#first two they just got bad communication/avoidance and the last is... just no??? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

allaboutnayeli · 5 months ago

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not over, never over | a.putellas x reader

summary: you and alexia broke up but that doesn't mean everything is over.

author notes: sorry to the blonde british woman fans 💔 alexia won so i had to pull this out. i actually been wanting to write smt for alexia for so long! hope you guys enjoy this 😋

contains: ex!alexia x reader, no toxicity just pure misunderstanding and love in these parts, angst but it's worth it, from lovers to exes to lovers trope, lesbians lesbian-ing, badly translated spanish sorry spanish speaking community 🗣️, inspiration is lyssa & dijonai look at wnba lesbian drama influencing people outside of the league, slow build up.. just vibe

playing let em' know by bryson tiller 🎵

"if that's how you really feel then i'm done!" is the last thing you said to alexia before leaving her apartment. not only her apartment, but the three year long relationship that has been a stable figure in your life since it started. you aren't even sure how the argument that led up to the break-up even started; alexia and you ended up in her apartment after a intense training session. she was irritated, you were irritated. all it took was one wrong move where you complained that there was a lack of warm water after alexia's shower and you two were suddenly spilling out all of the problems going on in-between you two.

how sometimes the spaniard doesn't communicate in the healthiest way, opting to hold everything in until her emotions explode. how you overthink about every little action she does which leads to you misreading the situation and being distant towards her. it was both of yours faults but at the same time no body's fault. everything just happened at the wrong time, on the wrong day, in the wrong moment and the end result is a break-up that neither of you wanted but both of you refuse to take back.

the first few days without alexia feels like pure hell. going into practice and seeing her face everyday is not helping your emotional state. you want to be angry with her but at the same time you feel so apologetic that you can't bring yourself to entirely blame her for the break-up. she may have started the argument, but you continued it and was the one to end it in such a castophic way so you were also apart of the problem.

the other barcelona girls don't notice right away what happened. alexia and you would act friendly with eachother, a little avoidant but friendly. at the end of the day, when you two are on the pitch, feelings need to be pushed aside and football needs to take priority. she's still professional and you are too but there is a sense of distance that even others soon notice.

mapi is the first to say something about it. alexia is over mapi and ingrid's shared apartment, laying on her couch while watching some old euros matches. rewatching the euros from last year before the tournament for this year happens is a tradition mapi and alexia pride themselves on. however, there is a bit of sadness hanging over the usually fun hangout.

"is spain losing again or what? you have hardly smiled since you got here," the tattooed woman says, coming out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn. she makes alexia adjust so that she can also sit down on the couch. the way alexia takes a short moment to reply is already worrying mapi.

"what? no, i.." alexia shakes her head before glancing at her friend. she doesn't know what excuse to use; should she just say she doesn't feel well or say it's a family issue? neither would do, mapi can read alexia like the back of her hand. the only person mapi knows better is ingrid which is expected.

before alexia can say anything else, mapi places her free hand on the older woman's shoulder. a knowing smile on her lips as she looks at alexia. there is of course the constant warmth that mapi brings around with her everywhere, in everything. that warmth makes alexia perk up a little. mapi is her bestfriend; venting to her wouldn't be so bad. it wouldn't be bad at all. mapi is not the type to judge, anyone can see that based off her tattoos alone.

"is it about y/n? the last time i saw you two leave practice together was nearly a week ago and that's a long time for you two," mapi says gently, knowing how alexia sometimes needs coaxing to speak her mind.

it's something about hearing your name and mapi's tone and just being near her bestfriend that makes alexia blurt out, "she broke up with me!"

immediately she quietens down, hopefully none of mapi's neighbors cared about or heard that little outburst.

"i mean.. we had an argument then she left my apartment. she said she's done," the blonde sighs. letting out a small laugh at how mapi shifts to pull her into a hug. she accepts it easily, there's no point of rejecting it when mapi already knows what's wrong.

"it's okay, alexia. well.. it's not okay but you know what i mean," mapi says, "sabes que ella te ama."

"por supuesto que lo sé," alexia pulls away from the embrace. she lets out a tired sigh, leaning back into the couch to match the exhaustion in her mind. she could play practice for hours on end without feeling tired but days without you leaves her feeling aimless. three straight years of having you for herself and now you're gone, in that way at least.

"but still she said she's done. i feel horrible for how quick i was to lash out at her.." alexia continues to tell mapi about what happened. how the littlest thing set her off and she just couldn't stop. the argument wasn't even about the shower, alexia had been pent up with emotions for a long while that day. they all just spilled out the moment a tiny conflict happened. the remorse in the blonde is obvious just by her words, but it's not just her tone or what she says. alexia's whole body looks defeated like when she loses a big game.

it's a sorry sight truly. mapi gives her opinion once alexia is finished. saying, "just sounds like you need to communicate better. i think you can work it out with her. muéstrale que lo que pasó fue un error. uno del que te arrepientes."

alexia glances at mapi before looking at the tv screen across from them. the match is nearly over, with spain still losing. she can't even focus on how her nation's men team is being absolute shit when everytime she closes her eyelids, she sees your face. she sees the hurt expression you had when she snapped at you. the way she could see how you tensed up and immediately got defensive but there was this split second where you just looked so hurt. nobody would have caught that slight expression change before you yelled back, but she did, of course she did. she has spent so much time studying your face and your habits and just you that she could describe you so easily, like there is some textbook out there with your name on it. in a way there is; it's sitting all pretty inside of alexia's head.

if only she wasn't such an asshole, maybe all those things she knew about you wouldn't go to waste.

mapi doesn't try to make alexia speak again. instead she just chews on her popcorn and watches the match on screen. alexia would open back up soon enough, when she felt like it.

everyone else figured out what happened when weeks passed and you two weren't acting like y'all usually do. no obviously affectionate teasing or kisses you two think everyone else doesn't see. mapi of course haven't told anyone except for ingrid who isn't the type to gossip, but coming to the conclusion that you two were broken up was easy to get just from your actions.

walking into the locker room knowing everyone knew was driving your anxiety up a wall. would someone say something about it? or would they just ignore it? there isn't some tension between alexia and you.. at least you don't believe it to be. even though you can hardly look at her for more than five minutes before looking away. she wasn't doing any better. yeah, no tension.

you decide to just act like you were unbothered by the break-up. going into the locker room like any other day and just doing what you usually do; and nothing happens. everyone talks to you like normal. you thought someone would point out what happened but then you realized your teammates, your friends are better than that. all the questioning would probably happen later outside of practice.

everybody could see how affected alexia was even though she tried to hide it. she isn't as good at acting nonchalant as she thinks she is. in reality, the other barcelona girls could tell something was wrong with how distant she's being. keeping to herself more, being one of the first to head for the locker room once practice ended and one of the last to arrive. of course nothing affected her performance on the pitch. like always alexia was a force to be reckoned with.

meanwhile anyone who didn't know you. didn't know how deep the relationship between alexia and you ran would think you didn't care about what happened; the furthest thing from the truth. you just carry the hurt around, keeping it to yourself.

"hola hermosa. ¿cómo estás?" you hear from behind you when going to your car after practice. you turn to see salma. the tall girl smiles at you, quick to come closer and sling her arm over your shoulder. pulling you close as she says, "don't answer that. i already know how you're feeling. how are you handling the breakup is a better question."

one moment you were confused on who was talking to you and the next you are in salma's arms. you blame her long legs for how quick everything happened or maybe it's due to how spaced out you were being.

"how do you know i'm dealing with a break-up is the actual question," you say even though you already knew everyone else figured out what happened.

"c'mon, everyone can tell. we just didn't want to make things awkward at practice but aitana sent me to come check up on you," she smiles at you, "it isn't hard to figure out if anyone looks at you and alexia for more than two minutes. i can see it in your eyes."

was it that obvious? of course it was. you have always been thankful for how good your teammates were at figuring things out but right now you really wished you didn't so you could just deal with this on your own.

"alright, whatever. i'm not handling it well at all. i didn't think i would be single right now.." you let out a long sigh and another sigh when you saw the look of sympathy salma was giving you.

"awe, y/n," salma pulls you into a hug. you happily accept it, you have been needing a hug for a while now since you weren't getting any hugs from alexia anymore. it's a little embarrassing to hug in the middle of the parking lot, but whatever.

"can i come over? you can vent all you want. maybe get tipsy, nobody has to know," she says when she pulls away from the hug after a long moment.

you go silent as you think then you nod, "okay."

and that's how you end up on your couch, way more than a little tipsy (you only had two glasses of wine), crying to salma.

"i just don't get it. why wouldn't she stop me from leaving? why wouldn't she reach out afterwards? i didn't mean what i said!" your words are irrational and you know that but the alcohol in your system is just fueling your thoughts. salma is holding you in her arms. she's unsure if she should just outright tell you that it's obvious alexia wants you back or would it be better to just tell you to reach out instead. she goes with the latter; giving you the truth right now about how alexia is low-key miserable without you doesn't seem like the best option. maybe when you aren't tipsy off some wine.

"why don't you reach out? why didn't you? the break-up sounds so out of the blue, i wouldn't believe it if it wasn't for the fact you and alexia are being all weird around each other," salma says.

"we aren't being weird around eachother."

"alexia scored in our last match and you didn't go to hug her like everyone else. you just gave her a high five before we got back to playing. if this was a few weeks ago, you would have been the first to hug her."

salma's accurate reasoning makes you want to roll your eyes and deny, but it's true. alexia and you are at a weird point. haven't not talked once outside of something football related. no texting either, just pure distance. that night when you left you have hoped she would call or text or even talk to you the next day at practice, but that didn't happen. just silence and distance and a "friendly" demeanor that definitely had something underneath. just because you two didn't talk didn't mean there wasn't still chemistry there.

you shrug, looking up at the taller girl, "i might. just nervous, what if she officially wants to be done and never to look back? i just walked out on her." the anxiety in your mind was building back up; the alcohol was not helping.

"she might be, actually, i know she's hurt but that doesn't mean she wouldn't hear you out. it's you we're talking about here," salma looks down at you. seeing the obvious sadness and regret in your eyes makes her frown. it wasn't like you to be so down, your personality wasn't like that.

the emphasis on know makes you feel a little more confident. if salma is so sure and she's looking from the outside in, no emotions clouding her judgement, then it must be true right? the least you could do was try.

"alright, i'll talk to her. i swear." salma smiles at your words, quick to grab your glass and put a small amount of wine in it.

then she smirks at you, "one last drink? it's celebratory."

the last match of the season was an obvious success, an easy win against valencia. all of the barcelona players decided to go out clubbing to celebrate the end of the season despite the fact you all would be heading to mexico soon enough; that doesn't mean y'all couldn't get a little drunk though.

it has been a solid few days since you had that venting session with salma and still you haven't done what you said. it wasn't your fault really, with the season almost coming to a close, you didn't want to have that conversation and possibly make the locker room a weird environment if alexia didn't take you back. salma (and aitana who salma had reported everything you said back to) were against your thinking. firmly pushing for you to just talk to her and figure everything out.

"the environment in the locker room is already weird because we are used to seeing you guys together," is what aitana said when you told her your reasoning, "ella te quiere de vuelta, todos lo pueden decir."

hearing that from aitana had put more confidence in you than before. it couldn't be a lie if salma and aitana believed it, right?

back to the clubbing, you are getting ready at your apartment. everyone has gone back to their own homes after celebrating in the locker room, so they could freshen up and change. you spend way more time on finding an outfit than you usually do; tonight was the night you planned to talk to alexia. having this long needed conversation when you both were sober and not high off of a good season would be best but everyone needs some liquid courage sometimes to pull through, to get what they want.

it's slowly been getting too long since you two last spoke outside of football, the last time you two interacted on social media, and fans were slowly noticing it.

it wasn't a hard task to spot the tension and lack of celebrating on the pitch in-between you two. you vividly remember going on twitter to so many fanpages wondering what's going on between alexia and you. scrolling past each one made you just want to throw away your rational thinking and text alexia right away, but no. you waited until the season ended so here you are putting on a pink halter top and a short skirt that you knew alexia loved, she bought it after all. when it came to jewelry you put on the necklace she left over at your place.

you haven't gone over to her place to get your things and she hasn't either. you noticed that she kept wearing the gold promise ring you bought her, seeing that made your heart flutter every time. you weren't any different, you still wore your promise ring as well and you have been sleeping in the shirts she left over your place every single night without fail.

you take a short while to finish your makeup, just in time as you hear a car honk outside. already knowing it was aitana, you were planning to get drunk tonight or just a little tipsy so driving your car to the club wasn't an option. you grab your purse, making sure you had your phone, before leaving out of your apartment. smiling as aitana waves at you from her car. she giggles when you get in the passenger seat, smile on your lips.

"ready to get your girl back?" she glances at you.

you gasp before laughing, "we're going to the club to celebrate how amazing we were all season. not for some get her back plot."

"it's okay to tell the truth," aitana gives you a teasing smile before focusing her attention on getting out of your apartment complex parking lot and on the street.

"you have been around mapi way too much."

the club is bustling with people as aitana and you step inside. she pulls you towards where the tables all the other barcelona players are at. immediately your eyes land on alexia, she's sitting at a table with mapi, ingrid, marta, and caro. two couples at the table and it would be three if you were over there, if you two were still together.

she's wearing a red tube top and denim shorts that show off her legs. she looks beautiful like always and you can't, don't, stop your thoughts from wandering.

"we're finally here! y/n was taking forever," aitana smiles as you two stop at the table with ona, lucy, and keira. you spot salma sitting with patri and claudia, all of them already having drinks.

"of course she was. we shouldn't expect less from her," lucy laughs as you scoff. sitting down next to aitana, you lean your body slightly on the table. "i bet ona takes longer," you say.

"what did i do?" everyone at the table laughs at ona offended expression. conversation flows freely between you all. nobody has gotten rowdy just yet, with the team still waiting on frido, jana, and a few others to come to the club. your mind strays away from the fact alexia is at the table next to you as you engage in a heated debate with lucy about who is going to win the euros this year.

"don't act like england is a bad team!" lucy says, looking at keira for back-up. the younger woman rolls her eyes, turning to continue to talk to aitana.

"i never said that but they just aren't beating spain this year," you say back. ona immediately jumps in to defend your point, "she's right. i bet spain is going to crush it this year."

"babe, you're supposed to be on my side."

"i am on your side, just not your country's side."

ona and lucy's little back and forth is cut short as everybody else arrives. now it's really time to let loose and party. aitana immediately sends you to the bar to get everyone at the table drinks, you pass by patri and claudia who got up to dance the moment everyone was here. you know a few of your other teammates are dancing right now; frido didn't even sit down before going to the dance floor.

when you left for the bar, you didn't notice the mischievous smile on aitana's lips or how she looked over at mapi who had a mischievous look in her eye. you also didn't notice how alexia wasn't at her table anymore either.

you reach the bar, leaning against it as you wait for the bartender to come over since he's busy with someone else right now. when you look to your right, you have to do a double take because it's a pretty blonde with a red tube top and denim shorts on right next to you; alexia.

she's acting like she doesn't notice that you are right next to her but she could spot you from a mile away. should she say something? her internal monologue was basically full of just "duh of course" and "what if she doesn't even want to talk to you"

both are annoying the shit out of her, so when the bottle of tequila comes she opens it. pouring herself a shot and downs it right away.

"you're eager, huh?" you want to slap your hand over your lips. you weren't planning to speak to her just yet, later on when you had some type of alcohol in your system was the plan.

alexia glances at you. a mix of uncertainty and fondness in her eyes.

she chuckles, "yeah. why don't you get some drinks so you can join me? you did so well during the season.. you deserve it."

the praise makes you feel all warm. way too warm in a club packed with people. you feel hesitant, nervous, unsure of how this would continue. would you two actually talk about what happened or just act like it didn't happen the entire night?

"you did well too," you say before turning to call for the bartender. after you order the drinks, you look over to the spot next to you where alexia was and find that she's gone. you give a quick glance behind you at the tables where the team was at. she's sitting down next to aitana now, half of her table was gone as mapi and ingrid are up somewhere.

"thanks," you say to the bartender. grabbing the drinks before walking back over to your table. alexia smiles at you when you sit down. you smile back.

ona and lucy take their drinks, ona pulling lucy up to go to dance and keira gestures to aitana to get up.

"gracias por las bebidas. ya volvemos, yendo al baño," aitana says, getting up. you give her a weird look; one of pleading for her to stay and not leave you alone with alexia. the blonde gives aitana a weird look of her own.

aitana and keira leave, ignoring you both. you can easily see they aren't even going to the bathroom, but neither alexia and you object.

the table falls into an awkward silence. alexia sips on her drink, this time it isn't a shot but an actual glass. you let your eyes wander before landing on your drink; alexia knows you're trying to avoid her gaze and it's really starting to annoy her. mapi had drilled into her head (it took so many times because alexia is too stubborn for her own good) that you want her back, that y'all are meant to be. the alcohol in her system is really messing with her right now and all she wants to do is to be against you, feeling your warmth.

and you weren't faring much better mentally. you came here to celebrate but to also get alexia back or at least talk about what happened but you can't even muster up the courage to mention it. you have hardly spoken to her.

she's looking at you though, you can feel it.

"i'm going to dance. you should too, bonita," she says before standing up. you don't answer her but you watch her walk away; she can feel your eyes on her.

if this was just a week ago, alexia would be way too nervous to call you that but the alcohol is fueling her confidence and your eyes on her settle any nerves that she had left. however the spanish player was going to let you approach her, so whatever is about to happen can go at your pace; she respects you like that. also she doesn't want to scare you off or piss you off. she just hopes you don't take long because one more drink and she might just take things into her own hands.

you sit at the table, sipping on your drink but you can only watch everybody dance for so long until you get up yourself. remembering how alexia called you bonita makes you finish off your drink, determined to at least try to get her back tonight.

when you go onto the dancefloor you don't go straight for her but decide to dance with salma. somehow she hasn't tired herself out and she happily pulls you close.

"pensé que ibas a estar ocupado hablando con tu novia. ¿cuál es el problema?" she shouts close to your ear, trying to make you hear her over the music. you shake your head, "i'm going to.. i just need more time!"

"bueno, parece que la reina se está impacientando," the tall girl laughs, "she's looking over here at you."

a look of confusion crosses your face before you turn slightly to look behind you and spot her right away. she's dancing with frido but her eyes are focused on you; the spaniard's gaze is intense, calling out to you.

"i'm going to talk to her," you turn to look at salma, "and don't get too drunk, okay? drink some water!" then you move away from her. you barely catch the "okay!" shouted towards you (which you know is a lie) as you make your way off of the dancefloor and towards the bathroom. you need to prepare yourself before approaching alexia.

you step into the bathroom, thankful that it's empty. straight away you go to the sink to look at yourself. what should you say? should you just apologize? you aren't able to go too deep into your pondering as you hear the bathroom door open then close.

"you just keep walking out on me, huh?" the voice of alexia makes you look at the door. there she is, arms crossed across her chest as she looks at you. same intense look from earlier.

"i wouldn't call this instance walking out. i was going to come and talk to you," you say. this isn't how you imagined having a conversation with her, but it's happening so you'll just have to deal with it.

"bueno lo haré. me viste... mirándote y ni siquiera te acercaste a mí," the spaniard walks closer to you and you don't step away, "everyone is telling me that you want me back. are they lying?"

you shake your head, some confidence and a lot of determination flows into your conscience, "people keep telling me that you want me back. are they lying?"

alexia chuckles, "no, of course not. i'm just frustrated. we both came to this club knowing that we want each other but it feels like you are playing games with me."

"games? i'm not. i didn't want to just come over to you and be like be my girlfriend again. i wasn't sure how you felt exactly, just that you wanted me back. i didn't want to rush it," you are quick to say. the words would sound rational to a less drunk version of alexia but all she could think about is that she wished you two talked about this way earlier.

"that's sweet, but i can't wait any longer. i only want one thing."

"what?"

"to be yours."

author notes: this didn't come out like how i expected it to but i don't hate it. hopefully y'all liked it and i wrote alexia okay enough. also this fic is so long, so like cliffhanger or part two?

#alexia putellas x reader #fc barcelona x reader #woso x reader #woso angst #woso fanfics

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jenosbigtoe · 1 year ago

Note

Hey I love ur blog and ur writing. Could u pls make another alpha jeno 🙏🙏🙏 .....no pressure.

mdni. nsfw 18+

pairing: step brother!alpha!lee jeno x reader

warnings: exes to lovers, stepcest (don’t read if you’re uncomfortable), abo, masturbation (f), marking, scenting, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex,

a/n: i felt like a part 2 to the one i already made wouldn’t make any sense so i added a twist… i kinda went crazy um it wasn’t supposed to be this long

when you found out your mom was marrying your first love’s, lee jeno’s, dad, you cried for weeks.

“m-mom, why would you do this to me?” you sobbed, tears rolling down your puffy eyes. “you know what he meant to me.”

