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seventeenpins · 7 months

Text

a slight miscalculation - pt. i

pairing: Joel x F!Reader

word count: 8.3k

summary: Sarah is off to college, and Joel is about to be living in an empty nest. They road trip out together, and as she spends her first night in her new apartment, he's staying in a nearby hotel. Letting go of his inhibitions for the first time in a long time, he tumbles into a one night stand that becomes very complicated, very quickly.

content/warnings: smut, age gap, mycologist!reader, dick sucking, implied pussy eating, fingering, no outbreak au, reader likes to hike, reader also infodumps, joel miller has a big cock, he also has anxiety, reader has anxiety too, and a cat, reader is in early 20s--exact age not established, one (1) use of daddy, alcohol and weed consumption, joel is a diligent condom wearer, set in present day, discussion of girl scout cookies, joel is sweet and soft and hasn't been eviscerated by the death of his daughter

a/n: I'm intending this to be about five parts. This may change, but right now it's looking like five. I've been struggling to write for a while, unable to focus, but I think I'm back at it? as always, your feedback is hugely appreciated, and i'm kissing all likers and commenters and rebloggers deeply and with tongue 🩷

check out pt. ii

For the first time in nineteen years, Joel is completely adrift. Sarah's starting college in just two months.

It's the kind of realization that hits him like a bucket of ice water, a sudden shock and then an unpleasant trickling of anxiety wrapping about him in nasty tendrils. And then he feels guilty, because he's so, so happy for Sarah because he knows that she's thrilled, but fuck she's gonna be two time zones away and now what's Joel meant to do on Thursday movie nights when he's here without her?

It's terrifying, and it's new. And it's not that he's new to anxiety. He's usually anxious, and he has the Sertraline on his bedside stand to prove it. But if his general anxiety baseline usually hovered around a 6.4, where he was at now far surpassed a 10. It felt exponential, and totally exhausting.

When he voices his fears to Tommy, to Joel's horror, Tommy just doubles over in laughter.

"Jesus, Joel," he wheezes, wiping fake tears from his eyes in exaggerated movements, "You looked so serious I thought you were gonna say you'd killed someone."

Joel scowls. "The fuck you laughing for?"

"She's going to college, it's not like she's dying!"

"How'm I gonna be there for her? What if she needs me? What if-"

"Joel-," Tommy pats him gently on the shoulder, "She can always call you, and you can always call her. And we both know she's got a good head on 'er shoulders."

Joel snorts in concession. "Yeah, yeah. Better than yours and mine put together, and then some."

"Exactly." Tommy agrees, "And if there's ever anything that really goes wrong, you got me. We can drive out together and make sure she's okay."

Joel nods and feels the tiniest bit of tension leave him. One step at a time.

Just over nineteen years ago he found out he was about to be a dad. Suddenly, he had a purpose. Having a kid at twenty-two wasn't something he'd ever intended, but somehow he knew he loved his baby girl from the moment he knew she was a possibility. He spent a solid seven months running around, hustling, doing everything he could to get the very best for his kid. He'd take on doubles, working himself to the bone to make sure they had the best crib, and the best stroller, too. He was thrilled and terrified and so, so green.

Now, his heart feels so big he doesn't know how to handle it. His baby girl is an honest-to-god adult, moving out and going to college, and he has no idea what he's gonna do with his time now.

He has work, of course. But beyond that? He's really gotta to widen his circle, he realises, because who's he gonna hang out with? His brother?

He'd only just turned forty-one and had absolutely not come to terms with an empty nest--the few friends from high school he'd kept in touch with were so much further behind than him. The ones that had kids had them later in their twenties and thirties, and now they're raising middle schoolers while Joel's kid is a real fucking person, leaving home and everything. All the scrapping and saving he'd been doing since before Sarah was born–for his little girl to be able to follow any dream she chose–it was finally paying off. The precocious young woman she is, she graduated early and spent nearly a year working retail to save up some cash. She'd applied to colleges all across the country, and a few international ones, too. Joel had been crossing his fingers for months, hoping she'd choose something near Austin, but cheered with her all the same when she got her acceptance letter from Oregon State University. The previous summer, just before she'd started her applications, she and Joel and Tommy spent a miserable, wonderful week hiking round the Pacific Northwest. She fell in love with it, and the university offered a few of the majors she wanted to consider.

Joel didn't know what he'd do with his baby girl so far away, his life, his reason, but he sure as hell wasn't gonna tell her that. He will not clip her wings. His baby's gonna change the world and he's not gonna hold her back. He is, though, gonna require regular phone calls and check-ins and god they grow up so fast.

"Y'all should road trip out there," Tommy suggests one night over the dinner table.

Joel knew the conversation of how Sarah would get to the West Coast would come up, and it oughta be sooner rather than later. He was half afraid that she wanted to head out on her own, that she didn't need her dad anymore. Worried she would say she wanted to get a plane ticket, or take the Amtrak all the way to Corvallis. But he knows he needs to loosen his grip a little, so he braces himself when he turns to her.

"What'dya think, Sarah? You wanna be stuck in a car with your old man for a cross-country trip?"

Sarah rolls her eyes, but her face breaks into a grin. "Can we, Dad?"

This was too good to be true, he knew, but he wasn't gonna give up one last opportunity to spend some time with his girl till winter break.

"Course, baby," he tells her, and that flicker of anxiety quells just the tiniest bit.

The next few weeks fly by, and the knot of anxiety in Joel's chest feels like it's consuming him from the inside out. He's taken some time off, more than Sarah or Tommy can remember, but he's constantly trying to suggest ideas for activities to Sarah. For the most part, she's a good sport, understanding how much it means to her dad. She took pity on him, and let him drag her to places that ideally she would've gone to when she was little, but she humored him and he appreciated her dedication. He did his best to step back when she was heading out to spend time with friends--her time here was limited, after all, and she was always a social butterfly.

There are five weeks till classes start, four weeks, three, two, and in the blink of an eye, they're loading up the truck with all of Sarah's things, and Tommy is hugging Sarah goodbye, teary eyed. He gives Joel a hug, too. Joel would never admit it, but fuck he had really needed that hug.

They would take the scenic route. Make a memorable trip of it. Joel would make sure she settles in safe and sound, and then he'd head home.

6am Sunday.

You wake with a start. It's just over a week before term starts and your entire body aches. Fuck, you think to yourself, definitely overdid it with that last hike.

(The hiking part wasn't itself a problem, but one of the trails had washed out. You thought you'd found your way, but the "easy" three and a half mile hike took about five hours, leaving your calves bruised and your heels blistered.)

You roll over in your hotel room bed and, at the sound of a slight yelp followed by a gentle thud, realise with a sudden start that you just catapulted your cat off the corner.

"Shit, sorry goblin," you tell Spatula, who glares up at you with disdain as he licks at his paw. You reach down and, despite your inadvertent cat launch, he immediately rubs up against your fingertips and lets you scratch behind his ears.

"I'm sorry, baby," you soothe.

He meows, loudly. Howls, really. You take it as an apology accepted.

You sit up properly and look at your phone calendar. Nothing immediate. You don't need to get keys to your new apartment till tomorrow, nor do you meet your roommates till then–they're both moving in today, and moving is already horrible without having to navigate around the belongings of two other people. No, thanks. You can afford one more night at the hotel, and it'll make everything go that little bit more smoothly tomorrow. Besides, you have a bit of reading you'd like to get through, maybe stock up on non-perishables till you have a full-sized fridge, and get to know the city just a little.

You move gingerly, testing the ache in your muscles as you unfold yourself from the position you've been sat in and pull yourself from the bed. It hurts, but not something that won't be fixed with a little movement.

A plan forms. First, a walk, to try and loosen up your tight muscles. Then, errands. You have a whole list, with everything categorised by store, but then you enter IKEA and exit fifteen minutes later, only to find that five and a half hours have passed and it's evening now.

How was it that IKEA harnessed such a malicious power. How could anything harness that?

You need a fucking break. And a goddamn drink.

"Hey Dad," Sarah calls from the adjacent bedroom as Joel sweats, hauling another box towards her. The drive has been good, but it has been long. His legs ache. His back aches. There are parts of him that he didn't know existed that now ache.

"Yeah?" he calls back.

"Are you sure you're okay with me staying here tonight?"

Joel lets out a breath. He wants to be okay with it. And there's no way his nineteen year old would want to hang out with her dad when she could be spending the very first night in her brand new apartment. But he also wishes she wanted to spend one last night, hanging out in a hotel room with her dad. They could watch shitty movies together. Make the most of the final night before this cataclysmic shift.

But no.

That'd just be him being selfish. He can handle a night by himself. He's gotta handle a whole lotta them soon enough.

"O'course baby," he nods, hoping the smile he's plastered on his face looks totally genuine. "But we're still doin' breakfast in the morning, right?"

She nods, vigorous, and then waves her phone around. "I was looking up places! There's a diner called Tommy's," she laughs, "Wanna try that? 9:30?"

"Let's do it," he smiles, and this one is a little less forced.

"How much more do we have?" Sarah asks, nodding towards the box Joel's still holding.

"Last box," he grunts, "What else can I help with?"

He places the box down and lets out a slight, almost silent whimper. Sarah catches it, though.

"Maybe you should take it easy the rest of the day, Dad," she tells him, "We both know you have old man back."

He rolls his eyes but nods. "Guess you're right," he shrugs, "That my cue to take off?"

Sarah blushes but turns to him sheepishly. "Yeah, I-"

"No need to explain," Joel assures, "I know you must wanna get unpacked and settle in, get to know your roommates an' all."

She jumps up and, almost startling him, wraps her arms around him in a bear hug.

"Love you, dad," she grins, and she squeezes just a little tighter than usual.

He squeezes back, and they both pretend there aren't tears in his eyes.

As you step through the doors of the hotel bar, you decide you like it. The lighting is comfortably low. It's not loud, but it's not quiet, either. Colorful bottles line the shelves, the light of the filament bulbs glinting off the glass in rainbow prisms.

You take a seat at the bar and give a nod of thanks as the bartender passes you a small menu. It's unsurprisingly extortionate, hotel bar and all, but it'll do.

"Old fashioned, please," you tell the bartender, who nods in response. A minute later, he hands you a glass, delivered with a twist of orange and a cherry on top.

With your first sip, you feel your shoulders start to relax and some of the tension loosen from your body. The warmth of the burn envelops you and your stress starts to unravel, leaving only the buzz feeling good.

You order a second, and as the glass is handed to you, a voice to your right catches your attention.

"This seat taken?" a man asks.

You shake your head and offer a quick smile, gesturing towards it, "All yours."

"Much obliged," he nods, and slips into the backless stool next to yours.

The bartender comes over and passes him the same menu, but without looking at it he asks, "Could I get an old fashioned?"

You smile and catch his eye, tipping your glass towards him. "An excellent choice," you praise, "Though if you don't have a sweet tooth, I'd recommend asking Jeff there if he can go easy on the simple syrup."

"Oh yeah?" He asks, and then he leans in conspiratorially. "T'tell you the truth, I do have a bit of a sweet tooth."

You raise an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Suddenly, he breaks into a grin and it's dazzling.

"Yeah," he laughs, "I've got cookies stashed in secret locations all through my house."

You raise an eyebrow. "If I keep 'em in my pantry, my brother'll find 'em and eat 'em all," he explains, "But ever since my kid was a girl scout, I always get cravings for girl scout cookies, so I buy an armful o'boxes and try and preserve 'em throughout the year, till I can replenish."

"What's your favorite girl scout cookie?"

"Caramel deLites, hands down."

"Oh yeah?"

"Absolutely," he nods.

The bartender, Jeff, sets the man's drink down with a clink. You catch one another's eye and both erupt into a fit of laughter.

You're not even sure what's funny. Maybe it's just been a long day? Maybe the whiskey was getting to you?

Whatever it is, it feels good.

The man takes a sip of his drink and lets out an aaaahh and it's goofy and charming and then he extends his hand.

"Joel," he tells you, "Joel Miller". You shake his hand, introduce yourself, and then take a sip of your own drink.

"So, tell me about yourself," you smile, "You coming from out of town?"

"Yes ma'am," he nods, "Come up here from Austin."

"Texas?"

Joel nods.

"That's a long trip."

"Yeah," he laughs, "It really is."

"So, you're a nice Southern boy, huh?"

"Well," he swishes his glass and tries to bite back a smile, "I don't know that I'd go quite so far, but my mama did raise me to be a gentleman."

"That so?" you ask and his blush deepens.

"I... have been known to get up to some trouble, but I like to think I've mellowed in my old age." He gestures at the beautiful little smatterings of silver at his temples, and you cackle.

"Okay, that's hot," you tell him and he chokes, but you keep going, "Old age, though? What are you, like, forty?"

He exhales, chagrined. "Forty-one."

You roll your eyes. "That ain't old."

"It feels it sometimes," he smiles, "My kid is grown. My little brother's married with a kid of his own on the way. My back hurts, pretty much all the time."

You snort. You also notice, without trying to look, that he doesn't have a wedding band. Doesn't have a tan line for one, either. Interesting.

"But more than that," he continues, "I guess I feel- I don't know. A little... aimless?"

"Yeah," you nod, and you let the moment sit. "I get that."

He lets out a little breath, and then turns back to you, focused.

"What about you? Where're you from?"

"Oof," you exhale, "All over. Spent a bit of time on the East coast. The Midwest. Lived a few months in the South, even," you tease as you bump your shoulder into his and he laughs. It's a surprisingly familiar gesture, but miraculously comfortable.

"Ever make it to Texas?"

"Naw," you shake your head, "My time in the South was all in Mississippi. After that I moved out to California, and I've been slowly working my way up the West Coast."

"And what have you been enjoying about the West Coast?" Joel asks.

"The mushrooms," you grin, and Joel frowns.

"Like, the kind you get in a little baggy from the dealer down the street, or-?"

"No," you laugh, "Or, well- Okay, sometimes. Gotta say it is great out here for that, too. But I mean fungus as a whole--mushrooms, mold, yeast, lichen. But I'm most interested in mushrooms. They're just really fuckin' cool, and there's so much we don't understand about them. And, they're delicious."

"Huh," Joel ponders, "T'tell you the truth, I've never thought much about mushrooms, besides enjoying 'em as a pizza topping."

"Most people don't," you agree, "But fuck, like-- Okay, so we know there are over five million types of fungi on Earth, but we've identified less than two percent of them. Some fungus aids decomposition. Some fungus is bioluminescent. Some are known worldwide for their delicious flavours, and others are known by the slow, horrible ways they kill you."

Joel raises his eyebrows, and suddenly you feel a little self conscious.

"Sorry, I do this," you laugh, rubbing at the back of your neck, "I get very excited about fungus and manage to alienate everyone around me."

You half expect him to stand up and walk away.

Instead, though, he leans in closer. "Don't apologise," he tells you, "I'm learning something new. Tell me more?"

"No, I should stop. Otherwise I'll never stop talking," you wince.

"How about just one more fungus fact?"

You sit for a minute, pondering. "This is- well, I guess this is one of the reasons I find fungus so fascinating. So, fungus can't photosynthesise the way that plants do--they can't produce their own food from sunshine, and water, and carbon dioxide. Instead, their mycelium-- they're these thread-like networks--they branch out beneath the earth, seeking out food, growing in the direction where it can find the nutrients it needs and breaking down organic material all around them, sometimes living organisms, as a parasite, and sometimes dead organisms as a decomposer, or both. And it's just- It's this hidden world, that exists right beneath the surface even in some of the extreme places on earth, temperature-wise. And most days, we don't even think about it."

You punctuate your thought with a large swallow of your drink, which is half-watered down now that the ice is melted, and doesn't hit quite as hard as you'd hoped, but then you look up at Joel and he's smiling at you, pensive, and--

"That's- That's actually really interesting."

Before you can respond, though, Joel glances at his watch and balks. It is getting late. "Shit," he shakes his head, "I think I oughta call it a night," he says, pulling back. "Early morning tomorrow, and if I stay at the bar I'll just keep drinkin'."

Fuck. That's a dismissal. Of course you went on too much about mushrooms. You'd fucked this up. You'd thought this was going well, but now it felt like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you. "Oh," you nod, matching his posture, and try to swallow down the sudden wave of disappointment. "Of course. Have a good night, Joel."

Joel stands up and then looks you up and down, considering. It's not brazen, but it isn't shy, either. And then understanding flashes across his face.

"Wait- Sorry, that's not how I meant it." He reaches out towards you and you melt into his touch. "I'm messin' this up." He chuckles, but it sounds pained. "Now look, I don't wanna make any presumptions. And I'm really hopin' I'm not coming off as some--dirty old man. Jesus, I haven't done this in a while. But I'm in room 308."

Your eyebrows shoot up. What you'd taken for disinterest was just--nerves?

"I reckon I'll be awake for a while yet. You're welcome to... drop by."

The disappointment melts, making way for a fluttering in your stomach.

"Twenty minutes," you assure him, "308?"

He nods and he brakes into a sheepish grin, shedding what you now realise had been something of an anxious wince. "308."

You watch him leave. When he's out of sight, you toss back the rest of your watery drink and go to pay your tab, but Jeff tells you it was already settled. You thank him and tuck your shaking hands in your pockets. You feel an electricity running through you as you take the elevator up.

When you get back to your room, you hop into the shower, just to freshen up--you keep your hair dry but scrub your body. Once you're clean, you brush your teeth.

Stepping back out of the en suite, you survey the hotel room. Spatula is lounging on the corner of the bed, entirely uninterested in your movements. You top up his dry food bowl and place a kiss between his ears before slipping out.

When you knock at Joel's door, you hear a slight rustle and clatter and then the door swings open, Joel's staring a little wide-eyed, like he didn't actually expect you to show. He's wearing grey sweats and a Johnny Cash t-shirt that looks like it's been around nearly as long as you have. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, an anxious tell that's desperately endearing.

"C'mon in," he smiles, and you step in, closing the door behind you.

You reach out to cup his face, delighting in the feeling of coarse stubble beneath your fingertips. Your first kiss is chaste. You both lean forward and press your lips to one another gently, exploring.

Then, you let out a little moan and Joel shudders. Heat surges between you, and his hands are cradling your head and brushing your cheek and he's pinning you against the closed door. You're kissing again, nothing chaste remaining, learning the taste of him, his rhythm, the crashing waves of give and take between you.

You wrap one leg around him and smirk when he lets out a throaty groan as you grind against his hard cock. You're pretty sure he's not wearing underwear, the thick bulge seemingly unconstrained in his grey sweats, the whole length pressing against your thigh.

Your head falls back and you let out soft, breathy noises as his lips trace along your collarbone, up your throat, and against that tender little spot behind your ear. When he puts your earlobe between his lips and presses his teeth gently against the skin, your knees go weak and he chuckles, strong arms wrapping around you, holding you up.

"Bed?" he asks, and you breathe yes and then, with a yelp and a throaty chuckle, you're lifted up and spun around and both tumbling into the duvet.

You're grasping at each other, desperate to keep your hands on one another. The only times you part is when you undress, and even then, you're helping each other--pulling the hem of his shirt over his lifted arms, pressing into him as he reaches around and moves to unhook your bra, but then he realises you're not wearing one and lets out a groan, his thumbs brushing alongside the tender skin along your ribs, moving gently as if to cup your breasts, but then he pulls back.

Normally you might wait, do this part slowly, draw out the tease just a little bit longer.

Tonight, though, you're ravenous.

As you fiddle with the buttons of your pants, you tug at the drawstring keeping Joel's sweats on his hips. The bow comes loose in one smooth motion, and he lifts his hips and you pull the sweats down.

Your mouth immediately waters seeing him bare, laid out for you. You watch a bead of precum drip down the head and pool on his belly. The coarse hair of his happy trail glistens with it. He's thick, uncut, and looks painfully hard, his cock head ruddy. "Fuck, you're beautiful," you tell him, and his cheeks redden but he grins. It's boyish, the way he grins, and devastatingly charming.

And, what you're saying is true. His body is gorgeous, something you wish you could sketch. Soft flesh over hard muscle, visible tan lines where his chest and shoulders are noticeably lighter than his arms. The muscles and veins along his throat are driving you absolutely fucking insane as he swallows and looks up at you.

He's got freckles on his shoulders, too, and without thinking, you lower yourself down to kiss at his shoulder. He shakes, just a little, and lets out the most beautiful gasp. It's addictive, pulling these noises from him. You follow the curve of him, giving him a taste of his own medicine--tracing feather-light kisses along his collarbone, up the tendons of his neck, behind his ear. You can feel the blood pulse in his veins as your lips brush along him. Joel goes from panting lightly to full on groaning, rutting his hips up towards you and, frustrated, meeting only air.

"Can I taste you?", you ask, and Joel lets out a half-strangled sound and nods, vigorous.

You scoot back, lower yourself, poke out your tongue and, without any preamble, lick at the slit of his head, tasting the salty, tangy precum.

Joel tips his head back and groans and you decide to be kind. You grasp onto his hips and take him in your mouth, slowly sinking down, inch by inch by inch and now you can feel him at the back of your throat, your saliva dripping down the shaft and collecting in the hair between his thighs.

You bob your head up and down, taking him deeper with each thrust, but your throat is full and there are still inches to go. You relax, doing everything you can to take him deeper, and he starts to thrust up gently.

You let him fuck into your mouth but release one of his hips, allowing him to move as freely as he needs and freeing up your hand, which you shove into your underwear, rubbing furiously at your clit.

It doesn't take much to lose yourself in it, to focus only on the sensation. You're so wet, slick coating your fingers, making the glide that much smoother as you touch yourself. Joel tastes so good, too, the intrusion of his cock the most delicious thing, feeling the way he shudders when you moan, the way he moans when you shudder.

"Fuck-" Joel gasps, and then there's a hand guiding you gently off of him.

You raise an eyebrow. "You okay?"

He swallows, hard, and nods. "More than okay. Felt too fuckin' good."

"Oh yeah?" and you lean down, as if to take him back in your mouth, but he chuckles and pulls you back again.

"It's been... a while. For me. And-" He drags his palm down his face, wearing an almost pained expression. "Christ, you just look too fuckin' good down there, mouth stretched 'round me while you touch yourself. An' it feels too fuckin' good, too. I ain't ready for this to be over yet but if you keep lettin' me fuck your throat like that it's gonna be over real quick. And I wanna feel that pretty pussy myself."

You sit back up and he pulls you towards him so you're straddling him.

"You gonna fuck me, Joel?"

"Yes," he breathes, "Yes, baby, please-"

You do an awkward wobble and then stand up, shedding your pants and letting your panties drop, stepping out of them, one foot and then the other, and the way he's watching you is addictive. He watches you with beautiful eyes, drinking all of you in, and suddenly the moment has changed into one of those quiet, intimate moments where you both exhale a laugh.

You straddle him again, and lean down to kiss him, and the electric current surges up. He grabs you by the jaw, meeting your desperation. His lips on yours are exactly the balm you need and you can taste the whiskey on his breath.

"Feels fucking good," you tell Joel as you slide up and down his length. He's not penetrating you, not yet, but the lips of your pussy are spread and you're gliding along him, feeling his head at your clit and thrusting back till you're nearly seated on his balls.

He watches you, nearly unblinking, drinking it all in. Then, he lets out a groan, and half-sits up, suddenly focused.

"Shit," he closes his eyes in frustration, "I don't have any condoms. Shit shit shit-"

You push him back down and kiss him again. Then, you hop off the bed and sift around in your jean pockets.

"Ah-ha!," you exclaim, once you've found your treasure. Joel raises and eyebrow and you wink. "Saw they were selling them in the lobby. Figured it might be a good idea."

"Shit," Joel laughs, and presses his lips just to the side of your mouth. "Clever girl," he tells you, and a shiver goes up your spine.

He leans to help, but you shoo him away and he watches, entranced, as you neatly open the condom wrapper and, with a small amount of difficulty, roll it down his cock.

"Feeling okay?" You ask him, "Shit, I shoulda gotten the Magnums. Is your dick okay? It's not being choked to death by an inappropriately sized rubber, is it?"

Joel snorts. "We'll manage," he says, and then he grips you by the hips, lines himself up. He draws his knuckles along your cunt and groans, "Fuck, so goddamn wet for me-" and, the moment you look at him and nod, he holds the head of his cock against your drooling lips and presses into you.

It's a big stretch as he lowers you down onto him, the intrusion almost painful, but before you can even take a breath, it melts into absolute pleasure. You've fucked people with longer cocks before, and you've fucked people with girthier cocks before, but never have you fucked someone with a cock that's both this long and thick and it feels like you're being split in two and it's perfect and you realise, with a sudden flip of your stomach, he isn't even fully seated inside you yet.

Then, you manage to focus on the words Joel is saying-that had really just been background noise for the past ten seconds or so-and suddenly you're tuning back in for "Tha's it," his voice low and hoarse, surprisingly gentle, "Good girl, takin' this cock so well, look at you."

His brow is furrowed and he's looking at you with such dark eyes, nearly black, the pupils are so blown. "Just a little more, that's it, just one more inch, you can do it, christ, look at you, takin' all of me."

His tone is reverent and it sets a fire through you. You can feel more slickness build and drip out of you, and from the way he moans, you're certain he can feel it too despite the condom.

"So fuckin' wet," he groans, "Soakin' my cock- grippin' me so nice-Fuck--"

He leans towards you and cradles your head in his hand, kissing you hard.

When you both pull back, you know your lips must be kiss swollen and red. His are--they're soft and bright, and you want to eat him whole.

"You're gonna be the death of me, woman."

He's thrusting into you lazily, holding you in place, but you need more, you need all of him.

You push forward and move his hand from your waist to your clit. As you manoeuvre him, his nostrils flare, and you'd wonder if he was angry, if not for the way you felt his cock stiffen even further inside of you. You start to move your hips, to rub up against the thumb on your clit, and to feel every fucking inch of him.

Urged on by the way he groans, you start to ride him, properly. Holding each other close, you fuck down onto him and he leans back, awed.

"Enjoying the show?" you ask.

"Damn- right- I- am-," Joel breathes, every word punctuated with a shuddering breath after you drive back down onto his cock, "Jesus- you- look- so- good- like- that."

You like being watched. Being admired. It sent an extra thrill through you, and your hips stutter, just a little, and now you're following a new, faster rhythm.

