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russellsppttemplates · 3 months

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Sharing is caring (George Russell)

A long weekend with the Russells

Note: english is not my first language. I know this is very very very overdue, but hopefully it's still enjoyable!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: pregnancy

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Are you guys doing well back there?", you asked the kids as George drove the four of you up to his parents' house. According to the screen display, you still had a little over an hour until you arrived at George's parents house where you would be staying for the long weekend to enjoy some family time before the season picked up again.

"Does anyone need a bathroom break?", George asked, looking at Olivia and Arthur through the rear view mirror, "I'm fine", Olivia chirped in, "me too, I'm okay", Arthur added.

"You're doing okay, too?", George asked you, hand on your thigh as he drove, "I'm fine. I never want to say it too loud, but I think morning sickness stopped two weeks ago", you added.

"Little one has had enough causing raucous", George whispered, turning his attention back to the road ahead.

"We're nearly there, right, daddy?", Arthur asked as he recognised the streets as the car approached his grandparents' house, "yes, we just turn here and at the end there", George replied as you texted your mother in-law, letting her know to open the big gate so no one had to get out of the car.

"Guys, you're here! Did you have a good trip?", Allison welcomed you into the house, hugging the kids who immediately ran and hugged her legs, "grandma!!", they excitedly said.

"We did, it was fine. There was a little traffic at the end, but we were so close I think it barely bothered us", you said as you greeted Steve, walking inside the house and making sure the kids left their shoes by the door.

"I'm going to take the bags upstairs", George said, kissing your forehead, "I'll be right back", he smiled as you ushered Olivia and Arthur to the bathroom, "Y/N, here, darling, our some slippers on!", Allison offered.

Since Allison and Steve lived on their own again, as every child had now fled the nest, they updated the bedrooms, you and George staying in the guest bedroom with a double bed and the kids occupying the room they had for whenever the grandchildren stayed over.

"Lunch is ready, so when you can come down, we're waiting for you", George's mother called him as he helped you sort out the room for your children, "we'll be down in a little, thanks!".

After eating and helping tidying the kitchen, George took the kids out to the garden, hoping to use up their energy since they spent the whole morning inside a car.

"Is the swing alright, dad?", George questioned, "yes, me and Benjy sorted it out a few weeks ago. It's good as new", he answered, prompting George to take the kids to the renovated swing set.

When he was younger, he didn't spend too much time at home since racing required him to spend a lot of time away, but the times he did spend back home were filled with memories os this swing.

"Is this the old swing you told us about?", Arthur said, unsure of the whole apparatus since he heard stories from when his father and his uncle and aunt were much younger.

"Yes, me and uncle Benjy used to spend a lot of time here with auntie Cara, too! Who wants to go first?", he said as Olivia volunteered.

"It's safe, Arthur, see?", she said as she balanced her body back and forth, making her brother feel a little more comfortable with the whole thing, "I'll share it with you later, okay?".

"Sharing is important", George began, "and the fact that you guys always share is very nice, me and mummy are very proud of you", he said as Arthur picked some flowers from the grass and gave some to Olivia.

"We're siblings, of course we share everything", Arthur said naturally. It was true. For him, even if Olivia picked on his buttons a few times, he wouldn't ever not want to share something with her.

"Would you want to share your things with somebody else?", George tried as the kiss both looked at him like they didn't know what he was on about, "what I means is, would you mind having to share your things with someone else?", he clarified.

The pregnancy news were still between you and George, excluding your doctor. Because the kids could easily spill the news to somebody else and you had been specially careful so the news would stay between the people you wanted to until the doctor considered it was okay.

"I always share with my friends, too. But yesterday I had all the grapes mummy cut up for me because they were really good and I really wanted them", Arthur admitted as Olivia quirked a brow, "I think we could, yes. Even our toys, we share them too", Olivia added.

George seemed satisfied enough with the answers, hoping that when you broke the news they wouldn't have a complete meltdown.

"C'mon, Liv, it's Arthur's turn", George requested gently, the girl hopping off so her brother could have a go.

"What is mummy doing?", your son asked, "she was helping grandma with tonight's dinner when I asked if she wanted to come with us", George offered.

When they arrived back in time to have a quick shower and get ready for family dinner, you and George dressed them in comfortable clothes since it was just close family. Once they started arriving, the kids found their spot on the floor of the living room, playing with toys and colouring books while the adults caught up with eachother.

"Y/N! I haven't seen you in so long!", Cara said as she came up to you for a hug, "we've been busy, but we managed to sort some time out to come up here", you smiled, offering her the little pastries you had been working on with your mother in-law, "these are delicious!".

Excusing yourself from the group, you went to check on the kids, sitting on the sofa and getting a few cuddles from your nieces and nephews, "auntie Y/N!", one of them gasped, "you almost fell asleep while I was showing you my drawing", he said as Arthur snickered, "I'm sorry, sweetheart, you can show me again, please", you offered, rubbing the sleep away from your eyes.

"Darling, do you want some wine? We found your favourite in the shops the other day, Steve bought a couple of bottles", your mother in-law smiled as she stretched her arm to receive your glass when you were all in the dining room, "I don't, thank you for thinking of me, though", you smiled, exchanging a look with George that wasn't missed by his sister.

"I saw that!", Cara pointed out, "what was that?!", she questioned her brother, knowing he would break under her stare.

"Y/N has something to tell you", he quickly offered, passing the ball to your court as you felt everyone's eyes on you.

"This is not how it was supposed to go, but there wasn't a proper plan either, so... we are having a baby!", you announced, unfolding your leggings and letting your small baby bump show.

"Oh my goodness, another baby!", Allison cooed as your children looked at George for confirmation, "you're going to have a little brother, guys!", he said as they ran to hug you baby bump.

"I noticed your tummy was bigger, but I just thought you had a big lunch!", Arthur said, delighting everyone as they laughed, George watching everyone congratulate you before also congratulating him, "congratulations, darling", his mother kissed his cheek.

"We've been a little more careful this time around, did all the tests and in the blood test, the doctor told us were having a little boy", you smiled, kissing the top of your kids' heads as they latched onto your sides.

"Well, we can celebrate with the wine still! Some juice for you, Y/N", Steve poured in your cup.

When it came to bedtime, the kids didn't want to sleep in a separate room from you, and since the bed was big enough, you allowed them to sleep with you and George.

"That's what I'm saying, guys. It doesn't mean mummy is sick, but it means she needs our help more, she won't be able to do all things at once and it's our job to make sure she rests, as well", you heard your husband tell the kids while you brushed your teeth in the en suite bathroom.

"Time for sleep, kids", you said, lying down on the mattress, you and George brushing each of their hairs as they switched off, almost like a button, "they used up all their energy today", George began, "Did you know these two were wondering how they could help you, because they were worried that you are tired. You even fell asleep on the sofa..!", George tried his best to mimick his nephew shocked expression, earning one of your beautiful laughs.

"I love them so much", you sighed, "and I love you", you kissed his lips.

Kissing your forehead, George's hand managed to reach your bump despite the little boy latching on you like a koala and your daughter lying on top of him, drawing random shapes on it, "not as much as I love all of you".

#george russell imagine #george russell fanfic #george russell x reader #george russell fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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saintescuderia · 16 days

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pancakes (pt. 6)

AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.

series masterlist here :) / antinal reference ;)

A/N: to make up for being MIA (and that this sunday might be another miss) here's a double update. enjoy.

P6 - pre-workout for jet-lag

You still found it odd to call Australia home.

You had mixed feelings about the country stamped across the front page of your passport. Your auntie had been the one to organise the papers so that Australian would be your identification. Never mind the hospital bed in Monaco that you were birthed. Or that you were first words were in Arabic.

Still, your travelling auntie’s own experiences meant that when you came into her care, she would raise you Australian. Never mind any of the other stuff.

So, when you walked into the house in Melbourne, you were met with an Egyptian lady playing French music, dressed in a Korean football jersey, cooking Greek food. Such was the life of a nomadic English teacher that was your aunt Nadia. Dia for short.

“Ah, it's you." She sat, spying you hauling the suitcase through the door. She looked at the clock by the fridge and then frowned. "You weren't supposed to land yet."

"I landed an hour ago." You said. She looked at the clock again and took it off the fridge. She banged it with one hand and then shook her head, muttering under breath.

"I'm sorry. Did you take an Uber?"

"No. Oscar gave me a lift." Well, technically his father had driven the car.

Oscar’s parents were apparently super excited to meet you and gushed all through the way about how glad they were that their son had you to help him through F1. They had even insisted on dinner but Oscar knew you had stayed up - you had made him do the same thing as you - and thankfully postponed it for a breakfast tomorrow after you both got to finally got to sleep.

Upon leaving Jeddah, you had looked at the flight times and decided to overdose the 400mg of pre-workout and strategically placeyour workout just before leaving the hotel so that you and Oscar could both avoid the jet-lag many other F1 personnel were struggling with.

So far, it was on track to working. You just needed to push through a few more hours. To do so, Oscar was going to watch the footy. You were going to watch football.

“Ah, this young Oscar." Your aunt was nodding. "I like him. He has a trusting face.” She laughed at you, doing nothing to help but continue to watch you clamber into the well-loved and mis-matched dining furniture in her kitchen. “You hungry?”

“Tired.” You said, checking the time. It was 5pm but you were ready to knock out. Just a few more hours. You willed yourself to push through and avoid the jet-lag.

“Did you eat?”

You hadn’t. You never ate airplane food.

The silence was answer enough as your auntie plated up some gyros for you. The smells of the seasoned meat filled your nose and your stomach rumbled at the site of it. You picked up your fork, ignoring the bread for the sake of your cut but helping yourself to tzatziki.

"What's with the Korean jersey." You couldn't help but ask. You watched your auntie's back with CHO GUE-SUNG.

"Oh, he's such a handsome man. So polite too. I met him when I was teaching abroad in Seoul."

You opened your mouth but closed it. Your auntie lived a very unbelievable life at the best of times.

"He was nice. Nice face. Good hair. You should date him." Dia said as if she was commenting about the weather and you rolled your eyes, chewing through the food. She gave you a look. "Better a footballer than a driver."

You gave her a look. She never did like Danny. Much less you two together.

"Speaking of footballers, your uncle called. Went on and on in Italian about how your talents are wasted with cars and you should come to a real sport."

You snorted hearing this. Your uncle's work in football (not soccer, football) and your line of expertise had some people baffled that you hadn't joined him. Only the select few who knew your mother understood just why that was.

Still, every month your uncle sighed at the wasted talent! that you, a world class performance trainer! was stuck making coffee! for some fancy drivers!

Save that your uncle would add in a few choice Italian expletives in the mix.

"So, the usual?" You concluded.

"The usual." Dia nodded. She came to sit down in front of you. Pulling out her phone, she began showing you pictures of her recent teaching stint in South Korea. Your aunt had been there for about six months, working at an international school. And befriending Korean football players apparently.

“I thought you were teaching in Paris.” You said between mouthfuls of seasoned meat.

“That was before.” Dia waved a dismissive hand. She dropped her phone and then stood up to pull out two wine glasses. Your aunt gave you a look and you shook your head. She put one back with a roll of her eye. “Wine is good for you.”

“I’m already taking resveratrol.” You said. “And I’m on a cut.”

“That’s why no bread.” Dialooked down at the plate full of untouched pita bread. She was well aware of your health habits. “Actually, I went to Egypt recently! Ah!” She went to the cupboard above the microwave and pulled out a shoebox full of small boxes. You knew immediately what it was. Bringing the shoebox to the table, Dia began pulling out various medicines she had brought from Egypt.

“You will need this for your travels.”

“I have all of this.”

“Do you have Antinal?”

“Yes.”

“Take some extra." Dia still pushed it to you. "Give it to Charles.”

“I don’t speak to Charles.” You said.

Your aunt huffed and looked up at the ceiling, calling to God. “Ya rab. This fight with Charles needs to stop. Pascale and I are sick of it.” You didn’t comment any further on it. It was, admittedly, quite hard when there were so many other people involved. Pascale and Nadia were best friends. It was how you and Charles had grown up so close. The fact that you were family friends made it hard since Charles had pretty much cut you off. Granted, he was polite and you knew he still greeted your aunt Dia with a kiss on each cheek every time she’d visited Monaco. But still.

“I will give them to Charles.” She said, taking a box back.

“You do that.” You said as she still pushed one boxes of the yellow medicine in front of you. “Dia, I already have this.”

“For Oscar. Yallah.”

“Anti-diarrhoea pills?"

"Oi, mate. You better be grateful. That shit's a miracle." You said, dropping the yellow box in Oscar's hands as you both walked down the Paddock. You had checked your phone this morning to the beautiful news that you would be working for McLaren today. You texted Oscar the news and the next day he had your coffee order ready in the cupholder of the car he picked up you up in.

It didn't feel odd. It should've, but it didn't. Maybe it was because you and Oscar had already spent the most of the morning together. You had breakfast with his parents - his dad taking a moment to quietly pull you aside to say thank you for supporting Oscar - and then hit a gym sesh.

In fact, you almost forgot that you and Oscar was supposed to be working in different domains until you both had to get dressed and found him waiting for you outside the Paddock dressed in shorts, a McLaren t-shirt and accompanying brand cap.

It made you look down at your black Hospitality wear and wonder just how things would go if you were wearing the same clothes as him.

Well, for one thing, you would have to wear those ugly ass shoes. You looked down at your feet clad in some Nike Cortez and tried to take that as consolation. You weren't dressed in team uniform but at least that meant you had your shoes.

Still, the oddity of seeing a driver openly interact with the Hospitality staff turned some head as you walked down the Paddock together. You were half tempted to tell Oscar to go ahead but it didn't make sense. You were both going to the same place - the McLaren motorhome.

Oscar, however, was barely paying attention to any of this. No, his attention was still stuck on the medicine you had given him.

"Why do I need," He paused and flipped the box over to read the label that was in English, "Antinal?"

"Because you're travelling around the world more now that you're in F1 and have an additional ten or so race weekends added to your calendar." You explained as Oscar read what minimal English was on the medicine box "And so you're gonna be trying a lot more foreign food. Gotta be prepared, man." You patted him on the shoulders as a form of consolation. Oscar just laughed.

"I must say, when you texted me that you had got me something, I didn't think it would be this."

"Technically my auntie did." You said before explaining how you would probably needed to purchase another 23kg suitcase from all the things your aunty was adamant you have with you for the rest of the season. Oscar was laughing at the five packets of sunflower seeds your aunt thought was an essential when you clocked it.

Or, better yet, them. Charles and Carlos.

Both staring at you. And Oscar.

You felt a jolt rush through you realised. Oscar's latest girlfriend update went to background noise as you took in the two Ferrari drivers stood there.

Carlos was appraising, his head slightly tilted as he clearly was observing the two of you. You could only imagine what he noted.

You. Oscar. Laughter. Gift exchanged. Mention of relatives and close family.

Still, the kind Spaniard's eyes were a lot easy to take in than Charles.

Charles who was clearly fuming.

Or, clearly to you. You knew his angry tells. Right fist clenches then unfurls. Left hand runs through hair. Lips are pursed. And then he walks off.

You watched as Charles said something to Carlos and then turned around to stalk off. You watched his retreating form with forlorn eyes and before you caught Carlos looking at you. The furrow between your brows where you had probably stared longingly after the best friend who left you in the dust immediately fell when you looked at Carlos.

That was the first time that Charles was actually acknowledging your existence in how long.

You drew your eyes back to Carlos who was still looking at you. You smiled you found yourself even lifting up a hand to wave. You saw his eyebrows raise slightly and his lips lift into a smile. He waved back. Then someone called his name and you saw his cousin and manager appear from the Ferrari motorhome. You turned back to look at Oscar who was still talking, unaware of anything that happened in the past minute.

"... anyway Lily wants to meet you and - "

"Have you copped any shit?" You interrupted Oscar and turned to him. You had both neared the McLaren Motorhome and knew this would be where you both parted ways.

"Copped shit from who?"

"Other drivers." You specified.

"I mean I haven't really had a chance to speak with them." Oscar said, pursing his lips as if he thought about it. "The Williams guys are nice. Alex is funny."

"Alex is funny." You agreed. You did like Alex. He had a good heart. You would forever be salty at what Red Bull did to him.

"Lewis said hello, which was nice. Fernando reminded me his career is older than me." You couldn't help but snort at that. Oh, Nando.

"And Lando is... well, Lando." You perfectly understood just what Oscar meant by that. His words, however, also confirmed what you had suspected. None of the 'core' drivers that surrounded Ferrari or Red Bull's circles had come near him. You knew that many of the guys had gone out a few times to celebrate the start of the season and the fact that Oscar had very clearly not been invited was, well, getting to you.

Especially since you were 99.9% sure you were the reason why.

You stared at the young Australian boy in front of you and felt two things wash over you.

The first was sadness.

A lame word but there was no other way to describe it. Infuriated, annoyed, hurt - sure. But you were also just sad. Sad that this was your life and that anyone close to you still managed to get tainted by the things you were forced to lug around yourself.

The second was fondness.

The boy was young and innocent but carried himself with wisdom and dignity beyond his mere 20 years. And his dry ass sarcasm was a special type of humour you missed having around you. He was caring, loyal and an overall good sport. Having Oscar around made you realise how long it has been since you've laughed. He drove you the airport, bought you food and stayed up to watch old FRIENDS reruns after finding out Daniel Ricciardo had cornered you in the gym.

"Your love language is quality time." Was his reasoning when he had arrived at your hotel room. And so he ordered some KFC and got comfortable in your hotel room to watch Chandler and Joey forget Ross' baby on a bus. You knew Oscar didn't like sit-coms -- it was a recurring argument -- but he watched five episodes that night after you had texted him feeling panicked and needing help when Daniel arrived drunk at the gym.

In short, in that moment, you were suddenly hyperaware of how much you really, really, really fucking loved Oscar Piastri.

So maybe that's why you just came out with it.

"Jos Verstappen has a restraining order against me."

Oscar blinked. Once. Twice. Clearly he wasn't expecting you to say that. You weren't even expecting you to really say it.

"Come again?"

"Well his wife does." You corrected. "Because the courts wouldn't accept a man of his size him to need protection from little old me." You rubbed your arm, feeling the full vulnerability of what you were doing. You thought of your next words carefully, making sure to not step over the NDA you had signed. "I used to train Max when he was at Torro Rosso and then at Red Bull. I always saw bruises on his arms. One day I..." you huffed, hating that you legally couldn't say what had actually happened. "Well, I ended up beating Jos Verstappen half to death."

Oscar was silent. His face was void of much reaction. He wasn't even looking you in the face but staring at the ground in his pensive state. You were aware that you both had stopped walking and were stood to the side.

"Is that why you don't officially work as a trainer and had to be all pedantic with training me?" All you could do was nod to his question. Oscar shook his head. "I mean, I've heard the stories about Max and his dad but..."

Now it was your turn to blink. Once. Twice. You frowned and Oscar finally met your eyes and you were stunned to see the easy going grin on his face once more. It hadn't disappeared. "I can only guess you had to sign an NDA and this isn't the full story. And even if it is, well, it's enough to know you were protecting someone from a -- well, an abuser."

"I... Yeah. Thanks." You weren't sure what you were thanking him for. For believing you? For not treating you differently? For taking your side when everyone in Formula 1 had dropped you and treated you like a leper?

"Is that why you and Ricciardo fell through?" Oscar asked. It wasn't nosy. You had explained enough to him. It was enough he knew what happened.

"No Danny, he, uh-." You hated how small your voice sounded. Or that you immediately fell back to his nickname. "He cheated."

