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#if anyone knows anyone who would be up to it! let me know and i'll try to reach out.
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They Wouldn't Understand - LN
Dark fic - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS
Summary: Lando starts dating y/n, and despite his red flags, y/n loves him. Lando's not going to let her listen to anyone who tries to get in the way. What do they know?
Theme/warnings: toxic relationship (with Lando), manipulation, purposeful isolation, jealousy, gaslighting, possessiveness, controlling behaviours, smut ;)
naive/innocent/sweetheart!reader
No part 2 requests please - Also bc of this not being my usual content I haven't put the taglist on just incase someone who usually reads my fics would rather not read darker content
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Lando wasn't always like this. At least not in his head. He'd watched others speak to y/n and tell her to be careful, to not jump into the relationship head first.
He's only relieved she didn't listen.
By the end of the first 2 weeks he'd got her away from her meddling friends and to Monaco. They're thankfully entirely out the picture after an argument which she spend defending him, then in tears she cuddled up to him while saying she didn't understand and that they just didn't know him like she does.
It's not as if Lando doesn't love her, in fact he loves her so much he doesn't want anyone else involved. Y/n is the centre of his world and he doesn't want anyone to threaten that.
"Baby, I know it's hot. But you can't walk around the paddock like that." Lando states with a frown as he sees her choice of shorts which very nearly show the apex of her thigh and a bralette.
"Really?" Y/n mumbles looking down then sighing.
"You know I just want to protect you...not everyone is going to look at you and think nice thoughts like me...I'd love to see you walk out like that, if I knew other people wouldn't judge you for it." He also hates the thought of any other many seeing more of her body if he can help it.
"I know. I'll change." Y/n smiles lightly genuinely believing that Lando is just protecting her.
Y/n changes into a light summer maxi dress, it might show some of her chest, but Lando will compromise that and maybe he can get her in a jacket later.
"I love this dress. You look beautiful." Lando smiles gently kissing her before he checks the time and sighs. "Time to get going."
-
Lando and y/n walk through the paddock, Lando keeping a tight hold on y/n and walking with her almost pressed against him. His body very much blocking largely blocking the view of y/n from the front as they walk.
He always wants her close and he always wants to hide her as much from cameras, fans, other team personnel and especially the media.
There's been a few unappreciated comments saying y/n is out of Lando's league or she's not his type by the likes of Alex and George. Not meaning any harm in saying it, but Lando would've liked to throttle them both for the comments. Then there's fans online, and actually they do talk about y/n in such a vulgar way that Lando wants to genuinely protect her from them.
"Lando." Zak greets then leaning around to smile at y/n who is smiling slightly peaking out from behind her boyfriend. "Hi, y/n."
"Hi, Zak." Y/n smiles stepping out a little while Lando clears her throat and kicks into a conversation about the weekend.
Lando won't fault y/n for talking very briefly with Zak. He's not even very fond of her talking to Oscar or Jon unless she's feeling entirely rude for ignoring them. But really he tries to minimise her interactions with anyone else in the entire paddock. Most of the paddock just assume she's quiet.
"Right, we're just getting to my room." Lando states at the end of the conversation when Zak asks what they're doing first. He shifts his hands from holding hers to holding her waist as he pulls her in front of him.
As soon as they get to his drivers room Lando sighs pulling her back into himself and kissing her neck.
"Alright, baby. Where do you want to place yourself for the day?" Lando asks while he smirks a little at her.
"I don't know. Where do you want me?"
"You can just stay in here if you'd like. Out the way so you're not getting trampled by crowds or bothered by anyone." Lando states watching her try to hide her disappointment that he is suggesting she just stay in the unit. "I'll come back and get you later when I've got the seat fitting in the garage. Ok?"
"Ok." Y/n nods, smiling when he kisses her.
"You ok?"
"Yeah. I'm good." Y/n confirms then swallowing. "Thursdays always good quickly."
Lando nods stroking his thumb over her waist for a moment, his gaze almost burning through her.
"You know I'd bring you out to watch us do all the media, but everyone is rushing around and getting in the way and I don't want you getting hurt. Especially with fans, they might try to hassle you and I don't want that. Not after the last time."
The last time being when some fans decided to tell her exactly what they'd do in order to treat her better than Lando does. In ways that had them thrown out and y/n in tears. It worked perfectly into Lando's hands for her latching onto him for safety, but he was too caught up in his rage and doing everything to have the fans ban for what they said. He only noticed after he'd calmed down that y/n had been desperately holding onto him.
Some fans really don't like Lando, and y/n is just collateral damage of that dislike. Plus she's gorgeous and Lando is more than aware he can't let her slip out his grasp. That's why he is so protective of her the way he is.
-
Lando smiles as he lifts y/n up and puts her into the cockpit of the car and then pushes his helmet down over her head.
She changed into some borrowed joggers and a McLaren t-shirt since she couldn't get into the cockpit wearing her dress and Lando is definitely not mad about seeing her in a number 4 McLaren top and much more covered up.
"How do I look?" Y/n grins through the helmet making Lando smile down at her.
"You look amazing. As always." Lando states only for Will to appear moving to talk to him and catching his attention from y/n momentarily.
Y/n ends up pulling his helmet off and just watching him talk in a pretty intense conversation. It actually goes on a while and a mechanic ends up noticing her looking a little stranded in the cockpit.
"I can help you, love." A mechanic states making the rest of the mechanics grimace since they know not to cross such a line when it comes to y/n.
"Oh, thanks." Y/n smiles but as soon as she begins to shift, Lando has paused his conversation and is looking at the mechanic.
"I got her mate. Thanks." Lando states and wisely the mechanics reads his tone and expression enough to know to back off. Usually Lando is never so seriously or cold towards them but he draws the line with y/n. "Come on baby."
Y/n resists the urge to send a sympathetic but grateful smile to the man and instead just focuses on standing up and being lifted out with the help of Lando before she is placed on the ground.
"You ok?" Lando asks making her smile and nod then kissing him softly.
"Yeah, I'm ok." Y/n nods before Lando flicks his gaze, presumably to the mechanic but she just smiles at him. Her hands sliding around his waist as she hugs him.
Y/n isn't entirely stupid, she knows Lando might be a little more jealous and possessive than other men. But she doesn't really think there's anything wrong with that. Lando is the way he is because he loves her.
"Alright, come on baby." Lando mumbles patting her tummy where his hand had been keeping her pressed back against himself, making sure he had her closely kept pressed to him.
Lando guides her through the garage then switching her to her usual spot somewhat to the side but behind him as he links their hands.
"Are you hungry?" Lando asks making her nod a little. "Go up to my room. I grab us something."
Y/n moves up to his room mumbling hi's and how are you's to staff as she passes, never wanting to come across as rude.
When Lando appears he places down a poke bowl which is one of his go-to meals and she's always more than happy to just stick to his diet.
"I like seeing you in my clothes. Especially in my number." Lando comments suddenly once they finish eating making her smile and look up at him. "I would just always have you in my clothes if I could."
"I like wearing your clothes...even if they're a little baggy on me."
"You look beautiful in baggy clothes." Lando states with a small smirk then holding out his hand for her to take which she doesn't hesitate to take and allow him to guide her over. "But I do like what's underneath the most."
"But what if someone walks in?" Y/n mumbles then swallowing as he pulls her down.
Lando's been hard since he had her pressed against her after he got her out the car. He's already wait for them to eat, but he wants her now and thankfully y/n is always compliant.
"I'll tell them to go away. What do I tell you?"
"No one else gets to see me like that. I'm all for you." Y/n states then obediently moves her own hands down to pull him out as she stands up kicking off his joggers and her underwear before she climbs back onto him suddenly very eager before she sinks down on him. Maybe a little dry but she shudders at a ripple of pleasure from being filled.
Lando is actually patient, letting her adjust and feeling her grow wetter around him before she hums a little as if trying to contain louder noise as she holds his shoulders.
"That's it baby." Lando soothes as she begins to pull up up with the aid of his hands on her ass.
He ends up controlling the pace, pushing her down on himself till his tip is brushing her cervix and then eventually beginning to knock it hard with every thrust as he thrusts up, somehow getting deeper while she tries to contain any noise. After all these paddock units are not made of bricks. She wouldn't be surprised if people can hear them anyway and are aware of their activities.
"Fuck baby, you always feel so good." Lando grunts feeling her begin to sweet him at those words, the lust in his voice having such an effect that it's not long before she's completely seized on him. Feeling his own orgasm be triggered as he slams her down on himself, filling her with his cum. Her so tightly around him that it fills the space and leaves her feeling the pressure of being so full and she can't contain the moan that passes her lips at the feeling. "Good girl."
Lando holds her there for a few beats before gently setting her down beside him.
"Alright baby. let's get you dressed." Lando states after giving himself a bit of a clean up and tucking himself away.
"But your-"
"Next time someone wants to try and touch you, they can do it while you know my cum is leaking out of you." Lando cuts off making her remain quiet as he helps her back into her underwear and then his joggers. Gravity not quite having worked to make his cum leak back out of her yet but she can feel the movement.
"What if someone sees?" Y/n mumbles earning a small smile as he moves his hand to tip her chin up as he leans over, stopping just short of her lips.
"The joggers are black baby, no one's going to see. That felt good didn't it? And you like being full of my cum." Lando states then kissing with a very hot and heavy kiss that she can't even stop herself from melting into. "I want to see my cum all over you later when we're back at the hotel, so don't even think about about trying to clean it up."
Y/n actually feels herself twitch at the thought of what he might have planned later and how she's going to feel when it happens. If there's one place she'd never ever try to deny Lando excels it's in the bedroom, or in this case in his driver's room.
She ends up spending a couple hours being pulled around feeling the cum leak out of her, soaking her underwear which is hardly anything that protects the joggers from at least coating it from the inside along wish the top of her inner thighs where it's dried out too.
-
When they get back to Monaco, Lando is almost relieved to be able to confine both himself and y/n to his apartment. No interference and no random people trying to get close to y/n.
Though Lando has gone out to have dinner with some sponsors. He certainly was not going to have Y/n dress up nice and be the only woman there playing as eye candy for the men.
"Y/n?" Lando calls out as he returns home. "Baby?"
Y/n appears from the hallway and he feels an instead heat rise from the sight of her eyes bloodshot and puffy.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing." She mumbles moving to hug him with a very small but forced smile. "Missed you."
"Baby, tell me what's wrong?" Lando frowns as she sniffles. "Did you hurt yourself? Did someone say something online?"
"No. No. My mum called and said all my friends have been messaging saying that you're a bad guy and that you're going to hurt me and they're scared for me. So she wants me to go home for a bit."
"What did you say?" Lando questions immediately making her swallow. "You're not going back to England just because some fucking assholes think they know what's going on, y/n. What am I doing that's so wrong?"
"Nothing. I don't think you're doing anything wrong." Y/n rambles shaking her head.
"So you want to leave me for doing nothing wrong? You know they're just trying to get between us and now they've pulled your mum in because they think she has the power to get between us in the way they didn't. You're really just going to give them what they want?" Lando questions then scoffing as he steps back. "If you don't want to be with me just say rather than trying to put it into others."
"N-no. I want to be with you. They're wrong. I just want to prove it to them. I want to tell them." Y/n panics trying to move closer.
"If they don't support us then why do you even care about them. Baby, if your mum cared then she wouldn't upset you and make you cry because you're in a safe and happy relationship."
"You're right. You-you're right." Y/n nods feeling her heart thump in her chest.
"Why would you even want to talk to you mum if she's going to be as bad as them? What kind of mum is that unsupportive?" Lando questions making y/n blink a couple times, tears gathering in her eyes and Lando sighs. "Baby, how many times do I have to tell you? All these people they're just jealous that you're happy and they're trying to ruin this?
"I know. I was just thinking about going home. But I told my mum I'd talk to you and you're right." Y/n states then swallowing thickly while Lando sighs gently at her. "I'm sorry. I think they mean it from a good place."
"You wouldn't be upset if they meant it from a good place." Lando sighs softly as he moves closer to her and gently pulls her closer. "I love you, I'm just sick of people thinking they know anything."
Y/n nods then smiling as she loops her hands around the back of his neck.
"I just need you." Y/n smiles then sighing. "Anyway, now you're back. How was your dinner?"
Lando knows y/n is locked in. She's really just dismissed her own mother in favour of him and she's still looking at him with absolute adoration.
He still doesn't want anyone thinking they have a chance so he's not going to chance how he is with her and really he's not going to stop till he's cut everyone who poses a threat out of her life. Family, friends or not.
Y/n is gonna be all his. At any cost to herself or the other people who love her.
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acey-wacey · 2 days
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Jealous of Their Tsum
Feat. Deuce, Azul, Jade
A/n: In honor of tsumderland 2!!! (though it took me the entire event to write it). Kalim, Rook and Lilia in the future if there is demand
♠️ Deuce Space ♠️
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He gets along with his tsum though it's quite the troublemaker sometimes.
It doesn't have the same honor student drive that he does.
Though sometimes it gets into mischief, it's lack of proper inhibitions also make it bolder when it comes to you.
Deuce has had a crush on you for the longest time and never said a word because he was too scared.
His tsum however is not at all scared and has no problem launching into your arms.
You were initially startled by the little plushie that threw itself at you but once you realized it was Deuce's tsum, you giggled and let it bounce up to your shoulders.
It nuzzled the side of your face and you patted it's head affectionately.
Deuce --who had been running after the tsum to keep it from causing too much mayhem -- stopped short when he saw you cuddling with the little creature that looked so much like him.
"You're just a little sweetheart, aren't you?" You cooed at the tsum, squeezing it in your arms and holding it close to your chest.
Deuce couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at the affection you showed the tsum.
Why didn't you ever hug him like that? What did Deuce-tsum do to deserve your cuddles?
"You are just so cute," you said as you pinched the tsum's little cheeks. The plushy bounced with happiness. "Almost as cute as the real Deuce!"
Deuce's eyes widened when he heard you.
You thought he was... cute? Cuter than the tsum even?
His jealousy was replaced with swelling pride.
He smiled to himself, knowing you weren't aware of his presence.
Maybe his dreams of confessing weren't so hopeless after all.
...
🐙 Azul Ashengrotto 🐙
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His tsum had mostly been helping out at the Mostro Lounge, being cute and attracting customers.
Azul knew how good the adorable little plush was for business but he never expected to see you drawn to the crowds.
"What brings you to the Lounge on this fine day, dearest prefect?" Azul asked you with his signature charming smile.
"Everyone's been talking about the tsum that's working. He's just so cute!" you responded enthusiastically, looking to where Azul-tsum was filling up a customer's water glass.
Azul's perfect smile faltered for just a second, not long enough for you to notice.
"So even you can be tempted by our most adorable new staff member?"
"Seems so," you shrugged with a smile.
"I'll ensure it is sent to your table then," Azul smiled before turning away.
He secretly scowled at the tsum before walking back to his post.
He didn't hear you mutter "I can think of a more adorable staff member" before he left.
A few minutes later, there was a bit of a commotion in the dining area.
"What's going on?" Azul asked Jade when he saw the franticness buzzing around your table.
"It appears the tsum has attacked a patron," Jade said, though his smile was much too sly for that kind of news.
Azul was much too startled to notice the eel's ulterior motives.
He pushed his way through the crowd to find your table.
"I am terribly sorry about any violent behavior by our resident tsum. If anyone has been attacked in any way, I assure you, you will be reimbursed..."
You interrupted Azul before he could finish.
"Nonsense! I wasn't attacked so much as glomped by this little cutie!"
Azul couldn't tell if he was more startled by the attack accusations or the fact that his tsum was nuzzling itself into your chest. And you were cuddling it back?
Azul found himself becoming increasingly worried that his tsum shared the same feelings he had for you.
What if you discovered that he liked you because of his tsum? You would probably hate him and then he'd never see you again and all because of that stupid ball of stuffing!
First it was going to steal his job, then his crush. Sooner or later, Jade and Floyd would completely replace him with the thing!
Azul collected himself enough to take a deep breath and offer you a hand.
"My deepest apologies for this unprofessionalism. May I offer you a VIP seat while I get everything sorted with our clingy little waiter?"
You smiled and took Azul's hand holding the tsum against your shoulder with the other.
"I'm really not bothered but I'll never say no to a better seat."
While Azul walked you to your new booth, he put on a customer service smile just for you.
"Say, Y/N, you seem to enjoy cuddling with the little tsum quite a bit."
"Can't deny that," you chuckled and squeezed the puffball tighter. It wiggles its stubby arms with joy. "I've grown fond of the little fellow."
Azul's eyes narrowed slyly.
"I have a proposition for you, Y/N. You may cuddle my tsum as much as you like, with a few conditions of course."
"Of course," you repeated with a roll of your eyes.
"I don't even ask much of you," Azul continued as he summoned a contract with his magic. "Just sign on the dotted line and the tsum is practically yours."
You narrowed your eyes at the fine print before chuckling.
"For every cuddle Azul-tsum receives, twice as many must be returned to the original Azul," you read aloud with a smirk on your face.
"A tempting offer, is it not, prefect?"
You smiled and set the tsum down on a nearby table much to its dismay.
Before Azul could react, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace.
"Very tempting indeed."
🍄 Jade Leech 🍄
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You were walking peacefully back to Ramshackle from your afternoon classes when you tripped over something soft in the road.
You spit the dirt out of your mouth and looked up to see a mini Jade hopping around on the road.
You sighed and stood up, dusting off your uniform.
"You did that on purpose, didn't you, you little schemer?"
The tsum stopped its gleeful hopping to wink at you.
You laughed and squatted down to be roughly eye level with the plush.
"Well don't think you can indebt me to you. I'm a lot bigger than you after all," you said before realizing the irony. "Huh, that's funny, it's usually the other way around with Jade."
You continued on your way home but noticed the tsum still bouncing after you.
"What? Did Jade send you to collect a payment?"
The tsum shook its head, or at least it would have if it had a head. More like it just shook its whole body.
"Do you need something?"
Another shake.
"Are you gonna follow me all the way home?"
An enthusiastic nod.
"Just like the normal Jade. Can never take no for an answer."
You sighed and held out your hands to the tsum.
"Come on, let's get going. I can't have you tracking dirty stub prints all over my shiny nice desecrated wood floors."
The Jade-tsum hopped eagerly into your hands.
Before too long, it started to rain.
You groaned and looked at the little tsum in your hands.
"Guess we gotta make a run for it, eh, Jade-tsum?"
The tsum bounced in excitement.
You held it close to your chest and made a break down the dirt road to your dorm.
By the time you made it back, the tsum was stuck to you like glue.
"Come on, little Jade, I'm all wet and muddy, I need to take a shower!"
The tsum stayed stuck to your shirt no matter how much you tugged at it.
"Guess this is my life now."
After your fourth lap around the dorm, trying to dry off with a plushie attached to you, you got a phone call from the Jade's cell.
"Y/N," you answered tiredly.
"How fortuitous I was able to reach you, prefect," you heard Jade's easily distinguishable voice from the other line. "Would you have happened to see my little lookalike anywhere? I'm afraid it's gotten away from me and it's much too difficult to search in the rain."
"Yeah, actually. It's kind of attached to me."
"Attached, you say?" Jade's voice perked up with interest. "Whatever do you mean?"
"I mean literally attached. It latched onto me like Velcro and I can't get it off for the life of me which is quite inconvenient."
You heard Jade chuckle.
"That does sound quite characteristic for a version of me," he mused, making you wonder what the implications of that statement were. "I shall be right over to remove it."
About 20 seconds after he hung up, you heard a knock on your door.
"That was quick," you said as you got up to open the door.
Jade was standing in your doorway, soaking wet with a sneaky smile on his lips.
"How did you get here so fast?"
"Oh, I was already on the way."
You laughed as you stepped aside to let Jade in the door. As per his usual polite self, he took off his muddy shoes before following you to the dying room (it's in such poor shape you don't bother calling it a living room).
"Why'd you call ahead if you were already coming?"
"It is polite to give warning of one's arrival, is it not?" Jade cocked his head in fake innocence. "I would never wish to be unexpected."
"Jade Leech, you are always unexpected."
He smiled at you rebuff.
"I shall take that as a compliment," he cleared his throat and turned to you. "Now for the matter of our other unexpected guest."
Jade looked at his tsum double who was still firmly snuggled into your chest.
He bent down to look the tsum in the eye and you didn't quite hear what he said to it but from the way it released it's hold on you and scampered off to the couch, you assumed it was a threat.
"Thanks, Jade," you said exasperatedly though you knew there was going to be a catch later.
"I accept your thanks, prefect, but your payment would be much more appreciated."
You sighed and grabbed your wallet from your pocket.
"If you're going to make me work shifts at the Mostro, I would much rather pay you in cold hard madol."
Jade pushed your hands down and looked at you with a dangerous glimmer in his eyes.
"I'm afraid your little leech has not been removed, prefect, only replaced with a larger one."
You backed up as Jade approached you with a sharp toothy grin. Eventually, he backed you up against the couch and you fell over backwards.
"Poor helpless prefect," Jade tutted, looming over you, his dark silhouette outline by the flickering light of your ancient chandelier. "Who would be able to help you if a slimy eel decided to... latch on?"
Your breath caught in your throat as the wind was knocked out of you by a crushing weight on your body.
You waited for Jade to keep squeezing the life out of you but for some reason it never came.
Instead you felt the nuzzle of a much larger head into your neck.
Once you recovered from the shock, you smiled and began stroking Jade's hair.
He growled under your touch.
"Mine."
...
☕Buy Me A Ko-Fi! ☕
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arcanesea · 3 days
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confession
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PAIRING: choi seungcheol x reader GENRE: idiot in love, friends-to-lovers, angst if you squint WC: 864 WARNING: mentions of alcohol, cursing
"Are you sure you don't want to come?" your roommate peeking from your door, all dressed up and ready for a party. You glance at them before murmuring a low no.
Seungcheol would be there and you're afraid there will be a bloodbath.
You heard them shuffling around the room, ready to leave when they suddenly appeared at your door again.
"Just leave!" you ordered with a laugh. Escorting them to the front door, bidding goodbye. You close the door afterward, sighing. Lately, your relationship with Seungcheol has gone downhill really fast. You're not even dating, not even close. No one even knows both of you used to talk on a daily basis until a week ago.
One thing you know is that he would be there at the party and girls would be dying to talk to him like usual. Except this time he might indulge them. To say that you're jealous would be weird because why would you?
You decided to sleep early, trying to shut the image of Seungcheol and the urge to text him.
It was already past midnight when you were awakened by the sound outside your dorm. You tied your hair, walking towards the front door. Half annoyed, half sleepy.
"Did you forget your key?" you mumble, pulling the door open.
"Thank God!" your roommate shouts. "Cheol said you might already be asleep."
