#just so you know i was listening to enchanted as i wrote this

[ahqkas]

♯ TOO SWEET ; mattheo riddle

❛ i take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at 3, you’re too sweet for me ❜

PAIRING! mattheo riddle x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS! in which mattheo recalled the two times you were too sweet for him (based on this req.!!)

WORD COUNT! 4.1k

WARNINGS AND TAGS! consummation of alcohol, lovesick mattheo, fluff, angst, a lot of my hcs for mattheo’s past (i wrote him the way i see him), lmk if i missed smth !!

NOTES! this is purely my view on mattheo’s character bc the hc i wrote suit him sm 😿😿 reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated <3

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

ONCE A MAN FALLS IN LOVE, he finds himself drawn to not just the physical beauty of his muse, but for the essence of who the person truly is - their quirks, intelligence, kindness, and their unique way of seeing the world. Every interaction, every shared experience, every memory he brings, adds another layer to his adoration towards the love of his life.

His love for them is evident in the little things - the way he watches them when they aren't looking, the small gestures of thoughtfulness, the silent support during their dark moments of life. It's in the way he listens, truly listens, to the hopes and dreams, fears and frustrations, always eager to offer his thoughts and ideas. This love manifests in his desire to be their anchor in times of storm, their cheerleader in moments of triumph, and their person in all the in-betweens. It is a love that values their independence and individuality, recognizing that they are their own person with their own journey, and yet, he longs to be a part of that journey, to walk alongside them and share in their joys and sorrows of life.

Mattheo Riddle was no different.

He marvels at your kindness, your sweetness, and the light you bring into his life. You are his muse, his inspiration, a spark of the goodness that stands in stark contrast to his own perceived flaws and insecurities he feels deep inside himself. He sees you as an angel, a pure and radiant being who somehow chose to share your life with him, despite his own imperfections and inner demons.

He sees you as an angel in a human form, who chose to live among the devils, just so he could feel the heavenly touch for the first and last time in all eternity.

He often wonders how he, with all his rough edges, hidden scars, and a past life without a happy memory, could be worthy of your love. He feels like a monster, haunted by past mistakes and burdened by the weight of his own fears and failings. You, on the other hand, are everything he aspires to be - kind, compassionate, and endlessly forgiving. Your presence in his life is a constant reminder of the beauty and grace that he lacks, and yet, your love makes him strive to be better, to rise above his darkness and become someone worthy of your affection.

In his heart, he knows that your love is transforming him, helping him to heal and grow. Your existence is a light that dispels his inner darkness, a reminder for him to cherish that even monsters like him can be loved. He clings to this, that your love is making him a better man, one day at a time.

01. THE PARTY

The Slytherin common room was full of shadows and flickering lights, transformed into a wild moment of freedom for the night. The music, a thundering beat that echoed off the stone walls, could be heard from miles away, yet no professor or ghost visited the common room to cancel the party. It was as if the ancient castle itself had granted this one night of freedom to its most cunning and ambitious students. The rhythmic thrum of bass notes and the infectious melody of the latest wizarding hits filled the air, blending with the sound of laughter and the clink of glasses.

Bodies moved in a hypnotic dance, swaying in sync with the music. The students had discarded their usual aloof demeanors and uniforms, lost in the euphoria and joy of the moment. Green and silver decorations adorned every surface, shimmering under the enchanted lights that hung from the ceiling like glowing jewels. Laughter rang out, high and clear, mingling with the deep, resonant hum of conversation.

In one corner, a group of seventh years huddled together, their heads bent close in a whisper, before erupting into loud laughter. Nearby, a couple twirled around each other, their bodies intertwining like dark waves, eyes locked in their private world amidst the chaos around them. The fireplace, usually a place of quiet contemplation, was now surrounded by students perched on its stone ledge, their eyes gleaming with the thrill of the night and alcohol.

Long tables filled with food and drink stretched along one wall, bearing the weight of a feast other students could be jealous of. Platters of magical meals, charmed to stay warm, smelled of aromas that mingled with the scent of butterbeer and stronger beverages. Bottles of firewhisky and elf-made wine were passed from hand to hand, each sip fueling the atmosphere more and more as drunken the students got. The alcohol flowed freely, loosening tongues, transforming even the shyest students into party animals of the night.

The Slytherin common room had never felt so alive. Tonight, they were not just the students of Hogwarts; they were a family, united by their house and their understanding of what it meant to be a Slytherin.

Mattheo Riddle was one of those students who were enjoying themselves tonight. His breathing features were illuminated by the green lights as he leaned casually against a stone wall, a cup of firewhisky filled to the brim in his hand. The amber liquid sloshed perilously close to the edge with each of his slowed gestures, but Mattheo seemed unconcerned, clearly lost in the haze of alcohol. His dark curls, usually styled in the way that made uncountable amount of girls fall on their knees, now fell loose around his face as you watched from a close distance.

He was engaged in a drunken conversation with Theodore Nott, whose tall, lanky frame was the opposite to Mattheo's more athletic build. Theo's typically serious demeanor had softened, his features relaxed into a rare, genuine smile as he listened to Mattheo's ramblings with a giggle threatening to spill out from his lips. The two of them, often seen together, now looked like true brothers. It was almost scary how much they resembled family when they were drunk.

Mattheo's voice, rich and slightly slurred, carried over the music as he recounted a particularly outrageous story from his recent fight. Theodore threw his head back and laughed. It was clear to anyone how close those two boys were, drunk or sober.

"Can you believe he actually thought I was serious?" Mattheo snickered with a big grin stretching across his face, taking a swig from his cup, the whiskey burning a warm path down his throat. "I mean, I barely managed to keep a straight face!"

Theodore laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're a menace, Riddle. One of these days, you're going to get expelled."

"Ah, but tonight isn't that night, mate," Mattheo replied with a slow wink, raising his glass in a mock toast. "To living dangerously and laughing in the face of consequences!"

They clinked their cups together, the sound barely audible over the throbbing beat of the music and you thought now was the best time to approach your boyfriend. 

Mattheo's brown irises scanned the crowd, catching a look of you as you pushed your way through the crowd of dancing bodies. The sight of you instantly brightened his expression and a genuine smile spread across his face. He felt a rush of emotions that the whiskey in his hand only intensified, each beat of his heart echoing with the certainty that what he held for you was pure love. The Slytherin straightened up, his posture shifting from the casual slouch of a carefree boy to the attentive stance of a man. Theodore noticed the change and a knowing smirk made its appearance on his lips as he stepped aside, giving the two of you a moment of privacy. 

"[Name]," your boyfriend called out, his voice full of warmth. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against yours as you came closer. "There you are, love."

You beamed up at him, your eyes reflecting the party's enchanted lights, making them look like twin stars. "Having fun, are we?" you teased and the tone of your voice carried a playful match that always managed to make his heart skip a beat. 

"Only now that you're here," he replied. The world around you seemed to blur as he gazed down at you, all the noise and chaos fading into the background. "You make everything better."

Drunk on both the whiskey and his overwhelming affection, the boy's usual reservations melted away. He held you close, his hands resting on your waist as if anchoring himself to your presence. When he was sober or feeling down at heart, his love for you was often hidden beneath layers of stoicism and insecurity, but now, in this moment of happy drunkenness, it shone through. 

He bent down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips, enjoying the sweetness of the contact. "I'm so lucky to have you," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't deserve you, but I'm going to spend every day trying to be worthy of your love."

 “You have no idea what you mean to me. I look at you and . . . it’s like you’re the sun and I’m just a planet orbiting around you, soaking up your light,” he continued without a break. The boy wanted to get every one of his words out as fast as humanly possible. To show you his hidden feelings he wasn't able to tell you before. “You’re my everything, [Name]. I don’t know how I got so lucky. You’re so kind, so . . . good. And me? I’m just . . . I’m a mess, you know? A monster sometimes.” 

You shook your head lightly and took his hands into your own, enveloping him with your warmth. He was starting to get emotional, and you didn't need to have your boyfriend drunkenly mopping around. His mood changed like weather when alcohol got involved. “You’re not a monster, Mattheo. You’re human. We all have our demons.”

“But you,” he didn't allow you to finish your sentence before he spoke up again, his voice raw with sincerity, “you make me want to be better. For you. I see you, and I just want to be the man you deserve. I’m not always good at it, but I try. I try because you’re worth it.” 

You could see the glazed look in his eyes as he swayed slightly on the spot. He was rough around the edges, you couldn't deny the truth, but he was the sweetest boy when he managed to fall in love. Which wasn't exactly difficult, Mattheo fell in love easily. But when he did, it was worth everything. Mattheo was your sweet boy. “Love,” you said softly to him, your voice filled with gentle concern to the brim, “you’ve had a bit too much to drink. Maybe it’s time to slow down a little, okay?”

Mattheo blinked, giving you a lopsided grin, his expression a mix of boyish charm and pure happiness. “But I’m fine, [nickname]. I feel great. Better than great, actually. With you here, everything’s perfect.”

“I know you’re having a good time, but I don’t want you to feel terrible tomorrow. Let’s take a break from the firewhisky for now, alright?”

He pouted slightly, his shoulders slumping as he realized you were actually serious. “You’re probably right,” he admitted, a hint of reluctance in his voice. “But only because you’re asking me.” You chuckled softly at his behavior, threading your fingers through his and gently leading him away from the dancing crowd. You navigated through the common room, moving towards a quieter corner of the space where a plush couch sat, inviting you both in with open arms. The room’s enchantments cast soft shadows on the walls, the flickering lights creating a soothing atmosphere.

“Here, sit down,” you instructed as you guided him to sit on the couch. Mattheo obeyed, sinking into the cushions with a contented sigh. You sat beside him, your hand never leaving his. You took the half-empty cup of whiskey from his hold, reaching for a glass of water on the table nearby instead and handing it to him. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

Mattheo took the glass, his fingers brushing against yours as he did. He took a long sip, the cool water a welcome relief from the heat of the alcohol he consumed. “You really do take good care of me, don’t you?” he murmured, his head resting against the back of the couch as he looked at you with a mixture of admiration and exhaustion.

“Someone has to,” you replied playfully, brushing a stray curl of hair from his forehead. “And I wouldn’t want anyone else to have the job.”

As the night wore on, Mattheo felt a warmth spreading through him that was only partly due to the whiskey. It was the warmth of belonging, of being surrounded by friends who understood and accepted him, flaws and all. Despite his often rough exterior, he was deeply grateful for these moments, these stolen hours of joy in the corners of the Slytherin common room.

02 - THE MARK

The past has a profound power to shape a man, especially when that past is influenced by suffering at the hands of a father. 

For Mattheo Riddle, his family history was the darkest shadow of all the shadows that clung to him, a reminder of the pain and fear that had molded his entire life. Raised in a home devoid of warmth, where love was a foreign concept and cruelty was a daily reality, Mattheo had learned to build tall and thick walls around his heart. A shield to protect him from more hurt that would come his way. 

The orphanage was a harsh place, stripped of the luxuries the boy had unknowingly been born into. It was a world of strict discipline and a poor form of affection. The caretakers, overwhelmed and underfunded, had little patience for a child with such a notorious legacy. Mattheo grew up under the weight of whispers and sideways glances, the infamous name "Riddle" ensuring he was never just another child. The women of the orphanage knew his father, having taken care of him when he was around the same age as his son. What a wicked child Tom was. Mattheo was different because of that, marked, and this awareness shaped his formative years in ways he could barely comprehend.

As he grew older, the whispers about his family name became more pronounced. The children at the orphanage were cruel. “Monster,” they called him, creating the very fears that nested within his own heart. He began to internalize these taunts, seeing himself through the lens of his father's sins. The idea that he could be worthy of love seemed more and more distant, more of a fantasy that had no place in his reality. But the same idea of letting someone see past his defenses, of allowing someone to love him despite his flaws, seemed not only impossible but dangerous. For how could anyone love a monster, especially one crafted by his own father?

Despite this, Mattheo yearned for something more. He longed for the kind of love he had never known, a love that was gentle and kind, that saw past his scars and accepted him for who he was. But every time he felt himself getting close to someone, the fear surged up, a wave of doubt and self-loathing washed over him and forced him to retreat behind his walls again. It was a never-ending cycle.

Hogwarts had saved him. 

Mattheo Riddle’s first steps into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were met with a mixture of curiosity, awe, and apprehension. For the other students, he was a figure of whispered rumors, his infamous last name carrying with it a weight of fear and fascination. They had heard the stories of his father’s dark acts, of the legacy that haunted the halls of the castle like a ghost. But for Mattheo himself, Hogwarts represented a new beginning, a chance to escape the personal hell he called the orphanage and create his own path. The boy was no longer just another orphan. Here, he could be anything he wanted to be.

He wasn't deaf. The young boy could feel the weight of his father’s name bearing down on him like an invisible burden. And he wasn't blind either. He saw the way the other students looked at him, their eyes flickering with a mixture of fear and suspicion. They didn’t openly taunt him as the children in the orphanage had done, but he could sense the whispers and the wary glances that followed him wherever he went. For Mattheo, however, their fear was a source of power. He reveled in the attention, in the way his presence commanded respect, even if it was tinged with fear. He was finally someone. 

He excelled in his classes, his natural talent and restless ambition setting him apart from his peers. But it was on the Quidditch pitch that Mattheo truly came into his own. Flying high above the castle grounds, he felt a sense of freedom unlike anything he had ever known. With every twist and turn of his broomstick, he left behind the weight of his past and embraced the thrill of the present, making him feel like a bird. 

Six years had passed since Mattheo Riddle first walked through the grand doors of Hogwarts, a hopeful and determined young wizard with dreams of greatness he was so sure he'd achieve. But now, as he entered his sixth year at the renowned school of magic, the world around him had shifted irrevocably. The return of Lord Voldemort two years prior had plunged the wizarding world into chaos, and with it, Mattheo’s life had been destroyed once again.

Even among his fellow Slytherins, Mattheo felt like an outsider, a traitor to his own house and everything it stood for. He had once prided himself on his ambition and cunning, on his unwavering determination to succeed at any cost. But it didn't matter anymore. 

Mattheo sat alone in the quiet atmosphere of the Astronomy Tower, his gaze fixed on the night sky that sparkled with millions of stars. Each twinkling light seemed to mock him, making fun of the darkness that now stained his soul even more than before. His fingers gripped the sleeve of his jacket tightly, as if seeking some comfort in the fabric, but finding none.  

 On his left forearm, the Dark Mark burned like a brand upon his skin. It was a mark of shame, of betrayal, and every time he looked upon it, he felt a sickening sense of disgust and self-loathing. He had thought that by aligning himself with the Dark Lord, his father, he would finally be able to escape the shadows of his past, to prove himself worthy of the name Riddle and his father's presence. But now, he realized that he had only succeeded in plunging himself deeper into the deep hole. Even the orphanage was better than this. 

The footsteps behind him shattered the sweet silence, echoing off the stone walls of the tower. Mattheo tensed, his heart racing as he turned to face the intruder, steeling himself for whatever judgment or punishment awaited him. But as he turned, he was met not with the accusing glare of Filch or the triumphant sneer of a rival, but with the concerned gaze of a familiar face. It was you, with your eyes filled with worry as you approached him slowly, as if he'd disappear if you were a bit louder. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Are you alright?”

No, he wasn't alright. But he would be caught dead sooner than having you worry about him like that and more. 

He forced a tight-lipped smile, attempting to mask the emotions raging within him. “I’m fine,” he replied, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining the facade. “Just . . . thinking.”

You stepped closer, taking a seat on the ground beside him. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Mattheo. I know something’s been troubling you lately. You can talk to me.”

You were his angel, full of that purity and light he adored about you in a world darkened by his own sins. He longed to confide in you, to unburden himself of the guilt and shame that had consumed him since he had received the Dark Mark. But the fear of your rejection, of you seeing him for the monster he believed himself to be, held him back. It would shatter his heart, to see the pained expression on your face. 

“I . . .” he began, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the words, "there's something I need to show you." With a heavy heart and trembling hands, Mattheo finally mustered the courage to reveal the truth to you. For months, he had carried the burden of the dark secret alone, pushing you out and shutting you down in an attempt to shield and protect you from the darkness that was his father. But now, as he sat before you, his heart and his soul laid bare, he knew that he could no longer hide from the truth. The boy reached for the sleeve of his jacket, his fingers fumbling as he pushed the fabric up to reveal the twisted lines of the Dark Mark etched upon his skin. The sight of it made him recoil, a wave of shame washing over him as he exposed his deepest, darkest secret to the one person he had sworn to protect.

Your eyes widened in shock as you took in the mark, your palm flying to your mouth in disbelief. For a long moment, there was silence between the two of you, broken only by the sound of your shallow breathing and the distant hum of the night owls. 

“I received this a few weeks ago," Mattheo confessed, his eyes avoiding yours. "When he decided I was good enough for him."

He felt your gaze on him, eyes searching his face for answers. He could see the confusion and concern written in your expression, but beneath it all, he saw something else - a flicker of understanding and acceptance that filled him with both hope and fear. How can someone be so good to someone like him? "I've been living with the Malfoys ever since," he continued, the words tumbling out in a rush as he struggled to explain himself. "But it's not what you think, [Name]. I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be a part of his plans, to be branded as one of his followers. But I had no choice. He made me do it."   

Tears welled in his eyes as he spoke, and he felt a desperate plea for forgiveness in his chest. He needed you to understand, to see past the mistakes that consumed him and into the depths of his soul where his love for you burned bright and true. The thought of losing you hurt him more than the Cruciatus curse ever could. 

“Forgive me. For shutting you out, for pushing you away. I was scared, I was ashamed . . . but I can't bear to keep this secret from you any longer. You deserve to know the truth, even if it means losing you forever." 

Your heart swelled with a bittersweet mixture of sorrow as you gazed upon Mattheo, your sweet boy, sitting there before you with tears in his eyes and the weight of the world upon his shoulders. In that moment, all you wanted was to wrap him in your arms and shield him from the pain and darkness that threatened to consume him. With shaky hands, you reached out to him, fingers brushing against the mark of his father's followers etched upon his skin. The sight of it filled you with a fit of fierce anger, but beneath it all, you saw the boy you so dearly loved - a boy who had been shaped by his past but who was so much more than the picture of his scars. 

"Love," you whispered into the dark, taking his face into your hands and wiping away those tears that managed to escape his control, "there's nothing to forgive. Nothing in this world could ever tear us apart, not even your father or that mark."

In that moment, Mattheo knew that he would do anything for you, that he would move heaven and earth to ensure your happiness and safety. You were his light in the darkness, his angel in a world filled with demons, and he would cherish that for the time being his heart swelled at the thought of you. You were simply too sweet for him and you knew that Mattheo’s struggles were far from over, but for tonight, that was enough.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified.

[legendofmorons]

Your honor, I humbly submit an idea that has not left me alone for a solid few months. Seriously. I can’t escape it.

Reader is a hero. Well, kinda. They are a hero in their dreams in the most literal sense of the phrase.

When they were younger, they had this incredibly strong love for the Legend of Zelda and Mario and all manner of games where you could simply help people for the sake of doing good. They weren’t too shocked when their dreams took a more realistic turn. As they slept, they felt like they were living a second life where they were the hero. They would go around solving problems, collecting items, and generally saving the day. Some nights, the dreams would be from different times, based on different adventures, or fighting different people.

Those dreams had always felt extremely real to Reader, yet they knew they were just dreams. When morning came, they moved on.

That was the norm until a strange portal appeared in front of them. The summer was coming and they had no better plans, so they threw caution to the wind and stepped through. When they came to, they found themselves clad in the same clothes they wore in every dream, surrounded by the items they had grown so familiar with adventure after adventure.

They had gathered their things, realizing they instinctively knew how to fight, similar to what had happened on that first night. They wandered the area, heroic persona seemingly taking control, heading towards a town and immediately solving problems.

In fact, that was how they found the chain, while attempting to solve another problem. Something told them to keep their name close to their chest and they weren’t in the business of going against their gut, so they listened. They used a nickname in a group full of nicknames.

A long while of traveling and growing trust (and one particularly heated story rendition where the reader just plain forgot to censor their name) and Reader had shared their name with the group. They were met with stunned silence which was, admittedly, not the reaction they were expecting.

As it turned out, each of those dreams became stories to these heroes, acting as a guide on how to act, what to try. In their eyes, Reader was a hero of story and legend, someone kids played at being.

How do you think the boys would move forward from this?

-VS Anon

Dreamscape

Pairing: Chain & reader

Rating: G

Notes: (Y/n/n) - Ypur nick name. I wrote the opening and then skipped the middle, I hope it's okay. I just really wanted to write the meeting.

Summary: You find yourself in the world of the dreams you played hero in, but apparently those dreams were more real than you thought.

Warnings: none.

Other: I saw you submitted something along these lines more recently. VS, do you want a second take on this? I am willing to do another take, haha. As always, if I missed anything, please let me know

-------

You have always had a vivid imagination, at least according to those around you. But you can't really argue. After all, your dreams used to feel like a whole other world. A second life of sorts.

You'd loved games where you played a hero. Legend of Zelda? Amazing. Mario games? Absolutely.

Over the course of your life, you built what would have been quite the legacy in your dreams. You had countless items and had even been blessed by a sages.

Summer hangs in the breezes, due to start any day.

So, when a strange purple portal with a spooky energy opens up before you, you go through it. You don't have much else going on, and don't imagine anything too weird coming of it.

A shield, that was gained from a forest. Wooden with metal enforced ages and a beautiful swirling design carved into it.

You emerge in a small clearing with birds song cheerily overhead.

In front of you is a pile of items. Items that you know, because you collected them in your dreams.

A sword, gifted by the ruler of a fairy kingdom. The blade is enchanted to never break and to absorb any malice.

A small stachel that clips to a belt that is a bottomless bag. Anything you put in there appears in your hand once you reach in and think

A small cluster of potions. One that heals, one that provides stamina, and one that protects from fire.

Even the small flute from your travels.

"What the hell?" You murmur, looking at your hands.

You realize then, belatedly, that you are in the same outfit from your dreams. The leather armor on your limbs and the breathable fabric comfortable.

This is officially Weird, with a capital 'W'. This- doesn't seem like a dream. Not at all.

Ypu gather your items, securing them as you have many times before. You brush yourself off and look around for more details.

The clearing you're in is nice. Wild flowers are scattered about and there's a rabbit at the edge.

A river runs through it.

Well, your best bet is to find a town or something, and you heard once that towns are often near rivers. So, in theory, if you follow the river, you'll be okay.

You head off, following the river downstream and hoping for the best.

-------

After two days of travel you have come to a few more conclusions.

First of all, you can fight. Like- really well. You fought of monsters that included a lynel, some lizards, and several bokoblins.

Second of all, walking for two days straight sucks but also you aren't as exhausted as you probably should be.

And third of all, this is definitely not a dream.

You're starting to wonder if this second life was ever a dream.

The third day you find a small town, but a town nonetheless. Thank whatever it is that looks out for you.

You make your way towards the store, hoping to stock up on arrows and food. You've accepted this is your life for the moment, might as well be prepared.

Unfortunately, while lost in thought you trip and stumble into someone. You are both sent sprawling to the ground.

With a groan, you rollout of them. You sit up and say, "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, are you okay?" A male voice asks.

You turn to look at him and nearly chokes. You find yourself staring at the Link from Skyward Sword.

Okay, this is a lot.

"Uh-" You manage eloquently. Blinking as you try to formulate some kind of response.

"Did you hit your head?" Another male asks, he has pink hair. That's another Link, the one from Link to the past and s several other games.

"I think I might have." You frown, pushing to your feet.

You look around the group and find it made up entirely of Links from different games.

"That's no good, you need a potion?" Asks Twilight Princess Link.

"No... Just a little dazed." You wave him off, "Ever since I walked through a portal it's been a little weird."

"You walked through a portal too?" Asks Wind Waker Link.

"Yeah... Why?"

"I guess you're supposed to help defeat the shadow." Muses what is probably an older version of Majoras mask Link.

"Maybe."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, I'm Twilight." The Link in a wolf pelt says.

