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filthyf1 · 1 month ago

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A Long Short Time

pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

content warning: MINORS DNI (18+); Porn WITH Plot, cunnilingus, blowjob, unprotected sex, slightly tipsy sex?... Not entirely healthy relationship dynamics….

summary: Daniel and you broke up two months ago. He comes back to get the last of his things…. And the rest is history.

word count: 5k

author's notes: AHHHHHH this was so nerve wracking.... it's been so long since I've written anything so please let me know your thoughts!!!

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Two months. A short time that felt like a millenia to you. The apartment felt emptier than usual. He wasn’t there often before, but it was more than never. Life felt slow and tedious, and you weren’t exactly adapting well.

It had been two months since you and Daniel broke up. That felt like such a silly and simple way to explain it, but that’s exactly what happened. It was and then it wasn’t. Four years and it was over just like that.

Daniel was let go from VCARB after the Singapore GP. The fans could tell something was wrong from his interviews, and their guesses were spot on. He’d known it was the end and given it his all, understanding that it wouldn’t be enough. His whole life came to an abrupt halt, just like that. What was the point of contracts in the first place? It felt like a crime to let him go before COTA, and yet…

Just as his career came to a screeching halt, your relationship did as well. The comfort you thought you could give was simply not enough. Nothing you could say or do could make it right. It made sense even if it hurt. What do you do when the thing you’ve worked for your whole life gets pulled out from under you? Some people cope and move on, collect the pieces and figure out how to go forward. Some people burn the rest of the world around them and crash.

What began as trying to comfort him turned into an all-out shouting match and ended in the door slamming behind him.

“I can’t do this! What the fuck would you do?”

“I don’t know! Lean on my friends? Family? My fucking girlfriend, maybe?”

“Well, nothing like this has happened to you. You just get to sit around and be pretty. Life is so fucking easy for you.”

That last one stung - his sharp words certainly hit their mark. You played the conversation over and over again in your head for the past 60 days, trying to think of an alternative ending.

The movers eventually came and took his things, leaving both the space and your heart wide and empty. And that was how the past two months went. Your apartment was small, but when a whole other person’s things were removed, it felt much too large.You got to see him unwind and find himself by his own posts and his friends’ on social media. The news outlets were fucking annoying. Apparently, one of the most interesting things to report on was an F1 driver’s relationship status. And the paparazzi had exactly as much sympathy as you expected. You were sure there were at least a dozen photos of you crying floating around on Twitter, Facebook, etc.

It was your turn to feel stuck. You felt like the last four years were a waste. What were you working towards? It was upended so swiftly and easily. You saw Daniel regaining the light back in his eyes while he attended sporting events and went dirt biking with his friends. You sat in your flat drinking wine and looking at the city lights contemplating what could have been.

There were things you wanted to accomplish that you put on the back burner and now regretted never pursuing. Maybe once you got your spirit back, you’d go after the fashion degree or write that book that always sat in the back of your mind. Just a little bit more groveling…

What really hurt was finding things the movers missed. Little things here and there that you knew he would miss, a helmet here, a jersey there. So instead of burning them like a lot of people might, you gathered them and put them in a box. You put your big girl pants on and sent him a text, hoping it would still go through, and let him know he could pick it up whenever he was back in the city. And to your surprise, not only did the message go through, but he answered. It was the only thing you’d heard from him since he left and unfortunately, you clung to it.

It was another Friday night that wine was your companion. Your friend had visited for a few days for some gossip and retail therapy, but unfortunately she had left earlier that day and you let the loneliness seep back in. The riesling helped dull it a little bit. You were halfway through the bottle, feeling the pleasant buzz settle into your muscles.

Music swept through your apartment while you danced and cleaned things here and there when your phone dinged on the counter, interrupting the melody you were currently feeling. Thinking it was your friend who forgot her lipstick on your counter, you swiped the message open without a second thought. Once you read it, however, the blood drained from your face and you looked on in horror.

Be there in 20 if you’re still awake.

Okay…. Okay. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You were very much not sober enough for this. The bottle of wine looked on in amusement and you glared at it, as if it wasn’t your choice to partake in the first place. That still didn’t stop you from chugging the rest of the glass in front of you. Maybe it would help you to be more relaxed or cool in his presence. You glanced at the clock on your oven.

11:20PM.

Late, but not ridiculously so. You wondered what exactly he was doing in the country. But that wasn’t really any of your business anymore.

It was fully in your right to deny him, let him know it was not a good time to stop by. Your sober self needed 3 to 5 business days to prepare for this, but your tipsy self wanted him to stop by now. Your chest ached at the thought of seeing his face again in person. You craved it desperately. Against your better judgement, your fingers sent out a quick, “Ok.”

Oh, God, what were you doing?

Simply put, you fucking missed him. There was no denying or getting around it.

“Fuck, this is happening,” you breathed to yourself. You ran a hand through your hair, a nervous mess. You ran to the bathroom to do a once over; you looked as much a mess as you expected. Hair everywhere and eyes slightly glassy from alcohol. You swallowed hard, trying to fix things, but gave up after a minute or two.

Sitting back in your kitchen, you nursed another glass of wine. There was no going back now, so you might as well commit. A knock came a few minutes later, causing you to jump in your seat.

“Fuck,” one more for the road.

You approached the door slowly like a victim in a horror movie. One last hesitation, and the door swung open and there he was.

He stood tall, not at all bowed under the pressure he had experienced so recently. His hair was longer than you remembered, the curls so perfect and tangled it hurt. They weren’t yours to run your hands through anymore. You were sure you looked sad and pathetic, and he stood in front of you looking healthy and radiant, something you hadn’t seen in a long time. He looked damn good.

A breathy, “Hi,” was all you could muster. You immediately kicked yourself internally. So much for keeping your cool. Daniel gave you a once over that made you feel hot inside and self-conscious at the same time.

“Hi,” he gave a soft smile and you nearly melted. It was such a stark difference from how your last conversation ended. You stood in silence for another few seconds, taking him in. This was how you wanted to remember him.

“Fuck, uh, sorry, I don’t have your stuff here,” you shook yourself out of the trance. “Do you… want to come in for a minute?” You weren’t sure if this was a good idea or not. You didn’t have a great track record with exes and them visiting your place of residence.

“I’ve got the time,” he said.

You’d be lying if a plethora of less than innocent thoughts were running through your head. He looked better than you remembered, and the feelings were still there, ready to be unearthed at a moment's notice.

He took everything in. The air felt heavy with unspoken tension and you wondered what he was thinking. His eyes settled on the empty wine glass and less than full bottle.

“Been drinking?” He asked and a smirk settled onto his lips. His facial hair was growing in, and you’d be lying if your mind didn’t wander. Beard burn was a hell of a drug.

“Yea,” you said sheepishly, a hand running through your hair to dispel your nerves. “There’s whiskey if you want a drink. I still have your favorite… I don’t really drink it…” You trailed off, not really expecting him to accept. You thought he would be itching to leave as soon as possible, the weight of the last conversation heavy on your mind. To your surprise, he opened the cabinet that he knew very well and grabbed the whiskey. He grabbed a glass (that cabinet never changed either) and poured himself a double.

“Cheers,” he held the cup out. You poured the rest of the wine into your stemmed glass and clinked your glass against his. You paused, watching him down the glass, his Adam's apple bobbing and a single droplet of whiskey dripping from his lips and trailing down his neck. Sinful thoughts flashed across your eyes, but long gone now were the days where you could lick it away. You averted your eyes quickly and drank your wine in one swift gulp. Anything to distract you from the images circling through your head.

“You’ve been doing well - at least from what I’ve seen,” you placed the wine glass down in the kitchen sink and Daniel followed suit. The heat of his body was heavy behind you, his arm right next to yours. You fought everything in you to fight freezing. Surely, he wasn’t doing this on purpose? You didn’t have much time to contemplate as his body was gone in the next moment.

He leaned against the kitchen counter - his arms propped his body up and you chose to avert your eyes from his toned form. Two months was clearly not enough time to stop those thoughts from clouding your mind. Was it you or did he just look you up and down?

“I’ve been… okay,” he didn’t elaborate, but the silence explained enough. Maybe it was easier to put on a smile for the camera.

“You still miss it,” it wasn’t a question.

“Every day,” he nearly whispered. His warm brown eyes held yours for a second too long and you wondered if you were still talking about racing. You cleared your throat, not totally sure how to address that.

“Things ended pretty poorly, huh,” you averted your eyes. Now was not the time to let your tears get the best of you. Your last argument was the elephant in the room and you’d explode if you avoided it for another second. There was a tightly wound bundle of resentment, pain, and anger in your stomach. You were mad at him for walking away. Mad that he seemed to get over things pretty damn quick while you were still fumbling for a grasp on things. Mad that he walked right back in like nothing happened.

“You could say that again,” he said simply. You went to speak again but he cut you off. “I’m sorry for the things I said.”

Your eyes shot to his. He wasn’t really one to open up and talk about things like that. He tended to take things out on the track and work through them that way. He didn’t have that anymore though, so maybe he found talking was easier these days.

“Thank you,” you said roughly. Blinking rapidly to stop tears from coming forward. What were you supposed to do now? You never stopped loving him, but you were feeling so many other conflicting feelings at the same time. Daniel made a move as if to come forward and comfort you, then thought twice about it. He was obviously feeling a lot of things too. He cleared his throat.

“So, you said you put everything in a box?” He looked around. If things were heavy before, they weighed a ton now.

“Um, yes, your stuff is in the hall closet. I put it in a box for you - I’m not sure it'll fit in whatever car you drove, but you can always send someone to pick it up for you,” you over-explained as you walked towards said storage. Were you delirious or was that his body heat on your back? This time it did not disappear.

You slowed, turning to face him. He was as close as you suspected, his strong frame standing over you. His pupils were blown, his breathing slightly accelerated. You’d be a fool to deny that his scent was intoxicating. The same cologne and musk you remembered that was distinctly Daniel made your head spin. You swallowed hard and Daniel’s eyes flickered down to your eyes then your throat.

“Daniel?”

“I’ve missed you,” he breathed out, his voice deep and husky. Your heart pounded hard in your chest. You wanted this more than anything. You wished he’d just kiss you already. Your body ached to feel his against yours again. It had been so long. You were both suspended in time, your eyes locked with each others’.

“I missed you, too,” you replied. He looked relieved at that, like he thought you had moved on. As if you’d ever be able to do that.

“Yea?” He was even quieter that time.

“So fucking much.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I wish you would.”

Whatever dam was once there broke in an instant. Daniel surged forward and his lips enveloped yours. You couldn’t help the groan that leaked from your throat. You missed this so much it hurt. One of his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him. His other hand found the back of your neck and his fingers wrapped into your hair. His body was hot against yours, your skin searing wherever it touched his. He backed you into the wall without his lips leaving yours once. You eagerly reached your hands to his hair and pulled on the curls you missed so much which earned you a groan in return. You fit together like two puzzle pieces.

You gulped in air as he moved his attention to your neck, his facial hair scratching you in the way you remembered. Words couldn’t describe how much you missed this. His leg parted yours to push against your clothed cunt and pin you to the wall. God, if he thought you were moaning like a whore now… He suckled hard on the soft skin of your collar bone and your fingers tightened in his hair.

Things were complicated, sure, but this was here and now. Right now you were feeling pretty damn good for many reasons and your present self didn’t care much about the potential consequences. Daniel was a man starved and you were an oasis in the desert.

“Take me to the fucking bedroom before I strip you here,” you barely got out.

“Can do,” he replied between pressing kisses up your neck. “Not that I would entirely mind…” His strong arms moved to loop under your thighs and lift you up easily. He took a moment to hold you against the wall and kiss you again. His need was as evident as yours; you could feel him straining against his jeans. His tongue was hot and furious against yours and you feared being fully consumed by him.

Your body temperature was running at one-thousand degrees and you felt like you were about to burst. Daniel’s tongue was wet and insistent against yours and you drank him in. Soft groans echoed from him and you could barely handle it. He carried you to your room, placing you softly onto your plush bed. His body was heavy upon yours, barely holding himself above you. You took the opportunity to roll your hips against his, eliciting a moan from both of you. You wondered if he was with anyone in your absence and then quickly pushed that thought away. It was none of your business, and you chose to believe the answer was no based on the way he was acting.

Your hands trailed around each other; you missed the feel of each others’ bodies. Something told you that neither of you would last long. Already you feel yourself soaking through your panties.

Barely able to tear himself from you, Daniel managed to rip his shirt off. He looked just as good as ever and your mouth watered at the happy trail disappearing into his pants.

“See something you like?” He grins evilly.

“Shut the fuck up and take my pants off,” you sigh. He did not need to be told twice. Your pants were removed in a flash leaving you in your underwear and shirt. The shirt was quickly removed after. Lucky for you, it was nearing laundry day which meant you had only your skimpiest and laciest underwear leftover.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Daniel sighed.

“I’d apologize but I’m not sorry…”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he leaned back in and placed soft kisses down your torso. His hands pawed your chest roughly, pinching your nipples between his fingers and causing you to keen into him. He came back to place one more kiss on your lips and captured your bottom lip between his teeth to nip at the soft, swollen skin. You rolled your hips into his again but this time he caught them and pushed his own into you to fight back. Everything with him was a delicious push and pull.

He edged back down, but not without placing wet kisses along your torso on his way there. He grabbed the band of your underwear between his teeth and pulled them off. His eyes held yours as he did so and you felt the blood rush to your cheeks. The man knew how to make you blush, that was for sure. They peeled back from your dripping pussy in a way that was almost embarrassing. You didn’t miss when he took the panties and shoved them into his back pocket.

His lips ghosted over the inside of your thighs and drank you in in a way that made you light headed. You wanted nothing more than him to put his fucking mouth to work. He could sense your urgency and gave a cheeky chuckle.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want this as much as me. I’ll suck your dick if you hurry up and eat me out,” you threatened.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

His mouth was warm and the pleasure shot deep through your core as soon as he ran his tongue over you.

“Fuck,” you barely managed. Your head hit the mattress - Daniel held you tight and didn’t allow an inch for you to squirm. Your legs draped over his shoulders and your toes curled as he worked on you. The wet sounds that came from your cunt were sinful; when Daniel paused for air and to smile at you, you could see his chin glistening. He was relentless, moaning into your folds and your head started swirling. “Daniel,” you gasped and one hand clawed at his shoulder while the other held tightly to his hair. “I’m not gonna last - if you keep doing that I’m gonna come.”

“Good,” he barely pulled back. Now that he had that information, he didn’t hold back and within a minute you were writhing and moaning underneath him as white hot pleasure coursed through you. He alternated between sucking and swirling his tongue around your clit. His strong arms barely flexed to hold you down as your hips rolled against his tongue. He only relented when your hips stuttered as you became overstimulated. You were gasping and swearing. It was way too long since you’d felt like this. He pulled back, but only far enough to place more open-mouthed, sloppy kisses along your thighs. He let you recover and kissed his way back up your body on your hips, your stomach, your breasts, and finally your collarbones and neck.

“Sooooo, you said something about getting my dick sucked?” He asked and completely evaporated the heavy mood. You couldn’t help the laugh that exploded from you and you hit his shoulder weakly. He fell back dramatically on the bed, holding his shoulder in mock pain. “You wound me, woman!”

The light humor was nice, but it made your heart ache. You missed this so much and you realized that this ended with Daniel walking out the door. This was all a moment of passion after time apart. He’d take the rest of his things and go back to his life and you’d go back to yours. Instead of wallowing, you chose to shove it to the back of your mind and enjoy the moment that was happening in front of you. You put the smile back on your face and turned your attention back to Daniel. You kissed him deeply and softly once and ignored the slightly confused look on his face.

