#i went back and replayed this part so many times. i had to share it lol

[cherryxbooo]

Nothing lasts forever

Summary: Being a dedicated McLaren engineer with a cold demeanor means one thing: judgment. Trusting and opening up to a certain driver leads to a bigger mistake.

Reader x Oscar Piastri

Genre: Angst

I had always dreamed of working for McLaren.

The team’s history, the legacy, the championships, everything about it had captivated me since I was a kid.

I’d spent years idolizing the drivers, the engineers, the people who made it all happen.

And then, there I was.

Standing in the paddock, a part of the machine I had once only watched from the sidelines.

The air felt thick with history, with success, with the roar of engines and the buzz of anticipation.

It was everything I had ever wanted.

But, as much as I tried to convince myself it was everything I had dreamed of, there was something that gnawed at me.

There was an ache deep in my chest that no amount of triumph could soothe.

I had arrived, but the reality? The reality was a constant weight on my shoulders that I wasn’t prepared for.

I’d imagined walking into the garage, feeling the excitement of the team, and being welcomed as one of their own.

But instead, there were whispers.

Quiet, cutting whispers that followed me like a shadow.

I could feel the eyes on my back, the scrutiny, the judgment.

It didn’t matter how many hours I put in, how many sacrifices I made.

The rumors about me spread faster than the engine roar on the track.

I wasn’t the “right” kind of person.

Too focused, too ambitious, too cold.

Too much of everything that didn’t fit their ideal.

And it stung.

Every word. Every glance. Every offhand comment.

I tried to tell myself to ignore it. That they were wrong, that I had a place here because I earned it.

But each passing day, each race weekend, it felt harder to believe that.

The weight of their expectations, their judgments, it was like suffocating under a blanket of misunderstanding.

The worst part was when the comments came from the people I thought I could trust.

From the people I worked alongside. The people I shared ideas with.

How many times had I stayed late, just to make sure everything was perfect? Just to be sure I was giving it my all?

And yet, it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

The world outside the track didn’t care about my dedication.

They cared about who I was, who they thought I was, and who I wasn’t.

It felt like every tiny detail of my life was scrutinized, dissected, and criticized.

So, I built walls.

Higher and higher, until they were towering around me. I kept my head down, kept my focus laser-sharp, kept to myself.

No one was going to see the cracks forming inside.

No one would ever know how often I lay awake at night, replaying everything, questioning my worth, wondering if all those whispers were true.

Was I too cold? Too intense? Too much of something that no one could accept?

Could they see me as I truly was, or was I just a puzzle piece that didn’t fit the picture they had in mind?

Then came Oscar.

The new guy, the fresh-faced rookie with that infectious energy.

He had that spark of hope, that belief in things I had lost along the way. He didn’t see the walls I built.

He didn’t seem to care about the rumors. To him, I was just another teammate. Another person to work with.

He didn’t judge me for how I carried myself, didn’t dismiss me for my focus. Instead, he laughed with me.

He challenged me in the best ways, without making me feel like an outsider.

For a while, it felt like maybe, just maybe, there was someone who didn’t see me through that lens of judgment.

Someone who saw me.

Oscar didn’t care about my reputation or the harsh words spoken behind my back.

He saw the work, the effort. And for the first time in a long time, I felt... like I mattered.

We started talking more.

Late-night debriefs, sitting alone after everyone else had gone to bed, dissecting the race, talking about what went wrong and what we could have done better.

I listened to him, really listened.

He told me about his journey to Formula 1, about his struggles to prove himself, about his dreams.

And in turn, I opened up. I shared my frustrations. My doubts. I talked about the battles I fought every day just to be here, just to be seen.

I never expected him to understand, but he did.

He didn’t judge.

He listened.

One night, after a particularly brutal race weekend, we found ourselves alone in the garage.

The others had already left for their rooms, and the garage was eerily quiet, save for the hum of the equipment.

I was staring at the car, my mind a whirlwind of calculations and what-ifs.

Oscar walked up to me, leaning against the tool chest, arms crossed, his usual easy smile softened.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle.

I didn’t turn to him immediately.

I didn’t trust myself to speak.

“I just... I just can’t stop thinking about what went wrong. There were so many little things that could’ve been fixed. If I had just—”

“Y/n,” he interrupted, his voice firm but not harsh.

“You’re one of the best at what you do. Don’t let one bad weekend define you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “Easier said than done, right?”

He chuckled softly, pushing himself off the tool chest and walking closer to me.

“I get it. But you can’t carry that weight on your own. You’ve got a team here. Me included.”

The sincerity in his voice hit me harder than I expected.

I finally looked up at him, and for the first time, I saw not just the rookie but someone who genuinely cared.

Someone who wanted to help. It was almost too much to take in.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he added quietly, almost as if he was afraid of scaring me away.

I swallowed hard, feeling something stir inside me, something I hadn’t let myself feel in years.

Hope.

I nodded, unsure of how to respond. “I... I know. It’s just hard.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his eyes softening.

“But you don’t have to have all the answers, all the time. Sometimes, it’s okay to lean on others.”

His voice lowered.

“Especially if that means leaning on me.”

I felt a warmth bloom in my chest, a sensation I hadn’t allowed myself to experience in so long.

Maybe it was okay to let someone in.

Maybe Oscar was the one person who could help me see things differently.

The next few days were full of more small moments that made my walls tremble.

We found ourselves in those quiet spaces between races, just talking.

I’d laugh at his dry humor, and he’d listen as I explained things I thought only made sense in my head.

He didn’t rush me. He didn’t expect anything from me except honesty.

One evening, as we sat on the pit wall, watching the sunset after another long practice session, he nudged me gently with his shoulder.

“You know, for someone who’s supposed to be the ice queen,” he said with a teasing grin,

“you’re actually kind of fun to hang out with.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips.

“I’m not that bad, am I?”

He raised an eyebrow, pretending to think it over.

“Maybe just a little. But that’s what makes it fun.” He nudged me again, this time making me laugh out loud.

It was a soft, genuine moment.

And for the first time, I allowed myself to feel it, really feel it.

The connection we were building was something I didn’t expect, something that was slowly chipping away at the walls I had so carefully crafted.

Oscar was breaking through, piece by piece. And it scared me. But in the best way possible.

But nothing lasts forever right?

The morning sun was just beginning to rise, casting long, amber-hued shadows over the paddock.

The air was still cool, with a slight breeze stirring the flags and team banners fluttering gently in the wind.

The hum of the pit lane was just starting to pick up as teams were making their final preparations for the day’s race.

Oscar and Lando stood by the car, both immersed in the quiet but urgent task of fine-tuning the machine that would carry them into the competition.

Oscar, his focus unwavering, leaned over the rear wing, adjusting a setting on the aerodynamics.

His fingers moved with practiced precision, checking measurements, recalibrating.

He didn’t take his eyes off the components as he made the final tweaks.

The team relied on him to deliver his best performance, and he wouldn’t let them down.

Lando, on the other hand, leaned casually against the car, arms crossed, watching Oscar work.

There was an easy-going air about him, a stark contrast to the intensity radiating from Oscar.

Lando's eyes followed his teammate’s every move with a small, amused smile on his lips.

It wasn’t that Lando wasn’t focused; it was just that he had a different way of working, more laid back, like everything was under control even if it wasn’t.

After a few moments of silence, Lando spoke, breaking the quiet concentration.

“I have to admit,” he said, his tone light but thoughtful, “Y/n’s not as bad as I thought.”

Oscar glanced up from his task, a small, surprised smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah? I’ve noticed that too. She’s... unique.”

Lando chuckled, nudging him playfully with his elbow.

“Unique, huh? You mean cold and distant?”

he teased, a smirk tugging at his mouth.

Oscar’s expression softened, and he straightened up from the car, wiping his hands on his overalls as he met Lando’s eyes.

His smile faltered for a second, but only for a moment.

“She’s not cold,” he said, his voice quieter, more serious.

“She’s just... guarded. And I think once you get to know her, you’ll see a different side.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, and took a step toward him, crossing his arms as he leaned in slightly.

“Really? You’ve spent a lot of time with her, huh? I didn’t think you’d put up with her cold demeanor. I mean, how do you even manage it? She’s like a brick wall sometimes.”

Oscar’s fingers tightened on the tools he was holding, but he didn’t let the tension show on his face.

He took a breath before speaking. “It’s not like that. She’s actually very sweet once you get past the walls she’s built.”

His voice softened, as if speaking about something fragile.

“There’s more to her than people realize. People don’t take the time to see that.”

Lando frowned, narrowing his eyes as he stared at Oscar, clearly unconvinced.

“Sweet? Dude, you’ve got to be kidding. I don’t know if I’m buying that. I mean, have you seen how she reacts to people? Most of the time, it’s like she’s trying to push everyone away. She doesn't smile, doesn't really talk unless she has to.”

Oscar hesitated, the flicker of unease in his chest threatening to break through, but he pushed it down.

He didn’t want to let Lando’s skepticism affect his thoughts about Y/n.

He could feel something real there, something that couldn’t be captured by just looking at the surface.

“I think you’re wrong,” Oscar said, his voice firm, though the unease lingered at the edge of his words.

“She’s just... been through a lot. I can see it in her eyes. She’s been hurt before, but she’s not who people think she is. She just needs someone to understand her.”

Lando’s face darkened slightly, his expression hardening as he stepped closer, his voice lowering to a more serious tone.

“You’re really going to let her fool you, huh? What if she’s just using you, Oscar? What if she’s trying to win you over for something, like fame, or to get information out of you? People like her, they’re good at manipulating others. They know how to get what they want, and you might just be her latest target.”

Oscar’s pulse quickened at Lando’s words. His grip on the tools tightened until his knuckles went white.

His initial instinct was to push back, to tell Lando that he didn’t know Y/n like he did, but the words hit a little too close to home.

He tried to control the rising heat in his chest, not wanting to let it spill over.

“No,” Oscar finally said, his voice quieter, though the defensive edge was still there.

“I don’t believe that. She’s not like that. You don’t know her the way I do.”

Lando’s gaze shifted, his brow furrowing as he leaned in closer, his tone shifting to something more insistent, more urgent.

“Come on, man. I’m just looking out for you. You’re still new here. She’s smart, and she’s got a way of getting people to like her, but it’s all for a reason. Maybe she’s just trying to get close to you for some advantage. I’m just trying to warn you before you get too deep in. You should keep an eye on her.”

Oscar felt a tightening in his chest, a flicker of doubt threatening to cloud his judgment.

He wanted to trust Y/n, to believe that the connection they had was real, but Lando’s words were like a seed planted in the back of his mind, something he couldn’t ignore.

He shook his head, trying to shake off the feeling.

“I don’t think I need to be worried about her,” Oscar replied, his voice firming again, though his hands were still clenched.

“She’s been nothing but professional with me, and I trust her. I’m not going to let something like this ruin that.”

Lando sighed, his posture relaxing just a fraction, though his concern was still evident.

“I hope you’re right, mate,” he said, his voice quiet but serious.

“Just keep your eyes open. You might be seeing things through rose-colored glasses right now, but trust me, people like her don’t change easily. Don’t let yourself get hurt.”

Before Oscar could respond, the team was called for practice, the urgency of the situation pushing the conversation aside.

Both drivers were pulled into the whirlwind of final checks and preparations for the race.

But even as they walked toward the garage, Oscar couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that Lando’s words had left behind.

He tried to push it to the back of his mind, but the doubt lingered, simmering beneath the surface.

He caught a glimpse of Y/n as they made their way to their cars, and for a moment, he found himself wondering if maybe, just maybe, Lando was right.

Could she really be hiding something?

Or was it just the fear of getting too close to someone who had built walls around herself for so long?

Oscar didn’t know, but what he did know was that he wanted to figure it out, he couldn’t just dismiss her like that.

He took a deep breath and forced the thought away.

The race was about to begin, and there was no room for distractions now.

But as they took their positions for practice, Oscar couldn’t shake the lingering doubt that now danced at the edge of his mind.

Later that afternoon,

after the chaos of the post-race debrief, I was given a simple task, one that I had done countless times before.

I was asked to grab some papers from the drivers’ room that had been left behind after a last-minute meeting with Oscar.

It's an easy. Simple. Routine. Right?

I pushed the door open to the driver's room, the quiet atmosphere inside making me feel alone for some reason.

I started sifting through the papers on the desk, the disarray mirroring the mess in my head.

Coffee cups, race schedules, notes from the meeting, all scattered in a haphazard way.

Then, my hand brushed against something, and before I could react, I heard the unmistakable sound of a phone hitting the floor.

A loud thud.

I froze.

Oscar’s phone.

My heart skipped a beat as I bent down quickly, my fingers shaking slightly as I scooped it up.

I checked it over anxiously, my mind racing.

It seemed fine, no cracks, no shattered screen. Just a small scratch on the corner, nothing that couldn’t be fixed.

I let out a quiet sigh of relief and, for a split second, considered just leaving it there on the desk.

Maybe pretending it hadn’t happened would be easier than facing him.

But before I could even make the decision, the door swung open.

Oscar stood in the doorway, his gaze immediately locking onto the phone in my hand.

His eyes flicked from the phone to my face, his expression shifting in rapid succession, surprise, confusion, and then something darker, something colder that made my stomach churn.

“What are you doing with my phone?”

His voice was tight, almost accusing.

I felt a lump form in my throat.

“I—I'm sorry, I knocked it over, and I was just checking to see if it was okay.”

His eyes didn’t soften. If anything, they hardened.

His jaw clenched as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click that felt like the final barrier between us.

“Why were you going through it?”

His words cut through the air like a knife, and I could feel my pulse racing in my ears.

“I wasn’t going through it,” I quickly explained, trying to remain calm despite the panic rising in my chest.

“I swear, Oscar. I wasn’t—”

But he wasn’t listening. He cut me off, his voice rising with frustration.

“I just don’t get it,” he muttered, more to himself than to me.

“Lando was right, wasn’t he? You’re just trying to get something out of me. Trying to manipulate me.”

I stood frozen, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut.

My head spun as I tried to process what he was saying.

“What? What are you talking about?”

Oscar’s gaze was cold, distant, like a stranger’s.

He took a step closer, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“I know what Lando said,” he spat, his words laced with frustration.

“You’re trying to win me over, aren’t you? Maybe you just want to get close to me for some advantage, information, fame, whatever.”

Each word stung like a slap. I felt my chest tighten, the weight of the accusations suffocating me.

I had spent so long building trust with Oscar, trying to make him see the real me beneath the walls I had built.

But now, it was as if all that effort had meant nothing.

“Oscar, I don’t know what he’s told you, but I swear, that’s not it. You have to believe me,”

I pleaded, my voice cracking despite my best efforts to keep it steady.

But his gaze hardened further, like an impenetrable wall had been built between us.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore, Y/n. I thought I understood you. But now… I don’t know.”

The words cut deeper than anything he had said before. I felt them settle in my chest like a heavy stone, each one sinking further into the pit of my heart.

The silence that followed felt unbearable. Neither of us moved, the air thick with unspoken words and hurt.

Finally, Oscar broke the silence with a sharp exhale, his frustration palpable.

“I don’t want to argue with you right now.”

And just like that, he turned and left, slamming the door behind him with a finality that echoed in my chest.

The sound of the door closing felt like the door between us had been shut permanently.

I stood there for a long moment, frozen in place.

My mind raced, but the only thing that kept repeating in my head was how completely shattered I felt.

It wasn’t just the argument, or the mistrust, it was the way everything I had worked for, everything I had built with Oscar, had just come crumbling down in an instant.

And for the first time in a long time, I was completely alone.

Hours had passed since the argument, and the weight of it sat heavily on my chest.

The tension between Oscar and me still lingered in the air, suffocating and sharp.

I had kept to myself in the aftermath, buried in data and numbers, trying to escape the clamor of my own thoughts.

I needed the distraction, anything to keep my mind from spiraling further into the uncertainty of everything that had unfolded between us.

But as I walked down the narrow hallway, heading toward the garage, I heard the familiar voices of Lando and Oscar in the distance.

Their voices cut through the stillness of the hallway, and without meaning to, I found myself slowing down, drawn to the conversation like a moth to a flame.

I tried to stay calm, but something in my gut told me I wouldn’t like what I was about to hear.

“…She’s just so cold,”

Lando’s voice was low but carried a certain finality, like he was trying to convince Oscar of something he already believed.

“I’ve tried to get close to her, man, but it’s like she doesn’t even care. She’s got this wall up that I can’t get through. It’s exhausting and childish.”

Oscar’s response was quieter, but still audible.

There was a hesitation in his voice that I hadn’t expected. “She's cold... but I guess that's just how she is”

My heart thudded painfully in my chest, the pressure of the situation suddenly too much to bear.

I thought, no, hoped, that Oscar might defend me, at least show some understanding of who I really was, what I had been through.

But instead, it was like he was agreeing with Lando.

And with every second that passed, the pain inside me deepened, unbearable and raw.

Lando’s voice cut through the silence again, sharper this time.

“Whatever, man. Just keep an eye on her, alright? I’m telling you, she’s got her own agenda. You can’t trust someone like that. She’s been playing everyone, and I’m sure you’re next.”

I stood frozen in place, my heart sinking.

Oscar was quiet for a moment, and I could feel the crackle of tension in the air, even from where I stood.

Was he really considering what Lando said? Was he starting to doubt me too?

Finally, Oscar spoke, his voice quieter than before, but there was an edge to it now, like something had shifted inside of him.

“Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on her. She seems suspicious and untrustworthy.”

The words hit me like a physical blow.

My stomach twisted painfully, and it was like all the air had been sucked from my lungs.

That was it. He didn’t defend me. He didn’t trust me.

He was agreeing with Lando’s words, buying into the idea that I was some sort of threat, someone who couldn’t be trusted.

The space between us that had once felt so close now seemed impossibly vast, like an insurmountable chasm had opened up between us.

I felt the sting of betrayal rush through me, even though I tried to swallow it down.

My mind raced. How could he believe that? How could he think that of me, after everything we had shared, the small moments of connection?

It didn’t make sense.

It wasn’t like me to be the one who couldn’t be trusted, but here I was, questioning everything.

Turning on my heel, I quickly walked away, the sound of their voices echoing behind me, but I couldn’t bring myself to face them.

I could feel the tears welling up, but I refused to let them fall.

Not now. Not when it felt like I had already lost everything.

As I made my way back through the hall, my stomach twisted with a kind of emptiness I couldn’t describe.

That was it. Oscar had chosen Lando’s side without hesitation. And that hurt more than anything.

The realization settled over me like a heavy blanket, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of being completely alone in a place I thought I had found some semblance of belonging.

I had hoped for more from Oscar, but now, I wasn’t sure what was real anymore.

What had we even shared if it could be so easily dismissed by someone who barely knew me?

Later that evening,

I found myself walking toward the tech area, my mind still reeling from the aftermath of everything.

The weight of the argument earlier that day had left me hollow, like a piece of me had been torn away and I couldn’t find the strength to patch it back together.

I wanted to drown out the pain, to lose myself in the data, in the work that always kept me busy.

But then, as I rounded the corner, I saw him.

Oscar.

We came face-to-face in the hallway, and for a moment, neither of us moved.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly between us, the world around us fading as the air between us thickened with unspoken words.

My heart raced, pounding in my chest, the weight of the moment pressing down on me like a thousand-ton brick.

The silence felt suffocating, every second of it making me feel smaller, more exposed, more vulnerable.

I could barely breathe.

Finally, he spoke, his voice hesitant, as if testing the air.

"Y/n, I want to talk about earlier. Please."

I couldn’t even look at him. His words felt like a distant echo, like something I couldn’t quite reach.

The sting of everything he’d said to me earlier, the doubt, the mistrust, burned too fiercely in my chest for me to react calmly.

I shook my head, my throat tight as I tried to hold it together.

My voice came out barely above a whisper, thick with emotion.

“What’s there to talk about? You don’t believe me. You don’t trust me.”

Oscar’s face softened, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite name, but it didn’t matter.

The pain in my heart was louder than anything he could say. He stepped closer, like he couldn’t bear the distance between us.

His voice was pleading, desperate for me to listen.

“That’s not true. I said those things out of anger, out of frustration. Lando’s words... they got to me. But I swear, I don’t think you’re using me. I—”

I cut him off, my voice breaking with the weight of my emotions. I couldn’t let him spin it.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head furiously.

You’re just like everyone else. You heard one thing, and you turned your back on me.”

His steps faltered, and for a moment, I saw something like regret flash in his eyes.

But it didn’t change anything. Not anymore.

The damage had been done, and I couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt.

“Y/n, please,” he said softly, reaching out, his hand hovering near my arm.

“I didn’t mean it.”

But his words felt hollow now.

I didn’t want to hear him apologize. Not when everything I had worked so hard to build between us seemed to have shattered in an instant.

I felt the tears welling up, burning my eyes, threatening to spill over.

My chest felt tight, suffocating under the weight of everything I had been trying to keep buried.

“You did,” I whispered through the tears. “You believed it. And now I can’t trust you either.”

