#He would have loved to paint her in that moment. Her eyes brighter and more mesmerizing than any aurora borealis
Text
𝜗𝜚 𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐓𝐋𝐄
🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ ‘ truth, dare, spin bottles you know how to ball, i know aristotle. ‘
𝜗𝜚… previous chapter - next chapter
𝜗𝜚… summary , ( f!verstappen!y/n x lando norris ) y/n is the younger sister of world champion max verstappen and an author known for her young adult romance novels despite never being in a relationship herself. lando norris is a formula one driver and is secretly an old friend and a fan of her books since 2020.
𝜗𝜚… faceclaim , brooke flecca
𝜗𝜚… triggers , none I don't think (maybe some cursing)
𝜗𝜚… authors note , thank you so much for 100 followers!! new driver series coming out soon based on an album ( I'll be making a fic for a diff driver based on each song )
🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ masterlist
the drive there had been relatively calm. it wasn’t awkward though, y/n and lando had known each other for years, despite not talking for the past two . the conversation was laced with nostalgia as they reminisced on his rookie year, when she went to every race and he’d been convinced she was his “lucky charm”
the air outside was warm with a flowy cool breeze, australian autumns were always nice and provided a small comfort to the girl who’d appreciated the weather.
the club they’d gone to, however, was packed and it felt suffocating. y/n was never the one for clubs, she liked people, she liked dancing and music. but putting them together with a mix of alcohol and drugs never was something she enjoyed. (her brother on the other hand was the opposite)
she’d hung back near the bar slowly sipping on a sprite. she never drank alcohol; it was a personal preference, she hated the feeling of being out of control. lando had picked up drinking since the last time they’d saw each other, he was partying his little heart out with their friends now.
y/n hung back watching him with a sorta fondness in her eyes, the scene was beautiful to her, romanticizing the true happiness he was experiencing to ignore how claustrophobic she was feeling. and how she’d been picking at the skin around her nails and the pit in her stomach.
lando seemed to almost hear her cry for help, as he left the dance floor and walked over to her. she assumed to order another drink since he’d only had one. “you alright?”
y/n nodded but her mouth spoke differently, forever honest. “I feel like i‘m suffocating a bit, if i’m honest.” she admitted cringing as soon as she said it.
lando understood, but she knew he would. he helped out his hand, “then shall we?”
she furrowed an eyebrow and with pursed lips her eyes flicked up and down to his hand and then back to him. “shall we what?”
“bail.”
“you were having fun, I'm a grown woman. if I wanna leave, I will.” y/n reassured guilt filling up her throat.
lando shook his head with a small grin that he always seemed to adorn. “oh c’mon I invited you, I'm here to spend time with you anyway.”
hesitantly the dutch girl took his hand and they hurried out of the bar, met with fresh air at last and a chill of the night. it felt a bit silly but y/n thought about writing a book in this moment, she thought about how she’d described the scene, how the two old friends reconnecting would turn into something more.
she knew it was only a fantasy, all her books were. picturesque moments painted carefully by her hands, nothing that’d happen in real life. especially to her. she’d been confident in herself but she’d come to terms on how unsuccessful her love life had been. she was twenty-three and hadn’t dated a single person, not one out of the eight billion people on this earth.
so she’d lost hope. lando shouldn’t give her hope, she knew no one would ever follow through with it. she had enough self respect to stop trying to chase false dreams.
they’d been walking down the street of melbourne for a few minutes now in a comfortable silence though she’d been surprised lando managed to keep his mouth shut this long. the sky was clear, the stars brighter than she’d seen in a while, the streets were practically empty and the air smelt of saltwater.
“where are you taking me?” y/n asked realizing they’d passed lando’s car a couple minutes back.
lando looked at her, “do you not trust me?”
she pretended to think about it for a moment before meeting his gaze which remained on her. “haven't seen you in two years, maybe you've changed.”
he really had. he’d changed so much but somehow not at all, “you definitely have.” lando seemed to backtrack in his mind as his words came out as an insult. “in a good way I mean, I’ve just missed you.”
he missed her. maybe it’d been her chronic loneliness talking but she hadn’t heard those words from anyone in years. she looked down at her feet, a small smile growing on her face. “I missed you too, a lot.”
“why didn’t you call or text, I swear I would’ve thought you died if not for your instagram.” lando wasn’t mad or at least he didn’t sound it, still y/n was embarrassed there was no reason for her to fall off the face of earth like she did, maybe she was just destined to be lonely and needed to prove she could do it. maybe that didn’t need two years to prove, she’d been proving it for twenty-two years.
“I’m not mad, I’m just happy to see my idol again.” he bumped into her shoulder with a smirk.
y/n giggled looking at him unconvinced. “your idol?”
lando nodded, “I'm your biggest fan, don't you know?”
“mhm of course I knew, reading august in two days must’ve been a new record.” the day lando commented on her instagram post saying he’d pre-ordered her book, she’d gone to her records of past books. he’d bought every book she’d ever read. every single one. even the special edition covers she’d published.
never had anyone done a gesture like that for her. sure it might’ve been just because he’d like to read, but y/n wanted to live in a bliss where he did it for her.
watching the view change in front of her as they continued down the street she recognized where they’d been walking to. the beach. once they’d reached the place where the concrete ended and sand started. they both took off their shoes, lando grabbed hers holding them for her.
the sand was soft to the touch, the beach was empty now and spanned for miles. waves crashed down onto the sand in a nice pattern of noise. it was pitch black except the moon which provided a nice soft light into the water far out. the breeze felt stronger here, y/n crossed her arms struggling to provide warmth to her bare arms.
the pair had taken a seat on the slightly wet part of the sand closer to the water. “it’s beautiful out here.” she commented. “like some shit you’d see in a rom-com.” a genre she knew too much about.
“is this the part where I tell you you’re the only girl I’ve taken here?” lando said looking at her she could hear the smirk in his voice.
y/n let out a laugh. “is this the part where I act surprised because you’re known for being such a ‘player’?”
“I’ll do the whole yawn and arm over shoulder thing if you want, make this really realistic.” lando took off his black hoodie revealing a matching black t-shirt underneath. “here by the way.”
he handed her the hoodie, “oh I’m fine.” she very clearly was not. she wanted to tell him to stop her some kind of hope, to not make her fall for him as she was now.
“you so are not, you’re shivering and it’s freaking me out.” y/n wasn’t sure if she should’ve said thank you or been offended by ‘freaking him out’. she took the hoodie, it was soft fabric and smelt of his cologne, which smelt expensive.
she put the hoodie on, relieved by the warmth she suddenly felt. after a while of chatting and laughing about stupid things like they used to, y/n comfortably rested her head on his shoulder, eyes feeling the need to shut but they wouldn’t like she wanted to be conscious for every moment of this, knowing she’d miss his comfort as soon as it was gone.
“do you have to wake up for your flight early tomorrow.” he asked, his voice soft and he cautiously started to run his fingers through her hair, until she’d relaxed more and he was more confident with his innocent touches.
“mhm.” she mumbled.
he carefully brushed the few knots in her hair, “should I take you home then it's getting late.”
everything in her body was telling her to stay no, to stay there, she never wanted to leave. but her mind spoke differently, she had a book signing tomorrow she couldn’t miss her flight nor could she be too tired. she replied again, more disappointed than before, “yeah probably.”
𝜗𝜚˖ ࣪₊˚ yourusername posted
liked by yourbestfriend, mclaren, oscarpiastri and 856,756 others
yourusername last night in aus was well spent 🫶
tagged | @landonorris
view comments
user34 OH the lando & y/n girlies are screaming rn
yourbestfriend oh my god you finally went outside 🤯
landonorris gotta make sure she gets some vitamin c every once in awhile
user54 i just know twt is going crazy
landonorris hope to see you in japan 🙏🫣
yourusername we’ll see 🤭
maxverstappen as a redbull fan I hope
user89 we are all living for your active era rn
user21 all her f1 posts having lando in them is making me cry they’re everything to me
user54 I’m getting 2019 lando y/n flashbacks
your bsf 🫶 sent you a text!
𝜗𝜚 ˖ ࣪₊˚ yourusername posted a story
seen by maxverstappen, lilymhe, davidmalukas and 645,765 others
landonorris replied to your story
𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹ landonorris posted
liked by maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, yourusername and 972,342 others
landonorris another race done onto japan we go 😉 ( featuring special guest my celebrity crush )
tagged | @landonorris
view comments
yourusername omg I love when I see my fan pages in the wild 🤭
landonorris ok babe don’t push it 🥰
user53 babe?!!!
user76 they’re so in love it hurts
user32 getting his first podium of the season while she’s there she really is his lucky charm
user98 HIS LUCKY CHARM 😭😭
mclaren y/n should come to more races best race result so far nice job!
user43 even mclaren loves them 🙏
user58 their actually my faves
carlossainz I think I’m your idol actually 🤔
landonorris whatever helps you sleep at night
𝜗𝜚… tags , @whitcferrari @cedarbcws @c-losur3 @lclitaa @forurforeverwinter @stinkyjax @littlexscarletxwitch @spideybv28 @ijustgomessitupx
#𝜗𝜚˖ ࣪₊˚ soamericns works!#f1#formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#formula one fic#formula one#lando norris#lando x reader#mclaren formula 1#lando norris x reader#mclaren#ln4#mclaren f1#ttpd#taylor swift
255 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Veil is thin tonight-
-Can you feel it on your skin?
Tingling?
Ink and fineliner on paper
Available as Print
#Solas and Lavellan siting in a tree... uh window#k i s s i n g#Kidding. They are only sharing longing looks while playing with mage lights#while Solas is trying to distract her by slowly caressing her ankle with his thumb because ofcourse he has some ancient tricks up his sleev#He likes to see how the light fragments stick to Lavellan's hair. Like the stars are part of her#like like she is his sky and universe#He entertains her with tales of the lights that use to dance through the sky in Arlathan. Wondering what she would think of all the colors#He would have loved to paint her in that moment. Her eyes brighter and more mesmerizing than any aurora borealis#But they didn't have forever#The first signs of dawn were slowly creeping over the horizon. And with it the promise of new challenges#more quests and piles of paperwork#Courtesy of Josie#solasmance#solavellan#solavellan hell#solas dragon age#inquisitor lavellan#solas x lavellan#solavellan art#dragon age#dragon age fanart#dragon age inquisition#da fanart#da art#fanart#traditional media#da: dreadwolf#solas romance#Daze Chroma#my art
428 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Can I tell you something?"
The girl sat by the campfire, lazily stoking it with a stick doesn't remove her gaze from the licks of flame. "Depends. Are you going to give me an explanation as to why we're here?"
"I—," you sputter out the short noise before clamping your mouth shut. It'd be better if you showed her. She pokes at the crumbling logs again, a dance of embers bursting upwards in drifting spirals.
"Because I know we're not here just to camp," she continues, eyes tracking upwards with the glowing specks. "You've been anxious as fuck since we arrived. I have eyes. Your fingernails look like shit with all that biting." Ah, fuck.
"W-well, it's something you should really know about me." You shuffle between the fire and the foldable chair placed beside it, eyes stinging as you catch a face full of smoke on your way to her side. You take a knee on ashy soil, still slightly damp from showers the prior day, and steady yourself with your hands.
She doesn't look at you. You dig your fingers into the dirt.
"You know what I've been thinking this is," she finally asks after a prolonged moment.
"What, hun?"
"The moment since we've got here, I've been thinking, 'This is it. This is the part where he breaks up with me.' I been thinking this is your intricate, fucked up way of separating." She waves her free hand in the air, continuing, "And how would I know! I can barely tell what's on your mind most of the time!"
That's not what this is. Not at all. Your heart breaks to even comprehend she's felt like this.
Perhaps it shows on your face because she gives you a peculiar side-glance, eyes glinting with curiosity.
"No!" You reach for her but she flinches, your hand halting in place mid-reach, going slightly limp. Softer, "no, that's not it. Why would I—"
"You're a mirror."
The first time she says it, it sounds like a profound realization.
Silence. The crackle of fire, the chirping of night critters, the cacophony hiss of wind swept tree branches, gone. She sits there, an infinite stare piercing the flames once more.
"What?"
"A mirror. You take on the mannerisms, the patterns, the emotions that others show you, and give it right back." She hangs her head low to the dirt as if she's espousing some fatal truth. "It makes you so easy to love but impossible to know.
"Because, love? Your mirror is cracked. I've known you long enough to tell it isn't you.
"And that was okay for a while. It was so simple to be with you... until the past month.
"You've grown distant and quiet, and I'm worried that you've been a mirror for so long that you haven't noticed your cracks were growing to the point of you being unable to reflect me anymore.
"I'd like to know what lies behind the broken shards but...
Is there anything even there?
Her head turns to you, golden fire-lit eyes landing on your face. You can see your perfectly blank face reflected in them. Hairline cracks decorate your face in an intricate web, crumbling shards falling from your glassy cheeks.
Your hands find their way to your face, fingers landing on the smooth surface with a hard clink. More cracks form at the points of contact, branching to other splits in the material of your smooth skin and knocking more shards loose.
The dirt beneath you is littered with ash and glass. Pieces of you, sharp and fractured, sunken into the earth. Your glass fingers try to pluck the shards out of the ground but only manage to break them further, chipping away at intricately painted details of soft skin and nails bitten away to the false skin. Soon your struggling to bend your fingers at all, stiff as can be in a straightforward posture.
Soft, fleshy fingers gently grab your flaking chin. She turns your emotionless face towards her. Her eyes glow brighter, no longer permitting reflection.
"I'm sorry." A hand is placed upon your chest, just over your heart. "It's too late to go back, you already saw it..."
Another hand combs through the thin glass hairs on your head, shearing them off as she goes. A soft smile tugs at her lips as she says, "but it'll be okay. I've been here before too you know."
She pushes with an inhuman force upon your chest...
And your glass shell shatters.
Emptiness prevails in the sensation of your chest, a million shards falling inwards and disappearing into your void. The gaping hole spreads further as your internal gravity wins over the failing integrity of your body.
Before you, a known but undefined entity kneels onto the dirt with you, in a body of its own design. Her perfectly crafted hands place themselves upon your cracked thighs, thumbs gently tracing circles over the smooth surface. She leans forward, lips next to your broken left ear, its top half snapped off. She speaks in a voice she spent much time perfecting.
"It's almost done, sweetest. Just know I'll love you, whatever you decide to be without your shell. I'll be by your side."
With a quick movement, she shifts all of her immense, impossible weight into the hands on your thighs. They shatter instantly, and take the lower legs and feet folded beneath with them, shards falling upwards into your core. All that remains of you after a few moments is a wispy void. And then...
"Oh. Gorgeous."
An ember from the campfire strays from its upwards path, drifting towards the void of you.
And then another.
And another.
Unlike your shattered shell, these embers do not flicker out of existence in your gravity well. Instead, they begin to wrap around your core in a tight orbit.
The campfire dims as the void of you draws out bursting flecks of glowing carbon, drawing more and more into your orbit, until you are just a sphere of spinning ember light. A sparking fire ball of potential.
Potential. You can feel liquid potential circling around you, currently formless. Potential you can control, shape and mold into whatever the void of you desires. You're not sure what to make of it.
"Whatever you want. This is for no one else but you. Don't hold back," your loving entity replies to your wordless question.
You begin with a small movement. An arc of flame goes wide of the sphere before falling back into the fold. Okay. Maybe you can put more strength behind it.
A minor explosion is the result of that effort, as you learn the extent of your shaping strength. The entity leaps back, a few nasty embers leaving burns across her skin, which are quickly overtaken by a golden glow from inside that fades back into unblemished epidermis. You feel larger, embers leaping off of molten liquid hissing and bubbling in the brisk air.
"Okay, now shape it!"
For lack of a better template at the moment, you try to form the liquid with invisible hands into curves just like the contours of her body. The torso comes into definition, followed by limbs shooting out, and finally a head filling out a rather obvious replication of her, made of the caustic liquid. Your molten feet touch the ground, boiling the water trapped in the soil beneath into steam.
A bubbly laugh comes from her. You look up from your glowing body to see her head thrown back. She's actually crying of laughter, what the hell? She said anything!
You place liquid hands upon your liquid hips, annoyed at the obvious judgement of your choice of form, which only serves to make her double over again.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, it's just..." she pauses to wipe a tear from her eye. "I should have expected you'd try to be me first! Shattered one mirror for another, eh?"
Another bout of laughter. You'd consider her an ass if it wasn't so cute. Well, no, she is an ass, but a cute one at least. This sudden flow of emotion-laden thought comes with new curiosities.
You look down at your body once again, and decide you like its curves, but start to make simple alterations. Simple begins with changing your height, material expanding with a deep thrum and burst of heat until you're towering over her.
"Wow, that's like, a lot more than professional athlete height!" The comment wavers in tone, as if the size is affecting her. You lean in close and her face turns red—and not just from the orange glow of your molten body.
Having had your fun with height, you shrink back with a sharp hiss of escaping pressure and heat, much to her apparent disappointment. There are other things you try, like proportions and weight, but some things stay the same, like having breasts, which feel so right it feels wrong. You make this form your own.
It's pretty clear that you've settled on a feminine body, which makes so much sense to a certain part of you. You are a bit tired of being a humanoid light bulb though.
"We can work on that now. Imagine what you want to be made of, and reach for it."
The lava that makes you starts to cool off, flickering light ebbing away to dark basalt. You feel it crack and reform as you bend your arm at the elbow. A new idea strikes you, and before long, the rock crumbles away all across your body as if it were just a thin crust, revealing a shiny metal skin beneath. Neat.
After definitely not an abundance of playing around with this (you really liked being a sentient humanoid water thing, that was cool), you returned to what you knew best, with human skin and hair.
You test your voice for the first time, a feminine lilt, saying, "what happens now? Once I find what I want to be, will I be stuck like that forever?" The lightness of your tone gives you a fluttery feeling in your chest.
Her hands find her way onto your hips as she pulls you close. "That's the best part. What we want to be isn't a static thing," she says. "As we grow, as we learn, as we experience, what we want to he changes. You and I are gifted with the knowledge that we are malleable things. Entities of change. One's who can embrace it with no restriction."
You look at your hand, you shape it. Scales chase up the wrist and previously bitten down nails slide out into avian talons. You flip it over, and in the midst of the motion consider another form. Tufts of fur burst from the gaps between scales, and leathery pads swell upon your fingers and palms. The talons shrink back into canine claws, that you could easily imagine digging into the dirt to pull you into a sprint.
You let it return to a human shape as you look back at her, emotions overwhelming you.
"I had something I wanted to tell you," you say, tears pooling in your eyes. She tips her head forward, your foreheads touching. "I think... I'm a girl..."
"I know, baby. I know you are."
She wraps you in her arms as you let it all out, sobbing into her neck. She doesn't let you go even as the campfire simmers and cracks, no more flames licking up into the sky. She doesn't let you go as the night critters resume their chirping. She doesn't let you go as the wind swept trees bristle under the growing light of dawn.
