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#i know a lot of us don’t write like that anymore because the community is in shambles
inklore · 18 days
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can we bring back fun fics? ya know when they weren’t taken too seriously, where we were simply writing them to feel that ooshy gooshy feeling and laugh and feel. nowadays i feel like all that matters is how intense the smut is, and trust i love smut. i am its number one fan. but i feel like its become a means to popularity, only writing it because it’s following a status quo of readers who only care about fics when it includes filth. like its not wrong to want the filth. we all love the filth. but please bring back the silly little plots. give me one bed, give me unrealistic fake dating, give me a wild crossover with fandoms that shouldn’t work together but do, give me something crazy like aliens invading or dinosaurs! like all of those things can lead to tooth rotting fluff or shaky knees smut. just bring back the feels! the silliness! the reasons why we all stay up until all hours of the night devouring these works of art!!
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softnoirr · 2 months
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You hate pdd? Why? 😭
I wouldn’t go as far as to say I *hate* it, I just got to a place where I derived zero joy from writing it, and then managed to keep at it until I got to a place even further than that where I was actively upset whenever I did write it. But I kept going because I wanted to finish what I’d started and people read it. I was writing because I wanted to meet peoples expectations, which meant that if the chapters didn’t get “enough” statistical affirmation then I felt bad.
I’ve been constantly feeling like it needs to be edited to mesh the style of the chapters which were far apart from each other better, but to do that I’d have to read it and trying to do that makes me feel genuinely ill and makes me hate all of my writing in it so far. Which leaves me trapped in a weird anxious spiral where I can’t go and read it because that stresses me out but thinking about how messy parts of it are makes me even more stressed.
This week has been the first time in months I’ve enjoyed writing fiction and it’s been over a year since I enjoyed pdd. I might come back to it, but I just needed to not look at it anymore, and having that “12/25” on my homepage felt mocking lmao.
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verstappen-cult · 2 months
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Could you do a Lestappen one where they act as her voice after reader is advised not to speak due to a sore throat that has left her hoarse
Your phone lights up with an incoming facetime call from your mother, Charles is grabbing it before you can even reach for it.
“Charles?” Your mother’s voice cuts through the air. “Hello, darling. Where’s my daughter? What did the doctor say?”
“He advised her not to speak or it may get worse. He also prescribed her some medicine.” That’s when Max enters the living room, a glass of water and your pills on his palm. You see him waving at your mother before joining you on the couch.
“Take this, baby. It will make you feel better.” You kiss Max’s cheek before accepting the pills and water. “Good girl.” He says, making you blush. You mouth to him to stop, pouting to your phone. You’re definitely never going to be facing your mother again if she heard him. But she doesn’t say anything, so you relax.
Charles chats animatedly with your mother for a few minutes while you cuddle next to Max and look for something to watch on the TV.
“How is work going, darling?” Your mother asks. You’re going to open your mouth to answer her, but Max beats you to it.
“Everything’s good. Next week she’s going to Paris for a meeting,” Max explains, hand on your knee. “something about making some changes to one of the last projects.” He shrugs and you feel your heart hammering in your chest.
It’s unbelievable how much they care about you. Ever since you’ve been like this they have not leave your side. And it is not like they don’t do that every day but now it’s just extra special. And kinda funny because you can talk, the doctor said you can’t raise your voice and need to drink lots of water, but can communicate verbally. It’s them that won’t let you.
The call ends with your mother telling you to take care and thanking your boyfriends for being so attentive with you.
“How are you feeling?” Charles asks and, knowing they will scold you if you talk, you give him a thumbs up. Your throat doesn’t hurt that much anymore.
The bell rings and Max is up in no time, when he comes back there’s a smiling Lando by his side.
He waves at you and Charles before handing you a bag. “I got you this. They bullied me into buying it because it is my fault you can’t talk now.” Lando looks down when he meets Max intense gaze, he looks like a scolded child.
When you open the bag you find a whiteboard and a pen. It makes you laugh and decide to use it. They wait patiently as you take your time to write, making them believe you’re actually writing something important. Once you finished you turn it around to reveal a ‘you’re all idiots’.
You know you will be using the whiteboard a lot around them because it’s impossible to get them to understand that you are fine. It may be a little annoying but you wouldn’t trade them for anything.
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Leave My Wife Alone (Art Donaldson)
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Description: Y/N wants to Retire but Tashi isn’t okay with that.
Word Count: 753
Request: If you’re still taking requests could you write a fic for Art Donaldson pls: where he’s married to the reader who is a retired tennis player who Tashi became a huge fan of during college, when YN retires Tashi becomes bitter that she did and tries to pressure her into coming out of it, and it makes Art so upset that he confronts her about her about bothering his wife and her obsession with her life
Y/N Donaldson was a famous name through Tennis. Well Y/N Y/L/N was but when her and Art got married she changed her last name to his. The Donaldsons. They both were big tennis players, loved throughout the community. Tashi Duncan was Y/N’s biggest fan. They met in College and Y/N was surprised that when she faced off against Tashi she was a good sport about it.
Tashi was known for not being a good sport but since she was a huge Y/N fan she was honored. Thus began the friendship that they have now. Tashi and Y/N always talked about Tennis. It was their favorite Topic. When Y/N and Art got married Tashi was her maid of honor. “I want to retire.” She told Art as they ate dinner. Art was playing a challenger so they were at a luxury Hotel. “Are you sure?” He asked. She nodded.
“Yup. I’m 32 years old. I think this is it for me and I want to start a family.” The last part made him smile. Art always wanted kids but figured it would be best to wait for the right time. “Whatever you do I’ll support. I just don’t know about Tashi.” Tashi was gonna be heartbroken. “Well I’m sure she’ll understand.” Y/N said not believing her own words. “Will she though?” Art asked unsure. “I mean you’re still playing.” “Yeah but she doesn’t care about Art Donaldson, she cares about Y/N Donaldson.”
She smiles at the use of his last name after her first. She loved it. “I will tell her when the time is right.” Y/N said and got up with her plate. No time was right. They both knew that. As she was washing her plate she felt Art behind her. His breath was hitting her neck, “So is it too early to start thinking about a baby?” He asked. She giggled and turned around to face him, “Never.” She said and kissed him. He lifted her up onto the table and smiled against her lips. 
“So I’ve been thinking a lot about this and I want to retire.” She shut her eyes tight after she Tashi. Tashi felt the world stop. This was her biggest fear. Since she couldn’t play Tennis anymore, Y/N was her way in. “No. You can’t.” She said. “Tashi, I’m 32 now and I want a family.” “You have a family. You don’t need to quit Tennis for that.” Y/N looked at her as she ranted. “I mean you’re the best Tennis player right now, why stop now?”
“Tashi I understand but-” “If I could still play I would. I would have never thrown it away.” “Tashi I’m not throwing it away. Wait, is that what this is about? You can’t play Tennis so I should?” “No, I just think you still have a lot of years left in you.” “Art is still playing.” Y/N said. “Art is nowhere near as good as you are. I care about Y/N Donaldson not Art Donaldson.” 
Art was pissed. He knew that Tashi was going to be this way but he still had a little hope that she would be a good friend. “I mean she said that you shouldn’t quit because she never got the chance to play like this?” He asked. “It was implied.” Art was so mad at Tashi for implying that. It was sickening. He was wide awake when Y/N went to sleep. He stared at the ceiling as he thought about what Tashi said to his wife. How could she? Y/N was a great player but she deserved to be happy and not have Tennis be her life forever.
He got up quietly and took his phone with him. He went to Tashi’s contact and hit call. He waited as it rang. “Hello?” She answered. “Listen, I understand that you didn’t get your big dreams of Tennis but that does not mean Y/N has to suffer for it. What you said today was so uncool and you aren’t a very good friend.
You only care about Tennis and you are so obsessed with her career that it’s gonna kill you when she retires because you’ll have nothing left. You only care about one thing and it’s Tennis not her well being or anything like that. Just Tennis. It’s Pathetic Tashi.” He said and hung up the phone. He sighed and went back to the bedroom. He got in bed and could actually fall asleep. Though he wasn’t ready for what Tashi was gonna say tomorrow.
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Failing
Summary: Joel made many mistakes. The biggest was leaving you.
Pairing: past Joel Miller x fem. reader
Wordcount: 1.3k
Rating: G
Warnings: angst, a lot of inner thoughts, panic attacks, Joel and Ellie do not talk, Joel is a mess, lots of talk about being a failure and not good enough, messy breakup, unplanned pregnancy
A/N: This has been going through my mind since I saw the new pic yesterday. This is really different from everything I write usually, so let me know what you think. And yeah, come yell at me in my inbox
follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics
part one of invisible string
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He knew he should have stayed home tonight.
He could have worked on… something. He could have talked himself into picking up his guitar and pretend everything was okay.
He could pretend that he wasn’t a failure.
He could pretend Ellie was still talking to him.
Instead he was here, the people around him celebrating god knows what, music playing, people dancing and he?
He was hoping to at least get a look at the girl that had become like a daughter to him. The daughter he lost because he lied to her.
Turned out his mother was right, lying was not getting him anywhere. 
He hadn’t talked to her in weeks, not getting more than a fleeting look at her from afar like a creepy stalker.
Tommy was right, he needed to give her time.
But somehow he felt like time was running out. 
Tommy had been right in a lot of things lately. Something Joel was not used to, still having the irresponsible young man in the back of his mind he had been before outbreak.
But Tommy wasn’t that man anymore.
He was a husband, a father, a respected leader of the little community he had helped build.
And Joel was…. He did not feel like he changed much. He was still angry all the time.
Angry at the world.
Angry at the people.
But most of all angry at himself.
The way he was feeling now? Alone and lonely?
He had no one but himself to blame for it.
It was moments like these that you came to his mind.
You would know what to do. You would know how to fix this mess that he got himself into. You always did. Until he had pushed you away for good, almost six years ago when he got even more involved in the underground in the Boston QZ.
Meeting and falling in love with you had been the only good thing that had happened to him since the outbreak. You had seen him, the real him.
The broken man that was desperate for… something.
That something seemed to be you.
But like every good that happened to him, he managed to fuck this up too. Not at first, but definitely in the end. 
And he tried. He tried to become a better person. Tried to become the man you deserved, not listening to you when you told him that he did not have to become a better person.
That you fell for him the way he was. With all flaws he thought he had.
But maybe if he had worked on himself he wouldn’t have reacted so poorly when you told him that you were pregnant.
Maybe he wouldn’t have blamed you and you only, taking the easy way out and telling you he would not go through this again.
He should have talked to you, instead of lashing out, should have told you how fucking scared he was about losing another child. About losing you. About raising a child in this fucked up world. About fucking up.
He did so anyway.
He chose to forget about the whole conversation the two of you had after you told him that you were pregnant and that you were intending to keep it from his mind. Or he tried. God, did he try.
But now, deep in the night, when he was laying awake and alone in bed, only the shadows of the night in his company, the words he spat to hurt you creeped back into his mind, not that they had ever been gone.
I don’t love you.
Get rid of it.
Get out of my life.
I never loved you anyway. 
He could still see the way your face crumbled, tears running down your cheeks. 
He broke you that night. And he broke himself. 
He thought about this last argument, this breakup a lot if he was honest with himself.
He never told you, not in words, how much he loved you. He took you for granted. He shouldn’t have been this surprised to learn that you had left the QZ days after he broke you. 
Not a day went by that he wondered what happened to you.
If you were alive.
If you kept the baby.
Would it have your eyes and his hair?
A boy or a girl?
Where they as stubborn as Sarah was?
Did you still love him as much as he still loved you?
Shaking his head he took a sip from the surprisingly good beer someone had offered him when he came here, his eyes wandering through the room, sneaking glances at Ellie who smiled at Dina, deep in conversation with the other girl.
Sucking his bottom lip in, his hand flexing on his side as he tried to find the courage to walk over to Ellie and ask her if they could talk, again, when he heard laughter behind him.
Laughter he heard before, a long time ago.
A laugh he heard in his dreams when his mind allowed him to dream about you instead of the nightmares that plagued him. 
Narrowing his eyes he tried to remember why he was hearing that laugh, why that voice that spoke in low tones now, made his heart flutter, when he saw Tommy walk towards him in a fast pace, his face worried.
“Joel,” he said but Joel wasn’t listening to him.
He was busy preparing for a breakdown that was creeping slowly into his body. 
Joel’s heart seemed to make the connection before his brain did, heart beating widely in his chest as he slowly turned around, his brother’s hand on his shoulder to keep him for turning. He shrugged it off with a grunt, bracing himself to be let down, that he was finally turning insane and imagining you when his eyes landed on you.
Blinking his eyes in disbelief he released a shaky breath when you were still there. 
You were sitting at one of the picnic tables, still as beautiful as he remembered a small smile on your face. A man had his arm wrapped around your back and in your lap sat a girl not older than five who had your eyes and his brown curls.
His heart stopped, he was sure of it.
“She got in yesterday. You were on patrol, I was trying to find you and tell you but….” Joel heard his brother say, but he ignored him.
You were here.
You were here.
And you were alive.
And you had a girl sitting in your lap that was….
His eyes widened when you leaned back and he saw a little boy sitting in the lap of the man next to you that looked like a mini copy of Joel himself.
His chest felt heavy.
Closing his eyes he tried to take deep breaths, but he just couldn’t.
This was too much.
This hurt too much.
This was the happiest he ever was.
“Joel?” he heard his name from his side, Ellie looking down at him worriedly as he pressed his hand against his chest, his eyes watering.
This was the first time she had talked to him in weeks and it might as well be the last time from the way he felt right now.
He was having a panic attack.
But it felt so much worse than it had ever before.
Looking away from Ellie he turned his head back towards you, finding you now looking at him with wide eyes.
“Deep breaths brother,” a strong arm came to pull him up and his frantic eyes found Tommy’s.
“In and out,” he said, trying to calm down his brother. Joel’s hands grabbed his brothers shoulders. Trying to mimic the way he was breathing but couldn’t.
“Joel?” he heard your voice, his head now turning towards you, finding you looking at him worriedly.
Joel shook his head, dark spots at the corner of his eyes.
“You’re here,” was the last thing he whispered before he passed out.
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wonwoosthetic · 1 year
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Hi, I was wondering if I could get a Joel x reader pre - outbreak maybe they get in a fight and are giving each other the silent treatment .. I know it’s stupid sorry
Cold Brownies
pairing - pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x female!reader
word count - 6.9k (I got a bit carried away😅)
warnings - a bit of jealousy, fighting, mention of an age gap if you squint, and just a quick mention of smut but nothing explicit, but still very domestic and cute and fluffy ˙ᵕ˙
a/n: aaaaaah, my very first piece about Joel Miller hihi 🤗🫣 and your request was anything BUT stupid!!!! thank you so much for the request! 🤍🤍 I hope you enjoy it ˙ᵕ˙ I loved writing this soooo much, I'm such a sucker for domestic pre-outbreak!Joel😭
series masterlist
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2003
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“All I’m asking is that you could maybe tone it down a bit, alright?"
You were making your way to the front of the house, Sarah ahead of the two of you with the keys in her hands, ready to open the door, while you were hot on Joel's tracks.
“What- you want me to be rude to them?” He stopped to turn around and glare at you with confusion written across his face. In his right hand, he carried his daughter's bag from the football match you had just come home from, along with the football in his left hold.
“Jesus Christ, Joel!" You threw your hands up in the air in desperation, hoping to bring some sense into his head after noticing this discussion was not going where you had wanted it to go. "No, not rude! I just don’t need to see you all flirty and cute around the single mothers there!”
“They’re not single, Y/N!”
“That makes it even worse!”
With a huff, he turned back around to continue his way into the house. He threw the bag into the corner of the hallway before walking straight ahead past the living room to enter the kitchen. You followed him, closing the front door behind you with a sigh, shaking your head along with it. 
It had been evident to you that he wouldn't react to your complaint amazingly, but it was still something you had wanted to bring up after noticing the hungry looks of the women standing by the field. It hadn't been the first time today, and you knew it wouldn't be the last time. And you were tired of just being the side-chick of Joel Miller that would come along on Sundays to cheer on your daughter's football team during their match. Because that's what you felt like. His side-chick. Not his wife. At least not in the eyes of the other mothers.
The two of you were usually known for having little to no fights. You had always been good at communicating, but this time it just seemed to hit you a little deeper and a lot harder.
Once you had caught up with him, your eyes found Tommy sitting at the dining table, munching on what was left of your lunch. Sarah had stopped to stand by one of the chairs right next to him to start a conversation, but they were quickly interrupted by Joel and you.
While you stood in the dining room, your arms crossed, staring at his moving form, he poured himself a cup of probably already cold coffee. “Do you seriously have such little faith in me whenever you see me talking to another woman?” He squinted at you.
Your hands found their way to your hair, brushing it out of your face hastily as you tried to clear your head. “No, God… please, it’s not you that I don’t trust-“
“But those women?! Why?! They just want to talk!” At this point, Tommy and Sarah shared a quick glance, immediately recognizing they shouldn't be in the room with you anymore. They quickly stood up and rushed out, leaving you two in the heated argument that filled the room with anger and tension, as well as frustration and pleads.
You could feel your throat starting to close up, but you swallowed it down, hoping it would buy you some time before you would have to let loose of your emotions. “Because I used to be one of those women that ‘just wants to talk to you’!" You mocked his comment, "And look at where I am now!”
“You gotta be kidding me. You can’t have that little trust in others. OR in me.” Why he wasn't hearing you was still a mystery to you. He used to be so good at communicating.
“It's not that!" You argued, "I just know exactly what these women think of when they come up to you a-and don’t even acknowledge me standing next to you." The emotions started showing earlier than you would've liked to. You had to sniffle, catching Joel's attention as his head shot towards you. He sighed.
“They realise you’re right there, they talk to you just as much.” The man had lowered his voice, hoping a softer tone would make the situation easier. But it wasn't the volume of the discussion that was the problem.
You scuffed, “Yeah, to ask me how you’re doing and if you’ve gotten even more handsome over the last week.”
In any other situation, Joel would've smirked at your statement. Hell, you probably would've delivered it with a proud smirk, knowing exactly that yes, he would in fact get more good-looking with each week passing. You had been trying to convince him of his looks ever since you could remember, for a good four years that you had been together, but there was still a wall in front of him that wouldn't accept any compliment that easily. And that made you all that madder because it seemed like receiving complimenting words from the mothers back at the football field affected him more than yours ever did.
