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caninepoetryrelator · 7 months

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Liquid Luck

Carl Grimes x Reader (16+)

Aged up Carl Grimes x Reader soft smut

Synopsis: Carl and you are not friends. So what’s gonna happen when you’re locked in a room together with a bottle of whiskey?

Warnings: Dick, dick getting sucked, no fully blown sex just oral, Carl is a cutie, also it’s a zombie apocalypse there’s gonna be zombies, plus various weapons and very brief nondescript violence.

Words: 3,843

It all started with a bad raid. We figured we could sneak into the pharmacy, get the medicine for Hershel, and then get out without attracting any attention.

Rick and Daryl stayed outside and kept watch while he sent you and Carl to take care of the rest.

That was it, straightforward, in and out.

Or at least it had been.

A week prior Glenn had put a boombox on the rooftop of the place to attract the walkers out and up instead of prowling the streets and the building.

The windows were almost all broken. Either by walkers or raiders, we didn’t know. But it sure was convenient when the door turned out to be locked.

You watched Carl adjust the brim of his hat and narrow his eyes at a broken square window a few feet above his head.

“I think I can fit,” he stated firmly, casting you a sidelong glance, quickly looking back at Rick when you made eye contact.

He had never been outright rude to you; he had never been anything to you. He had only introduced himself with a short greeting and a tight smile. He seemed much more open with everyone else yet standoffish around you.

“The kid can fit too,” agreed Daryl, nodding towards you. He’d always called you that despite you being the same age as Carl.

Carl’s face dropped as he glanced at you again. “I can do it by myself.”

“No, you can’t,” ordered Rick. “We don’t know how many walkers are still in there. You’re taking her with you.”

He sighed. Did he really not like you this much?

Before you had come to a conclusion Daryl had laid a leather jacket over the jagged glass in the frame before he and Rick boosted Carl into the window.

“I’ll make sure it’s safe!” He hollered from inside the building. There was some scuffling inside for a moment before he yelled “It’s clear!”

Next thing you knew you were standing in their respective interlaced fingers and they boosted you up to the window. You grabbed the edges and dove in. It wasn’t until you let go of the window frame that you realized that you, unlike Carl, were falling face first instead of feet first.

Luckily, you were met with the last type of relief you expected. Carl grabbed your waist, slowing your descent enough to use your own momentum to turn you so you landed on your feet. His hands linger on your waist as you stand chest to chest with him. You look up at him through your lashes, breathing heavily. His face is red, probably from exertion.

Just before you can thank him he pulls quickly away, looking down nervously. You lower your head into his line of sight so that he makes eye contact with you.

“Thank you,” you say with a smile.

He nods shortly before taking out his knife and heading towards a door. “This way.”

You follow him, Michonee’s old sword she had given you in hand as you follow him closely, checking your surroundings avidly. Both of you continuously glanced up at the ceiling, which creaked under the weight of anywhere from fifty to one hundred walkers.

Your shoe nudged something on the ground— a bottle of whiskey. You quickly stooped and picked it up, putting it in one of the pockets of your oversized cargos.

You make your way to the back of the building, into the section where the pills are stored.

“What are we looking for again?” You ask.

“Promethazine, it’s anti-nausea medication for throwing up. Hershel’s worried the vomit from people with the flu in town could make it more contagious.” He replies, examining bottles instead of looking at you.

With a soft frown at his bland attitude, you wander to the ‘P’ section, browsing for promethazine.

You found five prefilled prescriptions made out to various, probably now dead, people.

“Carl,” you call, holding up a handful of amber pill bottles.

“Nice one,” he says, a genuine smile on his face. The first time he’s smiled at you. It was a nice smile. You felt your face heat up as you smiled as well.

Carl turned around for you to put the meds in his backpack. You brush his hair out of the way and he whips his head around immediately.

“W-what’re you doing back there?”

“Making sure your hair doesn’t get caught in the zipper,” you reply simply.

He relaxes as you unzip the bag and place the medications inside.

Just as you were zipping the beg, a loud creaking sound resounded from the ceiling. Carl and you glanced at each other with wide eyes.

“This way,” he commanded, taking your hand and leading — practically dragging — you through the pharmacy. The thumping on the roof was becoming more prominent and you could hear gunshots from outside.

You were practically running now as the sounds became nearly overwhelming. You were near the doctor's office section of the building when the ceiling began to give.

“Shit,” you muttered as the ceiling tiles began to fall.

Carl’s hand was on your waist again, this time snatching you out of the way of something falling— a walker, collapsed on the ground where you had just been standing.

Everything was happening so fast, and next thing you knew the ground was littered with walkers, all focused on the two of you. Your sword could only do so much as you slashed at the hoard, managing to take out two in one blow as you attempted to keep them at bay.

When Carl’s hands were on your waist again this time you didn’t question it— he snatched you backwards and into a room, where he slammed the door closed and locked it.

It was a check up office; it contained white brick walls and linoleum tile. In the corner was an oak desk with a monitor and sanitary supplies stacked on it. There was a cot against the opposite wall and various equipment hanging from the walls.

The thudding at the door where Carl stood jarred you back to reality, spurring you to grab the desk and shove at it. It had to be at least four hundred pounds. Carl pulled from the other side and together you managed to use it to barricade the door. He collapsed against the cot, panting.

You joined him, holding up your hands in a calming gesture as he looked at you with a shaky, nervous expression.

“Well, shit,” he muttered with an ironic chuckle.

“Probably gonna be in here for a while,” you sighed.

“Yeah,” he muttered bitterly.

Why don’t you like me?

The words almost came out of your mouth, but it wasn’t the right time. Instead you just looked at him, with a resigned expression.

You take the whiskey from your pocket and open it, taking a swig. After drinking with Daryl it didn’t phase you too much anymore, but he stared at you with a shocked expression, cheeks dusted pink.

“Where did you get that?”

“Store,” you replied simply, holding out the bottle to him.

After a moment of hesitation he took it, taking a swig with a grimace. “How do you drink that shit?” He laughs.

He laughed. A real laugh. It’s your first time hearing it. You want to hear more of it.

“Daryl,” you explain simply and he nods with a groan.

“I see,” he takes another drink and passes the bottle back to you.

It’s called liquid courage for a reason, you think. That’s all the convincing it takes for you to start chugging the bottle. You get about five swallows down before Carl’s hands, one on the bottle and one on your jaw, stop you from going further.

“Don’t overdo it,” he chides you gently.

You nod dumbly, watching a drop make its way down his neck, tracing his adam’s apple as he takes another drink. You notice the way his lips pucker around the mouth of the bottle and you force yourself to look away.

After a moment of silence he speaks again.

“Wanna play truth or dare?”

You look at him in surprise, hesitating for a moment.

“Only if you want to—” he starts nervously before you cut him off with a simple statement.

“Sure.”

He looks at you in relief, clearly afraid to have overstepped before smiling, a bit anxiously. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” you don’t hesitate; they really do call it liquid courage for a reason.

He glanced around the room before his eyes land on the stethoscope. “I dare you to give me a checkup?” He phrases it as a question so you don’t feel forced. Cute.

You grab various medical equipment, wrapping the stethoscope around your neck with a drunken grin. “I’m your doctor, I’ll be giving you your physical,” you say in your best attempt at a deep voice. You were clearly already drunk. Normally you would’ve felt stupid but with the heartwarming giggle he let out paired with an over dramatic eyeroll, you felt nothing but at ease.

As you begin measuring his heart rate he swallows hard, his pink cheeks darkening to red. His heart thumped steadily; quickly.

“Truth or dare,” you murmur as you measure his vitals.

“Uh…” he swallowed hard, eyes flickered from your hands against his chest to your face, feigning focus. “Dare.”

“Take your shirt off,” you say with an innocent grin. He blanches, surprised. “To check your vitals better. Only if you want to.” You assure him sweetly.

In a moment he was struggling to pull his shirt off, disoriented from the alcohol.

Next thing you know your hands are running down his sides to the hem of his shirt. Halfway through struggling out of his shirt he looks up at you from his sitting position, face still read and panting. You gently tug his shirt upwards, prompting him to pull his arms through the holes and you pull it over his head.

You giggle at the state of his hair, correcting it without hesitation.

“Real soft,” you muse as you gently sweep his hair out of his face. The poor boy looks overwhelmed as he stares up at you, arms wrapped around himself nervously.

You gently move the arm he has wrapped around his chest, pressing the stethoscope there once more. His heart is beating almost worryingly fast.

“You okay hon?” You ask gently.

“Mhm,” he manages, seeming to have a hard time speaking.

“Okay,” you murmur, putting the stethoscope on various places around his chest, pretending to know what you’re doing.

“Truth- uh truth or dare,” he chokes out.

“Dare,” you repeat, this time even more sure than the last.

“Can you uhm.. touch my hair again?” He wasn’t making eye contact at all now, seemingly fascinated by his jeans as he stares down, still adorned by that bright blush.

In a second your hands are in his hair. Even when you hadn’t been talking you were fascinated by his hair. Rick had caught you staring several times and always met you with a soft smile or a laugh, whereas Daryl arched his eyebrow with a slight grin.

His hair really was soft, soft as hell. You rubbed a single strand between your fingers before trailing your fingers from his roots to the ends of his hair. You secure your hands around his scalp, threading your fingers through his hair as you continue to play with it, enamored.

You hadn’t even noticed his face, eyes closed, mouth open, breathing deeply.

You lean in closer and murmur by his ear. “Truth or dare.”

His eyes flicker open and he breathes for a moment. “Truth.”

“Why do you avoid me back at camp?” He froze.

“I-I don’t,” he lied, resulting in a small tug to his hair. He draws in a sharp breath, looking up at you surprised.

“Don’t lie,” you chide.

“You make me nervous,” he admitted after a moment of silence. “People usually don’t make me nervous, but you do.” He was once again apparently entranced by his jeans so you cup his jaw gently, bringing his gaze up to meet your own.

“I like making you nervous. But not all the time. I like talking to you, Carl,” you explain in a soft voice.

He looks up at you with a genuine involuntary smile.

“Really?” He breathes.

“Yes,” you whisper, realizing how much closer you had gotten, your hand still settled on his jaw.

“Um… truth or dare?”

“Dare,” you repeat, adamant on forcing him out of his comfort zone.

“Is it okay if I— can I please, uhm—“

“Do whatever you want, Carl,” you interrupt him. “I trust you.”

His eyes widen at that and he finally rises to his feet. A familiar feeling. His hands on your waist. His grasp is awkward this time, less sure of himself when he’s not saving your life. When it’s a choice to be touching you.

He tugs you a bit closer and his eyes flicker to your lips. You know what he’s trying to do and you know he’s scared to do it.

Your hands are still in his hair and you use that to your advantage, pulling him towards you and letting him close the distance, giving you a hesitant kiss. His lips are a little chapped, but they’re plush and soft. He tastes like whiskey, and you’re sure you do too. He’s inexperienced; this might be his first kiss, you realize.

You follow that kiss with another chaste one pressed against his lips ever so gently.

“Feel good?” You murmur, forehead resting against his with your eyes closed.

“Mhm,” he hums, barely audible as he lets out another shakey breath. You know his eyes are closed too.

You’re both reveling. In each other's presence. Just breathing each other in as his arms move to loosely wrap around your waist instead of simply placing his hands there.

There it is. That’s right.

His hands on your waist were sweet but his arms encircling your waist was just right.

You pull him in for another slow kiss, heads tilted, mouth moving and prompting his to do the same, teaching him as best you could without saying a word.

“Wow,” he gasps against your lips. You try to give him a chance to explain his exclamation by pulling away, but he pulls you back in.

You slide your tongue over his bottom lip, hoping for him to part his lips a bit more and in response he gives your tongue a light suck, pulling it into his mouth and letting out a soft whine as he does.

Your kiss evolves in passion as his hand starts traveling over your body. It slides up your waist and onto your ribs, just shy of your boob. The other stays securely wrapped around your waist as though he’s attempting to anchor you to him.

As much as you adore the feeling of his lips, you pull away. His brow furrows, eyes still shut as he leans forward for another kiss, his lips chasing yours with a small sound of displeasure after you pull away.

You tug his hair, gently prompting him to tilt his head to the side to give you access to his neck. You start by pressing soft kisses there, a trail from his jaw to the base of his neck, before retracing your steps with parted lips, allowing yourself to taste the sweet musky skin of his neck.

He lets out a choked whimper before covering his mouth with his hand. Not on your watch. You immediately grab his hand, pulling it down to your tit. He lets out a shakey gasp as he grasps at the soft flesh, groaning softly as he squeezes experimentally.

“Thank you..” he murmurs, eyes still screwed shut.

“Of course sweetheart,” you smile against his neck. He shivers at the nickname, giving you a minor power trip.

You begin sucking the flesh of his neck into your mouth where you begin biting gradually before biting harder to leave dark marks. You leave one by his jaw before remembering Rick, and what his reaction would be. You press a quick kiss to the mark before shoving him down on the cushioned exam cot, straddling him.

That’s when you notice the tent in his pants. He glances down at the point where your crotches met, biting his lip nervously. “S-sorry—” he started.

“Don’t be,” you assure him, leaning down to begin littering his chest with kisses.

You start the marks by his collarbone, before moving down to his chest. He was whimpering without restraint now, back arched.

His hand was moving up your body, down your arm, and to your hand. He held your hand, giving it a soft squeeze before simply holding your hand.

“Can I.. can I have—” he cut himself off with a small whimper before you stopped your ministrations.

“Use your words sweetheart.”

He groans slightly at that. “Can I— I wanna kiss.” He squeezes your hand again.

You lean up and meet him halfway with a soft kiss. He’s better now. He’s more prepared. You run your tongue along his bottom lip and he gladly parts them, granting you entry. He opens his mouth a bit too wide, but you don’t mind. You pull back slightly, pulling away and following it with a chaste, soft kiss before continuing where you left off– his chest.

You continue sucking dark hickies along his chest, leaving a trail of bites and kisses down to his belly. A faint covering of dark hairs spreads from just about his belly button, trailing down to below the band of his jeans.

You let out a soft sigh of desire, lightly caressing his happy trail with the tip of your fingers. He shudders softly and you watch his cock twitch through his jeans. He begins to apologize again, cutting himself off with a soft groan when you plant a firm kiss to where his happy trail disappears under his jeans.

You tug softly at the button on his jeans. “Can I?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes.

He blinks in shock, looking down at you with wide eyes and a flushed face, mouth agape. “A-are you sure?”

“Yes,” you chuckle.

He responds with a small nod, still clearly shocked. You make quick work of undoing his pants, tugging them down before looking up at him with a small nod, prompting him to climb to his feet and shed his pants, quickly clambering back onto the bench. You swing your leg over the base of his thighs, straddling them.

You’re quick to feel him up, groping at his straining cock.

Freeing his cock you glance up at him in surprise, He’s packing. Six, maybe seven inches, not too wide – you could probably fit your hand perfectly around it – with a pretty pink tip, practically dripping precum. You test your earlier theory by experimentally wrapping your hand around his cock, eliciting a whine from him.

He swallows hard before looking down at you. “Are you s-sure? You’re comfortable?”

You nod. “I want to do this for you sweet boy.”

He smiles softly, letting his head fall back and his eyes flutter shut. “Thank you,” he sighs happily.

You lean down and kiss the head of his cock, causing him to jolt slightly. After lapping at the slit of his cock you take the head into your mouth. He gasps, bucking his hips.

Without warning you grab him by the hips and force him back against the cot which draws another whimper out of him as he pathetically attempts to squirm his hips closer to your mouth. You tut your tongue and pull away until he stops moving.

“Please,” he whines, struggling.

You decide to grant mercy on the poor boy, taking his head into your mouth once again. One arm forcing his hips against the table, you wrap the other hand around his cock and gently squeeze. He sighs happily, breath hitching as you begin moving your hand. Rotating it gradually as you move your hand up and down, you allow some of your saliva to drip from the head of his cock into your hand.

You use it as lubricant to begin pumping your hand up and down his cock faster, limp wristed as you continue lapping at the head of his cock. He arches his back more and whines.

Just as you begin taking more of his cock into your mouth his hand flies to the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair before squeezing, clearly doing his best to hold back from pulling your hair too hard.

“Mmh..” he moans softly, gripping at your hair firmly and applying slight pressure.

Suddenly you take as much as possible into your mouth, deepthroating him without warning. He lets out a sharp moan, gripping your hair tighter before releasing his grip in a slight panic as he realizes what he’s doing– it’s cute how hard he’s trying to hold back.

You use your tongue mostly, swirling it around his cock to the best of your ability as you begin bobbing your head up and down. You use one hand to massage his hard balls, ready to burst already. With that you remember that he’s a virgin, and you probably shouldn’t be teasing him so much.

