#whats more my friends tell OTHER PEOPLE to take their shoes off

[gunnerfc]

Dress | Alessia Russo x Reader (18+) [Thursday]

-> England and Arsenal reader

Summary: Your best friend and housemate looks a little too good in the new dress she bought | slightly inspired by ‘Dress’ - Taylor Swift

Warnings: bottom alessia, top reader, strap use (alessia receiving), oral (alessia receiving), fingering (r receiving), masturbation (R; fingering) in a shared space

WC: 4k

AN: this might be one of if not number 1 of the fics I've written 🧎| this is the dress I was referencing Alessia wearing

Night After Night masterlist

You cheered softly to yourself when you scored your eighth goal against Katie in a game of FIFA. You loved playing against her because you knew you could walk away with an easy win. you laughed to yourself picturing your teammate swearing and complaining to Caitlin, who would have a lot to say to you during training for making her deal with an angry Katie McCabe. 

Just as Katie restarted the game, Alessia came tumbling through the front door, hands full with bags from her day out shopping. You threw a glance her way and chuckled when she lightly tripped over her own feet. 

"You good, Lessi," you teased but kept your eyes locked on the TV screen in front of you.

Alessia's face lit up, blush coating her cheeks as she sat all her bags down to remove her shoes. "Perfectly fine, thank you very much," she huffed as she tossed her shoes to the small pile by the front door. 

You and Alessia had been friends for a long time and when you both were signed to Arsenal, you decided to move in together to make things easy. You loved living with her but being around her 24/7 did nothing to stop your ever-growing feelings for her. But you kept your feelings to yourself, not wanting to complicate your living situation. 

Your game with Katie came to an end and the defender promptly left the lobby, too pissed at the score line to continue playing. You chuckled once more as you sat your controller on the couch, your full attention turned to Alessia who was now trying to pick up all her bags to carry to her room. 

"Did you leave anything for other people to buy," you joked as you stood up to help her, a smile on your face when you noticed her blush.

"Hush," she mumbled as you picked up most of the bags for her. You were too busy keeping your own feelings hidden to notice Alessia doing the same.

The forward had a crush on you the moment you two met at the youth levels for England. You two have been inseparable since then, closer than ever and madly in love with the other, even if you were both hiding it. 

But Alessia was tired of keeping her feelings to herself, she's wanted to tell you how she felt every day since she came to terms with it. She just wasn't sure what the best way to go about it was because she was worried about you potentially not feeling the same. However, after whining about her feelings and gushing about you to Ella, the two of them came up with a plan. 

She was going to make you make the first move if you did feel the same and an upcoming event proved to be her best chance. She had spent all day shopping with Lotte and Emily to find the perfect dress that she thought would drive you crazy. After hours of searching, she finally found the perfect dress that she'd hoped you'd take off her. 

You sat the bags on the end of her bed before turning to head back to the living room. "Wait, can I get your help on which dress to wear for this event, I know you aren't going but I could use the extra opinion," the blonde grinned and you knew you'd never be able to say no to her.

"You're sure you want my opinion," you joked with a raised eyebrow, dressing up and going to all those fancy events were out of your comfort zone. 

"Of course, I trust your opinion more than others," she replied, her grin just a bright. 

You nodded with a smile before telling her you'd wait in the living room for her to show you her options. Alessia cheered cutely before she started pulling various outfits from the shopping bags. 

You sat on the couch, browsing through social media while you waited. You'd just clicked through Katie's Snapchat story where she posted about losing to you with various angry emojis when Alessia's bedroom door opened. You looked up from your phone and your eyes scanned the dress your best friend was wearing. 

It was a black dress but wasn't one you thought complimented her fully. "It's nice but I don't think it's my favorite," you hummed, your eyes straying toward her long legs before meeting her eyes. 

"It's not my favorite either but I thought I'd still show you," she blushed before heading back into her room to change into the next dress. 

You weren't sure how you were given a free pass to basically check out your best friend but you weren't going to say no to the idea. So you waited, letting Alessia take all the time she wanted before she came back out in a blue dress. 

This one was better than the last but still missing something. You tilted your head to the side as your eyes took in the piece of clothing before giving her your thoughts. "I like this one more than the black one, but it still feels like it's missing something," you offered, your eyes meeting hers with a smile on your face. 

Alessia nodded and smiled but didn't say anything as she turned around. Your eyes shamelessly dropped to check her out again before you were staring at her closed bedroom door. Alessia was glad you didn't like any of the ones she was showing you so far, she was only showing them to make it seem like she had options. 

But as she slipped on the red dress she bought earlier, she knew this would be the winner. Alessia took a small breath before opening her door and stepping out, her eyes landing on you to watch your reaction closely.

You looked up from your phone, your jaw dropping slightly but you were quick to school your expression. Your eyes slowly scanned her body, lingering as they eyed parts of her exposed chest and her legs. You swallowed harshly as you sat up straighter, many thoughts forming in your head but none were something you could say to your best friend. 

"Um... I- I like this one the most," you settled on something safe, though your eyes had yet to meet hers again. 

Alessia smirked softly but her face was almost as red as her dress, she'd slowly put her secret plan in motion and now she had to sit back and let you make the first move. "Good, this was my favorite too," she beamed, turning to head back into her room and she felt your eyes burning holes into her backside as you watched her leave.

The event was in four days and the blonde planned to let you sit with all you were feeling until you saw her in the dress again, hoping it would be what would jumpstart your relationship. Though with training in between, the days leading up to the event seemed to drag on for ages.

You groaned as you opened your front door to be met with multiple people who were a part of Alessia’s team helping her get ready. It had slipped your mind that today was the day of the event Alessia would be attending and a small burst of excitement filled your chest as you remembered the dress she decided on. Though in reality, the dress hadn’t left your mind since she first walked out of her bedroom to show you.

“Y/N! Is that you,” Alessia’s voice echoed from her bedroom as she heard the front door open amidst the chaotic scenes around her.

“Who else would it be,” you joked as you peeked your head around her doorframe, eyes landing on the blonde sitting on the edge of her bed in a white robe while her makeup artist covered her eyelashes in mascara.

Alessia rolled her eyes when the woman left her alone to grab a light shade of lipstick. Alessia’s eyes met yours as she let her makeup artist apply the lipstick. You sent her a small smile before returning to your room to shower, having gone for a light gym workout with Kyra. 

By the time you were done and changed, Alessia had changed into her dress and was getting assistance with her heels in the living room. Your breath hitched when you exited your room, your eyes slowly committing the sight of her to memory. “You look beautiful, Less,” you gushed quietly as you bit your lip softly. 

Alessia’s cheeks burned as her head dropped slightly out of shyness. “Thank you, y/n/n,” she muttered before her team informed her it was time to go.

Alessia was rushed out the door before either of you could say anything else and you were left in the quiet of your home, a warm feeling growing between your legs. You knew you had a few hours to yourself before Alessia would be back so you opted to relax in the living room.

You did your best to distract yourself for as long as you could but the need growing between your legs was overpowering. If you were going to get yourself off you were going to be quick about it since Alessia could be back at any moment. You swallowed lightly before propping one of your legs on the coffee table in front of you and spreading the other. You sighed as your hands pulled at your clothing, groping your chest as your hips rolled slightly. 

Your mind was full of Alessia, what it would be like to have your way with her, and how she’d sound begging for you to fuck her. Your breathing picked up as you slid your hands down your body toward the waistband of the sweatpants you were wearing. You pushed your shirt up your torso some, gripping it as your other hand dipped under the elastic of your pants and underwear.

Your body jerked at the feeling of your cold hands on your skin as you ran a finger through your wet folds. You moaned the sensation, Alessia’s name falling from your lips without realizing it. You pushed a finger into your wet cunt, thrusting slowly as your eyes fell shut and your chest heaved.

You added a second finger and sped up your movements, pumping your fingers inside you as your hips grind in time with your fingers. You moved the hand that was holding your shirt up to grope one of your breasts under your shirt, moaning as you pulled at the hardened nipple. You chanted Alessia’s name as your back arched off the couch, your thighs clamping your hand between them.

You came with a loud moan of Alessia’s name and kept your fingers pumping inside you to help calm yourself down. After a moment, the sensation became too much and you pulled your soaked fingers out of your pants. You swallowed harshly as you stared up at the ceiling, your chest moving rapidly.

You stood up after catching your breath to wash your hands in the kitchen and as you headed to your room, the front door opened. Alessia sighed as she closed the door behind her, leaning against it as she shoved her heels off and dropped her small purse. Your eyes widened slightly, hoping she hadn’t been right outside the whole time.

“Remind me to never do that again,” she groaned as she moved to the couch, dropping into the spot you had previously occupied. You blinked a few times before joining her, you couldn’t just say nothing and head to your room just yet.

You offered her a small laugh in response as you sat next to her, leaving enough space between the two of you. The dress she was wearing was driving you crazy and you didn’t know how much longer you could last.

“What did you get up to while I was gone,” the blonde questioned, turning her head to face you.

“Oh, um...not much. Just watched some TV, y’know,” you shrugged, though Alessia knew you well enough to know that you were lying but she didn’t press you.

She mumbled a small ‘nice’ before you were both sitting in silence, both of your thoughts filled with similar things. You bit your lip as your eyes trailed up her legs to the hem of her dress that rested on her thigh. Oh, how you’d love to be between her thighs right now.

Your breathing picked up as you thought about how she would taste and held back a moan as you pictured going down on her. “Y/n, are you all right,” Alessia asked softly as she slid next to you, a hand landing on your thigh.

You nodded but refused to meet her eye and Alessia wasn't having that. She raised her hand to turn you to face her, your eyes filled with arousal as you stared at her lips. “Alessia,” you whispered and the blonde’s thighs flexed hearing you say her full name.

“Yeah,” her voice was just as quiet as yours as she ran her thumb along your cheek. You leaned in slowly, giving her enough time to pull away if she wanted.

When she didn’t move away, you connected your lips in a hesitant kiss, waiting for her to move first. You both sighed heavily into the kiss as your lips moved against each other, your hand falling to grip her thigh. Alessia moaned softly into the kiss at the feeling of your hand on her and you took the opportunity to move your tongue into her mouth.

You slide your hand further up her thigh, pushing the bottom of her dress to her hips before your hand hits the fabric of her panties. Alessia pulled out of the kiss to moan louder, her forehead resting against yours as her eyes fell shut.

“I wanna taste you, Lessi,” you mumbled, your voice laced with arousal as you rubbed your fingers over her covered cunt. You could feel how wet she was through the piece of clothing and it was driving you crazy. 

“Please,” she croaked out and it was all you needed to drop to your knees in front of her. You bunched her dress around her hips as you placed light kisses along the inside of her thighs, small whines falling from her lips as she waited for you.

You pulled her panties down her legs, tossing them somewhere behind you as her legs spread for you. You gulped softly as you stared at her dripping cunt before making yourself comfortable between her thighs. 

You hooked your arms around her thighs, moving her legs to rest on your shoulders as you leaned in, placing a tentative kiss on her clit. Alessia threw her head back against the couch, one of her hands tangling in your hair as your kisses became more confident. Your kisses turned to suck as you took the sensitive bud into your mouth, sucking harshly as you moaned against her.

Alessia’s hips bucked up as you moved your tongue to run through her wet folds, a loud moan of your name falling from her lips. Her thighs clamped around your head, keeping you as close as possible to her as you tasted her. Your eyes flutter shut as you work your move against her, pulling whines from the blonde above you. 

“I’m gonna cum,” she cried, her breathing heavy as her hips jerked against your face. You sped up your tongue, fucking her with the muscle as you held her body tightly. 

Alessia came on your face with a loud groan, tears pricking her eyes in pleasure as you kept moving. Her legs went limp against your shoulders and she tugged slightly on your hair to get your attention. You pulled away from her, earning a whine when the cold air hit her cunt. 

You sat on your knees as you took her in, your eyes falling to her partially exposed chest. You weren’t close to being satisfied and you stood on wobbly legs, offering her a hand. Alessia took your hand, letting you help her up and guide her to your bedroom. Her mind racing from this new experience.

You closed your bedroom door softly behind you and moved the two of you to the edge of your bed. You took your time stripping Alessia’s dress off her, letting it pool by her ankles before she stepped out of it. Your hands rested softly on her waist as your eyes scanned her completely bare body. 

Alessia’s breath hitched when you kissed her collarbone before trailing kisses to her breasts. She pushed her chest forward as your lips wrapped around one of her nipples, sucking on the bud as one of your hands slipped down to grab her ass. You pulled away from her completely after a moment, a string of spit connecting your lips to her nipple as you did so.

You took a step back to strip, tossing your clothes to the floor to be picked up later. Alessia shamelessly let her eyes ogle your body. You turned to move toward your nightstand, pulling a girthy strap on from the drawer before turning to face the blonde. Alessia’s eyes dropped to the toy in your hand and felt her cunt grow even wetter. 

“We can stop if you want,” you offered, not wanting to overstep any boundary. 

Alessia shook her quickly, “I don't want to stop,” she croaked out. You nodded with a small smirk as you harnessed the toy around your waist. Alessia felt lightheaded at the sight of you with the strap on between your legs.

You motioned to the bed with your head, letting her get into whatever position she wanted to be fucked in. You bit back a small groan when she crawled onto your bed and stayed on her hands and knees. You moved around the bed to return to the edge before kneeling on the mattress behind her. You ran your hands over her ass, smacking her skin softly as you kneaded the skin.

Alessia whined at the feeling, her head dropping as she stared at the cover of your bed. You slid your hands up to caress her hips, rubbing your thumbs over her back. Alessia waited with bated breath as you moved one hand to the toy between your legs, lifting the tip to her cunt. You pushed the strap into her, your hand returning to her hip as you bottomed out. Alessia gasped at the full feeling, her hips pushing back against you once she was comfortable. 

Alessia’s skin felt hot against yours and you took a small intake of air before pulling out some. You snapped your hips against her, your skin slapping against hers as you thrust. Alessia’s arms buckled slightly at your thrusts but her hips pushed back against you with each one. You sped up your movements when loud whines fell from your best friend’s lips, your name never sounding better. 

“Fuck,” you huffed as your thrusts became rougher, your head falling back as you closed your eyes. Your eyes were back on Alessia when she moved to rest on her forearms, her hands gripping your cover as continuous whines filled your room. The loud sound of your skin hitting hers and the sound of you fucking her mixed with her moans made your head spin.

“Fuck, Less. You’re taking me so well,” you grunted as squeezed her hips, most likely leaving light bruises in your wake.

Alessia moaned at the praises, her hips faltering as she was close to another orgasm. You kept your pace steady, your hips snapping against her body roughly. “I’m so close! Please-” Her words were taken from her when you hit that particular spot within her, a loud whine taking their place.

You focused on your movements, determined to have her experience one of her best orgasms ever. “Cum for me, Alessia,” you grunted as you railed into her.

With a loud whine, Alessia fell into the mattress she came on your strap. You kept your hips going as you helped her through her orgasm, broken cries from the blonde edged you on to keep going. You fucked into her with the same momentum as before, a third orgasm hitting her as she whimpered.

You pulled out of her slowly, the blonde breathing heavily as you tossed the toy to the floor. You ran your hands up the back of her thighs, up her ass, and over her back in a comforting manner, the blonde’s skin sweaty under your touch.

“You good, Less,” you mumbled into her ear as you leaned over her, placing small kisses along her back. You moved slightly when she rolled over, her fucked out expression became your favorite sight in that moment. 

Alessia licked her lips as she nodded, her brain too foggy to form a sentence. You smirked as you lay on your side next to her, one of your hands tracing random shapes along her body. Alessia turned her head to face you, her eyes locking with yours as she leaned up to kiss you. She could faintly taste herself on your lips from earlier as she pushed you onto your back.

You stared at the blonde in shock, you hadn’t expected her to have enough energy to reciprocate, not that you minded. Alessia straddled your thigh and you moaned quietly as you felt her wetness on your skin. She traced a finger down your body and leaned down to kiss you. You moaned into the kiss when she ran her finger through your wet folds, your hips bucking up to meet her finger.

She dipped her finger inside you slowly before pulling it out quickly. You gasped lightly, her finger felt ten times better than yours had felt earlier. Your eyes screwed shut when she pushed two fingers deep inside you, pumping them slowly to edge you closer to your second orgasm that night. You held the cover beneath you tightly as your back arched off the mattress, hips rolling in time with her thrusts. 

“L-less,” you stuttered, your head thrown back against your pillows as she fucked you closer to the edge. “P-please,” you begged.

Alessia sped up her fingers as her other hand to rub your sensitive clit. Your body jerked at the feeling, a loud moan falling from your lips as you let go, cumming all over her fingers. Alessia slowed her fingers some before pulling them out of you completely. 

Your eyes fell open at the loss of contact and they fell on Alessia as she brought her fingers to her mouth, sucking them into her mouth to taste you. She moaned at the taste, her eyes closing as she licked her fingers clean. You gulped at the sight, desire building once more.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” you grunted as you sat up, your arms wrapping around her waist to pull her flush against you. You both moaned slightly when your sensitive nipples bumped each other.

Alessia wrapped her arms around your neck, her fingers playing with the baby hairs on the back of your neck. You stared up at her, a look of love clouding your eyes as you smiled at her. Alessia giggled quietly as she gave you a quick kiss but you pulled her into a deeper kiss before she got too far.

“I'm in love with you, Alessia,” you whispered against her lips, a sense of nervousness filled your body despite everything that just happened.

“I’m in love with you too, y/n,” she blushed, a smile on her face as she spoke. You beamed up at her before kissing her once more, though this kiss was softer than the last. 

Alessia pulled back with a small yawn, her tiring week mixed with the sex had exhausted her. You cooed with a small smile when you saw her bow her head bashfully. You moved the two of you under the covers, placing a small kiss to her hairline as she curled into you.

“Goodnight, Less,” you whispered against her head as you pulled her close to you. The blonde mumbled a quiet ‘goodnight’ before sleep took over.

You were glad your feelings were out in the open now and the two of you could talk about it more in the morning. But for now, you were content to cuddle Alessia as you both slept, a smile on your face as fell asleep.

#woso x reader #awfc x reader #engwnt x reader #lionesses x reader #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Bad Guy x Reader

I am currently in my Natural Born Killers nostalgia, and so I'm borrowing its vibes and bringing you this: a bad-to-the-bone, rock-and-roll attitude yandere who constantly makes you question your own morality. Featuring an old OC!

Content: gender neutral reader, violence, murder, male yandere

He fell in love with you at first sight. A goody two shoes, quiet and obedient. Shy. Oh, terribly shy. You couldn't even meet his eyes. He knew you were the kind others would step on, take advantage of. But there was more to it, much more to uncover.

Who was it? A relative, a friend, a coworker? You know, that person holding you back, keeping you in your place. The one who'd always make you feel small and insignificant. The one who would always find something to criticize. How did it feel when you found them on the ground, bashed in and bloodied up? He was standing above the lifeless body, catching his breath, a cocky smile plastered on his face. His way of courting you.

He looked so tall in that moment, towering above your hesitant self, his gaze of a confidence and intensity you'd never known before. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get in", he said, gesturing towards a convertible he most likely stole earlier that day. What possessed you in that moment to join him without delay? Was it his charisma? Or did you know in the depth of your soul that he wouldn't take no for an answer?

You see, he's known it from the beginning. Someone like you needs someone like him. You’re a sweet little lamb lost among the wolves. The world would eat you right up if you were left by yourself. But now you have him. And he won't let his precious prey get away. Oh, dear, no. If he wants something, he gets it. And he's never wanted anything more than you.

"You didn't...even tell me your name", you sheepishly spoke up from the passenger seat, trying to keep your mind away from the crime you'd just witnessed. "Just call me Tig", he said casually with a yawn, speeding away. "Won't you be in trouble, Tig? Why would you even kill-" you tried to reason. "What kinda question is that? They treated you like shit and it pissed me off." He glanced at you with a frown, taking another drag off his cigarette. "You're mine now, so whatever happens to you is my business. Got it?" You just stared. Was that his way of asking you out?

Tig lives by his own rules, as you quickly learned from becoming his companion. Always on the run, indifferent to the world. For the most part, to your surprise, he's well-behaved. If people don't mess with him, he doesn't mess with them. Simple as that.

Anything involving you, however, sets him off terribly. Like a rabid, ferocious guard dog, he's ready to pounce on whoever approaches you the wrong way. Last week you stopped at a highway diner for coffee, and on your way back to your table, you jokingly pulled a clumsy dance move to the song playing from the speakers. Tig observed you with an amused smile, sipping from his cup. A passerby joined you, resting his arm on your waist flirtatiously. Tig's smile dropped in an instant, and next thing you knew, the whole place was splattered in blood. No one made it out.

"I didn't even finish my coffee", you whined, already used to the occasional massacre. The man hopped behind the counter and threw on a bloodied cap. "What will it be, sir/ma'am?" he pretended, dangling a takeaway cup and starting the espresso machine. "I never told you, but I used to be a barista", he declared proudly. An entirely different person from the unhinged killer you witnessed minutes ago. "What? You said you were a mechanic", you questioned with raised brows. "That's also true. I'm a jack of all trades, I suppose. You know what I'm best at, though?" He lowered himself until his forehead touched yours. "Pleasing you."

The man is romantic in his own way. He twists the key, and the engine stops. You follow him out of the car in confusion. "Why did we stop here?" He briefly lifts himself up onto the tall fence securing the bridge, and inhales deeply. "Isn't it a nice view?" he says, nodding ahead. It is a scenic sight, sure. The river slithers along the lush valley, and the setting sun gives everything a dramatic tint. "Give me your hand", he suddenly demands as he goes to grab it himself. Before you can ask for an explanation, he quickly drags a blade across your palm, and you wince in pain. He repeats the gesture with his own hand, locking his fingers with yours over the rail. You watch as fresh blood trails along your skin, eventually falling into droplets and vanishing into the river. "Now we're going to be everywhere", he remarks playfully. "Okay, but what was the point?" you insist, a little baffled.

"Isn't it obvious? Maybe this will help", he continues, procuring a ring from his pocket. "I'm saying I want to marry you, (Y/N)."

You open your mouth to answer, but he already slides it up your finger, eyes glimmering in excitement.

"You're never getting away from me, love."

#yes I'm advertising the movie again because it's a CLASSIC #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere killer #yandere delinquent #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #yandere male x reader #yandere boyfriend #male yandere #doodle #my art #yandere art #tig

[flooffybits]

Such A Cliché

A soulmate is a person's other half, so the pain that one feels is a pain shared with the other. However, when circumstances aren't quite agreeable, hurting your soulmate is what you end up doing anyway.

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: getting burned, yn is an ass, yoohyeon is scared of you, sad jiu, hospitals

A/N: lmao should have been done when I told you guys about it but I wanted to add more but here you go! also please tell me if i made a mistake, i had asked a friend what is unnie in chinese because i thought it would be nicer since dongie is yn's younger sister here

☕buy me a coffee☕

Gahyeon is understandably the last to get out of bed by the time morning comes. She knows that Dong had checked in on her a while ago, but she was too sleepy to even try opening her eyes, and instead batted the older woman’s hand away, grumbling about another five minutes.

So when she finally does decide to get up and get ready, the maknae was confused to see her roommate fussing around the dorm, perfectly dressed like always. “Are you heading out, unnie?” She asked while taking a seat, welcoming the quick peck Siyeon pressed to her cheek as a good morning greeting.

The Chinese woman hummed, smiling as she grabbed her bag and then began to put her hair up into a messy bun. “I’m picking my sister up from the airport today. I thought I told you last night?”

She did. Gahyeon was just too sleepy to retain everything the older woman told her.

“I don’t know why you expect her to remember after just waking up.” Bora teases, also dressed up and ready to accompany the latter. Though her comment did earn a pout from the maknae as she glared at the dancer. “I remember! I’m just still half asleep.” She argues, earning a laugh from the woman next to her before Siyeon pulls her to a hug. “Oh, no need to be so grumpy.” She cooed and Minji finally exited her room in time to see the pair putting their shoes on.

“Oh, you’re leaving already?” She questioned, smiling when she saw the now awake maknae. “Remember to be careful, alright?” She reminds them and Bora grins while giving her a thumbs up. “Like I would let anything happen to my princess.” She says with a puff of her chest and Dong only rolled her eyes in good nature before taking her girlfriend’s hand and tugged. “Let’s go, I don’t want to have her wait too long.”

Bora allowed herself to be pulled out of the dorm, waving goodbye while Dong shouted a quick ‘be right back’.

Once the door closed behind the pair, Gahyeon turned to the leader with her brows pinched together. “I forgot that Y/n unnie was coming.” She suddenly said out loud and Siyeon chuckled while she sipped her coffee. “We figured.”

Still, Gahyeon couldn’t wipe the frown off her face as she sank further in Siyeon’s arms. “Is she going to stay here?” She mumbled and Minji sent her a sympathetic look. “I don’t think so. But Dongie wants us all to hang out.” She explains, making the maknae grimace. “Come on, I know that she isn’t too fond of us, but let’s do it for Dongie.” Siyeon coaxes her before Yubin and Yoohyeon finally come to join them in the main room.

“Dong unnie and Sua unnie already left?” Yubin noted and Minji hummed in confirmation. “I don’t know how Sua unnie is going to adjust, now that Y/n unnie is moving here.” Yoohyeon muttered before Minji gave her a meaningful look. “I know that we don’t get along with her too well, but who knows? Maybe getting to see her often now could help.”

“I hope so.”

..

“Is it obvious that I’m nervous?” Bora blurted out as she scanned the crowded building. She’s been to the airport numerous times and she’s not really antsy with having this many people around her. But it was the fact that she would be seeing you again that had her fidgeting in place.

Dong gave her hand a reassuring squeeze while smiling under her mask. “Relax, unnie. It’s just my sister.” That didn’t help the dancer’s nerves at all. “It’s your sister, the same one who does not like us, by the way.” She reminds and Dong resisted the urge to sigh, her smile slipping away as she looked away.

“She’s just… not adjusted yet. My parents are warming up to me being away and being an idol but Y/n, you have to understand that we were inseparable as kids.” She explained, causing Bora’s lips to purse when she felt the tension her girlfriend was feeling through their link.

She hated that she had to be put in the middle of it all.

You weren’t a bad person, you were just indifferent because of the fact that you had your only sibling stripped away from you at such a young age. You had grown up together until she moved to study in South Korea and eventually became a trainee, going against your parents’ wishes, and leaving you feeling abandoned.

You tried to be supportive of her, but everytime you would see her with her group members, it always felt like you were being reminded of how you had lost your sister to seven people you didn’t know.

It was childish, you had to admit, but you missed her dearly. Dong was your best friend and you protected her at every given moment. So, after a promotion at work, you were given the opportunity to move to a different country. And seeing that South Korea was among your options, your answer was clear as day.

“There she is.”

Bora didn't want to bring the topic up again, knowing how it was a sensitive subject. So she bears the usual grin she always wore before waving her hand in an exaggerated manner, enough for you, and a handful of strangers, to notice the dancer.

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes as you head over, forcing a smile for your sister, and you notice as she lets go of her soulmate's hand to welcome you into a warm hug.

"I can't believe you're actually here." You hear her voice muffled against your shoulder, and your smile becomes more genuine as you pull back to give her a proper once over. "I can't either, but I'm sure you're gonna get sick of my face one of these days now." You joke and Bora smiles from the side, witnessing your true self around your younger sister.

Though as your eyes drifted to her, the dancer smiled and her wave was more tame this time around. "It's been a while. I hope your flight was fine." She attempts and you nod stiffly, expression now blank that Dong has to nudge you. "It was alright, though I think my legs would appreciate the walk."

She's a little surprised, considering you were a little more civil compared to your first meeting years ago. But she takes it either way.

"Well, let's get you to your apartment. I want to hear all about the promotion." Your sister pipes up as she takes your arm and Bora trails after you as you speak, respecting both of your privacy.

