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#and several other regular fics
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*gripping the google docs for my fics* why won't you write yourself you f u ck
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allthegothihopgirls · 1 month
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in the trenches rn
i'm 2 days into reading a 160k word fic and i'm nearing the end but tbh the good part is over and now i'm just waging through.
not in a bad way though the fic is like REALLY good. it's just, the part of the plot i really liked is over.
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snippyschnapps · 1 year
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to the people who occasionally leave kudos and bookmarks on of ratty shirts and beasts (and such and so forth) on ao3 in the year 2022: i love you, you make my day. also i am very sorry for not updating it the characters have just changed a lot since then and even though it’s always been an au of an original work i’ve still kind of gotten out of the swing of writing them.
i’ve considered that maybe one day I’ll either rewrite it with the new characterisations but idk. OR potentially i might just change the canon of the thing its based on (weirdward/yesternight stuff involving my character sam) to fit a new version of ratty shirts cause i mean… honestly who was i kidding the “eldritch monster is employee at local co-op in small town or some shit” was always gonna be a more engaging plot than any other possible thing i could do with sam, my god. i love to see this bitch getting into Situations (and apparently you guys do as well)
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themidnightcrimson · 1 month
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skirt ࿏ wm
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summary: in which wanda gets a little too handsy during a small party.
words: 4.5k
warnings: top!wanda, fingering (r receiving), semi-public sex, severely gay ogling, reader being a fuckin simp
this fic is for 18+ only. minors dni.
masterlist.
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Steve had unfortunately complained to Tony that the parties he always held in his huge, modern, techno mansion were not intimate enough. Tony, always ready to take complaints from Steve with a cheeky attitude, passed the message along to Pepper who decided to truly make something cozier for everyone.
Tony’s parties were pretty much bi-weekly at this point, every other Friday night. The team almost always showed up in entirety, and the regularity of it was becoming sentimental to some of you. Even Tony was starting to plan them: “You guys gotta try this whiskey. I’ll bring it next Friday” or “I swear, Cap, I’m gonna put you in a suit on Friday and shoot you up to Mars.” It was cute.
Tonight, instead of drinking and playing poker around Tony’s in-house bar room, Pepper had set up something beautiful outside. You’d arrived at the party with Nat, stepping through the back patio of Tony’ mansion and seeing something set up in his backyard. Tied between two trees was a large white screen, and several yards in front of it was a projector mounted onto the roof of the patio, pointed right towards the screen.
In front of the screen, on the lush, freshly-trimmed grass yard, was a whole bunch of pillowy chairs with blankets cast over them, set up like little cots. To the side of the arena was a little hot dog stand that also had a big red and golden popcorn machine currently popping popcorn attached to its hip, as well as a large futuristic-looking cooler full of ice and bottled drinks. There was even an attachment on the front of the hot dog stand with an array of candy bars.
Strung above the entire arena were strings of fairy lights going in every direction, tied between trees and the railing of the patio porch. The sun hadn’t quite set yet, but they were already turned on, providing cute little lights above the cozy scene. It was the homiest thing you’d ever seen at Tony’s home.
“My god,” Nat remarked as she looked around, looking as shocked as you. “It looks like Tony’s planning on proposing to all of us at the same time tonight.”
“I would say yes,” Banner said, coming up beside you and gawking up at the lights. He ran down the steps of the patio and towards one of the fluffy chairs made of pillow, throwing himself down on it and squishing it to the ground. You could hear his sigh of comfort from the patio.
“Do you guys like it?” Pepper asked, coming out of the house. “There’s more food and snacks inside if you guys want anything that’s not out there.”
“I feel like I’m experiencing my first American sleepover,” Nat said, turning to Pepper. “It’s great, really!”
It was cute seeing Nat get so excited like that. Steve showed up behind Pepper and had the same reaction as everyone else, even tearing up a little bit. When Tony reluctantly entered the patio, Steve gave him a slap on the shoulder. “This is really great, Tony. Really great.”
Tony tightly smiled and quickly went back into the house to avoid any more sentiment.
Since the few of you were the first to arrive, you all stayed on the porch and made conversation while waiting for everyone else to show up. It was a chilly spring night, the wind picking up and every once in a while catching the black skirt you were wearing. It was that annoying time of year, of course, where you would have been sweating during the day but now you were shivering at night. You wished you had worn pants instead of a skirt. You didn’t know you’d be thanking yourself later for the opposite.
You had been discreetly waiting for someone the entire time. As more people lingered through the back door into the backyard, you nervously glanced at each figure and hoped it’d be the one you wanted it to be, but it never was.
And then you knew. You didn’t see her, or hear her name, or any other evidence that she was there other than the fact that the pit in your stomach grew and there was a tingling sensation across your nerve endings. The witch always had that affect on you. You didn’t know if it was a spell or something, or maybe you were just acting like a crush-stricken schoolgirl, but you had a habit of always knowing when Wanda entered a room.
Surely enough, through the tinted windows lining the back porch, you could see a flash of red hair making its way towards the back door, that smile you had memorized greeting people as she stepped between them. A shiver crawled its way up your lower spine as the door opened and that face stepped through, the one you’ve been dreaming about, the one that haunts you, the one that twists your stomach into knots when you see it because it makes you think of all the times you’ve touched yourself with that face in mind.
Wanda stepped onto the porch, her hair in wavy locks down her shoulders. She was wearing a soft, light pink sweater that probably looked like off-white to everyone else in the dusk light, but you paid enough attention to know it was pink. It matched the gentle pink in her cheeks, and in her lips…
You and Wanda’s…”situation” was only just blossoming. After months and months of tense friendship and subtle flirting, you’d finally broken the ice when you’d shared a drunken makeout session at one of the parties. You found Wanda to be much bolder than you’d expected her to be, but it invigorated you so. She knew how to keep you on the edge but give you enough to keep you satisfied. She hadn’t fucked you yet, though she’s gotten close. You’ve felt her mouth, and her thigh, but she hadn’t touched you with her hands yet. Her hands.
It was embarrassing when Nat had to snap you out of it. You’d been staring at Wanda since she’d entered the backyard space and got caught up in a conversation with someone else on her way to greet you. You weren’t even sure if she’d seen you yet, but with how sly the witch was, you were sure she was fully aware of everything.
“Hey, you’ve got a little drool there,” Nat said, motioning to her own chin while looking at yours. You blushed and rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath and turning your back on Wanda. Even though she still hadn’t looked at you, you swore you could feel her eyes burning into your back.
“Shut up,” you whispered, crossing your arms and shivering slightly in the cold.
Like clockwork, you suddenly felt a warm arm wrap itself around your shoulders. God, you even recognized her touch now.
Looking up, you saw Wanda appear beside you, her arm slung over your shoulder and pulling you into her gently. You felt the softness of her sweater and her hair against your arm as you were overcome with her cologne. It was sweet but deep, and it made you melt every time you smelled it because it reminded you of all your moments with her.
Wanda smiled down at you, and you half-expected her to lean down for a kiss, but she didn’t. You weren’t public yet, though Nat knew the extent of it, and everyone else had just assumed. They all thought that if you weren’t fucking, it was at least obvious that Wanda wanted to, and no one would dare get in the way of that. This was all without your knowledge, of course, because you were innocent and naïve and thought that no one had any clue about it except for Nat. That was one thing that Wanda liked about you.
“Hey there,” Wanda smoothly said in almost a whisper. Every time you get close to her for the first time, you feel like you’re seeing her for the first time all over again. Her sparkling green eyes, soft lips turned in a self-assured smile, structured cheekbones, her cute little nose. It all made you swoon like a schoolgirl.
“Hi,” you squeaked, feeling your face get hot all over.
Wanda gave a breathy chuckle, obviously picking up on your little squeak. She gave a little space between you for a moment to let her eyes rake down over your figure. They landed at your hips, and her smile faded, turning almost crooked for a moment before she licked her lips and pursed them. “Hmmmm,” she hummed, pulling you into her again, a little tighter now. “You look so fucking good,” she hissed, leaning down towards your ear. You felt her breath fan against your ear, and then her lips grazed it, before she turned away, stiffening as if trying to hold something in. You watched her jaw flex, the muscles straining in her swan neck as she inhaled deeply.
You weren’t sure what exactly was going through the witch’s mind, but your body was burning all over. It almost pained you how you always had such a physical reaction to Wanda.
Wanda did not let go of you. Even as she lingered around the patio, even as people came up and made conversation, she kept you under her arm like her own pet bunny. You felt safe like that, tucked into Wanda, letting her lead the conversations while you just leaned against her soft sweater and inhaled her sweet perfume. The duality of Wanda’s gentle physique but domineering nature made your head dizzy.
Wanda was like a bee to honey to you for the entire time that you and everyone else waited for the party’s population to be dense enough to start a movie on the large projector screen. Finally, once the sun had set and only left an orange streak at the bottom of the sky, Tony came back out onto the patio and, fully equipped in his suit, stuck his hands out to the side and levitated up towards the projector. Halting mid-air, the face of the suit flipped away to reveal Tony’s face.
“Greetings and welcome to the lamest party Tony Stark has ever thrown,” Tony announced, earning several laughs throughout the small crowd of people before flipping the projector on and flying away.
Light illuminated onto the screen, and an old black-and-white Hollywood movie began playing on the screen. People made their way over to the little cots set out on the lawn, while some stayed on the patio pretending to be the adult part of the crowd.
“Want some snacks?” Wanda whispered in your ear, to which you gave a dumb nod, too focused on the way her hand slid down to your waist and gripped it.
Wanda led you over the little hot dog stand that shone like a beacon in the darkening lawn, apart from the light from the movie. You were about to tell Wanda that you wanted popcorn and Skittles, but she somehow beat you to it. “A bag of popcorn and some Skittles,” she told the guy behind the stand. Nodding, he began to load up a bag of buttery popcorn as you looked up at Wanda in confusion to how she knew what you wanted.
Mind-reading can be useful in many ways, kitten.
You thought Wanda had spoken, since you had heard her voice, but her lips didn’t even move and her voice sounded like it was behind you. Your eyes widened in realization that Wanda was using mind-reading on you for the first time—though it actually was about the hundredth time that she’d pried in on your cerebral. It was the telepathic communication that was happening for the first time, but she thought your confusion on the terms was cute.
“Thanks,” Wanda told the guy as he handed you the warm bag of popcorn. She took a bag of Skittles and two bottles of soda and placed her hand on your lower back, her warm palm ushering you towards a cot in front of the screen.
She decided to choose one a little off to the side, spaced out more from any others. It was a double, basically a large pillow in the shape of a chair that could hold two people.
“This is so fun!” you exclaimed, hopping down on the cot and sighing at how soft it was, understanding now why Banner was so relaxed when he had jumped onto one. There was even a little basket beside the chair that held a large, fluffy blanket folded up. Pepper had truly gone all out.
Wanda plopped down beside you, her warm body instantly melting into yours as her weight into the pillowy chair dipped you down closer to her. The redistribution of weight had moved you in a way that your skirt hiked up your legs.
Wanda’s eyes flickered to your skirt, her pupils swarming. You blushed and pulled your skirt down to cover yourself, discreetly watching Wanda blink and force herself to look away. She leaned back in the chair, snaking her arm behind you and curling it around your waist, which only deepened the blush on your cheeks.
Reaching towards your lap, Wanda took a piece of popcorn from the bag you held between your legs and popped it into her mouth. You took a piece and moved it towards your mouth, but suddenly her hand stopped you.
“Nuh uh,” she said quietly, taking the popcorn from between your fingers. “Let me do it.”
You froze, staring at her face that was so close. It was illuminated by the projection on the screen, her green eyes darker than usual.
“Open your mouth,” she whispered, her eyes flickering down to your lips. There was a hunger in her eyes as she watched you hesitate before slowly opening your lips, your heart beating twice faster in your chest. Wanda brought the popcorn to your mouth, letting your tongue take it. You were surprised when, as you felt the texture of the popcorn on your tongue and the butter flooded your taste buds, the tips of Wanda’s fingers lingered in your mouth. As you attempted to close your lips, they only closed around her fingers, tasting the extra salt left behind on them. Your face grew red and hot as you watched Wanda smirk, pushing her fingers in just a miniscule bit further, her own lips parting in infatuation as she watched your lips suction around her fingers.
“Good girl,” she whispered, slowly dragging her fingers out of your mouth.
As if nothing happened, as if you weren’t sitting there blushing and sweating and feeling the space between your legs get warm, she went back to simply eating the popcorn and staring up at the screen.
Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to stop staring at this blasted woman who just teased you so easily and tried to focus on the movie.
Wanda’s handsy-ness wasn’t too extreme during the first half of the movie. It was only her arm around your waist, her hand rubbing your back sensually, her fingers softly combing through your hair and pulling on it hard once or twice just to get a squeak out of you, to which she pressed a discreet kiss to your neck. It was like she was just playing with you. It was like she was just playing with her food.
It wasn’t until halfway through the movie, when there was no sight of any sunlight in the dark night sky, that Wanda strengthened her moves on you.
Under the pretty fairy lights, as everyone else started to calm down and really settle into the movie, a chilly night breeze sewed itself through the air. It flittered over your exposed legs, causing you to shiver. Wanda, who’d been trying not to ogle your thighs all night, couldn’t help but see the goosebumps on your tender skin.
“You cold?” she asked in a soft, sweet tone. When you nodded, she reached over to the basket and brought out the large, thick blanket, draping it over the both of your laps. The warm, soft blanket was such a relief to your cold legs, and with Wanda’s body also available to you as a heater, you felt so cozy and safe.
Then Wanda’s hand reached under the blanket and rested on your thigh, her palm curving around it. The action made you stiffen, your skin growing exponentially warmer where her hand touched. The intimacy of the action sent shimmers through you, and you tried to beat back the little smile on your face.
Wanda, on the other hand, was trying not to smirk. She was more purposeful than you gave her credit for, but again, your naivety was what fueled her to see just how much she could get away with.
You were trying your hardest to ignore her hand on your thigh until it suddenly shifted upwards, pushing your skirt up with it. You gasped quietly. Her hand was all the way up your thigh now, gripping your flesh firmly. Her fingers were wrapped into the inner most tender part of your thigh, pressing into the soft skin there.
The heat between your legs amplified with how close Wanda was to it. You couldn’t help but nervously glance around, afraid that somehow someone had seen her hand grab your thigh under the thick blankets. Luckily, no one was looking. The closest person to you was Nat, but she was watching the film with her head tilted and arms crossed, obviously trying to analyze it like she did with most films.
“Wanda,” you whispered, glancing up at her to see that she was already staring at you darkly.
“What, princess?” she asked innocently.
The name struck you like a bullet of white hot fire in the pit of your stomach. She watched you seriously, a smirk twitching the corners of her lips, as she tightened her grip on your thigh. It stung a little, her fingertips digging so hard into that sensitive inner flesh of your thigh, that you almost squeaked.
“If you want to make noises for me, then do it, babygirl,” she lilted, and you almost gasped when her hand slipped fully under your skirt. You squirmed a little, but she looked at you threateningly. “Don’t move.”
Your breathing grew heavy as you looked around again, feeling that for sure someone was looking this time. No one was.
No one will see, detka.
Wanda’s voice was in your head again. You sharply turned to look at her, but she was staring at the screen now.
Suddenly, you felt something under the covers spreading your thighs open. You hadn’t even realized you’d been squeezing them together, but as you looked down at the blanket, you saw a hint of red glaring through it as your legs spread themselves wide open. She was using magic to open you up for her. Out of impulse, you tried to slam them shut, but her magic held you there, the red glare dissipating so as to not draw attention to what was happening beneath the blanket.
Be still.
You bit your lip as you felt Wanda’s hand cup you under your skirt, her palm pressing into your fabric-covered core. Your breath quivered out of both nervousness and pleasure when she found your clit through your panties and slowly rubbed it.
I can feel how wet you are through your panties, princess. Her voice was even husky in your head.
You tried to keep still as Wanda rubbed your sensitive nub, looking around again to see that still no one was looking at you. But the fact that anyone could look over at the wrong moment, see part of Wanda’s arm stretched towards your lap under the blanket, seeing shapes inappropriately moving under the fabric, instilled a sense of fear into you that seemed to propel your desire.
Good girl, just keep being still for me. I know how bad you’ve been wanting this. You’ve dreamed so much of my fingers.
God, how did she know? Had she been spying on you?
Her fingers dipped down your fabric-covered slit, tickling there for a moment and feeling the wet spot forming on your panties. You were soaking by now, you could feel it, and it only got worse when Wanda started to push your panties to the side.
You started to open your mouth to tell her no, that she shouldn’t do that in front of everyone at a party, that anyone could look over and see and that it’d be so embarrassing, but her voice was quick to reprimand you.
So what if someone sees? I’ll let anyone know that you’re all mine.
With that, her fingers successfully slipped under the thin, stretchy fabric of your panties and met your soaking cunt. You heard Wanda let out a tense breath as she seeped her fingers through your sopping folds, her jaw flexing again.
You’re so fucking wet, babygirl. Her voice growled within your head, dizzying you.
You glanced around nervously, almost thinking someone was looking at you, but finding that no one was still. You felt so nervous about it, so paranoid, but your feverishness was mostly just from Wanda’s fingers rubbing your bare clit now, moving your wetness all around.
I’ve been wanting to feel your pretty cunt for so long. You just had to wear this slutty little skirt tonight, hmm?
Heat burned throughout you as Wanda’s fingers moved towards your entrance, circling it. You stiffened a little, not knowing exactly what to expect from her. You had to force yourself to not gyrate against her hand, to not turn to her and beg for her to just do it, to not moan out loud. It was especially hard not to do the last thing when Wanda’s fingers thrusted inside you.
“Oh—” you started, until Wanda’s magic snapped your mouth shut. Wanda went completely still, freezing completely. You took a blushing, nervous glance around and nearly died when your eyes made contact with Nat’s eyes.
You froze like a deer in headlights. Nat was staring at you while Wanda’s fingers were inside you for the first time. You were looking her in the eye while your walls clenched around Wanda. You wanted to set yourself on fire.
Fortunately, Nat only gave a casual little head nod and a smile and then turned back to the movie. You knew Nat well enough to know that she wasn’t just pretending that she didn’t see anything. Luckily for you, she really had not noticed anything unusual other than your usual awkwardness around Wanda.
Close call, princess. You almost got found out for being a slut for me.
Taking a shaky breath, your hand crawled around until it found Wanda’s knee under the blanket and gripped it for dear life as she started thrusting her fingers inside you. You tried not to whine at the stretch—it’d been a while for you.
You’re so fucking tight, baby. Wanda’s voice was breathy in your head.
You threw your head back a little as Wanda’s fingers pumped in and out of you, and you could even hear the faint wet sounds coming from under the blanket. It made you feel so dirty, getting fingered like that in front of everyone, and being so wet for it, too.
I knew you were such a slut for me. What if I rip the blanket off right now, hmm? Expose you for spreading your legs for me even in public like a whore?
Gritting your teeth together, you felt Wanda’s two fingers hitting a sweet spot inside you. It was so hard to not buck your hips, to not squirm or moan or do anything but etch claw marks into Wanda’s knee.
And then you felt a more noticeable stretch. Squeezing your eyes shut, you felt Wanda force a third finger into you. This time you couldn’t help it. You threw your head to the side and buried it in Wanda’s chest, letting out a mix between a quiet moan and a sigh that luckily was muffled by Wanda’s sweater. Keeping as still as possible, you inhaled Wanda’s perfume and scratched the fuck out of her knee as she pumped three fingers inside your cunt at an agonizingly slow speed. You knew she would’ve fucked you a lot harder if it weren’t for the sake of being discreet.
“Wanda,” you murmured into her chest, feeling the valley of her breasts from beneath her sweater cushioning your face. “Wanda, I’m close.”
Her fingers were hitting so deep inside you. They were so long, and she was curling them, and she was hitting your sweet spot deep inside, and you could feel your juices dripping down yourself.
Hold it. She commanded.
You didn’t even realize it, but you clamped your teeth around a chunk of her sweater, biting down hard on the thick cable-knit fabric as the woman’s fingers plundered you at a steady pace. You didn’t even know if anyone was looking at you now, and you didn’t even care because your body was starting to tremble as you struggled to not cum all over her fingers.
Finally, when you begged again, she acquiesced with Cum for me, princess.
It took all of your power to not moan out loud as you orgasmed with Wanda’s fingers lodged deep inside you, your walls spasming around them and your hips trembling. She nuzzled her nose against the top of your head and hissed when you bit down on her sweater again and accidentally bit into her breast. She held you still with her spare arm, her fingers deep in you, as you came down from the blinding high.
“That’s it,” she whispered into your hair. “Good girl, just breathe.” You were breathing very hard to make up for not being able to moan. “You were such a good, quiet girl for me, angel.” The praise landed over you like soft kisses until you realized she was also pressing soft kisses to the top of your head.
It didn’t help that, when you had finally calmed down and Wanda pulled her shiny fingers out of you, she popped them into her mouth and sucked off all of your cum. You blushed and dug your face into her chest again, this time purposefully biting her breast which made her hiss again and then giggle evilly.
Luckily, no one had seen you get fingered by Wanda, at least not to your knowledge. Nothing had ever come out of it, at least, except that Tony spread a rumor that you had peed yourself during the party because when you stood up from the chair at the end of the night, there was a wet spot right under where you had been sitting.
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zwhoreo · 4 months
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Luffy accidentally eating/taking aphrodisiac and reader has to deal with the results.
HAPPY 2024!!! :D here’s my longest fic ever as a celebration
can’t come down - aphrodisiac luffy x f!reader
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smut with some angst
summary: thinking it was regular chocolate, you accidentally give luffy several doses of a potent aphrodisiac. now he needs you to take care of him
contains: accidental intoxication, luffy in discomfort/distress, tears, some uncomfortable sex, overstimulation, luffy and zoro in a brief sexual situation
words: 4.8k
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It’s all your fault. You’ve hurt him, the little angel. A pleasant but burning pain, he’s attached to you, drooling on your neck and he’s been going for hours and he’s rubbing inside you ceaselessly, you’re dripping with him. He’s whimpering, this sweet boy. His eyes are blown out and hazy and he won’t stop just gazing at you, open-mouthed whimpers while he rubs inside you so deep and rough that god, you can feel it blooming and aching in your stomach, squeezed as you breathe so with every breath he moans in frustration and desire. Luffy just wanted chocolate, it’s all your fault.
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This town is seedy and dark. You like it because you can’t find these sorts of shops in regular port towns, places selling hallucinogens and fake medicine and alcohol for 100 berries a bottle. The sex shops don’t even board up their windows, that’s why you and Nami thought why not, let’s explore.
It’s not a serious shopping trip, more of a chance to laugh, tease each other, indulge in curiosity. This store’s set into the ground, beneath a metal stairway, it’s starting to rain so you two run for cover in the most interesting place.
The sex shop, which is very dim, all lantern light, is filled with things neither of you had ever seen before or thought to consider. The salesman is pushy, coming from behind the counter to try to sell you things you certainly hadn’t come there for. You laugh and walk around and whisper to each other. And even though you’re in a loving relationship these aren’t things you’ve thought to consider. Luffy wouldn’t like any of this. You would never do something to hurt or confuse him, not when you’re both vulnerable like that. But these low prices intrigue Nami who tells you that hey, why not get some cute lingerie?
“They’ve got a whole wall of it!” She points to the colorful selection of lace and silk and you do admit, it’s beautiful. It’s not something Luffy would care about really but you’d feel pretty in it, maybe. They’ve even got these cute little translucent night dresses that look so comfortable.
So you approach the salesman with your arms full of lingerie and he looks eager to be selling to two beautiful women. He keeps talking about deals and discounts, and with a little wink he throws in a special offer, with those two night dresses you’re buying you get free aphrodisiacs. Chocolate aphrodisiacs in a little white box and he keeps telling you these things are powerful. It’s a special deal, just for you. And with laughter and encouragement from Nami you say why not. You take them, even though you don’t think you’ll ever use them.
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Weeks go by. That little box, it rests forgotten in some dresser drawer. You tend to forget things at sea.
And there’s this island, more of an ocean mountain really, with jagged cliffs for beaches but there’s a small jungle on top, there might be food or resources up there. So Sanji and Zoro are going to go, and Luffy absolutely insists on coming with them. He’s all excited about it, hyper, rolling on his feet because he’s been kept away too long on the ship and he wants to explore.
But he’s not feeling quite himself. You’ve been short on food and Luffy’s had it bad, never satisfied after meals for the last couple days. That’s why this ocean mountain is the center of your universe with only the promise of a grove of mango trees, a flock of quail. So he’s begging you, pawing at your knees as you sit in bed and begging to get something to eat before he goes exploring. You try to help, maybe there’s something in a drawer, you get to your knees and dig through your dresser while Luffy crouches behind you, leaning on your back, you feel his warmth through your shirt. He’s impatient so he bites the back of your neck, tender but sharp.
You find the little box. You have no memory, in that moment, of where you got it. There’s no label, and you later think to yourself why the hell was there no label? but of course it doesn’t cross your mind right here. It’s a little box of chocolates and before you even have a chance to remember, Luffy snatches them out of your hand and says thank you and kisses you quickly on the cheek, cupping your face, his lips wet from hunger. And he sprints away, leaving you blushing, sitting there on your floor with a little smile.
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He’s beginning to feel very warm but it’s just the sun, probably. He takes off his cardigan, carrying it on his arm. His skin glistens golden in the light, a perfectly burnt brown, but now he’s going red with flush creeping from his face to his shoulders. Luffy’s breathing is irregular now, shuddering. He looks around, the trees wavering just a bit in a cloudy haze through his eyes.
“Sanji?” And he reaches for Sanji’s hand because for some reason he craves contact right now. But Sanji pulls away, feeling the layer of sweat coating Luffy’s palm. “I feel weird.”
Sanji’s eyes wander him. He can sense there’s something not right in Luffy’s stare, something dulled and far away. Something’s wrong, what’s wrong?
“Luffy?” Sanji doesn’t know what to do in these kinds of situations. “You should go see Chopper,” he says finally with his hand on Luffy’s shoulder, gingerly.
“Don’t wanna go back yet.” Luffy’s complaining despite the discomfort. And when he sees that Sanji won’t tell him anything he wants to hear, he turns and disappears into the underbrush, maybe water will help, something cold.
So he comes to this little pond, crystal clear and dappled by sunlight, there’s frogs on the lilly pads. If he wades to his thighs he won’t pass out, probably. There isn’t much care for himself in this moment, just a need to get rid of this burning. So he strips off his jeans which helps, strangely. A breeze hits his now bare body. He feels raw in a way he never has before.
That’s a yearning need to touch himself, but no, Luffy doesn’t think about that. He’s hot so he needs to get in the water. He stumbles on the rocks because his vision isn’t quite right. He shouldn’t go to his waist but that’s where the burning is. Ankles then knees then thighs, ripples lap between his legs, he’s left panting and tingling, that water is hitting nerve endings and with every wave comes friction that makes his body twitch. He wants more.
His hand flies to his cock as if by impulse, all of a sudden. There’s no thoughts now, just need, his hand rubs himself messily even though Luffy has no control, no concept of what he’s doing or why.
God, please.
He bends over a little, head down. Beads of sweat from his brow speckling the water as his whole body shakes back and forth and his muscles spasm. Frustration fogs his mind, with every pump it only stretches his skin, not enough friction, his hand is clamped down so tight that it’s doing nothing for him. He feels like crying. He hates that he wants to go home.
But this isn’t home. And as Luffy moans unabashedly this sounds like cries from pain, which they are, a bit. So it’s Zoro who hears him and without a second thought he’s tearing through the underbrush, tripping over his own feet, led blindly by his worst sound in the world — Luffy crying.
He shouts his name and crashes through the trees, he’s in the clearing and looking around desperately but what he sees makes him yell again. There’s Luffy, the love of Zoro’s life, completely naked and wading in the water of that crystal clear pond and moving sporadically as he rubs his cock, so painfully rock hard, over and over in this animalistic desperation as he cries and whimpers. He doesn’t know where he is or who’s around him and he doesn’t see Zoro.
Until he’s shoved from the side, a powerful push that sends him tumbling into the water, cruel cold water that sucks him in and starts a familiar panic within his heart that makes him forget for a moment about that burning inside him.
“WHAT THE FUCK, LUFFY?!” Zoro pulls him by his hair, shaking him, throwing him on the rocks and looking at Luffy with these stricken eyes, unable to comprehend what he’s seeing. His composure in that moment is shattered, his fists are clenched.
They’ve seen each other naked so many times. They’ve bathed and held and carried each other with nothing between their skin, it’s just how it happens sometimes when you’re that close. But this intimacy, this state Luffy’s in, it’s like nothing Zoro was prepared to see or could even really imagine out of Luffy. Something is horribly wrong.
“Zoro…” and Luffy’s taken up in his arms because no disgust or awkwardness comes before helping a friend who’s hurting. “I feel… I dunno… what’s- …”
Luffy’s voice is so slurred, his body is tense and so solid but yet somehow he’s still melting. Zoro’s finding it hard to look at him, do anything other than just sit there and hold him, uncomfortable at how he can feel that heat from between Luffy’s legs radiating and blooming condensation on Zoro’s skin. He has absolutely no idea how to even begin to approach this situation. So he’s rough and sloppy as he dresses his friend, his cardigan’s on and his sandals are on and his hat has been slammed over his eyes. But Zoro, teeth gritted, has to shove Luffy’s cock in his jeans himself because this boy is useless like this. He’s silently vowing to never talk or think about this moment again, how sticky his hands now feel, how Luffy moans as he’s touched and leans into Zoro and how his cock twitches with an overpowering need to fuck anything that’s close.
Zoro won’t think about this again. He just picks Luffy up and carries him away without saying a word.
______________________________
You’re just looking out the window. Unmoving sun, unmoving sea. You want to eat or go somewhere and maybe you should’ve begged and made them take you on the island.
Is it the island, or do you just miss Luffy?
But it’s not long before your door is kicked open, you jump, eyes wide, whipping around to find Zoro cradling your boyfriend, who looks sick. Fear shoots through you and closes your throat especially when you see Zoro’s eyes, vacant and upset and he looks dissociated, blank.
“Oh god, Luffy.” You run to him and your hands go to his face and just stroke his cheeks, he’s sweaty and burning up like he’s caught in a deep fever. “What happened?” Your eyes are wild and scared as you turn to Zoro.
“I don’t know what you gave him. Just… deal with it.” Zoro dumps Luffy into your arms and you stumble as he curls up into you, drooling all over your neck. And Zoro gives his shoulder one last squeeze and turns away, closing the door behind him, running off down the hall, somewhere where he can’t hear that crying anymore.
And yes, Luffy’s crying. You set him down on your bed, rubbing the back of his head and holding his hand. “Hey, hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
“Dunno what’s happening…” Luffy’s eyes are pleading and endlessly deep right now. His legs are kicking against the air and he keeps shifting around, he can’t sit still.
With his free hand he’s rubbing between his legs like he’s scratching an itch, but he doesn’t stop, your gaze follows him and oh, oh fuck. He’s got this tight, obvious hardness in his jeans. Straining so hard the zipper is shaking with tension. You’ve never seen anything like this.
Your mind is racing, this isn’t just horniness, Luffy has never been sexsick like this before.
You trace it all back and nothing was wrong when he left. Just bright eyed innocence, affection, nothing strange. And suddenly it hits you, that box, those chocolates.
Oh god. Oh my god.
You fed him an aphrodisiac. An aphrodisiac from a sketchy shop in an old-town basement, a powerful drug, just one would keep you up a whole night.
And you let Luffy eat them all.
“Lu… god, I’m sorry,” is all you can say as he crawls into your lap and breathes on your face. You take off his hat and ruffle his hair. How can you even explain this to him? He’s not going to understand. “I’m so sorry. This is my fault, I gave you an aphrodisiac by mistake.” You’re choked up. You hurt him.
“…” Luffy’s mouth is hanging open, drool coating his chin, dazed, so confused. “Hm?” His voice is even gravelier than normal.
“Those weren’t normal chocolates. They make your body… ready for sex? It’s supposed to be a fun thing. B- but I forgot they weren’t just normal chocolates! God, I’m so sorry.” You’re breaking down, you’re cuddling with him now, head on his shoulder.
“Oh.” You can’t really tell how much he understands. And his voice is quiet when he asks, “when’s it gonna go ‘way?”
“…I don’t know. I’m gonna try to help, ok? Let’s fuck for a few hours and get it out. It’s gonna be ok, Lu.”
His pupils expand when you say this, his eyes going from brown to deep black. He wants that so, so bad. He’s just sort of figuring that out now. “Heh, yeah.” He squirms in your lap, cock so hard you can feel his zipper sliding down on its own, as his breath gets heavier, this desperate ball of energy spasming in your arms.
Then he smiles. And he attacks.
He flips you onto your back and groans, hips thrusting into yours as his lips find your mouth, saliva leaking past your lips, you swallow as they part. You’re wearing these soft cotton shorts and you feel his aching cock smacking the fabric as it pushes and strains to break free from his pants with every motion. He moans so loud you know everyone can hear. Now he’s drooling again, spitting on your face because he’s lost control of his jaw, you’re winded but you grab his face and kiss him, he didn’t even know he needed this.
He falls on you now. He’s all splayed out and whining and just kissing you as if he’s been challenged, teeth and tongue working through every part of your mouth. He’s loud when he kisses, and now every breath is a groan of want.
“Undress me…” you whisper to him, grabbing the back of his neck, he seems like he’ll explode if he keeps on like this without being deep inside you.
With a strangled “Mh,” Luffy’s fingernails scrape your skin in a desperate attempt to pull off your dress. He’s ripping cloth, damn, you can hear him ripping cloth. Nothing you can do now.
But you can tell as your skin shines bare and he tears his own clothes from his body, as his sweat drenches you and that heat like a tropical hurricane all over but especially where it pools between his legs and oh you’d be scared if you looked there now, you can tell he’s about to just go in you with no thought or reason and harder than he’s ever gone before. So — and you hate to do this — you grab his shoulders. You stare him in the eyes.
“Luffy. Listen to me.”
your eyes reach his soul, he tries to look at you with anything close to coherence, he wants to follow your lead, he doesn’t understand anything right now. But there’s a hailstorm inside his mind. But he tries to listen.
“Don’t be too rough, please, can you promise?” Your voice is shaky because you’re not sure what he’s about to do. Luffy would never intentionally hurt you but he’s powerful, his body is strange, he works in ways neither of you understand. He has the power to really, really damage you and the carelessness to not see it happening. So you beg him with your eyes.
“I promise,” he gasps softly, one hand curling behind your neck, and he presses his face against your cheek, trying to harden his eyes in the gentle seriousness of the moment. Luffy is incapable of feeling sadism towards you of any kind and he’s at war with his body and the energy bursting within him right now. But he promises.
You smile and your feet rest on his hips and thighs, you feel him sizzling beneath your touch. The surface of his skin wavers before your eyes from the heat, you understand now the idea of mirages, he looks covered in amber rain even as his skin burns beneath your hands.
“Slow,” you ask softly in his ear, making Luffy whine in hunger.
There it is. What you don’t dare look at you can feel. Swollen and throbbing it feels like a whole other animal is just clawing there beneath that rice paper skin. You can feel his heartbeat in the tip of his cock as he touches you and it speeds up thousands of times in an instant. His thighs clamp around yours and his nails are sharp and Luffy groans in your ear. He’s made of nerve endings that send him twitching writhing with every tiny movement. He needs you now.
He pushes himself in and every bit of friction sends him convulsing against you, squeezing you tighter. You can feel the struggle in his muscles to hold back but that deep, tangible yearning for relief. He’s in and you’re both gasping for air. You’re not used to the size or the heat or that artificially induced power that’s overcome his body. But you’re proud of him and you tug his hair to tell him a quiet thank you, you’re ok, he’s keeping you safe.
All your touches are too much. His hips move messily against you like he doesn’t have the capacity to understand what to do right now. But he’s just going to follow that deep primal craving so he rocks into you with all his weight, crushing you again and again, eyes closed, mouth trying to find yours.
It’s the movement but also the way you’re being held. It’s a scary heaven. He’s going deep and he’s not pulling out just throwing himself against you over and over as if there’s any more he has to go. He’s whimpering and his body is shaking in need.
But he goes faster and now this is what you’re scared of, weighted rubber moves and stretches with momentum, he’s squeezing you tighter and tighter and with each slam against your body his cock buries into you so impossibly deep as his skin stretches and snaps within you. You whine and try to steady him but Luffy’s in this cloud right now. His teeth are digging deep into your neck and he’s drooling all over you, saliva dripping down your shoulder and chest.
When he cums it’s so hot it feels like lava. There’s so much of it. That relief at the slowness, liquid soothing beaten flesh, that’s heaven as you lay beneath him, wrapped in his arms. Is it over? No, no it isn’t.
But first, while he’s stunned and unable to move, you squish his face in your hands. “Luffy,” you breathe heavily into his mouth, “be more gentle. Please. You’re gonna hurt me.”
His eyes are wide and concerned. “I hurt you?” he whimpers from his swollen, shiny lips.
“I’m ok, don’t worry, just please be more gentle.” And you smile at him. That sets something off in his heart and you feel him harden again inside you.
He grins, lifting you back so you’re pressed against his chest, on his lap. And he shoves you down against him as you squirm in his arms, he rolls your hips on his as his strong hands take total control of your body, hungry eyes gazing at you with deep, immeasurable lust. From this new position he has so much control, he’s using your body for his release in as loving a way as possible, biting at your skin. You’re left to twitch in his grasp and hug him, letting yourself bask in this incredible tsunami.
The bouncing and stretching of his cock isn’t as bad in this position although you’re still impossibly full, limp in the overwhelming motion. But that heat is becoming uncomfortable, your cheek from its rest on his shoulder is covered in layers of sweat and you feel it pooling around every point of contact. He smells like burning rubber and thick, palpable sweat. His skin begins to sear your hands and you only realize what’s happening when he starts to steam. Billowing steam clouding your room and soaking you in hot, wet air like you’re in an erupting volcano. You’re not sure which gear he’s changing to and you don’t want to find out.
“LUFFY!” You yell through your haze and hit his back and it’s so hard to talk to him like this, his moans are drowning out your cries, he’s moving faster and faster and his hair and mouth and the area between your legs is already lost in clouds of white steam. “STOP!”
He yelps and rolls off of you. Your words cut his heart. You’re both drenched and your bed is soaking, your hair in your eyes dripping down your face mixed with tears you didn’t even know were there. Luffy looks confused, disoriented, he’s still steaming but it’s slowing now, his skin is dulling to its usual hue, his hair falls back over his face. He doesn’t know what to say.
“You were changing gears,” you murmur under your breath. “Luffy, that could’ve been bad.”
“I’m- I’m sorry…” he whimpers and looks down at himself. There’s still a cloud of blinding steam circling up the shaft of his cock, blooming from his tip and shimmering in droplets rolling down the red, tight skin. He looks at you with puppy eyes, needing your arms again.
You let him crawl to you. You let him place his head under your hand to be pet and comforted. He feels terrible but he feels sick, too, a sickness only cured by the deepest and most indescribable pleasure. He’s melting in your arms, as needy as when he was given to you, eyes blurry. You let him rest his head in your lap and drink in your scent, blankets tucked between his legs for the slightest friction.
“It’ll feel better if you don’t go so fast,” you say softly, stroking his wet hair. And he nods.