"I'm Time."

"Legend."

"Hi, I'm Wind!"

"Wild."

"I'm Warriors."

"Hyrule!"

"I'm Sky."

"Four."

You know these are all nicknames, so you decide to give your own nick name. You have a feeling your real name will cause- a scene.

"I'm (Y/n/n)."

-------

Time can't stop thinking about the connections between you, (Y/n/n) and the hero (Y/n). You both have the same items, the same personality, and even the same appearances.

The hero you remind him of is legendary, chosen not by Hylia but by a deity before any remembered. A hero chosen Fierce Deity.

He comes back to the conversation in time to catch the tail end of your story.

"Ams then my friend was like "Stop hiding from them, they don't remember ypu tripping two years ago, (Y/n)."

"What?" Hyrule chokes.

"You're name is (Y/n)?"

About time. Fierce purrs from the void inside Time's mind.

"Uh- yeah?"

"You're The (Y/n)?!" Wind demands.

"Oh stars." Time mutters.

"I mean, maybe?"

"You're The one who slayed the hydra of Catan?" Wild blinks.

"Oh. I mean, yeah. That wasn't a big deal." You shrug, "It needed to be done."

"You rode a tornado!" Legend accuses.

"What? No I got swept up in a tornado."

"You knew the original sages before Skyloft even exsisted!" Sky gasps.

"Yeah?"

"You're the biggest hero ever." Warriors manages, sounding awed, "How are you unaware?"

"Uh...I didn't think that stuff mattered?"

"Are you kidding? Kids play games where they pretend to be you." Four says, looking horrified at your unawareness of your importance.

"Oh. Neat?" You say shakily.

This makes no sense, your dreams - if they were ever that - never seemed like you would be a hero of legend important enough to be known millenia later across different timeliness.

"You really don't know." Legend muses wryly.

"Glad I helped?"

"You are telling us all about your adventures." Wind informs you.

[mynameis-noe-body]

marquis de gramont fic

Y/n is sweet and kind and isn't part of Vincent world, but he fell for her anyway and although he's ruthless he has a soft spot for her as she's his wife. A fic of him killing someone and she accidentally sees and get scared and he comforts and cuddles her.

Thank you for the request! I found myself immediately inspired and I wrote it as soon as I could.

I am working on the other requests, too! It will just take a little time :) 🖤

Safe in his arms

Marquis Vincent Bisset De Gramont × you (F)

Rating: Teen & Up Audience

Status: Complete (one shot)

The first time he had seen you, truly seen you, was at the Louvre. On a January morning, when Paris was still cold and tormented by a wind blowing from the north, when the fog rose in the city's parks and around its splendid monuments, bathing everything in an intense white, you had waited for hours on those stairs, with your arms crossed, looking at one single work of art. At first Vincent didn't give it much importance. But when the crowd thinned out, around noon, knowing that soon the guests would arrive at his private event — yet another official HighTable lunch right there in Paris — and seeing you still there, fascinated, he approached.

"Madmoiselle, I am sorry. These rooms have been reserved for a private event. You should leave" he had said, coldly.

But you, you smiled. And your smile was sweet. "Can I just ask you for a minute? One minute, and I'll be gone. I've never seen her like this." You looked up dreamily at Nike — that marble statue at the top of the steps, as proud and silent as you'd ever seen it. “She is just so beautiful” you had commented under your breath, as if not to break that spell. "They deprived her of her arms, of her very face. They tore her to pieces. Yet no one has ever managed to take away of her wings."

Vincent, enchanted by your words, so simple and so true, lost himself in your face. His gaze filled with you for the first time. He watched you go, nodding at you when you wished him a good day, and he followed you with wondering eyes until he saw you disappear. He didn't know it yet, but you would haunt his days and his nights from now on.

He looked for you. He had his men search for you until he could find you. Your subsequent encounters must have seemed casual; a casual meeting in the park during your walk, a chat over a coffee, you even met in the library.

You laughed about it. “It almost feels like fate.”

Vincent nodded. Fate, sure.

He wooed you with expensive gifts, luxurious dinners, evenings at the theater, visits to the most prestigious private art collections — but you weren't as impressed as he expected.

“How can I make you happy, mon amour?” he asked you.

"I don't want your money, Vincent, only you."

And so, one spring evening, you found yourselves simply walking through the streets of Montmartre, laughing and chatting amiably, holding hands, exchanging a few kisses without realizing that the night had already passed; at dawn, on the steps of the cathedral, it was just the two of you, two hot cappuccinos and two croissants, watching the sun rise from the east, illuminating a new day.

Soon after, he asked you to marry him. And you said yes.

There was only one small problem. You knew nothing about him.

▪️▪️▪️

You were beautiful. Naked in his bed after yet another night of love, entwined with the ivory silk pillow, your cheeks slightly flushed and your lips so sweet, so languid. Vincent stroked your hair, watching you sleep. You had the power to unleash in him a tenderness that had long been buried, forgotten and drowned in an ocean of violence. There was nothing he loved more than taking care of you, spending hours listening to your stories so simple and yet full of emotions; he was surprised at how you were able to find beauty in the most mundane things. There was no art that compared to the perfect curves of your body in his hands, against his lips, kissed by his mouth, worshiped by his limbs. There was nothing he wanted more, at the end of a day, than to soak in your immense bathtub with you — a glass of champagne, a tray of mini pastries, macarons and fine chocolates, essential oils and perfumes in the warm water and his hand gently caressing your breast, listening to your heartbeat — before carrying you to bed and falling asleep in your arms.

You were his most precious jewel. And because of this, his biggest fear was losing you forever.

Yes, in his world you were a weakness. Vincent had taken every precaution to keep you away from the monsters that lurked in the shadows of his life, but on the other hand it was inevitable that sooner or later the Great Table would learn of your existence. With this, the problems had begun. Vincent was a powerful man and a powerful man always had enemies. Indeed, the more power he had, the greater the number of his nemeses.

House Bisset De Gramont was a peaceful, safe place, far from danger. Immersed in the Provençal countryside, surrounded as far as the eye can see by lilac fields of fragrant lavender, kissed by the sun, it was one of your favorite places to spend long summer weeks. You knew that Vincent was a Marquis, that his family had been extremely wealthy, and that his business took him all over the world... and nothing else. You enjoyed your holidays with a carefreeness that he envied. Vincent watched you tan by the pool, read your favorite novels lying on the green grass of his gardens, paint the spectacle of lavender swaying in the wind, and hoped that nothing would ever affect your happiness.

But that morning, that morning...

There was a knock on your bedroom door. Yet they knew — his men had been well instructed about it and it was forbidden for anyone to come near your bedroom! What the hell were they doing?

Quickly, he stood up and put on a robe, stomping out of the bedroom with frozen anger in his eyes. "What the fuck are you doing? What made you think you could—"

"Monsieur — Marquis. Please listen" one of them interrupted. "We have the man."

The man. Vincent took a deep breath. The son of a bitch who followed you. He had noticed that black sedan since your departure from Paris a week earlier. He was sure it was a hitman sent for you, the easiest target, most disarmed in the face of the capabilities of his enemies. Some had understood that if they wanted to destroy the Marquis De Gramont, they would have to destroy you first. You, who were his strength and purpose in life. His one true love.

Many had tried, that man was just one of many.

Vincent growled, grabbing his helper by the collar of his shirt. "You separated me from my wife at seven in the morning, on a Sunday, for yet another son of a bitch? At least tell me it was worth it!"

"He's here, sir, we thought you would—"

"He is here?!"

They carried him forward. Two other men had tied the hitman with tight ties around his wrists and legs, blindfolded him and were now dragging him forward, holding him by his arms.

Vincent was inflamed with terrible anger. "Don't you ever dare bring one of them into my house again! My wife - my woman, she's in the next room sleeping and you bring one of these worms into my house!" the Marquis grabbed the knife from his man's pocket. "Kill them and get rid of them! This is my order!" and with a mechanical gesture of the wrist, making it seem so simple, he threw the blade and it pierced the assassin's neck. He gasped for just a second. Blood ran down his wounded throat and, now dead, he collapsed in the arms of his captors. It was only when a trickle of blood reached the white marble floor that, with a short, anguished breath, you attracted attention. And with terror in his eyes Vincent turned away.

You had just woken up, you were wearing his shirt, you had walked silently barefoot to the ajar door. And you had seen it all. You had covered your mouth with the palm of your hand, but this was nothing compared to the terror you felt when you saw the blood. The death. A murder. Your Vincent, your sweet, caring husband, who had just killed a man. Stepping back, trembling, you risked fainting. You suddenly felt pale, weak, powerless, completely disconcerted. Cold shivers ran through every fiber of your body. But before you could fall to the floor, Vincent had rushed to catch you. Lifting you into his arms, he had carried you back to bed.

"It's okay, mon amour" he whispered, kissing your forehead. You were shaking and crying. "No one will hurt you, you are safe with me, ma chéri."

You pointed to the door, now closed. "That man — I saw, oh God, I saw that man! You killed him! Vincent, my God, oh no. No, no — you killed a man!"

He shook his head. The more you trembled, the tighter he held you against his chest. "He was an evil man and he would have hurt you if you had let him live. He had been paid for this, my love, for you."

"Me?" you exclaimed, horrified. Your face twisted into a grimace of disgust and terror. "What have I done wrong in this life to deserve death?!"

Vincent chuckled. It was really fun. “Oh dear, you married me.”

You tried to move away from him, to squirm, to slip away from his embrace, but despite managing to slide against the other end of the bed Vincent took your hand, your wrist, and dragged you towards him again. Laying back on the sheets, he held you down with his entire body. "I am a very powerful man. And powerful men must protect themselves, and protect those they love." He caressed your face wet with tears. He found them so innocent.

You stammered, still shocked at the sight of that blood, that death, that ruthlessness. "Then we should hide!"

Vincent laughed even harder. "There's no hiding from this! It will always be a part of me, darling. But I can assure you of one thing. If there is a safe place for you in this world, then this is right here, by my side." He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, your neck. He hugged you, rocking you gently.

" I love you" he whispered, "and I live for you. I am willing to kill — to die, if necessary, for you. I ask only that you continue to love me as you always have. I am still me, always your Vincent. You can do this for me, mon amour?"

He left the ghost of a kiss on your lips, and covered you both with the sheets, stroking your hair to help you fall asleep again. Before closing your eyes, answering his question, you nodded softly. "I love you, Vicent."

He smiled.

[itsbeeble]

Enchanted

Summary: You lost each other once, holding out in hopes of crossing paths again. It's almost fate that you do, and Wonwoo doesn't want to let you leave him again

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, exes to lovers

Pairing: Idol!jeon Wonwoo x afab!reader

WC: 4.5k (i got REALLY carried away yall im so sorry)

Series Masterlist

18+ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

WARNINGS UNDER CUT

Warnings: hurt comfort, ex high school sweethearts to lovers, mentions of someone trying to get a little too touchy feely with reader so if you aren't comfortable, don't read it (nothing bad happens AT ALL, the guy is just a dumbass, but i figured i would put a warning for all of you), unprotected sex, making out, fingering, choking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, begging, kinda dom/sub themes again, mentions of drinking, swearing, marking, spanking, Wonwoo likes boobs, sexual tension, mentions of chemistry, idk there's a lot so let me know if i missed something important

Listen to Enchanted by Taylor Swift <3

A/N: Guys i wrote this all today/last night and i'm really proud of it. It's also the first smut fic that's like...i wouldn't call it intense but it's more than what I'm used to ig. I hope yall like it though <3. Also thank you to Fawn for beta reading again. teehee

You had always hated gatherings: holidays, work events, family reunions, weddings, you name it. You always hated being the only person there without a partner. Not that you felt the need to have one, but it got annoying when you got the same questions over and over and over again.

When are you going to settle down and marry a nice boy?

Your parents aren’t getting any younger, don’t you want them to have some grandkids?

What are you waiting for?

The truth is, you had the answer to only one of those questions. What were you waiting for?

It has to be some stroke of luck when the answer walks right through the door to your high school reunion decked in an all-black suit and the same nerdy glasses he’d had his whole life. 

Jeon Wonwoo. Your high school sweetheart turned drunk sob story to your best friends after a few too many cocktails. 

It’s ironic how the root of all of your relationship problems just so happens to hate your guts. Not that you blamed him for it. Everything that happened between the two of you, everything that went wrong in your relationship was because of you and your insecurities. Because you didn’t trust that the idol life wouldn’t ruin the two of you. If you were him, you’d cut contact and disappear as well.

Eunchae, your best friend from high school, nudges your arm, her eyes flicking between you and the man who hasn’t spotted your wide-eyed stare. 

“Did you know he was coming today?” She whispers harshly, jerking you out of your dumbstruck trance. Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, awfully reminiscent of a goldfish.

“I— no, no I didn’t.” You feel out of breath, your heart beginning to pound against your ribs so hard that you fear the bones might snap. “Hana said that— that he didn’t RSVP.” 

You look up again, and your heart stutters in your chest.

He’s looking at you, through the crowd of people around him. Wonwoo had his eyes locked on you, his gaze unreadable from where you stood. It feels like he’s cast an enchantment on you, freezing you under the weight of his gaze. 

Your hands are shaking, and the drink in your hand almost spills before Eunchae grabs you. Someone steps in front of Wonwoo— a man, from here you can’t tell who— and your view of him is cut off.

You don’t see him try to gently nudge the man to the side while talking to him, trying to get a better look at you. You don’t see the disappointment when he finally gets him to move and you’re gone, out of his view. 

~

“Wonwoo,” one of his old friends, whose name has slipped his mind (Seonkyung maybe?), claps him on the shoulder. “You really have grown up, huh?” Wonwoo smiles politely, adjusting the expensive watch on his wrist. 

“I mean seriously,” another man comes forward, someone Wonwoo knows very well and for all the wrong reasons. Lee Jongdae, the man who planted seeds of doubt in your ear. The man who ruined something good, something that would have lasted. “You used to be like,” Jongdae raises his hand, waving it flat in the air next to his shoulder, “this tall? And now you’re a giant!”

“You must be getting all the girls, eh?” Seonkyung teases. Wonwoo wants to scream, wants to get out of this situation as fast as possible. “The idol life must make things easy, right?” 

“I don’t really go out much,” he shrugs, still holding that polite smile on his face. “The idol life is busier than you think.” Seonkyung scoffs at this. Jongdae narrows his eyes, but the near-mocking smile returns to his face.

“Come on~” Jongdae presses, “there’s gotta be some idol woman that you’ve snatched up. Someone has to have grabbed the attention of the great Jeon Wonwoo.” 

He hesitates. Yes, someone has grabbed his attention but it isn’t another idol in the industry. 

“Or, wait,” Jongdae’s hand collides with Wonwoo’s chest, something similar to malice appearing in his eyes. “Are you still hung up on that Y/N girl?”

Wonwoo goes rigid, and beside him Seonkyung gets quiet. Jongdae bursts into laughter, the sound ringing around the room and gathering the attention of a lot of people. Wonwoo feels his jaw tick in annoyance, fighting the urge to roll his eyes or knock the man to the ground. 

“No way are you still hung up on her!” Jongdae huffs out between laughs, seemingly uncaring that he’s the only one laughing. “Ten years, and you’re still going after someone who couldn’t care less about you anymore?”

Someone inside of Wonwoo breaks a little bit. Something inside him cracks, and his resolve crumbles slightly. He hadn’t expected the jab to hurt as much as it did, but god did it sting. 

“I never said I was hung up on her.” Wonwoo folds his arms over his chest. “Like you said, it’s been ten years. If she’s moved on then that’s her business.” 

“So it wouldn’t bother you if I got with her?” Jongdae takes a step forward, an eyebrow arching in challenge. “Because I won’t lie to you, she’s looking good.”

Wonwoo’s jaw ticks again, but he keeps a pleasant smile on his lips. Don’t say yes, don’t say yes. “Like I said, not my business.” 

That clearly isn’t the answer Jongdae is looking for, and a puff of pride fills Wonwoo. 

And then dread. He just gave the one man he would hate to see you with permission to do whatever he wanted. “Permission”, as if he has any control or say in the things, or people, that you do. 

~

When Jongdae approaches you, there’s an immediate pit of despair in your stomach, like some princess waiting to be saved from the tower she’d been locked in. There’s a menacing look in his eyes, and he walks with a swagger telling you that he’s used to getting what he wants out of a situation. 

“Hi, gorgeous.” You almost cringe at the first words out of his mouth, your lips twisting into an awkward, tense smile. 

“Hi…?” 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Jongdae continues, not waiting for you to say or do anything. He’s only focused on getting what he wants, that much is obvious from the way he smirks and glances around to find…someone. Who, you aren’t sure. “You sure have…grown up a bit, haven’t you?” 

“I mean…yeah I’m 27. I would hope I’ve grown up a bit.” He laughs a bit too hard for something you hadn’t intended to be funny. 

“Say,” he leans closer to you, and you press yourself back against the wall. His hand comes to rest on the side of your thigh, right near the slit in your dress. “Why don’t we get out of here? You know, go somewhere a little bit more…quiet? Maybe Mrs. Ji’s old chemistry lab?” 

Your body is tense, and you try to pull away from him. 

“No, thank you.” Your hand tightens around the small plastic cup of cheap wine in your hand. “I think I’m fine where I am.”

“C’mon, don’t you wanna loosen up a bit?” He coos, and his grip tightens on part of your dress. Your body tenses.

Then his grip was gone, and his body is hitting the floor, and people were beginning to surround you and Jongdae and…Wonwoo? 

Wonwoo is standing next to you, his black jacket seemingly gone, and the sleeves of his black button-up are rolled up to his elbows. His eyes are narrowed, his lips pulled into a thin line. 

“What the hell was that for, Jeon?” Jongdae pulls himself to his feet, trying to approach him, but another man steps forward. “Thought you said it wasn’t your business?”

“It wasn’t,” Wonwoo agrees, “but that was only until you tried to do that.” 

Something about Wonwoo being this protective over you, even after what you did, makes your stomach twist into knots. You have to remind yourself that he’s just doing this because he had to. Because this is what anyone would do, and your heart sinks into your stomach. 

“We were just trying to have some fun,” Jongdae snaps, “right Y/N?”

Wonwoo looks at you, and when you return his gaze it’s like you’re back in high school again. 

Do you want to leave? His head tilts ever so slightly toward the door. 

Get me out of here. You hope your eyes are portraying that thought perfectly, but the tight smile on your ex’s lips tells you all you need to know. 

“She’s not going anywhere with you, Lee Jongdae.” Wonwoo’s hand finds its way to the small of your back, and you find yourself tucking your body into his side just like you used to. 

Only this time, it’s like you fit perfectly under his arm. His very…very…very muscular arm and slim waist and when your arm wraps into the back of his shirt, you can just barely feel the tight muscles and—

Oh god, you’re gonna do something you shouldn’t if the two of you don’t leave right now. 

You’re lucky that Wonwoo is able to guide you away, and that Jongdae doesn’t try to come after the two of you. You figured that, while the man was stupid, he wasn’t going to try and harm someone making more than triple his annual income and with enough power to ruin his life with just one click of a button. Probably literally. 

~

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo has his hands wrapped around the headrest of the driver’s seat in his car, watching you as you pick at the skin around your manicured nails. You turn your head to look at him, pursing your lips. 

“I mean…I guess? He didn’t really do anything, thank god.” You let your hands drop to your lap and a heavy sigh escapes you when you let your head fall against your headrest. 

“I’m sorry that he did that.” Wonwoo’s voice is gravelly, and you have to take a moment to calm yourself before speaking.

“It isn’t like it’s your fault. You do know that, right?” Wonwoo shrugs.

“It kind of is, though. The only reason he went up to you is because of me. Because he wanted to get under my skin.” Oh? You arch an eyebrow, turning your body to face him. The slit in your dress shifts ever so slightly, exposing your bare thigh. Wonwoo turns his head away from you, his cheeks heating. 

“Why would he want to do that?” In your heart, you already know. The way the two of you easily slipped back into your old habits, the way he didn’t even hesitate to help you despite protesting that anyone would have done it. You knew, now, that he didn’t hate you. You just wanted him to admit it. 

Wonwoo lets out a heavy sigh and rolls his head to look at you. 

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” You nod, leaning your body across the center console to get close to him. You can tell he’s nervous, maybe embarrassed. 

“You know me, Wonwoo. I always get what I want.” You grin and Wonwoo turns to look at you again and suddenly you’re aware that you aren’t dating him anymore. That it’s weird for you to be that close to him. 

Your smile drops and you sink back into your seat. Wonwoo watches you, a frown replacing his previous smile. 

“I’m— I’m so sorry.” You press yourself as close to your door as possible. “I shouldn’t have— I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Wonwoo fights the itch in his brain that tells him to grab your hand and place a kiss on the back of it. He hadn’t realized just how enchanted with you he was until he saw you across the room for the first time in ten years. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed having you pulled against his side, although you fit much better now that he’d filled out and grown into his body. Wonwoo hadn’t missed the way your breathing hitched when he pulled you against him, hadn’t missed the dazed look in your eye when he looked down to ensure that you weren’t hurt. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I just— I shouldn’t have touched you like that—” 

“Y/N,” Wonwoo cuts you off. “You did nothing that I didn’t want you to do.” Your mouth snaps shut, and you look at him with wide eyes. He takes a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “I…I still— fuck this is harder than I thought it would be. For a songwriter, you would think I’d know how to confess that I’m still enchanted by you.” He laughs nervously, and when he turns to look at you, you’re smiling gently. You understand.

You stay quiet and then turn to him again. He’s facing you too, and your faces are inches apart. 

“I was enchanted by you too, Jeon Wonwoo.” 

And then your lips are on his, and it’s a searing kiss that leaves him breathless from the moment it starts. His hand rises to your cheek, gently pulling you even closer to him. Your hands wrap around the fabric of his shirt, and you whine when his tongue hesitantly prods at the seam of your lips. 

You open your mouth for him, and his hand slides to tangle in your hair and pull you impossibly closer, nearly across the center console. He roams your mouth, his tongue licking at every inch, sliding against your own as if this was the last time he’d ever be able to kiss you. Your hand slides down, tracing down to his tie, then to his abdomen and you can feel the muscles tightening wherever your nails trace. 

Your hand trails even lower, and you feel him freeze against you when you place your hand over his crotch. He forces himself to pull his lips from yours, a string of spit connecting your tongues, and his eyes flutter shut again when your hand squeezes lightly around his hard-on. 

“Don’t do this to me,” he pleads. “I’m supposed to be a gentleman.” You smirk, raising your lips to his ear. 

“What if I don’t want you to be?” A gentle kiss was placed to the corner of his jaw, and his grip on your hair tightened to the point of near painful. This draws a whimper out of you, right in his ear. He pulls you back, not harshly but enough for your jaw to drop. 

“Tell me you’re sure,” he practically begs. “Tell me that this isn’t going to be a one-time thing, that you want me as much as I want you. Tell me that you aren’t in love with someone else, that there’s no one waiting for you at home.” 

Tell me you love me.

Your hand slips to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing just under his eye. 

“You know that you’ve always been it for me, Jeon Wonwoo.” You promise, and your lips are against his again. It’s sweeter than the first but still filled with ten years of words left unsaid. “Take me home.”

~

The moment Wonwoo locks the door to his apartment, you’re pressed against the wall with so much force you’re surprised there isn’t a hole in the shape of your body. His hands are on your hips, your thighs, your shoulders, and your chest. Every time he pulls away from your lips, he catches one between his teeth, nipping at the soft flesh before shifting his focus to your neck.

“Wonwoo,” your voice is shaking, your hand tangled in the dark strands of his once neatly styled hair. “Wonwoo, please?” Another hickey blooms across your neck, another on your shoulder, then your collarbone. 

“Please what, baby?” He rasps, tugging the strap of your dress to the side until it slips down your shoulder and exposes more of your breast. “What do you need from me?” He slides the other strap down, and you gasp when his cold hands reach up and grab at the soft mounds on your chest. 

