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ilovemilestellersmoustache · 2 months ago

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The Tortured Poets Department

Charlie Dalton x Reader

Summary: You and Charlie were always more than just friends too bad Charlies too scared to admit it

Word Count: 9K

The cave loomed before her, its entrance bathed in soft shadows, while faint candlelight flickered from deep within. Y/N paused at the threshold, the cool night air brushing against her skin. The sounds of voices—laughter, snippets of poetry, and the occasional hushed murmur—floated out to her like a familiar melody. This place had always been her refuge, ever since Neil Perry had taken the chance and brought her into the fold. It wasn’t her school, and the legacy wasn’t hers to claim, but it didn’t matter. The poets had welcomed her as one of their own, and the cave had become her home in ways she hadn’t expected.

She shifted her weight, her fingers lightly brushing the rough surface of the stone. Inside, the group’s energy ebbed and flowed, alive with creativity and rebellion, each voice adding its own spark to the mix. This wasn’t just a gathering; it was freedom—the kind of freedom she could never find elsewhere. The words spoken here carried weight, every verse and line a quiet act of defiance against the world that tried to confine them.

And yet, as much as the society itself meant to her, there was one reason she couldn’t stay away. Charlie Dalton. He was the storm in this quiet sanctuary, the wild streak in the poetry, and the wildfire she could never ignore. His laughter rang out now, sharp and unrestrained, a sound that seemed to carry all the mischief and thrill he lived for. It sent a shiver through her, one that was as much anticipation as it was nervous energy.

Charlie had always been different. Where the others found solace in the safety of their words, he turned his into challenges. He pushed boundaries, dared authority, and refused to let anyone dictate who he should be. And yet, beneath that wild energy, there was something else—a passion, a brilliance, and a vulnerability he rarely showed. It was that combination that had drawn her in from the beginning, that kept her coming back to the cave night after night.

Her eyes scanned the group as she stepped inside, the soft glow of candlelight illuminating familiar faces. They turned to greet her with warm smiles and knowing glances, but her focus was already fixed. She found him easily—Charlie always had a way of standing out, even in the dim light. He sat perched on a rock near the back, his unruly hair catching the flicker of the candles as he gestured animatedly, no doubt telling a story or reciting a verse.

He noticed her almost instantly, his grin widening as their eyes met. That grin—so full of life, so full of trouble—sent her pulse racing. For all his chaos, for all the ways he drove her mad with his recklessness, Charlie Dalton had a gravity she couldn’t escape. And she didn’t want to. With his untamed energy and mischievous grin, had a way of drawing her in like no one else ever could. He was a wildfire, dangerous and beautiful, and she couldn’t help but get burned.

Y/N sank into her usual spot, the cold, uneven surface of the rock grounding her as Knox animatedly recounted the details of his latest victory: finally winning over Chris. His enthusiasm was infectious, and the group roared their approval, clapping him on the back and offering exaggerated toasts to his triumph. Y/N joined in with a soft smile, genuinely happy for him, but the ache in her chest persisted—a familiar weight she could never quite shake in moments like this.

Her eyes drifted across the flickering circle, landing on Charlie. He was sprawled out on his back, one arm tucked behind his head and the other holding a cigarette loosely between his fingers. The lazy grin on his face was pure Charlie—reckless, confident, and entirely at ease, like he had the world in the palm of his hand. He caught her staring and winked, a quick, casual gesture that set her pulse racing and her stomach twisting into knots. How did he do that? How did he always make her feel like the only girl in the room, even when he wasn’t trying? Even when he was chasing someone else?

She averted her gaze, biting down on the corner of her lip as Knox’s story came to an end. The group shifted seamlessly back to their poetry, the warm, familiar cadence of voices reading aloud by candlelight filling the cave once again. But no matter how she tried, Y/N couldn’t focus on the words. Her mind was elsewhere, drawn back to the boy across the circle—the boy who drove her mad in ways no one else could.

They weren’t together. Not officially, anyway. But sometimes, it felt like they were. The stolen glances, the late-night whispers, the way he sprawled across her lap during their quiet moments, tracing lazy patterns on her arm—it all blurred the lines. It was more than friendship, but less than certainty. And it was slowly tearing her apart.

Charlie was a flirt—always had been, probably always would be. His charm was magnetic, his boldness impossible to ignore. He’d flirt with anyone, and he made it look so effortless. It didn’t matter if it was a fleeting smile, a well-placed joke, or an offhand compliment—he always knew exactly what to say to leave people wanting more. Sometimes, that person was her. And sometimes, it wasn’t.

Her chest tightened at the thought, her smile faltering. Who else holds him like I do? she wondered bitterly. Who else deciphers the chaos behind his smirk, sees the cracks he hides so well? Who else knows him, if not me?

But knowing him wasn’t enough. Not when he turned those same grins and careless winks to anyone who crossed his path. Not when his attention, so intoxicating when it was hers, could so easily shift to someone else. It was a cruel game, one she wasn’t sure she wanted to keep playing—but one she couldn’t bring herself to quit.

The Summer Before, the memory came to her unbidden, vivid as if it had happened yesterday. Pulling her back to a warm August evening that felt like a lifetime ago. It was the last stretch of summer, the kind that tasted of freedom and endings all at once. The school year loomed just over the horizon, but for one fleeting day, none of it mattered.

She had spent the afternoon at the Dalton house, sprawled across Charlie’s bed as sunlight streamed through the half-drawn blinds, painting the room in a muted gold. The air was thick and lazy, and she’d made herself comfortable while he disappeared downstairs, claiming he needed to “liberate” something from his father’s liquor cabinet. His room was unmistakably his—a cluttered chaos of books, vinyl records, crumpled clothes, and scrawled notes on scraps of paper. It smelled faintly of cigarettes and cologne, a scent she could still recall with aching clarity.

When Charlie returned, triumphant and grinning, he carried two mismatched glasses and a bottle of whiskey. “The finest my old man has to offer,” he declared with a mock bow, pouring them each a generous measure. The whiskey burned her throat, making her cough and wince, but she drank it anyway, unwilling to let him see her flinch.

The hours passed in a haze of conversation and laughter. They dissected song lyrics like philosophers, debated poets like scholars, and mocked their own pretentiousness until they were doubled over with laughter.

“We’re not Patti Smith and Dylan Thomas, you know,” she teased, lying back against the pillows. Her fingers trailed absently over the worn quilt on his bed, the fabric soft and familiar under her touch. “This isn’t the Chelsea Hotel.”

Charlie snorted, settling beside her with a cigarette dangling from his lips. “We’re modern idiots,” he agreed, his voice warm and full of mischief. In his other hand, he clutched a half-eaten chocolate bar, and she watched as he absentmindedly alternated between taking a bite and flicking his lighter open and closed.

The afternoon melted into evening, the air cooling as the golden light gave way to a soft, dusky glow. Somewhere between their debates about the superiority of punk rock versus jazz and their shared musings about life’s absurdities, Charlie’s head found its way to her lap. She didn’t question it, didn’t hesitate, only smoothed his unruly hair with gentle fingers. His hair was soft, messier than usual, and tickled her skin when he shifted. He was unusually quiet now, his endless energy dimming as the day wore on.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and almost drowsy. The cigarette in his mouth bobbed slightly as he spoke, his words slurring just enough to reveal how tired he was. “You get me, you know that? Like, really get me.”

Her hand froze for a moment, mid-motion, as her heart stumbled in her chest. The simplicity of the statement caught her off guard. Charlie wasn’t one for heartfelt confessions, at least not ones that felt this raw, this real. She opened her mouth to respond, her mind scrambling for something to match the weight of his words, something that would let him know she felt the same. But before she could speak, his eyes slipped closed, the cigarette still loosely balanced between his fingers.

She eased it from his grasp and crushed it in the ashtray beside the bed, watching as his breathing evened out. His face was so different like this—peaceful, unguarded. Vulnerable in a way he rarely let anyone see. She stayed there for hours, running her fingers through his hair, memorizing every detail of the moment, knowing she’d carry it with her long after the summer faded.

That night became a part of her, etched into her memory like an old photograph—beautiful, bittersweet, and impossible to let go.

Sitting in the cave now, the air thick with candle smoke and murmured poetry, Y/N’s thoughts swirled like restless waves. She stared at the flickering light on the walls, trying to make sense of the ache in her chest. The cycle with Charlie—the stolen moments, the blurred lines, the lingering looks that promised everything but delivered nothing—was wearing her down. It felt like chasing shadows, reaching for something just beyond her grasp.

She’d thought about walking away more times than she could count. Maybe if she distanced herself, the pain of wanting more than he was willing to give would finally subside. Maybe the hollow ache that followed her home after nights like this would stop gnawing at her. The idea of pulling away, of reclaiming her peace, had a kind of seductive appeal. But just as quickly as the thought came, it unraveled, replaced by the fear of what that distance might mean—for her, for him, for whatever fragile connection they shared.

Her resolve had wavered countless times, but there was one moment that kept her tethered, one confession she hadn’t been able to forget. It had come from Meeks, of all people, on a night when the Dead Poets Society had celebrated a little too freely. She remembered the slurred edges of his words, the glassy look in his eyes as he leaned toward her, his sincerity cutting through the haze of whiskey and laughter.

“Charlie told me once,” Meeks had said, his voice low and unsteady, “if you ever left, he wouldn’t know what to do.”

The words had stunned her, slicing through her doubts like a blade. She’d pressed him for more, her pulse racing, but he’d only shrugged, as if it was the most obvious truth in the world. At the time, she’d dismissed it as drunken rambling, a loose thread of half-truths spun in the moment. But the memory had lingered, replaying itself in her mind over and over, as vivid and persistent as a song she couldn’t shake.

It had become an ember she couldn’t extinguish, no matter how much it hurt to keep it alive. It burned quietly in the back of her mind, a stubborn flicker of hope that refused to die. What if Meeks had been right? What if there was more to Charlie’s carelessness, his charm, his aloofness than she’d let herself believe? What if, behind the easy grins and bold declarations, he was just as lost as she was?

The possibility both thrilled and terrified her. Because if it was true, if there was something real beneath all the layers Charlie used to keep the world at bay, then leaving wouldn’t just be an escape. It would be a betrayal of something fragile, something she wasn’t sure either of them knew how to name. And if it wasn’t true? If she was clinging to a hope that didn’t exist? Then she’d only be prolonging the inevitable heartbreak.

The uncertainty was maddening, but still, she stayed. Still, she waited. Still, she burned.

The breaking point came a week later, during one of those evenings that felt deceptively ordinary. Charlie had invited her over, as he so often did, and they sat across from each other at the long, polished dining table, the soft clinking of silverware filling the spaces between their laughter. The Dalton house had always felt cold, more like a museum than a home, but Charlie’s presence had a way of softening the edges, making it bearable.

His parents barely acknowledged them, as usual. His father sat at the head of the table, eyes buried in a newspaper, while his mother moved in and out of the room, her focus elsewhere. It was always like this—a hollow kind of civility that Charlie seemed determined to fill with his wit and charm. Y/N had grown used to it, though it never stopped tugging at her heart. She knew how much he hated the emptiness of it all, even if he never said so outright.

They bantered easily, trading jokes and teasing each other like they always did. For a while, it was enough to keep her grounded, to remind her why she stayed, why she kept coming back even when it hurt. But then, in a moment so casual it felt almost unintentional, everything shifted.

Charlie reached beside her, his fingers brushing hers as he picked up her hand. His touch was light, almost absentminded, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Her breath caught as he toyed with the ring on her finger, sliding it off and holding it up to the light with a mock-critical eye.

“Nice ring,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing, though there was an edge of something else beneath it. Mischief, maybe, or something quieter, harder to define.

He slid the ring onto his own finger, grinning as he wiggled it in the air. “Think it suits me?” he asked, his tone light, though his gaze lingered on her in a way that made her stomach flip. Before she could answer, he pulled it off again and reached for her hand. This time, he slipped it back onto her finger, but not where it had been. Instead, he placed it on her left hand, on finger one reserved for promises neither of them had made.

Y/N froze, her heart lurching into her throat as she stared down at the ring. It gleamed faintly in the soft light, impossibly small but suddenly heavy. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she looked back up at Charlie, searching for some kind of explanation.

He didn’t offer one. Instead, he smirked, his thumb brushing lazily against her knuckles, the gesture so casual it felt almost dismissive. But his eyes… his eyes held something else entirely. A flicker of something she couldn’t name.

Her heart exploded in that moment, a chaotic mess of hope and despair that left her breathless. Did he even realize what he was doing to her? Did he have any idea how much weight that single action carried, how it sent her thoughts spiraling in every direction?

It was Charlie in his purest form—effortless, infuriating, and entirely unaware of the havoc he wreaked on her heart. Or worse, maybe he did know. Maybe he knew exactly what he was doing, and he just didn’t care. The thought made her chest tighten, the ache of uncertainty threatening to swallow her whole.

Y/N didn’t make the decision all at once. It wasn’t a grand epiphany or a sudden resolve to cut Charlie out of her life entirely. Instead, it came in quiet moments, in the spaces between his laughter and her silence. It was the ache in her chest after nights spent waiting for something more, the hollow feeling that lingered after he turned his charm to someone else. Slowly, she began to pull away—not enough for anyone to notice at first, but enough to protect herself.

It started the next time he tried to sprawl across her lap during one of their quieter gatherings in the cave. Normally, she would have let him, her hands instinctively finding their way into his unruly hair. This time, she shifted slightly, leaning forward just enough to make the gesture awkward. He paused mid-movement, a flicker of confusion crossing his face before he laughed it off, settling against the rock beside her instead.

“You’re getting stingy with the lap space, Y/N,” he teased, shooting her that boyish grin that used to undo her. She forced a laugh, light and unbothered, and Knox jumped in with a joke that shifted the group’s attention. She was grateful for the distraction, even as she felt Charlie’s gaze linger on her a second too long.

She didn’t stop coming to the cave, didn’t stop sitting beside him during meetings. That would have raised questions, drawn attention she didn’t want. But she started drawing boundaries—subtle ones that only she noticed at first. When his fingers brushed hers, she pulled away just a little too soon. When his touch lingered on her arm or her shoulder, she found excuses to move, to shift her focus elsewhere. She stopped letting him hold her gaze for too long, stopped answering his teasing remarks with the same soft warmth she once had. Her responses grew neutral, her smiles polite but distant, her laughter quieter, less personal.

The hardest part was changing the way she spoke to him. She started to choose her words more carefully, deliberately moving their conversations away from the intimate territory they’d once inhabited. She spoke to him the way she spoke to Knox, or Neil, or Meeks—warm but friendly, never crossing the line into something more. When he teased her, she teased back, but the softness in her tone was gone. When he leaned in close, whispering some private joke just for her, she pulled back, laughing lightly but keeping the space between them.

Charlie noticed, of course. He wasn’t oblivious, even if he sometimes pretended to be. At first, he brushed it off with jokes, playfully calling her “cold-hearted” or “aloof.” But as the days turned into weeks, his remarks grew sharper, edged with a frustration he didn’t bother to hide.

One evening, after the group had dispersed and the boys were walking back toward Welton, her the other way, he finally called her out.

“You’ve been weird lately,” he said, his voice more serious than she’d expected. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his steps slower than usual as they walked side by side.

“Weird?” she asked, feigning confusion. “How so?”

He stopped, turning to face her. The dim light from the nearby lamppost cast shadows across his face, making his expression harder to read. “Don’t play dumb, Y/N,” he said, his tone softer now, almost pleading. “You’re pulling away. I can feel it.”

Her stomach twisted at the raw honesty in his voice, but she held her ground. “I’m not pulling away,” she said, keeping her tone even. “I’m just... trying to make things easier. For both of us.”

“Easier?” He frowned, his brows knitting together in confusion. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means,” she began, taking a steadying breath, “that I think we need to set some boundaries. Clear ones. You’re my friend, Charlie. That’s all we’ve ever been, and that’s all we’ll ever be.”

Her words hung in the air between them, heavy and final. She saw the flicker of hurt in his eyes, quickly masked by a smirk that didn’t quite reach his usual bravado.

“Boundaries, huh?” he said, his voice tight with forced humor. “Didn’t realize you were such a rule-follower, Y/N.”

“I’m not,” she said quietly. “But I can’t keep doing this—not when it feels like I’m the only one who doesn’t know where we stand.”

His smirk faltered, and for a moment, she thought he might argue, might try to convince her to stay. But then he shrugged, his usual nonchalance sliding back into place like armor. “Whatever you say,” he said, turning and walking ahead without another word.

She stood there for a long time after he disappeared into the night, the ache in her chest sharper than it had ever been. But this time, it wasn’t unbearable. This time, she felt the faintest stirrings of relief beneath the pain—relief that she’d finally taken a step toward reclaiming her heart, even if it meant leaving part of it behind.

The shift was palpable, and everyone in the Dead Poets Society felt it. Where Y/N and Charlie had once been inseparable, now there was only a careful, deliberate distance. She no longer sat beside him in the cave. Instead, she found a spot near Knox or Neil, her focus firmly on the poetry or the discussions at hand. She laughed with the others, joked with them, even debated them—but with Charlie, there was only silence.

Charlie didn’t handle it well.

At first, he tried to keep things normal, filling the gap with his usual charm. He’d toss jokes her way, flash his signature grin, lean casually in her direction as though daring her to ignore him. But when her responses came clipped and polite, or worse, not at all, he started retreating too. His jokes turned sharper, tinged with bitterness he didn’t bother to hide. When she ignored those, he stopped trying altogether.

The quiet between them wasn’t hostile—it wasn’t anything at all. It was the absence of everything they’d once shared, and that was worse than any argument could have been. The others noticed, of course, though none of them dared to bring it up directly. Neil, ever the peacekeeper, occasionally tried to draw them both into group conversations, but it always ended awkwardly, with Y/N excusing herself early or Charlie storming off. Knox exchanged worried glances with Meeks and Pitts, but even they didn’t know how to fix something that had already fallen apart.

One evening, as the group gathered in the cave for another meeting, the tension came to a head. Y/N sat near Neil, her notebook open in her lap, the candlelight casting soft shadows across her face. Charlie was at the far end of the circle, sprawled on the ground with a cigarette dangling from his lips. He wasn’t paying attention to the poetry being read, his eyes instead fixed on her, unrelenting and unreadable.

She felt his gaze but refused to look up, her focus firmly on the poem Neil was reciting. Her heart beat faster, her pulse loud in her ears, but she forced herself to stay composed. This was what she’d chosen—distance, clarity, self-preservation—and she wasn’t going to backtrack now.

When Neil finished reading, the group broke into soft applause, and the conversation turned to the next meeting’s plans. Charlie stayed silent, which was unusual enough that it drew attention. Knox nudged him lightly, murmuring something she couldn’t hear, but Charlie only shook his head, his expression dark.

Finally, he broke the silence. “So, what? We’re just pretending this is fine?” he asked, his voice cutting through the chatter like a blade.

The group froze, everyone turning to look at him.

“Charlie,” Neil said cautiously, “what are you talking about?”

Charlie’s eyes stayed locked on Y/N. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

She felt the weight of his words like a physical blow, but she refused to rise to it. She closed her notebook slowly, meeting his gaze with a calm she didn’t feel. “This isn’t the time or place for whatever you’re trying to start,” she said evenly.

“Isn’t it?” he shot back, sitting up now, his cigarette forgotten. “Because it seems like you’ve been avoiding this conversation for weeks. Or avoiding me, more like.”

The others exchanged uncomfortable glances, clearly unsure whether to intervene or let it play out.

“I’m not avoiding anything,” Y/N said, her voice firm. “We’ve already talked about this, Charlie. There’s nothing left to say.”

His laugh was bitter, humorless. “Nothing left to say? That’s rich, coming from you. You used to never shut up around me.”

“That was before,” she said softly, her tone steady despite the ache in her chest. “Before I realized I needed to step back. For my own sake.”

“For your sake,” he repeated, the words laced with disbelief. “And what about my sake, huh? Did you ever think about that?”

Her composure wavered for a moment, but she held her ground. “You don’t even like me like that, Charlie,” she said quietly. “You never have. And I can’t keep letting myself believe otherwise.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Charlie stared at her, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. For a moment, she thought he might argue, might try to tear down the walls she’d built around herself. But then he laughed again, low and bitter, and stood abruptly.

“Fine,” he said, his voice cold. “If that’s how you feel, I won’t bother anymore.”

He turned and walked out of the cave without another word, his footsteps echoing in the stillness. The group sat frozen, the tension lingering like smoke in the air.

Y/N exhaled slowly, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched her notebook to her chest. She could feel the others’ eyes on her, their unspoken questions heavy with concern, but she didn’t have the energy to explain. Instead, she stood and followed the path Charlie had taken—not to chase him, but to leave the cave entirely.

Outside, the cool night air hit her like a balm, soothing the raw edges of her emotions. She looked up at the stars, their distant light a stark contrast to the turmoil in her heart. She’d done what she needed to do, what she should have done months ago.

So why did it feel like she’d lost something she could never get back?

Y/N, once a vibrant and steady presence among the group, had grown quieter, more reserved. She still came to the meetings, still participated in the discussions and laughed at the jokes, but something in her had pulled inward. She became deliberate, careful, every word she spoke measured and free of vulnerability. It was as though she’d wrapped herself in armor, impenetrable and unyielding.

Charlie, on the other hand, was chaos. His laughter was louder, his jokes sharper, his need for attention almost desperate. He’d started flirting more—brazenly, recklessly—with anyone who would entertain him. Girls from other schools, waitresses at the diner, even strangers at the train station. It wasn’t subtle, and it wasn’t lost on the boys, who exchanged worried glances every time he sauntered into the cave smelling faintly of perfume and cigarettes, a cocky grin plastered on his face.