Not even as you both let sleep take you, no more mirrors and broken shells keeping you apart.
450 notes
·
View notes
Text
The lucid moments of Queen Charlotte & King George:
they sometimes hide from the heavens under the bed and George asks how their kingdom is doing. Charlotte quietly confesses how sometimes, the world seems to close in on her too & she feels like she might just hide from the heavens forever. George cradles her hand whispers lovingly:"You've always been the stronger one of us." Charlotte:"Only because you gave me half of your strength."
George sometimes escapes his confinement and bursts into meetings, but he's lucid. Charlotte is momentarily stunned, but relaxes when George speaks normally with the higher members of the ton. She smiles and watches her husband, the king, attend to his duties. In these little moments, she feels like the paintings didn't have to add George in later, she feels like he was there all along for the still sitting.
George still goes to the fields, he's old now, but he can pick at the weeds and plant some vegetables at least. Brimsely swore he would always attend to Her Majesty the Queen, but whenever her husband is outside, he temporarily serves the King, on orders of Her Majesty. Brimsely knows the Queen trusts him above all to protect her king in Reynold's place
George sometimes draws her, draws her face, his artistic skill curiously weakens when he's of sound mind, but Charlotte doesn't seem too offended when she spies her likeness on their wall. She smiles brighter than the sun
They reminiscent of their youth together, George remarks on the make of Charlotte's dresses, they look just like they had when they were younger. Charlotte is too prideful to admit she still orders these dresses to be made because it's the only thing of George she can have with her everyday to keep her grounde
Amelia's passing wounded everyone deeply, George had still been lucid enough to have learned of it, which ultimately crumbled the pieces of his sanity over time. His lucid moments grew fewer and farther in between and Charlotte felt like she had not only lost a daughter, but her husband as well
George has his observatory in his residence at Kew, and sometimes when he gazes at the stars and searches for a glimpse of Venus, his clarity returns with full force. In those moments, he quickly writes down whatever thoughts flood his clear mind, to not forget them, forget that deep down in his madness, there is still a man. Charlotte occasionally visits his observatory and she always checks his journals for new notes. Little things he intended to remember. The names of all their children and their birthdays. Thoughts of Charlotte and how much he misses her. Most of them speak of Venus, how much he loves and adores her. The Queen learned early on that Venus has quite a few names. The Great Star. Goddess of Love. Charlotte. Lottie. And sometimes, his Queen.
"Tell me, Lottie, how are the gardens?". She smiles, "In full bloom, my dear.". There was an uncharacteristically but not unfamiliar grin on the king's face. "And tell me... how is your garden?" Charlotte laughed, spying the mischievous twinkle in her husband's eye. "It definitely could use some tending. Some watering. Some fierce plowing." Brimsely knew better than anyone to immediately send the guards and attendants away once the Queen hitched up her skirts and moved over to sit on the King's lap.
"I'm sorry, my dear Lottie." George spoke softly into their quiet bedroom. Charlotte tried to discern his expression through the darkness. "Whatever for, George?". George sighed deeply, "For not giving you as much comfort and support as you do for me, once my mind wanders again.". Charlotte can only hold her husband close to her and kiss his forehead, whispering softly into his thinning hair. "You do give me comfort, my dear. So much."
George often has nightmares during the night, whenever he calls for his attendants, more often than not, it's his wife that hurries to his bedside. She always manages to quench his demons. He's heard the whispers in the halls, about how cruel and cold his queen was. But not to him. To him, she was soft and warm. Oh, so warm.
At the birth of their last child, George worries for Charlotte's health and urges her to not have anymore babies. She tries to argue with him, but George snaps:"We have enough heirs! I know what it is that you try to do, I know my...my madness may pass down to any one of our children, but if I were to lose you while you give birth to another child madness shall consume us all! What shall I do mad with fourteen children to care for instead of enjoying the moments I have left with you by my side?"
George sometimes reads manuscripts of the love stories between older kings and their queens, he sometimes forgets them and discovers them anew, but he always remembers what each of these stories lacked to him. None of these love stories could come close to describe the endless well of love he harbors for his wife, in madness and in sanity.
Charlotte finds reading poems to be a waste of her time, but she keeps the small, crumpled pieces of papers very close to her heart. The handwriting is not always neat, not always eligible, but she knew them all by heart anyway. Even though he may not be physically near her, Charlotte knew she was never alone in ruling their kingdom with George's heartfelt poems tucked safely into the sleeves of her dress.
They sometimes run into each-other in the kitchen at night, it's always a fright at first, Charlotte doesn't know if George is in his right mind, but he always quells her fears with a boyish smile. "Fancy meeting you here, my queen. Care for some of the best pudding in all of Britain?" Charlotte smiles, her eyes misty. "Oh, you old fool. You'll upset your stomach if you continue eating pudding every night.". George caressed her cheek. "That never stopped you before, has it?" Charlotte sighed. "Oh, just give me that spoon."
Sometimes, in his calm state of mind, George wonders if his body subconsciously enters into madness on purpose. Not to drive him mad, no, a much simpler reason. Sometimes, George wonders if he falls back into madness because he knows if he does, Charlotte would always come to visit and spend time with him. Somewhere in the deepest corners of his mind, George doesn't mind being called the Mad King if it meant spending time with his dear wife.
Charlotte is Queen during the day, but when she visits George at night, she turns young again, the ache in her bones recedes and she's just a simple maiden with her farmer. Just Charlotte. Just George. Just them.
#bridgerton#bridgerton headcanons#queen charlotte spoilers#queen charlotte a bridgerton story#queen charlotte x king george#queen charlotte#king george iii#king george#charlotte x george#chatty charinette#my fic#my fics
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Now That We Don't Talk | Frank Castle x F!Reader
BONUS FIC
See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!
Read Is It Over Now? for better clarity.
Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader (past Matt Murdock x F!Reader)
Summary: You go home with the guy from the bar, and he makes you forget about your ex.
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "attagirl", slight Dom!Frank, song references, unprotected p in v, dirty talk
Word Count: 2.9k
A/n: You wanted a part 2, so you're getting a part 2! Anyway, I don't write Frank often, so I hope it isn't too bad. It's also not as spicy as you probably expected, but I wanted this to fit the vibe of the previous fic (link above). You don't need to have read it to understand this, but it is highly recommended because some references might confuse you. Thank you all for taking part in this event!
You believed that your life had ended when you lost him. He painted your world in the brightest colors, but by breaking your heart, he took them away. All that was left to see was a boring shade of gray in a sea of sadness.
Matt told you from the start that being with him wouldn’t be easy. You were willing to try. He needed someone, and you wanted to be that someone to him. You accepted him unconditionally.
In the end, giving everything wasn’t enough. He chose her over you, and the castle you two had built came crashing down on you while he stood idly by.
You’re not a bitter person, you have never been, but he made you fall for him; he made you believe that there was hope for the future and that you would grow old together. He stole years of your life in which you were trying to save him from himself. In return, he took the best care of you, but that doesn’t matter much now that he has taken your heart and shattered it like a glass of red wine on a white cloth.
When you left him, you thought the distance would kill you. You truly believed that this was the end of everything, not just your relationship with the man you thought was the one but yourself as well. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he said the day you found out the ugly truth.
“I trusted you,” you remember saying. You couldn’t even cry. The pain burned brighter than the sun, and it dried your eyes before they could even shed a tear.
He argued with you that, “It was just a kiss,” but you not once believed him.
“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause if I ask Elektra, I’m sure she will tell me the truth.”
“No.”
It was at that moment you lost all of your trust in him—in what could have been or should have been the two of you, forever—and it was also the moment that Matt realized he had lost you.
You believed that he took everything you ever were that day because your life revolved around him, and only him.
You remember him opening his mouth, having the audacity to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said, begging you not to leave.
“Fuck you!” you had never sworn at him until that day.
You still remember the way the necklace with his initial felt when you tore it off your neck and tossed it at his feet. He knew you better than anyone, and you felt like you finally belonged somewhere. That necklace was a symbol of your undying love, or so you thought, anyway. Now you know that he may have known you to some extent, but you didn’t matter enough for him not to climb into bed with his ex-girlfriend.
You couldn’t even look at the necklace. He told you, “This is a piece of my heart,” when he gave it to you on a snowy Christmas Day three years ago. You cherished it the same way you cherished his soul. He was broken, but he was your broken man. He was everything to you.
Matt Murdock was your moon, your son, and your entire universe. It all seemed far away that you could ever feel about anyone this way again.
You saw a future with him. Married, a house in the suburbs, and working with Foggy and Karen in their new law office after everything they’ve been through. You were a hopeful person back then.
Karen told you that he went to a party a couple of weeks after you separated. He didn’t look like himself. You wonder if he felt anxious, knowing his only source of comfort was no longer there. You wouldn’t know until you asked him, but you refused to answer his calls.
Part of you felt euphoric, knowing that he was broken too, but you also felt angry because he was the reason you found your heart beyond repair as he stepped on it like a burning cigarette, and in your mind, he had no right to feel this way.
You’re a fucking traitor, Matthew Murdock! I wish we’d never met.
“Another one for the lady,” a voice says beside you.
Your empty glass of tequila disappears and a full one slides in its place. In your drunken haze, you see a head of brown hair, and his smirk makes you wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on.
“Thank you,” you murmur, tipping your glass to the stranger.
“Nah, don’t thank me.” He gets up from his seat and sits down on the empty bar stool next to you. “You look miserable,” he says.
“What if I am?”
“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”
You huff but offer the stranger your hand. You introduce yourself.
He smiles. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. “Frank,” he introduces himself in return. “Castle.”
“Nice to meet you,” you say.
You thought nothing and no one could pull you out of the dark hole your breakup tossed you into. You believed yourself dead and long beyond the point of redemption. You accepted it. You swallowed in your misery, giving up on finding a new purpose in your life because the one great thing you had was no longer yours. He fell into a grave that he dug for himself, and he dragged your relationship down with him.
Looking into Frank’s eyes now though, you no longer feel like a corpse. And you realize that you are not dead, not at all—you are very much alive.
The door almost breaks off its hinges when Frank shoves you into his apartment and back against it. The decision to come back to his place was fueled by a lot of alcohol and the way he looked at you. You were desperate to feel something other than the hollow ache that has consumed you every day for months. His eyes told you that he may be able to give you just what you need, no strings attached.
The way he kisses you breathes new life into your mangled soul. He swallows your mouth and your needy moans with his own, and his tongue forces itself down your throat as your teeth clash in a fight for dominance. You’re both tipsy, but he seems to know just what he’s doing.
His calloused fingers burn against your skin. In the back of your mind, Matt is still so present. His hands are the ones you can’t help but compare him to.
The way he used to kiss you before fucking you into the mattress for hours on end, switching between tasting and fingering you until you were whimpering and begging him for release might have screwed you up forever. He told you one night that he wanted to ruin you for any other man. Back then, you both still believed that you would grow old together.
It is truly ironic how fast things change when you are truly happy and believe that nothing can burst your bubble.
Frank’s large hands brace against the door on either side of your head. His lips disappear from yours. “Who is he?” he asks, his voice rough like gravel.
You meet his eyes, unsure of what to say. Your mind is everywhere but here, and yet it is right with him. Whether it is alcohol or self-loathing, you’re not sure.
“What?” you whisper.
“You’re trynna forget someone. Who is it?”
He is a lot more perceptive than you thought.
You swallow, blood rushing to your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–” you didn’t what? Think? You feel utterly pathetic.
Instead of throwing you out though, like you expected he would, he reaches out to caress your cheek. His eyes soften as they gaze at you. “Whoever he is, he obviously didn’t treat you right,” he says. “If you want to go, I’m not stoppin’ you, but if you wanna forget whoever is fuckin’ with your head, I’ll make damn sure you forget his name by the end of tonight.”
There is something excitingly terrifying about the look in his eyes. A shiver runs down your spine, and your thighs clench at the thought of feeling his hands somewhere other than your face. Somewhere other than your hips and thighs. His kisses knocked the air out of your lungs. You want more, you need more, but you don’t know if you can take it. Not him—even though you’re also not quite sure if you can take him—but also the offer he is presenting to you. As lucrative as it sounds, fuck, you are not over Matt. And you’re not sure if you can ever forget him.
You want to though. You have to. And you want to be thoroughly fucked into the next day and forget the name of the man that makes you so fucking angry.
“Talk to me,” Frank coaxes your head toward him. “Do you wanna forget the useless bastard that made you feel this way?”
“Yes,” you manage a breathless whisper.
“Did he hurt you? Break your heart?”
You nod.
“You deserve better.” His grip tightens, and his hand slowly slides to your neck. “I’m not, but I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll forget his name and scream mine loud enough for this fuckin’ city to know who’s making you feel good. ‘s that what you want, hm?”
He’s dangerous, but that has never turned you off, even when it should have.
And when you finally open your mouth and tell him, “Yes, please. Make me forget,” the switch inside of him flicks completely.
He takes his time to worship between your thighs. His tongue buried in your pussy, his lips sucking on your clit without mercy. He eats you out roughly but sensually, keeping you spread wide open for him with both of his hands and a force unmatched—like a five-course meal, and he has all the time in the world for you.
You’re lost in the throes of pleasure. You want to buck your hips against his mouth because no matter what he does, you’re on fire and you just can’t get enough, but he is so powerful that you can’t fight him. He has you at his mercy, your body in his hands, and all the control in the world over you.
You pull at his hair, moaning helplessly as he feasts on your pussy. You’re going mad, you’re sure. He’s doing this on purpose, driving you to the edge before stopping the wave. Frank waits until your orgasm is just far enough for you to last a little longer, kissing the inside of your thighs, and then he dives right back into your wet folds. He thrusts his tongue into your hole, licks up to your clit, and then sucks on the swollen bundle until your legs are shaking in his hands.
“Jesus, Frank!” you moan out. A trail of sweat runs from your temple down to your breasts.
Your hands search for something to hold onto, tangling in the sheets and the pillow behind your head before pulling at the fabric. You tried pulling at his hair, but he wouldn’t let you.
“That’s right,” he growls. “Come for me.”
Your back arches off the mattress. His name leaves your lips in a desperate shout as your orgasm crashes into you.
“Attagirl.”
Your brain is hulled into an endless fog, but Frank doesn’t stop.
Soon, you’re on your stomach, gripping the headboard as he pounds into you from behind. He is long and thick, and with every thrust, he forces your face deeper into the pillows. Your eyes have rolled back into your head. He hits that spongy spot inside of you whenever he pleases, and the gurgled moans from the pit of your throat spur him on to speed up, change the angle and thrust even deeper.
He pulls out all the way, thrusting back into you with full force until he is completely sheathed in your pussy. Your heat consumes him, and he sees red. But so do you. He has reduced you to a few incoherent thoughts, babbling his name in the wake of the drool that is dripping from the corner of your mouth.
And when you come this time, it is pulled back straight against his chest with his fingers rubbing circles over your already abused clit. You come with a scream of his name, and nothing else matters but his cum in your cunt and the unbelievable depth of the feelings he is eliciting within you.
You drop to the mattress like a wet towel, covered in his and your cum, and your sweat that has mingled with his. His smell lingers in the sheets as you bury your nose in it. He collapses on top of you. The crushing weight of him offers a sense of comfort that almost makes you cry. And he holds you as though you mean more to him than a One-Night stand he picked up to help forget a man who broke her heart.
“What’d he do?” Frank asks into the silence later that night.
You are lying on his bed, covered by only his thin sheets. He’s sitting on the other side, nursing a glass of Bourbon. He held you, he cleaned you up, and he offered you some clothes, which you denied. He is kinder to you than you thought he would be, and it warms your heart in a way you can only deem utterly dangerous with how vulnerable you are. Broken people make dumb decisions, and you do not ever want to go through the same pain again.
At least you know that you are still desired. That you’re not dead. Perhaps, there is still hope for a better future. You made Matt Murdock your life for the longest time, and maybe, as you realize now, that was a mistake. There is more to life than him, and you can live without him. That it took fucking a stranger after weeks of being miserable baffles you, but some things are just meant to happen. Maybe it was destiny, after all.
You look at him when Frank repeats his question. “What’d the bastard do, hm?” he asks.
Where do you even start?
When you last checked in on him through your mutual friends—you know it wasn’t the best choice, but you couldn’t help it—they told you that grew his beard, and he last had a haircut when you were still together. It suits him, apparently, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at a picture of him.
Foggy told you that he isn’t taking home girls when they go to a bar, even though he could have all of them. He’s sad. He drowns himself at work and beats his fist bloody every night. The old you would have jumped up to help him. And it is true that you will probably always love him, in a way, but you refuse to crawl back to him.
The more you gave, the more he took, and at the first chance at getting a woman he claimed to no longer love when she came back into your lives, he took her. He couldn’t have wanted you as badly as he claimed if that was enough for him to flush years of loving each other and going through hell together down the drain, knowing it would break your heart into a million pieces. That is probably the worst part about all of it.
You take a deep breath. Frank is still staring at you intently, waiting for an answer. “He fucked his ex,” you finally confess. “Four years of being together and it still wasn’t enough.”
His grip tightens around his glass. “Want me to pay him a visit?”
You chuckle, but you know that he would. “No. But thank you.”
Matt was fading long before you left. Even if you did choose to forgive him, you couldn’t be his friend, so things are better the way they are now. You paid the ultimate price for sacrificing your heart to a man who had too many struggles to deal with himself.
In the silence, you find a little light. “At least I don’t have to pretend to like Jazz anymore,” you say.
Frank takes another sip, asking, “Jazz?”
“Yeah, Jazz. He loves it. He…He’s special. Well, he was to me, anyway.”
“Special? Fuck, the guy did a number on you, huh?”
You scoff. “You have no idea.”
The only way back to your dignity is to learn how to be without him. You have to turn yourself back into a mystery and learn how to trust someone again before your fragile heart breaks again.
“You still talk?” Frank asks.
You shake your head. “No. It’s over now,” you say. “We don’t talk anymore.”
“Told ya. You deserve better.”
“Nah.” You reach for his glass, taking a sip of the bitter liquor that you used to despise. Looking up at him through hooded eyes, you stretch his leg toward him.
You need to keep forgetting Matt’s name, no matter what it takes or the reminiscing will surely kill you.
“Right now,” you murmur with an irresistible smirk that makes him leap at you as soon as the words pass your lips, “I just need to forget he ever existed by screaming someone else’s name.”
Frank captures your lips in a bruising kiss, leaving you speechless and breathless all the same.
Matt chased you, he caught you, and then he lost you. And now that Frank has you, you never want to look back.
Now that you don't talk.
I don't have a tag list for Frank, so I'm just leaving this here.