"I was..." you said dryly. Your eyes trained on the guy who held up your half-drunk roommate. No longer sleepy, you're suddenly boiling with rage.
"I'll get going then, I was just escorting them home," Seungcheol said, looking at you. You nod your head, grabbing your roommate by the arm. His hand brushed yours, sending shivers down your spine. It has been weeks since you saw him. Even last week arguments were done through texts with no resolution. You wouldn't care much about who's with him, but it hurts twice more when it's your roommates. Not that you can say anything about that and that's just frustrating.
Your roommate held your arms, tugging on his shirt. You tried to detach them from Seungcheol to no extent because they kept asking him to come in for a moment. You had no choice but to let him in, closing the door behind him afterward. Your roommate, as annoying as they are, immediately walks to the couch and closes their eyes. Mumbling something about a headache.
You curse under your breath before turning to face him.
"I think you can leave now," you told him. "Thank you for driving them back."
"Great, so we're gonna act like nothing happened?" Seungcheol asks.
"Aren't you the one who stopped replying to my text?" you quip back, venom lacing your words. You're watching as his expression changes, jaw clenched.
"I asked you to meet but I guess your reputation matters most to you and you'd rather break this up than be seen going out with me, right?" his words hurt, but you find yourself turning to see your roommate's sleeping state. Wondering if they were listening to a word he said. "You're fucking unbelievable."
"Listen, I don't care if you want to go out with anyone, just not them" you point at your roommate. "You're just going to break their heart."
Like he did yours. But that was mostly your fault for involving even a little bit of feelings in this relationship. You were fine being best friends for the last 5 years. Coming from the same neighborhood, going abroad to the same school. Then acting as if you didn't know each other for the sake of keeping each other as a comfort person.
"And you expect me to believe that shit?" Seungcheol smirks. You really want to smack him at this point, finding it painfully hard not to.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" you hiss back. He took one step closer to you, both hands on his back. Your heart leaps, when did he become so mature? Did you really not care if he went out with just anyone?
"I don't want to go out with just anyone. I thought I was making it obvious about what I wanted," he said, chuckling lightly when your eyes widened. "You."
"That's a shit confession," you replied.
"At least I have the courage to do so?!" Seungcheol complained. "Unlike someone I know who just ghosted despite maybe having mutual feelings."
"I did not," you lied.
"What makes you think I'm talking about you?" he goes back to annoy you. "I'll prepare a better confession with long paragraphs if you at least admit it."
"I really hate you, you know that, right?" you replied, trying not to smile. "I stand by my word before, that's a shit confession, but I don't think I can word it better."
"Fucking finally!" You jump at the sudden roar of your roommate. They sat up straight on the couch, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Seungcheol's ears turned red by the unexpected setup. Both of you become an easy target tonight, blinded by the need to come back to each other to actually notice anything out of the ordinary. "Jeonghan and Joshua owe me 20 bucks each."
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a/n. the pride of a leo is unbearable
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cripplecharacters · 13 hours
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The Mask Trope, and Disfiguremisia in Media
[large text: The Mask Trope, and Disfiguremisia in Media]
If you followed this blog for more than like a week, you're probably familiar with “the mask trope” or at least with me complaining about it over and over in perpetuity. But why is it bad and why can't this dude shut up about it?
Let's start with who this trope applies to: characters with facial differences. There is some overlap with blind characters as well; think of the blindfold that is forced on a blind character for no reason. Here is a great explanation of it in this context by blindbeta. It's an excellent post in general, even if your character isn't blind or low vision you should read at least the last few paragraphs.
Here's a good ol’ tired link to what a facial difference is, but to put it simply:
If you have a character, who is a burn survivor or has scars, who wears a mask, this is exactly this trope.
The concept applies to other facial differences as well, but scars and burns are 99% of the representation and “representation” we get, so I'll be using these somewhat interchangeably here.
The mask can be exactly what you think, but it refers to any facial covering that doesn't have a medical purpose. So for example, a CPAP mask doesn't count for this trope, but a Magic Porcelain Mask absolutely does. Bandages do as well. If it covers the part of the face that is “different”, it can be a mask in the context used here.
Eye patches are on thin ice because while they do serve a medical purpose in real life, in 99.9% of media they are used for the same purpose as a mask. It's purely aesthetic.
With that out of the way, let's get into why this trope sucks and find its roots. Because every trope is just a symptom of something, really.
Roughly in order of the least to most important reasons...
Why It Sucks 
[large text: Why It Sucks]
It's overdone. As in — boring. You made your character visibly different, and now they're no longer that. What is the point? Just don't give them the damn scar if you're going to hide it. 
Zero connection with reality. No one does this. I don't even know how to elaborate on this. This doesn't represent anyone because no one does this.
Disability erasure. For the majority of characters with facial differences, their scars or burns somehow don't disable them physically, so the only thing left is the visible part… aaand the mask takes care of it too. Again, what's the point? If you want to make your disabled character abled, then just have them be abled. What is the point of "curing" them other than to make it completely pointless?
Making your readers with facial differences feel straight up bad. I'm gonna be honest! This hurts to see when it's all you get, over and over. Imagine there's this thing that everyone bullied you about, everyone still stares at, that is with you 24/7. Imagine you wanted to see something where people like you aren't treated like a freakshow. Somewhat unrealistic, but imagine that. That kind of world would only exist in fiction, right? So let's look into fiction- oh, none of the positive (or at least not "child-murderer evil") characters look like me. I mean they do, but they don't. They're forced to hide the one thing that connects us. I don't want to hide myself. I don't want to be told over and over that this is what people like me should do. That this is what other people expect so much that it's basically the default way a person with a facial difference can exist. I don't want this.
Perpetuating disfiguremisia. 
"Quick" Disfiguremisia Talk
[large text: "Quick" Disfiguremisia Talk]
It's quick when compared to my average facial difference discussion post, bear with me please.
Disfiguremisia; portmanteau of disfigure from “disfigurement” and -misia, Greek for hatred. 
Also known as discrimination of those mythical horrifically deformed people.
It shows up in fiction all the time; in-universe and in-narrative. Mask trope is one of the most common* representations of it, and it's also a trope that is gaining traction more and more, both in visual art and writing. This is a trope I particularly hate, because it's a blatant symptom of disfiguremisia. It's not hidden and it doesn't try to be. It's a painful remainder that I do not want nor need.
*most common is easily “evil disfigured villain”, just look at any horror media. But that's for another post, if ever.
When you put your character in a mask, it sends a clear message: in your story, facial differences aren't welcome. The world is hostile. Other characters are hostile. The author is, quite possibly, hostile. Maybe consciously, but almost always not, they just don't think that disfiguremisia means anything because it's the default setting. No one wants to see you because your face makes you gross and unsightly. If you have a burn; good luck, but we think you're too ugly to have a face. Have a scar? Too bad, now you don't. Get hidden.
Everything here is a decision that was made by the author. You are the one who makes the world. You are the person who decides if being disabled is acceptable or not there. The story doesn't have a mind of its own, you chose to make it disfiguremisic. 
It doesn't have to be.
Questions to Ask Yourself
[large text: Questions to Ask Yourself]
Since I started talking about facial differences on this blog, I have noticed a very specific trend in how facial differences are treated when compared to other disabilities. A lot of writers and artists are interested in worldbuilding where accessibility is considered, where disabled people are accepted, where neurodivergence is seen as an important part of the human experience, not something “other”. This is amazing, genuinely.
Yet, absolutely no one seems to be interested in a world that is anything but cruel to facial differences. There's no escapist fantasies for us.
You see this over and over, at some point it feels like the same story with different names attached.
The only way a character with a facial difference can exist is to hide it. Otherwise, they are shamed by society. Seen as something gross. I noticed that it really doesn't matter who the character is, facial difference is this great equalizer. Both ancient deities and talking forest cats get treated as the same brand of disgusting thing as long as they're scarred, as long as they had something explode in their face, as long as they've been cursed. They can be accomplished, they can be a badass, they can be the leader of the world, they can kill a dragon, but they cannot, under any circumstances, be allowed to peacefully exist with a facial difference. They have to hide it in the literal sense, or be made to feel that they should. Constantly ashamed, embarrassed that they dare to have a face.
Question one to ask yourself: why is disfiguremisia a part of your story?
I'm part of a few minority groups. I'm an immigrant, I'm disabled, I'm queer. I get enough shit in real life for this so I like to take a break once in a while. I love stories where transphobia isn't a thing. Where xenophobia doesn't come up. But my whole life, I can't seem to find stories that don't spew out disfiguremisia in one way or the other at the first possible opportunity.
Why is disfiguremisia a default part of your worldbuilding? Why can't it be left out? Why in societies with scarred saviors and warriors is there such intense disgust for them? Why can't anyone even just question why this is the state of the world?
Why is disfiguremisia normal in your story?
Question two: do you know enough about disfiguremisia to write about it?
Ask yourself, really. Do you? Writers sometimes ask if or how to portray ableism when they themselves aren't disabled, but no one bothers to wonder if maybe they aren't knowledgeable enough to make half their story about their POV character experiencing disfiguremisia. How much do you know, and from where? Have you read Mikaela Moody or any other advocates’ work around disfiguremisia? Do you understand the way it intersects; with being a trans woman, with being Black? What is your education on this topic?
And for USAmericans... do you know what "Ugly Laws" are, and when they ended?
Question three: what does your story associate with facial difference — and why?
If I had to guess; “shame”, “embarrassment”, “violence”, "disgust", “intimidation”, “trauma”, “guilt”, “evil”, “curse”, “discomfort”, “fear”, or similar would show up. 
Why doesn't it associate it with positive concepts? Why not “hope” or “love” or “pride” or “community”? Why not “soft” or “delicate”? Dare I say, “beauty” or “innocence”? Why not “blessing”? “Acceptance”?
Why not “normal”?
Question four: why did you make the character the way they are? 
Have you considered that there are other things than “horrifically burned for some moral failing” or “most traumatic scenario put to paper”? Why is it always “a tough character with a history of violence” and never “a Disfigured princess”? Why not “a loving parent” or “a fashionable girl”, instead of “the most unkind person you ever met” and “total badass who doesn’t care about anything - other than how scary their facial difference is to these poor ableds”? Don’t endlessly associate us with brutality and suffering. We aren’t violent or manipulative or physically strong or brash or bloodthirsty by default. We can be soft, and frail and gentle and kind - and we can still be proud and unashamed.
Question five: why is your character just… fine with all this?
Can’t they make a community with other people with facial differences and do something about this? Demand the right to exist as disabled and not have to hide their literal face? Why are they cool with being dehumanized and treated with such hatred? Especially if they fall into the "not so soft and kind" category that I just talked about, it seems obvious to me that they would be incredibly and loudly pissed off about being discriminated against over and over... Why can't your character, who is a subject of disfiguremisia, realize that maybe it's disfiguremisia that's the problem, and try to fix it?
Question six: why is your character wearing a mask? 
Usually, there's no reason. Most of the time the author hasn't considered that there even should be one, the character just wears a mask because that's what people with facial differences do in their mind. Most writers aren't interested in this kind of research or even considering it as a thing they should do. The community is unimportant to them, it's not like we are real people who read books. They think they understand, because to them it's not complex, it's not nuanced. It's ugly = bad. Why would you need a reason?
For cases where the reason is stated, I promise, I have heard of every single one. To quote, "to spare others from looking at them". I have read, "content warning: he has burn scars under the mask, he absolutely hates taking it off!", emphasis not mine. Because "he hates the way his skin looks", because "they care for their appearance a lot" (facial differences make you ugly, remember?). My favorite: "only has scars and the mask when he's a villain, not as a hero", just to subtly drive the point home. This isn't the extreme end of the spectrum. Now, imagine being a reader with a facial difference. This is your representation, sitting next to Freddy Krueger and Voldemort.
How do you feel?
F.A.Q. [frequently asked questions]
[large text: F.A.Q. [frequently asked questions]]
As in, answers and “answers” to common arguments or concerns. 
“Actually they want to hide their facial difference” - your character doesn’t have free will. You want them to hide it. Again; why.
“They are hiding it to be more inconspicuous!” - I get that there are elves in their world, but there’s no universe where wearing a mask with eye cutouts on the street is less noticeable than having a scar. Facial differences aren’t open wounds sprinkling with blood, in case that's not clear.
“It’s for other people's comfort” - why are other characters disfiguremisic to this extent? Are they forcing all minorities to stay hidden and out of sight too? That’s a horrible society to exist in.
“They are wearing it for Actual Practical Reason” - cool! I hope that this means you have other characters with facial differences that don’t wear it for any reason.
"It's the character's artistic expression" - I sure hope that there are abled characters with the same kind of expression then.
“They’re ashamed of their face” - and they never have any character development that would make that go away? That's just bad writing. Why are they ashamed in the first place? Why is shame the default stance to have about your own face in your story? I get that you think we should be ashamed and do these ridiculous things, but in real life we just live with it. 
"Now that you say that it is kinda messed up but I'm too far into the story please help" - here you go.
“[some variation of My Character is evil so it's fine/a killer so it fits/just too disgusting to show their disability” - this is the one of the only cases where I’m fine with disability erasure, actually. Please don’t make them have a facial difference. This is the type of harm that real life activists spend years and decades undoing. Disfiguremisia from horror movies released in the 70s is still relevant. It still affects people today.
"But [in-universe explanation why disfiguremisia is cool and fine actually]" - this changes nothing.
Closing Remarks
[large text: Closing Remarks]
I hope that this post explains my thoughts on facial difference representation better. It's a complicated topic, I get it. I'm also aware that this post might come off as harsh (?) but disfiguremisia shouldn't be treated lightly, it shouldn't be a prop. It's real world discrimination with a big chunk of its origins coming out of popular media.
With the asks that have been sent regarding facial differences, I realized that I probably haven't explained what the actual problems are well enough. It's not about some technical definition, or about weird in-universe explanations. It's about categorizing us as some apparently fundamentally different entity that can't possibly be kind and happy, about disfiguremisia so ingrained into our culture that it's apparently impossible to make a world without it; discrimination so deep that it can't be excised, only worked around. But you can get rid of it. You can just not have it there in the first place. Disfiguremisia isn't a fundamental part of how the world works; getting rid of it won't cause it to collapse. Don't portray discrimination as an integral, unquestionable part of the world that has to stay no matter what; whether it's ableism, transphobia, or Islamophobia or anything else. A world without discrimination can exist. If you can't imagine a world without disfiguremisia in fiction... that's bad. Sad, mostly. To me, at least.
Remember, that your readers aren't going to look at Character with a Scar #14673 and think "now I'm going to research how real life people with facial differences live." They won't, there's no inclination for them to do so. If you don't give them a reason, they won't magically start thinking critically about facial differences and disfiguremisia. People like their biases and they like to think that they understand.
And, even if you're explaining it over and over ;-) (winky face) there will still be people who are going to be actively resistant to giving a shit. To try and get the ones who are capable of caring about us, you, as the author, need to first understand disfiguremisia, study Face Equality, think of me as a human being with human emotions who doesn't want to see people like me treated like garbage in every piece of media I look at. There's a place and time for that media, and if you don't actually understand disfiguremisia, you will only perpetuate it; not "subvert" it, not "comment" on it.
I hope this helps :-) (smile emoji. for good measure)
Mod Sasza
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how you hurt him ☆ ot7
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☆ non-idol! ot7 enhypen x fem! reader ☆ summary: all the ways that you hurt him (ft. song lyrics) ☆ genre: angst ☆ warning(s): toxic relationship, toxic! reader, mentions of cheating, this is practice for an english project so please bear with me, most of this is very figurative/abstract ☆ word count: 2.9k total ☆ aka enhypen boys as sad love songs, it’s like 1am i will edit later 😭
reblogs and feedback are appreciated!
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heeseung ☆
"why would you ever kiss me? i'm not even half as pretty" — heather, conan gray
was there something wrong with heeseung? what if he wasn't good enough for you? did you think he was ugly? disgusting? annoying? needy?
at the beginning of your relationship, you made it clear to heeseung that you weren't good with words.
"don't worry about it," heeseung had told you. "i'm not good either."
he thought you meant that you found it hard to say "i love you."
what you meant was that you were indeed good with words, just bad at saying nice things to him.
at first he thought he was being ridiculous, a prisoner of his own mind.
he knew you loved him— how could you possibly not?
but if you loved him, why did you say such nasty things to him?
"god, heeseung, you're so stupid."
"i can't believe i'm dating someone like you."
"i'm disgusted with you."
he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth.
what had he done to make you repulsed by him? was he being sensitive?
he hated himself for all of it.
he hated the creeping feelings of jealousy that would suffocate him like a noose to a prisoner whenever he saw you talk to another man. did you like him more than heeseung? what if you wanted to leave him?
he hated how he craved what little kind words you could give him. it was so rare for you to compliment and speak to him gently, so when you did, heeseung was drunk on it.
he hated how insecure he got.
he hated how his mind was a gallow of its own.
he hated how afraid he was.
"you're so pretty," you whispered into his ear.
heeseung's stomach did flips. did you really mean it? was he as pretty as all the other men you entertained yourself with? was that why you kissed him and not them?
did this mean that you really loved him?
heeseung felt something tighten around his neck. not in that suffocating way that made him claw at his skin until he bled as he stared in the mirror asking himself what could be changed, but in the way that made him feel warm all over.
he’d wait at the gallows like a convicted prisoner, he’d stand there proud, ready to say his last words. he’d keep his hands behind his back, he’d admire the brass noose that would be his eternal necklace.
because for heeseung, to be with you, and to love you, was to be helpless.
to love you was to wait like a dog in the cold.
to love you was to eat your every word like it was his last meal.
to love you was to be your prisoner waiting for you to execute him.
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jay ☆
"pretend that we are more than friends, then of course I'll let you break my heart again" — let you break my heart again, laufey
it's not your fault, jay tells himself. it's not your fault that you can't love him.
but at what point does it become your fault?
you knew that he loved you. he'd told you multiple times, shown you a billion other times. anyone with eyes could tell that he was head over heels in love with you. everyone knew.
especially you— you who rejected him time and time again, laughing that he was just a friend to you.
but here you were, pressing yourself up against him, looking at him with lidded eyes and licking your lips like you wanted to eat him. you held his hand against your chest, whispering a soft "good night." jay knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, not with you so close to him, not with the ache in his chest.
it's not your fault that he loves you, jay thought. but it is your fault that you lead him on, that you pretend to kiss him, that you snuggle up next to him knowing that he'd lay down his life for you.
did you enjoy torturing him like this?
what pleasure did you take in constantly making him think that he had a chance with you?
was this how it was going to be forever?
were you always going to keep him waiting like this, just because you knew that he'd stay no matter what?
jay swallowed the lump in his throat.
he couldn't continue living like this, having you play with his feeling like this.
"jay..." you mumbled, reaching out for him. jay was pulled out of his thoughts, his eyes flickering to you. you looked so innocent and peaceful despite himself. how could he ever stop? how could he stop when it was you at hand?
"i'm here," he hummed, throwing an arm around you. i'm always here.
you were warm, and soft, and everything that jay could ever want in a person. your soft breathing brushed up against his cheek.
jay stared at your sleeping face.
would it hurt to pretend that you were more than friends?
he let his eyelids fall slowly.
he could imagine you and him dancing in the kitchen, laughing together as the scent of jay's cooking filled the apartment. jazz music would be playing, and you'd pretend to be an old flapper couple from the '20's, swirling around the cold kitchen tiles.
your words from earlier echoed in his head.
"i love you so much, jay!"
"you're the best."
"how could i ever be so lucky to meet you?"
it made his heart pound in his chest, unable to hide the lovesick grin spreading on his face.
he knew your words meant nothing, that you truly only saw him as a friend.
he needed to stop this delusion now, else he'd be even more hurt than he already was. you broke his heart over and over again, as if it meant nothing to you.
but as you and him twirled around his head, basking in each other's presence, jay couldn't bring himself to let you go.
he'd let you, jay thought. he'd let you break his heart.
as many times as you wanted.
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jake ☆
"the other man will always cry himself to sleep, the other man will never have her love to keep" — the other woman, lana del rey
of course jake knew that he wasn't the only man in your life.
how many times did he lay in bed at night, wishing that it was him that could hold you? how many times did he dream of being the man that could call you his? how many fantasies did he have of marrying you, of giving you the world?
and how many times did he have to remind himself that he couldn't have you— that you already had someone to love?
it made jake feel sick, seeing all the pictures that you posted with you and your husband, hearing all the chatter about your 2-year wedding anniversary, and forcing himself to smile as a tight-lipped "congratulations" fell from his mouth.
but what made him even more sick was how happy he felt whenever you showed up at his doorstep in the depths of the night.
jake couldn't help it.
he couldn't help how his stomach did flips when your hands slithered up his chest, wrapping around his neck as you pressed kisses against his jaw.
he couldn't help how his body moved on its own as he took in the scent of your perfume, his head filling with nothing but you, you, you.
he couldn't help how he craved you, how he was unable to pull away from you, even though he knew you had a husband waiting for you back home.
he couldn't help how for a moment, he could pretend that you were his; for a moment, he could live in the illusion that he was the one that you came home to every night, that he was the one that you woke up with in the morning, that he was the one that you sat at the kitchen table with to discuss your weekly grocery list, that he was the one that you laughed with in the depths of night, that he was the only man that you loved.
but as quickly as it started, you were already out the door, waving goodbye with a sweet smile as if you hadn't committed a crime against your husband.
jake knew the sight of your retreating back better than anyone, and as he closed the door, he'd suck in a sharp breath.
he would deny it over and over, until his words lost meaning.
but he knew the truth.
he was a fool for thinking that he could have you, for after all this time, he was the other man.
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sunghoon ☆
"i bet on losing dogs, i know they're losing and i'll pay for my place" — i bet on losing dogs, mitski
you and sunghoon were never meant to work out, and he knew this.
everyone said that you'd hurt him. he'd seen it with his own eyes, how you bore your bloody teeth and ripped into people like they were your prey, how you barked venomous words at people.
you were a losing dog to begin with, a losing dog that would never truly love him the same way you loved yourself.
and before he knew it, sunghoon realized that everyone was right.
you sunk your teeth into him, feasting on what love he could give you like a ravenous hyena.
but how could he resist you? how could he resist your touch, your warmth, your limited moments of compassion?
wounded, bleeding, scarred, sunghoon staggered away from the killing floor. yet, he was unable to stop himself from turning over his shoulder to see your face.
there was something disgusting he felt, something that made sunghoon nauseous. his stomach churned. and then he realized, he couldn't bring himself to leave you.
because you were a starving dog, thristy for a victim.
because you were a wailing dog, weeping over your kill as if it would atone you.
because you were a losing dog, a dog that sunghoon placed his bets on.
and it was time for him to pay the price of his actions.
