Violet

im NOT your darling

cupcake

I’m aware

I saw you earlier with that girl

Are you together?

Violet

idk

are you still with maddie?

cupcake

Actually, we broke up

I was hoping you and I could chat

Violet

what’s in it for me?

cupcake

The chance to reconnect with an old friend

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

you can excuse vi no longer attending the weekly team meeting. she finished her 100 hours around thanksgiving, so technically she didn’t need to be there anymore.

maybe you could excuse her ignoring your calls, or leaving your texts on read. it’s finals season, and she did mention picking up a few extra shifts to save up for christmas presents.

but you simply can’t excuse vi walking into sappho’s with caitlyn fucking kiramman, ordering drinks from you like you’re absolute strangers.

“what the fuck, vi?” you seethe.

vi glances at her date. caitlyn’s waiting for her back at a table, the glow of her phone screen illuminating her pretty face.

“what, should i have ordered something else? not every girl likes cherry coke and rum.”

you glare at her from across the counter, but start preparing their drinks nonetheless.

“why are you with her?” you throw some ice in a glass, the cubes clinking aggressively against the crystal. “are you back together?”

vi has the audacity to roll her eyes at you. “why’d you care?”

you catch yourself before saying something you’ll regret, something about liking her more than you definitely should considering the agreement the two of you had made.

clearly, vi doesn’t feel the same way; it’s not worth spilling your guts to her at your place of work.

“because we’re friends.”

“yeah, right,” vi scoffs. “you’re jealous, which you have no right to be because you’re seeing someone, too.”

you accidentally pour a double shot of vodka. you don’t really care, and mix the drink anyways.

“what the fuck are you talking about?”

“i’m talking about the date you went on the night of my championship game.”

“what date?” you slam the glasses in front of vi, so hard that you’re lucky they didn’t break.

“oh, don’t play dumb.” vi spits your name like it’s poison. “this whole thing started because you said you didn’t want a relationship, when really you just didn’t want a relationship with me. you used me until someone better came along. you lied to me.”

her eyes are glazed over, her voice shaking ever so slightly. you’re not sure if you’re more hurt or angry by what she’s saying, but it cuts deep; you continue as though you aren’t bleeding out in front of her.

“i don’t want a relationship with anyone and certainly not with you —”

“excuse me! are we able to order something?” someone with bright green hair and a septum piercing waves their hand in front of your face.

“yeah, just give us a second —”

“look, you and your girlfriend can fight on your own time.”

“she’s not my girlfriend!” you and vi snap simultaneously.

you glare at each other.

vi grabs the glasses from the counter, and walks away.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

it took many brainstorming sessions, many boring conversations with potential donors, and many, many tears, but you managed to secure enough funding to keep the women’s centre going for the foreseeable future.

it was a team effort, of course, so you just want everyone to enjoy this open mic night, the last event of the semester — even though you are weighed down by the absence of a certain someone.

the gallery space on campus that you rented out is both cozy and electric, decorated with fairy lights on the walls, with pillows and blankets on the floor for people to sit and watch performances. there’s a table with drinks and snacks, a corner for people to make art if they’re inspired.

you’re rearranging the food, watching gert perform an original song when mel slides in next to you, wearing a gorgeous white dress with gold accents.

“do you mind running to the office? we’re out of paint.”

“really? people don’t usually use the paint.”

“well, it seems to be quite popular tonight.”

“it’s fine. we still have lots of other stuff. they can just collage or something.”

mel shakes her head. “i really think you should go get more paint.”

“maybe ask sky? i should stay here —”

“you could use a break, too,” mel cuts you off, placing a hand on your shoulder. “you’ve been nonstop all day; the rest of us can hold down the fort for a little while.”

you concede, mostly because she’s right and you don’t have the energy to argue.

when you get to the office, you’re surprised to find the lights on. even more surprised that someone’s already there, sitting on the zebra-striped couch.

“vi?”

she jumps slightly when you say her name.

“mel texted me,” she rushes out like she’s been caught red-handed. “said she needed help with something she’d been planning.”

you frown, until you realize why mel must have sent you here, specifically.

you haven’t seen vi since that night at sappho’s; you’d been quite a mess after your shift, ranting to mel on the phone about how she’d been right and you should have been more careful, how you don’t know what you did that ruined whatever you and vi had, and you really don’t know what you can do to fix it.

you’re both too stubborn to reach out to the other, so it seems like mel decided to take matters into her own hands.

“yeah, i doubt she’s coming,” you tell vi.

“okay,” vi says, but she doesn’t move. “i, uh, i was hoping i’d run into you, though.”

“yeah?” you raise an eyebrow at vi, crossing your arms. “needed another vodka martini for your piltover princess.”

“she’s not — we’re not together.”

“oh,” you exhale. the animosity you were holding towards her evaporates, but doesn’t completely disappear. you watch her, watching you stand by the doorway.

there are so many things you want to tell her, but you don’t even know where to start. you know that you’ve hurt her. she hurt you, too.

but, also:

you miss the cloudy blue-gray of her eyes, the scar on her upper lip.

you miss her.

“do you wanna come sit?”

after being so far away from vi, for what feels like forever, you don’t hesitate to take her up on the offer. your knees brush together as you settle next to her on the couch, a jolt of electricity passing through your body at the contact.

“so, i admit that —”

“vi, you were right —”

both of you stop your sentences short, chuckling nervously. you each urge the other to continue, and only get caught in a similar mess:

“i fucked up,” vi blurts out.

“i lied to you,” you confess at the same time.

an awkward, unfamiliar silence hangs above you; you’re not sure what to do next.

vi takes the leap. she tells you that mel explained everything: that you had to attend a dinner with alumni and potential donors on the same night of her championship game, but you kept it from vi since it was already a big moment for her; that you haven’t been on a real date with anyone else since september. vi apologizes for jumping to conclusions and falling back into caitlyn’s arms, shutting you out when she should have just talked to you.

you’re the girl who was her first kiss, she says. the girl who lingered in a vague memory, appeared in the fiction of her daydreams, and then suddenly became too real.

“i like you. i really fucking like you. and if it has to be as a friend, that’s fine because i don’t want to lose you.” vi takes a shattered breath, blinking back tears. she fiddles with the ring on her index finger, anxiously bouncing her knee. you place your hand there to steady her, and she exhales. “i guess i’m just not sure….when you said you liked me that night at the restaurant….is that what you lied about?”

vi’s practically doe-eyed, waiting for you to respond.

you shake your head.

“i lied when i said that i didn’t want a relationship with you,” you admit, and the hint of a smile dances across her lips. “i had this major crush on you, you know? every time you came into sappho’s….i couldn’t help it. and then you showed up here and we became friends, and then we started….well, you know the rest.”

“duh. i was there,” vi jokes, easing into her usual, playful self.

“i can’t do the whole casual thing,” you continue, rubbing circles into her knee with your thumb. “i know we made a promise, but i just can’t, not with you. it’s like…in every other relationship i’ve been in, i was trying to run out the clock. with you, though, with us, i feel like there’s never enough time —”

vi grabs your neck and crashes her mouth onto yours before you can finish your sentence.

you’ve kissed each other many times, in many different places, in many different ways, but never like this: like you’re both willing to break one promise if it means forging a new one.

“will you be my girlfriend, violet rose atlas?” you whisper as you pull away, lips brushing against hers.

you start to count the freckles on her cheeks as she beams at you, pulls you into her lap.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

2K notes · View notes

conchfritters · 1 month ago

Text

head in my hands tears in my eyes yeah. Yeah in game collei is not what i wanted when i was excited for sumeru! the questionably accurate metaphor that I use for how I view genshin’s writing is like if we had a charcuterie board with meat, cheese and crackers on it. you can pick what you want off it, like all of them stacked or maybe just some meat or maybe just crackers etc. And then they get rid of the meat and cheese but they keep calling it and acting like it’s a full charcuterie board. the only people who are happy now are the people who only wanted the crackers, but they were already happy, because the crackers were still there. the only thing that has been accomplished is that people who liked all the flavors together think this sucks, and people who only wanted the meat or the cheese think this sucks, and people who wanted any combination of two of the options think this sucks. hang on this needs a read more i got carried away

it's taking every character they have and sanding them down into the most trope-friendly version of themself, at the cost of personality details, at the cost of relationships, at the cost of characters around them, at the cost of them feeling connected with the world and consequently of the world feeling more alive, in favor of appealing to ships or found family* or fandom in jokes** (things that, if left alone, develop naturally. in contrast to this weird manufactured fandomization that hoyo pulls that winds up just being bad writing, see charcuterie board metaphor) *particularly the "and these are the parents and these are the kids" or "siblings (but without any particular details or focus on either as an individual and how that effects a sibling dynamic)" type of found family. the very structured nuclear family kind **amber has a meta joke in her tcg dialogue. Fun fact that i hate.

so kaeya winds up a Found Family Brother (and also exemplifies their other running trend of linking characters to 5-stars. interesting advertising choice that i don't like) who Teases People (but only in a nice silly way! don't read his character story 2) and also is Sad (but only in a nice, easy on the details way. don't think about the whole diluc and kaeya's fight, which is the second attempted murder involving kaeya that hoyo refuses to elaborate on, or the whole khaenri'ah conflict thing)

and then you end up with things like collei's about kaeya line saying that she's sooo shy and nervous that he's gonna tease her. and because interpersonal relationships mean nothing here, collei's suddenly best friends with mondstadt as a whole. the simulanka event retconned has her greeting klee and klee saying it's been ages (they never met?) she asks how jean is despite not talking to jean once except to lie to get into the library. her reuniting with amber is done off-screen, their dynamic is simplified into Shy Cheerful Collei wants to be Not Shy Cheerful Amber (except amber can't be TOO not shy. all that being headstrong and blunt in 1.0 and the webcomic got taken away from her when she became Half Of a Ship with her designated 5-star). suddenly the whole "mondstadt was a last ditch effort to not die" and the "collei killed two people in cold blood" and the "she was willing to lie her way through for survival" bits are gone. collei's new conflict is that she's shy. she's shy and struggling in school and so found family daughter, by the way. is this shyness her struggling to adjust to living among people after a whole childhood as a human experiment on the run? never going to come up! that's a big scary plotline for a character here to slot into found family archetypes. and of course to remind you of eula's heart of gold, because in inheriting amber's new flanderized personality she also had to inherit the torch of standing next to eula and going hey guys don't forget to pull our 5 stars (something that also never does any favors to the 5-stars, who also have their personalities watered down, but i digress)

and again with my charcuterie board metaphor because i'm trying to keep this tangent from being Too incoherent. kaeya and diluc/klee interacting would be perfectly fine and even good If it wasn't the Only interaction they were allowed to have (except klee who is the only mondstadt character who exists in hoyo's eyes). when characters exist OUTSIDE of each other it makes them MORE interesting together. kaeya's lines about missing childhood during the 1.6 event and the way he takes care of klee are super interesting! the one scene of him in the simulanka event where he's telling those guys off for arguing in front of klee was a highlight of the event! but unfortunately their refusal to actually use their characters made it the only highlight of an hours long event with a full cast, and rather than make me like kaeya as klee's babysitter more, it just made me want to see more of kaeya on his own. "kaeya never saw himself as a child" is such a good interpretation i wish someone at hoyoverse would come to it to

(honorary mention to collei's one "she's like a wilted mushroom!" "collei that's so morbid?" bit, which was the only collei scene i liked. not a great sign either. i wish she stayed at least a little mean)

so you could have jean and kaeya or jean and amber or jean and diluc or jean at all developed. but jean isn't half of a ship (not with an event exclusive 5 star anyway) or found family, nor is she the lucky winner of whatever random number generator they use to decide who shows up in events (why was kokomi there when she had no interaction or chemistry with any other character involved? Because she may as well be)

they'll have the hidden strife letters which were good. they had all of the little 1.x lines and interactions that were subtle that came together to flesh things out ex. jean and diluc's pet turtle conversation, kaeya's whole pirate thing, his appearance in venti's story quest, everyone during the first summer event honestly (i miss jean so bad). and then they'll drop another 3-4 hour long festival/fairy tale/hexenzirkel/We Wanna Be 1.6 So Bad event with a cast that never makes it past "hi nice to meet you" where nothing happens and you get mediocre furniture. and then they'll throw in kaeya's whole scene in the theater in his hangout and show that they still can write characters. and then they'll drop him in sumeru to go Yeah i'm from khaenri'ah. Later! and leave

kaeya and collei's underwhelming in game dynamic are shaking hands with amber being written out of a scene entirely in shadows amidst snowstorms just so she wouldn't be the one to sniff out fakebedo in my head. i'd say we're due for a lisa blunder to finish the starter trio but that would involve them having lisa show up for more than 2 seconds

like i don't expect them to address the stabbing a 12 year old thing, but there are ways that they could have fleshed out kaeya & collei without outright saying that he stabbed a 12 year old. make amber and kaeya contrast, with amber having trusted collei and kaeya having not. collei looks up to and wants to be like amber but she is at the end of the day more like kaeya. i think that they could understand each other in a way and there are so many different ways that could be written. like it's very relevant to Me that kaeya was trying to kill collei in front of amber. he says she arrived just in time for the finale so he either didn't care that she'd shown up or wanted her to. he says he's going to "rip that deceptive mask right back off [collei]" and taunts her by asking what her friends would think of her now. was he trying to teach amber a lesson about trusting a threat to mondstadt? he calls her an entertaining exemplar of justice in the beginning, was he trying to throw her trusting people back in her face? teach her a lesson by it? something that would make his and diluc's relationship more interesting by proxy, because you know who else wears a deceptive mask? you know what other pyro user felt betrayed? and then by continuation there's the "diluc tried to stab kaeya vs. amber flew collei out of there and asked for her reasoning" paralell that makes amber and diluc have an interesting dynamic without having ever interacted. when you build webs like this things flow so much better than sectioning characters off into little groups that they aren't allowed out of

and that makes diluc showing up at the end of the barnabas fight more interesting. it makes amber being called a true child of freedom BY VENTI during the archon quest more interesting. the fan translation of the last webtoon chapters (because hoyo fucking hates that webtoon so bad i guess) has amber respond to barnabas saying that humans are weak with "but we are still alive by our own strength", and saying that collei can deny the glory of barbatos but she'll show her the beauty of mondstadt. kaeya and his whole khaenri'ah thing. there is so much meat there to chew on.

but the problem with a lot of the in game writing (but not all of it because hoyo jumps from highs to lows like its a sport to them) is that it isn't enough for them to take away a characters fangs. they leave them all with gums. it isn't enough for kaeya's questionable methods to suddenly disappear, they've gotta throw his passive aggressive jabs at diluc out, they've gotta throw his actual teasing out, they've gotta throw it all.

it wasn't enough that amber was already a nice character. she was described first and foremost as passionate, and they wanted her cheerful instead. so you don't get her being suspicious of anyone, or her being more dry (in terms of tone, not writing quality) like in razor's story quest (with her 'don't do anything stupid', her accusing paimon of getting into weird mushrooms, etc.). now it's just Baron Bunny Good Hunter My Friend Eula Good Hunter Sticky Honey Roast from Good Hunter Baron Bunny Heehee I'm so glad we met! Ignore my line about wanting to see how far the rabbit hole goes with you i'm only here for Good Hunter. hoyo's characters were made of their details and those details are gone

her defining character conflict is gone because suddenly her grandpa is eula's mentor. because she needs to be linked to a 5-star inextricably. sure, eula could've been the last one looking for her grandpa without having ever met him just because it means something to amber, something that would've actually shown her heart of gold rather than having amber or collei tell us about it, and also would've added a layer to their dynamic. but that would've left it as a conflict with amber's character. and there cannot be a character outside of the hoyoverse assigned Duo

she was there for the entirety of razor's story quest and invites him to stay in the city at the end, but when they needed a knight of favonious to give razor a gift during weinlessefest...sucrose and noelle. and amber's only appearance was an optional one where she was of course very mellow, and flustered over eula paying for her meal.

i mentioned her being written out of a scene in shadows amidst snowstorms. during the beginning joel (the kid) is left with amber, running off to i think climb a tree. the traveler leaves to fuck around with albedo. the cave scene. eula shows up to confront albedo about leading joel into the ice wastes. there is no mention of amber having passed joel off to anyone, there is no mention of joel having wandered off and amber somehow not caring, there is no amber noticing something's up with evilbedo and telling eula about it (again: something that would actually make them interact). amber's next appearance is showing up with bennett in the next quest. there is no mention of having been with joel. she continues not noticing anything wrong despite the favonious warbow description claiming outriders are trained to sense and notice danger. this is not mentioned as a "woah, fakebedo sure was a good fake!" either. they talk about how often her and eula eat at good hunter together. eula protects her during the avalanche and makes the group stop so she can rest. she goes "wow that's crazy" after the reveal. they damsel in distressed her ass.

of her few and far between, mostly optional windblume rerun appearances she is apart from eula for one brief one right at the beginning. her reunion with collei which is a handful of lines, unless the actual reunion was off-screen i cannot remember. collei spends the entire event bonding over being sooo shy with sucrose (who has a personality and lore all her own that would make for a great hangout so i'm not sure why hoyo only has her slot into the weirdest places) and then collei is redirected into being another eula hanger-on when she isn't the found family daughter of the sumeru crew. I also don't like what they did with collei & cyno's dynamic outside of their voicelines about each other/character stories. i also think they mangled cyno's personality badly. thoughts for a different post though

outside of those she has an appearance in the cat event which was. fine*. she has dialogue during the one tcg event (both optional. by the by.) which the wiki doesn't have but i DO (because i am NORMAL about that character) and it's only 5 lines but it's fine. she has a brief appearance in a picture event where she says she's SOOO embarassed about how she was suspicious of you at the beginning and a brief appearance in the food event where she's eating dinner in liyue with eula and talks about how she invited eula over for her grandpa's cooking all the time. there are three (i counted) lines where she mentions her and her grandpa without eula though which is the closest we get to a follow-up on anything about her. she also says it's like they're eating at good hunter. the fun thing about reducing a character to one trait is it has a way of making you dislike that trait. That restaurant is a plague to me. *another good hunter mention + sticky honey roast + they apparently forgot amber is canonically extremely bad at cooking because paimon celebrates amber saying she's gonna personally cook them sticky honey roast. but they actually reference the fact that she's employed as a scout and eula isn't there

and it's so annoying to see. because her personality and the personality that eula actually does have, in her voicelines, not that hoyo likes to show it either, would've made for a significantly better dynamic anyway. and amber being allowed to exist outside of that dynamic would have made it better anyway. and eula actually being worked into the mondstadt cast rather than just standing there while amber and her mini-me tell you about her heart of gold would have made for a better character. and an improvement to the character dynamic they are trying to force.

but you don't get amber anymore. you get half of a ship. you don't get kaeya, you get found family brother. you don't get collei, you get shy girl found family. because hoyoverse can let these characters exist outside of their boxes and everything will be better for it. but why do that when you can have kokomi show up in simulanka for no reason other than spitting in the face of the people holding out hope that her whole orobashi thing will be explained. isn't kaeya such a silly teasing brother. have some mediocre furniture Seriously if hoyo's gonna fuck my favorites over can i get better furniture out of it i'm sick of paper mache

at the end of the day. 1. in kaeya's inner dialogue during his whole stabbing a 12 year old thing he refers to amber as "our intuitive rabbit" and that is such an endearing thing to say when you are about to murder a 12 year old in front of said intuitive rabbit. he needs a level of therapy that teyvat hasn't invented yet. peak character and 2. one of amber's voicelines has her saying that she joined the knights because of her grandpa (also a point for the "She Could've Been A Diluc Paralell") and that she stayed because of jean. What do you mean stayed because of jean. Why is that never elaborated on.