“well y/n i’m sure you know what it’s like for an unmated omega to live in this world,” she responded, rubbing your back affectionately. “i love his dad and he loves me. we are getting married. it’s not like you’re even together anymore so it shouldn’t even matter.”

you jerked away from the contact and stomped all the way back to your room to cry even harder in your pillow all night.

you and your mother moved into your new stepdad’s house the next month. it all felt so fast. one day you found out your mother was marrying the father of the love of your life and now you’re moving into his house. how were you supposed to face your now stepbrother who was also your ex? the last time you’ve seen him was at that stupid wedding and it seemed he was barely acknowledging your existence. what went wrong between you two? he was the first alpha you ever fell in love with. the only alpha you’ve ever loved. the only alpha you still love. you wanted to be mates with him forever, have pups and a life together. and now he was your stepbrother.

it was torture, living in that house with him. knowing that being in love with your now stepbrother was oh so wrong. god, his scent was everywhere. his scent that has always driven you mad, making you so needy and wanting his affection. you would catch glimpses of him around the house, causing your omega to go crazy inside. he would be in the kitchen drinking a glass of water as you walked in for a snack. he’d be working out in the home gym right when you’d go to use the treadmill. he’d be on the couch, watching a tv show as you passed by the living room to get to the bathroom. every single time you wanted to snuggle up against his body and bury your face in his chest. you wanted him to give you one of his grins reserved only for you and call you his omega again. but he was only ever cordial to you, just acknowledging your presence every time you walked by but never going past that. nothing more than a small smile and a wave when he saw you, making you so upset and frustrated. you wanted him so bad.

as fresh newlyweds, your mom and stepdad decided it was a perfect time to go on a three month long honeymoon in europe and leave you alone with your stepbrother at the house. you begged and pleaded for your mom to just wait a little longer to let you adjust to the new environment before leaving you alone in that house, but she was set on enjoying her time with her new husband. so you were left with lee jeno, your step brother, or in your eyes, your alpha. your mate. the one that got away.

for the first week, you pouted and locked yourself in your room, refusing to leave except to eat or use the bathroom. and you avoided jeno even more than usual. the entire time you’d been living at that house, you and he left each other alone, only communicating when necessary. but your sudden reclusiveness even had him worried, as he knocked on your door many times during your tantrum. but you refused to answer, knowing that if you saw him you would go crazy.

then you had the perfect idea. why don’t you get revenge on your stupid mother for being so selfish and doing this to you? marrying your first love’s dad, making you live under the same roof as your ex and his father that you’ve known for only 2 months, and leaving you alone with said ex for three whole months? and what better way to exact revenge than to get with her new husband’s son? really in your eyes it was a win-win. you would get revenge on your mom for putting you in this position and you would get back with jeno, whom you’re still so in love with. (really it was just a win-win for you but who cares.)

for the next month, you used everything you knew about jeno to slowly drive him crazy over you. you started by wearing the little outfits you knew he loved seeing on you. the first time he saw you wearing a thin tank that showed off your plush tits with his favorite lacy bra, you didn’t miss how his eyes almost bulged out of his head. but jeno was a gentleman and continued treating you like normal. you would wear the skimpiest loungewear—shorts that hugged your ass and barely covered your panties, camis that would squeeze your tits, sometimes even going without a bra to expose your nipples. while jeno seemed like he didn’t notice the sudden change in your attire, you knew him better than that. you noticed every wandering eye, every stare that was just a second too long, every avoided eye contact. sometimes you would see him adjust his pants ever so slightly so you wouldn’t notice his growing erection. but you always did anyways.

you started initiating real conversations with him, asking him about his day and what he’s up to. you got a lot closer and more comfortable with him, and he with you. it seemed you were starting to become almost friends again, despite the weird exes and step siblings thing.

then you moved on to getting physically closer to him. when he was in the kitchen, you’d brush up behind him, making careful sure to press your tits against his back in attempts to scoot past. or he would be watching a movie on the couch and you’d saunter up in your little outfits saying, “ooh, i love this movie. can i watch?” as you plopped yourself next to him. you would complain about being cold and beg to lay under the blankets with him. you would snuggle yourself flush to his body underneath the covers, rubbing your head against his scent gland and scenting yourself. or even at night, sometimes you would knock on his door with fat tears in your eyes saying, “jen, i can’t sleep again. it’s hard trying to adjust living in this new house.” and jeno is so sweet, he’d welcome you with open arms and let you cuddle him in his bed as you fall asleep with a smirk in your face.

“best step brother ever,” you’d sometimes tell him, not missing how his body would tense up at the title.

it seemed like your plan to seduce jeno back into your arms was working, but not at the speed you wanted. by now, you wanted him jumping your bones and fucking you like animals. he should’ve claimed you as his mate once again. but he was set on being a gentleman, always so respectful of your space despite all the signs you were giving him. you saw the lustfilled stares he’d give you when he thought you weren’t looking. you saw how he’d have to adjust his pants to hide his erection when you brush up against his cock or show off your tits and ass.

so you decided to take a risk, in hopes of speeding up the process. you were tired of being so needy for him, knowing he wanted you just as bad. you needed your alpha, who the fuck cares if he was legally your step brother now? he was your mate first.

you knew jeno’s schedule like the back of your hand at this point. so you knew it would be a good 30 minutes before he’d come home from going to the gym with his buddies. taking this fact into consideration, you carefully snuck into jeno’s room. you loved his room so much. everything about it was so him, every little trinket or poster or piece of decor was a piece of lee jeno. his scent drenched the entire room and hit your nose as soon as you walked in, leaving you a melting puddle of mush. you had loved his scent so much, and it was the strongest in his room. you felt your panties dampen with the smell of his sexy intoxicating scent.

you heart was alight with nerves. slowly, you stripped down to just your bra and panties, leaving your shorts and tank on the side of his bed. it was his favorite set, the white lacy bra and matching white lacy panties with a small pink bow resting above your ass. you laid on his bed, turning your head to inhale deeply into his pillow. you let out a soft sigh of satisfaction.

slowly, you reached your hand down into your panties. you were already wet just from smelling his scent. you let one hand grope your breasts as you started teasing your hole with your fingers, going around the rim before slightly pumping a finger in and taking it back out. you imagine your fingers to be his, teasing and playing with your leaking pussy so good.

but your fingers were too small, you needed more. you added another finger and another finger, trying to pump them in and out of your pussy to hit that sweet spot but you couldn’t. your fingers couldn’t hit deep enough, couldn’t fill up your pussy like you needed. you were growing frustrated, tears pricked your eyes.

you didn’t even notice him at the door, watching your every move with pupils blown and lustfilled eyes.

“now what do we have here, baby?” jeno growled out, taking slow steps towards your needy body.

you whined and bucked your hips against your hand, one hand squeezing your tit and the other fingers deep inside your cunt. “jen..” you whimpered.

jeno walked over to the bed and crawled on top of your body, taking your hands and pinning them above your head in one hand and gripping your chin tightly with the other hand.

“you tease me for weeks, knowing how crazy you drive me. knowing i can’t do jack shit because you’re supposed to be my ex-girlfriend, my step sister. and now i catch you in my own bed, shoving fingers into your cunt?” he whispered lowly into your ears. you shuddered. he sounded pissed. and you loved it.

you rubbed your legs together. “oops,” you feigned innocence. at this point, your pussy was sopping and dripping onto the sheets below.

he spat out a “that’s it” and ripped your underwear clean off. he used your ripped panties to bound your wrists above your head. “don’t fucking move, brat,” he warned, as he stripped off his own clothes. “you’re getting it this time.”

your heart was about to beat out of your chest. this is what you’ve been fantasizing about for weeks. when he pulled out his angry cock, you almost drooled. he was so so big, tip red and drooling, veins running up and down his curved shaft. and his balls were so big and heavy. you wondered how he ever managed tk fit inside your little pussy, but he was your mate. of course he was going to fit.

with one deep thrust, he bottomed out in your tight cunt. you screamed in delight, body squirming and thrashing beneath his powerful thrusts. he used his strength to pin your hips down and prevent you from moving away from his thrusts, thick muscles bulging from effort.

“oh fuck,” you moaned out.

he put your legs up on your shoulders and smacked your ass. “fuck this pussy is just as good as i remember.”

he went impossibly harder and faster with every thrust. lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin and heavy pants and moans filled the room. you struggled against the tie binding your wrists together but jeno growled and held you down tighter.

“fuck, you’re mine now, baby. never leaving you ever again. this pussy is mine. my girl. my omega. my mate,” he panted against your lips, pressing a deep kiss on your mouth.

your pussy gushed and clenched around his hard cock. “alpha,” you whined.

he used his weight to drive even deeper into you, tip kissing your cervix so sweetly. he nuzzled his head against your neck and starting scenting you. “my omega. mine…”

at this point, your mind was turning numb with pleasure. you were in a complete state of bliss. you’d never want anything more than being with your mate, your alpha like this.

“fuck, gonna cum, baby. gonna cum inside this delicious little pussy. everyone’s gonna know you’re mine when you’re round with my pups, when you have my mark on your neck,” he grunted.

you squirmed and bucked your hips up to meet his thrusts. “yes, please, alpha cum inside me! want your pups so bad. want to be your mate forever,” you whined, nuzzling your face into his wild hair.

he gave a few last deep thrusts before bottoming out completely as he came deep inside your dripping pussy. you gave him a sweet kiss as his cock twitched and throbbed deep inside.

he cradled your head and laid his forehead against yours. “y/n, i never stopped loving you. i’m sorry it took this long for me to tell you this but i want you to be mine. i don’t give a fuck about what anyone else will say, what our parents will say. i want you to be my mate forever,” he whispered, staring deep into your eyes.

it felt like he was laying his soul bare to you. tears pricked your eyes, this was all you had ever wanted. “oh, alpha,” you started. he wiped away the stray tears that fell from your eyes. “i missed you so much. i never stopped loving you. nothing will stop me from loving you. i want to be your mate forever.”

he leaned his head down to prod at the flesh of your neck, grazing your skin slightly with his teeth. you shivered and nodded your head, giving him permission to go further.

he left a deep mark on your neck, biting just hard enough to break skin and seal his bond on you. “baby, you’re mine now. no going back ever again.”

#nct dream smut #nct smut #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct dream #jeno smut #jeno #jeno x reader #lee jeno x reader #lee jeno

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darlingmbappe · 2 years ago

Text

The Loneliest | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Epilogue]

Summary: Your fiancé missing your birthday is the icing on the cake to a horrible couple of months. Now, you’re left to pick up your broken pieces, ending the chapter in your life that includes Kylian Mbappé.

Warnings: Complete angst all the way through, Kylian being a bad fiancé, fighting, breaking an engagement, lots of crying, cussing, this one’s kind of long so beware. Spoiler: no happy ending. Let me know if I missed anything. — English is not my first language —

Mornings used to be your favorite.

You’d wake up way too early to the sound of Kylian’s alarm for your liking, but it didn’t even matter. The hour or so you got to spend with your fiancé before he left were sacred, it was special. They were filled with easy conversation, tired hugs and sleepy kisses on the shoulder, the occasional quickie, or at least a cheeky squeeze of your ass. It felt like very moment spent together was precious. You felt loved by Kylian so much it made your stomach turn with butterflies just thinking about him.

Now, it felt like those domestic moments were a distant memory. Sure, all couples gradually get less and less lovey-dovey the longer they’re together, but the change was drastic. It was like you barley knew him anymore.

You’ve attempted to start conversations with Kylian about this. Multiple times, in fact. Immediately, he’d get defensive, ending in arguments that kept getting worse and worse. It’s difficult to have to tip toe around your feelings in order to avoid a fight. He stopped making you feel special.

This morning, you woke up knowing it will be a hard day; all alone in your shared king sized bed.

Today is your birthday, and you don’t think Kylian knows this. After many weeks of deep reflection and thought, you know that today might be the last day of your three and a half-year long relationship with Kylian Mbappé — a man who stole your heart and still has it. Once treasured, now barely beating. The diamond sitting on your left ring finger had started feeling like a foreign object, like something your body wanted to reject. It’s lost it’s comfort, now you seemed to lug around old memories you clung onto for dear life.

Kylian didn’t come home last night, though you saw on his private Snapchat story that he was safe, sound, and plastered out of his mind at some club with friends you didn’t even know. He couldn’t find it in him to text you back after 9 o’clock, when that morning he said he would be home no later than 8:30. He found a simple ‘going out, don’t wait up for me’ to be sufficient communication for the night.

You called Kylian, instead it went straight to voicemail. Your texts to him weren’t going through, either. He didn’t have training this morning because the coaches had a conference in London, so you knew he had to be home soon.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way to the kitchen for a bowl of bland cereal and coffee for one.

“Happy birthday to me.” You mumbled, looking down at your sad birthday breakfast. Compared to the last few years where Kylian prepared you a delicious meal, hired a chef, or took you out to the fanciest café in Paris — this meal actually made you lose your appetite.

Across town, Kylian was waking up with a pounding sensation in his head and no recollection of the night before.

“What happened last night?” Kylian grumbled as he woke up to the bright sunlight streaming in from the open shutters. His neck had a kink in it from passing out on his friend Paolo’s Airbnb couch in the early hours of the morning, his voice sounded like he’d swallowed gravel. “Fuck.” He covered his face from the blinding rays and felt around for his phone.

He hasn’t gotten drunk that heavily in so long, but when two of his old friends came to Paris for a few weeks, he couldn’t resist giving into their pleads when they’d asked him to tag along for a fun night on the town.

“Bro, you were so drunk last night.” He heard his other friend Bernardo chuckle, his voice almost gone as well from the festivities of the previous night. Kylian sat up, seeing both men looking half dead and clinging onto coffee mugs like a child would cling onto its mothers leg.

The guys chuckled in the kitchen. He smelled eggs cooking but they just made him nauseous. “What time is it? Where’s my phone?”

“Oh…” Paolo snickered and pointed at the bowl full of rice in the center of his kitchen island. “Yeah, man… I don’t know if the rice did much for it. It’s fucked.”

Kylian shot up toward his cell, not even remembering putting it in the rice last night. He carefully picked it up, the entire screen was shattered.

“Putain…” He attempted to hold down the power button just in case, glancing over to the microwave to see the time. 12:36pm. “Merde!”

He had an important meeting with his PR team about potential sponsorships for next years season at 2 o’clock, and if he showed up sweating whiskey with an obvious hangover, the brand reps might think twice before giving him any deals.

He bid his old friends goodbye but not before promising to go out again soon. A short taxi ride later, he was able to make it back home just a little after 1 o’clock.

Kylian bursts through the front door, booking it toward the shower in your ensuite bathroom, running right past you on the bed without a glance or even a hello.

You’d been trying to decide all day if you were pissed at him or just super sad, but seeing him ignore you that way made you realize that it didn’t matter. He stopped making you happy, making you both pissed and sad — a dangerous combination.

You get up and follow him in there as he hopped around trying to take his skinny jeans off.

“I’m gonna be late.” He panted, sliding inside the shower.

You assumed if he knew he would’ve said something… happy birthday… I love you… I’m sorry…

Curious and resentful, you stand close to the shower door so he could hear you. “Where are you going? I thought we…” You blink tears back, sighing and trying to get control of your wavering voice, “… I thought we could do something tonight.”

This wasn’t even the plan, but you were trying to find anyway for him to redeem himself.

“No, (Y/N). I can’t today, okay?” He snapped. “I’m in a rush. Can you please just pick out a nice outfit for me, quickly.”

You shake your head in disbelief, wiping a stray tear that rolled down your face, sniffling once. Kylian hears this and pokes his head out. “Hey,” his barely softer, “Look, sorry but I’m in a huge rush. It’s been a shit morning.”

“Me too.” You mumble, disappointment laced in your words but Kylian didn’t seem to catch onto it.

“Also, my phone shattered at some point last night, so can you call Thérèse and have her drop me off a new one at the training center?”

You huffed, getting control of your emotions that were simmering into anger. One more chance, you thought as you were about to walk out of the bathroom, you turn. “Do you want to do something when you get home? Maybe even just dinner here, a movie?”

“Maybe.” He said back, turning off the shower. All you could do is roll your eyes and bite your tongue. You were trying to give him every opportunity to come back from this.

You didn’t want to end it, but you promised yourself that if he fucks up today, that was it. You can’t keep hoping he’ll become the person he was before. He won’t listen when you talk anymore or even meet you in the middle. You have too much respect for yourself to settle for someone who can’t appreciate you.

You dry laughed. “Maybe.” You mocked, another angry tear rolling down your face, storming back into the bedroom and getting under the covers, arms crossed.

You wanted to sob, but choked it down when Kylian stormed out of the bathroom, wet and holding his towel up around his waist. “Why are you so moody?” He didn’t even look at you, just shook his head and threw his hand down, exasperated when he realized you weren’t putting an outfit together for him. “I just asked you to help me out.” He tusks. “Are you just going to lay around all day, then?”

You knew this tone. The one where something else was bothering him except he expressed it by nitpicking at anything in front of him. Being with him for so long, you knew how to gently pry out the real reason why he was snappy. Right now, there was no way were you even attempting to help him out in any way.

“Looks like it, huh?” You gritted through your teeth. You could practically feel the eye roll he gave you even though neither of you would look at each other.

He muttered something you couldn’t hear as he walked into the closet, hurriedly throwing on some outfit. “I didn’t feel like fighting today, (Y/N).” He growled and threw on a white hat. “Today has been miserable so far.”

“Miserable for you?” You gaped, face getting angrily red.

“Oh, don’t start.” He spat, grabbing his keys and walking out of the room.

You jumped up and stomped out of the room behind him, seeing him almost at the bottom of the stairs. “Kylian.”

He groaned, continuing to run down the steps. “I don’t have time for a fucking fight right now!”

“Kylian!” You yelled from the railing just as he grabbed the door handle. With an exasperated turn around, he locked eyes with your teary ones. “When you get home… we need to talk.” You didn’t try and hide your sadness this time, knowing how the talk was going to end. The sentence squeaked out, like your forced it.

He paused, taking his hand off the door handle. “Fine.” He said this differently upon seeing your broken demeanor, shuffling in place. Kylian checked his watch, looking back up at you. You stared back, watching him hesitantly leave your shared home.

Kylian knew he’d been fucking up with you lately. Coming home late, forgetting to call or text back, paying less and less attention to you as the season progressed. He knew he was getting too comfortable and at some point stopped putting in any effort. The worst was that he’d been taking his frustrations out on you, shutting you out. He watched as you tried to smile through his snarky and quick comments, feeling bad immediately but he just didn’t know how to deal with that kind of guilty emotion.

Your engagement has been a long one. Nine months in and you guys hadn’t even set a date yet. Time kept slipping through the glass, he wondered when the last time you’d even brought up the wedding was — wondering when the last time he even thought about it directly after.

The whole way to work he watched out the window, lost in thought about how he needs to be better. So much so that his driver had to tell him that they’d arrived. He was actually early. With a big fake smile on his face, he did his best to set it all aside, turning on work-mode.

Meanwhile, you had a really nice cry. The kind where you just let it all out because you knew no one was around to hear or pity you. Once you pulled yourself together, you gathered your suitcases from the attic.

It was obvious you couldn’t take everything that was yours. You’d bought so many things for this place, for your shared home… so you focused on the things you were for sure taking with you. All your clothes, makeup, sentimental items, and the fruit bowl you found in a market in Spain were secured inside your bags. You stopped and cried so many times… over a pair of shoes that he bought for you or a picture that brought back sweet memories… all these momentos felt wasted.

Yesterday, you were certain that he would remember what today was. So certain that you convinced yourself you didn’t need to get a hotel. You wished you did, because doing it today felt so final, so depressing. And, upon looking at your empty side of the closet, vanity, side table, bathroom shelf… you had to pull yourself together and be strong. Remind yourself why you’ve resorted to this.

Back at the training grounds, Kylian snapped his last photo-op with the CEO of some athletic wear company, absolutely drained from having to pretend for hours. He had sent his assistant off for a new phone when he saw her, knowing you didn’t text her about him needing one.

He trudged over to Hakimi now that all of that was over, sitting down with a long huff, placing his head in his hands. He hadn’t talked to him all day, being occupied with offers and whatnot.

“Man, I’ve been texting you all day.” He patted his back once, turning to face him.

Kylian looked up at his friend, shaking his head. “It broke last night. Thérèse is out getting me a new one now.”

Hakimi sensed there was something bothering Kylian, but knew not to approach him too strongly. He nodded at his answer. “So, uh… I bet (Y/N)’s pissed, right?”

Kylian blew a raspberry. “Oh, yeah… so pissed…” He nodded with the most exhausted look on his face. “Wait, how’d you know that?”

“Well, I mean, Hiba would be pissed too.” Kylian raised an eyebrow, still confused on how he knew about your fight. “You know, if I had to work on her birthday like this.” He laughed at the thought. “I’d have a lot of groveling to do. Or, did you guys plan something on a different day?”

Kylian gazed up at Hakimi, eyes widening with the vague memory of todays date. “Wait.” He gulped, hands hovering over his head. “Is today the…” he flipped the calendar in his mind, praying that Achraf was mistaken about that. “Ah… merde! Putain! Shit!” Kylian smacked the table and bounced up out of the chair, heart beating a million miles a minute.

Hakimi stood too, watching Kylian pace with his hands cradling his head. “No… Kylian, you didn’t…”

He nods, panic settling in hardcore. “I yelled at her today. I asked her why she was being moody. I didn’t come home last night— ah baise moi, mec. je suis un putain d'idiot!” He cursed himself. Ah fuck me, man. I’m a goddamn idiot!

Thérèse speed walked over to the man in crisis, holding a brand new phone. “All your data’s transferred and everything!” She cheered. Kylian probably didn’t even thank her, going directly to his messages with you to text you that he’s so sorry and coming home right now. When he clicked on your icon, he saw all of the messages you sent him last night

You: Ky will u please come home — 9:25 pm

You: I know ur friends are in town and all but I seriously need u with me tonight — 10:48 pm

You: hello?? — 11:51 pm

You: are u okay? Do u need a ride? — 1:35 am

You: I’m getting worried. please just reply. I need to know ur okay Kylian — 1:40 am

You: nice Snapchat story. Good to know ur fucking fine. — 2:46 am

He ran a hand over his face, beginning to sweat with guilt. His eyes lowered on the screen, the small grey message by the keyboard truly making his stomach knot up even more.

(Y/N) stopped sharing their location with you.

His heart fell in his chest, churning… he felt like he was going to puke. Suddenly all of the conversations you tried to start with him about his behavior over the last six months came flooding back. The same conversations he moaned and groaned though, always deflecting until it turned into a fight. God, how badly he had been treating you… like you were a menace in his life — when really, without you, he wouldn’t be able to go on the same.

He began trying to call you and gathered his things, but his calls simply rang until it went to voicemail. “I-I have to go.” He stammered, almost tripping over his feet. Hakimi watched, shocked at the state of his best friend, knowing how he could get sometimes.

Kylian jumped in the town car as fast as his world-renowned legs could get him there, giving the driver instructions to get him home, and quick. The whole way he cussed at slow drivers, construction workers, red lights. He checked his new phone for the time; 10:37 pm and still fifteen minutes away from home.

God, please let her still be home.

He won’t know what to do with himself if you just left.

‘We need to talk’ rung over and over again in his head like a jinx. The way your voice cracked, the tears he saw you hold back. She’s so strong, he thought.

I raised my voice at her. I forgot her birthday and then treated her like she was the problem.

He pinched his leg to distract himself from crying. He has to be level headed, calm, logical, loving, and very apologetic— everything he hasn’t been for the last months. He knows he doesn’t deserve you, but can’t imagine what his life, his future will look like if he lets you slip through his fingers.

No girl has ever made him feel like this. Everything he looked for in a woman you embodied tenfold and he fucked it up. He has to fix this.

Kylian didn’t even let the car come to a full stop when he arrived, tripping over his own feet, realizing he left his coat in the back seat but really not caring at all. He just has to know you’re there. He looked toward the driveway, seeing your car still parked in its usual spot.

Thank the lord.

Fumbling with the keys, his shaking hands clicked the door open, seeing only the living room lamp on.

“Bébé?” He called. He saw your figure looking at him from the couch. “Oh, (Y/N)…” he breathed, walking over to get closer. You stoop up, meeting him halfway. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He heaved, breathless from his pounding heart.

The dull yellow light illuminating the side of your face showed him how puffy and red your eyes were, how downturned your usual smile was. He saw what he’d done to you, all the months you’ve had to walk on eggshells, the conversations that he’s turned on you, how he forgot your special day.