Oscar was silent, waiting for you to continue. And so you did so. You told him everything. From Daniel to Charles to the moment you punched Jos Verstappen in the face.

Carlos Sainz was ready to punch someone in the face.

He sat there at the table, fist curled tight as he tried to calm down from all that he was hearing. It seems like his name would only be an added tag to an otherwise Charles Leclerc fest of a season. Carlos knew, sure, that coming into a Ferrari where his teammate was known as Il Predestinato would mean that he needed to prove himself, put himself in the spotlight and make the Tifosi give him a name like that.

However, as the current race strategy meeting was showing, it seemed like no one in Ferrari was going to give Carlos the chance.

"Now, boys, I have something to discuss with you two." Fred said as people were starting to leave and the meeting seemingly coming to an end. Carlos wanted nothing more than to get up and storm off but he reigned it and listened to the change in Fred's tone.

"What's up?" Charles asked, sitting up.

"Quietly, there was a team principal meeting with Domenicali." Fred said, and this time Carlos sat up also. His anger was momentarily forgotten as his interest piqued. "McLaren have unofficially started working with a girl to train their rookie." Charles was playing with his APM Monaco bracelets, somewhat paying attention. Carlos watched him. There was one particular bracelet he always fiddled with, a small gold chain tucked amidst all the other extravagant pieces.

"She's a Hospitality worker."

Carlos saw how Charles froze. His teammate looked up. Carlos saw the horrified look on his face.

"Quoi?" The French slip was only further proof of something. Carlos's mind raced to make the connection.

The lighbulb went off just before Fred said it.

"She was your friend, non?" Fred said. "Worked with Max Verstappen in Torro Rosso." His eyes flickering over to Carlos. They had been teammates back then.

Charles's years and years of media training went out the window as he struggled to make sense of what he was hearing. Carlos, however, was suddenly thrown back a few years and thinking about just who had caused this whole shitstorm.

You.

Carlos said your name, feeling something swell up in him by saying your name in front of Charles who was your former best friend. Maybe it was ego from the recent meeting, but Carlo wanted to drive the knife in a little deeper.

"She's a very good trainer. I watched her sessions with Verstappen." And that wasn't on showing up Charles; it was the truth. Max's dominance needed to be at least somewhat accredited to you.

"Turns out she is not allowed to work for new teams." Fred spoke. "That means for McLaren to hire her goes against some contract Formula 1 put in place after an incident with Verstappen."

There was a pause. Carlos waited for Charles to say something - to say it. He didn't. So Carlos did.

"She was defending Max." Carlos said, defending you when he thought the silent Monacoan beside him would've. Didn't you two grow up together?

The Verstappen Incident, Carlos was well aware of. However, whatever happened between you and Charles... well, Carlos was out of the loop.

"It doesn't matter." Fred waved. "I'm not here to speak of the drama. But I did have a look. Mattia never told me but she has ties with Ferrari from before - "

"But she's a Hospitality worker!" Charles finally spoke up. "Mattia he-- I spoke to him about her."

"You did?" Fred took that piece in. Carlos wanted to scoff. Clearly Mattia hadn't mentioned that in the hand over notes. "What did Mattia say?" Fred asked.

"Peut-être on peut parler juste nous deux." Charles said, the switch the French reigniting Carlos' anger once more. He forced himself to breathe steadily while Fred nodded. Both men had often tried to keep to English in front of him for the sake of manners and being polite, as opposed to using their mother tongue and making Carlos feel, well, like he felt now. Excluded. Enraged.

Still, Carlos' French skills were okay enough for understand what Charles had said. He stood up and, in French, said. "I'll leave you two." Without looking back, he walked out the motorhome trying to steel himself.

He really wanted to punch something.

Walking a little ways down the Paddock, he took deep breaths and shot a flurry of texts to his dad. He needed his advice on what to do given the way the meeting had gone. It was then that a girl on rollerblades holding the Australian flag zoomed past him and Carlos looked up.

The entertainment at Albert Park never missed. Carlos smiled slightly. Australia was a fun circuit. Not his favourite track by any means but the actual circuit itself had a lot going on that he enjoyed. It was lively, music always pumping and the weather was nice.

Still, the sounds of laughter and the faint dance music that echoed through the Paddock weren't enough to lift his spirits.

And then he saw you.

You were walking with Lando's new teammate, the infamous Oscar something. He hadn't paid much attention to the newbie, hearing something vaguely about Alpine drama from Lando. It all had gone in one ear and out the other.

Now, Carlos saw you walking with him and suddenly he wished he knew more about the kid. Why him? Why were you friends with him? Since when did you have friends? And why risk it all just to train him?

Carlos had always been perfectly polite, nice. Why didn't you laugh with him? Why didn't you reach into your bag to pull out a small box and hand to him as you explained him whatever gift you had brought him? What made this Oscar kid so lucky?

Maybe it was just the Australians seeking out one another? Everyone on the Grid knew you had dated Ricciardo. That had been a painful experience. It was one thing to have pined after you, as Max his teammate's trainer. It was another to see you get swept off your feet by the senior Red Bull driver that everyone adored. Carlos' days at Red Bull sucked since all he did was think about you - and you barely paid him any attention.

Sure, he was now no longer Ricciardo's junior but it still got to him. Daniel Ricciardo had waltzed in and you had gone wide-eyed before Carlos could've even tried.

Because he would've. He really would've. Even before his dad told him who your uncle was. Even before he tried your cooking, your coffee. Even before he knew your name. A young Carlos Sainz had seen a pretty girl walking around in the same Real Madrid kit that he owned at home and immediately wanted to go up to her, to ask her name, to ask her out.

Carlos felt the door behind him open and out came Charles. He looked completely at ease despite what had occurred before. He patted Carlos on the shoulder. And just as he did that, Carlos' phone beeped. His father.

Don't get mad. Just get even on the track.

Carlos pocketed his phone but felt something ignite inside him. He would do that. It wasn't Charles' fault for Ferrari's favouritism. Carlos had to admit the Monégasque was a genuinely nice guy.

"You alright, mate?" Charles asked. "I'm really sorry about before."

"I'm alright. Excited for the race." Carlos said, changing the subject and not mentioning it at all. If anything, he would stay out if it all and just focus on the race, on proving everyone wrong. He take his father's advice and make his own mark in this team.

"Ah, Australia is always special." Charles said.

Despite what his father had said, anger came back within Carlos. It was the same anger he felt towards that Australian kid. And Daniel Ricciardo. And, to an extent, Max.

Carlos was jealous. Not for Charles' favouritism from Ferrari, but the favouritism from you. Charles had you and he'd thrown you out for whatever reason.

Carlos' eyes came back to you and suddenly he couldn't help himself. Sure, he could stay out of all the Ferrari drama but this was you. He couldn't stay out of it when you were right there, walking beside the new kid who didn't know that Charles had essentially banned every driver from interacting with you.

"Yeah?" Carlos spoke before he even realised. "What's so special about Australia?"

The answer was obvious: you.

You were what had been so special. Carlos' days at Torro Rosso meant that he knew about how you felt towards Albert Park, that it was almost like your home race.

For one, you didn't stay at the Crown Casino hotel like the rest of them. No, instead you stayed at your auntie's place by the beach. Carlos knew that from the time he had to drive a passed out Max Verstappen to said home back in 2017.

Charles' smile dropped slightly. Then he brought it back up. "Ah, you know. The sun, the people. There is a special energy here that - "

He stopped talking.

Carlos knew that his teammate had finally spotted you also. Turning his head to look over at Charles, Carlos took in the look of utter rage on his teammate's face.

And then, you looked up. You noticed him. Them. You met his eyes and then you looked at Charles. The McLaren driver was still talking beside you, oblivious to how you had clearly stopped listening to him. Charles took a deep breath.

He stormed off.

Carlos couldn't help but roll his eyes. He didn't know the truth, but Carlos had heard the many rumours as to why Charles had cut you off. He thought they were all rubbish.

Looking back at you, Carlos met your eyes once more and he thought about his options.

He knew that you were in part responsible for training one of the best drivers on the grid. He also knew that it would take a bit of a miracle to help him outperform Charles Leclerc and show Ferrari what was what.

But hey, if this Oscar kid was going to go against the grid's treasured and unspoken rule, why couldn't he?

You really jinxed yourself.

At first, the Australian Grand Prix was off to a great start. Sleeping at home meant that you had more comfortable waking in a bed that was familiar - and not stuck in some isolating three star hotel room that made you question the hotel rating system.

Three stars with suspicious smells coming from the closet? No, thank you.

Instead, you got to wake up to your auntie humming as she prepared her own version of pancakes. It had been a long time since anyone had made pancakes for you. And even though you had breakfast plans with Oscar and his family, you still ate some of her and kissed her goodbye as you went to the circuit.

By car. You drove yourself. In your beloved Supra, the one that had essentially taught you everything you knew about cars (that and Top Gear) were finally united.

And that in itself was a beautiful fucking thing.

There were a small handful of circuits in where you had a car in the country and could actually drive yourself. Australia was one of them. Japan was another. Monaco was the other.

Then again, Monaco was far too crazy to be driving during a race weekend anyway. Still, it was nice to be able to play some calming lo-fi beats as you drove the familiar Lakeside Drive that led up to the street circuit that was built around the lake. Your lake.

You had found yourself a good parking spot and the cafe vendor recognised you and gave you a free latte. Some marshalls walking by were joking about something nonsensical but the banter and accent made you feel warm inside. No matter the complicated feelings that being Australian brought up, you still enjoyed the laid-back attitudes that came with the softened ds and ts.

You had a good gym session, showing progress with your training. You dropped another kilogram off with the cut working well and then you were ready to go to the safe confined of the McLaren motorhome.

And then you saw the message from your co-worker.

Sorry bro. There's been a change in the roster because Mack called in sick. You're going to be covering him at Ferrari for the rest of the race weekend.

You really had jinxed yourself.

taglist: @eugene-emt-roe@spookystitchery@vicurious28@taytaylala12@c-losur3 @hiireadstuff @samantha-chicago @fionaschicken @casperlikej @bookstore-of-dreams @itsjustkhaos@sam-is-lost @laneyspaulding19@formula1mount @bokutos-babyowl @stampiej @alilcloudy @bingussthirdtoe @sisinever @lilymurphy03 @inlovewmarlenemckinnon

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qvnthesia · 1 month

Text

Another You (.02)

an anakin skywalker/jedi consular!reader fic set during the clone wars

the pitch: best friends with anakin since he had joined the jedi order, you hadn’t expected to catch feelings for him, not that hard, at least. his intentions were clear — his heart already enraptured by the nubian senator, leaving you to ruminate about the prospect of letting go of not just him, but maybe everything. until another anakin shows up, and your — your universe’s anakin starts behaving strangely.

A/N: happy birthday, @kaizsche! i hope you enjoy this update!! a note to all readers — there’s no y/n here, the reader’s nickname for the fic is sky. happy reading!

part two— you're not helping.

word count: 7,042

part one | two (here) | ....

Simply put, Aayla Secura was enjoying this. Restraining herself with absolute failure from bursting into fits of laughter, Aayla watched as even the most experienced of Jedi masters drop their caf or just stare with their jaws dropped, t h u n d e r s t r u c k, at Anakin and his double — the long-haired Anakin — walking side-by-side with Master Kenobi being the only one who separated Anakin from thoroughly sizing up his copy, who simply viewed his new-found sights with a twinkling gaze and an even more unbothered attitude.

“Is it just me—” Aayla leans next to your figure, her eyes fixated on the live footage from the Jedi Temple’s security feed. “—or is our new guest having a wind machine around him? Because you humans could take some hair care tips from him.”

You scowl, elbows propped up on the desk, as you watch the footage behind your intertwined fingers held together as tightly as your frown.

“Relax, Sky,” Aayla props an elbow on your stiff shoulder, “He gives off a good vibe. And plus, he’s definitely more attractive than—”

“Aayla!”

The agile Twi’lek proves herself as one of the best the Jedi Order has to offer as she flicks on the live footage faster than your attempts to take it away from her.

“Mon amie, this is literally out of a holo drama!” she giggles, switching off the footage under your sharp gaze. “It’s a sign from the Force itself to take your leap and get your man, or in this case, one version of the man!”

“Aayla, he belongs to another universe—”

“And you’re saying you haven’t been attracted to him?”

You freeze, and Aayla smiles.

Twi’leks weren’t humans, but were sure as hell kriffing good with their senses, so Aayla knew you were lying, and how much she was going to enjoy the day ahead.

Maker, why did I go for this job?

You silenced your mind — there’s a member of the kriffing Jedi Council in the same room as you and you’d feel much more comfortable knowing Master Kenobi had a visual on his enemies rather than the six hundred scenarios of you and Anakin in your mind.

Instead, you focused on your datapad, tapping on six different squares as Anakin answered your questions.

“—Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight, aged twenty-one Galactic Standard. Commanding officer of the Five Hundred and First Legion—”

“Currently on leave,” Master Kenobi remarked, stroking his beard.

“Yeah, but still, Obi-Wan, come on—”

“You’re really Anakin?”

You perked up at Ahsoka’s voice, who munched on a ronto wrap while perched on one of the desks.

“Yes,” the long-haired Anakin hummed. You’ve lost count at how many times Ahsoka has asked the question, and you’re pretty sure Master Kenobi, Rex and Cody have the same question swimming their head since yesterday. It’s only the constant patience that has persevered through the Order’s new guest that sets a guilty fire ablaze within your body — and it’s definitely from the way his voice never even fluctuates, just stays the smooth baritone, lower than the usual. It’s the same tone that your Anakin’s voice always has when he woke up to you working again late in the night, or he just strolled into your quarters wearing nothing but shorts and pressed himself against your back, his toned frame somehow slotting perfectly against your edges.

“But…” she tilted her head, her lekku twitching. “You look so mature.”

“Snips!” barked Anakin, shooting a sharp scowl toward Master Kenobi’s hacking laughter. Ahsoka shrugged, stuffing herself with more of her ronto wrap. Anakin’s long-haired copy softly pressed his twitching lips together. He caught your lingering gaze, and spread his lips into a smile, one that crinkled the edges of his twinkling eyes.

“How long is this going to take again?”

You snapped to a stiff, attentive posture as Anakin cleared his throat.

Master Kenobi sighed again. “Anakin, you must be patient—”

“—farmboy here smells like weed—”

“Anakin!”

“He’s not wrong.”

Anakin and Master Kenobi’s bickering ceases.

“What do you mean?”

He turns to you, and you internally slap yourself for suddenly becoming his center of attention. Not such a bad idea, but then—

“Are you…” Master Kenobi finds his voice again, bringing you back to the room again. “Are you not a Jedi, Anakin?”

There’s a slight crack in Master Kenobi’s voice, one that propels Ahsoka to stand next to him. The long-haired Anakin surveys the both of them, eyes softly squinted deep in thought, possibly pondering on how to break this brand new piece of information to a suddenly very fragile-looking old man and a dispirited young teenager.

The long-haired Anakin exhales. “I’m Anakin Skywalker, aged twenty-one Galactic Standard. I left the Jedi Order after I turned nineteen, and I’m a farmer—well, part-time mechanic, on Naboo.”

Your eyes widen, exchanging a surprised glance with Aayla.

“Master Kenobi, are you sure none of us are high?”

“Padawan,” chastised the Jedi, his shock secured tightly behind his shields. “I apologise, Anakin—I mean—”

“It’s alright, Obi-Wan.”

The long-haired Anakin waved his hands, and Obi-Wan visibly stiffens at the use of his name by a version of Anakin he should know but he doesn’t.

“You did train me, but I…” he scratched the back of his head, showing all teeth with a gentle, sheepish smile. “Things happened, and I made the choice to leave.”

You swore he looked at you; you were always looking at Anakin for some maker-forsaken reason or the other.

“And the war?”

Anakin turns to Cody and Rex, their military etiquette all thrown out the window.

“What war?”

The floor practically shifts with a lurch from the Force.

“You… you don’t have a war? The Clone Wars?”

He turns to you, and the world melts away as you look up at him, datapad clutched to your chest as a shield from him and from your simmering desperation.

The long-haired Anakin — you should definitely give him a name aside from his long hair — has a piercing gaze, one your Anakin looked at you everytime you looked up at him, your chin pressed to his chest, his arms around your waist as his nose crinkled with every laugh shared between you two about the stupidity of the Separtists’ battle droids.

“From all that I’ve been privy to," he swallows, his sharp apple jutting out even more prominently that it did. “The galaxy isn’t having the, uh, Clone Wars. We do have clones, but they work with the Jedi and provide humanitarian aid.”

“Captain Rex and Commander Cody work under Obi-Wan, who took on a young Togruta as his new padawan after I left,” he turns once again to Ahsoka, smiling. “I’m not General Skywalker, I’m just… Anakin.”

You blink, unable to process him. A part of you pushes that there’s a complete liar standing before you, a shapeshifter sent here to trick the Republic and distract the Consular who’s coincidentally working to counter their latest planet-killing superweapon. But the Anakin before you is as real as yours. He’s had a different life that you can’t help but wonder if you’re there—

“Hypothetically speaking—” coughs Rex. “Can I sign up for multiversal travel?”

“Rex!”

“I don’t like this.”

“More than sand?”

Anakin rolls his eyes at Padmé, who gives him a laugh as she continues to type her latest proposal behind her desk.

His lithe legs propped upon the corner of her desk, Anakin crosses his arms together, replaying the exact moment where he felt your Force signature spring alive when his double looked at you.

He’d never elicited a similar reaction from you when he was there. All those moments holding you close, regaling you in his tales until you succumbed to sleep, feeling your heart against his and wishing it were just like this for eternity. It was torture having to stay away from you, to be called time and again to this siege and that battle when all he wanted was to wake up next to you and live the life that other people did when they loved each other in a way he had loved you since the two of you were sixteen.

He even felt embarrassed to voice this in front of the Chancellor, who had suspiciously kept on pestering him to great lengths to enquire about the reason for his distraction. Clearly, he’d been sloppy — even Obi-Wan had managed to pick up his emotions in the heat of the battle. He’d decided to stay away from the Temple, show his ‘interest’ in politics so that such a slip wouldn’t occur again though, that your position as a Jedi wouldn’t be compromised by his misery. Though, he thinks to himself, the emergence of his double from another dimension spelled trouble for him in both Basic and Huttese.

Damn father, he grumbled to himself.

“If you keep having that stupid, angry look on your face, I’m afraid Sabé would be more than happy to throw you out of my office.”

Anakin sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s just—” he stood up from his seat, pacing. “She likes him more! That peaceful, farming version of me over… me.”

Padmé turned her attention away from the blue screen, sincere pity softly twisting her lips.

“And you’re here, out of all places.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m just saying,” she shrugged, her smile growing wider. “It’s a sign.”

Anakin hesitated, his stomach roiling with anxiety.

“Are you sure I should—?”

“If you don’t, I will.”

Anakin laughs. Hope blooming bright in his chest, he gives his childhood friend a grateful nod, and races out of the office.

Having receiving enough complaints about ‘seeing double’ of a certain Anakin Skywalker, Master Yoda explicitly commanded you to serve as the long-haired Anakin’s tour guide for the day, remarking a day away from the Temple ought to make him comfortable in his new universe — and reduce Master Windu’s migraines. Since you concomittantly had to visit the Senate Archives for business, you decided your new guest would accompany you to the prompt excursion to the laughing stock that was the Galaxy’s governing body.

