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sleepyconfusedpotato · 23 days

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⚔️ Task Force 141 - NFL AU 🏈

by me (sleepyconfusedpotato) and @alypink ! This AU will include some Original Characters made by us both!

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New Hampshire 141s, a new rising american football team whose players dominantly came from the United Kingdom, is ready to face the NFL season!

As the previous Head Coach, Herschel von Shepherd got fired by the General Manager MacMillan, John Price (who has roots in rugby) got chosen by MacMillan to bring the team to victory. Let us see which players caught Coach Price's eyes!

John Price (HC)

John Price was born in Liverpool, England, but moved to America when he was still very young due to his father being deployed from the military to an American base. Although his father retired a couple of years later, they decided to stay in America. He grew up loving sports as a child but American football always piqued his interest more than any other sports. He played safety in middle and high school, but in his junior year, he had Meniscal tears that prevented him from ever playing again. John was heavily depressed after his injury, one day one of his close friends, Nikolai, who was also one of his fellow teammates on his high school team, told him to cheer him up to go watch the team play or to attend the training camps, John agreed and started assisting to the games and eventually started to think about becoming a head coach. He was recommended by his former high school head coach to take the job as a defensive coordinator for the New Hampshire Wildcats, a college football team. His performance and playbook were impressive, leading the Wildcats to reach a bowl and winning it twice. He proved to be fit and ready for a professional football team in the NFL and was hired as a defensive coordinator by the New Hampshire 141’s, by the HC at that time, Herschel von Shepherd. His first two seasons were disastrous as there was friction between the players and their head coach, most of the players disagreed with Shepherd's decisions and playmaking. To add to that, he seemed to never care about the player's input or needs. Although in those seasons they held a record of 4 wins and 12 losses, the General Manager of the team noticed his defense was the best in the league for both points and yards, and also noticed that a good portion of his defense players were selected on the all-pro team of those two seasons. After the owner and GM fired Shepherd as a Head Coach, John took his place. In his first seasons with the 141s, he restructured the team and went to playoffs and one NFC championship. As he wanted to improve his team, he started attending college football games, he attended once a college game in which he met the offensive coordinator at the time, Aly, and after the game he met her to ask about some players he was interested in on her actual team, for QB and WR positions, they became acquaintance since that day and kept communication for some time, as she sent some prospects his way. She also requested his help every now and then, making him attend her games and inviting her over to watch the 141s too. After spending time together and sharing the same interests and love for football, they started to date but kept it low as two months later, John hired her as his new offensive coordinator.

#26 Kyle Garrick (WR)

the most responsible and reliable player of the team. Kyle’s dad was an ex-WR and a former head coach out of a college football team. His father is a very hardworking man and disciplines his son like a football player, and with that, comes a great expectation for Kyle since his high school years. Kyle is extremely reliable, responsible, and respected on and off the field. He is HC John Price's favorite due to his work ethic. Kyle believes in having discipline in everything he does to be one of the best. He keeps a picture of his girlfriend, Eleanor Graham (Ladybug) everywhere, especially in his locker room as he says she brings him good luck for catching the hail mary’s from Alex. Kyle and Alex met in Baylor University, where they played together and won many games, including several bowl games. They became best friends in and out of the football field, supporting each other infinitely. “You've got friends nearby.” On Alex’s quote, “I can throw the ball like ‘fuck it, he’s over there somewhere’ and Kyle would magically appear and catch the ball. He’s always at the right place.”

One day during practice Alex was throwing the ball too far to the left, which headed straight towards her head. On instinct and in an attempt to catch the ball, Kyle collided with Eleanor, which bruised her arms. Instead of being upset like how Kyle would expect her to react, she laughed loudly at him, saying that she chose to sit there. She knew the hazard of studying near a football field. Even though Eleanor said she can take care of her bruises, Kyle insisted on nursing her. (Alex SMILED ear to ear). They both met from time to time. Every practice, Kyle always looks for Eleanor on the side of the field. Eleanor’s laid-back personality often bothers Kyle as she's a damn med school student, but through her, Kyle learns how to slow down and live in the moment. Love bloomed between them and they became a couple midway through freshman year.

When Kyle was drafted to the NFL to be with Alex for New Hampshire 141s, Eleanor was there with him when he received the call from HC Price. Though Eleanor has to stay in Texas to continue her studies, Eleanor travels to New Hampshire often to visit Kyle.

#31 Alex Keller (QB)

Alex is the quarterback of the 141s, second draft pick and first QB of his university. He is very skilled and hard-working, he is in love with water girl Farah Karim and aspires to be like Tom Brady. He and Kyle Garrick (WR) met in their first year of freshman in University and they played since their first year as the duo of QB and WR (Burrow and Chase vibes) and were drafted together in the NFL draft by the same team. Young duo but very effective especially during the regular season. Alex Keller met Farah Karim in his rookie season during training camp in his first year and has been infatuated with her. Since then, he has tried to score ASAP or reach 4th down so he can sit on the bench and talk with her. Whenever he can, he visits and picks her up from University and helps her out whenever he can in anything she would need.

#70 Simon Riley (TE)

Simon Riley used to be a rugby player in England. He joined the rugby team during his college days and met Price as one of his coaches, who trained and guided him to become one of the most dominant flankers in college rugby. Unfortunately, though he’s always dependable whenever he’s on the field, Simon was often riddled with injuries. His quiet personality didn’t help his case either, bearing the pain in his left leg in silence, until one day, he tore his ACL during an important game which cost the team their winning chances. Simon rested for a whole year to heal his knee. Together with his familial struggle, he contemplated quitting being an athlete. That was until Coach Price offered him a fresh start in the USA. As a flanker is equivalent to the Tight End position in American football, Price told him that he would be perfect for the role. Simon was adamant at first as he was still injured and how he’d be able to completely heal from this devastating injury. But when he said that in America they could find him a good physiotherapist to help him heal his knee, he reluctantly accepted the offer. Simon got into the draft and was a first-round pick due to how much of a good player he was in rugby. On his first day on the team, he met the other players who got drafted, but the most important and the most fateful meeting was when he got introduced to Charlotte Le Jardin (nickname Jade to simplify her last name), a physiotherapist that Laswell had promised help him to heal his ACL and help him regain his top form. It was a rough road, but with every step he took, Jade was there to help him. Now, every injury he has he doesn’t stay on the sidelines but goes inside the tent or the stadium so he can be checked by her. Whenever Jade’s out watching the game, he scores more than usual or gets distracted. He often carries the team, especially during the conference championship games.

#71 Johnny MacTavish (RB)

Johnny MacTavish was born and raised in Scotland. After high school, he was offered an academic and sports scholarship to a prominent university in the USA. He began his football career when he was a freshman at University as a very talented runner, which elevated him as the starter RB on his fifth game. In his senior year he was awarded the Heisman Trophy winner at college, but due to a shoulder injury, he missed being the top pick at the draft. He was later selected by the New Hampshire 141s and got put in as a starter as soon as he got drafted. He has good chemistry with his team but gets injured by overdoing himself or trying to tackle defensive players on the other team. He is also constantly with Jade for treatment and often misses important playoff games. Johnny is a very talented running back and that is why HC Price can’t get rid of him no matter how he misses practices and meetings and how his personal life affects his performance on the field. He always tries to take his friend Simon Riley to social gatherings and social media, but he completely shuts him down every time. That's different on the field though, as whenever Johnny's going to play a run, Simon will always be there in front of him to push the tacklers away, making way for Johnny to score a first down or a touch down. They're an unstoppable duo together. Johnny is very popular among female fans, making his jersey the one with the most sales every year. His dating story is pretty large and his games are always attended by the women he dates (which constantly changes).

some memes I made 😭

Here's the Hereford 141S' Logo and jersey design! The logo is heavily inspired by the Task Force 141's logo, so it's pretty much just a sporty twist of the logo!

More characters underneath the cut!

#11 Alejandro Vargas (MLB) and #22 Rodolfo Parra (OLB)

(Drawing to be posted!)

Alejandro and Rudy both moved to El Paso, Texas when they started high school at the age of 14 years old. They were avid football (soccer) players during their time in Mexico, but when they started High School they began to play football. Both Alejandro and Rodolfo played as Linebackers, Ale being MLB and Rodolfo being OLB. They did amazing in High School then they both received a scholarship to attend the university in Dallas, Texas. Both of them were later selected to do the NFL Pathway program, for both of them. Being together since their childhood years, high school and university they were a packaged deal and were both selected on the same team, same position on the NFL draft. Alejandro is especially hyped when playing against Philip Graves, QB of the Dallas Shadows. They have had beef with each other on and off the field since they played against each other for the first time. Ale’s average sack during a game against Dallas is approximately 5 per game, he sometimes is way too harsh while tackling making him get a couple of flags whenever he blitzes and sacks. He’s often scolded by his friend Rudy, but he does not care as long as he can sack Graves.

Kate Laswell (Defensive Coordinator)

(Drawing to be posted!)

was raised in Virginia, USA. Both her parents and brothers loved football and so did she. Since elementary, she watched and never missed a game during weekends, she always had a fascination for the Chicago Bears and their ‘85 team. Her father told her about how that defense, without an extraordinary QB or offense made them win the superbowl and also made them the best defense of all time. After witnessing that season and that Superbowl, she fell in love with how the defense scheme in football works. Unfortunately professional football for women wasn’t an option, so she studied a lot to become a defensive coordinator. She studied day and night, memorizing the plays, analyzing games and creating new playbooks since she was young. She struggled a lot to have an opportunity since it was a male-dominated team. One of her childhood friends made it to the roster to become a defensive coordinator for the Colorado Buffaloes College Football Team, he was a good coach but not “impressive”. She supported him by attending his games but couldn't help but try to talk to him whenever she thought he could do better, often interrupting his play callings during his games to make him change the play, and it always worked. She and his friend attended a College Bowl, and met John Price at that game, the three of them watched the game and she started to tell both of them what adjustment she would do for both teams, and that piqued John’s interests as she was awfully right, he was impressed by how well she read offense’s routes and how she was able to change from a 3-4 or 4-3 to a hybrid defense. He decided to give her a chance and hired her as his new defensive coordinator for the 141’s and established a very good partnership and friendship with her ever since.

Farah Karim (Intern Physical Therapy Student - Watergirl)

(Drawing to be posted!)

Farah Karim is a university medical student who got an internship in his junior year of college to be the water girl and help around the New Hampshire 141s team. She comes from an immigrant family and is the pride and joy of her parents. She struggled so much in her younger years to pursue an education and get into a good college in the USA, she managed to get a scholarship due to her great school performance and was given the chance to work with a professional football team. She met Alex Keller after his rookie season and developed a close friendship with them that later turned into a romantic interest. She is grateful for his help and also supports him during games. Her classmates usually bug her by asking Farah to let them meet Alex or to set them up with him, which she dislikes very much.

(OC) Alyssa Martinez (Offensive Coordinator)

Aly was born in Mexico and moved to the USA thanks to a scholarship she received when she graduated from High School and moved to Texas to attend college. As soon as she graduated from Texas A&M holding a Bachelor of Science in Sport Management, she started working as an offensive coordinator at a local highschool. She then escalated to being an offensive coordinator for the College she attended. Aly managed to take the team to a College Bowl where she met 141s Head Coach John Price and became acquaintances after that game, they kept communication after that game, as Aly asked for suggestions for her playbook and she helped Price on suggesting him prospects for the upcoming draft selection and also players on free agency. She was later hired by Price as his offensive coordinator and they began to have a low key romantic relationship. She specializes in West Coast offense, having her team play the Air Coryell scheme. She suggested Price to draft Alex Keller as he was the perfect pocket passer that would fit their offense perfectly. She’s an avid Tom Brady fan.

(OC) Charlotte Le Jardin (Physical Therapist)

Originally from England, Jade was adopted by an American couple and moved with them to the United States at an early age. Her parents, Eli and Gracie, worked at Bravo Stadium, home of the 141s, and Jade became a constant presence on the sidelines. As time went by, the Bravo Stadium became her home. Jade started helping around the sidelines bringing water, towels, medical kits, and even helping out in the blue tent, all the while completing her college in biological science and doctor of physical therapy (DPT), and of course, licensing in Physical Therapy. When she got her license, her experience was already on par with the other physiotherapists since she had been jumping from senior to seniors, learning and practicing all she could. Kate Laswell who has been seeing Jade there since she was a teenager, hired Jade as one of the many physiotherapists for 141s, and with that came a fateful challenge: a newcomer Tight End with a torn ACL from his rugby days, who’s trying to get back to his top form in order to play in the NFL.

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PHEW so there you have it! If you've read it this far, oh my LORD me and Aly love you so much! This is a pretty severe brainrot that we had, so hope you like it!

