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#One stop solution for your dream home .
reyalvr · 3 months
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SHE’S MINE | 00
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CATCH ME, I’VE FALLEN IN LOVE FOR THE FIRST TIME.
synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers.
genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, chaotic fluff, smut
pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader
warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan, RUMORS isn’t related to anything that happens in this series
word count ┊ 798
author’s note ┊ YAY i finally wrote it! i really love the fake dating/marriage convenience trope and i’ve been itching to write it with kenji. this is highly inspired by one my favorite books of all time, terms & conditions by lauren asher! if you enjoy fake dating i highly recommend reading it. as mentioned at the top, this is only the prologue! i'll be putting out part one and the series masterlist asap hehe... as always, happy reading!
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SOMETIMES YOU WONDERED IF ANYTHING YOU SAID EVER STUCK WITH KEN. For the past year and a half, you had the supposed “dream life” that every assistant yearned for. It confused you, really, as you tried to ponder on what part of your job was envious. Were the late nights drafting NDA breaches so desirable? What about the press statements after altercations, were those résumé worthy? You let out a deep sigh as you watched Ken from the TV in his dressing room, crossing your arms as you sunk deeper into the couch.
He was on a press tour for his latest collaboration, his overconfident persona charming everyone left and right. You had to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes when he used his signature flair to charm the show’s host. At least he was sticking to the script… for the most part. He wore the product, threw in a few adlibs, and of course, flirted. Be it a talk show host or a random photographer on the street, Ken always found a way to leave people smitten with him- save except you. 
It’s not like you were actively trying to hate him, he just made it so easy. At first you thought it was just some awkward phase, like he was just trying to adjust to working with a new team. But then he just kept doing the same things over and over again. A brawl with an opposing team member? Just another Sunday night. A rumor about having a fling with yet another supermodel? Sounds just about right. 
“I mean of course I have to thank my team,” Ken’s voice cut through your train of thought. “It was a dream of mine to play for the Giants as a kid, now I actually get to do it.”
Tone it down, asshole. You thought to yourself, noting the sarcasm laced in his words. Of course the general public wouldn’t have caught on, but you had no doubt his coach and the other players would. Then again, he’d been relatively untouchable because of his rank in the sports world. You poked your tongue into your cheek, shaking your head as you sat through the rest of his interview. The clock on the wall counted down the remaining time, the bright red numbers casting a reflection on the screen. Two minutes left, and all he had to do was to keep the act up…
…Until he didn’t. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was about to happen next. 
“Now I don’t want to hold here any longer, but you know I have to ask it,” The host teased, almost like an overexcited child ready to tattle. “Any special someone back home?” 
Ken chuckled, just like he usually did when asked the question. “Cheeky question,” He paused and grinned, his eyebrow raised slightly as he shrugged his shoulders. “What if there was?” 
“Well, is there?” The host pushed, his tone eager to have the Ken Sato answer such a juicy question. He gestured toward the crowd before he continued. “I mean there are a lot of fans here today who would love to know more…” 
“Yeah? And if I said yes, then what?” He replied, his smile growing brighter and his eyes shining. 
The crowd cheered even harder, itching to find out the truth. You shared the same sentiments, trying to figure out what the hell Ken was up to now. Did he have a girlfriend? If he did, why didn’t anyone know about it? You stood up straight now, your right hand deathly gripping the remote. What the hell do you have up your sleeve, Kenji Sato? Your inner voice seemed to yell as you waited for him to speak up. 
“I mean only time will tell, yeah?” The host replied, leaning back in his seat. “C’mon Ken, it’s not nice to keep secrets.”
Ken mimicked the host’s moves, leaning back into his sofa chair as well. He shrugged his shoulders, licking his lips as he fiddled with his fingers. He bit the inside of his cheek, and though it was brief you caught it. You knew that look; his look of contemplation. Your grip on the remote was still taut as your breathing seemed to quicken the longer he waited. Granted it was only a few seconds, but those seconds felt like hours. 
He tilted his head slightly then, his eyes staring directly at the camera. It slowly zoomed closer to focus entirely on him, and he let out a small laugh before he finally replied. His gaze was strong, and it almost felt like he was actually looking at you.
“Yeah, yeah I do.” He finally said, throwing in a lovesick smile for good measure. “And she’s the best damn thing in my life right now.”
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reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.
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neverendingford · 1 year
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#tag talk#“I'm gonna spend all of today with you!” sorry you're 24 hours too late Ive already started dreaming of murdering people with my bare hands#should have picked yesterday when I wasn't uncontrollably seeing bodies dripping blood from the ceiling#anyway guess we go stone-faced today and question every single intention and context because I do not have the energy to figure out reality#please don't like this please don't respond obviously I can't stop you but I just want to complain I just want to scream#I just want to yell into the void can you give me that? I just need emptiness to scream into.#I don't want to scream into a pillow I want to scream into the endless sky.#I do not want to fill a vessel with my vitriol I want to dissolve it into a solution of sunlight and burn away the hatred I feel#I want to kill and maim and hurt. I want to be killed and be maimed and be hurt. I want to dissolve into nothing and make it all stop#I just want to be home I just want to be home I just want to be home I just want to be home#if you wanted to spend time with me you shouldn't have let me rot this long. if you move me I will crumble into punky wood full of woodlice#if you wanted to talk to me you shouldn't have left me alone inside the caverns of my fucking brain for so long#if you wanted me to be kind you shouldn't have asked for my fucking opinion#I will be normal again in a week but I am crumbling under this stress I am breaking and eroding and rotting away from the inside#it's super fucking cool how I can have the exact same experience seven years later that I did when I graduated.#congratulations you're now too old to hang out with your friends because they're two years younger than you and you're an adult now#congratulations you have to hang out with your peers who you've never connected with and always been seen as a freak to them#congratulations everyone is separating off into their friend groups and you're kicked out of your old ones so now you're alone#yeah this is a great graduation party you just sit in a corner and do nothing except wait for people to give you stale social niceties#everyone goes off with their friends and you're left to sit on the couch and read a book all alone#you'll never be invited and inviting yourself is rude so you just sit in the corner talking to yourself and fighting as your brain spins#growing up means growing out of what you know without ever having anything to grow into#growing up means being given responsibilities you've never been taught how to manage and you have no ability to learn on your own#growing up means all your support structures are yanked from beneath you because you're old enough to do it on your own now#thrown in the deep end because you should have learned to swim by now. everyone else did. why didn't you?#come on. everyone else can swim already. just try harder. stop faking it. you're just lazy. just ask for help - no I won't give you any#oh hey why are you so sad? you don't have any valid reason. stop trying to kill yourself you're literally fine just ask for help it's easy#fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck
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Only In My Dreams
Pairings: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Love has two sides. It can be pure, beautiful, and exciting, but it can also be lonely, painful, and the worst of all - unrequited.
Warnings: Mentions of heartbreak/unrequited love/alcohol, death and a curse word.
Words: 3.4k
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You should have stayed at home.
You knew you shouldn't have come.  
You knew it was a bad idea from the moment you walked through the threshold of the balcony of the House of Wind.
It was sad to know that this House used to be your safe haven, a place where you were happy and felt safe, where you could be yourself. 
But now it makes you want to leave as quickly as possible and never come back.
Because that was the only solution to not having to see the scene that was unfolding in front of your eyes. 
Your eyes - the same ones that used to contain love and happiness - were now sad and empty.
The same ones who used to shine with excitement every time you entered a room looked now absent - as if something had sucked away their vitality and left nothing behind.
Even your kind and warm smiles had started to appear less frequently until they disappeared completely.
That's how you looked now - no sparkles in your eyes and no smile on your face as you moved the food on your plate with a fork from side to side.
You stopped listening to the conversation a long time ago. 
It was another dinner night with the Inner Circle at the House of Wind. You were sitting between Rhys, who was at the head of the table on your right side, and Nesta on your left side.
You were trying everything to keep your eyes on your plate so you didn't have to watch Elain being courted by Azriel - the owner of your heart and the reason it was breaking little more day by day.
He wasn't to blame and you didn't blame him for his feelings towards the middle Archeron sister, afterall, no one has the power to choose who they like or love - but it didn't make it any less painful.
Pain - you were feeling it a lot now.  
Every time Elain laughed at something Azriel whispered to her made it hurt even more.  
Your power wasn't helping you at all right now.  
Being an empath had its advantages - it allowed you to feel and understand the emotions and feelings of others and increase and decrease their intensity, it also allowed you to know when someone is lying or telling the truth and to control and manipulate them, despite not using the last two (unless it was necessary) because you believe it to be incorrect.
But the thing most people didn't know about being an empath is that it affects your emotions and feelings, too.
It makes you feel everything more intensely -  meaning that you felt everything ten times more than everyone else.
A good joke that made others laugh until their stomachs hurt - made you cry with laughter. 
Simple things that made others happy - made you jump with joy.
And when others felt passion - you felt love. 
You loved with more strength and intensity than everyone, but you also suffered in the same way.
And when you suffer, it's like your light has been turned off.
A hand on your knee took you out of your thoughts - Nesta.  
She was the only reason you were here - literally, she dragged you from the library when you told her you wouldn't be joining them for dinner.
The older Archeron sister has become one of your favorite people. 
Nesta was the one who had the most difficult time in adjusting and accepting this new life, so instead of ignoring her as some did, you decided to be the first to extend your hand to her.
It all started with your mutual interest in books. It started with book recommendations, then exchanges and finally reading them together.
By the time you noticed, you were training together, sharing meals, and adventuring in the city.
Your friendship was not easy - Nesta made sure of that.  
At first, she tried to push you away with cold stares and nasty comments, but you knew better than anyone that it was nothing but a defense mechanism.
You knew that when she said she was better off alone, she really just wanted someone to hug her.
So, knowing better than anyone, you fought for her.  
You ignored the cold stares and faced her nasty comments, and when she tried to push you away, you stood your ground and didn't let her.  
Little by little, she let you in, and you got to know her - the real Nesta.  
Over time, the staring stopped, the comments disappeared, and instead of trying to push you away, she started looking for your company.
Your friendship turned into a sisterhood, and now, Nesta would fight for you just as much as you fought for her. 
Your sisterhood grew, and short after that, you were welcoming Emerie and Gwyn. 
Your girls.
Quickly, a friendship was formed between the four of you, and there was no one you trusted more than each other.  
They told everything about themselves, their past, their fears, and even their secrets. So, you did the same - except your feelings for the Shadowsinger, Nesta was the only one who knew about that.
You joined the Inner Circle one hundred and fifty years ago when you moved to Velaris to live with your great-aunt Madja.
Despite being an empath, you also inherited a natural talent for healing just like your aunt.
That's how you met Rhysand and his family.
There was an enemy attack in Windhaven with several fatalities and many injured illyrians, which required all the healers who worked at the clinic, including you and Madja, to be winnowed there by Morrigan.
As soon as you arrived, it was total chaos.    The soldiers who were not injured, and even some who were, did not stop running from one side to the other, nor did they stop shouting or grabbing weapons and demanding to go after those who fled making it impossible for the healers to help. 
The enemy had already been defeated before your arrival, so you were not in danger and for that reason, you did not hesitate to use your powers and made your way so you could stand right in the middle of the soldiers. 
You raised your arms to the sides and closed your eyes, and with a little bit of focus you let the soldiers' emotions start to invade you from head to toe and then with a long sigh, you took control of their emotions and released your power.
The soldiers immediately stopped in their places and went limp before starting to fall to the ground unconscious.
You put them to sleep. It was the only safe way for the healers to be able to do their work even though you didn't like having this kind of control over someone.
The only ones who were not affected were the High Lord, his brothers, and his cousin.
Their eyes were fixed on you, who remained standing among the now sleeping soldiers.
And when they turned to you for an explanation of what had just happened, they were even more shocked when you revealed to them what you were and what you had just done.
They had never met anyone with that kind of power, and so they were having a little trouble getting their faces back to an expression of neutrality.
Impressed wasn't enough to describe how they were feeling at that very moment.
As a thanks, Rhysand offered you a position in his Inner Circle. After some hesitation and several lectures from Madja about how it would be a bad idea (and lack of education) to refuse such an offer, you accepted.
Moving to the House of Wind, you established friendships with all the members, but Azriel was the one you became closest to.  
You became best friends over time, and before you could stop your heart, you fell in love with him.  
Even when he was already in love with Mor.
Despite knowing about his affections towards the blonde female, it hadn't hurt as much as it does now because Azriel had never acted on his feelings for her.
But you decided to wait. You believed that one day the Mother would smile upon you, and she would grant you the wish you carried in your heart every day.
Therefore, during that time, you were content to love him from afar - and in the shadows.
You thought that day had finally arrived after noticing the change in Azriel's behavior towards Mor after the arrival of the Archeron sisters.  
You couldn't be more wrong.
You couldn't help but find this whole situation ironic. After decades of seeing Azriel in love with Mor and hoping that one day he would notice you, he was now courting Elain.
The Archeron sisters came into your life and turned everything upside down. You were grateful that Feyre and Nesta's path led them to you, but you couldn't feel the same way about Elain.
Before you could wander in your thoughts even more, Nesta squeezed your knee, getting your attention again. 
You looked at your best friend and noticed the worry on her face, so putting your hand on top of hers, you murmured to her a small "I'm okay" and gave her a small smile. 
"Are you sure?" she murmured too, so no else could hear it. 
You nodded your head at her and returned your attention to your plate.
Rhys' voice made you look up, and you regretted it immediately because in that exact moment, you saw Azriel and Elain's hands intertwined on the top of the table.
You shook your head and looked at your High Lord - who had become a very good friend of yours.
"Are our plans at Rita's still on for tomorrow night?" Rhys asked. 
Everyone - but you - said their agreements before Azriel spoke, "Actually, Elain and I have plans for tomorrow night." 
Your breathing got caught on your throat, and Nesta's hand flew immediately to yours, grabbing it gently.
It was Feyre who asked, "Where are you going?" You could've sworn there was a hint of surprise in her voice.
"To the new restaurant that just opened by the Rainbow. It's supposed to be very good," Elain's eyes moved from her younger sister to the male sitting next to her, "so we decided to try it." 
Cassian cleared his throat, and he looked in your direction before looking at the people in front of him. "It's that a date? Are you going on a date?"
Azriel chuckled and squeezed Elain's hand. "I guess we can call it that." 
You stood up abruptly, attracting everyone's eyes, "Sorry. I just remembered that Madja needs my assistance to visit a patient tomorrow, and I forgot to prepare the medical bag." 
You excused yourself before leaving the dining room and making your way towards the stairs. 
You heard Cassian and Nesta calling your name, but you didn't bother to turn as you started to descend the ten thousand steps.
Through your power, you were able to realize that no one - with the exception of your best friend and probably her mate - noticed your lie.  Just as they didn't notice the tears that filled your eyes as soon as you turned your back on them and left the room.
You went to your aunt's house.  
The last thing Madja expected to find at her door at that time of night was her niece with red eyes and tears running freely down her cheeks.
She barely let you walk in before she wrapped your figure into a tight embrace. 
She had noticed the change in your mood recently but decided not to comment because she knew very well that as soon as you were ready to talk, you would tell her everything.
And that's what you did.
You told her everything as you both rested on her pink couch with your head in her lap while she caressed your hair, listening to your words attentively.
You ended up falling asleep with your cheeks stained from the tears, and Madja didn't dare to move. She refused to awake you from your peaceful slumber.
She bent down to kiss your head, and when she raised again, she saw a piece of parchment on the top of the table next to the couch, reaching for it.
It was Rhysand asking where you were. 
Madja answered for you and wrote to him, saying that you were with her and spending the night at her house. 
It didn't take long until your aunt joined you into your slumber.
The following night, you made your way towards the House after a hard day at the clinic. 
The day got worse when the patient you went to see at his residence didn't make it.
Sometimes, you hate your job, especially because of your powers. When things got too much for you to handle, you had to put a shield around you to prevent you from feeling your patients worries or pains.
The patient you visited was heavily sick. It was too late to do anything medical, so you did the only thing you could.
You used your powers. Let his emotions invade you, and then, with a long sigh, you took away his pain and transferred it to you.
That was the only thing you could do for him at that moment, and you are more than relieved that you were able to provide him comfort while he left this world, making his passing easier for him and his family.
You climbed the ten thousand steps, but it didn't even bother you. You were too busy thinking about your patient and whether his family would be okay. You made a mental note to visit them the next day and help where you could.
You pushed these thoughts away as you opened the door and entered the House.
All you needed right now was to be with your friends and forget about this awful day.
When you walked into the living room, you remembered that everyone went to Rita's.
Well, everyone, but you, Azriel, and Elain. The two of them were on their date tonight. 
And like a snap of a finger, all your emotions and feelings from the last few months and days came flooding back.  
Your eyes fell on Rhys's expensive drinks cart.  
You wiped your tears and everything you felt turned into anger.  
"Fuck it." You went to the cart, grabbed the first bottle that was in your reach, removed the cork and drank, sinking the drink down your throat and your sorrows with it.
Three hours later, Cassian, Nesta, Rhys and Feyre finally arrived at the House.
Amren had departed to her apartment after they left Rita's and Mor stayed behind saying that her night wasn't over yet.
The two couples had come talking about you on the way. They had waited for you but when you didn't show up, they assumed you were with Madja or still at the clinic.
Rhys had sent a letter to Madja a few minutes ago asking for you and when your aunt said she was looking for you too, they left hoping to find you here.
They just didn't expect the state they were going to find you.
As soon as they passed the threshold of the balcony and into the living room, they saw you.
You were laying on the couch with your legs off of it, an empty bottle was in your hand, and another on the floor by your feet.