Both of you had been loaned a speeder by the Jedi Council, to which the long-haired Anakin simply pointed a slender finger to a sleek, open-roofed speeder glinting under the spotlight of Coruscant’s artificial weather.

"That looks better, wouldn’t you think?” he grinned.

Maker, let the Force lend its might to you today to calm your fluttering heart. He wasn’t just glowing with happiness, you knew very well he was playing with you, and you’d be a fool to deny it wasn’t a good look on him.

So, with a begrudging sigh, you agreed, and headed straight for Dex’s Diner — an establishment he seemed quite familiar with.

“Ani!” Dex roared proudly, sweeping you and him in a hug before you even had a chance to look around for empty seats. “Look at how you’ve grown,” he said appraisingly as he drew back, “And what’s with the hair, eh? All dressed up for a date?”

“This—no—” you fervently shook your head, cheeks ablaze. “No, this isn’t a date—”

You glared pointedly at the long-haired Anakin — Ani — who softly cocked his brow. He seemed to decide with himself for a moment, and then spread his lips in a cocksure grin, the exact same your Anakin had in those holo-videos labelled ‘Hero with No Fear’ racking up views all over the galaxy.

“Last time I remember—”

He snakes his arm around your waist and pulls you next to his toned frame.

“—I did get a yes.”

“That was fun.”

Your disagreements lose to the quick beat of your heart, and you stab the scoopful of ice cream in your hands as you walk through the senate hallways. Leaving aside the fact that the trip to the archives was a monumental failure as you’d expected, you’d come as close as falling to the dark side to melt into a pool of a miserable puddle of your love and embarrassment.

“You’ll figure it out.”

You look up at him, realising the two of you have come to a stop in the middle of your footsteps.

“Whatever the enemy is planning, I’m sure you’ll foil their plans. I know it.”

He smiles, licking the ice cream off the corner of his lips and jutting the spoon in the air as if it were his lightsaber.

The confidence in his voice makes you wonder if he knew you. Not you, but a version of you in his universe.

What were you to this version of Anakin? Were you what Anakin was in your universe? The ‘Heroine with No Fear,’ or ‘The Jedi with No Fear,’ even if there was no war in his galaxy. Were you an acclaimed Jedi or a nobody from the backwater planet you belonged to?

Were you even someone he liked? With the manner you currently struggled to contain the depth of admiration you harboured for your Anakin, being lovers seemed out of the question. Were you at least his friend? Or, you gulped to yourself as your heart sunk low, were you dead?

“Consular Jedi.”

Your voice perked up at the entourage making way towards you, led by—

“Chancellor Palpatine!”

You offered the old man a short bow, which he returned to you with an amicable smile. His eyes roved over—

“Anakin, my dear boy,” his visage extended over to Ani; he let out a chuckle. “I must have caught you by surprise, son.”

You looked over to Ani, who had dropped his ice cream and the little wooden spoon on the floor, the hem of the Chancellor’s robes trailing with tiny chocolate chips.

He looked like a deer caught in the spotlight, except only a fool would describe him as a prey. No, he looked like the commander that Anakin always had been — alert, sharp, observant, and most of all, protective of his loved ones and his duty.

“Are you alright, my boy?”

The Chancellor’s eyes darted between the two of you, and you cleared your throat, wrapping your arm around Ani’s right one, shielding it entirely by your billowing robes.

“We were just coming back from the archives, Chancellor,” you cleared your throat. Feeling Ani tighten his grip around your arm, you continued. “Anakin thought to offer an extra set of hands in my search for a solution to the Separatists’ rumoured advantage.”

“Ah, of course,” the man nodded, interwining his bony fingers one over the other hand. “I must not hinder you, I suppose—Anakin, my boy, do come for a visit, will you? You seem to be avoiding me, though I now understand why.”

He shot a fatherly wink at Ani, who only seemed to stiffen even further, his arms balling into tight, iron-rod fists.

“Of course,” Ani found his voice, steel replacing his usual gentleness. “It was lovely meeting you but I’m afraid we must be on our way—”

Before you could even hear the old man’s professional toodle-oo, Ani simply tugged you by your arm and walked past the entourage, his long strides taking you to the far end of the Senate’s circular hallways within a blink of your eye. Reaching a destination guarateeing privacy, he looked around.

“Anakin, what—WHOA!”

You let out a grunt as your back slammed against the durasteel walls. He looks down at you, an apology flashing in his eyes, but the steel in his voice stops your protests.

“What the kark is that man doing here?”

Your eyebrows shoot up into your forehead, “What?”

You look at him through the Force; his sun is now an eclipse, shadowed by the foreboding storm and thunder.

“Anakin,” you gulp softly, gathering your courage, “He’s the Supreme Chancellor, what—what are you—”

You pause, your mind backpedalling to the events in your office.

“Things happened, and I made the choice to leave.”

He shifts in his feet just as your eyes widen.

“Sky.”

His arms wrap around your trembling figure, but you never leave his gaze.

“Sky, listen to me, it’s okay—”

“Why…” you cut in, failing to sound calm. “Why did you leave the Order?”

“Because I fulfilled my destiny.”

The storm within him dissolves with a wave of the seas within him. Your glare demands answers; his chest puts strain on the fibres of his beige shirt as he exhales sharply.

"I discovered the Sith that had been plaguing the Jedi and the Republic. It was…”

He lets out a bitter chuckle, the corners of his lips downturned.

“It was so ingenious, the way he had been doing it. Getting close to me ever since I was a child, preying on my fears, my insecurities. Deluding me into thinking I was going to be alone forever simply because I was different than the others, that I was born of no father and only a loving mother, that I was a child of the Force itself and as such, the Jedi viewed me as a threat.”

“But what he hadn’t seen coming, what even I hadn’t expected to gain was that I began to have people on my side. People who trained me and taught me that the Dark is never the option to take, because it takes and it takes from you and leaves you wanting more, it leaves you empty, as a shell of who you were. It leaves you alone and no one to go to. And I had people… people who pulled me back—”

He meets your gaze, blown open and vulnerable.

“—people who made me see reason, that my mind was being tipped in a direction that was not of my own making, but of the Sith who I had allowed to poison my mind since I was a child. Sky…”

He intakes a sharp breath.

“I am the Chosen One just as your Anakin is. And I did it. I fulfilled my destiny and stopped the return of the Sith.”

Ani holds your hands, pressing your palm to his chest. A tremor passes through your body, and he steadies your figure, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Please, you must believe me. I can sense you care deeply for my variant in this universe, and he is in grave danger, Sky.”

Your mind flashes back to one of Master Yoda’s classes, where he had droned in his wise way how the Force made itself known to warn its believers that life itself was in grave danger; it was a warning, a shadow, an event, something or the other that shook the defenders into of their senses and prompted them to act for the betterment of the survival of the Galaxy — and for your own good.

You had felt the Force the first time when Master Windu had arrived to your village years ago, offering his hand to enter the world of the Jedi. The Force had given a warm nudge for you to take his hand and take the chance; you had taken it.

You had felt the Force the second time when you met Anakin Skywalker, nine years old, young and shy, and terribly homesick for the embrace of his mother’s arms. The Force had giggled, and you had decided, fate or not, that you would bring a smile to his forlorn face.

You had felt the Force the third time when you were on Geonosis, standing the arena with your master, saber ignited as Anakin let out a joyous cheer, joining you back-to-back as you both tore through droid after droid in the relentless carnage. The Force, triumphant, had melded the two of you as one machine, as one competently-built Corellian freighter tearing apart the enemy.

The present moment is when you feel the Force again, screaming. You see death and blood, corpses of younglings and clone soldiers strewn on the floors of the Jedi Temple. But Anakin’s there, and you see hope, you see a future with laughing children and the galaxy, alive than you’ve ever felt it to be.

The Force holds its breath, and despite what the Jedi Code said, you’ve never chosen to ignore life.

You steel yourself and look up at him, determined.

“I believe you.”

His gaze widens, and the temperature around you shoots up, charged.

But it isn’t coming from the Anakin front of you, rather from a few feet away from the both of you.

You meet the dark look on your Anakin’s face, his armor glinting in the pale, sterile Coruscanti sunlight.

You haven’t even blinked, but he’s next to you in mere six steps, Ani’s hurling toward the ground, and you’re in Anakin’s arms, warm, cold, safe and scared.

“Anakin.”

He looks down at you, and he melts.

“It’s okay, he wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

You turn to Ani, who’s now on his feet, his stance as same as your Anakin.

“We need to leave,” he states to his armoured copy, stark.

“He’s right,” you turn back to Anakin, “We’re in danger, Anakin, the Chancellor is the Sith—”

“What?!”

He recoils, looking back and forth between him and you.

“Sky, he’s messing with you, don’t listen to him—”

“Are you serious?” scoffs Ani, balling his hands into tight fists.

“You’re the one to talk—”

The sky suddenly turns dark, lights blinking awake in the buildings outside. Clouds fog the tallest skyscrapers, crackling with blue lightning.

The floor beneath you trembles, and you look at the end of the hallway.

There’s a man in a dark robe that you could’ve mistaken for a statue. But his eyes are a burning yellow that remind you of the flames of your Master’s funeral pyre.

The hooded figure bristles, and you can feel his sickly smile on your skin, feel the two Anakins next to you tense as the cold finally settles on their shoulders.

The name shouldn’t click in your head, but it does.

“Sidious.”

Silence rings in your ears.

“On three,” whispers Ani.

His fingers grasp yours and, from the corner of your eyes, Anakin holds your left hand as delicate his shock and anger can allow his metal arm to be.

“One, two—”

You take toward the window.

“—three.”

CRASH !

The air r i p s with a violent blue and purple, and glass tears at your clothes as the air whips at your face and you freefall against the cold steel and stabbing rain.

to be continued...

thank you so so much for reading! if you'd like to be added to the tag list, drop a comment below! 💗✨

cross-posted on AO3

part one | two (here) | ....

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yandere-kokeshi · 1 year

Text

Yandere Alphabet of Simon “Ghost” Riley

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about some non-consent touches and sex; MDNI!!!!

A/N: I got this idea yet again from my bestie @yandere-heaven; please check out their amazing art :]!

Yandere alphabet draft is here.

Update: Grammer issues are expected. I didn't have time to double check. Sorry :/!

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

— Considering from the beginning, his affection is subtle but meaningful. Simon is pretty wary of boundaries, so at first, he wouldn’t touch you without looking for any discomfort, rather letting you come to him, no matter how much he wants to touch or kiss you. But the further you two go, the more touch-starved he is.

The minute you allow a cuddle session or even something remotely romantic, he’s as stiff as a board. But, with more time and effort into the ‘relationship’, Simon learns what he and you like, which ends with him becoming a huge teddy bear that always wants to be hugged and kissed; his hands being on you some way or another.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

— He’ll get as messy as he needs to be to ensure your safety is clear. He wouldn’t like to come home drenched in blood or have you fear him, which results in him doing a whole lot of things behind your back, assassinating people who are a danger, annoyance, or a mess to be with you. The situation gets worse if he finds out you are abused or hurt by someone. No one lives with hurting you, no matter what shape or form, he will kill them.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

— Simon only abducted you once he felt your safety was threatened (which is 90% of the time). While he does know you will have a hard time adjusting, and possibly feel uncomfortable or confused near him, in which he recognizes and doesn’t get upset if you snap or cry at him. However, what he needs you to understand is that this is for your protection.

He wouldn’t even mock you. With Ghost, he’s pretty soft towards you - never blinking an eye when you ask for a certain snack or gift when he’s out and about. He’s scarily calm, letting you do whatever you feel comfortable with for you to feel comfortable with him.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

— Simon wouldn’t do a whole lot against your will, possibly a few being keeping you isolated for a few hours in your room if you are upset and a few rare non-consent touches. Other than that, Simon respects your boundaries, no matter how ‘weird’ or ‘confused’ it is to him, he wants you to love him as much as he loves you.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bear to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

— Ghost is more than willing to bear his heart for you - but for him to open up to you, it’ll take a good few years for him to fully reveal things towards you. It’s an extremely slow and private process. But once he does feel comfortable with being vulnerable with you, there are a few things that you are allowed to see that no others are allowed.

Not only will you be able to see his face almost 24/7 - which is harshly rare - but he will try to open up details about himself and his past life (his childhood and things he’s gone through). Confessing and being vulnerable is hard for Ghost, especially with the way his personality and his protective nature for privacy is built; with time, he believes the two of you could be more than ‘friends’ and something he’d like to call ‘his spouse’.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

— It doesn’t affect him. Much like I said in my original headcanons: he’s always a few steps ahead of you. And with his training tactics, he’s blocking your attacks with his, giving you a look if you throw slurs at him and ultimately will ignore you with a heavy sigh.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

— When it comes to relationships with him, he never considers this a game. He takes things seriously. Simon doesn’t enjoy it at all. He doesn’t like games with you nor using his already-tired muscles from missions to continuously chase you in the woods. It becomes irritating.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

— seeing him angry - especially at someone else. While he may get frustrated or upset at you, which he rarely shows. But again, Simon is unpredictable and he, as a yandere, takes your safety seriously.

The minute your safety is threatened in any shape or form, he’s getting incredibly gruesome; his body is covered in thick blood as he tries to console your freaked-out manner.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

— he’s never really had the minute to think about the future with you two. But, he’d like something calm and peaceful: growing old with you. Whenever he gets home, his shoulders have a minute to relax — the smell of you and home weaves in, your shared pets running up to greet him as he feels at ease, watching you from the front door as you make your way toward him.

Simon’s stress lowers down. He doesn’t have to worry about you getting hurt as he’s there. He loves relaxing in your arms, watching you ramble about things he missed while he was gone, and watching you interact with the family you’ve created (human children/or animals, whatever you decide).

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

— he does get jealous but he’s fairly good at hiding it, only a sign of his touches becoming more prominent. Simon will get irritated, clenching his fists while his eyes narrow towards the person flirting with you - however, the minute he approaches, his thick accent asking if you’re ready to head home and a hand wrapping against your waist, he sees the person shit themselves before leaving in a hurry.

While he does let you socialize, as that’s needed, Ghost is fairly suspicious of everyone he encounters, he’s not afraid of using his intimidating structure and scary voice to make the person go away.

When you two get home, he won’t get bothered or integrate you, rather asking if you are okay - but the minute he suspects you doing it on purpose is the minute your legs are incredibly sore for the next few hours.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

— Ghost acts almost the same as he would a non-yandere, acting as if the abduction never happened and you two are normal couples living in a cabin, far away from society. When he starts to ‘actually’ get to know you, his actual personality traits start to break out and Simon becomes a softy.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

— There are a few ways Simon can approach you, but the main two are that you’ve already known him by being in the military (or outside the military) or revealing himself after he abducted you.

With courting, he’s incredibly observant. High chance, he may know more than you may think: he knows your kinks before you two have sex or a certain friend you’ve never talked about is currently in Japan. Now and again, he’ll grab things you like, making sure that you know that he cares deeply for you. He pays attention to the slightest things - the way you move your hands when talking, and how quiet you get when you feel upset or scared. Or how your eyes move to certain things in the windows of shops.

He acts as if the two of you run primarily on the same road, slowly making his way into every crack of your life.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

— Somewhat. With his masking (no pun intended) and showing his actual personality, they both are completely different things. Ghost being himself, he’s the same: harsh, somewhat of a jerk, fast, and gets things done when they are asked. But, when he’s in the room alone with you, letting him show his real colors, he almost becomes a different person - his tense muscles relax, the mask falls off, and a rare smile of happiness while his eyes glint up when he’s with you.

In all truth, Simon’s more open, expressing things that are annoying him or simply telling you what his needs are; wanting to hold you as much as he can before he leaves again.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

— Ghost doesn’t enjoy punishing you but if it needs to be done, then it needs to be. There are a few ways of punishing you but if we are talking about running away/escaping, Simon will punish you by becoming a bit rougher/or demanding and stripping your privacy by 99%.

No longer are you allowed to have the door closed (unless that’s using the bathroom but it’s still minimal). Your wifi/electronics have a time limit and rarely are you left alone. At best, when he's home, Simon is in the same room as you - glancing at your at area to make sure you stay put.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

— Like most yandere’s, he would take most of them away and gradually give them back; watching how you use them. However, outside this area, Simon doesn’t allow you to use anything remotely sharp or considered harmful towards you and him (ex. knives, scissors, certain pencils, etc) and hide things from him. While he respects his decisions on diaries of sorts, if you are continually not allowing him to look through your phone, he will suspect something.

To be exact, this is the bare minimum. Simon is pretty subtle, resulting in you having a bit more than your average obsessor. He still lets you socialize - having your friends/family and can contact them for meetups, but he has to be there with you or know your location 24/7.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

— One of the few that are incredibly patient. To the point it’s considerably terrifying.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

— if you were able to escape him without being caught, he’s impressed. But rumors have said that the sheep can only hide for so long before the wolf catches up. Simon wouldn’t be able to move on until you get back into the cabin, regardless of the situation on how he does it.

If you died, this would be the one that would fully push him over the edge; he will mourn your death, waking up each day while reconsidering why he’s still moving on. You were his person. He doesn’t know what to do without you here. At best, he’d sit at home, barely eating, drinking, sleeping - just staring into the abyss as his heart has gone numb.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

— Sometimes. If you have harsh or upsetting tantrums, he does feel bad. But in his heart, he knows this is for your good. Sooner or later, you’ll see it as much as he does.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

— what brings this side out of him is by being a gentle/kind person, not caring for his harsh nature, and wanting to get the real side of him many don’t experience. While this may be cliché, you need to realize his life has been riddled and tricked with many gruesome and harmful things, and now all he wants is peace: someone he can rely on to keep his mind from going insane.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

— These behaviors don’t affect him, it doesn’t necessarily mean that it makes him uncomfortable but he doesn’t like seeing it either. He can easily stop these, the isolating is rarely gonna happen due to him always being in your space when he’s home. And the tantrums by just letting you have them - returning a few hours with comfort food of yours to feel better. As well as giving you Ibuprofen for your throat.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

— He’s always scarily calm, no matter the circumstance. No matter how cruel you can be, whether that’s throwing stuff at him, yelling things at him, or trying to attack him - Simon, somehow, always stays rational and rarely breaks character.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

— Honestly, it’s extremely hard to escape from Ghost as he’s a soldier; a trained combat assassin who’s incredibly smart and unlike any other MW2 yandere’s, he never lets down his guard; even in the safe house with the two of you.

The best two options would be using his past against him (ex. blaming him, manipulating, etc.), which is an extremely harsh thing to do - based on his trust levels and the headcanons above, it’ll take years for him to reveal things that have happened to him.

The other one would be forcing him to hurt you out of anger - which again - is almost impossible. He’s incredibly careful with you and his anger with you rarely ever shows. But if you continually push his buttons at the right pace and in the same spot, it’s expected to happen, which is not a pretty sight.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

— he would never intentionally harm you in any matter. But, if you test his buttons continuously, he may accidentally do so.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

— Simon wouldn’t worship you but rather respect you as his spouse. Neither does he want to be worshiped. He sees you as the only one for him. In this case, he will make it clear that he won’t like anybody else and will go to lengths to win you over, or at least have you comfortable with him. If needed, he will change his way of approaching or some of his harsh traits for you to fit in with you better, buying things that you adore and making sure that you feel at ease with him.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

— it all depends on the situation. If we are talking about you being in the military, a few good months to a year before he snaps; witnessing you get hurt badly that resulted in him having the same fear he had years and years ago.