And let's enjoy the 2024 NFL Season 🏈🏈🏈

Hope you like it! 🥰🥰

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madridfangirl · 2 months

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Making up after a fight - Jude Bellingham blurb

A/n - fluff, angst, comfort, suggestive

900 words. Jude*female reader.

……………………………………………………………………

‘You were amazing today. Congrats on the MOTM, so well deserved!’

You hit send, hoping for a response. You were supposed to be at the match, supporting him. But the two of you had gotten into an ugly fight just this morning. Which, in hindsight, was kinda your fault. But, hindsight is a bitch and you were downright furious in the morning.

A particular reel on your insta feed, of Jude with an upcoming Spanish actress, is what you had woken up to. The woman was gorgeous, and way too obvious with Jude - the hair flicks, side eyes, giggles, touching the arm for that extra second, all straight out of the playbook.

The hug though is what enraged you the most. Coz Jude had also wrapped both arms around her, not the typical one arm shoulder hug thing he usually did with other women. That, combined with the fact that Jude liked the pics she posted of the meeting made you blow your top.

To be fair, you had tried to avoid the fight before an important CL match, the first home KO match in-fact. But Jude had gotten impatient with your radio silence, pestered you for a call and then you couldn’t hold back.

He tried to explain that she was working on a social media campaign for RM, and other players had liked the post too. But you had shot back saying that was no reason for him to let that woman feel him up.

Jude was frustrated, and lost his cool too. This was not a new fight. You two had been here way too many times. Usually he was patient, knowing that his lifestyle was not ideal for a new relationship, but the timing of it, right before one of the most crucial matches of his career, is what irked him.

So yeah, it ended up with you not attending the match. Not even sending him a good luck message before the match, something you had never missed in the last 4 months since your first date. To top it off, you even used a nuclear weapon that you knew would set him off. By mentioning a colleague of yours who Jude hated with all the bones in his body.

It was only when you saw another angle of the video (taken on phone by other attendees) that you realised you had overreacted. The woman was still pathetic but Jude did pull back immediately from the hug, and maintained his distance. But, it was too late by then and the match had already started.

‘I am so proud of you, Jude.’

You were still on texts. Fully aware that if you call and he disconnects / doesn’t pick up, it will hurt you & your ego both.

The messages were seen. No response. It was now 1.5 hours after the match. He would be home already or on the way.

‘Wish I had been there, instead of moping all day.’

‘Why? That fucker wasn’t good company?’

Well at-least that was a response. At least.

‘Jude, I didn’t go. I wouldn’t. You know that.’

‘You had no problem throwing that in my face though.’

He was right, you could see that. It really was a low & petty blow. If only you were as clear headed in the morning.

‘I am sorry, baby. For that & everything else today. For assuming all those things without hearing you out. Really, I am.’

No response for 2 minutes, which made her anxious.

‘Don’t think I am cheating, then? Don’t think I am going to her right now or went to her last night?’

He was goading her, she could tell. But he was hurting too, that also she could tell.

‘No, I don’t.’

‘Why the change of heart, when you were so convinced earlier?’

He wasn’t gonna make it easy for her.

‘Is that important? Look, I know I messed up. I know I ruined what could have been a great day for us. You really should be celebrating right now instead of feeling shitty. And I really really am sorry, Jude. Pls can we just get over this?’

A pregnant pause, again.

She doubled down with another nuclear weapon in her kitty.

‘I love you. So much it hurts. Yes I do get crazy sometimes but you know, in your heart you know where it’s coming from.’

If this doesn’t work, she won’t know what else to do.

1 minute later, her phone flashed.

‘I needed you today.’

She clutched the phone to her chest, sighing deeply, sensing his resignation.

‘I know, honey. Promise I will be there for the next big game. And whenever else you need me.’

‘It was so shitty to play like this. Not knowing where we stand. Not knowing if you were anywhere near that asshole. Might have tackled some of the guys extra hard today.’

‘Again, I am so so sorry. But I am also super proud that despite all this you still came out on top. Like you always do.’

Jude read and re-read the text a few times, sat in his car. She always knew what she was doing so this couldn’t just be a coincidence.

‘Tryna tempt me?’

‘Depends - is it working?’

‘Be careful what you wish for, doll. I don’t have a handle on myself today.’

‘Wanna come here & show me what that’s like?’

‘Gonna ask one more time - are you sure?’

‘Uh-huh. I do deserve some disciplining today, don’t you think?’

‘I’ll be there in 20. And doll, you may have to take an off tmrw.’

……………………………………………

#jude bellingham #bellingham #jude #real madrid #jb5 #jb #jude fanfic #bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham imagine #Jude bellingham blurb

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13uswntimagines · 3 months

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The Royal Playbook (Alessia X Leah X Royal!R)

Summary: It wasn't often that you used your name or your titles, but to see your girlfriends, you would do just about anything. Even if it means going head-to-head with your new security.

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, but otherwise nothing. It's a fluff piece.

Your life was complicated. Well… that may have been putting it lightly.

Everything in your life had been planned for you since well before you were born. You had a tutor, an etiquette instructor, and an equestrian coach from the moment you came screaming into the world. Along with a security detail and a personal team of butlers to help you navigate life.

It was simple, you would be academically trained, coached in diplomacy (and swordsmanship as was customary on Braavos), and exposed to different cultures so that you could continue to lead your country like your father and his mother before him. You would marry a foreign diplomat, and make political bonds that would strengthen your little island nation’s place in Europe.

Falling in love had never been a part of that plan.

Neither had your absolute obsession with football. Specifically, your obsession with English football.

But your parents had taken it in stride and were far more accepting than you had any right to believe they would be. They were supportive even after they found out you preferred the fairer sex, and they absolutely adored the women who had stolen your heart.

You happened to adore them too.

Well, something stronger than adore.

You would do anything for them.

They made you willing to break all of the carefully constructed rules you had grown up with. They made you forget the weight of responsibility that had been balanced on your shoulders since your coronation date was set the day you turned 16.

They treated you like Y/n instead of Her Majesty the heir to the throne. They made you feel normal.

It killed you that you couldn’t be… open with your relationship. That having the world know would put them in the firing line.

You sighed, leaning back into the leather seat as the SUV slowed, turning in front of the Emirates. The dark window tint blocked out the flashing lights, and the thousands of pounds of armor plating dulled the chanting from the throngs of people. The little flags on the cars in your motorcade told them all who was inside, even if they didn’t know which of the 4 cars you were in.

You shifted, tugging at the hem of your jersey. “Do you think we’ll make it in time for warmups?”

The new material was still tight on your skin, so much different than the cotton dress shirts you normally wore, and the two little names above your favorite number felt unnaturally… weighted.

They were in a way. As soon as a photographer caught a picture of them, your secret would be out.

“I’ve sent a team ahead to clear your entrance and the box you’ll be staying in, so as long as we can get through this crowd we should make it,” Davis said, glancing up at you in the rearview mirror. “I know they’re your favorite part,”

You hummed, glancing back out of the darkened windows at the masses of people dressed in white and red.

A part of you envied them.

You would never be able to walk into a stadium through its entrance. You would never get to see the mural of the team that existed in the main hall of the Emirates. You would never get to sit in the supporters section, surrounded by the various chants.

The other, larger part knew how much you despised being surrounded by people. How claustrophobic it made you feel, and how hard it made it for you to breathe.

But you still wondered if it would be different if those people weren’t carrying cameras and screaming for your attention. You wondered if watching your girlfriends do the things they loved would negate how incredibly uncomfortable you got when people were too close.

“It just completes the whole experience,” You mumbled into the glass.

Davis made a noise of agreement. “Yes, it does,”

He knew that one of the reasons you loved it so much was because it gave you time to not have to think. To just exist in a space where you weren’t the air to the throne. Where all that mattered was what was happening in front of you.

You didn’t have to say it for him to know.

He could read you like a book. He had experienced every day of your life with you. He acted more like a father than your own father did, and you trusted him implicitly.

The car inched forward, past another gaggle of people holding their phones up to video the caravan.

“We might have to go with plan b if Her Majesty wishes to see the warmups,” Your driver said more to Davis than to you.“There’s an obstruction ahead,”

Your eyebrows pulled tightly together as the car crawled forward through the growing crowd.

Your head of security made a gruff sound, already lifting his phone and speaking rapidly into the receiver.

You barely paid attention to what he was saying. It didn’t really matter anyway.

You knew he would explain when they had a plan, just like he had always done before.

The car came to a stop, and men dressed in bright yellow jackets came pouring out of an entrance you hadn’t recognized, forming a human tunnel.

Davis turned in his seat to face you.

“We’re going to go in a different entrance. I’ll guide you, Gabriel and Tomas will flank us,” He explained. “It’s 16 steps to the door. Stadium security will make sure that they’re unobstructed,”

You hummed. “Will you cover my back?”

It wasn’t that you were ashamed to wear your Loves names.

It actually made you incredibly proud and had a warmth blooming in your chest that was hard to explain.

But you weren’t quite ready to share that with the world yet.

You wanted to protect them from your world for as long as you could. To prevent the people who didn’t agree with your family’s policies from hurting them to get to you.

“My jacket will block you,” Davis assured you, understanding glinting in his eyes. “We’re ready whenever you are,”

You leaned back into the leather seat, glancing at the little walkway that had been created. Fans pressed against it, and you could imagine the wall of sound that would meet you.

You flipped your sunglasses down over your eyes. “Let’s get this over with,”

“I’ll get out and open your door,” Your security chief said, reiterating the protocol you always followed when you had to exit your car in a crowd.

You nodded, never looking away from the window.

You took a deep breath when the car door opened, letting in the onslaught of screams and cheers. They only got louder when Davis opened your door and held his hand out to help you out of the car.

He shielded you as soon as your feet were both on the ground, wrapping an arm over your shoulders, directly blocking the names on your back.

You tucked your face into his chest, closing your eyes at the roar of squeals and cheers that met you.

You never did like crowds.

You felt Tomas take up your other side and counted down the steps in your head as they guided you through the crowd. You didn’t look up at the calls of your name, or the blinding flashes of light, or the jostling that your security tried to protect you from.

This was routine.

The press didn’t pay for photos when your face wasn’t clearly visible.

You let out a long breath when the entrance doors closed solidly behind you.

“It’s over little commander,” Your burly chief of security mumbled into your hair when you didn’t immediately begin to untangle yourself from him, running his hand up and down your back.

You really didn’t like crowds.

You sucked in another long breath before carefully pulling away from him.

“Thank you,” You said, straightening your hair and jersey. Smiling just a bit at the name he had given you after an incident involving your country’s general and an assassin when you were five.

“I don’t think anyone caught a photo of your jersey, your majesty. The Captain's jacket was covering the lettering,” Gabriel added, glancing out the glass doors. “Though I think it’ll be harder to hide if we leave with guests. We’ll also need extra security,”

It made you sigh.

Gabriel was not a bad person, but he was young, and far too serious all of the time.

He hadn’t learned that you didn’t need to know all of the inner workings of their operation yet, or that you were the one who would dictate what you wanted.

You hadn’t even decided if your girlfriends would be leaving with you yet, and when you did, Davis would work it out.

He always figured it out.

“We’ll cross that bridge later,” Davis said, glaring at the younger guard (they would pull the SUV on the fucking field if that’s what it took), before his eyes returned to you, softening. “First, I believe your attendant is waiting to scan your ticket,”

Your eyes lit up at the prospect, looking past your burly squad towards a very shy looking girl.

“I can scan you in,” The girl's voice shook as she spoke, her eyes darting towards your guards before meeting yours again. “Your majesty,”

You rolled your eyes at the title.

You hated it as much now as you had when you first learned you would be your fathers successor. As much as when people started using when you were 16 and your coordination date was set for the day you turned 22.

Davis passed you a paper ticket and nudged you forward.

It was a superfluous detail that your girlfriends had teased you mercilessly about.

No one used paper tickets anymore, they said. Everything was mobile, not that you had ever needed an actual ticket.

You stepped towards the girl, holding out the ticket with a grin.

She very gently took it, running it under the little scanner. You walked past her after it beeped.

It was nice to get the full experience, even if it was a bit outdated.

“We’ll take that back,” Davis said, as the girl turned to throw the scrap of paper away.

He reached for the ticket, tucking it into his jacket for safe keeping.

“To the box little commander?” He asked you directly, stepping past the girl.

You shook your head, a smirk playing at your lips. “I think a little… exploration is in order first. Especially since we’ve never come into the stadium this way before,”

“Lead the way then,” He matched your smirk, gesturing for you to head down the hallway. “The mural you’re obsessed with is to the left,”

Your eyes brightened again and you looked down the hallway he had gestured to.

You would definitely have to check it out before warmups started.

******

Alessia and Leah were… distracted, even as they passed the ball back and forth.

