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#and i'm so sorry you're going through this :(
pseudowho · 1 day
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ummmmmmmmmmmm so i really haven’t been able to get that nanami thirst out of my head, the one where he has girls vying for his attention at all times but he only has eyes for you. THAT ONE MADE ME WANNA START KNAWING ON MY PHONE I LOVE YOUR WRITING BTW but can i possibly ask for something like how the reader takes nanami home after a nice, long, and full day of girls falling over themselves to get his attention and absolutely rocks his world to show that he’s yours….. you get my drift 🌚🌚🌚 (sorry if this ask is too long ive just been thinking about your writing and nothing elseeee 😭)
Oh, you mean THIS OLD THING? I get you...it's hot.
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...anyway:
"I'm just sick of it, frankly. It's disrespectful. A total wild abandon of even the most basic manners..." Kento ranted as you followed him through the door, biting your lip, your smile barely-there. You had been on Cloud Nine all day. Any time you had looked up, his eyes were on you. Any time another woman tried to touch him, he shied away as if she were poison. Seeing Kento completely lose his mind at Gojo's flirtations had been the final straw.
Kento may have worshipped you, but you were obsessed with him. You burned for him. You would walk through fire, if he would ignore the lick of the flames just to hold your hand.
Kento was so lost in his rant, that he could barely look at you, grumbling to himself as he stripped off his tie. He tossed it to the floor, stalking away, infuriated...before pausing, heading back and hanging his tie up with a huff. You heard him pace into the bathroom, hearing the taps begin to run as Kento drew a bath.
Knowing he was climbing into the tub to try to scrub away the covetous stares of other women, you waited. And thought. And pondered. And stewed. Each glance, each fingertip-brush of his sleeve, each filthy pointed glare in your direction. You festered with the audacity. While you were gracious, and magnanimous in public, in private, Kento was yours. You heard him slip into the bath. You slipped into something darker.
The bathroom door swung open, slowly, thoughtfully. You leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. Kento lay draped in the clawfoot tub in the bathroom, bespoke, and big enough for him to lie down without needing to bend his legs. Those arms that you loved, thick and corded, flipped over the edges, bubbles tracing down the edges of his biceps. He frowned, his eyes closed, deep in thought.
"I'm sorry." Kento murmured, finally. "I don't try to make other women...act like that."
You hummed, examining your nails.
"I know," you purred, stepping over to him, perching lightly on the edge of the tub, "you're just too...just too much, aren't you?" Kento's eyes flicked open at your tone, seeing your unbridled rage behind some gossamer veneer. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, as that hungry, vengeful gaze trailed down his naked body, a soapy Adonis. The bubbles masked how his cock twitched beneath the surface, too primal to restrain itself just for Kento's uncertainty.
"...darling?" Kento asked, swallowing thickly. He may not be in trouble, but he knew when he was in danger. You pressed one finger to his lips, your other hand beginning to trail circles across his chest, your gaze holding his own. The trails scorched, wildfires left in the wake of your touch. By the time your fingertips started grazing light circles over his nipples, Kento squirmed, his lips parting in a humid gasp beneath your finger.
"How could they know how it is, after all?" You whispered, your fingernails scratching lightly down his chest and belly, now. You leaned over Kento, your clothed breasts dipping into the water, bubbles rushing to invade the valley of your cleavage. Kento trembled, his mind going blank as you silenced him, held him hostage, blood rushing to his cock and making him dumb.
"How could they know that you fall over yourself to sink your tongue inside me?" Your fingers grazed through the honeyed hair on Kento's lower belly, and you clapped a hand over his mouth, capturing the muffled little groan in your palm. The tip of his cock, long, thick and ready, bobbed to the surface, pre-cum mixing with bubbles on his slit.
"How could they know the sounds you make when I ride you? The sounds you make when you cum down my throat? Show me them." You released your hand for just a moment, a husky, ragged moan bursting free. Kento's eyes beseeched you, for release from this blissful punishment. You bit your lip again, a wicked smile in your eyes, and god, how he'd start riots and burn cities for you for just one chance one shot for you only yours for your eyes alone--
"Look at you...such a big man. So strong. The truth is, you could pin me down and do whatever you wanted to me. And you do." You laughed, reaching lower to fondle Kento's heavy, aching balls beneath the surface, feeling him cry out, muffled behind your hand again, twisting and arching out of the water.
"But we both know that behind closed doors...I'm the one that has you pinned down, right? You'd drop everything for me...right?" Kento nodded frantically, a bead of sweat dripping down his chest. He saw stars when your hand gripped his cock, the squeeze tight and possessive. You moaned, soft and wet already, just with the silky-steel weight of him in your palm.
"So just remember, when you're dancing away from all those other girls..." Your hand gripped harder, netting Kento's desperate rumbling moans in your fingers, and beginning to stroke his cock, twisting gently from ball to tip until he bucked into your fist. You kept your hand still, letting him fuck upwards into you. You ignored the splashes as hot bubbled water crept over the edge, splattering onto the floor.
"...remember who you're dancing for, Nanami Kento." Kento was lost, overstimulated by your filth, the myriad erotic images you cast upon his vision, the sheer biting ownership you placed upon him...and, god, it was good. You moved your hand faster now, lubricated by the soap, masturbating Kento until he panted, his eyes glazed and hot beneath your hungry cross-examination.
Reaching for the showerhead, still working on his cock, you set the pressure high, and dipped it beneath the water. So lost was he in being wetly jerked off by you, Kento shouted, fucking upwards again to feel you aim the jet at his balls, forcing them to clench and tighten. Kento couldn't think anymore. Being edged so ferociously had him reeling, and his existence narrowed to just your hands on his cock your hands on his mouth the shower jet pulsing hot water at the base of his length.
"--do anything I'll do anything please-- get in here-- let me love you, please-- shit--cum inside you, please, I-- I can't-- can't take anymore--"
He felt his orgasm building at speed, feeling so pathetic, like a desperate rutting virgin, to be spending himself so easily in your hand. You released the showerhead, and he grasped at your thighs, trying to urge his fingers between your legs. He needed to dip his fingers into your pussy to make this orgasm golden, needed that wet heat around his thick digits--
You grasped his hand, licking his forefinger into your mouth, and Kento cursed aloud, crying out in anguish.
"--fuck...darling I promise I promise, I-- I--"
"...you...you...what?" You urged, fisting around his cock harder to drag him towards the edge. With the hook behind his navel, and the lick of your tongue against his fingers, Kento's eyebrows drew together, his thighs beginning to twitch as his balls tightened up, ready to spend himself in your hand.
You stopped, releasing Kento's twitching cock abruptly. Kento gasped, his chest heaving, rendered stupid and confused.
"...remember who takes care of you, yeah?"
Cooler than a winter morning, you stood, your breasts dripping with pre-cum glossed bubbles. Walking towards the doorframe, you turned, and blew Kento a kiss. He watched you with feverish eyes, gasping and twitching, leaned half forwards, white-knuckled hands gripping the tub.
"--don't--don't leave-- darling-- please-- so close, I--I'm so close..."
With one further bite of your lip, you rubbed his pre-cum between your fingers and reached down, dipping them just inside your entrance with a sweet, high moan.
Throwing his head back, cursing, and spitting, Kento came untouched, thick ropes of seed striping up his abdomen. Kento groaned, bucking against thin air and wishing desperately he was nestled, like your fingers, inside your tight little pussy, taken most of the way to heaven just by imagining it as he came.
You touched yourself to the convulsing, jerking image of him moaning your name, for months to come. Knowing Nanami Kento was yours, and knowing Nanami Kento was yours, were two different beasts entirely.
It was only when you heard Kento's hulking form stand from the bath, the water cascading down as if off a demon's back, that you realised it was your turn to be in danger.
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Blind!Reader who accidentally bumped hard into Mafia!Konig, hard enough for to Konig thought it's some punk who wants to pick a fight with him but only to find a cute girlie with a walking stick that sprawled on the floor because of the wall of meat he is (feel free to use the "you hurt your ankle!?" excuse for him to take Blind!Reader for his own)
Konig was ready to kill when he felt someone bump into him. A fucker should be blind not to notice this wall of muscles and bottled anger coming his way - and Konig sure as hell would make them blind if they are dumb enough not to look around when they are walking. His hand goes to grasp his gun - an instinct, in case the fucker wasn't just dumb, but an enemy...and then he hears a whimper. Clacking of a stick falling to the ground. Cute whimpers. Female whimpers. The "oh my god, sir, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to bump into you, but they changed the street layout since winter and-" God, you were fucking adorable. Precious. Pretty. Cute. Whimpering like a kitten when he helped you stand up, letting you clutch on his hands as a guiding line. Supported you by your waist while handing you the walking stick - and not letting go of your body even as you were trying to stand up without being wobbly. He knows you're probably fine, you didn't fall that badly, but he grasps for straws in trying to keep you by his side. Apologizes, even, his nervous and anxious self returning for a second as he understands that the situation isn't about possible murder. It's about possibly finding a cute girlfriend. Now, he obviously can't leave you to fend for yourself. Konig doesn't care that you survived on your own and is perfectly fine without him - he also doesn't care that you really hate having him dote over you like you're some helpless creature. He needs you by his side, preferably under him, and the fact you survived for so long on your own actually doesn't say anything - he needs to protect you, even if it means being as overbearing as possible. Even if it means simply picking you up like a lost cat and getting you over his shoulder, squeezing your ass one time before packing you into a dark vehicle. You can calm down by trying to memorize his face through your hands, and he can memorize himself with the curves of your sweet body. God, he is going to enjoy making you his...even if it means locking you up in his mansion so no enemy could use you to get to him.
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i-cant-sing · 19 hours
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Time Traveller AU pt 6
Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Time Traveller AU masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!
Its been a week since Baldwin finally came clean about the kiss with Charlotte, a week since you cleared of him "cheating on you", not that you cared if he did, and a week since you realised Guy tried and failed miserably to sabotage Baldwin through Charlotte.
Its also been a week over the due date you were supposed to return to Egypt to get your tools from Abbas, but its been hard to leave when Baldwin insists on spending time with you 24/7 because wants to make up to you for "suspecting his devotion to you".
He draped himself over your shoulders, caging you in his arms as he pecks your temple. "I'm sorry for making you doubt my love for you, princess. No, no- clearly, I'm the one at fault! Let me make it upto you~" Ugh, sometimes him being such a green flag is making it seem like a red flag. But you cant argue because... well, if you dont let Baldwin shower you in affection, then he might stop chanting "its my fault, princess" and change the narrative into "its your fault, princess and you need to be punished for doubting me- the KING, for slapping me- the KING, for thinking yourself so highly that you think i cant have all the women i want, me- the KING! To the dungeons you go, darling!"
Anyways, you both were now sitting down in the royal gardens, Baldwin's head laid in your lap as you worked your fingers through his luscious locks, absentmindedly braiding his hair while he made you tell some stories.
"And so, she found out her husband was cheating on her because she found out a jar of strawb- a jar of lard in her house." You looked down at his face, finding him already staring up at you, eyes full of awe. "And she doesnt eat lard. She hates it, so she never allowed it in the house."
Baldwin let out a small gasp. "And then what did this- Sharkerilla lady do?"
"Shakarina left Pickle. Divorced him." You told him, adding in small daisies in his hair. His face displayed pity. "Wow. And how do you know these people?"
You paused for a second. You cant explain to him how Shakira and Pique were celebrities and the concept of drama channels on youtube.
"We were neighbours." You hummed, patting his head. "There, I did your hair. Now I'm going-"
"No. Come on, we havent spent enough time." He whined, blue eyes looking at you pleadingly.
You scoff. "Baldwin, we've spent the entire day together. We ate breakfast and lunch together, we read books in the library, we looked at tiaras and crowns for the wedding, we even played chess." He lifted his head up from your lap and rested it on his palm as he leaned on his shoulder.
"And you lost all 5 games." Baldwin grinned, making you smack his forehead gently.
"I need to go-"
"Why?"
"Because I need to make arrangements for my trip to Egypt." You explained as Baldwin groaned, plopping his head face-first into your lap. "No." He mumbled against your dress.
"No?"
"No." He raised his head, pouting at you. "You're not going to Egypt. I miss you too much."
You gave him a lazy smile. "I'll be back soon."
"Not soon enough." He argued. "I have to go find my family, Baldwin." You continued on with your lie, raising a hand to caress his cheek. He sighed and leaned into your touch. "I can send the knights to find them." "They wont be able to. Only I will. Besides, I need to know what theyre like, if its even best to let them back into my life again, hm?"
He pondered over for a moment. "Then I will come along?" "What? Why?" He gave you a charming smile. "Because I dont want to part from you. Not for weeks, not for days, not even for-" He leaned up close to your face, eyes darting from your eyes to your lips back to your eyes. "-a minute."
Your face flushed and you looked to your side, using your hand to push his face away, making him chuckle as he grabbed the same hand and pressed a kiss to it. "You're so adorable, my little prude."
You shot him a glare. "I- I'm not a prude. But at least one of us should have a little shame."
He gave a chuckle, poking your still flushed cheek. "Shame? Whatever for? I love you." His eyes lit up in amusement as your head whipped towards him. Baldwin raised a brow at you. Its not the first time he's confessed, but... it still catches you offguard everytime.
"Did you hear me? I love you." He repeated, eyes still twinkling at how you continued to become flustered.
You opened your mouth and then closed it like an idiot, not knowing how to reply.
"Thank you." You finally said, looking anywhere but at him. He burst into a fit of laughter. "Oh god- I tell you- I love you and you say "thank you"? You really are something out of this world!" Baldwin teased you, making you huff.
"Lets not get off topic, Baldwin. You cant come with me to Egypt because you cant abandon Jerusalem. If your throne is empty, Guy- though he doesnt have the brain for it, or Salauddin or someone else will attempt to take your throne from you! You have a responsibility to your people! Keep them safe." You reminded him.
Baldwin stared at you before sighing, leaning back and resting his head on his arms. "You're always so smart, aren't you?" He smiled with his eyes closed. "I suppose it is a good thing that you care so much for your future subjects."
-
Next day, you were all set to leave for Egypt again. Baldwin and you stood at the gates of the castle as the kingdom all gathered around to bid you safe travels. You were ignoring Baldwin's stupid lovey dovey eyes boring holes into you, because there are people here and you dont want this blue orbed man to embarrass you.
But alas, he took your hand in his, making you look at him. He flashed you his dimples, bringing up your hand to press a kiss to it, the crowd cooing while you blushed (though it could be mistaken for anger with how hard you were frowning).
Tearing his eyes away from you, he addressed his people. "O people of Jerusalem! Your princess is going on an important journey. I ask you all to pray for her safety and well being!" The crowd looked on you two with awe, or more at Baldwin for being such a doting husband-to-be.
"While I know that your hearts must ache to see your princess depart from us for some time, I bring you good news to keep your hearts at peace as well." You looked at Baldwin in confusion. Good news? What is he talking about?
Baldwin smiled at you, the sunlight hitting his face at angle that made him look majestic.
"In 3 weeks time, the princess and I will marry!" Your eyes widened as the crowd erupted in cheer.
Baldwin hugged you close, and you whispered. "Three weeks? But I'll be gone for at least two! I wont have enough time to make-"
"Dont worry about a thing, princess. Sibylla and I will make all the arrangements necessary and trust me, it'll be a wedding for generations to remember." He pulled back, grinning at you as he pecked your forehead. "You just focus on returning safely, okay?"
Sibylla, Guy and their son were also there to bid you farewell. Sibylla pulled you in for a tight hug, promising to give you a grand wedding and that she'll keep your prefrences in mind. Their son ran off and Sibylla went to chase after him, leaving you alone with Guy.
"Bye." Guy gruffly said while you smiled tightly at him. "I know what you did, you buffoon." He looked at you slighted. "What the hell are you-"
"Charlotte? The letters? Yeah, we'll talk when I return. And you better not cause anymore trouble for me or else-" You turned to look at Baldwin, waving sweetly at him. Guy gulped, taking in your threat.
-
As usual, your first stop was at Salauddin's camp. You would go without stopping here, the knights Baldwin sent with you claimed to know the way but... you dont trust them to know how to survive the desert. And you knew you were right when some people from your caravan started feeling faint.
"Return to Jerusalem and take care of yourself." "But we cant just leave you, princess-" "You are not going to be able to serve me if you dont survive the desert. Salauddin's camp is near and with his guards combined with mine, I'll be more than safe. Go now. And tell the king that I insisted you returned." You assured them, commanding a few knights to guard them on their way back.
Looking ahead, you saw the sand hill beyond which Salauddin's camp was. Isabella, your lady-in-waiting, gave you your niqaab and chaddar.
-
"And then, he told me about who Charlotte was and what really happened. It was all a big misunderstanding." You told Salauddin as he moved his pawn.
"You believed him?" He raises a brow as you made your move.
"Of course! I already knew Guy was behind it. I figured it from the letters, and his face practically gave it all away when I confronted him about it." You reached under your veil to fan yourself. "Is it burning in here or am I just imagining it?"
Salauddin turned and brought you some cold water. "Guy could be a threat to you. Dont trust him."
You turned your head to the side, barely lifting your veil before bringing the glass underneath it to your lips, gulping it down as you let out a relieved sigh. "I know. Guy is a tool, and tools are meant to be used."
His lips quirked slightly at your words. Sitting back down, he played his move. "When do you plan on leaving Baldwin?"
"Soon. The plan is in motion." You took some time before moving your knight. Salauddin wasnt making this game easy for you this time and neither was the hot temperature.
He leaned forward, taking your knight with his bishop. "And how do you plan on doing that when your fiance has just announced your wedding date?"
You narrowed your eyes at him. "How did you- spies?" Salauddin's silence confirmed how news travelled so fast. "You dont need to worry. I'll be long gone before the wedding day."
"Care to indulge me on your plan?" He popped a date in his mouth.
"No." You replied making him glare at you. "If your plan involves relying on Guy, then you're even stupider than you look."
You scoff, pushing his king down. "I'm sorry, how many rounds have you won against me?" He smirks, though you suspect that he's just trying to cover up for being a sore loser.
"Maybe I just let you win so that you get to live." Of course, how can you forget his "win or you die" version of chess.
"Whatever you say, grandpa." His jaw clenched, making you chuckle. "Your existence gives me a headache. Leave."
