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#but gods I can’t even remember all of them at the moment
enjoythesilentworld · 20 hours
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Wille's Month - Freedom
day 23!! @youngroyals-events <3
Wille and Simon go out to enjoy a nice, summer day in town. Something is weird, though, and they can’t quite place what it is.
read below or on ao3 (G, 800)
Wilhelm was used to people staring at him. He’d gone his whole life that way; still remembers the first time he realized that his life was very different from his friends’ lives, and that not everyone had to walk out on fancy balconies in a suit at 6 years old and wave at crowds of cheering people. While he wasn’t necessarily okay with it – in fact, he rather hated it – he knew how to handle it. 
Simon, on the other hand, was not used to it. He’d been unwillingly thrown into the spotlight first by August, and then for a second and third time by Wilhelm. What made it even worse was that the stares Simon got were unkind stares. They were judging and sneering, whispered gossip and smothered giggles. 
So, now, despite the fact that Wille’s stepped down and it’s been years since the video and the speech, whenever they go out in public, Wille no longer knows how to handle it. He doesn’t mind the stares on him, but knowing it makes Simon uncomfortable, knowing his beautiful boyfriend pretends it doesn’t, makes Wille all the more nervous and angry. How dare they continue to gossip when they don’t even know Simon at all? How dare they make him hesitant to be in big crowds or, God forbid, anywhere near a royal monument? 
He is never thinking about it directly, but the anxiety is always there bubbling in the back of Wille’s mind. So aware of Simon, always aware, and never wanting to cause him any more undue harm; which, that’s the problem, isn’t it? Even after all this time, it’s still Wille and his (former) royalty status that brought all this shit down on them. 
It’s a gorgeous summer day, the sun finally out in full force after a rainy spring, and they’ve decided to go out to run a few errands and maybe have lunch at a park. At this point, it’s second nature for him to keep tabs on their surroundings, prepared to throw glares at anyone who dares look at Simon wrong for even a second. They make it to the main thoroughfare of shops without incident, though, and the worry fades to the background. 
Simon looks absolutely radiant in the warm sunlight, blissful and smiling. They swing their hands between them as they walk, admiring the pretty window displays and commenting on the delicious smells coming from a bakery nearby. A street performer is playing the violin, and they drift over. Wille wraps his arms around Simon, and they sway there for a moment, enjoying the music and the gentle breeze. As they continue down the path, they pass a jewelry store and Simon eyes the rings in the window. When he turns and sees Wille’s giddy expression, he giggles and shakes his head. They already know; the promise is there. But, they have time. Not yet, but soon. 
By the time they grab a few sandwiches and settle down on a park bench, Wille can still feel something weird wiggling under his skin. Glancing around, he doesn’t see anyone staring at them or any ill-disguised camera phones. 
“Does today feel kind of weird to you?” Simon asks, looking over at him with a smear of mustard on his cheek. Wille reaches out to wipe it away, then sucks his finger into his own mouth to clean up. Simon smiles in thanks, then continues, “Not a bad weird. Like, today is lovely, but just kind of weird?”
Wille hums when Simon brings a clean hand up to rest against the back of his neck, fingers gently brushing the short hair there. “Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing. I don’t know what it is.” 
They both look around for a moment, admiring the ducks circling in the pond before them. Somewhere across the way, a group of children laugh and chase each other through the grass.
“Oh my God,” Simon gasps out, grip tightening on Wille’s neck. He drops his sandwich onto the paper wrapping in his lap, and turns back to Wille, mouth open in shock.
“What?” Wille sits up straighter, scanning around them in fear. 
“No one’s looking at us! No one’s been looking at us all day!” Simon exclaims, wide eyes still trained on Wille. 
It can’t be. Wille looks at the groups of people around them, then thinks back to their walk through the shops. That feeling he’d had wasn’t anxiety, it was confusion.
“Oh my God,” Wille repeats. 
Simon laughs joyously. “Are we finally irrelevant?” 
Still not fully believing it, Wille continues to think. Not even the cafe attendant spared them a second glance when they’d ordered their sandwiches. They’d even asked Wille for his name for their order – Wille had never given his name for anything like that in his life. 
A smile grows on his face, large enough to rival Simon’s. Finally, he looks back over at his beautiful, beautiful Simon, chest bursting with love and glee.
“No,” Wille says, shaking his head. “We’re free.” 
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Indisposed (Noah Sebastian fanfic) chapter 2
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Autor's note: gfhjkfjhfnfm tysm for all the love i got so fast for the prologue and chapter one, means sm to me <3
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chapter two
Noah smirks as he sees me trying my best to look annoyed at him, before starting to follow me towards the exit. 
`Well, I’ll probably be knocked out as soon as I hit my bed. Thank you for his fun night, Noah,´ I say to him when we walk towards our hotel through the chilly night, and mean it. I haven’t felt this loose and myself since a while, even though drinks got involved. I don’t drink or act really crazy, or spontaneous around everyone, but with Noah, that trust has grown enough to show it throughout the half a year of working for him and the band.
He smiles at me while he walks next to me, nodding. `No need to thank me,  I almost feel like I should be the one to thank you, because I can’t remember the last time a girl has been this flirtatious to me while being drunk…´
`Oh please. It’s not my fault that I am a lightweight,´ I say while rolling my eyes, also kinda embarrassed by that fact. While we talk our bodies begin to walk closer towards each other, and I enjoy the heath of his body because of the cold air against the exposed bits of my body because of my not that long, black dress.
Noah lets out a soft chuckle. `Well, it’s also not my fault that you’re so lightweight and fun to flirt with while being tipsy and getting drunk,´ he says, a sassy and flirty grin on his face.
`No, it’s not. I can’t blame you,´ I shrug with a sly smile on my face.
`Maybe I should give it a shot and drink as much as you did tonight and see how you cope with how flirtatious I can get then,´ he also shrugs.
`Even more than you already are? Is that even possible?´ I ask whilst pretending to sound shocked.
`Well, I think we should really find out, shouldn’t we?´ he teasingly asks back, bumping his hips slightly against mine.
I shake my head with a giggle. `Fine. As long as you pay for the drinks coming out of the fridge from my hotel room.´
`Okay, cool, I’ll pay for them,´ he says with a sly smile, moving a bit closer so our limbs are slightly touching. 
When we approach the hotel, I stumble a little before the entrance, giggling when Noah needs to catch me. `Oopsie.´
While getting me to stand up straight again, Noah still has his arms around me, holding me as he speaks to me, laughing. `Careful, sweetheart. You’re really not good when you get drunk,´ he says, jokingly.
`Not true, I am good at a lot of things, just wait,´ I slur, not even fully realizing what I’m saying.
When we talk-and I am still almost falling over my own feet every few seconds-Noah even has to check in and identify us both… Which is slightly embarrassing, even while being drunk to be honest. His security is still around and makes sure we get in safe, and I wave a little too enthusiastically at the two tall men who just sheepishly smile back at me with a small nod. God, I’m gonna regret this tomorrow, so, so much. In the corner of my eyes, I see Noah chuckle now and then, shaking his head slightly. At least one of us finds it funny.
`You wanna bet on that, Hailey?´ he continues our conversation while we walk through the hallways from the hotel, leading us to our doors. 
`Sure. I am positive that I can be at my door faster than you are,´ I say, and I laugh out loud when I kick my heels off, grabbing them afterwards and start running away through the hallway.
`That’s quite a confident statement from a tipsy girl like you,´ I hear Noah say with a little laugh through his voice, hearing that he starts running after me.
I begin to laugh even harder, knowing that I probably wake up a lot of people because of what we’re doing and the giggles escaping from my mouth, but at this moment I honestly don’t really care. I really enjoy having this fun with Noah-I haven’t had this fun with someone for quite some time, being quite busy with my job the last few months.
Sometimes I do miss my friends back home, but whenever I can, I make sure to text and call them, telling them all about the crazy things I go through since I have this job and smiling and laughing along when they tell me about their stories, especially when mentioning people I also know. I really have to go visit them some time soon when the band has a little break in between the tour. 
`You think that you’re gonna be able to outspeed a guy who’s constantly running on tour though?´ he flirtatiously says as he continues trying to catch up with me, his hands now in the pockets of his jeans when I look over my shoulder, him continuing following behind me.
`Oh no, sorry mister speed of light,´ I chuckle jokingly and almost slam my body against my hotel door once we reach it, realizing a little too late that I’m already standing in front of it. I giggle and try to get in by unlocking the door with my keycard, but my mind is starting to kinda spin so it doesn’t really work. 
  `Oh my god,´ I hear Noah say behind me with a giggle. I feel my cheeks turn red.
`Goddamnit,´ I mutter underneath my breath, and when I hear the door finally click to unlock the door after what seems the fifth time trying, I can get inside. 
`Bed!´ is the first thing I yell when I immediately jump on my king sized hotel bed and deeply sigh after. `Bed is so soft.´
I hear Noah laugh out loud. `You seem a little too excited to get on this bed, huh? Is it that comfy? Or are you just too drunk?´
`It’s probably both,´ I shrug, and sit up straight again, looking at him standing at the door opening, his hands still in the pockets of his hands and a big grin on his face, the twinkle in his eyes that appeared since the afterparty never leaving his dark eyes so far. `Thank you for bringing me safely back to my room though,´ I kindly and smile thankfully at him.
He nods at me, returning the smile back at me, but it’s still being playful at the same time. `No problem. As much as I enjoyed teasing you a lot on the way here, I’m also glad that I brought you back safely.´
`I currently hate how tight my dress feels,´ I blur out, tugging at the fabric. He raises an eyebrow at the sudden change of conversation, probably noticing how much I’m having trouble keeping a straight track of thought in my mind right now.
