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neoplatinum · 11 months ago

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we can't be friends - ariana grande | minatozaki sana

summary: the earth only has one moon, are you really the moon to sana's earth?

pairing: childhood-friend!sana x fem!reader

themes: extremely angsty, best friends to ?? to ??, internalized homophobia, gender dysphoria, sana's not too great of a friend, reader is a pushover until she isn't, implied sex, original male character, [----] x reader

wc: 3.2k

(side b: north and south poles | minatozaki sana)

from what you've learned in school, at the very early age of kindergarten is that the earth only has one moon, only one. mars has two moons: phobos and deimos.

when you were kids, you were called deimos, sana was called mars, and fuji was called phobos. it was always you three together, running through the streets of the countryside of japan.

causing so much trouble for your administrators, running around yelling down the halls of your school, the terrible trio of class 2-A. leaving school was always fun too, running around for snacks and jumping at the sight of cats.

you and sana were always closer, whenever fuji had to go home early because of his strict extracurriculars, you spent time with sana. walking by the train tracks, looking for lost coins for the vending machine or even staying for dinner with sana’s parents. it felt like it was you three taking on the small town.

until it didn’t. when middle school rolled around, you were excited to see them two after a couple of weeks of summer. each of you was busy with other things in life, making it hard to meet each other. so on the first day of school, you strolled in, ready to take on the new school year with sana and fuji by your side, when you noticed they weren’t talking much to each other.

fuji found basketball friends in his group, clinging to them like they were his new lifeline. sana has gotten close to the popular girls, they were nice but very superficial, all having drama with each other but in front of the group, they all faked smiles for each other.

you found yourself in between two different worlds, you tried calling to them after school, but they both dismissed you saying they had extracurriculars. fuji had gone off to play with his friends during basketball practice, while sana participated in school government association.

you got tricked into becoming treasurer for the sga that very year, so it was nice to still be around sana. although you could feel her distance.

it isn’t until one spring afternoon, you feel your first ever heartbreak. sana rushes into the sga room while you were napping on a desk.

she taps your shoulder excitedly, “wake up!”

you rub your eyes and focus on sana, who’s shoving a letter in your hand. you read the first line and yeah, your heart is crushed.

“fuji confessed to me!” she shouts excitedly, doing a little dance by herself as you read the lines.

“oh, congrats.” you hand the letter back to her, she looks at you a bit puzzled by your simple reaction.

“he asked me out! im so excited.” she explains, going into detail about their supposed first date. “he might kiss me, what do you think?”

“if you want to kiss him, then kiss him.”

she rolls her eyes at that, of course she knows that. that’s not what she’s implying.

“what i mean is, i’ve never had my first kiss! i don’t know what to do.” she goes on, thinking about it seriously. “what if he kisses me, and i suck and he doesn’t want to kiss me.”

“sana, if he thinks you being a bad first kisser is a deal breaker then dump him.”

you explain, placing your head back on your arms.

“you have to help me!”

“help?”

“kiss me, pretend you’re fuji.”

“no way sana.”

“why? too much of a chicken to kiss me?”

“no im not!”

"bawk bawk bawk" sana mocks you. making flapping arm motions to imitate a chicken.

“fine!” you hold yourself together (as much as you can) and place your lips gently against sana, pulling her in by the neck. caressing her cheek before letting her go. her eyes are dazed.

“wow yeah, that was good.” she fiddles with her school skirt, “i wish you were a boy, you’d make a girl very happy kissing her like that.” she blushes and leaves you alone, you feel that jagged break in your heart tear a little longer.

your tears don't stop as you try and go back to taking a nap, feeling your breathing getting heavy and you stay the rest of the afternoon, crying about not being born a guy for sana.

that was the last time you really talked to sana, too hurt that you cut your hair short the next day in the bathroom sink. crying tears into the porcelain bowl, with tears filling around your choppy hair. when you finally stop, you try liking the idea of it being short like a boys. but sana doesn’t spare you a glance. suddenly the hair feels too choppy and the air that you didn't feel when your hair was long starts to bother you.

it doesn't bother you for long, once your hair grows back. it feels right, like you were meant to look this pretty and feminine. you stay away from both sana and fuji as much as you can.

until one day sana knocks rapidly at your door, you haven't had her over in years. high school created even more distance between you two, you found your own people to be around. people that never overlapped with sana and fuji.

until you see sana staring at you from across the door, eyes still sparkling as they always have, in that charming look. and the longer face, the warm smile and comforting scent of flowers. as much she is the sana you remember, you don't think she's the same sana you once knew.

"hi."

"hi sana, are you okay?" you let her in. and it's like you're transported back to when you were thirteen, letting sana come over whenever she needed to complain about fuji and his "boy" tendencies. now that you're both 18 and ready to set off into the real world, you feel a little strange having sana visit.

"yeah, i need your help." she starts, dropping her bag onto the floor. you feel your heart rate spike a bit, was sana in trouble?

"help with what?" you offer her a bottle of her favorite drink, royal milk tea.

"you remembered." she says softly, grabbing it and downing it in a few quick seconds, a sign she's nervous and with the tapping of her foot. you're feeling anxious just at the sight. "fuji asked to have sex."

you nearly spit out your own water, "what?" your eyes are wide and you stare at sana as she keeps her eyes away from you.

"i need your help."

"did he do something sana? i'll kill him myself." you get up.

"no, none of that. i want to, have sex i mean. i just can't with him first."

"why not?"

"well, i...i want my first time to not be him. i just know it in my heart."

"okay. so how am i supposed to help you?"

"be my first."

"sana! you can't ask that of me."

"why not? we're best friends, of course we can."

"sana no, you love fuji, he should be your first if you love him. you're dating him too, that would be cheating."

"i dont, i dont think, i just." she shakes her head. "it can't be with him first." she ends it softly, hands in her lap. looking like she's been scolded. you feel the guilt bubbling up in your stomach; here she was being vulnerable, and you just accused her of being a cheater.

"what's really going on?" you ask, she's not making sense anymore.

"i need you to be my first, i want you to be. it can't be anyone else." sana is firm. standing up and taking your hands in hers. with her eyes looking into yours like that, like she knows how much you love and adore her. you can't find yourself to say no, even if it betrays fuji.

"okay."

"yeah?" her eyes light up.

"yeah." you pull sana upstairs, and begging her to forget about fuji, just for one night. to only focus on you and to pull out those pretty sounds of sana uttering your name into the night.

you don't stop until you feel sana against you, like it's where she belongs, right in your arms.

when sana leaves in the morning, you feel that gash that you've been trying so hard to heal get ripped apart again. she thanks you like you're someone who was there to provide a service to her, like that's the only purpose you served her that night.

as if you didn't pour your heart out as you kissed down her torso, cherishing her body like the gods sculpted it. as if she isn't the only woman in the world, you begin to think maybe that's what you were made for. someone to exist for sana, and never with her.

this hurtful thought bumps around your brain, hitting every surface of it, you feel your heart break into two. like you're led on a leash by sana, without her letting you ever leave.

it becomes a habit, a habit you can't break. you circling between the sana and fuji whenever it was the holidays or birthday parties. each year you feel more and more of your soul slip away. you can't begin to tell where your identity begins and ends without sana.

doesn't help that fuji is a good man for sana. always considerate and careful, giving her the space and time she needs when she's overwhelmed. you think sana chose well, a good man in her life that'll never waver his loyalty for her.

but it leaves you in disarray, sana contacting you for her relationship problems. leaving fuji all alone as she calls you to escape. weeks spent away from fuji, where you two meet hidden away from the world. a hidden place filled with drunk kisses and hookups, ones you would never utter to fuji.

you being invited at her parties, seeing his arms draped around her like you weren't caressing them just days ago. it's all too much, you don't know if you can be friends with her. ever again.

until she marries fuji, she hands you their invitation card herself. how dare she? after years of being a secret she hands you a knife for you to stab into your heart, and she does it with a smile. explaining how happy she is to have the wedding of her dreams, while you feel the woman of your dreams slip right through your fingers.

but then the reality hits, she was never yours to begin with, you two are simply friends. just best friends that know each other's bodies too well.

you play your part well, giving a dedicated speech to them two. reminiscing of the early days of you as a trio. days of mischief, talking about learning of their feelings for each other, making jokes about how they were polar opposites, destined to find each other magnetically. you leave out the part where you think you would fit well with sana even if you aren't the opposing magnet.

you try and stay away from her as much as you can after the wedding, to save your own heart (as much there is left). blocking her number and taking time away from japan. going overseas to travel, and it works out well, you meet a woman named momo, you don't mention the woman to sana. you don't hear from sana and you feel your heart calm a bit, like it's finally able to take a break.

when you return to japan, you find her at your doorsteps, fallen asleep at your door. she wakes up to the sight of you and hugs you immediately, complaining about how worried she was that you disappeared. you don't mention how you blocked her number. letting sana into your apartment and she drops the biggest news on you that you could ever expect: shes pregnant.

"congratulations sana!" you fake a smile and she goes on to explain that it's going to be a little girl. and she's so excited to dress her up and have a daughter.

you feel like you're hearing static noise as she goes on, sitting on your couch talking animatedly about the new nursery and all the books she's been reading about motherhood. it isn't until she finally steps away to go home that you realize that you never said more than congratulations.

months later, she births the beautiful baby girl. you wait outside the room, a balloon in one hand and a pack of diapers in the other. the nerves of having to see sana after so long made you vomit in the hospital bathroom just ten minutes ago. you try to focus on anything else, the sterile walls, the smell of sanitizer, the sounds of nurses chatting. then you see fuji step outside, looking like a tired first-time father.

"congratulations fuji!" you say as you pass him the diapers. he laughs at the sight and thanks you before saying he's going outside to get some food and that sana is awake.

you step into the hospital room and hear the rhythmic heart monitor and low beeps of machines. there sana is, exhausted as ever but happily babbling to her baby. you can see the little baby in the swaddle. you walk up to the bedside.

"hi sana, congratulations on your new baby." you tie the balloon to her bed, and she smiles at you, tired but always warm. "she's beautiful, sana." you wash your hands and poke at her cheek.

"isn't she? i think it's too early to say, but she might have my eyes." you look back down and see the baby, eyes closed in bliss. you think they look like sana's too. ones that you used to look at as kids.

"i want to name her after you." she starts, gently caressing her head. you stop, leaning back quickly.

“dont do that sana, don’t give it the same curse you gave me.” you bite out. sana stops caressing the baby's face to look at you. “forced to love someone who will never love them back.”

"what are you talking about?" sana says gently, you've never raised your voice at her in all the years you've known each other.

"sana, you can't give her my name. i forbid you to." you say sternly; after how much she destroyed you, you're not letting her name her daughter that.

"but, why?" she's still perplexed, eyes wide.

"it's not right." you look away from sana, years of pain resurfacing just at the idea. "you really hurt me, i don't want you to name your daughter after me."

she doesn't press you on the matter anymore, anxious eyes darting all over the room, trying to find an escape from this conversation.

"what about being her godmother?"

"i'm moving away sana."

it's like the final nail in the coffin, both phrases being said at the same time. you realize there's no other way to say it, not over text or a call. it's better to say it here, ripping off the bandaid completely.

"moving? where are you moving?" you can hear the heartbeat machine beeping faster, and you see her heart rate climbing steadily.

"korea, i got a job over there." you say dismissively.

"oh wow, when do you move?" sana's voice is timid as she tries to hold back tears at the idea.

"i leave in a week." you say, picking your stuff up getting ready to leave. "congratulations again sana, your baby is beautiful and healthy. tell fuji that he'll be a good father, i know it." and with that you step to leave, and just as you turn the knob you can hear it, the sound of sana crying.

you try not to cry yourself, but you can't stay here. orbiting around two people who are building their life together. you weren't supposed to be here to begin with. earth never had two moons. you nearly bump into fuji when he opens the door.

"oh fuji, i'm sorry i couldn't stay long." you offer when you see him outside, food in hand and excited to talk to you, he smiles sadly. giving you a hug as you walk outside.

feeling like for once you control your own life, your love is yours, and no longer sana's.

"stay a while longer, sana is so excited to see you!" he says, trying to urge you to come back inside.

"it's okay, we'll see each other around." you turn to look back at sana, and she stares right into you with tears running down her face and glaring at you. you just told your final lie to sana, closing the door behind them, like you closed your relationship with sana.

you don't see sana for years; it's strange. growing up with so much hurt and pain made it difficult to enjoy your romantic relationships, but you realize there is always a person for you, yours being hirai momo, not sana minatozaki.

here at incheon international airport, you stretch from your seat, needing to get some movement in before you sit in that cramped airplane seat for hours. so you make a beeline to the bathroom, walking directly into a young girl.

she falls backwards, nearly hitting her head on the floor, but you catch her in time.

"hi sweetie you okay?" you pat her down, pulling her shirt down. she nods at you and you see her eyes, and you feel your memories shift back to when you were five years old, meeting that girl that sat near you in class 2-A. she runs towards someone.

you stand up and recognize those eyes immediately, sana minatozaki in the flesh after five years. eyes wide as she stares at you. fuji right by her side.

you can see the recognition in sana's eyes. you walk right up to them, offering the couple a hug. sana's arms grip onto you so tightly you feel your ribs in her hold. then you feel a tug at your pant leg.

you turn around and smile at the girl by your leg.

"say hi hana, this is sana and fuji." your little girl waves to them hi, while sana is still staring at you. fuji starts congratulating you, excited to see that you have a daughter. you let out a laugh. then you feel a pat on your back, with momo walking up to kiss you.

then you let your daughter down to play with sana's daughter. eyes fond at the two little girls chasing after each other.

“it’s been a while.” sana's voice cuts into your thinking.

“yeah, i guess it has.” you reply, finally looking at her after so long. sana gulps, willing the tears away.

"honey, you’re crying.” fuji says wiping away sana's tear, you smile at that. he's good for her.

“oh i didn't notice.” sana laughs, rapidly wiping her tears away.

you let the three of them talk, momo joining in and introducing herself. you're left feeling a bit better about your decision to leave sana's side all those years ago. waiting for her to love you back would've costed your relationship with momo, especially since you would have never had hana.

it's important to know when being friends turns into we can't be friends anymore.

a/n: hehehehehe, angst is so fun to write, that's probably why it's everywhere in my writing. thank you to the anon who requested this! i wrote this in like 6hrs. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

#sana x reader #twice sana #sana twice #minatozaki sana #sana minatozaki #twice x you #twice x reader #twice #kpop imagines #neoplatinum

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pullupinarari · 5 months ago

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Lean your weight on me [LH]

4. When we are together

Summary: a 9 chapter series where you are a famous singer, living the career of your dreams. But your chaotic schedule makes your body give in, making you lose your memory and forget (almost) everything.

Author’s note: I struggled a bit to write this chapter and I don’t know if I completely like this, but I’m really excited for the next chapters because things will go downhill again 🤭 anyway I hope you enjoy this!! Mwah

wc: 4247 - English is not my first language and this is barely proofread! Feedback is always appreciated

all chapters here

Every day is a new adventure to you. Every day you discover new details about you and your life, you meet new people - even if they have known you during your entire life, they’re still new to you. You feel like a child, uncovering facts about the world and how life works for you.

Lewis has been beside you every step of the way - during your doctor appointments, the sleepless nights, the sleepy days, the energy rushes, the anger accesses, the questions. And he would do it all as much as you need it him to, he would be by your side in a heartbeat whenever you called his name.

Slowly, you were able to keep some things in your memory - like your brain was starting to function properly again. But you still got overwhelmed when people would reach out to you with a lot of information, not giving you time to process everything. You would still cry when someone would insist on asking you “how can you not remember me?”, making Lewis stand up for you while gently asking people to leave you alone. It would always end up like this: you, cradled in his arms, as he would kiss your head and caress your hair, whispering how everything is fine, how you will be alright.

You lose your mind sometimes, you get upset, your anger consumes you when your mind doesn’t cooperate with you. But Lewis has the power in himself to say the right words, to give the best cuddles when you’re doubting yourself.

“Love, I’ll be downstairs doing some exercise, call me if you need anything, okay?” - Lewis tells you as he leaves a kiss on your forehead. You nod your head at him, snuggling your body closer to Roscoe as you and the dog explore some tv channels.

Your eyes carefully scan through the images in front of you as you end up opening YouTube. The newfound world of people vlogging their days and posting them online, makes you come up with an idea: why not record your journey as well? It could be very helpful to you, to keep track of your progress, to take note of every new memory popping up in your mind, because sometimes, everything just feels like it’s too much for you.

The thought of it lights up your brain, making you feel excited about it. So you search for Lewis’ phone - not having access to your own just yet, not feeling ready to deal with the overwhelming waves of information that it contains. You take a seat on the floor now, as you place the phone on the coffee table in front of you, opening the camera and pressing record.

You smile at the image of your dog appearing on the video. “Will you help me with this, Roscoe?” - you ask, petting the animal as you take a deep breath.

“So, today is July 2nd, and it’s been three weeks - I guess? Since I’ve lost my memory. The doctors say that I suffered from a burnout, and they don’t know yet if I’ll be able to get all my memories completely back, so I decided to start recording these videos in order to keep track of my progress during this time” - you start explaining, your face scrunching as you try to remember all the tiny bits that you’ve been learning lately.

“Lewis was the only person I had some small recollection of, but I thought he was just my boyfriend. Turns out he is actually my husband, which is crazy” - giggles leave your mouth as you enjoy yourself while telling your story to the camera.

“So far, I’ve met Lewis’ parents - they were very sweet to me, and my mother-in-law makes the best soup ever! I recently found out about my best friend, her name is Grace and she’s is so cool! I met her the other day and we caught up a bit: she explained to me that we’ve been friends for twelve years now, and even showed me some pictures of us together. Unfortunately they didn’t rang any bells in my head, but I’m excited to know more about her, so she’s coming around later today so we can hang out together for a bit longer”, you pause to think about what more can you say.