This whole time he’s been making the most lewd noises, moaning and letting out small whimpers to the rhythm of you bobbing your head. His cock twitches in your mouth, prompting you to go faster to help him through.

You release his hips and meet his eyes when he gives you a confused glance, silently giving him permission. Experimentally, he bucks his hips, moaning before falling into a steady rhythm, his hips rising and falling shakily against your mouth.

He grips your hair even tighter, bringing tears to your eyes as you gag on his cock. After less than ten seconds he releases his load down your throat. Despite your attempts to swallow it dribbles out of your mouth and down his cock.

The low groan he had released had tapered off into a moan, sighing as he finally collapsed from his high. As he lays there, chest heaving, you slowly climb on top of him, collapsing there and cuddling into him.

He turns and kisses the top of your head, his wide smile unknown to you.

“I think I’m less nervous around you now,” he murmurs into your hair.

You smile softly as he places his hand on your waist once again. “Good,”

Thank god for liquid courage.

They cleared the pharmacy of walkers eventually, and by the time they reached you the two of you were cleaned up.

You came out swinging, having to run to the truck.

The two of you ended up so battered and bruised Rick didn’t even think to mention the bruise at the base of Carl’s jaw, and the one on his collarbone, just visible when he wore tank tops.

You saved the whiskey for next time.

#carl grimes #carl #carl x reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes smut #carl x enid #carl grimes x y/n #carl x y/n #carl grimes x you #carl x you #twd #the walking dead

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dilemmaontwolegs · 5 months

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Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {3}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: You get a glimpse into the future with Charles and Lando as fathers. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fluff WC: 1.5k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four

You collapsed breathless on top of Charles and let your eyes fall shut as the heat inside the SUV soared. Steam fogged the windows and the sounds of your boyfriends panting filled the small space.

Lando hummed as he sat back on his knees and watched his release, and Charles’, leak out from you. “Missed this pretty mess you make when we fill you up.”

“Putain, oui,” Charles agreed with a deeply satisfied chuckle. “Feels amazing.”

They were absolutely right, it did feel amazing - especially when it had been almost a week since you last had sex. It was almost a record, and not one you wanted to break anytime soon.

“We should head back,” you said despite wanting to stay exactly as you were. “We should also buy something so it actually looks like we went out.”

“Pretty sure your mum knows how much you hate shopping, and do you really want to risk being spotted?”

Lando made a fair point and you climbed off Charles so you could pull your panties back up and push your dress back down. Max’s plane would be tracked to the local airport so soon everyone would know where you were hiding. You would rather savour the peace and quiet before the paparazzi started to haunt you.

Once you got to Austin there would be no place to hide.

Sitting in the backyard of the pub, you watched the sun set over the countryside backdrop with bittersweet happiness. Luka was squealing with joy as Charles tossed him high into the air and Lando was sprawled on the grass with Lio and Mila clambering over him. It was like a little glimpse into the future you would have all too soon, but it still didn’t feel real.

“What are you doing, hiding in the corner?” Max took a seat beside you on the bench and scanned the groups that had broken off from the crowd. You could smell the gin in his drink and took a sip of your lemonade as you longed for your usual drink. It didn’t help Lando had ordered you Sprite No Sugar, you weren’t even allowed that anymore.

“Just thinking.”

“I tried that once, but it didn’t work out well for me,” he joked, nudging you with his shoulder when he didn’t get a response. “What are you thinking about?”

You sighed and shifted to face him. “Were you scared you were going to mess up Penelope?”

“No,” he scoffed.

“Right, because you are good at everything,” you nodded solemnly. “Stupid question.”

“No, it’s because I’m not her father, and I’m not trying to be her father because she already has one. So it is not the same.” Max looked to where Lando and Charles had moved onto dancing with the kids. It probably wasn’t quite dancing, but they were all hugging each other and gently swaying to the music. “You three are going to be fine. You’ve got the responsible parent, the fun one and the worrier.”

“I don’t really want to know who you think is who,” you chuckled, feeling a little better. But another thought had plagued you and there was only one person you could admit it to without fear of judgement. “This is going to sound terrible, but I wish she was a boy.”

Max’s brows shot up his face. “Why?”

You toyed with the condensation running down your glass, drawing little pictures as you spoke. “What if she wants to race? It’s in her blood but this industry is tough on girls, Max. I don’t want her going through the same bullshit I had to.”

“You’re worrying about something that is at least 15 years away, zusje. A lot can change in that time. Plus, she will have you, her fathers and a scary uncle who have been there to make sure she gets treated right.”

You looked across at the young man struggling to understand the horse-riding terms Flo was talking about. “Arthur’s not that scary.”

You laughed at the indignant sound Max made. “Okay, you’re right, you’re right. I don’t need to worry about that now. I just need to get through the rest of the season watching someone else race my car.”

“Checo’s contract is up next year, maybe Red Bull will beg you to come back?”

Your laughter caught the attention of your boyfriends and they smiled at the sound before making their way over. “Yeah, that ain’t happening, they can beg all they want - I would rather be seatless.”

Max turned serious. “They saw your data, you know, when you used my sim. It was the best time anyone has pulled from the car. It was impressive as hell.”

“Well if you want personal driving lessons I am happy to assist. I’ll even give you a family discount.”

Max snickered in amusement as the seats opposite the bench were taken. “Now that you are once again unemployed.”

“Don’t let her mother hear you say that,” Lando warned, only half joking. “She’s not unemployed.”

“Yeah,” you placed a hand on your stomach. “I have the best job in the world now as a human incubator. Me and Vick can be ladies of leisure together.”

“She prefers the term influencer,” Max corrected sarcastically.

“What’s the difference?” Charles asked.

“There isn’t any. Now will you come and dance?”

You accepted Lando’s hand and followed him to the outdoor lights that had been turned on.

“Nutty!” Mila called as she ambled towards you with grabby hands.

“So close, sweetie,” you laughed as you dropped Lando’s hand to pick her up. “Aunty. Aunt-tee.”

“Nutty is kind of accurate,” Max teased as he walked past to where Kelly was talking with Vicky. He did pause for a second as he watched you spin around with Mila and blow a raspberry onto her neck making the toddler giggle. “Zusje, you’re gonna be fine.”

You looked up over the top of her curls that were only a few shades lighter than Lando’s and found sincerity in your brother's eyes. “Thanks, Max.”

A pair of arms encircled you and Charles’ chin came to rest on your shoulder. “My dance partner has been stolen.”

Lando spun past with Penelope in his arms and you kissed Charles’ cheek. “Mila, look at Dodo, he thinks he’s a better dancer than us.”

She narrowed her eyes at her uncle dancing with the four year old and her brows furrowed before she squirmed to be put down. “Oops, I think someone is a little jealous,” Charles chuckled, pulling you into his arms while you watched with amusement as she made Lando pick her up too. “Should we save him?”

“Nah, he’ll need to learn how to deal with two females soon enough.” You placed your head on Charles’ shoulder and followed his lead, swaying gently to the music that probably demanded more energy.

“You seem happier,” he commented softly.

“It’s amazing what a little sex in a secluded forest can do for the soul.”

Charles laughed and kissed your forehead, his smile etched on your skin. “Chérie, what we did could hardly be called ‘little’ but even afterwards you still weren’t…I don’t know what the word is…you seem more like yourself.”

You smiled a little as he stumbled over the words. “I’m getting there.”

“I know you will.” He gave up the pretence of dancing and just held you as Lando extracted himself from the girls and they ran off to their mothers before making his way to join you. “We will make sure of it.”

Lando’s warm body pressed against your back and his arms wrapped around you to hold Charles’ hips. “So I was thinking of names…Tulip.”

“Um, no.”

“Hear me out, it’s kind if Dutch and it’s a flower which is pretty cool-”

“Non, mon cher, keep thinking.”

“Daisy?”

You shook your head and he groaned as he was shut down again. “Daphne?”

It was your turn to groan. “No more Bridgerton for you.”

“Clover?”

You paused and his grin widened. “I’m not opposed to that one, but keep brainstorming.”

“How about Juniper?”

“Daddy, where does my name come from?” you asked in a higher pitched voice as you wrinkled your nose.”Well mummy drank lots and lots of Gin one night and that is how you were made.”

“Oh, right,” Lando laughed awkwardly. “I forgot it’s in Gin.”

“It is a good thing we have time,” Charles hummed, holding you both tighter. “There’s no rush finding the perfect name.”

Lando conceded for the moment and fell silent, and you felt content to stay cocooned until your stomach rumbled louder than the music. Your warmth disappeared as they stepped away laughing. “Come on, love. Dinner should be ready.”

Click here for the next part.

#lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris imagine #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction

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xcrust · 6 months

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The beginning

“How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations.”

They said he was beautiful. The image that God had put all his values.

“Your heart became proud on account of your beauty, and you corrupted your wisdom because of your splendor.”

Knowledge, strength, and status that he started to yearn for the honor and glory that belonged to only God. He was God's favorite son and the second of the four archangels he made. The highest of gods creations. But then came the existence of humanity which challenged the place of where he stands. Being told to bow down towards the weak.

This Angel refused both out of jealousy and wounded pride over being commanded to bow to what he saw as a broken, flawed, and murderous species and no longer feeling he was God's favorite creation.

He is the first fallen angel as well as an archangel who has fallen. He is the first king of Hell and the one who created demons; they regard him as their father and god. The fallen angel had created the known thing called sin. -------------

Despite the fact that this angel hated the way humanity acts he was the closest thing towards what humanity represents. People are flawed and imperfect, as much as he was compared to be the epitome of the heavens. It is shown that even if you are perfect on the outside it can be so easy to be corrupted by the seven deadly sins.

The betrayal that God gave him had been the reason that he grew to be bitter to all life on earth. So since he still had the power of the angels he was more than happy to take out the mortals that stepped into his underworld. So it created the Prince of Pride

Lucifer Magne

…

Thump, thump, thump

Two children ran around a plush room. No thoughts are present other than the joy and warmth that they are feeling in that moment. The phrase two peas in a pod could be a massive understatement. The likeness of these children could be comparable to the gods. However, that is to be expected especially since they were literally two connections away. "Charlie! shhh! we might get caught!" a weak voice exclaimed while running.

"Don't even worry about it. Everyone is out for the day. We have all of eternity for ourselves." The older one of the two laughed out while running out of the room. The current goal of the kids was to get to the library. Specifically a section that was extremely forbidden to the two. There was a specific book that described life on earth that described what humanity was truly about. Something that their father truly frowned upon in all ways possible. On that note, who were these two curious children? Why did the father so deeply frown upon this text?

Why, dear traveler, this is the story of the descendants of the mighty couple of hell. Lucifer and Lilith Magne. The eldest child being such a peppy child. Embracing compassion and empathy towards all those that are around her. However, almost holding a more idealist way of guiding her through life. Her name is Charlie Morningstar. Meanwhile, the younger counterpart held a more stressed and practical view on life. Y/n was a pessimistic child but that's what you have to grow into when the only ones that you have look at life with rose colored glasses. "woah this place is so big" "Well no duh, it took us like 10 minutes to get to the library annnnnnnd we are in the same building" the youngest breathed out while still trying to catch up. As they got deeper into the large room it seemed that time stopped. There were so many books dedicated to life and death. Different things ranging to the mighty Ars Goetia to the imps of the lower lands.

"Come on! I want to see what is here!" So it continued running around to discover what the world had to offer. This book was created by the people of earth on others around the world. It was hours that were spent in there trying to look for the book only for them to both fall onto some seats in the corner of a room. A long dramatic sigh came out of the youngest followed by a yawn. Both clearly done with looking any longer. Seconds later sounds of steps inside the library were heard.

"Shit." The siblings jumped up and looked at each other. "Y/n, be prepared to hide or run as far from this room as possible?" Charlie whispered out. Meanwhile the thumps of steps were getting louder by the second. The only response that she got was a panicked look given by the younger half.

thump. tHump. Thump.

"Now what do we have here?" a large voice boomed through. thump. thump. thump. "Seems that perfection has fallen into the wrong place." Lucifer emerged from the corner of the book shelf. If it were any other moment the siblings would be delighted to hear the pet name. However, now both were frozen looking up at their father. "Charlie? you know what I said about this area." Slowly his gaze loomed over her. "We already let you stray too far; we don't need to be corrupting Y/n onto the wrong path now do we?" A silent hiss came from her mouth hearing that. In Y/n's view, they were stressed. No words came out anyways. This has happened time and time again. Charlie and Y/n would go out, do something for fun. Something new. Get reprimanded once or twice. Although, before it was always light hearted compared to now. The king of hell was contained in pure rage considering the circumstances. "yeah... sorry" "sorry? is that seriously all you have to say to this? I never want to see you here ever again." a pause with silence so incredibly tense was presented. "Go to your rooms" In a flash, the three found themselves in their own respective rooms. It's the easiest to guess that the two now alone were sat distraught because they never experienced such a reaction from their dad. Y/n got up from sitting on the floor of their room to the desk to see a new note on the desk by the door.

Y/n. You are in closest resemblance to the so-called people of the earth. Beauty incarnate. Perfection. Sympathy to the scum of humanity isn't needed.

Even as a young kid, they could tell that what was written on that note was utter bullshit. From early years in life they gave up on taking information from their so-called guardians. Lilith and Lucifer were completely in love with each other. The only thing that they loved more than each other was themselves. Any takes that they had was never taken seriously when the only person Y/n ever looked up to was Charlie. Their older sister. Seeing how much disdain that she gave their parents gave a tremendous amount of joy. If anything that is only further proof that Y/n is not what perfection is and in fact encourages the sin that Lucifer hates so much.

#hazbin hotel #helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #charlie magne #lilith magne #lucifer magne #stolas x reader

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basilf1res · 1 year

Text

Memento Mori - DPxDC

What was beyond death. Was there anything at all? Was there nothing?

That was what he always wondered.

When Clark was a child, he looked up to his fictional hero: Danny Phantom. A half-dead guy in a comic book series that led to the most bisexual awakenings in the century.

Clark liked to go back and reread the comic books from Issue #1 (they were fairly short, but all parts of an “episode”, almost like those ads on shows, but the wait time was every two weeks). He tended to read them all in one sitting, and yet oddly enough, never disturbed as he murmured the made-up summoning spell under his breath.

He could’ve sworn he had been going through them for over an hour and not twenty minutes.

It was Phantom who inspired him to continue being Superman in his darkest moments. He also considered himself physical proof that Danny’s palette swap was enough to hide his identity.

The glasses ARE enough.

When Clark found out he had a clone, he was ecstatic to be able to teach Conner anything everything, to answer any questions his little brother had.

Danielle “Dani” Phantom and her awaited return in “Issue #46 D-stabilized” caused him to become a mama bear to Conner out of the fear he would melt within a few weeks. But it wasn’t like anyone at the Watchtower had to know that small detail.

Getting married to Lois was the best day of his life, the day of Jon’s birth also fighting for that first place spot in his mind.

He had a clone brother, a wonderful wife, a beautiful son, and an amazing group of friends that work together to protect the planet he calls home.

But everything started to fall apart when a protest against metas took it too far, Jon’s powers started to develop and he was seen accidentally tripping, falling, and catching himself by hovering a few inches above the pavement.

Jon said he considered himself lucky nothing scarred. He laughed everything off when it came to the topic.

But it shook Clark, Lois, and Conner to the core.

Memento mori.

It reminded Superman that despite his impenetrable skin, Death can come at any moment. Even for him.

—————————

When Danny was a little boy, he dreamt of reaching the stars, he wanted to be able to touch the moon, explore Mars, and roam the galaxy he resides in and beyond.

He read these comic books of a league of heroes, a team with space cops, super powered humans, a man dressed in a bat suit that was more effective at capturing rogues and villains than some of the powered members, aliens, and so much more.

He flipped through the weekly published comics, learning to read better than most at a young age. He had two favorites, Superman and Martian Manhunter.

Danny wanted to explore the stars like his heroes. He wanted to be able to fight as well as the big Bat. He wanted superpowers. He wanted to help people. He wanted to fight his own set of supervillains. He wanted to be able to succeed and be loved.

Oh how he got everything he wanted but the last.

Tucker and Sam were the only reason he hadn’t broken yet, the reason he was still standing.

The anti-ecto acts, the GIW, Vlad, Pariah Dark, and his- Jack and Maddie’s sadistic comments about ghosts were the last straw.

The hero always wins… they don’t die to the evil they want to stop… right..?

Right..?

…

The sound of a scraping scalpel, the buzz of the lights, and the squeals of pleasure - as his ghostly heart was found again and again and prodded again and again - filled his ears for an unknown length of time.

His cries for help were never answered until a summoning pulled at his core, it was a personal calling, someone had managed to find his calling card.

The tears of relief stung his eyes as the dissection table with his body strapped down to it was sucked into a summons portal.