A good childhood friend of his he reunites with? Within a few weeks. Not only were you precious to him when he was abused but you helped him through the few times of the hardest time of his life. Of course, when he sees you again, everything he was once will reveal itself again.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

— No. Again, you still have some form of freedom - you are allowed to see your friends and family, and only a few rules in place that he expects you to follow to a capital T.

This is probably the only reason you still haven’t gone insane yet.

—

Masterlist || Please reblog or comment instead of liking, it helps me a bunch!

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ravixen · 10 months

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Hi hi! I just saw ur reply to my comment to ur “svt + forgetting your date” and I wanted to make a request if possible. I was hoping the same concept but with Jun, The8, and DK and possibly Jeonghan? If not, that’s totally cool and understandable. LOVE UR WORK BTW!! ❤️

svt + forgetting your date (pt 2)

➔ reaction || requested

➔ warnings: none || 0.9k words ➔ notes: general ; thanks for the love! writing for four members is definitely okay :) it follows my guidelines. if people enjoy reading my stuff, please reblog instead of spam liking!

JEONGHAN: him and his big mouth. when you call, voice petulant as you ask if he's standing you up, he laughs and says, "yeah, I am." the issue lies in the fact that he thinks it's a bit and waits for the punchline while you are waiting for him outside of the movies fifteen minutes after your scheduled meet up time. "...so are you actually not on your way?" he tilts his head. "on my way where? listen, i'm with joshua right now. can I call you back later?" he's so confused when you hang up with an annoyed don't bother. it takes hours for him to realize what's wrong. he hangs out with joshua, he goes home to shower, and he hops on his phone while waiting for his food delivery to arrive. that's when he sees your friend's insta story; it's a boomerang with a movie stub and you holding up a bucket of popcorn in the background. the caption I'M the boyfriend now >:) is what finally gets his head on straight, and he's dialing your number immediately...only to get sent to voicemail. he'll have to grovel for your forgiveness with more than his usual smooth words, and for a good while, he decides to stop playing around whenever he's not sure. it's better to be boring than to upset you again.

JUNHUI: he is constantly attached to his phone, so to say that you're pissed at him for not responding when you actually need him is an understatement. then you check his insta story and see that he's out with his china-line crew as of an hour ago, and that makes your anger boil over because you've been waiting here for nearly twenty minutes and he's eating hot pot? you text him don't talk to me for the rest of the night before stuffing your phone in your pocket and heading home to sulk. on junhui's end, he hears his phone ding, but his friends wave it off. "don't be distracted at the table," one of them complains when he reaches for it. "tell us about that story you never finished—the one from the award show." he hesitates. "I'll just check it really quickly. what if it's an emergency?" they concede with an eye roll, but his heart sinks as he sees all the missed notifications from you. um...does an angry partner count as an emergency? he'll finish spending time with his friends, though he'll bow out of their dessert boba run, and he'll respect your wishes about being left alone. that at least give him the rest of the night to think of how to make this up to you.

SEOKMIN: two weeks ago, you asked seokmin if he's sure he didn't need to put your date in his calendar. his response was this: of course not! you think I'd forget about you that easily? paired with a stunning smile that reassured you in the moment. well, that smile is gone now as he realizes that he double-booked himself, and what doesn't help is the fact that his friends brought him to the same cafe where you sit waiting in the corner, sipping on a drink. you don't say anything when you make eye contact; you just raise an eyebrow and go back to your phone, which is worse, he thinks. even though he messed up, you're giving him the grace of not being called out in front of his friends. but then one of them spots you. "hey, isn't that your partner? what a coincidence! do you want to call them over—we have an empty spot!" at their waving, you come over and take a seat next to him, laughing about how this is such an interesting coincidence. he hopes no one notices that he sinks in his seat, a little quieter than usual. from then on, he's definitely updating his calendar as soon as you schedule a date.

MINGHAO: whenever he has a stressful day, he likes to remove himself from everything, go to a quiet area, and perform a tea ceremony. sometimes he'll invite his friends, but sometimes he'd rather be alone, letting the sounds of nature and his own breathing wash over his frayed senses. today he can't go anywhere else, so he heads to a quiet back room and settles for playing ambient sounds on his phone. technically he doesn't forget your dinner date—he just gets so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't know how much time has passed until you poke your head through the door and ask where the food is. "the what?" you blink. "the food? I thought you said you were going to cook today while i ran errands," you say, looking at him strangely as he scrambles for his phone. "sorry, I didn't realize it was this late..." he gives you a sheepish smile. "how about getting take out delivery instead?" after a moment of silence, you mumble that you're fine with that. he'll make it up to you later; he knows you were looking forward to the dish he's been promising for a week.

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circeyoru · 2 months

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Hello~ Small thing but I’ve been thinking about Alastor in the Unwanted Soul series trying to get Reader to sing and dance with him. I feel like Reader would refuse to do that stuff but sometimes he catches them humming, especially anime OSTs lol. He doesn’t know what song it is but he’s happy to hear it anyway.

OH OH AND HE’D BE REALLY HAPPY IF THEY ABSENTMINDEDLY HUMMED A SONG HE’S PLAYED AROUND THE HOUSE BEFORE. He’d be so touched, like, they like the music he likes lol. Even better if they heard the song between him and Vox over the radio/TV and was humming that or any other song Alastor sang.

Sorry, just wanted to talk about that cuz obviously music and singing is really big in Hell and Alastor clearly loves that stuff. He’d be psyched if Reader enjoyed his songs or joined in with him but it’s highly unlikely Reader would actually sing or dance with him. I love this series and I agree with the other Anon that this is my favorite series. I keep checking your blog for updates. Thank you for writing for us!

Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}

I'm literally treating these asks as trivia. Interesting but too small of a part to put in the story.

But, thanks for your words! Really!! I'm happy writing these parts and answering your questions for this! I can't stop saying that I never expected this series to blow up like this. so THANK YOU guys again!! (I need to learn more 'thank you' words...)

Back to the ask.

Now Reader/you are something that has a thing for music. There's no specific type you like but if it vibes with you, you like it. You're aware that Hell's a musical place, you got quite the shock when Lucifer first sang to you when he was trying to convince you to live. Yeah, awkward...

You just accepted it afterwards.

Ho ho, you hum and sing. On the spur of the moment. You even dance too, your memories good that you can replicate dance moves after vibing with the song and dance chorepgraphy. You did it anytime at home.

That is, before Alastor came into your life.

You kept these to yourself, or you would shut the door and ward off Alastor with your pages. Then you can do it. Sing and dance. But, of course, Alastor knew this little habit of yours and didn't point it out so he could enjoy it without you taking more measures to hide it. You hum in front of him, while he doesn't know what music you were humming, he enjoys it altogether.

This breaks when Alastor gives you his soul. It was a somewhat normal day, the trigger point was you putting your foot down and telling (not asking) him to leave. He just breaks off into a song, specifically *Stalker's Tango*. Take it as an intimidation tactic, but he was being very convincing. You were aware of his love for you and want for your attention, so it wasn't scary but annoying to you. (hope you guys read part 4 already) You return his declaration with a song of your own *I Can't Decide*, you accepted his soul to show him his mistake, not knowing that it was his plan for you to care for him.

Yeah, Alastor was eating it all up. The fact that you counter with a song too. Music to his ears. The fact that you were thinking this much about him. It's good. A good start.

You know how his radio could talk and play tracks (in the pilot)? Now Alastor plays romantic songs here and there in your home, though careful not to drown out your videos and music. He did a double take when he heard a double of the songs he was playing, it came from your room, then there was your soft humming. He'd lean against the wall next to your door and listen with a fond smile. He was aware that you could more easily do things on your own, like searching up the songs he played without asking him, then here you were enjoying it in secret. He won't say a word, treating it a secret between you two.

Alastor gave you a radio that connects to his staff, sometimes letting you listen in on the songs and as a way of communication. You only knew that when you heard his reprise of Charlie's *Inside Every Demon Is A Rainbow*, you won't admit to Alastor that his version was better and more accurate. You were actually hooked on *Stayed Gone* and hummed it a few times, especially Alastor's ending verse. You and Alastor reenacted the whole song when he was allowed to visit you, but since Alastor was interested to see you singing his verses, you sang his parts and Alastor sang Vox's. It was heaven-sent. He was somewhat offended that you liked *Hell's Greatest Dad* though, cause you were more hooked on Lucifer's beginning verse.

Now though, Alastor asks for your hand to sway a bit. You comply and Alastor would be humming some song, he makes an effort to take an interest in your songs because you were secretive on your interest. He tries (and purposely fails) on singing your songs, then you'd be correcting him and teaching him with a teasing side smile. He doesn't care for the songs and music, he cares that you like them.

#Circe's Nighty Writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

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diazsdimples · 1 month

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Tease Tidbit Tuesday

I'm getting to everyone's snippets tonight, I promise! I'm a few days behind cause lectures have just started up again 😬 tagged for Tuesday by @thewolvesof1998 and @elvensorceress thank you friends 🫶. Also I'm updating my taglist for the first time ever so please interact with this post if you want to be on it!

Figured I should probably get cracking on my 7x06 spec fic before the episode comes out so please enjoy a bit of Buck getting roasted by his best friend and boyfriend.

Eddie frowns, looking a little confused. “I thought you guys were all good?” “We are,” Buck replies, his eyes never leaving his parents as he watches them greet guests, both looking the brightest and bubbliest he’s seen them in years. From afar he’s sure they look like a regular, happy older couple enjoying their daughter’s wedding, but Buck can’t hide the way seeing them still makes his gut twist uncomfortably. Tommy snorts beside him, bringing him back to reality. “Except Evan decided it was a good idea not to mention me until today” Eddie does a little double take, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. “Wait, you haven’t told them yet?” “I’m gonna go find Denny,” Christopher announces, bored of listening to the adults. “Is that okay, Dad?” “Yeah, of course bud. See you in a bit,” Eddie says, ruffling Christopher’s hair. The three of them watch as he shoots off, making his way towards Hen, Karen and Denny as fast as his legs can carry him. When he’s safely out of earshot, Eddie rounds on Buck again, fixing him with an incredulous look. “Seriously, Buck, in what world did you think springing this on them today was a good idea?” “That’s what I said!” Tommy says, flicking Buck a smirk as he squeezes his side. “Hey, you’re meant to be on my side!” Buck protests, elbowing Tommy in the ribs, but it’s all forgiven when Tommy brushes a light kiss against Buck’s temple. “And I didn’t want to tell them in person, I thought doing it like this would be… easier,” Buck finishes lamely, aware of how delusional he’s sounding. “Uh huh, cause telling your parents big, life changing things has always been easy in person hasn’t it,” Eddie deadpans, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrow at Buck in a way that screams you’re an idiot and you know it. “Listen, I wasn’t exactly thinking -” “Clearly,” Tommy and Eddie say in unison, turning to one another with shit-eating grins as Buck gives them both a flat look, before continuing. “- but, I didn’t want them to gripe at me and say they would have rather heard it face to face than from behind a phone.” “I think they probably would have had a go at you either way, honestly,” Eddie says with a sympathetic shrug, and he reaches over to squeeze Buck’s shoulder. Buck sighs and burrows closer into Tommy’s side, resting his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Tommy runs his hand down Buck’s spine, rubbing at each spinous process as he encourages Buck to relax. Buck softens a little, biting back a whine as Tommy nuzzles his nose against Buck’s hairline. “You’re probably right,” he admits with a sigh. He’d really wanted nothing more than to heal his relationship with his parents but turns out it takes more than a little lightning strike and some shitty therapy sessions to mend years of trauma.

No pressure tagging @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @bidisasterevankinard @neverevan

@babybibuck @fortheloveofbuddie @spotsandsocks @aroeddiediaz @daffi-990

@jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @wikiangela @bibuckbuckgoose @exhuastedpigeon

@cal-daisies-and-briars @wildlife4life @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @evanbegins @nmcggg

@alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @weewootruck @rainbow-nerdss @kitteneddiediaz @epicbuddieficrecs

@smilingbuckley @actuallyitsellie @spagheddiediaz @loserdiaz @thekristen999

@loveyouanyway (Remember to interact with this post if you want to be on my taglist and lmk if you want to be removed)

#james writes #7x06 spec fic #bucktommy wedding fic #bucktommy #bucktommy wip #tevan #kinkley #tuck #911 abc #evan buckley #buddie #eddie diaz #911 buddie #911 fanfic #911

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ham-st4r · 1 year

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𝓦𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓟𝓽.2 - 𝓛. 𝓗𝓮𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰

Pairing: heeseung + female reader!

Warnings: cursing, alcohol, mature content, no smut, bold is texting, green text is sunoo.

Genre: fuck buddies-ish, toxic relationship. little bit of comedy.

Summary: After you promised yourself you’d never contact heeseung again, you stayed true to your word, but, all of a sudden, he’s showing up out of nowhere at your apartment, but why?

Number of words: 3k+ I’ll update Masterlist and word count tomorrow.

Trying something new with this story, so please bear with me here’s pt.2 of wasted time I hope you all enjoy.

Find your way around!

Pt.1 Pt.3

“Come over,” Heeseung texted you a couple of days after your last hook up.

It was nearing four in the morning, and he just couldn’t seem to fall asleep, so he texted you to come over. He knew if he had a quick little session with you, that’d be more than enough to make him sleepy.

He kept his messages open cause he knew you’d be replying as soon as you got his text. You always did.

Little did he know you were on the opposite end, chuckling dryly at the recent text he had sent to you.

If that was a few days ago, you would have already been out of the house to go take care of him, but you promised yourself you were done with him, and you weren’t going to take that promise back just so he could get his dick wet and his ego boosted.

He waited about a minute or so, but you still hadn’t replied. “Hmmm,” he hummed in thought, wondering what was taking you so long to reply after the first three minutes had passed.

“Are you awake?” He double-texted you, and still no reply.

“She must be asleep,” he said to himself and tossed his phone on the bed next to him.

He looked down at his length that was straining against the fabric of his boxers, and he let out a loud groan, out of all nights. Why did you have to be asleep? He needed to feel you so bad right now.

He placed his palm over his shaft, lightly stroking it the way you always did before you gave him head. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine that you were lying between his legs, tracing your skillful fingers over his cock. Still, that image was hard to achieve when there was a huge difference between the feeling of your delicate touch compared to his rough eager one. Still, he tried to cause. Unfortunately, you wouldn’t be coming over to see him tonight. “Y/n,” he whispered your name as he circled his tip over the fabric, and that’s when he realized it just wasn’t going to work out, and he felt utterly ridiculous after trying to emulate you. “Why is she asleep?” He whined and flailed in his bed like a baby.

He cut his temper tantrum short, and despite not hearing his phone go off, he still checked just in case you might have left a message, but there was none.

He sighed loudly and got out of bed, going to take a cold shower to get rid of his not-so-little problem down there.

Needless to say, he didn’t get much sleep that night.

Even though he had no luck last night, he knew you were always free on Saturday nights, so there wasn’t a chance you’d be asleep, especially when it was only ten.

“Come over,” he sent the same repetitive text to you. He dropped his phone on his bed and rid himself of his clothing, getting ready for you when you came over.

Five minutes later, and he was starting to get agitated. It’s not like you had friends or anything going on, so why were you acting like you didn’t want his dick all of a sudden.

An idea popped into his head. You always came over faster when he sent you pictures of himself, so he opened the camera in his phone and pulled down the waistband of his underwear, showing a little more than the base of his cock to tease you and make you want him even more.

He took another one squeezing the outline of his cock and showing the protruding veins through the boxers he had on. There’s no way you could resist him after seeing those.

He sent them and set his phone down to the side, just waiting for your arrival.

The club music was far too loud, and you were way too drunk to even pay attention to your buzzing phone on the table as you held your throbbing head in your hands.

You were out with your best friend Sunoo, enjoying the weekend while he was in town, and it was definitely the most fun you’ve had in a while, especially when you weren’t planning your day around that thing that called himself heeseung.

You both drank a little too much and danced way too hard, but you didn’t regret a single ounce of it.

Well, until right now when you felt like you were going to pass out any minute. “Your phone is b-buzzing like crazy,” sunoo yelled to you over the blasting music, and you just looked at him for a few seconds before dropping your head back down in your hands. You couldn’t even comprehend what he had just said to you.

He was a little less drunk than you, so he picked up your phone and checked the messages just in case it was an emergency, and he almost threw up when he saw what it was. “What are you doing with this in your phone?” He tsked when you didn’t bother looking up at him.

An evil yet hilarious idea popped into his head. He figured he might as well do it because he wouldn’t remember it in the morning anyway.

Ewww🤮😷 he giggled after he sent the text.

“What are you laughing at?” You mumbled.

“Oh, nothing,” you just groaned in response, hoping that the pounding in your head would go away so you could leave soon.

Heeseung snatched his phone up, unlocking it right away, and his brows creased together in confusion. It was a message from you, but it wasn’t your usual response, and it made him a little uncomfortable.

“???” He sent back and anxiously awaited your reply.

“Why does it look like that?🤭” sunoo smiled as he hit the send button.

“Like what?🥺”

“Idk, it looks tiny and squishy.🍤”

Heeseung couldn’t control the blush that crept up his neck. He was feeling thoroughly embarrassed right now, even though he didn’t show it to you.

“Cause you’re not here to make it hard 😐 stop playing games, y/n I know you like when it grows inside your mouth 😏”

Sunoo literally gave you a death glare. He didn’t know this was what you got up to in your free time. Well, it was none of his business anyway. “Get it, I guess.”

“What?” You replied groggily, but Sunoo ignored you. You would have fought him for not paying attention to you, but you didn’t even remember what you were supposed to be angry about in the first place.

“No, and why is it so veiny?” Sunoo covered the lower half of his face as he continued to giggle uncontrollably.

Heeseung was more than confused. He thought you liked it when it was veiny. You always seemed to enjoy licking them before giving him head.

“I thought you liked that😕 guess not” he quickly unsent all the pictures, and suddenly he was feeling all self-conscious and insecure about himself.

Sunoo literally laughed out loud when he saw the attachments had been unsent.

“Shut the fuck up,” you said to Sunoo cause his laughter was literally ringing in your ears. He patted your head softly, and you just laid back down.

“Just are you coming over or not?” Heeseung texted back after that conversation. He wasn’t even sure if he could face you right now.

Sunoo giggled, and by now, you had started to sober up a bit, so he dropped the act so you both could head home soon.

“Y/n can’t make it. She’s like totally wasted right now.”

Heeseung squinted his eyes at the screen, rereading it over and over again, and no matter how many times he read it, it still didn’t make any sense.

“What do you mean y/n can’t make it? You’re literally her.”

By now, he didn’t know what the fuck was going on. This whole conversation was the weirdest thing that’s ever happened between you two.

“Oh, fuck, I forgot to tell you I’m her friend, sunoo. She’s too drunk to talk right now, but I’ll let her know you texted after I take her home.”

Heeseung was absolutely mortified. He dropped his phone out of his hands in utter horror. He can’t believe someone else saw those pictures.

No wonder those texts didn’t seem like you. He should have known something was wrong as soon as he saw the stupid puke emoji.

On the bright side, that meant that you did like his dick when it was like that, but on the other side, this friend of yours literally just saw his dick not once but twice. “Fuck” he wiped his hands over his face.

But what friend? Sunoo definitely didn’t sound like a girl's name. When did you get a friend, especially a friend, that you’d pick over getting dicked down by him?

He shook his head slightly. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t even in the mood anymore, anyway.

Another week went by of you and Sunoo clubbing cause he decided to stay with you longer than just the weekend, and you were thankful to have some company after being alone for so long.

Heeseung was still helplessly texting you every day.