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sunoo ☆
"i know who you pretend i am" —washing machine heart, mitski
sunoo wasn't stupid.
he knew it better than anyone, that your heart didn't belong to him. it never did, and it never will.
sunoo saw the way that you yearned, he saw the way that your eyes lit up, he saw the way that you gazed with love in your eyes— all for someone that wasn't him.
so why did you kiss him like he meant anything to you? why did you hold him like he could have you?
he knew why.
"i missed you so much," you breathed against his ear, pressing him against the wall. "so, so, so much."
the taste of your lips was addicting.
you liked to kiss roughly. you liked to run your fingers through his hair and pull it harshly, making him groan lowly against your lips. you liked to slip your fingers up his shirt, making him shudder.
sunoo liked to kiss gently. he liked it when your lips would melt against his. he liked it when you played with the clasp of the silver chain around his neck. he liked it when you pulled away and giggled softly at the lipstick smudge at the corner of his lip.
he didn't like it rough like you did.
but he took it all.
he took it all, because he loved you.
he took it all, even though he knew that you were kissing him pretending that he someone else.
it wasn't hard to tell.
you wore the gold necklace that he gave you, never any of the ones that sunoo got you.
you didn't even blink when sunoo's name was said, but the mere mention of his interests or career had you reeling.
and of course, he liked when you kissed roughly so you were a rough kisser, even though sunoo liked it gentle.
you don't even look at sunoo the way you look at him.
when you said "i miss you," sunoo could tell that you didn't mean it.
you didn't miss sunoo, you missed him. you just missed the attention that sunoo gave you.
he knew who you pretended he was.
but all he could do was look into your eyes, and be reminded of a tragedy: that while you couldn't love him back, he loved you.
"i missed you, too," he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat, swallowing his dignity.
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jungwon ☆
"if you need to be mean, be mean to me" — i don't smoke, mitski
to be vulnerable, to be at someone's mercy, to be someone's lamb for the slaughter, was jungwon's biggest fear. he'd die before he'd let someone take advantage of his weakness.
yet as you slipped out of his grip, your once loving eyes turning cold as hands that once held him in your arms became the hands that striked him, all he could do was sit back and take it.
words like daggers into his back, slashing him over and over like he was a sacrificial lamb for a god that could not save him. hot tears would line as eyes as you raised your knife at him, sending shivers down his spine that made him cower into his skin, chanting apologies like they were prayers.
jungwon should run. after all, that was all he spent his life doing.
but how could he escape you when you kissed his tear-stained face? how could he leave you, for when your anger simmered down you cradled his cheek, whispering that you loved him?
it hurt, it hurt so bad.
but if you must destroy him, if you must slaughter him until your killing floor was covered in blood, if you must cut him up into little pieces for your own pleasure, so be it.
he'd follow you into the slaughterhouse, knowing full well that the darkness was the last thing he'd ever see, and jungwon would close his eyes and thank the person that crafted your blade anyway.
you can kiss him, you can hold him close, or you can strike him, you can treat him like an animal. he wouldn't care. it would be the same either way; he'd be glad that it was you.
for he was your lamb, and you were his butcher; for if you needed to be mean, be mean to him.
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riki ☆
"even though she isn’t even really gone, but things are just different ever since she cut her blue hair off" — blue hair, tv girl
of course riki noticed. how could he not?
all those bored looks when he was talking, aimless nods when he asked you a question, and loveless kisses that you pressed against his skin. it took you hours to respond to his texts and calls, and when you did, you responded curtly. you stopped coming home, always having plans on weekends with no time for him.
riki didn't know what happened.
he thought that you and him had such a great relationship, filled with love and laughter.
but somewhere along the way, you seemed to lose interest in him.
he asked all your friends, but they said nothing changed about your behavior.
did riki do something wrong? did he make you angry? all questions that he'd never find the answer to.
the silence was piercing, ringing in his ears. he'd just asked you how your day was, and all he got back was a simple, vacant stare, before you turned back to your phone, scrolling mindlessly. his heart sunk so his stomach, brows crashing together.
had riki lost you? all he wanted was for you to look at him, for you to acknowledge him. was he being dramatic?
please, riki begged. please look at me, please see me, please love me.
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Pollen Love (1/2)
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Florist Choi San x (F)Reader
Summary: The world had always been a bit too dull for the florist, a bit too rough for his petal like soft heart, stomping on it whenever anyone would deem fit - but was she any different? If so, why was she out of his reach, why did the world pluck away the flower that was supposed to put his bouquet back together?
Genre: Hurt + Comfort
Warnings: heavy self-criticism, violence, language
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 4.3k
Est.Read Time: 25 min
Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @san-network
Banner: @cafekitsune
A/N: A two part treat till I work on my main series.
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"Woah there, what happened- did the boss come at ya, at like-" he turned to check the giant clock at the opposite end of the floor, "8 am- you want me to go knock some sense into him?" he asked, pulling out a dozen tissues from the 'free tissue box' and pressing them on her nose, signalling for her to blow, only for her to smack his hand, and point at something.
"What- oh" he stared at the bouqet of blue roses wrapped in a pastel yellow paper, all tied up with a with bow. "Wait- he made a move on you?"
Snatching the tissues she blew in an extremely ungraceful manner before throwing them away, "You idiot, they're your birthday gift, take them away before I die."
His fingers touched the soft petal of a rose, smiling at the sweet gesture before turning around to hug her only to be smacked across the face with a file. Letting out a mixture of a whimper and a growl he stared at her, hand on his now pink cheek, "So many mixed signals."
"I'll kill you, wash your hands! You know im deathly allergic to pollen!" protesting she sat down on her swivel chair, crossing her legs and glaring up at him. "And what mixed signals, you should be thankful I didn't shove them up your a** for not inviting me to your birthday party."
Letting out an exaggerated fake gasp he knelt down infront of her, placing a hand on his heart, "And for that I am truly sorry, my bestfriend since childhood, but please understand how the guys wanted me to go with them to a certain club where I couldn't possibly take you."
"You shouldn't be celebrating your birthday at a strip club anyway, it's extremely unhygienic," she mumbled, glancing at the flowers and then back at him on the floor on his knees, the usual Wooyoung theatrics.
"Yet, so entertaining -"
"You're disgusting."
"But a simple man."
"Get out of my cubicle".
That was three days ago, today was a Thursday, a regular, boring Thursday so did Wooyount expect to find another bouqte in his cubicle, no. Did he find one, yes, this had been going on since Monday and at this point Yunho and a few on the others floor had begun to assume there was something going on between the two. So, like any best friend,  he decided to confront her during break.
Turning off the faucet she shook her wet hands over the sink, looking in the mirror to check up on her makeup, her ears picking up the sound of the door opening, "There you are!"
Turning to look at the all too-familiar voice before letting out a shriek and throwing the bar of soap at him, as he ducked skillfully,  being all too aware of her habit of throwing things at him.
"THIS IS THE LADIES RESTROOM."
"Well I'm having lady issues," he said before aiming the bouquet of sunflowers at her, only for her to take a step back gasping, "My lady, mind you a horrifying one, has been leaving me these bouquets when I clearly know she doen't love me enough to face death each day." as soon as he was done they heard someone flush and the last stall open, his eyes widening in fear, about to make a run for it but she grabbed his hand, "Oh no, now you face the consequences."
"So, who are you in love with?"
"For f***'s sake." hissing she face palmed, Wooyoung's boistorous laugh echoing across the tiled walls. Before them, Yunho stood infront of the sink, rolling up his sleeves as he begun to wash his hands, turning his head to meet her questionng glare to which he shrugged, "Ladies washrooms are cleaner, men use toilets like pigs and..." moving closer to reach beside her, he pulling out a few tissues, "Ya'll have tissues."
Rolling her eyes at this  statement she turned to Wooyoung, motioning for him to move, only for him to move the bouqet closer to her face, watching her nose scruntch as she covered her mouth. Muffling out a whine, "Wooyoung, come on, its nothing, just let it go, I let go the fact that you went to strip club to your birthday and didnt celebrate with me-"
"THAT'S WHAT YOU TOLD HER ?"Yunho, who was now leaning against the counter hollered. That's when she noticed it, the silence, the way Wooyoung was shaking, in...fear. No...this mf wouldn't have...could he?
"Yunho" he hissed, slowly moving back as she stepped closer to him, "You a**hole." is all that escaped him before he made a beeline for the elevator, "I SWEAR I WANTED TO TAKE YOU BUT YOU HAD YOUR PROJECT THE NEXT DAY" he yelled running into the eventor, pressing on the close button before she could jump in. Unfortunately for him, she was able to stick her hand in before the doors closed, automatically opening again.
He backed into the opposite wall, "I c-can explain." holding the bouqet to cover his face until she snatched it and started beating him with it, "YOU PROMISED TO GO WITH ME- f*** I CAN NOT BELIEVE YOU WENT TO THE IMAGINE DRAGONS CONCERT WITHOUT ME!"
"IM- ow- SORRy-STOP"
The elevator stopped at a random floor and dinged, not that the two even pressed a button in this first place, they only stopped when someone cleared their throat. Pausing midscene the two- Wooyoung who was covered in petals and Y/N who was holding the dead beat bouquet,  the wrapping paper crumbled to shreds- looked the people standng at the entrance.
"Umm..."
"Everyone, but these two, are normal." Jongho explained and entered the lift, someone next to him nodding and entering. That's when Wooyoung noticed, buff dudes hang out with buff dudes, that and how his bestfriend was twitching, slowly moving behind him, trying to hide, like she was...shy? He hadn't seen her ever flinch around any other man, let alone shy away from one. It was at this point when is gaze moved from her, trailing to catch the face of the man standing next to Jongho, who was offering her a shy smile in return. He was an eight...or at max a nine...or 9.98- point is he wasn't extraordinary, in fact, when did he start working here? Wooyoung always knew everyone, and this strange, tall mountain of a man was not part of the everyone, nonetheless, the creep was disturbing his dear darling demon, which is why he chose to speak up.
"Haven't seen you before?" his words calm but with an edge to them causing Jongho to let out an exagerted sigh and the man to nod at him, an introvert huh, still had the guts to hit on her? Creep and a weirdo.
"He doesn't, I just wanted to show him the gym here." Jongho turned to face the two idiots, the lady who sends him her work in late almost every week and her scoundrel of a friend who makes sure to finish all the morning free muffins before the poor bear can reach the break room.
"I almost couldn't recognise you without the mask?" the stranger spoke in a hushed tone, causing her to dip her head even more, mumbling a, "I didn't think you would."
"You know this creep?" Wooyoung turned to her, before biting his lip when he felt her heel dig into his toe. Pretending she wasnt doing that she bowed in apology, only for him to smile at her, "It's alright, so, this is who you buy flowers for each day?" his voice as soft as the clouds, as smooth as velvet, though unknown to her, those words, the sight of her standing so close to the rude guy, watching them physically engage before the two had entered the lift had set something burning in him, anger? Jealousy?
F*** no, they were not for this moron, but would she tell him the real reason? Of course not, shaking her head, she was about to speak when Jongho cleared his throat, "Anyway, San, let's go ....and you two...stay out of trouble." with that he walked out, her frantic gaze meeting San's calm eyes, with one last dimpled smile he walked out with a "Hope to see you around Miss."
With the doors closing she bit her lip, this is not how she wanted to him to see her, this is not what she wanted him to think- wait, was he going to stop being nice to her? Or would he just treat her like any other customer? Or-
"So, that's him, huh?" his words broke her train of thought, slinging an arm over her shoulders, "That's the guy, you face death for each morning, the guy you are willing to buy for, because he got your itty bitty heart in his palm and he has -until today- not seen you without a mask, not because you're hygienic,  no, because you'd literally get an allergic attack and die?"
Sighing in defeat she rested her head on his shoulder, "I'm pathetic, aren't I?" as she let him lead them out to their floor, as fun as this was, they still had half of the day left and he had some investigating to do.
"Nah, not pathetic,  just desperate and stupid."
"Thanks, Woo."
"Anytime."
.
"You gonna do something or just stare at the weights?" Jongho asked as he got off the treadmill, noticing how his friend had been distracted ever since they got off the elevator. To be honest Jongho had brought him here because this was closer to work and San's shop, and since he'd get off work late it was easier for them to continue with their routine at this office gym, rather than the one near their apartment complex.
"Oh- no, sorry." San mumbled, sitting back on the bench, reaching to pick up a dumble, only to freeze at the next choice of words his friend spoke so casually, "Can't believe thats your masked lover."
"She isn't my lover." he hissed cranning his neck around to glare at the man who was now sitting on the bench next to him, chuckling before chugging down a whole bottle of water.
"No" sighing, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "She's got you whipped, but you didn't know she was in a relationship- you're such a romantic Sannie."
"I'll throw this at you. I swear." placing the dumble back down, grumbling he got up, no longer interested in working out anymore, choosing to stretch out the tension in his muscles instead.
"And I'm surprised you never bothered asking for her name."
"Drop it." with that he grabbed his duffle bag , "I'm going to hit the shower."
"Mhmmm...so what was more distracting? Her skirt or the fact that you saw her face for the first time-" Jongho's sentence was cut halfway when a towel was smacked on his face, San's attempt to shut him up before disappearing around the corner to the washrooms.
.
Today was not a good day. Well, yesterday wasnt one either, well it was till he found out that the lady he had been saving his extra silky ribbons and prettier flowers for was in fact in a relationship, or at least what looked like one. Today, he had gotten up earlier than expected, a minute before his alarm rang, which only added to his anger. Then the water ran out while showering, so he had to stumble out of the tub, eyes closed, trying to keep his eyes safe from the suds of his shampoo, almost tripping off what may have been his own pants. After that fiasco, he had missed the bus, which meant he was late, which meant he wasn't opening his flower shop, his pride and hardwork on time. But was he upset about that or the fact that since he was late, he wouldn't be able to see her today- wait why is he even thinking of her?
In midst of his crisis he missed someone standing in front of him and bumped into them, thanking God for his cat like reflexes as he balanced himself quickly, hands instinctively reaching to grab the hand of the falling individual, pulling them up into his chest.
Her forehead bumped against his chest, his arms secure around her waist, her own palms pressed against his warm chest, the sweater warm and fuzzy under her finger tips.
"S-sorry." peaking up through her lashes, her face flushed at the sight of his curious gaze. "It's alright" smiling down at her, suddenly his day turning a bit brighter, "No mask today ?"
"W-what? Oh, " her fingers instintively reaching to touch her lips, before nodding, "Yeah, I forgot...you're late today."  eyes meeting his once more, as he gave her an apologetic smile and nodded. Never had she been able to look at him up close, sure she had seen him work before, thats how she started to develope these feelings. The way he'd be so focused, his sharp gaze to the way the tip of his tongue would peak past his pouty lips, the way his hair would fall over his forehead, caressing his eyebrows-
"I leave for three minutes."
"Oh-"
In an instant the warmth around her was gone, much to her displeasure, he had moved back, hands at his sides, no longer holding her close, much to his own displeasure.
"Morning" Wooyoung cleared his throat, before taking a sip of his coffee, eyes on the man who was staring back at him. To her, it looked like a gentle stare, but Wooyoung could see the swirling emotions behind his dark orbs, the anger, the jealousy- oh he was going to have so much fun with this.
Clearing her throat, she turned to Wooyoung, "What are you doing here?" who smiled at her, one that anyone who didn't know him would feel was the most honest smile one could see, but she knew better. He was up to no good, as he walked up to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling hercloser, "Didn't we see you yesterday?"
San's eyes caught th visible the dicomfort that she displayed for a second, certain gears in his head working quick, fists clenching at his sides- this wasn't his matter, and Jongho had told him to stay away from this stuff or he would kick him out, this was a new start, and he wasn't going to ruin it.
"You did," averting his eyes from her face he eyed Wooyoung, scanning him, he was smaller than him, in stature and build, bet he was quicker than him though- no, he wasn't supposed to be thinking like this anymore.
"San...right?" her words catching him off guard, inhaling sharply he turned back to her with a smile, "Nodding, yes, San, Choi San." Noting how her she was mimicking a smile of her own, eyes swirling with untold stories, ones he'd love to hear, all the time.
"Wooyoung" he brought his hand forward, somewhat coming infront of her, much to San's displeasure, but he shook his hand nontheless, with a fake smile, before catching her eyes again, his fake smiling morphing into his dimpled one.
"Will you be coming in today?" he asked them, "Give me a minute I just have to open up-"
"N-no its okay, we were just passing by!" she cut him off, before looking at how the two idiots were still gripping onto each other's hands. Wooyoung was going to be the death of her.
Turning his head to look at her he nodded in understanding before he felt the idiot squeeze his hand,  only sparing  him a glance then looking at their clasped hands, an awkward silence settling between the three.
"Umm..."
"Wooyoung."
With a firm nod he let go, smirking at the way the bigger male wiped his palm with his pants, trying to be oh so discreet about it.
"Good grip" was all he said before moving to Y/N, "Let's go, love." walking ahead as she sighed, wanting to smack him so hard right now. Turning to San she bowed politely, "I apologise, he can be a handful sometimes, it was nice seeing you."
She was almost a good foot away before he called out, "WAIT!" causing her to freeze in spot, whipping her head around to stare at him all doe-eyed, his heart hammering against his ribcage, demanding to leave with her, "I didn't catch your name..."
"That's because you never asked me, silly." chuckling at his curiosity veiled with his shy demeanour, "It's Y/N."
With that she was gone, running after the a**hole, according to San, who had noticed how he was making her uncomfortable by the passing minute. A part of him wanted to go and give him a good piece of his mind, but he knew not to, he had promised Jongho he wouldn't get into fights anymore, he wouldn't let the world write his story for him.
.
"Having fun?" she hissed, entering his cubicle, noting how  she was ignored. Her source of anger was glued to his desktop, glasses at the tip of his nose, eyebrows scrunched together in concentration. Eyes skimming each word before him.
"Wooyoung I-"
Words pausing at the rude gesture, a finger pointed in the air as if asking her to shut up for a moment. Huffing, she stood there, leaning against the entrance of his cubicle, arms crossed as she looked around waiting for him to finish with his dramatics for a good twenty minutes.
"Aaaand done." twirling around in his swivel chair he stared at her, manspreading, "Yes, child."
"SIT PROPERLY!"
"YES MA'AM." fixing his posture in an instance he cleared his throat, sitting cross-legged watching her lean against his desk, eyes frantically darting from her face to the screen.
"Let's go, Love?" quirking a brow she asked, "Are you trying to ensure I have no shot with him?"
"Quite the opposite, stupid one, I'm trying to ensure you do."
"You got a shitty way of showing it."
Clicking his tongue he rolled his chair closer to his desk, smacking her knee, then pointing at th screen, "Look."
Rubbing her knee she stood up, turning to look at the screen, "What- oh my god, you're stalking him- Oh he looks cute her" her words rushing out before she could bite her tongue, earning a high pitched laugh from her friend.
"Stop" whining and covering her face with her hands she peeked through her fingers, watching him scroll through the florist's shop's social media account.
This was the most fun Wooyoung had had since highschool, it had been so long since he'd seen his oh so perfect friend a mess, sputtering nonsense. "My point is, he has no personal account, and this one is recent too, its only for the shop and considering he only has male staff- this other dude - man do all buff people have like this secret club-"
"Your point?"
"Yeah sorry, my point is that he has no lady in his life, so you've got a shot."
"And pretending that we are in a relationship is going to work how?"
"He's shy and you're hopeless at this, someone has to tip the scales and be pushed to make the first move- and we all know how your first moves involve stupidity."
"I regret knowing you for so long."
"Ooooh what are we discussing here?"
The two froze at the third, new voice entering the scene, "But, I feel like people who come in late should be more concered about their work, not Sannie's love life."
"Sannie?" the two squeaked but with different tones, with different intentions.
"Yes, Sannie, San, Choi San, man who is not part of your assignments for the week. Neither of yours." he stated as a matter of fact, slowly nudging Wooyoung's chair out of the way as he moved closer to the screen, "New account, huh..." scrolling down at an inhumane speed he hummed, "So, how's his shop?"
"Nice."
"Average."
"Wooyoung, you've never been there." She sighed at his comment, "It's not average, its very nice, its pretty and colourful."
"Wow, bet saying that would get you in his pants, huh?" Wooyoung mocked, rotating in his swivel chair, smirking at the sight of her tainted cheeks- perhaps he did want to show their boss, that he deserved the raise rather than her, or maybe just embarass her because it was fun, or just both.
Luckily for her Yunho had completely ignored that  statement, instead  turned around to her, "So, you're allergic to pollen and you still go to the shop?"
As embarrassing as it was, it was true, "Yes." mumbling she stared at her shoes, instantly glaring at Wooyoung who had whispered, "Simp".
"Does...he know?" Their boss inquired, before closing the tab and turned to face them completely.
"No! God no, he'd never let me in the shop if he did, I mean he seems like the caring type and-" her words came to a fault at the sight of the two men smirking at each other, cause her to whine and slap Wooyoung's shoulder.
"WHY ME?? HIT HIM TOO!"
"He's our boss."
Huffing she turned to look at Yunho who gave her a gentle smile, "You're  right, he is the caring type, but" his lips quirked downwards, something she noticed instantly,  "He's not s pet project, so is this a little crush or do you actually like him, which brings me to my next question, how could you like someone without even knowing their name?"
"I..."her words hugged the silence that came after, staring at her shoes then at Wooyoung for some help, but he looked at her with the same look her boss was giving her, she did like him, but she didn't know a lot about him either- well technically a while ago she didn't even know his name.  What if this was a meaningless crush? There was no guarantee that he felt the same way either, what if he thought she was some annoying, clingy customer that-
A gentle squeeze of her hand had her look up from the all too interesting floor, only to find Wooyoung standing right before her, giving her a small smile. He raised his hand, watching her flinch but he chuckled, "You're crying silly..." he whispered, the thumb of his free hand stroking her tear stained cheek, watching her let out a shaky sigh.
"I- I wont- I mean I-"
"He didn't mean it like that...he just wants you to be sure of your feelings...I think they were close friends." Smiling at her he made her sit down on his chair, "Don't worry, I get it, I've never seen my demon sent to me straight from hell cry for a guy, so you must really like him, we just gotta figure out a way for you to get to talk to each other without chickening out, yeah?"
She nodded only to look at the person who cleared their throat, Yunho, standing there awkwardly, "I uh...I was only kidding, I didn't doubt your intentions....but damn...who knew I'd see the employee of the month, the holder of Woo's reigns, end up crying all because of Sannie-"
"I hate you." She hissed, grabbing a tissue box and flinging it at him, only for Wooyoung to catch it mid air, "Holder of my reigns?" He turned to Yunho who shrugged, "It's a name that stuck, most of us did think you two were an item" the taller man shrugged before looking at her sitting there in self-doubt, making him feel worse, "I, I think Wooyoung should go on with his jealousy plan, if Sannie didn't have the slightest crush on you, he wouldn't have smiled at you like how Jongho told me he did."
