#he's literally the abandonment issues queen
Text
fighting the urge tooth and nail to watch book 3 again
i can't draw the stinky man well 😩
#raveartts#infinity train#these two jsut make me insane#though i have a cluster b rant in my mind about them#like the writers are stupid and wrong and simon does nto ahve npd he has bpd#he's literally the abandonment issues queen#and GRACE is the one with npd#i could elaborate but like. i've made my point clear and my argument contaisn ten thousand million brain cells#can't believe she got a redemption arc though like ugh can't a girl be evil and insane#also simon is autistic but i thin k anyone could infer that easily#there's something so wrong with both of them 😍😍😍
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ties That Bind
Charles Leclerc x royal!Reader + Max Verstappen x sister!Reader
Summary: life as Princess of the Netherlands is pretty perfect but when health issues become a (literal) royal pain, you discover a familial connection that will change your life forever
Warnings: struggles with infertility, child abandonment, serious health issues, medical procedures and treatments
This is what happens when I’m insane enough to try juggling writing an 8k+ word fic with studying in medical school
The night was a cascade of ethereal snowflakes, each one glistening under the pale moonlight, landing gracefully upon the earth. The silver car glided along the road, its headlights illuminating the path through the thick curtain of snow, like two piercing eyes navigating through sorrow.
Inside, Prince Frederik of the Netherlands drove in silent contemplation, the weight of the day’s news pressing heavily on his heart. Beside him, Princess Marianne stared out of the frosted window, her reflection capturing swollen eyes that glistened with fresh tears. Her fingers trembled slightly, crumpling yet another now irrelevant medical report indicating one more failed IVF attempt.
“I thought this time would be different,” Marianne whispered, her voice quivering. “I truly believed it.”
Frederik’s grip on the wheel tightened. He turned to his wife, pain evident in his eyes. “I know, my love. I know.”
As they drove, Frederik’s eyes caught a glimpse of something unusual by the side of the road. “What’s that?” He murmured, slowing the car.
Marianne followed his gaze. “It looks like a bundle ... stop the car!”
Frederik brought the vehicle to a halt. They both jumped out and hurried over to the mysterious object. As they approached, Marianne gasped. “Oh my God, Frederik ... it’s a baby!”
She quickly bent down to scoop the tiny, shivering form into her arms. The baby’s skin was cold, blue lips barely parting for shallow breaths as the thin pink blanket wrapped around it did little to fight the chill. “Who could do such a thing?” Marianne cried, holding the child close for warmth.
Frederik’s face hardened. “We need to get her to a hospital. Now.”
Back in the car, Marianne cradled the baby, trying to transfer her warmth. “Stay with us,” she murmured, tears spilling. “Please, stay with us.”
As they sped towards the hospital, Frederik reached over and held Marianne’s free hand. “It'’s a sign,” he whispered. “After everything we’ve been through today ... finding her like this ... it’s fate.”
Marianne looked down at the baby, her fingers gently brushing the soft wisps of hair on the child’s head. “Our little miracle in the snow,” she whispered back.
Frederik smiled faintly, squeezing Marianne's hand. “Yes, our snow angel. We’ll take care of her and she’ll take care of us.”
***
“You know, every time it snows, it feels like the world is celebrating the day we found you,” your father, now King Frederik, remarks, gazing out of the vast palace windows at the flurries descending from the sky.
You smile, reaching for a delicate pastry from the breakfast spread laid out before you. “And every snowflake reminds me of the warmth of this family that saved me from the cold.”
Your mother, Queen Marianne, hair now threaded with silver, gives you a loving glance. “Our snow angel, right when we needed you most.”
“Speaking of snow,” you muse, “I’m thinking of wearing the ice-blue gown for tonight’s gala. Thoughts?”
Your father raises an eyebrow, “For the Children’s Foundation event? Perfect choice. It complements the theme and matches the tiara your mother has picked for you to wear.”
You grin, “Who knew you had such a fashion sense?”
Your mother chuckles, “It’s a king thing. But he’s right. And with your sapphire necklace, you will be the talk of the gala.”
You take a sip of your tea, thinking of the evening ahead. “I want to ensure my speech captures the essence of our foundation’s work. It’s more than just another royal event, this is about making a real difference.”
Your father nods, “It always is for you. That genuine desire to impact lives, it’s how I know you will be a great Queen one day.”
You blush slightly, “I learned from the best.”
Your mother, with a hint of mischief, remarks, “And speaking of learning, have you decided on a dance partner for the first waltz? There’s quite a line-up available.”
You laugh, “Oh, Mom! Let’s not start matchmaking before breakfast is over.”
Your father joins in the mirth, “Give her a break, Marianne. Our snow angel must not melt.”
***
The regal hallways echo with the gentle patter of your heeled footsteps. Lately, the palace, your lifelong sanctuary, feels more like a maze. A sudden wave of dizziness makes you pause, leaning against a gilded wall for support.
“You okay there?” a soft voice calls. It’s your mother, her face etched with worry.
“Just a bit dizzy,” you mumble, attempting a reassuring smile.
She hurries over, her gown flowing. “You’ve been looking pale these past few days.”
Before you can reply, a sharp sensation pricks your nose. Touching it, you’re shocked to see blood on your fingertips. “Oh no,” you whisper, panic creeping into your voice.
Your mother’s eyes widen. “We need to see a doctor.”
“But the gala—”
“Forget the gala!” She interrupts. “Your health comes first.”
***
Inside the royal clinic, the room is a tense silence. Your father paces while your mother sits beside you, holding your hand tightly.
The family physician finally arrives, his expression somber. “Your Highness, Your Majesties,” he begins, “we’ve run several tests.”
“And?” Your father demands, halting his restless walk.
You take a deep, shaky breath, bracing yourself.
The doctor hesitates for a split second. “You have aplastic anemia.”
The room seems to close in. The words hang heavily, turning the opulent clinic cold.
Your mother’s voice trembles, “What does that mean?”
“It’s a condition where the bone marrow doesn’t produce enough new blood cells. This leads to fatigue, higher risk of infections, and uncontrolled bleeding,” the doctor explains.
Your mind races. The symptoms make sense now — the fatigue, dizziness, the nosebleed.
Your father’s face hardens, searching for hope. “What’s the treatment?”
The doctor looks grim, “The most effective treatment at this severity is a bone marrow transplant. We will need to find a matching donor.”
Your mother’s grip tightens on your hand, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “We’ll find one. We have to.”
Your father nods. “We will move mountains if we have to.”
You muster a small smile, drawing strength from your parents. “One snowstorm at a time.”
***
“How long does it usually take to find a match?” Youu inquire, voice trembling ever so slightly.
Dr. Van der Meer, the lead hematologist on your case, sighs, “It varies, Your Highness. Some find a match within their family, others from the global database. It can take days or even months.”
Your mother breaks in desperately, “But surely, with our resources, we can expedite the process?”
Your father adds, “Every avenue, every connection we have at our disposal is yours to use, Doctor.”
Dr. Van der Meer nods, “I understand the urgency, Your Majesties. We’ve already started to search within the national database. Meanwhile, we advise immediate family to get tested first.”
You interject, a sense of realization dawning, “But I’m adopted. Our genetic makeup differs.”
Your father and mother exchange a heavy look, the weight of your situation pressing down on them.
“We still have a vast network, a whole nation even,” your father muses. “Surely someone out there is a match.”
Dr. Van der Meer hesitates then says, “Actually, there has already been a hit from the database. A potential match.”
Your heart skips a beat. “Who?”
“We maintain confidentiality, Your Highness,” he replies. “But once we confirm the match and receive their consent, you will be informed.”
Your mother’s voice is tinged with hope. “So there’s a chance? A real chance?”
You lean forward eagerly. “When will we know more?”
Dr. Van der Meer offers a comforting smile. “Soon, Your Highness. For now, patience is our ally.”
***
“It’s been weeks, Doctor. Why haven’t we heard from the potential donor?” The frustration is clear in your mother’s voice.
Dr. Van der Meer looks up, choosing his words carefully. “The potential donor ... has some reservations.”
Your father’s brow furrows. “Reservations? Isn’t saving a life more important?”
The doctor clears his throat, “It’s a bit more complicated than that, Your Majesty. The potential donor is someone you’re familiar with.”
You lean forward, your curiosity piqued. “Who is it?”
There’s a momentary pause, the silence thickening. “Max Verstappen.”
Shock ripples through the room. The name isn’t just any name. It’s a name known to every Dutch citizen, celebrated in every corner of the nation.
Your mother blinks in disbelief. “The Formula 1 racer? We’ve met him multiple times at the Grand Prix. But why would he have reservations?”
Dr. Van der Meer hesitates, “There’s more to it. We ran some further genetic tests, customary for close matches. The results were ... unexpected.”
Your father leans forward in anticipation. “Go on.”
The doctor takes a deep breath, “Max Verstappen is not just a match. He’s ... he’s your half-brother.”
The room goes still. The revelation hangs in the air, too staggering to fully comprehend.
You feel your world tilt. “That’s impossible.”
Your mother’s voice is a whisper, “How can that be?”
Dr. Van der Meer clears his throat. “The genetic markers were unmistakable. Given the rare degree of compatibility and the markers we found, there is no doubt.”
Your father runs a hand through his hair, trying to process the news. “So all these years, at every Grand Prix, we’ve been cheering for ... family?”
You chime in, a flurry of emotions whirling inside, “And he doesn’t know, does he?”
The doctor shakes his head, “No, not yet. That’s the reservation. Revealing this ... it changes everything for him too.”
Your mother is contemplative. “We’ve celebrated his victories, felt the pride of having him represent our country. And now, knowing he’s family ...”
You interject, “And now, we need him more than ever. Not as a driver, not as a national icon, but as family.”
Your father’s resolve strengthens. “We need to tell him. He deserves to know.”
***
“How do you even begin a conversation like this?” You wonder aloud, staring at the blank screen of your laptop.
Your father, deep in thought, answers, “Honestly, directly, and with sensitivity. It’s uncharted territory for all of us.”
Your mothers adds, “Perhaps start by expressing your genuine feelings, without the weight of our titles or his fame."
You nod slowly, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Dear Max,” you repeat out loud as you begin typing, then pause. “Too formal?”
Your father shrugs, “It’s sincere. And that’s what matters.”
Taking a deep breath, you continue:
Dear Max,
This isn’t a typical letter and I struggle to find the right words. By now, you might have been informed by the medical team about our unexpected connection. I wanted to reach out personally, not as the Princess of Orange, but simply as ... family.
Your mother reads over your shoulder, “That’s a good start.”
I cannot imagine how jarring this news must be. It was for me too. All these years, our paths crossed, shared smiles exchanged, never knowing the deeper bond we shared.
“Maybe mention the Grand Prix, how it has been a tradition for us,” your father suggests.
Every year at the Dutch Grand Prix, my parents and I cheered for you, felt immense pride in your victories. The realization that those cheers were for family adds a layer of emotion I can’t quite put into words.
I understand if you need time to process this. But I want you to know that this revelation changes nothing about the respect and admiration I hold for you. However, it does add a depth of connection, a newfound kinship.
Your mother, her voice choked with emotion, suggests, “Maybe let him know why it’s important now, about your condition.”
The reason I am reaching out now is not just about our newfound connection but also because of a pressing health concern I am facing. I need a bone marrow transplant, and as it turns out, you are my best match.
“Reassure him,” your father adds. “It’s a big ask.”
I understand the weight of this request. There is no obligation, only hope. No matter your decision, I want you to know that discovering this bond, this link between us, is a gift in itself.
Please take all the time you need. Whatever you decide, I respect and cherish the connection we have discovered. Wishing you all the best on and off the track.
Sincerely,
Y/N
Your father, visibly moved, murmurs, “It’s perfect.”
Your mother nods in agreement, tears shimmering. “It’s from the heart. Now, we wait.”
***
The roaring engines on the racetrack outside fade as the door to the private lounge close behind you. Max Verstappen stands there, his usual confident demeanor replaced with apprehension. The weight of the recent revelations is thick in the air.
“You look different without the crown,” Max remarks, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
You chuckle softly, “And you without the helmet.”
The initial ice broken, the two of you sit. A beat of silence passes. Then Max, eyes searching yours, asks, “Why now?”
You take a deep breath. “I’ve always known I was adopted. Every snowy day, my parents would recount the tale of how they found their snow angel. I grew up surrounded by love and privilege, never lacking anything.” Your voice trembles slightly, “But there were nights ... nights I’d wonder about the person who left me there, in the snow. Why didn’t they want me? Why did they abandon me to the whims of a storm?”
Max’s expression softens, his own memories surfacing. “I grew up with my father’s strict guidance. Racing wasn’t just a passion, it was life. There was little room for anything else. I always thought I understood my family but this ...” He sighs, looking away. “It makes me question everything.”
You nod, shared uncertainty bringing you closer. “But through all this confusion, one thing is clear: we’re family. Blood, it seems, has a way of revealing itself.”
Max smiles ruefully, “You know, I have a sister, a full sister. Growing up, we were close but our paths divided. Racing consumed me. Now, discovering I have another sister, you, it’s ... overwhelming.”
You chuckle, “Two sisters. Lucky you.”
He grins, “Twice the protective instincts.”
The humor fades, replaced by raw emotion. “You know,” you whisper, tears brimming, “Despite everything, I’m grateful for our paths crossing like this. Even if it took a lifetime.”
Max reaches out, taking your hand. “Me too.”
The weight of the moment presses on both of you. You look at each other, eyes brimming with tears, souls bared.
In a sudden rush of emotion, you step forward, collapsing into Max’s embrace. He holds you tightly, as if trying to shield you from all the past hurts, regrets, and questions. The warmth of the hug contrasts sharply with the cold memory of that snowy night. In his embrace, the years of wondering, the pain of abandonment, seem to melt away.
Pulling back slightly, you look up into Max’s eyes. With a tearful smile, you whisper, “Brother.”
He grins back, “Sister. How would you feel about attending the next race, not as royalty but as my guest?”
You hesitate, the memories of previous races filled with formalities and protocols. “It will be different.”
Max wraps an arm around you shoulders, “Very. But I promise, you will see the world of racing like never before.”
***
The roar of the engines, the excitement of the crowd — it was all distantly familiar. Yet, standing beside Max, everything feels different.
As you walk through the paddock, Max’s pride is evident. “Guys,” he calls out to his mechanics, “Meet my sister.”
They look up, surprised, then smiles break out across their faces. “It’s an honor, Your Highness,” one of them greets.
Max nudges him, “Just call her by her name.”
You laugh in agreement, “It’s nice to meet you all without the formalities.”
Max continues his introductions, his enthusiasm infectious. When you reach Christian Horner, he looks pleasantly surprised. “It’s been a while,” he remarks, “Though our meetings were always, well, more formal.”
You nod, “It’s a different world from this side of the track.”
Max beams, “And she’s getting the full experience today.”
When the race starts, every moment feels magnified, more personal.
And then, the checkered flag waves for Max.
The Red Bull garage erupts in jubilation. During the celebration, Max, still in his car, locks eyes with you from across parc fermé. You can see the moisture, the emotion in his eyes. The moment he is out of his car, he races over, pulling you into a tight embrace.
“This win,” he whispers hoarsely, “it’s not just for me this time. It’s for us. For family.”
As the Dutch anthem plays during the podium ceremony, tears fill your eyes. The anthem, a proud symbol of your country and kingdom, now also symbolizes the new, ever-growing bond with your brother.
Max, standing tall on the podium, catches your eye and winks. And as the ceremony concludes, he suddenly turns, aiming his bottle of champagne right at you. The spray catches you off guard, laughter bubbling up as the cold liquid soaks you.
“You had to, didn’t you?” You laugh, wiping away the liquid before it can sting your eyes.
Max ruffles your hair, “It’s my new duty as your older brother!”
***
“Hey, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Max says, pulling you towards the thrumming heart of the afterparty.
The vibrant lights and chatter fill the room but everything seems to slow as you’re introduced to a lean figure with tousled hair and hypnotizing eyes. “This is Charles Leclerc,” Max grins, “One of the toughest guys I’ve raced against.”
Charles offers a charming smile, “Pleasure to meet you. Max speaks highly of you.”
You raise your glass in a mock toast to your brother. “Glad to hear that my bribe has been paying off.”
Charles laughs, “Well, considering today’s win, you might just be his favorite person.”
The two of you share a laugh, an effortless ease settling between you as you barely notice Max walking off with a wink shot your way.
“You’ve been to several races, haven’t you?” Charles asks, sipping his drink.
“In a more official capacity, yes. But today was ... different.”
He nods, his gaze intense, “Being family changes the perspective.”
Charles leans in, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Now that you’ve seen me on the track maybe I should show you some of my other talents?”
You raise an eyebrow, the thrill of the night’s excitement mixing with his words. “Oh? What other hidden skills do you possess?”
His voice drops to a sultry murmur. “Well, I make a mean pasta carbonara. Maybe I’ll whip it up for you someday.”
You laugh, the warmth of the moment spreading through you. “I’ll definitely hold you to that.”
Max, watching from a distance, nudges Carlos, “Look at them. Told you they’d hit it off.”
“You know, I’ve always been curious about the life of a princess,” Charles muses, a playful glint in his eye. “Is it all tiaras and tea parties?”
You smirk. “It’s more boring than you would think. But for a driver like you, every day’s a thrill, right? Speeding cars, roaring crowds, adoring fans?”
He grins, leaning closer, the proximity making your heart race. “Most days. But some nights, the thrill is ... elsewhere,” his gaze deepening, locked onto yours.
The two of you are drawn into a world of your own, the party’s noise fading into the background.
He brushes a stray hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering just a moment longer. “Have you ever considered doing a hot lap? It’s quite the rush.”
You laugh, feeling the warmth of his touch. “I don’t know about getting in a race car but I can think of something else I’d love to ride right now.”
As the club’s pulsating music envelops you, Charles leans in, his voice husky over the beat, “Care for a dance?”
You accept, and as you both move to the rhythm, the world around seems to disappear. The close proximity, the electric energy on the dance floor, and the feeling of his body moving against yours is intoxicating.
“Right now,” Charles murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear to be heard above the music, “I feel like the winner tonight.”
You smile, your gaze locked onto his, “The night is still young. Let’s see where it takes us.”
***
“I’ve noticed you’re attending more races lately,” Max comments, a teasing glint in his eyes as you both walk through the paddock.
You shrug, feigning innocence. “Well, I’ve developed quite an appreciation for the sport.”
Max chuckles, “Or for a certain Ferrari driver?”
Blushing, you retort, “Can’t it be both?”
Before Max can respond, Charles approaches, his smile brightening as he spots you. “Good to see you again,” he greets, though his eyes convey a warmth that words can’t.
“You too,” you reply in a voice softer than intended.
The three of you share some casual banter before Max excuses himself, leaving you alone with Charles.
“You know,” Charles starts, “it’s become the highlight of my race weekends, seeing you here.”
You smile, “I’ve come to realize that there’s more to F1 than just the thrill of the race. There are ... other attractions.”
Charles grins, “Is that so? Any attraction in particular?”
You playfully nudge him, “Don’t get too confident, Leclerc.”
Weekends spent at circuits become a regular fixture in your life. While you’re initially there for Max, the increasing time spent with Charles deepens your bond. The stolen glances during press conferences, the private moments away from the limelight, and the late-night conversations make the connection undeniable.
One evening, after a particularly intense race, Charles pulls you aside, his face flushed from the adrenaline. “Every time I cross the finish line and look towards the other garages, I hope to catch a glimpse of you.”
Your heart skips a beat. “And if you do?”
He smiles, “It either makes victory all the more sweet or the sting of defeat not quite as painful.”
***
“You’ve made the front page again,” Max remarks dryly, handing you a tabloid during breakfast.
You glance at the headline, The Princess and the Racer: F1’s Fairytale Romance accompanied by a candid shot of you and Charles out to dinner.
Charles groans, “They make it sound like a soap opera.”
You sigh, “It’s the price we pay, I guess.”
As weeks go by, the media scrutiny intensifies. Every public appearance and every minuscule gesture, is analyzed, often blown out of proportion. The weight of the world’s eyes strains the joy of your newfound relationship.
One evening, after a particularly invasive article speculating about a rushed engagement, Charles pulls you aside, his face drawn with concern. “I noticed you’ve been pale lately, more tired. Is it the stress from all this media attention?”
You hesitate, biting your lip. The truth is, it’s more than just the media. Your health has been deteriorating and you’ve been trying to hide it.
“It’s not just the media,” you admit.
His eyes are filled with worry. “What is it?”
Max, overhearing the conversation, interjects, “It’s her health. She didn't want to worry you.”
Charles looks at you in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
You take a deep breath, “I didn’t want to add to the pressures of the season, to be another burden.”
He reaches out, holding you close, “You’re never a burden. We’re in this together.”
You take a shaky breath, drawing strength from his words. “I’ve been diagnosed with aplastic anemia. It’s a condition where my bone marrow doesn’t produce enough new blood cells.”
Charles pales, “That’s ... serious.”
You nod, “After this race, I’m starting chemotherapy to destroy the dysfunctional bone marrow in preparation for a transplant.”
Silence envelops the room. Charles processes the weight of the revelation, the enormity of the situation sinking in. “Why now?” He finally asks.
“Timing is crucial,” Max chimes in, “She’s been putting it off, not wanting to disrupt the season. But we can’t wait much longer.”
Charles runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “I just wish you had told me sooner.”
You reach out, touching his arm, “I didn’t know how. Everything was happening so fast — our relationship, the media attention. I didn’t want to add more stress.”
Charles pulls you into a tight embrace, his voice choked with emotion. “Promise me, no more secrets.”
You nod, tears streaming down your face, “I promise.”
***
“Are you sure you want to be here for this?” You ask Charles as you both sit in the sterile hospital room, awaiting the doctor who would be overseeing your chemotherapy treatments.
Charles takes your hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “Every step of the way.”
The door opens and the doctor walks in, a gentle but serious look on her face. “Before we begin, there’s something important we need to discuss. The chemotherapy might affect your fertility. It’s not certain but there is a significant risk.”
You freeze. You had expected side effects, the potential hair loss, the fatigue. But this? This was unanticipated. This ripped your heart out of your chest.
Charles tightens his grip on your hand, his face pale. “Is there ... any way to mitigate that risk?”
The doctor nods, “We can retrieve and store your eggs. It’s a procedure done before chemotherapy in some cases. You will need hormone injections for about 10 to 12 days to stimulate the ovaries.”
You look at Charles, your eyes filled with tears, “It’s another delay.”
Charles brushes a tear from your cheek, “We face this together. I am here for you no matter what you decide.”
The days that follow are a whirlwind. Charles is by your side every step of the way, providing both emotional support and administering the daily injections.
Each evening, he carefully prepares the hormone shot. “Ready?” He asks, looking into your eyes.
You nod, trying to put on a brave face. But the physical discomfort is nothing compared to the emotional toll. Still, with Charles by your side, each day becomes bearable.
One evening, as he administers the injection, he whispers, “I’m so proud of you. Your strength amazes me every day.”
Tears spring to your eyes. “I couldn’t do this without you.”
Charles pulls you into a tight embrace, his warmth enveloping you. “You’ll never have to.”
***
“Are you sure about this?” Charles asks, his fingers brushing yours as you lay on the hospital bed.
You take a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “I am. It’s a step towards preserving a potential future, one I hope to share with you.”
His eyes soften. “Every step, I’m here.”
The medical staff move around in the background, preparing for the procedure. The hum of machines and the sterile environment contrast starkly with the intimate bubble you and Charles share.
As the procedure begins, Charles holds your hand, his thumb drawing comforting circles on your skin. “Remember our trip to Monaco?” He murmurs, attempting to distract you. “The sea, the laughter, the little café by the pier?”
A smile tugs at your lips, even as you nod for the OBGYN to proceed. “The one with the overly sweet pastries?”
Charles chuckles, “That’s the one. Imagine us there, a decade from now, two kids in tow, arguing over whether chocolate or vanilla is better.”
The image he paints eases your tension, providing a temporary escape from the clinical room. The retrieval is swift but the emotional weight lingers.
“You did great,” Charles murmurs, brushing a stray hair away from your face.
You smile weakly, “One hurdle crossed.”
The next phase comes swiftly the following day: chemotherapy. The treatment center is full of artificial warmth — the walls painted a deep yellow and the heater working overtime to keep patients as comfortable as possible — but it does nothing to counteract the chill of fear that has taken over your body.
When the nurse enters with the IV bag for your chemotherapy, Charles stands up, his stance protective. “How does this work?”
She explains the process, her voice soft, “The medication will enter her bloodstream and target the rapidly growing cells. There might be some side effects but we will monitor her closely.”
You feel a pinch as the needle is inserted and soon the clear liquid starts making its way into your veins. You blink rapidly, willing the tears away before Charles can see them.
Attempting to lighten the mood, he starts recounting some of his funniest moments from racing. You chuckle at his anecdotes, grateful for the distraction.
Hours pass. The room is filled with a mix of medical beeps and Charles’ voice, offering a counterbalance of cold reality and warm comfort.
As the IV bag nears empty, you feel a wave of fatigue. Charles notices. “Rest,” he urges softly, his thumb caressing your hand.
You nod, closing your eyes, “Thank you for being my anchor.”
He leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Always, for every challenge, every step. Always.”
***
“I still can’t believe you made him go,” your mother murmurs from the chair next to you. The hum of machines and the sterile scent of the hospital room are in stark contrast to the roaring engines and burning rubber of the track that you can almost sense through the television screen.
You manage a weak smile. “He belongs on the track, Mom. This race is crucial for the championship.”
“He wanted to stay,” your father adds. “He’s racing with a heavy heart.”
“I know,” you whisper, a tear trickling down. “But he’s strong. And I want him to win, for both of us.”
The room falls silent, save for the rhythmic beeping of the machines. You can feel the potent cocktail of drugs coursing through your veins, sapping your strength but a necessary step to fight the disease within.
The TV in the corner broadcasts the race. You hear the commentator’s voice, “... Charles Leclerc, giving it his all today. You have to wonder where he’s drawing this intensity from.”