Joel clearly had enough of the scene you were playing out,
"This is getting ridiculous." He raised his hands in defence. “It’s alright, we can talk about this later," walking past you once again to walk into the living room, not finding his daughter nor his brother there, making him wonder where they had gone to.
“No, we can’t.” You fought back, following him with your eyes, only taking a few steps into the other room.
After throwing himself onto the cushioned sofa, he put the mug on the coffee table in front of him. With his hands now free, he was able to lean forward, his elbows resting on his knees he rubbed his eyes with his palms. “Y/N, I really can’t do this right now-“
“You don’t wanna talk about it?" You scoffed, "Fine. Then- Then let’s just not. You’re right. Let’s just pretend this never happened, and I’m overreacting because everything’s fucking fine.” Not wasting another second, you moved your body to the stairs leading to the upper floor.
“Darlin'-“
But you stopped him by shouting down.
“Everything’s fine!”
-
Everything was in fact not fine. And every single person in the Miller household could tell. 
The night before, you were able to avoid your partner most of the time. When Sarah had asked if you'd come to the dining table for dinner, you used work as an excuse to stay in the office corner your husband had built in the garage, sitting at the desk, deep in some documents that you could not concentrate on. Not even for a second.
Before Joel had made his way up to bed, you had already taken a shower and cuddled yourself up into the bed, hiding most of your body under the covers. You weren't asleep when he joined you. But you pretended to be. And it worked. For the entire night, the two of you didn't touch each other, not even with your feet by accident - maybe in your sleep, but how would you have been able to tell.
But still in the morning, while both of you were rushing through the kitchen, getting breakfast, coffee and orange juice ready, while also tugging on your clothing and fixing your hair, moving around the room frantically, you didn't share a word with each other. Not a single one. 
Sarah and Tommy eyed you suspiciously from their spots at the dining table. The uncle was slurping on his coffee while the girl had a piece of bacon in her mouth.
"Damn..." the man whispered, receiving a nod from his niece right next to him. "How long has this been going on for?" The silence was something highly unusual for this household. Joel and you were known to be a quite melodic couple. Filling early mornings with chatter and laughter while you tried to brighten up the older man's face, knowing he wasn't the biggest fan of that time of the day. But there you were. Silently moving around each other.
Sarah picked up some eggs with her fork, "Since yesterday. I don't think they've talked through their argument yet," before stuffing her mouth with it.
"You don't say," the man sent her a side-eye, going back to the hot liquid in his mug. "What do you call?" He leaned back.
The girl shrugged, "He did something wrong."
"Well, obviously," Tommy rolled his eyes, "but what?"
"I think it was something about him not realising he's being flirted with and just going along with it because he wants to be nice."
He scoffed, "Idiot..."
"Blind idiot," his niece corrected him, only to get told off by her father.
"Hey," he pointed at her, "Watch your mouth." He didn't have the energy to comment on the other words he had heard coming from them.
Before she was able to say something smart back at him, he continued, "Hurry up eating, I'll be outside in the car." And left the room through the backdoor leading to the garage without another word.
The moment he closed the door, you let out a deep sigh you had held in the entire time the two of you shared a kitchen.
"He'll come back to his senses," the voice of your step-daughter made you walk over to the table, taking a seat in front of your two family members.
The cup of tea in your hands warmed your palm. "I don't know..." you mumbled before bringing the mug up to your lips.
"He's just acting stubborn as fuck," Tommy shook his head.
Sarah gasped, "Don't curse, there are children here." Receiving a subtle chuckle from you.
For a second, you shared a quick moment of silence before you put the mug down, "But am I over-reacting?" You asked them, "Like... am I looking too much into this?" But the shake of their head assured you, making you lean back into the chair with a huff.
"You think I enjoy watching these women gawking over him? It's disgusting. You should be the only one allowed to do that," Sarah explained, tickling a smile out of you.
"Shouldn't you be disgusted by me doing that?"
But she just shrugged, "It's kinda cute," before looking you dead in the eyes, "But don't tell him that."
You chuckled, "I won't. It's not like we're talking to each other these days anyways."
"Look," Tommy had had enough, "Like Sarah said, once Joel gets that stick out of his ass-"
"I never said that."
"Whatever," he jokingly brushed her off, "Once that happens. He'll start apologising. Joel's always been a little oblivious about that stuff. You don’t remember how it was with you?"
"But how?" You wondered, "They're literally undressing him with their eyes!"
"EW, gross!" The young girl exclaimed, making you send her an apologetic smile,
"Sorry..."
"We were taught to be nice and respectful to all kinds of women, Y/N. I don't know what else to tell you," Tommy got up at the sound of his brother's car honking, tapping Sarah on the arm to copy his actions. You watched her disappear back upstairs to grab her backpack while you stood back up to start cleaning the mess that had been left behind from making breakfast.
When you were about to walk past Tommy, his soft grasp on her lower arm stopped you. You looked up to meet his eyes.
"Don't you dare even think that Joel would ever leave you for one of those chicks," he told you quietly, but sternly, "He knows you're way out of his league." His first statement made you smile fondly while the second one made you chuckle and slap his chest.
"Tommy!"
"I'm being serious, Y/N," his hand brushed over the back of your head. He took a few steps back, a smirk still plastered on his lips, "But hey, you know, I still have quite a good amount of friends that would DIE to get to know you."
"Stop it!" You looked around for a cloth to throw at him, doing so once you found a wet one right by the sink. He jumped back, letting it hit the floor, continuing his laughing as he walked towards the back door. "Just saying," he raised his hands, "My brother's an old fuck, you might want to relocate."
You could only shake your head in disbelief, "You're unbelievable, you know that?" Earning yourself a mischievous grin from the younger Miller brother.
You had known Tommy for longer than you had known Joel. You met him at a night out, hitting on one of your friends after you realised that that dude used to be the same guy that had given your parents multiple headaches with that friend group of his in their old restaurant. You remembered them tumbling in some late evenings when you helped out after school, or even just wanted to do your homework in a corner. They pretended to not be drunk, when they definitely were, as best as they could. As much as it annoyed you and your family back then, they did bring a lot of other young people in and within only a few months, you had more visitors than ever. The memory made both of you laugh out loud in the bar and your friendship developed from then on. He even tried setting you up with multiple of his so-called other friends 'that would DIE to get to know you'. But he had failed. HARD. Every single time. His friends were… just not it... 
That‘s because you had met his brother, and well... everything fell into place afterwards, leading to you now standing in the kitchen.
"What did you do now?" Sarah wondered, finding the piece of fabric on the floor, glancing at her uncle with her arms crossed.
You shook your head, "Nothing, don't worry about it. He's just trying to be funny."
She rolled her eyes overdramatically, "Ugh... again?" Getting a soft tap on the head from the man in question.
You sent them off with a smile and a goodbye wave, wishing both a good day as they left you alone in the house. All by yourself, along with your thoughts and worries and a good amount of chores to get done.
-
After Sarah had come back from school, you offered her a serving of the lunch you had prepared on your day off, giving yourself one as well. You sat together by the dining table, chatting about your day while listening to her ranting about her school and her teachers - her English teacher in particular. There was just something she didn't like about that guy.
Before you knew it, the evening had arrived as you got done hoovering the living room, letting yourself fall back into the couch with a heavy breath tumbling from your lips.
The argument from the day before had been haunting you the entire day, draining you of every last bit of energy you had left. You went over everything you had said and all the things you'd want to tell Joel once you were back on speaking terms. And yeah... about that too. How long could the two of you go without talking to each other? You never went longer than a day, so you already broke that record. In all honesty, you didn't want to drag it out for much longer. You hated it. As much as you were still annoyed at your husband and the oblivion he was in, the love and care you felt for him were much stronger than that.
Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the young girl coming down the stairs slowly. You only looked up at the sound of the stairs creaking underneath her feet.
"Mom?" She softly called out for you, staying behind the wall while searching for your eyes in the softly dimmed room. It had already gotten dark outside and the only light in the room came from the small lamp on the side table to your right.
"Hm?"
Sarah looked down at her feet, her fingers drawing circles on the wallpaper, "I-ehm... so..." you patiently waited for her to continue, "You know how we have bake sales every now and then at school?"
You scrunched your eyebrows at the random question, "Of course... why?"
Then a sheepish smile made its way to her face, "Weeelll..."
"Well?"
"I may or may not have a bake sale tomorrow morning and need something for it," she quickly spilt out, only daring to look up at the end of her statement.
Your hands immediately came up to hide your face, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose, "Sarah... please tell me you're kidding."
"No...," she hugged herself shyly, "Sorry..." Coming a few steps closer, she stopped next to you, joining you on the sofa, the sly grin still on her face.
You sighed, looking at her, "You know, you're gonna be the death of me, right?" But she just showed you her teeth with a wide smile.
"Well..." you collected your thoughts, "Your dad has the car... and if I go to the store now, it'll be closed when I arrive. So... let's see if Tommy can go get some stuff because we have absolutely nothing in this house." You leaned over to reach for your phone that was laying on top of the coffee table.
"No!" The girl beat you and got a hold of your phone first, holding it tightly to her chest.
You looked at her in confusion, "What?"
"Eh... I- Why uncle Tommy? Dad should be on his way back from work now. It'll be way more practical if he buys it."
With a sigh and a nod, you gave in, "Well then, go on. Call him." But she shook her head. Her hand reached out to hand you back the device.
"Why not?" You wondered, slightly worried about the way she was acting.
"...I don't want him to be mad at me." You wanted to say something, but she continued, "If you call him, he won't get mad."
"Sarah..." another sigh of yours rang through your ears as you blinked at her. But she defeated you. With those goddamn puppy eyes, she inherited from her father, that neither you nor Joel could say no to - you more than him usually, but you were in a vulnerable place, so giving in came easily.
"Pleeaase, mom." The small word still brought a smile to your face - she knew exactly how to get you. You may not have been there her entire life, but for a good important chunk of it, and she appreciated that very much. It was on your wedding day when she asked you if she could call you 'mom' from now on. And it made you cry right at that exact moment.
You snatched the phone out of her hands and shook your head with a soft smile on your lips. She knew just how cute she was. After all, she was a very smart little girl.
You got up from the sofa and made your way over to the kitchen, already clicking on the number you had gotten so familiar with. Only two rings later, the deep voice of your partner erupted,
"Hey, everything okay?" You almost smiled at the concern in his voice. He knew you rarely ever called but prefered to send quick texts.
You scratched the back of your neck, "Hi, yeah... ehm... where are you?"
"Just got into the truck, why?"
"So... Sarah just remembered that she has a bake sale tomorrow," you explained, already hearing the deep sigh, along with a cruse word, coming from him, "But I can't make it to the store in-"
"What do you wanna bake, darlin'? What do you need?" You didn't ignore the way your body reacted to the nickname. You couldn't just let it pass like that. Even after all the years of being with him, his sweet tongue still made you feel like a little college girl. The heat rose up to your cheeks, painting them beautifully red as you ushered around the kitchen.
"Eh... wait a second," you opened the refrigerator, "We have eggs, we... don't have butter, so butter. We should have some flour and sugar. But we'd definitely need chocolate or-"
"What about a brownie mix?"
You perked up, "You really want to send your daughter to a baking sale with brownies from a pre-made mix?"
"Why not," he probably shrugged, "I can guarantee you, sweetheart, no one cares," the engine of the car roared in the background.
Unknowingly, your eyes drifted over the counter to the corner where a picture of the three of you was placed. Taken by Tommy, it showed you and Joel hugging the sweet girl in the middle while her face was covered in cake frosting. It was your, back then, boyfriend's idea to make her laugh, and boy, did he accomplish that. The echoes of her high-pitched giggles still roamed your brain as you were brought back to the day of her birthday party when she had turned 11 years old. Already then, the older Miller brother knew he was going to ask you to marry him one day. Never ever had either one of you been that happy when with another person.
That's when the memory of his proposal speech came back to you. Joel was a big romantic. Whether he wanted to admit it or not. But his plans of the original proposal were thrown out the window when a massive storm surprised the entire city, forcing you to stay inside the comfort of your own home.
Since Sarah was over at Tommy's place after the older man had begged him to do so, you had the house to yourself and you better bet, you made the best out of it. After multiple rounds in each other's embrace, exchanging passion and lust for each other, you found yourself in your bed, on his lap, still not tired of kissing the hell out of him. You were surprised when he stopped you for a second with,
"I have something to ask you," whispering it against your mouth before he leaned back to stretch his arm to get whatever he was looking for out of the drawer of his nightstand. You eyed him suspiciously, your fingers still intertwined behind his neck. You could feel your heart genuinely stop for a second or two when your gaze got stuck on the small red velvet box.
"Joel..." The topic of marriage had come up before, of course. But only because he wanted to make sure that the two of you were on the same page, and after doing that, he just had to find the right time to find a ring and actually propose.
He lifted a hand to stop you, "Just wait. Just for a minute," interlocking your eyes with his as he breathed out, "I had this whole thing planned," he shook his head, "I wanted it to be much more romantic than this. But God... I-I can't wait anymore."
Once his actual speech started, you couldn't help the tears in your eyes to well up. You had heard him say 'I love you' so many times before, but that love confession of his was something you had never ever received before. You felt safe with him. Loved, like no one else. How could you have said no? You knew he was the one for you. The one whose arms you wanted to fall asleep in for the rest of your life, only to wake up in a completely different position due to his restless sleeping habit. You wanted to forever hear Sarah remind him of his terrible eating habits, joining forces with her by making him drink more orange juice. You didn't even think you could live without Tommy barging into the house at the most inconvenient times, disturbing any romantic moment you'd get with your partner. That was the future you so desperately prayed for. And now you were finally going to get it.
You snapped back into the present.
"Have we really become those parents?" A soft chuckle dared to escape your lips, but Joel stole it.
"It had to happen someday."
-
Forty minutes later, the front door opened, making you look up to the left, only to direct your eyes back on the TV as soon his met yours.
"Hey," he talked quietly, finding Sarah asleep in your lap as he passed you.
"Hi," you greeted him back, the tension suddenly thick in the room. You followed him into the kitchen, careful about putting your daughter's head down gently.
You stopped by the fridge, leaning on it, your gaze travelling along with his moving figure while he put away the groceries he had just bought. Even though you were still not in the mood of talking to him, the words from yesterday still lingering with you, you decided to swallow at least a little bit of your pride.
"Thank you," you cleared your throat softly, "for... getting the stuff." He turned his entire body to look at you, eyes slightly wider than usual, sending you a somewhat subtle surprised facial expression.
"‘Course," he nodded.
"Well then... I'll..." Jesus, when did talking become so hard, "I'll let Sarah know we can start."
Just as you were about to walk back into the living room, the voice of your husband took you back, "No, let her sleep."
You moved towards him, "But she needs them for tomorrow, we-"
"I'll do it. I'll make the brownies," he sighed, finishing putting everything away, and leaving the few ingredients he'd need on the counter.
"Joel, no... that's her responsibility," you ignored his body coming towards you as you tried not to raise your voice, keeping it low since the girl was still asleep. 
He placed his hands on your shoulders, only to turn you with a gentle touch, making you face the living room, attention immediately on the little girl. A few seconds of silence passed.
"Look at her," the man whispered into your ear, too close for the current tension that was still between you, "You really want to wake her up?"
You shrugged out of his grasp, "Don't make me the bad guy now," brushing past him into the kitchen.
Joel huffed out a deep breath, slightly shaking his head, "I'll get her upstairs." He didn't wait for a response from you, knowing he wouldn't get one anyway and walked over to pick his daughter up into his arms, carrying her upstairs into her bedroom.
In the meantime, you decided to get to work, reading the instructions on the brownie-mix packaging. You preheated the oven and made sure the eggs weren't too cold before looking for the fitting bowl, which wasn't where it was supposed to be. A sigh fell from your lips. Joel had a habit of putting stuff into new places and not where you had insisted they should be.
"In the cupboard next to the dishwasher," his deep voice suddenly spoke up from behind you, "I forgot where you usually put it."
With a quiet, almost silent 'thanks' you went to grab it before putting it next to the rest of the stuff. Joel was next to you within the blink of an eye, taking the bowl from your grasp.
"I can-"
"Let me," he softly argued back, bringing the eggs closer to him before starting by opening up the brownie mix and pouring the powder into the bowl.
"Joel-" you wanted to talk back, but his hand on top of yours on the counter stopped you,
"I wanna help," he gazed down at you, while you had to look up to meet his eye. It only lasted for a second, before you moved again, on the look for the next thing you'd need: a brownie baking dish. Thankfully, it was where you remembered you had put it.
The two of you worked separately from each other. You, just as much as Joel, were still very aware of the weight on both of your shoulders. The argument was still undiscussed and it was weighing you down. Both of you. The only interaction you shared was putting the baking tin in front of him to pour the batter in.
After you shoved it into the oven, with a quiet "careful" from your partner as he opened the oven door for you, there was no longer any sound that accompanied the silence between you two. Now it was just true stillness. No clinker, no whisk hitting the bowl, or anything else.
Neither one of you wanted to be in this position as you stood opposite of each other, each leaning back on the counter. You wanted to scream to break the tension. Thankfully, Joel took the lead.
"Darlin'," still that soft tone lacing his voice, "I'm-"
"No, Joel-"
"Please," he looked up at you, hoping to meet your eyes, only for you to find the same ones that had begged for you to call him your husband. The same puppy-eyed look. "May I?" He was so gentle, just how you knew him. You nodded, followed by crossing your arms in front of your stomach.
"I'm sorry." He spoke honestly, standing up straighter, "I'm sorry for what I said and... I'm sorry for being a blind idiot."
Your eyes fell down to your feet, running your toes along the wood as a smile crept its way onto your face at the mention of Sarah's choice of words.
"You're not an idiot," the sudden sound of your voice reaching his ear made him take a deep breath. You looked back up at him. "Maybe blind, but not an idiot."