last post complaining about genshin's writing for the month Anyway i think blorbofication happening in canon is the best way i could describe a lot of the problems i have with it ex. kaeya's relationship with diluc (or klee) is almost the only focus we get on him now, other than his brief appearance in the sumeru archon quest which was just saying his backstory basically with very little actual reaction or characterization on his part OR dainsleif's (also a problem i have in the albedo homunculus reveal in shadows amidst snowstorms). i haven't done his hangout because i. don't care enough to sit through an hour for each route with the quality of content hoyoverse puts out but looking at the ending options i feel like. they missed the opportunity to expand on things we already had for kaeya in favor of Oh he babysits klee! Oh albedo is here! Spend money to pull albedo!Venti cameo! What do you mean him and amber have a complicated dynamic. What do you mean he's apparently beloved by the elderly of mondstadt and the one who wraps up all the incidents there. What do you mean bennett trusts him as an omniscient big brother according to his official cn character profile. We made him talk to diluc again isn't that enough kaeya for you? and it sucks because kaeya feels like a rubik's cube with an onion's layers and like one of their best character personalities in content where he's actually kaeya and not just diluc's brother who is sad and also pretty! we never see anything about his relationship with jean, who he is the Most Trusted Aide of, or mondstadt at large! because every day we get closer to fanon kaeya being canon kaeya and it's just. You can have canon kaeya and fanon kaeya will follow but if fanon kaeya is at the forefront you're just immediately losing all that depth and it's going nowhere

#seashell resonance #this is like 2500+ words i feel like i need to issue you a formal apology. i've been haunted by the black fire incident being ignored #for years now #i picked kaeya as an example in the original post because i felt like he was a pretty clear and concise example of hoyoverse's refusal to #engage with their characters on an actual character level rather than fitting them into a box on behalf of the fans (because god forbid #the fans pick what box they want their guy to go in. or actually like their fav as a whole. insert hoyo's 85th meme reference in dialogue.#insert meta joke in amber's tcg dialogue. here's your trope. buy our characters)#i didn't expect it to resonate with the kaeya enjoyers. delighted to see it though #good to know that these are writing decisions that are in the game that people can see and i haven't just lost the plot #in conclusion. god i miss jean. and the types of jokes that cyno makes are reflective To Me of hoyoverse's flanderization #he wasn't a dad joke guy someone out there has to believe me HE WASN'T A DAD JOKE GUY #hey actually on the topic of hoyo ignoring attempted murder. fun fact about the shadows amidst snowstorms fakebedo fight scene #amber aims a flaming arrow straight at his head BEFORE he's revealed as an impostor?#close enough to a kaeya parallel i guess #also while im tacking things i forgot on the tags. in her weekly challenge tcg dialogue amber says that #kaeya said the trick to winning was to memorize all the cards #which means that kaeya and her have talked about tcg before OR he taught her how to play. OR my personal interpretation #he showed up while she was playing and backseat card gamer'd the entire time #i feel like a lot of this wound up using amber as an example but she's 1. an egregious one 2. connected to kaeya and collei by the whole #webtoon conflict #it may only be connected to me though. so sorry. i hope this gets any point across #namely that hinging characters together doesn't do favors for either of them OR their relationship #also i wish we got to see lisa and kaeya interact more???#with how lisa talks to diluc in the webtoon + her convincing kaeya to go shake him down for wine during weinlessefest #+ how often they used to just be hanging out in promotional art + their personalities #+ lisa knowing everything and everybody's business apparently #anyway “isn't sure where she stands with him now” is a description for amber and kaeya's dynamic that is going to stick with me #until the end of my days. thank you for that one

61 notes · View notes

junkissed · 1 month ago

Text

the first snow

★ | member — joshua x gn reader ★ | genre — fluff, a little angst, hurt/comfort, exes to lovers ★ | word count — 1.3k ★ | synopsis — you think of joshua every time it snows. but does he think of you, too? ★ | warnings — none; no physical description of reader ★ | notes — based on the song by exo! it still hasn't snowed here yet but this song came on and i was inspired to write something :) if you liked this please remember to reblog and let me know in the tags/replies how you liked it! happy december!

you always think of joshua when it snows.

something about the soft, silent flakes just reminds you of him. but only the fresh kind of snow, the gentle dusting of white on the ground and the chill in the air that makes you want to snuggle up with a cup of hot cocoa. the kind that makes you feel like you're living inside a snow globe, a moment behind a glass bubble, frozen in time. that kind of snow is your favorite, when you're indoors watching it from the comfort of your home.

now, while you're laying in bed watching the flurries outside your window covering the world in a blanket of white, he's all you can think about.

the first time it snowed with him, you were in bed just like this. except then it had been early in the morning, when the sun hadn't risen yet but the moonlight reflected off the snow and illuminated the night. the world had seemed brighter then.

“baby,” he'd mumbled your nickname in your ear, his deep morning voice still laced with sleepiness, yet you can hear the excitement hiding inside his words. “wake up. it's snowing.”

“i'll see it in the morning,” you groan, burying your head in the pillow. but you don't let his arms move from around you, his chest firmly pressed against your back keeping you surrounded in warmth beneath the covers. he's always been like your personal heater, especially in the winter.

he whines and nuzzles his nose against the crook of your neck, his breath warm on your skin as he whispers. “please? c'mon, darling.”

you sigh and summon the last of your energy to lift your head, and as soon as you do he swoops in to kiss your cheek, tickling your face with the smile on his lips. in the dark you can barely see the snow swirling outside, but it fills you with the same sense of calm you always feel around him, and you can't help but smile back.

“see? it looks so pretty.” joshua grins, kissing you again. “just like you.”

the fresh snow still reminds you of him, but now so does the old snow. the half-melted snow, the kind that's started to seep into the cracks. the kind that doesn't go away easily, mixing itself with twigs and rocks and dirt until it's no longer a pretty shade of white, warm and comforting. no, this kind is harsh and bitter, cold without any of the beauty to mask the reality of its nature. cold like day-old ice covering the ground, dark patches that you can't always see until you've already slipped and fallen.

the knock on your door comes as you're still trying to drag yourself out of bed and do something to take your mind off him.

you finally manage to pull your gaze away from the window, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. the sound of your slippers against the floor only makes the room seem even smaller, and even with the lights on the house feels dark tonight, your christmas tree still bare. you couldn't bear to decorate it alone this year.

you open the door, and simultaneously everything you'd dreaded and hoped for is standing in front of you, covered in snow.

“joshua?”

“hi,” he laughs awkwardly. even with the clear tension his eyes still sparkle the same way they always do, the way you so dearly missed. “how have you been?”

all you want to do is jump into his arms, but instead you keep your feet rooted in place. “what are you doing here?”

“i… don't know.” he gives you a weary smile, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. he's quiet for a long moment as you wait for him to explain, trying to come up with the words to say. “my car broke down a couple blocks away, and my phone died before i could call a tow. i didn't know what else to do.”

“so you think it’s a good idea to show up at my doorstep in the middle of a snowstorm?” you can't keep the bite in your words as a gust of wind blows into your house, and joshua winces.

“as good a time as any, to tell you i'm sorry.”

you release a breath, a cloud of fog escaping into the air in front of you. he must be freezing, standing outside wearing just the coat you'd given him on your first christmas together. a part of you is surprised he even still has it, but nothing surprises you anymore when it comes to him. you wonder whether he notices you're still wearing the pajamas he got you.

“it's been a year, joshua.”

he exhales, looking down at his feet as he crosses his arms. “i know. i regret it every day, i shouldn't have let it go that long.” he finally lifts his eyes, rocking back and forth on his feet. “i'm not expecting anything. i just… i missed you. i had to see you.”

you chew on your lip, and silence falls between the two of you. you can see the snowflakes sticking to his hair, soft white flakes slowly melting, and you have to fight your every instinct not to reach out and ruffle his hair for him like you always did.

finally you step out of the doorway, waving him inside, and with a relieved sigh he wipes his boots on your outdoor mat.

“listen…” he swallows as you close your front door behind him, slipping his shoes off and following you into the living room. “i know i left at a bad time. i was stupid. i would have done everything different if i knew i'd lose you. that’s not what i wanted, not at all.”

you nod, crossing your arms over your chest in silence. you don't reply.

“my mom keeps asking when you're coming over for christmas.” he starts to say something else, but you interrupt before he can get that far. you don't want to have to tell him how much you missed spending the holidays with his family.

“you could've called.”

“would you have picked up?”

you look away from him, focusing on a spot on the floor. you don't want to admit it, because it means admitting you still haven't moved on. but you've never been able to lie to him, not even now. “yeah.”

his expression softens like he wasn't expecting your answer, but you don't see it. you don't want to meet his eyes. you don't know if you can.

“it's snowing,” joshua says quietly, taking a small step towards you. you don't move.

you hum, but you still haven't looked back up at him. “i can see that.”

“you used to love it when it snowed.”

“i still do.”

he takes another step. “so do i.”

somehow, you know he's aware neither of you are talking about the weather anymore. the house falls quiet again and you exhale, trying to hold yourself together. you're almost glad he never called, because you don't know if you'd have been able to do this over the phone.

joshua slowly lifts his hand to cup your cheek, gently guiding your chin up to finally look at him. his voice is soft when he finally speaks, that familiar quiet whisper like he used to. “can we try again?”

you don't want to look at him, but you have to. there's so much you've wanted to tell him, so much you've wanted to say over the past year, but nothing comes. you've missed your best friend, the way he makes you laugh, the way he makes you feel.

the first snow doesn't feel the same without him.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, please reblog or leave a comment or an ask! it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! i put a lot of time, love, and effort into my writing, so feedback is really appreciated and motivates me to keep posting :) thanks for reading!!

taglist — located in the replies

330 notes · View notes

azrielbrainrot · 10 months ago

Text

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 4

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: Rhysand calls for a meeting so you and the rest of the Inner Circle can decide what to do next. Azriel stands by your side every step of the way.

Warnings: Angst (not that bad)

Word Count: 6680

Notes: This chapter was actually trying to fight me. I'm still not sure how I feel about it. Hope you enjoy!

Part 3 ○ Part 5

The days were blurring together the longer you stayed in this room. You've long since memorized the golden stripes and swirls beautifully decorating the navy walls, counted the teardrop-like glittering stones hanging from the small chandelier. You've gone through every closet and box in this room as well. Unsurprisingly, the room was almost empty, but you weren't looking through it to find any information anyway, you'd really done it out of boredom, and admittedly some curiosity.

You knew you couldn't complain about your treatment in this house, you'd never heard of a prisoner being treated to home cooked meals and expensive clothes. The House had even brought you books and journals in case you wanted to read or write, and Azriel brought you little treats from the bakeries in town - things you suspect he already knew you liked. He also kept you company every chance he got, even if it meant simply sitting together in silence. You didn't go a day without seeing him. But it was hard to focus on romance novels, chocolate cupcakes or even the captivating hazel eyed male when your entire reality was shattering around you.

The day after you met the High Lord and Lady, Azriel had found you snooping through the few clothes left behind by Feyre, and that same night he dropped off what he called some of your old belongings - some clothes and jewelry so you didn't have to borrow anything else from the High Lady. Everything was neatly folded and carefully arranged, it seems Azriel was extremely meticulous about how to store his late wife's belongings. He told you he's barely allowed himself to touch them in fear of ruining anything.

The clothes had since lost your scent, even if put away in a closed box it would be impossible for it to linger after a century. Still, you knew these were your things, somehow you could feel it deep inside you. You hadn't told Azriel about this, scared of getting his hopes up.

There was nothing personal in the box, Azriel was probably reluctant in letting you see them in case it overwhelmed you and triggered any more painful reactions, but there was enough for you to get a sense of who you were before.

It was clear she lived a happier and much more fulfilled life than yours. The clothes were all beautiful, if a little outdated. They came in all sorts of colors and fabrics, but even if you still liked them now, you know you'd never buy something like this for yourself.

Working at the guild, you had to prioritize functionality. You didn't have many personal belongings, you traveled a lot for missions and had to keep hidden, never staying in the same place for longer than a couple of months at a time. Your clothes reflected this, you prefered to wear pants or even your armor since you never knew when you'd be called for a mission or attacked.

You always had to be ready to drop everything at any moment so there was no use getting attached to anything or anyone. Even your favorite dagger was simply the model you've found works best for you, and you can get it anytime from different blacksmiths. The small hoops currently in your ears are the only jewelry you actually own and it's more of a way to keep the holes open for when you have to do undercover missions in which you might need to dress up.

There was no time or place for getting pretty clothes that made you feel good or buying a nice pair of earrings for the sake of it. Even less for making friends. You were living an empty life, something you always had a hard time coming to terms with, but that seems impossible to accept now that you know what you could have had, what you used to have and was taken from you.

Not being able to even trust your own memories affected you more than you'd ever admit, knowing things you considered unquestionable facts before that night were all made up. You've had to rely on what Azriel tells you and your own intuition to try and fill in the gaps. Your body seemed to be giving you clues, nudging you in the right directions but it only left you beyond frustrated that you could feel like all the answers were on the tip of your tongue but not being able to put your finger on it.

From what you've gathered, the night you disappeared from the Night Court corresponds with the mission in which you almost died, meaning someone in the guild - your handler, if your suspicions are correct - must have found you and brought you in. It's safe to say that, aside from a few lies and omissions here and there, your memories since that night can be trusted. But everything before that was all a lie, over a century of your life was nothing more than a made up story.

A burning feeling behind your eyelids has you forcefully shaking out your thoughts. You can't let yourself get consumed before you even find out what exactly happened, before you can get your revenge. And you refuse to cry in this room where anyone, especially Azriel, could walk in at any moment and see you in such a state. If you had to pick one helpful thing the guild taught you, it was how to handle your emotions.

You knew the High Lord was making good on his promise, knew that Azriel was working to help you as well. He'd only ever left your side to look into any information you could give him about the guild, though your knowledge was limited. You weren't a high ranking member and they were more than careful. You didn't know anything about the other members, as much as they didn't know anything about you.

Still, you weren't used to waiting around while everyone else did all the work and it took them over a week to schedule a new meeting with you, where you hopefully will learn more about this whole situation and what they intend to do with you. It feels like they're keeping you in the dark, something you knew you'd also do in their place, but that has left you feeling nothing but frustrated and worthless.

That meeting was happening in less than an hour and anticipation was eating away at you. Azriel promised he was going to take you to the office, letting you use him as a safety line as you've done so often these days.

Aside from the welcome information and decisions you hope would be talked through, you were also just excited to leave this room for a few hours at least. Only being able to feel the wind through an open window was getting old, and the city below this house felt like it was almost calling to you at this point, but you were too scared of seeming too interested since you didn't know if they'd find it suspicious. Just because the High Lord left the room on a friendlier note doesn't mean he'll trust you completely after what you've done.

You were technically allowed out of the room, free to walk around the House, with Azriel's supervision of course, but after your first attempt you decided it wasn't worth the trouble.

It had been mostly a miscalculation on your part. You were so consumed with your problems and with finding some sort of distraction that you almost forgot Azriel wasn't the only one you knew before, didn't stop to think what reaction they all would have to you.

Azriel asked you to join him for breakfast downstairs as he usually did, trying to get you to move around and talk with the other residents of the House. You accepted, tired of being in the stuffy room and curious to meet the General and his mate, who you've sometimes felt around the House and heard so much about from Azriel.

The atmosphere turned painfully awkward as soon as you entered the dining room with the shadowsinger at your side, making the other residents of the house look up to meet your eyes, surprised you had left the room. It wasn't long before Cassian stormed out, barely making an excuse on his way out after getting a good look at you, his mate following right behind him.

You ended up eating breakfast alone with Azriel, the same way you would have if you'd stayed in your room like you always did instead. Except now you couldn't take the general's haunted expression out of your mind. It truly had looked like he'd seen a ghost. Maybe he did.

Azriel apologized to you on his behalf, even though it wasn't his or Cassian's fault, and you're almost positive there was some sort of fight between them, though you hope not too severe. You'd hate for Azriel to get into arguments with his family over you. He didn't invite you downstairs again after that, simply joining you in your room whenever he could. The reminder of how caring the shadowsinger has been with you almost brings a smile to your lips.

“I'll make you fall for me again.”

Those words haven't left your mind since that night. You've never had anyone look at you with so much love in their eyes, and tell you something so bold with such conviction.

You're not sure you deserve it, and you're terrified you'll never remember him because you know this version of you can't ever be compared to the one in his memories. Even if you end up regaining your memories, it's impossible for things to truly go back to how they were. It's been too long and you've changed too much. The both of you know this.

You haven't actually talked about his or your feelings since that night, but it's clear that he still loves you, well he loves the female he once knew anyway, you're not so sure you're even that similar to her aside from your appearance. It doesn't feel fair to let him dote on you, knowing he's in love with a version of you that will never come back, knowing that, even with the fluttering of your heart, your feelings for him don't come close to his.

It makes you feel like you're taking advantage of him, how he's so dedicated to taking care of you and to restoring your memories, even trying to find the people who hurt you, while to you he's a stranger. Even if an extremely handsome stranger whose company you enjoy a lot, who makes you smile and even laugh despite the precarious circumstances you've found yourself in, who makes you believe you can get through this.

You can't deny you have a reaction to him either, every soft touch feels like lightning running through your veins, and every whisper of your name has goosebumps spreading all over your skin. Your body obviously still remembers how it feels to love him and to be loved by him in return, but the butterflies in your stomach don't even come close to the depth of his feelings for you. It's glaringly obvious that Azriel would do anything for you, even going as far as letting you stab him the very first night you met and brushing it off when you tried to apologize during this week.

Truthfully, falling for Azriel sounds like the easiest thing in the world, but you don't think you'd ever feel like you deserve him.

The shadows in the room start shifting ever so slightly as if reading your thoughts - something Azriel has assured you they can't do - a sign that their singer is approaching.

You put down the book you never even started and hop down from the window sill you had been sitting on for most of the afternoon, waiting for him to knock softly at the door like he always did, letting you prepare for his arrival or deny his company if you so wished. Anticipation was buzzing at your skin the longer you waited so you opened the door for him as soon as his knuckles met the dark wood, catching him off guard with his hand raised.

You can't help but smile at his wide eyes. Surprising the feared Spymaster of the Night Court has to be a hard feat to accomplish and the fact that you just did it so effortlessly makes you revel in his expression for a moment. He offers you a small smile of his own but you can immediately tell something is holding him back.

He hasn't really given you any information about their research or the guild, simply letting you know that they were working as hard as they could on it. You knew the High Lord still had his reservations about your presence in his court so it only made sense for them to keep their cards close to their chest until they knew more about the situation. You suppose he also wanted to see if any of the leads you gave Azriel on the guild actually turned out to be helpful, a last test to see if you were being truthful.