“Wonwoo— Wonwoo, I—” Your brain has gone to mush the moment his mouth lands on your nipple, sucking at it and nipping at the bud. You breathe out soft moans, your hands struggling to move to the back of your dress to reach for the zipper. 

It’s impossible to function with Wonwoo flicking his tongue against one nipple, his fingers kneading and twisting and pinching at the other. Your hands shake as you finally catch the zipper, yanking it down as quickly, yet gently, as possible. 

Wonwoo pulls away from your chest, breathing heavily, eyes filled with nothing but lust. He examines your body, entirely nude from your choice to go braless and pantiless tonight, and his cock twitches in his slacks. 

“God, you’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” He hisses. You peer up at him with eyes so innocent, but you both know that isn’t the case. “Did you know I was gonna be there? Hm?” He grabs your chin in one of his large hands, yanking you toward his face until you’re struggling to even stand on your tip toes. “Did you know that I was gonna give in to you?”

“No— Wonwoo, I didn’t know—” His free hand collides with your ass and you cry out, stumbling toward him. “Fuck, Wonwoo!” His hand strikes your skin again, and a gush of arousal practically drips down your legs. 

“I think you’re lying to me,” he hums thoughtfully. “Lying isn’t nice, you know.”

“I’m not lying— Oh, Wonwoo please—” His free hand has slipped down to your core, delicate fingers brushing against your sopping wet cunt. “Please touch me, please, I need it.” 

“Yeah, baby?” One finger pushes between your folds, and your knees almost buckle. Your nails dig into his biceps, squeezing the taut muscle as he sinks two long, slender fingers into you. “Need it so bad, don’t you? Had you waiting for so long. Did you miss me, baby? Miss this?”

“Missed you so bad, Wonwoo,” you arch your back into him, your hips jerking against his fingers. He slips a third inside of you. “Miss— Missed the way you t-touched me.” He hums, curling his fingers up into you and you emit a desperate cry of his name. “Right there, Wonwoo! Fu—fuck, right there!” 

“Tell me how much you missed me, pretty girl.” He continues to curl his fingers inside of you, watching you and enamored by the way your eyes roll back, the way your jaw is dropped, and the way your chest heaves. “Tell me how much you need me.” 

“N-Need you so–o bad. No o-one makes me fe-feel this good— oh god,” you clench around his fingers, pulsing and dripping down his wrist. “No one el-se made me c-cum like you d-do.” A swell of pride in his chest, and his thumb presses hard against your clit. You spasm around him, your moans growing louder and higher in pitch. “So close, Wonwoo.”

“It’s okay baby,” he purrs, “you can let go. I’m here now, gonna make you feel good. Gonna make you so good, never gonna have to turn to anyone else again. Just let go.” 

You spasm again, and your body sags as your orgasm rocks through you. Wonwoo has an arm around his waist, his other hand still working his fingers into you and easing you through your high. 

It takes you a few minutes to come down, and by the time you do, Wonwoo has removed his shirt and kicked his shoes off. He’s watching you as you try to step forward, catching you when you stumble. You reach for the button of his slacks and he stops you, smiling when you pout. 

“I’m not fucking you here, baby. You deserve to be fucked in an actual bed.” You let him guide you to his bedroom— correction try to guide you. It’s like you’re addicted to the taste of him, your lips practically gluing themselves to his biceps, licking and biting at the salty skin. You can feel every one of his breaths as he walks, and his pace picks up until he’s flinging open his bedroom door and shoving you in front of him. You stumble a bit, and he pushes you again so you fall face down onto his bed. Wonwoo isn’t far behind you, his body leaning over yours and his hand on the back of your neck and preventing you from pushing yourself up. 

“Do you know how much I missed this? Being able to fuck you wherever, whenever, and however I wanted?” He hisses into your ear, and you feel his free hand slip down your back as he reaches for the button on his pants. His hips keep rolling into yours, and the little grunts and moans that he releases are almost enough to get you to cum again. “Do you know how hard it was to not imagine that I was fucking your sweet little cunt every time I found someone to spend the night with? No one matched up to you, sweet girl. No one got me to cum like you do, got me as hard as you do.” You whine when he kicks your ankles apart, your nails gripping the duvet for dear life. 

When you feel his tip prodding at your entrance, it takes everything in you to not grind into him. He’s breathing heavily into your neck, slowly slipping in. Your body twitches and you fling your hand back, frantically searching for his own to squeeze and distract yourself from the pain of him stretching you out. 

“So tight,” he presses his forehead against the back of your neck, his body shuddering. “Fuck, it’s like nobody has fucked since me.”

“N-nobody else felt as good as you,” you gasp out. “No one could stretch me out like you do. Just fuck me, please.” 

“Gotta let you adjust, baby,” he argues. “Still got about half left.”

You whine again, jerking his arm in front of you and letting your face fall into it. He groans when your teeth sink into his skin, biting and sucking and gasping against him until you feel his hips connect with yours. 

“You ready?” He rubs your back gently, and you frantically nod your head.

“Please, please, please, please—” His hips pull back and you release a guttural moan as he slams his hips into yours. Again and again and again and again. Every thrust sends the tip of cock full force into that soft, pleasurable spot inside of you and it feels so good, and he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, and you don’t ask him to. Your mouth has fallen open, a neverending stream of cries and moans and begging leaving your lips.

His hands reach forward, and you feel a finger hook into your mouth on either side. It stings, the stretch of him holding your mouth open, and you feel your back arch, his cock somehow hitting even deeper inside of you. Drool slips down your chin and it’s so nasty but you can’t form the words to stop him. The only things that leave your mouth are nonsensical babbling and you feel Wonwoo begin to rise, taking you with him. One of his hands leaves your mouth and slips down to the base of your throat, and the other’s thumb hooks into your jaw and holds your mouth open. His hand squeezes around your throat, and you squeeze around his cock

“You close, baby?” Wonwoo coos into your ear but you don’t have the brains to form words. Your hips press back into his, one of your hands slipping down to frantically rub at your clit. You’re clenching rapidly around him now, almost in time with when he pulls out of you and you can feel him twitching inside of you. “Gonna cum again?” 

You try to tell him that, yes you’re so close and it feels so good and oh god Wonwoo please—

Your body shudders and a sound similar to a scream escapes you, your free hand gripping his forearm tightly and you can feel the skin tearing beneath your nails but neither of you cares as he pumps white-hot cum deep inside of you. His hips are still rolling, adding to the sensation of his cum inside of you. Your core begins to sting with overstimulation, and you try to pull away from Wonwoo with a whine. He just laughs, his hands settling on your waist and lowering you down onto the bed once his cock has softened. 

~

Your back is against his in the tub and he’s running a soft cloth along your body, along the marks on your body and the bruises on your hips. 

“You doing okay?” His voice is tender. “I know I was a little bit harsh on you.”

You chuckle. “Not like you haven’t done that before.” 

You play with the suds that float in the water, humming quietly. Wonwoo takes a deep breath, letting his head fall back a bit. 

“Why don’t you hate me?” You lean your head back on his chest, and he frowns at the question.

“Why would I hate you?” 

A shrug and you drop your arms into the water. 

“I threw away a nearly perfect relationship just because someone said you’d drop me the moment you found someone better in the idol industry.”

“So?” Wonwoo traces shapes into the skin of your thigh. “That’s not your fault. I get that it was scary. Neither of us knew what was gonna happen, you were already stressed about how things were gonna work with you being in college. I’m not gonna blame you or hate you for that choice. What matters is that we found each other again.”

Your cheeks heat up and you turn your body around in the tub to sit on his lap. He looks up at you with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes. 

“Did you mean what you said?” You ask. He raises an eyebrow. “In the hallway. That I’d never have to turn to anyone else. Are we gonna…” Your voice trails off and Wonwoo raises his head to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

“I meant every single word I said tonight. I’m here to stay, Y/N.” His nose nudges against yours. “I was enchanted from the moment I met you, and I want to be yours again if you’ll let me.” 

You play with the strands of his hair, smiling like a madman. 

“And I meant everything I said as well,” You let your forehead rest against his, your eyes falling shut. “I want you to stay with me. Please.”

Wonwoo exhales softly. 

“Always. I will always stay.”

~

Taglist: @juyeonszn @leejihoonownsmyheart @nobraincellmode

[vaultdwellerbarbie]

Enchanted (To Meet You)

Javi (Twisters)/Original Female Character (14.1k wc)

Summary Having been born and raised in New York, Emily jumps at the chance to join her co-worker Kate on a journey to Oklahoma. What she doesn't anticipate is how drawn she feels toward her friend, Javi.

this can honestly be read as a reader insert, there are no physical descriptors - only that the main character is a woman. it's easier for me to write with a name, so i wrote with a name, but i left no physical descriptors so it could be read as an insert. anyway, please enjoy! i've been into anthony ramos for a long time. yes this is the only post on my blog, dw about it.

Growing up in New York City, the idea of a tornado was something that Emily had never needed to worry about in a capacity other than the worry that any child feels when they first learn about something that could be dangerous to them. To her, it felt like being worried that the bermuda triangle or the Titanic were going to be much bigger issues in her life as she got older. 

That fascination, though, was something else. She enjoyed learning about weather, and she wished that she could do more to protect people when something like that did happen to them. Of course, she had no real experience with it. That didn’t mean that she didn’t care, and that was why she ended up becoming fast friends with Kate when she joined the team that she had only recently started working on.

At the time, Emily had only been working with the company for half of a year. She hadn’t really made very many meaningful friendships, and she wasn’t sure if she was going to any time soon. When Kate joined, she finally had someone her age who was a little bit left out of a conversation because they were both new, so she befriended her quickly after. 

Kate had been a bit closed off when they first met, but when she opened up about her past and what brought her to the city, Emily understood why. Kate had lost people who mattered to her, people who were the closest to her. She imagined that she felt some kind of survivors guilt, knowing that her friends had been killed by a storm that she had miraculously been spared from. All but one friend, one friend who she wasn’t really in contact with.

To Emily, it was clear that Kate was trying to shut out the past because of her guilt - because it’s the only way to protect her own mental health after what happened. It wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but it wasn’t Emily’s place to say that.

That was the real reason Emily had been she asked Kate if she could accompany her to Oklahoma. Kate was adamant that it was a bad idea. First, she was worried about going in general. When her friend Javi showed up, she got a bit clammy. She didn’t want to go with him because she had no interest in facing her past or being face first with another storm. When she finally did decide to go, her worry became about losing another friend. But Emily knew that Kate was going to need some sort of support system, and she just wasn’t sure that Javi could be that. She didn’t know him, she hadn’t met him, and he was the one bringing her back into this. In the beginning, Emily was incredibly wary of him.

When the two of them left for Oklahoma, after Kate finally agreed that she was okay with Emily coming along so long as she listened to everything she said and didn’t do anything dangerous, that was when she finally met Javi.

The first thing that she noticed about him was his freckles. Emily had been told that he looked different when Kate knew him. His hair was longer, he looked a bit messier, not as put together as he was now. She didn’t question that, but she did insist upon seeing pictures once she was face to face with him since he absolutely did not fit the description that she had been given when she first heard about him anymore.

That curiosity that she felt at first seemed to morph into something else by the time they had actually arrived in Oklahoma. Maybe it was the field of freckles that covered his cheeks, or the way that his eyes lit up when she explained to him how weather patterns in New York had worked. Or, maybe it was the way that he grew instantly worried when she admitted that she had never seen a tornado in person. She wasn’t sure what it was that started it, but she knew by the end of their first interaction she had the unmistakably familiar feeling of a crush gnawing away at her mind every time she thought about Kate’s friend. 

Even though it was nothing serious, Kate could read her like a book. She didn’t shy away from pointing it out to her after dinner that first night, but Emily brushed it aside. Even if she were to admit that she had a crush, it didn’t matter. Neither of them were staying in Oklahoma, Emily’s entire life was in New York - even though some part of her had been yearning for a change from the mundane normality of the life that she had been used to for her entire life, she wasn’t just going to uproot now. Not because of something so small as finding some guy who she had only just met more attractive than she should. 

Kate understood this, but some part of her liked the idea of seeing her two friends get together. Javi had always been alone, she always really seemed to want someone by his side but never seemed to have that. She had hoped, with how well he had done for himself since she last saw him, many he had found someone. But he had devoted his entire life to his work and, seemingly, just didn’t consider himself to be someone who had time for romance. She could understand his thoughts, but it certainly wasn’t healthy. He needed to have something stable, and chasing tornadoes wasn’t stable. But, dating someone who lived so far away probably wasn’t the stability that he needed either. She let it go after that, but she did still find it amusing the next morning when the three of them were in the car together and her good friend just couldn’t keep her eyes off of her other good friend no matter how much she tried to hide what she was doing. 

As the day progressed, Emily was almost surprised that Kate intended on sticking around for the entire week. She had promised Javi that she was going to stay, but she figured that Javi would understand if Kate couldn’t do this because of the trauma that she held closely to her chest after everything hat happened with the rest of their friends. Emily, however, wasn’t opposed to staying. Even though that day had been her first time seeing a tornado, she was excited to see more of them. It was scary, but it was thrilling. Her life had become so utterly mundane that something so thrilling felt foreign to her, but not foreign enough to scare her off. 

By the time she was meant to retire for bed, Emily couldn’t help but sit outside and watch the people enjoying the weather. While tornadoes were rather unpredictable in many cases, and caused devastation, it almost seemed like these people enjoyed them not because of what they could do - but for a number of reasons. Maybe it was human resilience, seeing something without a face, without a person to blame, that could do that much damage to their homes and their lives and spitting in its face to tell it that you weren’t afraid of it. Or, maybe it was just because they were so desensitized to tornadoes that they genuinely were no longer afraid of them - maybe it was just like a roller coaster to them; terrifying, but something that they were used to enough that it didn’t bother them anymore. She wasn’t sure which reason was more plausible. Maybe, some of these people just felt like they were in the presence of a celebrity when being around the Tornado Wrangler and were only so excited because of their proximity to him. 

Her thoughts were cut short by someone beside her, her grip on her sleeve tightening for a moment before she recognized that it was Javi.

“You’re not in New York anymore, not every guy is a threat.” He teased, moving to stand beside her. She was pretty sure he would have gone home by now, but she had seem him speaking with Kate for a moment. 

“I don’t know, your kinda mean friend seems like a threat to me.” 

“Scott? Scott won’t do anything. He’s all bark, I promise.” He responded, but there was something more to his voice. He almost sounded like he didn’t believe that, in a way. Or, there was something deeper. But, she had only been here for a day. If she were to start creating conspiracy theories, she would at least need to make it to the midpoint of the week before she allowed her mind to truly start wandering in that direction. 

“Figured you would have gone home.”

“Kinda hungry, Kate wanted to go back to her room. I was wondering if you wanted to get something to eat.” 

“So nice to be your second choice, I’m honored.” Emily was clearly joking, something that Javi picked up on. Of course she would come second, he was catching up with an old friend and she just sort of tagged along because Kate said it was okay. “I’m sorry if I intruded, by the way, I kn- you invited Kate, I just wanted to come.”

“If I was upset, I wouldn’t ask you to come to dinner with me.”

“Dinner at eleven? Is this a meal time?” She questioned, but moved away from the balcony. “We should probably go before every place in the area closes.”

“Some places don’t close here, do you not have that in New York? I thought that city never sleeps.” 

“Some places don’t close there.” She replied, shrugging. It felt as though a conversation about the city’s insistence to close buildings and bathrooms past a certain hour so they could refuse their services to homeless people didn’t feel like polite conversation, so she opted to change the subject. “You ever consider moving away?”

“I’ve considered it, but what I love to do is here. You?” 

“I’ve considered it.” Emily responded, but she wasn’t sure where to go from there. She was considering it now, but she wasn’t sure where she would go. Her entire life - her history, her family, her friends, her work - was all in New York. “I kinda want to go somewhere else, I’m kind of bored of New York.”

“Seems like there’s so much to do there that you could never get bored. Here, the kids just go to the Wal-Mart parking lot for fun.” 

“Sure, there’s things. But they’re the same things I’ve always known.” She wasn’t sure where exactly she would go, or what exactly she would do. 

“Does Kate know?”

Emily got into the passenger seat of his car, not ignoring the slight flutter in her stomach when he held the door for her (really, she didn’t ignore it because she was internally scolding herself). 

“Kate doesn’t know because it’s barely an idea. She knows I wanted to experience something new, that’s why I came here. But uprooting my whole life is a big thing, and I don’t even know if it’s plausible. No need to stress out a friend when it might not even work out.” 

Javi was quiet for a moment, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. The people in the parking lot faded away, but she couldn’t help but allow her thoughts to linger on them. Did those people all know each other? Or was it just a little bit easier to make friends in a place like this?

“I think, if you want to do something now, you’re probably going to regret not even looking into it a few years from now. It’s probably best to do it… you know, when you have less years invested. What’s really holding you back?”

“Money.” She answered, maybe a bit too honestly. “I have five years experience at this job, but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to find another one. I really don’t want to report the weather on a local news channel.”

“I’d offer you a job, but you seem to hate Scott.”

“I don’t- I don’t hate him, I just think he could be a little bit more… chipper.” 

“Is that how you describe yourself while watching a tornado, usually?”

“Well, since I’d never watched a tornado in person before today, I guess I wouldn’t say usually.” 

“Never?”

“I thought Kate told you.”

“That explains why you looked…” He wasn’t entirely sure how to describe it. “I wish I could feel that for the first time again.”

Emily turned to watch him as he drove. It was clear that there was something about him that she didn’t know, not just because she had only just met him. Perhaps it was because he was harboring some pain within him that she had seen within Kate, but it seemed like he had adjusted differently. Considering the fact that he hadn’t narrowly survived the storm like Kate had, she figured that it made sense that he would adjust differently. He, also, hadn’t left right after. Maybe his coping mechanism was just different, or maybe there was just something about him that she couldn’t put her finger on yet. 

For some reason, it felt like a better reason to be heading out with him in the middle of the night because she was curious about who he was than it did to admit that a good portion of her reasoning was just because she found him attractive.

Truthfully, she was curious. But, she also knew that a majority of the things she wanted to know were things it would be impolite to ask about since she had only just met him. She wanted to know more about his past with Kate, but she knew that what the two of them had been through was something she probably wasn’t close enough to hear about from him. She wanted to know what he thought about Kate’s coping skills, friend to friend about their mutual friend, but she doubted that was something he would divulge to her having only just met her. There were a lot of things that she absolutely wanted to know, but she didn’t fell equipped to ask them because she didn’t think it would be polite - because she didn’t think she would answer if she was in his shoes.

Still, she knew that he was curious about her friendship with Kate. She knew the entire reason he probably asked her to come with him to dinner was because of her friendship with Kate, because it was worlds apart from what friendship he had with her and because he was curious about what Big City Kate and her Big City Friends had been getting up to since she had left Oklahoma. She was certain he would worm those questions out of her at some point, and by the time that their dinner was done, she knew that she was right. 

Some part of her wanted to believe that was the only reason he had invited her out, and she was sure that it was a big part of it. But it became entirely clear to her that it wasn’t the only reason because it almost seemed like he genuinely did want to get to know her as a person. There was something about Javi that seemed inherently lonely, but that loneliness didn’t make any sense to her since he was surrounded by people. Was it because those people were technically under his employment? Was that something that just came along with her knowing about what he had been through? She wasn’t sure, she just knew that there was something about him that made her feel like he craved closeness with people - maybe that was part of his true motivation for bringing Kate back to Oklahoma. Maybe he was just lonely, and maybe he was just relieved that he got two people who wanted to talk to him instead of just one. 

“I thought they would’ve been out here all night.” Emily commented as he pulled back into the parking lot. He was able to park a lot closer to the staircase, even though there was still some heavy machinery and cars that were preventing him from parking as close to where she would need to be as possible. 

“They’re out here a lot, but they’re mainly just groupies. Following the Tornado Wrangler is kind of what they do, he just happened to go to bed.” Javi commented, watching as she moved to exit the car.

“Thank you, by the way. It was nice to talk to you.” She said, moving to get out of the car. “I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?”

“What kind of guy do you think I am not walking you to your room? This place is safer than New York, but not that safe.” 

She raised an eyebrow, but stepped out of the car with him anyway. “You get a lot of murders around these parts?”

“I just wouldn’t be so trusting of motel guests, that’s all.” 

That was a fair assessment. Motels were never given reputations as the safest places in the world, so he was probably right about worrying about her walking to her room on her own. Anyone could be lurking in the shows, especially since it was pushing two in the morning at this point. The only people outside were people like them - younger people, just having a good time - and creeps lurking around places like these hoping to find younger women having a good time. 

“Well, now I’m a little worried about you walking back to the car alone. Should I give you my pepper spray?”

There was a small smile on Javi’s face as he moved to stand next to her, but he simply shook his head. “I’d rather you keep that. Give me your number, I’ll text you when I make it home safely. Sound fair?”

“Sounds fair enough to me.”

Now, the issue with Emily in this instance was simple: She had no romantic experience beyond a few failed dates. She was constantly working, and she always had trouble meeting people in New York. There were so many people there that it could get overwhelming, and because of the vast number of people she saw every single day, any opportunity for a meet-cute was shattered by the realization that she was probably never going to run into that person again. Lost connections aside, Emily had no idea when anyone was flirting with her.

Sure Javi had asked for her phone number, but she had asked for reassurance that he was going to be safe. Was she flirting with him? Was he flirting with her? She didn’t know, she just knew that it was easy to talk to him and she found him rather easy on the eyes. As far as she knew, she was probably never going to see him in person again after this week - at least, not for a good long while. So, she had no apprehensions about just living in the moment. Maybe it was something, or maybe it was nothing, but she wasn’t going to know if she just ignored it entirely. 

Emily watched as he quickly texted her number so she could add him to her phone, but she thought nothing of it. Or, she tried to think nothing of it.

How many people had she exchanged phone numbers with in a similar manner while working in a professional setting? They were both professionals, in a sense. It was true that she was predominantly here for personal gain, that it had nothing to do with work. But, she also knew that they both worked in very similar fields and could - ultimately - help each other out. Was that actually why they were exchanging phone numbers? She wished that she had more answers to her questions, but she also wished that she didn’t have any of these questions. Having only just met Javi, it felt nonsensical to wonder if he also has a crush on her - it felt childish, and she felt far beyond worrying about something like that when she very next day she was going to put her life on the line (again) in the name of science.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Javi.” 

“Can I call you Em?”

“Only Kate calls me Em.” She replied, but she also figured that was where he got the idea. “Sure.”

“Cool. I’ll see you in the morning, Em.” 

With that, she turned to go back into her motel room. There was almost a palpable awkwardness that they both definitely wanted to break away from as quickly as possible. It felt like there was something that should have filled that gap. If it was her saying goodnight to Kate, she would have given her a small hug. If it was her saying goodbye to someone who had just brought her to a romantic dinner and not one that was simply between two friends, she would have probably leaned in to kiss him since it had gone well. 

It was neither of those things. 

That left her returning to her room, wondering if there was something more going on. But, even if there was, she wasn’t nearly awake enough to give it time to think about. She was exhausted from such a long day, and she barely found the energy to change into her pajamas. The idea of having a long thought about how she, at her big age, was having such feelings about someone who she was likely never going to see again was even more tiring than just going to bed. Even in exchanging phone numbers, she doubted that she was going to have occasion to come back here. At least, not any time soon if she wanted to keep her job. Considering the fact that her job was the thing keeping her fed, she really didn’t feel like being fired because she kept going to the midwest to fornicate with some guy. Some guy, who she must note, she’s only just met, knows barely anything about, and simply has a crush on. 

The next morning should have been better, but it was when things when awry. 

Kind of.

Emily and Kate had made their way to a local diner, the same diner that Emily had found herself sitting at with Javi the night before. But whatever personality that she had seen in him had been gone. He seemed drained, sitting there beside his friend who couldn’t hide his rude comments about Kate and some man who just screamed evil corporate manager. She couldn’t prove that there was anything inherently bad about Scott or the old man that was sitting across from him, but she was certain that she didn’t feel any good vibes radiating off of them. 