#frank castle x reader#frank castle x female reader#frank castle smut#frank castle#the punisher#matt murdock#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock angst#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock x you#frank castle x you#daredevil#charlie cox#from the vault#bonus fic#inspired by: now that we don't talk
251 notes
·
View notes
Note
TW(If you dont want to do it it's completely fine)
Can you do a adam x male reader where the reader is depressed because his life when he was living was shit and he thought it would be better but it still haunts him, and he starts to date adam and a few months into dating Adam saw reader SH and gets all sad but becomes more protective of reader and explains to reader how much he loves him and he bandages reader and they cuddle together(I love your writing BTW, you don't have to do this if you think it's shit)
I absolutely do not think it's shit, I hope I did it justice - as a person who suffers from depression myself this kinda is/was my view on the world. Really hope it's to your liking :3
Burning, I feel it too
pairing: Adam x male!reader
warnings: language, hurt/angst, suicidal thoughts, self harm
note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers
With him around, heaven seemed brighter. With him around your past life felt less heavy, the burdens you carried were easier to lift and he seemed to bring a reason to all of existence.
But when Adam wasn’t around for a couple hours, the world turned dark again, like he was purposely taking all the bright colors and the joyful emotions with him when he left. The burdens turned insanely heavy again, unable for you to lift, let alone carry on your shoulders and every reason that caused you to take step after step was gone. Adam knew your life had been a dark pit of hopelessness and tiredness. There had been nothing that held you, what was holding you now? A single person and that person wasn’t even yourself how it should have been. It was Adam.
Heaven, the paradise of afterlife that everybody dreamed of, not you though. You just wanted to rest, not continue to suffer above earth in another world. You wanted peace and quiet, eternal rest. But that had been denied, not only by God, but also by Adam. The first man was worried about you and while others thought of it as cute, you felt like a burden to him by making him worry so much. He cared, that you were aware of, he let you not only hear you about it, no, he also showed you that he cared about you. And that caused the clouds that covered your view to lift temporarily. But once Adam left - even if it was just the room - the clouds came back, painting the worlds in black, white and gray again until he came back.
Extermination days were the worst, not only was your partner gone the entire day, no, he was also at risk of getting injured, maybe even killed. Who was there to promise you that Adam would make it out alive? And what would you do if Adam wouldn’t make it out? If Lute would come back alone, nothing but his halo in her hand that she would hand over to you as proof. Would it hurt? Would it hurt worse than the pain you inflict on yourself?
You flicked the lighter on and for a short moment you watched the flame dance in front of your eyes, then you moved the lighter close to your thigh until the flame licked on your skin, the burn that followed felt save, it felt like coming home after a long trip, it welcomed you with open arms and you were so used to it that you closed your eyes and enjoy the silence the pain brought. That was a thing you had missed so much, the silence in your mind that pain brought with it whenever you invited it to visit you. You had been so lost in the quietness that you hadn’t heard the door to the bedroom slamming open. Your eyes cracked open when the lighter was harshly ripped from your trembling fingers, the usually so calming voice of your boyfriend was now the reason for you to flinch away from his body, “What the fuck are you doing?” He sounded mad and you hated the way anger made his voice sound. Why was Adam back already? Was it already that late, had you lost track of time again? Did it even matter if he was back earlier?
Paralyzed you watched as he pulled you off the bed, you weren’t reacting to his words at all, not because you didn’t want to, but because you found yourself unable to. The brunette pushed you flush against his body, you felt the soft golden feathers that wrapped around your nude body to shield you and just like before, there was silence in your head - not because of any pain, but because of Adam. Adam, who had returned the colors to your world, Adam, who was drowning you with his body warmth. “I don’t want to fucking lose you,” he mumbled against your head as he buried his face in your hair. He spun the both of you around slowly, then he let himself fall backwards onto the soft mattress of your shared bed, pulling you with him. “You can’t fucking leave me too, I- for fucks sake Y/N, you can’t fucking-” he interrupted himself and it was only then that you felt the salty tears that were streaming down his cheeks. “I don’t fucking want you to-” he tried again but failed yet again, a sob fell from his lips and you couldn’t help but hate your self for making him feel that way. Adam deserved better, you had tried to explain that to him ever since the both of you had started dating. Yet the brunette had always disagreed. “Please,” he whispered and his voice sounded so unusually broken it tore you apart from the inside. You hated the way it voice was able to sound so unstable, so broken, so sad. You hated that you had caused Adam to feel that way within seconds. “I fucking love you, Y/N,” he mumbled, clearly out of words. You knew he wanted to scream and yell, that he wanted answers. And he knew screaming and yelling would only push you further away from him and that you’d give him answers once you were ready to. So he bit back all the questions he wanted to ask you, all the things he wanted to get off his chest and placed a soft kiss on your head instead. “I’m sorry for being such a mess,” you whispered quietly and maybe, secretly, you hoped it had been too quiet for him to hear. But it hadn’t been, “You’re not, babes, you’ll never fucking be.” But the both of you knew that wasn’t true, that he was lying. You were not only ruining your own mental health but also his. It was only a matter of time until Adam would either drop you or fall into the same hole you were already sitting in.
50 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can I pls have Dominik Mysterio x Fem reader with the prompts “I trust you” + ➻ “May I kiss you?” where the reader goes to his room and not only tells him her feelings but also how he's helped her with her inner demons?
Apocolypse
When your all alone , I will reach for you
Pairings - Bsf!Dominik Mysterio x Wrestler/Bsf! Reader
Warnings - Fear of unrequited feelings , Just fluff rlly!!
Word Count - 0.7k , Gif Creds
You and Dominik had been the dynamic duo of The Judgment day. You would always spend time with him. He was like the sun to your moon. You always saw edits either, praising the friendship you two or, shipping you two together. You and Dominik would make fun of the edits and react to them , but little did he know how much you wished you two could be together. And the edits just fueled your need for him more. So today you decided you wanted to tell him the feelings you and hidden for a while. You felt scared telling him about it , but you didnt tell him , he would never know.
You asked him to meet at a nearby beach at 5:00pm. The sun should be setting at that time , you thought. Checking your phone it was already 4:45. You grabbed your keys and purse as you looked into the mirror next to the door. It’s time to set your plan into action you thought, as you sighed.
You arrived to the beach as you sww Dominik sitting with his knees to his face looking at the sunset. You tapped his shoulder feeling your hands sweat up at the thought of what you were about to do. You saw Dominik turn to you , a smile forming on his face when he saw you.
“Hey mariposa, did you need me here for?” He asked.
“Hey I was wondering.. could we talk for a bit, its kinda important,” you asked as you sat down next to him.. Why were you feeling so nervous all of a sudden? You felt confident just a moment again where did it go? You thought to yourself.
Dominik looked straight ahead, feeling the breeze of the wind hit his hair. He looked so , beautiful. Almost unreal you thought as you looked into his eyes. You took a deep breath before you turned pulled dominik by his hand to look at you.
“You trust me right? This wont ruin what he have? “You whispered to him. You saw his face switch from a smile , to a worried expression.
“Of course, mi vida , I trust you know that right?,” he replies back.
Before you knew it , your faces were closer than you had imagined. You saw Dominik’s gaze linger on your lips and then back to your eyes.
“Dom what are you do-“ but he cut you off before you could continue.
“May I kiss you?” he asked. His question was soon answered as your lips met him in an heated kiss.
You felt Dom smile into the kiss as your lips left his. You could still feel the linger that his lips left behind. And you loved it.
“Is that what you wanted to talk about?” He asked as smirk painting his face.
You looked back at the sunset ad you opened your mouth to speak. Feeling his gaze linger on you.
“I just wanted to tell you how much you’ve helped me through out my career. Ive been having a hard time adjusting to the judgment day lifestyle, especially with these changes— its just been hard for me. And at some point I’ve thought about quitting,��� you saw Dominiks face change to worry again as you spoke.
“But you helped me through these things Withought knowing. And I love that about you Dom.” You turned to look at him , seeing his smile match yours as his face turned a brighter shade of pink.
He grabbed your hand a bubbly smile on his lips as he began to speak.
“Im happy to be that person for you, and I want you to know how much I care… even if I might not show it you’re always on my mind,” you smiled as you turned to look away , trying to hide your face getting warmer. But instead of letting you, he kept you in his touch , pulling your face closer to his chest. Making you lay down on him. You and Dominik watched the sun set , as you rested on his chest. He took glances at you from time to time, but no words were exchanged. Just the love for each other , lingering in your hearts.
A/N- I hope You like this lovley!! Thank you all for the support on my fics it means alot!! 💕
#dominik mysterio x reader#dominik mysterio imagine#dominik mysterio#dominik mysterio fanfiction#dominik mysterio fluff
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
easier
Summary: Dewdrop feels like he is too hard to love. They love him anyways.
Tags: raindrop of course, polyghouls, hurt/comfort, self-esteem issues, implied sexual content
Inspired by The Death of Peace of Mind by kroas_adtam because the "I would have been easier to love as a water-ghoul" line literally haunts me. also i wrote this a while ago but i forgot to post it here
Read here on AO3, or under the cut!
Dewdrop has a thought - one that crosses his mind with frustrating recurrence. He tries not to entertain it, tries not to let it sink in too deep, or let the words build too heavy, but he feels it. It kicks at the back of his mind like Mountain’s foot on the drum pedal when he bites out harsh words at Cumulus who just wanted to make sure he was okay. It twists its way into his chest, thick and suffocating, when Rain’s arm is draped over his waist in the silence of his room, hot puffs of even air fanning across his cheeks. The thought pounds at his stomach like Aether’s fists on his door, begging Dew to let him in, please let me in. The thought whispers it too, lacking the plead in Aether’s voice, it demands Let Me In.
And Dewdrop fights it. He shoves it back with a snap of quick wit when Swiss suggests he might need something soft to hold when he fucks him hard and deep, offering Dewdrop’s hand a gentle squeeze where they’re intertwined against the sheets. It punches the desire out of his gut and makes his lip curl up in disgust just before telling Swiss there’s something else you can squeeze instead. That quiets the voice, the thought, for a moment when Swiss’ large, warm hand rests against his throat. Though it pipes up again when he can feel his own pulse on the multi-ghoul’s finger tips, reminding him that his life rests in the mercy of Swiss’ careful compress. Let me in.
He ignores it again. He passes it back and forth on his knees and ankles like a hacky-sack when it threatens him. He forces his eyes open wider, willing his mind to zero back in on Aurora’s ramblings while she paints his nails. She paints them black without asking, because she knows him a bit too well, settling a bit too comfortably into Dew’s life considering how long she’d been on earth. His hand twitches in her soft grasp, itching to rip away and cut like a knife. So, he does. But it’s less of a knife and more of a worn out wooden spoon, frayed around the edges, as an excuse leaves his lips. He tries to smile through the ache in his chest when she gives him a concerned frown, and he despises the way his eyes sting as he forces out, I’m okay, just tired , before patting her head as he scoots off the stool to leave. He feels her eyes on the back of his head as he walks away. LET ME IN , the voice screams when he twists his face and refuses to cry.
And then when he’s there in his own room - not Rain’s where he fell asleep tangled up most nights, not Mountain’s soft, plush nest that never failed to make him drowsy, or Phantom’s exciting chamber filled with trinkets to occupy his mind - his room, it could sneak up on him. His room was clean, partially from his need for space to concentrate, not allowing clutter to fill his mind or his surroundings, and another in part because he really did not spend much time in it since the change. Scorch marks stained the furniture and the walls, black and smokey, that never seemed to go away no matter how he scrubbed at them (Copia offered to buy him paints to cover them, and to help him too, but Dewdrop had slammed the door shut on his Papa and curled up in the corner to stare at the marks instead). They were reminders now. Reminders of who he is, and who he will never be. He avoided his room until he couldn't anymore. Until the feelings welled up and he had nowhere else to hide. And that is where the voice would start to win.
You would have been easier to love if…
If you were soft.
If you were kind.
If you were quieter.
Calmer.
Brighter.
More thoughtful.
More giving.
If you were more and if you were less.
You would have been easier to love as a water ghoul.
The words spill over and down Dewdrop’s cheeks, wracking his body with sobs when he curls up with his back against the wall and his knees pulled to his chest.
You do not deserve them . His pack. He does not deserve them after what he did.
Once he was all sparkling blue skin and dark sleek hair, perky and cute and all of the things that the others cherished and desired. He still had his spark, his quick tongue, but he had smiled more - let his lovers hold him and mold him until he fit right into their mouths and bodies. He laughed loud and often, wearing his emotions like bold flowering tattoos on his skin, never letting them doubt for one moment that he loved them all. He kissed Mountain’s cheek in the morning before they sank into their routine of making breakfast together, humming as they knocked into each other with quiet giggles, and letting his stomach swoop when the earth ghoul hugged him close to his body against the counter. Now, their mornings were quieter. It was still always the two of them up before the others, dipping into a silent rhythm of making coffee and pancakes. Mountain tried humming, tried nudging at Dew with his feet, tossing him soft, sympathetic smiles that made bile rise in Dew’s throat. He watched that smile fall, fall, and fall again until Mountain did not try anymore. A sick part of Dew reveled in it, that he had shaken off the softness, like he had proved that he was not as good as Mountain claimed he was. Another smaller, muffled part of him was begging him to give in, to let Mountain wash his gentle hands over his small waist and rock back and forth in the kitchen until the pancakes were burnt on the bottom and the coffee went cold.
You do not deserve to give in , the voice reminded him. He was not their water-ghoul anymore. He was not their sweet, loving Dewdrop. He didn’t even deserve the name, Dewdrop.
Another sob coursed through his frame, his whole body shaking with it until it burst from his mouth all strangled and wet. He felt stupid, he felt pathetic, by letting the voice speak to him and etch its way onto his skin.
You are not soft enough.
You are not pretty enough.
You are not smart enough, or strong enough.
You are not good enough for them.
It choked him, clamping down on his chest and throat like he was being crushed by the depth of the sea. He lifted his hands and dug into his hair, pulling at it to feel the sting where the fibers latched onto his scalp. The cries kept coming until he was gasping and he wished so badly that he was good enough for one of his mates, all of his mates, that he could reach out and ask them to hold him, soothe him , like a young kit until he could catch his breath and snuggle into their warmth.
He imagined how they might kiss his forehead and wipe away his tears with the pads of their thumbs, and it ached . He let his mind reach out for the ache, let it burn through his chest and bubble up his throat to turn into more cries and whimpers that tumbled out and echoed off his stupid, burnt walls. He thought about how they might say his name. Like they used to. Soft and kind, Dewdrop. Water lily. Droplet.
Dewdrop.
Dewdrop.
"Dewdrop."
"Dewdrop!"
Dew’s head shot up, heart pounding in his chest. He felt the color drain from his body, heat replaced by chill like he was a prey who had been caught.
"Dew, please open the door." It was Rain.
Dew couldn’t stop the next cry that left his lips, crying for his mate. His chest kept aching, his breaths getting faster. He wished he could stand and open the door but his body was frozen on the hardwood, clutching at his head and the space above his heart.
"Baby, please."
Too sweet, too soft, you do not deserve this.
When he did not respond again, he heard mumbling and the rustling of keys. His heart thumped heavily. A key slid into the lock with a sleek slide, Rain rushing out a quick warning that he was coming in before turning it all the way because he was ever the gentleman even like this. Even to Dewdrop.
Dew turned his head when the door opened, trying to fold in on himself, wishing he could flip inside out so no one could see the blotchiness of his cheeks or the way his hands shook when he moved his hair to cover his face.
"Let me go in first," Rain said to someone behind him before Dewdrop heard the door click shut once more and soft, bare footsteps followed by the drag of a tail padded over to where he sat.
And then there were arms around him.
And Dewdrop cried again, harder and louder if it were even possible. Rain’s arms were sturdy where they slowly turned Dew into his body, scooping him up until he was folded around the fire ghoul's shaking form.
"It’s okay, baby." Rain said, using the petname he reserved only for Dewdrop and only in times like these. The voice laughed, poking at Dew with a hot iron, he wouldn't hold you like this if he had known you before. If he knew how much colder you are as a fire-ghoul, if he knew how much dimmer, and saltier, and weaker you are now.
A soft hand pulled at his mind as it laid on his cheek. He hiccupped, hating the way he leaned into Rain's touch. He took in a shaky breath, eyes beginning to stare out into the expanse as the storming sea of emotions pulled him under, trying to drown him. It was peaceful, like acceptance. That he was in fact,
Weak.
Ugly.
Wrong.
"Where are you?" Rain said, his voice the softest, most pleading whisper. To Dewdrop, it felt like a hand grasping his where he reached up towards the surface, where the light shone through the water. It threatened to pull him out into the open air and subject him to the ache and the waves again. He wanted to thrash against it, tear his hand from Rain’s strong grip and keep sinking, but Rain was strong and Dew wanted to dive into his embrace.
Rain leaned his forehead against Dewdrop’s, their horns clacking together as he pressed firmly. His tail intertwined with Dew’s. Dew could feel his mate's distress and worry tugging at his heart, the beautiful and unfortunate part of being so tightly tied to one another. It wasn't pity Rain was feeling, It was empathy. And Dew didn't know what to do with it when it washed over him, but he knew he did not want Rain to be sad. Especially not for him, so he leaned into Rain, letting him hold him and mold him to his chest. He breathed in deep, familiar petrichor filling his senses, slowing his heart rate. He let that hand pull him up, up, up until he breached the surface.
He took another deep breath that shuddered through his small body. Rain ran his other hand that was not on his face over his spine in slow sweeping motions. A few remaining tears trickled over his hot cheeks, and this time Rain’s thumb was there to catch them. Dew leaned into him further. The sea was calm, the voice was quieter.
“What happened?” Rain asked, leaning back enough to see Dew’s face, but never letting him go.
Dewdrop struggled to raise his head, keeping his eyes fixated on Rain’s chest where one of his hands had clutched and dug in. The shirt was torn from his claws, and he had to resist another deprecating thought.
He hiccupped around his next breath of air, trying to get the words out, but they were lodged in his throat. The voice, while quieter, still called him an attention seeker, a waste of space, undeserving of Rain’s warm gaze.
“I-” His voice was crackly and raw. Rain asked if he needed water and Dewdrop shook his head. He feared that if he didn’t let it out now, he might never have the strength again. “It’s hard,” he started.
What’s hard? How do I explain this? How do I explain to you that sometimes when you look at me, when the others look at me like you love me, it feels like I’m dying.
“It’s hard to let you love me.” He said, quiet. Weak. “I don’t- I don’t deserve it.”
He waited for the sting. Something that would prove the voice and the thoughts right. Flashes of the anger haunted his memories, the stupid words he spat at Rain when he was first summoned, how he stormed out of every room the water ghoul entered, resisting his kindness at every turn and corner, and how Rain kept coming back no matter what - Dew could not handle that sort of love. He needed Rain to be mad at him too, to fight back, to finally say what he has been probably thinking all these years later; that Dew was and is too hard to love, and most certainly did not deserve it.
There was no sting though.