"Fuck, that's it, baby-" he praises, "Shit, yes- bounce on it."

You lean forward and kiss his throat, and then he makes this noise, half-strangled and beautiful.

"Shit, honey-- honey, honey, hold on-," he holds you still and you're glad he has, because your brain hadn't quite processed his words.

He's looking at you so earnestly.

"Baby, if you keep ridin' me like this I am gonna blow my load in the next twenty seconds and I don't wanna end this quite so soon."

You hum, a moment of consideration. You stare into his eyes, and part of it is calculated seduction, but another part is getting genuinely lost in the way he looks at you. The crinkles round his eyes. The way he seems able to focus on you, in a way that feels as frightening as it is exhilarating.

"How about this," You smile, "You get yours, and then you can eat me out till I get mine. And if you're ready to go again by the time I've come, we can see where we're at then. Hmm?"

You see a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, and take a moment to appreciate how much he's clearly trying to control himself.

After a moments of avoiding your eye, he looks at you again and he looks utterly wrecked. "You- talkin' like that?" He shakes his head and tries to even his breath. "Fuck, I nearly came right there."

"It's okay," you soothe, and you cup his jaw and resume you movements, riding him like you had before. "You can come if you need to-" your fingertips stroke the stubble of his chin, "You're close, huh? It's okay, daddy, you can let go."

Joel lets out a strangled noise and busts immediately.

You savor the way it feels, the pulse of his cock as he spills into you. No, into the condom, you correct yourself, but you can always pretend-

After his balls relax and you can feel him start to get soft, you hold the condom down as you pull yourself off, and you're nearly unseated when there's a sudden squelch noise that sends you both into tumbles of laughter.

It takes a while to calm down, and you find yourselves heaving, tangled in the sheets, and wrapped up in each other. The condom is hanging limply on Joel's now-soft cock and it's oddly cold and gooey as you accidentally roll against it, and that sends you both off again.

"Fuck," Joel snorts, and tugs at the condom, starting to roll it off his length, "I'd almost forgotten the weird texture of a used condom. Fuckin'... Slug-like."

"That-" you declare, "Is visceral. And I hate it. Thanks."

He snorts, and you suddenly have a question.

"Condoms not making too many appearances in your life?"

"Not many, no."

"What, you usually fuck raw?"

"Just haven't been sleepin' with anyone," he shrugs, nonplussed.

"Well, I gotta say, the good people of Austin have been missing out."

Joel shrugs again, and it comes off as casual, but you notice the way his ears tint pink. "Just- not been something I did. But now, I guess, I can. And with way less guilt."

"Why guilt? Are-" you venture, dread pooling in your stomach, "Are you married?"

His eyes flit up to you sharply, and then soften immediately. He lets out a breath and shakes his head. "No. Nothin' like that. I was married, but I've been divorced nearly twenty years now."

The tightness immediately uncoils and you realise how tense you were only a moment ago. I am not a cog in the machine of a collapsing marriage. Thank fuck.

But now your curiosity is piqued. "So... why the guilt?"

"Sorry, I- I really didn't mean to get into it. I'd rather not get into it. It's- complicated."

"Of course," you shrug, and it isn't a problem because this is just a hot fantasy hookup that you'll remember fondly, and it'll be wonderful masturbation fuel for probably the rest of your life, but you don't wanna make the poor guy go into his life's trauma, especially when he's looking at you so fucking earnestly and you are actually really fucking fascinated but no, you would not let this become a problem.

"Thanks," he says, and then steps out of the room. You hear the clang of the bin as he steps on the pedal, then drops the condom, takes a piss and washes his hands.

"You hungry?" He asks, and you realize very suddenly, you're absolutely famished.

"Yes," you jump up and he laughs when you run, bare-assed and shameless, over to the corner of the room filled with brochures and traveller info and finally, you raise it in triumph when you find it, the list of nearby takeaways.

"Okay," you look at the list, "There's one place at the top of the list here that's apparently highly rated, but I actually have plans there soon and I wanna wait till then to eat there. Hope that's okay."

Joel comes over to you and rests his head on your shoulder. "No problem."

"But... alright," you continue. "There's pizza. Or... more pizza. Or, look--there's a Southern-style place, that'll make you feel right at home!" Joel pokes you in the side and you swat at him as he grunts a laugh.

Suddenly, a warning sound starts playing on loop in your brain. It was dreadfully domestic, wasn't it? This was an absolute stranger you'd just met in a hotel bar? But... it also felt... nice? And it felt nice in ways that you'd never found yourself enjoying before. Even with long-term partners. Maybe because this was so low-stakes, you reasoned, such an inevitably temporary situation, so you weren't putting the same kind of pressure on yourself.

As soon as you think that, the eternal curse of overthinking shows itself and you suddenly feel desperately self conscious. Before you can pull away and make some excuse, though, Joel's arm wraps around you and his thumb starts rubbing little circles into a tender bit of skin between your hip and your tummy. The anxiety spiral you'd been teetering on the edge of suddenly vanishes.

"How about-," he nods at the list, "Pizza?"

After Joel calls in your order, the pizza delivery service tells you to expect your food in about thirty minutes. You remember you have a little box of edibles. You ask Joel if he minds if you take one, and he doesn't. You offer him one, and he automatically declines, but then as he starts to explain, he pauses and pivots, goes "Wait, actually. Yeah. Why not?"

A freckled kid who looks no more than sixteen pulls up with a short stack of pizza boxes and a two liter bottle of root beer. He raps awkwardly on the door after exactly thirty five minutes, and it swings open.

The room looks utterly wrecked, clothing strewn along every surface. Joel answers the door wearing a robe, his entire face smelling of sex, and his moustache still shining with the slick of your release.

"Thanks, kid," Joel nods, and hands him a small wad of cash. The kid eyes him and shrugs. "Keep the change," he tells him, and the door swings back shut.

The edibles have hit beautifully. You're both blissed out, comfortably hazy, lost in the sensation of bare limbs on bedsheets and the flavors of the pizza and it's assorted sauces. You lay together on the bed, paper plates strewn between you. In the background, an X-Files rerun plays.

"Ooh!" You sit up as you catch the premise of the episode, "I love this one! See the goo? There's a giant fungal... entity.. that's working on digesting them, and giving them hallucinations as they die."

"You and mushrooms, huh?" Joel laughs, but then looks back at the episode and contemplates the viscous yellow goo. "Jesus christ," he frowns, and sniffs, now contemplating the mushrooms on his pizza slice.

You spot his glare and snort. "I think you're safe."

He takes another bite and shakes his head as if to clear it.

"I'm getting tired," he admits.

"Me too," you agree.

"No pressure, but in case it wasn't clear, you're welcome to stay the night here."

"That's sweet," you tell him, and think it over. "If I took you up on that, would you be offended if I slip out early?"

Joel raises a brow.

"I have a cat," you explain, "And I'm working on moving into a new place, and meeting a friend for breakfast, and then I need to check out after breakfast because I won't be able to get my keys for the new place until the breakfast but I can't take my cat to a diner-"

You take a breath.

"Basically, I've got a bunch of things I need to do in the morning, but if you don't mind me slipping out around, maybe, 5-ish, then I'd love to stay."

He stares at you.

You regret saying as much as you said. You don't need to over-explain yourself to this actual stranger. He doesn't care. There's no reason for him to care. He's probably in it just for the fuck, and it was fun and if you stay then there's a chance the two of you will wake up at some point in the night, still horny and lustful and you might fuck again and you'd be lying if you said that wasn't part of the draw. You realise, though, you'd also be lying if you said you didn't care what he thought of you. All of a sudden, you are overwhelmed with caring what this man thinks of you.

How fucking inconvenient.

"I wouldn't be offended at all," Joel chews, swallows, wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin and speaks again. "What's your cat's name?"

You don't know what you'd expected he'd say, but it wasn't that. You buffer for a moment. "It's- Spatula."

"Spatula?"

"Yep." You feel foolish.

"Huh. Spatula."

A silent moment between you.

"Got any pictures?"

You weren't expecting that, either. "I... do? Do you want to see them?" He nods. You pull out your phone to scroll through.

Joel, suddenly scrambled around for his phone, too. It was late and he hadn't checked it for hours. Had it been on silent? What if Sarah had called and he'd missed it?

His panic eased when he saw he had only two notifications. Both from Sarah, but neither were bad. He hadn't been neglecting any crises. The first text was a selfie of Sarah and an unfamiliar person, which she'd texted to him with the caption New roomie!! The second contained an address to the place they'd have breakfast tomorrow along with Just wanted you to know I've invited a friend to join us tomorrow morning! Is that okay? Realized I should maybe have checked with you? 😬

There was an ache in his chest. He wanted to keep her to himself, get to spend one last day, just the two of them. It was the start of a whole new chapter, but more than anything, he wished he could hold onto the moment for just a second longer.

But Sarah was stressed, he knew this, so he wasn't gonna make it worse and put this burden on her. He could handle it. He had to handle it. He typed back- No problem, baby. Can't wait to meet your friend.

After a moment, he followed up with another text. Gonna turn in now. Good nite!

The less he texted right now, the better. He did not want Sarah to know anything about the night he was having.

His screen lit up a moment later. Night Dad! He takes a deep breath and wills some of the tension away.

He slips his phone aside and you scoot into bed next to him.

"This," you announce, "Is Spatula."

Joel scrolls thru, his brows raising higher with each image.

With a single nod, he opens his mouth and instead of speaking, he collapses into laughter. It comes out a wheeze- "I-- I know this won't make any sense, but your cat looks just like my goddamn brother."

You're laughing now too, both of you almost hysterical, even though you have no frame of reference. You cherish the absurdity.

Then, Joel pulls up a picture on his phone and shows you, and now you're doubling over again because his brother looks exactly like Spatula.

You don't remember falling asleep. You curse your body's internal clock because you wake up right at 5am, and even though you know you should get up and leave, you wish you could have just a little bit longer.

It's such a comfortable way to wake up. One arm is folded under your pillow, and the other is slung over Joel's hip. He's asleep, snoring softly, and strands of his hair are mussed along his forehead. Your hand is holding his tummy, but you realise there's something pressing against the heel of your hand, and then realise, with a delicious jolt, that he's hard and straining against his boxers.

It's so fucking hard to get out of that bed, but with enough barely-effective reminders--you're gonna fuck up your whole day if you're late, gotta make a good impression, Spatula's gonna be so disappointed if you're late with his breakfast--you manage to bully yourself out of the warm and wonderful bed containing blankets and absolutely fantastic dick, and you tiptoe through the room, dress quickly, and, after making a note and leaving it on his bedside stand, you slip out.

Joel wakes up with a jolt, and then rolls over to see that the alarm clock (which he dared not contemplate the number of times he must have snoozed) was telling him it was 9:13.

He was late. Really fucking late. And then the panic made his brain spin faster and that's when he noticed the note on his bedside table.

I had a really good time If you're in town for a little longer, don't be a stranger?

It's followed with your name and phone number, and a rather detailed mushroom sketch across the page. He wasn't sure what kind of mushroom it was, but it was beautiful, and clearly hand-drawn, and for whatever reason you'd decided to tear it out of, presumably, your sketchbook? And you gave it to him, and he's gonna read that note and replay last night for the rest of his fucking life. It felt incredibly precious. He placed it in a book so it wouldn't get creased or folded. Made sure it was all contained and neat, totally flat in between the pages.

Then, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower.

After scrubbing the smell of sex off of his entire body, he dresses quickly and checks his watch again. 9:28.

He texts Sarah and lets her know he's a few minutes behind. She responds with an eye roll emoji.

Joel settles in his truck and pulls up directions. It's only a few minutes away. He won't be too late.

When Joel steps into the diner, he's charmed by it. It's old school, with a checkerboard floor and bright red vinyl seats. He scans the room till he spots Sarah in a booth in the corner. She's laughing over a hot chocolate, and her friend must be in the seat opposite her.

He catches Sarah's eye and she grins at him, waving him over.

You've been at the diner about fifteen minutes, and you and Sarah are already getting along beautifully.

You'd met on a university message board and had become fast friends, but meeting someone in person was always a little terrifying. On top of that, you'd already committed to spending at least one (academic) year with this person, so you were damn sure gonna make it work.

Sarah waves over her dad. You can't see him yet, the back of the booth too high.

But then he's standing right there.

You already have a hand outstretched, but when he sees you and you see him, your stomach flips and dread runs through you. All the color drains from his face. He looks like a deer in headlights, and you'd be surprised if you didn't look the same.

Sarah looks between you, not quite concerned, but definitely confused. Sarah smiles and tries to diffuse the situation.

"Hi dad!" She grins, "This is my new roommate! Well, the other new roommate--the one in the picture, their name is Ellie, they weren't able to make it this morning. BUT. Breakfast seemed like a great time to hand off keys!"

Joel is still frozen and white-faced. Your brain whirs, and you know you've just fucking catapulted yourself into a disastrous mess, but you do your very best to save face.

Reaching your hand out further so he can't possibly miss it, he gives into some familiar social instinct, takes it and you shake. You think of his hands, how they dragged along your body last night, touched you, felt you, wrecked you.

You introduce yourself. He nods, avoiding eye contact.

"Joel." He grunts. "Miller."

Sarah frowns at him, but turns back to the menu.

This- was unexpected. Problematic. Arguably, really fucked up. All of those things and more. But it'll be fine.

All throughout breakfast, you repeat that to yourself, letting the words bounce around your head. It will be fine, you repeat your mantra, it will be fine, and you try not to feel too hurt at the way Joel's avoiding eye contact as if simply looking at you will cause him unimaginable disgust.

Everything will be fine.

Note: The fic's premise is loosely based on the book Mistakes Were Made which is a fucking excellent sapphic romance novel that utilises this trope. Would strongly recommend the book if you're into smutty queer stories.

#joel miller smut #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel miller x f!reader #ok i gotta be honest i was stoned out of my mind for writing most of this #but mostly sober for editing #thank u for bearing with meeeeeee

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satinroses · 2 months

Text

How Yan! Adepti react to feeling jealous (separate)

A/N: I FINALLY finished all the 10+ story quests I had lined up that I was procrastinating doing. It was gruelling. I've never pressed space bar so much in my life. By the end I couldn't feel my ass as I'd been sitting on it for too long BUT on the positive, doing Xianyun's story quest made me nostalgic for Liyue and got me motivated to write a little bit! I may do a harbinger one if I feel a bit silly, I'm not sure yet but please let me know if that's something you might be interested in! <3

(also i’d usually give this a little final read through but i am so exhausted so i just wanna get it posted so please forgive any silly mistakes or inconsistencies)

Word Count: 7.0k words

Includes Zhongli, Xiao, Xianyun, Ganyu

Warnings: Yandere Behaviours, if you are uncomfortable with dark themes please don't read! obsessive/possessive behaviours, younger Zhongli has serious issues - honestly all of them do, threats, violence, murder, manipulation, stalking, implied somno (depends how you read it) in Xiao's excerpt, some truly earth shattering delusions

Ganyu:

Renowned throughout Liyue Harbour for her mild manner and keen work ethic, the overworked secretary of Liyue Qixing was always a welcome sight around the harbour. It had taken Ganyu months to push past her bashfulness alongside countless encouragements from her colleagues and friends to confess her feelings to you.

It had only been once Captain Beidou had drunkenly declared that she would tell you herself if Ganyu didn’t muster up the courage that the Qilin had decided to tell you. Her cheeks flushed pink as she stuttered out her confession to you in the evening lantern light of Liyue Harbour.

Much to her delight you did not coldly reject the woman, instead you pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her lips before muttering that you felt the exact same way.

In her thousands of years of life Ganyu cannot recall a time she's known more peace than the time she has since shared with you. Your mere presence coaxes the insomniac into a gentle slumber. Every day she gets to spend by your side is a day in which the woman is glowing with giddiness, so much so that even the conqueror of demons had noted the positive change to Ganyu’s disposition.

Ganyu had always adored her position as secretary even if it had caused her immeasurable stress, she had always strove to serve Liyue in whatever way she could and never resented her position in spite of the responsibility it entailed however now that Ganyu had something to treasure, someone she wished to hold close she couldn’t help the annoyance that crept over her when she was asked to work overtime for the 5th time this week.

The Adeptus wanted nothing more desperately than to return to your shared home (she had insisted you move in with her as soon as possible and you simply couldn’t say no to her large violet eyes as they glimmered with unshed tears at the thought of you rejecting her offer) and monopolise you for the evening, ushering you into bed and holding you as tightly as the poor qilin could, whispering sweet nothings into your skin.

Ganyu prided herself on her maturity but even she couldn’t prevent glowering when she was denied yet another precious night in your company after Baiwen begged Ganyu to stay and help fill in some paperwork.

She had dedicated herself to ensuring the smooth running of Liyue harbour yet even she could not fend off the envy that shadowed her as the thought of you running around the harbour without her. Every single person that was allowed to gaze upon your face while Ganyu was away from your side were rapidly earning spots on the Qilin’s list of enemies (a list she had only created 20 seconds prior)

Due to Ganyu’s soft and sensitive demeanour it’s easy to forget the sway she holds over Liyue. Several of the Qixing owing her favours after her years of servitude, she is in possession of countless embarrassing secrets she has gained access to due to her position. She holds the ears of the wealthiest people in teyvat as well as having fought ferociously in the archon war in bygone millenia.

Ganyu helped construct the very nation of Liyue into what it has become, moulding it with her very hands into the prosperous land it is. The people of Liyue have seemingly forgotten that Ganyu’s servitude is entirely her own choice. She does not serve the Qixing because she sees them as above her, she serves the Qixing because she wishes to, because she understands Liyue would collapse without her guiding hand.

Perhaps people will remember that when a man who makes a flirty remark to you will have a letter left on his doorstep detailing a solemn secret he long thought buried.

Perhaps people will remember that when the girl who blushed when your hands brushed as you both reached for the same bag of wheat is arrested for fraud despite her desperate claims to the contrary.

Perhaps people will remember that when the vendor who overcharged you goes bankrupt the following morning.

Perhaps people will remember that when the treasure hoarder who accosted you for your mora is found weeks later deep in a cave in Minlin, impaled with countless frosty arrows.

Rest assured, if people forget just how fierce Ganyu can be then she is more than happy to remind them.

Xianyun:

Xianyun often considers herself above such petty emotions as jealousy and possessiveness.

She loudly declares herself one of the most measured of the Adepti, harbouring centuries of combat prowess and mechanical genius, raising two independent and fierce young woman on Mount Aocang, remaining a fierce and honourable servant to Morax and enduring the insults that flying rat that accompanied the traveler spewed at her, intentionally and not. Xianyun regarded herself as a dignified and patient woman.

After centuries of not being proven to the contrary, to the mighty Cloud Retainer there is no issue that cannot be overcome with the technical brilliance she has acquired or the thrumming power of the illuminated blood in her veins or so she had believed until recently.

Despite the mystery and majesty the Adepti commonly shrouded themselves in as they dwelled in their mountainous retreat, Xianyun had always been vigilant in ensuring that she honoured her vow to Rex Lapis and safeguard any of his subjects she comes across.

After doing her divinely ordained duty centuries ago and saving a young man from a rock fall she had since become accustomed to receiving offerings from the man's family and his descendants in the centuries since then.

As an adepti offerings of thanks and acknowledgments of her mercy were not uncommon, especially to one so revered as cloud retainer. Even so she continued to be surprised that his descendants remained vigilant in offering their sincere gratitude towards her centuries after she saved the man.

If you asked Xianyun herself she would claim she holds none of the descendants in higher regard than the other however if you were in her presence when a certain individual climbs up the path to Mount Aocang you would be able to see in the way her breath hitches and she stops her sentence, her entire being frozen as she watches them set down the home cooked meal and offer a gentle prayer of thanks.

Even in her crane form her eyes never once stray from the visitor. She trails her vision over them, intaking every aspect of their appearance. how their hair falls over their face, how their breath comes out in warm puffs after the exertion of the climb, how they let a satisfied grin fall upon their face as they set the meal down.

Despite her tenacity and confidence Xianyun has still not formally introduced herself to her visitor, instead opting to watch from afar. She goes out of her way to personally ensure that your journey to Liyue harbour is safe and uneventful as she trails after you in her avian form, her eyes on the path ahead of you. She is more than ready to dart down and defeat any hillichurls or geovishaps or clear the rock slide blocking your path before you’re even aware the obstacle is there.

If anyone were to inquire about her vigilance in ensuring your safety she would puff her chest out and remind them of her contract with Rex Lapis and the duty she had to guard Liyue Harbour and all its inhabitants.

Shenhe and Ganyu have long given up on inquiring about you after a flustered cloud retainer gave them the same monologue about her sworn duty to Morax for the 27th time.

Does she do this with every visitor to her domain? For thousands of years one has been a most faithful servant to Morax, to question one fulfilling their duty is to question ones-

As far as Xianyun is concerned she is simply doing her duty as an adeptus, there is no ulterior motive and she will ensure that she emphasises this to every person who inquires about her interest in you.

She even goes so far as to have Shenhe and Ganyu give her regular updates on your life when you haven’t been out Mount Aocang in a long time (read: over 24 hours)

Upon formally moving to Liyue Harbour, Cloud Retainer assumes the name of Xianyun and decides to use her mortal form to officially introduce herself to you. She will not allow you to know of her true identity as the subject of your reverence until she believes you are both adequately acquainted. One wishes simply to know you she thinks to herself

Again this is merely her curiosity at work she convinces herself. she merely wishes to know you are safe or so she attempts to convince herself, ignoring the tender fluttering in her chest at the thought of seeing you up close.

No this is simply her duty as an adeptus. She takes her contract seriously, nothing more.

She doesn’t seem this invested in any of the other citizens? One does not have to justify Oneself to the likes of you.

From the updates she had instructed Shenhe and Ganyu to deliver when she still resided on Mount Aocang she knew you frequented the Yanshang Teahouse. Unsure of when you would decide to visit it again she simply decided the best course of action would be to go to the teahouse every night from midday to closing until her eyes could meet yours.

On the 4th night of waiting to see you again she was growing antsy and entertaining thoughts of banging down every door in Liyue until she found you once again, her eyes darting around the room frantically. Her vision danced from face to face in a frantic tango until it settled on a familiar one.

Her entire being relaxed as she saw you seated at a table, soft hands clasped around a cup of tea taking tentative sips. The warm glow in your eyes made her feel as though she was feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin for the first time yet seeing that tenderness and affection directed at the person seated opposite you made her illuminated blood simmer as violent imaginings filled the adepti’s mind, a thousand different inventions to bring nothing but distress to your counterpart.

Equally Xianyun’s mind raced with a dozen different ways to fix this situation. No one but her deserved to see the soft glow in your eyes. No one but her was worthy of your reverence. To see you sharing the admiration she thought was only reserved solely for her... One would not stand for it.

You do not survive fighting in the front lines of the Archon war and a thousand tribulations afterwards by allowing slights against you to go unanswered. Xianyun was no stranger to seeking out her own justice.

Such a shame for the person next to you that they are visiting from Fontaine and as such she has no obligation to hold back. Even if they were from Liyue she is not entirely sure even Morax could prevent her from exacting her bloody vengeance.

Although she had originally decided to stay in Liyue harbour permanently she now found herself longing for the recluse of Mount Aocang, her only little world where the only people that mattered were the two of you. That was all she needed. You would soon learn that was all you needed to.

She would pack tonight and leave for Mount Aocang at first light.

The next time you would set foot on the mountain you would not be leaving again.

Xiao:

The conqueror of demons

The vigilant Yaksha

The bane of all evil

Throughout his many millennia of life Xiao has been called by countless titles but from you he longed only to hear his name on your lips.

After saving you from a few hillichurls he had anticipated the usual stuttering of gratitude that was so common from mortals, however what he didn’t expect was how his heart tugged at the sight of relieved tears in your eyes. Large wet eyes looking up at him with unabashed admiration.

The adeptus was puzzled by the clear reaction his body had to the tender gaze you bestowed upon him. With flushed cheeks and dilated pupils the vigilant yaksha quickly fled from the scene, not even muttering a word. He spent the night attempting to disregard how the gentle trembling of your lips replayed in his minds eye or how he simply couldn’t rid himself of the thought of how soft and supple your skin had seemed in the cool moonlight of Liyue.

The following day and night the yaksha busied himself with slaying the beasts and scum that loitered within the vicinity of the Wangshu inn. When you disregard the fervent replaying of your interaction yesterday that thrummed through his brain, the day had passed exactly as he had anticipated.

Torment.

Suffering.

Misery.

These were parts of his day that was not foreign to him. They certainly were not comfortable but there was an air of familiarity around these emotions. Perhaps his day would have ended in a similar way had it not been for the sound of hesitant feet making their way onto the top balcony of the inn.

He peered down from his position on the inn's roof inquisitively. Verr often made a point of ensuring any visitors to the inn avoided the top floor in order to grant the Adeptus much needed solitude.

Instead it was… you. Again.

In your hands sat a plate of almond tofu, your fingers gripping the porcelain plate almost hard enough to smash it as you called out hesitantly

“Adeptus Xiao?”

His hairs prickled as he heard you call out his name. Hearing his name on your tongue, echoing your pronunciation of every syllable, rewinding and replaying the noises you made. The hitch of your breath before speaking, the breathiness of your words, the fondness in your tone despite your nervousness.

He wanted desperately to drop down and greet you, to ask you to say his name again. He would beg if he had to yet he couldn’t move

“If you’re here… Miss Verr told me you enjoyed almond tofu so I’ll just leave it here for you. I-”

You cleared your throat, your voice gaining some timbre as you gained some confidence speaking to what you hoped was the Adeptus that had saved you

“I wanted to thank you for saving me yesterday, without you i wouldn’t be here now”

You placed the plate onto the balcony before giving one last hopeful glance around. No sign of the adeptus. Regardless you whispered a soft hopeful prayer that the adeptus would find the token of gratitude you were leaving him.

As he heard your footsteps retreat down the staircase of the inn he finally allowed himself to breathe again. Leaping down onto the balcony of the inn with feline grace, he picked up the dish you left for him. His mouth pooled with saliva, his appetite was not for the almond tofu before him. As he traced the sides of the plate where your hands had once been, his heart fluttered like a teenage boy with a crush.