As you walked out, you're suddenly hit with a wave of dizziness. Under your veil, your face is sweaty, you cant even use your hands to wipe it away because of how clammy they are, you even feel beads of sweat rolling down from your neck to your leg.
"Are you alright?" Salauddin came up behind you, eyes studying you stumbling a bit.
"Yeah- I'm just- hot..." You muttered, sweat gathering around your upper lip while your mouth felt like cotton. He watched you blink slowly as the sun hit you in the face, making you raise your hand to shield yourself, even though your muscle cramped.
"Y/n?" You heard him call you, but black dots clouded your vision and then in a second, you fainted.
-
You woke up to the sound of drums playing outside. Looking around, you recognised this to be the women's tent you had been in the first time Baldwin brought you here.
Isabella walked in, halting for a moment when she realised you were awake before rushing towards you. "Princess? Are you okay?" She poured you a glass of water, helping you drink it. "What happened?"
"You fainted from the heat. We were going to take you back to the kingdom but Sultan Salauddin advised us all to stay put here because the air was only going to get hotter for the rest of the day. And by night, it would be too cold for us to make it back." She smiled gently. "He was kind enough to offer us stay here."
You nodded and sighed. For sure none of you wouldve survived if you were to return to Jerusalem today.
You walked out of the tent to see it was night now. The drums you heard earlier were being played by some men of Salauddin's, accompanied by few women clapping and having an overall merry time around the bonfire.
You didnt spot Salauddin with them, but you suppose he's probably either working or resting.
The temperature had indeed dropped as night fell, and you wrapped a shawl around before joining the camp fire. You sat down on the ground with some women, smiling as they immeadiately welcomed you warmly. The one on your right was quick to show you her baby, and you recognised him to be the one you saved.
"Jibrael." She told you his name. The baby was almost a month old, and his chubby cheeks made you coo. Jibrael- or Gabriel, is an angel who acted as an  intermediary between God and humans and as bearer of revelation to the prophets, most notably to Muhammad (PBUH). In Christianity, Gabriel was the archangel announcing the coming birth of Jesus Christ and John the Baptist. In Judaism, Gabriel is a helper to Daniel and a warrior angel for God's cause.
You played with the baby for a while before handing him back to his mother to be put down for sleep. It was getting cold now and most had already left to go to bed now. You wrapped the shawl around you closer, snuggling into it as your eyes gazed at the dancing flames. You felt someone sit next to you.
"How are you feeling now?" Salauddin asked, keeping his eyes ahead.
"I'm fine. Thank you for catching me."
"I didnt. You fell. It was funny." You turned to glare at him (the respectable gap between you two did not go unnoticed... or unappreciated by you.) and perhaps for the first time you saw him smiling. Genuinely.
Though his thick beard covered most of his lower third of the face, you could see his sharp jawline that sculpted his face. Strong. Hard. His lips, bottom one appearing to be plumper than the upper one, were resting in a relaxed smile.
The moonlight seemed to soften his sharp features, but his kohl lined eyes adorned with luscious lashes shone with amusement and... something in the orange hue of the bonfire.
He turned his head to you. "What?" You were thankful for your veil covering your expression for being caught staring at him like an idiot. You shake your head, dismissing him, turning your head back towards the dying fire.
"What are you going to do once you leave Baldwin?" Salauddin asked, stoking the fire.
"Leave."
"To where?" You shrug. "Anywhere. Maybe try finding my family. Or venture somewhere else."
"He wont give up so easily." You rolled your eyes. "Yeah yeah, because he loves me and all-"
"He wont forgive your betrayal." Salauddin cut you off. "He wont forgive you for the embarrasment. He wont forgive you for the insult of rejecting a king. He wont just- let you go." He looked at you, his tone haunting as he uttered the next words.
"Baldwin will hunt you down. And he will make you wish you were dead."
You stared at him, processing his words. Baldwin would... hurt me?
"Are we talking about the same man?" You ask him with a light chuckle, though your throat has ran dry.
He nods. "I know he seems like he couldnt hurt a fly, and physically, he couldnt until you cured him. But I've seen him on the battlefield. I've had him as my enemy and I've observed him obliterate people who just tick him off." He offered you some dates, and you took a few. You were hungry, and these looked pretty good right now.
"Baldwin is smart, calculating. He's the king, he has the power to end his enemy very easily. At the drop of a hat. But he doesn't. He waits for the perfect moment, or rather creates the perfect chance to torture any man who had the misfortune to be on the receiving end of his anger. And he does it with a completely cool, clear mind." And even though Salauddin has fought Baldwin many times, they both know they're only fighting for their people, for their religion. Its nothing personal, so they're technically not enemies.
"So what do you suggest I do to not piss him off so badly? I've already tried rejecting him respectfully."
He stayed quiet for a few moments, stoking the fire. He smiled when he felt your curious eyes on him.
"There is a way." He said.
"Which is...?"
His smile widened even more. "You're not ready for it yet." You frowned. "Drop the act, Salauddin. You came here by yourself because you wanted to tell me the plan. Stop teasing and just tell me." He chuckled hearing you become frustrated.
"In due time, Y/n. In due time." You roll your eyes, standing up. "I'm not going to beg you to tell me. But your "plan", which I dont think exists, it better not mess with my escape." You stomped back inside your tent, and Salauddin snickered as you tripped a bit on your chadar on the way in.
He stood up, giving a nod to the rest as they all settled in for the night.
-
"Salauddin!" You cried out, your eyes full of tears that he could see from a mile away, even if your were wearing a niqaab. He could feel your agony, your distress. You were standing in the middle of the desert alone, the boiling sun along with your black chadar covering you from head-to-toe, would only be increasing your body temperature. Why were you all alone? He left you with his caravan. Or did Baldwin leave you in this harsh enviorment to die? Did he find out you were going to leave him?
"Salauddin!" You called out to him again, your voice wet from all the crying. This time, he rode his horse towards you. Fast. He needed to get to you, even though the galloping hurt his shoulder. Yes, he got wounded while he was fighting. He sustained many injuries, many gashes, so much so that by the time he reached you, his white armour had turned bloody. But he was not bothered by it, no. He needed to reach you. You. How long have you been out here? Arent you dying of thirst?
Your arms were still wide open, though drooping from the lack of energy. He could hear you sobbing as you called him again, and he all but ran towards you, bodies colliding as he pulled you into a strong embrace. Muscled arms wrapped around you, comforting you that he's here now. You're safe now.
Salauddin looked around as you bawled into his chest, trying to see if everyone had really abandoned you here and... left you die.
You pulled away from him, but Salauddin didnt remove his hands from you. And thats when he felt the cloth you were wearing. It was too thin. The sun must've burned your skin now. Is that why you're crying? You're in pain?
In a blink, he removed his own thick black chadar that rested on his shoulders and wrapped it around you, pulling it over your head to stop more heat damage.
"Y/n?" He spoke softly as you continued to cry so brokenly as he adjusted the cloth over your body. "What happened?"
"Y-you left me!" You blubbered. He shook his head. "No. I- I left to go in battle. I couldnt take you along. It was dangerous-"
"You left me, Salauddin! You left me here! Baldwin- he hurt me! He hurt me so badly! And you weren't here to protect me!" You sobbed out, your eyes red and swollen from the tears. "I am a part of the ummah! I am a Muslim! You- you were supposed to keep me safe! On your honour, I was in your care! Why didnt you save me, Salauddin?"
Salauddin felt his heart being crushed at your words. He failed to keep you safe? But... he was at war. What was he supposed to do?
He grabbed your shoulders, pulling you to his chest as he rubbed circles into your back. "I'm sorry." He whispered, shushing you as your body shook from tears. "I'm here now. I promise to keep you safe, Y/n. I will never leave you again. I will never let anyone hurt you again. I swear, Allah as my witness, I will do everything to keep you safe." You pulled your head back from his chest, your red eyes looking at him weakly.
"You're too late, Salauddin." You whispered and a sharp sound whooshed through the air, making your body jolt in his arms. You both looked down and thats when he saw it-
An arrow. Poking through your chest.
"Y/n?" His voice trembled, watching the life drain out of your eyes.
You fell, and so did Salauddin, catching your body. He couldnt- he couldnt believe it. He cradled you in his arms, readjusting the chadar over you again, softly calling your name.
Wake up. Wake up, Y/n. Return to me.
Footsteps approached him, though he couldnt bare to tear his eyes from you. He already knew who it was.
"Why?" Salauddin asked him.
Baldwin kneeled down to his level, staring at you for a moment before yanking his arrow out of you, making a stream of blood gush out. Salauddin panicked, tried to cover the gaping wound with his hand. He looked at Baldwin in disbelief. This... this was not the Baldwin he knew. Baldwin was never so cruel- so heartless.
"She deserved it." Baldwin stated before stabbing him in the chest.
Salauddin continued to hold you in his arms, watching Baldwin leave on his horse as you two bled out to your deaths in the middle of the desert.
Salauddin woke up with a jolt, his forehead sweaty as he breathed fast. He could feel his heart beating against his chest loudly.
Nightmare. Thats all it was. He was still in his bed, in his tent.
He got up to fetch himself some water, taking sips to slow down his heart. Judging from the darkness, he knew it was still nighttime. It was quiet, everyone was asleep except for a few men he left to guard them.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
Salauddin whipped around just in time to knock the shadowy figure standing behind him with a sword. In a second, Salauddin had overpowered and snapped his neck, only then realising more shadows moving outside his tent.
"We're under attack! WAKE UP!" He yelled before grabbing his two swords and running out to defend his caravan.
-
You woke up to screaming and Isabella pulling you out of bed.
"We're under attack!" She says, yanking you out of the women's camp that was set on fire. Your eyes were wide and for a moment, you were frozen as you took the scene in front of you.
Fire. There was fire everywhere. All the camps were ablaze, along with some people being burned alive. Haunting screams echoed the entire area. Time slowed down as you saw Salauddin's men fighting... some people. You couldnt figure out who they were, but you knew they werent the knights Baldwin had assigned for you. No, you saw them fighting these mysterious figures as well. They were covered in dark clothes to blend in with the night, had hoods and masks covering their faces but they fought skilfully and very fast.
"Princess, we must leave!" Isabella caught your attention again, dragging you away from the chaos. You saw her following a knight- your knight, who led you towards a horse for you to escape with.
Salauddin... where's Salauddin?
You looked back frantically and you spotted him in the sea of flames, cutting through multiple armed one with his two swords slicing them brutally.
For a moment, your eyes met and then in the next, he screamed your name.
Isabella had pushed you away just in time as two men came at you with swords. You knight yelled at you to run. Again, Isabella pulled you to make an escape but it wasnt long before you two got separated by a woman who was on fire, running in between you two.
"H-help her." You told Isabella who took of her shawl to put out the fire. In the middle of all this commotion, you heard a distinct cry.
A baby's cry.
Jibrael!
It was coming from one of the tents. You ran in, looking around for the baby before spotting the bassinet. You grabbed the crying baby and held it close to your chest, trying to shush it as you walked towards the exit only to halt when you saw who was blocking it.
The shadowy figure. He was wearing dark hood and mask, while the rest of his armour was made of leather. He was armed with swords, daggers and a satchel.
It clicked. Assassin.
The assassin stared at you with dark eyes taking a step forward. You backed away, holding the crying baby protectively to your chest. He tilted his head at you, and for a second, you thought you saw amusement in his eyes.
Slowly, he walked out of the tent without saying a word but he stood right behind the curtain of the tent. You saw his shadow pull out his sword before standing there still.
What is he doing?
You turned around, hoping to find another exit but thats when you saw it. Two more shadows stood outside the tent and then they dropped something on the tent walls.
Fire. They lit the entire tent on fire and stood outside with their swords, giving you the choice to either die by their swords or burn yourself alive.
The fire spread fast, burning the flammable tent easily. Dark smoke started to surround you making you cough. The baby continued to cry harshly and you pulled him under your chadar to protect him from the fire and smoke.
But you didnt realise it until it was too late. Your chadar, your clothes had caught on fire as well. You screamed for help, screamed in agony as your skin burned. It felt like you were being branded, felt like someone was ripping your skin off.
Is this it? Is this how it all ends for you? Suffocated, skin charred, body naked? In a period where no one knows who you really are?
You fell to your knees before hunching over the baby, cradling it in your arms as its harsh cries burst your ears, protecting him from being burned for as long as you can.
Allah... Allah... Allah...
Through the thick smoke, a figure ran and covered your body with a thick cloth, patting down to put out the flames.
He picked your trembling body up, your arms still wrapped around the baby protectively. He walked through the ablaze tent, his face still covered by the smoke, or perhaps your vision was too blurry.
He exited the tent, the smoke cleared out and a gush of air filled your lungs. But you were burned, suffocated and exhausted.
The last thing you saw before your world faded to black was Salauddin's face.
-
You woke up to the sound of Quran recitation. A gentle, steady voice read the words beautifully.
Fluttering your eyes open, you looked around the room for the source. To your side, you found Salauddin reciting the Quran with his eyes closed in concentration. Was he a hafidh? (Hafidh is someone who has memorised the Quran completely).
He opened his eyes when finished reciting, looking stunned for a second to find you awake before a small smile graced his lips.
"We're in Egypt now." He informed you before concern washed over his face. "How are you feeling now? I changed your bandages in the morning, but I think its time to replace them." He grabbed the bowl of water and bandages on your side.
"B-bandages?" He stopped before understanding your confusion.
"You were in the tent when the assassins set it on fire. Your... clothes caught on fire, which stuck to your skin and burned it as well. I had to remove the remains of your clothes to treat your burns-"
"What?!" Your eyes looked down to confirm his words, he had indeed changed your clothes. "Why did you-" Your hands touched your face, heart sinking as you realised your veil was not there.
"You removed my niqaab?! My clothes?!" Your fury was only a disguise for your fear of what he'd seen, what he'd done to you in your vulnerable state.
He shook his head. "I had to do it as soon as we were safe. You were hurt-"
"Why? Why did you have to do it? Why not Isabella or any of the other women?!"
His face turned solemn. "Isabella... was gravely injured. She was in no position to look after you. Most people- most women from my tribe did not survive. The few who did were also wounded. The men... I just thought you wouldnt prefer someone you didnt know to look at you in such state." Salauddin looked at you, his eyes clear. "I did not do anything unbecoming of a man. Allah as my witness, I did not touch you with ill intent."
Perhaps it was the way he said it, or perhaps you just wanted to keep your mind at peace but... you believed him.
"How's Isabella now?" You let him change the dressings on your arms, watching him like a hawk as he moved quickly and carefully, no unnecessary touches or lingering that would make you uncomfortable. Even when he treated the the burns on the back of your legs, he worked fast, applying some balm on the red areas. The balm was like a cool gel against your irritated skin.
"She's better now. Just needed some rest." He replied as he finished wrapping the bandage on your legs. "Your back." Salauddin softly asked. You hesitated.
He sighed. "Y/n... I need to apply the balm or your skin will scar." You slowly turned around, holding your breath as you removed the robe from your back partially.
If he wanted to, he could've done anything when you were unconcious. You calmed yourself.
Again, Salauddin's hand worked fast, applying the balm quickly and placing some gauze over the marks. He pulled your robe over your back again, letting you turn around with a flushed face.
"My... my face?" You asked cautiously. You did not know if damage had been done there as well.
Salauddin understood you. "Fortunately, your face was save from the flames." He stood up and went over to the wardrobe to grab you a white chadar, handing it to you so that you cover your head with it. "Maybe when you were ducking over Jibrael, your arms covered both you and him from the fire."
"Jibrael...?" You asked. He smiled assuringly. "He's fine. You saved him... again." You sigh in relief. At least this wasnt all for naught.
Salauddin sits back down in the chair and though you've covered your hair with the shawl, he keeps his eyes trailed down on his hands in his lap. "I must ask you of one thing." You peeked at him before keeping your eyes focused on your lap as well.
"Will you... tell Baldwin about this incident?" Why would you when it would only cause Baldwin to panic and prevent you from leaving the castle, or his sight at all? You still need to come here to get parts for your time machine and even if the machine was working, you need to be able to use it without Baldwin or his army of knights breathing down your neck.
"No. It will only cause misunderstandings between you and him and I need to punish the real culprit for it."
He frowned but didn't raise his gaze. "And who might that be?"
"Those men... they were assassins, right?" He hummed. "Judging by how vicious they were, I think they were Ismailis."
Ismailis were a sect of Shia Muslims. Basically, like the great schism of Christianity into Orthodox and Catholic Church, Islam also had a schism that divided it into Sunni and Shia Islam. Shia Islam further had divided into different sects, of which one was Ismailis.
Sunni and Shia Muslims have been at war with each other since the beginning over religious differences. And considering Salauddin was not only Sunni Muslim but also targeted many Ismaili assassins so that they would not oppose his rule, it would be an understatement that they wanted Salauddin dead.
But... you know Salauddin had already gotten rid of most of the assassins and established his dominance over them. You're sure he's already had a peace treaty with them.
"Salauddin, you have an agreement with the Ismailis, don't you?" You watched his eyes widen slightly. "You're on peaceful terms with them at the moment?"
"How did you know?" Of course, the great Sultan Salauddin, an orthodox Sunni, wouldn't want the world to know that he spared the Ismailis. No, that would stir rumours that Salauddin has empathy for Ismailis, for the Shias, and which would lead to the rumours of hum being a Shiite Muslim.
You waved him off. "I know your character. I know of your mercy. Besides, I know both you and the Ismailis have a bigger common enemy- the Christians. Its more than likely that the Ismailis are supporting you so that you defeat Baldwin and claim Jerusalem, then they can focus on you. Plus, if the Ismailis wanted to kill you, why wait until now? They know you've been camping outside Jerusalem for months now." Salauddin was... impressed by your deduction skills to say the least. How are you connecting the dots so fast? Just who are you, Y/n?
You rubbed your chin. "So that means that someone not only hired the assassins but also wants us to think that the Ismailis were behind it all." Who could it be? Someone who wants to harm Salauddin but... they also wanted to harm you. It couldnt be the Roman Catholics or other Christians. No, they'd know better than to interfere with Baldwin, their Holy Emperor's war. Especially not with his wife-to-be in harms way. Who... who would know that you're with Salauddin and still attempt an assassination-
"Guy." You muttered, pinching the nose of your bridge. Of course, its fucking Guy, shit for brains Guy who cant sit still and wait his turn to play king.