“Can I have more now? I’ll be better to ya. I really promise.”
His hands feel gentler now. You let him climb your body and capture you in another deep kiss. And with your legs crossed behind his back you let him fuck you again and chase his second orgasm and he’s right, he’s better now. He’s fighting with his body but he’s better.
When he cums again it feels boiling hot. It’s shot after shot deep inside you and he tugs your hair, bites your shoulder, strokes your lower stomach before moving down to rub at your clit which is incredible because he never thinks of that. This drug is making him different, his mind is overwhelmed by sex in a way it never is. Part of you likes it a lot. It’s new. It’s fun.
It doesn’t take him long before he’s hard again and dragging his cock through your walls in deep, deliberate strokes with his tongue in your mouth. Luffy is a million miles above the earth. With every orgasm his world shakes and crumbles for an instant before it’s rebuilt again in waves of desire that send him higher, higher. He’s a million miles above the earth and even as hours slip by and his body is drained again and again, he can’t come down.
__________________________
At some point the ship has set sail again. Clouds crawl by the porthole and the ocean rocks you both but you and Luffy stay in that soaked bed and get lost in each other for so long that you don’t even know what’s real anymore. You can’t tell sensation from sensation. Neither can he but he can’t come down.
There was that perfect sweet spot where you had just swam in each other in bliss and peace. You didn’t have to stop his gear changes anymore because his body had adjusted to this new universe. And you were in tune with each other. But now, now it’s bad again.
But in a different way.
Luffy is exhausted but so desperate still. His tears have started again and he doesn’t know what to do and he can’t even move and every part of his body aches. You’ve never seen him like this during sex, he’s never weak or tired. But his body is drained.
But that drug won’t let go.
“You ok?” you’re whispering, hand on his face. You lift Luffy in your arms and place him on his back. His eyes won’t leave yours, he’s starry eyed and love struck through his tears.
“Mh…” is all you can make out. He looks down at himself, his body is dripping wet and his cock is hard again, throbbing hard in overstimulation.
Every touch seems like it’s painful to him now. But he wants more so, so bad. So you place a pillow under his head, you curl up against his body, and you rub him with your hand. Your arm gets tired but you keep going for as long as you possibly can. And sometimes Luffy will open his mouth in a silent, breathless moan, sometimes his body will convulse and his cock will twitch. But his orgasms are dry now. There’s nothing left in him.
The last one, that’s when he grabs your face. With his last bit of strength he rolls onto you and clutches your cheeks in his hands and just stares at you, not letting you move, his thighs squeezing your leg. He rubs himself off on you one last time and with a final shudder he’s done. It’s all gone. It’s over.
He collapses into your arms, too tired to breathe anymore. You expect him to just sleep right there but instead he twists onto his back, batting at your face with his palm lazily, playfully. He giggles. He looks dreamy and dazed. But happy, actually. Really happy.
“Feeling alright?” You’re worried. You’re guilty, still. You’re praying nothing hurt him or made him sick.
“Mhm. Feel good!” Luffy’s beaming as if he already forgot everything that happened. He’s glowing, chest rising and falling heavily. But he tilts his head questioningly, “you?”
“Yeah. Just sore.” To which he rolls onto his elbows, kicking his legs in the air, he holds your body, he gives your hips a soft kiss. He’s appreciative, he’s so soft now, honey skin glowing in the sleepy sunshine.
But everything is wet. Your clothes on the bed next to you, the sheets, your bodies and hair. So with your arms around his shoulders, because it will be hard to walk for a while, the two of you throw on robes and step outside. You forgot the smell of fresh sea air after that mist of sex and sweat. Luffy’s heart beats against yours, calm and healthy, steady.
He sets you down and you take him in your arms, now, laying him against the mast. You take a towel to his hair, drying him, the sun on the wind sending the dewdrops you’re made of falling away from your shoulders in rainbows. You’re glittering, you and Luffy.
You should get you both some food soon, you should give yourselves a real bath, you should go and comfort Zoro and assure him that you’re both ok. But not yet. You don’t want that yet.
You avoid the eyes of the others as they pass below. You don’t want to talk about this with anyone but Luffy right now, the boy who looks like an angel resting below you, chiseled glistening body, sunlight divinity. He opens his mouth, he kisses your fingertips as you brush hair from his cheeks.
He wants to talk to you at first but he finds that his eyes are too heavy. He just yawns instead, and bares his teeth in a smile. And he holds your hand tightly with this deep, profound gratitude. You hear him whisper, beneath his breath, that he loves you.
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thatfreshi · 8 months
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Can I request an Astarion x reader fic where the reader keeps getting hit on/cat called by random people, and she brushes it off at first but it slowly becomes evident that it really bothers her, and needs someone to intervene or comfort her?
TW - Sexual harassment, threat of kidnapping
Recommended Song: Used - SZA FT. Don Toliver
Ah taverns, such wondrous places of inebriation and sloppy people of all creeds. You and Astarion are party people, despite his introverted nature. It's more about being two people thriving in chaos, playing the other patrons like pawns to make the night exciting, flirting with a stranger to snatch their drink from the bar, and all of those morally grey things. Sure, maybe it's not ethical to steal, but it sure is fun.
It's not a secret that you are two of the most good-looking regulars, but it's also well-known that you're severely monogamous. In fact, it's gotten very close to voyeurism multiple times, which has gotten you kicked out of a couple places. You don't mind public displays of affection, even if they're a little far gone at times. All of that to say, it's hard not to notice when you arrive.
Ever since the death of Cazador, you've been living in luxury. Despite rejecting ascension, Astarion didn't mind getting his hands all over the stockpile of gold and jewels the Szarrs had at their estate. After all, you'd say he deserves it. It's almost like being nobility, adorned in gorgeous clothing amongst the common people, and yet you fit in quite well. This rich adornment came with tight-fitting gowns, gorgeous lace pieces, corsets of the highest quality. Those also didn't go unnoticed, but this night in particular some people crossed the line.
You and Astarion brought your own bottle of wine to start the evening, something to get you loose enough to put up with whatever was on tap. Occasionally you'd befriend some strangers, just for the evening. Astarion had a bad habit of making jokes about his vampirism, so you often avoided speaking to the same people again in case they'd look past his sarcasm.
This night in particular you'd come across quite the fun group, and you'd kindly shared some of your wine with them, which was a most rare occurrence. Soon enough you ran out, and Astarion offered to grab something else for the table.
"I'll be right back darling."
He has a habit of disappearing in most circles, but he's always nearby when it comes to you, especially in a place like this. Of course he's protective of you, all you truly have is each other. He'll walk to the bar and purchase a new bottle, keeping eyes, or at least ears on you the entire time he's away. Perks of loving an elf, as his heightened senses have come in handy multiple times.
"Well, that man of yours certainly is something."
A human man comments from across the table, taking a sip of your fancy wine.
"I know."
You smirk, taking a sip of your drink.
"I can't imagine he's all that in the bedroom though."
You almost spit out your wine, surprised by the audacity of this complete stranger.
"I'm sorry, but who are you?"
"Just someone who thinks you could do better."
"And what makes you say that?"
"Well, I could bed you for a change."
You almost want to throw up at how bold this man is being. Instead of dragging the conversation on any further, you grab your drink and go to stand up, trying to eye Astarion from across the room. The tavern was awfully busy, far more than usual. After realizing he was nowhere in sight, you move to make your way to the bar. Suddenly, there's a hand in your hair, yanking you back.
"Well that's no way to treat a nice young man, now is it?"
This human snarls in your ear. No one seems to notice the situation, as the crowd is bustling. It's not often you get scared of random tavern goers, but this man is far more handsy than others.
"Unhand me."
You go to grab for the knife hidden under the slit of your dress, realizing you forgot to grab it on the way out. Of course, tonight of all nights. Realizing you were trying to grab for a weapon, the human twists your wrist behind your back, making you yelp in pain.
Astarion had a hard time hearing that night because of all the overlapping conversation, but that sound was all he needed for his ears to perk up and for him to abandon his drink mission. He has a keen sense for knowing when you're in danger.
"Adorable, you think you're that strong huh?"
He goes to feel where you reached for your knife, lingering on your leg a little too long. Then, he freezes.
"Excuse me sir, could you show me where your pulse is in your neck? Make sure your blood's still pumping?"
Astarion has his dagger in hand behind your attacker. The human starts shaking, and slowly creeps his hand off of your leg and onto his neck.
"Very good. Now, if you'd like to keep that precious sustenance pumping through your veins and don't want me to pop your jaw out of it's socket, you'll unhand my wife."
He points the tip of his dagger right where the neck meets the jawline, almost drawing blood. Soon after the human unhands your hair, and scrambles away, not before Astarion leaves the tiniest knick in his neck: a reminder. You turn around and embrace the vampire, finally catching your breath. He lets you stay wrapped around his side as he guides you out of the tavern.
"Are you alright my love? Did he hurt you?"
"Just my scalp a little. I forgot my knife before we left, stupid mistake."
He lifts your chin up to make eye contact with him.
"You shouldn't have to be armed so some man won't harass you. Would I prefer you to have a weapon on you? Of course, but if you ever can't protect yourself, I will."
You start to tear up a little. It's been a while since you've been that scared, and no one seemed to notice. What would've happened if Astarion was too late?
"Look at me."
He wakes you from your thoughts.
"Let's go home. Perhaps this isn't the right place for us."
You wrap your arm around his, holding onto his sleeve. Darkvision is nice at times like this, since he can see much further than you. The walk home is quiet, and he doesn't mind. However, he is constantly eyeing nearby alleyways in case that man decides to get smart with him. When you get home you ball up on the sofa, and he makes sure the door is double-locked, something he doesn't often do considering he made the locks himself. He makes his way to the sofa, the plush velvet making a nice contrast to rickety wooden chairs of the tavern.
"Come here darling."
He pulls you back to lay on him, and he unclasps your necklace, placing it gently on the nearby table.
"Astarion?"
You look up at him.
"Yes my love?"
Tears prick at your eyes again. You have a hard time getting the words out, as if it's an embarrassing question.
"Will... will you always keep me safe?"
Your voice wavers. He starts massaging your shoulders.
"Of course my sweet Tav, I'll keep you safe as long as you live."
His voice lowered, a certain serious tone taking hold. Part of him felt guilty things even went as far as they did tonight, but he promised himself he'd never let it happen again.
"I love you."
He smiles. It's not often you just say 'I love you' to one another, it's usually said in many different ways, in actions, in pet names. You save it for serious moments, when it feels important to remind each other of your love, how it binds you.
"I love you too darling."
Nothing else is said. Soon enough you fall asleep as he rubs your back, peaceful and safe.
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Text
Dishonorably Discharged and Detained
Alpha Shark Man x Gender Neutral Omega Reader (CW: Dubcon, a/b/o, omega reader, DILF, size difference, shark man, merman, biting, marking, claiming, heat cycles, breeding, kidnapping, force fed reader, reader is briefly shocked by an electric fence, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 4.7k (18 minutes into March and already a fic is posted! This was written as a birthday gift for a friend, happy birthday, you know who you are, my longest friendship and trusted confidant. I hope you all enjoy this. Also I tagged this as a merman because I think it qualifies, even without a fish tail a person who is part fish counts. I will die on this hill.)
The dreadnought you were on sailed at a fair pace, ever forward, back to your base. It had been deployed to the front but the battle was over before you even had a chance to arrive, enemy presence in the area had been way overestimated and your unit had not been needed. The sea ahead of you lie calm and serene, the sun scintillating off the surface of the water and the salty breeze kissed your skin, feeling pleasant in your stuffy uniform. You were second in command of the ship directly behind Admiral Reeves, you were an omega but with hard work and perseverance you had managed to defy all expectations of what an omega could be, ranking higher than many alphas your age. This caused some issues when you had first achieved your current rank, but over time you had gained the respect and obedience of those under you as well as the respect of your superiors. You had become invaluable to Admiral Reeves both as a hard worker, a motivator of the troops, and even a strategist he could always call upon for a second opinion when planning on how to engage an enemy force or escape a harrowing situation. That wasn’t to say things were completely easy for you, whenever you were docked or dealing with other service members that were not in your unit you always had to stand strong against harassment and catcalls. And being constantly surrounded by so many alphas, and the pheromones that accompanied them, could sometimes make you more than a bit dizzy. Admiral Reeves’ pheromones were among the most potent, he was not a regular human like most of your peers. He was a shark man. A hybrid species that had been genetically engineered decades ago to help humans explore the seas and get an advantage in maritime combat. Reeves’ heritage was obvious. His sharp teeth, the fin on his back, webbed fingers, gills at the base of his neck, and pale blue skin giving him away to any who saw him. He was likely in his early fifties, it was slightly hard to tell though given he wasn’t completely human, but his short hair had an attractive peppering of grey. As mentioned previously his pheromones were much stronger than an average alpha’s. Probably because he was significantly larger than a normal human. It made being an omega near him all the time slightly difficult, but the main difficulty was that sometimes his cool headed handle on his instincts slipped a bit and he could be just a slight bit overprotective of you. He never disrespected you or questioned your ability to carry out your duties though. After enjoying a few minutes of sunlight and salty sea air you began to make your way back below deck to the dorsal side of the bow where the bridge was contained, you had to make contact with the mainland and give them your coordinates and estimated time of arrival. But before you could even leave the deck a sudden explosion sent you flying. You remained conscious just long enough to notice your right arm and leg were bleeding. You tried to get up but within seconds you collapsed. The next few weeks were a blur that you were almost entirely unconscious for, with only brief fragments of confused awareness. You remembered seeing medics above you, you remember a moment of being in the ship’s medical bay as the ship weaponry fired, and you remembered being awake several times briefly in a hospital bed. When you finally, REALLY, woke up you were in significant pain. Your arm and leg that you had seen bleeding were both in a cast with your leg suspended, your vision was a bit blurry, and your head was throbbing. You had great trouble concentrating, it took great effort to collect yourself and assess your situation. You were no longer in the ship’s medical bay and there were no windows in your room, it seemed very minimalist. Probably a military hospital on base. There was nothing really much you could do other than just try to relax and let yourself heal, eventually a nurse walked in and immediately rushed over to you to check your vitals and ask you a few questions to make sure you were fully aware and awake. After doing so she hurriedly rushed out, staff was under strict orders to notify Reeves the second that you were awake. Since the ship you had been stationed on, The Sentinel, was docked for repairs Reeves was currently at the naval base that you were receiving treatment from and it did not take long for him to be notified about your updated condition and come speeding to your side. You could tell immediately by his scent he had not been getting much sleep and he had been more than a bit anxious. Not surprising, probably lost some good soldiers in that battle and then having to wait as the ship was repaired or for him to get a new assignment was probably pretty stressful. You could have never imagined that the reason for his recent distress had actually been your hospitalization. But it had affected him in ways he would not have thought previously possible. He stood beside you with a huge grin on his face. On anyone and to anyone else it may have been frightful, given the sharp nature of his teeth, but you knew it was a good sign. “Nice to see you awake after you’ve been lazing about in bed for a few weeks, haha,” he joked with his typical sense of humor before his face got grim and he took on a more solemn tone, “But... in all seriousness… It’s good to see you’re okay. We lost some good ones in that attack. Sunk the bastards that did it though.” You took a moment of silence before breaking the tension. “Don’t worry, fish breath, after a short recovery I will be their worst nightmare. I will sink their entire navy myself.” Reeves hastily hid a worried expression at the thought of you returning to duty, you didn’t know what the expression was for but it was probably just a bit of stress piercing through that rough exterior of his. “Heh, yeah. I’m sure. The little pipsqueak is gonna have them all on the ropes. They’ll piss themselves,” he chuckled heartily, though it sounded just a wee bit forced. After some small talk and him telling you about the casualties and general condition of everything he reluctantly left, after the nurse shooed him away to let you rest. For the next 5 to 6 weeks it seemed like resting was all you could really do and by the time you were ready to be released and begin physical therapy to get back to tip top shape you were really ready to get out of bed. Over the course of your recovery Reeves continued to visit you, really just about everyday that he could, to see how you were progressing and he seemed to be increasingly anxious about you returning to duty. Now that you were out of bed that anxiety seemed too palpable for you to ignore and finally, after he had given you a nervous look when you mentioned your excitement to be seaworthy right as The Sentinel was nearly ready to depart, you decided to just ask him about it. “It may just be me but… it seems like you don’t really want me back on duty…” “What that’s crazy!” he said in a manner that had you wholly unconvinced. You crossed your arms, tilted your head slightly, and stared at him with an expression that said “really?” He sighed deeply before finally admitting outright what he had been thinking since the moment you had been taken to the ship’s med bay. “Look… I know you are a talented sailor but… are you sure you should keep doing this?” You were stunned, mouth agape in shock, but he took your silence as an opportunity to press forward with his line of logic. “I mean… you have a smaller frame than anyone else. The doctors did not know if you would survive at first and the doctors said that even a beta, let alone an alpha, with a larger body would not have been so damaged by the blast or so endangered by the blood loss,” once he started saying all this the words just seemed to spill out of his mouth, like he had been damming them up and it had finally burst allowing him to unleash a torrent of his thoughts on the matter. There was of course much more to it than that, he was in love with you, but even if he had been honest about not wanting you back in combat he could not be completely honest with you or with himself on why exactly he was so adamant. You were speechless a moment more before becoming absolutely indignant. “SEVERAL people passed away in that battle, and all of them were all alphas, war doesn’t spare anyone!” Normally someone speaking to their direct superior in such a manner would be reprimanded but you were beyond caring at this point. “That may be true, but being smaller and more fragile doesn’t help your chances. And you have always been a bit accident prone…” Not an entirely unwarranted criticism, you did tend to be a bit accident prone, though all of those were minor injuries, nothing serious until now, but having enemy ammunition go off near you was hardly your fault and anyone, regardless of body or constitution, would have been injured by such a situation. Incredulous at his comments you stormed off, he called out behind you but you kept going on. That night you didn’t get much rest and you were irritable the next morning. But that did not compare you to the anger you had when you reported in the next morning and had Reeves tell you that he did not want you working with him anymore, he wanted you off the ship working in a safer non-combat capacity. You just stormed off once again to get reassigned to another combat ship. It didn’t have to be glamorous, it could be a fucking submarine for all you cared. It hurt, and it hurt bad, that you would not be with your former crew, or with the leader you had grown to consider a friend, but in battle was where you were meant to be. You put in for reassignment and vacillated between anger, grief, and feelings of betrayal for the remainder of the day. As at the end of everyday you made your way to the omega barracks. You were the only one using them currently, unlike on the ships there were fresh recruits trained on site so separate sleeping arrangements were made. It was hard but eventually you managed to push your raging emotions aside and go to sleep. Reeves had heard about your reassignment, he figured you might be difficult. Instead of asking for a non-combative position you had of course just let them reassign you to another dreadnought. He couldn’t just tank your career to get you out of the front lines, you had too impeccable of a record for anyone to believe that and too many sailors that would vouch for you, no, he would have to instead use his ties to have you erased completely. The shark was a very high ranking admiral with ties to the intelligence agencies and it was within his power to do such a thing, considering you had no civilian friends or family to poke around, and anyone in the navy who might poke around could easily be brushed off or told that you had passed away in the line of duty. So in the dead of night you were disappeared. Operatives quickly snuck in and made their way to your sleeping form, quickly injecting you with a serum that would keep you completely unconscious for many hours and then shoving you into a black sack. You woke up from probably what could be described as the deepest and most fulfilling sleep you had ever known, and then you looked around and realized that you were most certainly not where you had gone to sleep. Gone were the rows of bunk beds that had filled the small omega barracks room, replaced by a small room without any windows, blank walls, and harsh lights. It all seemed very… antiseptic. Too clean. Too empty. You went to the door, which had a small barred hole window, and tried to open it, but it was completely sealed with no way to open it without the key. But you were stubborn and shouted a few curses while trying to force it open anyway. This proved to be a mistake, as it summoned your captor. Reeves. “Admiral!? What the fuck!?! Where are we? Why am I being detained?” He looked at you and with a regretful sigh said, “You just… wouldn’t listen to reason. And I couldn’t lose you.” “My god… You’re absolutely insane! You can’t just cage me up like I am some sort of animal just because I don’t want to live my life how you want me to!” “I AM NOT INSANE!! You refused to see reason! I love you and couldn’t have you in danger anymore and you just wanted to charge in and get hurt. Your injury was a sign that it needed to stop. YOU NEED TO BE SAFE!” You flinched back, unaccustomed to him being so loud and angry. At seeing you recoil his face softened and his tone became much more quiet. “Look, you’ll get used to it here okay? I know the room is a bit bare but we can put whatever you want in here, okay? The war will be over soon and I will be able to be home and then you can move in with me.” You looked down, angry and depressed and betrayed, unable to meet his gaze. Finally he sighed heavily and mumbled that he would have someone bring you some food but he had to go. That’s largely how life went for you there for roughly a year. Facility staff would take care of your day to day needs and every few months, or sometimes weeks, you would get a visit from Reeves. Each time he would offer you some gift or trinket, repeating his confessions of love and care for you. He gave you sweets, blankets, plushies, flowers, and various other things. The blankets and plushies were scented by him, in typical courting fashion, but no matter what the item was you shoved it in the farthest corner of the room. Except the sweets, they would have expired, so instead you would immediately throw them at him. Reeves was more than distraught, not only were his attempts to advance a relationship with you not succeeding, but the friendship you had before was totally eroded. Till, the most important thing above all else was that you remained safe, and once the war ended, which would be any day now, he would be able to move you to his house and take care of you daily himself. When the war was finally over and the time had come for you to be transported to your new happy home with your captor and the destroyer of your life you fought the personnel that were trying to put you in the transport van that had been loaded with all of your things tooth and claw. Literally. You clawed and bit everyone who got near you, you would rather live in a boring glorified cage for the rest of your life than be in a house with Reeves. Finally they had you held down by multiple men and once again injected with a sedative. And, just like a somewhat uncertain amount of months previously, you woke up in a strange room. This time on a couch though. A blanket had been lovingly put on top of you and a soft pillow placed behind your head. This was obviously Reeves’ house. Unlike last time you had been informed of your destination before being abducted. It appeared you were in a modified basement, you looked around, searching for anything that may be useful as a weapon. Sadly, it seemed the room had been left clear of anything you could use to fight Reeves with. There were tiny windows, but they were not only really high up but also really small. Even if you could somehow manage to eat them you would never manage to squeeze through them. There was really only one course of action left for you. You took the blanket that had been left down here for you and waited at the door for Reeves to come down and check on you. When he finally opened it you hid behind it until he took a few steps down. You then threw the blanket over his head and kicked his legs as hard as you could making him stumble, you took the opening to push him down the steps and flee out of the basement. You came up into a hallway that connected to the living room and rushed out the door. You were more than a bit shaky, you had no shoes, and your body was weak but pushed on by a potent mix of sheer force of will and a strong dose of adrenaline allowed you to propel yourself forward. You ran down the driveway and came to a fence that was entirely locked up. No problem. You could scale this with ease, flee into the woods that seemed to surround this area, and eventually find help on the other side. But the second you touched the fence and electric current ran through your body, causing you to twitch and fall down stunned. It was electrified. Because of course it was. For someone he was worried about dying in battle he sure as shit did not seem to underestimate you when it came to you trying to escape. It didn’t take long for him to come running, you had hoped you may have been lucky enough to at least have broken a leg or ankle as he fell, but it seems he was unperturbed by his recent push. You were too shaky at this point to do anything other than let him pick you up and hold you close. “It’s okay, I know you’re scared, I forgive you for pushing me. And sorry about the fence, can’t take any chances.” He carried you back down to the basement and sat you down gently on the couch, laying the blanket that you had formerly used as a weapon on top of you before kissing your forehead, which made you flinch away in disgust. “Now that we are living together I will be able to give you the non-stop attention you deserve. I am sure you will love it here eventually, okay?” “Not okay you absolute fucking idiot, there is no way in the world I will ever love you or even remotely tolerate your presence! Just let me go! The war is already over anyway.” “There is always another war eventually and I must keep you safe from yourself. I just can't risk losing you, can’t you understand that?” You just scoffed in response and pulled the cover over your face so you didn’t have to look at him. Reeves tried rubbing your arm comfortingly through the blanket, and you could do nothing to stop given how shaken up you still were, but he could smell in your scent that you were growing increasingly angry and even a bit anxious at his touch so he finally retreated upstairs to make you a nice dinner. He remembered from years of service with you that you got pretty cranky when you were hungry. When he came back he brought with him a bowl of delicious smelling crab bisque, something he thought was fairly light and easily digestible, but not too light and still full of nutrients. He sat the bowls down on the coffee table and sat on the opposite side of the couch from you. “Sorry about the furniture accommodations. I will move a table and bed down here for you eventually. At some point you will share my bed but I felt like an adjustment period might be good for you first.” “Yeah, so I don’t murder you in your sleep,” you said dryly and without any hint of it being a joke. “Y-you don’t mean that, you’re just a bit cranky because you need some foo-” **CRASH** He was interrupted by you using your hand to smack the bowl of bisque right the fuck off the table and into the hard concrete wall, not unlike a cat that had taken offense to a cup on a table. “It’s… okay… I made more than enough. I know this has been hard on you.” All you did was blankly stare at him as he went and procured another bowl. It smelled great and you were well and truly hungry, but you refused to give in. If you made sure not to eat too much your body would not trigger a heat because it would take too much energy. You also just wanted to piss him off, maybe get him so pissed off that he either lets you go or at least makes some mistakes that you can exploit. When he handed you the second bowl he had gotten for you it immediately met the same fate as its predecessor. He stared at you for a long moment that seemed to span an eternity before he angrily grabbed his bowl of food and pulled you close to him by his arm. He pinched your nose closed so you had to open your mouth and then he shoved a spoonful of food into your mouth, then he held his hand over your mouth so you had to swallow. Reeves continued this a couple times until you got the memo and ate the rest of the bowl willingly. Well… you had wanted him to be pissed. Over the course of weeks you had to accept that you just had to eat what you were given, but by no means did you just give up on making life inconvenient for him. Every gift tossed, any furniture he brought down here destroyed, blankets shredded, anytime he scented something it would be immediately quarantined to the closet after its destruction. The only thing you kept was clothing you deemed acceptable and without his smell on it, you needed clothes but would not accept any with his pheromones. That could be misconstrued as you accepting courtship. You were perfectly content with denying him any ounce of love, affection, or friendship and you were right in the middle of giving a nice silent treatment when finally the proper nutrition and your omega nature convened to ruin everything. You were in heat. Heats were very strong on a normal day, but this was not a normal heat, this was the first heat in a very long time. You had prevented them for a long time in the black site and when you were in the navy of course you took prescribed suppressants. You hadn’t had one in years. Tremors shook your body, you couldn’t stand and your body temperature was heightened. They didn’t call it a heat for nothing. Your brain was addled, you were dizzy and almost delirious, you could barely remember why you were here. You tossed off the covers and stripped down to your slick soaked underwear. Reeves was awoken by an amazing scent and knew immediately what it was, your pheromones beckoning him even from his bedroom, his darling needed him desperately. The smell demanded he come immediately to you and comfort you and take care of you in every way imaginable. Reeves saw you there before him, writhing in carnal need and so small and helpless in front of him. The couch wouldn’t do, he needed a bigger and more familiar space, he took you up to his room where he had actually made and maintained a nest made of things that smelled of the both of you. Despite a vague notion in the back of your mind telling you to avoid him, scratch him, and leave this situation, your instincts and the powerful consequences of having denied yourself your natural cycle DEMANDED that you bury your nose into the scent gland of his neck. So strong, such a strong mate. Reeves was elated, his brain was very much fogged too with lust and instinct but he didn’t have it as badly as you did. He was very much aware that his darling mate was finally accepting and even actively seeking out comfort from him. The shark man peeled off your slick saturated underwear, sniffing at your hole, breathing in the heavenly aroma you made, before your cries of desperation and something inside of him told him to slide his tongue right inside. Finally you began to feel the smallest amount of relief. It wasn’t enough, you needed a knot. A nice big knot from a nice big alpha, and this one smelled strong. You grinded yourself into his probing tongue, whimpering for much more. After several minutes of this he decided that was enough of getting your flavor and he was now ready to properly breed and mark his sweet little brat. He took off his clothes, revealing his large well muscled pecs, lightly scarred from years of combat, and his large cock. The musk coming from it made you drool. He wasted no time ramming into you, as caught up in the moment as he was he had little concern for going slow or for any possible discomfort. Fortunately there was none, you were perfectly primed for his large prick. It slid in you perfectly hitting all the right spots inside of you, causing you to squeal with delight when he bottomed out, deep within you. He moaned himself when he felt your heat and how every movement you made, every shudder, squirm, and all that writhing, he could feel on his cock. He started slow at first, but that was not what either of you wanted and soon it turned into a messy slamming of you, making hot wet sounds as he battered your innards with his cock pistoning in and out. It did not take long at all for his knot to start to swell within you and then reach its full size, sealing the two of you together whether or not you would want it when post heat clarity hit you. You clung to him tightly as he bred you, nails clawing at the skin of his back, as if trying to pull him deeper inside you. He nuzzled into your neck, his nose swimming in your scent as he breathed it in, this is what he had wanted for so long and now he knew he would never regret his actions, everything had been worth it. Reeves licked your neck and bit down on your scent gland, sharp teeth buried into your neck, you whimpered at the sensation and he licked your neck comfortingly, holding you close as you both shared a powerful orgasm. You both panted from the intensity, the heat that was burning up your will power and clarity fading a bit, but not enough to be yourself again. Reeves knew on some level that when things went back to normal you would still resist him, and your convictions would not be so altered in subsequent heats now that you had one after so long, but this was a good start to everything finally falling into place. Your heat would last days and there would be a lot of breeding and a lot of bonding. His instinct to protect you would only get stronger and you would be a bit more susceptible to his pheromones and would naturally seek him out for comfort when in distress. He may have been part fish, but it was you who were caught in his net.
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jointherebellion215 · 2 months
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If It's True
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Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader
Summary: When an unexpected guest crashes your House's welcome feast for the Harkonnens, your life unknowingly becomes the start of a sad, sad song.
Word Count: 872
TW: Manipulation, Dark!Feyd-Rautha (so Regular Feyd-Rautha), she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, songfic
A/N: Hi, it's your friendly neighborhood shitposter. I'm taking a huge leap of faith with this fic, because I truly haven't written anything in YEARS. This idea has been bouncing around in my head for days, thus "the trilogy was born". This is meant to be Part One of a three part series, based on different songs from the musical Hadestown. I've obviously written this with very very dark interpretations of the songs and the themes. If enough people like it, I'll post parts two and three. Please let me know if it's any good, I'd love some feedback :)
AO3
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories other than what I derive inspiration from are strictly coincidence.
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What’s the use of his backbone
If he never stands upright?
“We welcome you to Kolhar, my lords Baron and na-Baron. Our House humbly offers our services and facilities to your use. I toast to our continued cooperation and to the strength of our Houses.”
As your father raised his cup, others of our House followed suit. The official welcome feast was well underway, though House Harkonnen had been planetside for at least a week already. The past few days had been for inspecting our mines and factories, ensuring that our production of their ships and swords were up to standard. 
Now? Pure pageantry. You found it a bit redundant, but it was necessary to ensure your good standing among the Houses of the Imperium. It was a grand occasion, in which the leaders of your father’s council were present, as well as the highest ranked mine workers. 
The doors to the large hall slam open, a familiar figure storming in. Your heart flutters at the sight of your beloved parting the crowds before him. The man who you had met by complete coincidence, one of the workers in a local steel mine, who you had spent the better part of a year meeting in secret—had crashed the court. You noticed a bruise growing on his cheek and blood trickling down his temple, indicating that his journey to enter through the doors was easier said than done. His voice soon bellowed throughout the hall. 
“My Lord Duke, I refuse to let your daughter’s hand be taken by the na-Baron. She cannot marry him.” 
The crowd gasps, as do you. You had spent the past week showing the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha around the grounds, the training of your most fierce warriors, and the best of your planet’s culture. You had shared a laugh or two and shown your prowess as a leader. Yes, you’d spent quite a bit of time with him, but marriage? This was news to you. 
You turn to your father, who gives you an apologetic grimace. Several Harkonnen guards step forward to seize the love of your life. You quickly stand to protest, but the na-Baron stops the guards in their track with a single snap of his fingers. He offers a hand to calm the crowd, an eerie stillness in his form.
“It is true, I have offered my hand to the Lady.”
I believe that with each other, 
we are stronger than we know.
“There must be a way around this. Even if this is in defiance of the court, they can’t punish all of us! We work their mines; they couldn’t truly function without us. We are the ones who truly hold the power! I implore you to stand with me, show them our strength!”
Your love stands strong, chin raised in the crowd, voice pleading with his brothers and sisters to stand beside him. He was convinced that this moment could provide a great revelation, that somehow your situation was different. That the consensus of a crowd could make the na-Baron stand down. Surely, your story could convince even the coldest of hearts that love can conquer all. He must have some sentimentality that resonates within him.
That's one of the main reasons why you fell in love with him. He's always so full of hope. Always willing to see the world as it could be, in spite of the way that it actually is.
But you knew better.
“This is treason.” Someone whispers in the room. Murmurs of assent soon follow, and your heart drops. The crowd around him quickly dissipates, as if the mere act of touching him promises death. 
And the ones who deal the cards
Are the ones who take the tricks
With their hands over their hearts
While we play the game they fix
You start to plead with your father to spare your lover. He doesn’t know any better, he wasn’t raised in the ways of politics or court. It’s purely out of his love and devotion to you, so please—
Feyd-Rautha stands up and the room is immediately devoid of sound. He cranes his neck to look at you.
“You love him?”
You swallow harshly, lifting your chin. “I do.” You went to your lover, making a bold statement in linking your fingers together. Presenting a united front. Hoping that somehow, your kind attitude the past week towards the na-Baron would allow this leniency.
A gleam flashes through his eyes, almost imperceptible. He gives a blackened smile, making show of placing his hand over his heart. Confusion fills you. He slithers down the steps towards the pair of you, boots echoing in the Feasting Hall, each step making your lover’s hand give a slight tremor. Your mind stands strong in its conviction, in the thought that you’ll have to fight for what you want. But a small tendril in the back of your mind gives the slightest hesitation. The smallest indication of hope. Maybe…
Piter leans towards his Baron, whispering concerns in his ears, but is quickly paused by the Baron’s hand. Vladimir gives a slow, menacing grin. He responds to his Mentat in a low voice,
“Don’t bother. You know that my nephew loves to play with his food.”
Is this how the world is?
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babydollmarauders · 2 months
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THE START OF IT ALL — JACK HUGHES
part of the el!hughes au
summary: how jack and y/n (lovie) met, through the grace of quinn
warnings: bad parental guidance, small mention of body insecurities and anxiety. (4k words)
notes: a well overdue fic! i’m so thankful to you guys for being patient with me as i navigate writing in my hectic new reality of college and working full time! <3
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goosebumps trail my exposed skin, the chilling air of the practice rink nipping from my lack of sweater.
the sound of skates scraping against the ice rings in my ears, mingling with the bangs of sticks hitting against pucks and creating an oddly peaceful soundtrack for my meditation.
my feet are killing me.
capezio tights stretch across my legs, making them shimmer in the fluorescent lighting of the rink, and a black leotard hugs my body, neatly pulled together with a pink wrap skirt. ballet flats adorn my feet, my pointe shoes laying idly in my dance bag in the seat beside me as i watch the national development team practice.
it feels like so long ago that i came and watched my first practice; the one fateful day of september seeming light years away now. but in reality it was only a mere couple months ago that a group of us dance girls had decided to walk down the block and watch a practice.
Natalie and Thalia wanted to check out the guys, and me? i just didn’t want to be left out. but then watching one practice turned into watching two, and then three, and before i knew it, it became a regular occurrence. it didn’t matter anymore that the girls lost interest and no longer tagged along, in fact, i enjoyed the time spent alone.
this became my safe haven; no dance partners to critique my fouettés, no parents whispering in my ear that i’m not doing well enough in school or that i’m not practicing my dances enough or that i need to go on a diet because i don’t look as pristine or perfect in my leotard as the other girls do. just me and the sounds of several sixteen year old boys whipping pucks into the net and gliding around the ice.
as the piercing sound of a whistle slices through my peace, i know that afternoon practice has ended, my serene escape over until tomorrow.
as the team shuffles off the ice and back into their locker room, i revel in the silence for a little while, taking the moment to change from my flats to sneakers; the twenty-seven minute trek home will be a lot more terrain than the five minute one from the ballet studio to the rink, and a lot harder on my shoes.
pushing up from my seat, my hand wraps around the strap of my dance bag, slinging it over my shoulder as i slide through the rows of seats. my feet squeak against the cement steps, two at a time until i reach the exit floor.
pushing through the glass doors, i slip out into the crisp November air, ducking my head as i walk past a group of players that stand around their cars after practice, hair damp from post-practice showers. a few more players can be heard slamming the doors of their cars, obviously in much more of a rush to get home than their teammates.
it only takes five minutes of walking for me to become paranoid, a black GMC following behind me with every turn i make. my heart stutters with anxiety, my pace speeding as i attempt to shake the fear that rakes my body.
but as i speed up, so does the car, until finally the drivers window rolls down as they drive at a pace similar to my walking speed. inside is a teenage boy, a familiar face that i know i’ve seen on the ice of the usntdp rink.
“hey, you watch our practices.” it’s a statement, he knows i do, i assume a lot of them know. it’s kind of hard to miss the thirteen year old girl sitting alone in the stands every afternoon.
i stop, turning towards the boy as i nod in response.
“i always see you walking home, do you want a ride?” he asks before his eyes widen, stumbling over words, “wait, i just realized how that sounds— i’m not trying to kidnap you, i swear! you just live a few houses down, i figured i’d save you some time.”
i’m aware that my answer might be stupid and not very well thought out, but in this moment, i truthfully don’t care— the boy seems trustworthy, an odd sense of warmth radiating from him, so i nod again.
“yes, please.”
his head nods in the direction of the passengers side, unlocking the doors as he tells me to hop in; and i do so, slipping into the seat and hastily pulling the seatbelt across my body.
“i’m Quinn,” he introduces, a hand held out in front of me, “i play for the national development team.”
“i know,” i hum out, shaking his hand, “i’m y/n.”
Quinn steps lightly on the gas pedal, continuing the route to our apparently shared street.
“so, why do you come to the practices?” he questions, and though the question itself sounds a little judgy, his tone is soft, “at first i assumed maybe you were a sister, but then i’ve never seen you with any of the guys.”
i watch as the trees pass by in a blur through the window, my hands fidgeting with the strap of my dance bag that sits on the floor between my feet.
“it’s peaceful.” i confess, making him throw me a lopsided smirk mixed in with furrowed brows, “i don’t really get along with any of the girls in my ballet class, and my parents don’t get home from work until dinner time. its nice to just kill some time and listen to the sounds of the skates on the ice and the pucks hitting the net.”
Quinn hums as though he understands me, and for once, it actually feels like someone does. we’ve barely spoken to each other, we’ve only just met, but for once in my life, i feel as though someone isn’t judging me or about to tell me what i could do better.
“i get it.” he shrugs, “so, have you been a hockey fan, or are you just a little oddball and like the sounds?”
a small smile spreads across my lips, a laugh escaping at his joke, and Quinn garners an appearance of pride at making me laugh. his chest puffs out just slightly, his posture straightening and a smirk resting on his lips.