You know the answer.
The laps go by. With each turn, each overtake Charles makes, you can sense his determination, his desire to win not just for the title but for something else … someone else.
“You should rest,” your father advises, noticing your drooping eyelids.
But you resist, wanting to witness Charles cross the finish line.
The final laps are intense. Charles battles fiercely, and as he takes the checkered flag, the room bursts into subdued cheers.
“He did it!” Your mother exclaims.
You feel a swell of pride. “For us,” you whisper, before fatigue takes over and you drift into a deep sleep.
As consciousness slowly returns not too long after, the first thing you notice is the gentle vibration of your phone on the bedside table. Groggily reaching for it, you see a new message notification from a group chat with Charles and Max.
It’s a photo of Charles and Max, still in their race suits, grinning ear to ear. Charles holds up his first-place trophy while Max proudly displays his second. They’re both covered in champagne, evidence of the post-race celebrations.
These are for you. For our champion.
With shaky fingers, you type back:
My heroes. Thank you for being my strength. So proud of you both. Can’t wait to see you again.
Your mother, noticing your reaction, peers over your shoulder. “Those boys,” she says with a fond smile, “they really adore you.”
You nod, wiping away a tear. “I’m so lucky.”
***
“Hey, sis,” Max’s voice is soft, tinged with a mix of worry and hope as he sits beside you in the pre-op room, “Ready to share a bit more than just DNA?”
You manage a small smile, despite the anxiety. “As long as you don’t start claiming we share driving skills.”
He chuckles, squeezing your hand. “Promise.”
The doctor enters, clipboard in hand. “Both of you understand the procedure, correct? Max, we will be extracting bone marrow from your pelvic bone. It’s a relatively straightforward process but you might feel some discomfort.”
Max nods resolutely. “Anything for her.”
You swallow hard, emotions swirling. “Thank you, Max. This ... it means everything.”
He looks at you, eyes filled with a brotherly love that’s grown exponentially over the past few months. “We’re family. We look out for each other.”
As Max is wheeled away for his extraction, he offers a brave smile. “See you on the other side.”
Hours later, as you sit by his bedside, watching him slowly come around post-procedure, you squeeze his hand. “You okay?”
He groans, “Feels like I’ve done a doubleheader race without any breaks. But it’s worth it.”
Then comes your turn. Max, despite his exhaustion, insists on being present. The stem cells he donated are infused into you through a central line. It’s a simple procedure but one filled with so much hope and emotion.
Max watches closely, gripping your hand. “You got this,” he murmurs as the life-saving cells flow into your body.
You try to show a convincing smile before closing your eyes and praying to whoever’s listening that this works.
***
The pale blue walls of the hospital room have become all too familiar, the rhythmic beep of machines a constant in the background. You’re reclined on the bed, an IV line dripping nutrients and much-needed blood transfusions into your system. As your body adjusts to the new bone marrow, these are crucial.
Max is seated beside you, a crossword puzzle in hand. The chairs aren’t particularly comfortable but he’s still rarely left your side.
Max taps his pen against the paper thoughtfully. “Alright, here’s one for you. Seven letters: someone who is always there, no matter what.”
You raise an eyebrow, pondering. “Is it brother?”
He grins, “You’re getting good at this.”
You chuckle, “Well, I can’t help it when the answer is so obvious …”
He leans in closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I snuck in some of those chocolates you like from that little shop in town.”
Your eyes widen in mock horror. “You rebel. We’ll be banished from the kingdom.”
He winks, producing a small box from his bag. “Worth it.”
As you both indulge in the illicit treat, you realize just how much these little moments, these shared smiles and inside jokes, make the ordeal bearable.
Max notices your contemplative expression. “Hey, what’s on your mind?”
“Just thinking about how lucky I am to have a brother who sneaks chocolates into a hospital for me.”
He extends his pinky towards you, “Always. Until the end of the race.”
You intertwine your own pinky with his to immortalize the promise, “And beyond.”
Just as the two of you are finishing the last of the chocolates, the door swings open quietly. Charles steps in, his eyes immediately seeking you out. There’s a bouquet of fresh flowers in his hand, their vibrant colors standing out against the sterile environment.
“You two conspiring without me?” Charles teases, setting the flowers on the bedside table.
Max smirks, “Just ensuring she gets her daily dose of chocolate, doctor’s orders.”
Charles moves to your side and presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “How are you feeling today?”
“Better now that my two favorite racers are here,” you reply with a smile.
Charles laughs, “I see. Well, the doctor outside told me your blood counts are improving. Seems the new bone marrow is getting to work.”
You nod hopefully. “One day at a time.”
Charles moves closer, taking your free hand. “Every day is a step closer to getting you out of here.”
Max, sensing the intimate moment, stands up, stretching. “I’ll leave you lovebirds to it. Need to grab a coffee and give that crossword another go.”
Charles smiles gratefully at him, and as Max exits the room, you’re left in a bubble of comfort and warmth with your boyfriend.
***
“Grant our daughter strength and good news,” your mother’s prayer weaves through the tense atmosphere of the room.
Charles’ grip on your hand tightens and he whispers, “Whatever the news, we face it together.”
“Guide the hands of the doctors, let their knowledge lead to healing.”
Max, on your other side, offers a comforting squeeze, his face betraying his own anxiety. “You’ve come so far already.”
“And bless our family with your grace and protection.”
The prayer lingers in the air just as the door opens.
“Grant her the strength, the health, the life she deserves ...”
The doctor steps in, a manila envelope in hand. Everyone’s gaze immediately fixes on him, the room heavy with bated breath.
He looks around the room, making eye contact with each one of you, then finally says, “The results are in.”
You feel Charles’ hand tremble slightly … Max’s grip tighten … your father barely breathing behind you … a silent prayer still on your mother’s lips.
“The bone marrow has taken exceptionally well. All indicators and markers are positive.” The doctor smiles. “You’re officially in remission. You’re cured.”
A tidal wave of emotion crashes over the room. Tears immediately spring to your eyes, happiness and relief mingling in each drop.
Your mother’s whispered prayer crescendos into a heartfelt “thank you,” choked with emotion.
Your father, the ever-composed king, has moisture in his eyes as he holds you close, “Our snow angel, our miracle.”
Charles pulls you into a tight embrace next, his voice a shaky whisper, “You did it.”
Max is grinning from ear to ear. “Told you, sis. Until the end of the race and beyond.”
***
“Look at them,” Max says, nudging you as the camera pans over the pit crews, each member prominently sporting a bright red ribbon. “All in solidarity.”
Charles beams, joining the conversation. “It was Max’s idea. The ribbons. Both teams were eager to join in.”
You’re touched, tears threatening to spill. “It’s incredible. Both of you, your teams ... I’m speechless.”
The commentator on the screen picks up on the theme. “For those just tuning in, both the Ferrari and Red Bull teams are wearing red ribbons today in support of aplastic anemia awareness, a personal cause for them given the recent battle of the Princess of Orange with the condition.”
Mid-race, Max’s voice crackles over the team radio, “This one’s for you, sis.”
Charles, not to be outdone, pushes his car to the limit, the red ribbon painted on his helmet clearly visible every time the camera focuses on him.
Later, as you walk back out through the paddock, fans approach, many sporting red ribbons of their own. One young girl looks at you with stars in her eyes, “I wear this for my mom. She’s fighting too, just like you did.”
You pull her into a gentle hug. “She’s got this. I know she does.”
***
As soon as the statement goes live on the official website of the Netherlands Royal Family, the internet erupts.
The Royal House of the Netherlands is pleased to announce that Her Royal Highness, Y/N the Princess of Orange, and Mr. Charles Leclerc are officially courting.
Your phone buzzes incessantly with notifications. Charles, seated beside you, chuckles, “Well, there’s no going back now.”
Your father enters the room, a smile playing on his lips. “The people seem to be taking the news ... enthusiastically.”
Your mother, scrolling through her own device, adds, “And overwhelmingly positively. Listen to this: We’ve seen them together. Their chemistry is undeniable. Wishing them all the best!”
You exhale, a weight lifting off your shoulders. “I was so nervous about the reaction.”
Charles brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, “We’re in this together, remember?”
Max bursts into the room with his usual energy, “You two are trending. The fans are loving it!”
Screens across the nation flash images of you and Charles — at the racetrack, during hospital visits, candid moments captured by keen-eyed photographers. Talk shows and news channels dive deep into analyzing your relationship, piecing together any crumbs of insight they might have.
A popular racing pundit remarks on a live broadcast, “Their bond is evident, both on and off the track. Charles’ performance has been exceptional since they've been together. It’s clear that they draw strength from each other.”
The public’s fascination is insatiable. Magazines are splashed with titles like Love in the Fast Lane. But despite the media frenzy, what touches you most are the personal messages. Fans share artwork, write songs, and pen heartfelt letters, celebrating love and the winding path that brought you both to this moment.
One evening, as you and Charles sit on the palace balcony overlooking the city, he turns to you, “They’re acting like we’re some sort of fairytale.”
You lean into him, “Maybe we are. It’s our story and I wouldn’t change a single thing.”
***
“You know,” your father begins, a playful glint in his eye as he slices into his steak, “I had an amusing conversation with Prince Albert the other day.”
Charles, taking a sip of his wine, raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Your father chuckles, “He said Monaco might need to extend an invitation for our next state visit given that we seem to have shared interests now.”
The table erupts in laughter. Your mother adds, teasingly, “And here I thought we were simply bonding over diplomatic ties.”
“So,” Max leans forward eagerly. “Any embarrassing stories about Y/N? I have to make up for all of the childhood adventures I’ve missed.”
“Oh, there are plenty! Remember the time she tried to drive a lawnmower and ended up in the rose bushes?” Your father says, trying to look serious.
Marianne chuckles, “Don’t remind me! Those were my favorite roses.”
You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “I was eight! And I thought it was a car!”
Charles grins, squeezing your hand under the table. “I can only imagine a mini version of you so determined behind the wheel.”
“And at her sixth birthday party,” your father recounts with a smirk, “she declared that she’d be ruling the kingdom by sundown and tried to hold a mock council meeting with her stuffed toys.”
Charles nudges you playfully, “Planning coups at six? Should I be worried?”
You swat him lightly, “It was a phase.”
As dessert is served, your mother turns contemplative. “You know, I’ve always believed in destiny. And seeing all of you here, witnessing the bonds and the love, it reaffirms that belief.”
Charles nods his agreement, “Life has a way of bringing the right people together.”
Your father raises his glass, “To family, in all its forms. To the journeys we embark on and the memories we create.”
The clinking of glasses has never sounded sweeter.
***
Charles, his face flushed with the victory of the 2025 World Championship, stands on the podium, trophy in hand. The cheering of the crowd is deafening but as he signals for a microphone, a hush descends.
“I’ve never done this before,” he starts emotionally, “naming my car, I mean. I watched Seb do it year after year and I always wondered what that felt like, to have such a connection.” He takes a deep breath, his gaze scanning the audience until it lands on you. “This season, I finally understood. My car, the one that just secured this championship, I named it after the most important person in my life.”
The crowd waits with bated breath.
“I named it,” he continues, his voice breaking slightly as he keeps his eyes locked on yours, “after you. After the woman who has been my anchor, my strength.”
You feel tears prickling your eyes as the sheer intensity of his words hits you.
Charles signals and you’re gently nudged forward, guided up to the podium. The world seems to blur, the noise, the people, everything fading until it’s just you and him.
“Every race, every lap, I had two goals: to win for the team and to make you proud,” he confesses, his eyes never leaving yours. “You are my world. And today, in front of everyone here, in front of the world, I want to ask you one thing.”
He gets down on one knee and your hands move of their own volition to cover your mouth. Producing a gorgeous ring, Charles looks up at you, his eyes shimmering. “Will you marry me?”
The world stops.
The deafening cheers of the crowd seem quiet compared to the beating of your heart.
Tears stream down your face as you nod. “Yes. A thousand times yes.”
No sooner have the words left your mouth than Max and Lando, the other two podium finishers, gleefully seize the moment. With mischievous grins, they uncork their champagne bottles, dousing both you and Charles in a bubbly shower. The liquid gold sparkles in the sunlight, adding to the magic of the moment.
Charles pulls you close, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss as you both get soaked.
***
The grand cathedral, bathed in the soft glow of a thousand candles, echoes with the hushed whispers of eagerly waiting guests. Roses, lilies, and orchids cascade down the pillars, their fragrance mingling with the scent of incense.
Behind the doors of the bridal suite, Max stands beside you, dressed impeccably in a classic tux. There’s a brotherly tenderness in his eyes as he reaches out, smoothing the delicate lace of your dress to ensure that every detail is perfect.
“You look breathtaking,” he murmurs, the emotion of the day making his voice waver.
“You clean up pretty well yourself, Man of Honor,” you reply, squeezing his hand.
As the first strains of the bridal march begin, the doors open, revealing the grand aisle, lined with well-wishers from all corners of the globe. Your father steps up and offers you his arm, his eyes glassy with pride and a hint of melancholy. “Ready, my snow angel?”
You nod, tears of happiness already blurring your vision. The world narrows down to the altar, where Charles stands, back straight in his crisp full dress uniform. As you make your way down the aisle, your eyes lock with his and the universe contracts to that singular point of connection.
Charles’ normally composed features give way as he takes in the sight of you. His eyes, also glistening with tears, convey a depth of feeling that words could never capture. Love, gratitude, wonder — all interwoven in that magnetic gaze.
His voice breaks as he whispers just for you, “You are my dream, my reality, my forever.”
Your own voice is thick with emotion, “And you are my heart, my soul, my love.”
As vows are exchanged and promises made, the world bears witness to a love that defied odds, overcame challenges, and brought together not just two souls but two worlds.
And as you both seal your commitment with a kiss, there is not a single dry eye in the cathedral. Because love, true love, is a force to be reckoned with, and today, it reigns supreme.
***
The soft whimpers of a newborn fill the air of the private birthing suite. Nestled in your arms, wrapped in a royal blue blanket, the baby prince stirs, his tiny fingers curling around one of yours.
Charles, sitting beside you, gazes down at your son with sheer wonder. “He’s perfect,” he says in a teary whisper.
You nod, tears streaming down your face. “Our little miracle.” The journey, the IVF treatments with your frozen eggs , the hope, the fear — everything culminated in this singular, beautiful moment.
The door opens gently, revealing Max, his eyes wide as they take in the sight before him, and your parents, their faces a canvas of joy and pride.
Max approaches tentatively, his usual confidence replaced by an awe-inspired reverence. “May I?” He asks softly.
You nod, handing over the precious bundle. As Max holds the baby, a bond forms instantly. “Hey there, little one,” he coos, “Your godfather is here.”
Your mother, tears in her eyes, leans in, planting a gentle kiss on your son’s forehead. “Welcome to the world, our precious grandchild.”
Your father, hoarse with emotion, simply murmurs, “An angel for our snow angel.”
And you know what? You decide that the fans were right. Your life really is a fairytale.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#charles leclerc#cl16#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc blurb#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 angst#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n#scuderia ferrari#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc drabble
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
i’m being so serious rn i’m going to need tg to stop glomping onto half of rhaenyra’s kids 🫨
jace would NEVER abandon his family to back aegon’s claim (‘wah wah wah he HATES his mother bc she *made* him a bastard-’ one, jace does not care enough about that to abandon his mother [to whom he is literally the miniature version of] and two, his entire personality is his love for his family. he literally dies trying to save aegon and viserys *after* his mom told him not to go fuck OFF).
rhaena would also *never* abandon her family to back aegon’s claim (apparently she’ll feel sorry about blood & cheese and want to make amends with them. i don’t think so, i think she’d be more upset that her betrothed was ruthlessly slaughtered despite his status as a peace envoy but whatever).
baela is one of rhaenyra’s staunchest supporters (‘the greens reach to usurp our queen’s throne and they must be answer with fire and blood.’ i DO NOT care that it didn’t make it into the show that is canon!baela) and does *not* want driftmark (which only corlys has a say in, and he chose bAsTaRdS over her and rhaena at every single turn don’t even mention it), so stop trying to conflate your hatred of rhaenyra onto her daughter.
aegon iii would never have been happy married to jaehaera and vice versa. these were two heavily traumatized children. jaehaera would have to deal with being married to the son of the man who had her brother executed (not to mention that she already had severe physical and mental health issues that were not being treated and the people around her [aegon ii before he died and alicent after] were actively making her life worse). aegon would have to deal with being married to the daughter of the man who had his dragon burn and eat his mother alive while he watched. which he never ended up letting go of (even with a wife who we know he obviously loved dearly) he wore black for the rest of his life and was stated to be the most solemn king due to what he experienced during the dance. there was no saving them.
leave. them. alone.
#fire and blood#house of the dragon#rhaenyra targaryen#jacaerys velaryon#rhaena of pentos#baela targaryen#aegon iii targaryen#mini rant#pro team black#anti team green#anti team green stans#y’all do not CARE about these kids#you just want to use them as scapegoats to prop up your actual favs#luke joff and both vis’ are usually left alone#bc luke is the reincarnation of all things evil#joff is considered the biggest dumbass#viserys is forgotten about#and visenya is used to make fun of rhaenyra for losing her long awaited daughter#keep my team black kids away from the targtowers 2k24
204 notes
·
View notes
Note
What are you favorite things about Dickkory?
Please and Thank You☺️
SO. MANY. THINGS!!!
Where do I start?!
Their freedom
Their dedication
Their dynamic
Ok so my favorite thing - well one of three favorite things - about Dick and Kory is that they just let each other be who they are.
What I mean is Dick never tells Kori she has to look a certain way, act a certain way, or talk a certain way. Obviously he's going to stop her from killing people but he loves her for who she is.
Secret Origins (1986) Issue #13
This means the WORLD to me because EVERYONE loves Kori for her body canonically. Like every single guy is just so turned on by her looks but for Dick that doesn't matter. He loves her wholely and purely. I'm tearing up a little by how much respect he gives her.
The New Titans (1988) Issue #71
You have no idea how happy his words make me. He never ever EVER blames Kori for the way she dresses or restricts her in any fashion. He's always extremely supportive of her. If she wants to do modeling? He's all for it. If she wants to go dancing? He's right there with her. She wants to try something new? He's helping her. He is SUCH a supportive boyfriend in everything she does. The killing is still off-limits ofcourse but everything else he loves her so much. He loves her for who she is not how she looks.
The New Titans (1988) Issue #71
He NEVER puts her down. And she never puts him down. They're supportive. And this I can appreciate even more because some of Dick's other love interests have it out for him. They get some type of power play about digging open his insecurities and throwing his faults in his face but not her. He's aware of his own faults, he doesn't need that to be used as a weapon against him like some more modern love interests do. Kori's understanding and loving and in response to that Dick treats her like a queen.
That's the first reason. The second reason is they help each other.
Dick can be difficult to deal with because he locks his emotions away. When he feels stressed he isolates himself because he doesn't want to talk to anyone about how he's feeling. But Kori? She doesn't resent him for that. She actually patiently tries to get him to open up. She's understanding and loving of him and his situation. I love them because when things get hard they don't just abandon each other, move on, and then get back together again after they've solved their own problems alone - no. They work hard to work through it together.
The New Teen Titans (1980) Issue #28
Dick and Kori come from vastly different cultures and have different beliefs so this causes problems. Here Dick's contemplating settling down with Kori because of how she kills people.
The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #13
But in the face of it all, losing her is imporant to him that their difference in values
The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #14
The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #15
The thing about Dick and Kori having problems is that it's inspiring. Like you see all the troubles they faced, all the hardships, differences, and difficulties they went and it's amazing. Because Dick and Kori come from two different world. Literally. But they worked hard on their relationship. They worked through their differences because they loved each other so much that they wanted to stay together.
We could've have Dick and Kory forever if the real life Batman office writers hadn't broken off their wedding because they wanted to take Dick away from the Titans and give him to Batman. Do you realize what this means? If DC writers Dick hadn't been ripped away and Kori hadn't been disparaged by them, we would STILL be reading about Dick and Kory now. They would've been married and had kids by now.
But that brings me to my point - their love is amazing because they worked on the things that were different. It's awe-inspiring to love someone so much that you'll stay with them through anything.
Dickkory is my number one romantic pair for this reason. The problems that Dick has faced in his subsequent relationships is NOTHING compared to what he worked through with Kori. Which is why it frustrates me when a love interest abandons him at first stirrings of trouble because "hello? what you're getting now is cleaned up dick grayson. This is like playing a game on easy mode and still failing. If you can't be there for him when he has his act together, how could you ever be there for him when he's truly struggling?"
Going back to the scene at hand, Dick still stays with Kori but Kori is forced to marry another man at her father's orders and this is what breaks them apart. Because Kori is married to Ryand'r and Dick loves her. But despite this?
The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #32
For Dick on the other hand it takes a case for him to understand -
The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #34
But he gets it.
The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #34
They come back stronger than ever.
Their love is the greatest romance of the ages for this reason. Your partner is your confidant. When the whole world turns against you, YOU need to be there by their side and they need to stand by you through everything. If you suddenly go from being rich to dirt poor, your parents abandon you, your friends betray you - the greatest love is standing with your partner through everything.
And Dick loves Kori for this too
Tales of the Teen Titans Issue #44
And that's what they embody and that's why I respect them.
Their relationship isn't a shattered vase glued together, their relationship is a muscle growth. You exercise, you stress the muscle and tear it. It causes you pain but that tear heals and the result is a stronger muscle and a healtier and fitter body. They're just so great.
So the second reason was their dedication to each other. The third reason is I love their dynamic!!
Kori is aggressive and strong but loving where as Dick is softer and strong but loving. It's like a girlboss and powerful malewife dynamic. Dick is phsycially shorter and smaller than Kori and Kori taller than him. They way she carries him around and touches him and holds him?!
The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #15
The way that Dick gets so jealous and tries to show off for Kori only for his mount to slip off the cliff is so cute!! To everyone Dick is this cool, sexy, intelligent, perfect figure. The only time he gets childlishly jealous and reckless is when he's with Kori. And then having Kori bridal carry him after his mistake is just priceless.
But Dick doesn't begrudge Kori for this. What I love about Dick loving Kori is that he loves her for her power.
The Flash (1987) Issue #81
Dick thirsting for people who can pick him up and throw him around will always be my favorite part of him.
"I love that in a woman."
Yeah, Dick, we can hear that loud and clear. See it too.
LIKE LOOK AT THIS!!!-
Dark Knights of Steel Issue #7
With Kori there's no hesitation to give Dick affirmation.
Tales of the Teen Titans Issue #50
The New Teen Titans (1980) Issue #2
Tales of the Teen Titans Issue #49
Everyone in the entirety of DC knows that Dick is exceedingly pretty. Even villains regularly call him out on it. But it's SO nice to hear his girlfriend tell him that in such an honest and nice non-sleezy way. And that's my probably most favorite thing about them. This girlboss/malewife dynamic they have going on. They're equals but it's not the usual dynamic where the guy showers the girl with compliments and she's satisfied back. She tells him of her own volition how much she loves him and how beautiful he looks. She carries him around and is aggressive in their love. And I just love that so much.
Their love overall is just off the charts.
The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #39
The New Teen Titans (1980) Issue #38
Teen Titans Spotlight (1988) Issue #19
The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #10
#dick grayson#nightwing#koriand'r#starfire#dickkori#dickkory#cl confusedhummingbird asks#cl asks#thanks for the ask!
168 notes
·
View notes
Text
Maneater girlfriend - Multimuse x fem!reader
Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Some mentions of mvrder, not much honestly, some jealousy, but I think that’s it?
Type: Blerps
Request: N/A
Word Count: N/A
Prompt: The muses get maneater girlfriends, how they’d react/act about it.
Notes: Honestly, I know some of us may not always feel like it, but it’s fun to pretend. Just like miss Maddie Perez and my queen Rihanna said, even if you don’t feel like it just pretend. Love my maneater readers. Ps. this isn’t exclusively for fem readers, it can really be for anyone. kiss kiss.
I don’t really know what I was going for, I’m just trying to get my juices going, pls don’t hate. Will probably delete this one tbh
Jason Voorhees: Gets so starstruck around you. It’s actually super cute, he never fails to boost your confidence. No matter what you choose to wear, Jason will stare at you all the time in awe, which of course makes you feel like the prettiest person he’s ever seen. Especially when you decide to go all out, he just becomes a puddle. Jason would literally worship the ground you walk on, you definitely have him under your spell. If you want a fan for a boyfriend, Jason’s the one. The only con is that he’d probably forget to take pictures of you because he’s just daydreaming about his hot s/o.
Michael Myers: Honestly didn’t expect any less, but he is a tiny itsy bitsy threatened by your confidence. Depending on the status of your relationship, it could go one of two ways: He could be completely confident, obviously mopping the floor with the guts of the people who couldn’t keep their eyeballs to themselves, or he could be somewhat weary of the attention you get, no matter who it is. Michael definitely has one of the most toxic abandonment issues, but it’s not like you’d be able to get rid of him, he’d get rid of everyone around you before you could even think about skipping town. Michael would stare a little longer on the days you wear more revealing clothing, it’s your confidence that sells the whole look, he’s absolutely mesmerized by you.
Tiffany Valentine: All for it. Wouldn’t hesitate for a second to help you get into your outfit or finish up your makeup/hair. You’d catch her staring from time to time, which she’d laugh it off not expecting to be caught. I could see her getting jealous at times if it seems like someone has your attention and if they cross a line, a knife crosses their artery, no hesitation. Tiffany would absolutely take pictures of you and post you all over her social media, she wouldn’t mind the thirst comments you’d get, after all you were hers. Tiffany would definitely boost your confidence and you’d both become the ultimate deadliest hot couple.
Billy Loomis: Ok, controversial opinion, but Billy isn’t really used to having maneater girlies. He’s used to having cute, beautiful women, but no one willing to stare daggers into your eyes from across the room. He’s absolutely mesmerized, without knowing it, he’d do anything for you. Billy cannot keep his hands to himself, no matter what you’re wearing, or what you’re not wearing. He’s not the best at taking pictures of you, but you’re damn right he’d keep every picture of you he can get a hold of. Sure he can get jealous, but he also knows he has you wrapped around his finger and no one else.