Oscar’s hand dropped as if the weight of my words had physically knocked it from him.

The space between us seemed to stretch, a chasm that no words could bridge.

His eyes flickered with something like frustration, but I couldn’t find the energy to care.

“You’re always so defensive, always so closed off,” he said, his voice sharper now, tinged with anger.

“It’s exhausting. I can’t keep up with this anymore.”

I felt the sharp sting of his words, but there was something else beneath it.

Something that twisted in my chest.

“Maybe it’s because you don’t want to,” I choked out, my voice cracking with emotion.

“Maybe you just don’t want to understand.”

Oscar’s eyes turned cold, and his voice rose, filled with a rawness I wasn’t prepared for.

“You think you’re so much better than everyone, don’t you? You act like you don’t care, but deep down, you’re just scared. Scared that you’re not good enough. You’re scared of getting hurt, so you push everyone away. And it’s pathetic.”

I froze.

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and my breath caught in my throat.

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move.

I was frozen in place, each syllable echoing through my mind, digging into the parts of me I tried so desperately to keep hidden.

The parts I had tried to lock away from everyone, including myself.

And now, here he was, exposing them in the worst way possible.

I trusted him, but he used my trust in him against me.

My worst fears, my deepest insecurities, laid bare before me in the cruelest possible light.

I didn’t want to cry. I couldn’t. But the tears came, hot and fast, and I couldn’t stop them.

I had built so many walls around myself, so many layers to protect the fragile parts inside, and now they felt like they were crumbling away with each word Oscar spoke.

Oscar’s expression faltered as soon as he realized what he had just said.

His eyes widened in horror like he couldn’t believe the words that had just left his mouth. This wasn't him.

He reached out to me, but the instinct to pull away was stronger than anything I had ever felt.

My body jerked back, my anger and hurt boiling over in that single moment.

“No,” I spat, my voice venomous and raw. “Don’t touch me.”

His hand dropped like a stone, and I saw the regret washing over his face, but it didn’t matter.

Not now.

Not after everything.

It seemed like he was regretting everything the minute he realized he was losing me.

But the damage was already done, and there was no taking it back.

I turned away from him, the weight of everything crashing down on me as I walked away, the tears falling freely now.

My heart felt like it had been torn in half.

I didn’t look back, because I knew if I did, I’d crumble.

The pain was too much.

I was almost out of the hallway when I heard his footsteps behind me.

He was following me.

“Y/n, please,” Oscar called again, his voice breaking through the distance between us.

“I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please, just let me explain.”

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t listen to him anymore.

I had trusted him and believed that he saw me for who I was, and now… now he had shattered everything.

My heart felt raw, bleeding from the wounds he had inflicted.

I stopped in my tracks and turned to face him.

“You want to apologize now?” I asked, my voice trembling with the pain I could no longer hide.

“It’s too late, Oscar. You’ve already made your choice. You’ve already believed the worst about me.”

Oscar stepped closer, his face full of regret. “Y/n, I—”

“No,” I interrupted, shaking my head, my heart breaking in two.

“I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep trusting people who turn on me the second something goes wrong. I’ve had enough.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.

The silence stretched between us, and I could see the conflict in his eyes. But it didn’t matter.

The damage was already done, and I couldn’t forgive him, not now.

Not after everything.

With a final, bitter glance, I turned away and walked off, the tears still falling as I left him standing there, his apology hanging in the air between us, unanswered and unaccepted.

But one thing was for sure: I had to put myself first.

The end

[s-h-a-s-e]

the ultimate lifeform my beloved <3

[eveninglakehomeworld]

hi friends and lovers, I've gathered a small collection of dialogues from Zevran in DA:O regarding Antiva & the Crows.

I got this together mostly for myself, but thought I'd share in case anyone who is maybe looking to flesh out their new Crow OC, write fanfic involving Crow characters, or is looking for a refresher on early Crow lore would like something to reference. I trimmed down dialogues a bit, so mostly just information relevant to the Crows, Antiva in general, and Zevran's own attitudes about being an assassin are present.

this post has dialogues from Zev's recruitment event and a couple of early game camp conversations. because it's only a handful of dialogues, this is, ostensibly, part 1 of several. I plan to post more as I progress through my replay of origins. enjoy! <3

Recruitment

Warden: "What are the Antivan Crows?"

Leliana: I can tell you that. They are an order of assassins out of Antiva. Very powerful, and renowned for always getting the job done... so to speak. Someone went to great expense to hire this man.

Zevran: Quite right. I'm surprised you haven't heard much of the Crows out here. Back where I come from, we're rather infamous.

Warden: "You came all the way from Antiva?"

Zevran: Not precisely. I was in the neighborhood when the offer came. The Crows get around, you see.

[After being asked if he's loyal to Loghain]

Zevran: Beyond that, no, I'm not loyal to him. I was contracted to perform a service.

Warden: "And now that you've failed that service?"

Zevran: Well, that's between Loghain and the Crows. And between the Crows and myself.

Warden: "When were you to see him next?"

Zevran: I wasn't. If I had succeeded, I would have returned home and the Crows would have informed your Loghain of the results... if he didn't already know. If I had failed, I would be dead. Or I should be, at least, as far as the Crows are concerned. No need to see Loghain then.

Warden: "How much were you paid?"

Zevran: I wasn't paid anything. The Crows, however, were paid quite handsomely. Or so I understand. Which does make me about as poor as a chantry mouse, come to think of it. Being an Antivan Crow isn't for the ambitious, to be perfectly honest.

Warden: "Then why are you one?"

Zevran: Well, aside from a distinct lack of ambition, I suppose it's because I wasn't give much of a choice. The Crows bought me young. I was a bargain, too, or so I'm led to believe. But don't let my sad story influence you. The Crows aren't so bad. They keep one well supplied: Wine, women, men. Whatever you happen to fancy. Though, the whole severance package is garbage, let me tell you. If you were considering joining, I'd really think twice about it.

Warden: "Aren't you at least loyal to your employers?"

Zevran: Loyalty is an interesting concept. If you wish, and you're done interrogating me, we can discuss it further.

Warden: "I'm listening. Make it quick."

Zevran: Well, here's the thing. I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That's how it works. If you don't kill me, the Crows will. Thing is, I like living. And you obviously are the sort to give the Crows pause. So let me serve you, instead.

Warden: "And what's to stop you from finishing the job later?"

Zevran: To be completely honest, I was never given much of a choice regarding joining the Crows. They bought me on the slave market when I was a child. I think I've paid my worth back to them, plus tenfold. The only way out, however, is to sign up with someone they can't touch. Even if I did kill you now, they might kill me just on the principle of failing the first time. Honestly, I'd rather take my chances with you.

Warden: "Won't they come after you?"

Zevran: Possibly. I happen to know their wily ways, however. I can protect myself, as well as you. Not that you seem to need much help. And if not, well, it's not as if I had many alternatives to start with, is it?

Warden: "Why would I want your service?"

Zevran: Why? Because I am skilled at many things, from fighting to stealth and picking locks. I could also warn you should the Antivan Crows attempt something more... sophisticated... now that my attempts have failed.

A few early game camp conversations

Conversation 1 Warden: "What does it take to become an assassin?"

Zevran: Well, the Crows would have you believe that it is an involved process that takes years of training, the sort that tests both your resolve and your endurance. Survive that process and maybe, just maybe, you're good enough to start being considered one of them. But quite frankly the truth is that all it requires is a desire to kill people for a living. It's surprising how well one can do in such a field.

Warden: "It doesn't take any special skill?"

Zevran: I don't know about that. It's simply a slightly different skill set from your average killer, as I see it. An assassin simply specializes in striking from stealth... and in maximizing that first attack to be as lethal as possible. Debilitating your foe, either by poison or by crippling their limbs, makes any follow-up combat you need to engage in that much simpler.

Warden: "That sounds like it could be useful."

Zevran: See? Getting paid for the act is beside the point. An assassin is more a tactical choice than a lifestyle. Of course, the Crows like to pretend that their abilities are trade secrets, shrouded in shadows and wrapped in a blanket of mystery. So let's just keep this between you and me, shall we, hmm?

Conversation 2 Warden: "Why did you want to leave the Crows, exactly?"

Zevran: Well, now, I imagine that's a very fair question. Being an assassin, after all, is a living, at least as far as such things go. I was simply never given the opportunity to choose another way. So if that choice presents itself, why should I not seize upon it?

Warden: "You didn't choose the Crows?"

Zevran: Mm? To be truthful, I didn't even know the Crows existed when I joined them. I was but a boy of seven when I was purchased. For three sovereigns, I'm told. Which is a good price, considering I was all ribs and bone and didn't know the pommel of a dagger from the pointy end. The Crows buy all their assassins that way. Buy them young, raise them to know nothing else but murder. And if you do poorly in your training, you die.

Warden: "That sounds awful."

Zevran: "Oh, I don't know about that. The Crows who are actually good enough to survive come to enjoy some of the benefits. In Antiva, being a Crow gets you respect. It gets you wealth. It gets you women... and men, or whatever it is you might fancy. But that does mean doing what is expected of you, always. And it means being expendable. It's a cage, if a gilded cage. Pretty, but confining. [note: I transcribed the first line of the last section as it was written in the subtitles because it seemed to make more sense in context, but when Zevran speaks it aloud he actually says "That does not mean doing what is expected of you." presumably an editing error, but can't be 100% positive which is the intended message.]

[After being asked what he thinks his future might hold]

Zevran: As for what I'll do in the future... presuming that there is one... I truly can't imagine. It might be interesting to go into business for myself, for a change. Far away from Antiva, of course. For now, naturally, I go where you go.

Warden: "Won't the Crows eventually find you?"

Zevran: [laughs] Eventually can be a very, very long time if one plays one's cards right. Come, now. Enough chit-chat. Talking about the Crows summons them, you know. Any Antivan fishwife could tell you so.

Conversation 3 Warden: "Do you actually enjoy being an assassin?"

Zevran: And why not? There are many things to enjoy about being a Crow in Antiva. You are respected. You are feared. The authorities go out of their way to overlook your trespasses. Even the rewards are nothing to turn your nose up at. As for the killing part, well... some people simply need assassinating. Or do you disagree?

Warden: "You've never killed an innocent?"

Zevran: Now there's an interesting word, "innocent." How many men do you know who can claim to truly be innocent? But if you're talking generalities, such as children and relatives and bystanders and such... never on purpose, but it happens. It's unfortunate, but death comes to us all. If not me, then some wasting disease. Or a fall down the stairs. Or at the hands of a darkspawn. It's all relative in the end.

Warden: "I suppose that's true."

Zevran: "Death happens," as we like to say. And when I get paid for it, death happens more often. As far as enjoying the act of killing itself, why not? There is a certain artistry to the deed, the pleasure of sinking your blade into their flesh and knowing that their life is in your hands.

Warden: "I know what you mean."

Zevran: There are many things I did not enjoy about being a Crow, of course. Having no choice, being treated as an expendable commodity, the rules... oh, so many rules! But, simply being an assassin? I like it just fine. I will continue to do it, if I can, even if I am not a Crow. Honestly, could you picture me doing something else?

Conversation 4 [note: I trimmed this one down a lot bc it's just one of the ones where he tells you about a job and there's not a lot to be gleaned about Antiva, how the Crows operate, etc] [In response to being asked, "The Crows were willing to anger the Circle of Magi?"]

Zevran: In Antiva, nobody is too important to escape the reach of the Crows. They have killed kings and queens. That's simply how it is.

[After elaborating on how he fumbled an assassination attempt and the mark died accidentally, instead of by his hand]

Zevran: Then I found out she had told the driver to take her to Genellan instead. She has planned to lose me in the provinces. I would have looked very foolish to the Crows. As it was, my master was very impressed that I had done such a fine job of making it look like an accident. The Circle of Magi was unaware of foul play, and everyone was happier all around.

Conversation 5 Warden: "Tell me a little about Antiva."

Zevran: Oh? You wish to know about Antiva, do you? The only way to truly appreciate it would be to go there. It is a warm place, not cold and harsh like this Ferelden. In Antiva it rains often, but the flowers are always in bloom... or so the saying goes.

Warden: "Don't you want to go back?"

Zevran: [sighs] It is not really a matter of wanting to go back. I cannot go. At least not yet. I hail from the glorious Antiva City, home to the royal palace. It is a glittering gem amidst the sand, my Antiva City. Do you come from someplace comparable?

Warden: "I'm not from any glittering gem, no."

Zevran: No? That is too bad. If you were, then surely you would spend as much time boasting about it as I do! Hmm. You know what is most odd? We speak of my homeland, and for all its wine and its dark-haired beauties and the lillo flutes of the minstrels... I miss the leather the most.

Warden: "Is that some kind of euphemism?"

Zevran: [laughs] It may as well be! But not this once, no. I mean the smell. For years I lived in a tiny apartment near Antiva City's leather-making district, in a building where the Crows stored their youngest recruits. Packed in like crates. I grew accustomed to the stench, even though the humans complained of it constantly. To this day the smell of fresh leather is what reminds me most of home more than anything else.

Warden: "That's a little bizarre. There's leather everywhere."

Zevran: Ah, but it's not Antivan leather, is it? I do not know what the Antivan tanners do that is different, but ther is no leather more supple nor more fragrant.

Warden: "You sound like you've been away from home forever."

Zevran: Oh, not so long, I know. It is my first time away from Antiva, however, and the thought of never returning makes me think of it constantly. Before I left, I was tempted to spend what little coin I possessed on leather boots I spotted in a store window. Finest Antivan leather, perfect craftsmanship—ah, but I was a fool to leave them. I thought, "Ah, Zevran, you can buy them when you return as a reward from a job well done." More the fool I, no?

Warden: "Your home is still there, Zevran."

Zevran: True, and it's a comforting thought. One simply never knows what is to come next.

Now, if it is all the same to you, I would prefer not to speak more of Antiva. It makes me wistful and hungry for a proper meal.

Bonus banter snippet because I found it amusing:

Morrigan: You assassin types have a death wish, I see.

Zevran: [laughs] Only the really good ones.

[hxlxnaaa]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬

★ synopsis: you're not just friends, but you're not more than that either. he's the epitome of unreadable and unavailable, leaving you confused, hurt, and lost.

★ character: xavier

★ cw: first person pov, really angsty, like REALLY angsty (i chose violence my bad), college au, situationship plot

★ word count: 4.3k

★ a/n: before i say anything im so sorry. like i was not expecting it to be this angsty but then it was and...well i couldn't stop it. i will for sure write a happy ending for this if someone would like that!! i think xavier would be a situationship final boss cause bro cannot manage his feelings. also can you tell i really like college au's... anyways, enjoy!!

His hands rest on the curve of my waist, firm and possessive, as if his fingers might weave through my ribs and anchor themselves there. His touch lingers with a quiet desperation, a reminder of everything we’ve shared. Once you’ve seen so much of someone, their fears, their desires, the way their eyes light up in the smallest moments—walking away feels like tearing apart something sacred, like committing a sin against the universe itself.

I stare at his sleeping face. I could protect him, my heart a sanctuary warm enough for him to find peace. He’d never have to wander again, never ever need to leave. The softness of his skin could soothe the ache buried deep within me, erasing the sickness with a quiet, tender touch.

He has my heart trapped like a bird.

Part of me wonders if he knows how he’s holding me, if he finds comfort within his slumber and dreams with my body pressed against his. Or if he’ll stir and realize, turning away and leaving me to stare at the muscles in his back that flex as he sleeps.

I trace circles onto his bicep, like the circles he runs around us.

I had met Xavier a little over a year ago, he was a friend of a friend, and we met at a small house party that a few mutuals of ours had thrown. He was like a star, shining so brightly in the room it drowned out everyone else. He was standing in a corner talking to Jeremiah, a good friend of mine that I shared some classes with. The way Xavier shyly smiled at me when Jeremiah introduced us made my heart feel like King Arthur’s sword, and someone had finally managed to capture it.

We talked the rest of the night, never leaving that spot in the corner. I paid no mind to anyone else I knew in that house, all that mattered was the beautiful cosmic boy I was encountering.

He found me again in the library a few weeks later, lightly tapping my shoulder and asking if he could study with me. Xavier was an astronomy major, ever so fitting for the star-boy who sparkled like constellations no matter where he went. The way his face lit up when asked about space was a vision I wanted to replay behind my eyelids every time I slept.

Xavier quickly became one of my best friends, and every second I spent with him was a second closer to my demise.

With him, I had tunnel vision. It didn’t matter how many guys my friends tried to set me up with, none of them were Xavier.

He was all I ever wanted.

I had never wanted anything as bad as I wanted Xavier. In my eyes he hung the moon and the stars. My love for him was an insatiable hunger that only he could cure; if he was Hades I would’ve taken that pomegranate from his tree, sacrificing my life to spend the rest of my time in hell just so I could spend eternity with him. I’d put myself on display for him so he can play God on judgement day, I’d let him carve his name into me so I’d remember what to say, I’d do anything he asked.

He’s the serpent and I’m Eve.

Xavier was hard to read, it was like trying to understand the plot of a book in pig latin. One moment he’s sitting so close to me I can smell his shampoo, looking me in my eyes and smiling so widely I thought his cheeks would hurt, as he twirls a strand of my hair around his finger. He’ll cut me off mid sentence and tell me I look beautiful, and watch me as if I’m a movie he’s been waiting years to see.

The next moment? I don’t see him for days; I don’t get texts, no photos and complaints about his astronomy homework, no little alien gifs, no hellos or goodbyes. He disappears without a trace, and the only proof I have that he ever existed is the ache in my heart when I realize he’s pulling away again.

I’ve never gotten anything I’ve ever wanted, but once, I got close. Xavier had showed up at my dorm on a storming Saturday night at 1 AM like a sopping wet dog in the hallway, his first appearance in a week. Slurring his speech, blubbering about how Jeremiah and their friends dragged him out to the bars.

“M’sorry I just showed up, I wanted to see you…Just see you…”

Drunk off his ass, the pity for him overcame my anger. I gave him a change of his own clothes, hoodies and sweatpants I had borrowed and never gave back, the only pieces I had of him when he would turn into a ghost again.

Xavier watched me as I maneuvered around the room, grabbing him a glass of water, his eyes bleary and lips mumbling breathless words I couldn’t catch.

“Hey.”

I turned to look at him, his cheeks and ears red from the alcohol. He was sprawled out on my bed shirtless after refusing the hoodie, declaring the room was too hot. Xavier gestured for me to come closer, and as I approached the bed, he yanked my wrist down causing me to collapse onto his bare chest. His half-lidded eyes scanned my face, hand snaking up my waist.

“Is this okay?” He said through breathless kisses on my shoulder. Holding my body very still, I thought if I moved I may wake up.

“Xavier, you’re drunk.” I whispered, my words betraying my thoughts. He stilled, and I internally punched myself. Pulling back far enough I could see his eyes again, he smiled and placed a kiss on my palm. I couldn’t help but smile back, as my heart lurched out of my chest and into his hands for good. Xavier slowly and awkwardly flipped me onto my back, stumbling a bit through his inebriation. He mumbled words of adoration, planting kisses that burned like the fire of a star all over my face and skin.

“Perfect… So perfect… You’re like Venus, so full of love… Beautiful girl…”

Xavier kissed me like I was broken and he was thread, trying to sew me back together. The moment was holy, his heart singing to mine like a psalm. I memorized the movement of his lips against mine, cherishing the taste of cheap beer on his tongue.

“I love you.”

He fell asleep next to me, as I stayed awake staring at the ceiling, wondering what this meant for us.

Nothing, I suppose.

Xavier never mentioned it, and I never felt the courage to bring it up. It was only a fleeting moment, but it stuck with me like a plague, hanging over my head. It left the soft moments with him more confusing, the compliments more intimate, the feelings more frustrating.

I stare at him asleep holding me, face gentle through dreams, and I want to cry. Falling asleep next to me was nothing new, crashing in my dorm after movie nights or study dates. ‘No it’s okay, don’t sleep on the floor. We can just share the bed.’

I am a ticking time bomb, and I’m going to explode.

My heart is trapped like a bird.

-

“Honestly, I really think you should just confront him,” Tara flips through the pages of her textbook, “it’s not getting you anywhere not knowing what he thinks.”

I throw my face in my hands, letting out a groan and tangling my fingers in my hair, “It’s not that easy. What am I gonna say? ‘Hey, we kissed once so what are we?’ Do you know how crazy that sounds!”

“You forgot the part, ‘you also spend the night in my bed a lot’ or, ‘you told me you loved me’.”

“Friends do and say stuff like that all the time!” Shuddering at the thought of rejection, I hold up a finger to silence Tara, “Plus I’m not sure I even want to know. I think staying in the dark is better for everyone.”

She rolls her eyes, slamming the textbook closed, “Right. Okay, fine, that’s fine. Just quit complaining, I’m gonna tear my hair out.” Walking over, she places a kiss to the top of my head, “You know I love you, but I’m gonna kill both of you if I have to hear about it one more time.”