"Guy? Why would he attack me when you're still here?" Salauddin's mind immeadiately gives an answer as soon as he asks out loud.
"Because I am here." You groan. "He's trying to eliminate us both, or at the very least- me, while I'm with you so that he can provoke Baldwin to go to war with you because you "killed" his future wife. He would tell Baldwin that it doesnt matter if they were Ismailis or not, we were all Muslims and this is just how Muslims are! He'd send Baldwin off to not only go to war with you but rather go to war with Muslims everywhere! And knowing Guy, he probably hopes that Baldwin dies in the process of his rampage. If you, me or Baldwin are all dead, or even one of us is, then Guy will only have to worry about dealing with one less person. His best bet was probably to get rid of me and you both, then have Baldwin go to war with all the Muslims who killed his fiancee. He's using all of us as pawns so that he gets to sneak on to the throne and be king!"
You heard Salauddin sigh. Perhaps he agreed with your theory. Perhaps he didnt. Whatever he may think, you know he will still conduct a thorough investigation of his own to find out who the real culprit is,
"Dont worry, I will deal with Guy. In fact, I'll let you have him to slaughter as you please." Of course, Salauddin will kill Guy. He has to pay for the blood of all his people.
Salauddin watched you get up from the bed and walk towards the vanity. "How long will these take to heal?" You asked, referring to your burns. "Usually take about a month, but the balm I used will significantly fade the marks." Good. You dont need Baldwin freaking out over them.
He stood up to take his leave. "I'll check on what information they've been able to gather from the assassin we caught. You-" He pointed towards the bed. "Rest. I mean it. These burns will only get worse in the heat outside, thats why I gave you the coolest room in the palace." He continued to glare at you until you finally sighed and sat on the bed. "I have to go see Isabelle-" You tried but he raised his hand. "No. You are to stay here, in your room. No one gets in, and no one gets out. I dont trust anyone to not try to kill you, not even in your own entourage- whatever is left of them. My men are stationed right outside. If you need anything, you tell them. But you are not to leave your chambers."
"I'll see you at dinner." He left and you saw the guards stationed outside your door.
The great thing about Egyptian palaces was that they had big windows to allow for ventilation. So you were already out of the window and climbing along the edge. You were about to jump when you heard someone call you.
"P-princess?!" Isabelle looked at you in horror. Apparently, you had climbed down near the balcony of her room. "Oh hey, Isabelle! How are you now?"
"I- I'm fine- princess, please get down from there!" She practically begged, fearing for your life. You climbed over her balcony and hugged her. "I'm so glad you're okay! Because I need you to do me a favour." You gave her a sweet smile while she looked at you in confusion. "See, I need to go out for a bit but Salauddin has told me to stay in and rest. So... I need you to cover for me again, just like last time."
"I- what- princess-"
"I wouldnt ask you if it wasnt of grave importance." You pleaded, finally making her give in. "Okay, I'll go to your room-" You stop her when she begins walking away.
"You cant just walk in there. There's guards stationed there and they wont let you in."
"Then how am I supposed to get in?"
You smiled at her. She didnt like that smile. It wasnt... well meaning.
"Well..." You looked at the balcony and she followed your gaze, almost immediately coming to tears.
"Princess please-"
"I am right here. I will help you, I promise Isabelle! I wont let you fall."
-
After helping a trembling Isabelle climb into your room, you had finally made your way to the madrassa. You had covered your face with your chadar and sneaking inside was no feat.
Abbas jumped out of his seat the moment you entered.
"Y/n! I thought you forgot all about me- wait what happened to your hands?" He referred to the bandages.
"I had an accident while conducting an experiment." "What experiment? Can I be a part of it? Please please please-"
"Abbas." You silenced him. "Business first. Did you make the tools I asked you to?" He quickly ran to his desk and pulled them out from the drawer. You examined them. They werent the best but you could make do with them. You nodded before asking for a paper so that you could draw the last few bits you needed.
"I need these by the end of this week." Abbas chuckled. "Oh I thought you were joking. How do you expect me to build- whatever this is! in a week? No way. I would need to get all the material and-"
"Abbas. I need it this week. I dont care how, but you have to do it."
He looked at you suspiciously. "Maybe if you could just tell me what it is that you're making-"
"No. I cant. And you will make me this by the end of the week, if not earlier because I have a very good reward waiting for you."
Abbas rolled his eyes. "I dont need your money-"
"I will let you ask me anything you want. Any question on any topic you'd like." You knew Abbas's thirst for knowledge.
You saw the twinkle in his eyes. "I will still take the money." "Of course, but I'll pay you after you make me this." He sighed and agreed.
"Wait- check this please?" He handed you his journal that had some math equations. You huffed, grabbing his pen and working on the mistakes. "I'm doing this just so that you do my work." You gave him some other math problems you did in grade 8 and handed it back to him.
You turned to leave before pausing.
"Abbas?" He hummed. "I think... we should set some security measures." You whispered.
"Whatever for?"
"Just in case someone came looking for me or my work. You know you're not supposed to tell anyone about this."
"I couldnt even if I wanted to." He tilted his head. "Why would someone come looking for you? Are you in trouble?"
You shake your head. "No. But you're aware of how other... scholars are eager to steal ideas." He nodded, being a victim of such crime.
"What do you have in mind?"
-
Salauddin was informed when you had returned to the palace. Of course he knew the moment you left. This was his Egypt. Not a bird flies without his knowledge here.
He sent out a spy after you, both to keep you safe and to follow you around. He couldnt help but let out a huff when he was told of your daring climb out of the window. Didnt he tell you to stay in bed?
"This girl..." He grumbles.
The spy told him that you went inside the madrassa. Why? What business could you possibly have there?
Perhaps you're creating a poison? To kill Baldwin? No, there would be easier ways to get poison. You did tell him and Baldwin that you were going to Egypt to find your family, but he has a hard time believing that.
Just what were you upto?
He'll find out soon enough. This is his kingdom, he finds out things. And he'll find out your secret too.
He knocked on your door before entering. You were sitting on your bed, your face now covered with a niqaab and your hair with his white chadar. His clothes. He felt something warm in his heart at the thought.
"How are you now?" He asked, his hands clasped behind his back.
"I'm fine. Just bored waiting here all day." You sighed exasperatedly.
Such a liar.
"I apologise for not being able to entertain you. I was busy with the assassin." You looked at him in anticipation. "He didn't reveal much but he did say that they were hired. I suppose that would bring us closer to your theory."
He watched your eyes narrow in thought. "It has to be Guy. He knew I was going to the desert to you first. He needed to get rid of me without anything to come back on him. Coward."
The door was knocked.
"I hope you dont mind- I had them bring dinner up here." Salauddin explained, letting the servants in. They set down a dastarkhawan in the balcony. A red table cloth was set on the ground, onto which many dishes were placed. You both sat down on cushions, the area was lit up with candles placed. You were busy admiring the view of the pyramids from your seat while Salauddin poured you some ginger kehwa.
"Here." You lifted your niqaab a bit to sip the hot tea, a sigh escaping your lips. Salauddin's lips quirked a bit but he, like you, kept his eyes focused on the pyramids.
You picked up the plate of dates from your side, knowing how fond he is of them. "Here." You mimicked his voice, making him smile as he grabbed a piece.
You both silently ate, admiring the view and enjoying each others presence.
Some time later, you were both done with dinner and just sat in silence. That is until Salauddin spoke.
"I'm sorry." You looked at him. "For letting you get hurt."
You exhaled, trailing your eyes back towards the night sky that was littered with gleaming stars.
"I know. But you shouldnt be, Salauddin. I'm not made of porcelain."
I know. I saw you jumping off the palace walls with the confidence of an assassin and the grace of a headless chicken.
"Still, you're under my care. I am responsible for you-"
"I free you of this burden." You're not a burden. "I am not that hurt and I am not scarred for life. If anything, all that incident made me question is just how far would man go?" Your eyes glazed over as you recalled the incident in the tent, where the assassin left you and the baby to burn to death. You could understand killing you, but a baby? He was willing to let a baby burn?
"It makes me believe just how barbaric people were to the Ahl al-Bayt (family of Prophet Muhammad PBUH). How easy it was for them to slaughter his lineage, how easy it was for them to keep water from them, how their hearts did not halt for a moment when they heard the cries of Ali Asghar- who they killed with an arrow in the neck." Your eyes glistened. "A baby. He was just a baby. How would've his father felt in that moment, holding his dead son in his arms, knowing he had to bring him home to his wife?" The battle of Karbala was one of the most heart wrenching tragedies of Islam and whats worse is that Prophet Muhammad knew of it years before it happened. He knew his own grandsons will face martyrdom years before it actually happened, when they were just little children in his arms.
"Man is cruel." Salauddin stated.
"But Allah made man. Why... would he allow man to be so cruel? Even animals are not this merciless." You wondered.
"Because man cannot see God." He says. "There are signs of His existence, signs for those who wish to be guided. Animals can see God. Angels can see God. Humans... Allah has made us with the ability to think, to choose. Man chooses to be cruel when he forgets that Allah is watching, that these things- the stones, the trees, everything around him? They're all living beings who will testify against man." He smiles. "But that is why the true believers also have a greater reward in the hereafter. What do you think of the reward, of what you'll get when you enter heaven? You dream of wealth, of food, of all luxuries. But there's a greater reward waiting for us. Do you know what that is?"
You gave a slight shake of your head.
"The true believers will see Allah. They will get to meet their Lord, their Creator, the One who saw them through it all, the One who knows their secrets and kept them hidden, the One continued to shower His blessings upon them even when they were not grateful." Those words... they comforted you. How peaceful it is to the heart to hear that your Creator waits for you. The One who has seen you shed tears and took care of you in this world will also take care of you in the next. And at the same time, this is such devastating news for the sinners too. Those who act selfishly, who forget who their Lord is, they will end up in hell and will never get the opportunity to see their Creator again, to ask of mercy from the most Merciful.
"Still..." You mumbled, wanting to find an excuse for such wickedness.
"It is not our place to ask why, Y/n. Allah does not owe us answers, explanations. He already has given us His book for guidance, his prophets for example. But know this- everything happens for a reason. Maybe the battle of Karbala was just to show us how quick man can turn on his own. Perhaps in the future, a time will come when people will kill many women and children, slaughter men so brutally while the entire world watches and yet... no one does anything. And then people will wonder- surely, man is not so evil. Surely, man wouldn't kill innocent children. Perhaps then they will remember history."
-
Salauddin woke up with a sigh. He had gone to sleep after he left your room last night, but he woke up from yet another dream he had of you. You. You. You. Since that night in the desert, he's been having constant dreams about you. Its either you dying at the hands of Baldwin or Guy, or its you asking him to help you. Tonight, he dreamt of you two celebrating Ramadan together, with you picking up the plate and offering him dates, however unlike dinner, you were sitting much closer to him in his dream, by his side. So close, he could see himself in your eyes.
Salauddin wasnt vain enough to admit it to himself- he had feelings for you. But what were they?
Lust? Not really, he's seen far prettier women than you. Beauty... is subjective and Salauddin is a firm believer in "beauty is in the eye of the beholder".
Admiration? No. He admires your intelligence and your wit but Salauddin also has those qualities.
Infatuation? Sure he does think about you often during the day but not enough to call it obsession.
No, its love. It has to be. His heart doesnt know what exactly it is about you that draws him in. His mind doesnt comprehend why he feels like you belong with him but his soul, every fibre of his being screams that you do.
Allah has created someone for someone. He created Eve for Adam, He creates a woman from the rib of the man.
Salauddin touches the side of his chest, just above his abdomen.
Perhaps you're his missing rib.
You were smart, you were daring, you were also stupid enough to put yourself in harms way but it was... endearing. More importantly, you were the only person who could bicker with him, stand your ground against him and get away with it too.
He sat down on a chair, looking out at the pyramids. Like the man he's named after (Prophet Yusuf/Joseph), Salauddin believes in dreams having meaning. Perhaps its a way for God to talk to you, to warn you or guide you.
And from all his dreams about you, he's come to interpret it that he must save you from Baldwin... and everyone else. And he can save you- he can save you without you having to go through the trouble to be plotting against Baldwin and endangering yourself by working with Guy.
He could marry you.
If you were to marry Salauddin, you would become the queen of Egypt and the wife of the strongest Muslim leader of the time. Not only that but the entire ummah, Muslims around the world will come together as one to fight against Baldwin, against anyone who dares to harm you. You would be safe, you would be secure by his side as his wife.
But the plan is easier said than done.
Baldwin wouldnt backdown so easily. He would wreak havoc and if he's as obsessed with you as Salauddin has seen him, then he wouldnt stop at nothing to get you back. Baldwin will have to be dead for you to be safe from him.
Besides Baldwin, you yourself also are a hurdle. You havent shown any interest in him (which is understandable because you're engaged) but he doubts you're interested in marrying anyone at all. You're not one to be affected his wealth or status, you dont go for materialistic things. He's sure if he were to ask your hand, you would laugh hysterically and then maybe try mocking him. And Salauddin does not want to force you to marry him. He wants you to want him.
There is a way he could convince you. All he has to do is make himself look better than any man, especially Baldwin because you do seem to have a soft spot for him despite trying to sabotage him.
A sinister idea comes to mind.
What if Baldwin breaks up with you?
If Baldwin, for any reason, decides not to marry you then not only will you be free from him but a war will be avoided.
All Salauddin has to do is give Baldwin a reason to break up with you. He could send some concubines to him, but he doubts Baldwin would use them. And even if he did, it isnt reason enough for him to call off things with you. No, the only way Baldwin would break up with you is... if you're unfaithful to him. You dont need to cheat, dont need to sleep with any man. No, you dont have to do anything at all. All he has to do is make sure you're in the right place at the right time and Baldwin's there too, just enough to create doubt in his mind. And the ball will roll from there. Baldwin will continue to second guess your loyalty to him until he's driven himself insane. Then he'd leave you without ever punishing you for a crime he thinks you committed but has no proof of. Thats when Salauddin will swoop in as your knight in shining armour and you'll see that all men but him are shit and you'll say yes to his proposal-
No.
He sighed, rubbing his temples. Despite it being a perfect plan, the safest plan- Salauddin cant bare to stain your character. He cannot spread a rumor about you being unfaithful. He cannot have anyone talk badly of you, even if it will end up with you in his arms. You're important to him. And if you ever figure out that Salauddin was the one behind it all, you'd never forgive him. You would never trust him.
The thought of you not trusting him, just like you dont trust him enough to tell him why you sneaked out of the palace, it hurts him. He doesnt know why but he wants you to trust him- trust him enough that you come to him with your problems and have faith that he will solve them for you. He will keep you safe. He will protect you.
He will have to find another way.
Salauddin offered the morning prayer before reciting the Quran, asking Allah for guidance for his problems and good health for you.
He walked out of his room and turned to the corridor where your room was, only to find you sneaking out of the room with Isabelle. You were still wearing his white chaddar, and it engulfed your small body like a blanket as you hurriedly walked down-
You tripped on the bottom of the long chaddar and fell face first.
"Princess!" Isabelle cried out as she helped you up, but you quickly dusted yourself off and continued talking her ear off as if nothing had happened, the tail of the chaddar trailing behind you as Isabelle walked beside you to keep up with what you were saying.
"Idiot..." He whispered to himself, though he was smiling. He called a servant and ordered him to bring the finest chaddars and niqaabs for you. He cant have you tripping all over the place because you wear his chaddar that was too big for you, despite how adorable you looked in it.
-
You knocked on his door.
"Salauddin, I was going to the market-"
"And you came to ask for permission? Okay, granted." He waved you off with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes. "Where do you get the audacity- nevermind. I came to ask if you'd lend me a few gold coins? I need to buy some things, souvenirs if you will." You had lost your coin purse in the desert and you need to pay Abbas.
He raised a brow. "What do you need? I can have it brought to you here."
You pursed your lips. Why is he being difficult? "I dont know what I need until I look. Just give me some money, I promise to pay you back as soon as I can."
He stood up, walking upto you but you neither backed away nor moved your eyes from him. "Its not about the money." He pulled out a pouch and dropped it in your hands. "I worry for your safety. Who knows how many others Guy has hired to kill you? I'm coming along."
"Aww, you're worried about me? That's so sweet-"
"I wouldnt want my image to tarnish because a guest died in my care." Your smile dropped as you grumbled something under your breath.
"Whatever. I still dont need you to tag along-"
"Good thing about being the sultan is that I dont need anyone's permission." He cut you off before walking past you. You stomped after him. "Salauddin, dont you have work-"
"You can either come with me or stay in your room for the rest of your stay here." He stated.
-
"What?" He heard you snicker beside him. Your eyes twinkled with amusement. "Oh, its just these rags suit you a lot." Salauddin and his guards had worn disguises to blend in with the commoners. He didnt want to draw attention to you two.
He rolled his eyes. "I have to blend in for your safety-" "I have never looked more in danger than I do right now. Look around and see people staring at a lady dressed so modestly is surrounded by brooding men wearing rags." You giggled as Salauddin looked around to see some people were indeed looking your way.
You stopped at a small stall that was selling some jewellery. You were looking at some rings, trying to choose something for Sibylla. The shopkeeper, an old man must've seen Salauddin standing over your shoulder looking around for any suspicious men.
"Son, why dont you help your wife pick something? Focus on her!" The shopkeeper said, catching you both off guard. You looked at Salauddin and laughed at his surprised face. Continuing to pull his leg, you stared up at him and batted your lashes. "Well, husband? What do you think would suit me?" You asked raising two different earrings to your face. One had a ruby in it, the other had sapphire.
He looked at you for a moment.
"Neither."
Your smile underneath your veil vanished, and you placed the earrings back on the table.
"The blue opal ones." He nodded his head as the shopkeeper handed him the tear drop gold earrings that had the precious stones fixed in it. He brought the earrings near your face, never touching it as his eyes assessed his pick.
"They bring out your eyes." He said before paying the old man and giving them to you, all while you were looking at him in awe.
"Wait! Why did you pay? I had the money." You two had begun walking again. "You mean the money I gave you?" You frowned. "I'm gonna pay you back." He smiled. "You dont need to. I have enough. As for the earrings... consider them a gift."
