#||And good luck to everyone who plans to pull for the second half of the phase | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

husbandhoshi · 9 months ago

Text

title: ghosted pairing: seungcheol x f!reader wc: 6.1k, mature/18+ only! tags: based on this drabble. porn with a considerable amount of plot, fwb to lovers, rich guy!cheol, yn is able to be picked up. horrible terrible excessive amounts of fluff. smut tags below the cut. everyone say thank you to @wuahae for reading this over :)

smut tags: softdom!cheol, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), spanking/biting, yn has hair that can get pulled, mild ass play, boob stuff, fingers in mouth.

you think you have seungcheol's number memorized.

well, you definitely should have by now, with how many times you considered deleting it. instead you ended up changing his contact name, first to seungcheol club, which is where you met him. second time--rebound guy. the third iteration, your roommate had made it DO NOT TEXT, and you had left it like that because she was probably right anyway.

for better or for worse, you are not very good at following instructions. you're two and a half weeks fresh off of a heart-to-heart with your friends where you agreed that no, the best way to get over your ex was to not get under somebody else, and yes, you should absolutely stop sleeping with a guy who brags about being a playboy.

so you deleted his number and your text history, and everyone swore up and down that this was a good thing.

and you're sure you were on the same page as them until about five minutes ago, when you were doing your laundry and you had come across one of his white button-up shirts.

(he let you keep it because he said you looked better in it than he did. that morning, before you left his place, he had buttoned it all the way up for you--don't want anyone else looking at you the way i do, he had said. plus, the amount of hickies he had left behind were in no way presentable to the general public.)

the effect this has on you is instantaneous and humiliating.

"fuck. fuck," you groan, now scrolling through your camera roll to look for literally any screenshot with his number in it.

there's one from back when he was rebound guy--he had sent you ten dollars in apple cash so you could buy a coffee when you said you were too tired to fuck. you ended up coming over that night anyway, and you both watched four hours of law and order until you fell asleep on his couch.

there are a handful from when DO NOT TEXT had sexted you in the middle of the workday, which you kept for posterity and nights alone with your vibrator.

and then, finally, a few weeks before that, when things were simple and he was just an unsaved number in your phone--hey, i know you ran out this morning, but i wanted to let you know i had a great time last night, if you know what i mean. even with the winky face emoji, it was a strangely wholesome text from a first time hookup.

you favorite the screenshot and curse the fact that you have never had good impulse control.

you up? i miss you.

the words fly so fast out of your fingers, you have no time to consider whether or not this is a good idea. you vividly recall the time he told you he had never seen the point of putting a label on a relationship, which was the whole reason your friends staged an intervention in the first place.

still, the white shirt on your bed taunts you. even thinking about it makes your head spin.

yeah. let me send you an uber.

that too--he had money, and he wasn't ashamed to spend it on you. between that and the dick, you don't think you're willing to squander your luck.

besides, seungcheol is still rebound guy. you're still getting over your ex, and he's just a quick fix in the meantime. you tell yourself this, and you keep telling yourself this until you're out the door, without a second chance to tell yourself otherwise.

"can't go long without getting your back blown out, huh?"

this is the first thing seungcheol says to you, oblivious to the fact that you were planning on forever ghosting him less than an hour ago.

"as if you didn't answer my text almost immediately," you laugh, letting him help you take your coat off.

"never said i wasn't happy to provide," he replies. his gaze is hot, sticky, like he's forgotten what you've looked like already. "i think it's been almost a month. i thought you got tired of me or something, you know."

"of course not. i...i got busy."

it's a half lie. the other half? you wouldn't dare admit it, but you missed his apartment a little. partly because it's much nicer than your own, but the bachelor pad decor was starting to grow on you. (and maybe the bachelor, with it.)

"work was good today?" you ask, letting him draw you in by the waist. his hands are so warm as he draws them up and down your sides, underneath the cotton of the thin shirt you have on.

"oh, please," seungcheol says, his grin now hovering right over your lips. "don't play innocent. you didn't come here so i could talk about my job."

he's right, so you let him kiss you. it's hot and fast and it tastes like his twenty dollar mouthwash, which you take small pride in because it means he would have been sleeping if his hand wasn't on your ass right now.

seungcheol has never been slow nor patient. your shirt has come off, and he now thumbs at the waistband of your jeans, grasping at the button to undo them.

"i don't think i even know what you look like with pants on," he says, lips dragging against the shell of your ear. "you always dress up when you come here, and it all ends up on the floor. pity."

you feel all the heat in your body surge towards your core. somehow your jeans are already on the floor and seungcheol's palm is fanned over the thin lace of your panties.

"thought about me the whole way here, huh?" two fingers are meanly sat over the seam of your cunt, pressing the damp fabric to your skin. "let yourself get all wet for me on the car ride?"

"maybe," you manage, not wanting to betray the embarrassment in your voice. you don't need his hand there to know how wet you are, and yet you know he's doing it to tease you anyway. he finds the bump of your clit over the fabric, now clingy and warm over your skin, and runs his thumb over it. "what else was i supposed to think about?"

"no need to be shy. can't lie with such a needy pussy." he chuckles as your thighs squeeze helplessly around him. "it's cute."

before you can protest, he pushes your panties to the side, now undoubtably soaked through, and his fingers find your clit again. it just takes two, three, rough strokes to draw the pleasure out of you like a fire in your belly.

"cheol," you whine. somehow things always end up like this--you, almost fully naked, and him, still with all his clothes on. he likes reminding you of it too, now enjoying the way you press against him, searching for skin. instead, you feel his cock under his sweatpants, right up against your thigh, and it only turns you on further.

your hands find his waist, but between the new welt he's sucked into your neck and the paralyzing feeling of his thumb on your clit again and again, you falter. your fingertips hover on the downy hair peeking over the band of his sweats, and you've never ached more to have him inside you.

that's all seungcheol needs to yank you back in line. "bed. now," he says, and you listen.

his apartment is big, and the walk feels dizzying as he follows behind you. what's even worse is that you can feel his eyes rake over you--he loves it. the humiliating stumble of your two left feet, the glistening slick at the apex of your thighs, how your panties cling to your ass, now ruined.

even now, as you clamber onto the bed like you're learning to use your limbs for the first time, he loves how easy you are for him. but you can't help it--no one fucks you as good as he does, and that was the reason he was rebound guy in the first place.

"face me," is his next command. at the foot of the bed, first, he pulls off his shirt, and your eyes wander first to his chest, then to the trail he's got down his stomach, teasing you as he pushes down his sweats.

one of his hands, strong and veiny, disappears under his waistband to play with his cock. you watch the slow flick of his wrist and see the shape of his length underneath the fabric, and you almost start salivating.

you're sure he's punishing you by now.

"you're staring, pretty girl. use your words." a turn of his wrist, and he groans. he might just make himself cum like this, and the notion that it wouldn't be somewhere inside you absolutely shatters the last bit of pride you had left.

"need you in my mouth, cheol," you whine, now sitting up straight against the headboard, as if looking any more pitiful would persuade him to join you.

and he does, just not in the way you want him to. instead, you watch his sweats fall to the ground before he kneels on the edge of the bed, on the end furthest from you.

"what, you think i'm gonna give it to you easy? after you made me wait for you?" you are not thinking straight enough to decipher what this means. who knew ghosting a fuckboy would have actual consequences, but you watch his grip tighten around the fat base of his cock and decide this is not the time to play detective.

so you swallow your pride and all your questions and you crawl. you crawl all the way down the seemingly endless length of his king sized bed, feeling seungcheol's gaze swallow you whole, and you like it.

when you stop at the foot of the bed, you take pause to look at seungcheol, really look at him. his eyes are dark, almost unrecognizably so--maybe it's the way you so readily make yourself perfect for him, arching your back just how he likes and letting your swollen, wet mouth fall open like you've never wanted anything more than him.

"so pretty like this," he coos. he runs a thumb over your bottom lip, feeling it quiver under his skin. you feel the saliva pooling in your mouth; it's as humiliating as it is desperate but you can't help yourself. it feels so good to be touched, and seungcheol's clings to you like nothing else.

he pushes his fingers into your mouth, almost to the back so you choke. you're at the point where you'll take anything, so you suck. you let your tongue run all over the digits, long and calloused enough that you can only dream of having them inside the other half of you. he pushes onto your tongue, wanting you to taste him, and you whimper, the feeling harsh but not unwelcome.

"dumb mouth just needs something in it, huh? my girl will just suck anything?"

you can't talk, so you whine around his fingers, feeling your pussy clench around nothing. he's been playing with his cock with his free hand, forcing you to watch him trace every vein with his own skin instead of yours. you hollow out your cheeks and suck him nice and tight, trying to fool yourself otherwise.

then he laughs, low and quiet--as fun as it is to slut you out, he's never been patient. "open wide, darling." he slides his fingers out from your mouth before pulling your hair out of the way. thank you, you want to say, but it's quickly washed away by the shock of his cock between your lips, rough but never too much so.

god, you didn't even think you liked sucking dick that much, but sleeping with seungcheol for this long must have altered your brain chemistry for the worse. his familiar, heavy warmth sits on your tongue, and you can't help but moan around him. you love the stretch of your jaw, the way his eyes always wrench shut no matter how in control he is.

"fuck," he groans, carding a hand through his hair. "slutty little mouth's made for me."

you hum around him, taking him all the way to where your nose skims the dewy curls on his abdomen and all you know is the scent of his heat. you're drooling so much, thanks to all the fingers in your mouth not too long ago, but you don't care. you run your tongue on the veiny underside of his cock, back and forth, savoring the hurt in your cheeks and all the spit on your chin.

seungcheol makes a low-pitched, strangled noise, the first time you've seen him crack tonight, and it sends another gushy wave of heat to your cunt.

you toy with his slit, let the salt of his precum fill your mouth, and suck hard around his cockhead. your scalp stings wonderfully with how he pulls at your hair, and you lean into the feeling. a deep breath through your nose, and you sink down again. the way he hits the back of your throat makes you yelp pitifully, but you persist like a dog to a bone. again, again, and you're gagging on your own spit as your throat spasms around him and you go cross-eyed.

he's all about control, but he lets you have this--perhaps he likes seeing you give yourself to him without him asking. he doesn't have to lift a finger, and you'll still choke around him, bruise your own throat. surely that had to mean something, but you'll chalk it up to some astrological sexual compatibility you're unaware of at the moment.

"enough," seungcheol finally says, voice gravelly, and he pulls you off him by the hair. "fuck, you probably would've cummed from that alone, huh?"

meanly, he reaches over your back to grab at the strings of your underwear so it digs into your cunt. you cry out, feeling the warmth of arousal leak all over your twitching hole, even between your ass. he's right--any more, and you really might have cummed all over yourself.

" 'm so wet, cheol," you plead, toes curling as he pulls the elastic of your panties further back. "please, please, please."

he releases the band, and it snaps hard against your skin. it feels like electricity as it connects with you, and you cry out again, the noise high-pitched and whoreish.

"gonna need you to face the other way if you want me to fuck you, darling," he says. "my baby likes it best from behind, right?"

you have nothing left in you but insatiable desire. you turn around to face the headboard, still on your hands and knees. seungcheol runs a careful hand down the curve of your spine before landing a hard slap on your ass. your skin sings, and all the blood in your body feels like it's been turned to fire.

"cheol," you warble, pressing your face into the sheets. your pussy actually hurts from how neglected it is, and when the second slap comes down, your clit aches like a bruise. "need you so bad...can't believe i went so long without you."

the words just fall out of you but you think they're true regardless. you were really fooling yourself thinking you could go the rest of your life without this. somewhere deep inside you, in the working part of your brain, you wonder if he's come to the same conclusion. that underneath the show, all the greed and the meanness, he missed you too.

"you must really need to get fucked," seungcheol chuckles. "you've never been this nice to me."

"not true," you protest, muffled by the sheets, and he laughs again. then he peels your underwear down your thighs before spreading your ass underneath his palms, and the cool air makes you twitch under him.

"you smell so fucking good. fuck." he groans, low and desirous, and it's the last thing you register before you feel the swell of his nose, his lips, as he buries his face in your cunt.

it's all too much at once--it rips a squeal out from your chest, one of those slutty, loud ones he loves, and it spurs him on further. you feel the wet pressure of his tongue, first between your folds, then up to the tight ring of your asshole, still messy with your arousal.

"o-oh my god," you cry. the pressure in your belly is now wound tight; you're so, so close and he's barely even started. he seems to know this, and deprives you of his mouth in lieu of his two fingers. the change in sensation is instant and toe-curling. something, anything, is finally inside you, and it's better than anything you have ever known. he drags the pads of his fingers brutally over your g-spot, loving the way you cry and tremble beneath him as your orgasm builds.

"have you had enough, pretty girl?" seungcheol asks, voice cruel, teasing. it's a rhetorical question--before you know it, his fingers are gone, and you instead feel the length of his cock between the curve of your ass. he's got a hand between your shoulder blades, pinning you down, just so he can see you struggle to push yourself against him.

"n-no," you reply, voice catching in your throat. you feel the head of his cock against your slit, and your thighs tremble with anticipation. not good enough. it only takes him a few times, rocking against your cunt, for you to crumble. you ask for things you can't even remember, and it's then when he pushes into you, so meanly you really do forget what words mean.

seungcheol swears under his breath, and his grip on your ass feels tight enough to bruise. your cunt flutters around him, god, you forgot how fucking big he is, but he doesn't give you much time to get used to it. his pace is unforgiving, and his hips slam into your ass like he's trying to fuck the sound out of you.

"cheol," you hiccup, listening to your voice jolt with every thrust. " 'm so full...."

"yeah? you like how i fill you up?" he squeezes your ass hard, and you moan into the sheets. "better than anyone else?"

"o-only you," you reply, slack-jawed at the feeling of being split open so well and the delicious, unending drag of him against your walls. "just you."

this seems to satisfy him. he enters you, deeper still, until it feels like he's in your stomach.

"so fucking tight," he says, from somewhere deep in his chest. "you need me to stretch you out like this every once in a while, yeah? you take it so well, pretty girl."

all you can do is moan his name. it's what you've been doing, and at this point, it's the only word you know. he bottoms out again, and the pleasure is so white-hot it feels like it burns.

it only takes two, three, punches into your cunt for you to come undone. you're gushing, gushing around him, babbling something incoherent, and still he is unrelenting. you feel your mouth move in an attempt to tell him you're too sensitive, and he only shoves his cock deeper in you so he can feel you clench hard around it.

then he pushes your head into the sheets, deeper still so the neighbors won't write him up in the morning, and fucks you again. you foolishly think another orgasm will break you, but all it takes is for him to press his thumb into the dip of your asshole and tell you he's going to fuck you in both holes one day for you to fall apart again.

by the time he's done with you, your legs feel boneless and you don't even want to think about the situation between them. (you had asked him to cum in you, and he did. there was so much, he had to push some back into you with his fingers, and you cummed one more time.)

you feel seungcheol's dead weight slump onto the bed beside you. you're still face-down, but you turn as far as you can to look at him. it's unfair how he still looks good now--his bangs, dark and curly with sweat, crown his forehead, and you watch his long eyelashes flutter shut.

"fuck," he groans. "how does every time with you get better?"

somewhere inside you, in the parts that still work, you feel a small gleam of pride. it feels traitorous, in a way--the whole point of being friends with benefits was that it was supposed to be conditional, but you're running out of conditions. clearly, it didn't take much for you to come back and not regret it.

seungcheol laughs at your silence. "did i break you? no," he jokingly whines, and he rolls onto his side to return your gaze. he brings a hand up to brush the hair out of your eyes, as if that would somehow magically repair your body. but it does feel nice. "please speak."

"maybe broken. to be determined." seungcheol grins stupidly when you say this, and you watch how his eyes crinkle up at the sides.

usually, it's every man for himself at this point in the night. seungcheol will order takeout and draft some emails, and you hobble over to the bathroom so you can pee and use the shower. he leaves you alone for this part, which is the perfect opportunity to mix all his fancy shower gels together like you're a kid again.

but today seems different. you lie there for a beat in silence, watching each other blink. then seungcheol gets up, slowly then all at once, and walks over to your wrung-out body.

"i'm picking you up," he says, like a warning. "hopefully you're not afraid of heights."

you think he's joking until you feel the strong cords of his forearms--one around your middle and the other under your legs. you didn't even think you were able to be picked up at this point in your life, but somehow he's got you flush against his chest now, almost nose to nose with him.

"wait," you waver, suddenly feeling self conscious about literally everything. you're sticky and smelly and you're not curious to find out if your post-coital form will scare him away. "seungcheol."

"you really plan on walking yourself over to the bathroom? you couldn't make it to the bedroom earlier, and i hadn't even fucked you yet."

"hey!" you protest. he laughs, and you can feel his whole body shake. "wait, i can't laugh too much, or i'm gonna start leaking."

"you've got another thing coming if you think i'm afraid of a little body fluid."

seungcheol bumps the bathroom door open with his ass, which is somehow the funniest and most endearing thing to you. you flip on the light, and he sets you on the counter like it's just a normal friday night for the both of you.

he turns the shower on and turns back to look at you. "how hot do you want it?" then his eyes narrow playfully. "are you one of those freaks who likes getting their skin boiled off?"

"well, you can answer the first half of that question on your own."

"ok. freak."

while he messes with the shower knobs (he's got one of those showers with three separate showerheads), you take a moment to do some more snooping. the first time you were here, you did go through the various things he had on his counter. most of them are still there--the overpriced moisturizer you shamelessly use when you stay the night, a quarter-full bath and body works foaming soap, and a folded up hand towel with his initials on it.

there are some newer additions too. you don't miss how the little jar for your toothbrush is still there, or a small tube of lip gloss you had forgotten to take back a few months ago. he restocked the hand lotion that you said you liked, too.

you're starting to think that there is a small possibility that you are no longer friends with benefits. you're not dating either, but something somewhere in the middle. but how do you say something like that? how would you know, especially when seungcheol is a self-proclaimed forever bachelor who may never, ever date?

you have no time to think about this any further.

"sooo," seungcheol hums, wiping his hands with a bath towel. "i'll be in the bedroom. you want me to order chinese?" you watch him linger around, lamely, like a stray dog.

"wanna join me?"

he smiles, ear to ear.

"thought you'd never ask."

morning comes slowly.

you wake to birdsong and the quiet chatter of the city beneath you. the sun from the curtains is buttery and warm on your bare skin, and time seems to drag its feet. it feels perfect, which is a word you would have never used in relation to any of this, and yet nothing else seems more appropriate.

last night, after your shower (in which you learned that seungcheol always makes his hair into a shampoo mohawk, without fail), you talked for hours over the fattest spread of takeout you had ever seen.

the plan was to put on the office and dissociate like usual, but he finally answered your question about how his day at work was. (tumultuous and drama-filled--that was his first mistake. you love drama.) strangely, by the end of the night, you learned that you had more in common than you thought with a man whose watch collection was valued higher than your entire college education.

"you up?" seungcheol's morning voice comes out sounding like a croak from behind you. you're sure he's about to complain that his arm is asleep from your big head on it, but he doesn't. instead, he settles deeper into your warmth and pulls you closer by the waist.

"yeah," you reply, enjoying the feeling of his skin against your own.

you grab your phone from the nightstand, wondering if your roommate has discovered your betrayal and has blown up your phone. she has, so the two voice memos and twenty text messages in the group chat are no surprise to you.

what is a surprise is the text you get from your ex. can we talk? it reads. it's the first time you've heard from him in months--before that, he had broken up with you (over text) and then proceeded to block you on every platform possible.

your mind starts to spin. you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to text him back. just for closure's sake, you tell yourself, as if you haven't cried at least seven separate times about this. but you will admit, seungcheol has been a great diversion. you don't remember the last time you had a cry, and any progress was good progress to you.

complicating things, said diversion has slotted a leg between yours, and his hand has found its way to your ribcage, distractingly close to your chest. such are the consequences of only wearing a shirt to bed.

"you're so warm," he murmurs, right in the space where your neck meets your shoulder. his hand creeps up, now right over your heartbeat. it doesn't really take much for your body to respond--his fingertips find your nipple, and with a light squeeze, you're already arching back into him. "is this ok?"

"yeah," you breathe. you're distracted, but you figure the best way to un-distract yourself is with a new, better distraction.

now emboldened, he rolls the skin between his fingers, finding he loves the way you shudder underneath him. quickly, he moves out from behind you to hover over you instead, propping himself up by his forearms, and pushes your shirt up over the swell of your tits.

"you good?" seungcheol asks, lips flush to the skin over your heart. he presses another wet kiss to one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth.

"yeah, why?" you have half a mind to hold his head down so he can't ask more questions and ruin the point of being a distraction in the first place.

"dunno." he switches to the other side, licking over a mark he's bitten into your skin. "you looked at your phone and you seemed worried. also, you're frowning, and it's not a sex frown."

damn. you guess you're easier to read than you thought. you don't even have the heart to ask what the fuck a sex frown looks like.

seungcheol's mouth returns to your nipple, and he sucks hard, making you gasp into your palm.

"my ex," you tell him. there's no point in keeping it a secret. the first time you slept together, you had made it clear what your intentions were, which is what made this arrangement work so well in the first place. "he wants to talk or something."

