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f14fun · 6 months ago

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dc it-girl (mv1) - chapter 1

synopsis: in which case y/n, an it-girl that hails from the united state's capital, washington dc, meets max verstappen in an unexpected occurence at the redbull showrun in her home city. both not knowing each other, immediately find themselves in a once-in-a-lifetime love story.

general info: !fem!poc!black-reader x mv1 faceclaim: asia monet ray + other girls from pinterest/insta!

smau + prose (3.3K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

things to note: yes, in this story i am changing the characters for a bit, i know that david coulthard was driving, but in this case we can pretend that that was max. also, he will be in dc for a publicity event for a week. please let me know if there is anything else you need me to clarify. happy reading! 💙📖💭

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yourusername

liked by florence.jwilliams, user1 and 119,012 others

yourusername: bad gyals thrive in dc

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florence.jwilliams: babes we looked so hot today xx

yourusername: i knowww, but i was dying like a bitch in the heat 🙄🙄

florence.jwilliams: might visit somewhere cold this summer j to get away from the sun tbh 😭

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Florence was always looking for shit.

She was always looking for shit for us to do, places to go, food to eat, but sometimes, it was a lot.

Like today. Although it was only the nineteenth of April, the sun was blaring down on the little city of D.C. (namely, the District of Columbia, for all of you non-natives) like an absolute bitch. And I, immune to alcohol poisoning, foot fungus, and slightly-immune to bad breath, was not absolutely not immune to the wrathful rays of the sun.

Zilch. Nada.

So when I originally left the house in a cardigan, I immediately went back in to change into a tank top and jorts. It was hot. I was hot. And Florence wanted to spend the whole day walking around the city doing God knows what.

That's how we ended up stumbling across a parade.

Every know and then when I would visit D.C., I would sometimes almost accidentally show up right in time for an event. Sometimes I happened to love the event, other times, I sometimes left, queasy, dizzy, and claustrophobic.

I wasn't sure what to make out of today's event.

At first, when looking from an outsider's perspective, it seemed as if I had walked into one large, large, cult meeting. Oh no.

Every one was adorned in shapes of navy, cheering, screaming, and worse of them all, holding a goddamn can of RedBull's Energy drink.

The air was thick with the scent of anticipation and caffeine, a cocktail potent enough to keep even the most exhausted of souls awake for days.

Banners fluttered wildly in the hands of fervent fans, each emblazoned with logos and slogans that screamed allegiance.

Vendors weaved through the throng, hawking more cans of the ubiquitous energy drink, their cries barely audible over the din.

Occasionally, a shower of confetti would rain down, sticking to the sweat-drenched skin of the masses, creating a mosaic of glittering chaos. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the raw energy of thousands of voices united in a singular, frenzied purpose.

Ew.

RedBull being one of my least favorite sodas (can you even call something you vehemently dislike a favorite at this point?) already made me additionally pissy.

So when Florence and I had just arrived at D.C. and walked towards Pennsylvania Avenue, it was too late for us to realize that the event was actually ending, and the crowd was dispersing.

Even as a girl who hails from the city, I do get quite nervous and claustrophobic around too many people. So to my utter horror, people from the flood of the RedBull cult were heading straight towards us, scattering like a pack of fleas.

Too late.

I had lost my tight grip (I swear I was holding on to her hand super duper tightly!) on Florence's hand, and we ended up getting separated from each other. Calling her name would be no use in this throng of people.

My heart pounded in my chest as I desperately scanned the sea of navy shapes, each person indistinguishable from the next in the dimming light.

Panic set in, and I could feel the beginnings of a cold sweat on the back of my neck. I tried to push my way through the crowd, but it felt like swimming against a relentless tide. People brushed past me, some nearly knocking me over in their haste to leave.

The overwhelming noise of their chatter, laughter, and the occasional burp of a RedBull can opening filled the air, making it impossible to concentrate.

It was gross. It was disgusting. I was disgusted.

I spun around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Florence’s distinctive red scarf, but all I saw were faceless masses. My phone! I fumbled in my pocket, my fingers trembling as I tried to pull it out without dropping it. Just as I managed to get a hold of it, someone bumped into me, and the phone slipped from my grasp, landing with a sickening thud on the pavement.

“Dammit!” I muttered under my breath, crouching down to retrieve it, praying it wasn’t shattered. As I picked it up, I glanced around again, my heart sinking. Florence was nowhere to be seen.

In this crowd of sickeningly electric people over an energy drink, I was dead. Six feet under. Tired, and I had just gotten to D.C..

I looked around in despair, realizing that I must have walked a few blocks without even noticing, my mind too frazzled by the chaos and my separation from Florence.

My phone was clutched tightly in my hand, my lifeline in this moment of utter confusion. I tried to call Florence, but there was no signal. "Damn this shitty data!" I cursed under my breath, feeling my frustration bubble over. The crowd seemed to close in around me, their excited chatter and laughter a stark contrast to my growing panic.

My fingers tapped frantically at the screen, hoping that maybe, just maybe, a bar of signal would appear and rescue me from this nightmare. I could feel the beginnings of a headache forming, the kind that starts as a dull throb and quickly escalates into a pounding, relentless pain.

The one goddamn day I had left the house without my morning coffee and this shit decided to happen to me...

In a desperate attempt, I switched my phone to airplane mode and back again, praying for a miracle. But nothing changed. The crowd jostled me from all sides, pushing and pulling like a relentless tide, each shove adding to my rising sense of helplessness.

I glanced around, trying to find a familiar landmark or a quieter spot to regroup, but all I saw were waves of navy shapes and faces blurred by motion and anxiety.

"Florence!" I shouted again, my voice barely carrying above the din. The energy drink-fueled chaos was suffocating, a cacophony of noise and movement that seemed designed to disorient and overwhelm. I caught sight of a bench a few feet away and made a beeline for it, hoping to gain some semblance of stability.

I was in a twisted, sick, alternative fever dream where my nightmare fuel was in fact RedBull™, ha ha ha.

Whatever, I could probably find her somewhere around the city, I mean, it wasn't that big...right?

So there I was, in D.C., by myself. Not like I wanted to go in the first place that morning, but whatever.

Lost in thought, I was just wandering around, not really concentrating on anything in particular. Horrible city instincts, might I add. Because of my absentmindedness, I clearly did not notice when I walked into someone.

More like someone's RedBull drink walked into me.

I could not escape the nightmare fuel fever dream RedBull™ agenda, couldn't I.

Now I was extremely pissed off. The icy liquid soaked through my shirt, a cold shock that made me gasp and snap back to reality.

Looking up, I was two milliseconds away from berating whoever spilled this devil-drink all over me. But my harsh words died on the tip of my tongue the very instant that I looked up.

I was looking at a man. But not just any regular man. An extremely handsome man.

His startling icy turquoise eyes connected with mine. His stubble, a little overgrown, looked so hot. His mousy, brown touseled hair gave him a nonchalant yet strangely put-together look, and I was all in for it. And I, a girl who never stops talking, I was rendered speechless.

From the first glance, everything about him seemed perfect.

Except for the fact that he just spilled RedBull all over my white tank top and he was even wearing RedBull merch, from head to toe. Like who does that? What fashion choices...

He gave me a sheepish smile, clearly embarrassed. "I'm so sorry," he said, his voice smooth and sincere. "I didn't see you there." His soft, European (?) accent lulled me to silence in an instance.

I wanted to be mad, I really did, but his charm was disarming. "It's fine," I managed to say, trying to suppress the butterflies in my stomach. "Accidents happen."

"Let me help you," he offered, reaching into his pockets and pulling out a pack of Kleenex tissues. He reached out towards me, seemingly wanting to put his hands on my shirt.

"Oh, oh, that's okay," I said, freaking out internally. If this handsome European man touched me that close to my boobs I might just have to propose to him that very instant.

"No, no, no, I insist," he said, his accent getting thicker, clearly not understanding my drift. He was too handsome to be doing this shit, I swear.

He came closer towards me, and I instinctively backed up a bit more. Not catching my drift (once again), he took a larger stride towards me. I, unprepared for this wild encounter, didn't step backwards in time, so the sexy European man in all of his glory, collided into me.

And down we went.

It must've been a funny sight to see from the average passerby. Them just minding their business. Maybe walking their dog. Or perhaps getting a morning lattee.

Bam.

Lying in the middle of the street are two people. Just there.

I would've hit my head on the pavement and probably cracked my scull wide open if not for the RedBull man. He had cradled one arm around my head, the other wrapped tightly around my waist. I think (?) he was helping me to try to stop the fall.

To no avail, we still fell.

What he disregarded, though, was when he tried to stop the fall, was the reason why we were falling in the first place. As grabbed my head as we fell, he also let go of the RedBull can. So now, free in the wind and open towards the chaos of the District of Columbia, the RedBull can fell.

Fell where? You may ask. It fell over us. It fell everywhere. The sticky, icky drink splattered across both of our faces, its cold, sugary droplets clinging to our skin like a caffeinated rain shower. The can, released from his grasp, seemed to defy gravity for a split second, twisting in the air before gravity's inevitable pull sent it crashing down.

The can hit the ground with a soft thud, its contents erupting in a fizzy explosion of energy. The liquid sprayed outward in all directions, catching us both off guard.

Streams of RedBull arced through the air, some landing on nearby pedestrians who stared in disbelief, while others formed tiny puddles on the sidewalk, reflecting the cloudy yet impeccably humid D.C. sky above.

For a moment, him and I laid on top of each other (weird and freaky, I know), frozen in a tableau of absurdity, our faces now adorned with streaks of sticky red liquid.

A passerby, caught in the crossfire, chuckled as they hurried past, muttering something about needing to wash their dog now. It was a scene straight out of a slapstick comedy, and despite my initial shock and embarrassment, I couldn't help but laugh along with him.

And you may think, oh wow, that is horrible. That must hurt. Your joints, your back, your legs. And to that I say, yes, yes, and very much absolutely yes.

The very sexy (slightly less sexy, now that we were mangled on the disgusting sidewalk) European man was laying on me with all his bodyweight, and it very much hurt.

To make matters worse, our faces collided. You ask, where did your faces specifically collide?

Our lips. Our lips collided, and they touched.

And me like the dumbass I am, when I see a face coming towards mine unexpectedly, eyes closed, and especially a face who's male.... I puckered up.

Yes, I was stupid.

Now, I was on the floor, sticky, and kissing a stranger.

Out of context, that sounds like a funny and strange sentence. But this whole scenario in the first place was out of context, so bear with me. I mean, how often do you end up on the ground, covered in energy drink, and accidentally kissing a stranger in the middle of the day?

It was like something out of a quirky rom-com (okay, more like the evil-twisted beginning to one of those abduction horror stories grown-ups tell you when you are a kid), except I never imagined I'd be the protagonist.

But in that split second, with the taste of RedBull lingering on our lips and the chaos of the city swirling around us, there was an inexplicable spark. It wasn't just the caffeine rush; it was a moment of shared laughter and unexpected connection amidst the sticky mess.

In this moment, I was either going to die because he was about to kidnap me, or sheerly die out of embarrassment. Or, I would will myself to die, this was not happening to me.

He pulled back, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" he asked, his accent making his words sound even more sincere.

I tried to laugh it off, but the awkwardness of the situation was hard to shake. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… sticky." I wiped at my face, feeling the sugary residue cling to my skin.