Warmups had barely started and they couldn’t help the way their eyes kept falling to the box now occupied by a tall, bald man in a well-tailored suit, his aviators reflecting the field back at them.

They should have expected it. Tomas was always the first of your personal team to arrive to a location, but usually, you followed closely behind him.

“The queen has arrived,” Millie chuckled, intercepting the ball Leah had passed towards Alessia.

“She’s not queen yet,” Alessia huffed.

“How could I forget? The coronation isn’t for 2 more months,” Millie said, waving her arm dramatically.

Leah rolled her eyes. “3 more months, actually,”

“And Y/n isn’t exactly counting down the days,” Alessia added, stealing the ball back. “She doesn’t seem too keen on the title,”

“I’m not surprised,” Ella said, catching the ball when Alessia tried to pass it to Leah. “She got mobbed coming into the stadium,”

Leah’s eyebrows furrowed. “I thought she was using the player entrance,”

You had discussed the plan with them in detail during your nightly phone conversation, asking about the location of the locker rooms in relation to the entrance your security wanted you to use.

They weren’t sure if you intended to surprise them before or after the match, but it didn’t really matter.

“Apparently not,” Ella said, skirting around the forward's outstretched leg and passing it to Millie. “I saw the clip before we came out here. Looked like they formed a wall of security and then ushered her in the front gate,”

Leah and Alessia shared a look.

They knew how much you disliked being in a crowd.

They could picture you tucked into your security chief’s chest like a small child, trying to hide yourself from the noise of the crowd. It was an image that had been splashed across front pages of newspapers more times than they could (or wanted) to count. It still never failed to break their hearts.

“I never realized how big her security team was,” Ella mumbled, glancing up at the box again. “Like physically. They’re fucking mountains,”

More of your team had joined Tomas, all wearing the same black suits and dark aviators, tall, and muscular.

They looked intimidating. Like they could take down any threat that would come at you.

Neither Alessia nor Leah had any doubt that they would.

Alessia shrugged. Frankly, they had both been very nervous too until you had actually introduced them to your security. They learned quickly to expect pranks from your security when they weren’t on duty, and that their protectiveness extended to them as well as you when they were.

Considering all 12 members of your team had given them the shovel talk, they knew you were in very good hands. Hands that looked out for your mental health as well as your physical health.

“Looks like she only brought half her team,” Leah hummed, counting the men in the suite, noting your missing head of security. He would certainly be wherever you were, and she found it slightly strange you weren’t in the box yet.

You hated missing warmups.

But then a group standing near the benches, behind Serina caught her eyes.

There were 4 tall, burly men surrounded by stadium workers dressed in bright orange vests.

“Maybe not,” Alessia mumbled, her gaze also falling to the growing crowd behind the benches. “She doesn’t usually try to come down to the field,”

“She’s never had to come through the front door before either,” Leah answered.

Ella wiggled her eyebrows, shimming between them. “Maybe she wants to do something wild before she has the weight of a country on her back,”

“She already has that,” Both blonde women said in unison, eyes snapping away from the sea of orange towards the midfielder.

“She’s had that since her father put her in charge of their trade negotiations,” Alessia added. “And their UK commerce,”

Frankly, you had been taking more and more responsibility for years. Trying to gain the trust of your people so the transition of power was an easy one. A safe one.

An uncontested one.

“And she’s been doing a bang-up job,” Leah said, just as Davis appeared in the mix of security next to a blonde man she had never seen before. “She’s actually coming in the field,”

“You mean we finally get to meet the Queen?” Millie said dramatically, standing on her tiptoes to catch a glimpse of you, the ball forgotten at her feet.

Alessia slapped her stomach. “You’ve met her before. You tried to get her drunk after our Euros win and convince her to fly the England flag on her father’s palace,”

“Details,” Millie rolled her eyes, shoving the striker. “How can she see through the mass of people though?”

“It’s a special formation,” Leah grumbled, pushing Millie, and stealing the ball they had all disregarded as she moved it forward she saw Davis shift and the flash of a pair of aviators. You were certainly on the field. “Designed so she can see out but no one can see her. They’re trying not to draw attention,”

Ella snorted. “Well, they failed at that,”

It was true.

The fans in the stands seemed to be clamoring over themselves to see why there was a substantial crowd near the benches.

Leah and Alessia shared a look.

They both knew how much you hated attention. It was why you usually stayed in your box and came in through back entrances. They joked you were like a ghost coming to their games, never seen or heard.

But this. This was different.

Before they could respond Geriant clapped his hands, “Alright ladies let’s do some through balls on goal. Lineup,”

Leah tapped him the ball and followed Alessia to the back of the line.

There would be time later to figure out why you had come down in the field.

Right now they had to focus on beating Australia, especially if they wanted a good game kiss from you after the game.

You only kissed winners.

******

You shifted awkwardly as you leaned against the cool, stone wall outside the locker rooms, playing with the identification lanyard around your neck.

It wasn’t often that you used your… status to get into areas no fans could. That you finagled your way into the tunnel of the stadium after a game.

You were much more prone to letting your security whisk you in and out so you weren’t seen and no one knew if you were actually there, but today, you had been feeling bold.

Well, kind of.

Davis had been the one to suggest that seeing warmups at field level might be fun if you were going to venture to see the mural.

You had agreed.

And he had been right.

You had gotten to chat with Serina about tactics and formations while getting a close-up view of your girlfriends in action, even if it was just warmups.

You had gone back up to your fancy box for the game, but couldn’t resist Serina’s invitation to wait for the team in the tunnel after.

That’s how you ended up here, shifting nervously from foot to foot while the players made their mandatory lap around the field.

It wasn’t really being in the tunnel that had you on edge. It was that Davis had gone to coordinate your motorcade out of the stadium, and left you with Gabriel. You didn’t feel as… safe with the blonde man, and his seriousness was really starting to set you off.

You would have to very carefully bring it up with Davis later, though you hated doing anything that could potentially make his job harder.

“Can you, um, not stand so close please?” you mumbled, as he pressed more closely to you as players from the Australian team started to make their way down the tunnels. “I want to say hello to the players,”

Gabriel shook his head, standing firmly. “They haven’t been checked through security,”

“They just played a match,” You rolled your eyes, pushing him away from you, trying to create some space. “I doubt any of them are smuggling a weapon between here and the locker room, or have Ill intent,”

They were your friends. People, your girlfriends played with every day. People you had spent a lot of time with. People who saw you as a person and not as a title. They wouldn’t cause you harm.

“We can’t take that risk, Your Majesty,” Gabriel answered, already pressing back to pin you between his back and the wall, as his head whipped back and forth.

You shoved him off of you more harshly, stumbling with the force. “I told you to go away. Why don’t you go stand at the front of the tunnel if you’re so worried,”

You would have face-planted had strong arms not caught you.

“Whoa there Princess,” Leah’s warm voice chuckled in your ear, using the term of endearment that annoyed you when it came from anyone but your girlfriends. “You only had to fall for me once,”

“Leah,” Your shoulders instantly relaxed at her voice, and you looked up to meet her eyes. “You guys played so well!”

She smiled brilliantly at you, and you leaned up to place a gentle kiss on her lips.

It only lasted a second before a large hand appeared between you.

“No physical contact please,” Gabriel said, looking incredibly uncomfortable. “It’s policy,”

You glared at the side of his face.

You were definitely going to have to talk to Davis about this.

“What about me pretty girl?” Alessia asked, materializing to Gabriel’s right. “Do I not deserve a kiss too?

“You definitely do. That goal was a fucking banger,” You said, pulling away from the defender, and throwing out a foot mocking the way Alessia had smashed the ball. “Lee crossed it in and then woosh,”

You threw your arms out, mimicking the goal celebration that Alessia did. The one that reminded you of an airplane, right into her waiting grasp.

She leaned forward, brushing your nose with her. “You’re adorable,”

You closed the last millimeter, connecting your lips in a gentle kiss.

She tasted like mint gum, and blue Gatorade, and something so… Alessia. She tasted like home.

“And you look very fit with our names on your back,” Leah added, running her fingers across the bold letters across your shoulders before she wrapped her arms around the two of you.

You buried your face in Alessia’s chest to hide the red blooming across your cheeks, earning a giggle from both women.

“Your majesty, I don't feel comfortable with this situation,” Gabriel said, clearing his throat, and stepping into your space. He leaned down and lowered his voice like he thought it would prevent Leah and Alessia from hearing him. “We’re in too public of a place. It’s not befitting of the crown,”

You froze, your back going rigid.

It was one thing for him to not understand personal boundaries. For him to be hyper-vigilant.

You could chalk that up to his… newness.

But this. This you could not tolerate.

Your fingers caught Alessia’s top before she could pull away, forcing her to stay pressed against you, as your other hand reached back to hold Leah’s hip. You didn’t need them to move. You didn’t want them to move.

You took a deep breath before pulling your face out of Alessia’s chest to stare daggers at the bulky, blonde man.

“Call for backup,” You said, your voice deadly calm.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “There’s no need. I have it-“

“It wasn’t a request,” You cut him off icily. “Call for backup now, or I will do it myself,”

He paused at your tone, glancing at the teammates and friends that had been on their way to the locker room, also frozen at the foreign chill in your voice.

It was the tone you saved for meetings with world leaders you didn’t particularly like. Ones with foreign dignitaries who thought they could walk all over you, your family, and your country.

He took a step back, lowering his voice like he was talking to a child. “Your majesty, I don’t think this is a proper conversation to have with an audience,”

You weren’t in the mood to be scolded.

“And I don’t care what you think,” You bit back, letting go of Leah’s hip to reach up to your necklace, pressing the bottom button hidden on the pendant twice.

The signal that you needed assistance, but it wasn’t emergent or life-threatening.

Still, within 30 seconds Tomas was rounding the corner near the locker rooms, speed walking towards you. The crowd of white and yellow jerseys parted for him like he was Mosis.

You were slightly disappointed it wasn’t Davis, but Tomas would do.

“Little commander,” He nodded his head in greeting, his eyes flickering across the scene before returning to you. “How can I be of assistance,”

You appreciated that he had addressed you first.

That he acknowledged that you were the one in control here.

But Gabriel didn’t seem to get that message.

“Your presence isn’t needed,” The blonde security man huffed, “Her majesty is throwing a temper tantrum,”

Alessia’s fingers tightened around your hips, and you didn’t have to look at her to see the scowl pulling across her lips. Leah’s arms similarly squeezed around your shoulders and you knew daggers were being thrown his way.

Had this been any other circumstance you were sure the growing crowd of footballers would have oooed.

Not that you needed them.

You had this all under control.

“Take Gabriel to the exit,” You said evenly, command and… dominance, radiating through the simple words. “or to the dumpster or the Thames. I don’t really care but get him away from me. He is relieved of his duty,”

The blonde security man sputtered. “You can’t do that. I’m-“

“Actually I can,” You cut him off. “I can do whatever the fuck I want. Tomas, please remind Gabriel of the terms of his service,”

Tomas cleared his throat, suppressing a grin. “We serve at the pleasure of our charge, Her Majesty, Princess of Braavos, heir to the throne,”

Your chest puffed a bit at your full title.

One you generally despised, but it served its purpose here.

“And you certainly have not… pleasured me. Not that you’re capable,” Your lips turned upwards in a cruel smirk, as Alessia and Leah, and the surrounding crowd didn’t hold in their giggles. “Perhaps you should work on your listening, and little things called consent and common sense,”

“Let’s go,” Tomas caught Gabriel’s arms before he could protest or argue with you, not that there was anything he could say. The taller, balder security man made eye contact with you before he hauled Gabriel away. “Davis and Matthew will be by shortly. I’ve left Carson at the top of the tunnel and I’ll have him perform personal security until they arrive,”

You sent him a stiff nod, standing at your full height until they were out of sight before you let yourself collapse back into Alessia.

You would never. Could never truly be alone.

“I fucking hate doing that,” You groaned into her chest, and Leah leaned forward to press a kiss to the back of your neck.

“We know love,” The defender hummed into your soft skin, and Alessia made a sound of agreement, shooing the crowd of football players around you to go about their way.

“But on the bright side, you did look proper sexy,” Alessia said, gently pinching the skin just beneath the hem of your jersey. “Her Majesty, Princess of Braavos, heir to the throne,”

You couldn’t help the giggle that bugged from your lips at her terrible rendition of Tomas’ heavy accent. The one you worked incredibly hard to suppress.

It had come out slightly in the exchange, the only indicator that English was not your first language.

It was something that happened when you were annoyed, which was rare in itself. You didn’t like to wield your power, and thankfully, you usually didn’t have to in your personal life.

“For a second I thought you were going to yell at him in Valyrian,” Leah said, her lips working from the back of your neck up to just behind your ear.