Stu Macher: Everyone expects Stu to have the hottest girl in school, this is no exception. The way you don’t look away when you catch him staring at you is enough to make him fall in love. As much as I love Stu, I know he’s superficial, so if your looks caught his eye, he would do his best to make your relationship work. Even if it means he has to get the right angles when taking pictures of you. Stu would absolutely brag about you, first about how you look then about what you do or what your interests are. Just like Jason, unintentionally, Stu would worship the ground you walk on.
Patrick Bateman: Ok honestly what else did you expect. Just like Stu, Patrick is superficial. He always wants to make sure he has the hottest/most confident person within 1000 miles. He’d never admit how he likes your lack of interest in impressing every person you meet. That’s probably the trick. Patrick will never forget the times you’d be approached by wealthy men, or simply attractive people that you just couldn’t care for. That would be one of Patrick’s biggest flexes. Of course he’d always want you to look your best, so he does his part in boosting your confidence through pictures, outfits and compliments. Patrick isn’t shy about showing you off.
Leatherface: Just like Jason, he’s stuck. He can’t believe someone like you is interested in him. You are the prettiest most beautiful creature he’s ever seen. Bubba would absolutely worship the floor you walk on. He’s at your beck and call. He’d do whatever he could to impress you, getting you flowers, learning to make your favorite meals, helping you around the house. He’d do anything to spend time with you and just stare at you. He absolutely loves having printed pictures of you, even if getting him a shirt with your face on it was a joke, he’d absolutely wear it without hesitation. To him, your face is a work of art that should be appreciated.
Billy Hargrove: Honestly, didn’t know what he was getting himself into until he realized how much attention you actually got when you’d clean up. At first he didn’t know how to handle it exactly. Of course, Billy would play it off, knowing if you would wander off, he wouldn’t waste his time. Still, that doesn’t mean he wasn’t completely infatuated with you. Your mannerisms are what kept his attention. He can’t describe it, but it’s definitely your aura that intoxicates him. The fact that others would consider you a “maneater” and that it was Billy Hargrove that pulled you? (I mean of course he did right?) he’d hesitate to admit that it boosted his ego a little bit, but he made sure others kept their hands to themselves.
Steve Harrington: Steve would be a little more confident than the rest on this list I’d say. He knows you’re hot and he would remind you that all the time. “Well when I first saw you, I’m not gonna lie I thought you’d like, throw a drink at me and tell me to get lost. I don’t know how long I’ve been staring” Of course, being out if it got out of hand with others, Steve wouldn’t hesitate to step in, but otherwise, he’s of course constantly staring at you with a big dorky smile. He’d find any excuse to take pictures of you, even if you’re just relaxing. For sure he’d keep a picture of you in his car.
Bruce Wayne: An awkward little mess. Just the kind to stand there and look at you from afar. During the night, in his double life, he’d keep a tab on you. Of course if you went out frequently, it would only give him more of an excuse to try to bump into you. At first it’d be to just get a glimpse of you, later on to get to know you. Bruce was a billionaire, there must’ve been hundreds of models and wealthy women trying to tie him down and yet there you were not able to get more than a few sentences out of him. Eventually after he powered through to actually ask you out, he would do his best to make sure you were in the finest of clothing and enjoyed all kinds of luxuries. Even from time to time, you’d catch him staring from afar. Other times, you’d find magazines with you and him pictures laying about, but he’d never admit he just loved the way you would photograph.
Steve Rogers: Of course he was used to being among the most desired men to date, but that doesn’t mean at times he still seemed to fail at asking anyone out on a date. Especially you, who would just stare right through the men that would be entitled enough to think you were already interested in them. Eventually though, you managed to cross paths and who could really resist Steve’s charm? Just like the rest on this list, you’d catch him staring, but at times his gaze seems more sinister than the rest. Of course Steve would encourage you to dress whatever way you felt best in, but don’t put it past him to lay a hand over your ass in public when he’d feel the slightest bit of eyes on you.
Loki Laufeyson: His argument would be that he was a prince, of course he would have a maneater s/o, what else did anyone expect. Still, deep down there was a weary feeling of insecurity at times, especially growing under his brothers shadow. That’s when he’d become overly protective around you, when anyone else was present, but even more around his brother. Even if Thor swore to never lay but a finger on you unless you needed saving, Loki would be incredibly possessive. He’d never admit it, but you mesmerized him, he wasn’t shy about admiring you even at times when you’d catch him.
Spencer Reid: Kind of funny that you’d both fit the “nerd x maneater” trope, but I mean, of course you did. Just like Loki, there would be a tiny feeling of insecurity, but Spencer would trust you unless you gave him a reason not to. There would be a little bit more pressure on him to keep alert when you were out in public, even if you knew how to defend yourself. Spencer would love to take pictures of you and use them as bookmarks or keep them framed. He’d need a ton of reassurance and he’d be honest about it. I think he’d be the healthiest on this list about this trope, kinda cute. Would NOT be happy about the team suggesting to use you as bait though.
#Jason Voorhees x reader#Michael Myers x Reader#Tiffany Valentine x Reader#Patrick Bateman x Reader#Leatherface x Reader#Billy Loomis x Reader#Stu Macher x Reader#Steve Rogers x Reader#Billy Hargrove x Reader#Steve Harrington x Reader#Battinson x Reader#Loki Laufeyson x Reader#Spencer Reid x Reader
638 notes
·
View notes
Text
And just to be clear, it wasn't just Izzy's death or the way it happened that I found incredibly disappointing about that finale. For that matter, while there were some great moments, the entire season felt rushed and incomplete, with a lot of decisions that just baffled me.
The Olu/Zheng/Jim/Archie polycule got no resolution whatsoever and just felt crappily done. It felt like Jim and Olu transitioned from romantic to platonic between seasons and then got shoved at new love interests, instead of actually grappling with the interesting poly dynamics, jealousy, NRE, insecurity, etc., that they could have engaged with. And to be clear I LOVED every moment of Olu/Zheng and Jim/Archie! But it felt like the show didn't believe you can have meaningful romantic relationships with multiple people at the same time, so they had to make it as if Jim and Olu's romantic sexual encounter at the end of last season didn't mean anything and that the two of them are perfectly happy being chosen siblings. This after Oluwande is explicitly described as in love with Jim in the first season! WTF?
It also felt like they just abandoned Lucius and Pete being poly in favor of having a cutesy wedding? Like don’t get me wrong, yay for weddings, but honestly it felt very mononormative and forced instead of queer and affirming. Even if Lucius had like, kissed Fang on the lips right after, or if they'd had more affection shown between the whole crew during the wedding, that would have been something. It just felt off.
Zheng felt like a wasted character by the end. Her just letting Ricky know where all her ships were was unbelievable for how competent and badass they made her out to be, and literally her only impact on the plot was serving as a vehicle to drive Stede from place to place. Also just killing off her entire crew other than Auntie? Hundreds of mostly Asian women? Yeah, that's not a good look.
Why did they feel the need to destroy the Republic of Pirates, for that matter? What actual plot or emotional growth did it create? At the end of Episode 7, I expected Stede to have to grapple with how he's managed to not just bring down Blackbeard but the *entire Republic of Pirates* and *the Pirate Queen of China* to add to his whole "I ruin beautiful things" trauma and instead he just doesn't seem to care at all. Like how did he get from all of his trauma and grief about being inadequate in the first season—the actual trauma that led him to leave Ed in the first place—to "oh, it's not so bad being a failure once you get used to it"?!?! Throughout the season I kept thinking that he was repressing and it would come back up to bite him in the ass but no, apparently he just fixed that issue offscreen? What the hell?
And it was the same with Ed! After all that build up in the first season about how Ed doesn’t like to kill people directly—and maintaining that through the first two episodes, even, which was hard! We never see him directly kill anyone! The guy he shot had already been run through!—he’s literally joking while surrounded by corpses he killed and the show barely addressed the trauma that the character we knew would have experienced. Just a completely dropped note. What happened to Ed's self-hatred that they spent an entire dream sequence episode establishing?
Ed and Stede’s actual conflicts and problems just basically disappeared at the end, with a “oh I actually do love you, babe” glossing over Ed’s very legit reasons for leaving and then Stede (apparently?!?) being convinced to give up piracy without a second of screen time spent discussing it. If felt like they were actually setting them up to just be the toxic lesbians from episode four, how is that a satisfying finale? I honestly would have rather had them end the season apart again, but this time knowing they love each other and they have to do some work to get back to each other. Like, Stede sailing into the sunset after kissing Ed and promising to come back and Ed going "i trust that you will, thank you for giving me the space I need to heal"—that would have been a satisfying place to leave them.
And then Izzy's death... don't get me fucking started on what a complete waste of screen time and acting that was. Wow.
171 notes
·
View notes
Text
"We don't treat Elain and Nesta the same because Elain Apologised,"
Elain and Nesta aren't the same people. They can't be compared. While I understand that Nesta said some cruel things in that cabin, so did Feyre. While Nesta could've made things a bit easier on all of them, so could Feyre. They both have reasons to apologise to one another, so if you're going to condemn Nesta for not doing so, then Feyre deserves the same treatment.
But if Nesta did want to apologise, what makes you think it would be the second that Feyre got back? And in front of fae, no less. Nesta is complicated character who carries herself with pride and is considered a very private person, and is described as being queen like multiple times. The two have more issues to work through than just a few mean comments, and the moments they have the most sincere heart to hearts, are when they're alone. Without Rhysand peering from behind a door way, listening in and commentating whenever he feels like.
Looking back, in ACOTAR 1, we learn some of the myths humans tell about the Fae including that they can't lie, and they have to and that if you catch one, then it has to tell you what you want to know. Both of those turn out to be false, since fae can lie, and Ianthe caught the Surreal, but we learn in ACOWAR that it wouldn't tell her anything.
We can assume this means that the rules the fae follow in our mythology are the same ones that humans believe about fae in ACOTAR, meaning it's a fair assumption that one of the many stories about fae include never letting yourself be indebted to them. Saying things like 'thank you' or 'I'm sorry' comes across like as owing them something, and Nesta is, at this point, under the impression that doing so will cause the fae to hold it over her head and use to demand things of her for as long as she lives, if not ask something straight up impossible to make her more indebted to them.
On top of that, Feyre just asked her for a favour that could get her and Elain killed. The Mortal Queens could've just decided to have Elain and Nesta arrested and executed for collaborating with fae, or have them exiled even. It wasn't a small thing that Feyre asked for, and basically peer pressured her into, with Elain. So it's understandable that pleasantries and apologies are the last things on her mind, when her and Elain's life could be forfeit at any moment.
Even if Rhysand offers to protect them, what could he do? Nesta's under the impression that the Fae hate humans, look down on them and would treat them horribly if she crossed into their lands. Moreover, she has a whole life there, that they're suggesting she could drop to move to the other end of the country without so much as a message to their father? Or an idea of what's waiting for them? To abandon their home, friends, family and peoeple?
For what? Potential servitude? Amongst creatures she were taught were slave driving monsters? To live under her little sister's rule (cause even if she wasn't HL at this point, as fae, she has significant power over Nesta. Plus the ruler of said land they're offering to take her too openly favours Feyre, and kind of Elain but hates her, so she'd basically still be living by Feyre's whims) for the rest of her short life? Literally what part of that is appealing?
So Nesta not apologising to Feyre at that dinner, makes sense. Our girl had bigger things to worry about. She probably would have if she Feyre didn't outright abandon her to deal with her trauma alone, only showing up when she wanted to parade Nesta around at parties for her own joy, without considering how it feels to her. Or when her court, who don't like her and whom she doesn't like either, show up to insult her, and blame her for having trauma.
If Feyre and Nesta had more moments like the one in the library, or the one all three had after Az and Feyre rescued Elain, Nesta would've likely healed and apologised on her own. If the IC had just stayed out of it, then all three sisters would've figured things out, on their own. The IC just want something to complain about, so like the CON and the HC, they make a problem, and they complain that it exists.
Also, if I remember right, Feyre herself said she wanted to start over at that dinner. So unless Feyre or Nesta want to bring it up or talk about it, why does any of her family get to hold it over her head for the rest of immortality? Feyre literally just called it water under the bridge and all three of them were going through their own shit at the time, so let them actually work through their own issues privately, and I'll bet that they'll solve it on their own within a year.
#anti inner circle#anti rhysand#anti acosf#pro nesta#nesta deserves better#anti ic#pro nesta archeron#anti amren#anti mor#nesta acotar#nesta archeron deserves better#acosf#The IC need to learn to mind their own business#101 problems could be soled if they all kept their own forked tongues behind their teeth#They are literally the ones causing problems.
63 notes
·
View notes
Text
— Gentleman | h.js (M)
genre ➳ sugar daddy au, strangers to lovers, pwp, angst and fluff. part of the Sugar Spice and Everything Nice project.
pairing ➳ dom!Joshua x sub!inexperienced!female reader
word count ➳ 21.2k
warnings ➳ profanities, ANGST, abandonment issues, toxic family, minor character death, mentions of addiction (drugs), emotional constipation, arguments, kissing, marking, age gap, daddy kink, hard dom!joshua (he is a gentleman in the streets and a freak in the sheets literally 🥴) brat!reader, so much teasing!!! bdsm themes- nipple play, marking, fingering, ice play😳, spanking (belt), pussy slapping, crying, female oral, cum eating, virgin sex, rough sex, unprotected sex(don't do this irl!!!), creampie, multiple sex scenes (lmk if I forgot smth)
synopsis ➳ a silly dare leads you to him and he has you charmed quickly. but matters of the heart can never be that easy, especially when you want to avoid them.
playlist ➨ sugar daddy- queen herby // sugar- maroom 5 // guys my age- hey violet // i know you care- ellie goulding // astronomy- conan gray // tell it to my heart- meduza // soory- halsey // one last night- vaults // i fell in love with the devil- avril lavinge // imperfect love- seventeen
a/n: (yes this is a re-upload, I hate Tumblr it still isn't showing my post in tags wtf) and at last we're at the end of this journey! I can't tell you how much of a pleasure it has been for me to share this series with you all. i gotta admit I went all out for this one like-jsvvabakasbvsvs joshua is such a freak here and it's hawt okay. i'd also like to sincerely apologize for the delay. now, without further ado, get cozy and happy reading!
His eyes are extraordinary, captivating.
They are beautiful and dark, shaped like a deer's, watching your every movement cautiously. You do the same as your hands fidget with the strap of your bag on your lap. The waiter returns, bringing you your iced tea and a cup of latte for him. You quickly take a sip of your tea, letting the refreshing drink bring back life in your throat as he does the same.
You observe him, eyes peeking over the rim of the glass. He's wearing a black suit with a plain white tee beneath it. The only jewelry on him is a Rolex, sitting cozily on his wrist, which is quite veiny. His dirty blond hair is pushed back neatly, the length long enough to reach the nape of his neck and you mindlessly muse how they'd feel to touch.
"So, you are saying this was a dare?" The man questions.
An embarrassed smile creeps on your face. "Yeah, my friends dared me to do this. And I saw some good reviews about this app so I decided, why not."
Meeting this stranger, a potential sugar daddy was a task assigned to you by your friends after a drunken night full of talks about your celibate lifestyle. Not wanting to look like a coward, you took on their dare and decided to sign up on a sugar dating app that led you to meet this beautiful man in front of you; something you entirely did not expect.
What you expected, instead was a fifty-something man, old and gross and you had planned to just entertain him for a while before announcing this was a stupid dare and never coming near him again.
Yeah, that was the plan.
After all, the texts you had exchanged with this man weren't really a solid way to figure out his age. They were short and brief, just introductions and the designated place of meeting. His profile picture wasn't frankly very giving either; a silhouette of a man sipping on a wine glass with an aesthetic backdrop. You had decided not to ask for a photo or any other information because you didn't want to lose interest even before going on that date.
But turns out, there had been a pleasant surprise waiting for you.
"That's all good but what I need to know is are you really looking for a sugar daddy? Otherwise, I should get going." The man, Joshua, states, hands coming to rest on top of the table, his eyes serious yet gentle. He has this calm yet dominating aura surrounding him and you can't help but admit that it draws you in.
Am I looking for a sugar daddy?
You haven't considered this seriously until now. It was supposed to be a one-time thing, meeting an old dude and flipping him off just so you can tell your friends you tried and ended up meeting a grandpa with stinky feet but now that a young, handsome billionaire sits opposite to you, you find yourself reconsidering everything.
This is a marvelous opportunity for a broke college student like you. Your bills and loans will be paid while also providing a much more comfortable life for you, one where you don't have to live in an apartment the size of a shoebox.
"Are you looking for a sugar baby?" You ask him instead. The corners of his mouth turn upwards slightly as he replies, "I'm here, aren't I?"
You nod, reclining into the chair and sighing deeply. "I do actually. Need a sugar daddy, I mean. Like— I haven't really considered this seriously because...well," you shrug, not wanting to point out how pleasantly surprised you are seeing him and all his hotness. You don't want to butter his ego on the first meeting. "Anyway, yes. I have bills and loans to pay. So I guess I'll be your sugar baby...if you're interested."
He watches you amusedly, his eyes shining in mirth. "Of course I am. I must admit I find you very... fascinating. It will be my pleasure to be in your company."
Fascinating, huh?
"You've known me for like ten minutes."
"And that's enough." He decides, reaching for his latte to take a sip, never breaking eye contact with you. You wait for him to explain further and he takes the hint as he links his fingers together, once again resting them on the table, his posture all business-like. "I've never had a sugar baby but I assure you, you don't have to do anything that you're not comfortable with. For now, I'd like you to attend events with me as my date."
Such a gentleman.
"I'm more than happy to do that." You say gladly, trying to prevent a smile from breaking into your face. Is it gonna be this easy? Do men this nice and sweet even exist anymore? "But I don't understand why you would go out of your way to spend money for some company. I'm sure there is plenty of people...interested."
Joshua chuckles. "But I'm not interested in them. They are predictable and have a rather plain personality. I thought taking a new approach would be good. And I'm glad I did because you seem quite like a handful."
"I'll take it as a compliment." You mutter dryly, eyes narrowing on him. He laughs, his eyes forming half-moons. "It was a compliment, _____. I'm looking forward to spending time with you."
You open your mouth to reply but the loud ringing of his phone interrupts you as he mumbles an apology, fishing out the device from his pocket. He frowns at the screen before sighing. "I'm really sorry but I need to get going. I'll contact you. And if you need me, you know my number." He flashes you a dashing, almost flirty smile as he stands up and nods at you before accepting the call and marching out of the place, leaving you in a daze.
You can't believe that just really happened. You have a freaking sugar daddy now— not an old man with a huge belly and stinky feet but a young, hot gentleman. Shaking your head amusedly you fetch your phone from your purse and tap on your group chat with your girlfriends.
GUYS YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED!!! I NEED TO THANK YOU TWO!!
-
"So you're saying he's young and handsome and polite?" Kira asks for the hundredth time, sighing wistfully. "Damn, maybe I should try that app too."
"You really should." You take a bite of your french toast. "All the reviews I saw were great but I can't believe I got so lucky."
Naomi murmurs under her breath, "Fuck yeah, you did girl." Her fingers glide over her phone as she googles the man centering on the topic of your discussion. "Joshua you said? Of Hong Corporations?"
Humming, you nod, watching your friends as they hover over the phone, intently watching all the information that shows up. "He's so damn hot," Naomi whistles, giving you a dirty look. You roll your eyes and before you can make a comeback, Kira asks bluntly. "You're gonna have sex with him right? He wants to get dirty with you, right?"
You groan, tossing the napkin by your plate at her. "Shut up! Sorry to disappoint but he actually said that he won't do anything that'll make me uncomfortable. He didn't seem desperate for sex."
"Such a gentleman," Naomi pipes in, her voice dreamy. "But what's the fun in that! He's literally sex on legs! You gotta do it with him!" Kira's voice is loud, so loud that a few heads from the surroundings tables turn to look at you, making your face burn in embarrassment. Kira giggles sheepishly before whispering. "Seriously. It's time you pop your cherry."
You scowl at her while Naomi snorts, covering her face as she tries to laugh discreetly. You sigh. "You all are moving way too fast here. I just saw him once! What if he decides he doesn't wanna do this? I've yet to hear from him." You murmur, your voice more anxious than you would have wanted it to be.
A somber look settles on their faces as your friends watch you sympathetically for a while. Kira reaches out to grab your hands in reassurance. "Hey. Babe, it's gonna be all good. Of course, he'll call you. He's a freaking businessman. He wouldn't have wasted his time if he was not interested."
"Yep. You just need to be patient _____. Don't worry so much. Trust the process." Naomi smiles at you softly.
"Good things don't really happen to me, so..." You avert your gaze, chewing on your lower lip. You hate yourself for ruining the mood, for feeling pathetic and doubtful.
Old habits die hard, you suppose.
"Hey," Kira calls for you. "It's gonna be all fine. Trust yourself, okay? And you know what, let's stop talking about him. You won't believe what Soonyoung asked me last night."
"What?" Naomi asks dryly as you both wait for her answer. "He freaking asked me if he can buy a tiger suit for us so that he can fuck me while wearing it." She replies as your jaw falls loose.
"No way!" You and Naomi yell at the same time. "Oh my god, he's fucking nuts." Naomi groans and so do you as you ask. "What did you say? Please tell me you didn't—"
Kira interrupts. "I said yes. I mean, I don't mind. I'm kinda interested, actually."
"Oh, sweet lord!"
"No fucking way!" You and Naomi gag.
-
Everyone has ups and downs in their lives. But for the majority of your life, you remember only experiencing downs. At first, it frustrated you to no end, making you feel unbelievably lost and hopeless but now you've come to accept it. You try to be content with what little you have and you always keep your expectations to the lowest.
College has been hard and expensive but the thought of letting go of your dreams is harder. Your dreams are what have kept you alive and strong through all the downs you have faced, so even though you had to take a huge loan and juggle two part-time jobs, you tell yourself it will all be worth it in the end. And maybe, fate has finally smiled upon you by bringing Joshua to you.
It has been two days since you met him and you have to admit anxiety is settling in your bones. The radio silence is disheartening, making you expect the very worst, like a habit. As you sit in your bed and overthink all your brain juices out, your phone rings, making you jump. The caller ID is unknown and with a frown, you pick it up.
"Hey. It's me."
It's him. Joshua.
Your heart beats loudly.
"Hi."
"Sorry, I was really busy the last few days. But I expected your call." He says.
"You said you'd call me." Your voice has an edge to it, almost like a sad lover who had been waiting for her boyfriend to call.
He laughs softly. "That I did. I apologize. And I was hoping you could accompany me to a dinner this Friday."
You bite your lip. "I don't mind. I mean, I'm free."
"Lovely." He hums. "I'll send you the contract of your payments via email. Let me know if you have any complaints."
"Oh...okay. I will."
"Good. I need to get going," he sighs. "I'll see you this weekend, sweetheart. Dream of me." He hangs up with a promise.
Letting out a wistful sigh, you take a look around your tiny apartment, all your things filling up every inch of available space and leaving barely any room for air. Sighing, you fall back into your bed, smiling softly.
It's all about to change.
-
The past three weeks have probably been the most eventful weeks of your life. Joshua was quick to welcome you into his circle as you first showed up with him at the company dinner. The money that you are being rewarded with after every appearance is equal to months of your rent and let out a squeal of glee when you checked your bank account the next morning.
However, his generosity didn't stop there. Over the weeks, he has sent you the prettiest bouquet of flowers with little thank you notes, sometimes chocolates too. He also sent over a pair of designer shoes and a handbag, making you almost faint as you felt the smooth, luxurious item below your fingertips for the first time. Sure, you expected to be a bit richer after agreeing to go out with him but you didn't expect these random, dare you say, romantic gifts every often.
Over the last few weeks, Joshua has also developed a habit of coming over to your place, just to chat while having a meal. It surprisingly feels nice and comfortable; his presence in your tiny house finally giving you a sense of belonging so you always agree without a second thought. Though the embarrassment you felt the first time he showed up at your minuscule apartment was astronomical even though you shouldn't have. You were scared he was going to judge you based on your living conditions or worse, pity you but he did none of that and simply made himself at home.
However, today, he has asked you to come over to his place, saying that he had his chef come over to help him with the food. You agree immediately as the thoughts of spending the rest of the day with him make you brim with excitement. You put on the nicest clothes you have and do a little makeup, a habit you've picked up ever since you've been with him; wanting to look your very best around him. You sling the Chanel bag he has gifted you over your shoulder and just as you are about to put on your shoes, your doorbell rings, perplexing you.
It's noon. You're not expecting anyone.
With a frown, you open the door and immediately, discomfort and annoyance settle into your bones as you meet your eyes with the visitor.
It's your sister.
With a rather bitter expression, you stand there, not welcoming her in or speaking but that doesn't faze her. With an exaggerated grin, she pushes past you. "Hey, sis."
Her tone makes you think she's mocking you and you huff, closing the door and turning around as you watch her scan your space with a rather judgemental stare. "What do you want, Melissa?" Your tone is snappy but you don't care. She feigns hurt, plopping down on your little sofa as she flips her hair over her shoulder.
"Can't I pay my little sister a friendly visit?"
"The same sister that you tried to get rid of? The one you didn't bother calling the past six months? Yeah, you can't." You hiss, your gaze burning into her. "Leave. I've somewhere to be."
Her eyes scan you up and down before settling on your Chanel bag. "Wow, nice bag. Where did you get that?" She asks with a smirk on her face. You sigh. "It's a knock-off."
She hums, probably not buying your words but you don't care. She has no business poking her nose into your life.
"What do you want?" You ask again, exasperated. Your day is ruined. You were so looking forward to seeing Joshua and now she shows up unannounced.
"Mom called. She needs money and I don't have it. Why don't you help her?" Your sister announces, nonchalantly, scrutinizing her fingernails. You immediately see red and your blood boils at her attitude. "Oh yeah? Well, I stopped caring since she walked out on us." You hiss. Your sister huffs in annoyance. "I don't care whether you care or not. Just give her some damn money."