He was spat out in front of kids, most likely teenagers, due to the shrieks of horror and surprise.

Oh… oh how he prayed to the Ancients that he’d live to see another day as a tears slipped out of his eyes.

Memento mori.

——————————

Jon found out about his comic book collection and wanted to show Damian.

Clark hummed as he typed up an official report on a rogue attack to send to the Watchtower.

His blood ran cold when he heard his son scream from over in Gotham.

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demxters · 6 months

Note

☆ for blurb night requests; Ace's parents promising to visit for some reason and then standing her up, so Jake rallies their friends for a day of activities and just hanging out, to get her mind off it

frat!jake seresin x f!reader

wc: 1.5k

warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace), family abandoment, absence of parental figures, angst

catch up with jake and ace here!

a/n: i could write about them forever (and i will)

»»————- ♠︎ ————-««

Jake’s eyes light up at the sound of your ringtone going off on his phone. He wasn’t expecting you to call today because you were meeting with your parents for lunch. Despite his initial surprise, he picks up, just in case something was wrong. “Hey, baby,” he greets with a small smile on his face.

The sound of a sniffle reaches his ear causing his smile to fall. His heart drops, knowing you were crying on the other end. “Ace?”

Another sniff leaves the speaker. “Can you come get me, please?”

Just by the sound of your voice, he knows you’re about to break. Jake doesn’t even hesitate to slip on his shoes and run to grab his keys at your words. “Of course, sweetheart. Is everything okay? Are you safe?”

You hum in response, your silence causing Jake to worry even more.

“Baby?” Jake asks again, prompting a word of response from you to ease his racing mind.

“I’m okay, Jake, just need you.” Your voice is muffled, but he hears you loud and clear.

It feels like his heart is being squeezed in a fist. He wishes there was more he could do, but for now he had to get to you first. “Just stay put and I’ll be right there.”

He thanks God for hitting all the green lights on the way to the restaurant. As he pulls into the parking lot, he sees you sitting on the curb in your pretty dress and make up all smudged around your eyes. Even in your disheveled appearance, you still looked as beautiful as ever. Jake puts the truck in park and haphazardly throws his door open, hurrying out to make his way to you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes, seeing your eyes filled with a new round of tears. Within seconds he’s crouched in front of you and pulling you into his arms. He presses your face into the crook of his neck and soothingly rubs gentle circles onto your lower back. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m here, I’ve got you.”

That seems to set you off even more. Another broken sob leaves your lips making Jake’s chest tighten at the sound. He desperately wanted to ask what had happened. He wanted to know where your parents were or what they said to you again to make you this upset. He has never met them, only knowing them through the sporadic phone calls you received from them and the tears you’ve shed because of them. He didn’t know them, but he knew that they weren’t the best of parents. Jake found himself afraid of what you were going to say and with good reason. But he knows you need your space and that you’ll tell him in your own time.

He had made the mistake once of pressuring you into speaking to him when you weren’t ready to and he never wanted to make you that angry again.

So instead he opts to help you get settled into the truck with your seat belt snuggly across your waist and begins the drive back to your apartment.

Jake glances at you from the driver’s seat every now and then, just in case you broke down again. He could see the storm brewing in your eyes as you stared out the window, resting your chin on your fist and your forehead on the glass.

He rhythmically taps his thumbs along to the beat of the Fleetwood Mac song that’s playing from his radio to try to calm his nerves. Which he knew was silly of him, considering you were the one in an emotional turmoil right now.

He had hardly driven two miles when you finally spoke up and Jake is surprised that you spoke so soon.

“They didn’t show,” you confess softly.

Jake turns off the radio as soon as he hears you speak. He gives you a moment to collect your thoughts, taking your free hand that sits in your lap and grasps it tightly in his. When you don’t pull away, he pulls your interlocked hands into his lap.

“There was no text, no call, nothing. I just sat there like an idiot, waiting for them to show up!” You raise your voice, the pity you felt for yourself turning into hot anger. “I was there for thirty minutes before the waitress asked me to leave because they had other reservations. I mean geez, Jake, how could I be so stupid?”

“You’re not stupid, Ace.”

You scoff, shaking your head with disappointment. “Naive, then. How could I have been so naive to think they were actually going to keep their promise and show up this time?”

He didn’t have an answer to that question. He knew you weren’t looking for one but he wanted to be able to say something to make you feel better. Instead he presses a kiss to your knuckles and rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, hoping his actions could convey some comfort.

You didn’t say another word after your little outburst, even when you got to the apartment. You just gave him a kiss on the cheek in thanks before disappearing into your room. Jake sat on the couch, folding his hands over his lap and patiently waited for you to come out. When he heard the shower start to run, he knew you wouldn’t be coming out any time soon.

Thinking about how sad and defeated you looked when he went to pick you up broke his heart. It made him realize that all you really wanted was to spend time with your family. Jake wished he could give you everything you ever wanted.

Jake’s phone chimes and he pulls it from his back pocket to see the Daggers group chat going off. Lightning struck him then as he urgently opened his phone.

Your family is what you wanted and Jake knew exactly how to give it to you.

_______________

The sound of Jurassic Park was playing softly from the living room as you stepped outside of your room. You weren’t expecting anyone to be home other than you and Jake, so you cautiously creeped out to the hall.

There, the sounds from the living room get louder and you’re able to make out your friends’ voices. Rounding the corner, you see Nat, Javy, Bob, Reuben, Mickey, and Bradley all sprawled out across the room. Each of them talking over one another as if in the middle of an important debate. In the mix of them all, you see Jake sitting on the love seat with a spot specifically reserved for you. When he sees you, his eyes light up and he beckons you over with an open arm.

“Ace, come help us settle this once and for all.” He smiles widely at you, tucking you into the space beside him.

You instinctively snuggle into him, smiling bashfully at your friends who have been alerted to your presence.

“Which is better, the Park or World movies?”

All eyes are on you, awaiting your answer. “Jurassic Park. Obviously.” The room erupts into chaos once more, everyone’s chatter overlapping one another.

You laugh, watching as they continue to go off on one another.

The heavy weight on your shoulders is gone in an instant and you remember the reason for your low mood in the first place. You had canceled movie night to have dinner with your parents. You told everyone they could do their own thing today, so you were wondering why they were all here.

It was until you looked up at the blond whose arm was wound tightly around your middle as he leaned his cheek against the top of your head. A rush of warmth floods your veins upon realizing that all of this was his doing. You’re overwhelmed by his love and thoughtfulness, so much so that you think you might just cry again. You would never get used to being loved by Jake Seresin.

Instead, you wrap yourself around his middle, muttering softly into his neck, “You didn’t have to do all this for me.”

Jake looks down. “Of course I did. You were missing your family, so I thought why don’t I bring them to you?”

Your family. They weren’t the people who birthed and raised you. They weren’t the people you were related to by blood. They weren’t traditional in any sense that a family would be. However, Jake was right. They were yours.

Not once has your parents shown you an ounce of care and attention that the group in front of you did.

Not once did they take you out for important milestones or to celebrate your birthday like Natasha did.

Not once did they remember your favorite movie like Mickey did, or remember your favorite book like Bob.

Not once did they take you out for important milestones or to celebrate your birthday like Reuben, Bradley, and Javy.

Not once did they know every little thing about you like Jake did.

Not once did they love you like this group did.

They were never your family to begin with. These people, however, the ones who dropped everything just to help cheer you up today, were. And they always would be.

tgm taglist: @joaquinwhorres @harrycherrylove @smoothdogsgirl @t-nd-rfoot @dempy @ollyoxenfrees @averyhotchner @2guysonascooter @loveforaugust @blue-aconite @fandom-life-12 @stiles-banshees @iamdannyday @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @breezemood @eli2447 @angelbabyange @finelytaylored @pono-pura-vida @hecate-steps-on-me @blueoorchid @aviatorobsessed @blackwidownat2814 @hallecarey1 @averagereader35 @laneylovesglen @atarmychick007 @kajjaka @urfavelocagirl @clancycumber230 @memeorydotcom @kmc1989 @percysaidnever @thestarspangledcaptain @wkndwlff @shanimallina87 @dracosluvbot

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x f!reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #hangman x reader #hangman x f!reader #hangman x y/n #hangman x you #college!au #frat!jake seresin x reader #hangman x ace 📚#loving you universe #demxters writing

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sweetcloverheart · 3 months

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I can't stop thinking about how upsetting it is that in MLB the "Power Of Love" only applies to the villains instead of the heroes, and for such flimsy reasons

Marinette is never allowed to truly nor fully rely on her relationship with her classmates to help with interpersonal problems because if she does, then she can't be the "super strong female protag" the show totes her as. So the show will constantly/actively discourage any cooperation or reliance on her friendships (even as it "punishes" her for failing to do so like in "Penalteam" and "Strikeback") by having it always end in failure or a worst situation, while presenting the others as too "naive and trusting" of her enemies or any adults/solutions as useless (Oh hi Su Han!) to justify it, thereby forcing her to have to tackle whatever issue she faces alone while presenting it as necessary. She's even made to lie to her partner because telling him any relevant information regarding their previous main enemy would mean removing Adrien's glued-on rose-tinteed glasses regarding his father and what an awful human being he was in his final moments of life.

Meanwhile, Gabriel can do everything short of tax fraud and always be presented as our deeply conflicted "morally grey" villain who's actually totally in the right, because everything he does can be excused because it's being done in the name of obsession love for his comatose wife. Nothing he does is worthy of persecution because in the narrative's eyes, he hasn't done anything wrong actually, since it's all for love. Emotionally abusing his son and trying to take advantage of his depressive episodes for his own goals? It's fine, it's for Emilie. Using a clearly emotionally vulnerable child and a super exploitive one for his plans and then abandoning them to the consequences? It's fine, it's for Emilie (and Chloe and Lila are She-demons, so they deserve it!/s). Harassing his son's girlfriend (through both his position and magic) to either try and get them to break up ("Protection" and "Pretension") or getting a magical servant for his own ends ("Chat Blanc")? It's fine, it's for Emilie. Leaving his friend and secretary to die from the same broken miraculous that magic coma-ed his wife? It's fine, it's for Emilie. Using his adult friends and his son's same age ones for his activities as Hawkmoth by purposely upsetting them? It's fine, it's for Emilie. Exploiting his son's image despite said son being clearly uncomfortable with it? It's fine, it's for Emilie. Instructing one of his Akumas to allow his son to fall to his potential death to confirm if he's his teenage nemesis (Edit: was incorrect about event. Have corrected)? It's for Emilie, so he's good! Locking his child in a bleach white rubber room (Unfriendly reminder that Adrien has canonical claustrophobia) because he went to visit his friends and to have him out of the way of his ultimate plan via using the previously mentioned image exploiting? Emilie, Emilie, Emilie - so long as it's for her, anything he does is golden! Even at the very end, where you have Marinette pointing out how much he made his son suffer, Gabriel does no proper reflecting or is forced to have his goal denied of him as a result - instead, he's given posthumous hero status (along with a statue and another adult villain who skipped consequences giving a speech about what a great and noble man he never was) and made directly responsible for the utopia the world became because he threw the heroine's mercy right back in her face; all because the "Power of Love" makes it so that everything he does for Emilie is moral and good, no matter how vile.

#Clover Rants Miraculously #ML Salt

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readychilledwine · 8 months

Text

Broken

Part two- Nyx and Aelia have spent the past 4 months in the Winter Court, and ever the clever son, Nyx has noticed the decline in his mother's health despite the shields and masks she wears, leading him to call in for help.

Warnings - alcohol use, indications to poor mental health and an illusion to a panic attack, the mention of child death (we all knew that'd come up between Rhys and a winter court OC), mentioned SA

Part One Part Three

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Nyx hated The Winter Court.

He hated the constant politics.

He hated the constant cold calculated looks his uncle gave him when he'd walk into a room. As if he was studying him, evaluating him, deciding what to do with him.

He hated how loud his aunt was, especially when Mor was around.

Nyx missed home. He allowed the shadow Azriel had following him to weave between his fingers before it moved to caress his cheek. It had been four months. He knew he had come willingly, made this choice willingly, but he missed his family, he missed the smell of the Sindra, he missed training with Cassian and Azriel.

To his biggest surprise, though, he missed his dad. He missed going into his dad's office, curling up on the couch as Rhysand worked, only to wake up to his head in his lap as his father drank whiskey with his uncles and they spoke quietly. He missed the feeling of his dad's constant presence in his mind, tugging when he'd start doing something he shouldn't be. He missed his voice as they would go over lessons for the 100th time to ensure Nyx was ready to take over his court.

He knew his mom missed his dad, too. He had been watching her bury herself into the Winter Court, helping his Uncle with his high lord duties. She hardly ate, slept, relaxed. She smiled constantly for the fae of the court at the countless dinners and parties being thrown, but it never reached her eyes.

She is stuck in a state of mourning. You will understand some day when you love someone and they hurt you that deeply, Kal had told Nyx gently. Nyx knew his mother loved his father, that she still did. That she would have given anything to any God willing to make a deal with her to switch places with him. He could hear her crying late at night sometimes or whispering his name when he'd sneak into her room to hold her.

They couldn't stay here, not with this gaping wound in desperate need of repair. He moved inside, sitting at the desk, and took a pen into his hand. He wrote on the parchment before using magic to send it. Then he just prayed. He prayed to the Mother that his mom would forgive him for the one sentence message.

Dad, send Uncle Az.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Rhysand was miserable.

He lifted the heavy glass to his lips, drinking the whiskey he had picked for the night in large gulps instead of soft smooth sips.

He missed his wife and son. His wife ran through his mind day and night. The scent of her soft snow hair. The feeling of her skin under his fingertips. The intoxication of her soft plush lips on his. He missed the song that was Nyx's laughter as he'd watch Cassian or Azriel spar him. He missed catching his son in the kitchens late at night, flirting with the shadow wraith twins. He missed his soft snores as he'd fall asleep in the office.

He realized quickly Feyre would never fill the void Aelia and Nyx had left him with and that they were not compatible. Feyre would have been better matched for Cassian or Lucien. A male whose ambitions weren't based on pressure, politics, and responsibility, but instead on freedom, adventure, and embetterment. A male whose job would have allowed her to travel, help fae in need, and see the world.

He was watching that silently start. The longing stares between her and Cassian. The playful banter and constant flirtation. The way Cassian was healing her through the one thing she had been begging for. Rhys sighed heavily. His brother was clearly falling for his mate, and his mate in turn was falling for Cassian. And the part that had his jaw clenching was how little he cared. He had told Cassian it was fine, to pursue her, to court her. He truly did not care.

Especially when he saw how happy they were. In the month since she'd be rescued, they were constantly together. Her curled into Cass' side, her in his room, him in hers. The two were inseparable.

The soft thud of paper landing near him, pulling him from his thoughts and making him groan and roll his eyes. He used a tendril of darkness to pull the letter to him. The handwriting sobered him immediately. He was calling for Azriel as he read it over and over.

"If I have to carry you to your room again, Rhys, I swear-"

"Nyx wants you to come to Winter." Azriel rose a singular brow, having just finished writing notes back and forth to Aelia. He read the note from the young heir before sending shadows to check on his high lady. "Azriel, please."

"She just told me she was fine, Rhys. I have the shadows checking in case she was lying. Kallias has her distracting herself with work. Viv is constantly taking her shopping. Her and Nyx are exploring-"

"No." Rhysand interrupted softly. "I can feel something is wrong, Azriel. I have been able to feel it for months now, and you and Cassian have ignored me at every turn. Go. Get. My. Son."

Azriel's jaw twitched and his eyes met Rhysands. "Is that an order, brother?" The blow landed exactly as the spymaster had intended. "What would you like me to say to my High Lady as I kidnap her child?"

Rhys squeezed his eyes shut. "He's asking for you to go the-"

"But not to be brought home," Azriel interrupted. "I will go there on his request and speak with him and Aelia. I will not force them to come home, Rhys."

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Aelia held Nyx's hand as they walked through the Mountain House. She was ignoring the steady ache in her heart by showing her son the magic of this side of his heritage. Kallias was walking ahead of them, happy to lead his nephew down the halls of their past family members and the Court leaders.

Nyx, to his credit, was taking notes, nodding to his uncle on ways Winter did truly have their taxation, barter and trade, and armies set on very successful , profitable, and mutually beneficial systems. He was asking Kal questions that had the high lord beaming with pride, and his mother smiling fondly as she listened.

It was almost enough for her to ignore the growing hole her husband had left. Rhysand haunted her. He was her dreams, her nightmares, her day fantasies. She could hear his voice in her ear, praising her as she did a task as simple as brushing her hair instead of wallowing.