Though she does notice how you keep a slow pace to make sure that she isn't too far behind.

..

"You mean she's actually civil, now?" Siyeon asks in disbelief as she sets her cup aside. Her eyes were so wide, it looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets.

"I was expecting her to ignore me the whole time. But she was trying." Bora explained, her face showing how she was also having troubles coming to terms with your new personality. "Then again, you are Dongie's soulmate. It's possible that she's still not too happy with the rest of us but tolerates you." Yoohyeon piped up and Bora turned to her. "I know, I thought of that, too."

Currently, Dong decided to spend a few nights with you to help you adjust, which Minji allowed.

"Dongdong actually told me that they had a serious talk when she went back home." The dancer stated while leaning against Yubin's arm. "But at least she doesn't resent you. She's trying for Dong unnie's sake."

"Dami is right. I'm sure none of us want to have Dongie pick sides. I'd probably do the same if my brother ever finds his soulmate." The leader commented and Gahyeon crinkled her nose. "Unless you find yours first." She teased, making the eldest playfully roll her eyes. "Very funny, but you know I'm not rushing into finding them."

Siyeon hums, already knowing the leader's stance after all these years. "Wouldn't it be funny if your soulmate ended up being Y/n?" Yoohyeon made a sound of protest, looking scandalized as Gahyeon laughed. "Don't say that! I can't imagine Jiu unnie with someone like Y/n unnie."

Bora rolled her eyes this time. "She isn't that bad. We don't even know what she's like aside from that one time and all the stories Dongie told us." She defended and Yubin shrugged her shoulders as she laced her fingers under her chin. "That's true, but all of unnie's stories are different from what Y/n unnie showed us."

"She's a protective older sister who had to let go of her only sibling. I'm sure you can understand how painful that must have been."

No one says anything to counter that. Even when Gahyeon was an only child, she's grown to love all the girls as though they were her own family, so she can't imagine having any of them taken away from her.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Bora spoke. "Dongie said Y/n was offering dinner for tomorrow." She looked up from her phone, the question in her eyes and Minji struggled a little to find an answer before she took a quick look around.

If Bora said you were fine, then maybe it would be alright.

"Sure. Tell them we'll meet them there."

Maybe that was her mistake.

Minji isn’t sure why, but given that you would be around more often now, she realized that you had to have some sort of civil relationship for your sister’s sake. Dong was as precious to you as she was to all of them. With you much closer now, there was no doubt that you would be around them, whether you liked it or not.

When dinner came around, Dong was leading the group through the restaurant, giving her name before they were brought to the table you had reserved for everyone, though you were nowhere in sight.

“I thought you said she was already here?” Yoohyeon asks cautiously, taking a seat and then looking around the fancy restaurant. “She sure does know how to go all out.” Siyeon comments when she looks at the various decorations and the expensive looking furniture.

Dong laughs at that, but a voice beats her into responding. “Work hard and you get rewarded, I suppose.” All heads turn to you when you finally join them and all but your sister and her soulmate straighten at your appearance.

With a nod, you take a seat beside the pair and then eye each girl. “I’ve already asked Dongie what you girls would like and ordered ahead. Though if you want to add anything, feel free to ask.” You explain, gesturing to the food that was already present on the table and answering Yubin’s silent question.

Minji shifts a little, the tension suffocating, before she decides to speak up. “It’s nice to see you again. I hope your trip was fine.” She says carefully, a kind smile on her features as you raise your eyes to meet hers. “It was alright.” Was your curt reply and Dong rolled her eyes before giving you a nudge on the side.

You give your sister a small glare before clearing your throat. “Right. Well, there was something I’ve been meaning to say.” You tell them and all eyes are on you, all of them listening very carefully while you keep a calm look on your face. “I am aware that my actions towards you all have been very childish and unpleasant.” You begin, and they aren’t sure if you notice the silent exchange they send each other or just chose to ignore it. “I didn’t make the effort to get to know any of you and merely aimed my anger and selfishness towards you all. For that, I’d like to properly apologize.”

The table is quiet for a while, the six girls looking at you in surprise and disbelief, and while you didn’t show it, you were a little nervous.

Thankfully, Yubin manages to recover before offering you a smile. “I understand why you acted the way you did, and it’s okay. I’m sure I would feel the same if I were in your shoes.”  She assures and it’s like a chain reaction before everyone starts talking. “We get it, really. Family is really important to you.” Yoohyeon is the one to say, and while it was different for her, she does understand being separated from a loved one.

Slowly, the tension starts to melt away. And while it was still a little awkward, the girls found a little bit of comfort in your presence the longer you all spoke to one another. Much like Dong when she first arrived in South Korea, you weren’t too talkative.

You were still quietly gauging each of the girls’ personalities, though you knew enough about Bora to know she would take care of your sister, soulmate or not.

They all cared for one another and you could see that your little sister was, in fact, happy where she was. This was her home away from home, and you didn’t have the heart to keep blaming these girls when they made sure she was loved and taken care of.

Resigning to that fact, you decided that maybe this was for the best. You couldn’t cling to your childhood forever and it was probably time to move on.

While you're so stuck in thought, you failed to catch how Yoohyeon had accidentally knocked a bowl with her hand, effectively spilling its contents. Unfortunately, the soup in it was still hot and you were quick to wince when it came in contact with your skin.

What no one was also expecting though, was the yelp that came from across your seat. Minji had clutched her left hand in an attempt to soothe the sudden ache and Dong looked more than surprised as you cradled the exact same hand.

“Unnie, are you alright?" Gahyeon’s question caught your ears and Siyeon’s eyes widened as both you and the leader answered at the same time.

“I'm okay."

The table grew silent as the two of you finally looked up, Minji’s face growing pale when she realized what was happening. She had kept her soulmate link open, and by doing so led her connection to experience the same pain her soulmate was experiencing.

That soulmate… was you.

“I'm, uh, going to ask for more napkins." Yubin quietly muttered as she swiftly left the table and Gahyeon squirmed as her eyes shifted from one person to another. The silence was deafening at this point and Dong wasn't sure how to proceed as she looked towards Bora.

The dancer looked worried above all else, but the disbelief still showed. “I think-”

"Excuse me.”

Dong made a sound of protest as she watched you get up and leave the table. "Jie!” With a quick nod from her girlfriend, your sister quickly followed after you while the rest of the girls did their best to process what just transpired.

"So Jiu unnie’s soulmate…" 

“I can't believe you jinxed it!" Yoohyeon squeaked while Siyeon tended to the leader’s hand, making sure it didn't hurt too much. “Oh god, Jiu unnie is… no, I can't even think about it.” Bora rolled her eyes at the maknae’s antics before she took the napkins from Yubin’s hands and began to wipe away the spilled soup. “Stop acting like Y/n’s some sort of disease."

“But she hates us!" Yoohyeon protested. “How can she be Jiu unnie’s soulmate?" Minji, who had been quiet the whole time, finally snaps out of her daze before looking around to assess what was happening.

She took note of the absence of you and Dong, so she's quickly on her feet and catching everyone off guard. “Unnie?" 

“Where are they?" She almost feels panicked at the thought that you’d left, but Siyeon gently tugs her back down to sit. “Unnie, I think you need to let them talk and let Y/n calm down." She says softly and the leader purses her lips together. "But I… we…"

Bora frowns at her friend before shaking her head. “Just let them talk for now, okay?" And as much as Minji wants to go and chase after you right now, she reluctantly obliged, sitting stiffly in her seat while the others did their best to try and distract her.

It takes around ten minutes before Dong is walking back, a regretful look on her face, and Minji’s shoulders tense up when she doesn't see you anywhere. “Unnie went home." Oh.

Instantly, there's sorrow in the leader's chest with knowing that her soulmate intentionally chose to leave after finding out who she was. While you may not be on the best of terms, she at least hoped that you would open up to the idea and talk to her. Since you were now living in South Korea, she thought this might be your chance to repair the relationship that you had and maybe work on your bond.

But that didn't seem like the case.

“The food’s been paid for but… do you guys still want to stay?” Dong asks with a frown and Minji looks at her with pleading eyes. "Did she leave already?” She can't help asking and Dong gives her a look, analyzing her friend, and she's not sure whether or not she wants to answer.

But she knows Minji.

"She's waiting for her ride.”

That's all it takes for the leader to shoot out of her seat and out of the restaurant in hopes of catching you before your ride gets there. While Yoohyeon and Gahyeon wanted to protest, their respective partners both stopped them.

By the time Minji’s out the door, she feels the chill bite at her skin for a split second before it's mellowed down. Her heart skips a beat at the thought but pushes it down as she focuses on the task at hand. It doesn't take her long to find you though because there's only a few people there. She sees the way you rub your burnt hand and her own skin tingles at the slight pain that lingered.

"Can we talk?”

“You and I have no business with each other that would require-”

“You know that’s not true… not anymore at least.” You were stubborn, Minji knew that. But she wasn’t about to give up on a chance that allowed her to connect with someone on such a deeper level that even her words were no longer needed.

But you were having none of it. Soulmates be damned. You were not about to do that, not with her.

“It’s a stupid connection. It doesn’t mean anything to me.” You turn to give her a sharp look. “It shouldn’t mean anything to you either.” All words die in her throat when a car finally pulls up and you open the door, stepping inside without saying anything more than you already have.

Minji all but watches as you slip from her fingers and disappear into the night, leaving her with an aching heart and shattered hope.

..

“Unnie, are you sure?” Dong pants when she hunches over, hands on her knees while she tries to catch her breath and Minji puts away her nearly empty water bottle, blinking up at the rest of her team with an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry, I just keep messing up this one part.” She says regretfully and Bora gives her a look that basically screams “shut up or I just might strangle you”.

“It’s only just a little bit more practice and you girls will be free to go so don’t worry.” Sooyeon promises them and Yubin shakes her head with a grin. “It’s okay, unnie. We can handle it.” However, no one is able to pick up on the wince that the leader shows after finally stretching her arms and legs. Siyeon had only spared her a questioning stare before she’s being bothered by the overgrown puppy of the group as Bora marches in their direction.

“You alright to keep going?” Sooyeon asks her when she sees the leader staring, but Minji is quick to snap out of her thoughts and flashes a grin, nodding her head and calling everyone to attention.

The pain lingers, but she manages to push through until maybe the week after.

She quietly asked Siyeon to get her some hot packs to put on the sore area along with her legs one night before she’s just about ready to call it quits.

“Handong?”

The familiar voice meets everyone’s ears when the door opens and a dancer is quick to point to your sister, who spins around in surprise. “Jie jie! What are you doing here?” She asks when she walks over. “Actually, how did you get here?” She adds with her brows pinched together and you frown before handing her the plastic bag you were carrying. “I have a phone, you idiot.”

Bora walks over to join you, given that you were a little more welcoming of her now that you were living here and managed to get to know her on the few instances Dong had forced you to spend time together. “What’s that you got there?” She inquires while your sister finally looks at the contents of the bag, her face lighting up when she sees a few familiar names inside. “Aww! You didn’t have to come here and bring us food!” She laughed when she noticed the embarrassment on your face.

Minji blanches at the sight of you and basically shrinks next to the maknae who looks worriedly at her. “We can go out if you want, unnie.” She whispers, but the eldest only offers her a smile before shaking her head, letting out a shaky breath. “It’s okay.”

“Anyway, shouldn’t you be at work right now?” Dong asks when Bora takes the bag to set aside, telling everyone that you had gotten something for them, too. “I clocked out early. I wasn’t feeling too good.” You mumble before your sister raises a brow. “So you decided to come here instead of going home and resting?”

“I wanted to be more involved in your life.”

Your sister pauses at your words before a smile blooms across her face and a poke landed on your cheek. “You’re getting soft.” She teased and you crinkle your nose while swatting her hand away. “Shut up and go back to practice. Everyone is looking at us.”

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

With a laugh, Dong skips over to join the rest of her friends while you take a seat on one of the chairs to watch them do their work. While you were someone who worked in the world of business, you were honest when you told your sister that you wished to be more involved. So you pay attention to their choreography with rapt attention.

And while you don’t intend on doing so, your eyes gravitate towards the woman who was, in your opinion, a little more sluggish than she should be. It caused your brows to raise before pain flared throughout the entirety of your left side. Immediately, your hand reaches to try and soothe it, but the pain is persistent so you’re quick to look at the raven haired woman who is trying her best to power through whatever pain she was dealing with without realizing that she still kept her soulmate link open.

Looks like you were more tired than you let on because you did the same.

However, when you began to feel the sudden influx of her pain, your frown only deepened before you decided to slowly absorb whatever it was she was feeling, feeling a little relieved when she starts to move a lot more comfortably than when you arrived.

It’s like that for the rest of their practice as you quietly watched and accepted your soulmate’s discomfort without her knowledge.

“Will you be coming over tonight?” Dong asks when she comes back to you, candy in hand, and you shake your head, wincing when the nausea hits harder. “I just wanted to watch.” She scoffs before lightly punching your arm and you almost curse at how much that hurt. “You could have just gone ahead, dummy.”

Your brows knit together and at this point, Minji was already looking at you from where she stood. “I just felt like it. Now, shut up.” You grumble before swiftly walking out of the room and your sister laughs as she chases after you. “Jie jie, come on!” But your only goal right now was to escape and hide the fact that you had used your soulmate link to help Minji despite how you’ve been ignoring her.

Hell, you’ve been making her feel like utter shit with the way you talked to her since finding out she was your soulmate, but you had no idea that she was dealing with something like this.

“Be sure to eat when you get to your dorm and don’t stay up late.” You instruct as you reach your car, a pout forming on the latter’s lips as she crosses her arms. “Since when did you turn into mom?” She asks and you give her a look before getting inside. “I mean it, Dongdong.”

Sighing, she nods her head before giving you a quick hug and then shutting your door. “I will. Get some rest, okay? You look like you’re about to pass out or something.”

Shooting her a smile, you nod to the rest of the girls over her shoulder, eyes meeting Minji’s before you finally bid them all a goodnight and drive off.

As soon as you’re out of sight, Dong just stands there, but her smile is nowhere in sight as she lowers her hand and frowns in the direction you took. “Dongie?” Bora is quick to her side, noticing the sudden shift in her mood before her girlfriend shook her head. “I’ll check on unnie tomorrow.” Is all she says before she’s leading the two of them to the van that was waiting for them.

..

While you did avoid your soulmate like the plague, you do show up to a handful of their practices ever since then. Minji obviously noticed due to how her eyes would immediately gravitate towards you whenever you entered the room. She didn't mean to, but knowing that you were her soulmate had shifted something within her and she's a little frustrated knowing how your relationship was.

But since the first visit, Minji did notice how she was slowly feeling better. And at one point she did believe that she was finally well rested without knowing that you were the actual reason that she was better. Maybe the only time that she got a hunch was when you didn't come to their practice and she could feel the same throb on her side as before you had come to visit them.

“Y/n isn't here today?" Bora voiced out one time and Minji looked up to see your sister shaking her head in response. “She hasn't been answering any of my texts either so I think she's busy at work.” Dong tells them and Minji can't help but frown.

While you were a busy person, you always had time to text your sister on your whereabouts even though you’ve been living in South Korea for a month now.

"Doesn't unnie usually still text you though?” Yubin voices out Minji’s original thoughts. Even though she's admittedly still intimidated by your presence, Yoohyeon did show concern when she notices a difference in your usual routine. “The last message she sent me was three hours ago. She should be done with work by now.” Dong mumbles while she tries to send you another text. However when there’s still no response from you, she purses her lips before finally dialing your number.

“Maybe she’s just asleep, unnie.”

“She would have told me that she was headed home at least." Dong bites her lip as she anxiously waits for you to pick up the phone. However as soon as the line connects, she breathes out a heavy sigh of relief. “Yah! What are you doing? I've been trying to contact you-"

Everyone watches as the resident cat went quiet, her expression hardening as she listened to whoever seemed to have your phone at the moment. “What room?" Is all they hear before she's thanking the person and then quickly reaching for her bag.

“Unnie, I need to go to the hospital."

Bora and Minji’s faces were both of surprise and shock, but the former says nothing more as she follows after her soulmate while the leader and the rest of the members hurried after them. "Y/n unnie is at the hospital?” Yoohyeon asks while she did her best to avoid tripping over her own feet. "What happened?”

"That's what I want to know, too.”

As everyone huddled inside the car, Dong stares at her phone with Bora gently coaxing her into talking to her. Meanwhile, Minji’s mind can't help but run around at the possible reasons as to why you would be in the hospital.

For some reason it saddens her how she can't even feel anything that you may be feeling at the moment and all she can think of is how you've cut your connection off. It stings, but she refuses to be selfish right now and focuses on keeping her member calm and the rest in check.

As soon as they get to the hospital, Dong is the first one out and is quickly asking for directions to your room. She has no room for anything else at the moment. She just needed to see where you were. So she skips the elevator and opts for the stairs, taking two steps at a time and ignoring the protests of her roommate and soulmate.

“Uh, do you know where we're going?" Yubin can't help but question. Still no response. “Dongie, slow down or you might trip." Siyeon warns, only for the said female to abruptly turn down the next corridor, causing Yoohyeon to nearly crash into the dancer’s back.

Your sister would apologize to them later, probably. Right now, she was more concerned about your condition. When her eyes spotted the room number you were in, she quickly reached for the door before pushing it open.

“Jie jie?"

Inside, she immediately finds you sitting on the hospital bed. She's quick to give you a once over before she notices the bags under your eyes and that your skin lacks color. Her brows pinch together in worry as she comes closer and you turn your head when you hear their group.

“Dongie, what are you doing here?" Minji frowns at the question, but Dong merely scoffs as she crosses her arms across her chest. “What am I doing here? What happened to you?" She all but seethes. “You weren't answering any of my texts and when I call you, it's someone from work telling me that you're at the hospital?" Your frown deepens when the guilt stems in your chest the more your sister speaks. “I told you not to overwork yourself."

The rest of the girls are a little surprised, but then again this was her sister. It was understandable that she was upset right now.

“Dongdong, calm down." Minji gently soothes as Bora grabs her soulmate’s hand. “I know you're upset, but Y/n needs to rest right now, okay?" You watch as the leader tries to coax your sister but the glare she has is still fixed on your face as she waits for an explanation.

“It's okay." You finally interrupt. Looking around, you breathe out a sigh before gesturing for everyone to take a seat. “I suppose you'll all be here for a while so please have a seat somewhere."

“Jie-"

“I'm sorry." You cut your sister off with a heartfelt apology. “I didn't mean to worry you. In fact, I didn't think this would happen in the first place." You tell her, leaning back against the bed. “What exactly happened then?”

You're quiet for a moment, carefully considering whether or not to tell the truth with all of her members present. But then again, you were seeing them in a completely different light especially after you've been experiencing how exhausted Minji’s felt ever since you arrived.

"Jiu-ssi.”

Everyone looked surprised when you called their leader, but your soulmate only looked at you as your eyes met hers. "You haven't been feeling anything for a while, have you?” It was a simple question, but Gahyeon only frowned at the implication. "Why are you asking Jiu unnie?” But Yubin had placed a hand on the maknae’s knee while Minji shifted in her seat. "Not… really. I only got a little sore after some of our practices but they pretty much went away after."

She doesn't understand why this was relevant. You'd severed your connection with her ever since you found out she was your soulmate. It was why she couldn't feel an ounce of the pain you were feeling.

“As it turns out, the pain that you've been feeling for the past month has only been accumulating."

What?

“You were experiencing some pain on your sides the day I first visited Dongie at your company. I noticed that you weren't exactly comfortable when you were dancing so I tried something.” Wait, did that mean… “When I had reopened our soulmate bond, I was able to take that pain away, along with every other discomfort you had been feeling at the time." 

Minji’s eyes widened at the admission and her back grew stiff. “I also noticed how the pain was becoming more frequent so I opted to just leave the link open." You then shake your head when you remember where you were. “Unfortunately, it looks like I've overestimated myself.”

“But I thought…”

"How come unnie never felt anything from you?” Siyeon asks when she notices that the leader was unable to find her voice. "A soulmate link can be made one way. So I opted to keep her out while letting her pain in.” Dong took your hand in hers when she took the seat closest to the bed. “You should know how exhausting that can be. You should have said something.” Your sister scolds and you only smile while squeezing her hand. "After what I said to her…" You tear your eyes away from your sister to look at your soulmate. “I thought maybe this was my way of possibly apologizing." 

Minji couldn’t believe her ears, but at the same time, she was deeply moved with how you had decided to take all of her pain away even when you had told her that it all meant nothing to you. All this time she believed that you had no care for her and yet… you had been taking care of her without her knowledge.

“I know that I overreacted when I found out, but the truth is that I’m afraid of what this link may bring me.” You finally admit with a heavy breath. “I didn’t want to have another thing possibly be taken from me again, so I opted to just push you away rather than accept you and the bond that we have.”

Sensing the sensitivity of the conversation, Dong quickly gestured for everyone to get out of the room. And while Yoohyeon wanted to protest, her soulmate placed a hand over her mouth and merely dragged her outside. Bora sent her best friend a look while Dong gave you a smile before they both closed the door, leaving the two of you alone.

“I’m sorry, Jiu-ssi. I know that you’ve been miserable since we last spoke but I guess I was too prideful to admit that I was in the wrong in the first place.” You tell her and Minji forced herself to stand back up before slowly approaching your bed.

“I… can’t say that it was okay but… I do understand where you’re coming from.” She finally says while gripping her own hands. “Your sister left, you were hurt. So now that there’s something else to lose, you’re afraid.” She had hit a nail on that one as you dropped your gaze down to your lap and Minji felt her heart skip as she stopped at the edge of your hospital bed. “But Y/n… you need to know that I don’t give up on the things that matter to me.”

You lift your head in surprise to see her already staring at you, a warm look on her face as she assesses you and you wonder deep down why she isn’t screaming at you, cursing you for hurting her. “How can you possibly forgive me?” It comes out of your mouth before you can even think, and she only gives you a smile.

“I’d like to think that I’m not like most people. And if you give me a chance… maybe we can get to know more about each other's soulmate better?”

#girl group #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #dreamcatcher #dreamcatcher imagines #dreamcatcher scenarios #jiu #jiu scenarios #jiu imagines #jiu x reader #kim minji #dreamcatcher x reader

[greyeyedmonster-18]

(ive been away from tumblr etc for the better part of a month, i'm not "back" quite yet, but I've spent some time "catching up" so to speak this evening and have a bit of a heavy heart.

some i already knew-- death threats, death threats and more death threats. hate mail.

my friends leaving fandoms they love. people i barely speak to burning out and needing a break from their fics and the constant/consistent stream of "update??????" and rudeness.

and i just need to say that there is an alarming pattern of bx i see, where the authors and creators that make themselves the most accessible and approachable and welcoming to their anons and their followers and readers are often the ones who get shit on first. yall take their openness as an excuse to be dicks. period. you take the people who are willing to have a convo with everyone, who make discords and mod fests, or give people chances and run them into the ground when they post something you dont agree with. the second they post something you don't agree with or write something you don't agree with. or update on a schedule that doesnt align with yours. or write a new ship that isnt part of the #brand. or whatever it might be. and you've made yourselves so comfortable with someone who is FRIENDLY online that you take it as permission to take a shit on the carpet in someone elses home.

and i understand thats a weird metaphor, but i don't much care. y'all forget these tumblrs, these works are still the creators. it is not your space. i repeat: it is not your space. and while they may be welcoming and happy to have you in it--it is still not yours.

and as someone who operates on the opposite end of the spectrum where i don't interact a lot with my readers or my anons or even my mutuals, and occasionally gets a nasty anon about this (cue the folks who @ me for not reccing their fics or doing their prompts; cue that one person who told me i was an asshole, which like, fair enough), i also want to say you can't have it both ways. you cannot be graciously invited into someone else home and then ask them to change the colors of the duvets to suit you. it is not your space.

that is all).

#cw: death threat mention #general observations on fandom culture #ya know. along with other artists stealing from artists here #this is also a trend ive noticed #you dont shit where you eat yall #if you dont like something #then move along #(also please note that i understand there is nuance in this) #(and there is a difference between 'i dont like this' and 'this is straight up WRONG') #(though tbh im not going to unpack the nuances in that on here either) #also feel like some of yall need a reminder that even if it feels like you know us...you don't #we have whole ass LIVES and things and even if we are open about facets of it online...you still dont KNOW us #and so if you're like 'well its okay for me to say it because i KNOW them #we're friends!! #no. #even my friends are not allowed to shit on my carpet or leave their shoes on #whats more my friends tell OTHER PEOPLE to take their shoes off #you know? #cool. #have a nice day. #disappearing again

[satorusugurugurl]

JJK Men: FWB? No, I wanna be your boyfriend!

Summary: Your Friends with Beneifit's partner realizes they want to be more!

Characters: Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, FAB!Reader

Word Count: 3,957

Warnings: FWB, smut, oral sex, fluffy feelings, public sex

A/N: Ah, FWB, but more. Delicious smut; the brainworms were good to me! 🤣❤️

Nanami Kento:

Nanami pouted, his eyes focused on your back as some guy flirted with you. He hated seeing other people looking at his best friend like you were just a snack. It made him sick to his stomach. No one would treat you better than him. But you two agreed: friends with benefits, nothing more than that. All because Nanami thought it would help with not ruining your friendship.

And it did. Things were never awkward. You both had sex, got off, and it was perfect! No more creepy Tinder dates for you; Nanami wasn't stressed out as much. Plus, he got to remain friends with you. The arrangement was without flaw. Expect moments like this.

When he saw other people watching you, how you flirted back with the smile that had him raging, he wanted the source of your smile. Usually, when this sort of thing happened, he turned away, but something about this guy had him on edge. He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat, something to take home and fuck. You didn't deserve that. You deserve the best.

“Ooh, they fuckin.” Nanami flushed deep red as he turned to glare at Gojo, who was whispering to Geto.

“Satoru, please, it's rude to assume that,” Geto whispered back, eyeing Nanami. It was when the dark-haired man saw the flush on Nanami’s face and neck that he gaped. “Oh my god, they are fuckin’.”

“Shut up, we're just friends with benefits.”

“Oooh, Suguru, do you want to tell him?”

“Mmm nah, you go ahead, Satoru.”

Gojo leaned forward, smirking at Nanami. “Friends with Benefits don't glare daggers at strangers their FWB is talking to. Not unless they want more~.” With flushed cheeks, Nanako got up, downing the last of his drink. “Ooh, what are you going to do?!”

“Fuck you.”

“Eeeh, sorry buddy, that's Suguru’s job!”

“Satoru.” Geto purred with a smirk.

Nanami could care less about who was fucking who in their relationship. The only person he was concerned with fuckin was you. But not in the way he usually would, no, not anymore.

He stormed towards you, grabbing your wrist gently. The sudden contact had you jumping as Nanami pulled you up. He didn't say a word as he dragged you away from the asshole hitting on you. You were too stunned to speak as Nanami pulled you into the bathroom, taking you to the back stall.

Standing in the corner, you gawked as he locked the stall door. “Okay, what the actual fuck Nanami?” You were slightly annoyed, tapping your shoe against the dirty tile floor. “I was enjoying my conversation with that guy!”

“The guy that looked at you like you were a piece of ass?”

His straightforward response caught you off guard. “Huh?”

“That guy would take you home, fuck you, and never call you back because that’s the type of guy he looks like!”

“Oh? And since when do you concern yourself with my dating life? We're friends, Nanami! You're not my boyfriend!”

“Oh, I'm much more than just a friend!” Nanami crowded you, slamming both hands on the wall on either side of your head. “I’m your best friend! I'm your colleague! I’m your lover!”

His anger left the two of you stunned; your heart was racing as he inched closer to you. “You set up our arrangement. You said this was for the best; we wouldn't ruin our friendship if we kept it casual. You said that!” Nanami watched your cheeks burn, your eyes avoiding his at all costs.

