#But I gotta head out now and also gotta leave early in the morning tomorrow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joemothersfavoritechild · 11 months

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“across the street” pt. 2

-3k-ish words

-mike schmidt x fem!reader

-no trauma au

an: thanks for all the love on my last post!! i took some inspiration from a few joel miller fics for this one. also, referring to the ending, gotta let it marinate or sum. and if you get the orange reference, marry me.

summary: you have a late night phone call with yk who, and build furniture in the morning.

part one is here!

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You plopped down in your chair, sighing while rubbing hand sanitizer over your hands. Your shift had been busy as hell, this being the first break you had all day, and it was only halfway over. You wiped your now clean hands over your eyes, trying to rub the tired soreness out of them. At least the pay is good, you thought.

Your coworker calling your name pulled you away from your thoughts.

“25 wants you again.” They said.

“Why me?” You whined.

“I don’t know, I think she prefers women.” They answered your rhetorical, giving you a sympathetic smile.

“Fuck me, I’m going to have to take my lunch after this. I’m never working another Sunday.” You said, standing up on your practically creaking legs.

This was how the rest of your afternoon went, running in all directions like a chicken with its head cut off. “23 wants an ice cream,” “25 pulled out her IV again,” “Call security on 26, he’s trying to leave.” It was an absolute shit show, you hardly had a chance to see the time on your phone, let alone check for a text that you were desperate to receive.

Your drive home was quiet, soft music playing to hopefully decompress you. It always seemed to help. You pulled into your driveway, noticing the lights on at a certain someone’s house across the street, his old Accord telling you that he was home. You turned your car off, trying to stop looking at it from your rearview.

Walking into your house wasn’t as satisfying as you’d hoped, boxes still covering the floor. You took your shoes off as you set your work bag on the ground. You looked at your bed frame again in the dark, not bothering to turn a light on. Was a day too early to expect a message? Was that considered desperate? Probably, you thought. But fuck, you were so desperate. He checked all the boxes,

cute? : check

siblings? : check

caring? : check

a little mean? : check

dorky as hell? : check

abandonment issues? : probably check!

You forced yourself to pull your eyes off the box. As the saying goes, a watched fish doesn’t get caught.

That’s not right, you think. Your tired brain can’t decipher what you were trying to go for, but you knew it would’ve worked.

Anyways, constantly thinking about someone texting you doesn’t help anything. You plugged your phone into the charger near the couch, purposefully ignoring staring at it for too long.

Your eyes fell back to the boxes surrounding you. You passed them all, going straight to your bathroom to shower.

The shower was the right call, you decided. Scorching water loosened your muscles and kept your mind in the present. Washing the outside world off your skin was the highlight of your day.

You got out of the shower, eventually. The warm water didn’t last as long as you had hoped, though it did try. Your nearly hour-long shower would overwhelm any water heater on the market. You quickly dried yourself off, taking the time to brush your teeth and apply your skincare before wrapping your towel around yourself and stepping into your bedroom. You threw on some pajamas from your suitcase that moved with you; pajama pants and an old shirt.

You balled up your work clothes into your towel and put them all in the laundry basket in the corner of your room, already beginning to overflow. You reminded yourself to start the laundry sometime tomorrow as you walked back to your temporary bed, the large green couch in your living room.

You pulled back the covers on the couch, piling into it. You had completely decked it out; two blankets, a comforter, two pillows (one for your head, one for between your legs), and the fan dialed up. You closed your eyes, listening to the white noise of the fan above you.

You were interrupted by the shrill noise of your phone ringing behind you. You groaned, folding your blankets over so you could get off the couch and walk to the charger. You ripped your phone off the charger, taking it with you as you laid back into your bed. You re-adjusted your blankets before pulling the phone under your ear and swiping to accept the call.

“Hello?” You said groggily.

“Hey.” A voice responded. It took you a moment, but eventually, you recognized it. You were suddenly awake with nervousness.

“Hey, Mike.”

“Hi. Um, I texted you,” He said, sounding more like a question than a comment. “A few times, not a big deal. I just wanted to make sure you were alive.” He joked.

You paused, trying to quickly check your messages.

“You there?” He asked.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m here. Sorry, I’ve been working all day. It was super busy, so I didn’t have time to check my phone, and when I got home all I was thinking about was sleep.” You described.

“No need to be sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You’re okay?”

“I’m okay.” You responded.

“Good, good,” He pauses. “So, um, how was your day?”

“Pretty shitty.” You summarize, hearing him laugh in the background.

“Tell me about it.”

So, you did. You proceeded to tell him all the gritty details about your job. What your coworkers are like, the patients that you had to deal with, the frequent fliers, all of it. He asked a lot of questions, making you feel more comfortable rambling on to him.

“What’d you have for lunch?” He asked.

“I had leftover wingstop, I barely have any food at the house.”

“What’s your order?”

“Eight-piece boneless, classic hot. With fries, ranch, and a huge coke. It was amazing,” You said, practically salivating remembering it. “What about you and Abs?” You asked.

“It was very fancy, I don’t know if you’re prepared to hear me talk about it, you might be jealous,” He said sarcastically. “I made cheese quesadillas.”

You laughed a little too long at that, surprised. He was funny, another check.

You talked on the phone for a while, so long that you were talking about the most boring stuff. Like how Abby was a picky eater, and it annoyed Mike because all he wanted to do was eat a good burger now and again. It was sickly sweet and felt like being a teenager again. Whispering as to not wake your parents up, hoping that they wouldn’t catch you up past your bedtime.

You’re not sure when it happened, but you fell asleep on the phone. Mike was talking about something, maybe about the tv show he had been watching. You’re not exactly positive, but you know that you passed out cold.

Your eyes fluttered open, the phone still pressed up against your cheek, warm from the contact. You blinked rapidly, trying to keep your dream in your mind. You had to think hard, as it was delicate. If you let it go, you’d never remember what it was.

It was a good dream, as most of yours tended to be. You didn’t remember a lot, only pieces of it. But you knew Mike was there. You knew that he had led you to your bed, pulling you under the covers with him. You talked, cuddling close to him. God, it had felt so real. You could practically see the lines under his eyes and the pores on his nose. You smiled, but this felt a little creepy at this point. Borderline delusional, your mind added. You barely knew him and you were already dreaming about him.

You grabbed the phone from under your face, groaning as it got unstuck from your skin. Thankfully, it wasn’t dead. You unlocked it, taking the opportunity to look at the texts that you had gotten the night before.

Yesterday, 12:36 pm: hey, this is mike. i’ll need you on the weekends from 8 am-4 pm. and idc that you said not to pay you, i’m building your bed too.

Yesterday, 2:49 pm: you okay?

Yesterday, 5:03 pm: not to be creepy, but i think i’m going to call you. you’re worrying me a little lol

Today, 1:45 am: i think you fell asleep, i’ll talk to you in the morning :)

You smiled, making a contact for him. “mike <3” was now typing. Three little dots popped up on your screen and you quickly swiped out in nervousness. You opened it again when you got a notification.

Today, 10:23 am: i dropped abby off for school and slept in a little, is it okay if i come over to build that bed frame for you?

You smiled again, quickly replying to make up for last night.

Today, 10:24 am: yeah, ofc. give me a few minutes to wake up lol, i need to brush my teeth and clean up for a second.

He replied immediately.

Today, 10:24 am: lmk when you’re ready

You willed yourself to stop smiling, god it had been too long. You hardly knew how to act with a potential date.

“Oh, god.” You muttered to yourself, realizing you had to talk to him. Why did you have to talk to a man to get a boyfriend? Why couldn’t it just happen telepathically?

You sighed, rolling off the couch. You plugged your phone back into the charger, making your way to the bathroom. You completed your morning routine and ran to your bedroom to pick something out to wear for the day. You decided to go for casual, grey sweatpants and a green hoodie. Didn’t want to seem too desperate. You pulled your socks up your feet, laughing at yourself.

You grabbed a quick breakfast from your kitchen, consisting of leftover cookies and a slice of cold pizza. You tried your best to tidy your place up, moving boxes to the corner of the living room. Running down the hallway to your bedroom with your boxed bed frame in hand, you placed it on the floor, taking the other boxes and moving them to the hallway. You scrubbed your toilet and sink, turning on the air fresheners you had placed around the house.

You washed your hands, drying them before returning to the living room. You texted Mike, letting him know that you were ready. He liked the text message, and in less than two minutes he was knocking on your door.

You eyed the door at the noise. Jesus, he was not playing around. You took another deep breath, opening the door to see him standing there with a small smile. He went for casual too, you noted. He wore a black t-shirt and a pair of grey sweats. He held a bag, which you assumed was full of tools.

You smiled at him as a greeting and opened the door wider to allow him to walk into your house.

“Hey.” He said as you walked past you.

“Hi, thanks for coming so quickly.” You responded. “You didn’t have to, the payment feels premature.” You joked, shutting the front door. He looked a you for a second while taking his shoes off at the entryway.

“Shut up, you can’t sleep on the couch for a week”

“I totally can.” You bite back.

“You won’t, where’s your bedroom?” He finished, looking at you again.

You were shocked into silence, feeling your cheeks warm up. The comment made your head spin. Fuck, could he tell that you liked that?

You said nothing, ignoring his little smirk as you walked him to your bedroom. He followed behind you, dropping the bag on the floor with a small thump.

“Do you need any help or something?” You asked finally, breaking the tense silence.

“No, I’m good. I’ve done a lot of stuff like this,” He answered, shrugging. “You could put on some background music?” He suggested.

“That, I can do.”

You nodded, pulling your phone out of your pocket. You hesitated, before choosing a slower playlist of yours. Something calm, that you didn’t have to focus on. He nodded in enjoyment, then began to open the box that held your bed frame. He spilled the contents onto the floor, then kneeled on the ground. He started pulling stuff out of his bag. You guessed correctly, it was full of tools.

You just watched, sitting down against the wall of your room. It was attractive, him expertly putting your bed frame together. He was good with his hands, you wondered what else he was good at. He looked at you after a moment.

“You just gonna watch?”

“If that’s okay.” You shrugged, he nodded at your sort of question. He tried to hide his smile.

He was going to town, drilling, piecing parts together, all while completely ignoring the instructions. He didn’t need them.

After a while, you could tell he was getting hot. His black shirt was sticking to his skin. You hated to admit that it did something to you. You felt a warmth settle in your stomach and tried your best to will it away. Your eyes settled on his back, looking up to his neck when he turned towards you.

“Why’re looking at me like that?” He asked, eyes narrowed out of curiosity.

You made eye contact with him like a deer in headlights. Smiling at you, he laughed a little. Your words were stuck in your throat, embarrassed about being caught.

“Um, do you want some water?” You settled on.

“Sure.” He answered, chuckling at your suddenly shy demeanor.

You stood up off the floor and walked out of your room, closing the door behind you. What the fuck was that? You scolded yourself, internally. Now he was going to think that you were a horny weirdo. I mean, you were, but he didn’t need to know that yet.

You shook your head at yourself as you poured him a glass. This was ridiculous, you needed to chill out.

You came back into the bedroom and handed him the glass. He took it from you gratefully, fingers brushing over yours as he grabbed it. Telling you a small “thank you,” he brought the glass to his lips and began to drink greedily. You watched him as he downed the glass, some dripping down his chin.

When he was finished, he wiped a hand over his stubble. He looked over to you, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He held the glass out to you and you took it, quickly walking out of the room.

You placed the glass in the sink, blinking to try and bring yourself back to life. How did someone make drinking water look so good? How was that even possible? And god, the look he gave you.

You needed to get it together before you blew it. Talk to him, say something, anything other than just fucking staring at him.

You walked back into the room with a mission, you were going to talk to him. Taking your spot on the floor, you cleared your throat.

“So, what’s your favorite food?” You decided on.

He barely paused before answering, “Definitely pasta, like a good chicken alfredo.”

“Shit, that’s a good answer. I’m really into sushi right now. Can’t afford it, but into it.” You said, smiling at his willingness to answer.

The stupid questions continued for a few minutes. The two of you got to know the smallest details of your likes and dislikes. Turns out, Mike can’t stand the color yellow but loves orange. He’s not much of a drinker, mainly because he can’t afford it, but he does occasionally smoke weed. He’s a cat person but would get a dog if Abby asked for one. It killed you when he talked about his sister because it was so obvious how much he loved her.

Eventually, he finished your bed frame. The gentleman that he is forced him to carry your mattress in from the laundry room, helping you set that up too. Mike may have been on the shorter side, but he was strong as hell. The two of you put on your sheets, blankets, pillows, and finally your comforter. It was almost too domestic, too real.

When you were finished, you didn’t want him to leave. You think he felt the same. This was confirmed when he saw the tv sitting in your closet.

“Do you want me to mount that for you?” He asked.

I want you to mount me, you fought against saying.

“That would be great.” You agreed.

Mike probably spent three hours helping you put your bedroom together, setting up shelves, arranging your cabinets, and helping you put your pictures and posters up while you talked his ear off.

Even though you told him a million times that he didn’t need to, he hung your clothes up in your closet while you folded the rest to go in your new dresser. Finally, your room was fully decorated and unpacked.

He rubbed his hands together, settling on the end of your bed. You sat next to him.

“Thank you, seriously. I was dreading doing all of that by myself.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He said.

You both looked at each other for a second too long, the tension between the two of you becoming thick. You took breaks from looking at his eyes by moving down to his lips. You took a deep breath, noticing him moving closer to you.

He hesitated, pushing a stray hair behind your ear instead. His hand lingered on your face, eventually moving down your arm to put your hand in his. He interlocked your fingers together, pulling it close to him and pressing a soft kiss on your knuckles. He held you there, hand resting on his chin. This was almost more intimate than a kiss, you thought.

“Do you not-” You started, getting interrupted.

“I want to, believe me.”

You looked at him, willing him to continue.

“I don’t want you to think that’s all this is.” He explained, you nodded. You know that this was him being respectful, but it made you want to tear his clothes off even more. Forbidden fruit, if you will.

“Let me take you on a date, tomorrow on my lunch break. I know a place you’d like.” He continued.

“Okay.” You said, smiling.

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**i do not give anyone permission to use my work as your own, respectfully

this belongs to @joemothersfavoritechild **

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makedatmoneymayne · 3 months

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✨✨Welcome (Backity Back) to The Boys: Pt.3✨✨

Antony Starr x Black Reader(Khadijah) x a wee bit of Chace Crawford

[Side note: I don't proofread until wayy later and i'm also trying new things each chapter. So if there is any confusion JUST BEAR WITH ME. Hope you still enjoy though🙂]

~This one's a bit longer~

Warnings: SMUT, fluff, exhibitionism, drinking and Chace😃

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Khadijah's POV❤️

After that embarrassing ass day, Khadijah went out and got some drinks with the girls. Ughh singing horribly and just clumsy as fuck in front of him too whyyyy.