Xiao had spent the day thinking of you far more than he would dare verbalise but this new interaction with you had fanned the spark of interest into a blazing obsession. To think that he had been on your mind too, it was overwhelming for the adeptus, he almost didn’t want to believe that one such as himself could be blessed with something so tender to cherish as you.

He took care to watch over you vigilantly, rarely straying from your side. Ensuring your safety and acting as your shadow became his priority, however he still maintained a distance between you both, fearful that perhaps he may frighten you away with the intensity of his desire to guard you his karmic debt might overwhelm him in your presence.

The yaksha’s usual post at Wangshu inn was quickly abandoned in favour of his new perch on your roof. Of course he would never wish to invade your privacy but when you leave your bedroom window open like that… surely you must have some idea that the yaksha has taken an interest in you. Perhaps you know Xiao is there, you’ve seen him in the corner of your eye and this is your way of inviting him inside and you're simply too timid to declare it.

Even if you haven’t seen him and this isn't an invitation, clearly your senses are rather dull and you cannot be trusted to watch over yourself. He has been trailing you for weeks now so if you truly haven't noticed him then that’s all the more proof that he should slip inside your bedroom window… to keep a better eye on you while you remain defenceless as you rest.

Those are the two primary justifications he cycles through as he tentatively slides through your window, his feet silent on your floorboards after thousands of years mastering the art of agility. He wanders around your bedroom, flitting through the little trinkets you had scattered about; pretty seashells, crystals, a vase of silk flowers, your outfit for the following day.

He huffed out a breath at your mortal amusements, countless little testaments to your interests, a dozen tributes to your fascinations. Despite the superfluous nature of these curios you had scattered about, because they were small remnants of you he simply couldn;t bring himself to feel disdain for them, not when they brought him just a little closer into your world.

After he had thoroughly explored every countertop in your bedroom, his eyes darted to what he had been attempting (and failing) to ignore this entire time. Watching your peaceful slumber brought him more relief than he cared to admit. He perched tentatively on the side of your bed. Despite his attempts to restrain himself, he simply couldn’t prevent the wandering of his hand across the soft blanket that covered you.

Once he had traced his hand against your form, separated only by the blanket, he let his hand grasp onto a corner of it. Slowly peeling the blanket off of your form like a present that the archons had carefully wrapped just for him, golden eyes darkening as he drank in your body, covered only by sleep wear.

His deep, trembling intakes of breath stopped only when he saw your brow scrunch as you tossed in discomfort, reaching for the blanket he had since removed. Any moment you would wake up, he was sure of it. With no time to cover you back up with your blanket and even less to put your ornaments and baubles back in their spots he slipped back out of your window silently, returning back into the shadows to observe you faithfully.

The following nights he didn’t dare creep back into your bedroom. You now kept the window shut and curtains drawn. He would be dishonest if he said he wasn’t slightly frustrated by this development but moreover he was glad you didn’t simply ignore such an occasion. After all you didn’t realise it was him in your room, for all you know it could have been some debauched pervert. He would be thankful that you’re so vigilant about your safety if that was the extent of your preventative measures, however it was not.

You now had a friend staying with you. Admittedly you could just be having them stay with you as a deterrent or precaution to any unsavoury folks and yes he likely did give you quite the fright but you have no need for anyone's protection but his. You need only speak his name and the conqueror of demon’s is at your beck and call. He would be your undeterred shield, your unyielding blade to set upon any who would harm you if only you would let him.

Being around you makes Xiao feel tender and breakable for the first time since he signed his contract with Rex Lapis. He should hate how you make him feel but he can’t… he’s not sure he could hate anything pertaining to you. Well perhaps one thing: that friend who seems insistent on escorting you everywhere. Perhaps Xiao wouldn’t mind it so much (he definitely would still mind) if your friend wasn’t so liberal with his gaze, just by analysing the man for a few moments Xiao could tell he had less than noble thoughts about you.

After about a week of being on such high alert your friend convinces you to get out of the harbour, that perhaps some time away would do you some good. Perhaps you could go to Mondstadt for a week or so together. Usually you would be inclined to disagree with his spontaneous ideas but for almost a month Liyue has been smothering you. Initially you attempted to ignore the oppressive gaze you felt upon you, convincing yourself it was a mere delusion, a cruel trick your mind was playing but after last week you were certain there was a real cause for concern behind the gaze that followed you wherever you roamed.

Upon overhearing this conversation Xiao’s blood ran cold. Going to Mondstadt means leaving the area in which he can best protect you. Going to Mondstadt means you’re in far more danger than he could allow, sure he could ask that troublesome bard to keep an eye on you but that simply means opening himself up to questions he’s not even sure he knows the answers to just yet.

The accursed day finally arrives despite Xiao’s feverish wishes to the contrary. You begin the trek to Mondstadt when the sun is high in the sky, he keeps his eye on you, eagerly awaiting any moment you might need help, any opening for him to sweep in and keep you in Liyue for even a second longer. Perhaps this time he might mutter a word to you, tell you ‘you’re welcome’ when you inevitably drown him in gratitude or extend an offer of an escort all the way to Mondstadt (of course he’ll be escorting you regardless of whether you’re aware of it or not).

Instead you make it all the way to Wangshu inn without issue, much to the yaksha’s irritation. As the sun began to shrink into the horizon and the stars began to glimmer softly in the gloam coated sky, you beg your friend to stop in the inn for the night, hesitant to continue on with the daylight quickly dwindling however they refuse, insisting that you were practically at Stone Gate already and to keep on going for a little while longer, spewing empty promises of protecting you if anything might attack you. You shifted nervously, your eyes looking askew but you conceded, following dutifully after your companion through Dihua marsh.

As expected you didn’t get far in the dark without bumping into several hillichurls however much to your misfortune it wasn’t just a handful of meagre hillichurls. The mitachurl towered over you, his thick club raised in the air before slamming down next to your head as you rolled to the side. You darted out from under the beast, your eyes searching through the chaos for your friend only to be met with a distressing view. Your supposed friend fleeing the battle, their eyes searching for yours, tinged with pain as they mouthed a quick “I’m sorry” before continuing their desperate flee, leaving you to fend against the hillichurls alone.

Betrayal and dejection flooded you as you watched the person who had promised to protect you both from whatever had been watching you and whatever beasts you may bump into in the darkness. The stinging in your tear ducts and burning in your chest became dampened as you felt a swift tap to the back of your neck as your world faded into darkness. You felt no pain, no more betrayal as you collapsed.

Xiao had originally intended to take advantage of this situation. To appear by your side when the battle seemed lost, saving you if only to see your eyes light up in recognition of the yaksha before you but when he realised that wretch was fleeing from the battle, surely leaving you for dead he couldn’t stand still for another moment, his fingers curling around the air, instinctually craving the weight of his weapon to rest in his palms.

Using the end of this spear he hit you with just enough force to send you into the soft slumber of unconsciousness, catching you gently before laying you down on the grass, cradling your head like one would a newborn babe. With you carefully positioned out of his path he donned the mask of exorcism that usually sat at his waist, the karmic debt swirling around him in much higher intensity.

Slaughtering a small camp of hillichurls was a small feat for the conqueror of demons however he would not stop there. Xiao refused to rest until he felt that justice had been served for you, his most beloved.

Xiao scooped up your sleeping body before taking you back to Wangshu inn. When he first took up the mantle of protector of the inn Verr had offered him a room as thanks for his service and until now he had little need for it. He entered the dusty room and lay you down on the bed, brushing hair out of your face. The room was filled with only barebones furniture but perhaps tomorrow he would go to your home and bring you some of your pretty ornaments to make it seem more homely for you.

He allowed himself one small indulgence before he would head back out again to seek retribution for you. He removed the glove on one of his hands and took his bare, trembling fingers he traced across your lips. Memorising every inch and crevice of your soft lips beneath his fingers brought him a sense of unfathomable peace he had not felt since… he couldn’t remember anytime he had felt a sense of calm remotely similar to this.

Despite it paining him to do so the yaksha managed to force himself out of the stupor you had coaxed him into with your gentle breathing and sweet scent. Placing his glove back on and summoning his Jade winged spear the adeptus took off into the night once more.

When he returned to the remnants of the hillichurl camp, it didnt take long for him to find a trail. Following the dragging footsteps in the dust led him directly to your ‘friend’, now curled up at the foot of Wuwang hill, snot coating their face as their sobbed into their hands, wracked with grief and distress at their actions.

Even now the adeptus couldn’t muster even an illusion of sympathy or understanding, seeing them in this state only made his loathing for them grow.

They had truly deluded themself into believing they were a worthy protector for you? They couldn’t even defend themself.

With the hatred clawing up his throat like bile, Xiao couldn’t contain the Karmic debt slithering over him. His grip on his polearm tightened as he raised it above his head.

The fact that they truly believed themself to be a competitor for your affections would have almost been humorous had it not been for their display of cowardice not even an hour prior.

He plunged his weapon into their soft flesh methodically, his grip not faltering for even a moment. If it weren’t for his concern about you rousing afraid and alone, he would have taken his time and drawn their suffering out. He would have shown them that a few measly hillichurls were the least of his issues, instead he gritted his teeth, deciding to place your happiness and safety over his own desperate lust for vengeance.

Xiao quickly turned to abandon the scene. Even staring upon the filth’s body, thinking of the warmth and affection you had shared and how quickly they had forsaken you… No, he couldn’t end it like this. He turned back around to the almost corpse- the last few vestiges of life were flickering. Xiao resolved to make the last few breaths of air your friend would take as painful as possible. Digging his foot into their chest before he raised his polearm once more. Cutting and slicing, skewing and carving until all that remained after the frenzy was a mound of meat, muscle and bone.

Xiao crept into the room hoping you still remained asleep. A rare smile blossomed across the pale face of the Yaksha as he saw you curled up on the bed.

Dropping his spear by your bed Xiao stared at you longingly

He had waited so long for the moment in which he could express his feelings to you properly. He wanted to show you he loved you without fear. Now that you were lying in his bed, eyelids closed and breathing deep, Xiao made the decision that he could indulge himself fully before you woke up.

Just this once as a reward for saving you.

He’s sure you won't mind after all the time and energy he has devoted to ensuring your safety he’s almost positive you would be fine with him taking his fill.

Surely after two millennia of selflessness he has earned the right to be a little selfish.

With one swift step Xiao turned around to lock the bedroom door behind him.

Zhongli:

The reaction of Zhongli varies significantly depending on which phase of his life he is in. The man who goes by the name Zhongli has mellowed out considerably since his days as Deus Auri, If someone had stolen your attention away from him they may be greeted with several snide remarks and biting threats, if somebody stole your affection away from him then Zhongli would have a much less pleasant reaction however if either such thing occurred during his younger years as the Lord of the Adepti and God of contracts it is unlikely any potential suitors will escape unscathed.

In his youth Zhongli was far more of a slave to his draconic instincts than he was willing to admit. Upon the realisation of his intense feelings for you, the warrior god is far more frightened than he lets on. You are so fragile in comparison to him, so breakable. Not only that but humans are so flighty. Where Adepti may be content to sit on the same mountain top for centuries in solemn meditation, the same cannot be said for mortals. He has watched them flit about, to and fro for centuries and he would be lying if he didn’t find the mortal proclivity for change rather unnerving.

He has watched humans profess undying love for one another before turning around and betraying their vows to each other. It’s not that he thinks you’re anything like those adulterers, really he doesn’t but… you humans are slaves to your desires (he says, completely unaware of the irony his statement brings), he doesn’t want you to bring harm to your relationship because your human heart is fickle (you have not been made aware of your ‘relationship’ with the Lord of Geo) so he shall personally ensure that no one and nothing will allow you to stray from him.

And yes this is all because he cares about you and definitely not because when he sees other mens eyes flit across you he has to use every ounce of self control to prevent him from smiting the filth where they stand for allowing their lecherous eyes trail across you like a cut of meat at the market or a pretty jewel to possess (again, completely lacking in the necessary self awareness to recall how his own lustful eyes rake across your form).

Any man that makes an advance towards you shall meet a grisly end.

The shopkeeper who gave you an extra bag of rice on the house flees Liyue harbour muttering nothing but reverent prayers and desperate pleas for mercy to Rex Lapis for his transgression.

The Physician who helped bandage up your torso after you were wounded by a follower of Osial was offered a far more lenient punishment. Any place his skin may have made contact with you is carved off, his life is only spared as he was helping you however Morax cannot help the way his claws dig into his palms leaving fresh welts in the calloused skin, still unused to this humanoid form, unable to contain his rage at the thought of another touching you in a state of undress, even if only to heal you. Your bare skin is for his hands alone. If someone had to dress your wounds then they should have summoned him (please note that he has not made his affections for you known to you or anyone else for that matter)

After his most recent battle, felling yet another God who rivalled him for the position of Archon, Morax who had decided to take some weeks to allow for Liyue harbour to recover and the Adepti to rest. However when he learns it was a follower of Osial who dared to mar your delicate skin… He is rallying his Adepti with a fervour and aggression unseen from the warrior god. No one is entirely sure what has incited Morax to take such a devotion to ensuring Osial is destroyed but with his pupils in slits and his grip on Vortex Vanquisher so tight it looks as though the staff may snap, none of the Adepti are brave enough to question their lord.

Despite being renowned as the most fearsome of fighters no one, not even the closest of Morax’s allies had seen such a slaughter brought down by the Draconic lord of Geo.

Barbaric.

Savage.

Monstrous.

A slaughter.

Countless words could be used to describe the massacre Morax unleashed upon Osial, the Overlord of the Vortex and all his followers; however those were the most commonly repeated in the months following the extermination.

All knew to be wary of Morax, however that was the day the people of Teyvat truly learned to fear his wrath.

He hoped that when you looked out of the bay of Liyue Harbour and saw the Guyun Stone Forest, a complete destruction of every remnant of Osial and his forces, you would be reminded of his love for you, you would realise Morax is clearly the superior choice compared to all the other men around you.

Who but Morax could give you Teyvat?

Who but Morax would engulf the world in flame if only to see you smile?

Who but Morax could and would give you every comfort mora could afford?

He had frequently entertained various plans for his courtship with you; however the one his mind spun most frequently was to win the Archon war and assume his role as one of the chosen seven. Then he would raise you up as his consort, granting you immortality and binding the two of you eternally in a contract of marriage.

Of course that didn’t mean he couldn’t let his mind wander to other fantasies, his mind swirling with thoughts of spiriting you away to his palatial domain and keeping you there for days, weeks, months, years, however it took for his insatiable desire for you to be satiated. Only then would he leave his domain to win the war and return to you as the victor of the brutal war and one of the seven, finally able to rest a crown upon your head.

Admittedly he had yet to confess his desire to take you to wife or even that he loved you so desperately and fervently that it was one of the few things that managed to frighten the lord of contracts.

But surely you knew, even if he hadn’t verbalised it. He refused to believe you didn’t feel the tug between you both, reeling you together. You simply must understand what it's like to look into his eyes and feel as though you’re seeing clearly for the first time in your life. You have to know what its like to feel as though every step apart is energy wasted. You too must crave to feel his bare skin against your own, willing to merge into one if only to bring you both closer together.

Even if you somehow did not feel the same things… surely you must feel his gaze upon you. When he looks down at his city his eyes rest only on you, no matter how much he tries to break his gaze away from you.

Besides he doesn’t need words when he has made his romantic intentions towards you more than obvious in the way his draconic instincts have been roaring for him to. You have accepted his gifts of courtship happily, you clearly understand that he can fulfil his role in providing for you and any young you may have. He has seen you wearing the glaze lily in your hair, the very same lily he had his adepti scour the war torn lands for days to obtain.

Admittedly you seemed rather hesitant to accept the chests of mora and countless jewels he had left on your doorstep but equally you didn’t reject the gifts. As far as he was concerned that was proof enough that you had accepted his offer of courtship. By all draconic standards you were now officially entered into a contract with the rising Lord of Liyue and he would not take any contract lightly.

Despite the occasional event where some filthy wretch had to be taught to keep their lecherous eyes and hands off the Lord of Contracts future consort and the fact that he had not been able to converse with you about the future of your relationship, he believed his ‘relationship’ with you was going exceedingly well.

In spite of this and much to the rage of Morax, another reprobate had decided to give you an offer of courtship.

Morax can feel rage thickening in his veins, viscous and violent. Watching you blush softly at the Mortal’s meagre proposition. He understood mortals were far more inclined towards change and adaptation than a being such as he could even begin to comprehend as a deity that stands unchanging as stone, refusing to be eroded by the sands of time or the winds of change. Even so he did not expect such a flagrant betrayal. You don't even have the decency to look shameful as you forsake every thoughtful gift the lord of contracts had spent countless hours pouring over to ensure you received only the best.

Even if Rex Lapis didn’t currently have the time to display his affection verbally he had ensured that he had more than made up for it with his opulent gifts, only the finest for his future consort.

He had been desperately trying to restrain himself from stealing you away to his personal realm every time he saw you pass through the centre of the harbour. He had managed to restrain himself, displaying such self control and patience that he surprised even himself but a man has limits and the prime adeptus could stand no further insult.

How dare that vermin stand where he should, face to face with you, gazing into your eyes, drinking in the warmth that pooled into your cheeks, his arm extended with a meagre sweet flower clutched in his sweaty palm, the stem already drooping from being clutched so tightly.

Perhaps if you begged softly for the poor fools life Morax may bestow a rare act of mercy and only remove the man's eyes or tongue rather than his life, if only to see his beloved happy however all thoughts of Mercy were dashed when you accepted the flower with a soft smile gracing your face.

He didn’t think it was possible for his beloved’s glowing smile to inspire such a primal rage within him.

The city of Liyue harbour came to a stand still as their mighty Lord descended upon their city with a swiftness imperceptible to the naked eye to stand between you and your would be suitor.

A clawed hand clasped around the mortal man’s throat, blood trickling out of the small incisions the razor sharp claws of his humanoid form.

The man gasped for air however Morax’s grip was not dissuaded. His hand only faltered when he heard a familiar voice cry out

“Lord Morax! Please! Please release him i beg of you”

He turned his attention to you now perched on your knees, grasping at the bottom of his robe in a desperate plea and display of reverence. Although his blood still simmered with the fury of betrayal both at you and the wretch that had tempted you away from his side, seeing you now on your knees for him, tears welling in your soft eyes he simply couldn’t stay angry, not at you at least.

He threw the young man down on the ground with a sickening crack, watching him writhe around desperately clutching at the wounds on his throat.

No more waiting and no more distractions. This little infraction has persuaded him to do exactly what he needed to this entire time.

Taloned hands scoop you up, pressing you close into a solid, warm chest as you are quickly whisked away from the harbour and everything you had ever known. He should have known better than to allow you to wander freely without his stewardship or guiding hand to lead you.

Thankfully here in Morax’s private domain you two will be able to remain unbothered for as long as he sees fit, remaining far away from any man that may dare to tempt you away from him and he can rest easy knowing you will be tended to by the servants whilst he goes out and deals with the rodent that tried to damage he and his beloved’s relationship.

Not that it shall matter anymore once the mortal is disposed of. After all, despite his reputation as a war monger and monster, Morax is capable of understanding and empathy. You cannot help the fact that it is human nature to wish to try every experience, to culminate a portfolio of countless events and adventures, it really was a failing on his behalf to not keep a closer eye on you. Not to worry, from here on out he shall never part from your side, he shall be with you every moment of every day to remind you of your vow.

Of course if he wins the archon war, and he will, he knows in his very bones that he was born for the role of archon then he shall have the power and authority to raise you up by his side, as his consort and bestow you with eternal life and only then you shall truly remain at each others sides, forever. He shall not even entertain the thought of you being stolen from him again, covetous creature that he is.

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hellodropbear · 4 months

Text

like she used to

alexia putellas x sister

i have been writing this for ages and it has just sat in my documents folder since january. i don't usually post stuff i write so this will probably get taken down at some point. i've written 13k words so far but this is just the first 4k.

~~~~~~

I hadn't expected to get the call up, not at all really. But Mapi tore her meniscus and apparently the first team found themselves in need of a backup centre back and I was the best option from the B team. It's a compliment, really. Mami is very proud of me and she is excited for me and my sister to play together in a few weeks, even though she is still recovering from her surgery and I will probably not make it off the bench. I am only 15 and 10 months, usually they wait until you are at least 16 and a bit before you can play.

But, I don't really know how to feel. Thankfully Alexia won't be in training with me for now and I try to avoid thinking about what will happen when she eventually gets better and I have to face her again.

Alexia is my older sister by a lot. There's a 14 year age gap between us and I used to completely and utterly idolise her. She and Alba were two superheroes, always by my side when I needed them. I put them on a pedestal like they were the greatest human beings to ever walk the planet. To me back then, they were.

I was only four when my father died. All I remember from that time was the big black invisible sheet that hung outside his study and the dark and scary emotions that swallowed our house whole. Alba and Alexia would argue about who got to cuddle me at night and I was so unaware what was happening that I would happily agree, wiping away their tears when it all got too much.

The death of our father made our family unit stronger. Mami, Ale, Alba and Elena - it was all any of us needed and we supported each other in whatever ways we could.

Mami had to pick up more shifts at her job, so she couldn't pick me up from school. Alexia had just got her license so she would come in a break during training and pick me up in her training gear.

Alexia didn't have time to drop me off at home so I would sit and watch the training with whoever wanted to give me company when they were injured.

Most days, Alba would come and pick me up and take me on the bus all the way home. She would play cartoons on the TV as she sat at the table and did school work. Some days, when she had the time she would sit with me and watch Alexia's training and we'd all go home together. Alba used to say she enjoyed the training. Looking back, I think she just wanted a free ride home and an excuse to not do her homework.

As I grew up, everything just worked. Alexia and Alba were still living at home as a support to Mami and everything was perfect. My sisters were my idols, my Mami was my shining star. She still is. She would do anything for her daughters, as long as it meant we were all happy.

That is why it has been so hard for her over the past two years.

I have not been happy, not really. My football has been thriving, I have represented my country in the under 17 age group and I am a consistent starter in the Barcelona B team. I spent two years in La Masia before they sent me to the B team last year and I have only been improving since. Everything is going well. Mami says I have had a better start to my career than Alexia did.

Maybe that is why Alexia hates me. Maybe Mami is just saying that to make me feel better about it.

Alexia and I, despite the 14 year age gap, were always inseparable - for the first 12 years of my life. She was at every single school event, football game, she picked me up from trainings when she could and would train me herself in the garden. We shared a common passion that Alba was not interested in at all - we both love football, we eat, sleep and breath it. Football is everything. She was the one who gave me that mentality.

"Football is life, Lena, you are lucky you are so good because now you also get to live football and hermanita, it is the most incredible thing."

She had whispered that to me when I was 11. We were sat on the beach, a place we visited frequently throughout my childhood, both of us staring out at the reflection of the moon on the sea. Alba was fast asleep, her head in Alexia's lap as she snored lightly, completely oblivious to our conversation.

It all fell apart over three years ago, although I don't have the first clue as to why.

It was not an explicit event that ruined everything, more my older sister growing up and flying the nest that was so secure and established over years and years of shared success, happiness, failure and grief. She moved out of home long before that, but her split with Jenni upset her, I think, a great deal. I wouldn't know because she didn't really tell me anything - that was strictly Alba's business.

I didn't even know they had broken up until 5 months after it actually happened.

"Mami, why does Jenni never come over any more?"

It was an innocent and normal question, but the look on my mother's face told me everything. Everything about Jenni and everything about my sister.

I think that was the first knock. She hadn't done anything wrong but I had loved Jenni and Jenni had loved me. I would have thought that she would have told me they broke up. Maybe she didn't want to, maybe she just forgot. She does a lot of that these days.

Before she and Jenni broke up, she still came to all of my games. She never missed one game before I transferred to La Masia and would insist on taking me out to ice cream after every one. She would tease me for not scoring like she does, even though I play as a centre back.

"You need some training from Mapi, she is a centre back and has the most lethal free kick, hermanita! She is the best defender I have played with, but don't tell her I said that. I think you will grow up to be better than her."

She was excited that day, I had made a few good saves and I think that was the first time she really saw that I had the potential to be great.

I remember the first game she was late to. I noticed immediately but we both pretended she was on time - she only made it to the last 10 minutes but I put it down as traffic or being caught up at training. She was busy, it takes a lot to be La Reina.

I remember the first game she missed entirely. She wasn't there at the beginning and she wasn't there at the end. I was 13 and I didn't have a phone yet so I couldn't call Mami and ask her to come pick me up because Alexia was too busy. I told myself it was because she was too busy. I didn't want to say she had forgotten because that was too hard for me to handle.

I remember vividly sitting outside the stadium as the sun set. My coach had asked where my sister was, I was a bit stuck with what to say but I managed to convince her I was fine and she could go home.

Alba came and picked me up after work that night. It was dark and she looked sad but when I asked if she was ok, she just shrugged her shoulders and said everything would be fine.

I found out from Mami a few weeks later that Alba was sad because I had never once been forgotten anywhere. Alba saw that as the destruction of our strong family. I suppose she was not wrong.

Alexia never said anything about that game but she was at the next. She didn't take me out for ice cream after, instead patting my head and telling me she would drop me off at Mami's work.

"I have things to do, Elena, I am very busy. Hopefully soon Mami will let you catch the bus on your own. Maybe Alba can take you soon so you know the correct routes."

Her words hurt more than I could admit to myself, I told myself to stop being pathetic. Mami asked why I was crying when I walked into her office. I told her I had played terribly and she comforted me. I think she knew I was lying. I think that is why she had tears in her eyes when she released me from her grip-like hold.

Since that day, Alexia has been to 3 of my games. She went to one more of my old club games but she was sat beside Alba, her eyes glued to her phone the entire match. I was so unfocused that the ball deflected off my face and we conceded. I was taken off with a bleeding nose but when I looked up in the stands, my sister was still staring at her phone. Alba had run down the stairs and was by my side when I entered the little sick bay.

I cried then too. Most people thought it was because of the bleeding nose or the conceded goal. Alba knew that wasn't the real reason.

The penultimate game she watched was the final of the under 15s Catalonia cup. I don't know what she did during the game because Mami told me not to look up. She said she didn't want me to get distracted but I think she meant to say she didn't want me to get hurt.

I think I still idolised Alexia at that point in time. She was still my older sister and she was still the best player in the world. She still had weekly dinners at home, although she wouldn't sit next to me and sneakily take all the food I didn't want off my plate anymore. She stopped staying to watch a movie after dinner even though my favourite part of the week was falling asleep in her lap as her hands combed softly through my hair.

I remember when I was accepted into La Masia, Mami held a nice big dinner. It was right in the middle of covid so it was technically illegal, but we had a lot of my family over. Mami invited a few of the Barcelona girls as well and Mapi and Leila reminded me of what it used to be like before Alexia stopped loving me.

The reminder of the before was more painful than I liked to admit, and the night ended when the tears that had been burning in the back of my eyes finally spilled out as I was talking to Mapi.

She immediately pulled me into her arms and asked what was wrong and I struggled to find a lie that would be believable.

I settled on saying I was upset about everything changing - which I suppose was true.

I remember Alexia looking mortified and breaking eye contact as soon as I looked at her. She told me off that evening when Mami was in the shower and Alba was talking to someone else. She told me I needed to be grateful for everything I have been given and that she paved the way for me.

It was even worse when she said I would never achieve the things she has. She said it was because I didn't have the mentality that she did, that I had it all so easy.

It hurt the most when she told me she was disappointed in the person I was.

"I hope we never share a shirt, Elena, because the day you play in the first Barcelona team is the day that we have run out of players. It will mean that football players are week and female footballers can not be weak. You do not have it in you to be like me, to do what I have done to get to where I am."

The venom in her voice sent a cold shiver down my spine and I felt like I had been stabbed. I didn't cry that time. I waited until I was in my bedroom to sob my heart out.

The last time she ever watched me play was the next day, but she didn't have an option not to. I played terribly, my first game as a La Masia student, my sisters words repeating over and over in my head.

That was really what tipped the relationship I once shared with Alexia on its head. The pedestal I had put her on was destroyed and suddenly she was just another player. I barely saw her as my sister any more. She couldn't love me, you wouldn't be able to hurt someone you love so much.

I have barely seen her since. She still comes to our family dinners on Thursday nights - she still very much loves Alba and our Mami. But I tell Mami that I have training with Barcelona B late on Thursdays. It finishes at 6 and dinner starts at 7, but I just organise to go to my friends' houses for dinner instead.

Sometimes we both have dinner together at home, but it is awkward and I hate it. I think she has probably forgotten about what she said to me in June of 2021, but I don't think I will ever be able to.

She doesn't like me, but it's ok because I have learnt to accept that. But I will never not love my sister because she was once everything to me.

