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#even at their worst they chose one another and they decided to keep trying even when no one would have blamed either of them for giving up
watchmegetobsessed · 9 months
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NO MORE GAMES
A/N: so this concept might be familiar for some of you bc i posted about it earlier before i started working on it but now its officially here! and this is my thank you gift for all of you for reaching 15k followers!!! it's insane, thank you so much and hope to bring you even more stories soon!!!
WORD COUNT: 7.9k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: Your friend forces you to give Tinder a try. Surprisingly you fetch a date with the handsome and a little bit older Harry. But he stands you up and you lose hope in dating. However it's a real plot twist when you run into him at your dad's barbeque and he is introduced to you as the future CEO of your father's company.
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“This has got to be the lowest point of desperation.”
“Don’t be so dramatic!”
“I’m not, this is truly the end.”
Dani rolls her eyes and just keeps tapping away on your phone’s screen, setting up your Tinder profile.
You. On Tinder. The app you swore you’d never use. How did this happen?
Well, it happened because your boyfriend of two years decided to dump you in a McDonald’s parking lot, only to post about his engagement to another woman on Facebook three weeks later. 
Disgusting pig, you’re convinced you were blind and deaf in those two years, that’s how you could put up with him for so long.
You’ve been wallowing in your self-pity for the past three months and Dani, your best friend had enough and said that you need to get on a dating app, hook up with some fine ass men and forget about Cruz.
“Alright, it’s all set, want to have a look?” Dani smirks, obviously pleased with herself as she hands you over the phone.
It’s a decent profile, she chose some good pictures of you, your profile was never your concern, it’s others on the app that makes you crawl out of your skin.
“Perfect,” you flash her a forced smile, she grabs the phone and then starts swiping vigorously. “Hey! Don’t swipe right on everyone!”
“Not everyone! Just the hot guys!”
“You’re not even reading their bio!”
“Because I don’t care, we’re looking for a hookup, not your husband here, duh!”
You sit, feeling helpless as you watch your best friend decide who is worthy of you in the virtual meat market. This is really not your scene and you’re more than skeptical anything good will turn out from it.
Dani keeps swiping for a while before you finally talk her out of it and you settle watching a movie instead, forgetting about the profile that is now available for every single man in your area. 
To be honest, it completely slips your mind until you’re getting ready for bed and unlock your phone to set an alarm and see all the notifications from Tinder.
“Fuck,” you breathe out, falling into bed as you unwillingly, but tap on one of the notifications and the app opens.
It’s been only a few hours, but you got twenty-seven matches and five out of those even messaged you. You instantly skip the first three because one straight up asks for nudes, one just sends you a bunch of emojis and the third one sent the worst pick up line you’ve ever heard. 
The fourth one is okay, but it’s kind of… well, it’s a simple “Hi, how are you?” and you’re not sure how to reply to that, so then only one’s left.
Harry.
The age next to his name reads 36, that’s not that big of an age gap, only eight years, you’ve seen worse. Besides, he looks younger, almost your age according to the pictures. He has a couple, but not too many. He’s smiling on his profile picture, the t-shirt displays his many tattoos on one of his arms, his hair is slightly curly and mostly a mess, but it’s the good kind.
He is definitely your type. 
He opened with referring to something that’s written in your bio which feels nice, knowing that he actually read it instead of just swiping right based on your pictures. Your thumbs hover over the screen for a bit before you finally give in and type him an answer.
He replies right away. And so the conversation starts.
One message follows the other, you’re jumping from one topic to the next and at one point it feels like you’re talking to an old friend and not a guy you’ve never actually met. The next thing you realize that it’s three am and you’re still talking. 
Y/N: We’ve been talking for hours and you still haven’t asked for my number, should I take it as a bad sign?
HARRY: Didn’t want to seem too pushy, but I wanted to ask for it the moment I saw your profile. 
You smile like a little girl as you type your answer.
Y/N: That would have been too soon, you’re right. But now would be a good time.
HARRY: Hey, crazy idea! Can I maybe have your number?
You laugh. You genuinely laugh at the screen and that probably never happened before.
You give him your number. 
You didn’t think it would go this far, this whole Tinder ordeal Dani forced you into. You were kind of set that it won’t work so why should you even try? 
Now it’s a surprising outcome that you’re on your way to meet Harry at a bar, only three days after texting nonstop. And you’re kinda nervous about it.
You haven’t been on a first date in a long time and it’s giving you the jitters as you get ready. Your experience getting to know Harry in the past few days has been incredibly positive, you wonder if it will be the same when you physically meet.
You arrive at the bar a little early and take a seat at the table he reserved on his name. To ease your nerves you order a vodka soda that you drink quickly, the alcohol mixing in your veins pretty fast, but you’re still nervous to meet him in real life. 
As you wait, a guy comes up to you who seems to be more interested in your cleavage than you while he tries to chat you up, but you quickly reject him, your gaze keeps returning to the entrance, expecting Harry to walk in at any moment.
Minutes pass by and then seven o’clock rolls around, the time when you were supposed to meet, but you see no sign of him, which makes your stomach twist and turn. You double check the time, the date and the place to make sure you’re where you need to be.
“You seem awfully lonely,” a voice speaks up behind you and for a split second you think that it’s Harry, you just missed when he walked in, but when you turn around you see a totally different man, holding two drinks in his hands, clearly offering one to you. You make no effort to accept it.
“I’m not,” is all you say, turning your eyes back ahead. He doesn’t get the hint.
“If you’re waiting for someone I’m happy to be your company until they arrive.” He rounds the table and stands in front of you, blocking your view of the entrance entirely. Exhaling irritatedly, you finally look up at him, your face making an obvious statement that you’re not open to the chit-chat.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“You definitely seem like you could use some cheering up, let me be the–”
“Oh my God, are you really this dumb? It’s a no, I don’t want to talk to you, now leave the table!”
“Jesus, what a bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he walks away. Normally, you’d definitely call him out, but right now, you’re just staring at the entrance, almost like a maniac as the minutes pass by and there’s still no sign of Harry.
You check your phone, praying there’s gonna be a text at least, saying that he is just late, that he will be here soon, but nothing. It’s dead silent. 
“Fuck,” you breathe out, your feet jumping underneath the table. It’s already twelve past seven. This is not just being fashionably late now.
You wait some more, hoping for a miracle, but it never comes. So does Harry.
When it’s been over thirty minutes you chug down the rest of your cocktail you ordered to make you seem less like a loser and call it a night. On your way out of the bar you pull up your messages with Harry and send him one last text.
Y/N: Thanks for nothing.
And then you block his number, throwing the experience to the very back of your head while you delete Tinder off your phone.
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The annual barbeque is here. Once a year your dad’s home turns into one big fair, he invites most of his employees, investors and partners, throwing a feast in his backyard. It means about five hundred people invade your previous home, where you still spend a lot of your time even though you have your own apartment now. 
You always come as well, because one, your dad loves to show you off and introduce to everyone and two, you usually use this occasion to network a bit. You’ve just opened your own gallery and what’s a better place to promote your art than a backyard full of wealthy investors? Selling your art can seem like an impossible task sometimes, or to be more precise, most of the time. Until your work is not known you make no profit, you need that first purchase that will bring in the rest and get the business rolling. Unfortunately you have not had that one first customer.
Yet.
It’s a sunny Saturday, as if your dad ordered the weather especially for the occasion. There has never been a barbeque with rain or cold before, your dad seems to have control over this as well. There’s endless food and drinks, several activities for children, since it’s a family friendly event and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, mixing and mingling.
You’re nursing a mojito you mixed yourself, so it’s generous in the alcohol department. Wearing a white sundress you’re trying to have a word with everyone you know and everyone you want to know. 
“Sweetheart!” You hear your father calling out and you spot him a few feet away, waving at you. “Come over here, I want to introduce someone to you!”
Excusing yourself from the conversation you slalom between the guests and reach your father under the oak tree that’s near the tiny pond in the middle of the backyard. Yes, your father has a pond in his backyard, as well as two pools, a jacuzzi and a whole ass greenhouse. He is just that extra.
“Hi daddy,” you smile, joining him as he places a hand to your back and gestures towards a man who is currently turned away.
“Y/N, let me introduce you to the man who will take my place in the future, my successor, if you’d like. This is Harry Styles. Harry, this is my only daughter, Y/N.”
Your body makes the realization faster than your mind. The man turns towards you, but by that moment you’ve already recognized the tattoos you’ve looked at in pictures more than you’d like to admit. Then you see his face and your stomach drops before your brain processes who you’re facing.
Harry stood you up on your first date two weeks ago and you thought you’d never see him, but fate decided to make a joke out of it, because now he is here, in the flesh, looking at you with a just as shocked expression as yours.
You both are quick to gain control back over your faces and Harry is the first one to break the silence.
“Hi, it’s, um… It’s nice to meet you,” he clears his throat as he holds a hand out for you. For a short moment you think of just turning around and walking away, but you don’t want to cause a scene and have your father question your behavior, so instead, you shake his hand, the touch of his skin sending tingles down your spine as you let go of it in a bit of a hurry.
“Yeah, it’s really nice to meet you,” you nod, but can’t hold back the spite in your voice. Luckily, your dad seems to be oblivious to the scene happening in front of him. 
“Remember that awfully long procedure we had to find the perfect person to take over after me? Harry was the only one to survive it and I knew we found our guy.”
Your dad pats him on the shoulder proudly and Harry smiles back at him, but you notice how tense he appears to be, most likely because of your presence. 
“Ah, he seems like a decent, reliable guy,” you add with a forced smile and you know he understands the meaning behind your words.
“He is!” you dad beams. “And Harry, this is my wonderful daughter, she graduated from CalArts, top of her class, she is an exceptional artist, you should see her work!”
He has seen your work. Well, virtually. Naturally, you talked about what you do and he asked you to send pictures and you did.
He loved them. Or at least that’s what he said. Now you question everything he wrote in his messages. 
“I’m sure she is… fantastic.”
The torture continues for a few more minutes before others join the three of you and you have a chance to slip away, which you grab without hesitation. 
It feels like all your blood is pumping in your head, you can’t tell if you’re shocked, angry or disappointed, most likely all of these together. Part of you wants to chug something strong to forget about it all, but then another part wants to read everything on him and tell him to fuck himself.
A tequila shot and some internal raging later you’re inside the house, it’s quiet, everyone is enjoying the weather outside, so you have a chance to settle your thoughts. With another mean cocktail in your hands you’re pacing back and forth in the spacious living room, your racing thoughts making it impossible to calm yourself. 
“Can I at least try to explain myself?”
The voice coming from the sliding door that leads out to the backyard makes you jump and when you turn around you spot Harry standing there, looking awfully good, but you’re way too angry at him to acknowledge it. 
“I don’t think I want to hear it.”
Out of frustration you can’t do anything else than drinking and avoiding to look at him, hoping he might disappear if you ignored him. Unfortunately, it’s not the case, he moves closer.
“Y/N, I’m really sorry about standing you up. It was unacceptable, I know. I had a… um, I had a family situation and I didn’t have a chance to let you know I wouldn’t make it.”
“What situation?” you ask right away, and when he hesitates you know it’s all made up. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I don’t need your apology, you didn’t think it was necessary to tell me you wouldn’t come then, now you’re only apologizing because you were forced to meet me.”
“Y/N, it’s not… it’s not what you think.”
“Oh, I think it’s very much what I think it is,” you let out a bitter laugh. “It’s fine, but I thought you were mature enough to tell me you’re not interested in me anymore. I’m a big girl, I can take the rejection.”
“But I was interested, I still–” He cuts himself off, not sure if it’s fine to say that he is still into you in the situation you found yourself in. “Y/N, I didn’t want to hurt you. This… It’s not how I planned it. I’m sorry.”
You want to stay mad. You want to stand your ground and unleash all your rage at him, but… you can’t. He might have been bullshitting you about why he stood you up, but he truly seems like he feels bad. 
And he really looks way too good.
“Alright. Apology accepted.”
He looks visibly relieved, his shoulders ease and even a tiny smile appears on his lips.
“Thank you. Really. So… Do you want to have a drink now?” he chuckles, but the devilish smirk you flash at him scares him instantly.
“Oh, I said apology accepted. That doesn’t mean we’re fine and back at where we were.”
Before he could say anything or question what you said you walk away, leaving him in a blur. 
You only see him from afar a few times until the end of the barbeque, you catch him staring quite a few times as well and his looks reflect hunger, so you assume your looks definitely live up to his expectations after all. You miss when he leaves at the end, but you know it won’t be the last time you see each other. 
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A plan is formed in your mind about how to teach him a lesson for standing you up. A little game, to be exact. 
Two days after the barbeque you have to meet your dad in his office and you definitely don’t want to miss the opportunity to mess with Harry. You go out of your way to change before heading to the office, wearing a tight, extra short black dress that will surely catch his attention.
With a stack of documents under your arm you stroll into the building as if you owned it. Well, for a while you were set to inherit the business, but when your father realized you’re more into art, he ditched his plans and started looking for his successor. You remember how nervous you were before sitting down with him and telling him you wouldn’t take over the company like he wanted you to. To your surprise, he took it well and you realized he just wants you to be happy, doing whatever your heart desires. 
As a side hustle, you still get involved in some part of the business, just to learn the basic ropes and gain skills you can use in other fields as well, so every once in a while you can be found in the office. Today is one of those days.
The girls behind the front desk smile at you warmly and let you pass by, heading straight up to your dad’s office on the top. Standing in the elevator you check your outfit, making sure it’s not too revealing, but will do the purpose you wore it for. It doesn’t look like you’re going clubbing, but the amount of leg you’re showing will definitely earn you Harry’s attention, just how you planned.
It’s like fate is playing on your side, when you’re approaching the office you spot Harry in there with your dad, a devilish smirk tugging on your lips as you finally reach the glass door, knocking on it gently. They both lift their head up, but the expressions they make are very different. 
While your dad seems happy to see you, gesturing for you to come in, Harry on the other hand seems… shocked to say the least. Most likely not because he is seeing you, but because of how you look. You catch his gaze wandering down your legs right away, his chest rising with a deep breath as you walk inside.
“Hi, sorry to interrupt. I brought the documents you asked for.”
“You’re not interrupting anything, come in!” your dad waves around, rounding his desk to greet you with two kisses on your cheeks.
“Hi Harry, it’s so nice to see you again,” you smile at him charmingly, angling yourself so your legs are perfectly in his view. 
“It’s uh, it’s nice to see you as well, Y/N.” 
The blush on his cheeks is proof that your plan worked pretty well. While chatting with your dad, you keep an eye on Harry and see him practically devouring you with his eyes, his jaw clenches every time you move your weight to one leg and pop your hip out to the side. It’s safe to say he is a fan of your outfit.
“Alright, I better get going,” you sigh and start to pack your stuff when you drop your pen on purpose. The plan was to lean down and tease him even more, but he jumps to your rescue instantly, picking it up for you, but it gets his face to the same level as your thighs and he straightens up faster than the speed of light.
“Here,” he hands you the pen, obviously avoiding looking at you. This is probably the most fun you’ve had in a long time.
“Thank you,” you smile at him, making sure to brush your fingers against his hand as you take the pen from him. “Have a nice day.”
And with that, you stroll out of the office. 
Y/N one, Harry zero.
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You don’t give him much time to recover from your appearance at the office. A few days later, on Friday, you decide to take advantage of your dad’s pool, which is one of the reasons you spend so much time at his. 
And of course because you love him. 
Today however, you have a different reason to parade in his backyard in the tiniest bikini you own. 
Your dad’s office has floor to ceiling windows watching over the glistening pool. Most of the time you try to avoid having a pool day when you know your dad is working from home, but Harry is here today, so that changes everything. 
You saw him arrive a few hours ago from your room’s window and they are still working, so when you’re done with your own business calls you decide it’s time to go for a swim. The neon pink bikini you chose was worn last time in Miami on spring break when you were still in college, a wild weekend you’ll never forget, but you’ve changed since then and it’s not really your style, but it will serve the purpose the best. To help your success you ‘ve also covered your body in tanning oil, making you glisten in the sun.
Putting on your sunglasses you grab a towel and tanning oil and head outside. 
It’s hot outside and you’re already planning to lie in the sun after a swim, the water glistening on your body. Putting on your best poker face you finally walk out and approach the pool. You know this place like the back of your hand, so you know exactly when you come into view from the office. Squaring your shoulders you keep your head high and walk up to one of the sunbeds, dropping your stuff down before striking a not too obvious pose as you put your hair up. Angling yourself just right, you catch a glimpse of what’s going inside and you need everything in you not to start grinning when you spot Harry not far from the window, staring at you like he is about to burst. Your dad is somewhere in the back on the phone, oblivious to the scene that’s happening so close to him. 
The second act starts when you grab the tanning oil and start applying it, rubbing it into your skin, making a show out of it. Oh, how you wish you could see Harry’s face up close, but you have a good guess what’s happening in his mind and it’s very pleasing.
First, you lie down to tan some, normally you cover your head with a towel because of the heat and not care about how you look, but this time you try your best to look as if you just jumped out of a Sports Illustrated catalog. 
Not long later it’s time to jump in the pool. You swim a few laps before emerging from the cold water and returning to your sunbed, all while imagining what could Harry be thinking right now. 
You’re still chilling in the sun when you hear the sliding door open and spot your dad walking out. For a moment you freeze, afraid he might tell you off for using the pool when he is working with someone in his office, but he seems delighted.
“Hey, I have to head out for a quick meeting, I’ll pick up lunch on my way home, want me to grab you something?”
“That would be great, thank you,” you smile at him peeking over the rim of your sunglasses.
“Harry is here, so don’t be surprised if you run into him. He’ll probably stay in the office.”
“Alright.”
With that he turns around and disappears in the garage. You hear the engine start and then he drives away, leaving you and Harry as the only people in the house. Not to make it obvious, you turn to look inside the office, but you’re surprised to see that Harry is not there anymore. Has he left the house as well? Did your plan not work after all?
It’s starting to get too hot outside and you didn’t bring anything to drink so you decide to give up and go inside. Heading into the kitchen all you can think about is a glass of cold lemonade.
Rummaging through the fridge you grab the bowl of fruit salad you made yesterday and brought over and as you’re balancing everything in your hands and pushing the fridge’s door closed with your hips, it scares you when you see Harry standing behind you by the kitchen island.
“Jesus, are you a fucking ninja? I didn’t hear you.”
Walking closer you set everything down to the island and pretend like your pulse is not over the roof. Not just because of the scare, but because he looks incredibly good. FItted pants and simple white shirt, the top few buttons are undone, showing a glimpse of his chest, the sleeves are rolled up, allowing you to check out his tattoos as well. God, if you weren’t trying to teach him a lesson you would be all over him already.