“Where’ve you been, Dalton?” Neil asked one evening when Charlie arrived halfway through their meeting, his tie loosened and his shirt rumpled.

Charlie shrugged, leaning lazily against the cave wall. “Busy,” he said with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You know me—always finding trouble.”

The others laughed uneasily, but Y/N didn’t look up from her notebook. She could feel his eyes on her, searching for some reaction, but she gave him nothing. Her pen moved steadily across the page, her posture calm and detached.

“You’ve missed three meetings this month,” Neil pressed, his tone gentle but firm. “That’s not like you.”

Charlie scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Relax, Captain. Poetry isn’t going anywhere.”

“Neither is your mess,” Meeks muttered under his breath, earning a nudge from Pitts.

Y/N’s chest tightened, but she didn’t lift her gaze. This was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? Distance. Separation. A clear, definitive line between them. She had no right to feel hurt by the way he threw himself into distractions, just as he had no right to demand anything more from her. They were nothing but friends now—or less than that, perhaps. Just two people occupying the same space, their connection unraveling thread by thread.

But Charlie was unraveling in his own way, too.

He stopped coming to the meetings altogether for a while, and when he did show up, it was always late, his energy frayed and restless. The easy charm that had once defined him now felt like a mask, a shield he wielded to deflect attention from the cracks forming beneath the surface. The boys tried to pull him back in, tried to anchor him, but Charlie only laughed and brushed them off, his bravado growing more transparent with each passing day.

And Y/N… she stayed silent.

She didn’t ask where he went or who he was with. She didn’t press him to stay when he left early or try to fill the space he left behind. She told herself it wasn’t her place, that this was the natural progression of the distance she’d chosen. But late at night, when the meetings were over and the others had gone home, she’d lie awake replaying every moment in her mind—the sharpness in his voice, the emptiness in his laughter, the way his eyes lingered on her even when he pretended not to care.

It wasn’t until one particularly quiet night in the cave that the weight of it all came crashing down. The group was smaller than usual—just Neil, Knox, Pitts, and Y/N. The absence of Charlie’s energy was stark, the silence stretching long between recitations.

“Have any of you talked to him?” Neil asked finally, his voice low.

Pitts shook his head. “He’s… distracted, I guess.”

“More like self-destructive,” Knox muttered, earning a sharp glance from Neil.

“What are we supposed to do?” Pitts asked, his tone heavy with resignation. “He won’t listen to us.”

The conversation hung in the air, fragile and unresolved. Y/N didn’t speak, her gaze fixed on the flickering candlelight. She knew the boys were looking at her, waiting for her to say something, but what could she offer? She’d made her choice. She’d drawn her lines.

She told herself it wasn’t her responsibility to fix him.

And yet, as the meeting ended and the others began to pack up, Y/N found herself lingering, her notebook forgotten in her lap. She didn’t know what she was waiting for—an answer, a sign, or maybe just the courage to admit that no amount of distance could stop her from caring.

Because for all the defenses she’d built, for all the ways she’d tried to let him go, one truth remained: she wasn’t sure she could.

Charlie had always been the one who could keep his cool, who could laugh off anything and never let the weight of the world get to him. But now, as the boys confronted him, his carefully constructed walls were crumbling. They found him in his room that day, pacing back and forth, looking more disheveled than any of them had ever seen him. His eyes were bloodshot, his usually perfect hair was messy, and there was a distinct emptiness to his movements.

“Charlie,” Neil started, his voice firm but gentle, “this isn’t you. You’ve been avoiding us. Avoiding everything.”

“I’m fine,” Charlie muttered, brushing a hand through his hair in frustration, as if trying to push the emotions down. “I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

But the boys weren’t buying it anymore. They had seen it for weeks—the cracks in his facade. It wasn’t just about missing meetings. It was the way he was drowning in distraction, pushing everyone away. And they all knew why.

“You’re not fine, man,” Pitts added, his voice hard with concern. “We’ve seen how you’ve been acting. You’re hurting. You’re pushing Y/N away, and you’re not talking about it.”

At that, Charlie’s expression darkened. “Don’t bring her into this,” he snapped, his fists tightening. But it was clear the mention of Y/N hit a nerve, and Charlie couldn’t mask the raw frustration that bubbled up inside of him. “I don’t get it, okay? I don’t get why I didn’t just make it official, why I danced around it for so long. I liked her. I always did...”

His voice faltered. He sank onto the edge of his bed, his hands in his lap, staring down at the floor as though trying to find some sense of direction. “I kept thinking she would stick around, that it would just work itself out somehow. And now she’s gone, and I’ve got no one to blame but myself.”

The boys exchanged uneasy glances, each of them uncomfortable with seeing their friend so broken, but it was clear that Charlie needed to hear this. He needed to hear what they were all thinking, needed to confront the reality of what he had done.

“You can’t just shut people out, Charlie,” Knox said, stepping forward with his usual calm voice but a hard edge to it. “You can’t keep running from your feelings. You had something real with her, and you messed it up. But you’re not beyond fixing things.”

Charlie didn’t respond right away. He just stared at the floor, the weight of it all pressing down on him. Finally, he mumbled, “I don’t even know if she’d want to fix it. I didn’t do anything, anything right. I just... I didn’t make it real. I let it slip away, and now she’s gone.”

He collapsed back onto the bed, his voice breaking as he admitted what he couldn’t say before. “I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t even know if I deserve to.”

The boys stood around him, all of them unsure of what to say. But Neil finally spoke, his voice softer than before. “You don’t fix things by running away, Charlie. You show up. You make it right. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll meet you halfway. But you have to do the work.”

Charlie’s gaze softened slightly, but he couldn’t shake the heavy weight in his chest. He had lost her. It felt final. And the thought of walking into that silence, of confronting the mess he had made, terrified him. But the boys wouldn’t let him off the hook. Not this time.

A few days later, Charlie started showing up to meetings again, his presence there a little less chaotic, a little less desperate. He was still messy, still a little broken, but there was an attempt to pull himself together. He threw himself into the work, into the distractions. But each time he looked around, there was something missing. And it wasn’t just his usual spark; it was her.

Y/N wasn’t at the meetings anymore.

At first, Charlie assumed it was just an off day. But then the days turned into weeks. Others tried calling her, but the replies were few and far between. She didn’t show up at the hangouts, didn’t respond to calls. Slowly, the silence between them grew louder.

He didn’t understand it. He hadn’t expected her to come running back, but he had hoped—hoped—that she would at least reach out. That she would be there. But she wasn’t. She had distanced herself completely.

The boys had no answers either. She was simply gone.

But Charlie couldn’t just sit idly by, pretending like everything was fine. He missed her. He missed her laugh, the way she used to tease him, how everything seemed lighter when she was around. He hadn’t known what he had until it was too late.

Still no sign of her. It was as if she had vanished into thin air. Charlie felt it in the pit of his stomach, the gnawing emptiness that had begun to fill the space where her smile used to be. He had lost his chance.

Meanwhile, Y/N was going through her own quiet spiral. Cutting off contact with the boys had been easier than she expected. She and Charlie no longer shared the same circles, and the distance between them felt... necessary. The absence of Charlie in her life was heavy, but it was also a relief. She had needed space, needed time to reclaim herself after everything had fallen apart. The constant reminders of him, the brief, desperate calls she couldn’t bring herself to answer, were all too much.

She didn’t show up to meetings, didn’t respond to group invitations. The boys didn’t know what to think, but they knew Y/N had made up her mind.

It hurt. It hurt more than anything she had ever felt before. But it was the only way she could breathe again.

Y/N’s mind had been racing for weeks. Every moment of silence, every unanswered call, every time she passed by their usual hangouts, it was like a weight on her chest. She had let go of so many things to protect herself from the fallout. But deep down, she couldn’t stop questioning everything. Maybe I’m the childish one—the thought had haunted her.

She couldn’t focus anymore. Her grades were slipping, her friends at school barely knew her, and the loneliness kept seeping in like an endless tide. She had lost more than just Charlie—she’d lost the version of herself that had been full of hope, that had been able to laugh through the awkwardness. Everything had been wrapped in him, and now that he wasn’t there, she felt like she was floating in a sea of nothing.

She couldn’t help but replay everything. Their late-night talks, the stolen glances, the laughter... but the part that stung the most was that she hadn’t gotten the closure she needed. She had cut off all contact, telling herself that it was the only way to move forward, but it had come at a cost. The truth was, she had never stopped loving him.

But moving was the final step. It felt like the only way out. Another prep school, in a different state, far enough from everything to finally heal—or at least, to try to. She hoped that the distance would give her space to breathe, to find herself again without the constant reminder of a love she couldn’t have.

Packing up her things felt surreal. It was like she was closing the door on so much more than just a school—she was leaving behind the girl who had once laughed with Charlie, the girl who had dreamed of what they could have been. She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to go back, to talk to him again. But she had to do it. She had to move on.

Still, as she looked at the empty room, the reality of what she was doing hit her. She couldn’t deny it—leaving him behind didn’t stop her from still caring. And maybe, just maybe, it didn’t stop him from thinking of her too.

But for now, she was going to face the next chapter alone, hoping that the distance would help her forget the pain and allow her to rebuild herself from the pieces left behind. She didn’t know how long it would take or if she’d ever fully heal, but the decision was made. She had to move on, even if it meant leaving everything behind.

The moving van was parked outside the gates of the all-girls prep school, a stark reminder that Y/N was leaving. It had been a quiet afternoon, most students still milling about after classes. The air was heavy with the fading warmth of the day, and the bustle of Welton kids heading out was like a dull hum in the background. But there, on the far side of the field, Charlie stood frozen, his eyes locked on the scene unfolding before him.

Y/N’s parents were in the process of packing the last of her things into the van, a finality to the motion that seemed to pierce through the haze of everything else. Charlie’s chest tightened at the sight, his mind spiraling as his fingers ran through his already messy hair. His breath came out in short bursts, his heartbeat racing in anticipation.

What the hell am I doing?

He had been circling the field for what felt like hours, rehearsing his lines in his head. He had a plan, didn’t he? A speech. Something that would fix this mess he had made. He was supposed to be calm, collected. He was supposed to tell her everything—the truth about how he felt, how sorry he was, how much he wanted to make it right. But the more he practiced, the more the words seemed to slip through his fingers like smoke.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I should have told you how I felt rather than protecting my ego. I should have told you from the start that I was afraid of losing you... that I never meant to hurt you.”

It sounded so simple in his mind, but when it came to saying it out loud, it all felt so... impossible.

His eyes darted back to the van. It wasn’t just any van. It was the symbol of everything he was about to lose. Y/N was leaving, and he was just standing here, caught in his own head.

Why didn't I just tell her? Why did I wait so damn long?

His stomach churned with the realization that he hadn’t done enough. He had let her slip through his fingers. He’d taken too long to make up his mind, and now it felt like it was all slipping away, out of his reach, and he couldn't fix it in time.

His heart pounded as he moved closer to the edge of the field, his feet dragging like they were stuck in quicksand. He could see her parents now, their backs turned as they focused on the last few things to load up. Y/N wasn’t in sight, and that made everything worse. She wasn’t even there to hear him out, to let him try.

He reached the fence line and stopped, staring at the van. This is it. She’s leaving.

Charlie closed his eyes, shaking his head. He had to act. He had to move. There was no more time for hesitation.

And then, from the corner of his eye, he saw a figure approach—the unmistakable outline of Y/N. She was walking toward the van, her movements slow and deliberate. Every step she took made his chest tighten. He opened his mouth, but the words stuck, choked by the knot in his throat.

I can’t lose her. I won’t.

With a sudden burst of clarity, he pushed forward, determined to speak his truth before it was too late. As he crossed the field, the world around him seemed to slow, the sounds of laughter from other students fading into the background. There was only Y/N now, and the desperate need to make things right.

Charlie’s feet moved faster now, the space between him and the van growing smaller with each hurried step. His mind raced, the words he’d rehearsed countless times rushing through his head, but none of them felt right. He wasn’t prepared for this moment. He’d spent so long hiding behind jokes, distractions, and that perfect mask of arrogance, but now it was just him—raw, vulnerable, and completely terrified of what he was about to admit.

As he reached her, Y/N was just turning away from her parents, adjusting the strap of her bag. The moment she saw him, her expression faltered—just for a second—before the familiar walls went up, that guarded look he had become all too familiar with. It was that same look she’d been wearing ever since he’d distanced himself, ever since he'd messed everything up.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice breaking slightly as he approached her, stepping into her personal space without thinking. She paused, and for a brief, stupid second, he thought she might walk away again. But instead, she just stood there, silent, watching him with those unreadable eyes.

He swallowed hard, heart hammering in his chest. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” His voice was barely above a whisper, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I’ve been an idiot, Y/N. And I’m so sorry for... all of it.”

Her eyes flickered, but she said nothing, and it pushed him to keep going, to explain what had been gnawing at him for so long.

“I’ve always loved you. I know that sounds insane,” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head, “but it’s the truth. I’ve always known. Even when I was with someone else, or when I was being an asshole and pretending I didn’t care, it was always you. I was just... scared, okay? I was scared to change what we had, scared that if I admitted it, it would ruin everything. You... you were always there for me, and I didn’t want to lose that. I didn’t want to mess it up.” He took a shaky breath, his gaze never leaving hers.

“I didn’t know how to deal with how I felt. So I pushed you away. And I got confused, and I lashed out.” His chest tightened, words getting harder to force out. “I was emotional. I didn't know how to handle it, how to handle you—what I wanted with you. I didn't know how to be the kind of person you deserve."

His hands, which had been shaking, curled into fists at his sides, but his eyes never left hers. "All I ever wanted was to be with you. But I kept screwing it up. And now, here you are, and I—" He stopped, frustrated. "I'm not good at this. But I need you to know, Y/N... I've loved you for so long. And I don't want you to go without knowing that."

His voice broke as the weight of it all hit him, all at once—the guilt, the pain of knowing he was losing her, and the overwhelming feeling of having waited too long.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, his throat tight, his heart aching with every word. “I don’t know why I waited. But it’s always been you. And if I lose you now... I don’t know how to fix it. I’m so in love with you, and I’m so scared.”

Y/N’s face was unreadable. For a moment, she said nothing, her gaze flickering between him and the van. Charlie’s chest tightened as the silence stretched between them, and he could feel his heart pounding so loud he was certain she could hear it. She slowly turned away.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he said, each word feeling like it took all of his courage to speak, but it was the truth. “I don’t expect you to just forget everything and come running back, but you need to hear this, okay?”

She hesitated, her fingers gripping the strap of her bag, but she didn’t say anything.

“I’m not perfect,” Charlie continued, his voice thick with emotion, “I’ve never been perfect, and I was a damn fool to not see how much you meant to me. You were never just a ‘friend,’ and I know now that I’ve been holding onto something—stupid pride, fear of change, who knows—but it’s you. You’ve always been it for me. I was scared of what we could be, scared of losing you if I messed it up. But I messed it up anyway.”

Charlie’s breath hitched, his chest tightening as he took a step closer. “I’ve spent so much time telling myself I could move on, that I could just... distract myself with all this other nonsense. But no matter what I did, it was always you. Always.”

His voice softened, and now it was all that was left to say. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to be this person anymore—someone who hides from what he feels, someone who runs away from the one person who truly makes him feel like he belongs somewhere. Y/N, I know I don’t deserve another chance, but I’m asking you to let me prove to you that I’m ready to be with you. I want us. I want to try. I want you to know that this... us... this is real. It’s always been real.”

Y/N’s back was still turned, but Charlie could see the slight shift in her posture—the hesitation, the quiet battle inside her. And then, after a long pause, she slowly turned around, her eyes no longer as guarded, but still cautious. Her lips parted as if she were about to speak, but she didn’t.

Instead, she took a step closer, her gaze searching his. "Charlie, you hurt me," she said, her voice quieter now, not angry, just sad. "You made me feel like I was nothing more than an option, someone to keep around until you figured things out. I couldn’t just sit there waiting for you to wake up." Her words were heavy, but they held a sense of vulnerability that Charlie had never heard before.

He nodded slowly, his chest tightening at the honesty in her voice. "I know, and I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. But you don’t have to wait for me anymore. I’ve been waiting for you, Y/N. I’ve been waiting for us, for the right time, and I was wrong. I know I can’t change the past, but I want to be with you. I want to make it right. Please, let me try. Let us try."

Her eyes softened, just a little, but she took another step back, as if unsure. "I don’t know, Charlie. I can’t just go back to how things were. I can’t pretend it didn’t hurt."

"I don’t want to go back to what we were either," Charlie said quickly, his voice firm. "I want something real with you. Not games. Not confusion. I’m not asking for everything at once. I’m asking for a chance—just a chance to show you that I’m not the same person I was before." He paused, stepping forward. "I know we’re both scared. Hell, I’ve been terrified the whole time, but I’m not running anymore. I want to be with you. That’s all I know for sure."

She was silent for a moment, studying him, the conflict clear on her face. Charlie’s heart raced in his chest, the waiting unbearable.

And then, finally, she took a deep breath and smiled, just a little. Not the carefree, sarcastic smile he remembered from before, but something softer, more tentative. “You’ve got one chance, Charlie,” she said, her voice steady but warm. “One. Don’t make me regret it.”

Charlie felt something light and pure spread through him, like the weight of the world had finally lifted. He smiled, his heart leaping. “I won’t. I swear.”

And with that, she stepped closer, her hand brushing his in the briefest touch. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was enough. Enough to tell him that maybe—just maybe—they could make it through this together.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she whispered.

“I know,” Charlie said, his voice quiet, but full of the promise of everything he was willing to give to make it right.

Charlie couldn’t believe this moment was actually happening. All the fear, the confusion, the mistakes—all of it had led him here, standing in front of her, heart racing as he waited for her to make her decision. She wasn’t just someone he cared about anymore—she was everything. And now, after all the time apart, he couldn’t let this chance slip away.

Y/N’s eyes softened, her lips parting as if she was about to say something, but for once, Charlie didn’t need to hear the words. He could feel everything she was trying to say in the way she looked at him. The hesitation in her eyes was still there, but there was something else now—something warmer, something that told him she was willing to take that first step toward them again.

"Charlie..." she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, and he could see her vulnerability mirrored in his own.

He took another step toward her, his pulse hammering in his ears, but he wasn’t afraid anymore. Not of her, not of what might happen. He just knew he couldn’t walk away again. Not without knowing if they could truly have what they’d both wanted for so long.

For a moment, everything was still. Her gaze flickered down to his lips, and that was all it took. With a breath that seemed to catch in her chest, she closed the distance between them, her hand reaching up to rest lightly on his chest. She leaned in, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Charlie closed his eyes, letting everything around them fade away.

When their lips finally met, it wasn’t just a kiss. It was everything he’d been holding back—the months of silence, the longing, the regret—and in that single touch, it all came crashing down. Her lips were soft and warm, and Charlie felt like he was breathing again, as if the weight of everything that had gone wrong could somehow be erased in this one moment.

She kissed him back with the same intensity, her hands moving to rest against his neck as they held each other, both of them finally understanding what they’d been too afraid to admit before: they were meant to be together.

As they pulled away just slightly, their foreheads resting against one another, Charlie couldn’t help but smile. "I swear to you, Y/N, I’m never letting you go again."

Y/N chuckled softly, her voice still full of warmth. "Good. Because I’m not going anywhere either."

And in that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of the fading afternoon light, everything felt right. The past didn’t matter anymore. They had found their way back to each other, and this time, Charlie knew he wasn’t going to let fear or doubt take it all away.

They were finally together, and that was all that mattered.

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lovings4turn · 11 months ago

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જ⁀➴ 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐌𝐄 . . . (𝐋. 𝐍.)

— whilst you love the excitement that comes with dating a formula one driver, you cherish the quiet, private moments with lando far more

+ part of my 'be my valentine' mixtape series ! inspired by 'kiss me' by sixpence none the richer, which is one of my fav songs of all time <3

whenever you told someone that your boyfriend drove formula one cars for a living, their initial response was always to 'ooh' and 'ahh' over how luxurious that must be for you. you must be so well travelled, spoiled with tons of gifts, showered with champagne any time he did well on track.

and you would agree - it was true, after all - but those were never your favourite parts of dating lando norris.

what you loved most about lando was how himself he was, no matter how bright the spotlight that shone on him became. it was lando being so quintessentially, well, lando, that had led you to the dreamlike date you were currently on together.

no longer phased by late night texts requesting your company at any hour of the day, you'd wasted no time in getting yourself dressed up for a mystery date the moment lando had messaged you about it.

and now, sat beneath the stars on the hood of his car, you felt like the luckiest person to walk the earth. how lando had found such a pretty, secluded location, you'd never know. part of the beauty was not knowing.

bar the moon acting as your chaperone, it was just you and lando for as far as you were aware. for one night, you were granted your own part of the earth, a land that could be your own.

lando, cheesy as ever, had began to play some romantic old love song from his car speakers, a gesture that was only briefly delayed by the house song he'd accidentally queued up first.

once you'd controlled your giggles, lando had held out his hand, stooping down into a bow and playing the part of a gentleman.

"can i have this dance?" he asked, grin so wide his eyes began to crinkle up at the corners.

hesitant was a feeling you never experienced around lando. your hand was in his before you had time to think.

neither of you were particularly well versed in the art of dance, but you knew each other like the back of your own hands, and each step and movement was fluid, second nature after years together.

the silver moon cast a glittering glow over your intertwined frames, a spotlight for your personal duet that caught lando's face perfectly in it's light.

"you're staring," lando mused, eyes sparkling in amusement as he realised he'd caught you.

"you're making it hard not to," you admitted, eyes flitting down to the curve of his top lip briefly before you met his eyes once more.

"so i'm a distraction, am i?"

it was a joke, yet his fondness for you outweighed the humour in the tone of his voice.

