#she talked to a god yet again who she’s trying to save only to be ignored and pressed upon the fact that she’ll lose the woman she loves

[s0fter-sin]

watching the valeria interrogation again and when alejandro says, “you disgrace the army”, rudy steps forward but when alejandro looks over his shoulder at him and says, “and your brothers, no?” he steps back again, almost like he’s trying to pull himself out of the conversation

alejandro leans in close to her and rudy reacts like he wants to pull him away, to protect him from her and from her words, but when he brings up that valeria hurt him too, betrayed him too, rudy retreats like he doesn't want to be reminded of it

it's alejandro who keeps valeria talking about the past, who prompts her to say more when simply saying she's ex-military would've been enough. they bait each other, valeria far more successfully than alejandro; she’s essentially running the interrogation

this speaks volumes of rudy’s interjection of, “he (the son of la areña) was supposed to go to prison”. he’s getting short; cutting off valeria and her excuses, not to redirect them back to the point of the interrogation but bc he’s done with her. rudy’s terser with her, more obviously angry, than he is with an actual terrorist

alejandro can't get past their history; let's himself get pulled off track and compromised but not be he's more upset than rudy. rudy has just repressed the hell out of it; if he doesn't think about it then it didn't happen

but now, he's suddenly being confronted with it head on

"you disgrace the army," is generalised; valeria didn't just hurt rudy, she hurt all of them. it's easier to take

"and your brothers," calls rudy out directly for his pain; pain alejandro wants retribution for and he doesn't want to face it, doesn't want to admit to it bc he doesn’t want to have to feel it

[paperglader]

in this episode Imogen:

Took off her circlet. You know, that one that finally gave her peace and quiet, that soothed her constant pain and anxiety, and that gave her the confidence and energy to get back to fully feeling comfortable on her own skin after years. That’s the one. She just took it off.

Told laudna that she was disgusted by the fact that delilah was always watching them. You know, something that laudna fully has no control over whatsoever.

Admitted that she felt like she’s “tainted” and that the gods have been ignoring her for her entire life, in spite of her trying over and over to reach them. So she doesn’t really want to save them.

Mentioned being genuinely scared of meeting Liliana again. Totally not a problem, I’m sure nothing bad will happen there. Specially not in the next couple of episodes.

Said some unfair stuff to fearne, that I genuinely think is coming from somewhere else entirely, and I hope we circle back to eventually.

It’s safe to say that I am officially ✨worried✨ about the farmgirl

[suni-writings]

Stop hating me.

jude bellingham x fem!reader

wc: 2.1k

+18!! mdni

(content warning: smut, fingering, unprotected sex [have safe sex pls])

ps: it's been a while since i wrote smut pls be nice about it

“Bellingham, we shouldn’t-”

“Save your regret for later, princess,” he cut her off, quickly finding her lips into a sloppy kiss.

Pinned against the wall, with his muscular body pressed against hers, she knew salvation wouldn’t come. There was no god, no force of the nature that could stop what was bound to happen. That could stop them.

“We both are going to regret this,” she mumbled between the kiss, her voice hoarse and low, panting. Why was she even trying to deny it?

“Jesus, princess. Can you shut your fucking mouth for a second?” He asked with a small smirk, his breath sparse. “So feisty. Always wanting to have the last word, always wanting to control everything…”

As the taunting words left Jude’s mouth, his right hand started moving slowly. From her neck to her collarbones, to the valley of her breasts, to her lower belly, applying just enough pressure to hear her pant once again. To hear her losing control, losing her morals and everything she had ever believed happened between them.

“Let it go,” he whispered in her ear, his plump lips brushing against her ear and gently biting her earlobe. “Let it go, doll. Let me take care of you.”

Everything was a mess. This wasn’t the moment nor the place for this to happen. She wasn’t even supposed to do as much as look at him. But something about his unbuttoned social shirt and his now wrinkled suit, the intoxicating smell of his expensive cologne and that goddamn smirk of his made her brain stop working, being guided by something so primal that she had yet to understand.

“It’s- a fucking club bathroom. Anyone could come in-”

Jude just groaned, annoyed and frustrated. He knew he had chosen the only woman who wouldn’t want to take him tonight – but he also knew that was merely a façade. If she thought he didn’t notice her lingering stares, the way she’d hold her breath next to him whenever she was slightly caught by surprise and the desire in her eyes, she was so wrong.

“Let them fucking come. They’ll see me and leave in the same instant. I don’t fucking care if there’ll be headlines about my behavior tomorrow.” He said, staring into her eyes, his tone firm. “Let me take care of you. Know you need it. See right through you, princess.”

She opened her mouth to come with a smart retort, but he was quicker. Jude’s hands went to the back of her thighs, suddenly pulling her and lifting her of the ground with ease. Guiding her to the sink countertop and gently placing her there – perhaps the only gentle act he had and would have throughout the night.

“The more you talk, the more I’ll want to shut you up,” he warned her with a husky tone, his finger under her chin to make sure she was looking at him. “And that’ll just make me tease you more and not give you what you want.”

She gulped and gave him a small nod. She’d never say it out loud, she’d never give him the pleasure of agreeing with him. So difficult, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. After all, he was more than pleased with the challenge of making her scream his name to prove otherwise.

“Good,” he said, his thumb tracing her bottom lip as she looked at him. Uncertainty, desire and frustration placed behind her eyelids. He could see all of that. “You’re so pretty. So desirable,” he whispered, his mouth so close to hers that she could feel his breath. “Wouldn’t want you spending the night with anyone else. It’d fucking kill me, princess.”

She barely remembered how they ended up in that bathroom. How they went from barely looking at each other to this closeness in the span of a few hours. She knew she had drunk as much as him – they wouldn’t be there otherwise. Not when they’ve always claimed to hate each other. If they were in their right minds, they wouldn’t even be in the same room.

She remembered having a man hitting on her as she drank. He was attractive, for sure, but nothing that would make her give him any attention. She remembered smoking her strawberry mango vape when Jude abruptly took it out of her hand when he wasn’t even that close a few moments before. His tight grip on her wrist, not enough to hurt her, but enough to keep it there, guiding her away from the man, was something she couldn’t forget.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She asked him with annoyance as he guided them to a more secluded spot. God, she hated admitting it, but he looked so good in formal clothes.

“Taking you away from that fucking douchebag that was eating you with his eyes,” he retorted, the anger clear in his tone as he gave her back her vape. She quickly put it in her purse. “You have to stop smoking that crap, as well.”

“I’m sorry, but since when did you feel entitle to control my life in any way whatsoever?” She asked with a sarcastic smile, annoyed at his attitude.

“If you think, for a second, I’d let you leave the club with that guy, with someone that’s not even close to your level-” he stopped once he realized what had said. He licked his lips and sighed, his hands resting on his waist as she looked at him with confusion.

“Who would be close to my level, then?” She asked with crossed arms, tilting her head.

Jude just gave her a small, cocky grin that he always carried with him. Thank God for his drinks, because only then he’d have the courage to retort her so easily.

“Who do you think, princess?”

After that, it was all blurry. A mix of tongues against each other, the taste of his strong drinks, his cologne, his hands pulling her closer. The anger, the frustration, the desire – until stumbling upon the bathroom because they had no other choice when lust controlled them so easily.

The feeling of the cold tiles of the countertop and Bellingham’s confession brought her back to the moment, looking into his eyes.

“I wasn’t going to leave the club with him,” she said, her eyes falling to his mouth. So, so close that she could reminisce the taste of it. “I wasn’t going to leave the club with anyone.”

Jude seemed rather pleased by her reply, his body finding a way to be even closer to hers. Despite always trying to say they hated each other; it was always the same – like magnets being drawn. All they had been doing, this whole time, was prolongating the inevitable. He was fucking tired of it.

“Good,” he whispered, his hand slowly travelling to the insides of her thighs, dangerously close to her warmth. She held back a whimper and he grinned at the sight. It was almost as if she was already coming undone from a single movement. “Wouldn’t want anyone but me to have the privilege.”

She looked up at Jude, suddenly realizing how big he was, how easily he was towering her and she could barely see past his long shoulders. With a sudden movement, her arms were now resting on his shoulders, caressing them.

“Need you to say it’s mine, darling. Would you do that for me, hm?” He whispered in her ear, expecting a tantrum, some remark to show how bratty she was. But his fingers were too close to her core for her to even come up with something that smart.

“That what is yours?,” was the best she could come up with, acting innocent despite the way her voice cracked.

Jude, in response, only looked deeply into her eyes as he pressed two fingers to her covered warmth, feeling the damp that was formed.

“That this is mine.” He spoke lowly, pressing his fingers even harder, earning a gasp from her as her eyelids shut, as if she was still trying to hold herself back. To gather some self-control.

“It’s yours,” she whispered. Jude thought about demanding her to speak louder, but it was already so much than he ever expected her to say.

His middle finger tossed her underclothing to the side, his index finger already moving over to her clits with enough pressure, in slow, circle motions.

“Already so wet, princess. All that denial and for what?” Bellingham chuckled lowly, almost as if as taunting her, as if his own underwear wasn’t feeling extremely tight. “Tell me what you want.”

She sighed. She had been holding back for so long that she decided that it wasn’t time to play around anymore.

“Want you to fuck me,” she said, looking into his deep brown eyes in a silent plea.

And how could he ever deny her anything when she was looking at him like that?

He inserted two digits into her core, moving them around her walls, trying to know which spot pleasured her the most just from the way she had to shut her eyelids strongly. She felt so warm and looked so desperate that the bulge in his pants became even more apparent, if that was possible.

“I wish I could just slam myself into you right now,” he whispered in her ear as his fingers began to distance from each other inside her, scissoring her slowly as she gasped. “But I need to get you prepped. Don’t want to hurt you that much.”

When Jude said, her eyes fell to the prominent bulge, realizing how big he actually was and whimpering just from imagining. He chuckled against her ear as she clenched around his fingers, knowing exactly what went on inside her head.

After realizing she was almost about to cum on his fingers, Jude took them off her and she whimpered again at the sudden emptiness. He sucked his fingers as the other hand undid his belt in a single, quick motion. She rushed to help to unbutton his pants, and even more eagerly to help him take his underwear off just enough so his cock would jump out.

As it sprung out, she watched it in all its rigidness. It was bigger than she expected, and his tip was already leaking with precum. It hit her, then, that Jude was just as vulnerable and desperate as she was.

Her hand quickly grabbed his cock, moving slowly and spreading his precum around it so her movements came with more ease. To his own surprise, he moaned, not being able to hold back anymore.

Jude gripped around her wrist, taking her hand away from his member and lining his hips with her entrance. His tip teased her once, twice, threatening to finally go inside her. Eager and impatient, she moved her hips, so he was finally inside her.

He moved slowly as she felt like she was burning from inside out, having a hard time adjusting to his size. As he finally bottomed inside her, Jude gave her some time to get used to it. When she gave him a small nod, that’s when he started moving.

“Shit,” he mumbled in her ear, trying his best to not go too hard. She clenched around him, whimpering and moaning, not bothering anymore to hide a single sound. It was driving him insane. “You feel so, so good.”

“Jude,” she called him out, her eyes closed. He thought it was the prettiest sight he had ever seen – her hair all messy, her dress wrinkled, panting and desperate. If he wasn’t in the same state, he would be taunting her. Usually, that was how he was. But, for some reason, it was different with her. He needed to be inside her.

He didn’t even realize when exactly his thrusts became harder and erratically. He only knew that because she was moaning his name more often, louder.

When he accidentally hit her sweet spot, she saw stars behind her eyes, arching her back and rolling her eyes. God, if she had more of this, she would drool. She couldn’t think – not at all, not when he was slamming into her walls like that.

“Jude, I’m-” she clenched tightly around him, and he moaned.

“I know, baby,” he was panting as well. He needed to make her cum, and perhaps, more desperately, to cum. He didn’t know for how long he could handle it. “Cum for me, princess. You’ve been such a good girl, taking my cock so well. Cum.”

It felt more like he was ordering than praising, but, as soon as she came, he spilled inside her walls.

“Fuck,” Jude said, trying his best to grab for air as his head fell to her shoulders. She caressed him softly. Even though they were both a mess and could barely breathe, he chuckled from her act. Smirking, he looked at her and said: “Was that all I needed to do for you to stop hating me?”

[azrielbrainrot]

Silent Voices Speak

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: Both you and Azriel find yourselves with some sleep related problems. Who would have thought you could be each other's remedy?

Warnings: barely any angst

Word Count: 3400

Notes: I can't believe it took me so long to write a new story in the healer!reader universe, they're my first babies. Hope you enjoy!

Healer!Reader Universe Masterlist

The killings hadn't stopped. The, by now, tripled security slowed them down and allowed the Inner Circle to be made aware of any disturbances quicker, and the bodies hadn't been found by any innocent civilians since then either, thankfully saving a lot of fae from having to witness such gruesome sights, but the killings hadn't stopped.

Your research has given you some clues as to the motives behind the murders, though you still can't fully understand the ritual behind them. None of the information you've gathered has helped in stopping them from happening or finding the people responsible for them. Amren has traveled to the Day Court and is now searching the High Lord's extensive libraries to try and find more information on a lead she got but, for now, there wasn't enough to make anyone feel safer.

The streets of Velaris felt lifeless, bars and restaurants closing earlier than usual given the unofficial curfew every fae seemed to have set for themselves. The City of Dreamers, heart of the Night Court, was scared of the dark. Apart from the killings, that was what weighed the heaviest on the Inner Circle's minds.

Feyre and Rhysand had been forthcoming with information, letting the public know they were actively searching for the killers and sharing some of the details as a means to stop the rumors that kept going around that were only exaggerating the already awful murders the more they spread. Of course, they'd been careful not to reveal any of the more gruesome details, or the fact that everything pointed to the murders actually being sacrifices to what could be an old God or even worse.

Those had been the details keeping you up at night as you were now, sipping on chamomile tea in hopes of relaxing your body enough to get some sleep without any unwanted thoughts filtering through and spoiling it once again. You wanted to help as much as you could, and weren't considering talking to Rhys and backing down as Azriel had suggested multiple times, but you weren't used to witnessing this much cruelty, not like this.

When you'd been stationed as a healer during the war, you saw a lot of awful things, some of them you won't ever forget, but this felt different. Everything about these killings and the motives behind them had set off every alarm in your body.

The cup was empty before you realized, bringing it up to your mouth only to be met with nothing. You let out a sigh and look over to the comfortable bed, knowing you had to at least lay down and try to fall asleep, no matter how frustrating it was to toss and turn for hours on end or get woken up by terrifying dreams. At least this bed was a lot more comfortable than the one you had at home, it almost made you want to ask Rhysand where he got it from although you probably would never be able to afford it.

You're not entirely sure what brought it on but, after coming back from yet another fruitless mission, Azriel asked you to stay in the townhouse with him. You tried to decline, not entirely comfortable with staying at the High Lord's house indefinitely. You've spent some nights up in the House of Wind when you were helping with research, but this was different. You didn't want to take advantage of Rhysand and Feyre's kindness, but Azriel insisted, a tormented look you weren't used to seeing painted in the shadowsinger's face, and so you ended up accepting.

Just remembering your talk that night made you feel hopeless, wanting nothing more than to make him feel better and take some of the unbearable weight off his shoulders somehow.

“I'm not sure this is necessary,” you try to reason with him, “There haven't been any attacks in the city, with so many eyes on the streets it would be impossible.”

“It also seemed impossible for them to be able to hide for so long but even my shadows are blind to them.”

“I can't stay at my High Lord and Lady's home."

“I can't sleep not knowing you're safe,” the admission feels heavy between you, prompting you to study his face carefully, taking note of the fear and desperation behind his request. “I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“Azriel…”

You don't know what to say, not sure what this means for the two of you.

“Please.”

But with that little word he convinced you, not caring if it was Rhysand's house you were going to sleep in, or anyone else's, as long as it made Azriel feel at least a bit more at ease.

Your relationship has been changing ever since that fateful night when he kissed your cheek goodnight. It's a silly thought even now, that something so inconsequential as a peck to the cheek would end up meaning so much for the two of you.

Ever since that day your talks have gotten longer and more frequent, Azriel has also flown you to and from work a few times, has taken you on multiple outings that you can only classify as dates at this point. But things hadn't gotten further than that and more chaste kisses on the cheek.

The timing wasn't right. Not with everything that has been happening and the troubles filling both of your minds, the long hours Azriel had been putting his body through trying to find even the smallest clue about these murders, and your assistance in any research the Inner Circle needs as well as providing mental and physical aid to a terrified city.

Your feelings for him were impossible to deny - even though you've certainly tried to when everyone else asks about him, especially your High Lady, who you've come to learn is an avid busybody, - and you were more than confident that he cared for you just as much, but the timing wasn't right, and so you've been stuck between acting like friends and so much more.

You were still thinking about the shadowsinger when your head hit the pillow, making yourself comfortable and letting your thoughts wander around warm hazel eyes and shy smiles, hopefully lulling you into a peaceful sleep at last.

Rushed murmurs and harsh breaths take you away from the soft grasp of sleep. You try to ignore them at first but as the words grow louder, you try to decipher them confused. A flurry of shadows filters into your room, flying over you when you open your eyes to try and ascertain the situation. You can barely see them with the low lights the moon rays covered by dark curtains provide, but it almost feels like they're tugging at you, urging you to get up.

The thought that Azriel could be in danger makes you leap out of bed, foregoing your robe or slippers as you follow the frantic shadows to his room next to yours. Only hesitating at the door for a moment, knuckles raised against the intricately designed wood as you considered knocking before barging into his room unannounced, but another string of groans and panicked breathing assault your ears, prompting you to open the door.

Your eyes land on the shadowsinger immediately as he lay restless on his bed, blinking a few times as you adjusted to the dim lighting, his room being even darker than yours. A small sigh of relief escapes you when you find him unharmed, although you soon realize that the noises you heard were the result of what appears to be a particularly consuming and terrifying nightmare.

He had struggled so much in his sleep that the sheets were completely thrown off, laying by his feet as his body tossed and turned uninterrupted. A light sheen of sweat covered him, telling you he'd been at this for a while. There was a familiar glint of blue on his nightstand, as Truth Teller and two of his siphons lay close by. You tried not to linger on the fact that he didn't appear to be wearing anything else aside from underwear for too long.

Some of the shadows that swirled around the room meet the ones that had brought you here, moving over you once more as if asking you to save their singer. You wanted to help them, but you're not entirely sure if you should be seeing him like this, if he'd want you to see him so vulnerable.

Aside from that, waking up someone when they were so immersed in a dream, especially a nightmare, could be dangerous and bring more harm than good. Still, you couldn't leave him like this and go back to your room, so you decide to try and call his name softly, hoping the noise or familiarity will be enough to help him wake up in a more organic way.

“Azriel?”

You hesitate in the doorway, feeling like you were already invading his space, but as another weak cry escapes him your body moves on its own. You're at the edge of the bed before you even notice, repeating his name and shaking him softly so as not to startle him too much.

The pain was evident on his face. You didn't know what he was dreaming of but you knew you had to pull him out of there fast. You've never seen him so distressed. Watching him like this felt like a chain was tightening around your heart and lungs, making it hard for you to breathe or think.

At a slightly harder push, his eyes open, one scarred hand moving to grab your wrist, stopping you from touching him as the other went to the nightstand, finding the hilt of his dagger. His hazel eyes were open wide, clearly disoriented by not only the nightmare but also having someone in his room. You expected nothing less from the Spymaster, of course he couldn't be so easily caught off guard even in his own room, but the tight grip was becoming too much, and you knew it was bruising, not being able to stop yourself from cringing softly at the pain.

As he understands the situation, wide eyes blinking multiple times as the waking world comes into focus, he drops your wrist and pulls away from you, sitting up and almost bumping his head against the headboard in his rush.

Neither of you moves or speaks for a moment, his heavy breathing the only thing that can be heard in the dark room. You wanted to turn the faelights on, to properly check on him, but Azriel always prefered the dark, feeling much more at ease surrounded by it. In fact, his shadows had hurried to him as soon as he woke up.

When his wide gaze settles into a frown, hazel eyes dropping to your wrist, you decide to speak up. You know that look and this was not the time for any other worries that might be growing in his mind, certainly none that concerned you.

“Azriel,” you whisper, not wanting to startle him, “Are you okay?”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No-”

“I shouldn't have hurt you,” he says, more to himself than to you, haunted eyes never straying from your wrist. You had only wanted to help, but now it feels like you made it worse by coming here.

“No, it's my fault. I know better than to wake someone up from a nightmare,” you swallow, throat suddenly dry, “but it looked like you were in pain and I couldn't leave you like this.”

He seemed unwilling to listen to you, a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head the only answer he gave you as you told him it wasn't his fault. Azriel is always too aware of himself, never allows himself any mistakes, as if he thinks he has to prove himself worthy of the life he leads. You don't even want to know what's going through his head now that he's convinced himself he hurt someone he cares about.

You let out a sigh when it was clear he wasn't going to say anything or acknowledge you further, you could almost see him receding into his own mind, getting consumed by his betraying thoughts. If you had listened to your training, you might not have ended up in this situation.

Slowly and very carefully, you move closer to him, giving him time to push you away or stop you if he wanted to. You only stop when your bare knee brushes his thigh, the warmth of his skin spreading through yours. Reaching for his hand, you interlock your fingers and squeeze softly, his eyes finally meeting yours.

“I shouldn't have grabbed you like that.” The pain was evident in his face, and it hurt you far more to think he was beating himself up than your wrist ever did. “I'm sorry.”

“There's no reason to be sorry,” you smile up at him, trying your best to soothe him, “You were disoriented and moved to protect yourself, that's all.”

He still looks unwilling to let go of his guilt, but you can see him settling back into himself, his usual calm expression falling over his beautiful face. He lets go of your hand in favor of cradling your wrist, carefully inspecting it as if he was looking at a broken bone and not at a bruise that would be completely healed within the hour. Caressing the soft skin with his thumb lightly, the scarred skin and affection behind the movement causing goosebumps to erupt.

“You didn't answer my question. Are you alright?”

Azriel looks up at you then, a conflicted look falling over his face once more. It seems he had been too focused on your wrist to remember the nightmare, and the fact that you'd seen him like that. You're almost positive he hates the fact that you've seen him like that even more than whatever haunted his nightmares. He's always been an extremely private person, so you can't even imagine what it feels like for him to be seen in such a vulnerable light by someone he barely knows.

“Did I wake you?”

“No,” the expression on his face telling you he doesn't believe it, “You didn't. I've been finding it hard to sleep with everything that has been going on.”

“You're safe here.”

“I know, I've just had too much on my mind.” It feels like you're doing this wrong, you're the one that should be worried about him, not the other way around. “Your shadows came into my room and I heard movement so I came to check on you.”

Disapprovement flashes in his eyes, directed at his shadows of course. You'd find it adorable how he treats his shadows like misbehaving children if it weren't for the situation. Hopefully he won't be too harsh on them, you can almost feel the lecture coming. You're not entirely sure how much they can feel, if they can at all, but they had done good in going to find you, even if Azriel reprimanded them for it.

“I didn't know they could do that without you being conscious. They were very helpful,” you smile down at the dark wisps stationed over his shoulders. He clearly didn't agree with you, a soft scoff escaping his lips, but you hope this is enough for them to know they can come to find you in this type of situation from now on. You don't want Azriel to suffer on his own when you're there for him.

“Thank you,” you look up at him in surprise, “You didn't have to come. It was only a nightmare.”

It's not as surprising that he doesn't want to tell you what the nightmare was about, or even change the subject. If he wants to pretend this never happened come morning, you're more than welcome to oblige, as long as he feels better and knows you're always ready to lend a helping hand.

“You can come to me for anything, Azriel,” your hand finds his once again, thumb caressing the scarred skin on the back of his hand. “I'll always be here for you.”

He holds your gaze in an intense stare, the swirl of emotions written in his eyes becoming almost too much to bear, and still you're unable to break away from the all-consuming hazel. It seems like the world stops around you for a moment, and there's only you and him.

As your surroundings return slowly, you suddenly become too aware of the position you're in, of what it would look like if someone walked in. They would find you sitting on his bed, right next to him, lost in his eyes, hands clasped together between you, disheveled hair and half lidded eyes. The lack of clothing only added to the sight, you had never been so conscious of how short and thin the nightgown you wore to sleep was. You can only be grateful that Azriel doesn't sleep completely naked, though his underwear barely leaves anything to the imagination, and your imagination is desperate to run wild.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as the thought settles in your mind, clearing your throat softly to try and break yourself out of those thoughts. Looking up at the suddenly captivating pattern painted on his dark navy walls when his gaze becomes too much. You could swear you saw the corner of his lip rise as he likely noticed the effect he had on you. This was a good thing, it was like the Azriel you're used to, but you needed to get back on track.

“Do you think you can go back to sleep?” You try to untangle your fingers from his but he holds onto your hand, unwilling to let go of you just yet. “I can get you some tea to help you relax if you can't, or maybe we could go for a walk instead?”

Tiring him out could be a good idea, although his body is probably beyond exhausted from the long hours he's been putting himself through. Maybe tea was the best option.

“Can you stay with me?”

His words cut through your racing thoughts, your lips parting in surprise. You had half expected him to kick you out of his bedroom when he came to, inviting you into his bed was the last thing you would have seen coming.

“What?”

“I think I can sleep if you stay,” he whispers, “but if you don't feel comfortable-”

“I don't mind staying,” you rush to assure him with burning cheeks, thankfully matching his own, “You just caught me off guard that's all.”

Azriel offers you a tired smile and, with a wave of his hand, fixes the sheets, moving to the middle of the bed so you have enough room to settle next to him. Your movements are painfully awkward as you lay down next to him, all too aware of every inch of your body, heart beating out of your chest.

While you're in the middle of deciding how to safely position your hands, stiff body frozen in place, he takes matters into his own hands, an achingly fond smile playing at his lips, his hand falling to the small of your back and pulling you in closer to his body, his scent enveloping you.

Azriel closes his eyes, breathing out a soft, “relax.” Your hand finds his chest, body slowly but surely melting into him as you do as he says and will your mind to stop wandering. Letting the soft beats of his heart calm yours, you decide to listen to your body, and fall into him, arm wrapping around his waist as you inch even closer, your chest finding his, tangling your legs until you can't know where you end and he begins. His grip on you tightens as a satisfied sigh escapes him, one heavy wing falling over your body, until you're impossibly close.

Your face now only a breath away from his, your nose bumping into his chin as he drops a soft kiss to your forehead and nuzzles into you, breathing you in. You almost catch yourself purring as you lay in his arms, completely surrounded by Azriel.

Tangled up in each other's warmths, sleep found you both easily, finally allowing you a few peaceful hours of sleep after the grueling weeks you've endured.

