#i need to know who this is so i can send so much love to you
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I don't know I'm not done talking about it. It's insane that I can't just uninstall Edge or Copilot. That websites require my phone number to sign up. That people share their contacts to find their friends on social media.
I wouldn't use an adblocker if ads were just banners on the side funding a website I enjoy using and want to support. Ads pop up invasively and fill my whole screen, I misclick and get warped away to another page just for trying to read an article or get a recipe.
Every app shouldn't be like every other app. Instagram didn't need reels and a shop. TikTok doesn't need a store. Instagram doesn't need to be connected to Facebook. I don't want my apps to do everything, I want a hub for a specific thing, and I'll go to that place accordingly.
I love discord, but so much information gets lost to it. I don't want to join to view things. I want to lurk on forums. I want to be a user who can log in and join a conversation by replying to a thread, even if that conversation was two days ago. I know discord has threads, it's not the same. I don't want to have to verify my account with a phone number. I understand safety and digital concerns, but I'm concerned about information like that with leaks everywhere, even with password managers.
I shouldn't have to pay subscriptions to use services and get locked out of old versions. My old disk copy of photoshop should work. I should want to upgrade eventually because I like photoshop and supporting the business. Adobe is a whole other can of worms here.
Streaming is so splintered across everything. Shows release so fast. Things don't get physical releases. I can't stream a movie I own digitally to friends because the share-screen blocks it, even though I own two digital copies, even though I own a physical copy.
I have an iPod, and I had to install a third party OS to easily put my music on it without having to tangle with iTunes. Spotify bricked hardware I purchased because they were unwillingly to upkeep it. They don't pay their artists. iTunes isn't even iTunes anymore and Apple struggles to upkeep it.
My TV shows me ads on the home screen. My dad lost access to eBook he purchased because they were digital and got revoked by the company distributing them. Hitman 1-3 only runs online most of the time. Flash died and is staying alive because people love it and made efforts to keep it up.
I have to click "not now" and can't click "no". I don't just get emails, they want to text me to purchase things online too. My windows start search bar searches online, not just my computer. Everything is blindly called an app now. Everything wants me to upload to the cloud. These are good tools! But why am I forced to use them! Why am I not allowed to own or control them?
No more!!!!! I love my iPod with so much storage and FLAC files. I love having all my fics on my harddrive. I love having USBs and backups. I love running scripts to gut suck stuff out of my Windows computer I don't want that spies on me. I love having forums. I love sending letters. I love neocities and webpages and webrings. I will not be scanning QR codes. Please hand me a physical menu. If I didn't need a smartphone for work I'd get a "dumb" phone so fast. I want things to have buttons. I want to use a mouse. I want replaceable batteries. I want the right to repair. I grew up online and I won't forget how it was!
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ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR - LN4
↳ pt.1
summary : Its the vacation of your dreams! With your best friends, rich men, live music, and flowing drinks, nothing can ruin it. Even if a certain Formula 1 driver (who seems to have an affinity for annoying you) is there every step of the sandy way.
listen up : suggestive themes! swearing! ‘enemies’ to lovers. probably my last sunny vacation fic for a while! get ready for winter fics!! cmt to be tagged in pt. 2 <3
word count : 4570
⋆。‧˚⋆
“Y/n!” Kika throws a pillow onto me. I groan in response, pulling the blanket over my head, “Get up! Get up! We’re leaving in thirty!”
I fall off the bed and start my rushed process of getting ready, we’re in Marmaris, Turkey for a little holiday. A holiday that I've been promised is for friends, yet every friend I have is with a man.
Kika, Alex, Rebecca, and Lily promised they would act like single ladies with me! That’s clearly not true because of the love they have for their boyfriends and how those same men never leave their sides.
The only other addition is someone I don’t want to talk about. Someone who’s a pain in my ass and the construction to my headache.
I’m instantly in a better mood when my friends and I start taking photos and making tik toks. I’m in a light blue dress and sandals, my skin is practically yearning to be tan but that will start tomorrow.
I have my own hotel room which I intend to spend no time in unless I'm hooking up with a hot turkish man. Lily holds my hand as we start walking. The guys said they would meet us there and I’ll never not treasure time with my girls.
The sun has already set but the sky is still a dark blue and orange. Lily squeals next to me, she’s in the cutest white mini dress, “I can’t believe we’re here!”
Kika laughs in a long yellow dress, “The trip literally made it out of the group chat!”
I eye them, “More like it was infiltrated by another groups chat!” Alex laughs and puts her hand on my arm.
“I promise it’ll be fun. I know you’re a little sad but we’ll find you someone!”
“It’s not even that- I just want to be with you guys.” They all seem a bit sad about it. It’s not like I don’t like their boyfriends, I consider them my friends too! It’s just that I was really looking forward to some much needed girl time.
“You are with us!” Alexandra frowns.
Lily swings are hands, “You’re with us and five other idiots who have money!”
This makes me laugh as we make it to the restaurant. It’s beautiful, part of the hotel, and looking right over the water.
The guys are already sitting. Charles, Pierre, Alex, Carlos all smile at me, kissing their girls as we sit. There is one missing, though. It’s hard to ignore but I'm definitely not complaining.
Drinks are ordered and our thoughts about the hotel is passed around. I became friends with this group through Lily, we grew up together and when Alex suggested I should come to a grand prix, I was hooked.
The other girls took to me immediately and were so excited to have another friend that they actually like. I don’t travel as much as them, but I do see them often enough.
We haven’t gotten together in a group like this though in forever!
I sip on my cocktail and talk to Carlos as his eyes stray past me. I turn to look at what he’s distracted by and have to fight the urge to roll my eyes.
You know those people who just really piss you off? The type that just irks you even though you’ve tried to hear your friends out?
That is how I feel about Lando Norris.
He strolls up to our table as if he isn’t late. He’s in blue jeans and a white button down that’s definitely not buttoned enough. His hair is messy and looks like he just woke up, “Hey.” Is all he says before plopping down next to Carlos and sipping his water.
Rebecca already sends me a look that screams, ‘Leave it.’ So I do, I order my food and talk to my friends while avoiding the man two seats down from me.
It’s not just that Lando bugs me, It’s that he’s repeatedly cocky and flat out annoying. He teases me any chance he gets and it never fails to ruin my day. He knows it too.
“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Pierre asks as he puts his arm around Kikas chair, everyone’s food is nearly gone and I'm more than ready to climb into my plushy hotel bed.
Alex holds Lily’s hand, “Beach, explore, eat? That’s also my plan for every day of our trip.”
Charles nods, “My buddy has a boat out here that he said we can borrow one day.”
I smile and lean my head on Kika’s shoulder, “I'll be anywhere you guys go, with a book and an apple.”
“You still into that?” His voice already pisses me off. I look at Lando who’s staring at me, “Reading.”
I blink. “Are you still into being illiterate?”
Charles covers his laugh with a cough as Alexandra shakes her head, “Hey! You two need to keep it civil this trip.”
Carlos eyes Lando pointedly as he groans, “Why? I didn’t even do anything! The witch said I was illiterate!”
I sit up straighter immediately, leaning over Carlos as my friends talk in a haze around me, “You really wanna see a witch, Norris, I’ll fucking show you!”
“The worst thing you could do to me is throw sand in my face!” I groan as he rolls his eyes and Kika pulls me back into my seat.
“This is what we’re talking about!” When she whispers is when I realize the people dining around us are staring.
“It’s one week!” Pierre shakes his head, “One week of peace!”
I don’t dare look at Lando, my arms crossed.
He gives in peace, “I won’t start anything if she won’t.”
“Perfect, I'll have a great trip of silence.” Fine by me. I can ignore him for a week, easy.
Lily and Rebecca exchange looks as Lando speaks again, “It’ll be nice not hearing your-” Carlos slaps his arm and he shuts up.
I sigh in my seat, this is going to be an interesting week.
⋆༺
I start off my first full day with breakfast. I’m up early and decided to make the most of it by enjoying my food with a beach view.
I grin when I see that there’s two pieces of bacon left, grabbing them swiftly and plopping it onto my plate just when someone goes to reach for it.
I look up to see Lando. He’s sweaty and in running clothes, looking at me annoyed per usual, “Seriously? Who takes the last two pieces?”
I raise a brow, “Me. You literally just saw me do it.”
He gives me a bored expression, “Didn’t you ever get taught manners?”
“I got taught how to get what I want.” I bite into the piece of bacon just to watch him flinch. “Weren’t you taught that it’s not nice to be insufferable?”
“Can’t you share? It’s one piece.” I take another bite, pretending to think.
“Hm… No!”
“We’re supposed to be civil. Friends even!” He steps closer, “I know you would give the piece to Lily.”
“You’re too greedy.” I finish the first piece of bacon and start to walk away. He scoffs and follows me.
“Me!? Greedy?” He scoffs, plate still in hand. I eye it, it’s mostly empty except for a nutella crepe, “You know what- never mind.”
I nod, “Great job being civil, Norris. I’m so proud of you and you for giving up.”
He does not find this funny, “I can’t stand you.”
“Then sit.” His eyes narrow at my words.
“Fuck it, Free will!” and with that, he grabs the piece of bacon off my plate and runs!
“Norris!” I yell after him but when he turns, he’s smiling with a mouth full of bacon. “Dickhead.” I mumble to myself and continue getting my food.
⋆༺
I’m warm, I'm tipsy, and I'm listening to live music. I don’t think life could get any better. I sit up on my beachside chair, lifting my sunglasses to see Lily, Alex, Charles, and Alexandra playing chicken in the water.
Kika stirs next to me, she was asleep on her stomach but slowly sits up when she hears our friends laughing.
I watch Lando and Pierre floating and Carlos swimming towards them. Rebecca went to get drinks so that just leaves Kika and I.
“How’s the whole ‘civil’ thing going?” She’s in an orange bikini that makes her look unfairly tan.
I shrug, “Bad? I just can’t imagine talking to him normally. We always fight.” I sip my drink, the glass coats my hand in condensation but it cools me down.
“Maybe you should just fuck.” I choke on my drink. She doesn’t even attempt to hide her laugh, “Sorry, Sorry!”
“Kika!” I slow my breathing, “Why would you say that!?”
“It makes sense! You’ve got a lot of pent up energy… I’m just saying!” I shake my head, pulling my sunglasses back on and laying down again. “I know you’re attracted to him.”
I pray that she thinks my cheeks are red from the sun, and not from her words. “I am not.”
“You can't lie to me!” She laughs, “It’s not a bad thing, Y/n. You both just need to shut up for two seconds and get eachother shirtless.” Lily walks up right as she says that.
She plops down onto the sand, “Whatever this is about- I agree!”
“She’s trying to get me to- Nope! I’m not even going to say it!” I can’t have that manifestation in my life.
“I think she should hook up with Lando.”
“Completely agree. Just make it quick.”
“If he’s with her, he’s gonna be quick.” Kika jokes and I actually laugh at that one.
“Okay enough! I’m not taking any advice from you two!” I stand, pulling my hair tie out of my hair and starting down the beach.
“Think about it!” Lily yells as I flip her off.
Now all I can think about is hooking up with him. I mean, I hate the dude, but I’m not blind.
Lando is fucking fit. But it’s hard for me to see past his assholeness. So the probability that i’m going to fuck him, is slim. Very slim. Like ZERO.
Just as I'm off in my Lando Norris shirtless world, a shirtless Lando Norris walks up to me. He’s exiting the ocean, pushing his wet curls back as he laughs with Carlos.
I look away as soon as I get a glimpse of his torso. The cool water feels great on my legs as I walk in the ocean. I sink down and dunk my head, opening my eyes underwater, I see the tiny fish and shells.
I reach down and grab a handful of sand, when I get air again, Carlos and Lando are next to me. I push the sand off my hand to reveal some shells and a tiny crab, “Aw!” I smile at it, showing it to the boys.
Carlos raises his brows, “Looks harmful.”
“Harmful?” I glance at him, “He’s a baby!” I hold it closer to him and he backs away like it’s going to jump on him.
I turn to Lando and do the same, he backs away as well, “Pussy.” I say it to his face and he clearly takes it as a challenge.
He holds his hand out and snatches the crab right from my hand, “Are you just a thief by nature?”
He gives me a look before bringing his hand closer to his face to examine the sea creature. I step closer to see it, “It’s adorable.”
“It’s a crab.”
“Thank you, Norris, for your insightful words of wisdom.” I go to take it back from him but he jumps and throws his hand down.
I let out a huge laugh when I realized it’s holding onto his thumb, “Shit! Ow!”
I keep laughing as Lando panics, swinging his hand around to try to get it off. Carlos is long gone by now, not amused by his friends' antics.
The crab finally unclips itself from Lando and he looks like he was just betrayed. I grin, “Maybe I am a witch!”
He looks me up and down, holding his hand and thinking. “If you call me a bitch that crab won’t be the worst thing that hurts you today.”
And then something weird happens.
He smiles.
He just smiles and walks away.
⋆༺
LANDO
Marmaris is stunning. The water is clear and besides me getting bitten, I'm having a great time. We end up going into town to get lunch and I'm faced with the issue of Y/n’s ass in my face as we walk up what feels like a million stairs.
I really feel like she’s doing this on purpose but I could be thinking that to just make myself feel better about checking her out.
She’s in tiny low waisted jean shorts. I can see her bikini bottoms peeking out from the sides. Her top is a crocheted cover up so her sliver of a bathing suit is still on display.
Carlos pushes my back when I slow down on the steps, I turn around to swear at him but he’s giving me an all knowing look so I close my mouth.
After what feels like hours of staring at Y/n’s backside, we make it to the lunch place. It’s hidden quite far up and we all get cramped into the room with a huge window and a view of lemon trees.
With our stupidly coupled up group, I'm forced to sit with Y/n. She’s across from me, sipping on her water and leaning on the table with her arms crossed.
When she notices I'm staring at her, she glares at me. I can tell she’s about to say something snappy, but eyes our friends and shuts her mouth.
As much as she pissed me off, I find it fun to annoy her. I like the way her cheeks heat and how her lips press together, but I would never admit that to her.
“Did you go for a run this morning?” Carlos asks me while shoveling food into his mouth.
“Yeah and the gym- it’s nice.”
“And quiet?” I nod, knowing what he means. Five Formula 1 drivers on vacation together is pretty hard to miss. But besides a stare or two, no one has said anything to us.
Lily claps her hands together, “Who wants to go golfing with me on wed-”
Y/n groans, putting her head in her hands, “No!” Kika looks horrified at the suggestion as well.
“Yes!” Carlos and I say at the same time. Lily has been a great addition to our golfing group and by far the best out of the three of us.
Rebecca laughs, “I’m with Y/n on this one. I’m feeling… spa?” This immediately perks Y/n up.
“That sounds perfect!” Alex smiles, “Girls day! Minus Lily because she’s actually good at a sport.”
Charles eyes us all, “I wanna go to the spa. I hate golfing.”
⋆༺
YOU
When Rebecca suggested we take a cooking class, I thought it was a great idea! I’m not the best cook so why not learn something? I had a bad feeling as soon as we entered and the room was decorated with hearts.
“Welcome! Welcome!” A man ushers us in along with two other groups. The room is large with one wall completely open and facing the beach. “Everybody get a table and we shall begin!”
“I knew I missed something on the website…” Alex cringes as we stare at the tables set for two, “Sorry? Lando, careful with Y/n and knives!”
A couples cooking class!? You’ve got to be kidding. I look at Lando the same time he turns to me, “Well, love… Let me handle the sharp things. I value my life.”
This is going to be the longest hour ever.
“My lovely people in love!” The man is short, with gray hair and the biggest smile I've seen in a while, “My name is Ali and today we begin making the dough for Kemal Pasha!” Apparently the kind we’re making is sweet balls of dough with a very delicious sounding syrup.
I’m standing next to Lando who’s struggling with his apron. They have huge heart pockets and his is bright green. As fun as it is to see him struggle, I want to start cooking soon.
“Give me that.” I swat his hands away and step behind him, taking the pieces of fabric and tying a knot.
“Thank you, Sweetness.” I suspect that this teasing won’t end soon, considering the man teaching the class asked everyone what their names were and put a name tag on each table of the couples ‘ship’ name.
I tie it tight and he flinches, “Hey my girl is trying to kill me!” I roll my eyes and loosen the bow, listening to the man and thanking the woman who’s walking around to make sure everything is correct.
I pour in all the ingredients and Lando starts stirring. I look around at all the couples, they’re doing everything together while looking all lovey dovey.
It makes me miss my ex. Which is weird because we barely acted like this alone. But still, seeing Alex and Lily laugh with flour already on their faces makes me sad.
“Angel!” Lando calls for me again as I put my hand on my hip. He has his hand out that’s covered in white powder, “C’mere!”
“No!” I back up but he’s already pulling me in and squeezing my face. I frown, my face squished between his hand as he laughs. I can feel the flour covering my face. I put on a slow smile when he drops his hand, “Aw, love bug!”
Nothing about my tone is loving and I can tell he’s not excited by the way his face drops. “Now darling…” He backs away as I pour some of the flour from the container into my hand, “I told you i’ll let you lick food off of me later, not here!”
I scoff at his audacity and throw the flour right into his face. When he opens his eyes, I slap my hands over my mouth. His whole face is white and when he breathes out, some comes out of his mouth.
I hold back a laugh as he stares at me, along with the rest of the room, “Oh baby… you’ve got a little.” I motion to his whole face, “Just a little something right there.”
“Er…” The man blinks at us, “True love comes in many forms!” He laughs uncomfortably as we get back to mixing our dough.
“That was not a fair move, Love.” Lando whispers to me as I knead the dough between my hands. His face is wiped off but the flour still resides a bit in his hair and cheeks.
“All's fair in love and war.” I say sweetly.
“Alright ladies, If your man isn’t helping you with his big strong muscles…” Ali eyes us, “Remind them who you are! Men, help your women!”
I turn back at Lando, looking up at the driver, “Do you need reminding?”
He just bites his lip and turns me back around, his hands on my waist. That, I did not expect. My hands go back to the dough in the bowl and his arms move into view, copying the other couples and massaging the treat with me.
I swallow and eye the veins in his arms that go all the way to his hands. His very big hands. The same hands that softly reach over mine.
His touch is surprisingly gentle as he matches my movements. I try to not think about how close he is to me, and focus on the dough but fuck that because I can feel him behind me.
I move back a bit unconsciously and his hand goes to waist to stop me, “Do you need reminding?” His voice is deep in my ear and I fight the urge to roll my eyes even though I know my cheeks are hot.
I thank god when Ali says we will be moving onto rolling the dough into little balls.
I swiftly move away from Lando and don’t dare look at Alex or Kika who I know is looking at us. I start rolling the dough in between my hands.
Lando glances at me, his balls sort of uneven and too small, “Your balls are ugly.” Lando chokes on air and whips his head around to look at me.
“Excuse me?” I roll my eyes at his suggestive tone and show him one of mine, “Ah so you’re a ball expert? Working from experience?”
He’s so childish it makes me want to throw one of these at him. Sadly, I'm not above acting suggestively, “Never worked with any so small.” I shrug as he stares at me. That shuts him up really quick as we place them on a round baking sheet.
We take a short break while they bake and I venture outside, looking over the balcony to the sea far below us.
My skin feels rejuvenated by the sun, I’m tanner and I swear the air is just different here. Alex appears next to me, he looks quite happy, “Having fun?”
I shrug and realize that I actually have been. “Uh… yeah.”
“You know, I think everyone else thinks you’re a real couple. It’s cute.” I gape at him. Is Alexander Albon betraying me right now?
“It is not cute. He’s bullying me.” He just snorts.
“Sure…”
I frown when Ali calls us back in. Lando and I are mostly quiet while stirring our syrup. As it boils, he nudges me. I look up to see him watching another couple.
They’re practically making out and feeling eachother up. I let out a laugh that his eyes widened at, “You’re so not inconspicuous.” He whispers, leaning down a bit.
“They are definitely not paying any attention to me…” They’re so wrapped up in each other that they don’t even notice when Ali turns their mini stove top off so their sauce doesn’t burn.
He looks down at me one last time, sending me a tiny smile. I think it’s the first time I'm genuinely attracted to him when his shirt is still on. Shit.
⋆༺
LANDO
Besides Y/n trying to kill me with the dessert we made, we were civil throughout the rest of the class. We get to take home a small box which leaves everyone in a good mood.
“Here, pretty, I don’t think I can eat that without feeling sick.” I don’t mean to call her that, but I just say what comes to my mind. I hand her the box and takes it without any change of expression.
I’m ready to leave but Ali claps his hands together one more time, “My lovebirds!” Y/n gives me a look that I laugh at, “One more gift for a very special couple of… well, couples!”
He pulls out three pieces of paper. Handing one to the couple that was making out he says, “Most affectionate!”
Then he turns to Pierre and Kila and hands them one, “Best dessert!” I realize these papers are some typos of superlatives.
I think he’s going to go to Charles and Alexandra, but he turns to Y/n and I. A big grin on his face, he hands me a paper. I read it before he says it and my eyes widen, “The most authentic love!” I don’t look at her, I can’t.
“I hope one day you all come back!” And with that, we’re ushered back and stripped of our aprons.
Y/n is already walking down the marble steps with Lily and Rebecca next to her. Carlos just shakes his head and slaps his hand on my shoulder, “Man… Congratulations!”
I eye him as Alex laughs, “I’m framing that!”
⋆༺
YOU
Six hours later, i’m in a tiny white dress, my hair curled and makeup done, and on my way with Rebecca and Alex to a club.