"Them shots need to hurry the fuck up neow." she blurt out impatiently tapping her foot.

"The fuck you so up tight for? We just found some seats in here, relax." Julaya says slightly impatient too but for something, more like someone, totally different.

"Heh what, Jessie not textin back quick enough?" Kapoia laughs grabbing one of the shots at just arrived.

Before anyone could grab anymore or say anything, she downed 3 of them back to back leaving 7 more left. Feeling the liquor burn away every last ounce of embarrassment that she had left for the night.

"Daaaayyyuuuuummm!!!" They say in unison.

Khadijah looked over already feeling it, "I'm cool, what was you gonna say Julaya?"

"Baby we ain't ask if you were cool we know you still trippin out over that embarrassing shit you did earlier" Kapoia shakes her head. "Just slow the fuck down alright we gotta flight in the morning.

Oh shit. She had totally forgot Eric asked her to cater again but for the people at comic con. Of course her ass said yes just to go get drunk right after the question was asked.

"Alright alright I'll slow down" raising her eyebrows at them.

They breathe a sigh of relief only to be cut off by Khadijah calling for more shots. "Alright go on Julaya." she gave her, her full attention.

"We aint even fini- you know what, nevermind yeah he isn't texting back. I mean okay they might have to wake up early tomorrow but it only takes two secs to text at least "Hey" you know?" her words were slurred throughout her sentence due to her taking more shots.

"I'm so sorry Julaya, I wanna give you advice but uhhm girl. These drinks kicking my ass." Kapoia mumbles into her hands as she rubbed her face.

"It will be okay girl he looked like he was damn near in love with you when yall was joggin to the car." Khadijah says now completely done after MANYYY rounds of drinks.

"Let's go the fuck homeeeee, I can't do no moeee." Kapoia whines trying to straighten up, eyeing this brown skinned baddie with a long curly afro before putting her head back down.

Khadijah and Julaya collectively cackle at her. "You a mess when you drunk K, had that girl looking worried." Julaya said still laughing.

"Yeah yeah hush and let's go home." she damn already near at the door. We followed her out sorta stumbling to call an uber.

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Khadijah tossed and turned in her bed after having a nice long shower. He was on her mind so much it interrupted her sleep. Right on cue she got a simple message just saying hi, and it's from ANTONYYYY. She couldn't help herself just getting that message alone, imagining his face, she had to get some relief.

Rubbing her soaked bud, she let out the most nastiest moan. Khadijah texted him back letting him know she was already thinking about him. She had to shut the fuck up though real shit, Julaya and Kapoia ass probably asleep. A naughty thought came to mind, she grabbed one of her four pillows, putting it near her feet.

Propping up her phone on the pillow, showing her now naked body glistening from the light next to her. Hitting the timer, she got into position, posing, opening her legs as wide as possible.

Once the pic was taken Khadijah wasted no time sending it to him showing him how much she was thinking about him even slipping the word "daddy" in there because she knew he'd go wild from that alone. He took fucking forever to answer. For some reason, she felt like she was in the wrong and began to ask if he liked it kind of apologizing just in case he didn't. Before she could finish her third message, she saw a blurred video.

Opening it Khadijah gasped, pussy immediately throbbing and wet. This nigga is moaning her name stroking that long thick pipe. She was deadass hooked

She immediately got to texting him if they could meet up tonight she NEEDED that. He sadly declined but said they'd meet again soon after his interviews. Going back to the video, she's actually salivating for this man. Khadijah got up on her knees at a slight angle to ride her own fingers, she used two of her fingers to act as if it was his dick she was riding, his video on rewind. She propped her phone back up right back up behind her, feeling herself about to cum.

Riding her fingers at a fast tempo, gripping the headboard with her other hand, making sure her ass shook in the frame for him to see. She started to cum but this time around, it felt like more, almost like she was gonna- before she could register what the fuck was going on, her body jolted forward and a stream shot out of her hitting her camera so hard it paused the recording.

"Oh shit no no no my phoneee." Khadijah panicked a little still sending him the video with a message saying she'd be waiting for him. Sitting her phone on the nightstand, she headed to the shower, finding it funny he has to catch a flight too tomorrow. Paying it no mind she hopped in the shower, after, going straight bed.

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Khadijah was late. She's usually never late but this morning she was pretty fucking late and all because she was being fucking horny. She hoped damn near prayed Antony remembered nothing. Last night wasn't particularly her. Sober Khadijah would've just had a simple convo. Now this 46 year old nigga know how her pussy looked. THEY BARELY EVEN SPOKE.

"WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG!" "YOU AINT GOT NO NIGGAS SO WHAT HAPPENED!" Kapoia started and Julaya finished.

Khadijah's head was hurting like hell from the hangover and the thought of what she did with him. Now this?! She couldn't be asked, walking past them going straight to cooking. "Shhh im here now lets get going I got all our bags in the car ready."

After setting up the shop, Khadijah and the girls leave the other workers to take their shift for 2 weeks.

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When they finally land it's night time already. Yawning to herself, Khadijah tells the girls, "It's hella pretty yall trust i get it, but it's cold and we need to get to the hotel Eric bought for us. He for-real got us our own rooms too."

"Okayyy Big Bank Erik not the little one!!" Julaya yells getting her stuff for the taxi ride to the hotel.

"Ouuu dis noiiiiceeee." Kapoia says astonished taking picture of the hotel exterior.

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The sun's still setting and Khadijah NEEDED a picture of it from this beautiful view Eric gave her in her room. Right after she took the picture of it, her phone starts ringing for a FaceTime call, it the girls group chat.

"He hooked us the fuck up yall ion know this window lookin real fuck-on-able you know." Julaya sighs into the phone. It was a ceiling to floor window giving an amazing view in each of their rooms.

"Hell yea I could get one of these fine New York ladies to come see bout me on this window." Kapoia adds on.

"How the fuck yall gone fuck on the window?! Don't yall gotta scissor nd shit?" Julaya pauses after saying that "THE STRAAAAAPPP OHHHHHH GO AHEAD DEN K!!"

"Yall mfs are something elsee, ima go to bed love yalll." Khadijah said before hanging up, melting into her covers getting Antony out her mind for tonight.

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Khadijah and the girls woke up the next morning, freshening up and throwing on their outfits for the day. Khadijah chose a two-toned brown floral skirt with a grey crop and a sweater. She also threw on a few accessories making her fit pop. Julaya wore a khaki skirt with a Supernatural shirt tied to crop and some sandals for comfort with earrings. Kapoia wore a compression short sleeve shirt with baggy black pants and combat boots with all the accessories included.

Once done getting dressed, they called an uber to the convention at 8am. When they got out the car, they saw all these people already standing in-front of the convention waiting for it to start.

"That's actually fuckin crazy." Khadijah said before they all walked into the back which led to the kitchen. They all turned on their music in their one airpod, so they can still hear and communicate with each other.

Music blasting in their ears, they got to baking wasting no time. Pies, Cookies, Croissants, Donuts, anything they could think of baking they baked it.

It was around 11:30am when they got done baking. Khadijah finished decorating each of the platters hoping the people coming to the convention would love it, they all still wondered who were the tv shows coming.

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12:30pm hit, everyone was in there packed to the brim. Five mins later, It was go time. All the girls plastered a smile on their faces serving all the people in the conference area where the tv show in question is being interviewed. Time passed of the girls serving, this guy goes up to the podium fucking up a jelly filled donut.

"Where the hell did that donut come from" Tomer said determined to get one.

Khadijah paid it absolutely no mind she thought maybe it was a random tv show.

"Oh shit! I forgot to mention to you all and my cast. I got my good friend Khadijah to come on back to cater these yummy desserts again." Eric said with excitement.

Khadijah's head slowly turned to them hoping he wasn't there somehow someway. Looking down the line of stars she was relieved.

"Yeah come on up here darling I'd love to admire your pie again." Antony said sensually and no-one noticed.

Her eyes went straight to his wondering how in the hell are they both here together. While she was trying to see if he was there, they were already thinking about having her come to them to give them the pastries. She glanced at the girls before walking up to the cast.

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Antony's Lil POV ting

I woke up energized surprisingly. This hotel is fucking beautiful and what'd make it more beautiful is if she was here, Khadijah. Her body was so beautiful over the phone but it just wasn't enough for me I need her here in New York with me. If she was here I'd fuck her on an instant only if she wants you know.

I got to the convention and started answering some good and some really fucking odd questions. Some weird looking man got up to the podium eating a donut like it was his last meal jelly everywhere. Before he asked the question I thought about her again, wondering if she made them, then i'd understand why he's eating it with no common sense.

"Where the hell did that donut come from" Tomer said what we were all thinking. We were all hungry for some reason it's funny.

"Oh shit! I forgot to mention to you all and my cast. I got my good friend Khadijah to come on back to cater these yummy desserts again." Eric said with excitement not noticing my face going into a sinister smile.

I see her, not too well due to the lights flashing at us but I could tell she looked beautiful. She hasn't noticed me yet, that's because i'm all the way on the end sort of.

"We need you up her Khadijah show off them pastries girl." Erin said already clapping

"Yeah come on up here darling I'd love to admire your pie again." I try to out on the best sexy voice I could muster up.

She saw me and looked at me with surpriseand confusion. I gave her a smirk and a head tilt telling her to bring her sexy ass up here. She came up on the side where'd i'd be the last one getting a pastry.

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Khadijah was up on the stage and was given a great big applauds from the crowd, some random dude yelling "THIS IS FUCKING DELICIOUS." She was damn near sweating from the anxiety.

"Alright you fuckers relax she's a nervous girl." Antony noticed it and told the crowd off after a while.

Chace gave him a knowing look with a goofy smirk. He whispered to Antony who was next to him "She's yours now?"

Antony shrugged and said "Hopefully soon enough."

Khadijah finally got to Antony, somehow he made an excuse to make her feed him the food everyone except Chace believed.

"Fuck me Khadijah" Antony said so low everyone thought he said feed me.

But she. heard. it. all. Her shaky hand holding a cream filled donut was inching to his mouth. He's so in her area, he purposely rubbed his knee constantly on her leg. Nobody is noticing this sexual tension but you two. Her panties were so soaked she had to close her thighs as he bit into the donut. It got all over his mouth. He licked it up still making eye contact. It felt like everything was in slow mo she couldn't take it.

"Thank you sexy" Antony said meaning every word until the last. Nobody thought anything of his words again due to his friendly personality.

Once she got off the stage, Khadijah ran discreetly to her girls who witnessed the whole thing.

"He wanna be in yo stomach real bad baby it's actually crazy." Julaya said all giddy and exciteted with her.

"Right i've never seen a man tell someone to fuck them on stage. He kinda smooth ian gone lie nah." Kapoia said putting her hands up medium height.

They all continued on talking and laughing in the other room so no-one would hear. People started flowing out making the halls really hard to get through. Khadijah felt her phone vibrate and so did Julaya and Kapoia's.

"Okay I love yall I gotta go J textin me nonstop." Julaya said scurrying off.

"Go get some dick baby just be straight up. I right witchya except i'm gettin pussy." Kapoia said with a nasty laugh. No one knew she was fucking with Erin.

Khadijah was left alone smiling to herself thinking her friends were a mess. She saw the message Antony sent and her heart started beating FAST. "☺️" Was all he sent. She was super fucking confused what that was supposed to mean.

"All alone?" Khadijah knew that voice from anywhere. She turned to see Antony giving her his signature sexy smile again.

She pulled him to a secluded hallway so they can talk and no one would see.

"You want me all to yourself huh?" She could stop her smile from showing. "Your smile is just so beautiful Khadijah." He started stroking her cheek.

She grabbed the hand that's on her cheek just to hold it.

"Im sorry Antony I dont wanna seem like I was going too far i ju-" Khadijah tried to rush out before being interrupted by him kissing her.

The kiss got serious when she wrapped her arms around his neck. He added tongue, reaching behind taking her going up as an opportunity to feel the weight of her fat juicy ass.

In the quiet dark separated hall they continued making out only taking a break to breathe. Beside the commotion from the on going convention all they can hear is their wet tongues battling each others. Antony won that battle moving his hands from her ass to lift her skirt to feel her moist panty covered mound.

"All that for me baby?" Antony asked as they stop their kiss with one last loud smack.

Their heavy breaths still going, Khadijah a little more heightened due to Antony now rubbing her panty covered pussy. Khadijah was thrusting her hips to Antony's rubbing, reaching down to unbutton his jeans.

She brought out his semi hard dick stroking it to life. He was moaning like crazy with her, nobody can hear them really anyway right?

Antony got down on one knee putting both hands on her ass, pulling her forward to eat her out. He gave her pussy one long lick sticking the tip of this tongue in before taking it out slurping her clit up. He did that nonstop growling into her pussy.

Khadijah gripped his head, riding his tongue giving his hair a tight grip. Mid moan she looked up at Chace who was watching them with wanting eyes. She gave him an air kiss before going back to moaning from the head she was receiving from Antony. She blinked and Chace was gone.

Antony wasn't paying attention, Chace was looking everywhere for Antony and well he found him alright. Once he heard moaning from Khadijah he had to stop and stare back her biting his lip wishing he was behind her fucking her while Antony ate you out. He soon left hot and slightly bothered giving an actual great excuse for them to have a bit more privacy time without letting anyone know you two were together.

On one side was a lovely wholesome convention, on the other side, Antony's fingers were now in her panties fucking her so good.

"Mm I've been waiting for this shit, had me on the plane cumming so hard to your videos again." Antony moaned feeling her hand stroking his tip, dick rock hard.

She couldn't speak she was clouding her mind. "oh.. ohhhh fuckk mmm." Was all she could get out. Antony took out his fingers and she whined to the loss of her orgasm coming.

"I need to be in you NOW." Antony growled gripping her by the neck with one hand the other opening the closet door next her both.

He took herinside the room, it was like a medium sized conference room for staff.

(Like this but without the windows)

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

It was cute but Khadijah couldn't care about that right now. She was currently on her knees getting dick deep in her throat while a whole convention was going on.

"Mm fuck i'm loving that wet mouth." Antony let out this sexy ass moan. When she looked up at him his face was pure pleaser. He lifted his shirt and she saw his smooth sexy stomach. Khadijah had to feel his body, she put up both her hands to feel but before she knew it Antony took control grabbing her hands and pinning them on the wall so he could fuck her mouth.