It makes you feel better though that he is definitely checking you out as well. He is not trying to mask it too much, his eyes keep wandering down your body that’s still only covered at the most crucial parts by your tiny swimwear.
“Having a day off?” he leisurely asks, hiding his hands in his pockets as he leans against the island next to you.
“Nope, my work is pretty flexible. I’m mostly my own boss.”
You see him nod from the corner of your eyes as you dig into the fruit salad, trying to act casual and ignore the fact that you’re in a hot pink bikini while he is dressed for work. 
“So how long are we going to play this?” he then asks out of the blue. 
You know exactly what he is talking about, but you won’t give in that easily. With your hands on your hips you turn to face him with an innocent look on your face and you don’t miss how his eyes snap down to your chest, then to your lips before they move back to your eyes.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
A tiny little smile tugs on the corner of his lips as he looks away, out to the terrace where the pool’s glistening surface is probably reminding him of the show you gave him not long ago.
“Is this supposed to be punishment?”
“Did you do something you deserve punishment for?” you tilt your head to the side. 
He opens his mouth to reply, but then decides against it, just stares back at you and you wish you could read his mind. He pushes himself away from the island and starts to walk away, you take it as your wind or this round, so you turn back to your snack, but then suddenly he moves back and cages you between his arms, his hands gripping the counter on either side of you. He is behind you now, not even touching you anywhere, but still, it’s as if he was everywhere on your body. Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear his low voice in your ear.
“If you want to play, I’m happy to play along. But be careful, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
This should be the perfect moment for a clever remark, but your mind is so fogged up you can’t articulate one solid thought. He moves back and you feel his presence disappear from behind you before you see him walking back towards the office, but before he could disappear he shoots one last comment at you.
“Pink looks good on you!”
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He did not joke when he said he would play along.
So far, only you’ve been playing this game, but since your little pool side performance, Harry has definitely turned it up on his side as well. 
He has been pretty subtle so far. The bastard has noticed that his tattoos make you droop, that you love to check out his backside whenever he is wearing fitted pants and those smirks… they make you weak in the knees every damn time. And he takes every opportunity to use these against you whenever you run into each other. 
You’ve been dropping by your dad’s office a lot more often than usually in hopes of seeing Harry and he’s been a frequent guest at your dad’s house as well. Stolen looks, tiny touches and never ending teasing have become your usual lately and you’ve been enjoying it way too much probably. 
It’s been pretty long since you had a crush and it’s an exciting change to have this little thing going on with Harry, whatever it really is. 
The major change is that you’ve started to text again. A few days after your encounter in your dad’s kitchen the flow started again and you’ve been talking ever since. It’s like before the failed date. 
Two weeks pass by and you realize it’s been only small little games, nothing extreme since your show at the pool. You’ve been trying to come up with a move that will leave him defeated and a shopping spree with Dani is what gives you the idea. 
She always makes you go lingerie shopping, she likes to surprise her boyfriend with new sets and while looking around you find one that catches your eyes and you end up buying it with the pure intention of making it part of your game. 
You’ve never been that big of a fan of fancy lingerie sets, but you do know it’s what you need to spice the game up. 
When you’re finally home you put on the quite revealing black set, fix your hair and even look up what poses are the best if you want to send racy pictures to your partner. Well, Harry is not your romantic partner, but definitely your partner in this game. 
You take quite a few pictures, some in the mirror, some with a timer, your camera roll turns into the newest issue of PlayBoy and it takes even more time for you to choose just one. When you finally settle on one it’s time for the fun part. Opening up the text threat with Harry, you send the photo and a few moments later a text.
Y/N: Sorry, meant to send it to someone else.
And then you just wait. 
For an hour your message stays unread, but then the status changes and your heart jumps into your throat. He saw the message eleven minutes ago, but there’s no response and it sends you down the rabbit hole.
Did your plan work? Is he fighting a major hard-on at the office? Or does he think your attempt to seduce him was ridiculous? Is he gonna lecture you about sending nudes? Why is he not responding???
Minutes turn into an hour and you’re losing hair at this point, regretting you even thought about sending him a spicy picture and you’re about to block his number, getting yourself ready to never see him again when your phone finally chimes with a message and Harry’s name appears in the notification.
HARRY: No. Shit like this can only be meant for me. I’m serious.
You gasp. Almost moan reading his words. And suddenly you forget about the madness you went through in the past hour. It was worth it, it was all worth it because this one message has lit you on fire. 
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His message stunned you so much you didn’t even reply. What could be said after that? 
Got it, sir.
Or maybe…
Don’t tell me what to do.
Oh yeah, that would have really messed with him, but you chose silence and he didn’t double text you either. It stopped the flow of regular messages too and in the next three days you realize how much you miss him when you’re not talking. 
You’re falling for him and you hate that beside the little games, he is not taking the step you want him to. 
A few days after the picture was sent an old friend of yours comes to visit his family in the city and the two of you agree to catch up over dinner. Salim was your study buddy through college, he was always up to spend the entire day in the library whenever you had a theoretical exam to take. Art school wasn’t just painting and creating all the time, unfortunately. After graduation he moved to France with his boyfriend and has been living there for the past years, but he often comes home to visit his loved ones and he always makes time for you as well. You’ve been keeping in touch, but not as regularly as you used to and it’s great to talk when you’re not only in the same time zone but also in the same room. 
“Look at you! You’re glowing!” he greets you when you get out of the Uber and he wraps you in a tight hug. 
“Not as much as you! I see Claude is taking good care of you!” you chuckle, squeezing him back before letting go of each other. He looks stylish as always and you notice he’s starting to dress more and more like Claude, whose style is excellent, by the way. They fit each other really well.
You walk into the restaurant, it’s one of your favorite places and the host shows you your table. You order appetizers and drinks and dig into everything you haven’t discussed over the phone in the past couple of months. 
“Now, tell me about that Tinder guy you last mentioned,” Salim smirks at you over the table and you realize you never told him the whole story, just that you were going on a date with Harry. 
A lot has happened since then.
You update him about the failed date and the meeting at the barbeque and how you’ve been messing with each other since then. 
“You did what?” He almost chokes on his wine.
“I sent him a nude picture,” you repeat yourself with a coy smile. 
“You’re really brave, I would have never had the balls,” he snorts. 
“I needed to step my game up. But we’ve been stuck since then.”
“He’s too busy jerking off to your photo,” he chuckles.
“No,” you smile. “Maybe he is… here.”
Your eyes grow wide when you spot the all too familiar form of Harry by the bar and he is staring at you with a bewildered look that does things to you that you can’t exactly explain. 
“What?” Salim’s face forms a confused frown. 
“He is… literally here. At the bar and don’t turn around, but he is looking straight at us.”
Your body is reacting as if you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to, but nothing like that is happening, so you’re not sure why your reaction is so intense. Luckily, discretion is no problem for Salim, so he turns to see Harry in a way that’s not too obvious. When he looks back at you his eyes are just as wide as yours.
“Holy shit, he really is hot!”
“I know!” you whisper, not sure what to do, because Harry is still very much staring at you. “Fuck, should I say hi?”
“No, let him come to you if he wants to!”
Nodding, you try your best to focus on the food and your friend in front of you, but it’s almost impossible when you can clearly see Harry over Salim’s shoulder. Either he keeps staring at you or you always catch him looking, doesn’t matter, because it makes your stomach drop every time your gaze meets his. 
Then your phone lights up with a text from him.
HARRY: I hope it’s not a date.
“Oh my God, he thinks we are on a date,” you whisper to Salim upon reading the text while keeping your face as straight as humanly possible. 
“Is he jealous?”
“Most likely,” you nod, typing your response.
Y/N: And what if it is?
His reply comes before you could even lock the phone.
HARRY: It better not be.
Y/N: So bossy. Unfortunately, you have no right to hold me back from dating.
“I think I stood my ground, but I feel like I’m gonna have a heart attack.”
Placing the phone back to the table with screen down you’re determined to focus on Salim from now on, but it’s just impossible to move on from those texts. At some point however, Harry disappears from your view and you fight the urge to check your phone to see if he had any response.
While Salim is trying to decide if he wants some dessert or just another cocktail you excuse yourself to the restroom. It’s definitely been an emotional rollercoaster, not just your usual friendly catch-up, you’ll surely be thinking about it for a while. 
Just as you’re about to close the door behind you a foot sticks in and stops you and then everything happens so fast.
The door is forced open and you gasp as you take a step back and watch Harry walk in, close the door behind him and lock it as well. His eyes are burning as he looks at you and you’re just a speechless ragdoll as he pushes you against the cold, tiled wall, caging you between his arms, his hips pressing against yours.
“Who is he?” he hisses at you, his pupils dilated and wild and you’ve never seen him from this close, you’re basically breathing the same air.
“He’s…” You can’t speak or form any words, the air is pushed out of your lungs every time you try to fill them enough to give you the strength to speak up. Fuck, you’ve never seen him like this, but it’s making your pussy throb for sure.
“Answer me or I’ll go out and make a scene to find out.”
“He’s just a friend,” you manage to breathe out. 
“Are you fucking him?”
“No.” You want to tell him that you couldn’t even if you wanted to, because Salim would be more interested in fucking him than you, but the words die on your tongue when he exhales sharply at your answer.
“Fuck your little games, Y/N,” he then says, almost growls as he shakes his head in defeat. 
“Fuck me instead,” you hear yourself saying, but it’s as if it wasn’t you who spoke, yet you still said exactly what you had in your mind. 
HIs eyes are throwing flames again when one of his hands moves to the side of your neck, his thumb moving under your chin to tilt your head upwards, angling your head, but still just teasing you.
“No more games.”
“No,” you shake your head desperately. Your hands have found their way to his waist and you fist his shirt, fighting the urge to rip it off him.
“I mean it, Y/N. It’s all in or nothing. I want you to be mine.”
“I’m already yours.”
His kiss comes so fast your head goes dizzy for a second before you recover and return it just as eagerly as it came. It’s been the longest foreplay, weeks worth of teasing and yearning after each other end now as Harry’s body presses you against the wall with so much force it’s almost too much, but you want him as close as possible. 
Even though you’re certain you’ve lost your mind, your consciousness still knows you’re in a public bathroom and you have limited time. Harry knows too and he wastes no time moving you over to the counter, he hoists you up and sits you on top of the granite next to the sink. You gladly wrap your legs around his waist and lock him against you while his mouth is now exploring the curve of your neck and shoulders, desperately pushing the straps of your dress to the side to reach more of your skin. Your body is reacting instantly to him, your hips roll against him and you feel his bulge between your legs, a tortured moan slipping out of your mouth. 
“Harry!” you beg him, when his hand slips under your dress and into your underwear, his skilled fingers teasing you just right, but you need him fast and hard, this is not the time and place to play games.
“I wish I could take my time with you,” he grunts before playfully biting the soft skin on your neck while unbuckling his belt. “But I’m gonna fuck you fast and you’ll take it like the good little slut you are.”
All you can do is whine and force your legs further apart, watching him push his pants and underwear down in one motion, his cock springing free, ready to ruin you. Harry pushes your dress up your torso and hooks a finger into your panties, pushing the fabric to the side to reveal your drenched pussy. 
“Have you thought about me while touching yourself?” he asks, his other hand going to his cock, lazily tugging on it, precum dripping from the tip.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He jerks on his cock a few more times before spitting on it and pushing inside you without warning. A scream dies in your throat, because you bite into your own hand not to make too much noise, but he is definitely bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, his erection is filling you up, stretching you like nothing and no one before.
“Don’t whine, I know you can take it,” he pants, his eyes rapidly switching between your face and his cock buried balls deep inside you. 
All you can do is nod before he starts moving. He gives you a few slow thrusts to adjust, but then he picks his pace up and starts slamming into you ruthlessly.
And you love every moment of it.
It’s so animalistic, so intoxicating, your head feels dizzy again and you need everything inside you not to start screaming his name. Normally you need more stimulation and time to feel your orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach, but it’s different with Harry. You can already feel your climax nearing.
“So fucking good, you take me so well,” he preaches you, his hands holding onto your thighs to keep you in place and you curl an arm around his neck to pull yourself closer to him, pressing your lips to his in a messy kiss.
“I wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you in that bar.”
His words reach your brain and you process what he said, but you can’t reply at that moment, because you’re already on the verge of your orgasm.
It doesn’t take long for the both of you to reach your climax, he is the first one but you chase after him just seconds later. It lasts long and he keeps thrusting into you even when it’s dying down. His face is buried in your neck when he finally stops and you both are panting heavily.
When he lifts his head he’s looking at you with hazy eyes, but the smile that tugs on the corners of his lips is something you’ll remember for the rest of your life.
“You said you wanted to fuck me the moment you saw me at the bar,” you repeat his words from earlier now that you can actually form words. Judging from the look on his face he knows why you’re questioning him.
You never met at the bar, he stood you up that night.
“I went there,” he admits. “I saw that other guy flirting with you and… I didn’t think I stood a chance with you. So I left.”
You’re staring back at him in disbelief. All this time you thought he didn’t come because you weren’t good enough for him, but it was the opposite. He was there. He came and wanted to meet you, but lost his confidence because of that random guy.
“You’re the only person who ever stood a chance with me,” you softly say as you reach up to take his face in your hands.
“I thought I was too old for you.”
“But I knew you were older all along,” you chuckle. “It was never an issue for me.”
“I know,” he admits with a sigh. “I fucked up, I’m sorry.” He kisses you softly and it’s mind-blowing how he was fucking you hard just moments ago and now he is treating you so gently.
“I need to go back, Salim will get suspicious,” you sigh as you slip off the counter, trying to fix yourself.
“Oh, your date is waiting for you,” he teases you, pulling his pants back up.
“He is gay, Harry,” you chuckle and watch his expression change.
“Okay, I approve.”
You laugh and pull him down for another kiss.
“Should we talk about this after?”
“I can come over when you get home.”
“I’m afraid we won’t do much talking if you do that,” you grin at him, arching an eyebrow.
“Promise, I’ll be a gentleman for at least thirty minutes. That should be enough for all the talking.”
“Uhuh, alright. See you at mine then,” you nod before slipping out of the bathroom.
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The plates are empty, dinner is now officially nearing its end but you still haven’t broken the news to your dad. 
The news that you and Harry are together.
He is sitting across from you at the table, his hesitant eyes finding your gaze every other minute. He is shitting his pants, you know that, even though you told him your dad will probably take it well. He is not one to stress about such things, but Harry didn’t believe you, he thinks he’ll throw him out of the company and tell you to never see him again.
Absurd. 
Clearing your throat you decide it’s time for the announcement.
“Dad, I want to tell you something,” you speak up and panic flashes through Harry’s face for a moment, but he’s quick to mask it. 
“Alright, I’m listening,” he smiles at you.
“Okay, I’ll just… Um, I want you to know that I’ve been dating someone. It’s kind of… serious,” you add, your eyes finding Harry over the table and you don’t miss the blush on his cheeks. 
“That’s amazing! Do I know this person?” your dad enthuses.
“Well, you know him very well. He is actually sitting here at the table.”
You watch as realization washes over his face, he looks over at Harry and then back at you, while you both wait for his reaction.
Then a tiny smile appears on his face and you know you were right, there was nothing to worry about.
“That’s great news, I’m happy for you.”
Harry exhales in relief and you can’t help but laugh.
“See? I told you,” you smirk at him with a shrug.
“Are you sure you’re alright with it?” Harry asks, still a bit doubtful, but your dad just smiles at him warmly. 
“I’m more than sure, son. Why would I not be alright with it? I trust you with my company, I trust you with my daughter too. Easy as it is.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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cheapshrimpysheep · 1 year
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Broom Flying Tutoring
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SUMMARY: How would it be if they were assigned by Coach Vargas to help you with your flying lessons?
CHARACTERS: OB Students (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia & Malleus)
TAGS: Fluf; GN Reader
WORD COUNT: An average of 340 words per character.
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CONTEXT: Seeing how bad you were doing in the flying lessons Coach Vargas decided to pair you with another student. Either with someone who is good at it to help tutoring you or with someone who is struggling just as much as you are for the two of you to help each other. But what if they also have a crush on you?
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Coach Vargas chose him for being one of the best students in the class.
He's a great tutor, strict, but good. If he has a crush on you, this will be a great way to show himself off to you.
He will tell you all the technical stuff like: How to position your legs and feet; What back posture you must have; Where to focus your attention; etc. “Hands at half past noon! … twelve thirty…”
When you fail, he will not be as "tyrant" as he would be with his Heartslabyul students. He knows you don't have magic and you’re trying your best. But he will still be strict with you. His way to caring.
When you succeed at an exercise, he will congratulate you with his smile on. He'll also use it as a proof that it is not impossible to you and that you can do even better if you two keep practicing.
If you are on the same broom for him to make a demonstration, he would be the one in command, and you would be holding onto him from the back. Thank the Great Seven you can't see his blushing face from where you are.
If you fall from a great height, he will use magic to save you because he knows he's not strong enough to catch you alone. And then will run to you to check if you're not hurt. Once he sees that you're okay, he'll sigh and tell you to be more careful. You almost gave that boy a heart attack.
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Coach Vargas chose him because, despite being the best at the class that’s not enough to pass. So, if Leona doesn’t help you Vargas will not pass him.
He's the worst best teacher ever. He is the best because he can actually make you fly on the broom by yourself at the end of the day. But he’s the worst because of the way he does that: with a lot of smug and pretending he doesn't give a dam about you.
When you fail, he’ll sigh, put your fingers to his forehead like you're an idiot, and tell you to "try again, herbivore." as if his technique is right and you're the only one failing.
When you succeed at an exercise, he will give you his signature smug smile and tell you something like “See, it’s not that hard if you do as I say.” He will continue with the simplest exercises, hoping that will be enough for Vargas until the end of class. He just wants to end it and go take a nap somewhere. Maybe on your lap as thanks.
If you are on the same broom for him to make a demonstration, he will be behind you with his hands on yours to show you how to control the broom. A guy as prideful as him is not the little spoon type. He will eventually lean on you out of laziness, and as a way to mess with you.
If you fall from a great height: The minute before that he would be making fun of you, and the next he will reach to you on his broom like a bullet. He'll catch you on his arms, sigh annoyed and tell you how clumsy you are and how much work you're giving him because of that. Secretly relieved that you're okay.
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Coach Vargas chose him because sometimes is good to pairing two people that are equally struggling to help each other, for them being more comfortable with someone at the same level.
If he has a crush on you: THIS IS HORRIBLE!!! He’s going to look like a complete idiot in front of you. NO! You should not see him like this! Please assure him that it's ok and you will not think less of him for that.
He only can help you as much as you can help him. Best case scenario: you will exchange observations about what you may be doing wrong and somehow overcome it and actually improve on your flying skills.