But he shook his head, "No, I am." He started playing with his hands, "But can you blame me?" The scrunch of your eyebrows in confusion made him continue, "For four years, my eyes have only been on you. All I care about is you. And Sarah, of course," he added quickly, making you grin. He smiled at the sight, daring to take a step closer to you, noticing you warming up at his words, "I could not give less of a fuck about those other women. You're the only one that has been occupying my mind. I promise you that." They were small steps, but soon enough, he stopped right in front of you, keeping one foot between you two, and meeting your glassy eyes with his soft ones. "I haven't had to flirt with anyone in forever. How am I supposed to notice it then, when someone else is doing it to me? Especially, when it's not my wife. I don't care. I might continue being nice because that's just the human thing to do, but God... I..." he took a deep breath, taking that last step to be all that much closer to you. He trapped you in between his arms, resting his palms against the counter on either side of you. His left hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumbs gently moving against your skin. "I only have eyes for the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And I, the lucky bastard that I am, got to marry her." He caught the tear falling from your eye, leaning forward to kiss the wet stain before it could roll down your cheek. But his action just brought more tears into your eyes as your brain ran through the words you had just heard. You couldn't hold back a sniffle.
"Don't make me cry," you tried to free yourself from his grasp, bringing your hands to your face, trying to hide your weeping face from your husband, but he was having none of that, immediately getting a hold of your hands and pulling them down.
"I'm sorry, Gorgeous," Joel replaced your hands with his, wiping away every falling tear while gazing lovingly at you, catching your eyes never leaving his face.
You sniffled again, "I'm sorry, Joel." Both of his hands held onto your face. "I... I trust you with my life, I really do," you tried to speak through your tears, making the corners of his lips curl up, "B-But those women... at the match-"
"It's okay," he leaned forward once again, peppering your cheeks with gentle kisses over and over again, while a small smile appeared on your face at the feeling of his close touch again. "I get it," he kept on holding onto your face, making sure you kept your eyes on him, "I don't trust other men either. I know you're way too good for me. I'm a blind idiot that doesn't deserve you."
You started giggling as you hit his chest, "Stop, no," sniffling one last time when the tears had stopped falling from your eyes.
"No, I am. I realise that now," he assured you, shaking his head, "Jesus... I had to listen to Sarah calling me that like... a dozen times. And that was just on the way to school. Plus I got a big fat scolding from Tommy. He threatened to hook you up with his friends." Joel followed you with laughter after you erupted in giggles from his story, your forehead falling to his chest while your arms came up around his lower torso as his wrapped around your shoulders, keeping you to him as tightly as he possibly could, breathing in the beautiful scent of your hair.
You decided to enjoy a few moments of comfortable silence, staying engulfed in each other's arms before you leaned back a bit to lift your head, making him look down at you. The same smile on his face as it was present on yours.
"No one could ever replace you," you assured him. In the next moment, not giving your husband any time to react, you stood up on your tippy toes and puckered your lips, indicating for him to lean down, which he did without even thinking for a second. It was a natural reaction.
You only gifted him a quick peck before pulling back again.
"I love you, Joel." Followed by another quick kiss.
"I love you so much more, darlin'," he spoke against your lips, his finger tracing down the side of your face.
You squinted your eyes at him, "Mmmm... I don't think that's possible." Your comment made his eyebrows shoot up, "Oh?" He teased you, "You want me to show you that it is in fact possible?"
The not-so-subtle blush was evident on your cheeks as you pressed your lips together, "You know I'd never say no to getting dicked down."
Joel wanted to grin, SO BADLY. But he kept up his act, just staring down at you in confusion. "Getting dicked down? The hell you talkin' about, woman?" Unknowingly, the two of you started gently swaying side to side as he looked around the room, "I was thinkin' 'bout making you a nice dinner, a bit of cuddlin' maybe-"
You pinched his side, getting his attention back to you. He glanced at you with a wicked smile decorating his face. He leaned down closer to you, stopping just as your lips were about to touch, "But I can work with your idea as well.“
-
You were first down in the kitchen the following morning. Dressed and styled for work, with a pleased look never leaving your face. You felt good again. The invisible weight had clearly been lifted off you as you swiftly moved through the kitchen. The smell of pancakes filled the room when the cute familiar voice of your daughter made you turn around.
"Mornin'."
You smiled as she walked up to you, hugging your side, hiding her still sleepy face in your shoulder, "Good morning, sweetie," you patted her unruly, yet beautiful curly hair. 
She went to grab her beloved orange juice from the fridge before settling down at the dining table just like every other morning. Finally, a normal morning again. A comfortable small talk erupted between the two of you as you asked her about the school day she had ahead of herself.
In the middle of it, you brought a plate of pancakes to her, placing it right under her nose, along with a fork and the maple syrup she enjoyed so much. As soon as your back was turned towards her, eyes on the other pancakes sizzling in the pan, the third and final person in the house came down the stairs. You would be able to recognize those heavy footsteps from a mile away.
Joel greeted his daughter first, kissing the top of her head, "Mornin', baby girl." Before he joined you next to the stove, his arm immediately wrapping around you, to turn you towards him, "And a good mornin' to you too, gorgeous," smashing his lips onto yours. Your hand found its way to his cheek while his stopped at your ass.
"Children are present!" Making you lean back with a chuckle, slapping his hand to move from his position.
He turned around to jokingly glare at the girl, "Look away!" To which she just rolled her eyes.
Joel brought you back into his arms, giving you a few more kisses before getting interrupted another time, making him groan and you giggle.
"Oooooooh, well don't you two look adorable!" The younger Miller brother exclaimed, entering the house with a wide smile plastered on his face. He took his signature seat next to Sarah, stelling a piece of pancake from her, "Mom and dad getting along again?"
She nodded, "Looks like it."
Your husband wanted to get one more kiss from you, but a plate being shoved into his chest stopped him. He looked down before gazing into your eyes again, "Chocolate chip?"
"Blueberry." Your answer made him look at you with scrunched eyebrows. "Vitamin C," you grinned, giving his cheek one last peck before ushering him out of the kitchen.
You watched the three sitting at the table, smiling at the little family in front of you when you remembered something.
"Oh!" You moved back into the kitchen, snatching the Tupperware box from the counter, and bringing it into the dining room with you. "Here, sweetie, don't forget these."
"Ah, thanks, mom," she smiled at you, taking the box and placing it right next to her.
Tommy eyed the box, "What's that?"
"Brownies," you simply answered, taking a seat on the only other free chair, "We baked them for her last night."
"What are you celebrating?" His question was directed at his niece but you answered him.
"Nothing, her school's having a bake sale." Joel nudged your arm, his fork right in front of you, waiting for you to open your mouth, so he could feed you a piece of his pancakes. You knew better than to say no, remembering all the times you had tried to do that and he'd basically won and made you take the food in one way or another.
The younger brother glanced at you in question, "No, she doesn't?"
"Yes, she does, she forgot and told me yesterday."
But he just shook his head again, taking a quick look at his niece, "No, you don't. I know whenever those bake sales are." As soon as he saw the looks on your and Joel's faces, he quickly continued, "All the pretty teachers are outside during them, and I... you know... just happen to be there coincidentally. Buying them all that stuff from those kids."
You closed your eyes in disbelief, shaking your head, "Jesus..."
The older brother shrugged, "Can't say I'm surprised about that."
Tommy moved his attention towards Sarah again, "So what the heck were you talking about?"
All eyes were on the little girl, giggling in her seat as she leaned back in the chair, the curls on her head bouncing along with her laughs. "Yeah... so ehm... maybe that was a bit of a lie," sending you a sheepish smile.
"What?!" You exclaimed, switching between looking at her and your partner to your right.
She immediately raised her hands, "But you two are talking again!"
"What does that have to do-"
"OOOOOH," Tommy shot up from his seat, engulfing his niece in a tight hug, "You smart little girl, oh I love you," kissing the top of your head multiple times. All while Joel and you sat there, at least sharing the confusion between each other.
Your husband put his fork down, "Are we morons? What am I not getting here?"
His brother grinned at him, walking past him to slap the back of his head, "Your amazing daughter tricked the two of you into talking to each other again," he sang and stopped to stand in between the two of you, throwing his arms around you, pulling you in close, "She got all that smartness from me."
"Sarah!" You couldn't believe your ears. That little 13-year-old girl... you knew she was smart... but damn... Where did she learn how to read people that well?
She smiled, standing up to bring her plate into the kitchen, "It worked though!" 
Tommy released you to follow her, finally looking for his mug to get his morning cup of coffee.
The two of you stayed seated, still in disbelief at what you had just found out. You got tricked. Tricked you into putting your guard down and giving into the sweet mouth of your husband. She knows both of you too well.
"That's your kid," you pointed at the girl by the dishwasher while looking at Joel, who grinned at you, his hand now on your thigh.
His other hand wrapped around your finger, pushing it down and pulling you into him. "That's our kid. Our very smart kid," he smiled against your lips, making you do so as well before the soft touch of his mouth against yours sent a tingle through your body once again. You could never get tired of that, that was for sure.
There was the future you had always dreamed of.
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joel taglist: @corvusmorte
pedro taglist: @leslieelainetrask
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avatar-anna · 5 months
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Assistant! Reader x Harry Styles Masterlist
April 2016
“Thank you for meeting me.”
Y/n settled into the seat across from Harry. Her hands curled tightly around her mug, apprehension seeping into her bones. “Of course.”
She had been surprised when Harry called her, asking to meet at the Beachwood Cafe. She hadn’t heard from him in months, not one call or text, not even an email. Not that Y/n really expected much when One Direction finally went on hiatus, but after zero communication, she wasn’t quite sure why he’d called her all these months later. 
“How are you? I haven’t seen you in ages,” Harry asked.
Y/n’s eyebrows raised a bit, but she answered him anyway after taking a sip of her coffee. “Fine, I guess. You?”
“Good!” Harry said excitedly. “Taking a break the last few months has been…I don’t know. Peaceful, but odd, you know? I’ve never had so much time to myself before.”
“Must be nice,” Y/n said, trying to hide the irritation in her voice.
“Yeah, but I realized that I kind of miss it,” he said. “I knew once we decided on the hiatus that I wanted to do my own thing, but I thought I would take a longer break, but I feel like I’m…itching to get back to work.”
That definitely seemed like Harry. Y/n had worked for him for years, and even when there were breaks between tours, he was hard at work—writing, going to Fashion Week, collaborating with other artists, vocal training, even trying new recipes in his state-of-the-art kitchen, which led to a phone call at one in the morning where Harry asked Y/n to come over and see if his macrons tasted "fluffy enough." It seemed only right that he rested for mere months before starting a new project. She could practically picture him at either of his homes in LA or London, scribbling in his leatherbound journal or playing new melodies on his guitar or piano (and the occasional late-night pastry party). As long as she’d known him, Harry had been a hard worker through and through. A little on the wild side when he had some tequila in him, but when it came down to his career, he was focused, determined. 
“Good for you,” Y/n said, meaning it. She always thought he was capable of more. “So what comes next for you? Have you recorded songs already?”
“Not quite. I’m planning a trip to Jamaica to write and record there. It’s remote, serene, a good place to get away. So we’ll have to start booking flights and places to stay and—”
“I’m sorry, ‘We?’” Y/n asked, her brow furrowing with confusion. 
Harry matched her look of confusion with one of his own. “Yeah, I mean—I need you. I can’t do this without you.”
The sentiment warmed Y/n’s heart for a moment, but his immediate assumption that she would drop everything just because he asked her to brought the irritation swarming back. “Mr. Sty—Harry, you know I don’t work for you anymore, right?”
“What do you mean? Are you talking about the hiatus? I just thought we could all use some time off, but…I guess I just thought—”
Harry didn’t finish his thought, but his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. Y/n would’ve found it cute if he hadn’t been so dense. Resentment still circled around her like a fog, and she wouldn’t let it go so easily, she couldn’t. 
“I was employed by your management, Harry. To be an assistant to a member of One Direction,” Y/n explained. “I was let go. I had to quickly find another job doing something else.”
“Oh.”
Y/n supposed she should’ve anticipated being fired, but she didn’t. There was a lot of information that she was privy to that most people weren’t, secrets that were tightly bound by an NDA when she was first hired, but talks of the hiatus was very hushed. She knew to suspect that somewhere down the line the boys would finally take a break, but it came a lot sooner than she was prepared for, and she was left jobless before she had the chance to line something else up. Y/n thought that Harry would give her the courtesy of a warning, but he said nothing about it to her, didn’t offer much except a side hug after One Direction’s last performance.
So yeah, she was a little bitter.
“I’m—I’m really sorry, Y/n. I know it doesn’t make up for…all of this and everything you went through, but I am truly sorry.”
“Thank you.” 
Y/n believed him, believed that he was sorry for everything that went down, but it still hurt to know she wasn’t someone he was close enough to talk to about all of this at the time. She was Harry’s assistant, she knew that, but they’d been through a lot together. But he was ever the professional it seemed, and it was her job to remember that, not his.
When she realized her coffee was finished, Y/n stood up. “Well, it was good seeing you, Harry. Good luck on your next project. I’m sure it’ll be great.”
“Wait, but—you’re not—you‘re leaving?”
“I have to run a couple errands before work," Y/n explained. She rested her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “But really, no hard feelings. I wish you all the best.”
She left Harry at the table, heading for the front of the cafe and toward the busy street beyond. Her heart felt heavy as she walked away, but she tried to shake the feeling that she was walking away from more than just her boss. Former boss. Like her mother always reminded her, she couldn’t be a personal assistant forever.
“Wait!”
Y/n turned on instinct, eyes widening as Harry jogged after her, his little bun bouncing with each step. He skidded to a stop in front of her, green eyes wide and searching. For what, she wasn’t sure, but the heat of his gaze was enough to make butterflies stir in her stomach.
Putting on her best front, she raised her eyebrows, waiting for Harry to say whatever he needed to.
“I wasn’t kidding earlier. I need you, Y/n,” he said. “I—You’re the only one who really knows me, who I know will have my back no matter what. I need a familiar face in my corner.”
I need you, Y/n. Those words were her kryptonite. Year after year, Y/n heard Harry's voice over the phone as he roused her from sleep, read the text messages while she was getting her nails done or watched TV in her hotel room, or on the rare occasion she went on a date. But she had to hold strong. Y/n had been devastated by her sudden layoff, but now she had a life, and she didn't want to get sucked back into Harry's very alluring web of charming smiles, cheesy jokes, and endless adventure. That was his life, not hers.
“I have a job, Harry. I can’t just drop everything and quit because you suddenly want me to—”
“What are they paying you?”
Y/n’s brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”
Harry pushed on. “What are they paying you? I’ll double it.”
Scoffing in disbelief, she said, “It’s not about the money—”
“Triple,” he countered. Harry took her hand in his and squeezed it. He looks desperate, Y/n thought.
“I can’t just quit my job because you remembered I existed,” Y/n said quietly, pulling her hand out of his. She clung to her resolve, hoping Harry would make this easy and just let it go, let her go. “I—I deserve more.”
More of what, she wasn’t sure, but Y/n knew it was true. Harry only reached out because he needed something from her, and that hurt more than she cared to admit. 
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Harry said, looking down at his shoes. A pair of scuffed Chelsea boots he wore practically everywhere. Y/n had bought him a pair of Vans one year, an attempt to switch up his wardrobe, but he still chose the boots nine times out of ten. “Just—At least think about coming to Jamaica. Please?”
“Harry—”
“Not as my assistant. As a guest. A friend,” Harry amended. “We’re planning on staying at a huge villa, and I want to make up for being an idiot. Just—Just think about it. Please.”
Despite everything, Y/n found herself wanting to say yes. It was that magnetic pull she felt toward Harry that had kept her working for him for so long. He was an important person in her life, and up until he’d all but ghosted her after the hiatus, she thought she was important to him too. In spite of his misgivings, Y/n still wanted to believe that she was. 
It was so stupid, but it felt good to be wanted by him. She was an idiot, she knew that. But her friendship with Harry was legitimate, he'd just acted like a complete idiot. She'd known him long enough to know he was very capable of acting like an idiot. So even though she shouldn’t, even though she had carefully lined up her reasons not to in a little line, she started to cave. 
But she couldn’t make the decision now. Not when Harry was looking at her with pleading green eyes and his sad little puppy dog face, his cologne dizzyingly lovely. No, she owed it to herself to really think about what she wanted. If getting sucked back into that whirlwind was worth it. Worth getting her heart properly broken when she knew he would never feel the same about her.
"I'll show up at work, you know," Harry said. "I'm not above it. You might think I am, but I'm not."
Y/n had no doubt in her mind that he would. Along with being an idiot, Harry was very stubborn, and very persistent. She had years with him to know that. Did she really need Harry Styles showing up at her place of work?
“Fine, I’ll think about it,” she finally said, trying to pretend like her heart was screaming to just agree. But her heart was an impulsive little shit that was bound to get her in trouble.
Harry’s face broke out into a wide grin, one that displayed those famous dimples and lit up his entire face. It was hard to feel like he didn't think she was the only person on earth to exist when he looked like that, like he was convinced she’d already said yes. “I’ll take it.”
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so-mordor-itis · 1 year
Text
Through Her Eyes
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Synopsis: Ada observes you and Leon as you trek through the village and castle of Los Illuminados, only to realize he wasn't her little loyal pup anymore.
A/N: I wanted to try something different! I saw a lot of people writing jealous reader or jealous Leon, but I was like "No one has done an Ada POV yet, I could give it a shot. I might do a part 2 with the rest of the game if you guys would like!
Read the sequel here!
Taglist:
@izuniias , @spookluckpuck , @uhlunaro , @inaflashimagine , @amatxs , @aussiepineapple1st , @honeysoakedbandages , @boundinparchment , @tosuckmyweenis , @airanke
It was interesting, watching you two communicate. Leon had this way of shrugging his shoulders whenever he spoke, sometimes tossing his arms into the air to somehow solidify his point. You, on the other hand, were a bit carefree with your body language, Ada noticed. Quite the opposite to your companion. Perhaps it was because you were more comfortable with him, maybe you have worked with him for a longer time than she estimated. You two were discussing a plan, but Ada couldn’t get the absolute details. If she did, she would’ve most likely been seen–at least heard. The environment was rough and rocky, full of sticks and branches that easily could be broken or snagged against her outfit. She knew better.
Though she did catch a brief moment with you two when she was forced to get closer–she had grabbed her binoculars to observe some of the villagers ahead, they were carrying pitchforks and axes, glancing around like mindless dogs. How cute, such obedient little pups.
“We could split up, maybe we’d find Ashley easier that way.” You suggested, maybe adding a shrug of your own shoulders.