You hummed. “I try not to do that in mixed company,”

Despite how much you had pushed against the mold of your upbringing, your impeccable manners could not be changed.

Plus you knew how much Leah and Alessia loved when you spoke in your native language. How… wound up… it made them. You didn’t want to associate your annoyance with that. Ever.

Alessia smirked. “So he can’t pleasure you?”

You rolled your eyes at the change in subject.

“No. He was only on my team for 3 days, and I wanted to strangle him for most of it,” Your lips pulled up in an impish smirk. “Plus I could tell that he’s never given out a feminominon in his fucking life,”

Leah mirrored the expression against your neck, and Alessia’s eyes sparkled.

“I think we could definitely show you what we know about feminominons,” Leah said, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin just below your ear.

“Would you like to shower with us?”Alessia’s thumb ran over the skin just above your pants. “We promise we won’t bite, “

“Unless you ask nicely,” Leah finished, her teeth grazing over the wet skin she had just kissed.

It was sometimes scary how they could finish each other's thoughts, though you weren’t convinced that this had been their endgame all along.

You melted into them, the rest of your annoyance fading.

“I would love nothing more,”

They nodded at Carson as they dragged you towards the locker room, the shorter, muscular man shifting to stand by the door, already talking into his earpiece.

You just needed some time with your girls.

It’s what you wanted and the security team would respect that and leave you undisturbed.

They served at your pleasure after all, and so did your girlfriends apparently.

Well, at least at the moment, they would serve to pleasure you.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #leah williamson x reader #alessia russo x leah williamson x reader #royal!reader #Royal Playbook Universe

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sweetbans29 · 6 months

Text

Sweetbans Masterlist 💛

Hi lovelies! Here is a place where you can see all of my writings (Little Miss Queen of Imagine Domesticity). I hope you enjoy!

Requests are currently CLOSED! Read more about requests! Please make sure to read the link above before sending in requests. I am averaging about 2 requests per week and will do my best to complete any request coming in. On that note, thank you for trusting me with your ideas, I truly appreciate it 🥹

Caitlin Clark 🤍

Hey You - A history worth revisiting

Hey You (PART 2) - A future worth fighting for

Be Here - 3 times you pull Caitlin out of her head

Now's Not the Time - 4 times you rile her up

Mia Bella - You and Caitlin meet at the dog park

Not Now - 4 times Caitlin riles you up

Greece - You go on a holiday to Greece

Spoken For - Your marriage with Caitlin comes to light

Should Have Been Me - Things will never be the same

Power Couple - You and Caitlin are known as the power couple

Eyes on You - You catch Caitlin's eye during a game

Friendship Bracelet - Meeting Caitlin at a TSwift concert

Come On Now - Caitlin being super proud of you

Crush - Caitlin has a crush on you

Sleepy - 3 times Caitlin falls asleep

That’s Mine - You don’t like when people take what’s yours

Little Ones - When talk becomes reality (baby edition)

Challenge Me (Spoken For part 2) - Your teams meet as UConn takes on Iowa

Match Me - Caitlin and you are known for your game day fits

Protector - 3 times Caitlin is overprotective

It’s Not You, It’s Them - Where you hide your parents from Caitlin

Long Way Home - Miscommunication leads to unnecessary heartache

Power Couple Part 2 - You and Caitlin take the Olympics

Feud - You and Caitlin navigate a long standing media feud

Mic'd - You forget you are mic's during practice

Out - You and Caitlin compliment each other well

Mistakes - They were made

Catch Me If You Can - Caitlin cracks your code

Bowling - Date night

Jersey - Caitlin’s game jersey belongs to you

Thinking of You - It’s all about timing

Train with me - Meeting Caitlin at the gym

Exposed - 3 times your relationship was almost exposed

Frustrated - Caitlin is frustrated

Rules - You have one rule

Little Flirt - Flirting goes on for way too long

Milkshakes - Prequel to Should Have Been Me

Biggest Fan - You are the Fever’s best fan

Varsity Jacket - You forget your jacket

Support - You are an advocate for CC

Long Way Home Pt. 2 - The after

Playbook - AKA your dad is your wingman

Wait for Me - HC of CC during pregnancy

Overprotective - She’s overprotective

Photograph - She loves the way you photograph her

You’re Mine - Jealous Caitlin

Hesitation Series - Slow is okay when it’s more than just you

Tiny Dancer - You dedicate your senior project to her

Capture This - Caitlin sees you in her future

Marked - Caitlin loves to leave marks

Pups - You’re Caitlin’s neighbor

Unmarked - Marked Pt 2

Flight - You hate flying

Stress Ball - Taking care of a stressed CC

Meatball - Photography AU

Paige Bueckers 💙

Teach Me (COMPLETED) - You ask Paige to teach you all you need to know about being intimate

The Ask

The Art of Kissing

The Art of Teasing

The Art of Practice

The Art of Touching

The Tragedy of Conflict

The Art of Confessing

The Art of You

Injured - You get hurt and Paige is there for you

Private - You and Paige try to keep to yourselves

Child - Mom Paige

Kate Martin 💛

Mascot - Kate has it down bad for the school mascot

Down Low - Dating Kate

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark masterlist #22 #paige bueckers #paige bueckers imagine #paige bueckers masterlist #5 #kate martin #kate martin imagine #kate martin masterlist #20

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 3 months

Text

A Night Forgotten

Part Three

It’s getting more intense 😈

On top of her earlier worries, now Emoni had an even bigger dilemma to contend with: her boss/secret crush was fully awake...and back to his usual mocking self.

Joy.

What was she going to do now? Her options seemed limited to throwing on her clothes lickety-split and pulling a runner or grabbing the sheet, wrapping it around herself, and demanding he—

The toilet flushed, the tap ran for a moment, and then Erik was standing in the open doorway, drying his hands on a towel. With a quick up and down glance, he took her in from head to toe, and a slow, devastating smile crawled up his cheek. "Well, well. It seems I finally got something right between us, my precious Emoni. It's about fucking time."

Emoni dashed across the room and tore the bedding from the mattress, wrapping the soft, cool satin around her naked body.

“A-ha! So, you don't remember what you did to me last night!" she stated, somewhat miffed by the thought.

Surely it hadn't been that bad a lay...had it?

She tossed him a baleful eye.

“Months of trying to get me on a date, months of both our friends hammering away at me to give you a chance, months of putting up with that humiliating interdepartmental betting pool regarding you and my panties...and you can't even remember fucking me, can you?" She made a pftttt sound and crossed her arms in righteous indignation. "Wow, Erik!"

He laughed. "What a little hypocrite you are, Princess, since it appears you're in the same boat I am...figuratively and literally speaking," he countered, crossing his bulging arms and leaning against the bathroom doorpost. "You can't recall a damn thing about last night, either, can you? Can you?"

Her whole body flushed with sexual awareness and her nipples went instantly hard as Erik challenged her.

How was it that this same defiant behaviour during their formative school days had made her itch to cut his balls off and feed it to him back then, but a dozen years later, now it only made her want to lick him all over instead?

It had to have something to do with the long, attractive package currently swinging between his legs, because as he moved, lounging so sexily in the bathroom doorway, she suddenly found herself staring at it with an eager and lusty appreciation. Gahdamn! it was beautiful! And long…and thick…and—Whatever.

She blinked and forcibly turned away, her cheeks burning. "Will you please put some clothes on so we can talk?" she requested. "You're...distracting."

The Prince actually chuckled at that. "Am I really? Well, then I'll have to politely decline, baby girl. I'm enjoying redirecting your attention towards other more profitable thoughts."

She clucked her tongue in annoyance. "You're arrogance is through the roof about all of this."

"This isn't conceit, Emoni. This is contentment."

"It certainly sounds to me as if your ego is doing all the talking today."

"Well, it's not."

She turned back and cast a cynical expression in his direction. "Then, you’re telling me you’re not happy to swagger and strut around because you finally had sex with me after all these years of trying every line in your playbook to stick your dick in me?!”

He stared hard at her. "No, I'm not. I am, however, feeling a sudden urge to spank that ass. Care to step up and volunteer?" He actually growled then. "And for your information, baby girl, I don’t need a playbook, it comes natural. Who's the arrogant one again?"

“How am I the arrogant one!?” She shouted defensively.

“Well,” Erik started counting off on his fingers, “You find every moment to announce how I’ve been chasing after you all this time. You do it as if you’ve been playing this game of making me wait—

She huffed, he sniffed.

"So, we’re gonna stand here and act like you haven’t been wanting a nigga for a while now? Come on, ma. I can see right through you. It sucks you gotta play games when I could have shown you some things.”

He sounded a bit sulky at that.

Emoni glanced at him sideways. Erik truly looked upset by her accusations, which told her more than his words ever could. Perhaps whatever had happened between them the night before hadn't been pre-planned by him, and he hadn't been responsible for her memory gaps, after all.

“Okay…so…nothing?” She questioned.

“Nothing—well…I can remember us dancing. I remember how I dragged you to the dance floor and we Had a ball,” Erik smirked at the fuzzy memory, “You were….all over me. It was definitely the drinks because you would never do no shit like that sober, but…your ex was PISSED. We shared a drink…”

Erik blinked rapidly a few times then his thick, unruly brows snapped together. He drew a blank.

“That’s…wow—that’s exactly what I remember last as well…what the fuck?”

“Weird, right?” Erik said.

Which left Emoni wondering how in hell it was she could ever have forgotten making love to him, because that had been an event she'd ached for and dreamed of for years. That she couldn't remember anything significant at all in the aftermath was not just a maddening mystery, but also terribly disappointing to her as well. With his own memory of the night apparently lost, too, now she'd never be able to know how it had been between them. Had they connected body-to-body, soul-to-soul as she'd always fantasized, or had it been merely about sating sexual hungers and agreeing to move on? That knowledge was lost forever, it seemed, and that made her heavyhearted.

Clearing her throat, she figured she might as well attempt some civility, since he didn't appear to be at fault, if she was properly reading the signs.

“Right. So...what now?"

He shrugged. "We go back to bed."

She tightened the sheets around her with a twist of her hand, unsure if that idea wasn't the worst one in the history of co-worker one-offs and deserved an argument or if she should just give into the temptation and make a whole new set of epic mistakes today with Erik—this time, memorable ones. Decisions, decisions...

"And why would we do that?" she asked, trying to buy herself some time to come up with a third alternative.

Erik frowned at that. "To sleep. Maybe to fuck again later, once we're both more rested... Why are you so skittish all of the sudden?”

Because you're gloriously naked and suck-able, she thought, and I really want to run my mouth all over you this instant.

"Because I'm understandably nervous right now," she said instead, feeling her palms grow slick with a feverish need to touch him.

As if he'd discarded her words in favour of listening in on her more honest thoughts and impulses instead, he rewarded her with a slow, wicked smile. "Is that so?" he asked, his voice thick with lusty insinuation.

He shifted then, and it took all of Emoni’s willpower to keep her eyes from drifting downwards to seek out the slight movement between his legs again. No way was she getting caught in that mesmerizing action twice.

“Yes, I just said," she reiterated, fanning herself with a hand and wondering if it were possible to spontaneously combust.

Noting her distress, Erik’s teasing waned. "Why?

A third alternative suddenly presented itself: rationally discussing the matter to death. That's what Emoni did best, after all. "Because regardless of the fact that we've each experienced a disturbing loss of memories of the last twelve or so hours, we're both cognizant that some level of physical intimacy passed between us last night," she pointed out, switching into 'professional mode'. "Our relationship, therefore, has evolved and requires us to come to some form of an agreement and an arrangement as to its future."

"Agreement? Arrangement?" He almost sounded offended, “You're starting to sound like a wife looking for a pre-nup, Moni." He jerked his chin towards her bellybutton, and the piercing that lay just beneath the sheets that covered it. "Was that diamond chandelier in your navel not enough for you? Or do you need a bigger declaration of my intentions? I suppose I can get you a ring for your finger to match, if you want.”

She tsked at him for joking at a time like this. "I'm talking about our working relationship, you asshole! What we did here last night...this is going to alter that dynamic, like it or not."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "Why does it have to, though?”

Unbelievable! Could he not see that everything had changed?

Pushing off from the wall, he approached her, "It was about time it did, too! All this time trying to get your attention the old-fashioned way was getting me nowhere with you. Derek and Natalie were right—you needed me to act, not attempt to manipulate you into making the first move,” Reaching out, he tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "I needed to change, my Emoni, or we were never getting here."

She rubbed at her achy temple. "Do you realise you always refer to me so possessively? Why do you do that? We're not even officially dating, but you talk about me as if I'm your significant other.” She argued.