"I'll tell you when you can touch me slut, keep giving me that mouth." He started a pace of fucking her mouth letting her drool all over her shirt. Her pussy even wetter than before from being called a slut.

Antony retracted his hips and picked you up giving you another extra sloppy tongue filled kiss. He snatched her sweater off and pulled her shirt down making it stretch around her waist "saving it for later" in his own words.

"These tits so fucking beautiful Khadijah." He salivated looking at the pierced nipples, hard and ready to be sucked.

He latched his mouth onto one while the rubbed, rolling his eyes back from the metallic taste.

"Ouhhhhhhh! daddy that mouth is so good." Khadijah couldn't keep quiet anymore letting out a series of "oh fuck! and daddy!"'s. When she got a little too loud he had to cover her mouth.

"You really want us to get caught slut? Wanna let everyone know who's treating you real good." Antony said not expecting her to nod her head.

Antony slowly let go of Khadijah's mouth nodding with her "Okay." Antony with his pants still down enough for his cock to be out, looked around the room. He opened the door wide for anyone to walk past.

The convention was almost over anyways right? Again you were fucking wrong, there was people talking everywhere right next to the having a great time.

(The hallway in question)

Anyone could go to that window right there and see the all american "Homelander's" dick standing high.

"Get your ass over here and hold on that window now." He pointed to the window. Khadijah was nervous as hell but willing. Antony already asked about this window, turns out it's Opaque glass. No one could see them fuck on it even if they got close up to it, to them it's dark. But Khadijah didn't know that and her anxiety can back better than ever. He had to tell her so she could be comfortable.

"Trust me baby they can't see us. But hearing on the other hand, you might want to keep it down before randoms start looking."

"Okay baby I trust you, I just really need you to fuck me until I can't speak straight" She gave him an innocent smile, all innocence gone.

"Oh you are trouble Ms. Wright." He gave her one last kiss licking her top lip, turning her around. She immediately bent over, letting him guide her hands to the window. Letting him give her ass a few smacks to watch it bounce. He pulled her skirt to her ankles putting his hand on her back to give her an arch.

"We have to be quick baby okay ?" Antony said with a sigh slowly sliding his thick long dick into her pussy so it wouldn't cause her pain.

"Daddy fuck me I don't care if it hurts I want itt!" She felt his hand go over her mouth again when a few people looked over at the window you guys were in.

"What did I just say? You like being a hard headed little slut huh? Nah fuck that MY hard headed slut." Antony's momentum sped up more and more until all that was heard in that hallway was heavy breaths, the sound of her ass clapping on his waist and the constant squelch of her creamy pussy. He lifted her up when all he got back from her was a "ohhh fuck" putting his mouth right by her ear.

Khadijah felt him on her back and right by her ear but she couldn't get her words out with how good he's pounding her pussy in also his hand was on her mouth how the fuck was she for real supposed to speak.

"Answer me or I'll stop and walk away." He slows down his hips, removing his hands, letting his New Zealand accent come out stronger while he's giving you demands.

"Yessss fuck please keep going I'm so close don't stop."

"I'll never stop when i'm deep in this wet shit." He couldn't contain himself, he wasn't actually going to stop he just needed her to pay the fuck attention.

Antony was fucking her so hard her wet cheek was planted on the window hard nipples bouncing on the hard glass before he gripped one pinching it. She couldn't do it anymore her orgasm was coming so strong she could even warn Antony, she just hoped he could tell by her knees shaking, damn near collapsing.

He did notice, removing his hand from her titty to her clit other hand on her stomach holding her in place. He circled her clit so fast feeling her pussy clench so hard it pushed him out and all he heard and probably others outside that window, "Ugh! Daddy! I'm Squirting!!" It was like an electric water gun shooting straight out on his shoes and lower part of her pants and all over her skirt. He went back in thrusting a few more times before turning he around and pushing her slightly onto her knees.

Khadijah was FUCKED from the waist down no pun intended. When he asked her to get on her knees though she already knew what was up and all of a sudden her knees were ready steady when she got down. She opened her mouth sticking her tongue out smacking his hand out the way to stroke his sloppy dick with both her hands.

Antony's brain stopped working while he tilted his head back letting out the loudest moan Khadijah has ever heard a man do. His cum flew out all over her face, in her mouth, and on her tits. He had never came this much until now and it felt like heaven. after he stopped cumming he got down on one knee to her level to give her one last kiss not caring about the mess.

"I have to go baby, be ready at 9pm tonight I wanna to take you out."

Khadijah nodded her head "Okay daddy I'll be ready." Her brain was still in sub mode as he walked away fixing himself before walking out like nothing happened. She turned around looking out the glass seeing no one even questioned a thing about where he was as he walked through the crowd. Khadijah left a message in the girls GC saying "Y'all he fucked me up the New Zealand way."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~Thank yall fuh reading this is my first REAL attempt at writing smut so I hope yall enjoyed that a bit

~~I had to add Chace somewhere that man too fine~~

#antony starr x black reader #antony starr x black!reader #black reader #black!reader #homelander x black reader #homelander x black!reader #the boys x black reader #homelander x reader #homelander #the boys #homelander x oc #homelander x you #chase crawford x black reader #chace crawford x black!reader #the deep x reader #the deep x black reader #the deep

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haleyhunwritess · 2 years

Note

hiiii if requests are open can u write one where she has bad period cramps and its seb or bucky taking care of her with like lots of fluff and maybe he teases her for crying at a commercial because shes feeling hormonal cuz of her period but it just ends with a lot of fluff💕

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝

pairing: bucky x reader

warning: period cramps, FLUFFFF

a/n: i woke up with the worst cramps possible and all i wanted was to cuddle with someone but i'm on campus now trying to get some work done :( i wanna post some more period comfort fics, maybe today or tomorrow! i have an old period comfort fic request from @chrisevansdaughter that i'm working on that i can hopefully post soon 💗

"Do you think it's bleeding? It feels like it's bleeding." Bucky groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Oh please, you're fine." You mumbled from the couch, clutching your lower abdomen while holding your breath as your cramps started to get worse.

This morning you'd woken up to the most painful cramps you've ever experienced. You assumed that they were pre-period cramps, and tried to go back to sleep. However, a few minutes later, you felt Bucky's hand on your shoulder gently shaking you awake. You mumbled five more minutes, before trying to go back to sleep.

"Love, wake up," he whispered, glancing down at the dark stain on the bed, "You're bleeding, doll."

Suddenly awake, you quickly opened your eyes and turned to look down at the crimson stain on the bed. Groaning loudly, you put your head in your hands. You normally got your period on time, though sometimes it could be a day or two late. It was rarely ever early. You weren't supposed to get your period for another 4 days, and yet here it was. You felt embarrassed, but fortunately that feeling didn't last long as your body started to cramp up again. You whimpered loudly, while clutching your stomach and struggling to breathe.

You struggled to sit up, as the cramps were somehow starting to get even worse. Bucky quickly put one arm behind your back, and held your hand in his, to help you sit up. You quietly thanked him before turning your gaze back down to the stain, and cursing silently, "I'm so sorry, bubba, I wasn't supposed to get my period yet. I didn't mean to ruin your sheets."

"Love, I'm not mad at you. You have nothing to be sorry about, it's okay. I'm sorry I had to wake you up but we've gotta get you cleaned up." Bucky kissed your forehead, before getting up and leaving the room.

He came back a few minutes later with some towels, a water bottle, and some ibuprofen. He handed you the ibuprofen first, which you gladly took before washing it down with some water. Then he helped you get up carefully, holding you gently in his arms as he lead you over to the bathroom. He put the towels down on the counter, then walked over to the shower to turn on the hot water.

"Alright, doll. You take as long as you need in there, okay? If you need anything, just shout and I'll come running. I'm just gonna go clean up in the room, okay?" Before you could even protest, he left the bathroom to take the sheets to the laundry.

You stepped out of the shower after a while, already starting to feel a bit better. You noticed Bucky had left a pair of his sweatpants and his favourite hoodie on the counter next to the towels. There was also a bag of supplies on the ground, with different feminine hygiene products, a heating pad, some painkillers you were definitely going to need later, and some other essentials. After drying yourself off with the towel, you got dressed quickly and decided to go check on Bucky.

You found him downstairs in the kitchen, pouring hot water into a cup. Walking over to him, you noticed a familiar sweet smell coming from the kitchen. That's when you noticed a fresh batch of his painfully-delicious pancakes sitting on the counter. You put your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you. He turned around, and pulled you into his arms gently, being careful not to hug you too tight in case you still have cramps.

You helped him carry the pancakes and the tea over to the living room. You sat down in front of the TV and started flipping through the channels. Bucky picked up your fork, and started feeding you small bites as you settled on what show to watch. Eventually, breakfast was over and you were cuddled up on the couch watching titanic. You've only seen the movie once and you found the ending sad, but you never cry at the ending. Until today. It seemed like your body was determined to make you miserable today as you wiped the tears that were streaming down your face at a fast pace. You hoped Bucky wouldn't notice that you were crying, especially just because of a movie. You glanced over at him and noticed he was straight at you, and trying to stifle a laugh. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't contain his laughter anymore. He got up from the couch, still laughing, as you glared him.

"Screw you, Barnes, it's not funny!" You picked up a pillow from the couch and threw it at him, but it only made him laugh harder.

"I'm sorry, love, I couldn't help it!" He chuckled as he picked up the pillow and threw it back on the couch next to you. "I didn't think you were one to cry at movies like that. It wasn't like one glistening tear either, doll, you were nearly sobbing. Don't get me wrong though, it was adorable!"

"You jerk!" You picked up the pillow again and threw it at him but it missed him once again. As he bent over to pick the pillow back up, you picked up the remote this time, and launched it at him. Unfortunately, this time it actually hit him.

"Ow, what the-" He got up, rubbing the back of his head, "That actually hurt, doll, what was that?"

"The remote" You mumbled, trying not to laugh.

He glared at you before bending down to pick up the pillow and throw it back at you. Although he didn't mean to, he threw it pretty hard and it hit your stomach, right as the cramps decided to make a comeback. He quickly apologized and walked over to you to make sure you weren't hurt too bad.

"Just go get me the pain-killers, doofus." You mumbled, laying down sideways, clutching your lower abdomen.

He got up and made his way to the kitchen, still rubbing the spot at the back of his head, the one where you threw the remote at.

"Do you think it's bleeding? It feels like it's bleeding." Bucky groaned, as he continued to rub the back of his head, checking for any blood.

"Oh please, you're fine." You mumbled from the couch, clutching your lower abdomen while holding your breath as your cramps started to get worse.

taglist/moots: @chrisevansdaughter @cherryflavoredchapsticck @livvinitt @marvel1984 @mustacherrylover @babyhatesreality @timidpumpkin @matchat3a @pono-pura-vida @sonalokibarnes @alex-ackerman-11 @ailathealternate @lollabear @buckysugar

#bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky x y/n #we love soft!bucky🥺🥺🥺#soft!bucky #period cramps #comfort fic #marvel x reader #haleyhunwritess #sebastian stan #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x you

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amyriadofleaves · 6 months

Text

outside it starts to pour — neuvillette | chapter five

synopsis: in the limelight of fontaine, the prying eyes of its people never truly tears their gaze off the iudex and you, the présidence du conseil d'état, which makes for baseless rumours to fester and echo throughout the theatrics of opera. you and neuvillette are challenged by the reputations the both of you are expected to uphold, and the weighty decision to navigate these intricacies rests upon the discerning judgement of fontaine's archon.

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ao3 : wattpad ˚　.˚　

⌗ pairing : neuvillette x fem!reader ⌗ feat : neuvillette, reader, wriothesley, clorinde, sigewinne, mention of furina ⌗ warnings : brief mention of poison consumption ⌗ word count: 7.6k

Behind the valour celebrated in tales of renowned swordsmen lies the silent duel against doubt and fear, where pride meets vulnerability.

Soreness racks your entire body and everything in you screams to stay still. An oddly familiar feeling of recollection drowns out the pinching of the gash that stands at bay; a dam that’s lost function. The morning after a duel never welcomed you; instead it tore you apart, and sewn you back together with the thread that puts you back together.

Your body aches all over, and your whole being begs you to stay still. A strangely familiar sense of memory overpowers the squeezing of the gash that was there to keep it at bay, like a broken dam. The morning following a duel never welcomed you; rather, it seemingly always tore you apart and stitched you back together with the same thread.

Turning to your clean side, you are greeted with a dozing Clorinde, arms crossed, slightly slipping off her chair, and her head slumped to the side. The realisation of your stinging torso hits as chuckles escape from your lips, observing how her hat tips by millimetres with each passing second. The bedside clock ticks, and you lazily refrain from turning your head, concluding that you've woken a little too early.

Before you can contemplate cleaning yourself up, the subtle shift in your movement stuns the duelist awake.

Her hat slips off her head.

Her voice is dry and coarse when she yawns. “Why, aren’t you up early?”

“Or maybe you just woke up late.”

“Duty calls even when sleep does, chenapan. I estimate that I have slept for only…” she checks her watch. “two and a half hours. You—however— have been asleep for almost forty-eight.”

You slump onto your back, and are now facing the ceiling (you ignore how a drop of water drips onto the apple of your cheek the second you turn). “Sucks to suck. I really needed that, though. Whatever it is, I have work tomorrow. The cogs aren’t gonna oil themselves.”

The ache as you move goes unnoticed at your sudden adamance to leave, and Clorinde promptly holds an arm out. “Wait.”

Complying, your hand finds its way to the edge of the mattress and you sit. “What?”

“I had to deal with some business on the surface, so I decided to purchase a new blouse and new pants, a skirt, another blouse except it’s blue, and…” she reaches for a bag that leans on the leg of the chair, and briefly pulls out a piece of cloth you assume is the blue blouse she’s talking about. I’ve seen enough of blue, you think, the hospital gown you wear is not flattering for your figure. You appreciate the thought nonetheless, and accept the gift. “ I also purchased a new pair of boots for you.”

You slowly outstretch your arms, weary with indolence and fatigue. “Thank you…?”

“Think of it as an apology. “

“Oh? That’s certainly a first. The Champion Duelist apologises for injuries sustained from in a ring! It is quite alright, Clorinde.”

“I did say think of it as an apology. You could take it as a blessing — your muscles are practically bulging through the sleeves. ”

“I know right!’

She scoffs. “Now you’re just full of yourself."

Restraining a laugh, you raise two fingers in mock salute. “I’m a busy woman. Gotta take what I’ve got.”

‘I can see that. Now go get changed. You reek.”

“What an insensitive tone. You’re talking to a patient.”