"You spoke to Jongho about this?"
"Yeah, well he did talk about the way San was distracted at the gym thanks to your skirt-"
"Jongho also said get back to work and not waste the first half of the day playing matchmaker."
The three froze at the new tone, slowly turning to find the bear like man standing there with his arms crossed, shaking his head, "I'll count till ten"
"Oh I'll win because I'm already at my desk." Wooyoung smirked earning an eyeroll from Yunho and scoff from her, watching the two walk out as he stared at Jongho who was glaring back at him, "Is she serious about him? He's been through enough as it is, it took us some time to bring him back on track."
"She is. I- its actually the first time I've seen her act this way, the real question is, is your boy fixed enough to treat her right?"
"Guess that's something you'll have to check for yourself....you are her...boyfriend after all, even if a fake one." With that Jongho left the cubicle, leaving Wooyoung alone with his thoughts, on one hand he was debating whether this interference was worth their time, but then again, he was right, he'd never seen her like this, not when he had confessed to her back in highschool and she had politely declined his offer, or when that guy in college asked her put publically- well, technically she had put him back in his place there and then and Wooyoung thanked God that he had the bestfriend privilege back in highschool too because if this is what she'd do to someone who tried to pressurise her due to the public presence even if she did once say this guy was cute- he'd hate to see how she'd deal with someone she disliked.
So, there were two questions that bothered him, was the flowerboy fixed enough to handle her? And did she now possesses the gentleness to handle delicate flowers?
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Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @marsvillee @spooo00oky @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt
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topherwrites · 21 hours
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FIC RECS: TOP GUN: MAVERICK - 2!
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Okay, so there was shit I forgot in my year in review rec list. I posted it and a minimum of about 10 other fics immediately came to mind. so, part 2! I also didn't put many WIPs on the first one, but I think currently in progress fics should get some love too. I'll be marking them with an asterisk.
If I made a little comment about every single fic or series here, it would be inhumanely long, so I've refrained from doing so and have just put the summaries for each.
I hope that anyone who reads this list finds something that they love on it just as much as I do! Happy reading!
P.S. If I missed anyone, I'm sorry, there was a lot to sort through!
(P.S.S. reblog the fics you like, it makes writers happy.)
part 1, if you missed it.
SOME OF THESE ARE 18+, PLEASE HEED THE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS!
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JAKE SERESIN
Parking Lots and Matcha Lattes by @withahappyrefrain
In an attempt to get coffee, you meet a grade A asshole whose head you want to rip off. Meanwhile, Jake Seresin is pretty certain he just met his future wife in the parking lot of a coffee shop. AKA Jake Seresin likes mean women, pass it on.
The Hangman Special by @hangmanssunnies
On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.
*she is both hellfire and holy water by @chemistryread
you should take it as a compliment, that I'm talking to everyone here but you.
Birds Away by @wombtotombx
You’d known Jake since you were kids, bonding over the shared experience of being military brats overseas. You were the perfect pair - he was reckless, you followed the rules; he didn’t care what others thought, you were a people-pleaser. You both became the best of the best in your field - he through sheer talent and skill, you from demonstrated grit and determination. For over two decades, everyone around you - parents, friends, even teachers - had assumed you’d both end up together, despite the fact that somehow, you never did. The Navy always had its way of keeping you two apart. Whatever possibilities there might have been, it was just never in the cards. Until you got to Fallon.
*The Backup by @ereardon
No strings attached sex never works, right? You and Jake Seresin have fallen into a bad pattern of seeking each other out for sex after dates go awry, but a year of being friends with benefits with Jake hasn’t been good for your dating life. Especially when the two of you are hiding your antics from your lifelong best friend Coyote and the rest of your tightly knit friend group. But what happens when you decide to take a step back and end the cycle with Jake to focus on your dating life? And why is it that all of the sudden Jake looks more irresistible than ever when you know he’s off limits? 
Take Care of Business by @honkytonk-hangman
The last time you met Lieutenant Jake Seresin, the war was still ongoing and you’d been in a floundering engagement. Back then you’d seen the possibility for more in his eyes, and now? Well, now you could explore it.
When Jake Met Polly by @/honkytonk-hangman
Jake likes to flirt with his Air Traffic Controller or Jake Seresin has never seen When Harry Met Sally.
How It's Done (Oneshot Version) by @/honkytonk-hangman
“Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean. “Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–” “–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by.
Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven by @sehnsuchts-trunken
Flirting with the guy who fixed your car turns out to lead to much, much more when you find out he’s actually not just some random guy, but your new neighbour and father’s new best friend, Jake Seresin.
BRADLEY BRADSHAW
*fever pitch by @greenorangevioletgrass
Arsenal and USMNT captain Bradley Bradshaw attends the mononymous music sensation Y/N's concert with a friendship bracelet and a dream. Little did he know that they soon embark on an epic love story fit for pop royalty...
This Love Came Back to Me by @beyondthesefourwalls
You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could even truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it.
I Like Your Cinema by @sometimesanalice
Bradley wasn’t sure why you wanted to see the movie again, especially when neither one of you had particularly liked it the first time you’d seen it together. But when you’re tugging down his zipper, things start to make a lot more sense.
‘cause no one breaks my heart like you by @heartsofminds
“Last times always make him uneasy. He thinks that he should be used to it by now from his track record of being abandoned (willfully or “out of their control” situations alike). None of this should hurt him as deeply anymore.” or Bradley Bradshaw is terrified of commitment and he decides to stop being selfish (even though it’s hard to see).
the periphery by @youvebeenlivingfictional
You’d met Bradley a few times before the happy couple had announced their nuptials, and you’d always gotten a pretty good vibe from him. He was sweet, he was easy to talk to—and it helped that he was easy on the eyes. In fact, as soon as you’d been told that Bradley Bradshaw was going to be the Best Man, you were well on your way to having a crush on the guy.
*Hotter Than Texas by @tongue-like-a-razor
Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin’s baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley’s dream girl worst nightmare.
*flight risk by @ofstoriesandstardust
In which you and Rooster got married while at UVA for the military benefits. What started out as a mutually beneficial deal between friends years ago turns into a point of interest for Maverick, causing Rooster to have to haul you out to Fightertown to get him to shut up. While Maverick’s fussing over a marriage he didn’t know existed, Rooster’s focused on getting the ball rolling on divorce papers because really, the Navy does not need to be calling some poor girl from his college that he’s died in a horrendous accident. It’s proving to be more difficult than he expected, especially when Hangman and Phoenix take it upon themselves to encourage a friendship to become more. 
How You Play the Game by @roosterforme
Bradley always loved October because of the World Series. He never expected a mix-up with the ticket he won to bring something as spectacular as you into his life. But time is fleeting, and now baseball is the last thing on his mind.
*The Intern by @/roosterforme
You barely have a minute to yourself after graduating at the top of your Ivy League class before your father insists you find an internship. Your days of lounging by the pool and partying are numbered as he has an endless parade of his colleagues visiting the house. But one of them is familiar to you in a way that warms your skin just like the San Diego sun. And it turns out, Bradley Bradshaw may just have the answers to all your problems. And those answers might be waiting for you on a yacht in the Mediterranean Sea.
there was something 'bout you by @bussyslayer333
bradley bradshaw didn’t fall in love, especially not with uptight girls in his english lit class and especially not the ones being forced into tutoring him.
*Ultraviolence by @babyonboard
You and Bradley loved each other, and Jake was just your old friend from high school who you tried to pay no mind to. At least that's how it used to be.
All Too Well by @bradleyfuckingbradshaw
You’re at dinner with your boyfriend and some of his colleagues at a restaurant he chose when you look over the menu and realize there’s no vegetarian option, but he’s too busy with his friends to realize that. Bradley isn’t.
October 3rd Promptober by @familyvideostevie
you go to a tailgate with your friend bradley.
If You Met Me First by @tip-top-cloud-surfer
Rooster confessed to Echo that he was in love with her before the mission. One minor problem: she has a boyfriend.
Home for the Holidays by @mothdruid
Bradley might have lied about having a girlfriend. His best friend, you, decide to help him out and go home for the holidays with him. As the trip unfolds, so does your and Bradley’s feelings for one another.
BOB FLOYD
*I bet this would look beautiful on film by @coridotmp3
Honey desperately needs a photographer, and Bob desperately needs a break.
Robert from Next Door by @attapullman
You've lucked out with the perfect neighbor, a kind and overly helpful WSO. He puts up Christmas lights, lends his lawn mower, and grabs your morning paper. But what happens when he's out of peppermint tea one night?
If Only the Neighbors Knew by @/attapullman
A month of stolen kisses culminates in Robert hosting the HOA meeting and getting you on his couch. The ladies of the neighborhood may make him blush, but only you can make your sweet neighbor weak in the knees.
*Golden Hour by @/ereardon
Willow, Georgia. Barely even a town, just a speck on a map that you tried to wipe off, mistaking it for a crumb. You’re the outsider: a fancy New York doctor, fresh out of a failed engagement, with zero primary care experience. You’re also the new town doctor, taking over for a recent retiree who was beloved. His son, Bob Floyd, is the other physician at the practice, and takes an immediate dislike to you. But you were looking for a fresh start, and Willow doesn’t seem all that bad if you can get past the fact that there's only one restaurant in town. It helps that you've caught the eye of Bradley Bradshaw, the town attorney, despite the fact that you vowed to take a break from dating. How long until you start to make friends in a town where social circles have been set in stone since elementary school? And what will it take to make Bob Floyd see you’re not as bad as he wants to believe you are?
Ruin the Friendship by @withahappyrefrain
The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he’s learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He’s determined to fix that.
International Bob Floyd Fucks Month Masterlist
a january writing event hosted by @/attapullman
Bob from Stats by @/attapullman
College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.
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koolades-world · 2 days
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one bed troupe w/ Satan
Satan had the perfect idea. He had heard you rave about the city you had grown up in and all the precious memories it held. You told him often whenever you were reminded of familiar faces, the local bookstores, the bakeries, and most importantly, the beaches. He felt as if he could listen to you talk about your childhood forever. That's when he got the grand idea to take you to see that city again for a day. That way, you could see it all again and he might get the chance to make precious memories with his favorite person.
Upon suggesting this idea to you, you practically began bouncing off the walls, shaking him, asking when you would be able to go. When he told you he could arrange for the both of you to leave that weekend, you began jumping for joy. "I'll be able to show you everything! You're a genius." You hugged him tightly. After pressing a kiss on his cheek, you disappeared, presumably to tell someone else. You hadn't even stuck around to hear the rest of the details.
He laughed to himself, and called Barbatos to let him know they planned to leave that Saturday. Barbatos was more than happy to help them, and glad to hear you were so excited. Saturday came quickly. You gripped Satan's hand tightly and skipped to the palace, dragging him behind you. You had on a small backpack filled with essentials that Satan knew he would inevitably end up carrying at some point, but he didn’t mind. He was just happy that you were happy. Once you reach the palace, and made it to the human world, you were quick to take Satan to all of your favorite places.
First, you took him to your favorite bookstore growing up. You knew he'd be just as obsessed as you were and still was. There were book stacked up to the ceiling, and were somewhat categorized. The tights aisles forced you to walk one behind the other, but you still never let go of his hand. The two of you easily spend an hour along in the section with Sherlock Holmes. Once you were done in there, you took him to your favorite ice cream place. The beach you often watched the sunset on with your family was nearby, and while it wasn't sunset quite yet, you figured the two of you could still get something and enjoy the view.
After a little more wandering around, you were getting hungry since ice cream isn't really filling, so you took him to a cafe that held more memories as a teenager to you. After school, you'd meet up with friends there for projects, or for just in general when you weren't quite ready to go home yet. While the two of you were chatting, cuddled up side by side, enjoying a coffee each, you happened to see a familiar face.
"Mc?" You turned after hearing a familiar voice.
"Mom! What a surprise seeing you!" You got up to hug her. Satan looked at the woman you'd happily greeted. He could see the resemblance. The two of you chatted for a bit, standing beside your table. Evenutally, she turned to him.
"Who's this? Sorry for ignoring you, dear." The tenderness she addressed him with hit him like a brick. He was almost certain that Mc's immediate family knew about the exchange program, but he still looked to them to check. After they gave him a little nod, he introduced himself.
"I'm Satan, ma'am. It's a pleasure to meet you. Your child is lovely." He stood up to shake her hand, the small backpack falling over since he stood up so fast. She hugged him instead, ignoring his outstretched hand.
"No need to be so formal. Anyone who's good enough for Mc is good enough for me. Besides, demon or not, you're one of the family. That reminds me, the two of you need to spend the night, if you can extend your day trip. The rest of the family hasn't seen you in a while and they'll be excited to meet you, dear." She pulled back so she could hold both of your hands in hers.
Mc looked at Satan, imploring him to agree. "I think I can make that happen." He nodded with a smile. He had never felt so welcome somewhere he'd never been. Mc began squealing and almost jumping on the spot. Satan got his second hug from Mc that day, and his third total. After agreeing to meet up at Mc's childhood home at five pm, you parted ways. The both of you sat back down, and as you began chattering about your family, Satan sent a few messages to Barbatos letting him know they'd be back tomorrow at some time.
Before he knew it, five rolled around and they made the short walk to the place Mc grew up. They skipped up to the doorstep, and he followed at a little bit of a slower pace. He couldn't help but be nervous. But, as soon as that door swung open, he immediately knew he would always be welcome there. After being greeted by a hoard of people that look like Mc at the door, they were ushered in. After being briefly separated to chat with different people, they were reunited at the dinner table when it was time to eat. It was heartwarming to see Mc in their element, surrounded by their family. He felt almost bad to have taken them away from something like this. He got to see his family everyday, but they didn't. It seemed, unfair, in a way. Before they knew it, it was time to head to bed.
"Night guys! See you all tomorrow morning." You waved to the crowd in the living room, and grabbed Satan by the hand to free him from the gaggle of uncles surrounding him. A few of them chuckled at how easily he went with you. Your mom passed you two towels and waved you both after her up the stairs.
"You should still have clothing in your drawers since you didn't take everything with you, and if you need something for him, let me know. I can borrow something from your father's wardrobe. Sweet dreams, angel. It truly feels like a miracal being able to see you today." She kissed Mc's forehead. That simple act warmed him. Sometimes, he considered Mc to be his angel too, someone he didn’t deserve.
"Night, Mom." They smiled.
"Good night, ma'am. Thank you for your hospitality." Satan chimed in, not wanting to seem rude.
"No need for the formalities. You're practically family. Now, go get some rest." She walked off after leaving them in front of a shut door together. Satan had almost assumed he would be walked to a different door.
"This is my childhood bedroom. Promise not to laugh?" Mc put their hand on the doorknob.
"The fact that you had to ask makes me curious, but yes." They swung open the door to be greeted by a colorful, cute room that had been designed for what looks like a toddler. The decor looked like it was for a teenager, but the walls were painted like a forest, with forest creatures scattered. "It's cute in here." He took in the entire room. Mc glanced away, bashful.
"You should go shower quickly, before everyone downstairs moves up to bed." They opened one of the dresser drawers, and passed him a large hoodie and pair of sweatpants. He chuckled, but let you push him towards the bathroom. Once both of you had showered and changed, you were in your room again together.
You pulled back the covers of your bedspread, wiggling under it, and avoiding Satan's gaze. "I can sleep on the floor, if that makes you more comfortable." He said.
"No, no. It's fine. That would be unfair to you." You wave him off and pat the bed softly.
"You could've told them we weren't dating. I wouldn't have been offended, Mc." He tried his best to hide the smile on his face.
"Well, they seemed to really love you. I just couldn't break their hearts like that. Besides, I actually don't mind that idea..." You trailed off shyly.
"Hmm, what was that?" He decided to tease you a little.
"Nothing! Nothing, 'tan." You laugh a little.
“Well, seeing as everything is usually about me, and my dysfunctional family, tell me all about yours.” That seemed to do the trick to ease you. As he settled into bed next to you, you began to talk about family member he’d met downstairs. It was no wonder you fit in with his family so well. You knew each member of both of your families like the back of your hand, down to every detail. It really showed how much you payed attention to detail and cared.
As you fell asleep with a quick apology and a yawn, he remained awake. You were facing each other, so he was able to see your facial features and the awkward way your arms rested. He moved the blanket up higher over your shoulders, studying your features with a small smile.
Despite being a demon, he couldn’t help but feel blessed by some divine power out there to be graced with someone as sweet, and caring as you. Watching your chest rise and fall, he brushed your hair aside a little. The domesticity of this, and of everything that day had entailed made him fall more and more for you. Just being in your presence was enchanting.
He could get used to this. The next morning would be even more fun, since he knew you weren’t exactly an early riser. With a sigh, he shut his own eyes, but not before he put one of his arms around you. He was so grateful for you.
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imaginespazzi · 20 hours
Text
Part 4: The Art of Letting Go
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Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3
Only know you love her when (she lets you) go
(In which a still very sadistic writer make things a lot worse but only so they can get a little bit better)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst, Pining, Hurt with very little comfort
Words: 7.9K
TW: Car Accidents, Panic Attacks, Swearing
A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I know I'm very, very late with this and I love you all for being so patient. I don't really know how I feel about this chapter but it is what it is. Logistical details are probably a little off but I need things to work for the plot, so try and ignore that. Per usual I did edit (very loosely and I'll probably go back over it later), there are probably typos anyways. And as always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't, and what you'd like to see in the future. Happy reading lovelies and let's get a W this weekend. <3
December 2023
A week or so after they get back from the Cayman Islands, Azzi feels like she’s been sleep-walking through life, everything around her hazy and dull. She religiously sticks to a routine of eat-study-practice-sleep. Except well, sleep isn’t really sleeping. It’s her brain conjuring images of blonde hair and blue eyes and Azzi forcing herself to wake-up from a nightmare that used to be her favourite dream. 
She doesn’t tell anyone what happened, lying to herself it’s because it would be embarrassing and not because it would mean having to face the truth. Still, it doesn’t mean that her teammates can’t piece together little bits. There must be something quite sinister about the air around her, because none of her normally nosy and eager-to-help sisters try to weasel any information out of Azzi. They act like they always have, only sharing worried looks behind her back when the façade of i’m doing fine slips momentarily when she thinks no one’s watching. 
And then that façade goes to hell over the span of a couple of hours. 
It starts with the inevitable breakup with Zoe. At first Azzi avoids it, making up excuses as to why she can’t see her girlfriend. Selfishly, there’s a part of her that wants to keep Zoe, keep a girl who would never leave, never make her feel anything less than (or more than) just content. But it’s not fair, Azzi knows that, and it’s why she practises her it’s not you, it’s me speech to perfection in front of the mirror. When she goes to message Zoe that she's coming over, the text chain causes a pinch of guilt in her heart at the contrast between her girlfriend’s hopeful tone versus her own nonchalant one. And Azzi thinks that Zoe will never really understand just how similar the two of them are, stuck at wanting someone who would always let them down. Only, Azzi will let Zoe free but when it comes to her herself, she’s pretty sure she’s destined to be trapped forever. 
It’s embarrassing to admit that Azzi remembers the apartment in Storrs that she’d visited barely a handful of times a lot more than she remembers the apartment she’s currently in, the one that belongs to her girlfriend. Zoe sits rigidly on the couch with the same reserved, guarded expression she’s had since she’d opened the door, clearly aware of what was about to happen. Her foot taps incessantly as the silence between them drags on.
“You deserve better,” Azzi says finally, keeping her eyes firmly locked on the floor. 
“No,” Zoe’s voice is cold, “don’t say shit like that. It’s a cop out. It’s the shit people say to make themselves feel better-”
“Zoe-”
“Don’t be a fucking coward Azzi. Look me in the eye and say it, say exactly what you’re here to.”
Azzi doesn’t want to do any of that. She wants to crumble to the ground and let it swallow her until she’s buried so far away from the mess she’s created. But she owes Zoe this. When she does look at Zoe, there’s this look in the other girl’s eyes that Azzi had never thought herself capable of evoking in anyone and she has to swallow away the bile that rises in her throat, disgusted by her own self. 
“I’m breaking up with you,” Azzi whispers. Her words linger in the air, like shrapnel after an explosion. Zoe flinches, a single tear trickling down her face. 
“There it is,” the Californian says quietly, the ghost of an ironic smile playing on her lips, “I knew it was coming but damn- there it is.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“For what-” Zoe cuts herself, “no actually don’t- don’t answer that. I think I know.”
Azzi draws in a deep breath, ready to confess, “I need to tell-”
“Please-”
“Z-”
“Please,” Zoe sobs, “please don’t tell me. I don’t wanna hear it okay? I don’t- I don’t want to hate you Azzi. It’s too much and I don’t- I just- I’m so tired of feeling so much for you when you don’t- when you feel so little for me.”
“That’s not true,” Azzi counters helplessly, her words ringing hollow to her own ears. 
“Fucking hell you just ended it Azzi, you don’t have to pretend anymore. And it’s okay because I get it. You can’t feel any more than what little you do for me because- because you’ve already given the rest of it away. And it’s not- it’s not like I didn’t know you know? I only ever met you because you were crying over her. You only let me into your life because you missed her. And now you have her,” Zoe says wistfully. 
It’s terrible the way everything else becomes white noise as Azzi’s ear latches on the last sentence, a sentence that couldn’t be any further away from the truth. She was prepared for the accusations, for Zoe to hurl every curse word in the book at her, but this, the unintended reminder that she was giving up on soft, sweet, gentle Zoe for something that she didn’t have, hurts far more than any words could. 
“This isn’t about-” 
Zoe’s quick to cut Azzi off, pushing herself off the couch they had been sharing, trying to put even more space in between them, “please do not insult my intelligence by finishing that sentence. I deserve that much at least.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are because I know- I know who you are Azzi and I know you’re a good person and that’s why- that’s why I don’t wanna know okay? Whatever you did- whatever happened- just let me- just let me have this. Let me remember you as someone good- someone great,” Zoe pleads.
“If that’s what you want Zo,” Azzi answers weakly, the guilty clawing at her heart. She doesn’t think she deserves to be remembered like that, doesn’t think she’s worthy of being thought of with fondness, not anymore. 
Zoe doesn’t make any acknowledgement of Azzi having spoken as she starts to pace, “I should have known. You know the day I met her this summer, I got it- the appeal- I got it immediately. She has this aura, this charm. She just- she just fucking glows you know? And she’s just- she’s this huge entity and so are you and I’m just,” she lets out a hollow laugh as she shrugs,  “I’m just a girl from Stockton, California.”