“i am,” i nod, before i realize i should clarify, “a hockey fan. i’m a hockey fan.”
it’s Quinn’s turn to chuckle now, eyes flickering towards me before they settle back on the road ahead, “but i get the feeling you are a little oddball, aren’t you? or at least maybe some other people think so.”
the vibe in the car turns stony, my body tensing.
“yeah,” i drop my eyes to my hands, finding great interest in the dirtied white color of my bag strap, “i prefer to keep to myself, you know? it feels like all everyone tells me is how i can do better. how i can perfect my dances, or how i’m so pretty but i would be so much prettier if i did this or that, or how despite straight A’s and a 4.0 GPA, there’s more i could do to get into a stupid ivy league that i don’t wanna go to-”
i suck in a deep breath, cutting off my rambles prematurely, because here i was dumping all my insecurities and problems on a boy three years my senior and who i’ve only just met.
“i’m sorry, those are some shitty people.” Quinn frowns, a hand tightening just slightly around the steering wheel.
“that was all my parents.”
“fuck,” he curses, glancing over at me quickly with wide eyes as we turn onto our street, “your parents said all that?”
i shrug, nodding my head, “it’s what a parent does, right? they criticize you to be the best you can be. the girls in dance aren’t much better.”
Quinn parks the car in front of what i assume is his billet house, turning in his seat to face me properly.
“a parent should guide you to be the best version of yourself, not criticize you until you become the person they want you to be.”
his words repeat in my head, my brows threading together as i hum in acknowledgment of his statement.
rather than truly respond, i unbuckle my seatbelt, pushing the door open as i gather my bag from the floor.
“thank you for the ride, Quinn. sorry for dumping all my problems on you.”
i don’t give him a chance to respond, hopping out of the car and slinging my bag over my shoulder as i shut the door.
i’m only one house away when i hear him yell, “hey! same time tomorrow?”
i spin around confused, finding him standing next to the car with his hockey bag slung over his own shoulder.
“what?”
“same time tomorrow! i’ll drive you home!” he smiles gently, before giving a small wave and heading into his house.
what the fuck just happened? did i just make a new friend?
***
my entire body aches, my toes in particular feeling incredibly sore due to the bruised skin that covers them, but i push through.
only a week until the spring performance and i still don’t feel that my solo is where it should be. my pointe shoes make my toes prick with pain, but over time, the pain turns into a stinging numbness.
my reflection stares back at me in the mirrored wall, a frustrated puff of air passing through my parted lips. my tutu caresses my arms as i let them fall to my sides, lowering back down to flat feet.
in the mostly empty building, i can hear the ring of the bell above the front entrance followed by muffled conversation approaching the private room i currently occupy.
i walk over to the chair that holds my things, my brows furrowing as i check the time. i still have five minutes until Quinn is due to pick me up. that gives me more than enough time to run through the solo once more.
walking over to the barre, i flex my feet a couple of times. but before i can begin to dance, i’m bombarded by the sound of conversation.
“what are we doing at a dance studio?” a male voice echoes through the building, grumbling in obvious annoyance.
“i told you, i have to pick up a friend.” i recognize that voice immediately; Quinn. my close friend of four months.
“a girlfriend?” i scrunch my nose at the other person’s question, part of me wanting to shout out that i can hear them.
“a girl that’s a friend, yeah. more like a little sister.” a heated blush rises to my cheeks, a smile spreading across my lips.
he thinks of me as a sister.
a knock sounds against the door of the private room before it creaks open, Quinn’s head popping in.
“hey, twinkle toes, you ready to go?” he smiles warmly, his eyes sparking with care as he eyes my outfit, “nice tutu.”
“you’ve seen this one before.” i giggle but it quickly dies off into a sigh as i think about how much work i still need to put into the dance, “give me one sec?”
“yeah, go for it.” he nods, “mind if i come in?”
“come on in.”
closing my eyes, i take a deep breath, tuning out the sounds of Quinn and his company entering the room. breathing out, i enter fifth position.
plié, passé relevé, back down to fifth position, my eyes open as i run through the rest of the dance, focusing on my core and watching myself in the mirror.
my sight flickers to Quinn, a smile on his face as he watches me dance, and for a moment i feel so proud of myself. but then my sights set on the boy beside him.
fluffy dirty blond hair mussed atop of his head, beauty marks dotting across his soft features, and beautiful blue eyes that watch my figure. he’s the prettiest boy i’ve ever seen.
i stutter in my steps, suddenly nervous and self conscious in front of the unfamiliar face, and before i can fix my form, i buckle under his stare; missing a step before my ankle twists, a sharp tinge of pain shooting up my leg as i stumble back down onto flat feet.
“shit.” i whimper, my facial features contorting in pain as i flex my ankle, gauging my pain level.
“are you okay?” Quinn stammers, eyes wide in concern, “what happened?”
“i’m fine,” i sigh. walking over to my bag, i pull my flats out and sit on the chair, beginning the process of taking off my pointe shoes, “i just got a little distracted.”
“distracted?” Quinn repeats, confusion plaguing his features before he looks back at his company, his lips quirking into a smirk, “y/n, this is my brother, Jack. Jack, this is y/n.”
my face heats under the heavy gaze of Jack’s blue eyes, his shoes tapping against the floor as he steps forward, extending a hand in front of me.
“hi.”
he smiles and it’s as though the whole world slowed, as though the universe was saying ‘look. look at him. perfection personified amidst your very eyes.’
“hi, it’s nice to meet you.” my hand slips into his, shaking lightly before i pull away, distracting myself by continuing my endeavors of changing my shoes.
Quinn and Jack share whispered huffs, mumbled words between the two of them as i slip my flats on, shoving my pointe shoes in my bag.
i stand now, removing my tutu and holding it carefully, leaving me in only my tights and leotard.
“i’m ready.” they both look over at me, Quinn nodding in acknowledgment before he turns and wordlessly begins walking out, leaving his brother and i to fall in line behind him.
“so how did you guys meet?” Jack asks me as we step out of the private room, his voice hushed.
“i go watch the development program practices a lot, Quinn saw me walking home and offered me a ride.”
“you like hockey?” he raises a brow as he looks over at me with a bright grin.
“mhm.” i hum, “i’ve watched it my whole life. my dad is a red wings fan.”
we exit the building, following Quinn to his car.
“good team.” Jack replies, his voice far off, eyes staring ahead as though deep in thought; and i assume that’s the end of our conversation until he speaks again, “i liked your dance. pretty.”
blood rushes to the apples of my cheeks and i bite my lip to hold back a smile, “thanks.”
i pull open the car door as Quinn unlocks it, climbing into the back seat so that Jack can sit up front with his brother. but i’m surprised when he joins me in the back, earning a look from Quinn.
it’s silent as Quinn starts the car, pulling out from the parking space and out of the lot.
“so,” Jack starts, gaining my attention once more, “you dance and you like hockey, what else should i know about you?”
i ponder the question for a moment before i look over at him, “there’s not much to tell. i’m an only child, i like taylor swift, i don’t know.”
“well what do you and your friends do for fun? do you wanna be a ballerina when you graduate?” he turns towards me, letting me know i have his full attention.
“i only have one friend.” i shrug, “Quinn. and he and i usually just hang out at his billet house or at the rink. he’s been teaching me to skate.
“as for the ballerina thing, i don’t think so. i love dancing, but i don’t want it to be my life.”
Jack hums, nodding his head in thought before his lips part again, “give me your phone.”
“what?”
“gimme your phone.” he makes a grabby hand, waiting for me to pull my phone out of my bag before i set it in his palm.
he turns it on, getting in easily with my lack of password, and quickly types something before handing it back.
“two.” he smirks.
“what?” my face punches in confusion.
“you have two friends now.” i look down at my phone, a new contact open with his number inputted in.
“okay.” i smile, not quite sure how to react to this gorgeous boy wanting to be my friend. it’s a new feeling that i’m not quite used to.
the car is silent as we pull onto Quinn and i’s street, but if i remember correctly, he’s staying at a hotel with his dad for the next couple of days.
“hey, twinkle toes.” Quinn calls out from the drivers seat.
“yeah?”
“you still coming to the game tomorrow?”
“i plan on it.” i tell him.
“alright, you’ll be sitting with my dad and Jack.” he informs me, “Jack, you good to wait for her at the entrance to take her to your guys’ seats?”
Quinn stops in front of my house, unlocking the doors.
“yeah, sure.” Jack confirms, watching as i exit the vehicle, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”
“see you tomorrow!” i smile. i shut the door, Quinn’s window rolling down as he calls out a goodbye, “bye, snuggles!”
i can hear Jack snort out a laugh as i walk away, a wheezed echo of “snuggles?!” coming from the back seat.
“shut it, Rowdy.” Quinn grumbles, rolling up his window before peeling away.
***
thirty minutes.
i spent thirty long minutes picking out my outfit for tonight. when i originally said i would go to Quinn’s game, i had just planned on wearing a USA Hockey sweatshirt and some leggings; but now that i’ve met Jack and know i’ll be with him? i refused to dress down so much.
descending the stairs of my house, my mother peers over the back of the couch, her hair in a tight bun and her laptop in her lap, slaving over a law case with files piled beside her.
“what are you so dressed up for?” she inquires, her glasses sitting low on the bridge of her nose.
“i have Quinn’s game tonight.” i walk around the couch to stand in front of her, my nikes shuffling along the area rug.
“i’m so proud of you.” she smiles, and for a moment i’m left to ponder where this could go, “you’re finally taking a care to how you present yourself.”
and there it is; the subtle jab. it can never be a real compliment, there’s always gonna be the underlying insult muddled in somewhere.
“are you going with friends?” she questions, her focus falling back on the open computer screen in her lap.
“kinda?” i’m not quite sure what to call Jack, he said we’re friends, but we also don’t actually know each other.
“kinda?” my mother echoes in wonder, looking back up at me as i wander into the kitchen to retrieve a water bottle.
“yeah. i met Quinn’s brother yesterday, the one a year older than me?” i start, “i’m sitting with him and their dad at the game. i don’t think i would call us friends really, but we exchanged numbers yesterday.”
my mother sighs, pushing her glasses atop of her head in order to pinch the bridge of her nose.
“does this boy play that brutal game too?”
my mind wanders back to what Quinn has told me about his family in the past, “yeah, they all do.”
“oh y/n, don’t get too wrapped up in these boys. they won’t do you any good.” she tells me, “find a nice boy, one who wants to do something substantial with his life.”
“we’re just friends, mom. it’s not like anything is gonna happen.”
“but you want it to.” she narrows her eyes, waving her finger towards me, “i can see it. mother’s intuition. don’t fall for this boy.”
who is she to tell me who i should fall for? she and dad barely even speak anymore. i wouldn’t even call what they have, love.
“it’s just going to a hockey game, mom. their dad is gonna be there too.” i sigh, “i gotta go.”
“how are you getting there?” she asks, “are they picking you up?”
“no,” i shake my head, “dad said he would drive me.”
her brows furrow, “your dad had to go into work.”
i gape at her, a blank look covering my face. i shouldn’t be shocked, this happens all the time. it’s the same reason i walk home from ballet, or why i’ve come to rely on Quinn to pick me up for school. but somehow, it still always feels like a cut to the heart.
my mother sighs, shutting her laptop and rising from her seat, “i’ll drive you. come on.”
“you would think he would try and spend more time with you. but it’s always work with that one. work then family.” she mutters, ranting to herself as she slips her shoes on, grabbing her keys from the dish on the entryway table.
i fall in line slowly behind her, dreading this car ride already; because it appears it’s one of those days. the days where my mother will do anything to appear better in my eyes than my father. including talking down about him to me in hopes to make me more upset with him than i already am.
and i was correct. the entire drive was spent with me sitting silently in the passengers seat, watching my surroundings pass by as she went on and on about all of the things my father has done wrong in the past week.
i couldn’t get out of the car quick enough, nearly breaking the car door off its hinges as i throw it open. calling out a goodbye to my mother and assuring her that yes, Quinn would be driving me home afterwards, i slam the door shut and jog towards the arena entrance.
slowing down upon the sight of the glass doors, my body lights up, butterflies flutter in my stomach as i spot Jack in the lobby just through the doors. he wears jeans and a gray hoodie, converse tied to his feet, and he looks down at his phone, glancing up every few moments.
when his eyes land on me through the clear glass, a friendly smile spreads across his lips, slipping his phone into his pocket and taking a few steps towards the door, propping it open for me.
“hey!” he chimes as i reach the entrance, “puck should drop soon! i was gonna text you to check in but, i didn’t wanna push anything.”
my heart rate picks up, my cheeks burning at the idea of seeing Jack’s name pop up on my phone, “you can text me any time.”
Jack’s smile drops into a smirk, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and amusement, “i’ll keep that in mind.”
“our seats are this way.” Jack begins pushing through the lingering people in our way, many not paying any attention to the people in their way as they try and navigate towards their own seats.
for a second, i’m pushed away from him, worry flooding my mind as i think of how i’ll try and find our seats if i lose him. but then he looks back at me, his eyes finding mine, and he must see the anxiety that fills my body, because it’s not a moment later that his hand finds mine.
his hand slips into mine, interlacing our fingers as he gently tugs me closer to him as he walks, a reassuring quirk to his lips, “i got you. it’s okay.”
and somehow, all my worry melts away, just like that. for some reason, i feel like he’s telling the truth; it’ll be okay.
there’s something about Jack’s presence that calms my nerves. that makes me feel okay. and it sounds utterly insane because i’ve known him for all of twenty-four hours, but i feel like can truly trust him.
as we reach our seats, Jack sitting next to his dad with me beside him, he still never lets go of me. instead, he rests our hands on his thigh, glancing over at me to gauge my reaction before he speaks.
“you okay?”
and finally, for once, i’m telling the truth, “yeah.”
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littlejuicebox · 3 months
Text
Milk.
Back again for the third time today, this time with some porn with a plot.
I'm really on one with the Dadstarion fics. Something has been unleashed inside me, people.
I need to edit all these headers at some point.
Warnings: babies, angst w comfort, smut, nipple play, breast milk, breast milk drinking, breeding kink, daddy kink, teasing, dirty talk, a bit of soft dom Astarion vibes, 18+ only please
A/N: Most of you already know I'm a degenerate.
-----
Astarion had been uncharacteristically melancholy this week.
Sure, it wasn’t unusual to witness him in one of his moods of irritation or frustration, particularly when some business deal or another was not going particularly well, or a contract he’d already drafted more times than he could count came back to him with more rebuttals.
But to witness this cloud of sadness around your husband, especially after Gale’s birth, was odd. He’d been the picture of domestic joy and fatherhood, completely over the moon in his new role. He even wore the sleeplessness better than you in the first few months, happy to assist where he could so that his little love could get more valuable rest.
However, just recently, his mood had become detached and distant. Everything he did and said seemed tinged with worry or sadness. It reminded you of the spawn version of Astarion from several years ago, almost always caught in a poor memory or concerning line of thought. That version of Astarion hadn’t shown up in a while. You couldn’t be sure what triggered it.
“Gale’s getting quite good at holding his head up,” You inform your husband as you crawl into bed with him after just putting the three-month-old down for the evening.
“That’s wonderful news, darling.” Astarion replies, with that same distant, pensive air he’s addressed you with all week as he focuses on the book in his lap.
You sigh, and put your hand over the book, obscuring the pages and forcing the elf to acknowledge you, “What is it, Astarion? You’ve been in this… mood all week and I’m beginning to worry you’re regretting parenthood.”
Your husband’s eyebrows crinkle as he places the book on his nightstand, staring at you with a mixture of shock, hurt and confusion, “Darling, do you truly think that? What have I done besides absolutely dote on Gale? And on you!”
You realize you’ve misspoken. You see the wounds on your husband’s face as he assesses you, and your hands come to his cheeks, searching his eyes, “No, no I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I know you don’t regret Gale… I just. I’m worried, Astarion. You seem… sad. Lost in thought in a way I haven’t seen in years and… I don’t know why.”
There is a moment of silence as Astarion’s eyes flash through several thoughts, filtering through a week's worth of garbled noise within his mind. And then he sighs, “I…” he pauses and blinks, forcing himself to meet your gaze, “I’m worried that I won’t be the right masculine role model for Gale. That I’m not strong enough to show him… to show him how to be a good man.”
Your mouth falls open in shock. You cannot even think of something to say, because this certainly wasn’t the direction you thought Astarion would take. He was always quite self-assured in his talents and never hesitant to be the true version of himself after the parasite fiasco over a decade ago.
He continues, “I don’t live in the woods, or whatever it is exactly Halsin does. I’m not an especially talented spell caster like Gale. And I’m fair with a blade but it’s been years since I’ve had use for one and I don’t have the level of training nor regular practice like Wyll nowadays, dear. I review contracts and make investments; I run the winery. I embroider. I’m not exactly the picture of masculinity in comparison to… others.”
There is a moment of quiet between the two of you. Concerned tears form in your husband’s eyes, which he quickly blinks away.
“Astarion… you are the strongest man I know.” You murmur, running a finger along the elf’s cheek as he scoffs and shakes his head. His eyes jerk away from your face; clearly, he does not believe you.
You gasp in shock as you cup his face harder, willing the elf to understand how serious you are. You continue, vehemently, “My love. You cannot seriously believe otherwise! You have endured more than any of us could ever imagine. Over 200 years of… horrible atrocities. And then you came out on the other side of that, after having sacrificed so much — and Astarion, do not ever forget how much you willingly sacrificed — to be better. To choose differently. To be so much more.”
You are ripping the blankets away and crawling into your husband’s lap now, wrapping your limbs around his torso. His head comes to the side of your neck as you hold him, hoping to convey the love and respect you have for the elf with the warmth of your arms. Your fingers latch into the curls on the back of his neck as you speak in a reverent whisper, urging him to believe you.
“I watched you endure years without the sun in more stride than I could have possibly thought. And you are perhaps softer than you were when we met, yes. But this version of you gives me and Gale everything we need and more. I cannot imagine someone stronger or more courageous than you, my love. And I think you have forgotten how much strength it took for you to become this soft in the first place. I love this version of you. And Gale has a wonderful, loving, strong father in this version. Please do not ever doubt that.”
A quiet hum of acknowledgement comes from your husband, but no other words escape him as he lifts his head from the crook of your neck and envelopes your lips in a soft kiss. A thank you.
Your heart is pounding from the passion with which you spoke, and when Astarion’s lips press into yours, that passion and love begins to flow throughout your body. Pieces of you start to wake.
It had been a while since you two were intimate. Not since before Gale's birth. Days and nights had recently been filled with parenthood and left little time nor energy for much else. But as Astarion pushes forward, wrapping his arms around your back, you feel the stirrings of desire deep in your core. A soft moan leaves you as a fire begins to grow where mere glowing embers had been left several months ago.
Astarion must be feeling the same pull, because his hand trails from your back and sneaks under your nightdress to brush along your thigh. He slowly traces up the length of your leg to cup your bottom while he deepens the kiss with a soft, breathy moan of his own. He’s flexing his hips up toward you, the growing bulge in his trousers begging for further stimulation. Your lover’s tongue swipes along your lower lip, asking for entry, and your mouth opens to accept the swirling heat of desire from the elf.
He explores your mouth and caresses your bottom for a while, tenderly, slowly, and in no rush to further things along despite the mutual growing desire between your two bodies. It’s you that finally breaks the kiss before ripping your night dress over your head, exposing two heavy, milk-laden breasts in the process. Astarion brings the hand not kneading into your ass to cup your breast before thumbing the pert nipple.
You gasp, and your husband’s brows crinkle for a moment as he pauses his ministrations.
“Too sensitive?” He asks, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your other breast.
“No, keep going,” You urge him, closing your eyes and rolling your hips forward to grind into his groin. He bucks forward to meet you instinctively.
He tentatively thumbs the nipple again and you moan in response. Without thinking much about it, Astarion brings his mouth to the other breast and wraps his lips around the bud before sucking gently. You release an ecstatic keen in response when his teeth graze against the tender flesh. You are continuing to roll your hips into him when he suddenly retracts from your chest with a shocked gasp.
Your eyes snap open, and you catch the final glimpse of your husband wiping breast milk from the side of his mouth as his cheeks and ears slowly turn pink. And then you feel your own embarrassment growing as rosy patches flush across your chest and cheeks. You quickly move to cover your breasts.
“I-I’m sorry,” You whisper, “it slipped my mind. I forgot about the…”
You’re thinking the moment’s ruined, and moving to climb off your husband, but he quietly brings his hand to your waist and stills you. His eyes search yours silently for a moment, and you’re still so consumed by your own embarrassment that all you can do is stare dumbly back at him, eyebrows furrowed.
But then Astarion lifts one of his hands to your own, slowly lowering it from where it had been covering your breast. He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he once again leans forward and wraps his lips around the nipple, sucking gently. Warm milk flows into his mouth and you inhale sharply, unable to look away as your husband removes his lips from your breast, opens his mouth to show you the white liquid, and then closes his mouth and swallows.
He swallows.
And then he smirks up at you with a self-satisfied, mischievous glint in his eyes that causes the slickness between your legs to instantly double.
Gods, this man.
You are convinced your entire body is flushing red at this point as Astarion slowly brings his other hand up to palm the flesh of your breast.
“Would you like daddy to do it again?” He purrs before his tongue laps circles around the side of your heavy tit.
“I— gods, yes.” You respond, blinking down at the elf.
“Okay. But you have to ask me very, very nicely, little love.” He responds teasingly as he trails kisses to your other breast, waiting for you to say something.
“Please suck my nipple,” You whisper, eagerly rolling your groin into your husband's raging erection.
But Astarion doesn’t do what he’s asked. Instead, he’s teasing the bud with the flat of his tongue and humming contentedly, waiting for something from you.
“Please suck my nipple, daddy.” You amend, and the elf instantly engages his lips around your other breast with a soft groan. He’s drinking with vigor as your hands find the curls at the nape of his neck and take hold. Before long he’s retracting again, his mouth full of liquid gold.
And he pulls the same maneuver. Mouth open, flashing the white liquid as he looks directly into your eyes. Mouth closed. Swallow. Devious smile.
“It’s delicious, you know.” He murmurs as you stare at him, still in shock and still somewhat embarrassed by the fact that you are actually enjoying this. His hands come to either breast, both now significantly lighter, and he fondles the soft tissue.
“You shouldn’t be so surprised that you like this darling, I distinctly remember a time when I made you orgasm by mere nipple play alone.” He whispers, a glint of that cocky rogue playing across his face before he trails kisses up your chest and along your neck.
“Gods, Astarion,” You respond, “I need you inside me, now.”
You’re done with the foreplay. Your husband has you ridiculously hot and bothered, and it’s been far, far too long. You're on your knees, which are straddled on either side of his hips as you urgently tug at the waistband of his trousers, trying to work his pants and underclothes off in one motion. But your husband is purposely resisting and refusing to lift his hips, watching you with that same arrogant smile.
Oh, he's toying with you.
“Darling, why am I always the one dirty talking you?” He asks, pulling back from your neck and cocking his head just slightly as he studies your face.
“I— what?” You ask, still pulling insistently at his waistband.
“I’m always the one charming the pants off of you, dear. In over ten years, it’s never really been the other way around. But you know that I love to hear your beautiful words.” He continues, moving one of his hands to stroke between your still-clothed folds.
“Astarion, please fuck me.” You try as you struggle to keep your composure. The slickness of your cunt is making obscene noises as he expertly maneuvers between your slit, watching your expression attentively as you come undone.
He chuckles darkly as he brings his lips to your breast once again, trailing kisses along the side of the flesh, “I think you can do better than that, my love.”
You groan in dismay as the bastard continues to tease you. Several months without sex and somehow you’re still the desperate one while he’s effortlessly maintaining his cool.
“What do you want daddy to do to you, darling?” He purrs, teasingly, as his other hand that isn’t stroking between your legs trails across your skin to fondle your ass once again.
“I want you to fuck me and fill me with your seed.” You whine as his ministrations on your clit become more insistent. You’re trying to play into his desires, to convince him to stretch you open with his thick cock.
Your legs are trembling now. He’s going to make you come embarrassingly fast. You know it. He knows it.
“Won’t you beg me, my love?” He murmurs as his eyes trail across your chest, admiring your larger-than-usual breasts before his gaze locks back onto yours, fingers still strumming your clit, now adding more pressure, “You know I love to hear your sweet little pleas.”
“Please— Astarion. Please, daddy. Please fuck me. Breed me like your good little wife and fill me with—“
You gasp and then moan as your orgasm rips through you with little warning, drenching your husband’s hand in your arousal. The release causes your legs to turn into jelly, and Astarion uses the opportunity to quickly maneuver you into a new position. You are sitting on the side of the bed, and he is now standing, quickly lowering his trousers.
His cock springs free, and the sight causes your eyes to widen in shock. It’s so engorged that the head is slowly turning from that gorgeous pink to a deep purple, begging for release. Thin rivulets of pre-cum are falling in strings from the tip; much of his shaft is glistening from the same evidence of his arousal.
Astarion glances down at his own erection and then warns, “It’s been a while darling, not quite certain how long I will last.”
“Just get inside me already, daddy.” You plead and that’s enough to make your husband growl as he strokes his own member once, twice, prepping himself. He peels your drenched undergarments down your legs and tosses them aside.
As Astarion’s cock slides between your folds you gasp. Gods, it really has been too long. And then he’s pressing into you slowly, groaning deeply with the amount of effort it’s taking him to not release his spend right upon entry into your tight cunt. When he reaches the hilt, the elf stills for a moment and lowers himself down to kiss your lips before pressing his forehead against yours. And then Astarion is slowly rolling his hips, his mouth hanging open in a gasp at the delicious sensation of your walls clenching around him before he closes his eyes to focus.
It isn’t long before he's losing control. Your husband normally prides himself on being a consummate lover; it’s quite typical that he brings you to orgasm twice before finding his own release. But it has been quite some time and perhaps holding off in an attempt to hear your pleas wasn’t as easy for him as it appeared on the outside.
“Gods, darling. You feel so perfect.” The elf pants, almost breathless, his hips stuttering as he jerkily thrusts into you, trying and failing to maintain some rhythm as the pleasure overwhelms him, “So perfectly wet and tight.”
“Come inside me, daddy.” You whisper as you bring your hand to the side of Astarion’s face.
The command shocks him. Like you, he’s suddenly coming with very little warning. His eyes rip open as he’s spilling into you with a loud groan, his cock jerking inside your walls where he’s instinctively buried himself to the hilt.
“Fuck-- gods, Tav--" He hisses through the waves of pleasure racking his body as his eyes roll back. His thighs are trembling as his member continues to throb, spilling several streams of hot, thick seed into you as you watch his face in awe. Mouth agape, cheeks flushed. You love the way he looks when he loses control.
You smile and kiss your husband gently as he comes down from his high, your hand stroking his cheek. And then he’s laughing and pressing his forehead back against yours. A few of his curls fall haphazardly and you reach up to lovingly comb them back into place.
“You are… still full of surprises, aren’t you?” Astarion asks as he slowly withdraws from you, causing the slickness from your lovemaking to run down your thighs and into the sheets.
“I thought you would like it,” You offer shyly, now somewhat embarrassed at your own crassness as the tides of passion recede.
“Oh, I certainly did, darling.” Your lover reassures you as he bends down to retrieve his trousers from the floor, "You cheeky little degenerate."
Just then, Gale lets out a sharp cry from the nursery. You move to stand up, but your husband stops you with a gentle hand and a soft, adoring smile.
“I’ll go and get him. Don’t waste the seed still inside you, dear. Give it a few more precious moments to try and do its thing, hm?” Astarion says, partly teasing and partly serious as he shoots you a wink before heading out the bedroom door to retrieve the infant.
This one won’t take, you know as much. You aren’t ovulating. But as you watch the love of your life exit the room on his way to retrieve the other love of your life, you think you may actually be ready to start trying for another one sometime soon. You know Astarion is simply waiting for your cue.
Anything for daddy. 
648 notes · View notes
marvelsswansong · 2 years
Text
tornado warnings
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summary: out of all the girls Eddie could like, of course he'd pick Jason Carver's girlfriend. He kept ignoring the warnings, and now he's in too deep.
tags: Eddie x fem!reader, pining!Eddie, friends to lovers, requited love but both parties are idiots, Dustin trying to talk sense into Eddie, cw for Jason being a misogynistic asshole, song fic, pure fluff, slow burn ish, oneshot
☆ word count: 6.5K+ (she's worth it i promise) ☆
⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️
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It's sprialed out of control. Eddie knows that now.
It's as if he's been struck by lightning, the realization jolting him awake when your fingers deftly brush against his whilst you pass over the chemistry pop quiz. The touch lasts for less than two seconds, accompanied by a friendly smile and a quiet "good luck" thrown in, but it's enough for him to falter and almost let the paper slip from his fingers.
It reminds him of the first time you two met, late after school - you because of cheerleading practice, him because of detention.
Eddie was exhausted. Having shown up late to school with mismatched socks and his roleplaying notebook forgotten by the driver's seat of his van - not that it mattered anymore, considering he had to cancel tonight's session due to detention - he swore that the world was out to get him.
It was half past five and the spring rain was unrelenting, the pitter patter of water droplets against glass windows drowning out all other noise. Eddie scowled, not even the weather was on his side today. He'd have to make a run for it to his car, with nothing more than a floppy notebook to hold over his head.
His footsteps faltered, however, when he heard a feminine voice swear followed by the clattering of metal. Peeking his head around the corner, he was met with none other than the sight of you struggling to open up your locker, delicate fingers fumbling with the lock desperately.
"Oh for fuck's sake." you swore, trying the combination again and pulling the lock with all your strength to no avail. Dropping your duffel bag onto the floor, you tried again, this time grasping the metal lock with both your manicured hands.
No luck.
Sighing, you dropped your arms and fell forward onto your locker head first, before perking up and looking around for someone to ask for help - perhaps a janitor would know how to deal with this. Your eyes met Eddie's, and his eyes widened in an instant (fearing the worst, being caught staring wordlessly at one of the most popular girls in school) but your eyes lit up with recognition and joy.
"Hey! Eddie, right?" you called out, waving him over.
You knew his name? Eddie was simultaneously flattered and shocked, considering you two were separated by several stratospheres in the popularity pyramid. He was in your Advanced Physics class junior year before he dropped down to regular Physics, and even then you sat by the front row with the rest of the cheerleading squad whilst he doodled in his notebooks at the back.
"Do you think you could try opening up my locker for me? I left some important notes in there and my European History test is tomorrow, so I really need them." you sheepishly added, leaning against your locker. Eddie hesitated for a few seconds - was this a trick? Why were you being so nice to him? Why was the smile on your face so pure and so genuine, never once faltering?
Ignoring the sirens going off in his mind, he wordlessly nodded and walked up to your locker.
"The combination is 8-1-8-2."
He spun the dials around and tugged at the lock, but it remained stuck. He tried again, being extra careful to spin the numbers to the exact digit this time, but it still didn't budge.
"Nothing?" you questioned anxiously, peeking over from behind his shoulder. Eddie just grinned at that, hand flying to his jean front pocket to fish out an extra hairpin.
"Maybe not. Hold on."
Bending the metal pin straight, he fumbled with the little hole at the bottom of the lock, until a satisfying 'click' rang out. He was then able to finally unhook the lock and open it up to the contents of your locker - textbooks and folders spilling with notes neatly piled up at the bottom, with a Dior perfume, tube of lipstick and a jar of gummies sitting on the top shelf.
He was about to make a lighthearted joke about the gummies when the joke died in his mouth at the warm sensation of your arms wrapping around his waist, face buried in his shirt as you joyously embraced him.
"YES! Thank you so much, Eddie, you are a lifesaver!"
The sudden burst of affection was totally foreign to him and his senses were going haywire - overwhelmed at how your hair was tickling his exposed skin, your sweet scent (notes of caramel, honey and vanilla) evident but not too strong from this proximity. He fumbled over what to do with his arms, not knowing what was appropriate to do, before awkwardly settling on patting your back with his left hand.
"It's uh, no big deal." he managed to stutter out, small grin on his lips. A grin far outshined by the massive one on yours, bubbly laughter flowing as you quickly dug out the notes from your locker before slamming it shut and locking it back up.
There was another foreign sensation now beginning to register in his brain. Warmth, pleasant fires kindling in his lower stomach, an ache in his chest to have you close to him again. And his next sentence was blurted out before he could even think through all the repercussions.
"Do you need a ride home? Since it's raining and all."
"Yeah! That'd be great."
Following the locker incident, you began to wave at him and exchange quick greetings with him in the hallways. It was a minor change, a verbal acknowledgment instead of silent smiles and polite nods, but that didn't stop others from giving Eddie dirty looks. After all, why was the most popular girl in school giving any time of her day to the resident school freak?
Truth be told, he didn't understand it either. But he wasn't going to complain either, only returning the gestures wholeheartedly. This amicable state of acquaintance - knowing each other's names and being friendly, but never crossing the line into friendship - was broken less than a week later, when he was sitting in Mr.Wilson's office and being lectured about how he really needed to get his grades up.
"I've assigned you a tutor. She's one of my star students and she's kindly agreed to tutor you for free, so please do show up on time and try." the elderly man sighed under his breath, pushing his metal rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose before shuffling through a stack of papers.
"Her name's (Y/n). I'll leave the specifics of the arrangement up to the two of you, but the expectation is one session every week or two. Understood?"
"Understood, sir."
So here he was now. Standing in front of your house, double checking the address scribbled down hurriedly onto his notebook for the hundredth time, agonizing over what to do. Should he knock? Ring the door bell? He was a few minutes early, maybe it'd be best to just wait for you outside-
"Hi there!" you exclaimed, throwing open the door excitedly, making him jump back in surprise. "Come on in, we can go up to my room."
Your hands were preoccupied with drying your wet hair with a towel - it looked as if you had just emerged from the shower, the thought of which made his throat dry, a dirty sight he had to immediately scrub from his mind. Not that it worked particularly well, not when you were wearing an oversized black t-shirt that showed off your legs and the cheerleading shorts you had on hugged your thighs perfectly.
Carefully eyeing the living room and kitchen, he half expected for your parents to jump out and begin to interrogate him as to his identity.
"Are your... parents around?" he'd asked quietly, fingers anxiously twiddling by his sides. You shook your head sideways.
"My parents work out of state most of the time. My godfather drops by every few days though to make sure I'm fine though."
He raised his eyebrows at that, following behind you up the stairs.
"Doesn't that get lonely?"
You hummed, dabbing the last droplets of water from your forehead.
"I guess so. But Hopper - my godfather - has a lot of friends in the community so I get invited over to a lot of things. Plus cheerleading and school stuff keeps me pretty busy so it's not too bad."
You then pushed open the door to your bedroom with your shoulder, stepping backwards to let Eddie in first.
He marveled at how well organized your room was: sunflowers potted by the windowsill, a collection of vinyls leaning against a propped up vinyl record player playing a slow Whitney Houston song. White wardrobe pushed against the wall next to pastel pink drawers, makeup and skincare products neatly placed one after another.
Your cheerleading uniform was ironed and nicely draped over a cushy velvet chair, a full length body mirror with polaroids of you and your friends stuck to its sides on the white wooden frame.
You led him over to your study desk, pristine and white, and gestured to the chair to your left. He was still drinking in the sight of your room as you closed the door shut and hung your towel over the frame of your bed - which was complete with frilly lace sheets, pink and yellow cushions, bumblebee patterns stitched into the fabric.
In summary, Eddie thought, the whole room was so damn... clean and cute. A stark and sore contrast to his messy room, unfolded laundry everywhere and his walls crowded with his guitar and various metal band posters. He was just grateful now that he had insisted on doing the first session at your place instead of his.
"Everything okay?" you questioned, noticing his silence and awed expression. He blinked at you wordlessly at that, mind blanking in an instant.
"Yep! Amazing. Awesome, really. Just very stoked to get started on this exciting English Literature." he boasted, tapping his hand down on the thick textbook. You giggled at that, leaning against your chair.
"Listen, I know that Steinbeck and Fitzgerald aren't as exciting as Iron Maiden or Black Sabbath, but I promise you that there's a charm to these authors as well."
"You know about Iron Maiden and Black Sabbath?" Eddie perked up at that, pleasantly surprised. You rolled your eyes playfully, as if it was common knowledge.
"Duh, what else would I listen to whilst I jog? I can't say I'm as big of a fan as you, but I do listen to a bit of everything and metal is a cool genre."
It was his turn to chuckle, leaning forward onto the table to rest his head on his palms.
"You know, (L/n), you're not at all like what I'd expected you to be."
"What'd you mean by that, Munson?" you challenged, quirking up your eyebrows teasingly, his heart skipping a beat at the action.
"Nothing bad, I promise! Just, I don't know, your friends aren't as friendly or as cool as you."
You click your tongue at that, faux frown on your glossy lips.
"But aren't we friends? And you're plenty cool and friendly."
Friends. The word felt heavy on his tongue, goosebumps rising on his skin. Plus, you'd called him cool and friendly - by far the nicest thing any popular student had ever said to him. All logic flew out the window at that moment, walls tumbling down faster than the next words on his lips.
"Of course we're friends."
It was dangerous territory, a quiet voice was nagging him in the crevices of his mind that this was totally new and treacherous - accepting the friendship of the most popular and desired girl in school. The sirens were blaring in his head, red warning signs clouding his vision.
But Eddie consciously chose to turn the other way, running farther into your embrace.
"Cool. Glad to hear it, friend."
Once the initial hurdle was jumped over, the label of 'friends' hanging over you and Eddie, everything fell into place. Weeks flew by with tutoring sessions filled with inside jokes and excited ramblings, with Eddie taking every chance to insert a dirty joke in somehow to make you laugh.
He walked you from class to class at your insistence, your sharp glare at any staring passerbys enough to shut them up. Conversation was never awkward, there was plenty to talk about. His D&D sessions, the latest Metallica record, the next football game that Eddie would begrudgingly turn up to (but ultimately always would, just to be able to hug you in celebration afterwards).
It was all platonic, he told himself. Sure, he thought you were pretty and fun, but that didn't mean anything. He had it all under control, he reasoned, no, insisted. He was feigning igornace, arguing with his inner voice that it was all just excitement and nerves over having a friend who was popular.
"A lot on your mind?" you asked him a few months later, tongue swiping across the top of your ice cream, legs uncrossing underneath your cheerleading uniform.
You'd insisted on celebrating his first A in English Literature by going out for ice cream - "it's on me" you'd added, making it impossible to say no. It was a sizzling hot summer day and both of you were seeking refuge under the shade of a large willow tree, sitting on the roof of Eddie's van with him only a few inches separated from you.
'Yes.' Eddie wanted to say. 'I can't stop thinking about you.' he wanted to confess. 'I hear your laughter whilst I fold my clothes. I see you in the corner of my eyes everywhere I go, laying on my sofa with your legs dangling off the armrest, smiling at me in the rearview mirror from the backseat of my car.'
But he didn't say that.
"Not really. Just still reeling from the fact that I got an A." he joked, choosing to suppress his inner thoughts.
"Aw, well, you're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for, Eds. This is just the beginning, I know it."
Humming, he shot you a quick wink.
"I'll take your word for it, doll."
Both of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, until a loud shriek was heard from inside the ice cream store. A girl Eddie vaguely recognized from one of his classes was nodding fiercely and hugging her boyfriend close, making his eyebrows raise in piqued curiosity.