She does not play victim to your antics. “Yeah, yeah, whatever makes you happy. Make it quick, we have to catch Sigewinne to discharge you before she’s off to work.”

You nod, swiftly pursuing the refreshing embrace of open air. Yet, a hiccup disrupts your stride as you think: must I meet the public eye once more? A silent prayer escapes, hoping Neuvillette remains oblivious to your absence. What merit would your presence bestow upon him, except added burden and responsibility? He, undoubtedly significant to you, occupies your thoughts and you do not waste a thought in thinking he deems your company delightful. You hope it stays that way.

“How does it look?” You do a little spin in your new outfit, painfully aware of how the fibres of the bandage that hug your abdomen clutch onto the inner fabric of the silk blouse that you find is a little tight around the underarm.

Clorinde looks up from her lap and her eyes round in surprise, and then into jest. “As painfully corporate as ever, madame.”

“You never fail to irritate me, don’t you?” You clutch the bag of clothes and hold it alongside the leather bag you had with you before the whole spectacle in the ring.

“Behold. Your hero’s here.” She points to a little figure skipping down the steps and she smiles at you, giving you a ‘you’re almost free!’ look.

Sigewinne skips to your side, silently lifting the fabric of your blouse and peeking through the bandage to examine the stitches. “A little swollen, but it is very much normal for an injury such as this. You are all set to be discharged!”

An infirmary admission in the Fortress of Meropide is unforeseen, yet its homely, cramped nature piques your fascination.

Wriothesley loiters around the exit and waves when he recognises a familiar raven haired girl beside you. When his eyes drop to your abdomen, a light smirk graces his lips. “Seems like Aurora has woken up from her century-old slumber. “

Clorinde shoots him a glare. A soundless argument plays from their eyes alone, and you are standing as stiff as a rod, grateful that you do not have to know whatever they are going on about. Falling victim to their brief glances you feel yourself shrink. A brief, whispered ‘what?’ elicits from the duelist’s lips and your head snaps to hers. From the slump of Wriothesley's shoulders, you assume the debate has reached its impasse.

“If you’re all going to argue about me, at least let me in on it.”

Wriothesley’s head cocks and he grins. “Hey, it’s nothing personal. Pains me to see you go, don’t get me wrong — but I’m afraid you’ve outstayed your welcome.”

"Oh, what a heartfelt farewell. I'll try not to let the door hit me on the way out," you quip, grabbing Clorinde by the forearm and waving the Duke goodbye.

“Wait.”

Clorinde is pulled backwards as you pause in your tracks.

The duelist’s arm slips free of yours, and she crosses her arms, briefly raising her brows, almost prompting him. “Forgetting something?”

“I’m making a break for the surface. So would you two like to have brunch? My treat.”

Clorinde is puzzled. “It is not everyday your schedule is so free. Are you sure you have time—”

You give her a chiding look and you smack her shoulder lightly. “We’d be very delighted.”

___

Wriothesley gulps down a tremendous mouthful of his tea. “What a hidden gem this place is…” He looks at the menu, his fingers skimming through the words in quest of the cafe's name.

“It’s Café Lutece,” you say, voice muffled with your mouth full of escargots. What a delicacy—you nearly roll your eyes at how good it is, savouring every nuance of flavour that dances on your palate, and your shoulders sag in indulgence. You almost ask for a second, but you abstain from doing so when you realise that it is not you paying.

“Yes. Café Lutece. I knew that.”

“Totally.”

“Manners.” Clorinde berates, subtly directing your attention to the people around with a pointed look, then back to the two of you. Suffering at its worst is falling victim to constant scrutiny. You steal a glance at the duelist and find that she has returned to enjoying her lasagna.

Wriothesley doesn’t seem to take the hint from Clorinde’s reprimand, and continues as normal. “That arena stunt with your sword, commendable stuff. Why haven’t you picked up something like that? You're a natural in the ring, minus that whole... hole.” He waves around his fork like a novice who has nothing to lose but his dignity that he doesn’t seem to possess much of either; and his eyes, seemingly moving of its own accord, casually dip to where you would see the gash if it hadn’t been for the bandage and the new blouse that Clorinde had purchased in lieu of an apology.

“So, I’ve heard you’ve only been recently promoted as the Présidence du Conseil d'État. How is it?” His voice drips with bon mot, but you cannot help but feel your heart beat louder against your ribcage. To put it simply, you do not know. To be thrown from role to role like a ragdoll rendered your own limbs to pomme puree, a struggling puppet fighting against brass strings; but you, too, aren’t able to chart a path for yourself in pursuit of success.

Swallowing whatever’s left on your plate, you wipe your mouth on the cloth that sits on your lap and sigh. Your face scrunches in distaste “Fame isn’t really my cup of tea.”

“Oh? And what do you mean by that?” Wriothesley questions, turning around only to be met with women fanning themselves and batting their eyelashes at him. “I get it.”

You bring your voice down to a defeated whisper. “Maybe if it weren’t for me getting married in a month, I wouldn’t be recognised everywhere I go.”

The Duke’s brows lift. “Am I hearing that right?” When he notices that Clorinde has dropped the conversation to finish her meal, a crease forms between his eyes. He prods her gently on the shoulder.

This doesn’t appear to bother her, because her body remains fluid and returns to normal: erect and inclined forward for a more liable distance between her and her food. Her eyes don’t leave her plate when she replies with a curt: “Hm?”

“She just said she was getting married.”

“I heard her.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

She finally looks up from her plate and stares plainly at you. “Congratulations. The man is truly an unlucky one.” The Duke laughs uneasily as you both take in her lack of interest.

At the met silence, Wriothesley crosses his arms. “I don’t understand why a hot shot like you would settle so early for marriage.”

You do not know if you should lie. Does the guise play out even for those you know? Should you tell him that you’re madly in love with the Chief Justice? No, you shouldn’t; for it is not the truth. But you should! You have to! a voice screams, trailing off into the void. You struggle with internal conflict, split between the need to sustain the masquerade and the desire to have the truth spill. The bandage, snug against your abdomen, is like an oppressive corset, confining not just your exterior but also every part of your being that is tied to a blasted contract. Your fingers reflexively seek solace in the shredding threads above your blouse, as if unravelling the fabric could soothe the conflicting thoughts that have become entwined within your mind. The echo of a distant voice encouraging disclosure reverberates.

You force a cold smile. “I am not giving up anything for my marriage, Your Grace. It is merely a testimony of human connection. I am well off by myself, yes, but would it hurt to have someone to give you a little push? For someone down in the fortress, you should know what it’s like to feel lonely.”

The Duke’s expression seems to sour at the resurfacing of the use of honorifics and he waves a hand in denial. “I didn't mean to come off as rude, madame. I am just puzzled at who exactly would be deserving of you as a wife? I mean — it can’t be the vendor selling macarons down the street, right?”

“The man I am to marry is Monsieur Neuvillette. Now if you would get me a glass of Fonta, it would be greatly appreciated.”

Unbeknownst to them, Neuvillette sits nearby, sipping on a cup of water as he discreetly eavesdrops on words that subtly bleed through conversation. His keen gaze carefully observes you from a distance, and with a thoughtful demeanour, places the cup onto its respective plate. Noticing the look of distress on your face and the familiar slump in the Duke’s shoulders, Neuvillette remains hidden. Clorinde and Wriothesley, engrossed in their discussion, remain oblivious, their backs turned to the subtle observer in their midst.

The man I am to marry is Monsieur Neuvillette. The phrase reverberates through his skull, each word echoing with a disconcerting resonance that sends a shiver down his spine. He doesn’t fail to miss how the words weigh like a burdensome anchor — how your expression, once lit with vivacity, falls.

The outfit you are clad in is something the Chief Justice had never seen you wear before; but he swats the idea away. Perhaps it is a trick of the mind, having not seen you in two days.

He is mildly cognizant of the ring and its box that is settled comfortably in his breast pocket.

Tonight.

Lady Furina's relentless insistence propelled the schedule forward, transforming what was originally intended as a week-long endeavour into an instant obligation for Neuvillette. The Chief Justice was, and is still less than amused. This unexpected directive threw his meticulously organised schedule into disarray, compelling him to undertake the daunting mission of 'proposing' to the so-called 'woman of his dreams,' a phrase coined by none other than the Hydro Archon herself. The sudden upheaval left Neuvillette grappling with the unexpected change of events and contemplating how to proceed.

He shields his face in a book, as if it would aid him in any capacity. A shame, really —he stands out like a sore thumb, unable to blend in among the normalcy of Fontainians. Anything he does in his power to remain hidden only has him hounded by the most desperate of women clawing at him like hawks for any opportunity to ‘bask in his presence’ (quoted by Lady Furina; this was another one of her drabbles, showing how she is ever so apt in her knowledge of theatre).

The Iudex catches onto how you shift the topic to your peculiar love for Fonta, and he finds that his nose scrunches in distaste. Fonta was never something he could grow to enjoy; it was too fizzy on the tongue, and Neuvillette certainly wasn’t one for such a sensation. But maybe if someone as hard to please as you could find a little soft spot for a drink, he could too. It has been a considerable amount of time since he’d been given an opportunity like this to not only sit alone at a cafe, but also converse with the people under no pretence or intention of banishing the guilty down in the depths of the ocean.

Neuvillette slightly raises his hand, eyes still flickering from the words of the notes he had pasted in the book to taking in how you had taken a looser bearing when his attention was diverted elsewhere. He casts a quick glance about, and a waiter appears at his side almost immediately. The priorities of humans are awfully disordered, he thinks, recalling how this particular waiter turned away an old guy after trying to ask him the same question for the nth time: "How can I help you?" What a pity that this individual was damned with weak hearing.

The same voice and intonation sounds from his right. “How can I help you?”

“I’d like a cup of Fonta please.”

Gloved hands move slowly to the glass table when he catches the slight quirk of your smile — and for the first time, realises that it is a genuine one. Your eyes squint, and you tilt your head to the side after the cup of Fonta leaves your lips. Raking your hands through your hair, the wind blows through the nape of your neck and teases at the necklace around your neck and he thinks this is the first time he’s ever seen you so content.

Neuvillette’s initial instinct is to leave you be and have you enjoy yourself for just a little while longer before the clutches of responsibility grip you tight again; but when the notion of fooling Lady Furina slyly makes its way to the forefront, he chastises himself. This is a sole, pragmatic responsibility. So why is he blurring the lines? It is a contract he must fulfil: an obligation of duty.

He recites what he must say under his breath: “Kneel on one knee. Say that I lo —” his eyes practically bulge out of his head and he stops short. Must he really say that he — loves you? The strained voice of Lady Furina echoes, imploring him to express his love for her with all of his conviction. He debates over the idea of checking it off the list, but then realises that the list shows no sign of diminishing in its fervency of declaration, and his cheeks flush pink.

Another point on the note proves even worse than the last. “Surely I must not kiss her?” he whispers, placing down the notepad. A deep breath, drawn with the intent to rewire his thoughts, is sharp and cold. Regret manifests into beads of cold sweat as he wonders of his own oversight of his incapability of taking a look at the notepad before leaving the Palais Mermonia. A realisation, as crystal clear as the reflections in Fontaine's still waters, dawns upon him: she, a virtuoso of subtle acts of cunning, reigns supreme in such wit. Of all residents within these refined walls of Fontaine, the Iudex, in his wisdom, should have recognised her devious nature well.

It is no wonder that Lady Furina had bestowed this encased in one of her light novels. “Do some reading!” she had said, leaving him with three words and a cryptic message he could not decipher; another trick up her sleeve, and still, he is all too unsuspecting.

In the era where Fontaine was a coalition of people under a new system, a figure he not only suspected but knew to be Focalors had granted him a seat with the best view in the grandest theatre; and little did he anticipate that he would eventually become a pawn on the very stage he had always observed from above in his own, undeniably mythical glory.

He does not notice that the fresh cup of Fonta is now cold.

But he does notice that the table where a group of three once sat is now vacant.

He reaches into his breast pocket and leaves a bag of mora that, to any normal person, would easily realise that such an amount could account for ten cups of liquid gold. But he, unlike the normal person, sees that the matter that is telling you of tonight's plans weighs heavier than the coins that cling against the glass table like cymbals. After having sat up and blowing his not-so-stealthy cover, he takes a pitiful look at the Fonta that shoots him a pleading stare. He shuts his eyes, and prudently wraps his fingers around the teacup, and takes a sip.

He prevents himself with his whole being to not lurch forward. It is not so terrible, he says: a silver lined lie. A smile forces itself through and he turns to the workers that stand at attention; all eyes on the Iudex of Fontaine. The tap of his boots echo loudly against the brick floors and he leaves as swiftly as the clouds intertwine in the midday sun.

Neuvillette takes a spin, and sees the three of you standing under the shade of the Chioriya Boutique. His eyes cling onto the way you weigh all of your weight against a pillar, armed wrapped around your torso. Judging by how the three of you rack with laughter, he assumes it is Wriothesley who has quipped and prompted the champion duelist and the head of civil affairs into giggles.

What is he doing?

Certainly this is a breach of the contract. Each party isn’t obliged to the whereabouts of the opposite party, unless consented to. You are going to think he followed you here; and that is something he does not want. To be in your good graces is a difficult thing, yet to forever dwell in your disfavour is a pit from which not even the sharpest nails can rescue anyone.

The group breaks apart, and you are left alone, head swerved in the direction of the duke and the duelist. What a formidable group of people, indeed.

“What nice weather today, madame.” The low-tone of a familiar voice brushes against your ear, and oh, who could it be?

You do not spare him a glance, leaning against the pillar for support. “Go on, enlighten me already.”

Though you do not see it, he is left fumbling with a note and how to phrase his next words. “Let us go on a walk, if you’ll allow me.”

You rely on the weight of your right heel to bring yourself to face him. Surveying him from head-to-toe, you notice something in him has changed; perhaps it is the freshly tailored coat he spoke of the night you returned his other one, or maybe it is a novel hairpiece. Whatever it is, he is different, more fleeting in his aura.

Sighing, you look down at your boots. “If it is so necessary, then I see no reason to decline.”

“Alright then.”

The next movements are oddly rehearsed, yet terribly timed. He offers you his left arm, to which you decline. “Is it possible to switch sides?”

“Oh — uh, sure.”

Neuvillette offers you his right arm — but realise to your dismay that it hovers a little too high for your liking, and you resort to slightly beckoning him to lower it with your own arm, which is now oddly interlocked with his. You take in a deep breath and feel his heartbeat quickening along with yours.

One foot in front of another, the two of you find a middle ground at what pace to walk. Three people on the sidewalk eye the two of you with judgmental eyes and you slightly tiptoe to whisper a few words into his ear: “People are watching.”