Tara leaves for class, and I’m left alone in the library with my thoughts and an exam to study for. I feel the pads of Xavier’s fingertips against my skin leftover from last night, and the feeling of emptiness when I woke up and he was gone. No text saying he had left for class, just radio silence and his body imprinted in my sheets. It’s moments like this, when I’m convinced I’ve got him right outside my grasp, he’d fall back out of reach.

I’m about to put on my headphones and tune the world out, when I hear a man's voice.

“Are you studying for the exam?”

I look up, and I see the boy who sits next to me in my stats class, Rafayel. His hair is a mess, and his black sweater has a few paint stains on them. I assume he’s just come from the studio, as his satchel is hanging loosely over his shoulder, his portfolio book sticking out. Rafayel’s an art major and never fails to complain the whole time about how the class is required for him, but he’s ‘never even gonna use this stuff’.

I huff, staring at my laptop screen, “Yeah, trying to at least.”

Rafayel slips into the seat Tara was just in, throwing his satchel on the floor beside him, “Oh good, you can help me then!”

I'm grateful for the distraction, as Rafayel is a sweet guy and a good break from the chronic thoughts of Xavier. His glances at me in class while I try to work on a concept with him don’t go unnoticed, or the way he doodles me on the corner of his paper, flashing me a grin when I point to the drawings. He would be so perfect, the artsy goof who showers me in attention, clingy, comedic and kind;

But he’s not Xavier.

“How am I supposed to help you with this if you’re busy drawing?” I tap his sketchbook with my pen. Rafayel looks up from his work with a frown, “I’m getting bored!”

He snatches my pen from my hand to stop my tapping, “Hey, why don’t we go to the cafe for a quick break? My brain could use it.”

“You’ve been studying for fifteen minutes.”

“So? You’re supposed to take breaks after twenty minutes, it’s been like, scientifically proven or whatever.”

He stares at me with a big smile, and I know I can’t say no to him. Literally, I wouldn’t be allowed.

When we got to the cafe, the place was packed and I internally groaned. Looking around the bustling coffee shop, it was uncomfortable just how busy it was. Waiting in line practically squished next to Rafayel, I rested my head on his shoulder as I had done many times in class before. He draped his arm around my shoulder, going on about how one of his professors gave him a bad grade on a painting because he used the wrong shade of blue. I thought about how nice it would be to stand like this with Xavier, but I never felt as if I could get close enough to try.

Trying to shake off the thoughts about him, I thought about Rafayel’s arm around me. The way his finger would poke my shoulder as he talked to put emphasis on his words, or the way his bicep flexed on the back of my neck as he moved. It was comforting in a way, secure. It was protective. Safe.

“Oh my God, I hate that dude.” Rafayel scoffs, looking at a table in the corner. Following his eyes, I caught a glimpse of tousled platinum hair. Meeting his blue eyes, my breath hitched in my chest, body freezing against Rafayel. I couldn’t read a single ounce of emotion on his face, just feeling his stare bore into me.

My first instinct wanted to rip away from Rafayel, let Xavier know I was still his. Yet-

I’m not. I’m not his, and he’s not mine.

I remember the feeling of defeat this morning when I woke up, body tired from staying up and watching the rise and fall of his chest, mind exhausted from the push and pull, chasing after him and never quite catching up.

Leaning farther into the boy beside me, I look away from Xavier and look up at Rafayel.

After all, the key to moving on is finding someone new.

“Which one?” I ask him, not sure if he’s referring to anyone else at that table. It was a group of Xaviers friends, people I had met briefly.

“The blonde one, he’s in one of my gen ed classes and he’s a total prick.” Rafayel stares back at Xavier, and I try to avoid his piercing eyes, focusing on picking at a piece of lint on Rafayels sweater.

“Oh, yeah. I know him.” I don’t want him to be introduced to that part of my world. Rafayel is pure, untainted by the chaos. I didn’t want to drag him into the hurricane.

-

After that, I didn’t hear from Xavier for a while. Though his silence wasn’t uncommon, I couldn’t help but think this time it may have been provoked by the moment in the cafe. I saw him around campus a few times, in his usual spots, but when he’d notice me he’d just look away.

Saying it hurt would be an understatement.

I started seeing Rafayel more to fill the void that Xavier was leaving behind. Every tear Xavier had ripped into my heart and soul, Rafayel was taking bandaids and patching them up. While it was nice, it wasn’t a permanent solution to the wounds.

I felt guilty, like I was using him, doing the same thing to Rafayel that Xavier was doing to me. Though, despite whatever was happening, Rafayel was content. I don’t think he minded the situation I had imposed. From little dates to holding hands, to kisses on my cheek when he’d drop me off at my dorm, I was getting the attention I craved and Rafayel had someone to keep him company. It’s like we had this silent, mutual agreement that whatever was happening was okay, and this is all it had to be.

Rafayel never knew about Xavier, and I would never tell him.

The incident at the cafe was the first, but not the only time Xavier saw us together. Whether it was the library studying, or the student union building, Xavier would see us and almost always stare. Rafayel always had comments to make about it too, muttering things under his breath about him being a creepy stalker.

I was sitting on the floor of my dorm with Rafayel, scrolling aimlessly on my phone as he sketched the fake plants I had sitting on my desk. My phone started to blow up with everyone texting in our group chat, something about a party happening this weekend.

Tara: Please tell me you guys are gonna be there!

Jeremiah: i have to go, one of my friends is in the frat and he’ll kill me if i don’t

Tara: Okay that's 2 of us! Who else???

“Who’s texting you so much?” Rafayel says, clearly annoyed by my phone's insistent text tone going off.

“This group chat I’m in with my friends,” I sit my phone down, “there's a party this weekend and they’re trying to get everyone to go.”

“Are you going to?”

“I dunno, are you?”

Rafayel laughs, “You know better than anyone I couldn’t be caught dead at one of those.” He puts his sketchbook aside, grabbing my hand, “You should go though, you don’t really do much besides go to class and see me, and as much as I'm happy with the attention, this is a really sad look for you.”

I pull my hand away, offended, “I am not sad!”

“Then prove it, go to the party.”

“I’m pretty sure this is peer pressure, hazing even.”

“That’s most definitely not hazing.” Rafayel picks his sketchbook back up, going back to his drawing with a smug look on his face.

I text back in the groupchat, upset that I agree with Rafayel. Ever since I started hanging out with him and Xavier started giving me the full blown silent treatment, I haven’t really gone out much. I see Tara here and there for lunch or a quick study session, but it’s been a while since I’ve taken the time to do something fun.

Me: yea i’ll be there, lmk what time

Tara: OMG YAY!!!! I’ll send you the details

Xavier: I’ll see U guys there

Seeing Xavier text that he was going to be in attendance sent a lightning bolt of anxiety through my chest.

This was the longest we had gone without talking. Usually, his moments of silence only lasted a few weeks at most. With due time he’d come back with a post he sent or ask me to hang out, announcing his presence and waltzing back into my life; and I'd let him in.

Every. Single. Time.

The distance he created between us this time around made me anxious to face him the upcoming weekend. Would he say hi? Ask how I was? Would he look right through me like so many times before?

After Rafayel left, I sat in bed cocooned in one of Xavier's hoodies he had left behind, watching the stars through my window. I thought maybe, if I stared hard enough, they could make a constellation of his face.

-

Friday rolled around faster than I had hoped. Per Tara’s request, we showed up fashionably late, so the old beat up house was packed by the time we arrived. It was the first time in months I had put myself together, doing my hair and makeup. Taking a couple shots of whatever Tara had given me, I was feeling mildly prepared for the night ahead.

Walking in, my hand gripped hers tightly as she maneuvered gracefully through the crowd. Grabbing a drink from the makeshift bar, I cracked open the can and started chugging. I was going to need as much alcohol as I could to get me through this night. We found a couple girls that we knew, chatting loudly over the music, as I pounded back a few more drinks.

Before I knew it, the man I was dreading seeing the most appeared beside Tara with Jeremiah.

“Ladies!” Jeremiah shouted, wrapping his arms around Tara and I. Xavier’s eyes could have burned a hole through my skull with the intensity that he stared at me. Internally I was at war with myself, half wanting to shrink away because of how small his look made me feel, but also feeling powerful thanks to the liquor coursing through my veins and the hot outfit I had on.

One voice on my shoulder screamed, “Get out of here! Go home! Never show your face again!” While the other danced around, “You’re such a sexy bitch, show him what he’s missing!”

I chugged another drink.

“Wait- Tara, I want you to meet one of my friends, come with me.” Jeremiah gestured for Tara to follow him, and I flashed her a panicked look. She shrugged, squeezing my hand before following behind Jeremiah.

I stood alone with Xavier, the rest of the group disbursing where it just left us.

“I’m gonna get a drink, come on.”

I looked at him, “What?”

“I’m gonna go get a drink? Let's go.” He raised an eyebrow at me, like I asked a stupid question.

“Okay, but why do I have to come with you?”

“Because I’m not leaving you all by yourself-” Xavier pressed two fingers to his temple, “nevermind it’s fine I don’t need another one.”

“I was just asking-”

“Where’s your boyfriend?” He cut me off, his question catching me off guard.

“I’m sorry?”

“Are you having trouble understanding tonight or something? How much have you had to drink?” His words were venom, and I was appalled. Not once had he ever spoken to me this way, not even in arguments.

“I just don’t know who you’re fucking talking about, my bad.” I spat back at him.

“The guy who’s always up your ass, where is he tonight?”

I laughed, shocked, “You mean Rafayel? He is not my boyfriend.” I wasn’t sure if it was the liquor or his jealousy, but his attitude was a loaded gun.

“Well I couldn’t tell, seeing as how you both practically eye fuck wherever you go.”

Stunned, my jaw dropped. His eyes softened, and I could tell he knew he hit a nerve. With the blaring music in my ears, and the alcohol coursing through my veins, I was suddenly convinced that if I didn’t get out of that house I was going to fall apart to pieces.

“I don’t have to take this.” I shoved past him, pushing my way through the crowd and out the front door, until the cold air hit my face.

Xavier called out my name from behind, but I continued walking down the sidewalk. I wanted to be so far from that party, from him, that I thought I may just walk back to my hometown and away from this stupid place; to somewhere he didn’t exist anymore.

Calling my name again, he caught up, grabbing me by my shoulder. His face was switching through emotions every second, and I was getting whiplash.

“What the hell is your problem!” I shouted at him, tears threatening to spill, welling up in the corner of my eyes.

“Hey, wait-” His hand that was on my shoulder went to my cheek, and I jerked away.

“No, you don’t get to do that anymore, we’re done playing that game. I give up!”

“What are you talking about?”

“You- This, us! You kiss me, you tell me I’m beautiful, you tell me you love me, you sleep in my bed and I’m in your arms, then you don’t text me for weeks! You don’t acknowledge anything you do, and I don’t know what any of it means,” I don’t realize I’m crying until I taste the salt in my mouth, “You’re so confusing and I don’t know what’s happening, and it hurts so fucking bad and you don’t even care.”

Xavier stands there dumbfounded, my vision blurry and spinning. I think I might throw up, and I’m not sure if it’s from the situation or the liquor.

“Then you have the audacity to be mean to me over some guy that I’m friends with,” I start to sob, my voice becoming weak and small, “you don’t get to do that, you have no right.”

He doesn’t move, and I stop talking. The only sound between us is my quiet crying and hiccups, mixed with the faint music from the party down the block. He says my name, and I barely hear it over the roar of my own ears.

“You’re my best friend…” He whispers.

The words cut through me like a knife, and I think if I look down I’ll see I’ve been gutted. If you could die from a broken heart, I’d already be six feet under. I swallow thickly, and nod. His words were enough, it told me everything I needed to know.

“Can I walk you home?” He asks.

I shake my head.

I started walking down the sidewalk.

He didn't follow.

When he was out of sight, I sat down on the curb and broke down again. Everything I had felt over the past year of knowing him came out at once, my body ejecting all of it. I cursed him, his name, his future wife and family. I prayed that he was destined to stay up at night, regretting that the woman asleep next to him isn’t me. Distraught, because I believe I myself am cursed to love him forever.

I called Rafayel, and asked him to pick me up. I threw up in someone's yard before he did, and when I finally got back home I closed my curtains and locked my window, hiding under my blankets; convinced the stars in the sky were out to get me. I never wanted to see them again, I’d avoid going outside at night for eternity if it meant I never had to face a reminder of him and his devastating beauty.

The next morning, I blocked him.

Well, I blocked him on all social media, even the ones we didn’t use; but I didn’t block his number. For emergency purposes, I thought.

Or I guess for the slim chance he came back; haunted by regret, choking on apologies, and falling to his knees to plead for forgiveness. I told my friends I was finished with him, swore it with conviction, but I’m starting to think those words were as empty as his own promises.

I won't text him first, I’ll just wait.

I’d wait until he misses my laugh, the sound of my voice, or the songs I’d sing to him as he fell asleep, my fingers through his hair.

I won’t text him, but I won’t shut him out entirely. I’ll close the door behind me, but I won’t lock it, not completely. I won’t hand him the key, but maybe I’ll leave behind a clue, something subtle, something only he’d recognize. Just in case he decides to come back, he’ll know where to start searching, know there’s still a way in, even if I pretend there isn’t.

I’d keep the house behind the door clean, buy a welcome mat, and even build a porch.

Just in case;

But he never called.

(divider by cafekitsune)

[rinniessance]

BEST FRIEND'S GIRL ༊*·˚ - suguru geto x f!reader

nothing has ever been tempting enough for suguru geto to stab his best friend in the back - until you.

꒰ warnings: nsfw - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ non-curse au. cheating, kind of manipulation, kind of dubcon, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, so so many pet names and name calling (calls you slut once), choking, dacraphyllia, spit, overstimulation, he doesn't pull out when you ask. satoru is toxic and suguru is a creep and a very bad friend in this one ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.6k ꒱ ꒰ notes: i am christening my new blog with this piece of absolute filth .ᐟ.ᐟ ꒱

being satoru gojo’s best friend is easy, it always has been. ever since suguru and satoru met in the elementary school, they've been inseparable, joint at the hip whenever they went. at times, no words needed to be exchanged between the two, a glance was enough for the duo to understand one another without missing a beat. and they always shared everything (and by everything, suguru truly means everything – his camera roll is a sin to be discovered) – that, until you came along.

geto remembers clear as day when gojo introduced you as his new girlfriend – he had to make sure he read the message he received correctly because when does satoru ever start a relationship without mentioning it to him before anyone else? suguru scoffs at his phone screen when he reads a text from gojo that he’s bringing “his new girl” to the party. “i think this one is special” reads his next message, and suguru laughs darkly. how many satoru’s special girls has he met already?

but when he sees you for the first time, oh when he sees you, all pieces of the puzzle come together. all of a sudden, satoru’s decision to keep you all to himself until he absolutely had to reveal you to the world makes perfect sense.

suguru thinks he’s never met as anyone as bewitching as you are, you have captivated him whole. the very moment your big doe eyes turned into tiny crescent moons when you smiled at him and extended your hand for a greeting is forever stitched into his brain, weaved into the crevices of his mind: it’s the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up and the last memory he replays before he goes to sleep. even when geto slips into the realm of morpheus, his dreams are still full of you. damn your strawberry lipgloss, your citrus scented perfume and your tiny pink dresses that leave so little to imagination. the pants suguru has to wear when he knows satoru’s bringing you along are getting wider and wider – to his embarrassment, it’s getting extremely difficult to hide his boner whenever you (unintentionally) bat your eyelashes at him.

(he had to jerk himself off in gojo’s bathroom once when he came over for a movie night – you were wearing your boyfriend’s t-shirt and he couldn’t stop imagining what his clothes would look like on your body. that thought alone was almost enough to making him cum.)

thoughts of you torment his every waking moment – he checks your instagram every hour for any updates and stalks your old posts in the hopes he will dream of your angelic face again; he makes plans with satoru under the pretense he is bored and has nothing better to do just to shamelessly gawk at you the whole time; and he feels like he hits the jackpot every time you laugh at his stupid jokes.

once in a while, the realization that he’s down bad for his best friend’s girlfriend hits him like a tidal wave – he can feel it coming, see the rising signs of the shame foaming up somewhere deep in the darkest corners of the ocean that is his heart. and when it finally washes over him, he feels himself drowning in the whirlpool of emotions he is usually too tired to deal with.

suguru knows exactly what you see in satoru – of course he does. his best friend is handsome, rich, popular; despite what others might say, he is a great conversationalist, and he will never give you a chance to get bored of him. geto is sure his best friend only showed his best parts when you started dating – that is why he is twice delighted when you get to experience the withdrawal symptoms as a result of satoru gojo’s absence. geto knows this game by heart – satoru gets a girl hooked, spoils her with attention and then suddenly becomes withdrawn. “it intensifies the feelings”, he usually says. special girl his ass. geto doesn’t complain though. instead, he works on an opportunity to create a rift between you two because he knows he can treat you so much better.

suguru gives you his number (“just in case you ever need to know where satoru is”), and casually starts texting you from time to time. it’s always simple topics: asking if you’ve heard back from satoru, saying he hasn’t been responding to geto’s texts (when he knows perfectly well he spoke with the white haired man that morning); wondering if the two of you have any plans later this week (he knows you don’t – his best friend has been on a successful streak of being hot and cold with you for the past couple of weeks); making sure everything’s okay between you two. he puts invisible effort into appearing to you as a concerned friend, and it pays off when you finally start texting him first. geto doesn’t know if it’s out of loneliness or sheer desperation – what he knows is that he is one step closer to tasting what satoru has been too dumb to properly treasure all this time.

you call suguru out of the blue on a saturday night. him and satoru decided to throw a party, and he is currently smoking his second cigarette, trying not to stare too much at the back of his best friend’s head while he is flirting with a girl he is sure to forget ten minutes later. why does gojo even bother when he has you waiting for him at home? geto looks at your display name in a slight surprise – the two of you have been getting closer but this is the first time you called.

“hello?”

“hi suguru… uhm…” he hears a quite sniffle on the other end of the phone line. you have been crying. “sorry to bother you but would you happen to know where satoru is? he has not been answering my calls and texts, and i am just getting worried.”

of course he knows where his best friend is – not even 4 feet away from him, having the time of his life. but geto chases the opportunity when he sees one, and he realizes this might be the chance he’s been waiting for.

“no, i don’t, i’m sorry. but if you’d like, i can come over and we can wait for him? if you’re feeling up to having some company.”

the silence ensues, and suguru thinks that maybe he overestimated the level of comfort you feel with him. he is about to apologize when you softly speak up again.

“yeah, i think i’d like that.”

“okay, i’ll be there in 30.”

he gives satoru a quick excuse as to why he has to leave – white-haired man doesn’t even blink an eye and just yells at him to be safe. but safe is the last thing he is planning to be today. suguru has never wished for the ability to teleport more than he did now because driving to your place takes entirely too long. but, as promised, he is finally standing in front of your door 30 minutes later. his hands are shaking from the adrenaline when he knocks – your ethereal features bless him mere seconds later.

“hi,” you whisper almost breathlessly.

“hello again,” geto responds, and you shuffle to the side to let him inside. he’s been to your house before, namely for the horror movie nights where he can pretend he is sitting too close to you entirely for platonic reasons, in the “this movie is so scary i need to hold someone” type of way. yet, it feels completely different when your boyfriend is not here.

“thank you for coming. i hope i didn’t distract you from anything important but…” he can see the beads of tears pool in the corner of your eyes, and fuck, he would be lying if he said his pants didn’t feel too tight for this situation. oh how he would like to make you cry for entirely different reasons, “satoru has not been responding to me and it’s getting a little too much to bear. as his friend, i appreciate your company.”

“anytime,” suguru breathes out – his brain is short circuiting and he is unable to string more than two words together. however, you don’t notice his slipping composure as you walk back to your couch and extend geto an invitation to sit beside you.

the silence only stretches for a few seconds as you press play on some movie. raven-haired man was about to say something to break the silence but stops his word vomit when he hears your soft sniffling. suguru decides this opportunity will not present itself again – he wordlessly opens his arms and gestures you to come for a hug. you seem unsure at first but then giggle quietly and carefully curl yourself into him.

geto has never been this close to you before – he can smell the scent of your shampoo; he can feel the softness of your hair and the smoothness of your skin where he is able to touch you; he can soak in the warmth your body is offering him right now. and all of that because satoru thinks he is too good to lose all of this.

“you know,” geto slowly starts, “maybe if he makes you feel this way, he is not a very good boyfriend.”

suguru knows he is playing with fire – but he would be a fool to not at least try.

“it’s not always too bad,” you respond back. there is an apprehension in your voice, doubt, maybe even little bit of fear. he knows this script by heart: you, pretending like nothing’s wrong by trying to concentrate on all the good memories gojo gifted you with, and him, always sealing the arguments with iron-hot kisses.

“yeah, i know. but don’t you think him making you feel this way is shitty enough? even if it only happened once, isn’t it already one time too many?”