"Gift?"
He hummed, his chest puffed up. "Part of the hospitality of the sultan."
You glared at him before smiling. "Thanks." You two continued to walk around the market, Salauddin gave alms to the poor he encountered. You were standing at another stall, watching in fascination as the man ground up the black powder and mixed it with oils to make kohl. He filled it up in a beautiful vessel before asking if you'd like to try it.
"Oh, I dont know how to." Especially not without a mirror, which the man didnt have. But he was persistent to sell his product and when he looked at Salauddin's kohl lined eyes, he offered it to him.
"Would you apply it on your wife?" This time, Salauddin didnt react like he did the earlier when he was associated with you. He took the wooden stick dipped in the kohl and looked at you for permission.
You gave a nod. He walked upto you, gently cupping your veil covered face. You thanked God for the niqaab, or else he would've seen how violently you were blushing.
"Chin up." He whispered before tilting your chin up. Your eyes shifted as they stared into his brown ones. "Open wide." He ordered, even though your eyes were already saucer shaped from the close proximity.
He began tracing the soft edge of the stick along the waterline of your right eye. He seemed to have noticed that you were holding your breath. "Relax." He softly commanded, patting your cheek with his thumb. That broke you out of your trance as you narrowed your eyes at him.
"Dont tell me what to do." You grumbled. "Open wide." He ordered again bringing the stick up to your left eye for a second coat. You hated the way he commanded you, hated that he seemed to be having his fun with this.
"Dont order-"
"If you dont listen to me, I will marry you today." Your eyes blew wide open in shock.
"What-?!"
"Hush." He smiled placing kohl on your now wide eyes. "Whats wrong? You seemed to enjoy playing my wife but when I joke to marry you, you dont like it."
He's... joking?
Without realising, you blinked causing the still wet kohl to spread in your eyes. Salauddin had pulled the stick back just in time to not poke your eye out.
You hissed in pain, raising your hand to rub your eyes but Salauddin caught your wrist pushing it down.
"Open your eyes, Y/n. Look at me. I said- look at me." You opened your eyes to stare at him, your vision blurry from the mixture of tears and kohl.
Salauddin grabbed his handkerchief and began to dab the excess away as he tutted at you to stay still. Once he was done wiping the excess away, he blew cold air on your irritated eyes gently.
"I swear... if you dont sit still, I really will marry you today." He threatened you as he watched your red eyes glare at him. He didnt like that you were in pain, even if your own stupidity was the cause of it. This time when he applied kohl, you didnt dare to move an inch.
Fortunately, he worked faster this time around.
He gave a nod of approval when he was done. You dont know whether it was because he liked how your eyes looked now or if he was admiring his own work.
Salauddin handed the man money before taking a few bottles of kohl.
For the next hour, you two walked around in silence mostly. The image of your kohl lined eyes occupied his mind, not only because of how beautiful they were but also all the emotions that switched in a matter of seconds. You could try and hide your feelings all you want but your eyes tell. The eyes... they're the window to one's soul.
He saw attraction, anger, mesmerisation, disgust and pain in your eyes. Or maybe he's overthinking this. Maybe it was all just momentary and you really do hate the idea of being married to him.
You were both standing at yet another shop, this one was selling dates. Salauddin walked inside the shop a little more to inspect the quality of the dates, expecting you to be following behind him but when he turned around, you were gone. He walked outside the shop, hoping to find you there but it seemed like you had vanished. Even his guards hadnt seen you.
And then, as Salauddin whipped his head around, he saw the silloutte of your chadar disappearing around the corner. He ran after you, hoping to not lose you in the crowd but as soon as he turned around the corner, he couldnt spot you anywhere. He ran down the street, looking left and right but you werent there.
Where are you, Y/n?
He began walking back towards the main street when in the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of a familiar chadar. He turned his head to the right and there you were, standing with your back to him under the shadow of the large canopy of the shop talking to some man.
He walked up behind you, the man you were talking to seeing him first.
"Y/n." He snapped. You turned startled before your shoulders relaxed at the sight of him. "Oh, its just you. Did you buy the dates?"
Dates? You're asking him about dates after you just made his heart stop for a few minutes?
"Why did you leave me?" Ya Allah, that came out way more desperate than he wanted it to.
"I was getting something from this man." He raised a brow, almost as if he didnt believe you. You sighed. "This is Abbas. I hired him to make some things for me?"
"Such as?" You narrowed your eyes at his accusatory tone before nodding at Abbas, who then pulled out a heaxagonal shaped board that looked somewhat similar to a-
"Its 3 people chess!" You exclaimed, bouncing on your feet as you handed it to Salauddin. "I designed it and had Abbas make it for you!"
"For me?" He asked, turning the board around as he tried to understand how it would work.
"Yeah. I wanted to thank you for saving my life. And for your hospitality. And for lending me money."
His eyes softened slightly. "You dont need to thank me, Y/n. Its... my duty. I'm responsible for you." You waved him off. "Yeah yeah. Look, just take this and I'll teach you how to play so that one day you could play it with your wife and... kid? Or maybe with your wife and Baldwin? Or two wives-?"
"Y/n, I appreciate the gift but I would appreciate your silence more now." You pouted at his words but never the less, you both left to return to the palace, unaware of the eyes watching you two.
The mysterious figure wrote down what he'd seen before using messenger eagle to deliver the note to Jerusalem.
-
It had almost been a week in Egypt. You and Salauddin were having lunch together when a guard came to him and whispered something in his ear, the sultan frowning.
"Whats wrong?" You asked him.
He looked at you. "Baldwin... he's coming to Egypt."
"What? When?"
"He's crossed the desert. He should be getting here today, in a few hours." Salauddin was still frowning. Why is Baldwin coming to Egypt?
You shook your head. "Baldwin wouldnt ever leave Jerusalem, not unless..." Your eyes widened at the realisation.
"He's coming for a war." Salauddin confirmed.
Fuck.
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330 notes · View notes
ghoulphile · 2 days
Text
no use cryin' over spilled milk | c.h./the ghoul
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➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 2.8 k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, frottage, lactation kink, pregnant!reader, fingerfucking, praise kink, breast play, the ghoul calls reader pretty mama, he's a pervert who wants to lend a 'helping' hand ➥ summary | based off this ask; oops being an experiment from vault 4 where you may be the first rad resistant human pregnant with a possibly rad resistant baby, and you come across the ghoul who helps you get to a safe place but then he gets attached with you and the baby 🥺 (this is just me trying to insert a lactation kink somewhere i'm sorry) ➥ notes | uhhhh pls let me know if i missed anything, my brain is dribbling out my ears (its 3:44 am and i have work at 8 am rip) but the parasites persist. i'll do the tag list when i wake up ❤️ masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️
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Going topside wasn’t an easy decision.
In fact, bile bitter regret often lingers in the back of your throat - a lump that stifled the air in your lungs.
And while you might’ve been bioengineered to survive better under these harsh wasteland conditions, every time you find yourself in a less than ideal situation, you're catapulted headlong into paralyzing self doubt; alone and rudderless.
No one lives in the vaults - not truly.
Birdie (and the others) warned you of what awaited beyond those lead-lined walls. But you couldn’t abide spending the rest of your life trapped in a cage, albeit a gilded one.
Not anymore.
Oh no, you wanted to feel a real breeze instead of air pumped through the HVAC. Experience the sun baking warm into your skin like fresh bread instead of the artificial heat of the UV lamp used for mandatory light therapy sessions. Complain about the chafe of sand in your shoes and hear the crunch of dirt under foot instead of a hollow clunk of sterile metal.
To witness first hand all the sights, sounds, and smells this world offers. 
Only… you didn’t expect it to be this hard.
Nor did you expect to be pregnant when setting off into the great unknown on your own (a definite oversight on your part [you really shouldn’t have had one last hurrah before hitting the road]).
Through trial and error, motion sicknesses that swing into crippling nausea as manic energy - your first taste of true freedom! - dwindled into dragging fatigue, you found a happy medium. None of which would have been possible had it not been for the most unlikely of companions.
Ghouls; who knew, huh?
Sure, you’d heard of them from the rotating door of visitors that found themselves at Vault 4, but you’d never seen them. While you grew up surrounded by visible mutations, seeing the battlefield of his body was off putting; how a person could survive a patina of burns and patchwork slices without unraveling at the seams was beyond you.
And kind of frightening.
But he took it in stride, introducing himself as Ghoul. Refused to divulge anything else of substance no matter how much you poked and prodded.  His life pre-bomb was a complete mystery filled with plot holes and unanswered questions (which is exactly what he preferred).
You learned to be comfortable with his meandering conversations, and all the words he spoke that said much of nothing. And what you did glean, you did so through observation alone. 
He was alone - had been for a very long time.
He was very old - one of the last of his kind.
And he was, in his own way, very kind - at least by wasteland standards.
“The fuck you doin’?”
Pausing, you stop mid push and hover awkwardly on your hands and knees. The vault suit pulls taut across your hips, pinching behind your knees uncomfortably. Your toes squeak in your shoes, socks thoroughly soaked through with sweat.
It’s been unseasonably hot (or it’s the hormones). Whatever the case, this is the first semi-decent lodging you’ve camped in for weeks, and you’re not about to miss an opportunity to freshen up.
And maybe find a way to soothe the building ache in your tits - flesh swollen tender and nipples rubbed raw.
“I’m just, uh, gonna,” you motion towards the back of the house, the askew bathroom door clinging to its hinges by a corner, “y’know, f-freshen up. See if they don’t still have some water.”
The Ghoul scans you up and down, gimlet-eyed. “S’that so?”
You huff, your knees starting to ache.
Being five months pregnant throws your center of gravity for a loop, the atmosphere weighing extra heavy on your bones. It doesn’t help that the baby’s decided sitting directly on your bladder with a foot tucked under your ribs is the best position.
“Didn’t know I needed permission to take a piss now,” you snipe. Usually, you try to reign in the hormones but the day’s been too long and you’re in pain. Anyone would be a little snippy (right?). “Can I do that on my own or do you need to watch, Mr. Ghoul?”
A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, his gaze glinting from beneath the rim of his hat as he tips his head. “Better watch it, sweetheart,” he says. “Otherwise, I might have’ta wash your mouth out with soap.”
Pushing yourself up with a grunt, you determinedly ignore the raspy chuckle that follows as you waddle towards the bathroom. Cussing him out all the while in your mind.
While he’s been ‘nicer’ today - stopping for extra breaks, even packing it in several hours earlier than usual because he noticed how weary you looked - he’s still an asshole.
The toilet’s gone, the tub’s tipped sideways, the linoleum’s cracked, and closing the door sounds like a pack of howling mole rats but its functional. When you catch your reflection in the spider web fractures of the mirror, you grimace.
The wastes have certainly left their mark on you. Gone is the prim-and-proper vault dweller, replaced by a gremlin of a woman Overseer Benjamin would surely scowl at.
A true ‘surfie’ now.
“Great,” you groan, scrubbing a palm over your face. “Just - ugh!”
You’re caked in grime, a steak of dirt smeared across the bridge of your nose. Mysterious stains darken the blue fabric, the golden stripes of your suit an off-putting grey.
Your hair clumps in greasy chunks. You’re glossy with sweat, and while your curves have plumped up over the last few months, you didn’t realize just how much until now.
The vault suit’s always been tight - now it clings and creases in unflattering places. And there’s nothing you can do about it, unless the Ghoul is willing to spare a sewing kit.
You could let the waist out some…
What the hell am I gonna do if he won’t? There’s no way I’ll fit if this baby gets any bigger. Shit, I look like a fucking sausage. Your hand cradles the side of your stomach, stroking over the bump with a frown. This is all your fault, you little parasite.
“You better be so fucking cute - the cutest goddamn baby in the wasteland. Or I will riot.”
Tugging down the zipper over your breasts is heaven, the swollen flesh spilling out of the parting fabric, no longer compressed. It’s almost enough to make you cry as you struggle to tug the lycra off your shoulders, the fabric putting up a fight.
After some awkward contortions that pull uncomfortably at the muscles of your shoulder blades, you manage to wrangle yourself free.
The temptation to burn the stupid goddamn suit is almost too much to resist, but then you’d really be traipsing around the wasteland in the nude and just… no.
Peeling off your undershirt is another story altogether, the soft cotton feeling like sandpaper as it scrapes over sensitive skin. Your nerves tingle with awareness, bolts of pain shooting through your nipples with every shift.
Quick like a bandaid, you think, taking a steadying inhale.
It’s a miracle you don’t scream.
Tears cling to your lashes, your nose running as you toss the shirt to the side with one hand and cradle your chest with the other. Sure, you’ve had tenderness with your period but this kind of pain? A whole new level.
You almost don’t know what to do with yourself.
How is this fair - aren’t you suffering enough?
Sniffling, you peer down at your tits and gingerly cup them with your palms. Swollen hard and warm to the touch; a heavy weight crushing your ribs.
Do I really have to milk myself like a fucking brahmin? Another bolt of lightning crackles through your nerve endings as if in response. Fine. God, this is embarrassing.
Only any attempt at touching your nipples produces pure agony, shards of glass biting into delicate skin.
No matter how slight your touch, no matter how gentle your fingers - it doesn’t work. Leaves you more distraught and in pain than when you began as inflamed nerve endings crackle and burn.
And when the tears truly start, the dam breaks. It’s not long before they drip down your cheeks in fat rivulets, your breath hitching from you in pathetic little exhales.
Your fist shoves against your mouth in an attempt to smother the sounds, teeth sinking into your knuckle until you leave sore indents.
But you should know better, not only does the Ghoul have heightened senses (he’s taunted you constantly with this fact like the asshole he is), but he’s uncannily perceptive in a very annoying way.
You don’t hear the squeal of the door, but you do sense his presence behind you; the rad warm burn of his body as he stops a scant few inches away. You feel his breath against the nape of your neck, the barest brush of his chest as he inhales.
“You ready ta stop bein’ stubborn?” he hums. “I thought I told you not ta wait s’long.”
Your voice warbles from you, “G’way.” You curl into yourself, shoulders hunching as you hang your head. “Don’t need your help.”
The Ghoul snorts. “Cuz you doin’ so well on your own, huh?”
“I resent that.” You shoot him a weak glare, the animosity ruined by the crumble of your lips. “I really, really do.”
You hate always having to rely on him, so desperate to prove that you can take care of yourself only to have every effort to do so thrown back in your face.
Shit, you hate how right Birdie was, “Honey, you won’t last five minutes on your own. Please stay here with us where it’s safe.”
“Well, maybe so. But pickers can’t be choosers, sweetheart,” he shrugs with a languid roll of the shoulders. “Ain’t no use cryin’ over spilled milk. C’mon, the longer you wait, the worse it’s gon be.”
“I just - you don’t understand…”
He reaches around you to set his hat on the sink, the dwindling light of twilight creeping in through the holes in the roof to bathe him in its bloody light.
He looks like a grotesque demon that clawed its way from the depths of hell. It gets your pulse thudding, electric awareness an unwelcome visitor as it roosts behind your navel.
“I understand plenty. Now, let me.”
Not an offer - not really.
More akin to a demand, one wrapped up pretty like a gift. You’ve been here many times before, and while the Ghoul proffers his help under the guise of not wanting to hear your bitching and moaning, the hungry gleam of his eyes as they rake over your face say otherwise.
If it’s one thing you’ve learned in your travels with him, it’s this: he is entirely self-serving. He offers because he wants to suck on a set of pretty tits. If you happen to cream your panties while he does, well, he counts it as a win-win.
Quid pro quo.
And what you hate more than how utterly correct everyone is about life on the surface, is how needy he makes you. How desperate and dumb and dripping he’s got you by the end, drunk off the flick of his tongue and the rasp of his touch.
Because it’s so hard to be strong in the face of pain when the solution is right there; open-palmed.
“...Fine, just don’t - don’t leave marks this time, okay?”
A slow waking smile creaks across his face, and he says, “I ain’t makin’ any promises, sweetheart.”
Your stomach swoops, and your thighs clench.
Shit.
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Scarred lips work over tender flesh as a talented tongue flicks and swirls over the bumps of your areola, the tip digging into your nipple and drawing the swollen nub into a hot mouth. You whimper, arms tossed over the Ghoul’s broad shoulders.
Cold ceramic digs into the base of your spine, your body crowded back against the sink as he plasters himself to your front. Cuts off any escape routes and refuses to let you squirm away from the overwhelming sensations as he suckles.
Heavy palms grope at the plush curves of your hips, fingertips digging into the fat.
His lips pop off your nipple with a sticky smack. “Always taste s’fucking good,” he groans against your sternum. “Got the prettiest set a tits in the wasteland.”
“Hnn! N-Not so hard.”
While you say that, you don’t mean it - not really. Your pussy throbs in time with your heartbeat, clit swollen and aching for friction. Your inner thighs are a mess of slick, your vault suit caught around your knees.
He never touches you below the waist directly (some boundaries still exist between you two), but at this point in your pregnancy, you’re so sensitive a gentle breeze could set you off.
“Heh, ain’t you know lyin’s a sin?” he says.
A scarred cheek drags over the swell of your breast, the rasp of rad burn alighting your nerves. Bolts of desire ricochet down your spine, fizzle like Nuka Cola on your tongue. He presses an open mouth kiss to your nipple, his tongue flicking out to massage the tender bud.
At the taste of your skin, his cock twitches where its grinding against your thigh. You feel him through his ragged pinstripe slacks, his shaft a thick line of heat.
It’s probably the hormones (you refuse to admit its anything else) but just the thought of touching him, of sinking down onto his erection - feeling how fucking good he’d stretch you out and fill you up - makes you dizzy.
You pant, your voice distinctly whiny when you say, “Please, d-do something. It still hurts.”
His grin reminds you of the mongrels roaming the wastelands. “Sh,” he hushes you. “I got you, sweetheart.”
The tips of his fingers brush along the side of your swollen stomach. Your heart flips in your chest, your breath catching as he follows the contours of your body, reaching down to brush over the skin of your mound. This is new, he’s never done this before. It’s simultaneously as arousing as it is terrifying.
“Can smell how wet you are for me,” he says, tone low and gruff. “You gonna be a good girl for me, ain’t you?”