He doesn't have the same problem with you as he had with Jamil. You’re helping him as much as he’s helping you so that’s already a well-structured deal.
When you fail, he’ll smile charmingly at you and encourage you to keep trying.
When HE fails, he will be extremely frustrated and irritated by that. But will make his absolute best to hide it so you don't notice. He’ll hesitate to try again. He already humiliated himself in front of you once, he doesn't want to do it again.
When you succeed at an exercise, he will congratulate you with a smile, but a fake one. He is happy that you succeed, but now your one step better then him. His not mad that you’re getting better, but if you keep that pace, you'll be so much better than him you'll look down on him. No! He's exaggerating and he knows it. You're not like that. But he still wants to look good, especially on your eyes.
When HE succeeds at an exercise, he will be extremely proud of himself and vocalise some on that. And if you praise him for his good work, he will feel both even better and flattered. If he blushes (he will), he’ll hide it from you.
You’ll not be at the same broom. Too dangerous for the both of you.
If you fall from a great height: he would probably already be on the ground for safety in case that happened. He will use magic to slow your fall and then catch you in his arms. “This is why I don't risk going to high.” Once he realizes he's carrying you bridal style, he'll gently set you down, maybe apologize, and try his best not to think about it too much. He needs his focus.
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Coach Vargas chose him because he knows he’s a good tutor and have the profile of one. He just hopes this goes better than with Azul.
Of course, it does! He’s a great and a patinate teacher and you’re a good student despite your difficulties.
When you fail, he’ll be totally chill about it, at least on the outside. He will try to continue improving his teaching to find the best technic for you. You're not as insufferable as Kalim, so he has no problem helping you. And if he has a crush on you, oh the pleasure to be your tutor is all his.
When you succeed at an exercise, he will not just congratulate you, he will do that with his rarest and biggest smile. As if that conquest belonged to both of you. As you are one of the few people who genuinely appreciates his work, you deserve that smile.
If you start praising his work as a teacher, he'll hide his blush with his hood and tell you that's nothing special, that you are the one who is a good student.
If you are on the same broom for him to make a demonstration, he will be behind you with his hands on yours to show you how to control the broom. He genuinely believes that's one of the best ways to teach you, but he needs to concentrate on the teaching and not on your positions. He is a mix of blush and smug.
If you fall from a great height: he would probably already have made one our multiple plans in case that happened. He´s ready for anything. He will catch you with no problem and make 100% sure you're okay. Maybe he's not blushing for holding you in safety because he probably already made something similar with Kalim or so. The fact that it's you it’s just a sweet and delightful bonus for him.
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Coach Vargas chose him because, like Riddle, his one of the best students in the class and have chances to be a good tutor.
And like Riddle, he is a great tutor, strict, but good. Just put the extra that besides him wanting to teach how to fly on the broom, he's also teaching you how to look fabulous doing it. No one tutoring by him will look sloppy on a broom!
And if he has a crush on you: EXPECIALLY YOU need to look as beautiful as he sees you.
When you fail, he’ll sigh and do a mix of incentivise you and demanding you to keep trying. “Come on, my spudling, you can do better than that. Put it a little more effort.” The “my” part is if he has a crush on you ;)
When you succeed at an exercise, he will congratulate you. He’ll maybe even tell you he’s proud of you. But then he will keep demanding more for you to reach your full potential. His way of caring.
If you are on the same broom for him to make a demonstration, he would be the one in command, and you would be holding onto him from the back. He'll tell you to grab on tight and don't fall. As fi you could control that part. And then to pay attention.
If you fall from a great height, he will catch you flawlessly. And then scold you. Telling you that that’s why you should have a good posture on the broom. Looking elegant was just a plus. Weren't you listening? Unfortunately for you (or not), the more he scolds you means the more he likes and cares about you.
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Coach Vargas chose him because of the same reason he could have chosen Azul. sometimes is good to pairing two people that are equally struggling to help each other, for them being more comfortable with someone at the same level.
If he has a crush on you… NOPE! NOPE! NOPE! NOPE! NOPE! Coach Vargas can’t do this to him. Besides being a total noob and already being humiliated in the public square during classes, now he has to do it in front of you? He never selected the hard mode on this! Please assure him that it's ok and you will not think less of him for that.
Do you REALLY want to learn how to fly? I mean, you could just try to hide from everyone and pretend you don't exist until the end of the class. He can compensate you somehow for dragging you with him. Make sure you don’t fail at the class.
What? You want to learn how to fly AND help him too?! Damn you really are a weirdo, hum? Hey, don't get him wrong, better than being a normie. F-fine… he will try… but don't complain if you both fail the class because of him.
When you fail, he'll probably start telling you things like "See, this kind of stuffs are nightmare-mode for noobs like us." and "Keep trying will just be a bad-management of HP." But don’t listen to him. Be as stubbornly positive as he is stubbornly negative. Even if is just to prove him wrong. Nail that level!
When you succeed at an exercise, Pum pum pum pum pum, level up. But for real now, he will probably say something like you levelled up. If he was indifferent to you, he couldn't care less about it and would keep saying that's just a waist. But because he does like you and maybe even has a crush on you, he will be more like: “W-wow, you actually did it! That’s so… um cool… An achievement unlocked for sure!” He’s actually impressed by you.
You’ll not be at the same broom. Too dangerous for the both of you.
If you fall from a great height, he’ll probably panic, but will still be able to cast a spell to save you and make you land carefully on the ground. “Y-y-y-y-you okay?” He’s more scared than you. Once you assure him that you're fine, he’ll look sulky and be like: “This is like one of those traps for greedy players and none of us have high enough HP or AC for that!”
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Coach Vargas chose him probably because he (like anyone) could tell that you two were close and feel comfortable with each other. Plus, he also being one of the best in class. Since he can also fly WITHOUT a broom.
He’ll try his best, but he will not be a good teacher. This because he flies instinctively. And it's hard to teach someone how to do something when you just… do it.
That and he will probably past more time admiring you and your effort and talking about humans not being able to fly and other subjects that actually teach you. He’ll basically forget you two are still on a class.
When you fail, he'll not think much of it. After all, you’re a human who doesn’t know how to fly and you don’t have magic. In fact, he's more expecting you to fail that you succeed. (“No, really, you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about. I wasn´t expecting anything from you to start with.” Remember?)
When you succeed at an exercise, he’ll be surprised. A good kind of surprised, despite if he trying to express it, would not sound so congratulative. More like: for a human with no magic that was indeed impressive. And of course, he will be smiling with proud at you.
If you are on the same broom for him to make a demonstration, he will be behind you with his hands on yours. To show you how to control the broom? Maybe. But maybe more just because he wanted to be this close to you, like his hugging you. He’s also behind you because is the best way to protect you as well.
If you fall from a great height… what great height? No matter how high you would fly, he will be right next to you. In or out his broom. If you fall from your broom, he’ll catch you right there. It will feel more like a fall from the bed. And he will be enjoying you safe on his arms maybe too much. “Um… you can put me back on my broom now, Tsunotarou… I’m fine, I promise.” With him, you will be the one blushing.
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If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
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f1haaland · 11 months
Note
could you do fernando alonso imagine where he’s a sugardaddy and she’s a student in college ? reader is around 22 and the relationship originally started out with no feelings just sex, because he had a no falling in love rule, but then they both fall in love with each other ? thank you 💕
𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 / 𝑭𝑨𝟏𝟒
pairing: sugar daddy!fernando alonso x fem!reader
word count: 3.0k
author's note: shout out to my girl @loomiscorpse who help me during the creative process of this one 🤎 also, i went a little different with the "no falling in love rule" but nothing crazy
warnings: significant age gap (reader is 22, fernando is 41), brief mentions of sex, brief descriptions of oral (female receiving), not meant for minors.
reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. support your content creators!! 🫶🏽
➜ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚 𝟏 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ༓  ༓ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·
You decided to follow one of your friend's tips and find a different kind of financial help. At first, you thought it was bullshit, but after you saw her getting tons of money, wearing different designer clothes every day, and going to all the most expensive places, you just needed to know her secret. There's no way a college student could afford all that, you thought. And when she opened up to you about her "sugar relationship", you thought the worst. That's prostitution, but she promised you it wasn't. She swore she wasn't sleeping with her so-called "sugar daddy". So you decided to give it a try and find one for yourself.
She got you into an exclusive website, where you found some rich older guys who were looking for company and a young girl to spoil. Some of them reached out to you, but they were kinda boring, and their interests were only about wine, golf, etc. When you came across a Formula 1 driver, you thought he would be one of those guys, that he would want to talk to you about vintage cars or his career. Unfortunately, you didn't know anything about cars, nor about F1, but when you started to chat, he never mentioned anything about cars or his professional life. Not once.
You frequently chatted with him on that website, but you had no idea how to approach the only subject that mattered to you; money. He was so nice to you, you didn't want to seem like a gold digger. Eventually, he started to tip you, and you didn't even ask for anything. He invited you to dinner, and you got a chance to know each other better. One dinner turned into another, and another, another... And he bought you small gifts, mostly pretty dresses that you wore for him every night you were supposed to meet each other.
Today you wore a silky green gown he gifted you the last time he took you to dinner. You entered the restaurant, giving the name "Alonso" so that the waiter could take you to your table.
This time he chose an italian restaurant, where you'd be eating to candle lights. He was a romantic man... even if he kept you waiting for half an hour. And while you sat there all alone, you sipped on an expensive glass of wine that cost almost your entire rent, that he obviously would pay for making you wait.
"I'm so sorry it took me so long, hermosa..."
His voice captured you. Fernando had a thick spanish accent, that apart from his looks, you thought was the sexiest thing about him. Of course, you were there for the money, but you were not blind. You felt lucky that you got yourself some sort of sponsor that was not only very nice, but very handsome as well.
He greeted you with a kiss on each side of your face. He carried a strong, masculine, scent of sandalwood, that impregnated your nostrils.
"If you were so busy we could've had dinner another time" You watched as the spaniard took a sit on the other side of the table.
He frowned, obviously feeling your discontent "I had a couple of stupid interviews to give, I just didn't know it would take so long. I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, Y/n"
"Sure..." You pondered, drinking your wine.
"And how's my favorite lawyer doing?" He tried to cheer you up.
"I'm not there, yet" You bit back a grin, your need for validation feeling quite happy with the title, "But I'm okay, I guess"
"What about college?" He asked, and called out for one of the waiters to bring in more wine for you both.
"Hmm... One of my professors is in need of an assistant, and it's paid work. It's not much, but it will help me a lot with rent, and the tuition, and..."
"Won't that get in the way of your studies?" Fernando interrupted you.
You could lie to him and tell him it wouldn't, but Fernando was no dumb man. And honestly, you were getting tired of having to look for small jobs every time the money got tight. You even thought of selling one of the dresses he gave you so you could pay for your college tuition, which was... pretty late.
Your silence spoke for you.
He sighed, "Why don't you ask me for anything?"
How could say you needed the money? Well, you got there because of it, but you didn't have the guts to ask for it.
"I don't know..." you muttered.
"You don't know?" Fernando questioned, "Y/n, I want to give you those things! The money means nothing to me. I won't let you be someone's assistant and have no time to study. Let me handle your college tuition, and your rent, okay?"
That was too good to be true. Fernando was too good to be true. He wasn't asking for anything and wanted to give you everything. But if there's one thing you learned being a law student, is that everything has a price.
"What can I do to pay you back?"
Fernando chuckled, "You catch things real quick, don't you? You're going to be a great lawyer" He gave you a flirtatious wink.
"Fernando." Licking your lips, you voiced in an accusatory tone, "I'm not a whore."
He frowned, quite offended by your statement "Y/n, it's not like that, I would never think that of you. Don't ever say that again."
"But you gonna ask me to sleep with you, aren't you?" You inquired.
"No..." Fernando smirked, "...unless you want me to ask you to." He purred in a low voice.
And then, it was like all the noises around you vanished. You both were there, at the restaurant, and suddenly you weren't. You couldn't recall how you got to his hotel room.
And you thought there would be some doubt or regret, anything that would make you stop it, but instead, you overflowed with lust and desire through your veins as his hands touched you, squeezing your thighs and ass. You deep sighed when his wet kisses found their way from your mouth to your neck, leaving bites on your soft spot. You almost moaned.
Fernando turned you on your back against the wall and unzipped your dress to help you out of it. His lips sucked on your skin, leaving remains of his devotion marked on you. He turned you back to him, slipping the silky fabric through your legs. Unconsciously, you covered your breasts as soon your dress touched the floor, and your intimacy was protected only by black laced panties.
He looked into your eyes, searching for any signs of hesitation in you. You startled him by attacking his lips in an urge, as the hands that once covered your breasts now tangled onto his hair. He lowered his lips to your chin, neck, and collarbone until eventually, they found your sensitive nipples. He sucked and bit on them until you became a whining mess, begging him to go lower. And he did as you asked, kneeling in front of you and placing one of your legs above his shoulder. A breathy moan escaped from your throat as soon as his wet tongue touched your warm core.
He made you cum three times that night. If you were being honest, your expectations weren't too high, and he gave you the best sex of your life.
When you thought it couldn't get better, there was the aftercare. There were the calls, the messages, the surprise gifts. He would always send someone to take you anywhere you wanted and pick you up as well, and when you got home, there were lots of flowers waiting for you. Chocolates. Clothes. Jewelry. He gave you everything you could ask for, and for none of it you did.
And most importantly, he listened to you. During your calls, you talked more about your essays and the constant university environment stress than he shared about his work and personal life. He liked to listen to you babbling about attorney shit that you learned during your classes. He admired your brain more than your body, and for that, you felt seen.
Fernando was different from every man that you ever had in your life. There weren't many, as you always prioritized your studies and never had much time for dating, but you had a couple of dates during your first year in university. You thought the rich people from your college would treat you like one of them, that they wouldn't care that you were not from a wealthy family because it wouldn't matter. But the boys only used you for fun, and the girls ignored your existence.
Fernando made you forget all that.
As the months went on, you eventually got attached to him. You missed him terribly when he was away. You even took some of your free time to study Formula 1, so you could understand a little more of his world and his passion for motoracing. You started to follow the races so you could cheer for him, blushing and giggling like a teen schoolgirl every time his face appeared on tv, or screaming excitedly every time he made it to the podium.
Even when he was away, you felt like you weren't alone anymore.
With time, you noticed that Fernando had established some unvoiced boundaries; You never really slept together. After sex, he'd let you sleep in his arms, but he would leave the room once you were snoozing. On your free days, he would take you traveling with him for the races, but never to the races. He'd leave you at the hotels, with his credit card so could go shopping if you wanted to. Perhaps he just didn't want to be seen with a woman at the paddock, but you never asked why, and you never asked him to take you there.
And then he surprised you.
Fernando was having a great time after he qualified on pole in Monza, so he took you to celebrate with him at his favorite restaurant, which he had reserved just for you both for the night.
But in the middle of a conversation, Fernando handed you an envelope.
"What's this?" You questioned, having it open.
After finishing reading the pieces of information written on the paper, you glanced up at him through lowered lashes.
Fernando cleared his throat, "You're a law student, so I'm hoping you won't be offended by it"
"You're having me sign an NDA?"
You tried to sound less hurt and more unbelieving, but the crack in your voice was giving away how you felt about the non-disclosure contract in your hands.
"Y/n, It's just proceedment. Actually, my lawyer said I should have asked you to sign this sooner." Fernando insisted, placing a pen on top of the table.
You peeked at the paper again, finding a very intriguing paragraph.
Clause 3: The relationship between the parties is entirely "professional", not being considered a romantic relationship.
Clause 4: The parties are obliged to keep the relationship strictly professional, in which, romantic feelings affect the breach of contract.
"The breach of any present clause will be considered a breach of contract, in which the parties must terminate the contact immediately." You read it out loud, "Jesus, Fernando! You're basically rubbing in my face that there's nothing serious between us!"
Fernando frowned, confused, "Is that a problem?"
Yes.
Your heart ached. You remembered the calls, the laughs, the intimate conversations, everything and every moment you shared with him.
Why am I so bothered by this?
That's when it hit you.
I'm in love with him.
You haven't even signed the contract yet and you already breached it.
Yes, that is a problem.
"No" You noted, dryly, "Except from the fact that makes me feel objectified. Like I am your whore."
"I asked you not to–"
He went silent once you grabbed the pen and signed the contract right in front of him.
"Thanks for the dinner, Nando. I'll meet you back at the hotel." You murmured before leaving the table.
You were officially forbidden to fall in love with him, like it wasn't obvious before with all the secret affair stuff. And now, you had to deal with your feelings or lose him forever.
Fernando stayed at the restaurant and ate dessert alone. He felt bad for offending you and wondered if the non-disclosure agreement was really necessary. It's been months and not once have you exposed him, nor questioned his decision to not go out with you in public.
Why would you?
Why wouldn't you?
Oh, now he felt bad about it.
Once he got back to the hotel, he went to your room to apologize. Fernando found you in bed, curled up and snoozing, still in the same dress you wore at dinner. He could have just left the room and closed the door, but laid with you, wrapping you in his arms and finally, for the first time, sleeping in the same bed with you.
You never spoke about the contract again, but you noticed how things started to change after that. He took you to the paddock for the first time so you could watch a qualifying session. He took you shopping with him, not minding the risk of being caught by a paparazzi. You held hands in public. He kissed you. He did all the things you thought it was forbidden for boundaries. And still, there was nothing but professionalism between you.
You were good at pretending. You were good at smiling even when something bothered you, at lying when something hurt you, and at doing something even when you didn't want to. You got there for the money but stayed for him.
But you couldn't take it anymore. Every week there was tabloid news where there were rumors of him and many different women, and none of them were you. Fuck, even Taylor Swift was one of them, but not you. You were nobody. He was somebody.
You had to let him go.
Once more, Fernando took you to a private dinner. This was the last you were going to see each other before he left for Abu Dhabi, but you had planned this to be the last time you'd see each other ever again.
"It's a shame you have to stay for your finals, I really wanted you to come with me." Fernando gushed, "The last time you went to see a race, I won. Maybe you're my lucky charm."
"Stop."
Fernando went silent. You took a deep breath and chose your next words carefully. You didn't want to hurt him, but you also didn't want that situation to hurt you even more.
"We can't do this anymore, Fernando" You looked down at your own hands, too afraid to face him, blinking to keep tears from falling, "I can't take it."
"You can't...? Y/n, what's going on? I thought you liked this. What is the problem, cariño?" He questioned, quite worried.
"The problem is that I like this!" You raised your head to look at him. The tears fell from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks ungovernably.
Fernando frowned, "I don't understand..."
"I like this!" Sobbing, you wept your tears, "I love the things you gave me! The things you did for me..."
"Did I do something wrong? Have I not given enough?"