“but he treats me so well,” you try to fight back and move to look him straight in the eyes. oh, that was a mistake asyour glossy doe eyes hold the beauty all the poets sing about. what was that saying? face that launched a thousand ships? yeah, he would willingly go to war for you. next words escape him before he can put a stop to his endless stream of thoughts.

“i can treat you so much better.”

he can see you gasp in surprise, making the most adorable face he’s ever seen. geto doesn’t want to hear what you have to say back – he is moving on instinct, animalistic hunger re-wiring his every nerve – so he kisses you, hard and breathtakingly, like he dreamed of ever since he first laid eyes on you.

you are startled, eyes as wide as two full moons, and you try to push himself off but he is persistent. suguru feels your hands curling into his t-shirt, and you cannot stop the moan slipping past your lips.

“you don’t have to be shy with me. it seems satoru has been neglecting you awfully a lot recently, wouldn’t you let me take care of you?”

“we s-shouldn’t be doing this, suguru. it’s wrong.”

“what’s wrong, sinful even, is to leave a pretty girl like you all alone. let me show you how you should be loved.”

before you can respond, suguru is sliding his hand down your shorts and feels your throbbing heat through the panties. you are not wet enough yet but geto knows he can change it very quickly.

“tell me, princess, when was the last time satoru fucked you? or better one, when was the last time satoru fucked you and made you cum?” suguru cups your sex through your clothes and grinds his palm on your clit. the mewl it earns him from you feels almost like honey on a sore throat – he swears it sounds almost divine.

“yeah, you like that, sweet thing?” he asks you, and you’re too embarrassed to say anything so you just shake your head. as your body starts feeling good, you stop caring how wrong it is: you cannot deny you’ve missed being treated like you’re the only one that matters. “you know, i don’t understand satoru. if you were mine, i would keep you under me the whole day. fuck you into this couch until i am the only one on your mind, and then make you cum again and again on my tongue and my fingers. would you like that, princess?”

geto’s honeycomb words make you lose any last reservations you’ve had about this whole affair. his fingers keep massaging your pearly bud – it’s been left without attention for way too long for your own comfort, and your own fingers do not bring you the same level of satisfaction as you got used to with satoru. so you kiss geto again, and climb on top of him, everything else be damned.

suguru kisses you back with a ferociousness of a starved beast – it’s messy and it’s loud, teeth clanking, wet sounds of your mouths moving in rhythm bouncing between the two of you, moans exchanged and swallowed. he is biting on your lip, hands squeezing your hips harshly – you’re sure you will see bruises there tomorrow – making you grind on him. you can feel the growing tent in his cargo pants, and that makes you feverishly hot.

“i will make you cum three times tonight, princess. first, you’ll do it on my tongue, second, on my fingers, and finally, i’ll let you cream around my cock. how does that sound?”

you want to respond back, say something, but words fail you for the -nth time today, the only sounds escaping you are loud moans, borderline on pathetic. suguru takes that as a confirmation and flips you into a position under him, your lips slightly swollen and eyes glistening with the previous tears. god, he cannot wait to make you cry for an entirely different reason.

he starts by capturing your lips with his again, rough movements of his tongue against yours. how many times has he lost himself in a daydream while you were around, watching you lick your lips clean, pink tongue darting out to wipe away any food? geto deepens the kiss and cannot stop the whine rushing out past his lips, immediately swallowed by you.

suguru does not want to pull away but there is something else he is dying to taste. his lips move lower, grazing the side of your sensitive neck – involuntarily, your hips jerks upward, your aching core starting to look for any relief, when he brushes past that spot in the dip of your neck igniting your nerves. you don’t try to stop yourselves from letting geto know exactly how he makes you feel. he keeps moving lower, removing your shirt and caressing the tender skin of your boobs, and then takes one of your nipples into his mouth, circling his tongue around the perky nub dying for his attention. closing your eyes and throwing your head back, you revel in this feeling of body worship. your wanton moans become louder, and geto’s cock becomes even harder when he sees the look of absolute bliss on your face. his unoccupied hand goes to play with the other nipple, gently twisting it between his digits, pinching it just enough to spike your pleasure with pain.

your shorts are gone next, together with your light-blue panties that suguru removes in one swift motion. you are sprawled out naked on your couch in front of your boyfriend’s best friend – yet you fail to feel any shame. geto spreads your legs wider and is delighted to discover the prettiest view in the house: your glistening pussy all wet and ready for him.

“huh, what is it?” he swipes between your folds, spreading your slick all the way to the clit begging to be touched, “little cute slut only needed couple of kisses to get this wet? did satoru really neglect his little princess this much?”

“p-please… ah… don’t mention his name while we do this,” you say, eyes still closed, geto’s digits continuing playing around your pearl, not giving you the full stimulation yet.

“do what, pretty face? fuck? i am about to eat your cunt but you’re too shy to even say it out loud?” suguru laughs, almost patronizingly, and slaps your clit with his hand, earning a surprised gasp from you. you hide your face in your hands, or at least try to, but geto has other ideas. “uh-uh, no, you cannot hide from me. open your eyes, i want you to keep looking, doll.”

geto leans closer to your throbbing clit and spits – your view is obscene, yet you’re unable to look away. even as he languidly swipes his tongue between your spread folds and flicks it around your nub, you keep your eyes opened. your hands grab his hair, and geto grunts but doesn’t stop you. he keeps drawing slow circles around your clit, and you can feel the coil in your tummy starting to tighten. you would be embarrassed at how fast he is getting you to your orgasm, yet you fail to care.

suguru wants to insert a finger but he promised he would make you cum with his tongue alone. long flicks of his tongue along your inner lips drive you insane, slurping sounding so filthy, you might need to move places now – and when geto sucks on your pearl, suctioning his lips just at the right spot, he is bringing you closer and closer to the peak of the ecstasy you’ve been craving. his hands are hot to the touch as they grab your hips with almost punishing force, pushing you even closer to his face.

just as you thought this was enough to light your whole being on fire, geto starts pumping his tongue in and out of you, sloshing sounds echoing in your ears, making you burn hot. suguru is alternating between giving your pretty clit attention, tracing his tongue along your lips, and sucking on nerve bundle that sends sparks to your pleasure receptors, making you burn all that hotter. flatting out the tongue, suguru is running it over your clit and labia, before pumping the tip of it back into your wanting hole.

your moaning becomes louder and louder, grip on geto’s hair almost painful now but he doesn’t mind. looking back up at you, he meets your gaze – and can’t help but praise you for how good you’ve been to him.

“my cute bunny actually listened to me, huh? keeping your pretty eyes on me while i eat you out like this? i bet you enjoy the view.”

and you do, of course you do. the orgasm is imminent now as geto speeds up his movement, licking up and down. your breathing accelerates and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of your pleasure – until geto pushes you over. it doesn’t take much longer for you to cum, juices dripping out of you and down his tongue. suguru is drinking up every last drop, not daring to spill his very own elixir of life.

“fu-uuck, it feels so good,” you cry out as he keeps tongue fucking you through your orgasm, your thighs trying to close around his head to escape the ongoing assault on your poor cunt, but suguru’s iron grip doesn’t falter. you whine and try to push his head away, body starting to shake with overstimulation, but geto is determined – he sucks on your clit again and you yelp, seeing stars. he finally relents and gets up from his knees, kissing you again. you taste yourself on his lips, and you feel the arousal climbing up again.

“thank you for the best meal of my life. that was one, yeah?”

he doesn’t give you time to respond before he is caging your smaller body, one hand moving to the nape of your neck to bring you even closer while other teases your entrance. you try not to seem too desperate, hugging suguru around his shoulders and bucking your hips into him. geto chuckles darkly, licking your lips and gently massaging the nape of your neck while his digits explore where his tongue already paved the way.

the first flick of his digits on your clit is embarrassingly enough to start lighting up your nerve endings again – a hot feeling, something akin to a molten lava, spreads across your skin, sending the goosebumps running wild. you concentrate on geto’s face, so close to yours, and you are tempted to kiss him again. but he is moving away when you try to chase him, and the prettiest, most adorable pout is dancing on your lips. it makes him want to ruin you.

geto inserts the first finger without any warning, and you’re tearing up from the sudden intrusion – you’re lost in the mix of pain and pleasure that you don’t notice the beads of tears escaping the corners of your eyes. suguru leans close and runs his tongue over salty trails, cleaning you up.

“shhh, it’s only one finger. it’s not your limit, is it? i have so much more to offer.”

geto pushes in the second finger, and you have to grab onto his shoulders. you’re curving your spine into him, trying to guide his fingers to touch that special spongy spot inside your tight, hot hole. suguru’s fingers are slender and long – fingers that should belong to a pianist or a guitarist. and you are no musical instrument, but fuck, you would be lying if geto didn’t know how to play you without missing a beat.

“sug-suguru…” you say thought a whiny hiccup, “i want you to move.”

“yeah? you want me to fuck you with my fingers? on the same couch where you and satoru probably did the same thing?”

mention of your boyfriend’s name sends a wave of shame through you, and geto is quick to notice. before your brain can process the feelings of guilt, he starts pumping his digits in and out of you while drawing tight circles on your sensitive nub. still recovering from your previous orgasm, your body is sent into overdrive, accelerating into ecstasy in no time. if this is wrong, then why does it feel so good?

the squelching sounds your pussy makes around his fingers makes your cheeks heat up, blush kissing your face in a way only suguru should be allowed to do. this time, you close your eyes and tilt your head back, losing yourself to the overwhelming feeling of pleasure spreading throughout your every nerve. geto’s hand comes to tighten around your body, and the sudden cut of airflow is intensifying everything tenfold.

your body starts panicking when blood stops receiving necessary oxygen but the pleasure signals in your brain are setting off like fireworks. geto is pistoning his fingers in and out of your leaking cunt while squeezing his hand around your neck just a little bit tighter. breathless moans are escaping you as your body fights for more oxygen, not able to decide whether the line between pain and pleasure is blurring fast enough. suguru is curling his digits inside you and oh! eureka! he touches that sweet spot making white spots to dance across your vision.

“yeah, that’s it. you’re being such a good girl for me,” geto says above you but his voice is coming through a vacuum – the ringing in your ears becomes louder as your tummy is tightening up again. your mouth hangs open, a ribbon of drool dripping down your chin, and suguru thinks he’s never seen anything sexier. keeping his rhythm, he rubs your clit again, earning a broken moan from you.

geto feels your pussy tightening around his fingers, and he growls imagining his cock stretching your pretty cunt instead. he keeps pushing them in and out, massaging your nub with perfect pressure, squeezing your neck just tight enough, and mere second later, you’re cumming again. a broken moan that turns into a sob is everything you’re able to let out – suguru thinks you look so damn cute, he wants to take a picture. his phone is forgotten somewhere on the couch so instead, he commits to memory every single sound and facial expression.

he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, again, and you try to push at his hand to stop.

“no, common, i know you can do better than this. keep it coming, yeah?” geto says with a smirk, and takes both your wrists into his hand, keeping them close to his chest. you cannot do anything but sob as the waves of pleasure keeps crashing against your shores, leaving you to fend for yourself through the aftershocks of ecstasy. sweat is running between your boobs, down the sides of your face – you’re glistening all over, and suguru swears that’s what a goddess would look like.

“g-geto… please… i can’t take it anymore…”

“geto, huh? i thought we were on the first-name basis now.”

“i’m sorry…” hiccup “it’s just so hard to think…” hiccup.

“aw, i haven’t even made you cum around my cock yet and you’re already fucked out dumb? poor little angel.” you know he is mocking but fuck, why does it feel so good?

geto finally relents when you bit your lips a little too harsh and takes his fingers out of you. he brings them to your lips, and you suck on the digits without any further instructions.

“such a good fucking girl. open your mouth wider for me,” you do as he says, and suguru spits inside. “now, swallow.”

again, you follow his command without any deliberation and then open your mouth to show you’ve done it. geto chuckles and very gently slaps your cheek.

“that was two.”

you whine, thinking if you had to cum one more time, you might actually pass out. you try to pout, and tug at the hem of his t-shirt. “i don’t think i can cum again, suguru.”

“nuh-uh, i told you i’ll make you cum three times, and i will. now come on, be good for me and turn around.”

“i want you to take off your clothes.” your simple request takes him by surprise, but he obliges immediately. his t-shirt is gone first, then cargo pants follow. you trail your eyes down and your mouth forms a perfect little “o” when you see the tent formed in his boxer briefs – geto mentally takes a picture of this moment – and you are left almost speechless.

“it’s not going to fit.”

“i’ll make it fit.”

you don’t dare to look away when suguru starts to pull his underwear down, and your suspicions are correct – he is big, maybe even too big for you. not as long as satoru’s but he is thicker, curvier. angry red tip already leaking with pre-cum, and you want to run your tongue along his slit.

“are you drooling looking at my cock?” geto chuckles, and you turn your gaze away in embarrassment. “aw, ‘m sorry, princess. let me give you something else to drool for.”

geto comes close and grabs you by your hips, moving you around. your forearms land on the back of the couch, and you can feel the heat of suguru’s chest against your back, his heavy cock slapping your thigh.

“you’re so fucking pretty, i can’t get enough of you,” geto sounds out of breath, burying his face in your hair and inhaling your sex-soaked scent. he wraps his hand around your waist while pumping his dick with the other. he spreads his pre-cum along his length, finally guiding himself to your waiting cunt.

the stretch is painful – even with all the prep suguru has done, it’s not enough for your tight little pussy to take him in comfortably. geto doesn’t give you time to adjust and pushes himself all the way in, until his balls slap against you. you squeeze your eyes, and little snowflakes of tears run down your cheeks, and your tongue darts out to taste the salty evidence. geto is moving his hips now, dragging his thick length in and out of you. your pussy is clenching every time he pushes against your needy spot, veins on his cock massaging your walls, helping you climb towards your climax again.

suguru grabs you by the jaw and turns your face towards him, losing no time ravishing your lips with his again. they are swollen – he could see how red they are – yet the kiss is hungry, as if geto’s appetite has not been satiated. he is so concentrated on kissing you, he loses his rhythm, and his dick slips out, making both of you whine in displeasure.

“please, give it back,” you mewl into him, and suguru’s losing himself in you – he is losing himself to you. so he gives it back, of course he does, thrusting his cock to the hilt, mushroom tip kissing your cervix. when geto sets a bruising pace, pistoning his hips with the punishing rhythm, you can do nothing but hold onto his forearm – he is the only thing tethering you to earth now, gravity has no hold on a force that is geto.

his slender digits start massaging your abused clit, and you can feel your toes curling again. he fucks into you fast and steady, and lewd sounds of his hips smashing into yours bounce around the four walls – the cacophony of squelching sounds your greedy cunt makes when it sucks geto’s cock fully and readily mixed with your wanton moans create the sex-induced symphony suguru never wants to forget.

you are completely lost to the storm that is suguru geto. he is everywhere, it’s all so much: his hand around your tit, squeezing the soft mound; his middle finger on your clit, drawing the perfect circles with purpose; his mouth on yours, tongue exploring the secrets between your teeth; and his cock being dragged in and out of your crying hole. suguru geto is all encompassing, and you can’t get enough.

geto pinches your nipple, and you jump in surprise while your pussy grips him even tighter. he keeps twirling your nub between his fingers while his mouth moves behind your ear, sucking the little sensitive spot that makes you shiver. soft pad of his middle finger is still playing with your clit, and every single feeling is becoming increasingly overwhelming. you can feel the sweat trickle down your spine and white spots dance across your vision as his curved cock kisses just the right spot somewhere deep inside you.

you think you are on fire – everything feels feverish and suguru’s body heat surrounds you like steaky sauna air. tingling in your fingertips and all the way down in your toes intensifies, and you further dig your nails into geto’s forearm. he growls in your ear but doesn’t stop; he continues fucking you in the earnest, like it’s his life-long mission to bring you as much pleasure as humanly possible.

geto’s forehead is pressed against the back of your head, and he can feel his composure slipping – he has been edging himself for a while now, trying to make you cum with him but it slowly becomes all too much. he starts blabbering into your ear, hoping his filthy words will finally bring you over the edge.

“common, pretty thing, i want you creaming all over my cock. i want you to cum with me, can you do it for me, kitten?”

his words reverberate in every crevice of your mind, and your last orgasm washes over you like tsunami. your body is shaking against geto, tears and drool running down the sides of your face and mouth; your vision goes black and you struggle to breathe for a moment. your brain is connecting nerves usually left untouched as climax waves rush over you, making you twitch in the man’s hold. you’re crying and moaning his name – he is the divine presence you need right now, the only god that’s worth worshipping. you’re on the verge of completely losing yourself to pleasure as you think you’re going to faint but suguru’s voice grounds you back.

“shhhh, common, we’re not done yet. milk my cock, gorgeous.”

“no, suguru, i’m not on birth control, you have to pull out.”

“that’s okay, i’ll get you plan b tomorrow. or maybe even better, babytrap you so you have no reason to come back to satoru, hm? how about that?”

“nn-no, please…” but before you can finish your sentence, you hear suguru groan and you can feel him cumming inside. you want to be mad but the overwhelming ecstasy he keeps taking you through is overshadowing every rational thought in your head now. you cannot hold yourself anymore, has not been able to do so for the past 10 minutes, so you helplessly hang onto geto’s forearm while he fucks his cum back into you.

when he finally slows down and pulls out, the two of you are a mess – the room smells of sex and something akin to guilt, but you don’t let yourself linger on it for two long. he gives you a final kiss, gently massaging the nape of your back, guiding you to lie down. you’re unable to stay awake as suguru walks back to your kitchen to grab you a glass of water, passing out on the couch before he even comes back. he smirks, looking down at your figure, and runs his fingers through your hair, hoping your head is only filled with the thoughts of him.

“that was three.”

© rinniessance do not steal, plagiarize or translate my works. do not recommend me on tiktok, thank you

[runnning-outof-time]

Thanks for sending this in, Cia!! I’m sorry I kept it in my asks for so long! But I finally figured out what I want to do with it! One of my celebration blurbs, Take the Ring, had a lot of second part requests to it…and while I’m really not a big fan of writing part 2’s to oneshots, I decided to here because the gif was from season 5 and it matched up well. So here’s what I envisioned happening a little bit after the end of the events in that first part. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Keep the Ring

Tommy Shelby x Reader (she’s not present here though)

Warnings: none

Summary: Polly shares her thoughts on what happened in Tommy’s office earlier that day.

“Are you listening, Tommy?” Polly Gray questioned, stopping her pacing to look at her nephew, who was staring straight at the wall in front of him.

Tommy snapped from the bubble he’d been encased in, quickly looking over to his aunt. It took a moment for the question she’d asked to register in his mind, but he nodded once it did. He then returned his eyes back to the wall ahead of him. “Yeah, I’m listening,” he answered in a despondent tone.

Polly pursed her lips and kept her eyes trained on him. She knew he was lying; knew there were other things taking up his mind. Her hands found her hips as she watched him intently, wondering if her stare alone would get him to talk. A few silent seconds passed, and he continued to stare at the wall. “Spill it,” she finally said, a demanding tone present in her voice.

“What?” Tommy asked, looking at her again.

“What’s on your mind, Thomas?” she asked, her eyebrows raising. Tommy opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off, “don’t say it’s nothing. I know you well enough to know that it’s not.”

A sigh escaped the sitting man’s lips, and he returned his eyes to the wall once more. He wondered for a moment if she’d drop the subject altogether. But she was Polly Gray…she wasn’t going to be standing down until she got the answer she wanted.

“(Y/N) gave the ring back,” he answered her, his words muddled together as he cast his eyes down to the floor.

“She what?” Polly asked for him to repeat what he’d just said, surprise now present in her tone. She knew that Tommy could have been sulking for a number of things, but she didn’t expect it to be about (Y/N).

“She handed me her ring. Called the engagement off,” he kept his dejected tone, trying to make it sound like this was no big deal.

“When?” Polly asked another question.

“Earlier…came to me office in Parliament. I’d…” he paused, letting out a sigh as the earlier events replayed themselves in his mind. He shook his head, unhappy with how he’d reacted to them. “I’d missed one of the things we needed to do for the wedding. I had work to finish; a meeting to go to. She took the ring off and placed it on my desk…said she was finished.”

Polly tutted at her nephew’s response. She shook her head in disbelief. Only Tommy would screw a good thing like that up. “You should keep the ring now. That girl’s given you too many chances. She doesn’t deserve to be roped in again,” she gave her thoughts on the situation.

Tommy just nodded along with what was said. He had no intentions of trying to win her back again…he made that clear when she exited the office and he went to the meeting. That was because he knew that she wouldn’t hear him out. It was clear that she was finished with everything; finished with him. And she deserved to let that be the case. Like Polly had said, he’d burned her too many times before. This was the final straw.

“This work will kill you, Thomas,” he heard Polly say, only then noticing that she’d been giving him another one of her talking-tos. He looked over to her again, just in time to watch her shake her head at him and move over to the door.

His eyes returned to the wall ahead of him as the door opened and shut, leaving him to sit with his thoughts; the ring (Y/N)’d given him back still burning a hole in his pocket.