The idea irritated her, because in truth, she'd wanted him to think of her in such a manner—had for a long time now—but Erik had always been impossible to pin down. Like a male butterfly, he'd always liked his freedom...and his women. Not that she'd been totally celibate over the years, but she couldn't boast near the number of partners he'd put to bed. And all along, even when he was with those other women, he'd shamelessly flirted with her, tossing out provocative innuendo or joking propositions that always ended in her scolding or itching to slap him, and invariably nursing a sore heart. It bothered her now that he would continue to play this game with her, especially as they'd obviously crossed a line last night.

"Where's my damn phone?" she asked, too tired to attempt looking for it.

Erik tore his eyes away from her and he scanned the room until he found her hand bag tossed on the floor beneath a lounge chair in his room. He took long strides to grab her bag and then he crossed over to her. He handed it to her and watched her open it, a relieved sigh escaping her mouth as she pulled it out. She checked the time and it was very late in the afternoon. No one had called her or texted. She went to her photos and there were over fifty pictures she’d taken.

She frowned at that. This could help.

"You're welcome," he said, looking at her.

"Oh, uh, thanks," she stammered after the fact, staring at her photo gallery, “But, um...I have a bunch of photos of us…do you?" She asked, "Is that karaoke?! Wait—a tattoo parlor?!!! Little White Chapel?!!! What the fuck?!"

Erik was silent for a long while in the face of that revelation, so she glanced up at him to find out why.

He was staring...no, glaring at her chest. The sheet had fallen and her titties were exposed. Deep brown areolas and thick, pointed nipples against tawny skin.

"Take that sheet off, Emoni," he demanded with a primal look in his eye, "Do it right now."

#nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger imagine #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #erik killmonger

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frownyalfred · 5 months

Note

Yes but like Thomas and Martha are used to having a child! There would be so much friction in that adjustment, and would Bruce even allow anyone to care for him like that? How paranoid would be be about their safety? I think it would be so messy

Exactly! I think sometimes people underestimate how bizarre it would be to come home to your eight year old son and realize he’s in his forties and has a whole life without you — a complex life. Bruce was an intelligent child of course, but the man he grows to be is so much beyond that. It would be an insane adjustment.

They only ever knew how to parent a child. They didn’t grow up with Bruce, and they don’t know the things that have shaped him into what he is now. Their playbook for him is beyond out of date.

That causes so much friction! In some ways, it’s like meeting a stranger. Or meeting the outlines of a person you used to know. The power dynamic shift alone is a lot — he’s the owner of the Manor, of he company, and oversees the family. Their input isn’t weighted the same anymore. They’re guests in HIS home, in some ways, even though he and Alfred would never phrase it that way.

I think, after the initial reunion wears off, attempts to parent or interrogate Bruce about his decision would ultimately backfire. And the batkids would be resistant to newcomers in general, but especially if they see how awkwardly Bruce, Thomas and Martha are all trying to interact with each other. When they see Bruce trying to pull back into himself and be less Bruce-like for their benefit, because some things about him and his life horrify them, even after their years in Gotham.

#thoughts #bruce wayne #batman #dc #asks #anon #batfamily #Thomas wayne #martha wayne

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boxofbonesfic · 1 year

Note

omg i would love a dark!Peter or a Ransom prompt 👀 it can just be an idea, or a specific scene or scenario, whatever strikes your fancy 💖

Ok! Ransom x plus size reader: college au, fwb. Ransom doesn't want to be seen with her cause she's fat and she's cool with it cause she's literally just here for the d while she gets her degree right? Ransom's an ass but that dick is bomb and no feelings are involved so perfect. But then Ransom gets addicted to the p and wants her all to himself, still on the dl tho. His changing feelings don't come out till she meets someone and breaks it off with Ransom. Reader doesn't think anything of it but Ransom COMPLETELY loses his mind and starts stalking her, blowing up her phone, etc. Not caring if everyone knows now. Reader is CONFUSED and MIFFED!

Title: Breaking

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Plus Size!Reader

Word Count: 5,374

Summary: Ransom wasn’t eager to stake any sort of claim on you—until someone else does it first.

Warnings: College AU, Stalking, Kidnapping, Darkfic, Plus Size Reader, Manipulation, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, MINORS DNI!

A/N: thank you so much for this lovely prompt! i really hope you enjoy this little ficlet. ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics

Ransom had found it kind of funny at first, when you’d stopped responding to his rather crassly worded “U up?” texts. It wasn’t until the third text in half as many weeks had gone completely unanswered that he’d tried calling instead—and found you had blocked him completely.

What?

That wasn’t like you. Not like Ransom had taken time to really know you, but ghosting just didn’t seem like it belonged in your playbook.

“The number you have dialed cannot be reached at this time. Please contact your service provider if you believe you have reached this message in error.”

It had taken a little finesse, Ransom laying the charm rather thickly on your friend in his business management class, the one whose name he could never remember.

“She has a boyfriend,” she’d said, twisting a lock of her hair around her finger with a nervous giggle. “But I’m, um, single.”

Which brings him to now.

You weren’t the sort of girl he usually took out on dates, and, looking back on it, you’d picked it up rather quickly. Your requests to meet at parties or the bars his frat brothers regularly visited were answered with vague no’s. Or, more often than not, ignored outright until you stopped sending them. It wasn’t your fault—he had a reputation to think about. Though tonight, ironically, his reputation is the furthest thing from his mind.

What is on his mind, is you.

Ransom’s lip curls as he watches Isaac drape an arm across your shoulders, squeeing affectionately. He doesn’t know him well—they haven’t spoken much beyond the idle chit-chat around the keg. It turns his stomach, the thought that he’d finally realized just how much you meant to him, only to have this—this boy-scout steal you from right under his nose. Out from his fucking bed.

Ransom isn’t used to coming in second place. It’s never happened before, losing something he actually wants. Isaac seems happy to be next to you, not embarrassed or hiding behind baseball caps and wide sunglasses. Not like Ransom. He’s angry—at you, a little, but mostly at himself. It’s not hard to recall how you felt underneath him, all soft skin, soft curves, and fuck. He hates himself for not savoring that last time more, for not knowing it was going to be the last time.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Ransom Drysdale didn’t get dumped—he was the one who did the dumping. And, he, thinks with no small amount of derision as he watches you from across the bar, I didn’t get dumped. We were never together. You can’t break up if you’re not together. The thought rings hollow even in his own head as he nurses his fifth beer of the night. It feels stupid-no, superficial, now; the way he’d only drop by your dorm-room after midnight, showing up without calling or texting and knowing full well that you would let him in.

But not anymore.

You’re too far away for him to hear it, but when you laugh, you tilt your head back, attempting to cover your wide grin with one hand. Pretty, he thins to himself, taking another long swallow from the bottle. Fuck how had he not noticed how pretty you are when you laugh, before? Had he just never seen it? Now that it occurs to him, Ransom’s hard pressed to find a memory that isn’t just sweaty skin, and hungry words growled into the curls at the nape of your neck.

Fuck.

Those were his favorite nights, the ones he spent digging his fingers into the softness of your hips while he sank in to the hilt—Ransom shudders. Even through the condoms you insisted he wear, the memory of your slick, tight heat is enough to send a hot, jealous pulse through his veins.

“We’re not together,” you’d said, crossing your arms stoutly as you stared up at him. “Condom or nothing.”

Probably doesn’t make Isaac wear a fucking condom. He takes another bitter swallow. He doesn’t know what’s worse, the thought of you fucking that Leave it To Beaver reject, or you fucking him raw. Both make him see red.

“Right, Ransom?” Someone claps him on the shoulder, and Ransom nods wordlessly. He isn’t paying attention, not to them, not with you here. You lean over to say something to your friend, the same mousy one who’d volunteered herself in your place. Ransom scoffs into his beer.

“Three fucking weeks.” He mumbles, draining the bottle before placing it down almost too hard on the bar-top. “How’s it get serious in three fucking weeks?” He waves at the bartender, signaling for another.

“Ran, we’re heading out.” Theo jerks his head towards the door. “There’s a party at Jude’s place. Hella girls.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Drunk ones.”

Ransom shrugs bad-naturedly, grimacing. “I’m going to stay here,” he says evasively, casting another sour look at you as his lip curls. “I don’t feel like pulling your head out of the toilet tonight.”

“Whatever, man.” Theo rolls his eyes, squaring his shoulders. He follows Ransom’s eye across the bar, and smirks. “Just because you’re not getting your dick wet with your porky little sidepiece anymore doesn’t mean the rest of us have to stay here and mope with you all weekend.”

Maybe it’s the alcohol warming his gut, but Ransom’s up before he’s really got a chance to think about it, his hands on Theo’s shoulders as he shoves him backwards, hard. The other man stumbles backward, and Ransom squares his shoulders.

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that.”

“What, now you care, all of a sudden?” Theo scoffs. “Dude you wouldn’t even let her come in through the front door—”

Ransom doesn’t know when exactly he grabbed a handful of Theo’s thin hair, holding his head still while he drives a frenzied fist into his former friend’s face as everyone watches. He comes to as he rears his fist back again, the sound of his name distant in his ears, like it was spoken through glass.

“Ransom!” Your confused face in the crowd is all he can see—which is why Theo’s sucker punch catches him off guard. It makes his ears ring as stars explode in his right eye. The world tilts as Ransom stumbles, and the television static in his ears is replaced by yelling. The warm wet trickle from his nose is blood, staining the tips of his fingers red as he holds his face. Theo’s not doing much better, blood pouring from his nose, and an ugly, swollen bruise coming to bear on the right side of his face.

“Fuck you,” Theo mumbles, drawing the back of his sleeve across his bloody lip. “Fucking asshole.” He storms out, a few of their frat brothers trailing behind him as he goes.

“Are you fucking serious?” The bartender throws down the towel in his hands, before smacking them against the bar-top. “I’ve fucking told you guys about bringing that bullshit in here—”

“I was just leaving,” Ransom snaps, shoving his hands into his pockets. He hates that he can feel your eyes on him too; watchful, judging. Theo’s gone by the time Ransom makes his way outside. It’s almost winter break, and the icy night air feels good against the hot, painful throbbing in his cheek.

“Ransom.” He turns, scowling at you over his shoulder. “What the fuck was that?” He shrugs miserably.

“Nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing.”

“What do you fucking care?” The venom on his tongue flows easily, likely aided by the liquid courage currently sloshing around in his gut. “You blocked me. You have a boyfriend.” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting from this confrontation, but your distinct lack of a reaction feels like more of a slap in the face than anything else. You blink at him, one eyebrow quirked as if in question.

“Yeah, I did.” Why does it hurt? Ransom’s rejected hundreds of girls—some as he was fucking pulling out of them, so why does this feel like a fucking knife in his back? “I figured you wouldn’t care much, Ransom, considering.” He hates this, hates how he’s the angry one and you’re calm—the roles should be reversed. They would be, if not for that niggling, irritating feeling that you should be his, just his. He doesn’t want to admit that you’re right, that you’ve got him pegged dead to fucking rights.

“How would you know?”

“You don’t sneak girls you like in through the basement entrance.” You retort smoothly. You’ve had a lifetime of this, of learning to live in your body, of learning to weather other people’s reactions to it—it’s Ransom that’s unfamiliar with rejection, unsure of how to handle the fact that the “r-train” isn’t enough to keep you coming back for more despite his treatment.

“But I do. I do like you.” He says, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t do this. It doesn’t have to be a thing. We can just, we can go back to how it was before.” This time, you do react, your face screwing up as you regard him first with disbelief and then anger.

“Why would I give up being in a relationship with someone who actually likes me, who is willing to be seen with me in public places and with his friends— you know what? I don’t need this.” You mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “This is what I fucking get for trying to make sure you’re okay. Silly me. I thought we were mature, here.” You gesture between the two of you before another dry laugh bubbles out from between your lips.

“Have a good night, Ransom.”

No, no, don’t leave! The desperate thought makes his throat tight. You can’t leave me. He stumbles exaggeratedly as you watch, falling against the bus stop with a groan. The plan lays itself out before him neatly like lines on a map.

“God fucking dammit—Ransom!” You huff irritatedly. He leans against the pole, counting the seconds until you come over to check on him. You do, and he moans pitifully. “Can you walk?”

“No,” he hiccoughs, swaying cartoonishly as you try to help him stand. “Ju-hic-just go. I’ll be fine.” You blow an exasperated breath out as you straighten him up. She doesn’t talk to her parents. He licks his lips as you pull out your phone, holding it up to your ear as you wait for someone to answer on the other end. She told me that when we were smoking, that one time.

“I obviously can’t. How did you get here?” You say, holding your hand over the mouthpiece as you scowl up at him.

“Theo d-drove.” The house is only a ten minute drive from here. Fifteen, tops.

“Yeah, I’m just going to head back to campus. No, I’m gonna take an uber. Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow, Isaac.” The little smile that curls at the corners of your lips makes him sick. “Yeah, you too.” Ransom leans on you heavily, and you don’t seem to notice when he presses his face into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo with relish. Fucking Isaac.