“My routine feels like a new adventure every day. Every morning, Lewis and I go for a walk outside - with Roscoe of course, so I can get used to the environment around me. It feels like I’m challenging myself as I try to memorise the colour of every building on our block, and I try to get the colours right as I anticipate the building we’re going to see next. I’ve managed to get some right already” - as you continue speaking to the camera, Lewis leans on the door, his eyebrows showing a confused expression, at the same time that he’s mesmerised by the way you’re voicing your thoughts and feelings through this journey.

“What are you doing, baby?” - he asks, taking you out of your trance, his face curious as he slowly walks to you.

You look up at him, blushing a bit at being caught recording yourself. “I thought it could be a good idea to record my journey while I’m trying to get my memory back. I saw some people vlogging about different topics on YouTube and it seemed interesting. It might help me keeping track of my evolution” - your words make a smile appear on Lewis’ face, who kisses your head before leaving to take a shower, with an idea tingling in his mind.

Your husband comes back after his shower, meeting you in the kitchen while you were making yourself a fruit salad. “Want to see what I have in my hand?” - he asks, hugging you from behind with one arm as he kisses your shoulder gently. You look back at him, nodding your head in curiosity.

“Ta-daaa” - he says while he shows you his video camera, with a smile in his face and a giggle escaping his lips.

“Why do you have a camera in your hands?” - you question, confused by his face expression.

“If my girl wants to vlog, let’s vlog like pros! It’s more exciting to film with an actual camera instead of with a boring phone. Maybe we can even put all the videos together in the end and admire your journey to recovery” - he grins, almost drooling at how much he loves you, how proud he is of you and your strength during these hard times.

Your eyes shine as you hear his words - seeing Lewis getting involved in something that’s so important to you, makes your heart grow. And when words seem to fail you, you hug him tight, your bodies so close to each other that you can almost feel his heartbeat syncing with yours.

The doorbell takes you out of your moment, and Lewis goes to open the door, revealing a smiley Grace, that brings some flowers and a box on her hands. You greet her with a hug, trying to get used to touch with different people.

“I’ll leave you two alone so you can have some privacy, I’ll be in my office finishing some work. Call me if you need anything” - Lewis says after greeting your friend, kissing your head again before heading upstairs with Roscoe - it’s an habit that he has now: he can never leave the room you’re in without kissing your head, your forehead, your temple, without showing some affection and protection towards you. On the inside, he still blames himself for what happened, for not giving you as much attention as you needed, for not preventing what happened, so he’s trying to make up for it.

Grace notices the video camera on the table as she puts the box down in the kitchen.

“What are you up to?” - Grace questions with a curious tone.

“Oh, I decided to start recording small videos about my journey, so I can keep track of my progress! I actually mentioned you earlier on the first video, do you want to be a part of it?” - your best friend nods, excited to be part of your diary.

“I bought you your favourite flowers and your favourite cake. Maybe you should record your reaction tasting it?” - she suggests.

You place the camera in front of the two of you, and Grace explains to you how vanilla and chocolate cake is your ultimate favourite flavour ever.

“I can’t wait to take a bite, then!” - you answer enthusiastically. It will be nice to taste something that you used to love so much, right? Maybe it might help bring old memories back to you - at least, you expect it does.

But when you taste the fluffy texture of the cake, your face can’t help but contort in displeasure. The flavour doesn’t taste good to you at all, it feels sickening to your stomach, to the point when you have to spit it out, not having the guts to let it land on your stomach.

Grace gets concerned about your reaction. That’s your favourite cake, why aren’t you enjoying it? The girl takes a bite, to make sure the cake isn’t spoilt - and it really isn’t. It tastes good to her, so what’s happening to your reaction?

Your instinct kicks in - and you immediately call for Lewis, as if some emergency just happened.

He comes downstairs, meeting you in the kitchen and your face lets him know that something is wrong.

“Can you please confirm that this used to be my favourite cake?” - you ask him, not even paying attention to Grace anymore.

Lewis looks at the cake and tastes it.

“Yes love, this is your favourite one. It even was our wedding cake’s flavour, since you loved it so much” - he informs you, making your face screw in confusion.

“No, it can’t be. I hate this flavour! It tastes bad!” - you insist, not really believing what both of them are telling you. You don’t feel right, this doesn’t feel right. It’s just a piece of cake, but why aren’t things aligning?

Lewis looks at you speechless. He doesn’t know what’s going on, he can’t understand why some cake flavour is putting you on the edge so much, why can’t you just let it go? He tries to calm you down by holding your hands, reminding you to breathe, to take it easy.

But this is awakening something inside of you - more feelings of confusion, of pure frustration for not recognising yourself. You feel like you don’t fit the stories that people tell you about your old life.

And when you look at Grace, you can see the sadness in her eyes, the disappointment on her face. Your best friend is on the verge of crying by the thought of you not trusting her enough on what she told you - you still had to call Lewis to confirm her words.

She’s the person who was supposed to know you better than anyone, and she really thought it was a good idea to bring you something that she knew you would love - or at least, she thought you would love it. But now you hated it, and it’s like you just dug a hole in her heart.

Grace knows that it’s not your fault, and she doesn’t mean to make you feel guilty by any means, but the way she just mutters a “I’ll better go”, while collecting her belongings and taking the damn cake with her, seeing herself out, it’s enough to stain your chest with guilty, anxiety pooling over you now.

You can feel yourself starting to spiral again as the front door closes. “What have I done? Why don’t I feel like myself again? Now she’s upset and I didn’t mean to-“ - Lewis immediately cuts you off by hugging you, shushing you and all the thoughts in your mind for a second.

Still, you can’t help but let some tears spill from your eyes. This journey has been harder than any of you could imagine. It’s taking a toll on Lewis to see you struggling so much with something as simple as some cake - and now, Grace is also being affect by all this: and mainly by your attitudes.

Lewis is still holding you close, kissing your head time after time, trying to think about a way to help you, to distract you.

Your head sinks in his chest as your cries grow louder, desperation taking over you - the feeling of tiredness doesn’t seem to disappear, you can’t take this anymore. It feels like nothing is getting better and you keep hurting everyone around you, even if you don’t mean to.

“My love, look at me, please” - your husband tells you, while his hands carefully try to hold your head.

“This is all my fault, I keep hurting everybody, I’m such a burden” - your sobs are muffled by his shirt, you’re unable to look at him in the eyes after feeling like a failure, an unnecessary weight in his life.

“Y/N, listen to me” - he’s now distancing his body from yours, so you are forced to look at him, even if you avoid his gaze on you.

“You are not a burden, you could never be a burden to me. I decided to marry you six years ago because life beside you is easy, you ease my mind on my dark days, you lighten my heart when it feels heavy. I do everything for you, I will give you my life if needed, I will fight for you until my last breath. And it kills me to hear you say something like this, it really hurts me to see you going through all this, struggling so hard with something that you definitely didn’t deserved to go through” - he looks at you dead in the eyes as his hands are placed on each side of your head, trying to get his words into your thick brain.

“We all understand that you are going through something that none of us could even imagine what it feels like. And you need to let go of all that guilt, because none of this it’s your fault, my love. And no one is blaming you, we are here, by your side” - his voice sounds softer now.

“But some people act like they are upset with me“ - you try to say through your sobs.

“If people want to get upset, then let them be. If they don’t have the compassion and the understanding in themselves to be patient with you during this hard time, that’s their problem and maybe that will show you that some people are not worthy of your time anymore. But even if everyone decides to leave, I’m staying. There’s nothing that could ever make me leave your side, you’re stuck with me. So please don’t feel like you’re a burden - especially when it comes to me. You can lean your entire weight on me, my love. I will gladly hold you, I’ll take every ounce of it, I’ll deal with whatever I have to, I’ll lift you up and bring you back home, like we always did to each other. Because at the end of the day, it’s just us, our home, our family. And that will never change. You held me when I was struggling, and now you’re the one that needs me the most, so let me be here for you. We’re a team, baby, we’ll get through this together. So get this in your head, yeah?” - he finishes speaking, making you nod your head as his words fly straight to your heart, easing the pain for a bit.

You take some deep breathes, trying to overcome what just happened.

“Thank you” - you sincerely say as you give him as a small smile. He smiles back at you.

“Go put on some comfortable clothes, my love. We need to distract that mind of yours” - he says, preparing some snacks while you change your clothes, having an idea that might help you feel better.

You two get in the car, taking Roscoe with you. Lewis starts driving, letting you know that he will be taking you to a “quiet place where you can catch some fresh air”.

“It will be good for you, trust me on this” - he says with a knowing attitude.

You open the car window, leaning your head against the frame, feeling how the wind hits your face, how it pulls your hair and how those simple sensations have the power to make you feel alive.

Lewis’ heart calms down a bit as he sees you relaxing already, as you pet Roscoe on your lap, and admire the landscape in front of you.

Your eyes widen as you approach a field full of cows, surprised by how most of them are lying down on the grass.

“Lew, look! The cows are all lying down” - you note, pointing your finger at them, feeling like a kid that is seeing them for the first time.

“I once read an article about how the weather makes them lie down. I think it’s because it will rain soon, or something like that” - he explains, watching you take the video camera out of your bag. He slows down his driving, so you can have the perfect view of the animals, really focusing on their position while you giggle at the view.

Then, you turn the camera to yourself, recording how Roscoe is snuggled against you - probably feeling the cold air hitting him as well. You warm his body with your arms, grateful that you decided to use a sweater that you stole from Lewis’ side of the closet. Then, you recorded you and your husband, as you got closer to him and left a sweet kiss on his cheek, making him blush a little as you kept giggling, feeling way lighter than before. To be honest, the only time you feel you might get better, is when you two are together - just the two of you, your little family, your stories and the memories you’ve built together, and you’re learning all about them every day.

Lewis is positive that you could see the hearts forming in his eyes as he took in the sight beside him. You are still admiring the cows, a genuine smile spreading across your features, the type of smile that he missed seeing on you. Your aura looks brighter right now, distracted from the events that took place earlier, and he can’t help but realise once more how in love he is with you, and why he loves you so much - how lost he would feel without you in his life.

After some minutes, you two arrive at a park, full of big trees and beautiful flowers, adorned with a huge lake nearby. He takes the basket where he put the snacks that he prepared for you, and his hand grabs yours gently as you walk through the park, Roscoe following both of you faithfully in his leash.

You find a perfect spot near a tree, sitting there so you can watch the sunset that’s approaching and reflecting on the water in front of you. Lewis cuddles you in his chest, hugging you from behind as you two take in the feeling of finally being at peace after the storm that hit your brain a while ago. It’s been like this: each day is filled with ups and downs, but the most important thing is the way you two seem to overcome all of it.

The orange and pink colours fill the sky as you replay the cake scene in your mind. But instead of focusing on the bad side of it, you decide to use it as a way to know more details about your life.

“You said chocolate and vanilla was our wedding’s cake flavour, huh?” - you ask Lewis, interrupting the comfortable silence you were in. He smiles, snuggling his head on your shoulder.

“Yep. With cream cheese frosting and all” - he giggles while he remembers how the cake looked like.

“Can you tell me more about our wedding day?” - you can’t help but feel curious about it. It should have been one of the happiest days of your life and yet, there’s not much that you know about it.

Lewis takes a moment to think about what can he tell you about the most special day of his life. He thinks about how tears filled his eyes when he turned around and saw you dressed in white, he remembers your vows until this day, but then he has a better idea.

“Why not showing you some pictures of it?” - he said, as he takes his phone out of his pocket. He searches for the photos, handing you the device so you could scroll through the folder of your wedding pictures.

You stay silent for a while, admiring how beautiful your dress looked, how handsome Lewis was, the sparkle that was so noticeable in your eyes - how happy you looked, and you can’t help but sink into his chest a little more, finding that type of protection, that type of safety again.

“Heaven, by Bryan Adams, was one of the songs we danced to” - he informs you, as he slowly rocks your body side to side, and sings a bit of the song to you.

I've been waiting for so long

For something to arrive, for love to come along

Now our dreams are coming true, through the good times and the bad

Yeah, I’ll be standing there by you

And baby you're all that I want

When you're lying here in my arms

I'm finding it hard to believe

We're in Heaven

His voice sounds so sweet to your ears, you look at him to leave a gentle kiss on his lips, your head lying on his shoulder now.

“Tell me more” - you plead him, eager to know more about such a special day. Now that you’ve seen pictures of it, of how you two were dressed, of the venue, your families celebrating your love, it’s easier to try and imagine everything else from that day in your head. And trying to do it, makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, like you’re falling in love with your husband all over again.

“I dedicated this John Legend song to you” - he says, while he starts playing “You and I (Nobody in the World)” in his phone, not daring singing it again. You listen to the lyrics, making some tears swell in your eyes, while you see the way Lewis looks at you - like you are really the only girl for him, like it’s just you and him now, in this world, in this peaceful park, wrapped in your bubble of love and protection, like the sun is setting just for the two of you. You couldn’t feel more special, and you definitely couldn’t be more in love. You two kiss again, as he hugs you, cuddling you while still rocking you slowly, like he’s lulling you to sleep.

Your mind feels tired from everything that happened today, so you close your eyes for a bit. And while the calmness of nature surrounds you, you fall asleep in his arms.

But your mind likes to play tricks on you. It’s like a supercut of the previous events take place in your brain, playing it on fast forward, rushing your memories, making a wave of anxiety and fear wash your body.

Lewis notices your body starting to shake and sweat forming in your forehead while you’re sleeping, making him feel uneasy about your state. So he decides to call your name, gently shaking you so you can wake up.

But you’re too deep into this nightmare, your mind telling you that you’re alone, replaying Grace’s face over and over again - you disappointed her, and everyone else around you. No one cares about you, nobody loves you, you’re on your own with an empty brain.

Lewis calls your name louder, shaking you harder now, not stopping until you wake up.

And once you open your eyes, your heart beats a million times faster, your face is covered in sweat, your head hurting really bad, you feel hot and tired, like you just ran a marathon.

You look around, taking in the place where you are, growing confused since it’s a bit darker outside now. And when you realise you are in some man’s embrace, your instinct kicks in, gathering all strength in you to immediately get up.

“Who are you?! Why are you holding me?!” - you scream at him, distancing yourself from the man as fast as you can, scared that he might chase after you, once you see him getting up as well, begging you to stop and wait for him. But you don’t know him, you don’t know what he wants from you, you’re too scared and lost to stop, so you just run until your legs grow tired and your body gives in - everything around you turning pitch black again.

———

taglist: @illalwayswaitforyourlove @literallegendicon @s-awturn @unknownmystery22 @goldenroutledge @scenesofobx @anat33-blog1 @irishmanwhore @forza-charles 🩷

#thoughts about lewis #lean your weight on me series #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton oneshot #lewis hamilton fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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robinsno1lesbian · 7 months ago

Note

Hi! So i have an idea for some Nancy smut because we are in desperate need of it!(at least i am)

Imagine you and Nancy have been roomates in college for about 3 months but,ever since you first laid eyes on her,you can’t get her out of your mind. You know that Nancy is probably not into girls and that she would never like someone she met 3 months ago,but this felt right.

However, you are way too scared to speak up and tell her about your feelings, because you are shy and awkward,but also because you were pretty sure she would reject you,Until one day,you were exhausted from how much you were studying and even though you knew it was wrong,you decided to ‘relax’ by masturbating,letting your imagination run free with thoughts of Nancy. And of course,when she gets back to the dorm weirdly earlier than usual,she catches you whispering her name as you hump a pillow you secretly stole from her.