~~~~~~

"Pequena Putellas!" Patri's excited shriek is what welcomes me into the dressing room on my first day. She tackles me into a hug and squeezes me tight. "It has been such a long time, mi favorita!"

The last time I saw Patri was only last year at the champions league final. I had sat with my whole family but I went to the bathroom when everyone else went and spoke to the players. I don't think Patri would have seen me.

I can only smile as she continues.

"I remember you as the little 8 year old who would sit and watch our training sessions after school! I was so confused by you when I first arrived here, you know. I remember the first time Ale let you play a game with us and you were so good!"

"Nobody doubted that you would be on this team one day!" A new voice entered the conversation.

"Marta!" I hugged the brunette closely. She was always one of my favourites.

"I am proud of you, pequena putellas."

Her words are familiar as I have heard them out of my mothers voice time and time again my whole life. But they seem foreign coming from Marta and it is an unwanted reminder of my sister. I don't know why - maybe it is because I have always associated this Barcelona team with her. I don't remember the last time she said she was proud of me.

I don't remember the last time she said anything to me, really.

"Gracias, Marta, I have missed you." I bury my head into her neck and she holds me closer.

"You have not been around as much since you transferred to La Masia. I wanted to come and watch but Ale never extended an invitation and I didn't want to overstep." I shake my heads at her words and she frowns.

"Alexia doesn't have time for my games, she hasn't for a while. It takes a lot to be La Reina."

Marta's frown deepens at my words and the attention of a few spanish players is captured. I should have spoken quieter, I forgot how many people in here speak catalan.

"It is ok, she is very supportive, but she just can't come to my games. She makes it up in other ways." I am lying through my teeth but Marta will never know.

"I am sure, she must be very proud of you, being selected in this team for the first time, it is a big deal, you are very young."

All I can do is nod, my energy is all being put into holding back my own tears. I don't know if Mami told her. I don't know if Alexia even knows that I was selected.

"Get changed now, I am sure Jona will want to talk to you before the session, especially with the game tomorrow."

I nod again as Marta pats me on the back and walk over to the cubby that says my name. It feels a bit surreal, really.

I never really thought I would see my name on a Barcelona cubby, accompanied by my new number that I chose in the meeting a few days ago. It was always a dream, but I never thought it was achievable. Alexia always seemed like a superstar, a superhuman of sorts and I would never reach that kind of level.

But here I am in the team that I always wanted to be in - in no way am I anywhere near my sisters level but I am on my way to being like her. I just wish she cared. I wish she was proud of me like Marta is.

Her cubby sits across from me and I try to tear my eyes from it but it sits and stares right back at me. I feel like an intruder in Alexia's space, this is not for me, she would not want me to be here.

I tie my laces quickly after that and head out onto the pitches to begin training.

I have trained with the first team twice before, but the Barcelona Bs were always slightly seperate and we could keep our distance from the first players. Jonatan is a familiar face and I feel comfortable as he smiles and me and motions for me to follow the others to the gym.

It is weird, being promoted within my own club. I am not so much a new signing, but a replacement - I am not good enough to be in the first team but they had no other options when Mapi injured herself.

I used to worry that people would say I only get opportunities because my last name is Putellas. When my sister told me I was weak all those years ago, that idea sort of cemented in my head, I suppose.

I never told my Mami what her daughter said to me because it would upset her. I told Alba half of it when she found me crying in my room a few days later but made her promise to not tell anyone. She couldn't say anything to Mami, Alexia, anyone at all because it would only make Alexia think I was weaker.

She was furious and tried to tell me it was untrue but it had already been said. I believed Alexia's word more than anyone else. To me, she was a superhuman.

But when I spoke to Jonatan a few days ago he made me feel like I was wanted within this squad. He made it clear that he wants me to integrate completely into the squad in the next few years and that he can see me playing soon even though I am only 15.

I told him I didn't want anything special because of my surname.

He told me that he chose me because of my first name.

"Elena Putellas," he said with a grin, "you may be as good as her, but you are not your sister. This is a professional environment. As long as you perform, which I know you will, nobody will care what your name is."

It was a big boost to my confidence.

Aitana Bonmati caught up to me quickly as I walked to the gym.

"You are big now." I chuckled but did not look over, I didn't need to really. "But not that big. You are only 15, si?"

"Yes, I am 15."

I met Aitana when she first joined the club. She always used to say that she would steal me and take me home with her because she thought I was adorable. It is strange that I am now sort of in the same team as her.

She started playing for the first team when I was 8. I was older then, I played my own football and liked staying with Alexia so I could kick a ball around with her teammates when they were done.

Aitana was one of the few who would stay every time I was there. When Alexia didn't want to wait she would drive me home herself, all the way to the other side of Barcelona. We would always stop for ice cream on the way home.

"I have not seen you in too long, Lena. I have missed you a lot but you have been doing very well in the B team. I am very proud and I take credit for your abilities." She spoke in such a dead pan voice but it was somehow still filled with emotion.

"I have missed you too, ABC." It was a nickname I gave her the first time she drove me home. I had been learning about the alphabet in English class and had the little song stuck in my head when she told me her full name. I used to sing her initials in the tune of the song but it quickly merged to me just saying the three letters.

"I have been to a few of your games, you know?"

I look at her in confusion, I have never seen her there. She just nods.

"Alexia never invited any of us but she was never at the ones I went to so I would sit in the stands with a hat and glasses so people wouldn't recognise me, but I was there. I went to your La Masia games as well. You have become a phenomenal player, Lena."

She has always spoken with such sincerity. I have missed her a lot.

"Maybe you can drop me off at home again tonight? I have missed you."

She chuckles and pulls me into a side hug.

"I was waiting for you to ask, little Lena. Oh you are not so little any more!"

I chuckle as well and let my head fall onto her shoulder as we enter the gym. My eyes scan the room, looking at all of the players on their equipment, nerves quickly settling inside me.

"Don't worry, it's all easy." Aitana seems to read my mind. "Just come with me and I will show you how to do everything. It will become second nature in the next few days."

The gym session went quickly as I was taught all the different exercises. I was familiar with most of them, having done a very similar program in the past with the B team.

We went out onto the field to do some drills and I played well. Jonatan was impressed and so were the first players. My teammates? Maybe, not quite, I don't think. I still haven't been in a team list, so I suppose I'll be their teammate when that eventually happens.

It wasn't until we reached the ice cream shop that Aitana started asking me all the awkward questions. I should have seen it coming.

"Why do you never come to our games anymore, Lena?" I was very grateful for the scoops of gelato in my hands. Eating it delayed my response as I tried to come up with something to say. I shrug as I eat.

I can not say it is because I do not get along with Alexia. It is too hard for me to say now, even after all these years.

"I'm not sure. I suppose I got busy with my own training and school. I have been to a few but I usually go home with Alba pretty quickly after they finish." It is only half a lie but she just shrugs, apparently not believing my words.

"And why is it that I am driving you home from your first ever first team training? I thought Alexia would have wanted to." I anticipated a question like this but that does not mean I wanted her to actually ask it.

"Alexia is busy." I hope that Aitana understands I don't want to talk about it. I haven't spoken about my broken relationship with my sister to anyone. I think she can sense something is wrong though, because she puts her spoon back into her ice cream and grabs my arm so I am staring right at her.

"If you ever want to talk, I am right here, Lena. I know you don't like people knowing what is going on inside that crazy head of yours but it is good to release your feelings."

She definitely knows something is wrong so I appreciate her not pushing.

"I have outlets, I play football, I play the piano, I am ok, aitana, I really am."

She eyed me as if to say she didn't believe me but dropped the topic anyway.

"When did you get so good?"

chapter II

#woso fanfics #woso #woso imagine #alexia putellas #putellas!reader #alexia putellas x reader #barca femeni #fcb femeni #alexia putellas imagine

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carmenized-onions · 5 months

Text

Tony, Terry, Tommy? | Walk-In Hotfix

synopsis; You get an unexpected call from an old friend in need of an emergency repair. Good thing: that's kind of your whole gig. Bad thing: You've been avoiding the Berzatto family for the past year.

tasting notes; hurt comfort? idk man, he's in a fuckin' freezer. this is gonna be a long slow-burn series. We don't use Y/N here and we've got a very preestablished storyline going on babes. Eat up.

portion; 3.1k+

possible allergies; SEASON 2 FINALE SPOILERS, I've started writing this before Season 3 comes out in June so we're going WAY off canon (unless I'm an oracle), Mikey is gonna be central baby, any tw you require for the bear-- you require for this.

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns!)

I have not written fanfiction in 5-6 years and once again some goddamn pretty boy just YOINKS me back in. I'm making up my own season three here so I'm kinda flying by the seat of my pants with this series, hopefully it turns out. If it doesn't... C'est la vie, I had fun.

The inciting incident, the thing that pulls you in, and permanently alters the trajectory of your life— Is honestly quite boring, because it’s just a phone call from an old friend.

You stare at your screen for what feels like eons but it’s really just a few rings. It’s enough time to frantically search through blankets on your couch for your remote to pause your show— Which might as well be like 10 years of time. You’re heavily debating not answering; what if it’s something heavy? What if a mutual childhood friend died? What if it’s a love or murder confession? What if it’s about the money you owe her? The money she owes you?

Do you really want to take that kind of call? On what’s been a peaceful Friday night? That’s a rarity in your part of Chicago, c’mon. If it’s important, she’ll leave a voicemail... Who are you kidding, she doesn’t leave voicemails— Frankly, it’s bizarre and concerning that she’s calling in the first place instead of spam texting. …Alright, she’s let it get to the fourth ring, she’s probably dead or dying. You need to pick up.

“…Syd?”

She sounds infinitely stressed, but relieved to hear your voice.“Hey, hey, uh—”

There’s a cacophony of yelling, banging, and what you imagine are kitchen noises in the background. Guess she kept to her guns after Sheridan. That’s nice. Or maybe it’s not. Hard to tell.

“Are you good?” She can’t see the concern on your face or your free arm crossing over your waist— But she can imagine it in the worried lilt of your voice.

“Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah— I-I’m good— Well actually, no, I’m not good, that’s why I’m calling. Actually. Sorry. I know it’s been a minute, it’s fucked up to call only when I need something—”

“Syd.”

“Is your dad still a handy-man?”

Ah. Goodbye peaceful Friday night. Hello emergency hotfix services.

You click your teeth, “Oh, no, he retired. Got a case of… Getting fucking old disease.” But a part of you is relieved it’s a thing that’s broken, and not her. This is at least manageable— Whatever it is.

“Fuck. Okay. Fuck. Ha, yeah, my dad’s got that too— Well, okay, then I’ll talk—”

You’re quick to jump in. “I took over the business though. So, if you’re—" “We need help so bad right now.”

You can’t help but laugh at the speed of it, but immediately feel guilty hearing the desperation in it. “Yeah? Who’s we?”

You stick the cellphone in the crux of your neck, already walking across your apartment to throw on your jumpsuit— Dark navy blue, elbow length sleeves, dad’s old logo embroidered on your right breast pocket.

CHICAGO’S KINDEST ⚒ FIXERS & CO. It’s managed to grow on you.

There’s an egregious number of patches ironed or sewn onto the back and shoulders of it. All from businesses you and your father had either worked with or done odd jobs for. A NASCAR jumpsuit, but for nostalgia and small businesses. Something something ‘it all starts with your neighbourhood’. Your dad would say.

Syd continues, she hasn’t changed much. You hear her sharp dicing in the background, the rhythm seems to calm down into an actual flow instead of erratic speed. You figure either the dinner rush is starting to slow down or she’s relieved you’re coming. Who are you being humble for, no shot it’s the former.

“So, you know how I’m like— Like a chef and shit?”

You hum the affirmative, putting her on speakerphone so you can pull out your tool kit with both hands.

“So like, I actually co-own this restaurant opening tonight.”

“Oh nice!”

“Yeah— Yeah, yeah, it’s really nice, but actually, it’s not, because it’s bad.”

“In the way I can fix?”

“In the way you can fix, yeah. Hopefully.”

“What’s the damage?”

“So, my co-owner uh, Carmen, he got locked in the walk-in. Like trapped.”

You take a beat, a confused one. Half-stepping, almost tripping. You stare at your tools, picking out what you’ll actually need for this— How the fuck— “How is he trapped in the walk-in?”

“So, he meant to call to get it fixed—” “And he didn’t?” “And he didn’t.”

“What was broke about it in the first place?”

“The doorknob on the inside, broke off. And right now, or, more like, 5 minutes ago, the handle on the outside broke off too.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.”

“Do you have the outside handle, still?”

“Yeah. Yeah, laying around somewhere— It snapped off though, like—”

“Clean?”

“Uh…. Y’know, I would check, but I’m actually kinda—"

“Can we run table 36, please, Chefs?!” Now that’s an uncomfortably familiar voice.

“Yes, Chef! …I’m kinda busy.”

“Right. Restaurant. Oh, what fucking restaurant? You said Carmen, that’s that fuckin’ Michelin guy, right?” Berzatto. It has to be. The smallness of this world is a personal prank on you.

“…How do you know that?” Son of a bitch.

“…I try to remember what you like.” It’s a good save, but that was too intimate for 3 years of no contact besides Happy Birthday texts, fuck fuck, recover— “Ahem, uh, Restaurant?”

“The Bear. Formerly The Beef. You do still live in Chicago, right?”

Berzatto. Confirmed. Bleh.

“Fortunate for you, I do. I know The Beef, I’m not far, I’ll be there in ten. Tell him to not have a panic attack, if you get a minute.”

“I will not get a minute. But I love the dream.”

And you’re off. Jumpsuit half zipped over what was supposed to be a sleep shirt but is now posthumously a work shirt. Nobody has to know you’re wearing pajama shorts under this. Carhartt jacket thrown over your shoulders— Your dad’s, so, a bit oversized. Toolbox in hand, utility belt on— Though you’re mildly sure if your hypothesis is right, you will only need your threateningly long sledgehammer.

Thank God for your car. CTA would not like you right now.

You pull up front. Oh boy. The sign change is making you feel a type of way that you were not expecting. Pride? Envy? All seven of the deadly sins? Maybe. No time to stew on it because there’s an older woman smoking and having an emotional spat with who you assume is her shivering son out front. So. Definitely going through the back alley instead of getting in the middle of that shit.

Alas, it’s not any better, because there’s Syd, vomiting next to a dumpster.

“Better to ignore or acknowledge you in this moment?” Is the response you decide is best, despite the question, you’re already by her side. You put your tools down (out of the splash zone) and rub her back with one hand, holding back straying braids with the other.

“I couldn’t—” More vomit. “Fuckin’ tell ya.” Syd takes a few deep breathes before standing. She considers going in for a hug, but remembers, the vomit. “Good to see you. I want to catch up, f’real, but—” “The bear in the walk-in?” “The bear in the walk-in.”

You nod, fishing through your pocket. You hand her a mini container of Tums. She waves it off, of course, and you double down, of course, “Who you acting tough for?”

“Fuckin… No one.” She grimaces, taking the box. She makes a show of taking one, like a fussy kid.

You refuse to take it back. “Keep it.”

“Never stopped being the mom friend, eh?”

You laugh, picking up your tools again. “Listen, there’s no telling what the night and your stomach holds. Lead the way?”

The Bear is pretty, or at least the kitchen of it is, so far. It’s clean. Cleaner than it used to be. The death trap walk-in is really the only eyesore for you. You stare at the broken-off handle in your hand, twisting it back and forth to look at all the angles. It’s honestly a pretty clean break.

Sydney’s left to talk to her dad, as she should, and the rest of the kitchen is either too busy to pay you mind or is just silently relieved to see you.

Tina— Who has thankfully opted to not say ‘Hey, good to see you, it’s been a year, what the fuck’—Taps the walk-in door and says to this elusive Michelin Carmen that she’ll be right back, that help’s here. He does not seem to register this at all. She gently slaps your cheek before rushing back to her station, regardless.

“Maybe I’m just not built for this, maybe, maybe that’s okay— Maybe that just is.”

You’ve never said his name to him, it feels heavy on your tongue. “Carmen.”

“Right? What the fuck was I thinking?”

Alright, he’s too far gone. You flag down one of the cooks that are just shadowing for the night. “Hey, can you hold this in place for me?”

You stick the handle into what’s left of the hinge still attached to the door, which is, not much— But hopefully, again, if your hypothesis is correct, it’ll give enough leverage. The cook holds it in place, a little terrified as your sledgehammer comes into view.

“Not gonna hit you, promise.”

“—I’m a fuckin’ psycho. That’s why. That’s why I’m good at what I do.”

You tap (bang) the hammer on the door, enough to stop his train of thought. For a second, at least. “Sweetheart, I need you to stand up for me, Carmen Chef Sir.”

“…Tony?”

“...Who the fuck is Tony?”

The meek cook beside you speaks up, “He means Tommy.”

And Tina is quick to yell from across the kitchen— hearing how? We don’t know. “It’s Terry!”

“I am none of these people.” You sigh, readying the hammer. “Carmen, can you stand up, and just tuck your fingers in the wedge of the door? If there is one?”

“Heard. Yeah.” There’s shuffling from in there, getting into position. Though the steps and the words seem dazed, as he’s forced out of a mental fog. “Here.”

“This isn’t a fix by the way. Your whole door is fucked after this. Not that it isn’t already, but, y’know.” You back up, teeing yourself up before running forward.

“Well, wait—”

You slam the mallet into the tip of the handle perfectly, forcing it way too tight into the gap of the hinge. You push the cook aside with your hip, now using the long handle of the mallet to stick between the knob and the door, using it as further leverage to pull it open. It is incredibly straining.

“Carmy!” Is it okay to say that nickname before you’ve even seen his face? Eh. You’re moving the boulder, he’ll forgive you. “You feel air?!”

“Holy shit— Yeah, yeah— Push?!” “Of course fucking push!”

And it becomes apparent in this exchange of force that this Head Chef must be significantly stronger than you, because it’s opening a lot faster now. Though, fast is a strong word for the snail pace this is happening at. But it’s more than the nothing that was happening a minute ago.

“Aye… Cousin?” Richie, in a… suit? Runs up to you, coming from front of house. He immediately grabs a free spot on the sledgehammer’s handle to help pull. He was shocked to see you doing, well, this, right now, but then upon registering, he’s just shocked to see you. Period.

You can only groan in response, sticking a leg up and putting your foot on the wall as if it’s gonna add meaningful leverage— Oh wait, it kinda is. “Y'clean up good, Rich— Opening going—Fuck— well?”

“Oh yeah, fucking peachy.” He can only manage to wheeze in reply. Investing his strength in yanking rather than reintroductions; thankfully it pays off.

The hinge shoots open, you would have absolutely fallen on your ass if Richie was not ready to stabilize you. The walk-in door cracks open. Just a bit. It’s not dramatic, it’s just a breath.

It’s so anti-climactic that Richie doesn’t mind walking off to cheer before Carmen even comes out. Clapping your back as he does. “That’s what I like to fuckin’ see, Cousin! Ingenuity!”

Though, to be fair, he’s moving to intercept a very sweet looking, worried girl. You look up at her, wheezing as you keel over slightly to catch your breath, hands on your knees. She’s saying something along the lines of ‘What’s going on?’ ‘Is he okay?’ Girlfriend? Probably. Richie seems to be coaxing her accordingly. You turn your head back to the door. Carmen hasn’t come out yet. That’s a red flag. With another wheeze, you stand up right, opening the door further, peeking in.

He's standing there, catatonic. Not looking at you, but straight forward, beyond you. He must’ve been by the door to push it open but now he’s stumbled against the back shelf. Every time his girl’s voice manages to ring into here, his eyes crinkle— Wince. His breath keeps hitching. He looks afraid. It is better to be caged right now than it is to be out there, doing whatever he could be doing, right now. Talking to anyone might be a death sentence, right now.

“I don’t need to provide amusement or enjoyment. I don’t need to receive any amusement or enjoyment. I’m completely fine with that.” He mumbles repeatedly. You can barely hear it over the buzzing of the freezer.

Whispering it just for himself, like some sort of fucked up mantra. Like it’s a state of inner peace to feel this bad. You doubt he even sees you right now.

You know you don’t know Carmy personally. Mostly just through hearsay.

He’s never met or heard of you, that’s for sure.

But you know Berzattos. Or. Knew the one.

And you know a downward spiral. Intimately.

And you know that right now, he’s fucking cold. He is shivering and making no move to leave that state. You think he thinks that’s the state he deserves to stay in.

Nothing to lose but a good first impression, right? You drop a screwdriver in the doorway as a doorstop— Because how fucking dumb would it be if you both got stuck? And. Extremely slowly, you approach him not unlike approaching an actual captive bear. In your eyes, you might as well be.

Standing right in front of him doesn’t stop his mantra. You slip your jacket off, half hugging him to drape it over his shoulders. “You’re just cold.”

“I’m a—” “You’re just. Cold.” You cut him off before he has the chance to self-deprecate again, smoothing out the sleeves on him. His eyes readjust to actually look at you rather than somewhere beyond.

You sniff. You’re already cold and it’s been 30 seconds. This poor thing. You rub your hands together, breathing hot air into them before touching them to his frigid fucking face. “Fuck you’re really cold. Like danger cold.”

Never being one for boundaries or hesitation, you hug yourself to him. It’s the fastest way to warm him up. You slip your hands under the jacket— Your jacket— And just engulf the Italian Popsicle Man before you.

Shockingly, he doesn’t push you off or suddenly reawaken to his senses and tell you to fuck off. He doesn’t flinch, if anything he leans in. His body doesn’t really have time for surprise, right now, it just takes what it needs. And what it needs is warmth and oxytocin. His breathing slowly but surely self regulates, and once you start to remember decorum you lower your arms— But. He opts to place his chin on your shoulder, like the world’s most gentle hook, and that alone is enough to keep you there.

It's a long, silent, liminal spacey moment before he speaks again. Both of you speak just above the decibel of the freezer's buzzing.

“You’re not Tony.”

“Terry.”

“You’re Terry?”

“No, Tina said Tony’s Terry. I don’t know who the fuck Terry is.”

“Terry’s the fridge guy.”

“You’re still going to need to call him; I did just make it worse.”

“That’s fine.” He swallows. “Who called you?”

“Syd.”

“Should’ve called you earlier.”

“Should’ve called the fridge guy earlier.”

“Yeah.” He sighs, but he makes no move to move, so you don’t either.

“You know Mikey too?”

Ah. The patch. The Beef. It's worn, but it sits proudly on the left shoulder of your jumpsuit. Your heart tightens and so does your posture.

“Yeah.” You sigh. It’s shakier than you’d like it to be. “Dad knew him, so then I knew him, so then I occasionally fixed shit for him. Shit that ‘Fak couldn’t?’ I think his name was?”

“Hm.” He hums. “He ever got locked in the walk-in?”

“Yeah, he really fucked it up, like waayy worse than whatever happened with you tonight. Like whatever happened. At least 10 times worse.” Your voice is coated with sarcasm, but it’s not entirely untrue.

You’re relieved, when Carmen laughs at this, a touch maniacally, but it’s something. Right now, any emotion from him besides regret and anxiety feels like a trophy. He straightens up, pushing his hair back, so you remove your arms.

“You’re fuckin’ funny, Tony.”

“Still not Tony.”

“Oh my god!” A blonde, very pregnant woman cracks the door open, relieved. “Are you okay, Bear?” You step aside so she can hug Carmen, holding his cheeks to look over him. Oh, this has to be—

“I’m good, I’m great, Sug.” He says this incredibly unconvincingly, hanging one hand on her wrist.

But what matters more in your brain right now is: That’s Sugar. Natalie.

And now you can put a face to both siblings you’ve been bitched about to.