"well, you said it not me."

lando laughed at this, a sound that never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

"i think i can be even more of a distraction," he hummed.

in one swift move, lando's lips were on yours as his hands gripped your waist firmly. the kiss was soft, yet passionate, the movements of his tongue somehow tracing everything he could never say to you into the cavern of your mouth.

being at the track with lando was fun, as was the winter trips to ski lodges and summer holidays in resorts. but without a doubt, your favourite place to be with lando was underneath the haze of the milky twilight, lips locked as his heart bore roots into your own chest.

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 becca's 'be my valentine' special #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula one x reader #formula one x you

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changetyre · 3 months ago

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Cupid

SUMMARY: After the harsh moments you endured with your husband there appear to be better days ahead. Part of the Verstappen Family Verse

WARNINGS: none? Short.

A/N: Lea is 6 and Ivy is 3

Things got better, not easily but they did. Max and you had decided that before anything else you had to talk through the hard months you had endured and also make sure both Lea and Ivy got some sort of explanation and apology for the way they were affected by their parent's miscommunication and being on the receiving end of the pent up anger and frustration.

That's not to say that Max and you spent another second away from each other physically, the same night as Max and you finally spoke you had a passionate night. It was one of the best nights you had perhaps because you'd been longing for each other again for so long, or because of all the emotion involved, or maybe both.

Christmas luckily had been filled with love and joy around the house once more, both Daniel and Lando as well as their families had all spent the night with the family something which both Lea and Ivy had greatly enjoyed.

Flashback **

You let out a deep breath as a soft breeze from the open window woke you up. You could feel your husband's arm wrapped tightly around your waist which immediately brought a smile to your face, weirdly also making you want to cry.

"Morning" You heard Max's hushed voice behind you as he leaned closer burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You giggled at the way his nose tickled your neck but leaned backward and deeper into his arms. "Hi."

"Merry Christmas liefde." He placed a kiss on your shoulder, then one on your jaw, on your cheek, and finally on your lips as you spun around to face him.

"Merry-"

"MAMA PAPA!" Your bubble of romance was interrupted as your screaming children burst into the room.

"Woah!" Max huffed as they jumped on the bed landing on top of him.

"PAPA SANTA CAME!" Lea had a hard time containing her excitement.

"MAMA DEWS PWESENTS!" Ivy giggled happily as she sat on your lap.

"PAPA MAMA COME QUICK!" Lea hopped off her father pulling his arm for him to get up.

"Why don't you go wake up Lando and Dani huh? I'm sure they'll be excited that Santa came." Max tempted the girls who happily obliged with his suggestion.

Despite the interruption, it was a happy and loud morning for everyone.

New years had been a little rougher since you'd been feeling a little sick a few days before, which you thought was probably simply from all the food that you'd been eating during the holidays since it'd happened to you before.

But things became much clearer to you a month later. You'd stopped yourself from taking the test, pushing it as far back as you possibly could because you weren't sure how you'd handle another negative test, afraid that you'd lose yourself again.

But finally, you did. You had to. You'd noticed you were becoming distracted and distant, losing yourself in other ways because of the worry of what might be and the stress of making the same mistakes again so you'd simply opted for finding out.

So there you sat, a few days away from Valentine's Day, on the toilet lid staring at the numerous tests on the counter that indicated you were pregnant. There were far too many emotions coursing through your body a mix of joy and complete fear, it was so different from when you found out about Lea and Ivy.

You were unsure of how long you'd sat there, just...staring. But it was long enough to worry Max who'd been left to entertain your girls downstairs.

"Liefde?" You heard him call you from your bedroom.

You simply looked to the door not having time enough to do anything before he'd opened the bathroom door.

"Max" He immediately knew something had happened from the way you said his name so weakily.

"Are you okay wha-" He didn't have to finish his question before his eyes found the tests on the counter.

"I'm sorry I just...I just found out and-" You weren't exactly sure how to handle this, a few months ago both you and Max had been desperately trying for a result like this but not long ago you'd also both decided that this should only happen when both of you were in a better place and even though you had managed that there was still so much to through that it scared you.

"Oh my god." Max's eyes glossed over as soon as he picked up the first test reading its result, quickly picking up another, then another before he let his eyes scan the rest of the tests.

"Max-" You wanted a reaction, you wanted him to say something but he simply stared just like you. "Max." You called him again your voice still just as weak but he finally turned to look at you.

"oh mijn liefde." He pulled you into his arms holding you tightly after noticing your fear and uncertainty.

"I'm scared." you sniffled in his arms being honest about your feelings.

"Shh, we'll be okay...I promise you we'll be okay, this is our little miracle." Max whispered softly to you placing his hand on your stomach.

This only made you cry harder, this time a sense of relief washing over you.

"I love you." He whispered kissing your temple as he continued holding you tightly. "I love you so much."

You cried for a few minutes in his arms before finally looking at him through teary eyes. "We're having another baby." It was like it was finally sinking in for you.

Max couldn't hold back the laugh that rumbled in his chest. "Yes, we are." He rested his forehead against yours, his own tears mixing with yours.

"I'm pregnant again." You closed your eyes finally allowing yourself to accept the truth. A huge wave of relief flooding you this time, of pride and joy.

"Yes, you are." Max laughed, cried, and smiled with you.

"We're gonna be okay." You said to yourself a little louder this time, wiping your eyes.

Max raked his fingers through your hair, placing a soft kiss on your lips. "We're gonna be okay." He repeated with you.

"MAMA!" You heard Lea call for you. "IVY PAINTED PAPA'S TROPHY AGAIN!" You heard her yell after.

Both Max and you looked at each other before bursting out in laughter. "You ready for some more of this?" You jokingly asked your husband.

"With you?" Max smiled. "Always."

#f1 x reader #changetyre #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1fic #formula 1 #f1fluff #max verstappen x reader #Dad!Max Verstappen #Verstappen x reader

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ice-cream-writes-stuff · 4 months ago

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Spiders Into The Bat...Verse?

{Accidentally getting thrown into another portal, you have to figure out your way back! Yet Au's are tricky things...}

《BATBOYS and SPIDER!S/O》 Mini Series

╭╭(╭◕‿◕╮)╮╮ ♡ /|\ ^._.^ /|\

Bruce Wayne/Batman:

"Phew~... Well, that should be all of them." You grin, smiling at the Dark-Knight... Bat-Knight? Either or, you happily bump into his armor as you talk with Captain Gordon. The Knight looming beside you easily.

When you first arrived, you crashed into Wayne Manor's extravgent garden party. Crashing into tea sets and tables, while trying to fight off the pest that threw you there!

While simultaneouly keeping terrorfied citizens and guests away.

Finally throwing the creature back into the portal, you cheered. About to follow suit, yet as soon as your web was tossed in. It snapped as portal closed.

Groaning softly, your spidey senses alerted you to the knew presence in the room. Recalling being knocked out, you noted your suit is still on and your on a really fluffy bed.

You don't deem the butler as a threat, opting to instead go over and ask questions as he leads you down below the grandiose home.

The Bat-Knight is Prince Bruce Wayne, heir to the late King Thomas and Queen Martha. Yet is scene in the eyes of the royal council and public as...

Well, not a suitable candiate to rule quite yet.

Since most of his time was spent jesting with royals and nobility at soirees. Along with a few scandals of chasity here or there...

"Hmmm... I'll call you "Wayne" for short. You reply bluntly.

"...Do what you like then." He said distractedly, eyeing the paperwork on his desk.

Having the permission, you get up from your seat. Holding out your arms expectedly.

His saphire eyes narrow at you, "what are you doing."

"I wanna' hug. That's what I would like!" You reply.

With a bit of a clash, you found somwhat normalcy with him and his estate.

He too, had gotten used to your visits to his study. Never fully sure on how to debute you into high-society so he could keep an eye on you when out of the estate.

Quickly giving Bruce a kiss on the cheek in graditude, you step away, fixing the attire he made you wear for the gala. Before eagerly pushing him to join you at the table of desserts or savory snacks.

Dick Grayson/Nightwing:

Rolling your eyes at the hand outstretched for you to take. You ignore it as you walk beside the "Nightwing" of this AU. Glancing at the horse that neighed for your attention as well, you gave it a small pat.

"You' sure you don't need a ride?" He asked politely. The sun beating down on your backs.

Readying yourself, you shoot out a web to the clock-tower in the middle of the dusty town.

"Thanks, but I'll be fine." You said steadily, pulling yourself up high into the air. Web-slinging carefully on only the higher buildings.

A low whistle leaves his lips at the sight.

Dick is the eldest son of the Batfam, along with being apart of the wealthiest family in town.

The family owning a multitude of lands and ranches across the county and beyond in other cities.

Richard has high education and well respected in the community even without his fathers wealth. Takes care of the ranch in Büldhaven, mostly. But often visits Gotham, each time it's a celebartion of his arrival.

Sweet as a bell, always giving a helping hand.

"You.. You seem indifferent." The young man states curiously. You smile slightly, "Yeah. So.. Thanks for that." Holding up the item gifted to you, you head to the drawers to place it elsewhere. The peice of jewelry too dazzling to be out.

Glazing at your (modern) jacket, he picks it up. Tracing the fabric while your back was turned. Strange as it was, he thought it was quite cute. A bit odd, but it suited you.

As Nightwing, another vigilante of the west, the two of you work suprisingly well-...Enough.. As if you know what he has on his mind on the occasion.

Your fighting styles may-be different, but that hasn't stop you two before.

Poking at the boquet in your hand, you hear the soft steps near the horse stalls come closer.

"Hey." You greet, grogginess in your voice.

"Hello... It.. Seems you have a admirer, other than myself." He spoke playfully, side-eyeing the weeds.

You blink, turning away to hide your smile. Small bits of laughter spilling out of you as he stalks closer, pouting.

"So? Where is he?"

"Far." You shrug, gazing at him with mirth, eyeing the buttercups sadly.

Overall, just an idea I had! Maybe I'll do more in the future with other batfams members?

[Thwnk you for reading, reblogs, comments are apperciated! Fan art as well! See you soon! Yall want a part 2? *wink*]

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whispering-clan · 1 year ago

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The Costal Valley Territories

I made a map of the Whisper-verse clan's territories!

These clans live alongside the sea in a small valley split by a river!

Note: this map is more representative than entirely accurate, I just tried to show the basic idea of what the territories look like.

Descriptions of the Clan Territories below!

Moon Island:

Moon Island is both the gathering place for the clans on the full moon, and the place where the majority of the clans (excluding Whisperingclan) go to speak to Starclan. In the middle of the island where the trees form a circle around a large stone, the leaders will perch for meetings. This is also where cats wishing to speak to Starclan sit- under the light of the moon and stars.

...

Age/origin: Youngest clan; formed after the founders were banished from Roaringclan for a coup against the new leader.

Whisperingclan:

Mood Board

Territory: the tallest mountains, rocky, though with some trees, grass and bushes interspersed with the stone. There are a few small creeks and pools running through the mountains due to rain and snow run off, there are also several caves within the mountain. The winter is the worst here with the high altitude and high snowfall.

Camp: the Whispering Cave, a large cave filed with mystical glowing crystals which seem to whisper with the words of the Starclan ancestors. There are several pools above the cave, from which small streams of water fall through cracks in the stone into the cave.

Borders: the River marks the border with Roaringclan and SIngingclan; the border with Growlingclan is only marked with scent markers, though the change in territories can also be seen in the mountain peaks becoming lower and sharper in Growling territory.

...

Roaringclan:

Age/Origin: One of the oldest clans, formed at the same time as Singingclan and Echoingclan; territory was once larger, but was taken over by humans.

Territory: grassy, hilly, plains. Notable features are small patches of trees and bushes, a lake, a muddy/ soil patch by the river, and many little burrows to be found amongst the hills.

Camp: the Abandoned Burrows, a circle of empty fox burrows surrounded by trees and bushes.

Borders: the River marks the border with Whisperingclan; the creek marks the borders of Singingclan and Weepingclan; and on all other sides a human fence marks where their territory ends and the Human Farms begin.

...

Weepingclan:

Age/Origin: Second youngest, though still far older than Whisperingclan; formed from Singingclan separating into two clans, not from any all out fighting, but the realization that there were two obvious separate groups (in skill and personality) in the clan that could survive better in the separate territories.

Territory: marsh lands and dark forests made up of willows and oaks. The forests have soft thick wet peat, though there are some rocky places. Tall grasses and reeds grow around the marsh giving good cover.

Camp: The Weeping Grotto, a large cave opening within a rocky area of the forest of which is surrounded by the largest and oldest weeping willows of the territory.

Borders: the border with Roaringclan is marked by the creek; the border with Singingclan is marked by scent markers, though the change in territories can also be seen in the change in types of trees; the small piece of border with Echoingclan is separated by the river at it's widest, though both clans lay claim to half of the row of stepping stones which could connect the territories; the border which is not shared with any clan stops where human trails (hiking trails) begin, farther from there are human dens and farms.

...

Singingclan:

Age/Origin: One of the oldest clans, formed at the same time as Roaringclan and Echoingclan; originally encompassed Weepingclan as well, but they amicably separated into two clans for better survival.

Territory: forests made of oak and birch along with meadows filled with wildflowers and grasses. Through the center of the territory runs the River and a small creek shoots off through the territory as well. the river is banked by reeds and other water plants.

Camp: the River Hollow, a space surrounded by trees in the center of the island in the middle of the River within their territory.

Borders: the border with Roaringclan is marked by the creek; the border with Whispering and Growlingclan is marked by the River; the border with Weepingclan is marked by scent markers, though the change in territories can also be seen in the change of types of trees; and the border with Echoingclan is marked with scent markers, though it is easy to tell where it is, it is where the sand begins.

...

Echoingclan:

Age/Origin: One of the oldest clans, formed at the same time as Roaringclan and Singingclan; originally encompassed Growlingclan as well, though unlike Weeping and Singing, the separation was born from civil war, the losing side being Growlingclan.

Territory: a beach, almost entirely sand with only costal plants growing in the territory. There is a cliff line which is made up of rock, at the higher end of which the beach is mostly rock with tide pools, weathered stone arches, and the opening to a system of sea caves. This territory seems small, but the sea caves stretch out underneath for large expanses, and even under Growlingclan's territory, Echoingclan lays claim to all of the cave system even under other clan's terriotories.

Camp: the Sea Caves, mostly the large cavern formed at the front opening of the Sea Caves but some cats may even make their own dens in smaller off shoots of the caves as well.

Borders: most of their borders are at the sea's edge, though their borders with the other clans are marked with scent markers; it is easy to tell where territories end however. the border with Singingclan is where Singing's grass begins, and the border with Growlingclan is where the mountain's stone begins.

...

Growlingclan:

Age/Origin: Third youngest, though still far older than Whisperingclan; formed from Echoingclan separating into two clans, two factions in the clan had formed and went into a civil war, Echoing won and banished the losing side to the far less hospitable side of the territory.

Territory: Truly one of the harshest territories, the lower levels of the mountains, rocky sharp lands that end with cliffs along the sea shore that are too high to dare try to reach the sea. There are small groups of shrubs and small trees, but little else in the form of plant life. there are some small pools which are cherished as they are the only certain sources of water.

Camp: the Broken Crag, a cliff face which is broken in places revealing small caves where cats can make dens.

Borders: the border with Whisperingclan is marked with scent markers though the change in territories can also be seen through the mountain peaks becoming higher in Whispering territory; the small border with Singingclan is marked with the river; the border with Echoingclan is marked with scent markers though it is easy to tell where the border is, it is where the sand begins.

#this was fun to make #I love world building :3 #whisperingclan #cryptid plays clangen #clangen #warrior cats #my ocs #warriors #ocs #singingclan #roaringclan #echoingclan #weepingclan #growlingclan #the other clans

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jsmelodies · 27 days ago

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I'd Go Back to the Winter

Five years ago, Elain Archeron loved Lucien Vanserra. Supposedly. She can’t remember a single second of it. And the only way to bring it back is to relive it all.

@laxibbeb It's me, your Secret Santa for the @acotargiftexchange!

It has been so, so lovely getting to know you over the past couple of months. I'll admit that I was nervous about trying my hand at Elucien, but I've enjoyed our talks so much and getting to be creative with this!

I really stepped out of my comfort zone with this one. I do usually stay in canon verse, but not typically in this way. I played around with it a lot here - and I had so much fun doing it!

You said you liked fanfics that were a little Out There, so I really hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it💕

Read here on ao3

Chapter 1

The figure slid into Lucien’s booth just as he finished the last dregs of ale. The long, dark cloak billowed with the movement of footsteps across the creaking floorboards.

The tavern air was humid and sticky, and the fabric of his jacket clung to his chest with sweat. But it was better than the air outside, with a wind so cold it might freeze off the extremities on his face.

And although Lucien had never had a problem staying warm, this was no night for anyone to be outside.

The tavern was one of Velaris’ worst. Perhaps one that his mate’s sister might have frequented, back when she did such things. Maybe that was why she picked it, taking the first seedy tavern that popped into her head.

It didn’t matter to him.

Truth be told, this was one of the last places he wanted to be. Being in this damned city was bad enough, without the invitation that he couldn’t refuse.

Meet me. Written in that perfect, delicate handwriting that was the result of years of forced practice, of tutoring until she looped her letters and dotted her i’s just so. A trained courtier she could certainly be, if she ever wished it. With her pleasant smiles that could bring a man to his knees, she was suited for it.

She lit up a room, bringing it to life. In all ways that mattered.

Her bedroom in the human lands had been anything but dull. Much to her sister’s dismay, she had ivy growing on the walls, even in the wintertime, filling the room with a lush green that drew his eyes from the drab landscape of the human realm. There were potted plants, flowers that reached for the scarce sunlight that set way too quickly. Never enough time, never enough light.

But under her thumb, they thrived. They were vibrant, an explosion of color as they sat on her windowsill.

Persevering. Enduring. Making the most out of what was sparsely given.

Elain Archeron was meant to be in the sunlight. She was light. And even in the mortal lands, it had been clear as day.

The tavern surrounded her in shadow. The cloak she wore covered everything, concealing her identity from all who would dare to look. So utterly dramatic, his mate.

“Elain. Lovely to see you.”

She forced a smile that had become common between them as of late. “Lucien.”

Her hands grabbed the sides of the hood to bring it down around her neck. The tips of her ears poked out from her hair, golden and set in near perfect curls on her back. When she was human, the pattern had been different—still beautiful, but in soft waves that he could run his fingers through.

Now, though, he was almost scared to touch, in fear of ruining their perfection. If she even let him get that far.

She’d been pretty before the war, devastatingly so. Even then, he’d known that he wasn’t enough for her. Elain Archeron was a woman that kings went to war over, and somehow, she’d fallen into his arms instead: a landless emissary with next to nothing to offer.

But her, as high fae? He had to admit that she’d always been meant to be this way. Even if she disagreed, and hated him for thinking so. He hated himself for thinking it, too.

Her eyes widened as she took in the scene around her. The drunk males leered at them from the bartop, and her nose scrunched at the scent that made its way into her nose. She was out of place here, with the pristine dress that he was sure she wore under her cloak, and the clink of gold that he could hear on her wrists.

“This seems like the last place a lady such as yourself would want to meet,” he said. “I do admit, I am quite surprised you suggested it.”

“No one will bother us here,” she explained.

When the barkeep looked their way, Lucien raised his hand in silent request for his glass to be refilled. Elain, however, shook her head when the male’s attention shifted to her, declining what he offered.

“Ah, yes. You wouldn’t want your family seeing us together, would you? It would send the wrong idea.”

She gave him a cruel smile. Well, as cruel as someone like Elain could manage. “Exactly.”

He leaned forward so his weight rested on his elbows, just as his next mug of ale arrived. He let it sit there, his attention focused entirely elsewhere.

The female across from him was much, much more important.

Some things never changed, he supposed. Her tells were the same as they always had been. Still not entirely used to her fae body, he assumed she didn’t know that he could hear it, the slight shake of her leg beneath the table.

Easy enough to hide, from wandering eyes. Indistinguishable enough that she wouldn’t have been chastised for it.

But he could hear it. Faintly. Steadily. The scratch of her heel along the wood of the bar seat, moving up and down as she stared.

Elain Archeron, for all intents and purposes, was nervous.

“I was wondering when you would eventually want to see me again,” he commented, at last picking up the ale that was waiting for him.

That little fire in her eyes sparked. The one that warmed the brown, full of indignation that had once been trained into submission. He’d brought it out of her, stoking it to life once. And he’d loved every second of it.

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Because the mating bond pulls at you, doesn’t it? Just like it does for me?”

Her eyebrows lifted. “That’s presumptuous of you.”

But she gave him that look she always did when she knew she was backed into a corner. So he said, “It pulls and pulls, and at some point, you wonder what you’re missing.”

She didn’t deny him. Call him an arrogant prick all she wanted, but he was right, wasn’t he?

“Well, what is it? You want to give it another go? You want to break the bond? What do you want?”

He didn’t see her next words coming. “I want to remember how it happened.”

The question blanketed over the air between them. It thickened the room like smoke, to the point that he could hardly think, or breathe.

She wanted to know. About them, and how he’d broken her heart. Which, given how they ended up in this predicament, he wasn’t overly convinced to do.

“No.”

“No?”

“Last I remembered, you were begging to forget me.” Lucien offered her a smile, but he knew without looking at it that it didn’t meet his eyes. “I’d be a terrible mate if I took that back, wouldn’t I?”

“But I’m asking you to.” She blinked in that way of hers that showed off her long eyelashes, slow and intentional. It was how she got what she wanted, he’d learned. “It would make a wonderful Solstice present.”

“I was thinking of a nice necklace instead. Perhaps to match the earrings you never wear.”