For some reason, over the last couple of days, he felt weird about not hearing from you or seeing you.

He had grown accustomed to seeing you often, and your absence was definitely getting to him.

He can’t count how many cold showers he had to take when you stood him up. It had been so long since you and him had sex that he felt like his dick was going to shrivel up if you didn’t come over and wet it for him.

He knew there was no way you could avoid him, so maybe something important came up, but what did you find that you thought was more important than pleasuring him? He wondered.

“You okay?” He texted just to make sure you were alright, but when you didn’t respond, it wasn’t surprising to him anymore.

He scrolled through your socials. Maybe there’d be something in there letting him know about your recent activities.

“Someone come over here and take care of me. I’m sick,” heeseung read the caption below a picture you had taken. It was of your lower body. You were lying down in bed with rolled-up tissue paper and a tv remote beside you.

He pouted slightly at the picture. No wonder you weren’t answering him. It was cause you didn’t feel well.

You had posted that picture a few hours ago, so hopefully, you’d still be awake once he arrived at your place.

He took a quick shower and changed into some comfortable clothing before grabbing his car keys and heading to the store to buy you some medicine.

He saw a cute vase of flowers that would look good at your bedside, but he decided to skip that cause your guys' relationship wasn’t like that.

To be honest, your guy’s relationship wasn’t one where he’d come over and take care of you when you were sick either, but over the weeks, he started to miss your presence, and for some reason, he just felt like he needed to see you it was confusing to him cause he never felt that way before he never felt like he missed you.

He went to the freezer aisle and grabbed some vanilla ice cream that always made his throat feel better when he was sick, so maybe it’d help you too. He grabbed some cough syrup the nighttime one, so you could sleep the cold away, and he also bought some pills for any types of aches or pains you might be having, and the last two items he bought were, of course, soup and lotion tissues cause the regular ones hurt.

He paid for everything and got back in his car, driving to your place. It wasn’t that far, but he went a little over the speed limit so he could get there faster with the medicine.

Once he made it there, he grabbed your bag of goodies and headed up to your apartment. He looked at the apartment number, and he remembered you were number one on the floor. He knocked softly and waited at the door patiently in case it took you a while to make it to the door. To his surprise, it flung open right away, and he stood there a bit stunned when he saw someone other than you answering your door.

“Hi!” Sunoo chirped.

“Hi?” Heeseung replied, confused, and looked at the number on the door, making sure that he had the right room, and sure enough, it was the right room but the wrong person. “My apologies. I think I have the wrong number.”

“Are you looking for someone in particular?” Sunoo smiled softly, hoping he could point the confused gentleman in the right direction.

“Umm.. y/n, I haven’t been here in a while. She must have moved. Sorry for disturbing you” heeseung was ready to take his leave, but Sunoo spoke up again.

“Moved? No, she’s still here, but she’s feeling unwell,” sunoo pouted.

“Well, could I see her?” Heeseung said, feeling a bit annoyed cause what the hell was this nerd doing alone with you at your apartment?

“Who exactly are you?” Sunoo eyed him suspiciously. It was kinda odd for this unknown man to be asking for you at this time of night.

“A friend we met a while ago,” sunoo hummed.

“How come she’s never told me about you” he squinted his eyes at the stranger.

“She’s never told me about you either,” heeseung glared at the shorter male in front of him.

“Name?”

“Heeseung,” he rolled his eyes.

Sunoo shut the door and went to your room. “There’s some guy says he’s friends with you, and his name is heeseung. Does that ring any bells?”

Your eyes widened in shock after hearing what sunoo had just said.

There’s no way you heard right. You had to be hallucinating.

“Y/n?” Sunoo called you, snapping you out of your daze, and that’s when you realized you weren’t hallucinating and that this was all too real.

“No, no, no!” You said, panicked. “Don’t let him in!”

Unfortunately, it was already too late heeseung had invited himself in and was standing in your doorframe, looking you dead in the eyes, and he didn’t seem all too happy to see you despite you being the main and only reason he was there in the first place. “I’m sorry, but you have to go” Sunoo tried to grab heeseung’s arm, but he didn’t budge.

“I-it’s fine, sunoo, we’ll only be a minute” sunoo gave you an are you sure look, and you nodded weakly. “What are you doing here?” You said coldly.

“Obviously, to see you,” he said just as coldly.

You scoffed as you folded your arms. “So obvious,” you rolled your eyes. The last time he came to your place to see you was at least five months ago.

He stood there and looked at you for a while, wondering where your attitude was coming from. You usually were excited when he came over. “Who is that?” He asked, referring to the guy that answered your door. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“None of your business, just what do you want?” You replied in annoyance.

He sighed. “I saw that you were sick, so I came over,” he stated as if this was something that he did regularly. He lifted up the bag in his hand, showing it to you.

“I didn’t ask you to,” you said without looking at him.

“Can I not come to see you for once?” He chuckled dryly.

It’s not that he couldn’t come to see you. You just didn’t understand why after you cut him out of your life, he was showing up to your apartment cause you were sick. What would he care? He never showed any ounce of care for you before.

“Well, I was coming to take care of you, but I see someone else already is” his tone was laced with annoyance as he poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

You were beyond upset with him right now. What right did he have to be annoyed that you had somebody that actually cared about you and was willing to take care of you?

“And? Heeseung, I don’t get it. I stopped answering your texts because I don’t want to see you anymore. You’re nothing but a selfish asshole, and just when I try to move on from you, you show up talking about taking care of me? What the fuck is wrong with you? You know that I fucking like you, and now you pull this shit. Are my feelings just a fucking game to you?” You said what you had been thinking for a while. You didn’t mean to lash out at him, but in your fit of disbelief and rage, you couldn’t help it.

“No!” He yelled. “But apparently, mine fucking are to you.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What are you even talking about?”

“I came over 'cause I fucking c- you know what, never mind seeing how I’m nothing but an asshole to you” he clenched his jaw and slammed the bag of groceries in your trash bin before slamming your bedroom door on his way out.

Sunoo was listening by the door the whole time, and he stumbled back when heeseung barged through and bumped him out of the way with his shoulder.

Heeseung walked out of your apartment, and he made sure to slam the front door as well.

“Y/n…” sunoo walked in to see you crying softly, and he immediately wrapped you up in his arms. “Are you okay?” You shook your head no and encircled his waist in a hug as you sobbed with your head resting on his chest. “I can beat him up if you want” sunoo smiled sadly as he stroked your head.

You shook your head again, and Sunoo took the hint that you didn’t want to talk about it right now.

Being the good friend that he is, he stayed with you until you eventually fell asleep, and you were so thankful that in a time like this, you had someone like him.

Heeseung left your apartment and went to the nearest convenience store to buy himself every type of alcohol known to man.

Once he got back in his car, he opened the first bottle of beer while he drove home, downing it in one go. One turned into many, and he was already on his sixth beer once he reached home.

He went straight to his bedroom and laid down. The beer wasn’t quite strong enough to dull the pain in his chest, so he opened a bottle of liquor, drinking it like it was water. He didn’t give a fuck about how he’d feel in the morning right now. He just wanted to forget. “You’re nothing but a selfish asshole,” he chuckled as he repeated the same exact words you said to him earlier.

Worst part is he knew it was true hell. You calling him an asshole was going easy. He was every bit of a fucking loser. He was a pathetic no, good excuse for a person that played around with your feelings just cause he could. He knew you were into him for more than just sex, and instead of reciprocating your feelings, he ignored them cause somehow it was amusing to have you running over to his aid whenever he wanted.

But after those first few days without you, reality hit him like a truck, and he realized just how much he took you for granted. He accepted that after all this time, he, too, had started to feel something for you, but he didn’t want to admit it because it was easier not to and he didn’t want to make things complicated.

But now it all made sense why he felt jealous when he found out you had a guy friend, why he was nervous whenever he texted you, and why he felt scared when you didn’t answer him.

It was because he was afraid of losing you. He couldn’t believe it only took a few days of not hearing from you to make him admit to himself that he was head over heels for you, but it did.

And when he was finally ready to face the fact that he missed you and not just sex, it was too late. You’d already given up on him and moved on.

But it was better this way. That sunoo guy looked nice. He protected you and took care of you when you were unwell, and that was more than heeseung ever even thought of doing for you in the time he’s known you for.

He knew you deserved better than him, and in his drunken stupor, he convinced himself that he was happy that you found better.

FIN

@heej43 if anyone wants to be tagged in future works just let me know.

Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate each and every one of you who made it to the end. - 🐹

#heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #lee heeseung smut #enhypen #lee heeseung #smut

556 notes · View notes

misc-obeyme · 5 days

Note

would u consider obey me a dead fandom?

Um. Nope. I sure wouldn't.

If there's anybody out there who thinks Obey Me is a dead fandom, I would say they're probably confused about what a dead fandom actually is.

I think an argument could be made saying that there is no such thing as a dead fandom. But I'm going to assume you mean that fan content is at an all time low.

Friend, I have been in fandoms where the content was like... you get a fic or two every year if you're lucky. This for a media that hadn't put out any new content in decades.

Obey Me? I get an average of five asks per day about Obey Me. I can queue 10 posts per day about Obey Me. I still average over 800 notes a day on this here Obey Me blog. In the past few months, we've had new artists and writers joining the community and posting their Obey Me fan works. The game is still active and updating. There are two apps even.

So no, I personally would not consider the Obey Me fandom to be dead by any means.

It's certainly been more active in the past. I'll never forget the surge of activity that happened when Nightbringer first came out. My Solomon fics seemed to double their notes over night lol.

But we're also in a bit of a lull right now because we aren't getting new chapters. Every time an event happens, there's another burst of activity. And then things die down just a little before they surge again. That's the nature of fandom.

Another common fandom thing is people coming and going. I've been here for almost two years, but there are others who have been here for four. And then there are some people who've only been in the fandom for a couple months. And then there are the people who were here at the beginning, but have since moved on. Maybe they only stayed for a few months before moving on. Maybe they're only casually in the fandom, dipping in now and again. This is also just the nature of fandom. There's no right way to do it. And it doesn't reflect on whether a fandom is alive or dead.

Hell, we even have plenty of discourse and toxic stuff in this here fandom, too. More of that when there's nothing else to do, I think, which is unfortunate, but also kinda... just part of fandom.

And all of this is just how it is on Tumblr. I know there are active Obey Me communities on Twitter/X and Instagram, too. I'm just too old and tired to maintain that many socials. I actually have accounts on both of those apps but I rarely use them.

And lastly, I'm a big proponent of being involved in fandom no matter how active the community is. By this I mean, if I still have an Obey Me hyperfixation in ten years when the apps are closed down and nearly everybody else has moved on, I will still be here posting fic. Because I won't leave a fandom until I am ready to move on from it, dead or not. (Sometimes this can mean you are one of the few people still creating for said fandom, but you might be surprised at how many people will still enjoy what you create.)

#tl;dr this fandom is far from dead lol #my tendency to ramble is why I included the short answer at the very top #obey me #obey me nightbringer #anon asks #misc answers

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sykosugu · 1 month

Text

on the run | two

♤ summary: she's an infamous bank robber, and he's the only detective that's been able to get close to her. he was never apart of her plans. but he's got his clutches in her and she can't let go. a geto suguru au

♢ warnings: this story will contain descriptions of violence, destructive behavior, toxic behavior, illegal activities, sexual content, death. use of weapons. forbidden romance

♧ aw: violence, guns mentioned

♡ currently: completed

♤ taglist: closed

♢ wc: 3.5k

♧ carlile speaks: surprise! hi everyone! how are we? I hope we all had a great week! I had a lot of free time so we get a double update! another chapter down! aaaand chapter 3 has already been started. this one's way different than the last.. i hope everyone enjoys ♡ once you’re done here, head over to @celestie0 to read her new Choso x Reader fic! I know a special someone who might make a an appearance!

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Suguru wakes to the feeling of your arms wrapped around him from the back; sometimes he liked to be the little spoon. Mostly because he loved the feeling of your cheek pressed into his back. He felt needed when you koala’d yourself around him in the middle of the night. The night terrors you experienced years ago started coming back so you’ve been clutching to Suguru more often. Sometimes he wakes up feeling like he’s being crushed from the vice grip you have on him in your sleep. He always has to peel you from around him so he can turn in your hold to soothe you awake and talk you down.

“Hey, I’m here with you, Ru,” he coos into your hair, “C'mon pretty, wake up for me,” his hand rubs circles into the small of your back, pulling your shaking frame on top of him. Your eyes shoot open at the feeling of being moved. A “no, no, no,” leaves your lips until you realize who’s in front of you. You can't believe how safe he makes you feel, when nearly a year ago you were trying to sleep with him just to get away from him. “Shh, just me, Ru. You’re okay.”

“Sugu?” you whine, hands reaching out to feel his face to really make sure he’s here. Your heart feels as if it's about to jump out of your chest, but at the feeling of his skin against yours, you feel eased.

“Yeah, Ru, it’s me,” his other hand comes up to grip your wrist, leaning into your touch. “Just me.”

“I hate these nightmares,” your eyes begin to well with tears.

“Well, knowing someone is after you that you’ve known to be your friend is bound to mess with your head,”

“I know, Mr. Logical,” you roll your eyes at him.

“You’re in distress right now, so I'll let that one slide,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your nose. To his right, his phone starts vibrating against the surface, pulling his attention to the object. Chief Yaga’s name puts worry into his mind. “Shit,” he whispers, sitting up with you in his hold. “Let me go take this,” he says with a kiss to your forehead before he disappears into the bathroom.

You sit in your spot, sheets pulled up with your arms to cover your chest as you sit and try to listen as closely as possible.

“Good morning Chief,” you hear Suguru say. “No, sir, no progress I’m afraid,” you chuckle to yourself at his admittance. No progress my ass. He’d successfully turned you into a sappy mess for him, that was his progress. If only the chief knew that you were sitting just a few feet away from Suguru as he blatantly lied to him. “Sir, I don't think that’s necessary, I’ve got it handled.” What’s not necessary? “With all due respect sir, you’re wrong. I’m the onl–” you imagine he’d been cut off, so his blood pressure is probably through the roof. “Sir, I’m the only one who’s gotten close to her before. I can do it again. Satoru is just going to weigh me down.” What? Who’s Satoru? “Sir, I don’t think this is a good idea. Hello? Chief?” you hear the phone get set on the counter before Suguru speaks again.

“Fuck!” he yells, followed by the sound of shattering glass. The sound makes you jump. What was that? Your feet find the floor and they carry you to the bathroom before you can even think about it. You push the door open, finding Suguru standing at the sink, gripping the edge with blood trickling down his right hand. Glancing up, you see the mirror's state, completely shattered from his fist.

“Suguru?” you ask tentatively.

“I need to get you out of here,” he says, ripping himself from his spot and dragging you back into the bedroom.

“Woah, slow down. Let me look at your hand,” you reach for it, but he jerks from your hold.

“There’s no time, get dressed.” He throws the clothes of yours that were on the back of a chair at you, forcing you to catch them.

“Will you talk to me, please? You’re scaring me,” the words leaving your mouth sound shaky. He stops in his tracks, turning to look at you and taking in your appearance. The tears that are still evident in your eyes and how your body just trembles.

“I’m sorry, but there’s really no time for me to coddle you right now. I know you’re scared, and I'll explain on the way, but I need you to get dressed. Now. I’m not asking again.”

“F-fine,” you sniffle, sliding the clothes onto your body. The one suitcase you allow yourself to keep over the years was kept under your side of the bed. Sliding it from underneath, you grab your boots and your jacket before leaving the hotel room without another word. Down the hall and to the stairs before a hand grabs ahold of your shoulder.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“You said I needed to get out of there. So I’m doing you a favor. We were never going to be able to live the life we wanted, Suguru. It was always just a ticking time bomb of never knowing when it was going to go off. Well guess what? It went off,” he eyes you, tears welling in his eyes at your truth.

“I’m going to find a way to keep you safe. I’m going to. I have to,” he pleads, a hand finding your cheek to wipe your tears. “You promised you wouldn’t leave,”

“I can take care of myself, Detective. You promised me you’d never keep me in the dark,” you pull his hold from your face. “You broke that promise, so I'm breaking my promise. Don’t follow me,” with that you’re disappearing down the stairs.

“Would you stop for a second? Let me explain,” he yells after you, “Ru!” he’s hot on your trail, “Rub–Y/N, stop!” he grips you again, turning you fast and wrapping his arms around your heaving shoulders. “Stop running from me,” he begs. “I’m going to keep you safe, okay? You just have to trust me.”

“Think I trust you too much at this point,” you sniffle into his chest, your arms instinctively snaking around him, after you drop your bag to the floor. “You promised you’d keep me in the loop on things. I need communication.”

“I know, I’m sorry. C’mon, there’s not much time,” he’s ushering you back up the stairs towards the room. Once back inside, he explains while he gathers some more of the items you’d left, tossing them into a bag. “Chief Yaga is sending another Detective, Satoru, to come work the case with me. He said two years is too long for one person to spend on a single case and is tired of not getting results.” his tone sounding more and more annoyed with each leaving word. “I don't know why I'm upset, you said it yourself. It was only a matter of time.”

“You have the right to be upset, Sugu. I’m upset alongside you, but we have to do something.”

“For now, I’m just going to stay here, and you’ll be in your room down the hall. Once I have somewhere else for you to go, I’ll get you there.” He sounds frantic, almost panicked. You reach out, placing your palm between his shoulder blades. He tenses under your touch, but then immediately relaxes once your arms reach around his middle.

“Just breathe, It’ll be fine. I’ll help you gather all of my stuff so I can get down the hall, okay? We’re in this together,” your words are muffled into his back. His hands reach to rub over your arms across his waist.

“Once you’re in the room, you won’t be able to leave without some sort of signal from me. We’ll have to keep in contact on our burners.” He turns in your hold, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“I hate that I’m going to be away from you,” you whine after you bury your face into his chest, soaking in the last bit of his scent you’d be able to get for a while.

“Hey, I might be able to get Satoru to leave for a while at some point. But I know what you mean. We’ll find a way somehow, I promise. You can't promise that.

You knew what you had to do.

“Well, I can’t just stop doing my jobs again, that’ll raise red flags. Another detective shows up and I just go ghost? That’ll look bad on you. I have to keep it up, no if’s and’s or but’s about it.”

“Woah there, Ru. You have to think logically about this.” You know what? Just go along with it.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.” You know exactly what you were thinking.

Suguru helps you go through the entire hotel room, looking for any item of yours. All of your items were thrown into a bag and he walked you down to your hotel room down the hall that you’d never taken out of your name for a reason just like this. You never knew when your time was going to be up, but you just wished it wasn’t right now. You wished you could have a real chance at a real life with Suguru. Maybe in another life, you could have the life you dreamed of with him every night. The two of you laid up in the bed, his head on your chest for once, your fingers running through his hair as he hummed against your skin. Talking of the things you wanted to experience together. The countries you wanted to visit. The number of cats you wanted together. How many kids he wanted but how tentative you were about kids. He swore he was going to change your mind. Right where you wanted him.

He’d be crushed if he knew the truth.

“Satoru, what’s up man?” Suguru greets his friend as he opens the door, “Welcome to my humble abode,” he chuckles as he makes his way inside.

“It is certainly..humble,” Satoru laughs. “Why don’t I get us something better at the Hilton down the road?”

“Nah, man, I’ve been here the entire time, I’m good here,” Suguru says not wanting to leave this space he’s been sharing with you. “But by all means, if you want to, more power to you.”