You shook your head, sniffling "No. I signed the NDA. We must end this."
"So is this about the contract? Fernando speculated.
"Fernando..."
"If it's money, we can do something about it. I don't know, I can give you an allowance or something, but–" He pleaded, "–please don't do this. Don't leave me."
"I'm so grateful for you, but no money in the world is capable of buying me what I really want"
He pried, "What do you want, Y/n?"
"You!" you bawled, "Shit, no designer dresses are compared to the way you kiss me! There's no jewelry, no fancy restaurant, no expensive hotel that gets close to the way you make me feel. I love you so much..."
"You love me?"
"...more than I can put into words, Nando."
Fernando stared directly into your eyes like you were in a staring contest. He analyzed every inch of your face, capturing your features like a photograph. His face didn't show any clue about what was going on in his mind. He didn't say a word. He just stared, and you couldn't look at him anymore. You felt rejected.
"It's okay, I know you don't feel the same, I know I'm not the kind of woman you would fall in love with. I get it. And, as you said, I'm a law student, the contract said..." You started another sentence without looking at him.
"You don't get it, do you?" He interrupted, getting over your words, "I do like you, y/n. In fact, you're the exact type of woman that I would fall in love with, and I did. Otherwise, you think that I would be taking you to places where you would be seen with me? I've been treating you like a girlfriend for ages by now." He beamed, gazing up at you. "The contract is over, ok? After that night, I felt miserable, knowing that I hurt your feelings and never gave it to my lawyer, so let's forget all this contract thing and move on. What do you think?"
Fernando was calm. You could see this in his eyes, and also, he was telling the truth.
"You should've told me that..." You grinned, still sobbing, watching him take your hands in his, "I've been faking smiles, silently comparing myself with all those girls that are rumored to be dating you, Nando. You don't know how terrible and hurt I felt..."
Fernando pressed a kiss on the back of your hand and entwined your fingers to his.
"It doesn't matter. You're the one for me. The only one I want."
· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ༓  ༓ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·
read a spin-off about this story here
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yazthebookish · 2 months
Text
House of Flame and Shadow
Prologue and Chapter 1 reading updates
(Warning: spoilers below!!)
Prologue (Lidia's POV)
Morven and Einar are pieces of shit.
I guess Cormac is gone for good 💔
At least we got some descriptions of how some of the other Asteri look like. It still bothers me Rigelus chose the form of a 17-year-old boy. Ugh what a creep.
"Quinlan and Athalar are mates. She will return to this world because of that bond. And when she does, she will go straight to him."
THEY 👏🏼 ARE 👏🏼 MATES 👏🏼
"Athalar and Baxian dangled unconscious from the ceiling, their torsos patchworks of scars and burns. And their backs..."
The Asteri better start counting their fucking days.
"Lidia couldn't look at the third figure hanging between them. Couldn't get a breath down near him."
UGH!!!!
"Baxian still hung unconscious. Pollux had beaten him into a bloody pulp last night after severing his and Athalar's wings with a blunt-toothed saw. The Helhound didn't so much as stir."
Pollux I hope you'll burn in the deepest pit of Hell and get to have the worst death in the history of SJM character deaths.
"They'd never spoken mind-to-mind outside of their dreaming, but she'd been trying since he'd arrived here. Again and again, she'd cast her mind toward his. Only silence answered."
This sounds a whole lot like a Daemati. Like I'm still not sure if she is but it seems like it.
---
Chapter 1 (Bryce's POV)
"The darkness seemed inherent to the three people standing across from her: a petite female in gray silk, and two winged males clad in black scalelike armor, one of them-the beautiful, powerful male in the center of the trio— literally rippling with shadows and stars. Rhysand, he'd called himself. The one who looked so much like Ruhn."
Let's fucking gooooo!!
"You said your name is Bryce Quinlan. That you come from another world —Midgard." Rhysand murmured to the winged male beside him. Translating, perhaps.
Yes Rhys show us how useful your Duolingo lessons were.
Rhys seems to be agitated about her.
Master of spinning bullshit, indeed. "So maybe I'm here for that. Maybe the sword sensed that dagger and ... brought me to it." Silence. Then the silent, hazel-eyed warrior laughed quietly. How had he understood without Rhysand translating? Unless he could simply read her body language, her tone, her scent—The warrior spoke with a low voice that skittered down her spine. Rhysand glanced at him with raised brows, then translated for Bryce with equal menace, "You're lying."
Bryce, honey, that's the Spymaster of the Night Court.
"I just watched my mate and my brother get captured by a group of intergalactic parasites," she snarled. "I have no interest in doing anything except finding a way to help them." Rhysand looked to the warrior, who nodded, not taking his gaze off Bryce for so much as a blink. "Well," Rhysand said to Bryce, crossing his muscled arms. "That's true, at least."
Not Azriel functioning as Rhysand's personal lie detector. Impressive though.
" I do not pry where I am not willingly invited." Bryce lurched back in the chair, nearly knocking it over at the smooth male voice in her mind. Rhysand's voice. But she answered, thanking Luna for keeping her own voice cool and collected, "Code of mind-speaking ethics?"
LOLOLOLOLOL 🤣🤣🤣🤣
"So this is it, then. This is where we-the Midgard Fae— originated. My ancestors left this world and went to Midgard. .. and we forgot where we came from."
The theory I had since before even HOSAB came out is finally confirmed. I mean it was semi-confirmed in HOSAB but some readers still debated it.
The corner of Rhysand's mouth curled upward. "We will not torture it from you, nor will I pry it from your mind. If you choose not to talk, it is indeed your choice. Precisely as it will be my choice to keep you down here until you decide otherwise."
Bryce couldn't stop herself from coolly surveying the room, her attention lingering on the grate and the hissing that drifted up from it. "'ll be sure to recommend it to my friends as a vacation spot."
Of course Rhys has to pull the "choice" speech whenever he can 🤣 also, BRYCE LOL!!!
"You haven't seen it in fifteen thousand years, or spoken this language in nearly as long-which lines up pertectly with the timeline of the Starborn Fae arriving in Midgard."
So they exist in the same timeline then but Midgard happens to be more advanced.
"It is in our history, Rhysand," Amren said gravely. "But the Asteri were not known by that name. Here, they were called the Daglan."
Asteri are the Daglan, we guessed as much in HOSAB but that's another theory confirmed now!
"Azriel, without Rhysand to translate, watched in silence. Bryce could have sworn shadows wreathed him, like Ruhn's, yet... wilder. The way Cormac's had been."
Ruhn's darkness seemed more similar to Rhys, but Cormac was close to what we know of Shadowsingers. But if Shadows are an Avallen Fae's gifts then how is Azriel one? We're told Shadowsingers are not specific to any courts but there are no Shadowsinger Fae in Midgard than Avallen Fae. But Azriel has a unique way with his shadows (given that magic is more powerful in Prythian.
"The Veritas orb?" Amren said, and Azriel lifted an eyebrow.
Oh damn.
Rhysand mastered himself, a cool mask sliding into place. "You live in such a world." It wasn't entirely a question. But Bryce nodded. "Yes." "And they want to bring all of that ... here." "Yes." Rhysand stared ahead. Thinking it through. Azriel just kept his eyes on the space where the orb had displayed the utter destruction of her world. Dreading-and yet calculating. She'd seen that look before on Hunt's face. A warrior's mind at work.
She showed them the destruction and all the weapons the Asteri have. She even showed them Rigelus. Rhys, Azriel, and even Amren seem at a loss for words.
Bryce examined the silver bean that lay smooth and gleaming in her hand. Amren said without looking at her, "You swallow it, and it will translate our mother tongue for you. Allow you to speak it, too." "Fancy," Bryce murmured.
Of course they have a pill for translating any language and here we've been pondering about how they would communicate.
Amen turned to Rhysand and said in that new, strange language -their language: "The glowing letters inked on her back... they're the same as those in the Book of Breathings."
Oooooh Leshon Hakodesh 👀
Then Azriel said in a soft, lethal voice, "Explain or you die."
Holy hell that's hot—I mean—Azriel that's not a way to treat a woman chill the fuck out.
---
And we got to the end. This is what SJM only had available on her website. 4 more days until I get the full book and continue then 🤩!!
Also, Azriel's shadows seem to be around and thriving after all 😌 I recall being told they're gone for good based on HOSAB's ending, not that I took it seriously Lol.
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vulpisnocturna · 6 months
Text
Bloodstained Rubies - Chapter III - Recalcitrance
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Read on AO3
Masterlist
Warnings: controlling behaviour, Yandere Chrollo, captivity, non-con touching, emotional manipulation, psychological manipulation
Word count: 5k
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Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty-six hours stuck with Chrollo Lucilfer. Fourteen days in which you had done nothing but scream at him and hit him in vain. He just looked at you with that placid smile, asking you if you were done with your “tantrum”. You had stopped fearing for your life, because it was clear that whatever you did, he had a strict policy against physically harming you. Restraining you, psychoanalysing you, trapping you in his arms and chipping away at your sanity, however, were all fair game.
Every night, he would carry you to bed and trap you against his body, and you would flail your limbs like a caged animal, hitting him again and again, which hurt like hell every time. Your legs and arms sometimes had bruises from hitting Chrollo. After a while, you couldn’t stand the pain anymore, and you exhausted yourself from trying so hard, which would always result in you falling asleep despite promising yourself that this time, this time you’d stay awake. And then, you would wake up in the morning with his arm around your waist and his head against yours.
Chrollo had bought you more clothes. If they could be called such. He had a clear predilection for thigh highs, which he claimed would keep you warm in the late October chill. That was hardly the case, since he had bought you a myriad of skirts that barely even covered your ass, and the blouses he chose always seemed to have some sort of defect. Such as a jumper that was backless, a top that exposed your cleavage too much, one that didn’t cover your stomach. Dresses were also a staple. Classier than the other options, they were now what you chose when you were free to make a decision. They were very feminine, ranging from ones that accentuated your waist to ones that exposed your legs or had a cowl neckline that would show your boobs if you dared to bend over.
But the worst was the underwear. He did not see it, so why was he so hellbent on making you wear the most daring lingerie known to humankind? Lace had replaced cotton almost completely, in the form of black bralettes that barely even supported your breasts and uncomfortable panties that showed off your ass.
That day, Chrollo had decided to grace you with a day of peace, saying he was going to meet with the Phantom Troupe for another heist. The Spider, as he also called them, was his friend group. And lo and behold, they were all murderous thieves. Chrollo had had no problem telling you he was a world-class thief when he had first come back with a mountain of antique books for the both of you. From Austen to Shakespeare to Nietzsche, he had stolen all of them, and handed you the most gorgeous edition of Pride and Prejudice you had ever seen in your life, telling you he had pocketed it just for you because upon stalking you -making your acquaintance, as he referred to it, he had discovered you loved it.
And then, as though that wasn’t enough, he had insisted you have conversations about the books you were reading. He seemed to love reading as much as you did, which only irked you. He liked sitting down on the sofa in front of the fireplace and read, inviting you to sit on his lap –which you reacted to with the same zeal of someone who had been offered arsenic, sitting on an armchair as far away from him as possible, but still close to the fireplace, because your attire made it so that you were cold most of the time. Which you had come to realise was also a ploy for you to seek out Chrollo’s body heat. The fact of the matter was that Chrollo was disgustingly cunning. As delusional as he was, he was a strategist at heart, and conniving as they came.
You wouldn’t be able to get through a chapter that he would ask you this or that, and did you think Hamlet struggled with inaction because by exacting revenge he would irrevocably be cloaking himself in his uncle’s corrupt morality; and did you agree that Odysseus’ decision to rejoin his family instead of marrying Nausicaa was the ultimate confirmation he had shunned his hubris and embraced mortal humility? And what was your opinion on Dante’s arrogance in casting himself as the judge of sin in placing individuals in hell, purgatory, or heaven, therefore setting himself up to be God?
Pretentious as he was, Chrollo read all kinds of books. From classics to philosophy to shōnen manga to sci-fi, from romance, fantasy, noir, and psychological thriller all the way to mystery. He was particularly grating when he read romance, because he seemed to infer that whatever he read could be applied to you. From romantic gestures such as buying you flowers to saccharine, obscure love letters you found in the books you were reading, all the way to attempts at seduction that made your stomach tighten in a noose. Not only because he was so wretchedly attractive and sounded enticing too, but also because you despised him and feared he would get more and more brazen with his physical touches.
He had already started to wrap his arms around you, kiss your cheeks, your forehead, the top of your head. Sometimes, he sat next to you on the sofa and trapped you next to him, forcing you to “cuddle” with him.
Regardless of that, that day was a blessing for you in a whirlwind of rage, fear, anxiety and vigilance: you took a long, hot shower, not worrying he might burst in if he thought you were taking too long and using the bathroom to “avoid” him, you made breakfast and actually slumped on the sofa with a book without having to keep an eye on what he was doing at all times, you took a nap by yourself and checked the house over and over again for exits and weapons.
You found nothing, and some drawers you couldn’t open, which you had come to deduce was because of his kleptomaniacal superpower- or Nen, as he called it. No knives, no scissors, no hammers or poisons or daggers. It was a baby-proof house. You were in a very tall building, which meant you couldn’t break the windows and jump. The front door was locked, and you did not have enough strength to kick it down, nor anything to break it apart. Your phone was nowhere to be found; his had a weird system of recognition that wouldn’t let you in. He had no laptop that you could find either.
By the time you had finished exploring, you were exhausted once again, and gave up for that day, making yourself a cup of tea and sitting down with another book. It had now become your coping mechanism, a form of escapism from the reality of your life. You thought of your friends and family, and whether they had declared you missing and started an investigation. But you knew it would be fruitless, because Chrollo Lucilfer was too clever, and too familiar with being a criminal. He had told you that you would move country in about two weeks, after he was done collecting things he liked with his horrid friends, and then, it would all be useless, unless you could do something at the airport. Ask for help.
His threat of killing people that might aid you was fresh in your mind, but what were you supposed to do? Even he wouldn’t kill an entire airport full of people, right? Even if he was strong, and fast, and had his Nen, what could he do against all the airport security?
Either way, you would find a way. You couldn’t let this be the end; you couldn’t stand his shit-eating smirk, his self-satisfaction whenever you would talk to him, breaking your silence treatment streak because you couldn’t stand it when he started his pretentious monologues.
Whenever he asked you a question about a book, you had to make a decision: did you want to indulge him and answer the question, or did you want to pursue your silent treatment and endure a monologue of him giving you his opinion, his explanation, like you had no answer and had to be lectured on something?
Somehow, he always knew what buttons to press. He would cut deep into your pride and intellect, pretending your efforts to ignore him meant you did not possess enough insight to aid him in his dilemmas and required him to explain. He made you choose to answer because he knew the alternative irked you more. And then, he would psychoanalyse your answer, musing over your mind as though he were a neurosurgeon dissecting a brain, happily humming to himself as he sought to read you instead of minding his own business.
He always buttered you up with compliments on your intellect and insight after receiving your reluctant viewpoint of his dilemmas, as though you were Pavlov’s dog, who would one day come to him, salivating, eagerly offering your own opinions to receive the meagre reward of his unsolicited praise.
Unless he disagreed, and then, he would rebut your point, cajoling you into a debate that seemed to just delight him to no end.
You let out a deep sigh, gnashing your teeth. Even when he wasn’t there, you could not stop him from invading your mind. You couldn’t concentrate on your book whether you were alone or in his presence, forced to listen to self-aggrandising input.
‘It pleases me to see you so at ease, darling’
You let out a yelp, scrambling to sit up and growing rigid as you eyed him. And just like that, your short-lived pretence of peace came to an end.
Chrollo was sitting on the sofa armrest, wearing that hideous purple cloak that made him look like a cartoonish cleric mixed with an elderly woman wrapped in ermine fur, his hair slicked back like he was preparing to audition for The Godfather and his eternal self-satisfied smirk plastered on his stupidly attractive face.
‘I missed you’ he breathed, walking over to you, ridding himself of his coat in favour of an abstractly striped purple shirt and leather trousers with one belt too many. You got up, glowering at him as you put the oaken coffee table between your bodies like a child might raise a cardboard shield against a knight brandishing a broadsword.
‘I didn’t’ you quipped, because as soon as you had learnt that Chrollo was unaffected by verbal poison, you had poured it in your every sentence, dousing your words with it.
‘Don’t be so callous with me, sweetheart. I brought you gifts’ he chuckled, his long legs closing the gap between you before you could hope to dash away. He closed in on you, and you squirmed away, turning your head as he leaned over your face, but he only changed trajectory and treacherously kissed your jaw instead of your cheek, sending an infuriating shiver down your spine.
‘The possessions of others are hardly gifts’ you barked, and Chrollo tilted his head, letting you place some distance between you.
‘In truth, these cannot be called the possessions of others. I appreciate your steadfast morals, however, these were actually stolen from a long-dead tribe by the government, who sought to make money from it. Stealing them would actually be righteous of me, would it not?’ he mused, smiling lightly as he walked over to the door, where he had left a sizeable crate.
‘Stealing is stealing, and it’s wrong’ you hissed, tired of his foolish arguments on semantics.
‘Spoken like a true preacher, darling. I would love to hear your sermons. Though not nearly as much as I would enjoy seeing you in these’ he said, carrying the crater over to the wooden coffee table and opening it. Your eyes nearly bulged out, setting on the glittering ruby earrings that looked like droplets of blood in the sunlight, on silvery rings with emeralds gemstones shining on the band, on sapphire pendants and bracelets of solid gold.
‘Almost as beautiful as you are, my love’ he said in a mellifluous tone, and you turned your head, almost like a monk slighting temptation, in an analogy you often heard from him as he compared your morals to that of a puritanical priest. Which was ludicrous, considering he was the one who seemed to have an obsession with religious imagery and had several crosses on his outfits.
‘I don’t want anything to do with your kleptomaniacal gifts’ you snapped, and Chrollo laughed lightly, his greedy fingers curling on your waist, pulling you against him even as you fought against him like a cat being bathed.
He stroked your back possessively, feeling the soft mauve chiffon under his hands.
‘This dress is one of your favourites, is it not, darling? You look ravishing in it. Did you know I stole this from a fashion auction? When I saw it, I knew it would be perfect on you. You see now?’ he murmured, pressing his lips on your temple.
‘I don’t have a choice’ you hissed, pushing at his chest, which was like trying to move a tank with your bare hands.
‘Of course you do. You could always not wear anything’ he chimed in, lifting you up and sitting you on his lap, caging you with his arms.
‘I’d rather die’ you bit back, and he held you still, looking at you with those big grey eyes of his, the tip of his nose brushing against your cheek.
‘I would never let that happen, darling’ he whispered, his breath, reminiscent of mint, fanning your jaw.
‘Let me go’ you whined, starting to panic. What was he going to do? You couldn’t move anything but your head in that position.