“And you’re amazing,” Azzi puts up a hand when Zoe tries to cut her off again, “you are. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you for what you did for me last year. You could have walked away that day and maybe- maybe one day you’ll think you should have. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Zoe. You do deserve better. It’s not a cop out. It’s the truth.”
Since she was younger, Azzi’s always hated endings. This time is no different. The bitter truth is that she probably won’t miss her girlfriend, but she will miss the friend that had gotten her through one of the toughest years of her life. Slowly, Azzi picks herself off of the couch and walks over to a still Zoe, squeezing her left hand once before heading towards the door. 
“Azzi,” Zoe calls out, just as Azzi has one foot out the door, “I hope it works out for the two of you. You and Paige always did just seem inevitable.”
***
She blames the fact she’s currently stuck in the terrible LA traffic, with the word inevitable ringing in her ears, for the way her fingers continuously flicker over the green call button under Paige’s name. Zoe saying her name had been the first time in a week that Azzi had even let herself, in consciousness at least, think of the blonde properly. And now that it had been unleashed, whispers of Paige, Paige, Paige echo through every crevice of skull. The pain and anger that she’d been trying to shield herself from, come barraging into her heart as she’s held captive once again by thoughts of her best friend. 
It would be a lie to say that Azzi hadn’t been hoping for a call or a text to come through. She’d waited two days with bated breath for a friendly quip that would lead them back to their safe haven of just pretend. Instead it was as if they were back to being who they had been before summer of 2022 all over again. Back to being nothing. But this time Azzi had been adamant that if Paige was going to cut her off again, she wouldn’t fight it, not this time. Apparently that resolve was never meant to last and Azzi feels a little pathetic with how desperately she needs to hear Paige’s voice, how desperately she wants to try again. 
The traffic clears just as she presses call and maybe that should have been a sign. Azzi’s not a bad driver per say, but as her dad always said, no one’s a good driver when they’re distracted. The phone rings for too long and she should take that as her next sign and accept it as Paige not wanting to talk, but she lets it continue to ring anyway, as she turns onto a more secluded road. And then-
“Hello,” the voice is unfamiliar and Azzi doesn’t really know Paige’s teammates, beyond Caroline, that well but she’s pretty certain this one doesn’t belong to any of them. 
“Hi uh- who is this?” she manages to get out as her grip tightens on the steering wheel.
“Oh um- this is Rose, Paige’s friend” comes the reply, the word friend said with a sultry lilt and Azzi feels her skin prickle. Hang up. 
“Why are you answering Paige’s phone?” her tone is far more accusatory than she’d like it to be. 
“She’s in the bathroom but she told me to,” Rose answers defensively. 
Azzi hesitates, she doesn’t need to know more except, “does she know who called?”
Because surely if she did, if Paige knew it was Azzi on the other line, she wouldn’t let one of her likely random hookups answer the phone, surely Paige would know what it would do, how it would make her feel. 
“Uh yeah- I told her Azzi called and she seemed pretty sure she wanted me to pick up.”
Maybe Paige does know what it would do, does know how it would make Azzi feel, maybe that’s the whole fucking point. Through the phone she can hear quiet footsteps walking closer, towards Rose. When Paige is close enough that Azzi can make out the sound of her breathing, can almost picture the way her chest is heaving, that’s when the tears finally fall, blurring her vision. 
She doesn’t see the blinking headlights rushing towards her until it’s too late and then she’s swerving. The world around her erupts in motion and light and noise, everything spinning and spinning and spinning. For one moment, as she loses complete control of her car, Azzi thinks maybe this is it. And the most terrifying part of it, is that for a second, she’s not all that opposed to the idea of this being the end. It’s a singular image of her parents in her brain that has her regaining her senses and hitting the brakes as hard as she can. Her tires screech as her car barrels into a tree and her entire body jerks around in her car, her seatbelt leaving burn scars against her neck. Azzi feels her heartbeat going haywire, as everything comes to a halt. 
“Oh my god, oh my god,” Rose’s panicked voice echoes. 
“What?” and there’s Paige and even in this wreckage, Azzi’s heart stutters at the sound of her best friend. 
“I think she crashed-”
“WHAT?” there’s frantic shuffling until, “Azzi? Azzi? Hello? Are you there? Fuck. Azzi are you okay? Please say something. C’mon Az. I know you’re there. Can you hear me? Please be okay. Azzi? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Azzi?”
Azzi opens and closes her mouth, trying to answer to the call of her name, but nothing comes out. She feels hot and cold all over at the same and she swears there’s a hand curled around her neck because she can’t fucking breathe. 
“Azzi,” Paige says again desperately, “please say something.”
“P-Paige,” Azzi finally manages to stutter, her chest heaving as she gasps for air. There’s blood rushing to her ears and everything around her feels hazy. 
“Azzi,” and that one syllable is wrapped in so much emotion, “I’m here okay, are you okay?”
No, Azzi thinks, I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay. 
“I c-can’t breathe. I think” she grasps at her neck, “I th-think I’m having a panic attack.”
Paige curses under her breath, “okay, okay alright listen to me breathe okay? And try to match it okay?”
“O-okay,” Azzi whispers, pressing her head to her steering wheel as she tries to mimic Paige’s exaggerated deep breaths on the other end of the line. 
“Good girl, you’re doing so well for me Azzi, just keep breathing okay,” Paige’s voice is far calmer than she probably is in reality, “just keep breathing with me okay.”
Azzi closes her eyes as she feels her chest slowly start to loosen up and lets herself be immersed by Paige’s soothing words of comfort. And for a second, it almost feels as if her best friend is right there with her. For a second, Azzi imagines that they’re on a whole other planet, just them in their little world, like it always should have been, like she’d once been so sure it would be. It’s a beautiful dream that reality is quick to gatecrash. 
“Babe, is she okay?” Rose asks, and Azzi’s eyes fly open at the term of endearment. She’s not on a different planet. She’s alone. And Paige isn’t. 
“I’m fine,” Azzi breathes out and then more firmly, “I’m fine.”
“Thank God,” Paige lets out a sigh of relief before her tone turns sour “what the actual fuck Azzi?”
Azzi winces at the loudness, pretty sure she might have a concussion from the way her head had crashed back into her headrest as she’d crashed into the tree in front of her. 
“I’m fine,” she repeats assertedly, as everything around her slowly starts to make sense again. It’s not a lie really, at least not physically. There’s the potential concussion, and the litany of bruises she’s starting to feel all over her body but she’s pretty sure there’s nothing wrong internally. Well except for her stupid fucking heart but it wasn’t the accident that had fucked that organ up. 
“You just crashed your fucking car, no you’re not fucking fine,” Paige yells, voice thick with tears. 
“What the fuck do you care?” Azzi bites back, “sorry I interrupted your fucking night Paige. I swear it won’t happen again.”
She hangs up before Paige can say anything else, sitting deathly still for a second. And then she lets herself completely break apart. 
***
74 missed calls from Paige
did u go to the hospital 
pick up ur fucking phone 
dude
azzi
this is not the time for this stubborn bullshit 
PICK UP UR FUCKING PHONE 
AZZI 
just say ur ok at least
please 
called ur mom 
said u had a concussion and some bruising 
thats not too bad 
ur so fucking stupid 
it could be so much worse 
please pick up 
AZZI FUCKING FUDD PICK UP UR PHONE 
so u can call carol and not me ok 
thats just fucking perfect
dude i feel like an accident > stupid fights 
so maybe just pick up 
or call me back
u wanna play this stupid game fine 
ignore me for now
but i’mma be in dc for christmas
ur gonna have to talk to me 
i know where u live 
***
The box in Azzi’s arm feels freakishly heavy, like she’s holding the whole world inside of it. In a way, maybe she is. The walk up Paige’s dad’s driveway feels longer than it ever has and she’s fighting the urge to turn back with every step. As soon as she’d seen the vaguely threatening text message, Azzi had decided she would beat Paige to it. The night of the accident had put several things into perspective and Azzi was determined to finally grasp control of her own life. 
It hasn’t been that long since the Cayman Island and so it hasn’t been that long since Azzi’s seen Paige. But when the door opens and she’s face to face with her best friend, despite the dread and anxiety that’s drowning her heart, Azzi still feels that beat of it’s cold but you always make me feel warm flutter in her chest. Paige smiles and Azzi’s arms wobble, drawing the blonde’s attention to the box in her arms. 
“Still a couple of days till Christmas Az, a little early to give me my present,” Paige smirks lightly and Azzi feels a river of hot anger slide around her veins. After everything she’d put her through in the last couple of weeks, the fact that Paige could act so frivolous, as if they were still fine, makes Azzi see red. 
Her voice is icier than the sheet of frost on the ground when she replies, “it’s not a Christmas present.”
Paige’s eyebrows knit together questioningly, “then-”
“It’s all your stuff I had lying around,” Azzi cuts in, trying to keep her voice confident and stable. 
The smile disappears from Paige’s face as she studies Azzi's face, looking for some semblance of emotion beyond the blank stare. 
“What?”
“All the things you’ve left at my house over the years, a couple of t-shirts, a hat, a book and a couple other things, they’re in this box,” Azzi says pointedly. She tries to hand it over but Paige is quick to move away from it, staring at the offending object as if it’s a ticking time bomb. 
“What the actual fuck is going on Azzi?”
“I might have missed some things. Let me know if I have and I’ll mail them to you in the future,” Azzi recites clinically, keeping her demeanour stoic as possible “and of course I would like my things back as well. Not right now of course. You can mail them to me whenever it suits you.”
“Mail back your things? What? What the fuck are you going on about?” Paige asks, a bewildered expression taking on her face. She reaches out as if she wants to shake Azzi but seems to think better of it. 
Azzi doesn’t say anything, as she sidesteps Paige into the house, putting in the utmost effort to make sure no part of herself brushes up against the older girl, knowing the inevitable burst of electricity when they touch would be enough to break her resolve. She places the box of Paige’s stuff on the coffee table in the living room, before turning back to Paige. 
“I’m giving you your stuff back,” Azzi repeats, “I’m giving you what you want.”
“What I want? When did I ask for my stuff back?”
Azzi draws in a deep breath, fighting desperately against the screams of you don’t want this in her own head, “I’m giving you a clean break Paige. I’m letting you go.”
Saying those words feels a lot like free-falling. Her stomach lurches at the way Paige’s features scrunch up in pain and she’d never meant to do that, but Azzi’s so tired. She’s so tired of this push and pull, the way they seem to hurt each other every fucking time, the way things get so close to going right and then go wrong any way. The bitter truth of life, Azzi has forced herself to admit, is that it doesn’t matter how hard you fight, sometimes the darkness wins out anyway. 
“You think-,” Paige stutters, clutching at her chest, “you think this is what I want?”
“Well isn’t it?” 
“Of course n-”
“If I hadn’t called you that night would you have called me first Paige?  If I hadn’t gotten into that stupid accident, would you even have texted me ever again?”
Paige’s silence is an answer in itself . And although Azzi had known it, she can’t deny that there’s a part of her that had posed the question hoping against hope that Paige would have answered it with a resounding yes of course. She thinks maybe she should be used to the singe of disappointment that burns her skin by now but she’s never been immune to Paige’s fire. 
“That’s what I thought,” Azzi says quietly, “I’m tired of running after you Paige. I thought I was done after the Cayman Islands but then I- I don’t know- I don’t know why I called you that night when you- you clearly didn’t want that.”
“Azzi c’mon-”
“It’s my fault really. Because you've always been clear about it and I- for some reason- I just don’t listen. You were clear with it when you told me to go to UCLA and get out of your life. You were clear when you didn’t want me to come into your air BnB. You were clear when you told me to get out of the bathroom last summer. And when you left that night-,” Azzi pauses as Paige’s eyes widen, the words catching in her throat, “when you were gone that morning- every time you didn’t call- every time you didn’t text- you were always clear about it Paige and I- I’m sorry I didn’t listen.”
“You’re being really fucking unfair right now,” Paige accuses, “you’re mad because I didn’t want to be your fucking side whore? I’m so sorry I had more self-respect than that Azzi.”
Azzi blinks rapidly, her face still completely neutral, “excuse me?”
“You wanna blame me for those first two things, fine. But you have a whole ass girlfriend and you wanted me to be what? Just a girl you can fuck occasionally because you feel like it? Who the fuck do you think I am? I deserve so much better than that.”
“I don’t-”
“You wanna know why I left that morning?” Paige asks icily, “I woke up and the first thing I saw is your girlfriend’s fucking i miss you text. All that shit you said to me when I kissed you in LA about not wanting to be one of my groupies or whatever but what did you want me to be Azzi?”
When they were young and naive, the largest fight they’d ever had was about whether or not one of them had cheated in a game of horse. The allegations of cheater from a 15 year old Paige had seemed massive back then, but they pale in front of the accusations of cheater from a 22 year old Paige. It’s not that Azzi thinks she’s some prime example of a good samaritan and she can deal with people thinking she’s not all that, but it’s different when it’s Paige, it’s different to know that Paige could ever think so low of her. 
“You really think I’d do that you? That I’d make you my sidepiece or whatever?”
“What else am I supposed to think about you fucking me while you have a girlfriend?” Paige asks exasperatedly and Azzi flinches at the repeated use of the profanity. 
“Had.”
“What?”
Azzi grips the hem of her shirt, trying to focus her eyes anywhere but Paige, “I had a girlfriend. Past tense.”
“You- you broke up with Zoe?” Paige’s expression morphs from anger to confusion before finally settling on realisation. 
“I never wanted you to be a side piece. You think I don’t know you deserve better than that?” Azzi rubs her temple, as she tries to keep herself steady on her feet, “I know seeing that text hurt you but it’s not like you didn’t know I had a girlfriend. But- but if you’d just waited for me to wake up, god if you’d just talked to me once instead of jumping to conclusions then-”
“Then what?” Paige breathes out and Azzi doesn’t miss the little spurt of hope that’s taken birth on the older girl's face. 
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Azzi shakes her head, “that’s also past tense now.”
The thing with Paige is that anger is her protective mechanism. When she gets a little close to losing control of her emotions, or feeling too much, it’s what she falls back on so it’s not surprising that her tone is harsh when she speaks again. 
“How the fuck was I supposed to guess you were gonna break up with your girlfriend Az c’mon,” Paige takes a step towards her, “I’m not a fucking mind reader.”
“I never asked you to read my mind. I just- all I’ve ever wanted- is for you to just have a little faith in me- in us,” Azzi’s voice breaks on the last word. 
“That’s not fair. I was really fucking  hurt Azzi-” Paige begins, her voice pleading.
“And then you tried to hurt me back on purpose,” Azzi spits out as the façade of neutrality completely slips off, “you knew it was me calling and you had that girl pick up any way knowing exactly how it would make me feel.”
“Azzi,” baby blue eyes sparkle with tears and Azzi has to force herself to look away, because no matter how much she’s convinced that this is what needs to happen, seeing Paige break, will drown Azzi and she’s barely floating as it is. 
“I don’t enjoy hurting you Paige,” Azzi says softly, “and I don’t think you enjoy hurting me but for the last couple of years, I feel like that’s all we’ve been doing and I- I can’t do it anymore.”
It’s not something she’d ever admitted out loud, or even to herself, but once upon a time Azzi used to think her and Paige would have one of those stories, one of those soft, sappy fairytale-esque stories that had no chance of an ending that wasn’t happily ever after. And she hopes that maybe in another universe, maybe they did have that. Maybe in a universe where she chose UConn and things never went wrong in the first place. Maybe in that universe, they’re happy. But in this universe, they seem to be destined for misery. And Azzi thinks the saddest tragedy of it all, is that it feels like she’s ending a story that never even really got the chance to start. 
“So that’s it then, you’re walking away- you’re just- you’re fucking giving up?” Paige says bitterly, crossing her arms protectively over her chest and Azzi feels a flicker of annoyance light up against her ribcage. 
“Isn’t that what you did?” she accuses, “Is that not what you do? You walk away every. single. time. because you can’t deal with things getting just a little too fucking hard. And what? I’m just supposed to wait until you come back? Or chase after you like a pathetic little puppy?”
Paige flinches at the hardness in Azzi’s tone, mouth opening and closing but nothing escaping. 
“I’m so fucking tired of always being the one calling, the one showing up, the one trying. I’m so fucking tired of fighting for us when it feels like you’re fighting against me,” Azzi pauses,trying to blink away the tears she’d tried so hard to keep locked behind her eyelids, “if you wanna call that me giving up then okay, but I don’t think you realize just how fucking hard I want to hold on.”
Azzi’s not sure if it’s the way her voice cracks, or the absolute misery behind every word she says, but Paige's hard and cold expression is gone so fast it gives her whiplash. And then her Paige, the girl with the warm eyes and soft heart is back, looking at Azzi in a way that makes her want to believe in them all over again. Arms outstretched, Paige takes a step forwards and there’s nothing more Azzi wants then melt into them. It takes everything in her to step away instead. For a moment there’s nothing but them staring at each other in silence, a moment where Azzi tries to memorise everything about Paige just in case this is the last time. And then-
“What if,” Paige begins softly, “what if I entered the draft?”
Azzi looks at her in confusion, “what does that have to do with anything?”
“The Sparks have the second pick, it’s where I’m projected to go,” Paige bites at her lips, peering at Azzi through her eyelashes. 
The Sparks. The Los Angeles Sparks. 
“Is that what you want?” Azzi asks quietly, trying to prevent her brain from already coming up with dreams of stupid picnic dates at the park during sunset. 
Paige hesitates. And it’s enough for those dreams to crumble, because Azzi knows Paige just a little too well, knows exactly what that little bit of hesitation means. 
“I haven’t decided yet but if- if there was a reason that I should-”
“There isn’t,” Azzi says firmly, “it’s not what you want.”
“I don’t even fucking know what I want,” Paige argues and that doesn’t make it any better. 
“Then figure it out,” Azzi yells, frustratedly rubbing her hands over her face, “I won’t deal with you fucking resenting me and running away again in a couple of years- hell in a couple of months- because you regret your fucking decision.”
“I wouldn’t-”
“Please just stop. It's done. I’ve made up my mind” Azzi begs, exhaustion flooding into her body, “just- just let this go please.”
Paige meets her eyes with a stubborn fire, “I don’t fucking want to.”
“Well tough luck because I do.”
“Azzi,” Paige pleads desperately, trying to block Azzi as she beelines for the door, but the younger girl is quick to push past her. 
“Goodbye Paige.”
***
December 2024 
azzi please just let me in 
ur parent are saying u dont wanna see me 
and i get it 
but i can fix this i swear 
i know u know im here
please fucking let me in 
i fucked up 
i know 
im so fucking sorry
but dude we can fix this
just 
can u just fucking let me in
i really wanna see u 
i really wanna talk 
can we just fucking talk 
please 
merry christmas az
u know what fuck u actually 
didnt mean that sorry 
i was just mad 
u make me really fucking mad 
christmas breaks almost over 
i have to go back soon and ik u do too
we should talk before that 
ur so fucking stubborn 
but so am i
im not giving up 
i won’t 
January 2024
hi 
i miss you
ur really fucking annoying
not texting me back
but its fine
i’ll just fucking spam 
i had an ok day today 
practice was kinda ass 
not me tho
i was great
as always 
bet i made more threes than you did 
bro im watching ur game
and
what the fuck kinda airball did u just throw up 
get in the gym az jfc 
oh that was a good pullup
not better than mine
but decent 
been a fucking month azzi 
just fucking call me back 
or text me idk 
i miss u 
sooooooooooo
hows ur day
good? good.
hows mine?
oh kinda shit 
lets see
we lost in front of all these uconn legends
to their fucking rival 
everyones saying uconn fucking sucks 
some people are saying i suck
they might not be completely wrong 
now would be a good time to reply az 
like maybe make me feel better
fuck u actually 
what the fuck am i doing 
idk if u even read these 
February 2024
idk maybe i should stop 
like maybe only fucking psychos do this 
but idk bro 
i feel like ur gonna text me back eventually 
well sc was a shit show 
i mean we knew it but holy shit 
i really wanna talk to you about it
it’d mainly just be me fucking yelling 
and u giggling 
fuck i miss ur laugh
i miss you
idk if u just ignore these
so idk if ur gonna even see this 
but 
i wanted to tell you first 
before u saw it from somewhere else 
im staying at uconn 
u were right
i didnt want to leave yet 
i want my 4 years
but 
just dont think it means i didnt mean what i said
that i dont wanna be in la with u
i do
its not about that
i just need to do whats best for me
and thats staying here 
fuck
i get what u meant now
u didnt pick ucla over me
fuck fuck fuck 
im sorry az
is this how u felt 
when i didn’t text u back 
because it’s actually fucking hell 
i miss you so fucking much dude
i’m so sorry 
i’m really fucking sorry azzi 
for all of it
please just call me back
March 2024
last pac-12 tournament mvp!!
dude i’m so proud of you
we also won 
idk if u heard 
it wasnt easy either 
everything just always fucking goes wrong 
fucking pisses me off 
but oh well 
u know i dont even like texting 
idk how many messages ive sent u 
its gotta be hundreds atp 
insane shit on my part 
tf is wrong with me 
did u see the bracket
see u in the final 4 azzi 
April 2024 
i fucking told u 
i told you id see u in the final four
fucking meant it
fuck 
gonna kick yalls ass
revenge szn
we’re built different in march
cleveland here we fucking go 
but also
cant avoid me anymore 
i cant fucking wait to see you az  
***
UConn 87     UCLA 84 
There’s six seconds left to go and UCLA has control of the ball. The game today had been completely different from the on down in the Cayman Islands. That one had featured a UCLA team that had dominated from start to finish versus a UConn team still reeling from multiple injuries. This time around, UCLA seemed to have lost some of their shine and UConn had been on a tear. She would never give Paige the satisfaction of knowing it but her stupid goading, her incessant smirking because UConn seemed poised to win handedly, had gotten in Azzi’s head for most of the game. The fourth quarter had seen UConn enter with a 11 point lead that had held study until the last two and a half minutes when something had finally clicked for Azzi. 
“Told you, you should have fucking come to UConn,” Paige had sneered while casually dribbling the ball and that had been enough to break Azzi out of whatever funk she’d been in. All of her anger and frustration at Paige seemed to culminate into that one moment as she’d swiped the ball straight from Paige’s hands, narrowly avoiding a foul. An easy steal-and-score layup was followed by two signature three pointers, created by her team’s defence, and suddenly the lead had been cut down to three. On the other side, Muhl had been called for an offensive foul and immediately Coach Close had called for a timeout to advance the ball. 