She had even awoken one night from a nightmare, only to be in a dream where he was right there, shushing her gently as she whispered what she had conjured in her own mind to him. She confided in Viv one day she could hear his heartbeat in the dead of night. Viv had chalked it up to her missing him, to her mind playing tricks on her to comfort her. Aelia could have swore she woke up to the soft scent of citrus and sea fading in her room almost every morning, though.

Aelia was brought back to reality as she ran into her brother's back. Kal had gone silent and stopped walking. The high lord's shoulders grew stiff as he sniffed the air. "Did you call for Azriel?" Aelia shook her head before turning to Nyx.

Guilt was etched into his perfect face. Blue siphoned hands turned the heir, wrapping him in a tight hug as Aelia backed away to be closer to her brother. "Are you okay?" Azriel's voice was muffled by his nephew's hair. Nyx nodded quickly, hands fisting Az's armor like he was feeling safety for the first time in years.

Aelia and Azriel held eye contact, blue eyes meeting hazel. He knew she was upset by the flick of emotion that ran through the icy coloring. She wasn't allowing the sense of betrayal to set in yet. She wasn't allowing herself to hurt at her brother in law's sudden and unasked for appearance.

Kallias broke the silence of the halls. "There are laws, Shadowsinger, regarding outside court visitations. Laws your high lord pushed for. Did you forget them or does the Night Court find itself above those laws we all signed and put in place?" His tone was cold, hiding how bothered he was to have the male that stood in a place of honor next to the High Lord of Night in his home.

"I called for him," Nyx felt small with the frozen expression Kal had finally stopped wearing around him met his skin again. "I missed him." A truth and a lie, mixed together perfectly like Azriel had taught him.

Aelia looked between Kal and Azriel. A look of anger graced her brother's face, and a look of conflict was on Azriel's. "I will deal with it," she offered before attempting to move to the Illyrian. A hand shot out, grabbing her bicep and pulling her back into her older brother's chest.

"Nyx, come here," the tone of his voice was desperate. "Please. I cannot protect you if you go without him. I will explain everything lat-"

"You will fill his head with lies, you mean?" Azriel interrupted, putting Nyx behind him. "It was not him." Azriel held a scarred hand to Aelia. "Sister, come. I just need a few moments of your time."

The grip on her bicep tightened. "Aelia," her brother began softly, "Do you remember me telling you about the children slaughtered under Amarantha's orders?" Azriel growled loudly, shadows beginning to pose around his shoulders like snakes waiting to strike. "Your husband was her executioner."

The hallway became still. Nyx felt himself stop breathing, Aelia stood there in shock. Azriel closed his eyes slowly. The only noises between the four of them was the soft sound of the Lady of Night's breath becoming faster. The sound of it reaching an uneven state as she shook her head at the accusation. Her chest grew painfully tight as thousands of thoughts boomeranged.

Rhys would never, her mind screamed. He'd never. "No," she said. "No. No. No. No. No." She felt Kal lowering her to the ground before the soft pleads became full on screams. Azriel and Nyx were still, watching as she began crying. Begging Kal to tell her that he was lying.

Azriel watched silently, his grip on Nyx never faltering. "Take me home," the heir's voice was devoid of emotion. "Take me home so I can get the truth from him." Shadows surrounded the two of them as guards came and rushed to the siblings sitting on the wooden floor of the home.

The last thing Azriel saw was his high lady, a female he loved more than anything, weakly reaching her hand to him and her son with a look of fear etched into her face.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Nyx was out of Azriel's arms in seconds, prowling towards Rhysand's office where the spymaster knew he and Cassian were waiting.

The heir didn't knock, he didn't open the doors gently. He slammed them open, splintering the wood as an intense stare down started between him and his father.

"Did you do it?" The look of confusion on Rhysand's face made the heir angrier. "Did you fucking do it?!"

Cassian stood, moving to his nephew and trying to calm him in whispered sentences. "Nyx, he can't give you answers if he doesn't know what he's answering."

Nyx shrugged out of Cassian's grasp. "Did you kill the children in the Winter Court?" Rhysand sighed heavily, sitting back down in his chair and motioning for his son to sit. "I will stand if it's all the same to you, High Lord."

A visible flinch graced Rhysand's normally stone face. "No, I did not harm them. I had no part in that. Please sit down so I can explain my side of things."

Nyx shook his head. "So she had another one of your kind down there?" He said it like it was a slur, like his father had a disease. "Or you just sat there licking her cunt while she used your powers-"

The High lord stood, hand slamming down on the desk as the room grew cold and dark. It was a reminder to Nyx of his father's power, of the command and control Rhysand could quickly take over a room. "I had NO PART in what that bitch did, Nyx. I was trapped in her bed like I was no more than a toy to her, and the only reason I ever entered her bed was to protect you and your mother." His voice broke, anger and frustration turning into heartbreak and grief. "I only ever wanted to protect my family."

Nyx had never witnessed his father crying. His mother? Yes. The soft daughter of Winter cried frequently with her son present. She'd cry in sadness, anger, stress. She'd cry when she was overwhelmed by joy and love. Seeing his father now, tears welling his eyes, hands shaking as he tried to hold in and control his emotions, had Nyx standing in place with his eyes wide. "Everything I did, I did because I love you, Nyx. Because I love your mother. Because I love Cassian, Azriel, Amren, and Mor. I did it because I love this Court, our home."

Rhys looked up, taking a few deep breaths before he continued. "I never would have harmed a child, Nyx. Because if I had, I would have only pictured you. I would have sooner fed myself to whatever beasts Amarantha would have allowed me to than harm a child when you were all I thought about every day down there. The guilt of not being able to stop what happened eats me alive every day. I think about those families every day, and how that could have been you."

Nyx took a tentative step towards his dad. "Dad-"

"If you do not believe me it's fine. But do not sit there and act like I was not as trapped as everyone else was. Do not sit there and ac-"

"Daddy, I believe you." That simple sentence. Those 4 words. That was all it took for Rhys and Nyx to meet the distance between each other, embracing tightly and the father and son cried together. "I believe you." He whispered again. "I want to be home. With you. With momma."

Rhys pulled away nodding before kissing his son's forehead. "I want that too, Nyx. I want you two home more than I can put into words." Rhys wiped tears from his son's face, studying it as if he was looking into a mirror. "We will get there, little star."

"Don't give up on momma, please." The break in Nyx's voice caused a phantom tug to come from a string Rhysand only wished was attached to his heart.

He pulled Nyx back to him, hand finding the back of his son's raven curls. "Never. I will never give up on her, on you, or on us." Nyx felt his eyes flutter shut, breathing in his father's scent deeply. "You two are all I've ever wanted, all I ever dreamed about. I will wait a thousand years if that's what it takes for her to come home to me."

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Aelia woke up in a dark room, the windows open and curtains drawn to allow her to watch the fresh snow falling gently and reflecting the lights below like glitter.

She was completely alone, at least she thought, as she stood and walked to the vanity on unstable legs. She brushed her hair quickly, undoing the braids the healers had not, and removed the soft makeup she had worn to countless meetings that day.

The sparkling blue gown had grown heavy on her frame, and she stood again, walking to grab something more comfortable to sleep in.

She was numb. She felt like she had bathed in the frozen rivers of this Court. Her husband stood accused of slaughtering innocent faelings. Her son had left with the male who'd promised her their safety. She reached behind herself, struggling to get to the laces of her corset before sighing and giving up.

Aelia allowed herself to fall onto the couch in the sitting area, crying softly. It wasn't until familiar hands ran up her arms and fingers danced between her shoulder blades that she bothered looking up from the pillow she was crying into.

"I already shielded the room. No one will come if you scream. We need to talk." He had her trapped, his own body blocking her ability to get up.

She was no match magically or physically for Rhys. She didn't respond as he began to unlace her dress. "I was wondering where that sweater went, darling. I should have known my wife would have stolen it." He chuckled lightly watching as she sighed in relief as he unlaced that last row of strings. "I do not like it when they dress you so tightly you cannot breathe. You would be perfection in a potato sack. I have never understood the obsession with corseting you this tightly."

He moved, allowing her to sit up and put some distance between them."I did not do it, Aelia." He finally said as she stood to remove the dress. Her back was to him, but his eyes still trailed the lean muscles of her body and every inch of her pale skin. "I swear on my life, and Velaris itself, I had no part in that."

Aelia felt her brows go up. "You would put it in a vow to me?" She turned to Rhysand, not hiding a single inch of herself from him. "You would swear to me in the old magic you did not kill those children?"

Rhysand's eyes never left her face, refusing to take the bait she was using. "I would." His tone left no room for argument. It was a sentence that sealed the conversation with finality. "I would allow that bargain to mark you in plain sight if I had to." Another statement that made her eyebrows raise. He had not allowed a single promise or bargain to touch her skin in visible areas before.

"You are so beautiful," he finally said into the silence. "I forgot how stunning you are in the light of this court, my precious snowflake." Her cheeks heated at his words. He moved to her, hands finding her face as he tilted her gaze to him. "I have never found a single female or male I find more ethereal than you, Aelia."

She remembered now why she had fallen for Rhys so quickly. It wasn't the golden words, the strength of his muscles, the beauty of his perfectly carved face.

It was his eyes. That deep blue that leaned to a soft violet in the right lighting. She could lose herself in them, drown in them like the Oceans of Summer. She knew at all times, even if that mask of indifference and cruelty was on, she alone could look into his eyes and find comfort in them, she could find the truth in them.

And right now, he wasn't lying.

Her own hands moved to his chest as silence fell between the two. Her fingers brushed over the expensive fabric of his jacket before grabbing the lapels and crossing a line she had promised herself she wouldn't when they reunited.

Aelia pulled Rhysand down to her, locking his lips with hers and leaning further into his touch. He joined without hesitation, and quickly took control of the kiss. He tilted her head more to give him better access. He groaned at the taste of her as her lips parted enough for his tongue to swipe across hers. The hands on her face moved, one finding her waist, the other tangling into that snow white hair.

It was everything they had both dreamed of for 50 years now. Passionate. Safe. Gentle. Years of longing poured into that kiss. She gripped his jacket harder, not wanting to take it any further than he'd allow, but refusing to let go.

He pulled away, resting his forehead on hers as his hand refound her face. "When you are ready, I want you to come home. I will take you in the dead of night. Your brother already wants my head ." Aelia nodded, quickly kissing him again. "The bond is rejected. I am getting help. You need to know I never wanted anyone besides you, Aelia Darling." She nodded again, having already known that truth deep down inside. "You are my salvation, Aelia."

Rhys kissed her this time, backing her up to the bed and gently laying her down. They were looking at each other, their bodies softly illuminated by the dying faelight. "Rhys, we don't-"

"I want to." He kissed her again. "Let me show you how much I love you."

Tag list:

@we-were-beautiful

@daedriclys

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #rhys acotar #multi part fic #rhysand acotar #rhys fic #rhysand x oc

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itsclydebitches · 1 year

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Let's tally things up, folks!

Ruby's entire depression arc is "resolved" by a one sentence exchange wherein she just... decides she's better now? 'Is this the message?' Ruby asks, on her knees in front of a not at all subtle broken piece of glass. 'That I'm just supposed to give up?' and then literally the next moment she sees Crescent Rose, the weapon she's been flinching from because it represents all the failures she hasn't actually grappled with this season, and decides that depression and suicidal ideation are for losers. Let's go fight a randomly evolved cat!

The group still doesn't care about Ruby's Volume-long struggle. What are you talking about, evil kitty? Ruby's never been confused, or weak, or feeling like she's broken. We're oblivious to all that. That's why we follow her, because we can easily ignore everything that's going on in her life and instead just focus on ourselves. Didn't she have a breakdown a couple of hours ago about having to lead all the time? Should we really be announcing the moment she steps out of the tree that we expect her to be in charge again? ... nah, it's fine!

I guess the overall message is that any and every horrific act is excusable because you're just being yourself? Sorry we doomed a Kingdom and have actively helped Salem in trying to take over the world. The horrors we've enacted are good things though because it means we're being ourselves.

Ruby is conveniently the only Ascended who retains all her memories. Can't have the protagonist undergoing any kind of actual change, after all.

Neo throws herself into the tree despite that going against every iota of her characterization. Will we ever see her again? Who knows.

Is the blacksmith lady Alyx? I still have no idea.

Jaune is made young again, because of course he is. Love that they act like this is some curse he's suffered from - "It's been so long..." - and not an actual life lived across several decades. If I got stuck somewhere for twenty-ish years and then someone tried to magic me back to my 18 year old self I'd be like wtf? No? I'm not a teenager??? Will the show ever acknowledge that Jaune is actually an old man in a de-aged body now? I doubt it, considering this plot-line had no impact on his personality, skill, or outlook.

Also love that the brothers' story is treated like this wonderful tale of growth and exploration. The blacksmith is going on about how amazing it is that you don't know what you'll get when you create something, tone all fond for the demi-gods that have left her world to toy with new ones, and I just wanted one of the characters to start screaming about all the horrors they've caused. They killed an entire population in one fell swoop and have cursed two individuals for funsies, with the entirety of Remanent permanently under threat of annihilation if they don't meet the Gods' ambiguous standards of unity. Oscar didn't fall into the void because if Ozpin had been there he would have gone feral and attacked the blacksmith with his bare hands.

We're heading back to Remnant and Ruby still doesn't know that Jaune killed Penny! Ruby didn't even get her sword back. Or consider her in the tree therapy session. Why was killing her off necessary again? Oh yeah, Jaune angst🙃

We got a "when you're needed" from the blacksmith, so expect that time-skip in Volume 10. Can't wait to see how much important stuff the story skips over...

Also, this is so minor in the grand scheme of everything else, but I YELLED when Summer admitted that she'd lied about the mission. For nine Volumes these characters have been dragging Ozpin for every problem under the sun including, in Volume 7, for the mysterious disappearance of Summer, only for it to turn out that she LIED about where she was going and on whose orders, setting him up to take the fall when she doesn't come back. Who's going to have Qrow apologize to Ozpin for blaming him for years? Who's going to have Ruby unpack that her whole family is made up of liars and she was foolish to think that anyone, including Ozpin, could survive this war with a completely clean record? Hell, who's going to have Ruby simply tell anyone - including her sister - what she now knows about her mother's death? Not the RT writers, I'd wager.

Especially when they gave us a scene of Summer leaving on what she recognizes may be a suicide mission and leaves a token of affection for one daughter but not the other. Summer is Yang's mom too! Yeeeeeaaah the story is really bad about actually writing that.

Overall this Volume just feels like a colossal waste to me. The story ignored most of what was set up in Volume 8, introduced a world it didn't have time to flesh out, threw in an unnecessarily shocking story line about the hero trying to kill herself, 100% dismissed the ramifications of that, reset everyone so that none of the characters have to actually grow or change, and has now implied that all the plot important stuff - the Atlesians' survival in the desert, trying to ally with Theodore, Salem's next attack on Remnant, the development of most of our B Team, etc. - has occurred off screen.

The only thing this Volume accomplished was getting the bees together, which was something we should have had years ago. That admission hasn't changed their dynamic in any way, or introduced new conflicts (remember, no one cares about Ruby's breakdown, including her correct accusation that Yang has cared more about her girlfriend than her struggling little sister). It's just... there, not queerbaiting anymore, thankfully, but that feels like a very low bar to meet.

2+ months later and all I'm feeling is

#rwde #rwby #mymetas #suicide tw #also also a lot of the dialogue was just AWFUL #not Ruby's with the Blacksmith so much #but the Cat's?#Weiss'?#Jaune's?#god I was cringing through so much of that fight #'Nooooo these FEELINGS!'#like putting aside that none of Jaune's plan makes sense #(why is this hallucinatory Alyx suddenly helpful instead of ~evil~ like what the girls saw?)#(why would the smoke impact Neo if she supposedly has not connection to Remnant anymore - the reason the Cat can't leave?)#(why would feeling things fix possession when it's clear that the Cat feels SO MUCH via that broken heart?)#it was just awful to listen to #honestly highlights of the episode were Ruby looking cool going after Crescent Rose #and the newly introduced mystery of what Summer and Raven were up to #that's it #that's all I've got

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writersdare · 9 months

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Ghost of You | Calum Hood

Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader (she/her)

Summary: It had been four months of silence between Calum and Y/N. Could she finally move on?

Warning: angst

Word Count: 1 496

Requested: yes

Author’s Note: I had two files for this work, and one of it had a name "experimental". I chose that variant in the end, so I really-really hope you'll like it. It's very new for me, the storytelling might be quite unusual at first. Remember that feedback helps me a lot to improve the skills, and it motivates to write more ♡

It was stuffy in a room, as air conditioner stopped working. Y/N had spent much more time trying to fall asleep than actually sleeping; when the clock on a blank white wall showed five-thirty in the morning, the girl realised there was no way she was going to try to fall asleep again.

Opened windows didn’t exactly help to ventilate the flat, however, she saw some thin tree brunches swinging to the left and right, probably, begging angry clouds to finally release the rain.