"Oh my god," the High Lady whispered.
Cassian moved and kneeled next to you by the couch. His hand made its way to your arm and tried to awake you.
"Y/N." He shook you lightly.
After a few seconds, you opened your eyes and were faced with the General looking at you.
"Cass," you said with your voice dragging, "you're here." You moved to sit and wrapped him into a hug, one that he didn't hesitate to reciprocate.
"Are you alright, sweetheart?" He asked you while caressing your back.
"I am now that you're all here," you released a breath. "My dear friends", you looked at your other three friends who were looking at you with concern. "You're so beautiful. All of you. Did you know that?" You giggled.
It was rare for you to drink and when you did, you never got drunk.
Nesta sits next to you and puts an arm around your shoulders. You took the opportunity to rest your head on her shoulder, finding comfort in your friend's embrace.
"What happened, Y/N?" She asked you.
You started laughing before replying with irony in your voice "What didn't happen?" 
You pushed away from her and stood so you could face all your friends "My patient died. The male I've been in love with for decades won't even look at me and this House that used to be my safe haven, it's now the stage of my pain."
"Oh! Not to mention that Elain is mated but does she care? No! Does Azriel care? Of course not. I've been in love with him for decades. Decades! And he doesn't even look at me." You started laughing, "By the Cauldron, I'm pathetic."
Your family didn't seem surprised by your revelation - Nesta wasn't the only one who knew of your feelings towards Azriel, the rest of the Inner Circle knew it too, except the two in the center of all of this but you didn't know that.
Cassian pulled you into a tight hug and Rhys and Nesta moved to do the same.
If it weren't for this situation everyone would've thought that the world was about to end from seeing Rhys and Nesta hugging each other.
Morrigan arrived in the moment you were in the middle of your friends with tears in your eyes.
"What's going on?" Mor whispered to Feyre who was still in the same spot since she arrived.
Feyre explained everything and by the moment she finished, both females had tears in her eyes at the sight of her friend being hurt.
"What's wrong with me?" You asked them, your voice breaking.
"Nothing is wrong with you. Nothing." That wasn't your friend speaking. It was your High Lord.
Feyre and Morrigan joined the hug in the moment you said, "I'm never going to be good enough for him. I'll never be her." 
Tears rolled down Feyre and Mor faces, and both females were asking the same question in their minds "How long has she been feeling like this?"
Your High Lady spoke this time, "Y/N. What can we do? What do you need?"
You hugged Cassian tighter before locking eyes with Nesta "I just need my girls."
Nesta nodded her head at you and looked at the blonde female "Can you take us?" 
Mor didn't hesitate in agreeing. 
Anything to make you feel better.
Two hours later, you were in the middle of the bed with Nesta and Gwyn on one side and Emerie on the other, all of them with their arms around you.
The three of them had fallen asleep a few minutes ago after one hour of you telling them everything about Azriel and a lot of cups of tea and tissues.
You thought they would've been mad at you but they didn't. 
They reassured you several times that it was okay and that you could take all the time in the world until you were ready after you tried to apologize too many times.
Now you were staring at the ceiling thinking about your options.
You couldn't live like this anymore, knowing that Azriel would never love you back. 
So you were going to do the only thing you could in order to protect what was left of your heart.
There was something about your powers that no one knew. Something that you never had shared.
You had a switch.  
One that you could turn on and off whenever and wherever you wanted.  
In the same way that you could feel everything, you could also feel nothing.
The only problem? Everything that made you - You - would disappear.
But it was also your solution to your situation.
You closed your eyes and gave a deep breath.
You focused on your breathing for a minute and then...
No more emotions.
No more feelings.
No more love.
No more sadness.
No more pain.
No more tears.
You turned it off.
When you opened your eyes again, you were numb.
Your eyes lost their color and you didn't feel a single thing. 
Good.
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A/n: Thank you for reading!
[Masterlist]
General taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa
the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune
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siempre-bucky · 2 months
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hallucinations
Qimir x Reader
summary: Qimir takes quick action when you get sick on Khofar when you start seeing things
wc: 1.6k
a/n: for the anon that wanted some whump... I hope you like it <3 I'm working on requests rn and they're still open for Qimir!
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You wanted to like this planet. Khofar was a planet you had dreamed of visiting since Qimir gave you a map of the outer rim. The dense forest made you feel so at home, one with the galaxy—or at least you wanted it to feel this way. Your head pounded with every step you took as you trekked behind Mae and Qimir, your lungs struggling to fill with air. You weren’t sure when you began to feel so dragged down and exhausted, you didn’t feel this way often. 
Qimir pulled his pack higher onto his shoulder and looked behind to catch a glimpse of you. His eyebrows knitted together in worry, “You alright?” he asked, tripping over a rock but catching himself gracefully. You looked up with tired dry eyes, they burned as you tried to keep your gaze on him. With a nod, you drew in a breath and powered through to close the distance between you and your friend. 
“Fine,” you answered, masking the illness that took over your body. You wanted to crawl back to the ship and bundle up in the small sleeping quarters that barely slept the three of you. This mission wasn’t about you, Mae was eager to please the master and kill the Wookie. Right now you hated the eagerness that was powering her, it made her walk faster. 
“You don’t look fine,” Qimir sighed, “we can stop.” He slowed his movements as you entered deeper into the forest, his eyes looking at your feet to make sure you didn’t trip over a rock or exposed tree root on the small ledge you had to climb down. 
You raised your hand and put it on his shoulder to reassure him, tempted to lean against him for support as you maneuvered around to get to solid ground. “I’m good. We need to help her find Kelnacca.” He noticed the weakness in your tone, followed by the slight hoarseness that had him wondering when the last time you had water was. “It’s just in front of us.” 
The man looked forward, squinting to see what you were talking about. He knew the exact location and you were nowhere close to the cabin where the Wookie resided. He quickly realized that you were so sick you started to see things. “Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed as it dawned on him. He grabbed ahold of your arm gently to get your attention. You turned to look at him and he was able to take in the sweat on your forehead and the lifelessness in your eyes. “I need you to sit.” 
“I’m fine, Qimir. I feel ok.” 
Famous last words. A wave of lightheadedness crashed into you, and it made you stumble right into his chest. A chill followed, and suddenly you were transported to Hoth; freezing with no solution. Qimir was warm, the thickness of his coat warmed your cheek for a brief moment before he peeled you off of him. Everything was muffled as he sat you down on a rock, you vaguely heard him call out for Mae. The world spun as you watched him give her an empty canteen and urged her to go get water from the creek nearby. You swore you saw womp rats following her closely as she hastily disappeared into the forest.  
You suddenly felt the warmth of his hand hit your cheek, and you leaned into it, your eyes meeting his. His hand felt like a pillow, holding you steady as you struggled to stay conscious. His face finally came into focus. Qimir was just as beautiful as the day you met him, when he was still a gun runner for the Hutts, and you were freshly recruited by the Master for your set of skills.  “I think I’m sick, Qi,” you chuckled, giving in. 
“I know,” he sighed, using the side of his sleeve to gently brush the beads of sweat from your forehead. 
He looked around the forest anxiously, no sight of Mae and he had lost track of when he sent her. He grumbled something about her always taking her time and cursed her lack of urgency under his breath. Qimir felt you slump over and it instantly worried him. He’d never seen you so sick before. You managed to fight off colds with his remedies and hide your sniffles when you needed to. It hurt him to see you like this. 
The world went dark after that, and the next thing you knew, you were waking up to the smell of a familiar remedy. There was something about the spiciness that tickled your nostrils that instantly made you feel better. Qimir made it often when either of you got sick, storing containers of it just in case he couldn’t make it right then and there. He made it the first time for you just months after you met, getting caught in a rainstorm and the doors to the place you were staying wouldn’t budge. You were stubborn and demanded to stay with him after he shouted at you to find shelter while he tinkered with the bolts and screws. You were stuck in bed with a terrible cold for a week and Qimir never failed to bring you the special soup. 
You could hear the metal spoon drag along the bottom of the pot, the warmth of a fire soothing the chill you were still stricken with. A blanket had been draped over your torso, you snuggled in deeper to let it come up over your mouth, touching your nose. It smelled of him, earthy and a scent so uniquely Qimir. With a soft groan, you turned your head to the side to take in the room. It would have made a nice shelter if the Master wanted, it was large enough to hold a few people yet it had a charm to it. You felt as if you could live here for a while, fill up that nearly empty bookshelf in the corner, and bring those rusted-over monitors near the dirty window to life again. Maybe just not now though, your body felt as if an entire ship had been dropped on top of you. You didn't want to move, you couldn’t move. 
Qimir saw you wiggle beneath the blanket out of the corner of his eye. He quickly poured the soup into a bowl and carefully walked it over to you, kneeling beside the makeshift bed. “How are you feeling?” He placed the bowl on the table beside him and placed the back of his hand on your forehead. You were still burning up he noted, he took his hand and crooked his long pointer finger, letting it drag along the side of your face. Your head followed his touch so that your face was looking at the ceiling. It was almost sensual the way he touched you, slow and delicate, taking you in even in this state. He was thankful your eyes were closed or you might have seen the red flush on his cheeks.
“Like I got body slammed by a Wookie,” you answered weakly. “Was there a Wookie?” 
He chuckled a bit and shook his head, hair falling into his face, “No,” he said gently, removing his hand and sitting back on his heels, “You’ve been seeing things all day.” 
“Shit,” you cursed with a small laugh. Your eyes finally opened again and you turned your head carefully so it wouldn’t throb. Maybe he was right and you were seeing things because Qimir had changed? The green and brown baggy clothes you were accustomed to were different. He wore jet black sleeveless robes, well structured and they formed to his well-toned body. Had he always been that toned? You let your hand emerge from the warmth of the blanket and pressed your hand against his chest. His gaze was locked on your hand, watching intently as your fingers danced along the folds of his lapels, feeling the surprisingly soft fabric. 
“I-I have to go,” he told you, voice wavering as you touched the bare center of his chest. 
Your fingers were cold but his skin felt as if it was on fire. Qimir’s watchful eyes flickered over to you and your eyes began to droop closed. He took your hand and placed it gently on your chest, but he didn't let go. Carefully leaning in, he pressed his lips to your forehead.
“Stay—” you don’t know what possessed you to say it. You wrapped your hand around his collar again, this time it felt soft like his beloved brown jacket. Another hallucination, but you liked that one. Sure, Qimir had always been handsome, but him in those back robes did you in. Your heart was racing and it wasn’t from the illness. 
 “Eat that when you wake up please,” he whispered against your warm skin. “I won’t be long.” 
You mumbled incoherently and let consciousness slip away as soon as his lips left you. Though it didn’t last long, you woke up once again not knowing how long you slept for. Your eyes slowly opened, and a blurry figure was standing in the doorway. He outstretched his hand, his forearm wrapped in a metal gauntlet that glowed in the moonlight. A large black object flew to his hand. 
You blinked once to sharpen your vision. 
Twice to make sure you weren’t hallucinating again. 
The figure had his back turned to you, that object in his hand was a helmet. You watched as he slipped it over his head, his dark hair covered by the metal and he started to levitate inches off the floor. Those robes looked familiar. Qimir, you thought. But then you giggled to yourself—it couldn't be. 
You were just—hallucinating again. It had to be.
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olivianyx · 9 months
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OMGG I JUST GOT RESULTS WITHOUT BEATING MYSELF UP WITH ROUTINES 😭 + RANT ✨
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HEYY LUVS! I JUST WANNA SHARE MY RESULTS I MANIFESTED WITHIN 2-3 DAYS! THIS YEAR'S GONNA BE MY BEST YEAR Y'ALL ✋AND GUESS WHAT I DID? NOTHING. LITERALLY NOTHING. NUH-UH. PERIODT.
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⚠ LONG POST AHEAD, SWEARING ⚠
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WHAT I MANIFESTED:
🪄 PASSING MY FRESHMAN YEAR WITH HIGH SCORES
🪄 MY FAMILY BOUGHT A NEW APARTMENT WHICH WERE PREPARING TO MOVE IN 3 WEEKS
🪄 ME GETTING INTO THE VOID STATE 😭 AND MANIFESTED CLEAR SKIN! (DAYUM GETTING INTO THE VOID IS DEFO VERY EASY OMGG)
🪄 GETTING LESS ANXIOUS LATELY!
🪄 MY GASTRITIS AND ULCERITIS GETTING CURED
🪄 GETTING MORE COMPLIMENTS IN MY UNI!
🪄 GETTING TALLER! I WENT FROM 5'3" TO 5'7" IN 2 DAYS 😭😭
🪄 GETTING DREAMS OF ME SHIFTING TO MY WR 🥺 (ACTUALLY RESPAWNING LOL, AS THIS THING IS REALLY CONTROVERSIAL IN HERE, PLEASE DON'T GET ME CANCELLED- I'M DOING DEATHLESS RESPAWNING ✋)
🪄 MY MIND IS SURPRISINGLY CALM 😌 THERE'S STILL INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS THO (THOSE ARE ANNOYING ASS BITCHES) BUT I JUST IGNORE EM LIKE I IGNORE PEOPLE AT SCHOOL 🗿
🪄 GOT MANY CONFESSIONS TOO 😭 AND I REJECTED EM ALL, CUS I JUST WANT TO BE SINGLE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE ✋🗿 JK
🪄 GETTING COOL CLOTHES THAT MY MOM DENIED A LOTTA TIMES! (ACTUALLY I'VE ORDERED EM BUT STILL HAVEN'T SHIPPED TO MY ADDRESS YET LOL)
🪄 MY CRUSH BECOMING CLOSE TO ME HEHE 🤭 LIKE SHE DOESN'T CARE ABOUT ME MUCH, BUT LATELY SHE'S BEEN TOO CLOSE TO ME AND ALWAYS WANNA BE WITH ME LOL, 3 DAYS BACK SHE AND I WALKED HOME TOGETHER, WHILE WE GRABBED SOME SNACKS, SPOKE ABT EACH OTHER AND ALL (I FELT LIKE BEING IN A SHOUJO MANGA 😩)
🪄 A NEW PHONE! THAT SAMSUNG GALAXY S22 😩
I MANIFESTED EVERYTHING WITHIN 3 DAYS 😭 I REALLY CAN'T BELIEVE MY EYES, JUST. 3. FUCKING. DAYS. GODDAMMIT.
HOW I DID IT:
JUST FULFILLED IT IN MY IMAGINATION
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YEP, YOU HEARD THAT RIGHT. I LIVED IN THE 4D REALITY, I NEVER GAVE A SHIT ABOUT THE 3D AT ALL. OK LEMME BREAK IT DOWN FOR Y'ALL SO JUST PAY ATTENTION FROM HERE ONWARDS.
🪄 SUPPOSE SOMETHING UNDESIRABLE OR UNFAVORABLE CIRCUMSTANCES ARE HAPPENING IN YOUR 3D. WHO'S THE CAUSE FOR THAT? YOU. 'BUT I DIDN'T IMAGINE OR THINK OF THESE 😭' BABY, YOU'RE THE SOLE CAUSE, EFFECT, AND THE SOLUTION. THERE'S NO OTHER EXPLANATION TO THIS.
🪄 AS WE ALL KNOW, 3D IS A MIRROR. RIGHT? WHATEVER YOU THINK ABOUT, YOUR ASSUMPTIONS, YOUR THOUGHTS, YOUR FEELINGS, YOUR PERSPECTIVE EVERYTHING WILL BE REFLECTED. SO WHY NOT THINK THE WAY YOU WANT SO YOU CAN EXPERIENCE THE SAME? GET IT.
🪄 IF YOU WANT TO CHANGE THE 3D, CHANGE YOUR 4D FIRST. CHANGE YOUR PERSPECTIVE TO HOW YOUR DESIRED SELF WOULD SEE THE WORLD. KEEP DWELLING IN IT. IF THE 3D SHOWS UNFAVORABLE CIRCUMSTANCES, DON'T FUCKING GET TRIGGERED. GO BACK TO YOUR IMAGINATION AND DENY YOUR SENSES.
🪄 EVERYTIME YOU SEE SOMETHING ELSE IN THE 3D, GO 'BRUHH THIS IS MY OLD STORY, I ALREADY HAVE WHAT I WANT, THIS IS JUST FAKE' AND MOVE ON. DISTRACT YOURSELF. CUS THE 3D WORLD WHICH YOU SEE IS AN ILLUSION, IT'S NOT REAL. IT'S YOUR CREATION, WHY WOULD YOU TRY TO CONTROL WHAT YOU CREATED? IT'S ALREADY IN CONTROL. YOU ONLY GOTTA REALISE YOUR GODSELF. YOU ARE THE CREATOR, NOT THE CREATION. STOP FUCKING VICTIMIZING YOURSELF.
🪄 I GET IT THAT MOST OF THE PEOPLE ARE CONFUSED BETWEEN LAW OF ASSUMPTION AND NON DUALISM. EVEN I WAS, BUT SLOWLY I REALISED THAT WE'RE ALL NOTHING. WE'RE JUST LIVING IN OUR OWN CREATIONS. VICTIMIZING OURSELVES IN OUR OWN CREATIONS. IRONIC RIGHT?
🪄 THOSE THOUGHTS, ANXIETY, FEELINGS, EMOTIONS ARE ALL IN YOUR PHYSICAL REALM. YOUR MIND, YOUR BODY, YOUR EGO EVERYTHING IS NO REAL, WE ASSUME IT TO BE. WE'RE ARE SHAPELESS, FORMLESS, WE'RE NOTHING! AND EVERYTHING AT THE SAME TIME. CUS EVERYTHING COMES DOWN TO ONE THING, I AM.