He helped me to my feet, brushing off his clothes with an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to… I mean, that was not… you know," he stammered, clearly flustered.

"It's okay," I reassured him, despite feeling mortified myself. "Really, it's fine. Just a little... unexpected."

He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. He winced, as he realized that his fingers as well as his hair smelled like RedBull. "Well, this is definitely not how I imagined meeting someone today."

"Me neither," I admitted, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and amusement. "But hey, at least it's a memorable encounter."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I guess this is one way to make an impression. I'm Max, by the way. Professional RedBull spiller and accidental kisser."

I laughed, the tension easing. "Nice to meet you, Max. I'm Y/N. Apparently, I'm your victim for today."

"Victim? More like an unsuspecting hero," he replied with a playful grin. "Seriously, though, I'm really sorry about all this. Can I at least buy you a coffee to make up for it?"

"Well, considering you saved me from cracking my skull open, I think I can let you off the hook," I said, trying to sound casual while still feeling a bit flustered. "And coffee sounds good."

"Great! I know a place just around the corner. And I promise, no more RedBull," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. (Yeah, the biggest lie I was ever told. Do not trust sexy men, they are all liars)

As we walked towards the café, the awkwardness of our first meeting began to fade into a shared sense of humor about the absurdity of the situation. Max continued to apologize, making light-hearted comments about his job with RedBull and his less-than-perfect coordination skills.

"You know," Max started with a grin, "I guess I should add 'professional accidental kisser' to my resume now."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Not sure how many job openings there are for that, but you'd definitely stand out."

"Well, it's all about making a memorable first impression, right?" Max replied, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Definitely memorable," I agreed, taking a playful jab. "Though next time, maybe aim for something less sticky?"

Max feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "But where's the fun in that? Besides, it's not every day you get to meet someone while wearing your finest RedBull cologne."

"I have to admit," I said with a smirk, "you wear it well."

Max chuckled, nudging me playfully. "Hey, it's an acquired scent. You'll get used to it."

"And here I thought coffee was supposed to be the only thing brewing today," I teased, glancing at him from the corner of my eye.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Who says we can't have a double shot of excitement?"

I couldn't help but chuckle at his playful flirtation, feeling myself relax even more in his company. "Well, as long as it doesn't involve any more airborne beverages, I'm all in."

Max raised an eyebrow, pretending to look offended. "Are you saying you didn't enjoy our little RedBull shower?"

"Let's just say I prefer my caffeine in a cup," I replied with a grin, sipping my coffee and meeting his gaze over the rim. "So, Max, what other talents do you have besides professional beverage mishaps?"

He leaned back, pretending to ponder the question seriously. "Well, I can juggle three balls at once. And I'm pretty good at making people laugh, unintentionally, most of the time."

"I can see that," I said, laughing softly. "You've definitely brightened up my day, unintentionally." Continuing, I said, "I was lost in that throng, no, no, no, cult of people wearing RedBull on Penn Ave. It was absolutely horrible, never again."

He guffawed loudly, so loudly, at my slightly funny joke, I for a second, thought that there was an underlying joke in my statement that I had not caught (spoiler alert, there was).

Max guffawed loudly, his laughter infectious. "Oh, I'm sorry," he managed between chuckles, "but you have to admit, it makes for a great story."

"You find this funny?" I asked, feigning offense while trying not to laugh myself. "I was traumatized by energy drink enthusiasts!"

"Hey, at least you made it out alive," Max quipped, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. "And here you are, sharing your harrowing tale with a fellow survivor."

"Survivor?" I raised an eyebrow, pretending to assess him critically. "Or secret admirer of RedBull?"

Max shrugged, his smile mischievous. "Maybe a bit of both. It's an acquired taste, you know."

"You are just saying that as a cult member, I can't really trust what you say still. I am so sorry, but you could not pay me to drink that can of dog piss," I jokingly rolled my eyes.

Max burst into laughter, his amusement filling the air around us. "Dog piss? That's a new one! Trust me, I'm not here to convert you," he said, grinning widely. "But if you ever change your mind, I'll be here with a fresh can and an open mind."

"Hmmm... okay," I reluctantly said. (Yeah, fat chance you would get me to drink RedBull willingly)

"That only made him laugh louder. "So I've heard," Max replied with a grin, clearly taking my comment in good humor.

I chuckled, feeling a sense of relief that he wasn't offended by my playful jab. "I mean, it takes confidence to rock the RedBull look from head to toe," I added, trying to soften my teasing with a smile.

"Exactly!" Max exclaimed, his laughter subsiding into a grin. "You've got to commit to the brand, right?"

"Absolutely," I agreed, nodding. "I have to hand it to you, though. Not many people can pull off such a bold fashion statement."

"Well, thank you," Max said, his tone light and playful. "I guess you could say I'm all about making a statement."

"I can see that," I replied, unable to resist teasing him a bit more. "I suppose next time we meet, I should wear something equally attention-grabbing to match your style."

Max laughed, shaking his head. "Please do. It'll make for an even more interesting encounter."

Everytime he spoke, he made direct eye contact with me. It was so sexy and seductive, and I don't even think that Max knew what he was doing was hella attractive.

I, not immune to anything today I guess, fell hard for a stranger that I had just met.

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yourusername posted on her story

📍washington dc 🎵 see you again (ft. kali uchis) - tyler the creator

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florence.jwilliams: girl we got separated and first thing you do is be big backed??? be so fr... where are u

yourusername: on a date! 😁

florence.jwilliams: oh!-

florence.jwilliams: don't be selfish and bring me back a iced coffee w almond milk and a croissant pls.

yourusername: croissant 👌🏾, beverage 👎🏾, i've had enuf of beverages and spilling today. 😭

florence.jwilliams: oop, tea

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author's note: a little short but sweet! ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾 part two will be out sometime within the next two weeks, comment if you want to be added to the taglist! ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

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stylespresleyhearted · 8 months ago

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THIS JUST IN: CALLUM TURNER, NEW FATHER

pt. ✌🏻 ~ fc: beautiful rosie hunington-whitely ~

masterlist here ; part one here

enjoy ♥️

liked by user02, user14, and 71954 others

dailymail Callum Turner made a surprise appearance at last night’s award show with girlfriend Y/N and we were all shocked to see she is no longer pregnant. She’s even back in shape! Click the link in bio to find out everything we know about the birth of their child

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fan21 did ya’ll think she was gonna be pregnant forever ???

fan23 What a horrible thing to do. Talking about a woman’s body and her being in shape after she’s carried and birthed a child? Do better dailymail!

fan12 AHHH CONGRATS TO THEM! 😭🙌🏼♥️

fan33 luckiest child ever

liked by austinbutler and 93715 others

yourinstagram happy daddy day my love 🫶🏻 we love you a million

(also yes our baby was born. he’s perfect.)

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fan23 omfg ima cry i know he’s the best fucking dad

austinbutler ❤️

yourinstagram we miss you uncle austin!

keoghan92 I remember when Cal used to carry me on his shoulders like that around set 🥺

anthonyboyle you’re ridiculous

yourinstagram LMAO happy fathers day! Come visit soon 😘

yourfriendsinstagram omg so you aren’t gonna be pregnant forever? what?! (😒)

liked by rafflaw, austinbutler, and 76199 others

callumturner I made an Instagram to publicly wish my beautiful partner and the best mum around (sorry Mum) a happy birthday. I love you darling and you two are the most precious things in my life 🥳

comments have been limited

florencepugh I too would make an entire Instagram just to love on @yourinstagram so I get it 😝

anthonyboyle OI IT’S Y/N DAY

camilamorrone happy burfday y/n!!! love you loads!!! 🥳❤️

austinbutler Funny thing, I took this photo. 🌚

keoghan92 LMAO calling him out! tbh it looked like a photo taken by you 😉

callumturner Fuck off the both of you 😂

rafflaw Austin won’t reply to a text but he’ll comment on an Instagram photo. Got it.

yourinstagram austin i told you not to send him the photo 😩 i look horrible! delete!

callumturner Impossible. Never.

liked by zendaya, rafflaw, and 41896 others

yourinstagram Thank you for all the wonderful birthday wishes & thank you to all my friends and family who joined our little family on my birthday excursion 😘 life has never been better since our little man joined us ♥️

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keoghan92 not fair that austin hogged him the entire week! me and brando had plans for the little guy!

oliviadejonge love you 🥀

fan23 This little family owns my heart. ❤️

liked by user12, yourinstagram, and 577 others

callumnews Callum’s happy reaction when his son yelled out “daddy!” during the panel 😭

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fan23 all the guys talking about what a great dad he is made me tear up

fan42 “Uncle Austin is the favorite” confirmed by callum lmao barry was heated!!

fan12 He was eager to get on that stage haha! @yourinstagram looks like he’s gonna follow in his dad’s footsteps!

yourinstagram 😂😂 seriously he loves the attention and he’s such a daddy’s boy he kept trying to head on stage

liked by appletv, rafflaw, and 12945 others

yourinstagram #tbt dad life

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keoghan92 Oh yeah 100%

user13 this is the most of his face they’ve shown

user14 don’t be weird

callumsfamily I miss when the little man couldn’t walk y/n have another!

yourinstagram 😉

fan21 OMG

liked by fan13, zendaya, and 17322 others

yourinstagram MOM LYFE

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yourfriendsinstagram I miss kissing his chubby baby rolls (and tell Callum to stop taking photos of you in the shower)

fan12 LOL

fan23 It’s funny to picture Y/N trynna shower and Callum and their baby waiting patiently on the toilet 😂😂

yourinstagram they do NOT wait patiently 😂

liked by fan13, fan55, and 88154 others

callumnews Callum greeting his mother as she joined him, Y/N, and her grandson for a day at the park. She was bestowed an award at Parliament House last week for her contribution to gender and cultural equality and she dedicated it to her grandson. All photos of their child had his face blurred out of respect for the Turner family.

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fan23 He lives on Callum’s shoulders 😂

fan12 Y/N is living all my fanfiction dreams tbh

user23 I hope magazines and fans continue to blur out his face in photos until Callum and Y/N are ready.

fan53 Callum’s mom is so awesome wow

yourinstagram she’s the coolest & the most amazing nan! ♥️ the little guy calls her about 20 times a day because he loves her so much and we have to remind him she has work which he does not like to hear 😂

liked by austinbutler, yourinstagram, and 1533470 others

callumturner time flies when you’re having fun has never felt more existential than since we were blessed with this little human.

We are aware that because of my line of work people will be curious and photos will be taken. As his parents, me and Y/N want to protect him and get ahead of it. To my fans and to the media, if you respect me or basic human decency, we ask that you please only allow the photos we post of our son to grace the internet. Thank you.

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fan23 Guys if we love and respect Callum like we say we do let’s promise to help protect their son’s privacy!

anthonyboyle Holy shit he’s looking more like his dad every day ain’t he?

keoghan92 Poor lad

Completely fictional! Barry is all up in the comment section and Raff Law is always all up in the likes but it’s because those two are always (or used to be) online haha

Let me know if ya’ll liked it and if you’d want more 🫶🏻

#made by me*#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner instagram edit #callum turner fanfic #dad! callum

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angelliicc · 4 months ago

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peach soda

“you're a peach soda, flavor of my heart

a fruit that resembles the shape of love.”

masterlist

a/n HI EVERYONE! lowkey changed careers tbh. anyways enjoy this fic and go stream aboutzu!!

warnings not proofread, angst, mentions of ex bf

| "alright, time for jeopardy. move the chairs and desks in tables." your math teacher said. jeopardy was a fun way your class could study for any math tests. he was your favorite teacher.