`I should probably change into something better,´ I say after that, biting my lip and looking a bit awkwardly around me. It’s not even an excuse to make him leave and leave me alone or something, I truly hate how this dress starts to suffocate my body. `So…´
`Oh? Change into ‘something better’? What might that be, then?´ he asks teasingly, and I roll my eyes.
`Yes, it’s starting to feel a little uncomfortable,´ I say while scratching my neck. `So that something better will most definitely be pajamas.´
He takes a few steps into the hotel room, casually while doing so. `So you’re gonna change into your pajamas right now?´ he asks, letting out a small laugh as he speaks, still in that teasing and slightly flirtatious tone again. I know damn well what he is doing, and God it’s so tempting to give right away.
`Yes,´ I chuckle, also trying to challenge him.
`Ah, so you want to change into your pajamas and then tell me to get out of here so you can sleep?´
`Oh no, I’m not getting changed until after you leave,´ I smirk at him, making him raise his eyebrows again, not saying a thing as he looks into my eyes. ´So, goodnight Noah, and thank you again for everything.´
He takes a step back and looks away, the sudden pout saying that he is slightly annoyed at my request. Ha, it’s working. `Hm. Okay, fine, I’ll leave.´
´Sleep well Noah. And don’t be late for your make up and dressing tomorrow,´ I wink at him, making him shoot me a teasing glance. 
He raises his eyebrows while he is still moving towards the door, saying: `Okay, fine… I’ll try to. But I'll definitely be thinking about you tonight, y´know.´
My cheeks of course get goddamn colored once again when he says that, and I try to shrug it off. `Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.´ After saying that I suddenly look at my phone that lays next to me on my bed, with a worried frown. `I just hope I won’t do too much dumb stuff with my phone.´
`So, what's with that big worry? Are you worried that you might send dumb text messages to people while you’re still pretty drunk?´ Noah wants to know, stopping with moving away through the still open door when he is already standing in the hallway, so he leans against the doorpost while crossing his arms in sudden curiosity. 
`It happened before,´ I giggled. `I once texted my dad at 3 am that I was still waiting for chocolate ice cream from him. No idea why. Or, I just send my friends the dumbest selfies. And of course, classically sending it to the wrong person sometimes.´
`Oh my god,´ he chuckles while shaking his head, running a hand through his hair before he stands in the same pose as before again. `So, how drunk were you to be sending your dad a text of you expecting chocolate ice cream?´ He slowly starts walking back towards me and the bed, instead of leaving like he was planning to do.
`I was pretty far from this world,´ I responded to his question with a small giggle. It makes him grin again, and he continues to move back close to me. It makes me forget the uncomfortableness of my dress pretty quickly, so I don’t mind him staying for a little longer. 
`So, with you being pretty far from this world at that moment, did you get so drunk that you couldn’t talk properly anymore at some point too?´
`I think so, yeah. I mean, I could still talk, but it all sounded kinda gibberish probably.´
`Damn, so it wasn’t just your little text that all seemed confusing to people, but when you tried to speak too,´ he laughs while shaking his head, now sitting next to me on the bed. 
`Yeah, I also once years ago called my best friend a few times, and when she picked up she asked me why the hell I was calling her in the middle of the night, and if something was wrong. I basically told her to come over to my place because everything indeed was wrong: I got through my last bag of cookies,´ I told him, laughing while telling the story.
`Everything was wrong because you got through your last bag of cookies? That’s hilarious,´ Noah laughed along with me. `I can imagine how confused and annoyed your friend was when she heard that from you from those hours… Or maybe she just laughed it off?´
`She was a little pissed at first, but when I started crying because of my bag being empty, she was the one laughing actually,´ I chuckle.
`You were actually crying over your last bag of cookies? So… So you sat there in tears after you found out? Did you seriously get all upset about that?´ Noah continued laughing, and the story became ten times funnier to us, I guess through the alcohol. 
`Hey, they are the best white chocolate-chip cookies ever made!´ I defend myself. `You would cry as well.´
`Oh my god… Well, now you’re making me curious to try them,´ he says with a giggle. `Are they really that good? So good that you can’t get enough of them?´
`Absolutely,´ I exclaim, nodding while thinking about them. Damn, in combination with me being drunk, it makes me quite hungry actually.
Noah grins again. `So, you are telling me that you’re already hungry just from thinking about them?´ he adds with a teasing tone.
I again nod. `Fuck yeah I am.´ But after saying that, I slap my hand on my mouth, looking at him with big eyes because I just cured… just to burst out laughing after. Truly, I can be so insanely dumb when I’m drunk-I have cursed in front of him and the band before, just not that often though.
He busts out laughing as well, so we just laugh together like two idiots because I just cursed and how embarrassed I looked after. After our laughter finally quiets down, he still looks into my eyes with his flirty energy.
`So, you’re basically telling me that you want something to eat right now?´
`I would almost kill for those cookies right now, it’s insane,´ I groan, letting myself fall on my back on the hotel bed again.
`You would really kill for them?´ Noah says in a teasing tone, now looking me directly in the eye.
`No of course not, it's a figure of speech,´ I mumble, rubbing in my tired eyes. `But man, I would do almost anything for them right now. I also haven’t had them for years, which is insane to begin with. Like, how did I survive so long without them? Am I insane?´ I drunkenly ramble on. God, I can’t stop talking about those damn cookies for some reason. But just thinking about their taste, their crumb… it is very much driving me insane right now.
`Are you now questioning your entire existence just because you haven’t had these cookies for years?´ Noah chuckles. Yeah, I most definitely must sound like some insane person to him now-great.
`Well… Maybe. Noah, you don’t understand-the chocolate inside of the cookies melt on your tongue when you eat them. On your goddamn tongue! Chocolate!  I would drink a whole ass fountain of that particular chocolate.´
`Oh my god, you’re really describing these delicious white chocolate chip cookies so vividly right now… Can you like, also tell me what the smell is like?... Is it an intoxicating aroma like that of the greatest things you have ever smelled? That when you take them out of the oven for example, the whole entire house would smell like vanilla, white chocolate, and the most delicious aromas ever?´
I almost moan when Noah says that, kicking with my feet in frustration. `Stop it, Noah.´
`What, you don’t like it when I also bring up the delicious scent while describing how these amazing cookies of yours taste?  Is it making you go insane now, wanting them even more?´ he says with a grin, obviously teasing me like hell, moving to lay next to me on the bed while still looking at me with that ridiculously attractive flirty smile of his.
`Oh shut up, you’re doing this on purpose,´ I mutter while slightly hitting his arm with my fist.
`Well obviously… why wouldn’t I?´ he asks with a playful grin.
`Also…´ I roll over to Noah, so I can face him. `Why are you still here? Like, you brought me here safely to my room and now that I told you about my secret amazing cookies that I love so much, you could literally buy them yourself and eat them. Do something I can’t.´ I almost pout when I finish my sentence.
`Oh, is this my cue to leave? Is this the hint that you’re giving me?´ Noah asks with a chuckle, looking right back at me with his head turned to mine. `Well, unfortunately for you I don’t listen very well to those hints when someones as drunk as you are right now. So, I’m gonna stay here with you for a little bit more.´
I groan, rolling on my back again. `I am a grown, independent woman, I can take care of myself. This isn’t the first time I’ve been drunk, you know that now.´ I close my eyes. `I think I’m gonna shower anyway. I probably stink and I feel… I don’t know. I just want to feel warm water on my body I guess.´
`Hm… is that you saying that you want me to come with you in the shower?´ Noah says teasingly, in an extra questioning tone added to it.  
I roll my eyes, standing up, making me stumble a little. `Nice try, Sebastian.´
I grab a white hotel towel and walk towards the shower, and say over my shoulder: `Well, thank you for getting me to my room safely, Noah. I  am really going to shower now, so… I don’t know, do whatever you want here in the meantime since I know you’re not gonna leave.´
I shut the bathroom door behind me after saying that, sighing through my nose for a second, really aching for the warm water and feeling a bit nauseous. I turn on the shower and let the water turn warm while getting out of my dress and underwear, before getting under it. I close my eyes in relief for a second when I feel the warm water streaming down my hair and body; I really needed this. I begin washing my hair, splashing my face with water to stay at least a little awake for a bit more, and soap my body after. 
`Jesus Christ, dance a little less intense the next time Hailey, you stink,´ I mutter to myself when I let the water hit my body again when the soap washes off my body. Me and Noah dancing starts playing in my head again, making me feel hot not just because of the water of the shower. His gaze, his lips on my neck, it’s still clear on my mind, almost as if they linger on my sensitive skin again, creating a pang in my stomach full of desire and nerves all at once. It was intense, and such a holy feeling already-it got me wondering what else he could make me feel like.
No. I shouldn’t. At least not right now, alone in the shower, and him in the room next to me. 
I sigh, actually not wanting to get out of the shower just yet. But since I don’t want the hotel to charge me extra money, I decide to get out anyway. I quickly wrap the towel that I grabbed earlier around my body and look at myself in the mirror after. My dark chocolate wavy hair is dripping on the floor, and my green eyes… they look wild because of the alcohol, my cheeks slightly red on my tanned skin from it as well. I shrug for a moment, remembering I usually look like this when I’m drunk, and start putting in some hair products to make my hair look a bit prettier before drying it more off.
I grab my toiletbag after, searching for my toothbrush and toothpaste. When I find it, my eyebrows rise and I turn red when I find my… eh, well, my own personal toy in the bag too-I completely forgot that I bought that with me on tour here. I then giggle for a moment, that’s actually pretty fucking funny that I forgot that. I quickly shake my head and start brushing my teeth, but keep staring at the toy while doing so. What I can also forget sometimes, is when I’m drunk… my body is a little bit more hormonal, let’s say it like that. And when I’m done brushing my teeth, I keep looking at the toy. I shake my head once again-no, I truly cannot do this right now.