"Oh, probably just a promposal for the dance next week." you commented lazily, tongue flicking at the top of your cone.
"Are you... going?" Eddie tested the waters, eyes cautiously picking apart your reaction.
"Yeah, I am! Jason's being really difficult about the color palette we're matching as though. He wants pink and blue, I'd rather we do yellow and blue or pink and white."
Eddie's vision flashed white at the mention of Jason's name, bone chilling cold seeping through his chest.
"Jason as in... Jason Carver?"
You nodded, and the pain he felt upon seeing the fond smile that spread across your lips instantly felt worse than a million needle pricks at his heart.
"That's him. He can be kind of difficult at times but... he's my boyfriend and I love him, you know?"
Eddie knew he'd never have a chance with you. He never deluded himself into that fantasy, but now it was confirmed, written in clear black and white: you were taken. Not only that, but you loved Jason Carver. He was your boyfriend.
It made total sense. How had Eddie not noticed it before? Perhaps you had mentioned it to him previously, an off the cuff comment here and there, but Eddie wasn't listening carefully. Too intoxicated on your quiet giggles, too busy admiring the golden sunlight kissing your hairline.
It was impossible to prevent the smile from dissipating from his face, a forced grin instead replacing his genuine warm smile.
"Yeah. Makes sense, I guess."
"How about you, Eds?" you excitedly asked, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Anyone caught your eye that you want to take to the dance?"
It burned his mouth to respond, heart throbbing, fingers strained by his sides.
"Yeah, but uh... I don't think I'll be able to make it, so I'm not going to ask her."
You frowned at that and there were a few drops of strawberry ice cream hanging from your lips, which Eddie reached out to wipe away with his thumb instinctively.
"S-sorry." he muttered out, retracting his hand quickly as if he'd been burnt.
"Yeah, you better be." Jason barked out from behind Eddie, making him straighten up in alarm, not having heard Jason's car pull into the parking lot.
The jock glared at Eddie as he walked around to wrap a possessive arm around your waist, pulling you right against his figure. Your widening smile was unmissable, so was the way you kicked your legs forward in delighted joy when Jason suddenly swooped down and pressed a harsh kiss against your lips.
Eddie awkwardly averted his gaze as Jason continued to glare at the metalhead from over your shoulder, deepening the kiss possessively, his vice grip only loosening from your waist when you patted him on the back indicating that you needed air.
"Ready to go, babe?" Jason asked, not even missing a beat. You nodded, scrunching up the paper cup in your hands and throwing it away to the nearest bin.
"I'll catch you round?" you asked cheerfully, linking your hands with Jason and shooting Eddie a hopeful smile. The smart answer to give would've been to make up an excuse, to cut the friendship there and for good - especially with how Jason was steaming with anger next to you, blue icy eyes narrowing in on Eddie's figure.
There was a storm brewing, toxic smoke billowing into the air. But Eddie stood there, unwavering, only nonchalantly rolling back his shoulders and winking at you.
"Yep. See you round."
Jason's hatred for Eddie only intensified as time went on - you'd tagged along to a D&D session once and the jock found you leaning over Eddie mid-dice roll, metal ring clad fingers on top of yours as he guided you. Eddie waited for you after school whenever you had late practice to drive you back home, only for Jason to then pop out of nowhere and insist on driving you home (though he lived in the opposite direction from you).
"I don't fucking trust you, freak." Jason once spat the moment you ran off to the bathroom, leaving the two men to be standing around your locker. "I don't know what the fuck my girlfriend sees in you, but you better not be dragging her into any of your shit."
Eddie clenched his jaw, fists grasping and ungrasping by his sides in an attempt to control his anger.
"Relax, Carver. We're just friends."
Jason just rolled his eyes at that, stepping forward threateningly.
"Yeah, friends. Just don't get your dick hard thinking she's yours. She shouldn't be wasting her time on you anyways."
Eddie's blood boiled at the way the basketball player talked about you, wanting to control and dictate everything you did.
"She's not property for you to fucking control, jackass." he retorted, only succeeding in causing Jason's nostrils to flare with fury.
"I'm back, and I- Oh." you paused, noticing the tension lingering in the air and the defensive postures. "Is everything alright?"
The boys stared at each other silently, hatred still tinging the air, but it all melted into fake smiles on both their faces when turning to you.
"Yep." they both affirmed.
"Everything's... perfect. Just as it should be." Jason slowly drawled, eyeing Eddie up and down. It was a threat, an alarm bell ringing right by his ears. It dawned on Eddie that this was becoming unavoidable now, the mess that he was in, his love for you an unstoppable tornado.
It was incredibly reckless to continue to be friends with you. But god, it felt so damn good.
So out of selfish nature or not, Eddie didn't pull away. He chose to clutch on to you tighter, grit his teeth harder, damn all the consequences that would follow. He'd wander closer into the eye of the storm, wholeheartedly and willingly, all for you.
Though Jason wasn't silent about his unhappiness over your friendship with Eddie, you never let it affect you. So Eddie continued to be your friend, maybe even best friend at this point after six months, what in between Saturday movie nights and late evening talks on the bleachers after practice.
Eddie forced himself to be content with being your go-to platonic company: of helping you pick out a dress for your date with Jason whilst leaning against the headboard of your bed, carrying your things for you at school as you rushed to class after cheerleading practice, laughing with you over a pack of cheep bear in someone's backyard during a loud house party.
It hurt - doing all the things couples did, but under the label of friendship and under Jason's persistent gaze. After all, Eddie was the one to hold your hair back when you'd had too much to drink at the end of year summer party, helping to wipe your mouth with a stray towel and gently guiding a water bottle to your lips.
Your boyfriend was nowhere to be seen, having ditched you the moment his fellow basketball players called him over. It made Eddie furious, how it seemed Jason only wanted you as a trophy to show off to the school before abandoning you in favor of his friends, but you seemed to be blind to it.
Besides, Eddie reasoned, who was he to intervene? Overall, you were happy, right?
The metalhead wasn't even in the bathroom with you for more than three minutes when Jason came pummeling through the door, chest heaving with anger upon having been told that you were seen stumbling into an empty bathroom with Eddie 'the freak' Munson.
The jock never said it - at least in front of Eddie - but it was clear that he suspected something more than friendship, you two always tilting dangerously close into romantic territory. Jason ordered Eddie out, insisting that you were in need of your boyfriend instead of him, and with a heavy heart Eddie sighed and wandered back into the party.
He still thought about you the rest of the night though, no matter how many jaegar bomb shots he downed.
Come autumn, and it wasn't just Jason who saw what was going on. At this point, you were beloved by everyone in the Hellfire Club and you'd even swung by Eddie's trailer multiple times. Wayne and the kids would all tease Eddie for his clear infatuation with you, which Eddie would vehemently deny, though he knew deep down they were right.
"So are you ever going to admit that you like her?" Dustin teased, knocking his shoulder into the older boy's.
They were sitting on the railings of the skate park, the boys having lost a game of rock-paper-scissors with Max to pick between going to the arcade or to the skate park. The redhead was busy coaching you on how to skate - your legs wobbly on the skateboard as Max held onto your arms, wide amused smiles on both your faces - whilst Lucas and Mike ran off to the corner store to get some water.
"What, (Y/n)?" Eddie tried to play dumb.
"Duh, who the hell else?" Dustin retorted, appalled that his friend would even try to feign ignorance.
Both boys picked up their heads at the sound of loud laughter, your back on the pavement as you seemingly fell, Max laughing so hard that she had tears in her eyes and was hunched over to clutch her stomach. The fond smile gracing Eddie's lips was instantaneous- you were always so good with the kids, they all adored you. The boys pestered you for gaming tips, Max and you bonded over music, Erica thought you were the "coolest adult" she knew.
It made Eddie fall even deeper for you, his heart now fully in the eye of the hurricane. You were ripping down all his walls, your laughter destructive and haunting. You left him dizzy and stumbling through the hallways, heart heavy with infatuation, lips aching to be on yours.
"There. Right there." Dustin commented, pointing right at Eddie's face. "You get that stupid grin on your face whenever she smiles or talks or shit, does anything really. We all have bets on when you're finally gotta make a move, so when are you?"
Eddie shoved off the curly haired boy, fingers scrambling to brush off the sleeves of his jacket in false boredom.
"For the millionth time, Henderson, she has a boyfriend. Said boyfriend, who by the way, hates me and frankly I don't feel like being a homewrecker." he spat, venom dropping from his voice at the thought of Jason. Letting out a short exhale, he flashed the younger boy a tired smile.
"Besides, we've been friends for like, what, over half a year now? The ship has sailed, I've got no chance."
"You're just saying that because you don't see the way she looks at you." the younger boy insisted. "Seriously. Friends don't look at each other like that."
Eddie had nothing to say to that, you looking up from the opposite site of the skate park to wave at the two boys with delight, which they both quickly returned. The fluttering in Eddie's stomach was easy to anticipate at this point, as was the heavy pang in his heart at the realization that Jason would be coming to pick you up in a short bit.
"She's just being nice, Dustin." Eddie muttered, running a shaky hand through his hair.
You looked ethereal whilst skating, so carefree, hair flowing in the wind as your knees bent and braced for the dip off the edge. Fading red orange sunlight accentuating the dip and curve of your facial features, autumn foliage stuck in your messy hair.
You'd come into his life, a tornado, and destroyed his whole being. He was wandering alone now, knees brushing up against green fields with nothing but trees surrounding him, but Eddie didn't mind.
So long as he got to continue to watch you smile like that.
Cut to the present, Eddie's mindlessly filling out the pop quiz, brain still fuzzy from your touch lingering over his skin, ghostly yet ever so present. The rest of the class flies by and it's the end of the school day, so Eddie quickly moves to shove his things into his bag, crushing all his paper notes with the haste with which he does so.
"Any plans for tonight?" you ask, tossing your bag over your shoulder.
It's Friday night, which to everyone else means parties and fancy dinners, but to Eddie it usually means going back to the trailer and watching a rerun of a shitty sitcom over a bowl of microwave mac and cheese. Not that he'll tell you that, though.
"Not really. Why, up for another spontaneous drive through town?" he teases, heart fluttering hopefully. You sigh and shake your head sideways.
"Can't - Jason's taking me out on a date, but... rain check for maybe next Friday?" you question, peeking up from your lashes.
"Sure, next Friday." the bitter smile and forced ambivalence to his tone is painful, but it's a dull ache he's made peace with at this point. "If anything changes, you know where to find me." Eddie jokes, cocking his head to the side.
And unexpectedly, things do change.
In the blink of an eye, it seems.
Eddie's mid-way through the rented copy of Evil Dead, hands stuck in a greasy bowl of popcorn as he lies chest down on the sofa, blue light from the television illuminating his tired face, until someone bangs against his trailer door furiously.
Jumping up at the sudden loud noise, he pauses the VHS tape, abandoning his bowl of popcorn on the couch before throwing open the door.
It's you, mascara running down your cheeks, arms crossed over your chest, clutching at your skin so harshly that the baby blue dress you're wearing bunches at your waist.
"I broke up with him." is the first thing you say, voice shaky, body still trembling. "He said some, fuck, awful things, Eds. Really awful things. I had no choice and I know it was the right thing to do but-"
Your voice breaks as another wave of tears overwhelms you.
"But then why does it still hurt?"
Eddie's quick to shush you and envelope you into his arms, not caring that your makeup is probably smudging against his shirt, his hands coming up to comfortingly cradle your head against his chest. Your body trembles with every sob that escapes your lips and Eddie presses a soft kiss to your hairline, wishing nothing more than to take your pain away from you.
His mind is whirring with a million different things to say to you, but your comfort is on the forefront of his mind above all.
"Hey... have you ever been to the park by Saint Street? You know, the one with the playground." he quietly suggests, pulling away slightly.
You look up at him, confused, wiping your eyes.
"I don't think so, why?"
Picking up the jean jacket thrown over his kitchen counter, he digs out his car keys from the side pocket and extends his left hand out for you to grab.
"Because. We should go. It's impossible to be sad at a playground."
It's a stupid thing to say, childish even, but it does the job of putting a smile back onto your face, your cold hands grasping his warm ones. It's a quick drive - no less than 15 minutes - but he can't help but look over at you at every intersection and red light, making sure that you're okay.
He jumps out first to open the car door for you before helping you climb over the metal fence - "no one comes by, I swear" he assures you - shaky feet meeting dead leaves and dirt, he's quick to tug you towards the swing set.
He refuses to let you talk - "play first, until you stop crying" - and he insists on pushing you on the swing as high as he can. He chases you down the slides then races you to the top of the jungle gym, drunk off of your bubbly laughter and the way your eyes twinkle in the moonlight.
Neither of you know how much time has passed before you two sit across from each other on the seesaw, ribs hurting from the lack of oxygen. You can faintly make out Eddie's features in the dark - moonlight illuminating his curls, amused grin on his handsome face (the same face you've been unable to stop thinking about for the past few months).
"So what'd Jason say?" Eddie asks, leaning forward. "But only if you wanna talk about it, of course." he clarifies.
You let out a slow exhale, nodding tiredly.
"No, no, you... you deserve to know. Jason was on edge at the restuarant - I didn't think much of it, he's always a bit on edge - but he just went crazy today. Like, the moment the waiter left he started screaming at me, accusing me of cheating on him."
"Cheating on him?" Eddie strains his neck with the speed with which he picks his head up to stare at you, wide mouthed. "You? You would never!"
You scoff at that, thumbs anxiously twiddling on your lap.
"I know. That's what I tried to tell him but he wouldn't hear it. Just kept on going and on about how I was clearly in love with-" you stop yourself then, the gravity of the situation falling into place like dominoes.
You just broke up with your boyfriend of nearly a year. You came to Eddie crying, showing up at his doorstep in a heartbeat. Now you two are staring at each other in the park, leaned over opposite sides of a fucking seesaw, pouring each other's feelings out into the chilly winter air.
"With who?" he furrows his eyebrows and you almost want to laugh at how oblivious he is. You suppose maybe you've been hiding it well - well enough for Eddie to not notice how your touch has always lingered a bit too long on his skin, how your head so easily found home in the crook of his neck, how you began to prioritize meeting up with him over your fellow cheerleaders.
But not well enough for Jason, eagle eyed and jealous, constantly hovering over your interactions with Eddie and deluding himself with the gossip around school that you'd gone further than that.
"You."
It's whispered, heart falling to the bottom of your stomach at the confession now lingering in the open, cold and heavy.
"M-me?" Eddie stutters, clearly taken back. You lick your lips, chapped and dry, your shaky breaths coming out in small whisps of white smoke.
"Yeah. Jason insisted that it was clear that I was cheating on him with you and that we were spending way too much time to be just friends, and he... he called me a lying slut. Straight up. Screamed that I was whore to my face, demanded to know how many times we fucked behind his back."
"W-we never even kissed!"
"Yeah, I know." you chuckle sadly, shaking your head sideways, blinking away new tears which spring to your eyes. "But Jason didn't believe me. I dumped him, left him with the check and... I don't know, didn't feel like going home to an empty house. And I just... all I could think about was how much I wanted to see you."
Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. So he takes the safe route, nodding sympathetically and flashing you a small grin.
"Well, I'm glad that you did. I hope me dragging you to the playground wasn't the wrong thing to do." he teases, attempting to lighten the heavy mood. It works, soft grin tugging at your face.
"Yeah it definitely wasn't. Coming here was perfect."
The night breeze blows against your bare shoulders and it hits you that you really aren't dressed for the outside. Even if winter is only beginning to slowly roll in, it's still chilly enough to see your breath in front of your eyes in puffs of smoke and you've been sitting still on this seesaw for a while. So Eddie steps off to shrug off his jacket, musky earth tones warming your senses as he places it carefully around your shoulders.
"Thanks." you mutter, fingers grasping the lapels of the fabric.
"Don't mention it." he responds, waving you off.
A few beats of silence pass and then you throw your head back, staring up at the night sky full of stars.
"You know, weirdly though, I'm kind of relieved."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Deep down, I knew it wouldn't last. Too many red flags, you know? I just keep on ignoring them because... I don't know, really. Don't like change."
"I get that."
"God, feelings suck." you chuckle, shaking your head sideways. "Don't they? Pining, infatuation, love."
Eddie hums, nodding along.
"I'm there with you. For example-" he pauses. He's staring the storm right in the eye now, he has to made a decision.
He's tired of running, he decides.
"The girl I've been fawning over for almost a year now has been totally blind to my love for her and I'm exhausted." he makes it a point to stare straight at you with an unwavering intensity. "But she's worth it."
It's a shot in the dark but there's a surge of courage and adrenaline pumping through his veins, and the dark makes him more bold. He blames it on the wind rush, the night high, how beautiful you look in that velvet blue dress.
"She sounds like a very lucky girl." you choke out, mind blanking unexpectedly. Eddie nods and walks up towards you slowly, your throat running dry under the intensity of his stare.
"Yeah, and she's incredible, too. Head cheerleader. Great English Literature tutor. So funny, so kind, so damn beautiful, especially in blue. Great with kids, loved by my uncle, and I just heard-" his left hand comes over to brush up against your cheek. "That she's single. Funny how things work out like this, huh?"
You nod wordlessly, entranced by his warm brown eyes.
"It is."
You stand up cautiously, never once breaking eye contact with him, leaning in closer and closer. Eddie's expecting you to pull away from him in any instant, disgust springing onto your face or apologies falling from your lips, but you remain still. Your lashes fluttering shut is the last sign he needs before he commits to closing the gap and kissing you squarely on your lips, knocking the cold air out from your lungs.
It's a cold night but his skin's on fire, left hand springing up to cup your chin, other hand supporting your neck as he tugs you in even closer. You taste like cherry chapstick and smell like French perfume, velvet fabric brushing up against his arms as he backs you up against a park bench.
It's a messy kiss, all teeth and tongue, but he can't give a fuck. Not when his heart is soaring, fingertips electric, mind hazy at the realization that he is finally kissing his dream girl after a whole year of pining.
"Holy shit." you manage to say when you two pull apart, hair slightly messied and lips wet and plump.
"I hope that's a good holy shit, princess." Eddie teases, the nickname causing your stomach to flutter with butterflies.
"It's a good holy shit. A really good holy shit." you confirm, nodding fiercely. You both laugh at that, warmth blossoming across both your chests.
"W-why didn't you ever say anything?" you stutter out, head still reeling from the passionate kiss.
"I wanted to. God, I wanted to so many times. I knew I was falling for you from the beginning, all these little indicators and signs and the intrusive thoughts. But I kept on ignoring them and by the time I realized I loved you, I knew you were with Jason and you two seemed happy. And I didn't want to be selfish and intrude on your happiness like that."
He tugs you down onto his lap, sitting both your bodies down on the metal bench. Your hands come up to carress his cold cheeks, trembling thumbs rubbing up and down his jawline, eyes admiring the freckles on his nose and the specks of moonlight in his hair.
"Well, no need to ignore those warnings anymore, huh?" you say quietly, voice heavy with adoration.
He just nods, head falling forwards to rest on your chest, hearing your soft heartbeat through velvet fabric.
"Absolutely."
Eddie ignored the tornado warnings.
But in the wreckage, you two found each other, hands desperately grasping each other's in the darkness.
Burrowing his head into the crevice of your neck, he's content to stay with you in the aftermath of the disaster, so long as you continue to grip onto him like this.
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a/n: this was based on the song with the same title by Sabrina Carpenter! Please go stream and support her new album, 'emails I can't send', it is fantastic and there are so many other bangers on the album.
Speaking of which, the way that the metaphor of the tornado is used in the song is kinda different from how I used it here but idk, I thought it was a cute concept and the song motivated me to write it haha. Not sure how this fic will be received but I loved writing it :)
8K notes · View notes
spdrvyn · 11 months
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TSUNDERE MIGUEL O'HARA THAT IS DENYING HIS FEELINGS FOR READER WHILE HE ACTIVELY THINKS ABOUT THEM 24/7 AND KNOWS ALL THEIR CUTE LITTLE QUIRKS (READER CAN BE SPIDERMAN OR NORMAL PERSON YOUR CHOICE) PLEASE I NEED TRUNDERE MIGUEL SO MUCH IM DYING IM STARVING *sob sob cry sob*
love, your best friend Dre <3
i won't say i'm in love — MIGUEL O'HARA
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(( uhhh .... i have no clue who this motherfucker is! jk lol hi tommy [ you slut ] here is your severely in denial miguel fic, spoiler free. ))
"Lyla, arrange this mess."
Miguel waved his hand at the AI, eyes focused on the glowing screen in front of him. He always had the habit of keeping a messy desktop, though it wasn't a big problem for him considering his trusty artificial intelligence assistant.
To which the trusty artificial intelligence would poke and tease Miguel in response. At times, he really wondered if Lyla was secretly being controlled by a human. A pesky, occasionally annoying, childish human that constantly pushed his buttons.
"What's the magic word, Miguel?"
He groaned bringing his index finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose, massaging the stress lines that have formed from constantly being teased and played with.
"...Please."
Lyla lets out an electric hum, her avatar glitching into a thinking pose. She stares at Miguel with a confused look through her heart-shaped sunglasses. "Sorry. The signal in here is so bad. What was that?"
"I said, please, Lyla. Get to work."
"Oh, don't worry. I heard you the first time."
The man lets out a defeated sigh, he's given up on trying to defend himself against Lyla. Even when he's old and withered, this charade will continue like a never-ending circus show.
Multiple screens pop up in front of the AI, to which Miguel bashfully averts his gaze. He's normally organized enough, in the workplace but he's also very busy. Little things like putting files in the folders they belong simply evades his mind sometimes.
However, one file in particular stood out in front of him from the corner of his eye. It was a drive, among all the others that are colored in the regular shade of blue and labeled accordingly, this one was highlighted in pink with a little heart symbol at the end.
"Lyla, what's that?"
Her avatar glitches again into her in a sitting position, a little teacup in her hands as she takes a fake sip. "Hmm? I don't know, I don't see anything. Which one are you talking about?"
"Ay dios mío... The one in pink, Lyla. What is it?"
"Ohhh..." An obviously fake display of surprise makes itself present on Lyla's face, she opens the file. "This is a drive of all of the times you talked about that recruit. Lovingly, might I add."
Miguel's eyes darted around the screen, folding his arms over his chest. There were many, many videos of him. The scroll bar just kept going like there was no end.
Hesitantly, he pointed to one among the sea of videos and Lyla opened it. The playback goes as follows, the 'recording' is from her perspective, it seems.
Miguel is hunched over his desk, mumbling nonsense to himself until it becomes more coherent as Lyla approaches him.
"Whatcha' got there?"
The camera shifts and zooms over to Miguel's hand, to where he's holding a small tupperware. Filled to the brim with baked goodies, a small sticky note is pasted to the top of it however the writing is too tiny to make anything of it.
'They got me a gift.'
'That's the third one this week.'
His chest heaves as he lets out a deep sigh.
'...I know.'
A small moment of silence before Miguel continues speaking.
'Esto es tan tonto. I don't why they keep bringing me these... these things! I don't know why they keep smiling brighter than sun when they give them to me!'
Miguel frustratingly opens the tupperware, brings one of the pastries close to his mouth and takes a big bite. A small groan escapes his throat.
'I don't know what they're putting in these things to make them so delicious! Giving them to me, of all people. Stupid, stupid, stupid. So smart they are. Agile, strong, and capable and— and kind...'
Another bite.
'You know that you've gotten them gifts before, right?'
'But they all look idiotic next to this. Made with their precious time and care. Putting in the effort to make sure that they actually taste good and they do,'
Miguel closes the tupperware with a loud snap.
'¿A quién estoy engañando? They're amazing.'
"Miguel?"
That wasn't part of the recording. Miguel swipes at the screen and it fades out of existence, little pixels hovering in his sight before it completely disintegrates. Lyla disappears too as you swing onto the platform of his office.
He tenses up once he sees you, leaning a hand against his desk. God, he definitely did not want to look at you after what he just watched. He especially did not want to look at you because of the blush that stained his cheeks. Thankfully, mostly hidden by the darkness of his chambers.
Of course, you greeted him with the same warm smile.
"Haven't seen you all day today. Are you doing alright?"
"Fine. Doing fine. Just cleaning, why are you here?" Says Miguel, he despised how his heart pounded in his chest so loudly right now. Whenever he was around you.
Being so composed was what he was known for, what he was respected for. Yet, everytime you even look in the same direction as him, his exterior just melts.
"I just wanted to check in on you, was all. I noticed you haven't come out in a while, I brought you an empanada from the cafeteria just in case you were hungry."
You toss the small container to him and he catches it in one hand, he could hardly comprehend what was going on right now. Staring mindlessly at the box. "Thank you."
"Of course. Take care of yourself for me, I'll... head out now."
He watches over the edge as you fall off the platform, landing onto ledge that separates his desk from the rest of the room.
"Can you start ranting now? I want to get this drive up to 600 videos."
Miguel grumbles, opening the box and biting into the delectable snack before going back to organizing his desktop.
3K notes · View notes
welcometomyoasis · 2 months
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Petrichor | Joshua Hong
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Synopsis: Joshua Hong has felt inexplicably drawn to you since the first time he saw you. Alas, he was betrothed to another. Against his better judgment, Joshua still allows himself to get close to you. When you start to fall for him too, what happens then?  Pairing: naiad! joshua x human g/n! reader (ft. spirit of opportunity! platonic minghao x reader, cameo by cupid! jeonghan, mention of god of time, chronos! seungcheol) Genre: greek mythology au, ancient athens au, forbidden love, fluff, angst Word count: 26.6k words Warnings: loss of vision, discrimination, greek deities, insecurities, blood, slight profanity, toxic relationship (Joshua’s betrothed is a b*tch), dehumanisation (because of Joshua’s betrothed. She calls him pet), mention of mutilation (again it’s the betrothed) , violence, food, slightly suggestive, fainting and sickness (reader gets sick), nicknames (darling, bunny)  Note: I’m including the preview in this version of the full fic because it flows better. I also apologise in advance if there are any spelling/ grammatical errors.  A/n: Once again, thank you Yena @fairyhaos for inspiring this fic! And a huge thank you to @wonijinjin, @brownsugarbaybee, @wheeboo and @slytherinshua for listening to me ramble about this fic ❤️ I hope I’ve done this trope justice and I’m really sorry for the wait. As always, feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!! Thank you ❤️
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ᨒ Petrichor (noun): the scent of the earth after rain. Some would describe the scent as distinctively earthy, pleasant, and sweet. 
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
The situation that Joshua Hong found himself in was one he never expected. The whole thing was ironic really. As a naiad, a water nymph, he knew that mortals, humans specifically, would be inexplicably drawn towards him should they ever lay eyes on him. In fact, much to Joshua’s annoyance, there were several occasions where he had to avoid some rather unsavoury characters. 
Yet this time, the tables were turned. Here Joshua was, crouched behind some foliage near the creek he presided over just so he could observe this one human from afar. There was something about this human that inexplicably drew Joshua towards them. He was completely enamoured and fascinated by everything about them. 
They became a regular sight at the creek over the past few months. Joshua remembered the first time he laid eyes on them. It was a balmy morning in spring. He had just finished his duty of directing some fresh water to a nearby town. When he returned to the creek, the human was there, sitting on a sky blue picnic mat crafting an intricate looking object. He remembered being struck by the sheer brightness in the human’s eyes. Literally and figuratively. Their eyes glistened under the sunlight, reflecting the sparkles from the water’s surface. At the same time, their eyes were full of life. They told Joshua everything about the human’s appreciation for their surroundings, their life, and most of all their determination to live life to the fullest. Joshua was in awe. That was the first time he ever saw such striking eyes. 
Since then, Joshua felt as if there was a magnet pulling him closer to the human. Overtime, Joshua began noticing other details about the human. They would always visit the creek on the weekends, often staying for hours at a time. They would simply sit on the picnic mat reading or making those intricate looking crafts. There were even instances when they would pluck the tiny flowers around the creek to make flower crowns. He even noticed some of the human’s quirks. Like how their eyes would crinkle slightly, or how there would be a ghost of a smile on their face when they read something funny or accomplished something. They would also crinkle their nose and furrow their brows when they were concentrating. One thing Joshua definitely picked up on, was that the human was always alone. This puzzled him immensely. Weren’t humans supposed to be social creatures? 
Eventually, the amount of time Joshua was spending observing the human began to drive him crazy. Sure, he could partially blame the fact that naiads were naturally curious creatures. But he knew that the attraction he felt went beyond the confines of rational curiosity. This was infatuation, obsession even. In Joshua’s attempt to figure out what this attraction was, he approached his acquaintance, a relative of Cupid, Yoon Jeonghan, to ask if he was hit by yet another one of Jeonghan’s infamous stray arrows. To his disappointment, Joshua was not. (Jeonghan adamantly insisted that “using arrows is soooo 2 centuries ago” although he cheekily admitted that he did randomly shoot love arrows into the air “just for the fun of it”.)
Still, Jeonghan did give him a somewhat useful piece of advice. Infatuation. Love. Jeonghan explained that these feelings were complicated. There was usually much more nuance that needed to be teased out when attraction was involved. Especially in this case where the attraction was one-sided (for now anyway). Simply put, Joshua had either really fallen for this human, or there was something about this human that he longed for. Something that sparked an intense sense of desire and curiosity within him, like a personality trait or the human’s way of life. Perhaps it was a bit of both possibilities? 
Whatever it was, Joshua would need to figure that out for himself. Outwardly, Joshua cursed Jeonghan’s advice, thinking that it was just like a relative of Cupid to tell people to keep spying on humans like a creep from the sidelines. However, deep down, he knew Jeonghan was right. His desire, his need to decipher this complex feelings of attraction for the human was overwhelming. That human lit a fire within him, and he needed to quell those flames before it completely consumed his life. 
So, Joshua (rather reluctantly) continued his routine. He hid behind the foliage, and he watched. 
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
When you emerged from the shade of the dense forest, the warmth and light of the mid-morning sun welcomed you. Taking a moment to recenter yourself after the somewhat strenuous trek to your destination, you closed your eyes. Reopening your eyes, you were once again greeted with the most picturesque landscape before you. 
Sure, it might seem like another open field of grass next to a creek. A sight that was not uncommon in the rural forested areas surrounding the Athenian capital. But this place was different. There was something about this particular field of grass next to this creek that was absolutely mesmerising. You shouldn’t be surprised. Afterall, the gods lived on Mount Olympus which overlooked Greece. The scenery should be befitting for the gods to lay their eyes upon. Regardless, no matter how many times you visited this place, you were always enthralled by the scenery. 
The field of grass was extremely luscious. You loved to feel the blades of grass brushing against your fingertips. They were soft, almost feathery. Tiny flowers were scattered across the entire field, providing subtle pops of different colours to the otherwise uniform vibrant emerald colour of the grass. You were also treated to the sight of butterflies. Besides the occasional rustling of the foliage, if it was silent enough, you swore that you could almost hear their wings fluttering as they flew across the field towards the mountains that lay in the background. Sometimes, when you arrived early, you would be treated to the sight of the majestic mountains that were shrouded in the morning mist slowly clear, allowing the sun to peak out from between the mountain peaks. 
You always loved the way that the streaks of the sun’s rays would descend upon this little oasis. They illuminated the whole area with a gentle, golden glow, making the whole space look ethereal. You liked to think that the sun god Helios paid extra attention to illuminating this field because it was so secluded, so untouched from civilisation. 
You especially adored the way that the sun’s rays were reflected on the creek. This was certainly the clearest, bluest waters you had ever seen. Where others saw water, you saw alluring pale blue crystals that sparkled and twinkled underneath the sun’s rays which danced gracefully across the surface of the water. Even when the light breeze brushed against the water, the ripples simply created another bewitching performance for you. You could spend hours watching the water, entranced by the beauty of it all. 
However, you had to admit that you loved the scent that blanketed this area more than anything. You would inhale deeply, savouring the fresh air. The air was such a stark contrast to the stuffy air you were usually surrounded by in the Athenian capital. While you could detect the crisp, fresh odor of pine from the forest, it was faint compared to the scent being emitted from the open field of grass next to the creek that lay before you. The scent was distinct. It was sweet, pleasant, and had an element of earthiness to it. If you could liken the scent to anything, it would be the scent that lingered in the air right after there was a bout of rain, or the scent of the morning dew that always lingered on the grass and flowers. Petrichor. Yes, that was the word used to describe this scent. 
As your eyes drifted over the landscape, and you inhaled the scent of petrichor that wafted through the air, a wave of peace, contentment, and emotional reprieve washed over you. Beyond that, you were overcome with a feeling of gratitude and nostalgia. Gratitude towards your friend, Minghao, for pushing you to find this place, gratitude for being able to actually see this ethereal sight in your lifetime, and nostalgia for all the times you had spent your weekends here. You smiled softly, allowing yourself to embrace all these emotions all at once. There was no need to repress any emotions here. You could just let go. Here, you were alone. Alone but free and happy. 
Yes, you thought to yourself, this field was a sacred space for you. A sanctuary, an escape where you could rest, heal, and seek refuge from the chaos of daily life. 
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
Once you made yourself comfortable on your picnic mat, you gazed fondly at the well-thumbed leather bound book that lay on your lap. Out of all the Greek tragedies and epics you read, you had to say that this compilation of popular Greek quotations was your favourite. Sure, you read this book multiple times over, to the point that you could recite most of the quotes by heart. But you loved the feeling of physically flipping through the pages and letting your eyes drift over the words on the paper. Running your fingers over the leather, you carefully opened the book and let yourself be immersed in the beautifully crafted words. 
You quickly lost track of how much time passed. Only when your stomach called out for food did you notice that it was already midday. Placing your book down, you turned to rummage through your woven basket for the lunch you packed. As you did so, you accidentally nicked the palm of your hand on one of the unfinished crafts inside. You hissed at the stinging sensation, quickly pulling your hand out to inspect the damage. You sighed when you saw a tiny cut across your palm. It wasn’t deep, but it started to draw a bit of blood. 
Unbeknownst to you, someone had been watching you all morning. It was Joshua. He was silently observing you from his usual spot behind the foliage. Currently, he was lost in his thoughts wondering why you were reading the same book again. Today was probably the fifth time that he’s seen you bring the book to the creek. When you placed your book down and turned towards your basket, Joshua stood on his tip toes while craning his neck to see the title of the book engraved on the leather cover. 
However, your hiss of pain broke Joshua’s concentration. Out of shock, he yelped and stumbled forward, fortunately regaining his balance before he fell through the foliage. Joshua’s eyes widened and he instinctively slammed his hands over his mouth to try and muffle the yelp that had already escaped him. 
You were making your way to the creek to clean your wound, but the sudden rustling of the foliage behind you caught your attention. Also, was that a yelp? Was someone else here? Turning, you stalked cautiously towards the foliage. 
Joshua did not dare to move a muscle as he heard your footsteps approach. He thought the best thing was to just stand still and pray to the deities that you would walk away. Well, today certainly was not his lucky day. In his attempt to stabilise himself, he had forgotten that he was in fact taller than the bushes that he was hiding behind. 
You eyed the black tuft of hair sticking out from between the bushes. So your suspicions proved to be correct. There was someone else here. 
“Hello? Is everything okay?” You called out. 
Joshua scrunched his face, internally cursing to the deities that they had once again let him down. He began to shuffle around trying to figure out what he should do. His brain told him that he should turn and flee, but his heart said otherwise. It was the first time Joshua had heard your voice, and his heart fluttered in response when you called out to him. This was okay, right? Meeting you would be okay. Maybe he would be able to figure out why he was so drawn to you better this way. Relenting to his heart’s desires, he steeled his nerves and tried to push his way through the foliage to meet you, which proved to be more difficult than he expected. 
Your caution turned into amusement and curiosity as a figure emerged from the bushes. Or at least was trying desperately to. It was apparent that he was struggling to disentangle himself from the bushes. He was cursing under his breath, muttering how he was not going to help the Goddess Gaia water her plants anymore. He stomped around, shoving the plants aside before finally stumbling out of the bushes.
Huffing, he pulled the twigs out of his hair, brushed the leaves off his chiton, and made sure that the gown rested comfortably on his shoulders. He readjusted the belt around his waist as well. You watched as he proceeded to angrily twirl his gold jewelry back in place, his necklace, his ring on his pinky finger, and the arm bands around his biceps. You swallowed thickly at the sight. With that build, the divine aura around him, his gold jewelry, there was no way that he was an ordinary man. His aura reminded you of Minghao’s. Perhaps he was a spirit as well? 
You were unable to keep yourself from snickering. He might be a spirit but just now, he seemed like a clumsy, stumbling fawn trying to walk.
Hearing your snickers, it finally clicked in Joshua’s mind that he was being watched. And by the entrancing human that captured his attention. He suddenly ceased his frantic readjustments and looked up at you like a deer caught in headlights. 
His wide eyes made you burst out laughing. 
Joshua’s expression softened. You were even more mesmerising up close. Your laughter was like music to his ears. Taking in your presence, Joshua’s eyes landed on the injured palm you were clutching close to your body. 
Joshua cleared his throat awkwardly, “Uhm, you should really get that cut healed.”
Sobering up quickly, you nodded, “I’ll just clean it in the creek and bandage it with a cloth that I have on me.”
When you turned towards the creek, Joshua’s hand shot out to grasp your wrist, “No… Don’t clean it in the creek… Wait… I mean… I can heal that for you if you want? Does that sound creepy. I swear I’m a naiad? Yea, you probably have never heard of a male naiad before. That explains why I’m so weak. I can’t heal big wounds or reverse curses or whatever. I’m kind of useless as a naiad. That’s what everyone else says. I can’t do anything the other naiads can… Uh…I apologise, I’m rambling again aren’t I?”
You shook your head, indicating that it was okay. He was a naiad. That explained the divine aura around him. He was definitely a cute naiad, though you felt a pinch of pity for him since that was how lowly he thought of himself. You stood there, patiently waiting for him to gather his thoughts.
Realising what he was doing, Joshua let go of your wrist. He gave you a sheepish look, “I mean… I can still heal small cuts like that… if you don’t mind of course.”
“Sure!” You chirped. 
“Really?” Joshua was dumbfounded. Why would you trust him when you both just met? 
You shrugged your shoulders and extended your injured palm out to him, “I’m y/n by the way. What’s your name? I think I should probably know the name of the handsome naiad who is going out of his way to heal me. Don’t you think so?”
Joshua flushed at your words, even your name was beautiful. Muttering that his name was Joshua, he took your hand in his, treating your hand as he would treat a delicate rose petal. A soft, warm blue light emitted from his hand enveloping yours. Soon, the cut was gone. All that was left was a faint line from where the cut was, and the strong scent of petrichor which calmed you down greatly. 
Inspecting your palm, you beamed at Joshua, “Thank you! Wow, that was amazing! I’ve never actually seen a naiad’s powers in action!” 
Joshua turned his body away from you, refusing to look you in your eyes. He couldn’t believe that you, the human he was completely enamoured with, was treating him with such kindness and gratitude. You thought he was amazing, that his powers were amazing. He had expected you to run or look at him in disgust. He didn’t make a good first impression on you with his stumbling and rambling. Plus, he had basically blurted out all his flaws, his insignificance compared to other naiads. 
Sensing Joshua’s discomfort, you tried to tone down your excitement. Trying to convey as much sincerity as you could in your voice, you said, “really Joshua. Thank you, I really mean it.”