🪄 K Y'ALL MIGHT BE SUPER CONFUSED, WHAT I'M TRYNA INFUSE IN YOUR BRAINS. SO WHAT YOU DO IS, LIVE IN YOUR 4D.HOW? IMAGINATION. NO MATTER WHAT YOU SEE IN YOUR 3D, GO BACK TO YOUR IMAGINATION, AFFIRM OR VISUALISE. ANYTHING IS FINE BTW. JUST STAY IN THE STATE OF WISH FULFILLED.
🪄 STOP RELYING ON METHODS, FUCK THEM. JUST BE. DON'T TRY TO CHANGE SOMETHING WHEN YOU ALREADY HAVE THEM. JUST STOP, SURRENDER, STOP FIGHTING, STOP TRYING SO HARD WHEN YOUR ALREADY IT. SO GO LIVE IN YOUR IMAGINATION, FULLY SURRENDER. DO THINGS WHICH YOU LIKE. GO LIVE YOUR LIFE. TAKE YOUR POWER BACK.
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LIKE AREN'T YOU TIRED? TRAPPED IN YOUR OWN CREATIONS? YOU CREATED THEM, YOU HAVE THE POWER TO CHANGE WHATEVER. TELL ME HOW LONG ARE YOU GONNA LIVE THIS BULLSHIT LIFE? YOU'RE REALLY GETTING COMFORTABLE BEING UNCOMFORTABLE. SO LISTEN UP, DO WHAT YOU LOVE, AFFIRM, VISUALISE, OR DAYDREAM, ZONE OUT, WHATEVER. ALL I DID WAS DO THIS MEDITATION IN THE MORNING, WENT ABOUT MY DAY WATCHING JUJUTSU KAISEN LMAO. THEN RANDOMLY AFFIRM, LIVED IN MY 4D, NEVER PAYED ANY FUCKING ATTENTION TO MY 3D, CUS I'M GOD. I REALLY LOVE VISUALISING, SO I PUT ON A SONG AND START DAYDREAMING IN MY ROOM SMILING LIKE AN IDIOT. ALSO, I DID SATS BEFORE GOING TO BED. THAT'S IT. THAT'S ALL I DID FOR 3 FUCKING DAYS, AND GOT WHAT EVER I WANT. ALSO I MADE A CUSTOM TAPE TOO (IT'S A GENERAL SELF CONCEPT ONE) I LISTENED TO IT FOR 30 MINS AND JUST WENT ABOUT MY DAY THINKING I HAD WHATEVER I FUCKING DESIRE, CUS IT'S ALL MY CREATIONS AND I HAVE IT ALREADY. THERE'S NOTHING TO GET, IT'S ALREADY IN ME.
LUV YOU, BYE 💋
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regaliasinteriors · 2 years
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mv1simp · 2 months
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Masterlist 💖
Requests: Open!! 😼
started this for the lolz idk how max verstappen seduced me into writing fanfic again 10 years after my last piece (a one direction wattpad classic at age 12), with a full time job and living on the opposite side of the globe but here we go 🏎️🏎️ do NOT repost/translate my writing I only post on tumblr so lmk if u see anything sus 🤨
MAX VERSTAPPEN (F1) X READER.
♥️ Into It - smut, romantic
the one where you’re trying to seduce your loving, sweet boyfriend into giving it to you good and rough.
READ PART ONE HERE (4k word count)
READ PART TWO HERE (4k word count)
READ PART THREE HERE (2.5k word count)
♥️ Dark Paradise - smut, dark
the one where innocent virgin!reader has been pining after her older brother’s best friend!Max.
READ IT HERE (5.5k word count)
♥️ Wicked Games - smut, toxic
the one where you hate playboy! Max after he broke your heart in a toxic situationship, but you two can't stay away from each other.
READ IT HERE (3.1k word count)
♥️ Friends - smut, dark
the one where innocent, virgin!reader asks childhood best friend! Max to help her get a boyfriend.
READ IT HERE (3.3k word count)
♥️ Popular - smut, enemies to lovers
the one where reporter!reader apologises to Mad Max after always pissing him off in interviews for the views.
READ IT HERE (4k word count)
♥️ What You Need - smut, dark
the one where innocent virgin! Reader recently started dating RB driver, Daniel. But it’s his younger, faster and richer ex teammate Max who treats you better - and he won’t stop until you’re all his.
READ IT HERE (4k word count)
♥️ Gods&Monsters - smut, dark
the one where you’re Lewis’s innocent sister, and are desperate to be a driver. Even if it means obediently following the coaching of your family's enemy, Max Verstappen.
READ IT HERE (3.4k word count)
♥️ Earned It - smut, romantic
the one where you and your devoted husband, Max, are happily married with your three pets for years. One night, he surprises you by bringing up the topic of having a real baby.
READ IT HERE (5.7k word count)
♥️ Low Life - smut, dark
the one where Mad Max decides to get back at his antagonising boss by using his precious bratty daughter who's promised she'll save herself for marriage.
READ IT HERE (5.2k word count)
♥️ Into You - humour, romantic
the one where you’re Max Verstappen’s new race engineer. Great news for women in motorsport! There’s just one problem though…you’ve been secretly in love with the Dutchman for years.
READ IT HERE (3.2k word count)
♥️ Just Hold On, We’re Going Home - smut, romantic
the one where you and your fiancé, Max, grew up under the weight of demanding fathers. After a bad race where Max ends up in a low place mentally, you know how to make him feel better.
READ IT HERE (3.1k word count)
♥️ Cuffing Szn - smut, romantic
the one where you find your beauty under harsh scrutiny from Max's fans when you go public. He uses a rather…hands on method to prove you have nothing to worry about.
READ IT HERE (3.3k word count)
♥️ Streets - smut, humour
the one where you’re the exasperated PR Manager for notorious playboy!Max. But when you’re sick of cleaning up his PR messes, he offers a very practical solution to your problem.
READ IT HERE (4.7k word count)
♥️ Double Fantasy - smut, dark
the one where you’ve landed your dream job as a FIA executive as Toto Wolff's pretty daughter. You’re eager to become Lando’s girlfriend…until he hands you over as an apology gift to Max.
READ IT HERE (5.6k word count)
♥️ Haunted - smut, enemies to lovers
the one where you're Mercedes' new rookie driver, and your very late presentation makes your relationship with your rival, Max, turn upside down. Omegaverse AU
READ IT HERE (5.4k word count)
♥️ Girls Need Love -smut, romantic
the one where you’re Carlos’ younger sister, the inexperienced, shy princess of your family. But when you meet his friend Max, you can’t hold back your want anymore…and neither can he.
READ IT HERE (5k word count)
♥️ High For This - smut, dark
the one where you're Ferrari's princess and often fight the Dutch Lion in wheel to wheel battles. But on a night out, you find there's something in the air (or in your drink) that makes you give into secret desires for your rival, Max.
READ IT HERE (3.7k word count)
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afterglowkatie · 20 days
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close to you | k.m./c.f.
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katie mccabe x caitlin foord x child!reader | 2.9k | how your mammy's jersey's came to be on your wall and you asking caitlin to add hers next to your mammy's
ˏˋ°•*⁀ this is part of my new little starfish universe. this was the idea that started the thoughts of this whole universe tbh. i always thought this would be a cute little concept so i hope you all love it like i do
You didn’t like the dark, so your mammy got you a nightlight and made sure it was turned on and working every time before she went to bed. But she’d always wake up to you there in her bed.
You didn’t like the silence of the night, or the occasional creeks of the house, so your mammy got a little echo dot for your room. Connecting it with the house so she could make sure soft music was playing to drown out the noises of the house. But she’d still always wake up to you in her bed the next morning.
You were convinced that something scary was in your wardrobe or under your bed, so your mammy would check every night before she went to bed. But she’d always wake up to you crying out for her. When she took the doors off your wardrobe and added fairy lights to keep the dark areas light and when she still woke up to you either crying out for her or in her bed, she didn’t know what else to do.
Katie didn’t know when she let you sleeping in her bed become a habit but she knew that it was one that would be tough to break. She liked having you close, knowing you were safe if you were in her arms, but she knew that you had to try sleeping in your own bed before you were both too dependent on each other.
Having tried everything Katie could think of, she almost gave up temporarily on trying to get you to stay in your own room overnight. Almost, until you basically gave her the answer that she had needed.
Another morning you’d woken up in your mammy’s arms after sneaking into her bed during the night again, ‘Good morning my little starfish,’ Katie brushed your baby hairs out of your face, smiling down at you.
‘Mornin’ mammy,’ Your voice, small and soft, only just having woken up, you cuddled more into your mammy. Though you clung onto her when you felt Katie start to move you off of her. Your mammy laughed a little, you’d always do this thinking that you were able to keep her down and stop her from moving. You might be little but you always had this determination.
‘I like being close to you mammy,’ Your words continued to play in Katie’s mind while she continued to do your hair, until an idea finally appeared, her final attempt at getting you to stay in your own room overnight.
‘Which one’s would you like, starfish?’ Your mammy had laid out a few of her Ireland jerseys and some of her Arsenal jerseys in front of you.
It was a hard decision, because you liked all that had mammy’s name and number on them and all of them had that on them. Eventually you had decided on one Ireland and one Arsenal, the Arsenal jersey being from the recent season since they’d also given you your own mini Arsenal kit so that one you chose would match that.
The next day when you’d come home from spending the day with Beth, Viv and Myle, you hugged your mammy tightly, ‘Starfish, I’ve got a surprise for you,’
‘What is it mammy?’ Katie carried you to your bedroom, covering your eyes before you both entered the room. Your eyes widened when you saw your newly decorated walls with mammy’s jerseys, ‘Looks so cool,’ You wiggled out of Katie’s arms and climbed onto your bed to get a closer look.
‘Gotta be careful starfish, can look but don’t touch them,’ Katie was quick to say when she noticed your little hand reaching up to touch the frames that the jerseys were in, ‘Now, even while you sleep, I’ll always be close to you,’ Your mammy kneeled on the bed behind you, wrapping her arms around you.
‘I love you mammy,’ 
‘I love you starfish,’
Your mammy’s jerseys on the wall was the perfect solution to you sleeping in your own bed, though every now and then when you’d have a bad dream you’d still sneak in or cry out for her. But for most nights since you loved sleeping in your own room. 
The jerseys you had on your wall were quite important to you. Every night since their addition, you’d say goodnight to each one and look up at them while falling asleep. It gave you a sense of comfort that helped you each day and only because they are your mammy’s and she gave you that sense of comfort and safety normally each day.
It was always you and mammy and mammy’s friends. ‘It takes a village’ well your village was arsenal, you were being raised there. There wasn’t a day where your little self wasn’t running around with the arsenal girls. You didn’t have favourites but you did have those that you’d gravitate towards. 
Laia, Kyra and Vic would always keep up with your energy and pull you in to cause mischief around the training grounds. Beth, and Viv, had Myle and that was an instant win in your eyes. Caitlin, well Caitlin was your mammy’s best friend who was always around and then became your mammy’s best friend who was always at your house and now also stayed there.
Katie was worried about how you’d react to her relationship with Caitlin and how it might change the dynamic in the house, but she honestly had nothing to worry about. You’d been around Caitlin enough beforehand that she was a familiar presence in your life. 
Some moments were a bit rocky, but you and Caitlin eventually found your dynamic and Caitlin quickly became your ‘Caity’ as you called her. At first your mammy thought you’d learnt her name and started to call her that instead of mammy, ‘No mammy, Caity,’ You pointed towards Caitlin, ‘My Caity,’ You smiled and so did both Katie and Caitlin. Caitlin had become someone in your life, close to what your mammy was to you. 
Caitlin became part of your daily routine, part of your night routine. Both your mammy and your Caity would squeeze into your little bed with you, read you a little book before you’d say goodnight to them both along with the jerseys of course. After a little while, it felt like something was missing. You couldn’t figure it out, but you felt a bit of unease when they’d both leave you for the night. 
Though you continued to go about your days, that feeling that something was missing was easy to ignore during the day but at night it always crept back to the forefront of your mind. It wasn’t until you were skipping along following your mammy around the pitch after a match when you were looking around at some of the signs that the fans were holding.
‘...can I have your jersey?’ Was what you read on the sign. It felt like everything in your mind cleared and it all made sense. You were missing Caitlin’s jersey on your wall. When they’d both leave your room, you’d still be left with your mammy’s presence but you didn’t have Caitlin’s.
‘Mammy, I’m gonna go to Caity,’ You tugged on your mammy’s shirt so she’d let you go off by yourself over towards where Caitlin was interacting with fans.
‘Alright starfish, be safe and go straight there,’ You laughed loudly when your mammy picked you up and threw you in the air before catching you again, ‘Tell Caity I love her,’ A kiss on your forehead and you were set back on the ground making your way to Caitlin.
The fans made your appearance known to Caitlin before you did, turning around to watch you skip your way across the pitch to her. Smiling wide and instantly scooping you up into your arms, resting you on her hip, ‘My favourite little starfish,’ 
You smiled wide at Caitlin and gave a little wave to the fans that you were near. You liked the fans, they’d give you bracelets and want you to sign their things and they were always nice to you so you’d always be nice back to them. 
‘Caity,’ You turned your attention back to Caitlin, grabbing onto the front of her jersey a little, ‘Can I have this? I’ve got mammy’s but I need yours please,’ You gave her your best pout in the hopes it would persuade her to say yes in case she’d say no, even though she couldn’t say no to you, ‘Don’t tell mammy though!’ Your eyebrows furrowed together, a big frown on your face and the fans that overheard and saw the interaction promised to keep it to themselves.
Even though Caitlin would almost give you anything you wanted, she was still a little confused as to why you wanted her jersey, ‘Why do you want mine, starfish?’ Caitlin was still holding you on her hip, your head laying on her shoulder. You were getting tired, match days were always a big day for you, and cuddling more into Caitlin so she’d taken you both away from the fans and down the tunnel a little bit while you waited for Katie to join the two of you.
‘When you and mammy say goodnight, mammy still stays but you’re gone and I need both you and mammy with me,’ Caitlin was the one to help Katie put her jersey’s on your wall while listening to the story that led up to why Katie was doing this, so Caitlin wasn’t unfamiliar and connected what you were talking about. Your eyes had closed not long after you spoke, Caitlin’s never left you. Her eyes lighting up in a way that they only really do when she looks at you, though it was definitely a different kind of shine they held when looking at you. 
‘What’s got you so smiley?’ Katie smiled when she caught the sight of you and Caitlin, wrapping her arm around Caitlin’s waist and giving you a light kiss on your forehead not wanting to wake you up.
‘Just thinking of how much I love starfish,’ Caitlin spoke so softly and her eyes didn’t leave you. Letting out a soft, content sigh before looking at Katie, ‘And how much I love you,’ 
‘Such a charmer,’ Katie chuckled softly, a soft kiss shared between them before continuing to walk down to grab their things and yours as well, ‘I love both you and starfish too,’ 
A few days after that match it was just you and Caitlin at home while your mammy was out for the day. You were bouncing around holding the jersey that you’d asked Caitlin for the other day, the frames were all picked out and you couldn’t be more excited, ‘Got to pick a aus-aust,’ Your eyebrows scrunched together, if there was any word that would be your enemy it would be australia. Letting out a little huff you remembered what you’d learnt from Kyra when she noticed you struggling the first time saying it, ‘A straya one now!’ 
Caitlin let out a little laugh while muttering under her breath, ‘Spending too much time with Kyra,’ The attempt at mimicking their accents would never not be amusing on top of your already mixed accent, ‘What about this one starfish?’ Caitlin was holding up her jersey from the world cup, the match against Ireland.
You recognised the flag on the jersey, lifting your hand to hover your finger over it, ‘Mammy lost,’ As soon as you said that, Caitlin was instantly worried that she’d chosen the wrong one to suggest. Even though she thought it would be the perfect one since it was still connected to your mammy but also since you’re Irish and Caitlin’s Australian that it could display the connection between the two of you, ‘But Caity won. I love it, thank you Caity,’ You beamed, grabbing out for the jersey while jumping on top of Caitlin and wrapping your little arms around her.
Having both Caitlin’s Arsenal and Australia jersey’s in your arms, they were one step away from officially being placed on your wall. It took Caitlin a bit longer than it did Katie to put the jersey’s on the wall, being Caitlin’s only helper was you and your little arms wouldn’t reach. But you helped by getting distracted with everything in your room and talking Caitlin’s ear off with whatever new facts you’d learnt recently.
‘There we go!’ Caitlin took a step back, proud that she had managed to finally hang the jersey’s so they were level and not on a slight lean.
The first time you saw it all put together, nothing else could take your eyes away from it. In your heart you could feel that everything felt right now, the piece that was missing was finally found and put into place. You jumped up on your bed and lifted your hand up towards the frames, ‘Be careful starfish, you can look but don’t touch them. Want to keep you safe,’ Looking back at Caitlin, you smiled. Those were the same words your mammy said when she’d just put her jersey’s up. Caitlin was your Caity and you just knew she was going to be that for forever and you couldn’t be more happy to have her in your life.
‘Caity,’ You looked up at Caitlin’s jersey’s, ‘Mammy,’ Looking back at your mammy’s, ‘My Caity and my mammy,’ Caitlin smiled wide while looking at you, she didn’t know what she’d done to deserve to have this role in your life but she would always cherish it. In Caitlin’s eyes you were perfect. 
‘My starfish,’ You laughed loudly when Caitlin came up behind you and scooped you up into her arms, tickling your sides a little, ‘Forever going to be my little starfish,’ 
‘Even when I’m big and stronger than you and mammy?’ You held up your arm and tried to ‘flex’ just like you’d seen your mammy and Kyra do so many times around training, they’d even tried to teach you how to.