“You're right. This was my arrangement. And I don't think I can do it anymore.”

That caught your attention, Y/E/C eyes finding his honey-brown ones in a flash. “What?! No, why?!” Nanami’s large hand cupped your face.

“Because I find myself wanting more. I want you, Y/N, I want all of you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

The confession, the anger, all of that collided together in a heated kiss. You both made quick work; you unbuckled his belt, and he slid your dress up past your hips, moving your panties to the side. When you were in a moment like this, you moved in sync. There were no fumbling or awkward movements. Just perfect flowing movements, much like dancers or ice skaters who had been perfecting their art for decades. That was the perfect way to describe how you and Nanami moved together.

Your back was against the cold stall, legs wrapped around Nanami’s hips as he fucked you. His cock slid in and out of you like it had done hundreds of times before, finding a rhythm he knew the two of you enjoyed. That was one of the many joys of fucking your best friend. Everything was easy and comfortable.

“Nanami, fuck your cock is so big.”

”Yeah? Your pussy is tight; it’s like they were made for each other.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, moaning in surprise as his hips snapped forward. “It’s like a puzzle.” Your words were meant to be a joke, based on what he said. But they meant the world to Nanami.

”Yes, you’re right.” His lips found yours, nipping at your lips. “That’s exactly what you are to me, Y/N.” His hips moved harder, the stall creaking under the force as you yelped out in pained pleasure. The tip of his cock hitting your cervix with each powerful thrust.

”W-What am I to you?” Nanami mewled as your fingers ran through his hair before rubbing against his undercut. “Tell me.” Your voice was caught in a moan as one of his hands reached down, rubbing your clit. “N-Nana, fuck, fuck yes.”

”You’re my other half, my missing piece.” He growled against your skin, his hot tongue licking at your pulse. “You’re my favorite person.” He chuckled, teeth grazing your skin. “And I want to be with you.”

You were hearing the words you had been wanting to hear for years sent you into orgasmic bliss. You screamed, pussy clamping down on Nanami, milking him as he grunted against your skin. His hips slammed against you, his hot cum filling you to the brim until his cock had gone soft. He kept you pinned against the stall, breathing heavily against your flushed skin before he felt your hands lazily play with his hair again.

When he pulled back to meet your gaze, he swore his heart skipped a beat. You were smiling so softly, with an expression he’d never seen. A mixture of satisfaction and happiness. It had butterflies, butterflies of all things swarming around the pit of his stomach. He can’t stop leaning in, kissing you the softest he’s ever kissed.

”So,” you whispered against his lips, “does this mean you’ll finally stay the night with me?”

Nanami shakes his head with a chuckle as the two of you readjust your clothes and straighten your hair. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll stay the night, and then I’ll take you on a proper date tomorrow.” He gently takes your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. “How does that sound, Y/N?” You didn’t even need to respond for Nanami to know your answer. The wide grin and sparkle in the blue lights of the bathroom said it all.

”Sounds like a dream come true!”

Geto Suguru:

You looked at the clock with a groan, digging through your closet. You were going to be late for your date Shoko had set up. Your stupid cardigan had gone missing again. It was the only one you had, seeing as the other was on your desk chair at work. You couldn’t just go out in the early spring evening without a sweater! It was too hot for long sleeves and hoodies.

Lucky for you, Geto Suguru, your roommate's best friend, and your FWB had a sweater. One he was not currently using. You hurried out of your room, searching for the dark-haired man. He was in the living room, looking through the books, when he heard your heels clicking over the floor.

”Hey, do you still have that book I let you borr-“ Suguru choked on his words when he turned to look down at you. You were in a tight black lace bra, a push-up one that made your breasts look plumper than usual. The matching thong barely covered your pussy, leaving little to the imagination. “What the hell are you doing?!” Suguru barked out, head whirling for any peering eyes that might not be his own.

”Relax, Satoru has seen me naked before.” Seeing Suguru’s eyebrows ccock up, you shook your head. “Chill out. I forgot to lock the bathroom door. I haven't slept with him.” Your eyes did a glance over the living room, pouting when you couldn’t find your sweater still. “Could I borrow your sweater? I can’t find mine, and I would rather not freeze tonight.”

Relieved to know Satoru had only seen you naked by accident, Suguru shrugged out of his black sweater, promptly handing it to you. “Where are you going? Book club, drinks with the girls?” You answered with a shake of your head, heading back to the bedroom.

”Nope, I got a date.”

Before you could take another step, Suguru held your wrist. You turned your head, looking at him from over your shoulder. His dark eyes were wide, gaze locked on yours. It was shocking to see him so stunned. He was usually calm and collected.

You turned around, looking him over, trying to pinpoint the source of his shock. While your Y/E/C eyes searched over him, his hands ran up your arms, gently holding you. This was a side of him you never saw, so gentle and unsure.

“Date? What do you mean you have a date?”

“Oh, yeah, Shoko set it up for me.” Suguru clenched his teeth, his eyes now roamed over your body. He was taking in the curves and dips of your skin. Every part he had caressed and kissed. “She said it was time for me to get back on the playing field.”

Shaking his head, Suguru gently ran his hands up to your shoulders. “Why? You have me. Don't I satisfy your needs?” You laughed, cocking an eyebrow up at him. “Why are you looking at me like that, Y/N? I'm being serious!” His frustration only made you giggle more as you shook your head in disbelief.

“Suguru, you told me that you didn't want a relationship. That what we had was just sex. Someone we could turn to when we were horny, no strings attached.”

“I know I said that.”

“Then why are you being so weird about me going out on a date?”

Yeah, why was the thought of you going out with someone else making his stomach do cartwheels? You both agreed to hook up whenever you wanted. But just because you fucked, didn't mean you were his girlfriend. He had specified that part himself.

The no-strings-attached policy was just something he had said in the spur of the moment. He had so many thoughts running through his mind as the two of you made out. Would Satoru be mad at him for sleeping with his roommate? Would it make things awkward for the two of you when he came over? In the heat of the moment, three months ago, that was the most reasonable thing he thought to say.

”Because I want to be the only person you date.” His words were confident and to the point. Not leaving any thoughts of doubt behind.

You were still left staring at him in utter confusion. “But you said no strings attached!?” Your brain was beginning to hurt with the back-and-forth banter.

“Ugh!” He released you, throwing his head back. “I know I said that and trust me, I wish I could take back that singular sentence. I was thinking about all the ifs and ands when I should have been focusing on the cold, hard truth.” He began pacing, his eyes glued to the floor as he continued to rant. “The truth is, I like you. I’ve liked you for the last year, but I didn’t want to make you feel weird or have Satoru pissed off that I slept with you.”

“Suguru.”

“But sleeping with you made me like you even more! I just fuck; I regret saying that because I don’t want to be friends with benefits anymore. I want to be the one taking you out on dates! I want to be the only guy in your bed and vice versa. After we hooked up, I deleted all the dating apps, and I just.” He huffed out a sigh, turning to look at you. “I want you.”

Fuck, he shouldn’t have ranted like that. But what else could he have done? He had to get it off his chest before you went on your date. At least let you know how he felt before you went out with someone else. The ball was in your court now. That might be the most terrifying part of this whole mess he found himself in.

His dark eyes were glued to the floor as he listened to your heels clicking as you stood before him. Bracing himself for rejection or anything else, Suguru looked up, meeting your flushed face and a wide smile. Seeing you like that had him stepping forward, closing the distance between you.

”You deleted all of your dating apps after the first time we hooked up?” He nodded his head. “In the last three months, you haven’t been with anyone but me?’ Another nod. “You want to be with me?”

”Yes! I want that more than anything.”

You threw your arms around him, kissing him deeply as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling tight against him. Your kiss held as much truth as his words had. It was feverish, deep, and full of passion. You were conveying the truth of your feelings for him without using words.

By the time you managed to pull yourself away, both of you were panting heavily. “Let me cancel this date, then maybe we could go out.” You breathed out between gasps. “I’m happy to have a boyfriend now, but I was sort of looking forward to getting eaten out tonight.” As your message went through, Suguru had you in his arms, tossing your phone on the couch.

Suguru had your back pinned against the wall, legs over his shoulders, as his hands held your ass. You gripped the wall as best as you could, heart racing from being so high off the ground as Suguru licked and sucked at your clit through your lace panties. He lapped and sucked at you like a man dying of thirst. His feral actions had you grabbing his smooth, dark hair, pulling it as you rocked against his face.

Suguru hummed, glancing at you before prodding your dripping entrance with his tongue. As he did, his heart almost stopped. His tongue had slid through a tiny opening in the center, meeting your dripping cunt. Eyes shot to your face, seeing the smirk tugging at your kiss-swollen lips.

“Never heard of crotchless panties, Sugu?”

There was no snarky remark or comeback. Just his tongue burying itself deep inside of you. You cried out, eyes shutting tight as he brushed his nose over your clit, shaking his head back and forth. You felt dizzy as his tongue swirled inside of you, lapping and rubbing against your inner walls.

Suguru was so skilled at using his mouth. His tongue mapped out every part of your pussy and entrance. The man loved to eat you out and make you feel so good. If his girlfriend wanted to get her pussy eaten, by god, she would. He'd make sure you’d never be left unsatisfied. If it took hours to make you cum on his tongue, then he'd take those hours, not stopping until you came, coating his face with your essence.

He was so worked up, just thinking about eating you out, making you feel good, that he groaned as you tugged hard on his hair. Little moans of ‘Suguru’ and ‘im cumming’ was all he could register before you were squirting all over his face. He shut his eyes as your juices coated his lips, tongue, and chin. His tongue kept moving until you were begging him to stop.

“Was that to your liking?” He asked gently, lowering you to the ground. “Satisfied? Or do you n-nngh!” His words were caught in his throat, eyes darting down to where you had his cock in a vice grip.

“Shut the fuck up and come fuck your girlfriend into the mattress.” Suguru didn't need you to tell him twice, especially when you called yourself his girlfriend.

Toji Fushiguro:

“This is me.” You nervously laughed as your creepy Tinder date eyed the building you didn't live in. “Thanks for the date, it was fun.” Yeah, it was a lot of fun getting felt up and paying for the dinner he told you he would buy, but he just so happened to forget his wallet.

“You don't want to invite me up?” the creepy guy asked as you hit the buzzer three times. “I thought you might want some dessert. I have a great cream filling for you to try.”

“No, I'm good.”

“Don't be a bitch; come on, let me in.”

“I said I’m good!”

“Stupid fuc—”

The door to the apartment complex swung open, and a firm hand grabbed you, pulling you inside. “She said no, go fuck yourself.” without another word, the door slammed shut. “Fuck, you sure know how to pick them.” you pressed your face into your FWB’s chest, his hand rubbing your back soothingly.

“Holy fuck, that was super scary thanks Toji.” Your hands gripped his shirt, holding yourself upright as he sighed.

“Why do you put yourself through this?” Toji asked, leading you to the elevator. “Honestly, you should know better than to go out with creeps like that one.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping onto the elevator with him. “I just want to find my person.” Those words had Toji glaring down at you. “Not all of us can be satisfied with random hookups with friends.” The elevator opened on the third floor, and you stepped out.

“Random hookups?” His tone was dry. “You think that's what this is between us?”

“You're really to look at me and tell me they aren't?” He grabbed your attention arm, glaring down at you. “This is just to blow off steam, right?”

You and Toji had slept together on multiple occasions. After a long week of work, a bad day when you were feeling down. He was always the one you went to when you needed to vent, have a good laugh, or have sex. Toji was your friend, and you loved him, but he didn't love you the same way. He was a single dad, taking care of his son Megumi. He didn't have time to date and all that other stuff. Once in a while, a good fuck with you was enough to fulfill his needs.

So when your best friend dragged you into his apartment and slammed the door behind him, you swallowed the lump forming in your throat. His eyes were dark and narrow with frustration and anger. A look you rarely saw directed towards you. You felt so small under his gaze it had you stepping back., the back of your knees hitting the couch.

“Do you honestly think I would hook up with you to blow off steam? You’re the same woman I have over for dinner, the woman I sleep with, the only other person I trust with Megumi!” His anger was palpable as you crawled onto the couch, your eyes never leaving his as he followed you. “I didn't put a label on this,” his hand motioned between you, “you did!”

“So what are you saying?!”

“I'm saying you're the only one going on stupid dates! I'm not! If you want more, say it! You're a grown-ass adult. You can do what you want, Y/N! And so can I!” He crawled on top of you. “So, for once in your life, can you please be honest?!”

You felt your nose and eyes burning with tears. Was he saying what you thought he was? That he wanted to be more, but you were holding back? Had you been the one keeping the FWB label on your relationship?

The longer you stare into his dark eyes, the more your face softens. Toji was always the one you ran to after a stupid Tinder date. He was the only person you slept with, the only man you wanted to be with, and Megumi, god, you lived that kid like he was your son. You couldn't find your person through random people because you already found him.

Your person was Toji.

Your hands gently reached up, cupping his face. “You want me?” Your voice was shaky and hesitant, scared to hear his answer.

“Of fuckin’ course I want you, Y/N.” he turned towards your hand, kissing your palm. “You idiot, it took you that long to see it?”

“You could have said something.” Your teasing tone was cut off by his hands working on your leggings. “Toji, wait, what are you doing? Megumi’s in the other room.”

Toji didn't respond to you; he just tugged his sweats down, tucking the band of them under his balls. “I’m not good with words. So I’ll show you how much I want you.” He rubbed his cock up and down over your folds before slowly pressing into you.

Soft moans and whines escaped you both as Toji slowly began to fuck you inside the couch. His hand grabbed at your hips, breasts, and thighs. Touching you everywhere he could as his cock pressed in and out of you, fucking you deeper and harder with each thrust of his hips. Toji pressed hot kisses against your lips. Each kiss, touch, and thrust told you everything you needed to know.

“I love you.” You cried out without thinking as he pressed into your g-spot. The sudden outburst had Toji freezing above you, hips pausing mid-thrust. Sweat slowly dripped down his temple as his mind replayed your words.

“What was that?”

“I said I love you.”

Toji’s eyes widened in surprise as he felt something unlock inside him. Whether it was his heart or sick throbbed inside of you, he couldn't tell. “Fuck,” he whispered, eyes drifting down your body. “Fuck.” Toji pulled all the way out before slamming hard into you. “Fuck!!” He growled, slamming into you harder and deeper with each thrust. “Love you too, fuck, I love you.”

Your eyes rolled back as you felt yourself drawing closer and closer to your orgasm. Toji reached over you, grabbing the arm of the couch for support as he drilled into you. Holy fuck, this was intense, so fucking intense. Your moans grew louder before he clamped his other hand over your mouth.

“As much as I love you screaming my name, I would rather not have my kid catching us. So be a good girl and cum.” His raspy command and slamming into your g-spot was all you needed. You screamed into his hand, trembling under him as he gritted his teeth. “Cummin’ take it all, Y/N~!”

As the waves of pleasure died, Toji removed his hand, smiling at you. You returned his grin, kissing him softly. “Fuck, that was so good.” Toji chuckled, shifting so you both were lying on the couch.

“Y/N, everything is good when it comes to you.”

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk reader smut #jjk y/n #jjk #jjk reader insert #jjk men #jjk geto #reader jjk #jjk nanami #jjk toji #jjk geto smut #jjk nanami smut #jjk toji smut #suguru geto smut #nanami kento smut #toji fushiguro smut #geto x you #nanami x you #toji x you #geto smut #nanami smut #toji smut #jjk gojo smut #reader x suguru #kento x reader #reader x Toji #suguru x reader #reader x nanami

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Panic at the Disco

Summary: When you call your brother to pick you up from the club, it's his best friend who answers.

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader

WC: 1.3K

Warnings: Maybe slight panic attack, insinuated sexual harassment/assault

Part 2

Masterlist

You rush through the club in a hurry, bumping into God knows how many people as you search for the exit. The hot, stuffy air makes it even more difficult to breathe as you keep pushing through the crowd. You can feel the wetness of your tears run down your cheeks as you reach the exit, nearly running into the bouncer checking IDs outside. You stand close to him as you wipe your cheeks and sniffle, trying to calm yourself down while you rummage through your purse in search of your phone. Taking a deep breath, you call your brother.

You wait impatiently as the phone rings. He doesn’t answer, so you call again. And again. Eventually, after three tries, the phone is picked up. 

“Hello? Max?” You say rushedly.

You hear some noise on the other side. In your frenzy, you don’t realise it’s not your brother, not from the mere grumpy hello the phone is answered with.

“Can you come pick me up? Please?” The sheer panic you’re experiencing is clear in your voice. Lando can even hear your sniffling through the phone as you wipe your hand under your nose. 

“Y/N? Is that you? Are you crying?” He asks, much more awake now as he sits up from his position on the couch.

“Who’s this? Lando?” You realise now that you hear him speak; it's your brother’s best friend – to your frustration.

“Yes”

“Why are you answering my brother’s phone?” You ask annoyed.

“We were just hanging out, he fell asleep and-”

“You know what – it doesn’t matter. Can you tell him to come pick me up please?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m not sure, uhm, it’s called Palace, I think.” You sniffle, “You’ll send him to get me?” You ask hopefully.

“I’ll come get you myself. I’m just putting my shoes on, I’ll be there in a bit.” He says, putting your brother’s phone on speaker mode and stepping into his shoes.

“Lando you don’t have to come, just tell Max to come pick me up, please. I need him right now.” You say, frustrated that Lando wants to come. He’s not who you want and need at this moment; you need someone who you can trust, who’ll protect you and make you feel safe after what just happened. You need your brother, a close friend, or maybe even your father, but not Lando. Why can’t he understand that? You can feel your tears welling up again in frustration.

Lando ignores you, however. “Are you safe right now? You should try to find a group of people or something, stick to them until I get there, okay?”

“Lan-” He cuts you off, in a rush to get to you. 

“Do you want to stay on the phone? I’m getting in the car right now, I’ll be there in, like, eight minutes.”

“Lando, just send Max, please.”

“I’m already in the car. Do you want me to stay on the line, or not?” You hear the car revving in the background.

You sigh. Nevertheless, you’re relieved he’s on his way and you don’t have to stay here much longer. “That’s not necessary, Lando. I’m with the bouncer right now. Just come quick, please?” You’ve given up on the idea that your brother might come, Lando’s very much set in his ways.

“Of course, I’ll be right there.” Lando says firmly before hanging up.

Although you and Lando aren’t the best of friends, you get along well enough. Regardless, you get caught up in discussions quite regularly; both of you are passionate and stubborn in your opinions – it rarely happens that you and Lando do not end up being separated by your brother or a mutual friend. However, that you know exactly how to push each other's buttons doesn’t mean Lando doesn’t care about you. In fact, the opposite is true. Although he would never admit it, Lando has liked you for quite a while and cares for you deeply, even though he doesn’t generally show his feelings. And so, when you call him (well, not him specifically, but that doesn’t matter) crying and upset, he worries about you. He could’ve woken up your brother, who you obviously would have preferred over him, but he wants to be the one who’s there for you. He wants to be the one who protects you and keeps you safe – better yet, the one who makes you feel safe, if he could ever accomplish such a thing.

Lando exceeds his own expectations when he arrives at the nightclub in under five minutes. Already spotting you standing with the big, bulky bouncer, arms wrapped around yourself in an attempt to keep yourself warm in the cold, late night (or early morning) breeze. He carelessly parked his car on the side of the road, barely turning on the hazard lights before exiting the car. 

“Y/N! Are you okay?” He jogs towards the club entrance, concern showing on his face.

You lifted your head at the familiar voice yelling your name. Quickly thanking the bouncer who kept you company, you rushed over to the familiar boy. You had never been so happy to see Lando.

He pulled you into his arms as soon as you were within his reach. Cradling your head and brushing your hair with one hand, while the other pulled you closer by your waist. Although you initially wanted your brother to come, this was good too – you’d even go as far as to say you were enjoying it. Despite your differences, Lando’s presence (more specifically, his strong arms holding you tight) made you feel at ease and calmed you down. He relieved the tenseness of your body and you relaxed in his hold. Hiding your face in his neck and fisting the fabric of his shirt, you nestled yourself comfortably in Lando’s body and exhaled the breath you had been holding.

He buried his nose in your hair on the top of your head, breathing in your scent and smiling at the feeling of you snuggling into him. It felt right, so right, to be holding you like this. He whispers, “Are you okay?” You merely nod your head, not wanting to leave his embrace. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” He questions further.

You stay silent, enjoying Lando’s strong hold on you. It makes you feel safe. Safe enough to share what happened in the club. “There was some random guy who thought he was entitled to my attention.” You mumble into his neck.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?” He continues, already fearing the answer.

You let a silence fall before answering, “He did,”

Lando squeezes you tighter at the revelation. He’s not surprised a man ruined your fun night out.

You continue quickly, “But there were some girls who helped me, and I think they kicked him out. I’m not sure though, I left as soon as I could. Then I called Max, but he didn’t answer, and now…”

“I’m sorry,” Lando says, a pained expression on his face. “Men are shit.”

You let out a small laugh and Lando can barely avoid shivering at the feeling of your warm breath hitting the sensitive skin of his neck. Nevertheless, he smiles in accomplishment when he hears the sound, glad he could cheer you up.

“You want to go home? To my place, I mean, Max is there…”

“Yes,” You say into Lando’s neck, sighing before distancing yourself from him.

He kisses the top of your head before letting you leave his hold, “Let’s go then.” He says, pulling you along to his car, still tucked into his side.

– – – – –

Part 2

#Lando Norris #Lando #Norris #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Lando Norris fanfic #Lando Norris fanfiction #Lando fanfic #Lando fanfiction #Lando Norris x reader #Lando Norris x Y/N #Lando x reader #Lando x Y/N #Formula 1 #Formula 1 fanfic #Formula 1 fanfiction #F1 #F1 fanfic #F1 fanfiction #LN4 fanfic #LN4 fanfiction #LN4 x reader #LN4 x you #LN4 imagine #LN4 one shot #LN4 #Lando Norris one shot #Lando Norris imagine #Lando Norris x Fewtrell!reader

[its-your-mind]

ALWAYS rotating TAZ: Balance around in my brain like microwave but ESPECIALLY with the announcement of The Suffering Game graphic novel

The dope thing they can do (and are doing) with the graphic novel series is sprinkle in moments of foreshadowing and hints to the reader about what REALLY might be going on here, which is so cool and I’m a huge fan of it, especially when you’re telling a story in this form.

But what is REALLY FUCKING TASTY about Balance as a story is that none of the motherfuckers telling it had any clue what they were doing when they started

Gerblins is dick jokes and not knowing how dice work and making fun of each other for voices. LICHRALLY the scene where Taako grabs the Umbrastaff is immediately proceeded by Clint trying different voices for Merle while Justin begs him to stop, as Taako. Merle gets launched across the room cuz he failed his save, and now Taako has an umbrella. The scene moves on.

Griffin brought them up to the BOB, introduced them to the Director, and gave them memories of a war fought over nameless, lost, powerful but mysterious artifacts. The memory that Taako takes from it is the idea of soured cream (ya know, for his taco quest).

And then they’re off, on different adventures, making friends, saving lives, making more dick jokes, and Griffin is in the background, slowly building in the meta-plot, as all DMs do.

But this meta-plot was HUGE. It was ALL-CONSUMING. It completely changes everything we know about this world and these characters. It takes the moments of dick jokes, and arguments about character voices, and flirting with death, and adds a layer of tragedy and complexity that just wasn’t present the first time they told that story.

AND THAT’S WHY THIS STORY KICKS ASS. The vibe of the story changed as Tres Horny Boys grew closer and closer to remembering the lives they had lost, as Griffin upped the stakes, as people started dying. They still don’t know shit for most of The Suffering Game, but you absolutely could not have predicted the tone of that arc after just listening to Gerblins. It sounds like a completely different story. And so when the other shoe drops, when shit breaks bad, when it’s the end of the world… again, and they have to reclaim their Stolen Century…

It makes sense. The tone has shifted enough to accommodate that kind of change. The characters have grown (back) into themselves enough to make this work.

Because TAZ: Balance is a tragedy. But the tragedy happened before the podcast even started, and had been erased. So of course it started off with goofs and dildo jokes. Of course the three of them started being standoff-ish with each other and making light of every situation that should have had a lot more weight. They didn’t know what they had lost, and we, the audience, didn’t either. So it was easy to laugh and joke… until slowly, it wasn’t so much anymore.

Plenty of people have praised Griffin’s storytelling abilities, but I think the thing that was most impressive to me was how he took the disparate threads laid out behind the Boys on their adventures, and followed them backwards, into the story they had lost, and forwards, into the ending they earned. I fucking love that he settled on Istus as the deity to interact with them, because I don’t think there’s a better representation of the story Griffin was weaving behind the scenes of the arcs.

Story and Song wasn’t really an arc driven by dice rolls and role playing - but it wasn’t railroading either. Griffin took every story they had told, every happy ending they had fought for, and twined them around and through each other. The world was saved not because of a lucky nat 20 roll, but because every person they had helped through the story came out in force to fight beside them to save their world.

And so in the end, the Stolen Century was a tragedy. But The Adventure Zone: Balance was a story of hope, of family, of the power that just a few loveable doofuses can have when they move through the world, making friends and saving lives. So when the world was ending and they needed help, there were dozens of people waiting to hear the Story and the Song that would give them the push they needed to fight, and the hope they needed to win.

#taz #taz balance #taz balance spoilers #taako adventurezone #merle highchurch #magnus burnsides #McElroys #griffin mcelroy #the adventure zone

[writers-hes]

tell me you need me (1 of 2) | c. berzatto x reader

It was good when you started but Carmen Berzatto had the ability to make anyone fall in love with him no matter how much you tried not to. (friends with benefits!carmen, smut, mndi!!!, unprotected p in v, smut! smut!, angst!! fluff, maybe some bad words, blood, unedited) MASTER LISTS

TAGLIST

I need you tonight. Want to go?

You sighed at the message that Carmy sent you. “Want to go” was a code for “I want to have sex.” and it’s been working pretty well for these past few months. You both needed some sort of release for the pent-up stress that you both have. Carmy, with the Bear and you, with art. You were a full-time artist; creating art inspired by food using oil paint and other forms of media. You’ve been stressed with your upcoming gallery opening next month. Would they love it? It’s quite hard to meet the expectations after winning the Herb Alpert Award in the Arts last year. It was close to Carmy’s James Beard Foundation award, if not the same. In a way, at the end of the day, you were two people excelling in your jobs except for everything else. You sucked at relationships, friendships, connection…what wasn’t artistic; you sucked at. Carmy was the same. Without thinking, you typed your response, a four letter word. Maybe you’ll see him tonight.

-

Carmy enters your home like he lived in it. He had his own set of keys, it was easier that way. He’s been so stressed with the Bear and the only thing that he needs is to blow off some of that steam before he can be functional again. There was supposed to be a celebrity who was wishing for a whole fucking kitchen tour tomorrow and he had to stay behind to make sure that everything was perfect. 

“Hey,” he greets you when he sees you perched on your couch. He liked your apartment much better; at least you had multiple rooms and your own space. It’s not like his; there was work everywhere while yours felt homey. Except your studio down the hall—damn, how much do artists earn today?

“Hey,” you replied. “Did you have dinner yet? I can heat up some of the Chinese food I ordered earlier.”

“No, no. It’s alright,” he says, removing his shoes in the doorway. You were always so tidy and meticulous. No outside clothes on the bed; he had to learn that the hard way. “Actually, um, can-can I take a shower first? I want to wash the day away and I-I smell like the kitchen.”

“And you took the L,”

“Ubered here, actually.”

“Surge rates?”

“I was in a rush.”

“Oh,” you gulped. “Well, you still have your clothes in my wardrobe and your toiletries in my bathroom.”

“Which one?” he asked. “Which-which bathroom?”