Joshua fiddled with the hems of his chiton. Then, he lifted his head and whispered, “no problem.”
You observed Joshua’s nervous disposition, finding yourself unable to look away. There was something about Joshua, something that made you want to find out more about him, something that made you want to spend time with him. Obviously, there was the physical attraction you felt towards him. Joshua was incredibly attractive. His black undercut made his otherwise gentle eyes look more piercing, as if he was staring right into your soul. But the corners of his lips curled upwards, softening his appearance. His muscles were made more prominent by the golden armbands that rested on his biceps. 
Joshua’s physical appearance screamed strength. Yet, you could discern that within him, there was inner turmoil, deep seeded sadness, hopelessness and self-loathing. You chalked it up to being the accumulation of emotional scars over the years, left by the sharp swords of those who had repeatedly hurled insults at him. The ones who called him a useless naiad. The ones who damaged him, ostracised him, leaving him a vulnerable shell of what he could have been. 
Your heart ached for Joshua. From personal experience, you knew that underneath all the hurt and discrimination he endured, lay a pure, innocent, soul who longed to be healed. You were determined to help him, to save him. You wanted him to find the strength to love himself, and make peace with who he was as a person, who he was as a naiad. You swore to yourself that as long as he would let you, you would stand by Joshua’s side. 
An awkward silence filled the air. Joshua shrank into himself slightly under your tender gaze, snapping you out of your thoughts. Biting your lip to reprimand yourself from staring too long, you hesitated before gesturing towards your basket, “Joshua? It’s midday right now. I was actually just about to have lunch. Please, you’re welcome to join me, I always bring extra food… and I would really love to get to know you better. However, if you’re uncomfortable with my presence, I can go and you can have the creek to yourself.” 
“Me?” Joshua pointed to himself.
“Who else here is named Joshua?” 
“Why?” Joshua breathed incredulously. 
“Why not?” You replied. 
Hearing your response, Joshua recoiled even further. It was beyond his imagination to think that a person as perfect as you would want to get to know someone as damaged as he was. He really longed to get to know you too. It’s just that this was all so embarrassing for him, and he really should not let himself get close to you. This could end badly for the two of you. He should have run earlier, he actually should run and hide right now. He was grateful that you would give him the option to choose whether he wanted you to stay or not, though you shouldn’t have to go because he was being a blushing idiot. He looked at you patiently waiting for him to give you a response while he grappled with all his emotions. 
Just as Joshua opened his mouth to excuse himself politely, his heart once again betrayed his brain. To your delight, and his horror, he blurted, “No, please don’t go. Stay. I… I would love to get to know you better too.” 𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
Wheezing, you grabbed onto Joshua’s forearm, “So the rumours were true? Narcissus is only Narcissus because that stupid cupid Jeonghan shot a love arrow into the pond where he was trying to check his reflection?”
Despite Joshua flushing at the close contact between the two of you, Joshua nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, it’s true. Stupid cupid. That’s a new name for Jeonghan. I’ll have to call him that next time.”
In the short span of three hours that you spent talking to Joshua over lunch, you had gotten more comfortable with each other. Once Joshua warmed up to you, seeing that you were really sincere in wanting to get to know you, he opened up a little. He still wasn’t quite comfortable talking about himself, but he was happy to talk about the adventures of his acquaintances. 
By now, you could safely say that you were completely enamoured with Joshua. He was so gorgeous. You loved the spark of life that lit up in his eyes when he talked about something stupid his acquaintances did (and especially when you said something funny). His laugh was melodic. You adored his little quirk of raising his clenched fist in front of his face while leaning backwards when he laughed. It was so endearing to see how the reserved chuckles turned into full blown belly laughs now that he was enjoying himself. You were definitely successful at breaking down some of his walls today. You also came to know that Joshua was hilarious, witty, and best of all, he was unpredictable in the best way possible. You thought you were about to cry laughing when Joshua placed a piece of lettuce on his head, insisting that he needed some shade from the afternoon sun. 
Squeezing Joshua’s arm one last time before letting go, you heaved a deep sigh to compose yourself. Your eyes landed on your tiny sundial. It was almost 4 in the afternoon. You pouted slightly, realising that you would soon have to part ways with Joshua. 
Noticing the change in your mood, Joshua asked, “Do you need to go soon?” 
You shook your head, “I can stay for another half an hour.” You would really be pushing it as the forest would get dark very quickly. However, anytime spent with Joshua was worth possibly getting lost in the forest.
Shaking those thoughts out of your head, you took another deep breath, relishing in the scent of petrichor that lingered in the air. Was it just you or was the scent stronger now that Joshua was right next to you? Shrugging, you let a comfortable silence envelop the two of you. 
“Y/n? Can I ask you a question before you go?” 
You let out a hum in response to Joshua. 
“How did you find this creek? It’s kind of far from the rest of Athenian civilisation.”
Musing over his question, you explained cryptically, “I guess it all started with one word, kairos.”
Joshua raised his eyebrow at that. You shifted so you were facing him, “You see, my friend, Minghao, he’s a spirit of opportunity. You’ve probably never heard of him. Long story short, I was going through some stuff, and was in desperate need of a break. When Minghao found out, all he said was that word, kairos. He explained that kairos meant the right time. He said that despite all that I was going through, it showed that it was the right time for me to get out of my comfort zone. The right time to venture out of the capital which I lived in all my life to try and find something, perhaps a place, that would help to heal me.”
You paused to gesture to the scenery around you before continuing, “As you can tell, I found this place. You can bet I really hated him at the time. Like you said, it is far from the rest of Athenian civilisation. Honestly I almost gave up when he told me I had to walk through the dense forest. But it was worth it. I don’t know how to explain it. When I was walking through the forest, it was as if there was a little voice in my head telling me to walk this way. It felt like there was a magnet drawing me to this place. Then I came across this little oasis. Minghao was right, it was the right time for me to venture out. I guess… you could say that this creek, this whole area, I didn’t find it. It found me. It healed me when I needed it the most.”
You could still remember the day Minghao told you to walk through the forest. 
“Y/n. You will find what you need when you take the opportunity to venture out of your comfort zone. Given you’re feeling this way, it’s the right time.” Minghao said exasperatedly. 
You rolled your eyes at him, “of course you would say that, you’re a spirit of opportunity.”
Finally sick of your protests, Minghao pushed you out of your house towards the path he had asked you to take, “Don’t come back until you actually try to find what you need.” Then, he added more quietly, “Y/n, please. I promise you won’t regret it.”
Seeing Minghao’s pleading eyes, you relented. If Minghao was this convinced that this walk would do you some good, you should at least try. Minghao’s advice had never steered you in the wrong direction before. Still, you grumbled as you stormed through the dense forest, pushing away the twigs and foliage out of your way. You didn’t know how long you were stalking through the forest. Letting out a frustrated growl, you were about to give up. Your feet hurt, you were tired, and all you wanted to do was go home to sleep. Just then, you saw some light streaming through the thick shade of the forest. 
It was as if the light was a rope, wrapping itself around you and pulling you in that direction. Something inside you told you that you should venture forward, just a little more. So that’s just what you did. And you’ve been coming back to this oasis ever since.
You smiled at the fond memory. You should thank Minghao once again for leading you to find this place. You did meet Joshua because of it. He’s one more attractive reason as to why you will be returning again next week, if he is agreeable to it that is. 
Joshua nodded in understanding. Since there was a naiad presiding over this creek, ie, him, it was normal that mortals would find the creek more alluring. 
You let out a regretful sigh, “I’m sorry Joshua, I really have to go now before it gets dark… I really had a good time today. With you. Would you be okay meeting again next week? You see, I return here every weekend. Only if you’re okay with it.”
You looked at Joshua hopefully. You really wanted to see him again. 
Joshua’s heart fluttered at the prospect of spending another weekend with you. While his conscience began acting up, telling him that this was a really bad idea to make it a recurring thing as you both might end up hurt or worse should she find out, against his better judgment, he elected to ignore his conscience. 
Joshua stood up, smoothened out his chiton, and held his palm out to you shyly, “Sure. I’ll be happy to. Same time and place next week?”
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
Before you knew it, a month and a half had already passed since that fateful day that Joshua stumbled (literally) into your life. “Same time and place next week?” became a routine question that you would ask each other at the end of your weekly meetings. 
During that time, you made some progress with Joshua. You were beginning to break down the walls he built to protect himself. You were happy and touched that he was now comfortable enough with you to open up a little bit more. You could tease each other, and share little stories about your daily lives. Joshua no longer lowered his head or turned away when talking to you. He would look you in the eyes and listen to your stories intently with his face scrunched in concentration (and with a light blush dusted across his cheeks). More often than not, you would both talk about your shared interests and hobbies. In one of your earlier conversations, you were overjoyed when Joshua expressed his interest in the crafts that you frequently made by the creek. As it turns out, Joshua loved to make little crafts as well, and your meetings soon turned into crafting slash gossip sessions. 
Originally, you were prepared to do most of the talking. However, as Joshua got more comfortable with you, you were pleasantly surprised that he was more willing to tell you stories as well. Sure, he was still rather reluctant to delve into his personal life or history too much, but he was more than happy to tell you about all the little flowers he was able to water, or all the little animals he came across in the forest. Of course, you respected his boundaries. Afterall, there were things about your own life that you hadn’t shared with him. You understood that he needed time to overcome his insecurities and issues regarding his own identity. 
And in the times that Joshua slipped into his self-deprecating ways when talking about himself, you would just gently remind him that he was doing well before tactfully steering the conversation in a different direction. Spending time with you hearing all those little words from you that reaffirmed his importance and successes slowly mended the wounds and scars that were left on his soul.  
Although he was a naiad, Joshua began to think that you were the one who had mystical abilities. It was as if you were a god of love. You embodied love, care, and beauty. You treated him so gently, with so much care that Joshua began to feel normal again. You indulged his silly little antics, his quirks, his flaws. You made him feel loved. For once, he felt like he mattered.
Joshua was convinced he did want to be near you. He wanted to be with you. In fact, instead of having his initial curiosity satiated, his desire to learn more about you had only magnified in the last few weeks. You exuded an air of self-confidence, and your unconditional acceptance of him, flaws and all, were qualities that Joshua was completely baffled by. How could you be so lovely, humble, and kind? Yea, he had really started to fall completely, and hopelessly in love with you. Luckily for him, you felt the same way towards him.  
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
Humming to yourself, you checked your basket one last time to make sure that you had all the materials needed for the day’s crafting session. The crafts Joshua made usually consisted of beaded jewelry. He was fascinated by your ability to weave baskets in a variety of styles and had asked if you could teach him today. 
With one last huff, you pushed past the last of the foliage from the dense forest, brightening up immediately at the sight of Joshua. Or more specifically, Joshua’s broad back. He was crouched over the creek with his back turned to you. For someone that tall, he looked so small and cute. That was when the most amazing idea came to your mind. 
You placed your basket down as quietly as you could. Snickering, you launched yourself at Joshua’s back, hoping to give him a surprise back hug. Sadly, today was not your lucky day. Just as you were about to wrap your arms around Joshua’s shoulders, he shuffled to the right and stood up. You let out a loud squeal, your arms flailing around wildly in the air. You thought you heard Joshua’s distant, worried scream of your name when your body came into contact with the cold creek water. 
Almost instantly, you felt Joshua’s hands grab onto you, heaving you out of the water. 
You shot him a glare, squirming in his arms, “you weren’t supposed to move.”
Joshua scoffed, “that’s the first thing you say to me? Maybe I should have left you in the water. How was I supposed to know my gorgeous Y/n decided to be an idiot and launch themself at my back?”
At Joshua’s words, you stilled. You felt the heat rising to your cheeks. Joshua thought you were gorgeous? He called you his? This might be a good time for you to combust on the spot. Coughing to cover up your embarrassment, you let a cheeky grin spread across your face, “You think I’m gorgeous? And I’m yours? Since when? I don’t remember agreeing…”
Joshua flushed, sputtering, “No… I… I didn’t say any of that… I said sly… yea… sly ridiculous Y/n. Yea… that’s it…”
You brought your face dangerously close to his, enjoying the view of his eyes darting around from beneath his long lashes, looking anywhere but your eyes. You teased, “Reaaalllllyyyy? Because I could have sworn that you said my gorgeous Y/n….” 
Joshua sulked, whining that he didn’t under his breath. You chuckled at his adorable expression. 
Sneezing lightly as a gust of wind passed by, you shivered. Noticing this, Joshua sighed, “What am I going to do with you? Come here. I can only dry you off slightly, but it will be enough to prevent you from catching a cold.”
You scooted closer to Joshua. He raised his palms, letting them glow the soft, warm blue light that was always emitted when he used his naiad abilities. As he started to pull some of the water out of your soaked clothing, the strong scent of petrichor invaded your nose, causing you to sigh in contentment. 
“Why are you always doing that?” Joshua asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You always sigh when I use my powers. I’m sorry, is it uncomfortable for you?”
Whipping your head around, you raised your hand to squish Joshua’s cheeks together, “NO! It’s nothing like that. Don’t ever think that. Your powers are amazing. It’s just that when you use your powers, there’s a really sweet, pleasant smell that I really like.”
“Imndnmmdonenee.”
“What?” You tilted your head, wondering what Joshua was saying. 
Annoyed, he pointed to his squished cheeks. 
“Oh, sorry.” You said, letting go of his face.
Joshua repeated himself, “I said, I’m done. Drying you off I mean. Here, you can have my coat first. Shall we begin basket weaving then? We really don’t have all day.” Joshua feigned an indifferent look, but you could tell he was secretly happy that you actually liked it when he used his abilities. 
You wrapped Joshua’s coat around your shoulders. Wow, you thought to yourself, he really did smell like petrichor. Plopping yourself down on your picnic mat, you snuggled into his coat further, inhaling his comforting scent. 
For a while, you both just sat there, with you teaching Joshua how to weave the different basket styles. You watched, amused by Joshua’s concentration. It was endearing to see how much he loved crafts. It wasn’t exactly an easy task, but it was nice to see that Joshua was able to find joy in engaging in his favourite hobbies.
When he finished weaving a small basket, you cheered loudly, praising his amazing handiwork, “Wow!! It was your first attempt but you did so well? I think I’m going to need you to do all my basket weaving from now on.”
Joshua smiled shyly, still unsure how to feel about being praised, “That’s because I had a good teacher.”
You clicked your tongue, “Flattery will not get you out of helping me. Now, let’s eat!! It’s already two in the afternoon.”
You both cleared the picnic mat, laying out the bread, butter, and fruits that you packed for your lunch. You eagerly dug into your food, savouring the taste of a nice meal after working hard all morning. 
Oh how Joshua adored you. You looked like a little bunny shoving the food in your mouth. You really knew how to enjoy all these simple pleasures in life. He really should watch his mouth better. He already slipped up earlier, calling you his gorgeous y/n. Now that you were both closer to each other, he didn’t want to do anything that might push you away. 
Swallowing another mouthful of food, you could feel Joshua’s eyes on you. Teasing him, you said, “Aren’t you going to eat? Or are you just going to stare at me, your gorgeous Y/n?”
Joshua scratched his cheek sheepishly, trying to cover up the fact that he was staring at you, “I wasn’t staring. I was… thinking. Yea, thinking. Actually, I was thinking, why do you always make so many crafts anyway?”
You looked at him, questioning his weird behaviour. Shrugging it off as another one of Joshua’s awkward episodes, you replied, “On the weekdays, I work at the Athenian agora. You know, the central market? I thought I mentioned this before at some point. Anyway, I sell these baskets and crafts to make a living.”
Your words floated through the wind, along with Joshua’s hum of understanding. You both fell back into a comfortable silence as you finished the remains of your meal. Shortly after, you saw that it was already time to go. You reluctantly pulled Joshua’s coat off your shoulders, though not before you took one last whiff of his comforting scent. Passing Joshua his coat, you began to repack your basket, “Same time and place next week?”
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
The following week, you were sitting on your picnic mat working on a beaded bracelet waiting for Joshua to show up. He was late today, but you weren’t worried. Joshua did tell you that sometimes his daily naiad duties took longer than expected. 
Hearing a twig snap in the distance, you lifted your head from your basket, frowning slightly out of concern as Joshua approached you. You took in his disheveled appearance. He usually swept his bangs to the side, but today, he let his bangs cascade down his face, covering his eyes. Speaking of which, his eyes were downcast. Instead of the brightness that you saw in his eyes during your weekly meetings, he eyes just looked empty. 
“Shua?” You asked tentatively, unconsciously using a more affectionate nickname. 
Joshua let out a frustrated growl, ruffling his hair further. Beaded bracelet long forgotten, you shot up, rushing to grab Joshua’s hands, yelling, “Shua!! Shua! Stop it! You’ll hurt yourself!”
When he didn’t respond, with your hands still on his, you wordlessly guided him to sit down onto the picnic mat. Joshua was normally really good at controlling himself around you, but his emotions were heightened and all he wanted right now was to be wrapped in your embrace. He wriggled his hands free from your grip, diving towards you. You both landed on the picnic mat with a thud. 
As your brain rushed to process what just happened, you felt Joshua turn to bury his head against your stomach, and wrap his arm around your waist. You were taken aback by his actions. Sure, you both had gotten close enough that physical contact wasn’t uncommon. However, besides the occasional heat pat (or the few times Joshua would have to grab your hands/ arms to save you from injuring yourself), Joshua never initiated the physical contact. He must really be feeling bad today if he was initiating physical contact this intimate.  
Sighing, you twisted your body, shifting yourself slightly. Joshua let out a whine at your movement. You hushed him, “I’m moving to make us more comfortable.” 
Finally, when you both were in a more comfortable position, you began to run your fingers through his hair, untangling all the knots that formed during his little tantrum. 
“Bad day?” You probed lightly. 
“Yes.” Joshua replied, his voice muffled by the fabric of your chiton. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” 
“Not really. Let’s just say… I saw some old acquaintances… they… weren’t very nice to me in the past. They didn’t see me though.” Joshua mumbled. 
You felt your heart break at the hurt that laced his voice. Seeing them must have brought up bad memories for him. You couldn’t understand how anyone could be mean to Joshua. He didn’t deserve any of that. Respecting that he didn’t want to talk anymore, you simply hummed in response. 
You continued running your fingers through his hair. Joshua tightened his grip on your waist, “Y/n? Do you think we could just stay like this for a while?”
“Of course, we’ll stay like this as long as you need,” you cooed. 
At some point, Joshua’s grip had slackened, and his breathing became more rhythmic. You stared at his figure adoringly. He fell asleep. You weren’t pleased that Joshua had to relive his painful memories, but your heart fluttered with the knowledge that Joshua felt safe enough to be vulnerable with you. He didn’t have to be afraid to let his guard down when he felt himself breaking, because he knew that you were there to pick up all the broken pieces and hold him until he felt whole again. 
You soon lost track of how much time had passed. You were sure you both missed lunch, though you didn’t care. Joshua was resting so comfortably. His figure looked so peaceful that you didn’t want to wake him. Fortunately, you both landed pretty near your basket. With as little movement as possible, you grabbed your leather bound book and began to read. 
A long, long while later, Joshua’s eyes fluttered open. Where was he? Why did he feel so protected, like he was being shielded from the world? Why did this pillow he was hugging smell so nice? Content, he buried his head further into the pillow. As the fog in his brain began to clear, one thought came to his mind. Since when did he cuddle a pillow to sleep? His eyes shot open, pulling away from the pillow only to see that his ‘pillow’ was you. 
He blushed furiously, hiding his head in his hands. You giggled at his reaction, “good morning sleeping beauty. Or, well, good evening? You slept for quite a long time. It’s already four in the afternoon.”
Joshua groaned. It warmed his heart to know that you had stayed by his side for so long. Still, he was so embarrassed. Silently berating his heart that was still pounding, Joshua looked up at you. You were now sitting up cross legged, gazing at him fondly while holding your book in your hands. 
It was that book again. The one he always saw you reading. Joshua craned his neck trying to read the title of the book, bending in such an awkward position he almost tipped over. You let out a haughty laugh. Joshua pouted, sulking that he had once again embarrassed himself in front of you.
Regaining your composure, you extended the book towards Joshua, “Shua? You wanted to see this?”
Joshua gingerly took the book from you, “A compilation of popular quotes. Compiled by Y/n? You wrote this?”
You shook your head, “No, I just copied out some of my favourite quotes from all the books I read.”
Joshua flipped through the pages in awe, your elegant handwriting making the quotes stand out to him even more. You really had taken the effort to copy all your favourite quotes, many of which he had never seen before. 
“You can borrow the book if you want. I don’t exactly need it.” You offered.
“Really? But this is a one of a kind copy. It’s your prized possession. I couldn’t. What if something happened to it?” 
“I’m sure you’ll take good care of it. Besides, I always see you staring at this book. Since you’re so interested in it, I might as well lend it to you.”
“Are you sure?” Joshua hesitated. 
You shrugged your shoulders, “Sure. I trust you, just like you’ve shown you trust me.”
And just like that, when Joshua thought he could not fall for you any harder, those three words, “I trust you” proved him wrong. 
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
“Y/N! I’m just saying. This quote doesn’t make sense to me. What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others? You can’t weave anything into the lives of others. That’s the Moirai’s job? They literally weave the fate of humans? Clotho will not be happy to know that her spinning job has been overtaken by this Pericles guy.”
“Shua. Seriously. It’s just a quotation, you don’t need to take it seriously.”
“But it doesn’t make sense.”
“Shua. Again. Don’t worry about it.”
Today, the peace of your little oasis was broken by the banter between you and Joshua. Ever since you lent him your book a few weeks ago, Joshua has been pestering you about how some of the quotations don’t make any sense to him. You were both amused and exasperated at how smart and just how dumb Joshua could be. Sometimes, you were able to carry out intelligent conversations about some of the quotes. Other times… they looked more like this. 
Joshua grumbled, “It makes no sense. You know what else makes no sense? This one.”
You looked at the quote which Joshua was pointing at written by Heraclitus - No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man. 
“What is it about this one then?” You ask.
“One, it's going to be the same idiot who decided that it would be a good idea to get into the river. Two, the river doesn’t change. It’s the same damn river.”
“Okay, so maybe it’s the same guy. But you of all people should know that the river is not the same. The water passes through it, just like what happens at this creek.” You retort. 
“No, it’s the water that is not the same. The river is the same. The name of the river is not going to change, and it’s the same river bank. Like this creek. The creek is always going to be called the Iremia creek. Only the water is different. Your human philosophers are trying too hard to write something profound in the simplest of things,” Joshua remarked rather smugly, seeing that he was able to poke holes at one of the quotations in your book. 
You rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue playfully at him, “Fine, fine. You win this time.  Some friend you are though. We’ve been meeting here for what? Three months now? You never told me that this creek was named Iremia. Next thing I know, you’re going to tell me this is the creek you preside over and that as a human, I should be giving you offerings or worshiping you.”
Joshua raised his eyebrows at your playful remark, “actually, this is my domain… Just because those other narcissistic deities like their domains to be named after them doesn’t mean I do. I’m not naming my creek Joshua’s creek…”
“WHAT? SERIOUSLY? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?” you shrieked, cutting him off abruptly. 
“I mean, it’s not like I go around advertising it. And no, I don’t expect humans to bow down to worship me. Honestly, it’s a stupid practice. Others engage in it just so they can dangle their power over you humans. Although… if you wanted to, I’m not opposed to it,” Joshua smirked. 
You lightly punched Joshua’s arm, “Hell no. Not even if Hades dragged me into hell.”
You began tapping your index finger against your cheek, another quirk of yours that Joshua noticed, one that you did when you were lost in thought. 
You mused, “I think Joshua’s creek or Shua’s creek would be pretty names. Your name means to save or to deliver. It makes sense because of your job directing fresh water to nearby towns. But I agree with your choice of name for this creek. Iremia is the perfect name. For such a breathtaking place, it lives up to what its name means. Serenity.”
Then, you suddenly turned to jab your finger accusingly at Joshua’s chest. You whined, “Still. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”
“To be fair, you never asked.”
“Shua. I hate you.”
“No you don’t. You adore me.”
As soon as those words escaped his lips, you stared at Joshua, wide-eyed. You felt the heat rising to your head, you were sure your jaw dropped, and your heart began to beat wildly in your chest. 
With your head spinning, you sputtered indignantly, “So… so… so what if I do? Adore you… I mean.”
Now, it was Joshua’s turn to become a blushing, sputtering mess. His hands flew to cover his reddening face. He had mindlessly uttered those words in response to your remark, not expecting you to actually respond to it.
Joshua bashfully averted his eyes from yours, murmuring, “Do you really mean that?”
Your heart melted at his tentativeness. Slowly, you brought your index finger under his chin, lifting his head so you could look him in the eyes. When your eyes finally met his, you affirmed seriously, “I do. I adore you. So so so much.”
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
Squealing, you slid down against your front door, curling up into a ball on the floor. You rubbed your palms against your cheeks, hoping that the coldness from your palms would calm the hot flush that hadn’t disappeared. Your mind was racing. Your heart was pounding. Adrenaline pumped through your veins. Did you really say that to Joshua? No, actually more specifically did you really say “I adore you” to Joshua while tilting his chin towards you just now? 
You let out a giddy shriek. YOU DID! That was practically your indirect, direct confession to Joshua. Gods, you liked Joshua. He was just so handsome, so sweet, so quirky, so unpredictable, so delicate, so gentle, so shy, so bold, so reserved, so mysterious. You liked all of his qualities, as contradictory as they might seem. 
You swooned thinking about the changes in his personality between the time when you first met and your meeting this afternoon. He opened up to you, he joked around with you, he was comfortable enough to initiate physical contact (or affection?) with you. Best of all, he was growing to become more and more confident in himself. Those walls that he built, the same ones you had been chipping at slowly? They crumbled enough for you to squeeze your way in. And those scars and wounds that Joshua bore? You patched them up with as much love and care as you could. Perhaps you were giving yourself too much credit, but you couldn’t help it. At the end of the day, you were the reason why Joshua looked happier, why there was more life in his eyes than ever before, why he walked with a spring in his step, why he no longer averted his eyes when talking about himself (most of the time anyway). Joshua was breaking out of his shell, and you couldn’t be more proud of him. 
Honestly? Romance had been the last thing on your mind. Since you were in your teens, your primary goal was to earn a living. Sure, your parents left you with enough for you to live comfortably, but you didn’t want to rely on their money. Between work and educating yourself, socialising and by extension being in a romantic relationship was not what you prioritised. Then you met Joshua. Initially, you thought that you simply wanted to help his injured soul heal. You were wrong. As you grew closer, Joshua intrigued you, he captivated you. You liked him in his entirety, he had pulled you in until he was all you could think about. 
Joshua believed Pericles’ quote made no sense, though you had a different perspective. Like it or not, people were able to weave themselves into the lives of others. Joshua is a great example of that. Your lives were now intertwined, tightly you might add. Everywhere you looked, in unexpected actions, you saw traces of Joshua, and the times you spent together. The baskets and jewelry you sold, the freshly baked bread from the market, quotes that you came across. Crystals. The vastness of the sky. Gold arm bands. Bunnies. The colour blue. Feathery blades of grass. Black hair. The stars littered across the sky. Water. Puddles. Morning dew. Rain. The scent of petrichor that wafted through your nose after heavy rainfall. Everything reminded you of Joshua. 
Ah. Maybe the word like was putting it lightly. You loved Joshua. 
When that realisation set in, you screeched, loudly pounding your fists against your floor boards. 
“Y/N?? ARE YOU OKAY? I HEARD THE SCREAMS OF A DYING ANIMAL!!” Minghao burst into your house, literally taking your front door off its hinges. He flung the door away, which meant that since you were crouched in front of the door, you were flung along with your poor door to the side. 
You yelped at the force of being thrown. Regaining your bearings, you scowled at Minghao, who at least had the decency to pretend to cower under the intensity of your gaze, “There was no animal you moron. It’s just me. This is the fourth time this month that you’ve come running in here, taking my door out in the process. Gods, and do I have to remind you to be gentle? I get you’re a super powered spirit but I’m only a human! I’m too cute and delicate to be thrown around like that.”
Minghao snorted, “Cute and delicate are not words I would use to describe you. Not after those animalistic screeches you let out. Please, if you are cute and delicate, then I am beauty personified, Aphrodite herself.”
You huffed, rubbing your butt to soothe the ache of landing on it. 
“You’re late by the way. You’ve been arriving home later and later on the weekends. I’m not going to lie, it’s worrying. Don’t forget that there are wild animals in those forests you have to trek through,” Minghao notes, his tone much softer this time. 
You chuckled sheepishly, “Uh, right. Sorry about that. I’ve been… distracted? Yea, that’s the word, I lose track of time when I’m by the Iremia creek.”
Minghao gawks at you.
“What? Oh yea, I just learned the name of the creek today! Iremia. Pretty right?” You chirped, unaware of the feeling of terror that rushes over Minghao.
Minghao lunges forward, grasping your arms a little too tightly, horror and worry etched on his face, “Why would you go there? Are you okay? You’re okay? Please please please tell me you’re okay.”
Stunned by Minghao’s outburst, all you could manage was a small squeak and a nod of your head. 
Although relieved, Minghao’s grip only tightens, “Out of all the creeks in Athens, why would you choose to go to that one? I can’t believe it. What am I going to do with you?”
“Is something wrong with it? It’s been nice…” you stammer, your voice trailing off. In all the years you’ve known Minghao, he has never reacted like this before. 
Minghao sighs, finally letting go of your arms, “For one. You have to push through the dense forest just to get there. Which again, has dangerous wild animals.”
“Pshh that’s nothing,” you boast, cutting Minghao off. 
Minghao glares at you, irritated that he was being interrupted, “Fine. But how about the fact that it backs up onto the Nomia mountains.”
“What is a Nomia?” you ask. 
“Shhhhhh. I’m getting to that. You are an impatient, ditzy human.”
You make a face at him, but Minghao ignores you, continuing his story, “I actually can’t believe you don’t know who she is. Nomia is the most infamous, wretched, selfish, downright wicked nymph there is. She’s an extremely powerful Oread, a mountain nymph. You’ve seen how expansive the mountains are. It’s a reflection of her power. She likes to toy with humans who don’t worship her. If you aren’t licking her feet, she will put a curse on you. I heard a story where she turned a man into stone because he refused to be her lover. She’s dangerous y/n. Why would you go there? I thought I told you NEVER to walk on the path leading to the left.”
You pouted, apologetically admitting, “Heh? Hao, you always say left and right this, left and right that. Blah blah blah. I’m not the best with instructions or directions if you haven’t noticed. How was I supposed to know. I guess I got confused. That does explain why people always give me weird looks when I venture into that part of the forest. BUT! You can’t blame me for going back. That creek is perfect. A real gem. Besides, I’ve never run into this Nomia. It’s not her creek.”
“Still. She’s dangerous. You shouldn’t go back. It’s not worth the pain that comes should you have to face her fury.”
“You? Minghao, the spirit of opportunity has reservations about me going to this place? You’re telling me I should not grasp the opportunity I have to enjoy that place to the fullest? I can’t believe the day has finally come for you to dissuade me from doing something.”
“Y/n. I want to protect you. Believe me please. It’s not worth it.” Minghao seethes. 
You look down, tracing patterns on the floor boards that seem to be more interesting at this moment. You think back to all the good times you spent near the Iremia creek. You loved it even before you met Joshua. Joshua… he was there. The fact that he was there was enough for you to throw Minghao’s warnings out the window completely. You would go to the ends of the earth to meet Joshua. The risks didn’t matter. You would take the risk. Joshua was worth it.
“But it is,” you whisper dreamily. 
Minghao groans, finding himself unable to scold you further when he sees a contented, dreamy look spread across your face. You looked happy. 
“Fine. At least do me a favour? Promise me you’ll be careful. And whatever you do. Do not. I repeat. Do not talk to any nymphs or naiads in that area. You don’t know if any of them are affiliated to Nomia, or if they are Nomia.” Minghao sighs, accepting that you weren’t going to stop visiting the Iremia creek. 
You gave him a dopey smile and saluted him, agreeing to his terms outwardly. You would heed his advice and not talk to any other nymphs. Joshua on the other hand? You knew him. He was more of a lone wolf amongst the nymphs. He was definitely male which meant he was not Nomia. You were one hundred percent going to continue talking to Joshua. You trusted him. Plus, Joshua never mentioned anything about being affiliated to Nomia. So yes, you were safe with him. Right?
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
At that moment, as you gleefully daydreamed about what your future meetings with Joshua would bring, back near the creek, Joshua was storming into his own house with hot angry tears streaming down his face. 
Joshua had returned home in high spirits, his head in the clouds. The moment you flustered him by saying you did adore him was replaying in his head on a loop. However, when he approached his house, a shrill voice rang out, “Joshua Hong Jisoo? Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you here.”
Annoyed that his good mood was about to be ruined again, Joshua gritted his teeth, “Nowhere… I’ve been out. Doing chores. Some of us nymphs have to exert extra energy to carry out our tasks.”
The owner of the voice laughed haughtily, emerging from the shadows, “You see. You say that, but I can practically smell the human on you. You reek. So I’ll ask again. Where have you been?”
“Nowhere. I told you. I was doing chores. I have to go into town for that. Obviously I would be surrounded by humans,” Joshua spat.
“Giving me attitude are you? Don’t you dare speak to me this way!”
After the day Joshua had, all he wanted to do was to go home, and dream of you. Obviously, that wasn’t going to happen now. Joshua rolled his eyes, refusing to entertain this nonsense. He brushed past the figure roughly. 
Joshua stormed into his house, the figure’s grating voice still following him. She barked, “YOU BELONG TO ME JOSHUA HONG JISOO. I. OWN. YOU. I swear I will find out why you’re acting this way and who you’re hanging out with. You’ll regret pushing me away. Whoever you were with will pay for getting in my way. They are turning you away from me. No one. And I mean no one. Messes with what belongs to me. Nomia.”
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
“As I was saying, the Panathenaea festival is coming up. It’s going to be so fun! I can’t believe it’s already nearing the end of summer! We spent the whole summer together. Can you believe that Shua? This festival is held once every four years to celebrate Athena and some other Gods. There’s sports and music performances. I don’t really care for all that, but I really want to try all the sweets that are made of honey. It’s a special delicacy…”
You continued to drone on and on, waving your arms about animatedly. You weren’t particularly fond of other festivals. Those were too hedonistic for your liking. The Panathenaea festival was different. It was more of a communal celebration rather than just a ritual for the Gods. It was a time when the Athenian community would gather to partake in the games together. In this festival, humans were supposed to enjoy it as much as the Gods it was held for. 
However, in your excitement, you didn’t notice that Joshua wasn’t listening to you at all. He was still incredibly shaken after encountering Nomia the previous week. While he nodded along to your babbles, the words weren’t registering in his brain. His mind was distant, yet still extremely alert. He wasn’t going to deny that he was extra jumpy today. His senses were in overdrive. The buzzing of the bee, the water rushing down the creek, the water droplets from the morning mist, the distant howl of a wolf in the forest, Joshua heard, and felt it all. He was on edge. He felt like a sitting duck, waiting for something, someone, to interrupt your peaceful time together. 
Truthfully, Joshua was terrified of meeting you today. He was worried that Nomia would follow him, or send someone to follow him. He didn’t want to put you at risk. You were in enough danger as it was if Nomia found out you were the human he was spending his weekends with. The logical plan would have been to avoid you, to break all contact with you. Alas, the heart wants what it wants. You were his escape, the only one he had and could rely on in this cruel world. With that, Joshua found himself unable to stay away from you. 
“Shua? Shua!! Hello? I’ve been calling your name for the past thirty seconds. Are you okay? You’re looking kind of, uhm, how do I put this lightly… Your face is all twisted, like you're disturbed by something. Is it something I said?” 
Your voice startled Joshua, causing him to jump from his sitting position into a defensive position. Instantly, he pushed you behind him, standing in front of you protectively. His eyes darted around frantically. He was looking out for danger. It was strange, he didn’t feel any ominous presence around the two of you. Nevertheless, whisps of pale blue light danced around his finger tips. Regardless of how overpowered the others might be compared to him, Joshua was ready to unleash all his powers to defend you. He would defend you to his dying breath. 
Confused and a little freaked out at Joshua’s actions, you grabbed onto the fabric of Joshua’s chiton, ducking behind him and squeezed your eyes shut. After a couple of seconds, you lifted your head, peaking at your surroundings from behind Joshua. There was nothing wrong? No danger at all? 
Calming yourself down, you rubbed circles around Joshua’s back in an attempt to soothe him, “Shua. Calm down. There’s no danger around us.”
You felt him stiffen at the contact. You continued your actions, reassuring him by repeating the words, “It’s okay. We’re okay. You’re okay. I’m okay.” until his form relaxed a little. 
Hesitantly, you asked, “Shua? Is everything okay?”
Joshua let out a shaky breath, murmuring, “No no, nothing is wrong.”
Liar. You wanted to say. No one has that kind of reaction if nothing is wrong. You looked at him doubtfully. You opened your mouth, wanting to comment about his reaction, but you didn’t have the heart to. Joshua’s appearance was haggard. He was inhaling and exhaling deeply, trying to calm himself down. You could still see a sliver of the pale blue light around his fingers. He was still on edge. He was trying to convince you as much as he was trying to convince himself that you were both okay, that there was no danger around you. 
Deciding to let him go this time so as to not rattle Joshua further, you brushed over his reaction, opting to return to what you had been talking to him about previously, “Uhm. So as I was saying. Are you going to the Panathenaea festival? I don’t know how you naiads celebrate it. Do you gather with the others? Meet distant relatives or something?”
Unfortunately, though you were trying to lighten the mood, your words had the opposite effect on Joshua as he tensed up. His mood souring even further. He scoffed, “No I don’t plan on partaking in that stupid festival. I don’t have anyone to celebrate it with anyway.”
“Oh… uhm… that’s fine. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea I guess. I don’t really have anyone to celebrate it with either. I just go for the vibes you know? It’s the one day of the year people are more accepting of everyone in the community.” You stammer.
An awkward silence fell upon you both. Seeing your dejected expression, Joshua grimaced. You were so excited about the festival and his bad mood only served to make you feel bad as well. Joshua wrecked his brain, trying to think of something, anything to say to make you feel better. But the more he thought about the festival, the more infuriated he became. All his brain seemed to be able to fixate on was the fact that he would be alone. Then he thought back to all the times he saw you alone near the creek, that content look on your face when you were by yourself. He was green with envy. How did you do it? It wasn’t fair. 
The anger and jealousy bubbling in his chest, Joshua spitefully blurts, “I don’t know how you can be so okay with being alone. It never seems to bother you at all. I’m all alone and I hate it. I’m not powerful. All I can do is manipulate water a little, maybe heal small cuts. It’s enough to direct fresh water towards the neighbouring cities. But for me it takes so much effort. I don’t possess any of the other famed healing powers, or prophetic powers naiads are supposed to have. In addition to being a failure of a naiad, I’m a freak of nature. Male naiads are extremely rare, they aren’t supposed to exist. Right now I believe I’m the only one in existence. Everyone either ridicules me or wants to use me for their political gain. No one truly cares for me in that community.”
Clenching his fists, Joshua continues bitterly, “I have no family. I’m all alone.”
After Joshua’s tirade, he looks at you expectantly. Your heart went out to him. Under the anger, jealousy, and bitterness that laced his voice, under his accusatory gaze, you could hear and see his plea for answers. He was exhausted, drained. He wanted to know, no, he needed to know how you coped. 