Everyone’s already left but Alex took extra long to slick back her hair. “So!” Rebecca grins as we walk past the beach, “Plan for tonight? Hook up with a local? Make out on the beach?”
I laugh at her enthusiasm, “I’ll see where the night and vodka takes me! I really just need a hot dance partner and a good drink.”
And that’s exactly what I get. I get my drink and well.. many hot dance partners! My friends and I scream the lyrics of the songs we know, holding hands and jumping around.
The club is part of the resort we’re staying at. It’s half on the beach and half in the beach bar that has a 24 hour drink service. I laugh at the guys who are awkwardly waiting for their girls to join them again.
“Okay, go, go!” They leave me at the bar and as soon as they’re gone, a man approaches me.
He’s very tall and very blonde, “Hi.” he’s got an accent but I can’t tell from where, “I couldn’t help but notice you dancing…” I listen to the same line that a hundred guys have fed me before. “Could I buy you a drink?”
Now this is what I like! Ten minutes later I'm dancing with him and a vodka lemonade. His hands are on my waist as I laugh.
He’s hot against me, his hair sweaty and salty. His name is Leon and he really likes my dress. I have a feeling he would like me without it too.
“Are you staying at the hotel?” He asks, screaming in my ear.
I nod, “Are you?”
“I’m staying in town with a friend!” I nod and sip my drink as he talks, “Do you know him?” I frown at his words, turning to see who he’s talking about.
I roll my eyes at Lando who’s standing with a pretty girl but staring at me. I turn back to Leon, “No!”
He looks like this annoys him, “Well i’m not surprised! You’re hot!” I nod as the music continues and keep dancing with him.
He turns me around so he’s staring at my ass instead of my face. But I just slip my fingers into my hair and keep dancing. I open my eyes to see Lando again. The girl is still talking but he’s still staring at me.
I run my middle finger around the rim of my glass, the sugar lifting onto my skin. His expression stays dark and focused on me as his hand goes to his jeans pocket. I lift my finger to lips, licking off the sugar without breaking eye contact.
He brings his drink to his lips and that’s when I realize I've had a bit too much to drink because he looks too damn hot.
He’s in a light blue shirt, his silver rings and LN4 necklace sat on his skin like it belongs there. His hair is damp with I don’t know with what… sweat, water, or the air, I don’t care. His jaw ticks at Leon’s hand moves from my waist to my stomach, my head dropping back on his shoulder, and spinning back around.
He kisses me, it’s messy and drunken but I don’t care. It’s only when he whispers, “Let’s get out of here.” When I'm massively turned off.
I end up back with my friends, Lando nowhere in sight and a smile on my face as we sit at the bar and drink.
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#f1 fic#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris fluff#lando x you
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How about batboys reacting to seeing their lover’s nip piercings through their shirt? like that’s the first time they’ve seen them? (i’m getting mine done soon i’m hyped)
Nipple piercings are so fucking cool dude! Funny enough I have a friend who’s got their nips pierced, all I know it’s a sensitive spot to get pierced but they look really cool. Also I now got snakebites…eating will be a little different but I’ll be okay.
Dick is fighting for his life, gnawing at the bars of his enclosure the moment he got a little peak of your nipple piercings.
He’s trying not to groan aloud at all because nipple piercings are his weakness and of course you have to go get them and turn him with them. They look beautiful, stunning, gorgeous on you even that he can’t help but take sneak peaks now and then at your tits, hoping to catch a glimpse of the metal piercing through your shirt.
He loves your piercings, they’re his favourite things to look at in all honesty and he’ll look at them all day if he could.
‘Looking good babe!’ He’d say upon first seeing them and you couldn’t help but smile, knowing damn well that the moment you got them done that Dick would be all over you like a rash.
‘Thank you sweetie, nice to know you noticed I got them done in the first place.’ You said with a chuckle as you gestured towards your chest and feeling his eyes there immediately it was humorous.
‘I notice everything babe and I must say they’re looking gorgeous.’ Dick replied as he gazes at the metal bars through your shirt with adoration, fascination and a little bit of lust. ‘Need me to give them some aftercare?’ He adds wiggling his eyebrows playfully as you laugh. ‘As much as I would love that but these puppies are fresh and I’ve been given strict rules to follow if I want them to heal correctly.’ You tell him and see his shoulders defeat and a pout crosses his lips, he was so dramatic that even your own nipple piercings weren’t safe.
‘Fine, I’ll wait until they get better and then I’ll give them some tender loving care of my own.’ Dick promises and you didn’t doubt that for a single second, after all nipple piercings were a little weakness of his.
Tim is looking away immediately, he didn’t mean to look at all and felt as though he’s overstepping some boundaries by looking and that’s not what he wants to do.
He’ll twiddle his thumbs or play with his phone so that he doesn’t accidentally look directly at your nipple piercings through your shirt and you catch him doing so by pure coincidence. Tim seriously think he might faint if he saw pierced nipples as it was an sensitive part of your body as well as an intimate area to have done, though that doesn’t mean he won’t compliment your piercing sheepishly.
‘They look wonderful honey.’ He’d say with a flustered expression, the imagine of your pierced nipples now engraved in that photographic mind of his, which was a blessing and a curse. Poor boy just wanted to say you have nice piercings without coming across as weird or creepy for staring there at the first place, regardless of whether he was your partner or not.
‘You can look Tim, I really don’t mind.’ You tell him as you watch him internally struggle with himself and decided to end the conflict for him instead, not wanting to see him so worried like he was right now as he gripped his phone so tight you fear he’d break it.
Tim peaks at the corner of his eye to look at your piercings through your shit and he swallows thickly, a piercing shouldn’t have this much affect over him but here he was finding a simple piercing pretty and enticing. It suited you that was for certain and Tim couldn’t help but admire the way they looked beneath your shirt, it was almost like a little tease of what was there and it would be enough to send anyone mad with want.
However Tim only looked at them and admired your ability to go through with it and getting them pierced, even despite the knowledge that they’ll hurt you went through with it anyway and came out with something, ‘beautiful, they look beautiful.’
Jason may look like he’ll stare at your nipple piercings but is actually trying his hardest to not looks at them unless you want him to.
‘Jason! I got my nipples pierced! Look!’ You’d exclaim, lifting your shirt to show him the metal bars that pierced through your now erect nipples with shining pride.
‘You look gorgeous sweetheart.’ Jason would say truthfully as he gazed upon your piercings, before his mind wondered to the pain you endured to get them pierced, seeing as how nipples were notorious sensitive and piercing them only seemed to make Jason wince internally. ‘But that must’ve killed to get done chipmunk.’ He adds and you only smiled as you dropped your shirt, making sure it didn’t catch your piercings and shrug.
‘I mean yeah it did but they look came out looking fantastic don’t you think jay bird?’ You asked as you gestured towards your piercings. Jason swallowed thickly as he was quick to agree with your statement, not wanting to show just how affected he was by your pretty piercings. ‘There’s no doubt about that sweetheart, none at all.’ He says as you walked over and held his face, fingers trailing towards his pulse point that was beating faster than usual, and giggling softly.
‘It’s okay for you to look, look all you want I really don’t mind because at least someone other than myself is going to admire them and who better than my handsome partner.’ You teased as you kissed his lip before pulling away.
‘Sweetheart you’re going to kill me one of these days.’ Jason groaned as he pulled you in close while being careful with your piercings, having read somewhere that torso related piercings can take up to six moths recovering, with nipple related piercings needing a maximum of a month in fresh nursing pads. He just wants your piercings to heal without any problems or worries and so he’ll put aside his desire to get closely acquainted with them.
You smiled as you kissed his cheek. ‘But you love me for it.’
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfic#dc comics x reader#dc fic#dc x y/n#dc fanfiction#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd imagines#jason todd x you#tim drake x you#tim drake imagines#tim drake x reader#tim drake imagine#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fluff#dick grayson x y/n#red hood imagine#red hood x reader
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It's a Love Story - Chapter 6
Summary:
Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.
Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.
And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.
Warning:
DEFINETLY NSFW! Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.
For somebody that filled her romance novels with plenty of smut… Sky wasn’t exactly as experienced as one may expected.
Actually…she was woefully inexperienced.
There had been Admon…and Admon it had been.
The rest of the stuff in her books…well, that was just her fantasy wildly spinning stories about how sex should feel. Informed by plenty of books she had read, other authors, and of course…there were the two people that got to read every book she wrote before it was published: Orla, her publisher, and her friend Ressina, who was nice enough to take the pen to every thing she wrote that was woefully inaccurate.
Because nothing ever felt to her like she portrayed it in the books.
Maybe that was normal. Maybe it was because of course her books portrayed something…better than reality, an escape from it. But still…sometimes Sky had just wondered…
As Azriel carried her towards the bedroom, Sky couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nervousness in her stomach. It wasn’t that she didn’t want this, she did, more than anything. But the truth was, she was…nervous.
She had written about this moment countless times, had described it in vivid detail in her novels. But now that it was actually happening, she felt…insecure. What if it wasn’t as good in real life as she made it out to be on paper? What if she did disappoint him?
(Sky knew that she had disappointed Admon numerous times…that she seemingly had never been enough for him…had been so bad at it in fact that he had instead slept with her sister…which was a whole other kettle of fish that she really didn’t want ot think to close about right now.)
Sky tried to push those thoughts aside, to focus on the here and now.
Azriel was here with her, he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. She could feel it in the way he held her, the way he looked at her. And yet, that nagging feeling of doubt still lingered.
And then there was the fact while he had admitted to sending his shadows to search for her… Sky was still keeping a rather big secret.
“Az…Azriel…” she said hesitantly. “There…there is one thing you should know about me.”
Azriel paused, setting Sky down on the bed gently before turning to look at her.
"Go on," he prompted her gently, taking her hand in his as he sat down next to her and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You can tell me anything, Sky." She believed him. he wouldn’t judge her. She was sure of that as well.
“You…You k…know how…how I…I write… ro…romance no..novels?” Sky asked him, biting her lip.
Azriel nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes, I do," he said, leaning in closer to her. "You told me.”
“I…I am Sellyn Drake,” she blurted out.
She had never outright admitted it to another person.
Ressina had been the one who had send off her first manuscript to be published…and Orla had met with her…these were the two people in existence that knew that Skylar Alden was also Sellyn Drake. And Skylar had always been comfortable with keeping it that way.
There was no need to tell anybody else.
Which was why it worked so well, that Ressina was an artist and could paint the bookcovers for her. No need whatsoever to let anybody else see the hesitant first drafts until she was sure this was where she wanted to go. Just Ressina. Just one of her very few friends. If not her only.
Azriel stared at her, his eyes widening in surprise. "What?" he asked, completely taken aback. "You're...Sellyn Drake?" There was no…outright disbelief in his voice, just shock.
*We know! We made Master read your books!* the shadows cooed. *Lady Death, The Priestess and The Shopkeeper love them too!*
She had no idea who any of these people were but…
Azriel's eyes widened even further as the shadows spoke up. "You...you knew about this?" he asked them, turning towards the shadows in disbelief. "You knew. That’s why you gave me her books to read!”
This was just getting better and better.
Sky, who had been watching Azriel and the shadows’ exchange with a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment, couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
“Do…Do they always…” she couldn’t even put it into words.
Azriel sighed. “They like to meddle,” he said darkly. “And this time they were particularly persistent.” He shot a reproachful look at the shadows, who cowered a little under his gaze. "I won't lie, they did manipulate me into reading your books. And when my shadows do something they are rather...convincing."
She swallowed.
“Did…did you…li…like them at…at least?” Sky asked hesitantly.
Azriel hesitated for a moment before answering.
"I...I did," he admitted earnestly. "Your writing...it's brilliant, Sky.” Her heart soared at his words. She treasured them, hoarding them away like a dragon. But he wasn’t done. “The characters, the emotions, the way you make the reader feel everything...it's incredible. I couldn't put them down."
Sky grinned at his words, feeling a swell of pride in her chest. "I…I'm glad you..you li…liked them," she said softly.
*Master especially liked the…*
“Shut. Up.” Azriel snapped, his ears reddening and Sky started laughing. She could just about imagine what the shadows wanted to tell her at that moment.
Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I'm going to kill them," he muttered under his breath.
"They…they are ju…just try…trying to help you, aren't they?" she asked softly, squeezing his hand in hers. Only now she noticed the violent scars that marred them, the texture of raised and bumpy skin…but she didn’t care. Not one bit.
*Of course, we are,* the shadows said, like any other idea was simply blasphemous. *We gave Master the best information we could. So that Master would know what you like.*
Sky probably shouldn't find it as adorable as she did. But the lengths they had gone to...the way they had made Azriel read her books so that he would know what she liked...nobody in her life had ever gone to these lengths just to find out what she liked.
"I swear I am not a total creep," Azriel told her with a grimace.
Sky laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "No…no, no, you're not," she assured him, squeezing his, hands gently. "I…I ac…actually think it's… quite… sweet. In a weird, sli…slightly invasive kind of way. But sweet nonetheless."
"I think you are the only female that could possible think that," Azriel muttered, glaring at the shadows that didn't seem apologetic in the slightest.
Sky grinned, leaning in closer to him. "It’s… endearing,” she finally settled on. “Maybe even a lit…little bit charming," she promised him earnestly.
Azriel looked at her incredulously, his expression softening a little. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?" he asked her.
Sky shook her head. "No. No, I'm not," she said, her voice unwavering. "I…I mean it, Azriel. It iss actually really sweet that you would go to… such lengths just to try to un…understand me better. And you ad…admitted to it. And not just after the mating bond was accepted but within hours of meeting me."
Azriel didn't keep it a secret, even when he could have, and she would have been none the wiser.
"I don't know what I ever did to deserve you. But I'm not going to question it," he whispered.
She swallowed. That's what she was thinking. The exact same words.
Sky pulled him down, letting his forehead rest against hers.
"I know that...that I am supposed to cook you something...but how disappointed would you be if I gave you one of those caramel bonbons in my purse to accept the bond instead?" she asked him softly, meeting his gaze.
His eyes widened and he stared at her in pure, undiluted wonder.
"I could not possible be dissappointed by whatever you offered me," Azriel whispered. "But...are you...are you sure?"
"I am being utterly selfish," she whispered. "Yes. I want you." She didn't care that people would have thoughts about it...that she was rushing into this.
They were probably right.
But Sky really didn't care. Sky only wanted him. Sky was ready to throw caution overboard and rush into this headfirst without a thought about the consequences, if that meant that she would get her mate.
"Then let's be selfish together," Azriel whispered.
With shaky hands she reached into her purse, finding one of the caramel bonbon she kept in there...unwrapped it out of the paper and then...then she offered it to him, lifting it to his lips.
Azriel looked at the bonbon, then at her, and for a moment she thought he would say something. But then his mouth opened and he took it from her hand... He chewed it, swallowing carefully, his gaze never wavering from hers. For a moment, they stayed suspended in that moment of tension, the only sound their breathing. And then, he leaned in, closing the distance between them, and kissed her as if she was the most precious thing in his entire world.
A Mating Frenzy had always been protrayed as animalistic in every book she read. So of course, Sky had written the exact same thing.
But it wasn't...not really.
Not for them.
And being with Azriel was also a far cry from being with Admon...mostly because then it had often been...embarrassing and painful.
Admon had always found something to criticise on her body...foreplay had been nonexistent, even when she had tried...and while he had been more than willing to use her mouth to find his own pleasure he had never returned that favour.
With Azriel it was different. Every touch, every caress, every kiss made her feel things she had never felt before. It was like her body was coming alive for the first time.
All her senses were heightened, every nerve in her body singing with pleasure, and Sky couldn't get enough of him. She wanted more. No, she needed more. As Azriel trailed kisses down her throat, she arched her back, pressing herself against him, her hands roaming over his body, exploring every inch of him that she could reach.
"Can I...Can I touch your wings?" she asked breathlessly, not wanting to...cross some unsaid line.
"Please," Azriel breathed out. "Yes, Sky, please." He lifted his wings, extending them out behind him, giving her free rein to touch and explore to her heart's content. As Sky's fingers brushed against the contours of his wings, Azriel let out a low, guttural moan, his wings twitching and shuddering at the sensation. They were massive and pitch black.
"They are beautiful," she whispered, running her hands over the silky black skin, feeling the warmth radiating from them.
He shuddered at her touch, his wings arching and trembling beneath her gentle caress. he leaned his forehead against hers as he gently tipped her back against the bed and she went willingly, wrapping her hands over the gleaming talons at the tip of his wings as she kissed him.
Azriel growled softly in response, his hands sliding up beneath her dress, opening the lacing in one fluid motion. As the dress fell open, revealing her body beneath, Azriel pulled back for a moment, looking down at her with dark, hungry eyes. "You are so beautiful," he breathed, his gaze roaming over her body.
She didn't even have the time to feel self-conscious, not when she was drowning in the waves of desire that shot across their bond from him. Not when her whole body seemingly trembled against his and she kissed him again, opening her mouth to his tongue.
He slipped open the dress and she opened her mouth, halfway ready to tell him how he could get the corset she wore off, but he already opened the lacing. "Why?" he asked her softly, as he saw the red indents left on her body, and she grimaced.
"Claire," she whispered.
She wore corsets usually for support, because her breast could get heavy and painful without the proper support...but she never laced them as tightly as she did when she saw her family. Or her sister. Then she pulled them tight, trying to squash her body to be something…something her family could stomach, something they maybe wouldn't comment on...she always failed.
Azriel hissed softly, his fingers lightly tracing the red marks on her skin. She knew that they looked horrible, and yet he looked...angered? Almost furious. His expression softened as he looked back into her eyes, his fingers gently tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Why would you do something like that to yourself, Sky?" he murmured, his eyes searching hers. "You are beautiful. You don't need to change anything about your body." He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to a particularly hard imprint the corset had left.
Sky swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in her throat as emotion welled up in her chest. No one had ever said something like that to her, had ever made her feel like she was good enough just the way she was. She opened her mouth, trying to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she just nodded, feeling a single tear slip down her cheek. Azriel wiped it away with his thumb, his other hand coming up to cup her face tenderly.
"You are perfect," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Just the way you are. Don't ever let anyone make you feel otherwise. Not even your family." Sky leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and just focusing on the closeness, the warmth, the feeling of being cherished and protected.
With every word he spoke, she felt a weight lifting off her shoulders, her fears and insecurities melting away. She realized that maybe, just maybe, she had found someone who truly saw her, the real her. Who accepted her exactly as she was, flaws and all.
It was so easy to sink into that. So easy to trust him. So easy to just kiss him, as she pushed the shirt he wore over his shoulders...to feel acres of gold skin, dotted with scars and dark markings...to bare him for her view and see how utterly gorgeous her mate was.
He growled softy as she ran her hand down his chest, tracing the scars that marked his skin. His body was a tapestry of pain and survival, yet she wasn't deterred. She only found him more beautiful for it.
"Mine," she whispered, pressing her lips to his chest, to one particularly nasty scar. "All mine." She could feel his heart pounding beneath her lips, the steady beat matching the rhythm of her own heartbeat. Her hands trailed down his chest, his stomach, until she reached the waistband of his trousers.
It was so easy.
So easy, to shed clothing until they were bare...so easy to press against him and feel warm, perfect skin...so easy to relax underneath him as he stretched over her...so easy to simply cup his face as she kissed him...as her legs wrapped around his hips and he groaned and she whimpered as she felt him...hot and hard and huge, pressing against her...She was dripping wet without him even laying as single finger on her beneath the waist.
Azriel didn't look unaffected, his breath coming in ragged pants, his eyes fixed on hers as they were blown wide and dark with want. He didn't move, didn't kiss her, didn't pull her closer. He only waited. Waited for her.
"I need you," she whimpered. "Please. Please, Az." He let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl, his hips rocking gently against her, teasing them both with the heat and friction between them.
Nothing hurt. Nothing ever even threatened to hurt...Even as she could feel him notch against her there...even when she could feel herself lewdly stretched open on his cock...
It was so soft and gentle and sweet and…
It was everything Sky had ever wanted.
Not the rough kind of fucking...not the animalistic coupling she wrote half the time...but she had wanted this. She had wanted sweetness and adoration and...love...and to be wrapped up in her mate's arms like she was a precious, precious thing. She had wanted whispered praised against her skin and to be touched like she mattered...
"Sky," he whispered, his hands running up her side, his touch was soft and soothing, worshipping her body. He kissed her, slowly, deeply, and there was something...almost overwhelming about it.
About the way he made her feel. The way he made her feel loved and adored. The way he made her feel cherished. Her hands wandered up to his back, tracing the muscles shifting beneath scarred, scarred skin.
She could feel him trembling, feel the tension in his body as he held himself back, but still, he moved in slow and gentle thrusts, taking his time. He worshipped her - every little gasp and moan, every curve of her body. He traced her shape with his fingertips and lips, exploring her as though he was trying to memorize every inch of her body.
She didn't know how long they stayed that way, their bodies as one, but Sky didn't care. She was surrounded by him - the heat of his skin, the sound of his breath, the way he whispered her name like a prayer. Sky could feel the love and devotion pouring through the bond, washing over her in waves, and she knew that this was exactly where she was meant to be. With him, in his arms, completely and utterly whole.
It nearly came as a shock as she came.
A breathless moan fell from her lips as her orgasm rushed over her, her body arching as she called out his name. He kissed her through it, murmuring praise against her lips as he held her close, his own release following soon after.
They stayed there for a moment, tangled together, both of them breathless and sated. Azriel's wings slowly wrapped around them, cocooning them in a warm, protective embrace that made Sky feel safe and cherished in a way she had never experienced before.