“The one in my bedroom,” you replied. “You know where the fresh towels are. So…”

“Uh, yeah-yeah,” he says. “Thanks.” You only smiled at him. Conversation before your engagements are usually awkward because you both knew what the two of you were there for. It’s more comfortable afterwards; when he talks about the Bear or asks you about your art.

You and Carmy met from a friend of a friend. You were looking for chefs that could serve you inspiration for your paintings when she mentioned Carmen Berzatto. You reached out to him and he replied three months later, telling you that he can show you some of the recipes that he’s been working on. He’s an artist himself—Sistine Chapel art kind of stuff. He explained the components of his dish over dinner in your hotel apartment in New York. You mentioned that you were from Chicago and he mentioned that he’s from Chicago too…you drank too much wine and the rest was history. 

You both stopped communicating when he met Claire but he reached out again, asking if you wanted to meet. He told you all about her and how he fucked up. You drank too much wine again. History has the habit of repeating itself.

You swore to never fall in love with Carmen Berzatto and you didn’t…not until recently. He used to leave immediately once you’re both done. Lately, he’s been staying over. He talks to you about everything. He stays over and wakes you up with coffee and some Michelin Star quality pancakes or French toast. He watches you take your first bite before he takes his, likes to watch your reaction and likes hearing your praise.

You were too lost in your reviere to notice Carmen walking to you, all fresh and clean. He lays a hand on your shoulder and kisses your neck.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, voice deep and sultry. 

“You,” you replied, reaching up to massage his curls. 

“Good,” he says, removing himself from you and sitting on the opposite side of the couch. “Needed you today…but I want to talk first before…before…”

“That’s fine with me,” you replied, inching closer to him. “What’s wrong?” He puts his hand on your knee, squeezing it lightly. Since when was he so comfortable around you?

“I…I just… Mikey,” The name lingers heavy in the air. Anytime Carmen feels the crushing weight of the pressure, he says Mikey. Whenever he feels inadequate, not enough, never enough—he says Mikey.

“He’ll be proud of you, Carm,” you said, smiling at him. “Like everyone else is.”

“I’m sorry for not inviting you to the opening…Claire was-was there and…”

“I understand,” You put your hand over his to reassure him that everything’s okay. “I understand.”

“You wouldn’t have seen me,” he chuckled. “I was locked inside the walk-in the whole time and well, everything was great. What if I’m not needed?”

Is it too late for me to love you? 

“Carm…” you trailed off, trying to find the words. “Of course, you’re needed. The Bear wouldn’t be The Bear without you, you know? Your family must be so proud of you because I know that-that I am. I’m so proud of you and I-I need you so much,” you told him. “I need you, Carmen. More than you could ever know.”

Is it too late for me to love you? 

Maybe it was the words that you said, maybe it was the long forgotten show on the T.V., maybe it was because the T.V. screen illuminated your face in a way that was so, so beautiful. Maybe it was just him.

“Let’s go to bed,” he rasps, taking your hand and dragging you to the bedroom. Once he closes the door behind him, Carmy presses you against it, taking your chin and kissing you. It was slow and needy; this kiss was needy. You trail your hand underneath the white shirt that hugged his figure. You caress his sides up and down; softly; slowly and Carmen releases a whimper into your mouth. I need you. I need you. I need you. 

“Baby,” he whispers, pulling away from you to remove his shirt. “Baby, baby, baby.”

“I need you, Carmen,” you muster the courage to kiss his neck now, sucking and nipping right under his collarbone. He lets you do it, he lets you mark him like you own him. He tugs on the roots of your hair lightly. You lick the purple bruise, nipping it again just so it could last one more week. Carmen was sighing above you, letting you take him like he wanted to be taken. His hands itch, slipping right under the waistband of your panties to cup your heated cunt. “Carmy,”

“I know, baby. Let’s get you to bed, hm?” he asks, pushing you slightly. “Lay down for me. I missed you so much. Let me show you,”

You obey his commands, opening your legs widely like he likes. He crawls until his face is right in front and removes your underwear, tossing it to the side. He’ll take care of that later.

“You’re so wet,” he groans, when he lets his index finger trail along your slit. You buckle in need; silently begging him to do more. “So, fucking wet,” he repeats, parting your folds until he sees your glistening cunt. 

“Carm…” you whine. He spits on your clit and you whimper. 

“Let me taste you, hm?” you heard him say, his wandering fingers rubbing all sorts of shapes on your folds. You could only nod and he takes that, licking a bold stripe. You press your cunt against his tongue and he just takes it. He licks a few more stripes before sucking your clit softly. 

“Carmy,” you moan. Your hands trail down underneath your shirt, thumbs softly flicking your sensitive nipples. Carmy could just come at the sight of you playing with them but he holds back, sucking your clit harsher before plunging his thick middle finger inside you. “Oh, fuck,” 

He pumps the finger slowly…in, out, in, out while he licks your sensitive bud. 

“Fuck, Carmy,” you whimper. “Fuck me,”

“Later,” was his nonchalant reply; enjoying the sweet nectar that dripped from your sloppy pussy. It was better than any dessert he’s ever had before. If it was um to him, he’d have his head buried in between your legs, eating you out forever. You buckle again, pinching your nipples hard and tugging them. 

“Carm…”

“I know, I know,” he says, sucking your clit harshly for one last time before crawling on top of you. “Taste,” he orders. You obliged, opening your mouth and putting on a show with the way you licked your juices off of his finger. “Fuck,” he groans. He palms himself through his boxers while you sucked on his finger. You released it with one last suck before putting your hand on top of Carmy’s to feel his hardening cock underneath. You push his hand away while you squeeze his member lightly. Just enough for him to rut his hips against your hand. Just enough for him to toss his boxers to the side.

You tried to sit up to see him pump a few strokes, moaning your name while he did. He gets off the bed, looking at the way your body moved while you breathed. 

“Beautiful,” he whispers to himself before dragging your body to the end of the bed. He pries your legs open and puts one of them over his shoulder. He liked it like this, it fills you up in ways you cannot describe. “Need you to play with your tits while I fuck you, hm?”

He taps his cock against your pussy.

“Can you hear how wet you are?” he asked, sliding his cock in between your folds. You could feel the protruding vein run along your nub and you moan, massaging your breasts to show him your obedience. “Fuck,”

“Carmy…” you whimpered. “Please.”

He hums, grabbing his member and teasing your wet entrance with his pink tip. “You’re so…”

With no warning, Carmy plunges deep into you and you both groan. You were waiting for this. He’s been wanting this the whole day. He stays there for a few seconds before he thrusts in and out of you slowly. 

“Fuck,” 

The slopping noises inside your room reverberated in your walls and for a few moments, the sounds of your groans and skin slapping against skin heightens your arousal. Carmy thumbs your clit and he feels your walls clench around him.

“Don’t do that, petal,” he rasps, sweat dripping on his forehead. “I’ll cum fast if you do.”

“Sorry,” you choked out. He only grunts as he adjusts his pace. He was faster now and you could hear he ragged breathing. “Carmy, I need you.”

“Y-you need me,” he repeats to himself. “You need me.”

“I do,” you told him, moaning when he plunges his cock deep inside you. “Need you, need you,” 

“Oh, fuck,” he groans. “Tell me that you need me. Tell me,”

“I need you, Carmy,” you whine. “I need you to cum inside me,” 

Carmy’s eyes widened. You’ve never let him do that before. He always had to pull out or use a condom. 

“Want me to fill you up?” he asks, his voice strained. “I’ll fill you —oh, fuck,” 

“Yes, please,” you sobbed, breath hitching at the feeling of his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck, Carmy.”

Sex has never felt this good. 

You could feel the breaking point come nearer and he does too. His movements were sloppier, his breathing even more ragged that it was. Your walls were clenching around him but that seemed to arouse him even more. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he grunted. “I’ll fill you up, hm?” 

“Yes, please, Carmy,” you whine. He could only nod, doing his best to keep his orgasm at bay. He wanted to prolong this feeling; this emotion but he couldn’t. “Fuck, Carmy, I’m cumming, I’m cumming. Carm—oh!”

He follows soon after, moaning your name as he shoots ropes of cum inside your pussy. He could feel your walls clench around him and he thrusts in slowly, to ride both of your orgasms away. 

“You-you liked that?” he asked. He doesn’t pull out. Instead he takes your other leg and hangs in on his shoulder. “We have to make sure that not a drop goes to waste.”

You nodded and felt his hands caress your legs slowly. He slowly lays your legs back down on the bed and crawls on top of you, kissing your torso, neck, and your chest while he did. 

“Stay there,” he ordered and you nodded in assent. You just let him cum inside you. He walks over to the carafe on your bedside, filling the glass with water and then, taking a hand towel from your cabinet. He pours a little bit of the liquid onto the towel. You sit up when he wordlessly gives you the glass of water. He watches you finish it and kisses your head when you gave him the glass back. He sets it on the floor carefully before opening your legs so he could clean you up.

“No,” you shook your head and he stops, alert because you told him no. “I’m…I’m still sensitive,”

“Okay, petal,” he nods, taking the glass and the towel away. He picks up the tossed articles of clothing puts it in the laundry basket. He was quiet when he takes a fresh set of pyjamas and underwear from your wardrobe. “Raise your arms,” he says and you do. He puts a new shirt on you. “Lay down.” You followed him. He puts a new pair of panties on you. “Thank you,”

You were so tired now but you were still so aware of Carmy’s actions. He stands up from the bed to wear new clothes and sits down on the bed. He carefully places your head on his lap and plays with your hair.

“Thank you,” he says, bowing down to kiss your forehead. “Why don’t you sleep for me, hm?”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“Waffles or pancakes?”

“Waffles with whipped cream.”

-

Why won’t you let me love you?

There were times when you’d fight with Carmen. A disagreement over something so, so, so small. This time, it was big. It was the opening of your gallery and he promised to be there. It was a big night—multiple art collectors and mongers from all over America came to see your latest pieces. They were all inspired by the food you grew up eating in Chicago; a collection of how culture, identities, and personalities affect eating. Your paintings were in vibrant colors—cup ramen with cheese, cannoli, food that you grew up eating whenever your mom was away. There were small details on the significance of the new collection to your life and he wasn’t there. You were on the stage, telling everyone how grateful you were to the audience but you were preoccupied, looking for a familiar mop of curls in the crowd. He didn’t come. He didn’t go. 

You smiled at them half-heartedly before leaving the stage, ready to be whisked away by some art dealer. You were whisked away by multiple guests, asking you for more details on the painting. You all told them everything they needed to know, what they should do if they’d like to make a purchase…

It would have been alright if he texted you…but he promised he’d be there. He promised he’d take you home. He promised.

-

Carmy was sitting alone in his apartment. He left The Bear earlier than usual and went straight home. He did it all, shower, put a nice suit, and fix his hair. He did it all, he even ran to the nearest florist to buy you flowers but he didn’t go. 

Isn’t this what lovers do? 

He wasn’t your lover. He couldn’t let himself be distracted again. He had to focus; he couldn’t fail the people that relied on him. He looked at the bag of groceries he got from the store; he was supposed to cook you something special tonight. Have you eaten yet? Fuck the suit that he paid for dry cleaning; fuck the flowers; fuck him. It must have hurt you—he knows that. Tonight was a big night and you were so excited to show him a painting that you’ve been working on. 

“I won’t sell it,” you told him. “I’ll have it shipped to you first thing in the morning.”

Would you still send it to him?

-

By the end of the night, you were exhausted. Happy, but exhausted. It was normal; talking to everyone and being scintillating the whole night was work but it was worth it. Your paintings all had their new owners, except for the painting that you promised to Carmy. Would he still want it? You were alone in the studio, wrapping the 4 by 3 foot canvas with the best quality glassine. You were giving this to him tomorrow. If he doesn't want to have it, you’ll probably just donate it somewhere else. 

You laid awake in your bed all night long, waiting for his text. It was funny, just last week he was begging you to tell him that you needed him but when you needed him most, he wasn’t there. 

You arrive at The Bear just before it opens, the big canvas tucked under your arm. He was sure to be there and had always told you to use the back door if you weren’t dining. You always obliged, of course, opening the backdoor to reveal everyone. You’ve met Sydney and Richie before but you haven’t met the others yet. You were an alien in an unknown world; Carmy’s employees looking at you, as if wondering who this girl was. 

“Hey,” Sydney greeted, looking at the glassine covered thing that you were carrying. “Didn’t know you were coming in today. Congratulations on your exhbit,”

“Yeah, Congrats. What’s that, sweetheart?” Richie asked. 

“Oh,” you just nodded. Carmy couldn’t even look at you. “I just came here to give this to…uh, Carmy,” you cleared your throat. “Carm…?”

“Uh, yeah-yeah,” he stuttered. “Can we go to the office?” 

“Sure.”

You followed him into the office while Richie tells everyone to go back to what they were doing. Your heart was hammering inside your chest, afraid that this was going to be another one of those petty fights that you’ve had with him. 

You were wrong. So, so wrong. 

“You didn’t come last night,” you told him, shielding yourself from him with the painting. “I…I waited.”

“Sorry,” was his laconic reply. You nodded, chuckling. 

“That’s all?” you asked. “Just…sorry? No explanation, no nothing?” you asked. “I was looking for you the whole night, Carm. You promised you were coming,”

“I don’t know what-what you want me to say,” he says, looking everywhere but at you. “I-I-I’m sorry, okay? I had other plans.”

“You promised months ago that you were coming,” you repeated. “I called Sydney last night because you weren’t answering and she told me that you left early.”

“You’re spying on me now?” he asks, suddenly defensive. “I had things to do that night. I can’t-can’t just put everything on hold for-for you.” He spits his words like venom, voice getting louder with every word.

You frowned, not recognizing who the boy was in front of you. It’s not like you asked him to put his life on hold. Your heart was beating so fast in anger, ears ringing. 

“I see. So you just need me around and you-you just I don’t know, call me because you need to get your dick wet?” you asked, matching his volume. “You just need me around when no one else is there to fuck you? Is that it?” you asked. “What the fuck?” 

Carmy blinks, tries to think of the words he’s about to say but he couldn’t stop himself. He could never seem to stop himself. 

“You’re the only one desperate enough to do so,” he shrugs. It breaks your heart in pieces, really. The nights Carmen spent nuzzling his head in your shoulder before you slept probably meant nothing to him. Your face falls, contorting in hurt at what he just said. Fuck Carmen Berzatto. Fuck him. “I’m not your fucking boyfriend. I don’t know why you expect me to just-just-just do something!”

“Maybe I wanted you there as my friend!” you shouted over. Your voices could be heard from outside but everyone else pretended like they weren’t listening to anything that you both were saying. You were shouting over each other now, the fuse just breaks. “If you didn’t have any fucking plans to actually go, then don’t give me your good for nothing fucking promises!”

“I don’t need a girl leeching on me when I’m opening a fucking restaurant. Do you want me to put everything on you just because you asked me to? I’m not your fucking boyfriend. You know that right? And maybe-maybe I don’t want to be your fucking friend either!”

“Why would I want you to be my boyfriend, Carmy? You’re-you’re fucking unreliable! You have issues that need fixing. You think Claire could fix that? You think I could fix that? You think the girls you get wrapped around your fucking finger can fix your fucked up fucking head? Huh? Is that what you think? You’re so fucking miserable you make everyone around you miserable! Grow up!” He’s hurt. That’s what you thought of him? That he was miserable? Did he make you miserable?

“I don’t need to go to your fucking art exhibition when they’re all fucking shit.”

You closed your mouth before you could protest. The pain of his words felt like a slap on the face. If he regretted it, he didn’t show it. You turned away, nodding. 

“Fuck you, Carmen. Don’t fucking call me. Don’t fucking knock on my door. Don’t…don’t fucking think of me. I’m fucking done with you,”

“Yeah? You’re done with me, huh? Fuck you,” he spits back. He heard the waver in your voice; heard how you tried to steady everything. He wanted to say sorry but you were already leaving. Richie and Sydney couldn’t even ask you what happened because you were rushing out, throwing the painting you worked hard on for days at the back. Fuck Carmen Berzatto. Fuck him. 

-

“Fuck!” his chefs could hear from outside the office. Everyone heard the vile things you both screamed at each other; everyone heard why you were so angry. Everyone fucking heard. Nobody dared to move, they didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Carmy’s anger; not when The Bear was about to open. Continuous loud bangs and sounds of some object being thrown were heard too. Sugar sighed. 

“Carm?” she called from the door. “It’s almost opening,”

“I-I-I know, Sug.” he replied, blinking. “Uh, can-can you guys go ahead? I’ll be there, I just-just need to you know, calm down?”

“Okay, Bear,” she smiles, tapping the door frame before leaving Carmen in his own thoughts. He gets out of the restaurant through the back door, about to light a cigarette, when he sees the canvas wrapped with glassine. 

“Fuck,” was the only thing he could mutter before taking it and sitting where the staff usually stayed at when they wanted a break. He lights up a stick and lets it hang loose on his lips while he opens your gift with shaky hands. He was so immersed in the experience, gently removing the tape and making sure that nothing was ruined that he didn’t notice Sydney. 

The glassine reveals a painting of a plate of cannolis. He remembered that he told you the story about cannolis during Christmas and how he wanted to recreate that—take it for himself. He traces over the precise brushstrokes shakily. 

“That’s a good painting,” Sydney spoke, her hands behind her back. “Would be a waste to just throw it out.”

“I know,” Carmy nods. “I’m sorry you had to uh, hear all of that.”

“It’s…something,” Sydney replied, making Carmy chuckle. 

“I always…always seem to uh, fuck up everything,” he muttered. “I was on the way there, you know? Last night?”

“Yeah. You were so excited,”

“I was,” he coughed. “But I didn’t go because…” Words died down in his mouth. Why didn’t he go? “I’ve said some things and she-she doesn’t want me to call her anymore and I-I understand but like, I don’t know, Syd.”

Don’t know why I could never seem to just let myself enjoy things. I don’t belong anywhere else but in the fucking kitchen. It’s the only thing I was good at.

“I didn’t really want to to, uh, fuck this up.”

-

I want to talk to you.

Come to my apartment after your shift. Or whenever.

Carmen feels his palms sweat when he reads  texts you sent him days ago. He decided to go today, finally—he was never good at confronting things; always so explosive, so defensive. He didn’t know what he’d feel like today. He knocks on your door and hears the shuffling from the other side. He just got out of The Bear; he was tired but he forced himself to go. He had to go. 

“Hey,” you smiled tightly when you opened the door. “Come in.”

He nods, wordlessly entering your apartment like how henused to. Bag and shoes on the side. Somehow, this made him more nervous than usual. This was a prelude to something else entirely; he believed that.

“How are you? he asked, voice small and looking down. 

“I’m…good,” you replied, looking away. “You?”

“Busy,” he replied. The air felt heavy and his palms were sweating. “I’m…I’m sorry for not being there when I promised you that I would,”

“Why weren’t you there, Carm?” you asked and he could hear the sadness in your voice. He knew that your exhibit meant a lot to you. “You…you told me you will and well, you were…the-the person I want to be there the most.”

“I didn’t know that. I’m- I’m sorry,” he shrugged. “But why? I mean, I-I don’t know art. I like my shit but I-I’m not cool or understand—“

“Because I like you, Carmy.” you told him, looking at him now and trying to go nearer. He stepped back and you stopped your tracks.

“You—what?” he asked, shaking his head furiously; like your confession offended him. “You…like me.”

“I do,” you nodded. “But…it doesn’t matter.”

“Fuck. How many times do we have to go back to this very same place for you to understand?” he asked, running a hand through his hair. He told you before that he didn’t want to date. You told him you understood. You told him he was being egotistic when he told you not to get attached. He wanted to leave. He didn’t expect this to happen—he didn’t want this to happen. “I don’t—I don’t—“

“Carmy,” you cautioned him, trying to ease your beating heart. “Can you listen to me? I-I-I like you, okay and I’ve been thinking about it too. I’m—you’re always staying behind after sex and well, I just maybe thought that you liked me too.” You replied, swallowing his rejection for now.

“I don’t,” he snaps, tone sharp. “We’ll both be miserable in a relationship. I’ll never make-make you happy. You’re right, you know? I’m unreliable and-and-and issues that I need to fix…and I’m not the one you’re looking for,”

“I’m sorry for saying that. It wasn’t my place to do so,” was your meek reply. How does he feel so far away when he feels so, so, so close?

“No, uh,” Carmen blinks, shaking his head. “It’s fine. I-I-I needed to hear those things, you know? I’m sorry too…for everything.”

“Thank you.”

“That’s it then?” he asked. He was distressed. How could he fuck this up after telling Sydney that he didn’t want to fuck things up with you? “I…I had fun,” You were the only one who kept me afloat when everything else turned to shit. I missed you when we stopped talking. I should have fought harder. What else could I have done?

“Fun,” you chuckled bitterly. “Fun…that’s the only thing you’re going to say to me?”

Carmy frowned. 

“What else did you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, Carmy!” you exclaimed, pacing back and forth but never towards him. “God! Tell me that I’m important to you. Tell me that I’ll still be your friend…tell me that you—that you—that I mean more than a fuck!”

Silence. Carmy couldn’t find the words to tell you what you truly meant to him…that he wanted what you wanted too but he was too scared to fuck it all up again like he did with Claire.

You nodded, looking away. You breathed in deeply, as if trying to relieve yourself of the hurt. That’s all you’ve ever meant to him. 

“You lead me along and it’s fine. I know that it’s my fault for wanting other things but at least…at least tell me that I’ll still be your friend; that I still matter to you even if I dug myself a hole by feeling things. Tell me that you still need me to put everything on hold for you because I’ve been waiting you to call me all day…”

“I don’t want you to do that. I don’t want you putting your life on hold for me,” he rasps. “I don’t…”

“But what if I wanted to?” you asked, face slightly contorted because you didn’t want to be so vulnerable in front of him. Not when he hasn’t told you what you wanted yet. Carmy was just looking at you, tapping his foot on the floor. It was a nervous habit that he developed. Fuck, he needed a cigarette.

“Can you, uh, leave?” you asked, voice low. “I…” 

“No, no, no,” he begs, rushing towards you. He grabs a hold of your elbows to remind you that he was there. Would it mean anything? Would his touch convey all of the words he wanted to say? 

“Carm…” your voice breaks. “Carm…”

“No, no. You’re not just that to me,” he reassures “But you have to understand that-that I can’t love you like that.”

“Carmen, please…” you beg, tears brimming in your eyes. “Please…just, just leave,”

You’ve never asked him to leave before but it seemed like it was what you really wanted—like it was what you really needed. He nods, kissing your head softly before detaching himself from you. 

“I’m sorry,” Carmy said. “For-for not saying the right, uh, things.”

“Yeah,” you nod, hiding yourself from him. He hated that you had to do that when you’ve cried on his shoulders multiple times. He never liked seeing you cry; he just didn’t know that one day, he’ll be on the receiving end of your sadness. He watches you rub your forehead, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying. If you started crying, would he stay?

-

It’s been months since Carmy left. He’s been in his best form in the kitchen. He was making things easier for his staff; he was working twenty four hours a day. Going to The Bear early to help with prep; staying late to help them clean after a long shift of cooking and cooking and kitchen tours. He’s been getting acclaim—more acclaim, really. There was a waiting list on his restaurant and positive reviews from left and right flooded in. The Bear was dubbed as “The Restaurant of the Year” in Chicago despite being less than a year old. 

He’s been doing good—perfect. 

It was like he was a hamster in a fucking wheel with no other way to escape. He likes putting himself in gear, like driving fast because it makes him believe that nothing really hurts him. He didn’t like being at home; it reminded him too much of you. It reminded him of when you’d lean on the kitchen counter, a small smile on your lips while you watched him cook you something. He didn’t like sitting on the couch because it reminded him of when he slept with his head on your lap. He didn’t like it in his bedroom because he’s reminded of that night when you pulled him closer in your sleep. He didn’t like The Bear because the painting that you gave him hung so proudly by the dining area. It was marvellous—they said. How was he able to get a painting that you did when your art was so valuable and in demand? 

He was moving so fast so you wouldn’t cross his mind but it seemed like no matter what he did, he'd end up thinking about you anyway. 

It didn’t matter, how come a fall like that made him feel like flying? Maybe he’s waiting for it to hit him but he was feeling alright. 

He was alright. 

“Chef!” Sydney called, looking at Carmen who was chopping the vegetables like a madman. “Carmen!”

“Fuck, what, Sydney?!” he asked, slamming his knife on the counter. 

“You’re bleeding,” Marcus told him and Carmen looked down, blood was all over the chopping board. “You’ve been bleeding for a few seconds now…we’ve all been calling your name, Chef.” 

“Fuck, I-I-I’m…” Carmen was a blubbering mess, just watching his hand bleed like it didn’t matter. “I’m-I’m,”

“Take a break, Carm,” Sydney says but her partner just shakes his head. “Carm—“

“Sydney, don’t—don’t make me take a fucking break, please.”

“You’ll need to clean up and make sure there’s no more blood,” Sydney told him. “I’m not fucking around,”

“Yeah,” he nods, putting his fist over his heart and drawing circles. Sydney nods and Carmy fixes his station. 

He couldn’t stop shaking, though. Even Tina saw how his hand trembled. What the fuck?

“Carmen,” 

“Yeah…just…just give me a second, please.” he nods, picking his knife again and doing everything perfectly. Like clockwork. He’s back. He’s back. He’s fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m alright. 

PART 2

AN: Thank you for the love! This is going to be a two-part fic because I love how everything is right now… Don’t forget to comment / reblog if you like it! I read every single little thing you guys type…even the hashtags.

TAGLIST: @kpopgirlbtssvt @morgthemagpie @hal3ynicol3 @1800-queen-trash

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto #angst #smut #fluff #the bear #the bear fx #carmy berzatto smut

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU

part 1

“Are you lost?” Munson frowns, propping his shoulder against the door frame and crossing his arms over his chest. His rings glint against his jacket sleeve; he’s got new tattoos on his fingers.

Steve’s head fills with static fuzz for a second, and he stares like a mouth-breathing idiot before helpfully answering: “Um.”

“…Right. Well, this has been weird as shit, man, but, uh— pharmacy’s closed until my uncle leaves at sundown, so…” He lifts his hand to make a shooing motion, then pauses, assessing Steve with narrowed eyes. “What are you all dressed up like a good little school boy for, anyway? Didn’t you graduate last year?”

Oh, okay. Wow. (Like, yeah, he does kinda look like some goody two-shoes freshman with Robin’s forgotten backpack hiked up way too high under his armpits, but also fuck you, dude.) Steve squares his shoulders, plasters a falsely polite smile on his face and cocks his head to the side, all innocent, like he doesn’t know, like he’s just asking, man. “Sure did. Weren’t you supposed to do that, too?”

Munson glares at him like he’s imagining doing to him what Misty did to the rat. “I really don’t want to fight this early in the morning, man.”

“I’d love to see you try,” Steve snorts. “What, Munson? You gonna beat my ass? Think you can take me? Go ahead.”

He doesn’t know why he’s egging on a fight, but he’s suddenly itching for one. Feels the urge bubbling up beneath the surface. Hot under the collar. Probably this is the part where Tommy would hold him back and tell him it isn’t worth it, man, come on, but Tommy’s not around anymore.

A lot of people aren’t around anymore.

Nobody fights for fallen kings.

So Steve bows up with a sneer and a huff, and Munson does the same, and that’s… concerning. It gets a hell of a lot more concerning when he flashes a menacing grin and claps a hand to Steve’s shoulder; gets right up in his face, nose to nose, breath sharp with spearmint to cover the scent of weed.

From Wayne’s point of view they might almost look like friends.

Steve barely hears the thwck slice past his bad ear before he feels the cold press of a blade against his throat. Pocket knife, unpocketed. Munson’s smile widens, and Steve swallows hard, feels his pulse jump against the blade, the blood rushing to his cheeks. It shouldn’t be hot. (And it isn’t, because it shouldn’t be.)