You pushed him back into the bed and he propped his head up by putting his hands behind his head, and you swallowed hard at his flexing biceps. He still wore his jeans so you palmed him roughly through the thick fabric which earned you a look that could kill. You licked a stripe over the coarse hair that sprouted up his stomach. He was hot and salty with sweat and you craved to take him into your mouth.

Removing his belt slowly, you teased him; how much could he take? To your surprise, he was exceedingly patient and looked down at you with a disgusting smirk. You pulled down his jeans and wiped said smirk off his face by placing a feather light kiss over his clothed cock. He smelled hot and musky, and you couldn’t wait to strip him completely. The pants and boxer briefs came off together and got tossed somewhere along the rest of the clothes on the floor.

He was just as you remembered. You suppressed the whine that built in your throat. He was already cocky enough; he didn’t need to know you missed sucking him off. You took as much of him in your mouth as you could, the rest taken care of by your hands. Another thing he didn’t need to add to his ego was his size. He was heavy and warm on your tongue with the sting of bitter saltiness from the precum that leaked from his swollen, red tip. A deep groan came from him and you looked up to see his head thrown back and his bottom lips caught between his teeth. A small ego boost for you too.

You dragged your tongue from his base to his tip. Following the thick vein that ran up his length, you took him in again and hollowed your cheeks. He couldn’t control the groans and moans that spilled from him and one of his hands came down to wind through your hair and hold it up.

“Look at me,” he commanded. Bold of him, but you had to admit you missed this possessive side of him. You obliged him and looked him dead in the eyes but did not pause your ministrations. You let him push his hips into your mouth to fuck your throat. You were out of practice and gagged once before holding it back. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you loved it. You swallowed around his length and his hand tightened painfully in your hair. His hips thrusted against his own will and his eyes squeezed shut. “Okay… okay, stop, or I’m not gonna make it to the main event,” he breathed heavily. Still got it, you thought smugly. You released him but not before placing one last kiss on the crevice between his crotch and his thigh which earned you a satisfying twitch.

You climbed up, settling yourself on his lower stomach. This was one of both of your favorite positions. Daniel loved seeing you above him, riding his cock and finding the exact right spot that got you off. It was a position that allowed you both some control and he liked being able to see your face. You scooted back and grabbed his length, ready to position him and sink down when he halted you by catching your hips in both of his hands.

“Fuck, I didn't bring a condom,” he sighed and paused. You almost lost your mind.

“I don't fucking care,” you moaned and pushed against him. “And I'm still on the pill.”

“You didn't stop it?”

“Just be glad I didn't and fuck me already, Daniel,” you whined. You knew adding his name would be the cherry on top of a cake he couldn't deny. He took the head of his leaking cock, swiping it through your folds to collect the excessive wetness there, and pressed himself into you slowly. The stretch ached deliciously. It had definitely been awhile. Daniel hissed between his teeth as you sunk down on his length inch by agonizing inch.

When he was fully inside of you, you took a moment to adjust. You steadied yourself with your hands on Daniel’s chest, and he grabbed your wrists to pull you back down to him. Your lips met his in a surprisingly tender kiss that stirred things in your chest that you were having trouble keeping buried. You blinked away tears for the second time that night, but this time a warm hand came to cup your cheek and stroke the skin there.

Whatever happened tonight, you hoped you and Daniel talked after this. He brought you so much joy and comfort. His warm brown eyes held yours as if to say everything would be okay.

“Okay, I’m fine. You can start moving,” you breathed out and began rocking your hips. He listened and held your hips to guide you up and down on his cock. He felt just as good as you remembered. Maybe better. The room was filled with the harmony of your moans and the wet, rhythmic slaps of your hips meeting each other. There was no sweeter sound.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” he moaned. “So fucking good for me. So tight and fucking soaking. All for me,” his hips snapped to meet your movements. Him calling you baby lit a spark in your belly and spurred you on.

“Faster. Fuck me faster, Daniel,” you whined, desperately chasing your high. He complied and moved faster and harder. He stuck his two forefingers in your mouth and you sucked on them, your tongue swirling around the digits. You looked at him through your lashes and he groaned deeply. You felt deeply in your soul that only you two could have this effect on each other. His thrusts became more erratic, his breathing deeper and faster, and you knew he was nearing the edge. You decided to spur him on, wanting to hear his sweet sounds and see the beautiful face he made when he reached it. You beared down on him, squeezing him and matching his rhythm.

“You’re so good, Danny. You make me feel so good,” you could barely get the words out.

His eyes squeezed shut as he tried to maintain his composure. Sweat beaded on his brow and shined on his chest. One hand left your hip to rub quick circles on your clit to give it right back to you. You were so sensitive from earlier that the effect was immediate. One hand flew to muffle the sounds coming out of you, but Daniel ripped it away. He wanted to hear every sound uninhibited.

He held on until your orgasm crashed over you. You hoped you wouldn’t be receiving a noise complaint from your neighbors the next day, but would understand why if you did. Your thighs shook and you couldn’t control how you rutted against Daniel like a crazed person. That was all he could take and his hands tightened painfully into your soft skin. He bit his lips hard and his eyes screwed shut. His hips hit once, twice more before slowing. Was that a whine coming from him? God, that sound alone could make you cum again. You reveled in the bliss, slowly moving your hips to ride it out.

The room was quiet for a few minutes after, save the heaving breathing coming from both of you. Finally, you pulled yourself from Daniel, a soft sigh coming from him. You were battling yourself on what to do next. Now that it was over… What came next? Maybe you would take a hot shower and then he’d be gone with his things when you emerged. That was usually how this kind of story went, right? At least he wouldn’t be around to see you fall apart.

You made a start to get off the bed, but a warm hand wrapped around your wrist. You were pulled back down. Warm arms wrapped around you and then you were laying against his overheated body, your legs draped over his like nothing had ever changed.

“Don’t go,” he said into the top of your head.

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #formula one #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 smut #daniel ricciardo smut #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #f1 fic

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natailiatulls07 · 1 year ago

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Drive to survive

Charles Leclerc & leclerc!driver!reader

Summary - Netflix's drive to survive interviews Y/n and Charles Leclerc about something that caused immense issues

Warning - Cheating, car crash, panic attack, fire, crying, swearing and self doubt

Reader drives for Ferrari

Purple is flashbacks

Y/n Leclerc, Ferrari

"Hello, I'm Y/n Leclerc. I'm 24 years old and I race for Ferrari alongside my twin brother, Charles Leclerc" I sat in the seat just in front of the camera, my anxiety throw the roof. My last season had ended on a bad note, with some personal troubles effecting my focus on track.

The producer settled herself down just to the side of the camera with a hand full of questions and topics that we would talk through for Netflix. "How are you feeling right now?"

Taking a deep breath in and out before answering. "yeah..I think I'm good. but yet I guess I'll have to be" A nervous chuckle left my lips which earned me a look of sympathy from the producer.

Looking down at her paper, she prepared herself to ask the first question. "So how do you feel after your ending last year?" Her voice calm and collected, as if she wanted me to feel that energy, this was what I was grateful for.

It took me a second of debating, debating my answer. "Um yeah, I mean it was a hard time obviously...I had some personal problems regarding my relationship and unfortunately that had its effect on my performance" A pause to think over my answer. "Of course I should not have um let that effect my performance, which I am greatly disappointed at myself for"

Walking into my appartment, I noticed the absence of Theo in the open plan kitchen lounge. I searched further into the appartment. Thats where I saw Theo in my bed with another girl.

Tears were welling up in my eyes, I had been dating him since I was just twenty but yet he decided to throw that away for some girl. "What the fuck?!" Shock, betrayal and heartbreak. Thats all I felt.

That night I kicked him and his sidechick out of my appartment, wanting to see nothing of them ever again. Luckily my three brothers were coming round that evening. So when they saw me, cheeks burned with tears, they knew something happened.

It was the last grand prix of the season, Abu Dhabi, I was sat in p4 just awaiting for the five red lights to flash away. My head was clogged with that day, the day I got heartbroken. "Radio check, radio check" My race engineers voice came through my headset.

"Loud and clear..." Voice low and weary as I replied.

"Y/n...you can do it, just forget and clear your mind" He knew of my heartache, heck everyone knew, wanting nothing more for me to end the season on a high note.

That race was my worst race to date. I didn't finish it. It was the Abu Dhabi race where I crashed, the Abu Dhabi race where I just sat by my burning car tangled up in a panic attack. I couldn't control my breathing or my mind.

Not my finest hour, in my opinion it was my very worse.

Looking down at my lap, I could see my leg persistantly bumping up and down. It was hard to talk about that time. "What was your first instinct to your crash?" The producer asked her next question.

Once again my mind was casted back to that night. "Well um I remember that after I got out of my car, I couldn't stop crying and I couldn't control my breathing. I was having a panic attack and I just couldn't calm myself down"

It was loud. I could hear the safety team trying to calm down the fire. I could hear fans watching on from the sidelines. I could hear my race engineer trying to calm me down through my headset. I felt like I was moving away from the real world every second.

My mind couldn't focus on one thing. I felt the warmth of the fire on my body. I felt the hands of a safety team member trying to bring me back down to earth.

When Charles heard the red flag through his radio, his mind went straight to Y/n. Where was Y/n? Is Y/n okay? Growing up Charles grew more and more protective of his twin.

So when he saw her car and herself not in attendance of the Ferrari, he became even the more distressed. But when he saw the crash on the large television screen, he set off run towards it much to the team dismay.

Charles ran until he reached the burn car. He saw her sat there curled up in her arms.

"Bébé bébé peux-tu m'entendre? Je suis là, souffle souffle écoute mon coeur" He pulled her into himself, moving her head to rest just above his heart. Wanting her to hear his heartbeat and copy it.

Charles knew of her panic attacks, he watched them grow worse and worse as they grew up. But he always knew how to help her, calm her down and breath.

Charles Leclerc, Ferrari

"How did you feel when you saw your teammate and sister crash and then have a panic attack?" The producer asked the 25 year old Ferrari driver.

His eyes downcasted, that night was his nightmare. "I remember feeling um this sense of terror fill me when I saw her crash. Aside from being my teammate at Ferrari, Y/n is my twinsister. She's has always had her panic attacks but that night..." Charles felt his eye water up even at the thought.

"That night was the worst panic attack she has ever had, I don't think I'll recover from that night" Standing up from his chair, Charles walked away from the camera. Tears flooding down his cheeks.

Y/n Leclerc, Ferrari

"It was only when Charles came that I started to come back down to earth. It's always when he comes that I come back." It was always Charles who helped me through my panic attacks.

Charles. He has been my rock ever since forever. He had been my rock when times got rough and tough. Before each race checking on me and everyday checking on me. He knew how hard I was taking my breakup and just wanted to help me through that.

Once again, I took in another deep breath, trying to distance myself from that night. "So 2023, how are you feeling about returning to Ferrari with Charles by your side?" The producer continued.

A small smile made its way to my face. "Yeah um I'm excited of course. I love racing, I love getting behind that wheel and fighting for a place on the podium, fighting for first place" Nodding my head, with approval of my comment.

"Well thank you so much for talking with us today, I know it's hard to talk about something like that" The camera were cut off, we both stood up from our seats.

Walking out of the studio, I felt a sense of relief and solace fall on my shoulders. This replacing the deep sorrow and disappointment.

I heard my appartment door open and close. Walking into the kitchen lounge, Charles had a proud smile on his face. "Whats got you smile like that?" I laughed at my confusion, Charles joining in with my amused laughter.

"Lucy, your manager, just called me and she told me about your interview with Netflix today...I'm so proud of you baby sis" His tears cloud his waterline whilst tears of my own clouded my own.

Finally, I had gotten over my anxiety and my regret. I could breath again.

#formula one #formula one x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #x sister reader #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #lorenzo leclerc #pascale leclerc #f1 #formula one x y/n #lando norris #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #lewis hamilton #george russell #yuki tsunoda #fernando alonso #carlos sainz

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mixes-archive · 21 days ago

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SUPER GRAPHIC ULTRA MODERN GIRL ✰

Arcee x fem! human! reader

SUMMARY: Being unabashedly feminine while working in a male-dominated field is EXHAUSTING. But thank Primus Arcee and you have each other to cope.

TAGS: winners possibly winning, cute fluff, the stove is not even on yet-burn, shitting on men a bit in spirit of this song

A/N: I BET THIS WASNT THE COMBACK ANY OF YOU WERE EXPECTING LOLOL - I won’t bore anyone with a long story, my ask box is open if you’re curious about anything.

This is my first fic in years, and my first for Transformers, so I hope its atleast somewhat enjoyable??

Arcee was, well…

confused, if an Autobot can be, at herself and her emotions.

Servos tracing the round part of her helm as she loses herself to her thoughts - about you.

The little human who had somehow, some way, crawled itself into the deepest parts of her processor. And with no great difficulty either, she was almost enamoured with you since she’d first laid her optics on your little form.

Finding reason for that wouldn’t be as hard as anyone would think either - for being such a tough and independent bot, having purely masculine friends doesn’t get tiring. (After you’d told her about the human equivalent of her experience, she was glad she lacked a sense of smell)

Now, she loves her crew, she really does, but first being one of the few feminine-presenting cybertonians and now seemingly the only one on earth (with exception of Airachnid) - it would have been hard not feeling lonely, while also admired by too many.

It was overwhelming and so, so lonely.

They’d previously brought a few humans in on their situation, to put it mildly. Unfortunate souls that couldn’t overlook the brightly coloured, obscenely tall and heavy machines shifting almost magically, in a badly hidden spot.

Of course, luck had been on their side, because they were all willing to stay silent, sometimes even helping out with stuff the autobots couldn’t do themselves.

Yes, they were lucky. But Arcee did not feel that way because as it turned out, they’d all ben men.

Not that she’d treated them as anything less than because of that of course, but she still couldn’t help but crave that true connection of someone likeminded.

So when Bumblebee came crashing into their hideout with a frilly, pink… thing in his servos, she was excited.

You’d looked so adorable, sharing her colour-way even, as if sent by Primus himself, saying: ‘Here Arcee, for all your troubles.’

Arcee made it no secret that she’d claimed you as hers. From the start she was by your side, giving you a comforting glance when Optimus gave you the run-down, and having her servo on the small of your back when you’d eventually met all the others. The others don’t think they’d ever seen her talk that much.

And the sentiment wasn’t one-sided either.

As much as it was upsetting to be basically kidnapped by a (admittedly very cool-looking) Camaro because you’d spotted it- him shifting to bend into a humanoid shape to pet a cat, you did have to admit it wasn’t a terrible situation to be in. At least you now had the confirmation that aliens wouldn’t cause harm to you.

Though once you’d been informed that really, they hadn’t planned on staying on earth as a long as they did, and really, really couldn’t afford to be known about on a bigger scale, you felt sympathy for them.

And something deeper for the nice, pink robot comforting you through all these plot-developments.

You ended up chatting so much that the night ended at dawn, along with a private lesson in motorcycling from Arcee herself. Turned out you actually lived close by and you promised each other to meet again soon.

Maybe it was the excitement of finally meeting someone that you clicked with so well and so quick, maybe the tiredness clouding your brain or maybe the fact that the first person you’ve found yourself attracted to is a 9 foot tall robo-woman, but you kissed her display before running into the safety of your house.

If she had speakers, Arcee is certain the entire neighbourhood would have woken up to hear Katy Perry playing.