***
There was not one inch of his mate's body that wasn't utterly beautiful. From the tips of her arched ears, to her beautiful eyes...to the swell of her breasts and the dip of her waist and the soft flesh of her belly and the flare of her hips...she smelled so good too...especially now that their scents had started to mix, and he could breath in caramel and hazelnuts and cedars and the sweet, beautiful scent of happiness as she laid underneath him. His head was bedded on her stomach, as she drew short fingernails through his messy dark hair. He nearly wanted to start to purr as she scratched at his scalp.
Azriel felt...content.
More content than he ever remembered feeling. He was wrapped up in her, his mate, with her gentle hands in his hair, and he felt utterly and completely at peace. He didn't care if they never moved from that bed again. He didn't care if the world outside their little cocoon burned. So long as she was by his side, he was content. He had never felt like this before. He had never felt this...happy. This...whole.
"I need to go feed Hector," Sky told him softly, trailing her fingers through his hair.
"Can I just have the shadows kidnap him and bring him here?" he asked, not wanting to move.
"You can't go kidnapping my cat, Az," she chided him gently, but even as she said the words, she didn't stop drawing her fingers through his hair, and Azriel didn't move. He was far too comfortable.
"Why not?" he complained.
"You'll terrify him," she said with a laugh. "Besides, do you have cat food here?"
"I'll have the shadows find some Tuna," he mumbled.
"Do…Do they just ac…acquire whatever you tell them to?" she asked him with some amusement.
And lots of things he didn't tell them to, as well. They thought he didn’t know.
Azriel raised himself on his forearms, looking down at Sky with a glint in his eye. "You have no idea how many things I've acquired that way," he told her with a grin.
She lifted her hands, cupping his cheeks and pulling him down towards her, resting her forehead against his. "You're a menace," she murmured against his lips.
"Your menace," he replied, kissing her softly.
Sky smiled, a warm, slow curve of her lips that made his chest feel tight. "Mine," she agreed, her voice soft. "But no kidnap…kidnapping my cat. He's at home."
"We could make this our home," he protested softly. "Move in with me."
Azriel had no fucking clue what was even coming over him. They should have slowed down, stopped to think...but neither of them seemed to want to.
They just…they seemed utterly content to crash through what other people considered a normal timeline and just be together right now.
He just wanted to be near her. He wanted to share a life with her, a home. He wanted to curl up with her in front of the fire on a cold winter's night, and spend lazy Sunday mornings in bed with her. He wanted to take her flying, and watch as she wrote and listened to her read the words she wrote.
And he wanted - Gods, he wanted her to want that too. He held his breath as he waited for her response.
For a moment, she was silent, and Azriel wondered if he had stepped too far, asked too much too soon.
But then, Sky smiled again, her eyes sparkling with emotions.
"...Al…Alright," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll…I’ll move in with you."
Azriel couldn't help but grin as he pressed his forehead to hers. "Really? You mean it?" he asked, still unable to believe his ears.
"Really," she echoed with a laugh, before her expression turned serious. "But I…I have one co…condition."
Azriel raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "What is it?"
"If I move in with you..." she began, wrapping her arms around his neck. "All my books need to come to," she told him seriously.
Azriel laughed, leaning back in to kiss her softly. "All your books can come, if that's what you want," he said. "As long as you're here, I don't care what else you bring."
And then the shadows unceremoniously dumped a screeching demon on the bed with them.
Sky let out a surprised yelp as Hector landed next to them with a thud, quickly scrambling away from the cat - and from under Azriel's weight. Azriel, for his part, sprang up, his wings flaring out in alarm. For several long moments, the three of them just stared at each other. Hector, his mismatched eyes glowing, his fur puffed up to twice it’s normal size, and Sky, her expression a mixture of surprise and affection as she looked at her pet. Finally, she cleared her throat. "Well, that's one way to introduce the two of you. Az, meet Hector."
...Gods, the shadows had really not been lying when they said that the cat was the ugliest thing they had ever seen.
Azriel slowly lowered his wings, eyeing the creature that was half-cat and half-demon. "He...looks like he wants to kill me," he said slowly.
Sky laughed, reaching out to scratch Hector's head. "He's just grumpy because he got teleported here so suddenly," she told him. "And he's not used to strangers." Hector's fur slowly flattened, and he began to purr, rubbing his head against Sky's hand. "Besides, he'd never hurt anyone," she added, looking up at Azriel with a smile.
Somehow Azriel highly doubted that.
Sky picked Hector up, cradling the cat in her arms as his purring grew louder. "See? He's not so bad," she told Azriel, moving towards him, and Azriel had to resist the urge to back away. "Hold out your hand, let him sniff you. He just needs to get used to you."
Azriel hesitantly held out his hand, trying his best to ignore the way Hector's eyes seemed to glow with an eerie light. After a moment, Hector moved forward, sniffing at Azriel's hand. Azriel felt the soft brush of whiskers against the palm of his hand, and Hector nudged his head against him, purring louder.
"See, he loves you!" Sky said enthusiastically
Azriel let out a laugh, slowly scratching the top of Hector's head. "I think he's just trying to lull me into a false sense of security before he scratches my eyes out, you know."
She rolled her eyes, "You are the most handsome cat I know," she cooed at him. "And you won't ever scratch out Azriel's eyes. No, you won't.”
Azriel would not quite go as far as describe the cat as handsome...but then...his own scarred hands weren't particularly beautiful either.
So Hector and him had that in common.
And the fact that they both wanted to cuddle with Sky. Actually, he was pretty sure that the cat hated him just for taking away his monopoly on that.
But Azriel would have shared a house with the King of Hybern if that meant that he got to have Sky in his bed.
She smiled at him, her eyes warm and adoring. "I knew you two would hit it off," she said, holding Hector in the crook of her arm. The cat stared at Azriel for a moment, as if sizing him up, before leaping off Sky's lap and disappearing under the bed with a soft patter of paws. "He'll warm up to you eventually," Sky assured him, but Azriel wasn't so sure about that.
He pulled Sky in closer to him, slipping back underneath the sheets with her, kissing her forehead. "I'll win him over, eventually," he promised her. At least, he hoped he would - he didn't particularly enjoy the idea of having to wake up with his throat being sliced open by an angry cat.
He would buy that damn cat all the Tuna in the world if that made Sky happy.
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You never let me in, Buck sends, two of three sheets fully winded, and when he kicks his leg over the coffee table he nearly knocks over three empties.
They do this thing, right? Buck gets upset and before the tears can fall, because he's cried too many fucking times already, he makes himself angry. Picks at something that has come up every time he's done a post-mortem on the last six months.
And then he sends that shit to Tommy. Because - because who the fuck else is he supposed to talk to about it? The guy who'd sucked him off in the hallway of a nightclub two weeks ago? The woman who'd spent an hour quietly helping Buck understand that yeah, he was very much bi, and yeah, some people did not like that shit? Maddie, or Chim, or Hen or Eddie, who still might interact with him on the job? Bobby? Fuck, not Bobby.
Bobby who'd blinked at Buck and offered platitudes and apologized to Buck like it was somehow his fault Tommy was good people but he was the kind of good people who just walked out on something that could have been something.
I should have pushed more. I know I should have. I just thought since I was trying to share everything, you were too.
My mistake.
Three months and Buck isn't over it. He's far enough into the mourning process that he thinks this one is always gonna sting, and not for the reasons Tommy thinks.
That's not fair. I'm sorry.
The texts get delivered. Tommy reads them. Buck's had read receipts on since the first time Tommy went quiet on a call and Buck freaked out a little - but back then they were still working towards something. Back then, sometimes Tommy would pull out his phone and open the thread just to give Buck sign of life.
He was always doing that. Heading shit off at the pass.
Buck had just never realized he'd be able to do it to hurt him, just as well as take care of him.
Every four weeks like clockwork Buck gets a response. He has no fucking idea why it's four weeks, what the third Thursday of the month has to do with Tommy feeling gracious enough to give Buck some clarity. He'd never known enough about Tommy, is the thing he's coming around to. He'd done everything he could to bring Tommy in, make him a part, and Tommy had let him. Tommy had distracted him with quippy words and a clever tongue and with being so fucking willing to be integrated into Buck's life that Buck just - hadn't noticed.
No one will say it, but he Bucked It Up in the worst kind of way.
He's waited until Third Thursday to send these texts. He actually hasn't sent anything at all, until this moment, and he wonders if Tommy noticed. If he cared. Tommy picks and chooses from Buck's random thoughts, parses out details like he's reading from a manual and Buck is off topic two thirds of the time. Buck doesn't actually know why he's been answering, all this time. He wonders if, in the last four weeks of silence, he thought he was finally done with Buck.
He wonders if it had hurt.
Buck sets his phone down to stand, skating across to the kitchen in his socks for the pizza rolls in the oven.
His diet is shit. His body feels like crap. He's one more drunken nights sleep on the couch away from emptying the rack in his fridge down the drain and giving sobriety a try. The last person he'd slept with had hinted that they'd prefer not to use condoms and Buck had almost let them.
Buck has worth. He knows he does. It's just sometimes when he remembers that every person he's ever loved has either walked out on him or let him walk away when he needed them, he struggles to find that worth.
His life has meaning, and all that jazz.
Buck sort of wonders if Tommy hasn't finally blocked his number, as he tosses a too-hot pizza roll in his mouth and huffs on the lava cheese burning his tongue. After the last message Buck had sent, three weeks ago, he wouldn't exactly be surprised.
(This is basically just an unhinged grief journal with an unreliable second narrator. Do you know what it's like to realize you're still in love with someone who never let you know them?)
There's been no response to that. Fair. Buck hadn't even actually said the words. No, he'd jumped right into the sharing a life part, cart before the horse as always when emotions were high.
The pizza rolls get tipped onto a plate and are immediately swimming in the heavy pour of ranch he'd prepared after he set the oven to preheat.
It cools them off a lot quicker than popping a hole in each seam and waiting.
It's been eight years since Buck has really even thought about that little trick.
When he opens his phone there's no response. No receipt. Just stark words waiting to be acknowledged.
I gave you my family, Tommy. You didn't even introduce me to your team at Harbor.
It's startling to realize after the fact. He doubts Tommy had meant it that way, but he'd basically spent six months being love bombed only to have the rug ripped right out from under his feet.
And yet. Months later and he still wants to know. Know why. Know how he could have done it, with tears in his eyes, with full awareness that it was already gonna hurt. Know Tommy - anything he'd part with, really, that wasn't something every random acquaintance also knew.
Cool, he'd been jealous of what Buck and the 118 had. (Buck had tried to give him that. Or at least he thought he had.)
Great, he didn't talk to his dad and Gerrard was a shitty captain. (Buck had spent an hour once explaining the first time he and his dad had spoken about Daniel without screaming at each other. Tommy had listened to the rants about Gerrard and offered physical comfort and a 'sounds like him' and Buck had just been so relieved to have an ally amongst the 'life is just like this sometimes' crowd that he'd never examined that.)
He was a Kinsey six who'd been engaged to the first woman Buck had ever really loved and they'd never dug deeper than that.
And Buck had apparently interpreted some of the shit he'd said that night wrong, but he still doesn't think it's fucking fair that Tommy can't trust him to know his own fucking mind well enough to know he hates sleeping around and he'd found the sort of connection he was looking for. He'd found it. Even with the lack of reciprocation. Even with the quiet behind Tommy's eyes that he'd never let Buck in on. Even with the -
His phone buzzes on the coffee table.
Can we talk?
Buck kinda hates those words in that order now. They'd been the start of something twice, but they'd always been leading to an end, if Tommy had his way.
Once every four weeks, apparently, Buck sends back and takes a vicious bite.
His phone chimes with an incoming call.
Buck stares at the name he hasn't had the stomach to remove the little heart from. Lets it ring through to voicemail and then shoves three more pizza rolls into his mouth and doesn't care if they burn off his taste buds.
His phone rings again.
"What?"
"I'm outside your building. Didn't want to make any assumptions that I'd be welcome without asking first."
Buck can feel his ribs cracking under the lurch of angry laughter. "What the hell?"
"Well the parking around here is miserable again, so I figure that's a sign."
"Are you driving right now?"
"Hands off. I'm on Bluetooth. So. Should I circle the building a fifth time or call it now and go home?"
Buck gets stuck on fifth time.
There's no way he hadn't been driving since at least before Buck sent that first text.
Buck sighs. There's absolutely no reason to be hopeful about that. For all he knows, Tommy has just decided dousing any residual flames is just another thing he has to do in person.
"My Jeep's in the shop. I'll buzz you into the garage."
Tommy's silent for a long, long moment. The quip comes anyway. "I keep telling you that thing is a money pit."
"I'm not really feeling the flirty banter, right now, Tommy, so maybe just let me know when you're at the gate."
He does. He hangs up the phone twenty seconds later with a plain "See you soon."
Buck doesn't have time to change. Fix his hair. Hide the sheet pan with half a dozen pizza rolls still laying on it, because he'd cooked way too many again.
(He could absolutely do one of these things but if Tommy's gonna throw this at him, he's getting every little slovenly habit Bucks's picked up since he walked out that door.)
The knock comes while Buck's shoving the last two rolls on his plate into his mouth.
He's still chewing with his mouth open to blow out the steam when he swings the door open, and Buck feels the first inklings of pleasure ripple through him at the sight of Tommy.
He looks like shit.
"You look like shit."
Tommy's brow ticks up. He stares pointedly at the glob of not-cheese that's going to absolutely ruin this sweatshirt.
"That tends to happen when you spend an hour in an armchair two sizes too small picking at trauma you've been hiding from your therapist for six years."
Buck opens the door wider. Holy crap. Tommy might legitimately be more fucked up than Buck.
Tommy's smile is strained. "Can I come in?"
Buck holds his gaze. His eyes are a little red. He's got a red spot along the side of his neck, like he's been rubbing at it. Buck only recognizes it as a comforting motion because he's replayed him doing it half a million times right before he ended things.
"Depends. Is this the last time you respond to my mean, rude, asshole texts for an hour after therapy rubs you raw?" Third Thursday Therapy, is apparently what does it. Buck is - god. He just wants -
"God, I hope not," Tommy says, and Buck takes a step to the side to let Tommy in.
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Dragonseeds (Pt. 2)
Summary: If any man can claim a dragon, what good is the blood of Old Valyria?
Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon(Cole)!Reader
18+ ONLY MDNI Targcest, smut
Part 1
On the day Y/N Velaryon was born, King Viserys hosted a grand feast in her honor. On her twenty fifth name day, Rhaenyra sends similar gifts to King’s Landing, to feed the smallfolk. News which is ill received by her mother by law, Alicent.
“The King and Queen are missing, rest assured we are doing all we can to locate them, your Grace. Still someone must rule in their stead.” Ser Criston suggests, “a regent to guide us through their safe return.”
“A wise thought.” Alicent nods, “might I suggest myself?”
The members of the small council can hardly answer the dismissal of Rhaenyra’s claim by raising up a woman of their own.
The councilmen are inclined to believe they must first search of evidence of foul play. Though Ser Otto is not convinced. Pulling his daughter aside to scold her.
“These are the very same children who made themselves easy on the morning of her brother’s petition as heir of Driftmark. They are insolent and foolish but they do hold one thing dear and that is the other, and their children. They cannot see beyond their own desires.”
“You wished for Aegon to be king.” Alicent murmurs, “I’ve made him king.”
“I take full responsibility for my part in this, daughter.” Otto sighs, “knowing what I do now, it should have been Aemond upon the throne. He is closer in age to Rhaenyra’s daughter, he would not have been so pliable beneath her unyielding hands.”
“You could not have known for certain.”
“Everyone knew.” Otto admits. “To have Y/N is to have Aegon. He bends the knee to her and her whims because he…” loves her.
“Aemond might’ve fallen prey to her charms all the same. Y/N is not cold, calculated or cunning. She is only a girl, desperate to win her mother’s affection by any means necessary.” Alicent knows the role well.
“I want my mother.” Y/N pleaded with her midwives during her first labors.
Alicent developed a quiet fondness for her daughter by law in those days, more than she cares to admit.
————————————————————————
Princess Y/N and Prince Aegon are made comfortable upon their arrival, accepted with open arms by their Queen and left to their own devices.
Y/N and Aegon know little entertainment besides court…and the familiar comfort of the other. Without meetings to attend and their children still abed, they have no choice but to indulge.
Aegon finds his face between her thighs, drawn in like a moth to flame. Gods, how he loves her. Spelling it out over her pearl time and time again.
“Fuck,” Y/N cries, rolling her hips up to meet him.
Aegon’s hands encircle them, wide and full to bear his children. She finds her peak against his tongue, thighs clenched taut around his head.
They scarcely notice the door of their apartments creaking open until Rhaenyra is in their bed chamber. “Oh!” The woman shields her eyes.
“Mother,” Y/N gasps. Pulling the coverlet up to her chin.
“Forgive me. I thought you might be alone.” Aegon had been given his own chambers.
Aegon moves up toward the pillows, popping his head out from beneath the covers. “Did you need something?”
Rhaenyra huffs, “I need my daughter and heir, yes. We’ve much to discuss.”
“Of course, mother.” Y/N nods, “give me a moment to make myself decent and I will meet you in your rooms?”
Rhaenyra nods, before rushing out to the safety of the nearest corridor.
“That ought to keep her from barging in unannounced.” Aegon muses, brushing sweat damp hair from his wife’s face.
“You find it funny that my mother now knows of our…intimacies?” Y/N snaps.
Aegon chuckles, “I’m afraid she has known, darling girl.” He passes a hand over the swell of her belly. “Everyone knows, I fear.”
Y/N groans, burying her face in her hands.
“Do not despair, my dearest love.” Aegon murmurs, “you have laid your line of succession strong enough that no man may question it.”
Y/N nods, as his forehead rests against her temple.
“At all of five and twenty, you have provided the crown with nearly six heirs.” Aegon reminds her, “you have performed your duty. There is no shame in it.”
“When I was a girl, I thought we’d fly away on dragon back.” Y/N whispers, tracing the lines of his face with her finger.
Aegon smiles, “and where would we go?”
“Away on a ship somewhere, to live off the sea. We’d spend the rest of our days singing sea shanties, eating only cake…and fish, of course.”
Aegon chuckles, “of course.”
“We’d be free of all this.”
“We will never be free of this.” He understands better now, what it meant each time she took his body in her own to create life. The way they unknowingly sealed their fate with each kiss.
“Do you wish to be, husband?”
“I wish for your happiness and that of our children. The rest matters little and less.”
“You matter to me a great deal.”
————————————————————————-
“In your absence, Jacaerys and I have set down a difficult path…where it seems we now differ in opinion.” Rhaenyra informs her daughter. “As my successor, I must now raise the matter with you.”
“Of course.” Y/N nods.
“To stand against Vhagar, even with Sunfyre and Stormborn now amongst our ranks, we will need more dragon riders.”
“Our children are very young, their dragons still wet from the egg. It may be a decade or more before they take to wing.”
“You agree then, something else must be done about our numbers?” Rhaenyra asks.
Jace shakes his head, clenching his hands into fists.
“What do you propose?” Y/N wonders.
“There are many in our line who’ve…ventured outside their marriage bed. Those children have lived largely in the shadows, but they share the blood of the dragon.” Rhaenyra continues, choosing her words carefully.
“Surely there are those from our line who married into other noble houses-”
“We have lost Ser Stephen to such a venture. I fear the blood may be too thin.” Rhaenyra laments, toying with her rings.
“You disagree, Jacaerys?”
“When one of those baseborn, silver haired, dragon riders decide they want to rule the seven kingdoms, where does that leave you?” Jace turns to his sister. “They will leave you clinging to Aegon again, in hopes of becoming Queen. Even then they may question your claim.”
“I appreciate your concerns, you are ever vigilant.” Y/N takes his hand in hers, “I appreciate it more than you will ever know.”
“Of course.”
“I ask you now, brother, what other choice we have?”
“Together with Sunfyre, Vermax, Stormborn and Syrax do you not believe we stand a chance against Vhagar?”
“A chance, yes.” Y/N agrees, “but to put the people I hold most dear in danger for a chance? I can do no such thing in good conscience.”
“You are putting your claim in danger, perhaps your very life. Are you so blind you cannot see it?” Jace snaps.
“Better my claim be lost than any of you.” Y/N says, pointedly. “I want to be Queen. I have wanted it from the time I was a child and it was impressed upon me to want. Clinging to it like some prized possession. I married for it, birthed children for it. I was left behind in King’s Landing when I was no more than a child, to hold my place in our grandsire’s court while the rest of my family abandoned me for Dragonstone. I have given all that I am or ever hoped to be to hold this claim. Still I will choose any of you over a crown.”
“You should never have had to do that.” Jacaerys reminds her.
Rhaenyra runs a hand over her own face. “I did not mean for you to feel abandoned.”
“I know that, mother, and I do not fault you for it.” Y/N assures her, “you do what you must to protect-”
“Cole promised he would care for you, I should never have trusted him. I should have taken you with me, as I wanted. You wrote to me often enough that I forced myself to believe you were happy.”
“Cole did care for me, as best he could.” Y/N assures her, “I only meant…”
“You meant what you said.” Rhaenyra understands, “and rightfully so. I have made many mistakes in this life, most regrettably, with you. They have cost you more than even I understood, until now. Leaving you was the hardest thing I have had to do in all my years. I am sorry for it.”
“Mother, I do not fault you for decisions you made to protect me. You did the best you could.”
“I did not do enough, it seems.” Rhaenyra pats her cheek. “All the more reason I must do what I can for you now.”
“If you believe this is the way, then I will help you see it through.” Y/N decides, “tell me what I must do.”
“Nothing yet, the Lady Mysaria has already sent word to King’s Landing.”