"ellie, you're on my jeopardy team." you told her. you never really liked ellie as a person and you avoided her most of the time. she was kind of a bitch, but she was one of the last options. she was smart, but not as smart as you. she would only get in trouble for doing something stupid.

"you need help?" she whispered. if people were caught helping each other, they were eliminated from that round. "really quick before we get disqualified." you told her. ellie showed you her notes, and they way she solved the problem. it made sense now after seeing her notes.

you raise your hand, waiting for you answered to be checked. your teacher notices your hand raised, looks at the whiteboard and analyzes is. "that is correct." he told you.

"thanks." you told ellie.

"anytime." you were flustered by the kind gesture, since she only rarely interacted with you.

after school, you text dina about the situation that happened in math. d: "i need a little more background history with her."

r: "she used to bully me and be an asshole, but shes sweeter now. she likes to tease me. and her laugh, its so cute."

the next day at school, you had p.e outside. you decided to play basketball because you needed to get some work in. ellie was walking to the bathroom while seeing you play, her waving and smiling to you. you waved back and shot a smiled. when you didn't see her anymore, your cheeks turned bright red. when she came back, she went down the stairs giving you a hi-five, but intentionally missed, a laugh escaping her mouth. "fuck you." you replied, then both end up smiling.

after that interaction, you saw ellie at a different court, playing king of the court. you dropped your ball and ran to the other court. you invited yourself in until she spoke; "check up."

you bounce back the ball, being in defense. "wide out your stance." she told you. "thanks...??" you said confused, but also relieved with her advice.

she scored on you, but after that she went and played tennis with some of her friends.

a couple of weeks later, the trimester ended. which meant you switched seats in every class except math.

in social studies and religion, ellie sat next to you. in ela, she sat across from you in a table.

social studies had a trimester long lesson, which meant you had to cram for tests and take speedy notes. you finished yours early because you followed the slideshow on your computer. "can i see your notes?" she asked you, since she couldn't catch up. "sure." you replied. "can you help me?" she asked quietly. you helped ellie on the notes. government was really easy to you, so you explained it as simply as possible.

on thursday, you were back at social studies with ellie. you had p.e. before then, so you sprayed perfume in the bathroom. she notices by the smell of you. "whats that smell?" she asked you.

"its my perfume." you told her.

"can i have it really quick?" she questioned. you grab the perfume out of your backpack and hand it to her. as you hand it to her, you both hold hands for a split second, which made you grow a smile you had to keep hidden. she grabbed the perfume and sprayed it on herself, smiling at you. "not bad." she said. you smiled back.

after that, you both did more notetaking together. you guys were ahead, so you played wordle, helping each other out.

in ela class, a classmate asked ellie a question. "hey ellie, who are your reposts about?" they questioned

"oh, just this beautiful girl." she replied to them, looking at you while the words exited her mouth. you froze.

"what the fuck did she say?" you thought.

"nah im playin." she told the classmate, easily dismissing them.

"so, then are your reposts about d?" they replied. you didn't know who d was.

"yeah, i like her."

your jaw dropped, not it sadness, but in surprise. not expecting her to like another girl, after all of this? she just lead you on, and for what? you were incredibly pissed.

a week passed, so you texted dina.

r: "i dont like her anymore."

d: WHAT??

r: "i know. shes been distant and ignoring me. so im just like 'okay fuck you i don't care about you anymore."

weeks later, feelings slowly started to burn out. you had a math test earlier today. after any tests or quizzed, your teacher lets you take a haul pass and lets you walk outside to get fresh air. just by coincidence, you and your ex walked around the school at the same time.

"i gotta take a retake later this week." he told you

"just take your time and memorize the answer sheet since you already have it." you replied.

later in the week, your ex came up to you, asking for a favor. you both were on student council together and had to lead morning prayer and pledge.

"hey, can you do me a favor?" he asked, walking up to you before assembly started.

"whats up?" you question, curiously.

"i have 2 tests to study for, and the teacher told me i can ask someone to do it for me. if not ill ask someone else." he spoke

"sorry, i have to study for a test too. if i didn't though i would." you told him.

"its alright, thanks tho."

at lunch, you saw him again. you realized he completely forgot about. you walked up to him, telling him about it. "yo, go do your retake." you reminded him.

"oh shit i completely forgot, thank you for reminding me." he replied thankfully.

after school, you usually stayed later because of sports. you had some free time before practice, so that day you planned on walking to the boba shop. before you left you overheard a classmate asking your ex if they both wanted to walk together. you go up to them, "hey im gonna go right now if any of yall wanna come with me." you asked. "im gonna wait a while, thanks tho." your ex said.

you walked to the boba shop, placing your order. just as you were about to leave, you see both of them. "you both gonna stay after school a while?" you asked.

"nah, im gonna head home." he replied.

"alright, see you tomorrow." you told him.

a few weeks later, ellie started to talk to you again. you folded--as one does and added her to your close friends.

hours later, she liked your story. you were jumping for joy.

the next day at school, she was back to being flirty with you. maybe its because she heard about the interaction with your ex boyfriend? in science, you had to proofread reports. and to by some surprise, you were assigned to ellie.

in your report you decided to show her a graph you were proud of. "do you like it?" you asked her. she grabbed your computer and analyzed the report, then after going through the whole report, taking her time to make sure you had no mistakes whatsoever. you tried to not blush during the whole time. "good job." she told you

after you proofread hers, she commented on your hands. "god, your hands are so small? and you're older than me?"

"idk, genes maybe?" you told her.

"here." she grabbed your hand and compared hand sizes with you. you stomach was doing flips. "maybe i do like her again. fuck." you thought.

you both had ela next period. seats were changed earlier this time, since people couldn't stop talking. ellie, somehow, sat near you. this time, behind you.

you wore a slim fit jacket, enhancing your body figure. ellie noticed. "like your jacket." she commented.

"thanks." you said back. she kept touching your back with her fingers, playing with your jacket, freezing with every finger she laid on you.

the following days, more social studies classes with her. she kept flirting and smiling with you. she shushed you today, in a cute way. god it made your heart skip a beat.

later in that same class, you were walking. all of a sudden she trapped you in a hug form. "oh my god ellie, let me go." you say smiling at her. "alright, alright, fine." she said surrendering, then smiling back at you, having that rosy touch on her cheeks.

from that day on, she kept being flirty with you. touching and tapping your shoulders constantly. with every touch, your heart rate always increased. she was acting so cute towards you, it was driving you crazy. like she was a little puppy who couldn't be apart from you.

few classes and tension later, a classmate asked ellie a question. you were too far away to hear them, but since ellie was next to you, you heard her response. "oh yeah? shes my valentine." ellie replied.

you were screaming inside, trying to not show a reaction. few minutes later, it was back to notetaking time. ellie put her hand on your shoulder for 10 seconds, which felt like an eternity to you. after that, she patted your back, 3 times. you turned and faced her, face turning red.

you noticed ellie likes to play this stupid game with you. she'll whisper your name, then act completely clueless. she whispered your name, hearing it loud and clear. you looked at her.

"what! it wasn't me!" she tells you defensively.

ellie then dropped her pen, so she got up from her desk. as she went to sit down, she pat your shoulder, then looking straight into your eyes and telling you "im just playing, it was me." it was like you get sent into another dimension. you fell, hard. you got butterflies just from that sentence alone.

the next day, you completed a spanish test. your teacher was returning back the test with the scores on them. ellie asked you, "what did you get on the test?"

"oh i dont know, i haven't gotten my paper back yet." you told her.

"when you do, tell me your score please." she begged.

the teacher called your name, and you went up to get your paper. "98." you said to ellie with a chesire smile. "whatever." she replied back, smiling. you both then started laughing and smiling while looking at each other.

after spanish, she did those stupid hi-five tricks again. unintrigued, you asked her, "are you gonna miss?"

"nah, i wont." she said, with her hand in the air.

you decided to give her a hi-five, and she didn't intentionally ditch you. "you didn't miss, what a shocker." you told her. she then grabbed tictacs out of her backpack.

“can i get some?” you ask her. she handed you the container, allowing you to get how many you want.

a few months passed and you noticed ellie wasnt talking to you anymore, but to a new girl, doing the exact same things she did to you, but to her. then all of a sudden, she stopped talking to you. she didn’t flirt with you, give you tictacs, touch your hands, or tap you on the shoulders. it all started to become flat, like soda. you decided you had to let her go. because what she gave you wasn’t love at all, it was lust. she led you on the entire time. all for what? it was all one-sided love. you felt like a fool.

my feelings for you, which have melted like ice, have become clear

i say goodbye with a wave, peach soda.

#ellie williams x you #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #the last of us #twice #twice dive

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anton-luvr · 1 year ago

Note

I absolutely LOVED your dreaming if you cheacting reaction! For the event, can you do a reaction where you dream they cheat? thanks so much i absolutely love your writing pooks 🤭

# WHEN YOU DREAM OF THEM CHEATING ON YOU ; 7riize.

⚝ bf!riize x fem!reader | fluff | bf au ⚝ note ; sorry for the inactivity guys!! i graduated highschool earlier this week so i took some time to rest and celebrate with my friends hehe <3 and thank u !! sorry for the wait, i hope u like this :3

# SHOTARO. - you don't believe your dream at all, and neither does shotaro when you tell him about it the next day. the both of you know how committed and loyal you are with each other, so while the dream is somewhat disturbing, it's soon forgotten with laughs, a quick kiss from shotaro, and watching your favorite movie while cuddling.

# EUNSEOK. - don't get him wrong, he loves you to bits, but he can't help but burst out laughing when you complain about your nasty dream. like him??? cheat on you????? you're so silly <3 but of course, he'll comfort and reassure you that he would never. seals that promise with a long kiss and princess treatment all day.

# SUNGCHAN. - it's just a dream, but he feels terrible about it. to prove to you that he has never cheated on you (and never will tbh he's so in love with you), he lets you go through his phone and do whatever you need to be assured that he isn't living a double life behind your back. once you're relieved, he smothers you with kisses and whispers of 'my only lover' and 'my prettiest girl' <3

# WONBIN. - like sungchan, he feels so bad about it. will hold you close and reassure you that he'll never do that to you, pressing soft kisses to your hands while he holds them, tracing random shapes on to them with his fingers. he'll be apologizing too, even though he didn't do anything wrong. pretty boy just wants you to feel better and reassured that he'll love you and you only :(

# SEUNGHAN. - absolutely disgusted. he'll never do that to you, but the fact that he did in your dreams makes him sick to the stomach. even after you've told him it's just a dream and you'll forget all about it, he won't stop apologizing and telling you how much he loves you. will kiss you from head to toe while showering you in compliments, saying things like 'my baby with the prettiest eyes' and 'my baby with the cutest smile' <3

# SOHEE. - treats you like a princess for the rest of the day. he'd never cheat on you, but he wants to make it up to you for the terror the dream threw on you. cooks (or tries to cook) breakfast for you, takes you out for your favorite overpriced coffee and buys you a dress you've been wanting for a while, and ending the night with cuddles and endless kisses and whispered promises :(

# ANTON. - he's so confused because he would never!!! tells you just that with a warm kiss and an arm wrapped tightly around your waist to keep you close to him, and proceeds to list out an entire list of reasons why he'd never cheat on you and what he loves most about you. ends up with the both of you falling in love with each other more than ever, glad that it was all just a stupid dream.

taglist : @wonbons @mxlly143 @keehobaldboy @shawyle @yenart (drop an ask to be added to my taglist!)