Chain-smoker, means well, cringeworthy husband, too good for her family, incredibly judgemental, cares too much and worries more, loves to fight, her mother’s daughter, pushy, sticks her foot in her mouth, can’t take no for an answer, would lay down her life. Natalie Berzatto. Little sister.

Michelin Star retaining, big shot, sensitive, definitely a virgin, ball buster, sweats the small stuff, sweetheart, asshole, incredibly smart, flighty, coward, deeply loyal, whiny, screamer, show-off, fantastic drawer, shell, mister new york, annoyingly humble, undeniably the most talented. Carmen Berzatto. Baby brother.

Mikey’s words. Of course.

Nat turns her gaze over to you, “Thank you.” You can only bring yourself to nod in reply, a bit awkward— Lost in your rolodex of memories of the people you’ve never actually met until right now. It’s weird to feel parasocial about a normal person.

“Our toilet, exploded.” She says.

Now that pulls out you of it, and gets a laugh out of you. You put your hand over your mouth. “Yeah?”

Sugar shakes her head, eyes widening like she’s just stepped in it, “I didn’t mean like— Like, you just did a job, right, that’s like tacking on another last-minute service—”

“That’s fine.” You put a hand up stopping her from continuing, still chuckling. “I’ll take a look at it tonight and try to fix it tomorrow?”

She nods, smiling bright, “Thank you, Tommy.”

Who needs to use Y/N when you have the fridge guy?

I so desperately hope you liked this first chapter. I've been stewing on this for like a week so I beg of you to reply/reblog/send me an ask (anon or not!!) telling me what you thought!! Unless it's mean!! In which case, do NOT!!!

And just a forewarning, as we step into uncharted territory where the walk-in meltdown was cut short, I need you to hold my hand through it bb. We're making this man's life better or we're gonna die trying.

Next Part

#carmen berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #the bear x you #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto imagine

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arkhammaid · 6 months

Text

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ OF BROKEN RECORDS AND A GOLDEN FUTURE.

fandom. formula one

pairing. max verstappen x stunt woman fem!reader (fc: giulia steingruber)

about. y/n l/n is one of hollywood's best stunt women and her boyfriend is the biggest fan of her work

content warnings. social media au, not edited/proofread

notes. we're back with yet another max smau, y'all really love him (i do as well). unlike my first smau, i'm not completely satisfied with this one but better this than nothing 😭

VOGUE has posted a new video!

Y/N Y/L/N answers 10 Questions | Vogue

user woah, i didn't know y/n was training for the freaking olympics??

⤷ user it makes sense, gymnastics gave her a solid foundation, if not an advantage over other stunt women/people

⤷ user no wonder she's so highly sought after

user in another universe i just know she won the olympics

user until today, i've never heard of y/n but her achievements are crazyyyy. and to think of, she has at least another ten years if not more in the industry

⤷ user right?? she's absolutely insane, always going up to her limit and still surpassing herself everytime. her work is really admirable

user MOTHER Y/N IS IN VOGUE, WE WON

YOURUSERNAME

liked by maxverstappen1, dc, angelinajolie and 108'337 others

yourusername I'm proud to announce another project for 2025! I'll be working alongside @/dc to portray Black Canary's stunts in the newest Green Arrow movie. We still have a long way to go, but we've already achieved so much. If you're interested in some BTS scenes, watch out for the newest video, where I take you all on a small tour on set!

user MOTHER IS MOTHERING AAAAAHHH

user SHE'S BLACK CANARY FUCK YES

user oh i just know the fighting scenes will slay

dc We couldn't imagine a better stunt woman for our Black Canary!

user we have to wait a whole year 🫠

angelinajolie It's always a pleasure to work with you, Y/n! To an Oscar-worthy movie 👏

⤷ yourusername To an Oscar-worthy movie and other awards 🙌

user y/n is so fucking broad 😳

⤷ user she could choke me with her arms- *gets shot*

⤷ user no no, please continue

maxverstappen1 So, so proud of you, schatje ❤️

⤷ yourusername Right back at you, my champion 💙

user THE RED/BLUE HEARTS MADE A RETURN

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YOURUSERNAME

liked by maxverstappen1, chrishemsworth and 199'563 others

yourusername I can't believe it... Furiosa has been nominated for 7 Taurus World Stunt Awards and won 5 of them. It has been an absolute honor to work alongside my collegues for this movie

user SHE WON BEST OVERALL STUNT BY A STUNT WOMAN AND BEST WORK WITH A VEHICLE THAT'S 2 OUT OF 5 AWARDS FOR A WHOLE MOVIE OH MY GOOOOOODDDD

maxverstappen1 I never doubted you. So incredibly proud of you ❤️

⤷ yourusername I couldn't have done it without you by my side, Maxy 💙

⤷ maxverstappen1 Doubtful.

⤷ maxverstappen1 Just accept the compliment, schatje

⤷ maxverstappen1 You're the most incredible woman I know, your drive and passion are admirable- why do you think I love you so much?

⤷ maxverstappen1 I love you and I'm very proud of you❤️

⤷ yourusername And now I'm sobbing... I love you too, so so much

user i came here to have a great time with y/n winning awards but now i'm in fetal position, rocking myself I FEEL SO FUCKING SINGLE

user STOP THIS, WHY DOES HE HAVE TO BE SO JSADFHJBJH

user there is no bigger y/n fan than max verstappen...

⤷ user if y/n has no fans left, max verstappen is dead...

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MAXVERSTAPPEN1

liked by redbullracing, yourusername and 1'487'729 others

maxverstappen1 Nothing better than ending a glorious season with you by my side. Schatje, to more broken records and a golden future ❤️

yourusername To more broken records and a golden future with you 💙

yourusername Love you, love you, love you so so much 💙💙💙

comments on this post have been limited

taglist. @lilypadlover, @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @namgification , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @lupicalbestwolf , @akiraquote

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).

ARKHAM MAID 2024

#f1 smau #f1 fic #f1 x reader #max verstappen smau #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #mv33 x reader #mv1 x reader #mv1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 scenario #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations

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linghxr · 8 months

Text

Advice I would give my past self about studying Chinese

Recently I've been reflecting on my Chinese learning journey and how far I've come. If I could go back in time, these are 10 things I would tell my past self. A few are specific to Chinese, but most can apply to any language

It will get so much easier to learn new characters. I remember feeling overwhelmed because learning new characters was a painful process. Now when I encounter a new character, I can remember it with relative ease—it’s just a new combination of familiar components.

Don't feel bad about having uneven development in different skills. My listening and reading are significantly stronger than my speaking and writing. It’s super common and nothing to be ashamed of.

The best way to get over being too embarrassed to speak is to experience some embarrassment and realize it’s not a big deal. I used to be so afraid of making mistakes that I would avoid speaking in class. It was only by being forced to speak that I got over it. I'm much better for it!

It’s impossible to learn everything, and time is limited. You have to prioritize. You probably don’t need to know how to say “pawnshop” in Chinese, and trying to jam your head full of 100 words you saw once won’t work. They won’t stick.

It will actually be harder to read pinyin than to read characters at some point. When I helped a friend with a script for her Chinese class, I really struggled because she had written it entirely in pinyin. I had to write out the characters to read without stumbling! I know characters are daunting for beginners, but trust me, you will get used to them.

If you haven’t practiced or learned something, of course you won’t be good at it. I remember feeling so frustrated trying to navigate Chinese websites for the first time. In retrospect, obviously, I was going to struggle with something completely new to me!

If something isn’t sticking, move on. Why waste time on a word that’s not clicking when you could be learning five new ones? It will only result in unnecessary frustration. So unless you need to know it for your class or a proficiency test, drop it and move on.

Don’t beat yourself up when you have trouble understanding music, literature, different accents, etc. These can be challenging even in your native language. Of course you’re going to struggle more in a new language.

It's worth it to pay attention to things like stroke order and tones from the start so you don't form bad habits. Don’t stress about get it perfect, but it’s easier to do it right the first time than to have to correct your bad habits in the future.

Instead of feeling overwhelmed by all that you don’t know, learn how to express yourself with what you do know. It’s truly its own skill that requires practice. After all, in life you can’t always stop and pull out a dictionary.

I started learning Chinese a really long time ago, but I became more serious about it in 2018, so 5 1/2 years ago. I'm very proud of how far I've come, but I still have a long way to go! I look forward to revisiting this post in another couple of years 😊

#my learning #study tips and advice #chinese #mandarin #mandarin chinese #chinese language #studyblr #langblr #learning languages #language learning #chinese langblr #mandarin langblr #languageblr

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cryptidghostgirl · 7 months

Note

Heya! I just found you and I knew that I immediately had to put in a request!! May I ask for Alastor x chubby reader?? With hurt and comfort?? Where a random demon makes her feel bad for being chubby and Alastor comforts her AND CONFESSES that he's in love with her 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ and then in true Alastor fashion he rips the demon apart for making reader feel bad PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

A/N of course!! this is good vibes. yes. 11/10 for the adorable scale. I've been writing so much angst,, the fluff request is so welcome. ALSO THIS GIF I FOUND FOR THE IMAGE OF THIS STORY IS SO CUTE WTF.

Sweet (Alastor x Chubby!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Hurt//comfort, tw for body image stuff/issues, gore but make it cute, uh... fluff. Sickeningly sweet fluff. Extra TW body image stuff. May or may not have channeled some of my ten years experience with eds into this one besties, sorry about that.

Word Count: 3,330

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

The truth of it was: Y/n knew exactly how pretty she was. That didn't keep it from hurting when people made unprovoked, snide remarks about her weight. More than one thing can be true at the same time.

She was kind of used to it by now. People in the human world had been rude on occasion, she'd had doctors occasionally act discriminatorily towards her because of her weight, a shitty date or partner or two who told her to lose it, but it had been nothing in comparison to Hell. It was Hell after all, home to the worst of the worst. Y/n tried to toughen up, thicken her skin. After a life on earth and another fifteen years down below she couldn't help but feel like it shouldn't hurt anymore. It still always did.

This one had been particularly bad. Y/n had stepped out of the hotel, intent on meeting a friend for lunch. She'd gotten all dressed up for it too, in her favorite outfit with her makeup done all pretty. She hadn't just felt good stepping out, she'd known she was hot. There had been a spring in her step and a coy smile on her face as she lowered her heart shaped sunglasses from the top of her head.

Five minutes, four blocks. That's all it took.

"Jesus, who let you outside in that?" the man had laughed, "Cover that shit up, I'm gonna vomit."

Y/n had sent her friend a text, saying she wasn't feeling well. She had apologized and asked to reschedule. Y/n had gone home.

Angel Dust had tried to approach her as she had stormed into the lobby but, she had brushed him off, rushing to her room. Y/n hand't meant to be rude. She had every intention of finding him later to apologize, the tears had just been pressing hotly behind her eyes and she needed to be alone. She loved Angel, trusted him, through of him as a brother but god, she did not want to cry in front of him. Not right now anyways, not over something so... so... stupid.

Y/n slammed the door to her room harshly behind her as she entered it, throwing herself onto the bed and burying her face in the pillow. In the comfort of pinks and piles of stuffed animals, she sobbed.

It wasn't even the comment that was getting to her anymore, although it had been a particularly awful one. No, what was upsetting her now was how she'd let it get to her. She felt stupid and weak and more than anything in the world she just wanted to rip the clothes off her body along with her skin and disappear from the physical world.

Her shoulders shook harshly, the pillow now damp. She was sure her makeup was a mess but didn't care. It wasn't like anyone was going to see her anyways, not until tomorrow at least. Y/n was trying to get redeemed but she wasn't trying to get made fun of. If she could keep this to herself, she was going to.

It wasn't that she didn't trust the others in the hotel. Y/n actually trusted them more than about anyone she'd met in Hell up to this point. They were kind and caring, invested in themselves and one another even if they pretended they weren't. There was just the fear. There was always the fear, the internal need for perfection, to show no weakness.

Almost as if the universe was fucking with her, as if it could tell exactly what she didn't want, there was a knock at the door. Y/n groaned audibly into the pillow. Of course, just when she wanted to be left alone. The knock came again and she slowly sat up, still sniffling and hurriedly wiping her eyes.

"Uh, yeah." she called, trying her best to keep her voice from trembling and praying she didn't look too much of a mess even if it was probably just Charlie or Angel, "It's open. Sorry."

Y/n's eyes widened slightly in shock as Alastor opened the door. Out of everyone in the hotel, he was probably the person she knew the least. She made the effort of course. Despite knowing his status and his history, she tried to play nice and make friends. It was he who avoided her, not the other way around.

To be perfectly honest, Alastor made Y/n a bit nervous. It wasn't because of his reputation. They were in Hell for heaven's sake, everyone had one of those. No, it was the way her heart beat a little faster when he was in the room. It was the way that every time she looked at him, she secretly hoped she'd catch him looking at her too.

Alastor had never been in Y/n's room before. It was all satin and pink and lace. He couldn't help but think it suited her to a t. It was all perfect, she was perfect. Except here she was crying, just as Angel had said she might be.

What had happened was this: Alastor had over heard Angel saying something to Husk. They were at the bar, Angel was drinking as always, and saying he was worried about Y/n. Alastor had pressed and when Alastor pressed, he always got his way. Apparently Y/n had come back to the hotel mere minutes after having left to go get lunch with a friend. Angel said she had seemed really agitated, genuinely upset.

That had made Alastor angry. Not normal angry more delicate than that, more minute. It made him upset, he hurt for Y/n in her theoretical pain. He wasn't used to this whole feeling things thing. His body on autopilot, Alastor himself had been surprised when he found himself before her door, poised to knock.

Y/n watched him, her eyes glassy and her cheeks flushed. There were dark circles of mascara beneath her eyes that matched the stains on her pillow behind her and her pretty dress had a few wrinkles in it.

"Whatever is the matter, my dear?" Alastor asked, stepping fully in to the room.

"Oh, nothing." Y/n tried to brush him off, looking away towards the window as she pulled a stuffed animal into her lap.

It was her trembling lip that gave her away. Alastor let the door fall shut behind him. Y/n turned as she felt the bed dip beside her, her mouth slightly open.

"I would advise you not to lie to me."

He hadn't meant for it to sound like that. He saw the way Y/n stiffened instinctually at his words, at his tone. Alastor didn't know how to exist in a non threatening way, its how he'd lived his whole life in this world and the one before it. It was how he protected himself. He took a breath.

"What I mean," he slowly corrected himself, "is that you don't need to lie. I..."

He cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the way he was forcing himself to be honest. Honesty was, however, the only option. He saw the way Y/n's gaze was distant, her body tense. For the first time in his life, he wanted to help someone else. It was strange. Alastor submitted himself to the oddity of it all, the discomfort. It was his gift to her.

"I'm here to help."

"I..." Y/n trailed off, big wet tears pooling in her eyes, "It's nothing. I'm okay, really. It's stupid."

With a gentleness that surprised both of them, Alastor lifted a hand to her face, wiping a stray tear. He held it on the tip of his finger before his eyes, examining the way a jeweler would a diamond.

"If it's upsetting you this deeply, it's not stupid."

That was the last straw. Y/n, unable to hold herself back any longer, collapsed into his chest. Her body shook with sobs. Alastor held his arms out, unsure of what to do with them. It took him a second to comply with her unspoken request, wrapping them around her. He found himself rubbing small circles on her back, trying to soothe her.

There was a reason Alastor avoided Y/n and it was that the demoness made him feel things. Things he was unaccustomed to feeling, things that felt dangerous in their warmth and care. Bubbly little things that got caught in his chest and tied up his tongue. If he had thought about his actions, he wouldn't have come to her side but he hadn't and so, here he was. This was all unknown territory, he felt blind and alone in the dark. Alastor didn't like that.

They stayed like that for several minutes until Y/n was finally able to regain some control of her breathing. She calmed herself methodically, as if it was a ritual she was well practiced in. Alastor found himself wondering how many times she had felt like this, reacted to something in her life like this, and had no one there to hold her. He didn't like that thought. He couldn't decide what was worse, if no one ever had been there or if there was someone else who she wanted in times like this, someone other than him. Someone better, more well versed in the delicate intricacies of emotion.

She lifted herself from his chest, his arms falling from her back to his sides as she wiped the last few stray tears.

"I'm sorry." she half laughed, "I don't know what came over me... and I've ruined your suit."

Alastor looked down. There were indeed black stains from her running makeup on his jacket. Normally such a thing would irritate him to no end, anger him even. It was Y/n who had made them however and so, he didn't care. He turned back to her, shaking his head slightly.

"Nothing a wash can't fix. Now, why don't you tell me what happened?"

"It's stupid." Y/n shook her head, her eyes finding her hands in her lap.

She still held the stuffed animal there, a rabbit. She fiddled with it's ears absent mindedely, twisting them and rubbing them in a practiced manner.

"Y/n." Alastor gently warned and she sighed.

"It's just... something someone said to me. That's all."

Alastor's brow furrowed slightly at the notion.

"What did they say? Who was it?"

The words had fallen from him quicker than he had meant them to, more earnestly. He was grateful Y/n seemed to stuck in her own world to notice such a thing.

"Just some asshole making a comment about my weight. Saying that I shouldn't wear what I wear, saying the sight of me made them nauseous. The normal dickwad stuff. I should be used to it by now, I've been chubby all my life but... I don't know. It still just makes me want to disappear. To rip myself apart by the fistful, you know?"

Y/n looked up at Alastor when he didn't respond, her cheeks red with embaressment.

"I told you, it's du-"

"Who the fuck said it?" he asked through gritted teeth, trying his best to remain calm.

"Alastor, it's fine." Y/n sighed, "I don't know why you're getting so worked up about it. Like I said, I've heard it all before."

She made to turn back to the plushie in her lap but before she could, Alastor cupped her face gently in his hands.

"Al... what are you..."

"Y/n, you are stunning."

There he went again, not thinking. Y/n was dangerous, to be avoided. She paraded around in her sweet sundresses and angelic disposition, practically unfit to have been sent to Hell in the first place. She was the simple syrup in lemonade, she was the best mixed drink.

Her tongue ran gently over her lips, an innocent and thoughtless gesture on her part that sent his mind reeling as she mulled over his words. Her brow furrowed.

"Alastor, I-"

"You are the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on, living or dead."

There he went again, his tongue a million miles ahead of his brain. Y/n let out a light laugh, her head still in his hands.

"What?" Alastor asked, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks, "I mean it."

"I thought you hated me." Y/n confessed.

"Far from it, my sweet."

His voice was barley more than a whisper. Y/n looked away.

"You drive me to distraction."

Her presence was like some strange truth serum rushing through his veins, now he had started, he couldn't seem to stop.

"I've never... You're unlike anyone I've ever met. You shine in this dark place."

"Alastor, this is a lot." Y/n admitted after a moment.

"My apologies." he let go of her face, his heart sinking, "I did not intend to make you feel worse."

He should have known. Alastor, in his foolish frenzy, had forgotten himself, his legacy, his persona. How could someone as sweet as a sun ripened strawberry stolen straight from the bush feel anything towards him save fear?

"I'll go."

Alastor made to get up, had every intent to actually leave and give Y/n her space. At the felling of her small hand on his arm, he paused and turned back to her.

Y/n's face was bright red, she refused to meet his gaze. Her arm not holding him was wrapped tightly around her stuffed animal like a charm.

"No, please." she took a deep breath, meeting his eyes once again at last, "I... I think... you're rather... handsome... as well."

Her speech was halting, uncertain in its anxiety. His smile widened.

"You do now, do you?" he asked, lifting her head a little higher with a finger beneath her chin.

"Oh hush." she scolded him, "If anyone was going to lie out of the pair of us, I'm pretty sure it'd be you. I am trying to be redeemed, in case you've forgotten, and you probably just want my soul or some shit."

"How can I prove to you that the only way I want your soul is given willingly and out of contract?"

Y/n laughed again, a genuine joy.

"Pinky promise me."

She held up a hand and Alastor quickly locked pinkies with her.

"I meant every word I said. I've had... eyes for you for a while now. You are the rosy fingered dawn. You are... you're you. You are Y/n."

"I am Y/n, aren't I." she smiled cockily back.

It was a relief to see her return to her normal confident self.

"I meant everything I said too. I've... I've had eyes for you too, or whatever."

She looked away, her cheeks even brighter pink than before. Alastor let go of her pinky and, leaning forward, pressed a soft and tentative kiss to the top of their head. Y/n immediately snapped her head back to him. Before he could register what was happening, she had tackled him in a hug, throwing them both to the bed.

Looking down at him from her perch on his lap, she smiled brightly.

"Can I kiss you?"

The question took him by surprise. He had never kissed anyone before save the tender kiss on the cheek reserved for dear friends and close family. He hesitated in indecision, in uncertainty.

"You're allowed to say no." Y/n followed up, noticing his apparent discomfort, "I don't want to move things too fast for you."

Alastor shook his head, the truth of his own desire unexpected even to him.

"No. You can."

Y/n's smile widened as they dipped down, pecking him on the lips. His cheeks warmed as she straightened herself up again, her hands pressed flat against his chest.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that for."

She smelled sweet, she looked sweet, god, she probably even tasted sweet. His tongue darted out of his mouth across his lips jus ever so slightly, the flavor of her strawberry lipgloss fueling his infatuation.

"Do that again."

It didn't take long for Alastor to track down the demon in question that had sent Y/n spiraling that afternoon. After their promise had been made and she had agreed to the date he had proposed for the next day, she had spilled everything. Her head in his lap as he had run his fingers through her hair, she had complained liberally about the demon. Her complaints had, thankfully, included a full description of the man.

Once the hour was late and he was sure she was fast asleep along with everyone else in the hotel, Alastor had slipped out onto the streets. The demon was, of course, easy to locate. He was loud and distinctive. Alastor found him drunk in a bar harassing a woman. He watched, waiting patiently until the man left and when he did, Alastor followed him.

He cornered the demon, sending his shadows to torment the man. He was on his knees close to tears by the time Alastor finally decided to join in on the fun. He leered down at the demon, grinning from ear to ear.

"I heard you said something rather cruel today." he hummed.

"I didn't!" the man pleaded, "I swear!"

"Not even to a pretty little demon in heart shaped sunglasses?"

The man's eyes widened slightly in obvious recollection.

"I... fuck, I didn't know. I swear, I didn't know who she was. I didn't know she was with you!"

Alastor stretched in the darkness of the ally, his horns growing thorny and tall as he entered his true demon form. The man trembled in fear. It was pathetic, truly.

"It doesn't matter. You ruined her plans for the day and so, in return, I am going to ruin you."

With those final words, he pounced. The tongue of the man was the first thing to go, ripped with great force from his throat and tossed to the side.

Next were his ears, Alastor tore them from his head slowly. The man screamed, a choked and guttural sound through the blood in his throat. Alastor laughed shamelessly, his claws finding a home in the demon's stomach next.

He disemboweled the man with ease, careful to keep everything connected so he was still alive. Then, he went for the eyes, gouging them out in harsh slashing movements. Alastor straightened himself, looking down upon his mess of a creation.

"I would say that next time you will think before saying something like that again but, I think we both know there wont be a next time."

A strange sound left the demons throat, obviously a plea of mercy. Without a tongue, he could not articulate his wishes.

"What?" Alastor asked, putting a hand to his ear as he slowly returned to his normal appearance, "I am sorry but could you say that again? I couldn't quite make it out."

Another strangled, desperate sound left the man's throat. Alastor laughed.

"Well, I've given you a chance to beg for your life and you have chosen not to take it." he taunted, leaning back over the man, "I supposed that means you have opted for death. Very well."

In a single, swift movement he tore the man's throat from his neck. The demon twitched under him for a few seconds longer before at last stilling in death. Alastor examined his work for a moment before pulling himself to his feet. Without a glance back towards the body, he straightened his jacket and let his shadows take him from the ally.

Y/n was under his protection now. He had tried so long to avoid the call, the weakness, her charms pulling him in. At long last, he had succumbed and under his watch, no one was going to ever make her feel anything less than perfect ever again.

----

A/N This is the first time I have ever written something like this, I hope it was okay.

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my-mind-is-incognito · 14 days

Text

Wanna Duet? (Hugh Jackman x Reader)

summary: you're an interviewer sitting down with 2 of the hottest celebrities, both fresh off their latest movie. during the interview, one of them feels the need to shake up the script a bit

warnings: None that I can think of, other than intense yearning for an unattainable man (tbh isn't that why we read and write these sort of things anyway?)

author's note: Um, hi. It's been a couple of years since I've contributed to this site and this particular blog, other than reblogging other people's much more notable work. But the new deadpool movie, as well as Hugh Jackman, has literally got me hostage by the ovaries and I just needed to put this random fantasy into words and put it out there into the world. Please be gentle. I haven't written anything in years and it is so weird to me now.

When you call my name

It’s like a little prayer

I’m down on my knees

I wanna take you there

In the midnight hour

I can feel your power

Just like a prayer

I wanna take you there

The lyrics to that familiar song softly tumbled from your lips as you studied the notecards in your hand while your shoulders softly rocked to the beat. You wanted to make sure the questions were etched in your brain; as a journalist tasked with interviewing celebrities, you needed to maintain your A-game when it came to these video shoots with the Hollywood elite. You couldn’t afford to stumble over your words or, even worse, have an awkward silence creep into the conversation.

A knock at the door brought you out of your reverie, and Maggie, the producer, poked her head in. “They just arrived,” she informed you. “Ten minutes.”

You flashed her a thumbs up and got out of your seat to loosen your stiff muscles and fight the enormous grin spreading across your face. Today’s scheduled shoot was one you were particularly looking forward to: a simple sit down interview with two of the hottest stars, fresh off the premiere of one of the most anticipated movies of 2024. Somewhere on the premises, Hugh Jackman and Ryan Reynolds were waiting to speak to you, and your Marvel-loving heart was hammering in your chest in anticipation. The butterflies were certainly in hyperactive manic mode today.

Maggie studied you with a laugh. “Excited, are we?”

“Aren’t you? We’re about to meet Deadpool and Wolverine!” You took a few deep breaths, channeling your professional side. But soon, the facade fell and you were grinning like a jittery idiot. ”How are they? Are they as ridiculously gorgeous in person?”