Afterwards it usually smelled fresh, felt almost like a sudden beginning of a new life chapter, and Y/N, some other day, would love to simply wrap up in a blanket and listen to the sound of heavy drops hitting the glass. That exact day, though, the girl needed to leave home in the early afternoon for a job interview she didn’t even want to have, and Y/N hoped to get there at least dry.

It had been four months of silence between her and a person she loved so much, yet, the heaviness in the heart remained the same. Y/N wondered what it was exactly about, and how she supposed to forget the guy, when everything kept reminding of Him. Every little detail in the apartment would echo with a memory of them that did not exist any longer. A stupid ukulele He left in the corner of the living room, behind a beige pot with a plant they bought together. Everything was as if staring at her, making fun of her. Y/N was, probably, going crazy. It had been four months, and she wondered if her insanity could get any worse. The girl missed Him, their night calls. She missed that naive feeling of being in love. She missed the feeling of being full, as the girl started to feel empty again.

Y/N knew that she needed to do something about it, to stop thinking about the past and finally move on. Probably, change something in her life, too. Like changing a job to the one she didn’t want either.

Apparently, the universe didn’t want her to get that job, too, and since the sleepy morning Y/N only kept realising that the day was not going to be easy. A burnt tongue, when she was drinking coffee – the colour of His eyes, just like she burnt her heart when allowed herself to fall in love with Him. When He made her feel like it was a safe thing to do. Silly…

A broken cup, the one He used to leave cigarette ashes in, it would get under her skin so much. Y/N tried to fix it, just like their relationship four months ago, but some things had to remain broken. A missed bus, even though she was running after it under the noisy rain, and all in vain. She needed to slow down. She desperately needed it.

Y/N took a seat on a wet bench next to the bus stop and sobbed, feeling like time has as if stopped. Or maybe it was her heart, she couldn’t recognise the beat of, once He wasn’t a part of her life any longer. Her social anxiety opened the arms for a dark and tight hug in the most inconvenient moment, and Y/N simply froze, feeling that sudden fear, covering her from top to bottom.

“I’m sorry… Are you alright?”

A voice, calm and soft, called for her, and Y/N turned the head to the side to see a familiar face. The rain stopped, and it wasn’t gloomy anymore. A guy with rounded face, dark-chocolate eyes, plump lips and short hair was looking at her attentively. He was wearing light pants and a baggy shirt; despite the recent rain, it was still hot outside. The cheeks were slightly red, and she wished to leave a small kiss on His skin.

“Yeah,” Y/N mumbled a classic reply, but didn’t expect it to come out so quietly and dramatically. The guy even chuckled, probably, thinking that she was a bad liar.

“I know it’s maybe not my business, but I just don’t think ‘it’s alright’ if you can’t hold your tears and crying next to a bus stop. And it’s also raining,” He looked up at the sky. “Quite depressing.”

“Then why did you ask if I was alright at first place?” Y/N snapped and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Just don’t look at me if it’s so depressing," she glanced at the sky, and all she could see were pearl fluffy clouds.

“I thought it’d be weird if I’d ask ‘are you not alright?’,” He noticed and smiled at Y/N shortly. “Hey, whatever it is… It’s all temporary.”

The girl closed the eyes and gave herself a moment, before whispering quietly,

"No, it’s not."

She opened the eyes just to see Him dissolving in the air.

"Please, don’t go," Y/N could only beg, yet, the imagination let her down once again, and she couldn’t hold on to that memory anymore.

Their first meeting was not romantic, however, it was special. Calum was the only one of the passers-by who approached the girl, seeing she was having something close to a panic attack. He wasn’t there any longer, but even in her head the guy took a seat next to her to comfort. She fell in love with his moles on the right cheek first. He was holding her hand in His, asking to breathe slowly, and all Y/N could see at that time was His eyes, maybe little too kind for the world.

Too bad their fairytale was over, and there was no happy ending. Y/N needed to stop living with Him in her head, but Calum still was her safe place. Even if good memories brought the pain as a companion every time she thought of Him.

It wasn’t sunny in the head any longer, Y/N realised it was still raining like crazy. The girl was late for the job interview, but the were no regrets. In fact, she wasn’t sure what was feeling at first place, as when He left, He took all her feelings with Him.

Y/N lazily stood up from the bench, and legs slowly carried her to a coffee shop nearby, where Calum bought her latte that day. She was crying so much, even an almond syrup couldn’t help to make the drink less salty. Maybe it was even quite embarrassing, yet He made her feel safe.

"You know… Maybe it was all a lie. Maybe I just imagined Him," Y/N whispered quietly, making a sip from the cardboard cup and staring at the lacquered table. "Just like I am imagining you now…"

He was sitting next to her, having the same as she was. His free hand was placed on hers, when Calum sighed heavily and shook the head.

"Did you love him that much?" the guy asked, the voice was soft and simply pleasant to her ears.

"Yes," Y/N’s whisper left her lips almost right away. The girl had no powers left to correct Calum and say that she still loved Him, no matter how painful it was.

"Did he love you?" He asked, squeezing her fingers with his.

"Sometimes," the girl whispered back, remembering their sleepless nights and arguments, and small trips to nowhere, and tears, and laughter, and screams.

It was exhausting. Their relationship was exhausting, He said once. She thought it was alright. She thought she was fine, navigating in a fog of Calum’s constant mood swings and small irritations here and there. Y/N thought she could save them, she was ready to sacrifice her life for that relationship, but in the end all what she needed was to take care of herself.

"I have to let you go," she mumbled, still squeezing the guy’s hand in hers. "I really need to," Y/N tried to memorize the touch of His hand. The softens of his skin on hers.

"Stay for a little longer?" He asked the same thing she blurted out four months ago, standing in an empty hall next to Calum and looking at him with red, fully of tears, eyes.

"I’m sorry, I have to," she whispered his reply and broke the touch of their hands.

The rain was beating against the windows deafeningly. Her coffee was cold and suddenly too sweet to her taste. She was resting palms on the table, and it was quiet in the head. Finally no thoughts were bothering her mind. It was still dark and scary in times, yet, she could see the light somewhere in the end of her path. Or was it a beginning?

She made her last sip and stood up, rushing to leave the coffee shop. Maybe in another life they could meet again. But for now… she needed to finish that chapter and finally start a new one.

taglist: @dgrangaa, @gracieboogirl, @yukichan67, @valentinehrts

– pics and gifs aren’t mine and belong to the rightful owner, the gif found here @hellosanshine –

All stories are original and written by me. Do not copy, trace and post anywhere without permission and credit. The stories are fictional, they do not correspond to reality and written just for fun ♡

Masterlist | Taglist

#calum hood #5sos blurb #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer imagine #5sos #5sos angst #calum hood imagine #5sos x reader #5sos fic #Calum Hood angst #Calum Hood x reader #Calum Hood x y/n #Calum 5 seconds of summer #Calum 5sos #Calum 5sauce #writersdare #writersdare Calum 5sos

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bluenpjm · 3 months

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CLOUD9 AGENCY ☁ JJK X OC

synopsis. faced with decisions that can change the course of her career, the art director of the cloud9 agency decides it is time to act and reignite the flame she had once lost. and all because of an intern… genre. non-idol au ; slice of life au ; intern!jungkook ◦ fluff ◦ angst ◦ smut pairing. JJK x OC rating. M wordcount. 4.8K warnings. foul words, violent thoughts, sad vibes and life not making sense, drinking, arguing, just a lot of different feelings! a/n. a really really late birthday gift to my #1 supporter of this story. happy late birthday lulu, you're the best! 🥺💛🌻 chapters. 3 — 4 — 5

It hadn’t been the first time someone had disappointed Carolina. It had been, however, the first time she had allowed someone to get too close too quickly. And that was a mistake she wouldn’t be committing again anytime soon. After all, you learn from your mistakes. At least you should.

She storms towards the elevator, her anger seething within her.

Carolina doesn’t care to collect any of her belongings that stay laid in her office—and for the sake of everyone in that entire building, it would be best that her little purple troll with neon green hair would be in the box with her stuff the next day. Horace—the troll—had been her companion throughout the most challenging moments of trite; that, and her camera. Cassandra never bothered to replace the agency’s old one that, for the entire time Carolina had been with Cloud9, had been broken and merely acting as yet another item in her glass office to be left to collect dust.

Already inside the elevator, she faces the crowd for the seconds it takes the doors to close—some people had already started whispering, others dispersed once faced with Cassandra, while the one intern that she cared about didn’t move; her eyes are on him and she doesn’t look away until the doors close. As she begins its descent, she’s met with her reflection in the steel doors. She wants to scream and punch someone. Wholeheartedly, she wouldn’t mind punching both Jungkook and Cassandra straight in the face. “Stupid Jungkook,” she mutters under her breath, hands falling to her hips. “Fuck you and your meaningless empty words.”

Her chest keeps rising and falling as she crouches on the floor, practicing her breathing exercises to calm her racing nerves, as the box keeps on dinging, signaling that she is closer and closer to the ground level.

Stepping out of the tall building that had been her workplace for the last couple of years, Carolina stood on the bustling sidewalk, the busy street teeming with people despite the hour. She hated early meetings. In fact, she hated all sorts of meetings. There was no need to have an entire team stop their days so that they could waste 45 minutes of their busy schedules to speak about something that could easily be an email.

Her work day was managed according to her own will. The team that worked closely with the creative director was used to her being offline in the morning and extremely active during night hours. Her brain became electric after midnight and they had all been able to coordinate a pretty balanced work schedule so they could communicate effectively.

With its modern design, the towering building loomed above her. Car horns, the hurried footsteps, and the chatter of pedestrians created a symphony of urban chaos that served as background noise for the audio message she was recording for her best friends, trying her best to veil her frustration and disappointment as she recounted the situation. She knew she didn’t have to lie; in fact, it only worried her that her friends would jump Cassandra in the street or key her car. It wasn’t like her to openly discuss her feelings. Instead, she made some jokes.

“But yeah—” She pauses briefly, phone momentarily touching her lips. “I’ll be seeing you guys at 8 pm. As usual. Peace out!”

She hits the green button, sending her audio through, before immediately typing a quick message so they don’t rush to listen to her recording. 15 entire minutes of her ranting about her day so early in the morning would definitely alarm them.

Her ride finally arrives and she lets out a sigh of relief as she climbs into the backseat. The added feature of no conversation was a blessing as her mind throbbed with frustration. Leaning back against the comfortable leather seats, Carolina closes her eyes and lets the soothing melodies of the music playing on the radio wash over her. As the car began its journey, the towering buildings of the city gradually faded into the background, replaced by the familiar sights of her own neighborhood. The streets became lined with quaint houses and small local businesses.

From time to time, she would open her eyes, checking that the normal-looking guy who was driving her home didn’t have a little bit of Joe Goldberg in him and took a detour to his secret layer where he would try to murder her. She had been devouring true crime podcasts and it had quickly taken over her mind—whichever situation she found herself in could be the perfect crime scene. Sometimes she even found herself looking for ways to leave clues behind so that the investigative team could find her body.

But as her paranoid mind came to ease, she couldn’t help but appreciate the contrast between the hectic city and the peacefulness of her neighborhood. The cool breeze gently brushed against her face as she peered out of the window, and her home was just around the corner. She longed for a cold shower, a chance to wash away the stress and frustrations that had been weighing on her shoulders.

Successfully arriving home without being kidnapped, Carolina takes the stairs up to the third floor. The elevator in her building had been making weird noises and after getting stuck there twice, she decided not to put her luck to the test any longer. The angels were probably worrying about someone else because she was having one hell of a day.

She feels exhausted and defeated. As she closes the door behind her, one of her shoes is already flying as she swiftly takes it off. The other follows suit. Tossing her keys on top of her bag that had also been thrown to the floor, she moved with automatic precision toward the bathroom.

The soothing sound of running water fills the room as Carolina turns the faucet, letting it pour into the bathtub. The cold shower is replaced by a warm bath that would hopefully serve as a place to unwind and let go of the stress that had accumulated throughout her morning. The day had barely started and she was feeling drained.

Stepping into the warm water, she lets out a sigh of relief as it caresses her skin, the tension in her muscles slowly melting away. But the feeling of betrayal kept lingering in her mind, as she could still vividly picture Jungkook’s doe eyes stuck to the floor, the question of why he hadn’t backed her up as he promised haunting her. Closing her eyes, Carolina submerges herself in the water, wanting nothing more than the world surrounding her to fade away.

By the time Carolina left her bathroom, she was surprised to find her living room dimly lit, washed in tones of orange as the sun had already begun to set. She fetched her phone and wasn't surprised by the thousands of messages her friends had sent her, both on their group but also in the private chat. She was expecting them to explode by the news—that, and that they were going to kill her because of the lack of communication.

Her wrinkly fingers wouldn't allow her to leave a fingerprint behind, making it impossible to unlock her phone. Her attention fell on the time displayed on the screen instead and she knew she had to hurry if she didn't want to be yet again late to their dinner date.

Carolina’s encounter with her friends that evening was based on venting frustrations and only after she had some drinks and shared some laughs, they discussed her situation with Cassandra and Jungkook. As she had expected, the two girls immediately began a plan to make the lives of the two people who were tormenting her friend’s mind a living hell.

As the evening drew to a close, Carolina managed to put her friends in their respective cars, calling one for herself while feeling grateful for them. She knew that with the two she would never be alone in her struggles and that they would always be there for her. But as she arrived home, she couldn’t help but check her phone for any missed messages. Despite still being upset with Jungkook, deep down she craved to have something from him—some sort of explanation for his reaction earlier. Scrolling through her social media, the feelings only grew inside her and she decided it was time to call it a day. Setting her phone down, the silence in her room is deafening and it feels like it’s spinning. She just wanted to close her eyes and forget this day ever happened.

As days turned into weeks, Carolina’s rage faded down.

After quitting her job, her days settled into a monotonous rhythm. Her once bustling schedule was now a simple sequence of actions that played out in the confined space of her house. The path she treaded between her bed, the fridge, and the bathroom would soon start to feel worn, like a well-trodden trail that could be found in the woods.

During the initial days of her newfound routine, Carolina found a peculiar comfort in the limited space, as if the world beyond was too vast and too overwhelming to face. Deep down, she had been craving this alone time; this silence—a relief. The constant ringing of her phone, which had once been a constant reminder of work-related stress, was now replaced by a soothing quietness. For the first time in a while, she was able to breathe in the stillness of her surroundings.

However, a sense of emptiness began to creep into her life. Despite the wanted freedom, an undeniable void had emerged. Her phone became a reminder and creator of chaos in her mind. Whenever it chimed, her heart would skip a beat, anticipation rising in her chest. Her thoughts darted between who could be the culprit behind the sensation of the mini heart attack she suffered with each buzz. Most times, it would be her friends. But those weren’t the calls or messages that she craved; her mind darted to the possibility of it being him.

Jungkook crossed her mind endless times per day. The man who, somehow, had vanished from her life. His absence, although appreciated at first, started to gnaw at her, the frustration and anger that had been her initial response giving way to more complex emotions. She started feeling helpless. The more shows she binged, the more she started to realize that her life, in that moment, was stripped of sense.

Carolina’s thoughts seemed to gravitate towards Jungkook with every passing day. She would catch herself wondering where he was, what he was doing, and whether he was thinking about her as much as she thought of him. And every time, she would end up feeling ridiculous by occupying her mind with someone whom she believed she didn’t mean half as much to.

“So,” At the sound of her friend’s voice, Carolina’s gaze left the blurry images that were displayed on her screen to face the girl sitting on the other end of the couch.

“Oh no…” She sighed, fighting the urge to massage her temples. “what is it this time?”

“How’s that portfolio coming along?” Deo eyed Carolina through her eyebrows as she sipped on the noodles that were fuming from the cup in her hand.

“It’s coming.” The short answer was an easy indicator of the lack of interest regarding the topic. “Ya’ know.”

The friend hummed and Carolina pursed her lips together. Her friends had been bugging her for the past week so that she would get some work done. Deep down, she knew that this was their attempt at making her leave the somewhat depressing state she had allowed her body to grow into. She wasn’t like this—the type to back down; cross her arms while the world revolved and she remained still. She was a force of nature to be reckoned with. And so, it was odd to see her so defeated.

That night, however, after saying goodbye to her friend, she didn’t go to bed. She didn’t slouch on her couch either, as usual, Netflix playing on the screen of the TV with the most recent drama until she either finished it, the sun rose or she fell asleep. Instead, she managed to take all the clothes that laid on her desk’s chair and moved them to her bed, allowing her to sit in front of her laptop for the first time in weeks.

The first couple of times she hit the power button, it wouldn’t turn on, completely drained of power. So, Carolina lost a couple more minutes looking for the charger.