[cjlouwho]

tags: violence (gay bashing), homophobic slurs, blood, hurt/comfort, angst, healing, heading toward getting back together, happy-enough ending

(ao3 link or read below)

Like Fine China

“Hey, I need you to keep your eyes open for me, okay? You hear me? Try to keep your eyes open.”

He recognized that voice. The last time he'd heard it was just a few weeks ago, at the hospital. Who was it for though? Why was he at the hospital that time?

His brain felt like a jumbled mess. His body felt even worse.

He just wanted to sleep.

“Tommy! Tommy, can you hear me?”

Athena! That's who was speaking to him.

He opened his mouth, cracked one eye open. God, it hurt!

“I- I'm,” the words felt foreign as they escaped him. His voice didn't sound like his own. His mouth was dry, and held a bad taste.

Whiskey and... and metal.

Blood.

“Tommy, paramedics are on their way, okay? I just need you to stay with me until they get here.”

It was dark, but something was shining bright in his face.

“Flash... Flashlight,” he managed to get out, squeezing his eye back shut.

“Eyes- Eye open, Tommy. I'll get the flashlight out of your face, but I need to know you're with me.”

Wait. Had she said paramedics? They couldn't. He couldn't let them- let him see.

“No, no, no,” he mumbled out, shaking his head a couple times until a sharp pain shot through it. “No, h- he can't. I don't-”

“They're not on shift, Tommy.”

He tried to push himself up, away from where she hovered over him. He didn't manage to get very far before she placed a hand on his chest.

“Tommy, you cannot get up. I need you to stay still, and stay conscious. Those two things are your only jobs. You hear me?”

“I can't,” his words were so garbled. He coughed up the blood that'd been dripping down his throat.

I can't let him see.”

“Listen to me, Tommy!” Athena exclaimed, getting right in Tommy's face. He could barely see her, but he could feel her breath on his face. “They're not coming. Buck isn't coming; it'll be someone else.”

In the distance, he heard the sound of sirens. He didn't feel relief. Didn't feel much of anything at all. He was fading, fast. It took all his energy to force out one last sentence before he lost consciousness. “Don't... Don't tell him.”

*****

He just wanted to go out for a drink. Something a little stronger than craft beer.

It'd been two weeks since he broke up with Evan- no, Buck. He was Buck now.

It'd been two weeks since he broke up with Buck and the ache in his chest felt the same way it did the second he walked out of the loft.

He'd thought he was saving himself from future heartbreak, and maybe he was, but it didn't quite make it hurt any less.

Georgie's wasn't exactly a gay bar, but Georgie was gay and the bar itself became a sort of unofficial hang out for older people in the lgbtq+ community. No loud music and everyone left each other alone. A perfect place to decompress while still allowing yourself to be free.

After a couple of whiskey sours, and yeah, a pitcher of craft beer, Tommy was ready to go.

He waited outside, near the alleyway, for his Uber. He found himself going to his messages, hovering over Evan's name. He hadn't had the heart to change it to Buck yet.

He'd been wanting to text him since the breakup. Talk about it some more. Actually give a reason for why it- why he- fell apart so fast. How Buck's words triggered some terrible memories for him. How he suddenly realized there was no way he could be everything he thought Buck needed. Everything Buck deserved. Not to mention they hadn't even exchanged I love you's. And it was insane to think all of Tommy's things could fit in Buck's loft. Buck's things could fit in his house so much easier!

He clicked on Evan's name, started to type something out, erased it, started again, erased it again.

He was usually so aware of his surroundings. His time in the military did that to him. It did a lot of things to him actually, many of which he wasn't very thankful for. However, he prided himself on not being oblivious.

Tonight he was oblivious.

He didn't expect five men to jump him at once. He was a strong guy. Had taken on three men about fifteen years earlier. Did it with ease too.

But not five men. Not when one had a bat, and one had brass knuckles, and one was at least 6'5 and three hundred pounds. Not when they dragged him to the ground and into the alley before he had a chance to react. Screaming slurs at him as they took turns using his body as a punching bag.

He tried to fight. At one point, he was sure he kicked one of the guy's in the face. Heard him yell something like, “The fag broke my tooth!”

It only made things worse.

He wasn't sure when he first lost consciousness, but he knew they were still on top of him. Still laughing as they hit and kicked. He heard the sounds of someone spitting at some point. Felt wet on his face.

Then there was nothing.

Until someone stepped out from somewhere, and maybe they heard him groan? Maybe it was his Uber driver wondering where he was? Maybe it was an employee taking out the trash? He wasn't sure. He could barely hear someone telling him they were calling the police. There was a ringing in his ears, and his lungs felt like they were on fire. Someone said something about wheezing, barely breathing. He wondered what that was about.

Then there was Athena. Then nothing again.

*****

The next time Tommy opened his eyes, he was in a dimly lit hospital room. He was confused. Could barely see out of one eye and everything was blurry out of the other.

His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and maybe some tiny humans hitting his brain with hammers.

“Are you... awake awake or not really awake?”

The sound of a man's voice startled him. He couldn't hardly move, but he was able to focus his eyes across the room at the figure in the corner.

“Ed- Eddie?”

God, his voice sounded weird. Why did it sound like that? Like he'd spent the last 30 years smoking a pack a day.

“Yeah, I'm here.”

He sounded hesitant. Maybe they'd had this conversation before? If they had, Tommy certainly didn't remember it.

“Wha- Why?”

Eddie stepped closer. “You're in the hospital, Man.”

Tommy wanted to roll his eyes. No duh.

He settled for clearing his throat, which turned into a burning sensation running down his chest. “Why're you... here?” he tried. Hoped Eddie understood that much.

“Tommy-”

“I t- told Athena-” he had to pause to take a breath. “Told her not to tell.”

“Actually, you told Athena not to tell him. And she assumed, correctly, I'm sure, that him was Buck. So she called me instead.”

Tommy closed his eyes. “Why?”

“Why'd she call me? Oh, maybe because you don't have anyone listed as an emergency contact and you were nearly beat to death so she figured you might need someone to be here when you woke up.”

Tommy's jaw clenched at Eddie's harsh words.

Nearly beat to death.

He was nearly beat to death.

Eddie either noticed Tommy's heart rate going up on the monitor, or his eyes filling with tears, because he was right beside his bed in two strides. “Sorry,” he said. “Sorry, I- I'm kinda pissed, Man.”

“S'okay,” Tommy replied, swallowing hard. “I deserve it.”

Eddie looked taken aback. “No, I'm not- Tommy, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at this,” he said, gesturing over Tommy's body. “I've never seen...” Eddie's voice trailed off and, through Tommy's own blurry vision, he could see that Eddie was close to crying.

“What'd they do to me?” Tommy asked, barely able to take in all his injuries. His entire body hurt, no part any worse or less than the other. He could feel something on every limb, but he couldn't quite move his head around enough to see what it was.

Eddie took a deep breath. He wiped at his eyes with his fingers, sniffling before getting started. “You've got bruising on about seventy-five percent of your body. You had surgery for a busted kneecap on your right knee. Your left arm has a fracture, and your right one has thirty stitches, I think. They broke a few ribs, so it's gonna hurt like hell when you take a deep breath or cough. Um, you had some internal bleeding, but they got that under control pretty fast. You've got a fracture in your cheek, which may cause some extra pain when you talk. You've got a few broken fingers too, and lost a couple fingernails during your- when you were defending yourself.”

“Hm,” Tommy hummed once Eddie was done. “S'that all?”

Eddie shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I'm sure I missed a couple things, actually, jackass.”

Tommy let out a laugh, which quickly turned into a groan. “Thanks for coming, Eddie,” he said, trying and failing at moving himself into a slightly more comfortable position. “You don't have to stay though. I'll be fine.”

Eddie stared at him incredulously. “You're kidding me.”

Tommy shifted his eyes back in Eddie's direction. “No, I- I'll be okay. I've got it. Just,” he paused to take a breath, “don't let Buck know, please.”

Eddie raised a finger toward Tommy. “Well, see, about that. You only told Athena not to tell him before, and-”

“You didn't.”

“-and see he was already at my place when I got the call, so-”

“Please tell me you didn't.”

“I have one with cream and one with sugar and- Oh my God, you're awake!” The sound of Buck's voice had Tommy's head twisting toward the door so quickly that a pain shot from the bottom of his back all the way to the top of his head. “Ow!” he yelped, clenching his teeth and tossing his head against the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Oh my God. Has the nurse come in yet? Have they checked his vitals? Eddie, you said he'd be out for a while! Tommy, do you feel any nausea? Do you remember who we are? The nurses said you might have-”

“Buck!” Eddie exclaimed. “Stop. He's okay.” He glanced over at Tommy, “I did forget to mention the head trauma.”

Tommy groaned, giving him a glare.

Eddie walked over to Buck and took the drink carrier from his hands. “I'll go find a nurse, you stay with him.”

Tommy wanted to yell out to Eddie to please not go, and also screw you, and maybe throw a couple hand gestures in there too. He stayed silent instead.

Buck looked Tommy up and down, hesitating slightly before walking up to the side of the bed. “So, you're-”

“I want to see myself,” Tommy blurted.

“Oh, um, I... Tommy, I don't. It might be better to wait.”

Tommy managed to move his head enough to look up at Buck. He could see the fear- no, the panic- in Buck's eyes.

“I wanna see," he repeated.

“Tommy-”

“Buck!” It took a lot of strength to get his name out so forcefully, and he didn't quite mean it to sound as angry as it did, but this wasn't Buck's decision. It was his. And he wanted to see what he looked like.

Buck pulled his phone from his back pocket, his hands shaking slightly as he pulled up the camera.

Slowly, he lifted the phone up to Tommy's face.

The second it registered that he was looking at himself, Tommy sucked in a breath. He grimaced as pain radiated through his chest but, when Buck went to move the camera away he stopped him. “No,” he said. “Just. Just wait.”

He knew his eyes were swollen by how out of focus his vision was, but he had no idea just how bad they looked. The right was worse than the left, but both were an angry mixture of black, purple, and green. The bruise on the left side of his face ran down his cheek to his jaw, circling underneath his chin like a half moon and fading into his facial hair. There were marks on his neck. Looked like someone's hand. He could understand Eddie's hesitancy on mentioning that. He didn't remember anyone gripping him there, which was probably for the best.

His forehead had more bruises, and cuts too. There was dried blood at his hairline, some stitched up cuts. His curly hair was nearly matted to his head, his scalp a brutal crimson.

“I tried to wash the blood out of your hair with a washcloth,” Buck explained anxiously, “but you have some lacerations on your scalp and I didn't want to bother them until they healed a little more.”

It was all so overwhelming. There was a whirring sound in his ears that made him feel dizzy. His eyes burned as they filled with tears that he didn't have the strength to wipe away.

“Okay,” he said, his voice uneven. He cleared his throat. “Can you- You can go, please. I don't... You can go.”

“Tommy-”

“Ev- Buck, I'm awake, I'm fine, I don't need anyone here.” He stared straight ahead, unable to look Buck in the eyes. “Please.”

“No.”

Tommy really didn't feel like dealing with stubborn Evan right now. “I don't-”

“I don't really care, Tommy. I'm not leaving you here. I've been at this damn hospital for three days now and I'm staying until you go home. I don't care what-”

He was cut off by the sound of footsteps behind him.

“Got the nurse,” Eddie said, an awkward smile on his face. The nurse, to her credit, ignored all the tension in the room.

“Let me get some hand sanitizer and gloves and I'll be right with you, Mr. Kinard.”

Buck sighed. He stepped even closer to Tommy. “I'm gonna go into the hall long enough for the nurse to check you out,” he said, maneuvering himself until he was halfway leaning over the bed, his arm on the other side of Tommy to prop himself up as he forced him to make eye contact. “I will be back in a few minutes. You have people who care about you, Tommy, whether you like it or not.”

With that said, Buck stood back up and left the room.

*****

Tommy spent a few more days in the hospital before he was released. There were only two times that Buck left long enough to get a shower and get a little rest in a real bed. Both of those times, he made sure Eddie was there the entire time.

Athena had come in to get his statement. Asked him all sorts of questions, most of which Tommy couldn't answer. He hadn't really gotten a good look at them. Only had very basic descriptions. He remembered the slurs they had hurled at him, knew they attacked because he was gay. He couldn't really figure out how they knew though. Besides being outside of that bar, it wasn't like Tommy ever did anything that screamed gay. Not that it mattered.

She'd been honest with him. There were no cameras at that part of the street, or in the alleyway. No one got a good description of the attackers, and the person who called the police only saw their shadows as they disappeared into the night. She'd do everything she could, but it wasn't likely they'd find these men. At least, not until they did this again.

Bobby stopped by once with some homemade chicken noodle soup. Buck had to feed him every bite, which made Tommy feel like he was about to cry the entire time, but he managed half a bowl before he had to stop. It was a million times better than anything the hospital had been feeding him, and he was glad to know Bobby had put some in his freezer to give Tommy when he got home.

Chim and Maddie came one evening. He'd been asleep when they got there, woke up some time during their visit, but he kept his eyes shut until they left.

Honestly, every time someone walked through the doors he felt more and more like running out of the hospital and finding a hole to fall into. Then, if he were lucky, someone would just shovel some dirt over him and let him rest.

These weren't his people. They were Buck's people. They didn't need to be there for him. They needed to hate him. They needed to laugh at his bruises and tell him he deserved every last one. They needed to yell at him for breaking Buck's heart to try and save his own.

That'd be a lot easier than this.

Thankfully, Hen and Karen didn't come by. They did send flowers though, and a card that explained both kids had strep throat and they didn't want to risk bringing that to the hospital. They'd come by Tommy's place once he was home.

He and Buck didn't talk about anything that needed to be talked about. All the unsent messages that had swirled through Tommy's mind didn't matter right now. It was like an unspoken rule between the two of them. Right now was not the time to try and fix whatever happened between them. Right now was about Tommy healing.

*****

As soon as they got Tommy home, Buck left Eddie with him so he could go to the pharmacy and pick up his medications. When he got back, Eddie headed out to go home and rest, promising to come back later with a variety of foods that would be easy on Tommy to eat.

The silence felt more... silent at Tommy's house. It was different now that they were at home instead of a hospital with people coming in and out at all times.

Tommy needed to do something, say something, to break the silence.

“I wasn't on a date,” he muttered out as Buck organized his pain meds on his nightstand.

Buck paused briefly before getting right back to it. “Didn't think you were.”

Tommy nodded. “Okay. I just, I don't know, didn't want you to think that.”

“You go to Georgie's when your brain is working overtime and you need it to quiet down.”

Tommy's eyebrows furrowed. “I didn't know I ever told you that.”

“You didn't,” Buck replied, handing Tommy his pills and a glass of water. “I just know you.”

Tommy swallowed the pills, wincing slightly. His throat still felt scratchy even a week later. “I don't know how they knew,” he said as Buck took the water from him and set it on his nightstand.

“Who knew what?”

“Those guys that-” he stopped. “I don't know how they knew I was gay.”

“A lot of queer people hang out at Georgie's,” Buck answered. “They probably took a guess.”

The thought of it made Tommy's stomach lurch. “I've spent most of my life trying to make sure people couldn't guess.”

Buck watched him for a moment quizzically. “Tommy, you're not... You don't blame yourself for this, do you? You know this wasn't your fault, right?”

Tommy avoided eye contact with Buck. He felt so small right now. “I know I didn't do anything to provoke them.”

“That doesn't really answer my question.”

“I just... I don't know what I could have done differently. I know I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. I... I should probably go to a different bar, maybe. I don't know.”

“You can't be serious right now.”

“This is everything I feared my entire life, Buck,” Tommy admitted and, God, he wished he could shut up right now. The pain pills were starting to make him a little loose lipped, mixed with him truly being alone with Buck for the first time since they broke up, mixed with an undeniable fear every time he thought about that night, seemed to make it impossible to close his mouth. “I did everything to make sure nothing like this would ever happen to me and it still did. I keep thinking about it and wondering how it could have been different. How I could have been different.”

“Tommy, can you look at me?”

Slowly, Tommy looked up at Buck, his eyes shining with tears.

“This was not your fault. There's nothing you could or should have done differently. You cannot let those five men shove you back into a closet.”

“I-” Tommy cleared his throat. “They're not. It's just... a lot right now.”

“I get that, I- I do. You look tired. Why don't you rest for a bit, okay? I'll be here when you wake up.”

“Buck, you don't-”

“If you tell me I don't need to stay I will force feed you bone broth when you wake up.”

Tommy shivered. “Ugh! I hate bone broth.”

“I know you do.” Buck gently pulled a pillow out from under Tommy, allowing him to lie back easier. “Close your eyes, get some rest. I'm here when you need me.”

*****

They were bound to fight sometime. Tommy had honestly expected it to happen sooner. Buck had been staying with him for three weeks now, only gone when he was working a shift. Bobby had let him work part time for now, with Carla caring for him when Buck was gone.

They'd managed to get past the initial awkwardness. Buck rambled about any and every subject he could think of. They'd watch movies together on the couch, with Tommy falling asleep halfway through due to his pain meds.

Buck would get Tommy tucked in bed, then set himself up on Tommy's floor in case he was needed during the night. Tommy had tried to insist he use the spare room, but Buck wouldn't hear of it. He knew Tommy wouldn't call for him if he needed him through the night.

Then Tommy tried to suggest he sleep in the bed. But that was a no go because, “I kick, Tommy, you know this. Do you really want another knee surgery?”

They'd been focused on Tommy getting better. And they'd been ignoring the many, many elephants in the room.

So, a fight was expected.

What wasn't expected was for the fight to start because Tommy needed to pee.

Buck had seemed a bit more on edge today, but Tommy chalked that up to a shift that ran longer than expected.

Tommy had grabbed his crutches, which he'd just been able to start using to go short distances. He still didn't quite trust himself to use them at night, but he was working toward relying on them more and relying on people less.

When he stood, Buck immediately stood with him.

“I'm fine, Buck. I just need to go to the bathroom.”

“I'll help you there.”

“I'm really fine. I can get there by myself.”

Tommy was sure he had kept his tone neutral. He definitely didn't want an argument tonight. But, before he could even make it two steps, he heard Buck scoff. “Not surprised.”

And maybe it was the full bladder making him extra bitchy, but Tommy couldn't help turning around and asking, “What's that mean?”

Buck shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nothing.”

“Obviously it's not nothing. If it were nothing you wouldn't have said anything in the first place. What doesn't surprise you?”

“Just you, ya know, pushing people away. It's what you do.”

“Ha!” Tommy laughed out. “If I'm pushing people away then I really suck at it because you haven't left my house in three weeks. I just need to pee.”

“I'm not talking about right now. I'm talking about me telling you that I loved you and you breaking up with me.”

How in the hell did they end up here?

“You didn't tell me you loved me, Evan!” Tommy exclaimed, unbelievably confused. The sudden change in tone caused Buck to take a step back.

He was only thrown off for a second, quick with a retort. “Of course I did!”

“No, you absolutely did not! You asked me to move in with you, but you did not tell me you loved me.”

“Wait. You asked him to move in with you?” Eddie's voice had them glaring in his direction. Both had forgotten he was even there in the first place. He raised his hands. “Sorry.”

“Well, I- it was obviously implied,” Buck argued. “I wouldn't have asked you to move in if I didn't love you.”

“How the hell was I supposed to know that?! You were making it sound like I was some gay hero that sewed the first pride flag! I don't even go to pride events, Evan! All the colors are far too bright and the glitter never leaves you.”

“Glitter is really annoying,” Eddie agreed.

Tommy pointed a crutch at him. “Thank you.”

“I was not trying to make you out to be some gay hero, Tommy! I was telling you that I was comfortable with you. I was telling you I wanted to spend all my time with you. I wanted us to be together!”

“You didn't even think it through, Evan!” Tommy motioned around the room. “I own a home. It comes with two bedrooms that have doors, a garage, a back yard, and two and a half bathrooms. You asked me to move into your loft.”

Eddie shook his head. “Oh, Buck.”

Buck's eyes shot over to him. “You're still here why?”

Eddie stood from his spot on the couch, grabbing his coat. “Yeah, I'm going. Later.”

They both stayed silent until they heard the door open and close.

Buck opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “This is our first fight, isn't it?”

Tommy nodded. “It is.”

“Took us long enough.”

Tommy managed a small smile. “Probably should have fought you that night, honestly.”

“I think I would have felt better if you did.”

“Me too.” Tommy took a deep breath. “I actually really do have to pee,” he said, shifting from one crutch to the other. “Can we pause this until I'm done?”

Buck nodded. “I'll be here.”

They didn't actually fight anymore after that. It was time for Tommy to take his meds, which made him tired, and Buck was tired himself from his shift. Tommy laid in bed, Buck snoring on the floor beside him, thinking it all over. All the things he still felt like he needed to say. The unfinished business they had between them.

The fight wasn't much, but it was something.

It was enough.

For now.

*****

“Are you sure you're good on your own?” Buck asked as Tommy limped behind him toward the door.

“I'm sure. I can successfully do everything on my own now with minimal to no pain.”

Buck turned back to him quickly, eyes wide. “But there's still pain?”

Tommy smiled. “I'm fine, Evan.”

Buck didn't look so sure. “Okay, I... Okay.” Instinctively, he moved forward to wrap Tommy in a hug. He stopped himself before he got too close, but Tommy responded by opening his arms.

Buck's posture relaxed as he gently wrapped his arms around Tommy, careful not to squeeze too tightly. "I was so worried about you," he whispered in the space between them.

"I know."

“You'll call the number I gave you?” he asked.

“I already did yesterday,” Tommy admitted. “When you went out to pick up dinner. My first session is next Monday.”

“Good. That's... That's good.”

“Thank you, Evan. For everything you've done for me. You didn't have to do that.”

Reluctantly, Buck pulled himself away from Tommy.

“Did you realize you've been calling me Evan since our fight a couple weeks ago?” he asked, lips upturning into a smile.

“Oh, um,” Tommy shifted on his feet, taking the pressure off his bad knee. “Sorry. Habit.”

“Don't be sorry. I hate when you call me Buck.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I'll always- I wanna be Evan, to you.”

Tommy nodded, staring into Evan's eyes. “Okay. That's. I'd like that too.”

Buck continued toward the door, stopping again as soon as his hand touched the handle. He looked back. “Hey, Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time you think about texting me... hit send, okay?”

Tommy had never mentioned that before. But he'd caught Buck's near-texts to him too, so it didn't quite catch him off guard. “I'm kinda a mess, Evan. I'm not as comfortable as you think I am. I'm not... I'm still figuring things out.”

“That's okay. I am too. Text me anyway.”

“Even if I'm asking you out for a coffee? So we can talk? Really talk?”

“Date and time, I'll be there.” Buck smiled softly at him as he opened the door to leave. “I'll get your order right this time.”

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Lovers

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader (y/n)

Warnings: smut!!, cheating

the background of the story: a few months ago you decided to visit your friend Sophie who lives in Monaco. Sophie has been in a relationship with Carlos for a while, and his teammate Charles is in a relationship with a girl (Ava) who isn't with him for the right reasons and doesn't really care about him. due to a combination of circumstances, you stayed in Monaco to live in Sophie's apartment and started running social networks for Ferrari, filming behind the scenes and similar things. From the very beginning, you and Charles have a love-hate relationship. He keeps sending you mixed signals and you never know where you're standing with him. A few weeks before you locked yourself out of the apartment, you shared a kiss that you couldn't stop thinking about…and neither could he.

Y/n's POV

After about half an hour of waiting in front of the locked door, the elevator opens and the eagerly awaited Charles steps out. Of course he had to be the one to come and 'save' me because who else would it be? Our relationship has not changed much in these months. Somehow I also accepted that that kiss happened once and that was it. After all he is taken so I forced myself to stop thinking about him entirely.

As he steps out of the elevator, at first he doesn't say anything but just smirks at me.

"Please, just don't say anything." I say as he comes in front of me pulling out the keys from the pocket of his jeans. He was looking as handsome as always wearing a simple white oversized t-shirt and light washed baggy jeans. No one could ever pull off rings, bracelets and sunglasses the way he does with his perfectly messy curls.

"Y/n." He says putting the key into the lock. "Wasn't going to." As the door finally opens I see smoke coming from the kitchen. My lasagna..

"No, no, no, no!" Horrified and worried, I start repeating, running towards the kitchen, begging God that I didn't set someone else's kitchen on fire and that only the lasagna was harmed.

"What is happening?" Charles runs after me.

"Oh thank God.." I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that nothing is burning in the kitchen except for my lasagna, which turned completely black.

"What exactly are you thanking God for?" He asked mockingly, watching me take the tray of unrecognizable lasagna out of the oven.

"I'm thanking Him for not accidentally setting this whole apartment on fire."

"You're a real danger Y/N." He laughs leaning over the counter. "Like in every possible way." And I join him. I feel like I'm in love with these so beautiful and yet so rare moments of laughter with Charles.

"Thank you for coming here with the keys. I really don't know how else I'd manage to enter the apartment since Sophie and Carlos are in Madrid."

"That lasagna would be a nice thank you for having to come here, but since you're such a great cook.." He mocks again, but I don't mind it.

"Oh stop it!" I wave my hand and open the fridge to see what's left in there. "Well, I don't have anything else left to offer you except beer?"

"I'll take it."

One beer for me, one for him, one for him, one for me, and then again one for him, one for me and so the hours went by without even realizing that it was already dark outside. We were sitting on the floor on the carpet in front of the couch. The TV was on, but we got into talking so much that no one paid attention to it.

"I still can't believe Carlos and Sophie are getting married." Charles says taking another sip from the bottle.

"I personally think it's a bit too fast 'cause they've been together for only like a year, but if they feel like that's it, then I'm all for it. He's head over heels for her."

"Yeah, I guess when you know you know."

"Besides, it's perfect timing since she's pregnant with him so-"

"What?!" At that moment I realize that my tongue works faster than my mind and I pour out Sophie's secret to Charles.

"Oh no no! Forget it please!" I don't know what was I trying to achieve with this? Maybe erase his memory?

"Sophie's pregnant? Carlos is going to be a dad?!" He asks unable to wrap his mind around the fact.

"Yes, yes they're having a baby, but please be quiet about it because literally no one knows but me. Carlos is just about to find out."

"Oh my God..I can't believe it." I notice that his face drops a bit. He doesn't seem all that excited about the rather exciting news. After all Carlos is his best friend. Or at least one of them.

"What?" I ask. "Aren't you excited for him?"

"I am, of course. But it just got me thinking how so much good things is happening to him - he's getting podiums, every weekend he gets better and better, he's getting married, now excepting a child and then I'm over here feeling like I'm fucking stuck in a place..I don't know." This is the first time that after 3 and a half months of knowing Charles he is showing his vulnerable side. He is finally opening up to me and we're finally having a meaningful conversation.

"Why are you feeling stuck in a place?"

"I don't know how to explain it. Nothing's pushing me forward, I feel empty. I feel like I'm waiting on something, but it's not coming." I'm trying to read between the lines what he is trying to tell with this, but unsuccessfully. "I'm fucking struggling."

