#but ooo it is an exciting space | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bi-writes · 4 months ago

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Ooo ooo ooo know what I think Simon in MOB would love?? a fashion show after he picks up his girl from shopping. I mean she seems like the kinda of girl to show off what she got, cuz simply she’s just so excited and he’s just so grateful for a show from his little love

mail-order bride (18+)

it's always raining lately. the weather has been cooling as the winter months get closer, and the rain has been a constant reminder of the days coming that would be spent inside.

simon didn't mind spending time inside. he liked being inside, in his house, away from others. when he was home, it was just you there. thing 1 and thing 2 occasionally appear, but it's you that takes up the space in the kitchen watching your dough rise impatiently, you that takes up that corner spot on the couch with your favorite knit blanket with a terrible movie on. the sight of that, he'll never get over it--he'll never get used to the pretty girl that lives in his house and wears his ring and sleeps in his bed and says his last name when they ask her, "your name, ma'am?"

his phone buzzes in his pocket as he ducks his head to get into his truck. he pulls it out, sighing, starting up the car when he reads your message.

all done! waiting at the corner.

when he turns onto the main street, he sees you standing at the corner with your umbrella, waving at him with a big smile. he can't help the one that blooms under his mask; fuck, he's beaming whenever he looks at you.

he puts the car in park, coming out to greet you. you hop on your toes as he comes around the car, and he dips his head under the umbrella as you stand high on your toes and kiss him over his mask.

"simon--"

"missed ya."

"it's only been a few hours--"

"'s too cold ta be out 'ere, baby, let's get ya inside."

you hum as he smooths his hands over your jaw, giving you another kiss through the mask before picking up the shopping bags that you're holding. he takes the umbrella from you, holding it as he guides you off the curb and into the passenger side of the car. he smacks your ass gently as you hop up, and you squeak when you sit down, giggling as you push at his chest.

"simon!"

"wot? wot did i do?"

"you're a dog, i swear."

"dunno wot y'mean, baby, tha's my wife in my car, and she looks bloody lovely."

you bite your lip, shaking your head.

"get in the car, simon, jeez..." you whisper, but your mind is running, and simon is looking way too good in this leather bomber jacket get-up he decided to pull out today. fuck, his arms have never looked so big, have they? has he been working out more?

just as he leans in for more, you put a hand on his chest, smiling down at him.

"slow, down, simon..." you touch your nose to his. "i got a surprise for you. let's go home, hmm?"

simon always skirts over the speed-limit, but you hold his hand extra tight as he swerves a little more than usual on the way home.

when you make it inside the warmth of your house, simon helps you take your jacket and boots off, hanging everything by the door and ripping his mask off so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck and kiss you there, his words muffled as he tries to talk between kisses, as if not kissing you might deprive him of something as necessary as breath.

"wot's the surprise?" he whispers, and you turn around to face him, giggling as he cups your cheeks and kisses you firmly, on the mouth, feverish and eager. "taste like chocolate, buy some sweets while ya were out, did ya?"

"simon--"

"fuckin' hell, don't say my name like tha'," simon groans, backing you up until you hit the wall with a gentle thud. his hand slips into your hair to cushion it, his hand taking the weight of the wall as he kisses you again, harder this time. "so pretty, tell me--"

"simon!" you laugh, "just go sit down...sit, you're so impatient--"

he can't sit still. his knee is bouncing as he sits on the couch, and he sucks on his teeth as he watches the door of your bedroom. it's closed, and he can hear you moving around behind it. a few moments later, you open the door just slightly, poking your head out with a sheepish smile.

"ready, simon?"

"fuckin' hell, ready since the day i was born."

you swing open the door, bouncing into the living room. simon raises his fist to his mouth, biting on it, and he curses under his breath when he sees you wearing the most adorable dress he's ever seen.

it won't see the light of day for a few months since it's nearing winter, but you could wear it at home all you like (he hopes you wear it every fucking day).

it's cherry red. big fluffy skirt, made up of many layers. it's made of linen, with a sweetheart neckline and short sleeves, and it is perfectly tailored to you. simon closes his eyes for a moment, fuckin' get it together, mate, and when he opens them again, you're standing there in the living room, very sheepish, hands behind your back.

"do...do you like it?" you ask. "i...they had this dress there when i went a couple weeks ago, but none of them fit, so i...i asked if we could take my measurements, and..."

"jesus fuckin' christ," simon breathes, leaning his head back against the couch. "baby, please stop talkin'. just for a minute, olright?"

"oh...okay."

simon takes a deep breath. he raises his palms to his eyes, and he rubs them hard. he keeps his eyes closed as he shifts his hips, smoothing a big palm down his stomach before taking a look at you again. he groans a little when he sees you again, standing there all shy, timid, nervous.

"give me a spin, luv," simon murmurs. you take the hem of your skirt and do a small twirl for him, spinning on your toes in the living room. simon clenches his jaw as he watches the skirt flutter a little, the layers underneath swishing and then falling over your thighs again. simon adores a good skirt; it's his favorite thing in the world to put his hands up them, to fondle the lace or cotton of your panties underneath it, to watch your chest rise and fall in panting breaths when he takes you apart with his fingers. he's in love with the way your breasts will fill the neckline of your dress, practically spill over when you bend at the hip and present yourself for him.

christ, he needs to fuck you.

simon cups himself through his jeans, and he relishes in the way your eyes widen. he unbuckles his belt, popping the button and shoving his jeans down until they sit just low enough that he can take himself out. your knees buckle a little as you watch him, your lips parting as you stare at the way he spits into his hand and spreads his wet palm over the tip of him.

"simon," you whisper, your hands wringing together as he tilts his head to the side and smooths his hand down his length. he grunts, shaking his head.

"pull y'r dress down," he murmurs, and you grow warm all over. your toes curl a bit; he's so big, tip nice and wet and pink. the girth of him shocks you, but it's always felt so nice in your mouth. you know how good it'll feel inside you, when you sit on him finally, when he-- "pull it down, baby."

you swallow hard, slipping the sleeves down your shoulders a little. you push it down just a little, just until your tits fall over the neckline and spill out. simon groans loud, his hand moving just a little faster, his head shaking a little more.

"come 'ere, baby," he says lowly, patting his lap. "come 'ere, let me put my mouth on ya."

you walk over shakily, making your way to him. you put your hands on the back of the couch before you settle with both knees on either side of him. as soon as your tits dangle in his face, he's leaning up and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. you gasp, arching your back, and even with your skirt covering your laps, you can still hear the wet slap, slap, slap of simon's wet palm frantically pumping his cock.

"fuck--fuck," simon croaks, letting your go. there's a bit of drool pooling along the side of his mouth, and he swallows it down before nodding towards you. "sit back, sweet'art, let me see--"

you put one palm on his knee, leaning back, and use your other hand to gather up your skirt and lift it. simon sucks on his teeth as he sees your cunt, wet panties sticking to it, and he moves his hand a little faster.

"please cum, simon," you beg, your fingers pushing your panties aside. his face falters a little, his hand moving just a little sloppier, and you whimper. "please--please give it to me--"

he lets out a low breath as he cums, aiming at your cunt and watching as he paints your folds. you use your fingers to spread it, dipping your fingers inside yourself with a whine before moving them against your clit gently. simon uses his other hand to grip your hip, drawing you just close enough that he can smooth his cock through your folds, spreading your slick and his own cum and making a mess between your thighs. he chuckles, hearing you cry out, and you meet his eyes with tears.

"just the tip," you beg, moving your fingers along your clit faster. simon grins, so mean, licking his lips. he makes no move to help you, but he doesn't put himself back in his pants, either. "simon, j-just the tip--c-can i have just the tip?"

"oh, just the tip, luvvie?" simon murmurs. "think ya can take it? just tha'?"

"please--!"

your fingers are in a frenzy. it's so close, you can feel it, that beautiful mountain, you're climbing it, clawing your way up, and you just need a little more.

"simon!"

you nearly fall backwards. if it wasn't for his hand gripping your hip, you would've, but he catches you easily, his brows furrowing together as the tip of him slips inside of you nice and easy. your hips jerk a bit, rolling as you use just that much of him inside of you to bring yourself closer and closer and closer--

"fuck," simon breathes when he feels you cum. you tighten, sucking him in just a little more as you spill around him. globs of sticky slick pool along his cock, and you use a shaky hand to grip him gently and keep him there. even with just the tip, it feels so nice to be connected to him, to have him inside you, even just a little. your brain feels fuzzy and warm, your legs feeling blissfully weak as your spine melts a little into his hand just enough. he leans you forward until you're resting on his chest, and you squeak when he slips out of you. simon wraps his arms around your waist to keep you close, and your eyes flutter shut as you mouth at his neck absentmindedly.

"can't wait for it," you whisper against his skin. he's hot there, a little sweaty, and you lick timidly up his jaw to taste him. he grips your hair tight, smiling, and he pulls you back just a little so he can look into your eyes.

"and wot are y'gonna wear when i finally have ya, aye?"

you smile back, giggling soft.

"absolutely nothing, of course."

#when? 🤠#who knows lol #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley smut #ghost smut #simon riley smut #order up

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afro-hispwriter · 7 months ago

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Interview Shenanigans(TGC)

Tom Glynn-Carney x actress!reader

Request

Warnings- not edited, brief titty grabbing

wc-1.2k

Staff members were running around making sure lighting, sound, and cameras were ready. The interviewer was standing off to the side, waiting for their queue.

Your makeup artist did some more touch ups and the show's publicist gave another talk.

“You’re so far.” Tom put his hand under your chair and dragged it so your chairs touched. The sudden movement made you grab his shoulder so you didn’t fall.

“Do you not get enough of me at home?” You whisper.

“I never can.” He flashed you a smile and squeezed your knee. You scrunched your nose at him and kissed his cheek.

It was so hard for you two to keep your relationship away from the public. Especially since Tom is extremely touchy.

“Everyone take their places.” The producer calls out and everyone takes their seats. The interviewer walked into the small space and shook you and Tom's hand. The producer then started counting down from five.

“Alright guys, we're going to jump right into it. I know you have had a long day so I have some fun questions and some would you rather.”

“I'm excited.”

“Fun.”

“You guys have been working together for a couple years now. What's the best thing about each other?” They ask and you and Tom look at each other.

“Ooo that's such a sweet question.” You smile brightly and look at Tom. “Why don’t you go first?” You look at him with squinted eyes and he gives you the same look.

“Fine. I think the best thing about Y/n is how kind she is, she is very resilient and always tries to see the bright side of things and she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

“Awww.” You cooed and smiled. “You’re so sweet.”

“And she is a good cook.” You doubled over slightly and laughed.

“I know you love it.” You leaned back against your chair and Tom looked at you lovingly and you sighed.

“Tom, he um.” You start and pause to think.

“Oh whatever should you say since there is so much to choose from.” He says over exaggerating his words making you laugh.

“Tom, he makes sure that I am seen and even if he has nothing to say he still listens, always. I believe we all need someone like that and I am glad I found him.” You grab Tom's knee and squeeze it.

“Do you fancy me or something?” He says jokingly, making you laugh again and so does the interviewer.

“He’s just such a good guy and I hope this isn’t the last time we share a screen together.” Tom nodded and lifted his fist up and you gave him a fist bump.

“That is so sweet, I can feel your chemistry right now.” It was very cheesy for them to say but it made Tom's cheeks burn red and your face warmed. “Now to some would you rather questions. Would you rather go get a pint with Daemon, Joffrey, or Aemond?”

“Aemond.” You immediately say and Tom’s head immediately shoots to you.

“Why?” You smirk at him.

“You know why.” He playfully rolled his eyes and leaned back.

“I would go with Joffrey.” Your eyes widened in shock.

“And you questioned mine!?”

“W-Why?” The interviewer asks and Tom goes to answer but stops making you laugh.

“You don’t have to say anything.” You whisper to him

“Well with Joffrey people would leave the pub and it would be quiet.”

“Yeah but I think with Joffery, three pints in and it can get a bit.” The interviewer grimaced.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to be near him.” You leaned slightly into Tom.

“I reckon I can take him though.” Tom says.

“Tom vs Joffrey?”

“Yeah I’ll just choke him out.” Tom makes the choking motion with his arm and then he dropped them.

“I'd pay to see that.” You say and Tom laughs and his arm makes its way around your chair.

“Who would you rather have as your Ride or Die? Jon Snow, Khalessi, or Daemon.”

“Khalessi.” You say immediately again. “Everyone is gone when she is an option.”

“Your obsession with her is concerning.”

“You can’t blame me.”

“She is very loyal so I understand.” The interviewer says.

“Im sorry whats a ride or die?” Tom asks, looking between you and the interviewer.

“It's like me and you.” You say and he still looked at you in confusion. “Like I will do anything for you and you’ll do anything for me no matter what.” You grabbed his knee and you nodded.

“What were the options?” Tom chuckles.

“Jon Snow, Khalessi, or Daemon.”

“Oh probably Khalessi then, you know she’s got all the dragons.”

“Ugh you are so predictable.” You rolled your eyes and he shrugged.

“I love whatever you love.” He poked your side and made you twist.

“You’re so cheesy.” You rolled your eyes playfully and looked back at the interviewer.

“Would you rather rule the seven kingdoms of Westeros or be a minister of magic in the wizarding world?”

“Oooo.” Tom lets out.

“Minister of Magic.” You say and Tom nods.

“Likewise.”

“I feel like I would have a higher chance of surviving if I was in that universe.” You say and Toms fingers dipped into the material of your open backed outfit.

“Well it's still not an easy gig is it?”

“But compared to westeros…”

“True. There are still a lot of eyes on you.” Then Tom says the stupidest thing. “Wingardium Tapioca or whatever it is.” Your jaw slacked in shock and then your face palmed. Tom looked embarrassed and slapped his legs and started laughing loudly.

“Oh my gosh Tom.” He grabbed his cup of water and took a sip.

“I'm going to go cry in the shower after this.”

“Next time we hang out we’re watching all the Harry Potter movies because that was really bad. It's Wingardium Leviosa.”

“Nerd.” Tom says under his breath in a teasing manner and you squint your eyes.

“Watch yourself sir.” You bumped him with your arm.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Unfortunately that's all the time we have left.” You and Tom groaned but you secretly knew you were happy it was over. You both held your hand out to the interviewer and Tom's assistant came up.

“The car is outside to take you back to the hotel.” You thanked them and Tom held his hand out for you to grab. Your fingers entwined together and you swung them back and forth to the car.

The hotel room was a welcome sight. Tom threw his hat on the floor and kicked his shoes off.

“They’ll come by and get these clothes tomorrow most likely.” You say taking off your bottoms, leaving you in your underwear and top. That came off too and so did your bra. Tom stole a look and he smirked and let you put a shirt on. You flopped down on the bed and settled under the covers. Tom was down to his boxers and he settled in behind you.

“I love you.” He says and kisses the back of your ear and wraps an arm around your waist.

“I love you too.” You twist your head back and pucker your lips. Tom’s lips met yours and he squeezed you. His hand dipped under the shirt and his gingers instantly grabbed a breast and he squeezed. The noise you made was a mix of shock and a moan.

“Tom!” You pinched his arm and he drew his hand back and pouted. “Perv.”

“You love it.” He gave your cheek a big wet kiss, making you grimace and wipe it off.

“Order us some food.”

‘Hmph’

Comments, reblogs, and likes are greatly appreciated!

#tom glynn carney #tom glynn carney x reader

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girlgenius1111 · 10 months ago

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someone who loves you wouldn't do this

the fourth and final chapter of family line solstråle faces some more challenges and makes some important decisions. angst. like angst... but then fluff :) cw: more of the same... poor mental health on sol's part.

it must be said that this chapter would be absolutely NOTHING compared to what it is now without @wileys-russo. for every comment you leave on this, YOU BEST leave bailey something telling her thank you, too :)

------

“Solstråle… that is just… wood. Your bed would just be on some wooden slats on the ground.”