————————————————————————-
When they are excused by the Queen, Jace makes haste towards his quarters.
“Jace,” Y/N calls. “Jacaerys!” She says a bit louder the second time to be sure he’s heard her.
“I wish for a moment alone.”
Y/N closes the distance between them. “I do not pretend to know what has happened here in my absence. But what I will tell you is that when Aegon and I first wed, he would not lie with me. After seeing Helaena birth her twins, he could hardly stomach it. He waited and waited.” Y/N confesses, “I too was frightened of the birthing bed.”
“You were a child.” Jace reminds her, “you’d every right to be.”
“When I turned ten and six Otto Hightower began discussing his fear that I might be barren, with Alicent. This was kept hush, but the whispers trickle down, they always do.” Y/N swallows. “In noble families requiring an heir, it is not uncommon to receive…assistance. They wanted to bring in one of the serving girls for Aegon, if I could not conceive. But before that though, I’d be expected to lie with another in our line.”
Jacaerys can only gawk at her. “And did you?”
“No,” Y/N assures him. “But had I not conceived, it would have been expected of me.”
“With whom?”
“Aemond is my husband’s closest blood.” Y/N averts her eyes, “they knew he could sire children.”
“Did mother know?” Jace demands.
“Everyone knew, Jacaerys.” Y/N huffs, “she was prepared to fight for me, as she always has. But I do not care to admit the number of times I’ve envied you…simply for being born a son. We cannot fault our mother for doing what she must, she is choosing between the lesser of two rotten choices.”
“I could not have done the things you have, I wish more than anything that you did not have to do them. But you are just, in your morals and your mercy. So if you believe this is the way, I stand proudly at your side.” Jace assures her. It never mattered to either of them that different men’s blood courses through their veins. Being the eldest, they are the only ones to ever know. Even sweet Lucerys had no inkling.
“Thank you, brother.”
Taglist: @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @kamcrazy123 @barnes70stark
#house of the dragon#aegon targaryen x you#aegon targaryen x reader#hotd smut#aegon targaryen#hotd aegon#aegon targaryen smut#aegon smut#aegon ii#aegon imagine
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Loving a Killer: Mistakes in a Hardware Store
Pairing: Killer!Harry x wife!reader
Masterlist: Here
CW: Harry is a tad bit over protective in this, threats of violence, semi angsty bits, language.
A/N: Harry had done something wrong and shockingly enough it has nothing to do with what he does for a living, so enjoy him trying to get you to forgive him✨
“Looking at it every five seconds isn’t going to make it magically start ringing you know that right?” Harry just ignores Mitch’s comment as he looks at his phone for the sixth time in the last five minutes, letting out a sigh when he all he’s met with is the date and time on his Lock Screen, no message from you or your name flashing across it like it normally does when you call him. “Trouble in paradise?” Mitch asks as he looks over and watches Harry run a hand through his hair as he tosses his phone onto his desk.
“She’s not talking to me.” Is all he says before he stands up and begins pacing the length of his desk while Mitch spins his chair around so his back is facing his own desk allowing him to watch his bestfriend have what he could only describe as a breakdown of some sort due to not having heard from you all day. Harry pauses and runs a hand over his face then just looks at Mitch over his shoulder. “I think she’s mad-”
“What did you do?” Harry lets out a groan as he walks over to his desk and places his hands flat on top of it and Mitch raises a brow at him when he notices him look down and close his eyes while letting out a deep sigh. “Harry tell me you didn’t-”
“You’ve got to stop assuming I’m walking around killing people without telling you.” Harry jokes as he lifts his head to send Mitch a glare. “I didn’t even really put my hands on anyone this time.” He explains making his friend just roll his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Then what exactly did you do?”
“She went with me to get some stuff so I can fix the shed door in the backyard and while we were at the hardware store some dude came up to her and started chatting her up so I might’ve threatened him a little.”
“You’re such a hot head man you need to relax and realize your wife is a catch so dudes are going to want to try to flirt with her.”
“What the hell did you just say?” Mitch doesn’t even flinch at how harsh Harry’s tone is as he straightens himself up and takes a step towards him with a quirked brow, Mitch is extremely familiar to this side of his bestfriend. “I’m just supposed to let people flirt with her and think they have some sort of shot with her?”
“They’ll know they don’t have a shot with her because she’ll let them know. She doesn’t need you to do it.” Mitch casually explains as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world but Harry just lets out a scoff and throws his hands up in air, clearly annoyed at the idea of having his wife be the one to tell creeps to leave her alone.
“She shouldn’t have to worry about telling wanks who want to chat her up to fuck off.” He snaps while he walks back over to his desk to reach for his phone. “I’m her husband it’s my job to do that for her.” Mitch rolls his eyes at his explanation as he watches Harry tap away on his phone.
“No it’s your job to trust her and let her handle herself in situations like that.” Harry can’t help but feel his heart sink as Mitch’s words hit him, he knows he can be a tad bit overprotective when it comes to you and that often leads to him overreacting in certain situations but he’s never thought about how him reacting the way that he does could make you feel as if he doesn’t trust you or think you can’t handle yourself.
“I do trust her.” Mitch just nods as he uncrosses his arms so he can stand up from his chair. “I just-you know how I am with her.” He says with a sigh as Mitch takes a step towards him so he can place a hand on his shoulder.
“I know how you are with her and I know it’s because you love her but sometimes it’s a little much. But the real question is how are you gonna fix this?” Mitch asks as he gives Harry’s shoulder a squeeze before letting it go. “I hear flowers work wonders.” He suggests making Harry send him a glare making Mitch chuckle because sometimes it’s glaringly obvious how single Mitch is compared to Harry.
“Already had a bouquet delivered to her office this morning since she only works a half day today.” He mumbles and Mitch just gives him a nod of approval as he watches Harry tap a few things on his phone before he locks it and slides into his back pocket. “I have to go. You good to handle the rest of the day without me?” Harry questions making Mitch just brush him off as he turns to head back towards his desk.
“Yeah I’m fine we have that Gavin guy tomorrow and today is just paperwork.” Harry just nods at Mitch’s answer before he gathers his keys and tosses his work bag over his shoulder. “Good luck.” Mitch says with a smile as Harry gives him one more glance before turning and heading out their shared office door and down the hallway for the door that opens to the stairs leading up to the lobby of the building the two of them work at.
Harry hates the feeling he gets when he walks inside the front door, he’s not met with the usual warmth that always radiates off of you and seeps into his body and relaxes him as it makes its way from his tired feet all the way up to his sore shoulders. Today he’s met with silence and the utter coldness that comes with it and it’s almost enough to send a shiver down his spine, but the only thing that keeps him from turning around and leaving is that he knows you’re home because he parked next to your car in the driveway and he is willing to do anything get your warmth back into the house.
He knows where you’re at, it’s just something that he can’t help with what he does for a living he knows how to keep track of people when they’re in relatively close proximity to him. So as soon as he walked in the front door he could see your foot hanging off the love seat tucked away in the corner of the living room near the bookshelf next to the floor lamp that you opted to turn on instead of the main light. He acts as if he didn’t see you as he drops his keys in the bowl by the door and slips his shoes off before he makes his way into the kitchen where he places his work bag on the table, he can feel your eyes on him from the living room and he takes that as a decent sign that you’re even wanting to look at him.
He runs a hand through his hair as he contemplates his next move, he knows you don’t like confrontation so you won’t be the one to tell him you’re mad at him so if he wants this to get resolved in a timely manner he’s going to need to be the one to initiate the conversation but he’s just not in a hurry to hear you say you’re upset with him. So Harry does what he thinks is the best thing to do in the moment because he knows you, he knows what you really need from him in this moment and he’s more than willing to give it to you if it spares him, at least for a few minutes from having to hear you tell him how unhappy he made you the other day. He turns around and quietly heads into the living room, he watches as you close the book he knows you stopped reading the moment he walked through the front door and place it on the side table near the lamp. As soon as he’s in front of you he reaches down and grabs your hands as he drops to his knees, he looks at you as he brings your hands to his lips and places sweet kisses to your knuckles and he doesn’t miss the slight shade of pink your cheeks get at his actions.
“I’m sorry baby.” He makes sure his words come out nice and clear so you don’t miss them between little pecks to your knuckles. “I know I made you upset yesterday and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have threatened him or-”
“We’ve had this conversation before haven’t we Harry?” You ask making Harry just swallow before nodding his head and he swears he feels his heart drop to his stomach when you turn and look away from him. “I know you want to protect me from all the creeps and jerks but Harry yesterday you-”
“Don’t say it.” He cuts you off as he lets your hands slip out of his as he stands up. “Please don’t say it.” His voice is low as he takes a small step away from you as he feels as if his world might be crumbling down around him as the thought of you telling him you were afraid of him bounces around in his head.
“Harry look at me.” He can’t help himself as he does what you ask because even though his whole world may feel like it’s on the verge of falling apart he’s still your husband, the man who hasn’t ever really been able to not do whatever it is you ask of him. “I’m not afraid of you.” He feels your hands on his arms slowly running up until they are cupping the sides of his face making sure he can’t look away from you. Your words take a moment to sink in through the layers of sheer panic and anxiety running through his mind but when they finally do Harry lets out a deep breath and feels as if his legs could give out at any moment with the amount of relief that washes over him.
“I was going to say that in that moment you were being one of the jerks you try to protect me from all the time.” All Harry can do is just nod because you’re right, he was being exactly the type of person he tries to keep you away from and honestly Harry is still recovering from the fact you admitted you aren’t afraid of him so a nod is the best he can do in the moment. “You threatened someone’s life all because he was asking me if I had any recommendations for a good weather resistant wood varnish.” When Harry rolls his eyes he instantly knows it’s a mistake because he feels your hands drop from his face making his lips turn downward into a slight frown while you take a few steps away from him.
“I’m sorry sweetheart but that was clearly a line and he was trying to flirt-”
“So him flirting with me means you need to come in and grab him by his shirt and tell him that if he so much as looks at me again the next project you’ll be working on will be his coffin?” Harry can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve raised your voice since he’s met you, each time has almost always been towards him and he hates that he’s the one who gets you to the point where you lose your ability to speak in your usual soft and gentle tone and are left with no choice but to make your voice louder and a little meaner in hopes it’ll help get your point across more clearly.
“I didn’t mean to grab him. That was a mistake.” He doesn’t make an attempt to get closer to you even though every part of him wants to reach out and pull you into him, he wants to give you the space you need to tell him exactly how his actions made you feel and he knows you won’t be able to do that if he crowds you. And as much as he normally loves to play dirty and use his knowledge against you, this time he wants you to get everything out because he wants to be better for you so if he has to stand here and take it for a few more minutes then so be it.
“Was that the only mistake you made yesterday?” He wants to say he really didn’t make any mistakes yesterday but he doesn’t, he just rubs his lips together as you place a hand on your hip letting him in on the fact you’re getting annoyed at this conversation.
“Please just answer me because I don’t want to argue with you anymore but I need to know if you really think that’s the only mistake you made yesterday.” Harry can tell by the slight pleading tone of your voice that you’re beginning to break, your walls of anger are starting to crumble and he can’t help himself but feel a small sense of relief because he can work with this, he can find a way to make your walls come down and get you to forgive him.
“No.” He answers as he takes a small cautious step towards you making you raise an eyebrow at him as a signal to have him elaborate on his answer. “I shouldn’t have threatened him or raised my voice in the store because I know how you feel about causing scenes in public.” He adds as he takes another small step towards you and he can’t help the small smirk that forms on his face when he sees your hand drop from your hip as you playfully roll your eyes at the mention of causing a scene.
“Anything else?” Your voice is much softer now and Harry feels like this is a good time to take a chance so he reaches an arm out so he can place a hand on your hip and he smiles when you don’t make any moves to wiggle out of his grasp or bring your own hand down to push his away.
“Letting you give me the silent treatment for the rest of the day. That’s probably the biggest mistake I made because you know how much I love hearing you talk.” Now normally you’d take that as a tease of some sort but Harry’s not an idiot, or at least not in this moment so he’s sure to sound as serious as possible without ruining the lighthearted mood that’s beginning to form between the two of you.
“You love hearing me talk?” Harry just gives you a smile as he ever so gently pulls you closer to him by his hold on your hip.
“Your voice is one of my favorite sounds.” He admits without a single drop of hesitation because it’s the truth. “Especially right before you fall asleep and it’s this mixture of a whisper and just mumbles of nonsense.” His eyes stare into yours as he raises his free hand so he can brush a few strands of hair out of your face and back behind your ear. “But my favorite is when it’s got this hint of excitement to it like when you’re telling me about a new book you found that you’re now obsessed with or better yet the rants you go on about books you hate those are very fun and your voice gets this almost twinge of absolute disgust to it that I always find entertaining because it’s so rare you find something you don’t like.” He keeps his hand on the side of your face cupping your jaw, gently running his thumb over your cheek.
“So really baby it about killed me not getting to hear your voice for a whole day all because I was an asshole and couldn’t handle some guy flirting with you in a Home Depot.” He wants to pull your face towards his and seal his words with a kiss but he doesn’t, he’s a gentleman after all and knows it’s only right to let you decide when he’s earned his kissing privileges back sees as you just broke the day long silent treatment you were giving him not even five minutes ago.
“His name was Brad.” Harry’s grip on your hip tightens a little while he other hand falls from your face as you give him an unwanted detail of your encounter yesterday. “Maybe if you knew that before you went all crazy on him you would’ve reconsidered? Because who’s going to pick some dude named Brad over their hot husband named Harry?” He just chuckles as you give him a playful smirk while reaching your hands up to grab both sides of his face.
“Well when you put it like that.” He jokes as he feels you begin to pull his face down towards yours. “I really am sorry sweetheart I swear it won’t happen again.” He whispers as he bumps the tip of his nose into yours making you smile.
“I know you are and that’s why I forgive you.” That’s all Harry needs to hear before he allows himself to close the gap between his lips and yours, he feels you smile against his lips as you pull him even closer to you when you feel him try to pull away.
“I love you.” He mumbles between kisses making you giggle as your hands go from his face down to his chest so you can grip onto his shirt while his hand holds onto the back of your neck.
In this moment Harry knows that the two of you are going to be okay, that while you may hate how he over reacts and gets a little too protective at times, you still love him and haven’t decided to give up on him or at least not yet. So Harry decides right then and there that he’s going to actually try to be better, but while he really will try he can’t promise he won’t mess up every now and then because he’s still Harry, and when it comes to you he doesn’t think he’ll ever be okay with people getting too close or being too friendly.
#loving a killer series#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles series#harry styles au#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry styles blurb#harry styles drabble#harry styles fanfic#killer!Harry x wife!reader#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#dark!harry#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles#my little lanky baby#mitch rowland#one direction fanfiction
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prettyspeak | percy jackson
ღ percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite! reader ღ warnings: a minor injury! ღ wc: 698
“Wait –I want to try something!” The words from her boyfriend, who was running after her, caught her off guard, making her nearly stumble to the ground.
It wasn’t that she had a problem with it –trying new things was great, in her opinion.
Just... maybe not while they were on a mission.
Alone.
Unarmed.
Being chased by a monster.
“Percy, shut up and keep running!” Without looking back, she darted to the right and kept running, inwardly blaming him for getting her into this situation.
She could be at her cabin, chatting with Silena, Clarisse –please, even Drew would be a better option than this.
‘There won’t be any monsters, we’ll just go pick up–’ MY ASS, tell that to the five-foot beast chasing us.
She found a rock just big enough to shield her and hid behind it, praying the monster wasn’t on her heels. Percy was probably handling it, and soon they’d be able to get back to camp–
“Hi, baby”
“Hi, my love- Perseus!” The boy’s body dropped beside her, sending her a smile as a powerful roar reverberated around them. “You said no monsters!”
She looked at him, noticing how he clutched his side and shot her a look. Not just any look –the look he gave when he needed something.
“What?” she asked, frightened; Percy wasn’t exactly known for his brilliant ideas.
“I need you to tell the monster to go after you! Use you prettyspeak or whatever.”
“What?!”
He covered her mouth with his unbloodied hand, silencing her. She quickly pulled his hand away from her face with her own and placed her other hand on his wound, applying pressure, though she didn’t think it was anything serious.
“Hold on! No! The whole reason I’m here is to convince–”
“I know, I know. But right now, your job is to convince that creature,” he gestured toward the beast nearby, “to follow you.”
He smiled and she was about to laugh, thinking it was a joke. Every fiber of her being told her to say no, to run off and leave him there.
But she knew she could trust him, she could put her heart in his hands and it would be completely fine: so with a sigh, the foolishly-in-love part of her gave in.
"I love you too much." She leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.
She stood up in fear, face-to-face with the monster. She had no idea what it was; she’d never seen anything like it. But it was tall, huge, and its mouth was wide open, full of fangs. She would have closed her eyes to pray if she weren’t too scared to look away.
"Come here!" And then it started running toward her, roaring loudly. The sound was like a thousand wails.
She looked at Percy, hoping he would do something. She saw him with his eyes closed and one hand on the ground.
Great, he was sacrificing me. What a way to get rid of your girlfriend, idiot. I hope he doesn’t find another cute girlfriend.
But when the monster lunged at her and she closed her eyes, she didn’t feel anything. She kept them shut until she felt something near her face; when she opened them, a wall of water separated her from what seemed to be the remnants of the monster.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around, screaming, raising her hand to strike whatever was there –which probably was another monster and would end up getting her killed.
To her surprise, she found herself facing her boyfriend, who was looking at her proudly.
"Wow."
Feeling confident out of nowhere, she brushed her hair back and smiled at him, still trembling a little. "I know, I can be pretty badass-"
"I didn’t know I could do that!" He lunged forward, hugging her tightly and kissing her hair. And as sweet as the gesture was, she was already thinking of a thousand ways to kill him.
She pulled away and looked at him seriously, making Percy look at her, clearly scared and aware that she was mad. "Take me back to camp." She said threateningly. "Now!"
"Okay, dictator.” He quickly grabbed his backpack and started walking toward where they had left Blackjack, his hand holding hers. "I hate it when you use the prettyspeak on me."
"I didn’t."
hii! i hate everything i've been writing :( i've had the worst week in my like i swear AND OMG IT'S NOT EVEN THURSDAY!
#percy jackson x you#percy jackon and the olympians#fanfic#pjo x reader#percy jackson x y/n#percy jackson#percy jackson x reader#my writing#percy jackson imagines
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from this ask | fat fem! reader | asshole oc for story purposes
simon riley really did live up to his nickname ghost with the way he followed you from place to place and any obstacles didn't matter to him, not when it came to know if you were safe or not.
he knew your schedule like his own and after years of being together it was just natural and simon couldn't just give up on the notion that you weren't his wife anymore so that's why he calls you everyday.
it could be about the weather, if things around your apartment need to be fixed, or if any men are hitting on you at your job because the idea of you moving on makes him sick to his stomach with dreadful pain.
but the first thing he always asks is are you okay love? because he wants to know if you are doing alright, perhaps without him and it seems that you're struggling with it all as well.
so when you ask simon to crash your date when you're halfway through dinner because he keeps making odd comments that put you on edge the moment you two sat down from each other there was no way he wouldn't help you.
your date was polite at first but something in your gut was warning you to text simon a simple word. red. he knew what it would mean.
"i'll be right back, i just need to freshen up." you murmured with a fake smile as you grabbed your purse and stood up knowing that if you were to be honest he could flip out and do something crazy.
your date nodded looking you up and down with a slight lip curl. "you could've dressed better and sprayed more perfume." his words were said so nonchalantly like they couldn't hurt a person's feelings.
you couldn't get away from his faster.
once in the bathroom you leaned against the wall pulling up simon's contact, the picture was of him and the cat you had custody of, princess q-tip who you had to beg him to do it but gave in quickly.
white with blue eyes and spoiled since you weren't too sure on having kids with his job, while you would love to have a baby with him it was the practical thing to do right now.
instead of texting you called him.
hearing simon's rough voice made the hair on the back of your neck stand. "hello? everthing ollright love?" the use of your nickname had your mouth going dry knowing you only had so much time.
"i'm on a date and its in the red, if you're busy i know i can always call the guys too and one of them can save me." your words tumbled out in a rush you were nervous he didn't hear and you'd have to repeat it.
in the background you heard the television click off and simon grunt as he stood up to get dressed. "send me your location." he hung up giving you some time to prepare yourself before going back out.
when you came back your date was flirting with the waitress, his eyes undressing her as she stood there until she finally saw you and smiled awkwardly before leaving you two alone.
"don't worry about her, your rack is a lot bigger." he told you with a wink and tipped his beer back all but chugging the thing as you watched with a slack jaw, you weren't offended when insults came from people who were clearly miserable with themselves.
the moment you leaned down to grab your water cup to splash him with it you smelt him before you felt his hand on your hip giving it a squeeze as he towered over the table casting a shadow over it.
his intense gaze cut through the air like sharp daggers intimidating the man who looked up at your ex-husband who pulled on his mask for old time-sake. "she's coming home with me." simon told him.
there was no arguing from your date which only made you laugh mentally as simon guided you away from the table and prying eyes, his lips brushing against your ear. "you deserve a lot better than that."
his words were laced with a profound sense of sadness and his sentence had a double meaning. "thank you for saving me, i don't think i'm going to date for a while after all that." you murmured and let him walk you to his car and open the door as usual.
almost like you were both on autopilot.
simon listened as you told him about your date and you both laughed and joked about everything which was really what you needed and then when the porch light flicked on as simon pulled his car up into the driveway he knew he shouldn't ask but did so anyway.