"Charles.." I listen to him with a heavy heart and wish to hug him and wipe the sadness away. "I'm sorry that you feel this way. What about Ava? Shouldn't she be your motivation?"

"She should be my motivation." He says with a sneer. "Except that's not the case. I once wanted her to be the one to push me forward, but now I'm not even sure if I want it to be her. She's never fucking there and I got tired." I remember when Lando said that he's never talking about his relationship with them and yet here he is talking about it to me, almost a stranger to him, even though it's obviously painful for him to share his feelings.

"If the relationship no longer makes you happy and fulfilled, then why not put an end to it?" I honestly ask him dying to know his answer.

"It's not as simple as it seems. She's Ava Wolff." He says taking a look at my eyes. "And I would like to change the subject now."

"Okay." I decide not to push it. The time will come when he will say that too. "But, just so you know I like you tonight." I say trying to light up the mood and succeed when he chuckles.

"Really? Well I guess better late than never. But, just so you know I've liked you since the Monaco GP." He says and starts playing with the red bracelet I gave him that day for good luck remembering how devastated he was that day because he didn't perform well and his girlfriend wasn't even there at his home race.

I start to stir in place from his words trying to hide the fact that he made me blush. He notices it anyway and pulls himself closer to me.

"Why are you so nervous?" He asks calmly looking straight at me as I tried to look anywhere but his mesmerizing green eyes.

"I'm not." I say quite softly and uncertainly. He scoots even closer to me, so close that I can feel the warmth of his breath on the skin of m neck. He is facing me while I am facing the TV. My heart is beating so harsh I can feel it pounding against my rib cage.

"Y/n.."

"Hm?"

"I've been trying really hard to forget about it," He says, referring to the kiss we shared, as he moves a strand of my hair behind my ear and keeps his palm on my cheek. "I just can't seem to." Before I can even think of anything to say, our eyelids slightly start closing and our lips meet.

At that moment everything becomes less important, neither of us breaks the kiss, we decide to save the "this is wrong" and "we shouldn't, we have to stop" for later.

He kissed me so delicately, his lips softly brushed mine. He was so careful caressing my cheek with his thumb and the kiss was so tender leaving me wanting more.

"Charles.." I breathe out whispering.

"Don't overthink this, please. I'm dying to kiss you over and over again." His words were enough to erase any doubt in me whether I wanted this or not. They got me hooked eagerly wanting more of whatever this was. Once the kiss turned from gentle to passionate, then firmer and more determined, I knew I desperately needed him in every way that there is.

"I want you." I was trying to refrain from moaning since he hasn't even touched me properly yet and I was already a mess.

"You have me so easily. Come here." He pulls me into his lap so I straddle him without breaking the kiss. I worked my mouth against his while his hands were roaming my body under my oversized t-shirt. Once he reached the bra clasp he stopped for a second to take a look at my eyes asking for permission to remove it.

"Take it off." I whisper and seconds later the bra was thrown to the side. With one hand he cupped my breast and with the other he pulled me down making me grind on his stiffened crotch. He threw his head back groaning as I pressed myself against him.

"Fuck, take these off." He says tugging at the hem of my shorts. I obediently do as he orders, taking my t-shirt off along the way and in a matter of seconds I'm sitting in his lap only in my panties completely revealing myself to him. He takes a second to admire my naked body with hungry eyes and slightly parted lips eyeing me up and down.

"You're so beautiful, fuck." My heart flutters at his sweet comment even though I didn't want him to be sweet-talking to me. I wanted him to tell me how much he wanted me, what he would do to me, and how he wanted to have me.

His hand found its way to my panties rubbing me over them feeling the now already damp lace fabric. "You're soaking, is this for me? Have I made you feel this wet?" He wasn't even trying to hide the smug on his face. I gasp at his words and his touch, but he wanted to hear me. "Answer me."

"It's all for you." He pulls my panties aside and starts rubbing small and slow torturous circles on my clit.

"This isn't the first time that you're wet for me now is it?" He murmurs against my lips and I gulp panting. "I know it isn't. I know you've been thinking about me." He glides his fingers over my wet folds up and down before he slips his middle finger inside me. I wince at the the coldness of his finger, but soon start moving my hips against his hand.

"Look at you.. So hot, so eager for me. I've been getting hard thinking about you and your innocent lips wrapped around me even though they're anything but innocent." He slips another finger inside me and I almost finish right away at the profanities that he's telling against my skin. I start to unbutton his pants while he takes of his shirt. He lifts himself up on the couch and I stay down on my knees between his legs. I pull his boxers down his legs revealing the long shaft that sprung off his hitting his lower stomach. I decided to tease him a little and start working my tongue everywhere but the tip where he needed me the most. Once again he throws his head back in pleasure desperate for my touch around him and I enjoy every second of listening him moaning my name. I lick his balls and gently dig my nails into the skin of his thighs. He tries to grab himself, but I stop his hand and put it back on the side.

"Wrap your lips around me, you're driving me insane." I smirk as I see him on almost begging for me. It doesn't take long until I do ad he pleases taking his shaft and giving it a few strokes before I start bobbing my head up and down paying special attention to his aching red tip.

"You're taking it so well for me, so fucking beautiful." His words are prompting while he's moving hair out of my face and collecting it into a ponytail so he can lead my head. I continue doing what I was fastening my pace until he stops me taking my chin between his fingers.

"I don't wanna cum like this and if you continue I sure fucking will. I need to feel you around me. Do you want me to fuck you, hm?"

"Yes, Charles fuck I do." I pant as the aching feeling between my legs rises. He pulls me up by my elbows and I straddle him again as he pulls me again for another long kiss his tongue fiercely wrestling mine. He takes his shaft into his hand prepping it a bit before positioning it on my center. I don't wait for him to pull me down on him, I do it myself rolling my hips against him at first slowly so I can adjust to his length and enjoy every second of the feeling of him inside of me.

"Yes baby ride me, you're so good for me. You do it so good." Butterflies errupt in my stomach at him calling me baby. His thumb brushes over my lower lip and I hold onto his hand. His other hand slides down to rub circles on my clit again and I feel my legs starting to shake.

"Oh Charles, Charles.." I cry out his name clenching around him.

"Eyes on me." He lifts up my chin making me look him in the eyes while I come undone around him and he starts working his hips upwards wanting to prolong my climax. I try to squirm away as the excessive feeling of pleasure overwhelms me and sensitivity takes over. Charles stops me by tightly wrapping his strong arms around me hugging me and hiding his face in the crook of my neck leaving trail of small gentle kisses.

"That's it. You're doing so well for me. Can you keep going?" I nod my head yes and he's quick to turn me over and lay me down onto the couch. He pulls himself out of me and presses himself against my stomach his lips never leaving my neck. I tug on his hair with one hand and with the other slide my nails down his back.

"Kiss me." I plead and he does so. He teases me with his tip going over my now too sensitive and wet folds.

"Will you be able to cum for me one more time?"

"I don't know.." I whisper with a trembling voice. "But I don't wanna stop." That's all it takes for him to push himself deep inside me tiredlessly working his hips in and out of me.

"You're so fucking tight." He attaches his lips to my hard nipples flicking his tongue arounf them and nibbling on them making me whine out his name.

"Charles..oh yes."

"So fucking hot hearing you moan my name." He says. "Fuck, what you do to me..Touch yourself for me."

I slide my hand between us down to my clit making quick circular movements and the sight of me touching myself drives him completely crazy it has him rolling his eyes and panting.

"Fuck, baby I'm close, I'm gonna cum." He starts moving his hips faster hitting my walls making me clench myself around him and screaming out his name as I finish one more time. Seconds later he pulls out stroking himself at fast pace and cumming all over my stomach.

Barely catching his breath he gives me a peck on the lips before falling onto me and I close my eyes playing with his locks.

Leaving Charles on the couch, I get up and head towards the bathroom. I slide down my now completely soaked panties and step inside the shower. As the lukewarm water hits my skin, I let out a deep breath and close my eyes letting myself go through all the emotions that have accumulated in me in the last few hours.

Guilt washes over me because I don't feel guilty and because I know I'd do this all over again with him. I have never before experienced something so passionate, sensual, exciting and satisfying, something that left me wanting more of him. I find myself smiling thinking about him and what we just did, but even though i don't want to let myself expect anything, I forgive myself this time because i'm still under the impression of him tightly gripping my body, kissing me all over my neck and calling me 'baby'.

I hear the sound of the shower door opening and soon Charles' hands are resting on my waist and his lips are pressing against my shoulder. I smile tilting my head to the side.

"You're washing me off yourself already?"

"I was hoping you'd come." I turn to face him wrapping my arms around his neck. He leans in to kiss me only this time slowly and gently. "Can I ask you something?" I ask and he nods. "Are you drunk?" He chuckles at my somewhat funny question. It was clear to me that he couldn't get drunk from 3 cans of beer, I just wanted to check how aware he was of our actions. I wanted to get out of him how he felt about this, I wanted him to tell me something, even though at the same time I was afraid of what I would hear. I didn't want anything to ruin these moments, even though I was very curious and impatient.

"Drunk off of you only." I blush leaning my head into the crook of his neck, but he sensed what I was getting at. "Let's not think about anything and enjoy the moment, okay?" He presses a kiss to my forehead and I feel relieved although on the verge of overthinking this.

"Are you tired?" He asks quietly against the skin of my neck.

"A little bit." I gasp letting my eyes close. "Why?" Just as I asked the question, I felt him slowly pressing himself against me.

"Because I can't get enough of you." His tonuge slides over my bottom lip asking for permission and I let him in without any hesitation. "I want to hear you moan my name again." He says into my ear abruptly turning me around and pressing me against the shower wall. He pushes himself inside of me and starts thrusting in and out again further and further.

"Charles.." The slapping of our wet skin echoed throughout the bathroom.

"How are you so tight, fuck.." His pace picked up and I could feel both of us were close. "I'm close baby, I'm not gonna last long."

My back was arched and I held onto the glass with my palms. Soon my legs started shaking and his hips stuttering against me as we both finished at the same time. The moans filled the small space inside the shower as we were coming down from our highs. I was so weak, the strength in my legs long gone I would've fallen down if he hadn't held me.

"Are you okay? Talk to me." He asks gently caressing my cheek.

"I am." I smile assuring him with a kiss. "Let's take a shower and go to bed okay?"

"Okay."

After we showered and dried off with towels, we went to my room and got into bed. Neither of us said anything, he just pulled me close and held me tight around the waist as if I was going to run away any second. There wasn't even any need to say anything. Being in his arms, feeling his breathing on my skin felt so safe, so intimate that I wished this would never end.

[kiemiu]

' 𝓟𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑻𝒀 𝓟𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑺𝑺𝑶 '

pairing kang sae-byeok x fem!reader | wc: 9k+

synopsis kang sae-byeok, a quiet, brooding, girl who keeps to herself has an entire sketchbook dedicated to you. her infatuation stretches across multiple pages yet she struggles to talk to you, until her best friend, ji-yeong finds out and gives her the push she needs.

genre fluff, angst, heavy pining | warnings none really.

masterlist | enjoy <3

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 library was quiet, save for the soft rustle of pages and the faint tapping of fingers on keyboards. Sae-byeok sat at the far corner of the room, head bent over her sketchbook. The sunlight streaming through the window fell across her dark hair, but her focus remained entirely on the pencil gliding across the paper.

She was drawing you again.

It had become a habit—sketching your soft smile, the way your hair frames your face, or the sparkle in your eyes when you laughed. Her crush on you was anything but subtle to her own heart. If someone were to flip through her sketchbook, it would be embarrassingly obvious just how much she liked you.

Lost in the depth of her work, Sae-byeok failed to notice Ji-yeong slipping into the seat beside her until she let out a low whistle.

“What’s this, Sae-byeok?” Ji-yeong’s teasing voice cut through the silence, making Sae-byeok freeze.

“Nothing,” Sae-byeok muttered quickly, snapping her sketchbook shut and glaring at Ji-yeong, who was already grinning wide like a Cheshire cat.

“Oh no, no, no.” Ji-yeong leaned over, her quick hands darted to snatch the sketchbook before Sae-byeok could blink. “If it’s nothing, then why do you look so guilty?” she asked, her figure rising out of the seat to create room between the two.

“Ji-yeong, give it back,” Sae-byeok hissed, her voice low yet sharp. Her face began to turn red.

Ji-yeong flipped the sketchbook open and gasped dramatically. “Wait, wait, wait… are these… drawings of her?” Her voice rose slightly, earning a glare from the librarian, but Ji-yeong didn’t care. She looked between the detailed sketches and Sae-byeok, her grin widening. “You’re so in love it’s pathetic!”

“Shut up,” Sae-byeok growled, reaching towards Ji-Yeong to try and grab the sketchbook, but Ji-yeong held it out of reach, trying to muffle her laughter with one hand as the sketchbook, one of Sae-Byeoks’ most prized possessions, dangled carelessly from her other hand.

“I mean, look at this!” Ji-yeong waved the sketchbook around, flipping through the pages. “This one’s from that time she wore her hair down last week, isn’t it? And this one—oh my god, you even got the way her eyes crinkle when she smiles. You’re fucking obsessed, dude!”

Sae-byeok slumped back in her chair, groaning in defeat. “Ji-yeong, I swear, if you don’t shut up—”

“Or what? You’ll glare at me like you do to everyone else? Face it, Sae-byeok, you’re a lovesick puppy.” Ji-yeong chuckled, before finally setting the sketchbook back down in front of her friend. “It’s cute, though. You’re usually so cold and distant, but around her, you’re a total marshmallow.”

“I’m not,” Sae-byeok muttered as she sank further into her seat, but her flushed face betrayed her.

“Oh, you are,” Ji-yeong teased, propping her chin in her hand and smirking. “You should just tell her, you know. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Sae-byeok shot her a withering look. “You mean besides her thinking I’m a complete creep and never talking to me again?”

Ji-yeong rolled her eyes. “Please. She’s way too nice for that. And honestly, I think she’d be flattered—have you seen the way she looks at you? You could be talking about the price of milk and she’s still be all googly-eyed—I’m telling you, there’s hope for you two.”

Sae-byeok shook her head, muttering under her breath. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Ji-yeong only grinned wider, leaning closer to whisper conspiratorially. “Fine, don’t believe me. But if you keep staring at her like that, she’s eventually gonna be able to tell you like her. Might as well get ahead of it sooner than later and confess.”

Sae-byeok glared at her, but Ji-yeong just winked and leaned back in her chair. “You’re lucky I’m such a good friend,” she said. “I could’ve shown her your little sketchbook and really embarrassed you.”

Ji-Yeong’s empty threat made Sae-byeok’s eyes widen in alarm, making Ji-yeong laugh in return, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “Relax, I wouldn’t actually do that to you. But seriously, you need to make a move, Sae-byeok. You’re too talented to keep something like this hidden forever. And you're a catch, any girl would be lucky to have you fawn over them.”

With a gentle pat on Sae-Byeok's shoulder, Ji-yeong walked off, slightly chuckling to herself. Sae-byeok sighed and glanced down at her sketchbook. Her latest sketch of you stared back at her, the delicate lines capturing the softness she saw every time she looked at you.

· · ────���── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The classroom buzzed faintly with activity, but Sae-Byeok’s entire world had narrowed down to two things: protecting her sketchbook from Ji-yeong’s meddling and trying not to combust from embarrassment. Ji-yeong, ever the troublemaker, was still smirking like she had just uncovered the most scandalous secret of the century.

“You can’t keep doing this forever, you know,” Ji-yeong said, leaning closer with a knowing look. “Eventually, she's going to figure it out. And when she does, wouldn’t you rather it be because you told her and not because she caught you staring at her for the hundredth time?”

“I don’t stare,” Sae-byeok snapped, her cheeks heating up again.

Ji-yeong arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, please. You’re practically a spotlight. Every time she walks into the room, your eyes are glued to her like you’re in some cheesy kdrama.”

Sae-byeok groaned, rubbing her temples as if that would make Ji-yeong disappear. “Why are you like this?”

“Because it’s fun,” Ji-yeong replied with a shrug, grinning mischievously. “Also, because I think you’d be cute together. You’re all cold and brooding, and she’s all sweet and sunshiney.” And as if a sudden revelation came to Ji-Yeong, a wide smile stretched across her face as she snapped her fingers and pointed at Sae-Byeok. “You're like those two care bears.”

“Can you stop talking?” Sae-byeok muttered, wishing the ground would swallow her whole.

But Ji-yeong wasn’t done yet. She propped her chin in her hand, glancing across the room at you before her eyes zeroed in on Sae-Byeok, her head tilting as if she was analyzing her. “You know, if you don’t make a move soon, someone else might.”

Sae-byeok froze. The thought of someone else confessing to you, seeing you smile at someone else the way she wished you’d smile at her, made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

Ji-yeong noticed the shift in her expression and leaned closer, her voice softer now. “Hey, I’m just teasing you, but seriously… I think you should go for it. You don’t have to confess right away. Just, I don’t know, talk to her? Start small.”

Sae-byeok’s gaze flicked to you again. You were still oblivious to the chaos happening on her side of the room, your head tilted slightly as you focused on your own notebook. You looked so peaceful, so effortlessly beautiful, and Sae-byeok felt her heart ache.

“I wouldn’t even know what to say,” Sae-byeok admitted quietly, her gaze drifting from you to her lap as she picked at her nails, a subtle pout covering her face.

Ji-yeong softened at her friend’s rare vulnerability. “Just be yourself. She already likes you as a person—you’re not invisible, you know. She says hi to you every time she sees you, and she smiles at you like you’re the only one in the room. You’re honestly not as hopeless as you think.”

Before Sae-byeok could respond, Ji-yeong suddenly sat up straighter, her mischievous grin returning. “Actually, why don’t we test that theory right now?”

“What? What are you—” Sae-byeok’s words caught in her throat as Ji-yeong raised her hand, waving enthusiastically in your direction.

“Hey!” Ji-yeong called out cheerfully, cupping her hands around her mouth, before starting to wave you over.

Sae-byeok’s heart nearly stopped. She grabbed Ji-yeong’s wrist to try and pull her back down to her seat, her eyes wide with panic. “Ji-yeong, no!”

But it was too late. You had already looked up from your notebook, your eyes meeting Ji-yeong’s first before shifting to Sae-byeok’s panicked form. A warm smile spread across your face as you gave a small wave back. “Hi, Ji-yeong! Hi, Sae-byeok!”

Sae-byeok felt like she was about to pass out. Her face was burning, and her throat felt tight as she tried to find something—anything—to say as you started to make your way over, completely oblivious to the emotional turmoil Sae-Byeok had been fighting beforehand.

Ji-yeong, ever the instigator, grinned and nudged Sae-byeok with her elbow. “Don’t be rude, Sae-byeok. Say hi back.”

Sae-byeok shot Ji-yeong a murderous glare before reluctantly looking back at you. “Hi,” she managed to mumble, her voice barely audible.

You tilted your head slightly, your smile softening. “Are you two working on something together?”

Ji-yeong’s grin widened, and Sae-byeok knew she was about to say something that’d make her want to crawl into a hole and die.

“I'm glad you asked! Sae-byeok here was just showing me some of her amazing drawings,” Ji-yeong said, her tone all too enthusiastic.

Sae-byeok’s eyes widened in horror. “Ji-yeong—”

“Really?” you asked, your curiosity piqued. You leaned forward slightly, your gaze flicking to the sketchbook in Sae-byeok’s firm grasp. “That’s so cool! Can I see?”

For a moment, Sae-byeok thought her soul had left her body. She clutched the sketchbook even tighter to her chest, shaking her head quickly. “It’s nothing,” she said, her voice a little too sharp. “Just… doodles.”

Ji-yeong let out a dramatic sigh, clearly disappointed that her plan had been thwarted. “She’s being shy,” she said to you with a playful wink. “But trust me, she’s really talented.”

You smiled at Sae-byeok, your eyes warm and genuine. “I’d love to see your work sometime, if you’re okay with it.”

Sae-byeok’s heart felt like it was about to explode. She could barely manage a nod, her voice completely failing her.

You didn’t seem to mind her awkwardness. You gave her another soft smile before turning your body to walk away. “No pressure,” you said kindly. “But I really mean it.”

As you settled back into your seat, Ji-yeong turned to Sae-byeok with a smug grin. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Sae-byeok glared at her, but there was no real heat behind it. Her heart was still racing, and she couldn’t stop replaying your words in her head.

Maybe, just maybe, Ji-yeong was right. But for now, she was just grateful you didn’t think she was a complete weirdo who lacked social skills.

The classroom’s normal buzz returned as everyone focused on their individual projects, but Sae-byeok felt like the room had closed in around her. Her heart still pounded erratically, and she couldn’t seem to shake the discomfort of her sweaty palms. Ji-yeong’s teasing, however, had slowed to a simmer as she watched Sae-byeok carefully, a knowing grin still lingering on her lips.

“You’re really bad at hiding it, you know,” Ji-yeong teased, nudging Sae-byeok’s arm. “You’re practically glowing after that.”

Sae-byeok tried to pretend she wasn’t utterly wrecked from the interaction, but her red cheeks were a dead giveaway. “I’m not glowing,” she muttered, her voice tight, her gaze fixed firmly on her sketchbook as if it would somehow protect her from the world and drown out the nonsense spewing from Ji-Yeong.

“Sure,” Ji-yeong said, unconvinced, her tone dripping with mischief. “You’re just that naturally red in the face.”

Sae-Byeok didn’t respond, instead focusing intently on her scribbles, wishing she could sink into the desk and disappear while Ji-yeong leaned back in her chair, still watching her with a knowing glint in her eyes.

“You know,” Ji-yeong continued after a beat, clearly enjoying Sae-byeok’s discomfort, “I think it’s time for you to stop hiding behind your sketches.”

“I’m not hiding,” Sae-byeok mumbled, her face still burning as she turned the page in her sketchbook, hoping to drown out the conversation by immersing herself in her drawings.

Ji-yeong only snickered in response. “Right. Sure, keep telling yourself that.” She didn’t seem bothered at all by Sae-byeok’s persistent awkwardness. “I don’t know why you’re so nervous. If you just talked to her—honestly talked to her—I bet she’d be thrilled. You two would be really cute together.”

Sae-byeok shot her a quick look but didn’t respond. Instead, she tried to focus on her work, picking up a pencil to sketch out another landscape. Every so often, her eyes would flicker toward you, who was still absorbed in your work, and she would quickly look away, heart pounding helplessly in the confines of her chest.

Ji-yeong noticed the shift in her gaze, of course. She nudged her again, this time more gently. “You should ask her to hang out sometime. Like… outside of class. That could give you a chance to, you know, actually talk to her.”

Sae-byeok’s heart lurched at the suggestion, but she just shook her head, silently hoping for the conversation to end. “I don’t know, Ji-yeong,” she muttered, barely louder than a whisper. “I just—I’m not good at that kind of thing.”

Ji-yeong smirked. “What? Talking to people?” She paused, leaning back with a feigned look of shock. “You, Kang Sae-byeok? Not good at talking to people? Impossible.”

Sae-byeok sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You’re impossible,” she muttered under her breath. Sae-Byeok felt her mind slowly start to wander back to the way you had smiled at her earlier, so soft and genuine and the way you’d mentioned how much you'd love to see her drawings sometime.

She replayed the conversation in her head over and over again. Despite her awkwardness, she realized you hadn’t seemed put off by her discomfort. If anything, you’d been kind, patient even. That small interaction, just a few words, felt like something monumental to her, even if it hadn’t been much at all.

Sae-byeok bit her lip, her resolve softening, even if just a little. Maybe Ji-yeong was right. Maybe it was time to stop hiding behind her art and finally take that step, even if it felt terrifying.

As if on cue, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Sae-byeok quickly gathered her things, still deep in thought as Ji-yeong bounced up from her chair, stretching with a dramatic yawn before turning to her friend with a final departing message. “I’m telling you, Sae-byeok. Don’t wait too long. She’s waiting for you to make a move. I can tell.”

“I’ll think about it,” Sae-byeok muttered, too tired to argue.

Ji-yeong raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t press. “Well, if you do decide to confess your undying love, at least tell me first so I can get some popcorn.”

Sae-byeok shot her a half-smile, though it was more out of exhaustion than amusement. “I’ll let you know,” she promised quietly.

As Sae-byeok walked out of the classroom, she couldn’t help but glance over at you one more time. You were packing up your things, completely unaware of the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

What would it be like to just say it? To tell you how she felt? It seemed almost impossible, but with Ji-yeong’s encouragement still ringing in her ears, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—she could do it.

But not today, Sae-byeok thought. Not yet.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The next day, Sae-byeok found herself at a crossroads. She had made it through the morning without embarrassing herself too badly, but now, as lunch started to approach, she couldn’t seem to escape the thoughts that kept floating around in her mind. You were sitting across the room, casually chatting with one of your friends, and Sae-byeok was once again fighting the urge to stare.

She finally decided to take a deep breath and turn the page of her sketchbook. It wasn’t much, just a quick sketch of the view from the classroom window, but it was something. It was one of five unfinished landscape drawings she had conjured in her sketchbook dedicated to you just in case someone were to ask to see what she was drawing.

Her fingers gently traced a line that bled through onto the paper from a previous sketch. Without needing to turn the page she easily recognized it was the curve of your jaw.

She looked up once more, to already see you looking right at her.

For a beat, neither of you moved, locked in an unexpected moment of eye contact. Sae-byeok’s heart leapt into her throat, but this time, she didn’t look away, even as you made your way towards her.

You smiled, soft and reassuring, as if you had known all along what she was thinking. “Your sketches are amazing, you know that?” you called out gently, breaking the silence.

And just like that, Sae-byeok’s world tilted once again. This time, though, she didn’t feel the overwhelming panic that she was used to.

She felt hope.

Sae-byeok’s heart skipped a beat, her grip tightening on her pencil as she tried to process your words. For a moment, she was frozen, as if her mind couldn’t catch up to her body. ‘ Did she just say that? '

You were still looking at her, your smile warm and genuine, and that made Sae-byeok’s breath catch in her throat. She had expected to be swallowed by her own embarrassment for not knowing how to open up her mouth and speak or drop her pencil and rush out of the room like she always did when she suddenly felt cornered. But this time? It was different. You were being… kind. And not just kind in the way people are to acquaintances. You were really noticing her.

Her mouth went dry as she finally managed to croak out a response. “Uh… thanks,” she said, her voice a little hoarse. She quickly looked back down at her sketchbook, feeling a rush of warmth flood her cheeks. There was no possible way she’d be able to look at you for more than a second without completely melting in her seat.

But then, you spoke again. “No, seriously. I think it’s really cool that you draw. I mean, I don’t know if I could ever do it. Maybe one day I could try, though?”

Sae-byeok’s eyes shot up to meet yours again, and this time, she didn’t look away. You were still smiling at her, and there was an openness in your expression that made her heart race all over again. You were… interested? In her art?