It took some minutes for the machine to reboot and for the screen to make her dark eyes glow. Opening the first drawer of her desk, she fetched an old dotted notebook and started to outline a strategy. In her mind, it wasn’t that clear yet, but Carolina had started to define, step by step, how she was going to get control of her life again and make it incredible.

The visual identity of her very own agency wasn’t done that night. The sun rose and she continued glued to her screen. And after a couple of days, she contacted previous clients, explained her new situation, and offered her services. She planned to start her very own agency, offering her creative mind to those in need. A modern-day superhero, if one could say.

The first couple of months were hard—harder than Carolina had anticipated. Regardless, she was in a good place. After a long day, her mind didn’t wander back to Jungkook; she didn’t think of him at all. He had become a wound that healed—a thought that she managed to wipe completely from her mind.

Someone once said that the most beautiful parts of life were in the small things. Carolina’s small thing lately was the group of people who acted as her employees—some freelancers that she hired to help out on her projects. The group worked weirdly in sync together and they had been a constant in her life in the last weeks.

Lu, a photographer with a keen eye for art and amazing drawing skills, had become a close friend. The other girl in the group was Sarah, a writer who would often pitch in Carolina’s social media strategies. The three girls were walking to the bar after hitting the dance floor of a club for the past thirty minutes.

“Are you official, yet?” Sarah nudged Carolina on her side, head tilting to a table where 5 guys were sitting. The latter’s eyes followed and landed on the one who was trying to vent some air through his black shirt. Jae. Carolina laughed. “Exclusive, then?”

“We’re playing a dangerous game already,” Carolina turned her back to the table, viewing the ludicrous wall of liquor. “Giving it a label will only make it more complicated.”

“Those big round eyes—he looks just like a lost puppy,” Lu’s speech is slurred.

“Getting strays off the streets is more your scene. How’s Lucious?” Carolina joked wittedly, remembering that just last week the girl had sent her a photo of a stray cat that she rescued from the streets. It would be kitty number four now and she was certain that the it’s just temporary—until I find someone to take him talk was a big fat lie.

As the conversation develops between the other two girls, Carolina’s eyes fall on the subject of their previous conversation. If anyone had asked her about him, she would most likely say he's nobody—better yet, a work colleague; someone that she hired now and then to help her out on her gigs. But when her friends asked, it had become quite evident that their little rendezvous after work, which usually resulted in her doing a walk of shame back to her apartment the next morning and ignoring his texts for the next couple of days until work brought them together had become more and more common and Carolina was trying her best so that people wouldn’t notice how he messed with her head and heart. Their eyes meet and Jae gives Carolina a giant smile, which she shyly reciprocates before turning around to face the bar yet again.

People-watching was one of Carolina’s favorite hobbies. Her creative mind would go wild, creating stories according to the faces of the people in her sight, sometimes even roaming into the dialogues they were having. Lucky for her, the area is packed.

A woman, not much older than her—or at least she guessed—playfully twirled her hair between her fingers, a radiant smile on her lips as she talked to a guy next to her. He had the puffiest lips Carolina had seen that night and it was evident by his body language that he hadn’t kissed or been kissed enough that night.

Another man sat not so far away and, in contrast to the people next to him, he was gloomy. Head was swinging up and down as his focus was on catching the attention of the barman to ask him for another drink. That one certainly would have a hard time finding a taxi home. And that is of course if he wouldn’t end up sleeping on one of the benches outside of the club.

The barman that the gloom wanted to attract was busy taking the orders of a young man over the loud noise of the music. The man was leaning his whole body on the counter in a kind of boyish manner, trying his best to speak clearly despite his eyes already appearing somewhat foggy. As he finally finishes, the barman gives him an assertive nod and the man smiles. And suddenly it clicks… that smile. It sends Carolina down a spiral and she has to control the pulsating need that rushes through her body.

“Hey, you’re feeling ok?” Lu rapidly asks but gets no response. “Are you going to throw up?”

Carolina focuses on the man’s movements and sees how he licks his lips as his back hits the counter, attention dispersing to something—or someone—in the crowd. His silhouette was unmistakable amidst the sea of gyrating bodies now that she had found him. Her eyes dart from his profile to the back of his head and it’s like she has laser vision and it’s starting to burn a hole in his head as his hand comes to caress the area. It’s at that moment that their eyes meet for brief seconds.

“I’ll be right back,” Carolina speaks through gritted teeth, not noticing the man taking a double look at her.

“Where are you going?” Sarah’s concern is palpable in her voice as she watches Carolina dart through the crowd.

The pulsating bass of the music reverberated through the dimly lit club, creating a rhythmic throb that seemed to synchronize with Carolina’s racing heartbeat. The air had suddenly become dense with laughter, chatter, and the occasional clink of glasses.

Carolina’s eyes finally meet the man’s surprised ones again. Determination fueled her steps as she pushed through the tightly packed room, navigating the ocean of people that ebbed and flowed around the bar. Each step felt heavy, like a battle against a roaring sea, the tide pushing her back in the shape of warm bodies that added to the suffocating atmosphere. The scent of perfume, sweat, and spilled drinks mingled in the air; it felt nauseating, the surge of emotions of seeing him after so long threatening to spill over.

Her breaths came in shallow gasps as emotions threatened to consume her, and yet, the determination to confront the man she had managed to extinguish from her mind propelled her forward. Carolina stands before him, hands resting on her hips as her eyes lock into his. The world seemed to quiet for a moment, the surrounding chaos fading into the background as she prepared to unleash the torrent of emotions that had simmered within her.

“Carolina, I—” And as her name rolls out of the man’s tongue, she almost crumbles, getting hit by sudden nostalgia. His shaky eyes scan her entirely and she restrains her body from moving. Jungkook is only steps away from her and where she thought hurt would lay, a sense of antipathy is born.

"Cat got your tongue?"

Yet again, they were face to face. Had she been completely honest, Carolina was terrified. Her life was decent—good, even. She was healthy, and happy, and enjoyed what she was doing. She was proud of her projects. She would even wake up some mornings and go for a jog. But encountering Jungkook at the club and being with him in the intoxicating setting such as his car, with all those memories and all those emotions, made her swing back and forth between maintaining her cool and ignoring the feelings that hadn’t been dealt with and, instead, shoved deep down into her core.

“I am sorry.” He paced slightly from the end of the couch he was sitting on to the window. For a few seconds, he stared outside. And then he noticed she hadn’t even blinked. “I am.”

A long sigh escaped Carolina’s puffy lips. She wondered if he was trying to make her believe his words or if he was trying to realize if he meant them. “So you’ve said.”

“I mean it.” Jungkook sat back down on the couch. He stared intensely deep into her eyes, trying to reach the warmth of her soul, sincerity pouring through his, while she gazed at him back, void of emotion. “I really do.”

“Can’t exactly say your word means much.” She reclined back into the armchair. While Jungkook was sitting on her couch, she had decided to take aid in the singleness of her armchair, far enough that he couldn’t reach her. “You say a lot of stuff, but it doesn’t seem to have much meaning.”

Carolina knew that her harsh words and unfiltered sincerity were one of the things that bothered Jungkook. It was probably one of the things that always made him feel like he was walking on eggshells around her. He was the complete opposite. Politically correct, even. His expressions could fail him—although rarely—but he would always say the nice thing, or not say anything at all. Carolina would be truthful if regarding something she was passionate about, even if it meant saying something the other person wouldn’t enjoy.

“I know what I did to you—the way I acted,” Jungkook stopped mid-sentence, almost as if trying to collect his words, afraid that if he said the wrong thing, Carolina would throw him out of the window. She had already pictured that scenario only minutes after he had entered her apartment. “it was wrong, and you deserved better.”

“And yet…” She gesticulates with her hands, emphasizing their position. “here we are.”

He just wasn’t saying the right thing. And if Carolina could be honest, she wasn’t sure there was a right thing to say. Maybe there was nothing that he could say to make up for the heartache she felt. For the humiliation. And seeing him hide his face between his hands as his head hung heavy between his legs, just made her want him gone. And almost as if reading her mind, Jungkook asked “What do you want me to say? I am really really sorry and I haven’t stopped thinking about it and you ever since.”

And that last sentence was like a punch to the gut. “Ya’ know what? I forgive you!” Almost as if Carolina had been suddenly hit with a wave of good spirits, she gets up from her armchair, her tone chipper. “You are forgiven for being an absolute asshole and a liar. I am completely over the fact that you betrayed my confidence.” Her hands fell to her hips and Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed. “So, please, leave. We don’t have anything else to discuss.”

Grabbing him by the arm, Carolina almost hauls Jungkook from his seat. “Wait,” his manifests are in vain though, because only when he enforces his stance she stops. “I think I loved you,” Jungkook’s eyes are glued to the floor. “and that freaked me out.”

“Oh, give me a fucking break.” Arms in the air, Carolina turns to face her wall. She takes a deep breath. “You loved me so you played me and then never spoke to me again. Can’t imagine what kind of father you’d be!”

He ignores her comeback, “I wanted to be with you every second of my day. I wanted to stay until late in the cloud room with you just noticing how the colors made you look more and more beautiful. You were messing with my mind and I was allowing myself to fall for you, even though it wasn’t appropriate.”

Carolina’s hand doesn’t move from the front door’s handle and she has to strain the laugh that threatens to leave her lips. Jungkook’s stance is incredulous as he doesn’t dare to look her in the eye as he professes what seems to be his undying love for the girl.

“You’re different and you’re weird and you have a funky taste and it scares the living shit out of me. You made me feel. When you smiled at me. When you trusted me with assignments…” Completely ignoring the girl’s wishes for his departure, Jungkook sits back on the couch again, this time on the armrest, his body facing her. “And then I get to the office, late as fuck, already freaking out, and see that scene. I was shocked. And when I finally came to my senses, I felt too embarrassed to reach out to you.” He speaks fast and his lisp is noticeable. Carolina sees how truthful his words are, his tongue poking the inside of his mouth as he faces the empty wall. “I was ashamed that I let you go like that, let you go through that situation with everyone looking at you and I didn’t stand my ground immediately like I should have.”

Jungkook stands up and Carolina’s grip on the handle falls. “So, you have every right to hate me. You can even punch me if you’d like if that would make you less hurt…” he walks closer to her, stopping only a couple of inches away, somewhat afraid that she would take on the offer. He gives her a small smile. “although I would prefer you wouldn’t. You look like you have a mean hook.”

She finally lets out a dry laugh, focusing everywhere but on the man in front of her. She’s trying to remain defensive, fighting the urge from her body to give in to his speech, to believe that he’s saying the truth, that maybe—maybe—this time, things can take a different turn. “So… past tense, huh?”

He ignores her sarcasm completely, as if switching roles and him being the serious one. Jungkook wants to take her hand that hangs mindlessly in the air but restrains himself from doing so. He fights the urge to run his hands through her fluffy hair like he had done so the previous night in his car. His brain can still recall how soft it felt on his fingers and how it smelled of lavender. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I know it’s my fault and I just want you to know that I feel like garbage for hurting someone who meant—means—so much to me.”

Carolina purses her lips together, focusing on the dirt that stained the white of his Converse.

“Can we start over? Friends?” Her eyes land on his extended hand and travel all the way up to his face. He’s hopeful and she can’t wait to touch his skin again, so she shakes it. He smiles radiantly as if a little kid who just won the biggest fluffiest teddy bear at a fair. “I’ll text you tomorrow.” Jungkook wants to sound certain but Carolina senses the shakiness in his voice.

“Just don’t spam me.” Carolina rolls her eyes while they finally let go of each other’s hands. Jungkook gives her one last look, providing her with a silent chance to change her mind and as she doesn’t, he nods, pleased, before leaving.

Carolina’s hands fly to her head, fingers massaging her temples as she is dazed by the event she has just lived. She closes her door, back hitting it for support and her focus relies on outside her window, how the sun had already set and the night had taken over instead, the sky painted dark navy blue while some stars shone in the distance.

There’s a knock on her door and she rushes back to open it, reason completely out of her mind, “Jun—” She stops mid-word. “Jae! I was not expecting you.”

“In my defense, I did text you. Not my fault you don’t look at the thing.” As he makes his way inside, chuckling, he gives her a small peck on the cheek. “Brought food.”

“Great!” Before closing the door, Carolina glanced at the empty corridor, trying to shake the weird feeling that left her stomach turning. It doesn’t go away, not even after she ate the ramen Jae brought. And so she takes this sudden unwell state to send him off. The drawers inside her mind were all messy; she had some organizing to do.

[ chapter 5 ]

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avvail-whumps · 9 months

Text

‘guns for hire’ — interrogation #35

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content warnings: whumpee referred to as “kid” but they’re an adult, mentioned past murder, mentioned past captivity, handcuffs, interrogation

Steven had been waiting for this.

From behind the two way glass, his eyes were focused solely on the man cuffed down to the table, who was absentmindedly picking at it with a heavy sigh. His eyes kept trailing towards the door, before falling back to his lap.

The detective let his gaze wander to his partner, who was also staring at Roy through the glass with a focused expression. She suddenly sighed, running a hand through her hair slowly.

“Once of us needs to stay with the kid,” she murmured, her eyes softening inexplicably when she looked away. “Once they’re done examining him, they’re gonna throw him in some interrogation cell by himself until he’s questioned. Poor kid needs a break, Steven.”

The older man’s stern gaze didn’t falter, despite the infectious sympathy he was feeling in his chest. It must have taken ages just to get the kid to calm down when they’d found him. Getting him into the backseat of the car was hard enough when he’d crumble into hysterics everytime, but it was the long journey back that shook them the most.

How small he’d looked draped in Sharpe’s jacket, swallowed up by the fabric, and that distant, almost hollow look in his fixated eyes once he’d gone quiet. If they had more time, Sharpe wouldn’t be questioning the kid so soon. He would have made sure he was taken care of, but they were on a time limit. They needed to get as much information out of the both of them as possible, as much as neither detectives didn’t want to exhaust Leo anymore.

“I know,” he sighed, narrowed eyes falling back on Roy with venom. “I’m gonna talk to him. Go make sure the kid’s got some water and blankets.”

Summers smirked subtly. “It’s almost refreshing to see you with a soft spot.”

“Hey, don’t push your luck,” he frowned, nudging her to leave. “Go on. Get out of here.”

Summers chuckled lightly, patting his shoulder as she squeezed past him. Once the door clicked shut behind her, Sharpe sucked in a sharp breath, following behind shortly afterwards. His fingers curled around the door knob of the interogation room, popping it open. A instant sour mood washed over him when he met Roy’s eyes. The man had glanced up at the sound of the door opening, shifting in his seat.

There was a suffocating, tense silence between them as Sharpe’s boots thumped against the ground, dragging the chair out from underneath the desk. He took a seat, fingers winding together in his lap, throwing one leg over the other.

Roy stared at him for a long while. Steven tried to reach deep within his eyes, reading the thoughts at the front of his mind, and he reached into his jacket slowly.

“Roy Gatlin, right?” He hummed, a subtle smile lining his lips. The man’s fingers tugged mindlessly on the cuffs, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah,” he answered, his eyes falling back down to his lap. Sharpe hummed, placing the file in front of him. He opened it up, eyes glossing over the first page with scarce interest. He already knew the contents of the profile anyway.

“Alright, Roy,” the detective hummed, his tone sharpening audibly when he spat out his name. “Here’s what gonna happen. You’re currently being interrogated as one of the suspects for not only the death of Jacob Williams, but also for the kidnapping of Leo Whitlock. I’m sure you know him, right? The blond kid we found in your home?”

Roy’s eyes lifted up, and his throat visibly bobbed at those words. His eyes flickered towards the door, before opening his mouth to talk.

“Look, I think there’s been a—”

“I’m not done talking,” the detective snapped harshly. Roy sank back into his seat. He scoffed, shaking his head in discontent. Every time he looked at his face, all he could think about was the poor kid’s blank and broken expression in the back of the car, and his chest bubbled with rage.

“But you’re not just some suspect,” he continued, tapping the profile. “Because between you and me, Roy, I know you’re guilty. You know it. I know it. So why don’t we just skip this little façade you’re putting on, huh?”

Roy’s face went slack, and his eyes crumbled under his. They landed back down to the cuffs, his fingers still on the cold surface of the table. The detective’s lip curled into a smirk.

“Why’d you kidnap the kid?”

Roy bristled. “I didn’t kidnap him.”

“Sure looks that way from where I’m standing,” he shrugged, his arms waving around the room. “We found him in your house. Can you explain that?”

“I can,” he frowned, his eyes darting upwards anxiously. Sharpe really rewarded the little scene he was committed to playing right now; could almost fool him if he wasn’t so adamant. His gut feeling had told him going above the law was the right thing to do — now they’d found Leo and brought him back. “He came to me of his own volition, like, I don’t even know, two, maybe three weeks ago.”