#sarah's 400 ! ☆#riize #riize fluff #riize angst #riize drabbles #riize fics #riize imagines #riize scenarios #riize reactions #riize anton #riize sohee #riize seunghan #riize wonbin #riize sungchan #riize eunseok #riize shotaro

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studentbyday · 4 months ago

Text

week 1. a stuttering start.

i can't believe autumn is already approaching. i feel like i haven't done much to truly live on my own terms this year... (the majority of my time was spent either chained to my desk, living the studying hermit life as usual, or...and this is a new one for this era of my life, feeling like a child following the real adults around on my travels which @zzzzzestforlife documents way better tbh. the travels, that is...)

in addition i've been feeling very unmotivated and numb this school year. even more so than usual. i've never been as zesty as...well, Zesty when it comes to new school years, but it has slowly been getting worse since i started uni and i think i'm getting dangerously close to falling off some cliff i'll later realize was an important cliff to not fall off of. do you get what i mean? i'm only speaking vaguely because i myself do not quite know.

i oscillate between wanting to be extraordinary and extra ordinary. i have fallen back into bad habits, which do not set a good precedent. and overall i feel lost. so so lost that i started reading designing your life. and dulled by the isolation of school i can hardly focus. it's not a new problem, i've just finally been able to put words to it after all these years. engaging and/or cathartic verbal conversation brings me back to life, whether i'm listening or speaking, but i don't get enough of that in my daily life...this is just a very weird mundane state to be in. don't get me wrong, i was relieved to get back to this life with a very predictable pattern after the hectic-ness of travel, but something about it always felt off and i almost can't believe that only now i've realized why.

anyway, feelings pass. and i have overcome the jet lag, so i am that much more energized (and perhaps a little more desperate) to bulldoze through this problem.

Study:

Read/skimmed all the syllabi for anything new (much of it is the same year-to-year as they're all courses in the same faculty and i am resigned to the fact that there will be weighty group work in at least one course out of every year)

Caught up on course announcements

Finished microbiology module for this week (hmmm i read like half of this module last year when i attempted and then dropped this course so it wasn't the most interesting the second time around but i think it'll get better as i get to the new stuff and the nitty-gritty details 🔬 mwahahaha 🦠 i also decided last minute to make flashcards for these and had to transfer my notes to anki. i wish there weren't so many isolated facts or similar but distinct processes i need to remember.)

Made flashcards for half of this week's immunology content (seems to be a memorization-heavy course and i think i really need the active recall since i barely remember the pre-req info 😅 luckily they review it in the module... 🤭)

Reviewed some of the flashcards made this week

Worked on (but didn't finish) global health slides for this week (i'm...not entirely sure what i should be taking notes on or how because...this all seems either very common sense or kind of..."woo-woo" based on my way of understanding the world...but ig that's my own biases talking? i hope they'll just test us on the common sense stuff. that will be easier for my brain 🥴)

Around half of pathology slides are left from this week (probably the most work intensive course i'm taking rn based on the timeline 😵 but also it's shaping up to be my favorite subject this semester because the modules are so well designed AND it's large processes or, even if it's smaller concepts, they're all connected to each other so i don't need flashcards!...i think! i can just pull on the thread of memory and it all unspools (...ideally...)!)

Wrote down due dates for all assessments this semester

Other life things: (yeah idk what to call this section)

I became a 6AM girlie!!! 🥰🥰🥰

Unpacked

Washed my water bottle

Caught up with a friend 💗

Health:

Yoga x2

Journalled x2

Early morning walk in nature x1 (the air smelled so so fresh i was so glad i went out...and even gladder that i went out when i did because after that the air quality got super bad from wildfire smoke 🥺)

Pilates x1 (i made it! in 2 split sessions, but still! and i feel great!!! 😃 i'm so glad i found this channel because she explains the moves in a way that i can get it even with my bad coordination 😅 she also goes slowly and there is no annoying workout music so i can completely focus on the movements and how they feel, it's perfect. 😊)

Music in My Head:

Blue Danube Waltz (OG piano version)

Treat People With Kindness

On the Sunny Side of the Street

Hikaru Nara (the perfect song for my current ambivalent mood because the whole theme of the anime, which is reflected in the sound of this arrangement, is the need to reignite your spark for the things that mean something to you and make the absolute most of it because life is short)

a few dark academia playlists that i put on loop to study to (links under the cut) (somehow the ones with new age music are the only ones i can listen to...light/quiet enough that it doesn't interrupt my thoughts but intense and melodic enough that it puts me in the mood to focus ��)

youtube

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goldenfigtree · 1 year ago

Text

Operation: Pamper Condor One

Summary: It’s your one year anniversary and you decide to make it your mission to give Leon the treatment he deserves.

Pairing: Leon Kennedy (any Leon of your choice tbh) x Fem!Reader

Warning: toothrotting fluff

Note: yeah I know, I know it’s spooky season but I’m a lover for the aesthetic of Valentine’s Day and thought it’d make this Drabble even more romantic. Sue me! Either way I hope you enjoy! This one is one of my longer ones.

February 14th was a day you despised with every fiber of your being. The hearts, roses, and the sickly shades of red and pink never swooned you. Any mention of the holiday earned a gag and an eye roll from you in return. Mainly because it reminded you how single you were, but you never said that aloud. Instead you went with the more indirect reasonings when questioned,

“Valentine’s day is just another unnecessary commercial exploitation” was your favorite one to use. But deep down, you envied those who got to celebrate having a significant other, wishing you could join in all of the fun. That is, until Leon Kennedy came along. Being the cliche and cheesy guy that he is deep down, he decided it’d be romantic to ask you to be his girlfriend on Valentine’s Day at your doorstep with an oversized bouquet of roses. One year later and your perception of this romantic holiday had completely been redefined. That’s what love does to you, you guess.

And now here you were, a week before Valentine’s day secretly planning the most romantic evening you have ever planned in your life. To be fair, it was the first romantic evening you ever planned, making it the most romantic thus far. It being the first romantic date you had planned made you all the more excited and anxious to make sure everything was absolutely perfect. Not one candle or balloon was out of place. Despite all the chatter from your friends, saying that it should be the boyfriend planning these sort of dates on this holiday, you didn’t care how you may look putting this together. More important matters were at hand, specifically Leon not really being the same since his last mission.

You remembered clearly how exhausted he looked when you picked him up from the airport, how he practically fell into your arms, how permanent his frown has been since then. You hated seeing him like that. You wish you could take his pain and exhaustion away, but you couldn’t, and that you hated more. So, in hopes to lift his spirits, you thought of Valentine’s day being the perfect opportunity to give him the treatment he deserves, especially on a day that the both of you held dear to your hearts. Screw the tradition, the expectations, all you cared about was getting your Leon back. The Leon who was serious to some but especially giddy and happy with you. The Leon who always had a twinkle in his eye when explaining something he was passionate about. You were getting him back if it was the last thing you did.

The week flew out the window with the fiercely cold winds of winter, and the time had finally come to execute Operation: Pamper Condor One. Wearing a lipstick red chain knit sweater and a pair of jeans, you pull your hair up into a bun at the top of your head and wrap it with a white scrunchy with tiny hearts. Looking in the mirror you didn’t expect to come to this point in your life. You didn’t think you’d ever enjoy today like this, much less with someone who made life worth perceiving at a different, more positive angle. But, you weren’t complaining, you liked this new you and you sincerely hoped that you could bring the old Leon back tonight.

Looking around your apartment with brows furrowed, you murmured your checklist to yourself to ensure everything was in place. It was safe to say that you went all out with this one. Heart shaped pillows replaced your usual everyday pillows on the couch, candles were lit everywhere in the house to the point where it was almost a safety hazard, and most importantly, rose petals scattered on the sheets of your bed. Nibbling on your thumbnail, your mind spirals in a panic as you wait for him to arrive.

Is this too much? Will he hate it?

You thought to yourself looking around the apartment from your couch, your legs crossed and your one heart patterned sock covered foot bouncing anxiously. So deep in thought, you jump at the sound of Leon’s familiar knock, one he came up with so you knew it was him at your door. Standing up so fast, you begin to almost see stars as you clumsily make your way to your front door and swing it open.

“Hey beautiful” Leon greets, his voice soft, sentimental, yet so very exhausted. With an oversized bouquet of your favorite type of flower in his arms, he has to tilt his head to the side to look at you.

“Awe you shouldn’t have!” you gush happily as you tug his arms toward you to lead him inside.

“You didn’t think I’d forget our one year did you?” He grunts as he places the bouquet down on your kitchen counter.

“Never” You reply with a giggle as you watched him lean back to stretch his back,

“Jesus, those are heavy” He groans to himself, “you also have something coming in later tonight”

You couldn’t help but snicker at his obliviousness towards his surroundings, as he continued to speak,

“I also got us a reservation at your favorite restaurant, we’re supposed to be there in… wait what’s all this?” he asks softly, turning around and taking notice of the romantic ambience of your apartment.

“I’d cancel that reservation if I were you, because we’re not going” you say leaning against the kitchen counter, crossing your arms,

“We aren’t?” He asks cautiously, turning back to you. You smile smugly and shake your head,

“Nope, tonight we’re going to be focusing on you” turning him to face you and wrapping your arms around his neck, you place a soft peck on his lips as his eyes turn up in thought,

“Me?” He murmurs against your lips, earning an agreeing hum from you in return,

“Go sit at the dining table, I’ll be there in a minute okay?” still a bit unsure of how this evening was going to turn out, he eventually nods and makes his way to your circle dining table. Noticing a wrapped box leaning against his chair, wondering what it could be.

Not long after, you walk out with a pizza box in your hand, Leon’s eyes immediately light up noticing the emblem on the top lid,

“Is that–”

“Your favorite? Of course” you triumphantly respond, placing the box on the table and opening the lid. The savory aroma of melted cheese and pepperoni filled the air which filled Leon’s eyes with excitement. Something you hadn’t seen in a while, seeing it now made your heart soar. So far, your plan was going swimmingly. Serving him a slice, you place a kiss on his forehead and sit across from him. While taking a bite of his pizza, he looks around at all your hard work and attention to detail in awe,

“Babe, you did all of this…for me?” You look up from your plate and reach out to take his hand with a loving smile,

“Well, you’re always taking care of me, I thought maybe I could do it for a change” You explain, a bashful grin growing on your lips as you squeeze his hand. His eyebrows furrow as his mouth falls slightly, something told him it was because of how he’d been acting since he came home. Guilt washed over him, he thought he had hid it so well. But this extravagant gesture showed him the opposite of what he thought was reality. You had often asked him what happened and if he was feeling okay and in return, he just shrugged it off. Telling you not to worry about him, that he could take care of himself. Little did he know how much that isolated the both of you back then. But he saw it now,

“Baby, I’m sorry for being so off lately and shutting you out. I thought I was protecting you but I think I did the opposite” your eyes softened at his words as you stood from your chair. Kneeling down you take him in your arms and kiss his forehead,

“I know” your breath brushed against his skin, causing his shoulders to drop slightly, “You were trying to tough it out right?”