He then replies in a tone that isn’t too loud but enough for the surrounding people to hear. “Why is why, Mon Amour, an act is what is to satisfy the Hydro Archon.”

Tearing your eyes away from him, you ignore the confusion of emotion that stirs in your stomach, and you tell yourself it is your injury. Words seep through your slightly gritted teeth. “Don’t you think that’s a little excessive, Dear Chief Justice of Fontaine?”

Through your periphery, you see a smile. “Certainly bold words from the one who deemed it fit to bestow a kiss upon my ear on the very first day of our relationship, don’t you think?”

There is no time for you to take his words in because a person on a cart approaches at full speed, its wheels detaching one by one onto the road. The man whose arms are intertwined with yours forces you to the side of a cement wall, and his chest, an unwitting barricade between you and the unfolding drama, prompts you a very unpleasant view of the ruffles of his blouse. As the chaos settles, you force your gaze up and find that his eyes stay trained on the man that is now clutching his arm that lays limp in his own grip.

While bystanders attend to the injured man, your gaze lingers on Neuvillette's face, seeking revelations in the subtle nuances of the seemingly faint expression that paints his face. Your own stare is met with an intense, narrowing gaze when the Iudex turns and faces you, and you immediately feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath against the erratic beats of your heart. Embarrassing.

Clearing your throat, you push him and he stumbles slightly — but he doesn’t move as far as you wish him to. Through all that cloth, his muscles surely are toned! “What are you doing? Help him.”

Perhaps it is a trick of the light or the painfully scorching autumn sun, but his cheeks are flushed. “Not a worry, madame, stay right here.”

In the lack of his warmth you take in the sharpest breath and it cuts through your lungs like glass.

You place your hands on your knees and bend forward to catch your breath. A sting stretches like a miasma from your hip and you instinctively clutch at it like a vice; fuck, you’ve strained it.

Feeling even more eyes on you, you return as normal, plastering a faint smile and wishing everyone takes the hint to not raise any questions. Your left arm still remains pinching the perimeter of the gauze that now begins to feel like a tourniquet and you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut for a brief moment. Neuvillette is by your side almost instantly, taking in the slight perspiration that beads down your forehead; just a moment ago, your face was completely clear of such.

“Mon cherie, are you quite alright?” he questions, pausing a little. You whisper a: “tuck my hair behind my ears,” to him, and he shakily complies, his hands swiping across your skin like a ghost.

You place a hand to his chest. “Why, there is no need to be so concerned about me! I am no damsel in distress, dearest.”

He returns your stare with a nervous chuckle and extends his hand out this time, a less secure form of a physical display of affection, but still a statement nonetheless.

You do not wish to continue beating around the bush, but the grin that tugs at your lips remains. “Tell me what you wish to say.”

His stride slows, and you slightly pull him forward to fall into step again. “Well, to put it simply, I am to propose to you tonight.”

You do not know where to fuel your surprise so the smile on your face deepens. “Couldn’t you have told me earlier?” The grin compromises the expressions on your face, to which passersby aren’t able to discern that your lips are actually moving.

“You’ll have to question the Hydro Archon on this, I’m afraid. Though I am glad I did meet you here, to save both of us an inconvenience.”

“You take me for a fool, Chief Justice. Don’t think I didn’t see you dining where we were.”

You bask in the widened eyes of the man from beside you. There you had him; hook, line, and sinker. “That was merely a convenience — Lady Furina suggested I take a little stroll around Fontaine to prepare myself for tonight’s itinerary.”

You tilt your head in amusement. “Convincing enough. So… tonight; but where, exactly?”

“I was thinking of the very precinct of the Opera Epiclese, the very symbol of romance itself.”

Outright, you reject his suggestion. “I think it is an odd selection.”

“Why do you think so?” the grip he has on your hand loosens as he turns to look at you.

“People, especially Fontainians,” you start, “barely frequent Erinnyes, let alone at night.”

Perfect. Neuvillette had rehearsed the response to such a question at least ten times, and he’s convinced he has it down to a T. “Lady Furina has connections, dearest. All the main media outlets are stationed around the area as we speak. And, it is the premiere of the newest, most dramatic opera in all of Fontaine’s history — as quoted by Lady Furina, of course.”

“That woman is out of her mind.”

The Chief Justice thinks to not respond, and instead moves on.“But keep it in mind there is no intention of us attending the premiere; the whole scene must play out when everyone’s out of the Opera Epiclese. We shall rendezvous at the aquabus station at half past nine — when it is scheduled to conclude. Is that a convenient time for you?”

By this point, you are defeated. “Yep.” you deliberately pop the ‘p’, letting go of his hand to rid yourself of your lace gloves. “Hold these for me, would you?”

Neuvillette notices someone else using a camera peering through a bush, and he quickly spots the camera's lens glint. “Anything for you.”

ONE HOUR BEFORE THE PROPOSAL

Your bed is tousled and you don’t even know if you are to wear a dress to your own proposal. All sorts of skirts and tops lay haphazardly arranged on your comforter, the silhouette of a bundle of cloth peeking through the crevices of crumpled shirts. A possible outfit? Maybe. You pinch it with your thumb and index finger and hold it up as if it were a cat; no — this won’t do. You make another dash for your closet and begin throwing things over your shoulder until you finally reach the bottom of the lot.

A dress sits neatly folded, slightly dusty, but a dress nonetheless. Your mother’s dress. You sit on the wooden floors and peer down at the basket once more with morbid curiosity. Your mind is thrown into a debate of whether an occasion like this is appropriate to wear such an outfit. It is a quarter before nine and you’re sitting on the floor of your apartment, barefaced and practically naked. Muttering a silent apology to your mother, you take it gently and pat it to rid it of any specks of dust.

The dress is a pale turquoise, the ends of the skirt a tethered lace. But one thing stands. It is sleeveless. When exactly was the last time you wore a sleeveless dress? You slap yourself to stop asking questions. Why am I suddenly thinking? Cut it out!

Turning around, you shuffle to your bed. Picking up a corset, you inspect it briefly; is this necessary? No. You take a brief look at the clean replacement of gauze that winds tighter around your waist as a substitute, and shrug it away, tossing it to some corner of narnia and you wish it appears neatly placed on your bedside table when you return.

You find yourself in a comical struggle to slip into the snug velvet attire, hopping on the pads of your feet and contorting your arms into peculiar positions. Finally victorious, albeit with a hint of dishevelment, you stagger towards your vanity mirror. There, a box of makeup beckons, urging you to indulge in its array of colours. The temptation of a baby pink lipstick proves irresistible in the moment.

Brushing your face with foundation, you set it down with powder, and it puffs like a plume of smoke. No, not your hair! You hastily smooth it down, the fine dust reflecting in the moonlight. An eye pencil, an eyelash curler, and mascara line the outlines of your eyes, and you push your seat back to inspect anything that might appear peculiar.

You look bland.

Without looking down, you pat your table and reach for a random eyeshadow palette. An array of potted glittery blues and greens lay orderly arranged, and you do not know where to start. Maybe a light green to set the eyes? Whatever. You use the pad of your pinky to swipe the eyeshadow across your lid and you reach for a deeper, metallic blue that wipes closer to the waterline. You lean back again, examining the sheen. Don’t I look stunning! You can smell how the women are to reek of jealousy at your very appearance. Sure, its application is haphazard, but wasn’t that the in thing? Or perhaps you were to start a new trend, like how you did with your excruciatingly blue colour palette.

Regardless of the absurdity of it all, this is oddly entertaining. Damn the blasted contract; you want to look good.

Earrings next. A dilemma unfurls: pearl or diamond? Hoops or studs? Too many options, so little time. A bounty of options dance before you, and think of how they’d appear against your dress and makeup. You think the pearls complement the ones that are stitched along the hem of the bodice. Studs, on the other hand, while embodying a certain casual charm, seem a pinch too informal for the grandeur of the occasion.

You decide to go for pearly hoops, and almost jab your ear with it.

Something tips over in the act of putting in the earrings and your eyes shoot to your right. Vials. It had almost slipped your mind. How dangerous the act of leaving your own self for three days is; how could you forget? Mithridatism, it is called — the very process of ingesting poison to immunise oneself from its very risk. Ironic how protection it is to you, but death it was for your mother. You almost contemplate abandoning it and never turning back, but you’ve come so far; and an idiot you would be if you succumb to your cowardice.

Clicking the hoops closed, you take a vial. You pop it open and ignore the burn as it travels down your throat. Gods above, you never can ever get used to its bitter taste.

Grabbing a purse amongst five others, you slip into a pair of white heels, leaving your apartment in a hurry. Your heels click loudly against the pavement, and you rush towards the heart of the city, ignoring all the awed stares that you garner from the people.

“She is nigh unrecognisable!” a strained voice shouts, and the shutter of a camera follows suit. The rest of the trip is a blur and you find you cannot recall anything when your mind is cleared.

You rush to the elevator and jam the button with your fist. “Damnit.”

The doors open and you press the button for it to close, ignoring the dazed look of a couple that disappears as the doors shut in their faces. Muttering a quiet ‘sorry’, you lean against the wall of the elevator for support. You can do it. Just act.

A ding sounds and a friendly breeze greets you, the silhouette of the man you can recognise anywhere standing at ease, facing the waters.

“I’m here,” you say, voice reduced to a frail squeak; and you’re surprised that he even hears you. The metal of his boots scrape against the marble as he whirls around, the unreadable expression on his switching to a grin.

“Ah, madame,” he regards you with his head bowed, and seems to study your face for an uncomfortably long, few seconds. “Do not be so worried, the aquabus hasn’t arrived.”

You flat out decline the claim. “I am not worried, monsieur. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to take a seat.”

Before you can, he stops you with a bouquet of rainbow roses. “Here, I thought they’d complement greatly with your eyes.” What type of awkward, low-budget line delivery is this? Too short and too concise, Neuvillette notes, already hearing the nagging of Lady Furina in his ears.

“Oh, uhm. Thank you.” You almost rip the bouquet out of his hands with how clammy they are, and its added grip only adds to the flush of your cheeks — both to be blamed on your exertion and anxiety.

The swish of water sprinkles lightly against your arm, and you look up to be greeted by an aquabus with the cutest Melusine standing atop, hands on her hips. Not that you wanted to play favourites of course, every Melusine was adorable in ways they know best.

Offering his hand, you respond with your own, gloved hands against lace. Lifting your skirt, you struggle with the steps and you’re immediately brought back to two days ago, when the Duke and Champion Duelist were reduced to ushers, waging war against a staircase.

Neuvillette, ever the gentleman, snakes an arm around the small of your back to support you up onto the platform. What is this treatment? No one’s around, and no one’s certainly watching. It is just courtesy, you tell yourself, yes! Just courtesy.

The two of you sit shoulder to shoulder, and Aeval eyes you silently, smiling a little with her hands moving to clutch behind her back.

She begins her rehearsed monologue, but you’ve heard so much of it that you choose to drown it out with the howls of wind that cart through your hair. The chill, night air has the hair on your arms to stand upright, and any semblance of sweat disappears as quickly as a bead from your dress slips, tapping against the metal of the floor, and into the water.

Oops.

You bend forward to fix the velcro of your heel and sit upright, running your fingers through your hair.

“A ribbon on your dress is undone — allow me to tie it for you.”

What exactly was this man on about? There was no ribbon in your dress, nor anything that could accentuate your figure in any form.

“I don’t ever recall having a ribbon wound in my dress, monsieur — oh.” A long string of white rolls in the wind, and realise that he is, unfortunately, correct. You turn and see his brow raised, another part of the ribbon encased between his fingers.

“W—well… It was merely an oversight. I can do it myself, Monsieur Neuvillette, thank you very much.”

“But I insist. It would be a pity if such a momentous occasion be ruined because of an untied ribbon, would it not?”

No, an indignant fire ignites within, a visceral urge to unleash the words that dance on the tip of your tongue. You want to scream at him; tell him that he is a dolt at thinking that you would allow him to so intimately bind the knot at your waist. To say yes is to succumb, and would you reveal such a lack of decorum to the one person you do not want to have seen you so vulnerable.

“Fine,” is a word that is foreign on your lips, and you do not know why you have just contradicted every argument within you for an act. A furrow forms between your brows, and you bite your lip to restrain words you do not wish to say spill from your mouth.

You turn to your right, bringing your hair to one side of your shoulders to give him a better view of the knot he is to tie. Fingers brush against your spine, and you cannot help a stunt in your breathing as he continues, working his way down. A discomfort blooms within your gut like a blaze when he tightens at your hip, and you jolt. The bandage was clinched enough as is.

His warm breath teases your shoulder, an alien heat against the cold of the oceanic wind. “Is there anything wrong?”

“Could — could you just loosen it a little?”

“Alright.”

Slumping at the newly given space between you and the cloth, you turn around, placing the flowers on your lap.

Neuvillette gives you a side glance, and looks away. You do not know if he compensates for another. “You look gorgeous tonight, madame.”

“Save the compliments for when the people are around, Monsieur Neuvillette. Wouldn’t you hate it if poor Aeval were to get the wrong impression?” You eye him watchfully, relishing in how his face seems to tense like being pulled at the strings.

The ride to the Opera Epiclese falls silent after your comment.

Bright lights line the pathway to the Opera Epiclese, and you do not know how your eyes gleam in the reflection of the yellow that shines against your dress. Huh. Lady Furina’s judgement has failed once again; there aren’t many people loitering around the Fountain of Lucine, except that of a few people who are sitting with glasses of what seems to be champagne in their hands.

The man by your side bends down and you look over to see another Melusine, with her hands cupped over his ear, whispering something you cannot discern. This garners a nod from the Iudex, and he returns to his full height and gives you a wry smile.

He bears the weight of your hand in his, and places a chaste kiss on your knuckles. “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

Flowers drop loosely in your grip and your other arm is locked with Neuvillette’s, leaving little room for comfort; but you swallow it down if it means that Fontaine is spared and no one’s lives are taken. You mutter a prayer that Lady Furina is using everything in her power to revert what is lost; because prophecy be damned if the one sole figure meant to salvage it all crumbles.

Sacrifice lingers in your hands.

Almost as if conjured, a flower cut at its stem sits in between the Iudex’s fingers and you return his stare with an expectant one. “May I?” is the question that leaves his lips, and when you oblige, he places the flower snug against your ear.

You wonder what you look like right now. If only you could make a run for it, steal a glance at yourself through the reflection of the Fountain of Lucine and fix your hair.