You beamed at your sister. “I KNOW. It’s so cool. It’s like camping. But with a comfy mattress, and it’s oversized, so I don't need a nightstand, it’s like a built-in shelf! It'll go so well with my new map because the wood is the same as the frame and…”

Ingrid didn’t need to hear your reasoning; the excitement on your face was more than enough for her. She would have bought you anything, no matter how hideous, just to keep seeing this joy on your face. This alleged bed frame wasn’t even that bad; it was woodsy and earthy and the precise thing you loved.

The bed frame was the final thing you’d needed. Ingrid had come in with a gameplan, because of course she had, and you had systematically made your way through the store.

You’d seemed unsure at first, and very hesitant to really pick anything out. Mapi, meanwhile, was too excited to see that she was overwhelming you. After the 8th time you’d said the words, “I don’t know, do you like it?” your sister knew she had to step in.

Mapi was busy talking your ear off. “OOO what about this dresser? With the matching mirror? Or we could get the other mirror with this dresser and paint the wood framing so it would match. Or we could get-”

Ingrid cut her off. “María, darling, I love you, but take a breath.” You watched amused as Mapi literally took a deep breath at Ingrid’s instruction. “Okay, now go pick out a couple new mugs over there and then come back.”

Mapi nodded enthusiastically, bounding off towards the mugs. “Do not run, María Pilar!” Ingrid shouted after her, smiling to herself when Mapi slowed down to an awkward shuffle.

Your sister turned to you then, a sympathetic look on her face as you regarded her cautiously.

“Which dresser do you want?”

“I don’t-”

“No. Which dresser do you want?” Ingrid insisted.

You shrugged, looking away from your sister, and inexplicably starting to tear up. You didn't want to pick the wrong thing, and you didn’t want to make anyone buy anything for you.

The brunette put her hands on your shoulders, looking down at you insistently. “Listen, Solstråle. I want you to have a space that is yours, with things you pick, and things you like. Let me do this for you? Please?”

You sighed, nodding slowly. “I like that one.” You said softly, pointing at one of the dressers Mapi hadn’t even glanced at.

“Good.” Ingrid said. “MARÍA, come here.”

Mapi returned like a puppy being called back to its owner, with a single mug in her hands. Ingrid had been about to scold her, and tell her to stop hijacking your shopping trip, when Mapi handed out the mug towards you. You took it into your hands, turning it around until the design was facing you.

It was a ceramic mug, painted with a minimalist map of Spain. There was only one marking on the map, signifying Barcelona. It was a little sun, right on the coast, marking your new home.

“Get it? It’s a map. Like the one I got you. And it has a sun. Mapi and Solstråle. Un mapa y el sol.” She joked, clearly thinking you’d laugh, and put the mug back, as it wasn’t normally the sort of thing you’d like.

You grinned at her, though, looking between the Spaniard and your sister, who also had a big smile on her face. “Can I get it?” You asked.

Mapi looked surprised, but Ingrid just kept smiling, knowing instantly that the silly mug meant something because Mapi had seen it, and thought of you. “Of course. María, she picked out a dresser.”

“Which one?” Mapi asked, looking around excitedly.

You’d laughed, shaking your head, and pointing at the one you wanted. Ingrid was a little worried Mapi would jokingly complain that you hadn’t picked one of the ones’ she’d pointed out, and inadvertently make you feel guilty, but Mapi just nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh I didn’t see that one! Good call pequeña!”

You’d looked relieved, Ingrid felt relieved, and Mapi was just happy to be there.

-------

You couldn’t sleep. It felt dumb, laying in your new bed, in your redecorated room, but your mind just wouldn’t turn off. You’d spent the day with Ingrid and Mapi, and they’d done everything right. Everything. Your room felt like your room, now, not just the guest room. Their home felt like your home.

And yet. You were still empty. It wasn’t enough. You weren’t convinced. It didn’t make any fucking sense, because they’d gone out of their way, over and over, to show you that they loved you. That seemed like something that couldn’t be reality, though. You weren’t… loveable. How could you be? You were just you. And that had never been enough, no matter how badly you wanted it to be.

You couldn’t stand laying in bed any longer. It was too soft, too comfortable. It felt too safe, like everything was about to be ripped away from you. The living room was safer. It was so viscerally Ingrid and Mapi’s space. You didn’t have anything to lose down here.

You turned the TV on, appreciating the array of Norwegian options Ingrid was subscribed to, and put on a mindless one. You sat and watched, and tried not to think. You weren’t very successful if the way you jumped when the couch moved next to you was any indication.

“Can’t sleep?” Mapi asked, tucking herself under the blanket you were using.

“Nope.”

“Thinking about how much better you’d sleep in that race car bed we saw? That’s why I'm up.” Mapi replied wistfully, causing you to crack a smile.

“Something like that.” You replied softly. The defender studied you for a moment, before throwing an arm around your shoulder, contact you leaned into, almost on instinct.

A scene came on in the drama that was playing, one which took place in a tattoo shop. Mapi perked up, and you saw an opening to change the subject before your mood could be questioned.

“How old were you when you got your first tattoo?” You questioned.

“18. It was this one.” Mapi said excitedly, holding out her arm to point at the partially covered up tattoo. “I covered it kind of a couple years later. Would you ever get a tattoo?”

You weren’t a bad liar, but for some reason, you didn’t feel like lying to Mapi. She felt like a judgment free zone, in a way your sister didn’t. “I have one.”

Mapi looked at you in surprise. “You do? Where? What is it? When did you get it? How did you get it?” The law in Barcelona was that you could get one at 16 without parental consent, but Mapi hadn’t known when you would have done it.

You laughed at her rapid fire questions. “I got it in Norway. It was a stick and poke, I don’t even remember getting it, I was blacked out.”

Mapi tried to school her features, but you could sense her disapproval anyway. It wasn’t for the reason you expected, though. “Someone gave you a stick and poke while you were blacked out?” She asked evenly.

You just shrugged. “I asked for it, apparently.”

It was quiet for a moment while the defender tried to act like that didn’t upset her.

“What is it?” You blushed, then, and Mapi cracked a smile. “Tell me, tell me. I won’t tell your sister.”

Instead of telling, you showed her, pulling your shirt up so your rib was exposed.

So the 23 clearly inked into your skin was visible.

Mapi’s touch was delicate when she traced over it, a small smile on her lips.

“23, huh?”

You shrugged. “It was the only thing I asked for, apparently. I couldn’t remember the number, I was so drunk, but I made someone google what it was, and then… got it.”

“That’s really sweet.” Mapi said quietly.

“Hope she doesn’t change her number.” You said quickly, trying not to linger on the sentimentality of it all.

“Eh. You can always turn it into something else. Tattoo cover ups aren’t that expensive.” Mapi said casually, knowing exactly who was just a few steps from the family room. Sue her if she wanted to see Ingrid’s reaction to your tattoo.

“Tattoo? TATTOO? You have a tattoo, solstråle?” Ingrid asked, practically falling into the room. You tensed, suddenly terrified that this would be it. She’d make you leave after this. But while ingrid looked a little stern, she didn't seem angry. Still, you were a bit frozen still, and Mapi took her opportunity.

“Stick and poke. Got it while blackout drunk.” She said, holding up a hand for you to high five, despite clearly disapproving minutes earlier. Apparently, Mapi only needed to be a protective adult in Ingrid’s absence. You high fived her, allowing yourself to smile a bit, though you shot your sister a nervous glance.

Ingrid pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers, sighing heavily and sitting on the couch.

“Alright. Let me see it.” You sat up to lift the side of your shirt again, stopping when she threw a hand over her eyes. “Wait, no. Is it bad? Is it a bad word? Is it a vagina?” You and Mapi collapsed into giggles, and Ingrid rolled her eyes, removing her hand from her face. “Oh grow up, both of you. Let me see, solstråle.”

A bit smugly, now, you showed her the tattoo, watching carefully as her face morphed from apprehension, to surprise, to… emotion. Ingrid was tearing up.

“Oh my god, don’t cry, please, Ingrid,” you begged, sitting up and looking at your sister anxiously. Mapi was shaking with silent laughter next to you, and Ingrid was waving her hands in front of her face frantically.

“I’m not crying, I’m not. I’m just- tattoos are bad. Really bad. You shouldn’t have that. Tattoo. Of my number. On your body forever. My baby sister,” She trailed off, biting her lip when it began to tremble.

“Ingrid,” you complained, looking away uncomfortably.

“Ven aqui, princesa,” Mapi said quietly, pulling Ingrid into her side, though she was still smiling. Ingrid took a few calming breaths resting against her girlfriend, staying silent even though she had a million things to say. Her girlfriend took the opportunity to break the ice, seeing as though you looked to be on the verge of bolting out of the room. “ You know what would look good, solstråle? A 4, on the other side.” She suggested with a grin.

Ingrid sat bolt upright. “NO! No more tattoos. María, I swear to god.”

Mapi laughed, throwing her hands up in the air. “I’m just kidding, princesa, relax! God you sound like Alexia when I joked that I was going to tattoo Fresa when she was 12. I thought Ale was going to hit me.”

“I might hit you.” Ingrid mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest, glaring at her girlfriend.

“Nah. I’m too hot for that.” Mapi said confidently, leaning in to kiss her girlfriend’s cheek. Ingrid fought a smile and you turned away with a grimace on your face.

“Well. I’m going to bed. Please, keep the volume down, I don’t wish to be scarred this evening.” You said, walking briskly out of the room, ignoring Mapi’s cackle, and Ingrid’s gasp.

“We don’t have sex! We don’t! Abstinence is key!” Ingrid shouted after you, sighing heavily when she heard you laugh from the stairs. She turned to Mapi with a defeated look on her face.

“Nicely done, princesa.” Mapi teased.

Ingrid groaned, collapsing against her girlfriend. “She laughed a lot today. Like really laughed.” Ingrid commented after a minute.

Mapi ran her fingers through Ingrid’s loose hair. “I know. It was nice. She’s making progress, mi amor. You’re doing really well.”

Ingrid smiled shyly into the Spaniard, privately thinking that she’d do a lot worse without Mapi around to help. It takes a village, she supposed.

-------

You hadn’t quite drifted off when you heard your bedroom door open quietly. You were half asleep, too sleepy to open your eyes, assuming that either Ingrid or Mapi were putting something in your room you’d forgotten downstairs. You cracked an eye open after a second when you heard a noise closer to your bed, and saw your sister picking up Snø, who had fallen off your bed. She turned towards you, and for some reason, you shut your eyes before she could see they were open.

You pretended to be asleep. You weren’t sure why.

You were glad you had, though, when you felt Snø placed just next to your face, felt the covers pulled up a little until they were just under your chin, and felt Ingrid press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“God natt solstråle, jeg elsker deg,” she whispered, before quietly creeping back out of the room.

You were wide awake now, opening your eyes as soon as you heard the door shut. You weren’t quite sure what you were so upset about. Ingrid tucking you in had felt safe and loving and warm. Those were all good feelings… so why did it feel like a part of your chest was caving in on itself?

It was just… where had Ingrid learned to do that? You couldn’t, for the life of you, remember your parents doing anything similar with you. Even when you were young, putting you to bed consisted of them standing in the doorway while you got under the covers, and them bidding you a goodnight. Had it not been like that for Ingrid?

The more you thought about it, the more obvious it seemed. Of course it hadn’t been like that for Ingrid. She had been intentional, wanted. She was their favorite. They loved Ingrid in a way they never loved you. Of course they tucked her in, and kissed her forehead, and told her they loved her. Words you hadn’t heard from either of them in a long time. Ingrid got everything you always craved, and you couldn’t even really be that mad about it. Because if anyone deserved the absolute best the world had to offer, it was your sister.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, quietly muffling your sobs in your pillow. It was a sadness that plagued you, mixed with hope. Your parents didn’t love you, you were pretty sure of that. But it seemed like, maybe, Ingrid did.

-------

The following day was a match day. Well, not for Mapi, obviously, but it was an important league match for the team, and for Ingrid, and you were actually looking forward to going.

You woke up well rested in your bedroom, warm sunlight streaming in through the cracks in the blinds. You looked around when you woke up, a bit confused at the transformation it had undergone. It was cozy, and you relished laying in bed for a bit, not in any rush to leave this newly comforting space. It felt like home, and thought that still scared you, it wasn’t as terrifying in the daylight. Everything was always better in the morning.

And though the morning was good, the afternoon only went downhill.

You’d disappeared up to your room to get some homework done before you were set to leave for the game, and Mapi and Ingrid were lounging downstairs, watching a WSL match. Ingrid was ignoring the repetitive texts from her mother. After another one buzzed her phone, quickly followed by a sharp ring as her mom resorted to calling her, Ingrid flipped her phone over with a heavy sigh, turning to hide her face in the crook of Mapi’s neck. The Spaniard frowned sadly, wrapping her arms tight around the Norwegian, softly rubbing her back.

“I love you.” Mapi whispered, not really sure what to say, but figuring that those words couldn’t hurt. Ingrid whispered them back, feeling a bit braver now, before pulling away and reaching for her phone again.

“I don’t know what to say to her. I don’t want to talk to her right now, but she can tell something is wrong. I never ignore her like this.”

“You’re not ready to talk. Just say that.” Mapi suggested. Ingrid thought for a few moments, before slowly nodding and beginning to type a response.

Please stop calling. I am focused on Solstråle right now. You’ve really hurt her, and neither of us are ready to talk to you yet. Please respect that.

Ingrid showed Mapi before hitting send, an apprehensive look on her face.

“Perfect, amor.” Mapi assured her, watching as Ingrid hit send and snuggled back up against her girlfriend. She felt the words more than she heard them when Mapi spoke into her ear. “I am proud of you. You’re doing the right thing for your sister, and I know it’s hard, but you’re doing so well, mi princesa. I’m so proud of you.”

Ingrid blushed heavily, but smiled to herself. She wasn't sure why, but it suddenly felt like things might be okay from here on out. She would be wrong.

-------

You shouldn’t have answered the phone. You should have known better. You couldn't help the hope that bloomed inside of you when you saw your mom’s name on the caller ID as your phone rang, though. You answered the phone.

“You’re ruining our family.” She ruined it first.

“You’ve made my daughter hate me.” You’re her daughter too.

“Ingrid doesn’t want you there. She’s not your parent, I am.” Ingrid says she wants you here. And Ingrid acts more like a parent than she ever has.

“If I'd known how much trouble you’d be, I wouldn’t have bothered with having you.” Sometimes you wish she hadn’t bothered with it.

“You cause more trouble than you’re worth, and one day Ingrid will see that. And I won’t be here to take you back.” You were a lot of trouble, weren’t you? Your mom was right. One day, Ingrid and Mapi would reach the point she had. And you’d have nowhere else to go.

Your thoughts only spiraled from there. You hung up the phone without saying a word, letting it fall to the ground. You curled into yourself and thought. Thought hard. Until your mind felt like a prison you were locked in, and you weren’t sure how to get out. Until the room disappeared around you, and all you felt was hatred. Not towards your mother. But towards yourself.

-------

You wouldn’t look at Mapi. You wouldn’t move. You didn’t even really seem to know she was there. You sat with your knees pulled to your chest on the floor by your bed, a vacant look in your eyes.

“Come on, pequeña, come back. I’m right here, you’re safe.” Mapi said softly, careful not to touch you. She’d come to ask you if you’d be ready to go in an hour, wanting to leave at the same time as Ingrid and spend time with the team as they got ready in the locker room. She’d found you like this, making yourself as small as possible against your bed. You looked tiny, and Mapi spoke quietly, delicately, trying to coax you back to her.

Still, even her soothing words didn’t bring you out. And she knew she needed to get Ingrid, even as she knew that Ingrid would freak out.

She stepped away from you, leaning into the hall and calling quietly towards her room, where your sister was.

“Ingrid, come here please.” She said, as calmly as she could. Ingrid appeared in the hall, walking towards your room as she fiddled with the braid in her hair.

“What’s up?” She asked, following Mapi into your room. “Solstråle?” She looked between you and her girlfriend in confusion.

“I think she’s a little out of it right now. I’m not sure what happened, I found her like this.” Mapi explained, trying her best to not make Ingrid panic.

Ingrid sat down next to you, grabbing your hand. When you didn’t even flinch, she looked at Mapi in horror.