Caitlin laughed, you really were just a tiny Katie, ‘You could be a thousand times stronger than us and you’d still be our little starfish,’ Your nose scrunched up when Caitlin tapped it lightly.
‘I can’t wait for mammy to see,’ As if on cue you heard the jingle of keys in the front door and knew it was your mammy, ‘Mammy! C’mon Caity,’ You slid off Caitlin’s lap, grabbing a hold of her hand, dragging her to where your mammy had just walked through the door.
Like always your mammy knelt down and held out her arms for you to run into, picking you up and spinning you around. It was the same every time and every time it would make you giggle, ‘I missed my little starfish,’ Your mammy kissed your forehead gently, ‘And I missed you too,’ Katie, still holding you in her arms, leaned over towards Caitlin, giving her a little kiss. Even with it being a short kiss, they both still felt your little hands pushing at their faces.
‘No, no time for that,’ They both smiled and laughed, Caitlin knew you were excited to show your mammy the newest additions to your room. You were excited, you know your mammy would be happy to see. Caitlin was important in your life and you knew she was important to your mammy, ‘I got a surprise for you mammy,’ 
‘Oh? A surprise for me?’ Katie raised her eyebrows, holding you out a little so she could properly look at you. You gave her an enthusiastic head nod with a small ‘mhm’, gripping onto your mammy’s shirt, ‘Well I guess I can’t keep you waiting, unless,’ Katie dragged out her words, teasing you. You let out a small huff, ‘Just kidding starfish,’ 
‘Caity, cover mammy’s eyes!’ You exclaimed once your mammy placed you back on the ground. Katie rolled her eyes when she felt Caitlin cover them, you took hold of your mammy’s hand and led her to your bedroom, ‘1…2…3…now Caity!’
Following your instructions, Caitlin removed her hands, a soft and quick kiss on Katie’s cheek, ‘You’re going to love this,’ And Caitlin was right. There weren’t any words that could express just how much Katie loved the sight in front of her.
Katie loved the relationship you and Caitlin had grown to have, how you also saw Caitlin as an important part of your life. Your mammy listened to you, her eyes a little glossy but all from how much happiness she was feeling, while you told her exactly why you’d asked Caitlin for her jerseys. How the arsenal one matches both yours and your mammy’s, you did ask if you could have an arsenal jersey with your name and Caitlin’s number so you could wear that to the matches sometimes. 
Your mammy listened to every word you had to say and at the end she gave you the biggest hug you’d ever had before. Looking over Katie’s shoulder you signalled for Caitlin to join. Caitlin joined the two of you, wrapping her arms around you both, kissing both of your foreheads. The three of you were wrapped up in each other's embrace and in each other's love. There was no doubt that you weren’t loved.
‘My mammy, my Caity,’ You whispered out, cuddling further into the two of them. 
Katie and Caitlin looked at each other, then back at you, ‘Our little starfish,’
281 notes · View notes
sweetchildcloud · 8 months
Text
How Alastor would be as a boyfriend/lover
Pairing: Alastor x A!Reader
Tags:fluff,cute,maybe OOC?[out of character],kisses,pecks,snuggling.
P.S: this is my first time writing about Alastor so im sorry if its not good :/
A/N: this picture is how Alastor will look at his SO and nobody can change my mind
@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia
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Alastor is a very devoted lover and would often do thoughtful and charming things for you like leaving flowers on your doorstep (even tough you both stay at Hazbin Hotel in the same room) or cooking elaborate and delicious meals for you.
He never really strayed from his polite, elegant demeanor or charmingly cocky smile, and seems to truly care for you a great deal. (everyvone at the hotel will always look at you with a stunned look because the radio demon actually fell in love with someone?)
You loved how sweet and kind he was to you and how charmingly adorable he was as well.
He would often shower you with gifts (of stuff you like) and affection like holding hands and quick pecks on the cheek.
You can always rely on him to lift up your spirits whenever you felt down.
You two had a very healthy and happy relationship and brought out the best in each other.
When you two got home [Hazbin Hotel] from dates, you would often watch anime together[the most gruesome ones the better] while snuggling and discussing the episodes.
You especially loved how he would let you hold his fluffy tail and play with it whenever you wanted to and you would always told him how fluffy it felt [obviously in the privacy of your own room,who wants to see the all mighty and scary radio demon...being cuddles by their SO with his tail? probably killing them on spot so that they will not tell anyone]
He would make you hot chocolate and bring blankets to cuddle with on cold days.
On holidays like Valentines day, he would get you elaborate boxes of chocolate covered strawberries, and take you on romantic walks in the forest of his room where the two of you would hold hands, talk about your dreams and hopes, and enjoy the beauty of nature together.
His ears would flatten whenever he was in a playful mood, and they certainly seemed very fluffy. They often brushed against your face whenever he leaned close, and the feeling of his soft ears against your cheeks always made you smile.
Alastor would often let you play with his fluffy ears and would sometimes rub you head affectionately adding a peck on the cheek in return. His ears were soft and adorable to pet, and you really enjoy stroking and touching them whenever he let you. [I LOVE WHEN HIS EARS FLICKERS LIKE UGHHH]
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Whenever you two have a disagreement and you start arguing, he becomes very calm and stoic. He is not easily provoked and is able to keep his composure even when you are angry and arguing at him. He never raises his voice or shouts at you, and rarely even scolds you. Instead, he listens to you calmly, tries to see your point of view and eventually tries to find a solution that works for both of you. He is a patient and understanding partner who values harmony and communication.[since he's the radio demon and stuff and radio is communicating trough words]
He recognizes that arguing and fighting is natural in any relationship, but he also realizes that it is not the best way to resolve issues. Instead, he seeks to find common ground with you and to find a compromise that works for both of you. He is also quite good at apologizing when he made mistakes, and is willing to accept his share of the blame whenever the issue was on his end as well.
But in situations where things escalate and you start to get overwhelmed and emotional, he will immediatly stop and comforting you and try to calm you down in a gentle manner. He will be very understanding and comforting, stroking your hair and holding you tightly, whispering soothing and calming words into your ear and even offering to make you a cup of hot tea.
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 Alastor is very protective of you, since he had developed a very deep and abiding love for you. He is quick to defend you from others and will do whatever it takes to protect you.
He is a very powerful demon and when he is very angry or feels that someone has hurt you, he becomes very vicious and ruthless.
He has a fierce temper when he fels that anyone threatens to harm the ones he cared about, you most of all. The thought of someone even attempting to harm you incensed him and filled him with a burning rage. This trait is one of the things that you loved about him as you feel secure and safe with him.
When Alastor is upset or angry, his smile never fades from his cheeks but it shifts into a psychotic grin that frightens many,but not you. His eyes become hollow and cold, his breathing becomes rapid and his grin seems even wider than before. He gives off an air of menace and it is clear he is about to go on the attack. In this state, He often seems unhinged and out of control, but it is clear he still remains calculating and calm underneath. This state of his is frightening to many other demons, who tend to avoid him when he is like this.
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When you're sick, he does his best to take care of you. He will cook you hot soup, brew you tea, bring you fresh water bottles and even rub your back and wipe your forehead to keep you comfortable. He is very attentive and caring when you are feeling ill and he will do everything he can to help you recover quickly and smoothly.
He will also do his best to entertain you while you are in bed, showing you all his favorite movies or programs [on his old tv],radio talking, joking around to make you laugh and even reading all the best books to you. [he will end up falling asleep cradling you on your bed,the radio will play 30' music,as Charlie gasps soflty saying how cute the two fo you looked as Vaggie tries to drags her gf away to do not disturb you.]
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i hope you liked this and if you want more tell me and if you have doubts or questions if in the era of Alastor there were TVs, yes there were TVs at that time as the first TV was created in 1927 and he was killed in 1933.
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i think Alastor would love old tvs unitl 1970 or 1980 because the others will remind him of Vox XD.
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fanfiction4sooya · 8 months
Note
Hello, lovely! I'm so excited to see that you're accepting requests again! If its not much trouble, may I please request something for Bada? Whether it be g!p or her with a strap but maybe her usually shy and inexperienced girlfriend surprises her by asking to be dominated for the first time, how she wants to be claimed by her in every way and reminded who she belongs too. And maybe reader calling Bada mommy or daddy because we all know Bada is mommy coded and daddy coded. She can do both. 🥵 (*Sorry I got side tracked, but dominant daddy Bada is so sexy to me.*)
Daddy Bada is something istg.... Thanks for the request, luv!! 💖💖 Hope you like it!
cw: nsfw, + 18, gagging, strapon usage, face slapping, spanking, cum play, orgasm delay, nipple play, a lot of pet names, choking, daddy kink, not really proofread;
🌸🌸🌸-
You and Bada had been going out for months now, everything was good, smooth even. She was a gentlewoman, so caring and funny and overall a calming presence, always leading you through things without you even noticing.
She was absolutely perfect, your dream come true. But there was one slight problem... the sex.
Not that it wasn't good, it was great. And although you always got satisfied you always felt like she wasn't 100% there, as if she was holding herself back the whole time. She always treated you as her precious little porcelain doll and that was great and all but it bothered you that she neglected her needs for it. And even though you were so shy you tried your best to think of a solution, to change that. You were going to be bold, yeah. Like why not? The worse thing she can do is tell you no.
You had the perfect plan.
She gave you the spare keys to her house a few days back to feed her dog and to hang out as she spent a few days out of town for some idol's MV, so you got everything prepared in the mean while.
You patiently sat on her couch, robe securely tied around your waist and a cute set of black lingerie underneath it, really hoping she wouldn't laugh at you. You knew she wasn't that type of person, but you were still a bit anxious.
You heard her motorcycle passing the heavy gates and her pretty voice greeting her dog. 'That's it, it's time' you thought to yourself as her footsteps got closer. You got up almost in front of the door doing your best to smile as it clicked and she stepped inside.
Oh she was hot. Jesus Christ.
She was wearing a pair of black joggers and a black jacket, he hair a bit messy because of the helmet and a silver chain with your name's initials on a small pendant. Her eyes lit up when she saw you there, her shoulders visibly relaxed as her smile grew wide enough to show her dimples.
"Welcome home!" You said, literally jumping on her arms. She held you with both hands under your ass and kissed you, sitting you both on the couch to hold you better.
"Did you miss me, baby?" She hugged your waist and you nodded as she kissed you again, feeling you on her hands. Suddenly bada stopped as she felt your skin under the robe. "oh, what's this?" She backed up, staring at you.
"A present?" You blushed, untying your robe and revealing the lacy lingerie, letting it fall back.
"Fuck" She kissed you again, ever so carefully. You stopped her, pushing her lightly by the shoulder. She frowned. "What? Are you not on the mood anymore? It's okay if you are not, baby" You shook your head.
"no that's not it..." You said, looking into her eyes. "I want you to promise me something" you caressed her cheek and she leaned on your touch.
"Anything, baby" She kissed your palm and you felt yourself melting on her lap. You got close to her body, your boobs touching her chest over the jacket.
"Promise me you won't hold back" You whispered on her ear, witnessing in first hand the hairs on her neck stand up.
"What?" Her voice sounded low and you reached for the box on the other side of the couching, handing it to her.
"I love being intimate with you Bada, I really do" You were saying as she opened the black box. "but I feel like you are holding back from what you really wanna do with me..." You did your best not to blush when she finally saw what you were up to.
The 8 inch dildo attached to a leather harness, two sets of white rope and lube. She looked petrified, thinking her next move. Your heart danced on your chest waiting for her to say anything. You couldn't hold your tongue anymore.
"I know I'm young and not as experienced as you but I really want you to feel as good as I feel" You kissed her cheek, your lips touching her skin a bit longer than a normal kiss would made her shiver, her addams apple moving so beautifully as she gulped, her hand gripping your waist and letting go as if her touch alone were enough to hurt you.
"I am scared I might hurt you" She chased your lips, whispering against them and nudging her nose against your cheek.
"I am not made of porcelain" You kissed her lips so lightly it was as if it never happened. "I know deep down you wanna teach me so many things" You felt her slender arm snaking around your waist to press you better against her body. "Do you want me to call you mommy?" She smiled against your lips, shaking her head. "Uhm... Daddy?"
You felt her eyes shift, going from playful to serious in half a second.
"oh, daddy it is" she kissed your lips so urgently you really got surprised. She stood up taking you as if your weight meant nothing to her, one arm around your waist and her other hand holding the box.
Rolling her tongue against yours you felt how she really was holding back before. This Bada was bold and way stronger that you thought she was, literally throwing you in bed with a yelp from you.
"Do you really want me to stop holding back?" She said, unzipping her jacket. You nodded, squeezing your thighs together as her dark eyes scanned you. "Use your words"
"Yes daddy please, don't hold back" you pleaded and she smiled, getting between your legs. Her naked slim body body felt heavy and bigger than the other times, taking your breath away when her skin touched yours.
"Good job" She praised, her big hand going to your neck to hold you in place as she kissed you, her other hand touching your nipple over the fabric of the lacy bra. You moaned against her lips when she pinched with a bit more force. Feeling bold you smiled.
"Is that all you got?" Well that was the wrong thing (or maybe the right one?) to say because next thing you felt was a sharp sting on your cheek. It wasn't a hard slap, but it definitely did the job on turning you on even more. You moaned, biting your lip.
"oh baby you like that?" She kissed your neck, pulling the straps of your bra to kiss your shoulder and then your chest.
"I do daddy, fuck" pulling your tits out she licked one, then the other, tugging on it with her teeth. "God, I'm going insane" You tried to hold back a moan and she bit even harder holding your hips to make you hump her thigh.
That was it, that was Bada. You knew she was fighting hard the urge to treat you gently and neglect herself once again and you were making sure to let her know you wanted her to let go on you. You pulled her hand from your hip to your mouth, kissing her fingers. She groaned when you pulled two of them into your mouth to suck, licking them.
"I'm gonna train your throat a little bit, princess" she sat on her heels, pushing them far back on your throat and making you gag. "That's it baby, good girl. Breathe though your nose" she commanded and you gagged again, each time that happened you felt your pussy clench harder and your eyes water.
She kept fucking your mouth as her other hand caressed your pussy over the lacy underwear. You closed your eyes, focusing on all the stimulation you were getting as your body started to shake. She pulled your panties to the side as she toyed with your clit, her eyes trained on your face when she entered your drenched slit with two of her fingers.
She pulled her fingers out of your mouth to kiss you as you gasped for air, crying as she pumped her fingers hard.
"Fuck I was going insane thinking of the day I could finally fuck you like a slut" She bit your lower lip, fucking you hard and fast, curling her fingers up on your gspot and thumbing your clit.
You moaned like a slut, finally also realizing how you were enjoying that rougher side of her, discovering with your girlfriend that you, in fact, liked it rough and not just her.
"Daddy" you cried out against her neck, hugging it. "oh god it feels so good, don't stop please please please" You said and Bada smiled, holding your neck with her left hand as her right one kept the rough pace.
"Oh yeah, does it feel good?" She choked you and as you rolled your eyes clenching for the sweet release she stopped, ripping your orgasm from you.
Your body violently shook, tears streamed down your cheeks as your body ached for her, for more. You were sure you passed out for at least ten seconds because next thing you knew she was pulling you by the shoulders to kneel on the floor.
"I said on your knees, pretty girl" She said, already wearing the strap. Her abs looked delicious with a bead of sweat going down and you clenched hard. "Open" she said, holding you by the chin and you did as she said.
She held it by the base and slowly entered your mouth, her sharp gaze burning your skin as you instinctively pulled her into you with both hands on her thighs. She smiled, petting your head.
"Fuck baby, someone is feeling greedy" You gagged, big teary eyes staring up at her and you felt her hips slightly falter.
She started slowly fucking you with the huge dildo, closing her eyes trying to hold herself together because of the stimulation on her clit.
"Your mouth feels so good" She fucked a bit harder, holding you by the held to use your mouth as a fuck hole. "your lips feel so fucking good" she rolled her eyes and when her stare went back to your face she smirked, taking the cock off. You coughed and she pulled you up to kiss you.
She touched your wet pussy again, this time smearing your wetness on it and gathering some on her fingers to spread on the fake cock. She turned you around to bend you over the bed, face on the sheets.
"So pretty..." She spread your ass cheeks to spit on your holes, watching you clench next. She positioned the cock on your entrance and pulled you by the hair, her other hand on your hip to steady you, her mouth glued to your ear. "Are you sure you want me to stop holding back?" She kissed your neck and your whole body shook.
"yes daddy, please" you didn't even had to think twice about the answer.
"alright then" She kissed again. "Tell me if anything hurts too much" She said and you understood that it was going to hurt, you just needed to enjoy while it wasn't too much for you.
In one go half of the thing disappeared into you and you absolutely mewled, tightly gripping the sheets and burying your face on it. She held your hips, slamming it inside of your tight pussy over and over again, knocking the wind out of you every time.
"Daddy, oh god" you cried out, trying to hold her hand for support but she had other plans, pulling both your arms behind your back as her hips kept fucking into yours.
You were going in and out of consciousness, moaning against the mattress without your arms to hold support your weight.
"This is your place, baby" She growled, fastening her hips. "Ass up for daddy, taking my cock like a good cock sleeve" She held your arms back with one hand and repeatedly slapped your ass cheeks with the other one, each strike making you cream even harder on the plastic cock.
She switched your position again, this time she had you on your back, your knees on your chest as she pounded into your pussy with abandon, spitting on your clit just to make even more of a mess, scratching the back of your thighs just to mark you up.
