#they will look completely different. promise you that.
Text
Breathe.
minors dni. spencer reid x fem!reader.
angst (drowning). soft confessions. office sex.
after a brush with death, long pent-up feelings are released.
do not translate or repost.
The small disused space was busy with piled boxes, an archiving chore put aside for an unspecified future day. It made the forgotten room a perfect meeting place when the office had cleared out for the night.
You saved it only for the especially hard days.
The days you needed to see him alone.
He knocks softly, like you aren't the only two left on the floor of the building at this late hour – like he doesn't know you're waiting just for him.
You wring the hem of your cardigan in your hands as he enters, as he closes the door gently behind him and twists the small lock – just to be safe.
Then you're both still. Quiet. Waiting for the other to speak first.
Your lips part. You'd planned to be the first to speak, but instead you suck in an unsteady breath. You're not in control. Not at all.
"That bad?" he asks, taking one big but hesitant step towards you.
Bad? Bad wasn't the right word. He'd meant it like you'd had a rough day in the office. Like you could sleep it off. Like it was just another heavy case and you'd come out a little worn but soon ready for the next.
He'd died.
Your eyes burn with unshed tears.
"Hey," he soothes, closing the distance between you. "I'm fine, really. Coughed up a bit of pool water, that's all. I've got the all clear," he offers you a lopsided smirk, "despite how bacteria ridden the average chlorinated pool is. I don't recommend drinking the water. If you can help it."
You blink up at him as one tear breaks free, spilling over your lower lid and down your cheek.
A complete lack of any minds eye spared you from the image of him laid out on the cold tiles — soaking wet and completely still.
Aphantasia, he'd explained to you one day a few months earlier. A woefully understudied characteristic of some people that meant an inability to visualise.
You've never been more grateful for your deficiency. It was different for him; his memories. Spencer could see them all. You often wondered how he coped.
"You drowned," you whisper into the dark room. "You were dead."
"My heart never stopped, I–"
"Spencer," you interrupt, heart racing. "You weren't breathing. You were so still and I thought I wouldn't—"
"You saved me," he says softly. "I'm okay." He reaches up to your temple and ever so gently brushes some of your hair off your forehead. It's a completely pointless gesture, apart from being the final straw, that is.
The dam bursts as his finger brushes your skin, feather-light. "I can't do it," you gasp. "I can't. I can't do it."
"Please. Please, don't cry." He pulls you against him. "I hate when you cry."
You bury your face in his neck, wetting his warm skin with fresh tears.
"You won't have to do it ever again," he says, misunderstanding your meaning entirely. "No bodies of water for me, promise."
You shake your head, too busy choking on tears to verbally correct him.
"Everything's fine," he soothes. "Ple-ase." The last word comes out a little broken, a crack in his voice splintering the vowels in the middle.
You pull back from him, enough to look up into his sad eyes. "I didn't mean... I mean't..."
His thumbs wipe at your cheeks.
You suck in a shaky breath. "I mean't... I can't feel all this anymore. I'm so afraid." Another shaky inhale. "Every day. Anytime you aren't near me..."
His hands drop from your face. Confused. This was his confused face. He was attempting to interpret.
"I can't make it go away," you whisper. "I love- I love you and every day you might..." He's blinking at you, a lock of wavy hair falling over one of his eyes. You need him to speak now, take some of the weight off you. You're so tired. "I'm afraid," you confess again. "You can't do that again. Please. You can't–"
"You love me?"
You pause, processing his simple words. Then, "You didn't know?"
He blinks. Again, "You... You love me?"
"Yes," you breathe. A release. "Of course. I'm in love with you. I thought you... how could you not know? I—"
"You've never told me."
He says it simply. Like that's the only way he could possibly have known. You didn't tell him, therefore how could he ever interpret your blatant lovesick adoration as anything other than friendly consideration.
Everyone else knew. The entire team had known about your crush from the earliest days. Some of them had known before you had figured it out yourself.
But not him. Apparently.
"I'm sorry," is what you find yourself saying, eyes burning again. You drop your eyes to the floor. "I'd really.... I'd like to stay friends. Please." You pick at a loose thread in your cardigan, a consequence of your nervous habit. "I need you, I think. I think I need you."
Every move he makes after the last word of your confession leaves your lips is incredibly delicate; he's slow and almost cautious as he hooks his fingers under your chin.
He looks sad when your eyes meet his. He's doing that thing that always leave your chest aching. They're big and dark and so, so full of feeling. "Don't cry," he whispers again.
You nod, like you have any control at all. Anything to stop the sad eyes.
Then he's leaning down. His lips ghost against your cheek, just enough to collect a tear. Then the other cheek. Just a brush of soft lips to wet skin. Then he's ghosting over your lips. His final word is so quiet you almost miss it. It's so quiet you aren't entirely sure he meant it for your ears at all.
"Please."
His lips are wet against yours when he finally closes that tiny little gap. It's too much for your entirely overwhelmed and exhausted mind to process properly. Your fingers drop the hem of your cardigan, suddenly lax and completely free of any responsibility.
His hand rests at your lower back. You're grateful for the support, for the grounding. You're not entirely sure that you'd stay standing otherwise.
He's kissing you. Which means... something. It means something that you'll spend many hours thinking about... some other time. Some time when he's not kissing you. Right now, right now you think you'll just think about the way he feels. Or maybe the tiny sound he makes when he steps into you, like he can somehow get closer. Like you weren't sharing a single breath.
You're half convinced you might wake at any moment. Like this might be some fucked up dream your brain has concocted to contrast the cold kiss you'd been forced to share hours earlier as you'd forced oxygen into his lungs.
No.
No, he's too real; too warm and solid. He presses you against the edge of the desk. It cuts into the backs of your thighs.
You're awake.
He releases your lips only to pull you firmly against him, his arms wrapping around you tight. It's a desperate sort of hug. One you might give a loved one after a long separation... or a close call.
You lift your arms to join him, to add an extra layer of security to the embrace—lest someone try and pull you apart.
His lips press into your neck as he buries his face into you. Closer, the action screams. You understand the feeling entirely.
"You love me, too?" you mumble against his skin.
His head moves as he hums. Yes. He loves you.
He loves you.
You grasp at his shirt, the stiff fabric of the dress shirt crumpling in your fingers as you attempt to get a firm hold. You just think you've managed a secure grip when he's tugging you back and pressing his lips to yours again.
It's different this time. Desperate. You understand that, too. Desperate is disorganised. Desperate is irrational. Desperate is messy.
Messy is fine.
Messy is wet kisses and marks on your neck. Messy is the noise the lamp makes when it hits the floor. Messy is the way his hands tug at your cardigan and grip your thighs when he finally has them bare.
Messy is nice.
He's halfway over you eventually, using the desk to lay you out beneath him. "This okay?" he gasps between kisses. "You're okay?"
"Mm," you hum into his mouth. "Yeah. Yeah. I love you."
His lips leave yours in a lingering sort of way, like neither of you are willingly to release the other. But still, he manages it. "We shouldn't do this here," he says, a little breathless. His fingers press into your thighs as he says it.
"But I want to."
He looks at you like he's calculating, interpreting. You know you must look a mess. Your lips feel a little tingly with the nips he's given you. That's something you didn't expect from him. You'd always imagined his kisses to be gentle—sweet and soft.
His eyes drop to your lips like he's heard your thoughts. "Yeah?" he breathes. "You really... you really want to?"
"Please."
His jaw clenches once before he's falling over you, his body weight pressing you into the wood beneath you.
His lips brush against your neck when he speaks next. "Anything you want," he mutters as his fingers trace up your inner thigh.
By the time he finally presses himself inside you, you're on the brink of tears again. You're lost, you realise as he whimpers into your neck. Everything depends on him. You may as well crawl into his chest and make a home there. You're reliant on his survival in the same way you're reliant on your own heart beating.
He whimpers again as you clench around him. "Please," he gasps on an uneven breath. You're not sure what he's asking for. You curl your fingers in his hair. He could be asking for anything at all and you're sure you'd give it to him. Anything at all.
165 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mic'd - CC
Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader
Summary: You forget that your are mic'd up during practice (based on THIS request)
Warnings: ADHD reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Sweetbans Masterlist
AN: Please don't scold me if I didn't get everything right. I tried my best, I promise.
Your mind never stops going a mile a minute. You were diagnosed with ADHD when you were a kid, it was something that your parents had to adapt to when it came to raising you. It was when you were in 4th grade when they decided to put you into sports. You started as a swimmer but your parents soon realized you were much better on land. That is when they put you in basketball and it just clicked for you. When you picked up a ball and began shooting, everything else began to make sense. It did a really good job of keeping your mind and hands busy on a singular objective.
You were put on a club and travel team when you went into middle school and continued playing through high school. It opened many doors for you including playing basketball in college. You toured a handful of schools and finally settled on Iowa.
Your freshman year was a huge adjustment as it was the first time living away from home. It took some major adjustments but you ultimately got there. The change to college classes was one of the hardest changes you faced. You were always struggling to keep your mind focused on one assignment when you had like 20 others to do at all times. It often resulted in you starting one, picking up another, and then trying to start a third before either of the first two were completed.
One of the girls on your team became your saving grace and one of your best friends. Kate had become someone who helped keep you grounded when the world was spinning and you could not be more grateful. Your friendship with her has helped you navigate the transition into college classes and playing college ball. She was always one to help keep you on task. The two of you have come up with a system to keep your mind focused when it feels like you aren't moving fast enough or don't feel like you have the control your mind needs.
Kate is also the one who was secretly working on getting you and Caitlin together. She noticed how both you and Caitlin would act around each other and took it upon herself to see two of her best friends and teammates come together in what she believed to be a perfect match. One thing led to another and you and Caitlin had begun dating towards the end of freshman year.
When the two of you got together - you decided it to keep it between the team. It wasn't that either of you was necessarily hiding your relationship, you were just both content with the world not knowing. You told the people that mattered in your lives and that was enough for the two of you. Also, nobody questioned it considering how much time the team spent together and how much time the two of you spent with Kate. To anyone looking in, the three of you were like three peas in a pod.
That leads us to today. The media team was doing a series where they were joining different sports practices and putting mics on some of the players. You had watched the series and thought seeing some of the school's all-star players behind the scenes was so fun. You were honored when they came up to you and asked if you would be the mic'd up player of the week.
They get you all set up and you are ready to go.
"Testing, testing," you say holding the mic that was pinned in your shirt up to your mouth. You then look at the camera. "We are here live from Carver-Hawkeye arena with yours truly."
You point to your number on your practice jersey and head into a huddle with the team to kick off practice.
While you are in the huddle you nudge Kate.
"Yo Kate, guess who is mic'd up for today's practice," you ask her and give the camera a knowing look. She laughs.
"Bro, I helped you put the mic on." She says and you let out an 'oh ya'.
"Do you have anything to say to the Hawkeye fans who are watching this?" You ask, pulling your shirt to catch what she is saying.
"You are too much," she begins and you hit her arm. "I would say sorry you have to listen to this one for the whole practice." She says and runs away to begin a drill.
You feign hurt and hold your hand over your heart as if what Kate just said broke you. Not two seconds later you are bouncing over to Caitlin and putting your arm around her waist.
"You ready to crush this practice babe?" You ask as she is finishing up stretching. Before she can answer you continue, "Your legs are looking extra nice today. I likey." She just laughs.
"If I just lift this a little," you say lifting the bottom part of her shorts to reveal her thigh a little more. "The team would see those little love bites you like so much." Caitlin slaps your hand and yells your name. You laugh and let her go, going to start a drill.
During the drill, you keep making comments about how fast you are and how no one can catch you.
"Speed." You say with laser focus as you are the next one to jump in the rotation. "I am speed."
Every time Caitlin does a good job you are caught yelling something along the lines of 'that a way babe' or 'that's my girl'.
During practice, Kate kept giving you weird looks but you think nothing of it.
During one of the water breaks, you walk up to Caitlin who is sipping her water. You lean against the wall.
"So, you come here often?" You ask in a flirtatious tone.
She pushes your chest and rolls her eyes. You come up behind her, wrapping your arms around her, and spin her around.
"You love me," you say as you put her down.
"You know I do," she says, kissing your forehead.
The rest of the practice is filled with little comments to your girl on how good she looks and how great of a job she is doing.
"Have you seen those edits that people are making of pigeons?” You ask one of your other teammates.
"What are you talking about?" they say back with a laugh.
"You know the ones where they draw like stick figure arms on them while they are walking around," you say. "Imagine being a bird and not having arms or hands."
You then stick your hands in your practice jersey and walk around. Someone throws a ball at you and you just let it hit you. It bounces away from you.
"Caitlin! Caity! CC!" You say running up to her with your arms still in your jersey. "Would you still love me if I was a pigeon?" You ask her.
"Of course, babe. You would be my pigeon," she says laughing her ass off.
"Good," you say. "Because you would be mine regardless of the animal you were.”
Not ten minutes later you are back in a drill.
"Oh ya, I got this," you say to yourself as you are going up for a layup. You flip it with your left hand and it banks in. "Money!" You yell and run to the back of the line.
As practice comes to a close, the team is scrimmaging. You go up to Kate and she reminds you of a very key detail you forgot about during practice.
"So, how was being mic'd up?" She asks and your eyes go wide, finding the camera that has been following you around the entirety of practice.
"Shit-fuck!" You whisper as you remember all the things you said during practice. "SHOOT - FUDGE" you yell remembering this was going to be on the media team's Youtube page.
You facepalm yourself pretty hard causing a nice slap sound to echo in the gym.
Caitlin runs up to you removing your hand from your face and kissing the place you just slapped.
"Don't slap yourself that hard babe," she says examining the slightly pink mark developing on your right eye and forehead.
"I fuc-messed up," you say and you point at the cameras.
Caitlin turns and Kate just stands there laughing.
Caitlin joins in on the laughing and brings you into her side, squeezing you and kissing your temple.
"Ehh, it was bound to happen sooner or later," she says.
After practice, you thank the media team for choosing you and you head back to your apartment with Kate and Caitlin.
"I can't believe I forgot about being mic'd up. I am so dumb,” you say as you crash on the couch. Your girlfriend comes and sits next to you, pulling your legs onto her lap.
"Don't worry about it babe - no one is going to care." She says rubbing your legs.
"Well, I don't know about that..." Kate says as she passes her phone to you.
You and Caitlin look at it and both of your jaws drop. The media team posted it and it already had 7,000 views. You scroll down to the comments and see people have attached links to their edits. You click on one and it takes you down a rabbit hole of edits that were already created shipping you and Caitlin.
"This is crazy," you say and hide your face.
Caitlin just laughs and continues to rub your legs.
"I think it's cute," she says with a smile.
"I royally messed up." You say.
"Hey," your girlfriend pulls you out of your thoughts, which she knows are going faster than you can comprehend. "If I would love you as a pigeon, I will love you through this, okay?" She says and lifts your face to meet hers.
"Okay," you say and lean in to give her a kiss.
AN: I would lowkey be the best mic'd up person out there. The thoughts that go through my brain sometimes are epic. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! And as always, thank you for your live and support 🤍
#caitlin clark#caitlin clark imagine#caitlin clark x reader#caitlin clark concepts#caitlin clark masterlist#iowa hawkeyes
270 notes
·
View notes
Text
A New Man
Colin Bridgerton x Reader
Masterlist - Join My Taglist!
Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)
Fandom: Bridgerton
Summary: Colin has had feelings for his best friend for some time now, and has decided his new skills in charm and flirting are the perfect way to win her over. He is unfortunately very mistaken.
Word Count: 4,713
Category: Angst, Fluff, Humor
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
"This is by far the best part of these society events," mused Benedict, one of my best friends, as the two of us perused the dessert table. "Sometimes it even makes putting up with all the marauding mamas worth it."
I laughed and picked up a delious looking cupcake.
"The mamas must be truly terrible this season if the food only sometimes makes them worth putting up with."
Benedict sighed. "You have no idea."
I nudged him with my shoulder, smiling as we stepped away from the dessert table together.
"Well, you have no need to worry, Benedict. As long as I am unattached, I am more than happy to act as a shield for you, especially when society dictates you must find a partner and dance."
"Thank you. You are a true friend. I know I can always count on-"
"Colin!" I turned to grin sheepishly at Benedict in the wake of my outburst and found him staring at me with a mocking, raised eyebrow. But I couldn't quite bring myself to care, since I'd just seen my absolute best friend in the world, Colin Bridgerton, standing across the lawn chatting with a group of ladies.
He'd left England this summer for another lengthy international trip, and I'd missed him terribly while he'd been gone. He looked different now, too, a little more sure of himself and wearing a style that had clearly come from somewhere on the continent rather than from here. And if my heart raced a little at the sight of him, well, that could easily be chalked up to excitement at the prospect of seeing a friend. I couldn't keep a smile off my face at the sight of him, even as I turned back to Benedict and found him with crossed arms and doubly raised eyebrows.
"When were you going to tell me that Colin had returned?" I demanded, completely ignoring Benedict's judgey look and barely managing to keep my voice at a socially acceptable level. Benedict just sighed and rolled his eyes.
"It is why I came over here in the first place, but then you distracted me with talks of friendship and cupcakes. And now I see it was all a lie, as you are clearly about to abandon me to the whims of this social event to go rush over and talk to my brother."
"Sorry, Benedict," I said, giving him a grin. "But I saw you throughout the summer. It has been much too long since I last saw Colin, so he takes precedence for the day. But I promise you I will come to your aid if you find yourself cornered by the mamas, or any other dangerous creature roaming the society grounds."
Benedict snorted, but I didn't give him the opportunity for a comeback as I turned back to Colin and walked quickly across the gravel paths, the smile growing on my face the closer I got to him. He didn't notice me as I approached, wrapped up in conversation with the handful of ladies in front of him, and my smile grew even more at the thought of his face when he finally caugh sight of me.
"...will be fighting over you," I heard Colin saying as I walked up to join the group. "I cannot compete."
All the ladies in the circle giggled, giving me perfect cover for my smile as I came to a stop in front of Colin. He turned to face me, a beaming smile on his face, then froze a bit as his eyebrows shot up when he realized who I was.
"Lady Y/L/N!" he said, the shock melting back into his charming smile. "What a pleasure it is to have you join us."
"Mister Bridgerton, what a pleasure it is to have you back in England with us."
Colin dipped his head, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a roguish smile before he returned his gaze to me.
"Believe me, Lady Y/L/N, the pleasure here is all mine."
Rather than the earnest excitement I'd been expecting, Colin's demeanor and voice dripped with a slick charm I didn't recognize. I'd been expecting his usual earnest, genuine emotion, not... this. I gave Colin a little frown of confusion, but quickly let my expression return to normal as he returned to addressing our entire group. He had an energy about him that I couldn't quite place, but it was much different than the Colin I'd gotten to know so well before he left. Still, we were in public. Neither of us were allowed to be anywhere near as effusive and close as we would've been in a more private setting.
"We were just discussing the season," Colin said, including me seamlessly in the conversation I'd joined between him and the other ladies. "Truly, it is amazing to me that all of your dance cards are not already full of suitors."
All the ladies around me giggled, hiding behind their fans and fluttering their eyelashes at Colin. I just stared at him, letting my brow furrow again as I watched my friend. He met my eyes, a smooth smile on his face and his eyes roaming me with an interest and flirtation they'd never had before. If Colin had looked at me like that when I'd last seen him, my heart would've started doing backflips. But his new demeanor made the gesture seem much less sincere, and much more shallow. I let my frown deepen.
"So..." I started, trying to clear the air of whatever strange energy seemed to be lurking here. "Mister Bridgerton, tell us of your travels. You sent so few letters this time, I have simply been dying to hear about everything you saw and did."
Colin flashed me a brilliant smile that didn't totally reach his eyes.
"This time, my stories from abroad are not suitable for such tender young ladies." Everyone around us giggled into their fans again, but Colin's eyes never left mine. "Were I to tell you even the tiniest adventure, well... I'd be forced to marry you."
He delivered the final few words with dramatic flourish, as if expecting for them to have some groundshaking impact. And with the way he stared at me with a simmering gaze, the words clearly intended to make every lady in earshoot swoon, he accomplished his goal. I couldn't hold back a snort of laughter, which I quickly hid as a cough behind my fan.