"that asshole?" then another suck, and you keen into him. "you're too good for him."

it's literally one of the three appropriate responses he could have chosen from, but it still feels like a compliment to you. almost too much so.

"yeah. i guess." your voice sounds more wobbly than you'd like, but you chalk it up to the fact that he's now pressing his lips down your middle, all the way down to your core. "hey, i'm ticklish."

"i know." he kisses your belly button, and you smile in spite of yourself. "you smell good, by the way."

"it's your forty dollar body wash," you remind him.

"damn right it is." you feel his breath fan over your thighs, and your stomach flips with anticipation. "legs over my shoulders. you know the drill."

"you don't have to do this, you know," you say, before immediately regretting it. you have a spectacular knack of self-sabotage, which you think seungcheol knows by this point. "you've been really nice to me."

"am i not allowed to like being nice to you?" seungcheol jokes. "would you prefer me to be mean?"

"no," you laugh. you don't know how to ask what he meant. what made yesterday and today so different? it feels like you're on the edge of something, coming close to what you could only describe as more than casual affection, more than desire. "go back to being nice. forget i said anything."

you put your legs over his shoulders, like he asked. one good orgasm wouldn't solve the ex problem or this new seungcheol problem you are starting to discover, but it sure would help you think more clearly.

his lips are soft on you. he has none of the urgency or greed of yesterday; instead, he takes his time with you. his mouth skims over your inner thighs, lightly, drawing out all the breath from your lungs. you make a small noise of impatience, and you feel the stretch of his grin against you.

before you have a second chance to complain, you feel the heat of his open mouth over your cunt, as to drink your taste up. then his tongue, warm, insistent, on your clit, circling it before he sucks.

"o-oh, fuck," you whine, voice muffled by the back of your hand. it feels too early to be loud, and you're already embarrassed by how sensitive you are.

"don't text him back," seungcheol says. he's replaced his mouth with two fingers, now leisurely teasing you at your entrance.

"don't worry--" you manage to say this before he crooks the pads of his fingers into you, right at your sweet spot, and the words are stolen from you. "--about him."

"i'm serious." he laps at your cunt, and with his fingers still buried in you, the feeling makes you dizzy. "did he ever make you feel like this?"

"n-no," you whine, now with your palm shoved right against your mouth. he's added a third finger now, and the stretch is so good, you're going cross-eyed. "never ate me out."

"what?" you hear him tsk between your thighs as his fingers still. "he's missing out."

it's then that seungcheol must have resolved to give you the best head of your life, because you think you black out after that point.

his lips return to your clit, and the pleasure is so startling, you can feel your thighs squeeze shut around his head. unfazed, he continues to pump his fingers in and out of your hole, still fluttering, unused to the size.

"close, 'm so close," you mewl, hips now lifted to chase his tongue. he indulges you, gives you the flat of the muscle to grind against as he stuffs you full.

your other hand finds his hair, and it only takes a moment, a slight pull, for him to moan into your heat--the sound breaks something inside you, and you're gasping, crying out with your high. by now, there are marks from your teeth in your palm, but something about the sting only makes the feeling better.

seungcheol stays sealed to your cunt, removing his fingers only to replace them with his mouth, eager to taste you. he lingers until you're shaking and whimpering, spent from your orgasm and too sensitive to endure another.

he looks up at you, swollen lips and bedhead made worse, and a surge of affection overtakes you.

"kiss me," you tell him, and he does.

it's long, and it's slow, not even close to any of the ones you've had before. you wrap a hand around the back of his neck, and he sighs. you don't think he's ever done that before.

when he pulls back to look at you, it feels as though the air has changed. there are words pushing at your lips. this isn't casual anymore. it can't be, not with what just happened.

yeah, the sex is good, but the first thing you thought of this morning wasn't you or your saturday plans or how to endure the dismay of your entire friend group, it was about him. if didn't count for something, you don't know what did.

"seungcheol, i--" you pause. his eyes are so brown, it's distracting you, and you start to second guess yourself.

"is it about your ex?" he interrupts. "if he asked you to get back with him, would you?"

it's not his question, but his insistence that takes you by surprise.

"n-no." you watch his gaze flicker at your hesitance, and you don't like it. "no, i wouldn't."

"good, because--" he pauses, seeming to gather his thoughts. you try to read his expression, but he can't even meet your eyes right now. "look, i know i haven't had the best track record with dating. i don't even think i know how to date."

"what are you saying?" you ask softly. there's a part of your heart that feels like it's peeling itself back, in a good way.

"i'm saying i want to try." and when you still look confused, he continues. "dating you. if you'd let me."

against all odds, past all the swirling, terrible emotions in your chest, there's a bright surge of relief, of joy. the last time you saw him look so vulnerable was when he reached into his oven to pull out a tray of cookies and burned his hand because he forgot a glove. maybe this whole thing would crash and burn, but you like him enough (honestly more than enough) to try with him.

so you smile, and you watch him frown and pout and look unbearably terrified, and you smile harder.

"ok," you say, playfully feigning indifference. "you can try."

instead of replying, he kisses you again, and it's even better than the first one.

when you finally head out that morning, there's a lightness in your chest.

in the doorway, seungcheol pecks the top of your head before showing you his phone. "which emoji do you want?" he asks, completely seriously. "i want the blue heart."

you pull out your phone to find his contact, which still shows his plain number, just like old times.

"i'm unsaved?!" his jaw drops open like he's animated, and you laugh.

"gotta go," you tease. "see you later."

it's only in the uber home (that he called for you, of course), where you finally put in his real, government name, for the first time. finally, it feels a little more right.

choi seungcheol, it reads. with the blue heart.

#mine #seungcheol #seungcheol smut #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #seventeen smut #scoups smut

2K notes · View notes

fic-heaven · 8 months ago

Text

Ghost x witty reader

Good luck's kiss

Running through the hall heaving like a dog earned you a few confused looks from the passerbys, but the fact that your lieutenant was in the armory about to leave for a month to a mission you were not quite informed of, made you skip breakfast to at the very least, say goodbye. Because obviously that's what friends do... Not crazy fucks with a big-ass crush.

"Hey! Hey!!" You call out to Ghost who by the looks of it, is not happy at all while rearranging his bag near the exit from where you just busted in.

"Don't got time to humour ya, sarge. We are deploying in a few minutes." The tall Brit growls rushing to collect his things, the heavy bag he previously had on the floor was now being launched to his shoulder as Simon got ready to leave the room.

"Weren't ya leaving in like... Half a week?" You breathlessly said getting on his way.

"Yeah well, change of plans. That's our job, sweetheart."

You crossed your arms with a patient look and that seemed to tick him off.

"You weren't planning to simply leave without saying goodbye, right? That's not something my favorite lieutenant would do."

He busied himself checking his gear for the last time on the crusty, broken mirror near next to you that someone had forgotten to throw away as an excuse to spend a few minutes listening to you.

"What would ya have me do? I ain' got no time to fuck around kissing everyone g'bye."

"Do you need a good luck's kiss, LT?"

That shocked Ghost, but he was obviously not going to openly show it, he knew if he was too obvious he wouldn't hear the end of it with all your teasing, so he stood there staring blankly at your reflection next to him in utter silence and you, always so straight forward, weren't one to shy away from this even if it was only a joke.

You moved the paralyzed lieutenant by the shoulders to face you so you could lean in, to your surprise he crouched a bit to your level when he picked up on what you were about to do, your hand went to his jaw tilting his head a bit to the side with his permission, then you planted your lips to the cold surface of his masked cheek. Ghost's eyes remained open, never blinking in a seemingly bored expression while you smiled in amusement at your lieutenant until you spotted the clock hanging from the wall behind him and realization hit you.

"Y'gotta go, what are ya waiting for? A second kiss?"

That seemed to pull him out of his hidden stupor, he blinked twice, leaned back and stretched his neck. "Thanks for the offer. That wasn't awkward at all..."

"Why! I bet you are blushing under there~"

"On your dreams, I only indulge in your stupidity-"

"Oh, for bonding I bet."

"Not really, it's only for my sole amusement."

"My goodness, Riley. You are cold..."

Ghost was about to leave the armory with his hand ready to open the door until he heard this, he turned to you, took a few rushed steps closer his right hand shooting to grab your nape and pressed the teeth of his mask to your forehead simulating a kiss. It was your turn to look openly dumbfounded. Ghost took a peek your way, said his quick goodbyes and left.

He'll never acknowledge the loud dreamy sigh that scaped his mouth when his lungs deflated once he got to the humvee.

Simon could die on this mission and feel a type of peace only belonging to a man who has seen and done everything on his list. Although next time, if everything goes right and he gets back to you, he hopes you'll give him another kiss but this time with no mask.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader

434 notes · View notes

tadpolesonalgae · 1 year ago

Text

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You - Part 8

Pairing: Azriel x third-oldest-Archeron-sister!Reader

A/N: Writing Nesta post-acosf is so confusing so I apologise if she’s a little ooc!

Word Count: 5,552

-Part 7- -🌌🌠- -Part 9-

It’s been while since you last ate with all of them.

Even so, the atmosphere is familiar. Jovial. Pleasant enough you can allow yourself to slip into spectation, vanishing in your mind’s eyes, becoming an observer without presence. Shadows flicker at the corner of your vision, and you’re brought back down to reality.

The restaurant lights are warm and yellowy, a magic barrier constructed at the room’s border to keep the temperature pleasantly mild, inky darkness swirling just beyond the threshold. Candles flicker, almost in time with his shadows. It’s hard to tell when natural darkness ends and his begins. But he doesn’t really like it when people stare at them, so you avert your eyes. Scratch the backs of your hands beneath the table, softened a little by cream.

By what you can only assume was a stroke of bad luck—or good, depending how you want to feel for the rest of the night—everyone had already settled into the dinner by the time you arrived, leaving a single seat open. Yes, you could’ve pulled over a chair, or requested one to be magically summoned, but that would be drawing attention to the issue, which would undoubtedly make the ineffable off-ness of your relationship with him that much more blatant.

So there he is, a steady presence to your left, situated at one end of the table. Elain to your right. How unfortunate. Or lucky, depending on the angle.

Take a sip of your water, unsticking your tongue from the roof of your mouth. Lean slightly over to your sister. “Have I missed anything?” Cocoa flick to you, warm and soft in the mellow light, a little tired. Half-circles beneath her eyes. “Nothing much. I was planning on visiting Lucien again—hopefully within the week.” She answers mildly, a faint smile in her eyes. “There’s also a possibility of Nesta going over to have a look at the libraries in the Day Court.”

“Woah,” you mumble. “Looking for anything in particular, or simply for recreation?”

Elain shrugs, eyes flicking across the table. “Ask her,” she says simply.

Spine stiffens.

With fae hearing, plus the close proximity, there’s a high chance everyone heard that exchange. Refusing to do so will only draw more attention. You shoot Elain a reproachful look for putting you in this situation but she smiles encouragingly.

You find the elegant shape of your eldest sister a little further down the table—across and two over. Opposite Cassian who is beside Elain. Sharp eyes flit to your own a second after you’ve sought her out—she definitely heard. At least you didn’t vocalise any dismay over the forced interaction.

“Day Court?” You inquire, raising your brows in interest. She nods, lips parting in a smile, “quite the trip, isn’t it.” You laugh—trying to remember where the Day Court is in conjunction with Night. Come up short. “Already read through all the books here?” You reply, trying to keep the conversation fluid. Gaze absently flicks over the various plates and trays of food, picking out the things you’d like to try. A waft of something delicious floats down the table—a covered bowl sits between Rhys and Feyre. Soup, most likely. It has your mouth watering from the scent alone. Would be divine with some buttered bread.

“Nowhere near,” she responds, still smiling. “But there’s a particular author we’re after, and I’d like to see if I can find more of his books in those libraries.” You hum, nodding your head in acknowledgement. “Different from The Runaway?” She blinks, then nods, “you’ve read it already?”

“Yeah. Finished it last week,” you answer, peering at the dishes closer to you, wonder what you can pick. It’s mostly meat. Some roast potatoes, poultry next along covered in an orange-red sauce that smells spicy.

“What did you think?” She asks, carefully ladling gravy to the edge of her own plate. It’s your turn to blink, recalling the story to the forefront of your mind. Exhale heavily, leaning back into the chair. “I don’t know, really,” you admit honestly, “there was a lot in it, I suppose. I’m still digesting it, in a way. Do you know what I mean?” She nods, eyes softening at the edges—you’ve said the right thing. “I think there’s a lot in it; a lot happened to him, and I think it did a good job on highlighting how perspective can be manipulated. I also like how the creature was only alluded to in earlier chapters while the first part of the plot was unfolding so you end up overlooking it?”

She gracefully cuts through a potato, dipping it in the gravy before neatly depositing it in her mouth. Elegant and refined. “Yes, I thought that was an interesting way of telling his story. The complications between Yvette and Hans helped with the initial distraction, I think.” Lips twists into a slight frown. “The section—I think around chapter seventeen? Eighteen…?” You pause, picturing how far through the book it was, then shake your head. “Around there, anyway. The section about those lights in the sky?— I had to put the book down for a bit.” You admit, smiling as you recall the passage.

Nesta nods her head. “I couldn’t believe it, either. I think I actually had to stand up and get myself another cup of tea to calm down when he connected the dots.” A grin parts your lips wider, skin warming at the memory. “Anyway,” you say, redirecting the conversation, “a different author.”

She nods in confirmation, “a different author.”

“Romance?” You ask, remembering her appreciation for the genre.

Something passes through the room, hairs slowly raising at the back of your neck. Eyes slide to Elain, but she’s conversing with Cassian, attention shifted away from you. Gaze flicks back to Nesta who has a tight smile on her lips—it’s still odd to see her smiling so openly and frequently.

“No, actually,” she begins slowly, cutlery lowering to her plate. Her fingers remain pressed tight to the metal. “It’s a spell-book,” she says, silvery-blue eyes gleaming like moonlight despite the warm glow about the private space. Brow furrows a little as you peer at her across the table, “a spell-book?” You ask. “What do you need a spell-book for?” Her spine straightens, attention moving to her meal as she slices into some meat, mouth opening to continue.

“The baby warrior’s been having doubts about his wingspan, I’ll bet,” Amren croons from across the table, snatching your attention. Your brow dips further, eyes now shifting to find Cassian further down the table—the other side of Elain. He seems fine, laughing brightly. “Is there a problem with them?” You ask Nesta, remembering how torn up they’d been after the mess with Hybern and the cauldron.

She shakes her head, lips lifting into a grin as she meets Amren’s steel-coloured eyes. “She’s just jealous,” Nesta returns, “Varian not treating you well?” Sharp eyes flash with challenge. “Maybe they should compare notes. I’m sure your mate could learn a thing or two,” she taunts, effectively ending your conversation with Nesta. A part of you wants to learn more—your natural inclination—but Amren’s whisked her away into conversation, Mor stuck between them.

Attention again flits to Elain, but she’s still contained in conversation with Cassian, leaving only the keen pair of eyes on your left to entertain yourself with. Raise the glass to your lips, forcing down a mouthful of the alcohol, ignoring the light pulsing in the forefront of your head. Skin prickles beneath his attention, fingers shifting over your cutlery as you move to take food to your plate.

It seems rude to interrupt Elain’s conversation—you always go to her first. She speaks to people other than you, and probably enjoys doing so. You should leave her to enjoy the night. Take another drink of the clear liquid, shadows flickering in your peripherals as you set your sights on Nesta. Wait for an opening.

“What do you want the spell-book for?” You ask, feigning ignorance to their conversation. As if the question just appeared on your tongue, falling out before you could stop it. Two sets of sharp eyes cut to you, a single set of caramel flicking to steel warily. “A containment spell,” Nesta answers, slicing up some vegetables on her plate. “To bind.”

Amren’s lip curls into a distinctly predatory grin, almost warning. “Needing to spice things up so early in your relationship?” She croons. “I would have given it at least another few months before you two were in need of a bonding activity.” A fourth pair of eyes joins the discussion though he’s still wrapped in his own exchange. The hazel to your left has probably been observing for some time, too.

Nesta offers the petite female a tight smile, equally warning. Mor claps her hands, hastily breaking up the exchange. “Will you pass that down? Cass, be a dear and— no, next to it— the other side—yes! Thank you!” You watch slightly enviously as she ladles soup into a bowl, taking a slice of fluffy bread and slathering butter over its surface. Trace the soup as it’s returned to its place at the far end of the table, between Rhys and Feyre, one seat down from Nesta and Cassian.

And just like that, dialogue ebbs and flows around, leaving you with no way in. You’re quite glad for the reprieve. These dinners generally leave you in need of a weeks sleep to recover, by which point the next one is already scheduled. Exhausting. You don’t know how they manage it. Attention is still weighing on you as you raise your cutlery, poised to begin slicing into the meat upon your plate.

Elain is still preoccupied—to your steadily growing dismay. Nesta and Amren are locked in a verbal sparring match, while Mor chimes in here and there, occasionally attempting to rope Cassian in, too. Just to stir things up. Shadows flicker in the background.

His attention is becoming difficult to ignore. Clear your throat softly, focusing on cutting through the meat, slicing it into bitesized chunks. “Is something the matter, Azriel?” Shift the cutlery in your hands, easing up the pressure on your knuckles from the effort of cutting. He watches silently, his own plate clean and empty.

“Not at all,” he replies quietly, voice unliltling and void of inflection. Your brow twitches toward the centre, neatly spearing a chunk of flesh. Swallow in preparation. “Nothing?” You question, equally softly, biting down on the dead animal. It comes apart easily on your tongue, softened in a skillet somewhere, bathed in oils and rosemary, sprinkled with salts and spices. Force yourself to chew and swallow. “Nothing,” he repeats back, hazel eyes resting on your jaw, flicking to meet your gaze.

Finish your mouthful, move to the next sliver. Spike it on your fork. Half raise it from the plate then stop, lowering it quietly. “What are you watching?” You ask, eyes flicking down to your plate, skipping away from his. “Many things,” he answers vaguely. Shadows flicker at his back, wreathing his wings, tucking behind them. “I’d rather not be part of those things,” you murmur, finally biting down on the tender flesh. Chew enough so it’s digestible, then swallow. Think about nice things, like the books at the house, golden eyes, and dried flowers. “You’re in public,” he replies, tone still without inflection. “That’s an impossible request.”

Three pieces left, and it’ll be done.

“You can look elsewhere instead of staring a hole in my head,” you murmur. “Maybe,” you add hastily, softening the sharp suggestion. These situations always put you a little on edge. So many people.

He’s quiet for a bit, but his attention doesn’t shift, despite his gaze moving to be further down the table. You manage another chunk of meat, teeth dully masticating as you grind the flesh down, focusing on the herbs and spices in place of the ashen, earthy flavour of the animal carcass.

Azriel’s attention weighs into you, skin prickling, hairs raising at the back of your neck as you try to ignore it. It’s probably being exacerbated by your imagination. Raise the fifth and final piece to your mouth, thinking about rotating planets and cocoa, of whiskey and caramel as your teeth bite and chew absently. He’s still observing; you shift in your chair, swallowing the mouthful. Reach for your glass, gulp down the clear liquid.

Nearly choke, the alcohol burning your throat. Nose scrunches before you can help it, covering your mouth with the napkin while you cough as quietly as possible. Elain pats you on the back making you smile as you overcome the initial shock. “Something go down the wrong way?” She asks, lips curving in a grin she’s clearly attempting to suppress in favour of a more sympathetic expression. Puts those attempts to rest when you laugh quietly, nodding to the liquid. “Too eager,” you whisper, refolding the napkin. Elain covers her own mouth, shoulders shaking with muffled mirth; you shoot her a playful glare.

Mor, sitting opposite Elain; beside Nesta, breaks from her conversation with the two, attention flitting to you, as if she had been lying in wait for her chance. “So!” She says, golden hair shining resplendent beneath the glow, like a flame encased in honey. “When shall we go shopping?” Her hands clap together, red lips parting in a friendly smile.

Oh.

You’d blessedly forgotten that promise of hers.

Swallow uneasily. “It’s fine… The polish and lip tint were lovely,” you smile, hoping she’ll leave it be. “Nonsense,” she chirps, collecting a few more roast potatoes onto her plate, Amren gingerly taking a few after her, nose almost wrinkling with suspicion. “You love books, and I apparently need a reason to spend time with you, so a shopping trip is perfect!” You offer her what you hope is a steady smile, one that disguises the strain you’re feeling, “I don’t want to be a bother—it’s fine, really. There are plenty of books in the library, anyway, and I’ve barely made it through the first two levels.”

Brows shoot up to her hairline. “Every book? You’ve been reading all of them?” You blink at her surprise, then hesitantly dip your head. Anxiety bubbles in your stomach, hands gripping one another as tension slices through your shoulders. “Are they— Am I not supposed to?”

“Oh, no! Nothing like that. Read away!” She laughs, raising her hands in a calming gesture. “I hadn’t expected your interests to be so different, is all,” she smiles. “I tried to read a couple from the library when I was younger and nearly bored myself to tears.” You smile faintly, relaxing back into your chair. “I guess they’re not for everyone,” you reply, posture softening against the back of your seat.