"You really have no remorse." You chuckle mirthlessly, shaking your head in disbelief. "You and I both know you've more money than me yet to come to me, asking for it when I'm barely getting by. Not to mention how you tried to get rid of me— got rid of me, I should say, and now you're here, shamelessly asking me for money. How despicable."
Your sister glares at you as she abruptly stands up, seething, "You ungrateful bitch! At least I took care of you until you were eighteen!"
"Took care of me?" You scoff. "Sure, yeah. Since I'm an ungrateful bitch, I'll continue being that by not giving you or my goddamn mother any penny because I don't have any and you fucking know it!"
"Well, you definitely have enough to buy a fucking Chanel!" She hisses, "Don't think I'm stupid, _____."
"You know what, maybe I have enough to buy this or maybe I stole it. It's none of your business either way." You grit your teeth. "But I don't have enough to spend a penny for mom, especially when I know she'll waste it away drinking and gambling!"
She scoffs. "You really are still a selfish little bitch."
"Fuck you, Melissa. Get out of my house. I don't want to see you ever again."
She rolls her eyes, cursing you under her breath as she pushes past you and slams the door loudly on her way. Angry, hot tears that you've been holding until now start streaming down your face as your knees give up and you sink onto the floor, trying to keep more tears from falling.
No matter what you do, where you go your past just doesn't seem to let you go. You idly wonder if you would ever be able to get rid of it, forget its constant looming presence over your shoulders, holding you back from fully living your life.
A text seems to have been sent as your phone alerts you and blinking through the tears you check it. It's Joshua, asking if you are still coming or if you have changed your mind. You shake your head, smiling humourlessly at the text before you get up and try to collect yourself, wiping at your face so that you don't look like you've been crying like a madwoman.
Maybe having some good wine and delicious food in the company of a delicious man will help you get your mind off things.
-
"Hey there." Joshua smiles sweetly as he opens the door to his penthouse and moves aside, letting you in. He's dressed in a black fitted tee and grey slacks, a simple, slightly unnatural look on him as you have only seen him in suits until now. But he doesn't look any less gorgeous.
Your mind blanks out for a second as you stare at his chest, bulky and solid, a clear outline visible over his tee and you wonder how it'd feel to touch. Murmuring a shy greeting, you step into his foyer, large and shiny and absolutely breathtaking.
"Come in. I've prepared some snacks for us before dinner."
Joshua moves towards his kitchen while you look around the place, mesmerized. The main foyer of his house bathes in sunlight, courtesy of the floor to ceiling windows. Attached to the foyer is his modern, state of the art kitchen and dining area, all in various shades of white and grey. The area is spacious and bright, decorated with elegant pieces of furniture and fluffy rugs and gold framed abstract paintings.
"You have a pretty house." You murmur, not finding much else to say. His laughter can be heard. "Thanks. Would you like something to drink?" He turns around and offers you as you start taking off your jacket and set it next to your purse.
"Water please." You mumble, taking a seat by the dining table. He comes back with two glasses of water before serving some fancy looking appetizer, made by him and announces that you're having an early dinner as it cooks in the oven.
He sits opposite to you and talks animatedly, no doubt that he genuinely enjoys your company. It's not that you don't enjoy his, in fact, you love it, hearing his sweet yet slightly throaty voice and looking at that pretty face makes you forget about everything horrible in your life. He talks about the story behind this place, about how he actively participated in its making and you can clearly see he adores his house. You've also picked up his love for cleaning and maintaining his space; a rare sight for the male population you've encountered so far, especially someone like him.
The way he gracefully moves around the kitchen while conversing with you, you can tell he's a pro in this department too. Is there anything this man can't do?
Dusk falls as you both chat away, talking about everything and nothing and you don't even realize it's been hours. Your dinner has finished cooking and he starts setting up the plates as you pour some wine for the two of you. It doesn't escape you that he has not asked anything remotely personal about you when you expected him to. Is he being polite? Or is he not interested?
Your thoughts are interrupted as he brings dinner to the table and serves you, a sweet smile on his face as he waits for you to try his food.
"This is delicious." You try not to moan as you chew your first bite. His eyes crinkle in happiness as his melodic laugh rings in your ears. "Thank you. My chef helped too."
You hum, happily stuffing your face with food. You don't know if it's the delicious food; a huge change from your regular, cheap, ramen or toast, or his company that has increased your appetite. You genuinely enjoy his company, probably more than you should have and half of you don't want to return to your storeroom of a home tonight.
You need to get yourself together.
"_____?" He calls for you, jolting you out of your train of thoughts as you blink at him. "Is there something that's bothering you?"
"Huh?" You're fairly perplexed.
He shakes his head. "No, it's just that... You looked troubled earlier when you arrived. And you seem to be getting lost in your head, that's all."
Oh, he's quite the observer.
"I'm sorry," you murmur, eyes cast on your plate.
"No!" He quickly speaks, making you jump slightly. "No...you don't have to be sorry. I just wanted you to know that you can share your worries with me. If you feel comfortable, that is."
His gentle voice and soft gaze crumble down your defenses as you stare at the beautiful man and try not to start crying. You can't believe he actually noticed all that.
"Family issues. My mom...my sister." You find yourself uttering the words without much thinking. It's alarming how much he brings your guard down.
He doesn't say anything or ask for an explanation but watches you, his gaze reassuring and soft. You sigh, trying to get your thoughts together and just letting it all out. "Well, uh...my mom...she left me and my sister when I was... twelve I think. She found drinking and snorting cocaine more interesting than her daughters, I guess. But she always wasn't like this. Yes, she had a history of addiction but it improved after she married dad. Things were good until my dad passed away. She returned to her old habits after that."
You swallow, trying not to choke up on your words. Joshua watches you carefully his hand stroking your knuckles as it rests on the table. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." He whispers.
You don't yet you do. You've been keeping it bottled up inside you for so long that you don't want to stop now, even though you'll probably regret it later.
"Anyway, she went her way and left me with my sister." You continue. "It's safe to say she didn't like me. I was the unplanned child, of course, so she was more negligent with me. Anyhow, my sister wasn't exactly fond of me either and I guess she isn't fully to be blamed because she was barely an adult herself. We stayed with our aunt for a while before she turned eighteen. Then she had to take care of me and she wasn't quite happy with it. We fought a lot. She'd neglect me, make me do everything in the house while she brought her friends over and stuffs. When I confronted her about it things would get ugly. I made it through before I turned eighteen and then I left her. Thanks to the money my father left us individually, I got through somehow. And my sister got married last year." You take a sip of your wine, before continuing.
"Her husband is pretty well off. They even have a house. Yet today, she came to me for money. Apparently, mother called her and asked for some cash and she wants me to give her money when I'm barely getting by. I told her to fuck off." You sigh, downing your drink in one go. Your head hurts now. Whenever you think of those shitty people, you are bound to have a headache.
Joshua is silent, watching you with an expression you're unable to decipher and you start getting nervous. Did you scare him off? Does he find you burdening?
Anxiety almost chokes you up but his voice is kind when he says, "I'm really sorry you had to go through that. You don't deserve it."
His words are basic but they manage to tug at the deepest spots in your heart. You half expected him to offer you money like those obnoxious rich assholes but he sounds genuinely sorry and kind.
"Thank you for saying that." You mutter.
"Thank you for telling me." He says, his eyes meeting yours and the depth of his gaze brings goosebumps on your skin. You swallow, not breaking eye contact with him.
He looks even more beautiful now. Ethereal, like an angel. Gentle and calming and comforting. All the good things that pull you in like quicksand but also dangerous enough to scar you forever.
"Let's watch a movie, hmm?" He suddenly offers. You blink. "I...uhm, would love to. But I should get going."
"You can stay. I'd like it if you did," he says, his eyes watching you carefully. "If you're okay with it of course."
"Really? I can?" You're surprised.
"Why not. Don't take it otherwise. We won't have to do anything. You can take one of the many spare bedrooms I have." He smiles. You gape at him, weighing your options and you definitely don't want to return home tonight. So you whisper, "Okay, I'll stay."
"Great." He grins, standing up. "Let's choose a movie now."
About ten minutes later you sit next to him on the sofa, eyes trained on the romcom playing on the screen. There's a certain amount of gap between the two of you but he's close enough to have you distracted with his smell and warmth. You were never the cuddler type but right now you just want to wrap yourself around him and fall asleep. Maybe you will. Your tipsy mind won't really think twice to do it.
Joshua's hand is stretched out over the backrest of the sofa, occasionally brushing against you're back, unintentionally, you assume. His eyes are trained on the screen. He doesn't seem to notice your lack of focus on the movie or if he does, he doesn't comment on it.
The proximity between the two of you is dangerous, inviting. You distract yourself by playing with the blanket thrown over your legs but ultimately your thoughts land on the enticing man beside you. The room is now chillier than before as the night has fallen and you are thankful for the blanket Joshua had offered you. As you pull it under your chin and try to snuggle it, Joshua turns his head towards you. "We could cuddle...if you want."
You're embarrassed to admit how quickly you agree to it. With an enthusiastic nod, you immediately shuffle closer to him and tentatively rest your head on his shoulder, throwing the blanket over the two of you as his outstretched hand comes to wrap around your shoulder. You sigh, content and comfortable and he seems so too as he relaxes on the sofa.
There are no words exchanged but the atmosphere is cozy as you both watch the TV in silence before your eyelids start feeling heavy.
And soon you drift off in the comfort of his arms.
-
When you wake up you're in a bed. If you had to guess, it would be Joshua's guest room.
Sunlight pours through the large windows draped in silk curtains and you groan, stretching your hands and legs. The bed and the sheets and pillows are the comfiest things you've ever slept on which is probably why you feel so well-rested and at peace; a highly unusual occurrence for you.
After you freshen up, you step out of your room and climb down the stairs in search of Joshua. You find him standing by the dining table, finishing his coffee, a tablet in one of his hands.
As soon as he hears you he looks up and smiles, his eyes crinkling. "Good morning."
"Good morning," you murmur, voice a bit hoarse from sleep.
"I was about to wake you up," Joshua says, setting down the tablet. "I've to leave now. It's sudden but my father's friend suddenly called me this morning and asked me to play golf with him. Can't really say no to him." He shakes his head, clearly not fond of the idea.
"I'm so sorry. You're probably late because of me." You apologize, embarrassed. You've overstayed your welcome.
"No! Not at all." He assures. "In fact, if you want you can stay here today too. Though you'll probably need a change of clothes." His eyes move over your clothing, which you've been wearing since you've come here. "We could have dinner together tonight again. Or, if you'd like to leave, I'll drop you off on my way."
"I think I should leave. I've work to get done at home." You speak and he nods. "Sure but have some breakfast before we leave."
About an hour later Joshua parks his car in front of your building; his Porsche a weird contradiction in this poor, worn-out neighborhood. Unbuckling your seatbelt you smile. "Thank you for the ride."
"My pleasure. Oh and _____?" He calls as you're opening the door. "I've to attend an event tomorrow. A charity event. I'd like you to come with me."
"Sure." You don't have any plans and being with him is easily better than sitting around and moping in your tiny apartment.
"Great." He smiles. "My driver will pick you up at five."
As you exit his car and head into your building, you can't believe how excited you are and how much you're already looking forward to tomorrow. It's been a long long time since you've been this energized and happy and you realize just how much being with Joshua is shaking up your entire world.
-
Draped in a beautiful silk scarlet red dress and with Joshua's strong grip on your waist, you feel like a million bucks. The dress you're wearing today is exceptionally pretty, your favorite one from all that you've worn so far. It is one-sleeved with a sweetheart neckline, flowing down into a long slit that reaches up to your thigh. It's elegant yet playful and dangerous, not quite your type but Joshua seems to like it as you don't miss his eyes raking appreciatively down your leg now and then.
You've to admit it makes you feel excited. For whatever this night has in store.
Which doesn't seem much at first as you walk into the party with Joshua and feel the eyes of many cast at the two of you, mainly you. Men greet Joshua as soon as they see him and the ladies accompanying them scan you too to the bottom, with heavy judgment, maybe a little jealousy in their eyes but you can't bring yourself to care too much.
This is fleeting, after all.
The event comes to an end for the two of you as you finish dinner and as soon as you're done Joshua is escorting you out of the premises and towards his car. You can tell that he got bored with all the mindless chattering and you can't blame him for that. You weren't exactly enjoying yourself either.
As you sit by his side in the limo, Joshua's hands absentmindedly graze the skin of your leg peeking out from the slit. You've noticed he
has been touching you throughout the evening. His eyes are focused outside the window as he speaks. "Have I told you how lovely you look?" His voice is quiet, full of something you can't quite put your finger on as he turns his head to look at you. Not trusting yourself to speak you only shake your head and swallow, the look in his eyes hypnotizing.
Joshua's eyes move to your lips as his thumb reaches out to swipe across the flesh, sending shivers down your spine. He inches his face closer and keeping his eyes on your lips, he whispers, "I want to kiss you, _____. Tell me, do you want it too?" His eyes lock with yours and the flame of passion burning in them makes you weak in the knees.
"Yes," you squeak. There's an unmistakable spark of desire in his eyes as his lips curve upward just a little bit and he presses the button for the privacy screen of the car.
Then he wastes no time, immediately smashing his lips to yours as one of his hands cup your jawline and the other your waist. The kiss is intoxicating, his warmth and taste overflowing your systems as you become a puppet and let him guide you through it.
When he pulls back, he inhales sharply and the fire in his eyes grows ten times stronger. "We should stop. Before this gets too far."
It's like a bucket of ice-cold water has been splashed on you as you stiffen, your heart breaking.
Too far? What does he mean by that?
You can't help the bite in your voice, "Do you not find me attractive?"
Damn it. A part of you hates yourself for saying that. Your past insecurities have no room in this relationship.
A look of utter confusion settles on his face. "What?"
"No...it's just, we've been doing this for a while and you've never initiated anything with me. Am I not attractive to you?"
The glint in his eyes is dangerous and you can visibly see his jaw harden. "You've no idea what you are talking about, _____. I did not initiate anything with you because I didn't want to scare you off. I can tell you are inexperienced so I didn't want to make you do something that you're not comfortable with."
He can tell? Heat blares in your face, both from embarrassment and arousal. The look he's giving you right now makes you feel like he's gonna eat you whole and you're not going to stop him. Joshua continues, "But clearly, you misunderstood my cautiousness as disinterest so I've no choice but to prove you wrong." His hands snake around your waist as he utters, "Tell me to stop if you mean it. Otherwise, there's no stopping tonight."
That's it. That's all the warning you get before Joshua moves you onto his lap and kisses you, hard. You are sure your lips are going to be bruised and you don't give a shit. You keep clawing at his biceps and whine as he devours your face, not caring that you are in the back of a limo.
Your needs have reached their breaking point. You're going all in tonight. Whatever regret you have can wait until tomorrow because there is no way you are letting yourself off of this man tonight.
Joshua seems to be on the boat with the idea as even after a nasty make out session in the back of his car he doesn't keep his hands off your body as you both stumble into the elevator and then into his penthouse.
Joshua drags you towards his bedroom, your form gasping for air and stumbling over your heels but you've never felt this alive and excited. He doesn't hide his need for you and it brings a type of feeling to you that you've never felt before.
Powerful. Wanted. Sexy.
Your brain seems to have taken a backseat as you're no longer in control of your body, gladly doing whatever Joshua is making you do. He pushes you onto his bed and kisses you once more before standing back up and loosening the bow tie on his neck. Tossing it away he then starts unbuttoning his shirt, your eyes following each of his steps wantonly.
Once the material is off you can finally see his buffed chest in its full glory and your throat dries up immediately. He's so big and bulky, he could literally crush you with his chest. It's probably worrisome how much that idea seems to appeal to you.
"Up." His voice is husky and you blink, realizing he's telling you to stand up. With shaky legs, you do so and he turns you around to tug down the zipper at the back of your dress. "Take this off," he orders quietly and your hands start moving as you push the one shoulder of the dress down before tugging it lower and lower, down your waist as it finally pools at your feet.
Clad only in your black lacy panties, you can feel his hard stare, penetrating deep into you. While you want to cover yourself, the look of lust mixed with appreciation makes you stay still. Swallowing, you wait for his next words.
"Lie down."
Immediately you do so and watch him crawl over your like a predator. He starts by kissing your lips chastely before moving towards your jawline and then down the column of your neck, nipping and sucking every inch of skin. You gasp and mewl, hands automatically reaching to hold onto his back as you writhe underneath him.
His lips hover over your chest, his warm breath tickling your sensitive skin as he starts by kissing the flesh between your tits. Then he takes a nipple into his mouth and teases it, softly sucking at first before poking the hard bud with his tongue.
His hands stay rooted on your sides, on the bedsheets and the only form of his touch you get is his tongue. It drives you wild; the need to feel every inch of him on you.
"J-Joshua..." You moan.
"Daddy. You call me daddy in bed." It's a command and you immediately nod your head, all too eager to comply.
The man you've known until now is completely gone, no more the sweet, considerate man but instead a lust-crazed man. You never thought you'd be into this but damn if you aren't and you only become more sure when Joshua's crotch brushes against your leaking sex, making you shudder. "Daddy...your fingers please." You mewl, trying to give him your best puppy eyes. Your subconscious shakes her head at how easily the title falls off your lips.
Joshua chuckles quietly, meanly, giving you goosebumps as he keeps torturing your breasts like before. But this time he brings one of his hands down to your core and starts rubbing you gently. Your back arches off the bed slightly as you sigh in pleasure, his touch soothing the burn in your core.
"You want my fingers, baby?" His voice is deep as he removes his mouth from your tits and locks his eyes with you. Surprising you, he slaps your pussy, hard, making your mouth open in a silent scream. "You have it." He hisses and in one smooth motion, thrusts two of his fingers inside you. You squeal, hands fisting the bedsheets tightly as his digits easily slip in due to your overflowing arousal.
"Oh god, yes." You moan, eyes rolling back as you feel his thick fingers move inside you. Paired with the movement of his fingers and the heated look he's sending your way, you know you're not very far from your release. You squeak, "Go-gonna cum."
Joshua scoffs. "So quickly? Horny little baby. Come then. Come on my fingers so I can put my cock in you." His filthy words make you moan out loud as he brings his thumb over clit, rubbing it swiftly and sending you over the edge, face-first into your first, proper orgasm.
It shakes your body as you lie there and feel it wash over you, your pussy spasming repeatedly as he keeps playing with your pussy throughout your high. When you finally come down and your mind starts working again, Joshua pulls his fingers out of you, dripping in your essence and licks his digits clean, never wavering eye contact with you. The erotic sight has your core thrumming once more in the blink of an eye as you mindlessly reach for his pants. "Please. Want you..." Your voice is soft, breathy and Joshua finds it hard to not give into you.
So dropping a kiss on the top of your pussy, he shuffles off the bed and stands up, hands working on removing his belt. Anticipation builds into your veins as you lick your dry lips, eagerly waiting to see him.
And you almost stop breathing when he removes his pants and boxers. His size and girth leave your mouth hanging open and your core clenching around nothing. The phrase hung like a horse was probably invented for him because just thinking about that inside you makes your pussy ache.
You probably won't be able to walk tomorrow.
"Fuck. W-will you even fit?" Your eyes never leave his cock as it bobs in the air, his tip leaking precum. Joshua watches you watch him with utter amusement. "I will, baby. Your tight pussy was made for me." He flashes you a cocky grin as he climbs back on top of you and pecks your mouth.
"Then take me, Joshua. I...I can't wait. N-need you. Take me like this. Wanna feel y-you." You whisper, chasing his lips as you pull his large body against yours and his cock brushes against your pussy.
"Fuck." He curses under his breath as he feels your heat against his sensitive flesh. "Are you sure you are ready for this, sweets? Should I make you come once more?"
His concern brings warmth to your chest but you immediately shake his head and start grinding against his dick. "Wanna come on your cock, daddy."
You've been craving this man for a long time and you will go crazy if you wait any longer.
"Fuck. Such a slut for my cock, aren't you?" He tilts your chin up and pulls your lips in a bruising kiss as you nod. "P-please give it to me."
He groans softly as he taps your clit with his hard shaft, eyes trained on your swollen, dripping hole. "Tell me if it hurts, okay sweets?"
"I will."
His eyes darken as he suddenly lands a slap on your clit. "What's my name?"
"Daddy! Daddy, oh my god!" You squeal, wetness dripping out of you and just as you are recovering from the shock of his spank he thrusts inside you, all the way in one smooth motion. You scream so loud your ears ring, your nails scratching Joshua's back as you cling onto him like he's your lifeline.
He pants harshly on top of you, sweat shining on his forehead as he fights to stay still and let you adjust. Your pussy is stretched to its limits and even though you still feel the sting, you mindlessly grind on his cock, breathy whines leaving your lips.
"Stop doing that or I'm gonna come," Joshua warns but you start moving your hips faster when you're more comfortable with the stretch. "Little vixen," he groans as if in pain, heated eyes watching you. "Come for me." He commands quietly, hands moving to play with your swollen clit as soon as he flicks it with his finger, your release coming crashing down on you and you feel it in every one of your nerves.
Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream as you feel him release inside you, making you clench. You're not surprised when he doesn't stop but continues thrusting inside you, far from being done with you and you feel another orgasm impending. Your pussy hurts in the best ways possible and just thinking about coming once again have your toes curling.
Surprising you, one of his hands move onto your neck, gripping it firmly and applying just enough pressure to make your body curl up and see stars. It triggers your orgasm, multiplying it by hundreds and seeing the godlike man on top of you, reaching his high, his dark, predatory eyes trained on you makes you go off like a rocket. You swear you see God himself as your body completely lets go and you feel like you're floating in a place of pure bliss. The feeling of him releasing inside you makes you shudder, before he slips out and shuffles on the bed, probably cleaning you up but you're too gone to care.
With a blissful smile and a hazy mind, you let sleep take you.
-
Blinding sunlight wakes you up the next morning as you immediately sit up once your brain has processed everything.
You slept with Joshua Hong last night.
Holy shit.
You feel tingles shoot up your leg just by thinking of him and the things you did last night. Nervous and shy, your eyes move around his large bedroom. The time on the wall clock and the looming quietness in the apartment is enough for you to think he has probably left for work. Which is good. You're too embarrassed to face him.
As you get out of bed, awkwardly you must admit due to the ache between your legs, you spot a note lying on the bedside table. Your curious hands reach for it and you smile once you read it.
Good morning. I'm sorry I had to leave early. Help yourself with breakfast before you go. Also, check your bank account. XO
Right. The money. You scan around to find your phone and once you do, you quickly log into your bank app and sure enough, a nice, huge amount of cash sits there, enough to pop your eyes out of its sockets.
Holy fucking shit.
As relieved and giddy you feel seeing the amount, there's a part— one that you hate, of you that feels ashamed, conflicted. Before you start thinking too much you toss your phone away and head toward the bathroom.
You need to stop thinking so much.
-
You were positively kidding yourself when you told yourself to stop thinking too much yesterday morning. Now, a day later, in the evening, you sit by yourself in your shoebox apartment, anxiously chewing on your lower lip.
You spent the day just fine, busy doing your work and not thinking about him or anything regarding him. But now that the night has fallen and you sit idle, your mind can't spot conjuring up the worst scenarios.
You haven't heard from Joshua. At all.
Which has you disappointed. And you are disappointed in yourself for feeling disappointed.
The silence on his part makes you worry to your wit's end. Is it over? Has he gotten tired of you? Did you not satisfy him? Did he forget about you like everyone else?
Your fists clench as your heart breaks a little at the thought. No, no. You don't do attachments. He could just call you right now and say he's done and it shouldn't hurt you. Not one bit. This is just business, you keep telling yourself.
A loud, echoing sound breaks the train of your thoughts and you frown. It's the doorbell. And you are expecting no one.
Especially not Joshua Hong, who you find standing just as you pull open the door. A sound, somewhere between a pleasant gasp and a surprised squeak escapes you as you watch the man in front of you with wide eyes.
"Hey." He gives you a soft, if not a little shy smile. Your heart starts fluttering and you wish you could rip it out of your chest.
"Hi," your voice is barely audible as you drink him in like you've been thirsty for eons; his large form dressed in a wrinkled black shirt underneath a grey blazer matching his pants. As you look closely, you see exhaustion written all over his face, dark circles under his eyes.
"May I come in?" His voice makes you snap back into reality as you flush.
"Sure," you choke, moving away to let him step in.
You watch as Joshua makes himself comfortable on your tiny couch, the furniture squeaking under his weight. As always he seems unbothered by it as he looks at you expectantly, motioning for you to sit on the small remaining space next to him.
As you do so you realize there's a box from a confectioner on his lap and you frown. "For you," he seems to notice your gaze as he pushes the box onto your lap. "I was passing by the area when I saw the shop. I remembered you wanting to try their desserts so I thought I'd get some for you."
Your stomach somersaults at his confession.
He remembered. He remembered the day on the way to one of his events, you had passed by this shop and the beautiful pastries on display made you say that you'd love to try some. You were not serious and you definitely did not expect him to actually buy those for you.
Tentatively you open the box and the assortment of desserts inside makes your mouth water. You swallow. "Wow... I— thanks, Joshua."
"You're welcome, _____. Consider it as an apology too. I should've checked up on you after yesterday. Work has just been so hectic these days, I barely have time to eat." The sincerity in his voice makes you want to scream. Why? Why does he care so much? Why can't he just be an asshole? Why does he have to show up at your place, being all sweet and considerate?
"It's okay, Joshua." Is what you whisper instead.
"Are you okay, though?" The need in his voice makes you look at him. Your heart stutters as your eyes come in contact. "You could've called me, you know. I kind of hoped you would."
Oh.
You bite your lip. "I... thought I'd be disturbing."
"No, not at all." He frowns, reaching to cup your hands. "You should not hesitate to call me. Even if I can't call you, you can always call me, _____. I mean it."