The weight of it hit her like a wave. She hadn’t expected this—any of this. She had always kept her feelings locked inside, bundled up in secret sketches no one ever saw. And yet, here you were, reaching out to her without hesitation.

“Maybe,” Sae-byeok replied softly, her voice a little steadier now. “If you ever want to try, I could show you… how I do some of it.”

Your eyes lit up even more, if that was even possible. “I’d love that! Maybe we could even sit together one day, and you could teach me some things? I think it’d be really fun.”

The offer was simple, and it shouldn’t have made Sae-byeok’s heart beat faster, but it did. Her mind raced with possibilities. Sitting together? Teaching her? The words felt too good to be true, like something out of a dream. She tried to keep her cool, but it was getting harder by the second.

Before she could respond, Ji-yeong appeared beside her, tapping her desk with a mischievous grin plastered on her face. “Well, well, well… what’s all this about teaching, huh?”

Sae-byeok’s heart jolted as she turned to look at her friend, who was clearly enjoying the scene. “Ji-yeong, please don’t,” she said, a hint of panic in her voice.

But Ji-yeong wasn’t backing down. “What? I’m just curious. Are we talking about art lessons? Or is this some kind of secret rendezvous? Because it looks like something very interesting is happening here.” she teased, her eyes flickering back and forth between you and Sae-byeok while her eyebrows lifted up and down suggestively.

You, to Sae-byeok’s relief, seemed unfazed by Ji-yeong’s teasing. Instead, you smiled and said, “I was just telling Sae-byeok how much I’d like to try drawing. I thought it could be fun if she helped me out.”

Sae-byeok blinked, surprised by how calm and unbothered you were. How casual you were about all of it, she couldn’t help but admire that.

“Hmm,” Ji-yeong said, crossing her arms with a playful smirk. “You two are practically a match made in art class, huh?”

Sae-byeok wanted to hide under the desk at that moment, but she couldn’t help but smile at Ji-yeong’s antics. Her teasing was annoying, but somehow, it felt less intense. It felt easy and light, possibly due to you smiling at her like you meant it. Like you were really excited to sit down and draw with her, your affection made the butterflies in Sae-Byeok’s stomach thrash around harder.

“Anyway,” Ji-yeong said, her tone lightening as she leaned back against the desk, “I think it’s a great idea. You should definitely teach her, Sae-byeok. Who knows? Maybe you’ll even turn her into a drawing expert.”

Sae-byeok chuckled softly, feeling a slight sense of relief wash over her. She wasn’t sure what had changed, but there was a comfort in the idea that maybe things weren’t as complicated as she’d made them out to be. Maybe it was okay to let things unfold naturally, one step at a time. Maybe—just maybe—she didn’t have to carry the crushing weight of her feelings alone anymore.

“Okay,” Sae-byeok said, her voice a little steadier. “We can do that. I’ll show you some basics next time we get a chance together.”

Your smile widened, and for a split second, Sae-byeok swore her heart stopped beating altogether. You weren’t just being polite anymore. There was something genuine, something real in your smile that made everything feel… possible.

“I can’t wait,” you said, your voice light and happy. “Thanks, Sae-byeok.”

And in that moment, it wasn’t just the words that made Sae-byeok’s chest tighten with hope. It was the way you looked at her, the way you said her name like it meant something special. Her name being something only she wanted you to say until the end of time.

Sae-byeok felt a sudden rush of emotions, a mixture of excitement, disbelief, and something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She glanced down at her sketchbook, feeling a warm flush crawl up her neck. She had always kept her art to herself, hidden behind the privacy of her sketches, but now, someone else was showing interest. And not just anyone—you.

The quiet connection they had started to form felt so fragile, like it could slip away with just one wrong move. But in that moment, Sae-byeok couldn’t help but feel a quiet, hopeful joy stirring inside her, something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time.

Ji-yeong, ever the perceptive one, leaned in with a sly smile, watching the two of you closely. “Look at you two,” she teased, nudging Sae-byeok with her elbow. “You’re both smiling like this is the beginning of a rom-com or something.”

Sae-byeok couldn’t help but gently laugh at her friend’s antics, the tension in her chest easing as she realized Ji-yeong wasn’t teasing her with malicious intent—she was just happy to see her friend finally open up to someone that obviously meant a lot to her. Sae-byeok allowed herself a small, relieved smile.

“I’m just showing her how to draw,” Sae-byeok said quickly, her face growing warmer at the thought. She wasn’t sure what exactly it was she was feeling, but she didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

“Sure, sure,” Ji-yeong said with a wink. “But don’t forget to give her the advanced lessons. You’ve got some serious skills, girl.”

You smiled softly at their banter, the warmth of your gaze never leaving Sae-byeok. “I’m looking forward to it,” you said, the sincerity in your voice making her heart race again.

Sae-byeok found it hard to focus on anything else as you sauntered away to your next class. She was too busy replaying that moment over and over in her mind, trying to understand the new reality that seemed to be taking shape between the two of you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Over the next few days, Sae-byeok found herself thinking about the lesson she’d promised. Every time she saw you, her heart would flutter—especially when you greeted her with that same bright, open smile and expressed your enthusiasm for the upcoming day. It was as if the whole world had shrunk down to only the two of you, and for the first time in a while, she felt seen. Not just as a quiet, reserved person, but as someone with something to offer. Something valuable, something worth sharing.

Friday arrived faster than she expected, and Sae-byeok had found herself preparing with a nervous excitement she couldn’t quite shake. She’d carefully packed her sketchbook that she left untouched and a few pencils, not knowing exactly how much she should teach you or how to act around you. The idea of sitting down together, the two of you sharing space, was both exhilarating and terrifying.

When she entered the classroom, you were already there, sitting at one of the desks near the back, casually flipping through your own sketchbook. You looked up as she approached, and your smile widened, like you’d been waiting for this moment just as much as she had.

“Hey!” you greeted, the warmth in your voice making her heart skip again. “Ready for our art lesson?”

Sae-byeok blinked, feeling a rush of nerves flood her system, but she pushed it down. “Yeah. I—uh—brought some stuff to get started,” she said, her voice slightly unsteady.

You gestured to the empty seat beside you. “Awesome! Let’s get started then. I’m all yours.”

Sae-byeok sat down, her breath catching as she set her sketchbook between you. There was an electric kind of silence between you for a moment, both of you adjusting to the new dynamic. Sae-byeok could feel the weight of your presence beside her, the quiet attention you gave her as she opened her sketchbook. It felt strange—intimate, almost—but also strangely comforting.

“Okay, um,” she began, clearing her throat to shake off the nerves, “let’s start with something simple. A basic sketch of a still life. It’s a good way to practice proportion and—and shading.”

You nodded eagerly. “Sounds great.”

Sae-byeok set up a few items—a small plant, an empty coffee cup, and a pen—to use as subjects for the exercise. As she demonstrated, showing you how to sketch the outlines and focus on light and shadow, she started to feel a little more at ease being in her element. You watched her closely, following her instructions, there was a relaxed atmosphere between the two of you. No pressure, no expectations—just two people sharing a moment of teaching and learning together.

“Okay, your turn,” she said after a while, glancing at the rough lines you’d sketched on your paper. “Try drawing the cup first. Don’t worry too much about getting it perfect—just focus on the shapes.”

You nodded again, picking up your pencil and starting to draw, while Sae-byeok leaned back a little, giving you space. She watched you, her gaze softening as you concentrated, your tongue poking out slightly in concentration. There was something so endearing about the way you threw yourself into it, not caring if it was perfect, but simply enjoying the process.

“I think you’re a natural,” she said after a few minutes, and you looked up at her, surprised.

“Really?” you asked, your voice light with amusement. “I feel like I’m butchering it.”

Sae-byeok chuckled. “No way. You’re just getting started. But the way you’re shading—it’s pretty good for a beginner.”

You smiled at her praise, and Sae-byeok’s heart did another flip. She wasn’t used to being so direct with compliments, but it felt good. It felt natural with you, everything did.

“I’ll take your word for it,” you replied, grinning, before returning your focus to your sketch.

For the rest of the lesson, you worked side by side, the quiet exchange of glances and small words making the space feel warmer than it had any right to be. Sae-byeok didn’t feel awkward or self-conscious anymore. Instead, she felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be—right next to you, teaching you something she loved, but also learning about you in the process.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of class, you closed your sketchbook with a satisfied sigh, your face lighting up in a way that made Sae-byeok’s chest tighten. “I had a lot of fun today. Thanks for showing me how to do this,” you said sincerely.

Sae-byeok smiled back, her heart swelling with a mixture of pride and something deeper. “You did great. You’re a quick learner.”

You both stood up, gathering your things, and Sae-byeok was surprised when you hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “Hey, maybe we can do this again sometime? I mean, if you want to.”

Sae-byeok felt a flutter in her chest. “I’d like that,” she said before she could stop herself, her voice quiet but steady. “We could—um—work on some more advanced stuff next time. If you’re up for it.”

You smiled warmly, your eyes lighting up. “Definitely. I can’t wait.”

As Sae-byeok left the classroom, her heart was racing again, but this time, it wasn’t just nerves. It was excitement, anticipation for what could come next.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The days that followed felt like a dream to Sae-byeok. Every time she saw you, her heart would skip a beat. The little moments between the two of you—those quiet exchanges of smiles and brief conversations—made her feel lighter, as if she was walking on air. She didn’t even need to try to hide her excitement anymore. It was like you had unlocked a side of her she didn’t know existed, a side that was eager and open to new possibilities.

Soon enough, the next art lesson arrived, and Sae-byeok was exhilarated by just the thought of it. She’d spent the last few days thinking about what you could work on, wondering how she could guide you through the steps. She didn’t want to overwhelm you, but she also wanted to push you just enough to see how much you could grow. And in turn, she could grow alongside you, learning how to be more comfortable with herself and with the space between you.

When you arrived, there was that same bright smile on your face, the one that always made her heart race. “Hey, ready for round two?” you asked, a playful glint in your eyes.

Sae-byeok smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “Yeah, I’ve got a new challenge for you today.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? A challenge, huh? I’m ready for it.”

Sae-byeok’s heart fluttered as she pulled out a reference image from her bag—a simple but detailed image of a vase with flowers. “Let’s try something a little more complex today. A still life, but with more detail. You’ll have to pay attention to shadows and perspective.”

You glanced at the image, your expression thoughtful. “That looks… like a lot. But I think I can do it, show me the ropes.”

Sae-byeok couldn’t help but lightly laugh at your enthusiasm. It was contagious, and it made her feel more confident as your guide. She set the image on the desk between the both of you and began to guide you through the process step by step.

“First,” she said, “let’s break it down. Don’t worry about getting every detail right at once. Just focus on the general shape and proportion first. The lines will help you find your way.”

You nodded, pencil in hand, and began sketching out the basic shapes of the vase and flowers. Sae-byeok watched you work, feeling a quiet satisfaction knowing that she was the one helping you learn. It was a strange feeling, but it made her feel good—like she was making a difference, no matter how small.

As the lesson progressed, you asked questions here and there, and Sae-byeok was more than happy to answer. With each step, you seemed to get more confident, your lines becoming steadier, your shading more deliberate. Sae-byeok couldn’t help but admire how much you were improving in such a short amount of time.

“Looking good,” she commented after a while, her voice warm with encouragement. “You’re really getting the hang of it.”

You glanced up at her, your eyes sparkling with pride. “Thanks to you. You’re a great teacher.”

Sae-byeok felt a blush creeping up her neck at the compliment, but she quickly deflected. “It’s all you. You’re a fast learner.”

As you continued working, the silence between you felt comfortable. There was no pressure, no awkwardness. It was just the two of you, working on art and talking about anything and everything. At one point, you even asked her about her favorite artists, and for the first time in a long time, Sae-byeok found herself talking about her passion without hesitation. She had always kept it private, but with you, it felt easy to share.

“Who’s your favorite?” she asked, curious.

You thought for a moment. “I really like the impressionists. Something about the way they use light and color just…I don't know, it speaks to me.”

Sae-byeok smiled. “I get that. Monet’s work is amazing, especially the way he paints landscapes.”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! I’ve always wanted to try painting like that.”

Sae-byeok’s eyes softened, and without thinking, she said, “Maybe one day we could try painting together. If you want to.”

The offer hung in the air between you, and for a moment, Sae-byeok’s heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t believe she had said that. It wasn’t like her to be so open, but she couldn't help it, you had just made everything so easy.

Your face lit up, and you nodded immediately. “I’d really love that. I think that’d be amazing.”

The class came to an end too quickly for Sae-byeok’s liking, and when the bell rang, she felt a wave of reluctance wash over her. She didn’t want this moment to end. But as you packed your things, you turned to her with that same bright smile.

“Thanks for today, Sae-byeok. I had a great time. Let’s do this again soon, okay?”

Sae-byeok’s heart melted as she nodded. “Of course. Anytime.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As time carried on and your sessions became more frequent, your curiosity for what relied beneath the depths of Sae-Byeok’s sketchbook lingered insistently in the back of your mind.

The sun was setting, casting golden light across the room as you sat cross-legged on the floor of the art room with Sae-byeok. Her sketchbook, as always, was tucked securely into her bag, far out of reach, and in its place.

“Make sure you're holding the pencil lightly,” she said, adjusting your grip with her steady hands. Her touch was careful, deliberate. “If you keep pressing too hard, it’ll be difficult to erase mistakes.”

You nodded, trying to focus on the drawing in front of you—a simple landscape with a cherry blossom tree in the middle was what she had placed as reference. Yet your curious eyes kept wandering back to her bag, where her precious sketchbook remained hidden away. You had always admired her art, her ability to bring life to paper, but no matter how many times you asked, she always refused to show you what was in that sketchbook.

“Sae-byeok,” you said teasingly, glancing up at her. “You know, it’s really unfair that you’re teaching me how to draw, but you won’t let me see your best work.”

She stiffened slightly, her pencil pausing mid-stroke on her own paper. “It’s not ready,” she said, her tone clipped. “I told you, it’s just random doodles and practice.”

You frowned, setting your pencil down. “Practice for what? You’re already amazing. I don’t get why you’re hiding it from me.”

Sae-byeok avoided your gaze, the faintest hint of pink creeping up her neck. “It’s personal,” she muttered. “Can we just focus on your drawing?”

You sighed, letting the subject drop—for now. But the curiosity gnawed at you. What could she possibly be drawing that she didn’t want you to see?

The session continued, the two of you falling into a comfortable rhythm, but as the evening wore on, Sae-byeok’s phone wouldn't stop buzzing on the table, making her frown before standing abruptly. “I’ll be right back,” she murmured apologetically before grabbing her phone. “Keep practicing.”

You watched her leave the room, her footsteps fading down the hall. Your gaze drifted back to her bag, left carelessly open in her rush. The corner of her sketchbook peeked out, and your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t like Sae-byeok to be so careless with her belongings, the phone call completely gaining all of her attention to just leave everything behind, especially her sketchbook.

Your curiosity got the better of you. Hesitantly, almost guiltily, you reached over and pulled the sketchbook from her bag. Your hands trembling as you flipped it open, half-expecting to find technical practice sketches or random doodles like she said, but what you found was something entirely different.

The first page stopped you cold: it was a drawing of you. The details were unmistakable—your smile, the way your hair fell across your face, the sparkle in your eyes. You stared at it, stunned, before turning the pages.

Another sketch. This time, it was you and Sae-byeok, sitting together on a park bench, her arm draped casually around your shoulders. The next one showed you both in a coffee shop, leaning in close, sharing a laugh.

Your heart raced as you flipped through page after page. The drawings grew more intimate—her figure wrapped around yours in a desperate hug, the two of you sharing a quiet moment under a starry sky. And then, near the back of the sketchbook, was the one that took your breath away: the two of you standing at an altar, dressed in wedding attire, exchanging vows. The detail was immaculate, down to the way her hand cupped yours, the lace detailing on your dress, the sleekness of her plain yet elegant black suit, the soft, yet happy expressions on both of your faces.

You stared at the sketch, your emotions swirling. Sae-byeok had been imagining this—you and her, together, as more than friends. She had been hiding this entire side of herself, these feelings, in her art.

The sound of the door opening startled you, and you quickly looked up to see Sae-byeok standing in the doorway. Her eyes immediately locked onto the sketchbook in your lap, and her expression shifted from mild confusion to alarm.

“Y/N…” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the panic in her tone was clear. She crossed the room in three quick strides, snatching the sketchbook from your hands.

"Sae-byeok, I..." You paused, trying to collect your thoughts. "I don't know what to say. This is... a lot."

Sae-byeok clutched the sketchbook to her chest, her face pale. “You shouldn’t have looked,” she muttered, her voice tight with fear. “Th— it wasn’t meant for you to see.”

At the sound of silence and realization striking down on her, Sae-Byeok couldn't help but feel an unwelcome dread wash over her. The way she snatched the book from you, the way she scolded you as if you were a small child with your hand in the cookie jar when she had been drawing pictures of you, she felt her resolve start to slip.

Sae-byeok's face fell even further, her eyes filled with regret as she fought back tears. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

You shook your head, your heart softening as you saw the pain in her eyes. "No, it's not that. It's just... I didn't expect this. I didn't know you felt this way."

Her eyes flickered to yours, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerability she worked so hard to hide. “Because I didn’t want to ruin things,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or—”

“You wouldn’t have,” you interrupted gently. “Sae-byeok, these drawings… they’re beautiful. And the fact that you’ve been imagining us like this…” You trailed off, your cheeks flushing. “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable. If anything, it makes me feel… special.”

Her eyes widened slightly, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. “You’re not… mad?”

“Mad?” you repeated, shaking your head. “Of course not. I just wish you’d trusted me enough to tell me sooner.”

"I care about you, Sae-byeok. But I need to know if this is what you really want... or if you were just lost in your own thoughts." you add on, your voice soft, unwavering, and reassuring, the walls Sae-Byeok had built around her own heart slowly starting to break.

Her eyes widened at your words, as if she hadn't expected you to say that. Slowly, she stepped closer to you, her voice quiet but firm. "I want us to be something more. I—I don't want to hide anymore.”

“You mean a lot to me, Sae-byeok. And if you really feel this way then… maybe we could see where it goes. Together.”

For a long moment, she just stared at you, her guarded expression softening as your words sank in. Slowly, a small, tentative smile curved her lips. “You’d really want that?” she asked quietly, her voice wavering with uncertainty.

You smiled back, reaching out to rest a hand on her arm. “Yeah, I would.”

The tension between you melted away, replaced by something warm and new. Sae-byeok set the sketchbook down on the table, bringing her hand to rest against yours.. “Thank you,” she said softly. “For not running away.”

“I’d never run away from you,” you replied. “Not when you’ve been brave enough to share this with me.”

And as the two of you stood there, the unspoken feelings that had been hidden in her art finally brought into the open, you knew this was the start of something beautiful—something worth holding onto.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

. . UNCUT SCENE . .

Even after her slip up of leaving her sketchbook in the open for you to find her hidden confessions, the lessons still persisted on as usual. Friday soon became Sae-byeok’s favorite part of the week. With each art lesson, and each shared laugh, she felt the invisible wall she’d built around herself begin to crumble even more. You had a way of making her feel seen—really seen—and it terrified her as much as it thrilled her. She’d never been good at expressing herself, especially when it came to feelings. But lately, every time you smiled at her, every time you looked at her with those kind, genuine eyes, even after everything that had gone down between you two, she felt at peace, now with the thought that her feelings had been reciprocated.

It was after one of your usual lessons, the two of you lingering in the now-empty classroom, both of your sketchbooks spread out on the table. You were showing her a rough attempt at shading, and though you called it clumsy, Sae-byeok thought it was impressive for someone who’d just started. She tried to focus on giving you tips, but her mind kept wandering. The idea had been swirling in her head for days, and the longer she sat there beside you, the harder it became to ignore.

“Sae-byeok?” you said, pulling her from her thoughts. “Are you okay? You’ve been a little quiet.”

Her heart thudded in her chest at the concern in your voice. She quickly looked down at her hands, twisting her pencil nervously. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she mumbled, though her voice betrayed her nerves. “Just… thinking.”

You tilted your head, curiosity dancing in your eyes. “About what?”

Sae-byeok hesitated, her grip tightening on the pencil. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and she felt a wave of doubt wash over her. What if she ruined everything? What if you didn’t feel the same? But then she looked at you—at your warm, patient expression—and something inside her told her to take the chance.

“Um…” She cleared her throat, still unable to meet your gaze. “I was just… wondering if… maybe you’d want to—” Her words caught in her throat, and she took a shaky breath, forcing herself to continue. “If you’d want to… hang out. Outside of class.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper by the end, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment even with the knowledge of you reciprocating her feelings. She quickly glanced at you, and the slightly surprised look on your face made her want to crawl under the table. “I mean, you don’t have to!” she added quickly, her words tumbling out in a rush. “It’s just a thought. If you’re busy or not interested, that’s totally fine as well I—”

“I’d love to,” you interrupted, your voice soft but certain.

Sae-byeok froze, her eyes widening as she processed your words. “You… would?”

You smiled and nodded eagerly, the warmth in the motion made her chest tighten. “Of course. I think it’d be fun. Did you have something in mind?”

Her mind raced. She hadn’t thought that far ahead—she’d been so focused on just working up the courage to ask you that she hadn’t considered what would happen if you actually said yes. “Uh, maybe… coffee?” she offered, her voice shaky. “Or… or a movie? I mean, if you like movies…”

You laughed gently, and the sound was so light and genuine that it eased some of her nerves. “Coffee sounds perfect,” you said. “How about this weekend?”

Sae-byeok blinked, her heart skipping at the thought of spending time with you—just the two of you. She nodded quickly, afraid she’d lose her nerve if she didn’t. “Yeah. This weekend. That works.”

“Great,” you said, your smile softening as you met her gaze. “It’s a date.”

Her breath hitched at the word, and she felt her face grow even warmer. She didn’t dare correct you, though. Maybe—just maybe—it could be a date.

As you packed up your things and said goodbye, Sae-byeok watched you leave, her heart racing in her chest. She couldn’t believe she’d done it—she’d actually asked you out. And you’d said yes.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The weekend arrived far faster than Sae-byeok was prepared for. She stood in front of the small mirror in her room, staring at her reflection and trying to decide, for the hundredth time, if she looked okay. Her dark hair was tucked neatly behind her ears, and she wore a simple sweater and jeans—nothing too fancy, but nice enough to show she’d put in some effort.

Her stomach churned with nervous energy as she smoothed her sweater for what felt like the millionth time. Was it too plain? Should she have worn something else? But everything else she’d tried on had felt wrong, and this was the only outfit that didn’t make her want to hide under her bed.

She let out a shaky breath, placing her hands on the dresser to steady herself. “Okay, Sae-byeok,” she muttered, her voice low and hesitant. “It’s just coffee. You can do this. It’s not a big deal. People go on coffee dates all the time.”

She bit her lip, her reflection staring back at her with wide, uncertain eyes. “But what if it is a big deal?” she whispered, the fear creeping in. “What if you mess it up? What if you say something stupid, and she never wants to talk to you again?”

Her hands tightened into fists against the dresser as the doubts swirled in her mind. She’d never done anything like this before—never let herself be vulnerable like this. And now, she was about to sit across from you and try to act like she wasn’t completely out of her depth.

She straightened up, gripping the edge of the mirror as if grounding herself. “No,” she said firmly, her voice a little stronger. “You’re overthinking it. She said yes because she wanted to spend time with you. That means something, right?”

Her reflection didn’t answer, but she took a shaky breath, trying to believe her own words. “Just be yourself,” she continued, her tone softening. “She already likes you enough to say yes. You don’t have to be perfect. Just… don’t run away.”

The faintest smile tugged at her lips as she imagined your smile, your warm eyes looking at her like she was someone worth noticing. That thought alone was enough to make her heart race, but it also gave her a flicker of courage.

“You can do this,” she whispered, her voice almost a plea. “You’re strong. You’ve been through worse than this. And maybe… maybe this is your chance to finally have something good.”

With that, she gave herself one last look in the mirror, straightened her sweater again, and grabbed her bag. As she headed out the door, her nerves still buzzed under her skin, but there was a spark of hope that kept her moving forward.

And as she made her way to the café, she repeated one thought in her mind over and over: You can do this. You’re enough.

Sae-Byeok reached the café ten minutes early, her heart hammering in her chest as she approached the glass door. She hesitated for a moment, catching sight of her reflection in the glass. She adjusted her sweater again, tucking her hair behind her ears for what felt like the hundredth time. Her palms were damp, and she wiped them on her jeans before finally stepping inside.

The cozy atmosphere was filled with the comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee and quiet chatter. Sae-byeok scanned the room quickly, hoping you hadn’t arrived yet. To her relief, the table near the window you’d suggested was still empty. She let out a small, shaky breath and made her way over to claim it.

She sat down, her hands clasped tightly on the table as she waited. The nerves bubbling inside her made it impossible to sit still; she tapped her foot softly against the floor, glancing toward the entrance every few seconds.

When you finally walked in, Sae-byeok felt like the air had been knocked out of her chest. You looked casual but effortlessly pretty, your warm smile lighting up the room as you spotted her. For a split second, she froze, unsure of what to do. But then you waved at her, and despite the frantic beat of her heart, she managed to lift a hand in return.

“Hi,” you said as you reached the table, your voice as cheerful and kind as ever. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”

Sae-byeok shook her head quickly, standing up to meet you. “No, not at all,” she said, her voice a little quieter than she intended. “I—I just got here.”

You smiled, setting your bag down as you took the seat across from her. “Perfect timing, then.”

The way you looked at her, your gaze so focused and genuine, made her cheeks warm. She fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve under the table, trying to steady her breathing. This was real. You were here, sitting across from her, and it wasn’t just some far-off dream.

“So,” you began, leaning forward slightly. “What’s your go-to coffee order? Or are you more of a tea person?”

Sae-byeok blinked, caught off guard by the question. She wasn’t used to people asking her such simple, thoughtful things. “Uh… coffee,” she said, her voice soft. “Just black, usually.”

“Straight to the point,” you said with a grin. “I like that. Do you want me to grab it for you?”

“Oh—no, it’s okay,” she said quickly, starting to rise from her seat. “I can get it myself.”

But you waved her off with a laugh. “It’s fine, really. Sit tight—I’ll be right back.”

Before she could protest, you were already heading to the counter. Sae-byeok sat back down, her hands gripping her knees under the table as she tried to process what was happening. You were so at ease, so kind, and she couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by it.

Relax, she told herself, taking a deep breath. She likes you. She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t.

When you returned with two steaming cups of coffee, setting one in front of her with a soft smile, Sae-byeok felt a flicker of warmth spread through her chest. “Thanks,” she murmured, her fingers wrapping around the cup.