Mor laughs, the sound like wind chimes caught on a stray breeze, golden hair glinting in the warm light. You have to look away. It feels wrong to even look at her—to try and place her individual beauties. Peer down at your empty plate, hunger gnawing at your stomach lining. You should have remembered to eat before coming along.

“So what about tomorrow?” She asks, dipping buttered bread into her bowl. Raise your head to look at her, confusion lining your brows. She smiles easily, “for a shopping trip, of course.”

“Not every creature enjoys being put through your endless chatter, Mor,” Amren snipes from her side. The blonde female pouts, throwing a glare to the petite Fae on her right.

Warm toffee eyes flick to cocoa, brightening with an idea, “Elain could come along too!” Spine goes rigid, every ounce of willpower straining to keep from glancing to your left, wondering what he’s thinking. Swallow heavily, stiffening as your older sister is brought into the discussion. Mor smiles eagerly, “what do you say, Elain? Fancy a shopping trip tomorrow?”

Nails slice into your palms, piercing small crescent shapes into your skin—you’ve been trying not to bite them. Press further back into your seat, muscles coiling with anxiety. Not both of them.

You can practically feel the moment steely silver eyes pick up on your reluctance, like she has a sixth sense for picking at scabs. But Elain sighs apologetically, “that would be lovely, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline this time.” Relief washes over your skin, bathed in a cool breeze. “I told you so,” Amren snickers to the blonde female.

Mor’s brows dip together, “oh, piss off Amren. I know you like picking out clothes to wear for Varian with me.” The cunning female raises her glass to her lips, taking a slow sip. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replies smoothly, Mor’s lips twitching at the obvious denial.

Turn to Elain, taking in the natural glow of her features. “Have plans?” You ask quietly, hand absently resting over your stomach. Involuntarily glance at the soup further up the table, tongue flicking out over your lips. She shakes her head, softly curled silky hair cascading over her slim shoulders. In your peripherals, you can make out how shadows stretch across the table, reaching. “I’ve been dreadfully tired lately,” she admits, equally hushed.

Brow furrows in concern, about to ask further, but Mor’s on you again. “Guess it’ll just be us tomorrow!” She smiles genuinely, excited for the plans. When you glance sidelong at your sister, she’s already settled back into conversation with Cassian, your youngest sister and her mate joining in. You nod in surrender, accepting it’s something that has to happen. It would be overtly rude to decline her invitation now.

“Great! We can squeeze in a lunch, too,” she grins, washing down the soup with a glassful of wine. “Maybe you can direct me to some of the more interesting library books,” she suggests, eyes sparking with excitement. You nod again, fatigue beginning to weigh on your shoulders. It’s nice watching them, but you frequently forget how draining it is to be involved.

Lean back into your chair, pulling your stomach in as you feel pressure grow—you’d die of embarrassment if it started growling. Hastily drink some more in attempts to fill it up. Hungrily eye the plates of food. Maybe the poultry wouldn’t be too bad with the sauce—chicken was hard to come by all those years ago.

A delicious scent catches your attention, shadows skittering away as he silently ladles soup into his bowl. Nobody asks about the shuffling round of plates. Stomach rumbles and you flush, hands clamping over your stomach as humiliation burns along your skin. Mouth almost watering, but you force yourself to wait; appear only mildly interested in the food. An appropriate amount of attention for a dinner.

His hand knocks into the bowl, pushing it aside to make room for another dish, so it’s to his right. Almost subtle enough to appear accidental.

Still, you finally help yourself to the soup, equal parts affection and shame weighing in your gut.

————

The night air is crisp and cool, soothing the warmth of your skin as you follow quietly a way behind the group.

Feyre and Rhys have already made their way home, not liking to spend too long away from Nyx, despite knowing he’s well cared for. There seems to be discussion ahead of taking things further for the night, perhaps more drinking.

After having left the restaurant, Nesta had sought you out. You’d been surprised to say the least—a little on edge—but it had been nothing to worry about. She’d merely extended an invitation for you to join her on their trip to the Day Court. Perhaps to seek out some books you’d been interested in, she’d suggested.

You’d politely declined.

Now you turn to Elain, the darkness bringing out the slight dip below her eyes. “You okay?” You ask, the chatter of the streets soothing background noise. Fading to a constant hum in the back of your mind, falling into the empty recesses. She nods, sighing heavily. “I’ve been having some trouble sleeping,” she replies quietly. “And, I’ve…” shakes her head. “Maybe I’m coming down with something,” she sighs again. “You always were more prone to sickness than the rest of us,” you reply, nudging her shoulder playfully.

She smiles gently, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Maybe I’ll come and cough on you so you get ill for once,” she grins.

Nose wrinkles as you smile, “gross.” She laughs at that, then the two of you fall quiet, walking together in companionable silence. Trudging your way back to the River House, keeping fairly close to the main group who are still deciding whether or not to turn in for the evening.

You know you’ll be heading back to the House of Wind for the night.

Curious to see if a response has been written.

————

The House is quiet. Halls empty and silent as you pad down the corridor to your room.

Maybe you should check with Nesta whether she wants you to move out of here—switch to the River House. Anxiety slices at your gut, fatigue weighing your eyelids at the thought. You’re sure she’ll say something if she wants you out. You aren’t keen to initiate conversation with her unless necessary.

When you enter your room, candles are already lit, courtesy of the House. A few clothes lay on the floor, but it’s mostly clear. Almost tidy.

Parchment rests across your desk, and you eagerly hurry over.

Nothing has been added.

Excitement dies away, scratching at the backs of your hands absently.

Wearily take a seat, playing with the pen between your fingers, chewing on your lower lip. Debating the merits of bothering him when he’s taken no interest in your last comment.

Toss the thoughts out your window, throwing all caution to the wind.

Long day?

Bite down on your tongue, pulling at the top most layer of skin until you bleed. Wait for the paper to disappear. Seconds tick by, counting as they drain away. Steadily turning into minutes. Lean your cheek on the table, slumping forward as boredom creeps in, the pendant clunking as it hits the wooden surface of the table.

Do you remember your twenty-first birthday?

You aren’t particularly sure where the question comes from. Maybe the still-boxed jigsaw puzzle sitting atop a dusty stack of books has something to do with it.

Paper vanishes, and you perk up, straightening in your chair, fingers flexing. Excitement stirring in your chest. Absently reach for a pot of cream, unscrewing the lid as you trace the desiccated skin of your knuckles. Slowly soothe it in, rub the dips between your fingers, pretending your hands are someone else’s.

Parchment reappears, having you eagerly lean forward.

No.

You scowl at the curt response, twiddling the pen in your hands.

Sour and miserable indeed. Were my earlier questions not interesting enough to deign a response?

Letter vanishes, your feet tapping against the floor, fidgeting with the writing instrument. Turn to the anthology as you usually end up doing while waiting for his reply. Flip to the page you’d bookmarked, removing the silver embossed fabric. Lips quirk when you spot the title: Explosions: Rapid Division.

Shift the book so it’s in the centre of your desk, reading the introductory passage, instinctively scanning the diagrams with intrigue. Paper reappears atop the pages.

You forget I am a high-ranking individual with a multitude of tasks to attend to. I don’t get to spend my days simply lying around to pester the only person who’ll give me a scrap of attention.

Cheeks heat with embarrassment, yet you find yourself smiling at the familiar sharpness of his tongue. Ease out a deep breath, relaxing into your chair, flicking the pen in your dry fingers before lowering it to the parchment.

I think if you truly felt pestered, you wouldn’t be responding at all. Feeling lonely over there, Eris?

The paper vanishes, and you treat yourself to an image of his brows narrowing, lip curling as ire blazes in caramel eyes. Mouth widens into a smile as your feet tip-tap on the floor-boards, absently dipping your finger tips into the pot of cream again, putting more over the roughness of your skin as you wait patiently.

Parchment reappears, heartbeat picking up with excitement.

And what about yourself? The hell-cat is leaving for quite a while, isn’t she?

Lips part on a sharp exhale, spine straightening as your eyes flick about the room anxiously. How does he know that? Should you tell someone? Brow narrows in concentration, mind scrambling to think up a response that won’t give anything away, without sounding so vague he knows you’re avoiding the question. Swallow heavily, rubbing in the last of the cream, reaching for your pen. Lower it to the desk, and falter. What do you say? Is feigning ignorance too obvious?

The letter vanishes before you’ve had a chance to even put a speck of ink upon it, and it dawns on you that the question was timed. Picture the way his lips part is a slow smile as he sees the blank paper.

Manipulative bastard.

I suppose she’ll be taking the brute with her, too?

Fingers tighten on the pen, teeth grinding. Is this why he warned you about Eris? Because of how quickly he can extract information through carefully assembling pieces? Jaw tenses, but more silence will be confirmation.

How do you know any of that?

Chew on your lower lip as you await his reply, heart pounding. Azriel would be furious. Swallow down the nausea, teeth sliding beneath your nails—toeing the line of biting down, but restraining yourself.

Really, how do you think Court politics works? Of course we keep tabs on one another. I’m sure your shadowsinger has plenty of spies littered throughout Prythian. Possibly further, too.

Blood ices, peering down at your necklace and the map contained within. Imagining how wide his net must be to thread throughout it all. How much work it must take to keep everything running. Ruthless discipline. How tiring it must be. The weight, the pressure to keep it all maintained.

Head beginnings swimming at the thought of it. Would you even be able to keep up with him?

Why are you telling me this?

The pen scratches over the parchment, struggling to keep lines clean through the slight tremor in your hands. You can’t even begin to comprehend how much work must regularly go into sustaining such a network.

It’s a little embarrassing that you don’t already know. What are they teaching you over there? How to be an emotional burden?

The words hit sharp in your chest, hooks latching into the soft, vascular muscle of your heart. Poised to shred in an instant. Awaiting for the split second of weakness to rip. Rupture the organ in a clean tear.

Fear spikes.

I understand why your brother wants nothing to do with you if that’s how you speak with people.

The words are stamped into the page before you have time to reason it out. Blood rushes round your ears, wincing as your fingertips burn with the faint embers of power that have begun sparking up every now and again. Preemptively reach for the hand cream, preparing to soothe the itch once it fully manifests.

He’ll read into that comment. You know he will. Read between the lines to figure out just how much that one stung.

Parchment reappears and you warily lean forward, eyes skimming the clean script.

I’d been wondering where you kept your lovely claws, cygnet.

I didn’t mean to write that.

Wipe hands on your skirts, anxiety kicking up in the pit of your stomach. Roiling with worry.

You knew perfectly well what you were doing. You simply despise the way you are.

Has anyone else commented on how similar you are to Nesta Archeron?

Heart sinks to your stomach, biting on your tongue until you taste copper. Dislike how deep he’s wormed his way already. How did things go from light-hearted sparring matches to full scale battle in so few conversations?

And what about you? You write, mimicking his earlier diversion. Do your brothers share your affinity for poisoned words?

The parchment vanishes for a while this time, though you don’t even try to distract yourself with the anthology. Leg taps anxiously, trying to rub cream into your hands, hoping if it’s done tonight, they won’t ache tomorrow. The last thing you need right now is another flare up. Try to focus on the scent—light and sweet. Like gardenias and sugar.

Your attempts to redirect are as graceful as the first steps of a freshly birthed hound. Perhaps once you settle into your skin you’ll become more skilled at deflecting uncomfortable topics.

Skin prickles, hairs standing on end as you again raise the pen in hand. Considering routes to return to earlier discussions that weren’t so intrusive.

Alternatively, you could choose lighter conversation starters. For example, why did you send the anthology?

Certainly not the most succinct switch in direction, but better than continuing down that path. Ease a breath into your lungs once the paper vanishes, reminding yourself you don’t have to reply to him. At any point, you’re free to leave. Lean back in your chair, stretching out your limbs, muscles spasming and aching in your shoulders, fingers trembling as bones click in your spine. Deflate into the seat, muscles relaxing all at once.

You haven’t noticed anything yet?

Brows furrow, peering at the volume. Close it and flip it over—nothing on the back. Reopen it to the contents page, peering at the compilation of titles, authors, and page numbers. Scan the introductory section again, searching for anything to give you a hint at what he’s talking about.

(Writing about.)

I’m mildly concerned to ask? You write, keeping the conversation light, steering away from the earlier topics. Hoping he’ll keep away from family-related chatter.

Then read away.

Heart spikes at the ominous reply. What the hell is he talking about?

Eris, are you serious?

Paper vanishes, reappearing moments later.

Nothing but.

Roll your eyes at the response, but again set pen to paper.

If you were a human, you’d be riddled in various worry-marks by now. Does that thought upset you?

Lips quirk faintly, hoping it irritates him sufficiently.

Is this how you cope with discomfort? Pretending it away? Making light of it?

Damn him.

Instead of…?

Instead of hiding like a coward. Your blithe little act is growing dreadfully monotonous.

Straighten in your chair, shifting uncomfortably. Are you boring? Is that it? Is that the whole reason he…

Do fae have milestone dates like humans do? You said you don’t remember your twenty-first.

Paper disappears, and you become aware of the tension coiling in your shoulders. Maybe you should turn in for the night. Writing to him is supposed to be fun, not make you feel so…

Squirm uncomfortably, slouching in the seat. Crick your neck, releasing built up pressure, stretching your toes. Move to blow out the candles, but the letter reappears.

You really are turning out to be quite dull.

Brows scrunch with hurt, then even out. It’s ridiculous to be upset over behaviour he’s made no effort to hide. You shouldn’t be surprised he’s not changing, yet you had hoped…

Swallow, then sigh, the pen feeling heavy in your hand.

And you’re unnecessarily barbed.

(Who taught you to be that way, Eris?)

(Am I going to grow up to be like you?)

Paper vanishes, but you find yourself awaiting a reply. Marinating in your room while your lids grow heavier, shoulders slumping with fatigue, the base of your spine beginning to ache.

Stand from your desk, eyes flicking unwillingly to your nightstand, a small, royal blue gift box sat neatly atop it. The tule bow as resplendent as ever—shifting between vivid purples, reds, and pinks. Azriel’s gift.

(Sometimes, when it gets particularly bad, I like to look at it before I go to sleep. Fantasise about being the female he likes, instead of the one I am.)

(Sometimes, when I want to indulge in misery, I like to imagine dressing up for him. Imagine him telling me how pretty I am, imagine him sliding the golden hooks into pointed ears.)

(Sometimes I imagine.)

(Sometimes I imagine, because it’s the closest to reality I’ll ever get.)

Hear the distinct sound of paper on the table, and you still. End up turning anyway. Move over to your desk, reading the message.

You can do better.

Write again when you’re ready to show your claws.

Slump into the seat, head tipping back, staring up at the ceiling. Arms fall dully to your sides, too tired to feel anything.

Sigh heavily, forcing yourself to stand in favour of pulling away your clothes. Rid yourself of every constraint, pendant clunking on the bedside table.

The same-old, off-white cotton night gown swallows you, falling to your ankles as you settle into the mattress.

And to think, you’d been considering asking what things were like in his court.

How nice it might have been to make a trip of your own.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch

CBMTHY Taglist: @impossibelle @naturakaashi @sakurafrost3-blog @ficienjoyedrbspot @azriels-shadowsinger @marina468 @misstea12 @going-through-shit @fussel9913 @minakay @i-am-infinite @wannabewolf @thegirlintheshadows101 @kennedy-brooke @esposadomd @horneybeach1 @jeannineee @harrystylesfan2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @abysshaven @starlight-hope @stupidwingboy @nastynesta @luvmoo @furiousbooklover @kuraikei @kemillyfreitas @chasing-autumns-chill @marvelpotter @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @nightcourt-daydreaming @vanderlinde @fall-myriad

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x yn #azriel angst #azriel acotar #CBMTHY #azriel x reader angst #CBMTHY Chapter 8

669 notes · View notes

fluentmoviequoter · 6 months ago

Text

Lonely in Misery

Requested Here!

Part 2 Here: Lonelier in Misery

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!paramedic!reader

Summary: Bailey notices that you're lonely and miserable while Nolan notices the same about Tim. They decide to set you up on a blind date, but it only ends with more sadness.

Warnings: mention of motorcycle accident, pure fluff (the title and summary are misleading, my bad)

Word Count: 2.0k+ words

A/N: @newobsessionweekly here's some soft Tim if you're interested🥰

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Let’s go!” your chief calls. “Motorcycle accident on Wilshire.”

You nod as you gather your equipment. Being a paramedic is stressful, but you work with an amazing team. It’s too bad you don’t have the same kind of community in your personal life. Working with your best friends is great until you can’t hang out or talk to anyone because they’re on different shifts.

“Single rider?” you ask as you climb into the ambulance.

“Dispatch didn’t say. Only called for one ambulance, so I assume,” your chief replies.

“Hey, maybe it’ll be a single guy and you can nurse him back to health and finally get a date,” your teammate in the driver’s seat jokes.

“Ignore him,” Bailey says, rolling her eyes.

“Ignore who?” you tease.

As the BLS rescue ambulance pulls out, you sit back in your seat.

“Are you okay?” Bailey asks softly.

“Fine,” you reply. “Just… I don’t know.”

“I get it. We, uh, we haven’t been able to hang out in a while. What have you been up to?”

“Nothing. Work, eat, workout, sleep, repeat.”

“Yeah, you’ve been kind of mopey.” She reaches her hand toward you and smiles when you lay your hand in hers. “This job is hard enough without being lonely. Why don’t you go on a date or just go hang out somewhere, meet somebody?”

You shake your head and brush off her concern with a half-true promise, “I’ll be fine. I’m looking forward to when our schedules give us time to be friends again. If I can get out away from Nolan, of course.”

Bailey smiles and rolls her eyes but squeezes your hand reassuringly. You know she isn’t convinced that you’re fine. Your job is more important, though, so you decide to focus on the motorcycle rider who needs your help rather than the empty home, the empty life you’ll go home to after your shift ends.

“Hey!” Tim yells harshly. “Socialize on your own time, boot!”

His new rookie ducks his head and walks quickly after abandoning his conversation. Tim has been grumpier than usual lately, and he’s taking it out on everyone in the station. When he yelled at Sergeant Grey, who only shook his head and told Tim to take a breather, Nolan knew what was happening.

“He’s lonely, right?” Nolan asks Angela.

“Incredibly,” she answers without hesitation. “It’s been worse, though, so his sports buddies must have gotten busy, married, something.”

Nolan nods. He has an idea, but he knows better than to suggest Tim go on a date where he could overhear or be told. As he walks toward his shop, Nolan makes a mental note to ask Bailey if she knows anyone who would be willing to go on a date with Mid-Wilshire’s resident grump.

“Do I look like I care about your engagement party?” Tim asks across the garage.

“Hey,” Nolan says as he walks into the house.

“Hi,” Bailey replies.

Nolan hugs Bailey and sighs against her.

“I need your help with something,” Bailey says.

“Anything,” Nolan replies as he steps back. “But I need a favor, too.”

“My best friend is lonely and needs a date.”

Nolan’s brows raise as he adds, “My coworker is lonely and needs a date.”

“Did we just plan a blind date in under thirty seconds? Are we really that good?”

“Depends. Is your friend interested in someone like Tim Bradford?”

Bailey considers the pairing for a moment but smiles as she pictures you balancing Tim and him providing an edge that you haven’t experienced in years.

“Oh, yeah,” Bailey decides. “She’ll be interested.”

“Great! Now I just have to convince him to actually go on the date,” Nolan muses.

“Good luck.” Bailey laughs before she realizes, “I have to get her to let me set her up too.”

“Well, if she’s anything like Tim, appeal to her misery.”

“Yeah, because it’s better than absolutely nothing and complete unhappiness is the perfect way to pitch a date,” Bailey scoffs. “I’ll get my friend there, and you convince Tim your way.”

“I hope this works,” they say together.

“What’d you do last night?” Bailey asks as you exit the locker room.

You step back in surprise at being ambushed the moment you arrive but recover quickly. “I made dinner, watched a movie, and went to bed. Why?”

“Because you’ve got a date tonight, so we’re switching it up.”

“Bailey,” you begin.

“No, no, hear me out before you decline. Please? I’m doing this as your best friend, I promise.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “Pitch this guy. But, Bailey Nune, if you say it’s Nolan’s brother Pete I will find a new best friend.”

“Oh, no. I love you, I would never do that. Besides, the whole point of a blind date is that I don’t tell you the guy’s name. But…” She raises her finger to emphasize as she adds, “Nolan and I both know him well and he’s a great guy.”

“You’re gonna have to give me more. I don’t want to go on a date just to say that I didn’t spend another night alone, Bailey.”

“Completely. I know you, though, okay, and this guy he’s- he can do and be everything you want. The romance, the connection, the best friend that is also your life partner, what you are looking for in a guy, this is it. I promise. And, if I’m wrong, I’ll bail you out of the date and I will clean your equipment for the rest of the month.”

You purse your lips as you think about her offer. She does know exactly what you want in a man, and you trust Bailey’s judgement. “Fine. I’ll go on the date.”

“Yes!” Bailey cheers as she hugs you. “I’m so glad. You’ll feel so much better after you’re not miserable and lonely anymore.”

“You should’ve been a motivational speaker,” you deadpan. “Now don’t mention it again until we get off. This can’t be the topic of conversation for the rest of the day; I’ll never live it down.”