“No, I don’t think splitting up would be the best idea,” Leon said instantly. Ada felt her chest coil at the sound of his voice. It was deeper now, more scratchy, rugged. He had definitely seen more than what he was forced to at Raccoon City. She figured that would be the case, now being the President’s little weapon, being kept under his nose for his every beck and call. Wesker made sure to do some research on him, in case he would be a nuisance in the process of delivering the amber. You, on the other hand, were a new, unexpected addition. Perhaps another lackey the President kept hidden. But Ada couldn’t help wondering why only two people? The President’s daughter was taken here, wasn’t she? She would’ve thought Daddy would come to collect his little girl as soon as he could with an army of men at the ready. Or, he’s truly that worried for his image and was desperate to keep this under wraps because of what was at this location.
“Stuck to me like glue, huh?” You quipped. Ada heard Leon scoff, the sound of a gun being reloaded echoed throughout the area.
“I’d rather you be here than in the dirt somewhere I can’t see.” Protective, she noted. Interesting. You two must’ve been friends, at least. Then again, what did she know? He could’ve been like this with a lot of people. He definitely had a habit of being friendly, of asking questions.
“Hunnigan said the path to the lake was beyond a windmill, right? Then I guess that’s our destination.”
Ada cursed under her breath before launching herself off the roof of one of the houses. She would’ve been out in the open, easily spotted. She hunched over a barrel, checking her own guns. A few bullets had been used earlier when she rang the church bell. She didn’t know what compelled her to come back to the village area, but she found herself here, observing. Too late to complain now, the damage was done. She would book it for a different direction the moment you two were out of sight.
She poked her head out slightly, watching as your shadows came into view and then your figures. She had stopped paying attention to what you two were talking about, that wasn’t in her job description. Though she couldn’t help eyeing Leon for a second longer. His physique had certainly changed, too. He had more muscle, his eyes were tired, small gray circles under them. You were trailing behind him, holding your pistol with a tight grip. Ada noticed your eyes darting back and forth, now extremely cautious. From what she could note, you were the observer type and she had to be extra alert for anything that could cause a sound.
“Wait,” you said, stopping in your tracks. “There’s a path up ahead.” You started trekking towards it, footsteps were heavy with movement. You were in a hurry. Leon seemed to be startled slightly but quickly followed suit. Ada felt a smirk forming on her lips. He was following you so fast, like a lost puppy, just as he did with her. You had him wrapped around your finger and didn’t even realize it. Ada was convinced if Leon had a tail, it would surely be wagging. He was under your spell.
“Still a good boy, huh Leon?” Ada murmured to herself.
After saving Leon from nearly being crushed to death by a taller man–Luis called him the ‘big cheese’ of the village–Ada had lost track of you two by the time night fell across the village. This was good. It allowed her to carry through with the delivery of the amber with no trouble. No more distractions.
At least, until Luis found himself caught in between two messes.
From a rock, Ada discovered what seemed to be a battle for survival in a nearby, abandoned house. She noticed your figure and then Leon’s, and then her little carrier pigeon. You three were scrambling around one another, fighting off Gnado after Gnado, scraping by with the skin of your teeth. Ah, she would’ve helped, surely, but she had bigger priorities. She knew Luis could handle himself and if it truly was time for her to rescue someone she’d do what she needed to. She had at least one grenade she could spare if she truly had to.
It wasn’t necessary, you three pulled through somehow. Ada had told Leon he had some unique version of dumb luck, and it seemed it still carried through.
Luis found her later, desperate to catch his breath. She reminded him of the deal, of the amber. He was annoyed, clearly, but he knew what he had to do.
Once Ada arrived at the castle, she started to notice some little attributes of you and Leon. The both of you were a good team–you have saved him countless times, pulling him towards you when an axe was about to slice his throat, shooting over his shoulder when he couldn’t see an enemy. Ada had to admit you were skilled, and it was no wonder you two were there to protect little Miss Graham. The girl was petrified of the whole thing. She reminded Ada of a doe-eyed lamb, sheltered from the dangers of the world until only recently.
Before Ada encountered Leon in the castle, she had accidentally found you two–not three, the girl must’ve been taken away, the two of you probably running yourselves ragged trying to retrieve her again. Ada quickly hid in a spot she knew she wouldn’t be found. You had requested Leon stop for a second, sliding down the wall of a hallway to catch your breath.
“You alright?” Leon asked softly.
“Just peachy,” you snapped, gritting your teeth once first aid spray hit raw skin. You had an open wound, skin sliced open, red flowing to the floor. “Sorry, it just hurts like hell.”
“No, I get it,” Leon said he didn’t have much on him but guns and some herbs, but Ada watched as he grabbed a tablecloth from one of the stands. “Surely they wouldn’t mind if we borrow this?”
You looked at him with big eyes full of gentleness and wonder, of awe and inspiration, the same way he had to her, and she realized that it wasn’t just Leon that was under a spell. Though you immediately hardened your gaze when you realized he was now looking at you.
“There, that should hold you. For a while, I’d hope. Wouldn’t want you to bleed on their fancy carpet.”
“Oh, the horror.” You feigned concern.
Did you two even realize you were flirting? Did you even realize that when you were scourging through your bag, Leon had a softer look on his face? Was watching you with such intent, with such curiosity?
Ada sighed, loading her pistol. She wouldn’t be able to drag him with her this time, but that was fine.
She could find some other way.
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heavenlyvision · 7 months
Text
Until hell freezes over
Word count: 6.7k
Pairing: Bi-Han x F!Reader
This is a part two to when hell freezes over
A/N: Longest fic so far woohoo, I’m overjoyed at the interactions and comments I got from the first part so thank you for the attention. I’m glad you’ve all been enjoying my writing; it encourages me to write more! I hope you all enjoy this part as much as the first and please reach out with any thoughts, feelings, questions, anything of the sort. I am happy to interact with everyone. And thank you for reading! :)
Summary: Ever since you and Bi-Han had sex he’s been staring at you even more than before, not that he’s admitted to it yet. A competition begins between the two of you, who can hold out longest?
Warnings: 18+ only, smut, cunnilingus, fingering, masturbation, p in v sex, creampie, possessive!Bi-Han, hickeys (reader receiving), pussy slapping (one), inappropriate use of Bi-Hans official title, minor appearance of pussy drunk Bi-Han, return of mean Bi-Han, special appearance of soft Bi-Han, no use of y/n
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Following the events of the other night, Bi-Han has been staring at you a lot more frequently. You can’t be certain what he’s thinking about, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. You had both mutually agreed to keep what happened between yourselves, but he keeps giving you bedroom eyes and it isn’t going to take long for someone to catch on if he keeps looking at you like that.
Subtlety does not seem to be Bi-Han’s strong suit, which you feel is cosmically ironic considering how subtle he is in other facets of his life. His eyes set you on fire, you know what he wants from you. You haven’t slept with him since the first time, three days ago now.
The reason for this is because you needed time to recover from the world class fucking you received the first time and because you want to get to know him more; by actually talking to him. Not that, that stops him from shoving you up against walls and sticking his tongue in your mouth when he gets the chance. Just the memories of his indiscretions make you vibrate with arousal.
Other than those few shared, private moments, he’s respected the fact that you don’t want to have sex again yet. He is getting impatient though, you can tell by the way his constant staring has gotten more intense. His eyes track your every move when you’re close to him, sometimes it seems like he’s actively fighting the urge to pick you up and walk away with you over his shoulder.
Everyone is in the training area right now, and Bi-Han is standing by Lord Liu Kang, and yup, he is staring at you, again. You really can’t be shocked anymore; you’ve come to realise that the most he communicates is with his eyes and his grunts.
Lord Liu Kang steps away from Bi-Han to talk with Kuai Liang on the other side of the training area, you take the opening to slowly shuffle yourself up next to Bi-Han.
“You need to stop looking at me like that,” you say quietly, keeping your head forward.
“Looking at you like what?”
You have to try real hard not to make a face of annoyance at him. He always does this, acts dense on purpose just to get under your skin.
“Like we’ve had sex,” you hush out at him.
He moves to stand directly in front of you and tilting his head down slightly he says, “That is a little difficult, considering we have had sex, sweet girl.”
He’s taunting you, it’s not fair, the nickname, his words, it’s all not fair to you and he knows it. It’s why he does it, he wants you to break first, to beg him for it, and as the days pass by, you’re worried you will cave and beg him to fuck you. And he is counting on it, it’s probably part of the reason why he pushes you up against walls and kisses your breath away. You get the feeling that the man has an impeccable resolve, which makes you want to break it. It’s turned into an unspoken competition between the two of you.
“You aren’t being very fair,” you try not to, but you can’t help but pout at him.
His eyes sparkle as he looks at your sulking face, “I’m not trying to be fair,”
Bastard, you go to tell him as much, but he cuts you off, “I am trying to get you to ask me for what you need, I want you to ask me sweetly to fuck you.”
He has said you undo him, but he is actively pulling you apart, he wants you at his feet and you’re afraid that you might comply. You are strong, you can resist him, you just have to want to win more than him and you are competitive. You’ve decided you’re going to turn his constant stares and teasing into determination. You are determined to win, you want him coming to you, head in his hands asking you for your body.
He can see the way your eyes harden with your own resolve and his light up in an amused way at it, you find it maddening that he’s getting joy from this.
“You will not be winning this, Grandmaster.” You say his title to stab home your determination, you want him to know that he is the one who turned this into a challenge. One that you aren’t willing to lose.
The use of his official title is effective, his smile falters for a second, a glimmer or his underlying arousal for you shining through his mirth. Good, you think.
“Mmm where has my sweet girl gone?” He asks you, his smug nature intact. Not good, you think, he might be able to play dirty better than you.
Your confidence in yourself is waning the longer he looks at you, “Just… stop looking at me.”
A smile breaks out across his face, “Not if it’ll get you to break first.”
You keep showing him your hand, he makes you weak, and he likes that about you. Maybe it would be smarter to use that to your advantage, rather than pretending he doesn’t affect you. He’s able to read you impeccably well, any lie you try and give him is probably going to fall flat. Lying isn’t something you consider yourself to be bad at but trying to lie to Bi-Han is like trying to lie to someone who can read minds, so it’s better to just avoid it.
“You’re right Bi-Han, I want you, badly, all the time,” you’re looking at him as innocently as possible.
One of his eyebrows raises in response, “Are you asking for something?” He’s hoping you are.
“Nope. Just letting you know how much I want you. All the time.” You state before walking over to where you were previously standing with Johnny and Kenshi.
You would’ve liked to keep talking with him, but you have a feeling that would be more to your detriment than his. Tuning back into Kenshi and Johnny’s conversation you realise they’re arguing, because of course they are.
“Just give the sword back Johnny!” Kenshi sounds exasperated with him, this is not the first time they’ve argued over this, and you have a feeling it won’t be the last.
“No way man! Do you know how much this cost me?” Johnny is just as equally exasperated as Kenshi. Their relationship and squabbles amuse you, until –
“Settle this, do you think he should give Sento back?” They both turn to you suddenly, dragging you into this argument against your will. How nice of them.
You really do not want to be dragged into this, “I have no stake in this, guys.”
“Yeah, exactly. That’s why you should decide for us,” Johnny adds.
Why would they want you to settle this, whatever you decide the other would be angry with and you like both of them.
“Look, guys, this isn’t something that another person can solve for you, and I’d really rather not pick, I don’t want to lose a friend based on a choice I make.”
They both stare at you, God, what is with all these men and staring.
Then you feel it, his looming presence coming up behind you, he grabs your shoulder to get your attention. You drop your head back to look up at him.
“Did you have something to ask, Sub-Zero?”
He looks down his nose at you, “mmm, you need to come with me.”
Straightening your head, you look forward again, you go to address the two men in front of you but before you can, Johnny looks at Bi-Han and says, “Wait, before you leave, settle this for us. Who do you think should have Sento?”
Bi-Han looks at the pair of them dead eyed for a moment, trying to give Johnny a chance to take his question back, “Don’t care.” He states plainly before grabbing your arm and walking away.
Why Johnny thought asking him was a good idea you have no idea, you turn around quickly to apologise to them both, they’re giving you a sympathetic look. Their pity is granted because to them, you’ve just been pulled away by the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei. Assumedly, about to get scolded for something, which may be half true. You give them a smile back; to try and assuage any genuine worry they may have, before facing Bi-Han’s back again, following him silently.
He walks you away from the training area into a quiet, empty area of the temple. Your heart is racing, you have no idea what he’s intending to do, he wouldn’t have cracked that easily, which means he’s brought you here for another reason. He’s stopped walking, back facing you.
“Bi-Han, why have you kidnapped me?”
He turns to face you, rolling his eyes at your light-hearted accusation, “I have not kidnapped you, that’s an exaggeration.”
Cocking an eyebrow at him and placing a hand on your hip, you say, “I am well aware, what did you have to ask?”
“How long?” He asks, he needs to start speaking in full sentences, more often than not he will state something like it doesn’t need further explanation.
Though you can probably guess with pretty good accuracy what he’s referring to, that doesn’t mean you’re going to make it easy for him. Time for a taste of his own medicine, he’s often acting intentionally dense to get you to admit to things, now it’s his turn.
“How long for what?”
His eyes harden at you, “How long until I can have all of you again?”
Is he trying to compromise with you? Maybe he wasn’t as confident in his own willpower as you thought, “that depends, are you giving up?”
“No.”
“It’s a competition now, Bi-Han, there is no timeline anymore.” Not that there was ever a timeline, you were just hoping to get to know him a bit more before sleeping with him again but seeing him increasingly get more desperate is too good to turn away from now.
Watching him struggle with what he wants to do next has you realising, two sides of Bi-Han are clashing right now. He’s stubborn but he’s also impatient, it’s thrilling not knowing which side will win.
“It’s a stupid competition. Childish.” He spits the words at you.
“You started it.” You shrug at him.
“I most certainly did not start this.” He points at you.
He’s getting angry now, it has you smiling, “you’re only annoyed now because I’m winning.”
He grunts at you, “This could end right now Bi-Han, if you just admit you’ve lost.” You’re offering him a way out; one you know he won’t take.
“What are the rules?”
You answer him honestly, “I hadn’t considered any.”
He stalks towards you, it has you taking steps back until you hit a wall. Both of his hands come up and cage you against it, he leans down slightly, head angled, “then I will.”
You look up at him, eyes large, taking him all in, “Bi-Han, you’re really pretty,” you tell him your internal thought by accident.
He looks shocked for a second before his head rests on your shoulder, he speaks into your neck, “Sweet, sweet girl, my sweet girl.” He inhales the scent of your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.
This situation is precarious for you, if he sweet talks you, you might cave. You need to get him back on topic. But before you can speak to get him back on track, he moves his lips to yours, one of his hands coming off the wall to grab at the side of your face, angling you to his liking. Tongue entering your mouth teasingly, you moan into his mouth, and he swallows the sound.
When he pulls back, he smirks at the look on your face, your eyes wet and soft for him, he always makes you feel so pliable. This competition is not made for you, you bend to his will too easily, he’s only kissed you and you want more.
You close your eyes tight, not looking into his eyes will help, he’s got pretty eyes that you fall into every time. You just need to not look at him right now.
“What are you doing?” He asks, his thumb stroking your cheek, a rare sign of the way he coddles you.
“I can’t look at you and your pretty eyes.”
He hums in response, “that’s fine, only need your lips for what I’m doing right now.”
Then he leans in to kiss you again, he’s being gentle, tender, tongue licking into your mouth and exploring, he’s taking his time, kissing your breath away.
He’s officially, completely, distracted from what he was talking about, lips moving against yours, consuming you. He moves his body closer to yours, the feel of him against you has a whimper slipping from you. The sound makes him grunt but it brings him back to himself, and he pulls away, but not before he plants a single wet kiss on your lips and then he’s pulling his lips away completely.
Forehead resting against yours, he huffs, “you wanna give up?”
You nod your head, and he seems pleased, but you continue on to say, “I do, but I’m not going to.” His small moment of triumph ripped from him at your words.
A low grunt is his response to you, he’s disappointed that you haven’t caved but only because he’s not going to either. “Want you and your tight, little–”
“Rules! What rules did you want?” you cut him off, his words are his weapon and right now he’s one good strike away from you giving in and letting him do whatever he wants to you.
He smirks at you, he knows how his words effect you, loves the way you squirm at the things he whispers to you.
“From now on losing counts as, kissing, touching, dirty talk, whispering sweet nothings to each other–”
“–Bi-Han, you’ve done all of those things, just now.” The gall of this man.
“There were no rules before,” he’s dismissive of your complaint.
You have an incredulous look on your face, “well, there goes your whole arsenal then.”
“Not really, I still have my pretty eyes.” He’s making fun of you, but you know the way you react to and compliment him has him soft for you.
“No nicknames?” You ask him.
He glares at you, “no nicknames.” He confirms.
That makes you sulk a bit, not only because calling him Grandmaster was one of your trump cards but also because you like when he calls you sweet girl.
“Can you still call me sweet girl?” You ask him gently; you genuinely don’t want him to stop but you’re also playing dirty by asking and you know it.
His chest rumbles with a deep growl and his head tips back, “Fucken, alright but only because I think it will benefit me more than you.”
When he looks at you again there is a cheeky smile on your face, “compliments? Can I still tell you how pretty your eyes are? Or how I love when your arms are crossed and your muscles become defined, or how hot your hands looks when they flex, or–”
One of his hands moves to cover your mouth, cutting you off, “Jesu– no, no compliments.”
You give the palm of his hand a small kiss and his head falls forward, chin on his chest, “You’re going to kill me,” he sighs.
You’re smiling against his palm; this round goes to you.   
❆˖°
It’s been a few days since your rendezvous with Bi-Han, he had to go away for a couple of them to take care of some business but ever since he’s been back you think he’s been avoiding you. And you aren’t sure if that excites or frightens you. The upper hand was yours last time, now you’re worried that he’s plotting his revenge, and you have no idea what he would even do. His rules basically take away all of his trump cards, but they also take away yours. Leaving you both in a weird purgatory state of trying to figure out what to do next without breaking any of the rules.
There are a few options, but unless you can get away with walking around the temple grounds completely naked without anyone seeing you, there isn’t anything that could get him to break quickly enough.
You find yourself back at the rock, you’ve started calling it your enlightenment rock, on account of how often you come here to meditate. Though you aren’t here for spiritual guidance currently. Not unless the spirits can guide you on how to break Bi-Han’s will into fucking you senseless. It feels a little inappropriate to even think about here, but you think best here, and you need the peace right now.