When both teams get back on the court, Azzi, with her competitive streak in full control of her emotions, relishes in the way Paige’s face is contorted up in frustration. But it isn’t just this game that has Azzi irritated. Paige had been relentless since both teams had landed in Cleveland in trying to corner Azzi. She’d known it was gonna happen since she’d read the text but still Azzi had hoped that maybe the blonde would just let it go, would understand just how much Azzi didn’t want to have to deal with this. Because seeing Paige hurts. All the missing and yearning of the past few months seemed to have blended into this ball of tight hot pain that had burst the minute Paige had smiled at Azzi. She knows Paige means well, and it’s taking everything in her to ignore the part of her that’s secretly enamoured by how hard the point guard is trying finally, but Azzi just can’t do it again. She can’t let Paige in again and then spend every other second scared that Paige will run away again. 
The whistle blows and Charisma gets ready to inbound the ball. The play call had been to just get it to Azzi but it’s clearly one that UConn had anticipated, because she finds herself swarmed with Paige and Muhl both trying to make sure she doesn’t get the ball. Instead, it’s Kiki who gets the ball and the countdown starts, as Azzi fights to get herself free, running off of screens, to get herself open on the three point line. It takes too much time and they don’t have any more timeouts left. Kiki throws it inside to Lauren who misses the layup but gets her own rebound and somehow the ball finally finds its way into Azzi’s hands. And with barely a second left to go, and Paige’s hand firmly in her face, Azzi throws up a prayer. The arena goes deathly silent as the ball hits the back and then circles every inch of the rim before spilling over the edge and falling straight into Edwards’ hands. 
The crowd erupts in deafening cheers as the UConn bench rushes to the court, jubilantly hugging each other with Paige in the middle. Azzi blinks rapidly, refusing to be caught shedding a single tear on camera. Her teammates look distraught and Azzi feels disappointment curling into every crevice of her skin she’d almost had it. In the grand scheme of things she knows that, that shot would have only guaranteed overtime and not a win but still, it wouldn’t have meant a loss. And she knows this one isn’t completely on her either but it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t feel the burden of it on her shoulders any way. 
But despite it all, seeing Paige’s bright smile stretch all over her beaming face as she celebrates with her team, soothes the sting of the loss just a little bit. Azzi still remembers late night calls and Paige’s broken voice too well, her brain imprinted with the misery of a girl who had just wanted to play the sport she loved and couldn’t. And even if everything between them resembles the remnants of an earthquake, Azzi can’t help but be just a little bit happy for Paige. 
The handshake line is better this time around with no one being unnecessarily hostile. One team is too happy to care and when Muhl briefly hugs her, Azzi can’t help but be a little shocked by the affection. Her team is too despondent to be mad, and Angela briefly nods at Paige when shaking her hand, and gets a reassuring grin in return. Azzi has to force herself not to run away, if only for decorum’s sake, once she and Paige finally get to each other. Trying to keep herself steady, she reaches out her hand to counter Paige’s outstretched arms. The smile falls a little bit from Paige’s face as a more resigned expression takes its place. 
“Good game Bueckers,” Azzi manages to muster out. 
The last name stings but Paige does her best to not let it show, “good game Az.”
***
When there’s a knock on the door to her hotel room a little bit after 10pm, Azzi knows exactly who it is. The look that Charisma gives her as she goes to open it, suggests that she does too. 
“Oh thank fucking god, I thought maybe y’all left already,” and there it is, Paige voice echoing through her room and from where she’s perched on the edge of bed, her feet dangling over the side, Azzi catches a brief glimpse of the UConn point guard. 
“Had a little bit of a transportation issue. We’re not leaving til tomorrow morning,” Charisma explains, “what are you doing here Paige?”
Paige shuffles her feet nervously at the doorway, peering over Charisma’s frame in the doorway to catch sight of Azzi, “can I talk to Azzi?”
“First you kick my ass in the final four, and now you wanna kick me out of my own room?” Charisma asks, voice light but there’s an edge of seriousness to it. 
“I-uh-” 
“Az,” Charisma turns to Azzi with a questioning look, and Azzi sighs at having all the attention on her, “you wanna talk to her?”
Say no. Say yes. Her head fights with itself. And for the last few months, Azzi’s done well with listening to the logical part of her brain, diligently sticking to letting go. But that had only been easy to do because Paige hadn’t actually been there. Now that she is, with bright hopeful eyes fixed on Azzi, well, this time the emotional side wins out. She nods her head in yes at Charisma and Paige seems to glow all over. 
“You’re lucky it’s me and not Angela or Kiki or any of the other girls,” Charisma warns, “but I swear to god Bueckers if I come back and there’s a single tear-”
“Then you have my permission to fucking murder me,” Paige vows, her face a paragon of sincerity. 
Charisma nods once, stepping aside to let Paige in. The Bruin’s point guard looks at Azzi once more for confirmation and then, satisfied by the small smile Azzi shoots at her, she leaves the room, letting the door shut behind her. And then it’s just Paige and Azzi and the myriad of unspoken thoughts that seem to always linger between them. 
“Hi,” Paige says softly. 
Azzi stares up at her with tired eyes, “shouldn’t you be celebrating or something?”
“Still one more game to go. Gotta lock in for that first.”
“Then go do that. What are you doing here?”
Paige flinches at the harsh tone and Azzi feels a wave of guilt come over her. She doesn’t mean to be so hostile but she’s scared that if she gives in just a little, all of her will go tumbling down. 
“Sunday is the most important game of my life,” Paige says quietly. 
“I know- I know it means a lot to you.”
“It does,” Paige nods, as she takes a step forward, hesitating for a second, before she drags a foot stool over, so she can sit right in front of Azzi, “will you stay for it?”
“That’s not-,” Azzi sucks in a deep breath, her senses muddle by having Paige so close to her again, “I thought I was clear about- about us.’
“You were but I thought I was clear with my texts,” Paige counters. 
“Paige please.”
“I just-,” Paige pauses, leaning forward and staring intently at Azzi, “I don’t know how the national championship is gonna go. I don’t know if we’re gonna win or lose but I just- I know that no matter what happens, I want you there. Because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. I just- I just want you there. With me. Always.”
Everything else floats away and for a moment, all Azzi knows is Paige, and the warmth that reverberates through her body at the earnestness in those words. If she could, she’d capture that feeling in a bottle and keep it forever. Because moments are fleeting. And when her brain catches up to her heart, and that voice in her head is back to echoing it won’t last, Azzi feels cold all over again. 
“You don’t believe me,” disappointment echoes in Paige’s voice; she’s always been a little too perceptive of Azzi’s emotions, “you think I don’t mean it?”
“I think you mean it now. I don’t think you’ll mean it forever,” Azzi shrugs. 
Paige is quiet, nerves on full display, as she cautiously reaches for Azzi’s hands with both of her own, an audible sigh of relief floating out of her lips when Azzi lets her. 
“I know I fucked up,” she begins quietly, thumb caressing Azzi’s palms, each trace sending jolts of electricy through the younger girl’s body, “like really fucked up and I get why you think that. I get why- why you’re so scared to believe me. And I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
A teardrop rolls down Paige’s cheek, falling onto their intertwined hands, and Azzi feels herself flinch, her own eyes beginning to glisten. 
“If I could go back in time, I’d change so many fucking things. I’d go back to the beginning- back to your room the night before you went to LA and- and I’d tell myself to shut the fuck up. I’d tell you that I supported you- that I understood that you weren’t choosing UCLA over me- and I’d- I’d tell you that it didn’t matter how many fucking miles away from me you were- we’d survive it. But I can’t- I can’t change the past. I can’t change that we fought. I can’t change that- that I was a fucking idiot for ignoring you for a year. I can’t change that I was a dumbass for leaving that morning.”
Tears are freely streaming from both of their eyes now as they grip each other’s hands tightly. There’s something cathartic about finally being able to cry, about finally being able to mourn the loss of what could have been together.And it feels a little bit like healing. 
Paige looks up at Azzi through watery eyelashes as she continues to speak, her voice wrecked with emotion, “and I’m not gonna make promises about how I’ll never do shit to hurt you again because god knows I can be really fucking stupid.”
They let out simultaneous giggles at that and Azzi can feel something in herself unravelling. 
“But what I can promise is that if you let me, every day- every fucking day that I live- I will try. To not hurt you. To make it up to you. To fix this. To fix us. And I can promise, that I will never ever fucking run away from you again. I know- I know it’s gonna be hard but I swear- I fucking swear- that I will stay right here and face it with you.”
“Paige,” Azzi whispers helplessly. It’s everything she’s wanted to hear and it’s too much. The voices in her head are too loud again, screams of she’ll hurt you, she always does, let her go colliding with shouts of it’s Paige, it’s your Paige, hold on to her. 
“You said- you said you were tired of fighting alone but you never- you never have to do that again because- because I’m here now. Fuck- Azzi I’m here. And I know- I know there’s so much we have to talk about and so much we still have to fucking deal with. But we can do that- we can- we can deal with anything. Because it’s us. Paige and Azzi. We can do anything. Together.”
Paige presses her forehead to Azzi’s, pulling their interlocked hands to her chest. They’re breathing in sync and Azzi can feel the thrum of Paige’s heart beat against her fingertips. Azzi’s eyes close of their own accord, as Paige’s lips brush over hers, her next words coming out in a breathless whisper. 
“Believe in me- believe in us just one more time, please.”
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In Her Clutches x W.M
Scarlet Witch!Wanda x Fem!Young Avenger!Reader
The reader has a lover, but the young Avengers are none the wiser to who it could possibly be, when an altercation between the Avengers and the infamous Scarlet Witch occurs, will they perhaps figure out something weird between Wanda and Y/n?
Warnings: Normal canon violence, sexual tension, Y/n being down bad for Wanda and vice versa, teasing, banter, fluff, some angst, some hurt/comfort.
Word Count: 2k
A/n: Here's a little something for all of you while you wait for my new series, The Double Life of My Wife.
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I breathe heavily as I limp down the hallway, my arm resting on the wall as I try my best to get to my bedroom on shaky legs.
I wipe at the sweat on my forehead as I briefly remember Wanda's darkening green eyes as she pushes the strap further, her teeth biting on her bottom lips as she whispers in my ear,
'Good girl.'
I clench my thighs together but shake my head as I try to ignore the feeling that the redhead has on me still. Even with her not around, I still think about her 24/7. I truly am pathetic for her.
Groaning I swear underneath my breath as I shake my head again, my head clouded still as Wanda sadly couldn't give me any proper aftercare, even though she insisted, I insisted that I needed to be back at the compound by a set time so people weren't suspicious.
I let out a squeak as I hear someone from behind me, their voice being known as Yelena's as I fall forward before looking behind me, confirming my suspicions.
"Oh, someone was out late. It's almost 4 am why are you back so late or is it early? I never know."
My mouth opens and closes like I'm a deer stuck in headlights, which I may as well be, before I speak seriously my wobbling legs shaky as I use the help from the wall to straighten myself back up into a standing position,
"Don't you dare tell the others, especially not Stephen, I'll never hear the end of it, and I mean you sought of owe me."
She raises a brow at me before crossing her arms in front of her chest before speaking in a low tone of voice,
"Oh? Is that so? And how's that?"
I raise my brow back at her as I chuckle lowly,
"Need I remind you about the multiple Kate incidents?"
Yelena's eyes widen as she launches forward practically to slap her hand over my mouth,
"Shush it, Y/l/n, or I can easily shut you up myself."
I grin as she pulls back her hand before furrowing her brows in confusion, I keep an eyebrow raised as I watch her turn her hand to face me,
"Wait... is this.. red lipstick?"
My face grows pale as I look away bashfully, Yelena's lips turn into a grin as she squeals excitedly while also trying to be quiet,
"Bro! I knew you were coming back from a banging session, but I didn't know it was from a banging session with a woman! You're gay!?"
I slap her on the shoulder playfully before shushing her,
"Would you keep it down please? I don't want anyone waking up and hearing this."
Our heads turn in quick succession at the sound of a low, husky voice groaning out underneath hot breaths,
"Too late for that."
My eyes watch as Yelena shrinks in on herself as Kate makes her way towards her in her sleeping gown. I choose that exact moment to run into my room, my hand pressing against the wood as I quickly close my bedroom door behind me.
~~
Rubble falls around us as we stand strong against our newest enemy.
I groan as one of her minions attacks me, punching me in the gut as I hunch over before my hand comes up to their neck, snapping it successfully.
I huff as I look off to my side, seeing Yelena I speak huskily,
"You good down here, Lena? I think I'm going to try and attack from the main source."
Yelena heaves as her gun sounds off before she answers me in between heavy breathing,
"Yeah, all good. Go get her, tiger."
I nod at her command as I look up at Wanda from below, my eyes survey the area near her as I try to think of a way to get to her without alerting her to my prescence.
Finally seeing an opening, I begin running in her direction before climbing up the side of the wall, looking over at Peter I make a sign for him to make a distraction, he nods his head in agreement as he sticks his hand out, spider webs shooting out and wrapping around Wanda's head as I hear her let out a huff, taking my oppurtunity I jump onto her back as she tries ripping off the webs from around her face.
I hear her let out a grunt as I press my fingers against each side of her head, I squeeze my eyes shut as my fingers begin to glow with a familiar silver colour, just as my eyes do behind my eyelids.
It takes some time but eventually I'm inside her head, her thoughts loud as I blush at the sexual nature of them,
'God, her thighs fit so perfectly around my head, if only we weren't in the middle of a fight right now, I'd totally give her something to scream about..'
Shaking my head I try to search further, for an answer for anything that might help us - me - to understand why she's doing all this to us when she promised me that she'd stop.
I let out a gasp as my head is thrown back, my eyes wide open as I hit a nerve before I'm thrown off her back, a hand enclosing around my throat tightly as I groan and gasp for breath, my hands desperate as I try to rip away their tight grip on my throat.
Wanda's eyes are crazed red as she glares at me before I let out a little wheeze, a simple statement that makes Wanda's hold on my throat that much lighter,
"Wands.."
After she realises who it is I watch as her shoulders slightly relax, her eyebrow raised high on her forehead as she grins evilly down at me within her hold.
She smirks before her hand tightens ever so slightly and experimentally around the tender flesh on my throat.
I react immediately, a sadistic twinkle in her eye as she watches me struggle for my life.
I gasp as I claw at her wrist, my eyes looking back at amused red ones as she grins in amusement, her manicured fingernails digging in further as I let out a simple whimper,
"Isn't this such a familiar position, love?"
I stop momentarily after her comment, my cheeks reddening a dark shade as I look away from her gaze, my eyes catching that of Yelena's worried gaze,
She motions towards me if I need help, I try shaking my head just slightly to prove that I'm okay and I'm in no danger.
Which I know deep down, that I am in fact no danger. Wanda knows my limits and I know Wanda, she'd never hurt me even as enemies.
I let out another gasp as I feel her fingers loosen their grip around my throat, before I feel Wanda lean forward, her breath warm on my neck as she whispers into my ear,
"You're doing such a good job, love. Just whisper your safe word and I'll let you go. You know that, right?"
I look back towards Wanda and her soft green eyes, mine conveying trust just as much as hers,
"I know, Wands, but we need to make this look convincing, I know you hate to, but you're going to have to hurt me. Only a little bit, but just enough to make it look real."
That all too familiar flash of hurt passes behind her eyes, I know this is one of her least favourite things to do, but it's needed, so she steals away one last kiss from me, before I feel my back slam harshly against the rooftop we're standing on.
I groan as I flip onto my stomach, my hands gripping the tiles from the roof as I wince before huffing while I begin to crawl away.
Here we go again.
~~
My body is sore again tonight, but as it was last night from pleasure, tonight all it is is pain.
Complete and utter pain.
I wince as I reach forward to turn my door knob, my hand closing my door behind me as I lock it and rest my forehead against the wooden panels of it.
I groan as I feel the realieving coolness of it against my forehead.
My head doesn't turn at the sound of wind rushing in, the familiar aroma of berries and vanilla all too comforting and familiar as I feel her arms gently wrap around my before lifting me into her arms.
I look up at her and watch as pained eyes glisten down at me with fresh tears,
"Oh, love."
I chuckle and make a joke to try and lighten the mood as she rests me onto my bed in a seating position, Wanda doesn't even dare move from her position in between my spread legs, instead she makes the first aid kit come to her,
"I look worse than I feel."
I give her a lopsided grin, but it all falls apart as I feel her accidentally push against my sore rib cage, my eyes squeezing shut in agony as I let out a small swear,
"Fuck."
Wanda's whole face falls as she whispers a small and barely audible sorry, her whole face drawn down into a frown of guilt and shame, I frown alongside her as I try to think of something that could possibly make her feel better.
"Beautiful, I'm going to have to take off your shirt to see the extent of your wounds, may I?"
I nod my head without a second thought, completely trusting Wanda to do what needs to be done, as I expect her fingers to curl around the bottom of my shirt, it never comes. Instead I watch as red wisps curl around the fabric it quickly disappearing as I pout about not having her soft hands on my body.
Her fingers trail softly over each bruise with cream to help, her frown still prominent on her face as she places the first aid kit at the end of the bed, her voice a mere whisper as she speaks,
"There, it's done, you'll have to rest for the next couple of days."
I watch with confusion as she stands up, her body stiff as I try to see her face, she stops in her tracks though as I speak,
"Wands, love, are you alright?"
Wanda sighs before she begins to speak sadly,
"It's my fault you're like that, I promised I'd never hurt you and yet..."
I sigh as I stand up before I hug Wanda from behind, her body tensing within my hold as I kiss between her shoulder blades before speaking softly once again,
"Sweetheart, I asked you to hurt me, this sought of stuff happens a lot, especially considering you're the 'villain' and I'm the 'hero'. But Wanda, you know what?"
I gently grab her arms so that they wrap around my waist, the palms of my hands gently pressed against her soft face as I speak in earnest,
"I love you, no matter what comes between us, I will always trust and love you, beautiful. You're mine in every universe, please know this."
Wanda smiles softly down at me as her hand rests against my right cheek, I immediately relax into the softness and comfort of her palm, my worries disappearing as I sigh as she presses her lips to the top of my head.
"I love you too, Y/n. Almost too much. You're mine as well."
I look up at her with a grin before speaking,
"Could you please stay with me tonight."
She nods her head gently before speaking,
"Of course I will, I will always be up for cuddles, love."
The whole world might see The Scarlet Witch as some rooted evil, but I will only ever see her as Wanda Maximoff, the love of my life.
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akystaracer22 · 1 day
Text
Free the Bird from its Gilded Cage
Synopsis: Lucifer would tell anyone who asked his greatest regret was letting humanity eat the apple. Better than admitting what he really regretted.
Notes
Golly gee good thing affairs didn’t exist back then huh!
In which Lucifer’s tism hurts his best friend, the fic.
I think I can tag this as Edenpoly considering the conversation between Lucifer and Lilith.
I give my greatest thanks to my good friend Hat who uttered the phrase “I raise a glass to the friend you could have been and drink to the monster you became” (Or something of the sort) which has not left my brain 2 years later.
No shade on other people’s depictions of the ancient archangels. I love good archangels as much as you guys but… this is very much bashing.
I’m so sorry Michael. And Azrael, and every single angel who’s characters I butcher in this AU. It’s not you guys I swear.
God on the other hand fuck you I’m not sorry.
I have been told by many people irl that I have religious trauma. I didn’t think I did but fuck it we ball.
I am so sorry this came out late but I had two assignments and I'm moving houses, I'll try not to have a repeat.
Word count: 1957
Fic under cut!
Lucifer felt Lilith before he saw her, the first woman’s aura screaming frustration and hurt louder than the tears in her eyes.
She was sitting under an aspen tree with her legs tucked to her chest.
Lucifer didn’t need to guess why she was upset; it could really only be one thing these days.
“Adam did something again, didn’t he.”
Lilith huffed and lifted her head to meet Lucifer’s gaze, “We fought, again. He still doesn’t get it.”
Lucifer sighed and sat down next to the first woman, not for the first time the little voice in his head bemoaned Adams chronic inability to listen to anyone other than God. It was really starting to cause problems in Eden.
“He’ll regret it.”
“He always does, but he still does it.”
Lucifer nodded, “He needs to learn that God isn’t right about everything,” His siblings would murder him if they knew he was spreading this kind of blasphemy, “But I do agree, it’s a little irritating.”
“It is!” Lucifer jerked as Lilith stood up abruptly and began to pace, “He’s great most of the time don’t get me wrong, but he’s just increasingly growing more and more insufferable! It’s like every time he gets better he just goes straight back to being worse!”
“Truly the trials and tribulations of the first humans.”
“I just wish he would listen to me! Not some stuck up self-important know it all who thinks I’m worthless.”
Lucifer wisely held back the instinctive defence of the Creator, “Especially when you are so much more than that.”
Lilith seemed to finally run out of steam, falling back into Lucifer’s arms and holding him tightly, “I hate this… I hate him.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No, I don’t… I hate the man God wants him to be.”
“I hate that man too,” Lucifer admitted, “I hate how he hurts everyone.”
Because it wasn’t just Lilith that was left hurting. Lucifer hated how he was losing track of the near silent breakdowns of Adam’s.
God created humanity different from the grand design, and every day Lucifer loathed that fact more and more.
“He’s going to win, that man.”
“Neither of us will let him.”
“He’ll let himself,” Lilith hissed right by his ear, the sound sending a shiver down Lucifer’s spine, by the choirs that felt good “Adams an idiot.”
“Yep!” Call Lucifer blasphemous, but he was so tempted to-
Lilith opened her mouth to say something, and Lucifer listened to the little voice in his head once again.
He caught her mouth with his own swiftly before pulling back, face flushing as he realised what he just did.
That was something only Adam and Lilith was supposed to do with each other.
Lilith blinked, taking time to process before giving her response, “Do that again.”
Lucifer didn’t need to be told twice.
The bark of the aspen tree was lit up by Lucifer’s wings as he pressed his lips to Lilith’s again.
And again.
And again.
Lucifer had never felt so good. He could see why Lilith and Adam like doing this. This felt so good.
- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -
It was hours until Lucifer disentangled himself from Lilith, still not having quite recovered from the experience. Sadly, he could feel the mental tug attached to his halo signifying his siblings wanting an audience with him. The last thing he wanted was to have them come down and see him with Lilith.
The moment he returned to heaven however, he had the distinct feeling that he might have messed up regardless.
Michael was pacing and muttering angrily under his breath, sharp sounds grating Lucifer’s awareness. When the archangel saw Lucifer, his wings physically bristled as he lunged forward and grabbed the Morningstar by the robe.
“You are so very fortunate that God was already growing tired of Lilith’s rebellion!”
“What?”
“Michael,” Lucifer turned to see Azrael landing nearby, “I highly doubt Lucifer knows what he has done, as impulsive as he is.”