“I’ll stay quiet and think of the perfect outfit for you,” Bailey says as she follows you into the heart of the station.

“Officer Bradford,” Nolan calls as he walks across the bullpen.

“Yeah?” Tim asks.

“I’ve got a proposition for you. Or a question, idea, whatever you want to call it.”

“Then spit it out, Nolan.”

“Right, yes, sir. Bailey has a single friend, and we want to set you up on a blind date.”

Tim’s face remains impassive as he shakes his head. “Pass. Ask Aaron.”

“No, Tim, I’m asking you.”

“And I’m not interested,” Tim argues.

“Look, you’re lonely and miserable, so you’re making all of us miserable. I know you – sort of – and I know this woman. She could be really good for you.”

“If you’re wrong? Because I think you are.”

“Then leave the date! You’re not losing anything more than a few hours.”

Tim takes a deep breath before he asks, “Why do you think she’d be good for me?”

“She can be the balance that you need, and she understands some of what we deal with daily.”

“Don’t tell me she’s a lawyer.”

“Oh, no, I know better than that. So… is that a yes?”

“It’s a hesitant yes,” Tim answers. “When?”

“Tonight.”

Tim nods once before he walks away to reprimand a rookie. Nolan watches him yell and hopes that he and Bailey are right. Because if they’re wrong and the date goes poorly, Tim will be worse in the morning.

You sit in the front of the restaurant and await your date. Bailey said he’d arrive after you. She never explained how you were supposed to find each other, though. As you watch people come and go, you grow discouraged. You shift your attention from the door to your hands. Several minutes pass before the door opens again, and you look up but don’t expect anything.

“Tim?” you ask.

You’ve seen Tim Bradford several times in passing. At wrecks, crime scenes, and various Los Angeles law enforcement meetings. He’s always been kind to you, and you remember that you may have mentioned finding him attractive to Bailey before.

“I’ll assume you’re my blind date, then,” Tim replies. He smiles as he adds, “I’m not as disappointed as I expected to be.”

“Wow,” you say through laughter. “If I’d known you were such a flirt, I would’ve asked Bailey to set us up sooner.”

Tim shakes his head, and you join his side as he gives his name to the hostess. As you walk to the table, a sudden awkwardness descends. There’s no good way to begin a conversation on a blind date, you realize. Tim takes his hand against the menu but looks similarly lost about what to say.

“I guess being lonely and desperate worked in my favor,” you joke.

“Oh, I can guarantee that I was lonelier and more desperate,” Tim replies. “Nolan used that to convince me to come tonight; said I was making everyone else miserable with my misery.”

The mood lightens with your playful jokes, and you smile at Tim.

“Since you’ve had to pull an arson suspect off me before, should we skip the small talk?” you ask Tim over your menu. “Or do this the normal way?”

“There’s nothing normal about this,” Tim comments.

Your phone buzzes in your bag, but the Are you still miserable? text from Bailey goes unread.

“Okay, I hate this,” you murmur as you set the menu aside. “Can I just sit beside you?”

Tim’s smile grows as he stands and offers his hand. Once you’re seated beside him, where you don’t have to lean across the table to talk, you don’t even remember the miserable feeling that led Bailey to set this date up.

Tim leans over to whisper, “I’m glad I agreed to the date,” and you move closer to him as you answer, “Me too.”

As you walk out of the restaurant with your hand in Tim’s and a joyful smile on your face, you don’t want the night to end.

“Same time next week?” you ask as Tim slows.

“What about the same time another day this week?” he suggests. “I had a great time, and I want to go out again. If that’s what you want, of course.”

You pull your phone out and hand it to Tim, ignoring Bailey’s text. He puts his number in and texts himself, so he has your number, too. You grow giddy, something you thought was a thing of your past.

“I think this is the best date I’ve ever been on,” you tell Tim as you begin walking again. “Thank you.”

“Nolan and Bailey are gonna take credit if we tell them the blind date worked,” Tim points out.

“Yeah,” you agree, drawing out the word. “But I don’t think I can hide how happy tonight made me. Not from Bailey, at least.”

Tim nods like he understands as you stop. You turn to face him, and he raises the hand that isn’t in yours to hold your cheek. There isn’t a question or doubt in your mind as you kiss Tim. What was supposed to be a date to cheer you up and get you back out of your mundane, lonely life is already becoming so much more. As Tim releases your hand to hold you and pull you closer, your entire world brightens. Neither you nor Tim are lonely, let alone miserable, with the prospect of a new relationship with one another. You pull back when you can’t stop smiling against Tim’s lips.

“Thanks,” you whisper.

“For what?”

“All of it.”

Tim smiles and brushes his thumb under your bottom lip. “If I don’t see you before Friday, I’m looking forward to our date. And I’ll pick you up at the fire station.”

“Are you sure about that?” you question. “Bailey will tell John.”

“They’ll have to learn sooner rather than later that there’s no room for them in our relationship.”

Your smile grows at our relationship, but you lick your lips to keep your excitement from showing. “They’re both born meddlers.”

“Let’s stop talking about them,” Tim murmurs as he leans in again.

Bonus:

When you arrive home, you see the text from Bailey and answer: More miserable than you can imagine. I’m going to sleep to escape it. Sure, you left off the part about being sad because the date ended, but she’ll find out soon enough.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford fic #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie x reader #the rookie abc #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯

323 notes · View notes

billybob598 · 1 year ago

Text

Wanna Know Something? (Mary Earps x Reader)

Yoooooo, i posteddddd. I know, I haven't written anything in so long, my bad lol. Hopefully this makes up for it. Remember, any feedback good or bad is welcomed. Enjoy reading!

Word Count: 1.6k (wtfff idk how i did that ngl)

“Hey, good luck today,” you hear somebody whisper. Turning to look at the speaker you see Mary reaching out her fist towards you. You smile and bring her into a hug.

“Good luck querida,” (darling) you mumble into her ear. Mary places a soft and discreet onto your neck, your legs almost give out at the action. As you pull away you reach out to Leah who was ahead of both of you. She turns and gives a quick hug to you, her Arsenal teammate.

“Vamos Y/N,” Rafaelle says over her shoulder as the officials start to move forward. You quickly get back to your line and try to focus on the game ahead.

Mary had been your girlfriend for almost a year now. You were the starting goalkeeper for Arsenal and Brazil. Sometimes, you couldn’t believe that Mary loved you, she was so amazing, so funny, so kind, one of the best people you knew for sure. Now, you were playing against each other in the Finalissima. This was a big match. Brazil was hungry to prove that they could compete against top European teams and this was a perfect opportunity. When the national anthems start to play you feel a sense of pride grow inside of your chest. Here you were, in front of a packed Wembley Stadium, playing against your girlfriend for a trophy. It doesn’t get much better than that.

As you near the goal you’ll be protecting you do your pre-game traditions. Touch the left post first, then the right, then jump and touch the crossbar. After, you sprint to the edge of the 18-yard box, kneel, and say a quick prayer. Done. You mentally lock in for what you know will be a tough match.

At halftime, you’re frustrated. England had been controlling most of the ball, they had also gotten a few shots on target. You could do nothing more when Toone finished off a fantastic build-up by England in the twenty-third minute. All throughout Pia’s halftime talk you are planning a speech to the team. Just before you guys head back out, you stand in the middle of the locker room and start to speak,

“Listen, I know everyone out there is rooting against us, so let’s use that to our advantage. Let it fuel us, make us hungry to beat them. They came to see an England win, not a Brazil one. Let’s show them why we are Copa America champions!” This gets everybody fired up. You can sense the shift in the energy of the team, everyone is excited and motivated to prove themselves. The second half is a different story than the first. While England still controls most of the ball, your Brazilian team was creating more chances, being quicker on the counterattack, and finally starting to test Mary. As the game heads into stoppage time, you can feel your heart start to sink. You feel yourself start to lose hope. Then, out of nowhere, Mary bobbles the ball and Andressa jumps all over it, putting it in the back of the net. You scream, jumping up and down with excitement. Soon after that full-time is called. Taking a deep breath, you calm your nerves before the penalty shoot-out. Your goalkeeper coach reminds you of all of England’s penalty takers habits.

After giving your teammates fist bumps and high fives, you make your way towards Mary and the ref who are already waiting for you. The ref runs through all the penalty rules for you guys. When she finishes speaking and leaves the two of you alone, you turn to Mary and with a smirk reach your fist to her. She grins at you and moves to fist bump you, only for you to dodge it at the last second. She shoves you with a playful smile tugging at her lips. You laugh, before starting the walk to the goal.

England has the first penalty. You jump up and down on your goalline, doing jumping jacks trying to distract Stanway. As she takes her first step, you analyze her, deciding to dive to your right. It turns out to be the right decision, but you can’t quite get enough to push it out of the net. You groan as the ball ends up behind you. When Mary gets a hand on Adriana’s shot you hold your breath, only to release it as it rolls into the back of the net. When Ella Toone lines up to take the penalty you know where she is going. You dive to your left, reaching your hand out to block the ball. It bounces off your hand, and for a second you can’t believe it, you saved it. The ecstasy is short-lived however, as you watch the ball roll back towards the penalty spot your head smashes into something quite hard. The post. You black out immediately. Most of the fans groan at the missed penalty. Toone turns away and starts to make her way back to her team. Mary’s the first one to realize something is wrong when you don’t get back up right away. She runs over to you, turning you over to see your eyes closed and a massive gash on the side of your head. Panic overwhelms her body, she grabs a hold of your face trying to get you to wake up. Your Brazilian teammates rush over, all screaming for medics. Rafaelle reaches you and checks for a pulse. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief when she finds one. Some of your fellow Brazilians wince at the amount of blood coming out of your head.

“Come on baby, please wake up,” Mary begs to your limp body, “wake up for me please.”

The medics finally reach you, they wrap something around your head to try and stop the bleeding. Geyse takes your girlfriend’s arm and slowly moves her away from the situation. Mary feels tears start to sting her eyes as she watches the EMTs load you onto a stretcher and take you straight to an ambulance. Wembley breaks out in thunderous applause as you get taken away from the field. The backup goalie jogs onto the field while slipping on her gloves. Mary is conflicted, on one hand, she wants to go to the hospital with you and make sure you’re okay. On the other hand, she knows she can’t just bail and that she has to finish the rest of the shoot-out. She decides to stay on the field with the knowledge that she’s going to dedicate the last few penalties to you.

Mary saves two of the last three and lets out a warrior yell when Kelly sinks her last penalty. She’s so happy and proud that she almost forgets about your condition. Almost. When she sees Rafaelle talking to Leah with a solemn look on her face she rushes over eager to see if your best friend had heard anything about you.

“So?” Mary looks at her expectantly.

“She’s still out, but she’s stable. So far everything is okay.” Mary breathes a sigh of relief at the news.

“I’m gonna head there now,” the English goalkeeper decides, moving towards the locker rooms. Leah grabs her arm.

“We have to do the trophy lift,” her captain tells her.

“Leah, come on, can’t I just go see her?” Mary asks.

“You can go right after, but you should be there for the trophy lift, at least.” Mary nods, sighing. During the celebrations, Mary is just going through the motions. She tries to hurry up the process so she can go see you. Finally, Leah gives her the go-ahead and she rushes to the hospital. When she reaches the hospital reception she’s panting heavily,

“I’m here for Y/N Y/L/N,” she says in between heavy breaths. The receptionist nods and shows her to your room. Mary slowly enters, confused when she hears the TV on. Fully opening the door, she’s met with you grinning at her with your arms spread wide.

“Congratulations! Finalissima winners, that’s pretty cool!” You say brightly. You cock your head to one side when your girlfriend doesn’t respond instead just staring at you. “You okay?” She doesn’t answer, opting to hug you. The air gets knocked out of you, but you hug back.

“Oh my God, Y/N. Y-You were bleeding and w-weren’t moving or an-anything,” she chokes out, tears streaming down her face. You kiss the top of her head gently.

“Don’t worry querida. I’m right here, see?” You gently whisper to her, tilting her head up so that her eyes meet yours. “I’m okay.”

“You’re okay,” she nods looking like she’s trying to convince herself. You nod and wipe the tears off of her cheeks delicately. You scoot over and pat the space beside you. She hesitates for a second before giving in and getting into the hospital bed with you. You guys cuddle as you watch the Lionesses celebrations on the TV. She can tell you’re starting to doze off so she whispers into your ear,

“We would’ve won even if you were in the net.” You smirk slightly.

“In your dreams Earps. We all know I would have saved at least one of those.” She rolls her eyes at your antics and kisses the top of your head,

“Just go to sleep, love.”

“Wanna know something?” Mary gives you a questioning look, prompting you to continue. “Metal posts are really, really hard. I would not recommend ramming your head into them. You might not feel great for a bit after.”

#mary earps #mary earps x reader #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #woso imagine

467 notes · View notes

jobesbabe · 10 months ago

Text

Proud of You / Jobe Bellingham

ps i made this gif so give creds if u use it!

warnings: established relationship, fluff, bar setting

summary: tired you cozying up to your winner of a boyfriend. based loosely on the Sunderland vs Plymouth Argyle match and it’s (fictional) aftermath.

You sat patiently with the other wags for the majority of the first half. Your boyfriend was on the bench and so was his mate Chrissy. There were yellow cards thrown, One at your boys in red, and two at the opponents in green. Approximately one every ten minutes. You pulled your Sunderland scarf a bit tighter and sighed. To you, the match was plain and boring. You adored football, even teams other than Sunderland, but if it was Sunderland, your Jobe better be playing. A few minutes after Phillips earned his yellow, you heard cheers and cries erupt from the Stadium of Light. Everyone around you looked disappointed. Plymouth Argyle had scored. As you stared at the number nine on Hardie’s back, You felt it taunting you. That should be a red jersey, with a number 7 that read ‘JOBE’. If only were that easy.

Relief came for you as the ref blew his halftime whistle, reminding you your boyfriend still had forty five minutes to go out and prove himself.

You expected the manager to have him walk out onto the field, and start the remaining forty five, but he didn’t. Your sighs grew louder wondering when your man would get out there on the field.

seven minutes passed and you joined in with the roar of fans, as Roberts moved with the ball, you could tell if he passed it to Ekwah he would score. And he did, equalizing it for the two teams. You cheered for the Jobe-less Sunderland, wishing it had been your Jobe who scored the equalizer.

Seven more minutes passed and Clarke sank a second into the back of the net giving Sunderland an advantage over the visitors. It was like someone was winking at you with the number seven and everything associated with it. Good luck, Jobe. Jobe. Jobe is the number seven. You were sure in seven minutes his manager was going to sub him in. You were sure.

At the 65’ minute mark, two minutes before your seven minute timer would go off, Jobe was subbed in along with Chrissy in exchange for Abdoullah, and Pierre.

So, maybe I was wrong, about the seven minute thing but who cares, he's in now, you thought to yourself. You smiled as he ran up and down the field. as your timer begins to alert you, you see Neil make an amazing pass to Jobe and him just put that ball away in the corner.

You cheer so hard for him, yelling “That’s my boy!” and he celebrates with his teammates before turning to your section and blowing a few kisses. You begin to blush and the wags around you laugh and poke a bit of fun.

The rest of the game flew by, the result remaining where Jobe had left it. 3-1. You made your way to wait for the boys to shower. As you waited, Keeley, Alex Pritchard’s partner came up to you and talked with you about plans for the night and how they were all going out to a bar. You told her you’d run the idea past Jobe and she thanked you.

As he walked out to go see you the fresh-faced Jobe couldn’t help but smile. You ran to him and he picked you up and spun you around.

“I’m so proud of you! That was amazing Jobeee!” you exclaimed.

He grinned cheekily and tilted his head.

“You think so?” he asked.

You laughed and kissed his cheek as he put you down.

“I think some of the guys and their partners are going out for drinks if we want to join them,” Jobe said.

“Oh yeah, Keeley mentioned something yeah.”

“lets go out with them yeah?” he asks.

“Sure,” you reply as you leave to his car hand in hand.

Jobe and you make your way inside a bar close to the outskirts of the city. You see it’s been mostly cleared so the lot of you could hang out there without many disturbances.

You sat between Keeley and Jobe drinking just a club soda with lime since you didnt feel like drinking.

After a few hours and meters of seperation from Jobe, you began to get tired.

You crept into Jobes lap and cuddled into his neck with your eyes closed. His cologne was as intoxicating as alcohol to you and you breathed it in like it was your oxygen.

He rocked you back and forth humming and your ear was pressed to his chest listening to his heartbeat as it steadily pounded.

He kissed your hair and you smiled.

“baby, im so proud of you.” you said.

He laughed and picked you up bridal style, putting you in the car to bring you home

————————————————————————

that’s it!

a/n - I turned off anon requests bc literally the same person is using it over and over again for the same request and also left rude ones so i’d rather know who they came from. Requests are open but not anon… In due time i will turn anon back on. dw. Thanks for the understanding

thanks for reading! leave comments, like and follow! thank youu!

#jobe bellingham #footballer imagine #jobe bellingham x reader #sunderland afc #footballer x reader #football #jobe bellingham imagine #imagine #oneshot #footballer one shot

260 notes · View notes

wrrrenff · 1 year ago

Text

Restless Nights In the Devildom

Obey Me: Shall We Date Mammon x F! Reader Synopsis: After a long day in the devildom you can't seem to get any sleep! So of course the only thing to do is go annoy your best friend Mammon. Thing don't turn out as expected when you get to his room...

Warnings: 18+, smut, restraints, bondage, p in v sex, kissing, marking, domination

Gif credits to the creator!

Today had really taken its toll. Three exams, breaking up a fight between Satan and Lucifer, and in the middle of cooking dinner for everyone Beel kept trying to eat my ingredients! All of it was adding up and you were dead tired. So why couldn’t you fall asleep? It’s been two and a half hours and nothing. You could cry at how frustrated you were.

You decided that if you can’t sleep you might as well go annoy your favorite demon. You don’t even bother to knock on Mammon’s door. At this point you are both so used to each other just barging in. When you opened the door you noticed a lump on the bed. As you got closer you saw the white hair you’re so familiar with. He was asleep. Perfect opportunity to fuck with him. His face does look really peaceful… Do you really want to ruin that? Hehe fuck yeah i do.

You slowly reach towards his shoulder, ready to shake the ever-living hell out of him. As soon as you make contact Mammon grabs your hand and quickly fling you onto his bed and straddles you and holds your wrists tightly against the mattress. *What the fuck just happened* you thought.

His furious eyes take a moment before realizing who is underneath him. He smirked. “Well well well. Look who we have here. Does the little human think she can sneak up on me that easily?”

You were breathing hard. This is not how you expected this to go at all. But you weren’t mad at this situation. Or the position.

“You okay princess? You’re breathing real heavy.” Mammon said with slight concern, slightly lifting his weight off your legs but still holding your wrists tight.

You liked this. You didn’t want it to stop. Instead of responding you decided to try something. Slowly but carefully, you lift your knee and press it between his legs, rubbing it back and forth slightly. Mammon moaned. Hard. So devilishly sweet.

“Oh, you want to play like that huh?” Mammon flew off of you and started digging through his dresser drawer. Did he not like it? You worried that you upset him and went too far. That is, until he turned around and you saw the rope and cuffs.

Before you even had a second to think you were being tied up to the demon’s bed frame. You pull at the restraints with no luck at getting out.

“Too tight?”

“They’re fine but…”

The demon raised a brow. He gently grabbed your chin and slowly lifted your face until you were forced to look at him. “What is it darling? Use your words.”

Damn demon. You didn’t want to admit how badly you wanted him but you conceded. “I want to touch you. Make you feel good.”

He chuckled, low and rumbly. It made you squirm. “You came to me. I make the rules. You’re lucky I didn’t use my gag.”

“Well there’s already one flaw in your plan, genius. You forgot to take my clothes off before tying me up.”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem sweetheart.” Suddenly he uses his strength to rip your clothes off. It was so easy for him. Like taking a tissue out of the box.

“So wet for me already and we’ve barely even started.”

He was staring at your figure, eyes full of lust. They were hungry eyes, intimidating. You couldn’t help but shift under him, suddenly feeling self conscious. Before you had too much more time to think about it, Mammon dove in and kissed you hard. You didn’t reciprocate at first, taking a moment to register what was happening, but quickly enough you came to your senses and kissed back. Mammon place one hand on the back of your head, slightly pulling at your hair, his other hand at your breast, lightly teasing your nipple.

He started moving his lips lower. Down your neck biting and sucking hard, almost like he was trying to leave the most obvious marks he could so everyone would know you belonged to him, even if just for this one time. He is the demon of greed after all.

You were a moaning mess. You wanted to touch him. Feel the closeness between you too. It was so FRUSTRATING. It didn’t take long for your moans to turn to impatient whines.

“What’s the matter, princess?”

“I- I want to feel you” you were a panting mess.

“Not yet, baby.”

“Can’t you at least strip too? I want to see you. All of you.”

He seemed to contemplate this for a moment, stroking his chin in the most dramatic way like the idiot he is. He was drawing this out. After a minute he got close to your face and whispered “I’ll see what I can do”

He straddled you and started taking his shirt off. You’ve seen him shirtless before but this time was different. You’ve never wanted to feel up to someone more than you did right now. You try to reach for him but don’t get very far due to the cuffs.