#transformers x reader #arcee x reader #giggles kicks feet I mighhttttt make a pt 2

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senditcolton · 1 year ago

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If You Want It Done

summary: after a disappointing playoff loss, brady reappears on your doorstep eight months after he ended things. and he has nothing on his mind but taking out his frustrations by having you desperate and keening for him once again. however, you aren't about to submit without a fight.

song inspo: NFWB by Hozier & Rats by Motionless in White word count: 5.1k warnings: feminine reader. smut! hair pulling, fingering, unprotected penetration, spanking, slight choking, oral (m receiving), and - as always - a healthy amount of dirty talk. plus somewhat toxic and insanely cocky brady.

a/n: no tricks here. just a sweet treat in the form of long- awaited Brady Skjei smut. technically it's a continuation of this blurb, but i just combined the original and the addition into one fic for you all. enjoy and happy halloween.

Sadness. Humiliation. Shame.

Those should be the emotions running through Brady as the plane lands back in Carolina after Game 4 of the Eastern Conference Finals. Because he wasn’t back ready to fight for another win. He was here to pack his bags and go home.

The best team in the Metro. Swept. By a wild card team who barely made the playoffs.

It was a disaster, an embarrassment. And Brady should feel the heavy weight of that failure, even if he might only be responsible for one-nineteenth of the blame. Or, at least, he should feel the waves of sadness crashing over him about the way it ended, or the mere fact that it did end.

But he didn’t. Perhaps he had earlier, when that final buzzer sounded and the fans in South Florida cheered. But now, having sat with those feelings for the better part of 24 hours, he was no longer sad.

He was angry.

And so, when the wheels touched down in Raleigh and he collected his car, he didn’t drive home.

Instead, he drove to yours.

A tired sigh leaves you as you pull up to your quaint cottage-style home. A long work week was cause for an even longer relaxing weekend and you were ready to start that weekend by getting inside and having a long nap. Or a strong drink. Or perhaps both.

However, after hopping out of your car and wandering up the small path that leads to your front door, your plans placed on a momentary hold when you see someone leaning against your siding, their baseball cap pulled low.

“I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling,” you call out, ready for this stranger to flash you an award-winning smile and tell you all about how their company could save you money on roofing repairs after last week’s storm.

But when their head lifts, you stop in your tracks as you recognize the face staring back at you.

Hell, you used to wake up to it every morning for eight months. Until he ended things.

“Brady.”

His name falls from your mouth in complete practiced apathy. You didn’t need him to know how much time you spent crying over him in the last month. You especially didn’t need him to know how your heart still skipped a beat when his eyes connected to yours.

“Did you see the game?” he asks.

“I heard.”

“And?”

“And what? Do you want to cry for you?”

There’s a humorless chuckle that comes from Brady as his head falls before he takes a step towards you.

“You always knew how to make me feel better,” he says, the sarcasm lacing his voice. And when you hear it, that dry scathing tone, you realize that you didn’t recognize the man in front of you.

Brady was always soft, gentle, welcoming. It made the dichotomy between you even more obvious; you all sharp edges and harsh words and burning fire. It was part of the reason the two of you broke up.

But this Brady… there was something different. Something dangerous. it intrigued you. But not enough for you to give in.

“I’m not going to coddle you, Brady. You should know that by now.”

“I don’t want your sympathy.”

“What do you want then?” you ask, finally taking a few steps forward, closing the gap between you and your front door. “You want my pity? You want me to say ‘poor you, poor Brady’?”

It’s your turn to let a scoff fall from your lips as you reach into your bag for your keys, Brady now behind you.

“If you wanted someone to feel sorry for you, you came to the wrong fucking house,” you explain, unlocking the door.

Before you can even reach the handle, you feel Brady step forward, his hands falling on your hips as his body crowds you into the smooth wood. You attempt to take a deep breath to calm your heart but it doesn’t help because when you breathe in, your senses are filled with the smell of his cologne. A smell so familiar. One you missed.

Brady moves closer, his body almost pinning you to the door and you can’t stop your knees from trembling as you feel the heat of him behind you.

“I came here because I missed you,” he whispers into your ear.

“And it took you getting your ass kicked to realize that?” you shoot back. Although, the waver in your voice betrays you, revealing how much your body was responding to him; his touch, his words, his warmth. Brady just lets his previous sentence continue, as if he didn’t even hear you.

“And because I know you missed me just as much.”

You couldn’t let him do this – let him come crawling back to you when he was broken or bored. You no longer belonged to him. It was a recipe for disaster.

“I think you’ve forgotten that I’m not one of those girls that would fall on their knees for you.”

“You seemed to enjoy being on your knees for me when we were together.”

“And we’re not together anymore. So, find someone else to fuck your frustrations out on.”

“Is that what you did?”

“None of your business.”

You feel his grip on your hips tighten and you barely have time to react as he effortlessly spins your body until your back is pressed against the wood of the door, your eyes now looking up at him.

“You’re lying.”

Brady almost spits out the words, as if even the barest suggestion that what you said was true was poison to him. Your eyes follow the movement in his temple, the clenching of his jaw, the storm in his eyes. This wasn’t the side of Brady that you knew.

But it was a side that you were always curious to discover. Throughout those eight months, you wanted to know if Brady had that same fire hiding within him – a passion and intensity that could match yours. And now, you could finally see it peeking through.

You wanted it to come out completely.

“And you can tell?” you ask, wielding your words with edge and precision. “Does that make you feel worse? If I told you about all the other men that ended up in my bed?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I wouldn’t? Are you sure? You knew what you giving up when you left. Can’t blame me for moving on.”

“You wouldn’t,” Brady repeats, one hand falling away and you barely have time to comprehend where it had gone when you feel the steady weight of the door fall away from you.

Your body lurches back, the momentum pulling you until it is abruptly stopped by Brady’s strong arms, pulling you close and lifting you over the threshold. Your feet find the hardwood of your floors before Brady is spinning you again and you find yourself pressed against the door once more, this time inside your house instead of without.

“You wouldn’t,” he reiterates, “because no one could make you feel as good as I did.”

You hear the deadbolt click, the sound causing the heat pool in your stomach. Brady’s hand moves back to your hip, pulling you close again as he leans in until your lips are barely touching. It’s intoxicating, having him this close to you once again. You are about to surge forward, connect your lips to his, let your fire burn with his. Until Brady speaks again.

“No one could make you feel as good as I’m about to.”

That statement pulls all rationality from you and you don’t hesitate to close the gap between you, crashing your lips onto his. Brady returns the kiss with as much intensity, his hands gripping you tighter while yours move to trace over his arms, his broad shoulders before tangling into that salt-and-pepper hair. The kiss is frantic, all teeth and tongues and it takes a moment before Brady finally pulls away, connecting those brown eyes to your own

“You’re mine,” he whispers. “You always will be.”

The words cut right through you; as a threat or a promise, you weren’t really sure. But the instant that Brady crashes his lips back into yours, you find that you don’t care.

God, you missed this. You would be lying if you didn’t spend many restless nights reminiscing on how his hands felt on your body. How his lips felt on your skin.

But you wouldn’t tell him that. The words would never leave your mouth, not while Brady is standing in front of you. You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. At least, not yet.

Instead, you get lost in Brady’s kisses, your hands coming to tangle deeper in his hair, pulling him closer to you as your hips roll up to meet his. You think you can hear a dark chuckle rumble from Brady and vibrate directly into your body, sending sparks of electricity flowing through you. His hands roam across your body, up from your hips to the soft material of your blouse before landing on your breasts, giving them a squeeze, causing your head to fall back.

“Missed these perfect tits,” he mumbles, his movements against your chest continuing in response to the soft moan falling from your mouth. Your moan turns into a sharp gasp as Brady grips the center of your shirt and tears it open. The sound of the buttons scattering across the hardwood floor floods your ears and it inexplicably turns you on even more.

If this was any other man, you would be pissed off at him for ruining your one of your favorite shirts. But this was Brady. A new Brady.

In those eight months you were with him, he was nothing but a gentleman, both outside and inside the bedroom. And he was more than satisfactory. But you knew there had to be something underneath all that charm. An untamed animal just waiting to be unchained.

And if this was the key to its cage, you weren’t about to stop everything to cry over a few buttons. But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to complain at all.

“You’re buying me a new shirt,” you mutter against Brady’s lips. Brady swiftly removes his mouth from yours as he looks down at your newly exposed bra.

“Gonna buy you something new to wear under it,” comes his response as his thumbs trace over the edge of the plain nude material and this time, you can stop your eyes from rolling in annoyance.

“Do you really think I wear lingerie to work?” you quip, staring up at him.

You can see his eyes harden and it is in that moment that you realize he was enjoying this. The chase, the tease, the dare, the push and pull between the two of you.

“If you don’t like it,” you continue, your voice taking on a sultry tone as you continue to meet his dark brown eyes, “then take it off.”

The quick sparkle that appears in his brown eyes makes you think that he has taken the bait, that you might have gained some control over the situation at hand – a situation that you were wholly unprepared for but welcomed none the less. And when Brady leans back in to lock you lips together once again, his hands wandering around your ribcage towards your back, the confidence grows.

However, it takes a sharp plummet when you feel his hands drop from your frame. If Brady had given you a split second longer, you would have broken the kiss to question or quip him again. But you have barely any time to miss the sensation of his hands on your skin before you feel them grip the back of your thighs as Brady uses his athletic strength to effortlessly lift you off the floor.

You gasp, a gasp that Brady gladly swallows before he spins, tearing his lips away from yours to look around your house. There is a part of you that wants to tell him nothing has changed from the last time he was there – the furniture is the same, your bedroom is still two doors down on the left – but your lips have already busied themselves marking the smooth skin on his neck.

There was also a power in your decisions; forcing him to find his way through your space all while doing your best to distract him. And it seems to be working as you feel Brady’s pulse shudder underneath your mouth.

You feel him take a lurching turn right and a slight flash of confusion runs through you until you feel his body lowering. The soft material of your couch hits your knees and the skirt you had on flows out around you as you now straddle Brady.

“Forgot where the bedroom was?” you chirp into his neck, feeling his desperate hands return to your torso as he removes the tattered remains of your blouse from your waistband.

It seems that it takes a minute for your words to register but when they do, Brady’s hand lifts to tangle in your hair. Another gasp escapes from your chest as his fingers tighten before pulling your head away from his neck. He quickly reverses the roles, his own lips moving to your newly exposed throat, your breath transforming from gasps to soft sighs as his mouth works against your skin.

“Who says I’m not going to take you there after I’m done here?”

“Who says I would let you back into my bed anyway?” you retort to keep some semblance of control.

Your pathetic attempt is clearly read by Brady, who makes you falter once again as the hand not tangled in your hair effortlessly unclasps your bra. His lips depart from your neck as he helps slide the material down your arms, throwing it carelessly somewhere in the room. You both hate and love the smirk that appears on his face as he takes in your heaving chest, your pebbled nipples. His dark eyes dart back up to you briefly before he is tugging you into him for another animalistic kiss.

“Seems that you like it so far,” he whispers into your open mouth before he pulls away again, lifting your body upright and pulling you closer. “I’ll take my chances.”

You wish that you could say something back, something to knock his arrogant confidence down a peg but your mind goes blank as his lips move to your collarbone, leaving faint hickeys against the taut skin before moving down to your chest. His lips close around one of your nipples, tongue moving to tease the sensitive peak as his hands rest on your ribcage, his thumbs running across the delicate skin on the underside of your breasts. Your hands fly to the back of his head, keeping him close and you can feel his lips curl against your skin. The action both turns you on and pisses you off, a combination that you weren’t sure could even work until now.

You fly into action, hands moving down to grip the fabric stretched across his broad shoulders, tugging at the material and pulling it upward before he finally breaks away to help you remove the shirt entirely, tossing it away to join your clothes on the living room floor.

His lips return to your chest, moving to leave no skin unmarred with his love bites as your hands drop to his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle in silent encouragement. Brady’s hands lower before coming to grip your ass and you gasp as he pulls you forward, the action causing your hips to roll. You both let out moans at the sensation of you grinding against him and it turns you on more to feel his erection against your core.

“And here I thought I was the masochist,” you joke, moving your hips of your own volition, pressing deeper into him. The grunt that your actions pull from his chest has you grinning. “Who’d know you get this hard from getting your ass kicked?”

You must’ve struck a nerve, prodded at the memory he came here to forget, because the only thing you hear in response is what could best be described as a growl before he lifts you off of his lap enough to slip out from underneath you. Your brain recognizes the weight of his body disappearing from the couch and you attempt to turn, just to keep your eyes locked on him but Brady doesn’t give you a chance.

His large hand finds the space between your shoulder blades and pushes you forward, your torso falling until your chest meets the back cushions. You can’t stop the gasp that falls, your arms lifting over the edge of the couch as your back arches, your hips pressing back towards Brady now looming behind you.

A dark chuckle echoes throughout the room in response to your actions as he pulls the material of your skirt over your hips, exposing more of your body to him. He doesn’t waste any time, doesn’t even bother removing your underwear, instead choosing to move it to the side before he slips two fingers into your already soaked core.

You let out a moan, your head falling forward as Brady’s hand moves, winding you up and my God, you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the feeling. His thumb quickly finds your clit, pressing against the bundle of nerves and you can’t stop the way your body responds to his movements.

“That’s what I thought,” he laughs. “You have no right to that attitude when you’re this fucking desperate for me.”

He emphasizes his words with a curl of his fingers, the tips grazing your g-spot and the combined sensation of his hands skillfully moving against you almost has you falling over the edge. Brady doesn’t give you your satisfaction that easily though as he removes his fingers from your core. You whimper at the loss, listening intently to Brady’s movements behind you, impatient to feel him once more.

Brady doesn’t leave you wanting for long as you hear the rustle of his pants hitting the floor and before you can blink, you feel his hands practically tear your panties down your legs before he enters you in one swift, harsh motion.

The moans that you both let out are delicious and desperate. You whine as you move your hips back, pushing him impossibly deeper. Brady groans, his hands quickly finding purchase on your hips, gripping you tight before he begins to move.

“Oh god,” you moan out as Brady fucks into you with quick hard thrusts, showing no mercy, your ass rippling every time it meets his hips. You are grateful for the couch cushions in front of you, helping to support your upper body as your fingers dig into the fabric so deeply that an irrational part of you worries you might tear it.

“Not God, sweetheart. Just me,” Brady replies, his movements barely faltering. “Come on, say my name.”

You wish you could tell him to fuck off, make a quip about his cocky attitude but your mouth doesn’t seem able to form the words or any words for that matter. The only thing you want is for him to continue. A sharp smack against your ass jolts your body forward and your head whips around in surprise, eyes connecting to Brady.

“Say. My. Name,” he repeats, now more command than anything else, every word punctuated by another spank and you are helpless to comply.

“Brady,” you whine, your desperation painted on every letter, your eyes staying locked on him, drinking in his reaction. He groans, his teeth coming to bite his lower lip, his gaze dropping from your face to connect to where his cock disappears into your pussy.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart.”

His quiet encouragement is all you need to continue moaning his name over and over. One of his hands falls from your hips to join yours in gripping the back of the couch, his body now completely covering yours, the new leverage only increasing the strength in which Brady thrusts into you. Your head falls to rest against the back cushion, the sounds of your staccato whimpers and breathy curses filling the living room along with the continuous depraved slapping of skin against skin.

You whine as you feel his hand disappear from your hip and slowly trace up your body, the softness of his touch a sharp contrast. The gentleness doesn’t last long and your whine turns into a gasp as Brady’s large hand wraps around your throat, pulling your head upwards.