“María, what do we do?”

“She’s all right, amor. She just needs a bit.” Mapi reassured, sitting down on your other side.

“I… I don’t understand, what happened?”

“I don’t know, mi amor. Something probably upset her. She’s very vulnerable right now.” Mapi replied, before pausing briefly. “Do you remember when I withdrew from camp for the first time? I got like this. I was okay, I just needed some time, and my brain was trying to protect itself. Solstr��le is okay, she just needs the same.”

Ingrid nodded slowly, because she did remember. That was different, though, that was… a traumatic experience for her girlfriend. And whatever was happening with you right now, this couldn’t be a reaction to a traumatic experience. Yes, you were struggling, and yes, the last couple years had been hard, but you weren’t… traumatized?

As Ingrid sat and waited for you to come back to her, though, she realized that you were. If she put herself in your position, she couldn’t see how you could have come out of everything not traumatized. The marks your parents had left on you ran deeper than Ingrid had realized. And there wasn’t anything she could do to fix them unless you let her.

“María,” Ingrid said quietly, a desperate plea for some reassurance as minutes passed and nothing changed, as she stared into your eyes and you didn't react.

“I know, cariño, but she’s okay. She’s okay, I promise. Just try to stay calm.”

Ingrid wasn’t sure how much longer she could stay calm. Especially when she glanced at her phone and saw it was several minutes past the time she was supposed to leave for the match. “Can you call Ale? And tell her I can’t come?”

Mapi was nodding before Ingrid finished her sentence, standing and stepping out of the room. The phone only rang once before Alexia picked up, her reassuring voice calming Mapi, who was pretending to be a lot less panicked than she felt.

“Hola.”

“Ingrid and I can’t come.” Mapi said simply.

“What’s going on? Are you both okay?” Alexia asked with concern. Ingrid wouldn’t just miss a match she was supposed to be starting. Not unless something was wrong.

“It’s her sister, she’s not… well right now. We have to stay here with her. Ale, I’m really sorry,” Mapi said, cutting herself off before she got choked up. She wasn’t an emotional person but seeing you like this, seeing Ingrid so upset, and hearing her best friend’s voice over the phone… she couldn’t help it.

“No, don’t be sorry. Family first, always. I’ll talk to Jona. Do you need anything? Can I help?” Alexia asked. Hearing Mapi cry was always unsettling, because it happened so rarely.

“No, we’ve got it. Thank you, Ale, really.” Mapi said back, clearing her throat.

They said goodbye, and Mapi walked back into the room, raising her eyebrows when she saw Ingrid on your phone.

“She talked to Mom. Like 20 minutes ago, she answered a call from Mom.” Ingrid stated. “Could that…”

Mapi took her spot back next to you, absentmindedly taking your hand in hers. You gave it the faintest of squeezes, but the Spaniard didn’t want to put any pressure on you, so she said nothing. “It could be that. It makes sense. A lot of this seems to have to do with your mom. I don’t know what she said on the phone, but… it probably wasn’t good.”

Ingrid sat with that information for a bit, startling slightly when you slumped into her. Carefully, she lowered you so your head was in her lap. You seemed a little more aware, now, but still nowhere near normal. Softly, she began to pull your hair out of the braid it was in, combing it back away from your face.

“Our Mom did this to her.” She said evenly. Mapi rested her chin on Ingrid’s shoulder, nodding slightly. “I am never letting that woman near Solstråle again. I don’t care what I have to do. She’s been hurt enough. I won’t let her be hurt anymore.”

It didn’t matter that Mapi had come to this conclusion a couple days ago. It mattered that Ingrid was there now, and Ingrid was going to keep you safe.

You heard what Ingrid said. Your ears still worked, you were just a bit… out of it. You heard what she had told her girlfriend. And as she sat above you, relaxing you with every touch of her fingers to your scalp, you knew that you were failing at the rules you’d set yourself years ago.

Don’t get attached. Don’t expect anything from anyone. Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t listen when people tell you they love you; they almost never mean it.

You were trusting, again. Just a little bit, piece by piece, and you knew that it would take time before you healed fully, before you trusted fully. Very quickly, though, you were losing the will to be independent, losing the will to be strong. You didn’t want to have to be strong anymore. And you were beginning to think you didn’t need to be.

Of course, healing isn’t linear. Nothing is that easy. So even as you slowly sat up off your sister, and inquired as to why she wasn’t at her game, some part of you knew something else would go wrong. It had happened too many times for you not to know any better. There was still a hesitation when you leaned into the hug your sister offered, as she explained that you were more important than football. There was still hesitation when she asked what had happened. You told her the fewest details possible, which she clearly wasn’t happy with. You were still holding yourself back, somewhere in the middle of healed and broken. It was almost a race to see who could get to you first. It would either be Mapi and Ingrid to reach you, to put you back together. Or it would be the trauma and pain that pulled you backwards, back to the version of yourself you hated. Breaking you for good.

------

The answer would come in the form of a knock on the front door, later that day. After you’d gotten up off the floor of your bedroom, and returned to pretending to be okay. You were in the garage with Mapi, working on the bike, while Ingrid cooked dinner. You were loosening up a bit, and Mapi could tell you were getting closer to telling her what your mom had said on the phone.

Your sister answered the door, thinking maybe it would be one of their teammates, coming to check on them after her rather abrupt withdrawal from the match.

When Ingrid opened the door, though, it wasn’t her teammate on the front porch. It was your father.

-------

Your father, who was significantly less at fault than your mom, but still complicit in how you’d been treated. Your father, who always worked too much to really have a say in anything regarding your life. Your father, who you’d always felt closer to, always trusted more.

Your father, who loved you more than he’d ever admit.

Ingrid knew what he was there for the minute she saw his face. She was proven right when she got you and Mapi from the garage and brought you into the family room. When he began to talk and explain what he wanted, began to try to convince you to come home.

“I know Mom messed up. We both have, really. Our home isn’t the same without you though, Solstråle. I officially retired yesterday, which is why I wasn’t here sooner. I want to make things right. We weren’t good parents, but I’m here now, my darling. I want you to come back home. We can fix things with your mom. We can fix things at your school, get you back with your friends. We can be a family again.”

We can be a family again. A few months ago, maybe that would have gotten you home. Maybe the temptation of your friends and Norway and the promise of being loved would have worked. Things were different now, though. You felt like you had a family here, or that you could.

You’d always had a better relationship with your Dad. He loved all the outdoorsy activities you did, and though he’d been busy with work practically your whole life, the little time you spent together was always nice. Him retiring would ensure one sane person was home with you, that it wouldn’t just be you and your mom. And maybe you would have said yes, if you hadn’t seen the fear in Ingrid’s eyes, and decided it was because she wanted you to stay. She wanted you here, you told yourself. You wanted to be where you were wanted. And that wasn’t Norway, not with your mom.

“No.” you said simply.

“Solstråle,” your father began, with an exasperated sigh.

“No. I appreciate you coming here, and I appreciate you caring but it’s too late. It’s not enough, and it’s too late. Mom doesn’t want me home. She made that clear on the phone today. I don’t want to be where I’m not wanted. I don’t want to go back to Norway.”

Next to you, Mapi, who had been silent this whole time, squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

Your Dad shifted uncomfortably in his seat. You got the idea he thought this would be easier, which made sense. You hadn’t put up any fight when they’d sent you to Spain, and your Dad hadn’t expected any fight now.

“Take a day or two. Think about it. For me?”

Ingrid and Mapi wanted to snap that you didn’t owe him anything and he was in no place to ask you for anything, but they didn’t want to cause any more conflict than was necessary. Besides, you could handle yourself.

“I’ve made my decision but if you want to hear me repeat myself in two days, that’s fine.” You said calmly. Ingrid bit back a laugh, but Mapi smiled openly.

Your Dad didn’t seem phased, to his credit. “I’d like to talk to you both. Alone.” He directed that at the older girls, and you took the opportunity to flee upstairs, far away from the man that was… doing nothing but confusing you about your feelings towards your parents.

Your Dad didn’t stay for much longer, giving your sister a little speech about encouraging you to “make the right decision,” and why the right thing would be sending you home with him.

It left your sister with a bit to think about, her parents often making her rethink her decisions. Mapi could sense this turmoil, but she didn’t say anything, knowing Ingrid would come to her. Ingrid was completely silent as her and Mapi went to clean up the kitchen from dinner, allowing you space and time upstairs to process.

After a few minutes, though, Ingrid spoke up.

“Are you sure we’re making the right decision?” Ingrid asked, turning to Mapi as she finished putting away the dishes.

“We aren’t making a decision. Your sister is.” Mapi reasoned. “Besides, Ingrid, you said it yourself. Solstråle shouldn’t be around your mom. There are no real, tangible reasons why she shouldn’t stay here.”

“My dad had a couple.” Ingrid said skeptically.

“Okay. Why should Solstråle go back to Norway?” Mapi asked, taking a seat at the counter across from her girlfriend. Ingrid sighed, and began to list off the reasons her father had given her.

It was, of course, at this moment that you came down the stairs to fill up your water. This moment, the worst possible moment, as Ingrid tried to convince herself that you should stay, while inadvertently convincing you that she didn’t want you to stay. You froze in the hall, just out of sight, after hearing your name when Mapi asked her question. It was a miracle you stayed silent and on your feet, as every fear you still harbored about being a burden to Ingrid and Mapi was, apparently, proved to be true.

“She doesn’t have friends here. She doesn’t speak Spanish very well. We’re both busy athletes, and she is… not easy. We’d have our hands full. We are young, and we aren’t her parents. I’m her sister, not her mom. She needs help, and I’m not sure how to convince her to get it. My mom and dad can get her back on track better than I can.”

Ingrid was simply restating what her father had said. None of it she agreed with, none of it felt true. You didn’t hear her tell Mapi that, though. No, you quietly crept back upstairs, and sat on your bed numbly. Your stupid bed that she’d bought for you. In the stupid room she’d redecorated. With the absurd presents she’d gotten you. All of it wasn’t true. All of it was a lie. She didn’t want you here, how could you have ever let yourself be convinced that she did? Just like that, with only a few sentences overheard, every ounce of trust you’d begun to place in your sister had evaporated. They were downstairs, talking about how they didn’t want you, after spending so long lying and saying they did.

It should have been confusing, this contradiction. But it wasn’t, because you’d spent your whole life feeling unwanted. And what is a few days of being told something against 18 years of being told something the complete opposite? Your mom had been right. Ingrid had come to her senses. You weren’t wanted here. Your Dad said he wanted to fix things, and though that was hardly believable to you, you’d go back. Maybe you weren’t wanted anywhere, but you’d go back to Norway, where no one cared what you did as long as you didn’t get in trouble. You supposed they didn’t really care here, either, they’d just been pretending to. It had all been an act, probably to spare your feelings, but an act nonetheless. You ignored that it didn’t make sense. You pretended that the complete contradictions in what they’d been telling you and how they’d been acting didn’t exist. Because you’d rather convince yourself then be convinced by them. You’d rather hurt yourself than let them hurt you first. You’d take the first step. You’d make it easy, and you’d go.

Very suddenly, you couldn’t stand to be in this house, this room for a second longer. You pulled out your phone, and told your dad you’d reconsidered. You took a few calming breaths, preparing yourself to rid your sister of the burden that was taking care of you, apparently. You shouldn’t be surprised by this. You'd been right, the whole time, to not trust her when she said she wanted you here. She didn’t. Of course she didn’t.

Doubt swirlied around in your head. Nothing made sense, nothing made any sense. There had always been one constant in your life, though. And that was being unwanted. Ingrid didn’t want you. Ingrid couldn’t want you. It was too good to be true.

You stomped down the stairs, hearing Ingrid and Mapi’s voices grow quiet upon your approach. You assumed they’d been talking about you, and they had. About finding you a therapist. Not about wanting you to go.

You entered the kitchen, startling both girls with the hard look on your face. “I’m going back to Norway.” You asked, voice monotone, but shaking dangerously as you regarded your sister and her girlfriend.

“What?” Ingrid asked, thinking she must have misheard you.

“I am going back to Norway. I texted Dad.” You turned to leave, but Mapi grabbed your wrist, spinning you back around.

“What the hell are you talking about?” She asked. You could only glare at her.

“You said you wanted to stay, solstråle, I don’t understand…” Ingrid said, trailing off.

“You don’t want me here, Ingrid, and I don’t want to be here.”

“Of course we want you here,” Ingrid began, growing more and more confused with each venomous word that you spewed at her.

You wrenched your arm out of Mapi’s grasp and stepped towards your sister, your outstretched hand connected with her chest as you shoved her backwards.

“Oye!” Mapi shouted, getting in between the two of you. You were beside yourself with rage, suddenly. Why had she lied? Why had she gotten your hopes up?

“No. You. Don’t. Stop lying, both of you.” You pushed Mapi away from you then, ignoring the angry tears that had begun to well in your eyes. “You don’t want me here, you think I’d do better in Norway. I don’t speak Spanish, I don’t have any friends, I’m too much work, you are young and you don’t need a teenager to take care of. I’m mean and quiet and stubborn and my own fucking mother doesn’t love me. I heard you earlier Ingrid, you don’t need to lie. I’m used to it. You don’t want me. Stop pretending you do.”

At some point during your speech, Mapi and Ingrid understood what had happened. You’d overheard something out of context, clearly. And it was evident that you’d reverted back to your original belief that they didn’t want you. It hurt them, how easily you’d been convinced. And suddenly, they weren’t confused and they weren’t angry that you’d pushed them. Their faces softened, and they inched closer to you and you hated it. Because everything inside of you was screaming to believe what you knew what they were about to say, to let yourself fall into their arms, for good this time. To trust them.

You couldn’t. You couldn’t be hurt again. It would kill you.

You stepped backwards, and both girls stopped moving. It was Ingrid that spoke first, her voice low and soothing.

“Solstråle, I don’t believe any of that. Dad said all that, to try to convince us to let you go back to Norway. We want you here. I know it’s hard for you to believe us, honey, but we do. More than anything, we want you to stay.”

You shook your head frantically, teardrops hitting the floor under you. “No. No.”

Mapi nodded, stepping a bit closer. “Yes, mi sol. We want you here. We love you, and we want you to stay.”

“No, stop!” You shouted. Ingrid was crying now, and you tried not to care. “You don’t mean that, you can’t mean that. Please, stop lying, this is too confusing, and it hurts too much, please. Just let me go.”

You didn’t mean you wanted them to let you go back to Norway. You wanted them to let you go. The tension in the air thickened at this, as both of them realized what you meant.

“No. I won’t do that. You’re staying here, with me. Here, where you are loved, and wanted. You’re not going anywhere, you aren’t allowed to.” Ingrid said, carelessly wiping a tear off her cheek as she stepped closer to you.

Mapi stepped closer, too. “Nena, I promise you. On everything I love. On my parents, on football, on Ingrid. I want you to stay. Please.” The emotion in the defender’s voice startled you, and very suddenly, all of the fight had gone out of you, all of the anger.

You wiped your eyes like a child. Because really, that was the part of you crying. “Why?” You cried. “Why do you want me? No one wants me.”

Mapi shook her head, for once at a loss for what to say, as Ingrid let out a rough sob at your words. “How could we not? You’re my baby sister, Solstråle. You are kind, funny, and caring. You’re a good person, honey. You are good, and we love you.”

It was quiet as you heaved in a few breaths, looking between both girls as you tried to decide what was true and what was false. And, ultimately, when you made your decision, it was because you were too tired to do anything else. Too exhausted of hating yourself to continue punishing yourself. Too exhausted of not letting yourself believe that you were worthy of love. Because you craved it, so deeply inside of you. And as much as you didn’t want to, and as much as you wished you didn’t care, you did.

You are good, Ingrid had said. And if you were good, you could let yourself be loved.

“Do you promise?” You asked, your voice cracking at the same time Ingrid and Mapi felt their hearts break for the 10th time today, at how completely disbelieving you sounded.

“I promise.” Ingrid said. You looked between her and Mapi silently, and Ingrid took a hesitant step towards you, before Mapi pulled her back, shaking her head slightly. You needed to go to them. You needed to decide, all by yourself.