‘Shh. Be good for me’ he practically purred, his gaze trailing to your lips, his face inching closer. You squirmed, turning your head, but one of his hands left your wrists to tip your chin towards him again.
He closed the distance between you, pressing his lips against yours. You froze, halting your useless struggle, momentarily entranced by how soft and reverential his lips were against yours. He let out a soft moan, tilting his head and keeping yours in place by your nape, his other hand gripping your thigh, keeping you still.
He was gentle and sensual as he kissed you, and you could not deny the shiver that ran down your spine as his tongue traced your lower lip. The temptation of parting your lips and kissing him back was furiously battling the reminder that this was Chrollo that was kissing you, the repulsive man who had kidnapped you, a murderer-
He sank his teeth in your bottom lip and pulled lightly on your hair, and you could not contain a small gasp that gave him the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth. You were lost in the feeling of it, unable to do anything but feel the way he pressed you against him, his fingers curling on your thigh, his hand fisting your hair to grant him better access.
The sensation of pleasure travelling down your body and pooling in your lower stomach should have pulled you in a deeper trance, but it snapped you out of it. Before you could consider the consequences of your actions, your palm had already collided with his cheek with a resounding slap.
He pulled back, and you stared at him, wide-eyed and panting, rage making your cheeks flush with blood. The side of his face was starting to take a shade of pale pink, and you scrambled to your feet, wrenching yourself from him.
His reddened lips curled into a smirk, and he stared at you, getting up. Your eyes briefly caught sight of a bulge in his leather trousers, and you stepped back, disgusted. How could you have let him do that? Why had a small part of you liked it? What the hell was wrong with you?
‘Are you scared, darling? It’s not my reaction to your slap that frightens you, is it? No, it’s the fact that you liked it’ he drawled, his tongue licking his bottom lip. You grimaced, rage surging through you, and you wanted to hit him, wanted to smother him with a pillow and wipe that fucking smirk from his face, and the taste of his lips was in your mouth-
You bolted to the bedroom, locking yourself in the bathroom, furiously brushing your teeth, your tongue, your lips until your gums started to bleed, your eyes brimming with bitter tears as you slid against the door, cradling your head, sniffling and sobbing into your knees.
Minutes passed, and at some point, as you exhausted all your tears, you knew you had to get out, or you would lose your lock privileges. You wiped your tear-stained cheeks, sniffling your blocked nose and turning the lock, wordlessly slipping out of the bathroom, finding him lounging on the sofa in the bedroom, wearing a simple white T-shirt and comfortable black trousers, a book in his hands.
He was stifling. He was everywhere, always in your space, and now, he had kissed you. You didn’t know why, but you had foolishly believed he wouldn’t cross that line. You’d been an idiot.
‘Leave me alone’ you said gruffly, walking out of the bedroom.
But he followed you. You didn’t know why you kept trying to establish boundaries. He clearly had no regard for them.
‘I was patient enough, sweetheart. It’s been two weeks; it’s only natural that I would want to kiss you. And I want you to know that it will happen often from now on. That’s because your pretty lips are beguiling, my love. Better than I dreamt they would be. But don’t fear. You don’t have to stubbornly pretend you find kissing me distasteful. I could tell, darling... though you tried to hide it so fervently’ he said, tone disgustingly self-satisfied as he followed you into the kitchen. You were trembling with rage now, seeing red as you stared at him, your jaw so tight it ached.
‘Would it fucking kill you to leave me alone for five minutes?!’ you screamed, your eyes burning with fury. Chrollo was unperturbed.
‘Because why would you be so enraged at me, if not because you cannot stand your own desires? It must be so difficult to abide by your morals, darling’ he said casually, smirking at you.
‘I hate you! I hate your guts’ you snarled, slamming open every cupboard that was unlocked, finally finding a stash of alcohol. You grabbed a bottle of whiskey and a glass, storming past him towards the sofa, pouring yourself a full glass and gulping a heavy sip of it, wiping your chin and hoping the burning in your throat would make the taste of him and the phantom feel of his tongue disappear from your mouth.
‘You strike me as a lightweight, darling. That is a sizeable glass of whiskey that you poured yourself. Besides, this one is meant to be sipped. You’re doing a disservice to its quality’ he said, appearing in front of you with a glass and pouring himself three fingers of amber liquid.
‘I hope it cost you twenty thousand Jenny’ you hissed, taking another gulp, grimacing at the burning in your throat.
‘Actually, I believe this one was around a hundred thousand Jenny’ he said casually, sitting in the armchair in front of you and crossing his legs. You looked at him, disbelieving for a second, before you decided to ignore him. Who cared if he spent half your monthly salary on a bottle of whiskey. For all you knew, he’d stolen that one as well.
‘You’re not a habit drinker, are you, darling? There was hardly any alcohol in your old house’  he said, and you turned on the TV, covering yourself with a cushion and continuing to drink as you started watching the show that was on, though your attention was not truly on it.
In the meantime, Chrollo had decided he wasn’t close enough to you for his liking, so he plopped down next to you, snaking an arm around your shoulders and pulling you to him. You tried to squirm away, but as usual, it had no effect. So you merely continued to gulp down glasses of whiskey, hoping that at some point, you would pass out and you wouldn’t have to deal with him. Though you feared what he’d do to you if you lost your rational abilities.
He tapped away at his phone, his fingers drawing grating circles on your upper arm.
‘There, that’s enough for now, darling. Any more and you’ll throw up’ he said, prying the glass from your cold fingers and setting it down.
You ignored him again, though it was hard when he was glued to your body and you were cold in that stupid chiffon dress. The heat that radiated from his body was tempting, but you would rather die of hypothermia than cuddle up to him.
You tried to focus on the show, but you were starting to feel a little lightheaded and less perceptive of your body. Less perceptive of how close that sneaky bastard had gotten you to him, taking advantage of the fact that you were unlikely to even notice.
Shortly after, maybe a few scenes that you hardly remembered the dialogue of, the doorbell rang. Your head twisted to it. Police. The police had found you? Nobody ever rang the bell.
‘Relax, darling. I ordered us some food. I’ll be back in a minute’ he said, getting up and putting on his shoes, closing the door behind him. You gingerly stood up, your head swaying lightly, before you made your way to the door, pulling on the handle. Locked. No, not locked. Magically- Nen locked. You chewed on your bottom lip, going back to the sofa. Useless. He was too cautious.
He returned not even a minute after, holding a bag he set on the coffee table, taking out a few plastic containers. You could see rice and yakitori, along with another container with dumplings. Your stomach grumbled at the sight.
‘Have your pick, darling. Anything you please’ he said, and you picked up the container with the dumplings, opening it and breaking apart the chopsticks, ignoring him and going back to the TV show. There was definitely a character called Frank. Or was it Vincent? In any case, you were sure the plot was about a climate apocalypse. That much was clear from the clothes they were wearing.
You wouldn’t compliment Chrollo on his food choices, but it was really good. And you had been very hungry.
And you were also quite drunk now.
Like a blessing from the Heavens, Chrollo left you to eat in peace as he had some yakitori, watching the show with mild interest.
Once you were finished, you took another gulp of whiskey, and Chrollo looked at you, an amused smirk on his face.
‘What are you looking at?’ you barked, glaring at him. His smirk only got more pronounced.
‘Nothing. You are so cute when you’re drunk, darling’ he said, drawing you close to him. Your head was spinning too much to fight back.
‘I’m not drunk’ you said, making your voice sound steady as you got up. Except you must have done so too quickly, because the whole room spun, and when you fell, you magically found yourself draped on his lap, his arm safely wrapped around your torso.
‘How sweet you are, my love. You can’t even stand up by yourself. Let me help you’ he said, possessively pulling you against him, stroking your hair, looking at you like one might look at an interesting art piece.
‘Shut up, Chrollo. Let me go, or I will-‘ you trailed off as his thumb traced your bottom lip, a wolfish grin on his face.
‘What will you do, sweetheart?’ he mused, dipping his head to kiss your throat, soft lips pressing lightly, tantalisingly, to the point where you let out a soft moan.
‘That’s it, darling. You like it, mh? I can make you feel so good, I promise’ he whispered, voice breathy and husky at the same time, teeth nipping at your clavicle, ‘you have no idea how tempting you are, darling. How much I want you’
Your breath faltered, your vision spinning as Chrollo’s hand cupped your ass, a soft sigh leaving his lips just before he started sucking at the base of your throat. You let out a whimper, clutching the fabric of his shirt, pressing your thighs together to quell the throbbing between your legs.
No, Chrollo was- but it felt so good, and you wanted- wanted him to stop? To continue?
You pushed him away with a weak shove, but he relented, smirking at you as you tried to catch your breath.
‘Don’t touch me’ you slurred, getting up, stumbling around on the plush white rug.
‘I had no intentions of doing more than give you a taste of what I can make you feel, my love. You surpassed my expectations.  You are so sensitive, darling. I look forward to continuing this in the future’ he said, and you looked at him, unsure how to answer, before you turned on your heels and stumbled through the corridor, eventually finding your way to the bedroom. You grabbed your shirt and shorts from under the pillow and locked the bathroom door, intending to go to sleep before him.
But when you came out of the bathroom, you saw him already standing in front of the bed, placing a glass of water on your nightstand.
‘What you doing’ you snapped at him, your eyes narrowing. Chrollo let out a soft laugh, straightening up and walking over to you.
‘You will probably have a hangover tomorrow. I am taking precautionary steps to ensure your wellbeing. Don’t worry, darling, I will stay home with you tomorrow, and take very good care of you’ he said, looking so damn pleased with himself. You glowered at him, walking over to the bed and dropping on it like dead weight. The ceiling was spinning wildly, and your body felt very heavy, like it was sinking in the mattress. Your eyelids already felt so heavy.
Chrollo’s arm pulled you in against him, and besides a dissatisfied groan, it was the first night you didn’t have the strength to thrash around and fight him off in vain.
‘Shh, close your eyes, darling. Sleep’ he whispered against your ear, kissing your shoulder. You tried to stay awake, but you soon found it was impossible to do so.
Chrollo smiled, sipping his coffee, his fingers flicking the page, his gaze turning to you. You looked so sweet, sleeping in, not a care in the world, your face peaceful, lips parted as you took slow, even breaths.
It was already late in the morning, but he did not want to wake you up. He was content to let you sleep in, especially when you were cuddled up to him, seeking out his warmth without knowing it. His fingers were playing with your hair, gently stroking it, revelling in the softness of it, and he thought you were such a heavy sleeper. Perhaps it was him who had spent a whole lifetime guarding himself against possible attacks, and seeing someone sleep so peacefully, not wake up at the slightest change in breathing, the movement of a shadow, the hissing of the wind was fascinating to him.
Despite your reservations about him and the fact that you claimed to despise him, you slept so soundly with him. Besides, he thought, uncovering your clavicle, where you were sporting a purple lovebite he’d left you with, you certainly seemed responsive enough to his kisses. It had been difficult to stop himself from pinning you down and hear more of those sweet little sounds you had made for him the night before, but he wanted you to want him desperately. His pleasure was derived from knowing that deep down, you wanted him to touch you, wanted to be his. Just like you had wanted him to suck and bite your bottom lip, even though you’d slapped him out of stubbornness.
But he was not perturbed. He knew you would come around, even though your bouts of anger and futile attempts at hitting him were starting to become aggravating. How could you not see you did not possess enough strength to injure him? Why were you so eager to hurt yourself by thrashing around like a feral cat and hissing at him?
Your life would be much easier if you just stopped denying his affection. After all, he did everything for you, and only wanted you to stop denying him at every turn.
Of course, he could not expect you to reciprocate his feelings so soon, because as a human being, you were likely to retain some resentment towards him because he had taken you with him. But he could not have left you; sooner or later, he would have to travel elsewhere. He had had to take you with him, especially considering how dangerous the world was for you.
And if you stopped being so enraged and resentful, he might even take you outside. He wanted to spoil you, take you to dinner, to see art galleries and libraries and beautiful nature sceneries. But if you couldn’t behave, how was he supposed to do that? You would have to stay home until you could be trusted with behaving in the outside world. After all, it would be inconvenient if you asked someone to aid you whilst you two were outside. He would have to host a bloodbath, and he did not think it would help your perception of him.
Your morals were so clear-cut, it was fascinating to him. You seemed to have such a clear idea of what was right and what was wrong, and that intrigued him. Was it your upbringing? Didn’t he have those because the place he had grown up in had been so cruel? Or was it his inherent nature? You seemed to think him a monster, but were monsters made or born as such?
Chrollo did not know, but he knew you were the key to discovering himself. With you, he could find out anything. He felt whole with you, his emotions were naturally present, he knew what they were and could name them, he did not feel that boundless vacuum inside his heart that seemed to swallow him whole. He could learn so much from you; one lifetime wouldn’t be enough. That was why he had vowed he would find you in every single one.   
Part IV
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sepublic · 2 years
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In Witches before Wizards, it hurt Luz SO badly for Eda to laugh off the idea of Luz being a chosen one. Then in Covention she angsted over being a real witch. And by Enchanting Grom Fright, Luz felt partially motivated to prove she wasn’t weak by challenging Grometheus, only to fail! And then Separate Tides, Luz feels she was a burden for getting Eda captured and losing her magic, and tries to prove she’s not that, only to need Eda’s help in the end.
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...She really must’ve thought that all of these incidents, especially Grom, just certified to Eda that Luz really was just some weak kid; Confirming another worst fear. Luz just has. SUCH a complex about being a burden. About being unwanted. A nuisance. And so she has to be useful, Luz has to bottle up her problems so she’s as low-maintenance as possible. Luz has to be cool and someone people actually like and would want to hang out with! She has to be worthwhile to others, and this entire scene... Where Luz realizes Eda is trying to send her and King away, her RSD leaps at the culmination of all these little storylines from past episodes that stemmed from this fundamental self-doubt!
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So I love this show for having Eda reiterate that it’s not because she thinks Luz is weak, because even the strongest kid in the world shouldn’t handle this, especially not by themselves, and Eda should know because she experienced that herself. Eda doesn’t think of Luz as weak or a burden, Luz and King are EVERYTHING to her and if it comes down to it, they may as well be all that matters to Eda. It’s like before at Grom, when Eda didn’t lord it over Luz that she couldn’t handle Grometheus; Instead she reassuringly tells her it’s okay with zero judgment, and moves to help before Amity barges in with her gayness.
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I feel so bad for Luz because it feels like she’s constantly repenting and apologizing for who she is, for her ‘shortcomings’ as a person and it’s such a good parallel/foil to Philip, who would’ve had a Puritan upbringing that hammered in such a toxic mindset. But Luz at least grew and chose compassion as a coping mechanism, even if she’s gone too far with it at her own detriment. Luz just wants people who would accept her, from who she is to what she has to offer, to believe in her; And after Camila sent her away to summer camp, for her own good, Luz managed to find Eda... The one person she felt she could count on not to do that, because Eda DID let her stay, instead of sending Luz back!
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So this was the ultimate betrayal to her. No shade to Camila nor Eda, they both had their reasons and are both struggling... But again I love this show reiterating that adults are not perfect. That they try but they’ll make mistakes and they don’t always know what’s going on. But they do care and they don’t mean for it to come across that way (which reminds me of being neurodivergent, another aspect of this show). And it really is just about communicating and explaining things to your loved ones, instead of keeping them in the dark. Kids just want respect, especially growing teenagers, so getting that is such a huge coming-of-age hallmark. As is the realization on Luz’s end that Eda doesn’t have it all figured out, as cool as she thinks her mom is; But Luz still wants to be told that and treated as a person that people will talk to and regard seriously.
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...Ah well. As heartbreaking as that fight between student and mentor was, it was also kind of a wonderful show of Luz’s strength and growth, how much her magical prowess has developed to keep up with Eda for even a bit; Which, given how Eda said Luz would have to earn her Palisman by showing her capabilities as a witch...
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Yeah, that pairs very nicely with Eda realizing it’s finally time for Luz to carve her own, and Luz agrees as she decides her future.