"Okay." You quickly retract your hands from his as your heart rings loudly in your ears. Being so close to him, touching him, breathing him in is messing with your head. You clear your throat, trying to get up. "Would you like a pastry? Let me make some coffee-"
"Sit down." He grabs your elbow and pulls you down effortlessly, right into his strong arms. Eyes wide, your hand reaches for his solid chest out of reflex and the look in his eyes is enough to drop your panties.
Your throat is parched and your heart is a galloping horse, ready to burst out of your chest as you fist his shirt in your hand. Your eyes land on his lips and you swallow, the urge to kiss them overwhelming and scary.
You want him. You need him. It's utterly terrifying how much you do.
"Tell me you missed me." His voice is quiet, his eyes trained on your lips intently. The timbre of his voice and his tightening grip on your waist make it very, very hard for you to form words.
"Y-yes. I- I did."
He hums, pleased you assume and then leans down to kiss your lips. Softly at first before he's pushing his tongue inside your mouth, a loud whine escaping from your mouth. You twist and writhe in his arms, the taste and feel of him electrifying. Just when you are at the peak of your high, he pulls back, a soft, teasing look on his face.
God. This infuriating, sexy as fuck man.
"As much as I'd love to continue this, I have an early morning tomorrow. And my driver is waiting." He murmurs, pressing soft kisses on your neck which does not help your current state at all. You almost, almost beg him to stay and fuck you but you hold back the words sitting on the tip of your tongue. Instead, you only hum and sigh into his chest, subconsciously snuggling against his large frame.
The security and comfort you feel in his arms is something you've never felt before and something you long desperately.
In silence, Joshua holds you; for how long you have no idea but enough to make you feel drowsy. Maybe he senses it because he lets you go, dropping a kiss on your forehead as he gently moves to stand up. "By the way, are you free this Thursday night?"
"Hmm? Yeah, I am." It takes a moment for you to register his words as you can only concentrate on the missing warmth of his body.
"Great. My friends are having a hangout. You'll be my plus one." He smiles, buttoning up his blazer and surprising you, he leans down and kisses the corner of your lips. "You don't have to see me out. Good night, sweets. Dream of me."
Before you can recover yourself from his sweet, boyfriend-like gesture, he's out the door like a spring breeze. The pounding of your heart seems to echo around your empty apartment as you sit in silence and touch the spot where his lips were moments ago.
This man is doing dangerous things to you, things you don't want to acknowledge. Because you know exactly what it is.
Love.
-
Yoon Jeonghan is quite the character.
He's the loudest, most teasing, quite literally the brat of Joshua's friend group but you can't say you dislike him.
It's quite the opposite in reality. He has made an impression on you ever since you arrived with Joshua, as he whisked you away from your date and started spewing all types of info about him.
"Gosh, drunk Joshua is the worst. " The man shakes his head as if recalling a certain memory. "The only thing he does is sing Sunday morning and he just doesn't fucking stop. Your ears will literally bleed off."
You can't help but giggle, thinking fondly about drunk Joshua whom you've never seen but wish to. Jeonghan raises his glass of whiskey to yours and clinks them before taking a sip and leaning over the bar counter. "Oh! You won't believe it. Aside from going around advertising himself as the gentleman, one time in college— "
"I think you've said enough, Jeonghan." Joshua emerges from behind you and you soon feel his presence on your back. The man in question throws a lazy smirk at his friend, "Ah, come on. I've so much yet to say. I need to get back at you. You weren't exactly merciful when you told my girl about all the shit I did in college."
You realize they are talking about Jeonghan's girlfriend, now fiance who once used to be his sugar baby. Joshua had shared with you all the juicy details.
"Was just giving her a heads up," Joshua shrugs nonchalantly, one of his hands coming to rest on your shoulder. "And I really wish she was here tonight so you'd leave my girl alone."
My girl.
His girl.
The words make heat spread through your entire body as your brain stops functioning for a second. You almost don't register Jeonghan's wink as he saunters away when his phone starts ringing, saying, "Oh come on, couldn't just leave a pretty girl alone. Oh, hey darling. How is it...."
Too preoccupied with your thoughts you don't realize Joshua is calling for you until he gently shakes your shoulders. "Oh— um, you were saying?"
He watches you with cautious eyes, "I hope Jeonghan didn't bother you too much."
You shake your head. "Oh, no. Not at all. He's a fun guy. Where's his fiance by the way?"
"Went to visit a sick relative with her brother. Jeonghan is gonna drop by there after this."
"Oh, wow. That's sweet."
"Mhmm." He hums distractedly. You feel his eyes rake down your body hungrily and you can't help the giddiness and confidence it blossoms within you. You definitely don't regret the tight evening dress you wore solely for the purpose of teasing him. You can't keep being the only one in this relationship who losses their mind when the other is anywhere near.
"Did I tell you how fucking gorgeous you look tonight?" He asks, shuffling closer to you, too close as large his body presses hotly against yours. You can't help a teasing smile. "Hmm, you may have earlier in the car. Jeonghan also complimented my looks."
On the way here Joshua had been a tease, his hands stroking your naked thighs, hovering dangerously close to your core but never quite touching. He didn't even try to hide how much it satisfied him to see you squirm and you can't complain too much either.
"Stop being a brat," Joshua's voice is deep, ringing with a clear warning but it's too fun not to work up a man so calm and put together like him. So you smirk and stroke the lapels of his blue blazer, batting your eyelashes at him, "What do you mean? I'm just telling the truth."
A deep sound, similar to a growl resonates from his chest as he grabs your waist and pulls you closer. His warm breath hovers over your ear as he trails teasing kisses from there to your jawline. "Don't be a tease if you want to come tonight." He whispers in your ears as your breaths come out as heavy pants. Pulling back like he didn't just promise you a dirty thing he states, "Now come along. We need to be with the crowd or I'll lose my mind and take you home right now."
-
The tension radiating off of Joshua's body is so thick you can taste it on your tongue. It's so much fun, teasing him when he can do nothing about it and you feel so powerful, so pleased. Every time he clenches his jaw and grabs your hand even tighter you have to stop yourself from bursting into giggles in front of the whole table.
Dinner had started a while ago as everyone sat around the large rectangular table, eating and chattering loudly. After you've had a couple or so bites of your steak you had decided to initiate playing with another meat as your hands started traveling to Joshua's thighs, innocent at first. He didn't pay much heed to it, busy conversing with his friends. When you were sure he wouldn't remove your hand, you went bolder, cupping his dick through his pants and rubbing him all over.
The look he sent your way should have been recorded in history books and you really wish you could take a picture. His glare, paired with his gritting teeth made you laugh a little, earning a few looks from other people but you brushed it off. Maybe it was because of the wine or Joshua's generally overwhelming presence but you felt giggly and bold, so you decided not to waste this perfect, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see Joshua Hong lose his shit.
"Your ass is going to pay for this." He threatens quietly but you can't quite take it seriously as you are busy observing the growing bulge in his pants. To know that you have this effect on him makes you feel something unlike ever before. So you just bite your lip and give him a wink, fingers stroking his large thigh.
As soon as dinner was over and Joshua had adjusted his pants, he was dragging you out with him, hastily throwing goodbyes to his friends. Jeonghan gave you two a knowing look before winking cheekily at you making you laugh as Joshua pushes you towards his Audi.
As soon as your ass hits the passenger's seat, Joshua is starting the car, driving off at an alarming speed.
"You made me consider drinking and calling my driver to pick us up," he mutters, eyes trained on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. You give him an innocent look, face forming a faux look of concern, "Hmm, you should have. You look so tense, daddy."
His response is a grunt and he grips the wheel tighter; if that's even possible. "Start thinking of a safeword. You're going to need it tonight."
That gets your attention.
"S-safeword?" You breathe. "Yes darling, a safeword." He casts a quick, cocky glance at you and your stomach somersaults.
What has he planned for you? The anticipation and thrill explode in your veins like fireworks as you anxiously tap your foot, wishing you could just transport yourselves back to his place with some machine.
Joshua focuses on getting you two home for the rest of the drive, which he accomplishes, in record time. It's a surprise you weren't pulled over. Before you can even blink he has turned the car off and is dragging you towards the elevator.
Once you are in, he pushes you against the wall and smothers his lips to yours, wasting no time. The ferocity in his movements elicits a moan from you as your hands claw his large back. Feeling those tense muscles underneath his blazer makes you let out a whine of need, though it is muffled with his tongue in your mouth.
The ding of the elevator lets you know you're here and once again, he's making you move in the blink of an eye. Your brain is too fuzzy to keep up with his hasty movements but you have no complaints about being manhandled by Joshua. You kind of wish he'd carry you around like a sack of potatoes.
Damn, what has gotten into you?
Joshua steps into his apartment before you and heads for the kitchen but not before barking an order at you. "Go to the bedroom and strip. I want you only in your panties by the time I'm back."
Your core clenches deliciously at his command. Before your brain is fully processing his command your feet carry you towards his bedroom, where you start peeling your dress off as quickly as possible. Once it's off and you are only in your red lacy panties you scurry towards the bed and sit, your feet dangling from the side, waiting anxiously.
After what felt like ages, which was probably a couple of minutes, the man returns, sauntering into the room with a glass of whiskey in his hand and a small bucket of ice in the other. The dark look in his eyes shoots shivers down your spine and makes your nipples harden.
God, you'd let him do just about anything to you.
"Have you picked out a safeword?" His eyes gaze into you so deeply you're scared you'll end up in flames. You've to swallow to find your voice. "Y-yes. Gentleman."
You have decided to use that word to tease Joshua after Jeonghan told you about how he used to claim to be one back when they were in college.
Joshua snorts, chuckling dryly as he sets down the ice and whiskey on the bedside table. "Always a brat, I see. Well, use it whenever you feel uncomfortable and want me to stop. Are we clear?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes... daddy."
He gives you a salacious smirk and you swear it's enough to make you come. "Good girl. Get on the bed now. On all fours."
On fours? Holy shit.
You blink, taking a moment to process his command before shuffling to the position he wants you to be in.
"Good." He hums and you feel him coming to stand behind you. Then, you feel his movements and the clink of metal makes you realize he's taking off his belt.
"I'm going to spank you with this, do you hear me?" You feel the long piece of leather dangle next to you and your throat dries up.
Holy fucking baby Jesus.
You know he's expecting a response so you choke out one. "Yes, d-daddy."
"What do you do when you feel uncomfortable?"
"U-use my safeword. G-gentleman."
"Hmm, looks like my dumb girl can do more than tease her daddy." He hums, his knuckles stroking your ass cheek, giving you goosebumps. You've to fight to hold yourself up, just the faintest of his touch making your knees and elbows weak.
"We'll go with ten spanks."
Oh fuck. Oh fuck.
"Okay, daddy."
The anticipation is mind-boggling, breath talkingly crazy. You hold your breath and wait for the first strike which comes as a sudden smack, jostling you forward as you let out a moan.
You did not expect to like it so much.
"Okay?" Joshua's voice is quiet, patient and you nod your head vigorously, eager for more, "Yes, yes. M-more, please." You hear him make an amused sound and you would give anything to see his expression right now.
Just as you are getting lost in your thoughts, he delivers the next strike, wringing an equally needy moan from you. Then he delivers three more spanks in quick succession, all on your left cheek as you feel the skin heat up.
"Fuck!" You're out of breath when he lands the sixth strike on your right cheek. "Do you need a moment?" He asks, placing a gentle hand on your lower back. You shake your head, "N-no, please, continue."
The way you are dripping right now is absolutely mortifying and you are more desperate for his dick inside you than your next breath.
Fuck, how can getting your ass whipped turn you on so much?
He smacks your ass three more times repeatedly, as tears blur your vision, then strokes your burning flesh softly, "Such a good girl. One last time." His voice is hushed as you hold your breath, anticipating the end of your torture which comes stronger than ever. The last smack he lands on your ass makes your elbows give up as you whimper and mewl into the sheets.
Immediately you hear Joshua drop the belt before he gently turns you to face him gathering your body in his lap. Your ass feels like it's on fire as it comes in contact with his pants, making you whimper.
"Fuck, such a good little girl. You're so perfect." He praises you quietly, removing the hairs from your face as he rubs your shoulders comfortingly. Your heart gallops in your chest as you watch him look at you with adoration and pride and at that moment you realize you'd do anything to make this man proud.
"Should we take a break? Would like to get something to eat or drink?" He asks, eyes searching yours for discomfort.
Yes, your cock.
You shake your head. "N-no, please. Just fuck me."
That earns you a laugh from him as he shakes his head amusedly, his eyes crinkling in that beautiful manner that messes with your head. "So impatient." He presses a kiss on your temple before gently settling you on the bed and retrieving the belt from the floor. "Scoot up, sweets. Put your head on the pillow."
You swallow, eyeing the belt with wide eyes but do as he asks nonetheless, moving carefully not to scrap your ass too hard against the sheets. Once you are in position he crawls up towards you and then sits on his knees as he ties your hands to the headboard using his belt.
A shiver runs down your spine as you conjure up all the things he might do to you.
"Tell me if it gets uncomfortable, hmm?" He says as he gets up from the bed and picks up the glass of whiskey and takes a sip, heated eyes trained on your vulnerable form. Slowly his gaze travels from your eyes to your lips and then to your breasts before moving even lower. Once he has finished eye fucking you, he moves back into the bed and places himself right over your waist, his thighs around your smaller frame.
With the evilest of all smiles, he leans down to kiss your puckered nipple and then pours the cool whiskey right onto the sensitive bud making you squeal.
"Oh my god!"
You writhe, feeling the liquid drip down your breasts but before it can travel too far Joshua is lapping it all up, his heated tongue moving all over your cold flesh.
You're teetering on the verge of insanity.
"O-oh fuck! Daddy!" You scream. The pleasure is mind-numbing and you aren't even sure if you want him to stop or ask for more. You feel him grin against your skin as he pours more whiskey on your other breast and then continues the same torture on them. You keep howling and writhing helplessly beneath him, your core throbbing with utter need, words of pleas escaping your lips like a mantra.
Once he is satisfied and has left your skin feeling sticky, he takes one of the leftover ice cubes into his mouth and giving you a look of warning he presses it against your nipple.
"Shit!" You scream, legs thrashing around as your back arches from the bed. Your already hardened nipple feels achy and sore now as he teases your areola with the ice between his teeth before pressing it directly on the center of your nipple. As the ice comes in contact with your heated skin it starts to melt and drip down your breasts, making you shiver.
"J-Joshua, please."
"Hmm, not my name now, is it?" He hums, letting the now small, melting piece of ice drip down your chest as he reaches for a new one from the bucket. Taking it between his teeth once again, he gives you a cheeky smirk before pressing it against your other nipple, torturing you until it melts down completely and tears from your eyes trail down your temples.
"Daddy! Fuck! P-please—" as he lets the second cube melt into your skin, he encloses his lips around your over-sensitive nipple and gives it a hard suck, making your brain go haywire.
"Please! No more! P-please, just fuck me..." You whimper, your vision is blurred with tears, frustration getting to you. The urge to be filled with his cock, to reach your sweet release is stronger than ever.
"Sweet girl, begging so nicely," he hums and kisses you softly on the cheek, the action a complete one-eighty to his earlier one. "You need me here baby?" With your eyes shut, you feel the pads of his fingers brush against your clit and you moan loudly, "Yes! Yes, please! Please let me cum."
You hear a noncommittal hum, as if he's still considering it and you have the urge to scream. "Did you learn your lesson, sweets?" He asks and you have to blink as you process his words.
What is he talking about?
Your disorientated look amuses him. He pushes one of his fingers inside you and while his thumb strokes your clit he moves his face towards your dripping core, "Will you tease daddy again?" He asks, his voice low, eyes sparkling.
"No!" You immediately yell. "No! I'm so s-sorry, daddy. P-please, just let me come." Your hips chase his touch needily as you feel your orgasm approaching. Joshua seems to take mercy on you as he starts moving his finger inside you, his thumb stroking your clit harder while his tongue greedily laps up all your arousal. And that's all it takes for you to reach your release and drown in it.
Your scream rings in your ears as your toes curl and your whole body shudders, riding the most intense orgasm you've had yet. Tears burn your eyes and your throat hurts from all the screaming but you don't care, your mind lost in a place of pure lust.
"Good girl. Coming so nicely for me." He whispers, his voice slightly hoarse, his lips wet, eyes trained on your core hungrily.
As you start to come down from your release, Joshua moves off the bed, not before kissing your shoulder sweetly and shoving his fingers into your mouth to lick them clean. Then he stands at the foot of the bed for a moment, watching your helpless form with dark hunger in his eyes.
Ever so slowly, he starts peeling his navy blue blazer from his large shoulders, fully revealing the minty blue turtleneck underneath it. The material hugs his bulky form perfectly, especially around his chest and you mentally take a note to appreciate that part of him sometime later, when you are not tied up and desperate for dick.
"I can see how much you want me," his deep voice pulls you out of your thoughts. "You aren't even trying to hide it, dirty girl. You're dripping all over the bed." He observes, eyes trained between your legs as he peels off the turtleneck and bares his glorious body to your hungry eyes.
If you were dripping before, now you are flooding the bed. The sight of his broad, muscular chest and the sheer dominance radiating from his presence makes you whimper pathetically. And he isn't even fully naked yet.
"P-please, daddy. Please, f-fuck me." You beg.
"I will, sweets. I will." And that's a promise.
He unbuttons his pants and swiftly tugs them down with his boxers, finally revealing the star of the show. His cock is so hard it looks painful and you can see precum oozing out from the tip.
Subconsciously you lick your dry lips. Will he fuck your mouth now? Should you beg for it?
"I know what you are thinking, dirty girl," he muses as he crawls on top of you. "But not today," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss at the top of your pussy and stroking two fingers on your folds to collect your wetness. Keeping his eyes on you, he pops them into his mouth and sucks his fingers, obscene sounds echoing in the room that makes you writhe helplessly.
"P-please..."
Giving you a look of reassurance and promise he shifts so that his cock is positioned right in front of your opening. Tapping your sensitive core with the head of his member, he grunts and then slides inside, in a full thrust.
"Fuck!" You almost come at the overwhelming fullness. "Shit," he groans, eyes shutting down. "So fucking tight, sweets."
Joshua wastes no time, increasing his pace as he starts to rock the bed, his unbelievably thick length going in and out of you nonstop. Your mouth remains open, voice gone from all the screaming, only sobs and whimpers escaping you as you feel his thrusts in every nerve of your body. You know you're not far from coming.
"You are squeezing me so bad, baby. I should fuck you open with a dildo next time." He says and the sheer filthiness in his words makes your eyes roll back into your head as your toes curl at the mental image.
Before you can warn him, you are coming.
"Fuck, fuck!" You hear him hiss through the ringing in your ears as your whole body shakes in the impact of your orgasm. It's a miracle you haven't blacked out yet.
"Shit, holy shit." He groans, his moan drawing out as he feels your walls clenching around him repeatedly. "I'm coming too, fuck." He grunts, his pace faltering and through the mind-blowing haze of your orgasm, you manage to see his face, godlike and lost in the throes of pleasure; something that will be ingrained in your mind for years to come.
As you twitch and shake beneath him, you feel him release inside you, making you moan out loud at the warm feeling. His large body shudders on top of you, your hands holding onto his back tightly as he fills you up. Still not done with you, Joshua's hand moves into your clit and he wastes no time rubbing the swollen bud making you shriek so loud you think your voice will break.
"Joshua! Please! I can't— "
"One last time, sweets. One last time," he whispers and as if your body is on autopilot, a slave to his command, another wave of pleasure rushes through you that makes black spots appear in your vision. You feel hazy and achy all over but oh so sated and drowsy, feeling like you are floating on a bunch of clouds.
The next moments are blurry, you can barely sense some shifting around you, and the feel of a soft warm hand on your body as you are pulled into a deep, dark slumber.
-
"So...you are saying that he's not only ungodly handsome, unbelievably polite but also a freak in bed?" Kira whisper yells, clutching your shoulders and violently shaking you as she squeals. You cringe and look around the fairly empty grocery shop aisles and pray that no one heard her. "Keep it down, will you?" You grit your teeth, scowling at her but she doesn't listen. She keeps on giggling to herself while giving you a dirty look, making you regret spilling the beans to her.
You don't know why you did that. It has been a day since that magical night with Joshua and though your whipped ass now hurts significantly less, you couldn't forget about the act, the filthiness of it, the pleasure you got from it, the way you crave it again.
Confused and horny, you decided to spit it all out as soon as you two met today.
"Stop looking at me like that," you hiss, trying to ignore the dirty stare she's giving you and busying yourself with searching for the items you need.
"I gotta tell Naomi." She grins as she quickly fetches her phone out of her purse. "No!" You hiss, reaching for her phone, mortified, regretting waking up this morning but she dodges your hands and skips away as she quickly starts typing. There's a little struggle between the two of you but when you get your hands on the device the damage is already done.
Kira: ______ GOT HER ASS SPANKED BY HER DADDY!!!! SHE LOVED IT!!!
Naomi: AAAAAAA! WTFFFFF!!! I WANT DETAILS. HANG OUT AT MY PLACE NOW!
Groaning, you hand her the device back. "I didn't say I loved it."
"Oh but I could see it in your face!" She keeps grinning like a stupid idiot. "You had this longing, fond tone in your voice. You're literally glowing. You look like you're in love!"
Her words bring your entire world to a halt. The hand that was reaching for the milk carton stills midway as you become solid like a statue and let your friend's words wash over you.
No, no it can't be true.
"Holy shit, _____ I didn't— " Kira's voice is breathy. "You— you really are..."
"No!" You snap, head whipping towards her. "No! Of course not!" The words feel impotent and pathetic even to your ears but you stay adamant. "No, I'm not. It's not like that."
Kira stays silent, giving you a sad, almost pitiful look and you half expect her to start talking but she doesn't and for once, you are glad she shuts up.
The thought that you may have fallen in love with Joshua scares you to your bones. You cannot bring yourself to even think of it, much less acknowledge it. You just can't.
If life has taught you one thing, it is that love is a fickle thing and for some people, like yourself, it does more damage than good.
-
That weekend Joshua sends his car to drop you off at his place to get ready as he announces that he's taking you out for the evening.
You are a little surprised when you first receive his text and you're even more shocked when you go to his penthouse and find out a dress has already been picked for you, with shoes and all other accessories.
"Wow..." You're a little dazed with all the arrangement and wondering what is the occasion. Joshua gives you a sheepish smile when he sees your dazzled look.
"Where are we going?" You ask.
"You'll see. I'll leave you to get ready." He answers, dropping a quick kiss on your cheek and heading out the door. You gaze at the beautiful red garment with slight hesitation. Joshua has been weird the last few days; his texts seemed a little off and now that you've seen him in person, he looks a little jittery and nervous and he didn't answer your question. It makes you wonder if everything is okay.
Maybe it's a problem at the company? But that doesn't really explain his behavior. If it was regarding his business, he would have been serious and collected, not like this.
Despite the uneasy feeling in your gut, you start getting ready. A while later, when you are done with your makeup and putting on your earrings, there's a knock at the door, before Joshua steps into the room.
Oh wow.
He's dressed simple yet expensive; in an off-white suit over a loose white tee, a Dior chain dangling around his neck. His hair is half brushed back and a half left to cover his forehead and there is this ethereal glow on his face that makes your heart skip a few beats.
You've to bitterly remind yourself not to fall for him. Even more, that is.
"Hey." He gives you a soft smile and you almost melt into a puddle on the floor.
"Hi," your voice is breathy.
"You look... absolutely gorgeous." He takes determined steps towards you, eyes going over your form before coming to stop at your face. "So fucking beautiful." He whispers, his thumb reaching out to brush against your cheek and your heart quite literally leaps out of your chest. The subtle scent of his cologne doesn't help either. He smells fresh and inviting and all the good things in the world. You are scared for a second that you might pass out.
"Thanks." You whisper, shyly averting your eyes from him and trying to get your racing heart under control.
With one hand Joshua tilts your face up and before you can blink, he kisses you, gently pressing his lips against yours. Your heart beats so loudly you're scared he can hear it and the urge to just give up all your barriers and break down in front of him and tell him everything in your heart is too much for you to bear.
So before you do that, you take a small step back that puts distance between your lips. Joshua looks at you, confused as his brows knit together.
"I...I'm sorry if I made— " He starts.
"No! I just...my lipstick is gonna get messy," you're quick to interject him, voice jittery. He gazes at you for a brief second before laughing softly, "Oh yeah, right. Sorry. Well then, come out when you're finished. The car's waiting."
He gives you his infamous sweet smile before turning on his heel and walking out of the room. You don't realize you were holding a breath until he's gone and you feel air rush back into your lungs as you collapse onto the stool in front of the mirror.
After you've finished dressing up, Joshua guided you to the car, his arm casually slinging to yours. A quiet, somewhat tense car ride later, you find yourself in front of what can be the most beautiful place you've ever seen. It's a grandiloquent fine dining restaurant and just by looking at the beautiful, antique European architecture of the building, the gilded marbled pillars and crystal chandeliers, your breath is stolen away.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Joshua asks, a smirk on his face.
You can only nod, as you gape at the marvelous place in wonder and let Joshua lead you through. You look completely out of place; while everyone else looks calm and habituated, talking and eating, you keep turning your head in various directions, eyes wide open and small gasps leaving you every now and then.
But you're yet to be surprised as a finely dressed man leads you both to a pair of double doors which open to reveal the huge balcony, in the middle of which sits a candle-lit table with two chairs.
Suddenly, all your breath wheezes out of your lungs and you turn into stone. This feels too intimate. Way too intimate for a sugar daddy and his sugar baby. Your throat dries up.
"Let's sit," Joshua ushers you towards the table as he helps you sit down. You've turned stoic, your heart pounding against your ribcage as you start getting an idea of where this is going.
While a part of you really, really likes it, the larger part, the part of you that always puts up walls to protect yourself goes into fight mode.
You can't trust yourself enough for this. You can't trust the universe enough for this. This all feels like a cruel game, a game in which you are bound to lose.
"Do you like it?" Joshua asks softly.
"Yeah. It's beautiful." Your tone is rather poignant. "I've to say this was not what I was expecting."