So sorry for the long request,i added way too many details but i’ve had this idea for so long i memorised it:’)

𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

-n.w. x reader

summary: falling in love with your roommate in college, who happens to be nancy wheeler (because, honestly, who wouldn’t fall in love with her?) (3k)

warnings: SMUT!! masturbation, pillow humping, r gets caught, mention of oral sex, strap-ons & sex toys, vaginal fingering (r receiving), pet names (baby, pretty girl, sweetheart, darling), as always: i didn’t beta read before posting, let me know if i missed anything! :)

a/n: thank you so much for the request anon! don’t worry about it being “too long” or “too detailed”!! i love receiving new requests!! anyway i hope you like this! <3

things had been great. they’d been perfect, even. the day you got the acceptance letter from emerson, you’d been bouncing off the walls, happy to finally leave your small town behind.

they’d been great, still, when you learned who your roommate would be. she seemed nice, from the things you were told about her: nancy wheeler. from an equally small town somewhere in indiana. majoring in investigative journalism. and you thought, you really thought, maybe the two of you would become great friends.

and unfortunately for you, you did.

nancy was a great roommate from the start. she’s reliable, probably more than you are yourself, and caring. the kind of roommate who puts effort into really knowing you: she arranges movie nights and dinners together to have conversations.

she’s as old as you are, meaning you’ll graduate the same year, and often talks about her hometown, about some ex boyfriend of hers back in indiana and her family there.

nancy always waits until you’ve finished your breakfast or dinner before getting up, she helps you with your chores and even offers to help with your studying when she’s not too busy.

and, while you appreciate all of this, it’s slowly but surely driving you mad. nancy is.

she’s gorgeous, that’s the first thing you learned about her when the two of you met: brunette perm that’s framing sharp features and sapphire eyes, always watching you. her touch is firmer than you would expect, judging by her height and rather petite physique, and it seems to linger on you more often than not; her hands moving you by the waist to reach the dishwasher, fingers curling around your wrist when there’s a jumpscare in the horror film you’re watching together.

none of this would be a problem, if it wasn’t for the way it makes your heart flutter. it reminds you of falling in love for the very first time all over again: the secrecy of being head over heels for a girl you will never have. you thought that nancy wheeler would just be another one of those presumably straight girls who’ll never know how much you really liked them.

and while you were convinced you’d get over it in the first couple of weeks, it only got worse over time.

the more you learned about her, the more you fell for your roommate: you figured how she takes her coffee (black, no sugar or cream), and that she, for some reason, knows a whole lot about guns. you learned to love each of her facial expressions, from that tight lipped smile she’ll occasionally offer you, to the frown on her face when she’s trying to figure something out.

by the time your exams are right around the corner, you’re hopelessly in love with nancy wheeler.

you should be focused on nothing but studying and yet your roommate is all you can think about.

even when you’re sitting by the desk in your room, behind a pile of books and notes, you can’t stop your stupid mind from wandering.

you flip your pen around your index finger, groaning quietly as you find yourself rereading the same paragraph for the third time in a row without actually taking in the words. it’s all just one big blur.

if nancy was here, you find yourself thinking, she would praise you for the hard work. she would run her fingers up and down your shoulders from behind, her breath hot against the side of your neck…

“you’re working so hard sweetheart” imaginary nancy whispers in your head. “see? you’re all tense. god, darling, let me help you with that, yeah?”

you groan and bury your face in your hands. you can feel yourself throbbing in your pants and it’s pathetic.

you wonder if nancy would think so too, as you press the heels of your hands against your eyes. if she would scold you once she feels your slick against her fingertips, mock you for the amount of wetness and-

“fuck, fuck, fuck” you mutter, slamming your pen down onto the table top in frustration.

there’s no point in studying like this: when you’re practically soaking through your panties.

perhaps, you think, you just need a little stress relief. ever since you had moved in with nancy, you’ve made sure to keep quiet when it came to that. you had always slammed a hand over your mouth whenever you would be touching yourself in the quiet of the night. even after making sure nancy was asleep, you had made sure that your roommate wouldn’t hear the quiet whimpers of her name that would fall from your lips whenever you’d get close.

it was disgusting, you knew, perverted even. to get off to the thought of her and reach your height with nancy’s name on your lips, to close your eyes and picture her and the way she would sometimes come to the breakfast table in nothing but an oversized shirt and a pair of underwear that you’d catch a glimpse of whenever she’d get on her tiptoes to reach the upper cupboards.

the thing is, you can’t seem to stop.

you can’t stop watching her, you can’t stop thinking about her, you can’t stop your hand from slipping into your panties when you’re by yourself.

you couldn’t even stop yourself from taking the pillow nancy had left on the couch once. she must’ve forgotten it there after napping in the living room and you found it when cleaning the dorm. looking back at it now, you have no idea what possessed you to do it but you grabbed the silky pillow case and took it to your own room. nancy never asked for it back, never even noticed it was missing.

you let your gaze wander over all the notes on your desk one last time, sighing in defeat. studying like this is pointless, you decide, as you shake your head and get up, already peeling off the top you’re wearing and unbuttoning your pants. you drop them on the hardwood floor before laying yourself down onto your soothingly cold duvet.

you don’t bother to lock the door to your room: nancy said she would be out until later tonight and, given the fact that she’s always on time, you believe her.

your lashes flutter shut when you trace your fingertips over your skin: over the swell of your breasts, down your ribs and to the side of your hipbone.

you wonder if nancy touches herself like this. if she takes her time with it, teases herself through her clothes and lets her hands wander. or if, perhaps, she’s too impatient. maybe she gets straight to the point, you think, sucks her fingers into her mouth to get them nice and wet before fucking them into herself.

with a slow exhale, you feel yourself relaxing already. your heavy-lidded eyes wander until they reach your closet. in there, in the lowest drawer, you keep a box where you hide a couple of toys. and, right by that box, is nancy’s pillow.

you know that you shouldn’t. you know it. but your body moves on its own, walking over and getting it out.

when you lower yourself on the pillow, you picture her. it’s easy like this, finding a position that creates the perfect friction between the fabric and your center. you moan her name, quietly at first, but louder when you start grinding against the pillow.

when nancy enters the apartment, she’s quiet. it’s not that late yet, but she knows you’ve been studying for the upcoming exams and it wouldn’t surprise her if you’re exhausted from all the relentless, hard work.

she slips inside quietly and makes sure to shut the door behind her without causing any loud noises.

when she’s about to untie her shoes after putting aside her keys, she hears it for the first time. it’s just a little noise, somewhat of a gasp that echoes down the hall. yet nancy freezes. the sound obviously came from your room.

she stops in her tracks and turns her head towards your door. nancy quietly kicks off her shoes, unsure of whether or not she had just imagined it.

she has not.

another breathy moan comes from your room, one that’s unmistakably her name.

nancy inhales sharply, eyes wide open at the realization. she’s home earlier than expected, so you must’ve thought you would have the dorm to yourself for the night. she knows this is wrong. she should make a noise, clear her throat or drop the keys to make her presence known.

nancy wants to, she really does, but she can’t turn away.

instead, when she picks up another gasp of “oh my god, nancy” she moves towards your room.

hearing your pretty moans like this is something nancy had always wanted. she hadn’t expected the feeling to be mutual though, nor had she expected to hear you like this.

the idea of what you’re currently doing sends a jolt of arousal to her center as she approaches your room. the door isn’t fully closed, nancy notices, leaving a small gap that lets her see a glimpse of what’s happening inside…

you’re moving on the pillow frantically, your clit dragging over the silk deliciously.

you picture your roommate, beneath you, nails digging into your waist as you ride her face. you picture her tongue instead of the pillow, her mouth slurping up the slick of your arousal. her eyes, a deep shade of blue as they watch you moving on top of her.

you’re wet, you’re so wet, your underwear pushed to the side so you’re dripping all over the pretty pillow, grinding and gasping for air as you grip the pillow case tightly.

“oh, yes” you exhale slowly, whispering nancy’s name like a prayer. you can feel your orgasm building in your core already, the pillow soaked with your wetness. you roll your hips against it, chasing the heavenly feeling of your release.

“y/n…?”

your eyes immediately snap open. the reality of the situation only sinks in through the hazy fog of pleasure when you see nancy in your doorway. immediately, regardless of how weak your limbs feel, you scramble away from the pillow and try to cover as much of your body as possible.

“fuck” you pant, flinching away from her. “fuck- i- i’m so sorry nance! i- i can explain!”

you can’t explain, you know that. there’s no way to ‘explain’ why you were humping her pillow like that mere seconds ago. why you were moaning her name. you know, right then and there, that you’ve ruined everything.

“y/n” nancy repeats, her eyes wide. strangely enough, she doesn’t seem mad. not at all. there seems to be something in her voice though, a low, husky tone you’ve never heard before “holy shit”

it takes a moment for you to understand but that is definitely arousal in her voice. nancy is biting her lower lip, her eyes darker than usual as her gaze wanders over the scene in front of her.

“i can explain” you croak again, weaker.

“don’t” nancy hushes you, walking further into the room. “look you can tell me if i got it wrong, alright?”

you nod, hands slowly sliding down your body, exposing your breasts to her. heat rushes through you when her eyes dart down to stare at them.

“were you-“ nancy mumbles, crawling towards you on the bed. “moaning my name, y/n?”

“i-“ you turn your gaze away. immediately, nancy reaches for your chin and makes you look up at her.

“it’s okay” she whispers, her thumb dragging down your lower lip absentmindedly. “is that my pillow baby?”

you shiver. why isn’t she disgusted with you? why isn’t she mad that you were fucking humping her pillow like that?

“mhm”

“you wanted me that bad?” nancy husks, her breath hot on your face. “that you just had to hump one of my pillows instead of just asking me to help you out?”

“you would’ve-?” you croak.

“help a pretty girl like you out?” nancy finishes for you. “mhm, yeah. i mean- fuck- have you seen yourself?”

her fingers trace your face gently as she speaks. her lips parted and pink. you’re not even sure who leans in first. all you know is that you’re kissing her, suddenly. her mouth is soft against yours, but demanding and hungry. you keep up, kiss her back like you had always imagined.

“you’re a sight for sore eyes baby. you didn’t have to rub that poor pussy of yours raw against my pillow you could’ve just-“ her free hand drops between your legs and her eyes widen when she feels your arousal, the sensation morphing her voice into a high pitched gasp “asked”

you grab her wrists, without really intending to, you just need her to stay right there. her palm is pressing against your clit just right and you’re so, so close already. your hips jump forward on their own accord, desperately rubbing against her hand. later, you’ll feel embarrassed for how greedy you are, but right now, you really cannot help yourself.

“oh baby” nancy whispers, her hand still in place. she even pushes it upwards the slightest bit, pressing it against your clit while her fingers sink between your folds. “you want it so bad don’t you?”

you’re too far gone to feel embarrassed for the whine you let out. all you can do is nod your head, over and over again.

“shhh” nancy coos, adjusting herself so she’s kneeling in front of you, hand still sitting firmly between your thighs. “you want my fingers baby?”

any other time, you would’ve verbalized all those fantasies you’ve been having. you would’ve asked her to ride her face, or for her to get out one of those toys you keep hidden in the drawer. you picture nancy with one of the dildos strapped to her body, her voice telling you to get on all fours for her. maybe you would’ve begged for her mouth or for her to bend you over your desk and eat you out like that. but for now, with your abdomen still coiling from the ruined orgasm, you know her hands will have to do.

“yeah” you nod, both eyes closed. “yeah please i need it”

“i know” she coos, her voice sending another wave of arousal through you. “i know, i’ve got you”

another thing you learn about nancy wheeler is that her fingers are fucking heavenly. she runs them through your folds, gathers your arousal on her index- and middle finger, and brings it up to your clit. nancy had always been quick to learn the way you like things: she picked up your favorite snacks and dinner within the first couple of weeks, learned how you fold your laundry and sorted your shampoo and body wash in the shower. now, she’s showing off that observation skill once more.

she finds your clit, draws circles around it with a finger and adjusts the pressure and pace until you’re falling forward against her body, panting heavily.

“oh yeah?” nancy says, pleased with herself. “yeah? right there baby?”

you know it won’t take long for you to cum like this, not when you’ve been painfully close the moment she first walked in on you and certainly not when nancy is stroking your clit the way she currently is.

“do you like penetration?” she asks, her voice soft and genuine.

you nod at her weakly, one hand grabbing her by the shoulder to keep her close, bracing yourself for the sensation of her stretching you open.

you moan when she pushes them into you, two at once after making sure you’re wet enough to take it (which you definitely are).

she pumps them into you a couple of times, quickly figuring out a rhythm that works for you and causes her thumb to brush against your clit with each thrust.

the only thing you can offer her is an encouraging nod and the quiet “ah ah ah” sounds that she draws from your lips.

“come on y/n” she pants, pressing her thumb against your clit. “i wanna see you cum. can you do that for me?”

the whine you give her in response briefly resembles a noise of approval but it’s enough for nancy. she picks up the pace of her fingers, her face a reflection of your own: eyebrows drawn together and mouth agape in pleasure.

“that’s it” she praises when she feels your velvet walls flutter around her fingers. “that’s it baby, give it to me, come on”

that, and a couple of rolls of your own hips to ride her fingers, is all it takes for you to stumble over the edge. the knot in your belly finally snaps and, for a moment, there’s only pleasure and the sound of nancy’s name. you hardly even realize it’s you who’s desperately moaning it out like that.

you stumble against her, her fingers still moving against that spot inside you as she wraps her free arm around you and holds you.

your body still trembles with the force of the orgasm when you register nancy’s soothing voice close to your ear.

“i got you, pretty girl” she says softly. “i’m right here baby, you did so good”

“n-nance-“ you finally manage, when the pleasure ebbs and reality comes crashing down on you. you fucked up. you fucked it all up and this is the end of shared dinners and movie nights and the friendship between the two of you and-

“i was wondering when you’d make a move” nancy’s voice snaps you back to reality. “i mean- i guess i wasn’t expecting…that”

“w-what?” you mumble, leaning back to catch her eyes.

“listen” she tells you gently. “i like you, y/n. and, judging by what just happened, i think you like me too? correct me if i’m wrong. but i think once you’re…calmer, i would really like to ask you out on a proper date? if that’s okay?”

your eyes are wide with surprise. this is not what you expected.

“i mean- i- yes!” you finally answer, after staring up at her for what must’ve been way too long.

nancy just chuckles, running her fingers through your hair soothingly.

“okay” she hums.

“okay” you tell her. “does that mean i get to kiss you?”

nancy smiles, happily leaning down to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

#nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler x female reader #nancy wheeler x fem!reader #nancy wheeler x you #nancy wheeler x y/n #nancy wheeler x reader smut #nancy wheeler smut #nancy wheeler fanfiction #nancy wheeler imagine #nancy wheeler fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine

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lvsjuno · 1 month ago

Text

NATIONAL ANTHEM ━ CH. 01

Pairing — BF!Rafe x younger!kook!Fem reader

Navigation — Part 01 | Part 02

principal masterlist ━ story masterlist ━ spanish version

you were sitting on the terrace at his house, your legs crossed over the wooden chair that had always been there, like part of the scenery of your childhood. The ocean breeze caressed your skin, and the setting sun painted the sky with warm hues that reflected on the water. This were your corner of the house, the spot I’d claimed as yours, where you spent every summer afternoon soaking up the sun, snacking, or simply hanging out with friends.

you loved being there, feeling the warmth of the sun heating your body, sometimes accompanied by a gentle summer breeze, just like now. you were absentmindedly playing with the delicate necklace Rafe had given you a few weeks ago. Since the day he clasped it around your neck, you hadn’t taken it off. It felt like a treasure, a constant reminder of how lucky you were to have him in your life.

To you, Rafe wasn’t just your boyfriend; he was your friend, your first love—the one I had fallen for when I was just a kid— your everything. He had this way of looking at you that made the rest of the world fade away, as if you were the only person that mattered. He always knew how to make you feel special.

You closed your eyes, letting the sound of the waves fill your thoughts. Sarah and you had spent the afternoon together, laughing like we always did, swimming in the pool and gossping about people in the island. Oliver had been busy all day, wrapped up in his own responsibilities. He’d been distant this year, his first at university, and now he was determined to put everything he’d learned into practice working with Dad. Still, at the end of the afternoon, he crossed the yard to greet you with a smile, taking a brief break from his tasks before diving back in.

Suddenly, you heard the familiar crunch of footsteps on gravel. opening your eyes for look who was coming, and there he was, Rafe. His white shirt was slightly unbuttoned, his hair tousled by the wind, and he wore that smile that always took my breath away.

“Can I join you?” he asked, climbing the steps as if he needed permission to be near you.

"You always can, don’t need to ask" you replied, watching him approach and waiting for his kiss.

Rafe took a seat next to you, so close that you could feel the warmth of his body. His eyes landed on the necklace you were still holding between your fingers. He gently took it, his large, rough hands brushing against yours, and smiled.

“Looks like you liked the gift”

“I loved it” answered, completely mesmerized by his face, taking in every little detail.

“What were you thinking about? you looked lost in your thoughts” he asked with a mix of curiosity and caution.

You hesitated for a moment, already knowing where this would go. “Sarah wants us to go to the beach party tonight. I thought it might be fun.”

Rafe’s expression tensed slightly. “What party?"

“You know, the one everyone goes to, the tourists, the Pogues…”

“That’s exactly why I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he said, letting go of the necklace and leaning back in his chair. There was a firmness in his tone that you knew all too well.

“It’s just a party, Rafe,” you said softly, leaning toward him. “We’ll go together, Topper will be with us. Nothing will happen.”

He sighed, looking at you with that mix of worry and something you couldn’t quite decipher, but that always unraveled you. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, y/n. I don’t trust them, you know how I feel about this.”

You leaned closer, gently touching his shoulder. “Rafe, I’ll be fine. Besides, it’s been a long time since I’ve gone to a party with Sarah.”

Rafe looked at you for a long moment before nodding with a resigned sigh. “Alright, but promise me you won’t do anything stupid, and if someone steps out of line, you’ll call me.”

You smiled at him, relieved by his answer “I promise. I’ll make it up to you, my love.”

A small smile spread across his lips, erasing any trace of worry in his eyes and revealing a hint of playfulness and complicity. He leaned closer, so much that their noses brushed, teasingly seeking your lips with an intention that was far from innocent.

“Well, if you promise to behave... I might let you enjoy the party a little” he said, his words dripping with a mix of humor and tenderness.

You ooked at him with a mischievous smile. “I always behave.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, giving you a knowing look. “Do you really? Always?” he asked, leaning in slightly, his tone laced with humor. “Because if I recall correctly, the last time you ‘behaved’ didn’t exactly end as you expected…”

Stared at him, the memory of that moment flashing between you two. I could feel the heat creeping into my face, but you tried to keep your composure.

“That was… an exception,” answered with your voice slightly lower, nervous yet amused.

Rafe let out a small laugh, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. He knew exactly how to get you and loved to play with the feelings. Leaning in, as if sharing a secret just between you two, he whispered softly, his breath brushing against your skin.

“An exception I wouldn’t mind repeat anytime” he said.

you chuckled softly, feeling the warmth in your cheeks intensify, but didn't look away from his gaze. You had already gotten used to those jokes between you. It was something you’d come to love—a constant game of teasing and passion that always managed to consume you entirely.

“Leave me alone, Cameron” teased him, enjoying the spark that lit up his eyes.

Rafe chuckled under his breath, planting a quick kiss on your lips before standing up. “I’ll hold you to that, but remember, my love… if I don’t like something, you will have no escape from me"

You watched him as he walked away, feeling your heart race. He always had this way of making you feel like you were playing with fire, and maybe that’s why you could never resist his charm.

He drove you absolutely crazy.

#imagine rafe cameron #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #toxic rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #obx fanfic #obx masterlist #imagine outerbanks #kook #pogues #sarah cameron #dark rafe

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writing-mlm · 1 month ago

Text

Reddit Discovers a Relationship

Summary: Peter is acting strangely following a trip to Asgard and you, naturally, take to Reddit to get opinions from absolute strangers Pairing: Peter Parker x Gn!Reader Wc: 2k tags: readers gender is up to the viewer, mentions of cheating but nothing happens, reader is the adoptive child of Loki, this is formatted like a Reddit post LOL a/n: this came to me in a dream

r/AmItheAsshole 4d ago

throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis

AITA for being upset with my bf for being weird after we visited my family abroad?

Hii! Sorry if formatting and spelling is wrong, I’m on mobile.

So, I (20nb) and my boyfriend (21m) met when we were both around 15, dating since we were 17. If it matters we met through my (adoptive) uncle: they sort of worked together but in the way that you work with Jane from Accounting. It’s a relatively small business so we did eventually cross paths, I don’t want to go into details for privacy's sake, sorry. If it’s confusing I’ll explain in an edit.