“Charming.” She leaned back in the seat, crossing her arms across her chest. “I do think I would prefer this, though.”

Delightful. This was exactly how he wanted to spend the holidays: dragging a female that hated him across Prythian.

It was what that damned witch had told him to do if he ever wanted to reverse it. He’d tracked her all the way to the edges of Oorid, to the place right before the wetland consumed the ground entirely. The small cottage had been built upon the squishy mud, stabilized by some ancient magic that he felt twisting around his bones.

It went quickly. They had struck a bargain.

There was no other payment he could offer to a witch that fed on memories, so he’d offered one of his most precious ones, in exchange for the piece of her magic he desired.

The magic that Elain had pleaded for.

And with that magic, came very clear instructions. For Elain to remember any of it, she had to experience it all again: every twist and turn, every moment of joy and heartbreak.

It was painful for him to think about, even five years later. What would it be like for it all to be fresh in her mind again?

“You want to know the story, then?” he asked. “You want to relive it? You want to hate me even more than you already do?” He couldn’t stop his lip from raising in a slight sneer. “Tell me this, Elain. What will you do when you learn? Because I could handle it once, your hatred. But I don’t think I’m inclined to be on the receiving end of that anger again.”

She held his stare for a long moment, then sighed. “Fine. I promise I will have a reaction that is perfectly acceptable.”

“I’m sorry if I don’t trust your promises.” The words came out more harshly than he intended.

She let the words linger.

Her eyes blazed through the space, perfect and defiant and everything he was supposed to love. “I don’t think I hate you anymore.”

The words cut through him, unrelenting as they tore through his heart. Five years ago, he craved to hear those words.

He knew the truth of it—that there was a fine line between love and hate. And that Elain Archeron loved him such that she’d lost herself in it, that with that final blow, it was so easy for it to switch. To cross that line into loathing, until she couldn’t even bear to be in the same room as him.

“I loved you. Didn’t I?” she asked.

He took a sip, and set his glass down on the table. “You did.”

Her lips set into a line, and she straightened in her seat. “I want to know why.” When he didn’t respond, she said a touch softer, “I’m ready to know why.”

Maybe five years was enough to lessen the hurt of it. It was that thought that sparked hope in his chest, that this might be enough to get them talking again. He wouldn’t go quite so far as to hope for her forgiveness. No, that wouldn’t come for a long while.

Maybe, though, they could take that first step.

He looked over her, his decision made. “Pack a bag, Elain. This is going to take a while.”

***

She met him in the morning. She slipped out of the river house before anyone was awake to notice her leave, placing a single note on the main table excusing her absence for the next week.

A garden on the other side of Velaris, was what she said. With enough detail to bore Feyre and Nesta to death, so that they would leave it alone.

No one would investigate. She’d never given them a reason to.

She’d never been to his apartment, yet she knew where it was. That golden thread in her chest knew where to find him, leading her through the labyrinth of Velaris’ streets until she arrived at a building in the heart of the business district, tall and made from red bricks from the mountain range that surrounded the city.

She didn’t understand it. She didn’t think she ever would. How sometimes it felt like he was wrapped around her heart, coiled around it tightly in a tapestry of golden light.

How she could feel his essence through it—something she felt like she was supposed to miss, without knowing why.

How was she supposed to miss someone she didn’t remember?

She missed the laugh that she couldn’t place. The steady breathing that she was sure appeared when he was in a deep sleep, passed out beside her, even if it never formed fully in her mind’s depth.

Sometimes when she saw the glint in his hair, or when the sun hit the russet brown of his eye, she felt a pang in her chest. There was the urge to take those long strands through her fingers, and cup his face with her palm.

Sometimes, she swore she felt the faintest of touches. His lips against her own, the ghost of his hand along her waist. Her hip.

She could hear the soft rasp of his whisper, air pressing against the shell of her ear. Could see the slightest dimple from his smile.

Like she had known once what it had meant to be loved; cherished.

It always slipped from her mind like smoke. And, quite honestly, she didn’t know how she was able to miss it. But she knew that she did, even though she couldn’t name any of it.

Just as dawn broke, she knocked firmly on his apartment door. It was towards the back of the hallway on the second floor, and he answered within mere seconds.

The two of them exchanged brief greetings, awkward and strained as she avoided his eyes. He took her bag from her, slinging it over his shoulder with a graceful movement. She fought to keep her jaw shut, watching the firm lines of muscle flex under his pressed jacket. She’d always found him handsome, even in those early days after the Cauldron, when she hated him and didn’t know why. All she knew then was that she’d begged him to take it away—and he had.

Elain took his hand, and then he brought them through that void in between space. They landed in the middle of the woods, the mortal woods, and the nearly rotted leaves poked out through the snow.

Before them stood a cottage, one that was all too familiar.

For years, she’d lived here. Suffered through harsh winters. Prayed that a single vegetable would grow in that garden, in the hopes that they might be fed.

She hated this cottage.

Memories slammed through her, of trying to stop Feyre and Nesta from ripping each other’s throats out. She’d played mediator for far too long in that house, taking the middle of the bed when her sisters could barely stand to look at each other, even in the height of summer when all she could feel was her sisters’ body heat melting onto her.

The cottage hadn’t fared well, it seemed. The roof had finally caved in, and vines covered the chipped wooden walls.

No one could possibly live here now. She didn’t even know how they lived here all those years ago. Looking at it now, it was pathetic. Certainly not fit for a family of four. If anything, it was fit for a family of squirrels.

“What are we doing here?” she asked.

Sympathy filled his expression, as if he knew the toll that all those years in poverty had taken. Maybe they’d talked about it at great length, before it happened.

Did she share everything with him? All her insecurities, all her doubts? Her dreams of leaving this place behind, and exploring what the world had to offer?

She didn’t know. But Lucien looked at her like he knew her, like his soul was familiar with hers. And she hated it, hated how some part of her reached out and grabbed some invisible hand. How he seemed to reach back, sliding a comforting thumb over the center of her palm.

Even as her hands laid limply at her sides. That phantom touch terrified her, and she knew it was the bond. Knew it was her trying to find comfort, and him trying to provide it.

It was part of why she stayed away from him for so long. The mating bond was a sixth sense, one that she had gone nearly a quarter of a century without. Using it felt unnatural; different from anything she had ever known.

His eyes dropped to her hands for just a moment, before he cleared his throat. “We will not stay here incredibly long, I assure you. As I recall, you were not fond of this place.” He offered her a hesitant smile, and said, “All stories have a beginning, though, and ours starts here.”

***

A snowflake fell to the ground as Lucien approached the cottage in the woods.

He adjusted his sleeves, shivering in the wind that seeped in through his jacket and chilled his Autumn blood. He’d forgotten how cold the mortal lands could be this time of year. With Spring always remaining a constant, lovely temperature, he supposed he’d become a bit spoiled. And he hadn’t done a route through here in ages.

Had Andras been cold when he died?

He imagined the blood of his friend staining the snow a bright red. He imagined a mortal huntress bringing him down with a single ash arrow, and skinning the pelt right off of him. He shuddered at the thought, and forced it from his mind.

He’d never met these humans, but he hated them already. No matter that they hadn’t been the ones to fire the arrow. It was irrational, he knew. For they were the reason his friend had died. His death had been toasted at their dinner table, while they ate and clinked their glasses.

Andras had to die. He knew that. But Andras had been his friend, and they spent most of their evenings playing cards by the crackling fire.

The human had killed his friend, and Tamlin was already acting like a lovesick fool. Offering a damned estate to mortals who he didn’t owe a single copper to. A house that wasn’t about to collapse in on itself would have worked just fine, if you asked him.

Looking at the cabin in front of him, he noted that it was rather pathetic. A thin stream of smoke escaped from a hole in the roof, and he knew just from looking at it that the fire below couldn’t possibly be warming the entire cabin.

Tamlin had done a number on this place. The door was barely on its hinges, as if somebody had made a poor attempt of putting it back into place.

There was a garden in the front, barren from the winter, with only a few lifeless shrubs to indicate that anything had ever grown here in the first place. And the rest of it was drab, more so than he expected, and he had to force his sympathy deep down in his chest where it belonged.

He’d do his job, play his part, and then he could get damn well out of here.

He raised his hands to the door, making sure to knock lightly enough so the door wouldn’t fall right off.

At first, he thought no one would answer. Perhaps without Feyre here, the family had frozen in the cold. He hoped that wasn’t the case, for the sole reason that it might complicate matters. Feyre would be far less cooperative if she learned that her human family no longer breathed, and…

As the thought formed in his mind, he realized how terrible it sounded.

To his relief, though, Then there was a shuffling across the floor, starting from the other side of the cabin, it sounded like, and the door was pulled back just a hair.

Even though Tamlin glamoured him before he left, this woman seemed to stare at where his mask should be, at where his now round ears would normally point into tips.

So, this was the family that the human girl had talked about. He tried to keep his unimpressed look contained as the woman opened the door wider, a sneer already forming on her face.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Miss Archeron?” he asked.

She was silent for a moment. “What is it to you?”

“Your father’s ships. They’ve landed at the docks.”

Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly. It would have been entirely so, if he had been untrained to pick up on such things.

But despite how well-constructed this woman’s mask was, he could pick apart the apprehension, and the disbelief.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“You can call me Lucien,” he said, giving a polite dip of his head. “As I said, the ships arrived just this morning. We couldn’t quite believe it, after all these years.”

She blinked, long and slow. “I won’t fall for your tricks.” She stepped back from the doorway just enough so she could bring the door forward. She said with a snarl, “I would advise you to leave.”

He shoved his foot into the space between the door and the wall, holding back his wince when the woman didn’t hesitate in her movement. It dug into his foot with a searing pain, and the force that this mortal woman put into her blow almost made him wince.

Still, though, he forced his face to be pleasant. “And what makes you think it is a lie?” It rolled smoothly off of his tongue, meant to put the woman at ease.

It didn’t work. Instead, her gaze narrowed on him, ladled with suspicion.

“Nesta, let the man inside,” came a soft lilt from behind her.

Nesta, he assumed, held the door in a death grip, not budging even after the other woman had told her otherwise. Until that woman came to the doorway herself, to see the commotion with her own eyes.

Her own beautiful, deep brown eyes.

Poverty could only hide so much. Even in her simple dress, and the meals she clearly lacked, she was ethereal anyways—a goddess that had somehow taken a human form, who deigned to look at the stranger upon her doorstep with warmth.

He sketched a bow, and murmured, “I do not believe I’ve had the pleasure, lady…?”

The corners of her lips lifted as she blushed. “Elain.”

#elucien #acotar gift exchange #elucien fanfiction #elain x lucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra

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jekyll-doodles · 11 days ago

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The Ladies of Addagala || Kofi | Commission Info | Threadless Shop|| Do not edit, trace, or repost!

So this started as another one-off bit that involved drawing the lords of Alagadda with inverted colors, but it grew into a whole realm with Lore. The finding of this place written below, pov of my sprite persona.

[ You would think I would have learned my lesson by now, considering how the blame fell on me for witnessing and then interfering with these kinds of entities. But, no. And so, with the knowing expectation that I will be held responsible for merely observing this, I wish to tell you what I saw while around the outer boundaries of ■■■ verse, ■■■ space-■■■ time, "SCP Wakey Wakey"’s reality. It would appear that, by accident, a secondary nexus evolved from my observations of Alagadda and its tributaries. An attempt by What Is and What Isn’t to balance out the chaos of the city-state: an antithesis. Such a place is a hefty feast to observe by oneself – hence my absence – so I took in what I could for now. More undoubtedly lingers beneath its glossy surface.]

The Land of Addagala – a name a little too on-the-nose in my opinion, but that's not important – was a citywide sanctuary locked within a snowglobe. The first notable sensation I recall being the chill in the air; I learned later that it became just warm enough in its spring and summer seasons to let the flowers bloom and produce fruit. A warmth that apparently came not from the grey sun, but that radiated out from their beloved monarch. The sun, which also acted as its moon, was more of a static decoration in the sky. No sunrise or sunset; the day faded into night into day into night again without it. The kingdom’s borders were high stone walls, beyond which was a mystery that even my kind could not perceive; it simply did not exist. Leaving through the gates led out to… Well, it led me out to Nowhere, but others presumably back their native reality (hopefully). Within said walls were sprawling, spiraling meadows, pastures, and gardens. Neat rows of simplistic homes and facilities leading up to its centerpiece: a modest basilica with a clock tower that stretched far higher than seemed necessary. Everything within this scenery had its similarly mandated colors – or only naturally occurring ones depending on the realm’s laws– of Silver, Indigo, Sapphire, and Turquoise.

After a general overview, I floated down and followed one of the branching stone paths in the garden. Blue roses and peonies lined in neat spirals, soft turquoise grasses, beautiful stone statues, bumbly honey bees buzzing about; I must’ve spent hours in the garden alone. The aforementioned clocktower would sweetly chime each hour before falling into a peaceful quiet again. I spied a few citizens there as I perused the flowers. Besides the silver masks (also mandatory here), they dressed in accordance with the cold weather: Long gowns, capes, and sleeves; furs, feathers, and fluff; soft, warm, and layered to keep the cold at bay. I learned later that those unfortunate few to enter without proper fittings would not stay cold long as the advising Ladies and their orderlies would happily provide suitable clothing. Their motives are well-intentioned, yet also motivated by an implied modesty dress code. Suppose I should have expected as much from the opposite Alagadda.

It was there within the gardens where I found the first lady of the city: Lady Turquoise, wearer of the Solemn mask. Dignified yet understanding. Her stature towered, imposing an air of respect. She was hard at work tending to the hedges; precise in every movement and measurement. A look within revealed more about her and the kingdom itself: This place had a rigid sense of time and a stern set of rules to keep order: both of which were expected to be followed by every citizen. And schedules needed to be planned, written, and updated by someone. The sense of such strict routines was somewhat nauseating – and I like routine, mind you. But now, in a moment of allowed leisure, she tended to her gardens. I would’ve lingered longer to watch her work, but the hint of desperate perfectionism within warded me off. I drifted off towards the main square.

More citizens, and few visitors, were found here. Pleasantly conversing, eating lunches, etc. It was hard to imagine this place had any tie to Alagadda, opposite or not. The mundanity of it was too… mundane. Even the silver masks adorn by all only gave a small sense of strangeness. Even the appearance of the second lady held little fanfare – if you could even call it that. Lady Silver, wearer of the Solaceful mask. A face that knew deep sorrow yet so hopeful. She was out on a daily constitutional, greeted by the occasional passerby. As I lingered near her, more revealed itself: this was a place of pacifism. Violence of any kind would not be tolerated and be “corrected”. That word always worried me, and for good reason. As the clocktower chimed again, I saw how these “corrections” were made. The tower held many rooms: rooms of solitary for those who needed time to accept the help they were so graciously getting. To break those unfortunate habits they brought with them. Truly, they – well, Lady Silver here had her doubts about it, how helpful – believed this method was humane. My growing disappointment accompanied me as I continued my investigation. The city’s basilica awaited.

More flowers, statues, and an endearing fountain decorated the atrium. A faint humming led me to its kitchen. A friendly tune, hummed by a most friendly person. The third lady of the city: Lady Sapphire, wearer of the Amiable mask. Her countenance bore a gentle, inviting smile. She was discussing medicines with a few visitors it seemed, all while baking some kind of honey pastry. Each and every concern of theirs was met with reassurance, every question had a simple answer. There within her I saw the purpose of the city: to be a place of healing and peace. Vows of sobriety, working treatments for nearly every ailment, and a steadfast belief that anyone could be rehabilitated. Such an unwavering optimist, of her own skills and of people in general, that it was almost… concerning. I did not peer any further.

I meant to keep this short, I really did. However, recalling the little pleasant details before Knowing has helped me get to this point. I remember the walls and columns of the nave being a marble of some kind, streaked with silver and indigo. The natural lighting filtering in and mingling with the grey candle lights. Upon the bema towards the altar, lavish bouquets had been placed. I wish I could have enjoyed the scenery longer – I wish I could have enjoyed Addagala in general longer. However, that is not possible now. There upon the altar stood a large crystalline coffin, occupied by a giant corpse wrapped in glimmering, gossamer shrouds: their beloved monarch, the Charred Queen, seemingly at rest in eternal tranquility. And kneeling at her feet, was the fourth lady of the city: Lady Indigo, wearer of the Quiescent Mask. A face serene in sleep. She was deep in prayer, some hushed communion with the queen. Beseechments of guidance, blessings, and the like. I went to peer in to gain some more insight…

But I found nothing. Hollow. Instead, I felt a connection, a string if you will, leading back to the queen’s corpse. So I followed, and I looked within her instead.

I left the basilica hastily. Back out into the open, chilly air. Up, up, up towards the grey sun until the strange claustrophobic feeling left my chest. Having experienced similar horrors already, it should not have surprised me and I should have expected it, but as you can see – I did not learn my lesson! After a moment to calm down, I decided to make one more investigation before leaving. Hesitantly, I stepped down onto the grounds of the garden. All around me revealed the brilliant branching life of the plants, healthy and prospering. Then… then there were the “statues”. Some brighter than others, some were dimming, but none were extinguished completely…The lucky few to receive the Queen's “blessing”, I learned : an eternal state of peace in the land of Addagala. Or at least, that's what the queen told them, the Ladies, everyone...

No. She would not rest peacefully anymore.