“Is he not a morning person?” Emily questioned, following Kate outside. 

“He’s… no, he’s not. But he’s not usually like that, either.” She replied, seemingly just as confused as Emily was. Whoever that man sitting across from him was, he looked familiar. Not only did he look familiar, but he screamed bad news to the both of them. She couldn’t make any outright accusations that he was a bad person, but she didn’t feel like it would be a good idea to not be, at the very least, wary. “How was your night?”

“Wh-”

“I saw you go to dinner with Javi, I’m just curious.” There was a teasing tone in her voice, which only made Emily more embarrassed than she otherwise would have been. 

“We didn’t do anything, Kate. He only invited me because you didn’t want to go and he didn’t want to go alone.” She replied, trying to brush off her almost accusation. Nothing had happened, nothing besides them exchanging numbers. Even then, Javi had only texted her to let her know that he was safe and she had only added him as a contact and liked his message. There wasn’t much more to it than that. In fact, there was nothing more to it than that.

“In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve always been so concerned with getting your sleep. You said yes because you wanted to go out with him.”

“Maybe I just wanted to look at him.”

“Same difference.” She commented, but she parted ways from Emily after a moment. Though Emily was far from unintelligent, she wasn’t nearly as gifted with storms as Kate was - nobody was as gifted with storms as Kate was. When she went somewhere, Emily knew that she was doing what she needed to do, and she knew that she was going to do it with more accuracy than any other person. Or, even any computer.

After a moment, she felt the presence of someone beside her. For a moment, she allowed warmth to fill you, because she knew from the smell of his cologne that it was Javi. But, she also noted that there was someone with him. Presumably, Scott. 

“You girls planning on pulling another stunt?”

“Only plans on my mind are a hot date with your mother.” 

“Alright, no need for that, guys.” Javi tried to be the voice of reason, but as far as Emily was concerned, the real reasonable behavior would have been keeping Scott far away from her and every other person on planet Earth since he had no interest in acting anywhere remotely normal. He was just, overall, incredibly rude. It rubbed her the wrong way, but it also rubbed her the wrong way that Javi was associating with someone like that. “We should talk about seating in the car today.” 

“What about it? 

“Well, you sat on Kate’s lap yesterday. I don’t think that was particularly safe.” 

There were only two seats in the car. The rest of the room was designated for equipment. “You saying I should stay back? Because I’m not riding with him.”

“He’s right here.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“Okay, okay. No. Not what I was saying.” Javi to place a hand on her shoulder, Emily’s eyes glancing from his hand to his face. Last night, he was just as attractive as he was now. But, in the sunlight, his freckles were easier to see, and his warm expression was far from what she had seen just a few moments ago in the diner. “I spent a little bit of time making it possible for you to sit between us, I just wanted to let you know. Okay? Are you calm?”

“I’m always calm.”

“She’s lying to you.” Kate started her from behind, but she had a pep in her step. Wherever they were going, they were doing it now. 

Emily, maybe, should have had more briefing on what sitting in the middle actually entailed. She was sitting shoulder to shoulder with both Javi and Emily since there was barely room for another person. She was harnessed in, and she couldn’t reason how this was any safer than being held by Kate. But, it was the thought that counted, and he probably wouldn’t put her in a situation that was entirely unsafe.

“If you feel like you’re insecure, let one of us know. You can share a seat with one of us, right Kate?”

“Absolutely, but I think she would be safer with you, Javi. You’re probably a little bit stronger than I am, even when you’re driving.” Kate, seemingly still giddy from whatever she had figured out, saw no harm in doing her part in setting up her two friends. Emily, however, saw that as a challenge to remain in her makeshift seat the entire time. But, she would swallow her pride if she absolutely had to. 

“Thanks for that.” Javi responded, taking the comment at what it was rather than really trying to consider what Kate was actually trying to do. Meanwhile, Emily couldn’t help but wonder if this seat was secure. She wasn’t bumping too much, it was clear that ‘a few minutes’ actually meant that he put a lot more effort into this than what he had originally let on. Still, her upper half wasn’t feeling very secure, and she was certain that she needed to at the very least keep her neck secure as to not get whiplash.

“You excited to see another tornado, Em?” Kate asked, glancing over at her. Emily smiled, but it was clear that her smile was nervous. She was excited, but she was also petrified.

“Absolutely. Terrified, but excited.”

“Don’t be terrified, just tell yourself that everything is going to be okay.” She reassured her, squeezing her hand for a moment before letting her go. Emily kept her eyes on the storm, the darkening clouds that she knew were soon going to turn into something a lot more damaging than some rain. 

For most of the journey, everything was okay. Kate was back in her element, and though she had initially been distracted by the constant feeling of Javi’s shoulder pressed against hers and the fact that she could vaguely feel the muscles in his arm working when he maneuvered with the steering wheel, she quickly became distracted by seeing her friend in a way that she had never seen her before. Kate had always been excited, but she had never gotten to see her like this before. It felt like this was natural for her, like this is where she belonged. Maybe it was, maybe it was a mistake that Kate was only agreeing to come back here for a week.

But, that intrigue into her friends mind was quickly distracted by the tornado. As much as Emily wanted to trust Javi’s driving abilities, whatever the definition of insecure was, she was certain that she was feeling it right now.

The moment it became clear that they couldn’t outrun it, she wasn’t sure what to do. She was absolutely petrified, her head down, her hand gripping onto anything and everything to give her some sort of stability. They were clearly, currently, inside of the tornado that was passing them. The loud noises on the top of the truck could either be from heavy debris, or something coming off of it. But she wasn’t sure what it was, or really what was going on, until it stopped. Well, when it stopped being on top of them. 

Her eyes slowly opened, meeting first with Javi’s. In her haste to grab something for stability, she must have ended up grabbing onto his hand (that and the gear shift beside her, she was grateful, at least, that she didn’t switch it into drive). 

“You okay, for this being your second tornado and all?” 

“I think so. Are we alive?”

“We’re alive.”

“Then I’m okay, probably.” She replied, slowly letting go of his hand. She really didn’t want to. It made her feel safer to have something to hold onto, but she knew that they were no longer in harms way. If they were in harms way to begin with, since they had survived what had happened without a scratch on their bodies. “But they won’t be.”

“Who?”

“It’s going toward a town, we need to help them.” Kate interjected, and it was clear to Emily just how serious this was based upon the way that Kate had paid no mind to her friends holding hands. It had been a heat of the moment thing, it would be wrong to tease her for it - but she knew under any other circumstance, Kate would have. But this took precedent over that, this was important. Because those people might not make it, and as cute as she found him, Emily certainly didn’t like the way that Javi valued his equipment over going somewhere that needed them to be there. 

Emily wanted to believe that Javi’s decision to help the people in the town who were going to be recovering from the storm was based upon his own desire to help people in need. Some part of her wondered if it had more to do with the fact that he felt like he needed Kate’s skills to help him, the fact that he had two people sitting beside him looking at him incredulously and pressuring him into doing the right thing. But she also couldn’t help but wonder if his apprehension about helping had less to do with himself, and more to do with the man who was sitting across from him and his obnoxiously rude friend. 

Anyone investing in any company is expecting a return, it’s the fundamental of business. What return was that man getting? In an ideal world, the desire to help people would be enough - but Bruce Wayne didn’t happen to be a majority of wealthy investors in the real world, and she was almost certain that a man who brought along company like a callous person like Scott was looking for some sort of financial return. The equipment Javi had was expensive, and she had seen the way he looked at that diner. But she chose to ignore it for a time being, they had more important things to worry about than her unfounded conspiracy theories. 

By the time they had arrived in the town, it was too late to do much other than help people recover. Emily had never seen a town after a tornado first hand, she had only seen the videos of it at work, on the news, on her phone. Everything through a screen that disconnected her from it personally, and made it impersonal in a sense. 

Seeing this in person, seeing rooms from people’s houses that were once covered, that they could have raised families in, ruined up close invoked a feeling in her that she couldn’t quite put a name on. That feeling was what led her to spend almost an hour speaking with an older woman in a rain covered wooden chair in her now roofless kitchen. Though she felt remiss not out there, not cleaning up, she didn’t quite realize what help she was giving to the woman who was able to have a conversation, to speak to someone interested in her story, to distract her from the financial struggle she was going to have to endure - from the struggle she was going to have with insurance companies over the phone for the coming weeks, and how she was going to have to leave this place in which she raised her entire family for a time. Even when she came back, no matter how much the insurance companies and contractors tried to make it the same as it was, those memories were never going to fully be repaired. 

At some point, Emily parted with the older woman and joined the rest of the people outside. Cleaning up houses, giving extra care to people’s photo albums and scrapbooks, helping them to salvage any food that wasn’t sucked up into the tornado or ruined by the rain. She even had the privilege of helping rescue a kitten from the debris, something that she often tried not to think about when researching storms since the toll on animals was something that made her heart ache. She remembered the stories from the famous Joplin tornado, the pain that the cows must have endured - animals were a sore spot, so it made her heart warm to be able to help one, to be able to return the kitten to the little girl who was worried sick on the sidewalk hoping beyond all hope that her beloved pet was okay.

Being involved in something like this in person was wholly different than it was just seeing it on the television. She ended up getting a ride back to the motel early into the evening, and quickly passing out from exhaustion from having worked so hard. The only thing on her mind as she went to sleep was how different it was, and how she truly felt as though she was making more of a difference here than she ever could have from her cushy office in Manhattan. In Manhattan, she was so disconnected from it all - so desensitized - that most people saw storms like these as an outlandish nightmare. On top of that, thy tended to see the victims of them as more of a number, than a person. That wasn’t their fault, they had no face to place upon them. But she did, now. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was going to feel more satisfied doing something like this, volunteering to help people in the most need, than she was sitting in an office and researching weather patterns. 

When she woke up, it was to the sound of someone pounding on her door. 

Emily bolted up, thinking that someone was trying to break in - maybe this place really was unsafe? But it was in that moment that she grabbed her phone, going to dial 9-1-1 before realizing that she had missed a number of messages from Javi and, somehow, a tornado watch that had shifted into a warning. 

Moving quickly, she opened her door and put her shoes on as quickly as possible, the panicked shouts of her friend signaling her to follow him. Moving to grab a coat, he took her hand and quickly gave him the one that he was wearing. The only thing she had time to pick up was her wallet as she followed him down to his car.

“How did you sleep through that?” 

“I don’t know!” 

“I tried to get Kate, I can’t find her. We have to move, okay?”

“Alright, okay.”

Emily has no recollection of there being a storm predicted for that night, but that was just the thing: tornadoes could be unpredictable. It was the most unpredictable, the nocturnal ones that were the most difficult to see coming, that she knew were the most dangerous. It felt like there was some sort of being creeping up on them - they knew that it was there, lurking in the night, but they just weren’t sure where exactly it was until it was too late. 

Javi’s car was rather strong, so she felt safe in it. But she also knew that no amount of strength could prevent the damage an especially strong tornado could cause. She just trusted that he knew what he was doing - after all, he had been living through things like this for seemingly his entire life. Assuredly, he knew where he was going.

“Isn’t this Scott’s car?”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything. Scott didn’t seem like an overly emotional person, and he also didn’t seem to care much about other people. It didn’t surprise her that he hadn’t cared enough to come along with Javi, but it almost made her wonder what he was doing instead. She was certain that, wherever he was, it was somewhere safe. But, what motivations did he have for whatever it was that he was doing. Some part of her didn’t want to know, she was certain that there was something about him that she just couldn’t trust. 

“You okay?” 

Emily’s silence must have been a worry for Javi, but she knew that he interpreted it in a way other than her thinking about what was actually on her mind. She was worried about the tornado, but in some weird way, she was calmed because she trusted that Javi wouldn’t have snatched her up in the middle of the night if he didn’t think she would be safer with him. She was certain that he believed that her silence was her worrying about the storm, when in reality it was her worrying that there was something about him that she should be privy to before she decides to trust him entirely, at this point.

“Where was Kate?”

“I was hoping she would have been with you.” 

It was odd, because Emily had no idea where Kate would have been if not with either her or Javi. Well, maybe she had some idea. Kate had seemingly been talking to Owens more than she should have been, maybe she was with him. That was the only other place where she could think of that she would have been, but even that didn’t bring her peace. What if the man was being reckless? What if he brought her on a nighttime chase? 

“Hey, we’ll find her, okay? We’ll go back to the motel when the storm ends.” He had stopped the car at this point, pulling into a place that gave you both a bit more coverage. A place that, he seemed to believe or know, was out of the path of the storm. Her eyes locked on his, taking in the way that he looked in that moment. He was tired, but he still looked more energetic than he first had when she saw him in the morning. She wanted to trust him, she wanted to not be worried that there was something lurking under the surface that she just didn’t know about, but it was difficult for her to do so without answers.

“Who was that guy this morning?”

“An investor, I told-”

“Yeah, but like… what’s he gaining? I don’t live that far from Wall Street, I know the type.” Emily felt bad asking him this. He had gotten her out of a dangerous situation, stuck his neck out for her when he had only just met her. She liked Javi, she trusted that he had no intention of doing anything to hurt her. But, she also knew the type to fall victim to financial traps. If he wanted to do what he did professionally, he needed investors, and if he happened to have someone who supported his project - maybe he just felt like he had no other choice. Having no other choice, just following orders, doesn’t absolve him of any wrongdoing. But, some part of her still doesn’t want to believe that there’s something inherently wrong with Javi. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

He was silent for a moment, regarding her in a way that told her what she already knew - she had crossed a line. But he kept his eyes on her, his soft, warm eyes that made her want to stay here forever. But she had to remind herself that she didn’t know this man. That her little crush was nothing more than that, a little crush. 

“He buys properties from people, he helps them rebuild.” There was a tone of defeat in his voice, but it also felt like that line was rehearsed. He knew that one of you was going to ask at one point, but he also seemed ashamed of it. He was doing what he was doing because he had to. He had to do this, there was no other way for him to fund his project. While the first part of his sentence seemed correct, the second part seemed entirely like course correction. The man bought the properties of victims, but it was clear it wasn’t to help the town rebuild or even to financially help the victims. He supported the chases because he wanted to be first on the scene, to make it appear that he was a caring guy. He wanted to make that money, to own the most land. He wanted to turn other people’s tragedies into a profit.

Emily wanted to say something in response, but she could see the defeat on Javi’s face. The worry in his eyes. Mainly, she wanted to help him get out of that situation, but she wasn’t sure how. Instead, she opted to change the subject.

“I like it here, you know. Helping those people today… I really wanted to make a difference tracking storms, but I was just one person in a sea of people and I really wasn’t doing anything meaningful.” She had made some progress. She mainly enjoyed leading groups of people around the place, groups of students who struggled to understand what a tornado even was. She liked helping people, that gave her a greater sense of fulfillment than any paycheck she had ever received. But it didn’t much matter, not in this economy. She had bills to pay, and she couldn’t just go without a job because she wanted to serve the greater good - how long would that last without gas money or a roof over her head? “I like most of the people I’ve met here.”

Javi’s eyes lit up for a second, because for the first time since they had started interacting, she was positive that she had actually gone through with flirting with him. He had picked up on it, noticed it. He would be naive to not realize what she was doing, and that was enough to distract him from their previous conversation. But it wasn’t enough to distract either of them from the sound of the tornado that was getting closer to them.

Emily could feel her heartbeat picking up, her eyes focusing on the mirrors in the car but knowing that she wasn’t going to be able to see anything. It was too dark, if she could see the tornado itself, that meant that she was probably not going to be seeing much after that.

Picking up on her nerves, she watched as Javi offered his hand. It was odd, really. She had only just met him, but she knew she felt more comfortable with him than she should. He made her feel safer, made her feel a whole lot less afraid of the impending storm. Reaching over, she took ahold of his hand and kept her eyes locked on the mirror. Lights in the distance were knocked out, lights that were getting closer and closer to her. At some point, she was certain that she had a tough grip on Javi’s hand, but he didn’t stop her. If it hurt him, he didn’t show it. 

By the time they were certain it was over, there was only one thing on either of their minds: finding Kate. 

Emily moved to let go of Javi’s hand, but stalled for a moment. She liked the feeling of his hand in hers, and since she was so nervous that they weren’t even going to find Kate, she almost didn’t want to let go because of that. Maybe they were both scared, maybe that was why he decided to drive with one hand so she could keep holding onto him. Javi would tell himself that he was doing it solely for Emily’s comfort, because he knew that she had to be scared since this was a whole new experience for her. But, he knew that he was doing it for himself, too. As much as he wanted to deny it, since he really hadn’t made any moves to commit to a relationship with anyone or act on any attraction he felt in quite some time, he couldn’t deny that he felt a mutual attraction toward Kate’s friend.

It was Kate herself who brought it up, Kate who put the idea into his mind when she noticed that he had been looking at her for a little too long. Kate, too, who pushed him to bring Emily to dinner with him the night before rather than going with him herself. She wasn’t sure what her motives were entirely, since they all knew that Emily didn’t live in Oklahoma, but that that didn’t mean that they couldn’t… well, they really weren’t doing anything at all. Javi saw that look in Emily’s eyes when he admitted just a piece of what his investors actually do. Once she sees it in action, once she does her own research, she’ll want nothing to do with him. Hell, she might want nothing to do with him the second they both find Kate. 

Those worries don’t stop them, though. Her fingers that had started to loosen from his hand maintaining a firm grip once she realized that he wasn’t going to force her to let go. If he had to have both hands to drive because of debris, he would, but she also needed to keep in mind that he was acclimated to this. 

When they did, eventually, find Kate Emily was left with a question. Kate left without much notice, and as much as Emily wanted to follow her, she didn’t feel that it would be right to do so. This was something that she needed to do on her own, some journey that she needed to go on to cope with what had happened. If Emily went with her, she knew she would be intruding. But, she also knew that it looked like she was choosing Javi over her, not only that, but that she condoned what it was clear to both of them that he was doing to support his business that wasn’t really helping anyone at all. While that wasn’t at all what she was doing, she knew that’s what it looked like. Still, she had no one else to go with, so she stayed. She stayed even though she would rather eat dirt than spend more time with Scott than she needed to. She didn’t really know the stormchasers that Kate had gotten acquainted with, even though she knew that they seemed to actually have a vested interest in helping people.

Perhaps, then, her path toward helping people could be a little bit different. She wasn’t naive, she was sure that there were a number of factors that drove Javi to continue supporting the businessman he worked for - the businessman who took every storm he could to cash in on people’s lives being ruined. She was also sure that he wasn’t going to change his ways because she - someone who he had only just met - insisted that ‘this isn’t you’, and ‘you need to worry about the greater good, it’s in your heart’. Emily has no idea what’s in his heart, but if she can try to convince him in some way that what he’s doing is wrong, Storm Par can’t function on the capacity that it is without him. If that’s the case, maybe the people who actually are helping won’t have so many people that need as much help as they do. Maybe her journey could simply be trying her best to encourage Javi - the only one she imagines isn’t too far gone - in the opposite direction without being too outwardly clear about her motivations. 

Sleep doesn’t come quite as easily for Emily that night as it hand earlier in the day, or even as it had the night before. Eventually, her mind stops racing and she’s able to get some sleep. 

Woken up at roughly nine in the morning to the sound of someone knocking on her door, she squints at the light coming in from the doorway as she opens it to find Javi standing before her once again.

“Starting to think you don’t own pajamas.”

“I just didn’t think about it.” She commented, glancing down at what she had fallen asleep in. She quickly removes the jacket that she had been wearing, the one that he gave her when she was rushed out of her room the night before. Handing it too him, she feels instant relief from the humidity coming from outside of her room. “Give me like twenty minutes, I’ll be ready to go to… where are we going?”

“Actually, I think you should stay back today.”

“I’d rather not.” 

“You saw a lot yesterday, you almost died twice.” 

As nice as the sentiment sounded, she knew that it wasn’t genuine. Javi, if he wasn’t so concerned with his finances and shady donors, would have been rightfully concerned that Emily had almost died and seen so much after having seen no tornadoes ever in her life before. But, she knew that there was something that he was hiding.

“I also just don’t want to force you to be around Scott.”

“Well, you’re not forcing me. I want to come.” 

“Kate has my car too, I have no where for you to sit.” 

“I’ll sit with the equipment.” 

He contemplated for a moment, but shook his head. “I don’t think that’s safe.” 

“Okay, you said I could share a seat with you.”

“Not safe-”

“You don’t trust me, I get it. But I came here for a week, I paid for a flight, I paid for this motel room, and I’m getting my money’s worth.” 

Javi desperately wanted to say no, but agreed regardless of what he wanted. If you were going to insist upon coming, you were going to insist upon coming. He couldn’t simply tell you no, it would only make you distrust him more. Some part of him wondered if it even mattered if you distrusted him. If Kate wanted nothing to do with him, what did her friend who he barely knew actually matter? But those thoughts were the rude, uncaring thoughts that he knew that the people surrounding him carried in their hearts. That fear alone, that fear of turning into them and forgetting how to use his heart, was enough to make him give her what she was asking for. 

“Fine, you can come.” 

“Thank you, Javi. Let me get dressed, and if you leave without me just know that I’ll track you down.” 

“Noted, I won’t leave without you.”

Shutting the door, Emily started getting dressed while trying to figure out what her exact game plan here was. She knew that she could really say anything to change Javi’s mind, but she also knew that she needed to do something. What he was doing was more dangerous than she felt he recognized, the people supporting him went against everything that Kate had told her that he stood for. 

Kate. Right.

Checking her phone, Emily opened it to find a missed call from Kate that was followed by a text message. Checking out of the window to ensure that Javi was waiting down stairs and out of earshot, she called her back. It only took one ring for her to pick up, instantly bombarding her with a question of if she was okay.

“I’m fine, I’m- that’s why I’m calling you, I’m worried.”

“I’m okay, Kate.” She reassured her.

“I’m worried that you- let me just give you directions to my mom’s farm, you can come here. Javi- he’s not what he used to be, he’s not who he used to be.”

“That’s why I stayed.” She admitted, setting the phone call to speaker phone as she continued to get dressed. “What he’s doing is hurting a lot more people than just himself.”

“You don’t think you can change his mind, do you?”

“With enough effort-”

“Em, you just met him.”

“It’s not about him… entirely.” It was, predominantly, not about him. There was one sliver of Emily that believed it was, because she wanted better for him, because she had recognized that she enjoyed helping people and he needed some help. And, yes, because her kind of wanted to kiss him. But, that small sliver was not the largest part of her reasoning. “If he keeps doing this, more people are going to get hurt when they don’t need to so some old man can make a buck. It’s awful, Kate. I don’t- I don’t think he’s a bad person, I think he’s just working with bad people. I think he’s the only one who may change his mind.”

“What’s your plan then?”

“Not sure, working on it.”

“Em-”

“I’m not telling you that I can fix him, I’m just saying that I think I need to try to help. If just one town suffers a little bit less because of me, I’ll be satisfied. I’ve done nothing in the last five years but silently watch things happen, I need to do this.” 

Silence was what you heard on the other line, before you heard a sigh. A sigh that you knew all too well from Kate. “I trust you, but don’t blame me if Javi is unfixable.” 

“I’ll have nobody to blame but him.”

“Okay, stay safe out there.”

“You too.” 

With that, Emily finished getting dressed before meeting Javi downstairs. Though she could feel his glare, she avoided making eye contact with Scott as she climbed into the back of the car with the equipment.

“Sure you wouldn’t rather share a seat?” Javi seemed genuinely considered, eyeing her harnessless torso. She merely shrugged, there were no massive storms predicted for the day, so she doubted that she was going to be in as much danger as she had been. 

“I’ll be okay.”

“You could always have her stay back, if you’re so concerned.”

“She’s coming with us.” Javi didn’t pay Scott’s comment much mind, and Emily did her best to ignore it as well as she found a position in the back that felt comfortable enough. She wasn’t fully sure where she were going, she just knew that she was going to be a part of it one way or another. Maybe it was a good sign toward progress that Javi had ignored Scott asking him to insist Emily stay back, or, maybe he had just already conceded his protests and didn’t want to have the same conversation with her again.