"can i come in for a nightcap?" he asked turning to look at you before tugging his mask off, it was a rare sight that he never let anyone see.
without saying anything you leaned over and kissed his scarred cheek. "of course, i'll make your favorite." you told him with a grin feeling your heart ache at being so close to him again.
#honeywrites#simon x reader#call of duty x reader#call of duty#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost x y/n#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x y/n
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—SOLACE
Summary: Your life with your boyfriend goes into the next level.
Tags: Established Relationship, Female Reader, Fluff, Romance, Angst
Words: 8,9k
MDNI IT CONTAINS NSFW ELEMENTS
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
“Guess who.” A familiar, teasing voice whispers close to your ear, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. The words are followed by a warm body pressing into your back, enveloping you in an embrace. Gentle hands cover your eyes, playfully robbing you of your vision as you stand at the counter, finishing the last touches on dinner.
You can already smell the distinct, savory aroma of Sebastian’s favorite meal wafting through the kitchen—a hint of garlic, herbs, and roasted flavors blending into a comforting scent. The anticipation hangs in the air, the food waiting to be served, but now there’s something much more important occupying your attention.
“Hm, perhaps my wonderful boyfriend?” you hum back, leaning into the touch and making no attempt to pull away. There’s a soft giggle from behind you, the kind that melts away any lingering stress from the day. It’s a sound you’ve come to love, filled with genuine affection and a trace of mischief. His hands slide slowly from your eyes, drifting down to rest on your hips. You can feel the way his fingers trace small, lazy circles through the fabric of your clothes, a comforting and familiar touch that sends warmth spreading through your chest. He’s not in a rush, savoring the contact as he pulls you a little closer.
“Right on the first try, good job,” Sebastian murmurs against your ear, his voice low and playful. You can feel his breath ghosting over your skin, and the way he tilts his head, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His hair brushes against your cheek as he lingers there, pressing a gentle kiss just below your ear.
You’d never expected to find yourself in a relationship like this, one that seemed ripped straight from the pages of a corny romance novel or, as you and Sebastian liked to joke, a scene from a Korean drama. It had all started so randomly, in a way that neither of you could have planned even if you tried.
It was a late summer evening, the kind where the air still clung with warmth from the day, and the sky painted itself in deep shades of purple and pink. You were making your way home after a night out with friends, the alcohol buzzing pleasantly in your veins. The streets were filled with the sounds of distant laughter and cars passing by, but all you could think about was how much your feet hurt and how desperately you needed an Uber to take you home. You fumbled with your phone, trying to order a ride while your vision swam a little from the drinks.
At the same time, nearby, Sebastian was also looking to get home. He’d spent the evening crammed into a quiet coffee shop, buried under textbooks and highlighters, his study session running longer than he’d planned. By the time he packed up and stepped outside, the sky was already dark, and he sighed, knowing the buses had stopped running. He pulled out his phone, searching for a ride back.
Unbeknownst to you both, fate—or maybe just the Uber app—decided to pull you together that night. The two of you ended up standing at the same corner, eyes glued to the little car icon on your screens as it approached. When you noticed him, you raised an eyebrow, confusion muddling your half-drunken state.
“Uh, are you waiting for this one too?” You asked, swaying slightly on your feet. The alcohol made everything a bit fuzzy, your usual filter dulled by the night’s drinks.
Sebastian looked at you, equally confused, but then a smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, I am… seems like we ordered the same ride.”
You blinked, staring at him as if you were processing the situation in slow motion. Then, without much thought, you shrugged. “Well, there’s room for two. You wanna share?”
He chuckled softly, nodding. “Sure, why not? Looks like the universe wanted us to meet tonight.”
You slid into the backseat together, and as the car started moving, you leaned back, letting out a content sigh. The city lights blurred by outside the window, casting a soft glow on Sebastian’s face. He looked relaxed, his hair slightly messy from running his hand through it too many times while studying. You, on the other hand, felt talkative and loose-lipped from the drinks you’d had earlier. Before you knew it, you were rambling about anything and everything—your favorite movies, a funny story from the night out, even some existential musings on the universe that made him stifle a laugh.
“You’re really something.” He said, amused. His eyes sparkled with a kind of genuine interest that you weren’t used to seeing in strangers.
“I’m not something,” you replied, dramatic and slurring your words a bit. “I’m everything.” You pointed at him with a sloppy grin. “And so are you. We’re all stardust, you know?”
Sebastian gave a playful sigh, shaking his head. “Yeah, stardust… sure.” But there was something about the way you spoke, the unabashed honesty in your drunken state, that made an impression on him. You were a mess, but a charming mess, and it was enough to spark something in him.
When the car finally pulled up in front of his place, you were half-asleep, your head lolling to the side. He glanced at you, contemplating whether to wake you or let you rest. In the end, he gently nudged your shoulder. “Hey, this is where I get off. You alright?”
You blinked awake, rubbing your eyes like a sleepy child. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, even though you clearly weren’t. Before he could say anything more, you leaned closer, squinting at him. “You have really nice eyes, did you know that?”
He laughed softly, cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “You’re definitely not going home like this.”
You didn’t remember much after that. The next thing you knew, you were waking up in an unfamiliar bed, the sunlight streaming in through pale curtains. Your head throbbed, the telltale sign of a hangover, and as you blinked the sleep from your eyes, you realized you were fully dressed, shoes neatly placed by the door. There was a folded note on the bedside table, written in neat, slanted handwriting.
Good morning! You looked too tired (and drunk) to make it home safely, so I brought you here. Don’t worry, you were a perfect angel. There’s water and aspirin on the nightstand. I’ll be back soon with breakfast—Sebastian.
You couldn’t help but smile at the sweetness of the note, even through the pounding in your head. It felt like a scene straight out of a drama—the handsome stranger, the shared ride, the note left behind. When Sebastian returned with a coffee and a bag of pastries, you were sitting up, still clutching the note.
“You’re awake,” he said, smiling as he stepped inside. “Feeling alright?”
You gave him a look, holding up the note like a piece of evidence. “Alright and not drunk, you're really a gentleman for leaving a note.“
He laughed, setting the coffee down in front of you. “What can I say? I aim to impress.”
From that morning on, it became a running joke between the two of you, how you met in such a cliché way. But as weeks turned into months, the jokes turned into real feelings. What started as a funny story to tell your friends became the foundation of something genuine. And now, here you were, dating Sebastian—the boy who shared an Uber with a tipsy, rambling stranger and decided to keep them around.
“Spacing out again?” Sebastian’s voice pulls you back into the present, his nose brushing against your ear as he nudges you gently. He’s still holding you close, his hands tracing idle patterns along your hips, almost as if he can’t bear to let you go just yet. You hadn’t realized how long you’d been standing there, lost in your thoughts and the warmth of his embrace.
“Hmm, maybe.” You reply, leaning back into him with a soft smile. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”
He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your back, and you feel the way his chest rises and falls as he breathes. “Lucky, huh? I was about to say the same thing.”
He presses a kiss to your temple before finally releasing you, letting his hands slide away reluctantly. You turn to face him, catching the playful glint in his eyes as he takes in the sight of you, still standing by the stove with a dreamy look on your face.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” you say, gesturing toward the simmering pots on the stove. “But if you keep distracting me like that, we’re going to end up with burnt food.”
“Oh no, we can’t let that happen,” he teases, raising his hands in mock surrender. “After all, it’s my favorite. I’ve been thinking about this all day.”
You roll your eyes fondly and turn back to stir the pot, feeling Sebastian’s presence lingering close by. He watches you for a moment, then reaches around you to grab a spoon, sneaking a taste of the sauce simmering in front of you. He hums appreciatively, savoring the flavor.
“Mmm, perfect.” he says with a satisfied smile. “But it needs one more thing.”
Before you can ask what, he’s leaning in again, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, soft and sweet. It’s barely a peck, but it sends a shiver down your spine nonetheless. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you as you swat at him playfully.
“Sebastian!” you scold lightly, trying to hide your smile. “You’re impossible.”
He grins, unrepentant. “Impossible? Or irresistibly charming?”
“A little of both,” you admit, shaking your head as you reach for the plates. “Alright, Mr. Charming, if you’re going to be here, at least help me set the table.”
Sebastian nods, slipping easily into a domestic rhythm that the two of you have fallen into over the past few months. He takes the plates from your hands, setting them down on the small table in the corner of the kitchen. It’s a cozy spot, just big enough for the two of you, illuminated by the warm light of the pendant lamp above. He lights a small candle in the center, the flame flickering softly, casting a golden glow that bathes the room in a romantic light.
You bring over the food, setting the dishes down as Sebastian pulls out a chair for you with a flourish, bowing dramatically. “Your seat, my dear.”
“Why, thank you, good sir,” you reply, playing along with a grin as you take your seat.
He settles down across from you, and for a moment, the two of you just look at each other, a soft silence settling between you. It’s the kind of silence that feels full, not empty—a shared moment where words aren’t necessary.
“You really outdid yourself,” Sebastian says after taking his first bite. His eyes light up with genuine delight, and it makes your heart swell with pride. “This is amazing.”
“I’m glad you like it,” you say, watching him enjoy the meal you prepared. You can’t help but feel a rush of affection for him in this moment—seeing him so relaxed, savoring the food with that boyish smile you love so much.
The two of you fall into an easy conversation, talking about your day and sharing little stories. At one point, Sebastian leans back in his chair, looking at you with an expression so soft it almost takes your breath away.
“I’ve been looking forward to this all week since there's barely time with work and studies,” he admits quietly, his voice tinged with a kind of vulnerability he doesn’t show often. “Just… having dinner with you, like this. It feels like home.”
You reach across the table, taking his hand in yours. His fingers curl around yours, warm and secure. “Me too,” you say, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s the best part of my day.”
For a while, you just hold hands, the candlelight flickering between you as you finish your meal. There’s a sense of contentment that wraps around you both like a blanket—cozy, intimate, and full of love.
After dinner, Sebastian insists on helping with the dishes, despite your protests. You end up standing side by side at the sink, elbows bumping playfully as you wash and dry. He steals kisses every chance he gets, brushing his lips against your cheek, your temple, the tip of your nose, making you laugh.
“You’re going to make me drop a plate,” you warn, though you’re smiling so much it’s hard to sound serious.
“Then I’ll catch it,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your temple.
By the time the kitchen is cleaned up, you’re both a little breathless from laughing, your cheeks warm from the shared closeness.
After the dishes are done, you’re both standing side by side, your hands still damp from the soapy water. The kitchen is quiet now, the only light coming from the small candle still flickering on the table, casting a warm, golden glow that dances across Sebastian’s face.
He turns toward you, reaching up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger there, brushing against your skin, and when you meet his gaze, there’s a different kind of warmth in his eyes—something deeper, a tenderness that makes your heart skip a beat.
“You’ve been amazing tonight.” He says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you for this.”
You smile, leaning into his touch. “You don’t have to thank me, Sebastian. I loved doing this with you.”
There’s a beat of silence, where neither of you moves, just holding each other’s gaze. Then, in a single, smooth motion, he steps closer, his hands sliding to your waist. He pulls you against him, the sudden press of his body igniting a spark of heat between you. You can feel the way his fingers tighten on your hips, firm yet gentle, as if he’s anchoring himself to you.
You tilt your head up, your breath catching in your throat as he leans in, his nose brushing against yours. He’s so close now that you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning across your lips, and when he finally kisses you, it’s slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the taste of you. It starts sweet, almost tentative, but quickly deepens as the hunger between you both grows.
Sebastian’s hands roam up your sides, tracing the curve of your waist before sliding under your shirt. His touch is warm against your skin, sending a shiver through you. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide with a desire that mirrors your own. “Is this okay?” he asks, his voice husky, almost breathless.
You nod, your own hands slipping under the hem of his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his stomach. “More than okay.” you murmur, and that’s all the permission he needs.
He kisses you again, deeper this time, his tongue parting your lips as he presses you back against the counter. The edge digs into your hips, but you barely notice, too caught up in the feel of his mouth on yours, the way he’s holding you like you’re the only thing in the world. You gasp against his lips when he grips your thighs, lifting you up onto the counter with surprising ease.
“Sebastian.” You whisper, your voice breaking with a breathy moan as his lips trail down your jaw, nipping gently at the sensitive spot just below your ear. He hums in response, his hands squeezing your thighs as he settles between them, the hard press of his body making your heart race.
You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly, and he groans, the sound vibrating against your skin. His kisses grow more heated, almost desperate, as if he can’t get enough of you. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and filled with lust. His forehead rests against yours, and you can feel his breath coming out in short, uneven puffs.
“You drive me crazy,” he admits, his voice rough and raw. His hands slide up your thighs, fingers dipping under your skirt, hooking on the waistband of your underwear. He pauses there, teasing, the pads of his fingers tracing small circles just beneath the fabric. He’s taking his time, savoring the anticipation and the shared intimacy of the moment.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you manage to tease, though your voice is shaky with desire. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and he lets out a low chuckle, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.
“It’s definitely not a bad thing,” he murmurs, capturing your lips again in a kiss that leaves you breathless. He presses himself harder against you, grinding his hips into yours, and the friction sends a wave of heat coursing through your body. You could feel his growing errection between his legs, pressing between your legs and you had to hold back not to rush it. It’s overwhelming in the best way, the feeling of his firm body fitting perfectly against yours.
His other hand slips further under your shirt, fingertips brushing over your bare skin as he tried to unclip your bra under your clothes and he certainly enjoyed it way too much the way he teased you with his slow delicate movements. He then cups the side of your waist, his thumb grazing just beneath your ribs, tracing gentle patterns. When he looks at you, it’s with an intensity that takes your breath away.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his voice filled with a raw, unfiltered honesty that makes your chest ache. He lowers his head, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your throat. His hands move with purpose now, sliding down to push your skirt up. He glances up at you, silently asking for permission, his expression almost reverent.
You nod, your breath hitching as he kneels in front of you. The sight of him on his knees, his hands gently spreading your legs appart, is enough to make your head spin. He takes his time, pressing soft kisses along your inner thighs, his eyes never leaving yours. There’s something worshipful in the way he looks at you, like he’s savoring every moment, every inch of your skin. Before you knew it, he took the piece of fabric of your lace panties between his teeth, pulling them down your legs, putting them in his own pockets.
“Sebastian…” Your voice is barely a whisper, your fingers tangling in his hair as he hooks your legs over his shoulders, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. He grins up at you, a teasing, almost playful smile, before lowering his head.
The first touch of his lips against your most sensitive spot makes you gasp, your back arching involuntarily. He’s slow and deliberate, tasting you with gentle licks that have your entire body trembling. It’s a different kind of intimacy—one that’s both intense and tender, filled with an unspoken love that takes your breath away.
He takes his time, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes, savoring the way your body responds to him. He holds your hips firmly, anchoring you in place as he explores every inch of you, finding the spots that make you shudder and moan his name. You can feel his hot breath against you, the soft hum of pleasure that escapes him as he loses himself in the moment.
Your fingers curl tighter in his hair, tugging him closer as you struggle to keep your voice steady. “Sebastian… please.”
He groans against you, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your core. He pulls back slightly, just enough to look up at you, his lips glistening, eyes heavy with desire. “I love it when you say my name like that,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with need. „Keep your eyes on me, darling.“
You’re panting now, your entire body trembling as he dives back in, his tongue moving faster, more insistently. The pleasure builds steadily, a wave of heat coiling low in your belly, making you feel like you’re on the edge of something wonderful. He watches your face as he works, taking in every gasp, every moan, as if it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.
You can’t hold back any longer. Your body tenses, your thighs clamping around his head as you reach your peak, crying out his name. He doesn’t stop, riding out your release, his tongue gentle now, coaxing you through the aftershocks.
When you finally come back down, your chest heaving, he presses one last soft kiss against your thigh before standing up. He looks at you with a boyish grin, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Was that okay?” he asks, though his smirk tells you he knows exactly how good it was.
You let out a breathless laugh, pulling him into a kiss that’s sweet and grateful, tasting yourself on his lips. “More than okay,” you murmur against his mouth. “You’re incredible.”
He wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly, his nose nuzzling into your neck as he plants a soft kiss there. “I love you,” he whispers, the words like a quiet promise against your skin.
You smile, pressing a kiss to his temple, your fingers gently stroking through his hair. “I love you too.”
Without another word, he scoops you up effortlessly, his hands strong and sure as he lifts you off the counter. You let out a surprised laugh, clinging to him, your arms looping around his neck as he cradles you against his chest.
“Taking this somewhere more comfortable,” he murmurs, pressing a quick, teasing kiss to your forehead. The look in his eyes is smoldering, filled with an unspoken promise of what’s to come. He carries you through the dimly lit hallway, each step deliberate, the anticipation building between you both. Your heart races, beating in time with his, the air thick with the shared desire that crackles like electricity.
As you reach the bedroom, he nudges the door open with his foot, the soft light from the hallway spilling in and casting a golden glow over the bed. He sets you down gently, his hands lingering on your hips as he leans down to kiss you again. It’s slower this time, a lazy, lingering kiss that’s filled with a tenderness that makes your chest ache.
“You’re too good to me,” you whisper against his lips, your hands already slipping under the fabric of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.
He chuckles, low and sweet, as he pulls back just enough to tug his shirt over his head. “I’m exactly as good as you deserve,” he replies, his voice husky. He tosses the shirt aside carelessly, and your eyes roam over his exposed chest, the play of light and shadow accentuating the muscles there. He looks at you like he’s drinking you in, savoring every detail, every expression on your face.
Your fingers find the button of his jeans, working it open as he watches you with a hooded gaze. He helps you, shrugging out of his pants and kicking them aside, leaving him in just his boxers. The sight of him—flushed, breathing heavily, and looking at you with a mixture of adoration and want—makes a wave of heat wash over you.
You lean back against the pillows, propping yourself up as he climbs onto the bed, his knees sinking into the mattress. He’s on you in an instant, his hands gently prying your shirt off, his lips trailing soft kisses down your collarbone as he peels the fabric away. When you’re bare before him, he pauses, taking a moment just to look at you. The way his eyes drink you in makes you feel cherished, like you’re the most precious thing in the world to him.
“Perfect,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your sternum, then another lower, right over your heart. You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, the press of his lips sending shivers through your body.
His hands trail down your sides, fingers close between your legs. He raises his eyes to yours, silently asking for permission once again. When you give a small, eager nod, he pushes them in, toying with you, his gaze never leaving yours.
He presses closer, his bare chest flush against yours now, skin against skin. The warmth of him seeps into you, grounding you even as your heart feels like it might burst from the intensity of the moment. You can feel every hard line of his body, the way he fits so perfectly against you, like you were made for each other.
“Sebastian.” you whisper, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. You reach up, cupping his cheek in your hand, and he turns his head to press a kiss to your palm.
“I’ve got you.” He murmurs, his voice filled with love and a gentle promise. He dips his head down, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s slow and deep, his hand, pulled out of you, sliding down your side to grip your thigh, pulling you closer. His other hand roams up your body, fingers splaying out on your chest as he squeezed the skin.
You shiver as he shifts, settling between your legs, the press of his body sending a wave of warmth through you. He grinds against you slowly, the friction delicious, and you gasp into his mouth, your nails digging into his back. He groans, a deep, guttural sound that reverberates through his chest, and you can feel the restrained need in the way he moves.
“Tell me what you want,” he breathes against your lips, his forehead resting against yours as he gazes down at you with an intensity that makes your breath hitch.
“You,” you reply, your voice barely a whisper. “I want you.”
He kisses you again, hard and fervent, his hips pressing into yours in a slow, rolling motion that has you arching up against him, seeking more. You can feel his smile against your lips, a soft, tender curve that’s full of love.
“I’m all yours,” he whispers back, his words like a promise. “Tonight and always.”
He moves slowly, unhurried, taking his time to explore every inch of your body with his lips and hands, like he’s memorizing every curve, every shiver. The room is filled with the sound of your shared breaths, the soft sighs and gasps as he touches you, holds you, loves you.
„Promise I always will.“ Those where his last words before you were able to feel him close to your entrance, his tip stroking you gently before he pushed in.
The next morning came in silence, but it wasn’t the kind you loved. It wasn’t the quiet murmur of the world still asleep, or the gentle hum of life waking up slowly. It was the kind of silence that felt heavy, almost suffocating. The kind that made you realize something was missing before you even opened your eyes.
You shifted, reaching out instinctively to the other side of the bed, expecting the familiar warmth of Sebastian’s body curled up against yours. Instead, your fingers met cold, empty sheets. Your heart sank a little, the small knot of disappointment tightening in your chest.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Mornings were your favorite time together, the one part of the day where you could both be unguarded, lazy, and wrapped up in each other without any of life’s distractions pulling you apart. You loved waking up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee, the sound of the kettle whistling in the kitchen as Sebastian made you breakfast, or the soft kiss he’d press to your forehead before you were even fully awake. It was the sweetest part of your life—those quiet, precious moments that belonged only to the two of you.
But today, there was none of that. Just an empty bed and a lingering chill where his warmth should have been. You opened your eyes, blinking at the soft light filtering through the curtains, half expecting to see him standing there, smiling at you like he always did. But the room was empty.
You sat up slowly, the sheets pooling around your waist, and glanced around as if he might suddenly appear. The pillow next to you was still dented from where he’d slept, but it was cool to the touch now, the scent of him fading away. You pressed your face into it anyway, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply, trying to hold on to that small piece of him for a moment longer.
„Sebastian?“ You called out, hoping for any kind of reaction, your voice filling the room.