Thinking about what you could do is exhausting, you’re not good at initiating these kinds of things, you’re more of a defence kind of person than attack. Which makes Bi-Han avoiding you even funnier, he’s pretty quick to go on the attack, usually.
You’re at a stalemate and you want to be the one to break it, but you’ll need a for sure thing, if you go in half-cocked and your plan fails it gives him an opening to get you to crack, which, in all honesty, you would. He breaks down all your defences with just a look, and now that you’re thinking about it, that might be his plan.
This is what you mean by thinking about this is mentally taxing, you’re either thinking too hard or not hard enough. The man is unpredictable, and you like that about him, just, not right now. You want to be the one to win and over thinking might cost you the competition.
A big smile breaks out across your face as you are suddenly blessed with a fantastic idea to get the man to break, not the kind of enlightenment you usually come here for but it’s the next best thing.
The moment is taken from you when you feel Bi-Han’s eyes on you, “Hello Bi-Han.” You don’t turn around to look at him.
“How do you always manage to know it’s me? I am a ninja, and I can’t even look at you without you knowing.” He’s curious about your sixth sense for him and you don’t have an answer that would satisfy him.
You shrug your shoulders in response, “I can feel it, that’s the best way to describe it.”
“And what do you feel when I look at you?” He’s moving closer to you, standing directly behind your sitting form. Any closer and his back would be pressed against yours.
You consider what to say, you could lie but like you’ve said, lying to him is damn near impossible, “It feels electric.” It’s the only way you can accurately describe how it feels to have his gaze aimed at you.
He grunts at you in response.
You’re smiling because he’s so soft for you in the oddest of ways, “you asked,” you tell him.
“Shouldn’t have.” He pauses before continuing, “Mmm, what are you doing out here? It’s getting late.”
And it is, you had realised this you just needed the silence to give you ideas for your plan. The temple has too many people and you often get pulled into conversations, you don’t mind, but you’re taking this competition unnecessarily seriously.
“I have been thinking.”
“And what have you been thinking of?” He asks.
“I’d tell you, but I think it would count as whispering sweet nothings to you.”
You can practically feel the way he rolls his eyes from behind you, he huffs a breath out and you can feel the air brush against your neck. You stifle your reaction, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of your body reacting to him without physical touch.
He’s moving his face closer to the back of yours, lips close to you neck but never touching, “there is nothing I can say right now that won’t break those stupid rules.”
You can’t help the shiver that runs through you at his breath whispering over your skin “you made them.”
“Might break them too. You’d like that wouldn’t you? Me breaking first, taking you however I desire–”
“–You are walking a very thin line Bi-Han,” you remind him, he often gets lost in the words he speaks to you.
He takes a step back, sighing again, “Come back to the temple, dinner will be served soon.”
You look back at him and smile, “I’ll be up soon.”
“Don’t take too long, it’s supposed to be cold tonight,” he mumbles at you as he begins to walk away.
It’s adorable, the way he cares if you eat on time or if you’ll be warm. He’s driving you crazy without even realising it, if he turned back and said one more thing concerning your wellbeing, you’d break the rules by running up to him and hugging him.
❆˖°
Waiting is all you can do right now; you’re waiting until everyone has gone back to their quarters so that you can sneak into Bi-Han’s and put your plan into action. It’s not going to be particularly fair to him and you don’t know if he’ll classify it as cheating, but you don’t classify it as cheating, not technically anyways.
It’s almost quarter to midnight when it sounds like everyone has turned in for the night and you take the opportunity to sneak from your room and briskly walk to Bi-Han’s.
Approaching the door, you tentatively knock at it, waiting for him to answer and slide the door open feels like it takes forever but when he does you feel like you might fold on the spot, he’s wearing a loose robe, his whole chest on display and the worst part is, his hair is down and in his face a little. He has such soft looking hair, and you want nothing more than to run your hands through it.
Bi-Hans face is decidedly unhappy until he realises it’s you at his door, and then he’s smug, taking in your gaze, all gooey for him.
“Evening, sweet girl, you here to give in?” He’s grinning at you like you’re his prey.
You hurry inside past him, careful not to touch him, “No, I’m here to win.”
He groans, exasperated at you, like he couldn’t just cave now and end it all. “C’mon, just give in, I know you want to.”
“and I know you want to, too,” you’re standing in the middle of his room awkwardly, you’re trying to decide how you’re going to do this.
He slides the door closed and turns to look at you, his head crooking to the side slightly, hair falling into his face a bit. His arms are crossed over his chest, and it has your skin on fire, he looks irresistible to you right now and it’s not fair.
“What are you here to do, exactly?” He raises a questioning eyebrow at you.
You purse your lips, you know exactly what you want to do, you’re just feeling a little shy. Fuck it you think, and you shrug your own robe off your body, you’re completely bare beneath it.
Bi-Han’s eyes go wide, “What are you planning, sweet girl?” He’s breathless at your bare figure in front of him, completely taken aback by your uncharacteristic boldness.
You move over to his bed and sit down on it, propping yourself up against his pillows, “I’m going to touch myself and I’m going to make you watch.” You’re fighting against your own embarrassment, skin breaking out in a deep blush.
He looks entirely too pleased with this situation, “Mmm, go on then, show me how you touch yourself.”
“You can’t sweet talk me! that was one of your rules,” you point at him, “If you break the rules you lose,” you’re pouting at him.
He’s nodding his head, staring at your legs, waiting not so patiently for you to part them, “mmhm, I know, just spread your sweet thighs.”
You’re not sure if you should call him on that or not but since you’re also walking a thin line you let it go. He’s moving to sit at the foot of the bed, eyes never leaving your body as he does.
Slowly, you part your legs, and he lets out a quiet growl at the sight of your pussy, wet and wanting. Reaching down, your fingers run through your slick, spreading it all over your folds. You insert one finger into your hole, whining at the feeling, before you move it to your clit, rubbing small, controlled circles into it.
Little whimpers and quiet whines leave your mouth, you’re trying to hold in your sounds as you use your fingers to bring you pleasure. Looking over at Bi-Han you can see a thinly veiled animalistic look in his eyes, he’s trying to restrain himself. Feeling tortured by his inability to touch or even speak to you right now.
Your movements speed up on your clit and a gasp is ripped from you, Bi-Han’s staring heightening your pleasure.
“Ffuck – stop, stop.” He’s suddenly asking you to stop.
“Mmm, but I am so – ngh – close,” you don’t stop, your breaths coming faster and whines pitching higher, you’re so close to finishing.
Eyes wet with how close your high is, your other hand reaching up to grab your own breast. Bi-Han looks angry, his hand reaches out and rips yours away from your pussy. You whine in response to your pleasure being ripped from you at the last second.
“I told you to stop, shit.” He looks really angry, and you can’t help but feel a little smug, a small, suppressed, smile painting itself on your lips.
“You lost,” you tell him, though by how angry he is, you think he already knows that.
He squints at you with an accusatory glare, “wouldn’t have if you just fucken listened to me.”
“Yeah, but I wanted you to lose.”
He snarls at you, “you fucken win and now I’m taking you how I want.”
“Okay,” you smile brilliantly at him.
“Try not to be so pleased with yourself.” He’s hot when he’s grumpy.
But you can’t help it, you won, and he lost and now you can have sex with him again and feel victorious. It’s a good day to be you.
He moves over you and leans down, kissing you harshly, he pulls away but only to pull your mouth open and then he’s shoving his tongue into your mouth. You moan against him; you’ve missed his lips against yours. He’s being more forceful with you than usual, sexually frustrated and annoyed that he’s lost this arbitrary competition against you.
Pulling his lips from yours he starts kissing your neck, sucking deep marks into your skin.
“Bi-Han, not my neck, the others will see–”
“–Good, mine, you’re mine.” He sucks another mark into the centre of your collarbones, “Isn’t that right, my sweet girl?”
You nod your head, “Mhm, m’yours.”
The groan he lets out can be felt against your skin where his mouth is attached, he continues downwards. Sucking hickeys into your skin as he goes. He reaches your cunt and nuzzles his face into it, licking between your folds. His actions make you whine, back coming off the bed, his hand reaches up and pushes you back to the bed by your stomach.
Then he uses both hands to spread your thighs further apart, enough so that he can fit his shoulders between your legs. He turns his head into your thigh and sucks a mark there.
“Got such a pretty cunt, Mm gonna fucken ruin you,” your hole clenches at his words and he watches, he has a wolfish smile on his face at your reaction.
“God, fucken missed seeing how needy you are, love the way your body reacts to me,” he adds.
He’s driving you mental, “please,”
“Mmm? You need something, sweetie?” His tone is mocking, he knows exactly what you want.
“Want your mouth, on me, please?”
“Say you want my mouth on your cunt and then I might oblige.” He’s staring into your eyes, waiting for you to repeat his words.
It has you blushing again, it feels so filthy to say out loud to him, “I want your mouth on my cunt, please.” Your voice wavers as you mumble the words out.
You feel really exposed, legs over his shoulders as he looks at you, refusing to break eye contact.
“Not good enough, try again,” he has an amused look on his face, but his tone is serious.
You repeat yourself louder, “want your mouth on my cunt, please, Bi-Han,” you whine a little as you say it.
He chuckles at you, “all you had to say, sweetheart.”
He tucks his head down and licks along the length of your pussy, your back goes to arch again but he predicts that and moves his hand back to your stomach and holds you down.
His tongue enters your hole, licking into you before moving up to your clit, then he suctions onto it. Two of his fingers coming up to enter you, crooking them up into you, finding the spot he did last time and fucking into it.
You’re biting your lip trying to keep the noises in, head rolling back onto the pillows behind you. He removes his mouth from your clit but doesn’t stop his fingers.
“Eyes on me, do not stop looking.” He warns.
You aren’t focusing though, his fingers inside you taking you elsewhere. He pulls them from you and smacks your pussy at your lack of response, it has you jolting upright.
“Eyes on me, and stop biting your lip, wanna hear you.” His words slur together a little.
You look him in the eyes again, “yes, Grandmaster.” You mumble mindlessly, a little lost in the pleasure he’s given you.
“Fffuck, look at you, so pretty and dazed.” He moves his mouth back to your pussy, lapping at you like his last meal.
He’s eating you out with the conviction of a man who’s afraid he’ll never do it again, you maintain eye contact with him, but you feel like they might cross. You move your hands to his head, grabbing at his hair. He hums at the feel of your fingers pulling at him.
You’re getting closer to your peak; he stuffs his fingers back inside you and it pulls a loud moan from you. He groans into your cunt, the vibrations pushing you closer to the edge. His fingers speed up as he sucks unforgivingly at your clit. Your moans come louder and faster, and then he pulls his mouth away to blow cold air on your clit, it feels sharp and has you coming with a yelp. Your hands move to grab at his sheets, attempting to ground yourself.
He’s pleased, watching you fall apart on his fingers, when you’ve come down from your high, he pulls his fingers from you. But he leans down again and licks up your cum, he keeps licking at you and you try to wiggle away from his unrelenting tongue.
He pushes you down and uses both hands to hold your thighs open, “stay fucken still.”
“Ngh – it’s too much Bi-Han, mm sensitive, please.”
“I know but you’re gonna take it.” He tells you.
He’s licking at you fervently, in your pussy hole, your clit, sucking on your folds, he’s lost in your cunt. He flattens his tongue against you and shakes his head and it has you coming suddenly against your will. A breathy whine pulled from deep inside your chest, the force of it bites at you, the feeling too much. Your grip on his sheets hardening, if you were more present, you’d worry about tearing them.
He pulls back satisfied with the way you’re squirming, he keeps his hands on your thighs, holding them apart.
He’s staring at your fluttering hole, “could suck on your pussy for the rest of my life.”
Your thighs are fighting against his hands trying to close, he lets go and lets you close them. You take a moment to catch your breath, the overstimulation sending shocks through your body. A sharp kind of pleasure.
Tears in the corners of your eyes, one falling, Bi-Han climbs on top of you and leans down, licking it away.
“You’re such a sensitive little thing.” He whispers to you.
Then he moves his mouth to yours, devouring you through a kiss. He kisses you until you’re reaching up to him, running your hands through his hair, and then tugging him away.
He pulls back from you, lips ghosting over yours, “What is it?”
“Want you, please?”
His grin is wide, “love the way you ask me for things, such a polite girl.”
He pulls back, resting on his knees as he undoes his robe, throwing it onto the floor, the sight of him bare makes your cunt jump and mouth water.
He locks eyes with you, “You’re staring.”
“Yes.” Is all you can manage, “you’re… beautiful.”
“Jesus woman, too nice, such a nice girl.” He leans down and pecks your lips, your cheeks, he noses at the side of your face before kissing your ear, neck, anywhere he can reach.
Your hands reach out to rest on his shoulders and your legs move to rest your thighs on his hips, pulling him closer. His skin rests against yours, and you hug him to you. Your face moves to the crook of his neck, and you place a kiss there.
His hips slowly start to grind into you, the sweet intimate moment broken by his dick slipping through your folds.
“Sooo, fucken wet, always so wet an messy, mmph,” he speaks into your neck.
You move your hips against him, the feel of his cock rubbing against you making you wetter, rutting yourself into him more, “Bi-han, need it, please.”
“ngh – you can – hah – fucken wait,” he’s teasing you, your punishment for winning.
You whimper as his dick continuously slides over your clit; his upper half pulls away so he can look down to where he’s rubbing against you. Enjoying the way your hips are raising to chase him.
Deciding to take mercy on you and himself, he grabs the base of his cock, and slips the head into you, “hah – I forgot how fucken – ngh – ridiculously tight you are.” He groans at the feel of you wrapped around him, “you’re so – mph – warmmm.”
“Bi-Hannn~” you moan his name; he keeps sliding into you at a leisurely pace, trying not to hurt you.
“I needa fuck you more often – nghh, keep this cunt ready for me.” His hands are back on your thighs, keeping you open so he can watch himself slide into you.
You can feel his dick twitching inside you, he’s turned on watching the way he’s splitting you open. He’s about halfway in when he starts rubbing your clit, moving a hand off your thigh to do so, “you needa relax for me, sweetie.”
Your pussy clenches around him, “that’s hard when you keep talking.”
“Mmm, love the way I talk to you, don’t you?”
“You know I do,” he knows, he just loves the ego boost he gets from hearing you confirm it.
Then he drives all the way into you, and it pushes a gasp from your lungs, a long-drawn-out groan comes from Bi-Han. His question was just to distract you so he could bully his cock the rest of the way into you.
He looks up to the ceiling and away from where you’re connected, “ffffff–”
You raise your hips to grind against him, clit rubbing against his pelvis, the full feeling has you seeing stars.
“Mpphh – stop, unless you want me cumming now.” He warns you.
You whimper at him but can’t stop grinding into him, he pulls his hand from one of your hips and pushes them down, holding you still. The way he can hold you down turns you on, you’re still trying to rut up against him though.
You whine his name, and he snarls at you, “hold fucken still, needy fucken–” Your cunt tightens around him, and he has to take a breath, his dick twitching in you.
He shoots you an angry glare, “I can’t help it,” you tell him.
He knows but he doesn’t want this being ruined because he came too soon. He lowers his body down and presses flat against you. Skin to skin, it has you preening, you wrap your legs completely around him, ankles connecting behind him. He sinks deeper at your movement and a guttural moan comes from deep in his chest.
Pulling his head from your neck he presses kisses all over your face before taking your lips in his again, kissing you deeply, passionately. Licking into you deliberately, taking his time. Then he starts gently pulling from you, moving in and out of you at a languid pace. His tenderness makes your heart sing, his pace is consistent, unrelenting, and makes your head spin.
Lips parting from yours he moves to your ear, whispering praises to you, “sweet girl – ngh – sweet cunt, tastes so sweet – mph – sounds you make are so sweet.” Soft clapping noises are filling the room.
The sounds in the room are a mix of the slapping of skin against skin and the wet noises your cunt is making. It’s making him dizzy, he’s holding back, being gentle and sweet, always trying to remember to be careful with you.
“Grandmaster – hah – harder please, I want more, want all of it.” You tell him, trying to encourage him to let go, to fuck you how he pleases. Like how he promised.
“Mphh – fucken, whatever you want, sweet girl – shiii” He kisses your cheek, before moving his head back a bit.
One of his hands braces behind your head on the bed, the other grabs your hip, holding you against him tightly. He spreads his knees slightly and then he’s fucking into you at such an unforgiving velocity it leaves you breathless, weepy moans and whimpers coming out of your mouth in a broken manner.
“How’s – hah ngh – this?” he asks you, smirking cockily at you.
“good, sogood – mph – always so good Grandmaster.”
He speeds up more, something you wouldn’t have thought possible, “never letting you go, mine, you’re fucken – ngh – mine now, sweet girl.”
You feel overwhelmed, his words, the speed of his thrusts, the strength of them, it’s making you cry. Bi-Han notices and laughs, “too fucken much for you? Mmph – look so cute when you cry.”
You nod your head, eyes glassy as you look at him, tears slipping from the corner of your eyes. His smile is filled with pride, he loves that look on your face, never wants to forget it.
Your hand is grabbing onto his forearm by your head, the other scratching at his back, the feeling of your nails digging into his skin has him moaning. He looks down your bodies, watching where you connect.
“I’ve missed the way your – ngh – little cunt creams around me – mph,” he mumbles out, words slurring together, he’s getting closer to cumming.
Your pussy tightens around him, almost impossibly so, “cumming, mm cumming – hah–” You warn him, gasping moans leaving you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuckfuck – nghh – you feel sooo – ngh,” He’s cumming too, pumping you full of his cum.
He keeps fucking it into you until you tell him it’s too much, then he’s leaning down and wrapping his arms around you. He takes you with him as he rolls onto his back. Leaving you resting on top of him, his cock still inside you, both of your releases leaking from your hole.
“Mmmm, I’ve missed you. Couldn’t say it earlier, might’ve counted as sweet talking” He whispers against you.
Your heart leaps at his confession, “I missed you too, a lot.”
“We aren’t ever doing this stupid competition ever again.” He looks you firmly in your eyes, trying to drive home his point.
“Yes, Grandmaster.” You joke with him.
But he groans in response, and you can feel his cock hardening inside you, it has you blushing and tucking your head into his neck, hiding your face.
He chuckles at you, “Shouldn’t have deprived me, it’s gonna be a long night for you, sweet girl, I’m nowhere near done with you and your sweet little cunt.”