All it would take. Is one. Little. Push.

~~~

#scp addagala #scp oc #ocs #scp alagadda #scp #fan oc #lady indigo #lady turquoise #lady sapphire #lady silver #the charred queen #greenghostlyjekyll #jekylldoodles #lmao i already have a ship for one of them and graves for some others #been hard at work with this 😅

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solarenchanting · 1 month ago

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𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 ── .✦ gojō satoru x fem!reader

should you call him on his birthday?

note: inspired by the song, “birthday” by disclosure, syd, and kehlani; notably the first verse and chorus sparked the inspiration of this fic + specific items are indicated to be meaningful to fem!reader + use of 24-hour time.

part two: birthday wish

the dim, yellow light of your desk lamp glowed in your home office. its warm glare illuminated your surroundings, the familiar decor accompanied by its shadows. the bookshelf filled with your favourite books, various framed portraits of your favourite artworks on the wall, the sheen glint of the laminate floor.

sandalwood lingered in the air, the thick bamboo stick burned slowly into ash. the remnants of gray dropped onto the wooden boat burner. with a turn of your shoulder, you’d see it perched on the windowsill.

the ticking sound of the pendulum clock, its silver swinging weight swaying side to side, fell in rhythm with the soothing pitter-patter of the rain tapping against the window.

to anyone else, this would be heaven.

to have the exquisite blend of sandalwood—woody, creamy, ambery, and slightly sweet scent—creating a mellow and calming ambience, paired with the warmth of the desk lamp and the steady rhythm encouraging you to relax?

definitely heaven.

however, in reality?

you were in hell.

a plethora of paperwork — forms, rosters, letters, reports — and files lay on your mahogany study desk, barely allowing the dark reddish-brown surface to show. your laptop was on, the brightness on the lowest level, with an email that did not find you well. your notebook was open, a black ballpoint pen in hand, sliding rapidly across each page you wrote, each document you signed.

your tired eyes darted around, solely focused on the work in front of you. whether it was scanning the content of whatever document you came across, watching the movement of your hand as you wrote, or glancing between the keyboard and the laptop screen—your eyes roamed everywhere.

everywhere except the bookshelf filled with your favourite books that you couldn’t afford at one point.

everywhere except the various framed portraits of your favourite artworks that you never thought you would own.

everywhere except the wooden boat burner that held the sandalwood incense, bought as a replacement for your old incense holder.

everywhere except the pendulum clock that hung on the wall, the one that caught your eye when you were window shopping that one time.

everywhere except those gifts that were from—

your hand froze—along with your body—stopping at a random syllable of a word you were writing, the grip on your ballpoint pen loosening as it fell from your hand, landing with a soft thud onto your notebook.

your eyes widened, a shock passing by, before you closed them. an exasperated sigh escaped from your lips, your hand moving to hold your forehead as you propped an elbow onto the desk, leaning forward.

you were doing it again.

your mind was wandering off to him.

him with hair as white as the late december snow that fell in tokyo.

him with those beautiful, soul-piercing, blue eyes that were reminiscent of a clear sky on a summer’s day in august.

him with that damned blindfold, which he always took off in your presence because he knew how much you loved his eyes.

him and that—

no. stop it, [name].

he’s nothing but an old flame.

well, at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the past year and four months—not like anyone’s counting—since you left him behind.

ever since december began, he’s been on your mind. he’d randomly pop up at the most inconvenient moments. you’d see his favourite bakery, walk past his favourite stores in the mall, or spot something you knew he’d like.

opening your eyes, you lifted your head from your hand. you leaned against the backrest of your chair, arms lazily placed on the armrests with your hands resting downwards, and your head tilted upwards the dim-lit ceiling.

there was only one reason behind this.

your hand found its way to the pocket of your sweatpants, pulling out your phone, and bringing it up to your face. your thumb pressed the power button for a second, the blue light of your phone emitting onto your face.

and there it was—the reason you’ve been behaving the way you have for the past six days—plain as day.

00:57

Saturday, 7 December

Calendar・my love ♡

instantly, you pushed yourself forward once more, dropping your phone onto the desk amidst the scattered paperwork. you fell back into your previous position, elbow propped on the desk, hand pressed against your forehead. your free arm lay flat on the desk, fingertips tapping rhythmically on the wooden surface.

the home screen of your phone staring at you with that fucking notification glaring at you.

if it had been anyone else you cut ties with, and if you’d forgotten to erase traces of them on your phone, you would've swiped left—out of sight, out of mind. hell, you would’ve deleted it the moment it came across your screen.

if it had been any other day—and not the fucking 7th of december—you wouldn’t have cared. there wouldn’t have been a second thought. not even a last thought, as that would mean it’s still a thought.

you wouldn’t be sitting here, staring at your phone, wondering what he’d say to you, wondering if it would be a huge mistake if you…

should you…?

should you call him on his birthday?

you bit your lip, furrowing your eyebrows, and stopped tapping your fingers. once again, you leaned back into your chair, your phone in your hand this time with your thumb hovering over the screen.

you could call him, just to make sure he’s okay.

or would he prefer that you didn’t—prefer that you simply let him go?

before you could consider anything, you sat up straight, your thumb swiped across the screen. your thumb swiped across the screen, and with swift movements, you entered your pin and clicked on contacts, scrolling down until you found it.

gojō satoru ・090-xxxx-xxxx

his old number.

but is it even working?

a/n: happy birthday to gojō satoru !! <33 happy gojō satoru day, everyone !! especially to the gojō satoru lovers <33

iʼd say this is my contribution but itʼs a sad fic (?) (also the mentioned song helped me write this, of course).

regardless, i hope this is enjoyable to whoever comes across it !! :)

much love from me to you ♡

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turtledovenycx · 1 year ago

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"Under the stage, below the platform" (𝐁.𝐂)

🎧Chase Atlantic - Heaven and Back

“The feeling of pleasure with the thrill of not being caught was so naughty, so wrong.”

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧

𝐭𝐚𝐠: 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲, 𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧! 𝐚𝐮, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭🔞

𝐖.𝐂 𝟒.𝟐𝐤

ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜᴛ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲, 𝐒𝐞𝐦𝐢-𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚, 𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠)

“She looks good in that skirt.” Chan’s thoughts were half rational and half PornHub. He was not the kind to lose his cool that easily, being the leader of an unruly but lovable band that behaved like children for half of his life, he was well versed in keeping calm but lord! Were you testing him today?

The crew had given the boys a holiday under supervision. In light of their fame, they had to select an amusement park where they wouldn’t be disturbed too much. The crowd at this park was present but thankfully scattered. It was just the managers, the boys, and a few friends, no cameras, no scripts, and no retakes, they had the freedom to just be themselves without the pressure. However, this was not necessarily a good thing especially for Chan because if the boys were loud on camera, they were supersonic off camera sometimes completely forgetting their idol image. The perks were their VIP passes which ensured they did not stay at one spot for long enough to be noticed.

Some of the boys invited their s/os’ like Chan while the single members of the group took the liberty to bring their closest friends. It was like an extended hangover, after the initial awkwardness of the meet-up and introduction, the atmosphere shifted from bashful laughter to free laughter. Since for some of them, it was a date the team decided to form small groups or go as couples until they regrouped for lunch at the nearby place. This was the most normal they had been in their recent schedules.

You and Chan decided to venture off alone, going through the highlight rides before it got too crowded and then slowly making your way across one end of the park to the other. It was so refreshing as both of you spent time laughing and wandering in and out of stores and souvenir shops. Your laughter increased tenfold when both of heard what sounded like Changbin’s scream as the ride rose into the air and dropped. The ride read DareDevil and Chan's phone lit up with a notification, a selfie - in which Lee Know was smirking wearing a devil horns headband, Changbin crying in the background, and Jeongin losing his shit from laughter. You both stared at his phone the group chat alive from the incoming messages, you sipped from Chan’s drink, his focus turning to yours while your attention was on the phone.

Your eyes crinkled at the edges as the grin never left your face, a soft laugh escaped as the phone lit up with new messages and more pictures of poor traumatized Binnie. Your lips looked so soft, so plump and bright now resting between your teeth as you tried to control your laughter. You took another sip of the slushie your eyebrows narrowing at the cold.

Just like it narrows when-

“Channie, want ice cream?” You asked looking up to find him staring at you, his face so close to yours his nose almost brushed yours when you lifted your head. He tucked his phone back into his pocket before brushing a stray strand of hair off your face. He nodded, his eyes landing briefly on your lips before he pulled himself together. “Yeah.” He said clearing his throat, you smiled before walking forward, hand in his leading him through the crowd. Chan was a gentleman, your boyfriend treated you like a princess in and out of bed. He was never against PDA but he held himself back from kissing you in public given his responsibilities of his image and most importantly he did not want you to feel overwhelmed not that you ever could with how comfortable you were with him.

It had started with your skirt, Chan loved your body and soul, and he urged you to do the same. He was the happiest when you pushed past your insecurities and dressed up… just for him at times. To him you are the most beautiful being in the room regardless of where you guys are. As of right now, The skirt you had on was soft, not as soft as your plush thighs but soft and fell seductively till your mid-thigh. The ruffles and bows drew attention to the material and your legs… oh your legs Chan thought, ‘Mine’.

The top you wore was tight in all the right places, accentuating the curves of your torso and your breasts peaking out from the sweetheart neckline. The two-layered necklace that adorned your neck completed the look, a surge of possessiveness went through his body after seeing the C imprinted on the choker.

“There it is” you chimed stopping abruptly, Chan almost did not hear you. There was a queue in front of the stand, you hesitated ‘What if someone recognized Chan?’

“We can get it som-” he pulled you forward and stood behind a mother and her kids who were waiting in line. You stood a step behind him.

“Chris, what if someone sees you?” you whispered using his first name, his cock stirred in his pants you only called him that when you were serious or horny.

“I’m wearing a hat, plus I don’t see anyone who could potentially notice us, “ he replied after doing a quick scan of the short queue, a few kids, parents, moms and dads juggling toddlers and some teenage couple.

“Okay,” you sighed, slipping your hand into his and interlocking your fingers, Chan brought your palm to his mouth placing a soft kiss on top. You blushed and smiled brightly up at him and Chan wanted to kiss you so badly. Oh fuck!

You guys talked about this and that, you trying to make sure no one saw Chan and him trying not to bend down and kiss you square on the mouth. He successfully distracted you as you recited the latest drama that was going on in your workplace. You rambled on and on pouting slightly at the memory of the argument and Chan found it adorable. He even thought about pulling you in between the stores and fulfilling his wish. But before he had to go to the bathroom.

“Baby, I need to go use the restroom,” he said placing a discreet kiss on your head. You nodded, the line was slowed down because the machine had stopped. Chan walked away from the line as two workers wrestled with it.

When he returned you were on your phone and there was just one customer in front of you. He took a once over of you again, standing there brows knitted in concentration, one hand playing with your necklace before looking up at him, your face smoothed and a smile broke down, your turn was up as he jogged towards you.

“Hi, what can I get you?” the boy behind the screen asked before his eyes landed on you. His eyes too flicked to your lips for a split second as you skimmed the menu. The appearance of your boyfriend next to you wiped the small smirk of the boy’s face replaced by a disappointed frown. This however did not go unnoticed by Chan.

“I’m thinking blackberry or should I get mango?” you ask breaking the glare he held onto the boy as he looked down at you.

“Get what you want love.” he deadpanned, his curt answer surprised you, but you brushed it off.

“I’ll have the blackberry swirl.” you smiled at the boy who clicked onto his screen, “would you like that to be in a cone or cup?” He returned with an over-enthusiastic smile. “Cone please” he nodded.

“And a salted caramel-” you stated looking at Chan for confirmation, he nodded before smiling to himself giddy that you knew exactly what he craved.

“Cone or cup.” the boy rudely asked eyes turning to Chan, he glared back with the same intensity. “Cup.” Chan would have added a please or a smile under normal circumstances but this guy was being rude.

“Could I interest you in any toppings?” he asked eyes trained on you as you were busy watching the ice cream being scooped.

“I don’t know it's an additional few dollars.”

“It’s on the house.” the boy smiled as his co-worker scooped up the blackberry swirl in a generous amount and placed it on a cone covered with tissue.

“Oh really?” you asked, his smile grew brighter, and Chan clenched his jaw.

“Chocolate sprinkles in the salted caramel please,” you said placing the menu down. The poor boy’s face fell and Chan held back a laughter. He was beaming with pride at the guy's failed attempt. Chan wasn’t usually petty and he understood how people would look for an extra few seconds when you were so beautiful. But it’s the way his eyes trailed your torso every time you weren’t looking and the fact that even though it was established that you were taken he would not back off purposely ignoring and behaving rudely to Chan.

“Right it's 18 dollars,” he said his eyes glancing at your chest when you looked away to retrieve the money from your purse.

“I got it,” you said but before you could pay Chan had given his card.

“Make it 20 dollars,” Chan said smirking, holding out the card in his hand in front of your body, covering your chest and blocking the creeps view.

“I could have paid,” you said pouting, he wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you close as you guys moved to the pick-up counter

“Funny, you think I would let you pay,” Chan said as your orders were done.

“Thank you,” you said grabbing the sweet treat and licking off the top, before helping Chan get his spoon and you were off.

You guys walked in silence before you started. “But still, you are always paying for everything. The trip, our souvenirs even the VIP bands,” you say eating your ice cream while arguing why you should be allowed to get the ice cream you and Chan are currently devouring. Fully paid.

“Okay first, the trip and VIP bands are from the company, secondly I like paying for everything, not because I have to or I don't think you can pay but because it makes me happy. I don’t want you to pay, just be here with me, I’ll accept that as payment.” He said almost finishing his cup, extending the last bite to you which you gladly accepted.

“That was cheesy and maybe we shouldn’t have ordered the toppings... Does it taste weird or just me?”

“It tastes fine.” He shrugged throwing the cup in the nearby bin, you guys were on this street set of the theme park. The sides are lined with fake stone buildings with wax statues and stores. There were red phone booths and short streetlights on the path you both walked.

“Speaking of weird, Channie did you feel the dude was being a bit rude?” You asked halfway through your cone.

“Yeah, maybe a bit,” he said holding your hand in the process.

“A little huh? You looked like you wanted to shoot lasers at him,” you stated, he looked baffled.

“You noticed?” he asked you giggled at how shy your boyfriend seemed now.

“Baby, he was being weird I honestly wanted to cancel when he was rude to you. I’m not that clueless you know. I saw you glare at him.” you guys had stopped walking, Chan did not how he felt. Silly? Proud? Turned on?

“It was kind of hot.” you winked and that was the last straw, Chan pulled you between two fake buildings into an alleyway.

“Chan-” you gasped but he had his lips on yours before another word. He tasted like caramel without the weird aftertaste of the toppings. His kisses were fervent, hot, and desperate.

“Princess. wanted. To. kiss. From. before.” he said in between kisses, his hands fervently grabbing your body. Your waist, your hips, your butt, your hands, your face.

“Me too,” you said hand grabbing his collar the other balancing your almost finished ice cream.

“I wanted to kiss you too,” you said kissing his soft lips he held the back of your head, angling it so that he could press to you closer. The taste of caramel and blackberry mixing invades both your senses.

The need to breathe broke the heated kiss, Chan placing his forehead on yours and gasping. You had a smile on your face.

“You wanted to kiss me too?” he asked, one of his palms gently holding your cheek, he placed a chaste kiss on them.

“Mhmm.” you nodded, biting your lower lip, “Since we stepped in the park, I was scared that someone would see us and recognize you,” you admitted looking at your boyfriend. His lip now appeared swollen, glistening with your gloss and saliva. His eyes clouded and had a mischievous glint in them.

“I know me too…. I love you,” he told you kissing your lips to seal his words. You giggled as he alternated with loud smooches and soft kisses all over your face. Chan’s love has always been this and it enthralled you, silly and pure.

“Chris…” you gasped as a few drops of ice cream that was left on the cone fell onto your collarbone missing your garments.

He smirked before looking in the direction you all came in, there were people but no one noticed the small nook. Chan grabbed the hand that held the small piece of cone before bringing it to his lips,

“Mmm.” he exaggerated as he ate the cone, teasingly licking and biting your fingers in the process. Your face flushed red, and your breath became shallow. He moved onto your neck next, placing a long lavish lick from the base of your neck to the side of it.

“Ah, Chris…” you moaned hand in his hair as he licked the ice cream off your collarbone, sucking and biting on the skin to leave a faint mark. He kissed the hickey and kissed his way till his teeth grazed the shell of your ear.

Your hands found their way to his chest as he teased the skin behind your ear earning a soft whimper out of you.

“We are in public… we can’t ..ah” you whispered as your boyfriend pulled your body flush against his. Hand slithering under your skirt he grabbed handfuls of your ass as he kissed you again, his tongue entering your mouth as you gasped.

“Channie…” you pushed him away to put space between the two of you. Heaving as you guys neglected oxygen. He wasn’t done he had lost half his rational thoughts and right now all he wanted was you, more and more of you. He pulled you towards him by your hands and was about to kiss you when a loud whistle broke the trance you were in, clearing both of your thoughts and reminding you guys that people could see you. No one noticed thankfully the whistle was just a group of friends goofing around.

“I need more,” he whispered in your ear as you straightened his shirt, wiped gloss off his lips, and tended to yourself. Your face felt hot at his submission his hands snaking around your waist. Your boyfriend rarely showed this side of him, but you became excited and shy when it did. He was so demanding and his usual shyness faded revealing a bold man with a filthy mouth.

“We can’t, not here,” you said placing a kiss on his lips and walking towards the front of the alley. A few kids had begun to look into the space wondering.

He pulled you back a few steps. “The restrooms?”

“Chan, it's the holiday season, and a lot of people will be there in the restroom how are you gonna sneak into the women's room.” you laughed as you both emerged from the nook onto the street.

“Wait, why me? I’ll sneak you in.” He protested.

“There is no way I’m sneaking into the men’s room,” you say

“But-” his whine got cut off with a phone call.

“They are regrouping, it's 1 p.m.” He said.

“So fast? Where was the pizza place again?” you questioned, looking at the hand map you guys had grabbed from the entrance, if you both made a shortcut through the stage field you could reach there in a shorter time.

“Come on.” you grabbed Chan’s hand and walked towards the stage.

The stage was not huge but it was big enough for a band of five and their equipment to perform. It was at a decent height and could be viewed from afar. This was the heart of the park, and a local band was set up to perform. Chan zigzagged his way through the crowd, till you guys reached the stage. The platform was raised and the same height as your boyfriend. The guards hadn’t set up the gates yet so both of you slipped in and went behind the stage where people were shifting and moving props.

“Are we allowed in here ?” you questioned as you both speed-walked through the hustle and bustle.

“No, I don't think so.” Chan said, “I thought so, babe we -” Your sentence was cut off again as Chris pulled you under the platform, through the black curtains. The underside was spacious it was filled with backup speakers, wires, equipment, and microphone stands. Boxes and cartons filled one side and a big sound woofer was placed next to it, you could hear footsteps above you.

“What are you doing? we are gonna get kicked out,” you whisper- yelled as the Chan cornered you, you hit the woofers and Chan caged you in with his arms.

“I told you I want more,” he said in his thick accent, eyes falling onto your lips. The dim light and space make that action insanely attractive.

“Someone could walk in.” you tried as he dipped his head between your shoulder and neck placing kisses.

“We have to be quick then,” Chan stated before he shut you up with a soft kiss, you all but melted. The band had begun sound testing and the bass from the guitar reverberated through the platform, to the poles that held it, into your bodies. He bit slightly onto your bottom lip, earning a whimper out of you, and pulled back. Chan looked at you as you seemed to be in a daze, eyes glazed over, marks on your neck and collarbone, and gloss-smudged lips. Gorgeous. The confined space heated up quickly as he lifted you onto the woofer, people ran to and fro -on and behind that stage- but at that moment you couldn't care less, it was like you both had entered a different world. Where the two of you were alone.

His fingers began undoing the ties on your top, pulling the neckline down to expose your breast.

“Ah, Chris-” you mewled when Chan kissed around your nipple, before playing with it using his tongue. The band had begun playing a song as Chan created bite marks around the supple flesh and sucked on your nipple till you couldn’t hold back your moans.

“My girl, so sensitive here,” he said using his forefinger to circle your hardened bud, your body jerking at the action. He kissed you as his hands made their way all over your body, one palm gripped your ass as the other disappeared between your legs and moved your skirt out of the way.

You moaned into his mouth your hands reached towards his bulge, trying to provide friction over the rough denim as he pushed your panties aside and played with your clit.

“You are so wet for me? Hm? All for me my baby…” he all but breathed into your mouth, one of his fingers entering you as you let out a whine. Chan groaned as you reached for his zipper but he stopped you.

“I want to taste you.” He said before he got on his knees and pushed your skirt up,

“Channie-” you tried weakly as he licked a fat strip from your hole to your clit. Repeating the action he grabbed your hands and placed them on his head, silently asking you to hold his face to your cunt before he dived in under your skirt, the material covering his head partially, holding your panties to the side.

Chan ate your pussy with fervor and passion like he was quenched and needed water, he sucked on your clit before moving towards your hole and teasing the entrance. Your moans were drowned out by the music and commotion outside, and you let out a gasp as your man placed one of your thighs on his shoulder. The new angle allowed his tongue to enter your cunt, and you almost lost balance at the sensation. Your arm tired of holding yourself up so Chan wouldn’t have to bear your whole weight and the other playing with his tresses. He was relentless, slowing down to look at you and smirk before speeding up again. Surrounded by the pleasure you did not quite register two of his fingers entering you until you felt the beginning chills of your orgasm. His fingers scissored you open as his teeth grazed your swollen clit, fingers curled to hit that one spot that had you throwing your head back. Chan gazed to see you your top half undone, tits covered in his marks and spit, hair disheveled, lips between your teeth as you held tried to hold back your sounds. One of his hands reached up to your tit and kneaded the flesh.

“Chris…. Chris.. ah … oh Channie I can’t. Ah..” your foot dig into his back as broken moans and incoherent babbles left you as he fingered you, kissing your clit. "The feeling of pleasure mixed with the thrill of not being caught was so naughty, so wrong." You began moving your hips in sync with his head. The taunt feeling in your stomach snapped when his fingers pinched your nipple and your orgasm washed over you. Your hip jerked and Chan guided you with his hands on your hips as you rode out your orgasm. You tried to pull him up and return the favor but he declined. “It’s okay baby, you can pay me back once we are home.”

“But I-”