I mean… I especially also bought it because it’s a very quiet toy. I bite my lip in thought.
Would Noah notice something?
But I almost jump a few feet in the air when I see Noah himself standing at the door opening, leaning against it with his arms crossed and the biggest fucking grin on his face. My hand is on my chest, letting out a big breath. `Jesus fucking Christ, Noah-please knock the next time!´
He of course grins even more. `Don’t tell that you’re already starting to miss me when we were just in the same room minutes ago…´
`What are you talking ab…´ I abruptly stop talking when my eyes follow his, they are on my exposed toy. 
With a quick and clumsy movement, I shove it back into my toiletbag, my cheeks turning red for what seems the hundredth time this night. `You saw absolutely nothing. Okay?´
He laughs when he sees the embarrassment clear on my face, his hands going through his hair. Of course he decides to tease me a little more after. `Oh yeah? What am I supposed to see exactly?´ he asks me, now looking at me with a teasing sparkle in his eyes. Oh God. We have been going back and forth with teasing and making remarks to each other the past half year, but the way he is acting right now, he is definitely making the next move… something I am curious about why now, but also something I have been longing for for quite some time. 
`Nothing, forget about it,´ I quickly mumble, starting to brush my damp hair kinda nervously. Then I realize I’m still just in my towel wrapped around my body, and I look at Noah through the reflection of the bathroom mirror with a raised brow. `I still need to get dressed, y’know.´
Noah looks at me with a smirk through the damp reflection of the mirror as well, seeing my eyes on him as he remains close to the door. `Do you want me to leave the room again?´
`Obviously,´ I say while rolling my eyes, turning around to face him and leaning against the sink with my arms crossed, trying to act cool about all of this. `Sorry, show is over.´
`Ah, really?´ Noah teasingly pouts. `So soon though?´ He moves so he can stand a little closer behind me, his eyes daring and intense. He is playing a game with me, he wants to see how far I’ll go, isn’t he?
I slightly smirk. Okay, if that’s how it’s gonna go, I better play along with it. I stare at him, again through the reflection of the mirror, with the most casual expression on my face as I can manage as I speak. 
`Noah, look. I think it’s better if we keep our relationship professional. Yes, I am indeed sexually frustrated as hell right now, and you could bend me over this sink and take me right there, right now-´ I turn around to face him, shrugging innocently. `But we can’t, I fear. Gotta keep the money rolling for myself, y’know.´
His brows rise with every word I speak, him looking utterly flabbergasted. Ha, checkmate. It looks like his brain stops even more when I smile at him, not knowing what to think or say. His mouth is slightly parted to say something, and my smile turns even bigger. Somehow, it even looks like he is slightly blushing.
`Sooo… I’m just gonna get dressed, I guess. You do you,´ I casually say… and then let my towel drop to my feet.
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i think u have a thing for white haired strong guys😔
Well, I have a soft spot for those silver men!
(tmi: but my irl situationship has white hair)
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But let’s not forget about my black haired beauties!
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rist-ix · 9 days
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https://www.tumblr.com/rist-ix/749015401700229120 not you reblogging this when you ship bloom with the man who murdered her family 😭
Bloom's into ppl who slay! Hope this helps :3
#alright snark and ship wars aside i get where you’re coming from tho#if you're genuinely interested in my thought process here i would love to elaborate#which is exactly what I’ll do!#first of all! the post you linked is about headcanons#which my brain kinda wants to put into a whole different category than ships — fandom ships in particular! — but i can leave that aside#because there IS an argument to be made that relationships are an extension of characterization and personality traits#if you wanna go that route i would wanna explain that Bloom's and/or Valtor's interest in the other is in fact based on canon#(even though I don’t really think ships need to be established in the source material. make shit up that’s what fandom is for#1) the Andros episode speaks for itself. Valtor specifically tells the Trix to back off because HE wants to be the one to fight bloom#2) the episode before that he asks questions about her (and only her; even though he has more powerful enemies to worry about)#demonstrating curiosity about and interest in her#3) that same episode (or the one before; can’t remember) is their infamous first meeting#where time LITERALLY slows down as the pass each other on the stairs#they get IMPACT FRAMES#the whole color palette changes!!!#idk about u but I eat that shit up. love the drama of it all no one does it like them#I’m gonna skip all the instances where Valtor is spying on Bloom through his little scrying spell because oh god who has the time#let’s go straight to Bloom#if I had a week I would not be able to collect all the moments where she growls his name in pure fury and single-minded determination#she gets a little bit obsessed with him over the course of the season and I personally think that’s very sexy of her#Bloom is known for her tunnel vision when it comes to her past and origins and Valtor's existence fits PERFECTLY into that#it ties in neatly with her overarching story of the past 2 seasons#literally PERFECT foils#which always makes for the juiciest stories#4) she singles him out for a duel in the museum episode#5) she can literally feel his presence#6) the mere mention of his name sends her into her weird faux enchantix#of course there’s no romance in canon but there’s TENSION AND CHEMISTRY which is all u really need for a ship#all their animosity and bad blood is what makes it so INTERESTING to wonder how they COULD work. it’s the spice that makes for good fanfic!
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#sry I need to vent more abt my tattoo pain bc I physically cannot do anything productive rn im completely and totally incapacitated#can’t read anything beyond short posts or texts. can’t eat or move at all#tried to sleep through it so it would at least Be Tomorrow so I can get medical help. but the jolts of pain make me like Jump#hence me being sent home from work early today like it’s not even that I was complaining I was just flinching involuntarily so much#and was unable to work or function at all. thank god I don’t work retail rn I remember the pain of tattoo infections in that context#it’s so Abrupt it feels like I’m being stabbed or repeatedly bitten#literally trying not to scream bc I have a roommate. but he almost certainly hears me crying and saying ouch#which sucks bc I barely know the guy lol he has no context. At least on my drive home I could scream as much as I needed#literally would go to the ER if I could afford it and that sounds so dramatic bc it is#it doesn’t feel like it can wait. genuinely don’t know how I’m gonna get through the night#I haven’t slept in like 60 hours and I doubt I will tonight. but it hurts too much to even tell if I’m tired#and I don’t have time for this!! I have so much I need to be doing. I hate that the only way I can have Time is to be Extra Disabled#in a way that leaves me completely unable to do the things I normally can fight through despite burnout#and I was just at health services yesterday asking them to do insurance paperwork that they couldn’t do#it’s embarrassing having to be like hey I was just there but can I come back#I have Another tattoo infection but I pinky promise I take such good care of them#and my artist is like the best of the best too. it’s like it doesn’t matter what either of us does to keep me safe#and I know if anyone responds to this it will be to tell me to stop getting tattoos#but that’s literally like telling me not to get top surgery if I’m immunocompromised n might have recovery complications#both are equally important gender affirming medical procedures to me I’m not joking#and I hate always having to justify this whilst in agonizing pain. I hate answering the same things every time bc still no one believes me#I say this as someone who lives every moment in baseline pain that would have your average person writhing on the floor and I ignore it#this is truly unbearable if I hadn’t been through it a million times I would think it was life threatening#just needed to get it out ig. bc it’s all I can physically do. until health services opens in 12 hours#PLEASE let them have availability tomorrow bc i have literally no option on weekends#this is just. so upsetting and embarrassing. I don’t have time or emotional capacity for this#personal#mine#vent post
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crow-in-springtime · 9 months
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Horatio in one of those stories where the main character does anything and everything to prevent the death of a loved one.
I just think it would be neat
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lilgynt · 2 years
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i really do need to stop thinking about this fight but i’m legitimately gonna blow my brains out about it
#personal#like i just keep doing the same loots on the train of thoughts about it#and like as a kid i always has moments after fights were i was like#i’m never talking to him again and then he’s gonna realize how awful he is#and then like next day i’m talking to him bc my big brother is my favorite person ever#but like. i keep imagining scenarios where i can correctly explain myself and he’s listening#but i lose all the anger and fight like a sentence in#i just can’t do it#it’s not gonna change and he can’t hear me and i just can’t do it#and that makes me so fucking depressed im just fighting back tears rn#and i want to be fair to him i really do#and i’m always gonna be more biased to myself bc. well. you know#but god he’s done awful things to me#he ruined the word fag he outted me he’s said genuinely nasty and cruel things i’ve never said to him#not that i haven’t been awful back#god im getting tired explaining even this#and then i just keep thinking about how much he must hate me and that hurts worse bc i love him and i know i’m not a positive force in his#life im just like an annoying hurdle you enjoy sometimes but more out of familarity than anything else#and everyone in my family vastly prefers him and i don’t blame them!!!#i remember being a kid and seeing him get some kind of reading reward#and i was so. upset with myself bc i wasn’t like him. and i was jealous#but mostly i remember clapping super loud and thinking about how happy and proud of and for him i was#i just want him to stop treating me like i’m dumb and he says he doesn’t but he does#all the time#and i want him to stop trying to fix my problems all the time#and i feel awful that i was his responsibility unfairly for so long and im actively trying to get away from that role from him#i’m trying i’m trying and i’m trying but god above#i’m just so tired and so upset#and i’m starting to think i just cause issues on purpose#like i’m subconsciously bored bc this can’t just happening all the time to woe is me like i know i’m not but i have to be at this point
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neo-nomatrix · 5 months
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Sunshine and Midnight Rain
Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!Reader
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word count: 851
summary: Luke castellan and the daughter of apollos love story
a/n: “remember who the enemy is” IM TRYING
Luke Castellan held your heart since the day you met, and you held his.
You arrived at camp a few months after Luke. You were one of the lucky ones, claimed within an hour of being there. Your godly father is Apollo, god of poetry, the sun, music, narcissism, idiocy, stupidity, all that. You had assumed the gods would act superior to all, no matter if they were or weren’t. But Apollo was on a completely different level. You didn’t know why he had taken such a liking to you.