“You want to try that again?”

Munson’s voice is deadly soft, a raspy whisper that makes Steve’s hair stand on end. His eyes are huge and dark. Intense. Kind of endless.

Kind of like Nancy’s when she’s staring down a loaded gun.

Steve blinks and licks the sweat off his upper lip, fingers trembling against frayed denim where he’s got his hands raised in surrender. “We’re c-cool, man. We’re cool. My mistake.”

Munson backs off with a pleased look on his face, snaps the knife shut and tucks it back into his pocket. Soft squeak of worn leather; casual shrug. “Cool. Glad we understand each other.”

Then he scruffs Steve under the chin — patronizing and quick, this humiliating little bullshit maneuver like ‘chin up, Steve-o’ before he hops down the steps and swings himself up into his van. The tires screech in the loose gravel, and Steve just stands there and stares. Gobsmacked. Pissed off.

A little stiff in his jeans.

When he looks down there’s a black cat brushing itself against his sneakers. “Misty?” he asks.

“M’row,” says the cat.

There’s a dead bird at her feet.

—

part 3

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #my writing #my fic #trailer park steve au

[kyuuppi]

Genshin men Instagram HCs

Ft. Xiao; Scaramouche; Zhongli; Childe; Alhaitham; Kaveh; Tighnari

(gender neutral reader but wears a dress in Scara & Zhongli's parts)

Xiao // @ a1atus

★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★

Very rarely posts

Never pictures of himself, you’ll only see his face in tagged photos

If he does post, it’s probably a new album cover of a band he likes, a particularly good plate of almond tofu from his favorite café, or—if he’s in a particularly good mood—a cute stray cat that befriended him on the street

Never edits anything but still takes pretty decent photos because he understands basic composition rules

Never tags anything but will sometimes write simple captions like “new guitar”

His pfp has not changed since he made his account and its literally just the blandest selfie you’ve ever seen—but he’s effortlessly photogenic so even when he’s just staring at the camera with a blank expression he looks hot

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

Xiao will unintentionally do his loyal boyfriend duties and like all of your posts but he never actually leaves a comment unless you specifically ask him to but you have to tell him what to say or else you’ll just get something like “your hair is nice” LOL

Maybe makes one post related to you but it doesn’t have your face—just picture of your hands holding each other or a photo he secretly took of you from behind as you admire some paintings from when he took you on an art gallery date

Still doesn’t write much in captions but if the post includes you, he always adds a little black heart emoji 🖤

Scaramouche // @ balladeer

★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★

Vehemently claims he’s not chronically online but he definitely is

Def has a dark / emo aesthetic profile and puts more effort into it than he’d ever admit

Uses stories pretty frequently

Usually to show off his game stats and victories or to vent about some annoying inconvenience that's just happened to him 

balladeer Jfc the train is late again I may as well just walk home everyday ffs

All his late night gaming photos are so highly saturated in his pitch black bedroom, the only source of light being his screen on max brightness and his violet RGB keyboard. If you raise the screen brightness on your phone you might be able to make out some empty Monster cans and ramen cups on his desk—he absolutely gives Discord / Reddit mod vibes 🤢

Definitely has a story archive just for Valorant 🤮

I wanna fuck him so bad it makes me look stupid—

Posts a few selfies to show a new piercing or the very rare occasion where he’s feeling really confident in his looks

unintentionally thirst traps the emo boy lovers; yes, I am talking about you and I—

Lightly edits photos or uses filters to make them look good but nothing extreme or super aesthetic, mostly just for decent contrast

Usually the first one to see any of his friends posts but never ‘likes’ them

Will leave snarky or sarcastic comments when the mood strikes tho

His pfp is a candid picture someone else took that he thinks he looks decent in—sticking his tongue out and giving double middle fingers to the camera

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

Makes a post or story for every date you guys have, even if it’s just a vague picture of your shoes together

He likes to show off that he has such an attractive s/o but also lowkey just wants to have a memory to look back on for the nights he feels lonely

Doesn’t post just you though, he’s always in frame holding you or touching you in some way—he feels the need to put some sort of claim cause he thinks people are gonna shoot their shot with you—he’s kinda paranoid and insecure, pls have patience w him

Likes and comments on all of your posts. Sometimes it's a snarky quip like if you post about you and your friends doing something funny he might comment “lmao ur so dumb” but if its a selfie or something you’re proud of, he leaves a little compliment and heart emoji.

YN0103 [bedroom mirror selfie of you shyly posing in a dress]

YN0103  Bought a new dress today…it’s not my usual style but I rlly like it 🥺

balladeer cute 💜

If anyone ever confronts him in person about his nice comments on your posts tho he’ll get flustered and claim his account was temporarily hacked LOL

His heart def flutters when you post a picture of him on your own account

He kinda can’t believe you’re proud enough of him to publicly post about him

Changes his pfp to the two of you together and, if you zoom in and squint, you can tell he’s kind of smiling <3

Zhongli // @ rex_lapis

★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★

I’m sorry but I have to do it…

He has Facebook grandpa vibes

Like he has no idea how to use half of the features; stories are an absolute mystery to him. What is a reel?

But he tries to be supportive of his friends and will leave way-too eloquent comments with a Wikipedia levels of supplemental information

a1atus [ photo of a shiny Fender acoustic guitar laying on what seems to be a bed]

a1atus new guitar

rex_lapis Lovely new instrument, Xiao. You seem to have quite good tastes – that particular model is popular among many professional musicians. It is well renowned for its clear sound and beautiful mahogany exterior. If you wouldn’t mind, I would love to hear you play it someday over tea.

a1atus @ rex_lapis thanks

the way I cackled writing that exchange ygweyufgwyu Xiaos just like ‘thanks for commenting dad’

His pfp is not him—it’s probably a famous painting he likes or a beautiful white flower from a garden he visited

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

If you want him to improve his Insta game, you’re going to have to teach him, I’m sorry

On the up side, Zhongli is a great student and is eager to learn anything you teach him

Will try to post pretty regularly; usually somewhat mediocre photos of beautiful scenery like sunsets and flowers

Like Scaramouche, he enjoys the idea of documentary your time together so he posts something at the end of each of your dates

Your heart lowkey melts when Zhongli, very earnestly, asks after dinner if you’ll allow him to take a selfie with you to post on his Instagram

Regularly asks for feedback on his posts to ensure he’s properly taking your advice and improving :,)

He even starts organizing and naming story archives on his profile—simple titles like “tea,” “nature,” “friends,” and “my dearest”

Likes and comments on every single one of your posts and replies to all of your stories, even if he was there with you

Usually just lathers you in compliments on your beauty or tastes but they’re so thoughtfully written that it’s obvious he’s not “just saying it” and genuinely believes all the kind things about you he writes

YN1231 [photo of you twirling in a summer dress amidst a colorful of bed of flowers in a botanical garden, take by your friend]

YN1231 It’s finally starting to feel like spring! 🌸🌼🌺

rex_lapis While the camelias are lovely, they pale in comparison to your radiance. Your yellow sundress is also quite lovely and compliments your complexion in the morning sunlight. Truly a divine sight. 

balladeer @ YN1231 @ rex_lapis ugh can you guys keep it in the DMs

- Changes his pfp to a selfie of himself smiling after you told him he should. The angle is a little odd but he’s so naturally attractive that he still manages to look good. 

Ajax // @ tartaglia_on_top 

★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★

Doesn’t post too often but when he does, it kinda gives stereotypical frat boy

Like, lots of parties and shirtless beach photos with his friends

The surprise is the occasional posts of his little siblings and kids he volunteers with in between

He sometimes posts championship and practice photos from his martial arts competitions with captions thanking his team and mentors

Is pretty popular—has a few thousand followers, many are people he met just once or twice at parties or genuine friends and classmates, but the vast majority are online fans who just follow cause he’s hot LOL

Is the type of person you followed once after meeting a long time ago and never talk to again but you can’t bring yourself to unfollow cause he’s nice and his updates are kinda interesting and he’s hot

Isn’t online that much so he doesn’t like/comment on his friends’ every post but usually tries to leave congratulatory messages when someone accomplishes something or graduates

His pfp is a closeup of himself with a boyish grin he cropped from a group photo

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

It is super obvious when you guys start dating cause almost every post from that point is about you in some way LOL

tartaglia_on_top [photo of Ajax, sweaty and exhausted but clearly excited as he holds a trophy in one hand with the other wrapped around your waist while he presses a kiss to your cheek]

tartaglia_on_top Officially a 3 year championship winner! Thanks to my biggest supporter @ YN0720 😘

He’s not even consciously trying to post you all the time, it just happens because you are either always together or any memorable moment he thinks are worth an Insta post involve you in some way

You’re the only person, aside from his family - that he actually likes/comments on all posts for

Is the type of boyfriend to leave those super dramatic, embarrassing comments on your selfies like “DAAAMN BABE 🥵 finna make me act UP” and, in one particularly shameless case, “god youre so hot pls step on me queen 😍” 

Please block him

He shamelessly liked all your past posts from before you too met as well—you were kinda mortified to wake up one morning to a notification that just said “what a lil cutie ❤️” on a post of yourself from seventh grade. 

Changes his pfp to a couple selfie he took of the two of you kissing on a winter vacation in the mountains

Kaveh // @ kaveh.designs

★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★

Obsessed with having an aesthetic profile

Like, the color palette of the background and clothing in his pfp selfie are carefully matched with the cover of each of his story archives, down to the hex code

He carefully edits every post and uses filters to make them all fit with his theme no matter how inaccurate to real life they may become

“Huh…I thought your bedroom wall was a bit more orange than this…” 

“Oh, that’s cause I use 30% Juno in all my bedroom photos for a warmer finish.”

“???”

Despite his aesthetic profile, he doesn’t come off as particularly vain or narcissistic—only posts selfies when he’s has a particularly good hair day or changed his accessories

Most of his posts are of places he travels to (museums and big cities with interesting architecture) or his own sketches and rendered design projects

Online pretty frequently, always checks insta when he wakes up, before bed, and during lunch breaks

His stories are often project updates, interesting things he encounters throughout the day, or food photos

Only likes posts he actually likes and sometimes comments with photography critiques

tighnar1 [photo of a cluster of three bright blue mushrooms clustered against vibrant green grass and patches of dark, wet soil]

tighnar1 Proof the forest is an amazing place: found this beautiful little cluster of juvenile Rakkhashava mushrooms on my hike today. Great spotting by @ colleeei. Check my story for some cool mushroom facts. 🍄

kaveh.designs great photo composition, Tigh, perfect golden ratio on the caps.

tighnar1 @ kaveh.designs Thanks I guess…

Has a decent number of followers, many of whom are also artists familiar with Kaveh’s reputation from the Kshahrewar. Others just like his OOTD stories and charming smile

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

Kaveh revamps his entire profile once you two become official

His pfp becomes a candid taken by a stranger of the two of you together at an aquarium, holding hands as you point something out to him through the glass

It was taken by a photographer working at the aquarium as part of a promotion—the photographer showed you two the photo and asked for permission to post it on their official website and Kaveh was absolutely obsessed with the photo—it’s still one of his favorite and it doesn’t even show your faces

He still matches his archived story covers to his new pfp but his actual feed had become a lot more relaxed and natural now

He still slightly edits photos so they look as good as possible, but he doesn’t like using filters on photos of you or the two of you together because he thinks it would be a disservice to your natural beauty

Like Ajax, his posts and stories naturally become mostly about you whether scenes from your dates—candid photos he takes of you where he insists you look like art even though you’re just in pajamas with an unmade face—or even photos of things he sees throughout the day that remind him of you

Sometimes he posts stories of funny reels or art pieces he knows you’d like and tags you in them with messages like “@YN0709 omg remember when we were talking abt this?” and “me & @ YN0709💕”

Similar to Childe, leaves the most downbad, dramatic comments on your posts

YN0709 [swimsuit selfie]

YN0709 happy summer! ☀️🌊

kaveh.designs Oh my god my heart– 💘 I cannot believe I get to come home to this every night 👅💦

YN0709 @ kaveh.designs omg kaveh pls 💀

al_haitham @ kaveh.designs Every time I see one of your comments I regret ever learning how to read.

Alhaitham // @ al_haitham  

★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★

Only made an account so his friends would stop bothering him about not keeping up with things tbh

Checks his feed a few times a day but skips through stories if they’re too long/too many

Absolutely hates concert stories the most cause they’d loud, long, and filled with off-key drunken singing

Never likes or comments on anything unless it’s really interesting to him

Occasionally shares reels in his story that are like interesting history facts or official Akademiya announcements

Has a few posts (and only cause Kaveh would not shut up about it) but they’re mostly just pictures of book covers he’d just finished reading with a detailed review or literary analysis as the caption—but he’s mindful of avoiding spoilers for those who haven’t read it

However, he does have one post that stands out quite a bit

He posted an unintentional gym third trap because he just happened to be working out, as is routine, and thought it might be nice to share some tips on proper rope pushdown form 

If you’re not a gym babe and don’t know what this is, I beg of you, please look up a gif or video and imagine Alhaitham doing this, shirtless. You’re welcome.

It has become his most popular post by far

His pfp is probably taken straight from his faculty ID card: plain background, bright lighting, neutral facial expression

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

After you two have become official and are pretty comfortably established in your relationship, he’ll post a photo of the two of you—probably one you took - with a simple caption like “Late night at Puspa Café with my favorite person 💚”

Everyone who knows him freaks out in the comments with variations of “omg hathie got an s/o???” and “wow he finally posted a normal pic of himself, y/n is a good influence” but he doesn’t reply to any of them lmao

If you use Instagram a lot, he’ll naturally become more active too because he enjoys learning more about what you like through your posts and stories

He likes all of your posts but never comments—if one of your posts interests him, he’d prefer to wait until he sees you later to ask you about it in person 

He just wants an excuse to talk to you more

As he becomes more active, little bits and pieces of your relationship naturally infiltrate his feed

His latest book review post has your favorite mug in the background because the two of you had breakfast together

His informational story post of an antique Sumerian emerald he found at a street vendor is being modeled by your pretty hands because you were with him when he saw it and later given to you after the vendor insisted on Alhaitham gifting it to his “beautiful spouse”

He changes his profile picture to the two of you from one of your many reading dates, comfortably lounging on a loveseat in a quiet corner of the library—and this time, he’s softly smiling

Tighnari // @ t1ghnar1

Surprisingly active on social media

He thinks social media is a great way to share information about the importance of forest conservation and get people to appreciate the beauty of Avidya forest

Makes one post almost every day and multiple stories

Needless to say, 90% of his posts are of plants or small animals he finds on his hikes or while working

His most popular posts are those of cute squirrels and birds that are being nursed back to health after being found wounded—animals just seem to naturally love him so the pictures are usually taken by his coworkers because his arms are full with cuddly animals that refuse to move

The other 10% of his posts are from the occasional hang outs with friends or coworkers after work—snaps of iced fruit teas from Puspa café or colorful clay plates overflowing with Collei’s homemade pita pockets. 

He makes sure to reply to or at least like every comment, particularly those from people asking questions about the plants he posts or how to become a forest ranger. Even simple “wow that's so cool” comments often get at least a “thanks, glad you liked it” from Tighnari

He tends to use some cute forest or food emoji when they fit with his posts. For example, 🍄,🥙,🦊,🐦, etc.

Also tends to use “:)” when replying to his followers because he knows it can be difficult to read tone in text-based communications

Tigh is basically a social media manager at this point oops

Because he is online so much, he naturally keeps up with almost everything his friends post and will like or comment on things he finds interesting

His pfp is a selfie of himself with a small yellow bird perched on his shoulder from one of his patrols

★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★

All Tighnaris written by me WILL follow the “fennec foxes mate for life” trope regardless of AU, it is an indisputable law of the universe

If you’re in a relationship with Tighnari, you should be prepared for stability and commitment in general

While he doesn’t go out of his way to make an official announcement post or anything like that, you become a regular feature on his page

Will tag you in anything you’re related to, unless you specifically ask him not to

t1ghnar1 [photo of a small, cream-colored fox brushing itself against Tighnari’s leg and looking up at the camera with large eyes]

t1ghnar1 On a walk with @ YN1229 this morning we spotted this cute little kit without her mom. 🦊 While adorable, foxes - even kits - are wild animals and should never be approached unless by professionals. We have informed the local animal control where she will be taken care of until we can locate her family. Photo by @ YN1229

He never outright announces you as his lover but he seems to spend so much time with you and refer to you so casually that his followers who don’t know him just assume you’re his spouse LOL

He doesn’t bother to correct them either :,)

bennie_boy Wow, that mountain is so high up - wasn’t ur spouse scared to go up there?

t1ghnar1 @ bennie_boy Y/n has been on so many trips like this with me that they’re pretty used to it. :)

Likes your posts as he see them on his feed and occasionally leaves a short comment like, “beautiful <3”

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagine #genshin scenario #genshin hcs #tighnari x reader #scaramouch x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #xiao x reader #childe x reader #ajax x reader #tartaglia x reader #kaveh x reader #alhaitham x reader #zhongli x reader #sm au #genshin sm au

[sexlapis]

Ho! I loooooooveeee your actor toji fics! Is it possible to get added to the taglist? Thank you ~

Also an idea: a bts scene of reader getting sick on set(perhaps even collapsing) due to fatigue and toji taking care of them- I feel like that'd be such a hit ship moment irl :D

thank you for liking my fics <3 you can be added to the tag list 🩵.

and omg yeah i love that idea of reader overworking themselves and toji looking after them :’). and yeah i didn’t make it a behind the scenes clip i made a short fic abt it bc i do not know when to stop.. like give me an idea and i will fly away w it like a bird liek..i don’t even think this is what you asked for srsly…i hope you don’t mind (but i’ll add it to my tojiyn headcanons hehe)

cw: actor toji x actress reader, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, swearing, petnames (‘kid’, ik people don’t like this one but i think it’s so sweet & so toji :)), collapsing, mentions of skipping meals/not eating, poor sleeping habits, feelings of loneliness & inadequacy, crying, toji taking care of reader, i made this way more angsty than you asked sorry :(

wc: 2k+

you dragged yourself through the doors of the studio, immediately bombarded by directors, stylists, scrip writers and other cast members on your way to the dressing room, only fuelling your fatigue and stress.

sleep was a foreign concept at this point. five hours at most. so were healthy, filling meals - the last time you ate was yesterday at noon, and for breakfast today all you had was a cup of coffee, not helping your nervous, exhausted state.

admittedly, you were not doing very well. you felt that your acting was subpar and you felt lonely and isolated on set. while everyone went with their friends for a break or lunch, you sat by yourself in your dressing room, your only company being the silence.

sure, toji was also on set too, but he played a very minor role, so he wasn’t always there. and even when he was sometimes, he would hang out with the other crew members, which wasn’t a problem of course, but it did sting a little when he chose them over you.

you just felt so lonely, anxious and quite frankly upset at yourself and the circumstances you find yourself in.

there are a few knocks at your dressing room door and you weakly tell them to come in.

toji peeks is head in. “hey, kid. we start in five..” he takes a look at your weary face, dark eye bags prominent even through the makeup the stylists caked on and the frown on your lips and just knows something is wrong.

“are you ‘right?” he asks quietly, like you’re a deer who’s about to run away at the slightest of sounds.

“yes, i’m fine.” you lie, a voice in the back of your mind wishing he’d just ignore you like everyone else on this damn set does.

“‘you sure? ‘cause you don’t look-”

“i said im fine! just get out.” you snap, heart beating and breathing heavily at your own outburst.

fuck. you didn’t mean to say that.

but toji doesn’t look offended. he just nods and walks away footsteps fading as you put your head in your hands and sob.

so there you are, acting in front of the camera with your colleague in a scene where toji appears in too and you just seem off. everyone assumes it’s just not your day today and they’re not exactly wrong. you lines were slightly forced, tired and you were jittery and clearly apprehensive, like you didn’t even want to be here.

“cut!” the director calls out, more than annoyed with your behaviour. it was the sixth take and you’re really trying to make it believable, but it’s futile.

“this is the sixth take _____. this is ridiculous. get your act together. let’s take five.”

you look down at your shoes, face hot and chest thudding with embarrassment due to the director calling you out in front of everybody. tears well up in your eyes and you sigh, blinking them away as everyone starts talking again, walking away leaving you standing there like an idiot.

it all becomes too much for you. your empty stomach, oncoming headache, exhausted body, dry mouth, furrowed eyebrows, sweaty palms-

you let your script fall out of your hand as you stumble off the green screen, trying to get to your room before a hand is grabbing your arm. you turn around and it’s toji again.

“hey..” he leans down slightly to your height, scanning you over once. “you don’t look so good, _____-”

you shrug him off, vision becoming blurred with black static and limbs heavy and shaky. “i-i jus’ need to go. to my..uhm-” you stop, rubbing a hand down your face harshly. “i just-”

and then there is black.

౨ৎ

you come to and realise that you are laying on your dressing room couch, staring up at the ceiling. reaching up, you feel a wet, cool cloth on your head. you take it off. still fuzzy and body essentially lethargic, you try to sit up.

“hey, hey, hey.” toji whispers.

oh, toji’s here.

“take it easy.” he helps you sit up on the arm of the couch. he hands you a bottle of water and you drink it like a god.

“wait, what happened?” you ask, still confused and disoriented.

“you fuckin’ fainted that’s what,” he states bluntly. “scared the fuckin’ dogshit outta me.”

“oh.”

toji sits beside you on a chair, looking at you closely. you look down.

“the med team checked you out.” he tells you. “said you fainted, collapsed-whatever the fuck. ‘cos of stress and exhaustion. they even checked your blood sugar and said it was low as fuck.” he pauses. “not dangerously low,” he adds at the sight of your worried expression, “but.. low enough.”

you sigh, falling back on the couch. you think back to how the director shouted at you, how annoyed he was, and how humiliated you felt. tears start to form again and you cover your face with your hands, not wanting to cry in front of toji. you felt like you’ve had enough embarrassment for today.

toji leans forward. “what’s happening with you?”

the way he said it, so soft and concerned, makes the tears fall down and cause sobs to escape your mouth, hiccuped breaths falling from your mouth.

“hey, hey, hey..” toji coos. he reaches to you and makes you sit up again so he can take you into his arms. you let him, sobbing into his shoulder and sucking up all the comfort he gives you. toji’s big hand strokes your hair and the other caresses your back softly.

“shh, sh, sh…” he calms you down a little, you sobs turning into sniffles. he leans back and gives you space but his hands stay planted on your back. “tell toji what’s wrong.”

you hum sadly, looking down and gulping. “i’m..i’m tired. i wanna sleep..”

toji waits for you to continue. he can see you want to say more so he doesn’t hurry you along, he just rubs your back and nods to let you know you’re listening.

“i..” you take a breath, “i dunno what to do..i can’t do this fucking role.. i’m fucking tired half the fucking day and my so called colleagues don’t even like me!” you try to calm yourself down, taking another shaky breath. “and i just feel..lonely all the time..” you cry out the last few words, feeling another sob session coming up and toji pulls you close, letting you ruin his shirt with your tears as he rocks you back and forth in his arms.

“it’s okay, it’s okay..” he coos, resting his face in your hair.

you both stay like that for a few moments, you weeps dying down before toji talks.

“you can play this part, _____. ‘you have any idea how good your are, huh? you can act circles around half ‘these guys.”

you scoff, pulling your lips together. “i dunno about that..”

“‘m serious. _____, you can act, okay? ‘wouldn’t have made it this far if you couldn’t.”

“yeah but..this one’s hard..” you sigh, voice cracking but toji doesn’t let you start again.

“yeah, acting’s hard. but i can help you,” toji cups your wet face with his hands, wiping the tear streaks that paint you face, “we can all help you. the crew, your friends, that bitchass director. i’ll put a gun to everyone’s head to make them fuckin’ help you with this.”

you giggle at his seriousness and he huffs, relieved that you’re relaxing a little.

“they don’t hate you, y’know. everybody on set. the cast. they just think you’re a little shy and quiet. they don’t hate you, okay?” toji reassures you. you nod absentmindedly and he shakes your head from side to side to make you pay attention, making you smile, eyes crinkling even though they’re still tear stricken. “there she is..who the fuck could hate you, huh?”

“ugh, toji.” you roll your eyes, sniffling and rubbing your face. you pull away from him. “ugh..i just want my bed right now.”

“yeah..i know it ain’t my place but told the director that you’re taking a few days off. you need a break, kid.”

you didn’t even argue with him. you couldn’t.

“yeah, i do.” you agree.

suddenly, a loud rumble from your stomach erupts, it was like an earthquake.

toji laughs. “someone’s hungry.”

you groan. “‘m starving. haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“we’re getting you something to eat.” he states, leaving no room for objections.

toji stands, holding his hand out for you to take. you do, his large, calloused hand dwarfing yours as he helps you stand up. “can you walk?”

“i will if there’s food involved.”

“that’s good.” toji chuckles, “how’s takeout sound?”

a/n: had to write a whole fic abt this i apologise 🥸 will add the tag list later i just keep forgetting the users </3

#📫.toji #📫.answered #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro x self insert #toji fushiguro fluff #toji fushiguro fanfic #actor!toji #actress!reader #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x you

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Finale — Azriel x Reader

Summary: The grand Illyrian ball is here. Reader is more than ready to return to Windhaven and Azriel, but daddy Fin throws a huge spanner in the works. Life as they know it is about to change.

Note — I’ve tried to tag everyone who’s asked but there are some people that it simply won’t let me tag 🥲

Word Count: 10.6k (oop, sorry 😅)

Warnings: There’s a looot to unpack here. Depictions of violence and gore. Some light smut. 18+!

This place is cold and unforgiving.

The air in your lungs is constricted before you’ve even stepped through the giant gates. They call it the Hewn City due to its entirety being hewn from cold, hard rock.

But you get the feeling these walls are more than that. You can feel the horror in the cracks, the loneliness that screams behind its surface.

You don’t know how Mor has survived so long here. You’re already itching to get out.

A warm hand splays across your back, and you turn to face Fin. It’s not the first time he drinks you in so hungrily, but you could be forgiven for thinking so, by the way his eyes heat all over again. He glances quickly at your lips, and in this empty meeting room that he’s stolen you away to, you’re not at all sure that he isn’t bold enough to act on that hunger.

“Focus, High Lord.” You murmur, brushing the lapel of his tailored jacket. “You’ve an audience waiting for you.”

Somewhat of an infantile groan leaves him — one you’re not sure he’d share with many others. He dips down and allows his forehead to drop against your shoulder, slowly breathing in your scent.

“And if I said fuck the audience,” he murmurs, “and decided to stay here to dip under this gown and ravish you? What then?”

“Then I wager your subjects would be mighty displeased that you brought them here for nothing.”

“I could make you moan,” his nose nudges your neck, “loud enough to give them a show.”

“Later.” You promise falsely, and the lie is sour on your tongue. You step back and straighten yourself out. “You have a duty to attend to.”

The way his eyes sweep you tells you that you are the only duty he wishes to attend to. But he relents with a sigh and inclines his head.

“I do.” He admits. “And I will have to play my role out there. I’ll be mostly unavailable for the duration of this ball, so…I want you to go and have fun. Just don’t stray too far. I’ve organised the evening’s entertainment with you in mind, and I want you by my side when you see it.”

For a beat, you can only blink at him. You’re…touched, that he would do that for you. And your mind immediately starts swirling with possibilities of what that entertainment might be. Perhaps a show of professional dancers or a theatrical performance.

You study him, attempting to glean information merely from the expression on that granite-hewn face. “It’s Starfall.” You remind him. “Is that not the evening’s entertainment?”

He merely smiles. “I’ll send for you when it’s time.” He leans down, coasting his lips over one cheek and then the other. “Enjoy yourself.”

Without another word, he turns. Rolls his shoulders and slips into his High Lord roll. But before he can take a step towards the door, you're grabbing his hand.