It was the desperation in your sister’s voice that really got you, the tears in her eyes. And maybe it was also the desperation inside yourself, too, and the ache in your heart that you knew you didn’t need to carry anymore. You wrapped your arms tight around your abdomen, and prepared yourself to say the most vulnerable, most terrifying words you had ever said, and might ever say.

“I want to stay with you guys.”

The words were barely out of your mouth before you were being squished into Ingrid’s arms, Mapi’s quickly following. Both of them hugged you tight, giving you the comfort you had been trying to give yourself. You didn’t need to do that, anymore. They would do it for you.

You wouldn’t have to do any of the things you’d spent a long time doing alone, alone anymore.

It had been years and years of wishing you had a family that loved you, thinking you’d give anything for a family that cared about you again. It turned out you didn’t need to give anything. You could just… have it. You just deserved it.

-------

def not the end of my girl sol ☀️ we'll see more of her... soon ish :)

hope everyone enjoyed this little series <3 I love and appreciate you all very much

also... i was 🤏 this close to leaving part 4 on a cliffhanger where mr. engen shows up but the second part wouldn't have been long enough and i am much too nice

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #🍓☀️

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endless-ineffabilities · 6 months ago

Text

chemical override (5)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: the support for this fic has been amazing, so trust me when I say that I take no pleasure in all the angst and heartache that follows (or do I?) I'm sorry, readers. I'm sorry, Ewan. We'll sort this out somehow - all my love, Freyja <3

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

A beginning. A first date. Whispers, sightings abound. Falling in love. A necessary lie. Hearts breaking. An end.

Ewan stands in a studio backlot in LA, bouquet of flowers clasped in one hand while the other is nervously stuffed in his tracksuit pocket.

He's itching for a smoke, but he stops himself from doing so, in some lovesick attempt to keep himself as clean and nice-smelling as possible when he sees you again. He already mentally kicked himself for not dressing better, clad in his staple Adidas blacks. But he couldn't wait any longer.

His flight from New York to LA hadn't been the most pleasant. His mind raced for hours, the thought of you being his only consolation. His meeting did not go well.

But enough of it. There is you, here, now.

In this moment, you are all that matters.

The first couple of workers make their way out the studio doors, chatting enthusiastically despite their tired faces. Ewan shuffles on his feet, keeping an eye out for you. Soon enough, your assistant Clara exits, and he waves in an attempt to get her attention.

"Ewan!" she greets brightly. "She'll be out in a while. Are those flowers?" A blush materialises on her face, and she looks so excited Ewan awkwardly thinks she would take them for herself.

"Yeah, do you think she'll like them?" he asks, giving the bouquet a once-over. The classic dozen long-stemmed red roses, kept together with black-dyed muslin wrap.

"She'll love them!" As if perfectly timed, the doors open again, and they spot you walking out with several of your co-stars. Clara smiles to herself as she walks away to give you two some space.

When your eyes land on him, it's like everything falls into place, the ear-splitting smile you give him enough to quell any worries he might have. You meet each other halfway, melding together in an embrace so tight he nearly drops the flowers to the ground.

"Look who it is," you say, still wrapped in his arms, "the internet's babygirl."

"Just your baby, darling." He pulls apart, but only just enough to look at you. "I missed you."

"Mmm, I can see that."

You're about to comment on the flowers, but he can't hold back any longer.

And so your first proper kiss happens behind an LA studio, adjacent to the parking lot and surrounded by prying eyes. The burnt orange haze of the sunset peers from the horizon, casting a glow on the scene. And it's perfect. His lips are gentle as they dance with yours, his warm breath fanning your face when he breaks apart for mere milliseconds, only to resume the kiss as if he can never get enough.

A moment later, there's a couple of woohoos from a distance, your costars oooing and aahing at the sight, making you giggle against Ewan's lips.

"Shall we, then, darling?" Ewan asks.

"Shall we?" Your brows raise, mirroring his question.

"Our first date." He takes a step back, but only to ceremoniously hold his hand out for you to take. "Will you do me the honour?"

"Why, good sir, are we going on a regular date or some super fancy ball?" you laugh, lacing your fingers with his anyway.

He only smiles, planting yet another kiss on the corner of your mouth. "God, I missed you."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You can't help but cast glances at him every now and then. Ewan, effortlessly cool as he drives the both of you across LA, with one veiny hand gripping the steering wheel while the other envelops yours on your lap.

His thumb draws circles on the back of your hand, and you're thankful for it; you need the comfort because you're growing nervous. A first date.

A first date! And not just with anyone.

"What is it?" he smirks, his eyes finding yours as the car idles at an intersection. There's a smugness there. He caught you staring.

You avert your gaze, a pleasant wave of heat rising to your face.

"Hmm?" he leans across, pecking your cheek and resting his forehead against your hair, eager to get a rise out of you. "I mean, I've been told I'm handsome, darling. You already know, something of a babygirl. But it's even more special that you think so."

The light turns green. You grab his jaw, and lightly push him away, raising your eyebrows. "Careful, baby," you smile knowingly. "Your Aemond is showing."

"Oh, yeah?" The car revs up again, rows of palm trees speeding past in a blur. "Does that - uhh - turn you on?"

Your head snaps to him at his bold insinuation. He gives off an unaffected air, smirking to himself in an undeniably hot what-are-you-gonna-do-about-it way. But you make him nervous too. He swallows, and clears his throat, anticipating your response.

"Maybe," you bite your lip, squeezing his hand harder, "but you don't need to put on your Aemond to turn me on."

"Just me, then?" he chuckles lowly, feeling lighter.

"Yup," you shrug. "But if you ever wanna put on a blonde wig and an eyepatch, I won't stop you."

"For when, darling?" Oh he knows what you meant. It's been a constant on his mind too. He's lost count of the nights when thoughts of you consume him, and what happy news it is that you might have been going through the same.

"Mmm... " You look out the window innocently, but you guide his hand higher up on your thigh, allowing his fingers to splay open and squeeze at the flesh covered only by the material of your jeans.

A minute passes. Driving past a street of exclusively only mansions and expensive cars. Then downtown, low-rise buildings as far as the eye can see. Another minute, slow and steady.

Then he says, "You're going to fucking drive me insane, baby."

A soft sigh escapes your lips. "Well, you started it."

He sneers, accompanied by a humourless shake of his head. "I think you overestimate my self-control." The air is thick, but it's quickly diffused when he pulls into a clearing. You realise you're out of the main road, the car slowly coming to a halt in an empty lot beside a low brick building.

"We're here, darling," he says, but he gives you a look that clearly means this matter isn't over. You have something of his, and he's going to claim it.

He half-jogs over to your side, opening the door for you and taking your hand in his.

"Where are we?" The building is nondescript, with a plain white facade, a small cafe and a laundromat on street level, both of which happen to be closed.

"Had to call in a favour from an old mate of mine. His family moved here from Derby a couple of years ago, and they own that laundromat over there," he explains, leading you inside through a door in the side alley.

You're met with a narrow flight of stairs and he gestures for you to go ahead. "What have you got up your sleeve, Mitchell?" you ask, excitement taking root as you climb up to the very top.

It only takes three floors before you reach the heavy steel door of the roof deck. He shuffles to your side, one hand on your back to keep you steady, and pushes the door open which relents with a loud squeak.

You're met with something you have only seen before on Pinterest boards - the rooftop is softly aglow from hanging string lights. In the far side, a screen projector is set up, and in front of it is a low plush sofa cocooned amidst throw blankets and cushions. There's a wooden tray on one on the blankets, containing treats of all sorts and a bottle of wine glistening in its ice bucket.

You take in the magical ambience of the scene with widened eyes. The haze of faint LA sunlight only serves to make everything more beautiful, though it seems hardly necessary.

"Do you like it, darling?" he asks and what a ludicrous question it is. Do you like it?

He continues, "I admit I didn't have to lot of time to set it up, and I had a bit of help but - mmmpph - "

You lace your hands around his neck, silencing him with a searing kiss. He moans unto you, his tongue dipping past your lips as he nearly relinquishes control. He could forget about the set up, the date he had planned, and just take you here on the rooftop. Would you let him?

"I take it that everything is to your liking?" he purrs, watching you in adoration as your head swivels on its own accord to canvas the scene yet again.

You spot something in the corner - a bouquet of fresh flowers surrounded by some lightweight paper lanterns.

"Oh no!" you moan. "The flowers you gave me... I left them in the car!"

He laughs fondly at the sheer panic on your face. "Don't worry about them, my love. I've got more flowers for you here." He points to the bouquet you just saw.

"But those ones... won't they wilt or something? I don't want them to go to waste."

His heart swells at your genuine concern. The furrow between your brows, the way you chew on your lip in worry, your fingers absentmindedly clutching his wrist - it all makes him fall even harder.

"They'll be fine, darling."

"Are you sure?"

He nods once, pulling you in, "Mhmm, just... come here, please." Another kiss, gentler this time.

This is bliss, he thinks, sweet solace after his days in New York, days he aims on forgetting from now on.

You eventually find yourselves on the velvet seat, the tray of food nestled on your laps. He pours wine into the paper cups as you reach for a chocolate-covered strawberry and bring it to his lips.

"Thanks, love," he mumbles with his mouth full.

"Oh, baby, you've got chocolate on there," you motion to his bottom lip.

He sets the cups of wine on the tray, making a move to wipe it off, but just as his fingers hover, his mind takes on an alternative action.

"You do it, then," he leans close, tilting his jaw.

"Okay." With a smile, you begin to oblige him, but you halt when he playfully says, "Not with your hands, darling."

You feel your heart race at his teasing, and at the way he stares at you with blatant desire. Never mind the fact that you were just making out moments ago. The rush of being with him has not subsided. Maybe it never will.

You kiss him, paying mind to the smudge on his lip, licking your own lips afterward to savour the taste.

You pull back slightly. "All better," you say, patting his cheek lovingly.

"Hmm," he hums, "I suppose I'll just have to make a mess of myself more often."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Nightfall had already descended when the credits to The Princess Bride start rolling, dotting the sky with twinkling stars.

Ewan has his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, before he declares, "If they ever do a remake to this film, I'll only take the role if you would be my Buttercup."

"As you wish," you smile, nuzzling closer against his black hoodie. "I remember watching this when I was a kid. Believe it or not, it was one of the films that inspired me to get into acting."

"Did you wanna be Buttercup, my Buttercup?"

"No," you respond. "I wanted to do what Inigo Montoya was doing. He's so insanely cool."

"Of course you did," he says affectionately, "my darling."

"What about you, hmm? Did you always want to be an actor?" you ask. You might have read an interview of his where he explains something to that effect, but he doesn't need to know that now.

"As far as I can remember, yes. It was always going to be acting for me. Even when everyone laughed it off when I brought it up in primary school." He shakes his head, the once bitter memory reduced to an anecdote. "I... I find purpose in what we do, being able to slip inside different skins, different lives. It allows me to explore the human psyche, you know, and to make sense of all this madness."

You listen intently, in awe at his words and his sheer sincerity. The world is made better with Ewan able to live his passions. And you feel fortunate that his life is one he may be willing to share with you, if everything goes well down the line.

"I almost forgot - you have to tell me about how your big meeting went."

He shifts slightly, eyes darting downward as he pouts on instinct. He realises he can no longer keep the subject under wraps.

You sense his reluctance, and immediately try to soften your approach. It could have gone either way, and though rejection is part of an actor's bread and butter - you certainly would know - there are some instances where you just let it get to you.

"Is this producer as scary as they say?" you ask lightly, poking his chest.

He smiles, but his expression is still clouded. "You know those mafia dons in Scorcese's movies? This guy practically inspired them, I'd say."

"Goodness."

"He did try to give off a welcoming air, but there was still something... sinister underneath."

"I suppose when anyone is afforded this much power..."

"Especially in this industry..."

"Mhmm." Face half-burrowed in the soft material of his hoodie, you tilt your head up at him. "So it was a bust, huh?"

He shrugs, "The role just wasn't for me. It's all for the best, I reckon."

You hold his hand tight, eager to soothe any worries he might have. "That's a shame. They would have been damn lucky to have you."

He smiles, flattered by your comment. "I am lucky to just be here with you, darling."

You smile in return, tilting your lips to his, coaxing him to lean in close and seal the kiss.

And he does.

And this is the most perfect first date there ever was or ever will be.

"Darling?"

"Hmm?"

"I think I've fallen in love with you."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The next few weeks pass blissfully slowly, you and Ewan caught in the euphoria that only a fresh relationship can bring.

Rehearsals for your upcoming movie had ended, and you get a month off before filming begins in Atlanta. Ewan also stays in LA, keen on spending every waking minute with you. His team takes advantage of the situation, booking him for several interviews and a feature with Esquire. You were more than happy to accompany him - or rather, distract him - on these occasions.

Once, the team even jokes that you had to stay in the other room because Ewan keeps looking over at you behind the camera and forgetting what to say. Ewan, of course, quickly protests. "My girl stays with me," he confidently says.

It doesn't take long for news to spread. Rumours, at first. Allegations bred from blurry fan photos and supposed encounters with yourself and Ewan while out in LA.

They were holding hands!

They're not just friends, I swear. He was kissing her the whole time in the restaurant!

What about her and Jacob? I thought they'd been dating all this time?

House of the Dragon stars spotted on a date in Hollywood!

Headlines. Gossip fodder. Statements made by people who claim to have seen you.

Sure, you do meet some of the sweetest and friendliest fans during all this, who only gush at the sight of their favourite actors getting together.

There are others, especially online, who are less pleasant, accusing you of cheating on your supposed lover Jacob Elordi.

Jacob, already used to rolling with the punches, gives you a call so the two of you can laugh it off together.

"I'm happy for you, mate," he expresses, voice muffled from the other line. "You and Ewan... you guys just make sense. Do you remember that night when he stormed in all jealous like? Holy shit..."

As if on cue, Ewan shifts underneath the sheets from behind you, peppering your naked back with soft kisses. "Tell him I said hi," he whispers, his tone doing nothing to mask his possessiveness.

And so the days roll on, and it couldn't be more perfect.

That is, until the first cracks started to show. As they always do.

You're in a meeting with your publicist Mallory, at one of the many quaint hipster cafés in LA, discussing your upcoming filming schedule and the other things you have booked in between.

"You've got a busy few months ahead, but the film is of course top priority," she says. "It's slated to be the top rom-com of next year."

"That's great, Mal."

"I mean, I think you know that Ewan was meant to lead that romance-fantasy franchise? That's a big deal, and people are saying it'll be bigger than Twilight!" she gestures wildly with her hands. "But since he had a falling out with Bruce Haversham - and trust me, if he ever sets up a meeting with you, you do not want to go against him - what was I saying? Oh yeah, the release for that will be delayed so your film will get prime spot for a summer premiere."

You grow apprehensive at her words. Ewan never got into detail about that meeting, and you didn't really want to pry. But if that producer's reputation is indeed accurate, it doesn't bode well for Ewan's career that he might have done anything that displeased him.

With a sickening dread, you realise that Haversham might have something to do with Ewan failing to book the two films he went for in the past month. Despite the fact that the local casting director practically raved about his audition, and stated that he pretty much had both of the roles in the bag.

"Mal, you know Donna right? Ewan's publicist?" you ask, knowing that she and Donna are under the same agency. "Does she talk to you about Ewan at all? About what went down in New York?"

"A little, honey, yes," she admits. "But about that meeting, I thought you would know. He didn't tell you?"

"Not in too many words, no. Just that it didn't work out, and that the film wasn't meant for him."

"Oh, I see," she smiles, almost ruefully, like she feels sorry for you. That look compels you to ask, "What do you know, Mal? Tell me."

Her hand reaches and clutches yours atop the table. "From what I heard, he refused the role because of you."

"What?"

"It's rare with young actors like you guys, to be so devoted so early on."

Growing impatient, you say, "Mal, please, what are you saying?"

"Look, I don't know the details of it. But apparently Haversham wanted him to get into a PR stint with his love interest for the film, and to hide whatever real relationship he has going on with you. This ordeal was going to be more restrictive than the arrangement you have with Jacob, which is more or less over at this point."