EDIT: basically he’s the bosses intern-turned-employee, I’m the weird guy's brother's kid turned employee. He joined at 15, I ‘joined’ at 13, i’ve been there two years longer than him

So, recently I went to visit my dad in our home country for two weeks with my uncle and his maybe gf, naturally my bf, wanted to join. He wasn’t allowed to at first bc the last time we tried something similar to this he kind of died?? I’m not sure if the event is still triggering for people, but it was that global event where the population got… sanded?? EDIT: yes the blimp But after that I get nervous with him traveling around there, I know it’s not normal and he would be perfectly fine. It took a while but I eventually agreed that he could go.

We get there without any hiccups and he sees my country for the first time, i literally have to drag him into my childhood home and let him set up a room. My dad wouldn’t let us sleep in the same room, he went to crazy lengths for that lol. But that was fine, it was only two weeks. Really a week and half. But we have a good time, he meets my old friends, I taught him some traditional cooking and such, we explored for a whole day. I literally took him flower picking and they're in our living room. He spends some time with my folks, some of which I was too busy for, my friends had dragged me out and one time no one woke me up. The last day we spent I literally did not see him at all, like at all. And one of my friends, I’ll call her Vivi, was gone too even though we all said we’d have a group picnic in the garden.

Eventually, we leave back and he’s just… I don’t want to say ignoring me but he’s definitely distant. He’s hiding his phone (not that I check it, it’s just he got a screen blocker thing, he’s leaving it face down, and in the car, he stops all the notifications from coming through the speakers), he’s all sweaty around me, genuinely will not talk about the trip, he keeps asking if I’ve kept in touch with my friends and what they’ve said.

Prior to this. he’d literally shove his phone in my face to show me videos or text his aunt if his hands are busy. I’ve heard his text messages between him and his friends where they talk about embarrassing topics like him peeing his pants bc he was drunk. He’s also not one to really sweat, he’s nervous a lot but it’s never like this.

At work he’s asking to be paired with other people and my uncle keeps staring at him?? they talk in the corner a lot and my uncle cannot whisper for the life of him but he suddenly learned.

I spoke to one of my friends, not the childhood friends but ones I made here, and they think he’s cheating. Idk, we’re never really apart for him to. We live and work together. We commute together. Our friend groups overlap a whole bunch to the point where I only have two friends that aren’t his friends and the same with him. The same friend said he’s always been off, she just never said anything bc I really like him. I’m cutting her off because even if she is right, that’s a weird thing to harbor right?? like if my friend had a shady bf I’d definitely let them know when I felt that. But maybe that’s an American thing, I don’t know.

I asked him about it, I think three times. Each time he gets more nervous and I’ve decided I’m going to be the same way. His boss, who’s really just like a weird older brother or something to me, says I’m being petty and we need to grow up and talk. His wife says she did the same thing to him and the issue ended up being that he was going through major heart problems and she still feels bad about that. But i don’t think he’s having heart issues, our jobs need regular medical checkups and he’s his same healthy self.

Am I going crazy? Should I ask again?

EDIT: he’s 21 and I’m 20 but we met when we were both 15 bc his birthday is earlier than mine is

——

WNDRGRL639 • 3d ago

NTA, i’m sorry sweets but it does sound like he cheated. That day where he was gone with ViVi for the whole day is suspicious, have you talked to her to see what she was doing?

-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

Communication with people back home is difficult. They’re kind of the send a bird to deliver mail type, I can only talk to my dad when he’s in this specific area bc it has signal. It’s a portable device from over here. I don’t want to ask him to ask her because everyone is kind of… fearful of my dad but I don’t think she would do that.

—> Holding_Space

why don’t you think she would?? also NTA

—-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

bc she’s only into women, sorry I forgot to add that detail I was in a rush

JoyfulCalling629 • 4d ago

NTA, it’s frustrating when a partner doesn’t say what’s on their mind but give it time. could it have been something your uncle and dad said? are they too protective?

-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

I wouldn’t put it past my dad but my uncle absolutely adores my bf, like even if we weren’t dating they’d still have the same relationship lol. but from what I noticed my dad does like my bf, he just comes off as scary to basically everyone

—> Daylighthatings

NTA but it sounds like your bf wants to propose!! my wife was the same way leading up to the proposal

—-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

hmm. We’ve spoken about marriage for sure, so I know it’s something on his mind. I’m going to hope it’s that and not any of these crazy ideas lol. I saw someone say he’s planning on leaving me for my dad, that he’s cheating with my uncle, that i’ve probably scared him off bc my country must be scary.

——> Daylighthatings

aw it’s certainly none of those, i’ve read through your other replies and the two of you seem absolutely smitten

fhendnsn79 • 2d ago

YTA, he probably gotten scared by your dad. keeping the two of you separate for two weeks? he has issues. not to mention you kept bringing up him dying! i’d want to break up too probably call the cops too

-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis OP

trust me when I say this, I have your address and I’m sending the IRS bc you have unfiled taxes since 2010 good luck in prison!!!!

—-

r/confessions 2d ago

u/spiderman

I asked my partners dad for the family ring and I’m planning to propose but they think I’m cheating on them

Hii! First time posting, sorry if the formatting is wonky I’m on my phone. Throwaway bc my partner knows my main

Okay, so I (21m) and my partner (20nb), have been together for around 3 years and I knew I wanted to propose to them after they agreed to binge watch all of Star Trek with me even though they hate (and I mean HATE) most alien media because it’s inaccurate. They ended up enjoying it, but that’s not the point.

Recently we visited their dad, after a lot of pestering they agreed to let me go and I was super nervous. It wasn’t my first time meeting their dad, maybe the third time but I was about to ask a man who could kill me in a second if I could get his family ring so I could marry his only child. I tried to tire them out, meeting with friends, taking me across a lot and I mean a lot of hills and such so I could also talk to their best friend alone. I’ll call her Ivvi. So, I didn’t have a lot of time and unfortunately had to spend the last day of the trip with Ivvi and their dad talking about traditional wedding stuff and how to properly propose (i didn’t even know there was a wrong way!!!)

So, with all those expectations I’m super nervous. I have to hide my phone bc their uncle is sending me texts about it and he absolutely does not know how to speak in code. my aunt is the same way and I Don't want them to ruin it. I’m also so close to just blurting out the question so (we work at the same place) I’ve been avoiding them. Their uncle keeps pulling me away to ask when and it’s making me so nervous I can’t even think straight around them anymore.

They’re starting to notice, not start they BEEN noticing but now they’re giving me the cold shoulder. I know this one friend they have, not Ivvi, it’s this one friend they met during college who I CANNOT stand bc she’s fake. They can’t see it because they tend to take things at face value when it comes to Americans because they think we don’t like to lie. I’ve been trying to tell them that it’s not true. But yeah. That friend spoke to one of my friends who asked me if I cheated and i, of course said no, and spilled my whole plan to her because if anyone could help, it would def be her.

But I know that friend planted some evil seed in my partners head and now I have to rush my plans.

I’ll update this after I propose tho!!!!

—

DjMightyThor • 2d ago

I just checked… this is Spiderman’s official Reddit.

Xsavior • 2d ago

SPIDERMAN IS PROPOSING TO NORIDC???

MegannnHorsie • 1d ago

didn’t know they were that serious wow

Spideyfan4EVA • 2d ago

does he know he posted this to his main hopefully Nordic doesn’t see this LMFAOOO

—

r/BestofRedditorUpdates • 1 hr. ago

u/TonyStark

Clearly, I am not Nordic or Spiderman but they’re both too embarrassed to update. You’re welcome.

Original post- Nordic

Original post- Spiderman

Thought I should update the people of Reddit on the kids proposal plans. I was unfortunately not there but I was fortunate enough to hack into the cameras in their apartment to see it. So, I’ll give a sort of play by play.

Spiderman, in the living room with the place decorated in Asgardian stuff, rose petals everywhere and their favorite song in the background. He’s typing the Reddit story because he’s so nervous.

Nordic, coming back from hanging with their friends, enters the apartment. Spiderman posts it without double checking ANYTHING. Chucks his phone into the kitchen sink somehow.

Nordic walks inside and looks at the sink before looking at Spiderman. Ugly cries, a lot of tears. Like a lot. I asked (got permission to post) and apparently some of the items were from their since deceased family, so it was extra emotional. Spiderman, in full fucking Asgardian, asks Nordic to marry them. Oh it’s snotty tears now. Idk wtf he said, and Thor won’t translate, so…

There’s two rings!! The royal one and one from Nordic’s blood family. They kiss and fireworks!!! Joking, that’s a fire hazard. But he does immediately call Thor, who was in the room with Sam. I heard the tears from my office. They hang up and I’ll cut the rest of the footage bc I do not want to bleach my eyes thank you.

—

spiderman • 1 hr. ago

MR STARK YOU DIDNT NEED TO PUT THE LAST PART

-> throwRA-unclepleasedontseethis

or any of this actually why are you in our cameras??

—> TonyStark I made them.

#x male reader #x reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #peter parker x you #peter parker x gn!reader #spiderman x gn!reader

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queenie-ofthe-void · 6 months ago

Text

Tiger Club (part 2)

Steddie || ~1.6k words || rating: M || tags: single-dad steve harrington, teacher eddie munson, teacher chrissy cunningham, eddie and chrissy are best friends, steve harrington is dustin and max's dad, dustin and max are twins, meet cute, humor and fluff