Maggie grinned. “Yes, plus super nice. Definitely making the top 10 nicest guests list. Hurry up and get out there.” She then left and shut the door behind her.

Biting back the urge to squeal, you took a few composing breaths and willed your heart to stop racing like a schoolgirl in love. Picking up your phone, you started scrolling your phone for a song. Singing was always a typical warm-up exercise for you; it helped you loosen up and provided an outlet for your nervous energy. Showtunes were usually your go-to songs, and you had a particular soundtrack stuck in your head for the past few weeks.

“Ladies and gents, this is the moment you’ve waited for,” you sang softly, shimmying your hips to the beat of the song. “Been searching in the dark, your sweat soaking through the floor.” Another hip wiggle on beat as you spun on your heel and held out a dramatic fist in the air. “And buried in your bones, there’s an ache that you can’t ignore, taking your breath, stealing your mind, and all that was real is left behind…

Don’t fight it’s coming for you, runnin’ at ya

It’s only this moment, don’t care what comes after

Your fever dream, can’t you see it gettin’ closer?

just surrender cuz you feel the feeling takin’ over

It’s fire, it’s freedom, it’s flooding open

It’s a preacher in the pulpit and your blind devotion

There’s something breaking at the brick of every wall it’s holding

All that you know

So tell me, do you wanna go?

Where it’s covered in all the colored lights

Where the runaways are running the night

Impossible comes tre, it’s taking over you

Oh, this is the greatest show!

We light it up, we won’t come down

And the sun can’t stop us now

Impossible comes true, it’s taking over you

Oh, this is the greatest show!”

You blew out one more calming breath and grinned with confidence before striding out the door. Time to get to work.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So I’m sitting there, my brain melting in my skull from all these fucking hot wings, and the first sentence out of my mouth is ‘I CHEAT AT WORDLE!’”

You and Hugh burst out into laughter as Ryan recounted his and Hugh’s recent experience on Hot Ones. As expected, the interview was going without a hitch. Both men were excellent subjects, genuinely enjoying the process and providing laughs amongst the crew in between the Q+A. Their bestie banter and overall chemistry was so contagious that it brought everyone at ease. And also as expected, both men gave you the urge to subtly fan yourself with your notecards. While both had the leading man looks, Ryan had a dry wit and a delivery that was deadpan and entirely on point, never failing to get a laugh from everyone in the room. Meanwhile, Hugh had a megawatt smile and an Aussie timber in his voice that had you shivering in your chair, and his laughter was as warm and pure as sunshine itself.

“So, Hugh, you’ve mentioned how you were still doing Music Man when you were cast to return as Wolverine. Did the mental and physical preparation for this role clash with your preparations for your Music Man performances?”

Hugh chuckled. “It’s funny you mentioned that, because I had actually lost a bit of weight while doing Music Man. I mean, it’s eight shows a week and each show is a cardio workout like nothing else! So I had to start increasing my calories and, you know, pumping iron in between shows and it got to the point where I actually split my pants onstage during a show!”

You gasped while Ryan just shook his head and laughed. “Yes, the legendary Jackman ass returned, as jacked as ever!” Ryan snarked, which had Hugh guffawing. “Oh, easy there, buddy. No need to break a hip on top of that.”

You futilely hid your laughs behind your notecards, genuinely enjoying this experience. “Well, guys, this has been an absolute pleasure. As a Marvel fan myself, this movie has been long awaited and completely worth it. Any parting words you’d like to leave the audience before we sign off?”

”Actually,” Ryan suddenly interjected, shooting an offhanded smirk at Hugh, “I had a question for you.”

Well, that was unexpected. “Wait, really? For me?” you asked, confused.

”Yeah, betcha didn’t see this coming, but yes, the tables have in fact been turned. The interviewee is now the interviewer.” Ryan crossed his legs and placed his hands on his lap, smiling mischievously. “See, I happened to be skittering around backstage, and whilst—“

”Whilst?”

”Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking, Hugh Bear. It’s very rude. Yes, whilst skittering back there, I happened to pick up on some backstage karaoke from a certain interviewer.”

Your eyes widened and you hid your gaping mouth behind your hand. “Oh God.”

“Do you deny it?”

“You heard that?!”

Ryan pointed an accusatory finger at you. “Don’t your DARE hide that angelic voice from us, ma’am!”

Hugh switched his focus between you and Ryan. “Wait, did I miss something? What’s happening?”

”Dude, get this. I heard her singing Greatest Showman in the back and she sounds amazing!” Ryan nudged Hugh before holding out a hand to you reassuringly while you continued to gape.

“Is that right?” Hugh inquired, interest piqued.

You laughed nervously, shielding your face in your hands. In the back of your mind, you wondered if your makeup was good enough to hide the flush spreading across your face. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing.”

“Please don’t confuse my enthusiasm for mockery!” Ryan was quick to say, holding out a reassuring hand. “Honestly, I had chills hearing you. Your voice is gorgeous! And clearly you have excellent music tastes due to your song choices. Seriously, I loved it!” Ryan gushed. “My question is, where did you learn to sing? Like, I’m literally jealous because out of the three of us sitting here, I have no musical talent whatsoever, and my singing usually results in children crying. But yours just sounds so good!”

”I wanna hear her sing now,” Hugh remarked cheerfully. “High praise from Ryan is definitely a good voucher.”

“Oooh, that would be so great, Hugh. You could audition her, because her choreo needs a little bit of work. Kinda limited, but I’m sure your rusty hips still got enough wiggle in them to teach her something.”

Both men laughed and leaned forward, their attention on you, and you couldn’t help but cower behind your papers and burst into another fit of panicked giggles. “I have no idea what is happening right now,” you remarked shyly.

Ryan got out of his seat and stood beside you. “Audition jitters, I get them all the time. Here, I’ll coach you through it!” He cleared his throat and adopted a more professional tone, gesturing between you and Hugh. “Alright, so you are at your callback audition. The casting director—obviously, that’s me—liked your stuff and now I wanna do a little screen test with our leading man—that’ll be Hugh.”

At this, Hugh leaned forward and shook your hand warmly. “Hey there, I’m Hugh Jackman. I’ll be doing this scene with ya.”

You shot a quick glance at Maggie, who silently urged you to play along. So you chuckled and firmly shook Hugh’s hand. “Pleasure to be working with you, sir.” He replied with a warm smile that made your stomach somersault.

Ryan clapped his hands. “Alright! We are looking for some chemistry between our two leads. Let’s see, what’s a good duet song?” He eyed you expectedly. “I won’t ask Hugh, because the man is a neverending jukebox of showtunes. Now’s your chance to put a quarter in him and pick a song.”

You fidgeted in your seat, pausing to think before replying, “Okay, if we are going to do this, I just want to get this off my chest. Hugh, I am a HUGE fan, not just of your work as Wolverine, but your musical roles as well.” In response, he patted his heart and mouthed ‘thank you’ while Ryan rolled his eyes and made the yak-yak motion with his hand.

You continued. “So, if we could, and this is something I’ve always wanted to do…could we sing ‘A Million Dreams’ from Greatest Showman together?”

His eyes lit up and he nodded. “Yeah! I’d love that!”

You practically bounced in your seat, shaking out your hands in pure excitement while a huge grin spread across your face. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening!”

Hugh got out of his chair and gestured for you to do the same, which you did quickly. “Gotta make it like a real audition,” he informed you with a wink that got you giggling.

Ryan scooted his own chair back and sat back in it, much like a director overseeing a scene. “Okay, are we all good? Pay no attention to the multiple cameras looking at you or the lights beaming down at you, mmkay? It’s most likely nothing new for you. And…action!”

Hugh made a big show of clearing his throat a few times. “Sorry, I’m not warmed up,” he said.

“No one cares, Hugh.”

“And there isn’t any music.”

“Still not caring, Hugh.”

“Thanks, Ryan.”

With the rest of the crew laughing, Hugh finally took your hand in his and, gazing into your eyes, began to sing:

Every night I lie in bed

The brightest colors fill my head

A million dreams are keeping me awake

I think of what the world could be

A vision of the one I see

A million dreams is all it’s gonna take

Oh, a million dreams for the world we’re gonna make

You were mesmerized by his singing. Listening to him on recording did absolutely no justice for him. Never in a million years (no pun intended) did you think this could be happening to you, that Hugh Jackman could be singing one of your favorite songs directly to you. You forced yourself to focus on your breathing and remember your cue. And when it came, you were more than ready to belt out:

However big, however small

Let me be part of it all

Share your dreams with me

Ryan was flashing you a thumbs up while the rest of the crew were cheering you on. Hugh was grinning ear to ear, clearly enjoying himself.

You may be right, you may be wrong

But say that you’ll bring me along

To the world you see

Hugh nodded encouragingly, joining in:

To the world I close my eyes to see

I close my eyes to see

He got down on one knee, clutching his chest dramatically as he still held your hand.

‘Cause every night I lie in bed

The brightest colors fill my head

You grinned in reply and posed cutely in response.

A million dreams are keeping me awake

A million dreams, a million dreams!

As he shot back up, he spun you around, and the two of you both dramatically sang back to back, harmonizing on the final verse.

I think of what the world could be

A vision of the one I see

A million dreams is all it’s gonna take

A million dreams for the world we’re gonna make

As you held that last note, you felt Hugh wrap his arms around your shoulders. Knowing your role, you smiled and leaned against him.

For the world we’re gonna make

The end of the song was met with thunderous applause from everyone on set, with Ryan being particularly enthusiastic in his clapping. “You got the part!” he exclaimed.

You laughed breathlessly as you and Hugh separated. You clutched your face, grounding yourself from the incredible high you were flying on, all while that silly smile on your face still shone brightly.

Hugh clapped you on the shoulder. “Very well done!” he remarked. “I’ll be sure to keep you on call as my backup leading lady.”

“Oh my god, stop,” you beamed, still a bit breathless. “Karaoke is one thing, but I dunno about leading lady stuff.”

He smiled and gently kissed your hand. “Don’t sell yourself short,” he replied with a wink.

Maggie caught your eye from behind the camera, signaling you to wrap it up. Remembering your job, you quickly looked at the camera and said, “Uh, Deadpool and Wolverine is out in theaters now! Many thanks to Hugh and Ryan for joining us today!”

“Cut!” Maggie announced.

And thus ended probably THE most exhilarating interview of your entire career!

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman imagines #hugh jackman x you #deadpool 3 #deadpool vs wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #deadpool movie #logan wolverine #hugh jackman imagine #hugh jackman fangirl #reader insert #marvel #marvel movies #marvel cinematic universe

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welcomingdisaster · 3 months

Text

in-universe silmarillion 'rpf' tag simulator

🌟 igwiongirlxxoxoo Follow look i'd be a hypocrite to say anything against rpf on this webbed site but i did think we had the fair & wise judgement to not send fanfic to eonwe on twitter??

💜 elfcontrol Follow

👻 bluebirdiestelf Follow girl i am begging you please go read eonwe's twitter you will emerge a changed elf. 80% descriptions of weaponry 10% barely-contained desire to go and fight morgoth right the fuck now 10% the reason we ship him with arafinwe in the first place

🌈 sirion_sapphic Mutuals the slash they sent him was feanor/melkor 😬😬😬

🔮 elda_heritage_posts Following Elda heritage post.

🌬️feeeeacalimë Follow does it.... does it have to be...

🔮 elda_heritage_posts Following It's not optional.

(3,401 notes)

⛅ birdsmith Follow what i've tasted of desire || nerdanel x indis || e || 2.1k

nerdanel returns to the royal palaces slightly flushed, her freckled skin and sizeable muscles glinting under laurelin's light. she knows her lady--her queen!--waits for her, and can no longer suppress the longing rising in her chest. it is wrong and yet it is so right....

[read more on ao3]

⛅ birdsmith Follow bringing this back after feanor doxxed me ✌️✌️ #come at me bitch i got no gems and no ships and im gonna fuck your wife also #cant cos ur dead?? sucks to suck lol

(91 notes)

🔥aaaaaveryscarydragonaaaa Follow cracks me how people make such a big fuss about shipping maedhros with his brother. hes been to angband he doesnt give a shit

💎 dwarffucker4000 Follow

🔥aaaaaveryscarydragonaaaa Follow wow sorry my bad i'll stop writing about how the big bad kinslayer gives his brother little kissys lest i wreck his mental health shining elbereth get OVER yourself

(38 notes)

🌸 ofthewoods Following

sweet thingol x reader headcanons 🥺

would gaze into your eyes for 100 years

grows long silver hair for love of you

wakes up every morning from sleep (thing elves need) and gives you good morning kisses (in elven tradition)

read more #not ok to reblog #mel writes

(4 notes)

💠ofthehouseoffinrod Follow not to be a tinfoil hatter or anything but there's just no way in hell finrod did not love beor with literally every molecule of his elven soul. like try to read "a second ode to a friend lost" or like even the eulogy without seeing that i fucking dare you

#there is no platonic explanation for that #gnawing on the bars of my enclosure (52 notes, replies turned off)

🌻sweetflowersofspring Follow

(431 notes)

#lena speaks #silly shit tag #the silmarillion #sorry about putting this on the silm tag also #silmarillion

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lola-bunn1 · 2 years

Note

can u do one where neteyam is expected to find a mate and you get distant and all bc yk its not gonna be you and another guy makes a move on u and he gets mad n confession n stuff? i love ur writing

oblivious

❥ genre: angsty ish to fluff

10 years, you've been best friends with neteyam for 10 years. you both saw each other grow up, and now it's over. you know it is

neteyam has finally matured, he was ready to get an ikran, ready to go hunting with the others, and most of all, he was now expected to mate.

you know whoever he's gonna mate with is not gonna like you being friends with him, you admit it yourself, you wouldn't like your partner spending time with another girl. so you understood why it would happen

so you began distancing yourself, as a preparation. but also to ease the pain for when you finally see him with someone that isn't you. it was bound to happen. you were stupid enough to fall for him, and now it was going to be harder than it should be

you cried, you cried at night just thinking about the way life would be, you were sure he didn't feel the same, besides, he was going to be the next olo'eyktan, he needed to have someone proper, someone actually important

who were you to be mating with someone like him? he would probably pick elmirìey, she was a proper girl, a gorgeous one. or maybe he'd pick awia, she was a great warrior, from a great family

not only did you distance yourself from him, but his family too. you were so close to them, hell even neytiri liked you. but now, you acted like you didn't even know them

you sat at a special spot you found in the forest, you and neteyam used to come here but he's too busy now. so its just you

"hey!" you heard a voice behind you

"oh, neteyam" you said

"what a way to greet me, do you not want me around that much?"

"what?" you furrowed your eyebrows

"don't be like that. you know exactly what I'm talking about." he said

"I heard you're looking for a mate now that you've had your ceremony"

he sighed, knowing you're trying to change the subject, "yeah. but to be honest, I've already found one. Just gotta figure out a way to tell her"

your heart shattered.

"oh, that's nice. I um, I have to go" you said

"y/n wait-"

and with that, you ran off somewhere, your tears sliding down your cheeks, how could he find one so fast? does he love her that much? has he been loving her, just waiting for his ceremony so he can finally pick her?

"oh" you heard a voice and sighed

"I'm sorry I ran--" you said, turning around to see that it was not neteyam speaking

"are-are you okay? you look like you've been crying" the man said

"i'm fine, thanks tenio" you said, wiping your tears

tenio was a fine young man, he was actually really nice, but you've never really talked to him

"i was just looking for some fruits to pick for my mother, but ill leave you alone-"

"no no, you can stay uh, i know where you can get the ripe ones, follow me" you said, walking along the forest with him next to you, you two talked for a bit as he was picking the fruit

"i heard you had your ceremony the other day" you said

"yeah, it sucks though." he said

"wait what? why so?" you asked

"well everyone is waiting for me to mate with someone, but there isn't anyone in my life, ill have to mate with some random stranger" he sighed

"oh...im so sorry"

"it's fine-"

"there you are!" neteyam's voice filled your ears, he turned to see tenio there, and his face faltered

"let's go" he said, grabbing your hand and walking away, an angry look on his face, you definitely did not want to do anything to upset him more

"uh, tell your mother i said hi! enjoy the fruits!" you said and he just nodded

once he was out of sight you pulled away

"why were you with him?!" he said

"i was just helping him pick fruits!"

"everybody knows that trick! you help him and he subtly mentions that he has nobody to mate with so you can feel bad"

"you're being insane right now. nobody has ever done that" you rolled your eyes

"they have, you just never realize it" he yelled

"what if i do realize it, hm? what if i want them to do it? why don't you go tell your stupid girl how much you want her to be your mate and leave me alone!"

"i can't go"

"why not!" you yelled

"because she's standing right in front of me"

"what?"

"it's you, y/n. i don't want anyone else why don't you understand that? you think I don't notice how you've been avoiding me and my family too?"

"i-i avoided you because i couldn't stand seeing you with another girl."

"wait-you thought i was gonna mate with someone else?" he asked

you looked down and avoided looking at him, he lifted your chin up with his finger

"i've been waiting for years to finally make you mine, y/n. it hurts me to see you with anyone else too."

"really?" you asked

"i see you, y/n."

"i see you, ma nete" you smiled, and the two of you shared a kiss

how were you so oblivious?

#neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar the way of water #neteyam x you #neteyam fanfiction #avatar x reader #neteyam fluff #avatar 2 #avatar fanficiton

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kamaluhkhan · 4 months

Text

GUILTY AS SIN?

GLUTTONY — part vi of we'll write sins not tragedies

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab) word count: 3k summary: after a mission gone wrong, you unknowingly take the fall for a friend; you get drunk with the enemy; and you start to think that, if they’re going to crucify you anyway, you might as well indulge in a few fatal fantasies. warnings: set during the last olympian so spoilers for the entire pjo book series; luke + reader get drunk; mention of death + war + reader has some survivor's guilt; smut (unprotected p in v, oral f receiving, kinda sub!luke, brief allusion to knife kink — 18 + MDNI) + angst author's note: not sure how i feel ab this one but i've been workshopping it for weeks so i think her time has come !! also maybe got a bit too deep into book lore oops. also also ive been listening to this song an outrageous amount and i hope i did it justice ANYWAYS lmk what y'all think, thanks sm for reading ♥

♪ "guilty as sin?" by taylor swift

you’re well aware of how suspicious this looks, rendezvousing with the enemy at a sleazy dive bar in the heart of the city.

he walks in, and your heart starts to beat faster in anticipation. his familiar deep brown eyes are now striking gold, and a streak of gray is woven through his signature dark curls — evidence of the battles you've fought, on opposite sides, and an ominous reminder of a war that has yet to be over.

as he casually orders himself a drink and one for you, you keep a hand on your concealed dagger. it’s become an instinct of yours, whenever he’s around.

“i didn’t come here to fight.” he assures, catching the glint of your blade.

“and what about…..” you gesture broadly at him.

“we’re not entirely synched yet, so it gives him a break whenever i’m in full control,” he explains as though reciting from a textbook (something like how to betray your loved ones and overthrow the olympians 101). “it’s only me tonight. i swear on the river styx.”

a shiver passes through you.

about a year ago, luke tracked you down in new york. apparently, kronos was pushing him to do something extreme, and luke felt conflicted.

you thought it had to be some sort of cruel joke, because you could not think of anything more extreme than what luke had already done in facilitating a war between gods and titans. you had no patience for his crocodile tears, not after he played you so well the first time.

you told him as much, then told him to fuck off.

to be fair, you didn’t know that would lead to him bathing in the river styx and becoming a vessel for the titan lord himself.

luke wears the curse of achilles well: all strong muscles and sharp angles, his tan skin glowing ever-so slightly, and his body devoid of any fresh cuts or bruises despite surviving an explosion just a few days prior.

“so….what? you’re the pilot whenever kronos needs to take a really long nap?”

“i’d say timeshare is the closest way to describe it.”

“50/50 ownership?”

“more like 90/10.”

you scoff. “sounds like a scam.”

the corner of his mouth quirks up in amusement. it reminds you so much of old times, his boyish charm peeking through whenever a camper would try to pull a prank on him, and then complain when he’d beat them to the punch.

“it’s just me,” he repeats, but you didn’t need any more confirmation.

you know deep in your gut, from that mischievous smirk alone: it’s not the lord of time, but luke castellan next to you.

the bar is surprisingly busy for a weeknight. there’s a game being shown on TV, and people wearing sports jerseys occasionally groan or cheer or come to the counter to order another pint for their table while keeping their eyes glued to the screen. the jukebox in the corner plays music from the 70s and 80s as a group of friends starts to dance, tipsy after a deadly combination of jello shots and sangria.

for the first few drinks, you and luke are silent, letting these sounds of regular human existence fill the space between you. you half-expect him to ask about law school admissions, or the new tattoo you got on your upper thigh, or your band’s latest show — all fragments of your own mundane mortal life used to distract yourself from demigod realities.

he doesn’t, though. luke just stares at the hockey game, one you know for a fact he doesn’t care about because the rangers aren’t playing, as he sips his old-fashioned like he has all the time in the world.

“did you wanna meet so we could just sit here in silence or….”

when you had agreed to this meeting, you had a clear goal in mind: find out who the spy is and clear your name.

it might be too much rum or the crushing weight of recent events, but you no longer have the energy nor the drive to be strategic or even cautious around luke. now, you’re looking for a cure to your bone deep boredom and heartache.

"no. i’m here because….” he falters and runs a hand through his hair. “look, i heard about what happened at camp. and, with beck —”

“dying?” you finish, taking one last gulp of your drink. all the rage, resentment and grief you’ve been feeling has been lodged in your throat. you’d hope each sip of your dark and stormy would burn through it, but instead it comes tumbling from your lips.

“honestly, beck would probably still be alive if you didn’t join the dark side. i guess you’re kinda leading the dark side now, aren’t you luke? what’s that like?”

luke polishes off his drink, too, his cheeks flushed. he gestures at the bartender for a third round of drinks. or is it fourth?

“don’t be a dick,” luke sighs once a replenished glass is placed in front of him. “i obviously never wanted to hurt you — any of you.”

if you were of sober mind, maybe you’d point out that it’s too late; that luke already hurt all of you the minute he decided to side with kronos.

“i know i did, though,” he adds after swallowing a mouthful of his drink.

you know that if luke was of sober mind, he would never have admitted that. he seems to know better than to apologize though, hopefully recognizing that the damage has already been done.

it’s not like your hands aren’t bloody, too.

“it was supposed to be me, you know?” you let out a watery laugh. “i was supposed to go with percy on the mission, but beck offered to go instead because he thought — he knew — that it would….it would be hard for me to see…. you.”

luke pauses and turns away from you. “you couldn’t have known what would happen.” his voice wavers, too. “beckendorf was looking out for you — it’s what he does. did.”

“i couldn’t even go to the funeral,” you continue. “i feel like i didn’t really get to say goodbye, you know?”

“yeah,” luke hums sorrowfully. “mourning someone who fought for the gods isn’t really allowed where i am.”

again, you could point out the irony in what he’s saying. given everything he’s done, luke dug his own grave and clearly some for his friends, too.

tears sting your eyes, but you blink them away. the reality is that one of your best friends died because you couldn’t handle an encounter with your ex-boyfriend, the one you’re currently sitting beside.

you might not have done what they accused you of, but you’re nowhere near innocent. who were you to give yourself permission to cry?

in the dim neon light, you notice a tear slide down luke’s cheek before he wipes it away just as fast.

he clears his throat. “to charles beckendorf: a hero by any other name.”

you tap your glass against luke’s, and you both drink in honor of your lost friend. you drink to everyone and everything you’ve lost, too.

beckendorf is dead; chris has lost his mind; clarisse might start her own war with the apollo cabin over a flying chariot; and ever since the princess andromeda mission went terribly wrong, silena can’t go one minute without bursting into tears.

it was too easy for everything to fall apart, as though this was always what the fates had in store for you — the next generation of greek tragedies.

thankfully, there always comes a break in the tragedy, and it seems to be now: you and luke, getting drunk off whiskey and rum and old memories.

you remember countless times sneaking out to the beach after curfew, mixing store-brand soda with cheap alcohol smuggled into camp by luke’s half-brothers; hot summer nights spent fantasizing about existence outside of camp and returning to your head counselor duties in the morning with chiron and mr. d none the wiser. once you started dating, it became routine for the two of you to wander away from the group for some privacy, somewhere far enough away so that no one could hear you scream luke’s name.

those memories still make your skin flush, even as you’re here drinking cocktails at a bar in the city, with one friend gone to elysium and everyone else calling you a traitor.

“i can’t believe you don’t remember that night! mr. d caught a few senior campers getting drunk in his office? they stole a super expensive bottle of wine, threw up all over the carpet, and had to spend the rest of the night cleaning it?”

you continue shaking your head. you tip your glass back to capture the last drops of amber liquid before confessing:

“what i remember is spending the whole night jealous of malcolm pace because he got to slow dance with you.”

luke lets out something between a scoff and a laugh, then he’s silent for a few moments.

“i love this song,” luke muses, words blurring together. “i haven’t heard it in a while.” he finishes his drink and sets the glass down, holding his hand out to you.

your brain is a bit foggy from all the alcohol, so it takes you a few seconds to realize what he’s asking.

“you wanna dance?”

“yeah,” he answers. “make up for lost time.”

it’s not until you feel luke’s chest pressed against yours, his hands firmly on your waist, that you register what song is currently playing.

“downtown lights” by the blue nile — luke had spent so long trying to find the right song for your first time together.

you told him not to worry, teased him a bit for planning every detail so meticulously, but deep down, your heart swelled with how much he cared.

the empty hermes cabin during capture-the-flag, both of you pretending to be too injured from sparring practice to play. luke’s sweaty hands fumbling with the condom, you having to step in and rip the wrapper with your teeth. clothes being haphazardly thrown on so you could run back to the infirmary before anyone noticed. silent vows to do it again, and again, and again.

the more time spent exploring and experimenting, the more you got the rhythm of each other’s bodies, knew how to make the other squirm and throw their head back in pleasure — and that didn’t just go away when luke joined kronos’ army.

even when your loyalties were more clear, your consciousness was plagued with visions of you and luke together, ones that left your sheets burning, more than the blazing summer heat. you confided in silena about these once, and she assured you that there is no such thing as bad thoughts.

she did warn you, though: it’s when you indulge in these fantasies that they risk becoming fatal.

now, thinking back and forth between memories with luke and the events of this past very shitty week, you realize that maybe that’s why you’re here.

despite everything you’ve done, you supposedly betrayed people you consistently fight beside, fight for; you were thrown out of a place you once considered home and told never to come back.

you were doomed from the start — a daughter of nemesis, assumed to be wicked and revenge-seeking since birth.

well, if they’re going to crucify you anyway…..

once the song ends, you ask:

“you wanna go outside for a smoke?”

your hands start playing with the curls at the base of luke’s neck, hinting at what you were hoping comes next.

luke licks his lips, gold eyes darker than before.