“What? What happened,” Lucifer demanded, mantling his wings to make himself look larger as he stared down the other archangels.
“You don’t know?”
“Know what!”
“God decided to give the first man a new wife,” Michaels words cut through Lucifer’s anger and left only shock, “Made from his rib.”
“… what?”
“Yes, I had to tear it out myself,” Michael huffed, Lucifer noticed the dried red still dusting the angels gloves, “Adam tried to flee.”
“…”
“What Michael means,” Azreal shot the other a look, “Is that Adam didn’t take the information well, and saw it fit to attempt avoiding the situation entirely.”
“He was awake?!” Lucifer screeched “By the choir what is wrong with you two?!”
“It was the Creator’s wishes, none of us knew it would bring pain,” Azrael sighed, “However, it would encourage not repeating the situation…”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Michael scoffed, “The Creator ensured Adam wouldn’t remember.”
“It would taint him.”
“It would motivate him.”
“What?”
“Our Creator has decided to take a more… hands on approach in ensuring the situation does not repeat itself,” Azrael looked uncomfortable, “Xe employed the use of divine power to keep Adam and Eve from straying from the grand design.”
Lucifer took a step back.
Michael opened his mouth to say something, but Lucifer couldn’t hear over the roar of nothing in his ears.
No.
Nononononono.
Lucifer ran.
He broke into a sprint before diving back down to Earth, landing on the soft grass of Eden he looked around desperately.
“Adam!”
“Yes?”
Lucifer turned around as Adam’s figure came into view from behind a tree, “Adam-”
His eyes were gold.
Lucifer stumbled back as he took in the first man’s appearance, Adam’s eyes were no longer the colour of earth. The familiar dark brown orbs that bore the gold of honey and of leaves in the sun were gone. In their place was the brilliant gold of divinity, of heaven, the same gold of the-
The chain attached to his wrist.
Lucifer lunged forward and grabbed his friends arm, pulling him forward and running a hand along the softly glowing cuff on Adams wrist.
It was definitely the Creator’s doing.
“Adam what have they done to you.”
“Ah, apologies, but have we met before?”
Lucifer’s golden ichor froze as he looked back up to meet that accursed golden gaze, “What?”
“It is just that… you seem familiar with me, but I do not recall ever having met you. I apologize.”
Lucifer stepped back from the first man, “What.”
“Were you present for my creation? That day was such a blur I hardly recall all those present.”
“Adam- Adam look at me,” Lucifer grabbed Adam by the shoulder, staring desperately into those too gold, too inhuman, too holy eyes “Adam. You are my best friend. You remember me don’t you?”
Adam’s eyes flickered for a moment, that familiar beautiful earth brown peeking through for a moment before being swamped by heavenly gold.
“You are an angel; how could I ever be friends with someone of a higher status such as you?”
Lucifer wanted to cry.
The Creator truly was cruel.
“Are you alright, sir?”
Lucifer couldn’t do this.
Lucifer shoved Adam away and ran like a coward, stumbling through the bushes and past trees as he ran away from the puppet wearing his best friends face.
He didn’t even talk like Adam.
The Creator just stripped his best friend of everything that made him… him.
Lucifer collapsed under a willow tree as he sobbed into his arms.
He didn’t move for a long time after that.
- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -
Lilith found him in the dim of night, her eyes sharp and he teeth bared in a rueful grimace even as she took him into his arms.
“We’re not letting them get away with this. Not this time.”
A hot flame of righteous anger sparked in Lucifer’s heart as he held onto Lilith. She was right, this crossed a line.
Lucifer wanted to rush in, to steal Adam away and find a way to break that chain.
Lilith told him to wait, to watch and observe as she would.
“Right now, heaven does not know about our rebellion, if we move too quickly we will both be destroyed.”
She was right, of course she was. Lucifer hated it though.
They had to watch Adam go through the motions of what his life used to be. The way he would no longer wander the garden without reason.
He wouldn’t play with the animals anymore or sit and relax under the sun.
Lucifer almost broke the trunk of a tree when he saw Adam tear out a plant Gabriel considered ‘too imperfect for the garden’ even though Lucifer knew that it was Adams favourite flower.
That flame of anger grew every time that damned shackle glowed and chained Adams will.
It took a little time to figure out, but if there was one thing Lucifer was sure would free Adam and Eve, it was the apples of knowledge.
They had to.
Lucifer and Lilith also watched Eve through everything. She seemed meek through the control of the Creator, but in the few moments the attention of heaven faded and the gold in her eyes let a little bit of reddish brown through, they got to know her.
She was gentle and sweet to the animals but there was a steel in her spine.
She was vibrant and wild as she chased the cheetah’s around the garden or buried her head in a grizzly bears side.
Lucifer grew to love her in a way. As little of her as he could see. But she was the one the Creator paid less attention to, and why would xe? She is supposed to be subservient to Adam.
Lucifer shifted into the form of a snake and curled through the branches of the tree of knowledge as she came into view.
Showtime.
“Eve my dear, may I borrow your attention for but a moment?” Lucifer sing-songed, drawing the girls eye as she stopped at the base of the tree.
“What is it you require of me, snake?” Eve asked, Lucifer watched intently as the telltale hint of red brown filtered into her gaze, this was the shot he needed.
“The fruit of this tree, could you tell me how it tastes to you?”
The woman flinched back as if struck, and Lucifer’s eyes narrowed at her response.
“I couldn’t, God said-”
“And have you not wondered why xe demands such things of you? Have you not questioned why xe forbade this?” Lucifer hissed, snapping off an apple and letting it fall to the ground at Eve’s feet, “I know, and that is why I ask this of you.”
Eve’s will fought with Heaven for a moment as she picked up the apple, but she was not gone yet, “God said that if I ate the fruit, I would die.”
“And the Creator lies to you,” blasphemy dripped off of Lucifers tongue as he all but snarled at Eve, the white-hot flame of fury envenoming his words, “To eat the apple is not to die, but to be freed. To have your eyes opened to the truth around you.”
Eve held the apple in her hands, the reddish brown in her eyes traitorously present.
“How do you know I won’t die?”
“Because my dear, I have had my eyes opened long ago. To open them is a freedom the Creator keeps from you on purpose,” Lucifer hissed, “You will not die, of that I can promise.”
Eve bit into the apple, and the chains snapped under the weight of knowledge granted.
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Text
Human Shield - F1 Grid
Request from @kissjde - omg that one vid of the girl using carlos as a shield kinda for when they were spraying champagne🫠 can u like somehow make a fic of that??
I think you wanted a Carlos fic, but I kind of have an idea for an F1 grid fic that I think would be perfect for this. So...sorry if you hate it 🥴
Red Bull driver!reader
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Y/n swallows as she gets into the Red Bull cockpit.
She's been in the car for testing but in Bahrain but they'd altered things for the first race weekend based on data and feedback thanks to testing.
Taking it out on the track for a proper race weekend is scary.
Helmut took a risk with y/n. He insisted she could handle the mature team after test driving some FP1 sessions last season. But now it's the real thing.
Now she's in the Red Bull and going out on track to really prove herself.
"You got this, love." Her mechanic, Eric smiles patting the top of her helmet before helping strap her in. "Remember, just have fun. You're here living the dream."
"You think?" She jokes but the nerves spiking in her voice just earns her a sympathetic look.
Suddenly when she is face with another helmet leaning into her cockpit.
Max has been weirdly protective over y/n, she's faced a lot of backlash almost similar to his. But hers is very much gender targeted just as much as a question of her experience. But he's been incredibly protective and he always tries to make sure that she's not letting her nerves get the better of her.
"I wanted to come say. I want to see you smiling out there and I'll be able to tell." Max states patting her bicep which makes her smile and nod at him.
Max pats her helmet before heading over this own car.
"Radio check, bubs." Her race engineer, Rocky (yes, THE Rocky) states into her radio. Using a nickname he'd given her since she'd came into the Red Bull juniors programme.
He was in charge of mentoring and guiding a lot of juniors and with the promotion of her into F1 and directly into the Red Bull team. They wanted her to have someone she was familiar with on her radio just to at least give her that comfort and Rocky knows how she works better than anyone else.
"Radio check, loud and clear." Y/n replies swallowing to herself.
When she gets out on track she's acutely aware that cameras are very much keeping an eye on her.
"We're just getting a feel of the track, trying out engine set ups remember. No pressure you just trust your feel." Rocky states into her ears as she gets out the pit line.
"And there is y/n y/l/n." Crofty states as the cameras very much do immediately change to watch her. "The world watched her closely in testing. She didn't make any mistakes that we didn't at least see from Max. Now she's out on track."
"She is. I'm quite looking forward to seeing y/n show us what she's capable of. Of course, Red Bull has been quite...kind to her with bringing her in. They've brought in Rocky who worked with Seb but had moved to work more with the junior Red Bull drivers. He's on her radio, they've been very defensive of anyone who has tried to declare her unfit for the seat." Martin explains then sighing. "Now we just need to see what y/n's got and she's got to just put it out on the track."
FP1 ends with her in getting the 4th fastest time. But FP1 doesn't equate to a whole weekend of top 5 performances.
"Hey, bubs." Rocky smiles as she climbs out the car and walks up to him. "Ready for data?"
"Ready." Y/n nods with a small smile.
-
Y/n actually feels comfortable getting into the car for FP2.
Which is where she makes her first error. Because she should've known being confident in the car would lead to disaster.
There's almost some racing going on and that's when she becomes a victim as she tries to keep out the way of approaching cars. George and Lewis are apparently racing? (idc if people hate me I love making George and Lewis enemies, they basically are irl 🤣)
George gives Lewis a puncture and he smashes into the side of y/n. Actually it hurts more than she was expected when people had warned her of the pain of a crash. His car t-boning her ends up pushing her into the wall too. It's only good she wasn't going fast and he'd somewhat slowed down.
"Y/n? Are you ok?" Rocky's voices asks on the radio.
"Yeah, fuck! What the fuck were they doing?" Y/n questions then sighing.
"Car is safe. P0 then you can get out when you're ready." Rocky sighs making her huff before she quickly detached and unplugs everything, climbing out the car and putting the steering wheel back before walking around to look at the damage.
Her whole engine is exposed and the sided is destroyed.
Fantastic.
George and Lewis seem to be bickering and in her own rage she jumps the wall to safety only briefly exchanging words with the marshalls before climbing on the closest moped and getting back to the paddock.
"That is not a happy woman. George and Lewis don't seem very happy but I can imagine Red Bull are speaking to race control about their actions. Very very silly to be racing each other like that and causing a crash with another team as a victim to it." Martin comments shaking his head.
"Do you think a penalty will be coming their way."
"Red Bull will certainly fight for it. That's their rookie and she sounded very upset. I'm sure Lewis and George will be called to the stewards."
"I think apologies will be owed."
Y/n gets herself weighed but her anger has the better of her and her trainer, Wyatt decides to get her to her drivers room to cool off before there's a debrief.
"It's not your fault." Wyatt states while she tries not to cry.
She hates when she cries because she's angry. But it happens.
"Hey. Come on. It is not your fault, you got out the way and got t-boned by two teammates being idiots." Wyatt sighs moving to hug her.
"It's a joke." Y/n sniffles then sighing. "I should go speak to the rest of the team."
"Ok. Let's go."
Y/n gets to the garage, half an hour still left as she walks across to the pit wall.
"Hey, you ok?" Rocky asks making her tick her jaw to restrain ranting about it. "It's fine. We'll get the car fix and we'll make sure you're nowhere near them tomorrow at any point."
"It's still not great is it?" Y/n huffs shaking her head.
"They're being spoken to by the stewards and it looks like Toto will be having words." Rocky reassures her while she sighs and nods a little.
-
FP3 is clean and qualifying sees y/n take P5.
"You did it." Max smiles picking her up in a hug as they all walk towards media.
"Yeah, rookie of the year in the bag already." Lando comments making her smile at him. "No Mercedes smashing into you. Did it not hurt? Lewis really t-boned you."
"Yeah, but I think I was too annoyed to actually car...they were acting like dicks. I'm glad they got penalised for it." Y/n sighs still not exactly having forgiven the Brits in their interterm idiocy towards each other.
The three divide, each with a comms team member who leads them to their given interviews.
"Y/n, a much cleaner Saturday than Friday." The interviewer states as y/n stands in the media pit. "How are you feeling? Especially after quite a nasty hit."
"Significantly better day. I feel fine, maybe some very little aches but nothing major." Y/n smiles with a nod. "P5 not bad for a first qualifying. And I only plan to move up from there for the rest of the races."
"I love the optimism and confidence. I know I speak for so many people that we are rooting for you."
"Thank you." Y/n laughs then moving forward and hugging the interviewer. "Really, thank you."
-
The driver's parade saw all oft he drivers surrounding y/n like she's just the most popular person. Pulling her away for an interview with Laura actually saw Max have to be forced to stop hugging her with Lando and Carlos pulling her teammates arms from around her.
That quickly created rumours online of them dating.
But Max is definitely more like a friend who almost acts like a brother.
"You got this. We believe in you." Carlos states as she grins at him, blowing him and Lando a kiss as they walk to their cars after the anthem.
Y/n gets her helmet and hans device on while Wyatt smiles at her looking like he's beaming with pride, just seeing her go into her first race.
"Alright, feel good?" Wyatt asks making her nod. "Go on then, time to go show the world they're fucking morons."
"I will." Y/n grins fist bumping him before she moves climbing into the cockpit.
They get her strapped in and suddenly she's on her own.
"Radio check bubs." Rocky calls into her ears.
"Radio check." Y/n calls back before he tells her all the tyre choices of the other drivers.
"Formation lap. Then let's go racing."
"Thank you, Rocky."
The formation lap feels as if it goes in the blink of an eye and she's back on the grid, waiting for everyone to finish getting into their grid slots.
"Everyone on grid." Rocky states making her get the ready, watching the lights.
Lights out and while she tries not to dwell on it, her start was as good as she felt it could've been. Now she just needs to stay out of trouble.
Primarily away from anyone who wants to use their teammate as a means of smashing into her.
Driving around Bahrain and pushing, listening to every single thing Rocky says and making sure she speaks back. She doesn't want to know who is in front or who is behind unless they're a threat or an opportunity.
"Y/n is...storming. You'd really think she may be using some of that residue upset from Friday in today. She definitely wasn't afraid to tell people that she was unhappy with both Mercedes drivers and felt their penalties were deserved. Lewis even said she'd unapologetically told him and George both that she wasn't impressed and they had grovelling to do." Martin states making Crofty chuckle.
"I think they might be wise to grovel. She seems like someone you'd want to stay on the good side of." Crofty admits while Martin hums in agreement.
The race continues, and she keeps going not even thinking as she does everything she can to just...make progress. Clean pitstops help and she's just relieved that they have done what they needed to do.
"Last lap, bubs. You got this. Push and go for fast lap if you want, no risk." Rocky states and actually she's surprised to hear they're in the last lap. Has it really been that long?
She's sort of had tunnel vision, her mind had number out the idea of anything else but the track in front or behind her.
Y/n gets herself around the track pushing as hard as possible.
"P3! P3! Fastest lap. Driver of the day and a podium!" Rocky exclaims as she hears cheers in the background with her name being chanted.
"Holy shit. Holy shit. Fucking hell." Y/n exclaims laughing as she waves out the cockpit. "This is insane. Holy fuck. Max P1?"
"Max P1. Carlos P2. Behind you, Charles and Lando then Oscar."
"Oh my fuck-fuck! Rocky!"
"You just get back here bubs. I'll be waiting for you."
Y/n actually maybes goes a bit fast for her in lap. But when she pulls up knocking the P3 sigh. Max and Carlos are always there. She doesn't even properly get out before Max has rushes to her tosses her around in a hug before she is placed down, running to the team who are admittedly more excited for her than they were to see Max take the win.
"Now that is a beautiful sight. The celebrations of a drivers first podium, her first ever race a rookie. I think we've got a lot more to see from y/n and actually I'd say Max may need to worry that y/n's about to threat to him. It might be early to say this, but y/n might be his first teammate since Daniel who may pose a real challenge." Crofty states over the broadcast while they watch y/n get weighed, finally released from the clutches of her team.
Though almost every other driver appears moving to want to congratulate her.
"Good for both of them and he seems to love y/n already. They have really got a bond that we see between the best of teammates." Martin states since Max has had some great teammates but y/n could be the best of them.
Y/n and the boys get up tot he cool down room where Carlos also picks her up hugging her tightly and spinning her around.
"You are amazing, y/n." Carlos grins then placing her down. "We will give you the best podium."
Y/n laughs as Max begins yapping about some of the footage which is being shown.
Eventually they're out on the podium, y/n first, then Carlos and then Max.
Trophies are present and Max gets his medal and that's when it dawns on y/n that Max seems to be about to dump his whole bottle on her.
"No!" Y/n laughs only just managing to not drop her bottle as she tries to run around Max and use Carlos as a human shield which almost works.
If Carlos didn't tip his entire bottle over his head behind him to perfectly pour onto her.
"Ahhh, no! Carlos, you traitor." Y/n squeals jumping back leaving her in the line of fire from Max who showers her in champagne.
"Enjoy it!" Max exclaims making her grin but she returns the gesture as Carlos sprays the champagne onto Max then turns finishing spraying what little is left onto y/n as she showers him too.
"Alright. Alright. We need to get off." Y/n laughs moving to the podium and picking up her trophy as she poses with the boys. "God, I think you've blinded me. My eyes sting."
-
"We watched y/n take a rookie, maiden podium and Red Bull have not stopped their cheering. After the podium and debrief, they did their team photo. Of course and she tried to use Max as a human shield to not be soaked to the skin in Red Bull. That failed in the same way that her podium shielding using Carlos failed. I think last time I saw her, she was trudging very carefully through the paddock looking quite sticky." Ted chuckles as he does his notebook post-race.
"You talking about me?" Y/n exclaims with a smile, appearing cleaned thanks to a quick shower in her drivers room.
Max is walking alongside her with Wyatt and Rupert walking with both the drivers.
"I am. Any very quick comments?" Ted smiles as she nears him.
"Uhh...Red Bull is very hard to wash out your hair. I don't recommend having it poured over your head in gallons." Y/n laughs then fist-bumping Ted. "You have a good night, Ted."
"You have a very good night. I know there's whispers of celebrations for both of you. Enjoy that guys."
"We will!"
Max laughs shaking his head at his teammate who grins walking alongside him.
"Next podium, I am terrorising you with champagne by the way and since you didn't protect me. I'm tackling you when the Red Bull comes out to be sprayed everywhere."
"You shouldn't have told me. I'll just use you as the human shield." Max grins while she nudges him and shakes her head.
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03 @harrysdimple05 @mellowarcadefun @cixrosie @scopeiguess @racingheartsposts @c-losur3
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remaking-machine · 3 days
Text
Little Voices
tw: blood, impalement, scars, amputation, sharp objects
Chapter 8: The Adventurer
(This voice does not sound happy)
A knight is on a path in the woods. And at the end of the path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is an adventurer.
He, the barbarian, and the doctor stood on the porch.
"So," the doctor meekly perked up. "You just walk around and search for anyone in every cabin?"
"That's the plan," the knight replied.
"... Aren't you... Worried?" The doctor raised his eye brow. "Any one of these cabins might have been just normal cabins with people living in it and you'll just be rudely waltzing in, but...
I don't know- maybe, that would be more out of place than it already is."
"Well, we don't need any of those what-ifs, doc," the barbarian said, even mockingly. "We're here to get everyone out of here. And maybe find whoever trap us here and show them our wrath," he grinned.
"I'm not sure about the wrath thing, but he's right," the knight reached for the knob and turns it open. "Let's just go inside and get the prisoner-"
"The what?!"
The knight flinched, the doctor yelped and the barbarian threw his hand in front of him as a voice suddenly shouts as they opened the door.
The inside is a mess of warped and bent wooden boards, with some of their splintered edges poking out. Actually, they're not wood upon seeing the shine on them. They're sharp, bent metal boards designed like they're wooden. It's just a bent table and shattered windows here. Oh, and of course the mirror is the only intact object here.
"O-oh," That's new. The knight looked back and asked the two softly, "I'm not the only who heard a voice, am I-"
They didn't get to answer when they heard muffled screams of someone furiously fighting against what sounded like chains on them, the sound bouncing all over the walls, making it louder than it should be.
Well, they found the prisoner and he doesn't sound very happy. His nasally high voice runs through the battered door,
"Hey!
I don't know who you are, but you're not going to keep me down here forever!
I'll break these chains before these blades get to me, you hear?!"
Blades?
"What do we do? What do we do?!" The doctor whispered in a panic as he cowers out of the doorframe. But the barbarian cackled, "Ooh, he's feisty. I like him.
Now don't just stand there! Say something!"
The barbarian yelled at the knight, who has to recoil and recover from the loud noises. Since he has the most protection on him, the knight steps in and shouted back,
"Hey! Calm down- We're not your guards! We're not gonna hurt you!"
The unseen prisoner below slowly stopped his struggles and has to take a few breaths from all of that. That seemed to do the trick.
"You're," he wheezed from the exhaustion. "You're not?"
"No, we're here to help you! We were trapped in our prison cells too!"
"Not. Helping," the doctor muttered under his breath.
"Oh, really?" The prisoner yelled back in retaliation. "How would I know you're not lying? How would I know that you're not going to do something to me if you get here?"
He's doubting already. The knight could've seen that coming, to be fair. But he never expected that someone would hear him up here this time.
"We're not," the knight called back. "We're just trying to help. You just have to trust us!"
"Him," the barbarian corrected, which confused the knight. "Excuse his shit wording and pipsqueak voice, he's a better people talker than the rest of us. Not that it's a strength we need or anything. Grk- Point is, just let him help before his head explodes."
Thanks. That is very rude.
"Oh! You want me to trust him then? You want to help for the sake of humanity?" The prisoner raised his voice like it's the stupidest idea he heard all day, even mocking at the last question. The chains jingled violently as he shouted, "Then stop fucking around and Get. Me. Out of Here!"
Okay. He's more rude than the barbarian. The doctor cleared his throat and he sternly asked,
"What's the magic word?"
"... What?!"
"The Magic. Word."
"Not now," the knight sighed. He really needs to save the prisoner already if the basement is that bad and this is not helping.
"Look," the doctor whispered. "I am all for helping the helpless, but if I were you, I would not tolerate such foul bickering from the likes of him. I could barely contain myself with Mr. Businessman back there."
"He has a point," the barbarian said. "Is that how I sounded like when you first met me?"
"A little. At least you have some faith."
"Yeah," the barbarian chuckled. "Even if for a little twig like you-"
"You know I can hear you, right?" The voice calls out, a little softer this time. And he sighed,
"Just get me out of here. Please?"