Part 1 || Part 2 (you are here!) || Part 3 || ao3

~~~

Weeks go by, and Eddie always seems to miss Steve’s pick up days. Chrissy’s only seen him a few times, but both her and Eddie have been privileged with the presence of almost every other adult family member in the twins’ lives.

Aunt Robin picks them up most days. She always feigns exasperation at Dustin’s boundless energy and Max’s sassy jokes, but laughs every time they tackle her to the ground. Eddie was surprised to find out she actually lives with the kids and their mysterious father. He considered asking her more about the situation, but decided it wasn’t his business.

However, he did find out from Chrissy that Robin and Steve went to the same high school but ran in different crowds. The two reconnected working at Hawkins Hospital, Robin as an interpreter and Steve as a paramedic. They bonded over a particularly difficult patient who’d come in through Emergency and didn’t want someone like Robin working with him, not realizing– as Robin had joked– that Steve was someone like Robin too.

The more Eddie learns about the duo, the more it reminds him of his relationship with Chrissy. It’s at least a small comfort to know they’re not alone in this backwards town.

Aunt Nancy and Uncle Jonathan are the next most frequent visitors. He learned Nancy is a journalist at the Hawkins Post, but is looking to get hired working remotely at a bigger paper like The Chicago Times or Indianapolis Journal. Jonathan is a free-lance photographer, sometimes working for Nancy or the Post, but mostly shoots weddings and family photos. They seem nice enough, although he once caught Jonathan checking him out in the same way Robin had, glancing between Eddie and his own wife with a smirk on his face.

The nerve of these people checking him out, leaving him flushed and spluttering when they aren’t even interested.

Hell, he even got to meet Dustin and Max’s grandparents before meeting their mysterious and elusive dad.

“Munson,” Jim Hopper, Hawkins Chief of Police, the twins’ adopted grandfather, scowled at him. He looked about the same as the last time Eddie had seen him, maybe a few more greys in his mustache and lines around his eyes. Easier to see the fine details when Eddie’s not cuffed in the backseat making faces at him in the rearview mirror.

Jesus Christ, is he lucky Hopper only ever brought him back home to Wayne for dealing instead of throwing him in a jail cell for the weekend. Eddie was twenty the last time the Chief picked him up, almost a decade ago now. He practically tossed Eddie in the backseat, drove them both out to the quarry, sat him down, handed him a beer, and explained in fine detail the differences between being a juvenile delinquent and an actual felon. Needless to say Eddie quit dealing and decided his calling was more educational.

“Oh Hop, leave the poor boy alone.” The small woman next to them playfully back-hands the Chief’s beer belly to get him to back off. “I’m Joyce, the kids’ grandma. And you must be Mr. Munson! We’ve heard so much about you.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Hopper,” he says, unsure of how to navigate this extremely awkward interaction. The Chief’s stern glare hasn’t left Eddie’s face since he stepped out of the car. “I, uhh, wasn’t aware that you had family, Chief?”

The man grunts, but uncrosses his arms, shoving one hand in his front pocket and wrapping the other around his wife. “Steve’s not my son, but I’ve been looking after that boy since I picked him up for his first speeding ticket. Just a few years before the kids, back when he was dating Nancy.”

“Wait, wait, wait a second,” Eddie interrupts, shocked “Nancy, as in Auntie Nancy and Uncle Jonathan?”

“Jonathan’s my boy,” Joyce answers Eddie’s slack-jawed confusion. “Nancy and Jonathan met just after her and Steve broke up, but they’re all still good friends, obviously.”

“Yeah, obviously.” Eddie zones out a bit, trying to connect the dots in the tangled web of Max and Dustin Harrington’s family life. “Wait, wouldn’t that make Steve my age? And if you raised him–” he points to Hopper accusingly– “then that means he went to school here. With me. So why don’t I know him?”

But Hopper’s already shaking his head. “Kid went to the private school two towns over. Parents have an estate on the opposite side of town from Forest Hills, just barely inside my jurisdiction. I’m not surprised you two didn’t cross paths, he was only ever here for sports, which–” he gestures at Eddie’s everything, and yeah, Eddie gets it. But an estate?

This is the most information he’s been able to dig up so far. He looks back to the playground where Chrissy is still trying to rally the twins’ spilled bags. It’s an opportunity Eddie refuses to pass on.

“And the twins?” He turns back and just catches the end of a silent conversation between the couple, eyeing each other while glancing at Eddie. They stop when they notice him watching, and Hop sighs.

“Dustin and Max came around just after his senior year. The kid was set up for a full-ride to Indy on a swim scholarship his dad paid for. The mom was a girl he met at a party, and he didn’t see her again until she dropped them off on his doorstep. Parents kicked him out, then I took them in. Same week I picked you up for the last time,” Hop adds on with a laugh, like this entire conversation is chock full of cosmic coincidence. “What a hell of a week.”

Eddie tumbles the new information in his head over and over throughout the next few days. He feels himself growing bitter that someone like Steve Harrington exists. Someone who sounds too good to be true. Fake, like the many charming princes and noble knights he’s woven into his campaigns over the years. Except it’s hard to deny when it’s not just the kids, and Auntie Robin, Uncle Jonathan and Aunt Nancy, or hell, even the grandparents.

It’s Chrissy. Every time Chrissy gets to talk to Steve, she raves about him until Eddie starts fake gagging just to get her to stop. She typically rolls her eyes, but he’s sick of hearing about how great this guy is and at this point, he’s not even sure if he wants to meet him. No one’s this great.

“Don’t you think it’s weird,” Eddie rants, like he has been for the past ten minutes, “that he can’t even be bothered to pick up his own children? And it’s like you’ve said, Chris, even when he does pick them up he’s always late! What kind of father is that, really?”

He’s halfway through his second margarita, and he’s lost track of the conversation entirely, not sure how they transitioned from Chrissy’s hinge matches to Steve fucking Harrington. Again.

Chrissy frowns at him, and yeah, he might’ve went a bit too far there. Maybe he’s a little sensitive about topics revolving around bad dads.

“Just because you’re hungry doesn’t mean you get to be a dick, Eddie,” she shoots back, pushing the basket of chips closer to him as they wait for their food. “It’s not my fault you decided to switch to detention yesterday and missed him because you were cold. I told you it was going to be chilly out and you still didn’t wear a jacket.”

“I was wearing a jacket, Chris,” he pouts.

“An actual, warm jacket. Not that threadbare, leather monstrosity you got from Goodwill for ten dollars. Just because you cover the holes with patches doesn’t mean the holes aren’t there.”

He lets out an undignified shriek, but she continues on to the actual conversation, used to ignoring his dramatics. “You know it’s not the same as with your dad, or mine. Steve really is a great guy, even if you refuse to admit it. I think you’re just jealous you haven’t met him yet.”

“Of course I want to meet him,” he snaps back, but Chrissy just grins in response. “I have to listen to everyone talk about how great he is, and I’m just supposed to believe it all on face-value? Honestly, I’m sick of hearing about him, and if we keep talking about this it’s gonna ruin my buzz.”

Eddie refuses to believe a former trust-fund kid who hosted parties at his estate just to act like a fuck-boy actually leveled up to become a loving single father who’s adored by his family and friends, saves literal lives every day, and is one of the only queer people in this god forsaken town.

Not that he spends his free time thinking about a random guy he’s gathered enough general information on to build a well-rounded NPC. A disowned nobleman cast out from his kingdom into squalor. With the help of the lonely prince’s new found family, he redeems himself by serving as Hawkins’ most beloved Paladin.

Again, not that he’s actually building this character for next year’s campaign or anything, it just goes to show how much people won’t stop bragging about this guy, and Eddie’s over it.

“You’d really like him,” Chrissy says, putting an end to his stewing. She’s smiling like maybe she knows something he doesn’t, and it reminds him of the same smiles he’s gotten from Robin and Nanna Joyce.

“Yeah, well I’d actually have to meet him to like him.”

#tags up top #single dad steve #teacher eddie #dustin and max are twins #tiger club #Tiger Club steddie AU #steve harrington #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #eddie and chrissy #jim hopper #joyce byers #queeniewritesstories

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dolliethv · 5 months ago

Text

All Of The Girls You Loved Before.

summary: English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes I'm sorry!! I was thinking while listening to "All of the Girls You Loved Before" by Taylor Swift and decided to make a little story inspired by the lyrics...

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem reader!!

Word count: about 2,1k

You are a fashion design and production student, sitting on the floor in front of your work table, adjusting the final details of a jacket inspired by the colors of the city where you and Jude were now living for work—Madrid. It was just another night, one of many you had spent in your new home, surrounded by fabrics, sketches, and the dim light of an old lamp that matched your overflowing creativity. Jude, your boyfriend, would be arriving after a tiring training session with Real Madrid.

The door opened softly, and Jude appeared with a smile that lit up the entire room. “Hey, baby,” he whispered, collapsing onto the couch with exhaustion written all over his face. You smiled. You loved the way he called you “baby,” as if it was more than just a word, a small refuge in the middle of your hectic lives.

He moved closer and sat beside you. You ran a hand through his damp hair. “How was training?” you asked.

Jude nodded, his eyes scanning the sketches scattered on the table. “Yeah, just exhausting, you know. But seeing you is the best part of my day.”

You rested your head on his shoulder and sighed, recalling all those nights when he would tell you stories of his past. You knew that things hadn’t always been easy for Jude. He had gone through failed relationships, disappointments, and abrupt goodbyes. Sometimes, he would share how he stayed up late arguing on the phone, conversations ending in awkward silences.

Jude had faced criticism and pressure from a young age, not just in football. He remembered moments in Birmingham, when coaches pushed him to his limits and expectations felt like an impossible weight to bear. He had dealt with the disappointment of sitting on the bench when he was eager to prove his worth and with the hurtful comments on social media whenever his performance wasn’t perfect.

There were also times in Dortmund, far from his family and everything he knew, feeling lonely in a foreign city. The tough matches, where his mistakes haunted him for weeks, constant media criticism, and the feeling of not being enough had made him doubt himself more than once. “I remember when I got injured just before one of the most important matches of the season. I sat in the stands, watching my teammates fight while all I could think about was what I could have done differently. It was one of the worst feelings I’ve ever had,” Jude once confessed.

“Those moments made you strong, Jude,” you said, remembering how he had shared his journey of overcoming, learning to accept his failures as part of his path. “All of that taught you to value what you have, to never give up.”

Jude smiled wistfully. “It wasn’t easy, and sometimes I felt like I couldn’t go on. But when I finally played that crucial match, and we did well, all the effort, all those tears, were worth it. They made me see that even in the darkest moments, there’s something worth fighting for.”

You looked at him tenderly. “The way you call me ‘baby’… it makes me feel like all of it was worth it,” you said, gazing into his eyes. There was a strength and sweetness in Jude that could only come from someone who had known adversity and decided to be better, not in spite of you, but because of you.

Jude looked at you with gratitude and stroked your cheek. “I don’t know if it was worth it, but it brought me to you,” he replied, leaning in to kiss you softly.

You smiled against his lips and turned back to your sketches, trying to concentrate, but the lyrics of a song kept resonating in your mind. “Have you ever thought about how all those girls and all those situations made you who you are?” you asked, drawing a loose line that, like your thoughts, wasn’t going anywhere in particular.

Jude pondered for a moment, recalling those days of smudged makeup and tears in club bathrooms, the goodbyes without explanations, and the awkward beginnings. “I never thought of it that way, but… yeah, I guess all of that brought me here. And now you’re all I need,” he said, taking your free hand.

“And I’m so grateful for that,” you responded. “Every dead end, every mistake… all of it brought you to me.”

Jude smiled and pulled you into his arms. “And you’re the only one who makes it all feel worth it.”

You snuggled into his chest, letting the warmth of the moment wrap around you. You knew that, although neither of you had a perfect past, everything had been a piece of that complex puzzle that had led you to find each other. You wanted to be the one to show him what “forever” feels like.

Jude, trying to distract you from your concentration, started joking. “You know, darling? If you were a fashion design, you’d be haute couture… because no one else could pull it off like you.” You looked at him, pretending to be surprised.

“Wow, Jude! Did you read that in a cheap pick-up line book?” you teased, holding back laughter. “You could use those tricks on the field to throw off your rivals.”

Jude pretended to think for a second. “Do you think that would work? Because it doesn’t seem to have any effect on you. Although maybe I just need a little more practice… with you,” he said, raising an eyebrow provocatively.

You looked at him, trying to keep a straight face. “You? Practice? I think you’ve got more than enough natural talent,” you joked, enjoying the playful banter between you. But Jude didn’t miss the chance, and with an intense look, he added, “Well, if you want, I can show you my ‘natural talent’ up close in a more private place and...”

“Jude!” you looked at him with a mix of amusement and embarrassment. “You can’t just say things like that so casually, you know?”

“Why not? I’m dead serious,” Jude replied with a cheeky smile, getting even closer, kissing your neck affectionately and caressing your stomach.

You gently pushed him away, trying to keep control, though you couldn’t help but laugh. “You know you’re a gentleman most of the time, but sometimes you go overboard.”

Jude pretended to be offended. “It’s ‘natural talent,’ baby. Besides, I’m just trying to be charming,” he said, striking an exaggeratedly elegant pose as if he were in a Louis Vuitton photoshoot or something.

“Well, at least you’re a good actor,” you responded, laughing. “But I’ll stick with the footballer.”

You cherished those light-hearted moments with Jude; it was one of the many reasons you adored him. But what you loved most about him was his chivalry, something that never ceased to amaze you. From day one, Jude had always treated you like a lady; he’d open the car door, hold your hand when crossing the street, and always made sure you felt protected and appreciated.

“Do you know what I love most about you?” you began, resting your head on his shoulder and smiling sweetly. “How much of a gentleman you are. You always treat me like a lady,” you said, squeezing his cheeks playfully. “That’s what I love most about you.”

Jude looked at you with a playful smile. “Well, what did you expect? You’re my princess. I’ve got to live up to that.”

You laughed, giving him a gentle tap on the arm. “How cutie! Who would have thought, a Real Madrid player who’s so dominant with an impressive aura in every match is a total sassy with his girlfriend.”

Jude shrugged and hugged you tighter. “You know I’d do anything for you, even be cheesier if it makes you happy.”

“That’s why I love you,” you said, kissing his cheek. “All of the girls you loved before, made you the one I've fallen for”

“And all the experiences you had made you the woman I love today,” Jude responded, kissing you with a softness that spoke of promises, of a future together, and of everything you both had to go through to reach this point.

The two of you stayed in silence, savoring the simple beauty of being together, knowing that every step you had taken in your lives, good and bad, had led you to this precise moment, in this little corner of the world where everything fit.

Because, in the end, every mistake, every lost love, and every broken dream had been a necessary part of the journey that had brought you here, one in the arms of the other, loving each other more than you ever could have imagined.

"I'm so thankful for all of the girls you loved before, but I love you more..."

#Spotify #jude bellingham #bellingham latest #bellingham x reader #jude bellingham stories #jude bellingham fic #jude x fem reader #jude bellingham fanfiction #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fluff #jb5 #jb5 x reader #real madrid

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nicromancytarot · 11 months ago

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HOW I GOT STARTED IN TAROT AND MY TIPS FOR ANY OF YOU WHO ARE NEW TO IT!!!

I love to offer advice if you can’t already tell, and I also love tarot, so let’s talk about things that I have learnt from my journey as a tarot reader.

My journey

I started tarot at 14 years old while living with a family member who was shut off to the idea of spirituality, as it had hindered the life of my own mother, and caused her mental health issues in the past.

I decided to go against their requests and start practicing in secret, I didn’t have my own income so I wasn’t able to buy my own deck, instead I decided to make one. (Tarot is a tool, you don’t need “actual” tarot cards to be able to read.)

I used old train tickets that I had since I would take a couple of trains 5 days a week, which would give me 1, if not 2 tickets per day.

I was mainly focused on love, so I created little tarot cards with small details about love on them, and I would use these on my friends just for a bit of fun.

Eventually these got taken away from me, so just after my 16th birthday, after not doing tarot for around 3 months at that time, I decided to buy my first tarot deck as I was now living back with my mother, and although she was sceptical about the idea, she allowed me to have my first deck and supported my journey as I dove deeper into divination.

I practiced every so often, one time I had a crush on this guy and I wanted to know how he felt about me, every spread I got for him would give me the 4 of cups… yeah, I used to think that meant he was just a little demotivated, until I realised like a year later that it meant he was absolutely not interested in me, lmao!

But this is good, learning always comes with mistakes, so do not let that discourage you.

My decks

- the Rider-Waite tarot (my main deck)

- Spirit song tarot (my favourite deck)

- (I had a purple one that I spiritually didn’t need, so it went missing and never returned like a week after I got it)

- Ethereal visions tarot

- The nightmare before christmas tarot

- Angels of abundance oracle

- Casanova tarot (for 18+)

I also use little pieces of paper that I wrote 18+ stuff on, which I now use for any explicit readings to highlight the things someone would do to my collective sexually!

Having multiple decks

I personally love having this many decks, and I 100% will be getting more, as soon as I’ve finished learning the meanings of some of the casanova tarot!

Tarot is a tool, sometimes I read explicit stuff off my main deck, and I still get very accurate messages using that, you do not need to splash out on extra decks to try and read one specific theme.

I enjoy having multiple decks as they’re all just so beautiful, and I feel blessed to be able to have them.

Having one of my decks fall off the face of the earth a year and a half ago, proved to me that I needed to really make sure that I wanted a deck and felt connected to it before buying. This deck itself was 1 actually instinctively didn’t want to buy, but went back to get for other reasons.

So don’t impulsively buy, if it’s meant for you, you’ll know.

How I do my readings

If I decide that I need to cleanse my own energy, I will do a 15-30 minute meditation, but I normally only feel called to do so when I’m doing a really intense reading that I feel I need to protect my energy from.

I start off with a simple affirmation, welcome my spirits to help guide me through the session.

“I am calling upon my ancestors and spirit guides to make sure I am protected during this reading, and that I get the most accurate and concise messages.”

Then I knock on the deck twice before doing 1 shuffle thrice, knocking twice and doing the final shuffle thrice, knocking twice.

That is my own personal way of cleansing my deck after other energies have been channelled through it. I let my decks rest with some crystals every night, and they see the moon when it’s full for an extra cleanse.

I personally find the knocking to be very simple and cleansing for my cards, and it has proved well.

After I’m done cleaning, I ask my spirits the question out loud, and then I knock twice before shuffling to get the spread.

I only take 1-2 cards at a time, if there’s more, I put them back and start shuffling again.

If no cards fall after a while, I do a final shuffle and pull from the top.

The spread varies for every reading, normally I pull around 15 cards from my main deck, and then I pull an animal from the Spirit song tarot deck, and sometimes around 12 from another deck if there’s anymore questions needing to be answered.

When reading for other people, I personally only pull upright, unless we’re doing yes or no questions (which I do upright for yes and reverse for no), I’m not a fan for reverses, although I’ve started off with them, I just find it easier to do only uprights.

I pull reverses for educational purposes when I do my own readings, that way I can make sure I learn them more than I already do, and so I can get quicker with identifying them.

As of the beginning of April 2024 I started a new spread, this is my new favourite one for mainly advice readings or something to do with the future.

I like to grab 16 cards, you can take 15, but 16 is my personal number, then I line all the cards up into 3 groups, until I pin the negative cards, this is just something I do instinctively (doesn’t have to be death, tower etc, it could literally be the 2 of cups which seems negative in the reading), on the left I set up the negative ones, and then I add a present feeling or reaction card to do with these negative things, then between the negative and feelings, I put a card to describe why the person feels like that. Then for the rest I basically branch down like the roots of a tree, it’s very sporadic and random, but it creates a story, whichever card is next to another relates to the situation, thoughts and feelings of those cards, then when you get to the right bottom side, you end up with the future energy.

LEFT —> past MIDDLE —> present RIGHT —> future

Random things that I believe in

- The star and the 4 of cups are connected, the 4 of cups represents being fussy and ungrateful, and in the the Rider-Waite tarot, the illustrations are all connected, the star happens in front of the tree which is where the 4 of cups is set, so I like to think that the star is letting go of fussiness and allowing yourself to be free.

- Death and moon are connected, death tends to talk about something you need to let go of, and you already intuitively know about it. This is since death happens in front of the moon.

- The temperance happens in front of the tower, so when you pull the temperance, it means to make a decision before the universe makes it for you, bringing you a tower moment. A good example for this is pulling it in a “how does he feel about me” reading, if you get the tower during this, I would say he feels like you’re his last option, like a plan B if his A falls through. (People hate when I tell them that.)

- The queen of cups represents stability, this is since in the the Rider-Waite tarot, she’s chilling on her throne on a small island, meanwhile the king of cups is floating in the water, showing to me that he’s just going with the flow (weirdly, when I see the king of cups, I associate him with Aquarius energy.)