You contemplated on what to say for a while. Breathing in deeply, you say softly, “I wouldn’t say that being alone doesn’t bother me at all. I do get lonely. It’s not like I don’t talk to people. I try my best to be outgoing when I’m working in the marketplace. But that’s how I make a living. Other than that… Shua, I get it you know. What it’s like being an outsider within the community that you live in. Everyone either shames you or wants to be friends with you. I get it, I understand how you feel. Aside from you and Minghao, I don’t have any friends. I’m not actually an Athenian citizen. I’m a Metic, a foreigner who lives in Athens.”
You pause, looking at Joshua to gauge his reaction. You were slightly afraid that Joshua would see you differently once you revealed your identity to him. Metics weren’t usually treated kindly or seen positively by most Athenians and deities. 
Relieved when the only reaction you received was an emotionless blink, you continued, “My heritage and identity guarantees that regardless of how long I live in Athens, I lie outside of Athenian society. They don’t accept me because of where I come from, who I am. Metics, our wealth is usually passed onto us from our families. For those who know, they don’t see me as a genuine friend. They see me as someone to leech off given the change, someone to try and manipulate. I don’t have any family here so like you, I’m alone. I have to stand up for myself. It’s just, after so much time of being alone, I’ve come to terms with it? I’m at peace with it. I’m different from others, and that’s okay. I am who I am, I can’t control or change that. What I can control is who I surround myself with. I rather be alone than be manipulated or treated like dirt.”
Taking in your words, hearing that in a way, you were an outcast like him, the last of Joshua’s walls crumbled. He knew you were one of the most accepting people he would ever meet. Since the first time he met you, you accepted him for who he was. You never judged him for being different from other naiads. You never judged him for being weaker, for making self-deprecating comments. In fact, you took his words and turned them around, finding beauty in his abilities. You constantly affirmed him, made him feel appreciated, loved. You wanted him to see how beautiful, and perfect he was, flaws and all. You always longed for him not only to see himself how you saw him, but to believe in himself, just as you believe in him. Honestly, Joshua thought that it was weird that you thought so highly of him. He wondered why you were so accepting. Now, he knew. You were different too. 
“Also Shua? We’re not always born into the family we want, nor are we always blessed to live within a community we want. It’s also easier said than done for us to uproot our whole lives to get a fresh start. Sometimes that’s just not possible. But the good thing is, like I said, we can try to control who we want to surround ourselves with. We can make our own family.”
Joshua’s head snaps up, his eyes meeting yours, you flush, shyly offering, “Since we’re two familyless outcasts, if you want, I’ll be your family.”
Joshua stares at you in disbelief, “Really?” 
His question, though seemingly simple, reflected all the emotions that flashed through his eyes. There was the shock that you would even offer. Hesitation, doubt, and caution, which were instinctual given years of alienation and his experiences of being manipulated, perhaps you wanted something more from him. He was also afraid of being let down. But Joshua knew you had no malice in your words, you were sincere. He trusted you as much as you trusted him. So finally, his eyes shone with hope and gratitude. 
You scrunch your nose, stating in a matter of fact tone, “Not to be that annoying person, but I should point out that Euripides once said that love is all we have, the only way we can help the other.”
You nodded your head seriously after, though the seriousness was broken by the upturned corners of your lips, and the crinkles at the corners of your eyes. Since Joshua’s eyes were so bright, you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, having already (accurately) predicted what Joshua’s answer would be. As sincerely as you could, you said, “I would be honoured to be your family.”
A deep blush spreads across Joshua’s face, and he whispers, content and happy, “Okay. We’ll be our own little family. Just you and me.”
Joshua thought no one would understand him, the loneliness, emptiness, alienation, discrimination that he felt. Then you came along, revealing the most personal aspects of yourself to him. Your words brought him an immense amount of relief. It was as if you extended your hand to him, pulling him up from drowning in his loneliness. For so long, he punished himself, blaming himself for not fitting on, for not having a family, for being an outcast. But the thing is, he didn’t need to. All Joshua needed to do was to find his own family, one that accepted him for who he was, and one that didn’t condemn him for who he wasn’t.  𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
Since that fateful day when you both swore to be each other’s family, you and Joshua became closer than ever. All the walls Joshua built to protect himself now lay in ruins, making way for you to deliver as much love, affirmation, and affection as possible into his heart. As Joshua thought about all this and what you have done for him, his heart fluttered. He felt eternally grateful and indebted to you. 
Before, he was broken. Going through the motions of life was tedious, and regardless of how much effort he put into his duties, it was never enough. But you certainly healed him. You taught him that titles and labels didn’t define who he was and how he should be living his life. Spending time with you, you helped him to learn that life wasn’t so bad. In fact, life was palatable. He learned to find joy in all the little things like taking in the ethereal scenery, listening to the light trickles of the water, sharing a meal with someone you loved, even weaving baskets in comfortable silence. Life was worth living. 
At the same time, you were also relieved and grateful that Joshua didn’t make a fuss about your foreign heritage and identity. It was hard for you to open up about these things. In the past, every time you had, it backfired. However, Joshua was different. He wasn’t a hypocrite, he wouldn’t have cast you aside just for that. You were ashamed of yourself for even thinking that he would. You really should have given Joshua more credit. Afterall, you were both two misfits in the same pod. 
When you were both together, labels were mostly irrelevant. The creek had been a space you carved out for yourself, an escape and a place of refuge from life in the Athenian capital. Now, you saw the creek as a space that you and Joshua carved out for yourselves, a space you both could be yourselves. “Misfits”. “Outcasts”. “Joshua the male naiad”. “Y/n the metic”. Who you were in your respective communities didn’t matter here. When it was just the two of you, within that little oasis next to the Iremia creek, you both were simply Joshua, and Y/n. 
The only time labels were still a tiny bit important for you both, was when you were trying to describe your relationship with each other. You were certainly best friends, and each other’s confidants. And above all else, you could describe your relationship as a found family. 
However, neither of you could deny that you definitely wanted something more to happen between you. The gentle, feathery touches between you that left the butterflies in your stomach fluttering in a frenzy. The tender, fond, love-filled gazes that you exchanged with Joshua. All the playful banter that bordered on flirting, all the times you both actually flirted with each other. These were just some of the pieces of evidence that proved there was a romantic attraction and connection between you and Joshua.
Honestly? It was obvious to the two of you that you loved each other. But neither of you wanted to openly acknowledge those feelings. More than anything, because you were certain that you did love each other, the explicit acknowledgement of those feelings would make things real. It would mean that you would have to discuss it, things might change. Perhaps it would be the more light-hearted, playful dynamics? The way you go about your meetings? The future? (And of course, Joshua was afraid of what Nomia would do if she found out). So, you had an unspoken mutual agreement that you wouldn’t ever venture a step into that direction. 
For the sake of maintaining the status quo, you and Joshua would just continue to feign ignorance, pretending that your budding romance wasn’t anything more than a light drizzle rather than what it really was - a heavy downpour. 
The only thing was, this downpour wasn’t one that would eventually fade away. It was one that would continue to build, roaring and howling away until it was a torrential rainstorm that threatened to wreck havoc at some point in the near future. 
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
Annoyance. That was all you felt. Exhaling sharply, you turned away from Joshua, refusing to look into those adorable, large, doe eyes. If you did, you knew you would crumble straight away. But right now, you wanted to stand your ground firmly. Joshua had crossed a delicate line. He should never have said it. He knew he shouldn’t, and he said it anyway. There was absolutely no way you were going to forgive him for what he said. 
“Y/nnnn,” Joshua whined, poking at your sides. He still didn’t understand the severity of what he said, and you weren’t going to let him go that easily. He needed to learn that his words had consequences.
Casting a quick glare at Joshua, you crossed your arms, harrumphing and looking away. You wouldn’t give in to him today, no matter how hard he pleaded.
“Y/nnn…” Joshua tried again. When he saw that you had no reaction, he moved in front of you. He kneeled down, rubbing his hands together. He pouted, widening his doe eyes wider than normal, knowing that that always wore down your defenses. Alas, his move had no effect on you because you squeezed your eyes shut tightly. 
Pursing his lips together, Joshua decided that he would make one last attempt to get your attention. He was going to bring out the big guns. If this didn’t work, then he would give up, admit defeat, and walk away until you were ready to speak to him again.
Opening his mouth, Joshua cooed tenderly, “Darling…” 
Damn. He was really giving it his all. This was the first time he called you by this affectionate nickname. You felt the heat rising to your cheeks. Your heart fluttered at his voice, begging you to open your eyes so you could look at him. You tried as hard as you could to fight off the smile that was starting to spread across your face, your defenses cracking. 
Seeing your demeanor falter, Joshua tried once again, cooing, “Darling… My darling y/nnnn…”
Cursing your huge soft spot for Joshua and his use of that nickname, your defenses were completely defeated. You cracked your eyes open, seeing Joshua giving you an adorable eye smile. He was beaming at you, happy that he managed to win you over. 
You scrunched your nose, still unwilling to completely give in to him, “I’m still angry with what you said. Don’t think you calling me darling is going to make this go away.”
“Really? Because I think it was really effective,” Joshua teased. 
“Shua! You called that basket I made ridiculous!” You exclaimed, picking up the tiny little basket you weaved, cradling it to your chest. 
“But it is!”
“Is not!”
“Is too!”
“Shua! Is not!”
“Is too! Darling, what can you even put in that? It’s two centimeters in diameter.” Joshua retorted. 
You gave Joshua a deadpan expression, raising your finger to tell him to wait as you fished around your larger basket for something. Once you found it, you looked smugly at Joshua, dropping it into the tiny mini basket.
“Darling. That’s a walnut.” Joshua stated.
“So?”
“It’s one singular walnut.”
“Yea.” You nodded proudly. 
“I stand by my original statement. It’s ridiculous.” 
You clicked your tongue at him, “No, it’s practical and cute. You don’t appreciate art.”
Joshua rolled his eyes at you, but nodded along, half-heartedly agreeing with what you said to get you off his back. 
Needing to get in the last word, you blurted, “It’s cute. That’s final. Unlike someone when he first stumbled out of the bushes over there. You looked like a fawn trying to walk for the first time.”
Joshua reeled back in horror, “You promised never to talk about that! It’s embarrassing.” 
You shrugged, “All’s fair in love and war.”
Puffing his cheeks, Joshua muttered some curses under his breath that even Hades would blush at. You laughed. It was always fun to get Joshua riled up because he would never openly curse at you. He had too much patience and was too much of a gentleman. 
Actually, speaking of your first meeting, there was something you were always curious about but never brought up. 
“Shua? I’ve always wondered, what were you doing behind those bushes anyway?”
Joshua stiffened. After speaking to you and getting closer to you, he forgot that he had spied for weeks. You never brought it up before, and he pushed that memory to the back of his mind. Perhaps it was time to come clean with you. What’s the worst that could happen? Oh right, you might be extremely put off by him. You could potentially call him a creep and storm off…
Joshua gulped, “Honestly? I was watching you. The first time I saw you, you completely captivated me. Then you kept returning, and it made me curious… so you know… I decided just to watch you until I could figure out why I was so attracted to you.”
Putting his hands up in surrender, Joshua was quick to try and explain his actions. “It was Jeonghan! He told me that the only way for me to figure out why you were so alluring was to just watch you! I swear I wasn’t trying to be a creep. Well… I was being a creep… No. What I meant to say was… I didn’t mean any harm… Uh… Nevermind that. I’m sorry???” Joshua squeaked, completely flustered. 
You gawked at Joshua, shocked that one, he had practically been stalking you, and two, he basically just confessed that he was attracted to you. 
Joshua swallowed thickly. You were just gawking at him. And yea, he deserved it, but he felt himself shrinking and shifting uncomfortably. 
Finally, electing to conveniently ignore Joshua’s confession. You fixated on his stalker-esque behaviour, asking, “Uhm.. well, was I at least fun to watch?”
“What…” Joshua was stumped, “Wait… that’s your response? No yelling, no screaming, no shouting pervert! Or creep! What happened to having normal reactions!” 
You looked at Joshua expectantly, replying smoothly, “Who said I was normal? Besides, I think if you meant to harm me, you would have done it a long long time ago. You mentioned once that naiads are naturally curious. I guess I can’t exactly fault you for that. But I would like to know. Was it fun to watch me?”
Joshua nodded, still speechless. 
Satisfied, you snickered at him, “Who knew huh? Mr. Gentleman has a naughty side.”
Joshua laughed, getting up from his sitting position. He inched closer to you, reaching out to wriggle his fingers at you, “Naughty? I’ll show you.”
You screeched, springing up from your seat. You nervously inched away from Joshua before running off in the opposite direction, yelling, “You’ll have to catch me first!”
Immediately, Joshua sprinted after you, laughing maniacally along the way. Every time he neared you, he reached out, trying to grab onto your arm. But you were faster, managing to evade his grip. 
Your laughter floated through the air melodically. You looked so happy, so carefree, just running around across the big open field as the wind brushed past your face. Joshua instinctually slowed down, staring at you in awe. 
Noticing Joshua was some distance away from you, you stuck out your tongue at him, teasing him lightly, “Shua, for a big strong naiad, you’re kind of slow.”
Snapping out of his daze, Joshua lunged forward suddenly. He caught you off guard and was able to wrap his hands around your arms. Bringing you closer to him so your body was flush against his, he breathed in a low voice, “Who’s slow now?”
Your brain stopped working. Joshua was close enough that you could feel his breath against your face. You could feel his firm muscles against your body. You knew he was sculpted like a Greek god, but you didn’t know he was this muscular. And did he always smell this strongly of petrichor? Your senses were buzzing. Blood rushed to your face. You flushed under his half-lidded, alluring gaze, and his teasing. Your heart was running a thousand miles per minute. You felt your lungs constrict. You held your breath, not daring to breathe or move, afraid that if you did, Joshua would realise the hold he had on you. 
That said, you were sure that your proximity meant he could feel the rapid thumping of your heart. And you weren’t sure if your senses were playing tricks on you, because for a moment, you swore you could feel Joshua’s heart doing the exact same thing.
Just as you thought you were going to overheat and combust, your moment with Joshua was interrupted by a sudden flash of lightning followed by the jarring rumbling of thunder in the distance. You felt a few water droplets fall on your head. Looking around, you were a little disoriented that there might be an incoming storm despite the seemingly clear, sunny skies. Looks like Zeus was in one of his moods again. 
Breathing a sigh of relief at the escape the incoming storm provided you from that nerve wracking moment with Joshua, you wriggled around in Joshua’s grip, whining, “Shua, we really should get out of here. There’s going to be rain.”
Your wriggling proved to be futile. Joshua kept a firm grip on you, “there’s no rush darling.”
“Shua! Seriously, we’re going to get wet!”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head darling. We’ll be fine even with the rain coming.”
You scoffed, “easy for you to say. You can’t get sick, but I will. Human. Remember?”
Joshua shook his head at your protests, “In case you hadn’t noticed darling, it’s already pouring.”
Loosening his grip on you slightly, Joshua nodded upwards, gesturing for you to take a closer look at your surroundings. Confused, you let your eyes trail upwards, following Joshua. 
Gasping, you were utterly in awe at the sight you were met with. There was something like a barrier sheltering you from the downpour, something transparent. It was almost like a bubble, but one that only enveloped you and Joshua. Beyond that, the heavy downpour continued.
Upon closer inspection, the rain droplets around you appeared as though they were suspended in the air. It wasn’t that there was a dome around you. Rather, the rain droplets were being directed around you in a dome-like shape. This made the droplets look akin to a gorgeous, extravagant, crystal chandelier. Similar to the sparkles that you loved so much when you observed the water on the creek’s surface, each of the rain droplets sparkled under the light. Together, they emitted a pale blue shimmer. The colour was familiar to you, reminiscent of the colour that you always saw when Joshua used his powers. 
Looking at Joshua’s hands that were still gripping your sides, a similar faint glow could be seen around his fingers. Putting two and two together, you realised that Joshua was using his abilities to keep the two of you dry. That was why the scent of petrichor was so strong. In a way, you were right to note that the scent came from Joshua, though it was due to him using his powers and not the proximity of your bodies. Seems like it had been raining for a while, you were just too preoccupied going crazy over more important things (Joshua’s body against yours) that you were completely unaware of your surroundings. 
Noticing that you understood what was going on, Joshua hushed you, “Hush now darling. Now you see why there’s no rush? We’re perfectly dry here.”
You nodded, still speechless. The little dome you were in with Joshua was beautiful. Enthralled by the sight, you raised a finger out, gingerly trying to touch a suspended water droplet. You giggled when the droplet still splashed against your finger. Out of curiosity, you stuck a hand outwards, wondering what would happen if your hand went out of the little dome Joshua created. You squealed when you felt the cold rain water hit your hand. Obviously, outside the dome, the rain water continued to fall as per normal. 
You snickered when you heard Joshua sigh in loving exasperation. You wiped your wet hand on Joshua’s chiton, ignoring his protests. Then, you continued to observe your surroundings with child-like awe and glee, commenting, “It’s beautiful.”
“You are.” Joshua murmurs mindlessly, his eyes never leaving your form.
As always, Joshua had been watching you from the background as you went about exploring and observing the space around you. This reminded him of the reasons why he was so inexplicably drawn to you in the first place. Your bright eyes. The ones that were so clear, so filled with life, curiosity and wonder. Your eyes sparkled under the glow of the crystal-like water droplets. The corners of your eyes crinkled more and more as you became increasingly captivated by the rain droplets. 
He continued to watch you silently, feeling his heart melt and the butterflies in his stomach stir as you shot him appreciative, joyful glances. He remembered seeing you have that expression when you took in the scenery of the little oasis you were currently in. Now, you had that same expression while enjoying something with him, something that he created. More than that, Joshua recognised that your eyes reflected something more than appreciation and gratitude. Love. That was it. 
You looked at him like he created the whole world. That look, it was so full of love. It was directed at him. It was for him.
Of course he would recognise that look… It was the exact same look that he had, one that only appeared on his face when he looked at you. 
Not completely aware of what you had said, Joshua only picked up on the word “beautiful”. Beautiful. He didn’t think that that word could encapsulate how attractive he found you. But in his daze, while he was completely captivated by you, the word “beautiful” continued to be repeated in his head. It was the only word he could think of as he thought of you, and “you are” just slipped out before his brain registered what he should say in response to your remark. 
Stunned, your head snapped to look at Joshua. 
“Shua?” You asked, noticing his dreamy, dazed expression. 
Beautiful, Joshua thought, his eyes trailing down to stare at your lips which looked so inviting.  
Unable to control himself, Joshua removed his hand from your side, reaching upwards for your face. His touch as light as a feather, Joshua brushed his thumb against your face tenderly. While the feeling of his touch against your skin still lingered on, you felt him shift once again, only this time, he was gently pulling your head closer to his as he leaned towards your face slowly. Although his eyes were glazed over, you could see them flickering between your eyes, your face, and your lips. 
As you processed Joshua’s actions, time came to a stand still. You stood stiffly. Was this happening now? Was he going to kiss you? It’s not like you didn’t want to kiss him. Your heart yearned for Joshua’s touch, you yearned to be able to kiss him, to mold your lips to his. It was just a shock that Joshua was initiating it. 
Unconsciously, you closed your eyes, leaning into Joshua further until you could feel the outline of his face near yours, and until you could feel his warm breath. You both lingered in that position, each too hesitant to make the final move to connect your lips. 
Then, you felt your head being jerked forward. Joshua pushed your head towards his, just as he lunged forward. Before your brain registered the movement, Joshua’s lips were on yours. 
Just as Joshua’s lips reached yours in that electrifying kiss, all of Joshua’s feelings crashed down on him like a wave all at once. Your lips were so soft that Joshua wanted to melt into you, and he could taste the aftertaste of the honey filled desserts you liked on your lips. His heart fluttered, wanting more of you. He waited so long for this moment. 
But as he hungrily pressed his lips on your harder, he was immediately reminded of the fact that you couldn’t happen. The relationship between you and Joshua could not, and should not happen. It was dangerous. He already broke his own vow not to get close to you, not to fall for you. He wasn’t supposed to. Not falling for you, not interacting with you should have been the way. It was the best course of action to protect you. Fear filled his veins of what could happen to you if Nomia found out about you. The fear chilled him to the bone. You could be hurt, or worse. 
So, as fast as Joshua’s lips were on yours, as you felt the pressure of his lips on yours, they weren’t anymore. Your mind still hazy from the kiss, you opened your eyes when you felt Joshua pull away hastily. Dazed, you could only stare in confusion and hurt when you saw Joshua’s back turned towards you, his figure getting smaller and smaller as he ran through the rain away from you.
Your head reeled from the lingering feeling of Joshua’s lips on yours, and the cracks on your heart began to form. However, the moment you felt the world crashing down on you was when you vaguely heard his whisper of “sorry” floating through the wind. His voice crashing into you just as his hold over the water droplets broke, causing the harsh downpour to hit you all at once. 
Somehow, the pain and cold of the sudden rush of the howling wind, and the angry rain droplets pelting down on your skin didn’t matter to you. All you could feel at that moment was the unfathomable pain of your heart being shattered by Joshua as he left you there soaked in the rain, all alone. 
You didn’t know how long you stood there, alone under the pouring rain. You were numb to everything around you. Whether it was from the cold wind and rain pelting down on you, or the shock of Joshua kissing you and running away, you had no idea. At some point, everything went black. 
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
Ugh, everything hurt and it was cold. Your arms, your back, your legs, your head. Why was everything so painful?
You shifted, trying to make yourself more comfortable and to soothe your aching body and the pounding in your head. Snuggling closer underneath the sheets that lay on top of your body, you inhaled their familiar scent, trying to get as much warmth as possible so you could slip back into your slumber.
Wait… sheets? The last thing you remembered was being out in the field next to the creek. Your eyes shot open. Immediately, you groaned, shutting your eyes again, regretting your decision as the light from the room burned your eyes and made the pounding in your head worse. You clutched your head in your hands, moaning in pain. 
“I see you’re up. You’re at home by the way. You’re welcome. And you have a high fever. That serves you right for standing out there in the rain.”
You cracked an eye open slowly, hissing at the light and at the person that the voice belonged to, “Shut up Hao. I’m in too much pain for your snarky comments.”
Minghao walked over, setting a cup of water and a steaming bowl of soup on your nightstand. He sat down next to you on your bed, your bed dipping under his weight. He placed a hand against your forehead, muttering, “your temperature is still high, but at least you’re awake.”
You slapped his hand away weakly, “yea i got that from the excruciating ache in my body.”
Shaking his head, Minghao scolded, “Y/n. This is serious. You were unconscious for almost 24 hours. I had to keep sponging your body to bring your temperature down. Even then, it’s still there.”
You sulked at Minghao’s scolding, but allowed him to help you sit up so you could take your medication and eat some soup. 
Shivering when your body left the warmth of the blankets, Minghao scooted onto the bed, wrapping his arm around you, providing you with as much body heat as you needed. Spirits and Greek deities usually had a higher body temperature than humans. You refused to eat the soup, your stomach still feeling funny after waking up. Minghao sighed, knowing how fickle and fragile humans were when they were sick. Instead, he shoved the cup of water in your hands, asking you to sip on that. 
Snuggling closer to Minghao, you rested your head on his shoulders and closed your eyes. You had only been awake for a few minutes and you were already exhausted. 
Just as you were dozing off once again, Minghao’s voice startled you, “You know, when you didn’t return home last night, I got worried and went to find you. Mind telling me about why you were lying unconscious by the Iremia creek running a high fever when I found you?”
You shook your head. You were tired and you didn’t want to go into the whole story with Minghao. He would be mad at you.
“Does it have anything to do with someone named Joshua?”
You stiffened, peeling your head away from Minghao’s shoulder. You said firmly, “I don’t know anyone named Joshua.”
Minghao exhaled sharply, trying to contain his anger, “Y/n, don’t bother trying to hide it from me. You were unconscious for 24 hours, or rather for most of it. The times you were awake, you were delirious. You kept crying for this guy, Joshua, asking why he was leaving you.”
With that, the dam broke. Your emotions, already heightened from what happened with Joshua, and from being sick, all bubbled up to the surface at once. You wailed, tears flowing uncontrollably as you spilled everything to Minghao. You told him everything that happened from the time you met Joshua to that moment when he left you in the rain. You told Minghao about all your feelings for Joshua, how much you loved Joshua, how much you adored him, and how much it hurt when he left you. 
During your little venting session, Minghao simply sat there with you in his arms, rubbing your back comfortingly. He might not approve of your actions or the fact that you hid all this from him, but what was done is done. He couldn’t change any of that. All he could do now was to be there for you. 
When you were done, you sniffled, wiping your snot with the back of your hand. Minghao gave you a disapproving glance, handing you a tissue before speaking, “I think when you’re well and only when you’re ready to, you should go back and talk to Joshua.”
Hearing that, you opened your mouth to protest. Minghao shushed you, “Despite what he did, from the way you talk about him, how he acts around you, how he treats you, I believe he does truly love you. There has to be a logical explanation as to why he acted in that manner, and I think you should go and talk to him to find out what it is. One, it is a way for you to confront him. Two, if nothing else, trying to talk to him, whatever the outcome, be it good or bad, it will give you closure.”
Letting Minghao’s words sink in, you murmured, “I don’t think I can face the pain of being rejected again.”
At that, Minghao squeezed you reassuringly, “Only do it when you’re ready. On top of that, the way that things played out, you weren’t exactly rejected. It’s just my personal advice, and call me biased for being a spirit of opportunity, but I really think you take this opportunity to hash out your feelings for each other. You should go back and talk to him.”
“What about that creek being dangerous?”
Minghao hummed thoughtfully, “Well the risk is always going to be there. And you still went back after I warned you. Just be careful and let me know when you go back.”
“Hao… I really don’t know…” you hesitated. 
“Do you love him?”
Minghao’s question threw you off guard, but you answered instantly, “Yes.”
“I won’t force you, but if that is your answer, I think you should trust me on this. For now though, rest. I’ll be here if you need me.” 
Minghao slipped out of your bed, laying you back down gently. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, closed the blinds, and left you alone to your thoughts. 
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
You mused over Minghao’s advice for the next four weeks. The first week after, Minghao refused to let you out of the house, telling you that you really needed to rest. You didn’t try to fight him. You were too weak to venture too far from home, and you didn’t feel ready to try and confront Joshua yet. The wound he inflicted on your heart still felt too raw. 
Then came the second week, the following week, and the week after that. Although you completely recovered by then, you didn’t feel ready to face Joshua. You pushed down your intrusive thoughts of all the possibilities of what might happen if you confronted Joshua. All the positive outcomes, negative outcomes, and everything in between were forced to the back of your mind. You really did try your best to go about your life, returning to your normal routines, selling crafts in the market, and having tea with Minghao. 
But the ache and pain of what happened remained. For all the times that you tried not to think about Joshua, memories of him forced themselves back into your mind two times stronger. It was funny. In the past, you used to relish in the giddy feeling of thinking about Joshua whenever any little thing you saw reminded you of him. The crafts, the water puddles, picnic baskets. Now, they acted as swords impaling in your side, painful memories that you just couldn’t shake no matter how hard you tried. 
The weekends were especially hard. The days that used to be full of chatter with Joshua by the Iremia creek in your little oasis were now full of you just trying to fill the time by distracting yourself. You missed that field, the scenery, the calming sounds of the water, the serenity of it all. Most of all, you missed Joshua. Yes, he hurt you, but you loved him. Minghao was right. By not doing anything to confront Joshua, you were only prolonging your own pain. You wanted to see him. You wanted to cry and yell, asking him why he did what he did. You needed to. 
Finally, after four weeks of wallowing in your own self-pity, you steeled your nerves. You grabbed your things, left a note for Minghao, and ventured back to the field.
Pushing through the last of the heavy foliage from the forest, you emerged back into the field. Unlike the other times when you felt emotional reprieve coming here, you still felt nervous and jumpy. 
Honestly? You weren’t even sure that you would find Joshua here. You knew Joshua would always be nearby, this being the creek he presided over. But would he want to see you? Would he be willing to talk to you? What if he never wanted to see you again? You shook your head. There was no point in entertaining those worries right now. What mattered was that you were here, trying to reach out to Joshua. 
Looking around and still not finding Joshua anywhere, you lay out your blue picnic mat and made yourself comfortable. There was no reason for you not to enjoy the clear skies today though that wasn’t the primary reason why you came. Opening a book, you decided to immerse yourself in an alternative universe to distract yourself while you waited for any signs of Joshua. 
Simultaneously, Joshua was tiredly making his way back from his duties. These past few weeks have been trying. The moment when his lips touched yours kept replaying in his head, as did the moment that he ran off. He was frustrated. He couldn’t believe he did that. The least he could have done was to talk to you, leaving you with some kind of parting words before he ran off. But no. He tucked his tail and ran. That was all he was good at anyway, being a coward. He chastised himself. His whole life, all he did was run away from his problems and fears instead of facing them head on. And now he hurt you deeply because of his cowardice. 
Despite knowing that you needed time, and that you probably didn’t want to see him, Joshua continued to make his way back to the creek after his duties to see if you were there. To his disappointment, for the past few weeks, you were not. However, today, as he approached the creek, he saw a figure sitting quietly in the field. Fearful that his eyes were deceiving him, he rubbed them to check if it was really you.
His heart almost leapt into his throat when he confirmed that it was you. He shuffled around behind the foliage awkwardly. It was almost as if he was back at square one again, hiding behind the bushes, too scared to approach you. Part of him wanted to run to you. He missed you terribly. But the other part of him was too afraid to. He was worried you would reject him. Lingering around, Joshua continued to battle his thoughts.
Rolling your eyes, you looked up from your book in the direction of the bushes. You knew Joshua was there as soon as he approached. He wasn’t especially quiet, and since you knew that he always came from direction, you were specially keeping an eye out for any movement. You were hoping that he would come out and make the first move. Well, it looks like you were going to have to do all the heavy lifting today.
You stormed over to the bushes, brushing them aside harshly. Joshua yelped, surprised at your sudden appearance. He shrank backwards under your glare. Nodding towards the field, you put your hands on your hips, waiting for Joshua to walk out from the bushes. This time, Joshua tried not to trip as he obediently walked towards your picnic mat. He didn’t want to embarrass himself even further. 
Once you both settled down on the mat, there was an awkward silence between you. You twiddled your thumbs, wondering how to broach the subject. You hadn’t thought about what to say to Joshua before this. You didn’t actually think you would get this far. 
“Shua…”
“Y/n…”
You both started at the same time. Joshua clamped a hand over his mouth, shutting up to let you speak first.
You began, “Shua… I… I just…”
You cleared your throat. Unable to get the words out, you settled for asking him a direct question, “Why?”
Joshua hesitated. You were really just ripping the bandaid off. Not meeting your eyes, Joshua said softly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“No. What you shouldn’t have done was kiss me and then run away. Right now, I don’t care about the kiss. I want to know why… why did you run?” you stated, hurt lacing your voice.
Joshua grimaced at your tone, “I… we… we can’t be together. It’s wrong. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t even have gotten close to you. It’s my fault.”
“I think that doesn’t matter right now. It’s obvious we both like each other. So if you say that, then explain it to me. What’s so wrong about it?” 
“I can’t. Please Y/n, you wouldn’t understand. I don’t want to hurt you.”
You glared at Joshua, “Don’t assume I wouldn’t understand anything. How would you know that if you won’t even give me a chance by explaining things to me?”
You were furious. How could he? After everything, he still didn’t think you would understand? 
You knew it would be a low blow, but you said it anyway to drive your point home, “Well I suppose it’s too late now if you didn’t want to hurt me. I did get hurt. I got sick because of you. I collapsed because of you. Because you left me there. I think I deserve an explanation. Whether you like it or not, I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.”
Joshua felt another wave of shame wash over him. In his attempt to spare you from the pain, he ended up hurting you more. 
Repeating his earlier words, Joshua said, “We can’t be together.”
Fed up, you spat, “Yes. I’ve got that part. But explain it to me. I’ve never heard of any rules that forbid humans from being with naiads.”
Joshua shook his head, muttering, “You’re right. There are no rules against that. If that was the case, it actually wouldn’t be as complicated. It’s not that. It’s just… I really can’t be with you. You’re in enough danger as it is right now for having spent time with me.”
You rolled your eyes, “So I’ve been told. What about it?”
“You’re aware of who Nomia is?”
You nodded. 
“I’m bound to Nomia, and not just in the way that weaker nymphs are bound to stronger nymphs. Right when I came into existence, as a male naiad, she claimed me as hers. Y/n, I’m promised to her. I’m supposed to marry her some years in the future. I can’t leave her, ever. The only way is for her to break the engagement, which would never happen. Don’t you see? You’re in danger. She’s possessive. She will hurt whoever dares come between me and her. Right now, that’s… you. That’s why… we can’t be together.” Joshua revealed, his voice getting louder with each word before faltering near the end. 
Your mind reeled. You took a minute to process all that information. He was engaged? No. It wasn’t a consensual engagement. He was promised to Nomia, probably as some power play. That was the wicked, infamous nymph that Minghao warned you about. You were beginning to see why Minghao warned you not to interact with any naiads in the area. 
Seeing that you were speechless, Joshua began to rise from his seat, “Y/n… darling… I love you. I really do. With all my heart. But we really cannot be together. We shouldn’t keep meeting either… You’re always welcome here. We just shouldn’t meet again. Ever.”
As he turned his back to you, you hand shot out. You grabbed his wrist, preventing him from walking away from you once again. 
In a low voice devoid of emotion, you said, “Who says I’m letting you go that easy?”
“Darling…” Joshua begged, gently trying to remove your hand from your wrist. 
You growled, “I wasn’t finished. What I meant to say was, if you think Nomia is going to scare me off, then you’re mistaken.”
Joshua’s eyes widened in fear, “Darling. Please. She’s very dangerous.”
“Then why don’t we run away? You’ve mentioned that some naiads can travel across all bodies of water. Let’s run. We can be together then? Isn’t that simpler?”
Shaking his head, Joshua explained brokenly, “Darling, I really can’t. I’m not that kind of naiad… I’m not powerful enough. If I leave this area for too long, I’ll die…”
Gripping onto Joshua’s wrist tighter, you pulled him back down to sit next to you. You sighed, “Well then, we’ll just have to keep meeting up here.”
“Darling…”
“I love you. My love for you is not going to change. And I’m certainly not letting some spoiled nymph ruin the love and the relationship that we have.”
Joshua’s eyes widened. He protested violently, “As much as I would love that, I can’t! We can’t! It’s dangerous. Y/n, I don’t have the power to protect you. I never have, and I never will. I’m weak…”
“You’ve told me this a thousand times before. You think I care? If I did, I wouldn’t be sitting here. So what if you’re weak? Powerful or not. I love you in your entirety, flaws and all. You’re imperfectly perfect. Shua. I’m not saying that we enter a romantic relationship, nor am I completely ruling that option out for the future. All I’m saying right now, is that we should continue to meet here.”
Smiling sincerely at Joshua, you noted, “Besides, being able to spend time with you. I think that’s worth the risk. You’re worth the risk.”
Then, more sadly, you added, “However, if you still think that you never want to see me again. If you think that is best, then I will respect your decision.”
Joshua lowered his head. He was terrified of what would happen if Nomia found out. But at the same time, he really loved you. The words that you spoke today, the reassurances that you did want to be with him, your firm conviction that he was worth risking your safety for, and your confession that you did love him too. 
Musing over your words for a while longer to weigh each option, eventually, his heart’s desires won out once again. He could never say no to you. 
Finally, after keeping you in suspense long enough, he whispered, “okay.”
With that, you broke out into a wide grin, launching yourself at Joshua and wrapping your arms around him. Nuzzling into his neck, letting yourself take in his comforting scent, you exclaimed, “Okay!”
Joshua melted into your embrace, leaning further into you. He really missed you. 
Speaking into your ear, he said, “Promise me this though. At any time that you’re not comfortable, tell me, and we’ll stop these meetings at once.”
Although you were about to protest, knowing that you could never be uncomfortable with Joshua, you agreed to put his mind at ease.
At once, Joshua placed a kiss onto your temple, murmuring with love and happiness, “Darling, I love you. So so much.”
Content, you replied, “And I, you.”
Deep down, you knew that there was another storm brewing, though you would try to weather that storm together with Joshua. You would fight for Joshua to the last moment, until you couldn’t anymore. There was no way in hell that you were going to let Joshua go now that you had him back. Together, you would be able to face whatever, and whoever came your way, come what may. 
Or at least, that was what you hoped, and perhaps you were a little too idealistic in your thinking… 
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 
Slowly but surely, you and Joshua fell back into your routine of meeting up by the Iremia creek on the weekends. Initially, after your emotional confrontation, things were a little awkward. You weren’t dating, already having decided that you both weren’t ready for that at this moment. On the other hand, now that the information that you both loved each other was thrown out in the open, it was impossible to revert back to your previous dynamic.  
Hence, you and Joshua eventually settled on being in this weird, transitory stage between friends to lovers. You acknowledged that you both weren’t platonic friends. With the kiss, you both crossed that boundary a long time ago. But you weren’t at the stage of being romantically involved lovers yet.
Currently, you and Joshua were just content being with each other. There was no better feeling than being able to spend time with the person you loved. You both treasured each second of it, knowing that there was always a possibility that you both would be ripped away from each other by the circumstances that Joshua was bound by. 
You sulked at the thought. Stupid Nomia and her stupid need for power and prestige. If it weren’t for her, you would have been happily dating the love of your life. Nevertheless, you tried to swallow the feelings of annoyance and anger. 
Instead, you chose to focus on the day that you just had with Joshua as you skipped along in the forest on your way home. You let out an embarrassed squeak thinking about it. It all began after lunch when Joshua presented you with a delicious smelling brown paper bag, mumbling something about how it was a fried doughnut made with honey…
Opening the bag, your eyes brightened and your mouth watered at the sight of the delicious looking doughnut. You squealed, thanking Joshua. You reached for one immediately, biting into it. As soon as you bit into the soft dough, the sweetness of the honey spread through your mouth, causing you to moan in happiness. These sweets were expensive and you only splurged on them during festival season so for Joshua to buy them for you, it was such a welcome surprise. While you did offer to share with Joshua, he said it was all for you. With that knowledge, you reached into the bag to pull out another doughnut. 
Joshua stared at you adoringly as you stuffed your face. Although you looked like a mess with honey smeared all over your face and fingers, Joshua still thought you were the prettiest person in the world. The trek to find the doughnuts and the price of them was worth seeing you enjoy the sweets with sheer joy plastered on your face.
Joshua choked back a laugh. You were chewing on your doughnut with your cheeks all full, making you look like a bunny. He didn’t understand how every single one of your actions could be so adorable.
Swallowing a bite of the doughnut, you asked, amused, “Why are you laughing? Is it because I have honey all over me?”
Nodding his head, Joshua began to chortle with laughter, “You look like a messy bunny.”
You scoffed, “You try eating these doughnuts. Just you wait, I’m sure you will look like a chubby deer.”
Joshua shook his head, leaning towards you, “Bunny, I highly doubt it. I would still look good. You on the other hand…”
His voice trailed off as he extended a hand towards your face, bringing you closer to his face. You felt the heat rising to your cheeks. Cupping your face, he wiped a smudge of honey that was on your lips before bringing it to his lips. He smirked, “Sweet… just like you… my sweet darling bunny.”