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crushedsweets · 7 months
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What about some lulu headcannons since you seem to like her? :)
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oh anon u are spoiling me.... heres a little sketch of her college life. let me begin . . tw for general creepypasta things, abuse, bullying, death, etc
ok. so a lot lulus og stuff is gross obviously (although a majority of the og creepypastas have gross origins/creators). as a kid, i was pretty attached to her, but looking back , its just. ugghhghgh. which is why i want to try giving her her own horror type story while still following some of the core things that made her her. BEGONE WITH MIDDLE/HIGH SCHOOL KILLERS...
lulu is 24 but described as 'physically 14' which bugs me esp bc theres so much emphasis on her body being like an adult. and frankly i am not crazy about yet another 'little kid bullied/abused then goes crazy/demonic' story so i scrapped the bullshit ‘is 24 but looks 14 but is drawn like she’s 24!’. So I decided to just to make make her whole zalgo poisoning occur later in life. since its now set in university, a handful of things changed. mayhaps she knows jack ?
she grew up as a rich girl being put through several private schools growing up. she wasnt the smartest, she wasnt the most social, and while i think that the og story did this really fucking poorly, she did deal with harassment cuz she developed early. ranged from people calling her a slut for the same clothes as a thinner girl, to getting dress coded for no good reason, to rumors, etc. so, she's being bullied by her peers, though its moreso a ton of gossip rather than stuff in her og. overall school sucked for her
finally she goes to university. shes away from all those people, away from her helicopter parents, away from dress codes and loneliness. she tries SO hard to keep up the perfect daughter persona in public bc she knows shes walking on thin ice(having been punished for things out of her control all her life), with a wardrobe full of pencil skirts and button ups, but then she finally meets this guy named josh. but that shit gets seriously exhausting. and as many kids in her position do, she wants to Rebel .. she starts going to parties and whatnot w her edgy ass roommate. random garage shows, raves, generally reckless behavior etc. its not her fully her thing but she's there and having fun.
idk his name in the og story but there was that guy that led her on just to further abuse her. i changed him up and made him some guy in a frat that she met at a rando party. he was so sweet to her the first time they met, they talked for a long time at the party, he was cool overall and she never ever craved attention like this before - she never even GOT attention like this before, coming from an all girls school, so she clung. but he wasnt actually gonna date her, so he said some bullshit excuse about 'you know how greek life is, my frat wont let me date u unless u join this specific sorority!! soz' and he chose the worst, most clique-y sorority that has the most insane hazing ritual for girls that arent sought after. he thought there was no way she'd give it a shot and he could get her off his back. a dick move, but he didnt think she'd do it.
but, she does - and the hazing is fucking shit. the girls in the sorority are worse than the girls in highschool (and maybe in cliché fashion, one of her highschool bullies ended up in the sorority before her?). it starts off as things like 'oh you gotta buy your sorority sisters coffee for a week' to 'oh you have to be drunk/high throughout all your classes for a week' to completely deranged shit like branding yourself or slashing a professors tires. things nobody in their right mind would do, typically.
i havent decided exactly how exactly lulu hits the point where they think she's dead, but a group of sorority girls think she is. they panic, and in their panic cannot feel her pulse or hear breathing. she's completely unconscious, cold, and frankly on the way to death - so they take her to slenders forest and get to work
they bury her in a shallow grave, unaware of all the different demons residing in the forest watching one of the most gruesome displays of humanity. if youve watched girl from nowhere, theres a scene where nano gets buried alive by a group of her classmates then she wakes up . . imagine that.
im thinking, similar to the operator, zalgo can infect people as well . . maybe people on their death beds ? anyway, lulu's infected. long after the girls run off, lulu manages to dig herself out of the grave. shes wheezing, coughing, sobbing, its dark and cold and foggy, and she now has to come face to face with zalgo making some weird 'i saved you, i want something in return.' and there goes her eyes !!! rip lulu. maybe zalgo did it cuz hes a dick, maybe he actually needs human parts to seal the deal.
theres some more interaction but overall lulu doesnt have a ton of demon powers or anything. new wounds heal quickly, but her past ones will never will. she can be eerily quiet, popping in and out with fog, doesn't need food/water/sleep. . she does have kinda crazy strength(no agility or speed), but she's so mentally weak it does nothing for her
for a while she does just wander the forest in complete and utter mourning, until one of the proxies finds her and is like Oh Fuck that's not human. toby describes her as a zombie. so she's another job for them to handle
eventually they settle her in the hospital with ann.. the hospital is likely an area that experiences more fog, being closer to the lake perhaps, so it just makes sense to put her in an area she can see. it took a while for lulu to calm down bc she now has a pretty big fear around women , and the proxies have to CONSTANTLY come around and check in for a while, cuz she feels safer with them. maybe they tried putting her with jack but jack said absolutely the fuck not. bc lulus legitmately scary. she's constantly croaking, crying, wheezing, dripping blood everywhere she goes, etc.
she eventually gets along with ann, who thinks lulus cute and fun to chat with. i made a joke about them doing tiktok dances together but like. i could see it. maybe ann reminds lulu of her roommate, the only girl whos been completely nice to her ? dunno. (despite the roomie being the reason lulu got into the partying and stuff)
mmmmmm yeah. that is basically the entire rewrite .
i likely wont include her too much in the story just because the rewrite is so drastic+shes not all too popular but i used to feel very fondly towards her when i was 10 and i do think her character cconcept is super cool (the fog, the eye stuff, zalgo poisoning etc). theres just hella weird stuff but its a creepypasta from 2013 idk what we expect
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highdreaming · 1 year
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I read the last scenario you wrote and I had an idea from the request , maybe a trio with pedri and gavi but this time it's a love relationship not friendship?
💢 All the works are pure fictions, for entertainment purposes only so please, read it at your own will.
Find more at: Masterlist
Pedri/Gavi x (female) reader
AN: Anon, I suggest you prepare yourself for a sad ending 💔 also I've included here the other anon with the jealous request. Please like, reblog and give me feedback!
--
This is going to be the worst scenario ever. Pedri and Gavi are best friends, practically brothers and it’s so unfair that they had to fall for the same girl.
Imagine: you start off as friends with the boys and as time progresses, not only your friendship with them gets stronger but all of you end up catching feelings for each other.
Your feelings are so confusing cause you genuinely like both boys but deep down, you don’t want to risk your friendship with them over such an insignificant matter so you try your best to ignore your emotions.
But little do you know that the boys also start harboring a crush for you. 
Pedri and Gavi initially keep their crush a secret, not even telling each other about it. 
But it soon becomes obvious that they both like you when another team member mentions how cute you are, only to be met with deadly stares from both boys. 
They are both protective of you, always accompanying you everywhere and hanging out together. 
By this time, fans are more than used to see you always around the boys whenever they get a chance to get an autograph with them. 
They are also quite touchy with you. Gavi always has an arm around your shoulder while Pedri loves to hold out your hand or give you his Barca shirts.
When they have to go play in another place, they make sure to spam you with messages and pictures, so you don’t forget about them. And they always call you whenever they can. 
But Gavi is definitely the clingiest from the two. He’s like a little kid with you and he gets very insecure if you try to ditch him for other friends. Pedri is more mature but he also enjoys your company a lot. 
Initially, they both assume that they’re all just friends and that’s why the other one is being so clingy with you. 
Literally there’s not a single time where you hang out with just one of them cause the other one always finds out and decides to tag along. 
Both of them would end up so exasperated that they can’t get a single time alone with you, cause it’s always the three of you. 
Gavi would probably end up confessing to Pedri that he likes you, oblivious to Pedri’s feelings for you. 
Pedri, as the oldest, would step back and restrain his love for you. He wants Gavi to be happy and if his happiness means not being able to have you, then so be it. 
But then he’d be much colder towards you, your friendship with him getting weaker until he barely talks to you.
Gavi will eventually confess and while you’re beyond perplexed, you do like him back and soon you’re in a relationship with him. 
Don’t get me wrong, Gavi is amazing but you also love Pedri. You know that you could never have both so you shut down your feelings for Pedri, but it doesn’t mean you forget him. 
You still love him dearly yet you chose to move on, but Pedri and your love for him are still deeply concealed in the depths of your heart and he always will.
He’ll be there when you share your first anniversary with Gavi, when you officially wear Gavi’s shirt as his girlfriend in public, when you kiss Gavi down the aisle and Pedri is still there to meet yours and Gavi’s daughter, when she is born. 
Always with a melancholic smile on his face as he sees the love of his life with his best friend. 
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intoxicated-chan · 3 months
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𝐘𝐨𝐮❜𝐫𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐌𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞
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Summary ➳ Thranduil’s words ring in your head as reality of your immortality hits. You should’ve known that it was too good to be true.
(A/n) ➳ Inspired by “Rolling in the Deep” by Adele. This is going to have two other endings, one happy ending and angst ending.
Word Count ➳ 1.4k
Content Warnings ➳ Female reader, Reader is an Elf, pet names (amrâlimê, meleth nîn), heavy angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence…
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Thranduil’s words hit you hard when you were brought in front of him while the rest were locked up. He sat cockily on this throne and spat out words that enraged you right down to the core. But it made sense… You were an Elf, not a half-Elf. You cannot choose between immortality or mortality.
You would walk the lands of Middle-Earth until you were struck down or go to Valinor. Dwarves live long but not close enough to compare to an Elves’s lifespan. Even so… Even after death, Kili will go where you cannot follow.
“If you love him, and you are confident that he loves you. It would be best if you parted ways now or until either of you die on the field.” Thranduil spoke soft and low. “You have enough time in your life to find another or none at all. You will face his death or he will face your immortality. It’s a relationship that will never hold happiness.”
“I can’t go with you Kili.” You pulled your hand from him while stepping back into the direction of Mirkwood. “I cannot continue with you all.”
“W-What do you mean?” Kili was already in pain, was it the adrenaline or the pain throbbing from his thigh that was keeping him from thinking the worst? “Come on, we don’t have enough time. The orcs are on our tail.”
“Let me rephrase…” You took a deep breath to relax your beating heart and to clutch the hilt of your stolen sword tightly. “I’m not coming. This is where my journey ends.”
“You can’t say that! You’re part of the company-!”
“I am part of no company. I came with you all out of pity.”
“You’re lying!”
“This is where it ends for me-!”
“Enough!” Thorin interrupted, marching to you and Kili, he was already angry, tired, and completely drenched. “If she wishes to leave then let her! We have no time to carry dead weight!” He said before turning back to the rest of the Company who were trying to decide what to do.
“(Y/n), surely this isn’t you. You cannot turn back now, we are so close.” Kili pleaded with you, using whatever strength to stand on his own.
“Kili-”
He snatched your hands, holding them together in his own bloody hands to lay a kiss on them. “Please, do not go. Don’t go where I won’t be able to follow. I want you to lay your eyes on my home, I want to do it with you.”
He looked up at you with watery eyes and a tear falling…
Kili then gripped your shirt with both of his hands to pull you down into a frantic kiss. His lips quivered as he held back the urge to burst into tears right in front of you and the rest. “I beg you, amrâlimê.”
“...Goodbye, Kili.” You pulled away once more and could see everyone staring at you. You gave no time for them to say anything, only a silent nod in Thorin’s direction before rushing back to Mirkwood and hopefully talking of leaving the forest the same way you came in, even if it met you’d have to face the spiders again.
You chose to lay down your sword and leave for Rivendell to spend your many years in solace until you were ready to sail to Valinor. You believed that Thranduil informed Lord Elrond that you were on your way since he welcomed you with open arms but he refused to say anything.
There were many Elves, but not once have you attempted to have conversations with them. You kept to yourself, reading, walking, eating and then bed, almost like a pattern.
It continued for months until you received two letters. One from Thranduil and one from Kili. But they were delivered at the same time, the messenger explained that Thranduil let Kili write to you one last time.
Thranduil wrote to you, his words solidified your choice to leave the Company behind. Yet there was guilt still residing since what you said was a lie. You joined because you genuinely wanted to help, you hoped that it would’ve been easier on the rest.
When it came to Kili’s letter, you wanted to push it aside, hoping to read it when you felt ready. But you knew you couldn’t push it back anymore.
‘Amrâlimê,
It has been some time since I’ve last felt your warmth, or heard your voice, or held your hands. I miss the way you speak in rhymes, or stories of your adventures and battles. I wished you too could have laid your eyes on Erebor, and I’m still sure you will love it here. Everyone knows you didn’t mean those words, they didn’t take it to heart. They wish for your return as well, as do I.
I wish to spend the rest of my days with you and you alone, and if I must come and find you then I will. You have my heart, you have me in your hands, and my home isn’t truly home if you aren’t there with me.’
You still had a second page to read but you broke down, sobbing as you held the letter like your life depended on it. You were fighting with yourself, you were desperate to rush back to Erebor and see him.
But Thranduil’s words once again rang through your head. You can go back to Kili but then face his death or you could stay here but still face his death… Either way, he dies in the end. There was no way around it.
Lord Elrond comes into your line of sight, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You managed to slow your tears and clear your throat. “When is the next ship to Valinor going to leave?”
“If you make this decision, you cannot go back.” Lord Elrond warned you. “You still have time to be with him. Do not make a decision you will regret.”
“I’ve had my time, I know my choice. Kili should be with his people.”
“(Y/n)-”
“Kili shall receive my sword, Fili will get my knives, Thorin will have my collection of jewels, and Bilbo will be gifted my journals.” You looked back at the nicely boxed items. “The rest can get a choice of my belongings.”
“You have planned this out from the start, haven’t you?”
“Elves can only love Elves, it’s easier without heartbreak.” You folded Kili’s letter neatly. “I would like to thank you for the hospitality.”
“A group is leaving now.” Lord Elrond can see that you weren’t going to change your mind, he sighed and nodded. “I wish you well (Y/n).”
“Thank you once again, Elrond.” You grabbed your cloak and wrapped it around your shoulders as you left your room and towards the group of Elves leaving for Valinor as well.
‘Kili,
From the day you sought me out and I watched you climb that tree to proclaim how you wished to be with me. Or the hours by the campfire exchanging stories. It saddens me that this will be my final words to you, if there was some other way for us to be together without it being painful then trust me when I say I would run right back to you.
You amazed me each day, the jokes, your skills, you will continue to surprise me from this day and until my last. I will think back to you and your smile, but please understand that my decision is for the best.
With all of my life, meleth nîn. Someday, we shall meet again but not in this world.’
“This is a lie.” Kili slammed his hands on the table. “Where is she?!”
“Kili!” Fili pulled him back.
“I speak nothing but the truth, she left for Valinor, she’s days away if not then boarding the ships.” Elrond informed the two brothers. “Either way, she’s gone, beyond your reach.”
But Kili still refused, he shook his head angrily. “That’s still a chance.”
“You won’t be able to change her mind.” Fili warned him.
“If she wanted to… She would say it to my face.” He rushed off, nearly taking a tumble down the steps.
Fili chased after him, grabbing his arm to stop him. “You heard what the Elf said, she could be boarding the ships.”
“Or days away!” Fili froze as he saw tears swell his eyes. “I cannot let her go, I promised myself that wherever she goes, I will go. I could not do it the first time, but I am now.”
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© Intoxicated-Chan 2023, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.
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demoniccomplex · 6 months
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Love and care in stalking.
-wc: 613 -tw: yandere, stalking, obsessive thoughts, henry struggling to write a yandere Tecchou
i somewhat understand why people have a hard time writing a yandere oneshot for this man oh my god
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Love and care in stalking Tecchou
When you met tecchou you knew already that he cared for you, be it more so on a standard “Must protect civilians and watch out for them” type way, and you never minded it. Even if he stared a little too long, just to watch out a little longer, that's all, right?
Even when he asked you a few odd questions that had nothing to do with the situation that you first met him at. You chose not to mind, after all it didn't hurt to ask a few off questions. Accidental meetings with the man became an uncommon occurrence, you decided to turn a blind eye. Last time you saw the man in person was him getting scolded by his coworker for getting distracted and dragging him to a place that was unimportant. You had also gotten scolded from the man as well, but Tecchou was never listening to a drip of a word said anyways, the soldier’s focus was directly on you. That was the moment it only felt off from there, an uneasy feeling nesting deep inside your chest. It only chewed more on you everytime you thought back on Tecchou himself. But that encounter was a few weeks ago, you haven't seen or met him once after. Even though you two aren't meeting physically, he has his eye on you most days.
Tecchou is careful not to reveal himself in case he scares you off, he knows if he conveniently bumps into you too often you were going to get suspicious. So he stalks until his next opportunity arries, night, day, evening, doesn't matter. You’re doing just fine without him right? Happily going along with your daily life with no issues or concerns. However, Tecchou’s mind is imagining every possible worst thing that could happen to you. His every thought circling back to “what if”, he simply can't risk it. He fell deep into this hole he unknowingly dug himself when he met you and he refuses to get out of it. The lack of in person talking makes him feel stuck and that just leaves him frustrated. Yet the opportunity trails far away from him, never giving him a chance to make this meeting somewhat normal. His frustrations make his work sloppy, Tecchou’s current co-worker gives him a chance to go collect himself since it was bothering the whole team. So he leaves, letting his feet drag him to the only thing consuming his mind every minute, every tick of a second, you. He almost goes to knock on your door, until his mind clicks that if he does this, everything will fall apart, he doesn't have an excuse for this. Tecchou quickly redirects himself a little further away from your home, close enough to stalk and far away to not be caught. Your windows show a peek of your cozy customized home, yet Tecchou managed to make the most of just a peek.
Tecchou wishes how much he could cuddle up next to you and be the best one for only you. Yet it's somewhat blurry to him that he's not actually a part of your life and that he's just another speck of a stranger you’ve met. No, he is your soldier, you do think of him, waiting for another chance to see him just like he is for you. Tecchou pushes away the thoughts that you don't think of him, no you do, right? The thoughts keep swirling, trying to make it clear in his brain. 
Then it settles, you do think of him, he cares for you, you’re gonna think of him just like he does for you.
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dutchdread · 4 days
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Hey Dutch I wonder why I keep seeing some fans say cloud kiss to tifa was hollow ? I guess u call them cleriths or something I knew to all this and just learn about a ship war? Do you believe hollow since he not himself and would the real clown ever try to kiss a girl
Honestly, it's just them coping. Sorry if that's a boring answer, but that's really all it is and I can't paint it in a better light than that, every Clerith response you've seen to the kiss....is the definition of coping. You have to remember some people have been believing that FFVII is the tragic love story of Aerith and Cloud, and that Tifa is "just a friend", for 27 years now. The proper application of critical thought is to look at the evidence and see to which conclusion it leads. These people have started with the conclusion, and then have to force fit the evidence to lead to the place they want it to. Problem is, the more evidence comes out, the harder it is to get it all to fit, so they have to twist and bash it into place. Which is why you get some very bad takes from one side of this argument. Why is Tifa always denigrated? Because Tifa represents an existential crisis to the Clerith world view in a way that Aerith doesn't for Clotis. Same thing with Zack. The reason Cleriths call the kiss Hollow, or say it's optional, or whatever their next plan of attack is, is simply this.
SE decided to give Cloud and Tifa a kiss, and for Clerith to happen, Cloud can't have genuine feelings for Tifa, since she's the one who'll be living with him. So the kiss will have to be twisted and undermined.
But the thing is of course, that no amount of ad hoc rationalization can change the fact that SE CHOSE to give Tifa and Cloud a kiss. It wasn't "braindamaged and confused Cloud" that chose to kiss Tifa, it were the developers. And the question they really have to ask is "why?". Would SE choose to have Cloud kissing Tifa? To illustrate how heartbroken he is over Aerith having feelings for Zack? Are Cleriths really that deluded about how SE would treat its characters? (yes they are, they are that deluded, but they shouldn't be). Or did they decide to show Cloud kissing Tifa because....there is an obvious growing romance between Cloud and Tifa? SE COULD have chosen to give a kiss to Aerith....but they didn't...instead they first gave Aerith and Cloud a scene where Aerith asks him to indulge her fantasies, and then one where Aerith is unsuccessfully trying to recreate her time with another man, and finally a scene of her confirming that while she likes Cloud, there is "like, and like like". Tifa in contrast confirmed that she specifically "like liked" Cloud SEVEN years before the game even started. Aerith at best was still trying to figure that out when she was dying. And at worst (and more realistically) discovered in death that "No, it wasn't like like", which the mere fact that she even had to ask, kinda already betrays what the answer is.
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madwomansapologist · 5 months
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a new side of her | nami
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Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Nami | AO3
synopsis: You didn't trust Nami. You could see right through her. See right through those well thought out words capable of deceiving Luffy. The problem was that you could also see her stiff face, her watery eyes, her accurate fingers. Damned be Nami, her lying lips and your functional eyes.
warnings: smut. erotic dreams. masturbation. accidental voyeurism. oral sex. sixty nine. hate sex. top!nami. female!reader.
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It's not like you wanted to see Nami dead, you just don't wanted to see her at all.
You would make something pretty reckless if you had to see Nami deceiving Luffy one more time. Or if you need to see Nami always checking if anyone was watching her. And Nami guarding her secrets like a knight keeps a promise. Even Nami having those little moments of honesty, what only made Luffy even more sure that she was part of the crew.
And you for sure would something pretty stupid if you had to see Nami walking around the deck with those watchful eyes. Or if you need to see Nami always arguing with anyone who bothered one of you. And Nami being so bossy when Zoro was definitelly about to do something that he would regret. Even Nami quietly apreciating the view, just enjoying the sea's silence.