“I’ll get the uber,” he says, slurring the words deliberately as he fumbles with his own phone. “M’sorry, Princess.” He taps the screen clumsily, selecting Home instead of Dorm, before hastily stowing it back in his pocket.

“Don’t call me that.” You snap sharply. You try—and fail—to stand Ransom on his own two feet. Instead he hangs over you, draped over your shoulders with his chin resting on the top of your head.

“Why?” The question comes out petulantly. “You used to like it.”

“Stop.”

The familiar feel of your body pressed against his is sweet in a way Ransom hadn’t anticipated. The attic’s secure. Quiet.

When the car pulls up, Ransom allows you to wrangle him into the back seat, where he sprawls across your lap when you sit down beside him. You don’t say anything to the driver beyond a mumbled hello, which suits him just fine. Ransom plays up the drunk act, asking the driver a nonsensical question that makes you whisper at him to be quite.

“Sorry. Just trying to get him home.” You reply, pushing uselessly at his head as he settles into your lap. Soft. He can’t help but run a reverent hand across your jean clad thigh. Love how soft she is.

You’re so distracted trying to keep him from getting comfortable that you don’t notice the cab is heading away from the dorm until the driver turns down the private road.

“Wait—wait, I think you made a wrong turn somewhere,” you say, leaning forward to talk to the driver. He shakes his head enthusiastically, and points at his phone’s GPS.

“No, I followed the directions,” he protests, and Ransom hides his snicker in a groan. “This is the address.”

You lean back with a dissatisfied sigh, and look down at Ransom.

“Let me see your phone.” He unlocks it and hands it over, his face a mask of innocence. You notice the mistake immediately, leaning forward again. “Could you turn around and take us back to Harvard campus, please—”

“This trip was already way out of my route,” the driver grouses, frowning at the two of you in the mirror. “And I don’t think he’ll make another trip. Looks like he’s about to puke any second.”

“He’s fine.”

Ransom retches, and watches as the cabby’s face twists angrily.

“He’s not! I’m sorry, I’m done for the night. Maybe someone else will be able to pick you up.”

The finality in his voice makes Ransom giddy, and he clutches his stomach, gagging. He’s never thrown up—he’s not a fucking freshman lightweight, he’s a fucking Sigma for chrissakes—but he’s willing to let the two of you believe he might. You bite your lip, teeth sinking into its pillow softness as you try to undo what Ransom’s done.

“M’sorry. Didn’ mean to put in the wrong hic place.”

You nod stiffly. “I know. I guess… Well, this place has plenty of couches, right?” There’s little humor in your joke, but Ransom makes sure to laugh a little anyway, nodding.

“My grandfather won’t mind if you sleep in one of the guest rooms. Promise, Princess.”

“Ransom, don’t—”

“We’re here.” The driver cuts in as the car pulls to a stop in front of the house. “Sounds like you guys have it all figured out.”

—

As expected, the only people home are his grandfather, along with a few odd members of the staff. They’re easy enough to convince, Fran and Marta ferrying him upstairs to his room while he mumbles incoherently. You help too, tugging the blanket up over him after pulling off his shoes with a grunt. It feels nice, having you care for him like this, your soft hands on his face.

It feels right.

“I’ll get the guest room set up for you upstairs,” Fran says on her way out. “I’ve got a t-shirt around here somewhere.” Ransom doesn’t catch your answer, but that doesn’t matter much, not when he knows where you’ll be. It’s strange, how he’s impatient now, here at the home stretch, but he is. The smell of you, the taste, the feel, it’s all he can think about now that he’s so close.

It won’t be easy keeping you, he knows that, but nothing good comes without a challenge, right? And with the right motivation, Ransom knows he can make you fall in line. The house quiets around him, and distantly, he hears the sound of first Fran’s car, and then Marta’s. He forces himself to wait a few minutes more, and when he emerges out into the still air of the hallway, he smiles.

The door to the guest room is ever so slightly ajar, and Ransom slides inside. You sit up sharply, and for a moment only sound between you is the quiet settling of the house.

“What are you doing?”

“I came to check on you.” He can’t see your face in the dark, but he can see the shape of you, silhouetted in the pale beam of light streaming in from the tiny window above the bed.

“I’m fine.” The words are stiff. “You should go to bed.”

He doesn’t. Instead, Ransom turns and closes the door securely behind him, slipping the key into his pocket. The sound is deafening in the quiet, and he knows you hear it too.

“Have you texted Isaac, yet?” He asks, cocking his head. The room is small, shaped oddly by the sloping roof, and Ransom himself takes up the bulk of it standing in front of the door. You seem to shrink a little in response, and your hesitation answers the question truthfully, before you’ve even spoken.

“Y-yes. You should go to—” The way your hand strays under the pillow to feel for your phone tells him the opposite. Ransom licks his lips.

“Have you fucked him yet, Princess?”

Your gasp is audible.

“Don’t—don’t call me that. Ransom go to bed. You’re drunk.”

“Have you fucked him?” He repeats it, dropping to his knees on the bed.

“Get out!” You make for the door too late, and Ransom grabs you, wrapping an arm securely around your waist as he breathes a relieved sigh into your bare shoulder. Your frustrated struggle turns panicked at the sound of metal clacking against metal. “No, Ransom no—” The handcuffs he produces from his pocket aren’t the padded ones he’s used with you before—these are the real deal, and he clamps them tightly around your left wrist, looping it around the bed-frame before capturing your right. You’re writhing and fighting, but it’s easy to ignore the pain as he locks his arms tight, waiting for you to tire yourself out.

You’re wearing just a t-shirt, and Ransom palms the heavy weight of your tits through the soft cotton with a soft groan.

“So you haven’t fucked him.”

You open your mouth to scream, and Ransom laughs.

“Nearest person is two floors down, Princess,” he breathes, a low, satisfied hum rumbling in his chest as he draws his fingers through your messy hair, before tangling his fingers in it to tug your head back. His teeth scrape at your throat. “You can scream if you want to,” he mumbles against your pulse. “You know I like it when you’re loud.”

“Ransom, stop. You’re—”

“Drunk?” He answers smartly, before shaking his head. He cups your face with one sure hand, stroking your lip with the pad of his thumb. “I know you feel bad, Princess. You let me fuck that juicy cunt so quick, you thought you needed to make him work for it.” This close he can see your face, can see the guilt you quickly try to bury because he’s right. The answer is there, written in the way you turn your head away from him, trying to hide your face in shadow. Ransom doesn’t let you, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers as he forces you to stay still, to look him in the eye.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You spit hoarsely, and Ransom laughs. “You’re fucking drunk and-and—get off me!” You shrill, bucking against him uselessly. If he’s drunk, that’s what he’s drunk on; the heady sensation of knowing the truth with absolute certainty.

“I know exactly what I’m talking about.” He sneers, pressing you down into the mattress. The smell of your skin is intoxicating, like orange blossoms and fucking sunshine. “Fuck, Princess, I missed this.” It’s almost reverent, the way he slides his hands down over your hips, slowly working a knee between your stubborn thighs. Your borrowed t-shirt rolls up as Ransom spreads your legs, grinning at the sight of white lace between them.

He draws a finger over the curve of your cunt before cupping it.

“Why’d you block me, Sweetheart?” He asks, tracing the shape of your puffy lips through the cotton.

“You didn’t want me!” You hiss through clenched teeth. Ransom clucks his tongue at you, shaking his head, before delivering a stinging slap to your cunt. You feel it through the cotton, of course, whining and writhing underneath him as you cry out. “You’re fucking crazy—” The palm of his hand cracks sharply against you again, and it cuts your complaint short as the words disappear in a pained gasp.

“Be honest with me, Princess.” He says, grinning as you try to wriggle away from him.

“You wouldn’t even be seen with me!” Your voice cracks. “It’s not fair, Ransom!”

“You want me to stake a claim, Sweetheart? I can do that,” Ransom breathes, pushing the shirt up over your breasts, groaning at the sight of your puffy nipples. He draws his thumb across one, watching, enraptured, as the flesh pebbles underneath his touch. He trails sloppy, heated kisses up the side of your throat, nipping at the skin until you whimper. He mouths at your skin, sucking at the purpling bruise until he pulls away, satisfied.

“We can think of a more permanent solution later.” He leans back with a satisfied sigh. It feels good to mark you, to watch the bruises spread like ink on your pretty skin.

“Please, Ransom, just go!” You sob, the chain rattling against the bed-frame as you try unsuccessfully to loose yourself from your restraints. “We-we’ll just pretend it never happened!” You nod at him, like you’re trying to encourage him to do the same, your wide eyes fever bright. “It’ll be just like before—”

“Why would I want that?” He asks, reaching down to tug your panties tight, pulling the fabric tautly through the lips of your pussy like dental floss. “I don’t think you’re really grasping the situation, Princess, so let me spell it out for you.” Ransom spreads your legs wider as you stare up at him with fearful eyes.

“I don’t want things how they were before.” He snarls. “Things are different now, Sweetheart. You made them different.” Ransom slips his fingers underneath the elastic of your panties, and begins tugging them own your thighs, ignoring your whimpered pleas to wait and stop. You kick at him, a frenzied wail working its way out of your throat. True to his word, he ignores it, sliding down your body until he’s faced with the slick patch between your thighs.

“Ransom—” His name is a hoarse wail as he attaches his lips to your cunt, his tongue seeking out your traitorously swelling clit. He grins against you, dragging his tongue noisily through your folds, moaning. This is perfection, he muses dimly, lapping at you as you whine. You can’t deny how good it feels, not when he can see the evidence glistening on your quaking thighs, taste it on his tongue. You’re gasping, those precious little choking noises filling his ears as you try to swallow down the sound of your pleasure.

“Can’t fucking get over how good you taste, Princess,” he mumbles, reveling in your yelp as he sucks harshly on your swollen bud, spreading you wide with his fingers. You shake, your body jackknifing as you murmur nonsensically. He’s always loved that flavor—like fresh peaches, why do you taste like fucking peaches—

“F-Fuck you!” He doesn’t let you cum, though, pulling away to flick softly at your clit with his thumb. He draws the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping away the evidence of your body’s betrayal with a sly smile. A hoarse little whimper escapes you, and Ransom clucks his tongue, before reaching down to palm himself through his sweats. His cock his hard, so hard it almost hurts, thick drops of precum gathering at the reddened tip. He reaches for his phone with the other hand, the shutter noise clicking as he snaps a few pictures of your tear-stained face.

“N-no, no—!” You voice your displeasure with a whine as Ransom pans the camera down your body, like he’s trying to map it out for posterity’s sake. “No pictures, please, please!” Your wild, watery eyes are frantic as you plead with him. “Please don’t, Ran, please don’t send those—” A hot pulse shoots through his body at your desperation, and his cock throbs.

“A minute ago you were just telling me to go fuck myself.” He quirks an eyebrow at you over the top of the phone. “So which is it?”

“Please don’t send those.” You swallow thickly, the sound audible. “Please.”

He has no intention of sending them anywhere—except maybe to Isaac with your face cropped out, of course. But he smiles lasciviously anyway, blue eyes narrowing. Ransom runs his tongue across his lips, still tasting you on them.

“Let’s make a little deal, then.” He tugs his sweats down, and the fat, veiny length of his cock springs out. Ransom hisses softly as he spreads a sticky drop of precum across his tip with his thumb. “You’re going to end it with Isaac.” You open your mouth to complain, but Ransom forges ahead, ignoring you. “We’ll be exclusive, you and me, Princess.” He forces your thighs open a little wider. “Just like you want.” Ransom’s practically giddy with the thrill of it as your full lips begin to tremble and fresh tears track down your cheeks.

“I—I don’t want you!” You gasp, your attempts to buck him off only succeeding in wedging him further between your frantically kicking legs. Ransom clucks his tongue at you.

“I don’t know about that, Princess,” he says, slapping a hand against your swollen cunt, cupping it roughly. You squeal as he draws a finger through your slick, still throbbing folds.

“Not sure if you’ve ever been wetter.” Ransom presses your thighs to your chest. He asks, licking his lips. “It’s all up to you, of course.” Ransom lies so easily it doesn’t even really occur to him that he’s doing it.

“You tell me to go, I’ll go. But I can’t say what’ll happen to that footage.” He shrugs. He’s got no intention of leaving this room, not really, but he doesn’t mind pretending. “But if you were my girl, I might be able to swing deleting it. After all, what would I need it for? Got the real thing all to myself.” He dips the tip of a thick finger into your entrance. “Get it, Princess? No more scholarship. No more shitty dorm-room. I’ll take care of you.”