There was only Rain pulling Dew back into his chest, stronger and firmer than before. He tucked his head into the crook between Dew’s neck and shoulder, his breath whispering on his skin and making him shiver.
" You are everything to me." Rain said. He said it with power, with force, with a sort of roundness to it that had Dew pulling back and gently tilting Rain’s head back, finally looking at his face and finding his blue eyes glistening with tears. Shining with adoration. It brought wetness back to Dew’s on eyes, and he felt his lip quiver.
"I love you, Dewdrop." Rain said, and again "You are everything. I know it's hard, I know. Let me do this- let us do this with you."
Dew sniffled, "I don't know how."
"We will figure it out together. Oh," He brushed a strand of gold hair behind Dewdrop's ear, his lips upturned in a small smile, "You are pretty even when you cry, sweetheart."
Dewdrop scoffed, but couldn't help his own smile.
Rain’s hand rested on his cheek again, and this time Dew was unashamed in the way he soaked up his warmth, closing his eyes and kissing his palm.
"Will you let us in? Let us see you like this." Rain asked. Dew nodded into his hand, biting his lip. Rain pressed a lingering kiss to his head, his horns, his cheeks, to his nose and chin, and then to his lips. "Let us love you."
"Okay."
#the band ghost#nameless ghouls#dewdrop ghoul#rain ghoul#raindrop#raindrop ghost#dwritesit#raindrop fic#rain ghost
100 notes
·
View notes
Text
champion~RHEA RIPLEY X READER FLUFF
IMAGINE where rhea ripley has a championship match, and the reader goes out to ringside with her but when the reader takes a punch for the love of her life, Rhea explodes and finally comes out with her true feelings.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WARNINGS: none. Slight swearing? Erotic fluff? no smut but feel free to request it.
ALSO I TAKE REQUESTS, so if you have an idea, let me know and I'd love to make it come true! Love you guys and thanks for reading!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I take a deep breath before we step out into the arena. Rhea is full of adrenaline, I can feel it radiating off of her, but I am all nerves. Rhea might have gotten too far ahead of herself this time.
We step out into the light.
Rhea’s theme music plays and the crowd is crazy. I don’t let anyone see my anxiety on my face. I change my expression to true brutality.
“You ready for this, babe?” Rhea cries, her eyes burning bright.
Babe, babe, babe, babe, babe…
“Hell yeah” I say and we head down to the ring, Rhea pinching my arm with a grin on her face.
She climbs up the ropes, fists in the air. (It’s a damn shame that she doesn’t pummel me with those fists.) Her lips are painted black and her hair is slicked back yet looser than usual. It's gotten a little long, and I must say that I want nothing more to put my hand in her hair and pull it, just so I can hear her gasp.
Her smile is brighter than all the lights in the arena and I can’t help but smile at my thoughts. Rhea Ripley is by far the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Her body is toned and muscled but everything about her is graceful and sleek. And really I just can’t get over her damned smile-
Part of me is grateful that the rest of The Judgement Day didn’t come out to ringside this time. I’m so selfish for wanting her all to myself…
The music changes.
Bianca Belair walks into the arena.
I have to give it to Bianca. She has made a name for herself and makes everyone turn their heads and stop what they are doing. She won her Raw women’s championship belt fair and square and has defended it well. Rhea said so herself.
But when Rhea challenged her for it, I couldn’t help but think that the only way Bianca would give up the title is out of her cold dead hands.
As Bianca makes her way down to the ring, I look up at Rhea and she gives me one last look. She winks at me and turns back to the E-S-T.
I am not sure if my heart is racing because I think Rhea is going to take the loss or the fact that she winked at me.
……
Bianca has only managed to pin Rhea once. My nerves have settled a bit because Rhea really has the upper hand in this match. Bianca is strong. HELLA strong. But not as strong as my Rhea. I never should have doubted her.
Rhea hooks Bianca’s arms between her legs and hoists her up. Yes, yes, yes!!! Riptide–
Where’s the ref?
Rhea slams Bianca down and I wince at how hard Bianca hits the mat. Where the hell is the ref? Rhea has had her down for more than a count of three…
I realize the referee wasn’t at the count because Alexa Bliss had made her way into the ring and tried to interfere. The ref turns around and looks in horror that he missed a vital moment in the match trying to get rid of Alexa. Bianca kicked out before he could count.
Oh, I was not letting this happen.
I run over to where Alexa stands laughing. I reach across the apron and grab her by her ankles. She slams to the mat and I drag her out.
“You wanna screw up this match, bitch? Not gonna happen with me.” I say. “So come and face me if you even have the balls to.”
Alexa stands up and screams, running straight into my midsection and slamming me into the post. The back of my head throbs, practically on fire. No way I am letting this blonde bitch beat me.
Trying my hardest to ignore the pain in my head, I push Alexa off of me and grab her by her hair, dragging and slamming her into the barricade. I hear her groan. It’s not enough. I get her on her feet again. I shouldn't try to steal Rhea's move, but I've been practicing just for her. I silently pray that my next move will work.
I hook her arm around my neck.
I pull her other arm between her legs.
I hoist her up.
And with all my force–
Riptide.
Alexa hits the floor, immediately writhing in pain. Her back took the full force of the hit…
“Y/n!”
I look up and Rhea rushes down from the ring and towards me, her hands grasping my sides. Bianca still lay lifeless in the ring. Rhea looks at me up and down and begs to know if I’m okay.
“I’m okay, I promise. My head just hurts a little…”
“That riptide was so good! Have you been practicing somehow?” She asks, her thumbs rubbing circles on my skin. I reach my hands up and grab the sides of her face. Her skin is warm from sweat but I want to kiss all over it anyway. Her smile her smile her smile oh my god I can't breathe....her eyes crinkle in delight at me and I think I am more breathless than she is.
“How else would Dominik have all his bruises?” I laugh. Her hands squeeze just a little tighter on my waist as she grins.
Damn it, her smile! I can’t ever resist it–
It only takes me a split second to notice Bianca barreling towards Rhea. I shove Rhea out of the way just as Bianca raises her fist to strike.
She makes direct contact with my eye.
I feel my body still and I slump to the ground.
Y’know, that kinda fuckin’ hurt. My second hit to the head.
The edges of my vision dance with black spots, and I can hear Rhea’s screams of rage. I reach my hand up towards my eye and wince at the sting. I look for Rhea, and she’s starting to corner Bianca towards the ring, yelling in her face.
“You wanna mess with my girl, huh? You wanna hit my girl? I don’t fucking think so!”
Rhea grabs Bianca’s ponytail and uses it to slam her face into the apron. Bianca groans as she is thrown back into the ring. I sit up, a little dizzy, and watch as Rhea screams at the ref.
“You gonna watch this one, huh? Yeah? You gonna watch this? You gonna do your damn job? Watch this!”
Rhea drops onto Bianca, straddling her. And she starts to lay the punches onto Bianca’s head. She tries to kick out from under Rhea but to no avail. I get to my feet and get on my belly to slide in the ring.
The Judgment Day music plays and Damian and Finn and Dominik run out. Why are they out here? If they try to interfere, Rhea will be disqualified!
I won’t interfere either. I know that it could get Rhea in trouble but I also know that she doesn’t want me to interfere because she knows what she’s doing.
Damian leans onto the apron and screams, “Rhea, stop! Just finish her!”
“Finish her, mami!” Dom cries.
Finn is shaking his head and muttering “She’s gonna kill her, she’s gonna kill her…”
I realize why they are so upset. With the way Rhea is beating Bianca, she is getting too violent and it’s possible that Rhea could get banned from wrestling. Bianca's lip has busted open and little drops of blood scatter onto Rhea's hands.
I look at Damian. He’s got worry etched all over his face.
I stumble to the corner, and I watch Rhea pick Bianca up and slam her back down.
Rhea is rage.
She is anger.
She is graceful yet harsh.
Quick on her feet and fast with her hands.
She is beautiful.
She is a nightmare.
An eradicator.
True brutality.
She beats the shit out of Bianca for a little longer and then she does it.
Arm around her neck.
Leg tucked between the thighs.
Lift–
Riptide.
Bianca is out. I know it.
The ref doesn’t miss the count. 1, 2, 3.
Done.
Rhea gets up and shouts with joy. I run up to her and she opens her arms to me and I jump into her, putting my face into her neck. She’s spinning me and she’s screaming about not how she won but we won. We won.
I’m back on my feet again and a little disappointed that she won’t hold me on her hip so I can wrap my legs around her. The ref hands her the belt and she screams in delight as she hoists it up in the air. Damian and Finn and Dom rush into the ring and suddenly we are all screaming and whooping and crying out our war cries. Victory is ours. No one can hurt us anymore.
Dominik takes my face in his hands and inspects my eye,
“te golpeó muy fuerte, mi amor.” [she hit you pretty hard, my love]
“dominik, estoy bien, lo prometo.” [dominik, im fine, i promise]
He grins and Finn picks me up in excitement. I laugh and Damian laughs with me. Finn sets me down and I turn back to Rhea.
She stares at me, her beautiful, wicked smile gone. She’s breathless and she’s looking at me as though I am her prize instead of the belt she holds in her hand.
Rhea drops her belt.
She rushes to me and grabs my hips harshly but kisses me gently.
Oh. Oh, oh, oh, oh…
Rhea’s lips kiss me so gently but her grip on me is like iron. The only thing separating me and her is our ring gear. I grab the sides of her face and press my lips against hers, begging for more, more, more.
I realize that we are so close that our hips are smashed together and she is enveloping me in her embrace. Her arms snake around to my back and she pulls me even closer.
There is no way for us to be closer but I want us to be closer. I want to be molded into her so me and her are one. I pull away for a moment and I look into her lust filled eyes. I want more, more , more of her.
“I can’t believe you dropped your title belt,” I say with a laugh.
Rhea puts one hand in my hair and says,
“No championship could ever be worth as much as kissing you.”
She strokes my hair and leans down to give me a soft peck that has me trembling and aching for more of her.
“My girl,” she says. “My girl.”
I smile and kiss her again. I don’t care if her black lipstick smears all over me. I don’t ever want to stop kissing her.
“I’m so proud of you,” I say, a kiss between each word. She smiles at me with her teeth and I melt into her. I love when she’s soft.
I look over at Finn who is clapping like the rest of the audience. Dominik is cheering and Damian is wearing a smirk. I can tell that they knew this would happen eventually. I hear Rhea laugh and she picks up her title belt and then picks me up, wrapping my legs around her waist. She is my champion and I am her prize. She looks up at me, her eyes twinkling with pride. She is not ashamed of me. She would never be ashamed of me. I lean down to kiss her, my hands resting on the sides of her neck.
She raises her belt in victory, and I throw my head back in laughter.
My brutal, wicked, graceful, beautiful champion.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
HEY GUYS
im super proud of this one. IDK i just think its neat. Remember, i take requests and i am very flexible with characters and such.
DO NOT REPOST
#rhea ripley#rhea ripley x reader#rhea ripley x reader fluff#the judgement day#the judgment day#damian priest#dominik mysterio#finn balor#finn balór#the judgment day x reader#wwe#WWE#rhea ripley wwe#wwe rhea ripley
345 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝒞𝑜𝓈𝓂𝒾𝒸 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 - Part 2 (Fujin x Tsung! Reader)
Official Masterlist - Part 1
Summary: (Y/n) has since escaped from Outworld, and now resides in the Sky Temples with Fujin and Raiden. All seems peaceful, however, she is completely oblivious to those who seek her return to the Outworld kingdom...
Word Count: 6.4K words
Warning/s: it gets a lil spicy (y'all have sex again)
-
The view of Earthrealm from the Sky Temples was always something else.
(Y/n) sat on the edge of the railing which guarded the roof of the temples, elegantly surveying the vast expanse which laid below, awe, love and astonishment in her heart for the place she could call home once again. The birth of nightfall was making itself evident, it's cry in the form of an ombre of oranges and pinks and purples which spanned across the horizon, hugging the mountains as the day began dying.
She was so grateful to be welcomed into the Sky Temples, allowed to call it home by the two storm brothers, even when Raiden was reluctant to recruit her from the moment he found out she was Fujin's champion.
He was unsurprised to find that the two of them were lovers, considering how affectionate the two of them were. Usually, he would discourage sentiment, especially when it came to having it for a mortal. Though, he and Fujin already had that fight, a long time ago, and in that he found some understanding. Besides, (Y/n) was no ordinary mortal, her powers extended her life greatly, and Fujin mourning for her death was an unlikely scenario.
As the evening hues painted the sky, Fujin joined (Y/n) on the rooftop, his presence a calming force amidst the shifting colours. He approached her with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the love and adoration he held for her.
"You look radiant in this light," Fujin murmured, his voice carrying the warmth of his affection. "Earthrealm is blessed to have you, my love."
(Y/n) turned to him, her eyes sparkling with affection. She reached out to take his hand, intertwining their fingers.
"I'm grateful to have found a home here, with you and Raiden," she said, her voice filled with sincerity. "This place, these temples, they hold a beauty that goes beyond anything I could have ever imagined. It's so peaceful here, it's nothing like Outworld was."
They stood together, their hands entwined, silently witnessing the sky's transformation as day succumbed to night. The stars began to twinkle, one by one, painting the heavens with their gentle glow. The soft breeze rustled their hair, carrying with it a sense of serenity and belonging.
In the tranquillity of the moment, Fujin drew (Y/n) closer, wrapping his arms around her from behind in a tender embrace. He leaned against the railing, the front of his body pressed against her back, as they gazed out at the sprawling beauty of Earthrealm below.
"You have endured so much, my love," Fujin whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and protectiveness. "But now, you are safe here. You deserve this peace, this sanctuary."
(Y/n) leaned into Fujin's embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against her back. She closed her eyes, letting his words sink deep into her heart.
"Safe and loved," she whispered, her voice tinged with emotions. "That's all I've ever wanted, and that's what I've found with you. These temples, this view, they remind me of the beauty that exists in the world and the love that fills my soul."
Fujin planted a gentle kiss on the nape of her neck, his touch sending shivers down her spine.
"You are my guiding light, (Y/n)," he murmured softly, his breath tickling her skin.
With each passing moment, as the sky darkened and the stars grew brighter, (Y/n) felt a profound sense of belonging. The Sky Temples had become more than just a physical place; they were a testament to the love she and Fujin shared, a sanctuary where their souls could intertwine and find solace. Home.
"You know," (Y/n) spoke after a moment of silence, her voice laced with a playful tone, "we're incredibly fortunate to witness this view together. It's as if the universe itself conspires to create breath-taking moments for us."
Fujin chuckled softly, his hold tightening around her waist.
"Indeed, it seems that way," he agreed, his voice filled with warmth. "Perhaps the very essence of Earthrealm recognizes the bond we share and gifts us with these celestial displays."
And as the night unfolded around them, (Y/n) and Fujin stood on the rooftop of the Sky Temples, their hearts entwined, and their spirits intertwined with the very fabric of Earthrealm. With each passing moment, they strengthened their resolve to protect their home, their love, and the magnificent view that served as a constant reminder of the beauty and resilience of their world.
-
"Still nothing?! This is an outrage!!!"
Shang Tsung flinched when the Emperor of Outworld raised his voice at him, anger and frustration filling his voice at the news which the sorcerer had brought him.
That was - that his daughter had not yet been found, Shang Tsung's daughter.
She had been a long time valuable asset to Outworld, and with her gone, they were left in a considerably weakened state. While naturally, they could rebuild their defences, it would take much too long - at least another decade to rebuild that strength and trust. So, they were working hard to re-obtain her.
Shang Tsung lowered his gaze, feeling the weight of the Emperor's disappointment bearing down on him. He knew that finding his daughter was of utmost importance, not only for the Emperor's reign but also for his own honour and loyalty.
"I understand your frustration, Emperor," Shang Tsung replied, his voice composed despite the tension in the room. "Rest assured, every resource at my disposal is dedicated to locating her. We are leaving no stone unturned in our search."
The Emperor paced back and forth, his anger simmering beneath the surface.
"She holds valuable knowledge and power," he growled. "Her absence weakens us and leaves us vulnerable to our enemies. I expect results, Shang Tsung. I won't tolerate failure."
"I will redouble our efforts, Emperor," Shang Tsung assured, his voice firm.
The Emperor's eyes narrowed, studying Shang Tsung intently.
"You have but one chance to rectify this grave mistake, sorcerer," he warned, his voice laced with both threat and desperation. "Do not underestimate the consequences if you fail me."
The door to Shao Kahn's throne chamber opened, and from it, entered another of his loyal subjects and creations - Ermac. As he approached, he spoke, his voice many.
"We have located the girl," he announced, his voices raspy, "she has been spotted at the Sky Temple in Earthrealm, hiding away with Raiden and Fujin."
There was a flicker of hope between Shao Kahn and Shang Tsung as they absorbed the news. The mention of the Sky Temple brought a surge of anticipation to both of them.
Shao Kahn's face twisted into a sinister smile, his eyes gleaming with a mix of satisfaction and malevolence.
"The Sky Temple... a perfect stage for our reunion," he sneered. "We shall reclaim what is rightfully ours."
Shang Tsung's lips curled into a calculating smirk, his mind already weaving a plan.
"Emperor, if I may propose a course of action," he began, his voice filled with cunning. "Allow me to lead a select group of warriors to the Sky Temple. With their combined strength and my strategic guidance, we shall retrieve my daughter and eliminate Raiden and Fujin."
The Emperor's gaze hardened, his voice resonating with command.
"Do not fail me, Shang Tsung. Bring her back, and ensure that the thieves pay for their insolence."
-
Gasping herself awake, (Y/n) sat up in her bed, sweat drenching her body and the sheets around her as she slowly realised that she was no longer unconscious.
She didn't have a nightmare or anything - she hadn't dreamed in a very long time. This...this was simply a bad feeling she harboured in her body, in every little bit of it.
She cast her sight toward her lover, who was sleeping beside her in the bed they now shared. It was comical to think that at demi-god needed sleep just as much as she did. And while her sleep had been disturbed, she would not disturb his, instead getting out of bed and making her way out into the corridor.
From there, she would make her way upstairs and to the roof of the temple, trying desperately to shake the bad feeling she had away but to no avail.
The weight of her premonition hung heavily in the air, causing her heart to race and her palms to grow clammy. She had learned to trust her instincts over the years, and right now, they were urging her to seek solace in the familiarity of the Sky Temple's rooftop.
Her hands met the cold railing, the sensation grounding her in her reality as she stared thoughtfully over the world, darkened by nightfall.
She tried to calm her racing thoughts, searching for a logical explanation for her unease. Perhaps it was simply the remnants of her sleep affecting her subconscious. Or maybe it was the residual effects of the battles she and Fujin had faced, the constant wariness ingrained within them.
But deep down, she knew it was something more. Her connection to the realms and her heightened senses told her that danger loomed on the horizon. It was a feeling she couldn't ignore.
"(Y/n)?"