“Yeah, I think I will,” he grins, setting his bag on the bed. He takes in the state of the room, the tousled sheets, and pillows on the floor. Suguru stripped the bed for housekeeping to take before Satoru got here. He didn’t want to chance any trace of you being stuck in the sheets. “Aww, you doing some spring cleaning on my account?”

“For sure,” Suguru chuckles. “Nah, I just haven’t had the sheets changed yet this week.”

“Dude, what happened to your hand?” Satoru asks, noticing the soaked bandages wrapped around his hand and wrist.

“Oh, I got pissed off the other day after I let the girl slip through my fingers again. I even knew which bank she was going to be at and I still missed her.” Suguru plays up his irritation, turning away from Satoru and gripping the back of the desk chair in the corner.

“Well, let’s go over everything you have before I go get my hotel room.” Satoru attempts to ease the tension.

Suguru waited about twenty minutes after Satoru left to come down to your room. He knocked on the door twice like you two agreed on, and he waited.

And waited.

So he knocked again.

And waited.

“Ru?” he asked through the door.

Nothing.

“Ruby?”

Nothing.

“Y/N, this isn’t funny,” he says, reaching into his pocket for the spare key to your room. He didn’t want to just barge in on you, he had some decorum. He opens the door, and he’s met with an empty room. You’re nowhere. You hadn’t even pulled the duvet down on the bed. How long have you been gone? Suguru panics. He glances around the room to see if there’s any trace of you. On the desk, he sees your burner phone and a note.

“Sugu, Our time is unfortunately up for now. We both know that. I’m sorry, but this is the only way. I know where I eventually need to go, even if it pains me to do so. Maybe I’ll see you again someday. - Your Ru.”

Hot tears stream down his face as he reads your words.

You promised..

You promised him.

What did you mean by this was the only way? He told you he’d find a way. Why couldn't you just trust him? Where were you going? He was spiraling. If he hadn’t already messed up his good hand, he’d be punching the wall. He storms back down to his room, unsure of what to do next. At least you had your gun. He knew you could protect yourself. But it still terrified him to know you were out there and he was stuck here in the unknown.

He had you.

He lost you.

Just like that.

He lost you.

A month has passed and you haven’t seen Suguru. You’re certain you’ve never felt this kind of pain before. You can hear his voice in your dreams, feel his arms around you while you sleep, but when you wake you’re alone. In the big penthouse suite at the Hilton. It’s a wonder what the hotel management is willing to do when you wave some money around.

“Thank you for calling the Hilton on Main, how can I help you?”

“Hello, I’d like to book your penthouse suite. Indefinitely.”

“Certainly, ma’am. Could I have a name for the reservation?”

“I’d like this to remain off the books please.”

“I’ll have to get a manager for this, give me one second please.” A brief pause, some elevator sounding music plays before a man gets on the phone. “Good evening ma'am, I hear we’d like to have a stay off the books?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll pay three times the rate, under the table. I would like no room service, no maid service, nothing.”

They really are willing to do a lot for money. No name on the books, a private entrance, not a single member of staff knows who you are nor have they seen you. Just how you like it.

But you have to keep doing your work

Seventy seconds, but you only need thirty.

Like clockwork.

In and and out of the bank.

A hand grips your upper arm.

You're taken off guard for two reasons. One, this is very reminiscent of when you and Suguru first met, and that’s who you are anticipating when you turn around. The second reason is because when you turn around, you’re met with a fist to your face and a knee to your gut, sending you down onto your knees. You spit the blood that pooled in your mouth out onto the ground beneath you. The bag in your hand drops to the ground. Gun. Where is your gun? Reaching behind you as you struggle to pull yourself to stand, you pull your gun from your waistband, but when you finally get clear enough vision, there’s nobody around you. Your bag is still here, but the person who attacked you is gone.

What was that about? Who was that?

You reach behind you, putting your gun back into your waistband, and picking up your bag. A piece of paper sticks to the side of your boot. It reads, “The Red Queen, beheaded for treason.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

You only have one option left. You only have one person left to go to.

Suguru has been a wreck. It’s been a month and he hadn’t heard from you in any way. He knew you remembered his cell number on both of his phones so if you really needed him, you’d make it known. Satoru has been acting strange lately as well. Noticing more of Suguru’s negative moods whenever they’d talk about you. His evident irritation at the mention of your name. He was proud of you of course for keeping up on your scores and taking care of yourself, but he missed you terribly and just wanted to see you–hold you–one more time.

“Dude, you good? You’ve been on edge since I joined you a month ago,” Satoru prods at him. Suguru had been sitting in the passenger side seat of Satoru’s car as they made their way to the bank you’d just hit. A sliver of hope in his brain that you’d still be there, but he knows it’s a pointless thought. He grips the door so hard his knuckles are turning white. He just wants one glimpse of your face. That’s all he’s asking for.

“Fine,” he huffs, throwing the cruiser door open and stepping out.

They survey the scene, taking all records of everyone's account inside the bank. Of course nobody saw anything, the manager couldn't get a look at your face because of the glasses. All he could see was your red lipstick and that smile as you spoke. Suguru could imagine your face, your laugh as the man before him described what he could remember about you. He grins as he realizes just how good you are at your “job”, thinking about how proud he is of you. How proud he, a detective, is proud of you, a criminal. He’s actually going insane over you. He’s willing to throw away every oath he ever took for you. You have him wrapped around your finger and he liked it.

“Think she got someone outside,” Satoru says, making his way over to Suguru.

“What do you mean?”

“Found a splatter of blood on the steps out front,” he pulls his phone out of his pocket, flipping it around to show him. Suguru’s face pales.

And Satoru notices.

No, no, no. That better not be yours. You’d better be okay. Suguru will have whoevers head if that is yours. He needed to find you again.

Now.

The pair of detectives make their way back to the Suguru’s hotel room, to add the photos they took, and their notes to their wall of evidence.

Satoru is the first one to notice. Maid service had been here, and they obviously found a shirt of Suguru’s that he’d been hiding. A white dress shirt covered in lipstick prints all over the collar.

Red lipstick prints

Is that why he’d been so on edge? Had he been lying to Satoru all along? Another mental note he keeps for later.

“Oh, guess the maids finally thought you needed some help,” Satoru jokes, gesturing towards the made beds and the shirt laying on the edge. He follows Suguru’s gaze, watches as his eyes widen and face turns as white at the piece of clothing as he looks at it. The shirt he’d kept under his pillow so he had some way of sleeping close to you, since it was the only thing he had that reminded him of you. He’s gotta shake it off. Suguru picks up the shirt and chuckles.

“Haha, I thought I'd gotten rid of this. A man gets lonely sometimes ya know? She ruined my shirt,” he says as he tosses it in the trash can, knowing he’ll take it out once Satoru leaves the room.

“Ohhoho, a man does have needs,” Satoru laughs. “Send her to my room next time,” he’s trying to keep up with Suguru’s story but it's getting harder to live with knowing his friend is lying to him.

“For sure, I’ll send her to the penthouse at the Hilton for you later tonight.”

“While I appreciate the sentiment, I wasn't able to get the penthouse, I guess some VIP is staying there indefinitely.” Satoru sighs, clearly annoyed at the memory. Suguru’s ears perked up. Of course you’re in the penthouse. Why didn't he think of that to begin with?

“Poor rich boy doesn't get the penthouse, whatever will you do?” Suguru teases him.

“Cry about it some more, probably,” he jokes. “Speaking of, I’m due for a cry myself to naptime session, so I’ll be going to my non-penthouse room now,” he says rolling his eyes. Satoru grabs his briefcase and heads towards the door. “G’night, Detective,” the tone of his voice almost serving as a reminder that Suguru is in fact a cop.

“See you tomorrow, Satoru.”

Suguru waits about an hour before he does probably the dumbest thing he’s ever done. Stepping out of the elevator, and into the hallway he makes his way to the double doors at the end. “Penthouse Suite” reads on the gold plaque on the wall.

Once he reaches the door, he knocks twice.

Just like you agreed.

♡ tags: @celestie0 @lostfracturess @carlacujo @alwaysfreakingout @shervinss @jaelahh @gojolvrr34 @shesplendl @phoenix-eclipses @nanasukii28 @mylifetold @bakuhoethotski @4y3sh4 @whereflowerswenttodie

#geto suguru #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #jjk geto #geto smut #jjk suguru #suguru geto smut #geto x y/n #jujutsu geto #geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #geto #suguru geto #suguru x reader #suguru geto x you #geto x you #suguru geto x reader

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bg-brainrot · 8 months

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Hello, I am writing Astarion fanfic with no signs of stopping 👋

Note: All Astarion x Tav, all written with gender-neutral pronouns and from second-person POV. Will continue to update this! This blog is all BG3 + Astarion

Love at First Knife

Rogue!Tav and Spawn!Astarion

This series is based on my double-rogue playthrough. Tav is an assassin rogue, chaotic neutral, chooses mostly good options but a ton of options just for the laughs or the money. Astarion remains unascended. Everyone shows up sooner or later, though main group includes Karlach and Shadowheart.

The Trap is Set: Two 8 strength rogues get stuck and need to wait for rescue; one of those rogues doesn't like being trapped underground

Failed a Dex Save and Fell for You: the gang plays Truth or Dare and Tav starts to realize their feelings

Healing Threads: Astarion is an expert at embroidery -- Tav finds this out through an injury. They later find out *why* he’s such an expert

The Night They Slept Together: Tav pines, and their relationship with Astarion shifts ever so slightly. (They literally do just sleep) [Tumblr]

One Small Bedroll, Two Confused Hearts: oh no, one bed! But both Astarion and Tav are scared to admit they're catching real feelings

Failed Every Insight Check and Fell all the Harder: Astarion POV, he begins feeling some new feelings. It's only after Moonrise Towers that he can put a name to them. [Tumblr]

Stolen Hearts: Tav "picks" Astarion over Karlach (Tav and Karlach were never really together but oh well, semantics)

NEW! To be Known: Astarion reads a book and wonders what it means to be known. [Tumblr]

A Stolen Moment: Tav and Astarion are on a thief date

The Rogues that Slay Together Stay Together: Tav goes down protecting Astarion, Astarion has never been this worried

A Pair of Penguin Pebblers: Both Astarion and Tav love stealing, they steal through a shopping episode and go on a date afterward

The Smut Peddlers of Sharess' Caress: the group finds smut written about Astarion and Tav [Tumblr]

A Bad Counterfeit: Tav is replaced by a doppelganger and Astarion immediately notices something's wrong, some angst as he comes to term with being a "hero"

Hugs for a Vampire: Rogue!Tav and Astarion's romance as told through hugs [Tumblr Masterlist]

More than Vampiric Charms: After some banter between Jaheira and Astarion goes too far, Rogue!Tav reassures Astarion [Tumblr]

Would You Still Love Me?: Rogue!Tav asks the question everyone wants to know the answer to "would you still love me if I was a worm?" [Tumblr]

Of Bets, Bluffs, and Briefs: The gang plays strip poker, though it seems like not everyone (Astarion) is playing by the rules [Tumblr]

Brawls Fair in Love and War: What starts out as a scuffle turns into a full out tavern brawl for the gang [Tumblr]

Alone in a Crowded Camp: Astarion reflects and realizes that company isn't so bad. [Tumblr]

Their First Winter Together: Astarion and Rogue!Tav enjoy a lot of winter firsts in this fluff-filled extravaganza [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12]

Unraveling Plan Meet Immeasurable Insecurity: Tav tries their damnedest to propose, only to be rebuffed by Astarion at every single turn. [Tumblr]

(smut) The Thousandth Time: Astarion and Rogue!Tav make love for the thousandth time. In a bathtub. [Tumblr]

Random post-game rogue!Tav headcanons

A Star in the Dark

Evil!Dark Urge and Ascended!Astarion

Evil!Dark Urge and Astarion have a tumultuous relationship, make dubious choices, and become a power couple. *This playthrough scares me so I'll update this sporadically hah

(smut) In My Head: Dark Urge has an all new kind of daydream after Astarion approaches them

(smut) A Bloody Sacrament: Astarion licks Dark Urge clean after they bathe in a pool of blood [Tumblr]

Other

Tav x Astarion fics that don't belong to a series

IN PROGRESS When He's all but Forgotten How to Love Again: Elf-Tav reincarnation story, they dream of him in their reverie, and go out to find him once they reach maturity [Tumblr Masterlist]

IN PROGRESS The Consequences of Convenience: Tav enters a marriage of convenience with their unromanced, best friend Astarion-- feelings ensue.

Spicy Astarion Headcanons (both A!A and Spawn!A)

Horny Astarion Headcanons (both A!A and Spawn!A)

If you're looking for some more fics, check out my fic recs here!

If you're wondering which Hozier songs fit which pairings, check them here!

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3

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ellewritesalright · 8 months

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Second Best - Part 3

Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Part 1 - Part 2

A/N: Hello! Look at me with two updates in one month, who'd have thought? Buckle in for this one, it's twice as long as the last part. Once again, I hope it is coherent enough :) and again, I gave the mc reader a last name :)

Synopsis: When you were a child, the Lantsov king and queen arranged for their second son to marry you, a rich Ravkan noble family's only daughter. After many years, after all the destruction of the war, and after Nikolai was crowned king, Nikolai breaks off the engagement. But the complications of your past and your strict parents make it a nightmare to find a new fiance, so Nikolai promises to help you, yet he slowly realizes the mistake he's made.

Warnings: strict and low-key abusive parents, very slight self-image issues because of said parents, mentions of illness and death, kinda confusing and purposefully ambiguous details that will be important later in the story (bear with me please), not 100% proofread

Word Count: 4670

..........

Being without a fiance was an unfortunate circumstance. All your life you had witnessed young women like you being paraded around in hopes that they would find suitors even richer than their families, but because the Antonovs had made their deal with the king and queen so long ago, you never had to participate in such dreadful activities. In the past month since your disbanded engagement, you had attended three large gatherings and hosted many more as your parents frantically searched for someone worthy enough to marry into the family.

As you wound down for the evening, feet killing you and your head a bit buzzed from all the wine of another party, you slunk over to your vanity. After removing your makeup, you reached into the top drawer, trailing your fingers across its ceiling where you'd tacked a letter. It had arrived in the morning, after breakfast when you were by yourself in the library. But you'd yet to read it, too busy with your parents' antics to hide away and comb through the words. With a brief admiration of the double-eagle seal, you grabbed your letter opener and cut it open.

The handwriting was long and there were lovely loops in the 'p's and 'g's; you smiled to yourself as your eyes followed their rounded paths. Nikolai was always perfectly composed, and so were his letters. This was the third one you'd received, and he wrote of more possible suitors for you. There were some more details about his day-to-day in response to a few light-hearted queries you had posed in your last response. When he asked for embellishment on your ideas of mechanical updates at your family's estate you were so eager to start drafting your response that you almost tipped over your ink canister.

He had also requested that you assess the suitors recommended in his previous letter, and you frowned as you rated them.

Each one was well-bred and richer than the last, but none felt right. There was always something wrong with them, like wandering eyes, or a terrible way of spitting when speaking, or one suitor who had kissed your hand so sloppily you thought a hickey would form. They were all unattractive in their own ways, and you wrote as much in your letter to the king. In your closing, you made sure to thank him again for looking out for you. It was too kind of him.

At the end of this most recent letter, he said that he enjoyed playing matchmaker. Apparently, it was a brief and welcome reprieve from the hard topics of war and politics. If he wasn't exaggerating this fact, your thanks would likely mean nothing to him, but you thanked him nonetheless.

You grazed a finger across his signature at the bottom of his letter. Yours truly, Nikolai.

If your hand had not reached up to your mouth in a moment of contemplation, you might have missed the smile that etched itself onto your lips, but the shape of it was unmistakable beneath your touch. You banished that smile and went to bed, trying to banish Nikolai from your mind as well, but finding it more than a little difficult. The swooping lettering of Yours truly was printed on the inside of your eyelids.

……….

“How did you enjoy the first act of the ballet, Lord and Lady Antonov?”

Your head twisted around to see Nikolai standing at the doorway to your family’s opera box. Your father politely stood from his seat and bowed to the king while you and your mother bowed your heads. You softly grinned at Nikolai, keeping your excitement measured in front of your parents.

“It was overdone,” your mother replied.

“Quite,” nodded your father.

“I think it is rather lovely so far,” Nikolai said. He looked at you. “And your thoughts, my lady?”

You looked up at your friend. “I think it is overdone, yet charmingly so. I rather enjoyed the dance with the foxes; the dancers all moved remarkably like canines."

Nikolai grinned and nodded. "That has also been my favourite part so far."

"And the sets are just magnificent."

"Aren't they?"

You both smiled at one another for a moment. A moment that was broken by your father clearing his throat.

"What brings you to our box, your highness?" Your father asked.

Nikolai looked over at him, smiling politely. "I was actually coming to introduce a friend of mine to your family." Nikolai gestured to the door, and you noticed a man about ten years your senior standing there that you hadn't noticed when Nikolai walked in. "This is Lord Alexei Alianovic. Alexei, this is Lord and Lady Antonov and their daughter."

Lord Alexei bowed to you and your parents. "It is a pleasure to meet you, lord and Lady Antonov." He smiled at you. "And you, my lady. His highness has told me much about you."

"All good things I hope," you said with a gentle expression as you glanced between him and Nikolai. The king had a small smirk on his lips as he looked back at you.

"Quite," Alexei nodded.

"Alianovic? You're Lord Dmitri Alianovic's son?" Your father asked him.

"I am, sir."

Your mother looked pleased, which couldn't bode well for you.

Your mind quickly cycled through everything you knew about the Alianovics, trying to find something wrong. The Alianovics were wardens of a large stretch of southern Ravka. But Lord Dmitri was rather old and would likely die in a short manner of years, leaving his entire estate to his heir, Alexei. The Alianovics were an old and reputable Ravkan family too, with a few blood ties to the royal family from many decades back; Alexei would be Nikolai's very distant cousin, then.

Looking between him and Nikolai again, you could see no resemblance. Not in hair colour, eye colour, face shape, bone structure, or even stature. Lord Alexei was tall and lanky, with chestnut hair and dark brown eyes and a charming mustache. Nikolai was also younger by about ten years. Still, Alexei was decently handsome for a suitor.

While lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice how your parents had seemed to step closer to Alexei like a pair of vultures.

"I should give my condolences for your loss, Lord Alexei," your father suddenly said. You didn't like the calculation in his brow. "What a terrible thing it is to lose the person you love."

Alexei's expression drooped a bit. "Thank you, lord Antonov."

"It is a great tragedy that your daughter will grow up without her mother," Lady Antonov said to him.

That's rich, coming from you, you thought to yourself as you held back a scoff.

You looked between your parents and Alexei, who was growing paler by the second. Now that they mentioned it, you remembered that the Alianovic heir was a young widower with a little daughter. His wife had died in some horrible horse riding accident.

"Ana is too young to know any different," Alexei said sadly. "Though sometimes it seems like she misses her mother."

You somberly clasped your hands together and offered him a sympathetic look. Unlike your scheming parents, you truly did feel for him.

"It can't be easy to raise a young child on your own, but I am sure you're giving her the best life you can," you smiled softly.

"I've seen him with little Ana; there is no father more attentive and caring than Alexei," Nikolai said. Alexei bowed his head a bit at the compliments.

"Ah, but what life is it for a young girl to live without a mother?" Lady Antonov spoke up again. You nearly glared at her blatant attempt at setting you on this poor man. "When I think of all the things I have taught my own daughter, I can't imagine a man ever understanding what it's like. My daughter knows how close a bond can grow between mothers and daughters--knows how important that relationship is--don't you, my dear?"