You’re so easy to read like this, your guard down and your desperation front and center. He can see you weighing the options, trying to parse out the best win for yourself in this devil’s bargain. He can see you testing the weight of your future against the events of this evening, and coming up far short. Ransom’s not stupid—and neither are you. You know what happens to girls like you when these things make their way into campus chatrooms and local reddit pages.

“You’ll really delete them?” You ask meekly, your mouth trembling. “You won’t… you won’t show these to anyone?” Ransom grins wider, drawing an X across his heart with the tip of his index finger.

“Cross my heart.” Ransom steadies one hand against your hip, his fingers sinking into the soft curve of it as he aligns himself with your entrance. His eyes roll as the head of his cock meets your cunt with a lewd, wet squelch. He’s getting impatient—after all, it’s been more than two weeks since the last time he’s been inside you, and his cock twitches hard against you at the thought.

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry Princess, you’ll need to speak up.” Ransom leans down over you, his hard eyes locked on yours. “Again.”

“I said fine!” Your quiet voice is strained. “Fine. I’ll—I’ll break up with Isaac—” Ransom kisses you, swallowing the rest of your words eagerly. He gorges himself on your mouth, sucking your tongue fiercely before pulling away to worry at your lower lip with his teeth until it’s swollen and red.

“Oh Princess.” He breathes. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.” He watches with dark glee when your eyes go wide as he begins to press into you, the head of his cock forcing you open. “No condom this time, but that’s alright, isn’t it?”

“Ransom!”

“M’right here,” he breathes, his hips jerking as your slick, puffy cunt sucks at his tip. “Fuck.” Ransom watches your eyes roll as you sink your teeth into your lower lip. “I know you missed it too, Sweetheart,” Ransom grits the words out through his teeth as he sinks in, his toes curling as your wet heat envelops him inch by precious inch. “You can admit it.”

The warm euphoria that spreads down his spine as he bottoms out draws another curse from his lips. You feel like fucking slick velvet inside, your walls clamping down on the girth of his cock like a wet fist. It’s hypnotic, pulling out only to thrust home again, his ears barely registering the groan of the bed-frame beneath you. The space between his temples is buzzing—your compliance, the feel of you around him, the knowledge that he’d won—Ransom’s delirious with it.

What’s even better is he can see it, plain on your face how much you’re enjoying it—how much you hate yourself for it. It makes every mumbled curse, every moan he wrenches from your unwilling throat all the sweeter. Ransom clucks his tongue at you as he leans down to capture your lips again. They’re pillow soft and swollen from his teeth.

“It’s my fault.” Ransom drives his cock into you, groaning. “I was stupid, Princess, I know. But I know what I need, now,” he says, hooking an arm beneath your thigh, lifting it so he can sink in even deeper. “Just you.” The shameful little wail that escapes your throat as you clamp down around him is almost enough to make him cum with you, cursing and crying as you do. He hangs on by the last fraying thread of his self control.

“Shit, shit, shit—”

“See?” He laughs, rolling his hips into yours with heavy strokes. “You need me, too.”

God, he loves seeing you like this, loves being the one to break you apart—loves knowing he’ll be the only one. It’s that thought that does it, aided by the miserable way you mewl his name as you cum again. His hands are tight on your hips, sinking into the heavy curve of them as he growls your name roughly in your ear. For a moment he’s lost in it; his forehead resting against yours as you milk him.

He stays inside you for a few luxurious minutes, basking in the feel of your cunt before pulling out. Ransom slaps his still hard cock against your oversensitive clit and you whine, your hips jerking. He can’t help but admire the mess he’s made, dragging his tip through your slick, sticky folds.

You watch him with red-rimmed eyes, your brows furrowing as he rises from the bed, pulling his sweats back up over his hips. He doesn’t reach for the keys, but instead slides his hand underneath your pillow to remove your phone.

“Ransom let me out, now.” Your voice is high, panicked. “You promised—”

“To delete the pictures.” He finishes, nodding. As you sputter, he removes his own phone from his pocket, and faces the screen towards you as he selects the pictures and videos from the photo album, and there’s a swooshing sound from the phone’s speakers as they disappear. “And I’ve deleted them.” Frantically, you rattle the handcuff chains against the bed-frame, trying desperately to dislodge them as Ransom sighs.

“You’re just going to hurt yourself.” You keep trying anyway, ignoring him your terrified sobs grow louder.

“Let me go! You fucking promised, Ransom, don’t leave me here—”

He cocks his head at you.

“Why would I leave you?” He asks, slipping both your phones into his pocket as he stands, stretching. “Winter break’s just starting,” Ransom says with a smile. “And I can’t think of a better way to spend it.”

the end

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

#chris evans smut #chris evans fic #chris evans x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale smut #ransom x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom x y/n #dark!fic #dark AU #college AU

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bigskyandthecoldgun · 1 year

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“steve uses the harrington charm” this, “steve uses all his typical flirting playbook moves” that, give me a steve who assumes that since he’s crushing on eddie, who’s a guy, he has to use moves that girls usually use on guys in order to get eddie to recognize that he’s flirting.

give me steve thinking that since eddie isn’t a girl, all the usual flirting he does won’t work, so he assumes he should use the moves girls he’s dated have used on him instead. give me steve tilting his head and batting his eyelashes and asking a very perplexed eddie to explain something about cars or sports since “guys are just so smart about this stuff.” give me steve playing up being cold until eddie gives him his jacket, give me steve feeling up eddie’s biceps and going “wow, you must work out a lot. oh, you don’t? could’ve fooled me, your muscles are, like, so big.” give me eddie being so bewildered because steve keeps laughing at jokes that probably aren’t as funny as he’s making them out to be, or eddie being perplexed by steve twirling his hair or smiling coyly while trailing his fingers over the tattoo on eddie’s forearm.

just steve absolutely laying on the moves, but they’re not his usual moves. robin is incredibly amused and has resigned herself to eventually explaining that the gender of the person steve’s flirting with doesn’t necessarily have to change his approach (only once the comedy of the situation dies down, of course). eddie is utterly bewildered, because other than this, steve is acting totally normal.

#eddie being particularly baffled about the cars and sports comment #that’s the one tactic that backfires on steve #because eddie immediately turns around and goes “didn’t you play that????”#“steve “he’s a guy so i have to be the girl” harrington #robin “that’s not how being gay works” buckley #eddie “what the fuck is happening” munson #just absolute shenanigans because it’s the 80s and gender roles are so Heavily Ingrained into the politics of dating #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #robin buckley

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mechaknight-98 · 5 months

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Gathering CEDH edition Birds of Paradise

Author’s note: Optimization furthers as I try to sharpen the story.

stroll up to our rendezvous fashionably late, but the guys greet me with raised eyebrows and a mix of surprise and concern.

"Um, we've got a bit of a situation," Connor blurts out.

"Yeah, we need you to watch our backs," Dexter adds, his tone urgent.

"Alright, spill the beans before we dive into this," I reply, trying to keep my cool despite the unexpected turn of events.

Following the uproarious success of the "Fearless Kkura" episode, Connor and Dexter found themselves fielding calls from various companies eager to tap into their expertise with idols. Amidst the flood of emails, Connor's phone buzzes with a call from Jennifer Huh.

"Yo, Jenny, what's crackin'?" Connor answers, brimming with excitement.

"Hey, so don't freak out, but I sorta RSVPed you and me for a gala in Florida," Jennifer confesses.

"Why? You know I'm not a fan of those formal shindigs," Connor retorts.

"Well, Chaewon and Kkura had tight schedules, Kazuha's chilling in Japan, and Eunchae's practically a baby," Jennifer explains.

"Fair point... Before I reluctantly agree, what's this gala all about?" Connor inquires, wary of Jennifer's sudden enthusiasm for fancy affairs.

"Oh, it's a Tricell Charity Gala, honoring survivors of bio-terrorist attacks. My family made it out alive thanks to Tricell's aid during a crisis in New Jersey," Jennifer elaborates.

Connor sighs, attempting to mask his inner turmoil, but Jennifer, being Jennifer, picks up on his unease like a shark scenting blood in the water.

"Ah, that sigh. I know that sigh. That's the 'please don't make me do this' sigh," Jennifer remarks, her intuition sharp as ever.

"I'm not sure, Jen. Sounds like walking into a danger zone," Connor hesitates.

"What're you not telling me?" Jennifer presses, sensing there's more to the story.

"Oh, what the heck. Count me in," Connor concedes, against his better judgment.

Arriving a day ahead of schedule to meet Yunjin, Connor is taken aback by the absence of a welcoming committee as she approaches my rental. She envelops him in a warm hug.

"Hey, Connor! How's it hanging?" she chirps, eyeing my choice of wheels with a playful smirk. "Wow, you really diggin' that truck, huh?"

He offers a sheepish nod, managing a grin. "Doing alright, and yeah, I'm quite fond of it. Hungry?"

Yunjin nods eagerly, and the duo hops into the rental, heading for a quaint café nearby.

En route, Connor turns to Jennifer. "So, Jen, while we're here, I need to catch up with my sister and mom," Connor started, hinting at his plans.

"Oh, I'll tag along," Jennifer chimes in.

"That's not what I had in mind," Connor points out.

"Too bad, I'm crashing the party," Jennifer declares, flashing a mischievous grin. He groans in defeat as we pull up to a cozy Creole café just a stone's throw from the hotel and airport. Over a meal, Yunjin broaches the topic of His beef with Tricell.

He tenses up momentarily but then decides that honesty is the best policy. Taking a cue from Dexter's/My playbook, and he dives into oversharing mode. "Well, I lost both my folks to the T-virus outbreak back in '98, masterminded by Tricell's former bigwig, Albert Wesker. His son, Alexander, also cost me my adopted older brother. So, yeah, I've got a bone to pick with Umbrella, Tricell, and the Weskers. But hey, they're supposedly turning over a new leaf, right? If not, I'll happily take 'em down again."

"So, you and Dexter both have a score to settle with the Wesker clan?" Jennifer probes, surprising him with her insight.

"Wait, how'd you know that? Dex never mentioned anything about it," Connor replies, taken aback.

"Well, Kkura spilled the beans. Apparently, Eunbi spilled the tea after her second date with Dex," Jennifer reveals.

"Eunbi and Dex?" Connor exclaims, connecting the dots.

"Yeah, Kkura played matchmaker after your stint on 'Fearless Kkura' together," Jennifer confirms.

"That explains a lot," Connor muses, reflecting on Dexter's recent trips to Korea.

"Indeed. They make quite the adorable couple," Jennifer adds, steering the conversation back to romance. "Speaking of which, are you still chasing after Giselle... I mean Aeri?"

"Nah, she's not into guys like me," Connor confesses.

"Really now?"

"Okay, let me rephrase that: I don't think she's into me like that."

"Ah, gotcha. Maybe she can sense that you're taken?" Jennifer teases, her disappointment palpable.

"Cut it out, Jen," Connor chirps, rolling my eyes.

"Why? Don't you like me?" Jennifer pouts, her expression genuinely crestfallen.

"Yeah, but c'mon, you're the fabulous Ms. Starlet herself, Yunjin Jennifer Huh. I'm just plain ol' Connor Sun-Won Young," Connor quips.

"Wait, is 'Sun-Won' your middle name?" Jennifer probes further.

"Not the point, but no, it's actually Connor. Sun-Won's my middle name, but it's easier for most folks to say," Connor explains.

"Got it. From now on, you're Sunny," Jennifer declares, earning an exaggerated groan from me.

"Anyway, Dex had a run-in with a Wesker during his college days. There was an outbreak at his school, and let's just say it didn't end well," Jennifer divulges, catching Connor off guard.

"I wish he'd told me about that," Connor admits, feeling a pang of hurt.

Connor nods in acknowledgment. After they finish their meal, Connor escorts Yunjin to her hotel to help her with her luggage. As he bids farewell, confusion clouds her expression. "Hey, where are you off to?" she wonders aloud.

"To visit my mom, then back to my hotel room," Connor replies hesitantly.

"Uh, why?" Yunjin probes, cornering him.

"Your manager made it clear that while you're here, you're to be 'untouched,'" Connor responds.

Yunjin laughs, "Um, how about no?" she says, grabbing him by his necklace. Tilting her head as she inspects it, she remarks, "Oh, this is nice. It suits you. Is it new?"

"No, I just got it back," Connor answers.

"Well, it looks good on you. Silver suits you," Yunjin compliments as she pulls Connor onto the bed. As they both gaze up at the ceiling, an awkward silence descends.

"So, have you asked Aeri out yet?" Jen's voice breaks the silence.

Connor turns to her and responds, "She laughed and said she sees me as an older brother."

Jen stifles a chuckle before saying, "You, an older brother? Oh, I'm so sorry. Come here, hug Noona to make it all better." Connor accepts her hug but scowls at her use of "Noona."