“If we start now I don't think I can hold back,” he admitted kissing your pussy once more before he placed your leg back on the ground and got up dusting his knees. Your legs felt weak and you needed a minute to catch your breath resting your head on his shoulder. Chris wrapped his arms around you placing kisses to soothe you on your head, eyes, and neck. You lazily kissed him as he tried to knot the strings of your top. You giggled and then fixed your top yourself. He held you, his arms around your waist while you rested yours around his neck. You fixed your hair and then smiled at Chan who was busy admiring the faint post-orgasm blush on your cheeks. The music continued outside oblivious of the atmosphere under the stage below the platform

“I love you,” you whispered in his ear not wanting to break the little bubble both of you found under a stage during a band rehearsal.

“I love you too,” he said kissing you again, your lips felt fuzzy.

“I love you,” you repeated and he chuckled. “This because I didn't get to tell you at the alley. And this-” you placed a long kiss on his lips smiling against his lips, Chan feeling dizzy “for always taking care of me.” Before Chan could reply someone entered the space both of you jumping at the intrusion.

“HEY! WHO ARE YOU? YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE?!” the woman yelled as someone else entered under the stage. Springing to action, you both ran out of the stage into the crowd. Chan grabbed your hand as he pushed through the crowd yelling out ‘Sorry, excuse us, pardon me mate.’ you guys did not stop till the stage disappeared behind and you were close to the pizzeria. You both stopped laughing and tried to catch your breath, you fixed yourself as Chan discreetly adjusted himself in his pants. You send an apologetic glance to which he just winks and kisses you briefly. As soon as you entered the restaurant you spotted your friends, the loudest in the bunch, it was remarkable how people had not recognized them when they doing everything but laying low. The shouting and hollering intensified as the two of you approached the somewhat private tables.

“You’re late!” Jisung yelled, he was in a mid straw fight with Seungmin. “Yeah, we took the long route,” Chan said slipping into the booth after you.

“Of course you did.” Lee Know said smirking, he noticed the flushed expressions, Chan’s messy hair, and faint marks on you before his eyes met Chan’s. You blushed and turned away from them engaging in something Felix said.

‘Not a word’ Chan glared at Minho. He smiled shrugging before turning away to share a knowing look with Hyunjin. The fuckers had bet on why you were late Minho won clearly as Hyunjin extended a five-dollar bill to him. “Guys, Changbin Hyung cried.” Jeongin reminded again as Changbin groaned.

“In-ah! For the last time, it was because of the speed” The laughter and shouting ensued and Chan placed his hands on your thigh. The clock on the wall read 1:50 and you hoped the day would not end.

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦. 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘤𝘹 ©

A/N: it was a bit long right? This is my first time writing smut so excuse any mistakes. I hope you enjoyed it. follow @turtledovenycx for more.

_nyx.☽༊˚

#skz x reader #bang chan imagines #chan smut #chan x reader #bang chan #bang chan fluff #skz smut #skz imagines #stray kids #skz #kpop fanfic #kpop #straykids x reader #stray kids imagines #bang chan smut #bangchan x reader #nyx writings.☽༊˚

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z3rinn · 1 year ago

Text

# #. I WANT YOU MORE.

in which link has secretly been pining for the new librarian, and when he finds out you like someone he goes a bit batshit. warning : theres some blood and yandere content ahead !!

this took so long omg T_T testing and everything was hectic, but i hope you guys like it! this was written with botw or totk link in mind !! is it weird that I love Zelda so much but I haven't written much for it?? yes. but uh. LINK !!!

Link had been blessed. That's what everyone told him. He was a hero. Someone who saved this land for more than a millenia. He weilded the legendary sword, the one said to seal the darkness. He was blessed by the Triforce of Courage, given to him by the gods themselves.

Link had many titles in life, many burdens he had to carry. It was his job, his duty as a citizen of Hyrule. His duty as the hero.

He had almost everything in life. An outstanding reputation, a good job that kept him steady and afloat. A big house, secluded from others but close enough to not be considered an outcast. Good cooking skills that could impress anyone. Girls flocking and cooing over him. Link was the perfect man for anyone. He had it all.

Except for you of course.

The cute castle librarian.

He first noticed you in the old, rundown, library. A place that definitely needed to be renovated. The hylian glanced around as he stepped into the room. Cracks and shatters littered the room, bookshelves were close to falling, and the roof just seemed to barely be holding up. Books were piled everywhere and anywhere the eye could see.

It was an impressive library, he had to admit. Just a bit outdated. Perhaps that's what gave the building its beauty though.

Link glanced over to the small door near the end of the library, noticing a person coming out of it. You must’ve been the librarian, he quickly realized. He sized you up and down, you looked… done, oddly enough.

Zelda was the one to first talk to you of course. You were the head of the library, so kind and soft-spoken. Links eyes stayed fixated on your form as you greeted him and Zelda, showing them around. It was obvious you were trying to impress the princess while still being as kind as you could.

However, Link watched closely, scrutinizing your form with his piercing gaze. He noticed the way you talked about the different books and architecture of the building in great detail. Usually people spoke about the details with great pride, flaunting how they were so well versed in the subject.

Yet Link could tell you were tired. Tired of your duties and being stuck in this library. The way you spoke sounded energetic, and the smile on your face could fool anyone.

Yet he noticed the way you deflated after speaking with the princess. As if you had said these words a hundred times over. It was all calculated. A prepared speech. You were tired. That much he could tell.

He was tired too.

☆

Link found himself gravitating to the library after his first visit. There was something about it that called to him. Perhaps the want to know of his ancestors and their accomplishments. Thats what he kept telling himself.

He wouldn't do much while there however, other than picking up a book ot two before taking a seat at the table closest to your desk.

He tried reading the books of course, and at first succeeded without much distraction. However from the corner of his eyes he watched as you worked. Placing books onto their shelves, helping out customers, and tidying up as best you could.

Link’s eyes followed your form wholly. Although he could still notice ths small details, like your walking being sluggish, the knight couldn’t help but gawk. You were just so captivating. So fluid with your movements.

The way you moved around so swiftly yet carefully, aware of what you were doing while still being carefree. You could balance various books in your hands, all in different sizes. You maneuvered across the children running around, being steady to not harm them.

A light laugh escaped your lips as you told them to be careful, this was a library after all.

Link could tell that laugh was genuine at the least.

The heroes gaze fell to his hands. He wondered how you could act so engaged while still hating your job. The book he held felt as if it weighed just as much as his sword now.

"Oh, if it isn't the princesses guard! Uhm, Link... right?"

Link’s head snapped up, his gaze meeting your own. He was quick to note that the library had become silent. He hadn't realized it, but it seemed as if it was only you two left in the library now.

"What brings you here?" You spoke with a soft smile on your face. A costumer service smile it seemed. You were probably just waiting for him to get up and leave so you could close shop.

You shimmied over next to him, eyes focussing on the book in his hands. "Ah, a book on the master sword. You must be reading about your ancestors, correct?"

Link nodded, as you came to sit besides him. "I can help if you'd like? I’ve been researching the master sword ever since I was young. I’ve always been fascinated by the legends and heroes that fought with it.”

You turned to him, “It’d be nice to learn from someone who actually wields it as well.”

You spoke with a smile on your face, it was bright and real. He noticed the way you glanced at the sword on the table. Awe and admiration in your shimmering eyes. It looked as if you wanted to learn about it for a while now.

Hm. A small smile grazed his face. Blue eyes shining down at you.

Perhaps this could blossom into a nice friendship.

☆

It seemed as if Sir Link was visiting your library more and more often as of late.

You couldn’t help but smile as you noticed him outside office window, seeing the familiar blonde hylian sitting at the desk closest to you. He always sat there, eyes glancing around for you before just sitting and silently waiting. You giggled, placing the book back on your desk before walking out of the small room.

Walking towards him, you reminisced, recallinghow much time had passed. It had been around a month since you first met the hero, asking him to collaborate with you.

It started off simple, researching the master sword while talking about the heroes of past. There wasn’t much meaning to it, in fact it was just pointless chatter.

I mean the both of you knew the same exact things anyways.

However, you couldn’t help but think of Link as some sort of idol. It was a practically a dream come true, being the wielder of the legendary sword. Almost every kid that had heard of it wanted to become the great hero.

It was an honor and a sign of courage.

But also a sign of power.

You sighed, well if you couldn’t keep the sword, you could at least be friends with the person that did.

So it was only obvious to propose your grand idea.

And ever since then, Link would visit whenever he was off.

Sure, you didn’t expect him to show up every other day, but Its not like you were complaining. Link was basically unreal. He had a pretty face, and great hair. He was quiet and mysterious, yet soft and kindhearted. Plus he could cook. Practically everything you could want in a man.

You tapped your fingers against the table, another sigh escaping your lips.

Hm. Too bad you were already engaged.

Sure it was a forced marriage, but you wouldn’t cheat. You couldn’t deal with that guilt on your conciseness. You had to do it for your parents.

Your soon to be partner wasn't a bad person. He just wasn't the right one for you.

You didn't like him.

If only you could make someone get rid of him.

Your eyes shifted to Link’s form, staring at him intently. A smile was on his face as he rambled on about his first time seeing the sword. There was a childlike joy on his face as he spoke.

He was experiencing an old memory. A vivid scene from his past.

You noticed Link seemed to be opening up to you more, speaking incessantly and happily. You couldn't help but smile too. He was just perfect.

Someone that was already wrapped around your fingers.

Link was opening up more and more to you throughout your time together. At first he was silent, just watching you speak. You were the one to hold most of the conversations, with him just humming or intensly nodding along. He was so serious it was kind of funny.

You knew he had gone through a lot, so you'd let him take his time. He could become closer to you as time passed.

It didnt take as long as you assumed however, as the shell he hid behind had begun to crack. He started to smile and laugh when you told him a dumb joke. He was relaxed around you, his stiff posture loosening with a soft look on his face.

He started speaking on his own as well. That was probably the biggest improvement. The first time you heard his voice you practically swooned.

Link opened up conversations now, speaking about his experiences and abilities.

Someone that was already yours.

“So Link,” you suddenly started, staring at the wooden table before you while placing your head on your palm. Might as well as do it. “Have you ever had a lover?”

You were nervous to look at him. It was an odd question for sure, and you weren’t certian if you were close enough to ask him. A moment passed. And then another. Sweat ran down your back. Perhaps you were right for being concerned, as Link was silent.

You couldn’t help but glance up at him, gazing into his eyes fearfully. However, instead of the disgusted and judging look you expected, you were met by red.

Links face was flushed scarlet, hot and warm. His eyes were wide and darting to every corner of the room, so obviously avoiding you. Their pretty blue color was accentuated by his reddened face. Magically, his pretty hair became disheveled, adding to the almost comical scene before you.

A small smile played on your face, mischievous and sly. You couldn’t help but giggle, "Have I struck a nerve?"

He looked away from you, albeit, while shaking his head. It surprised you honestly. He was oddly embarrassed for such a simple question...

A laugh escaped your lips, a joking tone laying on your tounge. "Really? I would've assumed the hero of hyrule would have a partner..."

You paused, watching his expression closely. He was just sitting there, listening to you intently. The blush on his face had slightly subsided, yet was still present on his pale face.

Was it right to say this now?

A smile grew on your face, elegant and sweet. Hiding your intent. "Especially since even I have one."

You looked closer.

It was subtle, but you could tell Link’s expression changed. His face fell, even if it was just slight. You could see his eyes grew wide, mouth slightly falling agape.

But as quickly as the shock arrived, it left.

A soft smile grew on Link's face, gentle and calm. It would've captured your heart if you didnt know him that well. It was so obviously sad it kind of hurt.

Eh. No. No it didnt.

"I'm surprised, you don't seem all that shocked...," you leaned forward against the table, placing your head in your chin.

The hylian simply shrugged, lip twitching as if he wanted to say something.

Suddenly Link stood up, stammering something about Zelda needing his help. It almost gave you whiplash with how quickly he tried to leave. What an obvious lie. You tried to hide the smirk peeking up on your face.

You didn't expect him to loose his cool that fast.

Instead, you mirrored Link's sad expression, standing up to place a hand on his shoulder.

"Ah, I'm sorry to have taken your time away from the princess..." You flashed him a smile, patting his shoulder while trying to convey a solemn expression. "I guess I'll see you later?"

He nodded, taking your hand off his shoulder and keeping it in his. You noticed that he hesitated for a moment, eyes fixated on your softer hand.

He brought your hand to his face, gently kissing your finger tips and knuckles before turning away. You gaped, holding your hand close to your chest. Subconsciously, it seemed, that Link did the motion.

And he left you in the dust, just like that. With your heart beating and your mind racing. A smirk grew on your face, shining brightly as you giggled.

Link was the right choice.

☆

Link was sure he knew everything about you. From your favorite book to how many fruits grew in your backyard; despite never being formally invited.

It wasn't unwarranted for him to... conduct experiments per say.

You always told him to research if he was ever curious about something. And doing it hands on was one of the best ways to get good information.

So he researched, learning practically everything there was to learn about you.

Including your lover.

He just hoped you'd forget about them. Hoping you realized you didn’t need them. Link was so much better, he could love and care for you more than they ever would. He could protect you better then they ever could.

Your lover wasnt even there half the time. They didn't care for you. They didn't love you. They weren't right for you—

crash

Link stepped back, startled. He reached for his sword, before a light sigh escaped his lips, relaxing. A pretty vase sat in front of him. Now broken and shattered. He was getting carried away it seemed.

But Link cared for you. He was capable of everything. He could protect you. He would always be there for you.

He would love you.

Link would always love you.

Although. Sometimes he couldn't figure out why.

Perhaps it was because you spoke to him as if he was normal. Being the head librarian led you to learning heavily about Link's ancestors, and of course, their legacies.

They were all courageous hylians, heroes that were blessed by the gods themselves. Heroes that held the triforce.

Heroes he had to live up to.

But you didn't treat him like that.

While yes, you commented on him being a hero, and how he was lucky enough to have everything, you still treated him like a regular hylian.

You didn't judge him for his mistakes. Nor his skills. You laughed with him as you would a friend, jabbing and joking with him. No matter what he did, you accepted with a smile. Speaking to him as a friend would.

With you, he was like he was any other person.

He was so glad to have you.

It could've also been your mannerisms. You were gentle and soft-spoken, helping others with no compensation needed.

You were a model to many. The embodiment of a worthy citizen.

Yet there was also an air of mystery surrounding you. As if you knew more than you let on. It made you oddly compelling.

He noticed how you payed close attention to things. Just by the way he would speak, you could tell how he was feeling. Just by glancing over at someone's expression, you could tell what they wanted.

Link especially noticed how you looked at him. How you paid so much attention to him.

And only him.

Or maybe it was the way you slept with all the light's off. In pitch dark, no light whatsoever. It made it absolutely perfect for him to just stand over you in the night, breathing heavily over your gorgeous face. His hot breath mixing with yours—

Link blinked, glancing down at the broken shard from the vase in his hand. He had clutched it too hard it semed, as blood coated his hand.

It steadily dripped to the floor. A small pool of blood seeping into your wooden floors. It was red. Deep and scarlet like.

So different from the blood of monsters he'd slain countless times before.

He wondered how scarlet red blood would look pooling out of your lover.

While looking up at the clock on your bedroom wall he smiled.

Right.

You should've been home soon.

And he was right here waiting for you. :)

#link #the legend of zelda #legend of zelda x reader #loz #loz x reader #loz link #linked universe #yandere linked universe #linked universe x reader #link x reader #legend of zelda #zelda #botw #totk #yandere x reader

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nightmare-of-homophobes · 2 months ago

Text

Anything Goes ~ Reno Sweeney x f!reader

Warnings: drinking; smut; sex with a strange; strangers to lovers; fingering (Reno receiving); oral sex (reader receiving); mirrors; slow burn(?); misuse of "anything goes" songs; probably annoyingly ooc (idc); no established period; ignores the cannon; hints of bdsm and corruption kink; maybe lightly hints of religion kink but y'all are not ready for this conversation and I didn’t dive into it so let’s all ignore it; no beta reader; and Carol's reference.

Words: 4,7k (more or less)

Tag list: @confuseuniverse ( @jubshead @yourbasicqueerie @kenzie-floops, in case you guys aren't interested in being in my tag list please let me know)

It’s my first work in months and English isn’t my first language, so be nice leaving comments! Xoxo!

***

That night was supposed to be just one more cold, boring and lonely night, hadn’t your friends asked you to come with them to a new bar, where - they told you - would have some good drink and very good music since a rising singer would be singing there that night. Always trusting your friends to not let you down on your nights out, you put on your best trousers and a long-sleeved shirt and accompanied them.

The bar was a bit hidden, but you were able to find it. It was a rustic but comfy place, like some old tavern adorned with fairy lights and curtains of silk. It felt like entering another land. One where you could rest and forget your problems.

– So… Who is this rising star we came to see? – you asked once you and your friends were settled down on a table in a corner. The bar wasn’t that crowded and the table was close enough to the stage, so you could still have a clear view of it.

– Her name is Reno Sweeney, if I remember it right. – one of your friends, Hope, told you. – She has been doing shows in the bars around the city and it’s starting to get some attention.

– Reno Sweeney? – you repeated the name, tasting the name. It was a good name, one that you weren’t used to. – Have any of you actually heard her singing?

– No, but you know… There’s always a first time. – Billy, Hope’s boyfriend, said while wiggling his brows. You just rolled your eyes, amused with his attitude.

You all had some drinks before the light on the room started to dim and someone announced the great attraction of the night:

– Ladies and gents, I would like you to welcome our guest star, the woman who had been stealing hearts around town with her seductive voice and tempting looks… Reno Sweeney!

Everyone in the bar applauded as a woman went up on stage. The woman was slim and elegant, dressed on a shiny dress with a slit while a faux fur scarf hung around her naked shoulders. All in white tones… Just as some ghostly (or angelic) vision. The only different color she was wearing was on her lips: dark red lips.

Like a forbidden fruit that few would be able to taste.

– She's gorgeous! – Evelyn, by your side, exclaimed.

– Yes… – you breathlessly agreed. – She is.

When the applauses ceased, the woman spoke seductively, her voice soft as a breeze:

– It's good to be here with all of you tonight… – her smile was charming and playful. – The night is a child, my friends, and I'm certainly just starting. – she winked at the crowd.

As the band started playing, Reno Sweeney started to sway gently to the melody before the first verses finally let her mouth. The hair on the back of your neck immediately raised up at the sound of her singing, her words dripping from her lips like honey. Sweet and, oh, so dense. You just couldn't rip your eyes off her.

It was clear tha the moment she started to sing, the bar became hers… And you were afraid you had become hers too.

***

As the night went on and the drinks were drained by your group, you felt yourself getting lighter. When Evelyn asked you to dance, you quickly accepted the offer, playfully assuming the guiding role of the dance - to what he didn't complain at all.

As Reno's gentle voice sang “La Vie En Rose” in the background, you led Evelyn to the dance floor. Couples started to join you and the singer’s attention turned to it, smiling at your playfully behavior as she spotted the two of you in the crowd, dancing through the couples in reversed roles.

You felt nervous as you met her eyes at some point through the dancing, her sassy attitude never faltering as she smirked and winked at you.

(Well, it could've been - and it would make more sense if it was - to Evelyn, but you got yourself hoping that it was to you.)

When the music ended, Reno chuckled maliciously.

– Look at all of us here on a Saturday night… – she started. – Dare I say, we got the behaviour of a bunch of sinners. – she stood up from the little stool she was and gestured towards the people at the bar. Her smile never disappearing. – And since we're a bunch of sinners and mass is only tomorrow morning, I'm afraid I will have to take the burden of guiding you to the light tonight. – signaling to the band, she finished her discourse. – Ladies and gentlemen, we are here tonight to fight the devil… But, of course, we'll do it in the best of styles, so I hope y'all help me by accompanying me in this dance.

As she finished talking, a lively jazz began to play as Reno began to sing about the angel Gabriel. Only that woman could sing a gospel in such a sinful way and yet entertain people who clearly didn't go to the church assiduously.

As she sang excitedly, she left the stage to swing among the people, interacting with tables before getting on the dance floor, dancing with some guys in her way before getting to Evelyn and you.

– Once I was headed for hell… Once I was headed for hell! – she took Evelyn from you, spinning him around just how you've done with him during your dancing. – But when I got to Satan's door, I heard you blowin’ on your horn once more… – she let Evelyn so she could take your hand on hers and spin you too, holding onto your waist after she did it. – So I said, “Satan, farewell!”. – she sang the verse close to your face, making your cheeks burn.

As she let you go and slid across the dance floor back to the stage, you stood frozen at your tracks. Evelyn chuckled at your reaction as he returned to you.

– What the fuck just happened?! – the words blurted out of your mouth as you looked at him.

– I don't know but you got her attention, sweetie! – he said in a singing tone and bumped his hips against yours. – Oh, God, someone pinch me, did we just dance with Reno Sweeney?! – he freaked out a bit.

– WE DID! – I freaked out with him and we laughed our asses out before going to the bar to get a drink.

As Evelyn discussed something about his drink with one of the bartenders, I called another one and asked:

– Could you send one of these to Miss Sweeney? – I pointed down to my own drink. A minty cherry cocktail.

– I could try. – the guy said. – But she hasn't accepted any of the drinks people tried to buy her tonight.

With that, the man caught the attention of one of the waiters and sent them out to ask the singer if she would want the drink. You watched as the man approached her during the break between songs and whispered in her ear, gesturing to the bar.

She gazed at you and you, not knowing what to do, waved shyly at her. She smirked at you while tilting an eyebrow before facing the waiter and saying something to him.

You waited anxiously as they got back.

– She will want a Cosmo instead of the cherry cocktail. – the man informed, waiting for the drink so he could take it back to the woman at the stage.

You smiled to yourself with that and watched when she accepted the drink. She looked at you again and raised her drink subtly at you, to which you answered by raising your own at her direction.

– Seems like you're a lucky one. – the bartender said to you, watching the interaction.

You just chuckled and paid for the drinks.

***

The bar was slowly getting empty and Evelyn was drunk at this point of the night. Billy and Hope were getting disgustingly tactile towards each other and you were in the best of moods.

– I think we should get going… – Hope said after annoyingly letting out a chuckle because Billy was kissing her neck. – Are you coming with us?

– No, you can go… – you said. – I want to see the end of it. – you gestured to the stage.

Billy stood up with Hope and they both took Evelyn with them.

– Good luck, dude! – Billy said as they started making their way out of the bar.

As Reno announced the last song, a man approached your table:

– Excuse me… – you looked at him confused since you didn't know him. – I couldn't help but notice your dancing partner left you and I really want to dance so… Do you fancy a last dance?

You frowned slightly but nodded anyway, quickly standing up. The man didn't seemed harmful at all, so why not?

– Just don't try any funny business. – you warned him, to which he raised his hands in redemption.

– No funny business! – the man agreed.

As Reno's voice flooded the place, you claimed the dancefloor with the stranger. Now there were few people in the bar and most of them were too drunk to know their own name.