“I-”
Then his mouth is slurping at your tit, his teeth biting down on your nipple gently as those strong fingers dip between your thighs. Blunt nails scratch through your pubic hair, a calloused pad swirling circles around your slippery clit. Your hips jump, your head rolling back between your shoulders as a loud moan rips itself from your throat.
You arch back so far your belly presses against the Ghoul’s, your tits smothering his face.
You think, half deliriously, it’s a good thing he doesn’t have a nose otherwise you might’ve broken it.
“Shit, that’s so - oh, fuck, please, please, please!’
Your legs widen to make room for his hand as yours fly up to grab his biceps, nails biting into the rough leather of his duster.
His tongue flutters across your areola. “C’mon, pretty mama, give it ta me.”
“Oh.” Sparks dance behind your eyes, your knees shaking as the Ghoul strokes over your folds, tests your wetness and the give of your cunt as he plays with your entrance. “Right there,” you gasp. “I’m gonna…”
He grunts, tugging on your nipple with his teeth.
The sharp bite of pain shoots through you, deepens the kindling warmth behind your navel that steadily builds and builds and builds. You feel on the very edge, nerves plucked like the keys of a piano.
So close you can taste it.
Then a tingling starts in the tips of your fingers.
Burns its way up your arms to settle in the weight of your chest, pins and needles pricking across the skin of your tits, lancing through the swollen buds of your nipples.
You tremble, the relief bringing tears to your eyes as tears the heaviness releases in a warm flood, your milk letting down to flow into the Ghoul’s eagerly pulling mouth.
“Fuckin’ finally,” he moans, chasing after the taste by nuzzling into your chest. His cock ruts against you. “Took you’re sweet damn time, didn’t you, darlin’?”
Your head spins, hazy thoughts scattering like confetti.
Endorphins simmer through your veins as you float on a cloud of cotton softness. Reality seems worlds away, your vision blurry as you focus on the points of contact between your bodies. The stretch of his fingers plunging into your pussy to stroke over the front wall.
Mouth slack, your hands creep up the Ghoul’s arms to trace over the sides of his neck, watch the dance of your fingers over his skin. “It feels s’good,” you slur. “Please don’t stop - wanna cum just like this.”
“Heh, wouldn’t dream of it.”
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wososcripts · 2 days
Text
Face to Face (Part II)
Fridolina Rolfö x reader
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Summary: you begin to recover with the help of several of your teammates... except a certain blonde.
A/N: another part! the entire fic is now written so hopefully I'll update more quickly :) also don't forget to read part one. as usual this is all fictional and in good fun!
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings ⚠️: angst and lots of it, medical description
"What the hell was that!" Zećira said, turning on her teammate once you were off the field. "You could've seriously hurt her with that messy shit!"
Zećira raised a hand to shove her teammate away, rage bubbling in her gut. You two had always been close at Chelsea when you played there, and you were in almost daily contact since you left. She was protective over you, you were her junior only by a year but you always came across so kind—it was difficult not to want to shield that from the tough world.
Magda stepped in, forcing Zećira away. But her stern eye was more for Rolfö, the one who had fouled you.
"That was dangerous, Frido. Really." Were all the words Magda had to share. But her eyes spoke volumes.
She too had played with you at Chelsea, and knew you to be a sweet, caring, hard working person. To see you hurt was tough to stomach. Especially when it was her national teammate, and your clubmate, responsible.
"Why did you hit her so hard? It's a friendly. She's your clubmate. Now she'll be out of Barcelona's line up for at least a few games."
That meant having to answer to Jona, and Alexia, both of whom would surely not be holding her in their good graces right now. Rolfö didn't even want to think of the state of her phone.
"I didn't mean to…I'm sorry." Rolfö mumbled, not sure what to say. Even she was shocked by her actions, and what had followed. The reality of it was beginning to sink in, how hard you'd gone down, the fact that you had to be practically carried off of the field, that you had some kind of concussion all because of her. What the hell had she been thinking?
Clearly, she hadn't.
Zećira scoffed at her apology and wandered off back to the box, leaving Magda to deal with a now glossy eyed Frido.
"Hey!" Another voice called.
It was Alexandra Popp, who was walking over with a stern look on her face. She made eye contact with Magda and nodded, making it clear there were going to be no fights between them. Popp was good at keeping her head.
She seemed to have none of the grace for Rolfö, though, who she turned to next. Instead she gave the Swedish player a harsh look, her mouth set in a straight line.
"I hope you know you're lucky to not have been carded for that. That was completely unnecessary, and you've hurt a great person because you couldn't clean your game up. So stay the hell away from my players, okay?"
Popp didn't give her the chance to reply, turning around and stalking back to the bench to talk with the coach about who would be subbed in for you.
-
"It hurts," you whimpered to Laura. She had raced to the med bay the second the match was over. Germany had won, but it hardly mattered. Your head was killing you, tears streaming from your eyes. Even with the dim lights the pain was intense. Every noise, every movement, hurt. They were taking you to get scans as soon as the ambulance arrived.
Laura rubbed your skin soothingly, terrified by how much pain you seemed to be in. The doctors had told her they couldn't give you any medication until they got to the hospital and found out how bad it was.
She spotted Popp and Sara at the door, then Zećira as well. She shook her head.
"I'm going to go tell Sara and Zećira how you're doing, okay?" She whispered as softly as she could, and you gave her a thumbs up.
Laura slipped outside, keeping her eye on you through the door's window.
"How bad is it?" Zećira asked first.
"They don't know. We're waiting for the ambulance to take her for scans."
Popp rubbed her temples, clearly distressed.
"Have they given her anything for the pain?"
Sara peeked in and saw you curled into a ball on the medical bed.
"Not yet, not until we get the scans—listen I've got to get back in there…"
The girls nodded and Laura opened the door, assuring them she would pass on their well wishes.
-
Still in the locker room, Frido opened her phone and saw that indeed, a few of her Barça teammates had clearly been watching the game. Firstly there was a link to what must've been a video of the tackle from Mapí followed by a series of question marks; then a long message from Ingrid saying that she didn't know what was going on with her, or with the thing you two had (or didn't have), but that she was there if Frido needed to talk; and finally two missed calls from Alexia, who would much rather scold her over the phone.
She couldn't call back now, not outside the quiet of her room where nobody was likely to interrupt. She knew the voice Alexia would use—she'd never been on the receiving end of it and never wanted to be. Once Alexia scolded her, Frido knew the reality of the situation would settle on her.
So she clicked on the link that Mapí had sent instead, curious how bad the incident looked from the camera's point of view. She hardly remembered it, it was a split second, resentment-fueled decision mixed with a tactical one—when you were anywhere near the goal like that the chances of you scoring were high. Then there was your surprised yelp, and the feeling of skin hitting skin, and Frido had popped back up.
The video started from a wide angle, in which you were barely visible in the corner. But she saw you get around a defender, then start dribbling down the pitch. And she saw her own approach, the way she cut across the field, racing. Magda was there too, behind her. She saw Zećira eye you, prepping for your shot. And then—slam. It looked like it hurt even on video. She'd slid her foot under your left leg, causing you to lose balance as her body collided with yours. Frido took the ball and passed it to Amanda, running off in the opposite direction as you went down.
The video switched to a closer angle of the collision where she could see how you fell first on your hip, then your shoulder, then she saw your head bounce harshly off the ground. There was no audio, but the way your head bounced from the pitch made Frido a little nauseous. The camera remained on you as you laid there, not moving. The game continued as you lay there, still. Eventually someone kicked the ball out of play, Freigang probably. One of your closest friends on your national team. Suddenly Zećira appeared by your side, asking if you were okay. Your eyes were scrunched up, and she could see you trying to breathe through the nausea. Zećira lightly cradled your head with her gloves, the contrast almost comical. You gave a weak thumbs up, not moving otherwise.
The announcer, who had been keeping an eye on the ball until now, shifted his attention to you. And with a pretty harsh tackle there from Rolfö, she seems to be hurt… yep there are the medics. We're hearing maybe a head injury, that's never good. And as a Barcelona starter that means she'll likely be out of the lineup for a few weeks depending on how bad this is. A shame, really. Should that have been a yellow? Clearly Freigang thinks so…
Frido closed the video, feeling sick. She hadn't realized how long you'd been out. The panic in Zećira's eyes was clear in that video, and Frido felt some of it reverberate in her chest even now. The medics were always extra concerned when someone passed out cold. That meant serious impact.
She didn't answer Mapí's text, or Ingrid’s. Mostly she wanted to see if you were okay—but she didn't have any idea where you were. In the medic room? The hospital? And who could she ask?
"Hey,"
Unexpectedly, Pernille sat down next to her. She must be there for Magda, Frido figured, but she hadn't seen her earlier in the stands.
"Hi, Pernille. Where's Magda?"
"I'm not sure. A few of them went down to the med bay… she might be there."
Pernille stayed silent for a beat, studying Frido.
"Is there a reason you aren't down there?"
"I'm probably the last person she wants to see right now."
Pernille grabbed Frido’s hand, squeezing it. Before she could offer words of advice however, Magda walked in.
"Hi, love," she leaned down to give Pernille a kiss.
"Frido." She said curtly.
Pernille looked to her girlfriend, then back at Frido.
"Come on Magda, it was an accident."
Magda crossed her arms, still upset.
"I'm sorry." Frido mumbled.
"You need to direct that apology somewhere else."
The three of them stood quietly, Frido refusing to look up from her shoes. Pernille squeezed Madga's hand giving her a look.
Magda let out a sigh, putting a hand on Frido’s shoulder. She pulled the blonde woman up and into a firm hug, not wanting her sternness to hurt Frido.
"Go get cleaned up. The bus leaves in half an hour."
-
Frido waited until she was back in her hotel room to call Alexia. Stina, her typical roommate, was out for dinner with a friend. Frido knew she would rather be staying in and relaxing after the strenuous travel and match they had had today, but Stina was considerate enough to give her privacy.
Clicking on Alexia’s contact, noting the two missed calls from earlier, was the most nerve wracking thing she had done all day.
"Hi," Frido mumbled into the phone as Alexia picked up.
Part of her was hoping to get a voice-mail, but to no avail.
"Hi."
The silence stretched.
"How are things?"
Frido nearly laughed.
"Pretty shit, I'd say."
Another pause of silence.
"Did you go and check on her?"
"No. No, I haven't. Freigang and Popp are up there with her now. I'm…" Frido cleared her throat. "I think she needs her rest, mostly."
Alexia stayed quiet on the other edit of the line.
"What do you want me to say, Alexia?"
"I don't need you to say anything to me, but I'm sure there's apologies you owe someone else."
Frido didn't reply. She couldn't admit how much she had hurt you. Not now.
"You already know it was messy, and unnecessary. I saw Zećira yelling at you on the field—and to be clear if that had been in a game I was playing in, I'd have done the same. I just don't understand it. I guess I want you to explain it to me. That's what I want from you."
"I made a bad decision. In a split second. That's it."
"You aren't that aggressive when you play. You don't throw tackles in like that, you're tactical. That was not tactical—you could've easily gotten a yellow."
"Alexia, don't you think I already know I could've been carded?"
"And yet you still tackled her." Alexia sighed. "Jona will want to talk to you too, once you're back. We all love you, Frido, and we care about you. Whatever is going on, you can talk to someone about it."
"Thanks… but I'm fine, really."
"All right, then I'll let you go." Frido moved to hang up before she heard the Spanish woman's voice again, "and be prepared to face Patri when you get back, you know how protective she gets."
Frido sighed. She knew Alexia was joking with her a bit, trying to lighten the mood at the end of the call, but it was true. She knew everyone on the team would hold just a bit of anger for her and that made her stomach churn.
“Sí, Alexia.”
Once the phone had been hung up the room felt stiflingly quiet. Now she wanted Stina, or someone, to fill the space. Usually Frido wasn’t one who needed other people’s company to feel secure, but right now she craved it.
-
“The initial scans are clear. That means no bleeding,” Laura said into her phone. She was speaking as slowly and clearly as she could. “She’s asleep right now, they’ve got her on pain medication… No, I don’t know when she’ll wake up. Okay, yes I’ll stay here with her until you arrive, Alexia, of course.”
Laura rubbed her forehead, letting out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She slumped into her chair and looked at you, suddenly unable to keep the tears from streaming down her face. It had been such a terrible day, seeing you in that amount of pain. Fielding calls from your mother (who was coming to visit in the morning), the other German teammates, and the Barcelona girls was exhausting. She had barely had any time to process things herself.
She just wanted you to be okay, no matter what. And she wasn’t sure she would ever forgive Fridolina for this. It was a bad habit, grudge holding, but this felt warranted.
The sound of your breathing was accompanied by the beeping of the machines you were hooked up to. A nurse was supposed to come in every two hours and wake you up and ask you a few questions: your name, what happened, things like that. Apparently it was so they could tell if there was brain damage. The thought terrified Laura.
She had been there when you got a concussion on the U16 team. It wasn’t as bad as this, at least in her memory, but your parents had been the ones dealing with it so she wasn’t completely sure. You had been out for a few weeks, and she remembered that the doctors had told you to be careful of that spot in the future. Multiple concussions compounded on each other, apparently.
“Hey,” a soft voice called from the doorway. It was Zećira. She had her hair down around her shoulders and was dressed in a hoodie and some sweatpants. “I brought some stuff for you, I figured you probably hadn’t had a moment’s rest all day.”
Laura stood, shocked by the kindness of someone she barely knew. Zećira had always been polite when they met on the field, and she was a damn good goalie, but Laura was pretty sure they had never even had a conversation.
“Don’t worry, it’s not Swedish gear. Popp gave me some of your clothes, so they should fit.”
It was only then that Laura realized she was still in her kit from earlier. The dried sweat on her skin started to itch as she became aware of her unclean state. She must smell awful too.
“You can shower in the bathroom, I’m sure nobody will care. I’ll watch over her while you do.”
Laura nodded, taking the clothes from Zećira and slipping away. She muttered a soft thank you on her way, looking back at your sleeping form once more.
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thevoidstaredback · 23 hours
Text
How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have
A knock on the door was not what Danny was expecting that evening. In the two weeks of observation and one week of actually staying with the man, Danny had figured that Dick, for as friendly as he is, did not have many friends. And if he did, they didn't visit him a lot, if at all. So, a knock on the door exactly thirty minutes before Nightwing was set to go out was a suspicious surprise.
He answered it anyway.
On the other side of the door was a kid about his age, an inch or two taller. He had dark hair, pale skin, bright blue eyes, and eyebags dark enough to rival Danny's own. He also smelled faintly of coffee.
"Um," Danny started dumbly. "Hello?"
"I'm looking for Richard Grayson." The kid's accent was stronger than Dick's, putting him as a born and raised Gotham resident. There was also a hint of something that reminded Danny of Sam's parents. This kid comes from money.
"And you are?"
Obviously upset about being stalled, he huffed, "Timothy Drake. Are you going to let me in now?"
How does someone sound so rude and so polite at the same time? Obviously a skill Danny needs to learn. "Why-"
"Who's at the door, Danny?" Dick called from the hallway, making his way closer. He was in his Nightwing costume, minus the mask, but had covered it with a hoodie and sweatpants.
"Tim Drake," Tim introduced himself again, pushing Danny out of the way and entering the apartment to greet Dick with a handshake. "You're Bruce's Wayne's kid, Richard 'Dick' Grayson."
"Yeah, that's-"
"You need to come back and be Robin again."
There was a moment of silence as Danny closed the door softly. Then, "Excuse me?" Dick's smile was strained and his eyes narrowed slightly.
"You need to come back and be Batman's Robin again. You don't have to don the suit, but he needs you." There was a hint of desperation in Tim's voice now. "He's been spiraling since Jason died, and he's starting to hit harder. Most of the guys he beats up end up in the emergency room! Some of them have even died from their injuries! Batman needs your help! He needs a Robin."
Dick was quiet for a moment. "No."
"What?"
"I won't- I can't go back to being Robin. I can't go back to being in that house."
"Why not?"
"I just can't. Now, I don't know how you found me or how you found out who I was, but you need to go back to Gotham, Tim."
"But-"
"Now, Tim. You're parent's are probably freaking out about where you are right now."
Tim didn't say anything for a long moment, he feet rooted in place. Just as Dick turned around to go to the fire escape, he spoke, "My parents don't care where I am." Louder, he said, "Bruce is going to start directly killing people if you don't go back there and help him."
"Why should I help him?" Dick demanded. "He didn't even tell me that my little brother had died! I didn't even get to go to his funeral! And then Bruce had the audacity to punch me in the face and blame me for not being there! I'm not going back to Gotham, I'm not putting on the Robin suit again, and I sure as hell am not going to help Batman. he made it clear that he works alone, so let him." With his peace said, Dick took his hoodie and sweatpants off, donned his domino and escrima sticks, and left through the window fifteen minutes early.
Neither Tim nor Danny said anything for a long few minutes, neither bothering to move. Too many thoughts in each of their heads with no way to properly form words.
Finally, after nearly seven minutes, Danny's voice broke through the air. "I'm sorry he yelled at you."
Tim, having forgotten Danny was there, jumped and turned to face him. "What?"
"He hasn't been the same since Jason died, not that I know what he was like before."
"What do you mean?"
Danny moved into the kitchen, pulling down two cups, filling them with water before offering one to Tim and leading him to sit down on the couch.
"I don't know a lot about the situation, I've only been here for three weeks now, but I know that Dick is still hurting. Nightmares, hallucinations, the works. He's been more violent recently, too, but obviously not as much as Batman has been."
"You, uh, you know?"
"Yeah. Kinda hard not to figure it out while living here, and you coming in today didn't help that." Tim blushed and sipped his water. "Though, like you, I showed up on Dick's doorstep already knowing he's Nightwing."
"Oh? And how well did that pan out for you?"
Danny shrugged. "I offered him help and refused to leave until he accepted it."
Tim laughed. "That's what I did to Bruce!"
They shared a smile. Danny lifted his cup as if to toast. "Here's to a couple of goblins with hero complexes." Tim lifted his cup to join Danny's toast and they both took a drink.
Giggling, the two finished their water in relative quiet, the air around them comfortable.
"Say," Tim asked, putting his cup down on the coffee table, "How old are you?"
"Fourteen. You?"
"Same."
"Cool."
"You're parents know where you are?"
"Nope. I would ask if yours do, but you already answered that."