So you wouldn't be surprised that the Inner Circle had a meeting among themselves before bringing you in, one it seems like Azriel just came from, but his expression is making your anticipation steadily turn into nerves.

“Are you ready?”

Even with the lump that has lodged itself in your throat, you nod and try to give him a pleasant smile. You've been waiting for answers and you're finally going to get them, even if it feels like your heart is threatening to give out.

You quickly turn back into the room to slip on your shoes, before looping your arm around the one he offers, ever the gentlemale. He guides you through the painting covered hallways, most of which you haven't walked through before.

As you approach the room your nerves get the best of you. There are a lot more people in the office than you thought there'd be, you can hear their mismatched heartbeats from here, feel their suffocating presences. One you can distinctively recognize is the General's, it reminds you of his reaction in the dining room, how it seemed to hurt him just looking at you.

You didn't think the entire Inner Circle would be in attendance, figured that it would only be the ancient one, the High Lord and Lady aside from you and Azriel. You'll likely have to reveal more about yourself than you'd be comfortable with in any other situation, including things you're not proud of, things you know they'll judge you for, they'll judge the female they once knew for.

Azriel noticed your body tensing, your steps getting slower and the apprehension rolling off you in waves as your thoughts soured. He stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder, meeting your unfocused eyes.

Seeing the worried look on his face makes you take a deeper breath, willing your mind to focus on what's important right now and let your fears stay locked inside you. Thinking of it as another mission the guild sent you on, you've put your life on the line numerous times, you can get through a simple meeting.

You feel a familiar mask of indifference fall onto your face, the mask of a killer the guild made sure you wore almost every day of your life, but before you can rid your mind of emotion, Azriel grabs onto your hand, intertwining your fingers together, and bringing it up to his lips. He leaves a soft kiss on your skin, one that sends chills down your spine, though it's the look in his eyes that makes you stop.

You're not alone. For the first time in your life, at least in the life you remember, you're not alone. He's going to be next to you for every step of the way. You don't need to resort to assassin tactics. The blank mask was something you didn't have a choice but to use, to protect yourself from the things you'd seen, from the things you feel. But here you're allowed to delve into your emotions, to stay true to them.

Azriel gives you a small smile and lowers your hand away from his lips, proud of whatever determination showed on your face. He lets go of you, making you feel the absence of his warmth immediately, fingers twitching as if trying to reach out to his comfort on their own.

As soon as you walk into the room all eyes turn to you. You had been right to assume everyone was here. You let your eyes wander around the room briefly, noting the familiar and new faces, before settling back on Rhysand's, the reminder of the excruciating pain you've felt the last time you saw him an obvious weight on your mind.

You'd seen them all before except for the blonde sitting on the sofa by the window, her brown eyes were wide, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. You know that was Morrigan, the High Lord's cousin, and from what Azriel has told you, one of your once closest friends. Apparently she'd tried to come talk to you but it so happened to be on the day after you went down for breakfast and you denied it without a second thought when Azriel brough the option up. You wonder if that had been too harsh but you weren't sure you could handle a repeat of the Cassian situation.

Feyre and Morrigan are the only ones who attempt to throw a greeting smile your way but you can't bring yourself to respond, acutely aware of the tension in the air, eyes never straying from the High Lord's. Choosing to focus on the elephant in the room.

“I trust your stay has been enjoyable,” Rhysand muses as he points to the chair across from his desk, urging you to sit as if this were a simple business meeting. As ridiculous as the idea sounds, it does something to loosen your muscles and the snort that escapes Cassian lifts some of the tension.

“Yes, the House has been making sure of it,” you sit on the chair across from his desk, not daring to look away from him and the High Lady. He releases a simple hum at the answer, but you're too anxious for small talk. “Have you found a way to get my memories back?”

“In a way,” he offers, leaving you with more questions.

Thankfully, Amren fills up the silence in his place. “The spell suppressing your memories is the work of witches. Daemati can enter anyone's mind and make them forget certain memories but if someone had simply rewritten your memories then Rhys would have been able to fix them.”

“Witches?” The thought was enough to send shivers down your spine.

“Witches use tools to strengthen their powers, to access magic they aren't privy to,” she continues, “It seems someone used a witch's tool to feign daemati powers and rewrite your memories, effectively warding them as well.”

“That's why you had such a strong reaction when I entered your mind.”

You were positive this had to be the work of a daemati. It had never crossed your mind that there could be something else at play.

“You can't undo the spell,” you conclude for them.

Witches have a completely different approach to magic than faeries. While your kind was gifted their magic by the Mother, witches have to resort to the kind of tools Amren mentioned. The resulting magic isn't organic and as such it comes with rules and drawbacks you don't experience as fae.

“We'll need to find the person responsible for it. They're the only one who can tell us exactly how to undo it,” Feyre says.

You bite your lip, your mind reeling with the information. You only have one suspect and the thought of not only finding him but also making him talk sounds beyond ridiculous. He also hasn't shown any hint that he could use witch magic. As far as you know he's as much high fae as you are, but you can never be too certain when it comes to one the best assassins in the world.

“Azriel says you can only identify one member of the guild,” the High Lord continues, barely giving you any time to process.

You nod. “I had direct contact with a few other assassins when I was called for backup but never knew their names or even what some of them look like without disguises.”

“Our only option is finding your handler, but Azriel hasn't been able to find any tracks even with the information you've given him,” Feyre stands closer to the desk now, her hand leaning on the dark wood.

“I'm not surprised. Norris is one of the most prominent members of the guild, I'm not sure how old he is exactly but I suspect he's been working there for close to a millenia.”

“Azriel is extremely good at his job,” Rhysand tilts his head slightly, as if offended for his Spymaster.

“I know.” From the briefings he's given you, he has spies all over the world aside from his shadows, who can listen and see things fae could never begin to imagine. Even with your hints, he's come closer to the guild in a week than entire countries have in decades, perhaps even centuries. “But we've been trained to kill and hide from people like him, like you. And Norris has been doing that successfully for a very long time.”

“We…” He taps his nails on the table, the sound echoing across the room. “So you're an assassin then,” the distaste clear on the High Lord's face.

You hadn't said the words out loud but everyone had probably guessed it the moment you walked back into their lives. The guild has made a name for themselves, and as much as some of your work consisted of spying or retrieving objects, most people came to the guild for mercenary jobs.

“Yes,” you confirm, forcing yourself to keep up the eye contact.

“An interesting career choice,” he muses, as if you had the pleasure of just choosing to become this monster.

The several pairs of eyes watching you intently were making you feel defensive, your temper rising up with it. It's easy to judge someone looking in from the outside. You'd been an assassin or training to become one ever since you could remember, which in reality wasn't your whole life like you thought before. Still, whether it was because you'd been taken in by the guild as a child or had your memories rewritten, you were thrown into it against your will and had since been stuck with no chance of an escape. Everyone has done things they're not proud of and you know fae in such important positions as these and as old as they are can definitely relate to this sentiment.

You weren't proud of it, far from it, but you didn't have a choice. And it's not your fault the female they knew before wouldn't do these things. It's not your fault that innocence and chance at being better she had were ripped away from you.

“Not everyone has the luxury of getting a court handed to them,” the venom drips out of your tongue, every word meant as a weapon.

You know this is a low blow, being aware of the circumstances in which Rhysand became High Lord, how he lost his whole family in one night. But if he wants cruelty, the assassin he keeps judging, you can certainly give it to them. Your bravado lessens when you feel the sharp intake of breaths around the room, most notably from the Illyrian by your side, where he still stands despite how tense his posture has become.

Rhysand's wings tighten against his body and his eyes narrow, finally letting go of the faux relaxed look he's presented you with. He takes a moment to answer you, likely leveling his temper or receiving soothing words from his mate.

“There was a time you wouldn't even dare to hurt an innocent.” This statement lacks the same bite as before, it gives way to disappointment, and it feels like a bucket of ice poured over molting lava. It cuts deeper than any amount of judgment he could have presented you with.

You straighten yourself in the chair, trying to not let it show how much this whole conversation is affecting you. “Well,” you lick your lip, now realizing how dry your mouth felt, “The only thing left from before is my body.”

His violet gaze finally becomes too much for you to bear, allowing yourself the respite of looking down at your hands. There are too many emotions swirling in his alluring eyes, even more felt around the room, the tension has become so thick you could barely breathe, couldn't even risk a look at Azriel in fear of what you'd find written on his face, terrified that the same disappointment lingered there as well.

“It's not,” the change in tone has you looking back up at him, meeting his gaze once more to find understanding reflected on it. And I can only imagine how you've been surviving through it all.

His echoing words make you pause, not being able to look away from him. It's only when wetness gathers in your eyes that you look back down, praying the room of perceptive fae don't notice how close you are to tears. You don't even remember the last time you cried, the last time someone extended you the kindness Rhysand just did, even after all the judgment.

Shadows start crawling up your legs, tentatively moving towards you as if asking permission to comfort you. You bite back a smile, keeping your tears at bay as you wonder if they moved of their own accord or if Azriel sent them to you. You relax your body, allowing them to twist and turn over your legs, mildly surprised that you can actually feel a ghost of a touch. You didn't think you could feel shadows.

You risk a glance at the shadowsinger in question, almost regretting it as you see the fondness reflected in his beautiful eyes as he watches his own shadows move across your skin. This must have been a regular occurrence before. You look away as soon as your gazes meet, not being able to bear the intensity in them in this room full of onlookers.

Unfortunately, your escape brings you back to facing the High Lord and Lady, who seem more than amused at your interaction with Azriel. The change in atmosphere from just a few moments ago almost gives you whiplash.

“You haven't told me what you plan on doing about the guild,” you try to keep your tone leveled, but looking at their reactions you're failing miserably.

“Finding your handler seems to be our best bet,” the smile on Feyre's face only falters a bit, the tension from before has almost dissipated. “Since he's the one who sent you here he might know who hired the guild and their motives for wanting the book.”

“You said he was the one who introduced you into the guild.” You nod at Rhysand. “It's possible he's the one responsible for your… accident.”

“I think so too,” you agreed, your hand moving up to touch the scar on your neck, “I've always been told this scar was the result of a failed mission, and that Norris had been the one to find me and take me to a healer.”

“We found the attackers not long after your death,” the general finally speaks up, cringing softly at the choice of word. His mate was quick to narrow her eyes at him, as if reprimanding him for mentioning it.

“He might not have actually cut my throat,” you shrug, trying not to linger in unpleasant thoughts. “He likely saw me after the attack and decided I'd make a good addition to the guild if I survived. I'm basically a ghost, that's perfect for an agent. I wouldn't be surprised if they'd done similar things before.”

“Either way, we need to find him.”

“Even if we do, I'm not sure he'll actually tell you anything.” Norris was one of the most respected members of the guild. His abilities far surpassed yours, he'd been the one to teach you most things after all. You've never been able to even sneak up on him so finding and capturing him alive already seemed hard enough, but making him cooperate and answer any of your questions was next to impossible. The Mother only knows how many fae have tried it and failed.

“He will,” Azriel stated. When you look into his eyes you can only see pure fury and determination written in them, leaving no space for any doubts. He stares into your eyes before adding, promising, “l'll make sure of it.”

Some of that confidence rubs off on you it seems, because your hesitation starts evaporating the longer you stare into his eyes. You've always been on your own, and as such you've only ever considered how you'd fare against your handler without backup. Between the famed Shadowsinger, the strongest High Lord in history, the Made Sisters, and everyone else in this room, your chances were exponentially higher. Escaping the guild doesn't feel like a pipe dream anymore.

“How do you want to find him?”

The High Lord rewards your determination with a smirk. “The only way to find someone like him is by making him search for us instead.”

“You want to use me as bait,”

“You can refuse,” Azriel assured. This explains his sour mood. You didn't think he'd agreed with this solution with the way he's been treating you so carefully, almost as if you're made of glass. You can't exactly fault him for it either, but the truth is you can't refuse. You don't know if you could ever find Norris with traditional tactics, or if the guild wouldn't send more assassins to the city, if they hadn't already.

“And keep living like this? Hiding without even knowing who I am?”

He searches your eyes, fear and vulnerability swimming in the hazel, but nods all the same. He told you he's dreamed of getting you back for a century, and thought it was something that would never come true, so it makes sense that he'd be hesitant on letting you put yourself in such a risky position. You know he understands why you need this though.

The meeting runs for a while longer, and by the time Rhysand was calling it a day the sun was already setting on the horizon, making way for the night to take over in all its glory, one that could only be fully appreciated in the Night Court.

As much as everyone seems to be warming up to you, letting go of the conflicted feelings towards having you back in these circumstances, you were extremely overwhelmed by the end. Talking to someone who knows you so intimately even though you don't have any recollection of it is a confusing experience. You could almost hear your mind screaming at you, begging for some peace and quiet.

The contrast between the Inner Circle and Azriel becomes clear in your mind. Your relationships were very different before but it's interesting to see that even when you don't have your memories, you feel so much calmer with him. That nagging feeling of being faced with something you've lost keeps rising up when they speak to you, but it doesn't come anywhere close to the myriad of emotions Azriel evokes simply by looking at you. And even if those emotions are more intense, you have a much bigger tolerance for them, as if your body would gladly accept any turmoil as long as you stayed in his company.

Just as you were about to leave the room, Rhysand invites you to join them for dinner. Everyone turns to you with expectant eyes before the words fully leave his mouth. They clearly planned it out together. This habit they have of speaking through each other's minds is one it might take a while getting used to.

You bite your lip, as you think of what to say. Cassian and Morrigan look particularly keen on the idea, it makes you feel a little relieved that the general isn't looking at you like a nightmare came true anymore, but you really don't think you can handle any more questions today, or to have them reminisce about your former relationships. You're not used to spending time with a lot of people in general, you'd go months without any sort of fae contact sometimes. You just want to go somewhere quiet, and you can only think of one person whose company would allow you to relax.

Making up your mind, you decline the invitation politely, trying to ignore the disappointment in their eyes as they bid you goodnight. This still feels like a huge improvement from where you stood with them just at the beginning of the meeting, that they'd want to keep you company when it felt like they were avoiding you this whole week. You might have gained some of their trust, and, to your immense shock, you trust them as well. It feels like a breath of fresh air after a century of not even trusting your shadow.

Maybe it's that feeling, or the immediate quiet that settles over you as soon as you walk into the empty hallway, maybe even the fact that you finally got some answers and even a plan, a chance at leaving the guild, something you never even dared to dream about, but it has you feeling a little indulgent. Your steps are noticeably lighter, and all the tension from before is now only a faint ache in your muscles.

“Azriel?” You look up at him with a smile, feeling it widen when he looks at you in answer. “Since I'm out of the room, can we go somewhere to watch the stars?”

The smile that takes over his face is blinding, it feels like it could rival the moon. It's fascinating how his beauty can still catch you off guard like this, even if you've been spending most of your time with him for an entire week.

“Of course,” he moves closer to you and takes your hand, pulling you into him, his eyes never straying from yours. It takes you longer than it should have to realize he was covering you both in shadows, too lost in his eyes to pay attention to your surroundings, how they've turned to black. He told you before that's how he winnows, though it can't be called that since he moves through shadows instead.

The light almost blinds you as his shadows disperse, giving way to a view you can't believe is real. The sky wasn't completely dark yet, stuck in the brief moments of twilight where you could still see the last rays of the sun illuminating the dark blue sky. And yet the stars were already twinkling in the sky, surrounding the full moon.

You can't help but gasp, forgetting about Azriel and moving to the edge of the roof, admiring the unforgettable view. Your eyes don't stray from it as you lean against the railing, long enough that the sun completely sets, and the streets become illuminated by faelights.

You had thought there was some sort of celebration when you first came here, but have since learned that every night is enjoyed to its fullest in the city of dreamers.

As some of your awe settles, you turn to look at Azriel as he too admires the city. His shadows had left him uncovered, choosing to scatter around what you now recognize as a training ground. You almost regret staring up at the sky for so long when you could have been reveling in his beauty this whole time.

His tan skin was glowing with the pale moonlight, eyes as bright as the stars when he looks down at you. You move closer to him almost unconsciously, as if you've been bewitched.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you sound breathless even to your ears. “The view is a lot more beautiful from up here.” Your bedroom window could never do this justice. If you looked up, it almost felt like you were walking on air, among the stars.

He turns to you fully, ignoring the captivating sight in favor of watching you. His face relaxes further as he takes you in, the smile on his lips growing and the air around you changing. He raises his scarred palm up to cup your face, whispering softly, “It can't ever compare to you.”

“That's cheesy,” you stutter, clearly taken aback by the sudden flirtatious tone.

He grins down at you, a mischievous look in his eyes, rubbing his thumb over the increasingly warmer skin of your cheek. “You're blushing.”

Azriel has been open with his feelings for you all week, making it clear that they haven't changed over the years, even with your absence from his life, but he has never been this brazen. None of the interactions you've had can be considered anything else than platonic, and even with sweet compliments and bashful admissions, he has never looked at you like this, like he truly believed just one second of looking at you was worth more than this unbelievable view.

“You know,” you start hesitantly, “We haven't actually tried everything.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to catch up to your train of thought. You can feel when he does because he tenses against you, and would have let go of your face if you hadn't placed your hand around his wrist, keeping him there.

“I think I've read it in a story before,” you lick your lips, feeling like lava is pumping through your veins when his eyes follow the movement, “Sometimes a kiss can be stronger than any magic spell.”

He leans closer to you slowly, looking into your eyes to search for any sign of discomfort. You can't be entirely sure what he finds in them, you can't feel much else but desire in this moment, but it has him clearing the rest of the way, both of your eyes closing as his lips finally touch yours softly.

A sigh escapes him when you press into him harder, needing to find out what he tastes like, what he feels like. His other hand comes up to cup your other cheek, holding you against him. You can feel him losing his restraint bit by bit, hands moving from your face to hold your neck, your waist, grip getting tighter with every stroke of his tongue against yours, a century of longing and raw passion melting into the kiss. Your own arms find their way around his neck, pulling him down, finally feeling the softness of his hair around your fingers. His chest is pressed against yours, close enough that you can feel his heart beating.

When you finally pull away from each other, you're both breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, eyes closed. You wonder how many times he's dreamed of this moment, of being able to taste you again after so long.

“Any memories resurfacing?” His voice is rough, deeper than you've ever heard it. It almost makes you hold back a moan.

“No,” you lick your lips, reveling in his taste, “but we can give it another try.”

His lips find yours as soon as the last words leave your mouth, more than happy to deliver. You might chastise yourself for giving in to temptation tomorrow, but in this moment nothing else matters. Not the guild, not your lost memories, not your mistakes. Right now there's only him, you and the stars as your witnesses.

taglist: @thisblogisaboutabook @chessebookgirl @going-through-shit @starcrossedsan @macimads @janebirkln @dr4g0ngirl @harrystyles2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @queensl1234 @lisanna2000 @starryhiraeth @shadowsaz @sakurafrost3-blog @evergreenlark @sisterjuliennes @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @historygeekqueen @writingcroissant @abysshaven @pablopascal @that-girl-reading @naturakaashi @tenshis-cake @sharknutz @isa1b2h3 @thehighlordishere @tarathia @sfhsgrad-blog @acourtofbatboydreams @starsandnightmares @cuethedepession @emryb @mybestfriendmademe @fxckmiup @adharanotfound @b0xerdancer @ervotica @aria-chikage @serendipityx150 @fanboyluvr @rogersbarnesxx @that-one-little-soybean @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @saltedcoffeescotch @astarlitsoul @bwormie @just-a-social-casualty-1 @sundayysunshine

(for some reason I couldn't tag some of you. check your settings because you might have tags disabled.)