An awkward weight lingers in the air when the idea of what is to come burdens everything you lay your eyes upon. Splatters of water cool your jitters and you spot a dog laying its head down on the elevated pavement; it barks at you and you suddenly lose all respect for that bundle of fur. “What disrespect!” you exclaim, and this earns a laugh from the Chief Justice.

“It is harmless, dearest.”

“I know, you fool. It’s its bark that scrapes my ears like a blasted rake — can you imagine hearing that all because you simply exist?”

This did not take much imagination for him. Four centuries and critique after critique presents themselves as a well-versed routine, the familiar tune of disapproving echoing — not as strangers — but an old friend.

“I feel for your distress, and I suggest you take a vacation, if it helps to clear your head.”

You flash him a tired grin. “If my work wasn’t so merciless, I would consider it in a heartbeat. But alas, we all want what we can’t have. Take everyone in this country, for example ─ they’re oh-so passionate in pursuit of grandeur, but have nothing to show for themselves.”

Neuvillette brings his lips to your ear so you can hear him better. “An astute observation indeed — it seems to you that you see their own strength as hubris. Which is why, mon coeur, Lady Furina has twisted the strings of the people; but, tell me, do you reckon they are to react as Lady Furina intends?”

“I think people react in ways they wish; there is no specific formula for the ways of humans, as sad as that may be.” your implication at knowing of Neuvillette’s inability to conform to the habits of people shoots through him like a lance, but he isn’t able to discern whether you had meant for your choice of wording to hit home.

A rumble has you lurching forward, but Neuvillette catches you by the arm. “Do you feel that?”

“It must be another leakage of the waters, but I do not sense that anything has taken effect.”

Applause and whistles seep through the doors of the Opera Epiclese, and both of your heads whip to the entrance.

“The rest of them are coming. Put on your best show— show them your unwavering facade.”

You look at him, and for the first time since your mother laid limp on the marble floors of your home, you feel pure, unadulterated fear. “What if they find out, murder me, and drag me senseless into the dirt? Would I be known as a heroine, or reduced to a measly coward?”

Neuvillette wraps both his hands around the base of your forearms. “Regardless of the outcome, I shall bear the burden. This concerns both of us, and I am resolved to ensure that nothing unforeseen shall jeopardise you.”

Nodding, you level your gaze with his, and steel your feet against the ground, almost as if you would tip over had you left yourself weak and vulnerable.

“Do not take my next words into consideration, it is merely fabrication.” He glances to his right, and the first group of people come pouring out, chattering in loud bursts of laughter and debate. Reaching into his breast pocket, his hand comes away with a velvet box and he finally begins the first line of his script.

You do not process his words, because your vision becomes blurry and the familiar taste of poison almost rises up like bile in the back of your throat and you want to faint. The flash of cameras blind your sight and you see the hushed, curious murmurs of everyone that begins to crowd around the two of you like vultures to fresh prey.

“You are my confidant, my love. I wish for us to remain like we are, hopeless and entwined,” he kneels on one knee and holds the box between his hands, and opens it, a sapphire glistening amidst the blue moon.” So, mon coeur, will you take me as your husband?”

You summon a smile, albeit with effort, and laugh. “Yes!” The crowd erupts into another wave of shouts as he stands, holding your hand as he pushes the ring onto your finger, smiling. Gloved hands snake around your waist as leans in for a kiss, but instead, he is met with his lips against the apple of your cheek.

He does not realise his delay in reacting until the fountain erupts in a fluorescent flurry of purples and pinks.

a/n: guys. their relationship is DEVELOPING DONT WE LOVE SOME DEVELOPMENT I KNOW YOU DO

taglist : @sek0ya, @souxiesun

#neuvillette fanfic #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette genshin #genshin impact #enemies to lovers #marriage of convenience #arranged marriage

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lovintasteslike · 1 year

Text

Stone Cold Under Your Feet

One where drunk actions have harsh consequences

Word count: 700+

a/n: now whyd this actually take me so long. the ending is so trash. also I just saw a pic of niall getting kfc with basil standing behind him idk why that's so funny to me. anyways send me requests plsss

You wake to a sharp ringing and a glow illuminating the room from your bedside table, interrupting your dream of...who knows what. You think it must have been a good one as your brain tries to grasp onto sleep again.

Your arm remains sprawled onto your right hand side of the bed, Niall's side, as your brain processes the noise coming from behind you.

Once the ringing subsided, your eyes start to droop, breathing slowing, until you perk up, finally realizing that Niall hasn't come home from his night out with the boys.

Thought finally enters your brain as you reach your hand back in the direction of your phone, mindlessly trying to find it in the dark of your bedroom. You brush your fingers along it, then grasp it, bringing it to your face. Your eyes squint to adjust to the light. As you click on the 'missed call' notification, Deo's caller id returns to the screen.

You slide your finger across the screen to accept the call.

"Hello," You speak first, your voice groggy.

"Ya gotta come down 'ere, y/n."

"Hm? Whaddya mean..."

"They're saying Niall broke his foot. We're at t'emergency room by Queen's Arms. Y'might wanna see this."

The remaining drowsiness quickly drains out of you as you hear the words, "emergency room," out of Niall's cousins mouth. You throw the comforter off your body and rush to find some clothing, grabbing the first thing in sight. His beloved Speak Up sweatshirt.

"The emergency room- wha- why hasn't Niall called me." In a scramble to start the Range Rover (which you hate driving because of it's enormous size), your phone falls beneath the seats.

"Ah mate, he's completely out of it a' t'moment"

"Like you're any better," you mumble under your breath. "I- just- I'm coming, okay? I'm ten minutes out. Don't do anything stupid, I'm begging you."

Before he could even take a breath to respond, you hastily grab your phone, ending the call to focus on the road in front.

...

The emergency room practically empty this late at night, or...early in the morning, whatever it may be, the doctor leads you to your boyfriend. He pulls the curtain back to reveal Niall laying on the bed, eyes shut and tugging his fingers through his hair. His leg is propped up at the foot of the bed where a nurse stands, wrapping his leg with cloth.

She looks back towards you.

"Are you the spouse?"

Niall's eyes shoot open, lifting his head just enough to be able to make eye contact with you. Your lips tug slightly at the sight of Niall's distressed position, but you hold back. You look back to the nurse, sarcastically sighing.

"Unfortunately so," you let out humorously.

The kind nurse smiles. "I'll excuse myself to give you two some privacy."

You nod at her, mouthing a thank you.

Niall sits there with his hands in his lap, one resting on his thigh. You look at him with a sympathetic glance before moving closer, taking a seat beside him. His head falls onto your shoulder and your hand subconsciously comes up to play with his hair, offering him whatever comfort you can give.

Niall, glossy eyed either from the pain or the pints, looks up at you.

"Did they tell y'what happened?"

"Had to pry it out of Capaldi, but yea..."

A beat of silence goes by before he starts again. "Why'd ya come 'ere?" You look down at him, raising your eyebrows. "You'll be tired when ya go t'work tomorrow."

You click your tongue and nod your head side to side, telling him no. "Your foot is one step away from dangling off and you're worried about my sleep."

"Ya wanna see it?" He asks, grabbing the X-ray papers from the side of the bed. "It's gnarly stuff."

He opens the folded paper and you grimace in disgust at the sight of ligaments torn and misaligned from his foot.

"'M not leaving you alone at home while you're like THAT"

"Yer gonna stay home for me?" The puppy dog eyes stared lovingly at your face. "Awww," he says, placing a hand over his heart. He squeezes you tight in a hug. "Love ya so much, petal."

You groan. "God, you're so insufferable," rolling your eyes, dramatically.

"Ya love me. Want to take care of me. Ya love when 'm a li'l stupid after a few pints."

You cross your arms over your chest.

"Keep at it and I'll whack you so hard, you'll stay stupid."

"Oop- yes ma'am"

You raise your eyebrows at him, a breath of laughter escaping both of your lungs as Niall's head falls onto your shoulder. Peace consuming the both of you, despite this ridiculous situation.

#niall horan #niall horan fic #the show #horan #niall horan blurb #niall horan one shot #niall horan fluff #niall horan x reader #niall horan x y/n

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pablitogavii · 1 year

Note

Can you do one where gavi is on tour and he is excused to leave dinner early and when he gets back to his hotel room his gf (whoever is reading) is there and it goes on from that (they had🤫) but you guys were too loud so when gavi got out pedri and his friends tease and and yeah. Sorry if this is very detailed😭

His Surprise

Since he spent so much time with you during summer, Pablo really got used to having you around all the time that his trip to US was quite hard.

"Amor, I will see you in less than two weeks.." you told him while you cuddled the last night together at home and he was acting like a true whining baby.

"Two weeks is a long time with no cuddles.." he whined and you giggled holding him closer and kissing the top of is head lovingly.

"You can always cuddle with Pedri amor??" you joke giggling while he kept whining nuzzling further into your neck and leaving a few open mouth kisses along the way.

"You're my big bebé, did you know??" you say and he shakes his head always acting like a 'big and strong man' but with you he could always be a goofy boy.

"I'm gonna miss you like crazy!!" he said looking up and you smiled nodding your head and leaning down to kiss his lips.

"Me too cariño..so go and win and come back home to me" you say and you both smiled agreeing on that plan before falling asleep.

While he was on the plane, he kept his phone glued to his face texting with you and occasionally checking gallery for your pictures that made him smile. Even the camera caught him smiling like an idiot to his phone while filming content for fcbarca account.

pablitoo: just came to the hotel room princesa

you: you should rest up cariño <3

pablitoo: i want to see you! ft??

That ended up you both falling asleep on the phone with each other and Pablo waking up grumpy not having anybody to hold before getting ready for the first morning training.

"Ay hermano, que pasa contigo?? You slept bad??" Ansu asked noticing the dark circles under Pablo's eyes but he didn't care as long as he gets to talk to you before bed.

"That's what happens when your girl is in the different time zone. Same is with me and Mikky especially now with the pregnancy..I'm always on the phone!" Frankie added and Pablo blushed a little when his friends were teasing him about being a simp.

He really didn't care what they said..yes, he was such a simp for you!

After another training in the evening, Pablo's stomach got very sensitive again and he really didn't feel like going to the welcome party.

"You gotta do it hermano, it's polite since they welcomed us and all" Pedri explained and Gavi knew that was right but he also knew that when he comes back you will already be fast asleep in Barcelona.

Damn the time zones! Why can't time be the same everywhere!

Pablo called you when he got ready wanting to at least to talk for a little while and show you his outfit since he was very proud of it. No answer. He tried again thinking you were in the bathroom or something. Again, no answer. Where were you?

pablitoo: amor, I'm going to the welcome party. pls call me when you see this <3 te amo!

The whole time he was there with the boys, he kept checking if you answered but there was nothing. Something was wrong. You never go to bed without sending him a text or better yet calling to tell him how much you miss his cuddles.

"Tranquí, hermano..she was with your hermana today. Maybe they went out?" Araujo said and that made me jump getting to an idea. I should call Aurora!

"H..hola?" her voice was groggy and I knew that I woke her up in the middle of the night.

"Rora! Sorry to call but.." before Pablo could finish the girl interrupted him quickly and angrily.

"Pablo, it's the middle of the night! This better be good cause I have classes tomorrow!" she said and Pablo rolled his eyes at hpw dramatic his sister is right now.

"I know Aurora! But Y/n's not answering her phone and I'm worried!" Pablo snapped walking out of the venue so that nobody can hear the talk he had with his sister.

"She's probably sleeping cabrón! You're worrying too much! We were having lunch today and she looked fine to me" Aurora said but Pablo wasn't convinced. Something wasn't right.

"She wouldn't go to bed without texting me Rora.." Pablo said feeling his breathing become heavy knowing that he is too far away to find out what's going on right this second.

"I'm going back to sleep Pablo!" Aurora hung up and Pablo sighed walking back to the venue where Xavi pulled him to the side.

"You should go back to the hotel chico" the man said and Pablo raised his eyebrows wondering what the hell was going on tonight with everybody.

"Why?" Pablo asked but the man just said it would be best if he finds out on his own so he left with the taxi avoiding the cameras and fans.

"Mr. Gavira?" the receptionist called and Pablo snapped really at the end of his patience.

"Sorry, but you have this left for you..." she said giving Pablo the letter he opened and now really freaked out.

"I saw that you like having fun with blondes around LA. I need to travel and clear my head. Please give me space. -Y/n"

"Mierda!" Pablo curse running to his room hoping to grab his computer and figure out what the hell you were talking about because he haven't even taken a picture with girl fans alone.

"Joder!" he had trouble opening the door when suddenly it opened form the inside you were standing right there with a mischievous smile on you face.

"A..a.mor?" he was in utter shock and you giggled nodding your head and jumping into his arms hugging him tightly and he held you back walking inside the room for some privacy.

"But..but..I got this..and you didn't reply all day..how are you here???" he was so lost and you loved it shutting him up with a kiss and grabbing that letter shredding it to pieces and tossing it to the trashcan.

"Blondes huh?" you smirked and he shook his head catching his breath before grabbing you and tossing you on the bed before hovering above you.

"You know I only like brunnetes princesa..or well my brunnete" he smirked kissing your lips and starting to devour your neck.

"P..Pablo" you moaned and he smirked taking off your clothes hastily like he was afraid if he doesn't that you will just suddenly disappear.

"Slow down amor.." you giggle at his sudden frustration kissing his lips lovingly and helping him take of his clothes.

"Mm I like the outfit cariño..." you smirk when it ended on the floor and he was already resting comfortably between your legs eager to get what he needed since he left home.

"I called you to show you before leaving but you didn't reply nena.." Pablo smirked looking up while kissing down your stomach.

"I was in the plane cariño.." you moaned when he finally started kissing the inside of your thighs getting closer where you desperately needed him.

You two were enjoying your "play time" completely clueless that players started returning form the party slowly and were passing by your hotel room.

"Ahh P..a..ablo" your moans were apparent and the boys smirked winking at each other while snickering.

"Cabrón is definitely having a better party here!" Pedri smirked and the rest chuckled as they each went to their separate rooms.

The next morning, you were exhausted and Pablo had an early morning meeting he went to with a bright smile on his face.

"Hola chicos!" he said sitting besides Ansu and Ferran who were smirking at each other.

"How are you Gavi??" Ferran asked and Pablo gave him a confused look.

"Better yet how is your girl after last night..you're a beast Gavira!" Pedri jumped in and everyone laughed while Pablo blushed bright red that they heard it.

"Um..she..she is sleeping..but I will bring her some breakfast when this ends" Pablo said feeling so shy at the moment but internally gloating with pride of course.