It didn’t make sense. He hadn’t mentioned leaving early. He hadn’t said anything about having plans today. Your mind raced with possibilities, each one leaving a hollow ache in its wake. Maybe he’d just stepped out for a bit, you told yourself. He’d be back any minute, you were sure of it.
But as you swung your legs over the side of the bed, the cold floor beneath your feet seemed to echo the emptiness inside you. You wrapped the blanket tighter around your shoulders, trying to chase away the chill. It wasn’t just the cold of the room—it was the cold that came from waking up alone when you’d gotten so used to waking up together. This felt oddly strange.
You couldn’t help but remember the way it usually was. How he’d pull you closer, mumbling half-asleep compliments against your neck. How his fingers would trace lazy patterns on your skin, making you feel like you were the only person in the world. How you’d both lie there for as long as you could, wrapped up in the warmth of each other, talking softly or just sharing comfortable silence.
You glanced at the clock on the nightstand, hoping you were wrong. Hoping maybe you’d just woken up before him, and he’d be back any second, slipping into bed beside you with a sheepish smile and a kiss on your cheek. But the clock told a different story. It was already late—later than he’d ever leave without saying something.
You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stand up, your legs feeling shaky beneath you. The house felt colder without him here, and the empty quiet of it pressed in on you. You padded out into the hallway, calling his name softly once more, half expecting him to pop his head out from the kitchen, teasing you for being so worried.
But there was no answer. No kettle boiling, no clink of mugs, no smell of coffee in the air. Just the empty echo of your voice.
You leaned against the doorframe, closing your eyes and letting the silence wash over you. The ache in your chest felt heavier now, settling like a stone. It was a small thing, really—waking up alone just once—but it felt like a shadow of something bigger. A reminder of how much you needed him, of how much his presence had become a part of your mornings, your days, your everything.
You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, rubbing your hands over your arms in a vain attempt to warm up. He’d be back soon, you told yourself again. He had to be. He wouldn’t just leave like this, not without a word. He wouldn’t take away the part of the morning you loved the most—the part where you woke up next to him and felt like everything was right in the world.
But as you stood there, staring at the empty hallway, you couldn’t help the small, creeping worry that maybe today was different. Maybe today was the start of a morning you’d have to face alone, a morning without him to hold you and make you feel whole.
And that thought made the quiet feel so much colder.
The quiet stretched longer than it should have, and with each passing second, the doubt in your mind grew. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, but you tried to brush it off. You told yourself it was nothing—Sebastian had probably just gone out to grab breakfast or coffee. It was a Saturday, after all, and the world outside was just starting to wake up. But as you moved through the house, something felt off.
You made your way to the entryway, half-expecting to see him standing there, pulling on his shoes or grabbing his coat. But the spot where his jacket usually hung was empty. The shoes he always left by the door were gone too. You frowned, the empty space making your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t quite explain. Maybe he had left early, maybe to pick up something for breakfast, or maybe to run an errand.
You convinced yourself that’s what had happened. He’d just stepped out. He’d be back soon. You had to believe that. You turned away from the door and walked back through the house, glancing around for any sign of him. The stillness pressed against you like a heavy blanket, and despite your best efforts to remain calm, you couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at you.
As you entered the living room, you caught sight of the bookshelf against the wall. Your eyes narrowed, and your heart began to race. The shelf was slightly askew, the way it was when Sebastian had been messing around with it. But it wasn’t just the shelf that caught your attention—it was the hidden compartment behind it. Your safe. It was slightly open.
You had always hidden it carefully, knowing it was the one place where you kept the money that had become so important to Sebastian and you over the past few months. But now, standing there, you felt a cold shiver race down your spine. You walked over to it, and as you opened the compartment fully, your stomach dropped. The safe was empty. Your heart skipped a beat, and panic surged through you. The money—everything you had been so careful to keep safe—was gone. The only explanation you could think of was that Sebastian had taken it. He had taken everything. Your mind screamed at you, but your body felt frozen, unable to move.
Your breath quickened, and the room around you began to spin. A knot twisted in your chest, suffocating you, and your mind started to race with the worst possible thoughts. Had he really done this? Had he taken everything and left me? Your hands shook as you backed away from the shelf, your mind still desperately trying to make sense of what was happening. You had trusted him, believed in him, and now all you could think of was how everything had felt too perfect—like it had all been a lie. Any kind of trust was lost as you couldn't come up with a single good reason why he should take the money and disappear.
You moved quickly, heart pounding in your chest, darting around the house as if searching for something, anything that would prove you were wrong. You tore through the living room, the kitchen, even the bathroom. But there was nothing—no sign of him, no explanation for what had happened. The silence pressed down harder, and the walls around you seemed to close in, suffocating you with the weight of your thoughts.
Suddenly, the house felt too big, too empty. Every sound, every small creak, seemed amplified in the stillness. You felt like you were drowning in your own panic. Your chest tightened, and your breathing became shallow, erratic. Your vision blurred as the tears began to well up in your eyes. It was all happening too fast, too overwhelming.
You collapsed to your knees on the floor, hands gripping your hair as your mind spiraled. No, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. The thought that Sebastian had taken the money, that he had left you with nothing but confusion and betrayal, shattered something inside you. Everything you had shared—the late-night talks, the laughter, the mornings together—it all felt like a cruel joke now.
"Sebastian!" you screamed, the word ripping from your throat, raw and desperate. "Where are you?"
But there was no answer. Just the emptiness, the silence stretching longer and longer, pulling you further into a dark pit of fear and confusion. You curled in on yourself, hands over your face, tears streaming freely as the weight of it all pressed down on you. How could you have been so wrong? How could you have let yourself trust him so completely, only for him to take everything away in one cruel moment?
The house felt like a prison. Every corner, every empty space reminded you of what you had lost, what had been stolen from you. And as the panic surged, all you could think was that he had left, and you were alone, with nothing but the aching hollow in your chest to show for it.
You cried, helplessly, uncontrollably, the sobs shaking your entire body. Nothing made sense. Nothing could bring you the comfort you craved. And all you could do was scream, hoping for some kind of answer that would never come.
Sebastian woke up first, the quiet morning light filtering through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. His gaze immediately landed on you—peacefully asleep beside him. The sight of you, tangled in the sheets with your hair messy from the night, made his heart skip a beat. There was something about you, something that made everything else in the world fade away when he was with you.
He could still feel the warmth of your body against his, the weight of your presence next to him, and the quiet intimacy that seemed to wrap around both of you. The night had been perfect, full of laughter and closeness, but in that moment, as he watched you sleep, something more profound settled in him.
He realized, with a clarity that shocked him, that he didn’t just want this—this closeness, this joy, this love—he wanted all of it. Forever. It was like a light bulb turning on in his head, and it was undeniable. He wanted to spend his life with you. The idea of waking up to this—waking up to *you*—for every day to come filled him with a warmth that he couldn’t ignore.
Sebastian’s chest tightened with a mix of excitement and nerves, the weight of the realization both exhilarating and humbling. He knew, deep down, that this wasn’t just a fleeting thought or a momentary rush of emotion. It was real. He wanted to build a life with you. He wanted to promise you forever, no matter what.
Carefully, he slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb you. The sheets rustled gently as he moved, and he paused, watching you for a moment longer, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He admired how peaceful you looked, how safe and content, lost in dreams. He didn’t want to wake you yet. This moment, this quiet, was just for him.
Sebastian stood, stretching his limbs and glancing around the room. His heart still pounded with the weight of what he was about to do. He knew he had to do it. He had to show you that he wasn’t just saying the words when he said he loved you. He was going to prove it.
Moving quietly to the dresser, he pulled on his clothes, careful not to make any noise. His hands trembled slightly, the excitement of the decision making his heart race. He knew what he had to do, and nothing was going to stop him.
His eyes flicked toward the shelf where you kept your safe, his heart skipping. He had always known about it—he respected it, and he knew it was important to you. But today, today was different. He didn’t hesitate for a second as he opened the shelf, taking out the safe. The contents of the small box—money that had been saved for a future you’d both been dreaming of—meant something far more than just savings now. It was a way for him to take the first step toward that future. The life he wanted to build with you.
Sebastian swallowed hard as he pulled the money out, placing it carefully in his pocket. His chest tightened, but it wasn’t from nerves about what he was doing—it was from the overwhelming realization that he was making the choice to move forward, to ask for forever. He knew he was going to spend the rest of his life with you, and that thought was everything.
He turned, quietly making his way out of the room and into the hallway. The city outside was just beginning to wake up, the soft hum of the early morning a comforting backdrop to his racing thoughts. His mind was focused on one thing now: making sure the ring was perfect, making sure it was everything you deserved. He’d save the money for the rest of your life together later.
But today, today was the start of everything.
Sebastian made his way to the jewelry store, each step feeling more like a confirmation of what he had known all along. He was doing the right thing, and no matter how many details needed to be perfect, all that mattered was the love he felt for you. He had to make sure that the ring was just as unforgettable as the way you made him feel every single day.
As he stepped into the shop, his eyes immediately scanned the selection, his mind fixed solely on one goal. He didn’t need to search for long. The moment his eyes landed on a beautiful, delicate ring, a diamond set against a simple gold band, he knew it was the one. He imagined the way it would look on your finger, how it would symbolize everything he wanted to say but didn’t always have the words for.
With a deep breath, he picked it up, his fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the box. He paid, his hands shaking slightly with anticipation, excitement thrumming through his veins.
All he had to do now was get home to you. To show you how much you meant to him, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.
The entire time he was gone, his mind was consumed with thoughts of you. He knew when he returned, it wouldn’t just be another ordinary morning. It would be the start of a new chapter. A chapter that began with love, and ended with forever.
But he never returned.
The metallic scent of the Hadal Blacksite hung thick in the air, its sterile walls casting a cold, lifeless atmosphere around you. The labyrinth of vents you crawled through felt like a maze, twisting and turning with no end in sight. Your knees scraped against the jagged metal, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. Every inch of your body screamed in exhaustion, but your mission kept you moving. The crystal—the one thing you needed to find—was somewhere within this forsaken facility. But you had to survive long enough to retrieve it.
The deeper you went, the darker it became. The vents barely let any light in, and the only sound you could hear was the echo of your own breathing, shallow and frantic. You couldn’t afford to think about how you got here, how everything had spiraled out of control, or the faces you had once known. All you could focus on was the present, the objective. The crystal.
Your life had been shattered after Sebastian’s betrayal. You had fallen so far, so fast, that it felt like the very ground beneath you had disappeared. Now, here you were, crawling through the grim, unforgiving halls of the Blacksite—nothing more than a shadow, a criminal. Desperate. The crushing weight of debt and hunger had driven you beyond what you once thought possible.
Money had been the catalyst for your descent into this hellish place. The lack of it, the constant struggle to survive, had broken you down piece by piece until you were willing to do anything—anything—to escape the suffocating grasp of poverty. Your morals, your dignity, everything you once held dear, faded into the background as you scraped together whatever scraps of hope you could find.
And then you crossed the line.
It was never supposed to come to this. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t risk it all, but desperation had a way of warping your sense of reason. You had stepped into the Blacksite’s underbelly, risking your life, hoping the payoff would be enough to turn everything around. But all you had now were regrets, each one more suffocating than the last.
You had never imagined it would end like this.
It was hard to tell how much time had passed when you finally reached an access hatch, a simple vent. You didn’t hesitate, swinging it open and slipping through into the dimly lit room. Your eyes scanned the space, still disoriented from the crawl, but something stopped you dead in your tracks.
It was a shop.
A small, oddly shop tucked away in the heart of the Blacksite. The walls were lined with shelves—an assortment of strange, vintage devices, dusty trinkets, and knick-knacks. In the corner, a glass display case held a collection of unmarked items, their importance completely unknown to you. It was surreal, this oasis in the middle of a place so cold and hostile.
But what made your breath catch in your throat wasn’t the strange setting or the items on the shelves.
You froze, heart pounding in your chest as your eyes locked onto him. Sebastian. But he wasn’t the man you had once known—he wasn’t even close. His appearance was twisted, distorted, as though the years had been unkind, carving deep lines of pain into his face. His eyes, once warm and familiar, now held a cold emptiness, an unrecognizable void inbetween the fluorescent glow. His skin was pale gray, unnatural, like something out of a nightmare, and his presence felt wrong, as though he had been reshaped by something dark and uncontrollable. The shock hit you like a physical blow, your stomach churning as you tried to pull back, your legs shaking with the instinct to flee. You didn't even dared to comment the rest of his body. This wasn’t the man you loved: this wasn’t even someone you could recognize. A wave of disgust washed over you, mingling with the terror that gripped your throat. You couldn’t even process it—your mind couldn't make sense of the grotesque transformation. All you could do was stumble backward, every inch of your body telling you to get away, to escape this horrible, unrecognizable figure before you.
You took a slow, cautious step backward, your breath shallow and erratic. Every movement felt like an eternity as you tried to distance yourself from the nightmare standing in front of you. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, the twisted version of Sebastian, but at the same time, you couldn’t look at him. The terror in your chest made your limbs heavy, your mind clouded with panic, and your heart ached in a way that made it hard to breathe.
You moved quietly, silently, as though retreating would give you the space to think, to make sense of this madness. Your feet stumbled awkwardly, barely making any sound against the cold floor—until they didn’t. Your foot caught on something—an object, a piece of debris that you hadn’t noticed before—and in a split second, your body was crashing to the ground.
The impact sent a sharp pain through your limbs, and before you could even react, you froze, utterly paralyzed by the noise. The sound of your fall echoed through the room, and in an instant, you felt his presence shift. His breathing grew louder, and then he turned.
For a moment, everything stopped. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe. Every muscle in your body locked up as you lay there, immobilized by fear.
And then he saw you.
His eyes, once hollow, suddenly flickered with recognition. His face—so alien just moments before—shifted into something you could hardly process. A look of utter shock and joy crossed his features, his mouth parting in disbelief, displaying his sharp teeth. He moved toward you cautiously, his voice hoarse but filled with an overwhelming sense of relief.
“Y-You...?” His voice trembled, almost in awe. His eyes darted over your face, his expression softening as the pieces of recognition fell into place. “No way… is it really you?”
A rush of emotion flooded through him—something you hadn’t seen in a long time, something raw and vulnerable. His face broke into an unrestrained, radiant smile, and for the first time, you saw the man you once knew beneath all the horror. It was a moment of pure, unfiltered joy that made your stomach twist in confusion and disbelief.
You could barely move, still too stunned to comprehend the sight before you, but his reaction was enough to make your chest tighten, a jolt of emotion hitting you like a wave, not in a good way.
He was happy to see you. And somehow, in this strange, twisted reality, that felt even more terrifying.
Sebastian moved closer, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for the pocket of his coat, pulling something out with an eager grin. The object glinted in his hand, and for a moment, the sight of the small box made your heart skip with fear. But you couldn’t process it, couldn’t make sense of the words he was about to speak.
“I—I can’t believe this… I’ve missed you so much,” he rambled, his voice a mix of relief and confusion. His gaze never left you, his eyes soft but filled with an almost frantic urgency, as though he couldn’t believe you were really here. “I thought I’d never see you again, after everything—after how much I messed up. I don’t know how you ended up down here, I don’t understand, but… I don’t care.”
His words poured out, faster than he could catch them, like he had been waiting for this moment, this reunion, for so long. He seemed out of breath, his chest heaving slightly as he spoke, the joy barely contained in his voice. His behaviour felt so off on so many different levels, not lovingly like you knew him back then, but obsessive in the worst way.
“I’ve been waiting for this… for you,” he continued, a wild light in his eyes. “I told myself I’d come back to you, no matter what. No matter what happened or what I had to go through… you were always on my mind. I never stopped thinking about you. I—" His voice caught, almost as if the words were too much to handle.
He paused for a moment, his face suddenly serious, as if weighing something. Then, with a flourish, he opened the small box in his hand, revealing the engagement ring nestled inside, covered in some dry blood and dirt. His smile stretched wide, a mix of pride and happiness in his eyes. “I was going to ask you... I wanted to ask you... I’ve been saving for so long. I—” He glanced at you, his expression filled with an almost childlike excitement. “I wanted to give you this. I wanted to promise you everything. I know things were messed up, but you *are* everything to me. And I—I need you to know that.”
But you couldn’t hear his words anymore. They were distant, muffled, as if the world around you was closing in. Your chest felt hollow, and despite the tears that had begun to fall silently down your face, your body felt numb. The shock of seeing him again, the confusion, the betrayal—it was too much to handle. You didn’t know whether to scream or to run, but your body refused to move.
His words—so full of joy, so hopeful—made everything worse. The engagement ring, the smiles, the words of love—they all felt like knives in your chest. Your throat tightened, and the tears came harder, spilling down your cheeks in a silent torrent as you stared at him, completely incapable of responding.
He kept talking, his words becoming a blur. He didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he didn’t care, that you weren’t saying anything back, that you weren’t moving. His smile remained wide and genuine, as if he was living some dream he had longed for. But for you? It was a nightmare that you couldn’t escape, not even if you tried.
You were deadly terrified of him.
You don't know who was standing in front of you anymore.
„GET AWAY FROM ME!“
#⊹₊⟡⋆satori.speaks#⊹₊⟡⋆writings#pressure x reader#roblox pressure x reader#roblox pressure#pressure#sebastian solace x reader#sebastian solace
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I love Enciodes's module. It adds so much to his character. It paints such a vivid picture of this lonely, grieving, frustrated, hurting youth, who nevertheless doggedly kept the spark of hope and idealism alive in his heart.
It's called "Snow Realm Fowlcare Kit," and is told from the perspective of Enciodes's perpetual companion: Tenzin. The image depicts an assortment of bird-related paraphernalia which Enciodes used (and perhaps still uses) to take care of Tenzin.
When it awoke, it found itself lying in a warm room. The unfamiliar environment frightened it and it wanted to leave, but it was in so much pain it could not move. The door opened, and through it strode a Feline boy with silver hair and a thick tail. He approached it with liniment and gauze in hand, applying the medicine in the bottle to the wound before bandaging it up. It struggled a little at first, but was too weak to do anything but accept the boy's treatment before falling into a deep slumber.
We open with how the two met: Tenzin awakening in Enciodes's room, afraid and hurt. Tenzin is first introduced to Enciodes with an act of kindness: cleansing and wrapping the bird's injury. We don't know what kind of injury it is, but considering how Tenzin is in pain too overwhelming to even move, I can only presume it's a grievous wound for a young bird, likely one which would lead to the creature's death if left untreated.
So right off the bat, we have the impression that Enciodes is the kind of the person who would come across a severely wounded animal and rescue it in the hopes that he might still be able to save its life. While Enciodes himself draws a distinction between his childhood self and his adult self, not unreasonably, this is something that we can still see the glimmers of--positive and negative--in him later on, not only in the way he saves Degenbrecher but in the way he seeks to save all of Kjerag from ruin.
On the second day, the boy took it back to where it had been found. They wandered through the woods for an entire day until the boy was exhausted and gasping for breath, but in the end found only the remains of two adult fowlbeasts. He built a small grave for them, then turned to it and said: 'Now, both of us are in the same boat.' The boy took it back to his room, and the tiny nest inside became its new home. The boy would come check on it every day. He liked to gently wipe its plumage while chatting with it, unconcerned with whether it could understand him.
Enciodes was so determined to return this baby bird home that he spent the whole day searching to the point of exhaustion to try to find Tenzin's parents. Not only that, but when he found them dead, he took the time to build them a grave. It's so sweet and pure of him to spend his time like this for a mere bird, particularly as we can see by the mention of them being "in the same boat" that this happened not long after the accident that took Olafur and Elizabeth. No doubt, struggling to cope with grief is what sent Enciodes wandering in the woods and finding Tenzin in the first place. And immediately, he finds this to be the point of connection between them: they're both orphans now. I can't help but wonder if Enciodes building a grave for the dead birds was a form of closure for him--Olafur and Elizabeth died in a train accident. Was there anything left of them to bury at all (if the Kjerags bury their dead)? Possibly not. At least he could give the birds a proper send-off.
And with no other choice, he doesn't hesitate to bring Tenzin back home with him, resolved to care for this feeble creature that he rescued, because who else would? They're in the same boat, after all.
It's also clear that caring for Tenzin gave Enciodes a much-needed psychological outlet, a form of healthy distraction from the many burdens on his shoulders and the loss of his parents. Looking after an injured animal even more helpless than himself and wholly dependent on him must have been a form of therapy and comfort for him, especially because it was someone he could talk to and who would listen and not judge him. Every single day, without fail, he wiped Tenzin's feathers and presumably changed the dressing of its wound, talking to it about his troubles--because he had no-one else to talk to.
...... Like that one night, when the boy approached it with a sullen face and said: 'I'm confident I have what it takes to be a strong clan leader or a good brother, but I cannot guarantee I can do both at once.' The boy sighed as he spoke. He contemplated for a long time, before finally running off to return with a box that smelled nice. Inside was his sister's favorite dish.
This one stings, and it wouldn't surprise me if this is foreshadowing for the final reveal of what was the argument between Enya and Enciodes the night before she went on the Saintess's trial. Enciodes, who has been groomed to become the clan's leader since virtually the moment he was born, has come to the painful realization that he has to choose between being a good leader and being a good brother, because he cannot do both at the same time.
This plays into a recurring theme in the Kjerag stories: choosing between family and leadership. We've seen it in the conflicts between the Browntail sisters and how they envy each other's position but most clearly with how Ratatos feel hollow and deprived of her sister's mundane happiness; in the way Arctosz chose to send Tatyana and Rosalind back to Ursus, as even being leader of Paleroches wasn't enough to guarantee their safety after the Silverashes were targeted; in the way Enciodes complains as a child that his own father can't even smile when he's with his family; and of course, in the ongoing conflict between Enciodes and Enya and how they must set aside their blood relation to each other in their leadership roles, and how those leadership roles further divide them from each other and from Ensia.