“Keep saying my name,” he says, his hot breath fanning across the shell of your ear. “Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.”

“You are, Brady.”

“Yeah? Can anyone else fuck you like I can?”

“No. Only you.”

“That’s right. Only me,” he growls in satisfaction, emphasizing his words with his rhythm.

“Fuck, Brady, please,” you plead, your voice strained from how much focus it took to pry the words from your mouth. “I’m close.”

“Well then, come on sweetheart. Touch yourself. Remind me how good it feels when you cum on my cock.”

The speed in which your hand falls is reckless, frantic to get that additional pressure that you were craving. As soon as your fingers press against your clit, your head falls back against Brady’s shoulder in relief. His praise is muffled against your skin as he peppers your shoulder with kisses, only interrupted by quiet curses as he feels your core flutter.

It is hot, so unbelievably hot – how he’s fucking you, how he’s holding you – that it doesn’t take long for you to finally fall over the precipice, your own hand faltering against you as your orgasm rocks through your body. A groan falls from Brady as he feels you clench around him; a groan that he muffles by sinking his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder, the additional sensation causing you to moan louder, hips rocking back against him as his motions halt.

The haze that pricked at the corner of your eyes slowly dissipates and you can feel Brady’s hand fall from your neck. The cool air cascades over your back as Brady lifts himself away from you causing goosebumps to appear. A small whimper escapes when you feel him remove himself from your core and steps away. The submissive part of your mind, still in control, panics in fear that he might leave. But the concern is short lived as Brady sits down next to you, pulling you back into his lap.

He wastes no time capturing you in another kiss, stealing any remaining breath from your lungs. Brady attempts to break the kiss but you don’t let him, hands lifting to cup his jaw and pulling him deeper into the kiss. He doesn’t resist and allows you to continue to kiss him, his own arms wrapping around your body.

Eventually your hands move, trailing down his throat, dancing over his chest and you smile against his lips as you feel his abs tighten in response to your fingers sinking lower until they finally reach the desired destination.

You gently take his still hard length in your hand and stroke him a few times, which was easy to do with your prior release clinging to the silky-smooth skin. You grin as you feel the vibrations of Brady’s soft moan in response to your ministrations. The cloud of your orgasm had lifted and, in its absence, your own confidence returned.

“Want me to take care of that for you?” you question, only moving far enough away to ask, your lips brushing against his occasionally. Brady doesn’t respond; you knew he wouldn’t. He had worked too hard to give up the dominance he held over you so easily. But you weren’t deterred.

You kiss him deeply one more time before your lips follow the path your hands previously traced: down his throat, over his collarbones, across his chest. An occasional moan and curse fall from Brady as you continue your descent and you grin, knowing that his resolve was slowly cracking. Your body moves, shuffling from being perched on top of his lap to kneel on the plush carpet between his thighs. Brady’s eyes are needy when your own eyes dart up to meet his stare. Your hand strokes him again but you make no attempt to put your mouth on him, the dare hanging clearly in the air.

“Baby, please,” Brady finally speaks, his hips punching upwards.

“Who’s fucking desperate now?” you quip, unable to contain your excitement at regaining the upper hand. Your jaw drops open in surprise as Brady’s hand darts out, grabbing your neck once more, his eyes growing dark.

“You want to repeat that sweetheart?” he asks, that dominant energy rolling off him again. Except this time, it doesn’t make you back down. Instead, it just spurs you on, that heat and elation as it returns – the battle, the chase. Your dropped jaw just morphs into a wicked grin and you are ecstatic to see a similar smirk twist onto Brady’s lips; a quiet confirmation that he was still enjoying the newfound push and pull between you two.

“Come on Brady. Admit it. You are just as desperate for me as I am for you,” you explain, your voice dipping again into your lower sultry timbre. “Tell me, do any of those other girls have a mouth like mine?”

You flatten your tongue against his shaft and lick a bold stripe up his length before moving your lips to leave a lingering teasing kiss on the head. Brady groans, his head falling back as his hand moves from your neck to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer in an attempt for you to fully wrap your lips around him.

“No one can fuck me like you can?” you continue, hand wrapping around his cock. “Well, you’ll never find someone who can give better head than I can.”

You don’t give him any chance to respond as you surge forward, finally taking him into your wet mouth. Your tongue traces every vein that you could feel as your hand moves against the rest of him. Brady’s moans sounding from above fuel you and you continue to work your sinful magic against his skin.

It may have been months since you two were in this particular position but you feel like a part of you will remember everything about Brady, including all the spots that make him groan and twitch and throb. Your lips move to suck on the tip, teasing the area where the head meets the shaft with your tongue.

“Fuck,” Brady curses, his hips jumping causing his cock to thrust into your mouth. You gag a little before withdrawing – not completely but only enough to catch your breath. Your eyes dart to his and find that he is already staring at you, his salt-and-pepper hair falling over his forehead. The moan you release at the sight vibrates around Brady causing an identical moan to escape him. You inhale deeply before lowering your head, relaxing your throat until the entirety of his cock is nestled in your mouth.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking good at that,” he groans, his fingers twisting in your hair. You move, shallowly bobbing your head as you feel him pulse against your tongue, a tell-tale sign he was getting close. The assumption was only confirmed by the next word Brady spoke. “Fuck, baby, gonna cum.”

You pull your mouth from him, replacing it quickly with your hand and continuing the pace you had set.

“I won’t waste a drop,” you say, keeping your eyes locked to his as you wrap your lips around him once again, your hands moving to the side his thighs and pressing your fingertips up into them. Brady understands your silent request, hand once again tightening in your hair as he moves his hips upward, taking control.

“Yeah? You going to swallow it all like a good girl?”

You nod your head, keeping your mouth open and accepting everything he gives, moaning against his skin as he increases his pace. It’s only a few more moments before Brady throws his head back against the couch cushions, a long groan emulating from his chest as his own orgasm hits. You feel his cum hit the back of your throat and you greedily pull him deeper, determined to keep your word.

You let Brady collect himself and take a few deep breaths before you slowly raise your head, sliding off of his cock. You wait until his eyes connect to yours before you swallow, releasing a satisfied exhale afterwards. You can’t help but make a show of it, licking your lips before opening your mouth to show him that you indeed didn’t let anything go to waste.

Brady grins, a smile which you quickly mirror before his hands are on your body, hauling you off the floor and back into his lap. Your lips connect and you sigh, savoring the euphoric glow that surrounded the two of you. The two of you continue to make out for a few minutes, relaxing before you pull away, looking down at Brady.

“D’you feel better?” you joke, the remembrance of why he came to your house in the first place – and what it all meant now – nagging in the back of your mind. You aren’t sure if you can see sadness lingering on the corners of Brady’s smile as his hand runs soothing circles across your spine.

“A little.”

“Need anything else?”

“Maybe a shower,” he replies, looking up at you with those brown eyes that always made you weak. A sparkle that spells nothing but trouble for you flashes in his irises as his smile turns into a wicked smirk. “And perhaps a round two, starting with my head buried between your thighs.”

“Demanding, aren’t you?” you breathlessly chuckle, your head shaking in playful disbelief as your tear your gaze from his.

“I just know what I want.”

“Which is?”

“You.”

His quiet declaration has your head turning back to him, connecting your eyes once again. The emotions displayed in his own stare are unfathomable and you know that this isn’t the place to attempt to decipher them. You don’t have time to unwind and unravel the mess that defined you and Brady’s connection: your prior relationship, the subsequent break-up, and everything that happened today.

So, instead, you gently climb from Brady’s lap, standing upright before stretching out your hand towards him. He accepts your offer and you help lift him off the sofa before dragging him down the hallway to the second door on the left, back into your bed.

Like he always belonged there.

Like he never left.

tagging the skjei-sy sluts (affectionate) who asked for a continuation + a few others I think would appreciate this: @smileysvech @pyotrkochetkov @cellythefloshie @comphy-and-cozy @laurenairay

#nicole writes #brady skjei fic #brady skjei imagine #brady skjei smut #carolina hurricanes fic #carolina hurricanes imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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moonsvillain · 9 months ago

Text

hotwings au where hawks is a fallen angel who happens to crash-land in dabi's backyard on his way down.

hawks' wings are from his status as an angel rather than a separate quirk

i'd like to imagine that quirks aren't really a thing that they're up to date on, as well as being pretty behind in, like, everything else

imagine hawks going into this with an ariel-like disposition

anyway this kicks off with hawks crashing into dabi's backyard in the middle of the night

dabi, who's obviously awake, gets up to go investigate what the fuck that was (naturally assumes someone's here to kill him, as any normal, not-paranoid-at-all person would think)

hawks is very upset (landed on his wing wrong and maybe broke it, which, like, "OWWW...." this guy has never felt pain before and now he's human, which is cool conceptually but why do humans feel pain?? are they like this all the time?? who would do this to them??)

which leads to dabi finding hawk in a pile of limbs armed with a broken wing tangled in the clothes lines that he never bothered to take down after he finally saved up enough for a washer-dryer unit

at this point in time, dabi hasn't been scouted by the league yet, but he's not struggling to survive. he's found a small townhouse to reside in, one story, one bedroom, and a small backyard

(the backyard was an important detail to him—sometimes dabi needs to just. bask in the sun. feel warm when he can)

hawks sees dabi and assumes that he must be someone from hell, and it was some sort of cosmic fate that brought the two together

(hawks has always been the hero-type, even as an angel. he doesn't want to defeat people, rather, he wants to help them.

(hawks is just terribly naive, which impedes this goal of his by a lot)

dabi drags hawks inside once he's figured out that he isn't with the hero commission after threatening to burn the rest of his feathers off (which, the fire isn't helping hawks' case against him)

hawks can't really just say he's an angel, mostly because he gets the feeling that saying as much to someone like dabi would go very sideways

so he spins a story about being kicked out of his home and having nowhere to go and no family to take him in even if they wanted

which, it's not really stretching the truth at all. that is what happened. he just omitted a few details

dabi is stabbed by a violent wave of sympathy that he tries to suppress at first, until remembering that he'd have done anything to have support from someone like dabi is now back when he had been scared, alone, confused and hurt

and even though hawks is cheerful enough, dabi can see the mask he's wearing—he's hiding something. something that hurts

so dabi nods, accepts this answer, and offers hawks the couch for the night, which hawks gladly accepts (and ignores the way his eyes get wet)

the next day both wake up, remember the night before, realize it wasn't a dream and think, fuck

dabi's gotten himself saddled with a roommate—cuz even if he wanted to ignore him, it's too late now, he spent the whole night turning the situation over in his mind and kicking him out would make dabi's already fragile emotional stability skew out of control

and its finally settling into hawks' head that he's been kicked out and he doesn't know where he's going or if he'll ever get the chance to go back even if he wanted to and he's doomed to spend the rest of his life wandering the earth looking for acceptance that will never last

tldr both are having mild panic attacks

dabi finally tries to address the situation by like, asking what hawks plans on doing or if he knows anyone that could help him out

which gets dabi a look so pathetic he immediately regrets asking

("fuckkk he's so sad and lame. what am i supposed to do. it's like staring at a miserable puppy with a bag full of treats in your pocket and pretending you don't know they're there.")

dabi grits out an offer:

stay here and figure out a way to pay rent, and dabi will do his best to fix up hawks' wing so he can fly again but also so it doesn't cost a million dollars to pay for the treatment in the first place

(dabi's plans consist of roaming the underground to find a doctor that could help the both of them out and threatening them—dabi's been putting off finding one for himself after his skin grafts start looking nastier than they should and this is the push he needs to get to it)

hawks, oblivious to this, agrees pretty readily

dabi nods

a moment of silence. then:

"is your real name dabi, or—"

"i'm not hearing this from you, hawks."

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winged-self-indulgence · 8 months ago

Text

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3/??

The rough pad of his thumb against your hole made you jump, a little movement that was immediately shut down by the firm pressure of Z’s other hand resting on your lower back. It didn’t feel like the demon was exerting any pressure, and yet something told you that there would be no escaping until he said so.

“Stay still for me sweetheart,” Z murmured from behind you, voice as low and as smooth as you remembered but there was an undercurrent of a snarl beneath each syllable. You got the distinct feeling that he was speaking through more teeth than you knew. A part of you wanted to turn around and look at them properly, but a squeak escaped your lips at the press of rough calluses pulling your folds apart. “First I wanna get a nice long look at this pretty hole before I devour you.”

You squirmed in place, trapped between his teeth and your own mortifying reflection. Arousal pooled sticky between your thighs, sliding down your thighs, and you couldn’t fight back the whine when Z’s tongue followed right after.

Immediately, Z pulled away, the heat replaced by a mean swat to your core that had you shrieking, eyes flying open in shock. “I said don’t look away, Dove,” the demon scolded as he patted the sensitive flesh in a patronizing approximation of sympathy. It might have been more genuine if you couldn’t feel the tips of his fingers teasing you, sinking ever so slightly in and out, making the room echo with the vulgar squelch of slick. “You can be obedient for me, can’t you baby? I said keep your eyes on the mirror.”

You forced your eyes back to the flat pane of the glass, staring right at the debauched image you made. Z always ran hot, but when his tongue dragged over your sex it felt like hellfire. Once, twice, then little sucking kisses as if he was making out with your core. Your knees shook, body only propped up by the tail around your waist and the countertop. Your mouth fell open, heavy gasps escaping your bitten lips as you struggled to maintain eye contact with yourself when all you really wanted was to close your eyes and ride the stupidly long tongue treating you like you were a five-star luxury meal and he hadn’t eaten in a week.

“’m gonna–!” You barely had time to get the words out before your orgasm crashed over you, harsh and blinding, so good that it almost hurt. Z licked you through it, panting lips smacking loudly as he licked your juices from his lips. What he couldn’t quite reach, he scooped up with his fingers, savoring the taste of you anew.

“So fucking sweet,” Z groaned, yanking you upright and into his arms – your back pressed against his front while his hands groped your thighs and squeezed your sex with possessive hands. His tongue sank into your mouth, sliding over your teeth and down your throat, tasting of yourself and Z’s own uniquely smoke-and-whisky scent. By the time they released your mouth, you were lightheaded, and their eyes were burning. “Now do that on my cock this time, and we’ll call it even.”

#favor vn #my fic

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breathlesslink · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 1 - Freedom

[chapter warnings: abuse, fighting, sexual jokes]

t.o.c ; >>

"Hyah!"

"Good!"

Sweat dripped down your forehead, soaking your hairline and traveling down to your eyelashes. The water nearly blinded you, yet you knew you couldn't stop. You swung the Windcleaver in your hands with terrifying strength, slicing the arm off of the wooden dummy as if it was butter. Your muscles burned at the feeling and nearly gave out after you had cut, but you knew better.

Don't stop.

A loud thud resounded behind you, and yet you did not turn around. You held the blade over your shoulder to protect your spine, effectively blocking the soldier who had attempted to attack you from behind. At his surprise, you were able to turn and use two hands to push the blade towards him, pushing him back against the sand floor. The soldier regained his footing quickly and charged once more, making you continuously block and parry his shots, looking for an opening to go on the offensive.

Finding none with your sword, you sighed. You blocked his blade once more and threw both his and yours to the side, following the weapons with a blow to his face.

Hand-to-hand combat was never your favorite-- it hurt your knuckles and it was just too much trouble. Why use your fists when you had so many weapons at your disposal?

You ducked under a punch from the soldier, taking advantage of the low point to hit his ribs. The soldier coughed and kicked out while you were still low, hitting your shoulder and knocking you back a few steps. You squared your stance once more, ready to charge again--

"Y/N! Y/N!"