Colin looked shocked when I glanced up at him, but I still couldn't keep another laugh from bubbling up. He was being so ridiculous, so arrogant and flirting with everyone in sight like he was God's gift to the women of England, and I truly couldn't take him seriously this way.
I cleared my throat and straightened back up, keeping it together just enough as I faced Colin and the other ladies, giving each of them a shallow curtsey.
"Forgive me. I think... something in the air, it must have gotten to me. Excuse me, please."
With that, I turned on my heel and didn't look back. I walked quickly across the garden, seeking out and immediately finding Benedict among the crowd once again, hovering by some shrubbery in an attempt to hide from the ladies and their mothers. I sped up to reach him, the giggling smile returning to my face as I approached.
Benedict must've heard me coming, because at the sound of laughter in a semi-high pitched register he turned on his heel and started moving in the other direction without looking to see the origin of the sound. I walked faster, until I was close enough to call out to him without drawing undue attention.
"Relax, Benedict, it's just me!"
His shoulders slumped as he stopped and turned to face me, relief written in every line of his face. After a moment, however, his expression changed to one of confusion.
"What are you doing back here so soon?" he asked. "I thought you would spend at least the next hour with Colin, catching up on all his travels and making every eligible lady here incredibly jealous of the two of you."
"Well, I planned to catch up with him, but... Benedict, you will never believe what he said." Benedict raised an eyebrow, so I glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then took a step forward and lowered my voice all the same. Laughing about Colin with his brother was one thing, but I didn't want anyone in the rest of the Ton talking behind his back. "He said he couldn't possibly tell me his stories from abroad, because they weren't 'suitable for tender young ladies'."
Benedict scoffed. "Truly?"
"Truly! Benedict, he's come back from abroad strutting around like some peacock, as though he is God's gift to eligible young women everywhere. You know I love him, as you do, but... I cannot take him seriously with his new attitude. I do not think I could if I tried."
Benedict smiled and shook his head, staring over my shoulder, presumably at Colin. Then he turned back to me.
"Did he seem to be directing his newfound charm at anyone in particular?"
I frowned. "No, not that I noticed. It seemed to be more like buckshot, just aiming with broad strokes at everyone in range. Why? Are you joining the side of the mamas in trying to help your brother find a match?"
"No," Benedict sighed, sounding truly tired. "Simply trying to guague exactly how long I may have left before I am the only eligible Bridgerton son for the mamas to focus on."
I laughed. "Do not worry, Benedict. I think you have some time yet."
Benedict didn't respond, but I thought I heard him mumble something into his drink that sounded like, "we'll see". When I raised an eyebrow at him and prepared a question, however, he quickly changed the subject, and I let him. We spent most of the rest of the afternoon together, hiding out from societal obligations and occasionally laughing about how strange his siblings could be sometimes.
After the garden party, I didn't get much of a chance to speak with Colin again until Lady Danbury's ball. He'd approached me once or twice when we'd seen each other in passing at other events, but we'd always been interrupted by other ladies, and Colin seemed suddenly incapable of interacting with me without his base layer of extreme, over the top charm. I would've felt bad for how little time I'd spent with him since he'd returned home, but every time I'd tried to ask him about his travels or how he was doing, he turned it into a truly ridiculous line of flirting, the likes of which we used to make fun of other suitors for before his most recent summer travels.
As a result, when Lady Danbury's ball rolled around, I didn't seek Colin out the way I would've last season. Instead, I found Eloise, Benedict, and even Francesca for a while when she clearly needed a break from her first season out in society. I danced with a few of the men who were tolerable, and otherwise enjoyed my time at the refreshments table and talking to people I knew. Colin didn't seek me out for the first half of the ball, either, so when I heard a familiar voice trying to get my attention after I'd found a spot along the wall for a bit of a break from the rest of the party, it was more of a surprise than it should've been.
"Y/N."
I turned around with a smile to find Colin standing behind me, a grin on his own face. We were out of earshot of the rest of the party, so we could dispense with some of the titles and formality that had lost all meaning between us long ago.
"Colin, hello! I was beginning to think I might not see you at all during this ball, such your other engagements seemed to be."
"Well, I could never let my other engagements prevent me from conversing with the most beautiful woman at this ball, could I?"
He said it with an easy smile and a charming sincerity, but I'd seen him use the same attitude and similar words on enough other ladies in our few interactions this season that his words didn't work to sway me the way they seemed to sway others. My smile slipped, and I fought to hold back a sigh.
"Yes, well..."
Colin smiled at me for another moment, and when I didn't pick up the conversation, he gave an easy chuckle and fixed me with another roguish grin.
"As delighted as I am for any opportunity to spend time with you, my lady, I did come over here to ask you if you might do me the honor of a dance. I truly cannot think of a partner I would rather have than you."
I fought a grimace, barely managing to turn it into a polite smile. I looked around briefly to make sure we were still out of earshot of any other party-goers or servants, which we were. I turned back to Colin with a sigh.
"Colin... I am going to tell you this because I truly care about you, although that may not seem to be my motivation at first glance."
"...Alright," said Colin, blinking a few times and trying to hide any confusion with another easy smile. I took a deep breath.
"I do not wish to dance with you." The smile dropped off Colin's face and his eyebrows knit together as I continued. "I never thought I would say such a thing, as quite often dancing and laughing with you were the only things that made attending society events bearable. But ever since you've returned home from your trip, Colin... it has been nearly impossible to talk to you.
"The man I thought I knew, my friend, whom I deeply cared about and whom I could talk to about anything, seems to have gone. And in his place I have found a Colin Bridgerton who not only flirts with anything that moves, but who does so in a way that is incredibly condescending and impossible to have a meaningful conversation with. Your letters from your previous travels were wonderful, Colin, and when you returned we were able to discuss them at length. You know I have an interest in learning and the world at large, and yet now, whenever I bring the subject up, I am told I could not possibly handle hearing about the things you saw and did, since I am but a fragile woman. Your sincerety and genuine expression of yourself has become cloaked in an oily layer of false sentiment and charm, directed equally at everyone you speak to, no matter your relation to them or your true feelings. I have no idea what brought about this change in you, Colin, but I am sorry to say I do not enjoy it the way the rest of the ladies here seem to."
Colin just stared at me, blinking and gaping like a fish. I frowned, feeling a big guilty, but lying to him would serve no purpose for either of us. Still, he was my friend, and I did care about him regardless of his recent changes. Choosing to ignore society for a brief moment, I put my hand out and rested it gently on his arm.
"Do not mistake my words as an insult designed to hurt you, Colin. You are my friend, and always will be. I have simply... found it harder to be around the person you have become recently. I am truly happy for you and your newfound confidence, but it seems to have extended a bit beyond confidence and into something more challenging, especially with ladies. Even ones you've known as long as you've known me."
I gave him a tight smile, which he seemed too stunned to return. I gave him a moment, but when he still didn't seem capable of a response, I curtsied and took a few steps backwards.
"Well. I will... take my leave. I do hope you enjoy the rest of the ball."
Colin just watched me as I took another few steps backwards. Finally, I turned on my heel and walked away. I wasn't sure how I'd been expecting him to take my statement, but complete speechlessness certainly hadn't been my prediction. I could only hope I hadn't wounded him too badly, and that he might come around enough to be the man I remembered as my friend and confidant, who could discuss the world with me as an equal and laugh with me through anything.
Thankfully, no one at the ball seemed to have noticed our exchange. Colin kept his distance from me for the rest of the evening, although I did notive him staring in my direction once or twice.
I debated finding Benedict to ask him his opinion about what I'd said to Colin, and how Colin might be feeling, but eventually decided against it. No matter how true my words had been, or how I'd tried to keep them from sounding harsh or designed to hurt, Colin would likely need his space for a time while he processed. And sending his brother in as my proxy would be the opposite of giving Colin space.
I expected Colin to keep his distance from me for a few days at least, if not for much, much longer. But as I took my seat in the sitting room of my family home the next morning for the start of the calling hours, I turned out to be quite incorrect. Before the clock had finished chiming to mark the start of the first hour, none other than Colin Bridgerton came striding through the door, ahead of the butler who normally would have announced him.
"Lady Y/N," he said, bowing to me and then to my mother sitting on the couch next to me. "I have come to call on you, if you are willing to entertain my company."
He still walked and spoke with confidence, but the layer of charm that had honeyed his words since the first day he'd returned for the season was gone, replaced by a directness and frankness that felt like taking a breath of fresh air. I gave him a small smile.
"I would be more than happy to have your company, Mister Bridgerton."
Colin gave me a small smile in return, and the two of us moved to the other end of the room, still able to be chaperoned but out of immediate earshot. I settled into the couch, Colin sitting right beside me.
"Y/N... thank you for being willing to speak to me. I had to see you, to apologize... and to explain."
My eyebrows shot up. Now that we were sitting closer together, I noticed a few irregularities in Colin's appearance. He had a few shadows under his eyes, as though he hadn't slept well, and his hair wasn't as neatly quaffed as I was used to seeing it. His shirt was rumpled in a few places a maid or a butler or a hovering older sibling might've insisted on fixing if they could've, and although Colin's new confidence appeared to be mostly intact, the charm had been replaced with a nervous energy I'd hardly ever seen from him.
"Colin... are you quite alright?" I asked, leaning a bit closer to him as I studied his face. When I looked up to meet his eyes, I found them instead scanning my face, until he apparenlty snapped out of it and met my gaze. He took a deep breath and sighed.
"Yes. Well, no. Perhaps. I am not sure, I think my wellbeing may depend a bit on the outcome of this conversation."
"Colin, before you begin, if I was too harsh on you the other night then I must apologize-"
"No! No. You were not." He took another fortifying breath, closing his eyes for a moment and dropping his shoulders from where they'd been creeping closer to his ears, before meeting my eyes again. "I have been quite different since I came home. I found myself while I was away from society, in a way I have never felt able to do here. But... I also learned the kind of charm that most of the Ton enjoys. It worked so well from the moment I got back, I did not think much of it. But I should have. And I am sorry if our relationship suffered as a result of my attitude."
Colin paused to take a deep breath, and I took the opening to reach out and rest my hand on his forearm.
"Colin, you do not-"
"Y/N, please. Please allow me to get all the way through this. I need to say it all, and I may not be able to get it out if I have an opportunity to change the subject."
I leaned back a little to stare at Colin, though I didn't remove my hand. His eyebrows were knit together with worry and his eyes never left my face. Slolwy, I nodded. Colin let out a sigh.
"Thank you." He squared his shoulders and sat up straighter, resting his hand on top of my own. "I understand why my approach was... not appreciated when we spoke in the garden and at Lady Danbury's ball. But the sentiment behind what I was saying was genuine. I have been searching for the way to tell you this for years, and I thought the charm and flirtation I learned abroad would be the way to finally do it. Clearly I was wrong. You should have seen the face Benedict made when I talked to him last night..."
Colin trailed off, shaking his head and apparently lost in thought. After a moment, I took a breath to say something else, but the noise must've been enough to jar Colin out of his memories. His stare snapped back to me, eyes slightly wider than usual.
"I love you. I have been in love with you for years, and when I returned home from this trip, I decided to finally do something about it. I thought the charm that worked so well on everyone else would work just as well for you, but... clearly I was mistaken."
I huffed a laugh. That was certainly an understatement.
"I wanted everything to be perfect, to come home changed and sweep you off your feet, but I've already failed at that, and I cannot keep my feelings to myself a moment longer. I love you, and I want to share everything with you. You are my best friend, my confidant, and the only woman I could possibly imagine spending the rest of my life with. Is there even the slightest chance you may feel the same way?"
Colin looked at me with the most open, vulnerable expression I'd ever seen, from anyone. My heart raced in my chest, and all I wanted to do was throw my arms around him and never let go. But I forced myself to take a moment, rather than letting my emotions run wild.
"I need you to answer two questions for me, Colin," I said, trying to keep my voice calm and level. Unfortunately, I didn't totally succeed. Colin nodded quickly.
"Anything."
"First... how were your travels? Where was your favorite place to visit?"
Colin huffed a laugh, relaxing and leaning into me slightly as a faint smile pulled onto his face. My heart raced, but I forced myself to keep a neutral expression.
"I apologize for even making this test necessary, but my travels were... incredible. I may ask you not to share details with the rest of the Ton, but anything you ask, I will be happy to share with you. And my favorite place was Paris. I could not stop thinking about the two of us returning someday to visit together. It is a truly romantic city."
Colin's words removed any hope I had at keeping a smile off my face. I leaned into it, grinning at him and squeezing his hand a little as my heart began to race.
"Well then, I look forward to hearing all about them."
"And I look forward to telling you. Your second question?"
"...Did you truly go to Benedict for help with this last night?"
Colin groaned and threw his head back, which made me laugh. He shook his head as he met my eyes again, but he was smiling all the same.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. I know you are close with him, and I noticed you going to speak to him after you abruptly left our conversation at the garden party. I thought he might have some insight, and I was right. It just came at the cost of quite a bit of mocking."
"You truly must be serious to give Benedict such ammunition to use against you for the rest of your lives."
"I am incredibly serious. And I would brave the teasing of every one of my siblings if, at the end, it brought me to you."
"Colin, that may be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me."
"Does that mean... you return my affections?"
I smiled. "Yes, Colin. It does. You are my best friend, and I cannot think of anyone I would rather spend my time with than you."
Colin absolutely beamed at me. He began to lean forward, then thought better of himself even as his eyes still strayed to my lips.
"I cannot begin to tell you how desperately I wish we were alone in this moment," he said, voice low and husky. My heart did a backflip as I felt myself flush.
"Hopefully we will not have to wait long," I replied. We stayed there together, the tension and heat growing between us, until my mother cleared her throat from across the room and we were both brought back to reality. We leaned slightly further apart, although we didn't let go of each others' hands, and shared a grin.
"So... does that mean you will marry me?"
I laughed. "Colin, you cannot be serious! You began courting me a handful of minutes ago!"
I met Colin's eyes, expecting to share the joke, but instead I found him staring at me with a burning sincerity to go with his words.
"I am happy to wait as long as you need me to," he said, voice lowered slightly. "But I would also happily announce our engagement today."
I smiled and shook my head, my heart pounding in my chest so hard I thought Colin might actually be able to hear it.
"I may ask you to wait at least long enough for us to spend an evening or two together while courting, to see what it may be like to have a different relationship, rather than to spend time together as friends. But... I do not predict you will need to wait long."
The grin that spread across Colin's face was blinding, rivaling the happiest looks I'd ever seen from anyone in my life.
"That is good to hear. There are quite a few things I can hardly wait for, all of which come with engagement and marriage."
"Hm. Thank goodness we are both of positions and family that allow us to disappear for months on a honeymoon, finally sharing some travels around the world together. Among other things."
Colin squeezed my hand, and I could see him fighting back a handful of inappropriate responses and actions. I just grinned back at him, the two of us settling into our usual ease on the couch togehter after a moment so I could finally get Colin to tell me about the things he'd done on his travels. Hopefully, no one else would show up during the calling hours, and Colin and I could spend every moment of the day together just like this.
I'd meant what I'd said about wanting to wait, at least a short while, before announcing an engagement, and I did think it was a good idea. But I also couldn't imagine anything coming between Colin and I again after this. My best friend was back, and we were in love. What more could I possibly ask for in a match than that? Even if Benedict would be insufferable, claiming to be the one who'd set us up. It would be worth it, especially because we would weather the storm of his siblings together. Just like we'd do everything else that came for the rest of our lives.
****************
Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen
#sophie's yaer of fic#bridgerton#colin bridgerton#bridgerton fanfiction#colin bridgerton x reader#bridgerton oneshot#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton x reader#colin bridgerton fanfiction#colin bridgerton oneshot#colin bridgerton imagine#bridgerton season 3#bridgerton s3#benedict bridgerton#the bridgertons#bridgerton netflix#regency era#the bridgerton family#the bridgerton siblings#bridgerton family
142 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hmm i just had a thought about the recent fic w Arlecchino
What if she had a muzzle on w bunny suit🧐
☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader
☆ — TYPE: NSFW
☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Breeding, size kink, reader has a cock/strap referred to as such
☆ — NOTES: I'm ngl it's been several Arle fics now that idk which one you were on ab but it's okay gwenchana. Anyway you lot really want to breed her huh (same though)
Good luck convincing Arlecchino to wear a bunny suit actually HAHAHA
She'd do anything for you, really she will!!!! She's so dedicated to you—worshipping you in the same way a diety was meant to be worshipped—that it's actually scary for the both of you, how much of a hold you have on her. But she has some reservations about such a risqué bit of clothing 💀
Not like you blame her though, considering how it wasn't usually her style. Lucky for you, however, YOU get special treatment :3 all it takes is one look at the outfit, one look at her and some time and voila!!! She'll concede—hell, she might even surprise you :3
"You're.. you're sure, right? I know you were kinda against it at first—I feel bad if I ended up forcing you into something you-- mm."
A finger was on your lips, the gesture's message quite clear as your beloved spoke amidst your commanded silence, "I'm sure, yes. I admit I am.. apprehensive, but your longing gaze is more than enough to convince me to, ah.. experiment."
"Really..?"
"Yes. You do not take me for my word?"
"No, I do! It's just..." You huffed out a sigh as you gently took the hand on your lip and took it in your own, "I just don't want you to feel as if you were obligated to entertain my every whim."
You see her eyes soften at your concern and she squeezes your hand as a form of reassurance from your often-so-stoic lover, "You should know better than to believe I would ever compromise my own comfort for something like this."
"And besides," she continues, "surprisingly, I've come to enjoy being.. well, your prey of sorts. Perhaps the outfit may elevate the interest to another level, hm?"
You couldn't help but stare at her, boldness practically radiating off of your lover despite the position you both know she truly holds within the privacy of your bedroom walls. Such boldness prompted an imagined flash of images in your mind—blackened hands all tied up, drool escaping her lips within confining barriers, tears escaping as sinful noises of wet skin-to-skin impact echo along with her moans—and you feel something akin to a hot flash within your core.
Ever so observant, her eyes go half-lidded as she looks up at you, her grin a touch sharper than before, "I see that I have awakened your imagination."
"Maybe."
"You need not imagine it, my beloved." Her voice reduces itself to something of a low purr, "All you need to do is command me, and I will do whatever you wish."
"That's a dangerous promise to make."
"Coming from a dangerous woman such as I, I dare say it balances the scales."
I love dialogue lol anyway tell her to do so and she will do it ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️ and next thing you know you're facing a woman much shorter than you've always known her to be, clad in such a revealing outfit and a muzzle to prevent her from biting so much. She had 'protested' against the latter at first, but you both know from the way that she so very easily accepted such a thing that she was all for the extra torture, not being able to make a mark on you (she forgets that her nails'll probably do the job for her anyway LMAO)
When she's laid out 'helplessly' on the bed as you tower over her, when you put your hand on the flat of her stomach and the both of you see the clear size difference, when you look at her and see so much anticipation and carnal lust practically glazing her eyes? Oh god the both of you KNOW you're not going out this room for a WHILE
She is COMPLETELY at your mercy—you can toy with her all you want, alternating between overstimulation and edging her with whatever is at your disposal until she can't take it anymore so she has to actually beg you to fuck her dumb and reduce all trains of thought into mush. She considers begging as below her, and yet she can't help but let out these reluctant pleas that only seem to gain a more.......willing quality with them in due time. Just make sure to torture her until her composure snaps, giving her her own sort of medicine and having her experience her very own mindbreak through overwhelming pleasure
To see this woman, who is so utterly feared to the point where crowds would part for her in fear that she would plunge her blackened hands into their chest and staining them red, cling to you and hump your cock like a bitch in heat is such a harrowing contrast.......but there is certainly that feeling of something more
Perhaps it's the fact that there was the urge to pin her down into a mating press and stuff her silly until she gets kids on her own ☺️ seeing her take all these children in at the Hearth and not having any herself.....why, for some reason you found yourself feeling like you just had to give her some children of her own. She seems to adore them, so whyever not ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️
Even as dazed-out as she is, she can see something change inside you as your objective goes from fucking her silly to something a lot more feral. Doesn't necessarily help that, yk, you have her in a bunny suit. And yk how bunnies just love to breed
As much as Arlecchino had tried to tell you to slow down for a brief moment, it's as if all noise has been blocked out from your senses, save for the sounds your lover makes and the sinfully wet noises that are produced as you piston into her again and again and again and again.