You still didnt say anything, keeping your arms crossed, looking him in the eye — the while begging yourself internally not to cave. His sweet eyes knew how to reel you in. You weren’t going to cave. You couldn’t.

“I forgot your birthday…” He whispered sadly, guilt drenched his tone, sending a cold depressing shiver down your spine.

Your eyes brimmed with tears again, but you bit your cheek and shook them away, having to be strong for yourself. “So, you finally remembered.” You sniffled.

“I’m so sorry, bèbè. Time just…” he stopped himself from making anymore excuses, “I’m just a fucking idiot. And I’m going to make it up to you. I promise, I’ll make it up to you.” He stammered, voice shaking from nerves.

“But, it’s not just about the birthday, Kylian. It’s been… it’s..–”

“–I know, bébé. I’ve been horrible to you. Truly horrible. You never deserved any of that.” He cautiously lifted his hand to yours, grabbing your fingers. All the words he was going to say suddenly didn’t feel good enough. No I’m sorry is going to feel sufficient.

You looked at your tangled hands, he played with your fingers anxiously, trying to catch your gaze, but it now stayed glued to the floor.

You took a deep breath and looked up at him with teary eyes — that of a wounded puppy. It broke him. “We need to talk.” Your words were laced in false strength, false confidence.

You didn’t know what the hell you were going to do once you leave him. Flying blind isn’t something you did very often, but you knew it’s what had to be done.

“Yes.” He nodded eagerly, trying to guide your hand toward the couch to sit. “Let’s talk. We can talk this all out, right?”

His hopeful tone made your heart break even more. The guiltiness that radiated off of him made it harder to do what you had to… his face fell when you let your hand slip back into your folded arms, turning away from him, sniffling.

“Kylian, I can’t… I can’t sit down with you and hold your hand and let you apologize to me. It’s not how this is gonna go.” Wiping your cheeks roughly, you turned to see his dropped face. “This talk… it’s going to be really hard. For both of us.”

He approached you, putting his hands on your forearms. “You’re scaring me, bèbè.”

Your lip quivered, not knowing how to tell him. You couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Kylian. I love you.”

“I love you too. I love you so much, (Y/N). I know we can work through this. I know it.” He pleaded, moving his face around to try and get you to look at him.

“No, Kylian. I love you, but…” You finally looked up, noticing he’d started crying as well. Ouch. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

He didn’t know what he was expecting. Sure, he was scared and sorry about what he did but the possibility of breaking up seemed impossible. Not like he was immune to repercussions, but you two just made sense. He loves you impossibly too much, but he’s forgotten to show you.

Kylian stood in shock, he felt his heartbeat in his teeth, his throat dry. “Don’t say that.” He whimpered. “Please, don’t say that.”

His hands traveled up to hold your face and he bent down to your level, needing you to look at him, to see how regretful he was, how much harder he will work at this. He touched his forehead to yours, wrestling with the temptation of falling down from anguish.

You shook your head between his palms, letting the tears fall freely, a small sob escaping. He wiped away the tears with his thumbs, attempting to hold you closer, squeaking out the smallest words; “Bèbè.” “No, no.” “Please.” “I’m so sorry.”

You grabbed his wrists, using all your strength to pull them from your face. Immediately, you turned around and grabbed a duffel bag he hadn’t noticed was sitting on the armchair. Your feet took you toward the exit.

“No.” His voice broken, his own face scrunched up and soaked with tears. “No, where are you going?”

It took everything in you not to comfort him, run into his arms, tell him it will be okay.

You pushed your instincts down and turning and shrugged instead, now feet away from the man you love, closing in on the front door. “I’m…” You felt a choking sob threatening to spill out of your mouth and had to look away, silently crying out with your hand covering you mouth. With a deep breath, you continued. “I’m leaving.”

“Well, when will you be back?” In just a few strides, he was back in front of you. He couldn’t help but hold your face again, wiping more tears with a gentle but pleading touch.

You gripped his wrists again, only this time, you weren’t strong enough to pull them away, instead feeling his warm skin one more time.

With a small shake of the head, you responded. “I’m not coming back, Kylian.”

“But… but this is your home. It’s our home.”

“I’m sorry, Kylian.” You finally ripped his hands from your face once more and adjusted the heavy strap on your shoulder. Turning around, your feet drag you to the front door. You reach into your back pocket and take out the house key that’s not longer attatched to your usual tassel keychain and set it down on the table.

He stood there and watched, now feeling helpless in this heart wrenching situation. It doesn’t seem like this is real, he has to be having a nightmare, just watching you leave his life and there’s nothing he can do about it — but it doesn’t stop him from trying, begging. “Amour, no. I can fix this, please just give me a chance to make this right.” He was desperate, once again approaching you.

Kylian sniffled, watching your every reaction, hoping for a glint of anything that would allow him to make it up to you. You looked down at your hands, then your left ring finger… everything in your body was holding you back from taking it off, but you mustered up every ounce of self control.

Kylian looked away as you slid the engagement ring off, hearing the light clink of it being set next to the keys. With his hands at his sides, back slouching, he looked back at your face, nodding in defeat.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated in a squeaky whisper.

“Me too.” He nods, looking down at your empty hand. He couldn’t but reach out, trapping your fingers delicately with his fingers, stepping closer.

His arm snakes around your waist, holding you, shaking with his suppressed cries. You allowed yourself to hug him back, to close the chapter, to feel his warm embrace again before you never would again.

The hug lasted for a while, swaying back and forth and crying into each others shoulders. He smelled like he always did, and you noted how hard it would be if you came across his familiar scent again. He also was getting high on your fumes, indulging in the coconut scented shampoo he had become addicted to. The touch of your hands clasping at his back made him cry harder, squeezing you tighter and lovingly.

You pulled back once your cries calmed, sniffling. He stayed close, lifting his eyes to look into yours. Before he knew how to stop himself, he closed in the space, landing his salty lips on yours, closing his eyes. You kissed him back, hating how much you’d miss him. The way his fingers dug into your hips made you lightheaded.

It’s too hard to stop, but you had to. Pulling away, you turned around quickly and left, sobbing all the way to your packed up car.

Kylian was glued in place. His heart had been put through a blender, his head throbbed, his chest was cold without you with him. He saw the flash of your headlights backing out and leaving the property reflect inside the dark and empty home.

He’s miserable, hollow. He’s angry at himself, maybe at you, even if he knows this was his own doing… the whirling in his brain wasn’t anywhere near as loud as the silence after you left — a deafening silence that followed him up to us bedroom, one he now only shared with his thoughts.

It killed him when he saw there was no longer a charger plugged next to your side of the bed, that your slippers were gone from their usual spot by the corner. None of your favorite books were displayed on the shelves, your skincare products left just a ring of residue on the sink. Stepping into the closet, he noticed it still smelled like you, but everything was gone. Everything but the shirts of his that you had stolen through the years, now neatly folded on top of one of his dressers. He wished you had taken them to remember him. He wished he could turn back time and do everything right.

Above all the sadness and the gaping hole is his heart was determination. He fucked up but he wasn’t about to do it again. You would not be the one that got away. It may be the last thing he ever does, but he’ll make it all up to you. He was prepared to go to the furthest lengths to hold you again. But, for now, he needed to wallow in self pity, feel everything that he needs to feel.

Not even on the chilliest Parisian night had his bed felt as cold as it did that day.

A/N: Okay I feel like I kinda dragged that out but angst! I’m contemplating a part 2 but I also kinda like leaving it at this… would y’all want another part? Also, the title is inspired by the song The Loneliest by Måneskin, listen to it after reading. Their new album is so fucking amazing. — Requests for Kylian Mbappé are open! —

#kylian imagines #kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe angst #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe smut #kylian mbappé x reader #achraf hakimi #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappé imagine #kylian x reader #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe blurb #kylian mbappe fic #Kylian mbappe break up #neymar #neymar imagines #neymar jr imagine

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wordstome · 10 months ago

Text

the very first night (ntwdt pt 2)

tell me that you hate it hate that i'm no longer in your reach if i can't hear you say it maybe you can't change it, but if you never if you never put it on the line how am i gonna sign for it?

alpha colonel König x beta ex-lover reader

2nd person, no y/n, she/her pronouns, reader's callsign is Eden, reader speaks French, omegaverse, exes to lovers, fraternization, fantasy version of military protocol, probable incorrect use of "copy"

2.2k words

tw: mentions of dead bodies and vague violence, dirty talk, könig is in rut but no actual sex happens, mention of grinding

Do you guys still even remember this au??? 😅 I'm back to writing this fic with this specific format just like the last time I had bad writer's block. I'm sorry that I basically made you guys take a poll and then immediately disregarded the results :( metalhead König is going to be the next one published, and then kosovo maiden. Anyway, this is less of a foray into the omegaverse as it is into exploring a married couple's dynamic. Forgive me if it's inaccurate, I've never been married. (Several of the people who will probably read this are married so...I might be really embarrassing myself here lol)

“Two on your six, O’Conor.”

König watches as his colleague takes down his pursuants with practiced ease. “Good to have someone watching over me, Eden.” the man roughs into his comms.

“It was my pleasure, Declan.”

“Can you two keep the flirting off the main comms?” Fender huffs. König hears O’Conor snort before the line goes quiet.

“Steady,” Horangi says next to him.

“What?” König says.

“You’re breathing like an angry bull. It’s unnerving.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s obvious you’re mad O’Conor’s flirting with your ex-wife.”

“She’s not—“ König lets out a sigh of defeat and tips his head away from the scope. “She can do whatever she wants. I’m not her keeper.”

“Right, which is why you’re white-knuckling your rifle and giving off the most furious pheromones I've ever felt."

König gives his friend a deadly side eye. “Can I help you?”

“Nah. Just confirming what I already know”, Horangi answers, unbearably smug.

König rolls his eyes and returns to the task at hand.

The two of you avoid each other, mostly.

When you’re forced to interact, it's with stiff professionalism. Cold and distant. The way it was when it was really, really bad.

You spend your time becoming closer to the other operators. O'Conor, for one, is someone you find yourself growing close to. In your line of work, it's usually not a good idea to get too attached to someone who may not see the next day, but it's part of your job to know these people now.

They're so competent that you can ignore the obvious, anyway.

König's always been competent, but watching him work nowadays is strange, like watching a remake of a nostalgic childhood film.

His movements are the same. He flicks his wrist the same way, with a heartbeat's worth of pause before the movement. Him taking cover, leaning with that awful posture you always got on his case about.

But everything about him is more ruthless, more efficient. The unrefined brutality of his youth is replaced with a honed precision that is foreign to you.

It stings, though you know the feeling has no right to exist.

You can't keep yourself from reminiscing about the past, when everything about him was familiar. When you knew him so well, it was enough to save both your lives.

"We've lost comms with König."

Your heart drops into your throat. You've been on several ops with him at this point, but this has never happened before.

"What do you mean you've lost comms?"

"He's not responding."

"What?" Fear grips your heart at everything that implies.

"He's in your building, Eden. Find him and extract. Copy."

You move slowly, like ice is flowing through your veins. "Copy."

You will yourself to calm down. Lost communications doesn't mean anything but lost communications. Panicking that you're going to encounter his body will only ensure you end up as a corpse as well. Besides, who could ever take down a man like that, tall like a giant and quick like a viper as he is?

If you had lost comms, what would you do? Re-establish them, of course. Pick your way out of the building and do everything in your power to reconnect with your team. From where König entered, he'd be exiting the building on the east side. You turn to head that way, then hesitate.

König's not you, though. He's not like any other member of the team. Proud, arrogant, vicious König, far more so than other alphas. You used to be afraid of him while he was at work, but eventually you came to realize that was simply how he was in his element—a different persona he wore to battle. As much as you wished he would be sensible and take the safe route, König would never take the safe route. He'd be carrying on the mission on his own, moving towards the target at the center of the building.

But he's a professional. No matter how good he is at what he does, he's not a one-man army, and he knows the right thing to do would be to extract. It's a gamble. If you head towards the east exit and he's not there, you could be losing precious time to find him. But if you head towards the center, you could be walking right into a fight you can't win and become overwhelmed.

You let out a shaky breath and attempt to calm your mind. What would he do? What is he thinking? If you make the wrong call, if you don't know your lover as well as you think you do, one of you won't be walking out of here. You close your eyes and think.

You open them with newfound determination and turn towards the center of the building.

You'd been right, of course, judging by the fallen enemies you find as you move through the hallways. But you don't allow yourself to feel sure until the moment you lay eyes on him, securing the target—a hard drive containing sensitive information.

"König!" you hiss, just as he whips towards you, gun drawn. He relaxes when he sees it's only you. Despite the fraught situation you're in, you can't help yourself from dashing towards him and burying your face into his chest in a hug.

"Eden," he says, his relief evident.

"You stupid motherfucker," you hiss. "You should have extracted the moment your comms cut out."

His eyes crinkle up behind his mask the way they always do when he smiles. "You knew I wouldn't."

"Yes, because I am burdened with being one of the few people on this earth who knows you like the back of my hand. Atlas holding up the sky," you grumble.

"I know you're relieved to see me," he responds, joy evident in his tone.

You let out a sigh. "Can we just get out of here?"

"Aye-aye, captain."

You could do without those memories, you think whenever the two of you trade clipped exchanges during ops now.

König still has traces of the arrogance of his youth, but it shows through less now. He's wiser, more patient and far less reckless.

You catch yourself admiring how good of a leader he's become. His connection with his teammates is like muscles flexing a hand.

You're no longer a part of that nervous system.

In fact, he's always catching you off guard now.

The energy in the common area is weird today.

You can’t quite put your finger on it. It’s like everyone’s walking on eggshells, but at the same time, nobody’s mood seems to be that affected. It’s like you’re all mice living in someone’s walls: going about business as usual, but with some looming threat casting a pall over everything.

“Is it just me or does the energy on base feel off today?” you ask Calisto.

“Oh. Yeah, that. Don’t worry about it,” she says. She swings open the refrigerator and pulls out coffee creamer. “No need for concern. König’s in rut.”

You do a double take. “He is?”

“Yeah.” She’s casual about it as she dumps cream and sugar into her coffee. “Usually he has a pretty light rut—he just gets testy and irritated. But for some reason this time is bad.” She offers you the cream, but you shake your head. “Don’t know what’s up with him, but he had to barricade himself in his room. His scent is driving people up the wall.”

You stare at the table in front of you. It can’t be a coincidence that König’s rut gets worse as soon as you’re near him again, can it?

When you look up, Horangi is staring at you from across the room. Slowly, he raises his mug to his lips, never once taking his eyes off of you.

You swallow the lump in your throat.

Calisto was right. The scent is overwhelming, but it's also familiar. You can't blame the others for avoiding the area. If you'd never dealt with him in this state before, you'd be hightailing it out of there too. Which is why you're doing this despite...everything.

You hover outside his door, trying to gather yourself, or work up the nerve to knock, or anything. It doesn’t matter in the end, though.

“I can smell you, liebling,” comes his voice, deep and growling and verging on feral. A shiver runs up your spine. You haven’t been called that in a long, long time.

“I only came here to bring you things. Water and…snacks.” you stammer, instantly hating yourself for how weak you sound.

“All these years later…and you still smell the same.” He blows right past your feeble little excuse, not even dignifying it with a response.

“I’m just here to check on you,” you murmur.

“Is that so.” You gasp as you hear a loud thud against the door from the other side. Oh God, it’s him, his body heat almost burning through the wood, pressed so close that you can hear his heaving breaths. “How kind of you.”

“It’s the least I can do, considering…”

“Considering it’s your fault I’m like this in the first place?”

Your legs feel weak. “Yes.”

His voice is silky, dangerous despite the barely restrained lust behind it. “Good girl.”

“That’s not fair,” you whisper.

“That’s a shame. You used to like it when I called you that. Still do, according to my nose.”

You wish he wasn’t right, but he is. You’re so slick that you’re soaking your underwear.

“Do you want the water or not?”

“Are you going to come with it?”

“I—”

“Because I promise you, if you’re still standing there when I open this door, you will get fucked against it.” He sounds like a savage animal snapping his jaws in hunger, and fuck, your body feels hot and weak in response. Every cell in your body is screaming out for you to throw open that door and let him fuck you limp. If you told him to break down the door, you’re sure that he would.

“You can’t say that anymore,” you whisper, hating the words as they leave you.

That seems to bring König back to rationality. You can picture him now on the other side of the door, shoulders slumping as he withdraws back into himself. "I...I'm sorry."

You slide down to sit on the ground with your back to the door, gripping a water bottle in a clenched fist. "It's like no time has passed at all, huh?"

You hear him let out a shaky breath, clearly trying to collect himself and bite back words he can't say. "Yeah."

That's the thing, isn't it? Your biology and his got the two of you into this situation in the first place. Very little of that has changed. Even though you've grown distanced in your minds, your bodies haven't forgotten the connection.

You're still struggling with how to feel about that. So much of your life has been dictated by what your body needs and wants. You've spent just as much time bucking against those needs and wants, so much that it feels like second nature.

"All of this...it takes me back. Do you remember the first night I spent with you during a rut?" you say. For a while you don't think he's heard you, but then he responds.

"How could I forget? It's my most embarrassing memory."

"Still?"

"I swore I would never let something like that happen again."

You giggle a little. "It was cute, for what it's worth." That first time, you'd come prepared with water and food, just like you had tonight, prepared for a long night full of...strenuous exercise. Instead, König had gotten so overwhelmed at his first rut with a partner that he came by just grinding on your leg and immediately fell into a 12-hour sleep.

"Yeah, you've said that. Doesn't make me cringe any less."

"And I'll say it again, it wasn't as bad as you think it is." You idly trace the cap of the water bottle with a fingertip. "There's no shame between us."

Another long pause before he responds. "Was."

A dull, throbbing pain nestles itself below your sternum.

"It...doesn't have to be past tense," you put forth tentatively.

"Doesn't it? We've gone right back to being strangers. You're still on the other side of the door."

You bite your lip. You can't deny that, nor the distance that's grown between the two of you.

This is all happening too fast. You don't know if you want to close the gap. You don't know if you're ready to make amends, after what happened.

"You're in no condition to have this conversation," you say, to distract both him and yourself.

"Conversation with you is hard to come by nowadays."

"Well...let's change that. Starting when your rut's over. Let's try talking like normal people again." This time, you don't know if you can blame your stupid biology for the relief you feel saying that. Maybe this time it's nothing but you and your treacherous heart.

You hear a thump against the door, but not an aggressive one. More like he's leaned his head against it. "I guess we have to start somewhere."

More silence. Then he speaks again, his voice tremulous.

"Can you stay? It's easier when you're here."

You swallow, your mouth gone dry like a desert. You can barely manage your next two words. "Of course."

The rest of the night is quiet, but you know he's there. At one point, you can even hear his steady, even breathing. Somewhere along the way, you notice that your breathing has synced with his.

The two of you fall asleep like that, propped up next to each other with a single layer of wood between you.

I miss you like it was the very first night...

I only revised this once while exhausted out of my fucking mind at 3am, so forgive me if anything's awkward or clunky. I'll probably go through it again in the morning (and die of cringe). But there we go! I hope you guys enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts and comments <3

Regarding my tag lists: I've had to leave out a few people, so if you see your url missing from this, please let me know and I'll add you back. Also, apologies if you're here despite not asking to be tagged for this particular story. I haven't gotten around to sorting out fic-specific taglists yet 🥲

@kneelingshadowsalome @danibee33 @crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @cookiepie111 @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @hexqueensupreme @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @deaddainish @teehee-47 @catluvwr @keiva1000 @waves-against-a-cliff @channelsoph @cutiecusp @itsagrimm @dins-riduur-anthe @mantishymns @lexuria @complexivelovely @black-moon-bunny @kit-williams @shebibtedmypepnis @mafer383

#könig #könig x reader #könig x you #konig #konig x reader #konig x you #könig cod #konig cod #cod #cod mw2 #call of duty #mw2 #konig mw2 #könig mw2 #fic: now that we don't talk

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666writingcafe · 5 months ago

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Jealousy?

"Would you mind answering a question for me?" Barbatos asks me once we've exchanged pleasantries and settled down in the parlor.

"Depends on the question." A faint smile crosses his lips.

"I was just wondering how you could choose to associate yourself with Solomon." The irritation in his voice is rather evident, and I'm reminded of the staredown the two men engaged in a couple days ago.

"What do you have against him?" I sound a bit too defensive for my liking. I'm not trying to pick a fight with Barbatos; I simply want to know why he seems to detest the sorcerer so much.

He sighs before replying,

"Perhaps the version of Solomon that accompanied you here has cleaned up his act--and good for him if he has--but the one I know is fiendish, a blight upon the world, and destruction incarnate. He throws anyone he can under the bus if it meant avoiding trouble for himself. Being here for an extended period of time may cause your sorcerer to revert back to old habits, and I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Why? You hardly know me."

"You're right." He pauses. "I'm not sure, really. I mean, you seem like a good, honest person, but what do I know? Maybe you're just as bad as him, and I shouldn't have even bothered taking you under my wing." While coming from a practical place, his words do sting.

"And yet you did." Barbatos sighs again.

"And yet I did," he repeats, taking a sip of his tea. "The decision came from a gut feeling I had, and those rarely fail me. I just hope that you don't prove me wrong."

My turn to drink some tea.

I'm not used to Barbatos being this open about his emotions, especially while he's on duty. Perhaps time has granted him the ability to remain calm and composed when he's on the clock, but still. It'll be a bit before I get used to this particular attitude of his.

"Are you ready for your first lesson?" he asks, pulling me out of my head and back to the present moment. It takes me a second to remember exactly why I'm over at the castle today in the first place, but once I do, I quickly nod my head.

"Good. We'll start with a fairly basic anatomy topic: pheromones." Interesting place to start. Is he finally going to let me ask the question I had about Lucifer?

"In a lot of ways, demons bear a closer resemblance to animals than to humans," he continues. "While their strength in the latter is fairly minimal, the former uses them as a effective method of communication. Our pheromones can tell others what we're feeling as well as mark our territory, among other things.

"Demons have a baseline scent that's present no matter what they do. For example, I smell like mint, and Lord Diavolo like old leather. Different pheromones will bring out specific notes of the baseline scent. Positive emotions tend to make it sweeter, while negative emotions bring out its bitter and sour side. If those emotions are tied to one of the seven sins, then the scent becomes more potent, sometimes to the point of being nauseating to anyone that happens to catch a whiff.

"Am I making sense to you so far?" I nod my head. I don't have any questions yet, but I have a feeling that even if I did, Barbatos wouldn't let me ask any of them just yet.