A high-pitched voice squealed from your left, where the entrance to the training arena was. You dropped your guard after seeing the soldier do the same and turned to see a little girl, height barely reaching your hips, barreling towards you. You grinned and wiped the sweat off of your forehead again, kneeling down with your arms open wide.

"Kimi!”

Your little sister giggled and crashed into your arms, wrapping her own around your neck as you picked her up and spun her around. She held a piece of paper in her hands and once you stopped spinning her, she unfolded it and held it up to the scorching sunlight to let you get a look. On the paper were scribbles of color and what seemed to be three stick figures, adequately drawn for a seven-year-old such as Kimi. You looked at her and smiled, "And what do we have here?"

"It's a--"

"Family portrait." A slightly lower voice comments from the same area Kimi came from. "She says it's us, but I don't see the resemblance."

You laughed. "Hiro, she's seven. You can't expect her to be the next great artist just yet."

Hiro shrugged, feigning distaste although you knew it was all for fun. "I dunno. I think I did better than that when I was four."

"Not sure about that one. Last week, Master got on you because he couldn't read the ambush plans you had drawn up. Four wasn't your magic number and thirteen might not be, either."

Hiro scoffed and opened his mouth to rebuttal, only to be interrupted by the soldier overseeing your training.

"You were distracted today. You could have done better if you focused, Y/N. Get ready for dinner." He waited until you saluted him before walking away. You and your siblings watched him walk off, the large door closing behind him.

"Fuckin' hate this--"

"Hiro, language."

"What?" He threw his hands up. Kimi buried her head into your shoulder-- she never liked it when people were upset. "Y/N, we've been here for five fucking years. These people have kept us kidnapped here, and for what? To become their super soldiers? 'Protect Ganon, protect Ganon'. From what? There's fucking nothing going to tame that dumb pig in the castle. That one dude is not coming back to life.”

You could only watch in sympathy as Hiro ranted. You felt the same, but you felt like you had to keep it together for him and Kimi. If they saw you crumble the same way your pubescent teenage brother was, then you'd be seen as weak. They wouldn't be able to rely on you for anything. That couldn't happen.

"It'll all work out, Hiro."

"Doubt it." He blew a strand of white hair out of his face, crossing his arms. "Let's just-- let's just go. Time for dinner, I bet it's just a bunch of fuckin' rocks."

The events after dinner were always the ones you dreaded, and yet also looked forward to the most. Nights in the desert were always cold, even from the comforts of your room in the hideout. They chilled you to the bone, and could lead to your demise should you travel unprepared. The sand seemed to turn to snow and the dry winds did little to help, as did the thin blankets that laid across your shivering body in the rock-hard bed that you shared with your younger siblings.

Yet, you were alone. Free from the prying eyes of your captors, and from the ever-present pressure to be the strong one for your siblings as they slept soundly beside you. Here, you could relax.

Kimi was curled up in the middle against your side, still sucking her thumb despite you telling her she was too old for it. Perhaps it was to cope. You stared at the ceiling, thinking back to the training earlier today.

You agreed with Hiro-- what were you doing here? Of every child in the world, why did the Yiga Clan decide to take you three? What good could you do for their cause? Surely there were people more willing and capable of doing what you were being trained to do.

You took a deep breath and steeled yourself. You had to be stronger than ever to utter your next words, much less carry them out.

"Hiro... Kimi... Wake up." You waited for the two of you to acknowledge your presence. "Do you want to leave tonight?"

"Leave? Tonight?" Hiro's voice echoed back.

"Yeah, from here. We need to."

"But won't they catch us?" Kimi whimpered.

"Not if we do it now. The guards are switching shifts. Let's put on our suits and get out of here. And stay quiet."

All you heard for confirmation was the ruffle of clothes as Hiro and Kimi slipped on their outfits and packed their few belongings. You looked around outside the curtain that separated your bedroom from the main room. You watched the open holes in the rock walls that pretended to be windows, making sure that guards didn't walk by to see you up past curfew. Quietly, you led the two younger kids around the rock pillars that turned the room into the hellish labyrinth that had been your home for the past five years-- nearly Kimi's entire life. Your heart lurched at every ruffle the red banners made along the corridors as the wind breezed through.

The place was peaceful tonight.

You held your breath around every twist and turn, the fear of getting caught nearly paralyzing you— urging you to turn back and crawl under the safety of the blankets— but you pushed on for your siblings. Finally, you saw stars.

The entrance of the Yiga Clan hideout was so close. You could reach out your hand and be free.

You could taste the fresh air and see the night sky, the stars getting even closer as you stepped carefully towards the entryway. They seemed to sparkle in morse code, praising you and encouraging you to continue forward.

The small streams of sand falling from the cliffs above near the entrance stung your eyes and the dust clouded around you, making you squint. Only a few more steps until you're free.

"ACHOO!"

A loud sneeze echoed through the canyon, nearly rumbling the rocks and causing an avalanche. You and Hiro turned and looked at Kimi in horror as she bashfully held her nose.

"Bless me."

"HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" A large Yiga member walked up from his position above the canyon. If Kimi wouldn't have sneezed, you would have passed him without being noticed.

"We were going to patrol the borders, sir." You answered quickly.

"There were already three chosen to go earlier." The member deadpanned.

"Yes sir, but it was deemed that they did an inadequate job. We were sent to resecure the borders."

The Yiga snarled. "Y/N. Hiro. Kimi. Where are you going? You can't lie to us."

"We're going to patrol the borders, as I said." You quickly picked up Kimi and grabbed Hiro's wrist, sprinting out of the entrance and across the soft sand.

Loud sirens wailed throughout the peaceful sky. The stars were blinking faster, as if saying, "Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!"

You didn't need to look back to know that Yiga members were hot on your trail. You'd teleport, but Hiro nor Kimi had mastered it yet, meaning you'd leave them behind. They couldn't fight, but you could.

Suddenly, your eyes lit up.

"Hiro! Take Kimi and keep running!" You called.

"What?" Hiro replies as you thrust her into his arms. "Y/N, no!"

"Run!" You screamed as you stopped.

You turned around to face the swarm of members chasing after you, pulling out your Demon Carver and preparing to fight.

------

You were sore.

Your bones, muscles, head, everything. They ached.

It was a struggle to open your eyes, but you did.

Sunlight flooded through the window beside you. The room smelled like expensive perfume and food. Your eyebrows furrowed- the Yiga hideout didn't have perfume. The food cooked there wasn't good, either. This food smelled good.

Where were you?

Sitting up, you blinked again and looked out the window, your eyes adjusting to the harsh light. Outside of the room was a town. Sand sat in piles around the edges of the walls and on the yellow cobblestone ground. A cat, donning an emerald-studded collar, stalked around the corner, looking up at you and purred before running after a mouse.

"Ah, you're awake." A voice came from the doorway behind you.

"Where am I?" You cautiously asked, not looking away from the window. Your hand stealthily crept to your pocket, which held a small knife. just in case.

"You're in Gerudo Town." You finally turned to see a tall lady walking towards you holding a food tray, "You collapsed next to our ice house last night. Our ice keeper, Anche, fought off some pretty bad guys to save you. She brought you to us. She said those guys were definitely trying to kill you, probably still are."

"Don't scare the poor girl, Romah!" Another feminine voice came from the doorway. A slightly taller lady stood there.

"Oh hush, she'll be fine. She needs to know." The shorter one, Romah, waved her off.

"In case you didn't hear, she's Romah," The other one said, "I'm Olu. We've given you potions and such to help you heal, but you've had some pretty nasty cuts. You'll have to stay here a while before you go back home, it's way too dangerous to leave in your condition."

You looked down in silence, "I don't have anywhere to go, so I guess I won't be in a rush to heal." You shrugged.

"What do you mean, darlin'?" Olu pressed.

"Don't really wanna go back."

"Were you the only one there?" Romah questioned.

"No, I had two others," You explained, "but we got separated. They're my younger siblings."

"Really? How old are they? They couldn't possibly have gotten far."

"Thirteen and seven. I think they will be okay, but I need to find them soon."

"Of course, darling, say no more. We'll have you healed up and out of here in no time. But while we wait, have some lunch. I'm sure you're starved." Olu pushed the tray of food towards you and ushered Romah out, leaving you alone once again.

Your injuries were much more detrimental than expected, especially since you refused to rest in bed to heal. You had to move around and train.

Days spent with Romah and Olu turned into weeks, which turned into months, which turned into a year until a letter appeared in the town.

Kimi. How did she find you?

She said that she was safe in Hateno Village, having heard that one of her friends saw a girl who looked like you on her trip to Gerudo Town. She sent a letter in blind hope. No word on Hiro.

You stayed in Gerudo for four years. Four years since you had seen either of your siblings. Three since you began writing letters to Kimi back and forth. She was eleven now. You hadn't seen her grow up.

In exactly 30 minutes, it would be your 20th birthday, and you were leaving. After working the nightly love classes with Ashai and running the inn with Romah and Olu for so long, you were leaving.

After finally finding a loving home and family, you were leaving.

Your first stop was Kakariko Village, then to Hateno to find your sister. Then to the rest of Hyrule to find your brother.

You sighed and closed the curtains on your window, laying down and getting what little bit of sleep you could while being excited and nervous about tomorrow. You tossed and turned all night, the plushness of your mattress doing nothing to soothe your nerves and make you rest. Soon enough, the sun peaked through your curtains and you couldn't help but groan.

"Good morning, old lady!”

The door to your room burst open, Olu rushing in like a bull. She held pancakes with a lit candle stuck in the middle, running to your bed as Romah tried to stop her recklessness around an open flame. To your surprise, Ashai came in behind them as well, the two of you having become close as well.

You laughed, taking the plate from Olu and blowing out the candle, making a wish.

Olu sat on the foot of your bed. "So what did you wish for?"

"I can't tell you, silly. Then it won't come true." You said.

"If I were you, I'd wish for love. A fine, muscular, tasty man who'd love me," Ashai sighed dreamily and fell back onto the bed, "A man who'd love me day and night. Especially night. Or a woman. That would be nice too..."

"Alright now, she's still a kid to us." Romah chuckled, "I'd rather her not be thinking about boys."

"Okay, okay, mom." Olu rolled her eyes playfully, "Now eat up and get packed, you have a long journey ahead of you!”

With that, they left again, giving you your precious privacy.

After eating, you got out of bed and dressed in your Gerudo outfit. You packed outfits for every weather possibility in your bag as well as weapons, food, and other supplies.

You stood at the entrance of Gerudo Town with the ladies of the town who had become your family over the last four years, saying your goodbyes. You hugged the last ones and turned to Romah and Olu.

Olu was bawling, her makeup smearing on her face and your shoulder as she squeezed you into a hug. Then you went to Romah, who wasn't openly crying. She had tears in her eyes and as you hugged her, you felt one slip out and land on the top of your head.

Taking one last look at your home, you boarded your sand seal and set off to Kakariko. The journey through the desert and Gerudo Canyon was a breeze-- you were accustomed to the sands and extreme weather, but you were completely lost as to what to do when you got out. Your sand seal was useless once you left Gerudo, being unable to maneuver on the grass. As you came to your first settlement outside of Gerudo, Outskirt Stable, a lightbulb went off. You knew what you had to do.

You had to get a horse.

The stable hand at Outskirt had warned you of the difficulty of taming a horse, but you were confident. You had fought numerous people and monsters, what was taming a horse compared to that?

You scanned the open area around the stable for a few moments before finally locking your eyes on the horse you wanted. A beautiful light brown stallion stood a few yards away from you. As he turned to graze on a different patch of grass, you noticed white patches of fur against his muzzle and around his feet. He was absolutely gorgeous, and you wanted him.

You crouched in the grass, stepping carefully towards him to not make any sound. Training with the Yiga paid off for this-- stealthily sneaking up on your target. Except this time you weren't going to take out a knife and kill it. The stallion had no clue you were near and when you got close enough, you lunged forward and placed your hands against its haunches to push yourself onto its back.

Immediately, the horse began to whinny and buck, trying its hardest to knock you off. You held on tightly to his chocolate-colored mane, patting his neck to soothe him as best as possible. It wasn't working. You were getting tired, struggling to continue holding onto his mane, so you leaned down and wrapped your arms around his neck entirely, shutting your eyes and hoping for the best. He continued to rear up and buck, and finally, your arms had enough. They loosened and you lost your grip, sliding off of the side of the horse and hitting the hard ground below.

The horse was still reared up, his front hooves raised over you. You covered your face with your arms, preparing for him to slam down and crush you underneath his strength, yet it never came.

Instead, you felt a nudge against your arm. Peeking open an eye, you saw the same stallion hovering over you, his hooves now planted on the ground on either side of you. He was looking down at you with big brown eyes, head cocked to the side as if you say, "You good?" Slowly, you stood up and the horse gave you space, putting his head down in front of you. You quirked an eyebrow, petting his muzzle and he swished his tail in happiness.

"If you like me, then why did you throw me off?"

He just snorted.

You rolled your eyes and walked around to his side, swinging one leg over. The horse-- Taz, as you decided to name him-- walked to the stable with you barely having to control him, swishing his tail the entire way like some kind of giant dog. You registered him and after putting on his saddle and bridle, you set off to Kakariko Village.

------

Kakariko Village was a sight to behold. The small town was embedded deep in a little dip of the mountains, the rocks themselves surrounding it on all sides. It reminded you of the entrance of the Yiga hideout, yet so much better. Less evil. You were glad that Taz stayed on the path well because you were having trouble keeping your eyes on the road. The area was just breathtaking.

Seeing the Sheikah symbols, you were taken far back. Further than your life with the Yiga, but to your life before everything went wrong. You got a glimpse of you before even Hiro was born, playing outside while your mother, a Sheikah woman herself, tended to the garden. Your father, a regular Hylain, chased you around as you laughed.

Suddenly, the village seemed more nostalgic to you. Kids ran around like you used to-- like Hiro and Kimi never got to. Hiro was the only one to get your mother's hair, and everyone around reminded you of him.

Shaking your head, you got off of Taz and led him around, searching for an inn to let you stay for a little while. Finding it on the other side of town, you didn't hesitate to ask for a room. The innkeeper was a nice man who kept yawning and hobbled around the front desk to show you to your quarters. It was just a bed and nightstand surrounded by privacy curtains, but it was enough. You didn't plan on spending all of your time there, anyways.

"We haven't had many visitors lately," The man, Ollie, yawned once more, trying to keep his eyes open and start a conversation. "Other than one dude that's been here for a few days."

"Really? Is he staying here as well?"

"Sometimes," Ollie responded, his speech slurred. Goddess, he was struggling to stay awake. Was he okay? "Sometimes he's here, sometimes he won't come back for the night. He's apparently a special traveler, according to Impa. We have to treat him real nice."

Special? And he'd be staying next to you? Wow.

"I hope he's nice," you mused to yourself, "Special people sometimes let it get to their heads."

"He hasn't talked to anyone, I don't think. Might be mute, might be a self-righteous asshole who thinks he's too good to talk to anyone. Dunno." Ollie sat back down at the desk and laid his head against his hand. In no time, he was back asleep. You sighed and left the snoring man to his nap, deciding to go to the stores.

High Spirits Produce was the shop that you decided to explore. You and Taz had eaten all of the snacks that Romah and Olu had packed, so you definitely needed more before traveling again.

You walked over to the swift carrots, wanting some for Taz, but they were swiped from your view as you went to grab them. Looking up in surprise, you came face to face with a pair of blue eyes that practically glowed in the soft light of the shop.