❆˖°
A/N: Oh mi gosh, 🤭 Bi-Han went a lil crazy in this. I make no apologies, you asked, and I supplied. And again I’m glad so many people enjoyed my first part. I say this every time but please if you want another part, or if you have any thoughts, feelings, ideas, requests, please reach out! I love hearing from everyone, and I am more than happy to interact with people.
Part three
One lovely @belle-oftheball34 asked to be tagged, so here ya go <33
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lure-of-writing · 17 days
Text
Done
Summary: you are done with the way Cassian treats you
word count: 2k
There you were yet again. Alone. Cassian had been doing this a lot recently. Avoiding you that is. It never used to be like this. In the past you couldn’t get him to leave you alone, he was obsessed with you. That was until your work took you to the continent for almost a year. Nine months if you were to be exact. Sure being away from the people you loved wasn’t the best situation to be in but yet you didn’t let that stop you. Often after a long day of playing in the world of politics you would return to your room to write each person of the inner circle a letter. Cassians was always the first to be written and sent out. The rest followed soon after. Since you physically could not be the night court you tried to find ways to remind those you loved that you did in fact love and miss them dearly. Oftentimes sending little items that reminded you of them. Hand made emblem for Rhys to stamp his papers with, beautiful paints that weren’t available in the night court for Feyre. So on and so forth. 
At first everything was fine but the more time you spent on the continent the less you heard from Cassian. The first thought that crossed your mind at the lack of communication from Cass was that Rhys put him to work. Giving him something to focus on other than your lack of presence. With a quick letter to the high lord you quickly found out that was not the case. He in fact was not currently tending to anything other than his recurring requirement to his court. This was strange. 
Something you had learned in your time with Cassian was that sometimes you just simply did not have enough energy to deal with another person, let alone have a conversation with them. So you slowed down the letters you were sending but never failing to remind him that you loved him and couldn’t wait to be home once more and if you were able to visit then you would. Sometimes he would acknowledge the letters you sent, sometimes he wouldn’t. If he sent a letter to you he would oftentimes  disregard what you said about missing him, simply brushing past what you said as if it held no significance. This didn’t happen right away of course, no, it was a slow and minute thing that happened over time. When he first stoped sharing your feeling of longing and want to be with the other person you didn’t mind, figuring that he was enjoying some time alone without you but by month six you were concerned, exhausted, sad and overall hurt and frustrated. This lead you to calling him out on his actions in your next letter. “What is going on? We barley talk, when I offer to come visit you say no, when I ask for you to come here instead you say no. Ive tried just about everything to see you but yet you never do the same for me. I find it quite ironic how every time I think I will have enough time to return home you suddenly are very busy, but yet when I ask Rhysand if that is the case it isn’t. You never have enough time in your days for me but you always have more then enough time to spend with your friends. You will pick literally anything and anyone else over me. Why is that? Do you not love me anymore? Am I not good enough? If you don’t feel the same or want to be in this relationship then please let me know because I can’t do this.” 
Cassian obviously talked you down from the ledge of a breakup reassuring you that he did in fact love you; he was just busy with everything happening within the inner circle especially since he was the peacekeeper between Rhysand and Nesta. Bregurgenly you accepted his answer not without reminding him that what he did was not ok and he needed to change his behavior. Immediately he agreed stating that he saw how it was a problem and needed to do better. 
But better never came. Three months had passed since that argument and almost a month more had passed since you returned home. It was mind blowing how even upon your return back to the night court Cassian never came to see you. Not once. Once again something or someone else always needed him more. With a defeated heart and building anger you accepted each of his excuses in hope that he would one day return the effort you were putting in the relationship. That day never came. Rhysand wanted to see you after your long excursion across the ocean and to a foreign land. He also needed a report from you in full but that was neither here or there. Once at the river house Rhys greeted you with a big smile and open arms, inviting you into a very much needed hug. “How are you my friend?” the question was asked as your high lord led you to his office “I’ve been better but you know how that goes.” Rhysand frowns at your answer “Continue on. What do you mean by that?” sighing you deflate in the chair across from him. “It’s Cassian. I asked him when we could see each other and he said he was busy this weekend and last but I know he was just here. I can smell him. If he was just here, why couldn’t he have stayed and finally acknowledged my existence for the first time since I’ve gotten home?” Rhys simply nodded his head in understanding sensing you had more you needed to get off of your chest. He was right about that. “And then when I asked about seeing him this weekend he said he was busy celebrating the new Valkyries. Like seriously? C’mon. You can’t spare five minutes of your day to say hi, how are you?” 
“I see why you have been better.” with another heavy sigh you nod while closing your eyes to stop the burning sensation of oncoming tears from succeeding in their mission. “Not even that but he doesn’t even talk to me anymore. I will try and try and try but it's like he couldn’t be less interested in what I have to say. If I don’t say anything first we would never talk. Gods, we don’t talk. Actually now that I think of it I can’t remember the last time we had a conversation that lasted for more then five minutes. That is when he can pencil me into his very busy schedule.” You felt Rhysands observing eyes take note of your completely exhausted appearance. And the drained feeling radiating off of you. It wasn’t from the trip. He knew that much. “Y/n my dear you need to talk to him about this.” the first sigh of your impending breakdown was your wobbling lip being pressed inbetween your teeth and the deep breath you take to stop yourself from crying. It was not successful as tears freely made their way down your cheeks. Rhysand saw it then. You were not angry, or frustrated you were simply done being treated this way. You knew what you needed to do but your heart hadn’t let you. “I have talked to him about this. All I do is talk and talk and talk.” A broken laugh makes it way out at how completely stupid you feel. “I’m done talking. He has shown me time and time again just how exactly he feels about me. You prioritize the people you love. And I am no longer a priority.” Finally opening your eyes you see those stunning violet eyes staring back. At first it felt like pity but the longer you looked the more you recognized the true emotion displayed. Empathy. Oftentimes you forgot Rhys could look into people's minds but as you felt the gentle nudge in your head asking for permission to see what had been going on you allowed it. A few moments pass as he shuffled through your memories before he finally retreated to his own mind. “Y/n my dear you don’t deserve that. You know this right.” You couldn’t find it in yourself to verbally respond to him so instead you simply nodded your head while trying to hold back the tsunami of tears fighting to be released. “I know.” you whispered 
Getting Cassian to yourself was no easy feat. The first few failed attempts resulted in getting Rhysand involved as much as you hated having to do so. But this conversation was much needed and you knew you would never feel content with your decision unless you were able to talk with the male face to face. There in that exact office where you had cried to your closest friend about your relationship being in shambles is where you now stood in front of Cassian who was silently sitting in the chair in front of you. “We should break up.” That finally got his attention. As soon as Rhysand revealed that the pretend meeting was just a ploy to get him in the same room as you, Cassian had shut down completely. Now he was staring at you with wide eyes and an open mouth. “I have tired and tired to get you to care about me and I am done trying. I am tired.” Cassian tried to speak but with the raise of your hand he was quick to close his mouth. “Everything else in your life has taken more priority in your life than me, and I am not saying that I am the most important person in your life because I am not. But I have been begging for you to give me even an ounce of your attention and you can’t even do that so I am done. I am done begging you to allow me in your life, hell to even want me in your life in the first place. I will not continue to beg and plead for you to show me you care because it is quite obvious that you don’t and that you haven’t for a very long time. This is not how you treat someone you love. I would know because I would never do the same to you.” Cassian stood abruptly closing the distance between the two of you causing you to take an equal about of steps back from him. Seeing the hurt flash in his eyes brought you a sense of disbelief. Only when you are about to walk away does he finally show interest in you again. How ironic. “Please don’t do this. Don’t leave me. I can do better, I can be better.” His whisper of words are overshadowed by the laugh falling from your lips. “That is what you have been saying for months and yet you never change. Sure you do better for like a week and then everything is back to normal. It's time to face the music, Cassian. This relationship is over. It has been for months. I was the only one putting in effort and you honestly can’t believe that I would continue to stick around when you don’t do the same. Relationships are two-sided and you know that but yet I was all alone.” 
Swiftly you move past him and his outstretched arm. Only stopping once you reach the threshold of the doors. You don’t look back as you speak “I hope you are a better partner for Nesta.” Cassian remains silent as you pull open the door. Rolling your shoulders back you stand tall as you make your way down the hallway lined with Rhysand and Azriel. Finally you had set yourself free from the person who valued you the least. Outside of the River house you took in Velaris one last time. Life on the continent was calling and you couldn’t fathom telling it no. Something in your soul had changed walking out of that room. Something no male could ever take away from you again. Happiness. And for the first time in your life you finally understood what it meant to put yourself first.
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strawberryspence · 1 year
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Because I am obsessed with the famous trope here’s another one that kept me up all night.
Steve and Eddie dated right after Vecna in ‘86 and it’s perfect. They date each other and it’s like two puzzles clicking together. But they’re young, foolish and they both have mountains of trauma. And sometimes, the passion and love, just isn’t enough to keep a relationship going.
They have a messy break up that has Eddie packing all his stuff up in ‘88. Eddie goes to LA or New York, either way that’s where he gets discovered. He then goes on to write some very angsty and angry rock/metal music about the break-up that gets him up on the map.
Steve hates it. He hates it with every fibre of his soul because it’s one thing when you and you ex still have the same friends and have to be civil with each other, but it’s a whole other thing when you open the radio and this man you dated, this man you loved and cared for and failed is just out here singing it for the whole world to hear.
And yeah listen, it’s petty and dumb. But Steve writes his own fucking songs, it’s not the direct response to Eddie’s song but it’s close. By that time it’s already ‘90 and Eddie’s made a whole name and career out of their relationship. Steve writes the songs, he sings, and he sends the damn demo to almost fifty different companies. And he gets picked up by one company.
Steve takes the pop star route, and with his looks and his somehow amazing vocals, by ‘94 Steve’s on the charts with Whitney and Mariah. The whole Party has solemnly promised to not get involved with their petty songwriting fighting anymore. They also haven’t spoken in person in almost six years, and the only way they communicate now is through the freaking songs.
There’s not a lot of overlap with the rock and pop community, and no one notices it until ‘05. It’s one fan that makes this one blog post talking about this weird freaky coincidence in Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson’s songs. It becomes a whole thing, like someone from Hawkins pulls out the yearbooks and finds out that they could’ve known each other. Their faces are splashed together into every magazine and celebrity entertainment shows.
They don’t say anything about it. No one comments about it for a few years and it infuriates the public even more. The next time Steve comes out with a song, Eddie comes out with another song a few months after and it’s once again a literal conversation about their relationship.
The whole thing continues until ‘11 and by then there’s blog dedicated for all the clues. It’s now a long running thread, and it gets updated when there’s another clue to this massive confusing puzzle. There’s a whole subsection with names of every Party member and how they connect the two artists together. There’s freaking flow charts and pictures and family trees.
It only ends when Eddie finally posts two pictures on Twitter. The first one is taken backstage. All you can see is Steve’s back, but you will know it’s him because of his hair. He’s standing at the side of the stage, and on the stage is Eddie Munson singing. The second one is a picture of Eddie sitting in a couch as Steve looms over him, hands crossed on his chest. Eddie’s signing his own album with a smirk, while Steve glares at him. If you zoom, you can see the sign on the album saying, “To Steve. This album is for you.”
The caption says: “Me and my biggest fan. Circa 2004.”
Steve replies to the original post saying: “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
Eddie deletes the post and reposts it with: “Me and my wonderful, gorgeous, talented husband. I can’t believe I am married to THE Steve Harrington.”
It’s the first time the term “break the internet” is ever used.
Turns out, they were just writing the songs to spite each other and to add fuel to the fandom fire. (In an interview, Eddie says, “It’s our foreplay.” and Steve doesn’t talk to him for a solid 30 minutes for running his mouth. It only lasts for 30 minutes because Eddie made it up to him by using his mouth for something else.)
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makelemonade · 1 year
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He loves me, he loves me not.
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🦋Relations: Ayato and Alhaitham x F!Reader (separate ofc) ASSUMED Ayato x Sara and Alhaitham x Dehya
🦋Summary: Your lover has been neglecting you a full month; hardly even coming home and always working. You start to overhear about his recent involvement with another girl and you can’t help but wonder, does he still love you?
‼️Warnings: She/her pronouns used (only like 5 times in total, endearments of pretty girl, baby and my love are used, insecurities are mentioned a lot, along with body insecurity (body dysmorphia?), thoughts of cheating, mention of a dick once (don’t think anyone cares cuz it’s daddy Alhaitham, ANGST- should be obvious, THERE IS COMFORT THOUGH! LOTS OF IT! bestie Diluc is mentioned along with Tighnari, jealousy, lots of crying, not proofread, can’t think of anything else
🦋Author Note: Alhaitham’s is a lot longer than Ayato’s I think we can tell who the favourite is. I’ll write Cyno and Tighnari next then link it here!
support me on kofi and read my other fics! all on pinned post !!!! (guys if u love Alhaitham go check out my wattpad I got a new Alhaitham x reader fic 😻)
Ayato
Sometimes, you felt like this marriage was a mistake.
Not felt actually, knew. It was an arranged marriage after all. The two of you had gotten to know each other just before the marriage, and you both did indeed have feelings for each other and even ended up falling in love during the arrangement. 
So, in your mind, it was a real marriage. Perhaps to his it was just an arranged one. 
You spent your days in bed alone, a cold spot beside you always. Even when you woke up, he was never there. 
Your parents weren’t as rich as the Kamisatos or popular, but due to the fact the Kojou clan denied the arrangement since Sara wasn’t ready for marriage. Your clan was second choice.
Maybe you were second choice in his life too.
You never felt good enough for him, barely ever speaking on how he was hardly here because you felt like you were in no position to speak up about it. He worked so hard for his family, and his clan represented so much in Inazuma it was a lot of work. Meanwhile your parents did most the work, but your clan was hardly known. It just proved how much better he was than you. 
Even after a year of your….marriage, you still felt the same. During the first few months you were both so close, spending nights giggling as he’d cuddle you while slightly tickling you just to piss you off. You don’t even see him anymore.
You started hearing workers around the estate talk about him and Kojou Sara. She was originally the first choice, and you felt like maybe he was going back to her. 
“They’re so much better together!”
“Never really thought him and Y/N’s clan were a good go.”
“She’s not a good choice for Ayato at all. I hope he finally comes to his senses and chooses Sara.”
“I heard they’ve been together a lot this past month, so he must be going back to her!”
She was always the first choice. 
When you heard the conversation between the workers, you ran into the hall leading to your room. 
“Y/N?” Ayaka realized, worry laced in her tone as you bumped into her, tears streaming down your face.
“Apologies.” You murmured, not even sparing her a look as you continued down the hall to your room, quickly closed the door so she couldn’t come and ask questions. 
You walked over to your desk, tears falling onto the hard wood of the desk as you grabbed a paper, finding a pen hurriedly.
When Thoma had taken you to his homeland once, you met a very nice man who you considered had very amazing advice. His name was Diluc, and ever since you visited, you’ve been constantly sending him letters- that being the way the two of you would communicate.
Dear Diluc, 
You started writing, hoping he wouldn’t mind the tears that would be dry by the time he received this letter. You wrote all about your marriage troubles- how in the last month Ayato has hardly spoken to you, taking up more hours at work, and spending more time with another woman. You wrote down your suspicions he was probably in love with Sara, seeing as she was originally the first choice.
Part of you didn’t understand why you were so shocked because well, why not her? The workers were right, she was so much better that you in many ways; a better fighter, a harder worker, a better clan- a better everything. 
When you read over the letter, you couldn’t help yourself from crying even more, fay tears rolling down your cheeks like an endless waterfall. You pushed the paper to the side, not wanting your tears to mess up the ink and your head fell onto the table as all you did was sob into your arms.
Your sobs turned into quiet whimpers until you felt no more motivation to continue crying, falling asleep right on the table. 
~~
When Ayato overheard what was seen of you from Ayaka, he rushed home as constant questions plagued his mind.
This was the first time he had ever left work only- it being almost 7pm, the sun starting to go down. He expected to find you on the bed, perhaps napping or crying into the pillows but no, he saw you with your head down on the table.
He walked up to you slowly, putting his hands on your shoulders and giving you a shake. He heard a slight snore and realized you were asleep, immediately removing his hands.
His eyes caught dried tears on a piece of paper and he picked it up, starting to read over it all.
At the end, he’d taken your old spot as he himself started to cry at the words you’d written; how you felt like a nobody compared to him, how he could do so much better and that he was probably in love with Kojou Sara.
That last part was what shocked him most. No! He was in love with you and only you’ he’ll admit, he has been with her a lot, but it was strictly for work! It’s been crazy with the end of the vision hunt degree, leaving the two clans in charge after Sara’s father was removed.
He read it over again, seeing how you wrote constantly “second choice” all over again.
In reality, the Kojou clan was originally his parents choice and was forced to ask them first. He always wanted to ask you first, because he had met you before and found you as the most gorgeous and outgoing girl he’s ever seen. 
He looked back at you, one of his tears falling atop your head. Why didn’t you tell him any of this?! He would’ve loved to resssure you that you were the love of his life, the girl he’d always dreamed of. Sure, he hasn’t been here for a while- oh.
He dragged his hand down his face, realizing why you didn’t say anything; because he was never here. 
“I’m so sorry, my love.” he whispered, wrapping  one of his arms behind your back and on under your legs as he picked you up, taking you towards the bed and placing you down gently.
You started to stir awake when you felt his arms wrap around you. “‘Yato?” You called, barely above a whisper.
He shushed you, placing a kiss to where your shoulder met your neck as he snuggled closer to you. “I’m here now, my love. I promise I’ll always be here. Now go sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up. I’ll be here forever and always. I love you so much, more than words can say.”
It was gonna be a long talk once the two of you woke up, but either way, you felt a lot warmer that night. 
Alhaitham 
You and Alhaitham weren’t engaged or married, only being together for a year and a half now.
So probably understandable why he was probably losing feelings for you? Right? Right?
“Hey, Kaveh.” You said, sitting in the kitchen of your shared home with Kaveh and Alhaitham.
“You look drained, Y/N. Are you okay?” 
“Yeah.”
That was a lie and a big fat one at that. You weren’t okay whatsoever.
Recently, in the last month, Alhaitham had barely come back home and you’ve hardly gotten the chance to see him. There was no more good morning or good night kisses, little dates in between work or work visits. There was none of that.
Now it was just waking up to a cold, empty spot in your bed.