- The empress is all about loud and proud energy, she’s totally the one to boast about her achievements and what she’s working on, knowing that she will succeed. The emperor is the opposite, he works in silence, he only tells everyone about his newest achievements after he’s sure about them, he likes for people to be in surprise over his success.

- If I pull some cards to check energy for the reading, and the emperor upright, or the empress in reverse comes out, probably means the person I’m reading for isn’t ready to hear this message. This is because the emperor is physical (3D) realm energy, meanwhile the empress is spiritual (4D) energy, this is because spirituality is feminine energy, if you take part in spirituality, you are tapping into your devine feminine.

- The knight of wands represents exes. The night is going to the left (the past), the wand represents fire, fiery passion/fiery ending.

Does this mean my spread may be explained differently if the illustrations are different?

In short, yes. I love symbolism with my whole heart, so when I can make something symbolic out of the illustrations on the deck to describe a reading, I absolutely will.

What does channelling and visualising look like for me?

On a good day, I’ll hear another voice that sound identical to my little internal narrator inside my head, this can be identified as my spirit guides. They will use this to tell me things I need to know, but clairvoyance isn’t really my strongest, so normally I just hear the word “catapult” over and over again, since my main spirit guide seems to love that word.

I honestly channel the most through writing, it’s like I gain so much more information when I start writing down readings, whether it’s in my notes, on tumblr, or in a notepad.

Visualising is interesting, again back with the symbolism, it comes to me in a little story for me to unfold and find a moral of, it’s very time consuming, and I often get confused and think I’m insane, so I’ll pull some cards on it just to be sure I have the story right.

Important notes

- communicate to your spirit guides, I like to tell them exactly how the reading is going to go, just so they understand the format and what, I am looking for.

- Don’t do readings when you don’t feel like you should, if you’re mentally not doing ok, don’t feel bad if you need to step back and away from it, forcing yourself will just give you confusing readings.

- Your spirits hide answers from you, one time I asked my spirit guides how life works, and they refused to tell me (and then had a silly moment and told me like 3 months later for whatever reason.)

- This is not future telling, I cannot tell you what your future will be like, but I can tell you what it might be like if you make certain decisions.

- Don’t use tarot to intrude on someone’s personal life, like no sex readings on your ex for the love of God.

- If a reading doesn’t resonate with you, remember what it said and then come back to it to see if it does now, an example of this was when someone gave me a past life reading that didn’t match up until I reversed it and realised that I was the second person in the reading, rather than the main.

- Have fun with readings, it shouldn’t feel like a chore.

- Allow yourself to make mistakes, that’s the only way you will improve.

- Be patient, don’t think you will know everything about tarot after like 1 week of learning it.

- There’s always more to learn when it comes to tarot, you will never have enough knowledge.

- You can buy yourself decks, even your first one. You don’t need to have another person buy it for you.

I hope you enjoyed this! It took me an hour to write up lmao, but I had fun.

#pick a card #tarot #tarot reading #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #free tarot #tarot witch #daily tarot #pick a pile #tarot cards

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hyperfixatedonthisnow · 2 years ago

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Siren's call

*not my GIF I know, I know, I suck at titles, but I’ve come to accept this about myself and therefore so must you! Summary: A Siren and a privateer fall in love, but how will he react when he finally learns what she is? Requested by: Anonymous - Sturmhond/Nikolai finds out his girlfriend is a siren. How will that go? - Dearest anon, I am *so* sorry that this took me so long to put out. I fell down a bit of a rabbit hole researching Sirens and found your request so interesting that I honestly could have written much more. I started out with Sturmhond, then switched to Nikolai after reader learns his real name, and I went with Sirens as shape-shifting mermaids, rather than the Greek version of bird like creatures, mostly because it was easier to write in but also because birds freak me out a bit tbh, I’m hoping you don’t mind. Also there’s smut at the end, but if you don’t like that then feel free to stop reading when the kissing starts 😉 I realized way too late that I probably should have asked you for more details 🤦‍♀️ So I can only hope that this is something close to what you wanted! Word count: 7.5K ish - because much like our favorite prince/privateer, I prefer to use several words when one will do 😅

Warnings: NSFW - 18+ only. Mild peril, mild angst, a touch of fluff, minor OC’s who exist only to further the (minimal) plot, a very brief mention of non-con (but not with Nikolai), smut, fem!reader, P in V sex, semi-rough sex, marking, unprotected sex (not recommended in real life!)

You had been following the ship closely for weeks, watching the crew, learning their habits, and charting their course to figure out the best time to take them. Amalia preferred to wait until they were close to land, though it was easier and safer to simply lure them into open water out at sea. She liked the challenge, but more than that, she liked to be the last thing the men saw before they died. It made her feel powerful- to know how much they wanted her and could never have her.

If it was up to you, you would wait until nightfall and sing from a distance, letting your enchanting lullaby guide the men from their beds straight into a watery grave. You didn’t take pleasure in their deaths, even if you knew it was necessary. Unnatural your sisters teased, for a Siren to have such a soft heart. Amalia never joined in with the teasing, though you knew she didn’t really understand you either. Still, she indulged you by allowing you to act as scout, and that meant you could mostly narrow down the targets to pirates and slavers, offering the fishermen and other sailors some small semblance of protection.

Whenever possible, you would scout several ships at a time, so that you could choose the one you wanted and hopefully sway Amalia towards it when you returned to discuss your findings. Unfortunately, only one ship had passed through your waters in almost a month, and although you felt it was worth saving, there was no second option.

When you met with Amalia, you thought carefully about what you had found before you spoke, deciding on the major details you should share with her and filtering out your own more personal observations.

At first glance, it had seemed like a Pirate ship, but further investigation proved that it was not. The crew was an eclectic mix of men, women, and Grisha, of various ages and races. The captain - who went by the name Sturmhond and insisted he was not a pirate, but a privateer - was young, barely out of boyhood, and yet it was clear that he commanded their respect.

He ran a tight ship, but he always treated his crew warmly and he worked alongside them often, doing his fair share of the hard work. He was rarely angry and never cruel, as far as you could tell. At night the crew would gather on the deck to drink and play cards, and he usually joined them. He didn’t seem to think himself above their company as some captains would. You watched him dance and laugh along with the others, and when he lost at cards, he always took it in good humour.

In the conversations you had overheard, the captain’s responses were measured and kind, free from judgment or scorn. Although they carried an impressive arsenal of weapons, you had witnessed no violence from him, nor any of his crew. No prisoners taken, no poor souls forced to walk the plank, no slaves bound in the hull of his ship.

He spent most of his hours working on some flying contraption and after several failed tests, you saw his joy when it actually worked. He was a good man, you had concluded. Intelligent and funny, and handsome, too. You tried to imagine Amalia’s face if you admitted that last bit out loud - she would probably think you had taken leave of your senses completely.

You bit your lip, wondering how you could persuade her to spare them, to spare him.

“Actually, I was thinking… maybe we should… let this one go,” you suggested tentatively. Might as well just be direct.

Amalia stared at you as though you had grown an extra head. “Let them go?” She said after a moment, her nose scrunching in disgust. “You think these men should live?”

“They aren’t just men,” you rushed, trying to justify yourself. “There are women on the crew, and Grisha too.”

“And?” Amalia prompted.

“And, they don’t deserve to be punished for the sins of men,” you argued, “they’re innocent.”

Amalia rolled her eyes, “They’ve chosen to take up with a pirate, have they not?”

“Privateer,” you corrected, but the moment the word was out you wished you could call it back.

Amalia narrowed her eyes suspiciously at you. “Privateer?” She echoed.

“Yes?” You squeaked, and it sounded more like a question than an answer. You cleared your throat. “Yes. He’s not a pirate, he’s a privateer, and he’s a good man, Amalia. I’ve seen it.”

Amalia laughed, “There is no such thing as a good man,” she muttered, “They are all the same. Weak-minded, arrogant, selfish creatures. They live only for violence and destruction.”

“Not him,” you said firmly. “He’s not like the others.”

“He’s exactly like the others,” she snapped, “If you gave him the chance, he would kill you without a second thought.”

“No,” you argued, “You’re wrong about him. He’s smart and kind, and good. I swear it.”

She studied you for a long moment and you tried not to fidget under her disapproving gaze. Your cheeks felt hot, and you knew you were probably blushing.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve gone and fallen in love with him!” She exclaimed finally.

You said nothing, but your silence was answer enough. You looked away, pressing your lips together. It was out there now, no point in trying to deny it.

“Foolish girl,” Amalia said, shaking her head. “There is no future for you with him, surely you must see that?”

“Of course I do,” you whispered, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill over. “But I won’t watch him die Amalia. Not this one. I can’t.”

Amalia sighed, and then she surprised you by pulling you in to a tight hug.

“Please,” you begged, voice breaking.

“There’s a storm coming,” she murmured into your hair, “I suppose we could wait it out.”

“We could?” You questioned hopefully.

“If they can survive it, on their own, then we will leave them be. That’s the best I can do.”

Relief flooded through you, and you hugged Amalia tighter. “Thank you!” You cried.

She pulled back to look at you, her expression troubled. “I know you don’t want to believe it, but men are dangerous. All men. Even your privateer,” she said seriously, hands gripping your shoulders, “So if I do this, if I let him live, it is on the condition that you agree to stay away from him. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation. You would do anything to protect him.

“You must never see him again. Not ever. Promise me,” she insisted.

“I promise,” you said, the words bitter on your tongue.

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The sea was rough, waves cresting 30ft high only to crash back down, as loud as thunder. You watched as the ship rose and fell along with them. You weren’t supposed to be here, had promised to stay away, but you couldn’t help yourself. You had to know that he would be ok. Amalia had agreed to wait until the storm had passed, but if the ship ran aground her small act of mercy wouldn’t matter.

You moved closer, letting the current sweep you towards the ship. It had to be taking on water, but so far, the crew seemed to be holding on. Once you were close enough, you watched them carefully. The Grisha who usually guided their sails spread his arms wide, fighting a losing battle against the ferocious winds. He was just a boy, and not nearly powerful enough to tame such a storm alone. A woman jumped from the lookout, rolling across the deck, and landing gracefully on her feet beside a tall man with similar features. They moved to secure the main sail, working in perfect tandem. A man in a teal coat ran from post to post, tightening the rigging and testing the knots before making his way to the helm to take the wheel. Sturmhond. His hair was plastered to his face, his clothes soaking wet. He took the wheel with both hands, pulling hard to the left, and though his expression was determined, you could sense his growing desperation.

The ship slowly began to turn, forcing the bow away from the storm. Trying to outrun it. For a moment it looked as though his plan might actually work, but then suddenly the ship listed dangerously starboard. Sturmhond struggled to right it, but it was too late. A wave crashed over the now tilted masts, snapping them clean away with a force that rolled the entire ship on to its side. It bobbed precariously for half a second, sailors clinging to the railings, before another wave hit, cracking the hull. If they weren’t taking on water before, they certainly were now. Finally, a voice called out, “ABANDON SHIP!” and the crew began leaping into the sea, frantically trying to escape the wreckage before it capsized completely.

Your eyes scanned the chaos, looking for Sturmhond. You found him clambering up one side of the railing, the ship already beginning to sink beneath his feet. He was looking around, searching for something. Checking all his crew had managed to get out. And then you saw it, at the same time he did - the Grisha crewman, hanging upside down, tangled in the remains of the rigging. The boy struggled, desperately trying to free himself, but he was stuck. Jump, you urged the privateer silently, leave him, but you already knew he wouldn’t. He turned away from the water and began climbing towards his crew mate instead. Stupid. He would never make it in time. The ship was sinking rapidly. In just a few precious seconds it would go under, and when it did, anyone still on it would be pulled under along with it.

You wanted to help him, but you knew you shouldn’t. You thought of your promise to Amalia. She would be furious if she found out you were here, even more so if you interfered. You hesitated, still watching from a safe distance as Sturmhond reached the Grisha with barely a moment to spare. He tugged a knife from his boot and cut the boy free, allowing him to drop safely into the water beneath them. The boy didn’t wait for his captain, he immediately began swimming away from the wreckage. But before Sturmhond could follow, another huge wave swept over the ship, dragging it - and him - underwater, just as you had predicted. He was going to drown.

You made a split-second decision, diving under the water to search for him. The weight of the sinking ship acted like a vacuum, sucking everything downward to the sea floor. You followed it down, but you couldn’t see him anywhere. Panic clawed at your chest. Had he made it to the surface by himself? You turned, ready to go back up, when a flash of teal and gold below you caught your eye. There. You dove back down, looping your arms under his and hauling him against you. He was limp, a heavy weight in your arms. You held him tight, swimming away from the wreckage and towards the surface as fast as you could.

When you reached the surface, you pulled him above the water line, working hard to keep you both afloat. His head lolled back on your shoulder and his eyes were closed. You weren’t sure if he was breathing, and you felt panic building again. You tried to ignore it as you headed for the shore, where you shifted quickly into human form. Once you had dragged him onto the wet sand, you laid him on his back and pressed your ear to his chest. There was no sound, no movement that suggested breathing. Maybe he swallowed too much water?

You turned his head to the side and then placed your hands over his stomach and pushed upwards, hard. Was that the right thing to do? You weren’t sure, but you thought you had seen it done before, once… maybe. Nothing happened. You tried again, and again… and again. Were you doing it wrong … or were you just too late? But then, suddenly, he was coughing up a lungful of water and gasping for breath as he came round. After a few moments he blinked his eyes open, finding you still leaning over him.

“Am I dead?” He mumbled.

“No,” you assured him. Thank the sea goddess! Overcome with emotion, you flung yourself at him, sobbing in relief. His arms closed around you hesitantly, though he surely thought you were insane - a perfect stranger, crying over him and hugging him without invitation.

The storm was over and the sea eerily still by the time the rest of his crew managed to make it to shore. You had calmed yourself, and Sturmhond was sitting up, chatting amiably with you, as if he hadn’t almost died mere minutes earlier. You learned that he had another ship, the Volkvolny, and he cheerfully informed you that really, the storm had done him a favour, because he hadn’t liked the other one all that much anyway. It was nothing short of a miracle that everyone had survived the wreckage with only minimal injuries, and that put them all in a remarkably good mood considering the circumstances. Sturmhond introduced you to the crew, and casually insisted you join them at the local tavern, to dry off and have a strong drink, or two.

As you got to your feet, you caught sight of Amalia at the far side of the shore. Too far away to really make out her features, but you could imagine the look of disappointment on her face. You had broken the promise you made her, and worse than that, here you were walking and talking with humans as though you were old friends. To top it all off, you had committed a cardinal sin amongst Sirens - you had saved a man’s life. You had chosen a man over your sisters, and no matter how much Amalia loved you, this was the one thing she could not forgive.

At the tavern, you quickly discovered that Sturmhond and his crew were a lively, friendly bunch. You were treated as the guest of honour since you had saved the captain’s life, and they welcomed you with open arms. So, when they planned to move to the Volkvolny, and asked if you wanted to come along, you agreed to go with them.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was far easier than you would have expected for you to adjust to your new life aboard the Volkvolny. You found that you had watched enough Sailors over the years to pick up some of the basics and luckily you hit it off with Tamar, who quickly took you under her wing, teaching you the more advanced skills. You listened to endless hours of poetry readings from Tolya, and in exchange he offered to teach you how to fight. In fact, most of the crew accepted you readily. In truth, a lot of the men had just been so enthralled by your ethereal beauty that they were half in love with you at first sight, and the fact that you had saved their captain’s life had been enough to endear you to the rest.

All except for one woman, a young Grisha heartrender named Laila who seemed set on hating you no matter how hard you tried to befriend her. Tamar said it was jealousy - Laila wanted to be the captains favourite but he had never shown any interest in her, and now with you around, he likely never would. You tried not to let it bother you, but you were worried that she might sense something was different about you and early one morning she confirmed your fears when she cornered you in the galley, pushing you up against the wall.

“I’m on to you,” she hissed, “you’re hiding something and I’m going to figure out what it is.”

You played it cool, pretending you had no idea what she meant, and though you briefly considered throwing her overboard, you ultimately decided it was too risky. Instead, you did your best to avoid her at all times, at least as much as you could avoid someone living in such close proximity, and you became an expert at hiding in plain sight.

The bond you had formed with Sturmhond as a result of saving his life grew into a fully-fledged friendship, and then, into something sweeter. Over time, you found yourself sharing his bed as well as his company, and once he trusted you enough to reveal his true identity - Nikolai Lantsov, royal spare to the Ravkan throne - you were moved into the captain’s quarters permanently.

You missed Amalia and being on the sea everyday but never in it, was its own special kind of torture, but you had made your choice and you would do it all over again in a heartbeat. You would choose him, always, whatever the cost. So, you vowed never to use your power again, if it only meant you could keep this new life, if it meant you could keep him. But of course, nothing was ever that simple.

You had been on the Volkvolny for almost a year when it finally happened…

The crew were gathered in a loose circle on the lower deck, chatting and sharing several bottles of liquor, relaxing after a long day. You followed Nikolai down the steps to join them and when he took the only empty seat, you didn’t hesitate to drop yourself into his lap. A chorus of wolf whistles and hooting erupted from the crew around you.

“Perverts,” you muttered, giving them the middle finger and they all laughed.

Nikolai looped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You leaned against him, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, content to just be close to him while the crew drank and talked around you. You joined the conversation only when spoken to directly and luckily no one noticed your contemplative mood, as they all got steadily drunker and rowdier as the night went on. At some point, someone started singing a sea shanty and one by one the rest of the crew joined in, happy and loud, and painfully off-key. You smiled and clapped along, but otherwise stayed quiet. Laila was watching you carefully from across the circle.

“You’re not singing,” she said suddenly, and you were sure you weren’t imagining the accusation in her tone.

“Oh, no one wants to hear my singing,” you laughed nervously, waving her off, “honestly I’m terrible.”

She narrowed her eyes at you. “You can’t be that bad. Come on, just sing a few lines,” she pushed.

You shifted uncomfortably on Nikolai’s lap. His hand tightened on your waist, and you knew he was listening. You struggled to think of another excuse. “I- umm…”

“Leave her alone,” Tamar interjected, and you flashed her a grateful smile for coming to your rescue. “She doesn’t have to sing if she doesn’t want to.”

“But she never wants to sing,” Laila muttered petulantly, “don’t you think that’s odd?”

“What’s odd is you insisting she does,” Nikolai said, an unmistakable edge to his voice. “Let it go Laila.”

Laila flushed at the reprimand. She reluctantly fell silent again, but she was glaring at the drink in her hands, her expression murderous. Silence stretched awkwardly for a few seconds, until Tolya thankfully broke it by producing a deck of cards and starting a game.

You declined to play, and as the cards were dealt you turned your attention away. Through the gaps in the railings, you could see the miles of deep blue sea that stretched all the way to the horizon, and you felt a familiar pull, calling you home. You closed your eyes as you inhaled deeply, letting the salty air fill your lungs. Home. You would never be truly at home here, on this ship, and that thought filled you with sadness. You thought of Amalia, and you wondered if she missed you, the way that you missed her.

You were pulled from your reverie by Nikolai shifting beneath you. He leaned over you to throw his cards down on the table, declaring he was bowing out of the game and then he sat back, pulling you further into his lap.

“Everything alright, my love?” He asked quietly, his lips brushing your ear. You pushed away your melancholy, turning your head so you could look at him.

“Yes,” you murmured, and you meant it. You wanted to be here, with him, no matter how much you might miss home.

“Thinking about how absurdly handsome I am?” He waggled his eyebrows at you, and you laughed.

“No, but I was thinking about you,” you admitted, “about how I ended up here.”

“Ah, so you’re thinking about the time you saved my life then. No wonder you looked so serious.”

“Which time?” You mused, teasing him, “There are so many, I think I’ve lost count.”

Nikolai gasped, all faux outrage. “Once.” He insisted, “It was one time.”

“If you say so,” you smiled indulgently as he leaned in to kiss you, slow and deep, his hand cupping your jaw. The whistling and jeering immediately started up again. You pulled away, rolling your eyes at the crew’s antics.

Nikolai sighed. “For Saints sake,” he grumbled, but he sounded more fond than angry.