While for now, as he retrieves Enya's favorite dish, Enciodes is trying to do what he can for his sisters while he still can, we know his choice is a foregone conclusion: he chose to become a strong clan leader over being a good brother. Ultimately, he chose the clan and chose Kjerag as a whole over his relationship with his sisters, no doubt in part because he believes protecting Kjerag from the threats posed by the outside world is the best thing he can do for the country and for them as a whole, and in part because it was always his dream that Kjerag should, could, and would be more, as is seen in Gnosis's oprec. Enciodes has always been dissatisfied with Kjerag's standing in the world, and has always wanted to change this.
But we see here that as I said in my previous essay, he did not make that decision lightly and it was a decision that caused him emotional anguish. This module as a whole, as well as Gnosis's oprec, demonstrates painfully clearly that Enciodes was a normal child. He had his dreams, his quirks, his interests, his struggles--and he did, in fact, care about his family a normal amount. But he was forced to make a choice, and make a choice he did.
...... Like that one afternoon, when the boy approached it with a tinge of melancholy in his voice: 'I want to graciously wish Gnosis success on his new journey, yet I selfishly hope for him to stay.' Perhaps because he had been bottling it in for so long, the boy spent the next half hour explaining to it the situation of the Edelweiss clan, the difficulties facing Gnosis, and his reluctance to part ways with his best friend. In the end, he sighed again and said, 'Alas, you're the only who can hear me out. I'd better think of a farewell gift for him now.'
I talked about this in-depth in another post, so I'll try not to repeat myself. I'm glad to see it explicitly stated that Gnosis is Enciodes's best friend; likely, at this point, still his only friend, too. It breaks my heart how Enciodes is so stressed and has been bottling up his feelings about Gnosis in the wake of the blame being pinned on the Edelweisses that he pours his heart out to Tenzin for half an hour. Tenzin is the only one whom Enciodes can talk to about the Edelweisses and their hardships, which underscores just how bad their situation in Kjerag was and how awkward Enciodes's position must have been as the ostensible victim of theirs. It must have been difficult for Enciodes to even go on seeing Gnosis, much less openly associating with him as the son of his parents' murderers, after everything happened.
Enciodes knows the polite thing to do is bid Gnosis good luck going abroad, but he's unable to do this just yet because he selfishly, desperately, hopes that somehow Gnosis will stay. This is how much Gnosis means to him: even though it's possible that Gnosis's life will be in danger if he remains in Kjerag, his companionship is so important to Enciodes that even knowing all of this, even knowing that the Edelweisses are at the epicenter of all of Kjerag's hatred right now, Enciodes still wishes he could stay. He doesn't want to be alone. He doesn't want to be without Gnosis--his one friend, the one person who shares his dream and the one person who understands him and with whom he shares a deep connection outside of his family.
But alas: there is nothing Enciodes can do. He can't keep Gnosis there. Sooner rather than later, he has to bid Gnosis good-bye, and make him that promise one last time, "I'll come find you," probably fearful deep down that they'll never see each other again.
I wonder, also, what was Enciodes's farewell gift to Gnosis. (I'd be over the moon if Gnosis's second module was about this.) Gnosis probably gave him one of the traditional Edelweiss family knives if he hadn't already, but what could Enciodes give him? Something to remind Gnosis of him, their friendship, their shared dream, their promised future together.
...... And like that day when its wounds healed, and the boy took it out to the snowy plains to practice flying. When it was about to take off, he took out a black silk scarf, tied the fabric around its neck, and asked: 'Will you come with me?' —At that moment, the boy had already decided to set aside the burdens of being a clan leader and depart from the Snow Realm to study abroad. It simply cocked its head and looked at him. Of course, it did not know what the boy was worried about, why he was anxious, or why he was sad. But perhaps, it sensed that the boy, just like it, did not wish to stay confined in a warm room. He wished to soar beneath the blue sky— It spread its wings and leapt forward. Then, to the boy's happy, surprised shouts, it took off with the wind. On that day, it learned to fly once again.
As soon as Tenzin's wounds have healed, Enciodes takes it out to practice flying. If Tenzin was just a baby when Enciodes rescued it, it never even had to opportunity to learn to fly from its parents, but Enciodes is clearly resolved to find a way anyway, or maybe believes that Tenzin will somehow be able to do it through instinct. Yet first, he must ask it a question, as he's already made up his mind to continue on the path he'd previously chosen.
I love how he straight-up asks Tenzin if Tenzin will go with him. He's cared for this bird for probably weeks, spoken to and petted it on a daily basis, given it a home because it has no other--for all intents and purposes, it belongs to him now and will never be able to survive in the wild again, and even the scarf he ties around its neck can be taken as a symbol of ownership rather than a token of affection. Yet still, approaching the verge of departing Kjerag, he sees fit to ensure Tenzin can fly and has its own free will to choose whether or not it wants to go with him. Undoubtedly, Tenzin went with him to Victoria, and I'm sure Enciodes was happy to have his beloved pet as company in an unfamiliar country, particularly given how nervous and uncomfortable he is there.
It's beautiful as well how Tenzin is a metaphor for Enciodes himself in this last section. Through their long time together, even if Tenzin doesn't fully understand Enciodes's words or complex problems, it understands his emotions, and shares his joy and his sorrow. And through this bond, Tenzin feels that Enciodes, too, longs for freedom, for more beyond the comfortable isolation and willful ignorance of Kjerag--he, too, wants to fly. And Enciodes's determination, however battered, is inspiration for Tenzin to fly once more. They're one and the same in this last moment: two creatures both wounded albeit in different ways, seeking the earliest opportunity to spread their wings, literal and metaphorical.
(Here I must also note that this bird metaphor and seeking of freedom is a potential callback as well to Gnosis once more, as he also receives similar imagery in his EP and his oprec.)
And as Tenzin takes off, we know that Enciodes will soon take off as well, perhaps inspired in turn: the greatest changes to his character and person, not to mention the beginning of his practical experience and the true real foundation of his great endeavor, began when he departed the "warm room" of Kjerag and went to Victoria. As Tenzin learns to fly once more, Enciodes too will also learn to fly.
Reading the module, it's abundantly clear now why Enciodes is accompanied by Tenzin at almost every turn. Not only does he love Tenzin so much, he's cared for Tenzin since Tenzin was a little chick, and Tenzin chooses to go with him wherever he goes. (Similarly, I think I can say my headcanon of Enciodes lovingly choosing Tenzin's bandanas to match his own outfits is more or less confirmed.) They're inseparable companions.
It's also incredibly sweet how reading this, we can see that much as Enciodes hand-raised Tenzin, Tenzin has also watched Enciodes grow up: from a frustrated child into the powerful adult he is today, listening to his thoughts and secret worries all the while, at many instances being his sole comfort and confidante. I'd like to think that Tenzin harbors just as much affection for Enciodes as he must hold for it...
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Let me show you how sorry I am
Bjorn x Fem!Reader
minors dni!
summary: Bjorn made you cry and he's very sorry about it. So sorry that he buries his head between your legs... warnings: smut, oral (fem! receiving), toxic relationship, plot? what plot?, ooc maybe?, not proof-read a/n: Guess who's back?! I wrote this in like two hours so if it's shit yk why. Bjorn eating his gf out after he fucked up is very real to me this man will avoid the consequences of being a dick like it's the plague. ANYWAYS, something small for you! w/c: 819
Bjorn is always saying shit he doesn’t mean. It’s just how he is.
In the heat of the moment, he will say the most outrageous shit and cause you to storm out in tears.
At first, he thinks you’re being dramatic until he calms down and realizes what a dickhead he was. And that’s when the guilt comes and he’s calling you, texting you, begging you to hear him out.
When you ignore him, he goes to your trailer. When you open the door and send him a venomous look, he looks all desperate, like a kicked puppy.
He cups your face, keeps saying how sorry he is and how much of an asshole he is all the time and you let him, because you know what comes next.
You’re weak, so weak you hated it. Especially when he starts kissing your cheeks, testing the waters, seeing if you’ll push him away. You never do, always melting in his arms as he slowly kisses your jaw and neck.
His lips move with yours in a slow, deep rhythm, leading you to your bedroom.
You fall on the bed with a soft groan, pulling him on top of you.
You don’t stop him when he takes off your pants. Why would you?
Oh right, you’re mad at him…
Then he starts whispering “You know I don’t mean all’at shit, right?” and “I love you, I dunno what I was sayin’, baby.” between kisses.
You barely hear him, too drunk on the taste of his tongue yet you nodded, no longer caring about the fight. Hell, you barely remember it.
And he knows it.
A small smirk tugs at his lips when you chase his lips after he pulls away.
“My perfect girl deserves better.” He purrs against your neck whilst leaving a trail of red marks from your neck to your collarbone.
You reach for his soft hair when he reaches your panties, lips inches away from where you desperately need him.
His finger lightly grazes the wet spot on the fabric as he looks up at you through his lashes and asks you “Lemme show ya how sorry I am, yeah?”
It’s embarrassing how fast you nod.
He drags the underwear down your legs, torturously slow to the point where you whine for him to hurry up.
Bjorn is rarely patient. He usually fucks you fast and hard, like a starved man. But not tonight.
Tonight he wanted to show you how sorry he is. And why you always end up forgiving him.
Watching him position himself between your spread legs is enough to knock the air out of your lungs.
You watched the spit abandon his lips and fall on your core, mixing with your juices.
His eyes meet yours once again as he flattens his tongue against your pussy, sending shivers down your spine.
His name falls from your lips in desperate, pathetic moans as he dives between your legs.
He sucked and slurped on your essence, spreading your folds with his fingers. He didn’t stop even when your thighs were squeezing his head, not even when he felt like his lungs were going to explode from the lack of oxygen.
How could he? When his girl was begging him to ‘not stop’ when she was so sweet to let him show her how remorseful he was.
Almost as sweet as her juices that drive him crazy with every lick.
“Ah! Fuck!” You moan, thighs trembling with the sensation of your nearing release.
He threw your legs over his shoulders and lifted your hips to bring you closer, needing to be as close as possible, to lick every last drop you had to offer him.
His tongue feverishly lapped your soaked cunt, your loud moans only fueling him to go faster, to ruin you completely so that the only thing you can remember is the feeling of your tongue between your folds.
The last straw was Bjorn’s moan against your clit. You come with a scream, not caring about your neighbors.
You squeezed his head with your quivering thighs, the earthshattering orgasm you just experienced left you a shaking, breathless mess.
And you swear you almost came again when Bjorn finally pulled his head back, admiring his work before meeting your hazy gaze. His slick-coated lips moved but you didn’t hear him.
You nod regardless.
“You really forgive me, baby?” He asks again, his smile turning into a smirk when you weakly reply ‘yeah’.
You were sure you’d feel at least a little pathetic with how easy it was for him but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
Especially with the way he looked right now. Chin glistening with your taste, a small victorious grin tugging at his bruised lips as he looked at you.
You knew this wouldn’t be your last orgasm, it never was. After all, Bjorn was very sorry and you were very weak.
#alien romulus#bjorn alien romulus#bjorn alien romulus fanfic#bjorn alien romulus x reader#bjorn x reader#bjorn alien romulus fanfiction#alien romulus fanfic#alien: romulus#spike fearn
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BEOMGYU: “I realized just how much love I have for performing onstage”
TOMORROW X TOGETHER The Star Chapter: SANCTUARY comeback interview
2024.11.12
BEOMGYU says he spent the time he was out with an injury falling even deeper in love with the stage. Clearly, the idol draws on hardship to propel himself forward: Even as he talks about the hard times, a humble smile flashes across his face as he adds, “but it’s okay.” BEOMGYU—who knows that “sometimes you stumble, it’s fine”—knows what it takes to get back on his feet.
Season two of Workout ZZANG is really entertaining, just like season one. You seem really comfortable doing variety shows now. You’re really in your element! (laughs) But you’ve also said that you’re not usually so energetic. BEOMGYU: Workout ZZANG is a physically demanding show. I figured out during the first season that people find it funnier when I’m really struggling. You can just tell by looking at the view count—the episodes where I have the hardest time always got the most views. (laughs) I realized not to play it safe and that I need to put in as much effort as possible. And I think my genuine love of the show makes that possible. I mean, it’s got my name on it. I really love how you’re always quick to make your guests feel welcomed, too. BEOMGYU: Because I’m playing host to them on my own show. (laughs) I thought a lot about how to approach them without making it awkward. I couldn’t do a total deep dive on them, but I tried to be plenty familiar with them. I even watched other variety shows they’d been on to see what kind of things they like to do. HUENINGKAI made a surprise appearance, too. BEOMGYU: It was great to have someone I have perfect back-and-forth with on. He was great at coming up with these quips, probably from filming so much content, like TO DO X TXT. He was a lot of fun. Oh, and the aerobics episode was exhausting, and even though it was really hot and Huening gets hot easily, he was really active during it, which I was grateful for. I was laughing, watching that episode by myself when we were in the US and I showed it to him and said, “Hey, this one’s really funny.” (laughs)
You talked before about the pressure you feel to be good on variety shows. Do you find you’re able to enjoy it a bit more now? BEOMGYU: I was worried right from when we first debuted about what special thing I could do or role I could play to contribute to the group. Thanks to doing Workout ZZANG, I think I’ve established myself as the one who’s good at doing variety shows. I was really grateful they called me back to make a second season, and I could feel that I’ve grown a lot from it. My friends I hadn’t heard from in ages suddenly contacted me to say, “Hey, this is really funny,” and the rest of the group said the same thing and wished me the best with it. I felt really proud—like I was being acknowledged.
In contrast to your overflowing energy when you’re on variety shows, the very calmest side of you comes out when you do BEOMEDIO. BEOMGYU: Part of it’s about showing what I’m like at three in the morning, but the best part is getting to read what MOA sends in. Reading their stories let me visualize and indirectly experience things I haven’t experienced myself. I read them all through quickly and thoroughly before going live. There’s a whole lot of people who write really beautifully. (laughs) A lot of times I feel like I understand them so well that I get choked up reading them. And I’m always thankful for the ones that end with, “I love you, BEOMGYU.”
You said on BEOMEDIO, “When it comes to sharing happiness, the person doing the sharing doesn’t end up with less, and it fills the hearts of the people who receive it, too.” If you could share one thing that made you happy recently, what would it be? BEOMGYU: Honestly, this year’s been filled with a lot of good experiences. I’m making an effort to find happiness even in the smallest things now. There were minor things, like when we had our “Deja Vu” comeback, I felt great because the outfits were beautiful. I helped write the lyrics for two tracks on the latest album, and that made me extremely happy. (laughs) And I’ve been incredibly happy going to my favorite artists’ concerts and doing our own. I’d say there was more happiness than sadness this year.
Even though it’s been a year full of happiness, there was also a painful period for you because of an injury. I can guess how tough that was for you considering you were crying at the end of the concert. BEOMGYU: It was really hard for me mentally. That was right when I was deep into my work. We had this great schedule lined up, and as things started to fall apart, it felt like my mental state fell apart with it. And when we were at the Tokyo Dome, I thought, We’re at this place with this huge audience and I can’t even perform? It killed me. On the other hand, though, it also had a positive impact on me in a way. That was my first time watching the other members perform from offstage, and I could see how amazing and impressive they were. The place was packed, and hearing them cheer, I was like, I’m doing something really amazing—I’m working with some really amazing people. I found it really motivating.
Didn’t it also make you think about how you’re just as amazing when you’re up on that stage? (laughs) BEOMGYU: I thought, I can absolutely slay when I’m onstage, too! (laughs) I think the others were amazing and put on an absolutely flawless performance as just the four of them, but I have certain ways of expressing myself and there’s some breathtaking parts that only I can do, you know? I thought, I don’t even care if my foot gets more broken—I just wanna be onstage. I took performing onstage for granted, but as soon as I wasn’t able to, I realized just how much love I have for it. All the rest of them carried you around when you got hurt at the Tokyo Dome. BEOMGYU: It was really reassuring to me and I was so grateful to them, but in a way I also felt really sorry. When a concert’s coming towards the end, we’ve already used up so much energy that just standing by itself can be hard by that point. I realize how hard it was for them to carry me around under those circumstances.
You said “We’ll Never Change” is the TOMORROW X TOGETHER song that made you cry the most. The practice period for it overlapped with when you were injured. BEOMGYU: It was when we had already learned all the choreo for Japan and were about to start practicing for “We’ll Never Change.” I couldn’t learn any of it because of my injury and was just staying in my room. But I said, “I really want to go to Japan. I want to sing, even if I have to sit,” and I sat in for lessons for the live performance. I felt sort of insignificant sitting at the back just singing while all the other members were dancing, and I felt terrible. I shed a tear or two at the back, but I doubt they would know that. (laughs)
I remember you said you were disappointed that your injury kept you from making the people who came to your concerts into total MOA. It’s really admirable how passionate you’ve always been about converting people into fans. BEOMGYU: I’m in it for the long run. There’s still so much I want to accomplish. Celebrities like BTS, IU, or DAY6 feel like celebs’ celebs. I feel like you have to see them in concert at least once in your life, and I want to receive recognition from my fellow artists and be the kind of person that they want to see in concert, too. I take pride in the quality of our concerts. (laughs) I used to think accomplishments didn’t matter all that much. I thought, as long as MOA’s happy and I’m happy, that’s enough, and that it’s better just to be nice and happy, but lately I feel driven to do even better anyway. (laughs) You showed off your guitar skills at this year’s Weverse Con Festival, which you practiced for until you got blisters on your fingers. Did that come from the same drive? BEOMGYU: It was no easy task. (laughs) I kept up my lessons online when we were in the US and even gave up my vacation to keep learning and practice. I love playing guitar, but it isn’t my specialty. Lots of people are pros at it so I was worried about the thought of me going up onstage and playing it, but I decided to just go for it. It’s difficult to master anything, and practice was the only way for me to make it happen. MOA loved it in the end, so I was proud. (laugh)
You’ve been going to see a lot of other artists perform lately. How does it feel being in the audience after being the one onstage? BEOMGYU: Watching things purely from a fan perspective showed me how joyful the concertgoing experience can be. One time I went to IU’s concert, and sitting in the audience at that huge venue and watching her, I felt how amazing a thing it is to be a fan of somebody and show them your love. I became determined to give MOA not just 100% but 150 or 200% at our concerts. (laughs)
The last track on your new album, The Star Chapter: SANCTUARY, is called “Higher Than Heaven,” and it feels like it perfectly captures TOMORROW X TOGETHER and MOA’s connection, especially the part where you go, “I’ll hold onto eternity, our names / Let’s dream of an endless tomorrow together.” BEOMGYU: I thought those lyrics were absolutely wonderful. “Let’s dream of tomorrow together” sounds so romantic. Since we’re in our sixth year now, I think it’s time we focus on the future more than the past. What I want now is to keep looking toward the future with the other members and with MOA—to see them there tomorrow.
The part where you go, “What you doin’ to me?” in ‘Danger’ is a real standout. It felt like you were using a voice we haven’t heard from you before. BEOMGYU: I practically insisted that the producer give that part to me. (laughs) I said, “I promise I’ll kill this part,” and that clinched it for me. When I was recording it, I had to get the pronunciation and nuance to work together, and do it all in a really deep voice, so it was kind of hard. I couldn’t get the tone right when I looked alert and ready, so I tried making a pose like someone who’s about to start a fight—stuffing my hands in my pockets, tilting my head slightly—and sang it that way. And then I was able to really bring out the right feeling. (laughs) You’ve said before that sometimes a song doesn’t feel quite right until you’ve heard the group singing it, and then it sounds better. Are there any songs on this album that were like that? BEOMGYU: “Forty One Winks.” It’s actually my top pick—I loved it right from the start, in fact. (laughs) I always connect more with the songs after I hear them with the group’s vocals. The demo versions are good, but it really feels like a TOMORROW X TOGETHER song when you hear it with our vocals. You mentioned you were happy to write lyrics for two of the new songs. What was that process like? BEOMGYU: It wasn’t anything special. (laughs) I find it’s best to write lyrics as the thoughts naturally come to you and not overthink it. I worked on “Resist (Not Gonna Run Away)” while we were touring. I was writing like crazy on a three-hour trip to a ryokan in Japan and I think the lyrics came out well.
You said before that you tend to have an ear for what people generally like. How did you feel when you first heard the single “Over The Moon”? BEOMGYU: At first I thought it was good but not lead-single good, but I fell in love with it once I heard it with the group’s vocals. It’s got a feeling that can’t be described in just one word. It’s not just, This one’s upbeat! Or, What a tough image! It’s got a little bit of this and that and everything in it. It feels like “one of our songs” or “TOMORROW X TOGETHER-ish.” (laughs)
You truly have a deep affection for the group. During YEONJUN’s first solo promotions, all the other members sent him a coffee truck and repeatedly visited in person to support him. BEOMGYU: It was the first solo work for any TOMORROW X TOGETHER member, and I knew how hard he worked on it. While the rest of us took it easy, YEONJUN had to be getting ready for it. I really empathize with how much pressure he must’ve felt. As a member of the group, I thought about what I could do and decided all I could do was go support him in person, buy him a little something, and go cheer him on. You truly have a deep affection for the group. During YEONJUN’s first solo promotions, all the other members sent him a coffee truck and repeatedly visited in person to support him. BEOMGYU: It was the first solo work for any TOMORROW X TOGETHER member, and I knew how hard he worked on it. While the rest of us took it easy, YEONJUN had to be getting ready for it. I really empathize with how much pressure he must’ve felt. As a member of the group, I thought about what I could do and decided all I could do was go support him in person, buy him a little something, and go cheer him on.