“No problem,” you said, taking a sip of your own drink. “So, tell me—how did you get into drawing? I’ve been curious since we talked about it.”

The question made her pause, a mix of shyness and pride bubbling up inside her. “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice still quiet. “I guess I’ve always liked it. It’s… easier for me to say things on paper than out loud, I guess.”

You tilted your head slightly, your expression thoughtful. “That makes sense. I think it’s cool how art can show people who you are, even when words feel hard.”

Her gaze flicked up to meet yours, surprised by how effortlessly you seemed to understand her. She felt a faint smile tug at her lips as she replied, “Yeah… something like that.”

The conversation flowed more easily after that, your questions pulling her out of her shell little by little. For the first time in what felt like forever, Sae-byeok felt seen and heard—not just as the quiet, brooding girl in the back of the class, but as someone worth getting to know.

And as the minutes turned into hours, the nerves that had weighed her down began to fade, replaced by a soft, tentative hope. Here the two of you were, indulging in just the beginning of her fantasies, and for once she hadn't envied the girl on the paper of her sketchbook that resembled her, as she was now making her dream into a reality.

' 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ' 📷 : @miabcuzz @twicesuuui @kissyslut @kritkalhit @st4rcs @dumbbellxo @theforestchoseme3 @wlvlurvsfimmia @genshinenjoyer @theweirdanimation @ch-3-rry @nenukkjhj @giaqnn @crack240 @pookalicious-hq @laurenkenss @sheinhamood @pooksterrr @bbynai @diorzs @beaaluv @colorfulkittenperfection @yourl0caltrash @kidicaruslover911 @sherryuki-callmeyuki @i0nic02 @knfthxv @mina-has-been-here @monroesturnns @everly-summers-solace

[miniy00ng1]

Not Yours

Five Hargreeves x Female!Reader

wc: 1845

warnings: swearing, fighting, lmk if i missed anything!

find my masterlist here

hiii lovelies! i really enjoyed writing this, i will probably make a part two since the ending isn't really an ending, but i just wanted to get something posted! in this piece i refer to Viktor's character as Vanya since in the series at this time he did not come out yet! as always please ignore any grammar errors, give me feedback, and i hope everyone enjoys! thank you <3

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A bright blue flash appears in the foyer of The Umbrella Academy, from the flash comes the Hargreeves siblings, slowly coming to after being disoriented from time travel. The siblings surround the singular round table in the room, sitting atop the table was a newspaper.

Five Hargreeves, the youngest looking of the group, snatches the paper off the table frantically searching for a date. “Holy shit…I think we did it. It’s April 2nd, 2019, the day after the apocalypse.” Five lets out a dry chuckle, surprised he and his idiot siblings succeeded. 

Klaus lets out a cheer of excitement, he rests both arms over the shoulders of his two nearest siblings, pulling them close, “Go team! I mean look at us, we’re so amazing you guys. I think we should celebrate by breaking into Dad’s very special liquor cabinet.” The siblings laugh, all relieved they survived and saved the world, yet again. As the group begins to wander towards the sitting room, Five stops in his tracks–something, no, someone was missing.

Five looks at the bunch ahead of him, he counts their heads once—only five, and then recounts afraid that he’s made an error. He whips his head behind to check for the missing person–his missing person. Five releases a shaky breath he didn’t realize he was holding, panic beginning to set in, “You guys…where’s Y/N?” The siblings immediately become aware to the fact that you were missing.

“Maybe she ended up in another part of the house? We should split up and look for her.” Vanya suggested. The group murmurs in agreement, designating sections of the house for each sibling to search. Before the siblings can break off, something strange catches Diego’s eye, “Hey, why is there a painting of Ben over the mantelpiece?”

The siblings immediately gather around the mantel and stare in confusion at the painting of their dead brother, which was previously a painting of their missing brother. “Shit, that can’t be good…” Five hisses, trying to figure out what was going on. The siblings attention is pulled away from Ben’s painting as a figure abruptly stands up from a nearby chair. The fireplace sheds light on the figures, it was their previously dead father—Reginald Hargreeves.

“Dad, you’re alive.” Luther says softly. The older man scoffs and speaks in his shrill voice, “Why shouldn’t I be? And I am not your father, boy.” The monocled man corrects Luther causing him to furrow his brows in confusion. “What? What’re you talking about? Yes, you are. This is the Umbrella Academy.” Allison questions. “And you would be wrong again. This is not The Umbrella Academy, this is the Sparrow Academy.” As if on cue, six figures appeared near the railing of the balcony in the room.

“Those are my children, The Sparrows. After meeting you lot in the 60s, I was so put off by you that I made it a point not to adopt you, and instead found the others. I was quite successful and adopted eight of them.” Reginald states proudly, his hands behind his back. Another familiar voice grabs the attention of the Umbrella’s, “Dad, who the hell are these assholes in my house?” Ben Hargreeves, formerly dead, but now clearly alive stands before the group. Five squints his eyes at Ben, trying to determine what was off about him. Was it the hair?

“Oh my god! Ben-er-ino is that you? You look so good alive! Well, I mean beside that haircut, but I can look past that. Come give your favorite brother a hug!” Klaus squeals in excitement, approaching Sparrow Ben with his arms wide open. Sparrow Ben meets Klaus with a solid punch to the face. Klaus stumbles back and Luther manages to catch him. “What the hell was that for Ben?” Klaus groans, holding onto his nose.

Five examines the Sparrow siblings, trying to size them up, “You said you got eight. Where is the last one?” Five questions out loud. Suddenly, a small teenage, female figure appears seemingly out of thin air next to Ben. The Umbrella siblings slightly jump at the appearance of another person in front of them before they calm down and realize it’s you. But why are you standing next to Sparrow Ben and why are you wearing a school girl outfit with a sparrow logo on it.

“Y/N?” Five calls out, you tilt your head in response to hearing your name. You squint at Five with confusion, “How the hell does the kid know my name?” You look to Reginald for answers to which he doesn’t provide any. The rest of your siblings join you and Ben in front of the strangers in your home. “I think it’s about time you guys leave.” Marcus states, puffing out his chest. “We’re not going anywhere, this is our house.” Diego replies stalking closer to Marcus. “All right, it looks like we’re going to have to settle this the old fashion way.” Both groups of siblings get into fighting stances, readying themselves to beat the shit out of each other. 

You roll your eyes, your siblings have always had a flare for the dramatics and it’s just never been your style. You use your powers–manipulation of your appearance, to make yourself invisible once again. You study the way the young boy immediately looks for your presence, trying to get even the smallest hint of where you’ve gone. As your siblings start to fight with the strangers in your house you sit back to enjoy the show.

Each one of your siblings is matched up and fighting one of the Umbrella Academy siblings and with the way things are going down, you’re betting on the Sparrows. Marcus is clearly winning against Luther and you’re becoming bored watching them hit each other back and forth. You then come across Diego riding around on Christopher asking him repeatedly about “who his daddy is” this makes you giggle. You then make your way into the foyer where you observe two more pairs of siblings fighting.

Something on the table catches your eye. A sleek, black briefcase rests in the middle, you don’t recognize it, but recall that the Umbrella’s first appeared in this room. You snatch the briefcase and decide to keep it, just in case. “Y/N! Come here and look at this freak!” You hear Jayme call your name from the top of the staircase and follow her voice. Once you reach the top of the stairs you make yourself visible and see the teenage boy, who they call Five, making out with the air. “Guess who the little perv is macking on.” Jayme says wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at you.

“Gross Jayme, why do you have to say it like that?” You say scrunching your nose in disgust. “Let me deal with him.” You signal Jayme to go away. The boy is still stuck in his daydream and continues to make out with the air. In order to get him out of the dream state you hit him in the side with the briefcase, knocking him off balance. Five rolls to the floor, shaking his head trying to re-enter reality. Immediately realizing his compromised position he quickly gets to his feet raising his fists but once he realizes it’s you, he drops his arms.

“I’m not going to hit you Y/N. I would never fight with you.” As Five lets his guard down, you use this to your advantage, immediately swinging your body in an attempt to roundhouse kick him in the face. He blinks away, dodging the kick, and appears on the other side of you causing you to stumble back since you missed your target. You prepare to hit him again but he blinks away for the second time, this time right behind you and pressed to your backside. Five’s arms wrap around your body, holding you in place, the briefcase still tightly clutched in your hand.

“Love, stop this. I am not going to fight with you.” Five says through gritted teeth as he holds you arms down to your side. You struggle against his grip trying to wiggle free, “I am not your love.” In that moment you swing your head back hoping to knock into his head but a flash of blue light surrounds you. You’re back in the foyer with Five and a couple of his siblings. “Someone hold onto her and make sure you don’t lose that briefcase. I’ve got to make sure Vanya’s okay and then we’ve got to get the hell out of here.” Five calls out to his siblings, Luther takes over the hold on you as Five blinks away and snatches the briefcase out of your hand. “I will kill you if you don’t let me go you fat gorilla.”

The Hargreeves siblings manage to “win” the fight against your siblings thanks to Vanya’s powers and take you as hostage without the Sparrows noticing. Luther carries you over his shoulder while the group tries to find a place to rest. Once arriving at a nearby park, the siblings sprawl out and complain about their aches and pains. Luther sets you down on a park bench laying his legs over yours to hold you down. “Get off of me you overgrown monkey! Let me go home or I’ll make you regret it!” You say trying to come off as threatening but Luther doesn’t take you seriously. “You know Y/N, you used to be a lot nicer. Now you sound like Five, and he’s an asshole. Here’s a fun idea! Why don’t you go back to being the nice Y/N we all know and love.” Luther sighs, covering his eyes with his arms and ignoring anything else you say or do.

Five sits up straight from the table he’s sitting at, “Luther quick, hand me the briefcase. Maybe I can time travel us back to the correct timeline.” Luther groans at the thought of having to move, he brings his hand to the floor in search of the briefcase to which he finds nothing. Luther lets out an awkward chuckle, “Yeah…about that…I might have dropped it when that blind one was chasing us with her scary birds.” Luther winces in preparation of Five’s wrath. The look on Five’s face turns murderous, “I ask two simple things Luther, that’s it. So simple even a monkey could do it…or maybe not. Keep my wife safe and don’t lose the briefcase. Is it that damn hard!” 

You let out a laugh and tune back into the conversation at the mention of yourself, “Not your wife short stuff!” Five’s attention is now back on you, his nostrils flaring in frustration, “Yes Y/N, you have made that painstakingly clear. And you’re certainly not as sweet and loving as my Y/N and you’re annoying as hell. But until I can get my Y/N back, you’ll have to do. Not to mention, you’ll come in handy once the Sparrows realize you’re gone.” Five lets out a breath as an attempt to calm down, “We need a game plan and a place to stay seeing as we don’t have one anymore. Anybody have any ideas?” 

part two, part three

[alessiathepirate]

Squid Game

RUSSIAN ROULETTE: Seong Gi-hun x fem!reader

Summary: A game of Russian roulette can reveal many secrets...

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistakes I may have made while I wrote this short story.

Warnings: death and violence, guns, swearing, referenced and/or mentioned trauma, mentioned suicide, Gi-hun and reader being oblivious, the Salesman ships it (in his own way) [the Frontman ships it - in fact, everyone does]

●●●

If a God really, truly exists, she thought, then this is the moment when I should be grateful.

She was grateful. Truly grateful.

She was the one who had gotten into that seemingly unescapeable situation and not Gi-hun.

She was in danger and not Gi-hun.

She had a slim, one in six chance of dying and not Gi-hun.

She'd die if she lost and not Gi-hun.

She liked that thought - the last one. It almost made her smile, almost, since she knew it'd be best if she didn't show any emotion. If she did, she'd give the Salesman a new card he could play and he already had the advantage regarding information.

Russian roulette... What a strange way to die. It's a death by luck, yet it's suicide too - since she'll be the one who'll pull the trigger.

Then, her mind darkened. What would Gi-hun say? How would he feel if he'd find her body? Her dead, bloody corpse. He lost so much already. He wouldn't survive another death.

But still... she'd rather die herself, than see him die.

She picked up the gun as the music played in the background, as that crazy motherfucker sat at the other side of the table in his fancy suit, with his chilly smile.

Her hand wasn't shaking as she put the barrel against her head -- she was ready to die - for Gi-hun; yet she was ready to win too - for Gi-hun.

She pulled the trigger, then blinked. She successfully made the chance one in five.

The Salesman took the revolver, showed her his bare teeth as he put the gun against his head and took the shot. Yet nothing happened.

One in four...

Crazy fucker.

She took the gun again and got ready to pull the trigger - but before she could see if she'll live or die, the Salesman leaned forward and began to talk.

She looked him in the eyes even if his whole being scared her to death, especially the fact that he could go from zero to a hundred in no time. He was usually so calm, so elegant - now he was just the word insanity itself with blood on his face.

"I've always wondered how you made it out of there alive." he said as he examined her, hunting for any sign of weakness. "For one thing, you were even terrible at ddakji. Don't get me wrong, you weren't as bad as Seong Gi-hun, but still... A player like you? Surviving?" he tilted his head to the side and sighed. "The two terrible ddakji players survived and I have to say - you fueled my curiousity." he leaned in even closer, his nose almost touching hers. "So I asked around... and let me tell you what I was told: only one of you was suppossed to live and take the money."

She felt a chill run down her spine as the thought of Gi-hun dying ran through her head. Her hands shook - and he didn't fail to notice it.

"But apparently your relationship with Seong Gi-hun; both of you trying to play the hero to save the other, was much more entertaining to our special guests." the Salesman just smiled, yet this time around there was something wicked and wrong with the way his lips curled upwards. "And then I realized that they were right."

Her hold on the revolver tightened from anger as she imagined some rich fuckers enjoying the 'show' in which they were fighting for their damn lifes.

She remembered what the boss said before he dropped Gi-hun and her off with their new credit card -- but they weren't damn horses!

"You and him, together - that really is more entertaining." he continued, his voice taunting and playful.

She pulled the trigger - in anger. She bit her lower lip to stop herself from saying something stupid.

She lived.

One in three...

The Salesman tilted his head once again as he reached for the gun. It seemed like he found something truly interesting.

"Tell me... did you tell him?"

Tell him what? She shouted on the inside, but she stayed quiet.

The Salesman put the barrel in his mouth, never breaking eye-contact, as he continued: "Did you tell him how you feel?"

Click...

One in two...

She felt her mouth run dry as she looked at him - and this time she was sure she had panic in her eyes.

How she felt?

How did she really feel?

She would die for him - that's how. And one in two, the slim chance of survival, that fifty-fifty; was seemingly leading her there: dying for him.

The Salesman opened his palm, the revolver was laying in his hand. It was like an offering.

"You didn't." it wasn't a question, but a statement. "What a horrible way to die, isn't it? Dying without confessing." his smile was wide and taunting. "Dying for the man you love and he will never even know about it."

She felt her lips tremble.

Won't he? Is he that clueless?

But there's still a chance, a fifty-fifty, that she'd live to...

She took the gun and looked at it. Two shots. She could cheat and kill him. At least he'd finally shut up...

"What's the matter?" he asked, his voice unusually happy and entertained. "Is your mind starting to race? Now your odds of death are one in two. That's pretty high indeed." when she didn't say anything he continued: "I'm sure you're afraid." Was she? "Lots going through your mind. Let me guess what you are thinking right now. 'Screw the rules. The gun's in my hand. Pull the trigger once, or twice and I can blow this guy's face off.' Isn't that right? If you want to meet the person you mentioned earlier, the key is in my pocket. You can simply shoot me with that gun and take it. If you want to meet Seong Gi-hun again without taking that fifty-fifty chance, you can shoot me and call him - tell him to come 'home'. But before you decide what to do I'll have you admit a few things."

She hated his voice, his smile - his damn manipulation techniques... She just wanted to leave or die peacefully - die without confessing...

Did she really want to take that chance?

Before she could answer her own question, the Salesman interrupted her train of thought: "That you're a piece of trash, just like everyone else. Just like Seong Gi-hun. A piece of trash who got lucky and made it out of the dumpster. A piece of trash who isn't even brave enough to make the first move. A piece of trash who's weak, scared - who didn't deserve to win at all. Not when you don't even have the strength to look at the prize you had won."

Click...

She pulled the trigger without even realizing - without a second thought regarding fear of death itself.

Her breathing became fast and uneven as she finally smiled, grinning at the man with evil taunt.

The Salesman's smile disappeared and disbelief took its place.

How... disappointing. Losing your own game.

She gave him the revolver with an open palm.

"What's the matter?" she asked, her voice both happy and angry. "Is your mind starting to race? What a terrible way to die - losing in your own game..." She'd see him again... "That's right. Screw the rules. Now, with a single pull of the trigger, you could kill me. But... I'll have you admit a few things. Things Gi-hun thinks about you - truths he knows about you... You put a mask over your face and do whatever your master says. You run, bark and wag your tail for them." she leaned in closer, her voice taunting. "You are nothing more than their dog. A fucking puppy on a very tight leash."

To her surprised, the Salesman just smiled and took the revolver. Then, he looked her in the eyes. For a moment, his expression became calm as usual - for a second, the first impression she had of him was back.

"Well played, Y/N." he leaned in as if he wanted to tell her a secret. "Now -- tell him..."

The Salesman put the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

Boom!

Blood tainted her face as his body fell back and the revolver fell from his hand.

Now -- tell him... Should she?

●●●

It didn't take long for that cop to find her with the Salesman's corpse sitting right in front of her.

Jun-ho. The cop who was looking for his brother, and who came to her and Gi-hun for help. And they refused to help the guy, since they were neck deep in debts and danger.

He thought she killed him. And in a way she did. She gave the gun to the Salesman. She wanted him to lose and die.

Yet she didn't feel bad about it all.

Jun-ho was about to cuff her when Woo-seok arrived and saved her from being arrested.

Soon, the cop was in the bathtub, cuffed and unconscious - and Woo-seok was looking at the Salesman with fear and disgust.

She let him grieve. Kim was dead - he died right in front of him, and she knew it wasn't something you can just forget and forgive.

Where's Gi-hun? She wanted to ask, but still waited patiently for Woo-seok to calm down and get dressed.

"What happened here?" she felt his voice before she heard it.

The feelings Gi-hun's voice alone made her feel with her whole body, were the best things in the world. Whenever he was talking she felt safe, calm and loved. More like: wanted.

Gi-hun's hair and clothes were wet from the rain, his voice was full of worry as he looked at the corpse of the man he had been looking for for years.

"Are you all right?" the question was meant for her.

She could hear the Salesman's voice in her head - taunting her, making her jump and tell him right away: next to a corpse, a traumatized guy and a cuffed, unconscious cop...

"I am." she said, and she could feel her heart beating faster than usual as he ran to her and hugged her tightly. "Are you?"

Gi-hun just nodded and then looked at the dead body.

"What happened?"

For a moment she thought about what she should say.

"Russian roulette." she explained - and Woo-seok shook in disgust. "He lost and now I have the 'key'."

Instead of getting greedy, asking for the damn card, Gi-hun just hugged her again, even tighter.

"I'm so glad you're all right. When you didn't pick up I knew something was wrong."

She could feel her heart flutter.

"Gi-hun..." Now or never - the adrenaline was still present, making her brave enough to choose now. "Can we... talk? Please?"

"Of course, is everything all right?"

"Yes, I just..."

Woo-seok just raised his hands and took a deep breath. "I think I... need some air. I'll be outside and then I'll-- help, with the clean-up."

"Will you be all right?" she asked, making sure he won't collapse on the way out.

Woo-seok just nodded and left the room quickly - as if he was afraid the corpse would come back to life and threaten him again.

She looked at the Salesman once again - in a strange way his taunting was the thing that gave her strength.

"While we were playing he said a few things... Truths, mostly." she began, avoiding Gi-hun's eyes. "When I took the gun I thought... how grateful I am that I'd die and not you. And I- I wasn't afraid of dying, Gi-hun, I was afraid I'd die without telling you that--" she stopped right before the confession and closed her eyes.

She was afraid to look at him.

She stared death in the face not even ten minutes ago, yet she was scared to see Gi-hun's reaction.

"Y/N... Look at me, please." Gi-hun held onto her shoulders gently as he made her turn around, and she slowly opened her eyes.

She saw no hatered or disgust. Gi-hun's eyes were full of adoration and love, and she was sure her whole face turned red.

"I know. And I feel the same way, I was just afraid that I'd--"

"--ruin everything?" she finished. "Yeah, me too."

Gi-hun let out a small, quiet chuckle. She smiled, since she barely heard him laugh these days.

"I guess we were a little oblivious and dumb, weren't we?" he asked.

"We were." she agreed. "And I guess that - after everything; I didn't want to ruin what we have and I didn't want to lose the last person on Earth I care about."

Gi-hun leaned toward her and kissed her cheek. She just grinned and grabbed onto his shoulders.

"I love you, Y/N."

The muscles in her cheeks twitched slightly, her grin disappeared. Her lips trembled and she could feel the tears' need to arrive and fall down her cheeks.

"And I'm sorry we don't have a more romantic setting." he continued and she chuckled, then brushed the tears away.

"Our life isn't normal at all. In fact this is the most normal we had so far - so I don't mind." she said and returned the favor - she too gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I love you too, Gi-hun."

"Please don't play any more Russian roulette, okay?" he asked with a faint, sad smile.

"Okay." she agreed. "No more games."

Gi-hun gave her one last peck, before he took a step back and looked at the bloody mess the Salesman caused.

"We have to clean this up."

"Yes." she nodded. "We have to."

"What else did he tell you? Did he say anything important?"

She remembered what the Salesman told her - about them winning, about Them enjoying her relationship with Gi-hun, about them being nothing more than pieces of trash...

She thought about telling him - telling Gi-hun everything, every single detail about the talk she had with the Salesman...

...but she couldn't do it.

She couldn't ruin his last, remaining hope for humanity itself. He still had trust and love and hope... She couldn't ruin it further.

So she just shut her mouth, hugged Gi-hun one more time and began to clean up the blood.

"No. He didn't say anything else."

[gguk-n]

Chapter 5- Racing for Love

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N spends her time in Netherland with Max while his girlfriend no where to be seen. They spend Christmas and New Year together. Y/N can't get over Max; maybe it's for the best. Max realised he loves her.

{Reader's POV}

I headed back to the hotel after the race to get dressed and meet up with Max. Every one was going to be celebrating Max's win at the club. All the drivers were also joining, making it the perfect opportunity for us to meet. I was so excited. I wore a navy blue body con midi dress, it made me look and feel hot. I had told Max I'd meet him there, yet he insisted on picking me up. I was almost done getting ready when Max knocked on my door. I opened it to a much cleaner Max. I grabbed my purse and headed out with Max. "Is your girlfriend in the car?" I asked walking along with him. "No" he answered and then we walked in silence to the car. On the way there I asked again, "Is she meeting us there?" "No" he replied shortly. "Why?" I asked again. "She went back home" Max said in a tone that meant he didn't wanna talk about it anymore.

At the party, I had a lot of fun. I got to meet everyone who were very kind, welcoming and funny. They were all shocked that Max had a friend for so long that no one knew about, Charles and Lando included. We laughed, we drank, Max was pretty sober, not having touched a drink since we got there. "Why aren't you drinking?" I slurred having gulped down my previous shot of vodka, I'd lost the count of how much I had to drink since I got handed a glass as soon as one finished. "I drove here, we need to drive back to the hotel" he replied. "OHHHHH, LET'S DANCE" I shouted over the loud music. "You should go, I'm good here." Max replied while preventing Lando from toppling over. I sauntered my way to the dance floor, a guy had made my acquaintance as soon as I started dancing and we were having a lot of fun until, Max came dragging me back to where we were sat. "Max, I'm having fun. Lemme go" I whined trying to pull my hand away from his but drunk me wasn't very strong. "Drink some water and then we're leaving." he stated. "What? But we just got here. Look at all those bottle" I pointed at the bottles behind the bartender, "I need to sample those" I cried. "You can sample the alcohol later. We don't want you to get alcohol poisoning." he said shaking his head. "I have a good tolerance. SEE" I said while finally breaking free from him to try to walk in a straight line only to fail miserably and almost fall. I was only saved by Max's crazy fast reflexes, who caught me at the right moment and carried me over his shoulder back to his car, all the while I was screaming. "PUT ME DOWN....MAXIE.....YOU'RE MAKING ME DIZZY....PLEASE....I THINK I'M GONNA puke" I puked as soon as he put me down next to his car; thankfully having the brain to stop myself from puking all over his expensive car. I brushed the back of my right hand against my lips after puking, "Thank god I didn't puke on your car. haha. I don't think I can afford to clean it" I laughed. He handed me a bottle of water and got me in the car after that. The hang over wasn't as bad as I had expected it to be; maybe because Max got me medicines to help.

I spent the next few days in Zandvoort going to some of the very few places Max was allowed to go and have fun as a kid. We even went go karting. It was a shitty feeling racing against a World Champion since that idiot can't just enjoy the race. He had to make everything a competition. How did he expect me to win when this was the first time I was karting while he did this as a living for many years. We had bet on the fact that the loser had to do whatever the winner wanted; in all my confidence I had said yes, I had forgotten that my opponent was Max Verstappen. Yet, when he won after one pout, Max forgot he's the winner and let me get what I wanted since it was technically cheating since this wasn't his first time and it was mine. So, that's how we ended up watching Barbie at the end of the day. As I wiped away tears, I saw that Max was also wiping away tears. I'm never gonna let him hear the end of this.

The next few days were a blur, I tried to make the best of the situation since I wasn't sure when I would get to meet Max again. I packed up my stuff, a question still lingered on my mind; where the fuck was his girlfriend?. So, I decided to have this conversation in the car where he wouldn't be able to escape me like he did the last few days. Max carried my stuff to his car and loaded it in the car. I sat down on the passenger seat waiting for Max to come. We drove off towards the airport when I said, "Maxie, I haven't seen your girlfriend since the race. I was really looking forward to getting to know her" "Oh, umm" he sighed, "Actually, we broke up" he said while looking straight ahead. "What? Why? Is it because you hugged me first at the race. Fuck, should I apologise?" I rambled. "Schat, nonsense. We hadn't been getting along for a while. I'd been thinking about breaking up with her for a while, it just happened when you were there. It's not your fault" he clarified. My shoulders sank while I waited to get to the airport. I bid Max a good bye and he promised to come visit or have me visit during the off season. I promised to meet him soon. With a heavy heart, Max disappeared in the crowd as I walked into the airport.