“You’re cute” He continues stripping, your eyes watching hungrily. As he takes off his underwear you can’t help but wonder how the fuck that thing is going to fit inside of you. But you didn’t care. You want him and you want him now.

“Fuck me please! I need it now!” You were practically begging at this point. You could see Mammon wanted to tease you some more but even he was getting to his breaking point. He lines up with your entrance and slowly starts pushing in.

“F-fuuuuucking hell!”

He stops half way through. “Need a sec?”

You nod, struggling a bit to get any words out. After a moment you tell him to continue. He eventually bottoms out inside of you and you have never felt so full in you life. You Loved it, but you needed more.

“Move please!”

“As you wish my princess.”

He starts thrusting and immediately hitting all the right spots. Mammon leaned down and started lapping and sucking one breast while teasing the other with his hand. Feeling the heat between your bodies and all of the sensations he was making you feel, it was pure bliss.

“Mammon faster! Break me!”

Without any hesitation he started going faster and harder, your hips meeting his as best they could considering the restraints. The bed was creaking like crazy. Any other day you’d be worried that this much noise would get you in trouble with Lucifer but you could deal with the consequences later. Mammon moved off your breast and up to your neck, creating more love bites. You were getting close and he could tell. Mammon reached down between you and started rubbing your clit in circles, turning you into a blubbering mess. You couldn’t even form words and more. The only sounds filling the room at this point was just the sound of skin and both of your grunts and moans.

Feeling himself getting closer to the edge, Mammon angled himself a bit differently and was hitting your g-spot perfectly. Only a few more thrusts and you were cumming hard. You went to grab Mammon as you came but were stopped by your cuffs so you were just squirming as you came.

You lay there, still bound by the handcuffs and ropes as Mammon kept pounding into you. You were so sensitive. It felt great. Each thrust into you had you whimpering. He just kept hitting your g-spot. After a minute, it was like you had gained a second wind and you could feel yourself getting close again. Mammon, realizing this, started thrusting even harder into you. You could swear the bed was going to break. Soon you both came, screaming each other's names. You were in such a trance after that you didn’t even know your own name. Mammon collapsed on top of you, panting like crazy. After catching his breath and regaining some strength, Mammon released you from your restraints. You immediately grabbed onto him like a koala to a tree. He chuckled and held you close.

After a few minutes of cuddling, you finally broke the silence. “You know, I just came in here to annoy you but if the thanks I get for barging in here, I think I need to do it more often”

The demon smirked “From here on out you can expect a lot more, princess.” You both cuddled up as close as you could to each other and eventually drifted off into the deepest most refreshing sleep you’ve ever had.

172 notes · View notes

joocomics · 8 months ago

Note

hii sweetie ! it's been such a long time since i ranted in your inbox because i've been so busy with uni and all the things i had planned this month (and btw i hope you're doing alright too and are having the best day <3) BUT to the point : dom!junhan (yes, you ignited something in me with remember your first, i admit). because i was looking at the photobook of my livelock album the other day to show it to my friend and i stumbled back on the pictures of junhan on a fucking motorcycle and i need to talk about it.

so dom!juhan who's also a racer, and maybe he's even doing some illegal races because that's even more hot. he'll be getting cocky everytime you come to see him race, asking you to keep your eyes on him only before kissing you roughly and pulling you closer by your throat to show all the other men that you are his (AAAAH)

also he'll insist on bringing you everywhere you want to go, reminding you to hold him tight, maybe even pulling you closer to him when he feels you hesitating because you don't want to hurt him. and of course he does that because it's safer for you, and not at all because he loves to feel your whole body pressed against his back. not at all.

whenever he brings you homa late at night, he doesn't stick to dropping you in front of your door, no. he's coming up with you, pining you against the door and kissing you roughly. if he's frustrated because he lost his race, he'll be extra rude and mean : never letting you cum, calling his slut and whore, forcing his cock down your throat, holding your down into your pillow while he's splitting you in half to muffle your screams of his name, but even that is not enough to make you shut up about how much you love it when he takes control of you. also fucking you before his race because you're his "good-luck charm", leaving every exposed part of your body littered in his marks and your panties stained with his cum to keep you waiting until you both get home and he gets down on his knees to reward you. <3 (do whatever you want with that, i needed to let it all out)

I’M SO HAPPY TO HAVE A HARD DOM!JUNHAN ENTHUSIAST ON MY SIDE especially when it’s you omfg

cw: hard dom!junhan, pain kink, possessive behaviour, degradation, orgasm denial

racer bf!junhan who loves seeing you in the crowd and winks at you before the race starts. most times he wins and the first thing he does is to make his way to you and kiss you deeply in front of everyone. you feel his crazy heartbeat; the familiar hand is hugging your throat possessively; you taste the adrenaline rush from his tongue. so many eyes are watching you from all sides, because even though many of them don’t know you personally, they know who you are - junhan’s girl. you’re always there for him with fresh love marks on your neck and big heart eyes not letting him out of sight

racer bf!junhan who is extra mean if he loses - yes. he rarely does, but it always affects him a lot when it happens. he’s silent on your way home, and he’s still silent when he sits on the edge of the bed with hands covering his face. you want to make him feel better, and you do what you always do in moments like this - you stand between his legs only in your lingerie, and you caress his hair while anticipating what’s about to follow. you feel the warm sensation already forming in the pit of your stomach as he grips your ass roughly. “giving your body without me even asking for it? desperate slut.” he pushes you on the mattress watching your behind turning pink from his heavy slaps. “shh, you’re not doing this for me, you just want to get your fuckin’ cunt wet”

racer bf!junhan who lets out his frustrations all over your body in the forms of bites, pinches, hand prints and slaps. he fucks you doggy style with one hand around your neck and the other one on your mouth, because you start crying too loud from knowing that the ecstatic rush you feel building up in your tummy will be painfully stolen from you in a second. every time he pulls out he lets you fall apart on the bed with tears in your eyes, but you always rise up, mewling how much you love him; making sure he knows there’s no one else like him

he ends up overstimulating himself every time. not only does he get completely and obsessively lost in your body to the point of being unable to stop after he cums for the first time, but he simply cannot comprehend how much you can handle, and he wants to see when will you finally tell him to stop and ask for what you need. even through tears you keep looking at him with burning lust; your legs sticky from his cum, are shaking and barely keep you up, but you willingly spread them open again, because his desires come before your own. it results into him repressing your voice into the pillow and pounding into you till he reaches his high again. your overwhelmed body starts slipping from his hands as you break down, finally asking the question. “baby, can i c-cum now? please”

he flips you on your back, positioning you between his legs. “not yet,” he answers calmly, shoving his cock down your throat. he cannot always have control over his life the way he wants to, but he can have a perfect control over you…

#i hope you’re doing amazing sweetie!! <33 ty for the scrumptious thought once again #you just made me even more down bad for this mean junhan 😣#💌: xhdream inbox #— elllisaaa #xdinary heroes hard thoughts #xdinary heroes hard hours #xdinary heroes smut #junhan hard thoughts #hyeongjun hard thoughts #junhan x reader #hyeongjun x reader #xdinary heroes x reader

55 notes · View notes

mateoluvr · 2 years ago

Text

confession

gekko/mateo x f!reader

wc: 1.3k | fluff

a/n: currently down in a deep hole for this man and perhaps going to try writing again cuz of him!? ngl this is lowkey half-assed im srry if it sucks SOBS + not rlly proofread..

you and mateo were basically best friends, not a second goes by where you both aren’t making great memories with each other. but, everyone usually mistook your relationship with him and was surprised to figure out you both weren’t dating. especially his friends from his workplace, whenever he wasn’t on an assigned mission or training with harbor, he was most likely with you. reyna would always try to tell him to just shoot his shot with you, because she figured out he grew feelings for you.

“mijo, I don’t understand how you two aren’t official yet.”

“I doubt y/n sees me more than that reyna..” he sighed.

“no estés triste, you’ll never know until you pop the question.” reyna tries to reassure him.

“sí tienes un punto.. but what if I ruin our friendship over it? I don’t want to scare-“ he gets cut off, when he feels the vibration of his phone. he pulls it out of his pocket, and it was a message from you.

[ y/n ]

hey!! r u down to grab some boba tomorrow? it’ll be a treat on me since you’re going on another one of those missions soon right??

he smiles at your message. reyna asks if it was you who texted, and he nodded.

“what’d she say?”

“oh she wants to grab some boba tomorrow since brim assigned me and the others a task soon.”

“sounds like a perfect opportunity to call it a date and just tell her mijo.” she chuckles, as his face turns red at the thought.

“but what if-“

“shh, I don’t want to hear back talk at me just do it you’ve prolonged it way too long.”

mateo sighs and accepts reyna’s words at last, and she leaves his office and wishes him good luck tomorrow. then he remembers he forgot to respond to your message oh shoot he left you on read. he immediately sends a quick message back so it didn’t look like he was ignoring you.

[ mateo ] i’m so so sorry I didn’t respond sooner!! :( but i’d love to!! same place & time?

to his surprise, you immediately replied back.

[ y/n ]

don’t worry about it! but yeah :D

[ mateo ]

great! see u then :p

[ y/n ]

yep!! can’t wait ^-^

he hearts your message and sets his phone aside so he could finish the last few of the assignments his mentor harbor gave him. although all he could think about was seeing you again (even though you guys literally just saw each other a few days ago). hours went by, but he managed to finish, he grabbed his bag and went home on the train with his little buddies waiting for him at the door, and he told them about his day and how he made another plan with you tomorrow! they all approved, especially wingman, he’s happy that you make mateo’s day lighten up.

then the day finally came, he woke up earlier to help his mama out with some house chores before he left the house later.

his mind kept reminding him about the words reyna said to him yesterday. he kept pondering if he should actually ask the question later when he sees you. part of him wants to do it and hopes for the best, but the other side is just scared to lose over a few words. he shakes it off, and decides to go get ready and made himself look presentable. he wore his usual vest over his black shirt and touched up his hair. he let his little fellows tag along since why not, and off they went on his skateboard.

when he made it to the shop you both agreed on meeting at, he saw you staring at your phone, probably listening to music with some earbuds. he slowly approached you and tapped your shoulder.

“hey y/n!”

you slightly jumped from the sudden touch, and looked up from your phone screen and saw the green hair boy with wingman on his shoulder.

“oh hi mateo! and aww wingman’s here too.” you smiled, taking him off his shoulder to give wingman a hug.

“hey, hey, the rest is here too, dizzy, mosh, and thrash.” he chuckles as your attention was focused on wingman. he adores that his critters and you have such a nice bond with each other, it’s too much for his heart. (he’s in literal awe whenever you’re having a good time with them)

you both finally decide to enter the shop to grab some boba after having a small chit-chat outside.

“what do you want mateo? it’s on me!”

“it’s okay y/n don’t worry about it.” he pushes away your wallet in hand, but you kept insisting. after constant bickering on who’s going to pay, mateo lost because of how persistent you were. the cashier looked so lost while the two of you were arguing and sighed in relief when you both finally agreed on something. you both got your drinks and sat down at a table, and continued your conversations from earlier. as you were both talking you couldn’t help but notice how jittery mateo was, and how he was barely making eye contact with you.

“is everything okay?” you ask in a concerned tone, putting your drink down.

“i- uh..” he mustered, trying to calm himself down.

“you can tell me mateo, what’s wrong?”

mateo started to panic a bit more, and then before he knew it he finally confessed.

“i really like you y/n!” he blurts out, and when he realizes what he said, he covers his mouth immediately. you also paused at the sudden words he just said to you. it was utterly silent for a moment, both of you trying to process what just happened. he was the first to break the silence, and apologized for his out-of-the-blue confession.

“i’m sorry y/n! i understand if you don’t wanna be friends anymore..” he puts his head down on the table in shame, face burning.

but, then the unpredictable happened, and he heard you say, “why would i think that silly? i like you too mateo,”

his head perked up, barely making eye contact with you, he asked if you were sure.

“of course mateo, i’d never think you’d ask- i’m happy you told me though i wouldn’t have the guts to confess to you,”

“i’ll tell you now y/n if you confessed i would’ve taken you in a heartbeat.. you’ve basically been there for me for the thick and thin; anyone would be lucky to be with you- soy serio,”

he grabs one of your hands, and uses his other free hand to hold your cheek, which makes you flustered. mateo still barely being able to make contact; yet still pulling off bold actions amazes you. before anything too intimate happened, wingman rushed up to mateo and pulled on his leg. he looked down, and saw wingman holding a flower, he wanted him to give the flower to you.

“gracias wingman!” he says as he fist-bumps him. mateo hands you the flower wingman picked nearby.

“thank you! that’s so sweet,” you smiled which makes mateo and wingman happy. after you finished your boba, you both decided to go by a nearby park to finalize things. (also so mateo’s buddies can have some fun) you both sat down at a bench while mateo’s critters went to play some basketball with each other. mateo tries to maintain himself so he doesn’t say anything stupid like he did before.

“so- y/n what would you say we are now relationship-wise?”

“it’s up to you.”

“okay then.. mi cariño y/n will you be se mio para siempre?”

“of course mateo, i’d love to.”

“i promise when i come back from my mission i’ll bring you anywhere or do anything for you!”

his eyes light up thinking about all the plans he’d wish to make with you. he pulls you in for a hug since he’s too embarrassed to kiss you in a public place. you embrace his warm loving hug, knowing a new chapter in both of your lives will be starting soon.

“te amo y/n.”

“i love you too mateo.”

#gekko x reader #gekko x you #gekko #valorant #valorant x reader #mateo #mateo x reader #fluff

210 notes · View notes

l-norris · 3 months ago

Text

The summerbreak is over and the Dutch GP is underway!

Honestly, I can feel the years subtracted of my life already, heh.

DISCLAIMER: Remember that this is just for shits and giggles, I'm not trying to actually hate on any of the drivers cuz all (most) of them are very dear to me!

As always - numbers in brackets = lap numbers

- Formation lap is on

- Welcome back to F1, where your hairs grey in a matter of seconds

- Mom I'm scared

- it fuckem wimdy

- heart rate through the roof, anxiety growing

- Lando don't bottle the start please🙏🏻

- It's lights out and away we go!

- ... UGHHH

- death, taxes, Lando bottling the start

- (not actually him but more like the car)

- Didn't even make it to the first turn this time

- 'Red Bull aren't fast' MY ASS

- To be fair Oscar's start was also kinda meh

- so much wheelspin

- Kevin locks up on lap 1 too

- Max pulls away (8)

- "Lando who are we racing?" Uuuuuh... everyone??

- Some battling and overtaking from Lewis (10)

- Spicy battle between Carlos and Pierre (11)

- "We are on Plan A"

- FERRARI🤨

- Just a quick note that Lando actually keeps up with Max

- Alex pits (13)

- Lando in DRS window

- Lewis is on the chase (16)

- It's getting spicy up front

- Boys. Behave.

- "There are no smiles on the Red Bull pit wall. Only grimaces." Good!

- Lando overtakes Max! (18)

- Masterpiece of an overtake

- Guanyu pits (20)

- Lando pulls away (21)

- Wind is picking up

- Bro I was looking away for two minutes and Lando is 3 seconds ahead??

- Lewis pits (24)

- Charles pits (25)

- George pits (26)

- Ferrari got their shit together also?

- rare Ferrari W

- Max pits (28)

- makes me nervous

- Lando pits (28)

- left front issue😀

- But he overcuts Max!

- Sheer, dumb luck, McLaren. Sheer, dumb luck.

- We currently have a McLaren 1-2

- Lando fastest lap (32)

- Only three people left who haven't pitted yet

- Hello McLaren? Are you gonna pit Oscar anytime soon?

- Now's the time (34)

- Charles is third in THAT SHITBOX?!

- Pierre unsafe release

- Lando is now 8 seconds ahead of Max (36)

- Lance speeding in pitlane

- Lando is now 9 seconde ahead of Max (38)

- Pre-Miami me would have an aneurysm

- Lance 5-second-penalty

- Oscar is in George's rear

- GET HIM!

- Oscar is now fourth

- Lando is now 10 seconds ahead of Max (40)

-Kevin gets OBLITERATED by MULTIPLE cars

- Alex is almost in the points

- Why is Max gaining all of a sudden

- Nevermind just a moment of weakness I guess

- Lando is now 11 seconds ahead of Max (44)

- Sorry I'll stop lmao

- Oscar is chasing down Charles

- While Carlos is stuck behind Checo

- Why are McLaren so positive that a Safety Car will come out (47)

- There hasn't been a single yellow flag or retirement so far what are you lot planning

- Carlos finally passes Checo

- Lewis pits (49)

- I know I said I'd stop but 13 SECOND LEAD?? INSANE (51)

- Bro's gonna be a whole pitstop ahead at the end of this

- Very demure. Very mindful.

- A few pitstops happen (54)

- 15 laps to go

- Nothing is happening (59)

- Rare Lando footage on Live TV (62)

- Lewis P14 to P8 btw

- Ferrari flop era is no more

- Fernando passes Nico (64)

- The rookie is in the points now

- Quick update: 18 seconds gap between Lando and Max (66)

- You're doing amazing sweetie

- Nor Ver Lec Podium looking real nice rn (67)

- 5 laps to go!

- Dead silence in the McLaren garage

- 20 SECOND LEAD NOW HOLY SHIT

- 3 laps to go!

- LET'S GO LANDO!

- FINAL LAP!

- RAAAAAAAAAAAH

- 21 SECONDS NOW

- ANY SECOND NOW!

- HE WINS IT!

- SECOND WIN FOR LANDO NORRIS

- POLE, WIN, FASTEST LAP AND DRIVER OF THE DAY!

- GRAND. SLAM.

- He's very calm, very collected.

- Weekend saved, thanks Lando👍🏻

- Also Charles is back on the podium

- No more 'Terrible day for Tifosi'

- CHAMPAGNE POP!

What. A. Race.

Awesome way to start back into the second half of the season. I'm on an all-time high right now, hahaha. Really happy for Lando, and also happy for Charles to be back on the podium!

7 notes · View notes

shelbyshoe · 1 year ago

Text

Looks Like Rent Is Due

One-Shot

Fairy Tail (NaLu) Lucy is fired, again. Saving the day with psychic abilities isn’t as rewarding as you think it is. Down on her luck, and with only half rent, she strikes a deal with her landlord’s brother, a vampire named Natsu. Free rent for free blood. At least it’s a trial run, and he’s incredibly hot. Rated E (smut, vampire bites, blood) Words: 7398

Based on this amazing post.

AO3

FFN

“You’re fired.”

“What? Can I at least get a two-week notice? I have people to feed,” Lucy said. Her manager narrowed his eyes and slapped an envelope onto the counter.

“First, you are the only person you’re feeding. Second, this is the rest of your paycheck. Feel free to leave.” He didn’t wait for her to convince him that she was a great employee and that she needed the money. On his way to the back room, she caught his brief thought.

Thank gods she’s gone.

The front door to the Seven Eleven rang as she walked out of the store for the last time toward her apartment building. The summer humidity settled over her skin. Some of the hair that had escaped her ponytail stuck to the sides of her face. This wasn’t the first time someone had fired her. That’s what happened when you had psychic abilities and just so happen to stop a man from abducting a child at a Seven Eleven. Alright, she could have stopped him a bit less aggressively. But come on. It was either she allowed the man to walk away with the kid or she kicked him in the face to give the kid some time to get the heck out of there.

Lucy was a magnet for disasters. She had stopped two kidnappings, a robbery, a drug deal, and stopped a surprisingly sneaky old lady from pickpocketing everyone that passed by her at the local coffee shop. Every time, she’d had to intervene without a good reason. No one would believe that she could read people’s thoughts.

She’d tried to tell herself that it was none of her business what people thought about. Their evil intent had nothing to do with her. But when she kicked that man in the face today, that little kid appeared so relieved. It made it worth getting fired. Except, she now had to find another job. The Seven Eleven gig was already a miracle. Managers knew her as the girl that kicked the shit out of customers. No one would take her.

Lucy stood in front of her apartment building with a sinking feeling in her stomach. The small apartment she’d moved into had the usual amenities, leaky faucets, missing cabinet handles, and of course the loudest neighbors in town. The ones below her sounded like two giraffes scraping their heads on the low ceilings, and the ones above had two dogs who had zoomies all night. The outside of the building let her know that she lived in a Junji Ito novel. The lock to the gate had long broken, left wide open for anyone to get through. The building itself needed a new paint job, and the banisters had rusted, just begging for someone to fall. But at least it was cheap.

She trudged up the concrete stairs to her second-floor apartment. The little old lady that lived next door sat in the breezeway in a little chair. She cradled a steaming cup in her hands and smiled at Lucy’s approach.

“You’re home early,” she said.

“Fired again.” She pulled out her house keys from her bag as she approached her door.

“You’re young yet. You’ll find another one. I believe in you, Heartfilia.” Ms. Sato took a sip of her tea and closed her eyes in bliss. If only Lucy’s life could feel that good.