“Fin—” You blurt, and he stops. You swallow as you stare up at him. “Just…please don’t let Tathaln Baralas ruin the camps.”

His gaze searches your face. You can’t get a read on his expression.

But then the corners of his lips curve up, and he’s squeezing your hand.

“I won’t let Tathaln become a problem.” He says, and then repeats, “enjoy yourself.”

The way he prises his hand from yours has an air of finality that stops you from pushing any further. You want to ask — beg, if you have to — for his reassurance. But he strides to the door, sleek black shoes clipping against the marble floor.

And left alone, you think you may have done all you possibly can do. That the rest is out of your hands.

So you attempt to shake off your relentless anxiety, and you go to find your friends.

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Weaving through the mammoth structure and the sea of Illyrians that fill it, you’ve already witnessed three fights and two couples damn near fucking in nothing more hidden than the alcoves carved into the walls. Pretty tame for your people, but alas, the night is young.

There are so many pairs of wings. There is such a thick air of arrogance and ego and brutishness. You’re not quite sure where you fit in here, but before you can find a refreshment that will dull that feeling, strong arms are wrapping around your waist and yanking you backwards.

You scream, and no one around you bats an eyelash. You thrash and buck, but the attempt is met with—

Deep, smooth laughter that you know so, so well.

You relax in the offender’s hold immediately, and their arms loosen enough for you to twist in them.

You glare up at Cassian and send a punch to his bicep. “Asshole.”

“Ow!” He chokes on another laugh, and then he’s grinning brilliantly, white teeth gleaming in the fae light. “Hello, Sweetpea. I’ve missed you.”

Fuck, you’ve missed him too. And that’s all it takes for you to throw your arms around him and squeeze.

He smells like Cass. That rugged scent of his that is such a comfort. And the way he hugs you back, firm yet gentle, warm and loving and present, tells you that any previous anger he had towards you is a thing of the past.

“Windhaven is fucking boring without you.” He pulls back, holding you at arms length — and blinks. “Holy gods, look at you.”

“Look at you.” Your eyes rove over him, from his tailored, maroon-coloured suit to his brushed, slicked-back hair. His wings are squeaky clean and flared proudly. He’s stunning. Breathtaking.

He cracks another Cassian grin. “Who knew we could brush up so well, hey, Sweetpea? You’re absolutely gorgeous. I’ll be the envy of all these Illyrian males, knowing I fucked you—”

“Cassian.” You land another hit to his bicep. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’ve actually been sent to collect you. A certain someone is waiting for you on a patio. I’ll give you a clue — he, too, has fucked you—”

With a roll of your eyes, albeit a fond one, you’re breezing past him with a feeling of…need. To see Azriel. To have him ground you in a place and circumstance of such unfamiliarity. You need that comfort.

Cass follows promptly, slinging an arm around your shoulder — not just because he’s missed you, but because the leering eyes of hundreds of Illyrian males follow your every step. Those gazes seem to drink in your dress bead by little bead. They’re hungry for sex and for violence.

“Out here.” Your friend steers you down a hallway, untouched by not only guests, but also the horrific brilliance of the rest of this place. This is an area that most aren’t supposed to see, with chipped concrete floors and peeling walls. It’s so cold, so ugly and uninviting, that you can’t imagine why Azriel would summon you here, of all places.

But then a door appears at the end of the winding hall, open just enough for a sliver of moonlight to touch the threshold. The fresh air has goosebumps spreading over your skin.

“He wanted some private time with you. Rhys and I said we’d keep watch.” Cass studies you and huffs a deep, dramatic sigh. “I’m trying really hard not to feel left out right now.”

“I’m sure you don’t really want to be the third wheel—”

“Sure I do. I’ve told Az that he wouldn’t even know I’m there, but no, he wants you all to himself. Selfish bastard.” He reaches out, pulling the door open wider for you. And then he calls, “I hope you heard that, fucker!”

Strong footsteps emerge from argent moonlight, and Azriel’s voice is a lilting shiver across your skin. “You know I heard it, you idiot.” He says. “You…”

His words trail off as he takes you in, and suddenly you don’t know what to do with your hands, your face, with any part of you.

His stare holds the weight of a very ancient love, so much older than the both of you. It somehow translates that you had his heart in a previous life, when you were different people entirely, and you’ll still have it in the next, when your souls begin anew.

He swallows, loud enough that you all hear it. And his voice is husky as he says, “There are no words worthy of you.”

And you’re hit with a strange urge to cry. Mostly because you feel exactly the same way about him.

He is…exquisite. He’s slicked his hair back, and that alone is a huge thing for him — to openly show each and every curve and line of his face, with no strands to hide behind. The curtain of his thick, dark lashes only accentuates the honey of his eyes and the gold of his skin.

And the suit he’s donned for the evening — that same maroon colour that Cass is wearing. You wonder if Rhys, wherever he is, is wearing the same. Whether the trio look as breathtaking together as you expect them to.

“No words.” Az repeats, shaking his head. “The Mother herself must have sent you to me.”

Cassian smirks and rests an elbow atop of your head, regardless of your perfected hair. “I said the same.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “No, you didn’t.”

“Well, I said something similar.”

“It wasn’t even close to that.”

“Be grateful of my winning charm—”

“Cassian.” Az cuts him off. “Why don’t you go and find Rhys?”

Cass lets out an infantile whine. “But he’s having private time with Zakai.”

“And I’d like to have some private time with Y/N, so. Run along.”

Your friend offers a great, dramatic huff that makes you grin, but he removes his arm from your head and turns.

“This whole coupling up thing is boring!” He calls, retreating down the hall.

And then it’s just you and Azriel.

Your love. Your heart.

You turn back to him with a coy smile, reaching up to fix your hair.

“Let me.” Az murmurs, and he steps closer, his fingers sinking into the strands of your hair. Up close, you drink him down even more, greedy and insatiable. You want to know every expression, every thought.

“There are no words worthy of you, either.” You whisper, and his eyes drop down from your hair to meet yours. “You’re a vision, Az.”

He studies you for a moment. And though his hands leave the strands, they lower only to cup your face. His thumb strokes your cheek.

“What I am,” he murmurs, “is yours.”

Your eyes shutter, and you drop your forehead against his. Every last bit of trouble and turmoil you’ve experienced has been worth it to hear those words. You want them to mark your skin.

You push up onto the tips of your toes, slanting your mouth over Azriel’s. He wastes no time in sliding his hands to your waist and hauling you close to him.

You kiss him like doing so here isn’t risky. Like you have the freedom to kiss him whenever and however you both want, and there are no outer forces getting in the way. You long for the day when that will be the case. When you can love, and love proudly.

Perhaps that luxury isn’t too far out of reach.

Az seems to think so, too, as he pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours once more, and he says, breathlessly, “Things are going to change — after tonight. I can feel it.”

You study him, searching for deeper meaning. And as though they can sense your anxiety, his shadows snake around your ankles in a soothing caress. “A good change, I hope.”

“Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. Me and you. I’m yours.”

You peck him once, twice. “And I am yours.”

Those words alone are enough to make heat blaze in his eyes. With adoration making way for passion, lust, he allows his gaze to rake over you, and he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip.

“So fucking gorgeous.” His voice is guttural. “If we didn’t have to attend this ball right now, I would—”

The door flies open behind you, and Az looks more than ready to throttle Cassian as he prances back into sight and announces, “Found Rhys!”

“And we brought booze.” Rhys swiftly follows with a smirk. “Raided personally, by me, from my asshole father’s stash.”

Sure enough, his suit matches the other two. And seeing the three of them together like that, looking so beautiful, so proper, so…matured—

A lump forms in your throat that you force down. You furiously blink away the tears that sting your eyes.

Because it hits you, just then, how much you’ve missed this — the four of you, just being together, like old times. You were always such a strong unit, always driven by your love for one another, and the dysfunctional, unconventional, beautiful family you became. It’s been a long while since you looked upon these three males without burdening thoughts always remaining a step away. You miss the ease. You miss the love.

But here it is, right in front of you, just like it always will be. And in that moment, nothing else matters but your little unit. Just you, Azriel, Cassian and Rhysand.

As you shake out of your thoughts, you realise Rhys is staring at you just as intensely. Strong emotion swims in his eyes.

“…What?” You ask, smoothing your hands over your dress.

“You just…look incredible.” He smiles softly. “Every single star that soars above our heads tonight will have nothing on you.”

Just as you think you’re about to get choked up all over again, Cassian smirks and declares, “I said the same.”

You scowl, reaching out to swat him. “No, you did not. Just accept you’re bad at compliments and move on.”

“I’m a master at compliments, thank you very much.”

Az slides an arm around your waist and quirks an eyebrow. “You took Sacha for a drink and complimented her by saying you look like you bathed. You’re hardly a poet, Cass.”

It’s Cassian’s turn to scowl then. “Well, what I may lack in poetry, I make up for in the bedroom. As Y/N clearly knows.”

A snarl rips from Azriel’s throat. “Watch yourself.”

Rhys rolls his eyes and smacks Cassian upside the head. “Don’t wind him up, dickhead.”

“Who are you calling dickhead?”

“I’m calling you dickhead, dickhead.”

The bickering becomes background noise as you prise the bottle from Rhys’s hand and take a generous swig — none of which he even notices, as he and Cass continue taking swipes at each other.

And as the liquid burns your throat, you meet Azriel’s gaze. Both of you grin. He takes the bottle from you.

In that moment, all you feel is happiness. Beautiful familiarity. Rhys and Cassian tearing chunks out of each other while you and Azriel watch and laugh from the sidelines. It makes your heart feel heavy with such warmth that it may just burst.

You do not need lavishness or luxury. Your life is nothing special, but you do not want for anything.

Just this. Only this.

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“Who knew so many Illyrians could dance?”

Rhysand’s steps are swift and flawless. It’s situations like these — ones of strict propriety and, dare you say, class — that you’re reminded he’s only half-Illyrian. The other males around you may be trying their hand at dancing, but Rhys flows through each number with barely a thought.

You smile up at him, secure in his hold. A dance floor full of Illyrians is a temperamental and, quite frankly, stupid idea. Anyone who gets too close to another’s wings is asking for a punch. Or five.

But so far, it’s been surprisingly uneventful. And you might even begin to relax and enjoy yourself — if not for the images you keep glimpsing in your periphery.

Every now and then, a flash of bright red will pass you by as Kaeda is spun from one set of burly arms to another. Her dress is the same shade as her hair. It’s alarming. Makes you think of blood.

And even more alarming, perhaps, is the pair of eyes that follow you from the dais. Fin spares only cursory glances to the rest of his guests, from where he sits on his throne in pensive silence, but his eyes linger heavily on you. Hungry, flaming eyes that follow your every move. And standing at his side — Tathaln Baralas.

The Lord of Fenlaros is even bigger than you remember. In a tailored suit, he looks…all wrong. That kind of finery will never work with him. He’s rugged, and cold, and something tells you that while Fenlaros is considerably more civilised than the majority of Illyrian camps, Tathaln Baralas feels most at home with the bare necessities. Luxury is nothing but a fly buzzing in his ear.

But he will tolerate that fly, you know — can tell, precisely from the way his dark, frightening eyes watch the room with more intensity than any single person should harbour. And that intensity is directed solely at one person. Azriel.

Tathaln watches the shadowsinger as though he’s weighing up whether he can kidnap him from this event and force him to Fenlaros. It makes your stomach turn.

“You seem on edge tonight.” Rhys’s deep gaze studies you. His hand presses firmer against the small of your back. “I won’t let anything happen to you, don’t worry.”

You’re not sure if he’s referring to his father, or to Kaeda, or to her father. Or even just to the evening in general. But you squeeze his hand, all the same.

“You’re the best.” You tell him. “And you should be dancing with Zakai.”

His eyes glimmer with his signature charm. “Oh, I will. But I always intended to save the first dance for my best girl.”

The sentiment is so…Rhysand, so comforting, that you almost — almost — start to think that everything will be alright.

But he spins you under his arm, and it’s like being spun straight back into reality. Because as you turn, that gaze from up on the dais meets yours again.

And this time, it’s not just hungry — but possessive.

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You dance and dance until your feet feel like they might fall off. Although, you’re not sure how much of that can be attributed to Cassian stepping on them throughout his uncoordinated prancing.

But the more the night wears on, the more your stomach churns with deep, unrelenting anxiety. You feel sick. Like a shadow of doom is looming over your shoulder and waiting to pull you into its thrall. By the time Cassian hands you over to Azriel, you’re not entirely sure that you won’t be sick.

Az studies your face with clear concern on his own — concern that doesn’t make his steps falter. He’s a natural dancer, taught and honed by Roza. Almost as good as Rhys. He moves as swift as flying, but his expression doesn’t hold the same ease.

“What is it?” He asks, and his thumb sweeps a stroke over your hip. “You don’t look well.”

So badly, you want to lean into his touch. But…not now — not with Fin watching. You dare a quick glance at the dais, and sure enough, his eyes stalk you. They follow everywhere Azriel touches your body. Strangely, the hunger in them intensifies. The hickory shade of them has darkened until it’s almost a stark black. He licks his lips and watches Azriel’s fingers caress you through your dress.

“I’m just…ready for this night to be over. You know all this luxury isn’t my thing.”

His hands press firmer against your skin. “I must say, as much as I’m loving this dress, I’m equally excited to rip it off—”

“May I?”

Two seconds. You look away for two seconds, and Fin is suddenly off the dais and behind you. The guests around you all watch with curious eyes.

Azriel pauses, his lingering touch letting you know just how reluctant he is to let you go.

But ultimately, he is wise. And ultimately, he concedes.

“Of course, High Lord.” He inclines his head. “She’s your special guest, after all.”

“Yes.” Fin’s eyes don’t stray from you. “She is.”

You know it’s deliberate — the way he makes sure everyone is watching as he scoops you into his arms with a small lift off the ground. And then he begins dancing, and everyone else resumes.

As you follow his steps, you allow yourself the chance to look at him. Look at him, and wonder if he’ll hate you after all this is over. You…you don’t want him to hate you. That complicates things, but gods above, it’s true.

He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, and you may as well be the only two people in the room as he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear, “When you look at me like that, Y/N, it makes me think I’m not such a bad male as most would think.”

“You’re not.” You respond almost immediately, and you mean it. “I think it’d surprise you to know how highly you’re regarded. Everyone in this room who is looking upon you—”

You yelp as he suddenly dips you, his lips at your ear.

“Everyone in this room,” he says, “is looking at you. And rightfully so. You’re a masterpiece — my masterpiece.”

The compliment — the possessiveness — all seems extreme. But then, you think everything about Fin might be a bit extreme. He doesn’t do anything by halves. The blush that dusts your cheeks seems to please him.

“You like it, don’t you?” His voice is like gravel. “That not a single male in here can take their eyes off you. You are the envy of every female. Stripped of wings, but not of raw, natural beauty.”

He straightens you out before you can reply, and your head spins — with the sudden movement, and with the whiplash of the comment. It both pleases you and reminds you how exposed your back is — the trauma that everyone can see.

“Charming as ever.” You swallow, hope the smile on your face is convincing. “I don’t quite know what to say.”

“Words are not necessary — not tonight.” The song you’re dancing to fades to an end, and he steadies you gently on your feet. His gaze sweeps you again, and he remarks, “The stars will begin their journeys soon.”

In the strange headiness of the evening, you almost forgot that this is, essentially, two events wrapped up in one. Starfall, and Fin’s lavish ball. Perhaps seeing those stars will bring you some semblance of peace — make you feel less lost than you do right now, as they travel somewhere unbeknownst to you, and perhaps unbeknownst to themselves, also.

“Will you be joining us outside to watch them?” You ask.

A strange smile curves his lips. “Indeed I will. It’s a magnificent sight to behold.” He steps back, bowing to press a kiss to the backs of your fingers. And then he straightens up. Retreats.

“However,” he says, “I do believe the entertainment I’ve arranged for you may just outshine those stars this year.”

He saunters away, back to his dais. And as he lowers himself into his throne, he meets your gaze.

That same old thirst in them is unquenchable.

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The males are treating the stardust like it’s the snow that so often coats your respective camps.

The first specks of it showering down on you were surprising, beautiful. But in true Illyrian fashion, what started as a cordial gathering to observe the soaring, luminous beings, has been reduced to little more than a drunken bust up.

You don’t know which camp launched the first clump of glimmering dust at another, but that was all it took for chaos to break out. The fray jostles you away from your friends until you can no longer feel Azriel pressed to your side or hear Cassian’s constant chattering. Try as you might to locate them, it’s impossible to see past giant, burly males with alarming wingspans. It’s a sea of dark hair and tan skin.

You push and push your way through, looking for a small exit through the gathered bodies. Your gown is trampled on, and you’re shoved this way and that, taking a few handfuls of stardust to your face and neck and arms. The feel of it is a cold contrast against your hot skin.

Just as you spot an opening to squeeze through, a male is careening into you and taking you down with him. It stuns you so much that you forget to brace yourself for impact. You’re about to tear your skin open against the sharp ground—

But huge, warm hands from behind catch you beneath your arms and keep you upright. Set you on your feet.

You turn, smacking straight into a broad expanse of chest. And a little higher up — long hair and wicked eyes. A taunting grin. Too-sharp teeth.

Tathaln Baralas seems to command the area around him so much that the fighting moves away from you both. A fact that makes him so incredibly smug.

“You’re welcome.” He sounds as rough and rugged as the mountain rock.

You clear your throat and incline your head in reluctant thanks. You’re not too keen on the idea of lingering for a chat with him.

But before you can so much as turn, his hand is fastening around your wrist. It’s not a tight grip, and yet it’s a warning — that it could become tighter if you tried to move.

“I’d like to go and find my friends—”

“I’ve been wracking my brain trying to work out why the High Lord is so taken by you.” He angles his head, and his eyes travel down, a smirk toying with his lips. “Besides a magnificent pair of tits, of course.”

Gritting your teeth, you attempt to rip your arm away. “You do him a disservice by thinking him so shallow—”

“Does Rhysand know you’re fucking his father?”

“You’re mistaken, my lord, and I’ll thank you to let go of me.”

“My daughter’s warning was clearly of no use. Perhaps I’ll be able to drive the message in harder. Whatever you’re planning—”

“There you are.” Out of seemingly nowhere, Rhysand’s voice saves the day. “I’ve been looking for you.”

The most minuscule, tiny beat passes — but Tathaln Baralas is no damn fool. With such blatant reluctance, he lets go of your wrist and takes a step back.

Rhys presses himself against your side, slinging an arm around your shoulders. He stares at Tathaln as he says, “My father wants everybody rounded up. It’s time for the entertainment he has planned.”

It’s a cloaked order, and you can see how much the Lord of Fenlaros wants to grit his teeth against it. But again — no damn fool.

“I’ll help gather everyone up.” He relents, and then he turns and pushes through fighting males as though they’re not there.

Rhys turns to you, concerned eyes taking you in. “Are you alright?”

“I will be.” You respond vaguely, linking your arm with his. “When this is all over, I will be.”

Little does he know, it’s not only the ball that you’re referring to.

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Like petulant children, the bustling males don’t want to go back under the mountain for the remainder of the ball. They want to stay outside and frolic in the fallen stardust and maybe fight or fuck in it, too.

But somehow, Fin commands their return. And the silence with which they now all stare up at the dais has you wondering if there’s anybody he can’t get to obey him.

Roza, probably. The thought brings a smile to your face.

Gods, you’d love to be with Roza right now, Spending quiet, quality time together. Blocking out the world in its entirety. You’re glad, so heavily pregnant as she is, that she’s not here tonight — but still, you can’t help wishing she was—

A loud clap sounds through the room, jolting you from your thoughts. You force your eyes into focus once more, and though you’re buried a few rows back, Fin finds your gaze immediately. He smiles.

“I wanted to thank each and every one of you for coming here tonight.” He addresses the room. “I understand that Illyrians have a way of life that you like to keep loyal to, and that integrating with other camps is not normally a done thing. I appreciate you keeping your minds open and straying from your traditions to honour this event.”

The crowd stirs and murmurs, and every person packed within it must be wondering why Tathaln Baralas is the only camp lord up on that dais with the High Lord while the others all congregate on the floor, common as muck. They are not privy to the things that you are. You have a horrible feeling that that is all about to change.

“While there have been a few…hiccups, this evening, I have mostly been impressed by how well you were able to interact.” Fin goes on. “That is exactly what this little experiment was intended for. Because that’s what this ball was — an experiment. I address each and every Illyrian when I say this: change is coming.”

No.

Your stomach bottoms out. Hands turn clammy in an instant.

Surely…surely he hasn’t just ignored everything you’ve said. Surely this hasn’t all been for nothing.

“You may recognise the male behind me.” He’s not looking at you now. His eyes skim the room, but they don’t stray in your direction. “Tathaln Baralas — Lord of the Fenlaros camp.”

At that, a small burst of cheers breaks out from one section of the room. Fenlarions, you can only assume. You’re too panicked to care.

Tathaln takes a step forward, not quite in line with Fin, but almost. He seems to be fighting back a smirk. And as you feel another heavy set of eyes on you, you look to your left — to a few steps down, where Kaeda stands. She eyes you with what must be triumph in her eyes, and she doesn’t bother to hide her smirk.

This…this has all gone very, very wrong. You’ve fucked up — failed. Perhaps even doomed the lives of countless people. Fin may have poured sweet sentiments into your ear and boosted your confidence, but you so clearly weren’t enough. Weren’t enough to appeal yourself to him, and weren’t enough to save Illyria as you know it.

You’re not at all certain that you aren’t going to faint. Whatever is about to be said or done, you don’t want to be here for it. You want to gather up Azriel and Cassian and Rhys and get the fuck out of there, far away from this, from him. You look frantically around for them, but you’ve lost them again. Can’t even glimpse the backs of their heads.

“A short while ago, the Lord of Fenlaros came to me with a suggestion. A proposition.” Fin slides his hands into his pockets; a strangely arrogant gesture that tells you just how at ease he is. “But before I tell you all about that, I would like to speak to you about somebody else. Another one of your own who I have recently had the delight of spending my time with. Getting to know.”

It takes a delayed moment for you to realise he’s staring at you once more.

Staring firmly, unflinchingly at you.

He extends a hand in your direction, and everybody — every single fucking person around you — turns to get a look, also.

“Sweet Y/N,” He cocks his head. Smiles. “Would you join me up here, please?”

You falter on the spot, forgetting entirely how to move. Every pair of eyes…the attention…it’s all too much. Everyone is looking at you. Everyone can see you, your scars.

“Y/N.” Fin repeats. “This is for you, after all.”

Someone shoves you in the back, and snickers titter around you, the sounds swimming from one ear to the other. On shaking legs, you slip between bodies. Bodies with faces attached that won’t stop looking at you, staring at you, wondering why you, of all people, have caught the High Lord’s attention. A lowly Illyrian female without any wings.

Numb from head to toe, you climb up onto the dais. Fin takes your trembling hand. Pulls you to his side.

Only then do you find Azriel, Cassian and Rhys in the crowd. All staring up at you with alarmed, horrified expressions. They can sense something very terrible is about to go down, too.

“For all of you who haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her — this is Y/N.” Fin speaks loudly, clearly, his tone clipped. “She hails from the Windhaven camp. She is Illyrian in her own right. She has a brain wise beyond her twenty years, and a heart of solid gold. She cares for Illyrians — for all of you. Cares for your futures.” A very, very potent pause. His expression changes — darkens. He purses his lips. “But you all do not care for her, do you?”

Silence. Nobody knows where this is going. There’s a slight movement in the crowd, and out of the corner of your eye, you see your friends pushing closer to the front.

“You cannot claim to care about her — about your own females — when you are willing to do this.”

So quickly, Fin’s hands are gripping your arms, and he’s wrenching you around on the spot. Forcing your back to them. Forcing them to swallow down the sight of your ruined back.

But your scars poking through the sheer fabric is not enough for him, it would seem. Those hands of his, gentle at times and dangerous at others, skate over your shoulders. Stop at the top of your back, where you hate so profoundly to be touched.

And he rips the fabric open like he’s cleaving air.

The cold air hits your exposed back, and surprised murmurs ripple through the room. Each and every one of them will have seen clipped wings before — but not this. Not the brutal hacking you were subjected to.

On instinct, you’re fighting against Fin, trying to turn, trying to hide. He holds you steady.

“Her own father did this to her.” He announces. “As so many of you intend to do to your own daughters, no doubt. Look at her. Look at how she suffered, and believe me when I say, again, change is coming.”

“Father.” Rhysand’s voice reaches you from behind, severe, outraged. “Stop this.”

It surprises you that Fin immediately turns you back around. But you are under no illusion that he’s listened to his son’s plea. He simply isn’t finished.

There is not one part of you that isn’t shaking. You stare firmly at your feet, refusing to meet any of the gazes pinned on you. Some may be pitying. Most will be delighted.

“I understand that Y/N may not appreciate what I just did. And rightfully so.” With a theatrical wave of his hand, the rip at the back of your dress is mended. But the damage is already done. “She has a right to those feelings. A thing I believe you Illyrian males do not understand. That your females feel. That they can rightfully be hurt, and they can rightfully want to be avenged. Y/N?”

You know he’s addressing you, asking you to look at him. But you can’t move. You can’t…can’t stop shaking. Can’t stop feeling like you want to throw up.

“Y/N.” He repeats, softer this time. “Look at me please.”

You pause.

And then you do.

You turn, and you look at him with an expression that will never promise forgiveness.

To his credit, he studies your face. It’s like he’s searching for an answer as to whether his little stunt was irredeemable. His eyes swallow your expression, and a moment passes between you. One that doesn’t include everybody else in this room.

You imagine you look hateful. You imagine you are sneering, and clenching your jaw, and allowing him to see that you will not stand for such disrespect from anybody, including him.

And he…he looks upon you like he wants the rest of the room to disappear. Like he wants nothing more than to steal you into his arms and spirit you away, far away from this.

You take a small step back.

“I got you a gift.” He says, too quietly. Extends a hand again.

You feel yourself shaking your head. You cannot speak. But this does not deter him. He retracts his hand and murmurs to somebody — somebody you can’t see around the roaring in your head — “The box, please.”

As blurred movement stirs in front of you, you angle yourself towards the crowd — towards your friends. You search their terrified faces without seeing them, and you know that they are just as powerless as you are. Even Rhysand. That throwing themselves in the mix may just make the situation worse.

And you don’t even know what the situation is. All you know is that your heart is thudding and your ears are screaming. All you know is that you feel…betrayed…by Fin making a spectacle of you like this. That your body and mind are having such violent reactions because your vulnerabilities, insecurities, may just be the evening’s entertainment that you’re supposed to somehow enjoy—

“Y/N.”

Your eyes snap back to the High Lord, and a tear escapes the corner of it. You pretend it doesn’t exist, even if Fin’s gaze tracks it and softens.

“For you.” He holds a box out to you.

For a moment, you weigh up the likelihood that you could just dart off the stage and make a run for it. Find somewhere to hide and cry. But as your hands extend outwards without you telling them to, you know it’s no use. You’re seeing this through, however reluctantly.

Your trembles are violent as you take the box into your hands — and almost drop it. It’s heavier than you’re expecting. Fin smiles.

Every single person in that room watches you slide the lid off the box.

Every single person in that room watches you peer inside — and drop it. Stagger back.

“What the fuck is this?” You choke. “What have you done?!”

There are murmurs, people angling to get a look, as Fin casually strolls over to that box. As he reaches in.

As he lifts your father’s severed head by his hair and holds it up like it’s a fucking show and tell. And grins at it.

Steeled Illyrian warriors who have been bred for violence scatter back, curses and noises rolling off their tongues.

“Allow this to be a lesson to each and every one of you.” Fin speaks loudly, entirely unperturbed by the head dangling from his fingertips. “That while your camps are overseen by your camp lords, I am still your High Lord, and I am always watching, and listening, and waiting to act, if necessary. This male wronged somebody I care for. The only fitting punishment was this.”