You could only moan, your voice hoarse and tired from all the throat action but you wanted her to keep going, almost reaching your breaking point.
"Daddy I'm gonna cum" You cried out, scratching her hard abs and she clenched, almost climaxing as well due to the end of the dildo rubbing back on her clit.
"Do it baby, cum for daddy" She moaned, feeling how it was getting harder to move her hips because of how hard you were clenching. Her hands found your neck again, not really choking but holding you in place. She fucked you with might, the hard skin slaps echoing around the room along with both of your moans.
You came so hard you felt your scalp tingling, gushing your creamy juices on her cock as she came as well, silently screaming against your lips as she did so. Her hands never left your neck as you kept kissing, sweaty and out of breath.You could barely open your eyes when she took it out of you, slipping off the wet harness.
she went down to clean you up,knowing very well you didn't like to be sticky for long. She fucked you so hard you could barely feel anything anymore, almost completely numb. She went back up to kiss your lips, spitting your juices back into them, licking your drool as it started to get too messy.
You fell asleep as she kissed yous body, praising you and telling you how well you took her, only hearing how she is going to tie you next time, her warm hands caressing your sweaty skin...
The other day you woke up to see her peacefully sleeping, her slender limbs all tangled in you. You felt sore but so happy that she finally stopped holding back, kissing her cheeks to wake her up.
"Hey pretty girl" She said, kissing your forehead. "How are you feeling?" She asked, her morning voice sending shivers down your spine.
"Sore" You shyly said. "How are you feeling?" You asked, trying to move but she kept holding you as if you were trying to escape.
"Very relaxed" She sounded way too cocky and you rolled your eyes.
"I am not trying to run away, you know" You looked at her arms and legs around your body. "After yesterday I am sure I got addicted to you" You blinked twice and her eyes darkened.
"Oh yeah baby?" You nodded. "Good to know..." She got on top of you, between your legs. "Let me see how addicted to me you are" She kissed your stomach and you whimpered.
Let's say that when you two finally got up after a few hours of hard fucking, you were definitely limping...
406 notes · View notes
hoe4sports · 2 months
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So Long, London
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Leah Williamson x reader
A/N: Please be sensitive about this. This is how i grew up and I’m going through a rough patch with my mother. This is based on «So Long, London» by Taylor Swift. Feel free to listen to the added song as you read this for extra feelings. Even if you dont like her, take a listen.
Summary: You grow up with a mother that refuses to work. You have to leave football to pay rent at 11. Your mother tells you that life is supposed to be hard. Until one day, Leah’s dad tells you that it’s not supposed to be this hard.
Warnings/triggers: Angst. Childhood poverty. Verb abuse.
I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist,
I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift,
Your hand was trembling on the door handle. It was hard to sort out if it actually was your hand that was trembling from nervousness or your whole body from exhaustion. Tears pressed on your eyelids, but you knew better. Your lungs opted for a deep breath to stop the shaky breaths that had been running wild since you started walking back home from work.
It was cold outside. The kind of cold that leaves your body shivering so bad that when you finally get inside, it feels like your core is frozen. God, you think. You are so tired. Yet, you cant seem to enter your own house. Well, it’s not really your house. It’s your mother’s house that she rents. Actually, she rents but you pay.
You take a deep breath before pulling yourself together. Building up your invisible shield to protect you from your own blood. Not physically, but mentally. “Just one more month”, your mother says. She says that every month. And every month, you believe her. The believing her is what keeps you going. “Just one more month, then you can focus on middle school again.” That’s what your mother always say. She has been telling you that for years. You continue to believe it. Maybe she will try to get a job next month. Except, she won’t.
“Life is supposed to be hard” is what your mother would always reply like it was the solution to all the problems in the world. To her, it was. To you, it was the cause of all your problems. You are only 11. You are supposed to be playing in the sun with your girlfriends from school. You are supposed to be chasing your dreams with your team. You are supposed to like to dress up in pretty dresses. You are supposed to go to tournaments with you bestfriends, Leah, Ella and Alessia. You are supposed to be free from adulting worries. You are supposed to be a child. But you cant. Your mother refuses to work, and your baby sister needs roof over her head. And your mother refuses. So you work. Because it’s just, one more month.
You are lost in your thoughts when your hand opens the door startling you. Your feet step inside the hallway, but it feels like your head is still outside. Like it’s floating away like a balloon, a million miles above your house. Your trembling hands puts your backpack down before it quietly unzips your coat. It’s soaked. But that is expected, you have been walking with the news paper for hours. The shoes on your feet gets neatly put away in the shelf. But you stop. You take them and the coat with you into your room, not wanting to take up too much space.
When you make it to your bedroom, you feel safe. It’s not really a bedroom, it used to be a pantry but it fits a bed and a small desk. It’s sad that it doesn’t have windows, but you like it regardless because it keeps the cold somewhat out. The coat gets put up on the pole of your bed and the shoes gets put next to the wall. You take your backpack off and place it down infront of you. The coldness of your hands are still present, but it’s okay. Life is supposed to be hard. You unzip your backpack to find the contents soaked, again. Your belly hurts. You promised your teacher to keep your books dry. Now, they are ruined. They are falling apart at the seam. You try to place it on your desk, standing up while you spread the pages hoping it will dry. Maybe you can try to glue it close when you get to school.
The door creaks and your head freezes. “Did you make any money tonight?” Your mother asks. You nod before emptying your pockets. 110 punds. Your shaking hand offers them to your mother. She smiles. She always does when you give her the money she needs. “Thank you, don’t stay up too late” she says as she leaves the room. You cant help but frown. You are so painfully tired. You get up at 5 every morning. You walk your neighbour, Mrs. Tiller’s dog for 5 p every morning. Then, at 6, you walk to school. You reach school just before 8. Your mother used to drive you. Then when she couldn’t afford the car, you catch the bus. But the cost of tickets rised, so now you walk. School is over at 4 every day. Then you walk home. Usually, you are home around 6.30 because you are tired. It forces you to walk slower. Sometimes you stop and sit on a bench to rest. Around 7, you head out to give out the news papers for tomorrow. There was no routes available close to your house, and most people won’t hire an eleven year old. So you take what you get given. From 7 to 11.30, you walk with the news papers. Sometimes, you get tips, explanations if it rains or if you are sick. Because people feel bad for you. But you don’t care, because life is supposed to be hard. Your eyes are tired as you try to do your homework from you soaked books. You end up sitting at your desk, close to falling asleep. But, it’s okay, you think. It’s only for one more month. Expect, it isn’t.
And you say I abandoned the ship,
But I was going down with it,
You are now 14. One more month, your mother still says. Every time you tell her that you feel like you can’t catch your breath. Just one more month. You now know that’s not true. That it’s forever. But you smile and keep quiet. You never make a fuss. You pretend to believe her. As long as you pay the rent, your mother doesn’t care. But, life is supposed to be hard, so it’s okay. You skip school to work at the local gas station. But your mother doesn’t know that you work there. She thinks you still walk with newspaper. It hurts to lie to her. She likes you, she says. But, she loves your sister.
Your mother hates lying. She yells at you if you lie. But your boss is your friend Leah’s dad. He gives you one check a month. Just enough to cover the rent. But he pays for your football with your friends. And he sneaks you cash when he can. That way, your mother doesn’t get suspicious. It hurts to lie, you think. It makes you feel on edge. Like you are always on guard. Like someone will come rip it all away from you. But it’s okay, life is supposed to be hard.
One day, you come home from work and from practice. You make sure to not come home too early. So you wait at the field, not wanting to cause any suspicion in your mother. It’s the same routine still. You come home, bring your clothes to your room, your mother comes in to ask for money and then she leaves.
One day, that goes all wrong. You come home too soon. You don’t mean to come home too soon, but you do. The exhaustion is ripping you apart and you need to sleep. So you sneak into your room with your clothes. But you forgot to change out of the pair of hand-me-down shorts Leah’s mom gave you and you are still wearing Leah’s brother’s old club shirt. It makes your mother furious. She tells you that you are an awful kid. That you are irresponsible. That she wishes someone could come and take you away so she doesn’t have to deal with you. And you don’t say anything back, you keep your head down and let her tell you how awful you are. She forces you to change and she then takes your shorts and t-shirt away. Then she slams the door shut. And she doesn’t talk to you for weeks.
After pleading your mother to speak to you, to aknowledge you for weeks. She looks at you with disappointment in her eyes. You try to explain. Football is the only thing that brings you happiness. And your coach says that you have real talent. That you might make it. Your mother tells you that might dosent get you anywhere. That football is for immature children. That you need to be a responsible adult and work. You nod. But, you aren’t an adult. You are a child. You are 14. But, life is supposed to be hard, your mother says. And you quit football. Because life isn’t supposed to be fun. Life is supposed to be hard.
My white knuckle dying grip,
Holding tight to your quiet resentment and,
My friends said it isn't right to be scared,
Every day of a love affair.
You keep the schedule. Work-School-Work. Until you are 15. One day, you get called to the front desk. You feel scared. Maybe your mother finally got someone to take you away? So you could stop being a burden. For a split second, the thought of someone taking you away, relieves the heavy feeling you have in your gut. Maybe, just maybe, things will be better, you think. But, you find your old coach at school, Leah’s dad. Rather, he manages to pull you out of your class to talk to you. The sight of him makes you want to cry. You want to ask him to take you away. To find some other family that you can live in. Maybe one of the group homes you learn about in social studies isn’t that bad. But you lie. You tell him, The joy you felt playing football is gone. And you haven’t been able to feel that kind of joy since. But you tell him that it’s okay. That life is supposed to be hard.
He frowns and shakes his head. He says that life isn’t supposed to be this hard. That kids needs to get to play and have fun. That you aren’t supposed to work when you are 11. That your mother is supposed to be working. You think about believing him. That his word might be true. But you remember. Your mother warned you. That people will try to convince you otherwise. So you shut him down. You tell him that you just don’t life football anymore. That it’s boring. But all you want to do is cry.
You turn your back to him while he calls your name. But you continue walking all the way down the hallway. To the left and then up the stairs. To the right and to your classroom. You quietly slip into the room finding your seat, doing your best at being invisible. Leah furrows her brows at you and tries to whisper something about what happened. You try to smile to her, but it dosent look real. Not at all. You can’t really smile anymore. Because you are so tired. You work all day and do homework all night. Your grades suffers from that. But, you think that it’s okay. Life is supposed to be hard, you think.
A week later, after working a night shift, you go back to school. Still in the same clothes as yesterday. When you get into your classroom, you slip quietly into your spot next to Leah. She smiles at you. And you try to smile back. But, you are just so tired. She asks you if you are okay. And she knows about your mother. She asks if your mother is being tough on you. You think about telling her the truth. But you just shrug. You smile sadly at her, and tell her that life is supposed to be hard.
When you get to work that night, Leah and her dad is there. You light up. Are you working tonight, you ask. But you know the answer. She dosent work. She doesn’t have too. She focus on football. On getting better. On being a child. Leah’s dad shakes his head. He says that it has gone on too long. That you need help. That your mother needs help. You feel offended. You don’t need help, you think. You pay the rent, you think. You are responsible. But when you want to argue with him, Leah looks at you with her warm smile. She asks if you want to sleep over. And you think about it. Your mother wouldn’t know. But you have work, you tell her. She looks at her father, he says you can have the night off. You can’t afford that, you say. But he smiles, he says that he will make sure you get pained. So you agree. To go home to Leah and sleep at her place.
When you get to her house, it’s like you want to cry. You get a warm bath with bubbles and bathbombs. As you dry off, you smell dinner. Her mom has made your favourite. Spaghetti and meatballs. Red sauce. Salad and garlic bread with Parmesan. You look at the dinner on the plate and you dig in. The feeling of being full is something you don’t really get a lot, so you feel tired and warm and fussy. You and Leah go to bed in her room. But before you do, Leah needs to go get her backpack from the car. While you wait, her mom pulls you aside. She tells you that you can always tell her if you need help. If you need somewhere to stay. That she thinks of you as her second daughter. And if it wasn’t for you being so full and warm and fluffy inside, you would’ve gotten angry. But you don’t. You thank her. Then Leah comes back and you go to her bedroom. Her nice room with soft carpets. And curtains. And a nice mirror with lights on them. She even has a big bed with two nightstands. You borrow some soft pyjamas. They look brand new, and you decline. But Leah says it’s okay. That she can get new ones. So you accept. Leah has already fallen asleep. So you scoot into her for comfort. Her soft snores are comforting, you think. And you cuddle up to her. She wraps her hands around you in her sleep. Like when you were kids. She’s still your bestfriend. You close your eyes. But you hear the door of Leah’s bedroom going up. You open one of your eyes slightly. Just enough to see, but not enough to let them see that you are awake. It’s her mom. She comes in. She kisses Leah’s forehead. She moves around to your side and kisses your forehead too. Then she wraps the comforter around you both. Just like she did when you were kids. But you still are kids. You feel confused as you lay there with closed eyes. Maybe life isn’t supposed to be this hard.
The next morning, you get ready together. You get another shower and you borrow some of Leah’s clothes. They are nice and warm. You don’t really have warm clothes anymore. It’s too expensive. But Leah’s parents takes care of her, and of you. Her dad has already turned on the car to warm it up before he drops you off at school. When you stand in the kitchen, waiting for Leah. Her mom looks at you with tears in her eyes. She tucks your hair behind your ear. And you feel the tears pressing too. You throw yourself around her. She hugs you back as you cry. And she holds you. You look up at her while you shake. You both know that you are not going back to your mothers house. But you don’t know what to say.
Maybe life isn’t supposed to be this hard, you say. And Leah’s mother understands.
So how much sad did you think I had,
Did you think I had in me?
How much tragedy?
Just how low did you think I'd go?
Before I'd self-implode,
Before I'd have to go be free
You sit across from your mother. It’s an office. It’s bright and white and clinical. You stay with Leah’s parents now. And you don’t work. But you play football again. Your mother crosses her arms as the therapist talks. You look down at your shoes. The eyes of your mother is burning into your chest. You feel a cry gather up in your throat. And you want to run away. To hide. To never come back. A part of you wishes you never asked for help. But a part of you knows that, if you didn’t get help. If Leah’s mother didn’t help you. You wouldn’t be here’s
She’s making up things, your mother says. You don’t bother arguing. You just stare at the floor while your mother takes a verbal stab at you infront of the therapist. She’s irresponsible, she’s says. Ungrateful, she says. The anger is building up in her voice. And you feel scared. Like when you were 11. And walked the streets to hand out the newspaper. In the middle of the night. To pay rent. But you don’t say anything. You just look at the therapist. She raises a brow at you. And you nod.
The therapist smiles and stands up. A second later , Leah’s mom comes into the room. There aren’t any chairs close to you. But, she sits next to you. Moving the chairs around, arranging for you to feel safe. It’s nice, you think. Leah’s mom is perfect. She is kind. Helpful. And she won’t say mean things about you. Not even when you aren’t there. Her hand takes yours. It’s magical, you think. You feel safer. Warmer. Stronger. Just as if her hands have superpowers.
The therapist continues on talking. You can’t really underatand everything. You are just tired. Even though you have stayed at Leah’s for a few weeks, you still feel tired. Leah’s mom got worried, so she took you to the doctor. You hadn’t really been there before, but she came with her. The doctor did tests and took you blood. Then he told you that you were burned out. That he was pulling you out of school for a few weeks. That you needed to do something fun. Fun to you was football. Or used to bed but it was too late to play now. You got scared, but Leah’s mom said that she was gonna take care of it. You felt scared to believe her, but you did. And she took care of it. You got a tutor that helped you better your grades. You started football with Leah, and you loved it again. You feel like you might die if you have to go to your mother again.
The therapist talks. Leah’s mom says that you are kind. That you help out at home without being told to. That she sometimes stops you from overworking yourself. That she reminds you to be a kid. That you are respectful. And polite. And, easy to love. You feel warm inside when Leah’s mom talks about you. But you can see your mother’s face when you look up. She is angry. Her face is tight. And she’s smirking at you in a way that scares you, like payback.
The therapist then talks to you. He asked you questions and you don’t really know the answers to anything. You shrug and hold on to Leah’s mom. To comfort. To her love. The room is silent as you mother looks at you. Leah’s mom looks at you. The therapist looks at you. You gulp before looking your mother in her eyes. You hold Leah’s mom tight. Life isn’t supposed to be this hard, you say.
You swore that you loved me but where were the clues?
I died on the altar waiting for the proof,
You sacrificed us to the gods of your blues
You stay with Leah’s parents. Permanently, you decided. You get new clothes. And a bedroom with fairy lights. And carpets. And a desk. And a big bed. And clothes. And cleats and workout clothes. Even a new phone and a computer for your school work. You like it, but you feel scared. Maybe this is too much, you think. Maybe you are too expensive, you worry. But Leah’s mom reads your mind. She assures you that you deserve a space for you. That you need things. A room. Clothes. That you deserve dignity.
Life gets better from here. When Leah celebrates her 16th birthday with your 16th birthday, you feel sad. You don’t know many people. But you are happy for Leah. Because her family is coming over with gifts for her. You decide to wait upstairs as you sniffle before putting your new summer dress on. It’s pink and it’s the nicest dress that you own. The only dress you own. You hear Leah callling from downstairs, and you feel embarrassed that you made her wait for her gifts so you hurry down. But you stop mid stairs. Leah’s family has gather at the bottom of the stairs. They have gifts and cake and balloons in their hands. And they all yell, surprise! It makes you confused until Leah comes up and grabs your hand. She tells you that it’s your gifts. Your cakes. Your ballons. And your family. You feel grateful as you tear up. You blow your candles for the first time ever and her family hugs you. It feels safe. It feels like home. Home with Leah and her family.