“Thank you, Ms. Sato.” She pushed open her door and slipped inside. There wasn’t much to her apartment, maybe that was best in her situation. She pulled off her shoes in the tiled genkan, passed the little kitchenette and the door to her all-in-one bathroom, and dropped her bag on the floor before she sank into her two-seater couch. She had plans to get a new TV to fill the empty space in her living room. That was until she lost her job, again. Now she had to save every penny. She didn’t feel like she had needed one before. There was a used bookstore down the street, so she had piles of mass market paperbacks stacked just below the window in the way she’d seen on Instagram. Lucy’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She found a text message from her best friend lit up the screen.

Levy: Want to come out tonight?

Lucy leaned her head back on her couch cushion and stared up at the water-stained ceiling. Either this was a girl’s night, which she couldn’t afford now that she had no job, or Levy had asked her to be a third wheel again. Levy had acquired a new boyfriend and loved to drag Lucy along to try and find her one too. Her tired body begged her to stay home, take a hot shower, and crawl into bed. Her weary mind wanted to drink and forget her loss of a job. Ah, decisions.

Lucy: Who’s coming?

She hoped that was a hint to leave the boyfriend at home. With her luck, Levy would insist that he join them. Their honeymoon phase was cute and all, but Lucy didn’t want to date while in crisis. Did she even have enough money to go out? She leaned over, pulled her bag into her lap, and took out the envelope that her ex-boss gave her. Inside was a stack of cash. He had counted the exact amount that he owed her for her final paycheck. It included a copy of an official notice of termination. Great. Might as well add them to the pile. Her phone buzzed again. She expected to find her answer about Levy’s plans.

Scumlord: This is your reminder that your rent is two days past due. If it is convenient for you, submit your payment through the client portal. If you are using cash, please slip it under door 101. No checks or money orders. Thank you.

Fantastic. Just what she needed in these trying times. Another message lit her screen.

Levy: Just me and Gajeel. You’ve been working so many hours. You should take some time for yourself!

Lucy: Maybe next time! I’m exhausted.

If Lucy’s calculations were correct, she didn’t have enough money for rent. She needed money or time to find a new job. She stared at the landlord’s message. She had cash at least. Maybe she could go down to 101 and convince whoever lived there to take an IOU. Or she could run down to Seven Eleven and beg for her job back. She devised a plan to tell the manager that she’d heard the gross guy, that she kicked to hell, tell that kid some dirty things or something. Though she doubted that made a difference. She still kicked a customer, and corporate only cared about the money in their pockets. The next time she saw something weird, she’d ignore it. Lucy hated her little gift of reading minds. For her entire life, it had only brought her trouble.

“What people think is none of my business.” If she said it enough, she could feel better when she inevitably allowed things like kidnap to happen. Might as well—

Someone knocked at Lucy’s door. She stood and slipped her phone in her back pocket. She peeked through the peephole and found nothing on the other side.

“Who’s there?” she called.

“Here to collect rent,” a low voice said from the other side of her door. Lucy had met her landlord on a few occasions. He was aloof with longish black hair, owned multiple properties, and was ruthless with rent. He had enough money to live somewhere other than the Junji Ito horror apartment building. This person at her door must be whoever lived in apartment 101. Now was her chance to convince whoever was on the other side to allow her to pay half.

Lucy opened the door with an entire spiel about rent rattled off in her head. All of which evaporated as soon as she got a good look at 101. He stood off to the side and leaned against the metal railing. He braced himself on the rail. The drapey gray sleeveless shirt helped display his perfectly toned tanned arms and broad shoulders.

“I can’t.” She hadn’t meant to blurt it out. To her credit, her brain had run on fumes all week and clearly no longer functioned like an adult.

“You can’t pay?” The man in front of her lifted himself off the rail. Her eyes followed his movement. Bad idea. Now, she couldn’t stop staring at his arms.

“I can do half.” She held up the white envelope.

“No can do.” He crossed his arms over his chest. This was not the time to lust over a random man at her door to collect rent. “When can you have all of it? I was explicitly told by my shitty brother not to accept more than full payment.”

“Look, you seem nice. I’d hate to put you in a bad spot, but I only have half. I just got laid off and need to find another job,” Lucy said. He whistled low and shook his head.

“That’s a bummer. But I still can’t take half.”

“Wait, you’re the landlord’s brother?”

“Unfortunately.” He grimaced and peered down the breezeway.

“What brings you to this dump?” It helped the situation that the hot guy sounded like he hated her landlord as much as she did. If she could soften him up a bit, and get him to talk freely, she could convince him to take half the rent payment.

“Dropped out of college and needed somewhere to go.”

“Man, your brother must hate you to send you here.” Lucy leaned against her door frame and tucked her envelope in her back pocket.

“Probably, but I’m not planning to stay. What brings you here? I was expecting drug dealers and gang members.”

“What makes you think I don’t deal?” she said. His eyes widened before he broke out into a soft laugh. The sound made her want to hear more. “I’m kidding. I’m strapped for cash.”

“Clearly, but I meant that you seem like you belong in a high rise somewhere, not here.”

“It’s a long story. What made you drop out?” she asked.

“It’s a long story.” This time when he smiled, his canines stood out to her as particularly sharp. Either Lucy was extremely lonely, or she’d unlocked a new turn on.

“Well, if you don’t want this money, I’m going to grab a drink with it. You are welcome to join me.” Lucy ducked back into her apartment, grabbed her bag, and slipped the envelope inside.

“I’ll take you up on that,” he said as she locked the door.

They fell into step with each other down the stairs and to the sidewalk.

“So, what is your name, 101?” she asked.

“101? Oh, Natsu.” He lifted his arms to secure his hands behind his head while they walked. Lucy found him oddly relaxing to be around. “What about you, 204?”

“I’m Lucy.” They waited at a pedestrian light and waited for cars to pass. Natsu moved to turn the corner, but Lucy took his arm before he could move on.

“Nope, not that way,” she said.

“There’s a Seven Eleven down this way. It’s not that far,” he said.

“We’re going to the Lawson down the road. I was fired from that Seven Eleven.” When the crosswalk signaled them to go, Lucy stepped off the curb and tugged him in the same direction.

“How did you get fired from a Seven Eleven?” Natsu asked. This was the problem with superpowers. She didn’t know how to tell someone that she could hear people’s thoughts. Most freaked out or believed she was crazy.

“I apprehended a criminal,” she said. The cicadas whined in the lush green trees as they passed a small park. A couple kids laughed with each other on the swings. All the sounds of summer played out in a lull around the neighborhood. Even their chatter matched the ambient sounds of the city. If she wasn’t in such a tight spot financially, she may have enjoyed it.

“Fighting evil by moonlight?”

“I’m the one named, 204.”

“But seriously. What did you do? Attack someone in the store?” His tone implied sarcasm, and Lucy wished she could laugh it off with him. On another timeline, she’d still have a job and could have met Natsu under better circumstances, all bills paid. Her fantasy of a better paycheck loomed over her. Natsu’s smile fell, and he leaned forward to get a better look at her face. “You’re kidding. You attacked a customer? No wonder you got fired.”

“He was being a pervert to some kid! I couldn’t stand there and let him abduct children.” The need to validate her actions made her chest tight.

“You didn’t have to beat him up either. Though I don’t blame you. He sounds like he deserved it,” Natsu said.

“I didn’t beat him. I kicked him.”

“What’s the difference?” he said as they rounded the corner to the Lawson. They passed below its blue and white striped sign and into the air-conditioned building. Lucy followed Natsu to the back of the store and stood with him in front of the wall of refrigerated drinks.

“Beating him up implies that I hit him more than once,” she said and browsed the shelves. Her usual green tea caught her eye. Natsu picked up a bottle of cold coffee and eyed the back of the can. What was he thinking? Wait. What was he thinking? Lucy concentrated on his energy but came up empty. Until now, she’d yet to meet a person whose mind she couldn’t read.

“What? Can’t decide either?” He took up a different coffee from the shelf and meandered toward the alcohol. Either she was finally free of her powers, or Natsu’s mind was as dry as the Sahara Desert.

Damn it, she’s here. The thought had dripped in malice and entered her mind at top volume. Lucy glanced over her shoulder to find the man she’d kicked the hell out of eye her from the register. He narrowed his gaze in her direction as the clerk, oblivious, rang him up. Just what she needed, drama to follow her while she browsed a Lawson with her landlord’s brother.

Natsu had moved away from the drinks and strolled the aisle of snacks.

I’ll kill her. The man’s thought sent a chill down Lucy’s back. She turned back to the drinks, grabbed her usual green tea, and squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, she prayed the man had disappeared. Lucy jumped when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“It’s on me.” Natsu held up two beers, a bag of Calbee chips, and his coffee tucked under his arm. “What?” He followed her eyes to the cashier behind the counter on their phone. “Miss your job already? Don’t worry! You’ll find another one.” He took her green tea and added it to his stuff. She followed him to the counter and surveyed the store for signs of the man. Maybe she had imagined him. Natsu swatted her hand away from the bag when she tried to take it from the counter.

“I got it,” he insisted. The summer air, while tepid, made her feel better. The streets were desolate behind them. “Looking for someone?” Natsu asked. Lucy shook her head and adjusted her bag on her shoulder as they walked back. They turned to the street where their apartment building loomed. When she realized Natsu was no longer with her, she made it to the staircase. He squatted on the corner of the street with a shoelace in each hand. He had placed the bag down beside him to tie his shoe. She crossed her arms over her chest and opened her mouth to make a snarky comment when she heard the voice again.

There she is. The man’s voice was unmistakable. Lucy took a step toward Natsu, who kneeled far from her by the street with his other shoe’s laces in his hands. The man jumped out from the shadows. Lucy stepped back into the massive crack in the pavement. She fell over her own feet to the concrete and lifted her hands in front of her face to block an imminent blow. A wall of darkness blocked the final rays of sunlight. Natsu had stood in front of her, bags dropped at her feet, with his hand clutched around the man’s throat. How had he gotten there so fast?

“You may want to rethink that.” Natsu lifted the man up. His feet jerked around as they left the ground. One of his shoes clattered to the floor as he clawed at Natsu’s grip to no avail. “If I catch you anywhere near my friend again, I’ll have to do more than choke you. Got it?” A grin spread across Natsu’s face, and his eyes lit up. While the man gasped for air, he nodded in Natsu’s grasp. The man crumbled to the ground and coughed. His hand had wrapped around his own throat, now an angry shade of red, as he clamored away. “You forgot your shoe!” Natsu picked up the shoe and threw it at the man. It hit the back of his head so hard that he hit the floor. The man grabbed his shoe with wide eyes and ran from sight. When Natsu turned and held out a hand to help her up, she flinched.

“Don’t worry, I don’t think he’ll be coming back any time soon.” Natsu helped her off the floor and took the bag again. Without a second glance, he trotted merrily up the stairs with their goods. Lucy followed behind him with her heart still in her throat. As not to incur his wrath, she quietly opened the door and allowed him inside. Natsu set the bag down on her coffee table and sagged into the couch. “I think your apartment is bigger than mine,” he said.

“What did your brother put you in? A sardine can?” she asked. Her apartment was already tiny. She couldn’t imagine something smaller.

“Basically, a closet compared to your place.” He leaned forward and took out his can of coffee. His fingers snapped back the aluminum tab. His casual posture did not read as someone who would murder her, but she found herself on edge.

“Are we going to talk about what just happened?” she asked.

“I think he followed us from the Lawson.” Natsu took a long sip of his coffee and leaned back on the couch. “I like your couch too. Need a roommate?” he teased.

“Are you on drugs?”

“Drugs? Where did that come from?”

“I’m serious. What was that?” she asked. He eyed her for a moment and tapped his index finger against the can.

“You are kind of odd yourself, being a mind reader and all,” he said. Lucy’s blood ran cold in her veins. She took an involuntary step back toward the door. Natsu held his hands up in front of him. “It’s cool. Your secret is safe with me.”

“How did you know?” she asked.

“You probed a few times,” he pointed to his head, “but I have guards up, sorry.” He downed the rest of his coffee, placed the can on the table, and leaned into the bag for his chips.

“You’re a psychic? But that doesn’t explain the speed.” Lucy slid her bag from her shoulder and set it down on the floor beside the table. Natsu munched away on his chips, and Lucy sat opposite him on her little pink sitting cushion.

“Not exactly. But I’m not allowed to talk about it. Chip?” He held out the open bag for her. She took some and pulled out her cold tea from the bag. They sat in silence munching and enjoying the air conditioning that she turned on with a little remote.

“Why aren’t you allowed to talk about it?” Lucy had never met anyone like Natsu before. Granted, she’d yet to meet someone like herself. “Is your brother psychic too?” she asked.

“Nah, he didn’t get the gift.”

“Does he have your speed?” Lucy’s phone buzzed in her bag, and she reached over to grab it. A text lit up the screen.

Levy: When was the last time you were outside of that apartment, aside from working? You deserve a night out. She practically heard Levy’s voice through the text. Unless she had an alibi, Levy would insist she join them.

“He does.” Natsu sifted through the shopping bag, pulled out one of the beers, and popped the tab.

Lucy: Just now, actually! I’m hanging out with a neighbor. Her phone buzzed immediately.

Levy: A hot neighbor? Her text included a very suggestive emoji.

“What?” Natsu asked from the couch.

“Nothing. Texting a friend back.” Lucy turned her phone face down beside her and sipped on her tea.

“I’m faster than him,” Natsu said. It took her a moment to remember what she had asked him before.

“Your brother?”

“I mean, he tried to beat my speed, but I always have the fastest time.” Natsu grinned to himself and took a drink of his beer.

“I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me. Let me get this straight, my landlord is a super speedy guy, and his brother can read minds but isn’t allowed to talk about it,” Lucy said.

“Look, I’m not allowed to talk about it with just anyone, but you clearly are just as weird as we are, so I’m sure he’d let this slide,” he said. Lucy’s heart raced in her chest. She didn’t expect the excitement that came with those words. Would she feel less alone if she could finally talk about her gifts with someone like her?

“We’re vampires,” Natsu said. The world dropped beneath her. She needed to get this clearly delusional drug addict with brother issues out of her apartment. She lifted her phone to check it and gave herself a moment to escape.

Levy: Lucy Heartfilia! Do not leave me hanging or else I will call you!

Lucy: He is good looking, but he is my landlord’s brother. It isn’t what you think. She hoped that was enough to keep her from calling. Now was clearly not the time.

“No, I’m not a drug addict with brother issues.” Natsu rolled his eyes and finished off his beer. “Do you recycle?” He crunched a can in his fist and pointed to his empty coffee.

“Stop reading my mind! And yes, the cans go in there.” She pointed to the kitchenette. “There’s a bag under the sink.” Her phone buzzed in her hand. Natsu got up with the cans in his grasp.

Levy: Ohhh free rent? Lucy had almost forgotten about her rent problem. Natsu’s relaxed demeanor and possible insanity really put a wrench in her plan to talk her way out of paying in full.

“Ah yeah, the rent,” Natsu said from the kitchenette.

“I said don’t—”

“Read your mind. Yeah, I got it.” Natsu waved her off and sat back on the couch. Lucy leaned back onto her palms. “Well, now that you know I’m a vampire, maybe we can make a deal for rent.” He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands steepled together. From her angle, Natsu resembled a movie villain.

“A deal? Look, I tried to get you to take half the rent. I can get the rest by the end of the week if I can get another job.” Lucy didn’t want to make a deal with a drug addict, but her back was against a wall here.

“I’m not a drug addict.”

“How am I supposed to believe that you’re a vampire? That’s crazy.”

“You’re a psychic and you don’t think vampires can exist?”

“Fine, I’ll bite, what kind of deal?” Lucy heard her phone buzz again but left it alone. Levy could wait.

“I feed from you, and you get free rent. You can use the money to take a vacation or have more time to look for a new job. I get fed, which I’m currently having a hard time doing since the blood bank is low on supply. A win-win if you ask me.” His grin revealed the sharp canines from before. Could he really be a vampire?

“Feed? As in bite me? I’d rather not go to the hospital for an infected human bite.” She sat up and drank more of her tea.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not human then.”

“I’m going to be honest with you because you can read my mind.”

“That’s fair.”

“I think you’re a lunatic.”

“I’ve met lunatics and I can assure you that I am not one of them. But my offer still stands. My brother clearly stated he will not take half rent.”

“You couldn’t just ask him to take half?” she asked. Natsu tossed the empty bag of chips into the plastic shopping bag and stood.

“When I say he won’t take half, I mean it. That man will not budge on something like this, trust me.” He threw the trash away in a bag under the kitchen sink.

“Do you mean that, or do you just want to bite me?” she asked. Natsu leaned on the entry to her small hall and laughed.

“You really are fun to be around, you know that?” He ran his hand through his messy pink hair. She had to admit that she hadn’t lied to Levy. The man was hot. If only he wasn’t crazy. “I mean it though. He won’t take it.”

“But you’re so convinced that he’ll let it go if you get to feed from me?”

“Yeah. If he thinks it’ll get me closer to getting a big boy job and out of this apartment, he’d allow it. Saving money on blood supply would do that.” He pushed away from the wall, his eyes lit up, and he snapped his fingers. The gesture was so comical she expected to see a little light bulb above his head. “I have an idea.” Natsu bounded back into the living space and crouched next to her. He sat on the heels of his feet and draped his arms over his knees. Lucy leaned back at his sudden closeness.

“I’m afraid to ask,” she said.

“Why don’t you try a trial run?” he asked.

“Come again?” Close up, everything about Natsu remained pristine. The flawless skin and attractive turn of his lips made her rethink his immortal status.

“We can do a monthly trial,” he said, “I take your blood, and you keep your money. If you don’t like it, then you can go back to paying for rent the old fashion way next month.” His excitement was infectious and terrifying. The truth was, she had no idea where she was going to look for a job. She couldn’t go back to the convenience stores. Retail was hell and she had a better chance of running into people with malevolent intent. If she took this little trial, she could stash her money away and buy her time to find a job in another industry, something quiet.

“How do I know you’ll keep your end of the bargain?” Lucy couldn’t believe she entertained the idea.

“I live downstairs from you. Even if I didn’t keep my end up, you could find me easily and kick my ass,” he said.

“Do we have a contract or something?”

“I’m fine with your word.” Natsu shrugged and gave her a million-watt smile. She couldn’t help the way her stomach flip flopped. Either she had reached the limit of her loneliness, she had lost her mind, this man had mind control over her, or it was truly a good deal. Either way, she took his offered hand and shook it.

“It’s a deal then,” she said. He dropped her hand but made no move to stand up. “Uh, when did you want to start?” Her heart hammered in her chest as he leaned in and sank to his knees in front of her.

“Now, if you’d like,” he said. If she moved mere inches, she’d be able to kiss him. The idea rattled around in her head but all she could do was nod. Had he heard that little thought? Natsu moved her hair over her shoulder, leaned in with both palms pressed to the ground on either side of her, and hesitated at her neck. “I did hear that.” First, she felt his warm breath against her neck, then the exquisite sensation of his lips against her skin. She melted into him.

“You should stay out of my head,” she said.

“Do you want in mine?” Natsu took her arms in his grasp and pulled her against him. Lucy’s breath caught in her throat, and with apprehension, she concentrated on his mind.

Beautiful. The first word she’d picked up from him made her heart flutter. Hold still, Lucy.

When his fangs pierced her skin, she balled his shirt in her hands. The pinpricks were followed by the most overwhelming lust she’d ever felt in her entire life. A soft moan slipped from her lips, and his grip tightened around her arms. Her sex clenched painfully with need. A long draw of her blood forced another moan to tumble from her lips. Her whole body pulled taut and teetered on the edge of orgasm from his mouth alone. Natsu’s chest vibrated with a deep groan. He slid his hands onto her backside and dragged her into his lap. His thick arousal pressed against her core. He pulled away from her neck and lapped at the mark. Lucy’s head lulled to the side and her body thrummed in her haze.

Natsu palmed the back of her neck and dragged her lips to his. Their kiss was like lit propane. His taste mixed with the metallic tang of blood that rolled over her tongue. She thrust against his length, determined to relieve the ache. The clothes felt too heavy, too imposing, against her skin. As if to answer her thought, he pulled her shirt over her head and unclasped her bra. The air was cool across her heated skin. He took her lips again and trailed kisses from her jaw to her breasts. Lucy slid her fingers through his hair when he took possession of her sensitive nipple. He rolled the peak between his deft fingertips, and his eyes never left her as he swept his tongue over the breadth of the other.

The loud buzz of her phone cut off the curse that rolled off her tongue. She groaned when he squeezed her breast in his hand and sucked harder on her skin. The phone stopped and then started again. This time, her groan was because of the sound.

“Sounds urgent,” he said against her nipple, “you can answer it.”

“I can’t.” Her voice came out as more of a whimper than she liked.

Just tell them you’re busy and hang up. His hand that cupped her ass tugged her against him. She’d give anything to take the rest of her clothes off. The phone continued its demand for her attention. Better answer it if they want to talk to you that bad.

You just want me on the phone while you do this. She made sure that her voice came out snarky in her mind.

I wouldn’t say that. But it’s going to keep ringing. He grinned and released her nipple from his mouth with a wet suck. His dark eyes flickered up to her as he lapped at the flushed skin. Her phone started up again.