You roughly pushed her down into the matress, now damp and messy from a mixture of your bodily fluids, as you made sure to bottom out inside her as quickly as you drew back—the harsh assault on her hole had hit spots within her she didn't even realise you could hit, not to mention the force of your movements being more than enough to easily stretch her out and mold her insides to fit you and only you.
It was obvious that there was no way any mercy was going to be given to her. The Harbinger could only lay there and take everything you give her like some kind of fleshlight, the 'fight' within her long gone (if she even had some left in her to begin with).
God I need to separate these bc I can't just choose one thank yew bc both are very very very VERY good
If you had a dick:
You were so utterly determined to fill her and making sure your seed takes by the end of your session. If it meant basting her insides with white-hot cum and having it all stuffed inside her to the point where it has no where to go but out by force, then you'll cum inside her over and over again until you can't anymore.
And when your hand goes to press down on her abdomen, you can see the mixture of cum inside her practically spray out at the edges. She can't take it anymore, even she says so, and yet you can't help but wonder just why is her pussy still milking you as if her life depended on it?
Because she's greedy.
Because right now, no longer was she Arlecchino—she was your very own rabbit, hungry for your potent seed.
If you're using a strap:
You know of your limitations—without anything extra such as magical means, you cannot actually have her bare your children. But whyever would you let that stop you, especially when you had benefits that more than makes up for your lack of organic appendages?
If you had the real thing then you could stuff her silly until it takes (and even beyond that), but one can easily make up for it in other qualities such as size and shape.
And really, whatever's stopping you from filling her to the brim with artificial cum instead?
The world is your oyster, and Peruere was nothing but your very own porcelain fuckdoll at this point.
I need to breed her every which way idc if I don't have a dick, if there's a will there's a way
When she realises what you're trying to do, she can't help that sudden jolt that completely overtakes her—her hips practically shoot from the bed, pushing your cock in even deeper, before you push her back down while she lets out a silent scream. By GOD the fact you want to breed her, fill her, make sure a child of YOURS growing inside her, making a mark beyond just her skin.........oh it gets her going in ways she never would've fathomed before
By the end of your VERY long and productive session, it's VERY clear you've both fucked like rabbits from the mess all over the place and the liquid practically gushing from her abused hole. After everything, you finally take off her muzzle, only for you to lead her drool-coated mouth all the way down to the base of your cock to clean it up. She doesn't even protest either, easily taking it like a good girl and making sure that she does a good job in cleaning you up and finishing you off. All you need to do is plug her up properly, feeling all the cum stuffed inside her through the small pauch of her abdomen, where her womb is 🫶
"..I had known this was a possible outcome, and yet I cannot help but be surprised by your control, or lack thereof."
You groaned, covering your face with your hands as you rolled on your side, "I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me! You just looked so irresistible and before I knew it I just--"
"Don't take my words as a form of reprimand, darling." You feel her hands take your own from your face, her lips finally kissing them—you—after a long time of having it muzzled, "I enjoyed it. You are already aware of my.. likes and dislikes, especially when it comes to the rougher parts of the activity. I gave you control, and you willingly seized it."
"I guess..."
"And besides," she muses with a small smile on her face, "I am.. not necessarily opposed to the thought of it."
"Of what?"
"Getting bred."
A warm flush spreads through your cheeks as you gave her a light swat, "You! You are so shameless! What happened to being polite and cryptic?!"
"Do we really need such pleasantries by this point? Seeing that you were rather determined to take me all for yourself, after all..."
"Oh my god."
A deep laugh rumbles within her, the sound so rare and precious that you'd want to keep it all to yourself, and you can't help but laugh along with her as you bask in the afterglow. When your laughter settles down, the two of you end up with your legs tangled up together as you lay there in companionable silence.
Though eventually she decides to break it, "Shall I go and run us a bath?"
"You can stand after all that? Geez, seems like I did a bad job," you joked.
Arlecchino huffed out lightly with a smile, "No, you've rendered me utterly near-useless—a feeling that I don't usually enjoy. Yet the fact that I don't seem to mind it all that much should show that you are special to me."
You feel that heat in your cheeks again at the proclamation, "Archons, and when I aim to have you all sappy like that in public you don't even dare move a muscle."
"Time and place, dear. Time and place. Now," she questions again, "shall I run us a bath? We can take care of the mess later."
You nodded, "Mm, if you don't mind then. But can we take it together?"
You see her eyes crinkle, the glow that the red crosses within them softening like a tender flame, "Of course. I shall be back in a few moments, then."
She gets up, and you pride yourself for being the reason why your lover temporarily goes off balance from a sudden tremor in her legs before collecting yourself.. and you can't help but stare at the remaining cum staining the sides of the plug and the apex of her thighs as she walks off.
She doesn't take the plug off when you go and take the bath together. Wonder why 😋
#hazy demos!#hazy explicits!#i love starting shit ☺️ sub arlecchino believers RISE UP (me and my nonexistent dick both rose up)#arlecchino x reader#arlecchino smut#sub arlecchino#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact smut#sub genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin imagines#genshin smut#sub genshin#genshin women x reader#genshin women imagines#genshin women smut#sub genshin women
82 notes
·
View notes
Note
THIRSTY THURSDAYS TOO?? UR SPOILING US
i for one have been thinking abt this for like a week but i keep missing tuesdays soooo
i simply cannot stop thinking abt long hair noah and it spiralled into quarantine friend noah. you met online through streaming or something. you’re totally just friends, you just maybe flirt sometimes! that’s normal! and yeah maybe there was that one time you sent him that one pic, and yes he did respond with one of his own, but noah’s just a friend!! just a friend you facetime sometimes at night, when both of you are needy, and he’s getting himself off as he watches you touch yourself for him talking about how you’re “probably so tight” and he “just wants to see how pretty you look when you cum” and he’s so close but he’s trying so hard to hold on, he hasn’t blinked in what feels like hours because he doesn’t want to miss a single thing
Oh this one made my tummy flip. I figured Thirsty Thursdays would be another fun thing. Something quick I could whip up on my phone while I hide from my mom at work 🤭
“Fuck,” Noah grunted it’s his hand wrapped tightly around his cock, the other holding his phone up so he could watch you come apart from the black rose vibrator you held against your clit.
“Noah”, your broken breaths coming through the speaker of his phone. “I’m so close.”
Your back was arched off your bed, ready for the orgasm to completely destroy you.
“I bet you feel fucking tight, angel. I need to feel you,” Noah tried so hard not to cum yet. He didn’t want to miss seeing you fall apart.
This “friendship” between the two of you had been strictly to streaming or FaceTiming since you lived in a different state.
“I need you here with me,” he panted while stroking a finger over the head of his cock, covering it with the precum.
“Yes please,” you sighed breathlessly. “I need you inside of me Noah.”
“I’ll buy you a plane ticket, Angel.” He promised as both of you finally came apart together.
77 notes
·
View notes
Text
why juni ba’s the boy wonder has my favorite jason characterization of any contemporary comic run: a needlessly in-depth analysis (pt.2)
alright here we are with part two! i promised i'd be quick with it, didn't i? you can find part one here. thank you guys so much for all the nice comments, i love yapping to a receptive audience :D
so, if you haven't read part one, i've been going over the common critques of ba's characterization of jason, the main three being:
the typical boiling down of jason's character to "the angry one"
his lack of strategy going into the fight with the demon is out-of-character
the neighbor's kid interaction
in the first part we went over #1, so now were gonna look at #2!
so, a problem people have with the story is how ba writes jason's reaction to the fight with rok (white tophat demon guy); damian and jason jump into the fight with seemingly no preparation at all, "underestimating" rok and paying the price for it.
i'll be honest, i do agree with this critque a bit. jason, if he is nothing else, is an obsessive planner and strategist; his back-up plans have back-up plans, and so on. we see this in plenty of his comic renditions, especially in lost days and under the red hood, where there are numerous examples of jason's competency. despite this, many comics fall into the habit of treating him as the "reckless, stupid robin", once again reducing his character to just his anger, usually to make the other robins more competent. looking at his actions in utrh & lost days, however, makes him jumping into a fight with no information uncharacteristic.
so, i sort of agree with this critque. HOWEVER. i will attempt to rationalize this part of ba's writing (because there are still parts of it i disagree with and it's more fun than just agreeing and moving on)
alright, to begin, lets look at these three different series; utrh (under the red hood), lost days, and the boy wonder. there is obviously many other examples out there, but i'm just gonna focus on these three for now because otherwise we'd be here all day.
in utrh & lost days, jason is driven by an obvious goal with an obvious end result; in utrh his goal is making bruce kill the joker & taking over gotham's underbelly, and in lost days it is getting skilled enough to complete the previously mentioned objective. i also chose to highlight the scene where jason puts a bomb underneath the batmobile in lost days, intending to kill bruce, because it's another very clear example of jason's strategic prowess. the whole bomb thing even happens before jason starts his murder training, making the feat even more impressive.
ba's jason, though, exists in a reality post-utrh; his plan failed and he must live with the consequences and implications of that truth. the recklessness that he presents in the fight in the boy wonder could be a representation of him grappling with this idea-- his supposed failure and banishment obviously must have had an effect on his psyche, and ba is attempting to portray that. ba plays a lot with the sadder side of jason's existence in the comic, so it's a plausibly theory, even if it is admittedly reaching a bit.
additionally, referring back to the earlier conversation about jason's anger in the first part of this discussion, i have the same sentiments about portrayal's of jason's recklessness. he can possess a strategic mind while still being reckless; it's his numerous paradoxical character traits that make him such an interesting character (at least to me). he's a mess of contradictions.
furthermore, while jason's actions are reckless and brash in this specific instance of the story, that does not mean that ba presents him as a reckless character. there's a difference between a reckless character and a character being reckless, and i feel like jason mostly falls into the latter. while maybe not super obvious, jason's tactical-ness is still present in ba's portrayal. this is represented through damian's responses and reactions to jason.
the fact that damian goes to jason for help in the first place is baffling. as a prideful kid desperate to prove himself, damian is not predisposed to asking for help, which is clearly presented in the first issue when he interacts with dick and babs.
damian's willingness to work with jason could be a result of him recognizing their similarities; he's more approachable than dick "golden boy" grayson. beyond that, he goes to jason because he needs a certain set of skills to help him catch the demon.
while jason is not able to fully present his usefulness at this task because the demon finds them first, he is clearly seen taking charge of the situation and dictating their plan to locate the demon, and damian actually defers to him. while brief, this instance represents that despite his recklessness in the battle against rok, ba still accurately presents jason's tactical skills, underscoring the intelligence he has that so many author's ignore or downplay.
i could go into how this plays into jason being a foil character to damian, but i'll save it for another day. sorry if this post is a little nonsensical, i did my best. i'll finish up my analysis in part 3! :)
part 1 / part 3
#dc comics#jason todd#batman#dc#robin#red hood#batfamily#batfam#dick grayson#damian wayne#the boy wonder#juni ba#juni ba's the boy wonder#tuesday spoilers#nightwing#barbara gordon#red hood: the lost days#under the red hood
76 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Pedriiii - Bonus Chapter''
N/A: And as promised, here is the bonus chapter. Have a look at how things are going for Pedri, Isa, and Axel. I hope you enjoy it.
Ps: I just realized now that this image might contain spoilers. lol
One Month Later
Axel was a very active and talkative child, especially when he felt comfortable around someone. It was like that with Pedri, with his friends, and also with the player’s family. Seeing him now, sitting in complete silence, was strange, mainly because he was about to do something he had always wanted, ever since he had understood it, and had tirelessly asked Isa to be able to go onto the field with Pedri. When the request came directly from his favorite player, Axel was over the moon. Isa didn’t even know how to calm him down, he was so excited about the invitation. Hours and days were talking about it excitedly, and now that the day had finally arrived, all that energy had passed, when it should have been the opposite.
“Well, at least we know that when he becomes a player he will be very focused,” Gavi said beside Isa while looking at the little boy.
“I love how you all already assume he will be a player,” Isa said reluctantly. Fernando looked at her and laughed.
“I love how you haven’t accepted that he will be a player yet,” Fer said, standing up and patting Isa on the shoulder. “You need to accept the facts, it will be less painful when it happens,” he said humorously. Isa rolled her eyes at him. She knew that the chances of Axel wanting to pursue a football career were high; he had inherited his grandfather’s passion for the sport. Now, with the presence of the club’s players in his life, Isa was sure that this would influence him even more.
“Isa, it’s time,” one of the club staff entered the room where they were. Isa nodded and walked to where Axel was sitting.
“Hey, baby, you have to go now,” Isa crouched next to her son. His eyes were shining, and Isa was sure of how nervous he was. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Isa said understandingly. Axel made a face.
“I want to go, but do you think Pedri wants me there?” Axel asked insecurely. He always got like this after spending a few hours with his father, but Isa understood her son’s insecurities; after all, she had her own when it came to the player.
“Are you kidding? Pedri has been counting the days for this moment, buddy,” Fer said, crouching next to Isa in front of Axel. The youngest looked at him, still seeming uncertain.
“Isa, he has to go with the other kids,” the staff member repeated. Axel looked at Isa and then at Gavi.
“Gavi, will you go with me?” Axel asked shyly. Gavi approached and picked him up.
“Of course, buddy, if it makes you feel better,” Gavi said, hugging him. “Deep down, deep down, I know I’m your favorite,” Gavi teased. Axel raised his eyebrows, looking offended, which made Fernando laugh.
“You know you not,” Axel said, hitting Gavi’s shoulder. The two left the room talking about something.
“Let’s go to the stands,” Fer pulled Isabella outside, and the woman could feel her nervousness taking over. When she arrived, she saw her father already excited, singing songs of the crowd. Pedri’s parents greeted her with a warm hug.
“You’re freezing, dear,” Rosy, Pedri's mom said, holding Isa’s hand. “Oh, I understand, I always get like this when Pedri goes onto the field,” the woman hugged Isabella in a comforting way.
Isa still found it strange the relationship she was having with the player’s family. They were so welcoming since the game against PSG. They sent messages asking Axel if she was okay. They gathered at Isa’s father’s house just to chat, and they even took Axel for outings. Isa found it strange because she had never had that experience before. Her ex-mother-in-law made sure to criticize her all the time, especially the way she raised Axel. And with her current mother-in-law, everything was different, well, Isa didn’t know if she could call her that, since she and Pedri were not officially in a relationship. This left her even more confused.
“They’re coming in,” Rosy said excitedly, holding Isa’s hand. Isa’s father stood up as if a goal had been scored, holding Fer by the shoulders and shaking him excitedly. Isa laughed at the scene and turned her attention to the field. Pedri was the last to enter, and unlike the other players who were holding hands with their respective kids, Pedri was carrying Axel in his arms.
“He got shy,” Fer concluded. The pre-game processes were finished, and Isa saw when Pedri walked to the edge of the field and handed Axel to Gavi, who was waiting there.
“Aw, a good older son,” Fer said, turning with a mocking smile to Isabella, who rolled her eyes. “I’m going to get something for Axel to eat. Do you want anything, sis?” Isa frowned and just shook her head. Fer looked confused at her and then left.
After a few minutes, Gavi arrived with Axel, who was talking again. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were sparkling with excitement.
“Mom, did you see me out there?” he asked excitedly while jumping into his mother’s lap. “It was so cool.”
“You did very well, Axel,” Rosy said, kissing the boy’s hand. “Did you like it?”
“Yeeeees, it was cool to see everyone from the field,” he said excitedly.
“Soon it will be you entering the field with a child,” Pedri’s father said, picking Axel up from Isa’s lap and starting a conversation with the little boy.
“You’re acting strange,” Gavi said beside her, watching her. Isabella looked at him stunned.
“You freeze every time Pedri’s family shows affection for Axel,” Gavi concluded. Isa was sometimes surprised by how observant Gavi was and how well he read her.
“Don’t you find it strange? They hardly know him and treat him like this...” Isa said quietly, hoping the noise of the stadium was enough for the player’s family not to hear her.
“Wow, I know Axel’s father’s family was horrible to you, but to the point of you finding it strange for your son to be well treated?” Gavi asked curiously.
“You have no idea,” Isa muttered, watching Axel get excited with Fer approaching with a bag of popcorn.
“Well, you’re Pedri’s girlfriend now, so it’s natural for them to treat you well,” Gavi concluded.
“I’m not Pedri’s girlfriend,” Isa said in a louder tone, attracting Fer’s attention, who looked confused at her again but soon returned his attention to Axel, who was telling him something.
“What are you talking about?” Gavi asked confused. “Fernando would have already said on Instagram that you weren’t if you weren’t,” he said humorously, making Isa laugh. “And I don’t think his family would interact so much with you and Axel if you weren’t. Believe me, he tells everything to his parents and takes their opinion very seriously.”
“I know, but we haven’t talked about it...” Isa said, watching Pedri run across the field.
“Oh my God, my brother is so dumb,” Fer said, turning again to face Isa. Axel looked at Fernando with a frown.
“Don’t talk about Pedri like that, Fer” Axel reprimanded him, and Fer was shocked.
“You two are very united, I’m at a disadvantage here. How am I going to speak ill of him now?” Fer asked indignantly. “I brought you popcorn, you have to let me talk bad about him a little.”
“Stop tormenting the boy,” Pedri’s father picked Axel up from his son’s lap. Fer looked offended, making Isa laugh.
Barcelona won the match. For the first time, the team seemed to have found a rhythm, and that was reassuring. Isa was in her car in the stadium’s parking lot. There were only a few minutes left until the match ended. Axel was sleeping peacefully in the back seat and would probably wake up only the next day. Early in the second half, he started complaining about a headache. Isa concluded that it was the adrenaline of entering the field finally passing and giving way to exhaustion, which Isa also shared. The woman had advanced all her work so she could have a day off and accompany Axel’s special day. And also, her mind couldn’t stop thinking about her relationship with Pedri. Since the game against PSG, Pedri’s presence had become constant, but at no time did they talk about what their relationship status was. Isa was looking at social media; she and Axel were already on the player’s fan pages, which also speculated about the nature of their relationship. Isa put her phone back in her pocket and leaned her head on the seat, closing her eyes. After a few minutes, the sound of someone knocking on the window woke her up, and she looked outside, seeing the player smiling at her. She unlocked the car, expecting him to get into the passenger seat, but instead, he opened the driver’s door.
“I’ll drive,” he said firmly. Isa didn’t argue, just jumped into the passenger seat. Pedri got in, looked at Axel in the back seat, and then at Isa. He leaned in to buckle the seatbelt for her, and she looked at him curiously. Isa wanted to ask him, but she was too shy to do so, and she was also a little dazed; Isa loved seeing Pedri play, but she also loved how he looked after a match, his messy hair, the confident look, the flushed cheeks. Pedri narrowed his eyes at her, a smile at the corners of his lips.
“What?” he asked, but Isabella just shook her head, forcing herself to return to reality. “What were you thinking about?” Isa felt her cheeks warm.
“Nothing... ” she shrugged
Pedri smiled and leaned in to kiss her, and then he drove out of the stadium toward her apartment.
Pedri could see that something was bothering her. The entire silent drive to the apartment showed that. His brother and Gavi calling him dumb and stupid were also hints. Pedri was sitting in Isa’s apartment living room while she put Axel to bed. It didn’t take long for her to return, and she stopped when she saw him sitting on the couch.
“You’re still here?” Isa asked cautiously, and Pedri found the woman’s cold reaction strange. He raised an eyebrow at her.
“What’s wrong, Isabella?” Pedri asked, watching the woman open her mouth several times to say something, but nothing came out. She seemed frustrated.
“Nothing,” she huffed and walked to the kitchen. Pedri followed her, stopping behind her with his arms on either side of her body, so she ended up trapped between the sink and him. Pedri could spend days looking at her, and he would never get tired. He was obsessed with her; it was all about her, the perfectly sculpted face, the sweet and welcoming smile, the way she raised Axel. The big brown eyes were looking at a point behind Pedri, and now he was sure that something was wrong because normally, when they were this close, her eyes were on his face, mapping it.
“Isabella...” Pedri held her face, forcing her to look at him. “What happened?”
“What are we?” Pedri was confused for a moment, thinking he had already been clear about his feelings for her.