The detective snorted, getting a good laugh out of his words. “Yeah. Right.”

“No, it’s true,” Roy pressed, a slither of urgency in his voice. “He was banging on my door, and he was covered in blood, and dirt, and he looked like he’d been hurt really bad. He was in a really bad state, and he kept begging for help. I couldn’t just turn him away.”

“Did calling the police just happen to slip your mind, Roy?” The detective sneered, his brow cocking in disbelief. “What, that wasn’t your first thought when you saw someone critically injured on your doorstep?”

“Of course it was!” Roy snapped, setting his hands flat on the table in frustration. Sharpe’s eyes darkened at the outburst.

“You better watch your tone if I were you.”

The man bit down on the inside of his cheek, and visibly deflated against the chair with a heavy sigh. His hands went back to tugging anxiously on the chain of the cuffs.

“Look, I’m sorry, I’m just...” He trailed off, and Sharpe leaned forward with the intentions of making him as uncomfortable as he possibly could.

“Stressed?” He finished, tilting his head. “You should be.”

Roy tapped his foot against the ground subconsciously.

“I was going to call the cops,” he started again, this time a little quieter. “But everytime I brought it up, he just...went into hysterics.”

The detective rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat. He pulled out a pen and small notepad from his breast pocket, flipping it open with a languid attitude. He began noting down everything he was saying. It was being recorded from the other room, but he would have preferred to store the information how he liked. Taking the silence as an opportunity to continue, Roy did.

“He kept telling me not to,” he shrugged. “He’d...just get himself wound up and into a frenzy and I was scared it was going to make him worse if I did. He kept saying—”

Roy cut himself off, and Sharpe’s eyes flickered upwards over the notepad. His voice lowered inexplicably, turning into a barely audible mutter.

“That he’d killed someone...”

Sharpe raised a brow. “Speak louder.”

“That he’d killed someone.”

The detective let out a low scoff, his pen screeching to a halt on the paper. His piercing eyes pinned him down for a long moment, before deciding he wasn’t even going to indulge that comment. He shook his head, flipping the page over and moving onto the profile instead.

“You don’t watch the news at all?” The detective questioned. Roy awkwardly shrugged.

“I mean, no. I was away in Morocco for a while, so...” He trailed off. “If he was on the news, I didn’t see him.”

“Pretty convenient.”

“It’s the truth,” he frowned deeply. Sharpe quietly noted down the dates he’d been given, and made a mental note to ask somebody to check up on that later. It certainly helped his cause that he’d been out of the country for a chunk of Leo’s captivity, but Sharpe wasn’t willing to let it go just now.

“You’ve got a criminal record, Roy,” Sharpe sighed, spinning the file around so he could get a better look at it. He watched Roy’s eyes dart towards it for a moment, before slowly dragging them away. “We found him in your house. You’re a Gatlin.”

His eyes shot up at that. Suddenly, a venomous scoff escaped his lips, and a flurry of anger passed over his expression, not bothered about hiding it anymore.

“Oh, Jesus,” he snapped, running a hand through his hair with a firm shake of his head. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

Sharpe’s eyes narrowed at the sudden outburst. He kept his mouth shut in favour of letting him run his own, since he found it was better to let them wind themselves up in these types of circumstances than to keep prying. Judging from his explosive attitude right now, it probably wouldn’t be hard.

“I’ve already told you that I don’t have anything to do with my uncle,” Roy snapped, jostling the cuffs with a metallic clank. “You guys kept me in lockup for days when I got arrested when I was, what, sixteen? For a petty crime like shoplifting, of all things. Yet you lot interrogated me about my uncle like assholes. It’s the same as it is now; I don’t have anything to do with him. I didn’t want to be apart of his work and that hasn’t changed.”

“Are you really sure about that, Roy?” Sharpe pressed, his voice flat. The outburst didn’t bother him. “What about Mikhail Wilson? Does that ring a bell?”

He let out an exaggerated sigh. “I don’t even know who that is.”

“You sure? He was the man who hired you to kill Jacob Williams, which on that same contract, you kidnapped Leo Whitlock.”

Roy chuckled dryly under his breath, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “Contract? Do you think I’m a—?” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “You cops are just as prejudice as you always have been. I’m not working for my uncle. Did you even have a warrant for my arrest, or did they just see the name Gatlin and decide to let you run with it?”

Sharpe fell back into silence. The man took that as the cue to be quiet, and he fell back into the chair with a deep frown plastered on his face. It didn’t really matter what Roy said, because once he pried a testimony out of Leo, then whatever elaborate story he span would come crumbling down straight away. The click of the door opening broke him out of his thoughts, and his head turned towards Summers walking in. Roy eyed her up too as she entered, and he shifted uncomfortably as a thought seemed to cross his mind.

“Is he okay?” He asked quietly. Sharpe’s eyes hardened at the audacity of his words, lips sneering.

“Be quiet,” he hissed.

Roy huffed, closing his mouth. Summers motioned for him to follow her, and moved back towards the door without a word. Sharpe gave the man a dark glare as he rose to his feet, tucking the pad and the note into his breast pocket again. The chair scraped obnoxiously against the ground as he stood, not bothering to say anything to the man on the way out.

Once the door was closed shut, he let out a frustrated, heavy sigh. Summers patted his shoulder.

“Think you should talk to the kid, Steven,” she gently hummed, her eyes soft. “He’s barely cooperating right now. I think you should stay with him for a little bit.”

Sharpe’s gaze landed on the door, imagining Roy on the other side. He pulled out the notepad from his breat pocket, and handed it over to Summers with a quiet sigh.

“Alright,” he nodded. “You keep asking him questions. I’ll go see the kid.”

tag list – @unorganisedalienrubbish @d-cs @rabidrabidme @sordayciega @burningkittypoet @whumpawink @mannerofwhump @suspicious-whumping-egg @welcome-to-the-whumpfest @whatwasmyprevioususername @crilex29 @firefly017 @dutifullykrispyland @wibbly-wobbly-whump @there-will-always-be-blood @anonintrovert @justawhumpjunkie @whumptastic-world @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @whumpterful-beeeeee @anonymous1235 @sonder35 @unforgiven235 @whumpasaurus101 @mj-or-say10 @professional-idiocy @seaweed-is-cool @theelvishcowgirl @atomicsandwichprince @sunshiline-writes @peasandpotatos @pirefyrelight @enigmawritesstuff @reverie1234

#guns for hire #whump series #whump fic #whump writing #whumpblr #whump community #whump scenario #whumper #whumpee #leo and roy #writing #my writing #avvail whumps

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tigertale · 1 year

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A/N: Oh no! You, the magicless student, suddenly appeared in the all girl magical school, the Night Raven College!

A/N 2: At first I was like "let's write something good!" then I remembered that I don't care if it's well-written or not, I just want to get things off my system. Fuck my sexual orientation or whatsoever, no matter what gender Leona is, I can't resist him

A/N 3: (06/12/2022) I edited it a bit, but it's still a bit clumsy

•F! Reader; F! Leona

•〔　！〕 Smut; Badly written you'll lose braincells reading it; Grammatical errors; not proofread

"Ah! Leona, can you help me with my glasses? I can't properly see so it's difficult to look for them." The woman only answered with a click of her tongue before walking past the kneeling student. The magicless student helplessly tried to follow Leona's movements, scared that she had just ignored her and went about her day. Thankfully the beastwoman didn't go far. She bent over something, and straightened her back soon after.

"Is that…" Her upper eyelids were lowered and she frowned as she tried to see who was approaching her. Despite her blurry eyesight, she almost immediately recognised the pair of long legs and the half opened shirt under the bright golden waistcoat. "Leona?"

Said woman stopped before the one that was squinting under her. A tired sigh left the lioness as she looked at the magicless student on her knees. And the pair of glasses a few meters away from them deepened her frown.

"Oi herbivore, what are you doing on the floor?" She pushed her hands into her skirt's pockets with a teasing smile as she cocked her head to the side. The savanaclaw student leaned her hips forward in a mocking manner, and yet, the other one was not impressed by the power the one above displayed. Instead she moved to be in a more comfortable position as to fully watch her potential saviour.

"Eh, you mean those broken glasses?" The girl was suddenly up, stumbling on her way to Leona as her blood had yet to properly flow to her legs. She picked the glasses from the other's hand and when she tried to touch the lense, her fingers passed through.

The silence in the corridor was all too suffocating. The frown on Leona's face only but deepend at the awkwardness. Well? When is she going to announce her gratitude? But the other was still trying to assess the new information.

Broken. It was broken. In all her entire life, she had never broken a pair of glasses, and she knew that without them her school life would only go downhill. And not just her school life, she could barely walk without them, she was terrified just by the idea of it! Come on! She couldn't see past her hands, how was she supposed to live a normal life without them?

"Uh?" Leona recoiled at the sight of the tears that were threatening to fall. The prefect was on the verge of crying as she mindlessly passed her thumbs inside the hole of her glasses again and again, as if to prove herself that she was hallucinating. "Shit, are you going to cry?" The pitiful show successfully played with the strings of her damn heart. How could she not be when the ramshackle student was being… well, her. Her usual vulnerable and honest self.

"Stop this already, I'll repair them." She shot her head up. Leona would help her? The stars in her eyes almost made the lioness regret. Almost. But the fact that her personality switched so quickly did, in fact, impress her. "Continue to look at me that way and I won't. Oh Great Seven, you herbivores are so helpless and annoying." She removed the tears with the sleeves of her blouse and excitedly nodded all the while.

"Move already." When she looked up, Leona was standing by an opened door. Her whole body pressed against the doorframe and in her gloved hand, she was playing with the shards of her broken glasses. During the small span of time, she had already picked all the small transparent crystals of her prescribed lenses, much to her surprise

"Isn't that a classroom?"

"No shit. Come on, enter." She jogged towards the lioness who sent her a snide look, one that she couldn't catch now that she didn't have her glasses. She was relieved to see that the classroom was empty, not a single person in sight that would bother them by asking why they were together.

"Were you aware that it would be empty?" But before she could turn around, a hand grabbed the back of her head. As Leona walked forward, she was forced to follow without much chance of freeing herself as the dormhead was much stronger than her.

"What? Did'ja think I was passing by uh? This place's barely used, and no classes are ever held on this day. And Ruggie won't bother me here." She walked past the magicless student as they came to stop and plopped herself down on the bench on the first row.

The girl sighed before trying to pass over Leona's legs. She had made herself comfortable on the edge of the bench, as if to further prove how annoyed she was with the situation, and if she wanted to sit next to her she had to cross over the lioness somehow.

Halfway through, and under the grunts of the dorm leader and the string of excuses that followed them, the prefect was suddenly pulled on the lion's lap. She fell onto one of Leona's leg and her knee was quick to find its place in between her thighs.

"I'll help you and you won't talk about this place to anyone, 'k?" If it was the only thing she wanted in exchange for helping her, even if she was curious about it, she might as well just let it go. "Same goes for whatever happens here."

"Just that?" She looked behind her, but the look the savanaclaw student sent her was enough for her to reiterate her question in a way that would please the leader. "I- I mean…! Don't worry, of course I won't!" She then turned back to face the table, a tight grip on the hem of her skirt as she tried not to think about the warmth between her legs.

"Then it's a deal." And so, the shards were all carelessly thrown on the table.

Leona made quick work putting some of them together, placing them so that it would make the shape of her broken lenses. The magicless student tried to follow her movements, trying hard to understand what she was doing, but her thoughts were slowly changing and focused on something else. Her poor previous attempts to forget about the knee rubbing against her were for naught as the hand caressing her thigh quickly replaced the fixation she may have had.

Or so she thought. Subtle movements of the knee pressed at the apex of her thighs had started before she could have fully adjusted to the fingers that had slipped under her skirt. They were dipping closer to her underwear with each stroke and it was becoming all too mind numbing. What was Leona doing?

Still, she kept, or more like she thought that she was keeping, a straight face and continued to watch the hand of the dorm leader that was playing around with the crystal shards.

The lioness was well aware that the woman by her side was slowly drifting somewhere else. And oh how much she liked that. The herbivore was trying so hard that she was still focused on the empty table when both her hands were gingerly placed on both hips.

"Eh, you're enjoying yourself, aren't you?" She was brought out of her reverie at the rhetorical question. But she couldn't even question what she meant by that (and she was so embarrassed that she had been caught red-handed, what if it was all a misunderstanding?) as the woman jolted her knee harder.

She let out a squeak, the first of a long string of whines that followed.

The crowned princess was working her up to the bone. Using the opportunity of having two hands on her hips, she grinded her against her leg to add to the friction. She even took the time to properly angled her so that her clitoris would feel the direct drag of her underwear against her skin.

"Awwn, look at you. You're so cute like that ♥" The prefect could barely see around her. Without any glasses and with the tears hanging on her lower eyelashes, her surroundings were blurry. A blurry mess that heightened the confusing feeling assaulting her lower stomach.

The kisses Leona pressed against her skin went almost unnoticed with how hot she felt inside. But when she felt the lips closing around her collarbone, she couldn't just go back to forgetting it. No, not when her tongue was creating a humid mess on her cheek as it lapped her tears away.

A finger blissfully slid under the black cloth covering her cunt before she could properly comprehend it. She, who had been focused not a moment ago on the appendage tasting her, couldn't have predicted it. The shock that courses through her when a nail merely brushed against her erected clitoris was almost too much. And the lioness made sure to mess with her even more as she was pleased with the reaction.

Well you know what? She would've loved to continue toying around with the twitching and breathless herbivore on her leg, but there was something she had wanted to taste for a while.

And said herbivore was completely at loss when she was suddenly laid against the cushioned bench and her skirt flipped over her stomach. And the confusion came back when the tongue, that had been previously marking her neck, licked a long strip along her inner lips.

Leona was but on cloud nine when she had finally tasted the prefect. Couldn't she not be perfect? Her tearstained face and those puffy lips were the most beautiful thing she had seen in a while, and she would enjoy it as much as she could.

The magicless student was unable to stay put, despite her legs closing around the lioness in-between them, she couldn't help but writhe and buckled against the hot muscle that was deep into her cunt. And with the added fingers that touched and twisted her clit, she feared how long it would take for her to come undone.

She pressed her tongue inside her and a long pause followed suit as she tried to overcome the overflowing taste that numbed her mind. But it wasn't long before she eagerly started eating her out with a vigor that had never been seen from her. She was a princess, and she was to please those under her for them to desire more.

And rightfully so, because it didn't take minutes for the knot, the one that painfully throbbed with the need to come undone, to explode.

It didn't stop Leona who switched to lapping her up. She was pleased to have been able to drink her juice so fast, a treat that she wouldn't let go of so soon. And the beautiful sounds of the overstimulated prefect was a nice little gift that she took pride in receiving.

"Hey herbivore." The concerned person looked down as the woman pressed her cheek against her stomach. The half lidded eyes and the smirk reignited the fire that was slowly dying.

The lion moved to lean her body against the one under her signature mocking smile. She kissed each tear of the prefect away while her wet fingers roamed along her shapes. And the magicless didn't resist when Leona slipped her tongue inside her mouth. It felt good. She felt complete even. To emphasize it, and now that she was free of the pleasure that was previously assaulting her both inside and outside, she wrapped too shaky arms around the neck of the dormleader.

Leona was far from being displeased by the contact, but still broke the kiss. She instead moved to bite her ear with a chuckle that reverberated in the room. It was followed by the sound of buttons hitting the wood of the row of desks behind them.

The prefect may not be aware, but she was oh so cute. Her cheeks heating up when her fingers caressed the open skin under her bra as if she wasn't just fucked until cumming not even two minutes ago.

Another chuckle was breathed into her ear.

"You won't be able to talk about how much I've fucked you dumb. Remember that."

#twisted wonderland #twst smut #lemon #smut #leona kingscholar smut #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland leona #leona x reader

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comfysofti · 3 months

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Okay, hi people!!!

Glad my post regarding my fan princess incarnation got some(although small) attention, so gonna share some notes regarding her and voice that accompanies her chapters!!!