"Now, Lucifer and his brothers have stayed in the castle for the last couple months, and in that time, I've picked up on all of their scents. Lucifer had one of the more pungent ones. Understandably so, since he's probably the most emotionally scarred from the war, but it got to the point where I couldn't be around him for longer than a few minutes. And making some of my favorite dishes proved to be impossible after a while, for even the smallest amount of nutmeg would make my stomach turn.

"But the moment you returned his credit card to him, Lucifer's scent noticeably shifted. For once, he actually smelled pleasant. And then it became stronger. By the time he left my side, I was craving a giant slice of coffee cake." At this point, he stops talking, allowing me to finally speak.

"So, you're telling me that my simple nice gesture was enough to turn him on?"

"It would appear that way, yes." Unbelievable. "If I pointed it out at the time, though, Solomon probably would have run after Lucifer to tease him about it, and that would most definitely piss Lucifer off. Plus, he would adamantly denied feeling that way at all, and given his initial behavior towards you, I didn't want to see you upset by him completely disregarding your kindness."

As I mull over Barbatos' words, I'm suddenly reminded of a specific moment. One where Lucifer had his mouth covered with a handkerchief, looking like he was about to throw up.

I wonder...

"If it's not too much trouble, would you mind telling me what I smell like?" I ask, causing Barbatos to smile.

"Not at all. In fact, I was just getting ready to ask you if you wanted to know, so this works out great." He sets his tea down on a nearby table and gets up, walking around and stopping behind the chair I'm sitting in. I momentarily feel part of his face on top of my head as he audibly sniffs. I'm sure that if someone walked past us right now, they'd be weirded out by what they saw.

Or maybe not. I don't know if intentionally smelling someone like this is standard demon behavior. Maybe it is, and I'm overthinking it.

"Vanilla buttercream frosting," Barbatos announces. Somehow, that doesn't surprise me. It at least explains a few things, if nothing else. Frosting can get overwhelmingly sweet.

"That might actually work," he mutters to himself as he sits back down.

"What would?" Barbatos finishes his tea before clasping his hands in front of him.

"There's a creature on the grounds that needs tamed. He's both ferocious and extremely dangerous, so Lord Diavolo had me put a spell on him to prevent anyone from coming into contact with him. If I told you how to undo the spell, would you like to take a stab at it?"

"What makes you think I'd be successful?"

"You don't smell threatening."

"No; I smell like a goddamn dessert. The creature will probably think I'm food and try to eat me."

"And if that's the case, I'll bail you out." He pauses. "There are creatures like this one that are very selective about who they will submit to, and I believe that you fit this particular one's criteria. Plus, you'll earn the title "Ruler of the Underworld", and you can use that as a way to get people to quit treating the brothers like shit." I find myself snorting in amusement.

"Like a mere title is going to make people change their entire ideology."

"People can think whatever they like. They just have to learn to keep some of those thoughts to themselves or else face severe consequences." The grin on his face is lowkey terrifying. I don't know if I want to be on the wrong end of that smile.

So, I end up agreeing to take on the responsibility of taming this creature.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr

#obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me mc #obey me barbatos #obey me lucifer #this is one of at least a few examples of me flipping the roles of different characters to create a sort of mirror universe #i just think it would be interesting

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genericpuff · 1 year ago

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The Extended Mishandling of LO's S3 Midseason Finale Premiere

Alright, so I had mentioned leading up to the release of the newest LO episode that my feelings regarding LO returning were pretty "meh". Not hyped, but not completely back of mind either. Just sort of a weird calm before the storm type feeling that could go either way.

I'm glad I got to have that moment of calmness because good god, this episode was an absolute shitshow. And honestly, I'm not surprised, for several reasons:

Rachel has never been good at maintaining a buffer, even back at the start of the series she only ever had 2-3 episodes ready ahead of her schedule which is NOT an ideal buffer for an originals series.

Rachel has never been good at writing, she's very "draw first write later" and has stated as such in interviews that when she gets 'stuck' on what she's writing, she'll just start drawing and fit the pieces in later.

Four months is NOT enough time to both rest, attend massive conventions, and work on improving a project while also getting buffer episodes ready.

Because of the FP episodes remaining locked over the hiatus, technically Rachel only needed to have ONE episode ready upon return for the newest FP release, not multiple like she'd usually need like in the past during the S2 midseason hiatus or the season finale episodes which would unlock those FP releases like normal - so for all we know, she could have drawn this episode literally last week, especially when the promo material was so last minute. Frankly I think it was REALLY stupid for whoever it was who decided to keep these FP episodes locked (whether it was her or WT, it was more likely WT) but you can read all I have to say about that in my review of the midseason finale episodes.

All that's to say, no, there was never any guarantee Rachel was going to somehow "turn around" the ride we're currently on. I know that many of the critics were hoping for that to happen, but with the circumstances of the hiatus mixed with Rachel's bad habits of putting her best efforts into the procrastination projects that aren't her actual comic (ex. the few original pieces and LO sketches she put out during the hiatus) it just wasn't in the cards. This is where the comic is at and this is where it will remain until it's over.

I want to also point something out about this episode that was... really glaring to me.

As with all of these hiatus returns, LO got priority advertising in the first two banner slots and push notifications AND a popup ad within the app. This is unsurprising, Webtoons is still trying to milk this thing for what it's worth.

I know a lot of people are gonna focus on the art, or the fact that WT is continuing to shill LO, but I wanna point out the part that WT implemented specifically - "NEW SEASON".

This is literally just false. At best I'd like to think some intern just messed up and thought this was a new season, but it's literally not, the episode designation still says "S3". Note that the creators only design the banner art, the actual labels on top are put there by Webtoons.

But at worst, this feels like blatant lying to continue to hide the fact that LO is ending. Mind you, Rachel and Webtoons have still not put out official posts stating that this is the final arc. There is NOTHING from either of them to communicate to the audience that the comic is ending next year. It feels like they're trying to avoid the topic altogether out of fear of losing the fanbase they still have, rather than hyping up the comic's end for those who have stuck around to see how it all wraps up. And honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if this was the case, considering they're now trying to funnel the fanbase into Penguin/Inklore with new marketing deals and the whole Rachel Smythe Presents thing. They're trying to make this seem like the beginning of something "new" when it's really just a quiet shifting of management (Penguin House).

But all that aside, let's actually get into the episode. It's one episode after 4 months, which is not standard for LO's hiatuses, typically FP episodes release on schedule (meaning free readers start hiatuses 3 weeks after FP readers do), the only time this has been an exception has been with the 2 week breaks because the whole point of those was to build a buffer (which you can't do if you're going ahead and releasing the FP episodes anyways). For extended hiatuses like these, usually free readers still get their FP episodes, but that wasn't the case here. That means Rachel technically only needed one episode ready for the comic's return, and it shows. It really fucking shows.

FROM HERE ON OUT THERE WILL BE FASTPASS SPOILERS REGARDING EPISODE 254. DO NOT CONTINUE IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED !!!

As per tradition, we get a title that means nothing at all. It just says what we already know.

Our collective husband Zeus is dying, no thanks to the poison cupcake fed to him by Apollo. For those who don't remember, Apollo had tricked Zeus into eating the cupcake by making him believe it was from Hebe. We are fully aware that it was Apollo who poisoned him. Remember that for later in this review.

Right off the bat we're off to a hilarious start, both with a cryptid appearance from Apollo in the background (lmao) who is, for some reason, ALREADY returning to the scene of the crime he just committed because... who knows at this point. Apollo and Psyche know it was Apollo at this point, I might add, but I have no clue why Apollo is actually returning to the scene of the crime when he has no idea Eros and Psyche know.

Moving on from that, can we talk about this hilarious dialogue?

"We have to call a doctor! Let's call Asclepius!"

"No, we can't trust him! Gosh darn it, why are we only bothering to think of ONE doctor in this universe where we've seen more than one doctor?? Guess Zeus is just gonna die! What a horribly contrived situation this is!"

And that's literally how I can best describe most of this episode. Contrived. There is a LOT of manufactured drama in this that makes ZERO sense even on a surface level.

And what do you mean exactly, Eros? "What a terrible system!" Is this supposed to be a joke? Lampshading? We've seen Persephone go to the gynecologist. There are non-god doctors who tend to gods all the time here.

Eros just doesn't seem to be that pressed over this, he sounds like Ned Flanders and that's NOT a good way to open up a scene like this... let alone an episode people have been waiting four months for.

Anyways, after a few pointless reaction panels (again remember I have to cut a lot of what I show here for Tumblr image limitations but I promise you, I'm keeping as much important stuff as I can in this, there's just THAT MUCH filler at this point), Eros and Psyche confront Apollo and he is... good god.

There is... so much to unpack here.

First of all, remember those theories about how Rachel was clearly trying to write Apollo as this "secret twist villain" the whole time but it doesn't work because Apollo is simultaneously written as both a 'conniving villain' and a massive dumbass at the same time?

Well, I finally have a more appropriate term for him. He's your average red pill redditor - someone who thinks he's smarter than everyone else when really all he does is sit on reddit all day using big words incorrectly in arguments he gets himself into with a bunch of equally-air-headed dumbasses.

"You can't possibly understand the nuances of the Olympian political system," Apollo said proudly, a man who had, ironically and obliviously, run for president in a monarchy. The union of kettle and pot is eternal.

He's the Slappable Jerk but instead of it being a painfully hilarious impression, it's just painful and hilarious for all the wrong reasons.

this is so stupid because it's 1.) Eros pointing out how obvious Apollo's plan was, despite Apollo acting smart two seconds ago with a goddess who, mind you, has been a goddess for ten years, and 2.) patricide isn't even intrinsically linked to politics, there's nothing 'political' about a guy trying to kill his dad except in, idk, a monarchy, which again, Apollo has spent ten years trying to rise to power in as a president which is a completely different form of government.

If I wanted to be really granular with this, I'd like to think Apollo is making some kind of point about the critics who call out LO's whack as fuck political system (especially in the trial arc) - as if he's saying "well you're just a stupid reader and this is fantasy where you don't understand exactly what political system we're using, so shut the fuck up you stupid twig" - but I don't think it's meant to be that deep. I think it's just Rachel trying to write a smart character and then failing at it because she, herself, is not a smart writer. And I'm really inclined to believe that more than the theory about this being some kind of meta-narrative about the critics because this entire plotline is contrived and stupid down to its core.

I did not cut anything out here, that's the pacing. Leto literally just appears out of nowhere and uh oh spaghettio's, she has Kassandra! Remember Leto? The character we were led to believe was truly "pulling the strings" until she disappeared from the story completely after she realized that Apollo and Persephone weren't a thing, even going so far as to call out her own son for being a fucking dumbass? Well, she's back and once again she's being involved as some kind of "double agent" in this whole thing, even though we literally haven't seen her since halfway through S2.

"Mm yes, you're so stupid, falling into my trap! Even though you had no reason to remember Kassandra anyways because she's literally a mortal woman you just met and you yourself have committed acts of violence against mortals without a shred of care! I'm so smart! My plan is all coming together!"

We've never seen Apollo do anything except cry and poop his pants, the closest he got to being "powerful" was his attempts to murder Daphne (who he seems to have forgotten about in this "master plan" of his) but ultimately he's literally just a piss ant baby and there's no reason to believe that he could somehow outmatch the God of Love who can literally manipulate people's emotions and states of mind with his arrows. But yeah sure go off, you're so powerful and smart.

The worst part is, I can't even buy this as the narrative trying to be like "see how manipulative and conniving he is?" because it's just silly. We've SEEN this man cry with his victim complex, we've seen him say and do the DUMBEST things that don't lend to any amount of "intelligence" he may have, it comes across less as him being "smart the whole time" and more as him trying to sound smart but ultimately sounding incredibly stupid. And I can't even immerse myself into it and buy that maybe that's the point, because it doesn't feel like the point, it just feels like inconsistent writing, he doesn't feel like a 'threat', he's just monologuing.

Bad art and Apollo literally just repeating what Leto already implied so this is a waste of the audience's time.

This is the funniest panel in the whole episode because I can't tell if Apollo is supposed to be in the background (for some reason, despite him literally being in front of Eros and Psyche two seconds ago) or if he's in the foreground and just REALLY small for some reason. This is so off-putting. And of course, it's just Apollo explaining what we're ALREADY SEEING ONSCREEN.

You see, in addition to this episode being contrived, it also talks down to its audience a LOT by explaining exactly what we're seeing onscreen. It's like Rachel saw the criticisms about her not including enough to depict what's actually going on in her head and so she thought the solution was to spoon feed information over pictures that are already doing the job of explaining what's going on. Rachel really doesn't know how to write and even when she tries to implement changes that reflect criticisms that have been made of her writing, she somehow makes things worse because she completely misses the point of what those criticisms are trying to get across.

Anyways, without even trying to resist (for some reason) Eros and Psyche get sentenced to horny jail.

They're now trapped in a basement that Leto somehow has in her home. How do we know that?

HAHAHA FUNNY LAMPSHADING SO FUNNNYYYYYYY

Leto claims that they shouldn't try to escape because the dungeon is "enchanted", but she doesn't even bother to explain what that means. So they literally don't bother trying. They don't try to call her bluff, they don't try to teleport out of there, they literally just go "well shoot", shrug their shoulders, and accept their fate. Just like with the whole "we can't trust the only doctor we bothered to think of" situation, Eros and Psyche are turning out to be some of the stupidest, lowest-effort characters in this comic who literally can't be bothered to try because that would require too much brain power.

Notice how much time we've spent on this and we haven't gotten back to where the cliffhanger of the last episode left off? Well buckle up because there's still more to cover.

So it turns out Hebe was still inside with her dad, in FULL VIEW of what was going on through glass which is somehow COMPLETELY soundproof, and when Apollo steps inside, she just has no idea what happened. She never bothered to even look outside to see what was going on with Eros and Psyche, she's just been sitting on the floor staring at Zeus' dead face for what was likely several minutes, unless Rachel is seriously trying to convince us that conversation and hostage negotiation from earlier only took 2 seconds. The timeline is such a mess at this point that characters basically freeze in place as soon as they're not the focus of the scene.

Apollo rushes inside, acting shocked over the situation, and when Hebe asks where Eros and Psyche are (again, she could have just looked out the window at any time), he's just like "dur idk they just left lol" which Hebe just... buys, I guess.

That's just Persephone but yellow. She's even missing her beauty mark.

See how Apollo put his hand on Zeus' chest/shoulder by the way?

Apparently, despite Mr. Smarter Than Everyone Else trying to pretend it wasn't him, he's able to discern that Zeus is dying from a toxic and rare poison just from touching him. He doesn't even really seem to use his powers, he just touches him and goes "welp he's dead i guess lol don't bother asking me how I know that".

But oh nooo remember that note from before? Well gasp Apollo's gonna use it to frame Hebe! In front of no one else at all!

Hebe of course says she didn't write it, but Apollo continues to try and frame her anyways, even though, again, there's no one else present here, and so it effectively just becomes the most absurd form of gaslighting I've ever seen.

Again, THERE IS NO ONE ELSE HERE IN THE SCENE. He's just trying to claim she did it to absolutely no one at all, in the hopes of... what exactly? That she'll just take the fall for something she knows she didn't do? That she'll somehow be convinced? It's not like Hebe has the same thing going on as Persephone where she has a 'wrathful dark side' he could pin it on, this is just a criminal who just robbed a building pointing at the first person they see and yelling "YOU DID IT!"

All I'm saying is that Apollo would be really bad at Among Us. He'd be the type of player to kill someone, hit the report button, then claim yellow did it which, even if he DID convince the rest of the team, would still get kicked anyways as soon as yellow was proven through the eject to not be the imp and everyone would go "okay cool so yellow wasn't the imp, that means obviously it's purple self-reporting." It's a trick that doesn't even work anymore because of how old it is. Hebe isn't a child here, she's an 18 year old woman who should be fully capable of raising an eyebrow and wondering why Apollo is this quick to accuse her - almost like he's trying to hide the fact that he did it.

But Hebe can't catch onto this, just like Eros and Psyche, she has to act stupid for the sake of the plot.

At first I thought maybe Rachel was trying to do some "whodunit" scenario, but that doesn't work here because we already know who did it. And while there are stories that exist like that that pull it off (ex. Knives Out) the problem with trying to do this the way Rachel did is that the person being framed has to have this thing called motive. The reason why Knives Out and Glass Onion work so well is because the person who was murdered (or conspired against) is someone who is being targeted by multiple people who could all be the murderer. It's quite literally called out in Glass Onion as a form of smart lampshading. "It's like putting a loaded gun on the table, and turning off the lights."

But it doesn't work here because Hebe does not have motive. If you're going to attempt to frame a murder on someone, it has to be someone who would have reasonable motive to commit that murder, even if they didn't actually commit it.

And who among Zeus' children has motive?

What about the war-mongering bloodthirsty god of war who has been regularly sentenced to time in the Mortal Realm to fight in wars in which he's been regularly injured?

What about the chaos-seeking wrathful goddess who would do it to get revenge on the parental figure who cast her aside, or even just for the fun of saying she did it?

Why try and pin it on Hebe, the doting daughter of Zeus who's only had a collective of maybe 20 panels in the entire comic?

But then I realized... it's not Knives Out, it's the fucking Lion King.

Which is just as contrived - if not more - than the assumption this was gonna be some attempt to frame Hebe. It's not. He's literally just trying to keep her from assuming it was him. He could have just as easily played dumb without calling attention to the note but he intentionally went out of his way to try and be Scar from The Lion King , while completely missing the point of why that scene worked in the original movie.

Scar wasn't trying to 'frame' Simba for Mufasa's murder. He was trying to hide the murder, while also attempting to get the only heir to the throne out of the picture, so he passed the guilt of the death onto Simba - a child who, unlike Hebe, wouldn't have the ability to rationalize or realize his uncle his a scumbag - who then ran away from home because he was too terrified to face his family for what happened, assuming that it was all his fault when it wasn't.

That's not how this is panning out here. Hebe is the now 18 year old daughter of Zeus, and not one of his only children. She doesn't even fit into the whole "sons overthrowing their fathers" prophecy like Aries would. Apollo is literally just being a big idiot here by saying "well I'm gonna give you a headstart to run away, because if you stay, I might hurt you" (which btw, should be MORE of a smoking gun that Apollo did it??)

And again, it's all so contrived so that the plot can move forward. "Well I'm going to frame you for this murder, but y'know, you should just leave, I'm not gonna try and press it further lmao"

Again, Apollo is a fucking idiot here, because he just attempted to frame someone who has NO MOTIVE to harm Zeus, to absolutely NO ONE at all who would side with him, only to let her go which would leave her to question why Apollo would try to accuse and harm her in the first place before considering other options. And through ALL this he claims he's the smart one, which I can't even be bothered to "love to hate" because it's written so poorly.

And really it all comes down to how everyone else behaves in relation to Apollo that makes it so stupid and unbelievable. Apollo, you're not smart just because all the characters around you are intentionally being written to be as stupid and non-confrontation as possible. If you can only write a smart villain by making everyone else stupid, you haven't written a smart villain, you've written a dumbass whose victory only happens due to contrived plot convenience. It's not even done well like in Glass Onion, it's just bad writing, full stop.

And who does he call to report this emergency? The satyr police? His son the doctor?

No.

The media. Literally just "hello, the media?? I need your best journalist here stat!"

I need you to understand, even if he were calling a tabloid magazine like The Weekly Nark, you don't just... call a journalist to report a murder. These are not the actions of someone who's trying to absolve himself of guilt, these are the actions of a complete dumbass trying to get news coverage of his trophy kill who would be better off just playing dumb instead of trying to play smart. Even Walter White wasn't this fucking stupid despite all the times he fell on his own sword, Apollo is literally just instigating suspicion towards himself for no reason at all. He's self-reporting so hard and worst of all, you can't even take any of this seriously because of how corny it is. There's no dramatic tension, no stakes, it's just a bunch of characters performing in a really bad stage play and reducing every conflict to "well I guess Zeus is just dead now because no one's bothering to make an effort to stop Apollo or ask questions lmao"

It's truly the epitome of "this plot wouldn't exist if characters would just talk to each other."

But finally, FINALLY we mention the thing this episode is named after, the transition point to Persephone.

Just like with the midseason finale episode, there's a lot to cover here, so I'm gonna get more into it in a part two post.

That said, you can see already this is the messiest, most contrived bullshit to ever wind up in LO. It's trying so hard to be smart and it just comes across as a bunch of toddlers in the world's worst stage play rendition of Clue. None of what was done here was in any way dramatic or tense, it's just a bunch of characters infodumping shit we already know, trying to set up new plot threads that don't make any sense, and allowing one another to get away with what they're doing because they don't bother to even try.

It's completely manufactured, contrived nonsense. It's not "smart", it's not "so dumb it's brilliant", it's just dumb.

youtube

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #this is the comic that bought two eisners #uh i mean *won* two eisners #... no wait i had it right the first time lmao

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ctrl-alt-em · 2 months ago

Text

Communication is Key

AO3

Robin

I am Morven Hellwain. You have carried my spirit in your body for the last two months. As I am sure you have not figured out, when you lose consciousness, I gain control of our shared vessel. I need you to sleep as frequently as possible. Additionally, avoid bodily harm. I do not appreciate having to cast Cure Wounds when I wake.

Dear Morven Hellwain

Are you the reason for all the strange happenings? Did you explode the wolves? Lug says you killed that monster in the bunk house.

I go to sleep every night. I guess it is every other night? I don’t think I can sleep more than that and still help.

Thank you for healing my leg. Happen says he did not aim for me. His sprites played a mean prank.

From Robin Oatcake

Robin

I cannot fathom how you think you, the village idiot, can be of any help. The only way you can help is by ensuring I am in control as much of the time as possible.

As for your initial questions, yes, I am. I cannot imagine anything of note occurring in your proximity without my influence. I am not directly responsible for the wolves’ destruction; the recent unpredictable outcomes of spells is to blame. You need not concern yourself with magic.

Dear Morven Hellwain

I was not the village idiot. That was Young Man Dan. I was the spit-turner before I lost my job seven weeks ago.

I can be a great help! I helped save Lug from those men. I even injured one! And I was the one that got help when that man turned into a monster. Happen said I did a good job. I even helped us meet our friends and join our adventuring party. You are just upset that I can help just as much as you. I understand that. I was jealous of Tilly the spitturn dog too at first.

From Robin Oatcake

Robin

From the other's accounts of the confrontation with the mob, it does not sound like you played a needed role. It is no show of strength or skill to hit a blinded, maimed man with stale bread. As for the combat at Folkmoot, others surely would have heard and come to our aid, supposing I did not defeat the abomination before their arrival. You did nothing a dog would not be capable of. A dog likely would have been of greater help and less of liability.