We went back to our previous routine of talking on video calls. I ended being spoiled a lot more now that he knew where I lived because I would come home to a new package I didn't remember ordering at my front door when I returned from work. If I asked him why, and he'd just shrug it off and say that it was something that reminded him of me when he was in that country for the race. After a few packages, it was overwhelming me. I felt like I was using my rich friend for financial gain. We were on call after I had opened up a package I got from Brazil. Y/N- Max, you can't keep sending me so much stuff. There was a box full of trinkets and snacks from Brazil. Max- It was nothing, did you like it? Y/N- No Max- oh ok, what do you want? I can get that for you? Y/N- Maaaaxxxxx, that's not what I meant. You have to stop sending me stuff now. It's getting over whelming. Max- But...I just wanted to bring a little something back from every race. Y/N- Yes, do that for yourself. Not me Max- I've always wanted to take you along to races and bring you stuff back from races since I've known you. Now that I can, let me make up for all the lost time. Y/N- I get the sentiment Max, I do, but no. It's making me feel crappy since I'm not able to get you anything. I enjoy our friendship, I do not want to feel like I'm using you. Max- You're not using me. I'm using myself, honestly. Y/N- I don't want to come home to anymore packages any more. If you really want to get me something, think about it for a couple time. One or two items that you would like to get for me, is perfectly fine. Max- Ok...I really wanted to get you things though. Y/N- You can tell me about your weekend. I'll listen but this is overbearing to me. Finally he got what I meant.

We ended up making a plan for the off season. Max had won the season with the amount of points he had scored. It was a given that he was gonna be the World Drivers Champion for 2023. So, I wanted to celebrate it with him. He offered to fly me out to Abu Dhabi for the race which would not be possible since I had work. That's why we planned to spend the Christmas break together. I did suggest leaving a few days before Christmas so he can spend it with his family but he was vehemently against it. I had started Christmas shopping in November, could've done it earlier. I got Max an ugly Christmas sweater with the grinch and a matching one for myself. It would be like a friendship bracelet. We would be spending the holiday in Monaco because of the privacy and I wanted to get away from here for a few days at least. I kind of wanted to clear my feeling for Max during this trip too. Being on the receiving end of Max's affection with gifts or the phone calls wasn't easy when you were in love with him. He made it so difficult to try and get over him when he would sweet talk his way back into my heart whenever I thought I didn't like him in that way.

I had sent my collection to the author I was editing for currently since she wanted to read it ever since I mentioned that I wrote. I sent her the email a couple days after going over the collection one last time. It was exciting and nerve wrecking. Maybe getting the opinion of a fellow author would help me make it better and improve it, if need be.

The last race of the season was upon us. Max was crowned the World Driver's Champion for the third time. I texted him as soon as the race ended and congratulated him. I couldn't believe that I got to witness a Max win. The day couldn't get any better when I got a call from the author I was editing for who said that she loved the collection of poems I sent her and she wanted to help me get it published under the publication she worked for. She had been working for that publication for so long and was the biggest earner that they couldn't deny her request. In her defence, she said that the poems were so good that any one stupid would only reject it. I was asked to edit it and the author was an angel to help me out. Her reasoning was that this was a mutually beneficial relationship since she hadn't enjoyed working with someone as much as she enjoyed working with me.

Winter break couldn't come any sooner. I had packed my bags; no work, done with my editing side gig. I couldn't wait to hang out with Max. The flight there felt so long, maybe it was the excitement of wanting to see him. Max was waiting for me at the airport when I got there. A big smile on his face as I walked towards him. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I hugged him. He twirled me around a little before putting me down. We walked back to the car with my bag in Max's hand. The ride there was filled with a lot of talking on Max's part. Hearing him go on about what he loved was the warmest feeling. "The cats are so excited to see you" he said. "So, you aren't?" I joked. "What no" he was flustered. "I'm excited to." he mumbled a tint of red visible on his cheeks. My heart leapt in my chest as I watched him blush. What if I wasn't delusional? What if he liked me? I thought.

At his home, the cats were a little cautious of the stranger that had entered their space but recognised me quickly by my voice and a few hours later I was sat with both of them sat on either side of me; petting the two with both of my hands. Max snapped a picture of us sat on the couch. "Can't believe this is the life you live" I said petting his cats, a soft purring exuding from both. "Having cats is the best thing ever" I almost screamed from excitement. Max laughed. "I might kidnap them" I suggested. Max shook his head, "You will do no such thing"

The next few days leading up to Christmas were a a blur, we spent time around the city, walking around and site seeing. Max was a great tour guide since he stored the most random information in his head. He gave me a quick history lesson on a lot of the places we went to. We walked along the track in Monaco since I wanted to. We went hiking; I was very out of shape is the conclusion I've come too. We spent the day leading up to Christmas cooking at home and decorating the place. This was the first time since I moved out from my parents place did I end up celebrating Christmas.

We ended up sleeping on the couch as we watched Christmas movies after tiring our self out with the decoration. I woke up in Max's arms, a warm fuzzy feeling erupted in my stomach as I watched soft snores emit from Max's lips. I carefully pried myself out of Max's grasp. When I returned, I found a disheveled Max sat on the couch. "where did you go?" he asked while rubbing his eyes. "I had to pee" I said, now sitting down on the couch beside him. "Should we open presents?" I asked. "Lemme freshen up" Max mumbled while getting up. He came back, much more awake and with 2 cups of coffee for us. We drank in silence until Max brought his present for me from under the tree and handed it to me. There were a few actually; a book on Formula One with Max's face on it, a pendent with a sapphire stone and a stupid coffee cup saying 'best friends forever'. I smiled as I held the cup against my lips acting like I was sipping coffee. "Thank you Maxie" I said. He just smile. "Now, it's your turn." I said. He grabbed the other presents; which included an ugly sweater, a Sid from Ice Age plushy and a perfume from Max's favourite brand. "These are a lot of things" he said. "Yeah, I wanted to spoil you" I smiled. "I feel spoilt" he smiled back. "I got us matching ugly sweater" I said while going to grab mine. We ended up putting our sweaters on. "I didn't tell you but I got signed by a publication" I said while Max inspected his sweater. He looked up with shock and happiness in his eyes. He quickly hugged me, "I'm so proud of you. I knew you could do it" he said while hugging me. I hugged back, "Thank you for believing in me" I said with tears in my eyes.

Christmas was a weird day, we had Turkish kabab because Max wanted to. I wasn't one to say no to delicious food. The days between Christmas and New Year were a bit of a blur honestly. On new year's eve, we went out with a couple of his friends. I had decided not to drink my weight in alcohol. As we all counted down the time to new year, the excitement palpable. When the clock struck 12, I was pulled towards the guy next to me who had made acquaintance much to Max's dismay. He pressed his lips against my lips, easing me into a kiss. When I pulled away to look at Max, who's eyes flashed hurt. I hugged Max wishing him a happy new year. We left a little while later. Max was uncharacteristically quite as we drove home.

We never spoke about the silent treatment Max gave me on the way back from the club. I left Monaco a few days after. Our friendship returning to it's long distance status. With Max having to train for the next season and me having to prepare for school and my book.

The next few months were a blur with both of us quite busy. Max kept is his streak of winning the races and watching him win was a proud feeling. He would call me at the end of the day to discuss what happened and I enjoyed listening to him even though I didn't know shit about cars.

I spent the entirety of my spring break and summer break with Max, travelling to his races; which he insisted I joined. The feelings I had for him only grew. I tried to keep myself in check but all the small things he would do made it impossible. He was caring and sweet and kind, and most of all my first love that I had a hard time moving on from.

His summer break was spent lounging around my house. He accompanied me to the launch of my book; going as far as to promote it on his socials. People had started to speculate that there was something going on in between us. Max didn't really answer those questions or even try to kill the rumours. He got me a big bouquet of my favourite flowers when he came to the book launch. We went out for dinner to celebrate; ending up on all the tabloids the next day. I apologised to Max about the mess but he was unbothered, a little smile played on his face after he read the articles but nothing more.

After the summer break, Max was flying out to Netherland, for his home race. I couldn't join him due to there being a few tests I needed to grade but promised to be there for the race. I flew in the morning of the race, Max showing up at the airport to pick me up. He wouldn't let me be on my own, if he was there. We caught up on the stuff that happened in the 2 days we didn't speak. It felt like routine talking to Max. If we didn't, it felt like my day had gone my horribly and everything that could go wrong would go wrong. There was comfort in Max's voice and his arms whenever he hugged me.

I accompanied Max to the paddock, the cheers loud. Last year, was the first time I was here, this year it felt so familiar even though it was only my second time. Max wasn't starting pole but he could still finish first since he was in the front row. The race started off with Max over taking Lando at turn 1. The chance of Max wining his home race for the fourth time seemed more likely. But as the race went on, Max lost his P1 to Lando who kept the distance between him and Max a constant. Making Max finish P2, the way he started. He got out of the car to find me and his team waiting for him. I mouthed a congratulations as he walked towards me. He had tears in his eyes, "I wanted to ask you out as a race winner." he said wiping his tears. My heart skipped a beat; "You can still ask me out" I suggested. "But I'm scared of what you'll say" he muttered. "My answer would be the same, whether you were P1 or P2" I said. "And what's that?" he asked expectantly. "I would love to go out with you, Maxie" I said with a smile and tears in my eyes. Max almost jumped when he heard me, "Go on and finish up. We have a lot to talk about" I said pushing him towards the media pen.

I was waiting in his driver's room just like last year. But this time it was different, there were butterflies in my stomach and I couldn't stop smiling. I found myself pacing around the room, imagining what we would say. I was pulled out of my thought by Max now standing at the door. "Hi" he greeted shyly. "Hey" I replied, sitting on the sofa followed by Max. We sat facing each other, he took my hands in his, "Lifde, I can't believe this" he began. "me neither" I chimed in. "I've liked you for so long, I don't remember a time I didn't like you since I've known you" I continued. Max couldn't help but smile. "I didn't think you felt the same" I said. "I didn't think you felt the same either." He added. "Y/N I really wanted to win this race and ask you out as a race winner." He sulked. "You're already a race winner and a three time champion at that. I couldn't ask for more. Plus I couldn't care less; to me you'll always be a winner" I said. He took my face in his hands, "Can I kiss you?" he asked softly. I nodded. His lips inched closer to mine before they touched, our eyes fluttered close, his lips dry and chapped against my soft shiny glossed lips. Our lips moved in synchrony, tilting our head as we deepened the kiss. His hand trailing down from my cheek to my waist to pull me closer, I was now sat on his lap. I pulled away breathless, our foreheads touching, breaths intermingling, eyes locked; "I love you Y/N" he stated. "I have for a while. I didn't know how to say it. I'm glad not winning pushed me over the edge" "I love you too, Maxie. Can't wait to celebrate your fourth championship" I said. "You think?" he asked. "I know" I said, cupping his cheeks to kiss him again. His hands on my waist pulled me closer, as if it was even possible. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked in between kisses. "Yes" I breathed out as we continued to kiss.

When god sends blessings, it becomes hard to count. I got the man of my dreams and the stepping stone to my career goals.

[tayraedoll]

The Devil at Play

You are a new sinner at the hotel; you are shy but you finally open up after a couple drinks at the bar. Angel Dust steers the conversation to his favorite spicy topic, little do you know there is someone else who is intently listening in.

My first attempt at a Lucifer fic! Let me know what you think <3

Word count: 3,824

18+ MDNI

TW: Alcohol, swearing, drunken shenanigans, sharing a bed, use of s3x toys, rose suction stimulator, fingering, fluff

"Say, is that a mirror in y'er pocket? Cuz I can see myself getting in y'er pants", Angel seductively wagged his eyebrows at Husk, making the feline roll his eyes and take another swig from his bottle.

You smiled into your second cosmopolitan, trying to suppress the giggle that wanted to bubble up. It had been two weeks since you joined the Hazbin Hotel crew and you finally felt comfortable enough to join the others for a drink at the bar. You were never the most social person in life, and that trait followed you into the afterlife. You had spent most of your nights by yourself either in your room or in a quiet part of the hotel like the library. You didn't have anything against the other residents, you were just super self-conscious in social situations. But you were determined to befriend the others and took the leap to finally put yourself out there a bit.

Charlie was definitely the easiest to be around, her bubbly personality made you feel at ease. You also did not have to talk much in her presence, the girl spoke a million words a minute which allowed you to largely just sit there and listen to her rambling. Vaggie was also alright, she wasn't nearly as talkative as her girlfriend but she had a calmness about her. Niffty and Husk mostly just ignored you, they'd briefly acknowledge your presence before getting caught up in their own worlds again. It took a few days for you to warm up to Angel Dust, his crude humor initially made you uncomfortable. But he saw how truly uneasy you were so he never directed those remarks at you which helped tremendously. Now, you were just as content in his presence as you were Charlie's. You honestly stayed clear of Alastor when you could, alarm bells would blare in your head when he was around and your stomach would flip nauseatingly. He was definitely outwardly sweet, but your gut told you not to trust him so you vowed to keep the deer demon at arms distance.

The only resident that you just could not get a read on at all was the King of Hell himself. Lucifer was always so distant, you couldn't recall a single actual conversation shared between the two of you in your entire time at the hotel. Although he didn't necessarily make you feel unwelcome, you did not think he was particularly fond of you either. Part of you wanted to confront him, ask him what his problem with you was; but the other part of you figured the only thing worse than the Devil's cold shoulder would be his wrath. Unwilling to risk angering the fallen angel, you resigned yourself to the act of pretending the other person didn't exist.

'God he was pathetic, two weeks have gone by and he still hadn't mustered the courage to talk to you!', Lucifer thought to himself. Every time he took the initial step to finally strike up a conversation he would inevitably psych himself out of it; he was afraid of coming off weird or worse- desperate. The Devil used to be a smooth talker, but Lilith walking out on him wreaked havoc on his self-esteem. Now, it seemed all he could do is watch you from afar, perpetually tongue-tied and timorous.

He swirled his whiskey around in the glass, watching the amber liquid intently as he tried to come up with yet another reason to talk to you. He sighed heavily, maybe he should just go to bed instead and save himself any more embarrassment.

"So Whispers," Lucifer perked up at hearing Angel's nickname for you, he thought it was positively adorable, "what does it take to make you scream?" Lucifer nearly choked on his whiskey, struggling to stifle his cough in his jacket.

You felt your face heat up, you swished your cosmo before downing the whole thing in one gulp. The alcohol in your system was making you more brazen, with a determined hum to yourself you set the glass back down with a little more force than necessary before turning to face the pornstar.

"You know what? I don't think I ever have. I think that is just some ploy pornos use to make sex seem better than it actually is", you smirk at the stunned look in the spider's eyes, his jaw practically unhinged with how low it dropped.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa timeout here Whispers! Are you tellin me you ain't ever orgasmed before?!", Angel narrowed his eyes at you, trying to detect any hint of deception.

"No- I mean I have! It's just...it's never been like what porn makes it look like! You know- like the 'can't walk straight, seeing stars, and brain won't function anymore' kind. In reality, it's a lot more subtle than that. That's all I'm saying", you shrug and look around the bar to escape Angel's look of complete horror. Your eyes find Lucifer's across the bar- he is staring right at you with such intensity you felt his eyes bore right into your very soul. You swallow dryly and turn back to Angel, his aghast expression was much preferable to Lucifer's fierce staring contest.

"Sweet Satan Babycakes, I don't think you've EVER had GOOD sex before! Don't worry, we will fix this! I will get you set up with an online dating profile and we will get you laid by the end of the week", Angel reached for your phone- which you were thankfully able to grab first you shuddered to think about what the pornstar would write for a dating profile.

"Thanks Angel but I am not really wanting to meet anyone right now. Besides, I promise you I am more than capable of taking care of myself", you shoot him a wink. "I'm off to bed, goodnight everyone!" After the resounding chorus of 'goodnights' from the other guests you make your way to the stairs, completely unaware of the yellow eyes that followed your every step until you were out of sight.

An hour later you were freshly showered and changed into your comfiest PJ's; you were about to get into bed when there was a knock at your door. You sighed heavily, you swear if Angel was at your door with a picture of a dude on a dating app you were going to to shave all of fluff right off. Half-stomping to the door you open it roughly, "Angel really, I'm ser-". Your eyes became wide as saucers, it was not Angel at your door as you expected but Lucifer himself. "Uhhh...what can I do for you Luc- I mean your majesty?!" Heat spread throughout your face and neck, no doubt you were tomato red right now.

"Luc-ifers f-fine sweet-art", he slurred back. You raise a brow and appraise the Devil before you; he was utterly disheveled- his shirt untucked, vest and tie pulled open, hair a wild mess like his hands kept running through it, and his eyes were completely glazed over. The angel was completely shit-faced and standing at your door in the middle of the night- great. But WHY was he here? And did he really need to get absolutely hammered in order to talk to you? Your smile faltered, that thought stung more than you cared to admit.

"Sooo uhh Lucifer, is there something I can help you with?" you cock your head to the side questioningly.

The blonde beamed at you with the brightest smile, your heart becoming a puddle in your chest at the sight, "Yes! Y/N, would you do me the date of going on an honor with me? Wait-what?"

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped you, he was too stinkin cute, "Maaayyybe we should revisit this conversation tomorrow when you have sobered up."

"NO!", he suddenly wrapped his fingers around your shoulders, you let out a gasp of surprise as you stared into his wild eyes. "I-I'm so sorry. You're right, I just...don't know if I'll have the courage to." Your heart broke, he looked close to tears and was having a hard time looking you in the eyes. "I've been trying to talk to your for weeks...I'm such a coward", he sniffed and moved to pull away from you, however, you were quick to grab hold of him and wrap him in a tight hug.

"It's okay, I have a hard time talking to others as well. That doesn't make you a coward", you feel him wrap his arms around you in return, you vow to hold him for as long as he needed.

After several minutes he shifted more of his weight onto you, making you stumble and readjust so neither of you fell. "Hey Lucifer?", you were met with silence. "Lucifer!", this time you got a small snore. Fantastic, now he was asleep practically on top of you. Now what were you supposed to do about this? You looked around, no one was in the hallway, likely everyone had gone to bed already. You sighed, you were not strong enough to carry him up three flights of stairs to his room, nor could you just leave him on the hallway floor. Your only liable option was to bring him into your room and share the bed, it was at least big enough that you could share it without needing to touch each other.

You half-dragged/half-carried the King of Hell to your bed and set him on the edge. You took the time to remove his shoes before tucking his legs under the covers and bringing the comforter up to his chin. He had a soft smile on his face, it was the first time you had ever seen him look peaceful. You smiled at him for a moment, "Goodnight Lucifer", you whispered. Your feet padded softly on the floor as you tiptoed to the other side of the bed, carefully slinking in so you wouldn't disturb his majesty. With a final glance at the angel beside you, you let your consciousness drift into dreams of yellow eyes and warm hugs.

Lucifer grumbled unhappily, pushing his face further into his pillow in an attempt to block out some of the light seeping in through the window. He just became aware of the pounding headache behind his eyes, Satan why did he drink so much?! Okay yea, perhaps the 4 whiskey sours he chugged before running to your room were a bit much...WAIT. He froze, memories suddenly crashing back into his mind. HE. HAD. COME. TO. YOUR. ROOM. Yellow eyes flew wide open- the baby blue comforter, the Verosika poster on the wall, and the side table full of make-up, perfume, and lotion were DEFINITELY not his. He slowly picked his head up and his breath caught in his throat- he was on top of you, hugging you koala-bear style, and what he thought was the comfiest pillow in existence was actually your left breast. HE WAS NUZZLING HIS FACE INTO YOUR BOSOM NOT EVEN 60 SECONDS AGO!

Thankfully, what was left of his lucky stars came together and you were not yet awake to find him in such a compromising position. However, with how he was wrapped around you there was a high chance that he would wake you by moving. Slowly, he extracted his arms from underneath you one at a time; he breathed a sigh of relief when he was safely moved over to "his" side of the bed. Now what? Did he just continue to lay here until you woke up? Would it be weirder if he watched you sleep or if he just left and made you wake up alone? Luckily (the the second time already this morning), his thoughts did not have to spiral for long before you stirred beside him. You groggily blinked the sleep from your beautiful eyes before gifting him with your radiant smile, "Good morning! Sleep well?"

The angel chuckled nervously, golden blush painting his cheeks as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, "Yea, better than I have for a while honestly. Thank you." You both fall into an uncomfortable silence, neither of you knowing where to go from here.

"So uhh.."

"About last night-"

You both stop, giving the other room to speak first which only led to more unpleasant silence.

"Ladies first."

"No, I insist, you first"

Lucifer coughed nervously, "I'm sorry for last night. I shouldn't have come to your room, especially in such an inebriated state. But thank you for not kicking me out or otherwise shunning me."

You gave him a small smile "Well, I couldn't just leave our king alone in the hallway. What kind of hostess would that have made me?" The king chuckled before you continued in a barely audible whisper, "Do you remember what you said last night?"

Lucifer's eyebrows scrunched together as he carded through his memories, trying to figure out what you could be referring to. His eyes went wide before he turned back to you,"Yes!"

You each just stared at each other for a bit, both equally flushed. Finally, you broke the silence, "Yes...you remember?"

"Oh! Golly, I am so sorry! Yes, I remember and YES I would still like to take you out on a date! I-if you would like to go that is...on a date...with me."

Your happy giggle sounded like music to his ears, you gently reached for is hand and intertwined your fingers together, "I'd love to. I mean, technically, we have already slept together", you shot him a wink.

Lucifer gave you a sultry smile, "Ah yes, I will make sure that I am sober next time so I can fully enjoy the experience." You laughed, getting up to collect your things to get ready for the day. Lucifer followed suit, patting around the bed for his phone; when he couldn't find it he reached for the bedside table. Upon opening a drawer he found a peculiar device- it was in the shape of rose with an opening in the middle. Intrigued, the demon king pushed the "on" button and suction took place at the opening.

Lucifer's face turned a brilliant gold when he realized what he was holding. And it was just his luck that you happened to walk back over at that moment.

"So, what's on the ag-", you cut off when you saw your sex toy in the angel's hand; all you two could do was stare at each other- seemed you were doing that a lot lately. To break the tension, Lucifer said the first thing that came to mind.

"Does this make you scream?"

Your mind was blank, all trains of thought came to an abrupt halt when you found THE KING OF HELL with your rose clitoral stimulator in hand. You couldn't comprehend the question he asked, "Er...what?"

"Well I-uh...I remember Angel asking what made you scream at the bar last night and you said nothing. I must admit that I agree with Angel on thinking you have never, ever had good sex if you've never lost composure."

"Oh really? And do you think that YOU could make me lose my composure?", you crossed your arms in front of you and smirked.

The king stared back at you with wide eyes, the beautiful caramel color taking over his face again. You slowly approached him until you were standing just an inch apart, "Show me."

It was like a switch was flipped at your words, Lucifer's hands were on your hips and he began walking you backwards towards the bed. When your legs hit the bed, he raised one hand to gently cup your cheek as he leaned in to leave a tender kiss on your lips. His lips were as smooth as satin and tasted like candied apples; you moaned sensually, which he took advantage of by delving his tongue into your mouth.

Suddenly, his hand still on your hip turned you around so your back was to him. He sat back on the bed, pulling you with him until you were sat between his legs with your back pressed to his chest; you could feel his heart beating erratically, his body hard- hinting at the chiseled musculature that lay underneath his clothing. The king's panting breaths gently rocked you forward; he nuzzled his face into your neck, planting soft kisses on your sensitive skin.

Your hands gripped onto his knees as his hands slowly moved up your sides and fondled your breasts through your clothes, another wanton moan escaping you.

"Oh my sweet Angel, losing control already? I haven't even begun to touch you yet", Lucifer's voice had dropped an octave, deep and rich like barrel-aged bourbon. You pushed your breasts into his hands as her expertly kneaded them. He lightly gripped your shoulders and pushed you forward just enough for him to get your shirt over your head, he took your bra off as well before pulling you back to rest against him once more.

"Now, let's see what other pretty sounds you can make", he turned the suction on at the lowest setting again, the sound of the buzzing toy filling the room. The devil began by moving the toy down your neck and across your collarbone, the slight suction making your skin tingle. As he made his way down your décolleté, your grip on his knees tightened and whimper passed through your lips. The moment the suction caught onto your hardened nipple your back arched almost painfully and your mouth popped open into a perfect "O".

"That's it gorgeous, just relax, let me take care of you."

He increased the suction on your nipple by one setting, his other hand masterfully pinching and tweaking your other nipple. Your thighs clamped together, hips gyrating desperately to get friction between your legs as the heat in your lower belly blossomed. Lucifer returned his lips to your neck, nipping your skin and leaving dark bruises in his wake. You cried out in a half-moan/half-sob, the coil tightening alarmingly fast. You bit down on your lip as you struggled to ground yourself in the overwhelming pleasure.

"Oh no, no, no Sweetheart. No holding back your tempting cries, I want to hear them all", he removed his fingers from your breast to dip a claw into your mouth to free your lip from your teeth. Returning his fingers to your aching nipple, he swirled the same claw that was just in your mouth around the sensitive bud. All the sensations were too much, with a scream, you came undone under his fingers. Your head hit the demon's shoulder as you caught your breath. Did he really just make you cum by only touching your nipples?!

Before you knew what was happening, the rose was moving down your navel towards your waist. You were not sure how or when it happened but you now found yourself completely bare. Instinctively, you attempted to close your knees to hide yourself only to be stopped by two strong legs wrapping around your thighs and forcing them apart.

"That was a fabulous first act Angel, but it's time for the grand finale", Lucifer had not dropped that sultry tone. Your core clenched upon hearing the promise of pleasure in his voice, slick leaking from your needy hole and ruining the bedsheets underneath you. His fingers trailed down your side, tickling your belly, before slipping between your folds. A loud gasp erupted from you as the king lazily circled your sensitive nub, "So wet for me, such a good girl. Are you ready for more?"

His fingers parted your folds, holding your outer labia apart to expose your clit while his other hand held the rose to hover just above your most sensitive spot. You knew it was coming, but a jolt of electricity still rocked your every nerve ending the moment the suction hit your pearl. Your thighs immediately tensed almost painfully, Lucifer's own legs keeping you spread-eagled; a high-pitched trill resounded throughout the room.

"Just like that Doll, keep those gorgeous sounds coming", Lucifer's fingers slid down your lower lips and two digits pushed into you, rubbing along your gummy walls until he found that perfect spot that had your head falling back on his chest again. His fingers set a long, smooth rhythm, brushing that sweet spot over and over again. The squelching sound of his fingers disappearing into your pussy accompanying your cries.

You had lost control of your voice, your lewd moans escaping you completely unbidden as your whole body coiled impossibly tight. Knowing how close you were, The Devil pressed the button to increase the suction just a bit more and the damn finally broke. You came with such a deafening scream there was no way it was not heard throughout the entire hotel. Your head was spinning from the lack of oxygen to your brain, sweat covering you in a thin sheen as you panted. You could officially say you were fucked until you couldn't think straight.

Lucifer set the rose to the side and wrapped his arms around you, rubbing soothing circles up and down your arms as you came down from your high. He planted adoring kisses on the hickies left on your neck and licking up the trails of sweat.

"So, do you still believe that screaming is just some ploy used in porn to fake pleasure?", the angel asked when your breathing finally returned to normal.