"Noona? Where did that come from? I'm older than you," Connor retorts.

She squints at him, "No, you're not?" Connor groans, pulling out his ID to prove his point. Yunjin smirks, "Huh, I guess you are my oppa then. Sorry, Oppa. That explains why Aeri was calling you that now. I thought she liked you."

"It's no big deal," Connor responds.

"I just thought because you're such a teddy bear that you were younger than Chae and I," Jen rebuts.

"Nope. I'm a year older than Kkura, to be exact, six months. But I digress," Connor says matter-of-factly.

Connor gets up and begins the process of heading to his mom's place. Jennifer is all smiles as she also gets up with him. They get into his car and drive to Miami, where his mother resides. Upon arriving, Connor begins to get cold feet, his hands shaking visibly. Jennifer notices this and smiles reassuringly at him as they both step out of the car. Connor approaches his mom's door and knocks, the house remaining quiet until it opens.

"Oh, Baruuk, how good to see you," Connor's sister, Valkyr, says to him. Connor offers a weak smile.

"Is Mom home?" he asks.

"Yeah, but are you sure you want to talk to her?" Valkyr inquires.

"Yeah, I have some stuff I'd like to tell her," Connor affirms.

"Okay, but wait, who's this pretty young lady behind you?" Valkyr asks.

"Oh, hi, I'm Jen, his girlfriend," Jennifer introduces herself.

Connor shoots Jen a look, to which she just smiles back at him. Valkyr observes their interaction and laughs, "Well, Ms. Jen, can I talk to you while my little Ruuk goes to our mom?" Valkyr asks, and Jen nods. This gives Connor the freedom to head back to his mom, who is in the backyard.

Mrs. LesProux had known since his arrival that Connor was going to show up. Call it mother's intuition. What she didn't know was the reason behind his visit.

"Hey, Mom," Connor says upon entering the backyard. His mother, a tall, statuesque woman, stands facing the morning light.

"Hello, Little cub. I'm surprised to see you," she says coldly.

"I didn't expect to be back, but here I am... You know, I've done some thinking, and I finally have an answer for you."

"Oh, really? And what is that? Do you still hate me for taking you from your birth parents? Do you still seek revenge?" Mrs. LesProux questions.

"No, I said those things in anger and resentment because I couldn't have a normal life. But that was never your fault," Connor apologizes.

Mrs. LesProux turns to her adopted son, seeing his remorse. She gets closer to him, "Wait, so you're not angry anymore?" she asks skeptically.

"No... I can't be, really. In this time away from this life, I realized I'm not built for war," Connor admits.

"Oh, then what are you built for?" Mrs. LesProux asks, intrigued.

"Diplomacy and art. But I appreciate what you did for me because, as you've said numerous times, fate had other plans," Connor answers.

Mrs. LesProux chuckles at her son's response. "That's a surprising answer."

"Why so?" Connor inquires.

"To forge peace, one must know war," Mrs. LesProux replies.

"Yes, and you've taught me war. The time I've spent with Dexter, or as you call him, the fool, has brought me peace, and I needed that," Connor adds.

"Well, then I guess I may have been harsh in my judgment of him. Especially after learning about him," Mrs. LesProux asserts.

Connor looks at his mom, confused. "What do you mean?" he asks.

"He was in love with that Wesker girl a few years back, and according to my sources, she betrayed him when he tried to purge all records of that event," Mrs. LesProux explains.

"That explains why he never talks about it," Connor realizes.

"I assume it's a sore spot. Speaking of pretty, who's that girl talking to Valkyr?" Mrs. LesProux asks, redirecting the conversation.

"Oh, that's Jennifer. She's a friend," Connor reassures.

"Really? She doesn't look at you like you're just a friend," Mrs. LesProux observes.

"How do you figure that?" Connor asks.

"I've seen the look of love, Baruuk, and believe me, she has it," Mrs. LesProux states.

"Well, then I'll keep that in mind," Connor says, falling silent. Mrs. LesProux smiles at her son's bashfulness.

She goes to hug him, "Still my shy and humble little boy, I see. I should have known that bringing you into the fold was a mistake. But that being said, I think you've grown into a fine young man."

"Thanks, Voruna," Connor says to his mom.

"You're welcome, Baruuk," Mrs. LesProux replies. "So what will you do now?" she asks.

"I'm going to the Tricell Gala tomorrow with Jennifer as her plus one," Connor answers.

"Oh, well, then we shall see each other again then," Mrs. LesProux says.

"Okay," Connor says.

After that, Connor walks back with his mom to the living room, where Valkyr and Jennifer are engaged in conversation. Mrs. LesProux scrutinizes Jennifer for a moment before asking, "What are your intentions with my son?"

Yunjin blushes at the question, as does Connor before Valkyr gives them an out.

"Come on, Mom, can't you see they're blushing? Baruuk, Jen, leave before you get more embarrassed," Valkyr says, ushering the couple out. They then drive back to the hotel, and Jen starts to become sleepier, likely due to the effects of the flight. Once they're back in her hotel room, she cuddles with Connor.

"So, you've met my mom and sister. What did you think?" Connor asks.

"I'm still surprised. You're so manly and gentlemanly, but your mom and Valkyr are very cold," Jen replies plainly.

"Well, that's because of my older brother, Atlas. He taught me a lot of the manners stuff. You would've loved him. He was tall, kind, and..." Before Connor could finish his sentence, Jen asks what happened to Atlas. "He was the brother who died because of Alexander Wesker," Connor answers.

Jen nods, “Oh... learning new things about you every day.” She falls silent after that. Connor notices she hasn’t broken the hug after 30 minutes, and then he hears her breathing become rhythmic as she falls asleep. Eventually, the calming sound of her breathing lulls Connor to sleep as well. He wakes up from his nap when Jen’s alarm goes off, blaring "No Return." As he attempts to get up, he is struck by his arm being very asleep. Realizing this, he tries to remedy it. As Jen wakes up to his movements, she laughs excitedly, watching as Connor tries to wake his sleeping arm up

"So, where to next?" Connor says, attempting to push his emotions aside. Seeing an out, Yunjin replies, "Oh, we're meeting with Winter and Hosang before they just flew in, so we're all getting dinner together." Connor nods and follows her as she changes her jacket to something lighter, as the morning cool has burned off into a humid heat more common to Florida. He looks away, trying not to see her exposed.

Jen smiles at Connor and says, "You know you don't have to look away while I change."

"Um, yes I do," Connor rebukes.

"You're so cute when you're bashful," Jen teases, laughing while watching him still trying to get his arm awake again. After a few minutes, he succeeds, and he gets up, now having his arm almost back to normal. They get into their rental truck and drive to the airport again. Winter and Hosang are surprised when Connor picks them up.

"Oh hi, Yunjin… and Connor," Hosang says in surprise to see Connor and Yunjin together.

Connor waves as they put their bags in the truck bed. Winter and Hosang both begin to whisper in Korean. They’re quiet enough to not hear every word. Connor turns to them when he hears "American," and both he and Jen scowl suspiciously.

"What?" Winter says innocently.

"What was that about? 'They are so American?'" Jen says.

Hosang laughs and says, "Well, looks like we were caught. Winter and I were just talking about how you two look so American together. (He gestures to the truck) It's so funny how you are both so American and so not American." Connor watches as Jen rolls her eyes before she goes back to face him with a smile and drives the couple to their hotel.

While on the way in, Jen asks, “Hey, how did you guys get the okay from SM to date?”

Hosang answers, “Um, so we haven't, so if you could keep it on the down-low, that would be great.” Jen’s eyes go wide, and she nods in understanding. She smiles and says, “Your secret is safe with us. Isn’t it, Connor?”

Teasingly, Connor says, “Absolutely not. I need compensation for Giselle putting me in the brother zone, and a dating scandal for her group sounds like a fat payday. So two birds, one stone.” They look at Connor for a moment, thinking he is serious, but when they see his face change, they all break into a smile.

“You had us worried for a minute,” Winter says, and Connor laughs.

While helping them, Hosang comes to Connor and asks, “I know you were joking about the Aeri thing, but are you sure you’re okay?” Connor shrugs.

“I can’t do anything about it, so why would I care? As my friend Dexter says, 'Time keeps moving forward, so will I.' I’ll just work my hardest and then move on,” Connor says to Hosang, who nods.

“Ah, the good old keep moving forward,” Hosang says, and Connor nods. After he helps the couple into their room, Connor, Jen, Winter, and Hosang all get back into the car and drive to the restaurant where they will be eating for the night. They arrive at the small Cuban spot that Jen found (spotted earlier on the way in) and all file in. Jen smiles as Connor and her walk in, and she grabs his arm, linking with hers and smiling brighter. Connor smiles back, her dark hair bouncing as she walks with him. A wave of calm washes over Connor as he sits with her. She feels... pleasant around her in a way Connor is unfamiliar with and not used to.

After the waiter takes the drink and appetizer orders, Hosang asks Connor the fated question.

“So how did you meet Aeri Uchinaga, Mr. Connor?”

Connor looks around and then to Winter, who smirks. “Tell him then, Magic Man," she teases.

“Well, long story short. I play MTG to deal with some PTSD issues I had in the past. So naturally, I played MTGA, where I met Scorpion’s love-00. I beat this person. This person sends me a Discord message, and we begin an online friendship. That friendship eventually led to me meeting this person, who turned out to be the illustrious Giselle of Aespa.” Jen smiles as Connor tells his story.

When Connor got to the part about PTSD, Winter looked at Connor in surprise. After he finishes his tale, she pries a little into that. “You mentioned PTSD… um, Connor, are you okay?” You shrug.

“Yeah, just some bad stuff happened while before I got into college. MTG helped me get out of that bad place, but it also made it worse because I became obsessed. Overall, I think I am good though now,” Winter squints as she stares at Connor. He could see the worry on her face. He smiles to allay her worry. After all, they didn’t need to be bothered with his tales of misery. After Connor finishes talking, his food arrives, and while he eats, he swears he sees Voruna. When his friends catch him spacing out looking for her, they quickly bring him back. Connor smiles at them as they all get back to eating and enjoying their company.

When Connor goes to pay, the waiter says, “Oh, your meal was already paid for by Karena LesProux. She left the message, 'For my lost cub who is found again.'” Everyone looks weirdly at the waiter, except Connor, who knows who that is and what that means. He smirks casually, then eases into the seat and says to everyone, “Wow, that is so weird but cool. A free meal.” They all look at Connor weirdly at first, but then it’s put past them. After that, Connor takes Winter and Hosang back to their hotel and says their goodbyes until tomorrow.

Winter stops for a moment before going in to talk to Connor. She gets him out of earshot of the others and says, “I heard about your situation with Giselle, don't be too mad at her. She’s just got a lot going on.” Connor smirks, then says (while looking at Yunjin), "I think I will be fine," and waves as they leave.

He goes to drop Jen off, and as he attempts to leave, she says, “Can you stay with me tonight?”

Connor sees the anxiety in her eyes, and all he can say is, “Sure,” so he follows her. The couple (I know they aren't technically a couple yet, but at this point like come on) fall asleep. They take turns using the shower and getting ready for the night. After finishing, the two cuddle in the bed. It’s awkward at first until she says, “Hey, it’s okay. I don’t bite.” Her eyes are bright and happy. Her smile is innocent and inviting.

Connor says to her, “This isn’t very hot girl of you.”

She laughs and responds, “Maybe I want to be a soft girl for the night.” Connor laughs content and Jen hugs him tight. The couple falls asleep roughly around the same time. At 4 am though, Connor wakes up. He gets up to leave, but Jen, still partially asleep, says, “Don’t go. Don’t leave me alone.” Connor looks at her confused. She looks so lonely, so afraid. It was a far cry from the confident star who lives for the stage.

“What’s wrong, Jen?” Connor asks. When he doesn't hear from her, he looks at her worried but clearly sees she is still half asleep.

“I feel so isolated, and you make me feel connected. Idol life it’s great, but there’s too much pressure, too rigid. I want someone who’s fluid and goes with the flow. I live in fear every day that because of who I am and my background everything is going to collapse on me. I want someone by my side who is strong and confident yet gentle and reassuring. So please stay with me,” Jen says. Also, remember that Jen said all of this while still half asleep and probably wouldn’t remember it. Connor breathes in and out before going back to lie next to her. He hugs her tight, intent on helping her feel better. As he drifts off, his mind settles in a familiar place. Stars litter the endless void.

When Connor opens his eyes, he is greeted by Jen’s smiling face. She is elated that he stayed with her. The next thing he hears is his phone ringing. It’s Dexter.

As Connor recounted I nodded and then Dexter started speaking to me as well. following the pause at Dexter's call Dexter starts speaking.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #male reader #mtg commander #edh #le sserafim yunjin #resident evil 6 #resident evil #re fanfic

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