She cast you a look; a warning and a warm smile and a quick condescension all rolled into one.

You nodded, holding back the bitter taste that jumped into your throat. You tore your eyes from her to look over at Alexei again.

"I feel for your Ana in what she has lost." You expressed all your empathy as you spoke to him. "The pain of losing a mother is unimaginable… losing someone so important in life, especially as a child, isn't easy for anyone."

Your mother stiffened a touch. Your father did too.

"But you sound like an excellent father to Ana. You should be proud." You softly smiled at him.

Alexei nodded at your words. "Thank you, my lady. You are very kind."

"And you are very patient to have weathered my parents' barrage of questions."

Nikolai almost snorted at your joke. Your parents did not have the same reaction. For a brief second, you saw their anger; then they forced a laugh, playing off your words.

"You'll find our daughter is quite spirited at times, Lord Alexei," Lady Antonov commented. She was still saving face after you'd insulted her and your father.

"I don't mind it," Alexei chuckled quietly. "She has the same humour as my late wife did."

Your parents began engaging Alexei in a real conversation, and Nikolai took the moment to slowly step up beside you.

"Saints, your parent's methods are brutal," he murmured so only you could hear. "Your mother especially."

"Tell me about it." You restrain from rolling your eyes.

Nikolai let his volume grow just slightly as his words became innocuous again. "I'm going to the shore tomorrow."

"As in the shore of the true sea? How long will that take?" You raised a brow.

"My envoy will be gone for a full month. But I promise to write to you." He smiled then grew quiet again. "Can't leave you completely alone with these maniacs, now can I?"

You almost laughed.

Bells outside your opera box signaled that the show was about to continue, so Nikolai and Alexei took their leave. The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. At least, until you got into the carriage going home.

"It was good of that impish king to introduce you to Lord Alexei," Lady Antonov began. "He stands to inherit quite a large title from his father, you know."

You nodded then rested your head against the carriage's side wall. "I know, mother."

"Stop slouching," she huffed.

"It is just us three, mother."

"I don't care. You will sit up straight, you stubborn little girl." Her eyes were hard.

You glanced at your father beside you. You were searching for a shred of support from him since sometimes he would not leave you to fight her alone. But tonight he did not offer even a glance in your direction. He just stared boredly at the darkness outside his window.

Your eyes crossed to hers again. Your hand began itching as you sat up straight.

"That's better, daughter of mine." Her hands folded on her lap. "You nearly ruined things tonight."

"Ruined what? Lord Alexei liked me," you said, holding back an eye roll.

"You nearly told him. And the king."

You pursed your lips, scratching at a dotted scar on your knuckle. "I did not."

"You were quite close to it."

"I was not."

"You spoke of loss."

"So?" You sighed heavily. "I was sympathizing with Lord Alexei--and in case you didn't notice, he liked me better for it."

The carriage arrived home and you stepped out before the chauffeur could open the door for you. You hurried inside, heading upstairs to your suite rooms. But Lady Antonov was hot on your tails.

"Stop, dear," she commanded.

You did not stop. You kept climbing the stairs. But she grabbed your arm before you could get inside your room.

"You're a little ingrate, girl, but fortunately you're still my daughter. And as my daughter, you will shut up and do what I tell you to do and say what I tell you to say."

Her hand tightened on your arm. Her voice was low, but sharp as a hound's bite.

"If I tell you to jump, you'd better be in the air. If I tell you to keep your mouth shut about your beginnings, you'd better sit silently with a pleasant smile on your face and remember how lucky you are to be where you are."

Her other hand went to grip your chin. You could feel her nails dig into your face ever so slightly.

"Do you understand me, daughter?" She hissed.

You nodded, and her grip tightened on your chin.

"I want to hear you say it, girl."

"I understand, mother." You grit out

She kept you locked there for a moment longer, then she let go of you. "Go to bed. You look unkempt."

You said nothing as you went into your room and shut the door behind you. You held it together until you got to your bed, then you fell apart. You clamped a hand over your mouth to staunch the sobs as tears poured over onto your cheeks.

……….

A month passed by slowly. You were paraded around by your parents, your mother in particular, to every party and gathering among nobles and high-ups in Os Alta. Each outing was more miserable than the last.

You would dance and drink, and dance and drink, and dance and drink, while your mother plotted conversations and chance encounters with any man she deemed suitable. She had a knack for finding the richest man in the room; no wonder she had married your father all those years ago.

Tonight was one such night like all the rest. Though tonight you promised yourself to abstain from drinking. The hangover after your last outing with your parents had confined you to your bed for half the day, and you needed to keep sharp for tomorrow. Nikolai was returning home from the western shore to a small celebratory dinner at the Grand Palace. He sent an invitation to you with your usual letters, though you could hardly describe them as usual.

What started with Nikolai's quest to find you a suitor had developed into a weekly correspondence that did not stop even as he traveled the country on kingly duties. In fact, your most recent letters from him only contained a couple of names for you to consider. You had written that he must be giving up hope, and he replied that he was vetting potential husbands based on the critiques you had given so far–of which there were plenty to pull from, he mused.

Lady Antonov extended a glass of bubbly to you but you shook your head. She rolled her eyes and took your hand, wrapping your fingers around the stem of the glass

"Drink and socialize," she ordered.

"I have the king's dinner tomorrow, mother," you told her.

She suppressed a frown, lowering her voice in case she said anything treason-worthy. "I don't care about that lousy boy and his dinner. General Halinsky was good enough to invite us this evening and I won't have you sulking in the corner. Now, go make nice with all the soldiers. And look for a myriad of medals on their chests, dear. Don't settle for one or two."

With her instructions in your head, you walked about the room, slipping in and out of conversations with ease. The older men all wore many honourable medals pinned to their jackets, and the younger ones wore few. Conversation flowed better with the young men, while the older men spoke of things that had no bearing in your life. They laughed about old missions across the fold and complained about the decline of the nation. You tried to boost this perception, saying how you believed in the king's abilities, but they were quick to dismiss you.

"King Nikolai is too involved in the first army," the evening's host, General Halinsky, griped. "The old king used to leave the commanding to real commanders, but our boy king thinks he can boss us all around just because his daddy got him a few medals and promotions during his time as a soldier."

You took the opportunity to defend him. "His highness earned those promotions on the battlefield. He--"

"He made major by 17. I made major by 23. The boy obviously had help from his father."

"What an unfortunate and incorrect assumption on your part, General," you said with a bright smile, the kind of smile that these men expected to see from a young woman like you. "His highness got the promotion at 17 because he was obviously better at the job than you ever were."

You walked off after that, absorbing yourself in a discussion between two younger soldiers of the benefits of first and second army mingling. You sipped on your drink and politely smiled back at Halinsky anytime you felt his eyes driving into the side of your head. You upset the host, and your mother was guaranteed to be livid, but you couldn't care less. If defending Ravka's king made people upset, then maybe they deserved to be upset.

One of the young soldiers you were speaking to was laughing at your mediocre jokes with the fervour of a dog playing fetch. Only two medals were pinned to him, and you pitied his efforts in this losing battle. He seemed nice enough, but nice isn't a quality your mother would forgive two medals for. Rich would do better, but he lacked the obnoxious refinement to be truly wealthy.

Your father permitted you to go home early after you sweetly lied and said you had a terrible headache. You didn't see your mother's face as you left, but you were sure she'd be furious. It was her thought that you were more salable when you were there to be paraded around. Without you present, any talks of you would be diminished.

Still, you were in no mood to stay.

By the time you were in your carriage travelling home, you felt exhausted. With a sour taste in your mouth, you thought about how this was yet another outing that proved unsuccessful. Not a single one of the men you'd met merited any sort of consideration.

While you normally would have written to Nikolai or read one of his letters after a night like this, you didn't have anything to write which couldn't be said to him at his dinner. You would speak with him then, and all would be right.

……….

Dinner was four courses of quick conversation and good-natured travel stories, and you enjoyed every second of it. You were sat with one-third of the Grisha triumvirate to your left and a West Ravkan captain Nikolai brought back with him on your right. You were one of the only guests not part of the first or second army, and you could count on one hand the number of guests middle-aged or older. It was a young and well-versed group Nikolai pulled together.

As the king and one of his long-time first army friends recalled an embarrassing moment in their training to the eager ears of a heartrender and several first army soldiers, you turned to David, asking him about his recent work. He had your complete attention as he described a sort-of rocket launcher that was meant to couple with an inferni’s abilities.

The captain on your other side joined your conversation at this point, and he maintained a puzzled look in his eyes as he tried to figure out the schematics of David’s new contraption. You had to admit, the captain was easy on the eyes, with a decent jawline and an endearing batch of freckles on his face. You suspected that Nikolai didn't have a singular focus of politics when bringing him to Os Alta. Based on your limited conversation over dinner, the captain met all of your criteria thus far; he was handsome, conversational, and he had a sweet disposition that hadn't been spoiled by the hardship he'd endured in war.

Though you still had to wonder what kind of financial situation he was in; your mother considered anyone with less than two villas a pauper, so she had high standards when it came to the wealth of a suitor. You doubted that whatever amount of wealth the captain had would suffice.

Some of the Grisha returned to the Little Palace after dinner, but most of the guests stuck around. Those who remained were directed to the drawing room after dinner, and you followed after the group, slowing your steps as you travelled through the gallery. Your eyes wandered the portraits and landscapes, closely following every brushstroke.

You halted completely when you looked up at a picture of the royal family. In this depiction, Nikolai was about the same age as he was when you first met him. A frown encroached on your lips as you stared at the oil painting. To think you might have married him. You might have walked past this painting for the rest of your life, but you let your resentment at your parents bubble over and you sided against them in the argument of your engagement. Now it didn't look like you would find anyone to marry.

"You'd better hurry or the brandy will be gone," Nikolai said as he sidled up beside you, a good-natured smile on his lips.

"Then it's good I'm not known to drink brandy."

He grinned. “So you’ve chosen to admire the gallery, then?”

“Correct,” you said as you pointed at a painting of a harbour. “I don’t understand how artists do it. How they can commit the real world to canvas like that.”

“You’re quite the artist yourself,” he said with a small smirk. You gave him a confused look and he chuckled again. “That drawing that you sent with your second last letter? Of the stuffed bear you had as a child?”

You rolled your eyes. “I only drew that because you expressly commanded a sketch of him after I briefly mentioned him in a letter."

“Well, I wished to know what this beloved bear looked like,” he playfully defended. “You can’t blame me for that. Besides, it was a lovely drawing.”

“That sketch was abysmal; I’m no artist,” you sighed.

“I thought it was a perfectly charming drawing of… remind me of the bear’s name again?”

You huffed softly. “Viktor.”

“Yes. Viktor.”

"I called him Vik."

“And who gave you Vik?”

“A friend,” you answered truthfully, despite how much you knew you should lie.

“A friend,” echoed Nikolai. “Was he a brown bear?”

“No, he was grey.”

“Grey? That is rather unusual,” he grinned. “And, let me guess, you were so attached to Vik that you took him all the way with you to Ketterdam and back as a little travel companion."

Your heart raced. You shouldn’t be telling him more about this. You sighed and scratched the back of your hand. The tiny dotted scar on your knuckle itched like nothing else as your thumb soothed over it.

"Actually, no. We parted ways many years ago when I was five. Firepox spread through our household and I fell ill with it. Once it ran its course and I recovered my parents insisted that all my toys should be burned for risk of future infection."

He frowned softly. "That's too bad."

"It is," you admitted quietly.

A moment of quiet settled in the tall gallery as you both stood there. It was a sad memory you’d just divulged, and a memory that your parents would rake you across the coals for if they knew you’d told him. Still, a part of you was glad to tell him that. You rarely thought about the artifacts of your childhood, let alone voiced their ghostly memories.

Nikolai turned to face the painting nearest to you both. His eyes softened on the portrait of his family.

"That was the last portrait ever painted of my family all together like that. We sat for it only a couple of months before I left for school."

"That was around the same time we first met.”

“We met as infants, I believe,” he said, looking at you again.

You straightened out a bit. “Right. I suppose we did."

"Our second meeting, then. Do you remember it?" He gave a charming smile.

You rolled your eyes at the memory. "How could I forget? Lady Antonov made me wear a frilly monstrosity of a dress. It was ghastly."

"I will concede that you looked a bit like a puff pastry," he chuckled. His eyes scanned over the deep purple gown you wore now. "You seem to have developed a better sense of style since then; your gown this evening is quite lovely."

"Thank you," you said softly. Your hands clasped together again as you scratched at the apex of your first knuckle. "If I remember correctly, you barely spoke to me when we met all those years ago."

"I was fourteen, I probably didn't have much to say anyway," he shrugged.

"I don't believe that for a second."

Nikolai stared at you for a moment. It was hard to say if it was his kingly presence or the softness of his hazel eyes that had your chest constricting a bit.

"You want the truth?" He quietly asked, a tiny smile playing on his lips.

"Yes,” you nodded.

"I was afraid to make a fool of myself in front of you. I figured that the less I said, the less I could mess up."

He sounded like a boy as he spoke. His voice was vulnerable and young at that moment, a stark contrast to his broad, regal frame. Outwardly, he presented as a proud and strong figure, but on the inside, there was a youth and inexperience to his words.

"I was always afraid of messing up too. My parents were so insistent about our engagement. To them, I had to be perfect to keep our engagement intact," you quietly confessed. "If I knew we wouldn't end up married I would have stopped trying to be perfect for them a long time ago."

He pursed his lips as his eyes flitted to your hands for a second. You forced your itching fingers to be still, clamping them over your irritated skin.

"I'm sorry for any discomfort you might have endured from your parents since I broke it off. It can't be easy for you."

"I'm used to it." You gave a wry smile. Then you attempted a joke, “Finding a new fiancee is considerably harder than I thought, though.”

“So I've heard,” he chuckled slightly.

“Maybe my expectations are too high, but every suitor is too much of one thing, not enough of another. It’s an impossible task.”

“I take it that you weren’t charmed by Captain Balandin, then?”

You sighed. “He’s better than most. Kinder, younger, and more handsome than the men my mother pushes me towards, but I don’t know if he’s eligible.”

“He is single if you’re concerned,” Nikolai said as he furrowed his brows.

You shifted on your feet a bit as your face warmed. “This is going to sound incredibly greedy, but is he two villas kind of rich?”

“Two villas? Saints, no. The man is a soldier. He has a modest house in Os Kervo and a less modest apartment here in Os Alta. Otherwise, he travels around with the army.”

“Then my parents would never approve.” You let out an exhale. “Things are looking bleaker, Nikolai.”

“Don’t despair. You’re young, beautiful, clever, and you have an incredible fortune to your name,” he said half jokingly. “I am sure that there are plenty of suitors who meet your lengthy list of requirements.”

“Really? Where?” you groaned softly. You smiled slightly at him, glancing at the other end of the gallery. “I think I'll take that brandy now."

He offered you his arm and escorted you back to the other guests.

..........

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment if you want to read more, I really appreciate the feedback! If you want to be tagged in the other parts of this series or to be added to the Nikolai taglist please comment on this part or send me an ask. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

Masterlist

Taglist:

@xceafh @rhaenyrakryze @thecrowsgambit @nghtwngs @hauntedenthusiasttragedy @stuffyownswrld @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @angie-likes-to-read @take-me-to-ny @historianthesecond @lunamadhatter99 @lareinaa007 @folklorde24 @a-candle-maker @elicheel @charmingpatronus

Nikolai Taglist:

@sweet0pia-uwu @notoakay @naushtheaspiringauthor @liter4ti @marchingicenotes7 @eyeofthestorm

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x fem!reader #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov fic #grishaverse fanfic #second best

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little-golden-age · 1 year

Text

Double-Take | Bucky Barnes

DOUBLE TAKE📸 Photographer!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Your photographer boyfriend Bucky watches you doing your yoga routine one morning and gets ✨inspired✨

Word Count: ~1,800

Warnings: smut 18+ (minors DNI), Insatiable Bucky, Oral (f receiving) PinV, Praise Kink, Bucky being hot? idk. A/N: my first (and probably only) fic. I love reading domestic-ish Bucky fluff + smut. This concept popped into my head and I couldn’t find one to read, so I wrote one.

It was a crisp spring morning in Brooklyn. You had just finished making some tea to start the day when you noticed the warm light streaming in through the window. It was perfect out! You took a sip of your drink and sighed in contentment, making your way to your yoga mat spread out in the living room. You always enjoyed getting a morning stretch in. Maintaining a regular yoga practice helped to ease your mind and ground yourself to start the day. Your boyfriend, Bucky, rarely joined you in your movements but he loved your daily practice too, for slightly different reasons.

As you walked past the couch you greeted him with a soft peck. He watched intently as you lowered yourself onto the mat and began moving through cat and cow pose, golden light tracing over your curves. You were wearing that tight little short set that he loved and your hair was pulled back into a delicate braid, small wisps dusting beautifully over your temples. You looked angelic–especially from this angle.

“See something you like, Barnes?” Pausing your routine to look up at him. Your tone was flirty, soft eyes never leaving his as you maneuvered yourself into a particularly appealing pose. Hearing nothing in return but still feeling his eyes on you, you called out to him again. “Why don’t you take a picture Buck, it’ll last longer” you chimed sarcastically, but Bucky didn’t hesitate. Letting out a small chuckle, he quietly darted over to his camera collection, grabbing a small polaroid model off of the shelf. "Ask and you shall receive, darlin’.”

Bucky found photography as his creative outlet shortly before you met him. He loved describing his photographs to you, what attracted him to each subject. How one photo could capture a single moment in time but still tell a thousand stories all at once. Eventually, other galleries and media outlets caught onto his work too and it became his career. You were so proud of him, you loved his work. Sometimes you even joked that he loved his cameras more than he loved you but you both knew deep down that you were Bucky’s one true muse. A few of his portraits of you even made it into some galleries, but he kept a special collection of photos just for himself to look back on with fondness.

Bucky came bounding back into the room, camera in hand and you couldn’t help but giggle. His excitement was palpable and adorable, you figured you’d humor him for a while. Tracking him through side glances, you watched as he moved around your body slowly appreciating the shapes and curves you created with each pose. The faintest sheen of sweat causing your skin to sparkle in the morning sunlight.

There was always a satisfying sense of calm with Bucky. You felt comfortable with him from the day you met. After your first date walking through the exhibits at the Whitney, you two became inseparable. He showed you his favorite parts of the city, you kept him updated on arts and culture. Bucky’s friends became your friends, your friends adored him and after just a few months you decided to move in together, finding the perfect light-filled loft.

Throughout getting to know each other, and especially when christening your new place, you couldn’t help but notice that Bucky was particularly insatiable when it came to you. Ever the gentleman, your pleasure was important to him and he always treated your body like a work of art; which is why you were quick to notice the not-so-subtle bulge growing in his pants as you moved through a series of hip openers on your mat. You smiled to yourself, teasing him a little as you continued to work through your routine as if nothing was happening. You didn’t miss how his breath caught slightly when you twisted into a particularly suggestive position–Compass Pose, his favorite. It was over for him whenever you did it.

Unable to keep his hands to himself any longer, Bucky set his camera down and stepped closer to you. Kneeling behind you, he ran one hand along your thigh and grazed your exposed ankle with his lips, landing a soft kiss just above your achilles. “Buck.” You warned slyly, “You have that call with the gallery in 15 minutes, don’t start something you can’t finish, Barnes.”