Those eyes seemed nervous, the person's eyebrows furrowing in some type of frantic anxiety.

"I'm sorry, could I have two of those? My horse is in the stable and he's hungry-"

The boy quickly slammed down a carrot and rushed to the counter, paying for the rest and practically running out of the shop.

Okay, weird. But he only left one...

You shrugged and paid for it along with the other items you had collected and left. Taz wouldn't be the happiest horse in the world- he always got two carrots. No more, no less- but you supposed that he would be subdued with an apple or two as a substitute.

Your mind went back to the boy that you saw. After many Gerudo classes on "men" with Ashai, you could tell that he was nervous and slightly uncomfortable. It was body language that the women were taught to recognize, lest they accidentally make the man uncomfortable. His shoulders were tense, the stress lines across his face were abundant and his lips were turned down into a deep frown. He didn't say anything to you, which led you to believe that he was just anxious. But about what? It didn't seem quite like normal social anxiety. It toed on the line of dread and pure panic- like the world could be ending soon and he was the only one who could stop it or something.

Shaking your head, you reached the small stable.

"Taz?" You called, "I've got snacks!"

Taz whinnied and you went to walk towards him, but stopped as you saw someone already in front of him.

It was the man from before. He had his head down, seemingly deliberately avoiding eye contact with you. In his hand was a swift carrot, a large bite in it that you assumed Taz had taken. He was feeding your horse.

"Um, hi. I don't think we've properly met." He jumped at the sound of your voice. Despite this, you still carefully walked toward the blond man. "I'm Y/N."

He hesitated for a moment. "...Link."

You paused, but only for a millisecond. That name was familiar, but from where?

"Link. I like it." You smiled. "But do tell me, I have a question."

Link turned to look at you, still on edge. "Yes?"

"Why are you running around here like a Cucco without its head? I've only seen you twice and you're acting like the world-"

"-Is ending. That's what Ollie said too..." Link sighed. It seemed as if he really didn't want to talk to a total stranger about his problems. You understood why, though. However, instead of saying anything, you remained silent, hoping that he would elaborate. After a few more moments, Link spoke up.

"Do-- do you know your way around Hyrule?"

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ryejifics · 1 year ago

Text

False hope

Type: very angsty read at your own risk

Yuna x reader

"God y/n, were friends, and that's all we ever will be. What made you believe otherwise? Pfft, as if I ever really liked you."

Those words played over and over again in your head. The voices were so loud. Yuna used you once again. She crushed your heart and threw away the pieces to it. She gave you hope one day just to take it away another. Just like dangling candy in front of a baby but never giving it to them. She gave you all the attention you could ever want. Texting you good morning and good night like you never had before. Asking if you ate. Saying how much she loved your eyes and how cute you were. You never really had love before. You would take the bare minimum as no one has ever shown interest in you. You dated maybe once, but that didn't go so well. Now that you had hope, you held onto it. Yet it all came crashing down when you got the text. She had you so confused. One day, she acted like she hated your guts, and the next, she was flirting. Could she make up her mind? You had enough and got the courage to ask. That's when you realized how stupid you were to believe she actually liked you. You cried that night. Curled up into a burrito and holding onto your favorite plush. Taking out everything that ever reminded you of her. The movie ticket? You burned it. The flowers? Thrown away. The nicknames she used to call you? You told people to stop calling you that. Yuna didn't even feel an ounce of sympathy for you. In fact, you found out she went to a party and hooked up with another that same night while you were at home crying. If she was so bad, why did the attention feel so good? You didn't know, you also didn't know why you ever had hope. You'd only ever be her friend to play with the feelings of. A player is all she will ever be. Love wasn't meant for you. All you were was a toy to people to play with. For a price of attention in exchange for heartbreak after. You always took the deal. In the end you'd never find love anyways. Yuna told you that often. She told you how she would be the only one to ever flirt with you. How you'd never find love. It was true, after Yuna there was no one. Maybe it was something wrong with you. Maybe something you're doing wrong. Or maybe it's just a cruel world. You questioned it all. In the end, it was only you, yourself, and your cruel mind telling you those words over and over again. Lesson learned. Don't fall in love. Because someone will always find a way to take that from you. Just like Yuna.

#itzy fic #itzy imagines #itzy #itzy x reader #itzy midzy #itzy angst #itzy scenarios #yuna imagines #yuna x reader #itzy yuna #shin yuna #yuna

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sochawrites · 1 year ago

Note

Can you please do an rimmer x fem reader fluff or the episode the gun men of the apocalypse where reader and rimmer are dating.

Sure I can! And why not kind of both?

I am so, so, so sorry it took me so long to write this, it has been a very weird year and I just could not manage to put aside some time to write. I can't promise 2024 will be better, but we all can hope, no?

I hope this is at least a bit satisfactory to you, dear anon, or any of you souls, still lurking around looking for some RD content.

What do you guys say on the news about Red Dwarf: Titan? I was there when they screened the teaser trailer, if one would call it that, and honestly? I'm pretty excited!

Also happy Holidays!

Adrenaline

Arnold Rimmer x Fem!reader

None of you could help but cheer as Starbug flew away from the burning moon, escaping certain doom once again. You were slowly getting used to these situations, but near-death experiences are still near-death experiences and while you tried to focus your mind on the fact that you were alive, your body and nerves were of a different idea.

You were shaking in your seat, gripping the handles and hardly holding back the maniacal laughter of survival. You had enough adrenaline for today, it would probably be better for you to go and calm down, maybe even lay down before you start to crash.

Pulling yourself up on your shaky knees, you excused yourself and stumbled to your room, almost falling on the way out of the control room. Fortunately out of the sight of others, or so you thought. You slowly made your way up the stairs to the sleeping quarters, painfully unaware of the pair of concerned eyes watching you.

Deciding the bed would be the best place to crash onto, you crashed into a much more closer chair, back turned to the door and closed your eyes shut. You were breathing heavily and the sound of the ship was being drowned out by the buzz and thuds in your ears.

A knock caught your attention, albeit barely. "Permission to enter?", you hummed in response, knowing fully well your hologram boyfriend would not take no for an answer and not having enough strength to speak. There was a pause before Rimmer went into the room, but as soon as he did, he cautiously made his way towards you. You could only imagine him looming over you as he tapped on your shoulder.

"I brought you some water," Rimmer announced to you nonchalantly, leaving the glass beside you. You thanked him as you reached for the liquid with both of your shaking hands, but you were positive he barely heard you.

"That was quite a ride, wasn't it? The adrenaline, the thrill!" Rimmer walked around as if giving you an inspirational speech, "Although I have a feeling that for some, it may have been a bit too much, wouldn't you say so, my dear Y/N?". He turned to you with the last sentence, a playful smirk on his lip, but sympathy in his eyes.

You just threw him a look, not amused by his remark, "Yeah, well, not everyone can be as brave as the great Dan McGrew, right, Arn?".

He pouted, "Auch", and knelt down in front of you, reaching his palm to your cheeks, gently caressing. It was always a weird sensation to touch light, soft or hard, not really cold, not really warm. Leaning into his touch, you planted a kiss on his hand, a small smile tugging at the lips of both of you. "You're going to get used to all of this, eventually." Rimmer tried to reassure you, but you just shook your head.

"'Eventualy' isn't soon enough, starlight." the hologram traped your hand in his, squeezing. "It never is, but you'll be fine, I know it.".

You reached your still trembling hand to the one cradling your face, feeling the threat of tears from the stress and weariness. "How?" you whispered, "How are you so sure about this?".

"Love, have you ever seen yourself when we face the unknown? You always keep such a stone-cold face, looking so brave, so fearless! Adrenaline is a powerful muse, the tremble and tears, it's not you, it's just your body, nothing more." Rimmer was now cradling your face in both of his hands, semi-standing, looking directly into your eyes.

"It's only a matter of time until you get used to the rush and once you do…" he paused, maybe because he was searching for words, or maybe just to make his encouragement more meaningful, "You'll be braver than anyone we know."

You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around the holographic body, "Even more than Ace?". You felt him hugging you tightly "Even more than him.".

#arnold rimmer #arnold rimmer x reader #arnold j rimmer #red dwarf #red dwarf x reader #reader insert #female reader #fem reader #request #anon request #really sorry for the almost a year long wait

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m-for-musings · 8 months ago

Text

Honey Webbing

Part II — Read on AO3

Minthara's eyes fluttered open, her surroundings blurry and unfamiliar. She tried to lift her head but a wave of dizziness sent it crashing back down against the hard surface beneath her. Where was she? What had happened?

Panic seized her as flashes of memory surfaced - icy water closing over her head, the desperate struggle to reach the surface, the crushing darkness as her lungs burned. She must have drowned. But how was she still alive?

Wheezing coughs wracked her body, each one sending a jolt of pain through her aching limbs. Her throat felt raw and her chest tight, as if her very insides had been scoured by the relentless water.

Minthara's gaze darted around the room, the blurred, dream-like vision taking in the shelves of bottles and jars, the worn wooden furniture. This was no place she recognized. Waves of fear and confusion washed over her as she realized she was at the mercy of whoever had found her.

"Where...where am I?" she rasped, her voice barely above a whisper. Every word felt like it was being ripped from her.

Halsin's face suddenly came into focus above her, his expression a curious mix of concern and wariness. "You're safe, Minthara," he said gently, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder as she tried to sit up again.

Safe? The word sounded foreign to her ears. After everything, how could she ever feel safe again? Minthara's eyes widened with a dawning realization: Halsin, the very man she had once sought to destroy, a reluctant ally that she could barely tolerate - and she was pretty much sure that he found her presence equally grating, was now the one keeping her alive. Confusion flooded her mind, flowing through her weakened body as she attempted to struggle against his hold, despite the futility of her efforts. "Let me go!" she rasped, her voice cracking with desperation.

Halsin's brow furrows with something between sympathy and pity. "You're still recovering, you need to rest. You're safe here, I promise."

But Minthara could not be reassured. As consciousness struggles to fully return, she was overwhelmed by a crushing sense of vulnerability and fear. She was at the mercy of her former foe, her life hanging by a thread. And the thought of it filled her with dread. Minthara's desperation lent her a burst of strength, and she tried to push herself upright on trembling arms once more. But the moment she put weight on her legs, they buckled beneath her like a newborn colt's. Her vision swam, dots of light dancing across her field of view as vertigo crashed over her. Halsin moved swiftly to catch her, easing her back down onto the firm surface of the exam table. "Easy now, don't push yourself," he murmured, the concern etched into his weathered features.

Minthara's heart raced, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she struggled against the hands that held her in place. Every fiber of her being screamed to flee, to escape this unfamiliar place and the man who she could not trust. But her body betrayed her, lacking the strength to heed her frantic mind. Exhaustion swept over in a suffocating tide, dragging her down into darkness. Her eyelids fluttered, the world blurring and distorting until it faded away entirely. With a soft, defeated whimper, Minthara succumbed to the merciful oblivion of unconsciousness once more.

< Part I || Part III >

#baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 minthara x halsin #emeraldweb #minthara x halsin #bg3 #fanfic writing #fanfiction #current wip #honey webbing

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wireheadbird · 10 months ago

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Missing You [1]

(Al-Rawabi) female reader

Note: This fanfic isn't for any specific character so far, I'm thinking of making it into an ongoing series and see how it goes, just go with the flow and see where it takes us. Maybe I'll make it into s Hiba fanfic Warnings: Mentions of death, medication, suicidal tendencies(?), angst, smoking, self blame, brief mentions of self harm Summary: Y/n is the younger sister of Layan, this is the story of her grief basically. Not much action in this one, just a build up if you would. 962 words ____________________________________________________

After my sister…Layan’s incident, people at school no longer spoke about her. Completely ignored her existence and mine as well which at first broke my heart but I strangely found solace in my time alone.

Once the new school year started I had trouble looking at the halls, the classrooms, the field without recalling the memories we had together with our friends. Of course it was the same at home but it was easier to avoid since I either stayed on the rooftop or trapped myself in my room the entire summer. Now, I had to deal with all the flashbacks crashing down on me at the same time. I no longer sat in my usual spot next to my sister’s desk trying as much as possible not to provoke any memories I shoved far away. So instead I took a random seat on the complete opposite side we sat in last year, which happened to be at the back of the class in a corner.

Miss Abeer, our homeroom teacher, made her way inside the class making everyone scatter to their seats. The lesson went on and I could practically feel Miss Abeer’s sympathetic looks digging into my skin, the students started realizing it too as they started looking towards me every once in a while in confusion. “Miss.” my voice rang out in the room, she looked at me with such sympathy. I’ve had enough. “Yes y/n?” she sighed “May I use the restroom, please?” I had already clutched onto my bag and made my way to the door not awaiting a response. I know she wouldn’t dare report it, afraid the previous year’s events will happen once again.

I’ve been out of the spotlight for so long that I get nervous if too many people are watching me, watching every breath I take, every move I make. I never could handle pressure...and Layan knows– knew that. She always helped me, distracted me, but now she’s not here anymore. Left me to fend for myself.

Before I knew it I was inside a bathroom stall reaching into my bag for a pack of cigarettes I stole from Hazem. Breathing in the smoke, I hold it in for a bit feeling it burn and pollute my lungs, I close my eyes and breathe out. Allowing my memory to drift back to the last time I saw her. Full of life, smiling so wide…she was always happier when she went out with Laith, anything to get away from home.

“We’re going to have SOOO much fun! And then when I’m back I’ll make it up to you I promise. We’ll play ludo and watch your favorite show, okay?” she grinned so wide I couldn’t say no to her “Alright alright fine. BUT, you need to promise to bring me my favorite candy on your way back” I folded my arms pretending to be serious. “Deal!” We giggled together at the back of the bus till it came to a stop. “ok , our time to shine~” she did a little dance in her seat and looked at Rania nodding her head as a signal. Rania nodded back to say she understood, she began the process of creating a distraction as Layan slipped out of the bus. She gave me one last look over her shoulder smiling, I waved to her and she waved back then the bus moved forward as she sped off.

BAAM

My eyes shoot open and I jolt off of the floor where I was sitting, accidentally grazing the cigarette-butt on my neck making me hiss in pain. I throw the cigarette in the toilet and flush it quickly, spraying perfume on myself and shoving everything to a hidden compartment I had made in my bag. When I open the door I see one of the girls from my class standing there, the one who slammed her fist on the door so hard I could’ve sworn it was a gunshot. She was really tall and had soft curls resting on her head. She snickers tauntingly at me then leaves out the door.

When I made my way out the bathroom it was the end of the day, so I had gone off to find the bus that I’ve been coming to school with the past few days, or weeks, I couldn’t tell.

______________________________________________________________

In my room, it was quiet. I’ve been lying awake for hours in the dark. Sleep has always been my enemy. Layan had to tire me out completely just so I could get a few hours in. And even then it didn’t always work so I had to take pills for it and she’d always stay by my side till I slept and just talk about anything and everything. What an amazing older sister she was. I haven’t touched them since. Feeling as though I needed to be punished in any way possible, not allowing myself to sleep being one of the few ways. And the easiest, because others got pretty…messy and difficult to clean sometimes.

I hadn’t felt like eating dinner once again either. Feeling as though I didn’t deserve to eat.

Not when Layan can’t eat.

Not when Layan can’t sleep.

Not when Layan can’t be happy.

Not when it was all because of me.

Not when I didn’t stop her from walking right into her death.

Not when I was the one who convinced her to get with Laith.

Layan deserved to be happy, she deserved the world. And yet…I couldn’t give her anything but misery and pain.

“I miss you so much Layan…so much” a sob broke out of me, for the whole night. That's how I spent most of my nights.