What Emily couldn’t have predicted, even though she spent the entire car ride trying to predict and plot things, was that Javi would end up driving to Kate’s farm that Emily had said that she wouldn’t accompany her at. Maybe that was why he didn’t want her to come, because he knew that the conversation between the two of them wouldn’t go well and he knew that Emily was going to be upset about it. But, as upset as she was about it, she kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t until Javi motioned for her to follow him to the car that Kate had borrowed, that she finally got out of the awkwardly silent car she had been in alone with Scott for a few moments to follow him to the other car. 

Though she wanted to consider changing her mind for a moment, Javi had done Kate a small favor. Kate, in turn, seemed to have a more understanding expression on her face of Emily’s efforts. Granted, Emily didn’t think she had done anything to change his mind, nor did Kate. She could, however, see the tiny bit of light that was still inside of him. Maybe Emily’s idea wasn’t that far-fetched, but neither of them could be too sure about that. 

Taking the passenger seat, Emily watched as Javi spoke with Scott on the phone. 

“He’s taking that car back, do you want to get lunch?”

“But what about…” She motioned upwards, the sky becoming grayer than it had been for most of the ride there. 

“We have about two hours before that, and the ride back isn’t that long. Do you want to work on an empty stomach?” 

Emily was a tad surprised. He was inviting her to lunch, he was sending Scott back specifically so they would have lunch alone. She thought about saying no, believing that might be a step too far. But she almost wanted it to be a step too far, especially as she looked at the hopeful expression in those bright eyes of his. She couldn’t deny that she found Javi attractive, she knew that from the moment she met him. But she also knew that she was supposed to leave this place, that she was supposed to go back to Manhattan, that she was supposed to be doing this to make Storm Par less of a threat to the general public because of the creepy, shadowy donors that operated behind the scenes. 

She was supposed to be responsible, not just on time - but early. But that was why she never had much luck with romance, wasn’t it? She never had time for it, never had time for the distraction of it. She knew there was a storm coming, she knew that they were going to be in a time crunch, and all of her sensibilities were telling her to say no because it was what she had been doing when it came to desire for her entire life. Instead, Emily simply smiled and agreed to go to lunch with him. It, honestly, felt a bit freeing to do what she wanted (even if for only a short amount of time) rather than what she knew was wanted of her. 

Besides, going to lunch with Javi gave her more time to talk to him. Emily had a lot of questions that weren’t being answered when she was surrounded by people that he worked with, he almost seemed like a different person when it was just the two of them. Maybe that was just the way that he was, some men did seem like entirely different people when they were around their friends. But, for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to think that was the case. Javi was easy to talk to, easy to be around. She liked speaking to him, and as much as she wanted to think logically and consider her plan, some part of her was screaming at her to just enjoy the fact that the guy she had found attractive at first glance wanted to go to lunch with her. Even if his reasoning was different from hers, it was at least nice since it was something she didn’t participate in a lot back in New York. Some part of her, as much as she wanted to deny it, really didn’t want to go back to New York.

Once they got to the small diner that they were going to eat at, Javi was quick to hold the door for her. She hadn’t even really seen him get to the door, so how he had moved that quickly while she was getting out of the car was beyond her. Still, she didn’t think about it too much. She couldn’t, since she was focused on the five seconds that he had his hand on her mid-back to guide her in to the restaurant. It was polite, but it made them look like a couple to onlookers. Even with that in mind, she couldn’t bring herself to mind. 

Sitting down across from him, they both ordered something simple before he finally started really talking to her. 

“So, you said yesterday that you were thinking about leaving the city.”

“I did say that.”

“Still thinking about it? Or did some sleep change your mind?” There was almost a hopefulness in his eyes, like he had a particular answer that he wanted her to say but wasn’t willing to push for it. He really couldn’t push for it, since they had only just met recently. 

“I’m still thinking about it, I didn’t really have time to look into… work.” She replied, honestly. 

“You seemed to put up with Scott that whole car ride so, uh- offer- offer stands.” 

“I didn’t remember there being an offer to begin with.” She replied, but she couldn’t deny the way her breath hitched. “You want me to stay?” Her voice was quiet, hopeful. She wanted him to want her to stay, but him wanting her to stay could be a bad thing. It meant a lot more than she wanted to admit, but she wasn’t sure how to deny that it would make her happy if he did. 

“I… yeah, I want you to stay.” Javi didn’t seem like he wanted to say that, but not because it wasn’t true. He did want her to stay, he wasn’t sure exactly why. He liked being around her, he found her attractive, he thought she was intelligent, and she was kind enough to not hate him after finding out some of the things about him that he wasn’t even sure why he told her. But, he also barely knew her. Asking her to uproot her entire life was insane, but he wasn’t really asking. He was leaving it on the table since she said she wanted something new, wasn’t that the kind thing to do? “I just don’t want you to miss out on doing what you want to do because of money.” 

He knew that feeling well, rejecting his own wants, desires, morals - rejecting his own heart and soul for money, because that was the one thing that kept him where he was. He didn’t want that for her, he didn’t want her to feel like she was under the thumb of some corporation where she didn’t feel like she was doing anything productive, where she really didn’t want to be, just because of money. He wanted much more for her. Plus, they were in the same boat with romance. He had waited, wanted, hoped for something. But he could never give anyone the time of day. 

Back in college, he wasn’t exactly a catch. Constantly sleeping, eating hot chips first thing in the morning like it was a normal breakfast, he was incredibly lazy. As he got older, he was less lazy. He worked hard to be where he was, but because of how hard he had to work, he didn’t have time for romance. He wasn’t sure yet if he wanted to date this girl, he barely knew her. But he knew that he felt drawn to her, and he knew that- well, he didn’t know. He wasn’t confident enough to make a move, he didn’t know if there was a point in trying to pursue someone who was just going to leave. Long distance was one thing when you’re a train or car ride away, but a plane? If she stayed, maybe he would be able to gain the confidence to try. 

“I just need to think about it, but don’t think I’m brushing you off. Okay? It’s just a big decision.” Truthfully, her mind was in the same precious position. She didn’t have the confidence to make a move, but if he did make a move, she would stay. At least, she would think about it a lot harder. Maybe extend her trip to consider her options in this situation for longer than she had at present. 

“No, I get it. It’s your whole life.” 

She hummed in agreement, taking a sip of her coffee. “You should tell me more about life around here, you know, so I can consider it a little bit better.”

It was clear that she was talking more about his life than just life in Oklahoma, and he had no issue picking up on that. Nor did he have any issue telling her about his life, his interests, his hobbies, his sort of perpetual loneliness since he was constantly on the road and didn’t really have time to be tied down by friendships or relationships. She was delighted to learn more about him, and in turn shared a pretty similar story. Well, a similar story in the sense that they were both, ultimately, rather alone. The key difference being the fact that Emily was surrounded by people, where Oklahoma was pretty quiet. She was stationary and remained lonely, but he was lonely because he wasn’t stationary. A part of her brain felt like there could be middle ground there if they wanted to continue working together, but she also had a fear of his company looming in the background.

Javi had built Storm Par, it was his baby and she couldn’t blame him for being proud of it. But, she also understood that his baby needed funding, and his funding was coming from people who were manipulating it to use other people’s suffering for their gain. There was some moral inadequacy in a person who was willing to do something like that just to keep a company afloat, but she also understood why. This, also, could be a part of how he was coping with everything that he was going through with the loss of his friends. Maybe he felt like it was the right thing, or maybe he had never really coped with it and didn’t feel much at all - let alone remorse. 

Actually getting to know him made it different, though. She didn’t feel equipped to judge him for the things that he had done, even though she couldn’t help it. Even if he had some terrible skeletons in his closet, she couldn’t help but notice the difference in the way he acted when he wasn’t around Scott and his investor versus when he was. He was calmer, more normal, and just as dorky as Kate had described to her.

Truthfully, even though he had been a bit messy in the pictures that Kate did show her (which wasn’t many, since the memories were rather painful for her), she had always thought he was cute. She never really imagined that she was ever going to be face to face with him, let alone that they were going to be sitting at a diner without the company of anyone else. Talking about their lives, about their ambitions, about their hopes and dreams and their stark lack of romance and lasting friendships besides Kate, who Emily had become friends with after Javi had left the picture. She never quite realized that they would have anything in common at all, judging by what Kate had told her about him. They did have a lot in common though, that’s what made it so easy for her to talk to him even though she had a crush that she wished she had an easier time ignoring. 

By the time that they left, they left with a closer relationship. She couldn’t ignore the slight fluttering in her stomach walking alongside him, feeling the back of his hand brush against hers for just a moment before he noticed it and moved it into his pocket. His personality was easy to mesh with, and his smile made her a little bit weak at the knees. She was a lot more confident going in to this storm, knowing that she could trust Javi even though she knew that she really couldn’t trust a single one of his friends. Since she had been in a few storms at this point, she doubted that this one was going to be any different. 

At first, it wasn’t that different. They both arrived back together, her mind lingering on the momentary touches and the look in his eyes. The way he smiled, the way that it made her heart flutter like a teenager getting asked to prom. She was almost giddy, even though she knew that they were both about to do something difficult - something incredibly dangerous. Still, she reasoned, he knew what he was doing and the rest of the team did too. She didn’t feel like she was in danger at first, she didn’t think the tornado was going to be that much of a risk. It wasn’t forecasted to be that much of a risk, so she was a lot calmer than she had been the previous days. Sure, maybe that calm was coming from her eyes continuing to linger on Javi, or the fact that his eyes continued to linger on him to. Even if that was the cause, it didn’t matter, because she did feel calmer… at first. 

But Scott was pushing harder than he maybe should have been. While Emily felt secure in the back with the equipment for a few moments, she found herself gripping onto anything she could find to keep herself from flying around. It wasn’t until everyone was screaming and worried that Javi shouted at her, insisting that she get in the front seat with him. Being a whole lot more willing to sacrifice her pride and sit on his lap than get whiplash or break her neck, she quickly obliged and climbed into the front seat. 

The belt wasn’t really built for two people, but it just barely fit over them. Just like she just barely got into the front in time. Judging by how the car jerked and the heavy machinery in the backseat flew with it, she knew that she was seconds away from having her head smashed against the wall. 

Somehow, that wasn’t the worst of it. There was no escaping this tornado, not with the vehicle flipped over. Emily’s calm was gone an an instant, but she wasn’t screaming in fear. She had only been so paralyzed with fear that she couldn’t get words out one time in her life before, but this was another one of those instances. She was barely remembering to breathe, let alone speak, or scream. She was certain that her face was coated in sweat and tears, but absolutely nothing was coming out of her throat.

The only confirmation that Javi had that she was still conscious was her strong grip on his arm, her wide eyes focused ahead as she considered all of the things that she had never gotten the chance to do. She had never gone to one of those balls that she wanted to go to as a child, in a big fancy gown with someone on her arm - granted, she had never had anyone to bring. She had never gotten a promotion beyond her yearly pay raise and being raised up from a junior employee to a regular employee with little added benefit. She had never learned what it was that made Kate want to talk to her. She’d never ridden a horse, only sat on an NYPD horse when she was in elementary school and got scolded for trying to make it move. She had never gone to Europe, constantly being too busy with school or work to even consider something like that. But, she also couldn’t help her thoughts from lingering. She had never been in an adult relationship, unless her college flings constituted as ‘adult’. She had never kissed the man who was also currently, seemingly, about to die with her. She really wanted to kiss Javi - unfortunately for her. 

Somewhat fortunately, Javi knew in that moment that he also definitely wanted to kiss her too. Whether that was a cruel fate or it was going to end up being a beautiful coincidence if they made it out, neither of them knew for sure until eventually - by some miracle - they were able to escape within an inch of their lives. 

While her and Javi insisted that it was important that they go help the people in the town who were about to be dealing with this absolute monster of a storm, Scott didn’t seem too convinced. In fact, he out right stated that he didn’t care about them. Now, she knew that is Javi agreed with him, if he was okay with what he was hearing from him, he might be too far gone. Just as he seemed to be doing the thing she feared he was going to do, he turned the car on as fast as possible and drove away. She doubted that his decision had much to do with her, but she was grateful for it regardless. Grateful, because he was freeing himself from the shackles of the people who had given her any apprehensions about him in the first place.

“Is it safe for me to have my own seat?”

“If you trust my driving.” 

“You’ve steered us well so far.” 

Emily moved over to the other seat, letting him adjust his buckle and buckling herself in. She wanted to say something, because with that realization that she really wanted to kiss him and the fact that the small apprehension she had about trusting him was now gone, she just really, really could not get the idea of kissing him out of her mind. They had almost died, and by some luck, they were alive. She knew she couldn’t take that for granted, but she also knew that right now was not the right moment. There were real people in danger, and every second mattered. Asking him to pull over or drive recklessly wasn’t a good idea, and it certainly wasn’t the idea that she could make without worrying. Plus, she still had no idea if the feeling was mutual. 

Arriving in the town itself was arriving into chaos, but the amount of people who had no idea what to do told her that they had made the right call. While these people, having lived in tornado alley for presumably at least a little bit of time, had to have experienced a natural disaster before, it was clear that they have never experienced one this strong. Emily had never experienced one this strong before either, but she knew that she couldn’t think about that right now. Not when she could see Kate, struggling to get someone out from underneath a fallen water tower. It had to have been Tyler Owens, she was certain.

Rushing out of the vehicle, Javi grabbed something that he could use to give leverage to them while Emily joined Kate in trying to get Tyler out. In the knick of time, they were able to get him out from under the water tower and into the movie theater. The theater itself, though, was old. The structure of it certainly wasn’t built to outlast this storm, but that didn’t mean there was no where to go. Splitting up, she ran to find somewhere that could lead to a basement, to no avail. Meeting up with Javi and Tyler again, she found that nobody could locate a basement. Guilt filled her more than fear, because she had helped lead people to believe that this theater was a save place to be when in reality it was no safer than being outside. At least, not much safer than being outside. 

That guilt was quickly forgotten when she realized, like the others, that Kate was not with them. Kate had mentioned very little of her past, but she had explained what she had been experimenting on to Emily a long time ago. That was what made her trust her in the first place. She wasn’t in this because she wanted to, some day, be on the television reporting the weather. She wasn’t doing this because she wanted a pay raise, or even just because she found it interesting. She was doing it because she wanted to help people, but right now, that desire to help people was going to get her killed.

Emily’s heart told her to run after her, but her mind rejected it. She needed to survive, they all did. 

Rushing back in the theater, nobody was given much time before they were all gripping onto a the seats in the theater for dear life. If she had been worried about dying before, she was petrified now. This time she wasn’t paralyzed in fear, her hands were gripping the chair as tightly as she possibly could manage, her screams being absorbed into the army of screams and the loud storm looming just outside. Chairs were being taken, more and more rows of chairs that were leaving her wondering if she was next. If it wasn’t her, what about Javi? She wasn’t even sure where he had went, she had been so hasty in grabbing onto a chair that she didn’t keep track of him. Was he still alive? Was she?

Just as she felt her death-grip beginning to loosen, the wind slowed down. She couldn’t be too sure if she was safe until she felt herself able to move her elbow. Getting up, her first instinct was to look for Javi. She had nearly died enough times without kissing that man in one day, and she certainly wasn’t going to run the risk of doing it again.

After a moment, she found him. 

As it would seem, he had the same idea that she did. The moment that they reached each other his hand was on her cheek, his thumb pressed against her chin to tilt her face towards him. She gripped onto his shirt, pulling him closer as their lips melded together. They were out of breath, soaking wet, and barely even positive that they had actually survived at this point. But the kiss was grounding, it was grounding, but it was enchanting. She was nearly mesmerized by the feeling of his lips against hers, the feeling of his warm hand pressed against her wet cheek.

For just a brief moment, she allowed herself to forget about the chaos outside, slowly pulling apart from him only to let him rest his forehead against hers. She had been through a lot, and it was a lot more of a thrill than she was even remotely used to. But even with that, she knew in her heart what the right choice was.

“I don’t know if your company is still operational, but I want to stay.” 

“I want you to stay, you don’t need to worry about- don’t worry about housing. I’ve got you, I promise I’ve got you. Just- please stay.” 

She leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his mouth. “I’m staying, I won’t leave you.”

While she wanted to stay there kissing him forever, to continue to be close to him, she couldn’t. They both needed to find Kate, and with the help of Tyler, they found her relatively quickly. She was battered and bruised, but she was alive. She was alive, and she was smiling. With a breath of relief, Emily sent her friend a thumbs up when - even in her slightly out-of-it state - she raised an eyebrow at her holding hands with Javi. Despite all of the stress, despite all of the moving parts that still existed, Emily knew that everything was going to be okay. 

When the week was over, Emily and Kate were both at the airport, but only one of them was ready to board a flight.

“You really should be paying me for packing your stuff for you.” 

“I told you my cousin could do it, Kate.” Emily reminded her, a smile covering her face regardless. “And, I’m sorry, who was the one who insisted that it would be ‘really cool’ if I dated her friend? I’m thinking that was you.” 

“Your cousin is a shit packer, I’ll do it.” She responded, glancing back toward the car. She didn’t miss the gaze that Javi had on her friend, a warm smile covering her face. “And it is really cool, you’re good for each other.”

“I know, I really like him.” She admitted, before sending her own curious glance toward Tyler. “What about you and your cowboy? Sure you don’t want to stay with him?”

“My cowboy, give me a break.”

“He’s definitely your cowboy, and he’s coming this way! See you soon.” Emily’s voice came out in a sing-songy tone, giving her friend a final hug before getting into the car with Javi. “He’s definitely her cowboy, look at him. Like a puppy watching his owner leave. Think he’s gonna work up the courage to ask her out?”

“He’s gotta.” She watched their interaction, watched the way that it almost seemed like Tyler would give in and go without her. Thankfully, though, he didn’t. A grin covered her face as she watched them, as she finally got to see her friend recover from what she had gone through. “Attaboy.”

“So… does everyone come out of storms in a relationship? I hadn’t heard of that before this week.”

“Just the really, really cool people.” He leaned forward, her smile not fading from her lips as she closed the gap and pressed her lips against his. Javi brought his hand to rest on the back of her neck, his own lips in a smile as he kissed her making the kiss feel a bit messier than the one before. She sighed into it, no longer bothering to ignore the warm and fuzzy feeling in her chest. 

Leaving New York had originally been a big risk, filled with nothing but curiosity and unresolved questions. Emily never could have imagined that it would have ended with her finally finding someone who she deeply cared about, someone who she was willing to move her entire life around for, someone who she was willing to almost die in storms with once in a while. But she did, and that’s all that really matters to her now. No moving parts, no apprehensions, the only thing she can truly bring herself to care about is the peace that she’s managed to find in situation that can be described as anything other than peaceful.

[literaryavenger]

Stargazing

Summary: You and Bucky are spending some time together under the stars.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Warnings: None, just a whole lot of fluff. Nerd Bucky. Nerd Reader. No use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word count: 1K because I'll kick myself I can't make anything short.

Prompt: we're sitting on your roof at midnight and you're pointing out every constellation but out of every star, you shine the brightest.

A/N: I wrote this story in like two hours, so bear with me. I don't know a lot about Astronomy, so I googled everything I put on here. I do know my fair share of Mythology but I realise some things may be wrong or just simply different from things you know, who knows Mythology knows there are a lot of versions of the same story, anything I wrote here are the version I've learned over the years, so no hate, but I'm always open to talk about it more if anyone wants to. Always respectfully, of course. Also, I wrote and posted this from my phone so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes.

Masterlist

“And see those three stars that make an angle?” Bucky points up to them. “That's Coma Berenices.”

One thing not many people know about Bucky Barnes is his love of Astronomy.

Back in the 40s he loved studying the constellations, learning as much as he could. So, after he regained control of his mind and joined the Avengers, he spends his free time catching up in all things space related he's missed since.

You have never been particularly interested in Astronomy, but seeing how passionate your boyfriend gets when it comes to it, you can never say no when he asks you to stargaze with him.

That's why you've spent countless times now in the position you are right now: Laying on a blanket next to Bucky on the roof of the Avengers Compound, looking at the stars and listening to him tell you all about them.

“That one's Cassiopeia…” He points to it. “That one's Lacerta…”

You giggle a little at the funny name and look at him. “Lacerta?”

“It means ‘the Lizard’.” He informs you with a grin while looking at you too.

“Of course it does.” You say playfully and look back up.

“That one is Camelopardalis…” He traces the stars to give you an idea of the shape.

“Now you're just making things up.” You tease him while looking back at his face to find him glaring playfully at you.

“It means giraffe.” He says matter-of-factly.

“Alright, you little geek.” You smile at his indignified scoff but you can see he's fighting a smile, and losing.

You look at each other with goofy smiles for a moment before you softly say, “What else?” prompting him to go on.

He looks back at the stars for a moment before he starts tracing another constellation.

That's something Bucky loves to do, like the most intricate game of connect the dots ever, and he wins every time.

Sometimes you've even made it into a game, trying to find all the stars in a constellation before the other, but he has the unfair advantage of actually knowing them all. But you always have fun playing, even if you end up behaving like children.

And looking at him right now, his eyes on the stars and his hand up to trace them with his finger, you can't take your eyes off of him and you know, out of all the constellations, he shines the brightest.

“That…” He traces the biggest constellation he's shown you tonight. “is the Ursa Major.”

His voice snaps you out of it and you look back up. He's shown you these same constellations time and time again, every time with the same passion and every time you listen intently, just enchanted by his voice.

“And that one…” He traces another one. “is Pegasus.”

Huh, that was a new one. You look at it while tilting your head. “Pegasus?”

“Yeah, that one I don't know what it means.” He chuckles, about to move on to another set of stars when you interrupt him.

“Pegasus is a winged horse from Greek Mythology.” You say before you can stop yourself.

Mythology is something you've always found fascinating and, much like Bucky with Astronomy, you've always tried to learn as much as you could about it.

Unlike Bucky, you've always kept this small passion to yourself, which is why Bucky is looking at you right now with a confused yet amused raise of his eyebrow.

“What? Can't a girl know a random fact?” You say playfully while looking back up at the stars to hide your slight blush.

“So that's all it is? A random fact?” Bucky asks, his eyes still on you and you know he can tell there's more to it. He knows you pretty well, after all.

“Maybe…” You say playfully, finally looking at him with a small smile.

“Tell me more about it?” He says softly, not pushing you to talk but letting you know he's open to listen if you want.

“Well…” You say quietly after a moment, looking back at the stars as you think about what to tell him. “Pegasus was born from Poseidon-”

“Poseidon?” He interrupts you with a small frown. “The god of the ocean?”

“Yeah…” You chuckle, looking at him. “He's also known as the God of Horses.”

“He is?” He frowns more. “Why?”

“Well, according to Greek mythology he invented them.” You explain with a smile. “He created them out of foam from the ocean in order to be elected as the patron god of a new city. But Athena created an olive tree and the citizens saw that as more useful and chose her, naming their city Athens.”

Bucky looks at you with awe, his entire attention on you now as you enthrall him with your words.

“And he was the father of Pegasus?” Bucky asks you, just wanting to hear more of your voice.

“Yeah, Poseidon was his father and Medusa his mother.” You look back up at the stars, trying to  recall more details of the story. “He was born when Medusa got decapitated by Perseus. The blood from her neck fell into the ocean and, out of the white foam, came Pegasus, along with Chrysaor.”

“Chrysaor?” He asks, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “Another horse with wings?”

“No, he was a boar with wings.” You correct him. “Chrysaor comes from a name that means ‘he who has a golden sword’. Pegasus doesn't have a meaning, but it symbolizes divine inspiration or the journey to Heaven, because…”

You keep talking about Greek mythology as you look at the stars, Bucky’s eyes on you the whole time.

He finally understands why you love hearing him talk about Astronomy so much even though you have virtually no interest in it.

The way you talk about Mythology, the knowledge and the passion you show… It's breathtaking to see, and Bucky never wants to stop listening to you at this moment. 

If you were looking at him you'd see the same look you have on your face when you look at him talking about the stars, the same look he has when he's looking at the stars…

He may love to stargaze, but the biggest, brightest of them all is laying right beside him, and that’s definitely his favorite.