“You remind him of himself,” Your half sister, Kayla, had told you, “an archer who never misses, healer who fixes every wound, gifted singer, and somehow picked up the lyre in a day. And yet, you still ask why Apollo loves you the most?”
“I wish he wouldn’t,” you twirl the golden arrow he gifted you.
“y’know, that hermes boy has been staring since the moment you stepped foot here,” she smiles, nodding to the tan boy sitting on a picnic table.
“Great, more attention,” you keep your sights on the boy, lucas? Luca, maybe?
“His name’s luke castellan,” kayla says, ah luke, that’s it.
“He’s handsome,” you say matter of factly.
“Don’t trust those Hermes boys, all they do is lie,” Kayla leans back and rolls her eyes.
“It’s a good thing I play the lyre.”
——————
“You’ve got a great shot,” a deep voice says from behind you.
You’ve been at the range for around an hour, it’s 4:30, you always practice when no one else is around.
“The whole reason why I come out here this early is so i can be alone,” sure, it sounds mean but you swear you’re not trying to be.
“Sorry, once I see you it’s hard to look away,” you’re not looking at him but you can tell me has the biggest smirk on his face.
“Funny,” you tell him bluntly.
You set down your bow, keeping the arrow in your hand, and sit on the nearby grass. He lays down beside you, you follow his lead and put your hands behind your head.
“That arrow, it’s like it’s made of the sun,” He says amazed.
“A gift from dear old dad. No matter how far I shoot it’ll always come back. Supposed to be a sign of his love or something. But I think he just constantly wants me to be annoyed by him,” you inform him possibly too much.
“Most people would be grateful if their godly parent cares that much,” he says.
“It’s different with Apollo, there is no such thing as true altruism with him,” you bite your inner lip.
“I get that, I’m just tryna say- Hermes never showed up for me, and I'd kill to just have him tell me he cares,” His eyes furrow.
“Guess we both have different priorities,” you smile.
“Opposites work best don’t they?” He smiles back.
“Isn’t it opposites attract?” You wonder.
“Hey, your words, not mine,” he laughs.
“That one’s Orion,” You point up at the constellation.
“He was always my favorite,” he adds.
“Mine has always been Cassiopeia, but you can never see her over here,” You look back up at the sky.
“That one’s Taurus, and then Sirius below, and Gemini above,” you point each of them out.
Even though he hums in acknowledgment his eyes are locked on you.
“You’re staring, again” You mention.
“I told you I can’t help it, especially when you glow like that,” he reaches out and touches your face.
You reach out and grab his hand, running your fingers against his slender digits.
“I’d like to be a constellation when I die, maybe my father will fulfill that wish,” you say to him.
“That’ll be my last wish too, we can lay in the stars together.”
——————
It’s been a day since Percy Jackson came to Camp Half-blood. It just so happens to be your favorite day of the year, capture the flag. You have led the archers on the blue team for years, you’d say you’re doing well for what you’re given. Besides your siblings in Apollo the rest of the kids weren’t as gifted in archery.
As the first conch shell blew you were preparing for your mock-battle. Annabeth in charge of the plan and Percy, Luke with company, and you with the archers. You knew you could, no- would win. The archers took the trees, helping stray company from the skies.
“Today feels like a winning kind of day?” Annabeth asks luke.
“I’ll see you on the other side,” He smiles.
“Luke!” You pull him aside for a moment.
You cup his face the best you can through his armor. “You don’t get hurt okay? I don’t feel like healing anymore wounds from you. Understand?”
“Oh but I love to see you healing” he holds your hand and smirks
“Archers! Move out!” You call your team, eyes still locked with his, smiling.
“so… you and her?” Percy asks the taller boy.
“how could I not? She's perfect. I mean, I genuinely believe I could live without the sun if I just had her.”
And maybe, just maybe, he could.
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coryosbaby · 6 months
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Life Lessons
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Synopsis: helping your best friend fuck your girl can’t be that weird, right?
♡ Content warning . Threesome, pnv, anal (f recieving), degradation, sub! Reader, switch! Coriolanus, dom! Sejanus, creampie, multiple orgasms
Notes: a lil switch! Bisexual! Coryo moment?! Maybe.
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Sejanus is his best friend.
Coriolanus’ thoughts run wild with these words, and he thinks consistently and wonders incredibly why his best friend has allowed him to do this— or why Coriolanus himself agrees to this in the first place. Your thighs lay open, skirt and underwear discarded on the bedroom floor, as Coriolanus sits between them. Your cunt is achy and swollen, begging for a cock to fill it while Sejanus lays underneath you. His dick sits throbbing inside your ass as he waits for Coriolanus to slide himself into your wet heat. He waits patiently and coos into your ear as you squirm on him.
“I know,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Give him some time, baby, okay? Coryo’s new to this, he’s learning.”
Yes, ladies and gentleman, you heard that right: Coriolanus Snow, the handsome, perfect, golden boy of the capital, is a virgin. And now, he’s letting his best friend’s girl pop his cherry.
And sure, his ego is deflating right now as he strokes his cock and watches Sejanus’ experience. He’ll get that ego back up, though, once he learns. He’ll make sure he outdoes Sejanus in every aspect— he’ll show him, alright.
He growls at that comment, perceived as a snide remark to the blonde even though Sejanus didn’t mean it that way. His cockhead drips with precum and he rubs over it with his thumb as he presses himself against your entrance.
“Shut up, Sejanus,” he grunts. “Know what I’m doing..”
And obviously, he doesn’t. His cock clumsily slips against your hole, making you whine and clench in an attempt to suck his cockhead into you. His chest heaves and he lets out a frustrated sound. But not before his brows furrow and he’s saying, “What are you doing?” to Sejanus as the other boy tries to reach out and touch his cock over your shoulder. He pulls his body out of reaching distance, and Sejanus rolls his eyes and attempts to grab him again. Coriolanus slaps his hand away, confusion glazing his features. Calmer now, Sejanus holds out his hand and his eyes grow soft as Coriolanus’ face flushes with embarrassment.
“Cmon,” Sejanus says. “Trust me, Coryo.”
And he does. He trusts him so much that he can’t have room to trust anyone else. So hesitantly, shyly, he grabs Sejanus’ fingers after a moment, and settles them around the base of his cock. He moves his hips forward as Sejanus easily finds your hole without even having to look. He presses the tip of Coryo’s cock into you, and his mouth falls open at the new sensation. You look up at him with doe eyes, and although your true love is Sejanus, you’re happy that you can help Coryo take what he needs.
“Fuck..” Coriolanus grunts, shaky, pressing himself further and further into you. “Is it always this…tight?”
Sejanus chuckles, lifting his hips as if remembering the feeling of your cunt.
“Always. Especially with her. She’s always grippin’ my cock like a fuckin’ vice.” And then after a moment, a small grunt sounds from him as he grips your ass cheeks in his hands. “Even back here.. still has such a tight little hole.”
Coriolanus groans, his hips rocking into you. His balls press against your skin, and he’s all the way inside now. But it feels so good, he doesn’t want to blow his load in the next five seconds, so he goes as slow as possible. You mewl against Sejanus as he begins to move, his cock pummeling your tight little asshole while Coryo begins to speed up his thrusts in your weepy cunt. He can’t help it, now. Your pussy feels too good.
Sejanus watches as Coryo grabs your thighs desperately with his hands, and smiles.
“That’s it. Fuck her just like that.”
And god, Coryo knows it’s fucked up but Sejanus’ approval just makes him even more desperate. He grunts as he watches your cunt swallow him whole.
“Coryo,” you cry out to him. “Please, hard. Wan’ it hard in my pussy, give it to me..”
Coryo becomes confident, a small chuckle leaving his lips.
“Yeah?” He whispers. He begins to pummel you, skin slapping skin, shoving his nose right into your neck, and he doesn’t care if he isn’t giving Sejanus room to move. All he’s thinking about is how good your walls feel wrapped around him. “Greedy bitch wants another guy’s cock in her tight little pussy?”
You moan, nodding your head yes, and sejanus’ hands wrap around your neck suddenly. His cock twitches in you, the sight of his girl getting fucked by his best friend turning him on a lot more than he cares to admit.
“Kiss him,” he breathes. “Kiss him, baby, let me see.”
And of course you obey, your lips colliding with Coriolanus’ desperately, your tongue scraping the roof of his mouth as throaty moans sound from him. His cock kicks, once, twice, and he’s cumming and it’s the greatest sensation he’s ever experienced in his life as he fills you up rope after rope with warm, sticky cum.
Looking down as his orgasm slows, he looks at your blissed out face, the sudden orgasm providing him satisfaction but not quite enough.
No, this isn’t enough at all. He needs to fuck you more, he needs to use you over and over until he trains himself to fuck you long and hard. He growls, grabbing your thighs and pushing your legs over your head as his sensitive cock moves inside you again. From this angle he can see Sejanus’ cock too, slowly but surely rutting into your ass.
“Slut,” Coriolanus spits. “Fucking slut. Look at you, you just love being fucked like a useless little bitch, don’t you?”
You cry out, the sensations too much but you know you still need to cum. And luckily, there your sweet boy is— Sejanus, his fingers reaching around to hastily rub at your clit. Coriolanus grunts, pushing his fingers away and replacing them with his own.
He rubs them in fast circles, and your pussy pulls taut as you orgasm all over his thick length. Coriolanus grins, proud of himself as he sees you fall apart.
“That’s it,” he says. “Good girl. Cum on my cock.”
Your tongue lolls out, and the man spits onto it as he pounds you, fast thrusts soon giving way to slower ones as his hips stutter and he creams inside you for a second time. He relaxes against your wrecked body, sighing out as he pulls out and his cum spills out of your raw fucked hole.