With a soft exhale through his nose, he nods his head slightly, “You know you don’t have to carry this weight on your own right? That’s what I’m here for” you continue brushing some his hair away from his face,

“I guess, I don’t exactly know how to do that” resting your forehead against his own, you rest your hands behind his neck, the pads of your fingers making his eyes flutter slightly in bliss,

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it easier for you, starting tonight”

A small smile grows on his face, your soft voice always being music to his ears, and knowing you cared this much, to do all this for him. Since you two had intertwined your lives, you continued to show him what he had been missing. What he yearned without knowing. Nodding his head, he leans in to press his lips to yours. His hands gently lifted you closer to him and before you knew it, you were sitting on his lap, legs dangling over his right thigh as your lips failed to pull away. Every kiss rebukes all anxieties and fears from both of your minds. After one last peck, his lashes flutter down as he notices the wrapped present against his chair again. You notice and with a chuckle you reach down and place it on the table,

“Happy One Year my love” you coo nuzzling your head against the side of his. You wished you could take a photo of the look on his face as he eyed the carefully wrapped box. He looked like a little boy on Christmas Day,

“go on, open it” you urge. With a quiet laugh he makes the first tear of the paper and then another tear. With your legs swinging, you watch him open the box and pull out a T-Shirt and read the words. His smile widens as he reads it and out comes a laugh you missed so dearly, like a dream that flees from you the moment you awake.

“My Girlfriend Is Hotter Than You” he reads it aloud and places a smooch on your cheek, “that she is, that she is”

“That’s not all” you say with a smirk, earning an eyebrow raise from him,

“Is there something else in the box?”

“Nope” your hands leave his neck and reach the hem of your sweater, beginning to lift it from your body. A motion, you noticed, made Leon’s cheeks redden. You lift it over your head and drop it to the floor to reveal your matching t-shirt,

“My Boyfriend Is Hotter Than You” in bold black letters matching him. He practically gasps and tightens his arms around you peppering kisses along your neck, making you giggle from his excitement,

“And you said you hated these type of shirts” he points out smugly,

“What can I say? You’re a bad influence on me” you retort back, standing up from his lap and extending your hand,

“C’mon the night isn’t over” Leon’s ears redden from your words, as he takes your hand and lets you lead him into the bedroom. Sitting him on the bed, you grab his shirt and lift it from the bottom, with a shy yet excited twinkle in his eyes, he lets you. Placing it neatly on your dresser, you sit behind him on the bed,

“What are you doing?” Leon asks with a look of intrigue on his face,

“Giving you a massage, duh” you tease,

“Oh, I thought we were gonna…” he clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish chuckle, “right” he adds, sounding a tad disappointed. Pressing a kiss on the back of his neck, sending shivers down the man’s spine, you ruffle his hair and whisper in his ear,

“Maybe later” you almost saw his ears perk up from your words as your hands stroked along the scars littering his back. You remembered the first time you saw those scars. Wanting to kiss every single one of them away, knowing how much of a burden they casted on your lovely boyfriend. Resting your hands on his shoulders, your thumbs knead the area beneath, feeling the pent up tension,

“Does this hurt?” You ask with uncertainty,

“No, feels good” he murmurs, his eyes gently closed. With a sigh of relief you begin to rub down and knead every area of his back. Sighs and grunts escape his lips as he feels his body tense and relax from your touch. You smiled softly, glad to see him receiving the attention and care he deserved. You couldn’t imagine how tense he must have felt using his body so brutally to survive and play hero. You could feel the exhaustion, pain, and stress leave with every manipulation of muscle, “I love you” he murmurs again, his eyes half lidded and a dreamy smile on his lips.

“I love you, too” you softly respond, hugging him from behind, “how do you feel now?”

“Amazing” he mutters under his breath, “Thank you”

You can’t help but gush at his words, always so sweet, so polite. Getting up from the bed you run to the bathroom and take one of your clay masks and place it on your dresser,

“You’re really spoiling me here” he comments bashfully as you also come back with the leftover pizza in the pizza box, his gift and turn on the tv.

You chuckle and begin opening the clay mask and walk over to him. He widens his eyes and holds his hands up, “Wait, lemme do something first” he says, causing you to lift your brows curiously. Grabbing the t-shirt you gifted him, he slips it on and admires the letters spreading across his chest, “Okay now you can continue”

“So you like the shirt huh?” You tease smearing the teal paste onto his forehead,

“I thought I made it obvious” he retorts back sassily, closing his eyes. You roll your eyes and continue smearing the mask on his face,

“There all done, now just relax” you reassure, pressing him farther onto the bed,

“Wait, you’re not wearing a mask” he points out taking the paste from you, “c’mere”

“Leon, this is about you remember” you protest,

“Last I checked, it’s our one year anniversary, not mine. Now come here, I’m not doing this alone” he adds the last part sternly, making you sigh in defeat and scoot over to him so he can apply the paste onto your face. You can’t help but smile as you watch him carefully apply the paste on your face as neatly as possible. After he finishes, he kisses your lips earning a sound in protest,

“Babe, you’re going to make the mask crack” you say sheepishly,

“Tuff” he remarks, hovering his body over yours to kiss you more deeply.

The doorbell rings making Leon pull away, his eyes filled with excitement,

“It’s here” he whispers to himself, hopping off the bed and making his way to the door. Coming back he holds a gigantic teddy bear, the exact one you were eyeing while the two of you were running errands together,

“You didn’t!” You gasp,

“I did” effortlessly, lifting the teddy bear that was half the size of him, he places it next to you, “like it?”

“I love it! Thank you” you gush hugging the bear tightly.

“Alright alright, I’m right here you don’t need to cuddle it now” he adds, a tinge of jealousy in his tone, pushing the bear aside and collapsing onto you earning an,

“Oof” from you as you wrapped your arms around him,

“I think I’m ready to talk about it all now” he says as he lays his head against your chest, looking up at you with puppy eyes. You feel all your worries of this plan being a disaster fall away from his words,

“Well go on, I’m listening” with a long, tired sigh he begins to explain everything. The horrors, the betrayals, the losses he endured to make it home. You kept quiet and let him talk about it. Your hands massaging his scalp to comfort him. Once he was done, he lifted himself up from you to look into your eyes,

“I really am sorry for shutting you out. I was just.. afraid of burdening you”

“What you go through, I want to go through it with you. I wish you understood that, that’s what I mean when I say I love you”

“I understand that now.” He begins to say, “we’re a team right?”

“Exactly, you’re so smart” your compliment causes him to blush and smile,

“What was it you said about doing something later?” He says endearingly,

“I said maybe”

“Is it more of a yes than a no kind of maybe or…” he responds suggestively, pressing himself against you making you blush slightly, “Because I think I owe you something in return for all of this, princess”

“If it frees your conscience, sure” wrapping your arms around his neck you lean forward and share a kiss with your lover. Feeling his smile curve against your own, it was safe to say Operation: Pamper Condor One was a success.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil drabble #resident evil imagines #leon resident evil #heart day #so this is love #mwuah mwuah mwuah #Spotify

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quiet-saint · 4 months ago

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sᴛʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ!ɴᴇʀᴏ ʜᴄs

✮

With just a splash of Nero/gn!reader

Cw: slight nsfw/suggestive. Nothing serious just a toy is mentioned near the end.

A/n: Might be ooc as this is the first time I'm writing anything for Nero. Purely self-indulgent ngl. Already working on a pt 2 ft more nero/reader tbh, I just really like this idea. +18 pls.

✮

• Not a huge streamer but still pretty popular. Has been streaming on and off for like, four years before he got popular.

• There's definitely a compilation out there of his funniest gamer rage moments. The majority of the time Nero isn't even mad at the game, Nico purposefully annoys him whenever they play together. People love their dynamic.

• Has kicked her from the group but then she'll just watch the stream and irritate him in the chat. It's pretty pointless to kick Nico from the group though because she can and has come down to his room just to pop up in his live irl. Anytime this happens chat starts a 'Nico Nation' chain and Nero jokingly threatens to end the stream.

• People bring up his "pretty boy phase" constantly in which Nero's hair was longer and he wore jewelery, saying they miss it and he should bring it back. Nero's a little shy/embarrassed when people bring up his early streaming days but he is in the process of growing his hair out. You were the one to fully convince him.

• Loves interacting with his audience even though they're a little outta pocket sometimes. "Chat who the hell said they only watch my streams for Nico? Dude your name is literally–" squints his eyes in confusion and disbelief "Nerofeetpicswhen oh my gOD!"

• Plays more light-hearted, easy games most of the time. Plays fortnite but not often. Teams up on overwatch with Nico, V, and You (Nero gives mercy main energy don't ask me why)

• Will play horror games but gets jumpscared super easy. Curses a lot during those streams. Damn near shatters eardrums with his shouting.

• His favorite streams are when he has one of his friends there with him at home. Especially if it's you.

• Will do a stream as an excuse to have you over. "Dude I spent the weekend at your house just last week?" "Aw c'mon it'll be fun!" As if you really needed any persuading. It's nice to hear him beg though, isn't it?

• Gets so excited to tweet about it too. Lowkey giddy about it.

• Will be the type to say "can't end on a loss guys." Even though his rank is dropping.

• Everyone loves his wii-sports streams. Nero once broke his tv on live because he didn't use the wii strap while playing baseball. People still bring it up and he gets embarrassed because just moments before it happened chat was warning him.

• Had V over for the weekend once and they were playing wii tennis in his room but there wasn't enough space. As a result Nero ended up swinging hard and clocking V in the face, giving him a bloody nose. He still feels so bad for it. Especially because Nero gets tagged in videos titled "Nero hits V on stream NOT CLICKBAIT" V thinks it's funny.

• Nero gets so happy to do fanmail livestreams. Loves opening all the things fans send him. Displays art proudly on his walls as well as all the plushies and figures people send. By the end of the fanmail streams Nero is wearing a different, clashing outfit because of the clothing he receives.

• Although sometimes the packages are a little inappropriate.

• Nico once went through the trouble of ordering and sending a ridiculously huge dildo. He felt the weight and shape through the packaging and, due to the note left with the gift, Nero knew it was her immediately. It's still sitting in his closet in the corner because he doesn't know how to get rid of it.

✮ random bonus hc ✮

Nero drinks Monster. His top two choices are Pipeline punch or Ultra blue. If he drinks one on stream he'll say "monster sponsor me" lmfao

#nero x reader #nero/reader #nero sparda x reader #nero sparda/reader #my writing

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hyperfixatedonthisnow · 1 year ago

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Siren's call

*not my GIF I know, I know, I suck at titles, but I’ve come to accept this about myself and therefore so must you! Summary: A Siren and a privateer fall in love, but how will he react when he finally learns what she is? Requested by: Anonymous - Sturmhond/Nikolai finds out his girlfriend is a siren. How will that go? - Dearest anon, I am *so* sorry that this took me so long to put out. I fell down a bit of a rabbit hole researching Sirens and found your request so interesting that I honestly could have written much more. I started out with Sturmhond, then switched to Nikolai after reader learns his real name, and I went with Sirens as shape-shifting mermaids, rather than the Greek version of bird like creatures, mostly because it was easier to write in but also because birds freak me out a bit tbh, I’m hoping you don’t mind. Also there’s smut at the end, but if you don’t like that then feel free to stop reading when the kissing starts 😉 I realized way too late that I probably should have asked you for more details 🤦‍♀️ So I can only hope that this is something close to what you wanted! Word count: 7.5K ish - because much like our favorite prince/privateer, I prefer to use several words when one will do 😅

Warnings: NSFW - 18+ only. Mild peril, mild angst, a touch of fluff, minor OC’s who exist only to further the (minimal) plot, a very brief mention of non-con (but not with Nikolai), smut, fem!reader, P in V sex, semi-rough sex, marking, unprotected sex (not recommended in real life!)