The woman flinched at the sound of a voice piercing through the otherwise silent night, turning around only to see Raiden standing in the middle of the rooftop, his glow ethereal as he gave her a questioning look.
(Y/n) sighed in relief - she should have known. Raiden frequented this rooftop to meditate, by his war hammer which sat displayed on the roof with pride. Before she could say anything, the god spoke again.
"Does something trouble you so late?"
(Y/n) nodded, a troubled expression on her face. She approached Raiden, her eyes searching his face for answers.
"Something doesn't feel right," she admitted, her voice tinged with concern. "I woke up with this unsettling feeling, like something bad is about to happen. It's been nagging at me, and I couldn't shake it off."
Raiden's expression turned serious, mirroring her concern. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, his touch grounding her.
"I understand," he said, his voice steady and reassuring. "There are forces at play beyond our control, and sometimes our instincts pick up on their movements. It is important to trust your intuition."
(Y/n) nodded, grateful for his understanding. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart.
"I just hope it's nothing to fuss over," she shuddered, cradling herself.
"We'll be ready if it is, though," Raiden assured her, the woman looking at him with a comforted smile as she nodded once.
"Thank you, Raiden," she said gratefully. "Your presence and wisdom brings me solace. I will remain vigilant and prepared for whatever may come."
Raiden gave her a reassuring nod.
"We will face any threat together, (Y/n)," he declared, his voice carrying the weight of his responsibilities as protector of Earthrealm. "No harm shall befall you while Fujin and I draw breath."
As they stood upon the rooftop, a comfortable silence befell them. The night breeze whispered through the temple's spires, carrying with it a sense of anticipation.
At the sound of someone intruding on their conversation, (Y/n) and Raiden turned to see a tired Fujin standing by the entrance to the rooftop, rubbing his milky white eyes as he approached them slowly.
"Fujin, you're awake," (Y/n) greeted him as she reached out and took his hand, intertwining their fingers.
"I can sense distress in you, (N/n)," Fujin replied, his voice filled with concern as he glanced between (Y/n) and Raiden. "Is everything all right?"
"We have a sense that something may be amiss," Raiden explained, his gaze shifting towards the horizon. "A feeling of impending danger."
Fujin's brows furrowed, his grip on (Y/n)'s hand tightening slightly. He drew her in closer toward himself, wrapping an arm around her while his other hand remained fastened tightly on her own hand.
"What do you propose we do?" Fujin asked, his voice steady but laced with resolve.
"We shall speak about it in the morning," (Y/n) sighed, reaching up and cupping her lover's face affectionately, "for now, why don't we just return to bed for the night?"
Fujin nodded, a flicker of concern still present in his eyes. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss against (Y/n)'s forehead, his touch soothing her troubled mind.
"You're right, my feather," he agreed, his voice filled with tenderness. "Rest is essential, especially when faced with uncertainty. We will face whatever challenges await us in the morning."
"I shall alert you if anything happens throughout the night," Raiden assured them, sending a single nod toward their combined figures, "though rest assured, we will be ready."
As they made their way back to their shared quarters, (Y/n) couldn't shake off the feeling of foreboding that lingered within her. She knew that they couldn't ignore their instincts, and she vowed to remain vigilant.
The night enveloped them as they entered their room, its darkness a stark contrast to the warm glow of the temple's halls. Fujin closed the door behind them, creating a sense of privacy and security.
"(Y/n)," Fujin spoke softly, his voice filled with concern, "if danger approaches, promise me that you will stay by my side. I'd never forgive myself if anything ever happened to you."
(Y/n) looked deeply into Fujin's eyes, her love for him inexorable. She reached up to caress his cheek, her touch conveying her unwavering commitment.
"I promise, Fujin," she whispered, her voice steady though he could sense the underlying perseverance within her.
Fujin leaned into her touch, his face reflecting reassurance as they stood there in the dark of their room. With a gentle touch, Fujin wrapped his arms around the woman's waist, (Y/n) instinctively returning the gesture as she wrapped her own around his neck, fondling his beautiful braid and feeling each stray hair which trailed down the nape of his neck. He leaned down and captured his lover in a gentle yet loving kiss, their lips moving together with a fervent passion.
Their moment seemed heated, and they began stepping back, falling onto their bed though their kiss would not be broken.
Their kiss deepened, fuelled by a passionate desire that had been building within them. Their bodies intertwined, their movements guided by a shared hunger for each other.
Fujin's hands roamed eagerly, tracing the curves of (Y/n)'s body with reverence and possessiveness. His touch ignited a fire within her, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her veins. Their lips danced together in a fervent rhythm, their tongues exploring and intertwining, deepening their connection with every breathless exchange.
(Y/n) arched her back, pressing her body against Fujin's, craving the electrifying contact that sent sparks of ecstasy through her being. His kisses trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of heated sensations in their wake. She moaned softly, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as she surrendered herself to the passion that consumed them.
Fujin's hands continued their exploration, mapping every inch of (Y/n)'s body with an intoxicating mix of tenderness and desire. Their clothes became an obstacle, hindering their urgent need to be closer. With a shared understanding, they broke their kiss for a moment, their eyes locking in a silent agreement.
In a flurry of movements, they shed their garments, revealing their naked bodies to each other, stripped down to the core of their desires. They re-joined in a passionate embrace, their bare skin connecting, setting off a cascade of sensations that left them breathless and consumed by the intensity of their love.
Gentle with her temple of a body, Fujin placed (Y/n) at the head of the bed, her back to their sheets as he positioned himself between her thighs, looking down at her all sprawled out for him.
Oh, how beautiful she is, he'd think to himself.
Her body was magnificent, a true wonder of the world. He worshipped her, and swore that on his divine status, that he would do absolutely anything for her.
With a glance of permission, and returned nod of recognition, Fujin gently drove himself inside of her, shuddering at the sigh which fell from (Y/n)'s beautiful lips at the movement. As he moved his hips back and forth, his lover's body reacted pleasantly to his actions, as with each movement, another beautiful moan would tumble from her lips.
Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, driven by a mutual yearning to lose themselves in each other's embrace. Pleasure coursed through them, rising and falling like the tide, each touch and caress building toward an inevitable climax. They whispered words of love and devotion between stolen breaths, their voices melding together in a symphony of passion and connection.
As their bodies reached the pinnacle of their shared pleasure, they held onto each other, their cries of ecstasy mingling in the air. Waves of release washed over them, leaving them breathless and spent, their bodies entwined in the aftermath of their passionate union.
They lay tangled in each other's embrace, their breathing gradually returning to normal. Their foreheads touched, and they exchanged a tender smile, their eyes filled with a profound sense of love and contentment. In that moment, they knew that they were not just lovers, but soulmates, bound together by a love that transcended physical desire.
Wrapped in each other's arms, they drifted into a peaceful slumber, finding solace and serenity in the warmth of their shared love. The outside world and its uncertainties could wait, for in this intimate sanctuary, they had found a haven where their love could flourish, replenishing their spirits and fortifying their bond.
-
Gathered below the Sky Temples, Shang Tsung had recruited a team of Shao Kahn's best warriors. That is - Ermac, Quan Chi, Baraka, Reptile, and Scorpion. He figured he'd need more than just himself and Ermac to complete this vital task, and as Shao Kahn said - failure is not an option.
Shang Tsung surveyed the assembled warriors, before he spoke.
"Our target resides in one of the top levels of the temple," he began, his voice resonating with authority, "we must capture her with utmost haste, and return her to Outworld. There is no room for error."
Ermac, the collective entity of warrior souls, nodded in agreement, his gaze unwavering. Quan Chi, the sorcerer of the Netherrealm, smirked with a hint of sinister delight. Baraka, the fierce Tarkatan warrior, sharpened his blades, ready for bloodshed. Reptile, the stealthy Zaterran assassin, hissed in anticipation. And Scorpion, the vengeful spectre, his eyes burning with a fiery resolve.
Bypassing the thunder god's thoughtfully placed out security, the group made their way into the temple, scouting it out carefully to ensure that they covered any and all ground, quickly and quietly.
Shang Tsung felt his heart pang with his anxieties. He knew it would pain him to see his daughter again - though what other choice did he have?
He had to retrieve his betraying daughter, (Y/n) Tsung.
-
This time, (Y/n) didn't wake with a start. Instead, her eyes fluttered open as the sun which poured in through their window hit them, and as they did, she saw her lover before her, sleeping, eyes fluttering and twitching with the dreams he was living in his head, and she couldn't help but stay like that for a while and admire him.
His tousled hair framed his handsome face, and his lips curved into a gentle smile. A surge of affection swelled within her as she marvelled at the serenity that graced him in this tranquil moment.
Carefully, so as not to disturb his rest, (Y/n) reached out and traced a tender line along Fujin's jawline, relishing in the softness of his skin beneath her fingertips.
Lost in her thoughts, (Y/n) leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Fujin's forehead, savouring the touch and the warmth that radiated from him.
After having obviously woken him up last night from her distressed nature, she decided to allow her lover to sleep in some more, careful to not wake him as she got up from the bed and dressed herself.
(Y/n) moved gracefully around the room, selecting her attire for the day. She chose a comfortable yet stylish ensemble, allowing her mind to wander as she dressed. The events of the previous night lingered in her thoughts, a mix of emotions swirling within her.
With her preparations complete, (Y/n) stole another glance at Fujin, who was still fast asleep despite her movement around the room. She figured that he'd be waking soon anyways, and decided to go ahead and prepare the both of them a pot of hot tea.
As (Y/n) made her way to the kitchen, her footsteps were light and cautious, mindful not to disturb the tranquillity of the house. She filled the kettle with water and carefully selected a blend of tea that she knew Fujin enjoyed.
With the tea steeping, filling the air with its aromatic fragrance, (Y/n) retrieved a tray and arranged a couple of cups, along with a small plate of fresh fruits she had picked from the garden the day before. The soft clinking of porcelain against porcelain accompanied her graceful movements.
Though, as she walked, she couldn't help but feel a menacing, overbearing presence, like an uninvited guest had just entered the vicinity, someone was not supposed to be here. That presence wasn't just menacing, but also familiar. However, she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
She took a moment to pause, her brows furrowing in concentration. The familiarity of the unwelcome presence tugged at the corners of her mind, like a distant memory begging to be remembered.
As she closed her eyes, attempting to delve deeper into her thoughts, fragments of images flashed through her mind—memories of a shadowy figure, an encounter shrouded in secrecy and ambiguity. The pieces of the puzzle began to align, revealing the identity of the intruder.
Shang Tsung.
The realization sent a shiver down (Y/n)'s spine. The man who had once been her father, now an adversary on a dangerous mission to retrieve her. She knew his intentions were driven by his desperation, but she had made her choice to walk a different path.
In a swift movement, she dropped the tray she was holding, the items on it falling to the ground and smashing as she spun around and shot a blast of power at the presence she sensed, revealing from the shadows, her father.
He cried out at the unanticipated movement, and while he had managed to block some of the blast, he was undoubtedly winded as his disguise had been seen through.
(Y/n) was stunned. She hadn't thought her premonitions to be more than a bad feeling, one which could be ignored. But there he was, standing before her.
The air crackled with tension as (Y/n) and Shang Tsung locked eyes, their gazes filled with conflicting emotions. The room fell into a deafening silence, broken only by the sound of shattered porcelain and the faint remnants of their disrupted tranquillity.
Shang Tsung recovered from the blast, his expression a mix of surprise, anger, and a hint of desperation.
"(Y/n), my daughter," Shang Tsung said, his voice tinged with a mixture of longing and determination, "I have come to bring you back. Outworld needs you."
He stepped forward, his expression a mix of sternness and sorrow. As he did, his allies appeared around him, two of them, that was Quan Chi and Ermac. It was clear that they had appeared knowing Shang had found his daughter. Their presence was menacing and she was clearly outnumbered, though her stance and demeanour never faltered.
"You have strayed from your path and aligned yourself with our enemies. This is your chance for redemption."
(Y/n) looked at her father, her heart heavy with conflicting emotions.
"Father, I have made choices that align with my own convictions. I cannot simply return to a life I no longer believe in."
Quan Chi sneered, his voice dripping with contempt.
"Enough of this sentimental nonsense. Capture her and let's be done with it."
But Shang Tsung raised his hand, signalling for his comrades to hold their attack.
"No, Quan Chi. This is a matter that concerns me and my daughter," he warned him, returning his attention to his daughter. "(Y/n), listen to me. The path you have chosen is one of treachery and rebellion. Shao Kahn is not one to be defied."
"Shao Kahn's rule is one of tyranny and oppression. I cannot condone such actions, even if it means challenging him," (Y/n) asserted.
"(Y/n), you have always been headstrong, just like your mother," he said, his voice laced with a tinge of regret. "But know this: defying Shao Kahn will come at a great cost. He is not a forgiving ruler."
(Y/n) took a step forward, her voice firm and resolute.
"I am willing to face those consequences. I have chosen my own path, one that brings me happiness and fulfilment. I will not be swayed by fear."
Quan Chi's patience wore thin, his eyes narrowing as he prepared to attack.
"If she will not come willingly, then we shall take her by force."
As Quan Chi moved forward with malicious intent, (Y/n) braced herself, ready to defend herself against the impending attack. Even when she hated her roots, the evil blood within her, she would still draw from it, understanding her power as she summoned the magic in her fists.
He struck her, but naturally, she was quick to block his attack, countering it.
The force of their clash sent shockwaves through the room, rattling the furniture and causing the windows to tremble.
Ermac, seeing the intensity of the confrontation, decided to join the fray. He extended his hands, conjuring ethereal energy tendrils that snaked towards (Y/n), attempting to ensnare her and restrict her movements.
(Y/n) swiftly maneuvered, evading Ermac's grasp and retaliating with a concentrated burst of energy. The impact sent Ermac flying backward, crashing into the wall with a resounding thud.
Quan Chi, undeterred by his comrade's setback, stepped forward with renewed determination. He summoned dark magic, forming a spectral blade in his hand, and lunged at (Y/n) with a swift and deadly strike.
Anticipating his attack, (Y/n) deftly sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the blade's lethal trajectory. With lightning speed, she unleashed a series of precise and calculated strikes, channeling her inner strength and training to counter Quan Chi's aggressive assault.
Their battle raged on, the clash of their powers echoing throughout the room. Despite being outnumbered, (Y/n) refused to yield, drawing upon her resolve and tapping into the depths of her own innate abilities.
As Ermac recovered, he saw (Y/n) was open and vulnerable while she battled Quan Chi, and saw and opportunity to land a decent blow on her. With a surge of telekinetic force, he aimed to strike her with a devastating blow, intent on exploiting her momentary vulnerability.
However, just as Ermac was about to make contact, a sudden gust of wind whipped through the room, knocking him off course and sending him sprawling to the floor. Confusion washed over him as he tried to comprehend what had just happened.
Shang Tsung ordered the two to stop kombat for a moment as he observed the new arrivals.
Joining (Y/n) at her sides was the storm brothers, though Fujin was the one who made the saving attack, while Raiden held out an electrified fist in a warning way.
"Are you alright, (Y/n)?" Fujin asked, briefly looking her down though he was quick to receive an answer in a single, reassuring nod.
"On what business do you show yourselves here?" Raiden demanded, his voice booming with authority as he spoke.
"To come and retrieve what is rightfully mine," Shang replied, his hand held out in (Y/n)'s direction, "my dear daughter."
"She does not belong to you," Fujin asserted, taking a protective step in front of the woman. "She has made her own choices and forged her own path. She belongs to herself."
Shang Tsung's face contorted with a mix of frustration and longing.
"You may try to shield her, but her bloodline ties her to Outworld. She has responsibilities that cannot be ignored."
Fujin placed a hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder, his voice gentle yet unwavering.
"She has found her purpose, and it is not for you to decide."
The sorcerer felt rage build in his body, and that rage began manifesting as green magic which swirled violently around him.
"Fujin...you have stolen from me...the only thing I had left," Shang growled as the air grew heavy with his power, creating an ominous atmosphere in the room. "You seduced her, you filled her head with lies, and you stole my only daughter away from me."
"I have taken nothing from you, Shang Tsung," Fujin deflected. "(Y/n) made her own choices, and I stand by her side."
"Father, please understand that I have found my own purpose and happiness with Fujin," (Y/n) cut in, stepping out from behind Fujin. "This is not about betrayal. This is about allowing me to find my own path. I long for compassion, and justice, and freedom...things that servitude for Outworld will not allow."
Shang Tsung's anger flared once again, his magic intensifying.
"Your words mean nothing to me! You are my daughter, and I will not let you be swayed by false promises and illusions of righteousness!"
Raiden and Fujin brought their defences up, ready to engage in kombat with the sorcerer who posed their home and new ally a great threat. However, (Y/n) stepped between both of them, a hand on each of their shoulders as she stayed staring at her father.
"...I cannot have you fight this battle for me," she declared, her courage unwavering, "I would appreciate if you kept the other two at bay. But...please, leave my father to me."
Raiden and Fujin exchanged concerned glances, recognizing the passionate resolve in (Y/n)'s eyes. Reluctantly, they nodded, understanding that she needed to confront her father on her own terms.
"Very well," Raiden agreed, his voice filled with caution.
Fujin placed a reassuring hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder.
"We will be nearby, ready to assist if needed."
With their support, (Y/n) took a step forward, separating from Raiden and Fujin while they went ahead and ensured that Quan Chi and Ermac would stay well away from the father and daughter. She faced Shang Tsung, her gaze steady.
"Father, I understand your anger and your desire to protect me, but I am no longer the child you once knew," (Y/n) spoke, her voice firm but filled with compassion. "I have grown and found my own path—one that aligns with my beliefs and desires. I cannot turn my back on who I have become."
Shang Tsung's expression wavered between anger and heartbreak. "You know not what you do, my daughter. Outworld needs your power, your bloodline."
(Y/n) shook her head, her voice unwavering.
"Outworld's need for power does not justify the suffering it inflicts. I choose to fight for a world where compassion and justice prevail, even if it means defying my own bloodline."
With that, the battle between father and daughter commenced. Shang Tsung unleashed powerful strikes of dark magic, while (Y/n) relied on her agility and skill to evade and counter his attacks. The clash of their powers echoed through the room, their emotions intertwined with every strike and parry.
But as the battle raged on, (Y/n) realized that defeating her father physically would not be enough to break the cycle. She needed to reach him on an emotional level.
With a burst of determination, (Y/n) channelled her inner strength, focusing her energy into a single, concentrated attack. She unleashed a burst of powerful light that enveloped Shang Tsung, temporarily immobilizing him.
As Shang Tsung's magic waned, (Y/n) approached him cautiously, her voice filled with a mix of sadness and resolve. "Father, I do not wish to fight you. I only want you to understand my choices."
Her eyes began to tear up a little, and her voice quivered ever so slightly.
"I love you father, but I cannot let your desire for power and control dictate my life. I have to follow my own path, even if it means standing against you."