Joshua frowns. "What were you expecting?"
"I don't know. Maybe just another business event or something." You shrug, your hand motioning around vaguely. Joshua is silent for a bit, watching you with careful eyes.
"Why does it feel like you don't like this?"
His voice is just a breath above a whisper and you almost think you weren't meant to hear it. The hurt is clear in his voice and it absolutely wrecks you, making you want to scream out loud how much you love it all. How much you love this.
How much you love him.
You feel nauseous. The fears and traumas buried deep within you surface all at once and you have this urge to run away from everything forever.
"I—" whatever you wanted to say dies in your throat as you meet Joshua's expectant, slightly pained eyes. Your lips press into a thin line as you remain silent. A waiter arrives with a bottle of wine, breaking the moment between the two of you. He asks if you are ready to order and you shake your head, pretending to busy yourself with the menu and Joshua dismisses him.
Your eyes scan over the words but your brain processes none of it, too busy overthinking this situation. You are tired, burdened and oh how much you want to cave in, finally give up, retract your weapons and let him do whatever he wants to with you but you're scared to death.
A courageous person would do that. They would fight for the person they love, struggle to acquire anything good life threw their way. But you are not that person.
All your life you've been hiding, running and burying things that scared you. That's the only way you know how to survive. So you make your mind up.
"Joshua," you utter his name, closing the menu and sitting up straighter to meet his eyes. "I can't do this."
The man is in the middle of pouring you wine when he stills, his eyes fleeting over to you, confused at first, then worried. He sets down the wine bottle and murmurs, "What do you mean?"
"I can't do this. I- can't...This is too much," you breathe, hating how your emotions choke you up. Joshua looks like a puppy that has been kicked. His eyes search for yours anxiously. "You don't like this place?" The softness in his voice tugs at your heartstrings and you feel yourself getting more annoyed.
"No!" You snap. "It's not about the place. It's about this. What we're doing. I... can't. I can't do this, please..." You're fighting to keep your tears at bay. The pain and helplessness in Joshua's eyes are unmistakable. "If you want we can just go home..." He's still clinging onto that stupid hope, ignoring the real meaning behind your words even though he knows it well.
God, why did it have to be this man who fell for you? And why do keep feeling the same for him?
You can't see him in any more distress or you're going to end up running into his arms, soothing away all his pain. So you inhale deeply and stand up. "Joshua. I can't give you more. I'm sorry but this is too much for me. I know what you are expecting. And I can't give you that. I'm sorry. This relationship has no place for love."
He stands up with you too and watches you with wide, panicked eyes. "Let's talk about it, _____. You don't have to give me anything you don't want to." His voice is feather-light and it once again almost breaks your resolve.
"No," you shake your head. "I can't stay with you. This...you— you overwhelm me. This...what we're doing right now, I can't do this. This is too much for me." You swallow and blink away the tears that are on the verge of falling.
Joshua watches you in silence for a while and as you reach for your purse, you hear him whisper. "I'm sorry, ______. Please."
And the dam breaks.
"No!" You are yelling now. "Don't apologize! Please! This is not your fault! It's mine. I can't do this Joshua. I can't give you what you want. I am not the person you need me to be. I— I can't...I'm sorry, Joshua."
"But you already are. You are what I need."
All the air leaves your lungs. The feelings you've been experiencing so far increase tenfold. He speaks the words that you never, ever thought someone would say to you in this lifetime and now you're at your wit's end. His admission makes this all so much real.
This has to end.
"No, I'm not! Please leave me alone!" You yell, hiccuping midway as you scramble to sling your bag over your shoulder and without even sparing a glance at him, you run out of the terrace.
Even though Joshua calls for you from behind you tune his voice out and keep taking determined steps until you're out and far away from the restaurant.
It's better this way when you can still walk away from him. When you are not madly, deeply in love with him. Who are you kidding? That man made his way into your heart the very first time you saw him.
It's ripping you apart, leaving him, but it's not as painful as when he eventually abandons you. They all leave. There is no happy ending. Not for you. Not in this life.
You're doing this for yourself. You're doing this for yourself. You keep chanting in your head as you walk out of the restaurant, feet briskly moving against the pavement as you step further away from that lavish place.
Fetching your phone out as means of distraction, you find messages from Naomi and Kira, wishing you well on your date and whatnot. You scoff, shaking your head humourlessly as you try not to break into tears. Instead, you type out a message in the group chat.
Can I come over? Let's meet at Kira's place.
You shut your phone off as soon as they start sending concerned messages. You can't talk right now. You need to gather your shit together and just breathe for a few moments.
You've probably done the stupidest thing on this planet and broke an innocent man's heart so you need to have a few moments to yourself. You walk aimlessly around the city, the cold air making you shiver a little but you welcome it as it is a good distraction.
When you arrive at a random park, you find yourself a bench and sit down to watch the dark sky and the soft twinkle of the stars. And it seems like there's no escape for you as you are suddenly overwhelmed with a certain memory regarding Joshua.
It was at beginning of your relationship when you had just started to stay over at his place during the weekends. One night after dinner, he requested you to sit with him on his balcony as he offered you a glass of wine.
High above the ground, closer to the sky, you sat with him in utter silence except for a soft melody playing in the background from a speaker. None of you said a word but the moment was nowhere near awkward but purely magical. You had spent hours simply stargazing which was odd to do in the bustling city. For some reason, on that magical night, the sky was filled with more stars than you had ever seen in your life.
Joshua kept refilling your glasses and exchanged soft, coquettish smiles, sometimes sweet touches with you that sent your heart in a frenzy. It was a night of silence, peace and magic and now that the moment is a far memory, you realize something.
That was probably the time you really fell in love with Joshua.
The realization brings tears to your eyes as you watch the sky now, alone and broken-hearted and like a cruel game of fate, the sky is full of stars today, too.
Whatever was left of your heart breaks even more as you try to wipe the tears and keep that at bay.
This moment right now is painful and absolutely heart wrenching but this is also a moment of clarity for you, you realize. You're a coward for running from the only good thing in your life but somehow, now you're strong enough to cut off a part of you, the cancerous part that you've been dragging for far too long.
So you quickly call the person from your caller list and wait for them to pick up.
"Finally changed your mind?" Is the first thing your sister says.
You clench your fists and bite your tongue to stop yourself from lashing out. "I'm calling to let you know that I won't receive your call ever again. I don't want anything to do with you. Or mom. I'm done."
"What?" She shrieks. "Listen, who do you think you are— "
"Aren't you tired too?" You whisper, finally breaking. "How long will this go on? It's been like this since dad died. We're a family. We're supposed to protect each other, love each other. But we're killing each other here and I'm tired. Let's just stop, Melissa."
There's silence on the other end of the line.
You continue. "I let mom go when she left us and refused to be helped. She's a lost cause and we know it. You can't keep sending her money. Well, if you want to, then do but I won't. I'm tired, Melissa."
"So you are dumping her on me?" She accuses.
"No, I'm not." You sigh, rubbing your forehead. "I'm telling you what I'm going to do. I'm telling you that you can do whatever you want to. Send her money, keep in touch with her or don't, I don't care. I won't accept your calls from now on and I hope you won't call too, Melissa."
"Fuck you, _____."
A lone teardrop pours down your cheek. "You were not the best sister but I understand you a little now. You were young and you had your own life. Still, you didn't kick me out when mom left. Thank you for that. And I'm sorry. If we meet again, let it be under better circumstances."
"Listen here, you fuck—"
"Goodbye, Melissa."
As you stare at the dark screen of your mobile, you feel like a huge burden has been lifted from your shoulders. You feel lighter and it feels easier to breathe. So you do.
You just breathe.
You inhale a lungful of air, despite it being chilly and try to put everything past you. Getting up from the bench you walk back towards the main road where you hail a cab to take you to Kira's place.
-
It has never been this quiet with the three of you. Whenever you all gathered it would be pure chaos but the scenery today is something you never expected to face.
Kira and Naomi sit on both of your sides, their face solemn as they stare at the wine glasses in their hands, much like what you are doing.
You came here and told them everything, crying your eyes out as you relieved the entire evening once again. They listened and even they got teary eyed which prolonged another crying session.
Now you sit on the sofa, drinking wine to knock yourself out but somehow that seems like a burden too. Now that you have no more tears left to cry there's a chilling hollow settling into your bones and you feel like a shell, an empty person, completely vacant inside.
"Why do I feel like I'm the one who broke up a 10 year old relationship or something?" Kira whispers, staring ahead blankly.
There's a pregnant pause in the air.
Her words sit heavy on your heart.
Naomi, who has been totally silent until now, shares her two cents. "______...what if...what if you read way too much into this? What if he just took you out on a simple dinner? What if he doesn't, you know...want you like that?"
A dry chuckle escapes your lips. "Naomi," you sigh. "You should have seen the look in his eyes. He— he looked at me with so much hope, like I'm his entire world or something." You shake your head, trying to rid the image of his sparkling eyes from your brain. They will haunt you even on your deathbed.
You set the glass down with a rather loud clank. "I mean— I knew something was up...he was being so weird the past few days. But I— I just couldn't imagine that he'd actually do something like this..." You rub your temples.
"What the fuck is wrong with that man?" Now you're yelling like a madwoman. "That guy could have anyone he wants but he chooses me! A good-for-nothing, weird and bitchy and broke college student! That's suspicious, right? He really can't really love me, can he?"
Your friends give you judgemental, you've completely lost your mind looks. "First of all," Kira starts in her no-nonsense tone, which is rare. "You are not good for nothing, weird or bitchy. Broke? Yes. But who the fuck cares? We're all broke. If anything, _____, you're a person full of dreams and ambitions and love. We have received so much love from you, even though you didn't get that from your family. I know you don't let many get close to you but the few of us who have been blessed with your presence know and feel and see what a truly great person you are."
Your friend's words close up your throat and suddenly, you feel like you've swallowed a sock. You hate this. You hate when they praise you like this and hate how much you want to believe them, how much you crave these words.
"Seriously," Naomi says. "You've never denied any of our requests. You've been there for us, for me, always. Even when I couldn't finish my history report, you came to my place in the middle of the night just to be my moral support. You give and give and give, ______ even though you have never received enough, you give, unknowingly."
"Guys..." Fresh tears start accumulating in your eyes. "You're my friends, I'm supposed to do all that." You mumble.
"No, you're not. You could've been a bitch of a friend and used us to get what you needed. And you literally forgave your sister for all her bullshit. " Kira rolls her eyes. "Give yourself a little credit, ______. You had a tough life but you've still managed to become this amazing person and you've been giving selflessly for us."
"No wonder Joshua would fall for you." Naomi playfully pokes your temple. "You're incredibly dense but you're a lovely person and an even lovelier company. You definitely made Joshua feel something that he didn't feel before to make him fall for you."
A lone tear trails down your cheek as you fiddle with your fingers.
Kira downs her glass in one go and shuffles next to you. "Now that we are being honest and spilling whatever the fuck is in our hearts, lemme say something else. You're a pussy. You're a pussy for leaving that man, a simp of a man like that."
You narrow your eyes at your friend's words and from beside you, Naomi snorts. "Yeah, I agree with that."
You turn to glare at her. So they are ganging up on you now?
"Seriously. Joshua is like a guy straight out of a romance novel or some shit. And I'm not talking about his billionaire extravaganza or whatever. I'm talking about his personality. Yes, I've never met him but he sounds so pure and gentle— "
"Except when he's in bed, of course," Kira interrupts with a giggle which tells you she's pretty drunk.
Before Naomi can continue her monologue, you stand up and hold your hands up in surrender. "Okay! Okay! I know what a great guy he is, alright? You don't have to kiss his ass like this. Besides, whose team are you on?"
"Team Joshua, sorry," Kira replies in an instant, leaning back into the sofa and giving you a cocky smile.
"Me too." Naomi gives you a sheepish smile.
"You two are traitors, you know?" You hiss at them.
"We're the speakers of the harsh truths. And I will say one more thing." Kira holds her hand up as if asking permission. "You should try."
"Try what?"
"To win him back."
You stare at her, incredulous, utterly baffled and if she had told you to run over an old lady or something, you'd be less surprised.
"You're drunk, Kira." You sigh.
"She's completely right." Naomi is quick to defend. "Who knows, _____? Maybe you still have a chance. Maybe this decision will change your life forever. Yes, there's nothing set in stone but I think you've tortured yourself enough. And this one time, just this once, you should chase after something. I mean, it is fucking clear you two love each other. Why are you putting the two of you through so much pain?"
You swallow. It seems like there's no ground beneath you, you're free falling and falling into a deep dark abyss where her words echo around and feel like a cold bucket of water on your skin.
"I don't know. I'm scared." Your cracks as you realize how much you want to see Joshua, just once more. You want to tell him how sorry you are and how much you love him, how he has become your hope and your entire world in such a short time.
You really are a pussy.
"Oh, babe." Kira quickly comes to wrap her arms around you, followed by Naomi. "It's okay. It's perfectly normal. But it shouldn't stop you."
"Let me call you a cab," Naomi is already moving away and rushing for the door.
"Wait- are you crazy? I didn't even— " you're hushed as Kira puts a finger on your lips. "Shut up. Get in the car and go to him. Talk to him. If he doesn't give you another chance, my name isn't Kira and I vow to pay for your rent for the rest of our lives."
You can't help but snort. "Be prepared."
She rolls her eyes. "But. If he does take you back, which he will, you shall attend my wedding wearing a tiger costume."
Before you can protest, Naomi rushes back in. "Hey! The cab's here."
"Go get him, tiger!"
As you are heading for the car, you hear Hoshi, Kira's boyfriend, emerge from his room in which he had been cooped up until now, giving the three of you privacy. "Hey, babe! Who are you calling tiger other than me?"
"Oh shut up and take me to bed, tiger."
You shake your head, a smile on your lips as you feel a little hope bloom in your chest.
Maybe you still have a chance.
-
This is stupid. So unbelievable stupid and embarrassing. No one in their right mind would do this.
As you stand in front of Joshua's front door tipsy, tired and slightly shivering from the cold, you realize how badly this could go.
But since you've come this far, you might as well just go with it because the cab fare was definitely not cheap.
Your finger which has been hovering over the calling bell button with a gap of millimeters finally presses it and you go completely rigid, waiting for Joshua to either open the door or at least receive your call on the intercom.
Looks like he has decided you don't deserve to put your foot in his place no more because there's a beep alerting you that he has received the call and is currently watching you through the screen.
You realize you've never been this nervous in your life as you stare at the intercom camera, wide eyed with an embarrassed, awkward smile plastered on your face.
Shit. Get yourself together before he decides to end the call.
"H-hi," your voice is so pathetic to your own ears that you want to punch the wall and howl. "It's me...as you can see..."
Your subconscious facepalms and starts to bury herself into an imaginary ground. You wish you could do the same.
"I'm sorry, I— " You exhale a deep breath. You don't even know what you are trying to say. Rubbing your hands on your arms to provide some warmth, you take several deep breaths.
You can do this. You've got this one chance. You can't fuck this up.
This time, determined, you focus your eyes back on the camera. "As you can see, I'm really bad at this and talking to a camera feels even weird. So I'm just gonna sit down here and talk. Please just listen to me, that's all I ask of you."
You make yourself comfortable on the ground as you lean against the wall just by the door to his penthouse. As soon as your ass hits the floor, you shiver due to its coldness.
You'll probably die of pneumonia but it'll be so worth it.
Inhaling a lungful of air, you start. "I'm s-sorry. I'm sorry about a lot of things, Joshua, especially about tonight. I did the most horrible, despicable, atrocious thing ever and I probably broke your heart but you have to know I didn't mean it and I didn't want to do it."
You let out a breath, blinking repeatedly to stop the tears from falling.
"I'm so, so stupid, Joshua. And I'm such a coward. You're the best thing that has happened to me in this hell of a life and I've always pushed you away. But I never wanted to do it. I never wanted to let you go. I wanted to be close to you. I longed for you more and more every day and that sacred me. I'm s-so s-scared, Joshua." Somewhere along the line, your voice cracks and a quiet sob ripples out of your throat. Clearing your voice, you start again.
"You know, I've always been left behind. The people that were supposed to love me, didn't and that made me realize that if they didn't love me, how could someone else do that? I know this sounds like bullshit but I've always been scared of this. I hated the thought of being abandoned or seen as a burden or a charity. And I kept making things worse in my head even though the reality was far from it."
"The time I spent with you was magical, Joshua. Every moment of it. Even though I didn't deserve any of it, you gave me so much and made me feel so appreciated. I can't thank you enough for that. And I can't apologize enough for what I've done to you today. But still, I'm here and I'll say I'm sorry. I'll say it a million times not to make you forgive me but to show you that I mean it." You breathe in deeply.
There has been utter silence and you would think he left but there has been no sound from the device to let you know he hung up.
Once again, gathering all your courage, you speak. "I know you'll probably never want to see my face again but just know that..." You stop as you have to speak the three words that have been on the tip of your tongue for ages now. The words that you've always wanted to tell him yet you didn't. Well, now's your chance.
"I love you, Joshua. I love you so fucking much I only wish I could explain. I love you more than anything in the entire world. And I'm sorry for not see saying this earlier, when the moment was right, when you were in front of me. But I need you to know, Joshua. I love you."
It takes you a while to realize that you're crying but you're surprised to understand that the tears are not from any pain but from the huge relief you feel, how your heart feels lighter and how free and liberated you feel.
So you let the tears fall, crying your heart out because you are leaving your old self here, right at this moment. No matter what happens from now on, however Joshua treats you, you will remember this feeling and you will hold it dearest in your heart.
As you are in the middle of your crying session, you hear something akin to a door opening, somewhere far off so you don't open your eyes to check. But then you hear footsteps and some movement beside and as you open your eyes and look up, you see him.
Joshua's blank stare is the first thing that greets you as he keeps eyeing you with a straight face, no emotion whatsoever. Quickly you wipe away your tears in an attempt to look less pathetic— not that it helps and prepare yourself to be kicked to the curb.
Instead, he surprises you by holding out his hand. With wide eyes and like a deer stuck in headlights, you gape at him and then his hand, before you realize he's offering it to help you stand up. With a shaky hand, you reach for it and Joshua pulls you up from the cold ground and right into his warm chest.
The moment is something straight out of a movie as the force of his tug sends you crashing into his strong chest. For a moment, you hesitate but when you see he makes no attempt to push you away, you bury your face into his soft sweater. His arms wrap around your back, rubbing it up and down as he comments on how cold you are.
However, you can't bring yourself to care for anything else. This moment right here is your heaven and even though the thought that this may be the last time you get to feel his body next to you splits your heart open, you don't let it distract you. Instead, you inhale deeply into his chest and let his clean scent wash over you, ingraining it into the deepest part of your brain as you let your body go lax for a moment.
For the first time since being with him, you drop all your guards and simply let your bodies mold into one, uncaring of everything else and just feeling him, baring yourself to him. The only thing you hate is that it took you this long.
As you are having your moment, Joshua suddenly grabs below your ass and then as if you are a child, carries you inside his house, cradling your body next to his despite your protests.
"You need to warm up." He states, voice devoid of emotion as he drops you onto the living room sofa and heads towards the bedroom. From there, he returns with a fluffy white blanket and drapes it around your shoulders.
You can only look at him in wonder as he does so. When you expect him to sit down next to you, or maybe say something, he disappears into the kitchen, leaving your dumbfounded state alone.
What is he doing? Why is he ignoring everything you had spilled? Did he not hear it? Does he not care anymore? Or is this a nice way of kicking you out of his life forever?
Anxiously you chew on your lip, wrapping the blanket around you tighter. Joshua returns right then, holding a steaming mug in one hand which seems to be tea. His gesture tugs at your heartstrings and you have this urge to start crying once again.
"Drink." It's a command as he holds the mug in front of you. You oblige, reaching for the mug and taking a small, careful sip before cupping it with your arms to feel the warmth. Now that you are inside you realize just how cold you had been.
Joshua sits next to you and almost subconsciously, you scoot away a little, afraid to come in contact with him for some reason. If he notices, he says nothing but stares at you with an unreadable expression, one that you've never seen on him and it makes you worry.
What is he thinking?
Swallowing, you take another sip of the tea and then another hoping to hear something from him. But he stays silent and you realize your worst fear has come true. He's done with you. He is going to kick you out as soon as you are done drinking this tea.
So you try to save yourself from further embarrassment. Setting the mug on the coffee table, you shrug the blanket off your shoulders and start getting up. "Well then...I'll get go— "
You're immediately pulled back into the sofa by a strong arm. Joshua's eyes blaze with an emotion you've never seen before; fiery, accusatory, annoyed as he hisses. "What is wrong with you!"
His reaction confuses you. What does he mean?
"What?" You blink, perplexed. "I— I just thought that I should go home— "
"Will you stop overthinking for once? Did I ask you to leave?" This time you hear the hurt in his tone more than the anger and you immediately sew your lips shut. Joshua rakes a frustrated hand through his hair and exhales loudly. "God, _____...." He shakes his head, probably at a loss for words.
"I was gonna leave because you were not saying anything and I thought you didn't want me to stick around..." You mumble.
"God. I was letting you warm up and feel comfortable before I addressed the elephant in the room." He glares at you.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, a part of you feels giddy. You've never seen Joshua angry before so this is a sight. And something tells you, you shouldn't poke him right now and just be quiet. You whisper. "Sorry."
Joshua sighs, his shoulders visibly slugging and he looks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. You have this urge to reach out to him and smooth out the lines of worry on his face.
"You're so... stubborn, ______." He murmurs, more to himself than you. "God...the least you could have done was listen to me instead of ditching me like that."
You wince at the memory. That, undoubtedly, was the stupidest decision you ever made. You're about to, once again, apologize but Joshua starts talking.
"_______." His eyes lock with yours. "You're such an amazing person and it is my fault for not making you realize it and letting you think so little of yourself."
You're opening your mouth to interrupt but he holds up his finger and begrudgingly, you stop. How can he say that?
"But now that you're here, I'll say something I've always wanted to say. You're the best thing that could have happened to me and I wish I could show you how much I mean it. I sometimes honestly have a hard time grasping the fact that you are real and you are in my life, ______. I've found myself attracted to you from the first day we met at the restaurant. You're different, you're intriguing. You've shielded your heart from the world yet you have this lively innocence surrounding you and it drew me in. Whenever I looked at you— even thought of you, I felt at peace and I felt better. I didn't realize I was lonely until you came along, ______. You make the dullest things interesting. You make my world so fucking colorful. You bring life to me and the thought of you leaving kills me."
Oh god, oh god, oh god.
You're crying. It's impossible to not cry after hearing those words, paired with the look in his eyes, the raw emotions shining in them. You have to stifle your sobs to let him speak and not end up wailing once again.
Gosh, you never knew you have so many tears.
One of Joshua's hands reaches out to wipe a trail of tear from your cheek. "I want you and everything that comes with you. Every tear, every pain, every scar, every little thing you have, I want it. I need it. I need you just as you are, ______. And I would do anything to protect you. I really hope you will start believing that."
You can't help it anymore. You're flinging yourself into his arms, ugly crying, fat tears rolling down your face as you try to literally bury yourself in his chest. "Oh, Joshua."
"Shh. It's okay. Gosh, you're such a crybaby." The tenderness in his voice laced with emotions, his soft stroking on your hair— it all makes you turn into mush for this man and you swear to yourself as long as you have life in your body, you will never ever hurt this man again nor let anybody hurt him.
"I love you too, _____. You were silly to think I'd never want to see you again." He whispers into your hair. You're moving to look up at him but he holds you tightly, keeping you in his arms as he continues speaking. "My heart broke when you left, I'm not going to lie. But I was mad at myself. I couldn't make you comfortable enough to— "
"Joshua, no." Your tone is adamant as you push against his chest and scowl at him. "Please, please don't say that. What I did today evening was a horrible decision on my part. You had nothing to do with it. As always, I let my intrusive thoughts win but it won't be happening from now on." Your hands reach forward to cup his cheek. "I love you. I've always loved you and I always will."
"I love you too." He gives you the softest of smiles and fireworks go off in your heart. You want to scream, cry and yell at the top of your lungs but you only manage to grin from ear to ear. Joshua mirrors it before leaning towards you, eyes going over to your lips.
Your breath stutters.
Softly, oh so slowly, he attaches his lips to yours while cupping both of your cheeks. Your hands move to clutch his biceps as you completely melt against his mouth, the familiar feel and taste of him soothing away all the pain from the last couple of hours.
Wanting more, you shift and move on top of his thighs, kissing him deeply and urgently. He reciprocates and soon it's a battle of teeth and tongue. When you both pull apart for air, Joshua has this flushed glow on his face, his eyes shining with so much love and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. If there was a jetpack attached to your heart it would take off to space right now.
"I'm so lucky to have you." You say thoughtlessly. He laughs softly at that but you're completely serious. "I can't believe you forgave me after what I did. I was such an asshole."
"No, you weren't." He frowns before tapping your temple. "You just said no more intrusive thoughts. So stop that."
Right.
You manage a sheepish smile as he once again engulfs you into his huge chest. You snuggle into him, getting comfortable and letting your mind simply drift. He holds you in silence, occasionally kissing your hair while he rubs your back softly. You feel yourself drifting off, the absolute comfort and safety of his arms making you sleepy. Not to mention you've had the most eventful evening of your life.
Just then, he speaks. "You're so cute. Falling asleep on me, sweets. But there's something you're forgetting."
"Hmm?"
"I think you deserve a punishment for what you did this evening."
The seductive growl in his voice suddenly removes all the sleep from your system and you're wide awake and anticipating. Your surprised, slightly excited gaze makes him smirk.
"I thought we're now past that daddy and baby relationship." You faux pout but he sees through your act. His eyes narrow. "So you don't want a punishment?"
"Hmm." You pretend to think. "Does it involve spanking?"
The cocky grin on his face is panty melting.
"And much more." It's a promise that lightens up your whole body.
"Lead the way, daddy." You whisper in his ear, making sure he feels your breath. Joshua groans, pushing you onto your back on the sofa. "Such a brat till the end." He smashes his lips against yours, stroking your tongue with his as he holds your hands above your head together. "Let's do something about that, hmm? What's your safeword, sweets?"