*tags in reblogs so that they hopefully go out

…sorry if you didn’t like it - this was how I envisioned things happening afterwards.

MASTERLIST

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 7)

The one thing Uzi did not mind about her transformation was her ability to fly alongside N during scavenging missions. He often had to slow down (thrusters will always be faster than manual flying), but it didn't seem to bother him in the least, especially when she was sharing her favorite songs with him over short-range.

And no, it didn't all consist of Nightcore thank you very much. She was sharing the ones she thought he would like.

Of course, N liked all of them, so she probably could blare Nightcore at full volume and he'd like it, but she was still keeping it mostly mainstream, mostly because he seemed to like singing lyrics if he knew them, which was fun!

Because he was good at it.

He nailed nearly every note so long as he was familiar with the song, and it was gorgeous, his voice smooth as butter and just high enough to reach the minor keys without sounding off.

And yes, it did make her core flutter like it was full of a million butterflies, but that was besides the point.

“Hang on, lemme give you this one.” She sent another over to him, her wings flapping above her as they both glided comfortably.

“How many do you have?!” N asked excitedly, although it was definitely in the sense that he was eager to hear all of them and not that he wanted her to stop.

“Years worth of emotional repression leads to years worth of saved angst, what can I say?” She replied, poking a little fun at herself, she pushed ahead as he opened the audio file, scanning the ground for any parts she needed.

This one was a little angry sounding, but the guitar was nice, and there was a woman singing in the background that he wished didn't sound so sad, but it was pretty, at the very least.

“Do you want me to just give you my playlist? I've kinda just been sending you singles from it this whole time.” She fell back in line with him, wings beating above her, wow, he never realized how strong they looked before.

“Yes!” He beamed, being ecstatic to listen to more, it was leagues better than anything he'd ever heard play at the manor, plus he felt as if he was learning quite a bit about her just through her saved songs.

He noted the complete lack of love songs, there were plenty of breakup songs, but it didn't seem that Uzi had either never felt that way about anyone or she may have just not liked the sappiness of them. He wasn't sure, he was kinda hoping for the latter, she deserved someone to make her happy, surely?

“Here. But we can't spend all night doing this, it not really what we're here for…” She sent him a massive folder that was going to take a bit to install, in the meantime. They both flew upwards, trying to spot things from higher up.

“No worries, what are we looking for?” He asked, just replaying the same songs he'd already listened to on repeat, just at a lower volume.

“A hardware store preferably, that explosion melted all my railguns internals… stupid J… pain in my ass even in death.” She added, sounding bitter. He didn't argue.

“Hmm, I think I saw one last night. I can send you the map data?” He offered, not noticing how closely they were flying, he could feel each beat of her wings. The urge to wrap his tail around her hit him suddenly. She wasn't in danger. What was this about?

“Sweet! Yes!” She gave him a thumbs up, and so he sent the map data to her, and she went silent looking it over intently.

And here he was admiring how she could intently focus of his map data while also flying near perfectly again, if he ever needed to revist a location he had to stop flying lest he hit something. Not her though, her mind was so lightening fast. Not just in this, but in everything.

Man his best freind was so cool. And pretty.

She… was pretty. But that was random.

“Yeah, you did pass one, this way!” She did pause in the air for a moment, but only to turn to him and make sure he was following, he nodded, letting her lead him.

Her tail swirled behind her as she kept herself aloft, it was graceful in it's own way, since she had to think more about consciously flying then he did, and so she ended up doing more spins and tricks in the air just by flying normally. It was almost like watching a dance, albeit a bat-like one.

“We're here.” He heard her shout before diving, and he followed without question, landing beside her with a metallic thud in contrast with her graceful perfect landing.

Okay, what the heck was going on with him today?

“Anything specific?” He asked, dusting the snow off himself before it melted and refroze to his chassis. Ignoring the random intrusive thoughts that seemed to be increasing in frequency and intensity.

“Small screws, wiring, oh! And capacitors! Lots and lots of capacitors.” He knew at least what two of those things were at what they looked like, so he nodded and followed her into the blasted out store after beating the snow out of his cap.

Her tail whipped around into a flashlight, pointing it at the rotten shelves and the icesicles hanging above them, a skeleton was at the counter, still in uniform, and still in the position of looking bored.

“Split up? I'll look for the capacitors, you get the screws and wiring?” She turned to him, with the absence of others she always seemed to smile, he gave her a thumbs up and beamed her one right back, before turning and wandering to the nearest shelf, leaving them both alone with their thoughts.

Uzi was already searching deep in the electronic section, trying to find capacitors that weren't completely broken or frozen, with a task at hand her mind was blessedly empty for once, enough that she was humming absent-mindedly whatever song had gotten trapped in her head.

She didn't sing, she didn't like her voice and thought it was too deep for most songs, but humming was fine, if it wasn't done in front of other people. Robo-God forbid someone hear her not being aggro for ten seconds. But here she was alone, and N was on the other side of the store, he couldn't hear her.

And even if he could, it was N. He wouldn't ever make fun of her for anything.

She smiled. At this point trying to deny her feelings was pointless, he made her feel so special, so wonderful. And he was so happy to spend any time with her, whether it be listening to her music or watching a movie or agreeing to visit a baby with her. He was always down, loving every second.

It rubbed off on her, she found herself smiling more, liking her life more, liking herself more. She was beginning to feel less like a freak and more like a person, all thanks to the lovable goofball she called her best freind.

And she wanted to call him more, connect with him more, but… she couldn't be certain he felt the same way. He was always so loving but he was like that with everyone, he cared, and that's just who he was.

So nothing he did proved he liked her like that. Romanticly. Never in a million years did she ever think she would be longing for someone, or even have a crush in the first place, but here she was, admitting to herself that… she was in love. Ew

But at the same time, the way he had been looking at her in the nursery, with a small smile on his face and his eyes digitally half-lidded. He looked… almost like he wanted to kiss her.

But that had to have been her imagination, he'd asked if she felt better right before, maybe he'd just been concerned.

With a victorious gasp she found a whole box of preserved capacitors and quickly stashed them in her bag before going off and trying to find the boy in question, core full of butterflies but also very very heavy.

N had finally finished downloading Uzi's monster of a playlist and was skimming through it while picking up his second box of screws, he doubted she needed this many, but being an overachiever never got him in trouble before.

He fingered the wiring he had in his pocket, feeling satisfied that he'd completed his task and yet still felt anything but.

He was… confused.

Uzi was his friend, his best friend. And yet the more he thought about her the lighter his core got, in a way that was new to him. Well no, that was it wasn't it? It wasn't new.

It was just attached to a new person.

But… he didn't have a crush on Uzi did he? He could form sentences just fine around her, he wasn't nervous or artificially sweaty. He just wanted to be close, to protect her. To be there when she needed him. That wasn't romantic. It was protective! Like all friends should be!

And yet he still felt unsatisfied, like he was missing something.

“Hey! Did you find what we needed?” He heard her before he saw her, bounding up to him with a crooked smirk, her tail twitching behind her and her wings folded against her back. She was cute…

He shook off his thoughts again.

“Yeah! Here!” He he presented the screws and the wire to her with a smile, his tail twitching as her hand grazed his as she took them, no that wasn't a spark you're imagining things.

“Thanks!” You ready to head back? It's going to be morning soon.” She asked, punching his shoulder playfully, a small laugh left his mouth.

“Yeah! And we can listen to music together on the way back!”

“Sure buddy.”

And with that they took off, commenting on songs and cracking jokes about the stupid ones, flying high to get home faster. With each minute he felt himself relax, whatever confusing mess his thoughts were causing right now didn't matter, they were laughing, and she was smiling. He would figure it out later.

“Is… is this song about a potato?” He asked slowly, causing her to snort before devolving into a fit of laughter.

“Y-yeah? I thought it was funny, and I rigged the teachers lounge to play it on repeat once.”

N didn't want to ask why, but he felt that it was a very Uzi thing to do.

“Hey, I might need to crash at your place tonight. Charge is low and I don't wanna pass out on the way home.” As she said that, a little low battery symbol appeared at the top right corner of her visor, showing she wasn't lying.

“Sleepover!” He shouted, making her smile again, he really liked her smile…

“Yeah, whatever.” She rolled her eyes, but her words lacked any sort of bite. There was a brief comfortable silence before;

“Oh… this one's kinda sad.” His face fell at little as he listened. An orchestral swell being out of place in the rest of the playlist.

I am tired of this dream….

Will it ever end for me?

“Sorry, I don't have a lot of happy ones that aren't also sarcastic…” She admitted sheepishly, she probably should find happier songs now that she was thinking about it. She felt happier now, what was the harm? So long that it was only her and N that would ever hear them.

I don't have the will to know…

Can you help me see?

“Oh! Duet!” He hummed happily, that fact alone seemingly making him feel better about it.

Let my body keep you warm…

Let my essence be your breeze.

Oh. This was a love song, and a rather longing one. He looked over Uzi's playlist, this one was added only recently. About three months ago, huh that was around when prom happened.

Can you hear me calling?

Please look out for meeee…

“N! Look!” Uzi shouted and he looked up, the gas giant was being eclipsed by Copper-9s barren moon, causing the entire night sky to be lit up in a burnt umber red. But he'd be lying if he said that was what caught his attention.

Can you set me free?

Will you take my soul away?

Uzi was silhouetted in the light perfectly, sending warm oranges and reds bouncing off her features like she was gazing at a roaring fire, she was hung in the air, snowflakes falling slowly around her, the light turning them to embers dancing in the air. She was smiling, her hands reaching out to touch one of the dancing flames.

Casting me in cold

Bury me in bones

Rest eternallyyyyyy…

He felt all the moisture in his mouth evaporate on the spot, and any further thought through his processors die. If flying wasn't an automatic process, he would have fallen from the sky in shock.

She looked beautiful.

Will you take me home?

Can we see the moon again?

Dancing in the dark

Till we fall apart

I can't end this dream...

Next ->

[dovesdreaming]

hiii ik ur inbox is filled with reqs rn (it's not Benny I promise...) but I was wondering if you could write an ethan x gn reader who can summon eldritch horrors? horrors as in tentacles from their stomach / back like ben hargreeves in the umbrella academy (idk if you've seen tua I just needed an example LOL) but ty in advance!! 🫶

The true you

Hi this was such an interesting request!! I really hope I got everything right and that the powers are mentioned enough. I haven’t watched umbrella academy but it has been on my watchlist forever so hopefully this encourages me to watch it!! (New hyperfixation incoming) <3

Please tell me if I got something wrong I will correct it!

Warnings: none

You had just moved to Whitechapel after things went badly where you used to live. You were hoping for a fresh start and that you could manage to fit in here.

As you walked into the school building you took in your surroundings and started to gage whether there was anyone you wanted to be friends with. There were a few people who looked kind and if you spotted them in your lessons you would sit with them but for now you could only try and find your first class, English.

Stepping into the classroom many people are sat down and turned away from the door talking amongst their friends. This left only a few options of people who sat alone. One of them caught your eye, he was looking at you and smiling so you took that as your invitation.

During the lesson you had found out he was called Ethan, you shared many of the same interests and he had friends that you could sit with at lunch. You could relax now knowing that you knew people in the school. When lunch came Ethan waved you over to his table and you got to know everyone. You got along with all of them, especially Ethan.

By your second month at the school you had settled in and became apart of the friend group. You had even developed a small crush on Ethan, his nerdy nature just made him attractive to you.

There had been something that concerned you though. As you were walking to class one day, you and Ethan were joking around and he pushed you jokingly. This caused him to stop suddenly. You were more confused when he seemed to come back alive suddenly and didn’t comment on what just happened. You suspiciously left it alone but the whole mood of conversation changed. Ethan seemed deep in his thoughts and made fake pleasantries when you tried to joke or speak to him. You were thankful when you arrived at the door of your next class, you waved Ethan goodbye and he gave a halfhearted one back while he staggered down the rest of the hallway.

Unbeknownst to you Ethan had a vision when he touched your arm. He saw you, well the back of you but he knew it was you, with tentacles emerging from your front. He didn’t know what to think or to do, whether he should confront you about it or not. Ethan had started to like you and he hadn’t told you about any of the supernatural things yet because he wanted to protect you but this completely changed his perspective. He was concerned for your safety if anyone was to find out.

He had been distant for a day or two and this had caused you to spiral thinking you had said something wrong that upset him. The moment in the hallway replayed in your mind going over what you said. You came up blank every time though so when Ethan text you saying he wanted to talk your gut twisted with anxiety. You were going to lose all your friends.

Ethan waited in a secluded part of the park for you, nervously wringing his hands. He didn’t know how to confront you about it without scaring you. When you arrived he was going to sit you down and slowly explain what he saw and how but instead the first words that came flying out his mouth were “I know you can summon Eldridge horrors”. You took a step back thinking any relationships you had built in Whitechapel were over and you would have to move away again. Ethan came closer and calmed the situation down by explaining how he wasn’t afraid you would hurt him because the majority of friends you had were vampires. He also explained how Benny did magic and that he was a seer, which is how he knew about your secret. It all clicked into place now, realising what happens in the hallway. As you cleared any build up of tears from your eyes you looked up into Ethan’s eyes and found comfort in them. He pulled you into a hug and told you the everyone would be welcoming of you.

The next day Ethan decided to tell Benny first and he got so excited. He had always wanted to see this in real life and he begged you to show him. So after school in the back field you summoned your tentacles. Ethan’s vision finally happened and Benny leaped with excitement. You just turned to look at Ethan and laughed at Benny together. You liked where things were going, he had seen the true you and hadn’t been scared off.

Extra headcanons:

-Ethan would be very nervous when he finally asked you out, he felt that you were out of his league. You of course accepted as soon as he stopped nervously rambling and kissed him on his cheek.

-when you were dating Ethan loved to have you by his side for his own comfort and to know that you were safe.

-he felt the need to be protective over you even though you were definitely capable of taking care of any threats

-you would help out with the groups supernatural adventures, which worried Ethan to no end but you always reassured him

-Ethan wasn’t big on pda but he loved having his hands on you in private. Definitely fell asleep in each others arms. I feel he is partial to being the small spoon.

-would be so sweet and such a gentleman. Never lets you open a door again in his presence.

-he is always getting annoyed at Benny because he always interrupts your alone time together. You’ll be lying in bed together and Benny just comes rushing in his rooms wanting to play video games.

-I think one of his love languages is spending time together so would love to do each others hobbies together

-definitely found it hot when you used your powers.

Thank you for reading!

[vintageshanny]

Waiting for Love - Part Nine

There’s No Escaping

Content: March-April 1971, some smut and a lot of fluff. There will probably be a bit of angst in the next chapter if you bear with me. 18+

I have embedded a link here and within the story to my one shot For the First Time, since Elvis is recollecting his first experience.

Catch up on the series here: Waiting for Love

Late March 1971

“So, he’s really insisting on paying for your apartment?” Roxanne’s voice held a note of disbelief. “When you first told me that, I thought for sure he was just feeding you a line.”

“No, he actually was really upset when I told him I was looking for a new job or that I could move in with you. He wants to take care of me.” A little smile spread across Vivien’s lips as she remembered their conversation in the hospital bed. Their conversation and everything that came after… She tried not to blush as she thought about the sound of his moaning as he pulsed in her hand.

“Wow. He wants you to be a kept woman and you’re not even doing the deed yet?”

Vivien could feel the blush engulfing her now as she bit down on her bottom lip and looked away.

“Wait a second! Are you kidding me, Vivien? When?” Roxanne demanded, her voice equal parts anger and curiosity.

“Um, when I went to see his shows in Las Vegas,” Vivien whispered, adjusting her glasses and twirling a strand of hair nervously with her fingers.

“Vivien! That was a month ago! I asked you how the trip was, and you looked me in the face and told me it was fine.”

“Well you had just had a big fight with Michael. I didn’t want to gloat about what a magical time I had. Plus I didn’t lie! It was fine. Veeeery fine,” Vivien sighed with a big goofy smile.

“Okay,” Roxanne said, still sounding a little miffed. “Well, Michael and I are fine now, so give me all the juicy details.”

“So, when I first got there, he had picked out this beautiful dress for me to wear to the show…” Vivien started off, her mind drifting back to that evening as she replayed the events leading up to the big moment. “...and when I told him I was ready, he was just so patient and sweet and reassuring. He said he wanted to make sure it was special for me.” Vivien beamed and looked at Roxanne.

“Vivien!” Roxanne scolded. “That was very sweet, but there was not a juicy detail to be heard. How did it feel? How long did it last? Give me something!”

“Rox, you know I don’t like to share all that personal stuff. It feels like, like I’m betraying his confidence. And he already has a hard time knowing who to trust, I can tell.”

“You’re no fun,” Roxanne pouted.

“Okay, I will tell you that it felt amazing,” Vivien compromised. “I didn’t know I’d feel so…overwhelmed with emotion. When he was inside of me, it was like I felt complete. Like a missing piece of me was-”

“Inserted?” Roxanne filled in helpfully.

“Very funny!” Vivien chucked a pillow in Roxanne’s direction. “No, it was just so magical, I don’t know how else to describe it. I started to cry afterward. And he was just so understanding about it. He told me it was really special for him too, and he looked like he was about to cry also.”

“Wow,” Roxanne responded softly, trying to keep the suspicion out of her voice.

“What? You think he was putting on an act?”

“No, Viv, no, I just wonder how many women he’s been with and said that to. I’m happy for you, but you know I always worry.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry. I have someone to take care of me now. And I want to take care of him, too. He’s everything I was waiting for.” No amount of negativity could stop Vivien from floating on cloud nine.

*************************************************

Two weeks later

“Elvis?” Vivien asked as she nuzzled her head against his soft fuzzy chest.

“Yes, baby?” Elvis sounded tired but still alert. They were finally curled up in his bed at Graceland after watching movies for half the night at Crosstown Theater. The TV was playing softly, but Vivien had already set her glasses on the nightstand, so everything just looked fuzzy.

She fiddled with the button on his pajama top as Roxanne’s concerns refused to leave her mind. “How many women have you made love to?”

Elvis leaned up a little bit and glanced down at her, but she was very focused on a tiny stray thread coming off his button. He cleared his throat and tried a casual response. “What makes ya ask that?”

“I don’t know, I guess I was just curious. And maybe a little worried,” she admitted.

“Honey, ya ain’t got nothin’ ta be worried ‘bout. The past is the past. You’re here now cuz I want ya here.”

“I know. But for me, all these feelings are brand new. You’ve probably had this feeling lots of times, that someone is so special you can’t stop thinking about them. Maybe I’m just one in a long line of special girls.” Vivien swallowed the lump in her throat. “You’ve probably been making love for decades.”

Elvis tried to stifle his laughter at her nervous declarations. “Decades, huh? You’re makin’ me feel old, baby.”

“You know what I mean, though, right? How do you know your feelings for me won’t pass? Did you feel that your first time was this special?”

Elvis quietly reflected back on his first time all those years ago as he rubbed his thumb soothingly over Vivien’s shoulder. “Naw, honey, it was nothin’ like this. I had waited a long time, or at least it felt like a long time. I was ‘bout 19 or so, and I s’pose I jus’ really wanted ta experience what it was like. All these girls throwin’ themselves at me, and I didn’t even know what it was like ta really be with one in that way, y’know. The gal, well she had been around a little bit I think, but she was sweet too. Sweeter than I thought she’d be. She musta guessed how inexperienced I was, but she didn’t make me feel bad ‘bout it.”

VIvien just listened silently as Elvis opened up to her in this way. She could tell from the start that he could be shy and sensitive, but he usually covered it up quickly with little jokes. Now, though, it was like his heart was totally exposed. She didn’t want to speak and spook him back into his defense mechanisms.

“I did feel like it was somethin’ special at the time, but nothin’ like how I feel ‘bout you, Vivien. And the other women, I mean, I can’t give ya an exact count, honey, but it’s probably not so many as people might think. There was a time in the army when I got a little wild I s’pose, tryin’ ta hide my loneliness after…” he trailed off for a second before continuing. “But it didn’t mean anything. And love-makin’ that don’t mean anything, what’s the point in that? It took me a few years really to realize how unfulfilled I was jus’ foolin’ around with whoever happened along. I need a mental, emotional connection to a woman to really be satisfied. And I ain’t never felt so connected ta someone as I do ta you, baby. Ya understand me?”

Vivien nodded, her eyes welling with tears

“Baby, feelings like this, they don’t just pass. Ya got me in your clutches, woman.”

Vivien leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to the side of his face, right where the little silver roots of his sideburns were growing in. “You’ve got me in yours, too. There’s no escaping.”

Elvis smiled but remained a little bit pensive. “I got a question for you now, baby. Would ya still love me if I weren’t Elvis Presley?”

Confusion flashed across Vivien’s face. “If you weren’t you? Who would you be instead?”

“Naw, I’d still be me, but I wouldn’t be, y’know, superstar Elvis Presley. Maybe I’d be electrician Elvis Presley. Or truck driver Elvis Presley. Or washed-up entertainer Elvis Presley. Or…”

“Okay, I get it,” Vivien smiled as she put a finger to his lips.