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel fanfiction #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #divider by saradika

582 notes · View notes

the-kr8tor · 1 year ago

Text

You stay the night at Hobie's for the first time

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Synopsis: You sleepover at Hobie's houseboat.

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, FLUFF, smut implied.

My Masterlist

Inspired by this post

*I don't consent to having my work translated/published on other platforms*

Obsessing over the pimple on your forehead, you try to pop it in between your forefinger and thumb.

"Ughh" you grimace while staring at your reflection on Hobie's grimey mirror.

You glimpse at your form, you're wearing one of Hobie's numerous band shirts, after you accidentally spilled mouthwash on your pajama shirt, you asked to borrow one. You're giddy that you smell like him.

He joked that you spilled mouthwash on it on purpose just to wear his shirt.

"Stop it, you're gonna make it worse" Hobie says as he watches the disaster in front of him. He's lounging on his bed, arms tucked under his head. His dark jumper rides up a bit showing his toned stomach. His legs are properly tucked under the patchwork comforter.

"But it's bothering meee" you kick your legs like your throwing a tantrum.

"It doesn't even look that bad," Hobie pats the open space beside him "come to bed, lovey"

"Says the man who has clear skin even though you wash your face with the same soap you use on your body" You turn to face him, ignoring his exposed skin.

You've never seen him this relaxed before. He's a pretty laid back guy already, but this? His half-lidded eyes looking at you, paired with him in his comfortable non-spiky clothes– maybe you should come to bed.

"It's genetics, all natural, baby"

"It's actually au naturel" you cross your arms on your chest, hiding your uneven breathing.

"No, it's not"

"Yes, it is" you step forward.

"Nuh uh"

"Yea uh"

You stare at each other for a second.

"...C'mere" Hobie concedes defeat or else you would be at it all night. He takes his left arm from under him to reach towards you.

"Fine" you head towards the bed, your sea legs swaying when a small wave hits the houseboat. You crawl under the covers.

"Why are you so far, get over 'ere" he grabs the cover under you to drag you towards him, closing the already small distance. He's been waiting for this the entire day. He feels elated, he couldn't wait to finally cuddle with you,

You hoped he didn't notice the small distance you made, but alas he's a perceptive one who doesn't like admitting he likes cuddles. Truth be told, you're actually nervous spending the night with him for the first time, you're not expecting for something to happen tonight, but if something did happen you're prepared for it, kind of, sorta, maybe?

Not to mention, the houseboat is a little intimidating, like what if you get sea sick and puke all over his carpet, well you're floating on a river, but nonetheless the rocking motion could still give you motion sickness. Or what if you kick him off the bed while asleep, or you sleep walk and you fall overboard. Or what if–

Hobie pinches your nose, keeping his fingers around it. "Oi, where did you go?"

"Nuhn of yhor bhismes" you swat at his hand.

"Your eyes went glossy for a second, thought I lost you"

"I was actually thinking about your houseboat"

"And here I thought you were thinking 'bout me" he holds his arm out behind you, unsure if you're okay with the action.

Noticing his uncertainty, you swallow your shyness, you lean against his arm placing your head softly on his shoulder. Any doubt from Hobie is quickly washed away by your reaction. He pushes you closer to his warmth with the hand around your shoulder.

"What about the houseboat?" He stares at you while you play with a loose thread on his jumper.

"Like.. how'd you get it?" You absentmindedly twirl the thread around your fingers.

"Bought it off a bloke"

"That's it? No crazy or wacky story behind it?" You stare up at him suspiciously.

"Yes, there's no wacky story behind it" he mocks your word choice by copying your voice. "I needed a place, my friend's cousin's friend sold it at a cheap price. That's it, nothing madcap 'bout it"

"Hmm, Do you even know how to drive, wait no sail? Is it called sailing when it doesn't have sails? Nevermind you get what I'm talking about, do you know how to do that?" You ramble, he finds it adorable.

"Yes, how do you think I brought it here from Amsterdam?" He's now curious whether it's sail or drive.

You gasp, sitting up "See! There IS a wacky story behind it" you poke his chest playfully.

Hobie grabs your finger to stop you "There IS nothing wacky about it. Well-" he remembers something, you perk up "we had to dodge the coast guard, but that's about it"

"THE COAST GUARD?!" A huge grin blooming on your face.

"All right calm your beans" Hobie pushes your head back down lightly.

"How long did it take you to get back?" You snuggle closer to him.

"It would've just taken us 6-7 hours, but we had to hide from the coast guard so it took us about 10 hours"

"Who were you with?" You fight a yawn.

"Why? You jealous?" Hobie shakes you lightly, he wants to talk to you more.

"Why would I be jealous of your friend's cousin's friend?" You rub one of his unruly eyebrows, shaping the strands back into place.

Hobie chuckles. He wants to stay like this with you, sleep be damned.

"What do you want for breakfast?" A yawn escaping you. You situate yourself on his chest.

"You gonna cook for me?" Hobie holds on to you tighter.

"Hmm, if you're nice to me in the morning, yeah"

"What do you mean? I'm always nice to you"

"You say that as you're staring at my pimple" you start to close your eyes.

"Well, gorgeous, I'm not staring directly at it, I'm looking at you, you wear my shirt really well"

"Well, handsome," you tease him back "anything looks better when I wear it" you feel sleep taking you.

"You're right," Hobie whispers against your hair "I like my eggs sunny side up by the way"

"Hmm" a soft smile on your face.

Since you're wearing socks, with a sly smirk on Hobie's face, he slowly lifts up the leg hem of your pajama pants with his cold foot, once there's enough space, he quickly lays his ice cold foot on your leg.

"Ack! What- Hobie!" You shoot up from your position.

Hobie laughs loudly, you feel the houseboat shake lightly.

You playfully slap his chest.

"You!" Slap "Menace!" Slap

In one swift movement, he grabs your slapping hand, then he flips himself over you, his legs on your sides, caging you in.

You gasp at the weight above you, a wide smile blooming on your face.

"Hobie! You're too heavy!" Drowsiness is now completely gone.

He half kneels on your sides so he doesn't completely crush you.

"You're not allowed to sleep" Hobie leans slightly towards you, you can see his playful smirk illuminated by the moonlight.

"What do you mean I'm not allowed?! You invited me to a SLEEPOVER, you dork!" You gasp out as he's a few inches away from your face.

"Lemme guess you're the kind of person who falls asleep first in a sleepover? you're the dork here, sweets" he leans closer his lips ghosting over yours.

You close your eyes in anticipation. Instead of a kiss, you feel Hobie blow raspberries on your jaw.

"Ack! HAHAHAHAHAHA" your legs kicking up trying to stop him from tickling you.

Hobie pulls back breathlessly.

"Oh you're ticklish? Got it" he smirks devilishly. "Wonder where else you're ticklish?" Hobie tilts his head.

"No! Don't you dare, Hobart!" Your eyes widen when he winds up his arms to tickle your stomach, despite the threat you can't help but grin.

"Oh using my government name now, huh" Hobie tickles your sides relentlessly, your laughs echoing throughout the space.

"Okay! Okay! I'll stay up!" You say in between laughs.

He finally stops his attack, letting you breathe.

"Yeah?" He takes his tickling stance again.

"Yes" you giggle "please stop or I might piss my pants"

"Ooh kinky" he squeezes your cheeks together as you glare at him.

"Can you please kiss me already so we can properly cuddle like you wanted" you say with your squished lips.

Hobie chuckles "saw right through me, huh" he leans down finally giving your most awaited kiss.

He eases up from squishing your cheeks so you could kiss him back properly, you hold on to the back of his neck, grounding you.

Hobie pulls away, he stares at your wide eyes lovingly. You lift yourself up using his neck as leverage, quickly peppering his face with kisses, until he laughs with every peck.

You pull back, taking in his lovesick stricken face, his smile lopsided, eyes basically shaped like hearts. You're sure you mirror his expression.

"I should invite you more often" he lays back down next to you, arm wrapped around your torso, half of his body staying on top of you, his legs splayed over yours. Hobie relaxes immediately.

You crane your neck "yeah you should. I really love your home, babe" you rub his arm soothingly.

"Really? You're not sea sick?"

"I gotta be honest with you, I took a kwells tablet beforehand," you laugh.

"That's pretty smart" Hobie fights a yawn "you're really smart, love" he rubs the side of your neck.

"You're only saying that so I'll make you breakfast" you whisper, once you notice his eyes slowly close.

"No, you're really smart, and lovely, and a bloody good cook" he parks his head on the crook of your neck with a sigh.

You chuckle softly, pulling the covers up to his chin, you lay your head just above his.

You both fall asleep listening to each other's steady breathing with the houseboat rocking you both rhythmically.

A/n: I'm sorry that my last fic made y'all cry lmao, here's some fluff. As always thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️

*picture above is from pinterest*

#hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #spider punk #reblog reply #hobie brown #x reader #atsv fanfiction #spider man across the spider verse #the kr8tor's creations #hobie brown x gn!reader #spider punk x gn! reader #fluff #established relationship #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #fanfic #atsv x reader

2K notes · View notes

sylver-star · 8 days ago

Text

⭑.ᐟ First Date - Lee Seokmin x reader

genre: blurb, friends to lovers, fluff word count: 636 warnings: none rating: PG /SFW

Disclaimer: My works are fictional and do not reflect real-life situations, cultures, or individuals. All characters are purely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

You're doing your best to not fidget with your clothes, but it's hard when you're this nervous. A part of you wants to call him to tell you that you've suddenly gotten sick - but it wouldn't be nice to him, and you know you'd only end up regretting it. You've waited for this moment for a few years now. Waited might be the wrong term; hoped for is more like it.

When your best friend asked you out a few days ago, you were left speechless for long enough that he started apologizing and taking back his words. Seokmin is someone who's constantly afraid of making others uncomfortable, to the point of his own detriment. The only thing that could shut him up once he had started babbling, was a kiss. A long awaited, chaste, kiss.

Because of that kiss, you're now waiting for him to pick you up to go on your first date. You're pacing by the door when, at seven pm sharp, someone knocks. After a deep breath, you open the door only to be met with a bouquet of flowers.

"Are these for me?" Your eyes widen as you take the flowers in your hands.

Seokmin doesn't say anything, he only lingers by the doorstep and stares at you. You raise your brows at him, silently asking the question again. Now that the flowers are out of the way, you see that he's wearing the button-up you got him for his birthday last year - and the slacks that you practically begged him to buy because "they fit him like they were sewn onto his body". Still, he just keeps looking at you.

"Seok?"

"Sorry." He clears his throat. "I've literally been standing outside your door for five minutes to wait until the clock was seven, and I was thinking of what to say to you that entire time and still I got nothing..."

You break out into a big grin. "I've been standing here for the past five minutes too."

The two of you chuckle, letting go of some of the tension in the air. "Can I start over?" he asks.

"Sure... do you want these back too?" You hand him the flowers and he takes them back carefully.

You can't stop giggling as you close the door again, and you can hear him laughing on the other side. After waiting a second or two, Seokmin knocks again. You open the door, and he's holding the flowers in front of his face.

"I'm here to see Y/N," he says.

You gently pull at his arms to lower the flower from his face, seeing his beaming grin peek out from behind the bouquet. "Oh, hi!" he says.

"Hi." You giggle. "These are very pretty. Are they for me?"

"Why, yes, they are."

He hands them to you, and you take your chance to take his wrist to pull him closer and press a kiss to his cheek. Seokmin lets you take the flowers and puts one of his hands up to his cheek.

"Let me go put them in some water... come inside." You let him walk into your apartment, following you as you walk to your kitchen and get a vase.

When you turn to him again, he's leaning against the wall and still just watching you. You put the flowers in water and, with a giddy smile, walk back up to your date.

"Thank you, Seokmin," you say.

"I just thought you deserved something pretty... you know, something to match... you." He cringes at his own words and looks away from you.

"You think I'm pretty?" you ask, and he turns his head back to you.

"The prettiest." He takes your hand in his. "Ready to go?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, handsome."

That manages to make him flustered.

#seventeen #fluff #svthub #seokmin #dokyeom #svt #svt imagines #svt fluff #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom fluff #dokyeom imagines #dokyeom x you #svt dk #lee seokmin #seventeen fluff #syl says☆

138 notes · View notes

rogersideup · 10 months ago

Text

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter 6

Little Birdie

Series masterlist

Previous part: Rearview next part: Twinkles

Word Count: 7,800

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions and descriptions of sexual acts, anxiety, and sever depression.

One week.

Steve made it one whole week without you.

It was one of the longest weeks of his life.

Every day for seven days straight he needed Bucky to convince him not to text or call you. That conversation usually happened as Steve paced around his living room, while Bucky sat on his couch, threatening to get up and rip the phone out of his hands.

He couldn't even text you outside of work hours considering you blocked his number from being able to do so, but that still didn't stop the itch he felt to just see your name on his phone screen again.

Both boys were in agreement that Steve eventually should reach out and try to fix the damage that was done, because if your situation at the compound needed to get better just for the chance that you would stay, you at least needed your best friends back. But Bucky knew you deserved time and space away from all of the drama to really process it and figure out how you wanted it to end.

Bucky also knew a week of no contact with Steve would help the both of you stop fueling the fire. The harsh words would settle, reflecting back on the situation wouldn't feel as dramatic, and maybe now Steve would finally find the right words without the sight of you every day.

Plus, he would be damned if he let Steve have a conversation this serious with you over the phone.

Sure, both boys were extremely worried about you. There were a few times Bucky wanted to call and check up on you too, but he knew his own feelings shouldn't come before yours right now.

Meanwhile, the week did you wonders. You spent your days reconnecting with everything you used to love. Your favorite restaurants in the area, old friends you barely got to see now that you lived so far, the old yoga studio you attended 4 times a week, and seeing your family every day was healing in ways you didn't even know your heart could reach.

Filling the mornings and afternoons with everything you loved was important, but you knew better than to completely disregard the real issues at hand. So every night you'd go on a walk to the pretty park a few blocks from your childhood home, and meditate under the moon.

With the one airpod you had left, you'd let music shuffle and allow the lyrics to guide your thoughts. Some were a little to sad to bare, others were so on the nose you couldn't help but to listen over and over again while allowing the words to comfort you like a hug you've really been needing.

You and Steve were still friends and shared a playlist on your favorite music streaming app. Every night at the park you could see he was listening to sad music, and knew he could see you doing the same. Dramatic? Maybe. Were the sad melodies making you feel understood and less alone? Absolutely.

Eventually he got brave and while you sat under the moon and admired the stars, your headphones read the newest notification.

Steve Rogers added new song to playlist: Little Freak by Harry Styles.

You sighed, but against your better judgement you let the song play to understand what he was trying to say to you. Though the song was familiar to you, all this music was new to Steve. He loved listening to all your favorite artists and bonding over the modern music. The message was loud and clear when you heard it.

"I was thinking about who you are, your delicate point of view, I was think about you. I'm not worried about where you are or who you will go home too, I'm just thinking about you. I disrespected you, jumped in feet first and I landed too hard. Broken ankle, karma rules."

You knew deep down that you shouldn't give him the satisfaction of a response. He didn't deserve to be invading your sacred space, he knew how much music meant to you. But on the other hand, he deserved to know how much he hurt you. If he got to send you a message through song, you deserved to speak your mind too.

So you added a new song to the playlist as well. My Tears Ricochet by Taylor Swift.

"Even on my worst day, did I deserve babe, all the hell you gave me? Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you till my dying day. I didn't have it in myself to go with grace. You're the hero flying around saving face. If I'm dead to you why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed? Look at how my tears ricochet."

After that, your phone was silent and nothing else was added to your playlist. You could see he listened to the song, then once it was over he was no longer active on the app.

You'd usually let your mind really reflect on what happened and what you wanted going forward, but you found that Steve took up most of your thoughts, and what to do about your career always came second to him.

It seems like your Mom and Dad's advice always leaned towards joining the Avengers. But why wouldn't it? All they ever wanted for you was to find something you love and run as far as you could with it.

Jane would've preferred you leave the field completely. You knew the nature of your job left her in a permanent state of unease about your safety, but you always reassured her that you were in good hands so you'd be okay.

Nathan was a little more understanding that not everything was so black and white, so he played devils advocate for all sides, and of course Luca wanted you to join the Avengers.

Hearing all of their perspectives was helpful to see the bigger picture, but at the end of the day, only Jane and Nathan knew the extent of what happened. You kept the whole Steve and Bucky situation away from your parents for the same reason you kept it away from Luca, you didn't want to ruin the illusion of a superhero for them.

Also.... Your parents really didn't need to know the nitty gritty on your escapades with the winter soldier.

All good things came to an end, especially having your whole family under one roof. After a whole week together, Jane, Nathan, and Luca had to go home to get back to their own life, while your mom and dad left to go on a few day vacation they had planned months ago. So it left you, and the family dog, Rocket, you happily agreed to take care of in their absence.

It was actually kind've nice to have time to yourself. You filled the day with morning yoga, brunch with a friend, some journaling and therapy, and a much needed nap. As the sun went down, you threw a toy around the house to try and get Rocket's energy out but it didn't help much. So after you cooked and ate dinner, you grabbed a tennis ball and walked him a few blocks to the park.

Luckily he was allowed off leash, and there was one other dog there for a little while that took an immediate liking to him, so they ran around and tuckered each other out while you sat on the grass and watched.

Eventually his little friend left, so it left just the two of you, the tennis ball, and the twinkling stars above head.

As lame as it felt to admit, the small spotty brown dachshund filled your soul with so much joy that you couldn't wipe the smile off your face. Throwing the ball, and watching his little legs carry him so far, so fast with tiny little hops was definitely one of the cutest things you've seen in a while.

He was a brave and trusting little creature in most aspects of life, but when the rumble of an approaching motorcycle got a little too loud for his liking, Rocket came running back to your side with his tail between his legs.

Sitting by your side, you picked him up and held him close to your chest while speaking calming words to him that he definitely didn't understand. You pressed little kisses to his forehead, and he licked your cheek in return causing you to laugh.

Feeling a little annoyed that the motorcycle pulled into the parking area for the park you were occupying on your own, you stayed vigilant of your surroundings. Fully prepared to leave when the man got off the bike, you set Rocket down and started reaching for his leash before the dog started running towards the man who was now walking towards the both of you.

"Hey! Rocket, no!" You jumped up from your spot to chase after the irrationality fast weenie. Tail wagging, and happy wiggles took over his little body as he hopped up on his back two legs to greet the stranger. "I'm so sorry! He usually never does this, I don't know why he's... oh."

I'm front of you stood none other than Steve Rogers himself, looking delectable and cozy in a cute teal crewneck and some casual pants with sneakers on. You immediately had a billion and one questions, but he was very obviously taken by Rocket who was also very obviously taken by Steve. There was a serious love as first sight situation happening as Steve leaned down with a big smile on his face to say hi to the little dog.