(Y/n) noticed her father's gaze soften, ever so slightly. Even with the subtle change, she knew she had flicked some sort of switch in him. However, in her moment of weakness, he broke free. He lunged at her, an arm outstretched as he grabbed for her. She was quick to dodge any attack, though her father's hand did brush past her face and touch her hair. At this, he retreated, summoning Quan Chi and Ermac to his sides with the click of his fingers, to which they ceased their respective kombat.
"You are a disappointment, (Y/n). I gave you a chance to choose the right path, but you persist in defying me," he sighed, pained by his own words though he shook his head, looking between the other two men, "she is a lost cause. We must go. Now."
Without so much as another word, the three of them disappeared, a black smoke clouding around where they once were.
As they disappeared, a momentary silence filled the room. The tension slowly dissipated, leaving behind a mix of relief and lingering unease. (Y/n) stood there, her heart heavy with conflicting emotions.
Raiden sighed, relieved that the immediate threat was now gone, though he remained vigilant.
"I will go and scout the rest of the temple and the surrounding area to ensure that they're gone," he told the two of them, Fujin nodding as he watched his brother walk away, disappearing into the next hallway.
Fujin remained behind with (Y/n), placing a gentle, affectionate arm around her shuddering body as he tried to comfort her.
"Everything is alright now, my feather," he cooed to her, rubbing comforting circles on her back, "it's over, he is gone."
(Y/n) didn't say anything, nor did she look up at Fujin when he spoke. He gave her patience, as he always did, and within a moment, she threw herself at him, burying her face in his body as she allowed him to wrap her up in a safe, loving embrace.
When she did this, he realised something. She was trembling so much because she was crying.
"It's okay to let it out, my love," Fujin whispered softly, his voice filled with empathy. "I'll hold you for as long as you need me to."
At his words, (Y/n)'s silent tears grew into louder sobs, and she clung to him, her tears dampening his embrace. He could feel the weight of her pain, the depth of her emotions, and it tore at his own heart.
As she became overwhelmed by her own extreme emotions, she felt her knees buckle, though Fujin wouldn't let her fall. Instead, he eased her toward the ground, and there the two of them sat, the wind god holding his lover as she sobbed and wailed at the reminder of her loss, a reminder of who she had been grieving.
He let her release her pain and sorrow, allowing her to express her emotions without judgment or interruption. His touch remained tender and comforting, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of her grief.
He whispered soothing words, offering reassurance and understanding in the midst of her anguish.
"I am here to share your burden, my dear. You are not alone in this."
(Y/n)'s cries echoed through the chamber, carried on the waves of her emotions. Fujin remained a constant source of support, his embrace unwavering as he allowed her to grieve the shattered relationship with her father.
Time seemed to stand still as they sat there, wrapped in each other's arms. Fujin held (Y/n) as her tears subsided, her sobs gradually easing into quiet hiccups. He gently brushed her hair, offering silent comfort and a sense of security.
In the stillness of the moment, Fujin spoke softly, his voice a gentle breeze that carried reassurance.
"I know this pain is profound, my love. It will take time to heal, but remember that you have the strength within you to overcome it. Your resilience and determination will guide you through this dark chapter."
He cupped her face with both of his hands, wiping each tear stained cheek with his thumbs as he stared at her glistening face.
"Now, why don't we clean this mess up, and boil another pot of tea. Hey?"
-
"We cannot yet return to Shao Kahn, Quan Chi. Not without my daughter."
"But we left your daughter behind at the Sky Temples! How do you propose we obtain her now?!?"
"We don't have to obtain her. I have another plan."
Shang Tsung and Quan Chi argued as they made their way underneath Shao Kahn's castle, as per Shang's request though Quan Chi wasn't quite sure what he was getting at.
Shang Tsung's eyes gleamed with a cunning glint as he led Quan Chi deeper into the hidden chambers beneath the castle. The corridors were dimly lit, the air thick with ancient magic and treacherous intent.
When they made it to Shang's flesh pits, it struck the Netherrealm Sorcerer and he finally realised what exactly was going on.
"After having spent so much time experimenting to create Mileena, I have come up with the perfect blueprint to create life," Shang began, approaching one of his workbenches.
From within his satchel, he pulled out a single hair. (Y/n)'s hair. One which he had plucked from her head before departing.
"With this, I can create a new (Y/n)," he explained, looking toward Quan Chi, "though I need your assistance specifically."
"Why is that?" Quan Chi asked, sceptical of his plan.
"Because, as you may recall, Mileena was spliced with Tarkatan DNA. The creation was a success, however..."
Shang Tsung eyed the hair of his daughter with evil intent.
"...I am looking to create a more powerful specimen. I need the DNA of an Oni."
-
Okay fellas I'm absolutely drawn into this so like, lemme know if you want a part 3.
115 notes
·
View notes
Text
Endless Echoes
─────────── ❖ ───────────
Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader
Word Count: 1.100
I wasn't happy with this story so I decided to rewrite it. It ended up turning into a whole other story, even though it's essentially the same. Hope y'all like it.
─────────── ❖ ───────────
The sound of the door closing echoed through the empty apartment. He turned around and locked the door. The space was almost claustrophobic in its simplicity: an old sofa, a beach chair next to the window, a wooden coffee table, and a rug that seemed to have been forgotten in time. The walls were bare, with no paintings or photographs to bring the place to life. Not that he cared, furniture was just furniture. And nothing more.
He looked around and sighed, feeling the weight of his exhaustion increase.
His shoes made a rhythmic sound against the wooden floor, echoing throughout the apartment. He walked towards the kitchen, and upon reaching it, he opened the fridge, feeling the cold and humid air hit his face. With his other hand, he grabbed a glass pitcher. He left the fridge door open, illuminating the room. Then, he took his phone out of his pocket and played the voicemail.
"Hey Simon, it's me. I've been thinking about some things, about us and... there are so many things left unsaid between us. I feel like I need to talk about it, or it's going to suffocate me, devour me alive, you know? So, if you want to ignore this message, it's okay." His heart raced as he heard her voice. He felt a tightness in his stomach, a mix of anxiety and sadness. He wanted to call her. He wished he could just pick up his phone, call her number, and said everything he was thinking to her. But instead, he just listened, letting her voice seep into his mind. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.
"I just left, without goodbyes... Looking back now, I regret so much leaving you. You deserved a proper goodbye, but I... if I saw you again, I know I couldn't leave. I need to be honest, even if it hurts. I still love you, but sometimes love isn't enough to make us stay, you know?" Her words cut like blades into his heart, tearing open old and new wounds. She tried to stay calm, but her voice trembled, betrayed by the pain she was trying to hide. Simon, on the other hand, remained silent, trying to process the flood of emotions that was invading his chest.
"You know, I wanted to be strong, to be the rock you needed, but you shattered me into pieces, Simon. And now I'm here, trying to pick up the fragments of myself, trying to rebuild. I don't blame you, but I can't pretend anymore that everything is okay."
Her words echoed in his mind. He felt lost, bewildered. How could he have been so blind? So selfish? He loved her, but that wasn't enough. He wanted to be by her side, but he didn't know how to make her happy. He wondered what was wrong with him, why he couldn't love her the way she deserved. The truth was that he was scared. Scared of commitment, scared of opening up to her, scared of being vulnerable. And now he was alone, without her. He wondered if he would ever find someone who loved him and understood him the way she did. He wondered if he deserved that. Maybe he did.
"I just...I...Shit. I just wish it was you." Her voice was trembling. "Did I make your life brighter? Did I bring you comfort? I keep wondering what I could have done wrong. Where did I go wrong? Do you think of me as often as I think of you? Do you want me back? If you do, why haven't you reached out to me? Or maybe you don't want to. Maybe you're relieved that I'm out of your life. Maybe you hate me now for unearthing what was buried deep."
His eyes were fixed on the glass, watching as the drops slowly formed and trickled down its exterior, like tears streaming down his soul. There was no rush, no urgency. Maybe the water in the glass could wash away the pain he felt. Maybe it could ease the ache in his chest. Or maybe it was just a distraction, a small momentary comfort to alleviate the pain of loneliness.
"I sincerely hope you're doing well...Simon. Goodbye."
"Did I make your life brighter?"
Yes. He thought.
The morning sun at eight o'clock shone on her face, illuminating her light brown hair and golden skin. She was always more beautiful when exposed to sunlight, shining like gold. He had been awake since six AM, watching her all this time. She was beautiful, more than beautiful. There were no words to describe it. She was life. She was happiness. She was humor. She was wit. She was color in his gray world. She slowly woke up, annoyed by the sunlight in her eyes.
Her eyes opened, copper-brown. Kissed by the sun, by life, by God, and all the good things in the world. How he wished he could put it into words. She looked at him, and he felt naked, although he was actually naked.
"Weirdo," she said, her voice still sleepy.
"You snore," he said.
"I don't snore," she replied, irritated.
"Louder than many soldiers. You should see a doctor," he joked.
"Keep it up and you'll be without sex for the next six months," she threatened, snuggling up to him and going back to sleep.
He snapped out of his trance and looked around the apartment. His apartment was shrouded in darkness, with the only illumination coming from the city streetlights outside. He made his way back to the living room, taking his glass of water with him. His hand was shaking and his breathing was heavy. When he reached the living room, he placed the glass of water on the floor next to a beach chair. Slowly, he sat down in the chair, feeling his tense muscles loosen. He took the last cigarette from the pack, staring at the empty box for a moment before lighting it. The smoke wafted slowly, a gray trail that mixed with the darkness of the room. He looked outside, watching the distant lights shining like artificial stars. The muffled sound of the city entered his ears, a constant hum, but it was better than silence. The loneliness and emptiness of the apartment were suffocating, and he felt as if he were being crushed by immense pain. Sadness overtook him, heavy like a wet blanket, and he just sat there, motionless, for a long time. Just watching the city.
After an eternity of reflection, immersed in his own melancholy, listening only to the ticking of his clock, he picked up his glass of water. It was at room temperature, but he drank it anyway. It wasn't good, not by a long shot. He lifted the glass near his face, holding it at eye level, and began to spin it slowly. He played with the glass, spinning, maneuvering.
Empty.
Completely empty.
#modern warfare 2#modern warfare ii#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley headcanons#call of duty mw2#cod imagine#simon riley x you#simon riley x y/n#cod mw ghost#ghost cod#ghost mw2#mw2 fanfic#ghost call of duty#ghost headcanons
138 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mobius looks away from the report on his screen, up to the clock on the wall by the emergency exit. It takes a moment before the hands swim into focus. Four fifteen. The long, dark tea-time of the soul. Too early to slip out unnoticed, too late to start anything new. He rubs his eyes, which burn from the light of the screen and the flickering fluorescent overhead. He takes a deep breath and puffs out his cheeks as he blows it out, pursing his lips to make a sound like a miniature whoopie cushion.
"Who let the baby elephant in?"
His head snaps toward the owner of the voice. It's Ravonna, standing on the navy-grey speckled carpet outside his cubicle in her stockinged feet, one hand in her cardigan pocket and one holding a steaming mug of tea
Mobius turns back to his desk and collapses his chin into his palm. "Just trying to get these reports done. Seems like I'm behind a desk more often than not recently."
"That's what it's like at the top, Mobius. If you really want that promotion to Research, you gotta put in the paperwork time, just like the rest of us."
"The ole' ladder of success is greased by bureaucratic ink, huh?"
"Sure is. Keep it up, day's almost done." She raises her mug to toast him, then wanders off.
He calls after her, "You know, when I signed up for this, I didn't think the most dangerous part of the job was getting papercuts!"
She gives a laugh from several cubicles away but doesn't turn back.
Mobius picks up a kush ball off a stack of books and yo-yos it absentmindedly by one elastic cord. He glances around his cluttered desk at an array of more fidget toys, pens and paperclips, office supplies and folders and binders. His kids, holding a soccer ball and a trumpet respectively, peer out with fake smiles from a "World's Okayest Dad" frame. He smiles. It was a father's day gift, his ex probably bought it out of spite. He doesn't begrudge her, though. He loves it. He glances at the clock again. Four seventeen.
It's not like going home early would be any better than being here. It's not his night with the kids. He'll just heat up a lonesome microwave dinner and watch something mind-rotting. Maybe catch up on his reading.
He rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck, then straightens himself at the keyboard. Might as well finish the report. Maybe knock off another after this one, too. Burn some midnight oil. It'll look good if he's still at his desk when Ravonna leaves, anyway.
. . .
Mobius opens another set of double doors and enters the space. It's another large empty room, hastily abandoned or never occupied. Lights half off, and a glowing exit sign paints the far corner green.
He hurriedly sets out across the room, but stops suddenly in the middle.
The carpet is a navy blue-and-grey static pattern that looks strangely familiar. He looks up. The walls are a tone of warm gray he knows well. Mobis takes a step forward. Then another. In a few more steps, he's standing under a flickering fluorescent light. He stops and turns.
There are the indentations on the carpet where the walls of the cubicle should be. There are the five points of the wheels of his chair. He looks toward the exit sign. There, on the wall, is a circle of brighter white - as if something was hanging there, blocking the light that yellowed the wallpaper around it. A clock.
This is the the SCP office where Mobius works.
Only that's impossible. It couldn't be this cleared out. He was just here earlier this afternoon. Wasn't he?
What day is it?
How long have they been in this place?
. . .
Or: AU in which Mobius is an SCP containment officer, Loki is an SCP, and they get lost in the backrooms of the SCP building (it's bigger on the inside). The Polybius game, Sylvie and Hunter B-15 are intragal to the plot.
#i do need to actually finish the series first#i can daydream faster than i can watch longform tv apparently#loki#mobius#lokius#don't have a name for it yet#harrow.txt#my work
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
1989 tv as Jude x Cardan’s version
♪ Slut! ♪
Cardan Got lovestruck, went straight to my head,
Jude, Cardan thought, hating even the shape of her name. Jude. —how the king of elfhame learned to hate stories: the prince of elfhame is mildly inconvenienced
Jude Got lovesick, all over my bed / Love to think you'll never forget.
Back in bed, I push aside the curtain and let the sunlight spill in, brighter than any lamp. I take the folded-up paper from behind my pillow.
Smoothing it out, I see Cardan’s furious, arrogant handwriting scrawled over the page, taking up all available space. In some places, he pressed the nib so angrily that the paper tore.
Her brows knit together.
Jude, it reads, each hateful rendering of my name like a punch to the gut. —the cruel prince, chapter 14
Cardan Lovelorn and nobody knows, Jude Love thorns all over this rose.
I flattered myself that at moments you had feelings for me other than contempt, but even were that true, they would be but watered wine beside the feast of your other, greater desires. —the queen of nothing exclusive editions: Cardan’s letters to Jude
You love him, too, I think. You’ve loved him since before you were a prisoner of the Undersea. You loved him when you agreed to marry him.
Once this is over, I will find the bravery to tell him. —the queen of nothing, chapter 22
Jude But if I'm all dressed up, Cardan They might as well be looking at us.
This mortal was a girl, dressed in gloves and a long gown that appeared like the sky at night. She was of medium height, with hair the ted-brown of a willow tree. She had soft features and the solid grace of someone used living in her body. An acrobat, perhaps. Or a soldier.
The tail faerie boy who held her in his arms had a mess of black hair. His cheeks were painted in silver, his eyes edged in black kohl, and he looked drunk, his crown askew. The girl was glaring at him, and Kaye wondered how they wound up dancing together. Then she noticed the way he was looking at her. But that made things even more puzzling. —a visit to the impossible lands, the cruel prince bonus story
Jude And if they call me a slut, You know it might be worth it for once
“Is this really what you wanted? Him?” —the wicked king, chapter 7
But we all know what you lost.”
“Locke?” I laugh. “Good riddance.”
Her brows knit together. “Surely it’s not the High King himself you were gazing at.” —the wicked king, chapter 8
I’m there to whisper my counsel in his ear, as any seneschal might. The difference is that he must listen to me. And if he whispers back a few horrific insults, well, at least he’s forced to whisper. —the wicked king, chapter 1
Cardan And if I'm gonna be drunk, Might as well be drunk in love.
“Yes, my sweet villain, my darling god. I will be as sober as a stone carving, just as soon as I can.” And with that, he kisses me on the mouth.
I feel a cacophony of things at once. I am furious with him, furious and resigned that he is a failure as High King, corrupt and fanciful and as weak as Orlagh could have hoped. Then there is the public nature of the kiss, parading this before the Court is shocking, too. He’s never been willing to seem to want me in public. Perhaps he can take it back, but in this moment, it is known.
But there is also a weakness in me, because I dreamed of him kissing me for all my time in the Undersea, and now with his mouth on mine, I want to sink my nails into his back.
His tongue brushes my lower lip, the taste heady and familiar.
Wraithberry.
He’s not drunk; he’s been poisoned. —the wicked king, chapter 27
Jude Send the code, he's waiting there, The sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air
I realize what’s happening a moment too late.
A note told the Court of an assassination attempt, and the Bomb went looking for an assassin. She found someone hiding in the shadows with a weapon. Someone who had every reason to want to kill the king: me. // I feel a guard’s hand close on my arm. Then Cardan’s voice comes. “Do not touch her.”
A terrible silence follows. I wait for him to pronounce judgment on me. Whatever he commands will be done. His power is absolute. I don’t even have the strength to fight back
“Whatever can you mean?” Randalin says. “She’s—”
“She is my wife,” Cardan says, his voice carrying over the crowd. “The rightful High Queen of Elfhame. And most definitely not in exile.”
The shocked roar of the crowd rolls around me, but none of them are more shocked than I am. —the queen of nothing, chapter 16
Cardan The wrong place at the right time
I keep thinking of the steady way he looked at me when we were both naked, before he pulled on his shirt and fastened those elegant cuffs. We should have called truce, he’d said, brushing back his ink-black hair impatiently. We should have called truce long before this.
But neither of us called it, not then, not after.
Jude, he’d said, running a hand up my calf, are you afraid of me?
I clear my throat, forcing the memories away. “I command you not to allow yourself to be alone from tonight’s sundown to tomorrow’s sunup.”
He draws back, as though bitten. He no longer expects me to deliver orders in this high-handed way, as though I don’t trust him.
The High King of Elfhame makes a shallow bow. “Your wish—no, strike that. Your command is my command,” he says.
I cannot look at him as he goes out. I am a coward. —the wicked king, chapter 21
“I hate you. You sent me into exile. Everything you say to me, everything you promise, it’s all a trick. And I, stupid enough to believe you once.” The sheathed knife slides easily to my hand.
“Of course it was a trick—” he begins, then sees the weapon and bites off whatever he was about to say. —the queen of nothing, chapter 7
“It’s you I love,” he says. “I spent much of my life guarding my heart. I guarded it so well that I could behave as though I didn’t have one at all. Even now, it is a shabby, worm-eaten, and scabrous thing. But it is yours.” He walks to the door to the royal chambers, as though to end the conversation. “You probably guessed as much,” he says. “But just in case you didn’t.”