She’s your bestfriend. But after your birthday party. You lay in the big swing in the garden together. Looking at clouds. Hearts. Starts. Balls. Cats. The skies has shapes. You haven’t really noticed it before. Leah grabs your hand as you both lay there. And you grab hers. It feels safe with Leah. She has been your bestfriends since you went to kindergarten together. But that changes. Leah kisses you. And you kiss her back. And suddenly, you are girlfriends.
At night, you get your makeup off and put your new soft pjs on. You start to think that this life is good. This is how life was supposed to be. And you feel like you might have accepted it. That it’s okay to feel happy. That this is what a family feels like. You start brushing your hair before preparing to braid it. You sit in the chair watching your hands brain in the mirror. You hear your phone buzz, and you look at it. It’s your mother. For the first time in a year. And you spiral. Immediately bursting into Leah’s room and her arms. She holds you tight. Her mother brings tea and you watch a movie together. Eventually, you pass out from exhaustion. And Leah, deletes the message. Leah says, life isn’t supposed to be this hard before she kisses the top of you head keeping you safe.
And I'm just getting color back into my face,
I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place,
For so long, London
You are 17 now, and you finally got an offer to play for a club. You and Leah, got an offer together. But you don’t know how to feel. You are leaving to play. Leah is playing for Arsenal. She has been for a year. You got accepted into the girls under 18’s squad, but you made big progress. You didn’t think that it could be this good, that you deserved a life like this. But here you are. Leah’s mom and dad comes to every game. If you and Leah play at the same time; they split up so you can have someone there for you. You are scared to admit it, but you love it.
But now, Barcelona is knocking on your door. Leah’s door aswell. Leah has set her heart to leave. Barcelona is the greatest women’s club in the world, and she is one of the greatest players of her age. You are not there yet, but you get there eventually. But you don’t know that yet.
You feel scared. If Leah leaves and you stay behind, then she might break up with you. But she reassures you that she won’t. Because she loves you. And she chose you. Then you feel scared again. If Leah leaves and you stay behind, then where are you gonna stay. Leah’s mom laughs and says that this is your home too. That you can stay here for as long as you wish before you grow up. She says that you can go and come back if it gets too much.
That makes you feel safe. Leah’s family makes you feel safe. Her dad helps you make a decision. He tests your speed. Your strength. Your one vs one. Your dribbles. Your shots. Your agility. He watches Barcelona’s games on the tv with you. You analyse the team together taking notes to see if it matches with your current shape.
After a week, you call Barcelona back. You hang up after the call feeling empty as you walk down stairs. Leah sits down in the living room with her mom and her dad. They all look at you. Her dad looks worried. Leah looks terrified. Her mom smiles at you, like she always does. Always creating a safe heaven for you.
You gulp. Leah asks you, did you decline, she says. You swallow as you sight. Tears starts to press on your eyelids and your phone feels like it burns holes in your pockets. Leah takes a step towards you. You can see tears in her eyes too. You let out a breath and look at her.
Life isn’t supposed to be this hard, you say. I am going with you to Barcelona, you confirm and Leah breaks out in a huge smile. She pulls you in for a hug. Her mom and dad hugs you both at the same time. Your mom and dad hugs you both at the same time. A family hug.
A moment of warm sun,
But I'm not the one,
So long, London
You stare at your bags. You stare at Leah’s bags. Your dad looks at the bags before he starts shuffling them around to fit into the trunk of his car. Somehow, he makes it happen. You have dinner together for the last time. Spaghetti, meatballs, salad, garlic bread with Parmesan. Your favourite. It feels like the end of an era. You feel stronger now. Like you have grown into a woman. You have more respect for yourself now.
After dinner, you all drive to the airport. Ready to take on the world together. You and Leah, in your new apartment in Barcelona. As you pass through busy London streets, you pass people. Elders, youngsters, families and kids. You pass stores like Claire’s and primark. You pass a football field with little girls playing football. It makes you smile. You think about how one of those girls might be the next big thing. How all they need is one person who believes in them. One person to change it all.
You look over at Leah who is asleep. She always does this, falls asleep in rides. Trains, cars or planes; she always falls asleep. You grab your phone and go to the message section. You decide to type in a message. The message is to your mother, former mother. You tell her that you are moving to Spain. To play football with Leah. That your parents are diving you to the airport. That you hope she rottens away alone. And to never contact you again.
As you press send; you block her number. You look up when it’s done feeling 100 kilos lighter. Outside, the rain suddenly dries up and sun breaks through the heavy sky. You lower your shoulders as you breathe in the London smell for the last time, at least for a while. It’s good. You know that this is the start of your life. This is you prioritising you. That this is what you need. A place to call home, that doesn’t have any memories of your former mother.
At the airplane, you get to sit next to the window. You put your phone in airplane mode and watches as the flight takes off. The trees becomes small underneath you. The houses becomes like small sheds. The horses looks like grains of rice and you look over to Leah who is fast asleep holding you hand. You smile as you turn your head back to the window. The sun is shining more and more as you move higher up. You look at the familiar landscape while it disappears and whisper underneath your breath,
So long, London.
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astralfortune · 3 months
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You're the manager of a rising idol group. When a fan finds their apartment and posts it online, your group is forced to move to another home. Which happens to be the same apartment complex as yours.
Now, this wouldn't be a problem except for one thing. Nobody knows that you're a completely different person at home! Will you do whatever it takes to keep up the act at work or will you reveal your true self to your new neighbors?
Bridging the Gap is a simple slice-of-life story about letting down your guard and connecting with the people you're around. Play as the manager of an idol group and help them as they settle into their new home and prepare for their comeback.
Play as Male, Female, or Non-Binary
Choose between four work personalities (Stoic, Aloof, Caring, Energetic) and four home personalities (Shy, Reserved, Prickly, Easygoing)
Experience the personality gap lifestyle
Manage your idol group and build your relationship with Fortune
Perhaps find love with one of them?
Romance Options
Taeyang/Hayoon Lee
Leader of the group, Fortune
As the leader, they carry a heavy burden on their shoulders but that doesn’t stop them from pursuing their dreams and striving to be the foundation their fledgling group needs. Calm and perceptive, they take things in stride and somehow always seem to find the best solutions to any complications. Will you be the equal they need in the middle of change?
Taeyang stands at 5'9 with short black hair while Hayoon is 5’7 with long black hair. Their deep brown eyes show every emotion.
Xavier/Xanthe Cothran
Vice leader of Fortune
X is the quiet sort, preferring to let the others do the talking. They’re passionate about their work, often the last one to leave the practice room. That doesn’t mean they’re cold or distant. In fact, they love spending time with their group even if they don’t say anything. Will you be their solace from the noise of the industry?
Both Xavier and Xanthe are 6 '0 with shoulder length dark brown hair. Xavier prefers to tie it back while Xanthe keeps it loose. Their hazel eyes are deep and captivating.
Elias/Elaine Auclair
Dance leader of Fortune
The most outgoing of the group, E is very much a mood maker. They love dragging the members for outings or meals. New experiences are what motivates E to become more successful. Somehow they almost always have a smile on their face, so surely they must be hiding something underneath, right? Right?
Elias stands at 5’10 with short blonde hair, often styled. Elaine is 5’7 and her long blonde hair is well taken care of. Their blue eyes shine with life and joy.
Oliver/Olivia Harcourt
The youngest of Fortune
The youngest of the group and also the oldest of four siblings. O shamelessly takes advantage of their position now that they have others to be the responsible ones. They’re cheeky and full of life, O is often found with E coming up with a variety of shenanigans. However, underneath all the mischief O cares deeply about those they’re close to, including you. Will you find comfort and healing during your time with O?
Oliver is 5’7 while Olivia stands at 5’5. They both have blue dyed hair. Oliver keeps his short while Olivia’s is shoulder length. Their brown eyes are warm and welcoming.
Demo: Here
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navillee · 3 months
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Zayne's subtle sub behavior pt. III
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Let's bring some specific scenarios, shall we? What if Zayne is a secret sucker for your scent?
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Back to the first appointment you had with Zayne after long years no see, even though he called out his own bluntness towards you out after you had left the doctor's chambers, there's another detail that kept taunting him other than his own behavior: your perfume. You see, Zayne isn't the type that has the best sense of smell, not when his nose got so habituated with the permanent smell of hand sanitizer, saline solution, and literally organs. He didn't even use a cologne, not after he watched a nauseous patient throwing up at Greyson's white coat in his internal days, at least. However, when you open the door, the vicious aroma filled up the entire chamber, imbuing Zayne's brain into an obsessed state that led him to act, as he would say, outside his own expectations.
As he headed home that day, all he could think was you. How you're even more beautiful then he could remember, how he could listen to your heart beat through the stethoscope – the reason because he became what he is now – his stupid nervousness that made it difficult to break the ice – quite literally – and that even more stupid cologne of yours. He wasn't able to focus properly for the rest of the day, and some voice at the back of his mind told him that the feeling would get worse when he got home.
One hour after diligent obsession, he made up an entire list with perfumes that presented in the description, the same aroma he felt emanating out of your skin. But it was nothing but innocent curiosity, it shouldn't cross any silly behavior out of him beyond that, right?
Two days after, before getting to the hospital, he saw himself at a perfumary. The excuse was that he needed to buy a cologne to himself, but ops! Why is Zayne standing on the feminine section, asking for the employee about some really specific perfumes? "Is that for your girlfriend?" His ears blushed, looking around while trying to find your scent, between every sample brought by the seller. "Just an old friend." He answers when he finally finds the one that matches exactly with the aroma that had him crazy two days prior.
He ended up buying it together with a masculine one that matches yours perfectly. At least, it was what the seller said so.
When he gets home that same day, he finds himself staring at the perfume bottle, unsure of what to do with that. He sprayed a little in his wrists, closing his eyes automatically as he inhaled the aroma. A long and heavy sigh left his throat, his muscles tensing up as he finds himself in such a pathetic situation as this one. What was in his mind now? He was acting like an obsessed perv!
Even though the perfume was objectively the same, something was missing. Even better putting: someone's missing. The scent of the perfume was good, he isn't denying that. But it wasn't divine as it felt on you.
Maybe your skin components bring out the scent differently from how it does on his wrist. Or even can be the fact that what droves him crazy two days prior was more to do with the concentration of your natural body sweat mixed with a small concentration of cologne.
Oh, poor doctor Zayne, even though he felt that sharp feeling of frustration on his guts, that didn't stop him from spraying your perfume on his bedsheets, letting him be enveloped by the closest he could get from your scent now.
He felt so relaxed that it didn't take long for him to fall asleep. So serene, damped in dreams about being closer to your, smelling that tempting aroma straight from the font.
When he woke up in the middle of the night, he couldn't feel more pathetic as he noticed how hard he was. That happened before, of course, when he was a teenager/young adult dealing with hormones. It was something mechanic that could be solved by taking a cold shower. But this time is substantially different. The images of the dream he had with you still cristal clear on his mind, and it would be such a waste not take advantage of them to solve his throbbing problem.
His closes his eyes again, guiding his hands inside his sweatpants, letting out a suffered sigh as he touched the sensitive skin of his hard cock.
It started just on the tip, but the movements migrated to fast, desperate ones in no time.
His leg muscles spreading them apart from each other and making his toes curl on top of his back arching was a clear indicator that he had never done that. Not outise the mechanical approach, where Zayne just was solving a biological reaction caused by muscle relaxation. No, that time he has you in his mind. To drunk on his own thoughts, gritting his teeth as the needy moans and raspy grunts insisted to scape, proving to himself how piteous the whole thing was.
He called your name until the entire time like it was some sort of pray. Begging you to bring your sweat, to finally make his bedsheets smell perfectly, just as you did with his on his hospital room that day. To make it divine, something only you can do.
Divine like in his dream, where you both fucked in his office, where he was reduced to his knees to adore you, like the servant he always knew he is. Where you praised and degraded him like he secretly desired you to.
"Oh...p-please! Have mercy on m-me~" Was the last coo he vocalized before relapsing all his dirty lust in ropes of thick warm cum all over himself.
His frenzy passed by, and after he cleaned himself and changed the bedsheets, he got back to sleep, ashamed by his own actions, hoping you somehow could be merciful enough to forgive his sin, after all, you're his goddess and he was just being your loyal devoted, right?
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munson-blurbs · 6 months
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Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)
♫ Summary: Running an errand together brings out even more sides of Eddie Munson, including one that you wish you'd never seen (5.2k words)
♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, parental conflict, poverty, jealousy, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)
♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult
chapter six: the eye of the tiger
Guilt fit like the shoes your mom forced you to wear as a kid, the dressy ones reserved for special occasions. It pinched at you, dug into you, a constant reminder of its unwelcome presence.
And so you did everything you could to alleviate the discomfort. On Wednesday, Dad mosied into the lobby for his shift to find the floor meticulously swept; there was not a speck of dust in sight. If he had any suspicions, he didn’t bother to show them. He was probably just grateful for the help regardless of its cause.
Mom, as usual, was more skeptical of your intentions, raising a disbelieving brow when you presented her with the bills you’d reorganized by their due dates. You’d offered up the excuse of being bored with nothing better to do. Did she buy it? Unlikely. But she also didn’t pose further questions, choreographing another step in your dance.
And when Dad hung up the phone Friday afternoon, thumb and forefinger massaging the bridge of his nose, you jumped at the chance to fix the situation.
“Everything okay?”
He looked up with a start, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to realize you’d been standing in the doorway. 
“That was Uncle Mo,” he said with an elongated sigh. “The delivery truck won’t start; something’s busted, I guess, so we won’t get our wallpaper until it’s out of the shop.”
“I can go after class,” you volunteered. The shop was a twenty minute bus ride from school, no transfers required. Lugging it on the subway back home might prove more challenging, but you could manage it. 
He dashed your dreams with a swift shake of his head. “They close early for the Sabbath.” Which meant they’d be closed all day tomorrow, too. 
Dad glanced around at the walls, lip scraping over his bottom lip. Their barrenness unsettled him; his pride and joy left empty and exposed.  
Imagine how he’ll feel once this place is boarded up for good. Bet he won’t care about some ugly walls then. 
“I’ll go on Sunday.” The promise practically made itself before you could stop it. Your final paper was due on Tuesday, and you had planned to spend your weekend finishing it, but that would need to take a backseat until the wallpaper crisis was resolved.
You could be part of that solution. For now, at least.
Sunlight teased summer’s beginning and warmed your skin. The walk to the subway station required you to cross paths with the mailbox you’d fought with—and humbly lost to—a few days prior. Dejection shot through your chest as you paused in front of it, focusing on a spot of rusted metal where the paint had flaked off. Short of intercepting the United States Postal Service, there was nothing you could do. Besides, your acceptance was probably already locked inside NYU’s admissions office, sitting among a pile of identical envelopes. Most of them, you suspected, were mailed with exuberance and not with the trepidation you carried. 
The station’s stuffiness engulfed you as you descended the stairs, fingertips brushing the railing to ensure your balance. Your return trip would be short of torture, sweat prickling beneath your arms at the mere thought of dragging wallpaper through the thick humidity. You might have to splurge for a cab to avoid melting completely.
Frantic, impassioned guitar strumming grabbed your attention just before you approached the turnstile, echoing off of the concrete and infiltrating all of your senses. Your breath caught in your throat when you saw that Eddie was the source of the noise. He leaned against the wall as he played an electric guitar—the same one he had clutched so dearly when sleeping at the bus stop. There was no microphone, no amplifier; just him and his instrument. The case was open in front of him, now holding a few scattered dollar bills and some loose change. 
He didn���t notice you, not at first, so you took that opportunity to silently watch him. His head nodded along with the beat, his voice a low timbre as he sang. 
Trust I seek and I find in you 
Every day for us something new 
Open mind for a different view 
And nothing else matters
The chords were nearly drowned out by his vocals, and the softer strumming should have clashed with the harsh lyrics, but he made it work. 
It was somehow even sadder than when Metallica played it, though not from a lack of power. Eddie’s version intertwined anger with desperation, a somber reprise of the gritty original. 
Deft fingers pressed into the frets, the pick pinched between the other hand’s thumb and forefinger. He took a step forward to launch himself into the chorus with a combination of focus and ease. This is what he was meant to do, what he was born to do. Whether he was in front of a captivated audience of thousands or a smattering of indifferent commuters, he was a rockstar. 
Never cared for what they say
Never cared for games they play
Never cared for what they do
Never cared for what they know
And I know, yeah, yeah
Heat blossomed in your belly at his gravelly voice, the way he pulled the notes from the depths of his diaphragm and belted them out. The E train came and went as it screeched along the tracks, but you remained as though the soles of your feet were glued to the ground. 
So close, no matter how far
Couldn't be much more from the heart 
Forever trusting who we are 
No, nothing else matters
For a brief moment after finishing the song, Eddie’s chest puffed out with pride. It quickly faltered in the absence of applause, but before he could play another song, his gaze landed on you. He grinned and shook a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. Part of you wanted to fix it for him, to tuck it behind his ear or sweep it all back into a ponytail, but you refrained. Instead, you dug into your purse and tossed a dollar into the case. 
“Was that the one I gave you for the cab?” Eddie asked, fingers absently brushing over the strings in a series of random chords. 
“Nah, this was from the other asshole guest who made me late for class.”
Your jibe caught him off-guard and he actually laughed with such force that he had to stop playing. “And here I thought I was the only one.” He ran a hand through his hair, wincing as it snagged on a knot. “Are you going to the library or something?”