You had been following the ship closely for weeks, watching the crew, learning their habits, and charting their course to figure out the best time to take them. Amalia preferred to wait until they were close to land, though it was easier and safer to simply lure them into open water out at sea. She liked the challenge, but more than that, she liked to be the last thing the men saw before they died. It made her feel powerful- to know how much they wanted her and could never have her.

If it was up to you, you would wait until nightfall and sing from a distance, letting your enchanting lullaby guide the men from their beds straight into a watery grave. You didn’t take pleasure in their deaths, even if you knew it was necessary. Unnatural your sisters teased, for a Siren to have such a soft heart. Amalia never joined in with the teasing, though you knew she didn’t really understand you either. Still, she indulged you by allowing you to act as scout, and that meant you could mostly narrow down the targets to pirates and slavers, offering the fishermen and other sailors some small semblance of protection.

Whenever possible, you would scout several ships at a time, so that you could choose the one you wanted and hopefully sway Amalia towards it when you returned to discuss your findings. Unfortunately, only one ship had passed through your waters in almost a month, and although you felt it was worth saving, there was no second option.

When you met with Amalia, you thought carefully about what you had found before you spoke, deciding on the major details you should share with her and filtering out your own more personal observations.

At first glance, it had seemed like a Pirate ship, but further investigation proved that it was not. The crew was an eclectic mix of men, women, and Grisha, of various ages and races. The captain - who went by the name Sturmhond and insisted he was not a pirate, but a privateer - was young, barely out of boyhood, and yet it was clear that he commanded their respect.

He ran a tight ship, but he always treated his crew warmly and he worked alongside them often, doing his fair share of the hard work. He was rarely angry and never cruel, as far as you could tell. At night the crew would gather on the deck to drink and play cards, and he usually joined them. He didn’t seem to think himself above their company as some captains would. You watched him dance and laugh along with the others, and when he lost at cards, he always took it in good humour.

In the conversations you had overheard, the captain’s responses were measured and kind, free from judgment or scorn. Although they carried an impressive arsenal of weapons, you had witnessed no violence from him, nor any of his crew. No prisoners taken, no poor souls forced to walk the plank, no slaves bound in the hull of his ship.

He spent most of his hours working on some flying contraption and after several failed tests, you saw his joy when it actually worked. He was a good man, you had concluded. Intelligent and funny, and handsome, too. You tried to imagine Amalia’s face if you admitted that last bit out loud - she would probably think you had taken leave of your senses completely.

You bit your lip, wondering how you could persuade her to spare them, to spare him.

“Actually, I was thinking… maybe we should… let this one go,” you suggested tentatively. Might as well just be direct.

Amalia stared at you as though you had grown an extra head. “Let them go?” She said after a moment, her nose scrunching in disgust. “You think these men should live?”

“They aren’t just men,” you rushed, trying to justify yourself. “There are women on the crew, and Grisha too.”

“And?” Amalia prompted.

“And, they don’t deserve to be punished for the sins of men,” you argued, “they’re innocent.”

Amalia rolled her eyes, “They’ve chosen to take up with a pirate, have they not?”

“Privateer,” you corrected, but the moment the word was out you wished you could call it back.

Amalia narrowed her eyes suspiciously at you. “Privateer?” She echoed.

“Yes?” You squeaked, and it sounded more like a question than an answer. You cleared your throat. “Yes. He’s not a pirate, he’s a privateer, and he’s a good man, Amalia. I’ve seen it.”

Amalia laughed, “There is no such thing as a good man,” she muttered, “They are all the same. Weak-minded, arrogant, selfish creatures. They live only for violence and destruction.”

“Not him,” you said firmly. “He’s not like the others.”

“He’s exactly like the others,” she snapped, “If you gave him the chance, he would kill you without a second thought.”

“No,” you argued, “You’re wrong about him. He’s smart and kind, and good. I swear it.”

She studied you for a long moment and you tried not to fidget under her disapproving gaze. Your cheeks felt hot, and you knew you were probably blushing.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve gone and fallen in love with him!” She exclaimed finally.

You said nothing, but your silence was answer enough. You looked away, pressing your lips together. It was out there now, no point in trying to deny it.

“Foolish girl,” Amalia said, shaking her head. “There is no future for you with him, surely you must see that?”

“Of course I do,” you whispered, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill over. “But I won’t watch him die Amalia. Not this one. I can’t.”

Amalia sighed, and then she surprised you by pulling you in to a tight hug.

“Please,” you begged, voice breaking.

“There’s a storm coming,” she murmured into your hair, “I suppose we could wait it out.”

“We could?” You questioned hopefully.

“If they can survive it, on their own, then we will leave them be. That’s the best I can do.”

Relief flooded through you, and you hugged Amalia tighter. “Thank you!” You cried.

She pulled back to look at you, her expression troubled. “I know you don’t want to believe it, but men are dangerous. All men. Even your privateer,” she said seriously, hands gripping your shoulders, “So if I do this, if I let him live, it is on the condition that you agree to stay away from him. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation. You would do anything to protect him.

“You must never see him again. Not ever. Promise me,” she insisted.

“I promise,” you said, the words bitter on your tongue.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The sea was rough, waves cresting 30ft high only to crash back down, as loud as thunder. You watched as the ship rose and fell along with them. You weren’t supposed to be here, had promised to stay away, but you couldn’t help yourself. You had to know that he would be ok. Amalia had agreed to wait until the storm had passed, but if the ship ran aground her small act of mercy wouldn’t matter.

You moved closer, letting the current sweep you towards the ship. It had to be taking on water, but so far, the crew seemed to be holding on. Once you were close enough, you watched them carefully. The Grisha who usually guided their sails spread his arms wide, fighting a losing battle against the ferocious winds. He was just a boy, and not nearly powerful enough to tame such a storm alone. A woman jumped from the lookout, rolling across the deck, and landing gracefully on her feet beside a tall man with similar features. They moved to secure the main sail, working in perfect tandem. A man in a teal coat ran from post to post, tightening the rigging and testing the knots before making his way to the helm to take the wheel. Sturmhond. His hair was plastered to his face, his clothes soaking wet. He took the wheel with both hands, pulling hard to the left, and though his expression was determined, you could sense his growing desperation.

The ship slowly began to turn, forcing the bow away from the storm. Trying to outrun it. For a moment it looked as though his plan might actually work, but then suddenly the ship listed dangerously starboard. Sturmhond struggled to right it, but it was too late. A wave crashed over the now tilted masts, snapping them clean away with a force that rolled the entire ship on to its side. It bobbed precariously for half a second, sailors clinging to the railings, before another wave hit, cracking the hull. If they weren’t taking on water before, they certainly were now. Finally, a voice called out, “ABANDON SHIP!” and the crew began leaping into the sea, frantically trying to escape the wreckage before it capsized completely.

Your eyes scanned the chaos, looking for Sturmhond. You found him clambering up one side of the railing, the ship already beginning to sink beneath his feet. He was looking around, searching for something. Checking all his crew had managed to get out. And then you saw it, at the same time he did - the Grisha crewman, hanging upside down, tangled in the remains of the rigging. The boy struggled, desperately trying to free himself, but he was stuck. Jump, you urged the privateer silently, leave him, but you already knew he wouldn’t. He turned away from the water and began climbing towards his crew mate instead. Stupid. He would never make it in time. The ship was sinking rapidly. In just a few precious seconds it would go under, and when it did, anyone still on it would be pulled under along with it.

You wanted to help him, but you knew you shouldn’t. You thought of your promise to Amalia. She would be furious if she found out you were here, even more so if you interfered. You hesitated, still watching from a safe distance as Sturmhond reached the Grisha with barely a moment to spare. He tugged a knife from his boot and cut the boy free, allowing him to drop safely into the water beneath them. The boy didn’t wait for his captain, he immediately began swimming away from the wreckage. But before Sturmhond could follow, another huge wave swept over the ship, dragging it - and him - underwater, just as you had predicted. He was going to drown.

You made a split-second decision, diving under the water to search for him. The weight of the sinking ship acted like a vacuum, sucking everything downward to the sea floor. You followed it down, but you couldn’t see him anywhere. Panic clawed at your chest. Had he made it to the surface by himself? You turned, ready to go back up, when a flash of teal and gold below you caught your eye. There. You dove back down, looping your arms under his and hauling him against you. He was limp, a heavy weight in your arms. You held him tight, swimming away from the wreckage and towards the surface as fast as you could.

When you reached the surface, you pulled him above the water line, working hard to keep you both afloat. His head lolled back on your shoulder and his eyes were closed. You weren’t sure if he was breathing, and you felt panic building again. You tried to ignore it as you headed for the shore, where you shifted quickly into human form. Once you had dragged him onto the wet sand, you laid him on his back and pressed your ear to his chest. There was no sound, no movement that suggested breathing. Maybe he swallowed too much water?

You turned his head to the side and then placed your hands over his stomach and pushed upwards, hard. Was that the right thing to do? You weren’t sure, but you thought you had seen it done before, once… maybe. Nothing happened. You tried again, and again… and again. Were you doing it wrong … or were you just too late? But then, suddenly, he was coughing up a lungful of water and gasping for breath as he came round. After a few moments he blinked his eyes open, finding you still leaning over him.

“Am I dead?” He mumbled.

“No,” you assured him. Thank the sea goddess! Overcome with emotion, you flung yourself at him, sobbing in relief. His arms closed around you hesitantly, though he surely thought you were insane - a perfect stranger, crying over him and hugging him without invitation.

The storm was over and the sea eerily still by the time the rest of his crew managed to make it to shore. You had calmed yourself, and Sturmhond was sitting up, chatting amiably with you, as if he hadn’t almost died mere minutes earlier. You learned that he had another ship, the Volkvolny, and he cheerfully informed you that really, the storm had done him a favour, because he hadn’t liked the other one all that much anyway. It was nothing short of a miracle that everyone had survived the wreckage with only minimal injuries, and that put them all in a remarkably good mood considering the circumstances. Sturmhond introduced you to the crew, and casually insisted you join them at the local tavern, to dry off and have a strong drink, or two.

As you got to your feet, you caught sight of Amalia at the far side of the shore. Too far away to really make out her features, but you could imagine the look of disappointment on her face. You had broken the promise you made her, and worse than that, here you were walking and talking with humans as though you were old friends. To top it all off, you had committed a cardinal sin amongst Sirens - you had saved a man’s life. You had chosen a man over your sisters, and no matter how much Amalia loved you, this was the one thing she could not forgive.