“Is that why you’re in a bad mood?” Pedri asked humorously. Isa rolled her eyes, pushing him away and going to sit on the couch. Pedri followed her, still laughing at her mood. Pedri always enjoyed it when Isa showed her feelings. “I thought it was clear what we had,” Pedri sat next to her, who continued to ignore him. This time, it was Pedri who rolled his eyes. He moved a little closer and extended his hand to her face, pulling her so she would look at him. Isa’s big eyes were shining, and only now did he realize how serious she was.
“You’re married, Isabella,” Pedro said humorously, and Isa opened her mouth, surprised by his words. Pedri let out a little laugh. “We’re together, but to make things official, I don’t want that point between us.”
“Well, that never stopped you before,” this time it was Isa who said mockingly and humorously, and Pedri rolled his eyes, offended, moving away from her. Isa let out a giggle and sat on the player’s lap, holding his face and leaving kisses all over his face.
“I thought you were too smart for this,” Pedri said, holding Isa’s waist, who looked at him, not understanding. “Another thing you told me when we met at the nightclub,” Pedri kissed her neck. “That you were too smart to fall for my flirting.” Isa laughed, and Pedri felt his heart skip a beat; he loved her laugh, and he made wishes in his head so he could hear that laugh for many, many years.
******************************************
Three months later
"Pedriiii," Axel came running down the hallway looking for the player, holding his tiny soccer cleats in his hands. "Can you help me put them on?" Pedri laughed at the boy's eagerness. Today was a big day; Axel was going to play his first soccer game with his football class. At his age, everything was playful and introductory, without the pressure of professionalism, but still, it was an experience Axel was very excited and focused on. Pedri always talked to and supported the boy, encouraging him to enjoy the moment and not take it too seriously. Of course, at the end of the day, all the talk went out the window when Gavi showed up saying, "They are all our enemies; we can’t feel sorry for anyone."
"Axel, baby. Your father won’t be able to attend the game; he wasn’t given time off from work, but he wished you good luck." Isa appeared in the room. Pedri felt a strange sensation at the mention of the man and repressed the urge to roll his eyes at the excuse. It was his son’s first game, and he couldn’t make an effort. Axel shrugged at the information, not seeming affected, and Pedri mentally thanked, as he would hate anyone who spoiled Axel’s joy that day. "Go get your bag from your room, or we’ll be late." Axel ran to his room, and Isa took the opportunity to approach Pedri, hugging him. Pedri inhaled the woman’s perfume; he loved the intoxicating feeling it caused in his senses.
“Thank you,” she whispered in the player’s ear, causing a shiver. Axel returned to the room, running to Pedri's lap, making Isa roll her eyes at the boy’s preference.
“Pedri, don’t forget to control pop's so the coach doesn’t kick him out again.” Isa stopped in her tracks, staring at the two with wide eyes. Pedri felt his body go cold and looked at Axel, who seemed to realize what he had just said.
“What?” she asked, shocked by the information.
“He’s joking, love.” Isa looked suspicious while Axel hid his face in the player’s neck with small giggles.
Pedri had left Axel in the locker room with the other children. His appearance caused a bit of a stir among them, almost getting him kicked out by the coach too, but he managed to calm them down with the promise that he would take photos with all of them after the match. This resulted in Axel having a huge pout on his face while ignoring Pedri’s goodbye... the jealousy... like mother, like son.
Pedri headed to the stands where his family was. His mother was chatting animatedly with Isa’s stepmother, while his father was next to Isa’s father, who seemed to be too calm to what he usually was. When he noticed the player approaching, they exchanged a look of recognition.
“I thought we had a secret, my dear.” Pedri let out a little laugh while greeting his father-in-law.
“Complain to your grandson.” Pedri shrugged.
“She grounded me, but she’s there with the one responsible for the mess.” Isa’s father said, nodding towards where his daughter was. Pedri looked towards the edge of the field, where Isa was talking with Fer and Gavi, the latter hugging the woman who was laughing at something Pedri’s brother was saying.
“Don't worry, I'll make her see who he truly is,” Pedri said, laughing.
“Pedri, leave him alone, poor thing.” Pedri’s mother said.
“Poor thing because you don’t know the thing.” Pedri headed towards the three, and as soon as Isa noticed him approaching, she gave Pedri a cynical look.
“You have your child; I have mine.” She said, referring to Gavi, who gave a smug laugh.
“Now I know where Axel gets his jealous side from,” Pedri said humorously.
“Oh brother, you’re not far behind. You almost had a meltdown at that event because Bellingham greeted Isa and played with Axel.” Fer said, laughing at his brother, who scowled. Gavi burst into laughter, remembering the scene. Pedri looked at him and, seeing that he was about to say something more, so he intervened.
“You keep quiet, Gavira, or I'll tell her your secret...” Isa stopped hugging Gavi and looked at him attentively.
“You’re the only one who believes in his saintly face, Isa,” Fer said beside him, and soon he and Gavi started teasing each other. Isabella laughed at the scene and went to Pedri’s side, hugging him. The two shared a silent exchange of affection until Axel’s game began, and Isa started showing her motherly side. Ironically, Pedri had to hold her when she almost fought with a mother from the opposing team who's child had knocked Axel down rather harshly, which, of course, provided excellent ammunition for Isa’s father to tease his daughter.
*****************************************
Six months later
"Are you sure about this?" Isa asked for the thousandth time that day, making Pedri roll his eyes.
"Jesus... baby. Have you always been this anxious?" Pedri looked at the woman who was leaning against the door frame, staring at the large room, the room of the house that would be theirs. Ever since he had suggested they move in together, Isa had been showing signs of insecurity. Pedri walked over to her, holding her by the waist and pulling her into the house. Isa looked at him coyly. "There is nothing I want more than this, Isa. A house with you and Axel." Isa smiled at him, and God, how Pedri loved the woman's smile and the way her eyes sparkled for him.
"Pedriiii," Axel ran into the house.
"See, Axel. I told you they would be stalling while we do the heavy work," Fer said, dropping a box in the middle of the room.
"That's the first box you've picked up," Pedri said, looking at his brother while picking Axel up in his arms.
"Can we swim?" Axel asked excitedly. Ever since they had visited the house for the first time, the little boy had been excited about the pool in the backyard.
"Later, when everyone is here," Pedri replied. Axel nodded in understanding and got down from the player's arms, going to sit next to Fer on the couch.
Pedri saw Isa go upstairs and decided to follow her. In the past few days, the woman had been a bundle of nerves and anxiety, and he, more than anyone, understood all her fears, honestly, the idea that she might change her mind disturbed him to his core. He found her standing at the door of Axel's room. Pedri approached her, hugging her from behind. He kissed the back of her neck, making her giggle as she turned to face him.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked once more. "I'm a mother, and we have an age difference. I don't want you to take on such a big responsibility unless you're sure."
"You know we only have a four-year and a few months' difference, right?" Pedri said with humor. "And I am sure. I've been sure since the first time I saw you." Isa frowned.
"At the nightclub?" she asked, confused, and Pedri laughed, kissing her face.
"Yes, at the nightclub..." Isabella looked at him skeptically. "I am sure about this, baby. I've always been sure I wanted this, given the upbringing and family I had. But it was something distant until I met you and Axel. The moment you two came into my life, I knew I didn't want it with anyone else but you two." Pedri kissed Isa's forehead and wiped away the tears that streamed down her face. She kissed him so intensely that Pedri was sure he fell in love with her all over again.
********************************************
One Year Later
Isa could feel her heart in her throat, she could feel how fast it was beating, her hands were shaking uncontrollably, and tears were streaming down her face. Barcelona had won the Champions League, in an El Clásico, with an incredible comeback, and with the essential participation of Gavi and Pedri. The latter played an extraordinary game, the quality of his passes, his assists, and his leadership on the field. Isa felt her chest tighten with pride, or maybe she was having a heart attack. After all, no one expected or imagined that Barcelona would have such strength this season. As soon as the referee blew the final whistle, the stadium roared with a roar, a roar that had been stuck in their throats for years. An official came to the box to call the players' families to enter the field. Axel was ecstatic, his face red and swollen from crying. Isa wasn't sure if he understood the enormity of everything that was happening or if he was just carried away by his grandfather's emotions and Pedri's family. The player's mother was trembling so much, with a proud look on her face, and in the last minutes of extra time, the elderly woman had squeezed Isa's hand so tightly that it left marks. Pedri's father had picked Axel up, explaining that this way he wouldn't feel unwell. The player's brother had knelt to cry, and Isa hugged him, his tears soaking the woman's shirt. She admired the relationship they had so much. Even Isa's father had cried, and the man was usually tough, but he had cried, and Isa couldn't take him seriously because he was wearing a shirt he had received from Pedri's fans, a shirt with a picture of Gavi and Axel with the words "proud grandfather," and of course, the number 8 on the back, which he wore proudly.
"Pedriiii" Axel jumped down from Pedri's father's arms and ran across the field towards the player, who knelt to pick up the little boy. Isa felt her eyes welling up with tears again, and she tried to control herself for the photos. Isa stood back, wanting to let the boy's parents enjoy the moment. After all, they had worked so hard to get to that day.
"Isaaa," Gavi approached, hugging her.
"Gavira, congratulations, you deserve it so much. I'm so happy, I feel like a proud mother," Isa hugged him tightly. Isa looked behind the boy, and as if reading her mind, Gavi hurried to speak.
"She went to calm the things first" Gavi rolled his eyes, making Isa laugh.
Before they could continue the conversation, Isa's father approached, pulling Gavi towards him. The man gave Gavi a tight hug and gave him a speech about how proud he was of the boy. Gavi was almost crying, and the two were in an honest conversation, Isa could only think about how she had lost her father and son to Barcelona players.
"Hi, Ms. Gonzalez. You look beautiful" Ferran approached, greeting her with a hug.
"Thank you, Ferran, you too. Congratulations, you were amazing."
"Thank you, Isa. It's beautiful to see a father and his favorite kid," the player joked, looking at Gavi and Isa's father.
"Can you believe that?" Isa said indignantly. "He doesn't even hide that he has a favorite." Ferran laughed.
"Look at the size of your darling's pout. If there weren't cameras all around, he would have thrown me away by now," Ferran joked, pointing to Pedri on the other side of the field, who was looking their way but quickly looked away when he realized they were watching him. "Wow, I just had a major déjà vu," Ferran said, and Isa looked confused. "From when he saw you for the first time," he concluded.
"At the club?" Isa asked curiously, and Ferran chuckled.
"That wasn't the first time Pedri saw you." Isa looked at Pedri and then back at Ferran, who laughed at her reaction. "We were in the media room recording for the club, you walked in, and he was mesmerized. You didn't even notice him, but the boy was taken," Isa's mouth dropped open in shock.
"My God, I thought he saw me at the club."
"No, that was his stalker phase. He overheard you talking with the social media girls about going to that club and forced us to go with him," Ferran said, laughing. "He risked his 'I'd rather stay home, I don't like parties' reputation for you." Isa laughed out loud at the newly acquired information and looked at her boyfriend, who was frowning.
"Let me go over there or he'll get rid of you..." Isa said, laughing and hugging Ferran goodbye.
Isa walked slowly towards her boyfriend, who was watching his brother run after Axel, but his face was serious. He saw Isa approaching but paid no attention. She rolled her eyes and put her arms around the player's waist, who didn't reciprocate the gesture.
"Congratulations, mi amor," Isa said, leaning in to kiss the player, but he turned his face. "PEDRI," she said indignantly and pinched his arm, making him laugh and finally look at her and wrap his arms around her. Isa observed the player's face and never got tired of doing so. She loved looking at every little detail of his face.
"I can only accept sharing your attention with Gavi, and just because you and your father force me," he said, looking into Isa's eyes. The sparkle in them made the butterflies in her stomach take flight. "You congratulated them first," he said, feeling hurt.
"Love, it was your parents' moment," Isa explained, holding Pedri's face. "I am so proud, you were incredible throughout the championship, but today you were a level above everyone," Isa said proudly and saw Pedri's cheeks, already flushed from the game, turn even rosier, and his eyes filled with tears. He lowered his head, resting on her shoulder, the intimacy of the embrace putting them in their world as if it were just the two of them, nothing else around. But they were soon brought back to reality when they heard Fer shouting.
"Axel, no, your mother is going to kill me." Isa turned so quickly to see what her son was doing, and when she saw, she felt like strangling her boyfriend's brother. Axel was holding a bottle of champagne, shaking it, and trying to open it.
"My God..." Pedri muttered behind her amused by the scene, laughing at his brother running after the boy to try to get the bottle. Before Isa could go after the boy, Pedri pulled her back to him. "Let it be... Fer is watching, I want you here with me," Pedri said in her ear.
"Gross, what you two want to do can't be done here on the field, for God's sake," Gavi suddenly appeared next to them, startling them. Gavi laughed and tried to pull Isa into a hug, but Pedri prevented him.
"What's with you all competing for my girlfriend's attention?" Pedri said indignantly.
"It's not my fault she prefers me," Gavi winked at Isa, "and besides, sons have priority," Gavi teased, and Pedri rolled his eyes.
"Your brother is trying to get drunk, so why don't you go bother him before my brother has a heart attack from stress," Pedri pointed to Fer, who was still chasing Axel, who was laughing as he ran away.
"My God, I leave you for a minute..." Gavi said, moving away and running after Axel.
It was past three in the morning, the music was already playing at a lower volume, and there were remnants of burst balloons around the yard. Isa’s father had prepared a party for when the team returned to Barcelona after the final, as he was certain that victory and the title would come. And since it was more intimate than a nightclub, most of the players, staff, and families had attended; it had been completely lively, yet cozy. Several players had gotten drunk, even the club president had enjoyed everything, all of them forgetting that they would walk through the city the next morning to celebrate with the fans. At least their hungover faces would make for great photos and memes on social media. Isa had just finished helping her step mother put her father to bed; the man had finally rested. He was so proud that he even made a big speech about how proud he was of his kids Pedri, and Gavi, which drew a lot of laughter from those present.
Isa thought about tidying up a bit to have less mess the next day but quickly gave up as she was too tired, so she headed to the yard in search of her son. Axel had also enjoyed the celebration, and Isa was impressed by how his energy never seemed to run out. The woman’s eyes scanned the yard, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw Pedri sitting on the outdoor sofa, with Axel sleeping in his lap. He was accompanied by a few teammates in a quieter conversation. Pedri was visibly tired but held Axel with great care. Isa would never get tired of the bond between them and would be eternally grateful to Pedri for the affection he had for her son. Isa approached slowly, and as soon as Pedri noticed her, he gave a very genuine smile.
"Let's take Axel to bed," Isa said, and Pedri simply nodded. They said goodbye to the group; those who were there were regulars and knew how to manage themselves.
"He needs a bath," Pedri commented as he followed Isa to the bedroom.
"If we wake him up for that, we won’t sleep anymore," Isa said, laughing, and Pedri concluded that it wouldn’t be a good idea. He placed Axel in bed, left a kiss on the boy's forehead, and left the room. Isa repeated the gesture, and just as she was about to leave, Axel’s sleepy little voice called her back.
"Mommy, I’m so happy..." he mumbled.
"I know, baby, I am too," Isa said, running her hand through his hair.
"I’m so happy that Pedri is ours..." Isa laughed at the comment but felt her heartbreak, and remembered the conversation she had with her father when she felt insecure about her relationship with Pedri, right after Henry’s family threatened to take Axel’s custody if she didn’t return to her marriage with Henry, as he was Axel’s father and should be present in the child's life. Those were turbulent and sad weeks, and Isa almost fell into emotional manipulation, but her father always told her that she had to think about her happiness because it would consequently bring Axel’s happiness since he felt what she did, and he would only be happy if she was. And true, genuine happiness only existed when they were with Pedri.
"Yes, me too," Isa admitted and waited for a response from Axel, but there was none; he had fallen back asleep. Isa closed the door and headed to her and the player's room. The room was dark, but the bathroom light was on. Isa took off her clothes and went to the bathroom, finding Pedri in the bathtub. He smiled at her as she settled into the small space with him. It didn’t take long for him to slide into her, and they celebrated the title in another way that night.
**********************************************
Three Years Later
Isa had many insecurities about having a relationship with Pedri; she had never thought about the consequences or what it might bring to her life. She would have to deal with gratuitous hatred, malicious comments about the age difference, and unfounded rumors. But with Pedri, it was possible to forget these details that could influence her life. It had been this way since the first time she was with him, the first time she saw him at the nightclub. When she saw him, she knew who he was, knew she would be working with him, and that she should not have any relationship with him, but he was extremely inviting, and Isa felt attracted to him from then on. And as she saw how he treated Axel, he increasingly found a place in her heart. Axel was her life, and seeing Pedri’s concern and care for the boy filled her heart. Isa never imposed anything on the player; she always treated their relationship as a friendship from the start.
Isa entered the living room, and Pedri was sitting on the couch with one arm resting behind his head while the other was using his phone. Axel was lying a few meters away from him, sleeping. The two were inseparable, and this filled Isa’s heart.
"Pedriiii," Isa said softly so as not to wake her son. Pedri looked at her, a smile on his lips. He put his phone down on the couch and stretched his arms out to his woman. Isa smiled widely at the player, approaching with animated hops, and then sat on his lap, nestling her face into the crook of his neck. Pedri held her in a tight hug.
"I missed you," he mumbled. Isa pulled back to look at him and left a kiss on his lips, feeling the butterflies in her stomach take flight. Pedri held her face, kissing her forehead and hugging her once more.
"Our boy scored two goals today. He did my celebration for one of them, and for the other, he pointed to your dad, Gavi, and Fer; they almost cried," Pedri said with humor, looking at the little boy. Isa smiled, looking at her son. "Then he spent hours on a video call with my parents, telling them about the game, and when I sent them the video of his celebrations, they almost cried too." Isa pouted as she watched the photos and videos Pedri had taken, since her flight was delayed and she couldn’t see Axel’s game.
"And then he demanded that my mom come here to make his favorite food in celebration, so, well, they’re coming tomorrow." Isa smiled; Axel had his grandparents wrapped around his finger, and Isa felt her heart burst with how much he was loved by Pedri’s parents and brother. There were no fears, no tears—well, except when they had to go back home.
"Today some little girls were cheering for him..." Pedri said hesitantly. Isa looked at him quickly. "Then Fer asked, ‘Hey Axel, which one of these is your girlfriend?’ He got so red," Pedri said, laughing.
"Gavi joined in on the fun, and for the first time, I saw a fan—or rather, a Barcelona fan—give him a deadly look, and Gavi was so scared. I think he never expected to be disliked by a fan. Fer and your dad laughed so much at him, but your dad was ready to fight the little girl to defend his oldest grandson." Isa laughed heartily.
"I can’t leave you guys alone; you attract too much attention," Isa said jealously. She still wasn’t at peace with the attention Axel was getting and would receive. "And when Gavi is with you...I see the comments, your fans go crazy."
"Don’t worry, love. Me, and your two sons, are all yours." Isa grew serious, grateful for the turn the conversation had taken. "Well, Gavi more or less..." Isa rolled her eyes.
"Well, hopefully now at least a little girl will come to keep me company. It won’t even things out, but it’s a start." Pedri laughed and kissed Isa’s forehead, not seeming to catch on to what she had said. Isa remained silent, and so did Pedri, the room filled only with Axel’s sleepy breathing. Pedri pulled back, his eyes wide, finally realizing what she had said.
"Love...are you serious?" he said, emotional. Isa smiled widely at her husband.
"Congratulations, Daddy!" she whispered in Pedri’s ear. The player hugged her so tightly that Isa could feel her shirt getting wet from his tears.
"Thank you, thank you for giving them to me," Pedri said emotionally.
"Thank you, for choosing us, for embracing Axel and being the best dad in the world." Pedri sniffled, hugging her again. "Can you believe we’ll have another little voice calling ‘Pedriiii’ everywhere?" Pedri laughed, wiping his face.
"I’ll need to stock up on more M&Ms," Pedri joked, and Isa made a face.
"Love, can I tell you a secret? But you have to pretend you don’t know," Isa said seriously. Pedri looked at her, confused.
"Axel hates them," Isa said with humor.
"What?" Pedri asked, confused.
"M&Ms."
"What????" Pedri shouted, and Isa quickly covered the player’s mouth.
"Yes!!!" Isa said, laughing at his reaction.
"Isabella Gonzalez, impossible. He was so passionate about them." Pedri was too perplexed by such information.