You lacked the energy to explain that the library was in the opposite direction, opting instead to cut to the chase. “Picking up the wallpaper.”
Eddie’s brow furrowed and he cocked his head. “I thought it was being delivered.” As you relayed the whole broken-truck saga, he started sliding the guitar strap up off of his back and crouched down, stuffing the money from the case into his pockets. “Cool. I’ll go with.”
“Oh, I wasn’t–” You paused mid-sentence to consider your words. “I mean, you don’t have to. I can do it on my own.”
“S’fine.” Eddie laid the guitar down with the fragility that one would handle a newborn baby and snapped the case shut. “Didn’t realize this station is basically dead on Sundays. I normally just play here during the week, but I’ve been out of commission.” He held up his bandaged finger and pouted impishly.
The familiar playfulness settled back into the conversation, breaking up any lingering awkwardness, and you snatched up the opportunity to tease him. “Ah, right. Your man stuff.”
“Very manly. Burly, some might say.” He extended one hand in front of him, palm up, to gesture towards the turnstiles. “Shall we?”
You led and he followed behind so closely that his chest smacked into your back when you stopped in your tracks. The uneven weight distribution, courtesy of the guitar case lolling at his side, thrusted him forward, the metal buckle on his belt digging into your skin through your shirt. 
It set off a domino effect, one that had you falling face-first to the ground. Before you could even brace for impact, you felt Eddie’s fingers digging into your hip and tugging you upright. The way he caught you was almost reflexive, his grasp controlled enough to avoid bruising your skin, but strong enough that you realized he could if he wanted to. 
“What happened?” His tone was mixed with both concern and amusement; a crackle of laughter broke up his question. 
An embarrassing adrenaline surge shot through you, bringing with it a chill that immediately preceded a heatwave of perspiration. “The, um…” You lamely pointed at the card swipe machines that had replaced the token receptacles. “I forgot that we need those MetroCard things.” 
Eddie let go of your hip and you felt his absence almost immediately. “No, we don’t.” He left no time for questioning, hoisting the case to the other side and pushing himself up and over the bar, landing on his feet with cat-like dexterity. 
You stared at him in disbelief. Sure, you’d jumped the turnstile a time or two, but that was back in high school, under the influence of friends you hadn’t talked to since. 
“What’re you waiting for?” He called out. A Cheshire-cat grin graced his lips. 
What were you waiting for? It’s not like the transit police were scouring the station. The poor schmuck stuck at the now-defunct token booth was exasperatedly trying to explain the new system to an older gentleman; he probably wouldn’t have noticed a wildebeest stampede. And you certainly weren’t eager to contribute to the politicians who lined their pockets with taxpayer money. 
Fuck it. 
In one swift motion—much more graceful than your earlier stumble—you mimicked his actions. One foot, then the other, your biceps supporting your body weight. 
“You little rebel.” Eddie tutted, his smirk showing off his teeth. You never noticed the way one canine is slightly sharper than the other, and it digs into his lower lip. “This is how it starts, y’know. One day, you’re skipping out on train fare; the next, you’re committing armed robbery.”
If he kept rubbing your nerves raw, you might be more tempted to commit homicide. 
Another E train arrived not long after. You were an expert at scouting empty seats, and you made a beeline for the first one you found. There was another one across the way, just vacated by a woman pushing a stroller, and you assumed Eddie would take it. 
Instead, he shoved his guitar case towards you, parting your legs between the knees, and grabbed onto one of the overhead handles. 
“Can you hold this?” Eddie asked belatedly. He rocked forward onto his toes as the train moved to keep his balance. A guitar pick necklace swung out from beneath the vee of his shirt and swayed above you. 
You drank in the way he towered over you, so close that he was all you could see. The mingled scents of the motel’s soap and a musky deodorant wafted off of him and enveloped your senses. For a second, there was only him, and whatever the outside world had to offer was just shy of meaningless. 
“There’s a seat down there.” You peered around him and gestured to the one you’d spotted earlier, careful not to point at anyone. 
Eddie looked but declined with a shrug. “Nah, I’m good. I like standing.”
“See, that’s the kind of thing that separates the natives from the transplants.” You smiled up at him. “You didn’t even want to sit down after a gig? Or a long rehearsal?”
“I didn’t really ever take the subway,” he admitted. “Maybe, like, once or twice.”
You huffed out an incredulous laugh. “How did you get around?” 
“Taxis, car service.” He ticked off the items on his free hand. “One time we rented a helicopter, but then the label threatened to revoke the company card.” He chuckled forlornly, like the memory was heavier than an impromptu helicopter ride. 
“Sounds like you were living the life.”
Eddie shook off his wistfulness with a cheeky grin. “Hell yeah. Expensive restaurants, swanky hotels…did I ever tell you about the time we trashed our room?”
“You did not.” You’re not sure you want to know, considering he’s currently staying in one of yours. 
He laughed. “Get this: we come back to the hotel after a gig. We’re all fuckin’ exhausted. As soon as we walk into the lobby, the night manager is on us like a hawk. I mean, the guy gave a stink eye like you wouldn’t believe.” He tried mimicking him, but he was too upbeat to embody the manager’s full ire. “Anyway, we’re not in the room for five minutes when there’s a knock on the door. Of course it’s that schmuck, warning us about the noise policy.”
You looked at him incredulously. “That’s why you destroyed a hotel room?” 
“Mhm.” Eddie proudly nodded, not missing the way concern furrowed your brow. “Don’t worry, Heiress. I’d never trash your place.”
“I’d have to get Phyllis after you.” Laughter bubbled out of you at his visible cringe, probably thinking of being on the other end of her baseball bat. “Okay, so what’s the dumbest thing you guys bought with the company card?”
People pushed through the aisle as the train pulled up to the stop, elbows nudging Eddie until he was practically on top of you. Every hair on your body stood up at the sudden change in proximity. “Probably one of those stuffed tiger things for our apartment,” he admitted.
“You and your band bought a taxidermied tiger?” You scoffed. 
His face flushed, and he scratched at his jaw like he’d been caught red-handed. “N-No, not the whole band. Just me and the drummer. We, um, she was my girlfriend, I guess.”
Puzzle pieces started falling into place and interlocking curves. His ex-girlfriend was also in the band, which was probably why they broke up once Eddie quit. “How long were you two together?” You instantly regret not asking about the tiger instead, for his sake and yours. 
“Hard to say; we were pretty on-and-off.” Eddie tried to play it off casually but terse laughter gave him away. The subway lurched and Eddie swayed forward again, his knee grazing yours. “But it was about a year from start to finish.”
You let the information sink in. He had a girlfriend in Death’s Echo, but he seemed to be unattached at the moment. Made sense, considering he was living in your motel rather than with a partner.
“That’s what no one tells you about money: it runs out.” Eddie continued. “It’s like, common sense or whatever. But when you have no money and then you get a shit-ton of it, it’s hard to imagine ever going back.” 
His eyes found yours like he had been searching for them, and you held his gaze until a monotone voice crackled over the speaker, announcing that the train was approaching the Forest Hills-71st Avenue station. 
“We have to transfer here.”
Eddie wrinkled his nose, clearly not thrilled by this extra step, but he followed your lead without any audible protest.
“Y’know,” he said as the doors opened, the two of you joining the swarm of people pushing their way out, “my neighborhood back home was also called Forest Hills.”
“Seems fancy,” you quipped. 
He laughed, head thrown back. “Oh, yeah. It’s the most glamorous trailer park in all of Indiana.”
The faux pas curdled in your stomach. What were you thinking? He had just confessed that he was broke before Death’s Echo. 
“Sorry, that was stupid.”
He shrugged off your comment, seemingly unbothered. “How many stops is this next one?”
“Just two.”
He hummed his acknowledgment, and with the R train less crowded than the E, you found seats adjacent to one another.
You did your best to ignore the way his right leg brushed your left, the worn denim against your bare skin as the train jostled him. He murmured a barely-audible “sorry.”
There was no reason for him to apologize, and you almost told him this, but you substituted a tight smile for words. Truthfully, you were glad he confirmed that the touch was accidental. You’d nearly nudged him back, a secret handshake of sorts, and your body burned with the mere prospect of embarrassment.
The train screeched to a stop in front of a sign that barely read 63rd Drive-Rego Park, most of the letters covered in colorful graffiti tags. 
“This is us,” you said, handing him back his guitar so you could stand up. 
Eddie stepped aside with a small bow, equal parts awkward and endearing. “So, uh, where are we going, exactly?” He stayed close enough so you could hear him over the cacophony of commuters. 
“S’just a few blocks.” You maintained your fast-paced stride so as to not get bowled over. 
He kept up with you surprisingly well for someone unused to navigating the city’s public transit. The fresh air welcomed you as you ascended the stairs, leaving behind the station’s mugginess. Conversations and traffic replaced metallic clunking while you weaved in and out of a sea of pedestrians, checking every so often to ensure you hadn’t left Eddie behind. 
Bold white letters on a maroon awning proudly proclaimed Eisen’s Paint and Supply, and the faint sound of bell chimed when you opened the door. A middle-aged man stood behind the counter, eyes lighting up when you walked in. 
“Uncle Mo!” You exclaimed, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. Uncle Mo wasn’t your father’s brother, but their bond went beyond blood relation. He was part of nearly all of Dad’s stories since they’d met in high school: the good, the bad, and the ugly. 
There was more gray in his hair and in his beard than the last time you’d seen him, the lines from his lips to his jaw more pronounced, but he still wore the same cologne that you’d remembered. The familiar scent was like home, a reminder of all of the Thanksgivings your families had spent together before the motel engulfed your life. 
He beamed, his hands bracing your upper arms as he got a better look at you. “Look at you; so grown up!” His eyes misted over for a second before he blinked the moisture away. “How long has it been?”
“Too long.” You turned back to Eddie, waving him over and introducing him. Uncle Mo politely extended a hand that Eddie shook quickly before shoving his fingers back in his pocket. 
“Before I get your paper,” Uncle Mo said to you with a mischievous smile, “I have a bit of a surprise.” The stockroom door swung open on cue and a young man stepped out from behind it. 
Your hand flew to your mouth in shock, every bone in your body vibrating. “Ben?” The name was muffled but still audible, and Ben opened his arms just in time for you to tackle him in an embrace.
His gangly teenage limbs had been replaced with hard muscle, his chest straining through his t-shirt. There was no trace of the wispy excuse for a mustache he’d once proudly sported; his face was freshly shaven, only the slightest evidence of his stubble scratched against your cheek when he pulled you to him. 
“I couldn’t believe it when my dad told me you were stopping by,” Ben said, finally letting go after a few moments. He looked at Eddie as if noticing him for the first time. “Ben. Nice to meet you.”
Eddie said nothing in response, his jaw set and his arms crossed over his chest. Whatever friendliness he’d shown Uncle Mo was clearly not being granted to his son. 
“Ben, this is Eddie,” you hurried to explain before the tension became unbearably dense. “He works for the motel, doing different repairs and odd jobs. Whatever we need, really.”
Your old friend nodded and brought his attention back to you. “Do you guys need help bringing the wallpaper back? I don’t have anything to–”
“We’ve got it.” Eddie cut him off curtly, clipping the conversation’s wings. His eyes narrowed in judgmental assessment and their milk chocolate hue turned dark.
Ben had evidently stepped on his toes; you thought back to the wasp’s nest and his adamance to clobber it with a baseball bat despite your insistence to wait until you bought the spray. You shot Eddie a look that he either disregarded or didn’t notice, because his clenched jaw never loosened. 
“Right, yeah.” A blush crept into Ben’s cheeks, the other man’s brusqueness catching him off-guard. “But we should catch up soon,” he said to you, “maybe grab a cup of coffee?”
It was an effort to ignore the way Eddie tensed up; even more so to pretend like his reaction hadn’t stirred something inside of you. Everything between you and him, and you and Ben, was strictly platonic. Whatever melodrama he’d conjured up was his problem, not yours. 
Your relationship with Eddie teetered between acquaintances and friends; he was in no position to get bent out of shape over you going for coffee with Ben or any other man.
You pushed the intrusive thought away long enough to answer Ben’s question. “Yeah, of course! You’re home for the whole summer?”
“Actually…” Ben’s grin widened, harboring a secret he was eager to spill. “I’m back for good. You’re looking at Dr. Benjamin Eisen, D.D.S.”
“That’s amazing!”
He nodded happily, enthusiasm unrestrained. “Thanks. I’m hoping to open up a practice nearby, so I’ll be sticking around for a while.”
That was the best news you’d heard in a while. The pair of you were once inseparable, always devising plans to convince your parents to extend their visits. When you were six, you’d almost started a fire trying to put on a pot of coffee, hoping that it would coax the Eisens into staying longer. 
Too bad you’d forgotten to add the water. 
Uncle Mo returned from the stock room with rolls of wallpaper, and his son shuffled towards him to take one from his grasp. 
“Are you sure I can’t help out?” Ben tried again. He only looked at you when he spoke. 
You almost took him up on his offer, the reply sitting on the tip of your tongue, but Eddie answered for you. 
“We’re good,” he said flatly, taking the rolls from the other men. “I used to lug around amps all the time. This is nothing.”
He’d uttered the same phrase before taking a bat to a wasp’s nest, and he’d ended up hurt. Still, inviting Ben along would almost certainly guarantee an awkward commute home. At best, you’d force stilted small talk; at worst, Eddie might shove Ben onto the tracks. 
“Thanks anyway,” you said politely, trying to temper your irritation. 
Ben gave a tight smile, brows shooting up when remembered something. “Let me give you my new phone number so we can set up a time to meet up.” He plucked a business card from the little plastic container on the desk, flipping it over and scrawling his number on the back. 
“Sounds great.” It truly did, save for Eddie’s glare that made you grateful looks couldn’t actually kill. 
Tucking the card into your purse, you held him in one last hug before bidding them goodbye. 
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Eddie said nothing the entire walk back to the subway station. He strode there despite heaving around a guitar case and cylinders of wallpaper. You suspected he could have flown there if he wasn’t so bogged down. The closest he came to acknowledging your presence was the scoff he let out when you veered off-course to buy a MetroCard. 
You ignored him, still fuming over his behavior towards Ben. With trembling fingers, you dropped your change into the coin slot, acutely aware of his presence as he stood beside you. He was close enough that you could hear his tense sigh, as though his frustration was justified.
Yanking the card out from behind the swinging Plexiglass, you silently stalked over to the turnstile, Eddie begrudgingly hot on your heels. The tiny diagram showed the magnetic strip facing downwards and you did your best to emulate it. After two failed swipes, the machine relented and gave an approving beep.
“Go,” you told Eddie, and when he stared at you blankly, you repeated yourself with considerably less patience. “Go.”
“Okay, okay.” There was no hiding his surprise at your insistence, the sharpness of your tongue. He obviously wasn't accustomed to taking the attitude he dished out. His eyebrows crashed into his hairline as he maneuvered through, wallpaper bumping up against the metal gates. 
There wasn’t enough money left on the card for you, so after a brief glance at your surroundings, you once again lift yourself up and over to the other side. The metal barrier seemed laughably obsolete beneath you.
Eddie blinked twice in rapid succession but composed himself before you reached him again. A peculiar expression graced his face; not so much amusement as much as admiration. If you weren’t so annoyed with him, with his antics back at Eisen’s, you might have cracked a joke about his bad influence rubbing off on you. 
The first leg of the trip—the shortest part, as it were, went smoothly. It was once the E train departed from Forest Hills that it almost immediately halted, the exasperated conductor announcing that extensive track work was causing delays. 
“Fucking great,” you muttered. Experience told you that the remainder of the ride would be stop-and-go, which meant more time spent with Eddie. 
He’d exhaled an exasperated sigh of his own, eyes flickering over the subway car and foot tapping to a beat only he could hear. When he finally spoke, it was the last thing you’d expected him to say. 
“Wanna play I Spy?”
“Um, what?”
“Y’know, I spy with my little eye…” he explained, as though you were confused about the game concept.
It took every last ounce of energy not to burst out laughing at his odd request, though it helped that annoyance still tarnished your mood. “All right. Sure.” 
“Cool.” He glanced around again, rubbing his palms over his thighs in concentration. “Okay, I spy with my little eye, something purple.”
Squinting, you searched for shades of lilac and violet. “That woman’s shirt?” You jutted your chin towards an older woman sitting across the car. 
“Nope.”
“That little girl’s shoes?”
Eddie just shook his head, his dimples gradually deepening with each wrong answer you gave. 
Your next three guesses were also incorrect, and Eddie triumphantly pumped his fist when you admitted defeat. 
“It’s the words on that sign,” he said, pointing to an advertisement for psychic readings. 
It was your turn, and it didn’t take you long to find your target. 
“I spy with my little eye, something…douchey.” Your gaze never left his face, watching the skin crease between his brows as he connected your implication. 
Eddie threw his head back and cackled, drawing the ire of your fellow commuters. You shushed him with a hiss, his apathy only fueling your anger. 
“Fine, I guess I deserved that.” He leaned back in his seat and stretched his arms upwards. For a second, you thought he might drape one over your shoulders, but he brought them right back to his lap. 
“You guess?” You gawped, and he laughed even louder. “You were a total asshole to Ben for no reason.”
Eddie’s voice got feather-soft; you had to lean in to hear him. “Trust me; I had a reason.”
You snorted. “What, him offering to help carry the wallpaper threatened your ‘man stuff?’”
“Something like that.” 
Crossing your arms, you shot him a bemused grimace. Whatever testosterone-laden excuse he concocted would just strengthen your irritation, so you saved yourself the headache and  plundered on. 