Wishing for my older sister to return

next chapter

______________________________________________________________

Starting out this account with a smack to the face :)

#fanfic #al rawabi school for girls #angst #tw death #another world #wireheadbird #i hope you enjoy

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slayonehundredninetytwo · 1 year ago

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In the Name

request: I'm the one who asked for the hueningkai fic, the idea i have is that maybe he is feeling okay and then it all hits him at once (at midnight ) and everyone is surprised and mistake his bug for food poisoning and then they see it's not it (sorry if it's hard to understand but that's the idea, write it as you want, I'm sure it'll be amazing)

While on tour, the group decided to visit a token American “restaurant”, although it’s not much of a restaurant and more of a diner, they walked into the Waffle House excited for some sweet syrupy waffles after a show. They didn’t expect to see MOAs at some Waffle House decently far from their venues, so they relaxed into the booths and ordered their food. All the members went for waffles, except for Huening Kai, who opted for an egg and cheese omelette. The group teased him for not ordering waffles at a waffle house, but hey, it was a pretty good omelette, and it was decently cheap too.

By the time they got home, it was pretty late and they were ready to crash. Kai and Taehyun practically jumped into their beds inside the shared room. They didn’t even brush their teeth before passing out in bed.

Which is why Huening Kai was so confused to be woken up in the middle of the night. He had no idea what woke him, until he felt his stomach churn, and understood what was happening. He was overwhelmed with nausea maybe suddenly, or maybe he hadn’t quite noticed it at first. Either way he sprang out of bed determined to make it to the toilet in time. He almost made it, but his stomach couldn’t take it anymore and decided to eject its contents into the bathtub instead.

When Taehyun was awoken in the night as well, he was equally confused, however, he’s confusions were cleared up when he heard the sound of a huge amount of liquid splashing, accompanied by whimpers and cries, coming from the bathroom. He glanced at Kai’s bed only to find it empty as he expected. He jumped into action to help his friend.

“Hey bud.”

He said as he placed his hand on Hyuka’s shoulder, guiding him to sit, still in a position where his vomit would hit the tub instead of the floor. He sat beside his friend for another 10 minutes before Kai’s stomach had settled.

��If something serves a food that’s in the title, that’s what you should order.”

“What?” Kai exasperatedly muttered out, too sick and exhausted for more teasing.

“You clearly have food poisoning from that omelette. All the rest of us had waffles. That place looked sus too, like they would serve undercooked food and stuff, stuff that would give you food poisoning.”

Hmm. He guessed that sounded right, he must have food poisoning. Nonetheless, he felt like crap.

“Can I take your temperature?” Kai nodded, not having noticed that his friend had gone out and retrieved a thermometer before he came back.

“100.04 degrees fahrenheit?” Taehyun said, pulling out his phone to convert it to celsius so he could understand how high that was.

“37.8. Not too bad. Probably just your body trying to burn whatever was wrong with that omelette. Now cmon, let’s get you back into bed. You’ll feel better soon, don’t worry.”

He brought him back to bed and let him not there was a wash in and where it was located relative the his own position.

Taehyun called Soobin who zoomed over to their room immediately. He got there, seeing that the boy had already fallen to sleep.

“Poor guy.” Taehyun said, his voice filled with sympathy. “The food wasn’t good, he’s got a bad case of food poisoning, he’s miserable.”

“Doesn’t he know that when a restaurant has a food in the name that’s what you should order!” Soobin said with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. “I brought some medicine for when he wakes up.” He continued, shaking the bottle of pepto bismol in his hand.

“I hope it helps, with food poisoning, you just have to wait for it to pass. Not much we can do to help. It shouldn’t last too long at least.” He added.

“Can you call the manager? I don’t think he’ll be fully recovered to perform tomorrow. Since it’s most likely just food poisoning, he should be able to just sit during the performance, but I doubt he can dance.”

“On it.”

Just then, the bin beside Kai’s bed was put to use as his body tried to bring up what was left in him.

The next day was spent pretty much like that, Heuning Kai mostly sleeping, only to wake up every once in a while to throw up pink vomit or dry heave over the trash can.

When it came time for the concert, Kai hadn’t actually thrown up since 3pm, and it was assumed that whatever was bothering him had passed. So they made him drink at least a bottle of water to insure he was hydrated before the show, smothered makeup on his face to cover his sickly complexion, and threw him onstage, with a stool to sit on. Even as his stomach churned, he kept up his presence on stage. He was fine. He had to be, for MOA. So even through the growing nausea, he sung his lines and greeted the crowd, a smile plastered on his face.

The moment they got off stage, he bent over and threw up onto the backstage floor. The staff rushed over with a trash bin as Yeonjun rubbed his back. There wasn’t much of a mess, seeing as it was mostly water, which was easily cleaned up by the staff. Yeonjun led him to the couch and began to wipe off the boys makeup. The moment he felt Kai’s face, he realized it had to be more than food poisoning.

“Oh my god Kai. You’re on fire! I had no idea you were this sick.”

“I’m sorry.” he whispered out.

“NO” Soobin jumped in.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. If I had realized it was so bad we wouldn’t have let you perform. I wish you didn’t have to. You should be home in bed.”

Kai gave a nod, too exhausted to give a proper response.

“C’mon, let’s get you back to the hotel.” Taehyun said, lifting the sick boy up in his arms.

#kpop sickfic #txt sickfic #tomorrow x together sickfic

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hinatastinygiant · 1 year ago

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7 | UNVEILING SECRETS

Pairing: Giyu Tomioka x Fem!Reader

Sympathy for a Demon Masterlist

One week later, you find yourself once again pressed between the wisteria trees, accompanied by three other humans who survived the tortuous week alongside you. Your heart quickens as you spot Giyu in the distance, a wave of emotions crashing over you. Uncertainty clouds your thoughts. Do you run to him? Do you let your guard down and show your true feelings? No, you remind yourself, maintaining your facade is crucial.

You turn your attention to the two girls in front of you, Kiriya and Kanata Ubuyashiki. Their congratulations ring in your ears, and you force a smile in response. It is honestly relieving that you've finally finished that week that lasted longer than the entire hundred-year Muromachi period.

However, the weight of the situation is suffocating, especially when the two of them mention that a demon has somehow escaped. Dread knots in your stomach. Suspicion hangs heavy in the air, and it feels like every pair of eyes is fixed on you. Panic surges within you, spiraling into a full-blown attack that leaves you trembling and gasping for breath.

Amid the chaos, Giyu's firm grip on your arm startles you. He pulls you aside, his voice a reassuring anchor despite the chaos. "Y/n," he begins in a hushed tone, "there's something strange happening here. There's a demon that's somehow hiding its presence. And it's most likely a high-level demon, because it's beyond my detection."

You try to ease the tension with a nervous chuckle. "Is that really the first thing you're going to say to me after a week of thinking I was dead?" you say, attempting to shift the conversation away from the unsettling topic. Giyu's response takes you by surprise.

"Oh, that reminds me," he says, his voice slightly embarrassed. "What did you say your family name is? I was trying to fill out a few forms for you, but I didn't have the answers to some of the questions." You then quickly make up a random family name.

Giyu raises an eyebrow. "I've never heard of that last name before, especially not for any ancient demon slayer family."

You offer a nonchalant smile. "Well, you know how secretive my family is."

Giyu nods in understanding. "That's true, you did mention that before."

Just then, a demon slayer speaks up with an idea. "Hey, why don't we all pluck a wisteria petal off a tree?" they suggest. "Whoever doesn't do it must be the demon."

You can feel your heart racing at a million miles per hour, your ears burning with the weight of what you've just heard. You desperately hope you heard them wrong, however, in a moment of panic, you glance back at Giyu and grab him by the arm.

"I need to talk to you about something right now," you say quietly. "Privately."

You then lead him away from the group, creating enough distance to ensure your conversation doesn't get overheard. Then, taking a deep breath, you meet Giyu's eyes. You're about to admit something that might change everything between you two.

A heavy feeling settles in your chest as you realize that the time you've spent together might be coming to an end. Despite the circumstances, you've enjoyed his company, and you're going to miss it more than you ever thought.

Giyu looks at you with concern on his face. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice soft with worry.

You let out a heavy sigh, trying to find the right words. "Giyu," you begin, your voice wavering slightly, "the demon they're talking about... it's me."

His eyes widen, realization dawning on him as if a puzzle piece finally fell into place. "So that's why I could never find the demon I was looking for," he mutters to himself, his tone a mix of surprise and understanding. He then draws his sword and points it at you, a mixture of caution and disbelief in his eyes. "How have you been able to disguise yourself this whole time?"

"It's my demon art," you explain calmly. "For a long time, I didn't use it 'cause what's the point in hiding from humans? But the ability to mask my presence is something I've had for centuries..."

He seems taken aback. "Centuries?" he exclaims. "What the hell?"

Raising your hand, you implore him, "Giyu, please, I'm not going to hurt you. I never planned to. I've enjoyed spending time with you, really."

His eyes search yours, a mix of emotions playing across his face. He asks about your family, and you admit, "Well, it's half true. I do have an ancient demon family... Muzan Kibutsuji is my older cousin."

The revelation hits him like a tidal wave, and for a moment, you think he might faint from shock. The truth is finally out, and the weight of it hangs heavily in the air, like a bridge connecting two worlds that should never have intertwined.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

GIYU'S P.O.V.

"Why were you out in the forest alone?" I manage to ask her, my heart racing as I try to comprehend the reality before me. I try to strike at her, but she evades.

"Giyu, please don't do this!" She tries not to scream, tries not to draw any attention.

I make another attempt to strike her, this time severing her arm only to watch it regrow before my eyes. There's no doubt about it now and my mind is a whirlwind of confusion and betrayal.

"Why did you agree to become a demon slayer?" I demand, my frustration evident in every swing of my sword. She then explains that she left her home, living with Muzan Kibutsuji until he drove her to the brink of insanity which, honestly, she deserves props for dealing with him for such a long period of time.

She falls to the ground as I swipe both of her legs off. I stand over her, the tip of my sword beneath her chin, forcing her gaze up. Tears glisten in her eyes, a sight I've never associated with a demon before. Betrayal and disbelief war within me, but I can't ignore the honesty of her emotions. Sighing, I say, "You have the same goal as the demon slayers do, and I bet you didn't even fucking know that."

Her eyes widen in realization, and she stammers desperately, "I... I could work with the demon slayers."

Shaking my head, I reply, "They'll never accept you." And before she can say what I know she's about to, I add, "They'll find out eventually."

Y/n groans in frustration, but I instruct her to get to her feet. Slowly, she complies. "You know, I've never seen a demon with a will of their own before," I admit softly. "Someone who could choose to go against Muzan. But, as crazy as it all sounds, I believe you."

Before she can say anything back, a chorus of calls from the other new demon slayers reaches us. "We need to get out of here," I tell her, my voice firm. I grab onto her arm, knowing she won't be able to make it through the wisteria without a bit of help. And together, we run, leaving behind the place that has forever changed my opinion of the world.

Sympathy for a Demon Masterlist

Taglist: woodworthti666

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sekhisadventures · 5 months ago

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Sweet Dreams, Darkest Nightmares

The Isle of Dorn, two weeks before Dalaran arrived

The ship had sailed here from the southern coast of Pandaria, but some of the crew hadn’t made it that far. Once they were out of sight of the land, the passengers struck as one. The guards were overwhelmed at once and slain to a man, the crew told in no uncertain terms that they would not deviate from their course under any circumstances.

A few of them tried to protest, and one of the passengers calling himself Garnal drew his swords in response. After what he’d done to them nobody else was protesting anymore.

After several days of travel the ship arrived off the coast of the island, and the lifeboats were lowered as the passengers sailed inland, landing on the beach under cover of night.

Waiting for them were several nerubians. The leader of the spider-folk scuttled forwards across the sands, “Kkkkhhh… you are the ones that the Harbinger spoke of?” it asked.

Garnal stepped forward and nodded, “We are.” he replied, “We have traveled from the east to carry out the Mistress’s will.”

The nerubian looked to the ship anchored in the deeper waters out from the beach. “That must be removed, there can be no witnesses to your arrival.” it said, pointing a finger.

“Do not worry. Before I took up my… current profession, I was a cannoneer and soldier in service to the royal line of Menethil.” replied Garnal.

The nerubian cocked his head, “… meaning?” he asked.

Behind them, in the hold of the ship, the crew sat bound together, staring in terror at a fuse that ran along the floor towards a set of barrels. The large wooden containers were filled with gunpowder meant for the ship’s cannons.

Garnal had very carefully ensured that there would be enough time to let them get safely to shore, give or take a few minutes.

“Meaning this.” smirked the man as he gestured to the sea behind him. A second later the fuse burned down and there was a tremendous explosion, tearing the ship in half as both sides of the vessel burst into flames! The fragments splashed down into the ocean as the ship tipped, then capsized and sank below the waves along with what remained of the crew members.

The nerubian nodded slowly, “I see why the Harbinger chose you overcrawler…” it chittered, “This way. We have a tunnel nearby that we will collapse behind us.”

Nearby, the pandaren woman Xiaren used the vision granted to her by her bond with the shadow to watch the remains of the boat vanish into the sea, realizing she felt nothing at all for the crew. Innocent pandaren sailors, none of whom took up the profession for anything more than a desire to feed their families. Those families would likely never know their fate.

“Impressive…” she murmured. Tormented as she was by her own darkness for so long, it was hard to feel sympathy towards anyone anymore.

Garnal shrugged, “It was a job. I used to feel it was my duty as well, but that was a long time ago. Let’s be off Xiaren.”

The group shoved the boats out into the waters and tossed a torch into each, then trudged off behind the nerubians. Garnal and Xiaren walked together towards the cave that would lead them below to their task… and soon all that was left were footprints on the beach. By morning those footprints would be gone as well, washed away by the wind and tide.

The Isle of Dorn, two days after Dalaran’s destruction

Dornogal, that’s what the city was known as. While the earthen were suspicious of these people who had crashed a city into their homeland, they also recognized the handiwork of the nerubians and knew that whatever the motives of these outsiders were, they were victims of the spider-creatures machinations.

A darkness was brewing under the island, and the earthen needed all the help they could get. When Dalaran fell another swarm of nerubians attacked Dornogal, destroying the Coreway, their only pathway down into the land beneath. Thus, an alliance of convenience was established between the earthen and the survivors.

Dornogal was a proud city, standing as solid as stone since the days predating the War of the Ancients, a haven for the earthen. Its buildings were carved from the mountain itself, built and crafted to last through the eons along with their builders. For earthen, you see, are not born but made. They were created by the Titan Keepers to serve their master’s designs in the ordering of Azeroth, and they do not age as we do. They can endure virtually forever.

The dwarves as we know them are the result of those earthen who fell prey to the touch of one of the old gods, Yogg-Sauron. By his hand they were afflicted with the curse of flesh, transforming them from stone and rock to flesh and blood, and in doing so their lifespans became limited. Rather than living forever and needing only maintenance to continue doing so, a dwarf will grow old and pass away after two centuries on average. A long life by human standards, but the merest eyeblink to the earthen.

Inside the city, there was a modest inn. The earthen didn’t need to travel often, so it never saw much use, but now all the rooms had been thrown open for the city’s guests and within one of them lay a small body on a firm stone-carved mattress. Laying on a colorful bedroll of red and gold was Sekhi, the vulpera still asleep even after two days.

The bedroll had a woven image of a stylized skull with two huge tusks and belonged to their new acquaintance, the zandalari woman Uh’kue. She had offered to let Sekhi use it as ‘de little furry mon need it more den I do, ya?’