Remembering Joshua’s actions, you harshly rubbed your hot cheeks. This man… this naiad would be your cause of death. He was just too attractive for his own good, and ever since you told him you loved him, he’s been so flirty. One day, you were going to combust or blow a fuse. 
You exhaled, calming your rapidly beating heart. Continuing your journey home, you shivered slightly when a cold breeze rushed past you. Startled, your head snapped up. You looked around, alarmed. Taking note of your surroundings and finding absolutely nothing aside from the rows and rows of trees, you wrapped your arms around yourself, hastening your pace. Getting home wasn’t your top priority. Your priority was to get out of the forest and back to the main trails leading back to Athens. You hoped you would feel better once you reached an area where there were more people walking around. 
You shuddered. You were feeling horribly unsettled. Something about that breeze didn’t feel right. It was hard to explain, but somehow, that breeze didn’t feel natural. It was almost as if something swooped past you, as if someone was watching you. 
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
On the other side of the forest, there lay an expansive, extravagant looking palace built right into the side of the Nomia mountains. Going further into the palace, within the central atrium on a raised platform Nomia was sitting on a gold plated throne covered in crushed dark green velvet. 
Although she was lounging around lazily, playing with a mountain lion cub on her lap, there was no mistaking the powerful, ominous aura that she exuded. The double doors to the central atrium creaked open, and a small tortoise crawled in. The tortoise was trembling, its eyes trained to the ground as it approached the area before the platform. 
When the tortoise came to a stop, Nomia looked up to see who was the one that disturbed her downtime. Her face was devoid of any emotions. Her eyes narrowed, her gaze cold and calculating as she sized up the tortoise. Affirming the identity of the tortoise, a sinister grin spread across her face. 
With a wave of her hand, the tortoise was shrouded in a dark green mist. Opening its mouth, the tortoise spoke, “My lady, I have collected the information that you ordered me to find… should this information prove to be what you wanted, I trust you will hold up your end of our arrangement to return me to my original form?”
“Chelone, I don’t have all day. Tell me what you know before I lose my patience,” Nomia ordered.
“Like you suspected, your betrothed, Joshua, has been in the company of a mortal. According to the ravens I sent out, the mortal would visit Joshua every weekend. From their intimate behaviour, it seems that they have known each other for a while, and that they are in love.”
Her suspicions confirmed, through gritted teeth, Nomia seethed, “The nerve of that ungrateful naiad. He could have been with me, getting all the prestige, respect, and riches he could ever want. Yet he chose a pathetic mortal?”
In fury, Nomia crushed the glass of wine she had been holding, the wine splattering everywhere. The mountain lion cub on her lap let out a howl, scampering off in fear. 
Raising from her throne, Nomia brushed off the wine from her gown, “Well then. Where does this mortal reside?”
Slightly taken aback, Chelone stuttered, “Uhm… I believe the mortal resides at the edge of the Athenian capital…”
“Very well then,” Nomia said, turning to leave.
“My lady… your promise? You promised to return me to my human form if I collected the information for you,” Chelone interrupted.
Snapping her fingers, Nomia turned so she was facing the tortoise. Nomia chuckled evilly, “about that, I’m afraid I can’t make good on that promise.”
“BUT YOU PROMISED!” Chelone yelled, enraged. 
“What. Did. You. Say.” Nomia asked. The tone of her voice sent an overwhelming feeling of dread over Chelone.
Nomia strutted down from the raised platform over to Chelone. With each click of Nomia’s heels, Chelone’s eyes darted all over the atrium. Retracting her head into her shell, Chelone’s whole body cowered in fear. 
Nomia picked up the shell of the shivering tortoise with one hand. Raising it so Chelone was just below eye level, Nomia mocked, “Dear Chelone. I said I’m afraid I can’t make good on that promise. You were the idiot who refused to appear at Zeus and Hera’s wedding despite being summoned. It’s no wonder that Hermes turned you into this pitiful form. Really, I’m flattered that you came to me, thinking that I could reverse the spell. Unfortunately, even I can’t go against the will of a God. You understand, don’t you dear? You should be thankful that I was able to give you your speech back. That’s as close to your Oread form as you can get. Now, you really should leave before I lose my patience further. I hate to see what would happen if I squeezed your shell a little too hard.”
Dropping Chelone’s body, Nomia smirked as the tortoise scampered off hurriedly, “Now… what to do about that pesky mortal…”
Retreating to the darkness of her personal suite, Nomia shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, “What’s there to think about? It’s simple. Retribution. That’s all there is to it.”
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
Rubbing a smudge of flour off your brows, you smiled proudly at the variety of freshly baked bread that you just pulled out of the oven. Since you were busy on weekdays, you usually elected to purchase bread from the agora where you worked instead. However, you closed your stall early today so you could bake something for Joshua. 
You clicked your tongue disapprovingly, thinking back to how Joshua recently sheepishly admitted that he didn’t really eat properly whenever he was alone. You had fussed and fretted over his confession. Despite his reassurances that he was fine, you promised to bake something for him. He deserved to be pampered a little, and at least with this spread, he would be well fed for the next week or so. You bounced on your heels excitedly. You couldn't wait to share the bread with Joshua when you saw him next. 
Fishing around your kitchen for some cloth to wrap the bread in, you were interrupted when you heard a harsh knock on your front door. Pausing to glance at the sundial that sat on your kitchen window, you saw that it was almost time for supper. You mentally smacked your forehead. You forgot that you had plans with Minghao for supper today. You were supposed to be at his house half an hour ago. 
Thinking it was Minghao at the door, you called out, “Hao? Just a minute. Let me get something and I’ll be right there.”
The harsh knocking continued. Irritated, you shouted, “Minghao! I said I’ll be right there.”
Your words proved to have no effect, and the knocks only intensified. You grumbled, setting down the pieces of cloth. You strolled over to the door, intent on scolding Minghao for being impatient when you saw him. 
When your hand gripped the door handle, you suddenly felt yourself being hurtled to the side roughly along with your door. You howled in pain as your back hit the wall. That was going to leave a mark. Your eyes snapped up in fury. What was Minghao thinking? He should know better.
You opened your mouth, about to yell at Minghao, but faltered when you saw who was standing in your doorway. Instead of Minghao, you saw a tall beautiful woman. There was no mistaking that she wasn’t human with the way that she carried herself. She had a fiery, menacing aura around her. 
Seeing you pathetically splayed out on the floor and in pain, she smirked, “Oh good, it looks like you’re already bowing down to me.”
You didn’t know who this woman was, but she was definitely dangerous. You needed to call Minghao. You gritted your teeth. The pain from your back was killing you. Slowly pulling yourself up, you steadied yourself using the wall. You seethed, “You know, I just had that door fixed. And go to hell. There’s no way I’m bowing down to anyone.”
The woman laughed haughtily, “You’ll be singing a different tune very soon my dear.”
You rolled your eyes, even her voice was grating. With your back against the wall, you inched closer to the coat rack in your foyer. There was an enchanted raven feather in the coat pocket. Minghao left it with you when you insisted on returning to the Iremia creek the last time, explaining that the feather had two functions. The first was so he could track you down if necessary. The second and the more important function, was that if you found yourself in any danger, you could brush your fingers against the feather and it would alert him that you needed immediate assistance. 
You regretted not listening to Minghao when he told you to keep it on your person at all times, though that didn’t matter right now. You just needed to focus on getting to it without alerting the woman. What you needed to do was to keep her busy.
“If you say so,” you mocked.
“Why you pathetic little….” the woman started, shaking her fist at you.
Cutting her off before she could finish her statement, you said, “Don’t you think I should know who you are? You did break into my house and throw me into a wall.” 
“You don’t know who I am?” The woman asks, incredulous that there is someone who wasn’t aware of her identity.
You raise a brow at her, “no? Am I supposed to?”
“ENOUGH!” The woman roars. She’s in front of you in a flash. She grips your collar, flinging you away from the wall. 
You land in the middle of your foyer, sputtering and coughing, trying to get as much air into your lungs as possible. 
Straightening her posture, the woman turns. Her condescending eyes laced with hatred trained on you. She stalks over to you, like a lioness hunting its prey. 
“You pathetic, ignorant mortal. I shall just have to educate you. My name is Nomia.”
She observes as your eyes flash with recognition, “So you have heard of me.”
You recoil slightly. This was Nomia? Joshua and Minghao were right. She was terrifying.
Concealing your fear as best as you could, you fiddled with the feather that you had managed to grab before Nomia flung you. You could only hope that Minghao would receive the alert. For now, you would have to stall her. You stared right into her eyes, saying sarcastically, “Of course I have. I’ve heard you’re a notorious annoying, wicked, selfish, conceited, power hungry bitch who has no regard for anyone else but herself.”
Nomia chuckled darkly, “You forgot to mention. I’m also beautiful and powerful.”
“You just proved my point.”
“You also forgot one other important thing. I’m Joshua’s betrothed. And as his betrothed, I order you to leave him alone for the rest of your life. I also order you to apologise to me, for trying to steal what belongs to me. He’s mine, and I don’t want him to be burdened with the likes of you.”
At her mention of Joshua, the memories of all the pain she caused him flashed through your mind. All the suffering Joshua went through because of her, and the suffering he would go through in the future because of her. He didn’t deserve to go through any of that. Your blood was boiling by now, and you snapped. 
You weren’t sure where the courage came from, but you were on your feet in an instant. You raised your hand, swiftly delivering a slap to Nomia’s face, your palm making contact with her cheek with a satisfying crack.  
“YOU DON’T EVEN DESERVE TO SAY HIS NAME. Joshua doesn’t deserve any of this. He doesn’t deserve to have to be bound to someone who doesn’t even love him. He doesn’t deserve to be with someone who only wants to use him for your own gain. You see him as someone who you can control and manipulate. You want to strut him around, showing off that you own the only male naiad in existence. He just wants to be free and happy. He deserves to be free and happy, with someone who loves him. And that’s certainly not you.” You growled.
Nomia’s eyes darkened further, “His desires and wants are of no consequence to me.”
Livid, you raised your hand to slap Nomia again. Just as your hand was about to make contact, she caught your wrist. She squeezed your wrist tightly, making you cry out in pain, “You know, for a pathetic mortal, you’re even dumber than I thought. Don’t you know that nymphs are vengeful creatures? You stepped between me and Joshua. You turned him against me, you tainted him with your mortal desires. You raise your voice to me, and then you dare to lay a hand on me? You will bow before me.”
Tears pricked the side of your eyes. You were aching and bruised everywhere. Your wrist was on fire. If Nomia squeezed any harder, she would break your wrist. You wanted to scream, to cry and yell. But, you refused to show any form of weakness to Nomia. You would not submit to her. You said, “I did nothing of that sort. It was your pursuit for power that turned him against you.”
Nomia twisted your wrist, looking pleased when she heard your scream. She leered, “Very well then. Since you still can’t get it into your brain that you should be wallowing at my feet for forgiveness right now. Just know that it was your own stubbornness that led us to this point. I shall have to punish you and Joshua for your actions against me.”
Your blood ran cold at the threat she issued next, “Perhaps I should strip him of his powers, or shall I mutilate him? He doesn’t need all his limbs to carry out his duties, nor his manhood for that matter since I am not marrying him for love or physical pleasure…”
“Stop! Don’t hurt him!” You cried desperately.
Nomia sneered at your reaction, “I wasn’t finished. I could do all those things… Or… you could take the punishment. You would let me punish you in whatever way pleases me most won’t you? After, you’ll never return to the creek, and you won’t interact with Joshua ever again. Agree to those terms and I promise I won’t hurt Joshua.”
Without hesitation, you made your choice. Resolutely, you said, “I agree.”
Within you, your heart was breaking. You failed to keep Nomia at bay. You failed Joshua. You had allowed your delusions that you and Joshua would be safe, happy, and in love for years to come overtake your senses. And you had convinced Joshua of that too. But ultimately, your delusions of grandeur were just that, delusions. You should have been more realistic. You whimpered, knowing that you were going to be forcefully ripped apart from each other. 
Your mind was reeling. While you were terrified of what suffering would befall upon you, you couldn’t let her hurt Joshua. He was too precious to you. You adored all of him from his mannerisms, his cheeky personality, and especially the love-struck behaviour that he only showed to you. He was finally happy… 
Nomia was right. You were just a mortal, a human. You couldn’t stand up to a powerful nymph. You were completely helpless in this situation. You couldn’t even guarantee that Nomia would keep her promise not to harm Joshua. You also knew that Joshua would continue to suffer at her hands in the future but you had to protect him as best as you could right now. You would do anything for him. Stilling your heart, you resigned yourself to your fate, muttering an apology to Joshua hoping that he would find it in his heart to forgive you one day for the choice you made. Even if you had to give up everything, you would protect him. 
Pleased with you choice, Nomia gaffawed, a wicked smile spread across her face, “so be it.”
She dropped your wrist, causing you to fall to the ground in a heap, cradling your broken wrist to your chest. Nomia waved her hand lightly around you. 
She nodded in satisfaction, turning to leave, only to find that her exit had been blocked by Minghao. 
His eyes travelled to you all hunched over and whimpering in pain on the ground. 
Flying into a fury, Minghao rushed to your side protectively. He boomed, “What did you do?”
Completely unphased, Nomia said, “Nothing much. I just put that mortal in their place. It’s as simple as that.”
“Leave. Leave before I call Seungcheol.” Minghao ordered, moving to usher Nomia out the door. 
Making her way out of your house, Nomia laughed deviously, “Despite being the God of time, even Seungcheol would not be able to reverse what I’ve done. Just try and reverse it, the spell will only hurt the mortal more. Enjoy the consequences of your poor choices. Ta ta!”
As she said that, you began to be shrouded in a dark green mist. The mist stung your eyes and burned your lungs, causing the tears you had been holding in now to run freely down your face. The mist continued to swirl and travel around you. The room began to spin. Your eyelids felt heavy. You fell onto the ground, unable to move. The last thing you saw before the mist completely consumed you was Minghao crying your name and running to you with an alarmed expression painted across his face. 
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
Something was wrong, Joshua thought. You were supposed to meet him 2 hours ago. You were never late. And with the exception of those few weeks when you were mad at him, you never missed a meeting with him by the creek. 
Pacing around nervously, Joshua continued to take frequent glances towards the forest that he always saw you disappear into when you left for home. For some reason, the forest looked even denser and darker than the last time he saw it. 
Joshua debated as to whether he should try to go into the forest to look for you. The forest was full of dangerous wild animals that would gladly devour a human if given the chance to. Or, he could be wrong. You could just be late. There was a first time for everything. Scoffing that he even entertained that thought, he made up his mind. He was going to go look for you. 
After stepping into the forest, Joshua’s quest to look for you was interrupted by the rustling of the foliage next to the creek. He turned, scurrying out to see who it was. He skidded to a halt, the blood draining from his face instantly as he laid eyes on Nomia. It would appear that you and Joshua were out of time. 
“What are you doing here?” Joshua demanded, glaring at Nomia. 
“I could ask you the same thing,” Nomia countered. 
Strolling leisurely over to Joshua, Nomia looked around, nodding approvingly of how beautiful the place was. 
Joshua burned with anger seeing Nomia stroll all over the place like she owned it. This was supposed to be your oasis, your refuge. How dare she sanctity of the place.
“You have no right to be here,” Joshua hisses.
Nomia strolls over to him, saying casually, “As your betrothed I do. The person who had no right to be here was that pathetic mortal. Y/n, was it?”
Joshua’s heart leapt into his throat. She knew about you?
Enjoying the sight of Joshua’s terror, Nomia grinned, “Oh? So I was right. Don’t worry now my pet. I’ve taken care of business. We’ll be left alone now. No one will come between us.”
“WHAT DID YOU DO?” Joshua roared.
Placing her hand on Joshua’s face, Nomia smirks, “Don’t worry about it pet. Mere mortals shouldn’t come between superior beings like us. I’ve taken care of it. Now, just be a good little pet and obey me, hmm?”
Joshua slapped Nomia’s hand away, “don’t touch me. I’ll only ask you once more. What. Did. You. Do.”
Nomia’s eyes darkened, she smiled sinisterly, “They laid eyes on what’s mine. In return, I simply made sure your beloved would never see you again. They were oh so obedient as well, agreeing to my terms as long as I agreed not to hurt you.”
Joshua stilled at her revelation. What did you agree to? He wasn’t worth whatever sacrifice you made… 
Letting out a gut-wrenching scream, Joshua lunged at Nomia, sending a powerful wave of water towards her. Deflecting the water with a small flick of her wrists, Nomia grabbed Joshua by his neck. Applying just enough pressure so he would feel her strength, but not enough to cut off his airways, Nomia sneered, “You’re certainly more powerful than before. But still not strong enough. I guess you already know that by now since you weren’t able to save your mortal. You should have heeded my advice not to engage with others. Really, it’s your own fault that your mortal is in such a state. Allow me to enlighten you on what transpired. Your mortal was on the floor, writhing in pain when I was through with them.”
Joshua scowls at her, trying to pull himself away from her, only to feel her grip tighten slightly. Nomia clicked her tongue, “I really wish you would all stop struggling. It’s beginning to bore me. Listen closely pet. Know your place. You’re my pet. I own you. You’re just a play thing to me, something I can use to gain more power and notoriety. Nothing more and nothing less. Still, you are somewhat useful so your safety is secured. Your mortal on the other hand… I wonder how much pain they can withstand?”
Squinting at Joshua, Nomia continues, “It’s your turn to make a choice. Stay by my side obediently, and I will leave your mortal alone. Refuse me and your mortal shall suffer a pain worse than death.”
Joshua glared at Nomia, clawing at her hands until she let him go. Gasping for breath, Joshua growls, “I will never love you.”
Nomia looked at Joshua with disdain, “I’m not demanding your love. That’s worthless to me. I’m demanding your submission and obedience.”
Joshua clenched his fist. He was exhausted from being pushed around by Nomia. Sadly, his hands were tied, he had no choice. Nomia played you both. She used you both as blackmail for the other. But why was it that only you seemed to be suffering? He cursed himself. He really was cursed. Instead of bringing you the love and life you deserved, all he brought you was pain. 
Shaking in anger, Joshua countered, “How would I know that you won’t harm them? I can’t take your word for it. I would need hard proof.”
“You’re in no position to demand anything. But if it will appease you so you do not keep struggling against me, I’ll allow you to visit your mortal every full moon just to see for yourself that they remain unharmed until the day they pass. Mortals live such short lives… Of course, that is on the condition that you’re a good, obedient pet. You will take a guard with you, and you’ll agree not to interact with your mortal.”
Her conditions were more generous than Joshua expected. While he would never be able to interact with you or feel the comfort and love of your embraces ever again, at least he would be able to see you. As long as he had the knowledge that you were safe, he would grit his teeth and live through whatever Nomia demanded of him. 
Musing over Nomia’s terms, Joshua relented, “Fine. However, should there be a moment where you break your promise, our agreement is off.”
Nomia nodded, “Fine.”
Thinking back to the state she left you in, Nomia grinned, “Actually, as a gesture of good faith, I shall allow you to interact with your mortal one last time. You may visit them right now. No guard, no strings attached. You just have to report to my palace tomorrow morning. I have an important meeting with the other Oreads and I require an escort.”  
Joshua perked up at that. Her offer seemed too good to be true, but he wasn’t going to turn down the last chance he would ever have to talk to you, to listen to your melodic voice. He just wanted to hold you in his arms one last time. He also wanted nothing more than to break down and apologise to you for his inability to protect you. He hurriedly took the slip of paper containing your address from Nomia and took off in the direction of your house.
Watching Joshua run off, Nomia licked her lips sadistically, muttering to herself, “Of course, you will come to realise that both of my offers are a double edged sword once you lay eyes on your beloved mortal. Let this serve as both a threat and a reminder of what might happen should you break our agreement.”
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
Coming to a stop in front of your door, Joshua raised a hand to knock, only to find himself unable to. It was as if an invisible force was stopping him. Joshua brought his fist down, leaning his head against your door. He could hear voices inside. You were obviously home, and you had company over.
Then it dawned on him. He was terrified and ashamed at the prospect of facing you. He had run all the way here because he wanted to see you, but never stopped to think about whether you wanted to see him. He had put you through so much, and he didn’t even know what Nomia did to you. He failed to protect you. He failed you. Perhaps this was not a good idea after all. Joshua began to pace around your front door, fretting over what your reaction would be to seeing him. 
Meanwhile, inside your house, Minghao was taking frequent, sneaky glances at the door. He felt the presence of a naiad outside, concluding that it was probably Joshua. Honestly, Minghao wanted to storm out and give Joshua a piece of his mind. But he didn’t want to alarm you. You were still recuperating from your encounter with Nomia the other day. He had brought Seungcheol to see if the spell could be undone. Alas, it was as Nomia said, if Seungcheol tried to reverse time on you, the spell would only come back and harm you more. 
Minghao was furious at this turn of events. He hated that you had to experience this much pain. He was furious with Joshua for being the reason why you were suffering, Nomia for being the cause of your suffering, Seungcheol for not being able to help. Most of all, he was furious with himself. He was the one who encouraged you to take the opportunity to go to the creek in the first place. If he never did that, if he never continued to encourage you to make amends with Joshua, none of this would have happened. Filled with regret, Minghao swore that he would protect you, and that he would nurse you back to health.
Minghao breathed in deeply, there was no point in losing his temper now. He should be focusing on you. Turning his attention back to the tea he was brewing, Minghao concentrated on stirring the tea leaves in the teapot. 
“Joshua’s here isn’t he?” 
Your voice startled Minghao, causing him to drop the spoon he was holding. It fell against the tea pot, the sound resonating through your house. There was a pregnant pause before Minghao sighed, “Yes. He’s outside.” There was no point in lying to you or sheltering you from that knowledge now. 
“Hao please…” You pleaded, hesitant to continue with your request. Even if it was only for a moment, you needed to speak to Joshua. 
Minghao walked over to you, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly, “Yea. I’ll get him. I’ll be outside keeping watch. Take as long as you need.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding appreciatively at Minghao. 
Minghao threw the door open, catching Joshua off guard. Joshua stared at Minghao in shock. Minghao walked out, leaving the door open behind him. 
Minghao spoke softly, “I take it you’re Joshua. Y/n has spoken about you a lot. Look. I don’t know how much you know, probably almost everything, judging from your reaction. Whatever it is, just know that they have been through a lot because of you.”
Glancing in the direction of the living room to indicate where you were, Minghao ushered Joshua inside before shutting the door and standing in front of it protectively. 
Gulping, Joshua took a few steps into your house, pausing in front of the entry to your living room. He saw you sitting on your couch, leaning against the headboards with your eyes closed. Your breathing was steady, as if you were sleeping. He took in your appearance, the dark circles under your eyes, the bandage around your wrist, and the bruises that littered your body. He felt himself shaking again. Nomia really hurt you. 
He gingerly approached you. He called softly, “Darling? It’s me…” only to gasp and recoil in horror at what he saw when you opened your eyes. 
Joshua had tried to brace himself for what he might see. He thought your tender, love filled gaze would be replaced by one that was burning in hatred for him. But nothing, nothing, could prepare him for this.
Your bright eyes, the ones that he loved gazing into for hours, the ones that captured his attention all those months ago, the ones that twinkled under the sunlight, sparkled under the reflection of the water from the creek’s surface, the ones that always looked at him like he created the entire universe. Your eyes he loved so much, they were gone, replaced by dull, lifeless, cloudy irises. He recognised the thin dark green shimmer around your irises. There was no doubt that you were under a permanent curse by Nomia. 
Reality started to sink in, and Joshua cradled his head in his hands helplessly, his heart shattering.
You had been blinded. You were now blind. And it was because you were trying to protect him. 
Joshua dove to your side, crumbling onto the ground in a heap in front of you. He wailed into your lap, repeating the words, “I’M SORRY” over and over. His body shook as sobs racked his body. Tears fell down his cheeks uncontrollably, soaking your clothes. Completely distraught and on the verge of hyperventilating, Joshua grasped at your clothes desperately, as if fearful that you were about to disappear and slip through his fingers. 
Feeling around, you rested your hand on top of Joshua’s head, running your fingers through his hair to soothe him. His hair was getting long. If he wanted to keep his undercut, he would need to get a haircut soon. It was odd. Despite the room being filled with the sounds of Joshua’s sobs and your clothes being soaked with his tears, you felt oddly empty. Perhaps it was because you had no more tears left to cry, having spent the last few days in Minghao’s embrace as you cried from the traumatic  experience.
Finally, Joshua’s sobs died down, though his body was still trembling. Tracing the outline of Joshua’s face until you could cup his face in your hands, you tilted his head upwards so he was now looking at you from his position on the floor. Softly, you began, “Shua…”
Cutting you off, Joshua blubbered, “Darling... I’m sorry. I failed to protect you… I failed you…”
Gently, you wiped the stray tears that rolled down his face, “Shua… it’s okay. As long as you’re safe, I… I’m at peace with my decision.”
“It’s not fair! Why did you do it? WHY? I could have… I would take any punishment if it meant you were safe,” Joshua whimpered.
“That’s exactly why I did it. I love you. I couldn’t let you get hurt. You have so much more of your life to live. You shouldn’t have to be burdened with this curse. It’s okay love.”
“NO! It’s not. It should have been me,” Joshua cried.
You sighed, there was no way you could console him now. Joshua was too consumed by grief and regret. Shifting yourself so you were on the floor next to him, you wrapped your arms around him. However, your actions only made him begin to sob again. 
Your heart cried out, aching at the sounds of his sobs. With tears beginning to prick your eyes, you tried hushing him gently, “Shhh… It’s okay… Shua…”
“I couldn’t save you,” Joshua whispers brokenly.
You swallowed a sob, your voice breaking at how broken and exhausted he sounded, “But you already did. You’re my Joshua. My Shua. You’ve lived up to your name. You’ve provided me with so much salvation and solace during whatever time we spent together. I was really, really happy when I was with you and I’ll treasure those memories forever.”
“It’s not fair. The world is too cruel…” Joshua managed to choke out.
You fought back your tears. You had to remain strong for him, to ease his guilt and pain. You replied, “The world is indeed cruel, but I’m so glad that even in this cruel world, I managed to meet you. I love you. I always have and I always will.”
Joshua shook in your arms, “I love you too. Only you. You have my heart and soul, now and forevermore.”
Sniffling, Joshua pulled away from you, affirming resolutely, “I’ll still visit you. I promise.”
“And I’ll know when you do.”
“How?” Joshua asks, wiping his tears to stare at you wide eyed.
You chew the insides of your cheek for a moment. You point at your nose, “You smell like petrichor, the smell of the earth after it rains. It’s always stronger whenever you’re near.”
Smiling reassuringly at Joshua, the corners of your eyes still crinkling as you teased, “I might have lost my sight, but my other senses are stronger than ever now.”
Through his tears, Joshua smiles back at you adoringly, “I think it’s a little too soon for that joke darling…”
With that, Joshua’s lips quivered once more, “I love you.” 
Whispering in response, you replied, “I love you too.”
Guiding your hands up to his shoulders, you brought him into your embrace again. This time, you both squeezed each other tightly, afraid of letting go. Feeling the sobs wreck through Joshua’s body, your resolve broke. You allowed your tears to fall down your cheeks freely. You both knew this would be the last time you would ever be able to embrace each other like this. So, you both held each other as you wept on the floor of your living room, mourning for the loss of your sight and for the loss of each other. 
At some point, you and Joshua fell asleep in each other’s embrace, completely exhausted and out of tears. When you woke again early the next morning, you shivered, not feeling Joshua’s warmth next to you. The only thing your senses could identify was the strong, lingering scent of petrichor and a familiar leather bound book on the floor right next to your bandaged hand. You touched the engraving on the cover, recognising it as the book of quotes you had lent Joshua all those weeks ago. As you continued to run your fingers over the cover, you felt something pillowy and soft. You recognised the flower immediately. How could you not? This flower grew by the Iremia creek, and you spent plenty of time making flower crowns out of this with Joshua.
You gripped the flower gently, clutching it to your heart. You hunched over, covering your mouth to muffle your wails. Joshua had left you with a forget me not flower. 
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
And so, your relationship with Joshua came to a close. But for years to come after, until the end of your days, Joshua took advantage of his agreement with Nomia and made good on his promise. Every full moon, he would visit you, watching you lovingly from a distance. It soothed his heart a little to know that you had eventually recovered and that you were safe, though nothing could ever fix the jagged hole in his heart and soul made by the choice he was forced to make, the one which forced him to walk away from the person he loved more than anything in the world. 
On your end, you tried to return to live your life as normally as you could. However, you knew whenever Joshua visited you. The strong scent of petrichor that wafted and lingered through the air was indicative of that. Inhaling the scent was comforting. You were comforted with the knowledge that Joshua was still watching over you, and that he still loved you. Yet, the scent of petrichor also made your heart ache. It served as a painful reminder of your time with Joshua, and how your love was real, but how life’s circumstances tore you both apart, forbidding you from being together. 
𓇼 ༄ ᨒ .𖥔 ݁
ᨒ Petrichor (noun): the scent of the earth after rain. Some would describe the scent as distinctively earthy, pleasant, and sweet. But to you and Joshua, the scent would remain as a constant reminder of where your hearts were, where your home and family was, where you could take refuge, who you could take refuge with, the love that you had shared, and the love that could not be. 
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taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies @mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii @scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee @zaggprincess2 @nonononranghaee
petrichor taglist: @amoryeonjun @hipsdofangirl @valenhui @yoonzinoooo @fantasies-of-a-bookworm @shuasdraftsalt
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htchnr · 7 months
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★ thrill of the hunt ❥ A. HOTCHNER.
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➻❥ masterlist. ➻❥ patreon. ➻❥ kinktober masterlist.
🎃 KINKTOBER PROMPT ➥ hunting kink + unsub!hotch.
CW ➥ outdoor sex ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ piv sex ⋆ semi public sex ⋆ creampie ⋆ slight knifeplay ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!
WC ➥ 1,8k. SONG ➥ tear you apart , she wants revenge.
SUMMARY ➥ he’s restless. he hasn’t been on a hunt in a while, in fact, since you’ve been together. you’ve never told him to stop, but you can sense he doesn’t want you to see that side of him, coming home late at night covered in blood that isn’t his. so you help him in your own way.
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★ - © 2023 HTCHNR. do not copy, share or translate my work to this platform, or any other! - ★
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he’s restless. he hasn’t been on a hunt in a while, in fact, since you’ve been together. you’ve never told him to stop, but you can sense he doesn’t want you to see that side of him, coming home late at night covered in blood that isn’t his. the novelty of domestic life suits him, he likes cuddling with you, lazy mornings.
tonight though, you watch his side profile as he reads, watch his eyes flick over the same page several times, unseeing. he fidgets his knee up and down and slides his hand over his jaw, tapping a finger against his top lip. he’s so handsome, warm looking, alluring, and you realize with a rush that goes from your head to your cunt that you want him.
“hey.” you say, breaking the taut silence of the room, he looks up from his book, blue eyes focussed on yours. “i want us to play a game.” he stares at you while you explain your idea, smirking first with amused adoration, then slightly patronizing as he tilts his head.
“hide and seek? with me that wouldn’t be much of a game honey.”
“no.” shaking your head you stand and stretch your limbs, reveling in the way his dark eyes track your movements.
“i want you to hunt me.”
he pauses, thinking it through for a second. “since you interrupted my reading you better run extra fast.” he almost growls then, his usually sweet eyes gone impossibly dark.
“get to running sweetheart.” his voice low and threatening almost.
“fuck fuck fuck” you mutter out loud, almost forgetting that the whole point of the game is for him to find you. suddenly it feels very real. after all, he’s a killer, using both stealth and skill. one girl is nothing to him, a speck of dirt that is easily rubbed out.
reminding yourself that this man loves you and would never kill you doesn’t stop the pounding in your heart as you pause at a fallen tree, wondering if you can fit inside. you realize the game is exciting you just as much, even though you’ve done this for him, to help his boredom, you feel simultaneously afraid and aroused— it’s confusing as hell.
when people hide on tv or in films it’s never so messy. you cringe as dirt slides over your skin from the tree, matted leaves catch in your hair and your legs are awkwardly twisted. still, you’re inside the rotted trunk, and you’re hidden, at least to regular human eyes. you don’t have to lay still for long before you hear him coming. he’s not attempting to be quiet, but is humming under his breath, almost taunting you.
“i’m coming to get you sweetheart..” he sing-songs and you bite your lip not to whimper.
his footsteps pause, and you imagine him, scanning the trees for any sign of you. the urge to see him in his hunter pose is too much and you peek out through a crack in the tree trunk, you can’t resist a look, even if it costs you the game. he stood, the darkness of the night swallowing him along with the darkness of the forest.
his attitude has changed, and he looks nothing like the soft, charming man you’re used to seeing everyday. his shoulders are tight, his hands twitching by his sides— his left hand hovering above his knife that sits in it’s sheath. he’s grinning, his eyes are two black focused orbs, sweeping the scene.
it is amazing to see him like this, and as he moves towards you in one smooth, animalistic movement fear combines with desire, licking up the bottom of your spine. almost ripping the tree apart he unearths you, pulling you out from your hiding place, his hands under your armpits, lifting you as if you’re a child, or a rag doll— the ice cold blade of the knife pressed against your throat.
“i told you to run” he murmurs, the look in his eyes is dangerous, his chest is heaving with panting breaths, his voice is rough and low and betrays his arousal even if you couldn’t see the outline of his cock pressing hard against the fly of his jeans.
“i did” you whimper as he glares and bends his head to kiss you unrelentingly, nipping your bottom lip viciously.
“not far enough, not fast enough.”
“i tried Aaron, let me up…” you struggle intentionally weak against him and he holds you easily with a snide look in his eyes.
“i won the game.. i should get my prize.”
“your prize? oh… “ you words dissolve into a shameless moan as he simultaneously bites your neck and the cold knife tears through your shirt, his rough hands groping your breasts and pinching your nipples. You moan as you move your fingers to his zipper, yanking it down and pull his aching cock out, hot and throbbing against your palm as you stroke him. his mouth falls open as he lets out a strained breath, moving his larger hand on top of yours to force you to speed up your strokes. he seems to want it rough, and you feel exactly the same way.
his hands hold you easily, cupping your spine as he shoves you down on a patch of dry leaves. he crawls on top of you, his hips jerking a little as if of their own accord. “put your hands above your head.” he commands with a raspy voice and you nod, following the direction, twisting them together as if bound, and looking up at him imploringly.
pinning you with a glare he kisses you again moving his hand inside your underwear— swearing when he finds you soaking, pushing two fingers inside you desperate to feel your heat, before he regains control of himself and moves them teasingly in and out, never quite hard or deep enough. “i see.. you like this, you like the chase?” he asks. you moan pathetically, eyes rolling back.
“i like being caught.” you pant, trying to grind down against his hand hard enough to get yourself off.
“turn over.” he groans. “if you like being hunted like an animal i’m going to fuck you like one.”
thrilled, you scramble on all fours, glad to be off the hard ground— you wonder somewhere in the back of your mind if he’s doing this for your comfort. he hovers over you and you hear the clink of metal as he undoes his belt, the sound sending an unexpected bolt of arousal through you, he pulls back on your hips so your ass is cushioned against him and pushes inside you with one smooth stroke, not waiting to let you adjust before starting to move. you cry out as he sinks in and out over and over.
you clench your eyes shut as you shamelessly moan. he grins darkly, moving his fingers between your legs and rubbing your clit as he plows deeper inside you. you scramble for something to hold but he just holds you, fucking into you and you have no choice just to let him bounce you on his cock, let him touch you until you feel as if you were about to explode.
“Aaron! fuck.. please..” you plead, not even sure what you’re begging for as he slides one hand up your throat, pressing the cold blade flat against the hot skin of your throat. your thighs pressing together make you feel even tighter to him, and the sounds leaving his lips against your ear, the filth spilling from his usually smooth and composed self even during sex gives you a clue he’s just as lost as you are.
“scream all you want, no one can hear you out here.." he mutters in your ear. His lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he urges you towards your climax both with his filthy words and the never ending stroke of his fingers against your sensitive bundle of nerves. bucking back against him you let yourself go, clenching around him and riding out the pleasure as you cry out, tears trickling down your cheeks. he holds you as you fall apart, pausing just to revel in the sensations before he picks up his brutal pace again, the knife being thrown down into the dirt as his arm reaches around your throat, resting against your shoulders.
he thrusts a few more times, his balls slapping against your cunt so deliciously as he finally comes inside you with a loud guttural moan, his warm cum painting your walls as he fucks it into you.
He pulls out, his sticky cum pouring out of your abused hole— dropping onto the leaves with obscene splats. he hovers above you on the forest floor for a few moments before he comes back to himself, realizing you’re both outside at night on damp leaves amongst bugs and god knows what else. he let’s out a shuddered groan as pulls you up. your knees shake shamefully and you lean into his solid side with a grateful sigh.
he helps you back to the house, shoving you in front of the fireplace, not speaking while he fusses round you, washing the dirt off your face with a warm washcloth, picking the leaves out of your hair and frowning at the scratches on your arms as if they personally offended him.
“i’m okay..” you reassure him, your eyes heavy with post-sex bliss. you wonder how you can convince him that you enjoyed the game and that you are not so breakable as he thinks. he knows you well though, and as he lifts you up to bed and pulls you on top of him, your head resting on his hot chest. he nips at your ear, sending a wave of lust through your exhausted body.
“we are definitely doing that again..” squealing quietly with glee you hug him tighter to you and slowly fall asleep, happy knowing you have a man who is willing to take such good care of you, but also fuck you into the ground with a knife against your throat if you ask for it.
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TAGLIST ➥ @toastbrot8410 @mrs-ssa-hotch @fictionallifestuff @weirdothatwritess @crystalflwr @stella95827 @taintedstranger @mija-novella @gffesegjoiegj @bubbly-parker @mediocremalachor15 @goldenangelwingsandcandy @0nex-is-dead0 @2hiigh2cry @the-1n0nly @hotchsdharma @tgskitten @crystlroses @notforeverlong @emmeilyy @whatisthereality
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thoughtsfromlayla · 2 months
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If I Dream Hard Enough
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Summary: Morpheus' daughter Elise wants you to become her mommy against every odd in the world. Will you?
Notes: ~8.1k words. Happy birthday to @givingmyhearttoyou, this is for you, you fabulous human. Also, this fic was supposed to be like 1k words long and now... well! Hope you guys like it, sorry it took so long
Warnings: MDNI, 18+, ModernAU!Dream, DaughterDad!Dream, slow burn(?), smut, P in V, unprotected sex (yikes), fingering, slight angst all comfort, don't worry you guys get together in the end
Masterlist
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You knew of Morpheus several months ago when he stopped at the restaurant you worked at to pick up an order for his daughter. At that time, you didn’t officially meet him, you just thanked him as he left the door as the other two waitresses did. Then for the past few months, he has been a regular, always sitting in your section right after dinner rush. You thought it was planned out by the way the two other waitresses snickered whenever they saw him there. 
You didn’t mind. He was a great customer and always left good tips and he often brought his daughter along. And while she was still young, about 7 years old since the last time you asked her, she was often a highlight of your week. Elise often brings you a wildflower she finds, growing in her garden to bring to you. Each time you accept with a smile and Morpheus is there watching. 