When you looked up, Laila was glaring at you. She fixed a smile on her face as you met her gaze, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I’ve been thinking,” She said loudly, gaining everyone’s attention, “what exactly happened, the night you joined us? We’ve never heard your side of the story.”

Had she figured it out? You tried to keep your expression as neutral as possible, but you had stared at her for a beat too long, and now everyone was looking at you, waiting for your answer.

“There’s really not much to tell,” you said carefully.

“Don’t be so modest,” Laila said, her smile sharp, “you saved the Captain’s life after all, and I want to hear every detail.”

Your heart pounded. You should have pushed her overboard when you had the chance. As you tried to come up with a plausible story, the ship was suddenly engulfed in a thick fog.

After that, everything happened so quickly that you barely understood it. One moment you were sailing in open water, the night clear and still, and the next, you were dodging gunfire in near blindness, as men appeared from nowhere and swarmed the ship. The crew fought valiantly, but you were outnumbered and outmatched by a pair of the most powerful Grisha you had ever encountered. You had heard rumours about the drug jurda parem, and now it seemed you were seeing it’s effects first hand. All around you was chaos and you couldn’t keep track of anything. Before long, most of your crew were injured and eventually, all of them captured.

The fog dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, and then there was Nikolai - bleeding, gagged and bound - forced to his knees on the deck of his own ship.

A man grabbed you from behind, holding you against his body with an arm around your waist and a hand twisting painfully in your hair. Nikolai tried to call out as he caught sight of you and your captors laughed.

“Looks like we’ve found the captain’s whore,” one of the men chuckled.

The one holding you ran his hand up from your waist to roughly grab at your breast. You held perfectly still, you weren’t going to give these animals the satisfaction of a reaction, but Nikolai struggled against his bonds, and the man standing over him backhanded him hard across the face. He swayed on his knees, the force of the blow almost knocking him over, and blood trickled from the fresh wound at his temple. The men began talking amongst themselves, loudly detailing all the disgusting things they would enjoy doing to you later.

“Don’t worry,” Nikolai’s captor taunted him, “we’ll let you watch.”

Nikolai struggled again, cold rage clear in his eyes as the men laughed. For a brief moment, he managed to get to his feet, but that only gave his captor an excuse to hit him again, and again, until he slumped to the floor, and when you screamed in protest, the men laughed harder, enjoying your misery.

These men were going to die today, you decided, and you would not show them the mercy of a quick death.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and started to sing. At first the men only looked at each other in confusion, but as your melody continued, they gradually fell under your spell, their eyes glazing over. You tried your best to focus only on them, but it wasn’t an exact science, so your crew also felt the effects. Conveniently, they were all bound and so had little chance of hurting themselves.

You concentrated on the Grisha first since they were the biggest threat, followed by the rest of the men. At your instruction, they turned as one, and forming an orderly line, walked to the side of the ship before binding their own hands and feet together. Then they clambered up onto the railing, and one by one, threw themselves into the water, like lemmings leaping off a cliff. You saved the man who had smacked Nikolai for last, and before he jumped, had him stab himself with his own blade several times, just for good measure.

Once the last man entered the water, you stood at the railing, feeling a perverse sense of satisfaction as you watched them trying, and failing, to fight against their bonds in an effort to return to you. You watched each one slowly begin to sink beneath the water, and only once you were sure there would be no chance that any of them might survive, did you stop singing and move away. When it was done, you set about releasing your crew from their bindings and tending to their wounds as best you could. They were groggy from the after-effects of your song, and it took some hours for everyone to fully come around. No one could really remember what had happened, and you pretended not to know either. You could only cross your fingers and hope that no one realized the truth of what you had done.

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Nikolai was quiet in the aftermath, and though he put up a good front for the rest of the crew, you could tell he was shaken by what had happened. Once everyone was attended to, he announced he was going to his office and he took your hand, pulling you along with him. You followed him to the captain’s quarters in silence.

He let you enter first and you heard the soft click of the lock as he closed the door behind him. You perched yourself on the edge of his desk as you waited for him, but when he turned, he leaned back against the door instead of coming closer. His face was set, his eyes hard, and you knew that he had finally figured out your secret. Honestly, you were surprised it had taken him this long, you had always known it was only a matter of time. You watched him carefully, but you said nothing, waiting for him to speak first.

“You’re a Siren,” he said finally.

You nodded your head in answer, even though he hadn’t phrased it as a question. He stared at you for a long moment, and you could almost hear the cogs turning in his mind, mulling over the many questions he must have. Eventually he seemed to settle on one.

“How many innocent men have you killed?” He asked.

“Innocent?” You huffed, “None.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, “But you have lured men to their deaths, haven’t you?”

“I have.” You conceded. He knew what you were now, there was no reason to lie.

“So? How many?” He pressed. “You must have some idea.” He crossed his arms over his chest, closing himself off to you.

“I didn’t exactly keep a tally,” you muttered.

“Tell me,” He demanded, “Dozens? Hundreds? Thousands?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, suddenly unable to meet his gaze, “I can’t remember them all.”

“Those men had lives and families,” he said, outraged, “they were someone’s father, brother, son, and you don’t even remember them?!”

You felt your own temper beginning to rise and you struggled to keep your voice even. “They were Slavers. Murderers and Pirates. They were the worst kind of men.”

“You don’t know that!” He argued, “What right did you have to judge them?”

“I’m a Siren,” you reminded him, “It’s what I was born to do. I followed them first, watched them, saw what kind of men they were with my own eyes. I only ever took the bad ones.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “So now you expect me to believe Sirens follow some kind of moral code?”

“Not all Sirens, but I expect you to believe that I do.”

“How am I to believe anything you say” he scoffed, “You’ve been lying to me since the day we met.”

“I didn’t lie to you, not really. Everything I told you about myself was true. I just omitted one small detail.”

He laughed, but there was no humour in it. “I think we have a vastly different understanding of the word small,” he muttered, “and a lie by omission is still a lie.”

He wasn’t wrong, but … “You lied to me too, Sturmhond.”

He straightened, no longer leaning against the door, but still kept the distance between you. “That’s hardly the same!” He protested.

“Isn’t it?”

“Not at all,” he huffed, “besides, I told you the truth once I thought I could trust you. Although clearly, I was mistaken.”

“You can trust me,” you insisted. “In case you’ve forgotten, I saved your life - twice. You’re welcome, by the way!”

He didn’t look convinced. “That first night, when you rescued me, were you watching the ship? Just waiting for an opportunity to kill us all?”

“No! I mean, yes - I watched you for a while, but I was never going to lure you. I convinced my sister to let you go,” you rushed, desperately trying to explain, “I promised to stay away from you and in return Amalia agreed that they wouldn’t go after you, if you survived the storm on your own.”

“But we didn’t,” he said, brow furrowed in confusion. “The ship sank and I almost drowned.”

“I remember. I was there when the storm hit. I saw you save the boy who was trapped in the rigging, and when you went under, I came after you.”

“I don’t understand. If you promised to stay away from me then why were you there?” He asked, frown deepening.

“I just needed to be know you would be alright,” you admitted softly, “I wasn’t supposed to help you.”

“I don’t suppose many Sirens would go out of their way to save a man from drowning,” he said, mouth curving into a wry smile.

“No. It goes against their nature. But you decided to act the hero and almost got yourself killed in the process,” you muttered angrily, “so I had to choose, and I chose you, even though I knew my sisters would never forgive me.”

“So, you really did save my life? That was real?”

“Yes. Everything between us has been real for me, I swear it,” you said earnestly, “I gave up everything for you.”

He moved towards you then, coming to stand over you where you were still sitting on the edge of his desk, and you widened your thighs to allow him in between them. He was so close that you had to tilt your head back to look at him. You closed your hands in to fists, fighting the urge to reach for him.

“And tonight?” He asked, “Did you kill those men?”

You could have lied, or pretended not to remember what happened, but you didn’t want there to be anymore secrets between you. “I did,” you confessed, meeting his eyes. You weren’t ashamed of what you had done. “and I would do it again if I had to. They would have killed you.”

“You’re not sorry,” he said, and you wondered if he wanted you to be.You thought about it for a moment, but when you closed your eyes, you could still see him on his knees. No. You weren’t sorry at all.

“They got what they deserved,” you hissed, “and the world is a better place without them in it.”

He gave a short, sharp nod of his head in agreement, and you smiled. Whatever he thought of you, he understood this at least.

“Tell me why,” he said, lifting a hand to brush your hair back from your face. “Why did you save me?”

“Because I love you,” you answered honestly, leaning into his touch when his hand lingered. “I loved you then and I love you now, even if you don’t feel the same.”

He dropped his hand, taking a single step back and you had to stop yourself from swaying forward, chasing the physical connection.

“How do I know that my feelings for you are truly my own? That you’re not influencing me somehow?”

“In what way?”

“I don’t know,” he said, “by using your Siren powers to manipulate me? To seduce me? How do I know you’re not just making me think I’m in love with you.”

“Are you?” You asked hopefully, “In love with me?”

He looked away. “Maybe,” he hedged.

“Well, Siren power doesn’t work that way. My song inspires lust-addled obsession, blind desire, unwavering obedience - not love.”

He stared at you for what felt like an eternity, considering your answer. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he studied you, and suddenly all you could think about was how much you wanted to kiss him.

“Okay.” He said finally. He stepped closer, into your personal space again, but frustratingly kept his hands to himself.

“Okay?”

“Yes. I believe you,” he said, “but you still should have told me. I had the right to know that the woman I’m sleeping with, the woman I fell in love with is a-“

“A monster?” You finished for him. You knew what men thought of creatures like you.

He glared at you. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“That’s not what you were going to say?” You asked, feigning innocence.

“No.” He said firmly.

“Mmm,” you hummed skeptically. “So you’re not afraid of me?”

He blinked at you, as though the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. “Should I be?”

“Well, a little bit couldn’t hurt,” you teased.

He shook his head exasperatedly, but he was smiling now, that perfect crooked smile that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. He put his hands around your waist, finally, pulling you into him and you fisted your hands in his shirt to keep him there. He lowered his head at the same time that you tilted yours up, and your lips ghosted over each other, close enough to share a breath but not quite touching.

“I have one last question,” he said, and you bit back a sigh. For saints sake, what else could he possibly want to know?

“Have you ever used your power to seduce me?”

You squinted at him, trying to decide if he was saying you might need to use your power to seduce him. You felt a flush of annoyance at the suggestion. “No,” you said carefully, “should I?”

He shook his head, no. “I already want you,” he admitted.

“Good,” you smiled, “because I want you too. All the time.”

The corner of his mouth tipped up into a pleased little smirk. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, leaning into him, and this time he kissed you for real, his lips soft but insistent against your own, not pulling away until you were both breathless.

“I’m still angry with you,” he said, when he finally succumbed to the need for air, “for lying to me.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, and you meant it.

“I know,” he said and then he dipped his head to kiss you again.

He brought his hand up to cup your face, the other still gripping your waist as you opened your mouth to him. He took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tangling his tongue with your own and every time you pulled back, he only allowed you to draw a single, ragged breath before he claimed your lips again.

One of his hands ran up your side from your waist, until his thumb grazed the swell of your breast over the thin cotton of your shirt, and you shivered, leaning into his touch. You could feel his growing arousal against your thigh, and you were suddenly overwhelmed by the need to feel his bare skin against your own. You tugged his shirt free from his breeches, pulling it up and off over his head before he could protest.

He immediately slanted his mouth over yours again, as if he couldn’t bear to be parted from you for more than a few seconds, and you let your hands roam over his broad shoulders and chest, before you worked on removing your own shirt. Your fingers slipped over the small buttons, and you growled in frustration, breaking away from his kiss so that you could see what you were doing. He made a sound of irritation, ducking his head to nip lightly at the curve of your neck and you gasped, your shirt momentarily forgotten as you grabbed a fistful of his hair instead. He groaned low in his throat when you pulled him closer rather than pushing him away, and he nipped at you again, teeth grazing your pulse point, this time hard enough to leave a mark. You moaned as his tongue flicked out to sooth the sting and you felt his lips turn up into a self-satisfied smirk against your skin.

When you finally succeeded in unbuttoning your shirt, you reached around your back to unhook your bra and removed that along with it, and then you dropped your hands to the laces of his breeches before he could distract you again. He finally realized your goal then, and began to help, rather than hinder you, pushing his breeches and underwear down to his ankles so that he could kick them away. You stood so that you could do the same and once you were both naked, he lifted you back up, so you were sitting on the edge of his desk again.

You leaned back on your hands, and he dipped his head, capturing one pebbled nipple with his tongue. You arched your back, pushing your breast further into his mouth as his fingers skated along your inner thigh towards your centre. He gave a small grunt of satisfaction when he found you slick and ready for him and you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging him upwards until he released your nipple with a soft pop.

He slipped two fingers inside you easily, and when you clenched around him, he let out a distinctly strangled sound. You met his gaze as you sat up, so you could hook your legs around his thighs, locking your ankles behind his ass to keep him there, and you enjoyed the way his eyes fluttered closed and his breath hitched as his cock settled between your thighs, so close to where you wanted him. You tilted your hips up, and he took the hint, guiding himself into place and filling you completely with one quick, hard thrust that had you crying out.

You clutched at him desperately, barely able to do anything but hold on as he set a punishing pace, driving his hips forward fast and hard, only to retreat, again, and again, until you were both panting. His hands gripped your hips so hard that you knew there would be finger shaped bruises there tomorrow. The desk creaked loudly, almost drowning out your mutual sounds of pleasure, the sturdy wooden frame rocking beneath you with the force of his thrusts.

His face was buried in your neck, and you tugged impatiently on his hair as you felt the first tendrils of your impending orgasm began to creep up your spine, until he lifted his head so that you could capture his mouth with yours. He slipped his hand between your bodies as he felt you tightening around him, his clever fingers finding your clit and tipping you over the edge into climax with just a few precise movements. You cried out his name, convulsing around him as you came, your hand tightening in his hair so hard that it must have been painful, and you felt his rhythm falter. He thrust harder, pushing as deep as he could possibly go, once, twice, three times, then he stilled and shuddered, spilling himself inside you.

You all but collapsed against each other, both boneless and breathing heavily in the aftermath of your orgasms. He was the first to recover, and he pressed a sloppy kiss to your temple as he straightened, retreating from your body. He moved over to the basin near the bed, dipping a clean cloth into the water and wringing it out before returning. His hands were gentle, in stark contrast to how rough he had been minutes before and you tried not to wince as he carefully cleaned away the sticky remnants of your shared release, but his observant eyes caught it anyway. He pressed a finger under your chin to gently tilt your head up.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, face creased in concern.

“No,” you answered, much too quickly.

He raised his eyebrows at you, his expression disbelieving.

“I’m a little bit sore,” you reluctantly admitted.

His face dropped into a scowl, and you knew he was angry at himself for being so rough with you.

“I’m ok,” you assured him, brushing your fingers across his forehead to smooth away his frown.

He searched your face, looking for any sign that you might not be telling the truth and you met his gaze, your expression loving and completely open. He rested his forehead against yours, peering down at you through his lashes.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said after a moment, and you knew he wasn’t just talking about right now.

“Never again,” you promised.

“Okay.” He said softly.

He leaned in to kiss you, sweet and chaste, just a slow glide of his lips over yours before pulling back to slide one arm underneath you and the other around your back. You squealed as he scooped you up, bridal style, so that he could carry you over to the bed. He pulled back the covers with one hand and then lowered you down and crawled in beside you, immediately curling his body around you.

You tried to relax into his embrace, but you couldn’t, not when there was still so much you needed to talk about. You were afraid to bring it up, too scared to hear him say that this was the last time you could be together, so you waited until his breathing began to even out and he was almost asleep before you forced yourself to speak.

“What happens now?” You asked quietly.

“Huh?” He mumbled sleepily.

“With us,” you elaborated, “do you want me to leave?”

“What? No.” He said, suddenly sounding much more alert, “Of course not.”

He rolled on to his back and you turned to face him, propping yourself up on your elbow so that you could look at him.

“What will you tell the crew?”

“Nothing,” he said simply, and though you should have been relieved, you only felt more anxious.

“But Laila is already suspicious,” you pointed out, “and Tolya and Tamar are too sharp not to figure it out eventually.”

“Then we’ll tell them the truth.”

“They won’t want me on this ship when they find out what I am, Nikolai.”

“Last time I checked, I was the captain,” he smirked, “I decide who I do, and don’t allow on my own ship.”

“Don’t be stupid, it doesn’t suit you,” you grumbled, “You’ll end up with a mutiny on your hands.”

“Then we’ll leave,” he said easily, as if it was the most obvious solution.

“Leave?” You repeated, not sure you had understood.

He shrugged, seemingly completely unbothered by the idea. “I was always going to have to go home eventually.”

“You can’t just leave. You love this ship!” You protested.

“I do,” he said, turning on his side so that you were face to face, “but I love you more. It’s my turn to give something up. If it comes down to it, I’ll choose you, always.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. Hadn’t you just been thinking that very same thought earlier? He leaned in to kiss you, slow and achingly sweet, and all of your protests died on your tongue. He nudged you gently to turn over, pulling you back against him and wrapping his arm around you, so that you could be the little spoon as you finally went to sleep.

#nikolai lantsov #grishaverse #shadow and bone #nikolai lanstov x reader #smut #my writing #i wrote this #patrick gibson #i love him so much #zoya is my queen but not in this fic

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fereldanwench · 6 months ago

Text

A Personal, and Final, Reflection on A Certain Fandom

Having spent the past week and a half away from the Tumblr side of the C*b*rp*nk community after a resurgence of old wank (not hashing out the details–IYKYK), I heavily weighed the pros and cons of saying anything else. Ultimately, I decided for my own peace of mind and ability to fully move forward, I do want to say a few things (or a lot of things, given how long this is). This blog is my personal archive first and foremost, and I think writing a “final chapter” will help me find closure. I’m also choosing to publish this because, at the risk of sounding presumptuous, I think my mistakes and subsequent revelations might be good learning experiences for others, too.

Like many of us, just by the nature of when this game was released, I entered this fandom during a very fragile, tumultuous time in my life–Well, sort of, let me back it up a little: I actually initially entered it during a great time in my life. It was July 2021, I had just enjoyed about 6 weeks off from work after quitting a demanding job that had sucked the life out of me for almost 10 years, and I had started a promising new job. I even bought the game with the first paycheck from said new job!

Unfortunately, while I had been told that this position was temp-to-hire, not only was it not a path to a permanent role, but because I completed all the work in my contract over a month sooner than they anticipated (early September vs late October), I was being let go early because they had nothing else for me to work on. I was literally told over the phone, “You did amazing work, you got us caught up through November, but we don’t have anything else for you.”

Cue about 6 months of recruiters ghosting me, exhausting interview processes, demoralizing rejections, and scam upon scam upon scam, all culminating in me returning to the job I had been so happy to leave a year earlier. And while my old coworkers were ecstatic to have me back, I couldn’t help but feel like a complete failure. I took what I thought was a calculated risk, I thought I could do something better for myself, and I couldn’t. It’s something I’m still struggling with today, honestly.

On top of this, I also experienced a debilitating physical health episode in January 2022 which led to me being effectively bedridden for about 3 weeks. [CW: Menstruation, sexual health] I’m not sure of the exact cause–maybe a bad reaction to emergency contraception, maybe unsafe menstrual underwear, but it resulted in menorrhagia so severe I fainted from blood loss. My insurance had literally just ended, another wave of COVID was hitting, and I didn’t want to risk getting infected sitting in an ER for hours only to rack up a few thousand in debt to get a blood transfusion. So rest, iron supplements, and lots of meat and spinach and orange juice was the best I could do.