[likeadevils]

talk more about taylor lying to make a cleaner story! i also find it hilarious but am only aware of a few examples (love story, i wish you would). are there others that you can elaborate on?

yeah! a lot of these are going to be splitting hairs a bit, and i understand her reasoning for all of these, and also this is by far one of my favorite things about her like i love every time she does this.

speak now:

famously, taylor said originally speak now being solo-written was an accident, because she was spending so much time alone in hotels and writing at werid hours of the night. this is not true, she's said many times she lied about this and did it to prove that she was writing her own songs and not getting pity credits or whatever

(THIS IS THE MOST SUBJECTIVE AND OUTSIDER PERSPECTIVE ENTRY ON THE LIST) back to december makes it seem like taylor had much deeper feelings for taylor lautner than she did. i dont think they were ever exclusive; she wrote both enchanted and ours about other people while her and taylor were ostensibly dating. i think taylor squared just went on a couple dates and when lautner tried to make it exclusive in december, swift turned him down

the secret message to mine is 'toby', which is the name of the guy who starred in the music video. i have heard persistent rumors that mine is about a college guy she dated in early 2010, and his name might be toby, but at the very least she's trying to trick us

red:

taylor told this to the la times: “I knew I wanted to bookend the album with 'State of Grace' and 'Begin Again' because they're inspired by the same person who inspired a few songs on the record. I wanted to start and end the album with the first and last song I ever wrote about that relationship." i can't definitively say state of grace wasn't the first song she wrote about that relationship (though she has said all too well is the first song she wrote for the album), i can definitively say she wrote wanegbt four months after she wrote begin again

taylor said this about red: "When I'm writing a record, I kind of don't listen to much music [...] the only artists that I really listened to were Snow Patrol and Ed Sheeran, and that's the reason why I wanted to collaborate with those people on the record." taylor gave many updates on what she was listening to throughout writing red, most notably the arm lyrics on the speak now tour. she gave occasional shout outs to what she was listening to on twitter and instagram into the spring of 2012, and various artists have talked about her complimenting recently relased songs at the time. this is one of my favorites like this made me laugh out loud when i first read it

the secret message for everything has changed, a song she wrote in may, is "hyiannis port", implying that it is about her relationship with connnor kenedy, who she met two months after writing the song

every single time she implied ikywt was about harry in 2013. i don't think it's a complete lie, but she did start writing the song about three months before she met him. finished it after the first time they broke up though

1989:

while taylor (as far as we know) did not have a long term boyfriend in 2013, she did go on dates (funniest one is with tom odell, who wrote this song about her), and it seems like some of those dates were with the intention of finding something more permanent (hence her disappointed "Dating is awful. Love is fiction/ a myth. I’m over it all.").

this and many, many interviewers where taylor says that she got the idea to make a 80s album after losing album of the year at the grammy's (she tells a lot of different stories about that night). bonus points if she says she had “accidentally” been incorporating 80s synths before that. it seems like taylor had the idea to make an 80s pop album around may of 2013 (to many little sources for this one, check my 1989 timeline), and taylor explicitly requested ryan tedder to make 80s pop for her before the grammy's where she lost album of the year.

taylor did not move to new york until after 1989 (at least non-tv) was finished

taylor didn't move from nashville to new york. she largely moved out of nashville to LA in early 2012, and spent a good portion of 2013 split between LA and rhode island.

reputation

taylor: "'I Did Something Bad' I wrote after Arya and Sansa conspire to kill Littlefinger." that episode aired in august of 2017. we have video proof of her writing idsb in october of 2016. now, filming for that season did begin in august of 2016 and lasted for another 6 months, so she could've been receiving insider information? but in the same article she said she was avoiding spoilers and she seems to be unaware of the upcoming events in season 8. i don't know what's going on here i love it

various sessioners have reported that taylor said she wrote all the songs on reputation for reputation, not years in advance. it seems like she had some lyrics for ready for it, dress, and new years day written years in advance. this is the most nit picky entry on this list and i’m annoying myself just by writing it

lover

taylor: "I posted [the seven palm trees] the day the I finished the seventh album." taylor did not finish the album in february, she definitely added death by a thousand cuts after april 24, and likely added london boy in july, something she knew at the time of giving the interview.

this interview about the making of lover (the song): "Interviewer: [Jack] was calling that the Paul bass, is that Paul McCartney? Taylor: Yeah. [Two seconds later] Jack: It's not a true Paul bass at all."

folklore and evermore

the statement that inspired this post, that folklore was the first time taylor wrote non-autobiographical songs! not true! large swathes of debut, fearless, and speak now are about made up scenarios! best believe taylor swift, born in 1989, did not meet bobby on the boardwalk in the summer of '45!

this interview with paul mccartney, where she says there is a song on folklore about "a pioneer woman in a forbidden love affair" (ivy, a song on evermore), and when asked what books inspired her on folklore, named Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, the book that inspired tolerate it (another song on evermore).

edit cause i forgot: those joe credits on folklore are. so funny. no he did not. like i generally take taylor at something approximating her word but i'm gonna need some proof on this one. exile and betty i buy everything else is ridiculous. queen shit though

as for midnights-on, only time will tell. she also just does less interviews now so there’s less opportunities to catch her flubbing

[chris-hallelujah]

PopStar!Reader x BF!Matt head cannons

Word Count: 460 words (super short I'm sorry!!)

A/N: I have seen the pop star!reader concept floating around a good bit lately, but all ideas are my own and I do not consent to anyone posting this on another platform. Go check out @sleepysturn for her singer!reader content <3

-- Billie

Matt who is dating pop star reader and...

Attends almost every one of your concerts.

Matt definitely attends all of your California and New England shows. He also is at any other show he can make work with his schedule. There is nothing he loves more than watching you shine on stage doing what you love. He also will throw out t shirts and merch into the crowd before you go on stage.

Wants all the focus on you.

Since you and Matt started dating, it was bound to happen that there would be overlap with your fan bases. It isn't uncommon for fans to be watching and recording him at your concerts. He has been recorded multiple times waving to fans and pointing to you on stage, "Don't look at me, look at her! She's doing so good!"

Protects you from paparazzi.

Matt knows how overwhelming the paparazzi can be. He always has your hand or has his arm around you as you weave your way through the flashing cameras (think Taylor and Travis). He'll use his jacket to block their shots or flip them off to give them shots they can't use on days that you feel particularly overwhelmed. You used to walk around with security all of the time, but now you have Matt.

Is in your top Spotify listeners.

Matt's Spotify wrapped is literally just your songs over and over. He always has your music on in the background. He plays your music when he streams so more people can hear you. And for the songs you wrote for him??? Forget about it, he can't get enough of it. Chris and Nick love your music too but even if they didn't they would know all of the words from Matt playing it so much.

Supports you like nobody else.

Matt can often be seen wearing your merch. When you're up for an award, Matt is constantly sharing the voting link to get people to support you. You're in the peak of your career and he couldn't be more proud of you.

Is amazed by your song writing process.

You and Matt are both creative in different ways. He, obviously, flourishes in the environment of content creation, but isn't musical. You on the other hand, are not as good at coming up with video ideas, but you play multiple instruments. Matt will sit and watch you write new songs, absolutely enchanted by how you do it with such ease. Without you knowing, he will record as you work through different lyrics and rhythms. He also loves when you ask for his opinion. He knows how important your music is to you and the fact that you trust him enough to ask for his thoughts melts his heart.

[daystarpoet]

★﹐ever seen ．﹗﹑

fb!jason grace because queen @jgracie / @luverina wrote it and he's been stuck in my head for months on end. giving my own little spin to it. american football player jason grace x fem!reader. bud is too popular for his own good and doesn't even notice. mind you i haven't read hoo, i just have maaaaaaaany hours of fics on me. so sorry if it's ooc. 467 words

your life was turned upside down the minute jason grace confessed his feelings for you after winning a football game. all of a sudden, you weren’t just the quiet reader girl any more. no. you were jason grace’s girlfriend— and that, was a title to behold.

it all had started with a crush. just another teenage crush. everyone had a crush on jason grace. he had radiant blond hair, the most gorgeous blue eyes in existence, and his face was perfectly shaped— just like a roman statue. plus, he wasn’t just your typical jock. no. he was actually smart, he was caring, and he didn’t indulge in the pointless pranks his teammates seemed to be so incredibly fond of.

your eyes would sometimes catch his during class; only to rapidly return to their previous spot. he would awkwardly wave at you whenever you crossed paths in the hallways. one time he even stayed with you during a break just because you hadn’t finished your notes yet.

your interactions were only intensified when the teachers were fed up with your class talking in class enough for them to arrange the seats themselves. you had the fortune to be assigned jason as a seating partner. from that day onwards; you two only grew closer. you shared your notes, whispered comments about whatever the teacher was saying, and made a lot of eye contact.

fast-forward to the present day. jason was no longer your crush, but your actual boyfriend. he did all these little things like helping you carry your books and letting you wear his varsity jacket. he would quietly listen and nod along as you rambled about your current read for hours on end. all that while being drop-dead gorgeous.

the most mesmerizing thing about him were his eyes. an electric shade of blue that only intensified whenever you made eye-contact. he most certainly had the prettiest eyes you had ever seen. you felt like floating whenever he’d look at you with that soft, gentle, enchanting gaze.

**“**you stare a lot. did you know that?” jason asked, his brows furrowing in amusement. his head rested on his left arm as his body laid on your bed. the afternoon sun shined through the window, casting its glow right upon the pair of you.

“i do not.” you replied, rolling your eyes in an attempt to cover the fact that you were indeed staring. you lightly slapped him on the arm, which he used as a chance to take a hold of your wrist and pull you to lay next to him. “i don’t mind if you do, pretty girl.” he gave you a cheeky smile.

this was what your life generally looked like after class. on the days he didn’t have football practice, he would go over to your house and hang out with you, listen to you ramble, study, do homework, make out, and take short naps. “now, what were you saying, about that book character?” and just like that, he let you ramble away.

[hockeyluvrr]

Since you said you are a swiftie as am I. Can I request Luke Hughes with a swiftie girlfriend. Her just explaining the meaning of songs too him and why Taylor does Taylor’s version

of course! thank you so much for requesting! this is actually my first fic ever on here so I hope I did a good enough job! I hope you like it! 🫶🏻

MASTERLIST

Taylor’s Version || lh43

word count : 753

gif is not mine!

It was one of those rare evenings where Luke had no plans, no NHL games and had nothing but free time. He was laying on the couch in your shared apartment while you were kneeling on the floor surrounded by your collection of Taylor Swift CDs and vinyls.

You had practically begged Luke all week for him to let you play him Taylor’s music so he could, in your words, listen to it the right way. Finally with a free night, and a bribe of pizza, you had him exactly where you wanted him.

“So, you ready for your Taylor Swift lesson?” You grinned as you flipped through your vinyls and CDs.

“Do I have a choice?” He joked.

“Absolutely not.” You smile before placing the Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) vinyl on the record player, listening as the melody of Enchanted (Taylor’s Version) started playing.

“So, what’s this song?” Luke speaks up after a minute of listening.

“So, this song is called ‘Enchanted’. It’s this song about feeling that instant connection when you first meet someone. Like when you click with someone and you’re hoping with everything within you that they felt the same thing you did.”

“Oh, like when we first met?” Luke teased slightly with a small smirk.

Your cheeks flush slightly as you nod. “Yeah, pretty much. I swear when we first met all I was thinking was, ‘Please don’t be in love with someone else.’” Luke’s smile only widened at your words.

“You’re so cheesy, you know that baby?”

“Just a little bit.” You joke.

You both sat there for a little while, just listening to the song. Luke surprisingly found himself tapping his fingers on his thigh to the melody. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be into Taylor’s music as much you are, but he was slowly beginning to understand why her music meant so much to you.

“Hey baby?” Luke speaks up when the song finishes, the start of ‘Better Than Revenge’ playing as he does.

“Yeah?”

“Why do you have two versions of the same album?” He asks pointing at the vinyls of the original album and the rerecorded album.

“Oh, you mean Taylor’s Versions? Let me explain.” You say, a bit excited to explain this to your boyfriend. “Okay, so basically Taylor’s Versions are re-recorded versions of the original albums she released.”

“Why does she need to re-record them? Aren’t they already her songs?” Luke muttered, clearly confused.

“Well technically yes, she wrote them but she doesn’t own them.”

“Wait, what? I thought if you wrote the song, it was yours.”

“You’d think so, right? But, it’s complicated. She wrote the songs, but her label owned the masters. That means that she didn’t have control go how her music was used, the label did.”

“That’s messed up.”

“Exactly!” You smile, glad Luke was following your explanation. “So, a few years ago, the label was sold. And when it was sold, so were her masters. But the guy who sold them didn’t tell her they were being sold and so she never had a chance to buy her own masters. So, she decided that instead of accepting that she didn’t own them, she decided to re-record all her old albums so that she could own the new versions…aka Taylor’s Version.”

“Woah…that’s actually pretty smart. So, she’s taking back control, one album at a time?”

“Yeah, that’s why us swifties are so passionate about Taylor’s Version. It’s more than the music, it’s about her taking back what’s rightfully hers.”

Luke nods at your explanation before laying back on the couch. “I get why you like her so much now. Thank you for explaining everything to me, even if I don’t understand every little detail.”

“That’s okay, I like explain everything to you. It’s like how you explain all your hockey stuff to me, that’s your way of sharing a little bit of your world with me and this is my way.” You smile as you lean against the front of the couch, Luke’s hand automatically coming up to brush gently through your hair.

As you both sat there in comfortable silence, with Taylor’s voice echoing softly in the background, you felt your heart swell in happiness. You were glad Luke was willing to listen to and understand Taylor’s music, it meant everything to you.

“Alright,” Luke spoke, breaking the comfortable silence. “Play me another album.”

You smiled widely as you reached for your vinyl of Red (Taylor’s Version). “You’re in for a treat, baby.”

[joyfulcowboycandy]

Siren's Lullaby

Azul Ashengrotto x Reader

❥ one shot

Content warning: none

Note: I couldn't think of a full plot-line so this is shorter than my usual one shots! I also wrote this at night so I couldn't be bothered to expand on it too much :'p sorry for that

I'm probably going to make another with a mermaid or siren reader! Those are my absolute favorite mythology creatures !!! (Alongside angels and fairies) But I don't know for who

female y/n

The soft hum of the sea breeze danced through the windows of the Mostro Lounge, mingling with the gentle clinking of glassware and the murmurs of conversation. Business was booming tonight. Azul Ashengrotto sat at his usual spot behind the bar, eyes calculating, lips pulled into a satisfied smile as he watched customers fill the lounge. But there was another reason for the packed seats.

It wasn’t just his services that had people flocking in.

It was her.

Y/n's soft, melodious voice echoed from the stage, captivating the audience. The siren’s song was smooth, enchanting, and heartbreakingly beautiful. It wove its way through the crowd, curling around each listener and tugging at their emotions, without overwhelming them—just enough to make them want more. Y/n had learned to control her powers over the years. Her singing, once feared for its raw siren nature, now served as a balm for the souls who wandered into Azul’s lounge.

Her voice was like a lifeline for both the patrons and for him.

Azul glanced up from his work, watching her carefully. Y/n was dressed in flowing, angelic silks, the pearlescent fabric draping over her form like ocean foam. She shimmered under the soft lights of the lounge, adorned with delicate sea jewelry—pearls, conch shells, and fragments of polished coral. A sight to behold, but her eyes, veiled by a silken cloth, were hidden from the world. A curse, she had once whispered, that turned any who met her gaze into stone.

It wasn’t just her voice that had isolated her. It was those cursed eyes of hers.

But tonight, none of that mattered. She sang, and the world forgot her past, her curse, and the years of cruelty that had marked her life. Azul had made sure of it.

The moment the song ended, the lounge erupted in applause. Y/n smiled softly, her fingers shyly fiddling with the edge of her dress as she bowed her head. As the applause quieted, she moved carefully off the stage, her steps uncertain but graceful, feeling the gentle tug of the hand on her arm.

“Come on, Angelfish. Azul’s waiting for you,” Floyd teased, his hand guiding her with a light-hearted ease. Jade, walking on her other side, chuckled.

“Don’t make her nervous,” Jade added with a grin.

Azul stood as they approached, eyes softening as he held out his hand. “You were wonderful tonight, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice gentle, always gentle with her.

“Thank you, Azul,” Y/n said, her voice shy, but her smile was genuine. Her hand found his, and he clasped it lightly, as if she were made of glass.

The twins stayed close by, not straying too far as Y/n took a seat beside Azul, feeling the comfort of his presence. She couldn’t see his expression, but she didn’t need to. She could sense it in the way he spoke to her, in the way he always made sure she felt safe.

“Do you need anything?” Azul asked softly. “Are you tired?”

“I owe you a lot, Azul,” she whispered, her voice trembling ever so slightly.

Y/n shook her head. “I’m alright,” she said, her fingers brushing over the shells around her neck, her anxious habit. “It… felt nice, singing tonight.”

Azul smiled. “I’m glad.” There was a pause, then he added, “You’ve come a long way since the first time we met, haven’t you?”

The memory of their first encounter flickered in her mind—when she had been lost, hiding away from the world, cursed and alone. She hadn’t thought she’d ever sing again, let alone in front of others. But Azul had seen something in her, something more than just a cursed siren. He had pulled her from the darkness, helped her find herself, given her a place where she wasn’t judged or feared. He had become her anchor, and in the process, something more.

Azul’s fingers gently squeezed hers. “You don’t owe me anything, Y/n.”

But in her heart, she knew that wasn’t true. She owed him more than he could ever imagine.

A small yawn escaped her lips, and Azul chuckled softly. “You should rest,” he said, his hand lifting hers as he stood. “Come. You can sleep in one of the guest rooms upstairs. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Floyd grinned as he leaned against the wall, watching them. “Aw, Boss, you’re really babying her, huh?”

“Shut up, Floyd,” Azul muttered, though his cheeks tinged slightly pink. Y/n stifled a laugh, feeling warmth spread through her chest. The teasing, the care—it was all so new to her, but she was slowly learning how to accept it.

As Azul led her toward the private quarters, Jade stayed behind to watch over the lounge, while Floyd stayed close, his arm looped casually around hers.

“I’ve got your back, Angelfish,” Floyd whispered mischievously, but with a surprising warmth that she was beginning to recognize as genuine.

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

The lounge, much like the one he had operated in his dorm during school, had expanded into something grander. Now, it wasn’t just a place for deals and contracts; it was a high-class establishment, a place where patrons gathered not only to conduct business but to be entertained. And the star of that entertainment was Y/n.

Her voice had become the crown jewel of his business, enchanting guests and luring in customers from all corners. People would whisper about her—about the mysterious siren with the covered eyes, about the smooth, angelic voice that soothed their souls and captured their hearts.

Azul had done well to capitalize on it.

But tonight was different. Tonight, some of his old friends from school had come to visit. As they sat around the table, discussing various ventures and reminiscing about their days at Night Raven College, Azul kept one ear tuned to the performance on the stage.

And there she was, standing in the center of it all, draped in shimmering, silky fabric that made her look like she had stepped right out of the ocean. Her long, flowing garments were chosen carefully by the twins—pearls adorning her neck and wrists, sea-colored jewelry complementing the ethereal look of the siren. Her long hair cascaded down her back like waves, but the most striking part of her appearance, as always, was the cloth that covered her eyes. It gave her an otherworldly appearance, making her seem both fragile and powerful at the same time.

Her voice floated through the air like a gentle breeze, wrapping around the room and pulling everyone into her spell. She had learned to control her siren powers well, only using enough to mesmerize without overwhelming. The effect was undeniable.

At his table, Azul’s friends—Kalim, Jamil, Rook, and Vil—sat in silence, completely enchanted by the performance. Even Vil, known for his discerning taste and critical eye, seemed transfixed, his usually sharp expression softened as Y/n’s voice filled the room.

“Mon dieu, what an exquisite performance,” Rook whispered, his eyes glinting with admiration. “The siren truly lives up to her legend.”

Kalim grinned, leaning forward with his usual excitement. “She’s amazing! Azul, how did you manage to find someone like her?”

Azul smirked, adjusting his glasses. “I have a talent for recognizing potential.”

Jamil, sitting beside Kalim, nodded thoughtfully. “There’s something different about her, though. I can’t put my finger on it, but she’s... unique.”

Vil, still gazing at the stage, spoke softly. “It’s her presence. It’s not just her voice; it’s the way she carries herself. There’s a mystery to her.”

Azul’s eyes flicked to Y/n once more, and he couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. She had come so far, and though she still held a quiet, shy demeanor off the stage, when she sang, it was as if she transformed into someone else entirely. He could see it in the way people reacted to her—the awe in their eyes, the way they couldn’t tear their gazes away.

As the final note of her song echoed through the room, the applause was immediate and thunderous. Y/n gave a small bow, her cheeks flushed from the attention, and disappeared backstage as quickly as she had appeared.

Azul’s gaze lingered for a moment longer before he turned back to his friends, who were still abuzz with excitement over the performance.

“Azul,” Vil began, leaning forward slightly. “You must introduce us. I’d like to meet her.”

Azul smiled, a small, knowing smile. “Of course.”

A few minutes later, Floyd and Jade appeared, escorting Y/n toward their table. Her movements were careful, her head tilted slightly as she listened to Jade’s soft instructions. She couldn’t see them, but Azul knew she could feel the attention.

“Y/n, I’d like to introduce you to some old friends of mine,” Azul said gently, rising to greet her as she approached. He took her hand, guiding her to sit beside him.

Her lips curved into a soft smile, though it was clear she was nervous. “It’s nice to meet you all,” she said quietly, her voice shy and hesitant, a stark contrast to the confidence she had displayed on stage.

Rook, ever the charmer, was the first to speak. “Mademoiselle Y/n, it is an absolute honor to witness such a beautiful performance. You are truly a gem of the sea.”

Y/n blushed, her hand coming up to fiddle with one of the pearls around her neck. “Thank you… that’s very kind.”

Kalim beamed at her. “You were amazing! I’ve never heard anything like it before.”

She gave a small, bashful laugh. “It’s just singing… nothing too special.”

“Nothing special?” Vil raised an eyebrow, his tone incredulous. “That was far from ordinary. Your voice holds power, something raw and real. It’s a rare gift.”

Y/n shifted in her seat, unsure how to respond to such high praise. She wasn’t used to receiving compliments—especially not from people like Vil, who had such an intimidating presence.

Azul sensed her discomfort and placed a hand on her arm, offering her a reassuring squeeze. “They’re right,” he said softly, leaning in so only she could hear. “You're incredible.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, but she quickly tamped down the feeling, not wanting to lose herself in the emotions swirling inside her. She had to remain focused—had to remember that her voice was just a tool, not something to rely on too much.

Jade, noticing her tension, stepped in with his usual calm demeanor. “Why don’t we get you some tea, Y/n? You’ve had quite the night.”

She nodded gratefully, letting the twins guide her away from the table. As they walked, the brothers exchanged playful banter, teasing her lightly.

“You should’ve seen the looks on their faces, Angelfish,” Floyd laughed, nudging her gently. “They were totally spellbound.”

Jade chuckled as well. “Indeed. It seems you’ve made quite an impression.”

Y/n smiled, though her fingers tightened around the silky fabric of her dress. “I’m glad they liked it…”

Back at the table, Azul’s friends continued to talk about the performance, but Azul’s thoughts were elsewhere. He watched as Y/n disappeared into the back room with Jade and Floyd.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

okay okay, it's a lil silly but hear me out konig + phantom of the opera au

man's got it all; need to cover his face, obsessive tendencies, and the need to be a secretive lil (big) weirdo *chef's kiss*

NO NO NO HOLD ON YOU'RE COOKIN. NOT SILLY AT ALL.