"Because you liked them!!! And he mistook them for Skittles when he took them from my bag, and since he took them secretly, he couldn’t admit it...I think giving them to you was his way of getting rid of the evidence, but you ruined everything when you started giving them back to him." Pedri’s eyes widened, and Isa couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction.
"Wow, you mean our whole relationship might not exist if Axel had picked the right candy?" Pedri squinted, and Isa shrugged. "Nah, this would have happened anyway," Pedri concluded, pointing to the two of them, and Isa smiled at his admission. "Either way, your son is a great actor," Pedri said, laughing. Isa looked at him, offended.
"Oh, now he’s my son? When you want to impress your female audience, it’s my son here, my kid there," Isa rolled her eyes, making Pedri laugh.
"Baby, you’re the one who’s most impressed when I say those things," Pedri teased, and Isa smiled, embarrassed.
"I can’t believe he kept that secret for three years..." Pedri said, amused but finding the newly received information hilarious. Axel was something. Pedri looked at the boy sleeping peacefully on the couch and placed one of his hands on Isa’s belly, feeling extremely grateful for everything he had gained.
**********************************************
N/A: CRYING, SOBBING AND THROWING UP.
"I want to thank everyone who followed this story, all the likes, comments, and support made my days much better. I bid farewell to this story, but not definitively, because when Pedriiii and Isa speak in my head, I promise to bring it to you. My Gavi's girls, I promise I haven't forgotten about you, and there's a hint about his story in this chapter. My delusional mind took over in this chapter, and it firmly believes that next year the Champions League is ours. lol Visca El Barça!"
#pedri gonzalez#pedri imagine#pedri x reader#pedri#pedri gonzalez x reader#pedriiii#fc barcelona#barca#pablo gavi#gavi imagine
57 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yeosang Head Canons
genre: smut
warning: pussy lover!yeosang (kind of), marking, dick sucking (Yeosang teaches), and regular dick sucking, ab riding, squirting & more. Not proofread!
a/n: someone requested more atz head canons so here’s Yeosang’s (my bias) version! I was going to write his first and this has been in my drafts for a while. I’ve been tweaking it for so long 😭 I will be taking more requests just ask! and DM me if you want something specific (if you can do that I’m sorta new to tumblr!!)
Yeosang who looks very innocent and acts very innocent are mutual friends/yours or his friends, both of your families, and his members. But no one knows that when he gets you alone, he’s the complete opposite. He’s snapping his hips into yours at an insane speed, making it hard to be quiet. He leaves bruises on your neck which you later cover up so he can keep his innocence.
Yeosang who teaches you how to suck his cock. He’s not small, no. And he’s bigger than average so when you told him that you were scared, being inexperienced and all, he understood and promised to teach you how. He wrapped your hand around his cock and put his hand on top. Your hand looked so small comparing to him. He guided your hand up and down at a slow pace. Eventually he let go, his head falling back and letting you continue on for yourself. But when you started to speed up, he lifted his head with furrowed eyebrows. What shocked him even more was when you dragging your tongue on the tip of his leaking cock.
Yeosang who was too focused with the game on his phone to realize how needy you are. So, when you climbed onto his figure, which was lying down in bed, he had finally noticed your need. Wanting to finish his game, he told you to stand up and take your shorts off. You did as you were told and took them off. You watched as he pulled him shirt up to show his abs. He grabbed your arm, guiding you to sit on his abs. You continued to do as you were guided to do but you were still confused. Until. He held onto your hip with one hand and moved you back and forth on his abs. A broken moan left your lips as you felt the hard muscle grind against your clit. He tapped your thigh as a way to keep going while he played his game. You kept going until you came over his thigh, legs shaking.
Yeosang who is desperate to make you feel good on the night of your anniversary. The way he’s on his knees and is looking up at you, waiting to please and to taste you. He’s just waiting for you to give him permission. And when you finally do, he’s quick to sit up further on his knees and eat your pussy like you are his last meal. He made lots of noises and when you pulled his hair, he would groan against your clit, stimulating you more.
Yeosang who slaps your pussy until you’re squirting and cumming all of your thighs and his hand. Lying on the edge of the bed, Yeosang standing over you, slapping your pussy and forcing you to sit up on your elbows and watch in the mirror as he does so. And when you close your legs because it gets too much, he’ll force them open and slap harder, extending the punishment again and again.
Yeosang who lets you suck his dick after he had a long day of practice. He came home throwing his bag somewhere and sat down. You had came down and asked how to make him feel better after he said how tense and tired he was. He immediately went into a manspread. You got the hint, goes down and taking his dick out. Sucking his dick, you placed one hand on his knee and jerked his dick with the other. He moaned as you deepthroated him. He sat up a bit, taking your hair down from the ponytail and separated 3 pieces. He started to braid your hair as you sucked his dick. (Based on: Peppers by Lana)
Yeosang who keeps his head buried deep in your pussy. He was on his 2 week break and everyday since then, he’s been all touchy, and has fucked you every single day since he got off. But, today was different. He didn’t fuck you but he’s eaten you out ever since around 8pm. It’s now 12am. He’d give you breaks..sometimes! But, he loves the taste of your pussy and misses it too much. When he lifts his head, his chin is dripping with your juices.
Yeosang who uses his deep voice to lead you to your orgasm. Whispering things in your ear like, “come on baby, you’re so close. I can feel it”, “you’re clenching so hard, baby,” or “come on I got you. Cum, baby.” In the end, his words are what made your orgasm hit harder than it usually does.
Yeosang who wins a game and makes you strip. You and Yeosang were playing a game of Truth or Strip. If you can’t answer the question/truth given, then you have to strip. Yeosang, being the dirty cheater he is, asked you hard and embarrassing question. In the middle of the game, you only had a bra and a skirt on while Yeosang was fully clothed. You ended up sighing and just taking all of your clothes anyway. You suddenly found both of yourselves naked and making out on Yeosang’s bed.
#kpop#smut#ateez#ateez atiny#ateez hard hours#ateez hard thoughts#ateez smut#yeosang#yeosang hard thoughts#yeosang hard hours#yeosang smut
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
Short Debts Make Long Friends - Chapter 19.3 snippet!
“I’m going to take care of you,” he breathes, moving overtop of you as you lay back. “You’re going to let me. Say it.”
You don’t seem to quite know how to respond – not much of a surprise, he’s never behaved in this manner before, but you reach for him without hesitation when he lowers himself between your thighs.
“Say it, cyare,” he urges, sliding an arm under your hips.
You manage a faltered, “I’m going to let you –”
He doesn’t wait for you to finish, roughly pulling you forward to slot your pelvis against his.
“It’s just you and me right now,” he continues, voice straining as he rewards you with a slow thrust of his hips. He dips his head, grazing his nose from the hollow of your throat, up to your neck and along your jawline, and murmurs into your ear. “Don’t think about anything else.”
“I won’t,” you promise, and gasp when he drives against you again, harder.
“Nothing else,” he repeats. “Just this room, just this bed — just us.”
“Just us,” you echo, panting now.
“Good girl,” he breathes approvingly.
Short Debts Make Long Friends - An overeducated, underpaid millennial finally gets to go on her first adventure.
LoOk, it iS an pOem !
"I hate the plot gremlins oh yes I do
this is the end of the haiku"
(I did a trial of a new antidepressant right after I updated SD last month. Pros: Titrating up to the full dose was akin to tripping balls resulted in some very productive text conversations between myself and colleagues.
Cons: Meds zapped the creative part of my brain. It's not an unknown side effect of psychotropic medication, I was able to switch to something different and I think it's a better fit, but OMG. Please send good vibes and remind me why I need to finish this story. I deal with writer's block constantly, but this is a different beast completely and it's freaking me out.
@last-of-cheese
@ababysupernova
@onlydrawnbad
@myswficlist
@mariwinns16
@mandindjarin
@coffeebeforewater
@terecord
@leithatnight
@lokiofstoriesalwaysthemselves
@djarins-cyare
@shsoba05
@sleepingghoule444
@sjdraws-00
@dontletyourchildrenwatchthis
@moondirti
@teehee-47
@jbarness
@cecilyjmorgenstern
@reileth
@mareebird
@essence-stealer
@itchyfly
@stagerightlauren
@jackieblogsstuff
@camishadjarin
@ellenmunn
@xoxo-lyss
@princessofclovers
@ezrasleftarm
@onlydrawnbadreads
@brighterthanlonelywords
@caffiend-queen
@dindenimchicken
@harriedandharassed
@everythingiwanttoread
@nightlore106
@senassn
@greensabereyesforcevictim
@chickenshit03
@anniet852
@dinnerisserveddjarin
#short debts make long friends#mando x reader#din x reader#din djarin x female reader#mando x original female character#din djarin x reader#the mandalorian#the mandalorian fanfiction#baby yoda#din djarin#aplenzin
52 notes
·
View notes
Text
Seven Six Five - Part Two
Summary: They met once seven years ago. Now music has made them cross paths again.
Warnings: smut, body image issues, angst. 18+ ONLY!
A/N: Enemies to Lovers. This was originally written and posted in 2020, right before the pandemic, so the story takes place then with flashbacks of 2013. Harry Styles x Plus Size OC, written in third person.
Part Two Word Count: 3.6k+
STORY PAGE
26 February, 2020 - New York, NY, USA
Releasing her hands from the keyboard, Bronwyn sat back in her chair with a sigh. She’d done it. The NPR review was completed; and after being edited and submitted for approval, it was now live. It had been a daunting task to write about someone she despised. But after a long, restless night, and heaps of caffeine, she’d managed to get something produced. Despite her inner voice wanting to express exactly what she thought of him, her article on Harry Styles was at the very least an unbiased one, if not a positive one.
Satisfied with her work, and glad to finally put it to rest, Bronwyn decided to get some rest of her own. Closing her laptop, she took a trip to the loo before settling under the piles of blankets on her bed. She’d barely closed her eyes, however, when she heard the all-familiar ringtone come from her cell on the nightstand. The screen announced it was Antonella calling, and had it been anyone else, she would have turned off the ringer and told whomever it was to piss off, albeit silently. But because it was her vivacious agent, she knew it was a pertinent call.
“Congratulations, darling!” Antonella declared as soon as Bronwyn pressed the speaker. “I knew you had it in you!”
“Thanks,” Bronwyn smirked as she shifted herself on her pillow.
“I assume your conflict of interest was sorted out?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way…”
“No? Well, I’m glad you put aside whatever differences you had, at least for the time being. I’m looking at the beautiful photos you took, and the fellow is...how do you say…”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” Bronwyn interrupted.
“Didn’t what?”
“Say anything about how he looks.”
“Bronwyn!” Antonella tsked before lowering her voice to a hushed tone. “You had relations with this young man, no?”
“No. Not exactly,” Bronwyn muttered.
She could hear her agent breathing as she was obviously waiting for more juicy details. But Bronwyn wasn’t at liberty nor in the mood to give any.
“Fine then, I won’t press,” Antonella promised. “It’s over and done. Just called to tell you what a fabulous job you did.”
“Better than Dennis, huh?” Bronwyn chided.
Antonella snorted. “If I didn’t adore you so much, I’d tell you to fuck off.”
Bronwyn giggled. “The feeling’s mutual, love.”
Pressing the button to disconnect the call, Bronwyn noticed a notification for a missed one. It wasn’ a number she recognised, but that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. She was used to receiving calls about various jobs or from websites or magazines, so it was difficult to really screen her calls. The caller, however, didn’t leave a message, so she turned off her phone and situated herself into her own warm cocoon before drifting off to sleep.
The early afternoon sun shone through the flimsy curtains and awoke Bronwyn like an unwelcomed acquaintance. With a deep yawn and a stretch, she kicked off the blankets and reached for her phone, turning it back on. Before she could even check the time, the screen alerted her of two more missed calls from that same number that had rung earlier, but still had left no voicemail. Whomever they were, they were persistent but still wished to remain anonymous. Bronwyn considered just ringing them back, but first, nature called.
After a stop in the bathroom, she padded to her small kitchen with another yawn, prepared to make a pot of coffee. When she opened the cupboard, however, she was reminded that she’d used the rest of what she’d had the night before. With a groan, she settled for tea which wouldn’t quite satisfy, but would have to do. Just as she set the kettle on the stove, the phone that she’d left on her bed sounded its chime. Seeing the mystery caller’s number again, she decided to answer.
“‘Ello?”
“Bronwyn?”
“Yes, this is she.”
“Thank God,” he said, exasperated. “I’ve been trying to get you all day.”
“I’m sorry. Who is this?”
The mystery caller gave a deep chuckle, and before he could give his name, Bronwyn knew who it was.
“No, I’m sorry. It’s Harry Styles.”
“Harry.” That was it. Just his first name. No hi or hello. No good to hear from you or glad you called. Just Harry. A statement, even, not a question.
“Hi,” he greeted. “How are you?”
“I’m...okay. Uh...how’d you get my number?”
Harry chuckled again which made Bronwyn clench her teeth.
“I have my ways.”
Bronwyn rolled her eyes. “Of course you do.”
“I got it through NPR. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I guess not,” she muttered.
“I suppose I should tell you why I’m calling. I saw your article online, and I wanted to thank you.”
“Oh?” She wasn’t sure why she should’ve been surprised. It was about him. Of course he’d read it.
“Yeah, it was really well-done, and your photos were excellent.”
“Thanks,” said Bronwyn, nonchalantly as she traced the pattern on one of her blankets.
“Also, I’m…” Harry hesitated. “I’m also calling for another reason.”
“You are?”
“It was really good to see you again, and I hated that you had to leave in a rush.”
“Well, you know, those articles don’t write themselves,” Bronwyn remarked sarcastically.
Harry giggled then, making Bronwyn want to throw something. She looked around the bed, but only found a discarded empty tissue box. It made an insignificant thud as it hit the bathroom door frame.
“I’d like to thank you properly, Bronwyn,” said Harry. “I’m in New York now. I’ll be here for the rest of the week. Can we meet somewhere? For dinner or drinks?”
Nearly dropping her phone at his inquiry, Bronwyn jumped as the kettle began to whistle.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Harry,” Bronwyn replied in a rush as she reached for the stove. “I don’t-.”
“I know you’re probably busy, but I’d love to catch up. It’s been so long and...I’d hate to know we’re in the same city, and I can’t even say hello.”
Bronwyn gave a saucy laugh. “I thought that’s why you called.”
“I mean in person,” said Harry, still not catching on to her tone. “Doesn’t have to be dinner. Just coffee, if that suits.”
The warm kettle in her hand, Bronwyn remembered how badly she’d wanted coffee. She’d still have to get dressed to go fetch it, but at least she could go to her favourite cafe and have some company…
Wait. Am I really considering this?, she thought.
“Please?” she heard him ask.
Well, she was right about one thing. The mystery caller was persistent. That only added to the long list of other adjectives she had going for him like deceitful, fake, obnoxious and contemptuous, although admittedly that list also included charming, handsome and talented. With a sigh of surrender, she poured the hot water out into the sink.
“The Corner Cafe,” she said. “I’ll meet you there. Four o’clock okay with you?”
“It’s fine. What corner is it on?”
“Google it,” ordered Bronwyn. “That’s the name of the cafe.”
“Not a very original name.”
Managing to crack a smile, Bronwyn opened her bureau and pulled out a pair of jeans and a jumper.
“Four o’clock, Harry. See you then.”
Pressing the button to hang up before he could say anything else, Bronwyn dropped her phone on the bed next to the clothes she’d just picked out and turned for the bathroom.
“What the fuck are you doing, Bronwyn?” she asked herself aloud as she stepped into the shower. “You have gone and lost your mind.”
Despite the bright, cloudless day, there was still a brisk chill in the air. Bronwyn pulled the collar of her coat up, wishing she’d brought her hat and scarf. Fortunately, the walk to the Corner Cafe was short, and she arrived well before time to meet Harry. Ordering her favourite latte, she decided on a chicken salad sandwich as well, since she hadn’t anything to eat after her long nap. Choosing a table in the corner by the window, she shrugged out of her coat, placing it on the back of the chair. Biting into her sandwich, she saw a small crowd form just outside. She wondered what the commotion was about until a girl turned around with her hand over her mouth, her phone in her hand.
It was not uncommon for Bronwyn to see a celebrity or two on the street. Granted, it was not an everyday occurrence, but she’d walked by a few since living in New York. Just last week she saw Jimmy Fallon and his wife at a pizza joint she frequented. Even being somewhat in the business, she still got starstruck from time to time. What she did not do, however, was disturb a celebrity when they were having dinner or even stop them on the street to ask for a selfie. She adored her privacy, and tried to respect others’. She wondered how famous people handled it all. She reckoned she’d go mad.
Within minutes, by the time she’d just about finished the first half of her sandwich, the crowd dispersed and a tall figure in a black hoodie turned and made his way to the cafe door. When the bell jingled, Bronwyn looked up from her latte to see him pause and scan the room. Their eyes connecting, he smiled with a small wave of his hand before walking up to the counter to place his order. Bronwyn took in his appearance - a black hoodie, black sweats and black trainers. She wondered how on earth anyone had recognised him at all. Perhaps it was the large pink tote bag he was carrying on his shoulder. She snorted to herself, taking another bite from her sandwich. Grateful the cafe was somewhat empty except for a couple of people hastily typing away on their laptops, she waited as Harry received his beverage and strolled towards her.
“I promise I tried my best to be on time,” he declared, his free hand on his chest.
“You are,” remarked Bronwyn. “I was early.”
“Ah!” Harry nodded, placing his cup on the table across from her.
She caught the look on his face as he paused again, clearly waiting for her to rise for a hug or kiss on the cheek. When she didn’t, he bit his lip, removed the bag from his shoulder and sat down.
“You look lovely,” he said.
For a second, Bronwyn was about to look down at her rose coloured jumper when she remembered his comment was probably automatic, and not necessarily sincere. Still, she wasn’t one to ignore or dismiss a compliment.
“Thank you,” she muttered.
“Sorry I look like a right slob. I was hoping to look inconspicuous.”
Bronwyn couldn’t help but smirk. “Didn’t work out for you, no?”
“Oh, you noticed?”
Bronwyn shrugged. “I might’ve caught something through the window.”
Harry’s shoulders shook as she chuckled low. “Could’ve been worse. At least it was just a few.”
“I couldn’t stand it,” Bronwyn shook her head as she wiped her hands on the napkin. “I dunno how you do it.”
“You get used to it.”
“I doubt it. I value my privacy too much.”
Harry was quiet as Bronwyn pushed aside her nearly empty plate and took a sip from her latte. She eyed his ringed fingers as they picked up his own drink and brought it to his lips.
“So, how’ve you been?” he finally asked, setting down his cup.
“You asked me that already.”
“When?” Harry raised a brow.
“Yesterday. Unless you meant, how’ve I been since then.”
Harry smirked and shook his head. “No, I guess not. I reckon I’m just interested in what you’ve been doing since...I saw you last.”
“Are you really?” Bronwyn asked flatly.
“Of course. You live here in New York now,” he said.
“Yeah.”
“And you still take photos.”
“Yeah.”
“And you do freelance work.”
“Yep.”
“What else?”
Bronwyn pursed her lips and shrugged. “That’s...pretty much it.”
“Oh, c’mon, there must be something else,” argued Harry as he leant forward. “Tell me more about you.”
Trying not to roll her eyes at him, Bronwyn sighed.
“I…” she began, holding her arms out at her sides, “still look the same.”
“Yeah, you do,” Harry grinned widely. “That’s why I recognised you so quickly. Your hair might be a wee bit shorter, maybe a little darker…”
“Hmm…” Bronwyn pondered.
“No cute, short dress or boots though,” Harry added, taking a peek under the table.
A laugh left Bronwyn’s throat before she could stop it, and one from Harry soon followed. She felt the blush in her cheeks and quickly cleared her throat.
“You still into the vintage stuff?” Harry asked.
“Of course. I just don’t regularly parade around in it at four o’clock on a Wednesday. In February.”
Harry giggled again, his eyes squinting.
Please stop doing that, Bronwyn thought. This is hard enough for me without you being so...ugh.
She didn’t want to admit that she still found him so incredibly attractive. Years may have separated their last encounter, but it wasn’t as though she hadn’t seen his face since that night. Despite her persistence in trying to avoid having anything to do with One Direction, they had been a massively popular band. When she’d heard of their split, followed by the buzz of Harry’s rising solo career, she’d continued to keep her distance as much as possible. Sat across from him now in a quiet cafe, his green eyes trying their best to read hers, the memories of seven years ago came flooding back.