“I’m serious honey, what if I jus' decided ta stop tourin’? Would ya still love me?”

“Of course I would. There’s no question in my mind.” Vivien answered without hesitation.

“But when ya came ta meet me, it was because I’m famous, right?” Elvis challenged. “I mean, I know ya said ya were jus’ passin’ by on your way home, but I had some trouble believin’ that,” he added with a little wink.

Vivien blushed and considered how she could explain herself. “Okay, maybe I purposely took that way home hoping I’d get to catch a glimpse of you one day,” she admitted. “But not because you’re famous. Did you ever stop and think how you got so famous?”

“Right place at the right time?” Elvis guessed humbly.

“No, it’s just not possible for that to be the only explanation. Elvis, there’s something in you that touches people’s souls. That’s why they love you. Your voice is a beautiful gift, but it’s that light in you that people are drawn to. Even truck driver Elvis would be able to capture my heart with that light. And your intelligence, your kindness, your goofiness…these are the reasons I love you. Not because they’re gonna vote to name the street after you. Although it will make it a lot easier to remember your address,” Vivien teased.

Elvis chuckled and wiped the tears that had formed in his eyes. “Honey, ya have no idea how much that all means ta me ta hear that. It’s hard always havin’ ta question if people really like ya for yourself or cuz they want somethin’ from ya.”

“Well, I will reassure you as many times as you need to hear it.” Vivien whispered, toying again with the button at his chest.

“Baby, you’re gonna pop that button right off. If ya want me ta take my shirt off, jus’ say so.”

“Okay. I want you to take your shirt off. And everything else.”

Elvis let out the big uninhibited laugh that Vivien loved so much. “Oh yeah? Ya gonna have your way with me?”

Vivien nodded as she eagerly unbuttoned his shirt. “Absolutely. There’s no escaping for you either.” She leaned down and kissed him deeply while her fingertips traced over his exposed chest, drawing a soft moan from his lips.

Elvis pulled her nightie up over her head and let his eyes linger on her bare chest. “Baby, would ya do me a favor? Would ya get on top of me and bounce up and down on me? I wanna see your beautiful body while we make love.”

Vivien nodded shyly. “I would do anything for you.”

She pulled his pajama pants down his legs, exposing his semi-hard penis. As she made her way back up, she stopped to lavish her attention on this magnificent appendage, running her tongue over every inch, savoring the taste of his salty skin in her mouth.

“Oh, dammit baby, c’mere and take me all the way in,” Elvis moaned, reaching for her hands. He helped her balance as she straddled his midsection and slowly, carefully lowered herself onto his dick, consuming him with her warm welcoming pussy.

Vivien somewhat tentatively rocked her hips, unsure of exactly what motions he wanted her to do. She felt a little bit self-conscious as he watched her, his eyes clouding over with lust as he watched her breasts bounce with each movement.

“That’s right baby, jus’ like that.” He grabbed her hips with his large hands and helped her find the right rhythm.

“Oh, God, Elvis,” Vivien cried out as he pushed his hips upwards into her, his dick so deep inside of her she could barely handle the pleasure. Elvis grabbed her hands and helped hold her upright as her body rocked forward in ecstasy.

“Yes, baby, tell me how good it feels,” Elvis moaned as Vivien cried out his name again and again. He could feel his warm seed spurting inside of her as she came down from her high, laying her bare chest against his. “Honey, that was so beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, running his long fingers through her hair.

“Mm-hmm,” she responded lazily, her lips pressed against his soft shoulder.

As she finally rolled off and back into the crook of his arm, she smiled a little bit. “Y’know, I was a little surprised that you weren’t even younger your first time. What with you being so handsome and all, every girl probably wanted you.”

Elvis chuckled and closed his eyes, thinking back on his high school days. “Naw baby, I had some dates, but I wasn’t too much of a ladies’ man. People thought I was kind of a weirdo back then.”

“Oh just back then, huh? If only they could see you now,” Vivien teased.

“Hey now woman, I don’t think ya wanna start debatin’ ‘bout who the weirdo is,” Elvis laughed, reaching over to tickle her sides. “Aren’t ya the one who likes ta give Little Elvis a goodnight kiss?”

Vivien giggled. “Oh, speaking of that, I should make sure he’s doing okay. And thank him for the ride.” She inched down to give out some sweet kisses as Elvis let out some strange hybrid noise, half laughing, half moaning.

Tag List: @whositmcwhatsit @lookingforrainbows @arrolyn1114 @thatbanditqueen @missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @from-memphis-with-love @pebbles403 @deniseinmn @everythingelvispresley @little-laamb @annapresley8 @leapresley @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @atleastpleasetelephone @gatheraheart @richardslady121 @helen06dreamer @arg-xoxo

[writingbyshiloh]

Cautious yet optimistic and graceful

Part 2 & Part 3

CW: Morally gray reader, Fem!Reader, John Wick type of violence, drinking, Marquis is a bit of an ass, French is not the reader's native language but there are only 2 sentences in French. Both say “City of Lights” but the reader's French is off.(will update as the fic goes) 

AN: if the title is still messed up idk what to say I have been working too many hours. I have parts 2 and 3 planned if there is an interest! IDK French sunset times nor the weather so just roll with it. I also watched the entirety of community s4 so if he's ooc blame it on that. No beta

The other managers have it easier you think. If anything goes wrong in New York, that's okay because New York is gritty. Paris has such a large history and many different names that it is hard to include in one hotel. In Casablanca, Sofia has her dogs with her at all times so the hotel is a bit more laid back.  Maybe you are just bitter because your hotel in Paris is considered to be the epitome of class. 5-star dining, showing off the best French cheeses, hotel complete with a small vineyard for exclusive house-made wines. 

Maybe because you share the city with a very wealthy and powerful agent of the table. Marquis Vincent de Gramont was a thorn in your side. While never made explicit you felt like he had a hand in making you manager. 

Whether it was him wanting fresh blood running and influencing the Continental or your previous weapon (swords, often French by some weird coincidence) when you were still doing hits for the high table pulling on some patriotic thread in him.  The not knowing gave you small comfort.

You liked the concierge though, a woman named Camielle. You were given the option to fire her but declined wanting to make sure someone understood the hotel, at least during your few years running it. 

The gentle buzzing of your desk phone took you out of the work you were doing. Using the back end of your pen you punched the answer button. 

“Marquis de Gramont asked if you're free for dinner tonight. I said yes.” Camielle told her, her French accent coming across even on the phone. 

You bite back a whine. The threat of Marquis visiting always buzzed in the back of your head and you were sure that while not a member of the high table, he had enough power (in many senses of the word) to fully shut down your hotel. You also never spent time with him alone. You would occultly see him at some “business” even that was far and few between.  

You nod your head, before realizing that she couldn't see you. 

“What time? Did he say where?”

“Huit. Eight. He said the rooftop.” 

You thank her before she hung up, probably to help a guest.

Of course, he did. The location was formal, secluded and your favourite. Should you bring a guard? He won’t kill you, business is forbidden in Continental grounds you thought stabbing your pen against the notepad in front of you. 

While replaying the conversation in your head, the realization that he didn’t specify why he wanted to go to dinner hit. 

The rooftop was your favourite place in the hotel. Seeing other parts of Paris made the hotel feel small, like a normal business other than a safe haven for the criminal underworld as well as regular tourists alike. 

You went up early, earlier than the expected time. You could brainstorm what he wanted to talk about. New ideas that you decided to implement to various levels of success? You're planning on something to do with a section of the Catacombs, but no solid ideas yet.

You kept one security guard by the door, to the roof, while Chidi was someone skulking around somewhere. You talked to the chef before and arranged a menu for the evening. If the Marquis didn't like it you were sure that he would implore you to make changes.

His arrival was heard of before you saw him. A small nod from one of your guards alerted you that he was on his way up. You feel your nerves clawing in your stomach, back to fixating on why he wants this meeting.

While you hate to give him credit, he looks good. A suit that only seems to accentuate his long legs, a stunning red suit jacket, with a black tie and vest all over a white dress shirt. The chains across his vest and ring glinted in the light. He wouldn't be Vincent if not for dressing up like this. You slightly deflated realizing this was probably what he was wearing and not something special to see you. 

Bottle of champagne set in the ice bucket, stamped with the Continental embossing. He didn't change your menu so you assumed that he was content with it. Hoping you only had to so small talk with him until the food arrived or he decided to drop some sort of bomb on you.

“The view is beautiful,” he said, gaze burning into you. Wonderful. You have to make small talk before whatever he is here for is here.

You turned your head to see the Elifle tower situated against the evening sky. 

“It is.” you agree as you turn your face back to him, realizing that he never looked at the surroundings, but was looking at you. 

“C’est la ville du lumier”. Maybe the conversation would go faster if it was in french. 

“'La ville lumière'” he corrects you before switching back to English. “You do not use the 'du'”. 

Heat rises to your face after making a small mistake in French. 

“Sorry. My French is primarily used for business.” You let the last word hang in the air, both knowing what you meant. 

“How you do anything is how you do everything, Mademoiselle,” He says changing the subject. 

Like being annoying you think in reference to him choosing to call you mademoiselle, most show you respect by calling you The Manager, keeping with the sister hotels. You take a slow sip of your drink, stalling for anything to say. 

He places his hand on yours. 

“You approached dinner with me like you approach your hotel. Cautious yet optimistic Gracefully.” 

You sit in stunned silence. He gives your hand a small squeeze bringing your attention back to him,

“That is a compliment.” he continues. “It is good to see fresh ideas in the Continental.” 

You thank him quietly, thoughts racing as you try to pull everything together. He likes your ideas? All of the compliments, his hand on yours, the romantic location. Is he flirting with you? Does his speech about the way you do anything apply to him in the bedroom? What would that even be? Still annoying?

He takes a sip of his wine, the movement snapping you out of your perverted thoughts, finally, you find an opening for actual conversation. 

“I was thinking of something underground. With the catacombs? Or something inspired by them.”

You think he mumbled ‘tourist” under his breath but decided to let it slide. He tilts his head indicating you to keep going. 

“And something maybe like a speakeasy?” You saw him about to correct you but you kept speaking “Even though France only banned absinthe.” 

You expected him to be annoyed and you were only half right. Part of him was irritated, the other part proud that you are learning history. 

A slight clearing of the throat grabbed your attention. The food.

“Marquis de Gramont. Manager.” The server nodded toward you both before setting down the plates and leaving.  

The dinner a few weeks ago was the first time you spent time with him one on one (as long as you didn't include his guards). However, a quick mutual liking based on annoying each other took place. Almost like childish flirting, if you thought that he would date. Does he have an arranged marriage? You forbid yourself from googling Marquis traditions and rules. 

And maybe on the side of your friendship, you had a small crush. You tried to avoid it and push your feelings down to nothing, but a flash of his long legs in his exquisite style, or his voice pulls your feelings back to yourself.  

He could just be lonely. You didn't know his exact age but you guessed early 30s. Given the years of practice and training, those successful in your business were older. You were somewhat close to him in age, closer to him than some of the big names. 

Giving in you picked up your phone and punched in one of his numbers. While the phone rang you picture one of his staff bringing him the phone, probably on some kind of silver platter. On the few times you called him before one of his staff answered, asking you why you were calling. 

“Bonjour Mademoiselle. What do you need?” 

Oh shit. That's not his butler. That’s him. 

“Do you know much about wine? And are you free tomorrow night?” You try not to sound nervous and unsure on the phone, but his answering threw off your game. 

“Oui, and oui.”

Taglist: @heartrot666 (it will not let me tag you :-( )

[mrs-gauche]

Hey guys! 🙂 It's the end of 2024 and I realized today I haven't posted on here since finishing Veilguard.

Well, to make it short.. since then, I've spent a lot of time thinking about it, replaying it, watching my friends who are DA casuals and not into fandom play it (which was very enlightening but also hilarious 😂), so now.. I feel like I'm at a point where I know exactly what my issues with this game are and I've made peace with it. I still love Dragon Age! And I love parts of Veilguard and I had a ton of fun playing it (though probably for all the wrong reasons 🥲). When I first finished the game, I cried tears of happiness that after ten years my favorite character actually somehow got a beautiful Happy Ending and closure, but also tears of sorrow that this marks the end of the story that was set up back in 2009.. and tears of mourning that this story had all the potential to be so so SO much more.

Dragon Age is a very weird franchise in that all the games have been, in many ways, vastly different from each other and to be a fan of the whole series means to recognize all its flaws and changes, but still loving it because of its unique core elements that glue it together and make it so special. I could sit here for hours trying to put into words what I think went wrong with Veilguard, but I know many people have already done so far more eloquently than I ever could. This blog was always meant to be just a positive little corner to share my love for these games and silly VA stuff with other people and I'm sure I will eventually reblog all the two million posts I've liked over the past month, both positive and critical. But for now and the new year, I want to focus my time and energy on just being creative, getting back to drawing and trying to realize ideas about DA I've had for a looong time and that's my way of "emotionally recovering" (that sounds so dramatic 😂). 💜

With that being said... What a crazy decade year it has been for me personally in this fandom... So I want to look back at it, just some rambling under the cut, 'cause I'm a little sentimental now, I guess. 🥲

Before I created this blog, I was mostly just a lurker on here for many years, despite being a fan of BioWare games since.. uh.. forever? lol But I was always waaay too insecure about my English, let alone my own art. I also have social anxiety, so maybe that was part of the reason why I decided to finally create this blog at a time when the fandom was at its most dormant? lol (There is also a whole separate post for another day about how Mass Effect influenced me personally and how it made my biggest dream come true, the enormous honor to voice a few NPCs in (the German version of) Andromeda. Still the craziest thing to ever happen to me. lol)

So, seeing all the crazy excitement and the fandom fully revived this year and all these months leading up to Veilguard was both incredibly overwhelming, but also the most fun I've ever had as being part of a fandom! This year also marked the first time I posted my own art online and I can't even put into words how crazy it was seeing the response to that and I still can't believe that Trick Weekes not only commented on but also reposted it, that is still f*cking insane to me and I'll never forget the morning I woke up to see that. lmao

So yeah.. THAT happened. Followed by what I think has to be one of the weirdest, craziest marketing campaigns I've ever seen. lol Going back to 2022, we truly had it all...

A title announcement on a random Thursday that was probably done so that it would not be confused with the Netflix series announced a few days later. A tie-in comic more than a year before release that was... a little pointless? lol A vinyl collection that spoiled the composers a year before release. A title change literally two days before the first trailer. A reveal trailer that left many in shock because of its tone shift and complete lack of the former title character. A line of Game Informer articles that left us often times with more questions than answers. Every single article being deleted the very next month due to GI shutting down. An actor panel at SDCC happening right as Sag Aftra went on strike. A "fandom" party that had nothing to do with Dragon Age. Jason Derulo. An artbook that accidentally revealed the release date with its pre-order, which was then deleted. Twice. Memes about roadmaps. A second trailer that in hindsight probably should've been the first one. An audio drama by a different writing team with some baffling (but funny) lore mistakes. A combat showcase starting off with a disclaimer that "footage had been edited due to spoilers"... followed by THE biggest spoiler in literally the first ten seconds. The first IGN video with super spoilery dev commentary. A hand-on preview event with 140 people leading to spoilers galore... Did I mention spoilers? lol

That was when I stopped looking at stuff online, so I don't know what happened after that, but WOW, what a crazy ride that was. 🥲 Truly a DA4 Summer to remember and I'm unironically so grateful to have witnessed it in real time with all of you. 😂

Then finally, after ten flippin years of tinfoiling, speculating, reading crazy development stories and clowning around at every gaming live event, Veilguard was finally released and it will probably go down as the most emotionally charged Halloween of my life. lmao

Then it was time to actually play The Veilguard. Which took me about a month.

A month filled with what I can only describe as a crazy rollercoaster of conflicting emotions. Aside from everything having to do with Solas, I'd say my personal highlights of the entire experience was seeing Felassan (I screamed), the PHOTO MODE and even one hilarious "breaking the fourth wall" moment, where I would frantically run around in Elgar'nan's trap in "Blood of Arlathan", to a point where I would yell at the screen "SOLAS, I COULD USE SOME HELP NOW, HELLO???" and hearing his flippin voice literally two seconds later going "Yes, you called?" and I freaked out so hard I dropped the controller. 😂😂😂 Also, as someone who romanced Alistair in my first playthrough of DAO and brought him to the final battle not knowing he would sacrifice himself, you can imagine my flashbacks when I saw Davrin dying at Tearstone.. who I had romanced. 💀 Or the Dark Ritual flashbacks when I saw Morrigan wanting to talk to me right before the final mission. lol Getting the Felassan rune actually made me tear up a little. There are many little moments like that that I loved or that made me emotional, but ultimately.. Veilguard is a game that, for all the amazing graphics and cutscenes and flashy combat.. the more I think about the story and the lore (or lack thereof), the more I end up confused and trying to figure out what it is that's breaking the immersion to me in a way that the previous games didn't.

But anyway... I finished Veilguard, though the DA craziness of 2024 wasn't over just yet and I didn't know that the best was yet to come in December. lol

So.. Years ago, one of the main reasons I created this blog was to make silly "appreciation posts" about Solas' German VA and ramble on about my love for his performance.. I even remember making a post on here like three years ago talking about how I would sadly never EVER get a chance to meet his VA personally, because that man never ever goes to any fan conventions or public events. lol

Well... GUESS WHO I MET AT THE GERMAN COMIC CON EARLIER THIS MONTH!!!

YES GUYS, without sounding like a weirdo (because despite my obsession with voice acting, I don't care for VAs social accounts or anything beyond their work as a VA), but after years of jokingly referring to this blog as the "Ozan Ünal Appreciation Blog", and kinda the reason I made this blog in the first place, I finally met the man himself and it was probably the best friggin fan experience I could've wished for. 🥲🥲🥲

See, I've met a lot of different VAs at Cons before, who were all super nice and awesome to talk to.. but let me tell you, this guy has such an incredibly contagious positive attitude and charm!! lol Me and my friend were literally the last to stand in line at his booth before the event closed, there were TONS of people (there were quite a few VAs at the Con, but his booth had BY FAR the most people in line the whole day lol) and yet he made sure to take the time to talk with every single person, asking questions, was genuinely interested in our opinions, joking around and just generally SO FRIGGIN NICE. And he's just a very chill and funny dude? lol

And it was so funny, because there were SO many people and yet apparently I was the only person that day to talk to him about DA and Solas and he was SO excited about it 😂😂😂 (I bet like 90% of the fans talked to him about his VA work on Vampire Diaries, The Big Bang Theory, Gravity Falls and Nicholas Hoult lol).

And of course, because DA4 happened so recently, it was still fresh in his memory. He told us that he even watched some Let's Plays and asked what we thought of the game and I'm still laughing so hard, because he was literally like "Oh yeah, the lore is MASSIVE and it was so overwhelming and I could barely keep up with it, the whole time I had no idea what I was talking about.. like, what exactly IS Mythal??" LMAOOO His performance for Solas was so good and so convincing and now I'll always have to picture him standing in the recording booth, no flippin clue what he's actually talking about. lmaoo And then my friend was pointing at me like "She's actually a walking lore encyclopedia" and then he was like "Oh, you should've been in the booth then!" lol

And I'm actually quite upset on his behalf now, because he also told us how, when the English VAs were officially announced, he had actually made a post on social media about how he was returning for Solas in DA4 and how he got in so much trouble for that because EA told him they were going to make an official announcement.... AND THEN THEY NEVER DID??? Like, I was desperately waiting for an announcement about the German voice cast and they simply never made one, we literally had to wait for the credits to be published? (Also, the German and French version have only one female and one male voice for Rook and no one knows what happened there, we tried to contact them about it, but no response so far?? It's like they don't even care.) That's EA for you...

Anyway, we then chatted a bit more about his other work and stuff and he recorded an audio for me (I actually got him to say the "Vir shiral malasa, bellanaris" GUYS AND IT SOUNDS SO GOOD, like I was so nervous, asking "Could you do elven..?" and he was like "Sure, it's been a year, might be a bit rusty" and then he just knocked it out of the park?? lmao So I have both Lavellan's AND Solas' WEDDING VOWS NOW. 😭😭😭❤❤❤❤❤)

So yeah, that was my meeting with Ozan flippin Ünal and what an awesome guy and amazing VA and what an "epic conclusion" of this year of the Dragon (Age) 2024. lol And the timing feels so strange now, because, in a way, it feels kinda like coming full circle?

Like I said in the beginning, for years I was always mainly a lurker in the fandom and the reason why I created this blog was to join in on the hype/speculation train for DA4 and to talk about Solas' German and French voices and share my silly edits and gifs. And now I've played Veilguard AND I've met Ozan Ünal.. both things that, at some point, I wasn't sure were ever going to happen.....