His eyes connect to Sejanus’, and the boy seems proud but also angry. Coriolanus gets the message to move out of the way, and with strong arms Sejanus lifts up your body and slams you down onto the mattress. His cock moves desperately, chasing the high he’s been craving, and he grabs your wrists and pulls them behind your back as he fucks you from behind.
All the while, his jaw is clenched and he’s looking at Coriolanus with a fire in his hazel eyes. He has a bone to pick with him later for taking his girl’s orgasm as his own.
And as he watches the blonde’s cock get hard against his stomach for a third time, he knows exactly how he’s going to solve it.
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dollerines · 6 months
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How I entered the void so easily after 1 year of trying
So after 1 year and half of trying to enter I finally did it and I am so mad because it REALLY IS SOOOOO EASY and tbh if in this post you are looking for any sort of validation or info you smart ass already know then please REMEMBER THIS : entering the void is extremely easy. You just have to do it in a way that resonates with you.
Personally for me since I had adhd I couldn’t just stay still and affirm for 1 or even a few for 10 mins. Not just because I was lazy but because just repeating “I am in the void” for so long gets me tired and makes me think of the void more and you actually don’t want to think too deeep about it. I couldn’t wake 3 hours prior and then affirm or even have the patience to do the psych k, yes I was extremely lazy back then and unpresistent but one thing that helped me even backed then was THE ALPHA STATE MEDITATION !
You just have to find what works for you, find a method technique whatever you want to do that doesn’t seem like a chore. So In a post back then I found on @gorgeouslypink acc talking about doing the alpha sate meditation and I tried it back then and I felt really relaxed and it was a good feeling but like I said back then I was realllly lazy so after a few mins I stopped. Then many months later passed and I was still looking for anything and everything on the void. Then just like two days ago I came across another post which was pretty simple and the technique I used was called the DISTRACTED TECHNIQUE.
All there was to do was the usual you get into a comfortable position and then she said to use the alpha state meditation and used the one gorgeouslypink recommended. So I used it and then what she tell you to do is to just think of anything else just get distracted basically and this WAS SO GOOD 4 ME because back then I had adhd so it made it harder to concentrate on just affirming and so yeah I just thought of random things and then at some point where I was completely distracted I felt my body like lift up 😭 if that makes sense I just can’t clearly describe it. It felt really like a shift and I was like ‘panicking’ in a way but I wasn’t actually panicking I just kinda became aware what was going and then I got scared a little but I just relaxed shortly after. Also my fan that was making like a loud noises was coming in an out and then I only hear it in one ear and then I didn’t hear anything and I just stayed there wondering if I reached the void and i actually was!!! I didn’t feel my body it felt like I had no body at all and it was pitch black just like how I imagined the void to be. For a few minutes I just stayed there feeling the most surreal peace I have ever felt. I needed that peace fr 💀.
So then I affirmed for my desires all I said was “I have all my desired results from my subliminal playlist.” Then just to be extra sure I just said “I have everything I want.”
At that point I got really excited and then I wiggled my toes to get out because I was too dam happy I needed to see all my shit the moment I wake up and then I slowly started getting out and when I tell you I cried for like a good dam minute when I woke up and saw how DIFFERENT. My room looked. I literally screamed onto my pillow. I was so dam scare and yet excited to see how I looked.
WHAT I MANIFESTED :
Desired body and face
Having silky straight tailbone length hair cuz mines was originally curly
And everything in my sub playlist
My desired boyfriend and guys I made him be like Gojo Satoru ( because we are all delusional over him 🤪) and let me tell you he is so tall, handsome, sexy and a literal god. He is so silly too 🩷
Moving countries I now live in ny
Never actually meeting my ex and all the people in my old school forget me and have actually never even met me. Like if u asked them about me they have never heard or known me before
Extremely rich rich like hella bands
Got rid of my anxiety and mental health issue
Plus +++
NEVER EVER GIVE UP ON YOUR DREAMS.
Even if the circumstances seem to be eating you alive don’t mind that too much. Even if all seems hopeless don’t give up because you already know nothing can decide or be unless you give it power to be. So stop being goofy and take responsibility and DONT STRESS!! You don’t see God stressing do you. All he has to do is blink and whatever he wants to happen, happens. Plus a lot of confidence came from non dualism that I owe a huge thanks to @trynafindbarbiee she really said it like it is !!
YOU GOT THIS ML 🩷🩷🩷🩷
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azullumi · 2 months
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"once more to see you" ; aventurine
summary — to him, love was like a religion waiting to be discovered and he’ll find god in the way the sun looks on your skin; alternatively, aventurine thinks he’s rotten work and tiring to take care of but not to you, not if it's him (please get the reference).
pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — established relationship (but aventurine wants to de-establish it), somewhat fluff, slight angst with comfort, never proofread never what?!!, 1.3k ; ficlet
note — 2.1 broke me (the whole quest knocked at the door of my house, shook my hands, congratulated me, and invited itself into my home before pouring water on my face, slapping me, throwing me around, and left with the door open, all the while, my family watched). this is day 1 of writing for aventurine until i have him.
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“you have a lot of moles.” his voice, despite a gentle whisper, tears through the silence of the night like a drop of water that ruptured and disturbed the surface of the pond. “especially here.” he gently taps on your skin; they seem like stars, he swallows the words back down. 
you feel aventurine’s finger trace on the back of your neck and the curve of your shoulders, seemingly drawing—or connecting something. it was ticklish, the way he gently drags his hand and ghosts over your skin, a soft laugh slipping past your lips (you’ll capture his touch on your skin as if you were a sinner remembering how forgiveness tasted on your lips). there was something intimate that lingers in the air between you two as you lay in his bed with him, a fleeting moment that will be inked into your mind. 
(the both of you leave your titles behind, mixed together with the scattered objects on the floor, laid on the cold ground to be picked up and worn later like a shiny medal even if you weren’t proud to have them.)
“they say it’s where your lover kissed you the most in your past life.” you stir in your position as you speak, coming to face him and meet his pretty jewel-like eyes—how alluring it was, painted with vivid colors yet it never shines. the sound of mirth laughter bubbles from his throat, a pleasant melody to your ears.
he asks, curiosity tracing the tone of his voice, “and from where did you even hear that?” and you shrug, bringing your form closer to him as you seek for more warmth, “i can’t recall. perhaps i heard it from topaz or maybe from one of the members of the ipc? they’re the only ones i often see and talk to.”
“the doctor?” he wraps his arm around your figure, his hand settling on the small of your back.
“that man will only scorn at that idea and call it stupid. he’ll most likely say that ‘only fools would believe such concepts.’” you mimic the way the esteemed doctor spoke, from the serious expression that he always don on his face to the deepening of his voice. your seemingly successful imitation earned a chuckle from the blonde-haired man before you.
“i’m sure he will.”
silence falls between you two and you took this time to adore each and every line of his being. a few strands of hair fall over his eyes—beautiful, captivating, mesmerizing, you could list out every word to describe his eyes but it would never be enough. you had always wondered why he would hide it until you witnessed the reason why he does so. 
aventurine seems to study your expression at the same also, a soft look on his face as he did, and you can’t help but be curious. “what are you thinking about?” you ask him, breaking the silence that nurtured itself in the space between you and him.
you, he wishes to answer. how you look at this moment in his embrace: you were wearing one of his shirts, albeit, not exactly to your size but you insisted, saying that you liked it as it smelled like him. how gentle, loving, adoring, you were everything; he looks and thinks of you as if you were his everything (he doesn’t deserve you). but he doesn’t say it—the thought weighs too heavily on his mind, claws at his throat, and suffocates him—, instead he utters something entirely different that creates a shift in the air between you two. 
“i don’t think i can do this.” he turns his head to look away from you, staring at the ceiling instead. it seems to extend itself far and far away from him.
the horrible part of being human is the tendency for destruction that lies in your bones. stained palms, calloused pads, despite the gentleness of your touch and the comfort of your caress. the desire to devour flesh and bones, to understand the underlying thoughts and meanings behind words and unexpressed feelings by consuming them. to submerge and drown in the depths of one's despair and desire (too close that the line blurs into one). the horrible part of being him was his tendency to destroy—hesitation and doubt lies in his being and aches at his chest, tugging on his heart’s strings, and settles on his throat—, it’s not like he doesn’t want to hold you, it’s just that he can’t.
“do what?”
“this.” you know exactly what he was referring to, know what he’s afraid of. he has laid himself bare and vulnerable in front of you countless of times that you have memorized the constellations that adorns his skin. you know him, you have known him enough to recognize the fear that tugs on his voice and see the walls that he tries to build up in front of you. you know him enough to know what thoughts are plaguing his mind.
“why do you think so?”
“don’t you think i’m too much to take care of?” he tries not to choke on his words and bite his tongue, careful not to let his voice crack lest he crumbles underneath your caress. i am undeserving of it. worthless. failure. selfish. discarded. coward. loser. nothing. you are bound to leave. 
“not for me.” you caress his cheek and guide him to look at you—instead of the ceiling that seems to appear farther than it originally was in each passing second as the walls glean over him like a shadow—, to meet your gaze and see the sincerity that lurks deep within. “never will i get tired of you. so, let me carry your burden.”
he takes a few seconds to answer, uncertainty lingering in his tone: “it’s not yours to have.”
“it may not be.” you answer with no hesitation, “but it doesn’t mean that you must shoulder them alone.”
he opens his mouth to speak but unable to find the words to say, he closes them. there was a moment of stillness shared between you two. comfort, relief, assurance seeps into the ache of his bones and you say something too heavy even for this steady and silent night to hold, the words too much to be held—light spills in like a flood as if it was pouring out from the sun itself.
“i love you.”