“That reminds me,” announced Harry, interrupting her thoughts. “I brought you something.”
Raising her brows in question, Bronwyn watched Harry pick up the tote bag by his feet and hand it to her.
“I remember how you prefer vinyl, so I thought you might like that,” he added.
Taking the bag from him, Bronwyn hesitantly opened it and pulled out an album, Harry’s pointing pose adorning the front cover.
“This is your album,” she frowned.
“You don’t have a copy already, do you?”
“No. I actually listened to it on Spotify.”
“Oh. Good, then,” Harry grinned.
“Thanks,” Bronwyn commented dryly. “Do you...um...want the tote bag back?”
“No, no. I brought that for you to carry it in. So you won’t be walking home with my face under your arm,” he laughed.
“How thoughtful.”
She could feel his eyes on her as she hung the tote on the back of her chair. Looking back at him, she caught the deep frown on his face before he lifted his coffee cup to his mouth. No doubt she had hurt his feelings, or at least bruised his ego a bit. But she didn’t care. She found it utterly conceited of him to assume she’d want a copy of his record. But then...of course he did. That’s why he was there with her. It was all about the article she’d written about him. His music. His album. How stupid she was to even consider anything else.
“Well um...I’m glad you liked my article,” she said, trying to soften the blow a bit, and also hopefully end their meeting soon.
“I did,” Harry nodded, lowering his cup. “But that’s not really why I called you. I said that, right?”
“Why did you?”
A smile twitching at his lips, Harry leant forward again. “You think I call everyone who writes something about me?”
Oh fuck off, are you joking?
“You mean, you don’t?” Bronwyn asked, playing his game.
Harry laughed, resting his chin in his hand. “Bronwyn, love. What happened that night?”
“What night?”
Rolling his eyes, Harry scoffed. “What’dya mean, what night? The night. The film premiere. You and I.”
“It’s you and me,” Bronwyn corrected. “Why do people always get that wrong?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“I had to leave,” she answered softly.
“Without saying goodbye?”
“Something came up.”
“What something?”
Her eyes involuntarily began to water, and she looked around the room. “Can we not talk about this now? It was a long time ago.”
Harry stared at her for what felt like minutes as she finished the last sips of her coffee. Finally resolving to the fact that she wasn’t going to give him a legitimate answer, he sat back with a sigh.
“Alright then.”
“Right,” Bronwyn agreed. “So, if we’re done, I do need to get home. I have some work to do.”
Harry didn’t bother to hide the disappointed look on his face this time. He rose from his chair as Bronwyn stood and grabbed the tote bag and her coat. He startled her when he took her coat from her and held it out for her to slip her arms inside.
“Thank you,” she barely whispered, looking at the ground. “And thanks for the...um...vinyl.”
“You’re welcome. I’d hoped to buy you coffee and perhaps something to eat, but you’d beat me to it.”
“Sorry,” she managed a shy grin. “I was hungry. I’d slept all day, what with being up all night writing. That’s why I came early. I wasn’t expecting you to...I mean, you didn’t have to buy me anything.”
“Ah, I see,” Harry grinned back. “Well...I hate to say goodbye, Bronwyn. But it really was good to see you. I hope it’s not another...seven years until we meet again.”
Giving a tight smile, Bronwyn nodded. “Well, goodbye, Harry. Take care.”
This time she allowed him a short embrace as he kissed her cheek. Then he held the door open as she slipped outside into the cold air. Harry said another goodbye before shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. Bronwyn strode swifty down the sidewalk until coming to a stop, turning only to watch him pull his hood over his head and cross the street before wiping her wet eyes and walking the rest of the way home.
20 August, 2013 - London, England, UK
Nah, nah nah, nah nah nah nah!
Bronwyn giggled as she swayed against Harry’s body as he stood behind her, his arms wound around her while her own waved high in the air. The entire room had decided to join in a chorus of the Beatles’ “Hey Jude”, and in their overt intoxicated state, she and Harry were happy to include themselves in the mix.
Bronwyn felt like she was on cloud nine. She’d been having the best time with Harry all evening. Not only was he cute and charming, as well as a bit cheeky, but he was also a gentleman, continuously asking if she was okay, if she needed anything. After several drinks and a raiding of the buffet, she was surprised that he had stuck around, never leaving her side except to go to the toilet. They chatted with several people throughout the night, including a couple of his bandmates, but mostly they just enjoyed each other’s company and getting to know each other.
By the time the song was over, Harry had his face in the crook of her neck. His breath gave her goosebumps, but she hoped to God he wouldn’t release her just yet.
“Come with me,” he requested, his voice low in her ear.
“Where?” she asked, her hands on his arms that were still around her.
“Somewhere...away from here.”
Unsure if he was being literal or figurative, Bronwyn grabbed his hand, loosening his grip. Turning to face him, she smiled up at his heavily hooded eyes.
“C’mon,” she beckoned, pulling in towards the door.
They made it out into the hallway, a set of lifts in front of them, two more hallways on either side.
“Which way, darling?” she asked him. “Take your pick.”
Tugging her arm, Harry chose the hallway on the left, guiding her to where exactly, she didn’t know. Nor did she care. She was just so happy to be with him, she would have followed him anywhere.
When they reached a closed door on the right, Harry stopped and tried the knob. Locked. Then he tried another. Locked as well.
“Bugger,” he scowled.
Bronwyn giggled, finding his pout fetching.
“I reckon they don’t want any hanky panky going on here,” she commented.
Harry glared at her, feigning shock. “Who said anything about hanky panky?”
“Oh please!” she ribbed, playfully poking him in the side.
“Heyyyy,” he laughed before pulling her closer.
Bronwyn stared at him as he beamed at her, flipping her insides so much it felt like a gymnastics team doing somersaults.
“Let’s see what’s down this way,” he urged, pulling her with him once again.
At the end of the hall was a small alcove. It wasn’t much, but no one was in view, and it was probably the best privacy they were going to get. Guiding her inside, Harry pressed her against the wall, his hands on her hips.
“I do kinda fancy you,” he confessed, his eyes dancing while his lips were so close to hers they almost touched.
“I kinda figured that out,” Bronwyn nodded with a smirk.
Another glorious smile spread across Harry’s face as Bronwyn slid her hands up his arms. He continued to stare at her, like he was examining every feature of her face, piece by piece. She liked the way he looked at her, but the fire that had already ignited down below was now aflame.
“Only one thing I can’t figure out though, and it’s been driving me mad, Harry,” she added.
His eyebrows lifted in question as his perfect lips fell into a look of perplexity.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Why it’s taking you so bloody long to kiss me.”
What do you think of Harry and Bronwyn so far?? Please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!
MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fic#harry styles series#harry styles x oc#harry styles smut#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles one shot#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#harry fanfiction#harry fan fiction#harry fanfic#harry fan fic#harry fic#harry series#harry x oc#harry smut#harry angst#harry fluff#harry one shot#harry imagine#harry blurb#real harry fic#plus size oc#2020 harry
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
Little Love
Love Bites, Chapter 3 // Love Bites {Masterlist}
Ship: Astarion Ancunin x fem!vampire spawn!elf!Tav/reader
Summary: Appearances can be deceiving, but they can also tell you everything you need to know. A second look at the elf you once called a friend is all you need to fill in the two-hundred year gap.
Word Count: 4,631 words
Warnings: flashback within a flashback (your perspective), alcohol, Astarion's parents (I gave them my own names), grave desecration, grief
☟ Continue below the fold ☟
Astarion never went back to the same tavern twice. Not for many years, at least. But, against his better judgment, he went back to yours, three nights later.
He wasn’t sure what was drawing him back, not really. It wasn’t as if this particular tavern seemed very promising. Its patrons were, well, regular people. Nothing about them seemed particularly special. In fact, it was probably more dangerous to be going back so soon—for all Astarion knew, Rahul’s friends were still loitering there and would kill him the moment they saw the man Rahul had left the tavern with. The last man who ever saw Rahul alive.
His other victims from the past two nights were inconsequential. They hadn’t insisted on telling him their names, the male druid and female elf who had each been a little more than an hour’s worth of his time combined. They had been easy targets, lonely people who were all too easy to seduce. He almost felt bad for them. But not as bad as he felt about Rahul. Both nights, Astarion had jolted out of his trances with a shout upon hearing Rahul’s screams in his dreams again. Both times, he’d been rewarded by Godey with a whipping.
Even as he walked into the tavern, Astarion wasn’t sure what he was doing. It was only after the door had swung shut behind him, hitting a little bell as it did, and you looked over from the bar and raised a hand in greeting did he realize why he’d come back.
He locked eyes with you as he made his way toward a small table in the corner. He paused, watching you. There was something in your eyes that made the tension in his shoulders disappear.
You’d done your hair differently today. It was braided back, a couple strands of it loose around your face, clearly having escaped during your work. Your beautiful face had morphed into an expression of surprise, like you were shocked to see him here again.
But there was something else in it—the slightest bit of repressed hope, an expression Astarion had seen all too often on the faces of his victims just before they died, when they still thought he might save them from his master.
On your face, though, hope was comforting. You looked almost…relieved to see him.
Before he realized what he was doing, Astarion turned toward the bar and sat directly in front of you. He heard your breath catch in your throat and your pulse speed up and for a moment he felt a twinge of regret. You, too, would make an easy target.
You recovered quickly, however. You finished wiping down the bartop and dropped the rag into the sink. You leaned on the bartop. “What can I get you tonight, sir?”
“A glass of your finest red wine,” he says after a moment of thought.
Something minute in your face changed. You blinked too fast and hid the look in your eyes, but for a moment the façade of a bartender serving a patron disappeared. It was only a second, but was enough for the gears in Astarion’s head to start turning.
You laughed with a smile on your face. “You’re going to have to be more specific, hun. The ‘finest red wine’ changes from person to person. What kind of flavor are you going for?”
Hun. The moniker stood out in Astarion’s mind, dominating every other word you’d said. Hun, short for honey, and for some reason, he could hear the complete word in your voice: softer, gentler, loving. Not at all the way a bartender speaks to her patrons.
Only after you raised your brow did Astarion remember you’d asked him a question. He shook himself out of his head. “Oh, something full-bodied,” he said.
“Now that I can work with,” you said. You turned to search your shelves and Astarion watched you release a long breath very slowly. You wiped your palms on your pants before reaching up and sliding a bottle from its place. You presented the bottle to him. “How about this?”
Astarion studied the label and vintage. “I’ll admit, I’ve never heard of it,” he said, shrugging idly. “But if you think I’ll like it, I’m inclined to trust you.”
He watched you cut off the wax seal and uncork the bottle. You poured enough for a tasting into the glass and slid it across the bartop to him.
“How does that taste?”
Astarion sniffed the wine before swallowing it down. Pleasantly, it didn’t taste like vinegar, like most wines he’d had the bad luck to drink in tavern after tavern. He could taste the alcohol and the grapes and the blackberry undertones easily, all melding together wonderfully.
“This,” he said, passing back the glass, “is absolutely what I am looking for.”
You grinned and filled up the glass. “I thought it might be.”
Astarion swirled his glass while you re-corked the bottle and set it in ice. He watched as you helped another patron sitting at the bar, a middle-aged woman complaining about her husband being out of work and asking if there was perhaps a job for him at the tavern.
You calmed her as you made her cocktail, talking soothingly and nodding in sympathy as she complained about trying to feed their infant. It was your sympathy that made Astarion feel pity for the woman.
Something about you was achingly familiar. There were times when you spoke, certain words that you said, that struck a chord in him, simply because they sounded familiar. The way you moved behind the bar, so graceful in a space that was unbearably small, seemed comfortable to Astarion, as if he would be able to anticipate your movements and react accordingly if he were to join you behind the bar.
It was almost painful, this feeling of familiarity and alienation combining in one person. It was like the nights when Astarion first realized he was forgetting his life before being a vampire where he would sit in the dark and grasp at straws for pieces of his life, only for his mother’s face to fade into nothingness and his father’s voice to be lost in the shadows forever and—
A twinge of pain split through Astarion. It was nothing compared to the pain Cazador or Godey regularly inflicted on him, but it was enough to make him flinch anyway. He rubbed his temple as if he could will the building migraine away.
Your eyes flicked over to him, watching the motion with concern, but it just confused Astarion further. You reacted to him so readily, so easily. If it hadn’t been for how innately close and familiar you felt, Astarion would simply have chalked it up to your attraction for him. It wasn’t unlike his prey to keep a close eye on him. But he hadn’t even picked you as his victim for the night, he hadn’t even attempted to seduce you yet. This was entirely of your own accord.
You gave the woman her drink and pulled your braid over your shoulder as you helped the female tiefling Astarion had seen and considered taking back to Cazador the other day. Suddenly he was very glad he hadn’t; the disappearance of a regular might have been enough to force him out of this part of town for several months at least.
Astarion glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the tavern. He didn’t see the group Rahul had been with anywhere; perhaps they had already moved on, without a care in the world for their lost friend or comrade or what have you.
Perhaps they thought Rahul had settled into a happy life with a nice young man and would be staying here to live out his days, enjoying nights of passion and drinks at a nice tavern and playing the protector of the pretty boy elf he’d left with.
Astarion wasn’t sure if it was for his own sake or Rahul’s that he wished that such a fantasy was what they believed.
As you gave the tiefling a glass of champagne, your eyes strayed back to Astarion. He caught your glance and grinned.
“Surprised to see me still sitting here?” he teased.
You shrugged. “You were here three days ago and vanished without a trace. Forgive me if I feel like you might blow away in the wind.”
“Sometimes it feels like I might.” The words slipped out without any thought behind them. For a moment, Astarion wondered what the hell was wrong with him to dare say such a thing, but your sympathetic smile soothed him.
The talent of a well-practiced bartender, he thought. Get your patrons to loosen up, ply them for more liquor, take home more money—all by smiling and charming and flirting. From one actor to another, I must hand it to her. She’s quite good at this kind of thing.
“Wanna talk about it?” you asked, propping your head up on your hand. The movement exposed more of your cleavage, but judging from the look in your eyes, Astarion guessed that wasn’t your purpose in the movement. You genuinely wanted him to open up.
Your gaze stopped him from speaking. Your eyes were clear and focused entirely on him. You weren’t like the other bartenders he’d chatted up in the past, with their shifting eyes betraying how they were never really focused on him but instead on their tavern and the other patrons they could squeeze more coin out of.
And, what’s more, your lips formed a soft smile. Joy and love and the sun itself seemed to radiate from you and your expressive face. You looked at him the way a young woman ought to look at her betrothed, with the purity of young love, much more genuine than the pseudo-love and lust he so often saw in his victims.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Astarion whispered, unable to stop himself from asking.
You realized yourself quite suddenly. Your face dropped and Astarion wanted to beg you to look at him like that again, to apologize and say he never wanted you to stop looking at him like that—he just wanted to know why? Why had you chosen him to be the object of your affections?
Your eyes dipped to the bartop, where his fingers still held the stem of his glass. “I’m sorry,” you said softly. “You— You remind me of someone I know. Someone I miss.”
“A lover?” Astarion guessed, attempting to make it into a tease.
“More than that,” you said, your voice impossibly soft and serious. You fiddled with the strings on your corset. “He was my best friend.”
Astarion’s heart sank in his chest. “Was?”
You nodded slowly. “He died. A long, long time ago.” You shake yourself out of the sorrow that settled on you like a blanket. “You just so happen to look a lot like him. Hells, you even sound like him, just a little bit. I’m sorry if that made…this…strange. You just…sort of brought him back to me, for a moment.”
“Not at all,” Astarion said quietly. “I’m…happy to have brought you that.”
You nodded, lost in your thoughts, your eyes fixated on his. Your lower lip trembled. You sought words, but came up empty handed. All you said was, again, “You remind me of him.”
~❊~
It’s him. By the gods, it’s really him.
You kept busy for the rest of the night, watching Astarion out of the corner of your eye. For he was Astarion, you were certain of that now. Hearing his voice, smooth and suave and the same as you remembered had confirmed it for you. The moment he’d requested your finest red wine, you could hear him calling you darling, could hear your name rolling off his tongue.
He didn’t remember you, that much was obvious. Some part of you was glad he didn’t, because you weren’t sure what you would have done if he had remembered who you were. You had to focus on that gladness, or else you were going to focus on the disappointment, which made you want to sit on the floor and cry like you had when you’d first received word that he was dead—the kind of crying that left you shaking and never seemed to stop and sounded more like screams than anything else.
You were also quite certain he would not be flirting with the young elf sitting next to him if he remembered you, his best friend since birth and lover of nearly two decades.
Perhaps even more obvious than his lack of memory was how he was alive—or rather, undead, for it was quite clear he was a vampire. He was careful to hide his fangs, but the red eyes were enough for you to know, combined with the paleness of his skin and the color of the skin around his eyes. It might have been two hundred years, but you knew your lover well-enough to know he had not been quite so pale in his life.
The realization of what he was answered a question that had lingered in your mind for years, ever since you’d paid a visit to his desecrated grave. The city had explained the dug-up earth to be the vandalism of the gang that had first attacked and killed him and had assured you and the Ancunins that Astarion’s coffin had not been touched; his body remained inside.
Clearly, they had been wrong.
You glanced at Astarion. The smug, seductive, confident look on his face was that of a practiced lover, nothing like the goofy and slightly shy boy you had made love to. You wondered what happened, but knew a lot could happen in the two hundred years between now and that terrible night.
~❊~
The Ancunins walked hand-in-hand. You were just ahead of them, leading the way to their son’s grave, a plot you had chosen to keep their beautiful boy in the sun at high noon. It was far from high noon now; they had chosen to visit the grave in the night, certain they would be attacked by the Gur who had killed their boy if they were seen mourning.
It was a beautiful night, the kind of night you and Astarion would have loved. He would have held your hand and helped you to climb up to the roof, and you would have sat there for hours, cuddling and talking and admiring the stars he’d been named after. He would have told you about his day at work and played with your bracelets and rings when talking about the difficult rulings he’d made that day made him anxious all over again. He would have wrapped his cloak around your shoulders when you got cold. He would have kissed your nose when you asked to go back to the safety of the bed you shared. He would have helped you climb down and would have put you to bed, only to go stand on the balcony to stare up at the sky for a few moments more.
He loved the night, and this was the kind of night he would have wanted to have lasted forever: not so cold that you shivered instantly, but cold enough to have a chill bite in the air. Bats danced in the air and wisps of clouds moved across the moon and stars. Pale light illuminated the world in a hauntingly beautiful way. It seemed particularly cruel.
His mother trembled terribly. Already, silver tear tracks stained her cheeks. You had never seen Selwynn so frail, so scared. Even when she’d found out her son had been murdered, she hadn’t been the skeleton she was now. No, then she had been a fire, screaming and raging and demanding answers until the tears started coming. Now she was a ghost, silent and pale, her veins stark against her skin. All the life and color had drained from her in the past few days.
His father fared better, but not by much. Thesan’s eyes were sunken, his hair matted and limp, the whites of his eyes bloodshot, though he had not cried at all since he heard the news, unlike his wife. He hadn’t been resting, but then again, none of you had. More than once, your mother had stumbled across you in the night to find you in the kitchen, staring sightlessly into the dark, a glass of water held limply in your hand.
You were glad you hadn’t let them see the body. Looking at them now, you were certain it would have broken them to see their golden boy without life. It had been enough to break you; let them, at least, live out their long lives with their last memories of their son being of him alive and smiling and kissing them goodbye as he left for work.
Somewhere in the graveyard, an owl called. Another answered. Mice squeaked and scattered nearby, scurrying for shelter amongst the fallen leaves and in the shadows of tall graves.
“Where is he?” Astarion’s mother asked. Her voice was little more than a faint whisper, lost easily in the slightest breeze. Gone was the strong, operatic voice that had once sung her son to sleep when he was little. “Where’s my son?”
“Patience, darling,” Thesan said, sounding just as—if not more—tired as she.
“He’s just ahead,” you promised. You looked forward to where you knew his grave to be. Through the grey dark, you read his name on the stone and it felt wrong, like it went against the grain of your life to see him like this—a stone instead of a young man.