Now look here, I dunno if you know this, but I am a sucker for classic literature. One of my top three favourite books of all time is Frankenstein by Mary Shelly. That woman ate when she wrote that book and I will listen to nothing else. I also really want to write an essay about how Frankenstein is Mary Shelly discussing the inherent horror of motherhood in those times and how the lack of a mother figure shapes an individual. I think it's an extremely layered book, but I like to see the parenthood lens of the book.

Now now now, this is about Phantom of the Opera. I do know a bit about the original phantom, and I don't like to think König or reader dies in the end (just personally, I can't write a tragic ending. I really need a happy ending, not for the reader, but because I need a happy ending). So, let me introduce the idea that this is a version where the phantom wins.

This is one where the phantom was fucking right and actually, freak of nature as he is, maybe he had a point!!! Maybe, reader shouldn't be dating someone twice their age. Maybe, though König is a bit older for sure, he's actually not that old and a more appropriate age. Albeit, though now recovered, König still suffered a case of leprosy after being exposed during a war. He considers himself hideous, but maybe reader would be able to look past his sickness?

Now, is König appropriate as a lover? Probably not. He's obsessive, jealous, and a borderline stalker. He's determined to kill off the man who's trying to seduce her ('How dare you try and take my little songbird away from me!!!') and will do anything to keep reader to himself. However, he's also saving reader from a far worse fate with someone worse than him.

Reader is enchanted by Makarov of course, but König knows better and is determined to show her the light. He desperately wants to just talk to her and explain everything to her, but at this point he's committed to what he's doing and social anxiety makes him unable to just knock on her door and talk to her like a regular person.

Once again, like every incredible story in the English language, if you guys just talked everything would be fine but nobody knows how to be an adult.

Anyways, König loves reader dearly. Watching her perform makes his heart ache. His one saving grace is a beautiful voice he uses to enchant her. If his face is nothing but sickness, let him sing to his little songbird and help her connection to music. He'll do what he can to cling to any connections he has to her. He's desperate to hold her, and he'll do whatever he needs to to get to her.

IMPORTANT EDIT:

König with the phantom mask but he has two long red ribbons coming out the bottom of the eyes and the rest of his face is hidden under a dark hood. Consider it.

[monimccoythings]

Little Siren

This is an ask about Arlong x female human!singer reader. Don't ask me why but I always have a weak spot for the plain street musician rather than the big popstar. Ah, silly me. So, I pulled out this short drabble

tags: @karma-reader

When Arlong saw something he liked, he usually got it. When Arlong wanted something, he pitied the soul who dared to get between him and his object of desire. Nobody could stop him, not even a puny human. Because once he set his eyes on something, he would split apart the earth to get it.

And you were no different.

What made you so special? You were just another human. Dirty, pathetic, weak. A street rat who was barely getting by themselves. But there was something about you that he desired to posses.

Your voice.

Since you were very little, all you had ever wanted to do was to sing. To reach people's hearts with your music and unite nations through your songs until their hearts were only one beating to the rythm.

You wrote your own lyrics, you learned to play the guitar. This was your biggest dream.

Usually, people wanted fame, wanted the stardom and the money, completely ignoring the pure joy one felt in their chest when they expressed themselves through a song. As you always said, as long as there was someone listening to you, it would all have been worth it.

When you came to this new town, you weren't really expecting to hit it big. You usually performed on the street, only attracting the attention of a few passerbys; but those who stayed and listened through the entirety of it always left with a smile on their faces, and that was more than enough for you.

That's when Arlong met you. He found himself drawn to your voice, you were like a siren, enchanting him. That was the moment he knew he must have you no matter what.

He would kidnap you. As any fishman pirate with his reputation would have done.

Another treasure to add to his pile. Another trophy to satisfy his endless greed.

Except... it felt different this time. Somehow he wasn't able to go through it.

The fearsome Arlong The Saw, terror of the East Blue, afraid of a simple human? He knew he would become a laughingstock back in Fishman Island if word got out. Yet everytime he tried to approach you, your music was enough to stop him in his tracks. He would be lurking in the shadows, completely still, just watching you like a dumb bitch. And when he snapped out of it, you were already gone.

So he vowed to return, and never leave until you belonged to him.

Each day he came, each day he hid in the sadows, plotting his next move but freezing whenever he heard your voice and looked into your eyes. And each day that passed he found the growing feeling in his chest getting bigger and bigger. It was terrifying, not that he would ever admit it. How a simple human had him entrapped with their voice.

You were also marveled by the mysterious stranger that never seemed to miss any of your performances. A fishman male, if the gills and webbed hands were any indication. You didn't know what his business was, watching you from the shadows; what you knew for sure was that he was enraptured by your music. And that filled you with joy known like any other. Fishmen and humankind had been on the verge of war for way too long.

You have been meaning to talk to him for a while now, but it seemed that everytime you finished, he retreated back into the shadows and disappeared. For someone so large, it was certainly impressive that he had managed to hid himself so well.

One day, curiosity got the best of you, and decided to follow him through the very dark alleway (and it was the middle of the day!), getting lost in a maze of streets you were starting to lose hope when you were rudely lifted by the neck and slamed against the wall.

"Well, look who it is. My little siren."

For a couple of seconds you couldn't speak, you couldn't breath, you couldn't look anywhere else than that angular face, letally serrated long nose, and frankly, the most beautiful blue eyes you had ever seen.

"You had wandered too far from your little stage, siren. You don't want the big bad shark to eat you, do you?" His smile, full of teeth sharp as knives, was cruel and lacked any warmth. You wondered if you would end up like the cat in that saying. 'you know what they say about curiosity...'

Yet that old saying didn't stop you from speaking.

"Did you... like it? You... you always come... to see me."Your voice was hoarse, his grip on you was unrelenting. It kinda worried you he was going to crush your way of making a living.

You could see a speck of pink tint his cheeks and his angular jaw tensed. He obviously thought of himself as a master of camouflage and discretion.

He pulled away from you, retreating as if you had the plague. You understood, given humans previous treatment towards fishmankind and were extremely grateful of being able to recover your breath.

"It was midly entertaining." Arlong wanted so badly to sound dismissive and uncaring, to prove that your little show was not that much of a big deal. Just something to pass time. He had seen better. But he was growing nervous, and he hated being nervous. Hated feeling out of control, hated letting a human have the upper hand.

He should have just crushed your windpipes right then and there.

But instead, he turned around. Muttering a quiet threat about following him again; vowing to himself to put some distance before he succumbed to the lesser race and perfectly knowing he would be there the next day as well to watch you sing.

Because when Arlong wanted something he usually got it.

[hobiebrownismygod]

HAIII HELLOOO HOW ARE U DOING so i just had a random idea and i cant stop thinking about it. you can it ignore it i'm just asking

basically hobie x reader (can be fem or gender neautral idc) where reader is like a siren but isnt dangerous and likes swimming in the canal that hobie's boat is in and then like one night he spots reader in the water

idk if that makes sense words are not wording right now 😭 but yeah you can do whatever you like with the rest. thank yewwww 🙏🏾💞

wait omg I love this idea!! its so cute and I totally see why it's been stuck in your head lol I went kind of overboard with the lore for this one. I also made it femreader because that's easier for me to write and hopefully that's okay!! I hope you like how I wrote it <3

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Humming under his breath, Hobie stood at the edge of his deck, staring out into the distance, mind overrun with quiet thoughts. The night was basically silent, no people nor animals in sight, just Hobie and his canal boat, slowly drifting along the soft waves.

He was still fairly close to shore, and could see some faint lights of alive homes, but it was growing very late, and everyone was going to sleep for the night.

But Hobie couldn't sleep. He was tired, of course, anyone would be after the day he'd had...but he just couldn't sleep.

It was difficult for him to sleep these days. So many scenarios littering his mind, making him think, fear, dream. Not a day went by where he wasn't suddenly awoken by a terrible nightmare, the screeching of civilians flooding his brain, images of horrific villains filling his dreams.

So staring out at the water, enjoying the silence, it was much more calming for him. It was also a way for him to avoid the sleepiness crawling up his spine, latching its gentle claws around his shoulders and pulling him into the soft, warm enclosure of his bed.

But he refused to give in to the temptation, to the tiredness. What he'd experience when he was asleep was too much to bear.

Besides, he couldn't have any nightmares if he was awake.

Suddenly, Hobie's expression perked up, and he leaned his head forward. He'd heard something, but he wasn't sure what. He stopped humming, the area around him falling completely silent as he strained his ears to listen for whatever might have been there.

He heard a faint hum.

His spider-sense began to tingle.

The song was beautiful, nothing like he'd heard before. It was quiet, soft, reminding him of the way a hug would feel, warmth and love, wrapping around one's body and holding them close. It was musical, vibrant, but just enough to make him feel even sleepier than before.

It was also strangely enchanting.

After a beat, Hobie began to hum along. He knew the tune. He wasn't sure how, but he did know it. A simple five or six notes, easy to remember, easy to memorize, easy to single along with.

And then he realized he was humming alone. The other voice had disappeared.

He furrowed his brows, confused as to where it could've gone.

A ripple passed by, just barely changing the surface of the dark, murky water below. He stumbled back slightly, immediately on defense mode as he peered over the edge, gaze hardening over the sight of a few bubbles, slowly rising to the surface.

"Hello?" He called out softly.

For a moment, he thought nothing would happen. That he'd just been imagining it. Hallucinating even, the little sleep he'd had finally getting to him.

But he watched as a pair of eyes appeared, the outline of luscious hair and a head parting the waters, peering up at him.

He stared, mouth opening in awe.

You were beautiful.

Your face was just barely illuminated by the moonlight, glistening down on the droplets dripping down your smooth skin, just your face and neck having protruded out of the water.

You cocked your head to the side slightly, as if curious, inspecting him as he put his hands on the railing separating him from the open waters. "Hello."

His breath hitched in his throat. "Who...are you?" He asked after a moment, struggling to find his voice.

You smiled, enjoying his reaction. Before you could respond you were interrupted by a loud blare. Another boat was approaching, one that looked similar to a police boat almost.

Hobie looked up too, caught off-guard, and his expression immediately hardened. When he noticed you about to submerge yourself in the water again, he quickly reached a hand out.

"Wait!"

You looked back up at him nervously, eyes flitting between him and the slowly approaching vessel. The silence was thick enough to be sliced, his soft breaths and the ripples of the water both louder than the sound of the boat that was coming closer.

Your eyes stayed on each others, hundreds of thousands of words being exchanged in a single moment. It was like he could read your mind, and you could read his. An odd, yet welcomed, connection.

"What are you?" He asked softly. You smiled once again, eyes crinkling up slightly. When you opened your mouth to speak, Hobie was blown away.

What you spoke wasn't English, but it was like he could understand every word, your voice like a tune, another lovely song, sung by a perfect voice. He exhaled softly when you finished, nodding furiously.

"I-uh-" he stuttered, realizing the boat was only getting closer, the officers' voices growing louder and louder. "Do you speak English?" he asked quickly, praying under his breath that your answer would be-

"Yes."

He grinned, cocking his head to the side slightly as he stared down at you. "I-"

The horn of the police boat sounded again and you snapped your head to the side, pretty eyes widening before you looked back at Hobie. He opened his mouth, hoping to delay you just a moment longer, calling out, "Wait-!"

But you were already gone, having disappeared under the surface without a trace, lost to the pitch black, shallow waters of the canal. He stared back at the slight ripples still emanating from where you'd left before running over to motor and roughly turning it on.

He had to escape, as quickly as possible. If he got caught now, he'd be out of a home, and he'd grown quite used to this little boat he loved so much.

But those lovely eyes were still stuck in his head. He chuckled to himself as he turned the tiller, steering himself in the opposite direction of the officers chasing him. He hummed those same four notes to himself, your gorgeous melody turning into a tune he didn't think he'd ever quite forget.

He hoped...no he knew that wouldn't be the last time he saw you. Hobie Brown was never one to let an opportunity slip past him, and this little encounter seemed to be much more than that. The way you'd looked at him, spoke to him, smiled at him-

Could it be fate? Hobie didn't believe in fate.

But this just felt so real. So real that he couldn't help but hope that it was fate.

That he was meant to see you again.

Because he would, whether it was written in the stars or not.

He'd find the girl with a voice of gold.

No matter how long it took.

____________________________

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A/N: Might write a part 2 if enough people ask because I feel like turning this into a series might be really fun but I also don't want to spend time writing it if no one's interested because I have other requests to get to too 😭 lmk if you want another part anon!! I'd be glad to write it <3

Taglist: @therealloopylupin2099 @rinverse @l0starl @daydreaming-en-pointe @itsparis-07 @vileviale @puff-hugs @d0uble-tr0ubl3 @lauryn2558 @choccymilkdrinker @sunasslut69 @ask-1610-miles @ask-1610miles @axels-garden @eli21345 @miniaturesuitfox @spotconlon55 @riris-radioactive-panther

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[eldritch-spouse]

[Part 8 of Gifted. Fem reader.]

Previous poll winner: Give yourself to Krulu (70.1%)

TW: Strong cultish themes; Macro/micro; Mindbreak; Squirting.

⋆✩ You've reached the end of the run ✩⋆

It's not much of a choice, is it?

If you wanted the easy way out, you could have taken it at several instances by now. Picked someone who was likely to bludgeon you, get on everyone's nerves... You're sure you could have gotten killed in many situations. And perhaps even in a less traumatic way- At the hands of a sick monster, rather than the deity dwelling in this rotpit.

But you've lived this far, survived the menaces who got their grimy hands on you. Only to choose death now? No. No, that's hardly admissible.

You're going to buck till your last dying breath here. Or at least try to.

Summoning strength you don't have, unable to meet the god-entity's eyes, it takes far too long before you can croak out a response.

" I... Offer myself to you. "

The finality of your own words hits you like a train. This is definitely not the type of being that'll let you walk back on your decision, so you've laid down the foundations for your brand new future with that statement alone.

Whatever giving yourself to Krulu implies, you have just signed up for it, and now you'll deal with whatever comes forth. It was your choice. It was the fate you wrote, at least some solace will come from that reminder.

The charred giant squints at you, long and hard. You're not sure what he hopes to gleam behind your eyes. They say eyes are the window to the soul, maybe there's some actual merit to that, aside from mere romanticism and poetic frivolity. Does he hope to find a lie? Deceit? You're sure there's nothing to show but fear, resignation, confusion. Defeat.

" A wise answer. "

Is it really? You'd argue dying would be saner. But you've abandoned hopes of staying sane, you are now remaining alive out of spite. A stubborn bull's desire to have its way even as a torero stabs it time and time again. And the crowd cheers, hoping you'll fall.

When all points of contact are severed between you two and an oppressive silence settles easily, there's no clue as to what your next move should be, so you stand like a statue, risking only chaste glances at their figure.

That's... That's it? It can't be.

" It seems I will have to teach you everything. " The entity spits. " Just as I did with my vessel. I expect you to come out of this apt for service. So listen well, for every time I am made to repeat myself, you will suffer. "

Something behind you knocks harshly onto your back, sending you tumbling forward on the altar, hands and knees on enchanted marble. Your entire upper body throbs with pain and you attempt to wheeze some air in and out of your lungs.

The moment an attempt to sit up is made, a rough foot keeps you down. You're well aware he's not putting half of his weight on it.

" Your first lesson is humility. " Krulu begins. " You shall know your place here, profess yourself to me properly. If you fail to do such, I see no reason to spare your ego. "

You're sure he's not talking about your dignity and pride when he says "ego".

How does one "profess themselves" to a god? What does he want you to say? You take a moment to think about Admin's mannerisms. He clearly likes the woman, and she's visibly -Perhaps manically- devoted to him, so whatever she's doing must be adequate. You suppose you ought to copy the purple-clad woman.

A rising rumble from above lets you know time is of the essence. The weight of a clawed foot increases on you, staggeringly powerful as it forces you to curve further the longer you disappoint this entity. Words force themselves out before you can think too hard and risk being compressed into a sheet of paper.

" M- My lord...? I... I belong to you. " That does not sound natural at all. In fact, it's painfully uncomfortable.

A disinterested chuff reaches your ears after a measured pause. " You sound far from appreciative. I am not convinced of your candor. "

A confused, terrified mind runs a mile a second, trying to think of anything more adequate, more appeasing.

" Allow me to help motivate you. "

Within seconds, the strength on your back is so great that it becomes oppressive, hindering your capacity to breathe further. Something creaks within you, awakening a brand new level of desperation as you fight to get the right answer out before he can smash the means to do such with.

" Please! Please my lord- I'll do anything you ask of me, I'm humbled by your mercy- " You choke, trying to get air into your lungs. " I live to serve you! It's my role. I'm yours. Please spare me! "

And, almost mercifully, the weight recedes a good deal. " Better. Albeit sub-par. "

You aim to survive.

Words cannot begin to express the relief you feel at the loss of his strength on your figure, taking a pained, desperate inhale. As if they could decide to steal your breath away at any moment now. Krulu takes several steps back on the altar, and once more, you're not too sure what to do. Is this what it's like for her? Constantly having to guess what to do in order to please this entity? Having no guides or clues, just the whispers of flames and the ticking of an impatient clock counting the seconds to failure... You can't take that. You couldn't take that for an hour, much less a lifetime.

" But that is forgivable. "

He begins, after a long moment leaving you to your thoughts, it seems.

" The most important task your mouth must perform is pleasuring, after all. "

Something bitter curls in your stomach at that declaration. You chose this. It's this or dancing six feet below the ground.

The massive entity squats upon the marbled surface, easily keeping their balance, arms shifting this way and that as they think, eyes poised on you. Although Krulu is an admittedly gnarled creature far from easy on anyone's eyes, you can't help but think that, sometimes, the light bathes his figure in a manner that's almost soothing. An elegance he has no right to hold. His home is in the shadows, you can tell, but somehow, light gravitates towards him too.

What is a being like this doing here? On Earth. Who is he? What is he? How long has he been pacing in this cage of a building, like a hidden mole? Something in you insists he shouldn't be here, and it's not just animal instinct, it's a... Warning, an idea that crawls to the forefront of your mind, as if you've always known it. He wouldn't be here if he didn't have to.

It's not pity that you feel for this immeasurably powerful being, but something like confusion. For a moment, you see a wounded animal limping on the side of the road after trying to hunt something much greater than itself. It's nature, in a way.

He must have caught that image in the reflection of your eyes, because the way his frown deepens into a scalding snarl has you instantly cowering like a leaf in the wind.

" Come. " They begin, causing your heart to leap into your throat. " Your first trial greets you. "

First trial...? Him? Before you have the chance to utter a single thing, Krulu raises a finger.

" Remember this. All you do is only ever permitted. "

Brows furrowing in an attempt to make sense of his riddle-like wording, you ultimately opt not to spend too much time standing around like an idiot and begin awkwardly closing the distance.

On the second step, something unseen and long bats itself onto the floor hard enough to make the ground shake violently. You fall onto your ass with a pained grunt, horrified and further confused.

" Must I open those ears? " He sneers, a pair of long arms crossed over his chest.

" N- No! I'm sorry- " Palms show in what you hope might placate the being. He's not stomping after you at least. That slitted stare is expectant however.

What does he want now? He said for you to approach, so what was so wrong there...?

All you do is only ever permitted.

Ah. Permission.

Doe eyes glance up. " May I walk towards you? " This sounds like a waste of time, frankly. But you have no idea how gods operate. Maybe this is standard etiquette for them.

His glare softens when you guess what to do correctly. " No. "

Uh. Okay.

" You may not. Crawl, like the worm you are. "

Sighing, you swallow the thoughts that second-guess your prior decision and lower to your hands and knees. The trek towards Krulu isn't long, but it manages to feel depressingly unflattering all the same.

You don't feel sexy or confident, just demeaned. This is not a place for confidence. It's hard to tell what his endgame here is.

" Enough. "

Cautious, your hands settle on your knees and you straighten up, awfully close to the large being's groin. Afraid even looking that way can incite their wrath, scared hues cast themselves to the candles again, trying to siphon that warmth.

The scream you let out once something grabs your whole head cuts off into a startled gasp as it's swiveled back to his likeness.

" On this altar, your eyes are to be fixed on me. "

" Y- Yes, lord. "

It seems the sooner you act accordingly, the faster he stops inducing fear on you, grip relenting.

Another standstill unfurls.

The persistent inability to know what to do next causes slight irritation to bud within you, but all he does is wave one hand dismissively, as if to tell you he's getting bored. To get on with it. You really hope that you didn't misinterpret it when he said "trial." You hope and pray you're not going to get ripped in two with these next words.

" May- " The hairs on your back stand and your voice escapes, defying your will, making you sincerely consider running from this creature. Even if it means certain death. " May I service you? " It comes out your mouth murmured, the death rattle of all dignity.

" Yess. "

With a gulp, you chance a glance at what you're working with, thanking the slight amount of illumination currently available. Like many other monsters you know of, at first glance, Krulu's pelvis appears barren of genital attributes. Though, given his size, it would be a bit hard to miss a thin seam of yellow where his slit parts slightly in this squatted position. Or is it just that he's already bothered? By you? No. No, there's no way...

So, a phallus at least. You're hoping. Who knows what the fuck could be in that pouch at this rate. But that's not the only thing you can see from this position. There's... Something moving below. With a confused squint, you tilt your head and note what appears to be two appendages parting ways like petals unfurling. More yellow reveals itself to you, two small and pointed growths curve forward. It takes you a moment to realize that you're looking at his strange, alien vulva.

Two sets. They really weren't kidding when they called this a "trial". Even when you scoot closer, the nervousness must be crawling all over your face, because he makes a comment.

" Explore. I will correct you. "

Far from reassuring. But then again, he must be incapable of such. Or just uncaring, that's more likely. What are you to him, if not the toy you agreed to be?

Well, time to be smart about things.

Time to set aside the mania in your brain telling you that you, a mere human, are going to engage sexually with a being whose oppressive totality you can't even comprehend, and focus on making things easier for you. Chances are that, taking this entity's magnificent size into account, avoiding his slit is a more intelligent choice. You don't need to be a scientist to know whatever's coming out of that will be scarily massive. Unmanageable perhaps. You're not looking forward to being literally impaled in an effort to appease a charred god.

Heading for his lower set is, by far, the safest bet.

Spreading your legs, your stature sinks further, and you can angle yourself to be mostly beneath his foreign pussy. The deity hums at your choice, adjusting their stance slightly, hips canting and arms moving to support his frame as it is ever so slightly presented to you. Behind him, a rough tail sways slowly, like the pendulum of a clock.

Given a much better look now, you realize that his labia are actually prehensile, moving every now and then. His vaginal opening doesn't seem to differ all that much from a human's in structure, at least outwardly, but what catches your attention is what must be his clitori. Two of them! That must make orgasms fun... They're large too, seeming to poke out their hood without difficulty, like thorns on a rose. For a pause, you're just observing him.

" Do you think it wise to test my patience at this moment? " He says in response to your mute awe.

" N-No! Forgive me, lord. " The fear response has kicked in more effectively, though it's not enough to drown your fascination. " ... You're beautiful. "

Krulu genuinely blinks in surprise. Subtle shock is replaced by a frown. A long finger dances under your chin, claw dragging on the fickle flesh, forcing you forward when it hooks upwards. " Pleasure, pet. Not flattery. "

Fair enough. You didn't mean to let that slip so easily.

Unsure how to go about this in a way that will please this being, whose sexual customs are vastly unknown, you figure starting timidly is smarter. Your hands lift, though the sharp glare you're given instantly make them dart to the marbled altar again.

" May-... May I use my hands? " Silence. " Please? "

" You may. "

At least that.

Tracing a slow path on the inside of this thighs, you edge upwards, marveling at the patterns engraved on the left one, scar tissue turned to infinite swirls. By the time you get to the inevitable, you begin by planting a kiss to the bottom of his entrance, trailing sloppy pecks upwards until your nose nudges against those two growths.

He looks down at you with an equally intense glare. Although where once it was filled with genuine irritation, now it's heated in a different way. No less intimidating however. A chuff is heard from above, those clits flex against the air in a motion that you find oddly erotic in spite of never having had contact with his species before.