"I didn't know that," you whisper hoarsely.

"Honey, don't worry about it," she consoles you, taking a sip of her coffee. "Like I said, I don't know much. I can get you in touch with Donna if you want to speak with her? I'm 100% positive it's not all bad. There's one thing we can be sure of, at least!"

You look at her expectantly, unable to formulate a guess.

"That boy loves you!"

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

With only a few days left before filming, you had begun to make the final preparations before moving to Atlanta.

It's a late night, one laden with anxiety and nervous jitters, and the several shots of whiskey you had just taken do little to keep the walls from closing in.

Although, perhaps, it is better if they do. If they imprison you, even just for tonight, to keep you from whatever it is you plan to do.

It's for the best. I have to do this. I'm doing this for him, you keep telling yourself. You keep repeating the lies, letting them bounce relentlessly in the walls of your mind, until you fool yourself into thinking them to be true.

You had met with Donna a few days prior, and the whole situation was made clear to you. You didn't know for certain when the decision formed in your mind, but it's there, as real as the love you feel for Ewan.

The love you will have to bury.

He picks you up in his rental Rover, after you told him that you wanted to go for a drive. But you ask him to park his car behind the private apartment building where you're staying.

The car grinds to a halt, like a signal for you to get it over with. There is no going back now.

"Ewan... I - " You can't push the words out, more so when he reaches for your hands and squeezes. He looks at you with those eyes, expecting anything but what you're about to say.

"I'm sorry," you try again, and your voice breaks. His face slowly drops, the mood instantly changed, but the worse is yet to come.

"What are you sorry for, darling?" He rubs his thumb along your cheekbone, the sensation willing you to just abandon your plan completely. To abandon the lie.

"Whatever happens..." Just get it over with. "...I want you to know that I'll always be here for you. We are friends first, aren't we?" Peel the bandaid. Rip it off. Let it bleed.

"I'm afraid I don't follow," he says.

You sound robotic, emotionless. But one wrong turn and the floodgates may break. There's a lump in your throat and you push it down. Reminding yourself to act - use your fucking acting skills if you actually have any. Now's the time. "We can't be together, Ewan."

There it is, sounding itself into existence, ruining the love you have in front of you.

His hand drops, as if he recoils back into himself. Away from you. It's cruel, but you know you will have to do more damage. You have to make it stick. This becomes clear when he says, "No", with conviction. "No, darling," he repeats. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Ewan - "

"You're not being funny, darling." He tilts his head, testing you, giving you the chance to retract your words and start laughing at your twisted joke. Darling comes out a mockery, something to say out of spite.

He takes a deep breath, leaning back in the driver's seat. "I don't... I don't accept this." He looks straight ahead, his lips pursed and jaw taut. "Fucking... why ?"

"I just... don't think it's going to work out."

"Bullshit."

Your words come out rushed, "You should take that role. I don't want you to hold back just for me. This could be something really great for you, Ewan. This could be it! Most actors pray for an opportunity like that to come along and I wouldn't want you to - "

"That's the reason?"

" - refuse it because of me. So we should - "

"Stop."

" - end this."

Silence. Not a single sound in the near-empty parking lot. No sirens in the distance, no pedestrian chatter. Just slow, heavy breathing in this rental car, both of you looking out the windshield. It feels stuffy all of a sudden, and not in the heated way when your limbs entwined in a jumble in the backseat a mere week ago.

"Please. I... I don't want to end this," he pleads. His knuckles are bone white, harshly gripping both sides of the steering wheel in an attempt to anchor himself. He shakes his head, and with some sense of hope, he says, "I don't care about that role. Okay? It's not the end of the world if I don't accept it. Have some faith in me, darling. I'll make it work. Surely there are plenty of other things down the line."

"Ewan," you whisper. You knew he would say this, which is why you prepared something worse. If that were even possible. You suck on your teeth, pulling on whatever poison you keep hidden away. You sigh and look away, a gesture that lets him know nothing will change your mind. "This fucking PR relationship business... it gets to you, you know? We don't know any better. I for one never expected to feel this way about - "

"About?" he finally turns to shoot you a look of betrayal, the pain in his eyes clear as day.

"I might have feelings for Jacob," you lie, "or I might not, I don't know. But there's something there, and I... I can't let this - us - go on while I'm conflicted about everything. It wouldn't be right."

Nothing about this is right.

But you go on, "I'll be off filming, with him, for a couple of months. And it's only going to make everything more confusing, and it wouldn't be fair to you, I know that - "

"I love you."

It's the first time he ever utters those three words, completely and without any doubt. He says them, despite everything you said before. And he means it.

A tear falls down your cheek, and you squeeze your eyes shut to keep the rest at bay.

"I'm sorry," you look at him, in finality, and you want nothing more than to passionately kiss him hard on the mouth, to hold on to him tight and plead for him not to let you go. With your quivering form, you amble out of the car. Every step worsens the weight of what just transpired. His side of the car opens, and he calls for you, but you can't bear to look back.

He catches up to you, breathless and with a wild look in his face. His blue eyes swell with tears, but his brows are scrunched down as if he isn't bothered by them.

"I want you to look me right in the eye and tell me we don't matter. I want you to tell me you don't love me," he says, and it's the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. He searches your eyes for something, anything to hold on to. Part of him is still desperate enough to grasp at straws, on the hope that you will change your mind.

But the other hardened part, has become angry. Indignant. Because how could you do this to him? The only girl he has ever loved. So he needs to hear it from you, clearly. He needs you to drive the final nail on the coffin.

"I do love you," you croak, and you do nothing to stop your tears from flowing freely.

"Darling..."

"But I can't be with you," you turn away, one last time. "Goodbye, Ewan."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Some time ago, during the meeting in New York...

The lush office was laden with expensive wooden furniture, one side with built-in shelves displaying film awards and plaques of varying degrees of prestige. A full glass minibar occupied the other side.

The casting director introduced himself as Bruce, insisting that Ewan call him by his first name and not any of that "sir or similar stick-up-the-ass names". Ewan can see him as a mentor or maybe even a friend, Bruce insisted.

After all, they were going to help each other out a lot...

(to be continued)

Taglist: @sprinklesprinkle888 @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @hotdismylife @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @dracaryxzs @aemondwhoresworld @aisselasstuff @onlyrealjoy

Update! Read the second bonus chapter here ~

💌 next chapter

HOW DARE YOU, reader. How dare you.

The gif above paints a clear picture of Ewan's heart breaking in the car 🥲 just in case you guys needed a visual aid 🥲🥲

Next chapter - the meeting in New York, the reader's conversation with Donna, and.... we see them move on from each other (?) You know these bloody actors, one relationship in the first half of the year and then another right after...

Feel free to come for me in the comments <3 it was the most heartfelt chapter, after all. Also, let me know what yous want the bonus chapter to be about!

#ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell imagine #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #chemical override

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caitified · 3 months ago

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ooo how about a caitlin fic where they dated in high school and they ended on good terms but didn’t really talk anymore after they went to college. but then they meet again later while cait is with the fever and they rekindle their relationship??

begin again

caitlin clark x reader

warnings:none (we ran out of gifs guys and i don’t wanna scroll🥲)

you never thought you’d settle down in indiana. growing up, it was always just a place on the way to somewhere else, somewhere bigger. but college brought you here, and slowly, the state started feeling like home. years later, you have a life here—a routine, a rhythm. the memories of high school and of caitlin have faded a bit, softened by time and distance. you never planned for her to be part of your life here, but you can still remember the last night you two spent together, sitting on her porch, looking at the stars and talking about everything you’d be.

when she went to iowa, and you left for indiana, it was hard, but you both knew it had to happen. you’d both needed space to grow and to chase what you wanted, and you were glad to have left on good terms. you watched her career from afar, cheering her on from the comfort of your living room, letting her stay a part of your past while your life moved forward.

until now. when you hear the news that caitlin’s been drafted to the fever, it feels unreal, like a memory resurfacing at the wrong time. part of you wonders if you’ll see her, but it still catches you off guard when you run into her at a local café, both of you frozen for a moment before she smiles.

“well, if it isn’t my indiana connection,” she says, her voice warm and just a little uncertain.

you give a small laugh, trying to calm the unexpected nerves fluttering in your chest. “hey, caitlin. i heard you were joining the fever.”

“yeah, guess i finally made it to indiana,” she says, her smile widening, the familiar glint of mischief in her eyes. “who would’ve thought we’d both end up here?”

there’s a pause, comfortable but heavy, filled with things unsaid. she looks just like you remember—maybe more confident, but still the same caitlin who used to talk about making it big, eyes shining with dreams. seeing her like this, up close, feels like an echo of the past and a strange twist of fate.

“so, how’s life been?” she asks, sliding into the seat across from you, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. and maybe it is. “i mean, besides me showing up and ruining your quiet indiana life.”

you smile, leaning back and matching her easy posture. “quiet, yeah, but it’s been good. settled in, made some roots. not quite as exciting as yours, though.”

she laughs, running a hand through her hair. “it’s…different, i guess. i love it, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes i miss the simple things, you know? the days before everything got so serious.”

“i get that,” you say softly, and for a moment, there’s a shared understanding in the air, a reminder of all those late-night talks you used to have. “feels like we grew up overnight.”

“feels like yesterday and forever ago at the same time,” she murmurs, glancing down as if the table holds some of those old memories.

the conversation slips back into old rhythms, like picking up a favorite book after years and finding it as familiar as ever. you talk about college, life in indiana, what it was like for her at iowa, and how she’s adjusting to the fever. neither of you bring up high school or what you had back then, but it’s there, resting between every pause, a steady beat beneath the surface.

“you know,” she says eventually, her gaze steady and serious, “i never really expected this—seeing you here, now.”

you smile, letting the words linger. “neither did i. but it’s…nice, i guess.”

she nods, her eyes softening. “yeah, it really is. maybe we could catch up again sometime? properly, i mean.”

your heart skips, and you feel that familiar pull—the same one that drew you to her all those years ago. “i’d like that,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

as she leaves, she gives you one last look, a quiet promise in her eyes, and you feel the start of something rekindling. it’s different now—older, wiser, maybe even better than it was. and as you watch her walk away, you can’t help but feel like fate brought her back to you, right where you both belong.

🪽🪽🪽🪽

over the next few weeks, meeting up with caitlin turns into a regular thing. it starts with a coffee here, a lunch there, each time stretching a little longer, neither of you wanting the conversation to end. you go to a few of her games, trying to be subtle but still catching her eye when she glances into the crowd, and every time she finds you, she grins like she’s won something more than just points.

one night, after a particularly close win, she invites you out for a late dinner. the restaurant is quiet, dimly lit, and she’s still buzzing with the energy of the game, her excitement spilling over as she tells you about the highlights. her eyes are so alive, her laugh loud and familiar, and you can’t help but feel like you’re falling all over again.

“you know,” she says eventually, her gaze softening as she looks across the table at you, “this is starting to feel like old times… but also not.”

you tilt your head, curious. “not?”

she nods, a small smile playing at her lips. “it’s…different. better, i think. i know i’m different, and you are too. but something about it still feels so right.”

your heart pounds, and you realize that you feel the same. “yeah, it does.”

there’s a beat of silence, thick with anticipation, and she reaches across the table, her fingers brushing yours. “so… do you think you’d want to make it official? i mean, for real this time?”

you laugh, more out of surprise than anything, but you can feel the warmth blooming in your chest. “are you asking me to be your girlfriend again?”

she squeezes your hand, her face breaking into that lopsided grin you remember so well. “yeah, i am. what do you say?”

and you don’t even need to think about it. “i’d love to, caitlin.”

she smiles, pulling you into a hug as you both laugh, the moment perfect and unhurried. it’s not like high school anymore—it’s better, it’s grown up, and it’s real.

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #wnba x reader #wnba imagine #wbb imagine #wbb x reader #iowa wbb #indiana fever

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alexiroflife · 5 months ago

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fic authors self rec! ♡ when you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. let’s spread the self-love ♡

OOO FUN OKAY- I'll do it in order from lowest favorite (5) to top favorite (1) & explain why because i'm extra and i will yap about writing at the drop of a hat

"a bird's song" gojo x reader: literally bc i had that idea in my mind for a while and it hurt me so good to write. i have an emotional connection to this one, and i really loved writing about gojo in more depth here than i have for other fics. i think it helped build onto the angst of the story. i can't give a better explanation other than i fucking love this one

"my duty to you" toji x reader: I WAS SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS bro omg i just love the bodyguard x royalty trope, and to fit toji into it as someone with a difficult upbringing combining worlds w/ someone so different from him was just so fun to write about. i also love the development of the relationship in this.

jjk men reactions to sh: this one is especially important to me because it healed a part of me i didn't know i needed to address. it's hard writing about things that you have experienced, but its also so freeing and heartwarming to see how connected we can all become in a space because people feel seen and safe reading. very hard to get through, but so worth it in the end

"tears" sukuna x reader: this one was hard, bc i love my sukuna fics bad, but i think i like this one sm because of how i got to explore sukuna's behavior for it. the way he is still harsh, but tries to manuever himself around it and doesn't know how to handle your tears UGH kills me, and in general i really like writing for sukuna. i think its a fun challenge when it comes to him romantically

"five more minutes" choso x reader: dude, idk what it is (maybe because the college au has a grip on me bc im in college), but i just really like the character of choso i wrote in a modern setting. i also loved writing the awkward tension between him and the ready stemmed by mutual attraction. it's short and simple but i think it's sweet :)

thank you for passing this on!! :)

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fandom #jjk fanfic #anime #jjk #jjk season 2 #jjk x you

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whore4abby · 1 year ago

Note

ooo i always have so many ideas but then my mind just goes blank lol

maybe abby and the reader are at a family dinner at either abby or the readers like aunts house idk and they sneak off to a bathroom/somewhere more private to make out all messy but then the reader stops abby before anything else happens to tease her and get her all worked up??

sorry if that’s horrible 😭

-🎀

home for the holidays; abby anderson

i literally had so much fun with this aaaaaaa thank u so much for this request <3

warnings; smut - dry humping, pussy slapping, fingering, abby covering readers mouth, reader sucking abby’s fingers

wc; 1.8k…..i got very carried away hehe

you’ve always loved spending christmas with abby’s family you always have such a fun time even if it was a little hectic and frenzied at times. most of the afternoon was spent making small talk with the rest of abby’s family which abby herself was in the kitchen helping her dad make dinner.

you hung out with her siblings for a little while and played all of abby’s little nieces and nephews until you got a little disinterested and all you wanted was to just see your girl again.

you wander into the kitchen and see her stood at the island preparing ingredients for dinner. abby is doing her best to keep calm as she slices vegetables but you can tell she’s getting a little agitated with being around so many people in such a small space. you notice her hand gripping the knife harshly, freckled knuckles turning white and her jaw tightly clenched.

she’s so focused on chopping up the vegetables that she doesn’t hear you behind her.she suddenly feels a pair of warm hands on her shoulders. she nearly jumps out of her skin when she feels your touch, and she slowly turns around to face you, suddenly feeling more at ease at close proximity. "hi, my love..."

she leans into you for some much-needed comfort, leaning her head against your shoulder and you feel tension in her body beginning to dissipate. you can feel her breathing slowly becoming more even and regular as she relaxes against you.

the last couple days have been spent over at her dad’s house have been hectic and busy to say the least, leaving you little to no alone time with abby. she's been craving some time alone with you for fucking days, but the constant hustle and bustle of the house makes it difficult to fulfil.

all she wants is to have a moment where it's just the two of you, where you can spend some quality time together and not being able to do so us causing her to become more frustrated as the hours pass by.

she glances around and notices how busy the kitchen is, realising it would be pretty easy for the two of you to sneak away without anybody noticing. she’s suddenly pulling at your sleeve and ushering you through the house and up the staircase.

before you reach and empty room she’s pushing you up against the wall so hard the picture frames hung above your head rattle and clang against the drywall. you’re paranoid of somebody catching you and you swiftly pull her into the nearest empty guest room.

before you know it you’re pinned under her as she straddles you, her thick thighs pinning you down either side of your waist. abby chuckles as she struggles to take her shirt off due to the sheer excitement of finally getting her hands in you. you’re already a giggling mess as you reach up to help her pull her shirt up and over her head, sending it tumbling to the hardwood floor.

her hands start to slip up under your sweater as she desperately tugs it off your body before she starts to roughly grope your tits over your lacy bra. she gives a soft smirk and without warning, she leans down pressing her lips lovingly against yours as her hips grind against you. you pull apart for a second, looking up into her eyes with a needy gaze. “please, abs….been too long.”