Robin

You will get us both killed if you disregard my advice. Your 'help' is not needed nor wanted, I assure you.

To Morven Hellwain

I was thinking about back home, all the weird things people kept telling me. Leslie, the head cook, was cross with me. She said I missed work twice and that I insulted her in the market. I had no idea what she was talking about. I assumed she mistook me for someone else and I tried to tell her so. She said I was lying and fired me! It occurred to me that she might not have been lying. Was it you she saw? Are you the reason I lost my job?

From Robin Oatcake

Robin

Of all the things you could waste my time with, you chose this? Your 'job' is hardly worth the ink we are wasting writing about it. I will acknowledge that I was in control of our body several times before our departure. I did lose my patience with several of the dimwitted residents of the village so I very well may have offended the head 'cook'. I would not consider the loss of any great consequence. If anything, it is beneficial. Your 'occupation' would have delayed your departure for Folkmoot. You may thank me for my help in your next note. Hopefully, the writing will tire you.

To Morven

And what about my house? Did you tell the apothecary she could give it to her goat? If you wanted to run me out of my village so bad, you could have written to me earlier.

From Robin

Robin

If I recall correctly, and I do, the old hag asked me, "How I am supposed to keep a roof over my goat's head if you don't pay?" To that, I said, "Give the fucking goat my roof. I don't care." And I continue to not care. Your hovel was little more than a goat's shelter anyway.

I have spoken with Happen and he is aware of a root that induces a harmless sleep state. I have procured some. It is in the outer pouch of our bag.

To Morven

It is not our bag. It is my bag. And I don't need anything to help me sleep. A long day of traveling with my friends does that enough. Seeing as I have no work or home to return to, I will be with them for the foreseeable future regardless of our mission.

If you want to be helpful, Morven, you will tell me how to use magic myself and how I get you out of me.

From Robin

Robin

You cannot use magic. It would require innate talent or years of study, neither of which you have. Unless such fantasies lull you into a slumber, do not concern yourself with such endeavors.

I am looking into potential methods to separate us. However, until magic has been returned to its original state and I gather more information on what caused my spirit to enter your body in the first place, no significant progress can be made. You need not be involved.

To Morven

How can I not get involved when I already am? You’re in my head! You walk around in my body half the time! I should be the only one in my body!

And how do you know I don’t have inate innate talent? Maybe I just haven’t had need to use it.

From Robin

Robin

Knock yourself out as soon as you see this. Lug, Cressida, and Willowfine have been captured by a group of zealots and I need to go save their skins.

To Morven

No need to worry. Me and Happen did it ourselves. You should have seen how far Lug hit this one guy with his hammer once we got him out.

From Robin

Robin

That is not what I told you to do. You will get us both killed.

Willowfine said she saw you use magic. I can only assume you located a scroll and stumbled your way into using it correctly.

To Morven

You were wrong, Morven. I do have a talent for magic, no scroll needed, whatever those are. Mine is not as pretty or orderly as yours but I can cast spells. Cressida thinks that might be why you didn’t have trouble casting in my body.

You may thank me for my help in your next note. I will not ask you to knock yourself out because I have manners.

From Robin

Robin

I have spoken with Cressida and Willowfine regarding your spelling casting. As must I detest to acknowledge it, I suppose it makes sense. Either my spirit brought my magic potential with it or my spirit was attracted to your magic potential. I do believe the first one is the more likely of the two. It still stands that between the two of us, I am the more proficient and thus should handle any and all confrontations.

To Morven

Willowfine says we should try to come to a compromise. She said our attempts to screw with each other and limit the other’s time awake is annoying.

How about a deal? If I find myself in situations that I cannot handle, I will find a way to allow you to take control if you agree to cease trying to stay awake for days on end. If the group stops to sleep, you sleep and let me take control.

From Robin

Robin

After much strong arming from the others, I agree to your terms.

Robin

Why am I not surprised you have Wild Magic? Of all sorcerous origins, you draw power from the most unruly and unpredictable.

With that said, I request that you cast something that will offer you improved defense or evasion when in a confrontation. You cannot rely on Acid Splash only.

- Morven

#oxventure wyrdwood #oxventure #fanfic #robin oatcake #morven hellwain

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bagerfluff · 9 months ago

Text

Trapped By Your Hate(And Snow)

Nico Di Angelo x Male Half-Blood Reader

Prompt - Snowfall - February Prompts

You cursed in Ancient Greek as you tried to open the door to the small cabin.

“No good, guess the snow came down really heavy last night”, you said as you moved away from the door and looked at Nico. You and Nico had been sent on a quest to get something for a God.

That puzzled you since you and Nico never really got along. Well you wanted to but Nico didn’t. You had tried to befriend the boy but Nico never showed signs of wanting to be your friend

He always ignored you, never talked to you, and avoided you when he could. You never understood why he did that.

Did you do something wrong?

Even if you did you would never know because Nico wouldn't talk to you. So when you two got sent on this quest you were a little worried. When on a quest you need to trust and be able to communicate with the person or people you were sent with.

But Nico rarely talks to you.

At first you thought this might be a good thing. You might finally be able to talk to Nico. You didn’t want to admit it but you had a crush on Nico. Though you barely knew him you found him cute.

His black fluffy hair, dark obsidian eyes, his pale skin. Though most people were weirded out by him, you weren’t. If only Nico would let you become his friend.

But at last that didn’t happen.

Nico did speak to you on the quest unless absolutely necessary. That made you feel sad. You just wish Nico would let you talk to him. Just long enough to find out if you didn’t anything.

Maybe he just didn’t want to be friends with you. But that didn’t mean he had to be mean and give you the cold shoulder. They were multiple people at camp that you weren’t friends with.

But you could still be nice and hold a conversation with them. Nico could do the same too. But not why with you. The whole quest got worse when it suddenly started snowing.

It was February so that wasn’t surprising, but what was that it didn’t just snow. It wasn’t a little bit of snow, no it was a snow storm. Right out of nowhere.

At that moment you wished that Half-Bloods could use phones. If you had a phone you would have known that a blizzard was about to hit right where you and Nico were at.

You two were able to find a cabin in the middle of a forest and get inside before it got really bad. You two warmed up and slept. Only to find out that you were trapped in the cabin because it snowed that much.

Curse the Gods.

Nico shook his head after he heard you say that. “Let me try”, Nico said as he walked over to the door and tried to open it. You briefly wonder how Nico could open it if you couldn’t. Nico was skinny. But then you remember that Nico was really strong.

He’s beat you in more sword fights then you care to admit. Nico tried to open the door for a few minutes before he stepped away. “I’ll just shadow travel use out of here”, Nico said but as he went to grab your arm you pulled away.

“No way, you shadow traveled yesterday. You need more rest”, Nico glared at you, he was perfectly fine. He could shadow travel and then you two could continue the quest. But you were holding your ground.

You knew that Nico needed rest after shadow traveling, you knew that if he did it too much he could die. Though Nico didn’t seem to care about you, you cared about him.

Nico tried to get you to shadow travel but you held your ground. Eventually Nico gave up. You could tell Nico was mad, “It’s fine Nico, the snow will melt by tomorrow”, you tried to reason with Nico. Nico seemed to calm down. You two were close to the location of the item that you two needed to get.

So it was fine, it was only a day delay.

Nico sat on the bed that the cabin had. The cabin was really small. There was a twin size bed in one corner. The other had a couch with a table in front of it.

Then in between the two there was a fireplace with a rug in front of it. The rug was about five feet away from the fireplace so it wouldn't catch on fire.

Then in the corners on each side of the door there was a small table with a chair. There was a window that you could look out of. If there wasn’t a wall of snow outside of it. Then on the other side were just a couple of household tools. A broom, a stick to poke at the fire, and a snow rake.

Like that would help.

There was a mountain of snow outside the door and the windows. You wondered if this could be the work of a God. It made sense, it rarely snowed this much in February.

Maybe a God was trying to stop you from getting the item. If that was the case then it was a pretty bad plan. Like you said, the snow will probably melt by tomorrow.

You walked over to the couch and sat on it. It was still as stiff when you slept on it when you got here. Since there was only one bed one of you had to sleep on the couch.

Nico had volunteered to sleep on the couch but you said you would do it. Before Nico could argue you walked over to the couch, laid on it, and fell asleep. It was quite cold in the cabin. It was made of wood and had no electricity.

So the only things that kept you and Nico warm were your clothes and two blankets you found in the corner with the household supplies

You had on normal clothes. Pants, shirt, shoes, and a jacket. Nico had on what he always wore. You wondered how many shirts he had that had a skull on them. You bet that looking into Nico’s closet was like looking into the night sky.

Dark with a hint of white.

You wondered who made this thing. Did anyone even own it? You figured it was better not to question it. Just be happy that it existed. Nico sat on the bed and started going through the bag. You did the same.

You sat on the couch and started looking through your bag. You were looking for food and wondering if Nico was doing the same. When Nico got up he walked over to the fire and started trying to light it.

So he wasn’t looking for food, or maybe he was and just didn’t find any. You continued to look in your bag. You found two water bottles, they were your last ones.

You were lucky that there were two. You also found a bag of chips, not small but not big either, and an apple and orange. That was all. It wasn’t much, and you two should try to save as much as you can.

“Did you find any food?” You asked Nico as you walked over to him with the apple and orange in your hands. Nico was now sitting in front of the fire. To the left of the fire was a small pile of logs and sticks.

It wasn’t much but it should be enough to last the day. You sat next to Nico and held your hands out, letting Nico pick what he wanted. Nico glanced over and picked up the orange before looking back at the fire.

The fire was small but it was already warming you up. “No, how about you?” Nico started to peel his orange and you looked at your apple. “No. Only this, a bag of chips, and two water bottles. You took a bite out of your apple while Nico cursed and peeled his orange.

It was quiet after that, you could tell that Nico didn’t want to talk so you didn’t. It was you starting most conversations between the two of you. You wanted to say something but you didn’t, just ate your apple.

You thought about why Nico seemed to hate you, the one thing you didn’t want to think about. It made you sad and angry. What did you do to Nico? You’ve been nice to him since you've met him yet he always gives you the cold shoulder.

You’ve tried talking to his friends, the few people he hangs out with. But they either knew nothing, or lied. Some said they knew nothing, the others said the same thing but you could tell that they were lying.

You wondered if Nico was scared of you, that was pushed over the table quickly. You tried to think of any reason Nico might hate you but nothing worked. You wondered if Nico just hated you. Nothing caused it.

He just did.

Somehow that hurt more.

When Nico was down with his orange he threw the peels into the fire and walked back over to his bed. Sitting in the middle and leaning his back against the headrest.

You glanced over at Nico before looking back at the fire. The cabin was slowly engulfed in the smell of oranges. You thought about throwing your apple core in there but then you realized that the mix of smells might not be the best. So you just held it in your lap.

You knew you liked Nico.

You’ve known you’ve liked guys for years. You wondered if that's what made Nico hate you. That you were a guy that liked guys. No one else minded, many people at Camp Half-Blood were queer.

Nico never seemed to hate them.

Last you heard some of his friends are queer. You were ninety percent sure Percy was bisexual too, and Nico didn’t hate him. They were friends.

So that couldn’t be the reason Nico didn’t like you. Did he even hate you? He just didn’t want to hang out with you or talk to you. Maybe he just didn’t want to be friends.

He never said anything rude to you or went out of his way to hurt you.

This was all so confusing.

You shook your head and threw your apple core into the fire. You didn’t need to think about this, you needed to think about something else. You were stuck with Nico in a cabin for an entire day.

Maybe this was the perfect chance to try to ask Nico why he always gave you the cold shoulder. You looked over at Nico. He was staring in front of him while playing with his skull ring.

He seemed to be in deep thought, like you were a few minutes ago. Nico somehow looked at peace like this. He was always tense, like he was waiting for something to happen.

But now he looked a little at peace.

But he was still tense, you could tell. Though Nico wasn’t your friend you could read him well. That made you sound like a stalker. You weren’t, you just found yourself watching Nico whenever you weren’t doing anything.

You watched him train, talk with friends, and just chill. That definitely made you sound like a stalker. You have learned the little things Nico does depending on how he feels.

Like how his eyebrows crease when he’s thinking.

Like they are doing right now.

The way Nico tended to fidget with his ring when he was nervous.

Like what he was doing right now.

The way that Nico never made eye contact with somewhen when he didn’t want to talk to them. Nico’s social battery ran out quickly so most of the time he was talking with people he wanted to leave.

Like he does whenever you talk to him.

You noticed all of these things, and many more. You didn’t want to think about them, they just made you sadder. Being in this cabin with Nico made you sad.

You hadn’t noticed but you were still staring at Nico, and he had noticed you. You blushed when you noticed and you turned away. Nico didn’t say anything, he just went back to playing with his ring.

The question was on the tip of your tongue. You wanted to ask for so long and this was the perfect time to. Nowhere for Nico to run, no one to interrupt, it was perfect.

But you were scared.

Did you really want the answer to your question? Plus if Nico said he hated you and it was true there was nowhere for you to do. You were stuck here with him.

If Nico hated you, you thought you would cry. You would cry for someone that didn’t even like you and someone you didn’t even know. “Nico?” You said and Nico made a grunting noise, telling you that he was listening.

“Do you hate me?” You asked, you hadn’t looked at Nico but you could feel Nico’s gaze on you. You were looking at the couch. The blanket that you used last night was half on the couch and half on the floor.

“I don’t hate you”, Nico responded but that made you mad. You knew that the anger was unplaced. But you needed to feel something, anything to get rid of the feeling of dread and sadness.

“Then why do you ignore me? Then why do you never talk to me? Why do you avoid me? Then why do you give me the cold shoulder? What have I even done to you?” By the end of your rant you were now standing and staring at Nico.

Nico was staring back at you.

To anyone else it would look like Nico was a statue, like he didn’t hear why you just said. But you noticed that Nico’s eyes had widened slightly and that he had stopped fidgeting with his ring.

You noticed this, you always did.

Nico looked down at his lap and sighed. You almost didn’t hear the sigh, it was that quiet. “I’m sorry”, Nico whispered, he didn’t look up at you and that made you more mad. He couldn’t even look at you when he apologized.

You let out a sigh of your own, it was louder and you tried to control your anger. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. The reason I was giving you a cold shoulder was”, Nico stopped talking and looked up at you.

Nico didn’t say anything but he opened his mouth a few times and closed it. Making him look like a fish out of water. You didn’t want to hear Nico speak, he couldn’t look at you when saying it nor could he even tell you the reason he was being so cold to you.

You just shook your head and walked to the couch, telling Nico that you didn’t want to hear him. Nico got the hint and didn’t say anything.

Just went back to staring and playing with his ring. You walked over to the couch and laid on it. You laid on your back and stared at the ceiling. So you didn’t get your answer, but Nico said that he didn’t hate you.

That didn’t make you feel better. He couldn’t tell you the reason he acted so cold to you. Your anger was still there but you were more sad. Why did Nico hate you? Would he ever tell you? That also didn’t remove your crush on him.

You still liked him.

The rest of the day went by uneventfully.

Once you got hungry you threw Nico the bag of chips and a water bottle. You didn’t feel like eating. You did drink some of your water but that was it.

Neither you nor Nico spoke to each other.

When either of you wanted to sit by the fire you either went it turns or didn’t talk to each other. Soon the sun set but the snow was still blocking the door. It had gone down but there was still too much snow to get out.

So you’d have to wait until morning to get out. It got colder when the sun went down but you couldn’t keep the fire on all night. So once you and Nico got tired you extinguished the fire. That just made everything colder.

You tried to sleep but found it hard. The thoughts from your ‘fight’ with Nico were still in your head.

Plus it was really cold.

You tried to curl up to conserve heat but that only helped a bit. You rolled over and looked at Nico. He was facing away from you. He had the blanket over himself all up to his neck.

But he was shaking.

Though you were still a little mad at Nico you felt bad for him. You still cared for him. You sighed and got up. Bringing your blanket with you, you walked over to Nico.

You knew Nico was awake, you could see his body tense when you walked over to him. It was a short walk so you were next to him in a matter of seconds.

You then removed the blanket from your shoulders, immediately getting colder and shivering, and placing it on Nico. You draped it over Nico, making sure that it was the same as the first one.

You looked at the side of Nico’s head. You didn’t know what you were expecting. But Nico didn’t do anything. You started to walk away when Nico whispered something.

You weren’t sure if you were meant to hear it, but you did. “I’m sorry Y/n. I like you”, you were so shocked that you stopped walking. You were in front of the couch when you stopped.

You just stared ahead of you. Did Nico really say that? It sounded like that. But it was so quiet and maybe Nico was half asleep. You shook your head and laid back down.

Maybe this was as dream

When you woke up you were sure that you were an ice cube.

When you opened your eyes you saw that both blankets were on top of you. You sat up and looked around confused. You looked out the window and saw that it was morning, maybe mid day, and the snow was gone.

Why didn’t Nico wake you up?

You turned your head to see that Nico was sitting in front of a raging fire. “Why are we still here?” You asked and Nico looked a bit shocked. He looked over at you, “When I woke up I had both blankets and you looked like an ice cub. So I light the fire and put both blankets on you”, Nico looked back at the fire.

Nico did that, for you?

Maybe Nico didn’t hate you. Maybe what he said last night was true. You rubbed your eyes. You felt like an ice cube but you hoped that you didn’t look like one.

You stood up and walked over to Nico, bringing one of the blankets with you. You sat down next to Nico and threw the blanket over him. Nico didn’t move away from you like he normally did. He stayed there.

That made you feel happy.

“No point in both of us looking like ice cubes”, you said. Though the snow had melted it was still pretty cold in the cabin. You and Nico sat in front of the fire saying nothing.

Though it was more peaceful then the other times. “I’m sorry”, Nico said. It sounded like he was still upset about yesterday. Nico didn’t really sound upset, but if you listened you could hear it.

Though Nico was still tense and he still didn��t talk to you. “It’s okay Nico”, you leaned closer to Nico and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Nico tensed more but he didn’t move or say anything.

“I like you too”.

#nico di angelo x male reader #nico di angelo x reader #nico di angelo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x male reader #pjo hoo toa #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #pjo series #heros of olympus x reader #heros of olympus #male reader imagines #male reader

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dominophile · 10 months ago

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💙🍃Branch Dating Headcanons🍃💙

Character: Branch

Warnings: small talk of abandonment issues, nothing major

Nsfw?: none

This is for a friend. The reason I ever actually got into Trolls was because she told me all about how hot Branch was.

I also very much want to headcanon this guy I have so many thoughts.

Note: My headcanons will always include my species headcanons too, which includes but isn't limited to different types of tails, claws, hair, etc.

Now for the man of the hour, Branch!

Branch is the perfect man

I mean kind of

From the first day you started dating, this man has been super protective of you

He doesn't want anything bad to happen to you, even if you're definitely safe already, this guy is taking zero chances

Probably at some point tried to keep you in his bunker for "precautionary reasons"

Look it's the thought that counts, he loves you

Now let's not forget the abandonment issues

He's got a genuine fear that people he loves will all leave him, one way or another

Reassure him you're not going anywhere, please, he needs it

You don't have to be with him 24/7 of course

He understands more than anyone the need to be alone or do your own thing, trust me

If you want to hang out with other Trolls, I doubt he would mind

He doesn't like groups much, but he might appreciate the sentiment of you inviting him regardless

Say "I love you"

You might just have to he the first to do so

He loves you so fucking much, but "What if that scares them away??"

Just tell him how much you love him every so often, it helps

On a similar note, communicate!

Communicate how you feel, and encourage him to do the same

Keeping secrets and emotions from him could easily come back to bite you

Even if you don't have bad intentions, he might assume you do

It's not that he doesn't trust you, he just assumes the worst sometimes

That said, he's not sure how to share his own emotions sometimes either

This guy has spent a long time avoiding every other living being and doesn't often understand the difference between talking to himself, and talking to you

Social cues too, don't assume he knows what you're feeling, because as much as he tries with you all his new friends, he still gets it wrong a lot

Work with him, you'll get there

Branch enjoys spending time with you, but he's wary about physical touch

Ever met someone who hates being touched but is also touched starved? That's Branch!

If he wants physical affection or something of the sort, he'll come to you

You can also ask him. He loves and cares about you and even if it's not his favorite, if it makes you happy he'll allow it

He will absolutely protectively wrap his tail around you though if you guys are sitting next to each other

Who cares if you're all alone? Feel safe damn it

You're the only person who can do that, he knows you won't hurt him

If you also dislike physical affection, you two can just vibe in each other's company

Branch overworks himself sometimes, and normally would fight through exhaustion, but if you're around, he wouldn't mind a quick nap

You'll watch his back won't you?

He wouldn't mind if you fell asleep with him too

All in all though, he's a good boyfriend

He's thoughtful

He's caring

He's protective

And he really really loves you so much

He thinks you make him a better person

Like he was incomplete before you came around

"Meeting you was like finding the last missing piece of a puzzle."

Man that's cheesy. But sweet.

Oh maybe that was just a set up to get you to do a puzzle with him

Eh still sweet

I also think he would appreciate if you made him coffee in the mornings sometimes

If you're a coffee person, have some too!

Tea person? Or anything else? He'll stock up on what you like once he realizes you like it

He sleeps in late sometimes though, if you're a morning person you're fending for yourself with drinks

Other Trolls are happy seeing you with him during the day also

Especially Poppy

"So happy to see you branching out!!"

Bunker Bucket List: Learn to love again

Check ✅

#trolls #fanfic #headcanon #writer #writers on tumblr #writing #trolls x reader #trolls branch #branch #dating headcanons #I took inspiration from both the movies and the series #reauests are open #writeblr #branch x reader

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gloryy-vs · 2 years ago

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Huntress’ Call

Chapter 2 : People You Know

chapter 1 || next || chapter 4

characters: Neteyam x reader, Jake, Neytiri, Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk, Sky People, Quaritch

ratings: sfw, violence, war, angsty, enemies to friends to lovers, warrior, aggression

characters: Neteyam x reader, Jake, Neytiri, Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk, Sky People, Quaritch

Your Ikran landed last, and you hopped off quickly, bow in hand as you could already see your mother pacing anxiously with your father trying to comfort her. The beads in your hair clicked and clacked with each harsh step, and your mother turned her head. Her face went stiff, “Do you wish to meet Eywa? Why have we not received word that you’d be-“ Your father placed a firm hand on her shoulder, calming her as Jake approached with a smile.

“It’s nice to see you two again. I was the one who called for her, she did amazing today. I should’ve done it in advance but we really needed her today. Which brings me to my next point.” Jake said with respect to you in his voice. “I’d like to invite her to our scouts, my family and I really appreciate all the help….” His voice trailed off as he walked away with your family to their hut. You were left standing alone, rubbing away the fatigue from your limbs. Your brother was getting patched up by Mo’at and Kiri, while Tuk was racing around with Neytiri. Lo’ak and Neteyam stood together, and the eldest looked stiff and conflicted as he passionately explained something.