“you utter such words as if it’s something easy for you.” as if loving him was just as simple as waking up in the morning and adoring the way the honey-light hugs your form as the dust settles in the corner of your room. when he’s stripped of everything and left with nothing, would you still love him the same? would you still kiss him as gently as you did? would you still hold the shards of his form even if it makes your hand bleed? 
you spoke in a gentle yet firm croon, gaze unwavering, “because it is.”
you see the falter in his expression: his face, that once was crumpled, relaxed and so did his gaze soften. and you smile at him with only adoration in your eyes—like a devout follower to a divine being. “are you still afraid?”
“i don’t know.” he whispers.
“it’s alright. you have all the time in the world.” your hand weaves itself into his own, fingers lacing with one another, and you gently squeeze. it was a form of reassurance, a way of telling him that you’re here with him through all of it.
the warmth has settled in your being and you spill yourself into the cracks of his vulnerability. “i love you.” you say once more and you kiss the mark on his neck—lingering and soft as if you wish that it would take all his hurt away. the way he shudders underneath your touch, the hitch of his breath soon followed by a gentle sigh as he cradles you closer to him tells you everything that you wish to hear.
for once, he sleeps as if he had nothing to carry, nothing that shackles him to the stars that forsakes him.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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augustinewrites · 8 months
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the dull throb resonating over your entire body is what eventually rouses you, slowly bringing you back into consciousness. your head feels like a sword’s been driven through it, leaving your mind muddled.
the first thing you see is satoru hunched over your bedside, his hand carefully clutching yours. you call his name, but your voice is hoarse and scratchy and barely above a whisper.
he hears you regardless, eyes wide and alert as he lifts his head. he looks tired, dark circles stamped under his eyes and an unusual stiffness in his movements.
“you’re…okay,” he says, strained. as if he can’t believe it. you hum in response - because it’s all you can manage at the moment - feeling your eyelids begin to droop your will. “get some more rest. i’ll call shoko.” 
the gentle brush of his lips against your forehead is the last thing you feel before drifting back to sleep.
_____
you’re not sure how much time has passed when you come to. now, the room is illuminated by honeyed lamplight and you see shoko and satoru talking quietly at the foot of your bed. 
“glad to see you’re still with us,” your best friend smiles once she notices you’re awake. she moves to your side, leaning over you to pull back the thin blanket. there’s a swathe of bandages wrapped around your shoulder and a sling immobilizing your arm. 
“how do you feel?” satoru asks, that worried look still set in his expression. 
“i‘m fine,” you manage to answer, trying to blink the room into focus.
“you need to be more careful,” shoko tells you, peeling her gloves off and tossing them into the trash. the usual air indifference in her voice is gone, replaced with concern. “take satoru with you next time. not because i think you’re incapable of doing your job, but so he can do the corny, heroic thing and take the hit for you. god knows he could stand to be humbled every once in a while…” 
“thanks, shoko,” your boyfriend scoffs, but the way his hand grips yours tightly tells you he’d be more than willing to be your corny hero. 
you hate the way they look down at your prone form as shoko goes over your treatment plan. it makes you feel small and weak, and you are neither of those things. 
“can you help me sit up?”
“you shouldn’t be moving around–” 
your body burns with protest as you awkwardly push yourself up anyway, exhaling a pained hiss as gojo swears, reaching out to help steady your trembling torso as shoko shoves pillows behind your back. 
“i’m fine,” you argue, trying to ignore the throbbing behind your temples. you don’t remember exactly how you’d ended up in the school’s infirmary, just remember the way pain had exploded across your left side when you’d been hit.  
“you almost weren’t,” he says quietly. a deeply haunted look clouds his face as he recalls what must have happened after you’d been brought in, and you feel guilty for not being able to remember it. 
so you let him squeeze into bed next to you, let him carefully pull you into his chest and hold you until you feel the tension in his body dissipate. you know he needs this a little more than you do, know that the knowledge of you being okay isn’t enough. it won’t stop the fear and anxiety of losing you from gnawing on the edge of his sanity.
“i wanna give the flowers–”
“so you can take all the credit? i’m the one who bought them!”
your pained grimace easily turns to a smile when the door opens to reveal megumi and tsumiki, who are both gripping a bouquet of flowers. nanami follows them in, wearing the tired look of a man that’s never spent more than three hours dealing with moody preteens raised by gojo – until today.
_____
your family spoils you over the next few days. the three of them falling asleep on the little couch in your room, tucked under gojo’s arms every night until you’re cleared to go home. even then, they don’t leave your side. tsumiki snuggles next to you to watch movies and bakes you little treats. megumi reads to you from the book you’d been going through together and listens to your favourite records with you after school. 
satoru posts himself by your side. you like having him around. like the gentle way he handles you when working through the stretches shoko prescribes. like watching the way his hands move he diligently slices wedges of fresh fruit. 
you like being the focus of his single-minded attention, but you know how restless he can get when he doesn’t go off to work. rightfully so, because the jujutsu world would probably fall apart without him.
“you can go if you want,” you say one day, when he gets off a phone call with yaga. “i’ll be okay for a few hours.” 
he doesn’t get up, instead beginning to peel a plump orange (you’d never noticed how nice his hands were until now). “no, nanami’s still covering for me.” 
“satoru,” you sigh, taking an orange slice from him. “there’s a lot going on, you have bigger fish to fry.”
“i’m not going anywhere,” he tells you firmly, looking like he’d physically fight the idea of leaving your side. “you’re my fish.”
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help-itrappedmyself · 3 months
Text
Dead on Main AU
Masterpost
Guys, I'm so sorry. But here's this!
~~~~
Danny blinks and he is somewhere else. He’s sitting at a dining room table, surrounded. There are so many people here. They’re all talking over each other, some yelling, some laughing. This scene comes as a great surprise to him, who -one blink ago- was trying and failing to do his homework at home in his room. Danny shoots up, his chair making a horrible noise as he pushes it away so fast it tumbles over. Everyone in the room turns to look over at him like he’s insane. 
“Oh my god, who are you people?” Danny did not mean to say this out loud, but at the sound of his voice he startles. Danny takes a moment to assess, and then, “Oh my god who am I?”  He is tall, and big, and this is certainly not his body, what is he wearing.
The boy sitting to the right of Danny, a little shorter than he is, with black hair and blue eyes (though now that he’s paying attention that does describe most people in the room),  starts chuckling lightly. “Uh, Jason? Are you good?” 
Danny turns to stare him right in the eyes. “What day is it?”
And he can tell the concern around the table is just ratcheting up every time he opens his stupid mouth.
“Did you hit your head on patrol?” The voice comes from the only blond and one of the only girls in the room, who's to the left of the person across from him. The person across from him is another boy with black hair and blue eyes who is studying Danny in a way that makes him uncomfortable, that under-a-microscope look that makes you feel like you’re failing at something.
“I have no idea if Jason hit his head.” Danny says. “I was just trying to remember if it was my birthday.”
And if he thought the room was busy when he first arrived here it is absolute pandemonium now. Everyone starts shouting and asking questions that he can’t even hear over the shouting. Someone with white hair in a suit just came through a door he didn’t even see earlier to stand by the only person not shouting, who -Danny would guess- is the only other adult in this room, witting at the head of the table. He also has black hair and blue eyes, and where almost everyone else’s reaction was panic, he froze instead. The person across from Danny also isn’t shouting, but the person next to Danny on his right has now fully stood up and looks like he might actually jump across the table to win the argument he ended up in. 
“Are you Jason’s soulmate?” is the main gist of the shouting that Danny can interpret but he’s more concerned with actual Jason at the moment. If they switched bodies... Then Jason might be in trouble…
“Hey, I forget, how long is this body swap supposed to last again?” Danny asks.
“Until you and Jason have physical contact. You have to actually meet.” The boy sitting across from him explains. He seems like one of the only ones that heard Danny talk, everyone else was still shouting. 
“Oh, that just seems terrible. What if we’re in different countries or something?” Danny complained. “Everyone in the world is just supposed to be able to drop everything and afford to fly across the world. The universe is really trying to screw people over now. Honestly, am I in a different country? Where even are we right now?”
“You’re in Gotham.” This voice was new, coming from the head of the table to Danny’s right. 
“Oh no. Nope.” Danny started backing away from the table, almost tripping on his overturned chair. “Absolutely not, no, how do I get out of here?” He starts earnestly looking for a door to get out of this place, but there are three doors he can see and he has no idea where any of them go, and doesn’t this room have any windows? What kind of a room doesn’t have any windows? Do they like to eat in a basement?
“Jason- not Jason. Uh, you need to calm down, everything will be fine alright, We’ll get you and Jason introduced no problem.” Danny swivels to track the voice and it’s the one who was sitting next to him, he’s walking towards him with his hands up and out in front of him. 
“I have to get home.” Danny breathes. 
“We can get you there, promise. Now, I’m Dick, can you tell me your name?”
“Your name is Dick? Who named you Dick?” Danny is so confused he’s stopped panicking. “How old are you for you to go by the name Dick?”
“Okay, rude.” Dick sounds like a petulant child so Danny’s estimations for his age are continuously dropping. “I’m 24.”
Danny snorts. “Okay.” The blond girl starts laughing over at the table. “I’m uh, I’m Danny.”
“Nice to meet you. Sort of. I’m Tim.” The guy from across from him had made it over to stand next to Dick. “There’s a lot of us here today so the one laughing like a hyena is Steph. That one there is Duke.” African-American, still with black hair but he has brown eyes and waves once introduced. “Damian is the short one next to him, and Cass was sitting across from Dick earlier. Our dad, Jason’s dad-” 
“Not my dad!” Steph interrupted. Tim waves her off.
“Everyone but Steph's dad, is over there, Bruce. Alfred, our butler is the one next to him.” Alfred gives a slight nod to his head. Bruce is just staring at him.
“So, names out of the way. You said you wanted to go home, where do you live?”