The three of you came to a rest before the headstone. You took a step back and let them crouch before their son. Silence fell heavily over them and the cemetery. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes; you looked down so they couldn’t see you cry. They’d seen enough of your tears.
“Astarion,” Selwynn whispered, her voice wavering. She reached out to touch the stone, tracing her son’s name carved into it with care. For a moment, she seemed to be at peace, looking at his name. It didn’t last. In moments, she crumbled with a cry that was a cross between a sob and a scream.
She keeled forward, grabbing the stone and pressing her forehead to it. She inhaled sharply and coughed on her own tears. When she finally cleared her throat, helped by her husband rubbing her back, her cries became wails that shook her entire body. The freshly turned dirt beneath her began to stain her pale grey dress.
Thesan puts an arm around his wife’s back, comforting her the only way he could, and he put his palm on the top of the stone. He began murmuring in Elvish, too low for you to hear clearly, but you caught a few words and understood he was whispering for his son to find safety in the afterlife, until he was reborn. After a moment, his broad shoulders began to shake and your heart cracked in half as you realized he was crying for the first time. His tears interrupted his speech every so often.
You wiped your tears from your eyelashes and sat on the ground. You hugged your legs to your chest, biting your lip so hard you drew blood to keep yourself from crying again.
His father looked up at the starry sky, a fist raised in anger. “He’s still a child!” he shouted. “A child! And he’s in the godsdamned ground!”
A sharp cry came from Astarion’s mother and she got to her feet so quickly she knocked her husband to the ground. She looked at you and you rose from where you sat.
“I can’t stay here,” she gasped through tears. “He’s beneath me. I can’t— He— He shouldn’t be… He should be in my arms! In your arms! But he’s beneath me!”
She looked at the ground like she might start digging it up to see her little boy again. You took her hands in hers, holding her tightly.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to stay. You can go. It’s okay. He’ll understand. He knows, I promise you he knows,” you whispered. A tear rolled down your cheek.
Selwynn squeezed her eyes shut. “I just want him to be okay…”
“He is okay,” you promised. “He is with the gods. They’ll send him back to us, one day, in a new body.”
Her lower lip trembled. “But he won’t be my son anymore.”
“There can always be more children,” Thesan started, speaking hesitantly.
“No!” she snapped, almost screamed, at him. She drew in a deep breath and shook her head. Calmer, she repeated, “No.”
He nodded. “I thought not.” He wrapped her in his arms and she cried into his chest. He opened his arm to you and you joined them in their hug. “You are still our daughter, even if you are not marrying our son. You are…the only family we have left.”
A small sob escaped you. Your body trembled as you looked up at him; you had always thought Astarion resembled his mother more, but now all you could see was the man Astarion would never get to be in his father’s face. “Thank you.”
He kissed his wife’s hair. “Come, darling. We should get home. You need to rest.”
You led them out of the cemetery. It was only after you were closing the gate leading into it that Selwynn stopped short, gasping loudly.
“Flowers! I— I forgot to put flowers on his grave,” she moaned, folding her hands above her heart. She glanced at the flowers outside the gate door. “I have to go back—”
“I’ll do it,” you said. “Get some rest. You need it. You deserve it, after all of this.”
“He deserves flowers from his mother,” she said weakly.
“In the morning,” Thesan said. “When all of this has died down, we can come back and pay him our respects.”
You shared a look of understanding with him; even if it took weeks, months, years for Baldur’s Gate to stop reeling from this crime and for the Gur to calm down from the ruling—which was being reversed later in the week, much to the relief of everyone else who the Gur had believed complicit in Astarion’s actions and who had feared for their own lives—the Ancunins would visit their son again to say farewell when they could finally do so in peace.
You watched them go. Several long, silent minutes passed, but you waited until they were out of your sight and you were alone before you bent to pick flowers for your lover. You chose them carefully, plucking only the most vibrant and tallest and fullest for him. Once you had a sizable bouquet of wildflowers in your hand, you headed back through the cemetery and search out Astarion’s headstone again. You found it easily, but your heart stopped beating when you saw it.
Something was wrong. You knew it instantly. The already chill air seemed to turn frigid as you looked at the plot. It was too dark, too big, spilling into the spaces next to it. It looked nothing like it did only minutes ago.
An iron tang filled your nose, distinct and wrong and laced with something you could only describe as evil.
You ran, dodging around headstones to get to the grave—to get to Astarion—as fast as possible.
I couldn’t protect him that night. I have to protect him now!
Mud squelched beneath your feet, smelling strongly of blood and death. You looked at it in horror; it was a mix of dirt and gravel and clay from deep in the earth, all of it soaked in blood. All of it in piles, coming from the center of Astarion’s grave.
The smell was worse than the sight: chemicals of entombment, the body’s natural gasses, blood, vomit, sweat, urine. Something about it seemed alcoholic and heady, making you sway on your feet, though you knew that could easily just be from your disgust.
But worst of all, his stone was splattered with the terrible mixture.
Your stomach dropped to your feet and then rose to your throat. You cupped a hand over your mouth to keep back your bile. Tears streamed down your face.
A moment. You had been gone only a moment. And in that time, someone—or multiple someones—had come and desecrated your lover’s grave, as if killing him had been enough.
You fell to your knees with a gut-wrenching scream. You bent in half, clutching the flowers to your chest, clenching your teeth tightly. You bit down on your hand to keep from screaming again.
Muffled sobs ripped themselves from your chest. “Astarion,” you gasped. “Astarion, I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry! I— I— I’ll fix this! I promise! I’ll…I’ll speak to the town’s jury, I’ll get them to punish whoever did it— Gods, your grave. Your beautiful stone…”
Mindlessly, you put the flowers aside. You stepped around the muddy mess of chopped up dirt and pulled out your handkerchief. You cleaned the stone with it as best as you could, using your fingers and spit when the cloth was too dirty to do anything else but push the gunk around.
“There,” you said when it was as clean as you could get it. “Clean. Clean like you.”
You looked at the turned grave dirt. “I have to fix this, too. Your parents—I can’t let them see you like this, can I? They’ll be devastated.”
You got back on your knees and began shoving the dirt back over the grave, patting it back down and drenching your hands and arms with bloody dirt. As you worked, you spoke to him: “I’ll get this all sorted out in the morning, love, I promise. I’ll get you justice. I won’t stand for this, Astarion. I’ll talk to someone first thing tomorrow morning. They’ve already killed you, can’t they just leave you be? Is dying not enough for—for a simple ruling? Yes, I admit, it wasn’t the best decision you could have made, but there had to be a better solution than…than mugging you in a godsdamned alleyway and then desecrating your grave! At the very least, if they can’t respect you, can’t they have some respect for your parents? For me? Your mother doesn’t deserve this endless pain!” You sighed, leaning back and wiping your forehead. Some part of you, the rational part, was aware that you had streaked blood and dirt all over yourself, but the part of you working didn’t care very much. “Of course, I can’t make you too pretty yet, Astarion. I’m sorry, but no one will believe me if I fix you up perfectly. But I can at least make it look like you haven’t been graverobbed.”
You worked for several more minutes. At last, you staggered to your feet, a wave of exhaustion passing through you.
“You know what?” you said to the headstone. “I’m not waiting until morning. I’m going to go talk to someone right now. I can’t let you stay like this all night. Not when your stars are shining down on you.” Dimly, you were aware that you looked like a graverobber and that you looked insane—but that would probably help your case. “I’ll be back soon, Astarion. I promise I won’t leave you alone like this.”
You began to walk away from his stone. Only a few paces away, you paused and turned around. You stared up at the sky and pointed up at it as if you could command it to watch over your dead lover while you were gone.
Once more, you knelt to kiss his name.
☞ ❊ ☜
[Image Caption: I do not give permission to repost, translate, or publish my work on any other site or app by anyone except myself. I do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI (for audio, art, or writing).]
Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Ancunin
Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!} @wayward-hel @cheeslyy @ofmyth-andmagicart @neetheslayer @whispering-depths @freesidexjunkie @lightsinmycity @the0ldmann @gobbodoggo @oooof-ifellforyou @beeblisss @fangboner @aquaarietes @fiercest-eigengrau-skies @niqhtfell @call-me-nyxx @lueji-m @ceres-xiv @tricksy-trinity @graynstairs @rosa-rubus @ynisthatyou @thegoodwitchs-blog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @kiyastrf94 @vincemachina @silverfangmarks @ravenswritingroom @hinata7346 @hellethil
#astarion#baldur's gate 3#bg3#astarion bg3#bg3 astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion acunin#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#baldurs gate 3#spawn astarion#vampires#vampires dnd#vampire spawn#vampire dnd#astarion romance#astarion fanfic#astarion fanfiction#astarion smut#astarion fluff#astarion angst#chapter 3#love bites#the case book of fanfiction#thecasebookoffanfiction#astarion x female tav#vampire spawn reader#spawn reader#neil newbon astarion#astarion neil newbon
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
| UNTIL ONE OF US DIE — Drabble (958 words).
| Summary — you promised to marry her but you didn't.
| Tags & warnings — Part of my "A drabble a day in june" challenge. — Yelena Belova x Reader, childhood friends (lovers?), death (R), angst without comfort, bittersweet, mentions of the redroom.
| REQUEST GUIDELINES — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING
Everyone has always lied to her but it was fine, she got used to it. She smiles, pretending she doesn't see right through their games, doing whatever they are expecting her to, even if she knows that the only reward she'll get for it is a bitter disappointment. She is born to serve, and that's what she does the best. They give her a mission, she completes it, and then they are happy enough to leave her alone for a few days — Weeks, when she is lucky.
That's how the world works for her, it always did, but some truth are more difficult to accept. That her family never existed, that she has been ripped of a few years of her life, that her sister died, but also that you didn't keep your promise.
You were just kids but it still counted, didn't it?
It was only a few words that you whispered to each other when you were no older than ten years, something that happened in the secrecy of the dormitory. You both knew it was a dangerous game because no one was allowed to dream but you didn't care. As far as she can remember, you've never cared about anything.
"We can do it," you said, trying the blonde to break the rules with you, but she was too stubborn for that. She admired your recklessness as much as she hated it, knowning you could get in trouble for that. "We just have to make sure that they don't catch us. What they don't know can't hurt, right?"
Except it does, because they always knew. Until recently, she hadn't be able to understand why they kept you around all these years. You were an average widow wrapped in a sick layer of trouble, closer to the girls who received a bullet in their head than to those who held the gun.
You were borned in a place where light doesn't exist, and yet you had the brightest smile. You had no memories of your family. They ripped you from them before you could learn the sound of their voices but that never stopped you from dreaming. You spent your time imagining a life you've never — and will never — know, and it contaminated the others. Even she has sometimes surprised herself dreaming about what her life would be outside these walls.
"One day, I will marry you," you've told her back then, and she didn't believe you until you swore on every you had. Even if it wasn't a lot, it meant everything for the blonde.
It was more than a childish promise, it was the hope of a brighter future, and she held on it. Every time, even now, she sooth herself asleep by thinking about what your life together could be like. You would've the biggest house that can exist, and it would be far from everything, just the two of you, and maybe a dog or a cat. You would both love that peaceful and quiet place. It would be your little secret, a space just for the two of you that no one would know about.
"I'll find you. They can't separate us forever," she told you the day you were moved to a different unit with a few other girls. It was a week before the graduation, and she was scared that you didn't passed. That day, they took away the light of the group, and things has never been the same anymore. Maybe that's why they kept you for so long, to instil hope in the hearts of the other girls, only to rip it from them later. To break them into obedience.
The blonde kept her promise. She's been looking for you since she left that place. You were the last piece needed for the new life she wanted to start, and the most important one. It's been years she hasn't see you, what if she can't reconignise your face? What if you don't even remember her? All these questions were swirling in her head as she was waiting in her car, parked in the other side of the street. It was never easy to track a widow, especially when they seem to have done everything to make you disappear form the files.
After a few months, she eventually got a lead. She found a file about a mission you've been working on a few years ago but, most importantly, she found the widow that was sent in with you, the one she was waiting for in front of her building.
"Where is she?" she asked, showing a picture of you to the woman. The latter frown but when she eventually recognize the young face she was being shown as yours. However, all she gives to the blonde is a sad smile. She didn't need more to understand what those desolate eyes meant.
Yet, she didn't believed until she was shown the place of your grave. She wasn't even sure if you were there, they probably left your body were it died or maybe they burned it. She doesn't know, and she is not sure she wants to. That day, she left the cimetery without the ring she has bought for you when she got out, tossing it in the bushes.
As she walked away, she could still hear your voice and the promise you made that day. The one you've never — and will never — kept. You lied, and you breaking her trust was the hardest thing she's ever had to accept in her life.
| REQUEST GUIDELINES — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING
| Tag list - @m0nsterqzzz
#a spes writing#drabble challenge#a spes writing challenge#reader insert#mcu fanfiction#yelena belova x reader#yelena belova x you#yelena belova fanfiction#yelena belova#yelena belova imagine#angst without a happy ending#angst no comfort#a drabble a day in june
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
THE WICKED WITCH .
pairing : orc!ari levinson x witch reader. King steve rogers x witch reader .(medieval au)
Summary :years after being betrayed by your lover steve, you seek the forest orc's help to give you an heir.
Warning: 18+ .angst.smut. breeding kink(just ari pounding you with his monstrous cock) .monsterfucking.period typical sexism. Fluff.
There are not a lot of people in this town that cared for you, most detested you for your fate. you didn't mind them, what else was left for you to do anyway, apart from your apothecary business.
Still there are some who have grown fond of you, like the old lady who owns the jewelry store,sally ,and pete the baker, the town's drunk but wise man seth, with whom you've found comfort in many lonely nights , he was a gentle, tender lover ,he was one of a kind truly.
But you needed more than that, more than desperate affairs with the townfolks,more than broken promises from a man who you wish to not speak of and he rather not of you.
"It's only for your safety dove" ,he insisted, "they would kill you if they found out, but i will sort it out, i will marry you one day and make you mine in front of the whole kingdom i promise." But the day never came.
"All men are the same y/n, a prince is no different, or a king as they call him now." Sally said as she heard your misery,which was not a huge secret anyway ,there were always rumours about prince steven rogers getting involved with the evil witch, just to sow his wild oats some say , others say she enchanted him, but only you both know the truth and neither of you were going to speak of it now.
Steven was fine, he was betrothed to princess Margaret of the neighbouring kingdom as soon as his mother found out about the affair, and just like that he was gone , away to the kingdom of carter ,and when he returned he was no longer the steve you knew, he was a married man , then soon his father died and he became the new king. Not that any of that mattered now.
Now you were all alone ,a spinster, a wicked one ,as they say. So in this world full of hatred you wanted something to love, something to call your own ,which is why you had embarked om this journey now.
A rather dangerous one , "be careful y/n orcs are wild creatures, dangerous beasts ."
You thanked sally for her concern and led on with your journey.
Just as you entered the unexplored territory of the mystical forest, you saw it, a giant cottage protected by magical shields, of course you were able to break through it easily, you hoped you don't upset the orc so easily. But oh boy you were wrong, as you moved forward you were yanked back by a large arm to your neck and pinned against a tree. You came face to face with probably the most gorgeous mythical creature ever created, with his long locks, hairy chest, chiseled abs and thick arms, he was only covered by a cloth wrapped around his lower body .
"What are you doing here little witch?" His grip on your neck tightened ,you immediately used your powers to get him off of you. He stepped back picking up the knife that was hidden under his cloth.
"Stop, I'm not here to hurt you." You tried to calm him.
"Then what are you doing here, how did you break my barrier." He questioned you angrily.
"Oh please I'm the wicked witch of the west, this is beneath me." Your words only seem to agitate him more. So you switched your tone. "Anyway I'm only here to ask for your help. " i even brought you offerings" you laid out your bag which was full of things orcs liked.
he looked at it,expression remaining the same, "help? What help could a witch possibly want from an orc?" He realized what you wanted as he completed the sentence, it could only be one thing.
"I uh want you to-"
"You want me to breed you." He said in his deep voice which made slick pool in your core.
"Well if you put it plainly then yes." You said, currently ogling his form more than ever.
"Or Would you like to call it love making,like the humans do?." You noticed the shift in his tone now.
You stepped forward,making the first move boldly as you captured his lips in a fiery kiss, you moaned into it as his thick orc tongue explored your mouth.
"You can call it whatever you want as long as you fuck me with your big orc cock." You said out of breath from the kiss. This made him laugh out loud. "You do have a dirty mouth on you little witch, i like it." He said as he cupped your breast through your thin barely there linen dress you wore on purpose.
"I will breed you." He said at once. ",but under one condition. " you were no longer paying attention to his words as his fingers explored your body. "You will have to live with me "
"What? Here?" You asked looking around.
"Yes, where else?"
"What about my home?"
"Where do you live?"
"In the town nearby, brookenhaim." Ari huffed in response, "with humans? ,i thought they didn't like your kind." He said.
"They uh..we get along fine, i own an apothecary so uh yes......i live there, i can't just leave it all behind and come here and live with you in the middle of nowhere."
"Where's your coven? Or any family?" You went silent for a moment not knowing what to say ,you didn't come here to be questioned like this ,you came here to fuck.
"Where's yours?" You were met with the same silence.
"Look we dont have to do it this way mister.."
"Ari..ari levinson." You gave him your name in return.
"Right..ari " you poked a finger to his chest, as he looked at you mockingly, for your desperate attempts to intimidate him. "We're not getting married for fucks sake,so don't think much about my predicament, i just want a quick fuck ,get knocked up and leave." He smirked again at your words."what?"
"I didn't know witches were so uncivilized, and for one living with humans, you sound far from it."
"Uncivilized? You're a fucking orc ,living in the middle of nowhere, don't talk to me about being civil." You were furious now, ari could sense it,so he tried to soothe you.
"Alright, alright, i didn't mean to judge little witch, you can do whatever you want, but listen a mating period is very important for orcs, so atleast until you get pregnant i want you to be with me and that would also be convenient for breeding you i hope."
You thought about it for a moment, "alright, i dont think it'll take too long for me to get pregnant anyway, that is if you do a good enough job." You were back in your seductive mood now.
"Oh you worry about yourself little witch." He said giving you his signature smile and placing a kiss to he back of your palm.
You went back to town immediately, closed your apothecary ,took your precious belongings which was not much by the way, and your necessities for your stay with the orc and returned to his cottage. You looked forwards to saying goodbye to sally and pete , but were disappointed when you learnt that they were at the town festival dancing the night away, one which you were not a part of anyway, and would mostly be greeted by frowns, so you never bothered going again.
So here you were, alone in ari's cottage, you'd offered to make dinner with your homemade pasta you brought from town, while ari was out chopping woods for the night.
Ari came back after a while,looking all sweaty and worked up , you almost dropped the pot looking at him.
He ate the dinner you made, "hmm that's really good sweetheart, haven't eaten like this in a long time." You didn't know what he means by a long time, but didn't wanna pester him with more personal questions. So you questioned him about what you came for,
"So when are you gonna fuck me orc?" You asked teasingly.
"Eager aren't we pretty girl?" You almsot blushed at the nicknames he's been giving you, you. "Go wait for me on the bed...naked."
You nodded and proceeded to do as he said , taking of your dress and your undergarments, standing on your hands and knees , presenting yourself for him like an orc mate would.
Ari barged in the door , awestruck as he looked at your form, "hmm didn't know you knew about orc mating postions, little witch." He commented as he neared you, hands gripping your hips, positioning you for his comfort.
"I came prepared orc." You said as he toyed with your clit ,other hand moving to your breasts, lips leaving a trail of wet kisses on your shoulder.
You could do nothing but moan, and try to stop your knees from wobbling. Just then his mouth reached your pussy, his thick tongue licking a long stripe , spreading your wetness everywhere. "Hmm that's the prettiest pussy ever sweetheart. " you whimpered as he pushed his tongue into your hole, "hmm the tightest too, I've only ever fucked orcs, and they could barely take me, i don't know how this tight little witch cunt is gonna take all of me pretty girl."
His words only turned you on more, "but don't worry I'll stretch you out real good and leave you begging for more." He landed a sharp smack to your ass, the pleasure of which went striaght to your core.
Ari kept his promise and stretched you out, first with his finger, and then his massive orc tongue, then added more fingers, until you cried from the pleasure begging him to let you cum, and he did eventually after edginf you on for an hour. You fell onto your stomach as you orgasmed, losing your position that the orc seemed to love so much. So he brougt you back on your hands and knees, supporting you with his arms so you stay in position.