At the tavern, you quickly discovered that Sturmhond and his crew were a lively, friendly bunch. You were treated as the guest of honour since you had saved the captain’s life, and they welcomed you with open arms. So, when they planned to move to the Volkvolny, and asked if you wanted to come along, you agreed to go with them.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was far easier than you would have expected for you to adjust to your new life aboard the Volkvolny. You found that you had watched enough Sailors over the years to pick up some of the basics and luckily you hit it off with Tamar, who quickly took you under her wing, teaching you the more advanced skills. You listened to endless hours of poetry readings from Tolya, and in exchange he offered to teach you how to fight. In fact, most of the crew accepted you readily. In truth, a lot of the men had just been so enthralled by your ethereal beauty that they were half in love with you at first sight, and the fact that you had saved their captain’s life had been enough to endear you to the rest.

All except for one woman, a young Grisha heartrender named Laila who seemed set on hating you no matter how hard you tried to befriend her. Tamar said it was jealousy - Laila wanted to be the captains favourite but he had never shown any interest in her, and now with you around, he likely never would. You tried not to let it bother you, but you were worried that she might sense something was different about you and early one morning she confirmed your fears when she cornered you in the galley, pushing you up against the wall.

“I’m on to you,” she hissed, “you’re hiding something and I’m going to figure out what it is.”

You played it cool, pretending you had no idea what she meant, and though you briefly considered throwing her overboard, you ultimately decided it was too risky. Instead, you did your best to avoid her at all times, at least as much as you could avoid someone living in such close proximity, and you became an expert at hiding in plain sight.

The bond you had formed with Sturmhond as a result of saving his life grew into a fully-fledged friendship, and then, into something sweeter. Over time, you found yourself sharing his bed as well as his company, and once he trusted you enough to reveal his true identity - Nikolai Lantsov, royal spare to the Ravkan throne - you were moved into the captain’s quarters permanently.

You missed Amalia and being on the sea everyday but never in it, was its own special kind of torture, but you had made your choice and you would do it all over again in a heartbeat. You would choose him, always, whatever the cost. So, you vowed never to use your power again, if it only meant you could keep this new life, if it meant you could keep him. But of course, nothing was ever that simple.

You had been on the Volkvolny for almost a year when it finally happened…

The crew were gathered in a loose circle on the lower deck, chatting and sharing several bottles of liquor, relaxing after a long day. You followed Nikolai down the steps to join them and when he took the only empty seat, you didn’t hesitate to drop yourself into his lap. A chorus of wolf whistles and hooting erupted from the crew around you.

“Perverts,” you muttered, giving them the middle finger and they all laughed.

Nikolai looped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You leaned against him, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, content to just be close to him while the crew drank and talked around you. You joined the conversation only when spoken to directly and luckily no one noticed your contemplative mood, as they all got steadily drunker and rowdier as the night went on. At some point, someone started singing a sea shanty and one by one the rest of the crew joined in, happy and loud, and painfully off-key. You smiled and clapped along, but otherwise stayed quiet. Laila was watching you carefully from across the circle.

“You’re not singing,” she said suddenly, and you were sure you weren’t imagining the accusation in her tone.

“Oh, no one wants to hear my singing,” you laughed nervously, waving her off, “honestly I’m terrible.”

She narrowed her eyes at you. “You can’t be that bad. Come on, just sing a few lines,” she pushed.

You shifted uncomfortably on Nikolai’s lap. His hand tightened on your waist, and you knew he was listening. You struggled to think of another excuse. “I- umm…”

“Leave her alone,” Tamar interjected, and you flashed her a grateful smile for coming to your rescue. “She doesn’t have to sing if she doesn’t want to.”

“But she never wants to sing,” Laila muttered petulantly, “don’t you think that’s odd?”

“What’s odd is you insisting she does,” Nikolai said, an unmistakable edge to his voice. “Let it go Laila.”

Laila flushed at the reprimand. She reluctantly fell silent again, but she was glaring at the drink in her hands, her expression murderous. Silence stretched awkwardly for a few seconds, until Tolya thankfully broke it by producing a deck of cards and starting a game.

You declined to play, and as the cards were dealt you turned your attention away. Through the gaps in the railings, you could see the miles of deep blue sea that stretched all the way to the horizon, and you felt a familiar pull, calling you home. You closed your eyes as you inhaled deeply, letting the salty air fill your lungs. Home. You would never be truly at home here, on this ship, and that thought filled you with sadness. You thought of Amalia, and you wondered if she missed you, the way that you missed her.

You were pulled from your reverie by Nikolai shifting beneath you. He leaned over you to throw his cards down on the table, declaring he was bowing out of the game and then he sat back, pulling you further into his lap.

“Everything alright, my love?” He asked quietly, his lips brushing your ear. You pushed away your melancholy, turning your head so you could look at him.

“Yes,” you murmured, and you meant it. You wanted to be here, with him, no matter how much you might miss home.

“Thinking about how absurdly handsome I am?” He waggled his eyebrows at you, and you laughed.

“No, but I was thinking about you,” you admitted, “about how I ended up here.”

“Ah, so you’re thinking about the time you saved my life then. No wonder you looked so serious.”

“Which time?” You mused, teasing him, “There are so many, I think I’ve lost count.”

Nikolai gasped, all faux outrage. “Once.” He insisted, “It was one time.”

“If you say so,” you smiled indulgently as he leaned in to kiss you, slow and deep, his hand cupping your jaw. The whistling and jeering immediately started up again. You pulled away, rolling your eyes at the crew’s antics.

Nikolai sighed. “For Saints sake,” he grumbled, but he sounded more fond than angry.

When you looked up, Laila was glaring at you. She fixed a smile on her face as you met her gaze, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I’ve been thinking,” She said loudly, gaining everyone’s attention, “what exactly happened, the night you joined us? We’ve never heard your side of the story.”

Had she figured it out? You tried to keep your expression as neutral as possible, but you had stared at her for a beat too long, and now everyone was looking at you, waiting for your answer.

“There’s really not much to tell,” you said carefully.

“Don’t be so modest,” Laila said, her smile sharp, “you saved the Captain’s life after all, and I want to hear every detail.”

Your heart pounded. You should have pushed her overboard when you had the chance. As you tried to come up with a plausible story, the ship was suddenly engulfed in a thick fog.

After that, everything happened so quickly that you barely understood it. One moment you were sailing in open water, the night clear and still, and the next, you were dodging gunfire in near blindness, as men appeared from nowhere and swarmed the ship. The crew fought valiantly, but you were outnumbered and outmatched by a pair of the most powerful Grisha you had ever encountered. You had heard rumours about the drug jurda parem, and now it seemed you were seeing it’s effects first hand. All around you was chaos and you couldn’t keep track of anything. Before long, most of your crew were injured and eventually, all of them captured.

The fog dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, and then there was Nikolai - bleeding, gagged and bound - forced to his knees on the deck of his own ship.

A man grabbed you from behind, holding you against his body with an arm around your waist and a hand twisting painfully in your hair. Nikolai tried to call out as he caught sight of you and your captors laughed.

“Looks like we’ve found the captain’s whore,” one of the men chuckled.

The one holding you ran his hand up from your waist to roughly grab at your breast. You held perfectly still, you weren’t going to give these animals the satisfaction of a reaction, but Nikolai struggled against his bonds, and the man standing over him backhanded him hard across the face. He swayed on his knees, the force of the blow almost knocking him over, and blood trickled from the fresh wound at his temple. The men began talking amongst themselves, loudly detailing all the disgusting things they would enjoy doing to you later.

“Don’t worry,” Nikolai’s captor taunted him, “we’ll let you watch.”

Nikolai struggled again, cold rage clear in his eyes as the men laughed. For a brief moment, he managed to get to his feet, but that only gave his captor an excuse to hit him again, and again, until he slumped to the floor, and when you screamed in protest, the men laughed harder, enjoying your misery.

These men were going to die today, you decided, and you would not show them the mercy of a quick death.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and started to sing. At first the men only looked at each other in confusion, but as your melody continued, they gradually fell under your spell, their eyes glazing over. You tried your best to focus only on them, but it wasn’t an exact science, so your crew also felt the effects. Conveniently, they were all bound and so had little chance of hurting themselves.

You concentrated on the Grisha first since they were the biggest threat, followed by the rest of the men. At your instruction, they turned as one, and forming an orderly line, walked to the side of the ship before binding their own hands and feet together. Then they clambered up onto the railing, and one by one, threw themselves into the water, like lemmings leaping off a cliff. You saved the man who had smacked Nikolai for last, and before he jumped, had him stab himself with his own blade several times, just for good measure.

Once the last man entered the water, you stood at the railing, feeling a perverse sense of satisfaction as you watched them trying, and failing, to fight against their bonds in an effort to return to you. You watched each one slowly begin to sink beneath the water, and only once you were sure there would be no chance that any of them might survive, did you stop singing and move away. When it was done, you set about releasing your crew from their bindings and tending to their wounds as best you could. They were groggy from the after-effects of your song, and it took some hours for everyone to fully come around. No one could really remember what had happened, and you pretended not to know either. You could only cross your fingers and hope that no one realized the truth of what you had done.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nikolai was quiet in the aftermath, and though he put up a good front for the rest of the crew, you could tell he was shaken by what had happened. Once everyone was attended to, he announced he was going to his office and he took your hand, pulling you along with him. You followed him to the captain’s quarters in silence.

He let you enter first and you heard the soft click of the lock as he closed the door behind him. You perched yourself on the edge of his desk as you waited for him, but when he turned, he leaned back against the door instead of coming closer. His face was set, his eyes hard, and you knew that he had finally figured out your secret. Honestly, you were surprised it had taken him this long, you had always known it was only a matter of time. You watched him carefully, but you said nothing, waiting for him to speak first.

“You��re a Siren,” he said finally.

You nodded your head in answer, even though he hadn’t phrased it as a question. He stared at you for a long moment, and you could almost hear the cogs turning in his mind, mulling over the many questions he must have. Eventually he seemed to settle on one.

“How many innocent men have you killed?” He asked.

“Innocent?” You huffed, “None.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, “But you have lured men to their deaths, haven’t you?”

“I have.” You conceded. He knew what you were now, there was no reason to lie.

“So? How many?” He pressed. “You must have some idea.” He crossed his arms over his chest, closing himself off to you.

“I didn’t exactly keep a tally,” you muttered.

“Tell me,” He demanded, “Dozens? Hundreds? Thousands?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, suddenly unable to meet his gaze, “I can’t remember them all.”

“Those men had lives and families,” he said, outraged, “they were someone’s father, brother, son, and you don’t even remember them?!”

You felt your own temper beginning to rise and you struggled to keep your voice even. “They were Slavers. Murderers and Pirates. They were the worst kind of men.”

“You don’t know that!” He argued, “What right did you have to judge them?”

“I’m a Siren,” you reminded him, “It’s what I was born to do. I followed them first, watched them, saw what kind of men they were with my own eyes. I only ever took the bad ones.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “So now you expect me to believe Sirens follow some kind of moral code?”

“Not all Sirens, but I expect you to believe that I do.”

“How am I to believe anything you say” he scoffed, “You’ve been lying to me since the day we met.”

“I didn’t lie to you, not really. Everything I told you about myself was true. I just omitted one small detail.”

He laughed, but there was no humour in it. “I think we have a vastly different understanding of the word small,” he muttered, “and a lie by omission is still a lie.”

He wasn’t wrong, but … “You lied to me too, Sturmhond.”

He straightened, no longer leaning against the door, but still kept the distance between you. “That’s hardly the same!” He protested.

“Isn’t it?”

“Not at all,” he huffed, “besides, I told you the truth once I thought I could trust you. Although clearly, I was mistaken.”