The man was gentle and respectful, leading the dance but still giving you some space. While swaying around with the guy, you couldn't shake off that feeling that someone was staring at you - that light pressure nugging at the back of your head and making you feel warmed.

As you looked back to the stage, your eyes locked with Reno’s.

In olden days, a glimpse of stocking

Was looked on as something shocking

But now, God knows

Anything goes

Good authors too who once knew better words

Now only use four-letter words

Writing prose

Anything goes

She sang the verses seductively, never breaking eye contact. You felt your breath hitch.

If driving fast cars you like

If low bars you like

If old hymns you like

If bare limbs you like

If Mae West you like

Or me undressed you like

Why, nobody will oppose

When ev'ry night the set that's smart is in-

Truding in nudist parties in

Studios

Anything goes…

Anything goes

As she finished her show, the man thanked you for the dance.

– This was fun… – he said. – Maybe we could repeat this on another occasion…? – he asked unsure.

You were about to dismiss his offer, when the silky voice rang behind you.

– Excuse me, but can I borrow the lady for a moment?

You felt a shiver run down your spine, so you quickly dismissed the man:

�� I'm sorry… – he just nodded politely and you turned around to face the ginger woman again.

– I don't think I caught your name, sweetie… – Reno said, invading your personal space to hold onto your shoulders.

***

The woman's lips clashed against yours in the hall as she used her body to trap you on the wall. After thanking you for the drink and doing some small talk, Reno invited you to her place, which wasn't that far from the bar, to grab some more drinks and talk, so you accepted the offer.

Yet, she clearly had other plans in her mind.

When you both were out of breath, she stepped back so she could find her key and finally open her room’s door. Once you were inside it, she pushed you back against the wall, her hands going to the back of your neck as she smiled with desire.

– You're beautiful… – she said with honesty, making your heart flutter. You weren't used to being complimented.

– If I'm beautiful, then what are you? – I asked breathlessly. – An angel flung out of heaven?

She chuckled amused, leaning into you again as if to kiss you, but stopping to speak against your lips:

– What does this make me? – her voice sent heat straight to your core. – A demon? – you were about to say that wasn't what you meant when she brushed her lips in a way to your ear to whisper. – I liked it.

Those three words almost made you whimper and you had to shut your eyes tight. You would certainly need to go to church after that night.

Holding onto her waist, you brought your mouth to her jaw, kissing and licking a way to her left shoulder while slowly unzipping her strapless dress - sometimes you even dared to softly bite her milky skin, feeling more confident once you noticed she wouldn't prevent you from it.

When you were about to pull her dress down, she escaped from your hands and mouth, a playful smirk on her face as she held the fabric while throwing off her fur scarf. Sitting on the bed with fluid movements, she stared at you - waiting.

– You first. – she said, her tone deep and sultry.

Swallowing hard, you started undoing your buttons. First you undid the trousers, quickly taking it off with your shoes. Then, as you started to undo the shirt, she gestured with one of her finger for you to come closer.

She slipped off her dress as you walked to the bed. Laying down while pulling you with her, she finished your work before throwing your shirt on the ground, her cheeks a bit flushed as she found herself under your weight - your hands placed at the sides of her head to support you.

At that moment, reality hit you. You had a sexy and talented woman under you. But she was a complete stranger.

– We know nothing about each other… – you commented softly.

– Does it bother you? – she asked in a tone as soft as yours, one of her hands was holding gently at your neck as the other caressed your side, tickling you a bit.

– Not at all… – you answered. – But I would like to know more about you.

She held your gaze and bit down on her lip. The lipstick was smudged and you knew your lips, face and neck were covered in that exactly tone of red.

– Well, then ask me before my mouth is too busy to answer. – she whispered tauntingly, making you close your eyes and the butterflies in your stomach twist crazily.

– Reno Sweeney is your real name, or is it an artistic name? – you asked, sitting down at her thighs.

She sat herself too, holding onto your back so she could kiss and bite your clavicle.

– My real name. – she murmured against your skin. – My turn… Do you live in this city, or are you just visiting?

– I live here… – you gasped as she licked from your clavicle to your jaw. – Uhh… How old are you?

She leaned back for a moment to wink at you.

– A lady never reveals her age. – she dived back into work. – Have you done this before? I mean… With a woman?

– Yes. – your breath hitched as she unclasped your bra and took it off. – You?

– Yes… – she took your breasts in her hands. – How old are you?

– 20. – her hands froze for a second and you looked down at her, worried. – Any problem?

– Not at all… You're just younger than I thought. – she said and you watched how she kissed your nipples, feeling yourself get more soaked at every passing second.

– Too young for you?

– As long as you have age to consent… – she licked one of your nipples. – It won't be a problem for me. – latching her lips on it, she lifted her gaze to meet yours eyes.

You lost any rational thought at that sight and a whimper fell from your lips. Throwing yourself back on her, you kissed passionately, holding onto her tight as you unconsciously started rocking your heat against her thigh.

When her tongue teased your mouth, you promptly opened it for her, letting her taste once more the cocktails you had earlier. She also tasted like alcohol, but with hints of sweet and sour that you recognized from that cosmopolitan.

It didn't take long for her to reach between your legs and start rubbing your clit with her thumb, making you gasp slightly against her lips. You took a sharp breath when, putting your panties to the side, she slipped her fingers through your wet folds.

– Gosh, you're soaked… You probably have been wet since I climbed on that stage, haven't you? – she provoked you, bringing her fingers to your clit to lubricate it.

A small moan left your lips as your forehead rested against hers. Your eyes were closed again and when you opened them it was only to be met with Reno's big brown ones staring up at you in desire and admiration. You almost moaned again at that sight.

Rocking your hips against her hand and thigh, Reno built for you a gentle rhythm as she went back to your chest, playing with your nipples into her mouth or free hand, taking rounds between pinching, licking, sucking and biting them. Making you a total mess for her since her busy fingers on your clit were working at a pace that didn't satisfy you at all.

– Reno… – you whimpered her name, feeling so frustrated you could cry if she didn't give you what you wanted. – Please…

You felt her smirk against your breast before raising her head to look at you.

– What is it, darling? – she asked in an innocent tone, pretending to be clueless to your needs.

– Faster, please… – you begged her, your hands holding at her shoulders with such force you would certainly leave marks.

– What? I don't think I understood you, darling… – she said with a smug smile on her face, her eyes twinkling with malice as she slowed even more the pace of her fingers.

You groaned irritated and looked down at her with a begging expression.

– Please, Reno, don't tease me like this. – you hold her face in your hands, panting softly against her lips.

You watched as her eyes darkened even more and she let out a low, throaty humm at your request.

– I love the way you say my name… – she said before catching your lips again, lying you down on the bed so she could have her way with you.

Feeling her kissing a way from your lips to your belly, you almost couldn't hold yourself from buckling and whining as a slut, trying - not so subtly - to get her attention to where you needed her the most.

– Please, please, please… – the soft pleading left your mouth as if it was your personal mantra, which made her very satisfied.

– Since you're asking so well… – she muttered before diving between your legs, a loud and obscene moan leaving your mouth as she did it.

Her tongue circled your clit slowly and lightly before flattening it against you, pressuring down deliciously so you had no option but to throw your head back on the mattress and tangle your fingers on her perfect red locks. Losing your head as a strain of curses fell from your lips.

– Do I have such power on you or are you always this needy? – she mocked you before licking, very slowly, from your entrance to your clit, sucking it hard as she reached it.

She released your clit with a loud pop and your hips quivered under her. You were so sensitive for her at that point.

– You'll have to fuck me in another occasion to discover… – you answered without even noticing, making her laugh.

– Maybe I'll do it… – she answered before bringing her lips to your clit again as she slipped a finger inside you. You were so wet it didn't have any resistance.

As she resumed her sucking, her finger built a rhythm that made you feel both satisfied but in need of more at the same time. And you let her know it.

– Put another one… Please. – for your surprise, she didn't tease you, just obeyed. Her brows were furrowed from being so focused on bringing you to your climax.

You were an unashamed mess. Face hid on the pillow, fingers tightly holding ginger locks, mouth opened, chest rising and falling heavily, cheeks warm, belly tense, erratic hips and trembling legs.

You were at the edge of your orgasm.

Reno, of course, had noticed all of that and was giving her best to ruin you. Twirling her fingers inside you, she found that spot that almost made you scream from pleasure and flattened her tongue again against you, letting you grind onto her mouth as she kept hitting that spot inside you.

Your hips stuttered as an intense wave of pleasure crossed your body and your mind went blank as you shut your eyes tightly.

When the pleasure subsided and you returned to your senses, you realized you still were holding Reno buried between your legs, so you let her go, watching her pull her fingers out of you while choking to catch her breath.

– I'm so sorry, did I hurt you? – you asked her with worry in your voice.

Her only answer, though, was to throw herself back on your lips, kissing you fervently as she straddled your hips, making you taste yourself on her tongue.

When both of you ran out of air, you separated yourselves, a strain of saliva still hanging between your mouths, connecting you two as you breathed the same air.

She didn't give you time to recover at all before she was grinding against your belly and whispering on your mouth:

– I'm so wet for you… – you groaned at her attitude, which just made her grind harder down onto you. – What are you going to do about it?

Sitting straight while still catching your breath, you averted your eyes from hers for a second and an object, in the corner of the room, ended up catching your attention.

– Nice mirror you have there… – you said to her, your mind already turning its gears.

– Fuck, I'm practically jumping at your lap and your attention is on my mirror? – she complained, shaking her ass on your lap.

You chuckled and took her off your lap, going to the mirror. It was a full size mirror and you replaced it in front of the bed.

– What are you doing, come back, darling… – she said seductively, spreading herself temptingly on the bed.

– Wait a minute, you're going to like this, I swear… – you said and adjusted the mirror. – Sit against the headboard of the bed… Can you see your reflex well? – you asked as you watched her obey your request.

– Hmm… a bit to the left. – she guided you. – Enough, yes, now it's perfect. What are we going to do?

Returning to the bed, you seated beside her and told her:

– Sit in front of me.

Lifting an eyebrow, she smirked, understanding what you were leading to. As you spread your legs and she sat between them, you pulled her body flush against yours.

– Now… Where were we? – you muttered under your breath, letting your hands slide down her body to reach her knees and spread them widely, putting your legs above hers so she was under your mercy. – Your stockings are so soft… – you whispered against her ear, watching through the mirror how she tilted her head to the side, her lips parting as you were running your hands along the stockings. – I wonder if your panties are as soft as them...

Her breath hitched under that comment and you smirked against her neck, letting your right hand wander to her core, feeling how she tensed up the closer you got to it.

Starting to rub her through her panties you used your other hand to pull her bra down and to the side, just enough so her breasts were free from it. Squeezing them and pressing her clit, you were very satisfied to have her getting impatient on your hands.

One of her hands went to the back of your neck while the other held onto your wrist, her breathing getting labored as you put her panties to the side and collected some of her juices with your fingers, before taking them to your own lips to taste her.

– Hmm… So sweet. – you said and heard the small whimper that fell from her as she watched you, through the mirror, lick her juices off your fingers. – Do you want to taste it too?

You placed your fingers back on her pussy, collecting more of her juices. Tapping your fingers against her lower lip, you didn't have trouble slipping them inside her mouth, playing with the softness of her tongue before she actively sucked her own wetness from your fingers.

– Lube them well, okay? – you asked while kissing her jaw and neck. – Then you won't feel any discomfort when I slip them inside you.

A muffled sound left her mouth and you just chuckled before taking your fingers out of her mouth. Without warning, you slipped them inside her.

– Oh, God! – she moaned, throwing her head back on your shoulder, her eyes fluttering close.

– Is it hurting? – you asked, kissing her temple.

– No, no… – she bit down her lower lip, furrowing her brows as she shifted softly against your hips. She didn't seem uncomfortable at all, just unaccustomed. – Just stay still until I tell you so.

With your free hand, you stroke her face and jaw, making her relax against you.

– Go on. – she said softly.

Pushing your fingers deeper, you found her clit with your thumb.

– You know… you have a nice bush down here. – you complimented her, eyeing the ginger locks contrasting with the white fabric and her milky skin. A blush creeped on her skin.

– If only you fucked me with the same talent you use to talk nonsense... – she mumbled with a bratty attitude.

– A what now? – you asked just to be met with her silence. – Well, then I'm sure you could do a better job yourself, don't you think? – you threatened to remove your fingers from her, but her hand on your wrist tightened, holding it in place as she regretted.

– No, no, you're doing great…! – she said, holding your gaze through the mirror. – Don't stop.

You smirked at her reflex and watched her melt against you once again as you started thrusting your fingers in and out her slick hole, the wet sounds filling the room along her small whimpers. But, of course, the quiet atmosphere was broken once her pleasure started to build up.

Everyone who had watched Reno knew she was cheerful and loud at the stage, yet few knew that she was just as loud in bed. Unashamed - and, honestly, not caring at all - if people were able to hear her in the closest rooms.

– Yes! Yes! Just like that! – the words would fall from her lips in succession, like a hellish melody and you were the one orchestrating it.

You couldn’t point out what was better at that moment. If it was to feel her panting against your body as you held her in her place. Or to hear her cries of pleasure so close. Or to see her slim and beautiful figure squirming at every thrust. Or to be thrusting your fingers as deep as you could, caressing the velvet walls of her insides in a dance you discovered with her...

Or to have all those sensations combined with the fact that, in the intensity of the moment, Reno acknowledged how loud she was getting and, in a desperate measure to quiet her down for a bit, she reached for your free hand and placed it around her neck, inciting you to choke her quiet.

Holding her throat firmly and doing a final effort with your fingers and thumb to calm down her buckling hips, you watched, mesmerized, as her eyes rolled up and her mouth fell open as a struggled moan left her, her whole body tensing up as she reached her climax, her legs shaking and her hips occasionally buckling to the gentle rhythm you set to help her ride down her orgasm.

Once she started to melt in your arms, you started to slow down your fingers until they came to a stop. Your whole hand was covered in her juices and you didn’t waste time before sliding into Reno’s mouth the exact fingers that were inside her greedy pussy just seconds ago.

She opened her eyes in surprise, but didn’t make any move to not take them inside her mouth. You were still holding her neck softly and gave a playfully squeeze at it before guiding her chin to face the mirror once again.

– Look at you, Reno… – her eyes stared at themselves in the mirror.

She was the absolute picture of lust. Fiery locks falling into all directions, breasts showing off above her bra, legs spread widely, stretched out pussy, skin flushed in a soft pink, eyes hooded and a bit hazy and all the while you were the one holding her like that.

– You really were onto something when you sang that nowadays anything goes.

Masterlist

#it may be shitty but i worked my brain out to write this #reno sweeney #reno sweeney x reader #anything goes #one shot #patti lupone #reader insert #nightmare writes #nightmare of homophobes

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animc · 3 months ago

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how the haikyuu characters fall out of love — part 2

semi eita falls out of love like an unfinished song, melodies that once hummed through him, now broken, half-formed verses left hanging in the air, notes that never find their resolve. each chord, once full of meaning, now drifts aimlessly, as if searching for a place to land, but never does. the rhythm stumbles, then stops, a harmony that slips out of reach, fading into silence before it ever truly ends. what remains is the echo of something incomplete, a tune that no longer moves him, just stray sounds, half-remembered, no longer played but never entirely forgotten.

ushijima wakatoshi falls out of love like coffee in the morning, once warm and bold, filling the air with promise. but as time stretches, the heat fades, leaving only a cup half-sipped, a bitterness that lingers on his lips. what was a ritual now feels like a routine, the steam that rose in comforting swirls now dissipates unnoticed, like conversations that drift into silence, words growing cold as time goes on.

tendou satori falls out of love like chocolate melting on a tray, slow and inevitable, the warmth of yesterday dissolving into a quiet, bittersweet pool. what was solid becomes soft, then shapeless—familiar yet distant, a memory of sweetness that lingers but no longer holds. each passing day, he watches the edges blur, feeling it slip, first subtly, then all at once, like the fading taste of something once savored, now just a trace on his tongue, a comfort disappearing into time.

oikawa tooru falls out of love like a bird finally leaving its nest. being with you was comfortable, like a sigh of relief when reaching home. you're etched onto every part of his body and woven into every chapter of his story, but in the warmth of your embrace, he knows there's something missing. he finds a house but not a home. and so he spreads his wings, and off he goes, to challenge the unknown... all alone.

iwaizumi hajime falls out of love like a sparkler lit up during a festival—brilliant and dazzling for a fleeting moment, casting radiant light and joy, only to fizzle out as the night deepens. the sparks that once ignited his heart with hope and warmth now dissolve into the cold, empty darkness, leaving a trail of shimmering memories that quickly fade. he stands alone, watching the last embers flicker and die, realizing with a heavy heart that sometimes the most beautiful moments are those we can't hold on to, and letting go is the only way to honor the brief, breathtaking beauty they once had.

hinata shoyo falls out of love like an impulsive tattoo that was done during vacation—exciting in the moment, but soon an indelible mark of a fleeting whim. the allure fades, replaced by a permanent reminder of a decision made in haste. what was a bold declaration now seems out of place, a memento of something that no longer fits. he sees your smile, now more like the ink on his skin—something to move past rather than cherish.

#haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #ushijima x reader #semi x reader #tendou x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #hinata x reader #miri #wrietings #ushijima x you #semi x you #tendou x you #oikawa x you #iwaizumi x you #hinata x you

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atlasthegreatest · 3 months ago

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Unseen Bonds / Wonder Woman x Daredevil! Female Reader

In which, Wonder Woman meets Daredevil, a blind vigilante in Gotham.

Word count: 3398

A/n: This was requested by an anon. I hope you enjoy it!

The rain fell in steady sheets over the dark streets of Gotham, the city pulsing with an undercurrent of crime and danger.

Diana Prince, better known as Wonder Woman, stood at the edge of a rooftop in Gotham City, her eyes scanning the streets below. She had heard of this mysterious vigilante—an enigma moving in the shadows, handling crime in ways that mirrored Batman’s ruthless efficiency but with a certain grace that piqued her curiosity.

This vigilante, dubbed Daredevil, had caught the attention of the Justice League. Though they weren’t a metahuman or an alien, they operated with the precision of someone well-versed in combat, instincts honed to perfection. Batman vouched for them, which was high praise coming from him. But still, Diana wanted to see for herself.

A figure emerged from the shadows, flipping effortlessly from a nearby fire escape and landing with a soft thud beside her. The woman wore a sleek red suit, reinforced yet flexible, with her hair cascading down from under her cowl. Two batons were strapped to her back, and her posture radiated confidence. This was Daredevil—but not the man that Diana had initially expected.

“You’re the infamous Daredevil,” Diana said, turning slightly to face her. “I expected someone taller.”

“Wonder Woman,” Y/n greeted, her voice smooth and calm.

“You’ve made quite a name for yourself,” Diana replied, studying her carefully. “I had to see it for myself.”

Y/n offered a wry smile. “And? Am I living up to the rumors?”

Diana took in the woman before her, not just the strength in her posture but the subtle precision with which she moved. “That, and more.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the hum of the city below the only sound between them. The air was heavy with the scent of rain and the tension of unspoken understanding. Diana had fought with gods and men alike, but this vigilante was something different—something… magnetic.

“We have work to do,” Y/n finally said, breaking the silence. She turned, already moving towards the ledge. “Are you coming?”

Diana smiled, not one to back down from a challenge. “Lead the way.”

————————

Working with Y/n was unlike anything Diana had experienced before. The woman moved with the grace of a dancer, striking with deadly accuracy, her batons a blur as they disarmed criminals faster than they could react. And yet, despite her human limitations, she was always a step ahead—reading movements, anticipating attacks with almost supernatural precision.

Their partnership grew over the following weeks. What began as respect deepened into something more personal. Diana found herself captivated by Y/n’s strength, not just physically, but mentally—her sheer will to fight in a world filled with gods, monsters, and beings with abilities far beyond her own. Y/n wasn’t afraid to push herself to the brink, matching Diana’s resolve in every mission they took on together.

The Justice League soon took notice. Batman, who seldom praised anyone, spoke highly of her.

“She’s earned a place with us,” he said during a meeting, his voice unwavering. “Her skills are on par with mine.”

Superman raised an eyebrow, always skeptical of new members. “She’s human. No powers?”

“She doesn’t need them,” Batman retorted. “Neither do I.”

Diana, seated across from them, remained silent, but her mind was made up. She had seen Y/n’s capability firsthand and had witnessed her bravery and cleverness. Beyond her combat skills, there was something more—a connection between them that Diana couldn’t ignore.

“I agree,” she finally spoke. “She has more than earned her place.”

With Wonder Woman and Batman in her corner, the decision was made. Daredevil was formally invited to join the Justice League.

Y/n quickly became an integral part of the team. She fought alongside Superman, Flash, Aquaman, and the others, proving her worth time and time again. Her senses seemed to be sharper than any other human’s. Her combat instincts were flawless. Even Superman, who had initial doubts, came to appreciate her.

“She’s like a shadow,” he once remarked to Diana after a mission. “Always knowing where to be, how to strike. How does she do it?”

Diana smiled softly, her thoughts on the countless hours they’d spent together in the field. “She’s special. It’s more than skill—it’s instinct.”

The two women grew closer with each mission. The long hours in the field, the adrenaline of battle, the quiet moments in between—it all served to pull them into each other’s orbit. Diana found herself drawn to Y/n’s quiet strength, her sharp wit, and her unspoken vulnerabilities. Y/n, in turn, found comfort in Diana’s presence, in the unyielding force of compassion and power that the Amazon warrior carried.

They fought together, laughed together, and slowly, almost imperceptibly, fell for one another.

———————-

One night, during a particularly brutal battle against an interdimensional invader, the Justice League was scattered. Communications were down, and the battlefield was chaotic. The League members struggled to regroup, but Y/n remained calm amidst the storm. She began issuing commands, guiding Superman and Flash to weak points in the invader’s armor, directing Aquaman to areas where their forces were thinning.

Despite the overwhelming odds, her instructions were flawless.

The battle ended in victory, but the team gathered, breathless and confused.

“How did you know where everything was?” Flash asked, staring at her in disbelief. “Even with all the chaos—you knew exactly what to do.”

Y/n stood still, her mask concealing her face as the rain began to fall again. Her silence spoke volumes.

“ Y/n?” Diana’s voice cut through the tension, gentle but firm.

Y/n hesitated. Slowly, her hands reached up, and she pulled her mask away, revealing her face to the team for the first time.

Her eyes—unfocused, sightless—gazed ahead. There was a collective intake of breath from the League.

“I’m blind,” Daredevil said quietly, her voice steady but filled with the weight of years keeping this secret. “Have been since I was a child.”

The revelation hit the League hard. They had fought alongside her, trusted her instincts and abilities, yet never once suspected that she couldn’t see.