"I was just getting started little witch, now show me how badly you wanna take my seed, show me how good you can take this cock." He pushed the tip into you slowly, letting you adjust to his size, once you got comfortable, he started pounding into you, with such brutal force you gripped the sheets as you writhed in pleasure, you could hear his grunts too and filthy words that slipped his mouth as he fucked into you. 'You're taking me so good lottle witch, that pretty cunt is gripping me so good.' 'Aagh tightest pussy I've ever had, just the way i like it.'
"Fuck ,fuck ari I'm gonna cum." You cried out as you neared your orgasm, "cum for me little witch." And you did for the fitth time that night, you could feel ari getting sloppy, he was nraring his orgasm too, but he picked up his phase again and fucked into you real good, with a lpud grunt he came in you without warning, filling you up to the brim with his warm cum.
You both laid in bed facing the ceiling, caching your breath,ari turned his head towords you ,"so it's true what they say about witches."
"What ?" You raised your eyebrows.
"You have the tightest pussies out of all the creatures in the mystical forest." He daid jokingly.
You slapped his arm, lightly too fucked out of your brains to respond to orc's comment properly. "You like tight pussies?" You aksed after a moment.
"They're the best." You huffed at his response."is that the only thing you look for in a woman?"
"Hmm only you could turn a compliment into a debate little witch....No,There's much more obviously."
"And what if she didn't have a tight cunt, what then."
"It doesn't matter ,when you accept someone as your mate, you don't care about anything else, you only care about cherishing them with all you have."
The next morning you woke up to an empty bed ,you looked around to see ari already in the kitchen making breakfast.
"Good morning little witch. " he stood there in all his glory.
"Good morning ari."
"I can't cook like you but i made something with the berries i gathered, here have a taste." He fed you his berry custard with a spoon, which you licked and hummed at the taste.
"It tastes so sweet ari." You moaned ,"but i think i need something salty to start the morning."
"I'm afraid i dont have anything salty to offer you sweetheart." He said genuinely. "This isn't the town where you can get-"
Just then you sank to your knees and pulled off ari's only clothing covering his body, "hmm i think you have plenty to offer me orc."
Ari's words died down in his throat. You took the tip of his member in your mouth, sucking it sweetly ,all the while looking at ari, you saw his pupils dilate, eye's turning dark filled with lust and pleasure.
He groaned in pleasure, as you licked a lond stripe along his cock the same way you licked the custard off the spoon. You used your hands to play with his balls, adding to his pleasure.
Ari knew he wasn't gonna last, he was thinking about you all morning, wanting to fuck you in your sleep, but he didn't wanna come of as being so desperate, he wanted to maintain his composure, so he opted to cooking instead, but here you were sucking his cock first thing in the morning ,bobbing your head up and down his member ,barley fitting in all of him in your mouth.
He came fast ,hard, spurting his ropes of white cum into your throat, which you swallowed willingly. "Hmm tastes so delicious orc..so it's true what hey say about orc's semen too huh? Tastes so good. Leaves you wanting for more." You said as you took him in your mouth one more time.
"Save some for that pretty cunt of yours little witch -oh just like that keep going." You slowed down your pace giving him kitten licks ,teasing him and having him on edge, likw he did to you last night, just then ari took control, he grabbed you by your hair and started fuckint your mouth roughly, you couldn't help but grind yourself on his leg at the same time.
He moaned your name as ge was about to come in your mouth you were ready to taste him, but he pulled out just in time to come all over your face and chest. "Hmm you look sp pretty like this little witch, painted in my cum."
You pouted, "but i wanted to taste your cum." Ari simply laughed at your pouting.
"Later little witch, let me fuck you now." He gave you his hand to lift you off your feet.
A/N : pls do reblog and let me know if you need more of this series.
#ari levinson x reader#orc ari levinson x readee#Orc ari levinson#ari levinson#ari levison x reader#Ari x reader#ari levinson smut#ari levinson fanfiction#ari levinson x you#ari levinson x female reader#chris evans x you#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans characters#chris evans character fanfiction#chris evans character x reader#Steve rogers x reader#steve rogers angst#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fanfic#King steve rogers x reader#Royal au#Medieval au#King steve rogers#Witch reader#steve rogers x y/n#ari levinson x y/n
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
Big Menace, Little Gentleman
❀ Satoru Gojo (REQUESTED)
You’re standing in the bustling hallway of Jujutsu High, trying to juggle your tasks for the day. The sound of laughter and the occasional thump reverberate through the corridors, making you pause. Something’s off. The usual seriousness of the place has been replaced with an air of chaos, and you have a sinking feeling about the source of the disturbance.
As you turn a corner, you’re met with a scene straight out of a comedic disaster movie. Megumi is standing in the middle of a mess, his hair dripping with what looks like paint. He’s glaring daggers at a small, white-haired child who’s giggling uncontrollably while running circles around him. You blink, trying to process the sight. The child looks familiar, and then it hits you – Satoru Gojo.
“What happened here?” you ask, your voice a mix of amusement and disbelief.
Megumi looks up at you, exasperated. “Gojo-sensei got hit by a curse and turned into a kid. And he’s been nothing but trouble since.”
You glance at the child version of Satoru, who stops mid-run to look at you. His blue eyes sparkle with mischief, but when he meets your gaze, his expression changes. He looks almost shy, an unusual look for someone as confident and brazen as Gojo.
“Hi,” he says softly, his voice small and hesitant.
“Hi, Satoru,” you reply, trying to suppress a smile. “Are you behaving yourself?”
He nods vigorously, but you can see the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Yes, of course!” he says, though the paint-splattered hallway tells a different story.
You raise an eyebrow. “Really?”
Megumi snorts. “He’s been terrorizing everyone. Nanami’s locked himself in his office, and the first-years are hiding somewhere.”
You look down at Satoru, who’s now scuffing his shoes on the floor, avoiding your eyes. “Is that true?”
He finally looks up at you, and to your surprise, his eyes are filled with guilt. “I was just having fun,” he mumbles. “But I promise I’ll be good.”
There’s something endearing about the way he’s trying to be sincere, and you can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. “Okay, Satoru. Let’s get you cleaned up first, and then maybe you can help me with some tasks?”
His face lights up with a smile, and he nods eagerly. “Yes! I’ll be really helpful, I promise!”
You lead him to a nearby bathroom, grabbing some towels and soap. As you help him wash the paint off his hands and face, he keeps glancing at you, his usual bravado completely gone.
“Thank you,” he says quietly. “For not being mad at me.”
You smile at him, ruffling his damp hair. “Just try to be a bit nicer to everyone, okay? They’re not used to this side of you.”
He nods solemnly, and you can’t help but chuckle. Seeing the usually indomitable Satoru Gojo reduced to a small, apologetic child is something you never thought you’d witness.
Once he’s cleaned up, you take his hand and lead him to the kitchen, deciding that keeping him occupied might be the best way to prevent further chaos. “How about we make some snacks for everyone?” you suggest.
Satoru’s eyes light up again, and he bounces on his feet. “Yes! I love snacks!”
You set him up with some simple tasks, like mixing ingredients and arranging treats on a tray. He’s surprisingly well-behaved, though his natural clumsiness as a child leads to a few minor spills and messes. Still, you can tell he’s trying hard to impress you.
As you work together, you hear footsteps approaching. You turn to see Nanami peeking into the kitchen, a wary look on his face.
“Is it safe?” he asks, eyeing Satoru suspiciously.
You laugh. “Yes, it’s safe. We’re making snacks.”
Nanami steps in cautiously, keeping a safe distance from the child. “I’ve never seen Gojo like this,” he mutters. “It’s… unsettling.”
You glance at Satoru, who’s focused on his task, a look of concentration on his face. “He’s trying to be good,” you say. “I think he just needs a bit of guidance.”
Nanami raises an eyebrow. “You’re handling this surprisingly well.”
You shrug. “I guess he’s not so bad once you get used to him.”
Satoru looks up at you, beaming. “See? I’m being good!”
Nanami looks unconvinced, but he doesn’t say anything further. Instead, he helps you set up the table for the snacks, keeping a watchful eye on Satoru the entire time.
As the day goes on, you manage to keep Satoru occupied with various tasks. He seems to have taken a liking to you, sticking close by and doing his best to follow your instructions. You can see the frustration in the eyes of the others as they deal with the aftermath of his earlier pranks, but they also seem relieved that he’s calmed down.
Later in the afternoon, you find yourself sitting on the steps outside, enjoying a moment of peace. Satoru sits beside you, his small legs swinging back and forth.
“Do you think I’ll stay like this forever?” he asks, his voice tinged with worry.
You shake your head. “No, I’m sure the effects of the curse will wear off soon. We just need to be patient.”
He looks at you with those big, blue eyes, and for a moment, he looks so vulnerable that it breaks your heart. “Will you stay with me until then?”
“Of course,” you say, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be here.”
He smiles, a genuine, heartfelt smile that makes you feel warm inside. “Thank you.”
The next few days follow a similar pattern. Satoru continues to be a handful for everyone else, pulling pranks and causing mayhem wherever he goes. But with you, he’s different. He listens, he tries to help, and he’s always eager to please. It’s as if he’s two different people – the mischievous troublemaker and the sweet, shy child who just wants your approval.
One afternoon, you find him hiding behind a pillar, clutching something in his hands. When you approach, he looks up at you, his eyes wide with guilt.
“What are you up to now?” you ask, crossing your arms.
He holds out his hands, revealing a small, slightly wilted bouquet of flowers. “I picked these for you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “To say thank you for being so nice to me.”
You take the flowers, touched by the gesture. “Thank you, Satoru. That’s very sweet of you.”
He looks down at his feet, blushing furiously. “I just wanted to make you happy.”
You crouch down to his level, lifting his chin so he meets your gaze. “You do make me happy, Satoru. Seeing you try your best means a lot to me.”
His eyes light up, and he throws his arms around you in a tight hug. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he murmurs.
As the days turn into a week, you notice small changes in Satoru’s behavior. He starts to mellow out, his pranks becoming less frequent and less disruptive. The others start to relax around him, though they still give him a wide berth just in case.
One evening, you’re sitting in the common room, reading a book, when Satoru climbs onto the couch beside you. He rests his head on your shoulder, a content sigh escaping his lips.
“Do you think I’ll remember all of this when I’m back to normal?” he asks, his voice sleepy.
You smile, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “I think so. And maybe it’ll help you understand how your actions affect others.”
He nods slowly, his eyes drooping. “I don’t want to forget you being nice to me,” he whispers.
You kiss the top of his head. “You won’t forget. And I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”
He falls asleep shortly after, his small hand clutching yours. You sit there for a long time, watching him sleep, wondering what the future holds for him – for both of you.
The next morning, you wake to find that the curse has finally worn off. Satoru Gojo is back to his usual self, tall and confident, with that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. But there’s something different about him, a softness that wasn’t there before.
“Good morning,” he says, his voice back to its normal, teasing tone. “Did you miss me?”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile. “Maybe a little.”
He grins, leaning down to ruffle your hair. “Thanks for looking after me. I remember everything.”
“Everything?” you ask, surprised.
“Yeah,” he says, his expression turning serious for a moment. “And I’m really grateful. You were the only one who treated me like a person, not a problem.”
You feel a warmth spread through you at his words. “I’m glad I could help.”
He straightens up, his usual cocky demeanor slipping back into place. “Well, don’t think this means I’m going to go easy on you from now on. I’m still the strongest, after all.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
As he walks away, you watch him go, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. The past week has been challenging, but it’s also shown you a different side of Satoru Gojo – a side that you’re glad to have seen.
And as you get back to your daily routine, you can’t help but feel that things have changed for the better. Satoru may still be a menace at times, but now you know that beneath that exterior, there’s a person who’s capable of genuine kindness and gratitude.
And that makes all the difference in the world.
Requested by: @jazzyocs
#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsukaisen#gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#satoru x reader#satoru x you#satoru x y/n#satoru gojō x reader#satoru gojo
52 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey, how are you? Could I request something for Zach Maclaren, where the reader and Zach are spending the night together for the first time (no smut) but the reader can't sleep because she's wearing a bra, afraid of making Zach uncomfortable if she doesn't, and Does Zach figure this out?
Bra insecurities
Summery: The request.
Words: 1,1k
Warnings: grammar mistakes.
A/N: I'm great, i hope you feel good too and i hope you like this! thank you for the request xxx
You and Zach have been together for a couple of months, yet somehow you haven't had a sleepover together. Every time he asked for you to come over to his house to spend the night something came up (more like you gave him excuses)
You knew Zach would never comment on your body. He adored everything about you, from head to toe, inside and out. He was completely smitten. But knowing that, didn't stop you from overthinking.
You had eyes, you could see how your breasts looked without a bra. They slumped down instead of being held up and the outline of your boobs could easily make someone uncomfortable especially when you wore a tank top. You didn't want to risk Zach looking at you differently. Your relationship was perfect the way it was.
"Hey baby," his delicate voice rang in the quiet library as he laid his head on your shoulder, wrapping his muscular arm around your waist from behind.
“Hi,” You turned in his hold to face him.
“I have soccer practice after class but do you want to come over tonight? We haven't spent any time together this week. I miss you so much” he dipped his head to meet your lips.
“You could spend the night, my sister is staying at a friend's house for the weekend and my parents are away on a couple's weekend. I promise no funny business, I just want to spend time with you.” His digits gently rub against your cheeks and his eyes have that small glimmer you can't refuse.
“I don't know…” You bow your head down towards the floor, avoiding his begging gaze.
“Please, please, please, please” Between each “please” he placed a kiss on your cheeks and your forehead.
“Fine” Your voice was barely above a whisper when you spoke but Zach did not fail to hear you. His eyes widen as well as his smile.
“Yes! You're the best!” He picked you up and spun you around as if you weighed nothing which made him earn, from the librarian a few feet away, a shush.
“Alright join me at the field after my soccer practice okay? see you tonight baby” he pressed one last rapid and excited kiss to your cheeks before running out the door leaving you giggling from the spot he had left you.
You spent the rest of the day studying and reading your newly borrowed book until it was time to join Zach. When you got to the field you already had your backpack filled with your toothbrush, skin care, PJs and a change of clothes just in case.
You saw him wipe his face with the bottom of his shirt which revealed his perfectly sculpted abs. Your face reddened instantly and his eyes met yours.
“You ready to go babe?” he met you with a small welcoming kiss. Still flushed from the previous sight your boyfriend gave you, you could only nod in agreement.
Taking your hand in his, he led you to his car. And like the gentleman he was, he opened the door for you. You offered a small "thank you" as you climbed in.
The ride was silent yet comfortable, his thumb was rubbing softly on your thigh as his other hand clutched the steering wheel. Your knee couldn't help but bounce anxiously at the thought of sleeping at his house tonight.
But Zach had planned everything perfectly. the second you entered his house he rushed to get everything ready. He laid out plush blankets on his bed, with multiple pillows and your favourite snacks. The scent of freshly popped popcorn merged with the faint chocolate aroma of your favourite candy bar.
"This is amazing, Zach," You said, turning to him with gratitude and affection after he prepared everything. At this moment you couldn't even remember why you were nervous to begin with.
"I'm happy you like it, babe," he grinned and replied, his voice tender as he pulled you into a gentle embrace.
He reached for the remote and he started your favorite movie after settling down on his bed.
"I'm so glad we're finally doing this," he whispered, his eyes meeting yours in the dim light.
“Me too” you replied shyly before letting your lips meet his.
After the movie ended, you and Zach both started getting ready for bed. Once again your anxiousness came back.
“Hey, do you want to sleep with one of my shirts?” He asked, he always loved seeing you in one of his shirts.
“Sure” You mumbled and took the white t-shirt from his hand, slowly you turned so your back faced him and removed the shirt you already had on. Just as you were about to put his over your head his voice stopped you.
“You gonna sleep with that? isn't it uncomfortable?” You turned your head over your shoulder and saw him looking over at the clasp of your bra on your back
“oh yes, it's ok” You pulled the shirt down he didn't ask more questions. He didn't know much about what girls wore to bed.
So you got in his bed and acted like everything was normal. Truthfully nothing was normal. The clasp dug into your skin as well as the straps, and the metal strings inside the bra felt like it was cutting underneath your breasts.
“Do you want me to remove it for you?” Zach spoke up in the dark and silent room.
“No!” you said harshly. “It- it's fine”
“Baby come on it's hurting you” his hand softly stroked your arm.
“I don't want you to see my boobs” you admitted and you saw his brow furrow in the dark.
“You don't have to worry about that, you have my shirt on, I won't see anything I promise” His voice was honest and sincere, you knew you could trust him but you were still scared of judgment.
“I don't want to make you uncomfortable, you can see them through the t-shirt and… they aren't pretty without a bra, they slouch down” Your voice got even quieter and you avoided his gaze at all costs, but he grabbed your chin to make you look at him.
“Y/N I love you” Your eyes winded at the confession. “I love everything about you, even the things you don't like.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I absolutely adore you, you could have the biggest or smallest boobs on earth and I would still love you!” He laughed and kissed your cheeks almost eagerly which also made you giggle.
“Now please let me help you remove it. I can't bare to see you uncomfortable.” you nodded and slowly his hand slid inside the shirt to unlace the clasps. Immediately the bra fell and your breast fell free.
“See? much better” His hand massaged your shoulder and he pressed a gentle kiss to your neck.
“Thank you, Zach, I love you too”
#zach maclaren#zach maclaren x y/n#zach maclaren fluff#zach maclaren x reader#the other zoey#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey fluff#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
Now that I have some base designs for everyone here's a rough height comparison!
Not included: Sozo is somewhere between Shamura and Kallamar while Arylide (my yellow cat) is about the same height as Leshy if maybe a bit shorter.
Some other design notes,
The Lamb is extremely tiny because I think its funny. Also because way back in 2019 I made and got super attached to a personal OC who was also cult leader who was itty bitty tiny so now I'm attached to that idea
Technically if you stretched Leshy out all the way he would probably be taller than all of them. Except Kallamar, because if you stretched out Kallamar and counted the length of his tentacles, he'd be obnoxiously tall
Shamura can also prop themself up to be taller if they so choose but they do Not choose that often
Clothing-wise things are a mess. I'm not very good at designing clothing, always been a weak point of mine, but there are some small things I'm trying to go for specifically:
Leshy wears the cult symbol because, though he expressly denies it, he got comfortable the fastest of all his siblings. It helps that Aryl is here but even aside from that...... He's the deity of Chaos, even if formerly. He can adapt to whatever he wants to
Narinder is wearing a complete stand-out thing from everyone else. Nothing Bishop-like and nothing Lamb Cult related. He put together that hooded cloak himself because he misses his old one
Shamura is figuratively stuck between two worlds at the moment (having little to no memories of Anything prior to cult life but still having this lingering feeling) so they've got both cult attire and bishop-look going on at the same time.
Kallamar said FUCK your GROSS cult attire I am wearing FANCY ROBES. The rest of you can go die
Heket is #1 lamb hater in the entire world and utterly refuses to wear anything with the cult's symbols. She's going for more of a bishop look because heresy be DAMNED she hates it here and wants everything back how it was
Misc,
"why are Narinder's eyes still like that" because it looks cool
I am thinking of Maybe giving Leshy arms. He might deserve some arms. Yes it will clash with the rest of the Centipede look but again he's Chaos he can do whatever he wants forever
Leshy also has antennae I just make them super thin lmao
Nari has whiskers but I just never draw whiskers . Always forget. In the same vein that Shamura is covered in setae but I am not drawing a ton of individual setae so you'll just have to trust me on that
If Heket's legs are not drawn massive that's not Heket she MUST have giant frog legs or I will riot. She could leap over the chapel and I will not have it any other way.
#um Yippie!#expect these designs to go through a very gradual changing process . in a few months if I'm still fixated#they will look completely different. promise you that.#cult of the lamb#cotl lamb#cotl narinder#cotl leshy#cotl shamura#cotl kallamar#cotl heket#cotl bishops#clamart#it's 1am ive been awake since 8 this morning AUUUUUGHHHHHH explodes
107 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
movieanalisis101
Cine con significado
nananarc-vp
Na's Virtual Photography
ocenxstcl
oceana st claire
apple-p4int
Apple Paint