“i know baby…i know.” she reassures you, glancing down at your lips before leaning close again. her mouth hungrily meeting yours, tongues swirling against each others, causing her to let out a soft groan.

her body is pressed tightly against yours as she continues to grind her hips against you. "i've missed this so much." she whispers, her voice a raspy murmur as her lips glide over your throat.

she wedges one of her thighs in between yours, her knee pressing into your cunt over your pants. your body practically goes lax as you finally get some stimulation exactly where you need it. “fuck. feels so good, abby~”

she continues to kiss you messily and grind against you, her breath becoming more shallow as she starts to lose herself in the moment. "mhm.. that's right~" she smirks, that familiar cocky look on her face as she sees how much you’re loving this.

abby's breathing becomes more shallow as she continues to rock her body against you with a bit more intensity, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip to stifle her voice as she lets out a deeper, more primal moan that makes your pussy clench around nothing whilst her knee bumps into your clit over and over.

just as the two of you start to get into a steady rhythm, you’re interrupted once again by someone calling out for the two of you from downstairs to tell you dinner is ready.

“every fucking time.” she curses under her breath as once again your alone time has been interrupted and she’s forced to pull away from you. her chest still heaving as she sits on the edge of the bed, grumbling to herself as she throws her shirt back over her head begrudgingly.

you lean up on your elbows, watching her as she practically sulks like a little child. “why does this keep happening?” you whine and throw yourself back on the bed dramatically. a second later you’re being pulled off of the bed by your forearms and your shirt is being slung over your head by abby.

you desperately hope no one will notice you slightly disheveled clothes and hair or your lip gloss that’s now sloppily smeared around your mouth. you giggle as abby reaches out to wipe the gloss away, ‘innocently’ opening up your mouth slightly and letting her thumb slip into the warmth of your mouth before she quickly retracts it. she grits her teeth and grips your jaw with her strong hand, “don’t be a fucking tease.” she mumbles sternly, pressing a long, hard kiss straight onto your lips before pulling away and dragging you out of the room and back downstairs.

hours later, everyone has gone to bed in their respective rooms for the night after all watching a movie together which finally leaves you and abby alone for the night.

she's laying on the sofa with you resting in between her legs. she watches as the next movie of the channel starts to play, but you can tell she's not really paying attention to it as her fingers run up and down your thighs teasingly, inching closer and closer to the edge of your panties each second.

she slowly starts to hike up the edge of your nightdress further exposing your thighs to cool air. she stops her teasing and eventually pulls the nightdress up over your hips so she can see the mess you’ve made in your panties. there’s already a wet patch right in the center of your pretty panties and she can’t help but run her finger over it lightly, seeing how you react.

your breath hitches in your throat and you look back over your shoulder at her wordlessly begging her to carry on. she smiles and pressing a kiss to your cheek before she pushes your panties to the side to get a glimpse of your pussy that she’s been desperate to get her hands on for the last four days.

“missed this fucking pussy so much.” she growls as she slaps your pussy sending a jolt of pleasure through your body and you whine out her name. she chuckles cruelly and slaps at your swollen clit again, harder this time whine has you loudly moaning out her name, causing her to cover your mouth with her giant hand, “shut up. be a good girl and shut up for me, yeah?”

you nod obediently and she starts to rub doting circles over your clit, snaking her other hand round to pinch at your nipples through the soft cotton of your nightdress. you’re trying you absolute best to stay quiet but you can’t help the squeaks that leave your lips, pathetic noises slipping through her hands attempt to muffle you. “shut the fuck up or i’m not letting you cum.”

your eyebrows furrow as you try your best to stay silent. her fingers move from your clit down to your weeping hole and she dips her fingers into your folds, inhaling sharply as she feels how wet you are. “god baby, bet you could take three fingers right now. you’re so fucking wet~” she slips her middle and ring finger inside, pumping them slowly as the pads of her digits bump into that spongy spot inside.

your back starts to arch into her and you attempt to pry her hand from your mouth, desperately wanting to kiss her and feel her tongue against yours. she doesn’t even have to speak as the look in her eyes says it all - she’s obviously serious about not letting you cum if you make even the tiniest of noises - she reluctantly pulls her hand away and your arm is quickly wrapping around her neck and pulling her down towards you. the both of your mouth meet in a rough kiss, tongues and teeth clashing together messily.

she adds a third finger and you have to bite down hard on your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning as she stretches your tight hole out with her thick fingers. they’re pumping in and out of you at an eye-rolling pace, completely coated in your slick and glistening in the low light emanating from the christmas tree in the corner of the dim room.

abby notices how hard you’re biting down on your bottom lip and offers you the fingers of her free hand instead. she’s nudging your chin up towards her and before you can even reply your mouth is stuffed full of her fingers exactly how your pussy is.

she’s fucked you so dumb you don’t even think twice before your sucking her fingers into your mouth, moaning around them as she plunges her fingers in and out of your dripping hole pushing you closer and closer to the edge each time. “that’s a good girl, cum for me baby~” abby murmurs, kissing up and down the shell of your ear as she keeps up the pace of her fingers.

the base of her wrist smashing against you clit with every stroke has you literally drooling all over her fingers as your pussy clenches and squelches around her fingers obscenely. your head falls back against her chest and you’re whining and gasping as you cum all over her fingers, syrupy slick gushing out of your abused hole.

abby’s fingers eventually slow down and she slips them out of you, but not without you whining in protest at the empty feeling your experiencing without her fingers stretching you and keeping your pussy stuffed to the brim. “shh…shh, it’s okay. you did such a good job baby, i’m so proud of my girl~”

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ⋆.ೃ࿔myfics⌨️#⋆｡˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚requests🫙#abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou #tlou abby #abby x you #abby the last of us #abby x reader

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inkmonster21 · 4 months ago

Text

Hearts Across the Divide

20.) The Ceremony

Noa x Fem!Human!Reader

Series Masterlist

Warning: SMUT

~oOo~

The bright morning sun streamed through the curtains, its warm light slowly invading the small space of your hut. As you slowly open your eyes, the brightness makes you squint, adjusting to the sudden brightness.

The knowledge that today was the day sent a mixture of excitement and nerves coursing through your veins. The day you and Noa would finally and fully be together, bound in a union that would solidify your love and partnership.

Your mother burst into the space with an air of excitement, holding in her hands the short garb for the ceremony and a crown of fresh, vibrant flowers. She is filled with anticipation, the significance of the day not lost on her.

Your mother approaches you with a warm, radiant smile, her voice filled with pride and affection. "It is your day," she says, leaning closer to press her head against yours in a gesture of love and support.

As you rise to your feet, you feel an inner strength and confidence. You are ready for what is to come, the mixture of excitement and nerves replaced by a sense of determination and acceptance. You stand tall, feeling the energy and anticipation of the day wash over you.

You swiftly remove your regular attire, slipping on the short, airy garment over your form, still modest. Unlike the other. Your mother carefully places the crown of flowers on your head, its brilliant colors adding a touch of beauty and elegance to your appearance.

Your mother takes your hands in hers, her grip gentle but tight. She gazes at you with fondness and appreciation, her eyes welling up slightly as she repeats, "You are beautiful." The words are spoken with such sincerity and awe that it sends a warm feeling through your chest.

“Are you ready?” As your mother asks the question, you take a deep breath, steadying yourself before responding. "I'm ready," you reply, your voice firm and determined. There are still nerves and anticipation fluttering in your stomach, but you feel more certain than ever that this is what you want.

With each step toward the large hall, you notice a subtle shift in the air around you. The once bustling village now stands still and silent, the villagers having moved inside to await the ceremony. As you approach the closed doors, a mixture of excitement and anticipation fills your being. Beyond these doors lies Noa, your future, and a lifetime of companionship.

You inhale deeply, steadying your nerves and quelling the flutter of butterflies in your stomach. Slowly, you step through the entrance, the doors swinging open to reveal the spacious hall where the ceremony is to take place.

As you enter the hall, all eyes turn to you, the colorful, flowing garment and the vibrant flowers on your head capturing their attention. But the only gaze that truly matters is that of Noa, who stands waiting for you at the end of the long aisle, his face a mixture of awe and excitement.

You feel your mother's firm yet gentle grip on your arm as she walks beside you, her pride and love are evident in her every movement. Step by step, you make your way down the aisle towards Noa, each stride bringing you closer to the moment you have been eagerly anticipating.

Loui stands beside Noa, his face beaming with pride and happiness. As you approach, he greets you warmly, his voice filled with affection. "Sister," he says, a touch of emotion in his tone. The word holds deep meaning and significance, representing the strong bond that will soon be formed between you and Noa.

Loui's deep, booming voice echoes through the hall, capturing everyone's attention. He stands tall and proud as he addresses the assembled apes. "Today," he begins, his voice filled with ceremony and solemnity, "is a special day."

Loui continues, his words filled with gravitas and importance. "Two clans, once separate, are now joining together as one. We will stand side by side in times of war and peace, forming a bond of unwavering strength and resilience." He gestures to Noa, who stands beside him, the Master of Birds. "Noa, the trusted and dedicated leader, will lead apes into the future with courage and wisdom."

Loui locks his gaze with yours, his eyes filled with pride and confidence. He nods in affirmation before continuing. "And he will do it all," he repeats, emphasizing the significance of the next words, "with our own member, our sister, at his side." The words carry heavy weight, as the apes acknowledge the crucial role you will play beside Noa.

Loui now directs his question to Noa, his gaze steady and searching. "Do you accept the responsibility?" he asks, his tone filled with a hint of command. "To hold to our clan, as you hold our dear sister?" There is an unspoken challenge in Loui's words, a test of Noa's loyalty and intentions towards you.

Noa locks eyes with Loui, giving a firm and determined nod. The response is simple yet resolute, his expression unwavering. There is no doubt in his answer, no hesitation in his determination to uphold this responsibility.

Loui's gaze shifts to you, his eyes flickering with both concern and curiosity. "And you, sister," he asks, his voice softer now, "do you believe he is worthy of your life?" The question hangs heavily in the air, as all eyes in the room turn to you, awaiting your response.

You respond with a firm and confident nod, your smile radiant and full of conviction. The words are unnecessary, and your expression speaking volumes. Your answer is a clear and unwavering affirmation of your certainty in Noa, your trust in him, and your readiness to pledge your life to him.

Loui's smile widens, his eyes filling with a sense of finality. "Very well," he says before turning behind him. He retrieves Wuka's staff, commanding Noa to kneel. Noa obediently follows the instruction, lowering himself to one knee, and awaiting the next step in the ceremony.

Loui gently places Wuka's staff on Noa's shoulders, the smooth wood resting on each side. Then, he blows a gentle puff of Ashe towards Noa, a traditional symbol of blessing and protection. The action holds deep spiritual significance, signaling the sealing of the bond and the commitment made.

As Loui commands, "Rise," Noa rises to his feet, the weight of the staff on his shoulders grounding him. The ceremony is complete.

With the ceremony complete, Loui steps forward, his presence commanding attention. He positions himself in front of both you and Noa, his expression filled with solemnity and respect. The apes in the room watch on, their eyes following Loui's every move, anticipation in the air.

Loui raises his voice, addressing the onlookers as he presents the newly bonded pair. "Presenting our brother," he begins, then turns to Noa, "Master of Birds, Noa," before shifting his gaze to you, "and his mate."

The words resonate throughout the room, officially acknowledging your union and Noa's new title. The apes watch silently, their expressions filled with a mix of respect and admiration.

As you and Noa walk down the aisle, hand in hand, the sounds of cheers and hoots fill the air. The apes in attendance express their approval and joy through their expressions and exclamations. Their celebration of your union adds a touch of festivity to the atmosphere, making the moment even more momentous.

You look to Noa, your eyes meeting his. You see in him a mix of pride and love. His grip on your hand is firm but gentle, a physical sign of the bond that has been formed between you. The cheers and hoots fade into the background, your focus solely on No a and the new chapter of your life together.

While you had officially become mates in the ceremony, you knew there was still another important event looming ahead. The Eagle Clan ceremony. This would be the official moment when you would be fully accepted into Noa's Eagle Clan, solidifying your place in their community and ensuring that you would be recognized as a full member of the clan.

You turn to face your small hut, your heart filled with mixed emotions. As your belongings are packed away and loaded onto a horse, you can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. The hut has been your home, a space where you've spent many moments and memories. But now, all of it is changing. Your life is about to take a new turn, and though it's bittersweet, you can't deny the excitement and anticipation that comes with it.

You turn to look at Loui, He stands beside you, a sly smile on his face as he gestures towards your small hut. "That's my room now," he says, his tone light-hearted yet tinged with a hint of playfulness.

You let out a laugh, rolling your eyes playfully at Loui's words. "That's fine," you reply, a hint of sarcasm in your tone. "I'm sure that as the Eagle clan's mother, I'll have a... nicer view." Your words are a subtle jab at his decision to take over your small hut, but there's a jestful undertone in your voice, ensuring that he knows you're not truly upset.

You feel the warmth of Loui's embrace as he draws you close, his strong arms wrapping around you. His words, "I am proud of you, sister," resonate deeply within you. The feeling of validation and love from your brother brings a sense of contentment and happiness. You lean into the embrace, cherishing this moment of familial connection amidst the changes taking place in your life.

Noa approaches you and Loui, a warm smile on his face. He nods to both of you before announcing, "We are ready to travel." His words bring a sense of finality to the moment, signaling that it is time to embark on the journey to the Eagle Clan's territory.

You follow Noa towards his horse, the anticipation building within you. He helps you mount the horse with ease, his strong hands guiding you onto its back. Once you are seated, he takes his place behind you, wrapping his arms around you to steady himself. The touch is familiar yet still tinged with excitement, as you can feel the warmth of his chest against your back.

Noa leans closer, his mouth coming dangerously close to your delicate skin. You feel the warmth of his breath upon your neck as he whispers, "Not much longer." The words, barely audible yet filled with anticipation, send a shiver down your spine, igniting a fluttering sensation within you.

Your thoughts are consumed with a burning desire to reach out and touch Noa, to feel his mouth upon yours and explore every inch of his body. But you know you must restrain yourself, that the time for intimacy would come later. Still, the want and need within you are undeniable, a fierce yearning that ignites a fire deep within your core.

As Noa rides into the territory of the Eagle clan, you can feel the excitement in the air, the people gathering around to welcome him home. They cast curious gazes in your direction, their faces filled with both joy and anticipation at seeing Noa's new mate. The sight of you sitting in front of him sparks a mix of emotions in the onlookers, their reactions ranging from excitement to perhaps a touch of jealousy.

The fact of your status as the mate of a leader was indeed a rare and unexpected event. The Elders, conservative and traditional in their ways, made their disapproval clear, voicing their concerns about the unconventional nature of this union. But Noa was resolute, standing firm in his belief that he was making the right decision for himself and the clan. He had brushed aside their rejections, determined to follow his heart and forge a new path forward.

As Noa dismounted the horse, he extended his hand to assist you off as well. With firm yet gentle hands, he helped you safely to the ground, making sure you had steady footing. The strength in his touch was a reassuring presence, a silent promise of his unwavering support and protection.

As the clan members approach in groups to hear about Noa's adventures and tales of bravery, you notice a young ape standing nearby, peering at you curiously. When you turn to face them, a look of fear appears on their face, and they take a step back. The sight of their timid reaction tugs at your heart, and you crouch down to their level, trying to make yourself appear less intimidating.

You slowly extend your hand out, offering a gentle gesture of reassurance. "It's okay." Your voice is soft and soothing, hoping to ease the child's fear. You maintain a steady and calming demeanor, keeping your body language open and non-threatening.