"It's okay!" Steve giggled, squatting down to get closer to Rocket. "He soooo stinkin' cute!"

"What are you doing here?" You asked, feeling throughly confused, and immediately feeling a little defensive and protective.

When he looked up at you, your arms crossed over your chest as a form of self soothing. It had been so long since you felt this uncomfortable energy, and having it ripple through your body once more felt like reconnecting with an old friend.

"Oh, I was just in the area." Steve said sarcastically, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders.

"Right." You agreed. "Casually in the area two hours away from home... on a motorcycle?"

"An hour and 45 minutes is only an hour and 20 on a bike." Steve noted with a shy smile.

"And how did you know that this area you so happened to be in was the same place I was, even though I never told anyone where I was?" You tilted your head to the side.

"Oh, it's easy. A little birdie told me." Steve noted.

"What was the bird's name?"

"That's not important." He denied, still smiling at the dog but standing to his full height.

"I don't know, feels kind've important to me." You hated that you had to hold back a smile as you looked at him. And you hated even more that you couldn't stop thinking about how stupidly cute he looked with helmet hair and a cozy crewneck on.

"Do you want to sit and chat?" Steve asked, suddenly seeming nervous. "...if not that's fine we can talk a different time if you want."

"You came all this way just to talk?" You questioned.

Steve swallowed nervously as he nodded.

“You could've called me." You challenged.

"Sometimes I think the old fashioned way of doing things is better." He shrugged. "...Also you blocked my phone number after work hours."

You sighed and pointed to your blanket on the grass. "Sit."

He quickly nodded and obeyed your orders. He sat first, and you sat next to him, Rocket trailed behind with the tennis ball in his mouth before happily handing it to Steve.

"Who is this little guy?" Steve asked, throwing the ball for him.

"Rocket"

"Like the raccoon?"

“No, he's my parent's dog. They just thought the name suited him. But they're out of town for the next 3 days so he's mine until then." You explained.

"I heard you spent some time with your family. You look a lot happier, do you feel better?"

"So Jane was the birdie who told you where I was." You noted.

"Will not confirm nor deny."

"Mmm" you hummed, reading between the lines. "Yes, it was very nice spending time with people who love me. I do feel a lot better, but it's going to take a lot longer than a week to heal from everything that happened."

"Of course it will, but all that matters is that it's getting a little better everyday." Steve noted. "I don't know if this helps, but I think I put the fear of the devil into Harvey and all his friends. Should you choose to come back, I don't think they would be an issue for you anymore."

"Do I even want to know what you did to them?" You asked.

"I don't think the details really matter too much right now." Steve shrugged once more.

A very uncomfortable silence fell over the two of you, so you threw the ball for Rocket this time.

"Would you like to talk about the hard stuff?" Steve raised.

"Can't we just talk about the weather?" You complained, dreading the inevitable.

"It's pretty chilly out tonight." Steve noted. "You're not cold?"

"Nope." You exaggerated the P at the end of the word.

"Good chat." Steve giggled at the astronomical amount of discomfort and awkwardness you were exuding. "This is never going to get better if we don't talk about it."

"I haven't cried in a few days." You told him. "I'm dreading losing my streak."

"Crying is healthy, and so is expressing emotions." Steve told you. "For example, I really missed you and I've been worried about you for a while now, so I'm here to express that."

"Oh, so you weren't just in the area?" You questioned.

"I took my motorcycle to get to you as fast as I could, because I waited a whole week and every single day that passed by without me giving you a much needed apology was killing me slowly with an amount of guilt I didn't even know was possible for a human being to feel. So no, I was absolutely nowhere near the area."

"Was that the apology?"

"No." Steve denied. "I'm really sorry for everything that's happened. I feel like every interaction I've had with you this past month has been a really bad reflection of my character. I should've went about the whole situation with a lot more logic and understanding, and I should've just listened to you and Bucky before letting anger get the best of me. It wasn't fair to you."

Your eyes stayed fixed on Rocket as he hopped around the grass, he watched you slowly nod while processing his words. "I never meant to hurt your feelings, and if I knew back then what I knew now, Bucky and I would've never..."

"I know." Steve saved you from having to finish that statement. "And our last training was just... completely unacceptable. I wish there was a logical explanation as to why I was so upset that day. Quite honestly, every time I even start to think about it I feel just horribly embarrassed and completely mortified. I'm sorry for not listening to you and telling you that I didn't care. I'm sorry for scaring you and completely breaking your trust. Most importantly I'm really fucking sorry for hurting you. I should've listened better and walked you to medical the second you said something, and the fact that I only made it worse has kept me awake every night since it happened."

"Bucky said you were having a tough few days." You noted.

"It doesn't matter." Steve declined. "I need to do better than that, and I will. You were having some really hard days too, but you never used it as a reason to treat me like shit."

“I was pretty shitty to you."

"But within reason."

"I told you to ignore my existence, called you some not so nice names, yelled at you a few times..."

"Because I pushed you to that level of anger."

"The fact of the matter is that you felt that way because you felt disregarded and disrespected by Bucky and I, and for that, I'm sorry too." You apologized. "I know you weren't interested in hearing me out before when this all happened, and at the time none of the words really came out right. So if you're open to it, I feel like I'd really like a chance to explain the choices I made."

"Of course." Steve practically whispered with a subtle nod, throwing the ball once more for the dog. "But don't feel obligated to. I don't think I would've come all this way if I hadn't already forgiven you."

"This is never going to get better if we don't talk about it." You used his own words against him.

"Ah, so you do think we could make it better?" Steve asked.

"Why wouldn't I want it to get better?"

Steve sighed. "You made it pretty clear in a few different ways that you didn't want me as a friend or even around you at all anymore. A big part of me was expecting you to turn me away for good when I showed up here."

"Oh... sorry." You mumbled sadly, suddenly feeling bad about all the words you shouted at him out of pure, hot red anger.

"S'okay."

"Growing up, I was never really the center of attention for anything. I was never good at anything, I got straight B's in school, I had 2 friends at most. Even as I got older and went through high school I wasn't paid much attention to. I never had a boyfriend, I struggled a lot to make friends, once I even went to my teacher to ask him a question 4 months into senior year and he thought I was a new student even though I had been sitting in the second row of his class every single day."

"...yikes." Steve cringed.

"Yikes is right." You agreed. "I never thought I would exceed at anything at all in life. My big plans were finding a 5-9 desk job to make ends meet then just keep going until I didn't have to anymore. Then I discovered the joy of helping people, realized maybe I'm not all that bad at it, and before I knew it I was at Shield. Then all of the sudden I went from never getting much attention my entire life, to having all eyes on me at all times. I was being held to impossibly high standards, the boys wouldn't leave me alone, it felt like regardless of where I was in the building, there was this big huge spotlight on me."

Rocket had finally gotten too tired to play with his ball, so he came back to you and Steve, and laid down right next to Steve's leg. "Even I was hearing about you before you had made it to high enough ranks to work with me."

"Getting no male attention your whole life will kind've mess you up a bit, but going from no male attention to getting thrown into the compound where only a handful of other women work will mess you up a lot."

"Like throwing a zebra into a pack of lions."

"Even that feels like an understatement." You grinned. "Harvey was the first guy I met that didn't feel like he was going to eat me alive, so I stuck with him."

"He was your first boyfriend?" Steve asked, sounding genuinely appalled.

"He was my first everything." You admitted shyly. "I thought he was one of the good ones, like that one boy you waited your whole life for. But obviously I was stupid, and that turned out to be one of the bigger mistakes of my life."

"He's the stupid one, not you." Steve denied.

"When I met you and Bucky, it was a big breath of fresh air. You guys helped me realize that Harvey was bad for me, but at that point I was already convinced he would be the only guy who would ever be stupid enough to fall in love with me. So I stayed way longer than I should've, but in the meantime I felt like I had opened up to you and Bucky far more than I ever had to Harvey. We started training together and talking more, and at that point I felt like I had given you so much more of myself than I had ever given anyone else in my life. Which I know sounds odd, but we were having these really good conversations that made me feel really vulnerable but in a good way, and we had built so much trust and understanding of each other that I never had to question what your intentions were when you were around."

Asshole. Asshole. Asshole. That was the only word Steve could think of at the moment. How he felt, how he treated you, how he made you feel, he was an asshole.

"I'll spare you details, but after Harvey and I officially called it quits obviously I was really fucking sad. I wanted to see you, but you were away on a mission and I just needed to be with a friend so I went to Bucky's place instead. I had all of this new found freedom, paired with this gut wrenching feeling that I was going to be alone and unloved for the rest of my life, and a good friend in front of my face who was just so kind and gentle...things just happened. I wasn't the one to initiate, but I definitely didn't put a stop to it because for once it was really nice to feel wanted. We didn't even kiss or see each other naked, it felt like less of a big deal to me and far less vulnerable or intimate than most of the stunts and challenges I let you guide me through in training. Bucky and I weren't trying to be malicious and we had no bad intentions in our choice to not tell you, I was just afraid that you wouldn't understand and that you'd take it the wrong way. Which, with all due respect, you didn't understand and by the time I even got a chance to try to explain it to you, we were both so angry and defensive that none of the words would come out right."

Working up the courage to look at Steve to gauge any sort of emotional reaction from him, his face was full of remorse as his eyes stayed set on the dog as his hands gently pet his long body and scratched the top of his head.

You took the chance to take a deep breath and let your palm sink into the fluffy park grass, one last ditch effort to ground yourself before the getting into the hardest part of the conversation. "That fear of misunderstanding and miscommunication is exactly why you didn't tell me or Bucky or anyone for that matter that you liked me. And just like how the information about what Bucky and I did got to you in the wrong way at the wrong time, that information got to me in the very wrong way at the very wrong time. And just like you, I didn't understand, and I felt hurt and betrayed because of it."

You watched Steve's cheeks turn red before he hid his face in his hands and let out a groan, earning a little smile from you that he couldn't even see. "Can we just talk about the weather again?"

"Sure thing." You agreed. "I think I lied to you on accident, because now I am kind've cold."

"Wow I'll never forgive you." He joked dryly, mumbling into the palms of his hands.

"That's okay, we can add it to the list of dumb shit we gotta talk through." You giggled. "Well, seems like that covers the weather category again. Are you ready to come out of hiding?"

He peeked one eye out between his fingers. "No. I kind've wish the floor would swallow me whole right now."

"Wow, I didn't think that you had a weak spot, but I found it." You enthused.

Although it was at much too high a cost, seeing a genuine smile on your face for the first time in over a month was like a big breath of fresh air to Steve.

"I'm not covering my ears, I can still hear you perfectly fine. Please continue." He grumbled.

"Just to put you out of your misery and conclude that horrifically long sob story I just subjected you to..." You started. "I was only hurt in that moment because after fooling around with Bucky and getting the information that you liked me sprung on me, it felt like I had lost the only two people in the compound who didn't see me as or treat me like an object of some weird sexual fantasy. Part of me even felt mad and embarrassed at myself for believing that we could've been friends without you guys seeing me that way. Plus, I had all those people in the compound already saying the only reason I was getting so far in my career was because I was sleeping with you, and I so desperately didn't want them to be right. So, all of that being said, I'm sorry too, I should've never been so mean to you. I'm sorry that Bucky and I hurt you, I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions and not letting you explain yourself while accusing you of things you'd never do."

"Like I said earlier, I already forgave you." Steve slowly let his hands fall from his face, cheeks still stained a pretty pink color.

"That doesn't mean you don't deserve an apology." You reminded him. "We both hurt each other, it's not fair for you to take all the blame."

"I feel like I'm going to throw up" Steve took a deep breath.

"Don't do that" you shook your head. "Please don't throw up."

"I hope you know that our friendship has always meant a lot to me, and absolutely none of it was a scheme to sleep with you." Steve braved through the hard part of the conversation he absolutely wished he never had to think about again.

"Yeah, I do now." You reassured him. "I'm sorry I said that."

"I really just didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable." Steve explained. "Especially in an environment where you were already getting eaten alive. Plus I was your boss, and you had Harvey, and I didn't want to ruin our friendship... and, yeah, I dunno. It was just a mess. I didn't tell Bucky because I didn't want him to tell me to tell you. He figured it out on his own, by the way. Apparently my eyes twinkle too much, whatever that means."

"I'm not uncomfortable, and yeah, you do have really twinkly eyes." You grinned.

"I guess that's your fault" Steve jokingly sassed.

"Oh so now we're pointing fingers?" You took fake offense.

"From this point on, I'd really like it if everyone could just ignore the twinkle in my eyes so we can all get back to being friends like we were before." Steve said, giving you a really easy escape to officially denying him.

"But I think the twinkles are so pretty!" You enthused, giggling when you could practically see his heart drop.

"You shouldn't be saying things like that when you know I already feel like throwing up." Steve shook his head and clutched his stomach.

"But I mean it." You confirmed. "Knowing what I know now, why would we ever go back to being how we were before?"

Steve swallowed thickly, then his hands started exaggerated movements to further get his point across. "I'm trying to give you an easy way out of telling me you don't want me back in the same way."

"I understand, but that wouldn't be true." You giggled. "I do remember you stating very clearly that you aren't my boss anymore, am I remembering that correctly?"

"No, technically I'm not you b-" He rambled quietly.

"Do we think this would do anything to harm our sweet little Bucky boy?"

"No. He's been going out with Natasha and has been trying to get me to ask y-"

"You we're so kind as to cut me some deals, so I've got one for you too. Let's take some time to let everything settle and heal over, then when the time is right, we'll explore more of that little twinkle, alright?"

"Okay." Steve nodded wide eyed and enthusiastic.

"Yeah? Are you going to throw up?" You questioned with a smile.

"Maybe only a little bit." He continued nodding.

"I guess that's better than a lot-a-bit" you justified.

"So we're okay?" Steve asked, twinkly eyed and puppy dogged face.

"We're okay." You confirmed. "Can I give you a hug? You look like you really need it."

Steve opened his arms for you, and you both had to awkwardly lean over Rocket who was instantly stayed tucked next to his leg. Embracing him tightly, you realized just how badly you needed it too.

Both unwilling to let go for a little while, you took the time to appreciate his body heat that was a stark difference between the cold air outside.

"I'm sorry." Steve quietly apologized again.

"It's okay. I'm sorry too." You accepted. "I really missed you, Stevie."

"I missed you too, Bug. I've been so worried about you lately." One of his hands was very sweetly rubbing your back.

"Sorry." You sighed. "I've been trying my best."

"I know. That doesn't make me worry any less."

"I love you." You reminded him for the first time in a while.

Steve relaxed and let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding onto. "I love you more."

Although you could've hugged him forever, the two of you mutually unwrapped yourself from each other.

"How is your shoulder?" He questioned remorsefully.

"Oh, it's fine." You told him. "It feels so much better. I've been doing yoga all week and it's held up nicely."

"Good, that's good." He nodded. "And have you put any thought into what you're going to do about your job?"

"Everyone seems to want me to do something different." You sighed. "I've been coming here almost every night just to think about it. It's really nice that the sprinklers don't turn on at 10 pm."

“What do you want to do?"

"I think I know what I want, but I'm really scared of making the jump." You explained.

"I'm not here to talk you in or out of anything, I was just curious." Steve grinned. "You still have the rest of the week to think it through. But just know that I have no doubt in your ability to handle a big scary jump"

"I can usually only handle big scary jumps because most of the time, you're down at the bottom waiting to catch me." You admitted.

"Well regardless of what you choose, I'll still always be here for you." Steve reminded you sweetly. "I just hope you do what you think is best for you, and not what other people want you to do."

“That's the thing, I don't think I know what's good for me."

"Are you kidding me? You have great intuition." Steve said. "Your just need to gain back trust for that little voice in your head that's telling you what to do."

"The same voice that bullies me every day?!" You asked with a giggle. "Absolutely not, she gets no say in any of my choices nowadays."

Steve close lipped smiled at you, his dimples setting deep into his chiseled cheeks. "Then forget you even have a brain and listen to your heart."

"She's also been really problematic recently." You noted. "I don't like her very much right now."

His smile turned into a pout. "That sounds like a very tough thing to not like about yourself."

"Tell me about it." You agreed. "But we're working on it."

"Once again, I guess that's all that matters." Steve noted. "So you can't make a big decision with your heart or your head, and your shoulder is out of the question. We're running low on body parts."

"Maybe I'll let Rocket make the choice for me." You grinned at the sleepy dog.

"I think Rocket should be an Avenger... actually, I think Rocket should come home with me and be my dog instead." Steve smiled, petting the dog once more.

"My parents would hunt you down for sport if you ever took this dog." You giggled. "He's their favorite child."

"But I love him!" Steve pouted like a child. "He's just so fucking cute! Have you seen these ears?!"

"No pets allowed at the compound" You reminded him, nudging his arm. "Maybe that's all the more reason to quit."

“I think that's reason to break the rules, not to quit." Steve corrected.

"Captain America suggesting I break the rules?!" You questioned with a gasp.

"Am I not the same man who's whole career was founded off of breaking the law?" Steve questioned right back. "When have I ever followed the rules?"

"Wow, bad to the bone."

"That sounded sarcastic." He noted as his eyebrow raised in question.

"Me? Sarcastic? Never." You denied.

Rocket readjusted to get more comfortable, but crawled into the hole within Steve's crossed legs and curled up into a little ball in his lap, with his head resting on his thigh.

"Okay that's it." Steve declared, fists balling up to keep himself from unleashing his cuteness aggression on the creature in the form of hugging him so tight his eyes popped out of his head like a stress ball. "I can't take this anymore. How bad would your parents beat me up if I stole this dog? Because really, I think I could take the beating."

"I simply cannot express to you how much taking this dog away from my parents is not an option." You laughed at his question. "I think my Mom would run you over with her car."

"No way she would do that." Steve shook his head. "She was so nice when I met her!"

"She would not be nice if you stole her weenie." You pointed out.

"Come on, she gave me a hug. No mom that's giving out free hugs could ever hit me with a car."

"That's where you're wrong. Because any woman that has so much love for her kids would do anything to seek rightful justice if you did anything to fuck with them." You corrected him. "Even if she's five foot nothing, and you're Captain America. Don't mess with her baby."

“Oh no" Steve's eyes went wide.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh shit." He panicked. "Do your parents hate me?"

"No? Why would they hate you?" You questioned with a nervous laugh.

"Because I accidentally fucked with your Mom's baby and now she's going to do anything to seek rightful justice." Steve clutched the fabric of his sweater right over his chest. "The throw up is coming back."

"I didn't tell them anything about you or Bucky, other than that you didn't let me quit right in the spot." You explained. "They love you and all of the Avengers too much for me to ever ruin their perception of the people who make them feel safe."

"So why do they think you're here?" Steve asked.

"I only told them about Harvey and the general issues I'm having with all of the other agents."

"Your sister knows." He said. "She made a weird comment..."

"She always makes weird comments, that's just what makes Jane, Jane." You smiled. "Yes, she knows, but she likes you a lot. I think she even took your side, she's been advocating for you the whole time."

"She's going to tell your mom, and your mom is going to hunt me for sport."

"No she won't, and even if she does find out about it, she's a very rational person. As long as we're fine, she's fine." You explained. "Look I'll prove it to you, say cheese!"