Kaveh could read you like an open book. He’s noticed the lack of affection and attention you’ve gotten from Alhaitham, and despite the fact he despised the man, he also cared for him and his significant other and noticed everything.
He just hoped his and yours suspicions wouldn’t come true; that he had fallen out of love and was possibly cheating.
The latter was what scared him the most with how recently Alhaitham has been with Dehya. He came back after a week of being away to the Grand Azar being removed along with half the workers in the Akademiya, to Alhaitham and Dehya now best friends. The fuck happens when he isn’t here?!
He’s seen how close the two are during his times being in the Akademiya and he prayed to Kusanali that the worst wasn’t going to happen.
You knew about Dehya; you’ve heard about it all over Sumeru. How she was a perfect fighter, a desert bloom, perfect both and image for all eremites.
You were jealous, and a tad bit insecure. She was perfect in so many ways; popular, appreciated, constantly complimented. Her body was perfect along with her hair and voice. 
Your hair had uneven ends and you didn’t consider your body to be perfect.
No wonder Alhaitham would go for someone like her.
“Why don’t you go see Alhaitham?” Kaveh asked before he quickly got a large brown paper bag that was somehow filled with lunch and came out of nowhere. “Bring him lunch!”
It was his one attempt at getting you guys back to how you used to be.
You hoped it would work as Kaveh walked you to the Akademiya, and the whole time you were scared as your heart would drop with each step. 
“Tell me where you find him, I need to talk to him about some work.” Kaveh said before leaving to talk to a scholar once the two of you arrived at the Akademiya. 
You checked the library and there was no sign of him, even going to the outdoor areas since you knew how much he liked reading outdoors. You eventually asked a scholar who had pointed you in direction of his office and you felt your heart drop again.
You opened the doors slightly, hoping your lover would be happy to see you. 
But what you came in to see was a Dehya standing right beside him as he wrote on a piece of paper, sitting on a chair at his office desk. 
You felt your heart break a little when he didn’t even notice you walked in.
He only noticed when he heard the click of the door close behind you, the both of them looking up to see you with confusion on their faces.
The way Dehya stood so close to him with her toned and perfect body made your breath quicken in panic.
“Y/N?” Alhaitham spoke in confusion, halting his movement of writing on the paper. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to bring you lunch.” You spoke so quietly that it was almost a whisper that the two couldn’t hear.
“Oh.” He blinked as you put the bag on his desk, a fake smile plastered on your face that even though he was your lover, he couldn’t tell how forced it was. “Thank you.”
That was all he said before he looked back at Dehya, continuing to talk about eremites in the desert.
You felt your heart break into a million pieces and you slowly turned to leave. They broke into a million more when he didn’t even say goodbye or notice your departure. 
You closed the door quietly and ran once it closed, tears streaming down your tears as you rushed to get out of the Akademiya. 
Although, in the library, you heard a mention of his name and had to stop just to listen. 
“Have you seen the Scribe and Dehya lately? I heard they’re together.” 
“Really? What about Y/N? Did they break up?”
“Probably. Alhaitham is far better off with Dehya either way, not Y/N.”
You felt more tears stream down your face, not bringing yourself to move as you kept listening to the disgusting things they said about you. 
The only thing that brought you out of it was a hand on your shoulder and you looked up to see Kaveh staring at you, concern all over his face as his hand moved up from your shoulder to wipe your tears.
You let out a loud sniff, shoving his hand away before speaking. “He’s in his office, if you’re still looking for him.”
Before he could speak, you ran off, leaving the library and soon leaving the Akademiya.
Kaveh glared at Alhaitham’s office doors. Sure, he lost most of his arguments to Alhaitham, but this one he was gonna win as he marched his way into the office, forcing Dehya out before he started yelling at the grey-haired man.
~~
You couldn’t stay in Sumeru anymore. That was it.
You had been completely humiliated in front of Dehya, Kaveh and now the entire Akademiya knows that Dehya is so much better off for Alhaitham. 
Maybe being a forest ranger wasn’t too bad. It would mean hardly being in the main city and you wouldn’t have to see Alhaitham. 
You were actually thinking about it as you started writing a letter addressed to Tighnari at the edge of your bed, but halfway through when you realized what you were doing and why, you started violently sobbing as you fell to your knees, the letter scrunched up on the ground beside you as you sobbed into the softness of the edge of the bed.
You didn’t even hear the door open.
When Kaveh came in screaming at Alhaitham, it certainly shocked him and Dehya. He had even gone as far to yell at Dehya to get out of the office and she did, running out.
He went on and on about how you were and with each word, Alhaitham’s heart started to break. 
He hadn’t even realized how much he’d been neglecting you until Kaveh had to voice it out for you. He’s been so busy with work and choosing a new grand sage that he’s practically been ignoring you and treating you like a stranger.
When Kaveh said the sentence “at this point, Y/N would be a lot better with me since you can’t be a good boyfriend!” Alhaitham stormed out of the office, making his way straight home with no stops. 
You were his and his only and fuck no were you ever going to be Kaveh’s. He loved you, WAY more than Kaveh ever will. 
But it seemed like Kaveh loved you more than he did in the last month and he hated every part of himself for it. 
When he got home, he heard your violent sobs and started rushing to your shared room, his heart breaking once more at the sight of you.
He went down on his knees and wrapping his arms around you, pulling your back to his chest with his arms wrapped around your waist as you shook with sobs in his arms.
“Haitham?”
“I’m so sorry.” He spoke, his head resting against your shoulder as his own tears came out. “I’m so fucking sorry. You didn’t deserve what I did to you this past month, and I understand if you’re mad and want to leave me. Words can’t express how sorry I am, but I promise I will take the next few weeks off. Even if they tell me no, I’ll go against them and stay with you. My sweet, pretty girl, I love you- so so so much and a LOT more than Kaveh. You’re perfect, so so so perfect for me. Perfect face, eyes, mouth-“
He paused to press kisses all over your cheek, making you giggle through your cries and bringing a smile to your face. “My lips love you. My hands love you. I’ll go as far to say my dick loves you. Everything about me loves you. You’re perfect for me- everything about you is perfect for me. Screw anyone else, I just want you baby.” 
The next hour went by with him saying constant reassurances while kissing you all over. He had even ripped apart the letter you wrote for Tighnari, saying you’ll never leave his side and certainly won’t work for another man where he can’t even see you.
He held you close that night, making sure you were warm after all the cold nights. 
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ao3commentoftheday · 6 months
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Hello there! This question isn’t so much about popularity as it is about feeling lonely in fandom spaces. I’m in a relatively small fandom where it’s easy to “run into” the same users who write fanfic and draw fanart a lot. Over the years I’ve tried doing all the usual things to make fandom friends, like commenting a LOT on fanfic when new works are posted, being friendly in my author’s notes, being friendly on tumblr, complimenting artists works and reblogging and just generally trying to share the love so to speak.
People will reblog my art on here, but on AO3 I tend to get crickets on most of my stuff. Especially on fics for my OTP. My OTP is notttt popular in the fandom. It’s actually a lot of people’s NOTP because it “takes away” from the canon couple. I’ve accepted a long time ago that I’m going to get less readers because of the shipping stuff alone. But even on my works that aren’t shipping focused at all, it’s just crickets.
It just kinda sucks to try so hard to make fandom buddies and see them all having fun together and constantly feel like the kid sitting alone in the corner. I keep wondering if people in the fandom don’t like my fics just because of the shipping thing because I know I’m not a bad writer. But like I said, I’ve tried reaching out to people, be encouraging and show joy at what they create, but I just keep wondering what I’m doing wrong to make fellow fans not want to be friends with me. I’ve been focusing on just doing my own thing but yeah, it sucks not having anybody to fangirl with.
First of all anon, *hugs*. Being lonely sucks, and I'm sorry to hear you're in that situation.
When it comes to the other folks in your fandom, I don't think it's necessarily that they don't want to be friends with you. I think you might just need to do a little extra legwork to get in the friendship door.
It's not really fair, but it is kind of human nature, that if there is a perceived difference with someone else, we tend to keep them at a bit of a distance. It doesn't mean we dislike them! It just means that it takes more effort for us to get past that difference and see them as a friend. The more we do it, of course, the easier it gets and you might not even notice the hiccup anymore - in person.
You're probably in the "acquaintance zone," if you'll allow me to use the phrase. People probably have a generally positive impression of you because you're nice and you're friendly and you're encouraging. But if most of their conversations are happening in a ship-centric venue, for example, then you're not going to have access to the full spectrum of community with them.
You mention that other folks see your OTP as a NOTP. Do you feel the same way in reverse? They might assume that you do, and that's what's keeping you out of those convos. If you actually don't mind their ship and simply prefer your own, you could always attempt to make a foray in that direction? Let them know you don't mind being exposed to their shipping talk?
Another thing you could try would be to identify the multishippers. In my experience, those are the folks who are most open to befriending folks who don't ship the main pairing. They can see possibilities all over the place, and they're happy to be exposed to new ideas.
Small fandoms can be rough when you're into a niche part of it ❤️ Let's see how others handle your situation.
You can also find this question and answer on Dreamwidth.
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heartsiez · 2 years
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SECRET TRAVELS.
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⌗ kazuha x gn!reader
⌗ possessive!kazuha near the end, neglection and angst
( part 2 here )
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— kazuha
it had been 2 months. 2 months, that he was gone due to his wandering but now he was back.
he would do this all the time. come home from a long adventure, spend not even a day with you, before going back out and repeating the same cycle over and over again.
now, when you had first got with him, you knew he was a free spirit and he couldn’t just stay in one place. though longer into the relationship, you realised that even though he claims you’re his reason to keep going in life, he wouldn’t just stop for you once and spend time with you.
you came to realise that you weren’t happy in the relationship. it almost felt like a long distance, even if it was not because you both lived together.
you loved kazuha, a lot, and pushed your feelings aside thinking they were stupid. you, of course, didn’t want this to ruin you relationship so you asked if you could join him in his travels even if short. he answered without hesitation, shaking his head in rejection saying he prefers to be alone. you could feel your breath hitch as you slowly nodded, knowing the feelings and worries you pushed aside are going to come back straight away.
was he maybe rethinking this relationship? maybe he thought you were annoying because you kept bothering him, or maybe he just got tired of you. you sighed heavily, swallowing your feelings down once more before turning back to kazuha, seeing he wasn’t there anymore. you looked around but he was nowhere to be seen, making you disappointed. you just decided to just go home and meet him there when he gets back, hopefully.
as you walked into the house you saw kazuha putting stuff away into a shelf. he looked back at you giving a small smile. “my love, i’m going to travel once again.” he spoke softly. you just gave a smile back nodding, wanting to change the subject so you don’t realise your thoughts again. “so, what did you put into the shelf?”
kazuha raised his eyebrows before turning the shelf around out of eye view. “it’s nothing, don’t worry.” he shrugged it off. you frowned at him as you crossed your arms. “what do you mean nothing?” you quoted your speech. “it’s.. it’s nothing just as i said. please, don’t fret.” kazuha walked up to you and pecked your cheek, though it felt empty. “i will be taking my leave very soon, i’ll see you when i do, my love.”
before you could even protest, the door slammed behind you. you could feel yourself crumble to the floor as you encased your head in your hands. was he hiding something from you? why does he not want to show you? why did he leave so quick and so eager? why does he not want ‘his love’ to join his travels?
you decided to come true to your thoughts, not wanting to shove them down anymore. you know you shouldn’t be feeling like this, the feeling you’ve felt for the last few months, maybe you should just.. leave. it was clear as day that he could go on for months without you, so he wouldn’t really care if it was forever, would he?
your mind travelled to the letters he would send you, used to being filled with love, moving onto simple letters, then dry ones, and then… nothing. since he stopped sending you ones, you decided to send him ones but he never responded to that either, so he must not care too much.
you felt yourself automatically holding back your tears as your breathing became unstable, wobbling yourself up to stand. you slowly moved yourself towards your table where there was paper and pen for when you’d write your letters to him. nodding to yourself, you started to write:
‘dear kazuha,
these past few months have been off for us, and i’m sure you’ve noticed too. we spend small hours together before you leave for months and repeat that routine. you’ve stopped communicating with me and you’re always hiding things from me, never telling me wherever you’re going or what you did. i’ve tried to fix this, to put my thoughts and feelings aside for you but i just can’t.
i’m unhappy in this relationship and i can’t do it anymore, so i will be leaving. i love you, a lot, probably too much for me in this situation as it hurts more. i thought this would work but we both have different wants and we’re two different people. so once you’ve read this letter, i hope you’re not upset, i hope you’re relieved. i hope you feel free to stay wandering instead of remembering you have to come home to something.
i wish you safe travels, forever and more.
love, y/n.’
you didn’t even know you failed to keep your tears in until you saw the bottom of the paper severely damp. you swallowed the forming lump in your throat, throwing the pen somewhere onto the table before turning around and going to pack your things in the bedroom.
after you packed everything you needed and doubled checked, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you’d been holding in. maybe this could be a new change for you. obviously not fully, you knew you’d never get over kazuha, ever, but this could still be a time to focus on you.
you left your keys and the spare keys on the hook as you walked out of the house and slammed the door shut. you had to bite your cheek to stop you from spilling tears outside in the public. though, one last thought of kazuha coming back to the house without you there made you break, having to take a small break sitting against the door before you finally left, not looking back.
kazuha had come back two days later with a surprise for you, he was going to ‘pop the big question’. kazuha knew you were the one and he still does, forever will he be thinking that way.
the reason why he had been gone all those months was because it was a long travel to get to where he needed for the ring. he wanted it to be special, so it was specially customised just for you. a silver band that was engraved with your name going along it, the rest of the empty bits being your favourite crystal.
he had to work far jobs for ages to afford it, making his travels even longer. he always refused your invitations to travel with him so you didn’t find out, or changing the way he wrote in the letters in case he wrote to excitedly, making you suspicious. in the end he just refused to write back to you because he was so close to just asking you to marry him in the letters, giving his all and forcing himself to not write back no matter what.
kazuha took a few deep breaths before turning the door handle to open up the front door. when he walked in he could feel the atmosphere in the house feel different, but quickly shrugged it off to look for you.
when he couldn’t find you he thought you’d be out getting food or socialising, then he saw a letter on the table thinking that was just a note confirming his thoughts. he picked up the piece of paper and started reading it:
‘dear kazuha,
these past few months have been off for us, and i’m sure you’ve noticed too. we spend small hours together before you leave for months and repeat that routine. you’ve stopped communicating with me and you’re always hiding things from me, never telling me wherever you’re going or what you did. i’ve tried to fix this, to put my thoughts and feelings aside for you but i just cant’—
he scrunched up the piece of paper and threw it at the wall, he had read enough. kazuha had felt his breathing feeling heavier, he didn’t mean for this to happen. he was so stupid, getting caught up in the excitement too much to actually realise how you might’ve been feeling.
that’s when something switched inside his brain. that’s why you always asked to join him on travels, to be with him. that’s why you would always beg him to stay just a little longer, to be with him. that’s why you would look sad when he was leaving, because you wanted to be with him.
him, him, him. it was all about him to you, you’d truly loved kazuha and he was so blind to realise just because he didn’t wanna reveal the secret. he was mad at himself, swiftly walking over to the shelf to turn it back around.
laying on the shelves were the empty ring box he was going to place the ring in and your favourite flowers casted into a bouquet. he threw the flowers to the ground, petals flying everywhere, along with the ring. he blinked a lot to put back the tears he felt swelling in his eyes. no, he couldn’t let himself cry. what’s there to be sad about? he was going to get you back, end of story, he was yours and you were his.
maybe he needed to extend his travels just a little to figure out where you’d gone to.
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⌗ this is for the kazuha rerun!! i will unfortunately not be rolling for him because i’m saving up for a scaramouche that’s not even confirmed yet… don’t judge 💀
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cripplecharacters · 2 months
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hello! do you have any advice on writing disabled characters in historical setting? specifically characters, whose diagnosis hadn't been discovered yet (for example I have a character with pots but they live before 1982)
Hi,
I love historical fiction, and know this can be a little tricky, because of course disability of various kinds has always existed and conditions are real before they’re named.
But you have options!
The most important thing, I would say, is describing the aspects of the condition and your character’s feelings and behavior around it (how they manage it, what they notice about it). You can also describe other people’s responses to how they feel and act.
You should definitely describe how your character feels about their condition. Do they wish there were others like them to talk to, do they actually already have a community of people similar to them, or do they wish no one else has what they have? Do they wonder if anyone they know is like them, or think they must be alone? Maybe they feel like their condition not a big deal at all and just an inconvenience, or maybe they feel really hindered by it and it greatly upsets them, or maybe they’re somewhere in between and sometimes get really frustrated and sometimes they feel it’s just a thing that happens.
And of course the answers to all of these will be different depending on your time period—someone with POTS in 1795 will manage their symptoms differently than someone with POTS in 1968, and the same goes for all conditions. But for POTS specifically, without naming it:
For the symptoms you can describe your character noticing that whenever they stand or sit up they feel their heart race and they feel dizzy or faint. They might not know why, but they’ll know how their body reacts.
You can describe what they avoid doing because they’ve noticed it makes them feel worse—maybe they take showers that are less hot, or go out as little as possible when it’s very hot/humid out, or maybe they don’t drink alcohol or coffee. Maybe it’s bad enough they can’t do some sort of work that is expected of them at their home, or their job, or school.
You can describe what they do because it makes them feel better—maybe they drink a lot of water, maybe they buy socks a size smaller because they noticed it makes them feel a little better, maybe they always give themselves an extra half hour to get anything done so they can stand or sit up more slowly. Maybe they take over someone else’s specific work because they can manage that better and trade with them.
As to other character’s reactions, some characters may be positive and always offer your character their arm when they’re standing so they can worry less about fainting. Some might be pretty neutral and just ask them why they never go grab a beer with them. Some might be negative and roll their eyes whenever your character needs extra time or to sit down for a bit.
People with POTS and similar conditions will recognize themselves in your character’s actions and reactions, and it’s very possible that people who have friends or family or people they know with POTS or anything similar will think “oh that’s kind of like what John Doe has.” And even if they don’t, they’ll still have read a realistic and respectful story about someone with a disability.
This goes for any disability, not just POTS. Just swap out the symptoms and ways to manage it and characters’ reactions accordingly.
Something you can choose to do, but you don’t have to do, is add a note at some point (but probably either at the end or the beginning of the story) that your character has what today we would know as POTS.