"Yeah, they aren't really around much. I did tell Alfred I'd be gone, though, so he knows I'm not home."
"Yeah, but does he know you're here?"
"No."
"Hm." A beat. "Who's Alfred?"
Another laugh startled out of Tim. "Bruce's butler. Did Dick tell you nothing?"
Danny shrugged again. "I haven't pushed for answers about anything; I'm not a therapist. I'm just here because he's going to end up killing himself at the rate he's been working himself."
"So is Bruce," Tim admitted softly, "But he's going to end up taking Gotham down with him if no one stops him."
"So what are you going to do?"
He thought for a long minute, weighing options in his mind before saying, "I guess I'll have to be the help he needs me to be."
Danny tilted his head sideways like a dog. "What do you mean?"
Tim squared his shoulders, though he was still hesitant. "Batman needs a Robin, and if Dick isn't going to be that for him, then I guess I'll have to be."
Another beat. "But do you want to be a vigilante?"
"Does it matter if I want to be?" Tim asks, "If I don't then no one will." He took a deep, steadying breath. "Gotham is my home. I can't let Bruce destroy it in his grief."
"I understand." Danny nodded, "But what you want does matter. I know I can't stop you, so I'm not going to try, but I'm going to make you promise me something." He made sure to hold Tim's gaze. "You ask for help when you need it." He held out his hand and waited.
"What?"
"You're phone. Give it to me." Reluctantly, he did so. As soon as the flip phone was in his hand, Danny put his number in it before giving it back. 'You don't have to do this alone, okay, Tim? Promise that you'll call me when you need help, okay? Any time of day, I'll answer."
Tim stared at his now closed phone, the weight grounding him for a moment. "Are you going to be a vigilante to help Nightwing?"
"I already am."
"Huh?"
"It's why I'm here, It's why I know I can't stop you and why I'm making sure you know I'll be here to help you."
Nothing else was said between the boys. Nothing else needed to be said.
Part 7
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mydearlybeloathed · 2 days
Text
── 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐍
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: one too many times luffy has allowed himself to hit the sea, sinking beneath her waves, completely at ease with the trusted fact that you would save him. this time, though, you've had enough.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: luffy x mermaid!reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 0.9k
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: continuation of this fic, a liiiiitle bit of angst, fluff, feminine terms used, requested
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Your chest heaved as you glared through slitted eyes, targeting your limp and drenched captain who lay beside you. Your tail scraped uncomfortably against the wood of the deck, water dripping off your nose, cheeks, and shoulders.
"Why," you seethed, "On this wide blue sea did you even conceive that jumping after the bitch was a good plan?"
He sputtered up some water, laughing dopily as his eyes met yours. "I thought I could catch 'im. 'Sides, you saved me, didn't ya?"
Fists coiling on the ground, you gritted your teeth and thought to lash out your nails at him. "I am not your lifeguard, Luffy. Did you even consider that it hurts me when you put yourself in danger like that?" You thought back to the battle, growing blind to the awkward presence of the crew. "I was stuck fighting two of those pirates! What if I hadn't made it in time?"
"But... you did," he shrugged, not understanding one bit. He trusted you, and why shouldn't he? You're his mermaid, his favorite mermaid in the whole world ("You only know one mermaid, Luffy." "And I don't wanna know another!")
Ticking your teeth, you couldn’t stand to just lay there any longer. "Zoro, take me away."
After huffing to himself, Zoro lowered himself at your side, hooking your arms round his neck and scooping you up into his broad arms. Luffy's eyes narrowed, but he remained unable to lift his head more than a few inches, forced to watch his first mate carry you to your room.
He cast a look around, befuddled. "What did I do wrong?"
Nami sighed with a shake of her head. "Idiot."
All afternoon he replayed what had happened, muttering to himself all that could have gone wrong, anything to pinpoint why you were so worried. Did you not trust yourself? Or perhaps... no... it couldn't be that.
Luffy searched you out, brows met in a stiff crease. You sat perched atop the barrel dragged up against the window of the girl's cabin, soft melodies slipping from your lips, your legs wrapped up in your arms. Luffy could listen to you all day long and never tire of the beautiful tones of your voice.
You caught him leaning on the doorframe, snapping your mouth shut mid-song. Pressing your cheek to your knees, you turned away from him. "Go away."
Instead, Luffy came closer, taking a seat on your bed with crossed legs. "Why're you still mad at me?"
"Because," you hissed, trailing off less convicted, "you scared me today."
He blinked, shifting around. "I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at me anymore. I wanted to talk to you all afternoon but you'd locked the door."
Finally lifting your head, eyes softening, you relented, "I'm not mad anymore. Just please don't do that again, not on purpose."
Soft smile splitting his face, he nodded firmly. "Promise." He scooted over to allow you room next to him, leaning back on his palms as you lay on your side and propped your head on his knee. "Can I ask you something?"
"Ask away."
"Will you ever go back?" His question had you rolling over to stare up at him. "To your home. The reef."
"Oh." Throat dry, you couldn't draw your gaze away from his, forced to face his curiously tilted head. "I suppose so. Someday. I am a princess after all. It'd be... wrong to abandon my kingdom."
"Right." Luffy nodded, eyes unfocused. "And... what if you didn't?"
It was a question you'd been wondering about a lot lately, particularly when you spent time with Luffy. "My parents would choose a new heir. One of the young warriors probably... But I couldn't ask that of them. Besides, being the queen of my reef is my destiny. What would I do instead?"
Luffy fought internally, words prying their way up, up, up, and out, until he snapped his head away and stared at the wall. "You could go back and be queen there... or you could stay, and be queen here, with me."
Internally, you were screaming. Eyes wide, you slowly rose to sit beside him, a hungry look on your face. Your lips parted in surprise, revealing the two shiny fangs Luffy often found himself mesmerized by, wondering what they would feel like if he...
"Your queen?" You asked breathlessly. "You'd want me to be Queen of the Pirates?"
He nodded, halfway into a soft reply when you flung yourself at him, nosing at his neck and clutching at his sides till he was giggling beneath you. "That--That tickles!"
Laughing along with him, you grazed a fang over his chin, looming over him with eyes alit by unfurling joy. "The reef can find a new queen."
Luffy beamed up at you, his hands finding your waist, laughter rolling off his tongue even as you swiftly narrowed your expression. "So long as you don't scare me like that again! I'll only save you if you need it!"
He hissed out one last giggle through his teeth before tugging you down into a tight embrace. "Okay, okay. I promised, all right?"
Curling around him, you nearly jittered from the mere happiness swirling inside you. "All right."
Your parents would fight this, for certain. Their princess, their heir running off with a pirate was one thing, but claiming to never return for her birthright was entirely different. Something entirely more scandalous.
And you really couldn't care less. Let them try to take you away, you thought, feeling Luffy's heartbeat beneath your palm. You were a daughter of the sea, and he felt strangely like sunlight incarnate.
A king and his queen, to be known 'round the seas.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:
@100520s
159 notes · View notes
Text
Pick Me Up || CL16 smau
summary the four times Charles picks you up and the one time you pick him up told through Instagram posts
pairing Charles Leclerc x fem!reader
warnings none that I can think of
note the social media companion to Pick Me Up
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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and others
🔒ynusername date was shit but at least Charles could pick me up
friend1 I'm sorry girl ↳ ynusername it's okay bestie
charles_leclerc not to say I told you so but... ↳ ynusername 🖕🏼
pierregasly boooooo all my homies hate what's his face ↳ ynusername Pierre 😮😮 ↳ pierregasly idk his name
friend2 his loss you look good af ❤️ by charles_leclerc
francisca.cgomes date me!! ↳ ynusername next time you're here babe!
landonorris mamma mia 😍 ↳ charles_leclerc no ↳ landonorris I'm just saying she looks good mate ↳ georgerussell63 and pushing your luck ↳ landonorris okay 😞😞 but you still look very good yn ↳ ynusername thank you lando ☺️
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liked by friend1, yourdadinsta and others
🔒ynusername how the day started vs how it ended. thank you Charles
charles_leclerc anytime ma cherie
yourdadinsta yes, thank you charles for picking up my baby girl ❤️ by charles_leclerc
joris_trouche prince charles to the rescue ↳ charles_leclerc you know it 💪🏼
charles_leclerc why this picture yn ↳ ynusername cause it makes me happy ↳ charles_leclerc 😇😇 ↳ maxverstappen1 simp🫵🏻🫵🏻🫵🏻 ↳ ynusername don't be mean to mon chou ↳ charles_leclerc yeah you heard the girl
friend3 why are we thanking charles? ↳ ynusername because clairo broke down and he picked me up ↳ friend3 nooo not clairo ↳ ynusername i know right?!
lewishamilton the merc broke down 😬😬 ↳ ynusername it's so sad 😞
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liked by carmenmmundt, lilymhe and others
🔒ynusername can yacht pick me up
alexalbon no can YOU pick me up ↳ ynusername of course! ↳ alexalbon only if lily is there ↳ ynusername 😳
oscarpiastri mom?? dad??? ↳ ynusername yes son? ↳ oscarpiastri you guys left me at school again ↳ charles_leclerc we're on our way ↳ ynusername with ice cream ↳ oscarpiastri are you bribing me?? ↳ charles_leclerc is it working? ↳ oscarpiastri if you bring leo too yes
friend2 wowowow you are sooooo pretty ↳ ynusername thank you babe
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liked by pierregasley, francisca.cgomes and others
🔒ynusername bad bitches going to the club >> Charles when he has to pick me up >> hungover me at Charles stomping around the apartment before he leaves for training
friend1 shoutout to that girl who sent us this pic!!! ↳ friend2 she's a real one ↳ friend3 miss her for real ↳ friend4 she didn't abandon us for a friend ↳ ynusername 🥲
lewishamilton if you're gonna use this picture then i think you deserve the headache ↳ ynusername booooo you're being so mean
maxverstappen1 yeah i don't think that's what charles looked like at all ↳ charles_leclerc we weren't facetiming, you wouldn't know? ↳ landonorris yeah but we know you so we do know what you looked like
francisca.cgomes i wanna go out with you and the girls ↳ friend2 yes please! ↳ lilymhe count me in! ↳ carmenmmundt i'll be there too!! ↳ ynusername girls night out 2.0 ↳ friend4 he better be your boyfriend by the time we do this again ↳ ynusername ?? ↳ friend4 oh yn
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liked by yourmominsta, oscarpiastri and others
🔒ynusername I kinda like him or something
charles_leclerc i kinda like you too, or something ❤️ by ynusername
friend1 BITCH FINALLY THE FUCK ↳ friend4 i manifested this shit ↳ friend2 can you manifest something that was bound to happen anyway ↳ friend4 let me have this win please
pierregasly you loooooove him ↳ ynusername if you're not nice to me I'm stealing kika ↳ francisca.cgomes you can steal me anyway ↳ ynusername bet ↳ pierregasly wait!!!
landonorris it's about damn time
joris_trouche bleugh you guys are gross ↳ ynusername pic creds to joris ↳ joris_trouche changed my mind you guys are sooooo cute ↳ charles_leclerc thanks mate
yourmominsta you two are such a lovely couple ↳ ynusername mama ❤️❤️❤️
arthurleclerc okay bestie!!! good thing I lied and said I couldn't pick him up ↳ charles_leclerc i never asked you ↳ arthurleclerc shut up, this was all part of my masterplan
205 notes · View notes
monstersandmaw · 1 day
Note
Monster: Werewolf
Prompt: Childhood friends to lovers?
I can't drabble, apparently. Also there's some angst with a hopeful ending. :3
__
Gods, it hurts to look at him now. It shouldn't, but it does.
You've seen him skin his knees falling off the new bike his parents bought him. He'd been showing off and trying to do a wheelie. You've seen him crying after he put his palm down on a wasp while the two of you were splashing in the blow-up swimming pool when you were six. You've seen him with ice cream all round his face on a sleepover where you watched a movie that was too scary for the both of you and you both cried and curled up under the blankets together to sleep that night.
And then you went to high school together and he broke the hearts of everyone who had one to lose in the first place. Tall, athletic, handsome, he grew into his body in a way you didn't think you ever would.
He went to college and you moved across the country, and you used to call each other and talk late into the night.
Then he went silent.
At first you'd been worried enough to call his parents, but they just told you he was going through something and it would be best if you didn't call again.
Gods, that had hurt. You'd thought that was the worst pain, but now, seeing him in some bar in the city, with his sleeves cuffed up to his elbows and a whisky glinting in a cut glass tumbler between his lax fingers... He looks incredible and you feel like shit.
You whisper his name, and there's no way he should have heard it over the live band in the corner, but he jolts like he's been electrocuted and turns around with a wild look in his eyes, and the glass slips from his fingers onto the bar with a clunk.
You see his mouth form the shape of your name and he's half risen from the stool before he staggers a little. He's not drunk; he's shocked. He says your name again and the music steals it away again.
You cross to him and he looks down at you, his breathing shallow and fast. The light catches his eyes and flares them gold like the toss of a coin.
He says your name again and reaches for your shoulders as if to check you're real; that you're really standing there.
"Fuck," he whispers. "Fuck, I've missed you so much."
"What happened?" you breathe back, looking up at him.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he exhales as he sits down heavily on that stool again and takes a deep draw from the whisky.
"I always believed you," you said. "Until you told me we'd talk soon. That was four years ago."
He screws his eyes shut. "I'm sorry."
"Try me," you say again and there's fire in your voice now. He hears it, and when he looks back at you, his eyes really are glowing gold.
"Alright..." he says. "Here goes nothing."
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edgeray · 21 hours
Note
Hi there!
I just finish to read the rules for Arlecchino request, and I saw no specific illness/disease, so I will try to make my situation for everyone:
I have horrible knee pain to the point I'm close to faint because of it sometimes.
But to put it more accessible to everyone what about that:
Reader hurt themself during a mission but it was an intern injury, they hide it but Arlecchino noticed how they start walking weird and many other sign.. until Reader faint from the pain? How will Arlecchino react and what would she do?
Sorry if it disobey the rules and for any grammar mistake since English is not my first language ^^ (and I'm writing this while it's 12 am where I'm from ;/ )
Thank you if you are making this request, if not I still thank you for reading it until the end :)
I Am Fine in Your Arms
(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)
A/N - Hi, there anon! If you choose to request anon again, give yourself a name/emoji 🫶! I really appreciate you pertaining to my rules; not only do I want to make my x Reader's accessible to as many people, but I also don't want to misrepresent anyone or their experiences with that illness/condition especially since I myself most likely won't have them, so thanks for the consideration. I'm assuming by ‘intern injury’ you mean ‘internal injury,’ so that's what I'm writing based off. You're not breaking any of my rules but your concern is appreciated! Don't worry about it though. Your English is good, especially since it's not your first language :). Little bit rushed because I am tired and ti's 12AM. Thank you for your request! Content warnings / info - reader goes by ‘mother’ but gn! reader, semi-graphic details about injury, this weirdly had actual plot for some reason, 1.5k words
Although the vast majority of your duties was primarily serving the House of the Hearth and the Fourth Harbinger, as a member of the Fatui, it was mandatory for the Fatui to ensure you still held loyalties to the Tsaritsa. Typically, proof of your fidelity was through completing the occasional reconnaissance mission assigned to you every couple of months though this time you were given a different type of operation: direct action, specifically, assassination. 
Assassination wasn't necessarily your forte, but it was doable. In a few weeks, you'd stop scrubbing your hands incessantly in hopes of washing away the stained blood, and you would stop receiving dreams painted in red. At least, with reconnaissance, blood and violence could be avoided. Why you were assigned this particular assassination mission when there were much more suitable candidates, you could only assume. You had an inkling it had to do with some of the other Harbingers’ grudges and suspicions of your husband, and perhaps the chink in the Knave's impenetrable armor  would be you. Failure in this mission could quickly spiral into considerable consequences for you and Arlecchino, regardless if the designation was influenced by more untrustworthy Harbingers, so you couldn't afford to fail this anyways–not with how high profile this target was. 
You return to the House of the Hearth, splatters of blood still visible on your appearance despite your best attempts of cleaning up. At your arrival, some of the children rush to greet you, only to pause as they take in your exhausated form. You give them a weak smile, bending down and extending your arms to accept their eager embraces.
“M-mother!” the children exclaim as they swarm around you, their curious and anxious minds surely brimming with many questions. You hadn't told any of the children where you've gone to for the past few days, believing that there was no need to stir up such worries when the mission was going expectedly. You were wrong, however; no mission like the one they had given you should have been done alone, and yet the only one you could depend on was yourself and your vision. It was undeniably a test for you, and you had only scraped by with your life and the mission's success. Now, all you wanted to do was collapse in bed and hibernate for several weeks, your head filled with a dense fog and senses dulling.  
“Mother, there's blood on–” Barely able to hear the statement, you shake your head, dismissing the little girl's distress. “Don't worry, dear… it's not mine.”
With some effort, you pull away from the children and you hobble your way towards the living commons, your bruised ribs impelling pained grunts from you. 
“Someone…” you pant, placing your hand over your forehead. Leaning against the nearest wall, you shut your eyes, breathing in deeply as an attempt to relieve the ache. “Someone go get your Father.” 
Multiple feet scurry away after your command, but the remaining children around you overwhelm you with their burning questions of what they can do to help, what did you need, whether or not you needed medicine, and much more that you couldn't bother processing.  Gently, you push past them, making your way to you and Arlecchino's shared bedroom. 
“I'm sorry, children, I just need to lay down in private for a little bit, okay? Then I promise that I will be up soon, and we can make cookies. How does that sound?” You say to them in an effort to quell their anxiety and it works for the younger children. The older ones, however, you can tell they still carry some distress but they nod along for your sake.
Such good children. 
You enter your bedroom and shut the door, immediately peeling away your clothes caked in blood, not even bothering to go into your adjacent bathroom. After chucking the articles in the direction of the laundry basket, you dig through the wardrobe for your much more prefered uniform, the one you wore as ‘Mother.’ By that time, the door clicks, and your husband enters.
Arlecchino wastes no time in appearing by your side, her blackened hands wrapped around your hips, and guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed. You hoped that you were able to hide your wince in time when she touched you. You know your husband far too well to know that, despite her stoic expression, she is just as worried for you, if not more, than your children. There's that small knit in her brows, and her lips are curled the slightest bit more. She had always been fiercely protective of you. 