The day that Morpheus came in without Elise, the restaurant was dead silent. The other two waitresses had left early and you were left to defend the shack. So, you sat down with him and had a meal with him. He asked you about your life and you asked about his. You learn that his wife and he had separated after the unfortunate death of their first child and that he works as a psychiatrist for those who have trouble sleeping. He has a pet Raven named Matthew and for Halloween last year, his daughter made him dress up as a scarecrow named Mervin. 
After that conversation, the two of you grew closer as friends instead of your previous professional relationship. The first time that you met with Morpheus outside of work was when Elise invited you to watch her theater performance. She was cast as Wendy in the year’s show Peter Pan and you couldn’t have been happier to come along.
Morpheus had picked you up at 6:30 PM on the dot later that week. You wore something nice and comfortable for the early spring winds. Your heeled boots clacked against the concrete pavement as you made your way from the front door to Morpheus’s car. He was waiting for you by the passenger door, leaning against the sleek black design that matched his outfit well. 
When he saw you approaching, he smiled and offered the door for you. 
“Thank you,” You smiled as you got into the car. It smelled nicely of leather and a hint of McDonald’s french fries, probably a small lunch for Elise before her show tonight. 
“Did you have dinner yet?” Morpheus asked after he put on his seat belt. 
“No, not yet,” You say. It was a bit too early for dinner for you. Plus, you told yourself that the show would only last an hour so, you could just make something when you got home anyway. 
“Great,” Morpheus practically beams, in his nonchalant way. He places his hand on the back of your headrest and looks at you. “Elise wanted to go out tonight after her show, you should join us.”
Heat blooms across your cheeks and ears at how close he was to you. You smell his cologne and you feel like you’re going to go dizzy. But you bravely push through it. 
“Y-yeah, that sounds lovely.” You say, turning your head to look straight ahead. He looks behind you as he backs out of the driveway of your small house. 
When the two of you arrived at the school, it was surprisingly packed. Quite a few other parents were waiting in line to get a spot for their car in the limited parking lot. And luckily, Morpheus was able to find a spot near the middle. When you opened the door, Morpheus was already waiting for you on the other side, he held his arm out and offered it to you. 
“Why, thank you very much,” You smile, going along with it. The wind blew a bit harsher as the sun’s final rays disappeared from the horizon and you subconsciously huddled closer to Morpheus for a bit of extra warmth as the two of you walked toward the school entrance. 
Morpheus removes his arm from you and you frown a bit. You recover quickly, maybe he decided against it, and that’s fine. The next moment, his long wool peacoat is draped over your shoulders. The smell of him envelopes you as the warmth seems through your clothes. The warmth of your cheeks returns and you feel like you’re blushing to the highlands
“Won’t you be cold?” You ask, your hands grabbing at the opening of the coat to keep it closer to you.
“No,” He says and hands the lady a five-dollar bill for two tickets. His arm extends out again in invitation and you take it happily. 
The tickets gave you two some good seats, not too far back and not too close to the stage where you would have to crane your neck for the whole show. Before you took your seat, you took off Morpheus’ jacket and folded it in your arms. Then a lady stops the two of you in the aisle of the auditorium, right before your seats. 
“Morpheus!” She exclaims and walks towards the two of you.
“Oh, Jesus,” Morpheus mutters under his breath and hides it with a cough. “Hello, Becky.”
“Why, I haven’t seen you in years, not since my little William’s birthday those years ago.” She goes in for a hug, all-embracing and big grins. Her hoop earrings jingle with the rest of her jewelry: a big statement necklace, and bold silver bracelets on each arm. She sported a leopard print blouse and her round hips had some brown slacks to match the spots. 
Her hair had large curls, just recently blown out as she flicked it behind her shoulders. When she finally notices you, her smile drops for a brief moment before it broadens again. 
“Morpheus!” She exclaims again, her hands with fresh manicures going up like a surprised red panda. “I can’t believe you brought a girlfriend!”
“Um, she’s not-” 
Becky interrupts him and grabs onto your shoulders. “Let me take a closer look at you, sweetheart.” 
“Uh, hi,” You say as she gleams at you, looking you up and down and nodding. This was awkward. 
“You. Are. A. Gem!” She annunciates. “You know, I was beginning to worry about how long it was going to take this guy to get into a relationship again.”
“Oh… that’s…” You drift off your words, Becky was starting to make the both of you uncomfortable.  
“Let’s find out seats,” Morpheus interrupted us and you couldn’t have been more grateful. Becky nods as well before passing the two of you to sit somewhere near the back of the auditorium. Morpheus leads you with a warm hand on the small of your back. 
Eventually, the curtains draw back and the lights dim. A tiny Elise is in a makeshift nightgown and pretends to wake up from her bed. Almost immediately she spotted you in the audience and the grin she gave you made your heart clench. You give her a small wave and she waves back before remembering she had lines to deliver. 
===
You and Morpheus wait outside the school auditorium with the other parents and friends who came by to support the elementary play. You had fallen into easy conversation while waiting for Elise to get out of her costume. 
“She looked lovely tonight,” You comment, peaking over shoulders to see if she had come out yet.
“She sure does,” Morpheus says by your side and you miss the way he looks at you. When you turn to look at him again, his direction is directed forward instead. 
“Daddy!” A squealing voice giggles as it comes barreling toward the opposite of everything she embodies. Pink and glitter clashed against midnight black and pale skin. A rare smile pulls at Morpheus’ lips at her hug. 
“Hi, starlight,” He pulls Elise up until she is hoisted on his hip and her arms are securely wrapped around his neck. “Are you hungry?”
Almost comically, her stomach rumbles and she hides her face in the crook of his neck in embarrassment. The two of you laugh and you place a reassuring hand on Elise’s back. After little debate, the three of you are off to some local Italian restaurant. 
After dinner, which Morpheus kindly paid for, it was well past Elise’s bedtime but the little one was as hyper as if it was only noon. The drive back to your house consisted of her talking about rehearsal, her school days, her lunch yesterday, and a project on magnets that she has to finish by next Wednesday. 
The night ended with Morpheus walking you to your door. You stared at him, the fun you had from the night still evident on your face. You find that your cheeks are starting to hurt from how much you’ve been smiling. 
“Goodnight, Morpheus,” You say, one had already on the doorknob. 
Morpheus answers a few seconds later, almost lost in thought. “Right… goodnight,” He whispers and neither of you realize the unconscious step he takes closer to you. His face leans down and you can see the complicated colors of his eyes. 
You give him one last smile before turning the doorknob, unable to break eye contact with him. Before you could enter your house though, Elise rolls down her window from the back seat and shouts at the top of her lungs. 
“Goodnight Mommy!”
Your face snaps towards her, jaw unhinge and remains gaping open at her outburst. You turn to look at Morpheus, shock still evident on your face and you are greeted with a similar expression. His shoulders raised and stiff and if he were to open his eyes anymore, they might as well have popped out of his sockets.
“Elise!” He hollered from your doorstep. “I’m so sorry.” He quickly apologizes before briskly walking down the long driveway. 
Elise giggles from her backseat and the light heart sound fades as she rolls up her window again. Morpheus stares at her through the tinted backseat window before sighing and climbing into the driver’s seat. He gives a small awkward wave before leaving your driveway for the night. 
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Somewhere along the year that you had known the two, you had caught feelings for the tall brooding act. But, love is difficult and while you love the both of them dearly, it is not his love to accept if he didn’t want it. You wouldn’t blame Morpheus for not being ready for that type of relationship, even if his daughter were to think differently. You overthought to the brink of exhaustion, but time waits for no one. You had rent to pay and customers to serve. 
A couple of weeks after, it was dead again. Just one customer sitting in your section, their refilled drink in your hands. The cool night air blasted through the front door and your heart clenched in your chest when you saw the new customers. Elise stands behind Morpheus, hand holding onto his much larger one. 
When she sets her eyes on you, her eyes glimmer in excitement.
“Hi, Mommy!” She giggles and runs towards you, hugging you around your legs. 
From your peripheral, you see Morpheus sigh and your heart sinks. You adore this child, but at the end of the day, she’s not yours to adore. Your smile drops slightly at the realization. 
“I thought your dad told you not to call me that?” You say to her jokingly, even if, to you, it was no joking matter.
“Well, my daddy says that if I dream hard enough, you will become my mommy.” She states, matter of factly. Her hands release from your legs and prop themselves on her hips. She looks up at you with adoration fit for a king and a toothy smile full of braces. The confession takes the breath out of you and gives you a breath of relief in the next inhale. 
“Is that so?” With a smile, you quirk up an eyebrow and look past her small figure on Morpheus. Blush looks great on his skin, you think to yourself when you see the blood creep up his neck and over his cheeks. 
He avoids your gaze, instead finding fascination in his not-so-new shoes. Wow, they sure look like shoes tonight, he thinks to himself as he puckers his lips in deep thought. You smile at the sight, of a large daunting man turned into almost nothing by his daughter’s comment. 
You seat the two and go about your job for the rest of the night. When Morpheus was ready to leave you bring his check to him and he pulls you aside. 
“Do you have time this weekend?” He asks while taking out his credit card. 
“Yeah, I do actually. My friend canceled at the last minute on some plans we had, why?” You ask back. 
Before Morpheus could respond, Elise pops into your field of view. She stands on the booth, hands propping on the table almost spilling over her kid’s cup of lemonade. 
“Daddy has to go to a… um, conserferants. He’s going to teach other doctors about something he learned!” 
“Yes, that,” Morpheus confirms. “I will be gone for the weekend and will not return until late. Elise wants to know if you would be willing to babysit her?” 
You look between the two, Elise giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes she could muster - and it was working. 
“I will pay you, of course,” Morphes quickly adds when you don’t answer immediately. 
“Please, pleeeease?” Elise asks, she goes in for another hug, arms wrapping around your chest at her new given height, and looks at you again with a pout. “Please?”
“Oh, alright,” You can’t say no to her. Squeals fall out of her mouth as she jumps on the booth, the cheap springs squeaking underneath. 
“Here,” Morpheus says handing you a napkin with his home address on it and after a few more exchanges of pleasantries, the two were on their way. You were to be at Morpheus’s house on Friday at 3:00 PM. 
The rest of the week goes by fast, each day that brings you closer to seeing Elise again and taking care of her for the weekend has your heart pounding in your chest. What if you set the house on fire? What if you accidentally serve her a knife in her sandwich or something? These thoughts follow you until you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Morpheus’ house and a trembling finger presses the doorbell. 
When the door opens to tall, dark, and mysterious, it is quickly subdued with the aggressive cawing of a raven. Its black wings spread as it flies onto Morpheus’ shoulder and caws at you again. Confusion clouds your mind for a moment before you remember about the pet raven he mentioned a few months ago. 
“Matthew, right?” You smile and give a small wave to the bird. 
Morpheus sighs and nods. “Yes, but you need not worry about him. He will be coming with me.” 
“I’m Matthew!” It caws and your eyes go wide.
“He talks?” You unapologetically point at the bird as it stares at you with a turned head. 
“Ravens raised in captivity can learn to imitate human voices, yes. Though, I would not go as far as to brag about talking. More like… mocking.” 
He stands to the side and allows you inside. Morpheus’ house was, well, the best way to explain it was an organized chaos. Toys were everywhere, breakfast plates were still on the dining room table, and Matthew’s enrichment toys were in places you never thought a bird could drop things. That being said, the hallways were clean, the house smelled of fresh air, and the interior decoration was deliberately placed. 
Morpheus gives you a quick tour of his house, the first stop being the kitchen, everything has a place and everything is in place. The fridge and pantry were both stocked and you could immediately think of a few easy recipes to cook for you and Elise for the next few days. Next was the joined sun room, and you stared in awe at beautifully displayed stained glass. It shined a rainbow of colors over the entire wooden room. Ivy plants swung from the ceiling and sunlight covered floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in a coat of warmth. 
The rest of the tour was simple, Elise’s room which was an explosion of pink and ocean blue with Barbies and legos on the floor, and lastly Morpheus’ room. 
“You are permitted to stay in my room.” He says as he enters the space with you following closely behind. The entire room was based around a midnight blue color which you found comforting. It was neat, unlike a certain daughter’s, and has a lone suitcase sitting on the bed, already packed and ready to go. 
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” You’re quick to interject. The king-sized bed and soft duvet call your name, but it felt personal. And are you that personal with Morpheus yet? 
“I insist,” He says, hand on his suitcase and Matthew swoops down to stand on the box instead.
“No, really, I can sleep on the couch or-”
“I insist,” He repeats and it didn’t seem like much of a choice. 
“Fine, you’re very persuasive, you know?” You joke and you see his lips twitch into a smile for a moment. 
The squealing of rusty wheels and then the collective commotion of children stop your tour a bit short and the front door bursts open to giggles. You knew that laugh like the back of your hand, and you both went into the living room to greet Elise. 
“Daddy! You’re still here!” She exclaims and throws her backpack onto the couch, the shimmering glitter of princesses catching briefly on the sunlight from the large windows. 
Her hands reach up and does a grabbing motion to which Morpheus picks her up and props her on his hip. It doesn’t last long as she soon lands her eyes on you. 
“Mommy!” She squeals in excitement and starts squirming in her dad’s arms until he relinquishes her.
She barrels her way towards you and launches herself into you, giving you no choice but to grab and pick her up so she doesn’t slam into you. She’s soon holding on to your neck as you hold her and your smile grows bigger. 
“Elise,” Morpheus warns and at his sudden shift of tone, Elise buries her head into your neck, knowing that she got in trouble again for calling you that. The mood of the house sudden brought down and seemingly so did the temperature. 
You hold onto her tighter as Morpheus’ frown deepens. “Elise,” He calls out again, this time his arms folded over each other. “We’ve talked about this.”
“La, la, la, I can’t hear you,” She murmurs into your neck, holding on tighter to you. 
Morpheus sighs and comes closer, placing a hand over her back, and starts rubbing smooth circles. Wetness soon coats your skin as you realize that Elise has started crying. Her trembling shoulders and hiccups were soon to follow and you and Morpheus shared a concerned look. 
“I want a mommy,” She chokes into your shirt. “She’s my mommy…” 
Morpheus and you share a look again. His face was apologetic and worried at his daughter’s sudden confession. Children have no filter and what they say is what they mean. How can you leave her like this when she so clearly expresses what she wants?
“Okay, Elise,” You soothe as you pet her hair. “Let’s say goodbye to Daddy first and then we can grab a snack.” 
Elise peaks out from the little hidey-hole of your neck and gives a small wave to her dad which he reciprocates. Morpheus leans in close to the point where you can smell his subtle cologne and aftershave and he gives a quick peck to Elise’s hairline. 
“Be good, Elise. I’ll be back in a few days.” He says and brushes her hair away from her face to reveal red eyes and a runny nose. 
“Bye Daddy,” She says back but doesn’t find the courage to meet his eyes. 
He sighs again before going into his room to grab his suitcase. You follow him to the door, Elise still latched onto you, but now her breaths have evened out. 
Morpheus looks back when he’s just outside the door, storm clouds are rolling in and you can smell the petrichor in the late spring winds. He gives you another look of concern to which you simply nod in understanding. Matthew caws impatiently as large drops of rain start to make their descent. 
“We’ll be fine,” You say as an unconscious hand wraps around Elise again.
Silence is shared between you two, an understanding that there is going to be a heavy topic to talk about when he returns. Until then, Morpheus comes closer and wraps his long arms around the both of you and you stand there stiff. You feel the warmth of his lips press to your cheek before he pulls away. 
He doesn’t explain and instead turns away quickly to get into his car, leaving behind the shocked look on your face. The two of you stand at the entrance as you watch him pull out of his driveway. Elise waves a small hand goodbye as he disappears down the street in fog and rain. 
When Elise sees the last glimpse of her father’s car leaving the horizon she slides off of you and walks to the kitchen. She sits patiently at the kitchen table when you find her again. 
“Can I have a snack?” She asks and swings her legs back and forth. 
The sudden change in her emotions gives you a bit of a whiplash but did as she asks and made her a small snack. After which you clean up the kitchen a bit while she munches away. When she was done, she asks for some help on her weekend homework which you didn’t help much, just guided her back to the paper when her thoughts started to wander. After homework was a simple dinner of chicken parmesan and then you sent Elise off to shower. 
The rain still hadn’t let up and continues to pelt down in harsh drops against the roof. The longer it goes on the more you grow anxious. You never did well in thunderstorms, rainstorms were fine, but as soon as you heard that boom of thunder, you were nothing but a child again, hiding underneath your bed. The monsters under the bed were less scary than the bright flash of light across the sky. 
When Elise comes back out to the common areas after her shower, freshly scented with bubblegum body wash, she finds you in the sunroom. The once cozy space grew cold when the weather changed. You huddled yourself against the corner and stare out the window, absentmindedly looking at the wildflowers that grew in their backyard. Thoughts cloud your mind just like the weather outside, and just like the rain slamming against the glass, you were beating yourself over.
Morpheus seems adamant about not letting Elise call you her mother, so that means he must not want you to be her mother. Your feelings for him had bloomed into something more over the months that you had known him. You subconsciously began chewing on your nails, some odd habit that you still haven’t broken since your high school years. 
Maybe, it would be best for you to stop being friends with Morpheus. You could never ask him to make that kind of decision and instead make that decision for him. It would be easier for both of you, you told yourself - lied to yourself if you wanted to be honest. 
The tugging motion on your shirt pulls you out of your thoughts. Elise stares at you, hair still wet from her shower, and now cozy in her pajamas. 
“What are you thinking about?” She asks you and climbs into your lap. 
Your hand goes to her back to support her as she makes herself at home. 
“Adult things,” You reply vaguely, hoping that she takes the answer. She doesn’t, because of cause she doesn’t. Elise is too bright for her age.
“Is it about how daddy doesn’t like it when I call you mommy?” She questions.
A sharp inhale comes into your lungs as you stare at her. After a few silent seconds, you respond simply. “Yeah.”
A few more seconds go by.
“Do you… want to be my mommy?” She asks again.
“...Yeah, but I don’t think your dad would allow it.” You confess to her. Guilt clouds you, someone as small as her shouldn’t be in the middle of all of this. 
“I want you to be my mommy, too.” She yawns this time and her eyes begin to droop. She leans her head against your chest and her breath starts to slow. 
“I know,” You whisper and when you look at her again, her eyes are closed. You kiss her on her forehead and pet her hair. A sigh leaves you again, decisions, decisions. 
Picking up Elise carefully to not wake her, you make your way to her room and set her carefully in her bed. You tuck her in, extra tight, and turn to leave her room. 
“Mommy,” She calls out groggily.
“Yes?” You say as you turn your attention back to her, kneeling so that you are on the same level as her. 
“I think,” She yawns again. “I think daddy thinks he doesn’t deserve to have a mommy… after what happened to my brother. I think he thinks he did something bad, so he can’t have something good again.” 
Yeah, she’s too bright for her age. 
“Let’s not think about it anymore tonight,” You conclude the conversation with another forehead kiss and she falls back asleep. With one last look at her sleeping form, you leave the room, leaving the door slightly cracked, just in case. 
Your shower was just how you liked it, but your thoughts come back to haunt you in the quiet house. The thoughts follow you, nagging you, as you unpacked your clothes and stacked them on top of Morpheus’s drawer. It still hasn’t left you alone when you changed into your sleepwear and did your face routine. 
You stare at the large empty bed and sigh. It was still relatively early, only 10:00 PM, yet your bones were tired and even though Morpheus said you could use his bed, it still felt wrong. The couch was just fine, but who were you kidding? You climb into the bed and pull the blanket up to your chin. 
The bed smelled like him, the pillows smelled like him, and everything reminded you of him. Perhaps this was a mistake. Oh, but the bed was so comfortable and the rhythmic splattering of the rain lulls you to sleep before you even knew it. 
You wake up to a phone call, and the blinding light makes you squint at the notification. Morpheus was calling and your heart rate skyrockets. You answer and put the phone to your ear. 
“Hello?” You greet and even you can hear the grogginess of your voice. It made you cringe for some reason. 
“How are my girls?” He responds.
Morpheus’ voice is something else and it makes you giddy. It certainly made you feel like a teenage girl again, wanting to kick your feet and scream while running around the house. His voice was somehow better over the phone. Tired, low, and seductive almost - you could fall back asleep to it. 
“We’re doing good,” You start. “Elise has been asleep, homework’s done and all that.” You update him. “How’s your conference?”
“It’s tomorrow, so I can’t say yet.”
“Mhmm,” You reply and you feel sleep tugging at your eyes again. 
Morpheus keeps talking about his day, something about giving Matthew to another friend to look after and the drive to the next few towns over. The words go through your ears on one side and out the other as his voice lulls you to sleep. 
“Are you asleep?” You hear him say from far away. You don’t have the energy to respond. A few seconds later, on the verge of consciousness, you hear his voice again. 
“Goodnight, my dove.”
The three-tone dial is the last thing you hear before you finally release the last of your waking hours. 
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The next day, the rain still hadn’t let up and you ended up driving your car into the garage so as to not have any damage done to it. Elise was bummed out as she was supposed to go to the local park with her friends from school, but for obvious reasons, it was canceled. The two of you ended up making a pillow fort in the living room and watching Barbie movies for the rest of the day. It was low maintenance and cozy and everything you’ve ever wanted, not that it would have been much different if you were home by yourself instead. 
Elise hadn’t brought up the conversation you two had last night and you were grateful for it. The insights that the kid’s little brain could understand were astounding to you. She spends the day glued to your side while singing along to the movie’s songs and eventually falls asleep mid-movie with a cold popcorn bowl in her lap. 
You carry her back into her bed just like the night before. This time watching her sleeping form for a little while longer. After which you went back to the living room to clean up. There was a tough teriyaki sauce stain that was stained onto one of the blankets in the pillow fort that you ended up just throwing into the laundry instead of trying to spot clean. While the laundry runs, you put away leftovers and cleaned up the dishes. 
After the chores are done, you find yourself in the sunroom again, finding it ironic that the two times you have used it were when the sun was away. You run your hands across the spines of the many books that Morpheus kept. Many of them were scientific journals on the mind as you would expect regarding his job. A few were fairytales for Elise and a few seemed to be picked up from local libraries or garage sales. 
You select one from random, a short novel about a princess who sets out on a quest against the Greek gods to find her missing brother. An easy enough read for tonight, you think to yourself. You find annotations from handwriting that you didn’t recognize as Elise’s or Morpheus’ and come to the conclusion that it must’ve been his ex-wife’s. A bittersweet conclusion that he kept her books all this time.
Her handwriting was beautiful and so were her thoughts. They were eye-opening, sweet, and romantic, and through her annotations, you come to love her as well. If it were a different world, you would’ve loved being her friend. 
You are on the last few chapters of the book when your eyes became droopy. You set down the book, hoping to pick it up again tomorrow morning, and head to take your shower. The warmth of the shower only solidifies your tiredness and was a great way to relax your muscles before you grudgingly climb into bed, hair still damp as it hit the pillow. 
Everything about you was tired, but that damn rainstorm just had to test its luck and turn into a thunderstorm. You lay on your side, paralyzed, pulling the blanket as high as it can over your chin without suffocating you and squeeze your eyes tight. You imagine the blanket was the arms of your deceased mother hugging you again. You think of summertime by the lakeside, flowers blooming and butterflies flying. Your father is fishing on his small boat and is trying to catch something fresh for dinner. You think of your mother in the lakeside cabin making freshly baked bread and your breathing slows. You could relive this moment every day if it only allowed you. 
You’re playing with the weeds that grow by the stairs of the cabin porch, ripping at them and releasing the earthy scent, throwing them off into the lawn when you were successful. Your palms had several thin cuts from stubborn weeds that didn’t want to be uprooted. 
The smell of rain is heavy in the air as the temperature cools drastically and storm clouds roll in. Your father tries one more time to catch something and lightning cracks amongst the horizon. The wind picks up and creates aggressive currents along the lake, rocking his boat back and forth. You hear your mother shouting at you to get inside the house as cold, fat drops of rain pierce your skin. But your eyes don’t leave your father’s boat and soon your mother joins you on the porch, hand shielding her eyes to look out. 
Lightning strikes the lake, blinding you, your mother screams and thunder booms and hearing is lost. One moment your father is on the lake and the next he isn’t. The boat is on its side before the water fills it and drowns it, too. 
Your mother moves past you in a blur and you follow quickly. The rainwater mixes with your tears, hot and cold, running down your cheeks. You scream for your father, choking as the water comes into your airway instead. Is this what your father felt as he drowned? All you saw was your mother, in her perfect summer dress that stuck to her figure double over on the dock as she screamed, the rain drowning away all of her grief. 
A terrifying boom jolts you awake into a sitting position, your heart pumping at a mile a minute. You feel sweat coat along your browline as you lay back down, the back of your hand over your forehead. You hadn’t had that dream, or more accurately, that memory in a long time. You find the courage to get up and head to the connected bathroom to splash your face with some cold water in hopes of calming yourself down. 
You are so consumed by your own thoughts, that you don’t see the tall figure standing in the middle of the bedroom. A scream crawls up your throat before another lightning bolt lights up the room, making you jump as the thunder follows. You could recognize the disheveled hair anywhere. His confused face relaxes as he realizes that you are still here. 
You swallow some air, pushing your own feelings aside for a moment. “What are you doing back so early?”
“We were sent home early in regards to the storm. It would have been too dangerous to travel the next day,” Morpheus explains. On cue, another crack of lightning follows his words. 
“Well, welcome home,” You say, hospitality gone from your system at the late hour. You grab a pillow from the bed and head out the door. 
“Where are you escaping to?” He asks.
You quirk an eyebrow, not entirely understanding the question. “The couch?” You answer with a question as if it should be obvious. He’s home so he should be using his bed. 
You think you see his jaw tick at your answer but you’re not sure due to the dark. Another strike of lightning had you stiffen and you walk out of the room without another word. You managed to lay back down with a throw blanket that was in a basket near the couch and cuddle with yourself as much as you could. The blanket didn’t provide as much warmth or heaviness as the comforter did. 
You toss and turn back and forth but no matter how you position yourself, tiredness nor comfort found you. The thunderstorm had gotten worse and after much debate with yourself, you give in with a huff. You grab the pillow and hug it to your stomach as you stand and make your way to Morpheus’ room. 
You give a quiet knock and open the door, feeling almost childish at how you are going about this. You should have gotten over your fear a long time ago and yet here you were, standing vulnerable in your pajamas, staring at Morpheus as he sits up in his bed.
Your mouth opens but the words don’t come out. They’re lodged in your throat at what they’re about to say. Before you can find the courage to do so, Morpheus speaks for you.
“Are you afraid of the thunder?” He asks. 
You nod your head yes, and the grip on the pillow increases. 
“Do you want to spend the night with me?”
You nod again. 
He lifts the blanket on his side that you took the pillow from and you slip in. Warmth envelopes you immediately and you let go of a restrained breath. You turn to him and whisper your thanks as you face each other, your body deflating as stress leaves it. Silence fills the air and awkwardness follows after. Sleep is on the back of your mind and it tugs hard for rest. Your fear gets the better of you and you’re left lying awake, looking at Morpheus’ sleeping forming. His breath is rhythmic and his face is peaceful. A deafening boom of thunder jolts you and a small shriek leaves your lips. Unconsciously you snuggle closer to Morpheus and his eyes snap open. 
He feels you shaking and wraps a protective arm around your figure, one hand snaking under your neck to wrap itself around your head. He brings you closer to him as if shielding you from the raging thunderstorm outside. 
“Shhh,” He hushes as the rain pelts against the windows. “I am here.”
Your fingers are clutched to his shirt, knuckles white when he speaks to you. At another crack of lightning, you pull yourself closer to him, bracing yourself for the boom of thunder that follows. His hands cover your ears and you feel the sting of tears threatening to fall. The rain continues and after a few long minutes of only rain, you relax again. You lay in the comforts of his arms as you realize the thunder had stopped. Sleep pulls at your eyelids again and with a hiccuped breath you close your eyes. 
Morpheus’ cheat rises as he inhales before he speaks. 
“I am consumed by thoughts of you,” he confesses in the dark light of the night. Lighting cracks far away and you almost miss the confession. Is he trying to distract you? The thunder that follows isn’t as loud as your beating heart. 
He lays still with you over his chest and you hear the way his heartbeat accelerates. When the words finally, finally, register in your head you perk up and look at him. 
He opens his eyes and tears form along the bottom. “I cannot deny it anymore. Everything of me is filled with you. Your laughter, your scent, your voice. It has filled the crevices of my heart and healed the wounds of the past.”
You whisper his name, nothing else comes to mind for his confession. You sit up now and he follows after with his legs on either side of you. You cannot bear to look him in the eyes, his love for you is too strong to face head-on in the middle of the night. His fingers run across your back and you can’t deny the goosebumps that follow after. 
You feel his lips, just as warm as the first time, on your shoulders and he leans into you. He peppers kisses up your shoulder to your neck and you lean your head away to give him room. His arms snake around your waist again to hold you still, feeling the leftover tremors from the passing storm. 
“Tell me to stop and I will stop,” He promises in a whisper in your ear. 
His voice, oh so heavenly, has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “No, don’t stop,” You assure breathlessly. His hands slip under the thin fabric of your shirt and move upward, fingers featherlight and ticklish. Heat shoot straight to your cunt at his administration and your nipples perk as he runs a cold finger over them. His other hand travels lower and brushes against the rim of your shorts. 
He stops, only to continue when you whine in rebuttal and grind your ass into his front, feeling the heat and hardness of his arousal. Your heat clashes with his cold fingers as he runs them along the length of your slit. A moan escapes you at the feeling, it’s been too long since you last had a good sexual experience and your fingers are just not the same. 
His fingers part your lower lips and another runs circles around your clit. You clench around nothing, head thrown back and leaning against his shoulder as he continues. He’s stopped kissing you now, just watching your expressions trying to figure out what you enjoyed most. 
You needed more, something, anything. Before you could ask for it, he sinks a long finger in and your mouth falls lack. His hand comes to cover your mouth, muffling the wanton moans that fall out shamelessly.
“Shhh,” He hushes against your ear, sending shivers through your body again. You feel his teeth nibble at the shell of your ear, something so simple, and yet it felt so perfect. 
You feel his lips tug into a smile as your cunt clenches around his finger, to which he adds another, moving them in and out, in and out. His pace was calm, and collected, but you’re greedy. You want to bargain with him, another finger? His mouth on your cunt? How about a little bit of everything?
“Do you want more?” He asks, his voice low in timbre like the faraway thunder that rumbles. 
You nod, a small squeal leaving your lips as his fingers push up into your G-spot. You hear him groan behind you when your tongue darts out to lick his fingers that cover your mouth. He nips at the junction of your neck before he backs away. 
“Turn around for me, dove,” He directs you with a hand. 
You find yourself on your knees and you want to place your head back down on the pillows but Morpheus stops you.
“No.” He holds you up, his body flushed against your back. “Like this,” He pulls you up and holds your hand on the headboard, his fingers intertwining with yours as he keeps you there. 
His lips follow your spine, kissing down, inch by inch. His hands leave you and go to pull down your pajama pants, leaving the heat of your core bare to the cold late-night air. Your back arches as his fingers find themselves into your cunt again and you feel the wetness of your pleasure dripping down the back of your thighs. The rapture feeling makes your head dip down, but you don’t dare to let go of the headboard as Morpheus had instructed. 
Morpheus’ hand comes around your mouth again when your moans grow louder, your eyes roll to the back of your head as his fingers grow slicker and faster. You find yourself at the brink of your orgasm, cunt spasming as you clench on his fingers and your fingers gripping hard on the headboard, knuckles white, and head thrown back. Morpheus’ hand leaves your lips and gently wraps themselves across your throat, gently restricting the air that you want to breathe. White and blinding lights flash across the back of your eyelids as the searing pleasure of your orgasm shakes through your core. His fingers slow down as he helps you ride through your orgasm, leaving you panting and spent. 
You feel his lips against your ears again, whispering sweet nothings to bring you back down to earth. Your teeth are still buzzing from the orgasm when you feel something hot and hard press against your entrance. He presses forward and you feel the pressure of it, but he doesn’t enter, not yet. You’re shaking your head no, mumbling for recovery from your previous orgasm. 
“I can’t, not yet. I can’t,” You plea between pants. 
“Yes, you can, darling. I know you can,” Morpheus says. He runs the pad of his finger down your spine, making your ass perk up higher into the air from the sensation of it. “Yes. Just like that,” His praise continues. 
He sinks into you and the stretch is foreign. He’s girthy, bigger than you have taken before, but it’s not too uncomfortable. He has you panting without him even starting to move. He stays still as you squeeze your cunt around him and you’re further spurred on by his groans. Morpheus silences himself by pressing his lips to the nape of your neck, fingers intertwining with yours again on the headboard. His brows furrowed in concentration to give you time to adjust to him, but it’s hard, especially when you keep sucking him in like that. 
Morpheus only starts to move when you push back against him, taking him in another inch. 
“Fuck,” You hear him murmur in between your shoulder blades. One simple word and he has you palpable and jelly-like in his hands. 
Morpheus starts his thrusts slow, but much like how he loves, they soon become more - harder, better. Your moans go from soft to loud to muffled until he’s inserting himself over and over with such force that you’re left soundless. His power of his thrusts makes your shirt rise up until it just barely covers your breasts and the spaghetti straps fall from your shoulders. He snakes one of his hands down the sweat-dewed skin of your stomach and makes contact with your enlarged clit. 
He moans into your ear, unembarrassed when your cunt clenches harder around him when the finger pushes onto your clit. He starts to move the finger in slow circles around the nerves and your thighs start to shake. The rest of your body grows taught as his finger and cock slowly brings you to your second orgasm. 
Your mouth remains open, whines and whimpers falling out, Morpheus had long given up on keeping you quiet and only the brief remembrance that Elise was just down the hall make you bite your lips to silence yourself. Your orgasm was there again, just a little bit more and you’ll feel euphoria again. But no matter how much Morpheus keeps thrusting into you, you don’t get any closer. 
“Come for me,” He growls into your ear. 
“I can’t!” You whine out. You’re trying! Can’t he see that? You want it just as bad. 
“Yes, you can,” He huffs. His sucks a hickie on the peak of your shoulder blade and presses harder onto your clit. 
“Now,” He commands and you do. 
The snap was instantaneous and you taste blood on your tongue as your lip breaks open from the force of your bite. You feel each pulse of your orgasm rippling through you and then the sudden loss of Morpheus within you. You push your ass back into him, hoping to take him back into you. His cock instead rests between your ass checks when you feel the hot splurge of his cum splatter onto your back and the sound of your shared pants. 
You’re not entirely sure how long the high of your orgasm lasts but you come back to you laying on Morpheus’ chest except this time completely naked. 
“Did that really just happen?” You ask as sleep tugs on your eyes for the third time that night. The thunderstorm was long gone, and soft rain concludes the weekend long storm. 
A soft chuckle leaves Morpheus’ lips and it shakes your head. “Yes.” 
“What does this mean for us? For Elise?”
It takes a moment for Morpheus to answer and you think you fell back asleep. 
“It means that we can be a family, shall you want it,” Morpheus says. 
“That sounds perfect,” You smile and you know Morpheus could feel it on his chest when you do because when he speaks next, the happiness in his voice is genuine. 
“Then how about a date tomorrow, my love?”
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Ngl, this was so fun to write you guys. Thank you to [redacted] on hmmm, "helping" me with the smut inspiration. If only you knew this blog existed.
Working on a couple more fics! 26 Ways of Taking You is basically going to be my own version of the NSFW Alphabet so they'll be short, porn no plot fics with our lovely Endless.
Don't be shy! Request a prompt or ask a question :D
Have a lovely day
♡ Yours, Layla
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sebscore · 1 year
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Can I request a Gen-Z driver fic where she straight-up DROPKICKS Christian Horner in public after he makes some really sexist comments abt her?
Cuz if this man isn’t gonna get humbled IRL, might as well do it in a fic😂
A MAN’S WORLD
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pairings: (indirect) christian horner x driver!reader / lewis hamilton x driver!reader
warnings: sexist comments. mentions of christian horner. mention of an orgasm.
author's note: this one's not really a funny one, cause I went the more realistic route with it, i fear. I still hope you like it, though. I might do a 'comedic' version in the future, because i agree as well that horner should get humbled by someone (although toto is doing quite a good job)
masterlist
• • • • • • •
''What's your opinion on Christian Horner stating that more girls are getting into F1, because of the good looking drivers?'' The reporter's question echoed through the room, cameras ready to capture her reaction as the words left his mouth.
Being asked about misogynistic comments that people in the sport made had become a regular thing in the press conferences ever since the young woman entered the Formula 1 world.
On one hand, it had become tiresome. Some men just wouldn't stray away from their sexist thoughts, no matter how many successful women would climb their way through the ranks. On the other hand, Y/N felt like she owed it to every single woman and young girl out there to defend them against these conservative men. Many women before her had proven that this wasn't a men's world and for as long as she'll live she will repeat that message.
''Young girls and women have always struggled to be taken seriously in the motorsport world, and for a team principal of a highly-regarded racing team to say that the only reason they watch this sport is for the handsome drivers? I find that quite insulting. There are many reasons why women are interested in the sport. Sure, there are people who got pulled into this world, because they found some of the drivers good looking, but why should they be shamed for that? They're the ones showing up to races and the ones who buy the merch. I know he has apologized for his comments, but I think we all know how much of that he meant.''
The lack of emotion on the woman's face and in her voice was a rare sight for the drivers and reporters. Perhaps it showed how fed up she was and how tired she had become of having to answer these questions. It hadn't been the first time the Red Bull Racing team principal had expressed some serious sexist comments.
Her welcome into Formula 1 had been a polarized one. The drivers had been supportive and many people were delighted that after such a long time there was finally a woman in the beloved sport, one that had talent that matched the ones of her competitors.
But where there is support, there is hatred. In her first ever press conference, Y/N was asked to comment on an interview that Christian Horner had done where he was asked about the woman and her arrival to Formula 1. ''The first time I saw the girl I thought that she was one of grid girls,'' he laughed, ''it's definitely going to be tough for her, entering a man's sport.''
The rookie knew the question was going to be brought up and she answered with the response her team had drilled into her. ''No comment.''
It was sad how after several years things hadn't changed, the comments were still the same and the people who made them still hadn't learned their lesson, simply being patted on the back for their mistakes.
''Do you find the handsome drivers distracting during your race week?'' Another journalist asked her, his pen ready in his hand to note her response.
Y/N looked to her side, finding Mick and Lewis already frowning at the man. ''Oh, yeah! It's super distracting when I look to my side and find a helmet there. It just riles me up, you know?'' The sarcastic comment earned her laughs and chuckles from several people in the room, happy she could show everyone how ridiculous the question actually was.
Not too long after the press conference was over, to all the drivers' amusement. Lewis caught up with the young woman as they walked out of the room. ''You handled that well, I really loved what you said.'' He squeezed her shoulder, a soft smile on his face.
''Thanks, it's just so- ugh, tiring.'' Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes.
''I know, darling. I was there was something I could do, but I'm afraid that the two of us are in the same boat.'' Lewis could relate to the discrimination she experienced because of who she is.
''Like, yeah, you all are handsome individuals, but it's not that I get an orgasm every time I see any of you.'' Her comment made Lewis giggle, her bluntness never failed to make him laugh.
''And out of all people, Horner should be the last one worried about his good looks bringing interest in the sport.''
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