You giggled, "I'll admit, that was the best sex I have ever had."

"Oh Darling, you know I am the sin of pride right? There is no reason to inflate my ego like that", you could feel his smile against your skin. You twisted around to face him, pressing your lips to his.

"If I had known you were capable of that, I would have spoken to you a long time ago", you winked.

"Well, now I'm worried that no conversation will live up to your expectations", he chuckled.

"Hmm, somehow I highly doubt that."

At that moment, your stomach embarrassingly decided to join the conversation. Lucifer smiled wider "Do you like pancakes?"

"I could definitely go for some pancakes right now", you nodded.

Lucifer kissed your temple, "I'll meet you downstairs then!" With that, The Devil disappeared into a portal and left you to get dressed. You couldn't help but smile as you replayed the unexpected turn of events. You were really happy you decided to go to the bar last night.

[thealbatrovss]

snow angel // logan howlett x reader

summary: you try and ask logan out. when did he start making snow angels?

oneshot- a little angst and then just pure fluff.

word count - 1k+

masterlist

The bar was loud. Your heart was beating even louder.

Logan sat at the very end of the counter. His leather jacket hung over his seat. He was trying to light his cigarette. The bartender was telling him to knock it off. He cursed. “What kind of bar doesn’t let you smoke?”

“This one.” The older woman plucked it out of his mouth before he could take the first inhale. He rolled his eyes, sipping on his beer, catching your stare.

You shrug your condolences, face warming up and turned away. You wore your best outfit tonight. One that made you feel confident. And you were going to need all the confidence you could get.

It wasn’t that big of a deal, but you were going to ask him out tonight. After years of lingering glances, flirting on missions, shoulder brushes and hallway conversations, it was well past time. You always thought he’d be the first to initiate any sort of conversation about it. But that never came.

It scared you, making you go through every single interaction you had with him. Did you remember all those moments wrong? Were you really just friends?

No. You weren’t wrong. Something was brewing between the both of you, and you had to be the one that challenged the storm.

Yet, here you were, stuck picking at the wooden board beneath you as you both drank by yourselves.

Underneath all that rough exterior you found a soft man who would do anything for the ones he loved. You saw it in the way he stepped up whenever The X Men needed help. Whenever a student failed, he told them to get back up again.

He was kind. Much kinder than the winter blizzard raging outside. Even if he didn’t always show it, you felt it.

After saving your ass during this afternoons mission, you offered to repay him with a drink. He of course couldn’t say no to that. Especially since you were paying.

That left you in the present, seated across the bar away from him. Alone. There were only a few seats left and none of them were next to each other. So you continued to stir your fruity drink, leg bouncing up and down aggressively.

It couldn't be that hard. You were an adult, god dammit. All you needed was a little drink and you’d be sharp and on your feet, walking over to him. Too bad you were nursing a third.

The man seated next to you shot you a glare, as if he were telling you to stop hitting his seat. You mouthed a couple, “sorrys,” and turned back to Logan.

He was with a woman. A very beautiful woman. She was sitting right by him. Somehow she was able to convince the man next to Logan to switch her seats. The man seemed dejected as her full attention turned to your teammate and friend.

You tried not to give in to the nagging insecurities and the, “I told you sos,” festering in your mind. But then she put her hand over his and he didn’t even bother to move it. He actually smiled a bit. Or was that the alcohol making you see things?

“This was stupid,” you mumbled, wanting to fold into yourself. The room was hot, almost suffocating.

Jackie stopped cleaning out the glasses in her hands and turned to talk to you. “What’s stupid?”

“Nothing, Jackie.”

“The drink I made? You better still give me a tip.”

“Of course I will.” You handed her some cash, not really caring how much you gave her.

She stuffed it into her pocket. “Is everything okay? You’re usually a pain in the ass.”

You scoffed, rubbing your hands together anxiously. The woman was giggling now. You didn't have the strength to see Logan’s reaction. Nor did you want to. “Thanks for that.”

“Hey, I'd take pain in the ass drunk any day over whatever wallowing you’re doing over here. What’s going on?”

You downed your last drink in a few gulps, letting the alcohol sting. “Sometimes you’re just too late is all.”

Then, with a wave goodbye, you put on your coat, and headed back to the car. You’d wait there, see if Logan would come out to greet you with a drunk smile soon to fade due to his regeneration or you’d see his lips stuck to the women in the bar as they stumbled out the door. It hurt to think of the latter.

You sat in the freezing car, hoping the heat would kick in soon. The butterflies you felt when he was showing you how to play pool just an hour ago turned to snakes. Everything was uncomfortable. Your clothes, the weather, the leather seats, the heat finally hitting your cold face. You didn’t want to cry, but those drinks were very unforgiving.

The snow glistened in its furry. It didn’t take its time reaching the ground, it came down with no mercy. The light of Jackie’s Bar was blurry against the tumbling snowflakes. You tried to make out the figure exiting the bar and standing in front of the car. The person moved soon after you could make out the yellow on his jacket.

“What the hell?”

Logan held his arms out in the furious weather, trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue. He shook his head, the white icy dancing off his hair. You could hear him shout something that sounded like your name before he fell onto his back in the powered snow.

You hurried out the car, wondering if Logan was really that drunk or if that even was Logan. But it was. And he was making snow angels. Well, he was trying to at least.

“Is this how you’re supposed to make them?” He moved his feet and hands at the same time but in the same direction, creating streaks on the ground. Nothing an angel would look like. “I’m not doing it correctly, am I?”

The cold nipped at your nose and ears, but the drinks thankfully kept you somewhat warm. You bit your lip. “You’ve never done one before?”

“Nope.” He continued to do every single step wrong and you continued to watch it happen. “This isn’t that fun.”

“When you’re a kid it’s everything.”

He sat up, looking over his shoulder at the work he did. “Well, I’ve been an adult way longer than I ever was a kid.”

“Are you sure about that?”

The snow started to slow down, gently drifting through the wind. Logan rubbed his legs like he was nervous to say something. “Why’d you come out here?”

You swallowed. It was so damn cold. “I could ask you the same thing?”

He shrugged. “Jackie dared me to.”

“Jackie?” You wondered. “Was she finding a way to get you out of her bar? What did you do this time?”

“Nothing.” He scratched the back of his head. “I think she knew I wasn’t really into that lady back there.”

You looked from the bar and back at the man sitting in the snow. “That’s surprising. I thought you two looked cute together.” You wanted to slap yourself. What was this self sabotaging? Maybe you just wanted to rip the bandaid off, finally be free of whatever was happening between the two of you.

Logan let out a laugh, shaking off the snow from his jacket in a pointless attempt. “I think the blizzard has frozen your brain. Just think about what I just said.”

You put your hands up in defense. “Hey, I’m not the one making snow angels well past midnight.”

“It got your attention though.” He pointed out.

You tilted your head to the side in defeat. “You always have my attention.” The filter inside your brain decided not to work apparently. Maybe it was frozen. Your eyes widened at the realization.

“Good.” It was only one word but he said it like it could and would fix anything. “We’re finally getting somewhere.” Logan stood up, inching closer. “I’d like to kiss you now. If that’s okay with you?”

And you nodded. It was the easiest thing in the world to agree too. You were shivering and it was so cold but he asked if he could kiss you and nothing else mattered in that moment.

When his lips finally touched yours it was soft and gentle. He held your cheeks with his fingers, they were surprisingly warm against your cool skin. The kiss grew more intense, the flick of his tongue sliding slowly against your bottom lip. Your hands found his hair, his found your waist. It was a kiss trying to soak up years of missed opportunities. Of late night talkings and infirmary visits. Missions gone wrong, missions gone right.

When you finally parted for air, his hands moved back to your cheeks. He smiled like the smile would never come off his face. “Next time you get jealous, just come and talk to me. You’re fun to talk to. More fun to kiss.”

You rolled your eyes and nodded in reply. “Does this mean alcohol angels next?”

He groaned at the joke, still smiling. “Come on. Let's get in the car before you freeze to death.”

[ellsbclls]

Can I request something with Vi? Maybe like dating headcanons, or maybe where Vi and reader got separated after the council incident that happened but reunite after vi came a pit fighter, and once they see each other again talk a bit before making out

thank you thank you thank you thank you, angel 🥹 i had the absolute hardest time trying to choose which prompt to do, so for the time being i'm gonna word vomit about how good of a girlfriend vi would be, and then i'll work up the courage to execute such a fun and cool scenario!

𖨂 DATING VI HEADCANONS;

  ⟢ vi has always been lead by her heart and so, when she finds someone who embraces it — not for what it can be but for what it is — she lays her weapons down

  ⟢ during her shifts, she'll squirrel away at little souvenirs to bring home to you. it's not enough to just tell you about it, she needs to veil your mirror with a string of noxian banners, the emblem scratched away and embroidered with lily-shaped bolts and acrylic wire. she needs you to know that you're the first thing that comes to her mind when she sees something so tender in the face of violence. by the end of the week, your vanity is overflowing with so many little trinkets that its barely useful anymore, save for her gifts and the exhibition of them. and yet, when she slips the vein of a curling leaf into the palm of your hand, you find a sliver of space for it to live and stretch in front of the face of the mirror, listening intently while she explains how it marked the beginning of another fall with you.

  ⟢ when she finds herself close enough to you, she always tucks her head into the soft of your jaw. and not even in search of a kiss, or at the expense of her teeth. she just breathes you in, where your heartbeat lives, and rocks you back and forth, matching her rhythm the the flighty rate of it.

  ⟢ she hates to bother you with her gauze, and her dressing never cease to bother you. with how often she uses her hands, its inevitable that they will unravel, they'll tear and crease by the end of the day, but god forbid she asks you to help her. no, it won't be until you walk in on her in the bathroom, and she freezes in time — her canines snagging at the tail of a bandage roll while her other arm angles so precariously that it's almost comical. "i've got this," the words are so mangled between her teeth that you choose to ignore them. "i'm sure you do, but humor me." when you take the mantle, she can't help but notice how strong your hands are, how steady, like you're performing surgery. and in a way, you are, putting her back together the only way you know how — carefully.

  ⟢ despite her hands and how heavy they are, she touches you gently. near hesitant. her fingers sweep at the bottom of your eye when you’re drowsy, or tug at the corner of your mouth until it’s nothing but a cheesy half smile, clumsily obvious in her efforts to simply be near you. she’ll say “eyes up here, mister” when she notices how sleazy she’s making you look, but then blush into a blister when you do obey, flashing a pretty pair of doe eyes back at her, your sleazy smirk erupting into something saccharine and beguiled. she barely notices how easily you melt into her touches. so accustomed to drawing blood, to digging into the heel of her palm and restraining, that she feels giddy and drunk with the prospect of holding you and knowing you won’t falter.

  ⟢ she's also a little gross

  ⟢ well, a lot gross, actually. she’ll clean her runny nose with the bottom of her shirt, or dig it into the scruffy pink heat of her armpit and stop, letting the scent hit her tastebuds before she, without fail, shrugs it off. and whenever you catch her in the midst of doing something so gross, she’ll freeze and maintain an eerily impressive sort of eye contact with you, knowing full well that you’ll break eye contact with her before she has a chance to feel ashamed by her actions. it’s the price of growing up with brothers (+ jinx) and never paying for it.

  ⟢ in her restless hours, when you and your body lay half-hazed and dreamy, tucked into the throws and comforts of your bed, perfumed by the drowsy memory of a shower and toasted rice, she comes and crawls into the open spaces you’ve left. for her. to map out and nestle into from above the covers. when she finally finds you, as if you’re not impossibly intertwined already, she needles her arms around your back. nevermind how useless they become in the morning when the prick and pin of morning emerges. who cares? for just one selfish moment it’s just the two of you, cast to an island of quilted sands and dreams.

  ⟢ she also has a hard time saying no to you. the words come out, sure, but the actions never quite line up.

  ⟢ like one instance, early into the post-war rehabilitation efforts. most of piltover had been ravaged, a shiny metropolis brought to pieces — ivory rubble and the singing of distant songs. remarkably, the only remaining piece of infrastructure was the bridge to zaun. its made it easier for the relief efforts to come, and in droves they come — filling empty stomachs, arms aplenty with gauze and vodka, ornamenting what’s left of piltover with remnants of a zaun left unspoken for, whispers of something new and whole. and yet the only thing she hears is the hum of your voice, a gentle echo — "do you think the fish shop is still open?"

  ⟢ for you, it's simple, but to her the request is haunting. she hadn't the heart to tell you that, of the many things that zaun could not preserve, the fish shop was the first to go, and she had spent the remaining weeks finding ways to break it to you. but all fell short in comparison to just doing something about it, even if that something meant tracking the limescaled chef to the heart of zaun and requesting your order a la carte, her heavy gauntlet punctuating the request through the hardwood of his makeshift home.

[quill-beetlewing]

I've just re-read the short lived duel that Aeneas and Achilles have in Book 20 of the Iliad and it's actually the most hilarious fucking thing.

So it starts out with Apollo disguising himself as Lycaon, one of Priam's many sons, and telling to have a go at Achilles. Keep in mind that this is post-Patroclus Achilles. Aka: berserk Achilles. Aka: so fucking mad he would fight a literal river Achilles.

Aeneas, who is capable of critical thinking, says he doubts he can actually take him on. He also references a time when he was herding cattle on Mount Ida and Achilles ambushed him, adding that the only reason he survived then was because Zeus gave him enough strength to book it (cracking up the official times that he's been saved by a god from certain death to 3, you go dude!).

However, after a bit of back and forth and a ton of hyping up on Apollo's part, Aeneas decides to try anyway.

Like, what could possibly go wrong?

Achilles notices Aeneas charging at him and he begins to taunt him. It's something among the lines of: "I'm sorry, are you, background trojan character #61, actually gonna try and beat me? And then what? Do you think that Priam will reward you in some way? Maybe making you king after him? Well it's BULLSHIT, because Priam fucked so much that your chances of succeeding him are basically 0. Ahah. Loser."

Now, you'd think that maybe Aeneas got enraged at the comment and attacked him, or maybe he even got scared and backed down, but NOPE. What does Aeneas do?

Well, first of all, he insults Achilles' insults, comparing his bickering to that of a child. Literally, "I heard third graders do better than that." And then he decides to list his and Hector's entire fucking family tree.

You know that part of the Bible that's like "this guy sired this other guy, and this other guy sired yet another guy" and so on? It's basically that.

So after he's done with all that, Aeneas states that while he'd love to have a battle of insults with Achilles, because according to him he's actually very good at insulting people (his words, not mine), they should probably throw hands now. Achilles agrees.

The duel is shortlived and Aeneas gets his ass handed to him. Badly. As expected. And he's about die when ✨️POV shift✨️ we're not on Olympus where Poseidon, Hera and Athena are watching this absolute train wreck go down.

Poseidon, pitying Aeneas, suddenly goes on a rant. It's something among the lines of: "come on guys, look at him, he's just a little guy! He literally has no stakes in this war, he doesn't deserve to die here! He even gives us lots of gifts and sacrifices, he's literally such a nice guy. How can we do this to him!?

...oh and also he's part of some prophecy, Zeus would get mad if he died."

The fact that the way it's worded makes it sound like Aeneas being part of a literal prophecy is an afterthought to him absolutely floors me, Poseidon is literally just attached to a random dude that's fighting on the opposite side to his because he thinks he's nice.

After all that Hera is pretty unimpressed and states that she really doesn't care if our man lives or dies as neither her or Athena have ever saved a Trojan from death, she however adds that Poseidon is free to do whatever he wants.

The literal moment Hera stops talking, Poseidon lunges down from Olympus and onto the battlefield to look for the two combatants. When he does, he saves Aeneas like only he can do.

You know how when Diomedes first tries to kill Aeneas, Aphrodite gently folds her hands around him to shield him? There's none of that here. Poseidon just runs up to him and literally flings the motherfucker.

It literally says that he flies "high in the air". It's like a Looney Toons sketch.

So Aeneas lands and, while he's obviously a bit dazed, Poseidon proceeds to call him a madman and essentially tells him to never do something stupid like that again and just wait until Achilles is dead, then he'll be able to murder Achaeans to his heart's content. Aeneas is fine with that.

Achilles, who just saw his opponent just get yeeted into the fucking sky, just shrugs and goes "welp, guess that guy's off limits, I'm gonna go kill someone else now I guess lol".

This entire scene is pure fucking gold and the fact that I've literally never seen anyone talk about it just breaks my heart.

[fantasticarcadefan]

First there was war.

|Warning, graphic descriptions, calculated desperation, curse words, refers to untold amounts of trauma caused by deaths to the reader|

|Imposter SAGAU x Soulsborne Female Creator|

Part 1/2

(First time gendering the reader, throw a sky scraper of criticism onto me on where to improve)

You've been sent to hell and back several times, and now she thinks she can admit it and live? Be her judgement for her transgression.

If fate was a person, you would chop them into pencil shaving sized pieces while it's still alive.

You don't remember when this all started, all you do recall is that you fell asleep one day and the next, you ended up in a land called Boletaria, starting your lives in hell. And it has been about the same situation ever since, with you being transported into several other worlds, all of which had you die. A lot.

Whether it was Yharnim, the Lands Between, Sengoku Era Japan, or the three kingdoms that need a flame to be re-lit to keep humanity thriving, all had a common factor of putting you through hell, dying over and over again and losing those you cared about in each world, with the only benefits you had were that your skills had sharpened over time with each death and that your gear was saved and interchangeable per world.

But even that wasn't fully a blessing, with you often needing to do several of what you call endings, a different fate that would take hold in what ever world you were in, making you lose all of the weapons that you gathered in that world.

And as a result, you became akin to a shell of yourself with how you've changed. If you were to suddenly be taken back to Earth and see your family and friends again, you're sure they wouldn't recognize you.

Worse still, you remembered each death and life you lived vividly, and every friend from those worlds that you lost.

Yet for some reason, you always had the courage to go forward. You always had hope for a better tomorrow, with it growing more and more in each hell you entered and left.

Now, you find yourself chained up in the chamber of a massive chapel, standing in front of your doppelganger, the supposed creator of Teyvat, with her babbling on and on about god knows what, being adorned in what you assumed to be the finest clothes and jewelry they have gotten from the people.

Around you, a huge crowd of said people consisting of both NPC'S and most of the characters that you used to admire listened on to her fervently, with the archons besides Furina who may have been among the sea of people in the crowd with Neuvillette taking her place flanking this clone of you.

Oddly enough, you find yourself wearing the same clothes that you wore when you fell asleep on your last night on Earth.

Honestly, if it weren't the tight chains on you, you're pretty sure you would have fallen asleep several times over due to how annoying she was. Compared to those-

"Are you even listening to me??!!" The imposter yells out, bringing you back to reality with that indignant look on her face.

A moment of silence befell the chamber as all the attention was focused on you, awaiting your reaction. You tried to think of a response, trying to recall what they were talking about. Eventually, you came up with nothing and were unable to think of an excuse.

"I'm sorry, sir what were we talking about?" You asked. The crowd yelled in uproar, unconvinced that you didn't know about your focus.

A blade suddenly appeared in front of you, almost slicing your neck, with its owner, Raiden Ei, on your right. "I would suggest you listen more carefully, heretic. Though their grace wants you alive, she has said nothing about harming you." Ei says, her voice full of venom. "Her word is eternal, while you're damned to the pages of history."

"Enough Raiden." The Imposter said, calling the Electro Archon back. Ei shot one final glare at you before returning to the imposter's side.

"You know, for someone who has gone through the abyss and back, you seem to be as defiant, like you're proud of your transgressions when I'm offering you a chance of redemption." The imposter monologues, getting your attention. How did she know about where you've been.

"I wonder," She continues. "If i brought you here before you were sentenced, would you be as high and mighty as you act, usurper?"

Silence is your response. 'Sentence? What does she mean by before?' You wonder, caution and anger rising at what she's implying. "What are you talking about?" You ask. The crowd gasps before more talking comes from them. 'Drama queens.' You think before focusing on "you".

"We both know what I'm talking about, but it seems I may have to remind you, demon." She says, her tone full of venom before taking a deep breath before telling her story.

"Long ago, shortly after I reascended into Celestia, you went ahead and appeared at the tree of Imursul, altering its knowledge so that you would descend in my place instead. Luckily, I found the change and once I descended, I made some, adjustments to yours, giving you some, "detours", before your audience with me." She says, with a smile appearing on her face.

The color starts to leave your face, before it returns, flooded by red rage. All of this, over you claiming to be someone that you didn't know exists, and the result was you put into hell over and over again.

"All of that didn't have to happen had you not sought to rule. That is the only way this could've been avoided."

A million thoughts run through your mind. All centered on making this bitch suffer. But deep in your mind, one thing always comes up.

You only got one shot at this. Take her out, and this eternal nightmare is over. No more hells, no more dying over and over.

And so, steeling your resolve, and a plan in mind, you take a deep breath, before devoiding your face and voice of emotion. Though you had no weapons on you, you were unsure of how else to push through.

"I finally get it." You say, your head facing the floor.

The crowd starts murmuring, eager to see what would happen, how you would confess, and your punishment that they'd see.

"Oh? And what would that be?" She asks, amused.

"You're not the benevolent goddess that gave life to Teyvat, rather your the primordial sin!" You yell at her, shooting your head up and staring directly into her eyes.

Uproar comes from the crowd, with a wave of disapproval and rage coming from them.

The archons and Neuvillette have varying reactions.

Zhongli and Ei look ready to tear you apart while internally hurting on the inside, seemingly trying to reject your words.

Venti has a stone face but you can sense a tone of sadness in him.

Nahida has a smirk appear in hear face before returning it to an emotionless one.

Neuvillette seems to have taken a deep breath while cooling his emotions, making him unreadable and unsure if he feels rage or sadness.

Mavuika meanwhile, showed a determined look, liking the prospect of a fight, but her eyes seem to betray her body's ideals, with tears rising in her eyes.

The Tsaritsa's face showed that of anger while her eyes agreed with you, semmingly longing to stand beside you.

At least, that's what you hoped they were thinking. For in truth, you had no idea on their internal stuggles since this "creator" was thrown into the picture.

"Deny it all you want, you know it's true!" You yell, stoking the flames. "Every tragedy that has occurred, she's been responsible for! The Archon War! The monsters of the world! Khaenr'iah! All of it was preventable!" You yell, eyeing the archons to see who'd react first.

"But nooo. She had to make you all suffer to determine your "devotion", and failed as a cre-!"

Unable to bear it, EI went ahead and tried to strike you down while Zhongli trying to crush you where you stood. In a second, you pulled on your arm chains hard, catching the guards off as you had the chains take your necks place for the chopping block.

As they were cut, you felt electricity course into your veins from the chains electrifying you and those that held your leg chains, in which you saw them let go of your leg chains.

Looking up to see the falling meteor, you jumped ahead, avoiding the meteor, but your chains were caught in its impact zone.

Seeing this, you tilted your feet and wrists for them to come off easier. Though both hurt,and you likely sprained a few of your toe and finger bones, you were now free from being held back, now able to pursue the look-alike.

"Jackpot." You say, sporting a malevolent smile as you look at your doppelganger in the eyes.

The imposter, horrified, started getting up. "K-Kill her!" She yelled. "Everyone, kill her! Don't let her get close to me!" She said, descending the throne.

Following those words, the entire room mobilized. All there began to climb out of their seats and rush to you, with the guards there leading the way. All of the archons and Neuvillette besides the Tsaritsa, Nahida, and Venti were moving to kill you, with them beside Nahida escorting your look-alike who was leaving the room. The youngest archon, seemingly slipping off and going elsewhere.

Wasting no time, you run after the imposter, juking out arrows, evading melee stikes from various weapons, and having others take the fall for elemental attacks, all the while closing the distance.

You felt electricity charging up from behind you, sensing EI likely gonna try to decapitate you again. Ahead of you, Zhongli is rushing you, spear in hand, with various metals charging up the spear.

Rushing to Zhongli, you waited for Ei to be near you as Zhongli closed the distance too. Once both were near, you jumped out of the way, having their blades connect and shock both you and those nearby, slightly burning you but giving you a clear pathway to the imposter.

"Get back here you coward!" You yell, nearing her, only to see Mauvkia appear on your left, with her about to punch into your gut, no way to dodge it.

Seeing no other options, you use your left arm to take the impact of the punch, expecting it to be dislocated or broken, only for something to appear in a flash of light, taking the impact.

Being sent back, you then find something in your right hand as you're flying across the chamber before using it to halt launch by striking it into the ground.

Once you've come to a stop, you look at what's in your hands, only to be struck by an all too familiar feeling of recent nostalgia.

In your right hand resides a sword that seemed to glow of light, likely from Lothric Castle from one of the three kingdoms. In your left was a shield originating from Boletaria.

A smile appeared on your face, taking in your weapons, as something in the back of your mind told you these weren't your only ones.

Looking at your attackers, you didn't know if this was either the end or a new beginning to your hell, but this just got a lot more familiar. And you preferred your comfort zone, especially in times like this.

"Let's get a little crazy." You say, tightening your shield's strap, rushing into the oncoming of attackers, determined to carve your way through them to your look alike.

Rushing at the attackers, you roll under one, parrying a second into the third, and dodging several other attacks.

Feeling a sharp pain move across your right elbow, you see a bullet pass by you, coming from your elbow, looking back, you see the assailant being Navia, who shot at you again.

Dodging it, you then feel your shield changing, with you feeling a trigger going into your hands. Without a second thought, you pull it, hearing something fire at Navia, before seeing that she was hit in the right arm before being surrounded by several other foes.

Glimpsing at what you pulled, you realize that it's a blunderbuss, one that you used in Yharnim.

But it's only for a moment before you're under attack again with you swapping your blunderbuss back to your shield and having it block another strike. Looking back to where the imposter went, you begin running there, only to be unable to move, under attack on all sides.

Parrying Jean's thrust before blocking Diluc's heavy slash behind you, and then dodging out of the way of Candace impaling you, you twirled once, to block Jean's next attack, when she and those close to you suddenly got forced back by something.

Looking down, you noticed a projection of a dragon's tail on you, reminiscent of those used by the crucible knights that you fought in the lands between.

Looking up, you noticed more foes coming for your head on all sides. Twirling again, you see a greatly longer tail smashing into your more of your attackers, throwing them off of their feet.

Looking back to where your imposter ran off to, you ran over those you used to idolize while dodging the incoming projectiles from those still up and rushing you.

Nearing the doorway, something tells you of an incoming attack moving fast. Sensing it, you turn to it with your shield raised, only for a ray of continuous water to hit against your shield.

Looking above the shield, you see the aggressor being Neuvillette, blasting you with water before yelling "Now!", to someone if out your view.

Suddenly, an arrow of electro was shot into the water spout, with it moving up the spout as Neuvillette endured the electro energy affecting him.

In an attempt to lessen the damage, you drop your sword, but you would do something that you didn't know was possible, for you only saw it done by only a handful of foes.