“How—” Flash began, stumbling over his words.

“My other senses are heightened,” Daredevil explained. “I hear things you don’t. Feel things you wouldn’t notice. I’ve trained my body to compensate for my lack of sight.”

Batman, ever composed, was the first to speak after the initial shock. “That explains a lot.”

The team slowly processed this revelation, but none were more affected than Diana. She approached Y/n, her gaze soft, full of admiration.

“All this time,” Diana whispered, stepping closer, “you’ve been fighting without sight. You’ve accomplished more than most with all their senses intact.”

Y/n smiled a small, grateful smile. “It doesn’t make me any less capable.”

“Far from it,” Diana said, her voice filled with warmth. She reached out and gently took Y/n’s hand. “You are extraordinary.”

The rain fell softly around them as the League stood in awe of their teammate. For Y/n, this was the first time she had allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of her newfound family. For Diana, it was the moment she realized that what she felt for the vigilante was more than admiration—it was something deeper, something undeniable.

And in that quiet moment, surrounded by her friends and fellow heroes, Y/n knew she had finally found her place.

————————-

The rain had finally stopped, leaving the Gotham streets slick and shimmering beneath the dim glow of streetlights. The Justice League dispersed after the mission, but Diana lingered. She watched Daredevil— Y/n—as she stood on the rooftop, silent, her mask tucked into her belt.

Diana approached her carefully. “I didn’t expect that,” she admitted softly.

Y/n’s head turned toward the sound of Diana’s voice, her expression calm but guarded. “Did you expect me to have some hidden powers?” she asked her tone light but edged with vulnerability.

Diana shook her head, though Y/n couldn’t see it. “No, not that. I knew you were special before I knew your secret. I just…” She trailed off, searching for the right words. “I didn’t know how much you had overcome.”

Y/n’s lips curved into a slight smile, though it was bittersweet. “It’s been my reality for a long time. Blindness isn’t a weakness. It’s just… different.”

The admiration in Diana’s gaze deepened. She had faced countless warriors and fought alongside gods, but Y/n’s sheer will, her ability to thrive in a world so dangerous, with her blindness hidden from everyone—took a different kind of strength.

“And yet, here you are,” Diana said, stepping closer until she was within arm’s reach. “Fighting beside gods and heroes. Holding your own against threats that even we struggle with.”

Y/n’s face softened, her guard slipping. “It’s not easy, but it’s what I do. It’s all I know.”

Diana reached out and gently touched Y/n’s arm, her fingers brushing against the red leather of her suit. “You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

The weight of those words hung between them. Y/n turned her head slightly as if searching for the meaning behind Diana’s voice. The sincerity, the care—it was something she hadn’t expected from a warrior as fierce and legendary as Wonder Woman.

Y/n’s breath hitched slightly, her emotions catching up to her as she realized how close they had become. She had worked alone for so long and kept everyone at arm’s length. But with Diana, things felt different. Safer. And that scared her.

“I’m not used to relying on anyone else,” she admitted. “I never wanted to.”

“You don’t have to rely on anyone,” Diana said softly, her hand still resting on Y/n’s arm. “But it doesn’t mean you’re alone. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.”

Y/n felt the weight of those words, the sincerity behind them. In all the years of fighting, surviving, and pushing herself to the edge, no one had ever made her feel seen the way Diana did now.

The warmth of Diana’s presence, the strength in her voice, made Y/n feel like maybe—just maybe—she didn’t need to hide anymore.

“Diana, I—” Y/n hesitated, her usual confidence faltering.

Diana’s hand moved, sliding gently to cup Y/n’s face, her thumb brushing lightly across her cheek. “You don’t have to say anything,” she whispered, her voice filled with understanding.

For the first time in years, Y/n let herself relax. She leaned into Diana’s touch, her walls slowly crumbling. There was something about Diana—her unwavering strength, her compassion—that made Y/n feel like she didn’t have to fight every battle alone.

“I’m not used to this,” Y/n said, her voice quiet. “Letting someone in.”

“You’re not the only one,” Diana replied, her thumb still gently caressing Y/n’s cheek.

They stood there for a moment, the city silent around them. It was as though the world had faded away, leaving just the two of them on that rooftop—two warriors, two women who had faced so much but still found something in each other.

Y/n reached up, her fingers brushing Diana’s hand as it rested against her cheek. “What happens now?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Diana’s gaze softened, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Whatever we want,” she said, her voice full of warmth.

Y/n exhaled softly, the tension in her body easing as she allowed herself to be vulnerable in a way she hadn’t been in years. With Diana, things didn’t feel uncertain or dangerous. They felt… right.

Diana leaned in slowly, giving Y/n time to pull away if she wanted to. But Y/n didn’t move. Instead, she closed the small distance between them, her lips meeting Diana’s in a soft, hesitant kiss. It was tender, careful—a moment of quiet understanding between two women who had finally allowed themselves to feel.

When they pulled away, Y/n’s lips quirked into a small smile. “I guess that’s one way to solidify a partnership.”

Diana chuckled, the sound light and full of affection. “I’d say it’s a good start.”

The next day, the Justice League met again. Superman, Batman, and the others were already in the command center when Diana and Y/n entered, walking side by side. The League still had questions, of course—about how Y/n had managed to fight so flawlessly without sight, about how she had kept this secret for so long.

But none of that mattered anymore. What mattered was that Y/n was part of the team. She had proven herself time and time again, and now the truth was out in the open.

“I should have figured it out sooner,” Batman said with a rare hint of admiration in his voice. “But you hid it well.”

Y/n smirked. “I had to. Couldn’t have the League worrying about me.”

“We weren’t worried,” Superman said with a grin. “But we’re definitely impressed.”

Flash zipped over to stand next to her, his usual energy bubbling over. “Seriously, though. You’re like… Batman-level scary. And you did it all blind? That’s insane!”

“Guess I have to keep up appearances,” Elektra teased, though there was a warmth in her voice.

The others smiled, and the tension from the night before faded into something new. Y/n was no longer the mysterious outsider. She was one of them, and they respected her all the more for her honesty.

As the meeting continued, planning their next steps against looming threats, Diana and Y/n exchanged a glance. It was subtle, but it held the promise of something more—a future where they would fight side by side, not just as partners in battle, but as something deeper.

And for the first time in a long while, Y/n felt like she belonged. Not just in the League, but with Diana—wherever that path would lead.

Bonus chapter:

The sun hung high in the sky over Washington, D.C., casting warm rays on the city below. It was one of those rare days when the world wasn’t in immediate danger, and the Justice League didn’t have an intergalactic threat to deal with. For Diana Prince and Y/n, it was an even rarer occasion: a day off.

For once, they weren’t in their suits or masks. There were no battles to be fought, no criminals to chase down. It was just the two of them, walking through the bustling streets, blending in with the crowd.

Diana wore a simple white blouse tucked into fitted jeans, her long dark hair cascading over her shoulders. Y/n, dressed in a sleek black leather jacket over a burgundy top and dark jeans, moved beside her with the help of her cane with the same grace she carried on the battlefield. But today, there was no tension, no need to be on high alert—just a sense of peace between them.

“So,” Y/n said, turning her head toward Diana as they strolled through the National Mall, “what exactly do normal people do on dates? I’m a little out of practice.”

Diana laughed, her voice light and musical. “We do what we want to do, Y/n. That’s the beauty of it.”

Y/n smiled, adjusting her pace to match Diana’s. Though blind, her other senses were finely tuned, allowing her to navigate the world around her effortlessly. And with Diana by her side, there was an ease to their movement—a natural synchronicity.

They wandered through the mall, passing tourists and families, their conversation flowing effortlessly between light banter and deeper, more personal topics. Diana took them to a small café, nestled off a quiet street. The tables were set outside under a canopy of trees, their leaves rustling gently in the summer breeze.

They found a seat at a corner table, and Diana ordered them coffee and pastries. Y/n, who was used to surviving on quick meals between missions, felt a sense of calm she hadn’t experienced in a long time. She leaned back in her chair, the sounds of the city alive around her, the smell of fresh coffee drifting through the air.

“This feels… strange,” Y/n admitted, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup. “Sitting here, doing something so normal.”

Diana smiled warmly across the table. “I think we’ve earned a bit of normalcy.”

Y/n tilted her head, considering the statement. “It’s just… I don’t usually let myself have this. I’m always on edge, always thinking about the next move, the next fight.”

“You don’t always have to fight,” Diana said gently, reaching across the table to take Y/n’s hand in hers. “Not when you’re with me.”

Y/n’s fingers tightened around Diana’s, a small smile playing on her lips. “I’ll try to remember that.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the world go by. Diana watched Y/n with quiet admiration, marveling at how someone so fierce and driven could also be so vulnerable in these moments. She loved the contrast, loved how Y/n could switch from lethal to soft, depending on the situation.

As they finished their coffee, Diana leaned forward with a mischievous glint in her eye. “I have something I want to show you.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what’s that?”

Diana stood, pulling Y/n gently to her feet. “You’ll see.”

——-——————-

Diana led Y/n through the quiet, tree-lined paths of a nearby park, the sounds of the city fading into the background. Birds chirped overhead, the wind carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers.

“I’ve been coming here for years,” Diana said, her voice soft. “It’s where I go when I need to feel connected to the world outside of being Wonder Woman.”

Y/n’s grip tightened slightly on Diana’s arm, her opaque eyes turning toward the sounds around them. “It’s peaceful,” she remarked. “I can hear it—the quiet.”

Diana smiled. “I thought you might appreciate it.”

They continued walking until they reached a small, secluded clearing. A lone bench sat under the shade of a massive oak tree, its branches stretching out like a protective canopy.

Diana led Y/n to the bench and they sat, the afternoon sun filtering through the leaves, casting soft shadows on the ground.

“This is my favorite spot,” Diana said, leaning back and crossing her legs. “It’s far enough from the city that you can forget everything for a while.”

Y/n leaned into Diana’s side, resting her head on her shoulder. “It’s perfect.”

For a moment, they sat in contented silence. The world felt far away, their responsibilities as heroes a distant memory. In this small pocket of time, they were simply Diana and Y/n—two women enjoying each other’s company, away from the weight of their usual lives.

Y/n shifted slightly, turning her face toward Diana. “I never thought I’d have this,” she confessed. “A quiet moment with someone who makes me feel… safe.”

Diana smiled, her arm wrapping around Y/n’s arm, pulling her closer. “You deserve it. More than you know.”

Y/n’s lips quirked into a small, vulnerable smile. “You’re making me soft, Diana.”

Diana chuckled. “Good. You’re allowed to be soft sometimes.”

They stayed like that for a long while, the world passing them by as they shared the simple pleasure of being together. There were no battles to fight, no masks to wear—just them, in the quiet.

They stood together as the sky shifted from gold to deep orange, the city coming alive with the soft hum of evening lights. Y/n turned toward Diana, her blind eyes locking onto her as if she could see her through sheer will alone.

“Thank you,” Y/n said, her voice quiet but filled with emotion. “For giving me this.”

Diana leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/n’s lips. It was soft, unhurried, filled with the warmth of everything unsaid. When they pulled apart, Diana rested her forehead against Y/n’s.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Diana whispered. “Just stay with me.”

Y/n smiled a rare, genuine smile that reached her eyes. “Always.”

#dc comics #dc universe #dcu #wonder woman x reader #wonder woman #diana prince #superman #batman #flash #aquaman #daredevil #female reader #daredevil!femalereader #gxg

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hd-junglebook · 10 months ago

Text

The Other Side

Part 1 - Word Count 2463

Crouched on her tree branch overlook, Y/N watched curiously as the group of five approached the cliff's edge. She was intrigued by these strangers, the first new people she had encountered since witnessing the ship crash.

The boy with long hair moved to grab the rope swing first but was interrupted by another wearing steampunk-looking goggles.

After a brief exchange, the long-haired boy moved back, now standing next to a pretty blonde girl. The four of them exchanged weary glances, silently communicating after they switched places.

The goggled boy backed up several paces, then sprinted forward with a leap, launching himself from the cliff. He swung out in a wide arc, whooping excitedly. At the apex of the swing, he released the rope and landed gracefully on the far ledge.

The group stood in silence watching before they erupted in shouts at the Mount Weather sign. She sat for a moment watching the pure joy of these strangers, hesitating, debating whether to reveal herself. Her curiosity was piqued, but she knew little of their motives or intentions.

The commander sent her down here to gather information with Lincoln, both splitting up as he stayed by their camp, performing a headcount.

Y/N was impressed by his bold daring. She studied the other four strangers, wondering about their origins. They appeared around her age, and wore weird clothing, the material all cobbled together. Perhaps they had banded together after some other disaster or tragedy.

Lexa wouldn’t like any of this, dread filled y/n and she reminded herself that they weren’t going to live long after she traveled back to the capital.

Lexa was stuck in the old ways, never straying from harsh and outdated rules placed by their grounder society. Not that Lexa could change anything, if she allowed these invaders to live, her people would see her as weak, and she couldn’t have that.

Y/N couldn't help but smile as she observed the scene from her hidden vantage point among the trees despite her thoughts.

In that fleeting moment, with their guard down, she saw only vibrant youth, not strangers to fear. She remained hidden for now, but hoped someday their paths might properly cross if fate worked in their favor.

But their happiness was short-lived, shattered by the sudden violence that erupted as a spear was hurled at the unsuspecting boy. His friends' screams pierced the air, echoing with terror. She quickly sprang into action, leaping down from the tree with a soft thump.

Her horse, sensing the distress, whinnied softly as she approached, offering a comforting presence in the midst of chaos. With a swift pat on his flank, both of them set off back to civilization.

With a final glance back at the scene unfolding behind her, Y/N urged her horse forward, their hooves pounding against the forest floor as they disappeared into the safety of the woods, leaving the invaders and their violence behind.

…

“Lincoln?” y/n called out, searching the brush for any sign of her friend. “Lincoln it’s me.” She continued, cupping her hands around her mouth.

There was no reply except for the sound of rustling leaves and the echo of his name. She sighed, weighing her options briefly before heading back to her horse, weaving through the twisted trunks and stomping over the bed of fallen leaves and twigs.

The sound of crunching filled the open space, quickly she grabbed her bow, notching an arrow before scanning the tree line again. Lincolns burly figure melted out from behind a massive oak, his face paint smeared haphazardly across his face from the sweat and heat.

“Lincoln!” she breathed out gratefully, loosening her grip on the bow before stepping forward to greet him. Lincoln stood before her, his calm gaze surveying her from beneath the hooded cloak draped over his shoulders. “I was starting to think you forgot I was coming.”

The barest hint of a smile played across the grounder’s lips. "I am well-versed in the ways of these woods.

It is you who makes noise like a stampeding gorilla." y/n rolled her eyes good naturedly at his teasing. “"Well? What did you see? Anything we should be concerned about?"

Lincoln's expression turned serious once more as he relayed his findings. “I counted about 100 of them. A blonde girl she’s their leader.”

After their discussion, Riss gave him a nod farewell. "I should get back before the Commander sends out a search party for me too." With that, she turned and headed back through the shadowy forest, leaving Lincoln to fade back into his camouflaged surroundings like a ghost.

Y/n strolled through the bustling streets of the capital, the cobblestones echoed with the rhythm of her determined steps.

Street vendors peddled their wares, their voices blending into a vibrant cacophony of commerce. The scent of sizzling street food tantalized her senses as she navigated her way through the throngs of people.

Approaching the imposing structure of the commander's building, she felt a surge of anticipation mingled with a hint of apprehension. "State your business," one of the guards demanded, his tone gruff.

She met his gaze with steely determination, her hand resting casually on the hilt of her hidden sword. "I seek an audience with the commander. It's a matter of utmost urgency."

The guards stationed at the entrance scrutinized her with suspicion until she presented the emblem of her authority.

The guard exchanged a wary glance with his companion before nodding reluctantly. "Very well, you may proceed."

With a satisfied smirk playing on her lips, she passed through the threshold and into the hallowed halls beyond, her gaze fixed on her objective: the commander's hall.

Her steps seemed to melt into the background noise of the bustling corridors, her presence almost unnoticed amidst the chatter. With purposeful strides, she approached the ornate door, its imposing frame a gateway to power and intrigue.

With a soft creak, the door swung open, and she stepped into the chamber, greeted by a gentle breeze that whispered through the open terrace door, ruffling her hair. "Commander," she greeted, her voice carrying respect.

Lexa, seated at the head of the room, smiled warmly, her gaze flickering with recognition. With a graceful gesture, she dismissed her companions, who filed out of the room one by one, leaving the two women alone to discuss matters of consequence.

"Ah, it's good to see you," she began, rising gracefully from her chair. The room seemed to hold its breath as she approached Lexa, her steps deliberate and purposeful.

"What brings you back so early?" Her voice was calm, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity.

As Y/N spoke, she couldn't help but notice the subtle tension that crept into the lines of Lexa's face. A furrow appeared between her brows, a silent question hanging in the air. Y/N pressed on, her own resolve mirrored in the unwavering gaze she held with Lexa.

"I spoke with Lincoln," she declared, her voice steady, each word carefully chosen. Lexa leaned forward, her expression a mix of anticipation and apprehension.

The silence stretched, broken only by the soft sound of Y/N's footsteps as she paced the room, the click of her boots echoing the rapid beat of her racing mind.

As she spoke of her findings, the space between them seemed to shrink, the distance bridged by shared secrets and unspoken truths. The dance of words and emotions played out in the quiet expanse of the room, a delicate balance of power and vulnerability.

Once she finished her account, Lexa rose from her seat. Y/N observed the subtle shift in her body language, noting the resolute set of her jaw and the firmness of her posture.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention," Lexa said. "We must deal with these invaders if we are to protect our city from chaos."

…

Y/N rode on horseback through the lush, green woods, the earthy scent of pine filled her nostrils, mingling with the sweet fragrance of wildflowers.

The sunlight filtered through the forest canopy above, casting a warm, golden glow upon the trail as she journeyed down familiar paths - passing by small villages nestled amongst the trees.

She couldn't help but smile as she passed by, exchanging friendly nods with the villagers who went about their daily tasks. Y/n had been away from home for some time and was eager to return.

The steady clop of hooves marked the miles melting away as the trees thinned. She spotted her modest log cabin in the distance, its weathered exterior a welcoming sight against the backdrop of the forest.

Reaching the edge of the property, y/n hopped down from her steed, her boots sinking into the soft earth beneath her feet. With a gentle pat on her horse's neck, she released him to graze freely, knowing he would find his way back to the stable when he was ready.

Y/N took a moment to close her eyes and breathe deeply, cherishing the scent of pine and wildflowers. It was good to be back. She hitched up her pack and strode towards the front door, the familiar scent of aged wood enveloped her, a comforting embrace that welcomed her home.

Setting her pack aside, she moved with purpose to the corner where her woodworking bench stood. With practiced hands, she began to carve arrows, the rhythmic scrape of the blade against wood echoing in the cozy confines of the cabin.

the moonlight filtering through the canopy above cast eerie shadows on the forest floor. The night was still. Heading out into the night to gather firewood had become a routine for Y/N, a solitary task that allowed her moments of quiet reflection amidst the whispering trees. Tonight, however, a feeling that prickled at the back of her neck as she navigated the winding path.

y/n began to gather the fallen branches, a sudden sound shattered the silence. The unmistakable sound of running feet echoed through the trees, sending a shiver down Y/N's spine. Instinctively, she dropped the firewood and reached for the dagger she always kept strapped to her side.

Moving cautiously towards the source of the noise, Y/N's senses heightened, every rustle and snap of a twig magnified in the stillness of the night.

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest as she approached a clearing, the moonlight revealing a figure hunched over, gasping for breath against a gnarled tree trunk.

Drawing closer, Y/N's eyes widened in surprise as she recognized the figure of a boy, his face contorted in pain and exhaustion. His clothes were torn and dirt-streaked, his hands clutching at the rough bark for support.

"Who are you?" Y/N's voice cut through the night, a mixture of concern and caution lacing her words. The boy looked up, his eyes wide with fear and desperation, a silent plea for help etched in his gaze.

Her body subtly leaned forward, indicating her readiness to assist if needed, while her hands hovered near her sides, poised to react to any sudden movements.

The moonlight bathed them in its silvery glow, Y/N and the mysterious boy stood facing each other in the heart of the forest, the boy steadied himself, before sucking in a breath and speaking.

"I could ask you the same thing.” He replied, the boy's voice was deep and raspy, his words were slow and deliberate, as if he was rehearsing a speech.

Their gaze locked in a silent standoff, a sudden eruption of yells in the trig language pierced the stillness of the woods. Y/N huffed, a hint of sarcasm coloring her tone. "Those your friends?" she quipped, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips. John shook his head.

Undeterred, Y/N pressed on, her voice firm yet tinged with intrigue, the trees towered above her, their branches creaking ominously in the gentle breeze.

"Who are you?" she asked, her curiosity driving her forward. The rustling leaves and distant echoes of the forest seemed to hold their breath, waiting for John's response.

After a moment of hesitation, John relented. "My name is John," he admitted. His voice was calm now, yet his eyes were a little wild. He looked like the man who had been on the verge of being killed, his head bowed in prayer.

"I can help you, John," she said, Y/n felt a shiver run down her spine as she looked into John's eyes. They were deep and piercing, like two black holes that seemed to suck her in. She couldn't look away, even though she knew she should.

John hesitated, unsure if he could trust her. But the thought of surviving in this harsh new world was too tempting to resist. "Okay," he said, his eyes darting between y/n and the area where the voices came from.

"I'll follow you." He approached her cautiously, keeping a safe distance. Y/n nodded, a look of satisfaction on her face. "Good," she said. "Let’s go."

…

Y/N and Murphy made their way back to her cabin, the shadows of the forest casting long, eerie shapes on the path ahead. "I need you to help me gather resources," she said.

"Food, water, weapons. Whatever I need to keep me alive. And in return, I will keep you safe from my people." She stated, looking back at Murphy as she climbed the steps to her door.

John nodded, his heart racing but he knew he had no choice. "Yes," he said, his voice firm. "I'll do it. Whatever it takes." Y/n could tell he wasn’t sure about his own agreement but kept walking anyway, opening the rusty door and entering.

Murphy hesitated at the threshold, his eyes scanning the surroundings warily, a flicker of fear betraying his tough exterior.

Y/N chuckled softly, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Come on, it's not a trap," she reassured him, her voice warm and inviting. Murphy stepped inside, the cozy interior of the cabin enveloping him in a sense of unexpected comfort.

The aroma of cooking rabbit wafted through the air, a tantalizing scent that stirred memories of simpler times with her family. Y/N moved with practiced ease around the small kitchen, spooning steaming stew into an old wooden bowl before handing it to Murphy.

He accepted the bowl gratefully, the hunger evident in the way he practically inhaled the hearty meal. Y/N watched him silently, her gaze lingering on his worn appearance and the shadows that clouded his eyes.

"What happened to you, John?" she asked, her voice soft yet probing. The question hung in the air, laden with unspoken implications.

Murphy paused, setting down the bowl with a nonchalant shrug. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you.” he replied through gritted teeth. “Let's just say I've had better days."

…

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