With a warm smile, you take the flower crown off your head and distribute the individual flowers to the young apes. Their eyes light up with wonder and curiosity, their faces filled with excitement as they receive the small but precious gifts. The adults observe you with a newfound respect, their gazes filled with admiration and acceptance. In their eyes, you become a symbol of peace, kindness, and unity, a welcome figure in their community.

Dar and your mother both watch you intently as you engage with the clan members, your grace and poise leaving a lasting impression. "She will make a wonderful mother," Dar says to your mother, a soft smile on her face. "You raised her well," she adds with a hint of pride.

Your mother nods in agreement, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards in a small smile. "I did my best," she replies, her voice filled with a mixture of contentment and nostalgia.

Your mother's unwavering faith and love allowed you to grow into an intelligent and strong woman. Though you were born into such hardships, with the odds stacked against you, your mother had done everything in her power to ensure your survival. Her efforts had not been in vain, and you had emerged as a capable and resourceful individual, ready to embrace your new role as a mate and future mother for the Eagle Clan.

Throughout the day, you found yourself glued to Noa's side as he guided you through the Eagle Clan's territory. He took it upon himself to introduce you to the various members of the clan, explaining their roles and responsibilities within the community. You listened intently, absorbing the information and taking note of the customs and social dynamics within the clan.

Dar approaches you, her voice firm yet gentle as she announces, "It is time." A sense of nervousness washes over you, and you find yourself subconsciously swallowing, your gaze shifting to your mother. You can feel the weight of anticipation hanging in the air, aware that a significant moment lies ahead.

Noa turns to you, his smile filled with pride and love. He leans in, resting his forehead against yours, his expression warm and comforting. "I will see you soon," he speaks softly, his words conveying a mixture of reassurance and anticipation. With a final nod, he withdraws, heading off to prepare for the ceremony.

You stand in the privacy of a hut providing an intimate atmosphere. You wait patiently, your mind and heart filled with anticipation. Soon, you hear soft footsteps approach, and the door opens, revealing your mother, Dar, Keli, and Soona. They enter the room, their faces reflecting a mixture of emotions - excitement and pride.

As your mother steps into the room, she holds the thin, delicate fabric, which you recognize as your intimates. It consists of two pieces—one to cover your chest and another to cover your crotch.

Undressing, you pull on the tiny bits of fabric, covering the essential parts of your body. Then, your mother carefully drapes the large cloth over you, the layers falling gracefully over your form. Despite the coverage, the sheer material leaves little to the imagination, enhancing your feminine silhouette.

As you stand there, draped in the layers of fabric, you can feel the beating of your heart, its rhythm quickening from a mix of nerves and anticipation. Taking deep breaths, you try to maintain your composure, focusing on the calming presence of your mother, Dar, Keli, and Soona.

Dar approaches you, her hands coming up to gently place a braided crown of blue and orange feathers upon your head. As she leans down, her forehead touching yours in a loving gesture, she speaks words of affirmation. "You are perfect," she nods, her voice firm and sincere. "The Eagle Clan is proud." Her words carry a sense of assurance and approval, a testament to your worth and the honor of your union.

Dar assesses you one final time, her gaze taking in the sight of you clad in the layers of fabric adorned with the crown of feathers. Satisfied, she nods her head, a resolute look in her eyes. "We are ready," she states, her voice firm and certain. The other women in the room mirror her nods, their expressions a mix of pride and anticipation.

The women lead you outside, and you find yourself stepping into a very different scene from your previous ceremony. The members of the Eagle Clan are all gathered around, their eyes following your movements intently. Above heads, the magnificent birds of prey soar high in the sky, their presence adding an element of grandeur to the setting. The atmosphere is charged with anticipation, palpable in the air as the clan awaits the ceremony's commencement.

Standing tall and majestic, Noa exudes an aura of authority and respect. His broad shoulders are graced with a cloak made of feathers, their vibrant colors and patterns indicative of his status within the Eagle Clan. His expression is calm and focused, his gaze fixed on you as you approach.

As Noa's gaze falls upon the fabric that drapes over your body, it's evident that the thin material leaves very little to the imagination. Every curve and subtle contour of your form is visible through the sheer cloth. Noa's breath hitches in his throat, and his hands clench into tight fists at his sides, a mixture of primal possessiveness and desire coursing through him. He can feel the growing tension within himself, the overwhelming urge to immediately claim you as his own becoming near unbearable.

You take slow, measured steps towards Noa, your gaze fixed on his face. Your mother and Dar flank either side of you, their presence a comforting reassurance during this nerve-wracking moment. As you come to a stop in front of Noa, your breathing is quick and shallow, your heart hammering within your chest.

Noa gazes at you, a warm smile spreading across his face as he takes in the sight of you adorned with the crown of feathers. His eyes hold the same spark of desire and possessiveness, but there's also a hint of joy and pride. The feathers upon your head seem to symbolically represent this new role you're about to take on as his mate, fitting perfectly to the occasion.

Dar steps forward, her voice booming out over the gathering of the Eagle Clan. Her words are clear and powerful, conveying the significance of the event that is about to take place. "Eagle Clan," she announces, "we are here today to witness the bonding between our leader and his mate." A hush falls over the crowd, and all eyes turn towards Noa and you.

Dar continues speaking, her voice carrying a sense of honor and respect. "Eagle Sun has chosen her as the Clan's mother and as Noa’s mate." As the words leave her lips, a ripple of murmurs runs through the crowd. Some members exchange knowing glances, while others look upon you with curiosity and awe. This statement cements your role as both the leader’s mate and the mother of his future children.

Dar's voice bellows out once more over the gathering, leaving a brief pause afterward. "For anyone here to reject this notion… speak now." The words are said firmly and confidently, giving anyone present the chance to voice their disagreement or objection. However, the stillness of the crowd is deafening, and no protest is heard. Instead, there is a palpable anticipation, everyone awaiting the next steps.

Noa glances at you, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Then, his hand moves, twirling one of the Eagle Sun's fathers in his fingers, a silent act of reassurance and strength. The motion seems to convey his readiness and determination, a subtle yet powerful gesture that further solidifies the bond between the Eagle Sun and himself, symbolizing his role as the new leader of the clan and as your partner.

As Dar finishes speaking, she turns to Noa, signaling his turn to speak. Noa steps forward, his eyes never leaving yours. He takes the Eagle Sun's feathers in one hand and intertwines them as Dar instructed.

Noa approaches you, his movements filled with an almost reverent gentleness. He takes one of his hands and runs it through your hair, his touch sending shivers down your spine. With a sense of focus and determination, he skillfully braids the feather into your locks. The entire time, Noa’s gaze remains fixed on your form, his eyes tracing every contour of your body, his desire for you evident in the intensity of his stare.

As the braid drops, Noa lowers his head, bringing it closer to yours. His large hands cup your cheeks, cradling your face in his palms. The intensity of his gaze is captivating, his eyes gleaming with an intense mixture of love, desire, and pride. He brings his forehead to yours, and his body presses into yours, closing any space between you.

As Noa and you stand in this intimate position, Dar's voice rings out once more. "Now as one, you are eagle clan." Her words carry a sense of significance and finality. It is a declaration of your union, symbolizing that you are now not only a part of Noa's life but also integrated into the Eagle Clan itself. The significance of this moment hangs in the air, and a sense of collective acknowledgment and acceptance washes over the audience.

As you exhale with a smile, you find yourself instinctively clinging to Noa, wrapping your arms around his muscular frame. There is a sense of comfort and security in his solid presence, and you cling to him without a second thought. His arms wrap around you, holding you close, his embrace possessive but tender.

In this passionate moment, you reach up and grab Noa's chin, bringing his lips to yours in a firm and loving kiss. The clan around you cheers and hoots, their reactions a mix of excitement and astonishment. This public display of affection is new to them, a rare sight to witness between two mates.

In this intimate moment, it feels as though the rest of the world fades away and only the two of you remain. Your lips move against each other's in a deep and passionate kiss, your senses filled only with the sensation of your mate. The sounds of the clan cheering and clapping fade into the background as you lose yourself in the connection you share with Noa.

As Noa and you part from the passionate kiss, you notice Loui standing nearby, his face creased with annoyance. It seems he isn't a fan of the display of affection. However, Soona, standing next to him, promptly smacks his arm, sending him a glare. Under her stern gaze, Loui begrudgingly joins in the cheering and applause alongside the rest of the clan.

As the ceremony comes to an end, the clan continues with the festivities. A large feast is laid out for everyone to enjoy, and an air of joyous celebration fills the area. People chat amongst themselves, sharing stories and laughter, relishing the moment. The atmosphere is one of genuine happiness and community, a testament to the strong bonds within the Eagle Clan.

The night sky is now adorned with the silvery glow of the moon, casting a soft light over the land. Most of the clan members have settled for the night, and you find yourself leaning against Noa, feeling a sense of comfort and security in his presence. You gaze at the crackling fire, its dancing flames casting a warm glow over your immediate surroundings. The flickering lights reflect in your eyes, creating a mesmerizing display as you lean back against Noa. Your family surrounds you, creating a protective circle, further adding to the sense of safety and unity.

Noa's voice breaks the comfortable silence, his words spoken softly but carrying a hint of authority. "It is late," he murmurs, his voice holding a hint of huskiness. As he speaks, you sense the energy coursing through his body, a mix of want and lust that seems to radiate from his very presence. His gaze is intense, his body language speaking to a primal desire that seethes just beneath the surface.

You turn your gaze towards Noa, your eyes roaming over his features. It is undeniable – he doesn't seem tired at all. There's an energy and intensity about him that gives away the reason for his restlessness. Nodding in agreement, you respond, "It is." Your voice carries a hint of understanding and anticipation. You can feel the same tension and desire coursing through your own body, matching the primal need that emanates from Noa.

Noa stands up first, his strong hands gently guiding your hips so that you rise with him. He stands tall, his gaze fixated on you. For a moment, he seems at a loss for words, his eyes flickering with a hint of nervous anticipation. The desire and hunger in his eyes are clear, but there's a hint of uncertainty as if he's not quite sure how to express what he truly wants.

There's a moment of awkward hesitation as both of you speak simultaneously, your words overlapping each other. You start to say, "Should we..." and at the same time, Noa begins, "...do you want to..." The realization dawns on both of you, causing a brief moment of embarrassment, but also a flicker of amusement. For a moment, neither of you speaks, the tension hanging in the air. Then, you both chuckle softly, breaking the tension.

Noa takes your hands in his grasp and gently guides you away from the fire, leading you away from the safety of your family and into a quieter, more secluded place. As you walk away, you sense the gaze of your family following you, but you remain focused on following Noa's lead. Loui's glance is filled with annoyance, but he quickly finds himself corrected by Soona once again, who seems to hold some influence over him. Gemm looks to Soona, perhaps grateful for her ability to rein in Loui's behavior.

Noa leads you to a nearby tower, its tall and sturdy structure standing out in the surroundings. With a hint of pride and ownership, he turns to you and says, "This will be...our home." As he speaks, he starts walking towards the tower, gesturing for you to follow him. The significance of this moment is not lost as you follow him along the path to the top, the anticipation of what awaits you growing with each step.

As you follow Noa into the tower, your gaze takes in your belongings that have been laid out for you. Blankets, clothes, and other human artifacts are arranged carefully, waiting for you to find their place in this new space. The sight fills you with a sense of familiarity and comfort, a hint of home in this unfamiliar setting.

Your attention is drawn to the nest, the bed that has been carefully arranged for you and Noa. It is a clear blend of both his comfort and yours, created to accommodate both of your unique needs. Whether it be the plush blankets and furs or the firm cushions, everything has been strategically placed to ensure both of you can find rest and tranquility within this space.

Noa's hand comes to rest gently on your shoulder, his touch soft and tender. The touch seems to carry a multitude of emotions, a mixture of reassurance, comfort, and a hint of possessiveness. As his hand rests on your shoulder, you can feel the weight of his gaze upon you, his eyes studying your face and body in the dim lighting of the tower.

Your eyes dart to his face, and you feel a mix of excitement and nervousness filling your body. The moment feels significant, and there's an electric tension between you two. Noa's gaze holds a mixture of desire, possessiveness, and care, his intentions clear in his eyes. This is the moment you both have been waiting for, and the anticipation hangs heavily in the air.

Noa speaks, his voice low and gentle, "We do not-" but you quickly interrupt him, shaking your head to indicate your agreement. "I want to," you say firmly, your voice filled with determination and assurance. There's no hesitation in your response, and it's clear that you're not only consenting but also eager to move forward. Noa studies your expression for a moment, his gaze searching your face for any hint of doubt or trepidation.

Noa nods in acknowledgment of your readiness, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He steps closer to you, his voice low and serious as he speaks. "Then... I have to remove… this," he states, his hand reaching out to gesture towards the thin dress that drapes over your figure. The implication in his words and the look in his eyes leaves no room for misinterpretation. He is signaling his intention to undress you, and there's a mixture of anticipation and possessiveness in his gaze as he awaits your response.

As Noa's callused fingers glide over the thin fabric of the dress, you feel the roughness of his touch against your skin. He takes the edge of the long skirt in his hand, lifting it slowly, revealing more and more of your legs with every inch he moves. There's a sense of reverence in his actions, a hint of admiration and desire in his eyes as he unveils more of your body, inch by inch.

The dress bunches at your hips, leaving your upper thighs exposed. Noa looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire as he slowly runs a hand up your bare calf, causing a shiver of pleasure to travel up your body. The touch is gentle but firm, sending a spark of heat through your skin. His gaze remains focused on you, studying your reaction, taking in the effect his touch has on you.

Noa stays low, his movements slow and deliberate. His finger trails up your body, gently tracing a path over the fabric that covers your flower. With a firm but controlled motion, he pulls the cloth over your head, leaving you bare before him. The air hangs heavy with anticipation, your breath coming in short gasps as you stand there half-naked in front of your mate. You stand before him, your body barely covered in the delicate fabric of your intimates with a heavy heart.

Noa gazes at your body with hunger in his eyes, his gaze intense and unwavering. Every inch of you feels like it's under scrutiny as he takes in the sight of nearly bare skin, the hunger in his eyes only intensifying. His jaw clenches, and he takes a step closer to you, the space between your bodies shrinking as his desire for you becomes palpable.

You place your hands on his broad shoulders as he kneels, feeling the strength and warmth of his body beneath the feathered shawl he wears. Your fingers trace the colored feathers, appreciating the craftsmanship and beauty of the garment, before gently pushing it off his shoulders. The shawl falls to the ground in a whisper of fabric, leaving his upper body bare and exposed to your gaze.

You reach for him, your hand gently cupping his cheek, feeling the rough texture of his skin beneath your fingertips. With a slow and deliberate motion, you lean down to him, bringing your lips to his in a soft and tender kiss. The touch of your lips against his sends a wave of heat through your body, and you relish the taste and feel of him beneath you.

Noa suddenly rises, his strong arms grabbing you with an assertive motion and lifting you effortlessly into the air. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist, holding on to him tightly, the position bringing you even closer to his body. The sudden action takes you by surprise, but you instinctively cling to him, feeling the solid muscular presence of his body against your own.

Noa gently lays you down on the plush bed, the soft pelts and blankets caressing your bare skin. The touch of the textures against your body sends a shiver of pleasure through you, and you find yourself sinking into the softness of the bed. As you lay there, Noa stands above you, his gaze roaming over your body with a mixture of desire and devotion.

His gaze fixated on the last two thin coverings of your body. The intensity of his gaze makes you acutely aware of your vulnerability, the thin fabric hardly concealing anything. His eyes seem to consume you, and you feel a mixture of anticipation and slight nervousness under his intense scrutiny.

You slowly take the thin covering in your hands, your fingers trembling slightly with the mixture of nerves and excitement. Slowly, you begin to remove it, your eyes fixed on Noa as you expose more and more of your bare skin. The thin fabric falls to the floor, your bare breasts hitting the air.