"Gentleman."
1 year later
It's the same place. The historic one where you ditched Joshua almost a year ago and ran like Cinderella.
It's surreal how quickly a year has passed. You've got your degree and started your job as a junior editor at a rising publishing company, all with Joshua by your side. Joshua has also become good friends with Kira and Naomi, showing up with you on hangouts every now and then. They're absolute fans of him, giving him undivided attention and spilling every embarrassing secret about you.
Kira also got engaged to Hoshi last month and as a congratulatory gift, Joshua got them tickets to the Maldives. You wanted to reprimand him for such an expensive gift but Kira's childish giddiness made you let him off easy.
Overall, life has been good. You've worked on yourself and now you're more accepting of everything that has been given to you. You have learned to focus more on the positive and let go of the negatives.
After that eventful night, your sister did call you but you didn't pick up and then she sent you messages giving all types of threats. She also dropped by your apartment when you weren't there so that was fortunate.
Not long after, you changed your number and after many requests from Joshua, you moved in with him. Now you've grown so accustomed to living with him that you don't know how you survived before.
Being back here, in this beautiful restaurant is quite exciting for you as you plan on doing the things you missed out on last time, like drinking the wine and eating the fancy food. The last time you were here definitely didn't go well but you're adamant about enjoying this night and replacing the bad memories with the good.
Joshua, however, has been stressed since he got in the car. You were the one to mention revisiting this restaurant and though he didn't deny your request, he definitely looks like he has PTSD, you now understand.
"Hey. I'm not walking out on you again." You reach for his hand over the table. He looks dashing, his dark hair pushed back, dressed in a pristine white shirt and dark grey suit and you can't wait to get home and take it all off.
His smile is a little nervous. "Sure." He mocks and you laugh. "If it makes you feel any better, you can walk out on me tonight. Do give me a moment to take off my heels though because I'll be chasing you."
That earns you a gentle laugh from him and you immediately feel better. If you ever got your hands on a time machine, you'd visit yourself that night and smack that bitch until she came to her senses. That'd be quite a scene.
Soon the waiter arrives and takes your orders before leaving you two to yourself once again. You take pictures of the beautiful place and the equally gorgeous night sky, before asking Joshua to take some photos of you.
"Joshua?" You call for him, thrice. The man seems to be lost somewhere else as he burns holes into the table. "Huh?" He blinks as you snap your fingers.
You sigh. "Shua, what's wrong? Is this about last time? I swear— "
"No! No, damn it." He says, a little too forcefully, making you concerned. What's wrong with him? Should you be getting worried? Is he... breaking up with you?
"Joshua?" Your voice suddenly becomes shaky. "Did I do something wrong? I— "
"Fuck. I can't wait anymore. Let's get this over with." He suddenly hisses and stands up, coming to stand by your chair. With alarmed eyes, you watch him, his face extremely serious, eyes focused but also a little nervous.
What on earth is the matter?
The next second, he drops onto one knee and your heart flies out of your chest, quite literally. You gasp and cover your mouth with both hands as he produces a little black box from his pocket and holds it open, revealing a beautiful, glittering diamond ring.
You're too stunned to speak.
"______." He breathes, eyes focused on you, his voice just a little shaky. "I love you. I fell in love with you the first day I saw you and I fall in love with you more and more every day. You're the sun of my world, my light in the dark and there is no life for me without you. So please, will you do the honor of marrying me and loving me forever?"
By now, hot tears are rolling down your face, probably ruinning your makeup but you just can't stop. You hiccup, trying to give him an answer but you can't. So you just nod your head aggressively and hold out your hand.
He gives you a fond smile and you can see the tears in his eyes shine as he puts the ring on your finger.
A perfect fit. Just like him.
"You didn't exactly say yes, you know." He teases as he stands up. You roll your eyes, wiping away the tears and pulling him closer by the lapels and kissing him deeply.
"Yes, Joshua. It's always a yes."
A/N 2: More than any other fic, your reviews and thoughts will be especially appreciated for this one as I've had a hard time finishing it due to writer's block and in general lack of motivation. But after doing so, I'm really happy and satisfied with the outcome. These characters are really dear to my heart so it would mean the world to me if you all left a little message. As always, thank you.
Taglist: @coupsiekkuma @haomullet @haven-cove @woozarts @fairiewonu @qy61 @lilactangerine @wheeinz @melocular @soonchanshua @chvngbin @kp0p10v3r2 @mommymilkers6000 @silent-potato23-blog @luv4cheol @namjoonslefttiddie @joshualvr @yangjeongincertifiedsimp @vernongyu @jeongiegram @hnsw04 @tfmingyu @thisuseriscravingdeath (forgive me if I've forgotten to tag someone 🙏)
#seventeen smut#joshua smut#seventeen imagines#svt imagines#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#joshua fluff#seventeen angst#svt angst
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Hollow knight bugs & real world species
basically this is just a place for me to dump my thoughts about the species of Hollow knight characters. Let’s start with the easy ones.
Divine & Leg Eater: These two are very obviously a termite king and queen, Divine literally can’t be anything else.
Ogrim: The biggest shitter, dung beetle obvi.
Cornifer & Iselda: Weevils, aka the best bugs. Look at their proboscis’
Mantis lords: Mantids, probably based mostly on the Chinese Giant Mantis specifically.
Flukes: They’re just flukes, disgusting.
Unn: Objectively the best goddess, big slug
Quirrel: So it seems likely to me that Quirrel is a isopod of some sort, most likely an armidilidium species, I think it’s something about his hunched/slightly curled posture and body segmentation.
Radiance: A silkmoth, her wings look to be in proportion with the species and everything else screams silkmoth.
Grimm: it’s a common theory, but his resemblance to a vampire moth is striking.
Mask maker: Bro is very obviously a whip scorpion, the arms are what really seals the deal, but living among other predators with ease(ie deepnest) and twitchy motions are staples of whip scorpions irl.
Cloth: a Cicada nymph, hence her whole burrowing thing and the sounds she makes. Plus this is actually confirmed.
God Tamer: She’s an ant, but not a queen. She’s probably a worker who got separated from the colony. Her antenna are fairly distinctive in Hollownest and are very ant like. Plus she tames other species, something ant colonies effectively do by treating aphids like livestock
Ze’mer: So there’s two equally good guesses for what she is. The first is that she’s a silverfish, this would support her outsiderness given silverfish are a truly strange and primitive branch of bugs. The second possibility is that she’s a glow worm beetle, the adult stage of glow worm. This is also super plausible because of the antenna those beetles have lining up nicely with her fluff and drooping antenna. I think either one is a great interpretation.
now the harder ones.
Sly: So his size is notable, as is his eyes being very visibly compound, that combined with his mobility in the air and the sort of buzzing yoda type sound his voice has makes me think he’s a fly of some sort. Plus it rhymes.
Herrah: she’s most likely a horned baboon tarantula, the colors and size line up with what we see compared to the weavers and devout. Plus the horn on those tarantula line up shapewise fairly well with hers.
Pale King: This man to me has two different possibilities, either he’s a leg less lizard of some sort or more probably he’s some sort of really fucked up crustacean. We know Wyrms molt so that almost certainly rules out option one. My thought is that Wyrms have the same issues lobsters run into where they get bigger with every molt, so their exoskeleton gets heavier, thicker, and harder to break out of. Eventually they die, crushed under their own weight and unable to molt(this is when Wyrms generally abandon their larger form to make kingdoms). Verdict: something terribly cursed.
Bardoon: Bardoon, Bardoon, Bardoon, why must you be so difficult? So at first Bardoon really looks like a silkworm, the color is right, even the face of the two look super similar. But Bardoon is demonstrably longer than a silkworm has any right being, and his little nub/tail that you can hit distinctly resembles the “horn” all hornworms have. Despite that I’m nominally going to say he’s a silkworm until I find better evidence. Verdict: Concerning implications.
Gubs and Grubfather: Parasitic wasps maybe? The charm is called Grubberflys elegy, but their behavior mimics the way some wasps lay eggs inside of hosts so their young can eat their way out. Verdict: wasp things probably.
Tiso: So Tiso and Sharpe both look remarkably similar and from the very, very limited amount we’ve seen from both move similarly. In that vein they both look vaguely like assassin bugs, specifically assassin bug nymphs.
Vessels: Something even more fucked than the Pale King, they’re like mostly plant though I think? Like their masks look like his but are actually made of the White ladys bark/wood and grow constantly, their horns look a lot like her branches too. I imagine that their bodies have the same crustacean exoskeleton thing going on their dad has, so they’re probably incorporating heavy metals into their chitin. In all likelihood their mother being a plant and the light absorption the void displays means they’re photosynthetic in some way, it might explain how they grow too. The dangling bottom parts of the shades also look sorta like roots honestly, this also meshes well with how thorns of agony appears as void tendrils when activated. Verdict: Who tf knows, they’re definitely photosynthetic though.
The Shade Lord: So obviously this big chonker is literally just void, but their form distinctly resembles a dragonfly nymph, with four main arms/legs being used, and a distinctly predatory head shape. Plus we don’t see their bottom half, so I imagine it’s either a mass of roots like their mother, or something vaguely wormy. Verdict: Dragonfly thing
Isma: She is super fucking weird tbh, her head is shaped a lot like Vespas. Obviously however she’s some sort of pant being given the way we find her. My theory here is that she’s actually some other sort of bee, there’s a ton of bees that are solitary species. Based on that I’d say she was a bee— probably a white-banded digger bee— who became a devotee or worshipper of Unn. This may explain how the Pale king was allowed to build in green path. Unn let him build in her land and in return she got a loyal and powerful spy/pair of eyes in the Pale court.
73 notes
·
View notes
Text
So I’m making a Winx rewrite and decided to doodle some ideas and explain them below
I think it was a missed opportunity since Orgon is literally the Wizard of absorption and should have the ability to mimic powers after stealing them instead of absorbing their strength. I also changed the White Circle to be a weapon against the Wizards without any Earth Fairies being trapped inside of it cause in my rewrite they’re all dead (except Morgana and Roxy). Maybe they’ll appear as ghosts or something.
I don’t really remember if Roxy had mommy issues but I’m giving her that and her dad wife issues. She left haphazardly and Klaus didn’t get his memory wiped of her, so he resents her for leaving and essentially abandoning him and Roxy. Roxy would want to know of her mother more which makes them clash
Riven being jealous and butting heads with Musa was the only melodrama I thought fit, but the whole Jason Queen record deal thing isn’t really brought up after Season 4. And yeah here Jason Queen’s offer to Musa ends up putting a wedge in their relationship because that means she’ll be staying on Earth while Riven returns to Red Fountain, kinda like a couple separate worldwide which is quite hard for him.
I’m actually not 100% sure if it’s cannon, but it’s cannon in my rewrite soooo yeah
This is a weird one but HEAR ME OUT-
So Duman gets badly hurt and Nabu helps right? I didn’t like the idea of the wizards pretending to be allies before backstabbing the good guys, then Nabu dies and they just became lame. I plan to give most wizards a redemption arc and it starts with Gantlos and Nabu trucing for a bit to find a cure for Duman’s illness (caused by the white circle casting some spell on them, hence why they destroyed the other white circles). Gantlos gets Nabu’s help since he’s a wizard, the most cooperative and it’s the least awkward option. I like to imagine he calls Nabu a rookie in sorcery lmao
That’s it for now, and I have the first 2 episodes done for the rewrite
#fanart#art#digital art#doodle#winx club#winx rewrite#rewrite#winx season 4#winx roxy#winx riven#winx nabu#wizards of the black circle#winx gantlos#winx orgon#fanfiction
119 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cover of Story done by me.
Summary: Bitch. That was her definition. Y/N was the most popular girl in school, and now with Steve gone, she became the queen bee for her last year at Hawkins High. People either loved her or hated her to their core, but noone did a thing about her attitude. Spoiled, bitchy, brat, but hidden secrets lie inside of her that could shatter her image completely. A project, a stupid bet, and feelings will get her involved with the freak of the school.
And that changes her life forever.
Warnings: +18 MDNI, sex, drugs, alcohol usage, drug usage, bullying, physical abuse, abandonment issues, trust issues, partying, teenage shenanigans, cursing, and smut. So much smut. That includes, p in v, oral sex both ways, unprotected sex, intoxicated sex, rough sex, bondage, spanking, etc.
Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Angst and Fluff.
Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader, mainly and focused. Billy Hargrove x Reader later on and Billy is OOC (out of character, he is not a mean son of a cunt)
This book is written in POVs. Sometimes third person.
The reason why this story is not posted on here, is because I started Tumblr just recently, and I have been writing this story since last year.
It has 95 chapters guys.
95.
I won't take the time to post all of that here, it's impossible.
BUT, it's COMPLETED. So there is no waiting, just pure reading. Keep in mind that it is my second fanfiction and in the first few chapters it might be a bit chonky, but then I promise the writing gets better.
So if you want to go and read it here are the links:
WATTPAD / AO3
I assume all the new followers and readers I got in those platforms are from here, but welp, here you go again in case you missed this story!
and let me tell you that in my story people aren't just evil because that's just who they are. People have backstories, and plot twists that we solve through the story, which is full of angst
And when I say it's slow burn, I literally MEAN, slow burn.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#fanfiction#eddie munson fics#stranger things#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson ff#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fandom#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson lives#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things 4#eddie munson fluff#eddie x y/n#eddie x you#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x reader#wattpad#ao3#read on ao3#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#slow burn#billy hargrove x y/n#love triangle#eddie munson enemies to lovers
155 notes
·
View notes
Note
Yoooo Im still reeling at the fact that the Kings of Numenor are descendants of Turgon like FREAKING TURGON HOLY SHIT. Do you like Turgon? He's such an interesting character and I never saw his action of building a hidden city as an act of cowardice despite popular belief.
I LOVE Turgon he's so cool. My traumatized little mew mew.
Usually when a divine power comes to you in a dream and says "hey do this to save your people" you might want to at least consider doing it (and his downfall comes when he stops listening to Ulmo). And one thing I think is always relevant to consider when thinking about Turgon's character is that he convinced all these people to do Gondolin with him. Literally a THIRD of the Nolofinwean forces go with Turgon and just disappear into the ether never to be seen again as far as anyone else is concerned. A THIRD of their forces decided Turgon was the guy to follow. Even Aredhel, who backs out later, initially was onboard. Personally, I think it says a lot about how close they were--which is why my h/c is that they were each other's favorite sibling. This says something about him: either that he's very persuasive, or a very strong leader, or very likeable, or something. People don't just up and abandon their king to follow a different guy for no reason, and we know that Fingolfin was also well-liked, so Turgon did have competition.
And I don't think that protecting the people who chose to come with him was an act of cowardice. Turgon had a responsibility to the Gondolindrim and I think he took it very seriously, possibly especially after the trauma of the Helcaraxe and then their first battle in Middle-earth where his little brother Argon died. If Turgon had a downfall, it wasn't cowardice, it was pride, and allowing himself to believe that staying in Gondolin was safer than taking Ulmo's advice and abandoning the city (although in his defense, you can imagine how he convinced himself they were safer with city walls than no city walls, Valar be damned).
Turgon was also such a warrior that even in Bilbo's time the goblins still fear his sword. In The Lay of the Children of Hurin Tolkien calls him "Turgon the mighty" and notes that Melkor particularly wanted to catch Turgon at the Nirnaeth Arnoediad. In this same battle, he also gets the sexy sexy epithet "Turgon the terrible towering in anger" as he hacks an escape from the battle for him and his soldiers.
And this is another thing--while staying hidden was key to keeping Gondolin safe--Melkor never did find it except through trickery--he still comes to Fingon's aid during the Nirnaeth.
"But now a cry went up, passing up the wind from the south from vale to vale, and Elves and Men lifted their voices in wonder and joy. For unsummoned and unlooked for Turgon had opened the leageur of Gondolin, and was come with an army ten thousand strong, with bright mail and long swords and spears like a forest. When Fingon heard from afar the great trumpet of Turgon his brother, the shadow passed and his heart was uplifted, and he shouted aloud: ...The day has come! Behold, people of the Eldar and Fathers of Men, the day has come!'"
Turgon also does a great job making buddies with Men which is fun for him.
"Now in the phalanx of the guard of the King broke through the ranks of the Orcs, and Turgon hewed his way to the side of his brother; and it is told that the meeting of Turgon with Hurin, who stood beside Fingon, was glad in the midst of battle."
He stands out to me for how we never get any indication that he takes issue with his daughter Idril choosing to marry Tuor, a mortal, even though this means that should Turgon ever die, a Man will become prince consort of Gondolin (Idril is named as his heir, so presumably she would be a ruling queen).
I've never bought into the notion of Turgon having a contentious relationship with Maeglin either, for reasons explained here.
This man has just had so much trauma...Elenwe dying on the Helcaraxe, Argon getting killed as soon as they arrive, Aredhel being murdered right in front of him by her abusive spouse, Fingon getting stomped into jelly, Fingolfin's mutilated corpse getting delivered to him after the duel with Melkor...is it any WONDER he chooses to go down with the city when he realizes he made the wrong choice in staying?
"And [Thorondor] laid [Fingolfin] upon a mountain-top that looked from the north upon the hidden valley of Gondolin; and Turgon coming built a high cairn over his father. No Orc dared ever after to pass over the mount of Fingolfin or draw nigh his tomb, until the doom of Gondolin was come and treachery was born among his kin."
Want to talk about carrying on the family legacy? By the time Turgon takes the crown of high king of the Noldor, he is the last one left of Fingolfin's immediate descendants.
And you know, I think it's fun and cool of him to never forgive the Feanorians for abandoning the rest of them after Alqualonde. He should get to say whatever nasty shit to them he wants to. Worst cousins of Arda until Maeglin decides to give them a run for their money.
You know who else is related to Turgon of course--Elrond and Arwen. No wonder they're so cool and sexy.
76 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lost and Found || B.BH
♔ pairing: dionysus!byun baekhyun x f!ariadne!reader
♔ genre: angst, one-shot, fluff
♔ word count: 3.5k
♔ warnings: abandonment, murder
♔ abstract: Love comes with all kinds of sacrifices, and after everything she'd sacrificed for her own hopeful romance, all she really wanted was a lover to live with for the rest of her mortal existence. Though the universe—and for that matter the gods who inhabit it—has a cruel sense of humor.
♔ author's note: I've been thinking of writing a Greek mythology story for all of the exos (ot8 [minus Chen, the nation's husband and father]). I have a few plans already, though this one felt the easiest and quickest to execute cause I really wanted to test out and fix my link/tag issue on here 😔
for context, here's a rough synopsis of the Theseus story: the king of Crete angered Poseidon who cursed the queen into woohooing with the king's bull, thus creating a minotaur named Asterion. mortified by this creation, they banished him into a maze and alienated him as if he were nothing, thus creating the bloodthirsty monster he was. the king's son went to Athens bc they themselves had a minotaur problem, but their minotaur wound up killing him. the king of Crete blamed the king of Athens and after some altercations, it resulted in an annual tradition of sending a select few Athenians to serve as tribute and be eaten by Asterion. one of these tributes was Theseus, son of the king of Athens, and he actually defeated the Athenian minotaur. to help him in defeating Asterion, the Crete king's daughter, Ariadne, gave Theseus yarn so he'd be able to navigate the maze, which helped him in killing Asterion. afterwards, they sailed to Naxos, where he abandoned her. interpretations vary of course, but most involve Dionysus marrying Ariadne afterwards bc he fell in love w her.
masterlist
Nestled within the Aegean Sea, lost amongst the plethora of islands which dotted the cerulean expanse of the ocean, lays the idyllic yet ever forlorn island of Naxos. Viridescent fields of crops and greenery encompass the entirety of the island, sloped along the verdant hills which make up its landscape. The only obstruction to its rolling plains was that of its mountain at the very heart of the island, as well as the sandy beaches which encircled it all in a protective ring of golden grains.
Upon first arrival, it had seemed nothing short of picturesque—perhaps even going so far as being the most beautiful sight she'd ever observed in her rather dull and sheltered life thus far. The warmth of the sand which greeted her once she'd hopped off the boat felt like the welcoming embrace of a new start, the fine grains sinking beneath her every step as if accommodating to her new presence. The seas lapped against the shores as if reaching out to her, waving—both metaphorically and literally—like it were greeting an old friend. And the winds which carried with it the strong aroma of sea salt and petrichor encompassed her being in a cool and refreshing embrace, nearly cementing the thought that circulated in her head of what a perfectly quaint and romantic escape Naxos was for her and her lover to settle in and establish their new lives together.
At least that's how it had all felt no more than a day ago. It was astounding how much could change upon settling down to rest after the strenuous voyage to Naxos. A mere daytime nap, meant to simply reinvigorate her, had suddenly turned her whole world upside down, because upon opening her eyes, her lover, with whom she'd risked her entire life in order to save, had all but vanished: him, his boat, and by extension, her heart along with him. She couldn't even see a single speck of him remaining on the horizon, and the thought that he had left her the moment she'd fallen asleep felt ever more disparaging.
Now, she sat along the shore. The sands, cooled with the setting sun, cradled her dejected form. The cacophony of waves crashing against the island served to drown out her cries. And the winds, which had grown significantly weaker as the day waned, brushed against her face as if to gently wipe away her tears. Naxos, with its surreal beauty and tender acceptance, had become no more a prison prompted by her own circumstances just as her accomodations had been on Crete. Exchanging one pitiful excuse of a home for another, though now she was utterly alone.
And all she could do was cry to herself. Cry over her foolishness to have risked everything for a boy she'd fallen for so rashly. Cry over her imminent future and the dread of the unknown which lay in waiting for her. Cry over the abandonment and outright rejection from someone she once believed to be her soulmate.
What a miserable life she led.
What a tragic course of events she followed.
What an absolutely pathetic human being she was.
And how utterly vexing it was that she could not even wallow in her own self-pity by her lonesome for very long.
“(y/n)?”
Her body seemed to register the foreign voice before her mind had, as she slowly turned her tear stricken face towards the newcomer. Though once her eyes met those of the familiar deity, now standing a mere few feet away from her, she quickly turned back to her original position, staring out at the sea. By now, the harsh line of the horizon had become ingrained into her corneas, remaining in her vision even when her eyes were closed, yet she continued to stare forward, hoping to find a stray boat somewhere in the distance. Hoping to see her beloved rushing back to her as if his initial departure was nothing more than an accident. Hoping to fall back into his arms and forget the worries incessantly plaguing her mind.
Though once more, these desires went unanswered, and instead, she was met by this ever so gentle touch skimming carefully over her back.
“(y/n), look at me.”
The demand hadn't held much of an authoritative tone, more so that of an insistent plea, one where she could faintly discern the shreds of desperation laced in between. Yet she remained as is, eyes trained on the ocean, waiting. She thought by ignoring him, he'd leave her alone. Allow her to grieve in peace without his mischief and revelric tendencies. Let her sulk in her misfortune without being reminded of her affiliation with him. Yet he could not even spare her this one luxury.
Instead, in her periphery, she found him crouching onto the sand beside her, seating himself in a way so he could remain attached to her side. The heavy weight of his gaze lingered upon her, even as she attempted to ignore his presence as a whole. Though he seemed none the wiser to her efforts, or perhaps he merely couldn't care less what she thought of him—not that she's out right proclaimed her opinion of said god, but from mere context clues given their history together, she was sure he had a general understanding of where she stands with him.
It had been a few years since she first met Baekhyun. A rather untimely meeting with the god of wine and revelry, one marked by unrequited affections which has since plagued her every waking moment. She had never processed how burdensome it could become to be the apple of one's eye, especially if that particular person was a deity of Baekhyun's caliber, and one she felt nothing towards. And even now as she tends to a broken heart, abandoned on a remote island in the middle of nowhere with no means of escape, she still couldn't conceal the discomfort she felt in Baekhyun's presence, knowing fully well of his affections and how he had been waiting for her answer to his proposal.
Though unlike all the other times he’s randomly materialized before her, usually wreaking of that sickly sweet aroma of wine and teasing her relentlessly until she was pleading for him to leave her be, he sat there calmly and quietly, waiting for her to acknowledge him. It was a peculiar shift in his modus operandi, one that did not go by unnoticed by (y/n), yet even with the silence he granted her, she couldn't bear to speak to him as she usually would.
Humiliation silently lingered in the air even before she could say anything. She didn't know what she'd tell Baekhyun had he pestered her in his usual manner. The last thing on her mind was telling the man who proposed to her—with whom she'd essentially left unanswered—that the man she intended on running away with forever had all but left her stranded on an island to die in solitude. Though somehow, there was a small inkling in her that felt like Baekhyun already knew. And perhaps a smaller, more hopeful part of her believed he was here not to torment her, but rather to check up on her, ensure she was fairing well.
Hesitantly, her eyes strayed from where they'd been zeroed in along the horizon, sparing Baekhyun a small and brief glance.
It was odd. His eyes seemed duller now, a more muted umber tone devoid of that trademark glint he usually dons when running amok. He usually always bore this confident, bordering on cocky, grin that seemed all too pleased with himself and his shenanigans, yet now his lips were naturally downturned, perhaps the first time she's ever seen his mouth in its natural resting position. Even his scent was more subdued, and she was able to pick up the rich undertones of grapes usually concealed by his alcoholic carousing. His gaze was dropped, steadily trained on her hands laying in her lap, and the undivided attention only prompted more discomfort on her part as she fiddled with the fabric of her dress.
She had half a mind to ask him if he was okay, momentarily forgetting her own plight once she saw the shift in demeanor of Baekhyun. Though the silence that encompassed them prompted her own wariness in approaching the subject.
And so they remained as is, the sun now meeting the horizon, igniting the sky into a mural of warm, fiery hues. As the sun continued to set, it dyed the blue depth of the waters into a color akin to wine with its deep and rich crimson shade.
Without realizing it, her mind had begun wandering back to Baekhyun, curious as to why he remained by her side even as she ignored him. And though she didn't know for how long she'd strayed with these thoughts, she did know it was his presence alone that managed to briefly distract her from her current situation.