You lowered your leg away from him with a wink but he simply wasn’t listening. Moving you onto your back, Bucky basically had you pinned now--exactly where you wanted him if you were being honest. Tongue jutting out to wet his lips as slate blue eyes zeroed in on your supple mouth, he leaned down until your noses nearly touched.

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart. You know--I bet I could devour your sweet little pussy right here on this mat and still be ready for that call in time.”

Your heart rate spiked as he looked right at you, pupils blown wide. You felt yourself clench around nothing as a tender silence fell over the room. A cocky grin that rivaled the cheshire cat spread across Bucky’s face as he advanced on you, fingers caressing your partially exposed thigh. “Are you going to be a good girl for me, hm? Let me make you feel good?”

You nodded slowly, never breaking eye contact as he pulled your soft shorts down your legs, planting kisses in his wake. Bucky’s eyebrow raised slightly as he noted your lack of underwear. Moving swiftly, his soft tongue finds your already dripping core, placing perfectly timed strokes up your folds and over your sensitive bud as you panted in ecstasy.

“Already so wet for me, prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” Deep, powerful moans left Bucky’s mouth as you pulled at his hair rode his face, taking everything you had to give him.

“P-please Buck. More. Want t-to feel you.” you chanted breathlessly.

Bucky sat up, “Yeah baby?” He grinned slyly. “You feeling needy this morning, huh? Want my cock in you?” All you could do was nod as he moved you both up from your mat over to the couch, stopping briefly to pick something up off of the floor. Standing over you, Bucky moved his hand down your cheek, thumb finding its way past your full lips. With complete adoration in his eyes, he lifted the polaroid camera once more. Aiming the lens right at your blissed out face.

“Look here baby, right at me. That’s it. Look at you. My pretty girl, All mine.”

Sparks erupted from your core as he snapped away praising you as he worked. After a few more flashes, you were growing impatient. “Buck, please.” you whimper, reaching up for him “I n-need you now.”

He set the camera back down, smiling before placing a soft kiss on your palm and moving your hand to feel his aching length. “I got you baby, c’mere. Got me so fucking hard for you.” You watched with bated breath as he moved to toss his shirt aside and started on his pants. You swore you could watch him undress that beautiful body of his again and again, forever and ever, on repeat.

Your heart thumped hard in your chest and you felt yourself getting wetter as his thick cock came into view. Jerking himself slowly, he hovered down over you and ran his tip along your folds, teasing you a bit. “This what you needed, baby? Doing all of those slutty little poses, teasing me from across the room.” He spreads your thighs farther apart, getting another good look at your glistening folds. “So pretty,” he groans when he notices you smiling up at him, ready and willing to take his length.

He sinks into you slowly, filthy lips grazing over your ear as he uses all of his strength not to plow you with force. “GOD–y/n, you feel so fucking good. Made to take my cock.” He shudders, grabbing ahold of your hand tightly and giving you a moment to adjust to his size, making sure you take every inch of him.

He moves in and out of you with precision. Savoring every movement, feeling you inch closer to your edge when suddenly, it happens–he hits that perfect spot inside of your tight wet heat and feels you clench down immediately before gasping a strangled “ohgodyes, Buck–”

Bucky’s eyes meet yours and you can’t help but notice a fire alight inside of his pupils “Yeah, you like that?” He grins proudly.

“You gonna cum for me, angel? Squeezing me so hard” he chokes out. Sweat glistening off of your bodies, vulgar sounds and high-pitched moans creating a perfect melody along the walls of your apartment. The smell of sex wafting in the morning air. “Let go baby, show me how pretty you look when you cum all over my cock.”

Your peak hits you almost immediately, crashing through every muscle in your body as you fall deeper into ecstasy. You nearly squeal as Bucky suddenly flips you back into reality, moving you on top of him, fucking up into you from below. Oh, he’s extra insatiable today. You steady yourself as he slides a hand down your back and palms your ass, tapping once lightly then again, a little harder as you cry out, trying to meet him thrust for thrust.

“One more baby, come on. You can take it, you can take what I give you, yeah?” Bucky’s desperate now. You look down at him, wide-eyed but he’s too busy pawing your tits and pulling at your sensitive nipples. He’s not stopping until you’re both satisfied.

“Give me another. That’s a good girl. C’mon let me feel you sweetheart.”

His cool metal thumb finds your clit at the perfect moment as yet another orgasm rips through you. “B-Bu-Buck! Ohmygod!” Your hips move wildly as your pussy gushes and you lean down to nip at his shoulder, leaving little marks as Bucky begins to chase his own high.

“I know baby, I know. FUCK–You feel like heaven. Never want to leave this pussy. Hold onto me.” Your bodies sync up and you both come crashing down together. As your breathing slows, Bucky pulls you close and starts peppering kisses down your neck and chest. “Always such a good girl for me. Angel.” he lowers you onto the couch, holding your back into his chest as your lids fall heavy and you drift off into a pleasant haze of satisfaction.

You finally come to a minute later, feeling a pair of lips gently pressing against your temple. A lazy smile plastered to your face as you watch Bucky make his way over to the kitchen island, plucking his t-shirt off of the back of the couch and putting it on as he opens up his laptop and joins his work call.

“Sorry I’m a couple of minutes late guys, appreciate you waiting for me. I’m feeling really inspired this morning, so let’s get started!”

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may0tuna · 9 months

Text

I hate you more! Part 3

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x fem!reader

Word count: 737

Warnings: angst

Summary: Reader sabotages Rodrick’s chances with Heather. A classic enemies to lovers!

Author's note: I'm trying to be more consistent in writing, and I'm trying to "plan out" the chapters more? As you may have noticed (or not), I have also updated my masterlist for better reading experience I guess haha I have also started to be more detailed as I can when posting fanfics including warnings and proper tagging lol I'm still new to all of this but yeah :) This chapter's a bit short but I just wanted to get this out so I can start "planning" the next few chapters? lol yeah

Tags: @tomhockstetter7-111 @vihtoriacorrea @sleepyb1txh

Part 1, Part 2

"How do you read this again?" You asked Rodrick while pointing at the word "Sweaty" that's spelled out on a dog bowl.

"Uhh duh, it's sweetie!" Rodrick said confidently.

This is the second day of your tutoring session with Rodrick, and a day before your big test. You had arrived at the Heffleys a bit early so you decided to hang out with Greg and Rowley in the living room when Greg told you about how Rodrick pronounces "Sweetie." You decided to put it to the test when Rodrick came in through the front doors, and you held up the dog bowl and asked him what it says.

You, Greg, and Rowley failed miserably at trying to hide your laughter. It was too much that even Rodrick got embarassed. What's worse is that he doesn't know why you guys were laughing. He taunted Greg, and you decided to step in.

"Alright, come on, Rodrick, time to study," as you pull him by the waistband on his shirt.

"Don't tell me what to do," Rodrick snapped at you as he eyed you pulling him by his shirt.

"Oh? I think in this case, I can," you snapped back at him.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, because if you don't," you paused for a while and smirked at him. "Oh Mrs. Heffleyyyy," you said in an almost sing-song voice.

"Fine fine, you're a snitch!" Rodrick sighed in defeat as he headed upstairs into his room.

"She's awesome!" Greg told Rowley but you didn't hear it because you were already walking up the stairs with Rodrick.

When you arrived at Rodrick's room, it was still as messy as the first time you had set foot in there.

"Geez, would it kill you to clean up in here?"

"Why clean my own room when my mom will do it for me when she gets tired of calling me out on not cleaning my room?" Rodrick said as if he had figured out all the answers to the world. You just rolled your eyes.

"Let's just get this over with."

"What's the rush?" He asked.

"None of your business," you replied. The truth is that you're planning to sneak out later because you heard that there was this party where college students go to at the far-end of town. You always thought that you were too mature for your age so you casually enjoy hanging out with older people. Truth is, you always thought people can see right through your "too cool to be here" attitude and you're worried that people would hate you for it. Maybe Rodrick was right when he said you were only pretending in order to fit in. Did he just figure out your whole double life, the one you tried oh so hard to hide?

The good news is that no one can really tell how old you were when at events like college parties, and you still have your own set of fake IDs from when you were dating your ex. Rodrick didn't ask anymore questions but you can tell that he was curious about it.

"Anyway, let me be frank, you suck at spelling and your grammar is shitty. If I am getting this $100 a week, you need to really mean it."

"Why should I? You're the one getting paid, and if I recall correctly, you lied to me!"

"About what?"

"About Heather!"

"Please, you never had a chance with her!"

Rodrick became silent. His expression pained. You apologized and decided to reach your hand out to him, with the intention of giving him a light tap on the shoulder, but he dismissed it.

"Yeah okay," Rodrick's voice was low and soft. "Whatever," he said after some pause.

He was sitting on the bed and you were facing him, books and notes sprawled out in front of you two. Recently, you've noticed that there's this gnawing feeling whenever you see this side of him, like you want to take care of him. Then again, there is that other side that makes you want to punch him in the face.

"Rodrick," you said softly.

"What?" You detected a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"What if I split the $100? You get $40, I get $60, as long as you take this seriously. And if you take this seriously, we can end today's session a bit early," that last one was for your own benefit.

"Deal."

masterlist

#diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick rules #rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley fanfic #rodrick heffley fluff #rodrick heffley x you #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick heffley x fem!reader #devon bostick #i hate you more

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whatyadrawin · 2 months

Text

The Fruit After the Flesh 18+ -Chapter 12-

Minors DNI!

Masterlist

Approximately 2,084 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt (Headcanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings: Sexual language, foul language, use of a slur, violence, IMAGES DEPICTING BLOOD (no gore). This is Slasher smut, be mindful of that and use your discretion.

A/n: This short chapter straight up flew at my brain immediately following the last chapter. The end of this chapter had me feeling very cocky lol, its probably cringe but its free. LET ME KNOW IF YOU GIGGLED AND KICKED YOUR FEET AT THE LAST SENTENCE. I tried to rush out the art so please don't be too ruthless about it being sloppy, I just wanted to get this chapter out for you all to read ASAP. Let me know if you want to be in the tag list. I update chapter progress on the masterlist whenever something changes.

Please enjoy this chapter! I worked very hard on it so reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated very much.

Tag List: @fan-goddess , @artxasa , @baybaybear1 , @amour-tae

Chapter 12

The night air filled your lungs, you were doubled over trying to regain consciousness after being choked by Dover. Your body was covered in dirt, nothing but a bra and underwear were protecting you from the elements; once you caught your breath you slowly got up, you heard screams followed by the sound of a chainsaw. You turned to look around and saw Dover crawling away from a large man wielding the source of the rattling engine.

You walked closer to the scene unfolding in front of you, only to realize that the one standing before Dover was none other than Tommy. You watch as Tommy stomps on one of Dover’s legs, you hear it snap from the bone breaking on impact, Dover screams in pain and pleads for his life,

“Please, PLEASE! I promise t’leave n’ never come back if y’let me go, Im beggin’ ya!”

Tommy didn’t respond, he just stood there revving the motor of the chainsaw, smoke billowed out of the exhaust swirling around him. You call out,

“Tommy! Wait!”

He turns around to look at you, his expression was unlike any you had ever seen him make, he looked possessed. Tommy wasn’t in there at that moment, it was something else, a demon. Dover took the opportunity of Tommy looking away to get up and limp off as fast as he could, he still had the large knife in his hand from when he was in the hole. Tommy turned around and slowly followed Dover as he tried to escape, you followed them both.

Dover managed to hide among the trees, Tommy was searching for him as if it were a twisted game of hide-and-seek. Tommy circled around, thrusting the chainsaw into bushes and breathing heavily, he looked through the bush he just cut through. Dover popped up behind him and jammed the knife deep into Tommy’s back, he let out an otherworldly roar, not of pain but rather frustration at being bested. Tommy spun around but Dover was hiding again, you followed closely hoping to call Tommy off so you could both get to safety.

You felt an arm circle around your torso, it was Dover, he had captured you and held the knife to your throat as he held back your arm,

“Hey freak!” He called out to Tommy, “If y’don’t fuck off, then yer little whore gets sliced up!”

Tommy spun around, now he was raging and furious, Dover pulled you with him as he walked backwards, his movements stopped when you heard a click,

“Don’t fukin’ move shit heel” You heard Charlie’s voice,

“Let her go or I blow what little brains you got out your fuckin’ nose.” His voice was even tempered and stern.

Dover released you from his grip, you pushed off of him and ran behind Charlie who was holding a pistol against the back of Dover’s head. Dover put his hands up, Charlie lowered the gun and smirked,

“Now run, little piggy.”

Dover bolted, his broken leg was slowing him down but he pushed through the pain to get away, yelping with each step. Charlie looked at Tommy and smirked,

“Kill him.”

Tommy let out a low growl as he raised the chainsaw forward and sprinted after Dover; Charlie grabbed your arm and started walking you away from the direction Tommy went, he asked,

“You hurt girlie?”

You don’t answer the question and instead say,

“I don’t want to leave Tommy!”

Charlie continues to pull you away, ensuring you couldn’t turn to look,

“Don’t worry ‘bout him, you hurt?” He asks.

You reply, “I’m in pain but, I think I’m ok.”

The sound of a blood curdling scream is heard in the distance, it was met with the sound of the roaring chainsaw cutting through something, you knew what was happening but you couldn’t believe that it was real.

You finally made it to the house and the chainsaw sound had ceased so you knew whatever happened was over. When you get inside, Luda Mae runs to hold you, she looks over your body and brings you over to the parlor where she had a tub of warm water with a washcloth and some gauze,

“Oh god you poor thing, I’m so glad you’re ok. Come here n’ let me clean you up.”

You sit on the couch and she dumps the cloth in the warm water, she rinses the dirt off your skin and begins to look over your body for wounds. You just sat there unable to do anything, you were in a state of bewilderment at the string of events that took place. Luda Mae puts a blanket over you and give you a glass of water then goes to speak to Charlie; they both start speaking quietly. You drink the water and blankly stare at a spot on the rug, your mind began to quiet, you felt like shock was setting in.

Your trance is broken by the sound of the front door opening, Luda Mae calls out,

“Oh, my boy, my sweet, sweet boy, I’m so sorry you had to do that again. Are you hurt?” you could hear the worry in her voice.

You fling the blanket off you and run towards the door, the sight you were met with sent a shiver down your spine. Tommy was covered in blood and his eyes had a distant look to them, a zombie-like expression plastered on his face.

“Tommy?” you were unsure if it was really him, you had never seen him like that before.

You walk up to him and take his hand in yours; he doesn’t even look at you, he slowly walks past you and heads to the basement door, his breathing was heavy and he made a low, animalistic growl as he moved.

You ask, “What’s wrong with him?”

Charlie looks at you, then he looks at Luda Mae,

He says, “He gets like this after a kill, just leave him be.”

“What? So, he really has done it before…” you mumbled.

You went to your room to grab a first aid kit and made your way back to the basement door to go look after him,

Charlie tries to stop you, “Stay away from him girly, if you know what’s good.”

You ignore him and shut the door behind you, following the drops of blood down the stairs.

The trail leads to Tommy’s room, you take a deep breath and open the door. You see Tommy sitting on the bed staring off into nothing, he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence, the room is dark and he is illuminated only by the red of the light outside his door. You walk up to him slowly; he was now breathing steadily but the breaths were slow and full. You turn on the light that was sitting on his nightstand, he still doesn’t move, you get up on his bed to check the wound on his back, its deep and slowly oozing blood.

You leave his bedroom to grab a bucket and wash cloth from the laundry room, when you get back, Tommy was still unmoved and had a thousand-yard stare. You place the bucket next to him and sit on the bed, you begin to gently wash off the blood from the wound, you sigh as you see it needs a gauze bandage but Tommy is covered in blood and needs to be cleaned before you dress any wounds.

You slowly remove the shirt he had on, it was once white, but now was stained a dark red, you unbuckle his pants but are unable to pull them off since he was sitting. You decide to get his mask off so he could breathe better and wash his face. You slowly pull the mask off but before you could get a good look, Tommy grabs your wrists and throws you onto the bed. He gets up and crawls over top of you, pinning your wrists down, you try to struggle out of it but he has a firm grasp on you and his massive body engulfs yours, you look at his face and see the damage from his past. Tommy is missing skin on one side of his face so badly that his teeth are clearly visible, he lets out a deafening roar, his face inches away from yours and you scream in fear. It was like having a bear attacking you, he was not himself, he was barely acting human. You didn’t care, you knew he needed help,

“Tommy stop! It’s me!” you pleaded with him hoping he could calm down a bit,

“I just want to help! You’re hurt!” you continued.

Tommy was breathing heavily, his eyes slowly started to focus and his pupils became visible again, he immediately let go of you and got off your body. You let out a sigh of relief and sat up,

“Let’s get you to the shower, come on.” You took his hand and pulled him to the bathroom near the laundry area.

He followed you willingly, holding onto your hand firmly. When you got to the bathroom, you turned on the tub faucet and plugged the drain so it would fill with hot water. You took off Tommys pants and stopped before you went to remove his undergarment,

“Tommy, can you take off your underwear and get into the tub for me?” you asked in a hushed tone.

Despite the circumstances, you still wanted to give him some respect and autonomy. You turned your head to look away as he removed his underwear, when you heard him get into the tub you turned back around. A bar of soap was on the wall ledge, the tub itself was a massive claw foot tub and had a lot of space around it, you sat yourself behind his head, wet the soap in the water, and started rubbing suds into his hair. Tommy let out a long sigh, he was starting to return to his normal behavior,

You say, “Thank you for saving me back there.”

He shakes his head, “I didn’t keep you safe.”

You lean over to look at him, “How could you have?”

He sinks into the water slowly and replies,

“I should’ve been there to stop him from takin’ you.”

You furl your eyebrows and follow,

“If you didn’t come when you did, I wouldn’t be alive right now, you saved my life.”

He lets out a long breath and says,

“Nothin' bad’s gon’ happen to you ever again. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that, you won’t always be there when bad things happen. You're only human.” Your words were sincere.

He washed the rest of the blood off his body and face, then sat up and turned his head to you, he said,

“I ain’t human.”

You laugh, “What are you then?”

He looks away and thinks,

“I dunno, a monster I guess, least that’s what everyone calls me.”

You feel a wave of sadness wash over you, he continues,

“Everyone was always runnin’ n’ screamin’ when they saw me, yellin’ ‘Monster!’”

You put the soap down and get up to position yourself next to him, you gently pull his face to look at yours and say,

“Am I screaming and running?”

He shakes his head, “Why not? I ain’t no prince, n' that’s what you deserve.”

You move in and kiss his cheek, then say, “Because I love you.”

His eyes grew wide, “You serious?” he asks.

You nod your head and smile,

he sits up and pulls you into the water, you squeal and laugh. Your back is rested on his chest and he gives you a tight bear hug from behind. You spin around to look at him, you pour water on his head to rinse the suds off, his hair hangs over his face like a wet dog and it makes you laugh. He smiles and pulls you in for another kiss, you reciprocate and he holds you in place with both arms around you. You pull back and laugh as you push his hair away from his face. You both kiss passionately in the bathtub, water swirling with Dover’s blood, the suds bubbling and floating around you both, making quiet little pops as they dry out in the air.

You were so fried from the events that just took place, the pain in your face from being punched and slapped didn’t affect you yet. Tommy may have a monstrous past, and the face many would flee from, but his arms were a castle, and he, your prince.

Next chapter-

#what ya writin #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x y/n #slasher community #thomas hewitt x afab reader #leatherface 2006 #texas chainsaw massacre #my art #the fruit after the flesh #slasher smut #slasher x reader #slasher thirst #slasher fandom #tw blood

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