A timid lap across the length of his opening is all you can manage to delay before focusing on those two. They look sensitive, they must be naturally, you fear too much direct stimulation can overwhelm him like it does some people. But it only takes a few experimental laps and kisses for him to "correct you". A palm drives your head harder against those buds, and he grinds on your face with a flex of long legs.

" I am not made of porcelain, lesser. "

" F- Forgive me- " Pressed against his cunt hard, all you can do is mumble the words onto it, face aflame. He seems to like the vibrations anyway.

" Take them into your mouth. "

Oh. Right, you can probably do that.

Circling one of their clits with a stubby tongue, you slip it into your warmth and, for lack of any guidance, suck on it cautiously. Krulu grunts something you can't interpret out, sighing when you pop it off your mouth to take care of the twin. With enough care, you manage to slip both in, sucking around the appendages, feeling them twitch on your tongue. It doesn't take long before he lets out a moan, this sound that seems to gently grace the walls, both high-pitched and low, as if two had reacted in unison.

It's a little hotter than it should be when he begins rolling against your mouth, almost causing you to bob. They taste of something intense, spreading an odd, nearly numbing tingle on your mouth. Something's popping in your tastebuds, bitter and sweet at different instances. It causes you to salivate excessively, drool trying its best to break down the complex substance you're coming in contact with. It's not an unpleasant flavor, so you find yourself easily suckling at him without a second thought.

The sound of faint dripping eventually breaks your focus.

You might be shamefully getting wet, but that's certainly not you. It takes a slight pause in your motions to incredulously peek down and spot his cunt clenching, empty, dripping slick in generous amounts. You hit the part of you that's drooling with a rolled up newspaper for being so impulsive. Still, when you quickly get back to servicing his clits, a stray hand coats itself in that viscous lubrication and you slip three fingers in without a hint of resistance. Then four. Honestly, you can slide your whole hand in there.

... Maybe you should?

Fuck it.

Your whole hand gets swallowed into Krulu's pussy, and while your eyes are wide in amusement, wondering if you could put your entire forearm in there, you're more focused in trying to find a spot to rub. It can't be that different from your anatomy, can it? You start palping and stroking with a purpose while slurping on him, determined to find that slightly ruggier tissue- Ah! There we are.

The higher arches, grunting, slipping more of your limb into himself with the jarring movement of his hips. It feels obscene, like you're fisting him. " Hhharder-! Harder, you hear me? "

He snarls, and like Hell you're going to risk unintentionally teasing him more. Your whole fucking palm rubs at what you think is his g-spot, feeling warm insides cling to your fingers, pulling you in with the force behind those reflexive pulses. Mesmerizing... This rolling rumble of a noise nearly shakes the walls, so you'll take it as a sign you're doing well. It's not too long before your arm is soaked by sloppy amounts of lubrication and your lips are puffed from sucking fattened clits. Krulu's sour disposition seems to be melting into a more tolerable demeanor, perhaps high on his enjoyment.

Better horny than angry, you guess.

More noises, this time from above, jolt your attention. Sensing movement, your eyes roam up to spot a sight that nearly makes you choke around the god's nubs. One hand coils over a glowing yellowed cock, shaped oddly just like the rest of him, some sections almost looking like rings. It strokes that length avidly, another hand from a different set of arms comes to rub circles around the head. He looks down at you lecherously, appearing to enjoy the show for a couple of heated moments where your gaze is locked on his and the massive being licks at their cruel grin.

When his head starts to tip upwards in the universal language of an approaching peak, Krulu drags you away from him by the neck, holding your pussy drool soaked face while the two of you catch your breath. The tingles on your tongue start to recede. The giant adjusts his position again, and this time, his massive cock faces you with a bob. Without extremities obscuring it, you can truly bask in its design, familiar, but so much better.

Your earlier point still stands however. There's absolutely no way in Heaven or Hell that cock is fitting anywhere inside you. Ever.

" Not as atrocious as I was expecting. But you are far from done, pet. "

Now curved forward, his great stature looms creepily. You don't see the nudge forward coming, nearly falling forth. Krulu makes an amused sort of titter.

" Resume. "

You almost don't want to crawl back towards him, but you know you need to tough through your own choice. He doesn't move a muscle, merely evaluating as you decide to start the same way you did with his cunt, kissing. One peck at the tip of his shaft, slicked by precum, then down the length you'll never take anywhere hopefully. It's admittedly impressive, the weight of it is such so that you require two hands to hold. And even then, you can't encompass his total girth. It's a beast of a cock, excusing the French.

Despite all odds, you try your best to do something that you think might pleasure him, struggling to jerk Krulu off. In fact, the motions are so clumsy that you believe he's purely just getting off on your pathetic attempts. Kitten licks are offered to a sensitive glans you can only suck at partially. The way those burning eyes shut just a bit further tells you he's at least taking enjoyment out of the whole thing.

It's still startling to feel something rough park at your bare pussy however. The rugged texture makes you believe it might be his tail for a second, but with the tapping of what can only be fingertips, you realize he's lowered a hand for you to sate yourself with. It rubs at your folds, spreading your own wetness and pressing knowingly over a bundle of nerves while you sigh around his girth.

" Are you daft? "

His voice isn't soothing at all. It's like... Wood bark in your ears, like branches snapping and scraping asphalt. You can only blink and gulp, befuddled.

" Fuck yourself on my fingers, you witless creature. "

That shouldn't have made your cunt clench the way it did. Though, at this point, you've stopped questioning why you're being aroused by gradually more obscene situations. In fact, enjoying this will make it a lot more bearable.

It's not too easy to multi-task, and given his impressive motor control of so many limbs, he must think your struggles are pitiful. Tentatively, you grind over his fingers, trying to slot them inside your warmth and getting struck by powerful shivers when he curls them helpfully. Thin and long, they slide into your walls with ease and reach places you've never been touched in before. Or maybe it's the way that he touches them. You have no doubt he could lift you by the cunt if he wanted to, and the bizarre thought has a quick moan making it past your lips, starting to roll into the friction with a little more gusto.

Krulu encourages you by hooking his phalange-like fingers, claws kept expertly folded. You feel your legs quaking and flexing in the wake of a god's touch, pleasure dawning upon you at a surprising rate. Although he's far from kind, far from safe, some itch in the back of your mind tells you to give in, to offer this entity your body and mind and all else they may crave of you. Because, somehow, someway, you understand that is your purpose. You understand you're looking at someone you should never defy and always, always seek to please.

He is your real God. And this is your new faith.

This sudden line of thought causes some genuine concern within you, as it's something completely out of left field. Never once have you felt so intensely about something. It must be his doing, it has to be. Ad yet, it feels right. Appropriate. Warming. You're not even aware your mouth is parted in silent bliss until Krulu appears to chuckle at your state.

" You will coat my hand in your effort to please me. And with your release, your role here is forever sealed. "

The hypnotizing finality of his statement is as striking as it is wonderfully arousing to you. Enough so that your heart cartwheels in your ribcage and your pace on his generous hand hastens. Maybe it won't even be so bad, you ponder while slicking his cock like a treat, you'd be protected, you wouldn't have to care about anything anymore. And you could get railed day and night by the monsters who lusted after you tonight, by the rest of them, the ones you can't help but fantasize about.

What would fucking the mimic be like? He deserves it for bringing you inside, for introducing you to your fate properly. And that slime, his kind has always exhibited such strange mating customs, how wild would things get? Oh, wasn't there a robot too? Your poor pussy drools as hard as your mouth does, each throbbing pulse of your walls hypnotically ebbing away your common sense. You're well aware pieces of your sanity have been chipping off like old pottery since the start of your contact with this god, but it doesn't feel as horrific as it should, it doesn't raise alarm or concern in you anymore.

Spiritualism isn't something you're very inclined to, but your mind tells you this is where you should be right now. And with that affirmation, everything seems to calmly slot into place again. Everything is as it should be.

" Y- Yes, my lord. "

Lashes flutter to a close briefly while you do your damndest to try to offer the deity more pleasure, unable to welcome him into your comparatively minuscule mouth. He grows fevered, legs shifting to feed more of himself into your grasp, likely frustrated by his mounting need, or perhaps being rough just for the sake of it. A jut of dark hips has that bright yellow length gliding on the side of your face in a debauched gesture that has you wondering if he could climax by simply grinding on your complexion. Eventually, slick, swift noises reach you, and judging by his moaning pants, you can only guess he's fingering himself to the scene.

Morbid curiosity has you peeking, the rhythmic plunging of equally dark digits into his sopping cunt confirming it. When you look back up, Krulu offers you a salacious rictus before thrusting hard, mean, just to jostle you.

" Lord- Lord Krulu- I'm doing my best, but I... I just can't fit you anywhere. I'm sorry- "

" Is it so? " The giant muses knowingly. " Well lesser, you will have to find a way to make me come somehow. Surprise me. "

Mind racing, you halt your motions on the now static hand between your legs, trying to figure something worth his time. A rotten little image finally surfaces, and you hope your filthy mind won't fail you now, of all times.

" Can... Can you please lower a bit more, Lordship? "

Krulu tilts their head subtly, elegant horns following, though your wish is granted. And so, you quickly scoot to be further beneath him, enough so that his heavy member rests on your front, from abdomen to chest and neck. The weight and warmth of it against your bare skin is a previously unknown sensation that you think you can get accustomed to, hands lifting to try to stimulate him in some manner, even pressing your breasts against him to whatever extent you can.

If he didn't think you were pitiful, he does now- Face flushed and dripping down his fingers, presenting yourself like some inanimate object to rut onto.

" Interesting... " He muses, and you can't be too sure if that's approval or an insult.

For some reason or another, the charred giant plays along, leaning forward to let himself grind against your body, each rock unavoidably powerful and gradually wetting you in his precum, a primitive marking ritual if there ever was one. Each back and forth has your face hotter than a furnace as you try, almost pointlessly, to lick at the end of him whenever it's close enough, oftentimes graced with a sloppy nudge against your cheek and mean-sounding chuckling from above.

Distantly, you wonder if this is what Admin goes through regularly. She's clearly his favorite, maybe this is a daily thing for them. It's easy to understand why her reverence of this being is so genuine and unbreakable. You can't help think that you'd be drawn here anyway, sooner or later.

Nothing matters anymore except doing as you're told, shuddering out moans and trying your best, apparently doing enough to warrant a reward as Krulu begins plunging his digits into you faster and harder than you've ever been fingered before, having tears prick at the corners of your eyes as it feels like he's fucking you himself in spite of being currently held between your breasts and arms. There's no mistaking the growls that dip into snarls low enough to rattle you, felt between every point of contact you have, rippling on your form, only speeding up your own approaching end.

Unable to squirm away from the relentless finger-fucking, it's all too soon before you're taken to the edge and near effortlessly tipped into a raging orgasm. Although it surprises you enough to let out a scream-like cry of ecstasy, you soon realize you're dealing with a god. He could probably kill you from orgasmic bliss alone if he wanted to. And you definitely feel something in your mind short-circuit, vision blurring with each pulse of a throbbing cunt around speedy, thin extremities. You're faintly aware of the fact that you just gushed onto Krulu's hand. Though neither of you are very concerned with that, you only struggle to breathe in the wake of growing overstimulation, arms now limp and body nearly falling back from how tensely it arches.

This feels like more than just an orgasm, if that's even possible.

Your lord detaches himself from your figure entirely, leaving a sweaty, goosebump-covered body to heave and sway, nipples as pert as the still twitching clit between your jelly-like legs. It's increasingly hard to focus on anything but the soft murmuring of the candles and the way light flickers off tapestry, but you register the motion of your head being yanked upwards to face Krulu while he rises to pump himself over you feverishly.

The erotic bucking of his hips into several pairs of lewdly moving hands over his own cock is hypnotizing. You can't help but watch his face keep contorting into different expressions of equally intense pleasure, until, all of a sudden, he makes a sound you can only call a roar. Loud and throaty and self-indulgent, reverberating in the very depths of your soul and rattling your skull with its volume.

The first splatter of cum on your body is jarring, eliciting a startled yelp followed by a heated groan when it's followed by more and more shots, all thick coats of Krulu's enjoyment of you. His approval of a brand new servant. Their seed all but leaves no part of you untouched, wide eyes having to shut themselves so as to not get pelted in the process. You can't help gasping and moaning like an animal at the sensation. Globs cascade down your belly and slide across your entrance. There's little else your boiled mind can do aside from merely pant and remain still like a depraved figurine covered in pearly white wax.

" Welcome to The Clergy's Eye, my present. "

Is the last thing you're able to coherently interpret before your mind starts distorting things again.

In between the following moments, could have been seconds or hours for all you'll ever know, you recall the image of a somewhat concerned and agitated green man with a pumpkin for a head looking you over. He murmured something fogged and unintelligible to your drunken self and seemed to carry you elsewhere in a hurry, much too fast for your muddled thought process and reflexes.

The glow of the elevator hurts your eyes.

The ballerina spins slowly on top of her stage, a soft, cheerful tune ringing across paint-splattered orange walls, the sound of rain softly cascading outside adding a homely element to things.

You sigh, comforted, leaning into Vinnel's gloved motions as he ties pink lace around your neck and forms a ribbon on the back. His gurgled hums fall in tune with the melody and he appears to be genuinely content. He always is when he gets to dress you up, it's become a beloved part of his routine.

" There we are, my pretty poppet! Do a spin for me! " The jester suddenly peels back, twirling in the air.

You stand in the frilled pink and white dress outfit he spent the better part of an hour perfecting, feeling gorgeous, softly painted cheeks rising and creasing the corners of your eyes when you smile for him. Grabbing the hem of your dress, you spin twice and feel warm at his exaggerated reaction.

" Uhuhuhuhu! Showstopping! Brilliant! " Vinnel titters, clapping enthusiastically before landing on the ground of his room to lightly boop you on the nose. " You're ready to head out then, missus. "

" Thank you, Vinnel. " And even though you sound perfectly innocent, when you hug him, one of your hands drifts down to palm at the heart shape on his groin, rewarded with a husky growl.

" Go on now, poppet. It's too early for games, you little slut. " He muses, stepping away to open the main door in his room so the two of you can head out.

Today, Admin requested to have breakfast with you, so you dutifully get on the elevator and head to the restaurant floor, finding the woman already seated in a pristine table, waving you over. Your feet quickly trot you over to her, sitting obediently and greeting your superior.

" Well well, look at our little model today. " She teases.

" Ah, thank you! Vinnel outdid himself. "

" Certainly. This is much more palatable than the bruises he likes to put on you usually. " You have to agree with her here, some spots of your body are still sore where he clawed at days ago.

Grimbly eventually zooms his way to the two of you with a tray containing your breakfast. A variety of pastries deposited on your side while Admin seemed to only want her coffee, always a shade of black so intense that it made it look as if she was drinking a void. The waiter wags his tail and beams at you, placing a sweet kiss to your cheek and cooing at your look before being waved away by the brunette.

" How do you feel about your stay here so far? Correct me if I'm wrong, but you didn't appear to regret your decision. " She sips from the steaming cup.

The answer is almost automatic.

" O-Oh, it's been really nice! Everyone wants me here so much, I... I like all my coworkers, it really feels like home. " You confess, feeling a tad sheepish but standing by your words. " I can't describe how fulfilled I am nowadays. I'm happy when... Everyone's happy. It's hard to explain but I really feel like I've gained- "

" Purpose? "

You pause. Yeah. That's precisely the word. How come she's always so right? " Exactly. "

Admin nods, a tiny smile on small lips. She got whatever response she wanted out of you, it appears.

" I'm glad we see things similarly. " Her eyes unfocus, following the swirl of her bottomless coffee cup as if it calls to her sweetly. " It's... Nice, having a human acquaintance here. " It's said with a hint of shock, as if the revelation surprised even her.

You can't help but preen under the praise, offering the woman one of your palmiers. She declines politely, and it's when you return to staring at your plates that you finally see the little note attached to one of them.

Good morning, love. I'll see you soon, hopefully.

A small series of scribbled hearts circle the message, you know exactly who it's from.

" Santi. "

There's a hum from the brunette in front of you. " Mhm, he paid for those. "

" Aw... That's really sweet of him. " Truly, he's always been a sweetheart, since the very start of all this, however long ago that was. Time is barely a concern for you anymore.

" Sometimes he still gloats about being the first you chose, you know? " She grins for a short second. " I think you inflated his ego forever. "

The knowledge makes you actually burst out laughing for a few hearty second where the sound echoes off the vastly empty restaurant. That's adorable, honestly.

" Oh , he might just become my favorite if he keeps buying me treats like this. " A joke you know, had you said it to the rest of them, an argument would instantly break out.

" Why shouldn't he treat you a little today? " Admin's brow rises, head tilted in that way that almost reminds you of Krulu, when he's more comfortable. Still, she knows something you don't, causing you to blink and sit there like a dumbfounded donkey.

" ... You haven't put it together yet, have you? "

No. No, you haven't.

The chestnut-eyed woman crosses her legs and snickers quietly. A couple of seconds pass where she expects you to make a sudden discovery, but the eureka moment isn't coming any time soon.

Finally, she takes mercy on you with a shake of the head. " It's been a year since you were gifted to us. "

...

A year. Has it been that long already? It felt like a miserable few months, if that much. Everything is just so fast here, it really does feel like yesterday when you were screaming at Hellion and Pebble in the garden.

Has it really been that long since you left everything behind?

Strangely enough, bits and pieces of your life before becoming a part of The Clergy are becoming harder to recall in clear detail, faces blur and places become nameless. You don't know what you used to do for a living, or what your routine is. Where did you even live? It doesn't sound important anymore. It isn't.

You're exactly where you should be.

Suddenly, the seat you're currently on ripples and shifts bizarrely, a vibrating purr-like noise spreading across your legs as the chair appears to grow a discolored grayish set of shackled arms and grasps your stocking-clad thighs with them, something wet and slimy brushes against your ankles. The mimic relishes your startled yelp and only holds onto you harder, tittering at having fooled you efficiently. That goofy bastard.

" Hm, they're going to be all over you today... " She sighs like a disappointed babysitter.

" Get ready. "

[ioniansunsets]

AAA HI i adore all your heartsteel content so much!! could i humbly beg for some ezreal content? <3 thank you!!

✖ Heartsteel!Ezreal Crushing On Photographer!Reader ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.3K

✖ Tags: Mutual Pining

✖ A/N: Everyone around you two ships you guys together, you and Ez are just oblivious. Maybe if you guys like this we’ll write a confession or established r/s sometime <3 This is shorter than usual but I hope it's still cute!

✖ Wrote This Listening To: https://open.spotify.com/track/79O9h4Q9w1X6w3tHTJSu8y?si=303aa73e776b48a9 Felt it was appropriately what Ezreal would listen to hype himself up everytime he sees you.

----

How did he even end up like this really.

Ezreal sits quietly in his dressing room. Leg shaking, fingers tapping the table, he’s jittery, anxious, so unlike him. So unlike the proud glimmering star that he knew he was. Like, he knows he looks great, his hair is styled now, he has all his makeup on making his already stunning features all the more enchanting. He’s properly styled in new branded clothes, all pinned to fit him perfectly, his waist and abs on show in the tight fitting top. He knew he looked fucking amazing but for some reason he just couldn’t help but to doubt himself. You were out there waiting after all. You were the one waiting for him to act all cute and charming. You were the one who knew how to make him look the best he ever has in almost every single photo. This was really so unlike him! Ezreal laughs at his insecurities, about to run his hands through his hair before realizing that the hairdresser was glaring at him. He holds back.

Instead, Ezreal sighs. Leaning back into the plush chair. The stylists fussing over him and holding up all these sponsored outfits for him, asking which he wants to wear next for the new magazine spread. Yet…all he can think about is how he would look in front of you. What would you like? Did you even like his type of cute and charming? What if you were more into people like Yone or Kayn. Ezreal pouts just thinking about it. It was unfair that you got to photograph them all, he just wishes he could keep you as his own personal photographer. So unfair that you got to look at all the other guys the same way you looked at him. But honestly, ask anyone of your friends and co-workers and they’ll tell Ezreal how special he was. How his fears were unfounded for he somehow was the perfect model for you. The way all of your best works and award winning shots were of Ezreal? How you stayed up editing multiple photos of his photoshoot photos, wanting him to look as stunning as possible. Everyone could tell you were a big fan, everyone except Ezreal himself.

So as he steps out and the studio lights hit him, the sparkle of his shimmery makeup making him look as ethereal as possible you can’t help but feel a flutter in your chest. Truly stunning, there was no other way to describe this idol other than that he was absolutely stunning.

“ Hey there. Uh yeah, let’s do this.”

Well that was awkward, he gives you a practiced wave and walks over to the set. Sitting with his legs crossed on the decorative throne. Head resting on his hands as he poses himself for you. You snap away, Ezreal fishing for praises from you, a bright smile on his face. Both of you doing your best to ignore the obvious blush on his face, it was just makeup right? Definitely just makeup.

The rest of the shoot went by smoothly. Honestly, being the one to get such up close and personal shots of Ezreal was…nice. After the makeup artist and stylists touch up his makeup, his eyes slowly make their way to you. He watches you fiddle with the camera while the other employees fuss over his hair and face. Taking in the sight of your serious expression as you pick the best shots. The way the corners of your lips curve up into a smile when you find good shots. Laughing softly to himself as he watches your nose crinkle when you scroll past a bad photo. Suddenly you look up and wave at him.

“ Hey Ez, which would be better? I’m not sure if the blue or yellow lights are the way to go for this one so I’m leaving it up to you.”

You call out to him during the break between set changes to take a look. Hand out to beckon him over.

“ Hmm? Can I See?”

Ezreal thanks the stylists working on him before he blinks over behind you. Carefully, he leans over your shoulder, hands reaching over to cover yours as he tilts the camera and the screen up towards him. A slight look of wonder on his face as he flips through the photos, amazed at how good you somehow make him look. Unedited photos and he already looks so good? Damn how did you give him such sex appeal while making him still look so cute. Gods bless you for being good at your job. Clicking left and right over and over before he finally decides on the one he wants.

“ Honestly the blue looks super good on my skin-”

As Ezreal turns to look at you with a smile on his face he pauses suddenly. Alarmingly aware of how his hands are on yours, how your face is a mere breath away, how your back was pressed against his chest, how your gorgeous sparkling eyes widen as you stare back, also suddenly shockingly aware of how close he is to you.

Ezreal swallows hard.

An awkward laugh leaving his lips as he blinks at you. If the two of you weren’t so caught up in the moment, you’d see the other staff members turning to look away, trying to give you two a semblance of privacy during this tender moment.

“ Sorry I didn’t-”

“ No don’t worry I don’t mind!”

After another moment of awkward silence, staring at each other, the two of your burst out laughing. Ezreal giving you a quick hug after he lets go of your hands. Friendly! Nothing too weird or out of character for him! Just Ezreal being Ezreal!

Only the pink dusting on both your cheeks hint at anything more between you two. But he was an idol and you were but his work colleague, a photographer. There can’t be anything between you two. You wave off the thought and thank him for his input as you pull the expensive camera close to your chest again.

“ I’ll uh, work on these and get them back to your manager tomorrow.”

“ Mmm, and thank you for your hard work as always. I look forward to the photos.”

Ezreal’s expression changes to a soft smile as he lovingly looks at you before he pauses and pulls out his phone. Doing his best to change the subject to relieve the awkward tension that now hung in the air around the studio.

“ Oh Yeah! I used our last shoot photo as my wallpaper! It was that good! I forgot to give you feedback on how much I liked it. Or maybe I did…hmm…”

He laughs, holding up his phone screen with a the solo shoot photos from a few weeks back. Trust this proud idol to use his own photos as his lock screen and home screen.

“ I am honored you like it that much then but yes, you blew up my messages with thanks when I sent it to you. Don’t worry, I know you love it.”

As you laugh in return, giving him a similarly warm smile from such close proximity, Ezreal feels his chest tighten. The furious beating of his heart was sure to give him a heart attack. A stupid love struck look on his face now.

“ I’ll go um, change for the next set. See you later.”

Before you can reply he blinks away back into his dressing room. The cycle of anxiety to repeat yet again. This was going to be a long shoot day…