The sight of you causes Noa to heave, the primal need within him growing stronger by the second. He dives towards you, his hands and mouth roaming over your bare body, exploring every inch of you with an almost hungry fervor. There's an urgency in his actions, a need to touch and taste every part of you, as if he can't get enough.

Noa lowers himself. His mouth to your neck, his sharp canines gently biting at your delicate skin, causing a sharp gasp to escape from your lips. The sensation of his teeth against your flesh sends a shiver of pleasure through your body, and you arch up against him instinctively, your body seeking more of his touch.

Noa's hands run down your sides as his mouth travels over your upper body, peppering you with kisses and softly nibbling at your sensitive skin. The dual sensations of his hands caressing your sides and his mouth exploring your body send wave upon wave of pleasure through you. You writhe beneath him, desperate to have more of his touch, to have him further explore your body.

He trails his kisses lower, following the mounds of your breast. He looks at them in awe. Such a beautiful sight. So different and angelic, and all for him. Noa brings his mouth down upon one nipple. His eyes roll back as he laps at the pebble. You gasp, your body rolling against the bed breathing his name in small moans.

Noa's mouth slowly moves down your tummy, his lips pressing against each inch of exposed skin, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake. The sensation of his lips softly brushing against your stomach causes your body to arch involuntarily, the heat of his touch only fueling the growing desire in you.

Noa's lips continue their descent, moving lower and lower down your body until he is millimeters away from your covered flower. You feel the warmth of his breath against your most intimate part, a heady mix of anticipation and nervousness filling you. He's so close, mere millimeters from the very place that aches for his touch.

Noa looks up at you with a mixture of love and desire in his eyes, his voice soft and gentle as he speaks. "Are you sure?" he whispers, seeking one final assurance from you before fully succumbing to his primal urges. The question hangs heavily in the air, the moment charged with anticipation and expectation.

As you look down at Noa, hovering over your most intimate parts, you feel a sense of certainty and conviction within you. "I have never been more sure of anything... ever," you say firmly, your voice filled with determination and raw honesty. Your words are not just a reassurance for him, but also a firm declaration of your desire and readiness to give yourself to him completely.

Noa smiles, his expression filled with love and desire, before lowering himself over you and covering your body with his. He kisses you passionately, his lips moving against yours hungrily and with a sense of desperate need. His body envelops yours, and you can feel the heat of his skin against yours, the evidence of his desire pressed against you.

Noa's hand moves down your body with a possessive touch, his fingers tracing a path that ignites a trail of heat in their wake. With a firm grip, he finds the last intimate fabric that still covers you, and with a swift motion, tears it away. The sound of the fabric ripping fills the air, and you can feel the cool air on your now exposed skin, the absence of that last barrier making you even more vulnerable and open before him.

Noa gazes down at you with a mixture of awe and intensity in his eyes, taking in the sight of your bare body beneath his. The reality is better than anything he could've ever imagined. The way you look, the sounds you make, the way you react to his touch - it all exceeds anything he could've dreamed, sending a jolt of desire through him with every moment.

He kisses down your body, passing your breast with tender lips, down your sternum, down your tummy, over your belly button, and halts at the most intimate section. Noa is completely consumed by lust, his primal instincts taking over as he inhales a deep breath, the smell of you and your heat filling his nostrils. The scent of your arousal only exacerbates his desire, and he lets out a low growl, his body tightening with the need to claim you as his.

Noa carefully brings his hands to your thighs, running his hands up and down the soft skin before sliding them apart slowly. Your center becomes revealed to him and he groans with lidded eyes, his hips bucking into your form.

The primal need within Noa becomes unbearable, and he can no longer resist the urge to taste you. With a mixture of urgency and reverence, he moves his mouth down, meeting your intimate lips for the first time.

You gasp as you feel the flatness of his tongue run over your opening. You toss your head back as he does it again. He looks to you in adoration and lust. His expression is pleased with your response. The taste of you is sweet and heady, and it only ignites the fire within him further. He is losing himself in the sensation of your body, his tongue and lips moving greedily over you, desperate for more of your essence.

He bellows down deeper, wrapping his lengthy arms around your thighs and bringing you against him, digging his tongue into your heat faster, harder. You twitch and roll in the nest, his movements stir your core. A tightness builds below as he dives in. “Noa.” You gasp loudly, grabbing at his head, and tossing your head back with closed eyes. A heated rush springs through your body, a wave crashing against your insides as Noa makes you release for the first time. You cry out arching up against the nest, your fingers tangling his his coarse fur. Noa huffs, and laps at the juices spilling from your core, simply addicted.

Noa looks up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of lust and awe. He watches in fascination as your body responds to his touch, reacting to every movement of his tongue and lips. He is amazed at the way your body arches and writhes beneath him, the sounds you make only fueling his pleasure and desire.

You can't resist the urge to pull him towards you, your hands gripping his shoulders as you kiss him desperately. The need to feel his body against yours, the taste of yourself on his tongue, is overwhelming. You cling to him, your body seeking more of him, wanting to feel as close to him as possible.

You speak softly, your voice filled with a desperate intensity as you say, "I need you." The words are heavy with vulnerability and need, and you can't help but feel a hint of worry that your voice is too soft for him to hear. But Noa hears you loud and clear. The raw honesty in your voice only fuels the flames of his desire, and he responds by pulling you even closer, his body pressing against yours with a fierce possessiveness.

And who was he to deny you? Noa's response is immediate and resolute. He cannot resist your pleading plea, and he moves above you, positioning himself between your legs. His eyes never leave your face as he takes in the sight of you, the need and desire written all over your expression. He is more than ready to give you what you want, what you need.

Noa takes a moment to look down upon himself, positioning himself perfectly between your legs. The sight of himself, ready and eager for you, only heightens your desire.

Noa lines himself up to your entrance, with a heavy chest. His eyes glued to yours. “You are mine… as I am yours.” Noa pushes the head of his length in. You grip him so tightly, suffocating his girth as he inches inside. You close your eyes, through the burning pain. Though it is a stretch, it is pleasurable. The thought of Noa being the only one to ever enter, to ever claim you was exhilarating. With a slow, deliberate thrust, Noa entered her, filling her, their bodies fitting together perfectly.

You gasped as pleasure rippled through your core, unlike anything you had ever experienced. Noa's cock pulsed within, and he began to move, his strokes long and deep, his hips snapping forward with each thrust. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he pounded into you, your bodies slapping together in a primal rhythm.

“Oh, Noa!" You cried out, your head thrown back, breasts jiggling with each powerful thrust. Noa's name on your lips was a mantra, a plea for more, and he obliged, his pace increasing as his climax approached.

The grunts and moans filled the night air, mixing with the sounds of their bodies snapping together. Noa's fingers dug into your hips, holding you tightly as he sought your sweet spot, wanting to give you the ultimate pleasure. Your body trembled on the precipice of orgasm, every nerve ending alive with sensation.

Noa dips his head down, his mouth finding your neck once more, his teeth grazing against the tender skin with sharp and intense pressure. The feeling of his teeth, the mixture of pleasure and pain, sends a shiver of sensation through you, and you arch up against him, your body craving more.

Noa's voice is a low growl, filled with a possessive and primal intensity. "You... are mine," he says, before biting down on your neck, his teeth piercing the skin and drawing blood. The sharp pain is tempered by the realization that he is claiming you as his own, marking you in a way that is both intimate and intense.

With a final, powerful thrust, Noa buried himself deep within you, his cock pulsing as he spilled his seed into you, his hot cum filling you. You convulsed around him, your orgasm crashing over you in wave after wave of ecstasy. You cried out, your voice mingling with Noa's as you both rode the crest of your shared pleasure.

As your heart rates slowed and your breathing returned to normal, Noa gently removed himself, the emptiness causing you to moan. Noa joins you in the collection of blankets. You lay entwined, your sweat-slicked bodies glistening in the moonlight. You turned your head to look at Noa, your eyes shining with satisfaction and love.

"You are incredible," you whispered, your fingers tracing the feathers in his armband. Noa nuzzled your neck, his hot breath sending shivers through her. He licks at the mark softly. "You are… incredible, love," he rumbled, his voice thick with emotion. "Tonight was just the beginning…. Our bond will only grow stronger from here."

You smiled, this was just the start of your journey together. As the new leaders of the Eagle Clan, you would both face challenges, but the passion and love you shared would be a guiding light. And in that moment, with Noa's body lying next to your bare one, you knew that your mating had forged a connection that would shape the future of the world. A world where apes and humans can live side by side.

#noa x human reader #noa x reader #pota noa #noa planet of the apes #noa pota #kingdom of the planet of the apes #noa #owen teague #planet of the apes #noa kotpota #noa series #noa imagines #planet of the apes x reader #kotpota

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bubblybloob · 1 year ago

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I dare you to draw smitten with either cold or the beast, you pick.

This is because I said I hadn’t gotten many asks for the Smitten, huh?

This might actually be a bit more Cold focused, long thing I wrote below.

There were fights, a lot of fights, actually. How could there not be? Eleven voices given form, only to be cramped back into one space. At least this time it was a house, not a body.

It wasn’t a bad thing, far from it; Hero wagers most were thankful for the permanent, familiar company, while the rest indifferent. Hero himself quite enjoys chatting or playing games with the others, it isn’t uncommon for him to seek out one of the voices simply so his stirring thoughts can have an outlet.

However, sometimes the others don’t click. Usually it was fine- Broken, Hunted and Contrarian seldom got physical. Opportunist and Paranoid might if they felt strongly enough about something to throw away their pretenses or fear, but they weren’t often the issue.

The rest tended to jump to bold accusations and wild conclusions, looked forward to it even. Skeptic occasionally found himself going from relatively mundane quarrels to all out brawls from causing accidental offense. Stubborn and Cheated had a tendency to get too excited about coming out on top in one way or another, and the other two…

Sometimes it felt like they only ever fought each other.

Okay, that was lie, Cold purposely ruffled the other’s feathers out of pure boredom. Hero wondered if he had made up some sort of challenge to see if he could get the non confrontational voices riled up for a fight, given how often he pushed their buttons. Once he flat out punched Contrarian in the face just to see if he’d retaliate.

If Cold couldn’t get them to crack he’d sigh with something akin to dejection and approach someone like Cheated, maybe Stubborn if he was feeling risky- pretty much anyone with a shorter fuse so he could get some form of thrill.

But they weren’t his go to, that would be- of course- Smitten.

“You vile, wretched thing! I won’t hear another word of nonsense out of you. Begone! Foul creature!”

“Call me all the names you like, you won’t get the response you’re looking for.”

It happened just about every other day: Cold would say something off putting, Smitten would respond with something that would offend anybody else, a bit of snarky back and forth later, and suddenly hands were being thrown.

“What are they arguing about this time?” Cheated grumbled, coming up to stand beside Hero, whose eyes were encircled by dark shadows.

“I ‘dunno, woke up to them yapping at each other, or at least Smitten’s yapping, I don’t think Cold has ever raised his voice.” Hero yawned out, scratching at his horn tuft.

“With how often those two are at each others throats, I think we should count ourselves lucky one is so soft spoken.” Cheated stretched his arms and body upwards, his wings instinctively snapping outwards and flapping as he tried to relieve his muscles. The large wings smacked Hero’s side as he did, which had the heroic voice stumbling backwards as Cheated mumbled a small “sorry” out.

“It’s fine. I think it’s less that he’s soft spoken and more that he’s sharp spoken. He talks like he knows where all your vitals are.” Hero responds, shivering at his own words.

Cheated shrugs. “Probably does, he’s our resident freak after all.”

“How is it then that you feel nothing? Without feeling one will rot away, yet you’re still here.” Seems Hero had missed part of drama during his and Cheated’s little chat. Smitten had now grabbed Cold by the chest feathers and was looking ready to tear into him.

“Who knows, really? Maybe I’m like a ghost, haunting the remains that our godly self expelled. Or maybe we simply can’t die, I haven’t eaten in a while.” Cold replies with a sharp whistle.

“Ooo, he shouldn’t be so candid about saying that out loud, never know when Hunted’s listening.” Cheated says behind a wicked smile. No doubt the avian had tucked the information away for blackmail, or to get a favor from Opportunist, who also found a new joy in digging up dirt on the others for his own benefit.

Hero was about to step in at this point. Smitten looked ready to let loose, and Cold seemed to be passively soaking in the drama of it all. But before Hero could open his mouth, Smitten’s hold relaxed, and his head hung low.

“No, I see through your tricks, scum. I will not loose myself to anger over frivolous things such as this. Leave, now, I must prepare myself for the morning time.” Smitten let’s go of Cold’s feathers, which were not bunched together and frayed. Cold hums something tired.

“Weak willed of you, can’t approach her killer?” Cold tilts his head.

A flinch. “I know what you’re doing, I won’t fall for it this time, villain!” Smitten whips around, and goes to walk from the conflict.

Cold’s wry smile falls flat on his face, he turns his head toward Cheated.

“Not today pal, Paranoid seemed extra twitchy though, probably didn’t get much sleep. It’s still early and he isn’t fully alert in his head, might be able to start something up with him if you push hard enough.” Cheated suggests. Hero punches him in the arm, just when he thought there would be no morning fight to put down.

Cold’s brow raises, evidently interested in a fight with someone who rarely raised his hands. He moves past the two, already on the prowl for their jumpiest member.

“Troop on, you emotionless fuck- ow, stop that!” Cheated yelps when Hero punches him again, this time a little harder.

Cheated’s words seemed to have stopped Smitten in his tracks however, he mutters something to himself, and whips back around. “You can’t be as dispassionate as you claim! You’re merely afraid of your own feelings!”

The accusation makes the Cold stop dead. His expression is hidden, but Hero swears he sees his feathers puff out. He expects them to quickly flatten back down.

But they don’t.

Cold slowly turns the upper half of his body, his face looks… almost strained. His composure had finally cracked.

“Hmm?” He darkly hums. It’s an oddly moderate response, given how Cold takes any and all opportunities to tease whomever he talks to, especially for outlandish claims such as this.

They were outlandish… weren’t they?

Hero had a bad feeling in his gut, one he couldn’t explain.

“I’m right.” Smitten looks a little surprised, before a damn near elated expression creeps onto his face. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Cold doesn’t respond, still half turned to leave. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t swayed in the past ten seconds. Hero wonders if he was still breathing.

“You aren’t unfeeling at all, are you? You’re full of emotion! What’s is it then that makes you push them under the deep, dark waves of the heart? Fear? Want? …Guilt? I can guess what it’s for.” Smitten continues with his theory, the Cold still hasn’t retaliated.

“Ooo, might be onto something there, Smitty.” Chester looks almost excited as he says this. His words seem to encourage Smitten further, who puffs up under the praise.

Cold stands there.

“Go on then, tell us the harsh truth, fiend. You’re no emotionless husk.” Smitten moves closer and closer to Cold’s position. Hero wonders if he should put himself between the two, but he can’t say he isn’t interested to where this is going.

Smitten stands face to face with his Cold counterpart. Hero swears Cold shrinks back under the close attention.

“You’re afraid.”

For a moment, they stand there, a stare down. Hero briefly hears the faint phantom sounds of glass breaking under the weight of godhood.

In a blink Cold draws his arm back, and his fist connects to Smitten cheek.

—

WoooOooO cliffhanger that might never keep going.

I’m unsure if this is common theory or whatnot, but I’ve not for a moment believed Cold was emotionless. I think he’s hurt by what’s happened to him, so much so that he thinks being emotionless, acting only to entertain will bring him some form of twisted comfort.

I think he’s too afraid to let himself feel, so he pushes his feelings far, far down, and pretends he feels nothing. He’s so good at it that he believes it to be true.

He’s so good at ignoring both physical and mental feeling that he himself believes he is nothing but a thrill seeker. In reality, his emotions, his physical needs, it all hurt him, so he squashes both.

Think about it, you usually get him by killing the princess in cold blood, and then subsequently stabbing yourself. Both hurt him. He only knows hurt from both, so he throws them aside.

#slay the princess #stp voices #voice of the smitten #voice of the cold #voice of the hero #voice of the cheated #art #my art #writng #asks #requests #too many goddamn tags #that’s what the fandom should be called

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