“guess you’re itching to put that celestial bronze to good use,” he says lowly.

“only if you ask nicely,” you drawl.

luke blushes.

you pull away from him, start walking towards the back exit, and pray that he follows you.

—

this is why meeting with you was dangerous: there’s no one else in the world – god, titan, or otherwise – luke castellan would get on his knees for, let alone in the filthy alley behind a bar.

technically, kronos sent luke here to recruit you.

the scythe charm — the one used to communicate with silena — sits heavy in his pocket. it’s part of the reason why you were exiled from camp, why your friends don’t look at you the same way. why you can’t ever go back home, not really.

luke imagines you might resent those who threw you out of camp, but you would never betray them. he knew that you weren’t likely to join kronos’ army.

he’s thankful that, at the very least, you still have a penchant for breaking some rules.

the two of you are a tangled mess of teeth and tongue. luke tastes the spiciness of ginger beer and rum, mixed with sweetness from the clove cigarette you just smoked. you lock one leg around luke’s hip, and the brief glimpse of your lacy black underwear has him throbbing. one of your hands slips underneath his shirt to trace the contours of his abdomen. luke’s breath hitches when your hand reaches down even further.

“wait –” you pause your actions to let luke finish his sentence, and already he regrets voicing his hollow concern. “i….i probably should not be doing this.”

“me neither,” you concede, breathing steadily.“but, they already think i’m guilty.” with your other hand, your thumb dances over his kiss-swollen lips and luke feels something ignite in the pit of his stomach. “maybe i am, with how much i think about you.”

luke knows what’s at stake for him, if anyone finds out, but in a booze-soaked haze and with you looking at him like that, he can’t seem to care.

it’s coming back to him now: that endless cycle of waking up sticky and drenched in sweat over dreams of screaming your name and going about his day like it wasn’t a paradox to be leading kronos’ army and still wanting someone aligned with the enemy to devour him.

when he agreed, however reluctantly, to be a vessel for kronos, luke had to lock those desires inside a vault deep inside his mind.

this might very well be luke’s last chance to satisfy his cravings, once and for all. tonight, he’s in full control of his body and mind.

he’ll happily yield his power to you.

soon enough, your teeth gnaw on his top lip as luke messily thrusts into you, your underwear hastily pushed to the side. he tries to savor every part of this, of you — the heel of your combat boot digging into his back; the sting of your nails where you grip him; the familiar scent of your skin, sickly sweet cherries and burnt vanilla; the hoarseness of your voice, encouraging him to go faster, harder. following your orders, luke wraps both of your legs around his waist and digs his fingers further into your hips to keep them secure.

it’s a religious experience, watching you throw your head back against the brick wall as your orgasm crashes through you. luke follows a few seconds later, pulling out just in time to paint the inside of your thighs with his cum.

luke grins as he watches you come down from your high, eyes closed, chest heaving, neck engraved with the outline of his teeth.

“sorry, didn’t mean to give you a concussion.”

you open your eyes just to roll them at luke, who’s tucking himself back into his jeans.

“you’re such an asshole,” you jest through labored breaths, registering his shit-eating grin. you fix the hem of your leather skirt and pout dramatically. “and you had to leave a mess behind, didn’t you?”

without another word, luke kneels in front of you.

he leans his head back to admire how your lips curl into a bemused smile at his antics. your fingers press into his pulse point, no doubt feeling how reckless his heartbeat becomes underneath you. once more, your thumb prods at his lips; this time luke grants access, the cold metal of your ring burning on his tongue.

“is this how you pledged loyalty to your titan king?” you taunt.

luke shakes his head, still sucking your digit.

he did have to bow, but not like this. the only entity he’d worship this desperately is you.

“i’m honored,” you coo. luke bites back a whimper when you remove your thumb from his mouth, instead tracing the scar on his face, up his cheekbone. “i have to say though: i miss your brown eyes, pretty boy.”

his whole body is on fire with how you touch him, but your passing observation feels like a knife to the gut. wanting to be good for you, to prove he’s still your pretty boy, luke pushes up the bottom of your skirt so it bunches around your waist.

“luke!” you attempt to scold, concealing a moan when his teeth graze your clit through the damp fabric of your underwear. “someone might see.”

“it’ll be fine, baby,” he assures. “is this new?” luke is mesmerized by the fresh ink on your thigh, fingers trailing over swirling black lines.

you hum, a goddess gazing down on her disciple. “do you like it?”

luke nods. he replaces his fingers with his tongue, journeying across your skin, tasting salty sweat mixed with his cum drying between your legs. he hears your whimpers for more. he complies and plunges two fingers beneath the lace until you reach your peak. luke places one last kiss to your core, before getting up again.

you crash your lips onto his, and you’re kissing him the way you did back when you really loved him, chaotic and feverish. your fingers snake through his curls, and you tug on them just enough to make luke’s head spin.

you’re somehow more intoxicating than however many drinks he downed earlier.

he sees something simmering behind your eyes, when you ask if he wants to come back to your apartment. you both know you shouldn’t, but honestly — in the grand scheme of things, what’s one more sin?as the two of you are tangled beneath your bedsheets, you decide to frame it differently, as a mutual vow: maybe just one more time will satisfy this hunger.

#we've only got two sins left idk how this happened....#thank y'all sm for reading!!#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #luke castellan series #luke castellan x nemesis!reader #pjo fanfic #saf writes

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itsthewritergal · 9 months

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Please can I hold you? - Bucky.Barnes x Reader

Hello my loves,

I'm trying to be better this year at writing.

Summary: Y/N leaves, and Bucky tries his hardest to fix it.

TW: Kissing, trauma, family trauma, shouting, swearing, (let me know if I've missed some)

January 1st, it was supposed to be their year. They had promised each other that this was it, Bucky and Y/N. Bucky had promised no more long missions away from Y/N, Y/N had promised that she would move in with Bucky so they could finally spend more time together. A good year was what they wanted, what they deserved, what they needed. But here they were screaming at each other over Bucky not kissing Y/N at midnight. Y/N had explained to Bucky multiple times that she was at the edge, she couldn’t cope anymore with arguing, and whilst Bucky never admitted it, he hated it just as much, if not more than Y/N. Yet here they were.

“And another thing, I didn’t even want to go to Nat’s stupid New Year’s eve party” Bucky screamed ‘I wanted to be at home with you’ was the bit he failed to include in his insult.

“You told me you wanted to be with people you loved on New Year’s Eve, I thought it would be fun” She shouted back “You think it was fun for me? Because it fucking wasn’t. All I wanted to do was come home, the whole night, but you wanted to keep drinking” She seethed, Bucky wanted to tell her it wasn’t true. He didn’t want to drink, but he stupidly got caught up in the party.

“Now you’re going to get at me for drinking? Like you don’t do it every single weekend” He shouted, “Thor never brings that fucking mead, I deserved to have a nice night” He was being mean intentionally, but he couldn’t stop.

“I never said you didn’t Buck” She said her voice suddenly quieter, Bucky should have noticed it was because she was getting upset but he didn’t.

“Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been working? I just wanted one nice night” Bucky should have stopped himself, he knows he should stop but he couldn’t. He was angry at himself for not putting his foot down and saying he wanted to spend time with just Y/N.

“One nice night?” Y/N parroted “The nights we have aren’t nice? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No! You’re twisting my words” Bucky snapped, he spoke with insecurity but it came across as anger and Y/N didn’t like that

“Because I’m the bad guy right? James Bucky Barnes can’t put a foot wrong, but I can. That’s all I do right?” Y/N said, her fears coming to the surface. The insecurity was all from her messed up childhood, Bucky knew that from their late night chats, when they’d lay next to each other and confess everything, but he didn’t realise that the fear was seeping into their relationship.

“That’s not what this is about” Bucky said realising suddenly how far he had taken the fight, and how distraught Y/N was becoming

“Isn’t it?” Y/N snapped, her eyes locked onto Bucky as a target.

“You’re making this worse than it needs to be” Bucky said, unknowingly adding more fuel to the fire

“Yeah that’s me isn’t it? Making everything worse. Don’t worry Buck, I get it” She snapped turning away from Bucky

“Where the hell are you going?” He called after her

“Downstairs Buck, I need some space away from you right now” She stormed out of their bedroom and down the stairs. Bucky sat down on their bed with his head in his hands, he had just fucked everything up.

Taking a deep breath Bucky decided to set an alarm for 10 minutes, and once it had gone off he would go and speak to Y/N calmly about his feelings. That was how they were going to fix it. He knew he had messed up but he would fix it.

Y/N stood in their hallway, and listened to Bucky close their bedroom door. She knew she had blown things out of proportion, she had made things worse. The little voice in her head told her she had messed things up seriously this time. There was no coming back from this. Bucky hated her, she knew that much. The thought along was enough to almost break her, pulling on her trainers she left the house silently, following the little voice down the streets. She twisted and turned around the streets she used to love walking with Bucky, but now they just felt like they were taunting her as she remembered the kisses they had shared at the bus stop, and the stray cat they had wanted to adopt by the street corner. She couldn’t cope with it, so she began to run.

The wind blew in her ears, the kind of fierce that stopped her from having to think, it was dark and the street lamps did little to ease her discomfort. She was on her way home, in the desperate hope that Bucky was asleep, or at Steve’s or Sam’s. She had no idea of the time, having left her phone at home in Bucky’s jacket pocket most likely, but she sent a silent prayer to the sky that it was late enough that Bucky wouldn’t still be around. She couldn’t face him, not after everything she had done. Her mother was right, she wasn’t made for relationships, she would always mess them up, and now she had screwed up the only good thing she had going for her. This was it. She was done. Y/N didn’t notice the way her hands shivered a little with the cold biting wind, with her furious mood and growing insecurity she had forgotten a coat. As she turned onto her and Bucky’s street the tears started again, this really was the end. Her and Bucky were about to be done, finished, ended.

So much for their year. She mused to herself silently, revelling in the cruel twist of fate, her mother was right.

Pushing the handle of the door down quietly, in the hope to not wake Bucky if he was in, Y/N creaked the door open. She took a shaky step into the house, listening out for Bucky. When she was satisfied that there was no sound of him she closed the door behind her and took off her shoes.

“Y/N?” Bucky’s shaky voice called out, she froze. “Baby?” He said coming into the hall, Y/N put her hand back on the door handle, she was ready to run again, this was not a conversation she was ready to have.

“Don’t you dare ever scare me like that again” He said wrapping his arms around her tensed body, Y/N kept herself tensed, she was ready to run if she needed.

“I know you’re scared, I know you think you’ve messed this all up but I swear to you this whole argument is on me” he said refusing to let her out of his embrace,

“Bucky stop” she said quietly

“I’m sorry” He said dropping his arms, she looked up at him with red eyes “Could you come and sit down in the lounge for me?” He asked

“I should go”

“No” Bucky said “You’re going to come and sit down and we are going to talk about this, because we are bigger than your insecurities and we are going to fix this” he said,

“Oh,” Y/N said “oh” She repeated once the words had settled into her head “You aren’t breaking up with me?”

“Come on doll, come sit down for me?” He said

“Ok” She said, following Bucky through their house.

Y/N settled herself into an armchair, where she could curl her legs up underneath herself. Bucky opted for the sofa opposite her, picking up on the fact that she didn’t want to touch him just yet.

“Before we start, the next time you need to get away you tell me where you’re going. I was terrified doll, I know the kind of people that are out there and if you need space, please let me come with you. I promise I won’t walk beside you or speak to you but I need to know you are safe.” Bucky said “Please?”

“I’m sorry Buck” She said,

“No apologies. We have to make mistakes to fix them for the future yeah?” He said

“I don think I can do this Bucky. All your friends hate me, I invited you to a party you didn’t want to be at, I asked you to cut down your missions. Everything I do, makes me the issue in this relationship” She said,

“That’s not true, everyone loves you—”

“No they don’t, they put up with me”

“No, no, Y/N. Please don’t do this. I know you’re spiralling, I know that you’ve always been made to believe that its your fault. But I swear to you this one is on me. I wanted to spend New Years Eve with just you. I wanted to kiss you at midnight, but I fucked up. I got drunk and neglected you. You should have been my priority at midnight, not that stupid drink”

“I should’ve let you have fun” Y/N said

“No, I should have kissed you” Bucky said, his tone was final and Y/N didn’t want to argue anymore.

“I didn’t deserve it”

“You don’t have to earn love” Bucky said, moving to the carpeted space in front of Y/N’s armchair, taking Y/N’s hands in his he pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles “I love you, I want to spend my life with you and I will spend every single moment apologising to you for the way I acted”

“I’m sorry for saying all those mean things Buck” Y/N said “I didn’t mean them I just wanted to make myself the bad person so you could hate me. I wanted you to hate me”

“Why did you want that?” Bucky asked after pressing another kiss to her hand

“So you’d end things, so my fears could come true. It’s sadistic, but I guess I’m always just waiting for the end so I just wanted it to happen. Like ripping a bandage off”

“Oh Y/N” Bucky said gently “You never have to be scared of me leaving. We will always work through our issues, you’re my life. You’re my world, this is it for me.”

“So you’re not waiting for me to fuck up so you can leave?”

“No, I’m not” Bucky said

“I’m sorry” she whispered

“No more apologies” Bucky whispered “Please let me hold you baby? We can talk more in the morning I promise. But right now I just need to hold you”

“You never need to ask”

#bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #itsthewritergal #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x fluff #bucky x reader angst #bucky x you

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kosmosguk · 3 months

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Lineage (M) | Special Chapter: How It Began

Pairing: Duke Yoongi x Princess Reader

Word Count: 4.4K

Summary: When an engagement locks you, the 8th and forgotten princess, to the duke infamous for his cruelty, you find yourself counting the days until your inevitable death. It’s terrifying to think of your end, but when you arrive at his territory, you realize there’s a more morbid reason behind your marriage, and that the duke is much worse than the rumors have painted him out to be. But many years before the events of Lineage's main story takes place, there was once only the love of a beloved goddess and a damned demon.

Warnings: HEAVY yandere themes, death, gore and death, near-death experiences, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, mentions of smut, 18+, explicit language

A/N: Surprise, everyone! It's been, what, 4 years since I finished Lineage and 3 years since I stopped writing on this blog. I've been through a lot of ups and downs in the meantime (to underplay it), but I'm now in a pretty good spot. I've thought about writing this for years and there's probably at least 10 incomplete versions of this on my old laptop, but writer's slump was a huge barrier. It wasn't until a conversation with a roommate who had complained that a fic she liked was never fully fully complete that I thought about trying again, from scratch, to complete this part for Lineage. Lineage will always be my baby, and on a reread of it to prepare to write this chapter, the me of the past did do better than expected (probably better than the me of today). I don't know if any of my original readers are still here from the days when I was active on this blog, but even if it's just one, I hope I brought this story alive just a little longer. Will I write the epilogue though (which also has 10+ incomplete drafts)? We'll see :) Hopefully it won't take another 4 years!

A beautiful clearing stretched on underneath the heat of a sun that always remained warm. It was green and lush, but void of any budding blooms. There were bits of dried flowers that showed that there might have been flowers once, which had blossomed as quick back then as rain drops fell from the sky. This clearing was eternal, and it could only be changed by the touch of a being blessed by the divine or damned by the evil.

A man, cloaked in black, bent down into the clearing. There was only one more bloom now that still remained, a reminder of a time that seemed distant and far. It was hard to pick out from the shadows that spread from his feet, but he restrained the shadows until the yellow flower could tentatively peek out through the green.

It was time now. He could bring her back. She would fill this clearing with flowers again like she did before, and she would laugh as he clumsily wove together a crown from them.

He plucked the flower out of the grass and pressed it against his lips tenderly. It shriveled and dried up, leaving a colorless husk. He let it flutter out of his grasp and looked up at the sun for the first time in his existence.

"I will bring you back," he promised then. His voice sounded like he had not spoken in many years. He pulled out his sword and pierced it into the grass, watching the green shrivel into gray.

In the glint of his sword, there was a reflection of a young maiden, her fists kneading against a ball of dough. When she moved slightly, nudging the hair off of her shoulders, a hint of red was seen on her skin.

You were born in a field of flowers, blooming beautifully underneath a sky lit with gold. The daughter of the God of Life and the Goddess of Creation, you were beloved by all beings who relied on the earth to live. You, who had lived under the protection of all who was Good, were woefully ignorant of the true darkness of those who lived in the shadows of Evil.

But then on a peaceful day, not unlike the day you had been born, you realized then how easy it was for Evil to creep into the realm of the Good.

“Wake up, my goddess!”

You flinched, peeking your eyes open to the Fairy of Tulips pulling the hem of your tunic with her small fists. “I am sleeping, Little Tulip. Only official orders will wake me.”

The sun was warm against your skin, and the clarity of your mind was still soft from the blurry haze of sleep. Though deities had little need for sleep, your habit of naps was known far and wide through the Creators’ realm. You tried to close your eyes again, nestling back into the bed of grass, and brush her off your clothes, but she clung onto your palm, chomping on your thumb. You yelped, now wide awake.

She squinted down at you, fluttering up off your palm, and placed her hands on her hips, the sunrise tulip petals adorning her body swaying in her frenzy. “The flowers have been murmuring that there’s evil nearby! We have to leave. Now!”

You laughed. Evil? Evil had not existed in this realm for many eons, after the War ended with victory of the Good. But when the little fairy’s expression didn’t show a hint of amusement and the muttering of the flowers around you remained, you frowned and pushed yourself up to stand.

“If you are certain of evil, then I will bring myself to check it out. It would not do any of us good if I left the situation unchecked, as we are by the border of the realm.” You stepped forward, flowers blooming underfoot to soften your path. The little fairy tugged at your clothes, hoping to stop you, but you kept walking further away from the clearing you had been lazing in towards the forest by it. Instead of the welcoming lush green that usually greeted you, the forest was coated in darkness.

When the muttering of the flowers pitched in volume, you knew you were getting close. You placed your hands out, ready to call for nature’s aid if the situation called for it. However, instead of some vile creature looming over you with venom oozing from its pores, a young man laid in the midst of the darkness. A closer look prompted a gasp to leave your lips. He was beautiful, more beautiful than any deity you had ever seen, and if you had not been entrenched in shadows, you could have been fooled to believe him holy. But the oozing black blood from the wound on his side and his eyes, which flickered open to glower at you, were a startling red.

He scooted back, his free hand falling to the blade by him.

“I will not hurt you!” you spoke before you could process the thought, mesmerized by the sight of his eyes. You showed him your hands. Your eyes dropped to the curve of his lips, which if it had not been pulled in a sneer would have been lush and have softened his features. “I am a healer and a grower, not a killer.”

His expression decreased in hostility. You hesitatingly asked: “Is it alright if I come close? You can keep your sword by you, and if I do anything unpleasant, I will understand if you slay me but...” You teetered for a moment. “But if you kill me, I cannot ensure your safety and that would be bad for you and me. Me because I would be dead and you because you would also be dead and...”

You were interrupted by a laugh. Your eyes flickered back to him. He looked startled at the sound he had made, and you smiled brightly in response. You took a step closer. When he did not tense, you dropped to your knees and raised your palm over his side. You lifted your gaze to meet his, and both of you sat in an entranced silence, staring at the other. His eyes dropped to your lips, though there was still a guarded look to him, and you held your breath.

“Do you want me to put my hand down?”

“What?” you sputtered. Oh. Heat burned at your cheeks as you noticed the playful tug of his lips. You nodded quickly. He must have thought you were amusing. You focused back on healing, and you would leave and tell Little Tulip to not say a word. You vowed that you would never see this brute, who enjoyed your embarrassment, again.

When he dropped his hand, you called your healing power, but the unpleasant quirk of your lips increased the time it took to fully heal his wound. When the flesh closed over the wound, you leapt back to your feet. You felt foolish, very unlike the noble and dignified deity you were supposed to be.

“I am going now. I will not tell a soul about you. You do not need to thank me, but I will tell you that you must not wander into this realm again. I guarantee that the next deity you meet will not be as forgiving as me and...”

Your lips pinched together when you felt his touch around your wrist. He pulled your hand down, and lifted his head to kiss the inside of your palm. You flinched at the press of his lips on your skin. He looked up at you, mistrust no longer in his eyes. “You are my savior. May I not be able to see you anymore?”

You dropped your gaze from his. If he heeded your words and you no longer saw him again, would the emptiness in you at the thought grow more and more?

“Only here,” your voice was but above a whisper. “If I see your shadows in the woods, I will come find you. But you must not come find me.”

He was silent for a second. “You are as cruel as you are kind, my goddess.”

He still had not let go of your hand and though his touch was cold, you felt fire licking up where his fingers made contact with your skin. You pulled your hand back like he had scalded you and spun on your heel, flowers having barely enough time to bloom underneath your bare feet with the quickness that you fled.

When you left the woods, your feet scratched up for the first time in your existence and your cheeks red, you could only force yourself to squeeze out a sentence at the quivering little fairy: “There was no evil.”

Your encounters with him continued, in secret and away from prying eyes. You talked about your visits to the human world: the songs you had heard and how you wished you could have danced and the loaves of bread you spotted cooling on the tables. You even talked about how your duties burdened you, though you were made to fulfill them, and how you felt like you were only able to handle them out of love for your humans. He talked about the books he had picked up in the human world, how he had found them meager and naïve at first and then interesting, and the little lake of lava he had grown up by and skipped rocks in. Though he spoke very little, when he did, you were captured by him.

And with the increase of encounters, your feelings of love, which you had reserved for only the creations that had been blessed by the hands of the Creators, grew. You let him hold you close to his chest, and when you laid your head on his flesh, you swore you could almost hear a heart beat quicker and quicker.

On your seventh encounter, when you had brought a basket of flowers into the woods to weave into crowns, you had placed one on his head. When he reached out into your basket and pulled out a handful of flowers, you watched him clumsily weave the flowers together and place the lopsided crown on your head. How could this man, as tender and clumsy as he was, be evil?

When he looked dejected at the sight of the crown limply hanging onto your head, you laughed and pressed a soft kiss on his lips. You had seen your lovely humans do this to express their adoration. And it was accurate to the moment: you adored him, to the point where you could ignore where his origins had laid root in.

Immediately, his hands reached up around your waist and pressed you close until you were on his lap. You gasped against his lips, and his tongue was in your mouth, delving into its depths. You burned underneath his exploration, your hands clenching onto his clothes into fists. Oh, you had never known pleasure like this, so unlike the simpleminded happiness you felt watching the trees hum in the wind and your humans create art. This pleasure was different: it blazed hotly, burning down trees and creating destruction in its path.

When the two of you were separated, your eyes blurred in a haze, he brushed his finger over the plumpness of your bottom lip, soaked in the mixture of saliva. His eyes were filled with anguish, but for what, you did not know. “My name is Yoongi.”

You let out a startled gasp at this. Oh. Oh no. You knew this name. You pushed away from him and onto your feet, flinging an arm out to point at him. “You are the Demon God. You...!”

He was on his feet now, his hands reaching out to grab onto you. But you were inconsolable, banging your fists on his chest. Fire burned before your gaze, glimpses of your beloved humans hopelessly shielding their children from horrible monsters that would tear them apart and consume their remains. You knew those screams. You could hear them even now.

“You are the one to harm my beloved humans! I have seen your creations rise up, full of evil and malice. I have seen them destroy and terrorize and kill-!”

He held your hands to his chest, pressing your fists against where his heart would have been had he been human. The fight drained out of you, as you laid limply in his embrace, tears wetting the fabric of his clothes. His voice was ragged as he spoke. “I am full of evil, my goddess. I was full of evil. I admit, I who had been wandering in darkness did not know good. But you, who could have slain me, showed me good when you saved me. I can be good for you, as long as you do not leave me. You hold my pitiful existence in your hands.”

He reached up a hand to touch the flower crown. The crown disintegrated underneath his touch, leaving bits of ashes. “You see, whatever I touch, I destroy. But with you, I can control this damned ability of mine. I can see reason.” He swallowed heavily. “I can see you. And when I see you, I see all that is good. I can see the flowers that you love to smell and out of all of them, you love lilies the most. I can see that you love humans, though they pillage and lie and kill. I can see why all beings seek the warmth of the day and fear the coldness of night.”

You looked up at him. You could only see the redness of his eyes then. But beneath it, there was a being who you were certain loved you. And you loved him, as much as you loved your humans. He, who was evil, was nothing more than a creation led astray.

“I am sorry,” you finally whispered, a stray tear slipping down your cheek. “I...You will have to give me time.”

When you pushed yourself away from him, this time for good, you walked away.

When he saw that you had left without even a look back at him, he looked up as a large crow flew down. When it landed, it transformed into that of a handsome man with narrow eyes and bronzed skin and cheeks that would have revealed a dimple had he been a smiler.

“Namjoon,” Yoongi spoke, “Keep an eye on her for me. I will leave to deal with the issues of the Demon Realm.”

Namjoon nodded his head and hummed in agreement. “I will. A favor for a friend.”

Yoongi laughed. “Your associations with humans have made you more like them. A demon has no need for friends. In our existence, there are those who lead, and those who follow.”

Namjoon turned his head to look at where the little goddess had been. “And how would you describe her: a leader or a follower?”

Yoongi’s hands clenched briefly, like he could still feel her warmth, and his eyes were still pinned to where she had been. “She is holy. Holier than my damned existence. And yet I still want to monopolize her and make her look only at me.”

“So then?” Namjoon asked again. “How would you categorize her?”

Yoongi remained silent for a moment. Then, he vanished, leaving Namjoon alone in the forest. Namjoon thought to himself then: what about this little goddess captured the attention of a demon that had been damned from the beginning?