Quickly taking your phone out of your pocket and pointing the camera at Steve and Rocket, he smiled and you snapped a picture. He watched you type away for a few moments.

You sent the picture in a group chat with your mom and dad, then immediately got a response.

"See! Look! I said, look who came by to hang out with your favorite child." You giggled at your screen, turning it towards him so show that you sent them the picture. "My mom responded and said omg, Dad is honored. We don't know who is cuter, Rocket or Captain Rogers."

"Okay now ask if I can steal the dog." His cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink.

"I thought the point was to make sure my mom liked you" You laughed, locking your phone and putting it on the grass besides you. "Trust that I'm doing you a favor."

"Fine, but I'm not happy about it." He joked.

"I didn't know you felt so passionately about wieners, Steven." You giggled.

"What can I say? There's nothing better than kicking back and playing with a wiener." He ran with your joke.

"A nice, long wiener."

"This is ridiculous" Steve's face scrunched up, earning more of your adorable laughter.

Like no time had passed, you and Steve sat and chatted away for a few hours. You could tell the comfortable conversation was helping him resolve his own internal guilt, so you were happy to stay and chat for as long as he needed. But selfishly, you missed him more than you ever wanted to admit to yourself.

His adorable smile and pretty pink cheeks lit up a part of your heart that you had felt so disconnected from for so long now. And as the night grew colder, and significantly later, he couldn't just ignore the occasional chills that would make you momentarily shiver. You kept ignoring them and playing them off just to spend more time with your sweet friend, but eventually you ended up tucked underneath his arm and snuggled up to his side for warmth while Rocket stayed glued to his lap.

There was little you could do to ignore how comfortable and familiar it felt to be sharing warmth with the soldier. By all means, both Steve and Bucky were touchy people on a normal day to day basis, plus all of the training you did with Steve made you very comfortable with his skin on yours.

But this was different. His head that nestled on top of yours that rested on his shoulder, his big hand on the top of you arm keeping you close and snug against him, paired the gentle and quiet volume in his voice wasn't just friendly.

His hold was apologetic, and almost regretful. It was reconnecting, and mending. You could feel all of his unspoken words seeping out from his warm body to into your cold one, and you wondered if he could feel the same thing happening to him through your timid hand resting between his shoulder blades.

Just based on his calm breaths, but still racing pulse that you could feel on his neck, you knew it was different for him too.

But it was a good different, a hopeful and very exciting different.

Much like your shivers that you ignored and played off, Steve was trying to mask his yawns. Unfortunately, this was something that you couldn't ignore. Especially when you pressed the button on your phone and the screen informed you that it was already 11:52pm.

"As sad as I am to have to put an end to this, it's already almost midnight and your crazy ass drove an hour and a half here on a motorcycle." You reminded him.

"I just got you back, I don't want to leave you again." He pouted.

"I don't want you to leave either, but I'd prefer if you got home safely." Your timid hand now gently rubbing short stripes on his back. "Or you can stay the night with me here if you'd like."

A sleepy grin overtook the sat pout. "Thank you, but once again I don't want your parents to hate me. Plus I have my stupid annual physical in the morning."

"My parents wouldn't hate you, they'd rather you be safe than drive home tired."

"I'm not that tired, I'll be okay." He reassured you. "And you can't come back to the compound?"

"No, I have to watch Rocket." You reminded him. "But I'll see you in a few days at least. I'll be back before the end of the week."

"Oh, you'll be back?" He raised an eyebrow, challenging your statement.

"To give my official resignation at the very least, or to move all of my stuff into the Avengers sector at the very most. Who's to say what's going to happen?" You giggled.

"Well, when you need help moving let me know. I know a couple guys that can lift a few thousand pounds at a time, it helps the process go by really fast." Steve egged you on.

"Uh huh, I'll keep that in mind." You rolled your eyes with a smile, and wrapped your other arm around his front to squeeze him in a sideways hug. "Thanks for coming all the way here. It was really nice getting to have a conversation with you, I really missed spending time together."

"Of course. Thank you for even giving me the chance to explain myself. If I were you, I don't know of I would be able to be that gracious." He squeezed your shoulder in appreciation.

"There isn't much I wouldn't do for you." You grinned.

"Oh yeah? What wouldn't you do?" Steve questioned with a chuckle.

"I won't let you steal my moms dog." You stated. "Which reminds me, I'm going to need that back."

"Okay, I guess you can have him back. " Steve smiled and picked up the little fur-ball from his lap and placed him on yours instead. "Thanks for letting me play with your wiener."

"Feel free to come back and play with my wiener anytime." You laughed at his joke, unwrapping yourself from him as he started standing up.

"What an incredible offer, thank you" Steve smiled, now standing over you and offering you his hand to help you up.

"Like I said, anytime." You playfully winked.

Quickly putting on Rockets leash, you set the dog on the grass and accepted Steve's hand. He pulled you up effortlessly and bent over to grab your blanket from the grass.

"How far away is your parents house?" Steve questioned, subconsciously folding the blanket.

"About two blocks" You shrugged.

"Can I walk you guys home?" He asked, eyes twinkling once more as he shoved his hands in his front pockets to keep them warm.

"Absolutely not" You denied.

He was immediately pretending to be offended with a big gasp and hand whipped out of his pocket and over his heart. "Ma'am, it is pitch black out here and it's already midnight."

You laughed at his response. "Sir, it's pitch black and midnight. Your motorcycle is right there. I'm not letting you walk me two blocks in a neighborhood I'm familiar with because that means you'll have to walk another two blocks back here all by yourself somewhere you've never been. Logistically it makes no sense."

Steve puffed and furrowed his eyebrows. "What if some creepy dude comes and tries to mess with you? Huh? Then what?"

"Then I use all my big and scary self defense moves that Captain America taught me." You answered. "Also, do you not see this big scary guard dog? Nobody is going to fuck with me."

His pout deepened. "What if you start walking home and some dude on a motorcycle follows you all the way home?"

"Is that what's going to happen?" You giggled at his question.

"If you keep saying you're not going to let me walk you home then maybe it will." Steve shrugged.

"I've been walking by myself this late every single night for a week now." You told him. "It's always been fine, it'll be fine again."

"Now you're just trying to give me a heart attack." Steve deadpanned, earning your laugh once again.

"So I'm a good enough fighter to be an Avenger, but not good enough to walk to my parents house by myself?" You asked.

"Yes, exactly!" Steve enthused. "So glad we could have this conversation to clear that up, come one let's get you home."

His arm linked around yours and he started walking. "I think you're absolutely out of your mind, but I appreciate you nonetheless."

Looking up at his face just in time, you caught his smile. "The second half of that statement is really the only part that matters to me."

Your steps synched up with his, and Rocket walked ahead of the two of you. "Hey, Stevie?"

"Hmm?"

"If you actually want to get me home, we should be walking in the complete opposite direction" You grinned.

Steve stopped and laughed. "Okay, you lead the way."

You did eventually make it home, and only when you stood on the door step did Steve let your arms disconnect.

"Look we made it here and nobody died!" You enthused. "Do you remember how to get back?"

"Of course I do" Steve giggled at your question. "It wasn't even two full blocks."

"Just making sure" you raised your hands in defense. "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

"I would if I could." His thankful grin showed off the shallow dimples in his cheeks. "See you soon?"

"In a few days" you nodded in confirmation.

He stuck his arms out for one last hug, and you accepted happily. After he let go of you, he bent down to say bye to Rocket.

"Drive save! Text me when you get home." You told him.

Steve's face scrunched up for a second, causing you to look at him in confusion.

"What's wrong?"

"You blocked my phone number" He reminded you with a loud whisper.

"I'll unblock it, but text me when you get home" You giggled.

"Okay great!" Steve smiled big and did a little happy dance. "Goodnight!"

"Goodnight, love you!"

"Love you more!" He waved as he walked down the driveway.

Next Part: Twinkles

Taglist: @sarangheay @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers @xxxalicerogersxx @whore-for-chris-evans @em8rin @mulbsstuff @qalijahbydior @awkotaco24 @buckybarnessimpp @nicoline1998enilocin @buckystevelove @rogersbarber @mybuck @dbnightingale24 @ynstark @sincerelytlh @alexakeyloveloki @mrsevans90 @smhnxdiii @claralovescaptainamerica @hisredheadedgoddess28 @bigtreefest

204 notes · View notes

cillivnz · 2 years ago

Text

nadie como mi pantera [miguel o’hara]

PAIRING — SPIDER-MAN 2099 x ANOMALY!READER

TROPE — enemies to fuckers (?)

WORD COUNT — 2.4k+

WARNINGS — SMUT. eighteen+. AFAB!READER. cursing, injuries, legal age-gap, mentions of male and female masturbation, mentions of trauma, dark!miguel, heavy degradation, marking, biting, venom-play (?), a little bit of objectification, degrading names and descriptions, pet-names, dub-con, breast/nipple play, fingering, clit-play, bondage, public sex, size difference, penetrative sex (p! in v!), jealousy, dumbification, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampie, miguel being down bad for reader, basically.

A/N — you really thought i wouldn’t write for papí? i don’t like this but i had to write for miguel and i had to write for him as soon as possible. i was listening to this C.R.O song that inspired me to write this, so, i hope you enjoy my take at my favorite kind of miguel fiction! i’d love to hear your thoughts in my asks <3

lowercase intended.

LISTENING TO — ‘Por La Carretera’ by C.R.O and ‘This Love’ by Pantera.

NOTES [excuse inaccurate translations]

“no puedes correr para siempre, perra.” — you can’t run forever, bitch.

‘viejo’ — old man

“estúpido, caliente puto bastardo.” — stupid, horny fucking bastard.

“joder, perra. atragantarse con mi polla así como así.” — fuck, bitch. choke on my cock just like that.

gilipollas — asshole

“si insistes, cariño.” — if you insist, honey.

querida — dear

“dios mío, ¿cómo puede una chica ser tan bonita y a la vez tan tonta?” — my god, how can a girl be so pretty yet so dumb?

puta — bitch

“yo también pensé en mi pantera…” — i thought of my pantera, too…

“𝐴𝑌， 𝑁𝐴𝐷𝐼𝐸 𝐿𝑂 𝐻𝐴𝐶𝐸 𝐶𝑂𝑀𝑂 𝑇𝑈́,”

running was all you knew.

at the sight of danger, in the fear of things, you ran; or perhaps, your pride didn’t allow it to be called, “fleeing”.

either way, despite being the most notorious villain of your world, you were running away from a monster chasing you, and so you ran like him, on all fours.

“no puedes correr para siempre, perra.”

you hear him grunt, leaping from building-to-building.

he ached, not that you knew, but he ached to catch a hold of you, and for reasons he wasn’t willing to reflect upon right now.

he just needed more than the ghost of your touch against his talons for hands, to feel the softness of your flesh against his claws, not for a moment, but an eternity.

“mírame, viejo.”

“can’t catch me.” you spoke the same few words you always did to him, before leaping through yet another portal, except you were slow; fatally, too slow. so when just about your upper half slid through the dimensional portal, you were yanked back into hell by the devil himself attached to your calf.

miguel o’hara’s claws sinked deep into your flesh.

“caught you.”

you were the root cause of all his problems these days. the pinnacle of his annoyance, agitation, and arousal.

“estúpido, caliente puto bastardo,” he’d often curse at night, following the lines, “joder, perra. atragantarse con mi polla así como así,” pumping his throbbing cock at the thought, the sight of you, hidden behind mounds of paperwork, peering at the multiple cameras he’d installed in your apartment.

a part of him cherished the cat-and-mouse chase, yearned for it. the other, rational, heroic bit knew he was wrong. he should’ve captured you at your most vulnerable; spread wide apart, rubbing leisurely at your swollen clit, but he didn’t. he simply couldn’t do anything but breathe haphazardly, or unzip his suit and start stroking himself at the pace with which you fingered yourself.

he thought he was in the clear, letting this continue for months, but jessica seemed to have caught on, offering to catch you for him, which was when he snapped; at her, and at any spider who dare mention your name.

there was talk at the tables, you were labelled the sexiest, most beautiful anomaly. multiple peters lined up to offer to be appointed to you, but it only added fuel to the fire that was miguel o’hara’s temper.

his efficiency, skill, and authority were at stake. and so, he finds himself chasing after you, yet again.

only this time, he didn’t let you escape.

his own eyes widened when his talon ripped through your limb. the colour left his face, a panicked expression painted all over his hidden face. carefully, yet fervently he removed them from your leg. by the time he did so, he was on top, and you were right beneath him, pressed so tightly against his chest.

instinctively, you raised your ass, pressing into his constricted crotch. the gesture knocked the air out of miguel, who had deemed you to be in agony from the cut on your leg, but when miguel looked back at your black suit, he saw healed flesh through the torn fabric; soft and tender, like the rest of you.

he took off his mask, turning you over.

he took off yours, too. it were as if another moment without seeing your face would’ve sent him spiralling madly into the multiverse of armageddon.

solace, is what your face brought. agony, is what it put him through. everything about you, be it y/n y/l or his pantera was so, so perfect.

her eyes, mere slits staring at him with offence and hatred, yet the pupils dilate when his grip on your waist tightens, her plump lips muttering various curses at his name, but even the most vile profanities sounded like honeyed words of love coming from those perfect, bordeaux lips. her frown, her cute nose, her perfect hair, a mess underneath her mask, framing perfectly against her frame; so tiny compared to the mammoth monster towering over her.

she is perfect, and nobody does it like her.

nobody ruins canons like her, and she’s got every reason. the things she’s been through, miguel knows an angelita like her doesn’t deserve anything she’s had to endure. it all made her stronger, until she was blamed for things she had no control over; her powers, her ability to survive. her perfection, that the world tried to take advantage of. so, it comes as no surprise to miguel o’hara that the sweet y/n y/l resorted— no, was pushed to the dark side.

as much as he sympathises, and even cares for the girl he’s grown fond of, the girl that calls him ‘viejo’ with utmost conceit, he must teach her a lesson.

one she’d remember.

“i told you i’d catch you.” he leaned closer, a baritone in his velvet voice. “fuck off, miggy.” if it weren’t for ‘viejo’, it were ‘miggy’. see, o’hara wasn’t the only one spying, and y/l did enough digging to find out all about him, hence the constant reminder of their age-gap. the only difference between the two was that y/n stopped watching after what was useful, whereas miguel deemed eyeing her figure 24/7 as very necessary; even when she’d change in her room, and especially when it was into a skimpy dress to go out with some lowlife edgelord that couldn’t even pay for her drink.

miguel still has the fuckface hanging upside down in some alleyway in some multiverse.

nobody touches pantera.

“hermosa, don’t talk to me like that,” he warned in response to your curse. “oh, bite me, gilipollas.” you smirked, not anticipating his next move.

“si insistes, cariño.” he shrugged before releasing his fangs from their pillowy casing, his plump lips, to reach for your pulse point and bite. hard.

her shriek of pain turned into a wanton moan when he injected a small dose of venom into her, licking the open wound clean, savouring the ferric sweetness.

“damn you, son of a bitch,” you huffed in between breaths, “what have you done to me?” he groaned against your skin, setting every inch ablaze.

he breathed in your scent, face pressed in your slowly bleeding neck, before spreading your limbs wide and apart. he rose, shooting webs on each ending, one by one, tying you in place.

you were trapped in his embrace, on the helipad of a skyscraper. before realisation dawned in on you, miguel was dragging his mouth over your body, from the throat downwards, his protruding fangs ripping through whatever fabric came in the way, and soon enough, he had ripped through your suit, till he was right above your cunt.

a smirking miguel eyed you, conceit and shamelessness painted all over his flawless face. his large hands gripped the ripped suit from each slit and tore it off of you, leaving you only in your panties. “fucking hell, querida, no bra?” his face contorted in need at the sight of your bountiful chest, nipples hardening when the cold air of nueva york hit them.

his mouth felt obliged to latch onto both of your buds, paying the heed they so desperately craved. “days,” he began, “only i know how weeks, months went by in craving you.” “you make me hate myself, y/n.” “you don’t belong here,” he had moved on to your neck, placing sloppy wet kisses. raising himself just enough to eye you, he dipped two of his fingers into his fanged mouth, covering them in spit, before burying his face back into your neck and plunging a finger inside you.

you moaned, grinding against the palm of his large hand to provide some relief to your throbbing clit.

“you’re an anomaly,” he groaned, feeling you tighten around him, not even letting him bury himself knuckle deep. “and yet, you’re dying to fuck me.” you managed to mock miguel. “didn’t say you’re not insatiable.” his calculating eyes were fixated on the sight of your pussy swallowing his fingers.

spreading your lips apart using his index and ring finger, he plunged further into you. soon enough, while he still cursed your existence out in spanish, three of his fingers were fucking you open causing a delicious tremor of pain to run through you.

when your eyes closed in awaiting excruciating pleasure, he bit into the same, now healed, skin of your neck injecting a larder dosage of the apparent venom. “eyes on me, querida.”

he feigned a look of inncocece whereas nothing about your acts was innocent.

he looked angelic while committing the devil’s sins, fingering you at godspeed while his crimson eyes stared into your soul.

“gonna come, love? sí, good girl, let it all out f’me.” and you did.

spasming around his fingers, you let out pent-up frustration of months, because the truth is, you’ve always been a woman of reciprocity.

an eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth,

an orgasm for an orgasm.

“i wanna suck it.” you whined between pants, trying to break free from the webbed bondage. “hm, tempting,” the clocks of contemplation seemed to be ticking behind those crimson eyes, “but no.” he shook his head, creating regrettable distance between the two of you. “but i want it—” you whined,

“and i want you to go back to your universe. for the sake of the multivers—”

“oh, to hell with you and your multiverse, o’hara. just fuck me and get it over with.”

you rolled your eyes, but were soon put in regret when a hand wrapped around your throat.

“you think that’s all i’m gonna do? dios mío, ¿cómo puede una chica ser tan bonita y a la vez tan tonta?” he ‘tsked’, “i’m not just gonna ‘fuck you and get it over with’, i’m gonna ruin you for everyone else.” you had no idea when he had the time to discard his lower half of the suit, until you felt something sinister and sinful rubbing against your slit.

“so wet, querida. and all for me?” he groaned shamelessly, the sound resonating in your core. villainous tendencies getting the best of you, you couldn’t help but tease, “not really, i thought peter b. would swing by.” you shot him a shit-eating grin, trying your level best not to show how pleasurable his cock rubbing against you felt.

you knew you were fucked when he clenched his jaw, crimson eyes glowing to a dangerous fluorescent scarlet, before he laughed dryly, “you’re gonna fucking regret that.”

you yelped when he turned you around, shooting more webs onto your constricted frame. in your new position, you were forced to lie with your back arched, tits pressed against the cold concrete, unwavering with how greatly they were held in place. each limb was securely taped to the floor, every inch of your body covered in sticky webs, all except the very hole where he’d shoot in his special web.

“you like this, puta? i know i do.” he said, stroking your leaking slit with his cock.

“my very own glory hole.”

he didn’t give you a moment to retaliate, instantly shoving his entire length inside you.

you were a goner.

from the way his anomaly of a cock slammed against your g-spot repeatedly, in full combat with your cervix, to the way his heavy balls slapped your clit, his talons ripping two holes just around your areoles to pull and pinch your nipples.