Without a care, he drops your father’s head back into the box and kicks it away. You stumble back, back, toppling off the dais. Somebody catches you.

“I am your High Lord.” Fin repeats, seemingly unaware of the panic roiling in his audience. “I do not take kindly to being used or manipulated. I do not take kindly to somebody presuming to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do with my court. And Illyria is part of my court — no matter how much you try to distance yourselves. You are under my jurisdiction. What happens to you is my call to make.”

For a split second, you can only hear certain words; used, manipulated, presuming to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do. You think he’s addressing solely you, but he isn’t.

People are moving around you. Arms wrap around you. It takes a moment for you to register that it’s Azriel. That he’s tucking you between himself and Cassian and Rhys. They’re shielding you.

Fin is now pacing the dais, hands behind his back. “The Lord of Fenlaros spent months concocting –and perfecting — a self-serving scheme that he then presented to me, as though he has the authority to do so.” He stops, turning to Tathaln — a very pale Tathaln. “And while I agree there would be some benefits to what you proposed, your methods have pissed me off. And I don’t like being pissed off.”

Tathaln squares his massive shoulders. Steps forward. “I—”

“What gives you the right to delegate your daughter and sons to rival camps to do your bidding, without bringing your case to me first? I should have been your first port of call. I should have decided how this plan of yours should play out. Yet you schemed behind my back and tried to build power and gain favour in case I disagreed to your plan. So you could then build a cause against me.”

“My Lord, I assure you, that is not—”

“Yes — your Lord.” He reiterates.

And then quick as a flash, he’s drawing a sword.

Quick as a flash, it slices through the air and hacks Tathaln Baralas’s head clean off his neck.

It drops to the dais with a wet-sounding thwack. The rest of his body crumples to the floor.

You can’t breathe, or think, or hear. Can only stare at Tathaln’s open, glazed eyes, peering off into nothing. There are gasps and curses and panic. Hands claw at you. You can’t move.

And then a high-pitched, wailing scream rents the air, like nothing else you’ve ever heard. So loud, it snaps you out of your shock.

You turn, despite the hands that hold you firm and still. Through tear-blurred eyes, you glimpse Kaeda on her knees. Her beautiful face is screwed with despair. She stares at her father’s head, and she wails.

“Change is, indeed, upon us.” Fin says calmly, as though a river of blood is not pooling at his feet. “But it will be dealt by my hands, and my hands only.” He sheathes his blade once more. “This ball is over. You can all leave.”

Sliding his hands into his pockets, he strolls off the dais, tracking blood with each step. He disappears through a door without looking back.

And then chaos is erupting. Kaeda is still screaming. People are scrambling to book it out of there. You turn back to Tathaln’s head. Turn to your father’s, still in that box. You think you might be sick—

“Y/N.” Hands grasp your face tightly. Azriel is staring into your eyes, pleading with you to stare back. “We need to get out of here, okay? We’re getting out of here.”

You open your mouth, and a strangled noise escapes you. “I…I can’t…move.”

“You can. You can. Come.” His arms band around you. And though he holds you strong, you can feel that he’s shaken, too. “We’re leaving before the High Lord comes back. I’m getting you out of here. Hold onto me.”

You have no choice other than to comply. But your grip is as weak as you are. You can’t stop yourself fucking shaking.

You don’t hear the words that Azriel speaks to Cassian and Rhys. All you can hear is Kaeda’s screaming. All you can do is stare over Azriel’s shoulder at your father’s lifeless face. That face didn’t once look upon you with love in twenty years. Now, it certainly never will.

You keep on looking until Azriel spirits you both out of there, and the coppery tang of blood follows you all the way back to Windhaven.

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“Please try to drink some of that.”

Azriel perches before you, his eyes fixed upon the steaming cup between your hands. You can’t remember how long ago he handed it to you, or how long ago you made it back to Roza’s cottage, or how long ago you watched Fin cleave Tathaln’s head from his body.

The fire is roaring, and more than one blanket is draped around you, but you can’t get any warmth to seep into your bones. You shiver from head to toe.

“It’ll warm you up.” Az reaches out, pressing a hand to your cheek. “I added a drop of whiskey to take the edge off.”

“I need more than a drop.” Cassian’s voice comes from behind the sofa, where he’s been pacing pretty much since he entered. “What the fuck was that? Your father is insane, Rhys.”

Rhys hasn’t breathed a word — that you’re aware of, anyway. Just sat in the armchair and stared into space. 

But his eyes shutter now, and he murmurs, “I know.”

“Absolutely insane.” Cass repeats. The pacing continues, up and down and up and down. “I didn’t realise you’d gotten so close to him, Y/N.”

As if you need reminding.

Fin had made it clear that in some fucked up way, everything he did tonight was for you. He’d slaughtered two people for you. You’d wanted to stop Tathaln, but not like that…never like that.

A tear rolls down your cheek, and you hear Azriel utter a quiet warning to Cass. Cass stops his pacing.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He says, softer. “I just…didn’t realise there was so much going on while you were in Velaris.”

“I was trying to help.” You whisper. “I didn’t mean for…I didn’t mean—”

“None of what happened tonight was your fault.” Azriel moves to your side. He pulls you close against him, arms soothingly wrapping around you. “Don’t you dare start thinking that. The High Lord does what he wants.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. What if he’s coming for me next? I was scheming, too.”

Az growls quietly. “He can try. He won’t get close.”

“My father doesn’t want you dead.” Rhys rests his head back against the chair. He doesn’t open his eyes, and you’re wondering if he’s replaying the picture of bloodshed as much as you are. “If he did, he would have killed you there and then, alongside Kaeda’s father and…yours.”

Cassian spits on the ground. “And may your father never know a shred of peace.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, allowing yourself to slump fully against Az’s body, be supported by it. You’re not sure you can hold yourself up right now.

And it’s not that you disagree with Cass’s statement…you’re just not sure what to feel right now.

You hated your father. Despised him. But—

But that kill was supposed to be yours.

Fin had taken that from you in some fucked up display of…of affection, you supposed. Maybe even of ownership.

“He may not want me dead,” you whisper, “but I don’t think he’s finished with me. He’s surely not going to let me come back to Windhaven as if nothing happened. And what of Roza and the babe? Are they safe with him?”

Rhys gives a slow, meditative shake of his head. He’s exhausted. You’re all exhausted. The smell of blood clings to you. “I checked in with her. Despite what he did, they’re always safe with him. As for everything else…I don’t know what he intends.”

“Change is coming.” Finally, Cassian sits down. “That’s what he said. Over and over again.”

You don’t want change. Not the kind that Fin is probably thinking. You don’t want extravagance or luxury. You just want…this.

This little cottage. Your friends. Your love. Your simple, quiet life.

It feels like it hangs in the balance more than ever.

Eyes open, you’re staring at everything you may just lose. But the second you squeeze them shut, you see such thick, alarming red. Hear the thwack of Tathaln’s head falling. Hear the carnal scream that rips from Kaeda’s throat.

Your heartbeat picks up, and tears prick in your eyes — but Azriel’s arms tighten around you.

“Easy.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your head. “I’m right here. All three of us are.”

You know he can’t possibly be as calm as he’s making out. But he’s doing it for you — staying strong for you.

“You should try to sleep, my love.” He murmurs into your hair. “We all should.”

You focus on his warmth, his scent, but the tears keep coming. “I’m not sure I can.”

“Try.” He kisses you again. “For me.”

All you can manage is a relenting nod. And that’s all it takes for him to slide down and pull you with him. He holds you so tightly, as though he’s terrified of letting go. He bundles you against him, wraps a blanket around you both. It can’t be comfortable for him, his wings, but he lays there like it is.

A soft snoring from the armchair tells you that Rhys has already succumbed to exhaustion. You bunch your fingers in the front of Az’s shirt and force your eyes to close, even despite the horrors that await you behind them.

But after a while, you’re aware of the sound of Cassian traipsing to the kitchen. Reaching for the bottle of whiskey that sits mostly drained on the side.

And you realise that in Azriel’s arms, you’d started to drift off, too.

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You wake with a gasping start.

It’s pitch black in the room, besides the dying embers of the fire. Their muted orange glow illuminates the space enough for you to glimpse Rhys, still fast asleep in the chair. Cassian is sprawled out and dozing on the floor.

Any one of you could have stowed away upstairs in the privacy of a bedroom, but…you need each other right now. Each other’s comfort.

You don’t know what the time is; the middle of the night, judging by how dark it is. But there’s a lot of noise and foot traffic that’s carried past the house. You assume it must be Illyrians who have attempted to drown the night’s events in alcohol and are now skulking home.

You try to block it all out. Roll over. But as arms tighten around you and pull you flush against a warm body, you glance up to find Azriel awake, already staring at you.

You stare back.

That’s all you do for a while. Just…stare. Drink each other in. He is so beautiful. So brilliant. Your friend, lover and so much more.

“Hi.” He eventually whispers.

You scan his face. Murmur back, “Hi.”

“You should be sleeping.”

“So should you.”

A small shake of his head. Strands of hair fall from where they were earlier slicked back. The grandeur of the ball seems like eons ago, now.

“I can’t.” He says. “I’m worried about you.”

It’s rare…for him to lay vulnerable thoughts and feelings out like that. You study him again. And you want to reassure him, tell him you’re doing okay — but you’re not. Not right now. And don’t you owe him honesty in return?

“I’m scared.” You admit. Keeping your voice hushed doesn’t stop it from cracking.

Azriel leans down, dropping his forehead against yours. His hand rests at the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles.

After a moment, he asks, “What went on in Velaris?”

You don’t know what to say. It was so easy, in the City of Starlight, to pretend to be someone else. Someone that Fin would desire and eventually trust. So easy to follow a plan unflinchingly.

But back in the frozen grips of Windhaven, you do not feel like that person. You do not know her.

“You said you were scheming.” Az presses. “What went on?”

“I told you…I was trying to convince Fin to reject Tathaln’s idea—”

“Convince him how?”

You swallow. Because you hate the truth. Back in the ordinariness of your Illyrian environment, your behaviour seems so, so bad.

“Did he touch you,” Az breathes.

“No.” You immediately shake your head. “I made him want me. I made him want me so badly that he would trust me and listen to me. I never wanted him to kill for me. And I never wanted him. Every single second I spent there, I just wanted to come back to you—”

His lips fold over yours, and he breathes deep and slow. You waste no time in kissing him back. That kiss is truth, and it’s love.

“Only you, Az.” You whisper as you pull away. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

But he’s not done with you. His mouth is on yours again, and he promises into it, “I’ve only ever wanted you, too.”

Not merely wanted, but needed. And you need each other now. It doesn’t matter at all that you’re not alone in the room — that Cass and Rhys are sleeping mere footsteps away.

Your hands are on each other, grasping at each other, and your bodies come together. It’s unhurried and quiet. Azriel’s eyes don’t leave yours once, from the second he slides into you and you both gasp onto each other’s mouths.

Every slow thrust is one of love. Every one of them is a promise.

“Whatever happens,” he pants quietly, pleasure straining his voice, “whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

“Together.” You vow. A tear escapes the corner of your eye, and Azriel leans in to kiss it away.

He holds you as both your climax and his build together. He holds you as you bury into his shoulder to stop you from crying out. He holds you as you clench around his cock and he spills every last drop into you.

And he holds you as you catch your breaths and press your foreheads together, exhaustion beckoning you once more. He’s held you through so much, and he’ll continue to do so to whatever end.

Only when your eyelids are threatening to close does he brush his mouth against yours once more. And he says again, “We’ll face it together.”

There’s a stirring behind you. Cassian rolls over. Croaks out, “Can you quit fucking?”

And then he snores and he’s back to sleep, the fire warming his wings.

You and Az stare at each other and pause. And despite it all — everything that’s happened tonight — you both break into laughter. It vibrates through his chest and into you, the feeling pleasant, reassuring.

He kisses your forehead, a smile still ghosting his lips.

It stays there as he drifts to sleep.

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“What the fuck is that?”

Your groggy eyes wrench open and squint at the weak daylight that filters through the cottage. Both Rhys and Cass have bolted upright. Az, too, is jerked awake.

A thumping lands on the front door, urgent, panicked. Anxiety floods your gut.

“I’m coming, fucking hell.” Rhysand clambers to his feet. He’s dishevelled and uncoordinated as he clambers to the door and rips it open.

“Rhys,” Zakai pants from the other side. “What the fuck is your father playing at?”

“What—”

It’s then that the sound hits you all. The sound of authoritative voices calling out. Of people shouting — arguing — back.

Rhys follows Zakai out of the door. You, Azriel and Cassian share a glance before the three of you are also following.

And what you find outside is…chaos.

The sight of Illyrians fighting is nothing new, but males are being ripped from their houses. Children and wives watch, tears staining their cheeks. Paper and clothes and belongings litter the ground as if they’ve been stolen and discarded. The sky is shadowed by the temporary night of soaring Illyrians

Your wide eyes swivel to a roof a few cottages down — where a male stands upon its tiles, his voice bellowing out. He’s leather-clad and puffed up by his own importance — one of Devlon’s cronies, you think.

He seems unperturbed by the pushback on the ground — the gathering, angered males, as he addresses anyone and everyone around him.

“If I call your name, you’re coming with me! You pack the bare necessities — we leave for Steelshore in thirty minutes!” He announces. “Rahu Sepheron, Venia Char, Falkon Galos, Telarion Krin—”

“He’s lost his damn mind.” Rhys grits his teeth, shaking his head.

“He’s actually doing it.” Ice shoots through your veins, nothing to do with the brisk spring morning. “The High Lord is actually splitting everyone up.”

“Zakai Athalar—”

“Fuck this.” Rhys grabs Zakai’s hand, turning to you, Az, Cassian. “Everyone get back inside. None of us are doing anything or going anywhere until I’ve spoken to my father.”

You don’t hesitate to turn on your feet and pull Azriel with you. You want nothing more than to hole yourself up inside the cottage and pretend that none of this is happening. That anxiety and panic isn’t turning your stomach—

But the second you step foot inside, you’re halting in the doorway so suddenly that Cassian smacks into you from behind.

Fin sits at the table, cleaning his nails with a dagger.

He drinks in the sight of you greedily. Glances down at yours and Azriel’s joined hands. Smiles.

“Do you want to tell me what the fuck you’re playing at?” Rhys pushes past you, storming over. “What the hell is all this?”

“This?” Fin sits back. “This, Rhysand, is the reality of war.”

His son grits his teeth. Clenches his fists. “What.”

“War is upon us. Days, weeks, months away. People will have to fight and people will have to die. It is my duty as High Lord to take necessary action to ensure we come out victorious. If I have to sever some relationships for that outcome, then so be it.”

Cassian barrels forward, nothing but anger given flesh. “And what is this supposed necessary action? Tearing families apart?”

Even he, with his quick temper and loose tongue, would never normally address the High Lord in such a way. But Cassian cares. He’s passionate about what’s right.

And what Fin is doing is not right.

But Fin vaguely smiles and picks an invisible piece of dirt from his jacket. “If need be, Cassian, yes.” He says. “I’m delegating Illyrians where they will serve me best in this war. That includes your cosy little unit here.”

“If we are truly at war,” Azriel says quietly, dangerously, “now is not the time to play games.”

“Who’s playing games, shadowsinger?” Fin shrugs. “Not me.”

You don’t think it’s accidental, the way the High Lord’s eyes slide to you in that moment. You look away, refuse to hold his gaze. You could swear he chuckles quietly as he stands up and tucks his chair in.

“So here’s how it’s going to be.” He rests his forearms atop of the chair. “Rhysand — you will be commanding a legion in Camp Theriel.” He glances — barely — at Zakai. “I do believe your lover has already received a summons to leave for Camp Steelshore, so he should probably run along, lest he gets left behind.”

“Father—”

“Cassian.” He interrupts. “You will remain here, in Windhaven — as a common foot soldier in this war.”

“A foot soldier?” Cass spits. “That’s beneath my rank and you know it. You’re only doing this because you’re threatened by Az, Rhys and I being together. How powerful we are. Everyone knows that.”

Fin simply tsks. “Watch yourself, foot soldier. You don’t want to slip further down the ranks, now, do you—”

“Fin.” Finally, you find your voice. You step forward, despite Azriel trying to yank you back. You stare pleadingly at the High Lord.

He turns to you. His eyes sweep your face. His expression seems to go somewhat…quiet.

You had begun to respect this male in some roundabout way. You don’t think you’d ever have fully trusted him, but…there was an understanding, for a time. An allegiance of sorts.

You’d seen a side to him that so few did. And though it’s nowhere to be seen now…you have to believe that it’s still under there somewhere. You have to.

“Please don’t do this.” You whisper, your eyes filling with tears. “Please. This is our home. Our family.”

At the first sight of a tear rolling down your face, Fin swallows — hard. He clenches his fists at his sides like he’s fighting the urge to reach out and wipe it away.

It seems like so, so long that he stares at you. So long that he seems to be fighting something internally.

So long that a small glimmer of hope ignites in you that perhaps he cares enough to listen.

But then his eyes are shuttering, and he’s looking away. He says, stiffly, “We all have to make sacrifices in war.”

“Fin—”

“Rhysand will go to Camp Theriel. Cassian will stay here.” His eyes open again. He looks from you, to Azriel, back to you. “You and the shadowsinger are coming to Velaris with me.”

“What?!”

“You’d better say your goodbyes.” He squares his shoulders, not looking at you at all, now. “It’ll be a very, very long time before you all see each other again. If you see each other again.”

You open your mouth — to say what, you don’t know.

But Fin disappears before your eyes, leaving you — your family — alone.

What sounds far, far away is Cassian’s outraged ranting. Rhysand cursing his father. Zakai trying to talk to him, calm him down.

You and Azriel are the only two who don’t say a thing. Just stand there in silence.

Because you know you can curse all you like. You can shout and throw things and damn Fin to a miserable existence. It may bring you some temporary reprieve.

But it will not change a thing.

Fin is your High Lord. His mind is made up. This is just the next round in his game.

Your family is being cleaved apart. You stand in that cottage where you all slept in each other’s company — not realising it might be the last time, ever.

Your head roars and your tears keep on coming. But you can do nothing but stare at Azriel. He stares at you, too.

You and the shadowsinger are coming to Velaris with me.

It makes you sick to your stomach. Probably makes Azriel sick to his stomach, also.

But your locked, silent, crestfallen gazes communicate one sacred promise to each other.

Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.

Authors note: Oooooof how are we all feeling? Good? Bad? Sad? Mad? Tempted to commit arson?

I just wanted to say thank you so much for coming on this journey with me. What started out as a fun little smut piece turned into a whole story I didn’t even know I had in me, but I’ve enjoyed every bit of it — especially hearing from all of you. Your likes, reblogs, comments and asks have meant the world to me through this. Thank you so much for the wonderful responses 🫶🏻

For anyone who didn’t see my answer to an ask regarding this last part — I understand it might not be the ending everyone wanted or expected, but I felt there was still so much potential in the story that I wanted to leave it open to — perhaps — write a sequel at some point. I have so many ideas, and I’m totally willing to talk about it and answer any questions about it you have any!

Thank you, again, for all the support, darlings. And I truly hope you enjoyed Practice On Me. 💕

pom tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-a-girlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes @hihelloitsbooktimeppl

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger x reader #shadowsinger x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel fic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar x reader #acotar writing #acotar fanfic #acotar headcanon #acotar smut #acotar series #azriel fanfiction #azriel smut #azriel fanfic #reader insert #illyrians #rhysand #cassian

[running-on-coffee-and-anxiety]

Know what? I'm gonna try throwing my hat into the ring for Danny Phantom.

I accidentally electrocuted myself as a kid and never told anybody- nothing serious, I grabbed the three exposed prongs of a half plugged in laptop charger in the middle of the night and didn't want to get in trouble since nobody else was awake. Even if it isn't fatal, it's terrifying and your vision completely blacks out and your arm tingles for days afterwards, and for the whole day after you got shocked your fingers on the hand that grabbed the prongs will randomly twitch, open or close or jerk to the side. You have no control, it's like when the doctor hits your knee to check your reflexes.

Now, from what I can tell from the scene where Danny went ghost for the first time, he really was electrocuted. From what I can tell, his ghost and human halves seem kinda separate- not completely, but the change is there. Where is this going?

Danny never told anyone about the accident- not anybody that could help him, anyways. I propose that, since he never got medical treatment or physical/occupational therapy after the accident, his motor function deteriorates over time.

More specifically, his small motor function is effected- I will be using personal experience in this section, since my small motor skills were so bad I couldn't use zippers or tie my shoes until I was 12, but I'll try putting things in reverse.

Danny starts fumbling with tying his shoes, laughing it off as being tired. Buttons take a few minuets, and even snap buttons become a bit hard. Odd, mildly confusing, but nothing to be concerned about. Then it progresses. He can't properly use tools anymore, it's like nothing is ever precise enough, everything takes a few tries to get it right. His fingers are fumbling everything, his handwriting turns to chickenscratch that not even he can read at times, he struggles to comb his hair because it's hard to coordinate movements, his back teeth are always textured because he struggles to brush his teeth and he can't really reach the back ones properly anymore.

I don't know if this is connected to small motor or not, but he starts dragging his feet and the toes of his shoes wear out quicker because walking while lifting his feet any higher doesn't feel right. This was something I had fixed during occupational therapy, but I don't know if it was just me or not.

Eventually, it becomes sunlight-on-clean-pact-snow levels of blindingly obvious that something is incredibly wrong. Danny's hair is knotted and half-matted because he is unable to brush it properly, when he smiles there is plaque on some parts of his teeth and not others, he always wears slip-on shoes or his laced shoes are always untied, buttons always seem like they could unslip because they're only half-buttoned, zippers in his jackets getting stuck in shirts and he doesn't bother to fix it, teachers can no longer read his assignments and his friends can't read his notes. Nobody can ignore it, but nobody knows how to help when Danny gets so clearly frustrated when he has to do something with his hands and it just doesn't work. It seems like he suddenly developed a hole in his lip, since he always had to lean far over his bowl or plate to not end up on food with his shirt because his hands can't hold silverware steady.

But Phantom? None of those issues. He became a ghost after being electrocuted, of course. Why would there be damage from the initial creation of this half? It could be why he ends up enjoying fighting the ghosts, his hands actually work with him instead of against him.

Feel free to take this idea and do what you want with it, I really liked writing this!

Also if you use this for a fic, please comment the link if possible, I wanna see all the ways people use this :)

Edit: So I started a mini-series about this. Is it any good? Probably not, but writing makes me happy.

Noticed But Hoping For The Best

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dannyphantom #danny phantom headcanon

[werecreature-addicted]

werewolf jock is making me go crazy but werewolf mean girl is making me go stupid-

perhaps both even- they’re so territorial over their stupid loser

this is an incredible thought. the only issue is a Hot girl being mean is just every lesbian I've ever dated.

Popular mean girls and Popular bully guys tend to be mean in different ways too.

Mean girl werewolf telling you you're sooooo brave for wearing that outfit and laughing with her friends while you walk by then insisting she isn't talking about you while giggling. "no guys they're so shy leave them alone- omg I didn't even know you could talk it's so funny hearing your voice it's like crazy."

But also if a mean girl werewolf wanted to bash my head into a locker and finger me in a bathroom stall while teasing me for being a hopeless loser slut. I'd let her.

She makes you hump her expensive high-heel boot and then lick up your cum off her shoe because, gross she is so not walking around with your spunk on her leg, she may be the wolf here but you're the dog.

I like to imagine she waxes/ shaves her excessive body hair to better fit in with human beauty standards but still has a thick line of hair that starts at her navel and disappears into her pink mini skirt. she doesn't bother trimming down her happy trail and bush unless she's planning on wearing a bikini soon. Go ahead and bury your face in her messy pubes and huff her musk while you eat out her pussy.

She's a pillow princess. She wants to just lay there and let you do all the work. You're lucky you're even seeing her naked, let alone fucking her, you absolutely should have to do some work. The only exception is when she's in heat. no pace you set will be fast and hard enough for her so she has to roll you over and ride your dick/strap until she can make herself cum. Also, she's a total bottom. she can't top for shit. she's mean and bossy with the weakest stroke game in the world.

I see her being slightly more possessive and territorial than her male counterpart. She takes it as a slight if you fuck other people, what is she not good enough for you? if you do find yourself caught between Bully Jock and Mean Girl, she's fucking you to prove something, she wants you to see that she's the one you should be crawling back to every night. Not some smelly jackass.

Although, in this threesome, she ends up on her back, legs spread wide while you sloppily make out with her pussy and get railed from the back by the other werewolf. so much for fucking some sense into you. But hey, everyone got an orgasm out of it so who's she to complain.

#monster imagine #monster fucker #monster #teratophillia #werewolf #werewolf x reader #werewolves #werewolf boyfriend #monster boyfriend #werewolf girlfriend #werewolf girl #werewolf smut #jock bully werewolf

[bradshawsbaby]

Like Peas in a Pod

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: What happens when two wallflowers find each other?

Word Count: 5.7k

Author’s Note: I admit that this story is extremely self-indulgent. But I have a feeling that a lot of people can relate to what our leading lady goes through, and I hope you can find pieces of yourself in her!

Warnings: Mild angst, social awkwardness, feeling overlooked, alcohol consumption, flirting, fluff.

If you’d had it your way, you would be at home right now, curled up on the couch in a pair of cozy pajamas with a good book and a steaming cup of tea in hand. But instead, your friends had outnumbered you 3-1 and you were currently sitting in the middle of a noisy, crowded bar, the patrons loudly competing with the music that was blaring through the speakers.

“Do we have to go out tonight?” you’d groaned over FaceTime a few hours earlier. “It’s been such a long week. Can’t we just do a wine night and put on some movies?”

“We did that last week!” Shawna argued. “C’mon, I just got my nails done. Don’t let it be for nothing,” she teased, wiggling her manicured fingers in front of the camera.

“Besides,” Kelsey chimed in, “like you said, it has been a long week. We deserve a night out to unwind and treat ourselves.”

“Hopefully we’ll find other people to treat us,” Renee added cheekily, tossing her unruly dark curls over her shoulder as she winked.

“Besides, the girls at work told me this is a really fun bar. Apparently it’s where all the hotties from North Island go after work,” Shawna giggled.

Your former college roommate had just started a new nursing job at Naval Medical Center San Diego, so if anyone was going to know where the hot Navy guys spent their off hours, it would be her.

“It’s settled! We’re going to The Hard Deck, ladies,” Renee grinned, blowing you all a kiss. “Meet at my place at 8 and we’ll Uber over.”

As much as you would have preferred to stay at home tonight, you had to admit that Shawna hadn’t been wrong. From the moment you’d stepped foot inside The Hard Deck, you’d been amazed at the sheer number of attractive men crowding the space. You certainly never found men like this when you hit the bars downtown.

Renee, ever the mastermind when it came to scoping out the most advantageous situations, quickly managed to grab your group a table smack in the middle of the room. It had an excellent vantage point that not only made you most visible to the bar’s patrons, but also gave you a perfect view of the pool table, the dart boards, and the bar all at once.

“Cheers, ladies!” Kelsey exclaimed once you were all seated with your first round of drinks. “And a special toast to Shawna for telling us about this place!” she added with a grin, holding up her glass of hard cider.

The rest of you held up your drinks—Renee had opted for a bottle of Coors, Shawna had gone with an IPA, and you had chosen a High Noon—and clinked them together with a celebratory “Cheers!”

“Tonight’s the night that you’re finally going to find yourself a man,” Shawna told you, turning to you and playfully poking you in the side.

“Yes, it is!” Renee nodded in agreement, winking at you from across the table as she took a sip of her beer.

“Take your pick, babe,” Kelsey added, waving her hand to encompass the whole bar. “I’ve literally never seen so many gorgeous guys all in one place. And in uniform, too!”