As she lay there, snoring softly, a head peeked into the room. A pair of shockingly bright pink eyes glittered in the shadows, and then Laura Brightflame turned and walked back to the common area where the others were.

Seated there were Nelen, Samantha, and Uh’kue, the group eating what they could manage to find in the wilderness outside the city, along with some of Nelen’s conjured mana buns. Upon arriving in Dornogal they discovered a certain problem… That was to say, incompatible diets.

The earthen were beings of rock and stone, and they ate just that. Rocks and stones. Their normal meals involved a good bit of shale, some hearty chunks of limestone, flint for spices, and gemstones which were considered a delicacy depending on the cut… and thus the sort of fare favored by, well, anyone not an earthen was hard to come by.

“Guys…” sighed Samantha as she chewed on a bit of roast wolf haunch. “I really really miss Jaie right now…”

Nelen nodded glumly, sticking to the root vegetables and berries they’d managed to forage. “Likewise Samantha…” he replied. True worgen tended to be more carnivorous, but… wolf meat was a problem for him. It cleaved to close to, well, you know.

Uh’kue smirked around a mouthful of berries. “Heh, bestial cunnin’ don’t mean much fer huntin’ eh wolfmon?” she teased.

Nelen coughed and adjusted his glasses, “Not when there’s not much to hunt. The only prey animals on the island seem to be just as rock-like as their herders.” he sighed, “… and when it comes to fishing, I’m totally lost I’m afraid.”

The other survivors of Dalaran’s destruction were doing the best they could to build up supplies, but after only two days those supplies had to be carefully rationed still and it usually came down to first come, first grab.

“Well, once Sekhi finally wakes up she can probably track down something. She grew up in Vol’dun so I know she has to be good at foraging.” Sam pointed out as she glanced up at Laura, “How’s she doing?” she asked.

Laurelgosa sat down and pulled the bowl of fruits and roots over to herself, pulling out one of the large carrot-like tubers they’d found. “Better. She looks far less exhausted, but I confess I do not know how long she will sleep.” she replied, glancing back towards their room. “She had been so tired for so long because of the Radiant Song’s cry for help…”

Nelen nodded, “Speaking of, Uh’kue… if you don’t mind me asking, how in the world did you do that? Nothing any of us found could dampen Azeroth’s voice enough to do this before. Truth be told, it would help us a lot to know how. This isn’t the first time Sekhi’s sensitivity has caused problems.” he pointed out.

Sekhi was a shamaness who heard the voice of the elements as a constant music. Even before the term ‘Radiant Song’ became common parlance she would refer to their voice as ‘The Song of the World.’ Each element sounded like different musical instruments to her, save for Spirit and Decay which sounded like voices raised in song (though with Decay those voices sounded very tired, weary, or even sick.)

The catch with her power was that while it offered a mighty connection to the elements, she couldn’t turn it off. The song was a constant in her life, an ever-present background music that only she could hear… but in places where the land was corrupted like Felwood and the Blasted Lands the song would disturb or even physically harm her.

Two instances had been life threatening to the shamaness. Her one and only venture into the Maw during their time in the Shadowlands and a close encounter with Fyrakk after he’d first embraced the power of shadowflame. Both events had sent the diminutive shamaness into a seizure-like fit that only Nitika’s intervention had saved her from. Without the tauren’s aid, it was quite likely those incidents would have resulted in Sekhi’s death.

Sekhi’s Song of the World. A double-edged sword indeed. A powerful spiritual connection to the world of Azeroth and the Elements, but one that could overwhelm and even hurt her if she was not careful. This was what life was like for her before Azeroth had begun sending visions to as many of her people as she could. Now, with the Radiant Song echoing across the globe, for the vulpera shamaness it was like living next door to a never-ending concert. Sleep? She’d all but forgotten what the word meant.

Uh’kue shrugged, “Me loa be Hireek o’ de Midnight Skies, ‘n nighttime be when little vulpera should be nappin.” she smirked, “So I just be usin’ one o’ me Loa’s lesser-known tricks ta give Sekhi a lil’ push in de right direction. Wrappin’ her up in a blanket o’ starlight ta keep Azeroth’s song quiet. Azeroth got all dese odder adventurers, she can make do without one lil’ fox fer a few days.” chuckled the troll with a wave of her hand.

Nelen nodded, “Hm… one of my other friends is a druid, I’ll have to ask her if she might not be able to do something similar.” he replied, “Speaking of… lemme give it another try.” he said, then reached into his pouch and took out a large gemstone. It was flat and round, like a small hand mirror, with a polished surface. He drew his finger across the gem, making out the shape of the rune for ‘great oak tree’ upon its surface, and the stone glowed in a rainbow of colors… and then suddenly the spell fizzled out with a flash of light akin to sparking electronics.

Nelen swore and put it away, “Still nothing… Whatever Xal’atath is doing to isolate the Island, its interfering with the enchantment we put on the gemstones.” he nodded.

Every member of Avalon and Savage United had one and each one of them had their own personal rune. The runic alphabet was ancient, predating modern forms of the written word, but it was tied to the arcane powers of Azeroth and made for a convenient way to contact each other as long as they could remember the runes. ‘Great Oak Tree’ was the rune for Shalandrae, given her ties to nature as a druid it only felt appropriate.

“Well, I suppose for now we’ll just have to see what we can do. Hopefully Leza was able to tell the others what happened, and they’ve got something planned… but I’d feel a lot bloody better knowing what.” frowned the magus.

Laura shook her head, “Compose yourself Nelen. Frustration will do no good now. Whatever comes of this, we are trapped on the Isle of Dorn for the foreseeable future.” she pointed out, raising a finger, “I propose we begin a survey of the island’s surface. The nerubians are below us in their caves, but we can at least try to identify where a possible breach may occur in the meantime.” she nodded.

Samantha smirked a bit, raising an eyebrow at her, “Well listen to you… eager little drake, aren’t you?” she chuckled.

Laura stood up and folded her arms behind her back, “I am dracthyr Samantha. First and foremost, I am a soldier.” she nodded firmly, “When there is no chance of leaving an area, learn how to turn it to one’s advantage. Identifying resources, threats, and the like is top priority.” she replied, “I propose two of us go out on a patrol of the nearby environs, the other two will remain behind to monitor Sekhi’s condition. It would not do to have her awaken alone in a strange place after all she has endured lately.”

Sam glanced at Nelen and shrugged, “Eh, I could use a walk.” she nodded, getting up herself as one of her hair-tendrils twitched. “… and Annulus says she should be able to recognize areas where people have been using voidcraft, so she’ll be able to spot where the nerubians might come from.”

Laura smiled, “Excellent Samantha. That sounds most useful. Let us be off then, a quick exploratory trip of approximately two miles out from the city in a wide arc should suffice.”

Samantha and Laura walked out into the sunlight, looking around at the city, then the void elf held up a finger, “Um… one problem though. Xal’atath’s whole ‘teleportation blocker’ means I can’t use my hearthstone to summon my mount.” she pointed out.

Laura smirked, then in a swirl of scarlet flames and magic a blue-scaled dracthyr replaced the elven-looking woman who had been there a moment before as Laura shed her visage and became Laurelgosa once more. “I believe I have a solution for that.” she replied, then before Sam could protest she hooked an arm behind her legs and lifted her up into a bridal carry, spreading her wings.

“H-hey! Hang on! Before was one thing bu-…” she began, and with a great leap and a mighty flap the evoker took flight, shooting up into the sky as Samantha quickly wrapped her arms around Laurelgosa’s neck and held on for dear life! “GODSDAMMIT LAURELGOSAAAAAAA!” she shrieked as the wind whipped past.

At least on a mount she could ride on a saddle with reins to hold onto, but this was quite the twist on that situation! The dracthyr gained altitude over the city, then banked towards the walls. “What? You said it yourself Samantha, we are bereft of our mounts here. At least we have the good fortune that one of us does not need one to take to the skies.” she grinned toothily.

Samantha felt her cheeks warm at the sight as a thought occurred to her. Was Laurelgosa… flirting with her? “W-whatever… Annulus? Can you sense anything?” she asked.

A tendril twitched on her shoulder as Samantha heard the voice of her unseen companion in her mind.

“Yes. Unfortunately, I see it everywhere. Whatever Xal’atath is doing here, the entire island is rippling with the power of the void from underneath. It is even stronger than what I could sense on the Dragon Isles.” replied the void creature.

Sam frowned and relayed this to Laurelgosa, the dracthyr woman looking troubled. “Hm… unfortunate.” she murmured. “Perhaps this is the spell she has woven to prevent us from escaping the island.”

One of the tentacles on Samantha’s shoulder twitched as they glided out from Dornogal, and she shook her head, “Annulus doesn’t think so. She says its too strong for that. Whatever is doing this is powerful, but she says it feels like its also far away…” she explained, then a tendril twitched and she added, “… below us too, like straight down. She says it might be why Xal’atath is here, but she can’t tell what it is from this far away.”

Laurelgosa narrowed her eyes, the dracthyr hissing in a worried sort of way, “… deep below us, and she has allied with the children of the aquir.” she murmured, “Whatever her purpose is, her lair must be many miles underground. This is most certainly why she destroyed the Coreway in Dornogal. To prevent us from giving chase into the caves below.”

Samantha nodded, “Which means that as long as we can’t follow her Xal’atath has no reason to give a single shit that we’re squatting in Dornogal…” she frowned, “Dammit…” she sighed, then she gasped as a whistling came from her pouch.

“Laurelgosa! That’s my gemstone! LAND! QUICK!” she nodded as the dracthyr’s eyes widened. She angled towards a nearby hill and swooped down, gliding to a halt atop it as Samantha quickly got her feet on the ground and fished out her gem, drawing the rune for ‘connect’ on the surface to see a familiar mage looking back at her.

“Oh, Nelen. Hey.” she sighed in disappointment. She’d been hoping it’d be one of the others as it’d mean that they could communicate with the rest of their allies again.

“Mm, sorry to not be someone else Samantha… but happily it looks like our gemstones are only blocked from connecting to ones that aren’t currently on the Island with us so at least we can still use them for each other. Anyways, you should both come back to the inn right away. Sekhi is awake.” he nodded.

Laurelgosa gasped as Samantha let out a relieved sigh, then the void elf drew the rune for sever on the gem and broke the connection. She put it away, then glanced at Laurelgosa and felt her cheeks warm again. “… w-well, we don’t have any other way to get back besides walking…” she shrugged.

The dracthyr smirked at her, “Oh? Is it so bad to have to travel this way Samantha?” she asked, scooping her up again, then spreading her wings and soaring upwards as the void elf wrapped her arms around her shoulders, watching the world shrink away below them.

Samantha thought on that… she felt oddly secure now that she thought about it… which she had to admit was a feeling that even now she was still getting used to. Having someone she could feel safe with. Even around the rest of Avalon it was still strange to her given her childhood, and her early youth (early by elf standards anyways) with Hulfdan’s gang.

Her fellow thieves weren’t horrible to her compared to her father and sister, but they were still a band of brigands and cutthroats, and she could never entirely trust them. The Blackbeard Boys will watch out for their own, but you’ll sleep with one eye open and a knife in your boot if you know what’s good for you. Especially if you’re too lucky at dice.

Now, soaring over the ground below, feeling Laurelgosa’s arms supporting her, she had to admit… this was something she might like to get used to.

Dornogal’s Inn

Sekhi sat at the table, her muzzle practically buried in the bowl as she scarfed down the remaining berries they’d managed to forage. She’d slept for two days solid, and the tiny foxlike woman was famished! Her tail swished behind her in a blur as she ate like her life depended on it, finally raising her head with a muzzle stained in fruit juices. “Hot sands that’s better!” she grinned, “I don’t yippin’ remember th’ last time I was THAT hungry!”

Nelen smiled at her, leaning back in his chair as he chewed on a root with as much enjoyment as he could muster for the dry crunchy vegetable. “Glad to see you this energetic again Sekhi. Slept well have you?” he asked.

Sekhi grinned and nodded her head, “Yup yup! No dreams, no visions, no nothin’!” she replied, folding her ears back, “I know Azeroth ain’t tryin’ ta hurt me with th’ visions, she’s just scared… but… they’re so LOUD…” she whined.

Uh’kue smirked, “Well, next time dey be gettin’ too loud ya come find me lil’ foxy mon.” she chuckled, “Uh’kue be gettin’ Azeroth ta give ya anudder break if ya be needin’ it.”

Sekhi nodded, “Hehe… I ‘preciate it… really.” she smiled, her tail wagging as she settled back down. “So… yah, what’d I miss th’ past few days?” she asked.

Nelen sighed, “A lot. Dalaran is rubble, King Anduin is back, we’re all trapped here. Our hearthstones won’t work, my portals collapse the second I try to open one, our gemstones can’t connect with anyone outside the island, nobody knows where the fel Khadgar is… it’s a mess.” he replied.

Sekhi nodded at that, her ears folding back, “Mnn… w-well, at least Leza is okay…” she whined, then paused and glanced at Uh’kue, “Um, Leza is my sister. She was in Dalaran with us but we got her back ta Orgrimmar before th’ spider-guys took out th’ portal. She musta told Savage United what happened ta us by now.” she nodded.

“We can hope so Sekhi, but we have no idea if they’ll be able to make it to the island… for now, we’re just going to have to wait.” he sighed, shrugging his arms.

Sekhi nodded, flicking her ear as she cocked her head, then she cocked her head the other way and flicked her other ear. “… umm…” she tilted her head to the left, then to the right, flicking her ears as she looked up, then she sighed and let out an annoyed chitter, “Oh sure, NOW Azeroth is gonna calm down…” she huffed.

Uh’kue laughed at that, then she smirked, “Bah! Azeroth be wantin’ ta give ya a break, don’t complain! De visions come when dey do.” she nodded, “Ya been run ragged mon. Ya get a chance ta rest, ya take it. Whatever be happenin’ here be somethin’ we need ta be ready for, so go get ready.” she nodded.

Sekhi stood up and nodded, “Hmm… yeah… Imma go look around outside th’ city for some snacks. Th’ berries were nice, but if ya ain’t used ta that poison it’ll give ya th’ dooks.” she nodded.

Nelen blinked in surprise, “… er… what?” he asked.

“Yeah, th’ berries ya found are a lot like these ones that grew in Vol’dun. Th’ poison ain’t the kill-y kind, but they make ya dook a lot. ‘s how the seeds get spread around. If ya eat ‘em growin’ up they stop makin’ ya dook so I’ll be fine. Didn’t know ya liked ‘em too.” she smiled, then headed out of the inn towards the gates of the city.

Nelen watched her go, his mouth a thin line.

“Ya mon, dey not too different from dese berries back on Zandalar. Make a good tea when ya get used ta dem.” nodded Uh’kue.

Nelen nodded slowly, “How… fascinating…” he replied in a somewhat strained voice.

Uh’kue looked at him, then smirked, “Ya not be knowin’ de berries do dat, did ya wolfmon?” she asked.

Nelen shook his head, he was starting to sweat.

“Ya don’t got an immunity ta de poison do ya?” she added, her grin widening.

Nelen shook his head again, an ominous gurgle rising from his stomach.

“Dere be bushes behind de inn. Lil’ alleyway, nice ‘n secluded.” she chuckled.

“Thank you!” he gasped out, then got up and ran as quickly as his dignity would allow out of the inn and around the corner as Uh’kue threw her head back in laughter again.

#warcraft roleplay #warcraft #warcraft fanfiction #adventures in azeroth #world of warcraft #the war within

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