You recently wished on a sky lantern in Taiwan for the people you know to be happy, not for yourself. BEOMGYU: I really just hope that everyone I love and everyone who loves me is healthy and happy. I think it’s always like that. I’m more concerned with others being happy because of me than I am for my own happiness. You can sacrifice or give up things and still feel like, Okay, as long as you’re happy, I’m fine. It doesn’t mean I’m not happy. (laughs) I can take care of my own happiness, honestly. That’s why I wrote that. You have to be happy yourself in order to share that happiness with others.
If you were going to write down a wish not for the people close to you but just for yourself, what would it be? BEOMGYU: There isn’t really anything I wish for. I’m content with who I am right now. (laughs)
#tomorrow x together#txt#241112#weverse maagazine#beomgyu#choi beomgyu#weverse#the star chapter#sanctuary
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hi, my darling!! can i request “You getting so flustered is one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen.” with evan buckley?
i have been obsessed with him for so long (lmao as if it isn't obvious-) and i NEED more of him!!
"Honey Honey!"
Can I kiss your brain? I love this!!!!
🩷 "Nuestra Canción" send me some cute fluff prompts for characters that I write, x reader or my OCs are allowed.
Word count: 560
The prompt: "You getting flustered is one of the cutest things I've ever seen."
A/N: Never written for x reader before so here goes nothing. Legitimately don't know where this came from, deviated a bit from the prompt btw, I had a lot of fun writing this!
Warnings: female!reader, tooth rotting fluff, I totally didn't have Mamma Mia! on repeat while writing this (I'm lying so much), domesticity, curls are here, reader is a part of the 118, a curse word or two, Buck and reader live together, Buck calls his S/O "Baby" and other pet names, Buck is shirtless (yes, suffer), reader's favorite food is grilled cheese (if it's not, I'm sorry), kissing does happen, not beta read
Banner belongs to @/cafekitsune
Do not repost anywhere else or use it to train AI! This is my work! My own brain created this. Don't be a plagiarizer!
Here we go! Safe under the cut!
Buck could've sworn he was the luckiest son of a bitch in the whole world. His girlfriend was insanely good looking. And her music taste was impeccable. Buck could stare at her all day and never grow tired of her. Yeah, to say he was down bad was a major understatement. But who could blame him, when you looked like a goddess?
Buck was making dinner when you came in from a shift at the 118, it had been a simple 12 hour overtime shift for some extra money, but it had been so uneventful, it took a toll on you. The utter anxiety for the bell that never rang that entire shift. You kick off your work boots by the door, putting your keys in the dish by the door and putting your bag on the floor, you'll get it later. You unbutton your uniform shirt and tug it off, leaving you in a white undershirt. "I'm home!" You call out as you walk into the kitchen of the loft, watching your boyfriend cook. Buck turns around, in your tiredness, you didn't notice that Buck was shirtless and he hadn't gelled his curls back. Was he trying to kill you? Well even if he was you were sure, you'd die really happy. "Oh, hey baby, I'm making your favorite. Grilled cheese." Buck says with a smile, it was adorable. So attentive. "Mmmm, I love you. You're the best." You tell him with as much appreciation you could muster. Your nerves were shot to hell and you just wanted to eat and sleep. Buck takes notice of this and guides you to the couch, wraps you in a blanket and walks to the kitchen, leaving you confused. "Buck? What are you doing?" You ask between a laugh. Buck puts the grilled cheese on a plate and comes back into the living room with the plate and hands it to you. "Eat. Wanna watch Mamma Mia?" Buck asks you, knowing it was one of your favorites. You nod as you bite into the grilled cheese, moaning in appreciation. Buck smiles at you and kisses your forehead. Buck puts the movie on and sits beside you on the couch, placing you in his lap and cuddling you. He was like a personal space heater. But right now you don't care about anything except food and Buck. The movie starts and you finish your food up after a few minutes. You get up and place your dirty dishes in the dishwasher before running up the loft stairs to grab your pajamas. You were walking down the stairs while adjusting your Buck's shirt when the beach scene came on. No matter how many times you watched it, it still made you flush like a little girl. Buck picks up on that. "Are you blushing?" He teases and "N-no!" You stammer, before playfully tossing a pillow at him. "You wound me, darling!" Buck says dramatically while holding his hand over his heart. "Oh shush, you're fine. Plus you deserve it for walking around shirtless!" You reply before walking towards him. "You getting flustered is probably the cutest thing I've ever seen." Buck says as you stand in between his legs while he looks at you with those cerulean blue eyes and you try not to melt. "Oh shut up, Buckley!" You tell him before kissing him.
The end!
I hope you enjoyed it!
#morghen's mutuals#🩷nuestra canción#iliketopgun's 100 followers event#evan buckley x reader#fluff prompts#evan buckley fluff#911 show#911#9 1 1 x reader#iliketopgun writes#x reader#evan buckley imagine#my work
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@liminalmemories21 - this isn't exactly what you asked for but:
Abby C. 8:51 PM: So how'd it go? With the talking?
Buck stares at the message. Stares at the milk frother sitting in his counter, and the candlesticks he'd really considered dropping off the side of his upper balcony, ten minutes ago. (He's a firefighter, he knows how that ends. But, like. Still)
Bad, he texts back. So bad. But he also won't give me my sweatshirt back and I know he has it. Any sage advice?
It's a little weird to be texting her. She'd been one of the first people he'd ever talked to consistently on the phone, and he'd grown to enjoy it, grown to appreciate that voice in his ear.
Abby texts back immediately: I'm not entirely sure I know what that means. He actually LIKED you.
Buck can feel the buzzing under his skin, the rush of adrenaline at remembering Tommy not only not denying he'd loved Buck, but admitting off-hand that he still did.
It means I'm getting my man back, Buck sends, and then stares at the slippers he can see poking out from the right side of the bed.
His phone rings.
"You know," Abby starts, before Buck can so much as greet her. "I spent a long time beating myself up for not seeing this as a sign, but that's not the point."
"What... is the point?"
Abby chuckles. She sounds good. Happy. Buck is far enough removed from it to feel glad for her, and jealous of her, and then he's rolling right back around to being fucking livid that Abby and Tommy had both run. Different reasons, same result. A first of Buck's that'd just walked away.
"He used to watch movies with my mom constantly. All the terrible schlock that I couldn't stand - Hallmark movies, and D-Lister rom coms, all those trite based on true events Lifetime shows."
Buck nods. Waits for her to continue.
She doesn't.
"I'm not picking up what you're dropping down."
"He and my mom would just critique them all the way through. Just tear them to shreds. What was unrealistic, what was just plain stupid. She - mom was never more lucid than when she and Tommy were bemoaning the lack of reality in those movies."
"Listen, I already know asking him to move in with me was a dumb idea. I'm the himbo, remember?"
Abby pauses. "...that's what he called you?"
"Apparently all your mutual friends did."
Abby sighs. "The point is, Buck. They liked watching them because they liked talking about what real relationships were actually like. What happened after a curtain close kiss, how much a couple was gonna fight over the financial sustainability of a Christmas themed donut shop, what the fiance that got left behind in the big city was gonna do now that they were finally free of the person who'd spent the holiday season losing their entire brains. Tommy's a realist. He wants to be stopped before he gets on the plane, but he wants to be stopped because you already have a ten step plan to make things work. And he's terrified of giving too much of himself away to someone who thinks he shits rainbows and puppies and hasn't reckoned with the fact that he's just as screwed up as the rest of us."
"You swear more than I remember."
Abby laughs. " But you see my point?"
Buck doesn't want to. But he does. "Well, I definitely don't think he's perfect anymore."
"And you still love him." She says it like she knows. She says it like she'd once expected to spend a life with Tommy Kinard.
"And I still love him," Buck acknowledges, and they both drift into silence. It's comfortable. Easy. He sort of misses being able to talk to her about shit like this.
"Call me if you need anything, Buck."
Buck hangs up the phone with a million new, vaguely more hopeful thoughts swirling around in his brain.
Twenty minutes later he texts her one more time: This is the only sex thing you're getting from me - that thing he does with your nipples? What the fuck?
Abby C. 9:22 PM: I taught him that. You're welcome.
Tommy ignores the knock at his door. He's in day three pajamas and the only person who might make the effort to check in on him is his exes best friend. Which.
The knocking continues.
It's getting louder.
There's a Kings game on in the background and he's been elbow deep in the Jeep manual he'd finally cracked open in some sort of weird, fucked up pattern of mourning.
Tommy's never gonna buy a fucking Jeep. He hates them. You own one for more than five years and more than half the parts are replacement parts.
He's been staring at a diagram of the timing belt for half an hour, at least. The last thing he remembers about the game is Kuemper letting in three goals on five shots and somehow the Kings are up two, now, and there's still 25 minutes of game time left.
Tommy reaches for the remote. Turns the volume up.
The knocking returns less than a minute later.
---
There's a box of odds and ends tucked under the table in his entryway. He avoids looking at it. He knows there are a few things missing from it and he really doesn't want to examine what he'll have to do to avoid giving it to Eddie tonight. He cut the cords, he shouldn't be lingering watching the frayed edges sway in the wind, clutching his line like there's anything braced on the other side of it.
Evan's oldest, softest LAFD hoodie, the one that's technically too small for both of them but has stretched shockingly evenly and is definitely not sitting unwashed at the bottom of Tommy's laundry basket. The program from a recital of Denny's they'd stopped by to support him for, on their way out of town for a long weekend. Evan's stupid keto bread and the milk frother he'd left behind three months ago and never bothered to grab because he had more than one.
Whoever is at his door is still fucking knocking, and suddenly Tommy doesn't feel like being polite. He'll shove the box in Eddie's arms and tell him to fuck off and close the last few remaining open doors he has to this.
Only when he swings the door wide it's not Eddie on the other side, and the box nearly takes out whatever Evan - Buck, Jesus Christ - has in his own arms.
Not a Tommy box - too small for all the shit that he'd left behind. He misses the house slippers that had had a permanent spot tucked under the left side of the bed.
Tommy flinches, reels away, tries to shove the box away before Buck can see its contents.
"What are you doing here?" Even tone. No quiver in his voice. He's been called rude and dismissive for less.
Buck scowls. Hefts the rectangular dish in his hands and shoves past Tommy before Tommy can blink.
It's silly to say he chases after him, down the hallway towards the kitchen, but he's not exactly following along behind at a casual leisurely pace.
The glass pan slams down on his kitchen counter and Buck spends a minute staring at the calendar he was only getting two months out of because he couldn't look at the one with all Buck's notes penned in anymore.
"Wow," Buck says, and shifts his weight awkwardly.
"What are you -?"
"Jee and I made you birthday cupcakes," Buck says. His voice is hard. Angry. Hurt. "Happy birthday, asshole."
---
He cracks the lid and there are only three cupcakes inside. Tommy forgets himself. Raises a brow, amusement rolling over him pleasantly, prepared to tease him, but then he catches the set of Buck's legs and the curl of his mouth and the tight way his arm tucks itself back in against his belly, a protective gesture that reminds Tommy very effectively what this is.
"Why?" Tommy wonders aloud, and Evan's scowl deepens.
Buck's scowl.
God.
"We've been planning it for weeks." Something flashes across his eyes before he schools his features. "Jee made me promise to bring you some."
"She must not be a skilled baker," Tommy jokes. "If these are the only ones that made it."
Evan's expression twists. "I ate most of them."
The frosting looks fresh. No creases in the paper cup holding them together.
"I had to make a new batch of frosting because I used some of it for -." He cuts himself off. Looks like he'd like to throw it in Tommy's face but can't quite force himself to hurt Tommy.
It hurts as much as he'd expected, anyway.
The world is a small place. It's not the first time he's had to speak to an ex when he didn't want to. It's never pleasant.
This is worse. The cut and run is supposed to give him time.
Evan Buckley has been an ache behind his ribcage for months, now, long before he'd made that final decision. He'd known it was too little too late. Buck's gonna be the shadow other men see behind his eyes for years.
Buck's apparently found and slept with someone within the week and a half span from Tommy walking out to his sad shitty mopey birthday.
That he'd forgotten about.
Tommy leans in. Picks up a cupcake. Licks a stripe through the frosting and makes a face when he realizes it's buttercream.
"The ones you were supposed to get had the whipped cream one you like," Buck says, accusingly.
That somehow stings just a little bit extra.
Tommy pulls back the paper, takes a bite. There's raspberry filling inside, and Tommy can feel tears prickling at the edges of his eyes, because when he'd told Evan about how his grandma baked he'd been thinking of Evan being a grandparent, the kind of shit he'd forbidden himself from imagining with anyone he was dating years ago.
"Thank you," he manages, and Buck frowns.
"He thought the whipped cream was too sweet." And Tommy probably deserves this but he's not particularly in the mood.
"Cut it out, Buck."
Buck rolls his jaw. "I just figured you'd wanna know how it's going. Maybe I could tally up the hookups for you, count them all up by gender and stamina and opinions on how I should feel and act and fall for someone. Find out if I'm actually gay enough to be a man's last."
---
The rest of the cupcake kind of collapses and oozes as Tommy smacks it down on the counter. He takes thirty seconds to pull the other two cupcakes out before he's grabbing the too-large fake Pyrex and turning heel. The keto bread goes in the pan. Then the milk frother.
Tommy yanks the recital program off the fridge and tosses it in the trash.
Buck almost looks triumphant.
"The box under the side table has the rest. You can see yourself out."
He actually does exactly as he's told, and Tommy listens to his footsteps drift off, shoulders hunched in and the breath tight in his throat. He'd been cruel, it was only fair Buck got a few final kicks in.
Tommy sucks in a breath and blinks away the moisture at the edges of his vision.
The footsteps take a heel turn at the side table and turn right back around.
"This isn't everything."
Tommy half expects some panned comment about how Tommy's got his heart - the kind of silly shit he'd say to a dead outlaw.
"My sweatshirt," Buck says, and Tommy freezes.
He could lie. He could pretend he had no idea where it was. Claim he didn't remember it even being here, because that particular piece of clothing did have a tendency to travel.
He doesn't fucking want to hand that one over.
Buck smirks, like he's caught the crack, and is looking for ways to exploit it.
"I own my own house!" Tommy says, and it's a terrible launching point but Buck latches on.
"You just left, Tommy! I know I jumped the gun, Tommy, but you didn't even - you just left! I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry I didn't know I was into men until you. I'm sorry you had to be my first, I'm sure that must have been such a burden for you."
"That's not fair."
"You didn't even give me a chance. That was - I'm so angry with you, Tommy. I'm so fucking mad."
"I know."
"But that's what you planned for, right? That's - you ripped the bandaid, Tommy, except there's a whole fucking untreated stab wound right underneath and it's still bleeding, Tommy."
"Did you even make this round of cupcakes with your niece?" It's better to keep his family's names out of his mouth. Just keep those ties cut.
Buck looks livid. "No, you idiot, I whipped up a tiny batch of this recipe just for the excuse to see you and - and tell you what a stupid, awful coward you are."
"That's not f-." He isn't sure whether Buck is being facetious about the small batch thing or not. He doesn't have any time to think about it.
"My sister and Chim are having another baby. Bobby and Athena are probably gonna host Christmas this year. Eddie shaved off the mustache and he's, like, dancing now, I guess. Hen and Karen are good for the first time in -." He shakes his head. Stares at Tommy. Tommy can't quite hide from that gaze. "We were good, Tommy. We were - you loved me."
He'd never said the words. Neither had Evan, but they'd both known. Both felt it. Tommy let it go too far, did it scared for longer than he usually would.
"It's not like that just went away when I walked out, Evan," Tommy hisses, and then regrets it immediately.
Evan has spent most of this visit pushing, pressing, digging fingers into the wound to make it hurt.
Evan goes silent now, reeling back a little. He seems shocked that Tommy had admitted it.
"I want you to go," Tommy says. "I need you to go, Buck."
It was the right dagger the first time, but apparently it's only effective once.
"I love you too, you know." His voice is soft. Tommy can't meet his eye. "And I hate you. I hate you even though I know that's what you wanted but I love you too much to not hate you out of spite."
Tommy knows if he caves it's done. He's signing himself over to whatever fucked thing will end them a week, a month, five years, two decades from now.
"Go home, Buck. Hate me there."
---
He goes in for the kill.
"I called Abby, two nights ago."
Right for the jugular. No survivors.
"She laughed for like twenty minutes, and then she tried to get me to chat about our sex life for comparison, and then she was shocked silent for a full minute when I wouldn't." Because Evan had always been a little too open about those details. "She also told me she forgave you but she doesn't think you ever forgave yourself."
Tommy agrees. For all that they'd been terrible for each other, they'd known how the hell to take care of one another like no one's business.
"I want you to go," Tommy says, steady, quiet, nearly a snark for how deep his voice goes to hide the tremor in it.
Buck cocks a hip against the doorframe. "I want my sweatshirt."
The breath that escapes him is shaky, but her think he hides most of it behind the hand over his face, the finger pinched at the bridge of his nose.
"I can't do this."
"Exactly how many men and women do I have to fuck before you believe the future I'm looking at is with you?"
"All of them! None! It was a stupid thing to say and it's not what I meant and I can't do this."
Buck spins on his heel. Grabs the box he'd set aside and hefts it up into his arms. "I'm coming back for my sweatshirt," he says. "You let me know whether you want to talk about the data points of the sexuality spreadsheet or about us."
"There is no us, Buck." His voice sounds defeated even to himself.
"If that was true you'd just give me the stupid sweater and be done."
Tommy sits in silence. He does not get up to retrieve the hoodie. Buck is still angry, but his smile is wide and bashful.
Tommy listens to his footsteps trail down the hall, towards the door, out of it. He hears the Jeep's ignition catch, the wheels roll off the drive.
He realizes he'd left the goddamn Jeep manual open on the timing belt page, right there on his side table where he'd pointed out the things he wanted Evan to take to clear him from his life.
---
There is someone knocking at his door.
Tommy doesn't quite ignore it.
He hid the sweatshirt in one of his toolbox drawers when Evan texted him this morning to let him know he'd be over with a six pack and a pot of chili.
There's a zero percent chance Evan's getting that sweatshirt back, tonight.
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So, ehat was your take of the podcast of these two old friends? I thought it was lovely and different than his other podcasts. She gets him to relax.
Now, what about the recreation of the picture they said they would do?:) I think they might have talked about the picture but not when the photoshoot would happen. Xmas is around the corner. Come on guys, give the Fandom a merry David-Gillian gift of all time! It's been a dry spell without your loving craziness. Hike up those stockings on your little legs, G, and hop onto those DD shoulders.
It'd be funny if they did, wouldn't it? It'd also be funny if they recreated it in a way that wouldn't hurt either of their backs, shoulders, or knees, too. XDDD
I had an excellent time with the podcast! It confirmed every single one of my suspicions, theories, and guestimations of their friendship: their personalities, their focuses, their dynamic then, their dynamic now, etc. It was refreshing. It was, for lack of a better word, simple: the facts were the facts were the facts, and there wasn't anything big or grand to be made of their interactions, past or present.
I liked hearing them talk over each other. I liked that both admitted to already butting heads in Season 1. I liked that both admitted they'd never thought to trade childhood stories, or cross their personal lives over.
Most of all, I loved their candor: David admitting he felt dumped in the Revival, and that Gillian didn't know and felt sorry in retrospect. That Gillian didn't feel dumped during the first run. That Gillian thought the Revival's story line reduced her character, especially the ending. That David felt trapped and villainized over the pay gap issue; and only later learned his pay wasn't due to his merit so much as internal favoritism. That Gillian now understands and feels for his pain. That David still feels the sting of Vancouver hating him and being forced out of rehab anonymity, and all the pain he gathered from both incidences. That Gillian admitted she doesn't process shame, just stays too busy to have to face it. That David felt comfortable to say that was unhealthy, and that she felt comfortable enough to hum in agreement. That both know their children have to fail, because they would fail their own children if they stopped those failures. That David tried to drill into his son that he's a miserable person and nothing is as it seems; but that that perspective hadn't worked. That Gillian feels motherhood is the most fulfilling thing for her, yet chooses her work over and over (again, staying too busy to feel shame.) That DD knew as early as Season 1 that Chris intended for Mulder and Scully to be an end goal-- asking CC if he wanted to send GA and himself to couples' counseling as their characters. That GA forgot and laughed over the memory. That Gillian arrived late after he offered her a ride on his private aircraft; then wrote him a beautiful letter, on the plane, instead of saying those words in person. That he marveled she hadn't gone insane from the pressure. That she no longer feels the need to run from Scully's legacy. That both admitted that communication, though important, was non-existent during that time in their lives.
There are so many good bits. But I have two takeaways:
They have the same frenetic drive, the same "crazy" as David calls it; but I can see why it drove a wedge between them (and could, now): they wouldn't be able to tolerate that same freneticism in each other in large doses. (Hence, why they didn't speak for weeks while on set, and were already exchanging "blows" in Season 1.)
Most importantly, they were two old friends who purposefully dug in and rediscovered new things about each other. The camaraderie was different: settled, more "in-character" to how I think they talk when David doesn't feel like he has to perform (though there was a bit of that) and Gillian doesn't feel uneasy, or anxious, or "watched."
In short: they felt wholly the same, but in a new way. :DDDDD
#asks#anon#I dearly loved this podcast#yes because it confirmed my biases of course#but also because they were willing to dig deeper with each other#old friends sparking new conversations ON PURPOSE#that-- to me-- is touching
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