Tilting your head, your braids tickled against your lower back, ending just to where your hips were. Making your way to the pair, you stood next to Neteyam, and Lo’ak slapped his arm quickly to shut him up, nodding to your direction.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” You said, eyes trailing from Neteyams toned chest to his eyes. His eyes were warm fro a split second before he realized you looked up at the same time he did. “No, no you’re good sis.” Lo’ak said kindly. You remember when he first gave you that nickname when you three were kids. Back then you three were inseparable, Neteyam and you were stitched the the hip. Neytiri and your mother cracked jokes about you two mating, but now it seems like the chemistry faded. Your demeanor changed ever since you hit 15, and Neteyam was 16. Now at 19, and 20, you two were simply awkward around each other. It bothered you, but you supposed the older brother title got to him, and caused him to drift from you. While you had to keep up with the fierce female warrior trope everyone placed on you the past year and a half ago.

“Well…today went well. You two did very well with communicating, and..telling your dad about my brother.” You said, awkwardly thanking Neteyam and Lo’ak for altering Jake about your brother being in trouble.

“Not a problem.” Neteyam said curtly, nodding his head in the process and he avoided looking at you. Lo’ak could sense the tension, scratching the sides of his head uncomfortably. “I think I forgot to tell dad something, I’ll be back.” He said, walking backwards slowly before turning around fully. Neteyam tried to follow without saying a word to you, but your hand gripped onto his arm tightly.

“What is the matter with us? Why have you been avoiding my existence. The last four years we have been nothing..” You said, visibly irritated.

“We have always been nothing. I don’t know why you’d assume tha-“ He started, but swiped his hand down his face in irritation that matched yours. “You’ve changed. Not in a bad sense but..” His eyes raked down your body and back at your piercing gold eyes. “It all just changed. It’s not the same.” Neteyam said, holding his arms out to make some kind of point that it was obvious.

“What?! Because we’ve both matured? Well if we wanna talk about maturity you’re being pretty childish.” You said, offended he’d even try and blame a natural princess for the reason why he was distancing himself.

It was true though, it was a childish move but he had nothing else to blame his distance on. He was just afraid of not matching your ferocity. You stepped closer to the chiefs son, pressing your chest against his. He was intimated at first but countered back, his face contorting to a stern expression. “What’re you doing.” He asked, words slipping past his slightly bared teeth.

“You don’t get uncomfortable with me this close, don’t wanna get any distance now?” You said, stepping closer each time he tried to step back.

Neteyam hissed lightly, “I don’t wanna play these damn games with you!” You responsed with a hiss from the back of your throat, “Then don’t lie to me!”

He scoffed, laughing as he turned his head away from you. It was far from a friendly laugh, but he knew you were testing him. “Then don’t ask me again.” He said, now really towering over you, his eyes having a hint of aggression behind them.

Your lip twitched, wanting to hiss in the elders face and show him you weren’t going to walk off scared, but that’s exactly what you did. You huffed, whipping your head around. The colorful beads in your hair whipped against his chest, and Neteyam jumped back, looking down at the beads at the ends of your hair and then back at you, seeing you walk away with anger in each step.

You ripped open the covering to your family’s tent, anger seething through you. Your parents stood up immediately, and Jake Sully followed shortly after. “My daughter, what is the matter?” Your father asked, a deep worry laced in his words. He stepped towards you, your back facing the rest of the audience. “That skxawng, Neteyam! He’s not like his old self. Nothing like that boy I grew up with!” You cried out, not out of sadness but out of anger.

Your father looked to Jake, worry in his eyes. Jake already knew the reasoning behind it, and had no experience with speaking on love and anything that was overly sappy with his children. It was a sensitive task he left to Neytiri. Your mother took a deep breath, placing a hand on Jake, “Thank you Jake; it was wonderfully catching up but, as you can see we have a bit of a….problem.” Your mother said, her eyes darting to your disheveled frame.

Jake nodded with a ghost of a laugh on his face; understanding the situation of having a daughter who could barely comprehend her emotions. The Leader left, thanking you once again before returning to his own family.

“Come my dear, sit and let me redbraid your hair. There is no thought to stress about young men. They will come and go.” Your mother said, pushing you to sit down so she could begin undoing your braids and beads. You wiped at your face and saw your father return with a stack of wet rags to remove the war paint from your azure skin.

It wasn’t often that you were doted on by your parents, but they respected on how well you grew up, a true warrior that fought for her people. Your mother put your old colorful beads aside, and instead wove in golden hand made charms and golden beads to keep a theme with your hair. “You grew to be a fine young woman. Have you not heard the talk of finding your mate?” Your mother brought up, but she made it obvious on what she was trying to say. It didn’t make you feel any better.

“Mother, not now. I cannot.” You said, holding your arm out as you father wiped away the paste. His eyes rose and met with your mothers. She urged him to say something by giving him a strained look.

“Jake Sully wants you to leave with him and his family. To the Metkayina.” Your head shot up, arm retracting instantly.

Your mothers mouth fell open, hand still on your hair in fear of what her husband just revealed. She shook her head aggressively, “Ma Tsarim! You were not supposed to say!” She said anxiously, already expecting your reaction to be negative.

“What do you mean?! He wants me to just leave the forest?! My home?! His home!?” Your eyes were wide, and you attempted to get up, but your mother yanked you down by the strand of hair she was braiding against your scalp. “He is discussing it with his own kin tonight. We agreed that it would be the best for you. To keep you safe. Ever since what almost to happened to his own children with that demon Quaritch.” He said, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of tears filling your eyes.

“I forgot all about that…” You said quietly. You didn’t get to know any details other than what your parents shared with you. In short you knew the Recom Avatars were hunting Jake and didn’t intend to stop.

“It is the best for you to avoid the forest for the time being. Te Suli announced to us that he will pass down the title of Olo’eyktan to me. He trusts this family yo watch over his people. Though I may bear the title of leader, what is best for the people is Jake.” Your father explained, stress coating his face. Yours doubled his action, tears flowing over your waterline and streaming down your face.

You felt your mothers hand on your shoulder, silently saying you were free to get up. The four braids that she wove dawned the golden charms and beads while the rest of your hair was down, naturally curly and soft like your mothers was. You wiped your face, holding her hand as a thank you before leaving the tent to process your thoughts.

You slumped against a tree, tears now free to fall for as long as you needed them to. You choked on your tears, the idea of leaving your home of beautiful nature for a place you weren’t even guaranteed refugee to. Especially away from your family, as they were left here in such a dangerous setting. You brought you knees beneath your chin, resting your head on the right knee cap, sniffling as you thought of each memory you made here. A hand rested on your head, and you felt someone’s pretense kneel next to you. It was Neteyam.

“I’m not happy about it either.” He said softly. You could see the tear stains on his face, but he dawned a weak smile in your direction.

“You know one thing about this life is that destiny always finds us to end up in the same situation” He said, eyes focusing on anything on the ground. You wrapped your hand around his wrist, bringing it down to hold it to your chest.

Taking your gaze from down at your legs; to his eyes. You desperately begged and questioned if this was a safe space for you. Neteyams lip quivered, nodding curtly. At that moment tears fell, and wouldn’t stop coming. You sobbed into his hand, and held onto one of your hands comfortingly. “We’ll be in it together. It’ll be fine.” Neteyam said, keeping his cool to not trigger anymore tears from you. It was his job to be the comfort, the mediator, and the protector.

This was the first, of what you could only guess, many times you let your facade fall in front of him. Time can only tell if he’ll do the same.

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onestepbackwards · 1 year ago

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Love That Bites Pt. 9

Hiiii! Welcome to part 9 of my Dracula x Reader fic! I hope you enjoy this chapter, though I apologize if it feels kinda wonky. I finally got a new pc built during writing, and a bunch of other stuff has happened. It was hard to piece it all together with so much happening in my life. I hope you all enjoy it though! Just in time for Nocturne to release :D Summary: After arriving in Dracula's castle, you can't help but feel you are in a dream, though you certainly wish it was to avoid the awkward air. Meanwhile, Dracula contemplates his next moves. After all, he's sure he's bound to be the center of the world's gossip mill when they find out he's caring for a Belmont.

CW: Anxiety, references to bad home life, injuries mentioned, blood drinking

Word Count: 4216 words! Like my work? Come check me out here: Link Likes and reblogs appreciated!

Tag List: @Onewiththebeanbag @starrlo0ver @sleepyendymion @dame-sunflowers @sapphicsfordracula @ursamajor17 @maorizon @marshmelloe Wanna be on the taglist, let me know in the comments!

First: Here Last: Here Next: Here! --

Sorting his affairs turned out to be a much more annoying endeavor than Dracula originally intended.

Despite this, he wasn’t all too surprised.

For the past few centuries, despite being the King of the Night, he has had very little presence in paranormal societies.

Every time he had been revived since this cursed cycle began, he had barely been alive long before a Belmont or some other hero would come and battle him to the death.

Even if for all intents and purposes he was the King of Vampires, he has had little or no time to rule.

He absentmindedly swirled his glass, before taking another sip.

There were two probable scenarios because of this.

Vampire covens and supernatural communities were in chaos.

Or-

They were in various communities across the globe, staking territory. He doubted any of them would be happy he was back to rule.

No one liked their own power to be threatened, after all.

Even when he was actively King, vampire covens and paranormal communities weren’t always happy to serve him. Many just did for his power, or the safety he offered.

Some felt the call of power from him and Castlevania itself. Others are uniquely tied to him and his castle. Those ones he hardly had to worry about.

No, he had a feeling his return wouldn’t be as happily accepted outside his usual circles. Most would probably only lend him an ear since he was Death’s master, and Chaos’ champion.

Did not mean they would be cooperative or happy.

He let out an agitated sigh. No doubt being killed over and over made him appear weak. Dracula suspected many would be aiming for his throat and his throne.

Nevermind the fact he was almost always slain just after being revived, before his powers ever had a chance to settle.

And he was sure many underestimated the power of the Belmonts. He may have always just woken up around each battle, but each Belmont still had power beyond belief.

“What a nuisance.” He muttered, downing more blood.

While normally he would handle this himself, he couldn’t afford to sit idly and wait for such pathetic attempts on his life and power from want-to-be rulers.

Dracula had a guest this time. He had you.

Back when his precious Lisa had still been alive, he had been alive for several centuries at that point. Almost every underling knew she was off limits, lest they desire something more painful than death itself.

Even those he knew wanted his head knew better than to go for his wife.

Lisa had been left alone by his servants and other creatures of the night. Ironic how it was the humans that took her from him.

The gall and irony humans had to call him and his own monsters after that. Bah.

The glass in his hand cracked, and he looked at it in annoyance.

Banishing it, another drink was brought to him as he continued to think.

Things were different this time. At least back then, no one dared to lay a finger on his wife. But now?

He had no doubts a target would be on both his head, and the Little Belmont’s.

Dracula was sure word was already spreading across the castle, and no doubt would soon do so to other communities nearby.

‘The Dracula? Taking in another human?’

He can already imagine the gossip.

The scowl on his face darkened.

It would only be a matter of time before word reached across the globe.

He knew you could take care of yourself, sure. You had told him several stories of hunts you had when he had been imprisoned, usually involving the death of a beast hunting innocents.

However, there was no way in hell you would survive in your current state. Whatever had happened, had intended to either permanently harm, or to kill you.

Dracula’s free hand gripped his throne tight, and he felt the arm of it splinter slightly.

How you received those injuries was a whole different issue that he would have to investigate later on. An issue he planned on thoroughly going over.

So for now, you were under his official protection while you healed.

Unless of course, you decided to go against your word. Though, Dracula heavily doubted you would do so.

You really were different then those who came before you.

This would not be easy, but when had it ever been? He was just thankful you knew how to defend yourself, and had the means to do so.

Once word got out, and you were healed, he also had suspicions you would be hunted. Either as a Belmont, Dracula’s human, or a ‘traitor’.

He may not have been privy to any sort of personal information regarding hunters and their circles, but he knew back a few centuries ago, helping out a ‘monster’ was a death sentence. It did not matter if they didn’t wish to harm humans, simply helping a beast was an act against god and humanity itself.

Hunters and the church considered such a person no better than the very beasts they hunted at that point.

Dracula doubted that sentiment was completely gone, even now in more modern times.

Reaching up, Dracula pinched the bridge of his nose in thought.

He had someone making potions for you at least. Hopefully you wouldn’t be badly injured for too long.

After that, he wondered if you would be opposed to staying here at his castle? You didn’t seem disgusted by it, nor did the castle seem to try and push you away like it did other intruders.

Those who were not welcome usually felt such pushes on their mind and body. Only the strong willed could push onwards past it.

Even his castle seemed to see you as a guest.

The castle bent to his will, sure, but it was still a being of Chaos. This small revelation also intrigued him, how such a being seemed not to mind your presence.

Perhaps it was that it also didn’t consider you a threat? It was obvious you currently had no intentions to fight him.

Dracula’s eyes narrowed, a presence pulling him out of his thoughts.

The room grew darker, and a familiar figure rose from the shadows. It flew around his throne, before giving a bow in front of him.

“Good to see you back, Master.”

Death.

Dracula looked over the divine being that had worked under him for centuries. His second in command, his devout lieutenant.

Dracula gave the being a brief nod of acknowledgment, and Death rose.

Even after all the deaths Dracula had endured, Death itself still remained loyal after all these years. He supposed he should count it as a blessing now.

“Report?” Dracula then idly asked, drinking from his glass.

“Things are running smoothly. Everyone is settling in quickly, as usual my lord.”

Dracula hummed.

“Good. Good.” He mumbled, mind still partially elsewhere.

A moment passed, and Death gripped his scythe.

“Master, if I may be so bold…”

Dracula held back a sigh, already having an inkling to what he was going to say.

“Do you think it is wise to have a hunter, let alone a Belmont residing in the castle?”

There it was. He knew his subordinates would be asking sooner or later. He wasn’t particularly surprised Death was the first to make an inquiry.

“They pose no threat. This Belmont is… different from the others. I would like to speak with them properly about our standing with one another as soon as they are recovered.”

He then looked Death in the face.

“They are not to be harmed while under my care. Do I make myself clear?”

Death studied him for a moment, probably wondering if he had a few screws loose, before nodding his head.

“As you wish, milord.”

Death was silent, and a beat passed. Dracula hoped his warning managed to sink into the other entity’s skull.

He was no stranger to the fact Death was his most avid supporter. Although Death had always followed his orders, the entity didn’t shy away from making its own decisions if he felt it was best for his master.

Staying within Dracula’s orders, but bending the rules just enough to do his own thing if he could get away with it.

Typically Dracula didn’t mind. Death was his most trusted lieutenant for a reason.

However, he couldn’t help but feel Death may try and get around this one rule if it felt it was best.

As much as he hated it, he would have to keep an eye on all his close subordinates.

Dracula tried not to focus on the growing migraine building in his head.

“Now, what of the vampire covens across the earth?”

Death gave him a subtle crooked grin, and Dracula had a sinking feeling he would need another drink before returning to see you.

—

Dracula’s castle was far more pleasant than you would like to admit.

Your brain was in and out of a fog, but even then you could appreciate just how nice the guest room and washroom alone were.

You almost felt like royalty with how classy and intricate the rooms were, and how they had convenient modern touches.

Never had you stayed somewhere so elaborate and fancy. All the hotels you have been in couldn’t even come close to compare.

Even now as you laid in the giant bed with its soft, velvet sheets, you couldn’t help but be amazed.

Kinda ironic, the home of your ‘enemy’ was way better than any place you had ever stayed at.

Besides maybe your own home before your step family took over, you supposed, though that was a long time ago.

Slowly rolling onto your back, you winced as your wounds flared and your stomach churned. You continued to admire your setting.

The bed had a beautiful silk canopy around it, and you still couldn’t help but be enamored by it.

Or by it all, really. Even if it was a bit overwhelming.

…Just how long has it been?

You had been in and out of sleep, occasionally slipping into a doze before startling awake. The time was lost to you.

In retrospect, you couldn’t help it. Your instincts were going haywire from… well, everything.

The bed and sheets were nice at least. Almost too nice.

You were used to your old sheets, or stiff bed sheets you’d find in cheap hotels.

Not soft satin sheets and pillows that were as fluffy as a cloud.

There was also the glaring fact you were in monster territory. Despite how nice the decor was, it was something on the back of your mind also keeping you up.

Yes, Dracula said you were a guest, but it was hard to lower your guard when you knew just outside the door were monsters roaming up and down the halls. That this whole castle was filled to the brim with the paranormal and monster kind.

You were also a hunter, and a notorious one from a notorious family at that.

It wasn’t hard to imagine some monsters may go ahead and take a shot at you, regardless of Dracula’s orders.

To some, it may be worth it to suffer Dracula’s wrath or ire if it meant eradicating you from existence. It wasn’t exactly a secret that a lot of the paranormal hated you.

You carefully laid on your side, and looked out the window.

A small comfort. Originally, the window had been covered by thick curtains. However, you had pulled them aside to attempt to relieve your anxiety.

The clouds were dark. You couldn’t tell if it was night or day at this point. Perhaps that was the point.

But you were so tired. Exhausted.

You really couldn’t even sleep if you wanted to, knowing Dracula, or at least a servant, would be bringing you a meal sometime soon.

The hunter in your soul didn’t wish to be taken off guard, even if it was to be fed.

A small part of you wondered if you should even eat. Your instincts whispered in your mind about poisons, warning you of incoming death.

But that was ridiculous. Imagine it, you, a hunter, dying from poison.

No, if Dracula wanted you dead, he would have killed you by now. By his own hand no less, you were sure.

Still, that didn’t stop your instincts from making things difficult.

You curled in on yourself a bit tighter, wincing when some of the stitches tugged. Reluctantly, you adjusted to keep them from stretching.

You reached over, and grabbed the nearby pillow, and hugged it close to your body for some comfort.

It smelled nice.

That was another issue. You were so sleep deprived and struggling with blood loss, your brain liked to bring up such things, no matter how much you were trying to shut them out.

Gripping the pillow tighter, you felt your face form into a sour look.

“What am I going to do…” You mumbled, closing your eyes again.

At least if you didn’t sleep, lying here would be some rest. Better than none.

Though you hated to admit how much you jumped when you heard a brief, but loud knocking against the door. Talk about acting like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs…

You sat up in bed with a wince, and you noticed that no one seemed to enter. Another knock followed the previous one. Your heart pounded in your chest.

“Uh… Come in…?” you called out, uncertain. Were they waiting to see if you were awake, or what?

The doorknob slowly turned, and you felt like the breath was punched out of you when Dracula stepped through.

Right. He had mentioned he would return.

He looked different though. Better, if you had to put a word to it. He wasn’t particularly disheveled to begin with, but now he didn’t look as… Hungry? Irritated? It was hard to figure out the words.

The Lord of the Night had also changed. Similar style, dark cloak and all, though he had on a vest with a dark red dress shirt underneath, and some sort of fancy slacks.

You imagined you probably would have wanted to change too if you had been wearing the same clothes as a stone statue for however many years.

But seeing Dracula again? You hated to admit how he practically took your breath away.

His power and presence were just as intimidating as before, and he wasn’t even angry. How did your ancestors handle him before, when he felt this powerful without seemingly intending to harm you?

Dracula looked you over briefly as he walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. Even if there were no traces of malice on his face, a shiver still ran down your spine, instincts still screaming to run or fight.

You swallowed your nerves down as he walked closer.

He stopped at the side of your bed, and once again, you had to crane your neck just to see him at his full height.

That is, until with the wave of his hand, a chair nearby in the room came scooting forward. It came to a stop behind him, and he sat down without a glance.

Internally, you hoped your awe wasn’t blatantly on your face.

When he sat, he crossed his legs, before holding a tray with some sort of bowl on it. He held it forward, and you blinked at it slowly.

“I hope you are resting well, Little Belmont. I had some servants make you some soup. I fear eating solids may upset your stomach, which would aggravate your injuries if you were to grow sick.” He spoke, his voice low and deep. Even if he wasn’t loud, his voice still seemed to vibrate in your chest.

It took his words a few moments to register, and you looked between him, and the tray. He took in your expression for a moment, before speaking once more.

“If you fear it has been tampered with, I assure you my servants-”

“Oh, no… It’s fine. Sorry, I’m…” You spoke, cutting him off, ignoring how your pulse spiked when you realized you did so.

“S-Sorry… My head is a bit foggy, is all…” You then explained, before shakily reaching for the tray.

Dracula was quick, or perhaps, your brain really was slow. He held out a hand, and quite gently might you add, set the tray down on your lap.

“Of course. You must not exert yourself, and you must eat. I do not know how long it has been since you last ate, but you need something in your stomach.”

As if hearing the conversation, your stomach loudly growled, and you felt your face flush in embarrassment. When was the last time you ate? This morning? Night before last? You couldn’t exactly remember…

It was brief, but you swore you could have seen Dracula’s lips twitch upward seeing you grow flustered. It must have been your foggy mind and imagination. Or not, he could be internally laughing at you. Who knows?

Meanwhile, Dracula knew he had been right to bring you soup. He just hoped you could hold it down.

Though he didn’t want to admit how… endearing it was seeing you grow flustered like that. For a Belmont, you were quite the adorable human.

He would never admit it of course, but hell save him if Death ever found out he had such thoughts. Dracula would never hear the end of it.

Especially considering such thoughts were about a Belmont. Someone he should be wasting no time slaying.

But he wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

There was something so different about you, even now, as he watched you pick up the spoon and attempt to eat.

You didn’t stare at him with burning hate in your eyes, but curiosity. There was a sharp mind behind those eyes that asked questions. Someone who didn’t just jump to conclusions.

Was it so wrong he wanted to see more of that, especially in the family of his enemies, who had blindly ran and fought? Killing innocents of his kind?

He was no saint, far from it. But he knew of many others the Belmont clan had killed.

But you… You were so different. He didn’t wish to say it outloud, but he wished to push forward that way of thinking. Perhaps he could even find a middle ground with you.

You weren’t just some ‘scary hunter’. The Little Belmont in front of him showed so much more, showing the better qualities of humanity.

His face almost soured at the thought, but even he could admit every one in a million, perhaps one good human was born. You seemed to be that one in a million exception so far.

Just like Lisa had been.

He decided not to think too much on what that could mean, though he hoped it promised good things in the near future.

It was quiet for a while, and Dracula couldn’t help but study you as you ate. First and foremost, it was to watch and make sure your body could handle it.