For an example I’ve seen in real life (not POTS related but about disability in general), I read a book set in the early 20th century in an institution, The Degenerates by J. Albert Mann. Since it’s a different time period, characters are referred to by terms we don’t use anymore at all or not in the same way, and many characters have conditions that we know about today but were not known at all at that time. What the author did was describe the characters’ actions (and thoughts, if they were the POV character), as well as how others reacted to them. At the end there was an appendix describing what each character might have been diagnosed with today, if anything at all (since not all people ended up at asylums because of an actual condition and some were just poor or Othered in some other way).
Thank you for your thoughtful question! I feel like I rarely see characters in historical fiction who have basically any disabilities, but thank you for wanting to create some :)
Good luck!
— Mod Sparrow
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onewildwrites · 7 months
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Please Please Me [Calvin Evans x reader]
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Word count: 3.9k
Summary: You persuade Calvin to spend a little less time at the lab and a lot more time with you.
Warnings: 18+ no minors, smut, masturbation (m), oral (f receiving), brief thoughts of somnophilia, praise kink, brief mentions of breeding kink (but no really because it’s mostly just taking about cum and creampies lol), pet names (sweetheart, honey, little wife), no use of y/n, fem reader, a little fluffy ending!
A/N: This took me an embarrassingly long time to write so I hope you enjoy, and please don’t forget to comment and reblog🫶
Calvin Evans was an incredibly dedicated chemist. He seemed to care more for his work than anything else in the world.
Late nights were almost always spent in his lab when he could be sure his scientific process would not be disturbed, more importantly there would be no Donatti banging on his door asking when his latest experiment would be done.
His commitment to his work is what many (even those who weren’t particularly fond of Evans) would list as one of his greatest strengths.
Not you though.
Definitely not you.
You didn’t want to be misunderstood, you were truly proud of Calvin and his work. He was a brilliant man who deserved every bit of praise he got. You would accompany him to every award ceremony and never grow tired of hearing speech upon speech about what a wonder he was in the scientific community.
But you were getting very tired of spending most nights in your home alone.
Every night for the past month at 1:35am on the dot, you would be awoken by the feeling of the right side of the bed sinking to the weight of his lanky body. He would apologize profusely for waking you so late, and proceed to move to the couch in the living room.
In the beginning you hoped you could at least have a brief moment of alone time with Calvin in your shared morning before he went off to work. But of course he had already left for his early row by the time you opened your eyes.
Even weekends weren’t sacred anymore since moving some of his lab equipment to his home office. Calvin would leave his office when you alerted him dinner was ready, you two would stick to light small talk ( “How’s your research going?” “This is delicious” “Anything interesting in the news lately?” “Have you heard about what happened to Mrs.Jones down the road?”) Cavin would eat quickly, finishing before you were even halfway through your food, thank you for the meal and quickly peck your cheek before going right back to his office.
Like any sane person you were growing impatient with your husbands never ending busy schedule. A woman has needs just like any man does and Calvin should know that very well by now.
Much of your early relationship was spent exploring all the ways you could please each other. After all, Calvin was a scientist and he would reason the best way to find out was to experiment. That meant hours wrapped up in your white sheets, christening every surface of his home, trying things you never would have even fantasized of doing in your wildest dreams.
You missed that time desperately now and you had a plan to get it back.
Calvin was never good at picking up on social cues. Luckily most people thought he was simply pulling their leg when he took a joke or a sarcastic comment seriously. But he knew something had changed with you the moment he stepped into your shared home that Friday night.
He still made sure to close the door with extra caution so as not to wake you, even though he ended up almost constantly waking you when he slunk into bed anyway. Going through his usual routine of removing his sweat soaked running clothes, grabbing a pair of clean pajamas, and jumping into the bathroom for a quick shower.
After thoroughly removing the feeling of grime from his skin he makes his way towards your bedroom rubbing his tired eyes. He knows he has only himself to blame for his recent exhaustion but he’s never been great at putting anything before his work, and that includes sleep.
As he expects there you are sleeping sweetly, your left hand resting gently under your face. No matter how many times he sees you sleep he knows he will never get bored of it.
Calvin was quickly pulled out of his state of adoration when he realized something was off with the usual picture he was used to coming home to. You were sleeping on your stomach with your leg sticking out from the duvet. And Calvin may be downright lousy at picking up social cues but he always noticed a change in his surroundings.
You most certainly never had to worry about Calvin failing to notice a change in your style or a new haircut because he was the first to comment on it. “This new dress looks lovely on you.” he’d say while kissing the exposed bit of your shoulder.
In all the years he had known you, you never once slept on your stomach (it was a deeply inconvenient position for cuddling according to you), and you definitely never let your limbs hang off the bed (some old superstitious fear you had as a child that stuck with you into adulthood).
He decided to investigate further, even if it turned out to just be him reading too much into it.
Striding over to your side of the bed he looked for anything else that might be out of place. Your breathing was normal, the book on your bedside table was laying in the same place you put it all other nights, and your nightly glass of water sat empty. He was about to scold himself for being overdramatic when his eyes caught the lack of fabric on your shoulders.
Maybe you purchased a new sleeveless nightgown, Calvin tried to reason with himself. Maybe it was just a particularly low neckline or perhaps the fabric matched your skin tone so well he just wasn’t seeing it, after all the room was dark. Yes, that was possible.
Of course he couldn’t leave it at that - oh why didn’t he leave it at that and go right to bed? “You’re being ridiculous,” he scolded himself like a child in a whisper. “Just take a quick look, there’s no harm.”
Carefully he reached for where the blanket met your exposed back, making sure not to graze your skin, as much as he wanted to.
Sure enough there it was, you, completely exposed to him. The sides of your breasts pushing out against the mattress and your round ass on full display. “Shit…” the words fell out of Calvins mouth before he could stop them. He felt like a stupid teenager getting his first glance at a nude woman all over again.
Thoughts of temptation filled his mind. What would happen if he did touch you? If his hands slipped down towards the space between your thighs. Would you wake suddenly furious that he would ever wake you from your peaceful sleep? What about encouraging him to join you and take off his towel?
Of course he wouldn’t ever be sure of the real answer as Calvin could not bring himself to touch you while unconscious. It would be downright ungentlemanly.
He shook his head to clear his mind of the thoughts.
Calvin was lifting the edge of the duvet to cover you back up when you began to move. Panic filled him as he froze completely, fearing what you would think if you caught him ogling you in your sleep. Luckily enough for him your eyes did not open, but something unexpected did come out of your mouth.
At first Calvin thought he was hearing things, maybe the exhaustion of all these long nights in the lab were finally getting to him. Although that was a strong possibility in his mind there was no doubt the noises he was hearing were coming from you. Noises he was all too familiar with. Soft, breathy, moans.
This was not a sound Calvin knew you could make in your sleep. So similar to the sounds you let out when he was on top of that if he closed his eyes he would swear that’s where he was. While being swept up by his own imagination he nearly missed the words you spoke. “Mmph…Calvin…”
That was the straw that broke the camel's back. He could no longer ignore the growing bulge under the towel wrapped around his waist. Dropping the blanket back over you, he rushed back to the bathroom.
Leaning against the sink Calvin ripped the towel from around him, freeing his hard cock. Bringing his right hand up to his mouth he spit a glob of saliva into the center of his palm. Wasting no time at all he reached down and grasped the base of his throbbing length causing a gasp to escape him. “Fuck,” He moaned, his voice trembing with arousal. Calvin couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this desperate for a release.
Reminiscing about the last time he had gotten you all to himself Calvin began working his hand over his cock. The way you bit your bottom lip when you were close to orgasm, how soft your ass felt in his hands, or how you begged him so sweetly to cum inside of you. “Oh honey,” he groaned with teeth clenched. The more he thought about you the closer he got to the edge.
Keeping his arm still Calvin started bucking his hips forward, fucking his fist while picturing you on your knees below him. Your big doe eyes looking up at him with an innocent glint was his weakness. How was someone even able to look so naive with a cock between their lips? “That’s it, God you're so good to me,” he could no longer hold back.
Picking up his pace Calvins mind went blank, only the sensation of his impending orgasm could be felt. A jumbled mix of curses sprung from his lips as he watched the cum shoot from the tip of his cock onto his fist.
Calvin remained silent in the bathroom, the only sound to be heard was the heavy panting noise of him trying to catch his breath. After a few beats he decided it would be best to clean up the mess he had made, put his pajamas on and get out of there as soon as possible. God forbid you wake up for a late night bathroom trip and see him like this.
Walking back out to the living room he began to wonder how loud he had been, did he wake you with his erratic moans? Choosing to take a quick peak and make sure he hadn’t embarrassed himself further he gracefully nudged your bedroom door open a sliver. Clearly the universe was looking out for old Calvin because there you lay, sleeping soundly.
Letting out a breath of relief Calvin moved back out towards his bed tonight – the couch.
If only Calvin had stayed watching you a little longer he would have seen the sly smirk spreading across your lips.
Everything goes according to plan.
The sun peeked through the blinds, shining directly onto his eyelids when he woke in the morning. He had been too distracted last night to set his usual 6am alarm but he welcomed the extra rest. Honestly after the night he had Calvin was surprised he slept at all.
Figuring there was no time to waste if he still wanted to go on his morning row, Calvin sat upright on the couch, wiping the sleep from his eyes. While rubbing his eyes Calvins nose picked up an array of once familiar scents: eggs, toast, bacon, and…was that pancakes? It had been so long since you last cooked breakfast for him –again Calvin knew that was completely his fault.
Cavin was starting to forget what your warm meals tasted like, becoming accustomed to eating the cold leftovers whenever he returned home. Perhaps he could skip the row, just this one time…
Strolling towards the kitchen with a smile on his face Calvin nearly tripped himself when he caught sight of you. Standing as he expected in front of the stove top, humming along to whatever song was playing in your head while carefully flipping pancakes. What he did not expect was the lingerie you were wearing while doing it. He’d obviously lost track of time while eyeing you as you noticed him, slack jaw and all.
You fully turned towards him with a smile, “Good morning sleepyhead.”
How you wish you had a camera near you now. The look on Calvins face was priceless. You had never seen him so stunned before, and that includes the first time you agreed to go on a date with him.
“M-morning,” he stuttered, clearly trying (and failing) to fix his uncouth expression.
His gaze wandered across the outfit before him. A light pink set, silk top decorated with a delicate bow in the center of the chest, short ruffled bloomers, completed with a transparent tulle robe.
You turned back towards the stove. “Did you sleep well? I missed you last night. It’s always so lonely in bed without you,” you said, exaggerating the sadness in your voice.
That seemed to snap Calvin back to his normal self, “I’m sorry honey, you know I just worry about waking you up,” the genuine concern in his voice almost made you feel bad for playing it up so much…almost.
“Well you woke me up anyway, so why didn’t you just join me, hm?” You had a feeling you could see the panic on his face without even looking back.
A hitch in his breathing and a sudden step towards you let you know you were spot on. “When exactly did I wake you?” he questioned.
“Oh you know, when you were playing with your cock in the bathroom,” you stated it simply like you were telling him something he already knew. “I have to say I was very disappointed you didn’t invite me Calvin, you know I hate to think of all the cum you wasted without me there to clean it up.” You shut the burner on the stove off, moving the final pancake off the side with the rest.
Finished with the task at hand you looked back at Calvin. No longer the anxious face you were anticipating, no this was a look you recognized instantly, arousal.
Calvin licked his lips, “You dirty little minx,” wrapping his hands around your waist he swiftly pulled you towards him. His hot breath fanning across your face, “You planned all this out didn’t you?”
Batting your lashes at him you whipped out your best virginal response, “I have no idea what you could possibly be accusing me of Dr.Evans.”
He tilted his head to the side, “Are you sure about that?” His hands were now grazing further down your back causing an involuntary shiver to run over you. “So you didn’t sleep naked last night hoping it would drive me crazy? How about moaning in your ‘sleep’ expecting me to get hard?”
You shook your head at every accusation. Watching Calvin grow more impatient with your antics was only egging you on.
He let out a huff, “No? Not even wearing this skimpy thing to cook breakfast in?”
“How do you know this isn’t what I usually cook breakfast in? It’s not like you’re ever around when I do it anyway.” The facade you had put on dropped quickly.
It was clear a lightbulb went off in Calvins head, “Is that what this is about? Have I been neglecting my pretty little wife's needs?” He moved his head into the crook of your neck, his nose pressed against your pulse.
Now it was your turn to stutter, “M-maybe…” Your eyes closed at the feeling of him being so close to you.
His lips moved to graze your neck, making his words jumbled, “Well I think I know just how to apologize for it.”
You were about to ask how when suddenly Calvins lips crashed onto yours, pushing every coherent thought from your mind. Caught off guard you forget to move your lips with his. He pulled away briefly to let out a hoarse whisper, “Kiss me,” The command was so gentle it seemed almost like a question.
You could never deny him of what he wanted. Moving back into the kiss you meet him with equal lust, like you both had been deprived of touch for years. God you missed this, the soft groans passing by your lips as your tongues melted against each other. You noticed a growing hardness pressed to your upper thigh. “Getting excited over a little kiss Calvin?” you teased. Your forehead rested against his, nudging his nose with yours.
“Can you blame me? I mean look at you,” Calvins right hand moved up from its place on your back, undoing the tie in the middle of your robe. You shook it from off your shoulders, letting it fall on the kitchen floor. Calvin took a step back to get a better look at you, making you whine at the loss of contact. “So perfect for me,” he said, like there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that it was true.
“What are you doing?” You asked as he sunk slowly onto his knees.
His hands pulled at the back of your thighs, squeezing the soft skin. “I’m thanking my beautiful wife for putting up with me.”
Your eyes rolled at his dramatics. “Cavin I d-” the words ripped from you before they were even out as his lips moved to the inner part of your thigh. Dragging the delicate skin of his lips across you, your eyelids fluttered shut once more. “I should have known you would need me to take care of you,” he admitted.
The petals of his lips roaming higher up your thighs he shifted you so that your legs were flush against his torso. “Don’t you sweetheart, you need me to take care of you?” Although his tone was clearly mocking it still made you feel warm inside.
“Mhm, I do I do, please,” you nodded dumbly.
His smile pressed against your skin, “How cruel of me to ever leave my sweet wife and her needy pussy all alone.” Calvins right hand reached up to the center of your bloomers, thumb grazing over your clit.
“F-uck,” you gasped, dropping your hands to grip the base of Calvin's hair.
“You’re worse off than I thought you were,” he joked. Wasting no more time teasing you Calvin lowered your bloomers, pulling them with his teeth. Your eyes sprung open to watch him work.
Biting his lower lip Calvin admired the wetness dripping from you. “Miss me?”
“Yes, God Calvin Please,” you begged looking down at him with desperation flowing from you.
His eyes met your, “You don't need to beg for me anymore honey, I’m home now.” keeping eye contact with you Calvin kissed your aching clit. Gradually escalating from sweet pecks to open mouth licks you could feel your knees lock below you. Calvin shifted your left leg over his shoulder to drown himself inside your cunt, licking from your clit to your opening.
Moans falling from your lips before you even knew what you were saying, “Yes, fuck you’re so good Calvin,” you swore he always looked his best under you, even if your eyes were having trouble focusing at the moment.
Your praise was the only kind that Calvin cared about you recalled him telling you, and now that was obvious to you. Your words clearly have an effect on his performance. Encouraging him to lick and suck your clit with vigor. His moans vibrate your core pushing you further towards the edge of your impending orgasm.
Withdrawing his face from your pulsating cunt, Calvin lays his face on your thigh. Hastily replacing his tongue with his fingers and continuing the same motions. Seemingly mesmerized by his own actions Calvin stares at your pussy while speaking to you, “Yeah? You like when I pay attention to you?” His words came out wobbly like he was the one being pleasured.
Using all the strength you could muster you tried to really look at him like this. Face flush red leading down to his neck, your slick covering most of his chin, that one vein popping out of his temple. Never before Calvin have you seen a man look so determined to please.
“Mhm Yes, God Calvin, I love it when you pay attention to me,” you groaned.
“Good because I’ll be doing a lot more of it now.” going back in for another taste, he is like a man possessed. Calvin has always been an attentive man, inside and outside the bedroom and it was clear he was trying to prove something to you at this moment.
“Fuck I’m so close Calvin,” you warned.
He broke away from your pussy for a second time, “Yeah, you gonna come all over my face honey?”
You could no longer keep your eyes open, squeezing them shut tight. You wanted to say something- anything in response but the words failed you, opting to nod your head quickly.
“Do it sweetheart, come for me, please,” he coaxed, playing with your clit at the same steady pace he had been previously.
That was all it took for you to come, nearly collapsing into Calvin's arms. He held you upright as your orgasm overtook you. His praise continued as you came down from your high, “You're such a good little wife for me, that’s it honey, come just like that.”
After a few moments calming your breathing you decided to be brave and attempt to move on your own. You joined Calvin down on the floor, sitting in his lap. Letting out a sigh as you came back to your senses, “Fuck me.”
“I would but I'm afraid I may have gotten a little overly excited,” Calvin laughed. You took notice of what he was referring to, a large wet patch on the crotch of his pants.
“Well I’m glad that took care of itself because I don’t know I would have had any energy to help you with it, you drained me.” You jested, but really you weren’t sure your brain was working properly enough to think, let alone suck Calvin off.
The both of you sat in a peaceful moment of silence after that, fixing the others' wrecked appearance. You realized that these were the moments you missed most when Calvin left, simply basking in each other's presence - even if nothing extraordinarily romantic was happening.
“You know when you want me to spend more time with you all you have to do is ask, right?” he broke the silence while brushing your hair behind your ear.
“You know it would be a lot easier to ask you if you weren’t constantly away working or rowing, right?” you asked with the same cadence as him.
That made him giggle, “Fair point, I promise not to let my neurotic ways keep me away from you ever again.” You planted a quick peck in his lips at that, delighted to hear him say it. “In the meantime is there anything else I can do to make it up to you?”
You pretended to be deep in thought about his question, furrowing your brows together and tapping your pointer finger on your chin. “How about sitting down and eating the breakfast I’ve worked so hard on with me?”
Calvin moved from underneath you, causing a frown to appear on your face. He stood up and reached a hand down, inviting you to grab it and pull yourself up. “You don’t have to ask me twice,” he smiled, pulling up two chairs to the dining table.
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