“miguel…” you moaned repeatedly, like a chant praising the god on his knees behind you. “what happened to ‘viejo’, hm? you like this old man’s cock too much to care now? yeah? too cock-drunk on an older guy?” he growled, in between unfaltering thrusts. “it’s okay, bébé, this pussy is my reward, too. isn’t it? i’ve been so patient with you. ‘never complaining when you touch yourself.”

“i’m not selfish like that. i want my hermosa to touch herself when she thinks of me. i know you say my name, cariño. i know you say ‘miguel’.” you buried your face further in your shame, cheek pressed against the cold concrete. “it’s okay, yo también pensé en mi pantera when i fuck my fist.”

you moaned at the thought of him jerking off to you, ready to give all the pennies in the world for his thoughts, his fantasies you’re more than obliged to fulfil.

“i’m gonna cum—” you managed to warn just in time as you creamed on his cock. “sí, querida. so good f’me.” he brought two fingers to your clit, overstimulating your high.

you writhed around, but miguel wouldn’t budge.

he still fucked in and out of you, bottomed out completely, to just the tip in, all with relentless speed and vigour.

“fuck, your cunt is so tight, y/n. hell, i might just keep you.”

“mi pantera is my fuckdoll.”

the overstimulation killing you, “no more… n-no more!” you moaned wantonly, but miguel didn’t stop his fervent flicks on your clit, nor the torturous pummelling your pussy was enduring.

when you neared your second orgasm, miguel made sure you reached it, but didn’t give you the satisfaction of riding out your high. pulling out, he gently tapped on your pussy, watching it spasm around nothingness, and then he slammed his cock inside you, letting your gaping pussy milk him dry.

the sight was something to see.

miguel o’hara, the work-consumed maniac who never let anyone see any side of him other than solemnity, had more expression on his face than ever before. face contorted in pleasure as he shot ropes of his load into you, grip tightening around your hips, his plump lit ripping between his sharp teeth.

“fuck,”

“𝑵𝑨𝑫𝑰𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑶 𝑴𝑰 𝑷𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑨.”

he groaned, staying buried deep inside of you for a few more lingering moments.

he slashed your constricts, hesitantly pulling out his cock from your hole, its new home.

“still hell-bent on wreaking havoc?” he asked, flipping your spent body over, placing a lustful kiss on your swollen lips. “no, sir.” you whispered softly, causing a wave of arousal to wash over miguel, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to act on it.

“good, because i was serious about keeping you.” he stared you dead in the eyes, wrapping those colossal arms around your body; like putty in his hands. putting on his suit again, he carried you away in the still of the night.

your villainous days, perhaps, are over, but something tells you, you and miguel are far from it.

884 notes · View notes

ulquiorrapleasecallmetrash · 6 months ago

Note

I just found your blog and omg it's a blessing, could I request either sfw or nsfw Ulquiorra with his female Fraccion who is pretty loud and obnoxious (literally a female version of Grimmjow) I hope you have a good day/night! 🖤

`Ulquiorra Cifer with a loud and obnoxious fraccion s/o sfw and nsfw Headcanons:

Fandom: Bleach

Rated: 16+ mayyyybe? The NSFW bit isn't that descriptive but I put a warning just in case!

Warnings: slight nsfw

Admin Harmony🐯: Aw thank you so much for calling my blog a blessing! I find that to be very flattering and hilarious. I have been laughing at your compliment ever since I read this haha. I hope you enjoy this!

┏━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┓┏━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┓┏━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┓

-When Ulquiorra first met his fraccion one word he could really think in his head was this- obnoxious.

-The only reason why he agreed for you to be his fraccion was for your usefulness and nothing else.

-You have unique powers that couldn’t quite match to any other arrancar and Aizen spoke highly of you before the two of you met. So, before meeting you he decided to take up on Lord Aizen’s Fraccion suggestion.

-Surely, you would be smart, diligent, and capable just like him… well- he was wrong.

-He couldn’t believe that Lord Aizen would suggest someone who acts just like Grimmjow to be his fraccion.

-So when he sees you picking fights with Nnoitra or getting angry by what Grimmjow had said about you he would just think of you as an idiot.

-And oftentimes will pull you away from any confrontation. Which, he isn’t happy about it at all.

-And of course, he would verbally scold you for being like this.

-This would lead you to roll your eyes and give a sarcastic remark to him. Which he loathes greatly.

-Though, you are entertained when you can get a rise out of him, though subtly there are a little details where you notice.

-Such as the clear annoyance in his voice, his fist clenching, scoffing and an eye roll when he is very not pleased.

-You knew his “no feelings” mask was cracking because like it or not - annoyance is still a feeling.

-And the look on his face when you tell him this- was priceless.

-Of course he would try not to show his anger but he can’t help it. You’re just soooo annoying.

- But what made him finally realized your true value was when Aizen said, “If you truly don’t want her to be your fraccion then you are capable enough to kill them. It’s your choice.”

- Obviously, he hesitated. And that made him do a lot of self-reflecting which means, he alot of distance from you.

-So then he started to think about your worth besides your powers.

-Your quirkiness, how you are good at taking orders, your over all positive presence makes him feel slight better. Along with your smile.

-You were a great fraccion, but he wouldn’t tell you that to your face.

-So, he decides to keep you alive and to be your fraccion, not knowing he was developing feelings for you.

┏━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┓┏━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┓┏━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┓

-With a s/o who is very loud and obnoxious I can expect them to be more dominating.

-Which I think for once Ulquiorra would not mind especially since during the day he is always the sensible and responsible one.

-plus his lack of knowledge with sex and intimacy does not help either.

-So you will basically get a very submissive Ulquiorra in the long run.

-Which took a bit of time and trust to let you do this because he always thinks of himself as the boss and gives all the demands.

-But once he sees you in his place he definitely values a lot more now than he did before.

-The way you tease him but also praise him makes his head foggy.

-How your light touches and words of comfort when he feels very uncomfortable and vulnerable.

-You remind him that it’s okay to have these feelings and for him to trust you.

- And he does. Though it does take him some time.

-Compliment him and tell him how much of a good boy he is when he does. This makes him even more encouraged to let everything and get into his headspace.

┏━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┓┏━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┓┏━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┓

#bleach #anime #manga #imagines #bleach imagines #anime imagines #headcanons #ulquiorra #ulquiorra cifer #ulquiorra bleach #ulquiorra shiffer #ulquiorra x reader #bleach ulquiorra #ulquiorra imagines #arrancar #espada #ulquiora schiffer #spicy

69 notes · View notes

stayfortwominutes · 1 year ago

Text

📝 "keep it, it looks better on you." | felix

disclaimers; lengthy amateur descriptions of kissing*, written from second person perspective, no depictions of the members' personalities, actions or thoughts reflect their true character.

pairing; felix x gender neutral reader

synopsis; sometimes the greatest thing two best friends can do is kiss.

content; fluff, best friends to lovers, make out session. | word count; 690+

prompt credits: one from @nightprompts & four from @luvmake

felix’s eyes darkened with an alluring desire as they remained trained on your lips.

“can i kiss you?” he beguilingly utters.

with bated breath, you nod zealously in response.

“are you sure about this-”

you dive in, wanting to be consumed by the waves of his ocean. his waxen hands come up to cup your cheeks as you crane to the right. felix matches the lapping movement of your plush lips as they latch onto his in a chase to satisfy years of unfruitful yearning.

the kiss begins as a harmonious ebb and flow of passion, the two of you lost in a vicious current, pushing and pulling at each other, before you relinquish all your defences to him.

felix hoists you closer into his lap, curling an arm around your waist to secure you in place. your mouths not parting for a single moment, except to exchange a sweet breath.

lead by prurience, you both plunge back into the depths, slashing the tether of friendship to uncover each other’s true feelings.

the sweet sensation of his lips against yours is riveting. it awakens all your senses: stirring your butterflies from their perennial slumber as your heart rate soars, revelling in the euphoria.

combing your fingers through his raven tendrils, you lightly tug at the strands, eliciting a series of soft blissful sighs from him.

the trivial implications you agonized over at the thought of kissing your best friend simply don't matter anymore.

everything feels so right.

like a new dawn breaking over the horizon to clear the morning haze, or the waves that return to the shore after a treacherous journey out at sea. the wall of tension and the hesitant tandem between the two of you dissolves, crumbling to dust in mere seconds.

you are convinced his radiating warmth is the liquid gold that seeps through your imperfections; the kintsugi that reinvigorates your despondent soul and allows you to embrace your flawed self.

you hoped to eternalise the lingering spark of electricity that flows through you whenever his fingertips brush against your bare skin.

in a rhapsodic daze, you breathlessly pull away.

"my heart is all yours, lix" you whisper.

lulled into a sweet reverie of his own, he begins lovingly peppering a trail of soft, feathery kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

"you look so pretty like this," he gushes quietly.

his lips move back to ghost teasingly over yours.

he inches closer, confessing: "i've waited years. i needed this, needed you."

however, an abrupt knock on the wood of the bedroom door startles the pair of you, and you manoeuvre rather clumsily out of his hold.

“won’t be a minute,” felix vexingly calls out.

you stumble off the bed, attempting to smooth the dishevelled collar of your blouse, and give yourself a once over in the full-length mirror besides felix’s vanity.

you gasp, timidly taking in the sight of faint crimson spots blotted along your jawline. the pigment traces down to the pulse point just above your clavicle. an effusive bout of heat crawls across your face, it bleeds into the tips of your ears and, in its wake, a pink glow dusts your cheeks.

a low chuckle sounds from felix as he leaves the bed to position himself directly behind you.

he leans in, bringing you flush to his chest, warm hands planted on the curve of your waist. through the close proximity, you become cognizant of his heart's incessant drumming; an amusing parallel to the nonchalance that masks his features.

your watchful eyes observe felix as he takes a makeup wipe from the vanity draw and deftly swipes it over your stained skin. once done and having taken a moment to admire his clean work, he pointedly reaches for a lip tint, and slips the petite cosmetic barrel into your palm.

when you inspect it a little closer, you realise the shade is identical to the product smeared on the wipe. the edges of your lips upturn in a shy fashion.

“keep it,"

you glance up at him, capturing your reflection in his dilated pupils, and find the lovesick grin he adorns mirroring your own.

"it looks better on you.”

consider reading more: masterlist

૮₍ ´˶• ᴥ •˶` ₎ა note; i really wanted to create something cute with felix, but this ended up on the opposite end of the spectrum... please let me know if you enjoyed it, or if you have any constructive feedback! © stayfortwominutes ; september 20, 2023.

268 notes · View notes

keppa-nero · 6 days ago

Note

What do you think would be bill's reaction if the reader asked him to dance?

I've had some other requests I'm still thinking on how to do but goddamn if I'm doing this one right ahead 🗿

[Getting these images from random

Google searches btw xd]

Bill Williamson x Male! Reader;

Fluff

ASKING HIM TO DANCE

TW: Homophobic slurs mentioned \ Pretty short

Bill Williamson.

Oh he was the gang's dumb, big, stubborn, lazy man that everyone knew from exactly that description.

And, Bill being Bill, he didn't like it, he hated being seen as someone 'weak', as he for some reason thinks everyone sees him as. But he still couldn't help but live up to those expectations.

It doesn't help that, absolutely every member of his gang, probably even Jack had heard about, knew he liked men. Despite all his claims about "Having done it with Abigail, like any other in the group", no one even believed he could look a woman any way other than with annoyance.

Tonight though, while he sat next to the campfire after having some of Pearson's god awful fish stew, Bill had a beer in hand and was already thinking about spending the rest of the night drinking himself to sleep, as any other night he isn't doing night watch.

Camp was quite calm since they were having one of those nights where they just enjoyed some drinks, talked, sang, and the ones that had anything close to a partner danced to the ambience. Of course Bill, instead, just tried to make himself invisible between the rest like he wasn't feeling miserable about himself, his mind still full of that failed train heist two weeks ago, overthinking it as his fault. It was just what was clouding his mind at the moment.

So of course he didn't hear or see you approaching.

When you almost timidly reached out your hand to him, your other hand behind your back in a respectful manner, and asked him to dance... Well he didn't take it all well.

He thought you were joking. I mean of course, who'd want to willingly even want to touch Bill Williamson? You were a fine man, an attractive one in his own eyes. You were manly, gentle, and all woman in their right eyesight would fall for you, at least in. His own. Eyes.

You must be just putting on a joke to humiliate him even more.

He swatted your hand away with a frown, standing up quickly as he tried to make himself look as big and intimidating as posible so you wouldn't see past his hurt pride, leaving the beer on the log he was sitting on and glaring at you, ignoring his urge to break eye contact and check if anyone around was seeing the situation.

"You must think I'm an idiot, huh? What's with you? You think you can make a fool out of me? Y'see I ain't a goddamn girl for you to ask me out like a fag-" He simply started spitting at you in a low growly voice, his hand on your chest to push you back, roughly.

It made you freak out a little, looking back at him with a slightly open mouth with no words to come out, glancing around as if to double check no one peered. You knew very well how he was, how he'd just have the punch reflect up at any moment.

"No- Hey Bill-..." You rushed your voice quietly to not attract attention, reaching out for his hand to try to make him listen, but he just backed it away with a confused yet almost offended narrowing of his eyes.

"I ain't gon-" He started to argue back, but you quieted him down again and grabbing his hand with both of yours, making him fall in complete silence.

"No I'm- I'm... Being honest, I want to dance with you, it ain't a joke or nothing, I just wanted to ask for... Your... Ehm- H-Honest answer, without anyone around" You cleared your throat mid-sentence after realizing how eager you must have sounded like, and just looked at his eyes with a silent hopeful gaze now. It's like the embarrassment had shifted to you now.

You both just stared at each other for some long seconds while Bill processed each of your words, analyzing every letter you said and trying to mentally guess if you were being genuine or not.

"Uh-... The hell? You crazy...?" He muttered with his gaze down, silence falling between the two. He back at you and raised his eyebrows slowly as he realized you meant it. "Oh, really?- Like?... Now?..."

His eyes darted to your hands on his, and had to clear his throat too after realizing how much like a little boy he had to look like.

He was the type to get all red and flustered over someone brushing his pinky.

He trailed off in a similar manner as you did earlier, eyes widening and then darting everywhere as he nodded frantically, grumbling in a low tone to make up for his stutter just now.

"Yeah of course, uh, just because you want... Uh..."

It made you smile widely seeing his reaction and affirmation, taking the initiative and forgetting your own racing heart, as you guided him a bit farther from the fire to listen to the others singing and have more space, also to avoid the most probable guys from insulting or laughing at you two.

"You just, you know, place your hand on my shoulder and I'll do the same" You spoke below your usual pitch, placing your hand on his shoulder and the other one on his waist.

Him though, was still completely freaking out mentally, looking at your eyes with his wide as plates, noticing how he was acting and, once more, tried to cover it up and did as you said, with a quick "Yeah sure" under his breath, putting his hand on your shoulder while the other awkardly rested on your forearm, looking down at his own limbs like they were alien.

You couldn't deny you two looked like teenagers with a crush on each other holding hands with the way you dumbly smiled and he stood quiet, not an uncomfortable or awkard quiet, but just a flattered and happy one.

His eyes were darting all around you when you two started dancing, trying to follow your feet movements to not step on each other, without realizing how hard he was pressing his lips to not say something stupid or blurt out non sense.

You though, were looking directly at his eyes like nothing else was around, pretty much sharing the same feeling as him as in, nervousness and happiness. Which only spiked up when he was secure enough to not be scared to mess up.

"This is- They'd call me a fag for this one" He grumbled again while his gaze got hopeless and lost in yours.

You instead chuckled, well, more like giggled, bringing him a bit closer while you two danced in a sweet slow.

"While they don't see us... I think we're fine" You said in a whisper.

The dance ended after whatever group of drunks stopped singing from a distance, and you two pulled away. Bill though, couldn't help the detail to take your hand and quickly kissing your knuckles softly, pulling them back like it'd bite him.

But he just went red after you decided to kiss his forehead after tipping up his hat, finding it endearing how he reacted to any small detail.

"What about we two go, uh, do this in Valentine or something next time... If you want to, I mean, less people know us there" He then suggested nervously after forcing eye-contact with you, his lips moving up into a smile as dumb and sweet as yours, just that his, being Bill's, didn't look as friendly. Yet in your eyes it did.

"Of course, yeah... I'll- I think I'm gonna go sleep already anyways... You uhm, have a good night eh" Your voice left your mouth awkwardly, tipping your own hat down as a gentleman wave off, like you usually did, just that this time you swear your hands were trembling slightly, just like Bill's did when you held it.

And like that, you walked off to your personal tent, after hearing his own silent 'See you later'.

It was incredible how it managed to break down a man as Bill's walls, making him a nervous mess and think about this moment for the rest of the night and the rest of the week, until you two met this privately again. At least it wasn't one-sided, it was weird seeing an attractive, gaze-driving man like you get all mushy too...

You'd like sharing a cigarette with him, honestly.

_______________________________________

There it is. YA HAVE IT, PLEASE TELL ME YOU LIKE IT, I TRIED NOT TO BE TOO MUSHY BUT IT CAME OUT KINDA LIKE IT 🦐

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption two #bill williamson #rdr2 x male reader #male reader #bill williamson x reader #red dead fandom #gay #fluff #headcanon #short #cutie pie

43 notes · View notes

tavs-tressym · 4 months ago

Text

Delicious Denial - Chapter Eight

(AO3 Link) | Master List | Ko-Fi

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav (You)

Word Count: 4360 (approx)

Tags: Fluff, eventual smut, domestic fluff, camp life, slow burn romance, sexual tension (A LOT).

WARNING: Contains graphic & gory description of injury, references to abuse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A reimagining of the game's events if Tav had zero magical or fighting ability. But she's still pretty fucked up. 👍

(Lots of comforting camp life content)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Tav and Gale go on a little adventure... 💖

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Eight - Echoes

How many things can fit into a backpack? It doesn’t matter, really. You will make them fit. Each bag is a new set of struggles. Does Gale really need this many scrolls? He sits nearby, inspecting the sunlight reflecting on a dark purple, egg shaped stone in his hand.

It’s not gonna’ fit, it’s not gonna’ fit, it’s not gonna’- Oh would you look at that, it fits…

Kind of…

It’s bulging in every place it can, but it will hold. As long as nobody handles it too roughly… With a sigh, you attempt to lift it. “Hnngghh!” It’s not budging and you almost pulled a muscle.

Gale turns to you and slips the stone into his pocket, coming to your aid. “Oh, Tav. Here, allow me.” He bends and rises but, much to his surprise, halts as the bag refuses to lift from the ground. “Oh… Heh… It’s er- a heavy one, isn’t it?” He tries again. You struggle to hide the grin on your face as he turns red with effort. He steps back and clears his throat, determined to save his pitiful display of strength by casting Reduce on it. It shrinks to half it’s size and is significantly cuter. He picks it up with ease, smiles at you and places it with the rest of the packed up camp supplies.

You smirk. “Thank you…”

You glance at the pile of luggage gathered in the centre of camp and sigh. Once Astarion had left after your… Tryst… You had continued your day with a twisted contortion of emotion in your gut. You were dreading his return that evening, unsure of how the dynamic between you would have shifted. The both of you had, luckily, managed to keep your little secret, and you avoided him like the plague as he glanced at you, busying yourself with imaginary chores and absentmindedly itching the little scabs on your neck.