“Fine.” Lucy leaned back to reach for her bag. Her arm dug around for the damn phone. She wrapped her hand around it like treasure and answered.

“Lucy! What is going on? Did your hot neighbor leave?” Levy spoke loudly to the receiver. Her voice slurred slightly, and other voices mingled in behind her. A bar maybe?

“No and I have to go.” Lucy worked to keep her voice steady.

“He’s there with you? Did he get you free rent or something?” she asked. Natsu took that moment to sink his fangs into the supple skin of her breast.

“Yes.” She bit her lip to keep from crying out in Levy’s ear.

“What? What does he get in return? Surely, they wouldn’t let you get away with a whole month for free.” Levy was clever. Lucy feared that her intelligent friend, even tipsy could hear what the man in her arms did to her.

You taste amazing. Natsu groaned low against her skin.

“I really have to go.”

“Are you alright? You sound out of breath,” Levy said. Lucy had a few choice words for Natsu, but her brain had barely processed her phone conversation, her telepathic one was out of the question.

“Just ran to the store. I’ll call you after, I promise.”

“After what?”

“Come on, Shrimp. You’ve had too much and it’s time to go.” Levy’s boyfriend’s voice sounded further away. If it weren’t for her predicament, Lucy would thank Gajeel.

“Talk to you later!” Lucy hung up the phone, tossed it on the couch, and let out a long moan. “Why did you have to bite me while I was on the phone?” she asked. Natsu gave another hard suck and groaned against her breast. Her pleasure sent stars across her vision. No matter how good she felt, or how close to the precipice she was, her orgasm didn’t come. Something about the bite itself could not bring her over the edge. He laid her back against the floor and pulled back. A bead of blood traveled down the side of her breast, and he followed it with his tongue before he licked the bite.

They fumbled to get the rest of their clothes off. His erection sprung free, and precum shone from the head of his shaft. In Lucy’s haze, she looked her fill, unabashed by her greedy gaze. Natsu did the same and languidly stroked himself at the sight of her.

Where have you been all my life? Did he even know she could still hear him? Natsu lifted her legs over his shoulders and clutched her thighs, lowering himself to the floor. His warm breath stroked her core.

Please. Her sex glistened with how wet she’d become.

Someone else liked the phone call too. His voice and soft chuckle bounced around her head. Natsu trailed his lips along her inner thigh toward her center. She wiggled with impatience. His deep green eyes flicked up to her. Looks like you loved it. He reached one hand over and ran his thumb up and down her damp slit. Her legs shook as he skimmed the pale skin of her thigh with his teeth. When he bit down, he pushed past her folds with his thumb and slid himself deep into her. Her moan was so loud that she was sure that the little old lady next door heard.

Lucy grabbed a fist full of his cherry hair and tugged. The growl of pleasure shook against her thigh. He pulled his thumb out of her and rubbed her aching clit with her own slick heat. Lucy writhed beneath him. He sucked hard and plunged two fingers past her soaked lips. This time, she felt her pulse race with her impending climax. The harmony of their heavy breaths and the slick sound of his digits moving in and out of her filled the room.

Can’t get enough of you. His voice was velvet and through their mental connection alone, he made her feel as though his hands pulled her hardened nipples. A curse left her lips in surprise. He pulled his fingers out of her and began to vigorously stroke her sensitive bud. The friction mounted enough to make her eyes roll back. With one last suck, she found rapture in her release. No man had ever made her cum so hard in her life.

Natsu slowed his pace and pulled away from his bite. He lapped at the skin there and moved her legs from his shoulders. The absence of him made her skin feel cold, and her sex tightened without him inside her. With the slickness of his hand, he stroked his length. A low hiss escaped him as he did. She could only imagine the discomfort he felt then. Even so, she found the look of his hand wrapped around his shaft, the definition of muscle across his arms, and the aching way he gazed at her body sexy as hell.

Lucy attempted to sit up, but dizziness made her fall back. Natsu stilled and leaned over her.

“Are you dizzy? I’m sorry, I may have taken too much from you.” He pressed his palms on either side of her and leaned in to take her lips.

“I’m fine,” she said into his mouth. His tongue moved over hers as though he’d never taste her again.

“Can I?” Natsu clutched his thick erection and poised himself over her damp curls.

“Yes.” Lucy squirmed beneath him with need. He grinned down at her and spread her lips with the head of his cock.

Hold tight. He steadily sheathed himself into her. She arched against him, and her legs spread wider. He cursed as he plunged himself inch by inch. Her walls stretched deliciously to accommodate him; the feeling so exquisite that her legs shook. He clutched her thighs, sat up, and peered down at the way their bodies met. You wanna try something? She barely registered his husky voice in her head.

Try what? Lucy had no clue what he wanted to try, but she knew she’d say yes.

Remember how I touched you telepathically before? He took a long breath out. Her walls gripped his length as he slowly moved out of her. Both groaned with the sensation.

“I remember,” she said.

“I’ve never had a connection like this before,” he admitted, “Concentrate on that link, the way you do when we talk.” At first, she felt skeptical. Part of her didn’t care about anything but the pleasure, but she obliged him. Their eyes locked as he thrust deep inside her. Lucy grabbed his arms like an anchor. Instead of pulling out, he rotated his hips so that he could stroke her clit.

This is the best sex I’ve ever had. She hadn’t meant to “send” that thought, but from the wide grin on his face, she knew it was too late to take it back. Their connection felt like a line between them, only stronger as they came together. She held onto that line. Then she felt it. Her eyes widened and her breath quickened. Natsu thrust into her at an easy rhythm all the while she felt his teeth gently tug on her nipples, even with his mouth far from her. How? The mounting feeling in the pit of her stomach started again. Her mouth hung open with cries that never came.

He bit his lip as he surged forward. He moved his hand to her ass and pulled her hips higher. The angle was her catalyst. The head of his shaft grazed a soft spot inside her with each thrust. Lucy came undone in his hands.

Yeah, just like that. A small trickle of blood rolled down his chin from his teeth clenched against his flushed lip. Her orgasm ripped through her. Could he feel it? She concentrated on the way they spoke to each other, that thread pulled taut. Natsu’s moans mingled with hers and he screwed his eyes shut. Is that your— Fuck, Lucy. Is that yours? The waves of her orgasm ebbed, and her mind reeled.

Maybe. Served him right for using whatever this was on her first.

I guess I have to return the favor. He pulled out and flipped her onto her stomach. She made a sound of protest but quieted when he lifted her hips up for his cock to slide back into her from behind. Lucy gasped at the movement. But it wasn’t until his orgasm reached her through their connection that she knew what he meant by “return the favor”. A litany of curses tumbled from her mouth. So much for a good repour with her neighbors. His climax ripped through her so hard that she thrust in the air around his dick that rocked into her. He moaned her name like a prayer. Their essence ran down her leg as she reached down to stroke herself as he came.

When their movements became languid and her muscles ached, he pulled out of her. They lay on the floor out of breath.

You said you’ve never had a connection like that before? Her exhaustion made it easier to ask in her head.

“You’re the first psychic I’ve met.”

So, you’ve never done that mind thing with another woman before?

“Never. This was the best sex I’ve ever had.” He turned his head to meet her eyes. Didn’t know it could be that good.

“Neither did I,” she said.

“We’ll need to work on this connection thing.”

“Why?” She sat up slowly. Natsu followed her movements and held out a hand in case she fell back again.

“We keep reading thoughts that we don’t mean to send. Are you dizzy?” he asked.

“Not as bad,” she said. Natsu stood and took to her little refrigerator. It was bizarre to see a hot naked man casually in her fridge.

“Ah, ha.” He pulled out a bottle of juice and came back with it. “Drink this. You should probably eat something too. I’m sorry about that.”

“Got a little carried away?” She popped the top off the drink. He messed with the back of his hair and didn’t meet her eyes.

“It seems like it.”

The two of them cleaned up and dressed. Natsu waited until she finished the rest of her juice before he offered to grab her food. She told him she had leftovers, and he didn’t have to worry about it.

“Can I ask a question?” she asked later as she walked him to the door.

“Sure.”

“Why are there no marks?” She noticed in the bathroom that none of his bite marks had stuck around. Another reminder that he wasn’t human.

“Why? Want them to show?” He wagged his eyebrows at her suggestively. She playfully swatted at him. His ability to bypass awkwardness with mischief was amazing to her. Nothing appeared to faze him. Who was this man?

“No, I was just wondering if that was why you, you know, licked them.”

“Yeah, that helps them heal as fast as I do.” Natsu leaned against the closed door with his arms crossed over his chest. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?”

“I’ll be fine. I appreciate it,” she said. Natsu nodded and opened the door to reveal Levy on the other side. Her fist raised to knock. “Oh, looks like you have a visitor, Lucy.” Natsu extended his hand. “Nice to meet you. Levy, right?” he asked. Levy nodded with her mouth slightly open. “Well, this was nice. Same time next month, Lucy?” At that moment, Lucy wanted to kick his ass. She’d save it for next month.

The weeks passed quickly. Without rent looming over her head, she found a pep in her step. It didn’t hurt that she had great sex. Yet, she debated another meeting with Natsu. They’d seen each other in passing. One time she caught him in the hall, to which he whispered in her mind. Looking good, Lucy.

Her body craved him and his bite. She found that she’d pleasure herself more with thoughts of him. Occasionally she’d bite her own arm as she did so. She never broke her skin, and it never felt the same.

The day had come, and Lucy stood in front of apartment 101. Instead of knocking on the door, she focused on that connection, that thread they shared, and sent filthy images of everything she’d fantasized about. The door pulled open and Natsu’s dark eyes met hers. He had nothing on but a towel over his waist and droplets of water rolled down his body from a shower.

Looks like rent is due.

#nalu #fairy tail #nalu fan fiction #fairy tail fan fiction #ft fan fiction #looks like rent is due

39 notes · View notes

londonhalcyon · 8 months ago

Text

Writing has not been happening the past few weeks (the non-academic kind at least), so here’s an unedited snippet of Chapter 42 to tide you guys over. Enjoy the little sneak peek.

* * * *

On the afternoon of the 27th, Penny came with me to prep the thestrals. I hadn’t asked her to. She had volunteered, even after I had told her how long the flight would be. Each further attempt to deter her earned me a glare, but I still had to try one last time as we walked into the forest.

“We don’t both have to fly,” I said. “I can have Tenebrous follow me. We can meet you and Kingsley there.”

“It’ll be faster if I take him,” Penny said tersely.

“By a few minutes, maybe. It’s a two-hour flight, bareback. It’s not going to be fun.”

“I want to help. But since it’s obvious you don’t want me there—”

“I never said that.”

“Then stop arguing with me. I’m coming with you. That’s final.”

“I just don’t want you to put yourself under any unnecessary stress,” I said. She was afraid of heights for Merlin’s sake.

Penny tapped a finger to her chin. “Hmm, where have I heard that before?”

I rolled my eyes. “Point taken.”

We stopped a few meters into the trees, near where I had first taken the trio hunting for potion ingredients. A flat, grassy field stretched out at our backs. The perfect takeoff point.

Bringing my fingers to my lips, I gave a loud three-note whistle. The bushes rustled, and Nyx promptly trotted out of the shadows, her identifying scar visible on her flank. A younger male thestral trotted after her. Good, Hagrid had already sent them our way.

I levitated two dead birds out of my bag, which I flicked towards them. Each thestral caught the offering in its beak-like mouth with a disturbing crunch.

“Are you afraid I’ll freeze?” Penny asked. “When it matters, I mean.”

“I watched you stare down a werewolf last year,” I said. “You know it’s not that. I’m going to worry no matter what.”

“Tough luck, love.” But she said it with a smile.

I gave an exaggerated sigh. “I know.”

She lightly elbowed me. “Do we have everything we need?”

“I think so. Here, one second…”

I handed her half the gear in my bag: gloves, flight goggles, and a full face balaclava. No hoods. Certain things like “peripheral vision” and “not being mistaken for a Death Eater” seemed important.

I donned the same items myself, pulling the balaclava over my head until only my eyes and the bridge of my nose were exposed—then only the bridge of my nose after I added the goggles. We looked like we were on our way to rob a store, but anonymity was key. Plus, it was going to be frigid and dry in the air at that altitude, and I had no interest in going blind if my contacts dried out in the next two hours.

Penny held out her arms. “How do I look?”

Unrecognizable, if I hadn’t been close enough to see her eyes through her goggles. With her face covered and her hair completely tucked away, it would be impossible to tell who she was at a distance.

“Gray,” I said.

“How boring.”

“Like a shadow,” I amended.

“Better.”

We wore dark gray dueling robes, which were form-fitting enough that they wouldn’t get in the way, but just fluttery enough to make a more difficult target. The idea was that, in moments when there was at least a little light, the gray would blend in with the shadows better than pitch black. That was perhaps the paranoia talking by this point, especially when we had Disillusionment Charms at our disposal, but overkill was better than the alternative.

It would be fine. With luck, everything would go according to plan, and we wouldn’t even have to fight. The Death Eaters wouldn’t realize we had moved the date until it was too late, and by then, everyone would already be safe at the Burrow.

I tangled my hands in Nyx’s mane to hold them steady. I ignored the distant roaring in my ears. “Ready?”

Penny grabbed hold of Tenebrous. “Mind giving me a leg up?”

I gave her a boost. In the next minute, we were both on our thestrals, ready at the edge of the field.

#the mad witch #lilianna flores #penny haywood

9 notes · View notes

the-dalseum-duet · 2 months ago

Text

…so no head?

oh my god. Ohhh my god. I AM THINKING ABOUT THEM

is this canon? no. not right now. I think I might be able to pull something like this off with Sonnet if I played my cards right but idk. Because at this time, Gale would have “quit to work in the Lovesong district” (read: only working for Sonnet in secret) and Sara would be getting her doctorate. so sonnet is our only option. but. rn. let’s just traumatize Kai a little. shake him around

!!cw for themes of suicide and potentially unnerving sexual language!!

obligatory “I’ll regret tagging you in this once I turn 18 but I only have so much longer to write stupid shit” tag: @svwhssftr

Kai’s dress shoes rhythmically rapped against the slick floor as the sun lowered above him. The Palace halls were so, so empty. The once bustling festivities of The Moonlight Festival had braked to a screeching halt. Whether it was the murder of a Council official in broad daylight or the imminent crowning of The Empress, Kai wasn’t sure.

His forearm shook as he shifted his weight into the armory’s door. He knew exactly where to find Noeul.

“What the hell are you doing?” Kai snapped. “Sonnet sent my ass up here to find you. I was planning on watching the coronation safely from my own home, but no! Your selfish-“

Kai’s voice trailed off as his eyes widened. Noeul finished polishing the gun in his hands before aiming it at his own throat.

“I’m not coming back from this, Shirogane,” he whispered, precisely painted fingers trembling.

Kai wasn’t one for comforting. In reality, he agreed that Dalseum probably would be better if Noeul offed himself. But Marie wouldn’t make it if he did. The scared little girl who boldly told him to ‘fuck off’ couldn’t survive yet another blow to her psyche.

“Your daughter is waiting for you,” Kai said. “She looks beautiful. If you see one last thing, it really should be her.”

“Marie doesn’t know what’s happening,” Noeul hummed, his voice tinged with tears. “Marie just knows she’s our puppet, and she’ll play that role no matter what happens. Maybe Crow was justified, just up and fucking over our entire family like that. We’re all a train wreck, Kai, and I caused it.”

“Took you long enough to realize,” Kai said under his breath.

“Where’s Porter? Isn’t he supposed to be helping her?” he asked, slowly lowering the gun.

“Porter’s dead,” Kai said, clearing his throat.

“He’s what?”

“Blaire sliced off his head in the middle of the Lovesong square. She’s heading towards The Palace, and I don’t think she’s coming for the coronation.”

“Oh. Well, that’s okay,” Noeul said, his face static. “Sonnet knows what they’re doing.”

“Adam and Crow are with her. If one goes down, then they all go down.”

“Three birds with one stone,” Noeul half-joked, tucking his pistol into his ostentatious coat.

“There we go,” Kai awkwardly clapped. “The cameras are all set. I’ll make sure all of The Palace doors and windows are locked. God, could you imagine that? Those low-lives crashing the coronation?”

“If they do, I’ll take care of them.”

“Are you sober enough to aim?”

“No,” Noeul scoffed. “I’ll kill ‘em, anyway.”

“You’re a classy man, Sang.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Oh, shit!” Kai exclaimed, peering out the window. “What do you bet that’s them?”

Kai pointed at three fuzzy figures on the outskirts of The Cocktail Quarters. With everyone else preparing for the coronation, they were the only thing that possibly could have been moving.

“Good luck, Blaire.” Noeul sarcastically pressed his lips against his fingers and blew a kiss through the window.

“Chea’s probably stressed out of their mind.”

“They don’t have enough of a mind to possibly stress,” Noeul said, rolling his eyes.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Sonnet was always my second choice. It was never paradise.”

“And which choice was I?”

“I was never going to marry you. Really, I can’t stand you.”

“Glad to know the feeling is mutual.” Kai nodded as he readjusted his scarf.

“I can’t wait for this to be over,” Noeul sighed.

“The whole Blackbird mess?”

“It’s going to end one way or another. No matter what, I’m killing myself after this.”

“Even if you take back the Blackbirds?”

“I might fuck Blaire one last time before I go. Just to watch her realize that, in the end, none of us are going to win.”

“Ugh, really? She’s got all these stretch marks and saggy tits now. She’s not the Blaire you knocked up.”

“Doesn’t matter. Her pussy’s the same.”

“Whatever you say. Shit, can I join you?”

“Since when were you interested in women?”

“I’m not interested in fucking her, but watching her reaction would be funny.”

“God, don’t even mention it. I can’t be visibly hard for my daughter’s coronation.”

“You’re going to kill yourself right after, so why does it matter?”

“I want to go with some dignity left.”

Noeul took a deep breath as they approached the ballroom’s entrance.

“This is it,” he whispered, his hands still shaking.

“Shoot a fag point-blank and fuck a bitch up for me before you blow your own brains out, alright?”

“That’s the plan.”

“I’ll almost miss being your side piece.” Kai leaned to kiss Noeul’s neck, sinking his teeth into his flesh to mark him.

“Damn it,” Noeul seethed, swatting Kai away. “I’d say I’ll miss you, but I don’t want my last words to be lies.”

“It would only be appropriate.” Kai shrugged as he patted Noeul’s back.

“I’ll see you on the other side, Shirogane.”

“Godspeed, Sang.”

Kai somberly nodded as the ballroom doors creaked shut. Kai bit his bottom lip as Marie eagerly hugged him and excitedly showed him her coronation hanbok and all the bells and whistles attached. Noeul’s death would break the poor girl. Hell, she’d probably feel like it was her fault.

As Kai turned to leave the palace, the caught a glimpse of puffy black hair and the blade of an axe out of the corner of his eye.

The Blackbirds had arrived.

He made direct eye contact with Crow, and the poor boy’s eyes swelled as big as his hair. He mouthed something to an unknown figure below him, but Kai grinned at him as he unlatched the window.

“Welcome to the coronation!” Kai winked as he waved Crow inside.

“What the fuck?” Crow laughed. “Do you think we’re that stupid?”

“I’m not armed. I’m serious.” Kai raised his arms and turned around. “I have no reason not to let you inside.”

“Don’t trust him, Crow,” Adam snapped, pulling him under beneath the ledge of the window.

“Is that you, Belle?” Kai cackled. “Man, it’s been a minute! How’s that navel piercing healing?”

“Go to hell, Kai,” Adam replied.

“Well, I surely won’t be the only one.” Kai calmly slinked out of the window and left it open. He saluted the Blackbirds before he started on the short trail back to his townhouse in The Cocktail Quarters.

“The cameras are rolling. Give them a hell of a show, Sang.”

#this is kinda messy and rushed but oh well #TW suicide #tw sa implied #tw men #(that last one was a joke)#prose #blackbirds excerpt #non canon #divider by cafekitsune #bb noeul sang #kai doesn’t even have a tag lmao #fuck him ig #no beta we die like noeul #note: I promise I’m doing ok rn!! Just a lot of things settling in very fast #But it’s a good scary! Killing myself is the last thing I want to do rn

3 notes · View notes

peace-coast-island · 3 months ago

Text

Diary of a Junebug

Scattering colorful petals around the Wild Flora Express for good luck

In Cotton Poppy Loch, it’s a custom to scatter a bouquet of petals around the Wild Flora train station to bring good luck. There’s always a gentle breeze blowing to the east towards the lake where the scattered petals eventually land. Watching the colorful petals fluttering in the sky before coming to a gentle landing in the water, there’s just something so peaceful about it. I don’t know, it’s kinda like telling me that the world may be chaotic and life may be giving you a hard time, but rest assured, like many moments in life, it will pass. And eventually, the dust will settle, and life will go on, just as it always does. Even though it’s obvious, sometimes we just really need to hear that just to be sure.

Unlike its neighboring city, Cotton Poppy Loach is relatively peaceful for the most part. The lake is right between two big cities, which are connected to other areas, and the only way to get across is through the Wild Flora Express, and so it is a major travel route. If something big happens around the area, there’s no doubt you’d hear about it here because word travels fast. Not only that, but if you know who and what to ask, you can even get some valuable intel on information that’s not even out to the public and only known to a select few. I know a couple people who could definitely pull something like that off - not me, obviously!