“My love, there's blood–��� she starts, but you cut her off with a chuckle. “I know, one of the children already pointed it out.”
Then, your tone hardens. There's no need to wait to let her know. “I need to tell you something.”
“You should rest.”
You shake your head. “This comes first, Arlecchino.” 
“You just came back.” 
“Peruere,” you enunciate, quickly silencing the Knave. “I am fine,” you assure her with a stern tone but fond eyes. You let out a defeated huff, resorting to wrapping your arms around her and leaning your head against her shoulder to ease her and to conceal your pained expression as your body protested the movement. 
Remaining in that position, you brief her on your mission and every single detail to it. From the process of researching and finding the opportune time to, to the actual execution of the assassinatin, which proved to be much more complicated and difficult than you were able to account for. This was due to the lack of information given to you once you were assigned. With the absence of partners and the omittance of crucial details, it is, undoubtedly, an attempt to sabotage you and cause you to fail. The two of you discussed what to do, going forward in cases like this, as well as potential suspects, their motives, and wouldbe gains. With each growing minute, Arlecchino held you tighter and you leaned in closer. 
After the conversation finished, your husband quietly held you, without uttering another sound, for around half-an-hour, the two of you indulging in one another's company. You pull away with a kiss to her forehead.
“I promised the kids I would make cookies with them. Would you like some?” 
Arlecchino knows better than to say no. She gives you a curt nod. You hum with acknowledgement to her answer, standing up from sitting on the bed. Almost instantaneously, the moment you stabilize yourself on your feet, your vision grows black and an abrupt throbbing comes to your head. You stumble forward, but catch yourself. 
“Love–”
“I'm fine. Just stood up too fast,” you gruff, staggering your way towards the door but the limp is far too obvious. You only make it a few steps before you stumble over again, nearly hitting the floor if it weren't for Arlecchino’s quick reflexes. Stabbing pain surrounds you, and paired with your fatigued state, you no longer have the energy to ignore the agony. She cradles you in her arms and you glance up at her. Your sight swims, and her appearance keeps distorting before you. Clinging onto consciousness seems to be a losing battle. 
“The cookies…”
“Forget about the cookies. You said you were fine,” Arlecchino scolded through gritted teeth, with some frustration and anger in her voice. Placing her arm underneath your back and underneath your legs, she carries you bridal-style, already rushing towards the medical bay. 
“Stay awake for me. Stay awake,” it is a harsh demand, but you know it is nothing more than a desperate plea. Your eyelids droop and you close your eyes.
Arlecchino lets out an expletive under her breath, quickening her pace as she barges into the room. The specialized doctor for the House of the Hearth is startled, but the Harbinger's intense glower tells the doctor all she needs to know. 
“Find out what is wrong with her, and fix it. Now,” the Harbinger orders, and the doctor goes into work immediately once your body is placed on the bed. 
The Knave soundlessly watches the doctor's each and every action, refusing to budge by your side. Although she knows that medical treatment is not her expertise, Arlecchino cannot help but critique her doctor in her thoughts. Not fast enough, not effective enough, not enough for her darling who could be experiencing unbearable pain now.
The doctor works until she assures the Harbinger that everything that could be done is, and that you will wake in the following morning. Arlecchino wordlessly thanks the doctor but her hand that clasps yours doesn't move for even one movement. Eventually, night falls. Climbing into the small bed, she tenderly wraps her arms around you, unable to be pulled apart from you until she knows your safety is guaranteed. Underneath her skin, seething rage boils for the coworkers who try to deprive her of her authority and power, but most of all, for causing you in this state.
The next morning, Arlecchino's eyes flutter open when she feels the warm body next to her stir. She awakens to your soft smile.
“I said I was fine, didn't I?” You greet her with a twinkle in your eyes. 
Arlecchino's heart swells.
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freyaphoria · 1 day
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this has been on my mind the wholeeeee daaaaaaaay 😩😩
ur bf yunho playing valorant, you suprising him by supporting him under the desk and when he's done, he thanks you by filling you up a few times 🥴🥴
Jeong Yunho, what are you doing to me 🫠😫
Hi! I'm sorry it took me so long to reply because I'm so embarrassed when writing smut :,)
Best Support
tw: SMUT! cursing, bj (is this how to put in tw idk?) thats it i think
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"Yunho... I'm so bored." You were lying on Yunho's bed, checking social media for an hour because your boyfriend was engrossed in his favorite game again. You took another breath of distress as your phone battery ran out. You got up from the bed angrily and looked for your charger.
"Yunho, have you seen my charger?” He was so caught up in the game that he didn't respond. After looking around a little more, you remembered where it was: You had plugged it into the socket under Yunho's desk, since all the sockets in his room were occupied. You went over to him and tried to move his chair a little to the side so that you could reach down and grab the charger. But of course he didn't even move. "Yunho, can you move over a little?" He still didn't answer you as if he was in another world, but he must have heard what you said because he moved his chair a little to the left. You bent down, crawled under his desk, and unplugged the charger. Just as you were about to get back out from under the table, an idea came to your mind: If he's not interested in me, then I'll take care of him.
You began to gently caress his legs. You moved your hands a little higher to get his attention. Yunho suddenly pulled back and looked under the table at you. "What are you doing there, tiny?" You looked at him with your cute little puppy eyes. "Nothing, I was looking for my charger, don't mind me." Yunho chuckled and went back to his game. You went back to your plan and caressed his thigh. The gray tracksuit he was wearing wrinkled and became visible where his dick was when he moved his leg. Holding his knees, you spread his legs further and brought your face towards his crotch. Yunho fidgeted in his seat as you began to move your hands there. "Tiny, I'm in an important match right now. Can you wait a little bit?" You dug your nails into his thigh. "I came to support you."
Yunho lifted his hips to help you as you grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants and pulled them down. "Well, you're not helping at all. You're going to make me lose the match." he chuckled. "If you dont want I can go." He let out a sharp breath as you teasingly ran your hand around his cock. "No. I definitely do." He opened his legs wider for easier access. You continued to tease him with one hand while clawing at his thigh with the other. Yunho was moving his hips impatiently, rubbing his cock in his boxers against your hand.
"How many minutes until the game ends?" He let out a small moan as you freed him from the becoming increasingly tight boxer. "11 minutes." You took him in your hand and stroked him, smearing his pre-cum all along his cock. "I'll give you the best head of your life in 11 minutes."
When you took it into your mouth, he cursed through his teeth. Yunho was so big that it normally took a while and a lot of preparation to get him completely into you and your mouth. But right now, you set aside all your gag reflex and aimed to take it all into your mouth. You moved forward until your nose touched his abdomen and you tried to breathe through your nose, but even that was impossible. When you thought you were ready, you started sucking him, moving your head back and forth. You were so wet too that if it weren't for your underwear and shorts, your juice would drip onto the floor. "Fuck, tiny. I must have trained you well. Now you can take me completely." He was having a hard time not moving his hips. He could barely focus on the game. The room was filled with Yunho's keyboard, mouse, and breathing sounds, and your wet, filthy noises. As you reached the tip of his dick, you pumping the exposed part with your hands and then took him whole inside your mouth. Your rapid continuation of the same rhythm made his head spin and the screen blurred with pleasure.
You realized he was close when he couldn't control himself and thrust his hips into you. Your saliva and his pre-cum dripping mixed together on your chest. When he saw that there were only 30 seconds left in the match, he thought he couldn't stand anymore, so he left the mouse, grabbed your hair, started using you however he wants by controlling your head, and you allowed him.
His legs shook as he came into your mouth and he ordered you in a deep-husky-post-orgasm voice. "Swallow it or I won't fuck you." You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out to show that you swallowed. "Did you win?" you asked as you licked the remainings from your lips. Gently supporting you by your arm, he pulled you out from under the table, brought you to his lap and removed your shorts. "Yes I won thanks to you. Now I have to reward you, right?" He pulled your underwear aside and aligned his cock with your entrance. "Do you want to see how many rounds it takes before you faint?"
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a/n: Hello! Pls give me feedback bec I'm not sure if I'm writing the smuts properly. Also, I would be very happy if you could give me some ideas♡
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mamisfavmosher · 2 days
Note
Hi can you write poly judgement day x alt s/o where they got to a haunted house together and they have fun until she gets hit on by scare actors and they get possessive and she has to tell them she’s only there’s please and ps love your poly fics sm 💕
y'all this is so overdue, i'm so sorry
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four haunts // poly!judgment day x fem!alt!reader
warnings: language, kinda gory scene?, haunted house with scare actors
Also, JD McDonagh is not in this... NOT PROOFREAD
Readers POV
Not too long ago, Dominik had discovered some type of year long haunted house and wanted to go, so on our day off we decided to head over and see how it went. When we pulled up to the attraction, it wasn't too busy, maybe two or three other cars beside ours. We all piled out of Rhea's truck and began walking toward the entrance, excited to see if it would actually be scary or not. "This better be good, Dom," Rhea sighed out with a small chuckle, throwing her keys in her bag before hooking an arm around Dom's neck. "Since you made me drive 40 minutes to get here." "It's gonna be great, don't worry, Mami." Dom responded back before looking at the worn down attraction with apprehension. "...I think." I let out a laugh and started running toward the entrance of the house, excited to see what was inside. "C'mon, guys!" I called back to them before stepping into the house. "Babygirl, slow down!" I heard Damian yell out to me, but I was already inside the house, walking down a hallway.
I smiled as I felt my fear and adrenaline begin to pump through my veins. The house seemed to be pretty spooky so far with fake blood splattered on the walls, creaky floorboards, flickering lights, and gross odors wafting through the air. My four partners filed in through the door before catching up with me.
"Let's start with this room." Finn said before grabbing my hand and leading me into the first room on our left. It seemed to be decorated as some type of surgical room. As soon as we were all in the room, the door shut behind us. "Uh... what's going on?" I asked the rest of them quietly, waiting for some type of jump scare.
"No idea, but this place is wack-" Dom cut himself off by his own scream as someone in a creepy surgeon costume jumped out at him. The rest of us jumped a bit as well before cackling a bit at Dom's scream. "Nice one, Dom Dom." Damian chuckled out and ruffled Dom's hair a bit. All of a sudden, the creepy surgeon started coming towards me, reaching out a hand like he was going to touch me. I didn't freak out, though. It was one of the rules posted out front that the actors wouldn't touch you. Till he did. Then I started freaking out a bit.
"Hey, cut it out! I thought they weren't allowed to touch us!" I said with annoyance while slapping his hand off of me.
"Get the hell away from her!" Rhea moved to stand next to me, putting her arm out in front of me as a form of protection against the scare actor. He silently put his hands up in surrender before creeping back into the closet he popped out of. The door to the room opened back up and we quickly filed out to visit a different room. "If any of those creeps try something again, we're leaving." Rhea said in a strict tone, leaving no room for arguments.
The next room we entered was a dining room, a gross, rotting feast displayed on top of the table. Finn let out a quiet gagging noise before we proceeded further into the room.
"Take a seat!" Yelled out a scare actor who was dressed as a half-dead butler. We all hesitated for a moment before begrudgingly sitting down at the disgusting table. A crazed looking chef walked through the entrance to the room straight over to me. As soon as I looked up at him, I could tell it was the same scare actor that played the creepy surgeon. He beelined over to me and immediately put his hands on my chair to try and scoot me in further before he brought his hands up to rest on my shoulders.
"Man, you're not gonna keep doing this!" Damian said angrily as he stood up from the chair beside me. The scare actor quickly backed off a bit, but took a step closer to me and dropped a napkin in front of me before walking back out the door.
I cautiously picked up the napkin to inspect it, immediately spotting a phone number written on it in fake blood. I threw it off into the center of the table in disgust and Dom picked it up to look at it, Rhea and Finn peering over his shoulders.
"Oh hell no!" Rhea said in a furious tone, standing up from her chair and beginning to march out of the room.
"Rhea, wait!" I called out, running after her, but Damian pulled me back and ran after Rhea himself, no doubt having the same intentions as her.
Rhea and Damian stormed after the scare actor as he rushed down the hall. They both yelled a few threats out to him before Finn, Dom, and I caught up to them, pulling them back towards us.
"Let's get out of here before these two rip that dude to shreds." Finn said while grabbing both Rhea and Damian by their elbows and dragging them towards the front door. We quickly made it outside of the haunted house and we forced the two furious, raging members of the Judgment Day back into Rhea's truck.
"Guys, just calm down... it's fine. Really." I said in a soft voice in hopes of them calming down just a bit. They were fired up and angry.
"Baby, if you think for a second that we're not gonna put up a fight when some creep tries to give you his number, then I'm sorry, honey, but you're dead wrong." Damian muttered under breath, practically fuming in the passenger seat.
"I'm not saying I don't appreciate you defending me, but maybe you guys shouldn't go around threatening people's lives?" I questioned with a small smile, reaching my hands out to gently rest on their shoulders.
"Sweetheart, it's kinda our job. We gotta make sure you're safe and protected at all times." Rhea countered back with a smirk. I let out a sigh and playfully shook my head at their mutterings.
"Whatever. I love you guys. Thanks for keeping me safe and protected." I laughed a bit and relaxed into the back seats of the truck while Rhea drove us home, Dom and Finn on either side of me keeping a protective hand on me the whole way.
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doctorcurdlejr · 1 day
Text
Riverdale characters and their opinions on granking it
Archie -> supports Veronica and Jughead, doesn't listen to MCR all that much, and therefore takes the neutral stance that whatever his friends say is probably true and those men are divorced (was half listening to anything ever said to him)
Betty -> yeah go ahead and clock the peter pan collar with CoverGirl lipstick dramatically smeared off her face that's a MCR fan. Well known bisexual but deeply homophobic, therefore anybody who even mentions grank is a freak. YES she makes that disgusted look if somebody even mentions rpf, tries to tone it down for Veronica. Once got curious and read a 100k grank fem au, printed it out, ate a page, and then set it on fire at 2am.
Veronica -> Catholic 💥 Bisexual 💥 Dresses frequently in dark colors 💥 Casually morbid 💥 Loves theater 💥 not only does she grank it but my girl puts on her reading glasses to scroll through old live journal posts like she's a hardboiled detective ready to lock into the facts of the matter. "Jughead I could use another pair of eyes on this" it's 240p footage of those men fighting on stage. She keeps sending lesbo grank fics to Betty followed by "lol sorry meant for Jug." To which Betty responds "V. 😑"
Jughead -> [11am] violently typing a reply on a google doc for his creative writing class "I take offense at your claim that this is derivative of Velvet Goldmine just because I'm playing with similar themes. As to your second point, Cheryl, this band is an entirely fictional amalgamation meant to represent how our culture interfaced with the purely symbolic icons of the era." [2pm] "You're totally right, Bets. Really wish people could just appreciate the artistry and think more meaningfully about the MESSAGE." [10pm] sitting at his typewriter in Veronica's speakeasy where an entire diagram is laid out before him "This goes beyond stage gay. I'm sure of it."
Cheryl -> TO MX. G: Visiting fabulous Cali for the next fortnight. May I place Julian in your care for an evening? Have been absolutely overwhelmed with requests to visit darling Rosy. Whatever day works best, I understand scheduling so last minute may be difficult with your various dalliances. Ta!
Toni -> Once a regular contributor to Friends of Frerard night at the speakeasy, but suspiciously stopped all attendance after a vacation with Cheryl.
Kevin -> couldn't even tell you a band member's name but, in an attempt to be included in a conversation about homosexuality, once showed up at the speakeasy and laughingly asked Veronica if it was anything like Simon & Garfunkel. Before she could respond Jughead threw a copy of What is it All But Luminous at his head and told him to get out if he couldn't even be bothered to hold himself to their same level of base academic rigour.
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cosyvelvetorchid · 11 hours
Note
I love the fic idea of the team finding out that Buck and Tommy are dating because one of them gets injured at an incident that both stations responded to and the other one looses their mind when they find out
Thank you for the prompt. I made a slight change to it but I think (hope) you'll like it 😊
If anybody else has promt ideas btw, send to my ask and I'll write some more!
Also this was supposed to be a short one but I got carried away 😂
****
Buck was never a fan of weighted blankets. He'd tried once once but felt like he was suffocating under it and then had to give birth himself to get out. Maddie had told him that he probably just had one that was the wrong weight for him and that he just had to find the right one. Turns out she was right. He did eventually find the right one.
His name was Tommy.
He was beginning to get used to waking up to a scratchy face buried into his neck and a thick muscular arm draped across his chest. Every time he awoke in this position, it was a struggle to get out of bed. Not just because he was in a weaker, sleepier state and didn't have the strength to move Tommy, but also because he didn't want to.
He couldn't remember a time when waking up with a previous partner and feeling this happy. He wasn't concerned about his morning breath that Taylor always complained about or his dishevelled curls sticking out all over the place that Ali laighed at. Or even his morning wood, which Natalia always made fun of him for. He knew she was doing so playfully, but it tapped into that deep-rooted anxiety he had about not being good enough.
But Tommy didn't complain about those things. He'd kiss Buck every morning - Buck had stopped trying to automatically push away from the kiss, declaring that he needed to brush his teeth first because Tommy truly didn't care. He'd sometimes wake Buck up by running his fingers through his hair. As for the morning wood.. Tommy had no business complaining about that as he was just as guilty.
Tommy stirred and hummed into Bucks neck, pulling Buck into him. Buck turned slightly and pushed his back into Tommy's chest.
"Mmmm-morning, babe." Tommy mumbled
"Mornin" Buck replied lifting Tommy's hand from his chest to kiss it. An asteroid hurtling to earth couldn't seperate them Buck thought. Until the asteroid hit in the form of a reminder from Tommy.
"What time is Eddie picking you up?"
He'd forgotten that Eddie had offered to pick Buck up for work while his Jeep was in the shop. Tommy's late night visit was impromptu. He'd had a rough shift and wanted to see Buck. He wasn't planning on staying the night but they were both exhausted, so a quick visit turned into a literal sleepover.
"He'll be here in.." He reached out to look at his phone; eyes squinting at the brightness. "About 30 minutes."
"Boooooo" Tommy complained into Bucks neck and he laughed. "I better get going." He added shifting away from Buck to sit on the edge of the bed. Buck felt a pang of guilt.