This morning, you continued as though nothing had happened. His ‘breakfast’ was prepared, well before he had exited his tent. He approached it with a difficult to read expression on his face. You probably could have identified it if you had looked at it for longer than a second, but you didn’t. “Thank you.” He said bluntly, tinged with disappointment that the cold, metallic rim of the cup would be pressed against his lips, rather than the soft, warm flesh of your neck.

He hadn’t expected this to feel so… Detached. He wondered how things would have been different if he had pleased you in the way you had pleased him. He silently kicked himself for it. For his audacity to think that he could enjoy you, even though you had been clear in the dismissal of his attempts to reciprocate. You were playing coy, of course you were…

You didn’t respond with much, just a simple nod and the slightest of smiles.

He glances at you now from across the camp, as he polishes his dagger. You don’t understand yourself, much less him. What is he thinking? You had a great time with him, didn’t you? Then why do you feel… Guilty?

Ugh… I can’t deal with this right now…

The camp suddenly begins to feel claustrophobic. You can’t stay here today, you need some space. Gale holds the stone in his hand once again, feeling it’s weight. “What is it?” You ask, moving closer to inspect it.

He looks up at you, then back at the stone. “I’m not entirely sure… It’s not just a pretty stone, I know that much. There’s something about it… Something deeper.”

“Hmm…” He tentatively hands it over to you for a second opinion. As you bring it closer to your eyes, you almost get lost in it’s swirling glow. You hadn’t noticed it before, but as it almost throbs with energy before you, this amethyst could be mistaken for having a soul.

“It’s… It’s really something.”

“It is, isn’t it?” He says, taking it back from you. “I’m almost certain we missed something when we found it. But, with our time limit, I haven’t had the chance to explore it further.”

You nod understandingly. “Where did you find it?”

“In some blighted village, just west of here. It was overrun with goblins, but since we secured the grove… Well, let’s just say they haven’t been much of a problem for us anymore.” He winks.

“So… It’s safe?” You ask, eagerly.

He raises a curious eyebrow. “It’s clear of goblins, I don’t know about ‘safe’. Why?”

“Well, we have some time now. We could always do a quick once over before we leave.” You say, trying to act nonchalant about it. Gale looks around at the other party members who are in the midst of organising and packing their belongings.

He smiles softly, shaking his head. “I don’t think the others are quite ready to go on a last minute adventure.”

You shrug. “Who said anything about them joining us? We could go together, just… You and me?”

His smile fades into a firm expression as he shakes his head. “Oh… N-no, Tav. I don’t think that’s a good idea. It could be dangerous. We don’t even know if there’s anything worth finding.”

You sigh and struggle to hide the annoyance on your face. Being useless is really starting to get old. “Gale,” You begin, calmly. “You said it yourself, it’s clear of goblins. Come on, I’m sick of being stuck here all day. Just this once, please? Before we leave?”

“I… I don’t know…”

Locking eyes with him, you stroke his arm and lean in closer. “I trust you to protect me. You can do that, can’t you?” He swallows hard and you swear you heard it. It takes a decent amount of self control not to release the chuckle that’s bubbling up in your throat. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out, instead he just nods, his cheeks reddening rapidly.

-----------------------------------------------------

The gravel beneath your feet crunches with each step towards the village. Neither of you had made a big deal about leaving. Gale uttered some small thing about it to Karlach as he filled your pack with a few too many precautionary potions. But you chose not to say anything to anyone for fear of being convinced to stay. Side by side you walk, he catches you up on their adventure so far. He goes into detail about his strange dreams and his feelings for each party member. He’s polite about them all, but you can tell that the less he says about someone, the more he distrusts them. As he yaps, you realise that he hasn’t asked you a question about yourself in over an hour. Usually, this would offend you, but today, you’re glad to be the listener.

“Anyway, enough about me. How have you been, Tav?” He smiles, genuinely.

Ughhhh…

“I’ve been fine, nothing much to say, really.” You shrug.

“Oh, come now. I know you aren’t on the front lines but you’re still part of this… Us… And, I want to know more about you.” He nudges your arm.

You sigh. “Well… Would you believe me if I said that having a mind-flayer tadpole inserted into my orbital socket isn’t the worst thing to have happened to me?” You laugh softly, trying to make light of the situation.

He chuckles in response. “From the sounds of it, you aren’t alone. It seems we all have our baggage.”

“True…” You nod with a smile.

You walk together in purposeful silence. He wants you to fill it, but in your own time, and you appreciate that. “Can I ask you something… About Mystra?” His eyes widen and he glances at you in surprise. He nods. “Were you in love?”

“I… Well…” He spoke as though he had an answer ready to go, an ‘obvious’ one. But he caught himself and for the first time in years, really thought about it. “Yes… But… It was more than that... More than love, in a way. It felt as though it transcended what anything but gods could feel… But, alas, I’m not a god. So, who knows, really?” He looks forward in thought. “Why do you ask?”

You take a deep breath and look forward too. “I think I was in love too, once. But like you said, it was complicated. My love wasn’t the goddess of magic or anything,” You chuckle. “But she was mine, and I was hers… But… After some time, she tipped the balance…”

“What do you mean?” He asks, now giving you his full attention.

“Belonging to each other didn’t feel like it used to. Especially since she started implementing rules.” You scoff and shake your head. “And they were such ridiculous rules, too. I can’t believe I ever actually followed them.” Then there’s a pause. A pause that leaves you feeling awkward and like you’re taking up too much space.

“Were you scared of her?” He breaks the silence, eyes not leaving your face.

You chew on the inside of your cheek as you contemplate the question. “I think I was more scared of losing her. I didn’t know who I was without her… Sometimes, I still don’t…” His eyes widen in recognition. These feelings you describe, he knows them all too well. “What is it?” You ask softly.

“I just… Didn’t realise how similar we are, that’s all.” He smiles weakly. His hand itches to hold yours, not necessarily romantically, but more as a gesture of solidarity. But, he refrains, not wanting to cross any boundaries. “Thank you, for telling me that, Tav.” His smile strengthens.

-----------------------------------------------------

The smoke hits your nose first. The scent is pleasant yet dark as you look upon the dilapidated structures around you. The floor is scorched and littered with bodies. Although they mostly seem to be goblins, the sight of their half-cooked viscera still makes your heart twist in tandem with your stomach. You try to hide it, but this aftermath of brutality is still shocking to your untrained eyes. “I know, it’s ugly. But, we wouldn’t be alive had we not resorted to such measures…” Gale says as he guides you through the village.

You pull your eyes from the scene and shake off any lingering feelings with a sigh. “So, did you search all of these buildings?” You ask, attempting to move on.

“Hmm, not thoroughly.”

“Alright, let’s split up and start searching for anything magical, then.” You say, already heading towards one of the buildings before he can protest. You walk inside and inspect the interior.

Dried, hanging greenery acts as curtains above a counter, littered with empty potion bottles and multicoloured dust. A book sits amongst the clutter and you open it, flicking through journal entries until you discover a clue. There’s a cellar beneath this place. Looking around, it isn’t immediately obvious where it is. Thrilled to have an objective, you search the area: Peeling back dusty rugs and peering over counters. As you move through the room, your footsteps are nothing but quiet little thumps on the wood, until they’re suddenly louder. You experimentally stomp your foot again. Hollow.

Found it…

You open it up and almost jump straight in, eager and fuelled by your desire for adventure. But, you don’t really fancy another lecture from Gale so you call him over. He hurries over, surprisingly quickly with a brief panic on his face before he sees that you’re perfectly fine. “Tav-! Oh, did you find something?”

“Er-Yeah, a cellar, I think. Let’s check it out.”

He nods and steps forward, peering down into the dark cellar. He casts Light on his staff and heads down first to ensure that it’s safe before helping you down the ladder.

Moving through the cellar and it’s openings into a small cave, you pass by multiple wooden caskets on the floor. “Strange…” Gale comments as he looks over each one, not daring to open them.

“This doesn’t seem like your typical burial ground.” You say, crouching before one of the caskets.

“No, it does not.” He shakes his head and looks at you, as you begin to pry open one of the lids. “W-wait, stop. We don’t know what could be in these.”

“Exactly, one of them could have what we’re looking for.” You say dismissively as you continue to loosen the lid. He takes your hands and moves them away from the casket. “Hey!”

“Shh, look.” He points to a large, ornate mirror, embedded in the wall nearby. “Now, that looks more promising, doesn’t it?” You narrow your eyes at him and huff, irritated that he’s right. Rolling your eyes, you walk ahead as he chuckles behind you.

You both stand before the mirror, you lean in and inspect it as Gale appreciates the reflection of you standing beside each other. “I don’t get it, what is-AH!” You’re interrupted by your image in the material warping into a face. It speaks.

“Speak your name…”

You look between Gale and the mirror, holding your tongue. You shrug at him, he shrugs back. It becomes a short battle of shrugs and silent gestures, fighting to get the other person to respond. Gale concedes with a sigh. “Er- Gale… Of Waterdeep.”

“I do not know this name… If you are known to my master, step forward and declare yourself an ally…”

You both share panicked looks, unsure of the best next move. Gale clears his throat. “Um… Yes, we are your master’s allies... May you grant us passage?”

“Only a true ally of Ilyn Toth, may pass… What think you of the zulkir known as Szass Tam?”

Gale scoffs at the question, as though the answer is obvious. You haven’t the faintest idea who the mirror refers to, but as your companion turns to you with a knowing look, expecting you to scoff with him, you do so… Albeit, a lot less convincingly.

“A foul lich. May he die a thousand more deaths.” He replies, confidently.

“You are no zulkir… But are you wise? Tell me, why might one use balsam ointment?”

“Balsam… Hmm, I swear I’ve read about this… Just give me a moment, it’ll come back to me-”

“It cleans wounds.” You say, matter-of-factly. Gale raises an eyebrow at you as you interject and turns back to the mirror.

“Acceptable, finally… If you could see anything in me, what would it be?”

Gale thinks on the question, mulling it over to form the perfect articulation of the vision in his mind. “I'd see myself in my next incarnation: a living manifestation of Netherese magic. A mythal in my own right.”

“You seek to survive… You seek power… And your companion? What of their desired reflection?”

Gale steps aside for you to take his place, you hesitantly do so and think. Thankfully, the mirror is patient as it anticipates your response. Gale’s interest in your answer grows, the longer you contemplate it. It has been a good few years since you’ve pondered this question. This… Insignificant question. You grasp for anything in your mind to fill the space where your answer should sit. You don’t find much. Gods, it’s frustrating…

What do I want?

There are faint, truthful answers that echo in the back of your mind. Alas, you refuse to hear them, for they echo not only truth, but painful truth. Truth that doesn’t look quite right: Warped and ugly. You don’t recognise them, they don’t look like you, but your soul holds onto them for dear life. This really is a stupid, fucking question… “I… I don’t know…”

“Pathetic… You will be purged…” The mirror responds.

Your reflections warp as the mirror appears to bulge in it’s centre. A spherical shape emerges from the surface of the mirror. You step back but your curious eyes encourage you to lean in, to inspect the strange construct before you. There’s light. A furious orange creeps through the gaps of steel, reaching out to you. It grows only stronger, brighter, hotter.

Gale yanks you to the side to take cover as the whirring of the machine crescendos and a stream of concentrated flame scorches the floor, causing the earth to rupture in a powerful yet contained explosion. “Stay here.” He commands as the sphere continues it’s patrol around the area, leaving an ember trail behind. Your heart is beating faster than you’d like to admit as you watch the construct continue to create similar combustions, sending ripples of vibration through the ground and awakening the rotted residents of the scattered caskets.

They emerge from their resting places, bones grinding as they drag their skeletal bodies from their coffins. In their reanimation, you can see the faintest glint of afterlife in their deep, dark eye sockets. A purple, dim magic that binds their bones together and demands that they pursue their targets. As they begin their advance, Gale steps forward and confidently recites words that you’ve only ever heard, but never understood. His eyes glow with the same light that emits from his fluid hands as a gust of flames engulf the nearest undead assailants.

You retreat, scurrying backwards and pressing your back against the cold mirror. Your companion stands proudly, determined to protect. He manipulates the weave with expert precision, so much so that you’ve lost track of where one string of Latin ends and another begins. You see a frenzy of vicious colour and pattern travel from his hands to your foes, vanquishing them in varied yet equally violent ways. Bones are incinerated, marrow is electrified and cartilage is forced apart.

Safety lies behind his capable hands and so you stay put, wide eyed and darting your gaze across the room, attempting to follow the events of combat. The sphere construct’s patrol awakens more restless undead and surrounds the area with the cinders of burnt coffins. The force of both Gale’s and the construct’s explosions causes the stalactites to quiver above, some crashing to the ground and splintering into shrapnel. Shrapnel that embeds itself into Gale’s flesh, forcing him to crumble to the ground before you.

“Gale!” You cry out, only to be responded to with a pained groan as he clutches his wounded torso. You dare not scramble towards him, not with the nearing threat of several skeletal fighters approaching him. You pant and try to think. You remove your backpack and open it, frantically searching it for something that can help.

Shit, shit, shit! Come on! There has to be something in here! Anything!

Invisibility. Perfect.

You waste no time pouring the vial into your mouth and gulping it down. You observe your hands flickering in and out of transparency as it takes effect, until you are gone.

Boned fingers grasp at Gale’s body, eager to tear him apart. Trembling into a standing position, you observe the scene before you, searching for escape. There is none. Tears prickle the corners of your eyes as you try to grapple with the knowledge that this could be your end. You look to your fallen companion, overwhelmed by enemies and desperately trying to form the eloquence that his speech once had, to no avail. Then, it occurs to you what will happen once his body is lifeless and can no longer contain the tempest within him.

You need him. Shit. Fucking shit. You need him alive.

Reaching into your bag once more, you retrieve a healing potion and begin to step forward, but your hesitation halts your movement. Your mind screams and thrashes within your body, demanding that you move. Slow, terrifying steps forward, each one enduring the strain of defying your instincts.

Hands shield his face as he writhes beneath each vicious blow. Death in battle, to some, may be an honourable, favourable way to go. But, until he was infected with the tadpole, he never truly felt he had the capability to die. Mystra’s Chosen, a prodigy from birth… Reduced to nothing but a failed footnote in history by, what? A mere group of skeletons? He feels the orb stir as his strength wanes and his tragically human body fails him, time and time again. He clutches at his chest and grimaces as the orb begins to spread it’s vicious, burning heat into his nerves.

He pants and glances to where you once were, only to find it void and cold without your presence. Frantically, he darts his gaze around, trying to find you until a comforting, soft warmth holds his face. Feeling the pad of a finger peeling back his lower lip, guiding his mouth to open, he obeys and follows the movement. His tongue tingles with the rejuvenating liquid. It absorbs into his mouth and welcomes the familiar taste to mend his wounds and give him strength. A slight break in the rhythm of the skeletons’ onslaught affords him the moment he needs to utter the poetry he so desperately needs to save his life.

“Detono.”

A thunderous force throws both you and the skeletons away from Gale, hurtling you towards the mirror. A distant echo of a soul wails and the construct clatters to the ground as the mirror shatters from the impact, and you land in a bed of glass shards. They score deep lacerations into your back, but with the wind forced from your lungs, your gaping mouth produces no scream.

Echoes of muffled incantation and vicious impact from beyond the mirror slowly come to an end. A stumbling, adrenaline-filled Gale searches the area for you, rushing into the room to find a growing pool of blood coating fragmented glass. His eyes widen and he rushes towards it. “Tav?! Is that you?!” He cries, searching the empty, red space before him for any sign of you.

Lips part but nothing comes out, you reach out to touch him. He gasps softly as he feels the tug on his robe. “Gods, Tav…” He exclaims as he reaches for your pack and reaches out, expecting to graze the various, precautionary vials he had prepared earlier. Instead, his fingertips snag against jagged edges. “No…” He breathes and pulls the bag open to it’s widest span, searching the inside, finding it’s iridescently damp, geode-like interior, with protruding shards from the broken bottles lining the leather.

You lay prone, your pained countenance flickering back into perceivable as the potion’s effect wanes. You manage to speak, voice strained and barely audible. “W-what is it…?”

Gale frantically tries to think. “I need to get you out of here. Now.”

Your eyes widen as you detect the solemnity in his tone. It hurts, sure, but could you die from this? From something as pathetic, as this? You attempt to push yourself up into a seated position, releasing choked groans. Gale helps you up as your strength is about to falter. You take his aid and eventually manage to stand together. Panting from the exertion, you glance around.

A suspended, large, animal skeleton looms over the room, you couldn’t say what the creature once was, only that it must have been formidable. There’s a slab in the centre, the perfect size for an operating table, stained with brown streaks of what must be blood. Beside a grand fireplace, in the corner, a young, stuffed bear watches over the area with beaded, black, lifeless eyes. Then, you notice iron bars. A gate. Beyond, is a luminescent, violet presence that matches the hue of the amethyst that Gale carries.

Blinded by determination, you attempt to step towards it, only to be halted by your companion. “What are you doing?! We must leave!” He drags you along, towards the exit, but you fight him. Weakly, but stubbornly enough to make him listen.

“There!” You wheeze, gesturing with a point of your trembling finger, towards the violet light.

He follows your gaze and peers beyond the gate to find the same, palpable energy that emanates from whatever lies beyond. He can’t help but feel drawn to it, to the power that it must hold. Realising that he’s been leaning towards it and staring for a little too long, he pulls himself back, shaking his head.

“Tav, no.” He states firmly, feeling a pang of loss at the potential that lies before him. You writhe in his grasp once again, only to be restrained. “Stop s-struggling!”

“It’s what we came for!” You croak.

“I-it does not matter!” He strains, attempting to drag you along, only to be interrupted by a pulsing, squirming in his mind as your tadpole reaches out to his.

Your voice crashes and booms in his skull, desperate and far too loud. “Get it, now!” He groans as his ears ring, nearly falling and taking you with him. He glares at you with frustration and concern. “Please…” You whisper within him, pleading with your eyes, soothing the ache in his head with a subtler sound.

He sighs, knowing you will only continue to fight him if he doesn’t do as you ask. He hurriedly leans you against a wall and wastes no time ripping the gate apart with a thunderous incantation. Spotting a trap nearby, he quickly casts Mage Hand to retrieve whatever lies beyond the cloud of dust.

Flesh, stretched over a locked book. A book with amethyst eyes and a gaping maw, ready to receive it’s key. He takes it from his spectral assistant and the moment he touches it, he feels it throb. Pulse. Almost as though there are functional veins beneath the skin. It whispers to him, incoherently. Warnings, no doubt.

Deciding to examine it properly later, he pulls his gaze away from the alluring, violet stones and tucks it into his pack. He rushes towards you and you, finally, willingly let him lead the way. “There. Now we really must go.”

You smile weakly and nod. Pale and dazed.

-----------------------------------------------------

Cold and black.

Hot and white.

Echoes.

“What the fuck, Gale?!”

“Not now, Karlach, please! Where is Shadowheart?!”

“I’m here!”

“Hurry!”

“I told you this was a bad idea!”

“I know, damn it! I know! But now is hardly the time!”

More cold and more black.