"Yeah you better and don't forget the flowers!" Rapha said and Pablo just nodded with red cheeks running to grab a ball and train on his own just to avoid more teasing.

you: read your note cariño. when will you be back? i miss you <3

pablitoo: just finished the training and bringing you some breakfast princesa <3

"Are we done until the evening míster??" Pablo asked Xavi

"Yes, we are but Pablo remember the rule I have day before the games?" Xavi smirked and now Pablo was very embarrassed that the man heard about it too.

"Mm yes sir" Pablo answered and Xavi tapped his shoulder.

"There is a nice Mediterranean restaurant you can take your girl today" Xavi winked and Pablo nodded his head taking the name before heading to the hotel.

He came back smirking when he saw that you were still in bed..very much naked. Sunlight was caressing your soft skin and you never looked more beautiful to Pablo.

"Here is some breakfast amor" he sat down the plate he ordered downstairs with some french toast, eggs, and lots of different kinds of fruit.

"This is so much Pablo.." you were in awe at how beautiful this looked taking a phone out and wanting to take a picture with him in it of course.

"Nothing is too much for you princesa.." he leans in and kisses your lips before you both start snacking on some fruits.

You went to walk around LA together for the rest of the day enjoying being together again. You found a secluded area on the nearby beach where you sat on the towel and cuddled up together.

"Do you know that they heard us amor??" Pablo said while you were eating some ice cream looking up at his slightly pink face.

"Who??" you said feeling your own face heat up..yeah, you were kinda loud last night but you couldn't help it form the way Pablo was making you feel.

"Um..most of them" he said and you hid your face into his neck in embarrassment.

"But it's fine. I really don't care. Now they know you're all mine" he smirked and you hit his shoulder telling him that you must be quiet form now on.

"Don't get any ideas tonight princesa..the game is tomorrow and you know Xavi's rule" he smirked and you rolled your eyes finishing the rest of your ice cream.

"We'll see who will start having those ideas first Gavira.." you passed him winking and he started chasing you on the beach and when he caught you and tossed you over his shoulder he said "thank you for coming amor! I can't want for you to see me play tomorrow"

He put you down and you snaked your arms around his neck going on your tip toes to kiss his lips lovingly.

"I'm so proud of you cariño..te amo" you said into his lips and he smiled.

"Yo te amo mucho princesa" he said grabbing your face and pulling you into another kiss.

#pablo gavi x you #fc barca #fc barcelona #fc barça #gavi #gavigif #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi #pablo gavi icons #pablo martín páez gavira #pablo gavira #gavira #pablogavixreaderfluff #pablogavixreadersmut #gavi x vini #gavi x yn #gavi x you #gavi x reader

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yeehawbvby · 8 months

Text

Falling Away With You | Ch. 48

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Y/n goes a little apeshit at JojaMart lmao

Author’s Note: *Crawls out of a pit covered in dirt and blood. Slaps this chapter down in front of you, on a SUNDAY no less!*

My health situation hasn’t improved whatsoever, but I will prevail, damnit!!

I wrote most of this and posted to ao3 early this morning, and haven't had a chance to proofread really. I'll do my best to get that done soon ^.^ Sorry if there are any weird wordings. Also sorry for the complete lack of Seb and Magnus in this one, I hope the shenanigans make up for it <3

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3!

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I hate that stupid, cryptic, blue note I got.

Ever since it came, I think about it every time I check the mailbox, without fail. I don’t want to, I kinda just want to forget it exists, but I just… I dunno. I have a bad feeling about it. A gut feeling. Like, something’s totally up with it. It’s just been sitting in my closet for safekeeping until I decide what to do, though.

For some reason, I’ve been too nervous to bring it back up to Magnus. He’s forgotten it exists, from what I can tell. I think I’ll do my best to keep it that way for now. It feels more like my burden to bear than his, and besides, he’s already got the whole region to take care of.

After today’s confirmation that I don’t have bills or anything important like that, I head inside to get ready to leave the farm. Reeeally hoping my routine will shake out my heebiejeebies.

I got the OK from Magnus to use his fancy shrine for Spirit’s Eve. Got an idea of what I think I want to make myself look like, too. Maybe a tiefling or something. If tieflings don’t really exist, I’m sure some sort of succubi, or imps, or some sort of creature that looks like one’s gotta, no? I suppose I could always fall back on just pretending I’m an elf… man, a tail and horns would be so fun though.

Either way, tomorrow is the big day and I am so ready for it.

I mean, like, almost ready. Whatever.

Today I’m going to Magnus’ place to get some practice in. Just a precautionary measure to try not to, like, blow myself up or something.

I’m gonna keep my outfit cozy and easy to move around in, but I have half a mind to make sure I wouldn’t mind losing these clothes in particular if something goes wrong with the transformation. Just some leggings, some crew-cut socks, an old hoodie, and my favorite boots, since I won’t have my shoes on in the shrine anyway. All of it is in black. Sebastian cosplay.

I’ll pop my red studs in too, gotta commit to the bit. I haven’t had time to talk to The Emo and see if he actually did get his shit pierced last night, but assuming he did, and assuming he was able to use these for it, I wanna go all out, baby.

Now, before I head to the tower, I’ve got some errands to run around town. I woke up a bit late so there’s gonna be more people out than I’m looking forward to, but hopefully I have no creepy Alex encounters or awkward conversations with Shane again.

I promised Sam I’d visit him at work sometime soon, so I might as well head there first. He hates it there, and it’s been a while since we’ve caught up, so I’ll hopefully be a welcome distraction. I’ll bring him a coffee too to keep his spirits high.

After it’s done brewing, I grab two foam cups and pour the coffee in. Knowing Sam, he probably needs this stuff sweet, and I’m in the mood for sweet too, so I pour in a bunch of vanilla-flavored creamer. To make the beverages ~gourmet,~ I add a little whipped cream to each, as well as a light drizzle of chocolate syrup. After securing the plastic lids and giving Cannoli some well-deserved love, I head out.

While I pass by the bus stop, I make eye contact with Pam. I’ve never spoken to her, but… I dunno. I can’t tell if I like her or not. She gives me a nasty stink eye and I can only further assume she’s as mean as she outwardly appears. Unless she was just cursed with an intense resting bitch face...

I smile Pam’s way anyway. She doesn’t smile back, but that’s okay. It doesn’t benefit anyone to be so judgemental of her.

I pass a few local moms once I make it to the town square. None really mind me, which could mean they either didn’t notice, or they don’t care. Either is fine by me. I don’t hear what they’re saying, but Caroline talks very animatedly just before the rest of the group bursts into laughter.

I turn my attention back ahead as I pass by Pierre’s and nearly bump into Marnie as she’s leaving the shop.

We both squeak out a little “Oh!” before apologizing in unison.

“I wasn’t really paying attention,” I double down.

“Oh, that’s fine. I rarely ever am!” She then motions to the two cups in my hands and adds, laughing, “At least the coffee’s safe!”

I awkwardly nod in agreement. Then, a brief flash of myself actually spilling coffee somewhere down the road raids my mind, my necklace tingling against my skin and my fingers practically buzzing.

Great.

“Everything alright, sweetie?”

That probably looked weird. “Yeah, sorry,” I try to recover, “just sleepy today!”

I take a sip of coffee to emphasize my point. Plus, I might as well drink what I can before these puppies go down. Hopefully I’ll be able to save at least one of them when the time comes.

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that!” She puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I need to get back to the shop, but take it easy and don’t overwork yourself, you hear?”

I nod, thanking her and waving her off with a shy grin before I continue moving. Once I get closer to the spot I’m supposed to be spilling these drinks — just before that little bridge over the river by JojaMart — I begin to walk more cautiously. If I can just keep these steady and focus on the ground…

A sneeze creeps up on me. Oh god. Oh god oh fuck oh no.

Just as I’m beginning to carefully place one of the cups on the side of the bridge for safe keeping, the sneeze forces its way out of me. Luckily, one beverage — the one I hadn’t drank from yet — stays safely in my hand. Unluckily, the one I was working on trying to keep safe fell to the stones at my feet, opening up and dispersing its contents fucking everywhere.

God damnit.

“Nice one.”

God fucking damnit.

I look up to the voice. It turns out Shane’s outside having a smoke. He’s at the opposite end of the bridge watching my clumsiness unfold with an aloof look about him. He’s bent over to lean on the stone wall, his right elbow propped up and his corresponding cheek in his palm. His left forearm is flat against the structure while his left hand lazily dangles his cigarette between two fingers.

Is that pink nail polish on one of them? I wonder if that’s Jas’ doing.

I merely groan back my response, picking up the now-empty cup to discard in the trash bin near the store. As I proceed on my walk of shame past Shane, I point out, “At least my clothes stayed safe.”

Shane follows and asks, “How many ants do you think you murdered with that accident?”

I grin a little at his dry humor. “Oh it was a massacre,” I bounce back. “The war in Gotoro pales in comparison.”

“Ha!” Oh my god, I made Shane — the grumpiest fuck I’ve ever met — laugh?! “Right on. Seems like pointless violence anyway.”

I turn to see if I can catch him smiling for the first time, like, ever. It’s not there anymore, but there’s a residual brightness in his features.

Shane snuffs out his cig on the ashtray built into the garbage’s lid, abandoning it there before shoving his hands in the pockets of his bright blue shorts.

“Those sons’a bitches,” he nods in the direction of my carnage, “they had it coming.”

My nose scrunches as I laugh a little, giving him a funny look. “Damn, what’d they do to you?”

There’s a playful glint in his eye, as he deadpans me. “Exist.”

I shrug and nod — I get it, they can be pretty annoying! — and follow the man as he makes his way through the white-rimmed, glass-centered automatic doors. I try not to cringe outwardly at how many self-righteous pro-Joja fliers are on them.

Shane stops a few steps into the store. Turns around. I stop too and look up, tilting my head. What’re you looking at, punk? I think to myself. Dunno if I’d be pushing my limits by trying to say it out loud. Better not.

Shane gives me a weird look too, but I can barely see it. My senses are taking their damn time getting used to the obnoxiously fluorescent lighting.

“Don’t you shop at Pierre’s?” Shane wonders out loud.

I blink a few times as I adjust to the environment and then nod. “Visiting Sam,” I explain.

“Ah.” He nods too, in understanding, and then looking the other way he continues, “Enjoy.”

Shane makes his way towards a door to the right of the manager’s office. Says “Employee’s only,” so I’m assuming it’s a break room or something. I don’t miss the incorrect apostrophe, but choose not to linger on it either.

“You too.” He looks back over his shoulder, so I pair my well wishes with a lazy salute.

“Buh.”

…Buh?

I smile. I think he’s warming up to me!

Feeling a tad lost now that I’m alone, I look around before making any advances. Should’ve asked Shane if he knew where Sam would be around now. I dunno how the shifts work around here.

The cashiers to my left — a visibly exhausted red headed woman, probably in her late 30s or early 40s; and a scrawny, scruffy looking teenager, with thick-framed glasses sitting atop his freckled nose — both look miserable.

The boy is boredly leaning against the counter, zoned out on the ground in front of it. The woman looks totally spaced out on nothing in particular. It almost seems like she’s fighting off sleep, too. Poor lady.

The woman and I lock onto each other. She looks away from my face before I can even register it, but I notice her eyes flicker longingly to the coffee cup in my hand a few times after the fact. I peer between her and the beverage twice before I all but scurry away into the aisles. I’m too awkward for this. My only option is to retreat. Never said I wasn’t a coward.

While I venture past the boatloads of boxed, bagged and canned foods in search of the resident dog boy, I observe some of the products. Some don’t look safe for consumption, while others seem like they’d be fun to try as a one-off sort of deal. It overlaps a few times as well. I mean, why wouldn’t I want to try this cereal which very explicitly states on the box that it’s more sugar than grains? It makes me stifle a giggle. I like the brutal honesty.

I stop and stare at it for a sec. Gnawing my lip. Wondering if I should just…

No. I shan’t.

I break away from temptation and trek on. As I reach the end of the aisle, I pan across the back of the store. More shelf-stable products, a small produce section… ah!

Sam looks like he’s supposed to be mopping the floor near the freezers. To be fair, he is holding a mop, and it is touching the floor! But instead of cleaning, he uses the tool as a microphone; singing against the end of the brown wooden handle, both hands passionately gripping it as he bends his torso to quietly belt one part in particular. Sam’s eyes are shut, his bulky black headphones are secured over his ears, and he has not a single worry in the world.

Holding his coffee in both hands now, I stop walking and lean against a nearby shelf. Observing. Waiting. Eventually he’ll have to see me.

He does a little spin move and carelessly bumps into the bucket of soapy water he’s working with, causing it to slosh around a little. Some of it lands on the floor, and some on the pants of Sam’s jumpsuit. Doesn’t faze him in the slightest.

He does another spin the opposite way and nearly knocks over the conveniently placed display of sprinkles that are situated right in front of the ice cream freezer.

I feel like I should probably stop him before something bad happens, but he looks so damn content and so stinkin’ cute that I can’t be assed.

Just as I’m thinking this, he opens his eyes, completely avoiding my direction while he immediately peers over his shoulder. Sam scans around, getting a full view of the proximate areas. It seems like he’s just making sure he’s not about to get caught by his boss or something, if I had to guess.

Eventually he lands on me. We both smile wide, and I triumphantly hold up his (unspilled!!) coffee in one hand, presenting it with a small flourish of the other and a bow of my head.

“For you, my good sir.” I make sure to sound extra fancy, dropping my voice an octave and annunciating my words a bit too much.

He looks around again before meeting me in the middle with a fist bump, completely ignoring my bit. Aw man.

“Hell yeah, thanks dude!”

I shoot some awkward finger guns at him, “You got it, bud.”

“You didn’t make yourself one?”

I sigh, lamenting, “I did…”

Sam scans my face as we share a short silence. Then, the lightbulb almost visibly goes off in his noggin. “You spilled it, didn’t you?”

Pursing my lips, I nod. “I spilled it, yeah.”

“Buuummer, dude.” He pats my head and I sigh, leaning into his touch. I’ll be damned if I don’t still love head-pats, even if it’s been a while since I’ve gotten one. “Wanna split this one then?” he offers, palm still on my crown. At this point he’s just trying to messy me up.

“No thanks, I’ll just grab another later if I’m really craving it.” Not having noticed the trance I’ve been in as my hair gets slowly and steadily ruined — it feels nice, okay? — I finally look up at him, cheekily glaring as I manually remove his large hand from me. I add on as I try to repair the frizzy aftermath, “Sick performance, by the way!”

“You think so?” he beams. Makes me laugh.

“Of course! It looked like you were having a lot of fun.”