"I'm sorry, Tommy." Tommy turned and placed a hand on Bucks chest.
"Hey. We talked about this - it's okay. We go at your pace, remember? If you're not ready to tell them about us, about you then that's okay. No rush, babe." He leaned down and kissed Buck gently. Buck immediately put his hands around Tommy's neck to deepen the kiss. Tommy, through all his strength, removed Bucks' hands and broke the kiss.
"Don't even think about it." He teased getting off the bed.
"Spoil sport."
***
It had been four days since they had seen each other. Buck hated it; felt like that missing piece of himself that he'd found when he'd met Tommy was missing every time he wasn't with him.
"Earth to Buckeroo." Chimney clicked his fingers in front of Buck face. He looked up to see the whole team staring at him from around the table.
"What is with you lately? You're lost in your own world more than usual?" Hen asked.
"Oh-uh.. nothing. Just..uh.. I'm not sleeping great lately." Another pang of guilt fizzed in his stomach. He hated lying to everybody. He knew they would be absolutely fine with him dating Tommy - after inevitably ribbing him incessantly, of course - it wasn't that. It was just that this was all so new to him, and while he was sure about his feelings, he just wanted more time to settle into them.
Bobby made a welcome subject change.
"Don't forget with the Santa Anas on their way it might be a rough one for a couple days so keep alert, rest when you can and most importantly-" He gestured to the table full of food in front of them "-eat."
***
Bobby wasn't kidding. 18 hours into their 24 and they'd barely had time to rest. 3 fires, a tree falling onto a car and house, and a 4 car pile up. No sooner had they returned to the station the bell rang once again.
"Where we going cap?"
"We've been asked to assist Harbor Station with fire suppression at the edge of Angeles forest."
Bucks heartrate immediately raised at the mention of Harbor Station. Realistically, he knew he probably wouldn't see Tommy - he'd be up in the air - but he was still excited.
"What are you smiling at?" Eddie asked him. Buck really needed to tell his face to stop emoting.
"I'm not smiling." He argued. Eddie and Chimney shared a look. Buck didn't notice.
***
"The explosion happened in the factory approximately 6 hours ago and spread to the homes nearby. No deaths so far. Couple of minor injuries and alot of smoke inhilation. The 133 and 127 are focusing on the factory, 144 and 156 are working on the houses and we have 217 Harbor station doing water drops - I need you guys to keep the fire from reaching the tree line. With how dry it's been lately, those trees go up and were looking at a major forest fire." Chief Alonso told them.
With jobs assigned and gear on they got to work. 1 factory, 5 cars and 9 houses - this fire was a beast Buck thought. He wasn't sure the flush he felt was because of the reminder of the wedding or from the fire.
"Attention all units! This is Firefighter Kinard-" Bucks heart flipped in his chest "-217 is inbound with fire suppression. Take appropriate cover, over."
"Copy that 217, over. Everybody under the trucks now!" Bobby commanded. Everybody scrambled underneath the engines as the force of the water falling on top made them shake.
Buck emerged from cover, immediately looking up, trying to spot Tommys plane. He caught the tail end of it and smiled to himself. This time, his mask covering it.
Everyone's radios crackled into life with the words no firefighter wants to hear.
"Mayday mayday! This is firefighter Kinard. We have lost all power. Plane is going down. I-" silence.
For a moment, Bucks' heart stopped. As did everything else around him. No sound, so movement, no nothing. He had only just found him. His life was only just complete. Not now. Please, god, not now.
"This is Captain Nash. Come in 217, over." Nothing. "Firefighter Kinard, come in, over." Silence again.
Somehow Buck found the strength to bring his brain back to life.
"Cap, we gotta get to him-them" He corrected. Bobby went to say something, but Buck didn't give him a chance. "It's Tommy he's.. he was 118, right? Doesn't that make him family?"
Bobby contemplated Bucks' words. Hen, in the end, convinced Cap with a look and a head tilt. She agreed with Buck.
"Hen, you take Buck and Eddie. Chim, you're here with me. Go!"
Buck got into the engine before anybody else. Adrenaline coursed through his body. He didn't know if he wanted to scream, cry, or vomit.
News came in over the radio that the plane had crashed 3 miles away in a field. As the engine turned and raced along side of the field, they got a look at the plane.
It was still intact. As much as it could have been. One wing has broken off and there were holes and scrapes along its sides but no fire. Thank god. Hen radioed for an ambulance as Buck and Eddie ran over to the plane. Its nose was tilted up.
"I can't see inside!" Buck cried out. He tried opening the door but couldn't. It was jammed.
"I'll get the saw, hold on!" Eddie told him, running back to the engine. Buck tried grabbing and pulling and kicking the door to try and open it. A twinge reverberated through his ankle on that last kick, but he didn't notice; too desperate to get inside.
Then he remembered something Tommy had told him once about an emergency hatch underneath. He crawled underneath the belly of the plane and spotted it towards the front end. Thankfully, it didn't take a lot of force to push it up, and quickly, he was hoisting himself inside. He immediately headed for the cockpit.
"Tommy!" He yelled out, voice cracking.
"Evan?" Came the muffled reply. Buck pulled the cockpit door open and saw Tommy still his seat.
"Tommy!" He cried out again, kneeling next to him, eyes scanning the damage. Blood was dripping from a small wound on his forehead. His right hand was holding his stomach as his left held his right shoulder. "Oh my god, are you okay?" His hands hovered over Tommys body continually moving, not knowing where to place them for fear of causing him pain. Tommy shifted, trying to look at Buck and winced.
"Argh! Yeah.. Pretty sure I've.. broken some ribs and.. definitely dislocated my sh-shoulder." Bucks' heart broke a little at the sight as he inspected Tommy's head wound.
"I'm fine, Evan. You need to look at him." He winced again as he gestured behind Buck. Buck turned and suddenly noticed the co-pilot unconscious in the other seat. He'd been so focused on Tommy that he hadn't noticed someone else was there.
"I.. I checked his pulse.. a little up there, but.. but not too much. Breathing is.. is steady, and.."
"I got him, I got him." Buck interrupted over the sounds of Eddie pushing a saw blade through the door. He made quick work of it and was quickly appearing in the cock pit.
"Tommy, man, you alright?"
"I'll live," He replied, hissing in pain. 15 minutes later, the co-pilot was backboarded out of the plane, and Tommy was arguing with Buck about needing his own backboard.
"Tommy you don't know what other injuries you might have! You know the protocol." Buck argued
"You mean the protocol you ignored by leaving a fire to come here?"
"That.. that's different. I-I thought you were.." He couldn't finish sentence. Tears pricked at his eyes and he looked down trying to hide.
Three months. That's how long he had known Tommy, and in that short space of time, he had rooted himself into Bucks heart.
Tommy let go of his ribs for a second, bringing his left hand to Bucks face. He looked up to see Tommy trying to force a smile through his pain.
"I'm really okay." He said softly. "I won't be doing anything strenuous for a while, but I'm okay." A thumb brushed away a tear that had fallen down Bucks cheek.
"You ready, Tommy?" Hen called as she approached the cockpit. Buck sniffed and coughed away his emotions.
"Y-yeah he's good to go." He saw the backboard in Hens' hands. "He won't need that." Hen opened her mouth, but Buck stopped her. "Trust me, I've tried."
***
Tommy had correctly diagnosed himself with 2 broken ribs and a shoulder dislocation. An arm in a sling and a few stitches to his head, he laid on the hospital bed sleeping. Buck was sat, chair pulled as close to the bed as possible (he absolutely would have been in the bed with his arms wrapped around him if he could have), stroking small circles into Tommy's hand with his thumb. His hand lightly gripped Bucks, letting him know he was awake.
"Hey." He smiled
"Hey you." Buck tried smiling back but his face couldn't help morph back into something else. "How you feeling?"
"Like I was in a plane crash." He deadpanned. Buck laughed.
"Any idea when they're going to spring you from this joint?"
"They want to observe me over night, and if a is well tomorrow morning."
"Good. Good." Bucks brows furrowed.
"Whats wrong?"
"N-nothing." Even he would admit he sucked at lying.
"Evan." Tommy argued. Buck let out a breath of air.
"I-i just.. I finally understand what my exes were all talking about. When I heard your mayday call I.. I.. " Tommy squeezed his hand.
"Evan, I'm really okay. It's more than okay right now, but that might be the morphine." He added in an attempt to lighten the mood. Buck allowed himself to laugh. But then Tommy face slowly changed to a more serious one.
"Evan.. I am okay yes, but.. with what we both do.. you know there are going to be more moments like this, right? Where either of us could get hurt? If.. if being with me is too going to be too much.."
Buck immediately stopped him.
"No. No, it's not too much. Being with you is never too much. I know that when this started, I wasn't sure about myself and what I wanted, but I am sure about this. About you - I'm not going anywhere." He stood up and placed a gentle kiss onto Tommy's lips.
The nurse insisted he leave a few minutes later to give Tommy a chance to rest. He would be dichaged tomorrow morning, and Buck would pick him up. He'd forgotten his Jeep was in the shop, but he didn't care - he'd find a way. Reluctantly leaving Tommy, he made his way towards the hospital exit only to find Bobby, Chimney, Hen, Eddie, and Ravi in the waiting area.
"W-what are you guys still doing here?"
"We wanted to see if your boyfriend was okay." Chimney replied
"Yeah he's- what?"
Boyfriend. Chimney said boyfriend.
"You didn't think we knew?" Hen teased. All of them stood with smirks on their faces.
"H-how? When?"
"I knew pretty much from the beginning." Hen told him.
"Gaydar." He nodded.
"No!" She lightly slapped his arm. "It was the incessant questions about how i knew I was into women and what it was like for me coming out. And when your eyes starting lighting up when Tommy's name was mentioned in conversation, I knew that he was the reason."
"I saw him driving out of your parking lot when I came to pick you up a few days ago. Why else would he be leaving your place at 6am?" Eddie raising an eyebrow with a smirk.
"Your sister and I realised when you wouldn't shut up about him." Chimney explained.
"What about you, Bobby?" Buck asked.
"The look in your eyes when his radio call came in. I never would have let you guys go to help otherwise." Buck gave a half embarrassed smile. His eyes moved to Ravi.
"Oh I had no idea until now."
"I-im sorry I didn't tell you guys. I just.. its all so new and.."
"Are you happy?" Bobby asked. Buck sighed and smiled.
"Yeah. Yeah I am."
"Then that's all that matters, kid." Bobby gave him a fatherly hand on the shoulder, and Buck immediately felt all his fear and apprehension melt away.
He was happy. Finally.
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xzhdjsj · 2 days
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Goodbye or See You Soon?
Fran x Reader
Fran has a favour to return, leaving you behind temporarily.
(Fran as in the female vampire from Xanthus' story!)
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"You know I love you, right?"
"What?"
"I said I love you"
"Yeah but why are you saying it like that?"
The chilly wind tousled strands of hair into your eyes as you stared at her smiling face suspiciously.
This isn't the first time Fran's told you she loves you. In fact, she says it often but never expects to hear a response. She's fully aware of how much you struggle to articulate your own feelings into words, and she knows it may take you a long time before you would finally say them back to her. It didn’t matter to Fran anyways because she knows you adore her, your actions spoke volumes of the concept you struggle with. Besides, Fran was patient, she's confident she'd hear it someday in the future.
But something about that night was different, it felt like she wanted to hear you say it back, like she longed for a reciprocation of those three simple words. That night, the tone of her voice carried an unfamiliar wistfulness that you cannot forget.
You'd stopped walking for a moment to clear your vision, but before your own hands could reach your face, you felt gentle fingers tuck the strands of hair behind your ears. They stilled on your cheek, lingering adoringly for a moment.
You reached up to hold them, pressing your palm against the back of her hand as your eyes searched for hers.
They weren't quite as bright as you remember, not brimming with excitement to see you as they usually are. It was very obvious something was bothering her. Fran acts differently when she's hiding something from you, but this was a complete exaggeration of that behaviour.
"Fran? Are you okay?"
"I... heh I'm sorry"
She retracted her hands from yours, shoving them into the pockets of her puffy jacket. Her lips curled into a smile, but her eyes were still. She was tense, and though she tried to hide it, her body betrayed her, her eyes betrayed her. She knew, too. She knew that you could tell something wasn't right, but the most she could bring herself to do was look away from your expecting gaze.
"Yeah"
"Are you sure hun?"
You wrap your hand around her bicep, squeezing gently- to comfort her? reassure her?- to do something, anything to make her feel better.
She sighed, deeply, as if all her defences collapsed to the ground with the innocence of your voice, and she's left bare and vulnerable.
"God, I wanted to see you again, so bad. But I didn't want to -"
"You know I don't care how you come back to me. As long as you're alive and unharmed. As long as you come back to me always."
She gave you a weak smile and took your hand in hers, "For someone who's horrible at expressing their feelings, you sure have a way with words."
You squeezed her hand, smiling back to her, "Hey Fran, I have an idea."
"Yeah? What is it?"
"Not telling. You'll just have to follow me." You grinned at her, wide and playful, then turned to look ahead.
Before she could refuse, you were dragging her behind you, running against the wind as Fran yelled apologies to the bodies you barely missed crashing into. It was the quickest approach you could think of to lighten her spirits, and it worked.
By the time you arrived at your destination, she was laughing heartily and pulling you close to kiss you, dispelling the residual rush that surged through your veins.
"You do know you almost knocked over a really really old guy back there, right?"
"I said sorry" You pouted and shrugged.
Fran closed her eyes, shaking her head at your antics, before catching your body in her embrace again, this time much tighter. You struggled in her arms, giggling and whining at her to let you go. But she doesn't, she kept her hand secured around your waist with her face buried into your neck.
"Okay not fair! You know that tickles Fran!" You giggled, pushing gently at her chest.
Eventually, you settled into a bench, hip to hip with her, nestled in her arms despite not needing the warmth.
"You remember this place?" You asked, resting your head onto her shoulder.
"Like it was yesterday." She replied, mimicking your action and dropping her head against yours. "I'd never seen someone quite as gorgeous, and now I have them all to myself forever."
You smiled at her words, but the underlying anxiety still nibbles at your mind.
"Fran?"
"Yes love?"
"Love? That's new."
"Sorry, heard someone say it and I thought of you. Continue, please." She said and her body shifted under you.
"I'm just worried about you. I know you said you're okay but I just can't stop myself from worrying still." You sighed.
"You're always so perceptive of my feelings, it's adorable." She kissed your forehead before continuing, "I needed to talk to you, I just didn't want to spoil the mood earlier."
You lifted your head from her shoulder and pivoted your body to face her. "What is it my love?" You parrot her words.
"You remember Xanthus, right?" She asked, and you nodded. "Well, he has a plan to target the Trimedians and I offered to help."
"Fran." You said firmly, "This is dangerous. You could- you could get really hurt!"
"I know that, I know it well, but I owe him this." She took your hands in hers, intertwining your fingers. "After what I did, it's only fair I help them. If someone had tried to kill you, I wouldn’t have spared a chance for you to ask to spare them. The fact that I'm still here is thanks to his partner, and I can never forget that."
Your eyes softened at her words and you sighed, "I understand." You mumbled. "If this is what you must do, then I'll wait for you. I'll wait for you to come back to me again, like I always do."
"And I'll come back to you, like I always do." One of her hands left yours to guide your face closer to hers. To guide your lips to hers again.
Despite having to say goodbye to the love of your life, it was peaceful that night, but how long has it been since them? Quite a few days at least.
Now, you're back here again, sitting amongst the trees, on the bench you'd met Fran many years ago, only this time you're alone. There's nobody to lean over and touch, no fingers to intertwine with your own. Just you, under the stars.
"Fran," you whisper to the night sky, "I'm sorry for not telling you this sooner, but I love you. I love you more than I could ever express."
Your heart aches at the thought that she may never get to hear you say it, and you'll never get to see her eyes light up with joy.
"Please, whatever god there is, bring her back home to me safe. I beg."
The tears flow freely down your face. It's the only warmth you feel against the cool winds of the night.
-
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i-yap · 2 days
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Jason todd x Reader- Depressive episode
thanks everyone for the compliments and encouraging words in my inbox....i really appreciate it.
The lights were dimmed, everything scattered and messy, just a small lamp on the otherside of the room and the curtains left open. Jason would have panicked..if not for the lump in the blacket and deep slow breathing from his side of the bed. His heart dropped as he realized.
Slowly approaching your side, his boots heavy as he approached you to make sure you were aware of his presence. Crouching down and pulling the blanket below your face he said softly "Hey sweetheart, I think you're on my side"
You wordlessly try to roll away to "your side" but he stops you. "I was kidding y/n, you know that baby"
"im sorry" you say quietly. Tears already forming in your eyes waiting to join the already present tear stains down your cheeks. "hey hey why are you apologizing? " Jason strokes your hair, noticing how tangled they've gotten. You must have been pulling at them.
"Cuz I smell, and you just came back from a mission and the house is a mess. A-and I'm a m-mess" you hiccup as the tears finally escape your eyes.
"None of that now y/n, you know I don't care about any of that stuff. I old care about you Let me help. "
"Nothing can help right now"
"Not even as bath? ill be in it too"
"i dont want to get up"
"Ill carry you "
You wordlessly nod before burrowing your face in the remanent smell of jason still lingering in his pillows while jason starts a bath, lights a few candles and a bath salt. Carrying you to the bathtub. je undresses while you feel something other than the suffocating sheets and your own misery. Settling himself behind you, he gently presses down on your shoulders. "Can you tell me what happened? or not if you don't want", His kind tone and affection was enough for the tear dam to break again. 'such big tears, cmon no y/n, why such big ones hm? you'll give the gotham rain a run for its money" you giggle out a chocked sob.
Jason understands, while his misery comes out in fits of anger yours was a silent killer. He understands , he understands well. And you know he is there, sitting silently behind you , holding you for as long as you need- for as long as he can.
(Im going through an absolutely horrible depressive episode. And its killing me. Writing this was tough on its own but its the first productive thing I've done in days. this was a small self indulgence. Its so funny- I'm a psychology student and I've dedicated my life helping those with mental health issues. After all the charity and the programs and shifts and the hospitals- who would've thought id be here, needing another version of me to come help me out of this. Ill get through it but I'm rlly grateful for all you who have been supporting me through this. Promise it wont last longer than a week. love ya)
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