Starting of with Voice of Authority, aka voice that accompanies her chapters:

Generally speaking, other voices don't like him, and usually just argue with him a lot(he hates them, they hate him. Harmony). The only voices who doesn't hate him, is Broken(because Authority reminds him of Tower, hence him leaning to Authority, and siding with him in most cases. He's also just easy to influence in Authority's opinion) and Stubborn(he simply respects Authority in a way, and Authority himself shares the feeling because Stubborn is the only voice that he sees as he's equal in a way. Although the two have aspects that they hate about eachother, they still respect one another and make a good team)

Authority is all about having control over the player, and what they do with the princess. In his eyes princess is nothing more but a joke, because she's absolutely terrified of him, despite all those claims from Narrator that she's dangerous. And the player? He feels like they're something bigger than they are, so he's forcing them to kill the princess, aka, quote: "the obstacle in way of our true potential". He sees both other voices and the princess as something that's in the way of them(or the body) to get to their true, full potential. Their power as a god. You could also say that Authority can represent this selfish and power hungry part of being a god(in some cases!!!) when you only care about yourself, and getting more power not caring for anyone or anything else in your way. Although he's more leaning into side of having total control, despising those who are weak and can't even look at him without fear and respecting those on similar/higher power levels

Authority can be compared to Tower in terms of power(both can easily ignore Narrator and change the narrative to their liking, and both have full control of players body when they wish). Also, amongst all princess variants he would only like the Tower, because he sees her as someone more powerful than him. The power, they should be focusing on getting. Although im not sure if the two would get along, Authority holds respect to those who he considers he's equal or more powerful than him, and usually doesn't act aggressive with them, so again, he would deeply respect Tower, but wouldn't really let himself fall under her control

About the princess:

Both the Terrified and the Fragile, are perspectives in which player sees a princess as someone weak despite Narrator claiming otherwise, but not in the same way, it is seen in Damsel. While the Damsel is, well, a princess in trouble, kinda weak, the Terrified and the Fragile are paranoid, broken, traumatized kind of weak. And the voice of Authority, is complete opposite to her. While princess in those incarnations is weak, terrified, powerless, Voice of Authority is strong, controlling, powerful. While princess is thin ice in beginning of winter, easily broken by smallest leaf falling on it, Voice of Authority is sun's heat, easily melting everything in it's wake, no matter from what it's made

The Terrified, was trying to avoid seeing the player again, by trying to destroy the cabin, and then herself(using shards of broken glass to pierce her heart, and what not)which failed, leading to her cabin and basement looking like they'll crumble at any moment, but also abandoned, from the amount of time loops that had reset with each her death, but since player never reached her in them(from how quick she was being with her desperate attempts to end her existence)this is just a chapter 2, only one new voice, while princess kept memories of each of her failures to avoid meeting the player again, leading to her loosing her sanity

The Fragile, is made of glass, and as i mentioned in my previous post regarding her, some shards of her seem missing. Why? Because she was slowly crumbling from despair and pain. She made herself hollow, or at least tried to, but it just led to her self destructing, aka her body crumbling, leading to few shards of her body missing. And yes, played would find them laying around the basement

Those incarnations of the princess aren't bound by the chain, because player doesn't see them as strong or even the smallest of threat, so the only reminders of her even having shackle on her arm, is thin scar on her arm, where it used to be. It's prominent in Fragile, in a way, that the scar is made of red, thin line of glass on her arm, while in Terrified, she's constantly hiding it with her hand, or at least attempts to, but fails because it constantly bleeds, symbolising her trying to break the loop so many times, her body just stopped healing with time

Honestly, im pretty sure i don't have anything else to add regarding The Voice of Authority and "The Terrified" -> "The Fragile" so that's all, unless someone has questions <:33

Also, thanks for reading this <33

#slay the princess #fan princess incarnation goes brrr #stp #stp princess #stp voices #i love my princess incarnations so much <33 #still need to design them tho but i don't really have time for that rn #also voice of Authority is a bitch #all i have to say about him

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viisoul · 1 year

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JEALOUSY IS A DISEASE!

{servicetop!hange , sub!reader , jealousy , fem!receiving , hange!giving , overstimulation , afab hange , they/them hange, spoilers}

noticeable jealousy had begun to take over y/n, until hange finally notices. despite attempting to apologize, it doesn’t work until they come back at the suggestion of their friends, yet, it seems to go a bit further than just saying sorry.

y/n didn't understand it. she didn't understand why her partner, hange zoe, had been paying so much attention to a girl like pieck. sure, she was a titan shifter. how amazing is that? eren is a titan shifter, along with armin, porco, reiner, annie, and ymir. what was so special about pieck?

maybe y/n was just overthinking. after hange had asked everyone to do experiments on them, pieck had been the only one to agree.

though, at the same time, that didn't mean they had to be all touchy with each other.

y/n hated it. she despised it. she couldn't stand seeing hange touch pieck, even if it was just a mere poke. she also couldn't stand when hange would push her to the side, being so immersed in their 'studies' that they made absolutely no time for their own girlfriend!

to add insult to injury, y/n was well aware of pieck's developing crush on hange. it was just a little 'one-sided' crush, so porco told her. though, with hange giving pieck so much attention, it'd only fed into that crush.

she needed time to process everything. not only that, but she also needed to think about how she would explain her feelings to hange—... if they even had time to listen.

y/n sat in her bedroom, breathing heavily to attempt to calm herself. she had her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down harshly as she grasped at her bedsheets.

"i'm better... i'm better than her, right? hange prefers me over pieck... i'm sure she does. of course she does. i'm her fucking girlfriend."

she'd began to bite on her lip so hard that it bled, blood seeping down her chin.

"why didn't hange stop by like she usually does? she's probably with that bitch still!"

she then stood up, punching the nearest thing, which happened to be a vase filled with practically dead flowers on her nightstand. she'd punched it so hard that her fist had been on the ground along with the broken glass, the shards creating cuts in her fingers. she was quite literally fuming.

she breathed, calming herself down upon the sound of the glass making an impact with the ground.

after realizing the effect hange had on her, she chose to not think about it any longer, clean up, and prepare to sleep.

the next day, she'd woken up and felt rejuvenated. she chose to go out and shop, maybe even buy some ingredients so she could invite friends of her own over and have dinner with them.

she'd gotten herself all dressed up, so cute in her little puffy dress, the same dress hange just adored and urged y/n to wear whenever they went out.

though, hange wasn't on y/n's mind at the moment. if that's how they felt, then y/n would return the energy. y/n hummed, beginning to walk towards her front door.

she turned the doorknob, being greeted with the outside's fresh, warm air as it brushed past her, the sun illuminating its bright light down on her district, and you couldn't forget the most obvious thing.

hange standing at her front door.

it'd seemed as if y/n's mood just immediately dropped upon seeing them, that soft smile she had turning into a frown so quickly.

"uh—, hey, y/n!" hange greeted.

"...hi." she began to walk outside, closing her door behind her.

"i see you're all dressed up. you look really pretty."

"thanks." she started to walk, planning to go to her first destination.

"um...! where you going?"

"shopping."

"i-i see! shopping for what, exactly?"

"stuff."

"oh... right. well, i'm sorry i didn't come last night! i actually ended up falling asleep while i was studying, so..." hange chuckled.

"mhm." y/n hummed.

they sighed. "look, y/n. i'm really sorry for not paying attention to you and all. i was just—."

it'd seemed as if she began to walk faster, attempting to get away from hange and not hear whatever excuse they had. hange stopped for a moment, realizing what she was doing and began to catch up with her.

"y/n!" they called out.

eventually, hange caught up with her. they grasped her wrist, forcing her to stop her movements.

"can you please listen to me, my love?"

how could she not? y/n couldn't help but give in to hange when they called her that.

y/n sighed heavily. "fine."

"thank you." they cleared their throat. "like i was saying, i wanted to apologize for not coming to your house last night. i fell asleep, but i meant to come. i promise. but that's not what i mainly should be apologizing for! i'm really sorry for making you feel left out and like i don't love you. i do. trust me. pieck is nothing but a friend, honest. i should've been more attentive to you, i'll say that. can you forgive me? i'll make it up to you."

"...i don't know, hange." she began to step aside, the grasp of hange's hand on her wrist slowly weakening as she moved away.

"b-but—!" they stammered. "what can i do, y/n? i want you to forgive me!"

"why're you so desperate to apologize to me all of a sudden? did pieck finally leave you or something?"

"what—?! no! i just finally finished my research!"

she let out a scoffed laugh. "so, you realize your mistakes after you get bored of another girl and start to miss me. hange, i've basically been begging for your attention. have you not noticed everything i've done?"

they stayed quiet. it was true. y/n had been doing everything in her power to get hange's attention, but nothing ever seemed to work. she'd show off more parts of her body, try 'makeup' that women had been discovering how to make, trying to make herself smell nice, being more flirty and touchy with hange, but nothing seemed to work. they were always somehow more interested in pieck, and it shattered y/n.

hange noticed the tears welling in her eyes. it'd felt as if their heart dropped to their stomach from seeing their girlfriend's glassy eyes, several thoughts intruding inside their head.

"i'm sorry, y/n! what do you want me to do, get on my knees and beg for you to forgive me?! i'm giving you attention right now—!" they began to raise their voice, the tears finally falling down y/n's cheeks.

"please don't yell at me in public, hans." she whispered with a wavering voice. "i... just need time, okay? come back later."

and with that, y/n walked off. it'd almost hurt hange physically to see their girlfriend walk off without them.

—

hange decided to go drinking with their close friends, erwin and levi. they needed to get their mind off of y/n for a bit. they didn't want to overthink before revisiting her.

though, they hadn't touched one drink.

they had their head planted down on the table, hands grasping tightly at their hair as they explained to them what their problem was.

neither of them had ever seen hange so stressed.

"i don't know what to do. i tried to apologize." they whispered. "she told me how i apologize after getting bored of another girl, then she told me how she was trying to get my attention this whole time. i noticed, but i never did anything. i'm such an asshole."

"maybe the situation isn't as bad as you th—." erwin began to speak, but hange lifted their head and turned towards him.

"i made her cry!"

levi sighed. "just go to her house. you know you want to, so what's preventing you from going there and spilling out your feelings just like you're doing with us?"

"because im in front of her! it's different when she's not here!"

"then, i don't know what to tell you."

"levi's right. if neither of you choose to speak to each other, it's a lost cause."

suddenly hange stood up. "fine. thanks for the help."

they then began to exit, leaving erwin and levi alone.

though, when they'd reached outside, they were running. they were running to get to y/n's house as quickly as possible. the sky was dark, the moon and its stars shining it's silver light upon the district and the rest of the world for that matter. the temperature had dropped ever since the morning, and now the cool breeze was brushing past hange's face as they ran. the cicadas were the only sound, along with their rushed footsteps.

it'd felt as if her house was several miles away, far from hange's grasp. though, no matter how far, they'd always run several extra miles for y/n's sake.

hange approached y/n's house, rapidly knocking on her door like a maniac.

soon, she'd finally came to the door. hange's girlfriend. the one and only girl that had their heart. the one and only girl that always made their palms sweaty, their heart beat quickly, their face red and hot, and overall feel like they were in love.

"hange, what the fuck?"

"i'm sorry, i am." they panted. "i just... ran all the way over here."

y/n sighed. she didn't have it in her to tell hange that they couldn't come inside after running all the way her to home.

"come in."

just those two words alone made hange's face light up.

y/n closed the door behind hange as they walked in.

"y/n, i wanna apologize to you again. no matter how many times i have to apologize, i'll keep doing it until you forgive me. i don't want pieck. i only want you. please trust me when i say that. you're the only girl i want. you just—, you make me feel... i don't know!" hange shook her head, suddenly picking y/n up and kissing her.

y/n couldn't deny the kiss. she was so touch starved, it wasn't funny. light smacks came from their lips as they kissed each other, their kisses being full of love and desperation.

"i'll— never do— that— again. promise..." hange said in between their kisses. "mmh, i love... you."

"i— love you... too, hans."

hange began to move towards the nearest surface, which happened to be the dinner table. they then pulled away, leaning their forehead against hers.

"you're wearing that dress again. i love when you wear that, y'know." they whispered. "but let me take it off for now, okay?"

"hange..."

hange wrapped their arms around y/n, beginning to unbutton every button on the dress, pulling it off of her so gently. the way hange used their hands, touching and rubbing on their girlfriend was incomparable to anyone else. they made her feel good.

the dress slid on the ground, leaving her in nothing but undergarments. hange placed their hands on y/n's waist, leaning forward for a couple pecks on the lips before moving down to her jaw, then her neck.

hange's breath fanned over the skin of her neck as they looked up at her. they smiled, placing their hand on her thigh. they locked eyes with her, both showing nothing but lust and desire.

"i'll show you just how much i think you're better than any other girl." they purred.

y/n couldn't help the grin growing on her face. just that alone made her think that hange thought extremely high of her and their relationship.

hange tugged on that thin fabric, the one little restriction that was holding them back from diving in. they let out a drawled whine, pulling her underwear down to her ankles. a grin grew on their face as they placed their hands on her knees, spreading her legs out just enough so hange could fit their face between her legs.

y/n's lips trembled in anticipation as they moved their hands closer towards her dripping cunt, slightly jolting at the feeling of their fingers on her folds. hange gently spread her out, a low groan coming from their throat. they began to press little pecks against her heat, specifically on her clit.

hange was teasing. they were getting a kick out of the way she squirmed, so eager for them to continue. she reached for hange's hair, softly grasping at their brown strands.

then, all of a sudden, hange swiped their tongue up her pussy, a whine slipping past y/n's lips. their nose had grazed along the sensitive bud as hange moved their mouth lower.

"mmh," the vibrations of their voice had sent a shiver up her spine. "so good already."

they began to kiss at her cunt rougher, licking around every inch of her pretty cunt. they'd let out a groan when they felt her thighs squeeze around their face, dragging them in deeper and having no choice but to keep going. however, it wasn't like hange minded. they wanted their girlfriend to use them to make herself feel good.

y/n began to lay back on the table, keeping herself propped up with her elbows. that'd given hange a bit of room to slip two of their fingers inside of her entrance, feeling her walls squeeze at their digits. they started to thrust their fingers inside of her, swirling their tongue at the same pace as their fingers.

they were kissing and sucking sloppily, the sounds of smacking, slurping, and high pitched moaning resonating throughout y/n's otherwise quiet household. hange raised their free hand, y/n lacing her fingers with theirs.

they closed their lips around y/n's puffy little clit, focusing on that specific spot as they slowed the pace of their fingers. they looked up, lidded eyes locking with hers. she could feel hange's lips curling into a grin.

they pulled away with a pop, hange giggling at how obsessed they were. they could do this all day if they could. y/n was just that addicting.

they pulled their fingers out, y/n watching as they began to lick their fingers clean. hange hummed, then placing their hands on her knees and spreading her legs out wide.

hange wasted no time in going back to flicking her tongue against y/n's cunt, her whines growing louder once more. they moved their hands down, nails digging into her plushy thighs. they could feel her buck her hips forward, beginning to hump and grind at their face.

"s'a good girl, keep usin' me like that." they spoke, words muffled.

hange was enjoying themself. y/n was a whining mess under them, tugging at their hair, squeezing her thighs against their head, toes curling and head thrown back. they enjoyed the fact that they were the ones making her feel like that, and no one else could compare.

y/n did just as hange told her, continuing to use hange as if they were a toy for her own desire and pleasure. her mouth was slightly opened, legs trembling as she forced them deeper.

the taste of her almost had hange trembling, the whole experience being too good for both of them. they didn't hold back on their moans on groans, being extremely vocal, although they were the person eating their girlfriend out.

hange slapped her thighs, rubbing the stinging pain away as they let out a low growl.

"does it feel good?" they questioned, those blissful vibrations of their voice resonating on y/n's pussy.

"mm—, mhm!" she managed to get out in between her whines.

"use your words for me, yeah?"

"yes, hange—!" she squealed. "m'gonna cum!"

"mmh, do it, baby, c'mon."

hange didn't stop, nor did they slow down. they continued that same pace, that pace that felt so good y/n couldn't help but cry out, her back arching as she felt herself release on her lovers tongue.

"ah... good girl. tastes so good." they spoke, licking away all of her sticky juices that flowed out of her cunt so prettily.

however, hange didn't stop there. it'd taken hange to rip three more orgasms from her and her telling them she couldn't take it anymore until they thought that was good enough.

they were coming close to an end, their pace faltering and their movements getting sloppy. that didn't stop them from sucking on her swollen clit and using their tongue to explore every angle of her pussy.

finally, hange pulled away from her, the entire bottom half of their face wet from them managing to get her to squirt on them.

they placed their hands on the table, catching their breath as they stared at their girlfriend. she was spasming. she panted, hange taking notice of the dried up tears on her face from her being so overstimulated that she couldn't help but cry.

seeing their girlfriend in such a state—, it made hange so wet under those undergarments. they shifted uncomfortably, feeling their own pussy throb in neediness. they were so turned on, it wasn't even funny. just looking at y/n being like that because they made her that way... she wanted to fucking ruin her all over again.

"...y/n?" hange whispered sweetly, placing their hand on her abdomen.

"y-yes?"

"can we do one more thing? promise i'll be quick, my love."

♡

#snk hange #hange x reader #anime #anime x reader #attack on titan #aot x reader #manga #snk x reader #shingeki no kyoujin imagine #hange zoë #hange zoe #levi ackerman #erwin smith #pieck finger

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