We came here just for a short vacation - the usual travels outside the camp to broaden our horizons and just appreciate the world and how vast it is - when we ran into the Epiphany crew. They’ve been dealing with an ongoing crisis in a planet called Gradient Ivory, which is about 50% resolved according to Landry, but right now there really isn’t anything they can do because they’re waiting on someone who seems to be taking their sweet time despite the situation. Well, it’s out of everyone’s hands, so the commander told the Epiphany that there’s no use in them sitting around and waiting, insisting that they take a break and that she’ll notify them the second that something comes up. Yang doesn’t have a solid confirmation on the identity of who that other person they’re waiting on, but if his speculations are spot on, then it’ll be a bit of a long wait.

As for whether or not that’s a good thing, no one knows. Sometimes all you can do is play it by ear and hope that everything somehow works out. Something about a broken clock being right twice a day. Or a man who sleeps with a machete is a fool every night but one. Kinda concerning that they’re putting everything on this one person who may or may not be able to help, but I trust their process. Sometimes you just have to see how things play out before making your next move. Otherwise, a wild card pops up and changes the whole board, so if you’re in the middle of something, too bad, you just wasted your time, better have another plan ready because things are quickly going south.

In the meantime, the Epiphany’s just gonna hang out here, mainly just to chill. Of course, they have their reasons for choosing Cotton Poppy Loach, which has to do with an acquaintance of Yang’s who is seeking refuge over there. That person is actually a noble, but to the general public he’s some eccentric mage known as Des. His family hails from the Kingdom of Cevilia, which is located to the north of Cotton Poppy - a two and a half hour ride on the Gold Route of the Wild Flora. He wasn’t personally involved in the incident that took place not too long ago, but his siblings and niece were.

The incident at the Cevilia Castle is one of those classified things that has been swept under the rug by authorities - or, at least that’s what they hoped would happen. Cotton Poppy is basically a hub for stuff like this as it’s considered a neutral zone for those trying to flee, as well as the best place to find out what really happened - that is, if you know how to seek out the right information without putting yourself and others in danger. Even though it looks relatively peaceful for the most part - which it is - there’s a lot going on behind the scenes.

In a way, the people here kinda serve to bring the truth to light and maintain stability, which makes sense because it’s kinda in the center of everything, especially the Wild Flora. If something happens, like political instability, then everyone’s basically fucked since a lot of places can only be accessible through the Wild Flora. There’s actually a contract that states that Cotton Poppy Loach will always be a neutral zone that’s accessible for all and that those who violate any of those terms will be severely punished because, like I said, the consequences would be disastrous.

As far as we know, no one has ever gone against that contract - I mean, you’d have to be really stupid enough to want to do something that actively ruins everyone’s lives and potentially lead to political strife. Then again, there’s (hopefully) very few people who actively want to see the world burn just so they can profit off it. Cotton Poppy Loch has its share of those kinds of people throughout history, and their attempts fail because they underestimated the relationships between Cotton Poppy and its neighboring cities. Their secret weapon? Effective and open communication.

Only a select few know Des’s true identity, including Yang and Hongxia. Des also happens to be a distant relative of Hongxia’s sister-in-law Liangli, whose family is from Cevilia. He actually met Hongxia over 20 years ago when he was passing by Qiangshou, long before Liangli was sent to the Senlin Pavilion to accompany her father and later marry the Tianlin. Obviously Hongxia didn’t recognize Des, though he noticed a bit of a resemblance between him and Liangli, who is said to look more Cevilian than Qiangshouian.

On a similar note, Des noted that Hongxia looks a lot like his brother, minus the Tianlin’s most distinguishing feature, which really is unusual. Hongxia says a lot of people claim to have met the Tianlin, so he has a quick way of verifying that by asking what he looks like. Basically, it’s not something you can miss because it will catch your eye the moment you look at the Tianlin. It’s the fact that he has a qilin horn on the left - a defining feature of his family that Hongxia also has. Yes, that’s right, one qilin horn, unlike Hongxia, who has two like most qilin would. On the right is a xieshi horn - a chipped one. Yeah, that’s not something you see every day.

So basically, the Tianlin family are qilin, like most of the noble families from the pavilion. Then came Lady Qiangwei, their mother, who is part xiezhi, so she and the Tianlin have that horn. Apparently, the current Tianlin’s appearance caused quite a stir in the pavilion as some saw it as a blessing, while others saw it as an abomination. The reason why his xiezhi is chipped is because his grandfather, his predecessor, tried to cut it off. Now the Tianlin shows off his chipped horn as a source of pride.

I’ve heard a lot of not so good things about the former Tianlin, mainly that he was a decent politician but a cold and arrogant person. His son, who never inherited the title, was another story - as in, he was and always will be remembered as a pedophile who hid behind his father. Lady Qiangwei was his second victim, the first being the daughter of a physician who gave birth to a daughter the family never fully acknowledged - something that Hongxia and his brother only found out a couple years ago. The first time, they brushed it under the rug, which was pointless because everyone already knew what really happened. They tried to cover it up again with Lady Qiangwei, except her family was of a higher ranking, and then she happened to give birth to a son, so the former Tianlin married his son off to her now that he had a successor.

I was aware that Hongxia had a dysfunctional family, but now after learning about how fucked up the previous generations were, it’s a damn miracle that he and his brother turned out to be decent people. Meiying and Yang credit Lady Qiangwei for protecting her sons from them. By the time Hongxia was born, his father had become a hermit while his grandfather was showing signs of senility. They both died within months of each other when he was around 13, and not too long after, a rebellion took place within the pavilion that his mother and brother played a big role in. More on that later as it’s kinda connected to why Des called for Yang.

So, an incident took place in Cevilia Castle, which is why Des is laying low at Cotton Poppy Loch. Although the officials don’t want to admit it, there has been growing dissent between the aristocrats and the common folk that’s been brewing for the past 20 years or so. The current regime had become arrogant and greedy, which is why Des and his siblings chose to distance themselves from the aristocrats to the point that most people are unaware of their true identities. But now, with the current state of things being a fucking mess, he might have to reveal his true self and retire his Des persona for good, something he prefers to avoid as it’ll bring on more trouble for him later on. Politics really is troublesome.

A protest took place at the castle that was led by Des’s adoptive niece Eliandra over a decree the aristocrats put out the week before that would result in an entire village being kicked out of their homes because one of the aristocrats claimed that his family owned the land and so he could do whatever he wanted with it. Seriously, the nerve of some people! Who does that guy think he is, barging into people’s homes and telling them to leave so he could build a mansion over it? And if anyone protested, he’d be like, “Shut up, I have money. I can do whatever the fuck I want.” Ugh, yeah, I can see why this would cause an uproar because it’s fucking wrong.

Although Eliandra is officially Des’s niece by blood, she was actually born to a commoner family in a nearby village. She was born with an incurable disease and wasn’t expected to live past the age of 8. However, medical science broke through when she was 7, buying her time she never thought she would have, and she became part of an experimental treatment regime conducted by a bunch of scientists, including Des’s brother Felicio. Their sister Graciele, who was a baby at the time, was also a patient. The treatments later proved to be effective in suppressing the illness, allowing Eliandra and Graciele to grow up and experience less debilitating symptoms. However, there’s no telling what will change in the long term as it’s been only about a decade, but for Graciele, who started treatments at a very young age, she has been doing well for the most part. It’s not a cure, but at least it’s likely she’ll live into adulthood without being completely incapacitated.

Around the same time Eliandra started her treatment regime, she was training to be a priestess at the castle, so she became a regular over there. Des said she was a feisty young thing, a precocious girl full of wisdom beyond her years, yet she was no pushover. She was the kind of person who wouldn’t hesitate to call out on anyone’s bullshit, which was why she immediately butted heads with Des’s uncle, a former priest who saw the common folk as livestock, being he can control like he was playing God or something.

He initially took an interest in Eliandra at first because of her unusual composition, a side effect of her condition, which meant she had an unusual amount of mana that made her a valuable tool - the biggest concern being whether or not her body could handle it. Of course, he was only interested in using her. Then he found out she was a commoner, the daughter of a guard and an accountant, and he took that an an insult, calling her a fraud and insulting her parents. She lost her temper, which meant losing control of her powers, and he used that as an excuse as to why she would make an incompetent priestess. Then for some reason Eliandra was forced to apologize to him or else her parents could be executed, which is just fucked up.

Des said it could’ve been worse if Felicio hadn’t stepped in, who also clashed with the uncle often. Still, despite Felicio’s efforts, his uncle tried to sabotage Eliandra, only to be outsmarted by her. Eventually, he took things too far by endangering Eliandra and her family by selling her out to some shady organization that planned to use her as a weapon. Des is sure that Eliandra would’ve killed him if he and Felicio hadn’t intervened in time, which would have gotten her executed, even if it was justified.

That whole thing resulted in a huge mess that forced Des to show himself, as well as make a proposition that will save Eliandra from severe punishment, but with a price. She would have to live under a new identity as Des’s niece and grow up as an aristocrat’s daughter. Yang added that it’s not unusual for a noble to adopt someone with a unusual composition like Eliandra and pass them off as their own, often for their own gain and to keep them close. Since those like her typically die young, it’s also not unusual for them to be kept out of the public eye until they reach a certain age, which is sad. At least he allowed her parents to keep an eye on her from a distance and allowed her to talk to them if they ran into each other as long as they don’t act overly familiar.

Years passed and Eliandra adjusted to her new life. Although the uncle was out of the picture, he had a few loyal followers known as Purists who wanted to avenge his execution, including Des’s stepmother, his uncle’s half-sister. That small group was the one behind that decree Eliandra and her friends protested against. And that wasn’t the only problem with them. Eliandra and Felicio also uncovered that they were also planning to seize control of the Wild Flora as well as take over Cotton Poppy Loch, which is a big no-no.

Des blames himself for what happened afterwards. Had he known about his stepmother’s ties to a major weapons manufacturing company, he would’ve stopped told Eliandra to call off the sit-in and come up with another plan. The Purists knew where they’d be protesting and rigged the area with well hidden bombs. They went off, injuring and killing protesters and civilians. Eliandra was unfortunately one of the casualties along with a couple of her closest friends. Felicio managed to save countless lives, but was severely injured in the process and is currently in a coma. Graciele was there too and escaped with minor injuries.

And now here we are. Des is laying low for now while he tries to come up with a plan to retaliate. The Purists are already in hot water, but he suspects that will be the least of their problems. There already has been a divide within the aristocrats, and this incident will likely bring more conflicts to light. Ugh, I feel bad for him. While a part of him wants to take his siblings and make a run for it, he knows that Eliandra will likely kick his ass and call him a stupid coward - because she’s right. After all, he’s part of it too whether he likes it or not, and if he’s serious about setting himself apart from the other aristocrats by showing solidarity with the common folk, he needs to mean it. Words can only take you so far, and unless you don’t get your hands dirty and take action, all you’re offering is empty gestures. Good to know that he’s serious and not just all talk in order to please the masses.

Although the situation in Qiangshou was nowhere as drastic, the divide in the pavilion caused a lot of conflict and upheaval. The former Tianlin wanted to seize control of the pavilion despite the fact that he was clearly unfit to maintain a political position, especially one as powerful as Tianlin. He and his successor, the current Tianlin clashed constantly, and he was becoming threatened by his grandson once he realized that his successor would surpass him. Also, the current Tianlin is a compassionate yet strict leader who actually cares about the common folk, so it’s no wonder why everyone was so eager for him to step up.

Eventually, that led to a confrontation between the Tianlins and a couple of the former’s loyal retainers. The meeting turned out to be an assassination attempt, a feeble last-ditch attempt by the former Tianlin in keeping a hold on the pavilion that was one of his many poorly thought out plans throughout his final months. What exactly happened during that meeting continues to be debated, but one thing was certain, only the current Tianlin, Lady Qiangwei, and his guard walked out of that room.

What happened afterwards was like a domino effect thing with other families rebelling against their predecessors, mainly those who were loyal to the former Tianlin. Hongxia recalled that it was an uncertain time where everything was unstable as people were either leaving or getting kicked out. The scariest thing for him and his family was the fact that they were targets for assassinations for almost an entire year afterwards. He remembers at least 5 attempts against his life being averted, mainly through poisoning. And he doesn’t even want to think about how many near misses his mother and brother had. Like, damn, that’s horrifying, and he was just a kid at the time.

It’s too early to tell as everything’s still a mess, but it’s likely that Cevilia would experience something similar in the aftermath. At least Felicio and Graciele are safe - that was Des’s main priority. He already has a couple plans in mind, but they’ve all reached snags at different points, so he’s reaching out for help, specifically towards those who have some experience in that sort of thing. Yang’s gotten involved in political messes, so he has a lot to say on that. While Hongxia wasn’t personally involved in the Qiangshou affairs, Des said his insight is just as valuable since he lived through it, which gives him some much needed perspective as whatever happens next will have an effect on those who aren’t involved, namely the common folk, so if possible, he hopes to avoid causing too much disruption for them.

Well, that was a lot to take in, but that’s kind of the nature of a place like Cotton Poppy Loch. There’s often a lot going on in the background that may or may not impact your life in some way. The people here worked hard to maintain the peace, and it really shows. Des said the Wild Flora is the heart of the lake, like the circulatory system. Without the heart, the body would cease to function, which is why he can’t let the Purists achieve their final goal of getting their hands on the Wild Flora.

After learning about all that, I see why scattering petals for good luck is a big deal. It’s because of what the Wild Flora stands for - hope, peace, and stability. Things that can often be too easily taken for granted.

Read on AO3

#animal crossing pocket camp #animal crossing #diary of a junebug #headcanon ramble

2 notes · View notes

emotionally-anxious-spybots · 1 year ago

Text

[arthur found itself dreading sleep mode. but it was told that it had to do this for its mental and physical health, so it braced itself for another nightmare and went into sleep mode.]

[spybot found itself kneeling in front of grey mann, fingers laced as though it was praying to a god]

[it hated this. it hated this with every fiber of its being.]

[grey mann held a remote control. it would only be able to move when he said so, only be able to do what he wanted]

"go on then," he spoke, his smug victoriousness practically tangible "go kill everyone you ever cared about, and then come back to me. i have something special planned for you."

[and so, spybot got up, and it did as it was told, despite everything in it screaming not to, to deck the old man in the jaw and run away.]

[the first place it was forced to go was soldiers room. it found itself cloaked and crawling in through an open window]

[it hoped grey was going for a simple backstab, but no. spybot drove the knife into soldiers arm, forcing it to decloak]

[soldier turned around as spybot pulled the knife out. betrayal flashed across his face, before quickly turning into anger]

"you traitor!"

[all spybot wanted was to say it didnt want to do this, to tell him to kill it because it was being forced to buckle under greys will. but it stayed silent.]

[soldier, unarmed, threw a punch, which spybot dodged with suprising grace given that it was being puppeted by someone who had presumably never done this before]

"i knew you would do this, you commiebot freak!"

[soldier kicked spybot in the groin to little effect. spybot punched his kneecap, shattering it and leaving soldier limping]

[but this did not discourage soldier. spybot wished it would, wished he would just lay down and die quickly so this was as painless as possible.]

[soldier retrived his shovel and swung it at spybot, who dodged.]

[a second swing. spybot grabbed the shovel and snapped it in half, using its half to swiftly lift soldiers helmet and drive the splintered end into his eye, half-blinding him even as it fell to the floor uselessly]

[soldier was stunned for a second, clawing at his eye. spybot took advantage, driving its knife into the shoulder of his shovel arm and slicing through the muscles that allowed him to control that arm, leaving a bleeding stab wound.]

[soldier was half blind, limping, and effectively down an arm, but he did not give up, lunging at spybot and screaming]

[spybot dodged, allowing soldier to ram into the opposing wall]

[quickly, it kicked soldiers good leg as hard as it could, forcing him to buckle and fall to the ground as the bone shattered.]

[spybot flipped soldier over and recived a punch to the face. it did nothing, but still hurt.]

[so spybot broke the rest of his limbs.]

"you motherfucker."

[soldier said the swear with as much hatred as he could possibly muster, and spybot couldnt blame him. as much as it wished it wasnt doing this, it was killing him, and it was doing it painfully]

[even though his limbs were broken and useless, soldier still struggled. spybot could admire that, in a way.

[spybot used its knife to carve soldiers skin, a thousand bleeding cuts soon dancing across his flesh]

"HEEEEEL-"

[soldier called out for help, a last resort. spybot cut him off, driving its blade into his throat and leaving him to bleed]

[spybot walked until it found a corner where two worlds intersect, the dark sticky feel of janes reality eminating from it]

[it entered, hoping to find itself far, far away from jane, hoping grey would give up on finding him, leaving somebody alive.]

[but no such luck. spybot found itself standing in an open bedroom closet.]

[looking around, jane was clearly visible in the other room through an open door, his back turned to spybot.]

[it didnt want to do this, but it especially didnt want to do this painfully. jane had been through enough.]

[spybot walked into the room with jane, suprising him.]

[jane quickly turned his chair around, pointing a shotgun at the intruder. he lowered the gun when he realized it was just spybot.]

"spybot? how did you get in here?"

[spybot offered no awnser, simply swinging its knife at him]

[the first thing jane did was dodge, rolling backwards]

"you dont have to do this."

[he was trying to reason with spybot. of course he was trying to reason with it]

[it wanted to scream, cry, do anything that would alert jane that it wasnt doing this of its own free will, but its body remained silent]

[the two repeated this process for a while, jane moving around his dodges and trying to reason with spybot.]

[until, eventually, jane raised his shotgun and fired it]

[the shot missed spybot, and it had the feeling that was on purpose. it wished the shot had hit, put an end to this]

"i..i dont want to have to do this."

"you dont have to do this. things will be ok."

[spybot cloaked. it seemed grey was tired of this game]

[jane spun slowly, trying to keep his back away from the spybot]

[he went limp as the knife was driven into his back, just like anyone else]

[spybot guessed that, if he couldnt cause physical pain like the others, the emotional pain was enough for grey.]

[mechanic was next. its body was already stained with blood from its previous two kills.]

[mechanic was sitting in a swivel chair. at the sound of spybots footsteps, he swiveled around, and the first thing spybot saw was the pure fear in his eyes. it wanted to say sorry, give any indication that it didnt want to do this, but nothing came.]

[mechanic was frozen in terror as it grabbed onto his arm and snapped the bone in two, remaining still even as it repeated the process with his other arm and remaining leg.]

[tears began to stream down his cheeks, and spybot stabbed both of his eyes in response. this death would not be painless, either. none of them would be]

[spybot dug its knife into his stomach, not enough to damage anything, but enough to cut the skin open]

[spybot pulled the wound open and began tearing out mechanics organs, mostly haphazardly but making sure to leave the heart and lungs for last. it wanted to throw up.]

[to finish him off, make sure mechanic was completely and utterly dead, it pulled him off the swivel chair, cracked his skull open on the floor, and punched his brain into an unrecognizable pulp]

[spybot wanted to scream. it wanted to cry, and it wanted to throw up. but more than anything, it wanted this to end.]

[but no, there was still one left. otto, its brother. it prayed to whatever god was listening that grey would let this be quick, painless.]

[but of course he didnt.]

[spybot tried to tackle otto, but he dodged out of the way]

"AAH! SPOOKED!"

[spybot wanted to tell him that he should be terrified, should roll for his life. but of course, it remained silent as it swung its blade at otto]

"... WHAT ARE YOU DOING? FRIGHTENED!"

[spybot danced around otto's dodging, slowly but surely leading him to corner himself]

[it was only then otto realized what was going on.]

[he became visibly distraught as spybot kicked his leg out from under him and stomped on it with all his strength, ]

"..... I TRUSTED YOU."

[spybot couldnt bear to see its brother like this, but it had no choice but to continue watching itself kill him.]

[the first thing spybot did was drive its knife into ottos shoulder and pry a panel off, all while otto struggled.]

"I DONT WANT TO DIE!"

[spybot severed the wires connecting its arm to its main body, essentially parylizing it before repeating the process with its other arm]

[otto still writhed, desperately trying to get spybot off of him as it slowly peeled off every plate of his hull, leaving only the faceplate intact]

"PLEASE!"

[his brother was begging for his life, and there was nothing spybot could do as it slowly removed every wire and electronic component from otto's body, leaving only the bare endoskeleton.]

[it tore his still intact head off and began to crush it between its hands] "I STILL L-LOVE YOU..."

[those were the last words out of ottos mouth before he was crushed between spybots hands]

[will broken, spybot returned to grey mann. it hoped it would be dismantled]

[but no, it wasnt so lucky. grey had spybot stand by his side, his personal guard]

[arthur awoke with a start.]

[it lacked the physical equipment to cry, but the wailing and sobbing that came from its mouth sounded for all the world like it]

#emotionally xyz mercs #physically xyz mercs #mentally xyz mercs #spybots nightmares #ooc: btw anyone can reply to these if they want #also spybot won all of these fights not because it thinks it could actually do that but because thats the worse end to the nightmare #also also: goddamn! this is a full sized gorefic!#gore #emotionally anxious spybots

5 notes · View notes