Namjoon kept a careful eye on the goddess. Though on the surface, it was due to orders from his liege, he could not help the insatiable curiosity about her. She was kind—though kindness was not much familiar to a demon like him. She certainly loved those humans, as foolish and terrible they were. And when she watched a wedding, there was a certain sadness lingering in her eyes that captured him.

And so, as Yoongi remained away from her side, Namjoon found himself fixated on this presence.

He had been following her in a crow form when he was caught by the pudgy hands of some kid who was little more than the neighborhood bully. The kid had thrown him onto the ground and menacingly reached down to start plucking at his feathers. He had thought about growing back into a fierce snake, who could rear up to bite the human that dared to grab him and leave him on the verge of death, when a voice cried out.

“Leave that bird alone!”

The child bully looked up, prepared to viciously attack the person who dared to interrupt his fun time, but swallowed his words at the sight of the glowering adult. The little goddess had taken on the form of a muscular man, with biceps that bulged like the size of a boulder, and the kid had been too flustered to come up with a retort. Instead, the kid dropped Namjoon’s bird form and sped off.

When the muscular man shifted back into the form of the little goddess, Namjoon watched as you ran up to him and lifted him up to inspect him. “Oh, I am so glad you were not harmed! I love those humans, but I do not particularly enjoy it when they decide to hurt other innocent beings.” You squinted down at him with analytical eyes. Namjoon gulped, fearing that you would have caught onto the true self that lingered underneath the disguise. “Do you think I was too mean by taking on that scary form, right?”

Namjoon shook his head, forgetting that birds should not have understood the human language. But you laughed like this was to be expected, and Namjoon felt silly: of course, animals like birds would understand the words of this goddess. “Good! Well, I will let you be now, little guy. Try to be more careful, so you will not get caught again. You are a handsome bird, with very beautiful feathers. There are many humans who would catch you just to capture your feathers.”

Namjoon puffed up in pleasure. Of course, he was beautiful. He was a high-ranking demon. This crow form was nothing for him. If anything, he was the most handsome crow out of all the crows that occupied the human realm. He squinted his eyes. What was he even thinking?

In his agitation, he fluttered his wings and flapped away, ignoring the tinkling sound of laughter that she made when he almost rammed into a tree branch.

When Yoongi returned and had asked Namjoon on how his goddess had fared without seeing him, Namjoon could not help the zip of pleasure that ran through him when he had answered that she had been more than fine, and Yoongi had glowered in response.

Namjoon then understood why Yoongi had been unable to answer him when he had asked which category the little goddess had occupied. She was neither a leader nor a follower. Her existence itself was a source of contentment, of happiness that destroyed the boundary between who was meant to control and who was meant to be controlled.

There were many creations that were beautiful. And there were few creations that were both beautiful and kind. But beautiful and kind creations never lived long.

You loved most the most beautiful and kind of the humans: a young girl who had lived as a daughter of a baron. You had chanced upon her on one of your visits, watching her help the poor though her family itself had little means, and when she had begged for help from a deity to help save her from her plight, you had been listening to her pleas that she not be sold to the vicious king that ruled over her kingdom.

You did something that you reserved for only your most favorite humans: you appeared in front of her. When you had offered her a way to avoid the favor of the king—a bell that would turn her into a bird that could fly out of the king’s grasp—she had laid on the ground and kissed your feet in joy.

But word of the goddess that appeared with the golden bell spread far and wide. And when you entered the human realm, wanting to see how that human girl was faring, you were soon captured by the king’s army. When you were lead to the throne room, your hands wrapped in chains, you were distraught at the sight of your most favorite human pointing at you.

“This is the goddess!” she declared. She turned to the king, who looked like a walking corpse with sallow skin and hollow cheeks underneath the gold and silk he wore. “Your majesty, I implore you to remember our deal. For her capture, you will let go of my parents and give us enough gold to revitalize our land and tend to our people.”

Oh, though she had betrayed you so, you felt a rush of pride. Betrayal for a good reason, you could tolerate, for you loved her so. But the king had merely raised his hand, and a knight rushed forward with a fell swoop of his sword. When her head, bloody, fell in front of you, you let out a ragged cry.

The king knelt down in front of you, a blade in his hand. You flinched as he wielded the knife...and sliced his palm open. He reached up to cup your cheek, smearing his blood on your flesh. “I heard tears from a goddess could cure all wounds.”

He lifted his palm back and watched with awe as the wound on his palm closed up. His eyes glowed with a sick greed. “Then it must be true. That the blood of a goddess can cure all ailment. You know, I had this knife brought to me for this very moment when I first heard the legends. It is made of a terrible evil capable of killing good. You should know that I was granted this knife from the Demon God himself after I sacrificed many peasants.”

He raised the knife and sliced your palm. You felt pain for the first time in your existence, but even more hurtful, you felt anguish bite at what might have been your heart. Gold ichor spilled out of your wound, and he hastily bent down to drink your blood. Color returned to his cheeks at once. You watched in disgust and horror as he laughed with glee. He sobered up, looking down at you. His eyes glittered with the remnants of the sickness that had imprisoned him so.

“Then it must be true. That the sacrifice of a goddess can fulfill any wish, a wish that would last for all of time. Your death can bring anyone back to life. For with your death, life will follow. I will be able to see my wife then.” He lifted the knife, and you were silent as he brought it down in a fell swoop. The blade pierced the flesh above your clavicle, but not a sound of pain left your lips. You pinched them together, even as your body collapsed on the cold floor.

You thought of Yoongi then. You wanted to let him know that you forgave him, for his deceit and for how he had tricked your beloved humans. But you were no longer capable of doing so. You were bleeding out on this floor, just like any other mortal that you had loved. You hoped that the Creators would not hurt the humans who had harmed you. There were many you had loved. And you knew that the Creators loved them even more so.

You saw a flash of red in front of your blurry gaze. A voice called your name, begging. You had never heard a voice that despaired like this voice did. You wondered, for a moment, why it sounded like Yoongi. Something wet splashed onto your skin, the sound of a crackle and a pop following. Ah, the tears of a demon, unlike the tears of a god, caused pain. But you did not feel any pain, not now. Ah, it was Yoongi.

You wanted to tell him that you loved him, that you saw good in him, that even when you were not around he could still be good. But your time, which had seemed to stretch on infinitely before, was now finite, limited by a few seconds left.

You whispered, gasping out short little breaths between the words. “I...forgive...all.”

“Wake...!” you heard.

And then you could speak no longer. And you could hear no longer.

The end of the realms was imminent. Underneath the grief of the ruler of the demon realm, fires roared and overtook earth. Soon, once earth was taken and destroyed, rage would spread and bring all that existed down to the burning afterworld.

The God of Life could not stand by and witness the end of all that he had created. When he had found himself in front of the Demon God, he had been prepared for the sword that the Demon God had pointed at his chest.

“You...! She is your daughter, and you wish me to spare the lives of the humans who...!” The Demon God had screamed in anguish. He laughed then, the sound ironic and cruel. "I know you beings are both cruel and kind. For if she had been less kind, she would have been less cruel, choosing her love of humans over...over our love."

The God of Life loved all he created very much. And he had loved his daughter, who had sprung forth from the love he had with his wife, very much as well. But as the Giver of Life, he was unable to upset the balance of the world he had created, not when the balance was so fragile. He could not bring his daughter back. Not without an equal trade. Not without a deal.

“More than you would ever know in your damned existence, I love her very much." Loved. "Yet, I too am unable to go against the tide of Fate." In that moment, for the first time in his existence that had always been steady and predictable, the God of Life relented.

"However, there is a chance for her to return.” He started. “But you must adhere to what I will tell you. So that you will not destroy the world, I will tell you of how you may be granted mercy from Fate. But there is little in this world that is certain."

The Demon God was silent now, his face stony and emotionless. But there was something dangerous taking root in his eyes. A sickness that could not be cured: Hope.

And Hope was the most dangerous thing, for as much as it could create, it could also destroy. Hope would be the reason why humanity would continue. And hope would be the reason why the king, who in his madness had killed a deity, did not die. And why many, many years later, a princess that once had been the most loved existence in all of the realms would be born into this kingdom in the absence of love.

For hope could destroy lineage, as much as it tried to preserve it.

A/N: As always, leave a comment! Though I'm not active like I used to be, I do check messages that come into my inbox and do see when y'all (if anyone is still here haha) comment. If anything, another motivator that had me come back to this blog just for this story was someone who messaged me two years ago. @theedungeonwitch, though I was in a not so great place then and wasn't able to respond to you, I'm leaving my flowers here for you now. No tag list, since I'm not sure who's still here and still willing to read this chapter :)

#yandere bts #yandere yoongi #yoongi x reader #yandere #bts x reader #bts fic #yandere x reader #bts yoongi #yandere fic #bts thriller au #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #duke yoongi #yandere male #bts scenarios

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logansargeantsbabymom · 3 months

Note

Hi could you please write an imagine for the f1 boys (mainly Charles, lando, Pierre, Charles) where they surprise the reader at work and she works in childcare. Thank you

Hey pretty, thank you for the request <3!

Work Surprises with the F1 Boys

A/N: I did make this where Y/N has different occupations working with children so it's not the boring same old same old for every driver. I hope that's okay!

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

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F1 Masterlist

Charles Leclerc: Pediatrician

I woke up at the same time I have for the past 3 years as I would everyday to get ready for work, at 5:30am. Now I was never and never will be a morning person but I absolutely love my job because it involves me helping kids whether they're sick or just need to get a physical for a school field trip.

I felt my boyfriend stir in his sleep next to me as I tried to sneak out of bed. My attempt of sneaking out though failed as I felt the strong arm of my boyfriend wrap around my waist and yanked me against his body. "Mmmm, don't leave" my boyfriend, Charles whispered against the crook of my neck, which caused me to shiver at the sudden breath hitting my skin.

"Baby, I have to get ready for work." I said as I ran a hand through his messy hair

A groan left his mouth before he continued, "Call out sick" his grip on my waist tightening as he snuggled closer to me to fall back asleep

"No Charles, I have too many appointments today and I won't have any cover. I'll be back soon though, remember the office closes early because it's the 4th of July?" that seemed to persuade him enough because I felt his grip loosen a bit and I took that as my queue to slip out before he had enough time to change his mind.

I'd only been at work for about 2 hours and I've seen about 24 patients and attempted to finish some paperwork but every time I get the second to sit down and start the papers, a new patient needs to be seen. I think the last time I've been more stressed in my life than I am right now was back when I was waiting for my score to see if I passed my pediatric exam to get my license and that because I have a waiting room of 6 more patients and all the other doctors and nurses are busy.

I can only thank the heavens because the next patient I had to see turned out to be quadruplets, which would save a significant amount of time on my behalf. Once I called the patients and led them to the room where I closed the door before asking the most important question any doctor could every ask.

"Who's Nicky, Ricky, Dicky and Dawn?" I was slightly annoyed with myself as I finished my question because anyone could tell who Dawn was so I could've easily excluded her from the question.

"I'm Nicky, that's Dicky, and that's Ricky. Dawn obviously is the only girl here so" Nicky said

"Right, well who wants to get their shots first?" I said as I looked at the pan of 8 needles. Each kid needed a flu shot and a hep b shot but as I looked around the already crowed room, none of the kids wanted to volunteer first.

With an unamused look on her face, Dawn reluctantly agreed to go first. It only took about 10 minutes to give all 4 kids their shots and when the last kid got his shot, they all bolted out of the room.

"I'm sorry about them, they hate needles" was all the mom said before she left to follow her kids.

It's now 11:55am and the last patient is just about to leave before we close for an hour to have lunch "Okay, if the meds aren't working for your son after about a week, I would come back but if he develops a fever and starts vomiting while taking it, I would suggest taking him to the emergency room." I said as I guided the new mom and her 3 year old daughter to the front lobby.

As soon as the last patient left, I locked the door before making my way to my office to attempt to get some of my paperwork done during my hour break instead of eating.

I was walking back to receptionist desk where I kept my paperwork so I could take them back to my office, only to find it not there. A look of confusion plastered on my face as I continued to look for my missing paperwork. I frustrated groan left my mouth as I realized I'd have to restart all that work.

"I hope you really weren't about to skip lunch for work mon cherie"

A gasp slips past my lips as I quickly turned around to see my boyfriend standing there with a stack of files in one hand and bag of Chinese food in the other.

"Charles!" I said as I walked over to him and took my paperwork back "I thought someone stole these! You scared me!" I placed my hand over my heart and I took deep breaths to try and regulate my heartbeat.

"Sorry, mon coeur but I had to take them because I knew you were going to skip lunch again." A baffled look played across my face because how did he know I have been skipping my lunch breaks to get paperwork done?

"Your coworkers have been telling me you're not eating at work. You can't tell kids to eat to grow and be strong and then not take your own advice. I'm here to make sure that you eat today so I'm making it a little lunch date. Sit and eat."

Lando Norris: Kindergarten teacher

"Ms. L/N, my dad told me that you're dating a famous wace car dwiver, is that twue?" my one student, who's name I just learn was Leo asked me.

Today was meet the teacher day at the school I taught at just 2 weeks before the first day of school and this question was very different than the ones I've been asked before. I looked up at the single dad behind him as I let out a little chuckle

"Why yes I am Leo, is your dad a fan?" I asked as I knelt to be at level with him

"Uh huh! He woves the orwange one!" I've always had a soft spot for kids and right now Leo is making my heart melt.

I didn't have a chance to respond before he ran over to his dad to tell him the good news. I got pulled aside by a parent who told me about an allergy her kid had to a specific cleaning chemical which I made a note of to avoid using in my classroom. I stuck the sticky note on my computer screen before hearing "MS L/N, YOUR BOYFRWEND HERE!" I could recognize that voice as little Leo's.

My head shot up to look at the door and sure enough, my very famous Formula 1 driver boyfriend was there with a bag full of school supplies and gift bags filled with goodies for the kids.

"Kids, I've got presents!!" Lando shouted which caused a little sea of 5-6 year olds kids ran over him making little grabby hands.

Once all the kids got their little baggy of toys, Lando talking to Leo's dad and I answered more questions, the classroom started to empty as Meet The Teacher time ended. The room fell in a comfortable silence as I started to clean up and organize all the supplies I was gifted today.

"Have you ever thought of having a kid or two?" Lando asked, my body tensed at the question

"I dunno, I haven't thought about it. Have you?" I asked as I looked him in the eyes.

"Everyday since we started dating."

Carlos Sainz: School Counselor

"Listen Jess, I can't keep getting you out of trouble. You have to stop getting attitudes with teachers over a small issue." I said with a sigh as I had to deal with a troubled 14 year old freshman for the 4th time this week and it only being Tuesday.

"It's not my fault Ms. Jones was being a bitch to me." Jess said as she shrugged and slouched back in the seat she was in.

"Jess! You can't go around calling your teacher a bitch!" I scolded

"I will if they're being bitches!" Jess shouted

The ring of my school phone is what prevented me from further scolding the student sat in front of me

"Ms L/N's office" I started as I listened to the person on the other line "Okay, tell him to sit at the door of my office while I finish up with this student I have now. Okay, thank you. Bye bye" I hung up the phone before turning my attention back to Jess.

"Do you have another student?" she questioned

"I have another meeting, yes, but you're my top priority right now." I said as I readjusted my position in my chair

"To be honest, I cause these problems because I need someone to talk to and I feel most comfortable with you." Jess admitted as she looked down at her lap

"Jess," I started sympathetically "How about this, once a week we will have a 20 minute meeting to talk about anything and everything you want?" I compromised, which got a nod from her.

I watched as Jess left my office, I attempted to clean my desk a little before bringing my other meeting in before hearing Jess' voice

"Woah, you're hot. Are you a teacher?" before I could questioned who she's talking to I heard a thick Spanish accent answer her question

"No, I just have a meeting with Y/N." Disbelief spread across my face as I recognized the voice. There was no way that voice belonged to who I thought it did to.

I quickly ran outside my office where I was met with the most beautiful man on planet earth and who I was proud to call my boyfriend.

"CARLOS?!" I shouted as I jumped in his arms before planting a kiss to his lips

"Sorry for calling your boyfriend hot Ms. L/N" Jess said before she walked away

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" I asked as he put me down but not breaking the hug

"We have the week off before the Miami Grand Prix so I wanted to surprise you." Carlos whispered as he kissed my temple

"Well, consider me surprised" I mumbled against his lips before littering his face in kisses.

Lewis Hamilton: Peds surgeon

I’m currently on hour 8 of my 12 hour hospital shift and I’ve never been more exhausted in my life. I’ve performed 2 surgeries today and I still have one more lined up, now don’t get me wrong, I love my job and everything that comes with it. The ups, the downs, all of it.

I’ve finally finished up a post-op check up with one of my patients before hearing my stomach growl, I sent one of my trusted nurse friends to do the post op check up on the other patient while I grabbed a quick bite before my next surgery.

When I got to the cafeteria, I got a sandwich and sat down with another one of my friends while I scarfed my food down.

“So what’d you do today?” My trauma surgeon friend, Nalani asked as she took a bite of the sandwich she got

“I had to fix a bowel in one kid and another one swallowed a whole bunch of magnetic balls so I had to remove those. One balls tried to stick to the other and pierced an intestine so I had to fix that up. What about you?” I asked a I took another big bite of my food

“Oh well two people came in impaled in the chests with a long rod. Had to separate them, they both survived. It was a real miracle of God because when the images were taken, it looked like neither one of them were gonna survive.”

I’d been prepping for my last surgery of the day before I finally get to clock out and not worry about coming back for the next 4 days.

I walked into the OR getting suited up before noticing a figure in the amphitheater which caused me to look out of pure curiosity. Looking up I was locking eyes with the most handsomest man Ive ever seen in my whole life, who just so happened to be my fiancé.

“What is Lewis doing here?” I questioned the surgical intern

“He said he really missed you. The chief of surgery gave him clearance to be there, I think he promised to autograph a whole bunch of things for him and his kids?”

“That sounds like something Lewis would agree to” I giggled as I started to walk to the head of the table before hearing over the intercom

“Good luck with this surgery darling, I love you.”

“I love you too” was all I whispered before starting my last surgery of the day.

Daniel: Summer Camp Director

“Alright everybody, can I have your attention please?” I shouted as I glanced around the room filled with 10-15 year olds.

This is my 3rd summer being a Camp Counselor and I have to admit that I always have a blast here.

“Thank you. My name is Ms. L/N, and I’m the main counselor here at Camp Kikiwaka and I’m going to be going over everything that we’re going to be doing here over the course of the summer and you then I’ll open the floor to you guys so you can ask me questions, okay?”

I heard a sea of “Yes” “Okay” “Got it” before I continued. It only took about 45 minutes to go over the expectations at Camp Kikiwaka and the summer itinerary, “Okay, now does anyone have any questions?” A small hand shot up the second I finished my question

“I thought the big kid camp was the building?” a little girl said

“Yes it is, the camp section for older kids is right next door, why? Do you have a sibling over there?” I questioned as I looked at the little girl in front of me

“So who’s that man and why is he smiling at you?” okay, that was scary at all.

Before I could register who she was talking about I heard an older boy say “That’s Daniel Ricciardo!! What is Daniel Ricciardo doing here?!” which caused me to shoot around to see if he’s actually here.

“Hello guys! Don’t mind me, I’m just here to be your counselor’s assistant for the next week and a half” Daniel said as he walked over to me and engulfed me in a hug, swaying us side to side before placing a quick kiss on my temple.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered, looking up at him to stare in his beautiful eyes

“We have two weeks before the next race so I thought I’d volunteer my time here. I already got permission” Daniel said as he cupped my face.

Turning around I let the kids know the news “Okay guys so this is my boyfriend and your guys’ new camp counselor for a week and a half, Mr. Ricciardo! You guys can go up to him and ask him questions just as you are able to come to me!”

“You guys can call me Daniel, there’s no need for formality. Alrighty, any questions?” Daniel corrected me

“HOW CAN I BE YOUR ASSISTANT IN FORMULA 1????” The older boy shouted which caused Daniel to let out a loud laugh before he answered the question.

This was going to be a fun week and a half.

Pierre: Therapist

To say that today has been stressful would be an understatement. The lady who was in charge of booking my appointments scheduled who people at the same time and then proceeded to fill my schedule today so I couldn’t place the poor girl anywhere so I did the only logical thing anyone would do: I skipped lunch.

Well skipping lunch obviously wasn’t the best idea ever because just about 4 patients after lunchtime is when my headache started settling in, right in that spot behind my eyes. God I hated headaches so much but I despised them even more at work because how am I supposed to be helping my patients if I can’t even think straight.

To make matters worse than they already were, the headache went from just being pulsing behind my eyes to throbbing every time I moved my head in the slightest moment. Thank god this meeting ended quicker than intended and I had 15 minutes before my next patient was to walk in which gave me time to pop a few ibuprofen’s and let it settle in, in hopes that this would go away before the next one walks in.

I must’ve drifted off because two seconds after popping the ibuprofen’s there’s a knock at the door. I suppressed my groan before letting out a weak “Come in!”

I heard the door open but I just couldn’t bring myself to lift my head up

“Woah, you look like shit.” I heard a thick french accent say as the person let out a little giggle.

I knew who the voice belonged to, the owner was my longtime boyfriend who I haven’t seen in 3 weeks but right now, I couldn’t even be excited because I was in pain.

“Pierre please, I love you but right now I have such a massive headache. I feel like I’m going to pass out.” I mumbled into my hands

“Did you eat? I brought food.” He said as he lifted up the bag of french food that he claimed I “needed” to try.

I reluctantly lifted my head so I was able to take a bite or two out of the food. After a few bites I could slowly feel my headache going away, letting out a satisfied groan I continued to dig into my meal.

“You look like you haven’t eaten in days” Pierre chuckled as he watched me absolutely scarf down the food he placed in front of me.

“I feel like I haven’t” was all I managed to get out before I finished my food.

By the time my next appointment arrived, my headache was nothing but a slight throb behind my eyes which I was eternally grateful for.

I made a mental note to thank Pierre in different ways when I got home.

Logan: Speech Therapy

I’d been working with this kid to say ‘Water’ for the past 20 minutes and I’m nowhere with him.

I work with kids who have trouble talking and I get them to where they need to be at whatever age they are. Like if the kid is 4 years old and isn’t talking, I have to work a lot with the kids to make sure that I can get him to talk and be at a 4 year old’s level of communication.

Something about this 4 year old though, I just can’t get him to say ‘Water’ no matter how hard I try. I glanced up at the clock noting that it’s almost lunch time and I would have to end our session soon.

“L/N, your boyfriend is here and he brought food for all of us!” My coworker Destiny said

“Logan, can you help me? I can’t get him to say ‘Water’ and I’ve been trying for the last 20 minutes” I’m pleading with anyone at this point to at least help me get some type of progress done with him.

I watched as Logan got at level with the kid before attempting his own way “Hey buddy, can you say ‘water’?” after a second of silence he tried again “say ‘wah’.”

“Wah” my body tensed at the kid talking

“ good! now say ‘ter’.”

“Ter” I can’t believe he’s doing it

“Yes! ‘water’ !”

“AMERICA”

“WHAT THE FUCK?”

Lance: Nanny

“Baby why are you here?” I shot around to face my boyfriend

“When the fuck did you get here?” I asked in disbelief

“I missed you. How about we dip?” The nerve of this handsome man.

“Lance, I’m babysitting YOURE NIECE because YOU didn’t want to”

“I’ll pay my sister to take her kid back”

“Jesus”

Oscar: Librarian

“Excuse me Ms, do you have the Pete the Cat book? Me and my friend really want to read it. Please” I heard a little girl say.

I looked down at her before typing in my computer to see exactly where in the store it was at.

“Yes, you can follow me right this way and I’ll take you to them!” I said as I made my way over to where the books were placed. “They’re right here then. Just come up and let me know if you need anymore help!” I said as I watched her and her friends grab different books before going over to the bean bags to sit and read.

Back at my desk I was trying to place pre-orders for the new Ana Huang book coming out. I only got to the part where I could place the amount I wanted in my cart before I was being asked a question

“Do you guys have the King Of series? My girlfriend really wants to read them.” I looked up from my computer only to be faced with my Fiancé of 6 months

“Oscar?? What are you doing here?” I asked in disbelief

“I was in the area. Okay well I was a few cities away but it was only a hour drive” He said shrugging

“You’re so weird. The books are this way” I said as I grabbed a hold of his hands to guide him the way to my favorite Authors section.

Max: Nutritionist

“Okay Mom so you want to make sure that baby gets as much veggies in his system and more water, Santa said he only puts kids on the nice list if they listen to their mom and eat what she gives.” I said as I directed that last part to her 5 year old son who scrunched his face before hiding behind his mom.

“See Chase, I told you that Santa said that. He didn’t want to believe that Mommy has ties with Santa.” She smiled at the last part before picking her son up to take him out. “Thank you again, Chase is going to eat his veggies, right Chase?”

“No!” he yelled

“Do you want to be big and strong?” A thick Dutch accent could be heard

“Uh huh!!” Chase replied

“We’ll eat veggies. That’s the only way.” I turned to see my boyfriend Max in the doorway of my office.

“Otay!”

“Oh well that was one way.” The mom shrugged

“Have a good day!” I shouted as she left “I don’t know how you did that”

“Kids love me”

“oh that’s not-”

George: Sports Coach

“RUN THE FUCKING LAPS NOW!!!” I screamed at the kids in front of me

To the outside world I would seem crazy for yelling at a bunch of kids like this but in reality, I’m coaching my brother and his bastard friends soccer team this season and they bet me $20 I wouldn’t say that in front of their parents, so that was a quick $20 I put in my pocket.

“CURSING AT KIDS NOW BABE?” My boyfriend George asked.

He was helping me coach them this year and he’s a really do-by-the-book type of guy and he really disapproved of me cursing at the kids.

“Sorry baby, they deserve it. They said that you’re too bad to be in F1” I said shrugging as I made up that lie

“RUN 2 FUCKING MILES NOW!!”

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@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @eddieharrington @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti @dhanihamidi @Ggasly.p @tellybearryyyy @a-panseuxalmess @love-simon @tallrock35 @iiaik0ii @Milkyymelanine @ilovsyou3000morgan

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