So.. In terms of my fandom experience, this year was crazy and whatever 2025 brings and whatever happens with this blog or DA in general... I love this fandom (especially my little Solasmancer bubble <3) and I love Dragon Age and whoever's reading this, here's to 2025 and I hope you have a Happy New Year!! 💜💜💜💜💜

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XVI

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @bettdraws who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

Witches and Their Source of Power…

Elain read the chapter title with a sigh, closing the ancient book and setting it on the low table, deciding she would revisit the text again in the morning. At some point, the words had started to lose much of their meaning, each paragraph making less sense than the one that had come before. 

Elain clenched her eyes shut as shadows danced along the sides of her vision, citing her lack of sleep for the tricks her mind had been playing for the last few pages. She had no one to blame but herself for the sleeping arrangements anyway, stubborn as she had been to give Lucien the bed and commit to her choice. 

As Elain adjusted her position in the armchair, tugging the blanket around her shoulders so that she could rest her head against her pillow, she was glad Lucien had stepped out of their shared chambers for a moment. Elain had spent the entire day with him, and she loathed to admit how awfully nice it had been.  

Lucien had shown her around the Forest House, the memory of his hand on the small of her back as courtiers had walked by replaying in her head every time she had a moment to herself. She could barely stand to look at Lucien without feeling the sudden urge to simply touch him,

Elain shook her head at the thought, attempting to push Lucien from her mind. Instead, she considered the Lady of Autumn’s book. Being a witch in Prythian seemed to have many meanings, some more negative than others. In Autumn, their reputation was generally good, Elain was surprised to find, but she was growing frustrated as the pages went on and she could relate to nothing within them. 

Elain wondered if she should ask Eris about getting her a book on seers, but thought better of it immediately. Eris would ask too many questions, and Elain had yet to see the Autumn heir since the celebration Beron had thrown to lift Lucien’s exile.  

She would see Eris at dinner the next day, Elain remembered. Lucien had told her about their invitation to join the High Lord for a meal, quickly declaring he had to speak with his brother before leaving Elain alone in their rooms. Lucien had not expressly told her which of his brothers he had meant to find, but Elain figured the most likely option was Eris. She furrowed her brows, tilting her head to watch as the shadows along the carpeted floor flickered strangely in the light of the dying fire. 

Elain was nervous about having to spend more time with Beron Vanserra and his sons. She did not know what to expect, and she assumed that Lucien was just as worried about how the night’s events would unfold. She hoped to fall asleep quickly, and that no dreams would wake her, so that she could be well-rested. Elain knew she would have to play her part perfectly, that the smallest misstep could have disastrous consequences. 

Just as Elain’s eyes began to droop shut, she felt a shiver travel along her spine. Instinct had her jolting upright, the room seemed dark, her hands clenched into tight fists as she searched for whatever threat her body was warning her about. 

Elain blinked as shadows seemed to slither on the floors, as they darted down the walls and collected in a spot next to the open window. In her panic, Elain grabbed the object nearest to her, the golden candelabra on the coffee table heavy in her small hands. 

I will not scream. 

Elain silently vowed, determined to handle whatever might be coming her way without assistance. She stayed tucked against her armchair, raising her makeshift weapon as the shadows slowly took shape.

The darkness took the distinct form of a man, and Elain yelped embarrassingly in recognition as his facial features became clearer. 

Elain had never seen a phantom, although she had read about the creatures. If she had not known better, she would have assumed that Azriel was one such monster. She could see right through him, the carved pattern of the window sill filtering through his shadows, like he was in the room, but somewhere else at the same time. There with her, but not entirely. 

“Oh gods,” she mumbled, kicking at her blanket, eyes widening in disbelief. She put the candelabra down with a resounding thunk, her words a hiss so that no one else could possibly hear. “Az, what are you doing here?” 

Had she been in Velaris, Elain would have rushed to pull a robe over her sleeping clothes, but the ones in Autumn were modest. The material was thick, meant to keep her warm as the sun fell and the temperature dropped. She still felt an embarrassed blush creep its way onto her cheeks. 

“Were you…” Azriel’s voice was barely above a whisper, it rattled like dead leaves in the wind, odd and unnerving. “Were you going to hit me with the candlestick?”

Elain was close enough to Azriel that she could have touched him if she wished. “You can’t be here,” she stated, anxiety leaking into her tone. “Why are you here?” Elain knew the answer to her question, but she listened closely as the shadowsinger responded. 

“Rhysand and Feyre could hardly come themselves,” his lips tilted up at the corners as he continued, “and Nesta was moments away from storming Autumn to check on you.” 

“Well, I’m fine,” Elain snapped, pinching the bridge of her nose, quickly swallowing any of her frustration. “Tell everyone I’m fine.” 

Azriel frowned, his shadows whirling at his shoulders, nearly blocking him from sight. “We got your letter—”

“But you didn’t believe me?” Elain interrupted, fighting the urge to cross her arms. She had written days before and given her note to Cora who she hoped might be able to pass it to Eris. Elain was careful not to alert anyone of what she was planning in case they thought she might run off, especially since Beron believed that she was staying in Autumn with the Night Court’s knowledge.

Azriel shook his head sharply. “Of course we did,” he reassured. “We just don’t like—”

“What’s done is done,” Elain interrupted once more, her voice easily cutting off his throaty rasp. She had said the same words to Lucien when he had questioned her decision to come for him, although it felt like a lifetime ago. “Me and Lucien are handling it, so unless you’ve come with advice, I don’t want to hear about whether or not you like any of my choices.”

For a moment, it was as if the world had stopped spinning. The silence was heavy, the tension between her and Azriel thick. She had had a complicated history with the Illyrian, but enough years had passed, and his friendship was important to her. Elain hoped at the very least he would understand where she was coming from. 

With a sigh, Azriel said, “Right, of course.” He looked at her with furrowed brows, an unspoken apology in his eyes. “You’ve been alright?” 

Elain’s shoulders dropped in relief and she realised how tense she had been. “Lucien has been a perfect gentleman, so tell everyone not to worry.” 

“I think we’re all more worried about his family than we are him, Elain.” 

She waved a hand in Azriel’s direction as if to say she did not care. “Nothing I can’t handle,” she said with a shrug. She hoped desperately that Azriel could not read just how scared the High Lord of Autumn made her. 

Azriel raised a dark brow, his expression knowing. “And the wedding plans?”

Elain groaned in response, toying with the laces of her sleeping gown. “If anything, Rhysand can always winnow me away right before we say our vows.” 

“Not funny,” Azriel said with a smile. His shadows frantically rushed to envelop him, and Elain wondered if they could sense someone approaching. “I should go,” he said, confirming her thoughts. 

“You shouldn’t have come at all,” Elain clipped, taking a few steps back as more shadows whirled past her bare feet. 

Azriel ignored her comment. “Good luck, Elain. We’ll see what we can do on our end.” His form became more faint as he spoke. 

“Stay out of Autumn,” Elain warned one last time, eyes never leaving the shadowsinger. 

Azriel gave her a little bow of his head and she waved in response, a dark cloud covering him entirely. “And Elain?” She hummed, ears straining to hear him. “If you want to keep up the act, the bed should really smell like both of you.” 

Azriel disappeared suddenly, no trace of his visit left behind, and Elain could do nothing but stare at the empty space where he had just been. Almost as if she were in a trance, Elain faced the bed with wide eyes. 

Lucien always made the bed perfectly, covers tucked into place neatly, pillows organised. She walked slowly to the one side, her fingers trailing along the thick fur blanket. Elain could hear her own heartbeat, blood rushing to her ears as she gripped the edge of the covers. Her knuckles were white around the fabric and Elain had to remind herself to stay calm. She pulled the sheets loose, flipping them over to reveal the comfortable mattress beneath. 

Elain closed her eyes, knowing that she would lose her nerve otherwise. It was better that Lucien was not there to watch, she thought, blowing a stray curl away from her face. 

“Fuck,” she mumbled as she laid down, “fuck me.” If Nesta and Feyre could hear her now, Elain thought, they would surely think she had gone completely mad. Her behaviour was improper, and entirely out of character, but she could not be bothered to care. 

In the bed, Lucien’s scent was overwhelming, just as she had feared. Instead of cringing away, like she had expected, Elain simply tucked her face deeper into the pillows, unable to stop herself from breathing in. 

He is mine. 

Elain was so tired, she did not even take the time to examine the possessive thought. For the first time since she had arrived in Autumn, Elain was comfortable. Her body was instantly grateful, relaxing quickly, eyes falling shut easily.

Elain could feel sleep claiming her, slowly but surely. She barely stirred as the door to the suite opened and she became aware of Lucien’s presence. When he paused at the foot of the bed, Elain tried to pretend she was asleep, but when he whispered her name, he captured her attention fully. 

“Get into bed, Lucien,” she simply mumbled, hoping he would not ask any questions.

“With you?” He whispered back, sounding unsure of himself. 

“D’you see another bed in here?” she responded. Lucien said nothing in return, but Elain heard his footsteps as he made his way to the bathroom, and she heard them once more as he approached the opposite side of the bed. 

When the mattress dipped with his weight, Elain felt a strange sense of triumph at how little effort it took for Lucien to simply listen and accept the decisions she made. 

Lucien stayed on the edge of the bed, frozen in place for longer than Elain figured was normal. When the time stretched on, she lazily opened an eye to look at him. His broad back was to her, the shirt he wore pulling across his shoulders. 

“We can share,” Elain said softly. “There’s more than enough room on the bed, and it doesn’t have to mean anything.” 

Lucien did not look towards her, but Elain could hear the smile gracing his features as he spoke. “Guess I won’t have to worry about my virtue?” 

Elain snorted, unladylike but uncaring. “Our scents haven’t mixed,” she added, hoping that would be explanation enough for her sudden change of heart when it came to her sleeping on the armchair. 

Lucien’s back straightened, like he had just realised their mistake. “And the dinner tomorrow…” 

“Exactly,” Elain wondered how they had both missed such a small but vital detail. She was even surprised that Cora, or even Eris, had yet to mention it. Perhaps the scent of the mating bond had been enough to redirect everyone’s attention, Elain considered. 

“I like the way you think, Elain.” His tone suggested he was so impressed with her that she decided not to mention Azriel’s influence. 

“Did you speak with Eris?” She mumbled, still wanting confirmation that she had been correct in her assumption. She shut her eyes as she felt Lucien shift. 

Getting under the covers and adjusting the pillows, Lucien’s warmth was like that of a fire as he lay down next to her. Even with her eyes closed, Elain knew that he was near, the distance between them small. She felt a warm blush travel from her neck to the tips of her pointed ears, knowing that sharing a bed with a man she barely knew was improper. “Eris was with Callum.” Elain hummed softly and he continued. “They both had some good advice,” he admitted, and she could tell he had not been expecting it. 

Elain yawned, exhaustion taking over. “Tell me in the morning,” she murmured, opening her eyes to find Lucien entirely too close. She wanted to rake her fingers through the dark red strands of his hair, to tuck her face into the crook of his neck. 

My mate. 

“And move, just a little,” Elain added, her words a breath. Unthinking, the pull of the bond clearly affecting her ability to be reasonable, she pressed her palm to his chest. She felt him tense beneath her touch, he was solid muscle under the thin fabric of his sleeping shirt, leaving very little to the imagination. Elain was glad for the darkness, knowing in the light he would have been able to see her blush. 

Elain could have moved her hand quickly, but she chose not to. She felt his heartbeat just beneath the pads of her fingers, letting her hand linger for a moment. “Good night, Lucien.” 

Elain did not hear his response, instead her mind was fixed on the steady beat of his heart, the sound a comfort as she eased into a dreamless sleep.

[kashlyn]

Lines from the Ithaca saga that I kept replaying over and over again in my first listen cuz they gave me chills and changed my brain chemistry:

The Challenge

"Whoever can string my husband's old bow

And shoot through twelve axes cleanly

Will be the new king, sit down at the throne

And rule with me as his queen

I've heard these lines even before the saga was officially released (cuz I ain't new and been waiting for this so SOOO long) and it felt so weird without Ody's little laugh in the background! Like, unlike the first drafts, PENELOPE REALLY DOESN'T KNOW HE'S THERE! NOT EVEN A LITTLE HINT! HAD TO TRIPLE CHECK!!

Let the arrow fly

Once you know that your aim is true

Cause I'd rather die than grow old without the best of you

No words, just tears and heart full of feelings... Repeated this at least 2 times

Hold them down

And then we'll

Hold her down while her gate is open

Hold her down while I get a taste

Hold her down while I share her spoils

I will not let any part go to waste

I kid you not, I had to pause, play that again, pause and repeat five times because I was seething with rage. Like, I knew what it implies and I just had to make sure like my brain won't let me register it

Odysseus

Somewhere in the shadows lurks an agile, deadly foe...

We have the advantage. We've the numbers and the might. No... You don't understand it; this man plans for every fight!

Did a repeat three times cuz SLAY, Ody! That's our captain!

You don't think I know my own palace? I BUILT IT!

I SCREAMED! DAD GOT MAD AND SIS LOOKED AT ME WEIRDLY BUT DANGGGGGGGGG! I watched the movie/miniseries and he said this there too but chills. Literal chills. Repeated... Idk how many times 🤣 too many to count!

You plotted to kill my son...

You planned to RAPE MY WIFE!

Had to repeat this over and over again cuz the chills and literal tears that went down my eyes when listening to his anger! Especially when he said rape so so much anger in his voice! Like... Something inside me healed. Especially since he ACTUALLY said it instead of just implying it! Like... Couldn't stop listening to this on repeat with tears going down my eyes. My standards have been raised.

I can't help but wonder

Father?

First line and I was already on my knees. Had to repeat this multiple times tho cuz I still wasn't processing the last song completely. I was practically dissociating... But when it finally registered, my heart!

Son...

THE LONG PAUSE AND THEN THIS?! HOW CAN TWO SINGLE WORDS MELT ME SO MUCH!! REPLAY!! HEART IS SHATTERED?? THEN FIXED??? IDK

For twenty years I never could outgrow you Oh, and now you're here

The eldest child in me broke... Had to re-listen to that again

I can't help but wonder What your world must be If we're like each other If I have your strength in me

Nvm. This shattered me. I knew my parents growing up and this SHATTERED ME. Didn't repeat it but I had to have a long pause.

Twenty years we've wandered But today you're not alone My son, I'm finally home!

Had to keep repeating this out of sheer joy! Like YES!

You might live forever So you can make it be But I've got one endeavor There's a girl I have to see

Had to listen to this again cuz it hurt yet feels so right... Like... Ody is getting old. It's bad enough that Tele grew up without him and he made Penelope wait for so long... He won't live forever. And even if he could (ex. With Calypso) he wouldn't want to. Because it would be a world without Penelope. He HAS to see her.

Would You Fall in Love with Me Again

Hurt more lives than I can count on my hands But all of that was to bring me back to you

YES! ONLY REPEATED ONCE! EVERY TIME I LISTEN TO THE SONG! NWYSNS

See that wedding bed? Could you carry it over? Lift it high on your shoulders And take it far away from here?

Had to repeat this twice out of disbelief... Like, did she actually ask that of him?! What?!

Only my husband knew that So I guess that makes him you!

Repeat this over and over again! (3rd repeat and above, I screamed along with Penelope) Like husband like wife! These two 🛐 all hail the king and queen

[slowed down "Just a man" instrumental plays]

COULDN'T NOT REPEAT THIS! It's like a reminder, that no matter how much Ody sees the changes in himself, Penelope still sees her husband. He changed but he's still Ody. As he said he would, he HAS traded the world to see his son and wife. He's just a man. To quote Undertale, "Despite everything, it's still you."

I cried so much guys 😭😭 the musical ended the same way the movie did! With Penelope and Ody in each other's arms!

[nightwriter357]

Are you just playing with me? - Day 4

You know the drill, +18, contains smut(is mostly smut).

This is part 4 of a Damien x reader story, read the other parts before you read this one(on my page). Feel free to comment or send messages with requests for the upcoming parts, 3 to gooo!!

Morning

You woke up earlier than usual, the events of the previous night replaying in your mind. You couldn't stop thinking about Damien's whisper and the tension between you.

Today was day four of the trip. In two days it was time for Ian's surprise party and the rest of the cast would join you. Then you would spend your last night here. You knew you had to make the most of the time you had left. You heard someone in the kitchen, It's Damien, he was always up first. You grabbed the surprise banner for Ian's party, and decided to enter the kitchen in only your Lacey nightie.

As you walked into the kitchen, you found Damien making pancakes.

"Morning," he said, glancing up with a smile. "Couldn't sleep?"

You moved the banner down, revealing what you had on. "Not really, I was a bit distracted," you admitted, moving closer to him.

His eyes hungered for uou, a now familiar look that made your heart race. "Same here. Sharing a room with Spencer doesn't make it any easier to, you know, relieve the tension."

You chuckled, imagining the scenario. "Well, we have some time now," you teased, running a finger down his arm.

Damien set the bowl of pancake batter down and pulled you closer, his hands resting on your waist. "I can't stop thinking about you," he whispered, his voice husky. "Last night, all I wanted was to rip your clothes off and kiss every inch of you."

You felt a shiver run down your spine as his words sank in. "Then do it," you whispered against his neck, pulling back, dipping a finger into the batter and licking it off slowly, your eyes never leaving his.

Damien's eyes darkened at your action. He didn't need any more encouragement. His lips met yours in a heated kiss, his hands gripping your waist tighter. This was it, he's kissing you, Damien Haas is kissing you. His tongue pushed into your mouth and he devoured you completely. You could feel his rock hard cock pressing against you through his pajama pants, and it only made you want him more.

"I need you, Damien," you breathed against his lips. "Right here, right now."

His response was a low growl as he lifted you onto the kitchen counter, knocking over the pack of flour in the process. The powder spilled everywhere, but neither of you cared. Damien's lips trailed down your neck, leaving small marks as he went. His hands roamed your body, exploring and teasing.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured between kisses. "I want to do so many things to you. I want to hear you scream my name as I make you cum for me"

You felt like you were on fire, the heat between you two almost unbearable. "Damien please". Just as his hands started to slip under your shirt, you heard voices approaching. Your hands fell down to your side, as did his, and you let out a disappointed moan at the sudden lack of of his hand on your body.

"Damien, did you—" Shayne's voice rang out, followed by Spencer's laughter.

"Hey, what's going on here?" Shayne exclaimed as they entered the kitchen.

You and Damien quickly pulled apart further, trying to make it look like you were just making breakfast. Damien discreetly adjusted himself, attempting to hide his obvious arousal. You grabbed his hoodie and put it on, hopefully they hadn't noticed just how revealing your nightie was when they saw you from behind.

Spencer held up the surprise banner. "Looks like those two are planning some sort of surprise."

Thinking quickly, you nodded and looked at Damien. "Yeah, we were eh.. practicing a surprise dessert for tomorrow night."

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "Practicing, huh? Looks like you made quite a mess."

Flour was everywhere, and pancake batter had somehow ended up on both you and Damien. Shayne laughed. "Looks like more than just practice to me."

"Yeah, Damien, couldn't wait for breakfast, huh? You've got pancake batter all over you" Spencer added with a smirk.

"Well I really like pancakes" he chuckled.

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep things light. "Well, if you two are done making fun of us, how about helping clean up and get this breakfast finished?"

The four of you worked together to clean up the kitchen, all the while exchanging playful banter.

"So, how did everyone sleep?" you asked, trying to steer the conversation away from you and Damien.

"Not bad," Shayne replied, "but I couldn't stop thinking about that crazy whisper game last night. Damien, 'I have a secret brush for you? I's so fucking stupid?" Shayne laughed at his own phrase.

Damien laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, that one was wild. What about Spencer's 'You make me two bears'?"

Spencer grinned. "Hey, it's not my fault you guys can't whisper properly."

Damien leaned over to you, " So we're making a surprise dessert tomorrow, huh?"

" Sorry I was kind of caught of guard" you responded smiling at him"

He grinned " Well I guess that means we won't be able to join the shopping tomorrow, and we'll have the house to ourselves."

" That will be perfect.. for baking of course" you put your hand on his knee under the table.

He squeezed you thigh * For baking of course"

Evening

As the evening settled in, everyone gathered in the living room for the night's game. Courtney, ever the game master, took charge. "Alright, folks, tonight we're playing Two Truths and a Lie. But here's the twist – everything has to be horny," she announced, winking at the group. The cast exchanged excited glances, ready for the revelations and the inevitable teasing.

Courtney started, leaning back with a playful smile. "I'll go first. Here are mine: I've mastered my seductive dance, I've had sex in a public place, and I love being watched."

Shayne immediately chimed in with a mock jealous tone. "Public place, huh? Do I need to worry?"

Courtney laughed. "You might have to."

Angela, grinning, said, "I think the lie is the seductive dance. If you had mastered it, you would have showed us already."

Courtney chuckled. "Alright, you got me. I haven’t mastered it yet, but I’m working on it." She gave Shayne a teasing look, making him roll his eyes with a smile.

Chance was next. "Okay, here are mine: I've been tied up, gagged, and blindfolded, I have a large collection of sex toys that I've written and submitted reviews for, and I've had sex in a public bathroom."