“Ben and I have been friends since I was born.” That wasn’t an exaggeration; a photo of one-year-old Ben holding newborn you was tucked away in one of Mom’s albums. Dad had snapped the photo while Uncle Mo sat next to his son, helping cradle your head. You were only a few hours old. “Whatever your problem is, don’t make it mine. Or his,” you add.
Eddie had no response to that, and you preferred it that way. Maybe he was learning not to argue with you, especially when he was so obviously wrong.
Your response halted all conversation for the rest of the extended ride and continued during the short trek back to the motel. The quiet was necessary, but not peaceful, and you refused to buckle when an invisible pull urged you to talk again, to push past the discomfort. If you couldn’t outright tell him that he’d upset you, the least he could do was feel that anger.
“Where do these go?” Eddie asked once the motel’s doors closed behind you. You pointed to the supply closet and he ambled over, wincing as the hinges squeaked in a plea for lubrication. “All right, so, I can get started on this tonight if you want.”
You considered this for a moment before shaking your head. The lobby could survive another night with bare walls, but you needed a break. A break not just from Eddie, but from his naivety to his actions having consequences. 
“Tomorrow’s fine.”
He stilled, his hands halfway in his pockets. “I mean, I was going to stop by anyway; I might as well—”
“I think I just need some quiet tonight.” It was the nicest response you could muster, though the way the words passed through your clenched teeth gave away your annoyance. 
“Oh.” His cheeks puffed out as he exhaled a breath of air, his eyes refusing to meet yours. Confusion tied his tongue, but if he didn’t realize the mistake he’d made, you were in no mood to spell it out. He waited a beat for you to follow up, to iron out the creases with an explanation that had nothing to do with his earlier behavior, but that never happened.
The lack of reassurance pained you, too. You despised leaving matters unfinished; part of you wanted to apologize—for what, you weren’t sure—just to have some resolution. 
Eddie raked his fingers through his curls. “Well, I’m sorry for pissing you off, or whatever.”
Or whatever. Those two words almost had you smacking him upside the head with the wallpaper tubes. Maybe sealing his lips with the glue, too. 
The worst part was the shock on his face when you’d wordlessly stormed out of the supply closet towards your room. Like he had no idea what he’d done wrong or why his non-apology fell flat. 
No, that was a lie. The worst part was actually the pang of disappointment in your chest when there were no footsteps pounding down the hall, no knock on your door, no attempt to talk through the situation. As much as you wanted to be left alone, you’d clutched to an optimistic sliver that he would follow you. It was a pathetic need for proof that he cared about you as more than just his employer. As his friend.
But there was nothing.
That silence hurt most of all. 
--
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yuri-is-online · 7 months
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Hi I love your soulmate au, consider Ace or Deuce as soulmate but not touching each other until much later.
rules for au/prev posts can be found on my masterlist
So I could not quite tell if you meant ace x deuce or aceyuu/deuceyuu but since I am a Yuu focused blog (and you said "or... but not untill later") I am going to focus on x yuu.
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I think the first potential time for them to touch Yuu is after beating the phantom at the end of the dwarf's mine. They're cheering, you're cheering, there's a half second where they scoop up Grim and swing him around and half reach for you but... hesitate. It's like everything stops for a moment before he shakes himself out of it. You're just Yuu, some magicless human he literally met today, why's he feeling so... strange about it???
I could see Ace knowing about soulbonds. His best subject is magic analysis/theory, he's far from unaware of theoretical concepts. But he's also Ace. The bratty kid who hates being seen as vulnerable, who thinks romantic things are uncool, whose way more comfortable being someone's friend than he is their boyfriend. He doesn't want a destined mate, he wants someone he can laugh with and likes being around... and he sort of hates how much you fit that description. So! Only solution he can think of is trying to bait you into making physical contact first, that way if anyone makes a big deal about this all consuming need to be close to each other it's you and not him.
Even though he's the one who proposes sharing a bed. It would have been your fault if you said yes! He's unprepared for what it feels like to get his wish, after Vil curses him to spend the night on the floor with Deuce and Grim he expects you to just abandon him to your room... but you creep back with blankets and pillows for your friends and hesitate when you go to give them to him. Slowly, so gently it makes a mockery of the searing undeniable realization that tears through him as you lay yourself next to him and lay your hand on his shoulder and rest.
While he lies there awake cursing Vil (he refuses to blame himself) for denying him the ability to hold onto you like he should.
~~~~
Deuce is different, I don't think he would be aware of soulbonds nor does he seem to believe in soulmates. I don't think he's thought much of romance at all really, so he doesn't fully understand what he's experiencing or why he's so nervous to touch you. He wants to though. Badly. It's all he can think about sometimes, he's never had a friendship this close or intimate. He really treasures you and this closeness, he doesn't want to break it. While Deuce might not know what is driving this desire, he knows that if he touches you he will understand. And that scares him, what if he breaks you with touch? What if nothing good can come from this connection, what if he is unable to let you go? He really wants you to be able to see your home again... but the thought of losing you leaves him strangely listless. Like you would be taking a part of him with you...
I don't think he ever finds the correct word for it. Maybe sometime way in the future Malleus or a professor will make him aware, but somewhere in a dream he finds it; the understanding of just what this bond means. Physically, he is unconscious in a hospital bed after failing to dodge the shards of Ramshackle Dorm's ceiling, but mentally he is wrapped in the warm, heavy sensation of his love for you. When he wakes and you aren't there he almost tears himself in half looking, and when you come back he holds you so tightly you can feel the tension shaking through his body. The only thing that soothes him is your gentle touch on his back, rubbing soothing circles into his soul as he breathes the bond between you in.
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denaliwrites · 10 months
Text
Don't Look Away
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Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader
Part 1: Don't Blink Part 2: Don't Turn Your Back Part 4: Dreams See Us Through
Summary: You're finally rid of those godforsaken angels.
Requests: Open!
Tag List: @nyxiethesimp, @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce
Warnings: Weeping Angels.
You were so tired.
Between the nightmares and the constant vigilance, there was just... never a moment of rest for you.
Sure, the Doctor whisked you away again, back out into the far reaches of time and the universe, but no matter where you went, you always wondered if the angel was lurking nearby. And when you went back home, you knew that it was.
Out of sight, in this case, did not mean out of mind.
And the Doctor -- oh, the Doctor. He missed the old you. You could see it in his eyes. Every time he looked at you, even if he was smiling, you could see the broken hearts behind those beautiful brown eyes.
You had half a mind to leave him, to spare him the pain of watching you slowly wither away to nothing. And it was happening -- you could feel it, the way your body was getting slower, like it was in the process of shutting down.
Your mind, too, was starting to go. Things that normally would've taken moments to understand took you minutes. The Doctor often found you wandering the TARDIS with little recollection of where you were or how you got there. Your adventures became less frequent, and on the occasions he did take you on one, he was forced to keep a close eye on you so that you didn't trail off and get lost.
And then the adventures stopped.
The Doctor still picked up distress calls and the like -- but he couldn't help people and keep an eye on you at the same time, so you were left in the TARDIS while he went and did his thing.
You didn't mind, though. The rare times you were completely and totally alone gave you the opportunity to cry your heart out.
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
The Doctor... wasn't a fan of problems he couldn't solve.
Did he accept that there were problems he couldn't solve? Of course -- the universe was vast and mysterious, even to him. Planets that by all accounts shouldn't exist existed. He'd met species that by all accounts shouldn't have been able to evolve, but somehow had.
(He still shuddered at the memory of the creature on Midnight.)
But acceptance was not the same as liking. And he did not like problems he couldn't solve.
In fact, he rather hated them.
You were a problem he couldn't solve. Or, at least, adjacently. More accurately, the Weeping Angel that had psychically latched itself onto you was a problem he couldn't solve -- but it was a problem for you, and he couldn't solve that either.
It killed him.
It killed him, it killed him, it killed him.
He just wanted to see you smile again. Hear your laugh. Feel you radiate joy and wonder and curiosity.
One thing the Doctor also hated?
Running out of time.
How did a Time Lord in possession of a time machine ever run out of time? How could he have let himself run out of time?
You were on the verge of needing actual medical attention -- intervention, really. He could see you deteriorating, noted how the process was getting faster and faster every day.
He was going to take you to New Earth, to those cat nun nurses. If anyone could help you, it was them -- loathe as he was to admit it.
But he thought, one more adventure. One more little trip, before he took you to be healed, and one trip to a doctor that could heal you better than he could before he took you home for the last time.
One more trip, one more doctor's office, before he gave himself to the Weeping Angel.
It was the only solution.
Well, the only solution he could see, at least.
So, he landed the TARDIS someplace low stakes. Calm, peaceful. Normal, far as the universe went. A little market planet by the name of --
"Vipitera!" the Doctor exclaimed as he swept out of the TARDIS with a big grin on his face. You shuffled close behind, a hand clutching at his coat to keep from losing him.
"Vipitera," he repeated as he swung around to face you suddenly, his bright and excited eyes meeting yours -- dull and exhausted. His grin didn't waver.
"Vipitera," he said again, slower, really drawing out the syllables. "Vipitera, Vipitera, Vipiteraaaaa." Each time he repeated the name, it sounded goofier and goofier.
Finally, miraculously, he managed to coax out a smile from you. His grin broadened. "There you are," he said with such amazement and adoration. He pulled you towards him and planted a loving kiss to your forehead. "There you are."
He tucked you tightly against his side and led you away from the TARDIS. He'd landed in some kind of supply closet, so it took some walking and weaving through halls, but eventually the two of you stepped out into the market proper.
He watched as your eyes sparked to life and bounced from stall to stall. He could almost feel the excitement flooding your brain, igniting parts of you that had been dulled and left to flicker out for far too long.
He supposed that was his fault.
"Welcome to the market planet Vipitera," he said with a grin and a broad motion to their surroundings. It effectively chased the thoughts away, as he got to see you smile again.
"Let me just -- hold on --" He pulled away from you to dig in his pockets, pulling something out a minute later. It looked like some kind of computer chip. "There's loads of credits on that thing," he said as he passed it to you with one hand and scratched the back of his head with the other. "Off you pop. Go wild."
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
You didn't like the idea of going off on your own, but you figured -- a planet as public as this, with constant activity and very few places a Weeping Angel could hide -- either someone would've noticed a moving statue disappearing people, or there'd be too many eyes and not a lot of moving, generally.
And the Doctor thought it was safe, and he usually wasn't wrong.
The only problem now was that you had no idea where to start. Holding your credit... chip? close, you carefully started making your way through the nearest stalls, browsing what they had to offer.
Some had food that smelled incredible but looked maybe unfit for human consumption. Some had little knick-knacks and trinkets. A handful had jewelry. One had books.
You stopped to browse the book stall and ended up buying the biography of the first human president of Vipitera.
Why? Well, why not?
You also bought an Agatha Christie novel with a special edition, Vipitera exclusive cover, because you thought the Doctor would get a kick out of it.
And then you were off, looking around and buying things until your arms were full -- and, in your defense, the Doctor had told you to go crazy.
It eventually got to the point where you had to make a trip to the TARDIS to drop your haul off in your room.
As you headed back to the market, you thought you felt someone watching you -- you thought the angel had somehow found you, but the feeling passed just as quickly as it had come. Knowing the angel wouldn't have let you off so easy, you figured it was something else and went back out among the stalls.
The Doctor found you eventually, after you'd bought another armful of things, and led you to a human food stall after dropping all your new things off at the TARDIS (again).
Your eyes lit up and your mouth watered at all the options.
"Pick for me?" you asked the Doctor, looking at him with big, round eyes. "I don't even know where to start."
"Well," he started, motioning at something that looked somewhat like spaghetti, except the noodles (were they noodles, even?) were teal, and the sauce was a deep, foresty green. "Can never go wrong with Yuphorian nishles and pine sauce."
"... Nishles?"
"Fish noodles. Yuphorian fish meat is that color because of the algae they eat."
You blinked down at the curiously colored meal. "It's... good, though...?" you asked, finding it hard to get over the fact it looked like candy.
"Oh, yes. It's delicious."
"I'll try it then."
While he ordered you the nishles and a couple other things, you went to find a place to sit and decided on a nice shaded table in one of the far corners of the dining area.
A cool breeze blew past as you settled into one of the chairs. Barely a moment later, something was draped over your shoulders and you looked back to see the Doctor laying his coat over you.
"What about the food?" you asked, drawing the coat tighter around yourself.
"They're gonna bring it," he replied as he sat next to you.
"Thank you."
"I couldn't leave you shivering--"
"No, not for that -- I mean, yes, thank you for lending me your coat. But... no. Thank you for today."
The look he gave you was so sad. It broke your heart and confused you in equal measure.
"What's wrong, Doctor?"
The smile he shot your way was forced, and the glimmer in his eyes wasn't from joy but from unshed tears. "Oh, nothing," he replied. "Nothing at all."
He obviously wasn't convincing, but you knew pressing the matter wouldn't get you anywhere. Instead, you decided to rest your head while the two of you waited for your food.
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
The Doctor had forgotten what you looked like when you were sleeping -- he'd forgotten what peace looked like on your face.
You were only taking a light nap while you waited for alien pasta made out of fish oil, but to him, you were the pinnacle of beauty in that moment. Of everything he'd seen in all his nine hundred odd years traveling through time and space, this moment with you was the most remarkable. The most stunning. The most breathtaking.
How he hated that he had to wake you up.
He waited, at least, putting it off until the waitress was gone and then for a little bit longer before he shook you awake.
You grunted, every cell in your body desperate to stay under to the point of protest, but he kept at it until you stirred.
"Time to eat," he told you as your eyes fluttered open. "Come and get it while it's hot."
He saw the heaviness of sleep in your eyes as you looked up at him and oh, how he adored it. How he'd missed it.
"Mmm," you replied, making him chuckle.
"I promise I'll let you rest when you're done eating," he said, pushing the plate of nishles towards you. "C'mon, before it gets cold!"
He could see how begrudging you were to get up, but you did so anyway, and grumpily stabbed at your pasta for effect.
"Oh, come now, what did the poor nishles do to deserve this?" he asked teasingly.
He saw a flicker of a smile on your lips.
Emboldened, he continued. "All that work being processed and cooked to be eaten, just for you to stab it."
That little secret smile grew, just a bit.
"Those poor nishles."
He watched as you broke at the word nishles, dissolving into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. They were probably spurred on by delirium, but it had been so long since he'd heard you laugh that he didn't care.
"Oi, why are you laughing?" he whined playfully. "Those fish didn't give their lives just for you to laugh at them!"
Your giggles grew into a full belly laugh, and the Doctor thought that if he were to die in that moment, he'd die happy, because he would've gotten to hear you laugh -- really laugh -- one last time.
Your fit of laughter eventually died down, helped along by you taking a few deep breaths and putting in a concentrated effort to stop.
"So..." you said, biting back another bout of giggles. "Ni--nishles..."
"Nishles," the Doctor agreed, watching you.
He continued to watch as you took the first bite, watched as your face shifted across a vast array of expressions, and watched as it eventually settled on bewilderment.
"What... is that...?" you asked, blinking rapidly at the dish in front of you.
"That'd be the pine sauce, made from the needles of the Yuphorian fir."
"It... but it doesn't taste like pine," you whimpered in confusion, eyeing it.
"Well of course," the Doctor said with a grin. "It's not Earth pine sauce, it's Yuphorian pine sauce. Earth pine sauce would be disgusting -- well, I suppose juniper sauce might not be. Or gin sauce... oh, there's an idea..."
He didn't realize you were staring past him until he paused and took in your suddenly stricken expression.
"What is it?" he asked softly, watching you carefully.
"I-I thought I... I thought I saw..."
Oh, no.
He turned to look behind him, but whatever you'd seen was gone.
If you'd even seen anything.
Not that he didn't believe your experience, but he was in a difficult position; you were deliriously tired and paranoid (rightfully, of course). Both things could lead to hallucinations.
He knew this, and yet he knew without a doubt that he had to take you seriously, for your sake.
"C'mon," he said quietly, moving to a stand. "We can finish lunch in the TARDIS." You nodded your assent and grabbed the food, then stood and tucked yourself into his side.
He led you through the market, through the building you'd materialized in, and to the TARDIS.
He slotted the key into the door, turned to unlock it, then turned back to look at you --
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
You didn't need to see the Doctor's stricken expression to know the Weeping Angel was behind you. You could feel its presence like a breath against your neck.
It felt like every hair on your body was standing to attention. It felt like your whole body stopped. You couldn't hear your heartbeat, but you could swear you heard the Doctor's hearts hammering away.
With a shuddering breath, you whimpered his name. You saw his eyes twitch -- he wanted so badly to look at you, but couldn't take his eyes off the angel.
"Get into the TARDIS," he commanded, "don't worry about me, I've got an eye --"
"Doctor," you interrupted, voice small but surprisingly steady.
You could see tears gathering in his eyes. He was desperate to look at you.
"I can't move."
Understanding dawned on his face, and you watched as his hearts broke right in front of you.
"I'm sorry, Doctor."
"You?" he asked in a tearful growl. "What have you done to be sorry for?"
"I'm sorry we won't have more time together."
He let out a hollow laugh. "No. I'm sorry. I couldn't save Rose, couldn't save Astrid, couldn't save Donna. And I can't save you."
"It's okay."
"No, it's not. It's not okay! Why you? Why you?"
"Doctor."
You could see him struggling to keep his eyes open, now. He struggled, and soon he'd fail.
"Doctor, let me go."
"I can't lose you, too."
"We don't have a choice."
He struggled. His eyes were twitching more now, desperate for relief, and he still so desperately wanted to be looking at you rather than the angel.
And then finally, the inevitable.
He blinked.
And your world went black.
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