All of this led to my world becoming very small. I wasn’t working, I could barely do my hobbies or see my local friends, and simple everyday tasks like showering drained me of all my energy. When I was stuck in bed and could barely keep my eyes open for more than a few hours at a time, gossip was a welcome, low-effort distraction from the physical pain and fear that I might either have to put myself in thousands of dollars of medical debt or risk lifelong damage (or worse) from the blood loss.

I also found myself having groups of friends in a way I’ve never experienced before. I’m extremely introverted (even online, though less so than IRL), I have social anxiety, and the handful of times I have been “in” a group I was never really in it. I was always on the outskirts and usually just close to one or two people, max.

Regretfully, this set the stage for me to get caught up in the culture of rumors and speculation that permeates this fandom more than I think it has any other fandom I’ve been a part of.

Academically, I know about things like groupthink and tribalism, and I could see how those influenced the groups developing in the fandom, but I had no direct, personal experience with those phenomena. I think in conjunction with the other struggles I was dealing with, I ended up being incredibly susceptible to an us-versus-them mentality, which led me to feel justified in being unkind to people I knew had been unkind to my friends, even if deep down I knew what I was doing was antithetical to who I strive to be.

I don’t share any of this for sympathy points or to smear anyone else or to avoid accountability–I still chose to act like an ass on a couple of occasions, and regardless of what I was going through, that was still inappropriate. I’m still responsible for my own behavior no matter what’s going on.

But I do want to contextualize my fuck-ups for two reasons:

The first reason is ego-driven, full-stop. Not even gonna gloss it over. I can’t defend being an asshole nor do I want to, but I think it’s normal and healthy to look back on your mistakes and go, damn, why the hell was I acting like this?

Even on my best days, I can be very stubborn and self-important and pedantic and judgemental, and I certainly can’t say that I’ve never inadvertently offended someone–Sometimes a joke might not land as I hoped. Sometimes I get tangled up in my own thoughts, burdened by an excess of nuance and details, and I express things poorly while I try to account for all sides of things. Sometimes I can get a little too opinionated about blorbo stuff. Sometimes there might just be a full communication breakdown or an insurmountable personality clash–But I can also confidently say that I have acted with good intentions in this fandom far, far more than I have with spite or because of petty rivalries.

And when I did get caught up in the drama and gossip and the wank? I was literally at the lowest point I’d been in a very, very long time.

Again, because I feel like I can’t say this enough, that doesn’t make acting like a dick in a Discord server any more excusable, that doesn’t mean I didn’t hurt anyone, and that doesn’t mean that someone I hurt during that time has to forgive me or stick around for me to grow. Hurting someone because you’re hurting is still not okay. But I’m pretty sure every single one of us has had a bad day (or two or three or 365 or–) and made an isolated bad decision (or two or three or–) because of it–None of us deserve to be wholly defined by those moments or denied a chance to learn from those mistakes and be better.

And I think the most important takeaway for me personally is that I have learned from these mistakes and I have not repeated them. Some of these mistakes even helped me realize that I needed professional support for my mental health, and they played a role in my seeking medication and therapy last year. I still have a lot of work to do, but the silver lining to all of this is that I am in a much better place today than I was 2 years ago (even if this year also fucking sucks for non-fandom reasons and I would still very much like a goddamn break.)

The other reason I wanted to share my journey of navel-gazing and healing a wounded ego ~*self-discovery*~ is I think there’s a very good chance my story might sound familiar to others in the fandom. Maybe someone else can learn from my hardships and mistakes, too. Maybe you too were dealing with chronic fatigue or mental health issues or financial stress or isolation or all of the above and then some, and it led you to fixate on things that were harmful to you, to form unhealthy relationships with equally hurt people, and to act in a way that you know doesn't reflect who you are. The past several years have been so hard on so many of us, and I think we’ve all brought a lot of pain and misery into the community even if we weren’t trying to.

A somewhat shameful realization I had last year was I could recognize that kind of behavior in other people, but I completely missed it in myself. I could see how people were making this fandom their whole world and how it was so damaging to them, but I was doing the exact same thing and I just let it go completely unchecked because I thought I knew better. It was a brutal lesson in the pitfalls of pride.

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So I was initially thinking at this point, I would take the time to address a few specific lies, rumors, and insinuations that have been said about me over the past couple of years. Because while I was a jerk in a couple of situations, most of the things said about me are exaggerations, if not outright fabrications.

And I did start writing a lot of that out, but as I was doing it, I was just overcome with a huge feeling of OH MY GOD I just don’t fucking care anymore. As one of my dear, long-time fandom friends has pointed out, there’s a great line about just this kind of thing from one of my favorite characters in one of my favorite games: “Why should it [bother me]? They don’t know me. I know me.”

I also really don’t want to run the risk of pulling anyone back into the fray (especially if they’re not even in the fandom anymore or if we’ve talked privately about certain issues) by even alluding to shit that happened years ago.

Instead, I would like to offer three of my big takeaways from the experience of being falsely accused of awful things:

You do not know nearly as much as you think you know about people’s fandom relationships. The one semi-specific thing I will mention is that I had been explicitly named a few times as being in cahoots with people I don’t think I ever even spoke to or that I had already drifted away from–Just because you saw two people existing in the same public space doesn’t mean they’re besties, bestie. Also, friends don’t always have to agree with each other, nor should we be expected to participate in a public spectacle of shaming if we do have a disagreement. People are allowed to resolve their differences privately.

Not all conflicts/disagreements are inherently abusive or toxic. When you are hurting or dealing with unresolved trauma or starting to confront uncomfortable truths about yourself, the slightest disagreement can feel like a personal attack, but that doesn’t mean it is. Sometimes differences might be irreconcilable, but sometimes they might not be if you don’t automatically assume the worst of someone with a different perspective than you. Sometimes we just need to give the other person a little grace and the benefit of the doubt that they’re doing their best. And sometimes we might need to consider that it’s actually our own behavior driving the conflict and not the other person.

Even in situations when someone has clearly been unfairly targeted/victimized, that doesn’t mean they can’t also be a perpetrator of harassment/abuse to someone else. Victim and abuser are not mutually exclusive roles. I would wager a lot of us are familiar with the cyclical nature of abuse, and to quote a line from one of my favorite movies (admittedly a bit of a flippant line in the context of the film, but it still rings true): hurt people hurt people. Accountability for shitty behavior is never conditional, regardless of the pain we’re experiencing.

--------

I titled this my final reflection, and I want to clarify what that means:

First of all, I’m not leaving this fandom (don’t everyone clap at once ha ha ha). I’ve been in various online fandoms since the early 00s, and while this has been one of the more challenging communities for me to navigate, it’s not enough to make me give up something I love this much. My blorbos are my perpetual muses, and I feel like virtual photography is the creative outlet I’ve been searching for my entire life. I love this game and hobby too much to stop creating and sharing.

I’m also not leaving Tumblr. While I’ve had this specific account since 2016, I’ve been here since 2010–Tumblr is not just this fandom for me. I have many friends (some I’ve known since my original account in 2010!) from other fandoms, and I’m not losing the best place to hang out with other people who are special to me just because one fandom got a little unpleasant. (I mean, look, I weathered the DA fandom here circa 2012-2015–This ain’t my first rodeo.) I also have a lot of hope for the Tumblr Communities feature, and I’m really hoping the VP community we’ve set up can continue to grow and flourish.

But I am no longer addressing any of this wank. If you have a problem with something I’ve done or said to you and you want to address it with me directly (preferably in a private space just so we don’t keep putting this shit on people’s dashboards), I am open to conversation and apologizing where needed.

Otherwise, this is the last time I’m talking about it anywhere. Tumblr, Twitter, Discord, publicly, privately–I’m done. I’m washing my hands of it. I don’t want to hear anything else about what other people have done or who they’re friends with or who they’re following or what they’re saying about me or my friends or any of it. This bullshit has taken up too much of my time and energy, and I have very important smutty shots to take.

And I am probably going to continue to be less active in the fandom on Tumblr, at least for a while. You probably won’t see me here much until September at the earliest. This time away has been really good for me, and I think I need to continue with limited Tumblring and making the time I am here more structured. Plus, with some of my other fave video game series returning this fall, my blog will probably shift back to a more well-balanced multi-fandom space.

I’m also going to need to diversify my dash a little bit more, which means I will likely end up unfollowing some mutuals, particularly if we don’t interact often, if you don’t tag, or if I see any mention of fandom drama–It’s nothing personal, but I know breaking mutualship can hurt a little, so if following me after that makes you uncomfortable in any way, please don’t feel like you have to stick around. I totally get it. Similarly, if it would make you uncomfortable for me to continue to interact with your posts after unfollowing (because I probably will if you post in certain tags), please feel free to block me.

Okay. Christ, that was long. Shut the fuck up already, right? This is why I can't do social media with character limits. ghdfjgjhkfdgkfdg

Seriously, though, that's it. People are welcome to comment on this post if they want, but I really have nothing else to say about any of this so please don’t be offended if I don’t reply. I’m not ignoring you, I’m just… Well, done.

#btw in case youre wondering why i censored the name--im trying to minimize this clogging up the main tags/searches #t: wench on fandom

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miss-celestia13 · 1 year ago

Text

Sweeter Than Fiction

Jake x MC First Date One Shot

Words: 2.4k

Jake and MC go on their first real date. Shy, and awkward, Jake can’t seem to get his words to come out right. Luckily, MC is fluent in Jake and she is delighted to help him figure it out.

It is very fluffy, very sweet and super soft. I haven’t named MC, or described her in detail. I wrote this instead of the battle I’ve dreaded for months, and the epilogue I should have posted weeks ago🤭❤️

Jake

Anxiety was simply an electrical storm in his brain. A painful, confusing, and frustrating storm, but he knew it was all caused by himself. That didn’t stop him from fretting. Pacing the floors, biting his nails to the quick as he tried and failed to gather the courage to knock on her door. Why was he so nervous? He was taking her out for their first real date. He’d spent the last few days with her, always leaving before it got too late, yet he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking as he stared at the door. His shirt collar turned into a noose, and he couldn’t get enough air. It was stupid. He knew that, but it didn’t matter. Emotions didn’t respond to logic, and he hadn’t yet learned how to calm them.

Sighing, shaking his head, and desperately ignoring the creeping shame crawling up his neck, he squared his shoulders, raised his fist, and gave the door 3 sharp knocks before his mind could turn against him again. He held his breath as running footsteps could be heard on the other side of the door. The metallic click of a key turning in the lock made it to his ears over the fierce beat of his heart. And there she was. Smiling brightly, a vision of loveliness and freedom as she beckoned him inside and told him to wait while she grabbed her purse and jacket. Her blue sundress fluttered around her calves, and her loose hair fell down her back in gentle waves. She was a daydream he’d never dared to allow himself to have.

“What do you think?” She asked as she emerged from her bedroom, giving him a twirl and an expectant smile.

He thought many things as he ran his gaze over her small form. Stunning, perfect, and far too good for him, but he wouldn’t be the one to tell her that. She hadn’t listened the first time, and he wanted to keep her.

“You look like music.” He said and wanted to slap himself as she frowned and cocked a brow.

“I look like music? Is that Jake language, or are you nervous?” She teased. His cheeks were on fire, and the noose/collar around his throat tightened more as her lips curled upward.

“I’m nervous, but I meant it. You look like music you can get lost in, the kind that makes you want to dance and feel it.”

Her smile wobbled slightly, eyes sparkling as she turned her gaze to the floor and shook her head. He immediately assumed she was upset and cursed his lack of confidence. But then she grinned, and he saw only joy in her endless eyes.

“I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received.”

Jake breathed a sigh of relief, his head spinning as she sidled up to him and slipped her arm through his. Somehow, it became easy, simple, and straightforward as they left her house and walked to his car. He opened her door for her, reluctant to let her go but impatient to get their night started. As they drove away, she quickly connected her phone to the car speakers, and he relaxed as music filled the charged silence between them. He kept stealing glances at her, hungrily memorizing every detail to obsess over later. The summer sun had tinted her skin the color of honey, and more freckles sprinkled like glitter across her cheeks from long summer days working in her garden. She was most at home with her hands in the dirt, leaves in her hair, and flowers blooming wild around her.

He was useless at keeping plants alive and preferred to watch her in her element while he worked on his laptop in the shade. She peppered him with random questions as they drove. He was grateful as it took his mind off of how clammy his hands were on the steering wheel. She quizzed him on everything from his favorite song to his most hated subject during his school years. Hanging on his every word like he held the answer to everything she'd ever wondered in her life. It was difficult to concentrate on the road, so enchanted by the woman riding shotgun he couldn't focus as well as he should. Luckily, the road was quiet, and they were soon pulling into a parking spot behind the restaurant.

Instead of a Chinese place, he'd chosen a little mom-and-pop Italian restaurant. They had eaten Chinese takeout for the last couple of days, and neither fancied it again tonight. He got out of the car and hurried around the front of it to open her door. Her coy smile of thanks boosted his confidence a little as she again took his arm, and they made their way to the entrance. Once inside, they were taken to a table in the corner, away from too many prying eyes, and Jake thanked the waitress after giving their drink orders. They were handed menus and were soon left to peruse them. He doubted he would be able to taste anything and blindly picked the first pasta dish his eyes landed on and set his menu down.

Fidgeting fingers gave away his nerves as she put her menu on the table and eyed him carefully.

“Jake, why do you look like you're about to jump off a cliff?” She chuckled lightly, eyes full of understanding.

He cleared his throat, scratched the back of his neck, and avoided her opal gaze as he replied, “I'm just not used to being able to do things like this. I wasn't prepared for how overwhelming it would be.”

She tilted her head, “How can we make it less scary, then?”

Jake went very still, eyes widening and utterly shocked she hadn't laughed or mocked him. All he saw was kindness and affection on her sweet face, and it made him a little braver.

“I think I just have to get used to it,” He shrugged, knowing he'd be nervous until the paranoia and fear he was being watched fully lifted.

She considered it, nodding once as she reached across the table and gently stopped him from picking at his nails, threading her fingers through his as she said, “So, exposure therapy then? We'll work together, and maybe it'll shift faster.” She winked, making him laugh and shake his head.

His fingers tingled pleasantly, and a delightful warmth spread from his chest, down to his legs, and up his neck, burning away some of the fear thickening his tongue.

“If you think that'll help, I trust your superior knowledge of how humans behave. If it doesn't come with a power button, I'm lost,” He jested sarcastically, so she grinned and flashed those distracting dimples again.

“I'll have you mimicking humans perfectly within a month.” She declared, nodding decisively as the waitress returned with their drinks, and they gave her their order.

And just like that, he could ignore the buzzing in his ears. The nerves faded to a muffled chattering in the back of his head as they discussed what movie they'd watch later. She was partial to cheesy horror movies, while he hadn't seen many movies to have an opinion. Whenever he struggled for words, she read them on his face and supplied him with the right ones. He was used to frustration and scorn whenever he couldn't handle something in a social setting, but she never even blinked and seemed able to read between the lines of his frown or smile. It was a new kind of freedom, and the restaurant felt more like hallowed sacred ground to him. Like he'd entered a dreamland full of happy chatter, the fragrance of freshly cooked tomatoes and garlic, the vivid colors, it all seemed oddly unreal.

When the waitress brought their meals, they fell into a peaceful quiet as they ate and only spoke to offer each other bites of food or to ponder whether to share a desert or get one each. It was effortless once he was out of his head, and it was good, real, and right. He might be a mess of tangled-up emotions, flaws, and enough baggage to fill a train, but she wanted him anyway, and it was enough. Love. He hadn't known it for a long time, thought he wouldn't recognize it when it showed up, but he felt it now. It was a quiet emotion lurking under the louder ones as it slowly became part of the oxygen he needed to breathe. Often it felt like it wasn't there at all, but when she was gone, he was gasping and choking for air until she returned. Something that constantly paced along his ribcage settled whenever she was near, and it felt like magic.

Pushing his plate away, surprised he'd managed to eat and enjoy it, he relaxed in his chair, took a drink of water to clear his mouth of the herbs. She was done soon after and leaned her elbows on the table, lowering her voice so only he would hear.

“I think we should get two desserts to go. I can't decide between the tiramisu and cheesecake. We can eat the leftovers for breakfast, or a midnight snack” her singular eyes twinkled under the dim lights, and his stomach dipped, butterflies taking flight.

He knew what she was implying, and he wanted to spend the night with her more than he wanted to live. His imagination was sorely lacking in the romance department, and he was terrified he'd forgotten how to act or respond during an intimate encounter. Still, her breezy manner and lighthearted way of approaching his tendency to brood and fret soothed the ragged, raw nerves under his skin. Like aloe on sunburn, she knew how to relieve and quell the sting of everything he failed to say. So he ordered the two deserts and had them packed to go. Her smile never wavered, and he drew confidence from it. She clearly wanted this and him. He just had to believe he deserved it. It was enough for now that she believed it, and he hoped to learn in time how to do so himself.

The sky when they stepped outside, was a livid, violent bruise overhead. Shades of pink, violet, and red blended and clashed as the sun turned into bed, the fading light casting long shadows on the tarmac under their feet. She turned her face to the sky and inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut as he wished he were skilled in the arts so he could paint her at that moment. He smiled as she opened her eyes and held his hand out. Static fizzed up his arm when she took it, and they slowly made their way to the car. Playing the gentleman, he opened her door first and waited for her to get inside, but she stared up at him expectantly, and his heart took off in a gallop as her hand cupped his cheek. Leaning into her touch, pressing his forehead to hers, and admiring the myriad of colors in her changeable eyes, he drew in a breath that infused him with her warm, sweet scent.

“You should always kiss your date before leaving. It's dating law.” She murmured, nuzzling his nose with hers, and he felt as if he would float away if she dropped her hand.

“We're going home together. I didn't think it counted,” He whispered, just to taste her laugh on his parted lips a mere inch from hers.

“Silly man, it always counts.”

Before he could chicken out, he closed the distance between them and marveled at how soft her lips were, pliant and supple as they melted into his. Every kiss felt like the first, like he had finally returned home after years at sea or stranded in some wasteland. Tender, gentle, and insistent, she soon yielded to him and let him inside. Her other hand curled into his shirt, pulling him even closer, and he sank his fingers into her lush hair, tilting her head for better access as she hummed low in her throat. He lost himself in her and never wanted to be found. She shivered when he gently nipped her plump bottom lip with his teeth, and he wanted to see what else he could do that would make her react like that. There was only one way to find out, and he begrudgingly parted from her, kissing the tip of her nose as she blinked dazed eyes and clumsily got in the car.

The beaming grin he wore as they drove home would not fall away until long after they tumbled into bed and passed out. Certainty he was where he was supposed to be soaked into his bones, and all his doubts scattered in the winds under the heat of her touch. He once thought himself cursed, fashioned for a life of hollow, aching numbness that haunted him even in his dreams. Destined never to forge a connection or relationship where he could be himself and reveal the scars of his life free of judgment. He saw now it wasn't true and this was real. Love didn't scream or shout; it didn't make any commotion at all when it appeared. It silently defended, protected, and comforted those it touched. She saw his scars and kissed each one, promising never to add to his collection while he breathed the same promises into her hair before she fell asleep.

It was rare, exquisite, and slightly tarnished after all that had happened, but it threaded them together, and he would treasure it, treasure her. For he knew what a life with no love looked like, and he no longer wanted to be a phantom in his own life. The last five years of his life didn't exist. He wanted to live a life of firsts and lasts with her, mark every moment in a tangible way so they could look back years from now and say, “We were there.” And he started with a selfie of the two of them the next morning. Rumpled hair, pillow marks on their faces, and grins so wide they barely fit the screen of his phone marked their first night together. That photo was how he knew he truly believed he was free. He was very far from the man he'd been when they'd first spoken and glad of it as they danced around her kitchen, making breakfast and planning their day. He was happy. And all at once, it was enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! And if you like, comment or reblog, thank you for that too. I hope you enjoyed it. I just love fluff🥰

Part 3: Silver and Gold

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