You both don't get along. Always fighting, yelling at one another, picking on the most unnecessary thing. Nami's orange hair almost floating by the way she gesticuled at you. Your heartbeat silencing the rest of the world. Her eyes burning with rage. Her fingers tapping on the table. Her velvet mouth moving so graciously.
You both don't get along, but that doesn't mean you're fucking blind.
But soon you found that your life as part of the strawhat crew wouldn't be so easy. Not when clowns insisted on kidnapping y'all, or the marines decide that for some reason your crew deserves attention from a vice admiral, or the old ship finally breaking after everything it went through. Ship. That wasn't more than a fucking boat.
You were always trying to invent a new way of winning a fight, helping Luffy with stay quiet for a second so you can help him with whatever he's trying to ask you, trying to make Zoro rest. It was hard for you. A resonable amount of sleep per night? You called that a dream. Privacy? A mith. Time for yourself? Just when you die.
You didn't have time to do any of the things you usually does. No more morning lazyness, or a book with you during your meals, or time to spend with long, hot baths. Or any privacy at night to touch yourself.
That makes you feel a little bit guilty. Your crew barely made out alive from so many conflicts and you're worried about a orgasm or two? Still, it was the truth. You knew that just thirty minutes of privacy and silence would change your mood so quickly, but how could you do that with everyone sleeping at the same place?
It only got worse when all your desire started to invade your dreams. You wake up at night feeling so warm, with your clit throbbing and head spinning. And the worst part was who kept on appearing on your dreams.
Nami wasn't there all times. Sometimes it was a memory from a past experience. Or a situation you always desired to live. A few times characters from books you read were the main actors of many of your wet dreams. But Nami... Nami was starring most of them.
Just another reason for you to hate her even more.
At Kaya's, and you're still surprised that Usopp really knew her, you finally had a chance of enjoying a hot bath. Sleeping on a good, comfortable bed. Eating food made by people that knew what they were doing.
The problem was that you also had the chance of seeing Nami's rested face. Of hearing her singing during her bath. Of seeing her chosing what clothe to wear. Of watching her changing again, and again, and again.
It was like she was trying to prove to you that anything she wear would look pretty on her. And if that was Nami's intentions, fine. She won. You surrender.
"Saw something you like?" Nami woke you up from your daydream. Just then you noticed that you were staring at her on that red dress. Nami had a smirk on her lips, which made you boil in anger.
"Not at all," you tried to act like Zoro. To be mean on purpose, just to make her smirk dissapear. "Quite the opposite, actually."
When you heard Zoro chucking, you thought that maybe it had worked. That your words deceived everyone of what was going on your mind.
And maybe it really did.
But Nami wore the red dress that night.
After Luffy managed to end the dinner sooner, for the first time in a really long time you could lay on bed without anyone calling for help. Without anything wrong happening. It was the first time on a long, long time when you wasn't worried that the silence meant someone may actually be dying.
And with free time, your mind wandered through a lot of places. Of the home you left behind you. Of those boys you just met but still feel like you know them for hoje entire life. Of how many adventures are waiting for you. Of how empty you feel.
You throw the blanket away, finally sure that you have time to do whatever you wanted to. Your hands pressed your breasts through your nightgown, and you tried to find something to think about. You pinched your nipples, they hardened almost immediately, and took a deep breath.
You imagined your hands weren't yours. That your neck was licked, your waste grabbed, your thights bit. You thought about someone looking at you. Seeing more than just you: seeing the way your toes curl when your clit is touched, how you close your eyes when the pleasure is too much, how you try to stop your moans so you won't wake anyone.
The hand on your breasts wasn't yours. The fingers between your thights weren't yours. The tongue warm on your mouth wasn't yours. All those things happening on your mind weren't imagination. They were all true, and were happening all at once.
With your pantie brushing against your hand, you quickly took it off and throw it away. You didn't took your nightgown off, the feeling of the thin layer on top of your hot skin made shivers go down your spine. With the window open, the cold breeze only made you even more sensitive.
Nami didn't mean to enter your room. She didn't mean on seeing your fingers circling your clit, your hand grabbing your breast, your mouth freeing the most obscenes of the sounds.
She really didn't mean that. Nami thought it was a empty room, a perfect place for her to grab old, expensive things to make some money. Nami really didn't mean to invade, to watch, such a intimate moment.
But when she saw you, Nami couldn't look away.
Her mouth went dry. Nami tried to look away, to move her body, to get out of there while you didn't saw her. But her body didn't obey. It just couldn't.
You really were the prettiest thing she ever saw. Since she met you is like your trying to proof it. No matter how many days you have spend without seeing land, or how many times a marine or a clown tried to fight. Pretty. So pretty.
When you chose your clothe from Kaya's closet, Nami tried so hard to not look. To not pay attention. But it was impossible the second you asked how you looked.
Nami didn't knew enough words to really explain how you're as exquisite as the princesses on fairytales.
And she hated you for that. She hated you for being so aware of her lies, of her intentions, of her flaws. She hated you. And she hated how bad she wanted you.
So when she was suppossed to runaway, all Nami was able to do was to keep on looking. To keep on watching you.
Until you saw her.
"Na-Nami," your whisper was almost a moan. You closed your legs, your thights slapping loud. Nami forgot how to breath. "How long have you been..."
"Long enough," Nami said before you could finish. She could only see your sweaty skin, dazzy eyes, messy hair. Nami couldn't stop looking at you. She could spend her whole life just looking at you. "Do you want me to get out?"
"What?" You swallowed hard, your vision blurred. Your mind was so dizzy, shame just ate your last functioning brain cell. "Yes...?"
"But do you really?" Nami finally was able to move. She dropped the bag on her hands filled with things she was about to steal. They didn't matter anymore.
"I heard you," she closed the doors, walking towards you. You never before noticed how she looks exactly like a cat. "At your sleep."
When Nami got near your bed, you tried to push your body up on the bed. You were trying to get away from her, but not hard enough. Soon your head hit the wall, and Nami's knees found a way into your bed.
"Do you know that sometimes you call my name?" Nami crawled to you. Unable to move, unable to think, you just watched as she stopped right before your feet. "That sometimes I do it to?"
You didn't move when she rubbed the back of her hands against your thights. Neither when she supported her head on your knees. "You want me to get away from you?"
You licked your lips. "This won't change anything," you told her. "I still hate you."
Nami laughed. She truly did. "That's fine for me." She looked at you, eyes as sharp as a knife. "Open your legs."
You never before did as she demanded. You always fought, and discussed, and yelled. But this time... your body just behaved. You didn't even thought about shame or any shit like that before opening yourself for her eyes to see.
Nami almost drooled over the sight. She held your thights, grabbing them with force, and breath in. Was she trying to smell you? Did she?
She got near you, so near you could feel her warm breath hitting your exposed pussy. She looked at you, and Nami saw herself in your eyes. She saw desire. And Nami was ready to finally get and end to all this sweet torture between you both.
Nami opened your legs on an angle you didn't even thought about, and slowly slid her tongue against all of you. A instinticve movement took care of your body, but she held you in place. You're pretty sure you'll have marks from her grip.
You kinda of want that.
Her tongue felt so great against you. She exploded you slowly at first, but soon her patience expired. Nami moaned against you, and you felt like she may actually devour you. Like she would really just eat you whole.
Her nose brushed against your clit while she used her tongue to play with your insides. Nami was having fun. She wasn't just trying to make you cum, but was getting off on making you squirm between her hands.
You grabbed her by the hair, putting her face at just the right angle. You didn't even noticed when you started to rub against her face. "Fuck," a murmured sound reached your ears. She slapped your thights. "Delicious."
"Nami," you moaned. You knew this would make her go even deeper on you. "Your clothes."
She understood, even though you were unable to speak, and in one movement she took off her dress. “Fucking hot,” you said.
You pulled her up, making her nose bump against yours, and squeezed Nami's waist. You don't know who started the kiss, nor who took off your nightgown. You just know that she tasted like tangerines and something even sweeter. Something you could get addicted to.
You laid her down on the bed, but didn't climb on top of her. You writhed on the bed, your legs spread so she could get between them, and pulled her by the waist. As you tasted her pussy, you realized you were wrong.
Now that was addictive.
You devoured her as if you were a starving woman. In that moment you really were. Starving for Nami.
What happened was nothing angelic. It wasn't organized. She pulled you close to her face, you grab Nami's waist. She rubbed her face against your pussy, an animalistic noise filling the room. You drooled over her pussy, soaking it.
It was more like a fight. A battle to see who could have the other for more time. At some point you were on top of her, grinding against Nami's tongue. In another, she pinned your head on her legs, unable to notice what she was doing as she concentrated on thrusting her fingers into you.
You came as she moaned against your pussy, murmuring wildly about how you tasted better than she could ever imagine. She came soon after, immersed in your laconic sounds.
And you didn't move away. In that awkward and uncomfortable position, you continued. Just breathing, letting your minds finally go back to thinking. In silence, until Nami laughed.
You quickly followed her.
That night a pirate butler with a troupe of thieves tried to kill poor Miss Kaya. Luffy poisoned himself. Zoro managed to escape from a well but didn't find the right way back to the mansion. Usopp did everything to save his old friend.
And you bet your life that the most surprising thing of the night was Nami kissing you amiably before going out of your room.
Not that you mind.
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if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡
@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.
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solgmorell · 11 months
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Today Millie had a fan panel in which she answered that her ideal ending would be Mike and El getting married and Will being happy and confessing to Mike (lol) and ofc the Stranger Things fandom kicked up the old Byler vs Mlvn war once again, regardless of the fact she doesn’t write the show. But I want to break down some points here about things I’ve been noticing today, but also for a while and that I think need to be discussed. Keep reading if you want.
I’ve seen a lot of hostility towards Byler and Bylers on Twitter lately, saying we’re delusional and don’t know what we’re talking about. This always seems to be the go to argument even tho it’s all in the narrative. Today it got really bad after Millie’s comments and even people that were merely disagreeing with her opinions got called everything from delusional to misogynistic.
IF the Duffers suddenly decided to ignore everything they’ve carefully crafted and put into their narrative that doesn’t make anyone delusional, it just makes them terrible writers. Who would be doing a great disservice to all three characters involved in the love triangle.
There’s been an insurgence (on Twitter) of so called “Will stans” who seem to be completely fine with the idea of mlvn being endgame because “Will can just get another boyfriend” Not only is this insulting to what the writers have already established for Will’s character but it’s also a defense and endorsement of the worst kind of lazy/bad writing that could graze our screens.
The Duffers CHOSE to tie Will’s character arc to Mike’s and El’s.
How do you expect them to undo that and create a well fleshed out character that’s deserving of Will, in 8 episodes that we know are not just gonna be dedicated to Will’s supposed love interest, because there’s a shit ton of stuff to resolve?
If this was the route the Duffers were going for, they could’ve clearly given Will a love interest last season (like with Robin) or two seasons ago (like with Dustin) And yet somehow, people think it would be totally okay for Will to get the most meaningless romance of all time as the writers ignore the same story they’ve created.
Another point I’ve been seeing a lot from these people is “Mike won’t come out. Let it go. He’s just a very unlikable character” What does that say about the quality of the writing and content you’re willing to consume then? You’re okay with characters being poorly written? And please someone explain to me how Mike’s actions, especially in S4, make any sense unless he likes Will.
The more people try to simplify this story the more plot holes and inconsistencies it creates.
The funny thing is that a lot of these “Will stans” used to be Bylers themselves but are so deathly afraid it won’t be endgame that they’ve started to use the same rhetoric mlvns use every day to justify what would be atrocious writing.
And this next thing might be controversial but I think it needs to be said.
So many people on Twitter have hit those who disagree with Millie’s opinion today with “y’all are misinterpreting Millie’s words” and let me tell you, no one has. She’s been saying the same stuff for forever and quite frankly she’s never had a coherent thought about Will. Which is fine, at the end of the day that’s not the character she plays. However, I haven’t forgotten how last year (at another panel) she was asked about Byler and said it was just a reflection of Finn and Noah’s friendship and that was what people were seeing…
Whatever the fuck that means, I guess.
Again, I’m not taking her answer today too seriously cause truth be told she’s been saying some version of this since she was around twelve, and has even at times said she was joking about it. If a wedding were actually happening she wouldn’t be able to say it cause I’d literally be a spoiler, even if she doesn’t have the scripts yet or doesn’t know I’m sure there’s things that would be off limits for any actor to say at this point.
But this defense squad that formed today begging for us to not misconstrue her words because “she really cares about Will’s character” is laughable.
Her answers regarding the topic of the love triangle have been anything but nuanced. If she doesn’t want to get into it or address it, that’s fine. It’s her choice.
But of course, mlvn stans are gonna take her answers seriously, as well as those who are now “Will stans” who basically ship mlvn too.
And to me there’s a fundamental flaw regarding the ship wars in this fandom, which these people don’t seem to grasp. At this point, it isn’t so much about “which ship is better” but “which outcome isn’t violently homophobic”
That’s it.
I don’t care how much you ship mlvn, this is the undisputed truth here.
But when your lead actors act like it’s not a big deal, it’s no surprise the fandom doesn’t give a shit.
I can only hope the Duffers were smart enough to see reason and were able to write the only outcome that won’t set television back around 10 years or so.
And hopefully one day, when S5 is out, we can get a more in depth and honest conversation with the actors about all of this.
As for me, I’m gonna lay low and not give much of a fuck until we start getting those Reddit leaks, which were very much accurate for last season. I’ll take a peak at those, and depending on what they look like, I’ll stay around or dip completely.
If you read all of this, thank you.
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Little details in episode 9
Hopefully you know the drill by now — once a week I get a little wine tipsy, rewatch the most recent episode, and point all the little things that newly stick out at me:
Sailom’s silent “what the hell” is hilariously funny to me. He’s going along with what Kang wants with minimal input, which is very sweet, but the first chance he gets where his face is hidden, he can’t hide how insane he thinks his boy is.
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To give him a little bit more credit than I have been lately, this IS a more open exchange of feelings than Sailom would usually give. He turns it into a joke, but he is slowly starting to share more with Kang.
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No thoughts, head empty, just Sailom’s affectionate smile when Kang says he has to wait until tomorrow to be his sugar daddy!!
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I adore this little exchange. I wish they’d gotten to play it out more. It’s a nice way to show how different their backgrounds are without it being a whole THING.
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No thoughts, head empty, just Kang’s affectionate smile at seeing Sailom fall asleep!!
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Another really great exchange. Sailom NEVER talks about Kang like this, but you can tell how much more frustrating he finds this than anything that might come up in tutoring. He could sympathize with Kang being cavalier with money when it was seemingly unlimited, but not in a situation like this, when they truly need it.
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I don’t even LIKE kids and this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. @thirstkanaphan has fully convinced me that the actual best life path for Kang is coach
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Kang LOVEEEES calling Sailom his boyfriend and I love it for for him
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I have been married a long time and can attest that this is one of the most true to being married scenes I’ve ever seen on TV
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Something important happened with this line and I need someone smarter than me to unpack it
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The way Kang immediately upgraded their hotel room when he got more money. Incredible, no further suggestions.
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This gives me radiantly happy in episode five Sailom vibes, which is my favorite Sailom!! It’s so wonderful when he turns off his brain and just enjoys the finer things he gets to experience via Kang
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This flop of despair (and blue balls) when Sailom closes the curtain on him. Kang, I adore you.
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I have hated (HATED!!) how virtually every other BL I’ve ever seen has handled the shyer, virginal character whose boyfriend pushes them to be more physical. But oh my gosh Kang pulls it off. Because first of all, all he really ever is trying to do is make Sailom blush and he usually keeps his distance after he gets the reaction he’s looking for
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And second, because what he does after Sailom agrees to let him stay here, is immediately ask this question. My precious boy. Did you just want to stay close so you could open up about your feelings?
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After Kang talks about how he should sell the bike back, Sailom gives him the club look. And Kang gets to see it!! Only then does he try to close the gap between them. Sailom is admittedly giving him come hither eyes
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How Kang puts himself in the way when the angry guy starts talking about beating up Sailom. He goes on to say “I WON’T LET YOU”. So much (probably unwarranted) bravado, I’m obsessed
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Meanwhile, Sailom, who has actually lived on the mean streets, is like “we need to get the hell out of here”
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The motorcycle guys didn’t even take the money! Is that worse or better, I can’t decide?
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I know I’ve talked about this previously but the fact that Kang’s worst nightmare was Sailom getting hurt again and then HE caused Sailom to get beaten up by throwing that punch is gutting (but actually in some ways Sailom willingly chose to be beaten because he stepped in between the men and Kang. They protect each other!)
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I’ve come around to believing Sailom is telling the truth here. In part because Sailom never ever lies, and in part because I’m pretty sure Kang leans over and watches him type the message
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Obsessed with the way that immediately after he’s satisfied that Kang has calmed down and that he’s ready to go home, Sailom instantly reverts to the person you know he wanted to be the entire trip to Korat
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Once again they have an entire wordless conversation with their eyebrows. Married.
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The way Kang’s wearing white pants so you can really tell in the reflection how he has his knees bent on either side of Sailom’s body when Sailom flips them in the love scene 👀👀
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sashaisready · 4 months
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Chapter 3 - Now or Never
Nick Fowler x Reader
Summary: Reader is a brilliant but shy and awkward CIA employee whose work is often overlooked by her colleagues…she’s blended into the background for so long that she doesn’t think there’s any other way - even if she does have secret aspirations for another life. Unbeknownst to her - a certain blue eyed agent is very aware of her talents, even if nobody else is.
Under the Radar Masterlist
<Chapter Two - Beige
Warnings: Angst! Nick being a dick, some sexist/misogynistic language
Wordcount: 3804 (sorry quite a long one but there’s a lot of stuff to set up 😉 I am excited!!)
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You could barely sleep after he left. You managed to grab a few hours…somehow…but you laid wide awake just after 5am. Your mind couldn’t settle. You just replayed what he’d said over and over again. 
No drive. Beige. Nothing. No drive. Beige. Nothing. 
He was embarrassed of you. All this time you had hoped you were wrong. That you were overthinking it. You had clung weakly to the idea that he’d dismiss such a thing if confronted. 
But you were right. 
He was ashamed to be seen with you. Ashamed if anyone found out that he was sleeping with you. 
The worst part was…he wasn’t entirely wrong. You knew that about yourself. You played it safe. You liked it comfortable, you liked a sure thing. You knew if you went for a promotion you’d probably have a good shot at it, but you were afraid to fail. Afraid to be bad at something. You knew your job like the back of your hand. You were good at it because you knew it so well. Your fear was what stopped you from taking a leap. From learning. From being out in the field. It was cowardly. 