“Amity Park.”
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irndad · 2 months
Text
oh, but you're good to me -s.r.
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a/n: i continue to not know the word count- but here's pining!spencer x sunshine!reader!! very hozier coded <3
The team has gone out for drinks after a stressful week, and this is a moment where Spencer finds that his willpower does not so easily overpower his desire. They’d chosen a kind of kitsch place, the kind where there’s couches where waitresses could bring you your drink under dimmed lights and music with cozy acoustic music played. Emily and Morgan were comparing conquests at their trip to the club the week prior, Penelope chiming in with warm support on either end. On the opposite table, Hotch and Rossi were discussing criminology in serious, even tones. 
And Spencer, well. He was well-occupied. 
His best friend is on the team, and he does not say that lightly. She’s earned her place in his heart, as hopelessly romantic as that makes him sound. But she did. He remembers the day he met her, warm tone seeped in patience and understanding. 
He remembers the sight of her like its engraved crystal, carved into the basis of his mind. Her delicate features distinct in their warm kindness. She’d offered her hand, shook it and giggled a sweet sound when he’d said it’d be safer to kiss. He’d blushed enough that his lack of flirtation in his intent was clear. 
On the jet, that first case, she’d listened to him talk about Russian literature and other obscure topics he couldn’t remember now, because now, all he can recall is the color of her doe eyes meeting him in intention. 
He’s pretty sure he’s in love with her. 
Which, right now, feels a bit like a drug- both painful and exhilarating. She’s a cuddly drunk (only with him, it seems) and he’s got a lanky arm tugged over her shoulder. It’s lovely in a way words vex him, the weight of her against him. 
“You look nice today, Spence,” she muses, looking up at him. His heart is going to stop.
“You do too,” he breathes out. This is nice. She’s touchy, and he likes when she touches him. It’s a pleasure, like sipping expensive wine or decadent chocolate, sweet and a little bit sad, because you know you can’t have it forever. 
She plays with his scarf, and he is hopelessly endeared by the sight of the fabric in between her delicate fingers. 
“This color is nice,” she muses, and god,  he wants to kiss her. This a thought Spencer has often, oftentimes at inopportune times. On the jet, in the office, at her house, in the car- always, really. 
Except now, no one’s looking at them. If loving her was enough to make her love him back, then he could. 
But it isn’t. 
He chokes back the emotion rich in his throat. He brushes her hair out of her face, a tender motion that betrays his intentions with her. 
“You always look lovely,” Spencer says earnestly. I love looking at you, he thinks.
She smiles back earnestly and warmly. 
“I didn’t think you noticed things like that.”
“I always do, when it’s you.”
He doesn’t know why this is what he’s allowed to have. She’s so close to him, pinned up against him and he can feel the curve of her waist against his side. He doesn’t get it, why he’s not her boyfriend but he still gets moments like these, where she’s pinned to him like velcro. He’s addicted to them, really- craves the moments where she falls asleep on his lap on the jet, where they’ll be walking together somewhere and she’ll lace their fingers and tug him along when she’s excited and the destination in sight.
Maybe this is just how she touches her best friends- he tries not to question it, because he doesn’t want to loosest. 
But tonight, under the low-light of the bar, shadows of her lashes thrown across the slope of her cheek- he wants to ask her.
“Are you like this with everyone?” He muses. He immediately regrets it, sees her face harden and feels the shift away from him, and the space leaves a gap of cold air. There’s a swoop f nerves in his stomach.
“I don’t know, I think I just thought- you know, we’re like this. We’re touchy, you and me.”
He’s not touchy. Everyone knows this, but she’s the exception to a rule that has held true his entire life. But he loves this, loves the feeling of this.
“I like this,” he says, intentional eye contact trained on her shaking irises. He reaches out and laces their fingers in an act of bravery that rivals some of his most intense moments, “I’m wanting inf you want more of it. Because I do.”
“You do?”
She’s back close to him, now, and he’s so immensely grateful for it. She smells like lilies and her, and this might be the only time he’s brave enough to do something like this. 
It turns out he doesn’t have to, because before he can answer, she kisses him. It happens fast, and his response is all instinct- pulling her into him closer, his hands around her waist and her soft sigh into his mouth that threatens to kill him. It’s better than his fantasies at night could have made him expect. 
“Hi,” she says, barely above a whisper when she pulls away. She looks a little adorably off-guard, in a way he’d like to create- like to instigate. 
“Hi back,” he says, a beaming grin threatening to spread over his face. He tries to memorize the feeling of this, the weight of her in his arms in case this is not something he can keep- he wants to remember it, what it felt like for her to kiss him, to be wanted by her. 
“Do you want to go out sometime?”
“Like out of here? It’s kind of cold outside-“
“On a date, Spencer.”
Instead of a response, Spencer kisses her again. It is absolutely the right choice.
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purerae · 2 months
Text
╭────༺♡༻────╮
YANDERE!PERV X FEM!READER // PT1
warnings ;; nsfw themes, creepy behaviour, overall yandere themes
╰────༺♡༻────╯
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˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who didn’t really believe in love at first sight. ‘People were horrible and mean, loves not real at all!’
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who immediately disregards his previous statement the moment he saw you, his ears perking up at the sound of your voice speaking to your fellow classmates.
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who’s enamoured with you the first time you ran into the lecture hall, hair messed up, books all jumbled and bag almost falling off. You looked so perfect and sweet!
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who watches you so intently as you work, he stares at you as if he’s an eagle. Everyone notices him staring at you and thinks he’s a perverted freak, but you don’t pay any mind to it. That must mean you think he’s okay!? that must mean you like him..<3
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who doesn’t even have a conversation with you for months but just practically eye-fucks you. He remembers all your outfits and if you ever rewore them. Your favourite sweater, which he wants to steal so he can do god knows what to it.
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who almost whimpers when you sit next to him, He secretly thanks the person who stole your self assigned seat.
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who’s eyes widen as he realises he’s going to have to speak to you. shit shit shit what should he do?!
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who after 30 long minutes, has the courage to shyly ask for a pen. quickly hiding his stationary; he stutters, pauses, and whispers the 7 words. It’s practically impossible to understand him. “d..do you have…a p..pen that i can borrow..?”
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who almost combusts when you give him a polite grin, saying ‘of course!’ and lending him a pen before focusing back on your work. To you it was a conversation you don’t think twice about, for him? It made his entire month.
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who can’t even focus on his work as he notices the bite marks on top of your pen. your lips and teeth touched the lid…his slender fingers slowly brush the bite marks, hands quivering with delight. Even a streak of blood couldn’t compare to how red he was. He’s keeping this pen no matter what.
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who gasps in relief when you leave forgetting to ask for your pen back, he quickly puts it in his bag and beams happily all the way back to his flat. The happiest he’s been in years!
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who places the stolen pen on his night desk, and kisses the top of it every night like a routine. ‘I’m practically kissing her~!’
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who slowly collects the things you accidentally leave behind. Half drunk water bottle? His. A tissue you used when it was getting a bit cold? In his pocket like it’s his hankerchief. A core of an apple you chucked into the trash can before walking into the class? Treats it like it’s Gods gift
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who built a mini shrine of your belongings at the back of his closet. His harmless little secret, no body, especially you needs to know.
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ YANDERE!PERV who loves you so so so much! he’d do anything for you! ..even if you guys have only ever spoken once or twice.
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“Mmm hey! Can you help me with this question…?”
purerae<3
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charliemwrites · 4 months
Text
Part 4 of Mafia!Price
No Content Warnings
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There are many things to appreciate about your boss, but one of them is his respect for routine. You’ve gotten him on a schedule and now he seems happily beholden to it; appreciates your promptness with tea and pastries and morning “briefings” each day.
He’ll happily sit back in his big leather chair and listen to you chatter out his itinerary for the day. Meetings, reports, phone calls. Trips to the dock, now, bless him.
You try not to stare between glances at your tablet. For a rich bastard, he is unfairly handsome. Good taste in just about everything, classy and luxurious without being ostentatious. Old money vibes, for sure, though you know better than to do more than idly wonder. Helps that he’s also remarkably gentlemanly with you. You’re not one to buy into old stereotypes or gender roles, even the ones that benefit you — but you’ll take a chivalrous boss over your old one any day.
Besides, it’s not like he’s spouting off about what women should and shouldn’t be doing. Or trying to use you as an example of an “acceptable” working woman. So, yeah, you’ll indulge in the door-holding and offered arms.
“Alright, best for last — your reservation for Muse is tomorrow. The restaurant is twenty minutes from your penthouse, so Simon will be downstairs by 7:30.”
You check that off your to-do list as you continue speaking.
“Do you have a suit picked out yet, or should I order something? Green is in season and it would go nicely with your eyes.”
He hums; you glance up. Leaning back, one arm lax on the arm of his chair, black watch gleaming. The other is propped to press his index finger against his lips. Like he’s telling you to keep a secret. The corners of his mouth are tilted up.
Your tablet dings and thankfully distracts you from staring.
Oh, for the love of— the only person more inconsiderate than Philip Graves is his damn assistant.
“Is that the color you’re wearing, then?”
Will need to call later today — as if!
“Hm?” You ask, not having caught it.
He arches his eyebrows; ah, you must have been making a face again.
“Are you wearing green tomorrow?” He repeats.
You blink. Are you what?
“Tomorrow, sir?”
He nods, once. “To Muse, luv.”
When you continue to stare with pleasant obliviousness, his eyebrows furrow a bit.
“You do know one of those seats is for you, yeah?”
You press your lips together for a moment. Well… shit. You take it back. You take it all back. John Price is a terrible, horrible, awful man who is so rude.
“I do now.”
Across the office, you make wide eye contact with Gaz. He grimaces in sympathy and ducks his head, though it’s clearly just to hide his traitorous laughter.