Sam’s face is a bit flushed as he takes the compliment, not even trying to hide it; he has a big goofy grin on his face, too.

It drops and Sam looks behind him as a deep voice with a bit of a southern twang booms from one of the aisles nearby. “Samson?”

“Shit, here.”

Sam hurriedly places his coffee into my hand and rushes back near his water bucket, looking around for his manager as he moves. I try to make things less suspicious by pretending to look at some nearby end caps.

I take a peek over when I hear Sam greet the man, “Hiya! What’s up, Morris?”

Crossing his arms and puffing out his chest to try and make himself look mighty, a man in a navy blue suit, a bright red bow tie, and a poorly-applied black toupee corrects him. “That’s Mr. Saxton, son.”

I roll my eyes. Awesome to know the guy running this Joja is just as insufferable as the dudes who work on the corporate side.

Sam puts an anxious hand on the back of his neck, and halfheartedly smiles as he apologizes, his speaking patterns much more formal than before. Poor guy… it hurts to see him having to tone it down so much for this dipshit.

I turn my attention back in front of me so as to give him some privacy. Not sure he’d want me to hear him getting his ear talked off.

This display is full of holiday cards... I might as well waste some time with these bad boys. I pick up one with a cartoon beagle wearing a birthday hat on it, stealing a sip of Sam’s coffee as I read the pun on the front: “Have a doggone good birthday!” Alright, nice and cheesy start…

I flip the card open. It starts blaring Baha Men’s “Who Let The Dogs Out.” Fucking hell. Jumpscare me, why doncha! I shudder at how tinny the music sounds — likely made worse by its volume — then close the card and place it back in its spot, not bothering to read more.

“Excuse me, miss?”

I peer over my left shoulder, and see that Mr. Saxton is making his way towards me. A vein is popping in his forehead, but he has a toothy smile on his face that screams customer service. Not sure what’s going on and feeling a little anxious about the situation, I don’t answer with words — I just turn my body to him and watch him expectantly.

My eyes flicker to Sam real quick, who’s closer to the opposite end of the freezers now. He’s looking over here though, and when his eyes catch mine, he mouths “Go!” and motions his arm towards the front end of the store. Maybe he got caught socializing or something… wouldn’t doubt that there’s probably heavy surveillance in here. Man.

I look back at Sam’s boss as he says, “I’m going to need you to discard your beverage.”

My brows furrow and I tilt my head. “Why?”

Ah, he’s the asking-questions-is-talking-back type: He huffs a deep breath and tilts his head as if to mimic me, clasping his fingers together in front of his ribs. The smile and vein are both still on his face.

“It is not only unacceptable to bring your own food into a grocery store,” he strains, “but I cannot have you spilling your drink all over our products.”

…I haven’t spilled anything. What does he think I am, some crusty little kid?

Damn, this is bringing out a rage that I haven’t experienced since working behind a Joja desk. I didn’t know I was even capable of it anymore. Must be something about the overstimulatingly bright blues, or the blindingly white strips of lights. Same ones we had above each cubicle in the office.

My anxiety is rapidly replaced with a petty yearn to cause a ruckus as I realize that I don’t work for Joja anymore. I never have to even come here again, actually.

I don’t answer to this fucko! I don’t answer to anyone!

Screw this guy!

Feeling courageous, I put on my own customer service mask as I inquire, “Do you want me to spill this on your products?”

“E-excuse me?!”

I hover the cup near the cards, tilting it a little. Doing a little eyebrow wiggle too for good measure. “It feels like you dooo.”

“I— w-what are you doing?”

Seb would be so proud if he were here. Not sure how Magnus would react, but I’d like to imagine he’d support me too.

Completely on impulse, I bring the cup in front of me and splash a little coffee in the man’s direction instead of the cards’. The now-lukewarm liquid splatters onto the white button-down beneath his jacket and rapidly seeps into the fabric, leaving a light brown, unsightly splotch.

Sick, got him where it hurts and none got on the floor! Less work for Sam!

Making sure my voice is just as cheery as Morris was trying to keep his, I cap this off, “Stop treating your employees like crap and stop treating complete strangers like children, asshole.”

This feels so good. My heart is racing and my pits feel a little moist and I might just end up an anxious mess the second I walk away, but I’ll be damned if this isn’t cool as fuck in the moment. When Leah asked me last week if Magnus ever wanted to go apeshit, it didn’t even occur to me how badly I wanted to go apeshit.

I walk down the nearest aisle as Morris continues sputtering something about me leaving, paying for this, whatever.

Shane’s kneeled down in the middle of the aisle stocking shelves. He faces me for a moment and grins slyly. “That was cool as hell.” Why does this feel so validating? “A woman after my own heart.”

HUH?

I blink that fucking flashbang away — seriously, the last time I saw him he was still being a dick, and today he’s treating every interaction like we’re fully acquainted, if not more, what the heck — as he turns away to scan items onto the shelf again.

“I really didn’t do much…” I really didn’t. Just kinda caused a minor inconvenience for the guy.

My hands are shaking though, so it must be catching up to me.

“That still took some balls.” He glimpses at me briefly and adds, “Y’look like you might cry, though. Get outta here before I change my mind about you.”

I huff out a quiet laugh and steady Sam’s — well, my, now — coffee in both hands. “On it, boss.”

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bbymunsonx · 3 months

Text

The Last Time (Ted’s Version)

Chapter Seven

chapter warnings: language

word count: 1.9k

Roy Kent: Keeley is in my bed.

Lacy Watson: I'm coming over.

Roy Kent disliked "I'm coming over"

***

Roy's text woke up me from a deep sleep, and I groaned as the memories from last night began to come back to me. How I tried to kiss Ted and how he pulled away. What I did to be able to get to sleep and what I heard him doing.

Thankfully it's a Sunday and we don't have work today. I quickly got washed and dressed before running downstairs to go to Roy's house.

As I opened the front door of my flat, Ted was coming out of his flat at the same time.

"Oh! Good morning!" Ted exclaimed, a bit startled.

"Good morning, Ted." I said softly with my head down.

"What are you doing today?" He questioned. Now is the perfect time to be messy.

"Um, I'm actually going to Roy's house for breakfast." I smirked, trying to make Ted jealous. His body language immediately changed, showing that my plan is working.

"Well, you have fun then." He tried to fake a smile. I just nodded and headed out the door.

Roy's house is about a ten minute walk from my flat, so it didn't take me long to get there. I figured since he was still in bed, I would just try the door to see if it was unlocked, which it was. "Roy! Keeley!" I yelled when I got in.

I headed upstairs and knocked on what I would assume is the master bedroom, "Is everyone descent?" I covered my eyes as I opened the door. Roy and Keeley were laying in bed, sheets covering them, shocked that I was standing in the doorway.

"You know, when I disliked your message, that was my way of telling you not to come over." Roy groaned.

"Oh, hush up. What's wrong, babe?" Keeley tapped on the bed, motioning me to lay down. I bellyflopped right between the two of them, pressing my face into the bed as I groaned.

"I tried to kiss Ted last night." I moaned.

"You what?" Keeley jumped up, still covering the upper half of her body with the sheet.

"Bloody hell," Roy groaned.

"I tried to kiss him and he pulled away." My face was still pressed into the bed, muffling the sound of my voice.

"Oh, babe." Keeley rubbed my back.

"It gets worse," I lifted my head a bit.

"What did you do?" Roy raised his eyebrow.

"I couldn't sleep last night, so I... ya know." I looked at Keeley and she nodded back at me, completely understanding what I was saying. "So when I finished, I went to go to the bathroom, when I heard Ted also... ya know."

"He WHAT?" Keeley jumped up again.

I covered my face again so they wouldn't be able to tell that I was blushing, "I heard the bed creaking and moaning. Loud moaning."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Roy groaned, "Obviously he was having a wank because you looked fit last night. Ted's a good man. He's not gonna kiss you when he's still married, but he's still a man. Men have needs."

"I ran into him when I left this morning and it was just so, strange." I looked up again.

"Babe, you gotta tell him how you feel. Tomorrow. Take the day to get your shit together but then tomorrow, you tell him." Keeley kept rubbing my back.

"Okay, yeah. I think I can do that." I nodded. "Also, nice job with this one." I jabbed Keeley playfully in the ribs while motioning to a naked Roy Kent. She smiled back at me.

"As much as I'd love you to stay with us, Watson, please get the fuck out." Roy pleaded.

"Thanks for listening, Royo," I got up and messed up his hair before leaving.

"Fucking hell," he groaned as I shut the door. At least one of us is getting some.

***

The next day, I'm sitting in my office scrolling through socials, but not really paying attention to my work. I was just trying to waste time so I could muster up the courage to talk to Ted. I haven't even seen him since I ran into him yesterday morning. This morning I left early so I wouldn't see him and just sat in my office with the door shut.

Lacy Watson: Where are you? I need to talk to you real quick.

Ted Lasso: I'm on the pitch. Come on out!

I took a deep breath and gathered myself before heading out onto the pitch. Just seeing Ted standing there next to Coach Beard was enough to make my heart stop beating.

"Hey, Teddy," I smiled.

"Lacy Loo, how ya doin'?" He smiled back. Godddamn him.

"Can we talk for a second?" I said nervously. Something behind me must've caught Ted's attention, as he stopped looking at me and was just staring behind me.

"Actually, just give me one second, I'll be right back. Coach, practice is cancelled" Ted quickly said to Beard and I before running off. I looked behind me and saw a woman with a little boy standing on the far end of the pitch.

"Who's that?" I looked over at Beard.

"That's Michelle and Henry. His wife and son," He looked over at me with a sad look on his face. "You alright?"

"I'm okay. I'm more than okay. I'm wonderful," I fake smiled. But I quickly ran off the pitch before anyone could see me cry.

Keeley Jones: How'd it go babe?

Lacy Watson: His wife and son came so not so good.

Keeley Jones: Fuck. I'm sorry, babe.

I was sitting at my desk before a knock rapped my door, revealing Ted with his wife and son.

"Lacy, I'd like to introduce you to my wife, Michelle and my son, Henry. Guys, this is Lacy." Ted introduced us.

"Hi, Michelle. I've heard so much about you. It's such a pleasure to meet you," I shook her hand. "Hiya, little man. How's it going?" I went up to Henry and fist bumped him, trying to be cool.

"We're gonna head out for the day and have some family time. Did you wanna talk real quick?" Ted questioned. He really thinks I'm going to want to talk to him in front of his wife?

"No, Ted. Have fun with your family." I smiled sadly, to which he just nodded and left. As soon as he left, I held my head in my hands, trying my hardest not to cry.

***

A few days have passed since Michelle and Henry got here and Ted's been extremely distant. He's probably said a total of ten words to me the entire week. Beard kept having to tell me not to take it personally, but I can't really help it.

Ever since our talk outside of the Gala, Rebecca has been extremely nice to me. She even invited me to watch the game today in her VIP box. I've never seen any of the games, I usually just sit in my office and moderate what other people are saying online.

As I entered the box, I was greeted by Rebecca, Keeley and Higgins. Of course, sitting next to them was Michelle and Henry.

"Babe! You made it," Keeley jumped up and hugged me.

"Of course! I wouldn't miss it." I hugged her back.

The only empty seat left was in between Keeley and Michelle, so I took a breath and sat down.

"Hi, Michelle," I looked over at her and smiled.

"Hi! Lacy, right?" She looked over at me. This bitch.

"Yeah, that's right." My eyes narrowed.

"Hi Lacy!" Henry looked over at me. How did this little boy remember my name but she didn't.

"Hey, little man! You excited to see your dad out there?" I asked him. He beamed with excitement.

"I'm more excited to see Jamie Tartt." He responded, to which I laughed.

"Yeah, yeah that's fair." I laughed.

The group of us just engaged in small talk and before we knew it, the game had started. As always, Jamie had been acting like a prick. Every time he had been passed the ball, he refused to pass it back to anyone else. He would just take the goals for himself. The commentators kept saying that AFC Richmond would be nothing without Jamie Tartt, and I could tell that this was hurting the other players.

Right before half time, Ted called for a time out, making all of us raise our eyebrows in question. Ted climbed up the stands and started running towards the VIP box. Lifting himself on the ledge, he called out, "Hey, boss."

"Um. Hi, Ted." Rebecca responded.

"I'm gonna bench Jamie for the second half of the game. I wanted to double check with you."

"This is your team, Ted. Do what you must," Rebecca said.

"Good job, dad!" Henry yelled to Ted and Michelle chanted next to him.

"Thanks guys," Ted smiled at his family. "Good to finally see you up here, Lacy," he smiled at me.

"Good to finally be up here," I smiled back. Ted lowered himself down and ran back onto the pitch and announced he would be benching Jamie. Fans in the stands went ballistic, not believing in him and his decision. Keeley and I were the only ones in our section who chanted for Ted.

Even after Ted's decision, the team won the match. The players were overly ecstatic, except Jamie of course.

We all ran onto the pitch to celebrate. All the players were chanting and screaming. I ran up to Ted and went to hug him, but seeing as Michelle was standing right there, I opted for a handshake. "Congrats on the win, Coach."

"Thanks, Lacy." He smiled at me, before Henry ran up to his dad and hugged him. Ted lifted him up onto his shoulders as Michelle stood next to them, hugging. Feeling uncomfortable being around them, I walked over to Coach Beard and gave him a celebratory hug.

"We shouldn't hug for too long. Jane will freak out." Beard told me.

"Oh shit, sorry." I pulled away.

"You doing okay?" He questioned.

"Look at them. They look happy. I can't jeopardize that." I said while we both looked over that them.

Beard just rubbed my back for a second before walking away to see Jane. All I heard was him say, "It wasn't like that!" to her before I walked away to go to my flat, leaving them to all celebrate without me.

After sitting on my couch for a half hour, a knock rapped against my door. I huffed before lifting myself off the couch to see who was at my door.

Roy and Keeley stood there with two bottles of wine. "We're coming in so no wanking for you, tonight." Roy said before walking right past me and walking into my flat.

"You deserve to celebrate tonight too, babe." Keeley smiled at me before coming in.

The three of us drank and celebrated for an hour. At this point, the three of us were properly drunk. We were just talking and having a good time when my phone buzzed. As I read the message, my mouth dropped. I immediately showed my phone to Keeley and Roy.

Coach Beard: He's getting a divorce.

authors note: god I love ted and lacy so much but there's just something about the brother/sister dynamic between roy and lacy that's just so personal to me <3

taglist: @nerdgirljen

#jason sudeikis #rebecca welton #ted lasso #ted lasso x reader #apple tv #jamie tartt #leslie higgins #roy kent #sam obisanya #ted lasso x oc

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