Reaching out to the arrow before it hits your shield, you somehow manage to grab it, stunning Neuvillette and those that were nearby.

Looking back at Neuvillette, you squeeze the arrow, golden electricity now coursing through the arrow which now has taken the form of a lightning bolt 'Just like Radagon' You think, recalling the Second Elden Lord.

Twirling the arrow, you can't help but recall the first time you saw him use that. It was a shocker, seeing him be able to do that. Then again, you also did recall some other foes in the other worlds.

And suddenly, you find yourself as Radagon, and in-front of you stood a single tarnished. Their gender unidentifiable, and face masked.

You know not of whether this is a new reality made by the imposter, another power that is seemingly awakening, or if this is some mental illusion. In your right hand was the lightning bolt that he(or she? He was basically Marika) held. Aiming the lightning bolt at the Tarnished, you aim it at them, seemingly able to set the charge of the lightning bolt to incapacitate, and hurl it.

When it hit, the sound of a thousand screams hit, with the Tarnished collapsing, ending the vision. Looking around, all that were in the chamber had collapsed, with them all in various states of pain, but not dead.

Despite what they've done, you still feel remorse for them. For not only is the pain all to familiar to you, but some of them still are the characters that you adored back on Earth.

A sudden head ache emerges, and you grasp your head, unsure of where it came from as you try to bring it down, taking you down memory lane.

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

The place could be best described as a void, with the only entrance in here sealed. You wore an armor set with a helmet that didn't have a face covering. In each hand resides a scimitar that you found during your travels.

Each scimitar had its own ash of war, special skills that could be applied to your weapons. Your right one caused blood loss after continuous hits as well as attack enemies in a short range of you while your left dealt frost damage.

You had gotten this modified set idea from a well known Tarnished who was basically nude, with him only having cloth covering his privates and a pot on his head for some reason. Despite this, he was a natural killer, slaughtering great foes and shard barrers with ease.

In front of you stood Radagon, the second Elden Lord. He had grayish cracked skin while still sporting healthy red hair, his chest bare besides the emblem of the Elden ring. All he wore were faded pants from what you saw. In his right hand, he held a golden hammer, the same one in which Queen Marika, or himself (You still questioned why she made a gendered clone of herself) used to shatter the Elden Ring untold time ago.

Running up to him, you waited for him to take the bait and as he swung his hammer down, you dodged out of the way, and began to stab into his side, trying to cut a way into his skin and freeze his blood, assuming there was any.

You managed to get a few hits in before being hit by Radagon, his hammer throwing you back a couple of feet. Wincing from the pain as you got up, you noticed how there seemed to be a hole in his skin connecting to something.

Forming a plan, you stored your left scimitar away and swapped it out for a staff. You sent 3 fireballs before rushing Lord Radagon, intending to use it as cover for you to rush up to him.

As the trio were launched, you ran to him, swapping your staff back for your scimitar.

As the fireballs neared the old Elden Lord, he did something you didn't know was possible. Using his hammer, he hit two of the fireballs back towards you before grabbing the third one and doing something to it.

Focusing on the incoming projectiles, you dodged out of the way of the first fireball before trying and failing to do what Radagon did to the second one with your scimitar, taking the heat to your face and gear, blocking your line of sight.

'Fucking Hell,' You thought, coughing through the smoke, waving your hand to clear it. 'Seems that one of the perks of being a god is that you get to do that sort of shit with your bare hands..'

Your thoughts ran cold as the smoke cleared. Radagon had seemed to convert the third fireball into a thunderbolt, which he now held in his bare hands and was aiming it at you.

As Radagon threw it at you, you dodged out of the way, only for the lightning bolt to explode upon nearing you where it exploded, electrocuting and burning your body, your nerves being fried and Arteries bursting, followed with your body hitting the cool, empty void.

As death's grasp covers you in its all too familiar embrace, memories of your life up to now hit you. From your earliest memories, to your awakening in Boletaria, to lighting the flame in the first kingdom, putting it out in the third, and then your duel with Gerhman to try and let him finally rest in the waking world, were some of the memories that filled your mind.

As you recalled the most recent battles with Radagon, you came to a conclusion upon recalling this duel.

'Attempt 89 failed. gonna need a new strategy... again'.

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

Removing your hand from your head, you take a moment of thought when recalling that memory. 'Damn, that seriously caught me off guard. Then again, I should've expected that since they were a...'

Your thoughts shift back to the crowd ahead of you. Most of those that are there are on the ground, incapacitated but alive, you're somehow able to tell.

Those that are getting up, mainly those who have lived the longest, seem to have been greatly shaken by something. Almost as if they had a glimpse with death.

Being snapped back from your thoughts, you run into the hallway that the imposter ran into, not giving mind to those that are ahead of you.

'She cannot get away!' You think, running into a hallway. You hear footsteps ahead of you, thoroughly far away.

Needing to close the distance, you check your pockets for something, uncaring if it worked or not, when you pulled out a gold, crescent shaped whistle. 'Jackpot!' You think, blowing into it.

Beneath you, a horse that you've traveled across both the lands between and the land of shadows emerged. Torrent.

A gift from the finger maiden Melina, he's proven to be of great use in both traveling the vast distances of the lands between and fighting foes of great renown.

Hitting the reins, torrent rushed forward, speeding down the hallway. You didn't know where this imposter was going, but you couldn't let her get away.

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

Nearing them, bitter chilling winds nip at you and torrent before they begin to let up. However, there are several flights of stairs that seem to be turning right and down constantly.

At the bottom of the stairs was the imposter with Venti and the Tsaritsa accompanying her as they ran off the stairs and deeper into the last floor.

Having a bad experience with Torrent and deep falls, you decide to continue on foot, disembarking from Torrent and sending him back.

Jumping down from the top floor, you grabbed the ledge of one of the staircases, before releasing it to grab another. After repeating this process for a while, you managed to get onto the last floor.

In front of you was them, with the imposter smack down in the middle. A bit of a distance away, but still reachable. Taking a deep breath, you continued your pursuit, running after them.

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

Hearing your footsteps, the imposter looked back, her eyes widening as you drew near, running faster with you right behind.

No matter how far she ran, walls of Dendro kept appearing at every potential exit, all of them too thick that they wouldn't have it opened by the time you're upon them.

Every time the Tsaritsa unleased great glaciers at either the imposter or Venti used the winds the to make great barriers to block you using anemo, you would either melt the ice sent to you, or harness the winds to act in your favor. And that was before the elements betrayed them.

As you're nearing her, you're suddenly lifted into the air and pulled back. For a moment, you think that its Venti getting the wind to pull you out.

However, in the next moment your sword is changing into a familiar lance that belonged to the tail's owner, as well as their golden wings.

As if on instinct, you grab the blade with both hands, and launch yourself at the imposter.

Hearing great wings descend toward her, she takes another look, her eyes widening before grabbing Venti, having him take her place as your blade connected into the archon's skin.

As the blade connected, another vision occurred. This time, you were a crucible knight. In front, three separate warriors, tarnished, you presumed, with one of them impaled by your lance on the ground.

They each seemed to have varying reactions of horror, mainly the one who was Infront of the impaled tarnished.

Before you could register who else was there or what they could be wielding, you were sent back to the present, with Venti impaled, and your imposter look alike baring the same terrified look as the fearful tarnished in the vision.

Needing the blade, you raised it and kick Venti off. You then turn your attention to the other two, with the Tsaritsa being used as a human shield.

"Well don't just gawk there!" The imposter told the Tsaritsa, "Do something!" But when it looked like she was, voices began to invade her mind.

She grabbed her head and lowered it in pain. Her mind, assaulted by many voices. "Damn them all", "Repeat history", "Burn", "Heretic", few of the things she heard.

Visions begin to come and go like grains of sand in a dust storm. Images of Khaenri'ah being destroyed, before being replaced by Snezhnaya. The people being turned into great beasts, where death wasn't possible for their souls to rest.

Looking for ways to distract herself, she turned to the "creator", only to realize that she'd fallen silent, her face full of fear; and growing heat, both holy and unholy, familiar and not, was coming from you.

Turning her head to face you, she saw not a head, but a great void in the center of where your head resided. Surrounding this void was many smaller flames constantly rising from the void before vanishing.

"Give me the imposter," Your voice, supported by many, said. "And that fate, and many others like it, will cease." They said, before more images hit her, though noticeably lighter in effect than before.

Deciding to fold, she grabbed the imposter, and before the false creator could react, the Tsaritsa threw her to you, with you catching her by the neck.

"Good". They told her, before receding, with a wall that combined dendro, cryo, and geo rose, surrounding you two before eventually being fully covered. The imposter looked at her, face full of rage and fear, reaching out to her before she was no longer visible.

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

Venti approached the Tsaritsa, having gotten up while holding where his wound was, which had stopped bleeding, but the aches still resided.

"Thank you, for doing what was needed." Venti said, as the other archons and Neuvillette arrived.

"It always feels like I have for us all." She says, looking at the arriving group

"While your forms and aftershocks could've been a bit more...adept, the path of justice is walked by those who dare." Neuvillette says, looking at the others.

"While true, this imposter shall know what their judgement is...and so shall we soon." Zhongli says in a somber mood, looking at the elemental wall.

A moment of silence befalls them before a muffled scream is heard from the wall, likely belong to the imposter.

"Seems that her judgement has begun." EI says. "It seems so." Nahida replies. "However, if Teyvat still exists as we know it, our fates may not be what we'll have to worry about the most." She says, all eyes now on her.

"How so?" Mavuika asks, crossing her arms.

"Earlier today, I was viewing the creator's memories by the Imursul. More specifically, what they went through before arriving in Teyvat." Nahida says, ignoring the other's gasps at her action.

"And what I saw..." She stops for a moment, recalling what you went through. "Would drive lesser beings insane."

"Explain." Ei says, glancing back to the dome, where the imposter that took your place was still screaming and begging for mercy, before looking back at Nahida.

"The memories that she had endured are all to vivid in detail. These go from her first descent into Teyvat, to today. However, the most common ones that she has most commonly gone through..." Nahida pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Are that of her dying, over and over."

"What!!??" They yell, shock and worry evident in their voices. For if this true, how much has changed about the grace they knew from before. and what would she think about them?

"These deaths seem to be much like Teyvat's ending of a life, with her viewing the memories that she experienced over her lifetime as her consciousness leaves her body, signified by a the feeling of being cold."

"However," Nahida says, taking a deep breath before continuing, "Unlike our world where they'd ascend to Celestia, they awake at seemingly designated safe spots, with them awakening where their body ended up when they have yet to reach one of these areas."

The group listened on in silent horror as they process what they're hearing. The screams from before seem to have been reduced to barely audible wimpers, often being interupted by a banging from the other side.

"What's worse," Nahida continues, shocking the divinity there at how it could get worse. "Is that when it looks like her journey in a world is done, it starts all over again, with the mere weapons she held when she started, and needed to complete every single of what she calls endings, different fates for the world she finds herself in, before being allowed to travel into a different one."

The silence was deafening. How much had the primordial mother change due to this false judgement? And what would happen to them? Though they weren't worthy of mercy, they felt the need to help her heal. Even if it's the sake for those who're still in her light.

Hostile and malevolent energy, which could only be described as unholy, suddenly began to emit from the wall, the imposter's scream's greatly rising. "P-Please! I B-beg of y-you! Spa-Spare me, and I'll do wh-what ever you want! N-Not a S-Second t-thought.!" She yells, her voice rising in desperation. "J-J-Ju- Just please, don't do th-AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

The imposter's screams crescendo as unholy energy surges through their veins. Great chains of lightning are shot throughout the dome. highlighting a brutal sight. Shock was visible on their faces, but not from what you were doing, but rather how.

You, once merciful and forgiving, was using a weapon, who's only purpose was to damn those who've committed the worst of sins. It was considered sacrilege in the old age to spread knowledge about this blade's existence.

To everyone there, both by the lightning and sensing, they saw many appendages of various types, hands, claws, tentacles, and many more indescribable, clawing at the imposter from some sort of abyssal like circle underneath them. While her body was being pulled back by the limbs, they felt that the blade was pulling something out from the body.

As the scene unfolds, the archons look at each other, worried about not only their fates, but those that dwell in Teyvat. "Are the people aware, of who the true creator is?" The Tsaritsa asks, looking at the divinity there. "They are." Mauvika answers, with the Ei and Zhongli confirming it. "The winds have told me that the people are aware, and are fervently praying for mercy while repenting. Though, some are still in denial about the truth." Venti says with a somber look.

Before they could continue, the imposter's pleas went silent, followed by a muffled thud that originated from the dome. Before anyone could react, the dome began to melt, with vines and roots retracting and the rocks collapsing.

"Then lets pray it's enough in the end, and the deniers don't damn us all." Neuvillette says, getting on his knees, followed by the archons doing the same.

When the dome receded, those there looked in fear at you and what held.

In your left hand, you held a shield of pure light Infront of you, with it radiating of holy energy. That alone would've signified your identity as someone holy. But what you held in your right signified you position.

You held a sword which is only known as "The One That Damns". Across the blade's steel resides the faces of those that had been damned as well. From the bottom to the but of the blade, the steel was replaced with an unknown metal. In the center resided three small humanoid skulls in which a horn was on the center of each of them.

Starting from the top section of the highest skull going down was two metalic horns. At the connection point of a regular blade and hilt was face a face infamous to all. That of the first sinner, who now bore the horns of betrayal now metallic, and a ring with arrows going in all lateral directions, signifying how their greed consumed the world many centuries ago.

Due to how volatile the blade's energies were and its ability to corrupt, only the true creator, you, could wield it without being either absorbed into it or lost in it's corrupting influence.

Your face bore that of cautioned aggression, similar to that of a cornered monster, ready to do anything to survive. Your head had about returned back to normal, but the Tsaritca noticed in your eyes was the same void of fire in your irises that consumed your head when you went into that dome with the imposter.

From their point of view, a black substance was oozing out of the imposter's mouth, connecting to the floor. The back of their skull was shattered, with bits of flesh and bones all across where the dome was, with the abyssal circle now gone.

Mortal blood oozed from various stab wounds and cuts all across her body, with some bones visible from their perspective. But at the center of her body was unholy energy and the smell of smoke emitting from it, likely the result of The One which damns.

Her lower body is faring around as well as the upper body is, with wounds and broken bones in her.

The silks and fabrics that made up her dress were torn in your relentless strikes, jewelry thrown all across where the dome once was. Some in pieces, others still whole.

Tension was high between you and them as you waited to see if they'd rise and attack while they hoped that you would lower your weapons, and hear them.

After a while, Neuvillette spoke, taking the initiative. "Your grace. On behalf of the people of Teyvat...we're sorry." He says after a moment of consideration.

You don't know what to say. This seems to good to be true. The person you'd trust the most is Patches whenever you look over an edge, mainly because you've gotten used to him always kicking you off of it just because he can.

He did seem to change his intentions by the time you went to fight Mohg as he claims, due to the dangers that resided within Volcano manor.

Yet, these were the people who's story you've come to know, with their behavior fueled by devotion to this, god. One that sought to impersonate you. Which implied a lot, if they were that desperate.

Half an hour would pass, with it feeling like eternity to them, before you came to a conclusion on their judgement and spoke again.

"In time uncountable for me, as a result of the imposter", you say, gesturing to the imposter's body. "I descended into a decayed kingdom known as Boletaria, which saw me cleanse the land of its demonic occupiers, with nothing but the weapons I found and wits."

Zhongli looks like he wants to say something, but doesn't under your wary glare as you take a deep breath.

"I would've hoped that this led to my salvation, but it seems that the heretic had other plans. For after I purged Boletaria of the damned and left it, I was sent back to the beginning of my journey, with every change I made having the same result besides one.

The group held their breath, feeling worry and concern grow on their backs.

You take a deep breath. This part wasn't something you were fond of, regardless of the world. But it was your only way out.

"The only way out of that world, was by giving into sin." You finish, looking your head down.

The archons and Neuvillette's faces widened in shock at your admission. What sin did you commit to escape, what degree of severity did it hold?

"This, was merely the beginning," you continue on, ignoring their silent reactions. "of what I would have to do. For Boletaria was the first of seven other worlds that I would inevitably be forced to decide the fate of, and being forced to see all of them in each world."

"But now that I am free of that fate, it is my time to heal both me," you say, pointing to yourself. "And you." You finish, pointing to them. "Before my departure into Boletaria, from what I've been made know of, you felt my presence via the traveler at first and then in you, yes?" You ask, with them nodding in confirmation.

"To varying degrees do I know about each of your situations and the history of this world. But one thing remains the same. Celestia has been negligent for too long. If they're unable to justify this properly...," You pause, taking a somber tone. "Their reign is over." You finish, looking at them.

The group starts to worry about the future. The Tsaritsa worries about what's to be released in the future. By both Celestia and you, with the memory of world burning still fresh in her mind, with the others in similar states of worry.

"You and the rest of Teyvat, however, will be spared from the ensuing war that would come should they fail to explain." You reassure them, breaking them out of their thoughts.

"From what I've seen through the winds of freedom," you, turning towards Venti, with the said archon looking up at you. "Celestia has held back valuable information relating to your world, going to brutal measures to ensure that this knowledge was hidden."

"Situations like this of varying degrees are occurring all across Teyvat, and they don't react even when nations collapse due to their failures!" You yell, startling the group.

You take a deep breath, regaining your cool. "As such, I have an offer for you and your nations, as a means of reconciliation. for you." You say.

They look surprised as expected. A chance to repent for their sins? This early? There had to be some trick.

"I ask for each of you to rise, and join me in healing this world." You say, gesturing for each of them to rise. "For too long have the people of Teyvat been neglected and abused, with you and it's people working to ensure your continued survival."

"The path of healing for us both will be beneficial and long, but I hope that in the end," you continue, with the archons and Neuvillette rising, standing up right, "that we will prosper to fix a broken dream."

As you walked out of the chapel, surrounded by the divine that walk the world and your mortal acolytes, you looked up to the rising clear night sky, a light smile appearing on your face.

For now, at least, the constant suffering that you've grown used to is over. Though the potential war with Celestia is of concern to you, you push it out of your mind for now.

For how long have they been fighting their struggles, for them to desperatly fight for a look a-like of you, that only made demand after demand, seeking to enrich herself?

So many questions, but you will find them. Though the path will be long, you will keep them safe in the end, no matter the cost.

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Hey readers, sorry for not posting in a while. This idea was given to me by @ghrgrsfdesfrfg when they were looking for a separate SAGAU fic. I'm going to be releasing 2 new polls soon. The first being the poll from earlier with better descriptions of these stories, and the second being if I should write stories for the opposite gender if I specify the reader being male or female.

[goldsbitch]

Just don't talk--------

-you might say something that hurts.

p10 to Just don't talk

summary: Enemies to lovers on steroids. The PR teams strike again.

Y/N was unusually giddy while doing interviews on the grid that day. It was hard to be nervous when in the corner of her eye she saw Lando, in his usual glorious unbothered style, seemingly more confident than he'd been the past few weeks.

Smiles shared in secret, both of them being lifted up by enormous amount of butterflies. Yet they both tried their best to keep busy in order to push off their inevitable "what are we" talk.

She was more than sure what she wanted to be to him. But the thought of him not being willing to make the lead was a scary one - so let's just ignore it and keep thinking about his tongue on her neck. And Lando? He was doing exactly the same. Both of them blissfully unaware that their crush has started to become impossible to hide.

//

"Y/N, what do you think about the car on this track? Will you be competetive enough for a podium?" was a simple and boring question that Y/N tried to answer in a creative way, but nothing was coming to her mind. With a great smile, she replied: "Yeah, I have a pretty good feeling that things are turning out for good."

Lando was "not so accidentally" passing by at that exact moment, deliberately taking the rout where he would have to walk past her, because his body just wanted to be near her at any point possible. His school boy instinct kicked in and in the same way as a five-year old boy would pull his crushes hair, he snatched Y/N team cap of her head gracefully in order to tease her.

"Hey!" she screamed in the middle of listening to another question from the interviewer and turned around, knowing well who that was, as she watched him approaching before. A small amused smile escaped her, it was impossible to stop it. Same for Lando.

"Oh, hello, Lando," the interviewer acknowledged him, hoping for some good viral content.

"Hey," was his speedy response, probably not ever trying to hide his own amusement.

Y/N tried to keep it cool and look at his lips. "Give it back, Lando." Nope, she failed at keeping her smile in.

"You know where to pick it up, honey," he said simply, winked and said goodbye to the interviewer as he walked away. Y/N's stomach dropped at how obvious he was with his flirting in public and how impossible she found it to keep herself together. She took a moment before resuming, internally fuming. She was happy and mortified at the same time.

"Well," Y/N said as she turned back to her interview. "Where were we?" And there it was - a fatal smile that would cost her in the future.

The interviewer was full on a mission to not let that go. "I see the mood has shifted between you two, has the previous feud passed now?"

"I guess you could say that, yes," she replied, slowly pulling herself back, heart still beating like after running a marathon.

"Do you guys spend time together off the track? Has that maybe helped?" How the fuck was she supposed to answer that?

Not so confidently, she pulled out a cliché line in order to save her. "We do our talking on the track." It was technically not a lie - what they did in their spare time was definitely not limited to talking.

"I see," the interviewer said, not satisfied with her answer.

"I'd love to chat, but my team is calling," he pointed somewhere off camera, somewhere where there definitely was not someone from her team pointing at her. She excused herself and strolled away, in the other way that Lando went, as quickly as possible.

Yes, she did. Oh god, it was becoming unbearable. How was he so infuriating? How can one manage to be so....ugh!!

The day passed by in a blur of meetings, interviews and fan meet and greets. Since their "joint" interview was live though, it took only few hours for the first edits to appear on social media, hashtags getting created and the two of them going viral once again. It was all a bit overwhelming, Y/N sat there and secretly watched every single edit she came by. There is one thing to fantasize secretly about your crush, another thing is when the whole seems to get on the same boat and romanticize the fuck out it. Was it making the whole thing more awkward? Probably, but Lando's and Y/N minds were too busy thinking about each other in order to take in the point of view of others. The whole grid became aware of the pair quickly becoming a meme.

Oscar limited himself to eye rolling only, as he was more than aware of what was going on.

Y/N was shocked to find Lando already sitting in with his and her team in one of the FIA's meeting rooms. The fact that this was happening outside of their team premise should have been a clear sign - they are being called into the same meeting. Nowhere to hide now.

Lando was sitting there, casually cramped up in a chair in an anatomically impossible position, legs twisted all around. "Can't he not sit like a normal person for once?" was Y/N first thought. The reason he sat like that was to prevent himself from foot tapping the whole building down. Acting cool and innocent, that was his strategy. He was sure they'll tell him to tone it down, not to bother Y/N publicly, he'll just nod at everything they say and then go finally cum all over her chest once again, just to prove to her that she is his. Not a hard task. He glanced at her innocently as she stepped in, doing a real bad job at hiding her shock. He rolled his eyes and smirked. This girl was so innocently cute. His own comms team shot him a warning look, so he just proceeded to stare into the ground. Y/n had very little time to get her strategy ready, cursing herself for not discussing this with Lando prior to this.

"Thank you both for coming on such a short notice," was how Lando's team opened the conversation with. You could cut the tension in the room with a butter knife.

"As you're both aware, we have tried several strategies in the past in order to get your image out in the best light as possible."

Y/N let out a laugh which she could not contain in, to which Lando shot her a surprised, horrified and slightly amused look. Unbelievable.

"Continue, please. I am listening," he said, just to spite her.

"Thank you. Please guys, let's keep this civil and adult," this time her team stepped in to put her down. Lando could not remember having this much fun.

"To continue what my colleague started to say, lots of several approaches which did not bring the ideal results. And with today's development, we feel like this is another time for us to step in. You're both faces of prestigious brands and the teams rely on you being likable characters. Am I right?"

Lando nodded, as if he was lying about understanding a new topic in a math lesson - maybe little too much. Y/N just bit her lip and remained silent.

This whole thing was so bizarre, like being caught for stealing a candy bar while having a stolen gold necklace in your pocket.

"What would you suggest?" Lando asked and Y/N doubted anyone in the room was fooled by his act and must have seen though him. He was obviously having the time of his life. At this rate she would have a hole in her lower lip if she would keep biting it down this was.

"I'm glad you're asking, Lando, and hope you'll be able to cooperate."

"You can count on my sincere involvement in your strategy," he stated seriously and stared at Y/N comms team. His own team knew what was up with his attitude but decided not to call him out just yet.

Y/N glanced at the papers resembling a contact on the table. This is it, she thought, the no contact and no involvement agreement. They're going to stop them from talking to each other in public? Is that even allowed?

His's comms manager took a deep breath. "The numbers on all our socials have spiked up greatly since your interaction became of a positive nature. What we've seen today - that will make our sponsors more than happy."

Lando was quicker than Y/N to connect the dots. His mood changed drastically within seconds and he finally sat up straight.

"No. Not a chance," he burned his team with his hard stare.

"Lando, please, let us finish."

He was not having that. "I know what you're going to say and no, you can't just order us to do that."

"Nobody is ordering you to do anything. We're simply...Putting this on the table.

"Forget that, no way in hell am I ever going to agree with this," he said, pointing at the contracts lying on the table. The room went silent for few seconds.

"I'm sorry, what are we talking about here?" asked Y/N, not really having the dots connected just yet. Lando briefly forgot that she was in the room, suddenly regretting his quick dismissal. But he was not the one to be forced into anything like this. Better him having it break to her then them, right?

This time he was the one to take a deep breath and while speaking to Y/N, he still stared at the comms teams. "They want us to start fake dating for PR." He was hoping he got it wrong. But the silence on the other side of the table just proved him right.

This came as a shock to her. Was this their masterplan? Did they really have to meddle all the fucking time? "I...I didn't think these things actually happened in real world," she stated, honestly.

Why couldn't these two just get a minute to talk among themselves? Y/N's mind was once again stuck in a rut because of Lando Norris existing at the same time as she did. Million questions on her mind, but the biggest one - why was it such a hard and obvious no from him? He did not even consider it. This could have been an easy escape for them.

"What would that look like exactly?" she asked, wrapping her head around it.

She received smiles from the team, them being happy that she was seemingly somewhat on board. "Well, we would set a clear timeline with a deadline and a scheduled break up, set up a social media strategy, you'd accompany each other on social event and the PDA would be very clearly stated upon the mutual agreement between you and your lawyers. Involvement of other people around you would always be discussed prior and clear communication is key. We do not want to make anyone feel uncomfortable. Of course, an NDA is part of this agreement."

It was impossible to look at him just yet. Her head was spinning. She was on the verge of crying and had to somehow hold herself together in front of all those people. She had to get out fast, like fast fast. She had her answer. He did not like her in the same way she liked him.

"Excuse me for a moment, I feel sick," she said and swiftly got up, nearly tripping over her own feet as she sprinted out.

part 11

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