He opens the door to prevent me from responding. Abruptly, we are no longer alone. Fand and the rest of our guard stand ready in the hall, with the Living Council waiting impatiently beside them. —the queen of nothing, chapter 22
Jude And I break down, then he's pullin' me in, Cardan In a world of boys, he's a gentleman.
I am on the High King’s enormous bed, bleeding on his majestically appointed coverlets. Everything hurts. There’s a hot, raw pain in my belly, and my head is pounding.
Cardan stands over me. His jacket is thrown on a nearby chair, the velvet soaked through with some dark substance. His white sleeves are rolled up, and he’s washing my hands with a wet cloth. Getting the blood off them. —the queen of nothing, chapter 17
He’s every bit as terrifying as any serpent.
I don’t care. I run into his arms. —the queen of nothing, chapter 26
Cardan’s fingers dig into my back. He’s trembling, and whether it is from ebbing magic or horror, I am not sure. But he holds me as though I am the only solid thing in the world. —the queen of nothing, chapter 27
Jude This is luxury / You're not saying you're in love with me / But you're going to.
I let go of him and remain standing. I promised myself I would do this, if I ever had the chance again. I promised I would do this the first moment I could.
“I love you,” I say, the words coming out in an unintelligible rush.
Cardan looks taken aback. Or possibly I spoke so fast he’s not even sure what I said. —the queen of nothing, chapter 27
Cardan and Jude: Half awake, Taking your chance, It's a big mistake, I said it might blow up in your pretty face, I'm not saying do it anyway, But you're going to.
“Hear my judgment,” Cardan says, authority ringing in his voice. “I hereafter exile Jude Duarte to the mortal world until such time as she is pardoned by the crown. Until then, let her not step one foot in Faerie or forfeit her life.”
I gasp. “But you can’t do that!”
He looks at me for a long moment, but his gaze is mild, as though he’s expecting me to be fine with exile. As though I am nothing more than one of his petitioners. As though I am nothing at all. “Of course I can,” he replies.
“But I’m the Queen of Faerie,” I shout, and for a moment, there is silence. Then everyone around me begins to laugh.
I can feel my cheeks heat. Tears of frustration and fury prick my eyes as, a beat too late, Cardan laughs with them.
At that moment, knights clap their hands on my wrists. Sir Rannoch pulls me down from the horse. For a mad moment I consider fighting him as though two dozen knights aren’t around us.
“Deny it then,” I yell. “Deny me!”
He cannot, of course, so he does not. Our eyes meet, and the odd smile on his face is clearly meant for me. —the wicked king, chapter 30
“I need something from you,” I tell Severin.
He makes his bow. “Of course, my queen. Whatever is mine is yours.” // You already know how to end the curse.
“I do love you,” I whisper. “I will always love you.”
I tuck the golden bridle into my belt.
Two paths are before me, but only one leads to victory.
But I don’t want to win like this. Perhaps I will never live without fear, perhaps power will slip from my grasp, perhaps the pain of losing him will hurt more than I can bear.
And yet, if I love him, there’s only one choice. —the queen of nothing, chapters 25 // 26
Jurdan And if I'm gonna be drunk / Might as well be drunk in love.
“I knew little else, but I always knew you.”
And when he kisses me, I feel as though I can finally breathe again. —the queen of nothing, chapter 27
more 1989/tfota posts on #1989 tv as jude and cardan’s version tag
#1989 tv as Jude and Cardan’s version#jurdan#jude duarte#cardan greenbriar#the cruel prince#the wicked king#queen of nothing#htkoelths#the folk of the air#tfota#holly black#slut!#1989 tv#1989 taylor's version#taylor swift#tfota + lyrics
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
Monster /// Azriel X F!Reader
Summary: Azriel always saw himself as a monster, but his new found mate was there to show him that he was wrong.
Warnings: None, maybe a little bit of angsty.
Word Count: 2,8K
Notes: Adventure time is one of my favorite cartoons, and this is one of the best songs Marceline ever sang in the show, i knew from the moment i decided to do this project that this song fitted Azriel and i wanted to write it.
Song week
Main Masterlist
I know we'll never grow old together
'Cause you'll never grow old to me
You're the pink in my cheeks
And I'm scared 'cause that means
I'm a little bit soft
Azriel looked at the female in front of him, her big eyes looking at him so intensely that he shifted from a feet to another, uncomfortable as she kept quiet, the anxiety building up in his chest, he tried to hold back, keep it for himself, tried not let her feel in their newly found bond. The golden thread, tethering them together for the rest of their lives, glowed brighter as she explored it, he could feel the pull in his chest, pulling him straight to her arms.
He was afraid, his mind racing, he stood still, unaware that her eyes sparkled even brighter than the connection between them, just like him, Y/N have dreamed of this moment, longing for the feeling her friends and sisters have described, she grew up seeing what the mating bond was capable to do, how happy her parents were, how they loved each other like there was no one else in the world for them, like they were each others whole universe.
She never lost her hope of finding her other half, her equal in every way, even as she grew older and her past experiences with love weren’t that good, she imagined how they would met, how he or she looked like, what their children would look like, if they were going to be happy to have her as a mate. She knew that there was something special about Azriel the second he stepped on Feyre’s gallery, she have been friends with Polina and Ressina for a really long time, the passion for art brought them together, but with Polina’s passing during the attack on the city, things never have been the same.
When Feyre offered the two a place in the gallery, Y/N and Ressina were more than welcoming to her idea, Feyre would never replace Polina but her friendship was something Y/N cherished with all of her heart, the High Lady was kind, attentive with everyone and really talented so she fit just right with the two other artists. Sina and Fey were in the back when Azriel visited the studio for the first time, Y/N was sitting in front of her canvas, painting the night sky, her hands and face were covered in shades of dark blue, purple and black, she was so distracted that she didn’t noticed the shadowsinger entering, his eyes looking everywhere, both admiring the space and looking for his High Lady.
He caught the soft sound of the brush, his eyes falling on the pretty female sitting behind a huge canvas, he walked a little to the side, now he could see her fully, she was wearing a stained apron, underneath, black pants and a huge sweater covered her body, her hair was up in a bun with a few loose strand falling on her face, she moved her dirty hand, removing the hair from her eyes, staining her face with a purple line in the process, he then noticed the points of color she had on her face, probably from doing the same thing a few times. She was the prettiest female he had ever laid his eyes on, and suddenly he recognized her.
His eyes widened a little, she was the female he had saw in this same street, rushing people inside the stores, running with a kid in her arms, making sure she saved as many people she could save. He cleared his throat, trying not to startle her, she lift her eyes to him, drinking in the sight of the Spymaster from the night court, of course she knew who he was, but she never had saw him so close to her, she noticed his hazel eyes and how they carried a tint of gold when he looked at her, his fluffy black hair underneath a beanie, the snowflakes covering his heavy coat and his boots.
“Hi, you must be Azriel.” Her voice was soft, calming, a weird feeling of peace washed over him and all he wanted to do was hear her talking again. She got up, walking towards him, extending her hand. “I’m Y/N.” He looked at her hand, covered in paint, she looked at it too, ready to pull her hand back when Azriel gloved hand held hers, shaking it.
“It’s nice to meet you Y/N, have you seen Feyre?” His voice sent shivers down her spine, even with a glove on she could feel a spark of electricity as they held hands, it was briefly but she couldn’t help thinking if he felt the same, she looked for any indication in his face but found nothing.
“She’s in the back, you will find her that way.” She said, retrieving her hand quickly, he thanked her and walked towards the direction she indicated, leaving her alone with a tingly in her hand, the one she was holding close to her heart.
But don't beat yourself up Bonnie
It wasn't just the Sun that I was hiding from
We were messed up kids who taught ourselves how to live
And I'm still scared that I'm not good enough
He kept finding reasons to go the studio, no one understood at first why he wanted to go there so bad until Feyre invited the inner circle over, the three artists were waiting for them with pastries and tea, Fey was so excited for her family to meet her new friends, she was a really happier version of herself around Y/N and Sina. It took one look at the shadowsinger when Y/N approached him for them to know that she was the reason behind the changing in his behavior. All of them noticed Azriel tensed shoulders at her presence and how his eyes followed her everywhere she went, they also noticed how she smiled brighter to him than she did to the others, of course she was really nice to them but with Azriel was just something else.
He couldn’t help how his heart would hammer against his chest whenever she smiled at him, he couldn’t even count how many times he had to hold himself from cupping her face between his hands and kiss her, he wanted so badly but he knew he was undeserving, he didn’t dare touch her and ruin her pureness and innocence, she was an angel, he wasn’t good enough for her and would never be no matter how bad he tried.
She was light, while he was darkness, he knew she was just being nice to him, so he stopped visiting for a while, he wanted to protect his heart, he had suffered enough in his life, he didn’t need any more suffering, but he felt empty, alone, like something was missing from his chest, like he didn’t have a heart anymore, his heart now belonged to her, he felt like a hollow shell when she wasn’t around, he was firm in his decision even if this meant that he would end up miserable, he didn’t care, he just needed to stay away until this feeling vanished and he could go back to his normal self.
But it wasn’t any easier for her either, she noticed his absence and it was like she was being trapped under water, she has known Azriel for only a few months but now she felt like he was her air, and it was impossible to breath with him gone, her friends noticed how she looked after a few weeks, she smiled at them but it wasn’t like before, they saw how every time the door opened she would look up quickly and drop her gaze when she saw that it wasn’t Azriel there. Feyre and Sina were worried for their friend, trying to cheer her up but nothing seemed to work.
“Feyre.” Y/N came to her one day, her voice low as she looked at the blonde. “If you see Azriel, tell him that I miss having tea with him.” Feyre noticed her eyes filled with tears and her heart broke for her friend, it was obvious that Y/N had feeling for him, and he deliberately decided to ignore her? Feyre felt angry with his behavior, but she felt even angrier with the next words that dropped from Y/N’s mouth. “And please, tell him that if I did something wrong, I’m sorry.”
I've always felt like a Monster
Long before I was bit
But only seen as a monster
Let's just say I'm used to it
Ever since he was a little kid, people would treat him like he didn’t deserved any happiness and goodness, and as he grew up, with his job and all the dirty things he did, he knew they were right. He always felt like a monster, but he tried to brush this thought aside, it was impossible to do it though, when one day Feyre came to Rhys’s office, she knew the two of them were in there, she stormed in, her hands on her waist and a disappointed look on her face.
“What’s your problem Azriel?” He looked at her, honestly confused, she never talked to him like this. “You decided to give Y/N all of your attention, treated her good to disappear? She’s been so sad, she’s nothing like she used to be cuz she misses you.” Azriel blinked a couple of times, she missed him. “She came to me today and do you know what she asked me?” He denied, he felt small under his High Lady’s harsh gaze, he resisted the urge to cringe in his seat. “To tell you that if she’s done something wrong, she’s sorry for it. She thinks it’s her fault that you vanished in thin air, so if you have a fucking problem with her, be a grown up man and solve it with her so she can be herself again.”
Feyre left short after, Rhysand gave him an apologetic look, he knew why his brother decided to distance himself from Y/N, he tapped on Azriel’s shoulder before going after his mate. Azriel sunk further into his seat, he felt worse to know he was hurting her than he ever felt torturing someone in the chambers underneath the Hewn City. He knew what he should do, grabbing his coat, he left in a rush, something told him exactly where to find her, he ran until his legs protested and his lungs were claiming for air, his shadows a blurry behind him.
“She’s inside.” Sina told him as he stopped at the front door of the gallery, she didn’t looked harshly at him like Feyre did, instead, she grabbed his hand and looked at him in the eyes. “I’ve heard that the shadowsinger of the night court has a lot of problems expressing his feelings, don’t let her go Azriel, Y/N is unique and deserve to find love, don’t go in there if you’re not sure about your feelings.” Her words hit him deeper and he nodded, he was more than sure and was ready to claim her back. Sina smiled at him shaking her head approvingly. “Then go there and bring our girl back.”
He opened the door slowly, his breath uneven as the thought rushed in his mind,his heart was a drum in his chest, she was cleaning her space, the door closed behind him, the sound soft but she heard anyway.
“You can go home Sina, it’s going to take a while here.” Her head turned to his direction, she looked at him surprised, her heart stopping, he looked as beautiful as ever, his characteristic scent hit her nostril, she sniffed, letting the aroma mess with her head and her heart. “Oh, hello Azriel.” Her tone was heavy with sadness and he felt his heart breaking at the sound, she wasn’t like this and knowing that it was his fault made him feel guilty.
And I grew tough 'cause love had only hurt me back
But loving you is a good problem to have
And I'm used to that, but I could get used to this
Yeah I'm used to that, but I could get used to this
“I’m sorry I disappeared.” He blurted out, barely holding himself, his feet carrying him towards her, she looked even more surprised and leaned in the desk behind her, crossing her arms in front of her chest while she waited for him to continue. “I was scared.” He sounded small as he confession slip through his lips.
“Of what?” She rose an eyebrow and pressed her lips on a thin line.
“Whatever was happening between us, I’ve been in love with the same female for centuries, until I realized that she was never going to reciprocate what I felt. Every single time I reminded myself that I wasn’t worth loving and that this kind of thing just wasn’t for me, I was afraid of this…” He gesticulated between them he felt weird being so direct about his feelings but Sina’s words ringed on his head, so he kept going. “Because all that love has ever brought me was pain, I was trying to protect myself and I was foolish to think I could hide forever from this feeling, from you. You may feel the same or not but I just wanted you to know, you deserved the truth.” He was panting after he finished and a silent tear fell down her cheek, he was looking anywhere but her when he talked, but when his eyes lifted to meet hers, he felt it.
They both gasped at the same time, the mating bond was something special, unique, but it was even rare when it snapped for both mates at the same time, Azriel felt like he was being punched in the stomach, all the air left his lungs, the line between them was so clear that he extended his hand, trying to touch it.
“I’m sorry that you’re stuck with me.” The look in Y/N’s eyes changed, the joy fading and give space to anger, how dared he say such a thing when she couldn’t be happier that he was the one for her?
“Don’t you dare saying this ever again.” He looked at her, she was being serious, the burning in her gaze so strong that he could feel the heat.
“But you deserve someone good for you!”
“And who would be better than my freaking mate? Azriel you're my equal, my other half, the perfect match for me, can’t you see it?” She asked him in disbelief.
“Just because the Mother said?” He asked, now he was the one who was angry, she would never be like him, she would never be a monster.
“Because I know ever since I first touched you.” She yelled, stepping forward and running to the back of the studio, Azriel felt confused but she got back quickly, holding a big canvas, the anger faded as he looked at the portrait. “Because this is how a see you, no matter what you have done, you’re perfect to me.” He touched the paint, he never considered himself the prettiest of the males, but through her eyes, he was beautiful, he was pure, he was lovable. “I painted this after our first meeting, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. No matter how I tried to think about something else, you were in every thought that crossed my mind, from that day to this.”
And I know we'll never grow old together
'Cause you'll never grow old to me
You're the pink in my cheeks
And I love that it means
I'm a little bit soft
“You may not want this, because you think you don’t deserve a mate, but if you change your mind, I’ll be happy to wait for you.” Azriel blushed, his tough facade breaking as he stepped closer to her, cupping her face with his scarred hands, his lips met hers and he melted away, he kissed her like the world was about to end, they kissed until they needed air, they separated, both gasped for air, her lips were swollen and red.
“I never wanted something more than I want this.” He whispered and she nodded, turning away from him, leaving him confused, standing in the middle of the room, when she got back, Azriel almost collapsed on the ground, his knees felt weak and he could feel his body shaking, she was holding a plate filled with food and walking towards him. “Are you sure?” He asked one more time as she offered him the food.
“I’m sure, more than I’ve ever been in my entire life.” She grabbed a cookie, bringing it to Azriel’s lips, he opened his mouth, taking a bite from the dessert, they felt it at the same time, how the bond seemed alive and the love pouring from them both. “My mate.” She whispered to him.
“My mate.” He whispered back, for once feeling like he was getting everything he deserved in life.
You're the pink in my cheeks
And I love that it means
I'm a little bit soft
#Spotify#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel#acotar#sarahjmaas#shadowsinger#azriel x y/n#moonlightazriel#a court of mist and fury#a court of thorns and roses#velaris#night court#moonlightazriel song week
283 notes
·
View notes
Text
do u love the colors of the comphet
When it’s over, when Henry Creel is dead and dust and they’ve emerged battered and triumphant. When she and Jonathan have ended things. When there is no more fighting to be done, she and Steve give it another go.
She knows he’s going to ask the same way she knew in ‘83. There’s no waiting this time, no need to wonder if Jonathan might want her too. They gave it the old college try (He lied to her. He was lying to her for months, and she knew something was wrong before that. She thought they could work it out. She’s so fucking sick of lying to herself being lied to).
He asks with wide, hopeful eyes, running a nervous hand through his hair. He doesn’t have anything to be nervous about. She made up her mind before he even asked.
She can do it right this time. She can love this boy the way she wants to. The way he wants her to. They’ve both grown in the years since. She’s going to do this right.
That’s the mantra she keeps in her head when he picks her up and spins her. I can do this.
She can’t do this.
It’s somehow the same and different from when they dated the first time. They’re going through the same motions, but there’s something lacking. They’re both older, more jaded. They’re not kids anymore, and it shows.
They rarely kiss. He hesitates now in a way he didn’t before. Sex is something they don’t bring up at all. Eddie makes a crude joke once, something or other about what Nancy is like in bed, and she and Steve make eye contact. There’s something there, something like mutual understanding, before Robin smacks Eddie upside the back of the head and the moment breaks. She keeps thinking about it long after. Whatever it is that they shared, they don’t talk about it.
Maybe they’re lying to themselves, both of them. Puppets going through the motions, too stubborn to admit they’re play acting as real people. Still, she can’t give this up. She can’t make the same mistakes all over again.
Robin corners her two months into the relationship. Part of Nancy is surprised it took her this long. The rest of her is angry she brings it up at all.
Saying she’s cornered might be doing her a disservice. They’re having a sleepover, painting their nails and talking about boys. Everything a girl is supposed to do. Except Robin is awkward and fumbling, and every name she brings up sounds like a question. Nancy only has Steve to talk about, and barely talks about him at all.
Finally Robin sighs and puts down the nail polish. “I feel like this subject is making us both miserable,” she declares. “I don’t want to talk about boys, I was just doing it because I thought that’s what you’re supposed to do at girl sleepovers. I haven’t actually been to a sleepover since I was in middle school and the other girls decided I was weird, but I’m pretty sure the point is to have fun. This is not fun. This is agonizing. We should talk about something else.”
“Steve isn’t making me miserable!” She snaps, before realizing she sounds way too defensive.
Robin peers at her. “Yeah, see, that’s not what I said. That’s not even a little bit close to what I said. Maybe we should talk about this instead. What’s the deal with you and Steve?”