“You can trust me,” you insisted. “In case you’ve forgotten, I saved your life - twice. You’re welcome, by the way!”

He didn’t look convinced. “That first night, when you rescued me, were you watching the ship? Just waiting for an opportunity to kill us all?”

“No! I mean, yes - I watched you for a while, but I was never going to lure you. I convinced my sister to let you go,” you rushed, desperately trying to explain, “I promised to stay away from you and in return Amalia agreed that they wouldn’t go after you, if you survived the storm on your own.”

“But we didn’t,” he said, brow furrowed in confusion. “The ship sank and I almost drowned.”

“I remember. I was there when the storm hit. I saw you save the boy who was trapped in the rigging, and when you went under, I came after you.”

“I don’t understand. If you promised to stay away from me then why were you there?” He asked, frown deepening.

“I just needed to be know you would be alright,” you admitted softly, “I wasn’t supposed to help you.”

“I don’t suppose many Sirens would go out of their way to save a man from drowning,” he said, mouth curving into a wry smile.

“No. It goes against their nature. But you decided to act the hero and almost got yourself killed in the process,” you muttered angrily, “so I had to choose, and I chose you, even though I knew my sisters would never forgive me.”

“So, you really did save my life? That was real?”

“Yes. Everything between us has been real for me, I swear it,” you said earnestly, “I gave up everything for you.”

He moved towards you then, coming to stand over you where you were still sitting on the edge of his desk, and you widened your thighs to allow him in between them. He was so close that you had to tilt your head back to look at him. You closed your hands in to fists, fighting the urge to reach for him.

“And tonight?” He asked, “Did you kill those men?”

You could have lied, or pretended not to remember what happened, but you didn’t want there to be anymore secrets between you. “I did,” you confessed, meeting his eyes. You weren’t ashamed of what you had done. “and I would do it again if I had to. They would have killed you.”

“You’re not sorry,” he said, and you wondered if he wanted you to be.You thought about it for a moment, but when you closed your eyes, you could still see him on his knees. No. You weren’t sorry at all.

“They got what they deserved,” you hissed, “and the world is a better place without them in it.”

He gave a short, sharp nod of his head in agreement, and you smiled. Whatever he thought of you, he understood this at least.

“Tell me why,” he said, lifting a hand to brush your hair back from your face. “Why did you save me?”

“Because I love you,” you answered honestly, leaning into his touch when his hand lingered. “I loved you then and I love you now, even if you don’t feel the same.”

He dropped his hand, taking a single step back and you had to stop yourself from swaying forward, chasing the physical connection.

“How do I know that my feelings for you are truly my own? That you’re not influencing me somehow?”

“In what way?”

“I don’t know,” he said, “by using your Siren powers to manipulate me? To seduce me? How do I know you’re not just making me think I’m in love with you.”

“Are you?” You asked hopefully, “In love with me?”

He looked away. “Maybe,” he hedged.

“Well, Siren power doesn’t work that way. My song inspires lust-addled obsession, blind desire, unwavering obedience - not love.”

He stared at you for what felt like an eternity, considering your answer. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he studied you, and suddenly all you could think about was how much you wanted to kiss him.

“Okay.” He said finally. He stepped closer, into your personal space again, but frustratingly kept his hands to himself.

“Okay?”

“Yes. I believe you,” he said, “but you still should have told me. I had the right to know that the woman I’m sleeping with, the woman I fell in love with is a-“

“A monster?” You finished for him. You knew what men thought of creatures like you.

He glared at you. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“That’s not what you were going to say?” You asked, feigning innocence.

“No.” He said firmly.

“Mmm,” you hummed skeptically. “So you’re not afraid of me?”

He blinked at you, as though the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. “Should I be?”

“Well, a little bit couldn’t hurt,” you teased.

He shook his head exasperatedly, but he was smiling now, that perfect crooked smile that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. He put his hands around your waist, finally, pulling you into him and you fisted your hands in his shirt to keep him there. He lowered his head at the same time that you tilted yours up, and your lips ghosted over each other, close enough to share a breath but not quite touching.

“I have one last question,” he said, and you bit back a sigh. For saints sake, what else could he possibly want to know?

“Have you ever used your power to seduce me?”

You squinted at him, trying to decide if he was saying you might need to use your power to seduce him. You felt a flush of annoyance at the suggestion. “No,” you said carefully, “should I?”

He shook his head, no. “I already want you,” he admitted.

“Good,” you smiled, “because I want you too. All the time.”

The corner of his mouth tipped up into a pleased little smirk. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, leaning into him, and this time he kissed you for real, his lips soft but insistent against your own, not pulling away until you were both breathless.

“I’m still angry with you,” he said, when he finally succumbed to the need for air, “for lying to me.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, and you meant it.

“I know,” he said and then he dipped his head to kiss you again.

He brought his hand up to cup your face, the other still gripping your waist as you opened your mouth to him. He took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tangling his tongue with your own and every time you pulled back, he only allowed you to draw a single, ragged breath before he claimed your lips again.

One of his hands ran up your side from your waist, until his thumb grazed the swell of your breast over the thin cotton of your shirt, and you shivered, leaning into his touch. You could feel his growing arousal against your thigh, and you were suddenly overwhelmed by the need to feel his bare skin against your own. You tugged his shirt free from his breeches, pulling it up and off over his head before he could protest.

He immediately slanted his mouth over yours again, as if he couldn’t bear to be parted from you for more than a few seconds, and you let your hands roam over his broad shoulders and chest, before you worked on removing your own shirt. Your fingers slipped over the small buttons, and you growled in frustration, breaking away from his kiss so that you could see what you were doing. He made a sound of irritation, ducking his head to nip lightly at the curve of your neck and you gasped, your shirt momentarily forgotten as you grabbed a fistful of his hair instead. He groaned low in his throat when you pulled him closer rather than pushing him away, and he nipped at you again, teeth grazing your pulse point, this time hard enough to leave a mark. You moaned as his tongue flicked out to sooth the sting and you felt his lips turn up into a self-satisfied smirk against your skin.

When you finally succeeded in unbuttoning your shirt, you reached around your back to unhook your bra and removed that along with it, and then you dropped your hands to the laces of his breeches before he could distract you again. He finally realized your goal then, and began to help, rather than hinder you, pushing his breeches and underwear down to his ankles so that he could kick them away. You stood so that you could do the same and once you were both naked, he lifted you back up, so you were sitting on the edge of his desk again.

You leaned back on your hands, and he dipped his head, capturing one pebbled nipple with his tongue. You arched your back, pushing your breast further into his mouth as his fingers skated along your inner thigh towards your centre. He gave a small grunt of satisfaction when he found you slick and ready for him and you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging him upwards until he released your nipple with a soft pop.

He slipped two fingers inside you easily, and when you clenched around him, he let out a distinctly strangled sound. You met his gaze as you sat up, so you could hook your legs around his thighs, locking your ankles behind his ass to keep him there, and you enjoyed the way his eyes fluttered closed and his breath hitched as his cock settled between your thighs, so close to where you wanted him. You tilted your hips up, and he took the hint, guiding himself into place and filling you completely with one quick, hard thrust that had you crying out.

You clutched at him desperately, barely able to do anything but hold on as he set a punishing pace, driving his hips forward fast and hard, only to retreat, again, and again, until you were both panting. His hands gripped your hips so hard that you knew there would be finger shaped bruises there tomorrow. The desk creaked loudly, almost drowning out your mutual sounds of pleasure, the sturdy wooden frame rocking beneath you with the force of his thrusts.

His face was buried in your neck, and you tugged impatiently on his hair as you felt the first tendrils of your impending orgasm began to creep up your spine, until he lifted his head so that you could capture his mouth with yours. He slipped his hand between your bodies as he felt you tightening around him, his clever fingers finding your clit and tipping you over the edge into climax with just a few precise movements. You cried out his name, convulsing around him as you came, your hand tightening in his hair so hard that it must have been painful, and you felt his rhythm falter. He thrust harder, pushing as deep as he could possibly go, once, twice, three times, then he stilled and shuddered, spilling himself inside you.

You all but collapsed against each other, both boneless and breathing heavily in the aftermath of your orgasms. He was the first to recover, and he pressed a sloppy kiss to your temple as he straightened, retreating from your body. He moved over to the basin near the bed, dipping a clean cloth into the water and wringing it out before returning. His hands were gentle, in stark contrast to how rough he had been minutes before and you tried not to wince as he carefully cleaned away the sticky remnants of your shared release, but his observant eyes caught it anyway. He pressed a finger under your chin to gently tilt your head up.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, face creased in concern.

“No,” you answered, much too quickly.

He raised his eyebrows at you, his expression disbelieving.

“I’m a little bit sore,” you reluctantly admitted.

His face dropped into a scowl, and you knew he was angry at himself for being so rough with you.

“I’m ok,” you assured him, brushing your fingers across his forehead to smooth away his frown.

He searched your face, looking for any sign that you might not be telling the truth and you met his gaze, your expression loving and completely open. He rested his forehead against yours, peering down at you through his lashes.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said after a moment, and you knew he wasn’t just talking about right now.

“Never again,” you promised.

“Okay.” He said softly.

He leaned in to kiss you, sweet and chaste, just a slow glide of his lips over yours before pulling back to slide one arm underneath you and the other around your back. You squealed as he scooped you up, bridal style, so that he could carry you over to the bed. He pulled back the covers with one hand and then lowered you down and crawled in beside you, immediately curling his body around you.

You tried to relax into his embrace, but you couldn’t, not when there was still so much you needed to talk about. You were afraid to bring it up, too scared to hear him say that this was the last time you could be together, so you waited until his breathing began to even out and he was almost asleep before you forced yourself to speak.

“What happens now?” You asked quietly.

“Huh?” He mumbled sleepily.

“With us,” you elaborated, “do you want me to leave?”

“What? No.” He said, suddenly sounding much more alert, “Of course not.”

He rolled on to his back and you turned to face him, propping yourself up on your elbow so that you could look at him.

“What will you tell the crew?”

“Nothing,” he said simply, and though you should have been relieved, you only felt more anxious.

“But Laila is already suspicious,” you pointed out, “and Tolya and Tamar are too sharp not to figure it out eventually.”

“Then we’ll tell them the truth.”

“They won’t want me on this ship when they find out what I am, Nikolai.”

“Last time I checked, I was the captain,” he smirked, “I decide who I do, and don’t allow on my own ship.”

“Don’t be stupid, it doesn’t suit you,” you grumbled, “You’ll end up with a mutiny on your hands.”

“Then we’ll leave,” he said easily, as if it was the most obvious solution.

“Leave?” You repeated, not sure you had understood.

He shrugged, seemingly completely unbothered by the idea. “I was always going to have to go home eventually.”

“You can’t just leave. You love this ship!” You protested.

“I do,” he said, turning on his side so that you were face to face, “but I love you more. It’s my turn to give something up. If it comes down to it, I’ll choose you, always.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. Hadn’t you just been thinking that very same thought earlier? He leaned in to kiss you, slow and achingly sweet, and all of your protests died on your tongue. He nudged you gently to turn over, pulling you back against him and wrapping his arm around you, so that you could be the little spoon as you finally went to sleep.

#nikolai lantsov #grishaverse #shadow and bone #nikolai lanstov x reader #smut #my writing #i wrote this #patrick gibson #i love him so much #zoya is my queen but not in this fic

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