But he had his own selfish reasons for doing so.

He could move again. React to you. Speak to you. Touch you.

However, he found it hard to speak. There were many things he wanted to talk about with you, and half of them he intended on waiting until you were a little bit healthier.

Anything he thought of before now though, was suddenly caught on his tongue as he observed.

Perhaps it would be better this way. Dracula prided himself on being charismatic and influential, but that was amongst the supernatural. This was a Belmont, and he knew things were… shaky at best.

However, as he watched you try and consume more of the soup, he found himself managing to say something.

“Are you feeling alright? Adjusting well?”

Briefly, you tensed when he spoke, before you seemed to force yourself to relax. He made a mental note of that reaction, wondering if it was because of him, or if it was a natural response.

Dracula could understand it if it was from him, given the circumstances, but even he could tell there was something off about it. He didn’t like the feeling settling in his gut over the bigger picture.

“It hurts a lot, but I’ll live.” You spoke, your voice still rough, but sounding leagues better than before. For a moment, it looked as if you wanted to say more, but held your tongue.

Interesting.

You were still for a moment, struggling to look at him. No doubt you were still having trouble thinking clearly, and struggling with everything that had happened. Have you even slept?

He had his doubts you’ve even rested. You may not look as manic like before, but you looked completely exhausted.

For a moment, he briefly thought about using his abilities to make you sleep. It was something Lisa would request on occasion if she hadn’t felt well or couldn’t settle.

However, he stomped that idea down. The last thing you needed was him using his powers like that on you, unless explicitly agreed upon. Even though you were… receptive of him taking care of you at the moment, he didn’t want to shatter that small bit of trust.

Given that he had suspicions about your home life, he imagined just the small bit of trust you had given him at all was momentous. Dracula couldn’t afford to lose that. Not now.

Though Dracula hated the odd pain in his chest as he stared at you. He was worried. Something he didn’t think he would ever feel again.

“Thank you, by the way.”

His eyes were on your face in an instant as you spoke.

“I… You didn’t have to take care of me. I do appreciate it.” You spoke, your eyes still on the bowl in your lap.

Your voice was small, and quiet. Dracula could tell though, saying that must have taken strength.

You didn’t see his eyes soften ever so slightly.

“You are welcome. As my guest, I will do my best to make sure you are taken care of.”

Internally you wanted to scream. You hated how much you liked the sound of that. When was the last time anyone cared enough to take care of you? Your mother before she had died all those years ago?

It had been way too long, and it was Dracula who was seemingly wanting to take care of you.

Damn your foggy mind.

A few moments of silence passed.

“I… Um…” You began, unsure on how to word this.

“About when you were a statue…”

You had so many questions, but didn’t know where to begin. Was it even a good idea to ask in the state you were in?

“You could hear and see everything, right?” you asked tentatively.

Dracula was silent for a moment, red eyes staring into you. It seemed he was contemplating what to say, and you tried not to get nervous as the seconds awkwardly ticked onward.

“Indeed I was. I was aware the moment you stepped foot in my castle the first time, though I was not aware it was a Belmont, not at first.”

His voice was still like velvet. No wonder vampires were such good hunters if they could talk like him.

You really needed to force yourself to sleep. Maybe if you smacked your head hard enough on the table, you could knock yourself out before you did or thought anything weirder.

Clenching your fist, you attempted to figure out what to say next.

“Um…”

Internally you cursed yourself for making this awkward. Why did you have to bring this up?

“Then… What now?” You asked, trying to find some semblance of what comes next. Just because he was taking care of you didn’t make everything all happy and cheery.

You couldn’t wash away centuries of history and bloodshed out of nowhere.

Dracula shifted, then reached over to the bedside table, and grabbed a glass of water. You looked at it confused.

When had he brought that in?

Before you could ask, he was gently holding it out to you.

“We can discuss that after you have rested. We have much to go over, but worrying about that and discussing it while you are injured won’t help your healing.”

He looked away a moment, as if contemplating what to say, before his eyes met your own once again.

“You have gained my interest and respect, enough to hear you out and discuss everything. When you are in a state to do so, of course.”

A part of you opened your mouth to speak, as if to say you could do it now, but you froze. Your eyes landed on the glass he still held out.

After a moment, you closed your mouth, and took the glass.

In that moment, you couldn’t help but feel like some sort of agreement or contract was formed, as if your fate was sealed.

As you sipped the refreshing water though, and looked over at Dracula himself, who seemed pleased you accepted the drink…

…You wondered if this would really be that bad?

Perhaps your future wouldn’t be as bleak as you thought.

#castlevania #dracula #vlad dracula tepes #dracula x reader #castlevania x reader #x reader #xreader #reader insert #belmont!reader #vlad dracula țepeș #dracula vlad tepes #tw anxiety #tw injury #tw blood drinking #long post

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webslinger-holland · 7 months ago

Text

The Sergeant's Senator | Epilogue

Summary: A few years have passed. The Bad Batch finally think about settling down on Pabu.

Warning: fluff, reuniting, mutual pining, kissing

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader Senator

Type: Short Series

Word Count: 3.5k words

Series Masterlist

Over the course of the next three years, Hunter had come across lots of different beaches during their missions. He'd often take a short moment to take in the scenery at the end of a mission, judging the features that in his mind made the beach a good one or a bad one.

No matter how many beaches he came across, Hunter was never fully satisfied with the beach in front of him. There was always something that made it fall short of being a perfect beach. Whether it was much too rocky, the waters weren't the right shade of blue, or a few unfriendly critters littered the place. He came to the conclusion that none of these beaches were up to his specific standards.

That was until Pabu.

During the Bad Batch's first stay on the planet, Hunter found himself walking down to the shoreline on his own one evening. His heavy boots pressed into the soft white sand, thinking slightly under his weight. He searched some of his surroundings, glancing up and down the coastline for anything out of place. But Hunter couldn't really see anything just yet.

The crystal clear blue water created the smallest curved waves, splashing white sea foam along the shore. The sinking orange sun shone through the billowing wispy clouds, kissing his tanned skin and keeping him warm in the sunlight. A handful of colorful seashells littered across the sand, but not too much that it would be difficult to avoid stepping on them. The beach looked like a masterful painting. And it felt like the world seemed to stand still.

This was the place; Hunter was sure of it.

The Pabu port was certainly a hotspot for the remote island. Many fishing boats would travel out into the waters every day to catch fish to bring back. They also transported various goods including resources to rebuild and supplies to distribute. There were always a lot of people hanging around the docks.

Just as a boat was pulling into port, Wrecker was sure to wave from his spot on the perched ledge. He held a fishing pole in one hand, gently tugging the line with the other. The small boat docked and a number of people began carrying the supplies up to the lower level of the city.

Meanwhile, Shep and Hunter were carrying two heavy crates up the stairs to the lower level. They wasted little time in setting the crates down with the rest of them, getting ready to go back down for another trip.

"This friend of yours who's stopping by, he's another clone?" Shep wondered while throwing a glance towards the sergeant.

"Yeah, but don't worry. He's not with the Empire," Hunter reassured him. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand.

"If you trust him, that's enough for me," Shep smiled.

"The new fishing dock's rebuilt and moored," Wrecker announced. He had just climbed the last few steps whilst carrying a massive purple fish over one shoulder. "And I caught some dinner," Wrecker added proudly.

"You've been busy," Hunter recognized.

"You're got that right," Wrecker smirked. He propped the pole of his fishing rod over his right shoulder. He was quickly called away by some others who were looking for help to fortify the seawall. And he hurried after them.

"He's become an integral part of this community. You all have," Shep praised. His tone changed slightly as his next words came. "Any chance you've reconsidered staying permanently?"

"For soldiers, putting down roots is an occupational hazard." Hunter tried to explain. He knew this from first hand experience that he wasn't meant to form attachments to anyone or any place.

"Is that all you are? A soldier?" Shep asked sadly.

For a brief moment, Hunter pondered his words carefully. It'd been a long time since he questioned his status as a soldier. The times had changed and the war had ended since then. But he didn't have a long time to think about this before he heard the engines of his ship flying overhead.

Looking up, the Marauder flew over the docks and the port. It began flying higher into the sky, growing smaller in the distance. The two of them walked towards the edge of the steps to watch the ship fly away.

"More flying lessons?" Shep chuckled.

"Uh-huh. Tech's got his hands full," Hunter commented with a small smirk on his face.

Meanwhile, Tech and Omega were doing another flying session since she had begged him earlier that morning. She sat happily in the pilot's seat, maneuvering the wheel with two hands. Tech was currently seated beside her, but was holding onto the sides of the seat for dear life.

It was safe to assume that Tech found Omega's flying skills incredibly inexperienced and rather reckless. She'd often pull up at the last minute or use the thrusters way too much. He tried to critic her, but she kinda did her own thing.

After a moment, there was an incoming vessel approaching them that showed up on their scanners. The two of them leaned forward in their seats to look at the blinking red light on the panel.

"Incoming vessel on approach," Tech explained.

"It's him!" Omega exclaimed happily. She pressed the comm channel. "Havoc-4, this is Havoc-5. Do you copy?"

"Affirmative, Havoc-5. I see you've been keeping up with your training," Echo's voice sounded through their channel. A smile was evident in his tone.

"As promised," Omega replied.

"Good. Race you to the landing zone?" Echo challenged.

Before Tech was able to protest the idea, Omega had already accepted the challenge and grabbed onto the thrusters. She pulled a sharp turn in order to head back to the landing zone, following the ship closely behind.

Only a few minutes later, Echo successfully landed his ship near the landing zone. The engines powered down and the ramp lowered slowly. He walked down the ramp to be greeted by a familiar face. Both Hunter and Echo came up to each other and clasped their hands together in a brotherly manner.

"You weren't kidding. This place is remote," Echo told him, having never visiting the desolate planet beforehand.

"That has its advantages," Hunter agreed. The Marauder ship began to slowly descend over the landing platform, coming down a little rougher than expected.

"I'm surprised you're not on Ord Mantell with Cid," Echo pointed out.

"We've been...reevaluating things," Hunter responded.

In the short distance, Omega emerged from the entrance of the ship. She called the clones name, waving her hand wildly in hopes that he would see her. She broke into a run down the ramp, following by a dizzy looking Tech who stumbled down after her with a hand on the side of his head.

Just as Omega drew closer to them, she ended up leaping into his open arms and wrapped her arms around his next. He was a little taken back by the gesture to say the least, but he hugged her back nonetheless. She smiled so brightly.

"We've missed you," Omega said cheerfully.

"It hasn't been that long," Echo chuckled. He was careful to set her back down on her own two feet.

"Feels like it has," Omega shrugged her shoulders at this.

Turning his attention back towards Hunter, Echo's face grew more serious. He had come to them for a reason; this wasn't just a friendly visit. However, Echo did come bearing good news. And he needed to tell the sergeant.

"I've just come from Coruscant," Echo confessed. The sergeant immedielty straightened his back in posture and his breath hitched in the back of his throat at the mere mention.

"Did you happen to--" Hunter stopped his words short.

"Yes," Echo nodded. His lips tugged into a gentle smile. "I saw her. She's doing just fine."

Upon hearing this, Hunter nodded his head understandingly. His gaze fell to the floor as he tried pushing his emotions and reaction down. However, this didn't go unnoticed by Tech or Omega. They studied him carefully.

"Actually," Echo corrected himself. "She's doing more than fine."

Without another word, Echo had turned around in his place and walked right back up the ramp of his ship. The others who had been left behind were confused by his sudden disappearance. But it all seemed to make sense a moment later when he reemerged at the entrance.

This time, Echo wasn't alone though. He gingerly helped escort the former senator down the ramp slowly, being extra mindful of her weakened state. She needed to watch her steps because she didn't want to loose her footing. The two of them descended down the length of the ramp until they reached the bottom. Now they lifted their gaze to look at the others.

In that moment, Hunter felt this stirring tension growing in the pit of his stomach. Everything around seemed irrelevant as he stared directly into those mesmerizing eyes once again. He honestly never thought he'd lay eyes on her again, yet here she was, standing only a few feet away from him. He heard his heart skip a beat. And he swore that he'd just fallen in love with her all over again.

Having been apart for three years, Y/n looked different from when they spent time together and from when the picture of her hologram was taken. She no longer wore extravagant clothing fit for a senator, instead opting to wear bland and boring civvy clothes. Not only that, but she also cut her hair and it now rested in soft waves just below her chin. She looked different; she looked as beautiful as ever.

Feeling overcome with emotions, Hunter took a single shaky step forward. He moved with caution in fear that this was all just some horrible nightmare torturing his mind. But as he drew closer to her, his hesitation didn't waver. He just couldn't believe his eyes.

Very quietly, Echo and Tech silently gestured for the young girl to follow them away. She was going to protest, but they quickly reminded her that they needed a moment together. The three of them began taking strides backwards, giving the couple some space. They watched from a distance instead.

"Is that the senator he likes?" Omega asked with slightly narrowed eyes. She looked up at Tech and Echo for an answer.

"That's her," Echo nodded once in confirmation.

"She doesn't look like a senator," Omega commented on her appearance.

"That's because she's not a senator anymore," Echo replied without taking his eyes off the pair. He crossed his arms over his chest. "She stepped down a few months ago," Echo added.

"So why'd you bring her here?" Omega always seemed to have a million questions on her mind.

"She needed a place to go. She's always had a target on her back. Now more than ever," Echo said with a hint of sorrow in his voice. He didn't want to get too deep into the details, thinking it wouldn't be wise to share that information with a child.

"She'll be safe here," Tech reassured him. "Plus...Hunter's here too."

At this comment, Echo's lips began to tug into a smart smile. He nodded his head in agreement. He looked between the two of them with admiring eyes.

"It's exactly what they both needed," Echo responded. It was almost like it was all apart of his grand plan to get them back together. And it worked perfectly in his favor. "She needed a place to take refuge and he needed a reason to stay."

All the while this conversation was taking place, Hunter and Y/n were still trying to come up with the right words to greet one another. They both simply stood in front of one another with shocked looks on their faces. Each of them unable to find the courage to speak first.

"Hi," Y/n spoke gently. She sent him a nervous smile. She wrung her hands together, realizing that they had become incredibly sweaty.

"Hi," Hunter breathed back, still a bit lost for words. He cleared his throat awkwardly, shaking himself out of his trance. "I--I can't believe you're standing in front of me," Hunter spoke.

"I know," Y/n agreed. "Me neither."

"Cause I never thought I'd see you again," Hunter confessed. There was a strong sense of sorrow in his brown eyes. A heavy heart still kept him stationed, remembering all those lonely nights longing to be able to see her or speak to her.

"Well...I'm here now."

Without saying another word, Hunter took the remaining steps forward to close the distance between the two of them. He wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her into a tight embrace. Dropping his head onto her shoulder, Hunter took a second to bask in the feeling of having her this close to him after all those long years. He closed his eyes shut, sighing in a form of contentment.

For some reason, Hunter was holding onto her so desperately at the beginning. It was almost like he was afraid she'd slip through his fingers so he clung to her as a lifeline. He buried his nose into the waves of her hair, inhaling the sweet familiar scent of fresh lavender. She grounded him back to reality.

"I missed you," Hunter mumbled into her hair quiet enough that she was the only one who heard him.

"I missed you too," Y/n said with a hinted smile in her tone. Her arms remained locked around the space behind his neck, holding him down to her for a while. They swayed ever so gently in their place, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness taking over them.

Finally, Hunter drew away from her, but he kept his hands on her hips steadily. He held her at an arms length so his eyes were able to scan over her new appearance. He chuckled softly to himself.

"What happened to this?" Hunter prompted with a smile. He had brought a hand up to grab a few strands of her short hair, tugging on it teasingly.

"I cut it," Y/n replied happily. She subconsciously grabbed a few strands as if to fix it for approval. She gazed up at him with sparkling eyes. "Do you like it?"

"It suits you," Hunter agreed with a firm nod. "I like it a lot."

There grew a settled comfortable silence between the two of them. They once again found that they were at a loss for words, choosing to simply bask in one another's presence for the meantime. Eventually, a thought slipped through the sergeant's mind. And he was reminded of the thing he did on every previous mission.

"I have to show you something," Hunter stated as the realization dawned on him suddenly.

"Lead the way," Y/n encouraged. He took hold of her hand gently, glancing down at her for a quick approval. When she sent him a smile, Hunter took that as the 'go ahead.'

They began walking through the various streets of the little island, talking and catching up on the latest development in their lives. She had mentioned what had happened to the senate as of recently, stating that the corruption of this new empire was only creating more problems throughout the galaxy in her opinion. She also had come to realize that there weren't too many others who agreed with her, which became one of the reasons why she stepped down.

After this, Hunter talked about to events that occurred after the end of the war. How Order 66 went down for them, how they met Omega in Kamino, how Crosshair chose the Empire over them, and how they had been on the run ever since. It felt like they talked for hours as they mindlessly walked through the quaint streets.

It wasn't until later in the evening when they made their way to the lowest level of the city. They passed by the now empty ports, heading towards the shoreline in the distance. Stepping off the platform meant that their feet settled on the soft sand of the beach.

When the former senator raised her head, Y/n was greeted by the most magnificent and breathtaking sight she'd ever had the pleasure to witness. As the sun hovered over the horizon, it casted a warm, golden glow across the sky, painting it with a palette of oranges, pinks, and yellows. The ocean waves created the most gentlest of sounds, lapping against the shore in a rhythmically slow manner.

The sand was bathed in the warm light of the settling sun, casting these long deep shadows that stretched down the length of the beach. The air filled with the silly sound of seagulls quacking at each other over the sounds of waves crashing against nearby rocks.

While the sun sank lower, the colors scattered across the skyline began to intensify. The oranges grew richer in ripeness, the pinks changed a shade deeper, and the yellow more pronounced than ever. The fluffy clouds were transformed into a canvas of swirling and mixing colors; each cloud becoming a unique piece of art never seen before. It was the most beautiful sight known to man; a beach bathed in the warm light of a setting sun.

Taking a moment to admire the beauty, Y/n wanted to commit this picture to her memory forever. She closed her eyes temporarily. She inhaled deeply through her nose, smelling the salt of the sea. As the waves crashed near her feet, a spray of seawater kissed her face gently. The gently wind blew the hair out of her face and the sun's warm brought a beautiful glow to her skin. A bright smile overtook her face.

All the while, Hunter was looking down at her like she was the only thing in the world. He didn't care about the view of the beautiful shoreline in front of him; instead choosing to look at the person who he believed could rival the view. He truly thought she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on and he had believed that for years now.

"It's beautiful," Y/n breathed, still taking the time to admire the view.

"Well, I always promised that I'd take you to the beach," Hunter recalled. His thoughts turned wary for a second. A frown fell across his face. "I just hope that it lives up to your expectations."

"It exceeds them," Y/n answered without a moment's hesitation. Her eyes remained trained on the landscape in front of her. "I've never seen a more pure and perfect beauty than this."

"I have," Hunter confessed.

Since getting there, this was the first time that she'd taken the chance to look at him instead of the view. She turned her head to look up at him only to find that he was already looking at her and had been for some time now. Her breath caught in the back of her throat and her heart skipped a beat. She saw the way he smiled at his and she was reminded about his heightened senses.

Feeling slightly embarrassed with herself, Y/n went to avoid his gaze, but he stopped her from doing so. He grasped the tip of her chin between his fingers, lifting her head to meet his gaze once more. The two of themselves discovered that they naturally gravitated towards one another. Their gazes switching between looking at their eyes and glancing down at their lips.

Finally, after three years of being apart from each other, the sergeant and the senator's lips brushed together in a soft delicate kiss. Their eyes fluttered shut beforehand. His hands went from the sides of her head and down to my neck, holding her steadily in his place. Mouths moving in a slow manner to swallow one another's breaths. She tasted as sweet as he recalled from their first kiss and his scruff tickled her face ever so slightly.

They tried to savor this moment together. They held onto each other in fear that they'd lose one another all over again. Their lips fit together like two perfectly matched puzzle pieces, destined to be together from the start. They were reunited.

Pulling away, Hunter already missed the feeling of her lips against his own. He leaned forward to press his head to her own. Their noses bumped together. He kept his hands on the sides of her neck, fighting the urge to simply pull her back into another kiss. She brought her hands up to hold onto the backs of his hands. She gazed up at him with a gentle smile on her face.

"I love you."

No matter what challenges were ahead of them or what was they'd be up against in the future, neither of them feared it. Because they knew that, despite what may come, that they'd always have each other. And they didn't have intend on letting go anytime soon.

It would be the two of them against the rest of the world. And they were okay with that.

Taglist:

@leotatombs @justhavingsomefun1 @totally-not-your-babe @jedipoodoo @gyllord @roam-rs @totallyunidentified @redheadgirl @mrcaptainrex @whore-of-many-hot-men @graciexmarvel @qweenrogerina @arcsimper5 @queenofspades6 @cadihyo @jediknightjana @elthoughtzos @lokigirlszendaya @sleepycreativewriter @moonwrecked-blog @ravenclawbitch426 @waytoooldforthis78 @left-in-the-motel-bar @fic-force-99 @ayyyy-le-simp @swaggykermit

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL WHO FOLLOWED THIS SERIES! I DO HAVE A FEW DELETED SCENES THAT WILL PROBABLY BE POSTED WITHIN THE NEXT WEEK OR SO IF THAT INTERESTS PEOPLE. THANKS AGAIN!

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agendabymooner · 1 year ago

Text

it’s time to go ! max v. x ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

“sometimes giving up is the strong thing.”

summary: sylvie edson ford hearth swore not to think about what had happened back in 2012, but max verstappen has a different plan with his absent childhood friend. OR lando norris has a bad habit of sharing things that he isn’t permitted to share— like her phone number.

content warning: written and text messages applied, frenemies to lovers (ish), hurt/comfort? or angst, use of explicit language, model!student!ofc (sylvie), mentions of anxiety, consciousness, childhood friendships

note: i had to listen to a lot of ts songs. thank you all for the 82 followers!!! i’m so glad you guys are enjoying the content i make. i honestly had been making them because i keep them in my notes but never wrote full narratives of them. if they are written down, they’re normally not published— aka they’re in my wattpad draft. so… i hope you guys enjoy this xx

masterlist

Everybody swore that the two would get together eventually. Too bad it didn’t work like that.

Christmas was what Sylvie considered the best time of the year. She loved the way Christmas lifted the spirits of everyone, no matter how difficult the year had been for them. She loved being one of the children who would chase each other down the halls while parents gathered around and talked about the last season. She loved being around people that knew her well.

The thing was, however, no one knew her anymore. Not as well as they used to.