The room went silent for a moment before Spencer exclaimed, "Dude, that's some Fifty Shades of Grey shit."

Damien laughed. "I'm betting the bathroom one is a lie."

Chance grinned. "Got it. I mean.. that's just nasty."

The room erupted in laughter, Spencer clutching his sides. "Oh man, you're worse than I thought."

Next up was Damien. He looked at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Alright, here we go: I like getting my hair pulled, I've bitten someone so hard they begged for mercy, and I love leaving marks on my partner's body."

You felt your pulse quicken. The thought of Damien being so intense was both thrilling and intimidating. Shayne raised an eyebrow. "I’m going with the begging for mercy as a lie."

Damien smirked. "You got it. But the other two? Completely true." He looked at you " And for the record, I would never actually hurt my partner."

Spencer laughed. "Good to know, man."

Angela made a face at him " Ye, I'm sure that was directed at you dude"

Then it was Spencer's turn. "Alright, my turn. I've role-played as a superhero, I like being called royal titles in the bedroom, and I once tried to use a remote control as a sex toy."

Shayne nearly choked on his drink. "A remote control? Please tell me that's the lie."

Angela was shaking her head. "Omg dude, you are fucking insane."

Spencer laughed. "Okay, okay, the remote control is a lie. But the other two? The Lord was truthful"

Amanda, still giggling, said, "I'm weirdly attracted to you right now, King."

Angela quickly added, "Nonono, absolutely not."

Finally, it was your turn. You took a deep breath, meeting Damien’s gaze before speaking. "Okay, mine are: I love being teased until I can't take it anymore" Damien bit his lip "I want to be marked by my partner" his eyes fluttered" , and I hate the idea of public sex. I mean I would never let someone put their hand on me if there was a chance of someone catching us"

Chanse leaned in, intrigued. "I’m guessing the public sex one is the lie."

Damien's eyes were locked onto yours, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, I think so too."

You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up. "You’re right. Public sex isn’t off the table." Or counter.

The room erupted in laughter, and you could feel Damien’s hand subtly stroking you along your back.

Amanda turned to Spencer, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Wait, what superhero did you dress up as?"

Spencer grinned and stood up, striking a pose. "It was Spider-Man. And let me tell you, when I said, 'My spidey senses are tingling,' it had a whole new meaning."

The room burst into laughter, Shayne nearly doubling over. "I can’t believe you just did that!"

Courtney wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. "I can totally picture it now. 'With great power comes great responsibility,' right?"

Angela added, "And I bet the web shooters were put to good use too, huh?"

Spencer winked. "You’d be surprised what you can do with a little creativity."

Damien chuckled, shaking his head. "Just don't get creative while we're here, roomie"

Courtney leaned in closer, her eyes twinkling. "Alright, enough about secrets. Let's talk about this surprise you two are planning."

Damien exchanged a quick look with you before responding. "Let’s just say it’s going to be something... unforgettable."

Shayne nudged you playfully. "Unforgettable, huh? You two better not be planning another flour explosion like this morning."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Don’t worry, we’ve got it under control. I've been trying to do it on my own for days, I had to beg Damien to help me finish."

Spencer leaned back, a teasing smile on his face. "Just make sure whatever you’re planning doesn’t involve any more kitchen disasters."

Damien leaned in closer, his eyes meeting yours. "No more disasters. Just a lot of... Preparation needed. I was so excited I could barely contain myself. I would have done it right then and there if you guys hadn’t interrupted... the surprise. Next time I'm going to pace myself, take my time."

Courtney raised an eyebrow. "Preparation, you say? Sounds intriguing."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks as Damien responded. "Yeah, it’s going to require a lot of... attention to detail. There’s a lot of preparation that needs to be done before I’m going to help her finish. It's going to take hours, so we should probably stay back when you guys go shopping tomorrow."

Angela raised an eyebrow. "You two are really building this up. It better be good."

Amanda nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I’m expecting great things from you guys."

"Oh me too" you responded, ginning ear to ear.

Everyone settled back into their seats, ready for the next round. The game continued, filled with more laughter and revelations, each secret adding to the growing sense of intimacy and friendship within the group. As the night went on, you couldn’t help but look forward to the privacy of tomorrow, and the promise of what was to come with Damien. Finally

[1whore1gang]

Post MW3 Drabble:

Implied Soap x Reader, Platonic! TF141 x Reader, Potential Ghost x Reader if you squint. (made for f!reader)

SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU HAVENT PLAYED THE GAME

enjoy :)

CW: causing,mentions of death, mental health, grief

It was hard for all of you when it happened. It was so quick, yet everything moved in slow motion as his body hit the ground.

The moment still haunts all of your dreams, replaying over and over in your minds.

It was the worst for you. It took weeks before you stopped crying as soon as you woke up. You’d gotten so used to rolling over and snuggling into Johnny every morning. He was your sunshine.

The first few nights were the worst, staring at the indent in the bed where he’d laid not even a week ago. You didn’t dare touch it, wanting to preserve him in a weird way.

You couldn’t even shower without breaking down. Johnny would always come sit on the sink and talk to you while you showered. It felt so empty without him.

Everything felt empty. Brushing your teeth without his arms wrapping around you. Making food and only making enough for you. Going to bree coffee and accidentally grabbing his mug with yours.

Nothing felt right, and you couldn’t bear it. Luckily you weren’t grieving alone. Simon was struggling just as bad as you were. Johnny was like a brother to him.

Many night the two of you sat in silence in the common area. No words are exchanged most of the time, you both just needed company.

The team all made sure to try to do little things for you. They bought you flowers, took you out for lunches. Price did whatever he could to attempt to keep you from spiraling. He even offered to let you give him a haircut, knowing you’d always make fun of him for how scruffy he was.

Gaz would make you sweets or help with chores around base. He would take you on walks or take you with on errands just so you wouldn’t be alone.

No matter what though, you still had this void in your life. You felt like a piece of you drifted away on that cliff with his ashes. It felt like you had watched your life dissipate into the wind.

He took a part of you with him, and you were afraid you’d never get it back.

You’d spend countless nights looking at old photos, reading old love notes he wrote you. You’d watch videos of him just to keep his voice fresh in your memory.

The only thing you were beginning to forget was his touch. The way his hands would ignite sparks at the slightest graze was slowly leaving you. The gentleness of his grasp was slipping away.

You missed him so bad, and it was beginning to become unbearable.

You were awake one night a couple of days after his death, lost in a rabbit hole of pictures and videos. It was nearly 3 AM, but you didn’t notice nor dare. A knock hit your door, and it creaked open to reveal Simon.

“Hey Johnny have you seen my-“ He looked up at you and realized his mistake. “I’m sorry Y/N…”

It took you a second to collect yourself but you smiled at him. “Hi Simon. Are you okay?” You watched as he began to slightly tear up. Simon wasn’t a cryer, but Soap’s death has broke him to his core.

“I miss him.” He said, his voice breaking your own heart. You looked down for a second, deciding if you were ready.

“Need a friend?” You said as you patted the side of the bed where Johnny used to sleep. Simon nodded but paused.

“Are you sure?” He said, cautious.

“Mhm. It feels too empty in here. It’s too quiet.” Simon nodded again as he removed his mask and sat next to you.

You both sat and reminisced on Johnny’s life. Sharing memories and laughs, you both began to feel better.

“I’m gonna try to get some rest. Just wake me if you need anything okay?” You began to lay down, feeling the bed shift as Simon rolled over with a ‘Goodnight.’

You felt the mattress dip and it’s like your body went into shock. That feeling was all to familiar and your brain was screaming at you to turn over and look for Johnny.

Sniffles began to sound out of you at the feeling and the memories it brought to your mind. Maybe you weren’t ready after all.

“Hey, are you okay?” You felt Simon place his hand on you gently.

“I don’t know.” You sobbed out, not strong enough to look at him.

“Do me a favor, roll over.” He helped you move onto your opposite side to face him. “Trust me?” You nodded and he pulled you into his chest as he held you, brushing his fingers through your hair and quietly shushing you. “I know how bad it hurts and I’m so sorry.”

From that night forward, Simon spent almost every night in your room, just so you both could actually get some sleep. The comfort of having someone there brought you both peace.

Weeks had gone by and you realized something was off with yourself. You woke up and looked at the day and panicked.

You were a week late.

You sneakily ran down to the store a block away and bought a pregnancy test, or two, or three.

Running back to your room unseen, you were quick to unwrap them and take them.

Minutes passed that felt like hours when your timer went off. You flipped each one over, looking at the results.

Positive

Positive

Positive

“Shit!” You yelled, your hands flying to your hair. As soon as the word left your mouth, you heard your door open and Simon enter. “Y/N?? You here? We missed you at training.”

You walked out of your bathroom, quickly shutting the door behind you and standing in front of it. “Are you okay? You look pale.” Simon walked up to you and placed his hands on your face to feel for a fever.

“Yeah I’m fine, I woke up late.”

“No, something’s wrong. Your eyes widened when something’s wrong and your pupils are dilated. Your breathing is elevated too.” How the fuck does he know that?!

“Just panicked about the fact I woke up late.” You shrugged it off, unmoving.

“What’s in the bathroom Y/N?” His voice drew serious. He wasn’t asking, he was telling you to move.

“Nasty stuff really, that time of the month ya know?” He didn’t believe you.

“Let me see. Nothing I haven’t seen before. In fact, I’ve seen worse.” What the fuck? “Please move.”

You swallowed HARD. “I don’t want you to see it though.”

“Y/N. Move. I know better than that. I’m not stupid. Let me see the bathroom.”

It took a lot of arguing before you stepped aside. Simon walked past you and his eyes laid on the tests. “You’re pregnant? This is what you were hiding?”

He turned to you. “Yeah…I don’t know how far along I am.” Simon nodded and chewed on his lip for a moment in thought.

“Johnny’s?”

Although it wasn’t a question, it was more of a statement, it hung heavy in the air. “Yeah, Johnny.”

Simon audibly swallowed as he continued to stare at the positive text on each one. He hasn’t moved hardly past the doorframe, hand still on the knob.

“I’ll help you.”

“Huh?” His words hadn’t registered in your mind yet.

“This is going to be okay. I’ll help you.” Simon turned to you and grabbed your hands, squeezing them. “You’re going to be okay.”

And you were. Simon helped you. You both went to appointments and began to buy things little by little. Simon even applied for housing so you didn’t have to do this in the barracks.

6 months in and it turned out everything was going to be okay.

[imagines--galore]

||I’m Convinced||

Summary: Once the fake-date was over, you went back home, contemplating on what had occurred. And how within the span of a few hours you had begun to look at your best friend in a completely different light. But then, had his feelings changed as well? Companion piece to Convince Me.

Pairing: Superman aka Clark Kent x Reader

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. None, just some kissing and teasing.

A/N: You guys voted for it and here is the second part! Hope all of you enjoy!!!! Also I have NO idea what I just wrote. Fluff? Heat? Tease?

The first thing you did, once you got back home, was remove your heels. What had possessed you to wear the ones that were the strappiest was beyond you. The entire lower half of your legs was imprinted with the straps once they were off your feet. Slumping into the couch, you turned on the television to catch up on the latest news about the newest villain terrorizing the world.

It would seem that during your travel time from the restaurant to your apartment, the Justice League had managed to subdue the would-be conqueror. You watched as the man was being led away in handcuffs and under maximum security. The camera cut to Superman speaking to the Press.

They very sight of him was enough to make you blush to the very tips of your ears and for your heart to skip a beat.

Utterly ridiculous.

You were acting like a love-struck teen who had just had their first kiss. From their first crush. Who also happened to be the most popular guy in school.

Good Lord, so many clichés came to your mind that you groaned. “Maybe I should stop watching rom-coms.” You spoke to yourself, hands lifting to undo the pins in your hair to allow the soft tresses to tumble down around your bare shoulders.

Leaving the television on in the background, you moved to your bedroom, intent on getting out of the dress and into something more comfortable.

However, the sight of Superman hovering just outside the glass partition of your balcony had you stopping in your tracks.

Your lips parted and you glanced over your shoulder where you could see the television screen. Seems Wonder Woman had taken over talking to the Press.

Had Clark cut his interview short to come here?

A smile pulled at your lips as you slowly walked towards the double doors, but you didn’t open them. He landed on the balcony, and you took a few moments to take in the sheer power that radiated from him even with the glass between you both. His light blue eyes somehow stood out against the dark blue of his suit, making them appear all the more mesmerizing. And then there was his smile.

You knew you were mirroring that smile as you laid a hand against the glass. He copied your action, resting his own hand where yours was on the other side.

That was all that separated the two of you. All you wanted was to get rid of the final wall that stood between you, but you hesitated. Your eyes flickered from your hands to meet his gaze. You could practically feel the warmth that radiated from him in that moment as his eyes locked with your own.

The kiss from earlier replayed in your mind, and suddenly you wanted to feel his lips upon yours once more.

Your breath fogged the glass since you were standing so close to it. Your mind raced. You knew if you opened the door there would be no going back. No more walls or pretenses between the both of you. No more keeping the other at arm’s length for the sake of the friendship you shared. Having your friendship change into a relationship wouldn’t be so bad. It would be the same wouldn’t it? Or would the dynamic change completely? Would you become a target for every villain that wanted to harm Superman? Not that you weren’t one already. Being one of his best friends and all.

Neither of you knew how long you both stood there, simply looking at one another. But then, suddenly his demeanor changed. His smile turned.......sad, and a with a slight nod of acceptance, he began to turn away.

Your heart jolted. You felt as if you were falling into a dark chasm. Your entire body felt numb.

All this at the sight of him turning away from you.

With a strength that rattled the glass doors in their frames, you threw them open and wrapped your arms around Clark from behind. You buried your face in his cape, squeezing with all your might, hoping he would be able to pick on the extent of your feelings for him.

“Don’t go.” You whispered. “Don’t leave.”

A moment of silence before he laughed softly. In relief. You felt the vibrations of it against his strong back as you sighed and smiled.

He wouldn’t leave.

You felt his hand come up to place atop yours. “It’ll take more then your words to get me to stay.” He said, his voice soft. So soft, in fact, you didn’t think you had ever heard him speak like that before. It caused a warmth to settle inside you, which only grew when he turned around to face you.

Your arms dropped to your side, as you tilted your head back to look at him properly. Seeing that playful glint in his eyes and the smirk he wore, prompted you to return the smirk and push your chin out in defiance. “What’ll it be then? Dinner at your favorite place?” You asked.

He only shook his head, taking a step closer and reaching a hand out towards you. You simply took a step back. He looked confused for a moment before he realized what you were doing and that smirk returned.

Game on.

“Dinner does sound nice, but it isn’t enough to warrant my presence.” You hummed under your breath, pretending to think.

“Tickets to the next Country Fair?” He shook his head. Another step forward, with you mirroring his action, but in the opposite direction.

“Wally already invited me.”

“A puppy?”

“I already have Krypto.”

“A new watch?”

“You gave me a new one on my birthday this year.”

“A massage?”

“Won’t do me any good. Alien skin remember?”

“A month of no rom-coms?”

“Tempting, but still not enough to convince me to stay.”

With every question he would step towards you and you would step back. Your eyes never strayed from his, and the smiles the both of you wore never wavered. There was something palpable between the both of you, a tension that had never been there before. One that was urging you to end your little game of cat and mouse and simply give in.

But you wouldn’t.

The buildup was just as sweet as the result. And you knew Clark was enjoying it as much as you were. With the way his smile was equal parts playful and sexy, and how his eyes kept dropping to your lips. You weren’t any better though. Your gaze kept roaming over his entire body, watching the Kevlar of his suit stretch with every movement he made.

It was enough to make you a little weak in the knees.

Your back hit the wall, and you knew your game would be over soon.

He loomed over you, arms coming up to rest his hands against the wall on either side of your head to cage you in. In an effort to not swoon from having him stand so close to you, or to see just how dark his eyes had gotten, you turned your head away, choosing to focus on his hand instead.

“A good story?” You whispered, biting your lip when you felt his warm hot breath fan over your exposed neck and decolletage. Your skin felt so warm that the necklace you wore was cool against your neck.

“I’m already backed up at work.” He responded, his voice low and slightly hoarse. His nose brushed against your chin, causing an involuntary shudder to run the entire length of your body.

“I’ll make a pie for you?” You offered, your words coming out in a breathy whisper as you attempted to keep your hands at your sides by gripping the fabric of your dress. A dark chuckle sounded in the room.

“You’re a shit baker, Y/n.” God, the way he said your name. There had to be a law against it. His nose moved to run along the side of your neck, where he inhaled deeply.

Fuck! He was inhaling your scent. A sinful sound fell from your lips, a combination of a sigh and a moan. You decided to change tactics. He had already won once tonight, and you’d be damned before you let him win again by wearing you down.

Forcing your head to move so your eyes could meet his, you spoke. “Swearing in front of a lady? I am so disappointed in you Clark. I took you to be a gentleman.”

To hell with self-control.

One of your hands came up to rest against the center of his chest, where the crest for his family was inlaid into the uniform. The other came to run your fingers in a teasing manner up and down the length of his arm. While your own body burned, you could practically feel the heat radiating from his as well.

Your hands on him did make him pause for a few seconds, and you smiled in triumph, thinking that you had him.

But then his lips found the shell of your ear and he kissed you.

Sweet. Heated. Gentle.

He leaned back so he could look at you and you gave him a slightly annoyed look. “This is cheating, you’re distracting me.” You pouted, to which he raised an eyebrow. “As if you’re doing anything different.” He motioned to where your fingers were now running along the side of his neck and slowly making their way into his hair.

You shrugged. “Maybe this is how I will bribe you to stay.” He shook his head, a gentle loving smile pulling at his lips as he cupped the side of your face. You leaned into his warm palm, marveling at how gentle and soft he was with you given his super-strength.

“I don’t need to be bribed Y/n. I already have my reason to stay.” He stated, to which you gave a little look of confusion. “Whats that?” You asked.

“You.”

Checkmate.

Your face burned with how violently you blushed. Your heart picked up speed. And you were sure you had stopped breathing for a few seconds as your brain tried to process what he had just said.

Your lips parted in surprise, as you stared up at him.

And that look of smug triumph and tease in his blue eyes was enough to break you from your trance.

With a growl you ducked out from under him and grabbed one of your many pillows from your bed. You began to hit him from every angle you could, while he had the audacity to laugh as he tried to shield himself from your fluffy assault.

“You are such an ass Clark! I should’ve let you freeze outside.” You yelled with each hit, his laughter only adding fuel to your embarrassment of how easily he had won you over.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He managed to say in-between his laughter. But hitting him with the pillow wasn’t enough. You wanted to win, you wanted to one-up him.

So when he tripped over your discarded heels and fell to the ground, you threw aside the pillow. Giving him no time to recover you straddled his waist, before leaning down and fusing both your lips in a kiss.

You were the one doing the kissing, since Clark laid underneath you completely unresponsive. His entire body had stiffened, and you felt a surge of satisfaction run through you, knowing you had caught him off guard.

Just as he had done to you earlier that night, you pulled back, though you didn’t pull away. You were still laying on him as you smiled smugly.

“Convinced?” Your voice sounded breathless.

Clark continued to stare up at you dumbfounded. “Didn’t think I had it in me did you?” You chuckled, enjoying every moment of your victory.

Suddenly your world flipped, and you found yourself laying on your back with Clark above you. You didn’t care though, you continued smiling up at him. “Fine.” He stated begrudgingly. “You won this round. But I still have a win from earlier tonight. After all I did convince your parents that we were dating.” He was slowly leaning down, his gaze never once breaking away from yours.

“Then why don’t you stop talking and claim your prize?” You teased, arms coming up to wrap around his strong shoulders. His answering smile was as brilliant as the sun.

“Gladly.”

And then he was kissing you. Kissing you with all he was worth as you laid underneath him, his strong body hovering over you. A sensual sigh sounded from deep in your throat as you finally gave into the feelings of pure want and need that had been clawing their way to get out from where you had caged them the entire night. Your fingers played with his hair, your body arched against his. The latter prompted him to bite your lower lip, and taking your open mouth as an invitation, began to explore you with his tongue. He groaned as his arms wrapped around you so he could shift the both of you to lay on your sides. The change in position allowed him to explore with his hands. Running them all along your body and mapping every dip and curve.

“Does kissing you mean what I think it means?” He whispered against your lips, unable to pull away from your intoxicating taste. “Sometimes actions speak louder then words.” You returned, before gripping the hair at the back of his head and pulling slightly, silently cuing him to kiss you again.

He gladly did so, kissing you deep and true whilst cupping your face between his hands. “Think I’m your new Kryptonite E.T.?” You asked with a gentle look in your eyes as you panted for breath once he had pulled back.

Clark shook his head, bringing one of your hands up to his lips and kissing your wrist. “You are my sun, Y/n.” He stated in a strong voice, prompting you to giggle and blush at the same time.

“You sure you haven’t been watching rom-coms behind my back Clark? Didn’t know you were such a romantic.”

“Mention this to anyone from the League and I will withhold further kisses.”

“I won’t tell a soul.”