“Of course you’re coming along.”
“Sir,” you say, pleasant and sweet, “remember when I first started here? And I told you that I’m not a mind reader?”
“Of course,” he answers. “You threatened to spit in my tea in the same breath.”
“Only if you told me to fetch it for you,” you correct, before continuing, “I feel you may need a reminder: I cannot read your mind. How was I supposed to know you wanted me to go with you?”
“‘S your job, isnit?” He replies. You give him a dark look; he puts his hands up with a chuckle. “My apologies love, I thought you’d be in my pocket next to my handkerchief. Like always.”
You set your hand on your hip, proper cross now.
“It’s outside usual working hours, sir. How could I have possible expected to be invited to your fancy man party?”
“‘Fancy man party’?”
“Well, there’s nothing for it, I’ll have to leave early tomorrow.”
You’re already tapping madly at your tablet, looking up a salon willing to do your hair and makeup. God knows what kind of meltdown you’ll have if you can’t get your eyeliner symmetrical.
“Do whatever you need to do, luv,” Price soothes, standing. “I really am sorry for the short notice.”
You wave him off, then pat his arm as he gently guides you towards the door. Absently, you comply, more focused on getting appointments set and rearranging your own schedule for tomorrow.
“I’ll make it work,” you promise, “I always do.”
You let him bring you all the way to your desk, lower yourself into your ergonomic rolling chair.
“I’ll let you know what color I’m wearing by… one o’clock. Yes?”
“Sounds great, luv.”
You glance at the clock. “Also you have a call with the KorTac Group in ten.”
He chuckles and taps your chin. “Cheers, luv.”
Simon is the one to pick you up Friday evening. You both pause in the lobby of your apartment complex, staring.
“You look lovely,” he says at the same time you ask, aghast, “what happened to your face?”
He’s got a dark bruises discoloring the skin around one eye. Clearly some ice has already been applied because the swelling is down, but it must be fresh because he didn’t have it yesterday.
He snorts. “My job happened.”
You tut. “I’ve got something for that but we need to get moving. Mr. Price said he needs some help with his suit.”
You grab his arm without hesitation, habit from any of your escorts or drivers always offering it to you. Usually you accept out of politeness, but tonight you could use the extra stability in your heels. Simon doesn’t seem to mind even though this is the first time you’ve done this.
He walks you to the car, holds the door for you. Sleek and spotless, a black Jaguar — your choice for the evening. You hum in delight at the warm interior as Simon slides into the front seat.
“Oh, thank you for the compliment, by the way,” you add as he pulls into traffic. “You look quite smart as well.”
He grunts, but you notice a bit of color to his ears in the passing streetlights. You smile to yourself and busy yourself with your tablet. Double checking the reservation confirmation, answering messages from Farah and Gaz, updating Price on your ETA.
The car stops at a luxury high rise just at 7. You hop out before Simon can get the door and receive a sharp look. He holds up a reprimanding finger; blink in surprise at the sternness of it.
“You pull that shite again and I’ll handcuff you to the door handle, miss.” He warns. “Making me look bad.”
You huff, amused, and take his arm again. “Don’t threaten me, Mr. Riley, I’m meaner.”
But you squeeze his thick bicep good-naturedly as he leads you into Price’s building. Your boss lives in the penthouse at the very top; Simon has to swipe a card for access. He’s also got a key to let you both in the door, holds it so you can enter first.
It’s all sleek and modern; not at all what you would expect of your boss’s more classical style. His office has a sort of 20s Hollywood vibe (gangster, you teased once) but clearly some interior designer was paid far too much for something out of a drab minimalist catalogue.
You don’t linger long, heels clicking on the polished floors.
“Sir?” you call.
“In here, luv.”
You grimace at the flight of stairs between you and the loft, but force yourself up them. The whole floor is the mater bedroom and it’s the size of your entire apartment. Walk-in closet, sectioned off lounge with a desk. His bathroom door is open, mirror fogged. It smells like soap.
“Bedroom to your right,” he calls.
You tip-tap in and your mouth instantly dries. Price is standing in the middle of the room, half dressed. Nothing unprofessional, no. He’s wearing slacks, a belt. But he’s also in socks, a white undershirt. No watch or rings or anything yet.
It feels oddly more intimate than it should. Your face warms despite yourself.
“E-evening, sir.”
He turns and you’re utterly unprepared for just how handsome he really is. Freshly groomed, hair trimmed and gelled, eyes bright.
“Well, aren’t you just a dream,” he rasps. “You’re stunning.”
You clear your throat, know that all the makeup in the world can’t hide how brightly you’re flushing. It’s pure politeness, he’s not looking at you with anything more than friendly appreciation. Mind out of the gutter, now.
“All the flattery in the world won’t save you if we’re late,” you manage, shaking yourself back into work mode. “So let’s see what we’ve got.”
You pick his shirt, a pocket hanky, his shoes. Tell him to get into those while calling Simon up the stairs. He’s there so fast you blink in surprise, then gesture him over. Sit him on an ottoman and extract the little bottle of makeup you’ve started keeping on hand for situations like this.
“Bullshite you had that in your purse,” he scoffs.
“You remember two weeks ago, when Soap came in with that bruise on his jaw?”
They told you it was a “disagreement” at the docks. You didn’t ask further, figuring it was some sort of bar brawl in that part of town. Rowdy boys.
“Ever since, I keep a couple minis on hand for you all.”
They’re so small that you just keep them in a pocket of your purse with the rest of your makeup and the tampons. Good for emergencies like this.
“You sure you’re not a mind reader?” Simon grumbles as you gently dab it over his face.
“How would being a mind reader even help in this situation,” you scoff, patting at it with your middle finger.
Price steps out of the closet with arms out. He’s picked a waistcoat as well that you hum in approval at.
“Which cufflinks are you wearing?” you ask, turning back to Simon. He’s sitting remarkably still and stoic — reminds you of a big dog trying to maintain some dignity while getting fawned over.
“The silver and diamond.”
You make a noise of disagreement. “The gold and onyx would go better.”
A pause. You sneak a glance and are relieved to see him smirking. “I’ll wear those then. Any opinion on a watch?”
You hum again, carding through your mental catalogue. “Oh! The Bulova you wore during that meeting with Kate Laswell. You remember?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He disappears into his closet again while you lightly blend in the last touches of Simon’s coverup.
“There we are, good as new!” You declare. “Oh, and here.”
You set a couple of ibuprofen in his palm as he stands. “For the inflammation. Take with water.”
“Yes, mum,” he mumbles.
You wince. “Sorry! I’m being overbearing, aren’t I?”
He blinks, then puts a hand up. “No, no. That wasnt — I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
You don’t entirely believe him. Know that you can be a bit much when you’re on a time crunch. Especially for something like this — an important business meeting over fancy dinner. You feel like everyone’s appearance is riding on you; this is your job after all. One thing out of place and everything will fall apart and it’ll be your fault.
“Simon, go take those,” Price orders from behind.
You turn as he approaches, a similar apology all set on your tongue. Instead, he gives you a sheepish smile and offers the cufflinks.
“Bloody useless with these,” he explains. “So unless you want to spend fifteen minutes losing respect for me…”
You laugh, amused by the idea of your hyper-capable boss struggling with a bit of jewelry that cost as much as a week of work. You step in close to thread them through his sleeves, fingers nimble and sure.
“You’re not wearing cologne?” You ask, surprised.
Don’t even realize how that might sound until he arches an eyebrow at you.
“Thought you might have an opinion on that too,” he replies. “And you haven’t steered me wrong, yet.”
He shows you his modest, but impressive collection of colognes. You pluck up one, sniff, and make a face, eyes watering a bit. It’s mostly full; clearly one he doesn’t wear often and you’re grateful for it.
“That bad, eh?”
“Sir, why?” You lament, putting it back.
“Gift from an ex,” he explains.
You store that tidbit of information away for further examination. The idea of your boss in a romance. Right now you’ve got a task to focus on.
“Did they hate you that entire time?” You wonder.
He snorts. “Maybe.”
You shake your head and pick a different one. Blink in surprise and sniff again. Feel your stomach flip.
“That one?” He asks when he notices you hesitate.
“No,” you say a little too quickly, setting it down. This is a business meeting, you can’t afford to be distracted by how he’ll smell with that on his skin.
You settle on one that doesn’t make your head dizzy and your panties shamefully damp. Still feel a bit like you’re shooting yourself in the foot, though. He’s going to smell sinfully good regardless.
You leave Price to his finishing touches and have Simon help you down the stairs. Check through the notes you hurriedly collected when you realized you’d be attending this dinner.
Price comes down too soon for your poor, stupid heart. Looks like something out of a magazine or a novel or a movie or… just too good to be real, really.
“Pass inspection?” He asks.
“Barely,” you tease.
His eyes do that thing where they smile more than his mouth; how you know it’s genuine. You try not to fluster, zero in on his tie, a little crooked and loose.
“Goodness, sir,” you murmur, stepping in close. Yeah, you were right. That cologne is going to be a personal challenge all night. “How did you get along before me?”
“With bad cologne and shitty ties, apparently,” he chuckles.
You grin despite yourself, getting it secure and centered, before smoothing his vest over it. Give him a once over. Feel your stomach flip again.
“If I may say, sir, you look handsome,” you offer quietly.
“Should hope so,” he replies, voice dipping in a way that’s detrimental to the state of your panties. “You dressed me.”
You hum, reach for your usual dry, sharp humor. “I have great taste.”
Instead of scoffing, he hums in agreement. Something flickers through his eyes that you don’t dare allow yourself to daydream on.
Simon, bless him, clears his throat and draws your attention. You check the clock above the stove.
“Ah, we need to get going. I can’t walk fast in these heels.”
You slip your arm automatically into Price’s and try not to obsess over how well you two fit together.
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