You were such a coward in fact that you had let this man walk all over you for so long, too afraid to question him and risk bringing down the fragile house of cards you’d built. Of course he didn’t respect you. How could he? You barely respected yourself. 
There had been a moment though…When you questioned him about his soft treatment in the bathroom….how he held you…you could’ve sworn you saw a moment of weakness in his eyes. A hint of admission that you’d hit a nerve. That maybe it did all mean something. 
But you couldn’t think like that anymore. 
You needed to stop obsessing over every detail in an attempt to find the words he wasn’t saying. Stop fruitlessly trying prove to yourself that he cared about you. It was all so clear now. He didn’t. He never did. 
As much as your heart ached, the revelation was freeing. You had your answer. It wasn’t the answer you wanted, but now you knew. You could draw a line under all of this and move on. Maybe, in time, find someone who would be proud to have you on their arm. 
You smiled, the glimmer of optimism lifting you from your funk. In a strange way, Nick had given you a new lease of life. You would prove him wrong. Prove him wrong about all of it. 
*
It was nearly 6am when you admitted defeat and accepted you weren’t going back to sleep. You normally didn’t get up til gone 7, but you decided to start your day. You had two choices: mope into your laptop and try to keep a low profile to avoid Nick, or walk into work with your head held high and prove he hadn’t broken you.
You chose the latter. 
And…it wouldn’t hurt to show him what he was missing, would it?
First order of business - remove temptation. You deleted Nick’s messages from your phone. Deleted your call log with him. Blocked his number and deleted his contact. It wasn’t like he messaged you much anyway, but this way you avoided any urge to text him - and couldn’t be swayed if he tried to get back in touch (unlikely, but good to be sure). It felt a little sad to remove them, especially the easy back and forth of your banter in the early days. The little jokes. His compliments. All sent to the digital graveyard in the sky. You sighed. A good first step. 
After showering, eating breakfast and firing off a few explanatory texts to Annie, you opened your closet to find something to wear to work. You flicked through your endless work blouses and pants, all perfectly fine, but you wore them everyday on rotation. Beige. Some were a bit too big, some a bit too bland. Your non-work clothes were too casual…you didn’t really have anything else to wear except…
….oh yes. The pencil dress.
Annie had given it to you some time ago, suggesting you could wear it to the office. She worked in fashion so was always trying to pawn off garments she thought would work for you. You’d laughed it off at first, the dress was nice - a fitted black number, flattering, pretty but still formal. But you wouldn’t wear something like that - certainly not to work! You’d stuck in the back of your closet and planned to stick it on eBay, but never got around to it. You were grateful for your past laziness.
As you pulled the dress from the hanger your phone buzzed. You held your breath for a second wondering if it was him - but of course it wasn’t. He was blocked. And he wouldn’t be messaging anyway. 
It was Annie. She was always up at the crack of dawn doing yoga or Pilates, so it was no surprise she’d got back to you so quickly.
What!! Ugh that ASSHOLE. Sweetie, I’m sorry - but you are better off without him. I’ve always known he wasn’t good enough for you. Well done for walking away. You deserve so much more. Drinks this week, first round on me ❤️ A
You smiled as your phone buzzed again. Annie had sent an addendum. 
Also - wear that pencil dress to work today. No arguments. Look fabulous. Make him sweat. 
❤️ A
You laughed out loud, it was the first time you’d felt a bit of joy since Nick left. She was your best friend for a reason. You pulled on the dress, carefully rolling it down your body and zipping it up. 
You looked in the mirror, immediately feeling a little anxious. You looked…good. That you couldn’t deny. But could you really wear this to work? It wasn’t overly revealing, it fit the dress code, but it hugged your figure in a way your other work clothes never did. Was this really you?
No. It wasn’t. But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe trying something not-you was a good idea. 
Beige. 
You inhaled deeply, your mind made up. You slipped on a pair of heels you rarely wore but kept for weddings and formal parties when you needed them. They were surprisingly comfortable, not painful stilettos you needed to hobble around in. 
You looked at yourself in the mirror, surprised at how different you looked. But not hating it. Absolutely not. 
You took a bit more time doing your hair and make-up than you would normally spend on work days. Once you finished, you surveyed your handiwork in the full length mirror. Not bad. Not bad at all. You felt a pang of confidence and you welcomed it gladly, a bright spot in the sea of your despair. 
You snapped a selfie and sent it to Annie, who immediately fired back a series of flame and heart eye emojis. You chuckled. 
It was now or never.
*
You felt sick as you walked to your desk, very aware of the additional attention you were receiving this morning. A few of your male colleagues said good morning, the ones who barely noticed you normally. You smiled weakly back in return, faintly angry that it took a tight dress to get them to show you some basic courtesy. Grant the security guy was polite at least.
A small wave of embarrassment hit as you sat down. Was everyone looking at you? Judging you? Did you look bad? Did they think you were trying too hard? God. This is why you preferred to blend into the background. Far less complicated.
But once you opened your laptop and started work, your nerves melted away. You threw yourself into your documents, tapping away at a report before comparing some photos of a potential target location. Busy was good. Busy meant your mind was occupied.
It was mid-morning when you got up to refill your coffee, the lack of sleep from last night finally catching up as your adrenaline began to wear off. You were just in the break room filling up your mug when you heard a chatter of voices enter the room.
Nick strolled in discussing a shipment of some kind with Director Walsh. You froze, feeling that nauseous feeling return as you noticed him, your heart pounding in your chest. Your body on fire. 
He looked over at you for a moment before looking back at Walsh, but his eyes did a double take and he glanced back at you once more, a flash of surprise on his face before nodding in response to Walsh’s question.
You finished making your coffee as quickly as you could, desperate to get away and back to the safety of your desk. 
Walsh’s cell rang and he sighed, excusing himself as he darted out of the room to take it. He was a good boss. A good leader. He was greying and slightly out of shape, but his presence still commanded everyone’s attention. You had always been in awe of him for that.
You waited for Nick to leave too, but you could feel his eyes on your back as you stirred your cup and picked it up to head back to your sanctuary.
“Nice dress” he finally said monotonously.
You turned, giving him a friendly nod as you tried not to look too deeply into those eyes of his. Not wanting to fall into them again.
“Thank-you, Agent Fowler”. You said politely. 
He scoffed, shaking his head. “Oh…we’re doing that, are we?”
You looked at him quizzically. “Sorry? Doing what?”
He rolled his eyes. “You know exactly what. Formalities. Do you think I’m dumb? You wear the same clothes here day in, day out, and now suddenly after last night you’re wearing that? Don’t insult my intelligence, princess” he spat.
You looked down at the dress, then back at Nick. You hadn’t really expected such a direct response to it. You weren’t sure how you managed to compose yourself but you pushed through, ignoring the thumping in your ears and how dry your mouth had suddenly become.
“I’m sorry I don’t know what you mean…” you said plainly.
He chuckled. “Look, how things went down was…” he paused to think “Unfortunate…but we can still be adults about this. We need to be civil, we both need to work together”.
You nodded.
“So don’t play games and wear tight outfits for my benefit” he said sharply.
You sighed mockingly as if he had said the silliest thing you’d ever heard. 
“Agent Fowler, I think you’ll find this is a work appropriate item of clothing that fits the dress code guidance. If you have an issue with my attire, please raise it with HR. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to be getting on with”.
With that you left the room without looking back, a small smirk on your lips. 
*
Despite your cool facade you were on the verge on a panic attack once you sat back at your desk. You hadn’t expected Nick to confront you quite so directly. Still…you couldn’t deny it felt good to rattle him a little. Normally you were the one doting on him, begging for any scraps of attention he gave you like a stray dog - and here you were now - giving him the ice queen treatment and leaving him standing by himself. 
You hoped it would get easier to be around him. You weren’t cut out for this dicey game of oneupmanship. Even if it was incredibly satisfying when it paid off. 
You managed to throw yourself back into your work, ignoring the occasional admiring glance from some of your male colleagues.
You were concentrating hard when Director Walsh walked by your desk, his deep voice surprising you out of your trance as he said your name.
He knew your name? 
He knew your name.
Maybe Nick wasn’t right about everything. 
“Yes, Sir?” You smiled, looking up and giving him your full attention.
“You finished that Phoenix report yet?” He asked. 
You nodded. “All good to go, I just needed to tweak some of the coordinates”.
He smiled approvingly. “Good work. Can you drop a hard copy over to Fowler ASAP? He’s going to be leading that Op now”.
Fuck. 
You smiled again. “Of course, I’ll get right on that Sir”.
He gave you a small nod before disappearing across the office floor.
You sighed. You should’ve been delighted to have such a positive interaction with Walsh. Normally he barely acknowledged your existence. But he knew your name! He said good work!! Of course it was all tainted by having to speak to Nick…
You sent the report to the printer and picked it up on the way to Nick’s office. Just get in and out. Ignore any pointed little comments, respond with professionalism like you had earlier.
As you approached you could see his door was ajar. That was a good sign. He always closed it when he was inside working. You checked your watch. Lunchtime. He most likely wasn’t there, probably on some long lunch with another agent like usual, so you could leave the report on his desk and sneak off before he returned. Perfect. 
You padded up to the door, not bothering to knock as you strode in because you assumed it was empty - only to hear a woman’s laugh and a snippet of conversation as you came inside.
“So…when are you taking me out again?” The female voice said coyly as you stepped through.
It was too late to retreat. Nick was sitting at his desk and leaning on it in front of him was Mace, the brilliant and beautiful agent. Nick’s colleague. She was so close to him she was practically in his lap. Nick was wearing the smirk you knew all too well. 
Mace was, by all accounts, a badass, and just happened to be movie star gorgeous too. Your stomach sank. 
Take her out again? 
They both turned to look at you, confused by your presence. 
“Oh…I’m-I’m sorry” you muttered. “The door was open so I…I didn’t think anyone was…oh…”
Nick stared over at you, his face giving nothing away as always. 
Take her out again? When did they go out before?
You blinked, realising you hadn’t finished your explanation. You quickly regained your cool despite the heat burning in your cheeks. 
“Apologies, Agent Fowler…I wouldn’t have barged in if I’d known you were here. I have the Phoenix report for you- Director Walsh said you needed it”.
You handed the report to him and he accepted it, nodding.
“Thank-you” he said impassively. 
“And apologies again for the intrusion” you added. 
He waved a hand dismissively and you moved to leave. 
“You look nice today” Mace chirped as you passed her, her red hair glowing in the sunlight from the window.
You turned to face her, conjuring up the most genuine smile you could. “Thanks…”
She smiled back and you stole a quick glance at Nick as you left. He was just staring, his expression impenetrable.
*
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.
It had been a few hours since the Mace incident and you’d been quietly spiralling at your desk ever since.
Ugh…you were dumb. Did you really think he was exclusively fucking you? Of course he’s been with other women - other women in the office even. And Mace is beautiful and talented and they travel together out on ops all the time - you were a fool for not figuring it out sooner. 
Not only that, Mace was everything he said you weren’t. Established and respected in her career, at the top of her field, known by everyone in the CIA. She certainly wasn’t beige.
Here you were, playing stupid games in your stupid dress trying to provoke him while he was pursuing other women. How embarrassing.
You got your head down and continued to work for a bit longer until you realised you could smell a familiar cologne. You looked up to find Nick strolling to the desk behind you.
“Leigh” he said smugly.
Ugh. Agent Leigh. Hardly your favourite person. A frat boy who never grew up. Loud, brash, as subtle as a foghorn. You did your best to interact with him as little as possible. Fortunately the feeling seemed to be mutual as you were one of the few female staff members he didn’t try to corner at social events. He at least had the good sense to understand that you had no time for him.
“Fowler!” You heard him reply. He laughed his weaselly laugh and you suppressed an eye roll. “How’s life, my man?”
“Not bad, not bad” Nick responded. “Just seeing if you were available for drinks tonight - bit of a guy’s night, yknow”.
Leigh practically hollered. “Hell yeah, man! Where you thinkin’?”
“Ignite, downtown”,
“Sweet! Yes! Ignite has the hottest tail”.
You couldn’t suppress the eye roll this time.
Nick chuckled. “It does certainly attract a class of women who are easy on the eye”.
Pig. Asshole. Pig.
You knew he was doing this on purpose. Baiting you. Trying to get a reaction out of you after you bested him earlier. This was punishment. 
“Exactly!” Laughed Leigh. “But you know me…I’m not fussy. If she’s got a pulse, I’m down”.
Grossgrossgross.
“Hey…Palmer, you coming?”
Leigh called over to Agent Palmer, who was sitting nearby and like you was unfortunate enough to bear witness to this scintillating conversation. 
Palmer looked up and smiled weakly. “Not really my scene, I’ll pass”.
“It’ll be fun” Nick purred.
“Oh don’t be a pussy, man!” Leigh continued. “You need to get some ass, loosen up a little” he laughed.
You wrinkled your nose in disgust.
“Hey…c’mon man” Palmer said scoldingly. His gaze momentarily flickered over to you. “Don’t talk like that”.
“Oh…you worried about Miss Priss? Forget that hardass” Leigh laughed, referring to you. 
You felt your head pound as you did your best to pretend you didn’t hear. 
“Dude! Shut it!” Palmer said warningly. You could hear the anger in his voice. “Don’t be an asshole. That’s not cool”. 
You looked at him, giving him a small, grateful smile. He smiled back sympathetically.
“He’s right, we’re at work” Nick interjected. “Let’s keep it to shop talk, okay?”
At least he’d shut it down. But you felt a pang of sadness that he hadn’t stood up for you like Palmer had.
Leigh exhaled. “Whatever, party poopers” he got up and headed towards the break room, giving Nick finger guns as he went. “See you at quitting time, Fowler. Hope your liver is ready for me”.
You could hear Palmer calling him a dick and asking if you were okay, but you felt far away - barely present.
You felt Nick lingering behind you but you couldn’t face turning around to look at him. You were flushed with embarrassment after Leigh’s comments. It was like you were back in high school and one of the popular kids was making fun of you. You tightly squeezed your mouse, pretending to be engrossed in your screen.
Beige. Beige. Hardass. Miss Priss.
No drive. No drive. No drive. 
You glanced over to the window of Director Walsh’s office. He was sitting inside, squinting at his monitor. You knew he wasn’t busy. He always put in a 30 minute block in his calendar around this time, he claimed it was to catch up on emails and paperwork but you knew he mostly spent it bidding on eBay or reading sports news.
Now or never.
You had stood up before you fully realised what you were doing, striding over to Walsh’s office. The combination of Leigh’s assholery and humiliating truth about Nick and Mace ignited something in you that you couldn’t stop. You were fuelled by anger and disgust. Before you knew it you were knocking on his door. 
“Sir? Do you have 5 minutes?” You asked cheerily, hoping he couldn’t see how upset you were.
Walsh looked up, clearly surprised to see you but gestured for you to take a seat.
You sat, then cleared your throat.
“What can I do for you?” He asked gruffly. 
You swallowed. “Well, Sir, I’ve been here for five years now. In that time I’ve established myself as an essential team member - my briefing reports are thorough and meticulous, I always meet my deadlines. The agents know that whatever work they give me, it’ll be done quickly and to a high standard. Just ask any of them…”
He peered thoughtfully at you.
You cleared your throat again, trying to keep your nerves at bay. 
“…and you see, I think, uh, well I know I’ve got even more to offer. I’ve got a keen eye for detail and a passion to learn. I’m ready for the next step. Not just do everybody’s background work. So…sir…I’d like to be…well, assigned to an op directly. To work alongside an agent on the strategy and planning. I…I just want a chance to prove I can, sir”.
You stammered slightly at the end, but sat up straight and clasped your shaking hands together in an attempt to appear calm and collected. 
Walsh studied you, moving a finger to his lip as he considered your proposal. After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke. 
“Okay”.
Your face brightened. “Okay? Really?”
He nodded. “You’re right. You’ve proven you’re competent. You deserve a shot”.
You grinned in return, trying to appear professional but unable to mask your glee. 
“Thank you! Thank-you sir…I won’t let you down. I promise”.
He nodded again before walking to the door and calling out to the office floor.
“Palmer? A minute please”.
Palmer appeared seconds later, the curiosity evident on his face as he saw you sitting there. 
Walsh sat down behind his desk and pointed between the both of you. 
“The two of you are going to be working on Project Cotton together. Effective immediately. Palmer - She’ll be your number two - working with you on the strategy and logistics to prepare for you going out in the field. We’ll be taking her off her normal duties for a few weeks so please see to it that her other work is re-assigned amongst the other assistants”.
Palmer nodded. “Yes, sir”.
“Fowler will be out on Project Phoenix for a few weeks from tomorrow so I need you to lead on this” Walsh added. “It’s priority number one”.
“Absolutely, Sir. Understood”. 
A new work opportunity. A chance to prove yourself and defy everyone’s impressions of you. Nick. Leigh. Walsh. Yourself. And no Nick hanging around to distract you. Distance and time to get over him. 
It was almost too good to be true. 
You beamed at Palmer. He smiled back.
“Looking forward to working with you” he said.
“Thank-you, Agent Palmer. The feeling is mutual”. 
*
Chapter Four - The Ghost
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Perhaps one of the best parts of aoas is that Goddard chose wrong. He needed someone that he could appeal to all the worst parts of, someone he could manipulate with praise and promises of greatness. Rowan was always too compassionate to become a mini-Goddard, he had a brief bit with "Man, having the people around me acknowledge my accomplishments is actually kinda nice" but he pushes past Goddard's attempts at manipulation because he's just too damn moral!
Now, compare this to Citra. Rowan describes her as competitive by nature, and seeking approval (namely from Faraday). Citra's inner monologue reveals to us that, originally, she despises the thought of being a scythe, but hates losing so bad, she keeps going. Not to mention, Citra kicks ass at diplomacy, and at it's core, and is scarily good at rallying key people to her cause. Several Scythes call attention to her political skills and, even though she had some higher-ups in her pocket, she's very good at picking out dangerous loopholes and technicalities. A tactic that Goddard explicitly uses when he changes the definition of bias!
It goes the same for Scythe Curies as well. Citra outright tells her that, "If you wanted a student of observation, you should have picked Rowan." Citra learns best by doing, she cannot see the dullness Scythe Curie's gleaned have until she practices gleaning with her. Rowan learns by observing and reacting. He's always weighing options and stalling for time to cook up a better plan. Citra eventually learns to mimic this, but it is defiantly not a skill set she possess in the first half of book one. Not to mention, she pushed a girl in front of a bus when she was like, EIGHT. Curie has her rectify this and apologize, but I could totally see Goddard twisting that darker part of Citra.
IN CONCLUSION, Goddard wrote a self-fulfilling prophecy when he decided to be a jackass and try to corrupt one of Faraday's students after pitting them against one another. That you for coming to my ridiculously long TED Talk.
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