You felt the back of your neck prickling and your skin growing warm at your friends’ expectant stares, a weak smile gracing your lips as you took a sip of your drink. It always ended up being like this. You loved your friends, and you knew they meant well, but they had no idea what it was like to be in your shoes.

The four of you had been best friends since college, despite the fact that you couldn’t have been more different from one another if you tried. Kelsey always joked that your four personalities combined helped to balance each other out.

Despite their differences in looks, style, and demeanor, Shawna, Renee, and Kelsey did all have one thing in common that you had never seemed to possess—the ability to turn men’s heads no matter where they were.

Shawna had the perfectly sweet girl-next-door vibe going on. With her strawberry blonde locks, big blue eyes, dusting of freckles, and curvy figure, she always attracted guys like bees to a flower.

At any given time, Kelsey looked like she had just walked off the runway. Even in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, she managed to look chic. With her tall, willowy figure, sleek dark brown bob, almond-shaped eyes, and lips that never needed lipstick, she had men drooling all over her.

Arguably the most exuberant member of the group was Renee, who had been a firecracker for as long as you had known her. The only thing bigger than her laugh was her smile, and she had the most gorgeous ebony curls that contrasted perfectly with her cinnamon-colored skin. Paired with her petite figure, she drew men in like moths to a flame.

And then there was you. Quiet, shy, bookish you. Throughout college, people had often commented that you seemed like the most grounded out of all your friends, but you knew what that really meant. You were boring. And you knew what people were really trying to say—how had you become friends with such fun-loving girls?

You loved your friends more than anything, and you were grateful for the ways they’d helped you come out of your shell since college. But you’d be lying if you said going out to bars with them wasn’t challenging at times.

They all knew how to light up a room, how to flirt and talk to random strangers and get phone numbers from the hottest men you’d ever seen. You—didn’t know how to do any of that.

You’d tried over the years, you really had. Mainly at the girls’ insistence. You made an effort to flirt with the guys they introduced you to, or strike up conversations with  random cuties at your favorite coffee shop, but it never seemed to work for you the way that it did for your friends. And guys never approached you the way they did Shawna and Kelsey and Renee.

The most painful experience had been a couple months ago, when a guy had come up to you while you were waiting to order a drink, smiling and chatting in a way that had you thinking he was interested. Your heart had soared inside your chest, only to crash a few moments later when he asked, “So, is your friend single?” while pointing at Kelsey.

You hadn’t told any of your friends about that encounter. You knew they’d just feel bad and you didn’t want them to. They were desperate to find somebody for you, and you didn’t have the heart to tell them that you’d given up hoping for that a long time ago. They just wouldn’t understand. They went on dates all the time. You were just the one guys approached to inquire after their relationship statuses.

“Don’t give us that look,” Renee told you, shaking her head and pointing an accusatory finger at you as you attempted to slink down in your seat. “You look hot tonight, and you need to show it off!”

“You do,” Shawna nodded vehemently, nudging you in the side again until you sat up straight. “I love that top.”

“See? I told you it was a solid purchase,” Kelsey winked, as she had been the one to convince you to buy the top in question when the two of you had gone shopping a couple weeks ago.

Despite your lack of hopefulness, you had put a good deal of effort into your appearance tonight. You couldn’t help it. A bar full of hot guys in sexy uniforms? You’d be crazy not to try. You’d spent over an hour on your hair and make-up, and had decided to finally take the tags off the top Kelsey had convinced you to buy. The neckline flattered your figure and hugged your body in all the right places. You’d coupled it with a pair of high-waisted jeans and strappy sandals to show off your pedicure. Even you had to admit that you looked good, but you still hadn’t seemed to catch the eye of any guy in the bar.

“Let’s just enjoy the night and focus on us,” you said, trying to deflect your friends’ intense attention. “If anybody else happens to come along, then so be it.”

The girls all shot you dissatisfied looks, but didn’t push the point any further. Shawna started regaling you all with stories from her new job, which allowed you to let out a soft sigh of relief.

As the night went on, you tried your best not to grow discouraged, but it was getting harder and harder. Countless guys had passed by your table, stopping to flirt with Renee or Kelsey or Shawna, or even all three, but their eyes skipped over you like you were invisible. Whenever your friends tried to direct their attention your way, they smiled politely before instantly turning back to the actual objects of their attraction. Every time you got up to use the bathroom or order another round at the bar, you attempted to smile and make eye contact and appear open and interested, all the things your friends had been telling you to do for years, but none of it worked.

At that point, all you wanted to do was go home, put on your pajamas, and live vicariously through a good rom com.

You were about to tell your friends that you were going to get going when one of the bartenders—if you’d heard correctly earlier, she might have been the owner—approached your table with a tray full of drinks, a smile gracing her lovely face.

“Ladies, these are for you,” she said, setting down a cider for Kelsey, a Coors for Renee, an IPA for Shawna, and a High Noon for you.

“Oh,” Shawna said, her blue eyes widening in surprise. “I think there might have been a mistake. We didn’t order another round, did we?” she asked, looking at the rest of you.

“Not that we won’t take them,” Renee chimed in with that bright laugh of hers.

The woman smiled at the four of you. “No mistake. These drinks are compliments of the group over there,” she chuckled, pointing at a group of officers clustered around the pool table.

The four of you turned your gazes in the direction she was pointing, your friends letting out various sounds of delighted surprise when they realized the men in question looked as though they had just been featured on the cover of Men’s Health magazine.

“Oh, we’ll definitely take them!” Renee beamed, flipping her dark curls over her shoulder.

“Thank you,” Kelsey grinned up at the older woman gratefully.

“Of course,” she nodded, tucking her empty tray under her arm. She leaned in a little closer with a conspiratorial smile and whispered, “I’ll vouch for the fact that they’re good guys. But if they act like idiots, just come find me. My name is Penny.”

“Thanks, Penny,” Shawna giggled, reaching for her new drink. “We owe you one!”

Penny winked at you before heading back to the bar, which was surrounded by thirsty customers. Business was booming. If Penny was the owner as you suspected, then she must have been doing quite well.

“Should we go thank them for the drinks?” Shawna grinned, chewing on her lower lip as she glanced in the direction of the handsome officers at the pool table.

“Not yet,” Renee decided, smirking mischievously. “We’ll let them sweat it out a little bit first.”

“Renee!” Kelsey laughed, lightly smacking her on the arm.

“What? You know it’ll work. They’ll be eating out of the palms of our hands,” Renee grinned, taking a hearty sip of her Coors.

“They look cute,” you ventured, though your palms were already sweating at the thought of approaching them. You highly doubted any of them would be eating out of your clammy palms.

Clearly you shouldn’t have said anything, because suddenly all three of your friends were pouncing on you like ravenous wolves.

“Which one do you think is the cutest?”

“Do you see one you like?”

“Claim one now before we get over there!”

Their words loudly overlapped one another, to the point that you had to resist the urge to cover your ears with your hands.

“I—I—I don’t know!” you exclaimed, feeling your skin grow warm with embarrassment. You hated being the center of attention. “I just meant—I mean, they look cute for you guys.”

“Um, last I checked, you were just as single as the rest of us. Why wouldn’t they be cute for you, too?” Kelsey demanded, raising one of her perfectly waxed eyebrows.

“Please, you guys, let’s just drop it. I’m probably going to start heading home soon anyway,” you told them, sliding down in your seat and wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

“What? No, you can’t!” Renee and Shawna practically cried in unison.

“C’mon, we’ll go over to them now,” Renee decided, grabbing her drink and her purse. “You can’t leave yet,” she insisted.

Kelsey and Shawna nodded, grabbing their things and following suit, nearly having to drag you out of your seat to get you to come with them.

“Well, well, well, fellas,” smirked a blonde-headed officer as the four of you approached the pool table. “Looks like our little gift didn’t go unnoticed after all.”

Glancing down quickly, you spotted the name printed on his nameplate—Seresin. He was extremely handsome in that clean-cut, All-American way, with his perfectly coiffed blonde hair, sparkling green eyes, and charming smile.

Renee, who always ended up being your group’s fearless leader, smirked in return as she stepped to the head of the pack. “Well, well, well, ladies. Looks like the guys who sent us those drinks aren’t half bad after all,” she said, resting a hand on her hip as she gazed up at the blonde man, challenge twinkling in her dark eyes. “Even if they weren’t brave enough to come bring us the drinks themselves.”

Kelsey and Shawna stood on either side of her, giggling softly, while you hung near the back, staring down at your feet as your cheeks burned hot.

“Most of us aren’t half bad. I can’t speak for Hangman here,” another voice piped up, deep and gravelly. You could sense, rather than see, Kelsey’s ears pricking up at the sound.

Glancing up, you saw another handsome man standing before you, looking every inch Kelsey’s type with his sunkissed brown hair, broad shoulders, tanned skin, and easygoing smile. If you knew Kelsey, you knew she was already imagining what that mustache would feel like against her lips. You clocked his nameplate as well—Bradshaw.

“Hangman?” Renee asked coquettishly, quirking an eyebrow as she glanced between the two men.

“My callsign,” the blonde cut in smoothly, pool cue still in hand. It was clear that while he and Bradshaw might be buddies, there was still a sense of competition between the two.

“Ah, callsigns. You’re fighter pilots,” Shawna commented, grinning knowingly. Thank goodness for her job at NMCSD. She was much more in the know than any of the rest of you.

“Not just any fighter pilots. The best fighter pilots,” came another voice from the other side of the pool table. When Hangman stepped to the side, you saw it belonged to a guy whose jawline looked like it could cut glass and whose smile could melt butter. His nameplate read Machado.

“Oh, yeah?” Kelsey asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “And who determines that?”

“The Navy,” Bradshaw replied smoothly, stepping a little closer to your statuesque friend. “We’re all TOPGUN graduates. The top 1%.”

“Hmm, and humble, too,” Kelsey laughed, delicately resting her hand on his arm as she did so. “So what’s your callsign then?”

“Rooster,” the mustached man told her, chest puffing out with pride. “But I’m being awfully rude. I didn’t catch your name,” he said, holding out his large hand.

“Kelsey,” she replied, her dark eyes twinkling as she slipped her hand into his.

You watched as, almost instantly, your friends partnered off quite naturally with the handsome aviators. Renee and Hangman were already bickering about the best way to sink the 8 ball, Kelsey and Rooster were talking about music near the window, and Shawna was flirting up a storm with Machado, whose callsign turned out to be Coyote.

Your stomach sank as you realized that you were suddenly on your own. As usual. Not that you resented your friends getting to flirt with cute guys. You always cheered them on when they met someone new, and you were always there to celebrate with them. You just wished that, for once, they had a reason to celebrate with you.

Glancing around, you saw that there were several other officers hanging around the pool table, though most of them seemed to be engrossed in their own conversations. No one was paying you any mind. And suddenly you felt like crying.

What was wrong with you? Was there something about you that just naturally repelled handsome men? Your friends were constantly telling you how beautiful you were, but that was hard to believe when you were the only one who never got hit on, never got asked out, never felt special or seen by anybody.

It was time to go home. You could feel the tears stinging the backs of your eyes, and the last thing you needed was to start bawling in the middle of a Navy bar. No one would notice if you just slipped away. You’d text your friends in the Uber and ask them to let you know how the rest of their night went. It always ended up being like this, and you weren’t sure why you had thought tonight would be any different.

Silently leaving your drink on the table with your friends’ things, you turned and began snaking your way through the crowd, trying to get to the bar so that you could close out your tab. Before you could get there, however, someone bumped into you from behind, sending your purse flying out of your hands.

Sighing softly, you dropped down to your hands and knees, praying you wouldn’t get stomped on as you tried to reach for it. Just as your hand was hovering over it, however, a much larger hand closed down around it and lifted it up.

Before you could shout for help, that same hand was hovering in front of your face, silently offering to help you up off the sticky bar floor. You lifted your head and your heart skipped a beat at the man who was gazing down at you. He had sandy brown hair, big blue eyes magnified behind a pair of military-issued glasses, and ruddy cheeks, an uncertain smile on his handsome face.

Wordlessly, you took his hand and allowed him to pull you back up to your feet. He was even taller than you had originally thought from your position down on the ground.

“Are you alright?” he asked loudly, trying to be heard over the din of the crowd.

“Yes,” you yelled back, nodding your head on the off-chance he hadn’t heard you. “Thank you,” you added.

“I’m guessing you were looking for this?” he went on, holding up your purse in his other hand.

You nodded again, accepting your bag with a grateful smile. “I guess I’m just a klutz,” you told him sheepishly, the realization dawning that this man had literally just witnessed you crawling on a grimy bar floor.

He smiled in response, which only made him look all the more handsome. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said, shaking his head. “Someone bumped into you.”

He had seen that? Had he actually been paying attention to you? Or did he just happen to be nearby?

“Well, thank you. I appreciate it,” you murmured, nervously fiddling with one of your bracelets as you glanced over at the bar.

He followed your gaze, his expression conflicted. “Well I don’t want to hold you up,” he told you, sounding vaguely disappointed.

Your head whipped back in his direction. “Oh, no! I mean, you’re not. I was just trying to get to the bar to close my tab.”

Were you losing your mind or did he really look disappointed now?

“Oh, you’re leaving?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder. “I, um, I thought I saw you with the girls who were hanging out with my friends,” he explained, indicating the group at the pool table with his thumb.

He was a part of that group? Was this a sign that maybe you shouldn’t leave after all?

“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded, chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to think of what to say. “I just, um…well, it’s kind of loud in here and I just…” Your sentence trailed off as you realized how lame you sounded.

“Would you like to maybe go outside for a minute?” he suggested. When you hesitated, he stammered, “I mean, of course you don’t have to. I’m sorry. I mean, obviously you just want to get out of here and I’m—”

“No,” you cut him off, briefly brushing your fingers against his arm. “I mean, I would like that,” you clarified with a shy smile.

“Oh,” he blinked, looking a little surprised. But then he brightened instantly, his bright blue eyes shining as he smiled at you in return. “I’m Bob, by the way. Bob Floyd,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand to you.

Slipping your hand into his, you smiled wider as you told him your name, beaming when he repeated it back to you and told you it was pretty.

“So do you have a callsign, too, Bob?” you asked curiously as he led you through the crowd and towards one of the back doors that faced the beach. “Your friends were telling me and my friends their callsigns earlier.”

“Oh, um, yeah,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck as he held open the door that led to a little back patio with picnic tables. It was relatively empty, except for a few people hanging out in the sand. “My callsign is Bob. Original, I know,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh, as if he was used to being made fun of for it.

In that instant, you felt a deep sense of connectedness to him that you couldn’t explain. Maybe it was the way he ducked his head and averted his gaze, like he was trying to hide, or the way he nervously shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose, but you were suddenly certain that no one understood what it felt like to be in your shoes more than he did. To be overlooked, forgotten, underestimated. To be uncomfortable in your own skin because you were so certain you were never going to be enough for people.

“I like it,” you told him with a smile.

“Thank you,” he replied sincerely, looking caught off guard and surprised by your words once again.

The two of you wandered over to one of the picnic tables and took seats opposite each other, the fairy lights strung up outside illuminating his features as he gazed at you.

“Is this your first time at The Hard Deck?” he asked curiously, resting his elbows on the table. “I feel like I’d remember seeing you.”

You bit down on your lower lip to hide your smile, his words warming you from the inside out. “It is, actually. It was my friend Shawna’s idea to come tonight. She just recently started working at NMCSD and some of her co-workers told her this was a good spot.”

“It is,” Bob nodded, smiling at you. “Penny Benjamin, the owner, is a good woman and she always makes sure to look out for us.”

“I’m guessing this is a regular spot for you guys then?” you questioned, glancing up and spotting your friends through one of the windows. They looked like they were still having a good time with the aviators they’d found.

“Pretty much, yeah,” he chuckled. “It’s been almost a year since I’ve been back in San Diego. I was at TOPGUN a few years ago, then got stationed at Lemoore, then got called back to TOPGUN last October for a special mission, then got asked to stay on permanently with my new squadron. The Hard Deck has become like a second home,” he joked.

You laughed softly, charmed by the way he told you the story without a trace of arrogance or conceit. Clearly, he was one of the Navy’s best pilots if he had been called to TOPGUN not once, but twice, but he wasn’t bragging or boasting. He was just stating the facts.

As if he could read your mind, Bob explained, “I’m actually not a pilot. I’m a Weapons Systems Officer. I ride in the rear of the jet and deal with navigation and operating the aircraft system. I wanted to be a pilot when I was young, but my vision’s always been a problem. I’m proud to be a WSO though. And I have a great partner.”

“I think that sounds really impressive,” you told him honestly, reaching out and resting your hand over his. “I’m sure that takes a tremendous amount of skill and talent. If it was up to me, we’d never make it off the ground,” you grinned.

Bob smiled in return. “I’m sure you’d get the hang of it real quick. You seem really smart,” he said, the tips of his ears turning red as he ducked his head slightly. “So, uh, what do you do?”

“I’m a teacher,” you replied. “I teach history to middle schoolers.”

“Now that’s something I’m sure takes a tremendous amount of skill and talent. Just the thought of middle schoolers terrifies me,” he admitted, which made both of you laugh. “And history, too, huh? I love history. It was always my favorite subject in school.”

“Really?” you asked excitedly. It was rare that you found someone who enjoyed geeking out over history as much as you did.

“Absolutely. If I hadn’t gone into the Navy, I would have loved working in a museum or something. Maybe being a teacher, but like I said—middle schoolers terrify me,” he grinned, his eyes crinkling.

“There’s always high school,” you pointed out with a smile.

“Even worse!” he exclaimed, which made you dissolve into a fit of giggles.

The two of you sat in companionable silence for a few moments, taking in the sound of the ocean waves and the faint trickle of music coming from inside the bar.

“Is that a piano?” you asked when the sound of the music registered in your ears.

“Sounds like Rooster is already trying to show off to your friend,” Bob teased, glancing over his shoulder as the door opened and a small group of rowdy sailors made their way outside.

“Trust me, Kelsey is probably eating it all up right now,” you assured him with a knowing look.

“My friends are very smooth with the ladies, but they’re also good guys, I promise. Your friends are in good hands,” he told you.

“It’s funny, Penny told us the same thing earlier,” you said.

“Ah, well, no one’s more trustworthy than Penny,” Bob smiled.

You nodded and the two of you sat in silence once again. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, however. You didn’t feel the need to fill it with awkward chatter. You were more than happy to just sit there with him, enjoying the cool evening air and listening to the sound of the waves lapping against the shore.

Bob looked like something was on his mind, like he wanted to say something, but was holding back. When you met his eyes and cocked your head to the side curiously, however, he seemed to come to a decision.

“Why were you going to leave?”

You were a little taken aback by his question and immediately dropped your gaze to your lap, fiddling with the strap of your purse and trying to figure out how to answer his question in a way that didn’t make you sound completely pathetic.

“I’m sorry, that’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked that,” Bob chastised himself, shaking his head. “Please, just forget it.”

“No, um, it’s okay,” you reassured him, clearing your throat slightly. You suddenly wished you had thought to grab a cup of water before coming outside. “Um, I guess I just realized that my friends were really hitting it off with your friends, and I didn’t see any point in sticking around any longer.”

Bob seemed troubled by your response, a small crease appearing between his brows. “Wasn’t there anybody for you to talk to?”

You turned your face away in embarrassment. Things had been going so well. You didn’t want Bob to know what a wallflower you truly were.

“Um, no, not really. My friends are the ones guys usually want to talk to,” you admitted quietly, your voice nearly drowned out by the wind. Your mouth felt so dry, and your hands were sweaty as you wiped them against your jeans.

Bob fully frowned at that. “Guys should be lined up out the door to talk to you,” he said softly, his voice serious.

“That’s sweet of you to say,” you murmured, staring down at the table instead of meeting his eyes.

“I’m not just saying it,” Bob insisted, his tone so urgent that it actually caused you to lift your head up to look at him. “You’re sweet and kind and funny and smart and so beautiful. Guys would have to be insane not to want to talk to you. I’m honestly shocked you’re out here talking to me of all people.”

“Don’t say that,” you begged him, your heart hurting to think that other women didn’t appreciate the wonderful man sitting before you.

“I know that I’m not like my friends,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he blushed furiously. “I know I’m not the kind of guy that girls want to talk to. So I know what it’s like to feel like you could just disappear in a place like this and nobody would notice. I hate that you feel that way, too.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You had never met anyone before who seemed to know your thoughts so clearly, who could read your mind and understand everything you were feeling.

“Bob,” you breathed out, reaching across the table and clasping one of his hands between both of yours. “I think you’re a terrific guy. And the girls who can’t see that? It’s their loss.”

He smiled at that, his gaze fixed on your face as he rested his free hand over yours, brushing your knuckles with his thumb. “I’m really glad you didn’t leave.”

“I’m really glad you asked me to stay.”

He said nothing in response, just held your hand tighter as his blue eyes bore into yours, as if he was reading the very depths of your soul.

The air hung thick with tension as the two of you stared at one another, leaning in closer and closer until your lips had no choice but to meet, his mouth firm, but gentle as it closed over yours.

It was soft and sweet and chaste, but when the two of you pulled back, you were both stammering and blushing like a couple of schoolchildren.

The stillness of the moment was broken a moment later when your friends shoved open the door and spilled out onto the back patio.

“There you are!” Renee exclaimed, hands on her hips as she did her best impression of your mother. “You had us scared half to death!”

“I told you she was fine,” Shawna insisted, rolling her eyes and mouthing ‘Sorry!’ to you.

“See? Nothing to be worried about,” Kelsey added. “She’s with…” She let her sentence trail off, shooting you a look to make quick introductions.

“Um, Bob! This is Bob,” you quickly supplied, squeezing his hand and shooting him an apologetic look.

“She’s with Bob!” Kelsey said, poking Renee in the side.

“Floyd, there you are! We were wondering where the hell you got off to,” Hangman said, joining your group and wrapping an arm around Renee’s waist.

“I guess they did notice we disappeared after all,” you whispered to Bob with a knowing smile.

“Of course we did!” Kelsey butted in, smiling when Rooster stepped up behind her and slipped his hand into hers.

“We were all going to head back to my place for a midnight swim,” Shawna explained, beaming up at Coyote. Your friend’s apartment complex was the only one that had a pool, and her landlord was cool enough to allow residents to use it whenever they wanted, so long as they were mindful of the noise. “Invite your friend!”

Your cheeks grew warm as everyone stared at you expectantly. “Um, Bob, would you like to come swimming with us?”

“I’d love to,” Bob grinned, his eyes fixed on you and only you.

Your friends clapped and cheered, which made your cheeks grow all the hotter.

“C’mon, let’s go close our tabs. Jake’s paying for the Ubers,” Renee smirked, patting the blonde’s chest as she gazed up at him.

“Aww, thanks, Jake,” Coyote grinned, smacking his friend on the shoulder as he and Shawna headed back inside.

“Owe you one, man,” Rooster nodded, leading Kelsey back into the bar.

“Hey, wait a second—”

“That’s what you get for losing two rounds of pool,” Renee teased, planting a kiss on his cheek before dragging him back inside.

Once you and Bob were left alone in the blessed silence once more, you looked at each other and couldn’t help but crack up laughing.

“I think your friends have really met their matches in my friends,” you told him playfully, gathering your things and rising from the picnic table.

“I think so,” Bob nodded, rising as well. “But I think I really met my match in you.”

Smiling, you slipped your hand into his and beamed up at him. “I couldn’t agree more.”

And as you walked out of The Hard Deck hand-in-hand with Bob, catching the victorious looks and playful winks your friends were shooting your way, you found yourself very grateful for all the times it had never worked out for you before this. Because you were certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bob Floyd had been worth waiting for.

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman

[seresinhangmanjake]

Super Soft!Simon Riley x reader - You're terrified that Simon's not making safe choices when he's on deployment, so he comforts you. (fluff, allusion to future smut (barely), drunk johnny, cod inaccuracies)

Johnny recounts the tale of their hard-earned achievement—a victory, as they have deemed it—with a number of beers in his system that you’ve long stopped counting. As he sits at your kitchen table, he is looser, giddier, freer with his words, and spares no detail of your boyfriend’s selfless acts of bravery during their last deployment. Acts that got him shot at; one of those bullets finding their home.

You’d be proud of him, if not for the fear that built up over months from recurring nightmares and an overactive imagination—all of which had you losing the love of your life. But that’s not out of character. You think about yourself, you think about your boyfriend, before you think about the lives he saves when he’s away from you. Maybe it’s wrong, or unfair, but you can’t help it.

While Simon’s work is not something he ever kept secret, you don’t need the reminder that the preservation of his life is not always his priority. It can't be. There are other factors that dictate his future. He has a team, people who depend on him. He has responsibilities and orders to follow. Control is often snatched from his fingertips. And so, what does that mean for the two of you? 

You don’t care to think about it. Not tonight. Not at midnight from a friend who should have passed out on your couch hours ago. So you stretch, yawn, and excuse yourself for bed before your brain implodes from any more of Johnny’s ramblings.

Simon knows. He spent the night squeezing your hip each time you tensed in his lap at Johnny’s words, and now, as you stand to head to the bedroom, he holds onto your hand until your fingers slip from his. Deep brown eyes are filled with guilt and apology and all you can offer in return is a slight upturn of the lips that barely qualifies as a smile.

Away from the men, you cry in your and Simon’s shared bed, waiting for him to encourage Johnny to the couch. There's a few more loud laughs, a whine when Simon cuts off his friend's alcohol supply, and then a final groan of acceptance as you hear the springs of your couch squeak under the weight of a muscled body. It’s only when the animated snores of your drunk friend reach your ears that the door to your room creaks on its hinges.

Simon’s footsteps are thumps muffled by carpeting. From your peripherals you see him shed his clothes as he moves to you. Shoes, then t-shirt, then jeans, until he's in his underwear and settling onto the mattress behind you. 

His arm slips under yours around your waist and he tugs your back to his chest, into the cocoon of warmth. 

“Do you know what I thought when I first saw you?” he asks, gruff and thick. His voice rumbles from his chest, vibrating against your spine as his breath brushes your ear. “That my life is over.

“Everything I want, everything I need—none of it matters anymore. All because of one look at a woman who was too busy with her friends to notice me,” he says. “I thought, I'm ruined now. If you leave this bar right this second, I won't be able to forget you. And if you don't leave, I can't ever let you go. I didn't know your name and you had me ready to change my whole world for you.”

You sniffle but don't bother to wipe away the tear that escapes. “That's insane, Si,” you whisper.

“It is,” he agrees, pressing a kiss just under your ear. “But it happened. I let you in and you latched on to my entire existence like this beautiful, little parasite. Just like I wanted you to. My life ended and it became our life. 

“I don't take a single step without considering you. Not here and not there. So if you think I don't try to be careful when I'm gone, you're wrong,” he tells you. “I try for you. I try for us.”

Yet, ‘trying’ means he still gets injured; he gets another circular scar to add to the healed knife slashes and the burned patch on his upper arm. ‘Trying’ is not always about picking the safer of two options, but about optimizing luck, which is rare enough as it is. And that terrifies you.

“What if you step wrong not knowing that it's wrong?” you ask. “What if you think it's right and then you're gone? You can't tell me that will never happen.”

Simon sighs. “No, I can't. But you trust me, don't you?”

Turning in his arms—your nose nearly nudging his—you place your hand on his cheek and run your thumb along his cheekbone. “Of course I do.”

“Then don't mourn me while I'm still here, love,” he breathes against your lips. “Can you do that for me?”

You nod, because you’d do anything for him. 

“Good girl.” Simon smiles lightly and slides his palm from your back down the length of your arm. He squeezes your fingers, then moves further, tucking his hand into the front of your underwear. “My girl,” he whispers and presses his lips to yours.

A/N: i dont usually write different stuff but i felt like it so i did

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #call of duty #simon riley x you #cod ghost #johnny soap mactavish