“What deal? There’s no deal.” She turns around and rummages through the nail polish selection. Robin doesn’t exactly have a variety. Her options are red, dark red, and black. She chooses the brighter red with the absent thought that the black would look good on Robin, with her long fingers and dark eyeliner. Then she banishes that thought away.
“There’s definitely some kind of deal.”
“There isn’t.”
“Nance.”
She can’t help but turn around then, drawn in by the tone of her voice. There’s a glass wall inside of her, and someone is pounding on it, trying to get out. She wants Robin to see it. She wants someone to see behind the glass. There’s something in her trying to get out.
“Nancy,” she says again, eyes searing into her soul, “are you happy?”
She smiles, fake and fixed on her face. The glass stays firmly in place. “Of course I am,” she replies. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
The next time Robin wants to hang out, she’s busy with college preparations.
It’s not just Robin. She thinks everyone can tell something’s wrong with her. Eddie gives her these looks every time she and Steve are in front of him, like he’s putting together a puzzle. Her mom keeps trying to talk to her. Jonathan keeps trying to talk to her.
They know, she thinks wildly, every time. She doesn’t know what it is they know. She doesn’t want to find out.
She avoids them all.
When she and Steve go to dinner, the waitress captivates her.
Long, dark hair in braids. Long fingers tapping against the notepad. Dark eyes in a dark face. She’s always loved brown eyes. Nancy has never been one to be jealous of other girls (lie, lie, lie), but suddenly heat floods her body. She wants to be as gorgeous as this woman. She wants her full lips, popping gum. She wants the woman’s swaying hips as she turns and leaves their table. She wants— she wants—
She tears her gaze away to find Steve already looking at her.
The heat is dosed by the ice that fills her veins. All her senses go on high alert until she realizes he’s actually staring past her. She turns around to see the bartender. He’s handsome, she thinks, tall with tan skin and brown hair carefully styled. He’s talking to a customer, teeth shining as he laughs.
When she turns back, Steve has firmly fixed his eyes on her. She could almost believe he’d never been staring at the bartender at all.
There’s something there. Something just out of reach, something she could put a finger out and touch if she were braver. She doesn’t. There’s no gun in her hand here, no adrenaline to keep her going after it all falls apart.
“What did your dumb boyfriend do this time?” Mike demands, storming in her room. Nancy has half a mind to yell at him to knock first before she registers his words.
“Steve is- Steve is fine,” she says, startled. “He’s great, actually. Nothings wrong.“
“Then why are you so miserable all the time?” Mike accuses.
“I am not miserable!”
“You are! You both are, and neither of you will tell anyone what’s wrong, or why-“
“I don’t know why!” She shrieks. Mike falls silent, eyes wide, and Nancy suddenly realizes she’s crying.
“I don’t know why,” she repeats. “Everything is fine. He’s like, the perfect fucking boyfriend. It’s me, I’m the problem. There’s something wrong with me. There’s a beautiful boy who loves me, and I’m- I’m trying. I’m trying so hard to love him back, but I can’t. I can’t. There’s something wrong with me.” She’s desperate now, wiping away tears as she curls into a ball. She feels pathetic, crying in front of her little brother. She’s the oldest, she should be keeping it together, she shouldn’t let him see her like this. But she can’t help it. There’s something in her screaming to get out.
Mike, with all the grace and bewilderment of a newborn deer, gingerly pats her shoulder.
“Have you…talked to Steve about it?”
She gives him a cutting look. It’s probably not as effective as she wants it to be, with her red eyes and tear streaked face. Mike holds his hands up.
“I’m just saying! He’s your boyfriend, you should talk to him. And if you don’t want him to be your boyfriend, you should really talk to him.”
“I want him to be my boyfriend, I just need to get past whatever this is—“
“Nancy,” Mike says. “It’s not just you. He’s miserable too.”
“Because of me. I just need to—“
Mike shakes his head. “I don’t think it is. If it were because of you, he’d be acting different. More…kicked puppy, or whatever. He’s just being weird, and won’t tell anyone why. Dustin said he asked Robin, and she doesn’t even know.”
Nancy doesn’t have anything to say to that.
“I think you need to talk to him,” he says again. “I think you need to talk to each other.”
“When did you get so smart?” She asks, instead of crying again.
“I’ve always been smarter than you.”
She kicks him for that blatant lie.
“Are we holding onto a dead thing?” She asks out loud.
He rolls over and looks at her. She’s worried she’s hurt his feelings, broken his heart again, killed any chance they have at a relationship, romantic or not. Then he snorts.
“Robin got to you too, huh?” He asks, flopping back onto his back to look up at the sky.
“Mike, actually.”
“Mike? That shithead? What does he know about relationship problems?”
“Are we having relationship problems?”
“I mean,” he says, wry twist to his mouth, “we haven’t had any arguments.”
“Nope.”
“Or general drama.”
“That might be debatable.”
“There’s no need to spice up our sex life.”
She snacks him for that one, and he laughs. She props herself up to look him in the eye. His face is more open than she’s seen it the entire time they’ve been dating.
“I think you have to be in a relationship to have ‘relationship problems,’” she tells him. “Are we in a relationship?”
He visibly considers this. “I mean, I asked you out, and you said yes. And we never broke up.”
“We haven’t kissed in at least two weeks.”
“Did you want to?”
She takes a moment to think about it. “Not really,” she admits, and his face splits into a grin.
“Not that you’re not still wonderful, Nancy Wheeler,” he says, teeth shining, “but I don’t think I want to kiss you either. Isn’t that weird?”
When they dated in high school, it was like he couldn’t stand being away from her. He spent every moment he could kissing her, wherever he could. Sometimes it felt almost like a performance he put on for the people around them, lifting her up and spinning her just so everyone would know how in love they were. It was stifling at times, feeling like something to prove. Still, it was how he was, so in love he could burst with it.
Now, she wonders if it was always a performance. Maybe they’ve both been on a stage, and neither of them noticed the lights blinding them until now.
“It is a little weird,” she says finally.
“Right?!”
He holds out a hand to shake, the other one firmly in his pocket. God, she wishes she could love him. “Good go, eh Wheeler?” He asks, smile crooked and shaky.
She snorts. “We made ourselves and everyone around us miserable,” she points out. But she takes his hand.
#do u love the colors of the comphet au#nancy wheeler#robin buckley#steve harrington#lesbian Nancy Wheeler#gay steve harrington#stranger things fanfic#stancy but make it the most tense awkward awful decision these two have possibly ever made. out of a lot of awful decisions#blah blah blah smth ab growing up and growing older and wanting a redo for your past mistakes#and wanting to feel the way you did before it all went wrong#but you realize that maybe you were idolizing that past version of yourself that never really existed#and maybe you never wanted it in the first place. maybe you only told yourself you did#maybe it would have gone wrong anyway#i don’t outright say Steve or Nancy are gay in this but it’s HEAVILY hinted at#they’re not ready to admit it to themselves yet. and that’s okay. the world isn’t ending. they have time#*slaps roof of nancy wheeler* this baby can fit so much projection in it#i feel like I need to say I’m not anti-stancy. i actually do like stancy when it’s done well. HOWEVER#i don’t think bringing it back two seasons later in one of the weirdest ways possible is doing it well I’m sorry#Maybe if we get a stoncy make out sesh in s5 I’ll change my mind#*crossing my fingers for a post-monster killing stoncy make out sesh in s5*#the ONLY ship I want to be canon. and the one least likely to happen. it’s so hard shipping polyamory I should watch sense8#why did I go on this rant. idk. enjoy <333
103 notes
·
View notes
Text
Klaus Soulmate AU Part 5
Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Reader
Word count: 2,391
Warning(s): implied smut
Klaus’ affection grew over the following days. You still came to visit him while he painted and gradually you even started sitting closer within arms reach. Klaus started to enjoy his mornings more because it meant starting his day with the one he had grown to love. Meal times became more enjoyable as he started showing up. The smile on your face when you talked and laughed was enough to take his mind off all the troubles and traitors he had to deal with.
One morning you woke to a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a note on your bedside table. You opened it to reveal neat cursive handwriting. Your heart skipped a beat at the words on the small piece of paper.
I saw these this morning, love and they were almost as beautiful as you..
Yours truly, Klaus
We really are making progress. You gave a little squeal, the day seeming brighter than it had before.
From that day on you always woke to a treat and a little note from Klaus that brought a smile to your face. Sometimes it was flowers, other times it was a hot coffee or cookies. One morning you woke to only a note,
I have a surprise for you my love, meet me downstairs.
Yours truly, Klaus
You hurried and put your hair in a messy bun, changed into a nice outfit and brushed your teeth. Trying your best not to fly down the stairs, you stepped quickly in anticipation down the solid oak. There Klaus stood proudly in the kitchen. He did a sweeping bow to reveal a table full of food for two.
“My lovely lady,” Klaus grinned with a twinkle in his eye, “Today I am making you breakfast.”
Your mouth dropped open in surprise, joy overwhelming you.
“Oh my gosh! Klaus this is amazing!”
You ran forward, catching Klaus off balance with a hug. Klaus’ arms gradually came down from his grand gesture to return the warm hug. He could hear your heart beat going crazy and it made him smile. You took a step back, sheepishly breaking the hug. Your cheeks were pink with a blush which made Klaus smile even wider.
“Thank you so much for breakfast.”
“Of course, love. You always make breakfast for us and I wanted to return the favor for my lovely lady.”
There it was again. My lovely lady.That phrase and his accent would be ringing in your head forever as you committed it to memory. Klaus guided you to your seat, his hand gracefully touching your back. You felt chills run across your skin at his touch. It was like pure ecstasy. You were so caught up in Klaus’ loving expression you hadn’t even noticed him leading you to your chair until you bumped it.
“Here you go, love.”
“Thank you.”
You grinned and took your seat as Klaus sat in his next to you at the large table. You couldn’t remember the last time you were this awkward or nervous over a meal. If only you could freeze this moment time and never leave, never stop feeling this warmth and love from Klaus. It was blissful, the house was so quiet you were sure that he had cleared everyone out so his surprise breakfast wouldn’t be interrupted. The two of you were quiet for the most of the meal but you couldn’t keep your eyes off each other. Who knew Klaus mikaelson could make eating breakfast look so sexy? Klaus put a spoon in his mouth to lick it clean of his food and never before have you wanted to be a spoon so badly. You didn’t realize you had spaced out on Klaus’ lips for so long until he spoke.
“So, Y/N I was thinking we could go into town to get you a dress picked out today?”
“Huh? Oh- yes” you blushed furiously, “a dress for what?”
“For the Founders Ball of course.”
Klaus took another bite of food before looking up at you with a devilish grin.
“I want my lady to be looking her absolute best when we’re out, I plan on showing you off.”
There he went again calling you his lady- you were sure by now you were the shade of a tomato.
After finishing your food you started to pick up dishes.
“Here let me help you with that.” Klaus mumbled, brushing up against your body as he started picking up plates with you.
Washing the dishes had never been so exciting, it almost seemed like Klaus was slowly pushing his body up against you closer and closer.
You gasp as a splash of soapy dish water in your face catches you by surprise.
“Whoops.” Klaus snickered.
You return the favor with a splash at Klaus, leaving bubbles on his face.
“Whoops” you giggled
God how long had it been since you giggled?
Going back and forth, completely forgetting about the dishes, you and Klaus had a mini water fight in the kitchen.
“Ha ha!” Klaus grabbed your waist and hoisted you over his shoulder.
“Do you concede?”
“Never!”
Klaus tickles your side as you squirm in his arms, laughing so hard you wheeze.
“Do you concede now?” Klaus pauses his tickle attack on your body.
You whisper your answer as you try to catch your breath.
“What was that Y/N?” Klaus grinned, starting to dig his fingers in your side again.
“Never!” You squealed.
Klaus marched into the living room with you over his shoulder, still giggling like a child who had been caught after a chase. Flopping you onto the love seat, Klaus leaned in close to your face. You froze, you could feel his breath on your skin.
“Whatever shall I do with you, Y/N?” Klaus spoke softly
“Kiss me.”
Without missing a beat Klaus clashed his lips against yours, kissing you like a starving man. His tongue pushed your mouth open and you moaned. He pushed his kiss deeper and started to mess with your hair. When he pulled away you whined and he chuckled.
“How about we continue this later?” He touched his forehead to yours and you felt a heat pool in your stomach.
“It’s a date.”
“Now, let’s get you into town and find a dress that you love. We won’t stop until we find you the perfect dress.”
Klaus stood up and held out his hand to help you up. He pulled you up so gracefully you wished his hands should explore your body more.
“Let me go freshen up a bit and then I’ll be ready to go.” You smiled
“Sounds perfect, I’ll bring the car around.” Klaus kissed your cheek before turning to walk away.
—————————-
Looking into the bathroom mirror you touch a hand to your cheek where Klaus kissed.
“ I’m never washing this cheek again,” you muttered.
You fixed your hair as quickly as you could, being flung onto the couch had tangled up your hair but you didn’t regret it one bit.
Stepping out the front door you feel butterflies seeing Klaus sitting in the car, smiling at you.
“Ready, love?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You grinned, sliding into the passenger seat next to the hybrid.
You took a deep breath in and Klaus’ scent flooded you. How had you never noticed how good he smelled until now? You made a side note to steal one of his shirts later to bring to bed.
Getting onto the main road, Klaus rested his right hand on your thigh. There’s that heat in my stomach again. You leaned over, wrapping your arms around Klaus’ arm and rested your head on his shoulder. Klaus let out a low growl, he liked when you got close to him. He thought you smelled amazing and he didn’t know how he had missed it before. You had a feminine smell, lavender with a hint of cottonwood. Klaus turned and kissed your forehead. The drive to town went quicker than usual, it felt like. Before you knew it, Klaus had parked in front of the dress shop. You sat up and let out a shaky breath.
“You don’t need to be nervous, love. Don’t be afraid to take your time, we have all day just for us.” Klaus gave you a reassuring smile and squeezed your thigh.
“Okay.” You nodded and gave a small smile.
*Ding*
The cashier gave you both a warm smile as you walked in.
“Welcome! What can I help you with today?”
“I have a reservation time to try on dresses under Y/N, Y/L/N.” Klaus politely smiled.
“Of course! Let me get you checked in and we’ll start pulling dresses out for you to try on.” The girl smiled at Klaus for just a beat too long.
She turned to you, “I think the colors that would look best with your skin complexion would be dark greens, ruby reds and some royal blues.”
“Whatever you say.” You nervous laugh.
The girl escorts you and Klaus to a side room where there is a changing room and a little lobby with mirrors and chairs for Klaus to sit on while he waits for you to try on dresses. Only a few shorts minutes later and the girl had already reappeared with dresses for you to try on.
“Start with these and let me know what you think about the styles.”
The girl quickly ushered you inside the changing room. Klaus made himself comfortable on a chair in the cozy lobby, smiling as he watched you step in to change. The first dress you came out in was a deep blue with a nice cut waistline, fish tail bottom and sleeves that dropped down.
“What do you think, Klaus?”
“I think you look stunning my love.” Klaus winked.
“How are you feeling about the dress, Y/N?”
“Well, I like the way the waist and top fit me, I like the idea of the sleeves bring down a little bit but I’m not really a fan of the fishtail.”
“Alright,” the girl hummed, “the waist and top you’re talking about are called the sweetheart and I does make your collar bone look really nice. I’ll go back and find you some more dresses with this style.”
She rushed you back into the stall and then disappeared. The girl was like a rabbit with how quickly she left and came back. The hangers for the new dresses clicked on the rack as she squeezed back in with you.
“These dresses have a nice sweetheart line, I’ve grabbed some that are more ball gown style and even a couple with sparkles.”
After trying on almost a dozen dresses, and Klaus commenting how beautiful you looked in all of them, you finally decided on a dress. You and let’s both agreed that the dress that fit you most was a dark green ball gown dress with a sweetheart line and hanging sleeves that made you feel like a fairy tale princess.
Klaus looked you up and down in the dress, his hybrid eyes flashing with the desire to put his hands all over you.
“You look ravishing, Y/N.”
“Thank you, Klaus.” You blush.
——————-
The whole ride home you just wanted the world to freeze and keep you in that moment. Klaus’ hand was on your thigh again and you breathed in his intoxicating scent as you leaned against him.
“Tomorrow you and Rebekah have an appointment at the salon and spa.”
“Awesome.” You smiled and nuzzled his arm.
Klaus rumbled in content at your scent being so close to him.
You arrived at the mansion soon enough, you desperately wished for this moment between you and Klaus to continue. Walking inside, you start to head towards the staircase when Klaus stops you.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Um- my room?” You stammer.
“Last I checked, soulmates sleep in the same room.” Klaus had on a coy smile. “I may have made a phone call while you were changing.”
Klaus picked you up bridal style, eliciting a surprised yelp from you as he ran to his room. Kicking the door shut behind him he looks down at you.
“Klaus!”
You gasp upon seeing the room- you had never been in Klaus’ bedroom before but it was grand and magnificent and just radiating cozy vibes.
“I had Rebekah take all your stuff from your old room and put it in the extra closet in here.” Klaus grinned, “so what do you think, Y/N?”
“I love it!”
Klaus sat you down on the bed, and crawled up to hover over you.
“Good.”
Your heart started to race, Klaus being so close to you was making you want him in more than one way.
“Now, my love, where were we from this morning?”
“Kissing me?” You mewled
Klaus kissed you gently, starting to push deeper he opened your mouth with his tongue, this time he moaned at the taste of you. Pushing you up on the bed he grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist without breaking the kiss. You could feel the heat radiating from his member as he grinded against your core making you ache for him. You inhale sharply when Klaus breaks from the kiss and starts working on your neck, kissing your pulse point. He starts nibbling and you can feel him sucking on your skin, knowing he’ll leave his mark for everyone to see you are his.
“Klaus- more- please” you whine
Klaus growls and sits back to yank off your pants, working his pants off at the same time.
————————————-
The next morning
You woke up, slowly arching your back when you feel the heat of someone behind you. Heart racing you turn over to find Klaus staring at you smiling. The night came racing back to your mind and you grinned right back at him.
“Good morning, love.”
“Good morning,” you nuzzled into his chest.
“You look so peaceful when you sleep, I could get used to waking up like this every morning.” Klaus kissed your forehead.
“Mmmmm” you hummed.
Klaus rolled onto his back and pulled you onto his bare chest to snuggle. You close your eyes and take in his scent.
There may be troubles in life but right now everything is just perfect and you wouldn’t change a thing.
#klaus mikaelson series#klaus x reader#klaus mikaelson fanfiction#tvd klaus#klaus mikaelson#the vampire diaries#tvd fanfiction
33 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
pylsuparty
Alex
thyboantonsen
The Blogging of Pratt 894
scribblelegs
The Ramblings Of A Madman: A Memoir
shahimtiaz
Untitled
myhautellife
MyHauteLife