“Why are you here?” (y/n) asked, voice gravelly from misuse. For a moment, she was met with silence, the ocean serving as white noise to fill the void. But as she dared another glance his way, she saw his somber countenance. It was a foreign expression to be gracing his face, and she found herself intrigued by the furrow of his brow as he remained lost in thought.
“I went to visit you on Crete…” He finally responded, the timbre of his voice lowering with raw solemnity. “I know how you get with the annual tributes, so I wanted to be there for you.”
She shied away at this, never fully processing how Baekhyun's sporadic appearances coincided with certain times. And it was true. Every year as the Athenian tributes arrived on Crete, she distanced herself until after these events were done and over with. Though as she now recollected memories from recent years, she began putting together Baekhyun's arrivals were never truly as spontaneous as she first made them out to be.
He was always there whenever she was at her lowest. She thought it was intentional as a way of tormenting her when she's at rock bottom, but as he continued speaking, a pit of remorse began accumulating within her heart.
“Instead, I was met with… chaos. Carnage. Disorder.” He paused, turning his head in a direction she could only assume was where Crete faced. “Asterion was dead. A tribute had escaped. And the princess had all but disappeared.”
At his final statement, (y/n) stared down in shame. She knew there would be repercussions for her actions, but she thought she'd have been long gone at this point. Too far away to even spare a moment of regret for having abandoned her family and her kingdom. Yet it all came back to bite her. Her brother, cursed and estranged as he was, had been killed. Theseus, her lover who she assisted the entire way through, had been the one to kill him. And she, princess of Crete, had run off in the midst of this mayhem.
“I'm sorry…” (y/n) whispered, voice strained as she fought back tears. “I'm so sorry. I just couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't bear to see more death. Every single year without fail they'd send these Athenians off to die by my brother's hands. And we'd just have to sit there and watch. Watch as they all lost themselves to the labyrinth. And Asterion would…”
As if having finally broken the floodgates, tears began streaming down her face without fail. The tragic life of her brother, born a monster and treated as such. And even if she had never interacted with him, even as she witnessed his bloodshed year after year, the knowledge of his death being instigated by her own involvement was debilitating enough to ground her back into reality.
The gravity of her predicament began to settle in. Sitting on an island, hopelessly waiting for a guy she had only just met and was ready to run away with forever. The realization that he used her for his own benefit, exploited her blind affections towards him only to then leave her for dead. He had probably already returned to Athens, assumed the role of hero who killed the minotaur of Crete—as well as that of their princess. And she sat there, longing for him for hours at a time, seated beside Dionysus himself. The absurdity of it all was almost laughable, and she'd probably be doing just that if it weren't for the overwhelming humiliation she felt coiled and festering within her.
“I helped him…” She confessed aloud. “I gave him the thread so he wouldn't get lost in the maze. I was the one who helped him defeat Asterion. I was the one who helped him escape. It was all my doing. And he left me here as repayment.”
Before she could continue, Baekhyun had suddenly shifted from his position, arms wrapping around her tightly and dragging her into his embrace. Any other time, she'd probably have swatted at him whilst yelling profanities, all while he laughed in delight at her hostility.
Yet now his touch didn't feel repulsive.
She could feel his warmth fully encompassing her, shielding her from the outside world. His hands clung to her body as if afraid she'd slip away from him at any moment. And now closer to him than ever before, she could smell his true aroma past the wine. An almost woodsy scent, just as warm as he was. Fruits and earth and nature as a whole. Faintly, she could smell the ocean intermingling with his scent.
It was so peculiar the way that distinct saltiness had first felt like a refreshing start to a new life, though shifted into an overwhelming and paralyzing apprehension that infested every aspect of her being. Though now, in Baekhyun's protective arms, it felt comforting. As if he himself dispelled it and this island of any and all of its negativity that consumed her.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the tension from her body had melted away. The sound of his heartbeat coinciding with that of the calm waves was like a melodious harmony that transcended her into a state of utter tranquility. His breathing lulled her away from the worries that tormented her heart, and she finally felt at peace.
“Did you love him?” Baekhyun asked. His tone was more inquisitive than anything else. There were no hidden intentions with his question, and although hesitant to admit it aloud to him, for fear of hurting him, (y/n) felt at ease with telling Baekhyun the truth he sought.
“Yes,” she responded quietly. “But I regret it. I regret it all.”
“Don't.” His grip tightened around her, pressing his forehead against the top of her head. “You shouldn't regret the love you give people. Don't let this foolish boy disparage you from expressing yourself to your fullest potential.”
(y/n) remained quiet, surprised by the turn of the events, though still listening intently to Baekhyun's words.
“I've always held such deep admiration towards you. From the moment I met you till now. I could see the way you loved so genuinely and fully. And I thought it was beautiful. I thought you were beautiful. You shouldn't grieve over an unrequited love. Loss serves as a reminder of the love we once felt, and the remorse we feel further exemplifies that. Your love is something so wonderful. Something I adore greatly.”
As he spoke, his warmth seemed to intensify. Filled with familiarity and security, coaxing her further into his embrace until she buried herself into the crook of his neck. He held her as if she were everything he had ever asked for. His touch was like ambrosia and nectar, the sweetest of prose to ever be professed, a safety like no other.
“I find myself wanting to be inconvenienced by you. I want to have you distracting me by lingering in my thoughts. I want to take time out of my day just to see you. I want to love you, even if you don't love me.”
At this, a sob slipped past her lips, and she clung onto him harder. Away from it all, everything inside her felt tumultuous and heightened. All of the emotions she'd been bottling up for years seemed to overflow in Baekhyun's presence alone. Her heart ached with grief, remorse, hatred, anger, defeat. Yet it also sang like never before, healing itself from years of anguish and torment.
And after the cathartic intervention came to a conclusion, faces marred by dried tears and eyes reddened with strain, a peaceful serenity had settled over the two. By now, the sun had long set. The cool of the night had begun penetrating the warmth of their embrace. The sand beneath them no longer retained the heat of the afternoon sun. The oceans were calm and still. The winds now settled into a gentle breeze. The world was asleep, silent in every regard. The day had ended and (y/n) had made it out alive, no doubt due to Baekhyun's influence.
Panic begin settling in her as he shifted, rising to his feet and pulling her up with him. Though when she met his gaze, loving and sweet and attentive, she began to settle once more. His hands held her own, thumbs softly brushing over her knuckles, all the while maintaining his sight on her face.
“What would you like to do?” He asked. “I can build you a palace here on Naxos, away from the cruelties of the world and the people who inhabit it.” His smile grew wider, bearing that familiar wickedness whenever he was up to no good. “I could overthrow the monarchy of Crete and reinstate you as its sole sovereign, allow you to redeem yourself and your honor, perhaps even reestablish Crete as a just and fair kingdom.” Both options were tempting, neither having any inherent consequences as long as Baekhyun held sway in their components. And she could tell Baekhyun had more to say, but she quickly intercepted before he could propose another offer.
“I want to be with you.” Baekhyun blinked at this, chuckling as if she were telling a joke.
“I will be there. You can't get rid of me that easily.”
“No.” Her hands slipped from his, reaching forth to cup his cheeks and bring him closer. “I choose you, Baekhyun.”
She pressed her lips against his own, soft and delicate. He seemed stunned for a moment, his body moving subconsciously for the first second or two, but once he had fully processed where he was and what was happening, Baekhyun began reciprocating. He kissed back just as earnestly, his hands reaching up to hold onto her wrists as he poured every ounce of his adoration into her. And (y/n) couldn't help but think how perfect it was.
She'd always thought love at first sight was perhaps the most romantic of gestures one could have. The act of finding your soulmate from a single encounter seemed so otherworldly and unmatched. Yet here in this moment with Baekhyun's body pressed against her own as he drew impossibly closer to her, his hands softly wandering in an attempt to map her form into his memory, she found this very moment to be the epitome of what love should be. A gradual fall into love. In a way, she can reminisce on growth and development, reflect on what was not there and how it came to be.
One of his hands had wandered to her hair, gently carding his fingers through the strands, and the other drew patterns on her waist, amorphous shapes that each portrayed his unspoken love for her. She thought back on every encounter she had with him. Every laugh he coaxed out of her even as she tried to hide away from the world. The bittersweet smiles he gave her every time she rejected or delayed his proposal. His neverending determination and devotion, even when facing adversities like herself. And with each revelation, each tender kiss from Baekhyun, her heart seemed to swell with love for him and him alone.
Once more, he was the one to pull away first, perhaps more in control of his long-standing affections than her, yet he didn't draw too far from her. Just far enough for him to look over her countenance with a lovestruck expression of his own. His eyes glistened with this saccharine-like joy, crinkling at the corners with his sweet smile dedicated to her. And she found herself smiling back, an uncontrollable jubilance bubbling in her as she reveled in his affections.
“Come then,” he spoke softly, hands returning back to hers. He brought one up to his lips, pressing one final kiss to her fingers. “Let's go home.”
#k-labels#baekhyun x reader#baekhyun fanfiction#baekhyun fanfic#byun baekhyun x reader#byun baekhyun fanfiction#byun baekhyun fanfic#exo x reader#exo fanfiction#exo fanfic#kpop x reader#kpop fanfiction#kpop fanfic
48 notes
·
View notes
Text
Character Profile: Koryak
And so we come to the last (but never least, not in my heart) Lost Titans profile: Koryak! My terrible, damp boy.
Look at him pout! How I love him.
Koryak debuted in the 1994 Aquaman series. (Note: I'm not sure what his last name is - his mother's is never mentioned, and even though I sometimes tag him as "Koryak Curry," I don't think he would use Arthur's last name, especially since even Arthur didn't use that name very much at the time.)
As I've mentioned before, Arthur has had a lot of different origins, but in the post-Crisis era, which the only era Koryak appeared in, Arthur's mother was the queen of Atlantis, and his father was Atlan, an ancient Atlantean sorcerer who impregnated her in a dream. Arthur was abandoned at birth because of the infidelity/his blond hair, was raised by dolphins (yes), and briefly lived with a human man named Arthur Curry who taught him English and gave him a human name to borrow.
Then Arthur - still a teenager at this point - went to Alaska, where he immediately rescued a teenage girl named Kako from a polar bear. Kako and her family took Arthur in in gratitude, and he and Kako fell in love. (Kako's family is sometimes said to be Inuit, sometimes Inupiat.)
Anyway, Arthur and Kako lose their virginities to each other. IN THE SNOW, FOR SOME REASON:
This is such an infuriating racist, sexist trope (the WOC with the broken English throws herself at the white hero, logic be damned - why isn't she wearing anything under her coat??? - but of course she will never be his wife, or anything more than a footnote in his story).
Immediately after this, tragedy strikes Kako's family, Arthur is blamed (it's not his fault), and he's thrown out. He returns to the ocean, and eventually goes on to become Aquaman, king of Atlantis, etc.
Years later, he returns to Alaska for plot reasons not worth going into, and that's when he meets Koryak, THE MOST NINETIES BOY OF ALL:
The shirtlessness, the swords, the hair! Truly a man of his era. (Boy? I always assumed he was about 18 here, but a Secret Files issue claims he was 16.)
Koryak is not Arthur's biggest fan, but after Kako turns into a fire elemental because this is the DCU and these things happen, Koryak decides to go to Atlantis with Arthur. Or, well, technically the city was called Poseidonis at the time, which will be important later.
Anyway, the Poseidonians are a little wary of a stranger at first, until Koryak saves a child's life and suddenly they love him. Koryak, who didn't really fit in in Alaska, is basking under the attention, but it doesn't go over well with the current king, Thesily (Arthur had stepped down a while back for Reasons), who is wildly jealous of Arthur, and fears Arthur is looking to take his throne back and now comes complete with heir.
So Thesily leads Koryak into a side room and tries to stab him to death. Luckily, a sudden earthquake causes a pillar to topple over and trap Thesily. Koryak gloats and leaves him to die. What a brat! I adore him!
The earthquakes aren't stopping, and the people of Poseidonis want to flee. Arthur tells them not to because a prophecy said they should stay, but Koryak leads the Poseidonians out of the city and to their sister city, Tritonis, which is where the merpeople live. There, the Poseidonians immediately proceed to be huge assholes to the Tritonians, using up their resources and being racist to them. (Introducing Koryak, an indigenous man and literally the only character of color underwater at this point in time, and having him lead a bunch of racist colonizers was...maybe not Peter David's best choice.)
Anyway, Koryak decides to open up some forbidden tunnels because he feels like it, and they turn out to be forbidden because they were imprisoning Kordax, Arthur and Koryak's evil immortal blond lizard man ancestor. Naturally.
Arthur rolls up with his crew (his girlfriend, his dad, and Garth) and Koryak and Garth throw down. It doesn't go well for Koryak:
I LAUGH EVERY TIME.
Anyway, Arthur's side wins, Kordax is killed, the Tritonians are freed, and Arthur decides that to make it up to them, the Poseidonians are going to serve them as slaves indefinitely. That...seems like compounding human rights violations on top of human rights violations, but okay. Anyway Koryak volunteers to stay and serve the Tritonians as well, because he feels guilty about what he's done.
...for a little while. Then he gets bored and decides they should leave. The king of Tritonis is like "Says who?" and Garth shows up out of nowhere and is like "Says me" and the king's like "Oh shit, okay" and lets them go, leaving Koryak both grateful and resentful towards Garth. I am eating this up with a SPOON btw.
Koryak returns to Tritonis, where he immediately falls back into old habits of resenting his father. Vulko, an advisor of Arthur's who is currently mad at him, sees this and decides to use it as an opportunity to overthrow Arthur:
(The scar across his nose is from Kordax. Later artists forgot it and I wish they hadn't.)
Vulko and Koryak plot for like...a really long time without anything coming of it. Arthur knows perfectly well that it's happening but doesn't do anything about it, even though he could put a stop to it by simply, like...showing Koryak five minutes of positive attention, ever, in his life. Because it's really, really obvious that Koryak just needs positive reinforcement, and would be fully Team Arthur if Arthur would just give him a reason - at one point when Arthur briefly dies (he gets better), Koryak is willing to die to try to avenge him and save Garth and Dolphin from torture. He's not all bad! He's just drawn that way!
Anyway, Arthur comes back to life and Poseidonis decides to make him king again. Just as he's about to be crowned, GARTH tries to overthrow him and steal the throne - but that's just because Garth has been holding Arthur's magic trident and was possessed by him. Arthur overpowers him, and then tells him that he's not mad and in fact, he's proud of Garth for holding out as long as he did.
Then Koryak tries his hand:
And like...yes, Garth only tried to steal the throne because he was possessed and Koryak did it willingly, but Koryak also tried to help Arthur when Garth went rogue. Again, it is so, so clear that Koryak's loyalty was Arthur's for the asking, but Arthur never asked. Instead, he praised Garth for trying to overthrow him and then told Koryak to his face how much he sucked.
Arthur is at least merciful enough to commute the normal sentence for treason from death to banishment, and Koryak is kicked out of Atlantis. Arthur then literally never thinks about him for the next SEVEN YEARS. (Okay, Koryak shows up very briefly for three issues in 1999 and Arthur thinks about him while he's looking directly at him, and then forgets he exists again. But then, Arthur also repeatedly forgets about his own wife. Arthur is terrible.)
Anyway, seven years later, Arthur has also been banished from Atlantis, and is now living in Sub Diego, which is what happens when half of San Diego inexplicably falls into the ocean and a small percentage of the traumatized people discover they can breathe underwater. Koryak, meanwhile, has returned to Atlantis to fight with Garth some more:
Love this for them!
Koryak, btw, is arguing that the survivors of Sub Diego should be allowed to move to Atlantis, and Garth's like "Uhhh they wouldn't fit in" and Koryak's like "Wow, racist." Ahem. In general, Koryak during this period is a lot calmer and more mature than he used to be, and also a lot more willing to forgive Arthur for All the Bullshit:
Also, there's a joke that implies Koryak might be queer?
Literally that's the joke here: Koryak is talking about a guy named Malrey (half-shark, half-cop, and no I am not kidding), and Lorena, who has a crush on Koryak, is clocking that she may not have a chance. I don't know if this was just a throwaway gay joke, which happened all the time in 2005, or if it was going somewhere, but we'll never know. (For the record, even though Garth says Koryak has a crush on Lorena, that doesn't appear to be true, especially since Lorena is underage and Koryak is definitely an adult by now. I don't think we should take Garth's line there as anything but dismissive of Koryak's outreach to the Sub Diegoans. Also, back in the 90s, Koryak definitely had a crush on a minor character called Deep Blue, a.k.a. Debbie Perkins, but that never went anywhere, which is good because SHE WAS ARTHUR'S HALF-SISTER. (She and Arthur made out a bunch before they knew, because Arthur loves kissing girls his sons have crushes on. YIKES ALL AROUND.) (Also just kidding, Arthur doesn't pay enough attention to any of his kids to know who they have crushes on.))
Anyway. Back to the plot. Mera is very sick because of Evil Magic, and Garth decides to perform a massive spell to save her, and Koryak agrees to help. This spell attracts the attention of the Spectre, who was evil at the time, and he, uh...destroys Atlantis, killing Koryak, Garth, and almost everyone else. Arthur finally acknowledges that he was a shitty dad:
Immediately after this issue, the book's title changed from Aquaman to Aquaman: Sword of Atlantis. The main character is not the Arthur we know, but a new, younger Arthur, Arthur Joseph Curry, who turns out to be a cousin of our Arthur. His mentor is a guy called the Dweller in the Depths, who has a tentacle face like Davey Jones from the Pirates movies. It is eventually revealed that the Dweller is actually Regular Arthur, with traumatic amnesia. Why? Why does he have a tentacle face now? NEVER EXPLAINED.
Anyway, we also meet this guy:
Narwhal's character design is...suggestive, let's say? Also suggestive: Garth has also turned up alive, and like "Narwhal," he now has albinism and partial amnesia. And Narwhal knows the name "Orin," though he can't place it. (It's Arthur's Atlantean name.)
Anyway, Narwhal is sent to kill this "Orin":
Narwhal kills Arthur/Orin/the Dweller, but it doesn't bring him peace, because he still doesn't know who he is - and Orin did, at the last minute. He goes to Atlantis for answers, and Mera confirms it, at least for the reader:
...and that's the last issue of Sword of Atlantis. WOMP WOMP. All of the Aquaman characters disappeared until Blackest Night (when Arthur returned). Koryak never appeared again, and was retconned out with the New 52. Oh well, at least the narwhal tusk spear is pretty dope.
As of Infinite Frontier, the pre-52 universe has been pretty much restored, which should mean that Koryak is back in continuity...but DC is still keeping Arthur's New 52/Rebirth origin intact, which means he did not spend any of his teenage years in Alaska, which means Koryak was never conceived. So things could go either way - any writer who feels like bringing him back could do so easily, but they don't have to.
I call Koryak "my terrible boy" a lot, and he's undeniably pretty obnoxious: immature, bratty, petty, unforgiving, and, uh...awfully on board with murder, let's say? He is also extremely young when we first meet him, and is instantly slammed with trauma: his mother essentially dies, someone tries to murder him, he's physically and mentally violated by Kordax. I'll say again that the slightest bit of positive attention from Arthur probably could have changed his entire life, but he never got it. SO HE'S GONNA GET IT FROM ME INSTEAD.
Anyway, I love Koryak very, very much, and have already written fic about him. And I have another Koryak fic in the works for after The Lost Titans is published. And I will never stop whining at DC to bring him back. If Koryak has one fan (he does), it's me. But maybe now it's you, too?
93 notes
·
View notes
Note
I rewatched arcane for the 20th time and i got to sevika being tied up and taunted by jinx. Homegirl IMMEDIATELY fires back and in the most cutting way possible. harsh but...yeah XD
Then i thought about her line "silco finally gets the message that you're about as good for our cause as you were for your family."
like she always held out hope silco would put jinx on the backburner or good (if not outright discard her but i think even she knew deep down that wasn't gonna happen anytime soon)
do you think, in FnF, it was sevika who got the message that silco was never gonna put her anywhere except the pedestal he placed her on in the first place, no matter what?
Heeee that exchange is fascinating on so many levels - because it truly shows how deep their antagonism runs, but also that Sevika is the queen of PETTY, and has no qualms messing with the head of a traumatized teenage girl just to get the edge on her XD
It's also interesting in that she goes 'Silco finally gets the message', as if she's holding on to the hope that he'll get wise to how much of a literal jinx the girl is, and cast her aside. It puts Silco on the same weird pedestal we assign family members IRL when they begin dating/befriending someone we don't like. We lay the issue at the feet of the third party, and decide that if not for them, our loved one would be absolutely reasonable/rational and would see things our way.
It's such an interesting peek into the way Sevika views Silco too - and how she considers his attachment of Jinx out of character, at least from her own perspective, and stubbornly holds on to hope that he'll revert to a more ruthless and disciplined version of himself, and give the brat the boot.
I think in FnF, Sevika realizes that'll never happen, after the Bloody Sunday chapter, where Silco basically abandons his position to go chasing after Jinx. I think while she's by herself, it slowly sinks in that he's made his priorities plain.
And, heartbreakingly, they are neither Zaun - nor her.
:c
#arcane#arcane league of legends#arcane silco#silco#asks#forward but never forget/xoxo#forward (never forget)/xoxo#arcane jinx#jinx#arcane sevika#sevika#silco x sevika#sevilco
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
The arcana as stolen memes again, again
Julian; the desire to disappear vs the desire to be held and wanted
~~~
Mc: what is the most complicated way to cook an egg?
Nadia without missing a beat: Atmospheric re-entry
Mc holding an egg:...well shit
~~~
Muriel: What if instead of stepping out of my comfort zone I step into an even comfier zone?
~~~
Lucio: huge fan of when my speech patterns rub off on people enjoy when that happens
Lucio: NEVERMIND, my mum just said skill issue to me
~~~
Mc: I wish I had the ability
Muriel:...to do what?
Mc:yeah
Muriel:...
Mc:...
~~~
Asra: I think we should have glowstick juice injected in our bones when we're born so if we break em there's a fun little surprise
Mc: whats the surpise?
Julian cutting in: blood poisoning
~~~
Lucio: if you step on a person's foot they open their mouths, just like trash cans.
Mc: trying not to encourage him by laughing*
~~~
Mc: one time Asra put a glass of milk on the table in front of me and I meant to ask them 'who's milk is this?' because I wasn't sure if it was for me or if they were putting it down on the table to go grab something else and I just stared down at the milk and said 'who's this?' and they turned around and without missing a beat said 'that's your new friend mr.milk' then we stared at each other for a solid twenty seconds before they asked if I was high.
~~~///~~~
(modern day arcana *not the au faking it*)
Nadia: the worst part about parallel parking is the witnesses
Mc: you know their are no witnesses if you're bad enough at parallel parking
~~~
Mc; those moments when straight people assume you're one of them and you feel like a gay secret agent
Nadia: lebionage
Portia:bi spy
Julian: it's an ace case
Asra: secret gaygent
~~~
Nadia: 'kobe' is for accuracy and precision while 'yeet' is for power and distance
Mc: I can turn this into dnd stats
Nadia:???
Mc:Kobe is dexterity, yeet is strength, oof is constitution, tea is intelligence, yolo is wisdom, and wig is charisma
~~~
Mc; You want to know one of my favorite facts? If you leave a hamster wheel out in the forest wild mice will come and run on it. That is one of my favourite facts.
Muriel:... bobcats and lynx's will sit in cardboard boxes abandoned in the forest. I asked Asra about it and they said 'cat's' while shrugging.
~~~
Mc; George Washington died in 1799, 15 years before the first dinosaur was classified. So therefore, Gorge Washington never knew about dinosaurs
Portia: Why does this make me so sad?
~~~
Nadia: if you add two pounds of sugar to literally one ton of concrete it will ruin the concrete and make it unable to set properly. Which is good to know if you want to resist something being built, French anarchists used this to resist prison construction in the 80's.
Portia: I'm just going to go ahead and take a note about this for purely educational purposes.
~~~
Julian: you got to be dunkin my doughnuts
Asra: you gotta be hutting my pizza
Portia: you gotta be mackin my donalds
Nadia: you're really innin my outs here, buddy. You're fivein my guys.
Lucio: ya whiting my castle. Ya darying my queen. Ya steaking my shake.
Mc: but are you belling my taco?
~~~///~~~
(ones with my oc's because why not)
Hunter: stuck in an elevator because Portia decided to jump?
Everyone minus Muriel and Julian: fucken mint
Hunter: Julian's had three panic attacks in ten minutes?
Everyone minus Muriel and Julian: Fucken mint
Hunter:Muriel hasn't said a thing since we got stuck?
Everyone minus Muriel and Julian: Fucken mint
Hunter: Lucio being immature and yelling the whole time?
Everyone minus Muriel and Julian: Fucken mint
Hunter: Asra has just been listening to music and trying to call Nadia to come get us?
Everyone minus Muriel and Julian: Fucken mint
Hunter: Kyle has to pee so bad he might get a bladder infection?
Everyone minus Muriel and Julian: Fucken mint
Hunter: Lucio's going to be the one we blame because we all hate his fucking guts
Everyone minus Muriel and Julian: Fucken mint
~~~
Hunter: I've got some kind of allergic reaction going on and my face is breaking out in a bad rash and Julian is freaking out and wants to take me to the hospital. Portia was like 'let's not make any rash decisions' and we high-fived and now Julian is yelling at both of us.
~~~
Hunter: someone will be like 'coca cola can remove rust from metal imagine what it's doing to your body' like psssh removing the rust obviously
Nadia: that's not how that works
Hunter: Yeah? while I don't have rust in my body so check mate
Nadia:
#the arcana#the arcana game#the arcana shitpost#the arcana memes#the arcana mc#asra the arcana#nadia the arcana#julian the arcana#portia the arcana#muriel the arcana#lucio the arcana#mc kyle#mc hunter
32 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
haledssongaboutlove
Broadway Baby
kimyounseok-blog
제목 없음
legman777
Untitled
sarlija
Sarlija༆⚰️
haledssongaboutlove
Broadway Baby