For a supermodel-on-the-rise, she sure felt conscious about the amount of eyes that watched her as she stepped foot inside the ballroom of the estate. The tulles of her red skirt should have given her more space to breathe, but she felt her body hyperventilating as she nearly dove headfirst into the mini bar.

Looking down on her newly manicured nails had been a habit of hers that night. She pretended to admire the polished nails while she waited for the bartender to mix her strawberry daiquiri, not wanting to look up and meet anyone’s eyes.

The teenagers and the ones who recently left that phase wondered how… How did she change that much?

Her physique certainly matured more than anyone could expect. Her slightly rounded cheeks were replaced by the sharp jawline that could possibly kill. Her eyes that avoided any form of communication were foxy and just as sharp as her jaw. Her nose was just as sharp, as well. If you were to ask Lando, she didn’t have to wear heels to out-height him. Her body and face were no longer recognizable. She was ready to be a fan favourite and a well-paid supermodel.

Funnily enough, she prioritized racing first before she did her child modeling classes. How she managed to transition from one thing to another in the span of three years, nobody could answer. She was a jack of all trades, said by her mother, just like her siblings. She was one of the many sisters who had more options to pursue instead of just sticking to racing. So for her to continue with modeling and fashion… yeah, she already knew how to operate before she was even hired by an agency. At least now she didn’t have to struggle with finding work. She didn’t have to worry about getting hired by a team.

Her career now was clearly something that she couldn’t act on, though. She was always told to walk, don’t pay attention to what everyone’s talking about and get a move on.

But this party wasn’t a runway. The judging eyes didn’t want to pay attention to the details of the clothes, but rather, the figure who wore the dress herself.

“You’re a bit tense, lovie,” Tilly was a blessing in disguise, shaped in the form of a woman who carried a 20 weeks worth of a precious gift in her womb. She must’ve picked up on Sylvie’s discomfort that she decided to strut towards her sister’s direction as quickly as a pregnant woman could. “You could have stayed at home, as I said.”

“I’ve got to say hi to them at some point,” Sylvie murmured to her sister. “Especially Lando. That bloke wouldn’t let it go if I decided to avoid him, too.”

“Well, they should be around here,” Tilly quipped as she rubbed her stomach. Seeing the movement in her peripheral vision, Sylvie spontaneously reached out and got a feel of the bump. She tried to ease her mind by doing the most peaceful thing. “They’re not looking at you for the wrong reasons, Sylv. I promise.”

“If they are, then they’re going to have to face Maman and I’s wrath,” Tilly cheekily smiled. Tilly looked past Sylvie’s shoulder as she said, “Look. Here are the boys.”

Sylvie was glad that her glass was empty and already resting at the counter, otherwise she would have made a scene if she had dropped it after being attacked by a bear hug.

“Fucking Lando,” she swore beneath her breath, trying to pull him off as she turned feeling restrained. He wouldn’t let go. She would have sworn once more, preferably aloud this time, had it been for the other boys that stood excitedly with him. She couldn’t even look at them properly due to the hold that Lando had on her.

“I told you I was going to kidnap you,” Lando let out an evil laugh before waving enthusiastically at Tilly, “Thanks, Tils! I’ll return her to you later!”

“Good, you better,” Tilly called out.

Her poor feet would be dead by the end of the night and Sylvie knew that she was fucked if she didn’t do anything about it. It wasn’t like she could stop Lando from dragging her down to wherever he’s taking her to just so she could slip out of her Valentino. She couldn’t seem to stop him especially when they both passed by familiar faces. Especially one that she didn’t want to see.

Fucking Max Verstappen. She thought that God was laughing at her that night.

She couldn’t even look at him by the time that they formed some sort of circle around the lounge room.

The telly was on, but it had been playing nothing but the screen of the karaoke waiting to show its texts and tunes. None of them paid that much attention to it, especially her.

The boys seemed like they were craving for companionship of a woman as they surrounded her with curiosity and excitement. They tried to get her attention while she was still speaking to another person. She felt like she was what Fergie was talking about in Fergalicious.

She still couldn’t look him in the eyes, situating herself between Charles Leclerc— her favourite enemy in the track and George Russell— the boy that she once called “everyone’s crush”— to avoid sharing a conversation with Max. She made sure she sat next to the two, not looking at the Dutchman as she continued to catch up with Lando and the other people she was acquainted with.

Most of them knew who she was, of course. She had been friends with most of them for years, finding themselves in the same track as they trained. She competed with them, offering nothing to the boys but fun and friendly competition. She saw things differently from everyone else. No matter how much she wished to be an F1 driver, she didn’t push past her limits— not even when her father told her to.

She was dubbed “the Wild Mustang” at the age of 10 after she realized that she was able to reach the pedal and brake of her mother’s vehicle.

The boys had never seen someone do a donut in their own parking lot before. Let alone a 10-year-old girl—thank god for her Uncle Gilles for teaching her how to do that on TV. Despite their amazement and enthusiasm, Sylvie was no longer allowed to be in the vehicle on her own after she was caught doing another donut while the other kids watched and cheered. Sylvie clearly made everyone’s time because of her wildness and risky attitude. Oh, and her blunt mouth.

So for her to sit silently as she nodded to whatever it was that her acquaintances were talking about? It wasn’t her.

Ever since she left the academy, at the age of 14, she didn’t look back. She didn’t look back at her own friends, either. Lando was the only one persistent enough to barge inside her room only for him to find out that she was packing to go to university.

Extremely early advancement program, she said. She went to university and while she was there, Lando made sure that she’d call him at least once in a while. Otherwise the security would have a problem fighting with a 4 foot something boy who only wanted to see his friend.

Nobody truly saw her behaviour change besides from her family… and Lando. She seemed more reserved when she’s out and about, much to Lando’s dismay. He really hated it when he was the only one who would bring the energy into the room. As if she lacked the power. Lando was convinced that he annoyed her because of the lack of retorts she had passed to him.

He didn’t stop talking to her. He abruptly confronted her about her behaviour instead of trying to skirt his way around it. He was more than relieved that she wasn’t annoyed by his presence, yet he was curious to know what had her acting like this. She had been like that since she left the academy. Her silence could be interpreted as sourness and hatred.

Regardless, they saw each other every other six months whether it’s during the race weekend or an event hosted by a family. But she never went to any of his racing tournaments.

She had attended certain Formula One race weekends throughout the absence of her racing career. People only caught a glimpse of her whenever she went, wondering how fast she’d disappeared even when she visited each garage.

Her attitude remained the same to her family, though. That’s why Tilly and her sisters wondered how people could see Sylvie as an introvert or a bitch. She made fun of Tilly back when Toto was still a stranger to the family. She spoke to whichever Mercedes staff had brought her to the grandstand or hospitality. She was… still her.

She refused to speak to people her age— that weren’t her sisters, of course. Especially those who were familiar with the tracks and familiar with who she was. She never looked at them. She didn’t feel comfortable being in this room. Lando was just pushing her to speak as much as she could since his attention was everywhere. He was friends with everyone in the circle and that meant that she, too, had to speak.

Still, she couldn’t seem to reply to Max. She’d only have a passing comment if he asked something to her. He was clearly trying to get her attention, but her eyes were trained anywhere else but his own pair.

“I want some more Coke,” Lando complained, “you should have gotten more, Alex.”

“Eh? Why me? Why don’t you get up?” Alex Albon replied with a scoff, “You’re the one who’s drinking it.”

She took this as an opportunity to dip out for a moment as she said, “I’ll grab ‘em.”

“Thanks Mustang,” Lando’s boyish grin appeared on his face as she stood up from the carpet. Her skirt slightly wrinkled from sitting on the floor for too long, but her feet were thankful that the low heels that she wore were taken off. “You are the best.”

“Only when you need something, espèce de salaud paresseux.” you lazy bastard. Charles snorted, clearly understanding what she just called Lando as she walked down the hallway to find the little man cave that she once explored. The room was dark, the only thing that brightened was the mini fridge with cans of Coke in them.

She didn’t know why she tiptoed towards it, kneeling down to its level as her fingers touched the cold metal. She didn’t even realize she couldn’t carry that many cans. Lando, on a good day, would drink a dozen of the mini cans and Sylvie learned that you might as well get them all now before he bitches about running out of drink.

“D’you need help?”

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” She hit her head when she tried looking up to see who just spoke. But she didn’t need to look. She already knew who decided to corner her. In a dark room.

“Shit, shit, sorry schat,” Max swore as he reached out, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied with a hiss, “lost a fucking brain or two but I suppose I am.”

The last time that they spoke was at the paddock during the 2014 Silverstone race. That was when he shoulder checked her unintentionally, leaving her to bark at him in annoyance before stomping off. They didn’t even see each other’s faces.

“Here, do you need help?” He asked genuinely, gesturing with his empty hands as he offered some sort of support.

She didn’t bother hesitating, just shoving the cold cans of pop in his arms while she turned to grab more. She busied herself with the fridge before she groaned after hearing him clear his throat.

“So uh… How have you been, Sylvie?”

“Delightful,” she responded drily.

“How was your first and second term?”

“Busy.”

“How are you doing with the…modeling stuff then?” Oh he really wouldn’t leave without getting words out of her mouth.

“Great,” she muttered. He still wouldn’t catch onto the disinterest in her tone. Was he really this oblivious or did he lose a brain cell or two for the past few years?

“You look—“ he cleared his throat once more, feeling his face flush pink as he remembered the last picture that he saw of her. The holiday collection of Victoria’s Secret Pink. “You looked very beautiful at them.”

She paused, wondering what the fuck was he doing in the man cave with her. What was the reason for his intervention? Did he corner her just to compliment her latest project?

“Thank you,” she sighed before grabbing the last of the cans, kicking the fridge closed as she walked past him.

“I want to catch up with you,” he voiced out as they walked down the hallway. It remained empty, the ballroom was obviously occupied by loud music and loud guests and hosts. The lounge room, despite it being a few feet away, remained loud as well as the boys sung their hearts out. Poorly.

His voice echoed in the hallway, leaving her to pause and turn around. She remained standing there as he finally jogged towards her. They were both still cradling cans of pop as if those were their children.

“It’s just…” Max trailed off, wanting to scratch his head but couldn’t. “You stopped talking to all of us after you left. At least all of us but Lando.”

She wanted to scoff. She wanted to laugh at his face. There was no way he’d have this much audacity to assume that she’d even dare talk to him. Not after all of that fiasco.

“Some of us were wondering,” he rocked back and forth on his feet. “Especially with where you went after all of that. I was going to apologize to you.”

“Hm,” she hummed disinterestedly. She was itching to go back to the lounge room.

“For doing that,” Max spoke meekly.

She was infuriated for the first time in four years. She had never been angry about this. She downplayed her anger and acted as if she had only quit the academy when she was already on her way to become the first female F1 driver. She pretended that he didn’t exist, because God only knew what she could do at the thought of him.

Back in 2014, when she learned that he was a reserved driver, she begged her sister for something so silly. To fire Max. She didn’t really mean that. She only wanted to say his name with disdain to let it out of her system. But then she returned to her routine of being silent and keeping some shit to herself, not wanting to slag him off any further as an ounce of guilt filled her mind.

Then he said some shit like this. He wouldn’t even tell her what he did. She had never been so angry since now.

But she could only offer nothing but a cold tone. “For doing what?” She asked coolly, looking at him in the eyes as she challenged him.

Her coldness left him stammering, “F-for the uh…” then he was silent.

Watching his mouth clamp shut, she laughed humourlessly before shaking her head in disbelief. “If you’re going to apologize, you have to recognize what you’ve done first. Oh, Verstappen,” she tutted, “you are so silly.”

Walking back to the lounge room, she left him behind in the hallway. Maybe after today, she could cry herself to sleep this time. She hasn't been able to cry ever since she left. Maybe after letting that out, she’d be able to rest a little bit better.

Everyone thought that, after growing up with each other, they’d end up as something else that’ll last forever. But if anyone had seen this confrontation, they’d express how wrong they were. Because the first glimpse of her long lost lover turned into something like hate. It wasn’t the same as it was before 2012.

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen angst #mv1 #mv33 imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #formula one imagine #formula one x oc #formula one smau #red bull racing imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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solar-wing · 1 year ago

Text

⚣ Cocky Bastard 😡

⚣😡 A/N → My first Hal Jordan post from my previous account. Conner and Hal fics in the works including the third installment for Primal. Since I revamped the first two parts (especially the second), I pretty much had to re-do the entire piece from beginning to end. So that's why it's been taking a little bit longer than usual but it's coming. Anyway, thank you guys for 100 followers and as promised, those fics are coming. WARNINGS: Dub-Con. Coercion, Implied Jealousy, Slight Harassment, etc. Full NSFW version will be posted to Patreon and AO3.

⚣😡 Prompts Used → @cursedspaceofair – "You know you love me." @thelonelyempath – #7 "Be a good boy and swallow for me."

⚣😡 Summary → Hal Jordan has been an annoying little pest and a thorn in your side ever since you joined the Justice League. His over-inflated ego pushes you to avoid him as much as possible, which in turn, only makes the superhero pester you more. So, how do you succeed in getting the cocky bastard to leave you alone?

⚣😡 Words → 2.2k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💚

⚣ ENJOY 😡

You’d had it up to fucking here with Hal fucking Jordan, the cocky bastard.

Ever since you joined the Justice League, Hal made it his fucking mission to get on your last nerve. Going out of his way with all types of crazy antics to annoy you and get your attention.

And why was he doing it in the first place?

Cause the fucker didn’t have a life, obviously, and just loved messing with yours!

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Superman said while you and he were walking down the hallway after getting out of a meeting.

You joined the Justice League a little under six months ago after your involvement in helping to prevent the world and reality itself from collapsing on itself. Superman, Batman, Flash, Wonder Woman, and others were impressed with your capabilities, and they recruited you into the organization almost immediately. The pure excitement you felt after being invited into the superhero community was unmatched by anything else you had ever felt.

Upon your initiation and induction into the group of crime fighters, they let you create your own superhero alias and supplied you with your own suit that attuned to your abilities. Apparently, they had a guy who specialized in making suits for heroes, so you were excited to see what he came up with.

All your new comrades were super friendly and welcoming. If you had fanboyed a bit when you met some of your favorite heroes, they gave you the grace of pretending they didn’t notice. Of course, not everyone was open upon the first meeting, but you still got along with them just fine, keeping everything cordial and as professional as possible.

Then, you met Hal.

“You the new recruit?” Hal asked, approaching you in the hallway while taking a break from one of your training sessions with Black Canary.

“Yep, that’s me! You must be Green Lantern. It’s good to meet you. I’m a big fan of your work.” You said with a smile while holding your hand out for a handshake. The green-masked man only smirked back at you, not acknowledging your outreached hand while placing his own on his hips in a semi-pose.

“Of course, why wouldn’t you be?” He replied, the cocky look on his face not doing much to help his first impression on you.

You slowly put your hand down, realizing you were only embarrassing yourself by keeping it up, waiting for him to return your gesture. When you figured there was nothing else to say, you started to make your way back inside the training room.

“Let me know if you want any pointers on combat. I saw you training there, and no offense, but you definitely could use my help.”

The way your body immediately came to a screeching halt was almost comical. You turned around to see him still looking behind you, only now he was dusting and shining his ring. Holding in your temper and the less-than-holy words at the tip of your tongue, you just gave him a nod in return. “Will do.”

You continued into the training room, quickly moving before he could say something else that would piss you off. Black Canary noticed a little more aggression in your combat after that and asked about it, and only had one response in mind.

“I hate cocky bastards.”

Anyways, back to you and Big Blue.

“No, Superman, it really is that bad. I swear I’m this close to punching the dickwad in his dick.” You fumed, barely holding yourself back from creating a hole in the wall.

“Well, what has he done?” The Kryptonian asked.

“What hasn’t he done?!” You exclaimed.

It was true. And though the Kryptonian was feigning ignorance, he could clearly see his comrade in green was purposely going out of his way to irritate the Justice League’s newest member. He wasn’t doing anything to hide it, either. Batman had to say something to get him to lay off for a bit, but this was Hal Jordan we were talking about. When does this guy ever listen to anything that’s not the sound of his own fucking voice?

No, seriously. The dude’s got a thing for hearing his own voice. Cyborg found a folder of voice recordings on his phone of Hal boasting about himself, saying some of the most outrageous things making him seem like the god of all heroes. You’d definitely be holding on to that for blackmail if it got to that point, and knowing this fucker, it would.

First, it was the snarky comments on every little thing you did.

“Wow, the way you just sat there and took that beating. Next time, just call me for help since you obviously need it.”

He almost got slapped for that.

“Seriously, a child could disarm a bomb better than you did. You’re lucky I was here to shield you. Guess that means you owe me one.”

He was really just asking for it at this point.

“Wow, you really must be desperate. You know, just cause most of us do wear skin-tight clothing for our suits doesn’t mean we go around just trying to show our butt to every guy that walks by unless you’re Nightwing. But either way, Superman’s not going to fuck you just cause you’ve got a fat ass.”

Somehow, everyone knew it was you, turning their gazes in your direction when Hal walked into the tactical meeting with a bloody nose and a big purple bruise on his cheek.

But you’d think Hal getting his shit rocked would get him to start backing off and leaving you alone. Again, this was Hal fucking Jordan we were talking about. The man couldn’t recognize a back-off warning if it punched him in the face. Which, you did…hard.

Apparently, that was all he needed to turn up his asshole behavior to another level.

You’d swear this man was a teenager in high school. He’d hide stuff like your phone or civilian clothes around the Watchtower when you were in the showers after a training session or workout. Always going out of his way to one-up you on missions, proving his ‘superiority’ over you. He took your suit and dyed it your least favorite color (how he knew that was a mystery), making you the posterboard joke of the League for a week until they could get the dye out.

All because you commented how Batman would have a better chance in a fight against Superman than him because he took time to study his opponent and used whatever resources he had on him or around him while Hal was too busy living up his own ass to remember to charge his ring sometimes.

You’d even brought up how Hal got his ass handed to him twice in under five minutes when he met Superman for the first time during the Darkseid invasion.

It was a fair point!

“Okay, I get it. You’re upset. But Hal has actually been quiet lately, hasn’t he?” Clark stated, trying to find a middle ground. He’d been hoping you two would have found a resolution by now while the others made bets on when you would snap and who’d be the victor in the fight that surely would never happen.

Yeah, no. This was more entertaining than some of the missions they went on.

Though, your comrades, including Clark, were not aware of something. Why you were so mad right now was also tied to the reason Hal had calmed down in his routine of making your life hell in front of everyone. Now, he was doing it behind closed doors.

It was last week. You were in the command center, studying over some paperwork Batman assigned to you so you could understand protocols and codes more. It was quiet in the Watchtower, considering most of the heroes were either off on a mission or doing whatever they do in their personal lives. The quiet was enjoyable, or at least it was until a certain brown-haired pest came and disturbed your peace.

You did your best to ignore him, but the motherfucker was persistent. At one point, he’d grabbed the papers you were reading and held them away from you when you tried to get them back. He laughed at the frustration on your face making your fist twitchy again to re-introduce itself to his cheek.

“Hal, give me back those files. I need to finish reading over them before tomorrow.” You demanded, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Aw, does the little rookie have to finish his homework, or Daddy Batman might ground him?” He mocked you in a baby voice. You eyed the papers he kept trapped in a green bubble, moving them away from you anytime you got too close.

The sixth or seventh time he yanked it out of your grip, you were seriously ready to murder this man.

“Oh my god, why are you so insufferable!? What do I have to do to get you to leave me alone?” You snapped.

“You know you love me. Though, it’s hard for me to tell since you’re always spending so much time with Superman and never actually pay any attention to me.” He replied.

You couldn’t believe your ears, “Are you fucking kidding me? You constantly fuck with and annoy me just because you want attention?”

“That’s what I just said, didn’t I?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to hold on to the #1 rule Batman taught you about not killing. Though it wasn’t really working at this moment.

“Hal, have you ever once considered that maybe I don’t want to be around you because all you do is talk about yourself or find ways to insult and degrade others because you’ve got an ego the size of the galaxy?”

“Yes. But, in my defense, I’m horribly insensitive.” He stated with an indifferent expression.

At least he was aware of it.

“Oh, my god. Fine, whatever. If I spend the next ten minutes with you doing whatever you want, will you leave me in peace for the rest of the night?”

His eyebrows shot up in an intrigued manner.

“Whatever I want?” He asked, clarifying your statement.

You nodded your head but suddenly felt like you should have just turned around and left the room when you saw the smile on his face.

“Deal.” He said, holding his hand out for a handshake.

Oh, now he wants to shake hands.

You grasped his gloved hand, feeling the fitness from his grip. You also felt his thumb tracing up the back of your own hand, but you decided to ignore that.

“Alright. Now, what do you want?” You asked after releasing your hand from his.

Without saying anything, he walked around you and sat at the long table, turning around in the swivel seat with his legs open.

“Get on your knees.” He ordered.

Now, your own eyebrows were shooting up.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, get on your knees,” He repeated, the cocky smirk returning to his face, “You’re gonna suck my dick.”

“I’m sorry, do you want me to punch you again?”

“No, I want my dick sucked. Am I not being clear enough? Put your lips around my penis and suck it.”

“Are you actually being serious right now?”

“You said whatever I wanted. Well, this is what I want. Now will you honor that, or will Batman have to hear about your failure in doing your assigned reading?” He said, a cheeky expression in his look towards you.

You considered just walking out the door. But, you also knew Batman would only assign you more reading to do on top of extra training if you didn’t finish this by the morning. So, you swallowed your pride and moved in front of the masked man, getting on your knees.

“That’s a good boy.” He smiled, looking down at you with leering eyes as you began to pull down his pants. You didn’t know you could even do that with his suit. You thought it was all just one piece since it would fully come on or off depending on if he had his ring on or not.

This bastard.

After that, Hal made it his mission to keep pestering you whenever you were busy in hopes he could get another blowjob. Though, it did help in keeping him out of your hair for the most part. Only, he still got extra aggressive a couple of times whenever he knew you were with Superman or even mentioned his name.

“Y/N!” Clark yelled, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Huh?” You asked, coming back to reality.

“I said Hal’s been quiet recently, hasn’t he? He’s been leaving you alone, right?” The Kryptonian asked.

Before you could answer, you looked down the hallway and saw a familiar green mask staring at you. That same dark expression in his eyes, staring at you and the blue and red-clad superhero next to you as you two were talking. Was he there the entire time?

Before Superman could notice him, he walked around the corner, but not before stopping to grab his crotch, shaking it at you before heading around the corner. You could expect a visit from him later on.

You turned back to Clark, not sure why you were about to lie for this man.

“Yeah, no. He’s been leaving me alone. He’s still a cocky bastard, though.”

☀️ | Hal Jordan/Green Lantern | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

NSFW Version (Patreon)

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