"Much better," the doctor sighed. "I think... That's your cue."
The knight nodded and stepped forward. But as he walked up the door, there's something on the table he had never seen before.
A golden key.
The knight just stared at it. So did the doctor. So did the barbarian.
"Was... Was there a key where we left off?"
"Don't ask me," the barbarian whined. "I barely notice the room!'
"N-no, I don't think so," the doctor said.
"You have the key? That's perfect!" The voice perked up below. Yeah, it should be a good thing, but... There was never a key in anyone's room. Not even placed on their tables.
"Well?"
The knight looked at the door.... Hesitating.
"Should we tell him?" The knight asked. This is weird. This doesn't make sense.
"Tell me what? What now?" The voice called out.
"Hey. You're the decision-maker around here. You decide-"
"Obviously!" The doctor cuts off the barbarian. "Who wants to be kept in the dark in a place like this?"
"Thank you!" The prisoner below groaned. The knight pinches the bridge of his nose.
He is surrounded by loud bickering.
"Look, just spit it out already, alright? What the hell is going on?" The prisoner asked, almost begging for answers. Right, he's telling him,
"You're in a basement of a cabin. We were all trapped in our own basements in other cabins. Different than the last. There... There was never a key for us in those cabins, so that's why we were so confused!"
"... What?" The prisoner asked in shock. "Wait- Were you in chains?"
"Yes," the three answered in unison.
"Without a key to use?"
"We had to break some chains and maybe our arms to get out," the barbarian said proudly, despite the grimace of the other two.
"Were those "cabins", by any chance, trying to kill you?"
That's an odd question with an oddly convenient answers,
"There were... E-eyes and-and arms eventually?"
"Mine tries to bury us alive. Sucker."
"... I know mine wasn't that bad, but it was still a terrible place to wake up in."
"... Shit," the prisoner can be heard almost whispered. The knight shook his head and swiped the key as he walked back to the door,
"I'll explain later- I'm coming down-"
"Knight," the barbarian teethed.
"Just stay put! You'll get out of here!" The knight tries the key on the doorknob. It doesn't fit. This is definitely the key for the clamp.
"Hurry!" The prisoner yelled. But the doctor stopped him,
"What are you doing?! This isn't right! What if it's a trap-"
"It's fine-" the knight turned the knob open, "It's going to be fine- Aah!" And he tripped on a protruding sheet of metal. The two watched as the knight tumbled down a warped, jagged, spiral set of metal stairs, along with the prisoner's surprised shout, before he disappears out of view.
The barbarian attempts to rush in, only to be met with blades sprouting from the walls of the stairwell. He and the doctor jumped back as they suddenly spread out of the door, stopping in the middle of the room. The doctor froze in fear but the barbarian pushed himself off the floor and barrels towards the blades.
----
The barbarian is thrown out of the cabin and onto the ground. He hissed in pain as he tries to get up. But he sees a stump of his right arm... And his right foot. He glanced to see exactly those hand and feet, intact but broken off like a statue. That's... Not good.
He disregards his injured body as he whips his head to the scream from the cabin. The doctor.
Thankfully, the doctor can be seen scrambling out of the door, a shard of metal embedded into his melting arm. The barbarian watched as the doctor stumbles down, ripping the shard out with a gasp, and throws it away to hold his arm.
For him, he can't tell if he's bleeding but the pain eventually goes away. Is that... A good thing? Whatever. The doctor turned and gasped at the barbarian trying to attach his broken hand to his stump. Disturbingly, he can control his fingers. Perfectly. The barbarian looked at the doctor, and sighed heavily,
"Doc. Do you have anything to wrap it up?"
Him? The doctor? He wasn't sure at his skill on it, knowing he woke up one day with no recollection, but after seeing the physically massive man this helpless, it's worth a try.
But he pats around his clothes to find nothing to make use of. Even so, wouldn't his ugly mass of remains he called arms just infect the stumps? He never thought he'd say this but,
"We're going to need their help."
And the barbarian never thought about them as any help at all. The doctor doesn't really trust the rest at all and the barbarian always believed he's more capable at this kind of situation. Now, they are in a terrible position and they really need some help.
"... Freak?" The barbarian looked at a bush, and the doctor got a little spook when he saw two white eyes under it. The survivor reveals his face with the crow skull, holding fresh leaves in his hands and some thin strips of wood in his mouth.
"How... How long have you been there?" The doctor asked, relieved that he brought something to make use of.
"Since I heard the screams. The Pain. And the silence of... The other..," the survivor muttered. The doctor wasn't sure what he meant at first. But then it clicks. Horribly clicks. As the barbarian in turn looked at the cabin, the survivor asked,
"Where.... Is he?"
----
Wake up.
He needs to wake up. Everything is dark and it feels nothing. This isn't good.
He has to wake up. The prisoner needs him.
Wake up. Wake up. Wake-
"-Up!"
His eye squints tight at the sudden voice. He struggled to flutter it open, as the bright, reflecting ceiling stings. Once he does, he felt a wave of pain flooding from his head to toe. While it burns, it didn't felt like they're jelly, so he managed to sit up. He looked at the stairs, fractured metal jammed into the walls. He swore they were moving on his way down. The room looked wrong. The ceiling looked narrower than the floor. The metal walls idly towering over him and the... Prisoner.
"Hey," the familiar voice came out of his mouth. "Are you okay? Did you hit your head?" Oh, he hit everything, alright.
The knight forced himself up to his feet. He sees the prisoner in a big, furry cloak slightly ripped and shed off of its hairs, with trickles of blood on the floor around him and the chains on his left hand. Alright, he's here to save him now-
But suddenly, a long blade springs from the cracks of the floor, and the knight narrowly dodged before it even touch his face. As he fell on his back, he tries to recover but another, smaller blade emerges in front of him. He tries to move to his side, but another pops up. Then another. Then another. They're blocking him.
As he shuffles away, he hears chains shifting. The prisoner reaches out for him but the chains hold him back, and in his dismay, he strained and pulled at the chains, his feet uselessly sliding on the smooth floor as he tries to run but is still held in place.
"Don't struggle!" The knight cried out. "You're going to break your hand. Trust me!"
The prisoner huffed in pure frustration and dropped the chains. Meanwhile, the blades slid back into the floor. The knight is not taking the chance and chose to back off, but not without standing up first.
The knight takes a good look at the prisoner. His eyes are wide with round, charcoal eyes. A tooth gap on the side of his teeth. Even his hair looked wild and fluffed up. Damn, he had been through a scruffle, hadn't he? With all the blades somehow sticking out wherever and whenever they want. It takes a hardened man to endure that.
The prisoner was staring off the distance while he catches his breaths when he looked and realize the knight is looking at him. That is one... Disheveled knight-
"Oh, you looked like you've seen better days. Were those cabins that bad?"
"... Yeah."
"Wait, how many cabins did you enter?"
"Uhh... 7, in counting-"
"7 Cabins?" He raised his voice. "Holy shit."
The knight looked down at himself and realized how... Awful he looked. Scratches, dents, dirt and now even sludge. Even the dent on his left arm still continues to give him bad memories.
"Is it..," the knight rubbed his neck, his face flushed as he looks away and hides his stained self with his cape. "Is it bad?"
"No! No, no, no, It's-" the knight looked up to see the prisoner beaming but stumbling on his words, "It's impressive! Like- They're like signs of a fight and you made it in the end of it! You must be really proud of yourself."
"I am more worried for myself than proud. I almost died."
"Well, at least you're alive," the prisoner snorted. "And you made it here! After seven cabins- I'm sorry but that is a lot. I don't even know how you survived falling down the stairs!"
Oh. He sounds quite the adventurer. Now that he isn't yelling at him, his burst of energy is quite infectious. It's almost encouraging. The knight flinched at the sudden brief sting in his head. He had to hold the endearing moment and his temple for minute.
"Oh- Sorry," the adventurer said. "Are you hurt, though? I watched you literally crumple when you landed here."
"Oh, my head hurts," the knight groaned, but really it's his whole body. "But I should be fine. I'll just get the key and get you out of here-"
The key. Where's the key?
The knight spun around and found the key near the corner. He must have dropped it on his way down here. He went to grab it and as soon as he reached down, small blades sprouted around the key for a second and he pulls away immediately. He huffed and tried to get it again, but they keep popping up. For the fourth time, he grabbed it and pulls away with a slice on his finger. It's small but it bleeds.
"That's new," the adventurer commented, leaning over to see it. The knight seemed to forget that even a step across the room only activates blades to block him. But he relents and runs pass it, only to be overwhelmed by more blades rapidly emerging until one knocks him off his balance.
"Just toss it!" The adventurer shouted, even wanting to help but he is shackled. The knight gets up, fumbles with the key and tossed it. But the room has better ideas and a thin blade hooks the hole of the key as it stabs the wall, leaving it sliding down to the opposite wall, dangling.
Well, that's not fair. But it's so close to the adventurer, he just needs to grab it-
He jumped as he felt another blade slicing at the back of his cloak again and the pull of the chains felt shorter. He glanced to see the blade hooked through the chains into the wall. It held him farther from his reach. From the key. From the knight-
"Oh, you Son of Bitch!" The adventurer screamed at the chains, his frustration more profound than ever, and he violently pulled at the chains again.
What is this place? The cabins before this were bad, but this one's cruel. It's fighting against the adventurer, and now the knight. Saving him is the right thing to do right now and he needs to do it fast.
But as he stepped forward, the floor shifts and it glides with the knight on it far from the adventurer as the room is quickly filled with blades from every direction.
It happened so fast. The adventurer froze as he sits with his back on the wall. He is crammed with blades, some cutting into his clothing and his skin. Any movement will cut him even more. His eyes darted around to look for his savior. He can't lose him yet, not like this.
He thought for a second that the knight is impaled by blades around him, but he is relieved to see no blood or punctures on him. The blades even... Bend around him.
The knight gasped as he moves his arms away from shielding his face, scraping noises grating into his ears. He survived but he is now trapped.
"What is... Happening?" The knight whimpered as his exposed fingers get cuts from trying to pry away the blades that trapped around his waist in place. This is the worst. They're going to die here if he doesn't get his whole feet on the ground to push himself out of this.
"I think I know what's happening," the adventurer croaked as he shifted his position to look at the knight properly. "Someone is clearly trying to stop me from escaping. And, since you came, now they're trying to stop you from saving me."
The knight stopped his squirming and looked at the adventurer. No, that's impossible- There was no one working in any of those cabins.
"Well- That would imply that there was someone watching us. Someone must be watching me and the others escape and did... Nothing!
So why now? Why did it had to be you? That's not fair for you, is it?"
Ah. So, this is really new for him. The adventurer sighed in disdain, more for the knight. This isn't fair for him, either.
Then he smirked, "Maybe it's because I figured it out. I knew that someone in charge here is planning something- And the cabins you mentioned just confirms that someone is playing on us.
Like some kind of a sick game."
"A game?" The knight clutched on the blades even more. "But I don't want to play a game- I'm just a knight! O-or at least, I am now..."
"Well-" the adventurer choked back. "I'm just a guy in an orstrich carcass, but the key? The blades? No. They want something from me. They want me to do something. And you know what? I'll play along."
The blades slowly slide back where they came from, giving more space for the adventurer to finally stand up and the knight to scramble back on his feet.
"Well, I won't," the knight sighed. "Whatever they are planning, I did not sign up for it. Neither did you. We have to get out of here."
"I am as eager to leave as you are, but it looks like we're not getting out of here without a fight," the adventurer grinned as he crossed his arms.
"It's not a lost cause, yet. Just get the key and toss it to me. It won't be easy but we are not losing to a living house!"
"But I'm nervous," the knight said. "What if more blades come out everytime I come close?"
"That's what they want you to think. Because you have already come so far, now they probably trying to scare you from getting close to rescuing me.
Don't. Let them."
Those three words lit up a spark in the knight. Of course. He has to remember his mission.
Don't let them win and let them keep the adventurer here. Don't let him die here.
"Alright," The knight starts to inch and bend his way around the blades that stayed stuck with his cape wrapped on his shoulders.
"I can do this. I won't leave you."
"That's it, show 'em!" the adventurer, despite being trapped, cheered. "We can beat this stupid basement. I'll even deal with the bastards who put us here. Mark my words."
Wow, that's three prisoners out for revenge already.
The knight scrapes some of his protective armor as he makes his way until he grabbed the key. Using his weight, he pushed his arm on the thin blade down. It bends until it snaps. The key slip onto the knight's hands and then another blade slice pass his cheek. The cabin seemed upset.
The knight tries to proceed but he felt as if his left arm was caught between something. The two blades managed to trap his arm, and unfortunately, this sends the knight into a rapid panic attack. When he tried pulling away, another sliced pass his plumes. They're multiplying as the knight is struggling with his arm and in his mind. The adventurer in turn tries reaching out again, as the knight is holding the key towards him.
"Mate- Stop!" The adventurer cried as the knight snapped back.
Recognizing that he is making it worse, the knight proceeds to toss the key to the adventurer. Just as he is about to catch it, another blade parries it down to the ground. He tries to grab it but the chains is pulled tighter and small blades pops out and back in.
The adventurer decides to use his foot and stomps on it, but the blades trapped him in place. Sure, his boot prevents them from actually hurting him, but now he is desperately pulling his foot free.
"Uhh," the adventurer nervously perks up. "A little help?"
The knight got over his traumatic reminiscing and pulled his arm free to see the adventurer struggling. There's no way he'll make it there in time through these blades. He scrambled down and crawls on the floor under the blades.
As if the room is now realizing how close he is getting, a blade presses on the knight's back to stop him. But the knight's hands grabbed unto the small blades to pull them apart to free the adventurer's boot. With enough wiggle room, the adventurer forcefully slides his foot with the key under it and he reached down to grab it.
Just before the adventurer could unlock the clamp, one last diagonal blade strikes close to his chest and neck. As it grows, it is moving dangerously close to him, hindering his free arm to reach for the key hole.
The adventurer presses back, holding his breath as the blade gets closer to his neck, until the knight grabs onto the blade, bending it as he gets up and pulls it away, cutting into his fingers as adventurer catches his breath and shove the key on the keyhole.
"It's over," he declared through gritted teeth as he unlocks the clamp free and it fell down as all the blades are sheathed back, leaving an empty room once more.
The knight backs up, dazed and sick, looking at the scratches on his armor and the bloody hands, until he is tackled by a laughing adventurer as the knight spun away to regain his balance from the impact.
"We did it! We won!" The adventurer exclaims as he dangles while hugging the knight tight. He hugged back, relieved that it's all over-
All of the sudden, a scraping noise is heard within the walls. It's not over. The two disperse, and as the knight beckons to leave immediately, the adventurer pushes him to the side before another huge blade could slice him.
Instead, as the knight is recovering, he helplessly watched as the adventurer fell on the floor, writhing, screaming and covering his right eye in pain. The blade slashed onto his face.
The knight tries to get up but gasps when he felt a sharp pain shooting up from his left hand to his arm. A blade on the wall impaled his hand, though the metal, fingerless gloves. Adrenaline rises as he tries to pull his hand out but not long before he saw blades from the other wall, aiming for him.
The blades thrust forward until heavy chains are tossed and they fell on the blades, breaking them into pieces before they can reach the terrified knight. He watched as the clamp is then pulled back and he turn to see the adventurer pulling the chains out of the walls.
His right eye might be shut close with a huge scar bleeding down his face, but the anger can be seen in his other eye, his tears, and his breaths. He roared as he swung the chains at the blades attacking him, then using the clamp to punch the bloodied blade that ruined his face.
The adventurer rushes to the knight's side. "Here. Let me-," he smashed the protruding blade so that the knight can slide his injured hand off with a gasp of pain.
"L-Let's get out of here!" The knight regains his strength and gets up with help of the adventurer as they dash for the staircase before the room is filled with blades.
The adventurer raced up ahead of the stairs, smashing every blades popping out and tearing at his cloak with the chains wrapped in his right hand and the clamp on his left. The knight hangs onto his shoulder, cape tightly clutched as everything is pointing at them, stairs shifting and shattering under their feet.
Just as they are about to reach the door, the stairs gave way and they both fell. But the adventurer hooks his clamp onto one protruding blade, sending them swinging and the knight held him tight as he turns on his back to the jagged, metal walls, enduring the painful impact just so the adventurer won't get any more injured.
The adventurer relentlessly climbed the chains until something is forcing itself from the door. Claws. Steel claws.
As soon as it inches a gap, it was swung open by the barbarian above, an arm and a leg wrapped in leaves and wood.
"Grab on!" The survivor beside him is hush but louder as he yelled, as the adventurer grabbed onto the barbarian's hand, his free arm around the knight as they are thrusted upstairs. There is no time to celebrate, as they run out before every blades starts emerging from the basement and into the cabin-
...
The survivor stayed still outside, clutching someone in his arms, as the blades stood still at his back. Okay. He's alive. What about him?
The survivor shifted to see who he is holding... The doctor. For a second, he thought he was dead until he hears his quick breathing. One of his glasses... Cracked. Not from falling. The blade. It almost hit him, the survivor thought. He could've died.
The doctor thought so too. He sighed shakily as he raised to touch his broken left lens. He's... Alive. They hear a grunt and turn to see the barbarian... Pulling himself off of the blades that strucked and slashed at him.
They left a huge gash on his torso and a stab on the right side of the chest. He shouldn't be alive, and yet he is. And he's not worrying.
The barbarian tiredly cackled, "Well, that's not that bad."
They were greeted by sounds of someone celebrating. It's the adventurer, triumphantly jumping around and pointing at the cabin filled with blades that sprouted outside.
"Ha! Yes!" The adventurer jumped as he yelled at the cabin. "Take that, you Bloody Cheaters! Screw you and your master, you sons of a b- Ack!"
Then the adventurer felt a sting of pain on his eye as he groaned in pain. Right. It took a number on him. As the three, despite the barbarian's injuries, rushes to help, the knight drags himself to the kneeling adventurer. He ripped a long strip of his cape and tries to wrap his face, but the doctor said,
"Your hand."
The knight doesn't want to acknowledge it. He doesn't want to look at it. But the wet, metallic pain is hindering him right now.
"I'll take care of it," the survivor gently grabbed the strip while the doctor pulled the knight aside. The survivor wrapped the strip around the adventurer's scar on his face who is both cooperative and idle.
The barbarian knelt down to the adventurer and said, "Oh, you've been trapped there for a while? Now, that is very dangerous prison. You're a strong one."
"Thanks," the adventurer responded blankly. "It's my will to confront the shit out of the game maker around here that kept me inside."
This made the barbarian chuckled. Meanwhile the doctor packed and wrapped leaves on the wound and around the knight's hand, stinging but it's soothing.
"Uhm..," the knight mutters but continues. "Can you please go get the others..? I... Wanna talk to him in private," he cocked his head towards the adventurer.
"Uh," the doctor raised an eyebrow for he really wasn't sure about the three, but knowing two of them are greatly injured, something has to be done.
"Fine. They'd better make themselves useful other that sitting around and do nothing," the doctor huffed but not at the knight. "Don't worry. You'll be fine."
The doctor gestures the survivor and the barbarian to follow him down the path.
The knight sat there in silence as he glanced at the adventurer, tired but relieved that he is free. Injured, though.
"... I'm so sorry."
"Hm? For what? My eye?"
The knight sheepishly scoots over.
"Yeah that. I- I thought we could at least... Leave with a little scratch or something. Not with an injury that could have been avoided," his voice trembled and the pain in his hand did not help. "Not with your face cut off like that! If only I was a little faster and- And-"
"My face is fine," the adventurer shifted himself forward to the sniffling knight. "It won't be that bad for long. You should be worried about your hands..."
He ripped a two pieces of his cloak with his teeth and continues the doctor's work to wrap around both of the knight's hands. They're soft and fuzzy, the knight has to fight the urge to squeeze them.
"Don't feel guilty for me, alright? You're only doing the right thing. And I am..," Silence, and a sigh with a small smile he continues wrapping. "Very grateful for that. Thanks for helping me down there, mate. I mean it, really."
The knight tiredly giggled, even despite the pain, "You're... Welcome. Thanks for saving me."
"Eh, of course. Anything to return the favor."
Something shines at the corner of their eye. A mirror, laying on the ground behind them. That's new. The adventurer curiously reach for it, in which the knight reached for his arm.
"Don't bother. It... Would only disappear when you touch it."
"... And then what?"
"I... Honestly don't know."
The adventurer touched the mirror regardless. Or rather, the ground. There is no mirror. This confused the adventurer greatly. He scanned his surroundings and realized the identical cabins the knight was talking about.
"... What the hell is this place?"
----
The rogue is intrigued but queasy watching the survivor dab a wet fur over the adventurer's open wound on his face. It's an ugly sight.
"Why not just... Let the doctor stitch it up?" The rogue asked. The survivor answered immediately,
"The other is more injured than this one. On his hands no less..."
"It's alright. Just give me few days and I get a hell of a big scar," the adventurer spoke blankly, but almost enthusiastically.
"Alright. If you say so," the rogue put down the make-shift stone bowl of water, barely deep enough hold half of one. "So... The cabin tried to kill you?"
"Bullshit, right?" The adventurer nodded. "I'd call it a torture chamber more than anything, as if being locked up in jail isn't bad enough.
"I couldn't agree more," the survivor casually mentioned, as he begins to wrap the drier strip of cloth around the scar. "I was trapped with an animal who was out to eat me. It was an eternity until I was rescued."
"I'm more astounded that you managed to survive that long," the adventurer chuckled in which the survivor's eyes sparked at that compliment. Knowing a bond is shared the rogue eagerly said,
"You know, I was in an awful cabin too! It's a small space with really big and constricting roots around me, but I did managed to slip out of my chains before the knight came in."
The two blinked. The rogue awkwardly sits there, smiling.
"Oh. How... Uncomfortable, honestly-"
"Okay-" the rogue caught on the sarcasm and waved his hand around. "It's not "deadly", but it's a prison- Of course, I hate it there. I would rather sit in a big, beautiful room like the other guy did-"
"You'll get lonely there, you fool," the slave- the guy in question- piped in from the other side of the nest. For a sad guy, he's quite a party-pooper. With nothing else say, the rogue scoffed,
"Don't you have a guy to mend?"
The slave said nothing and minded back to his business; holding the knight still as the doctor stitched his impaled hand. The rest are wrapped in cloth. The knight wants to watch the doctor's handicraft but he hates seeing the damage it was done to him. It's not just the fact the blade stabbed his hand, it's also the way it held him back, trapping him so he won't get away from his near doom. Just like last time.
"There..," the doctor muttered as he cuts off the string- a strand of the knight's hair- and wraps it up. "I know it hurts a lot but we have to keep it intact and protected- What are you doing?"
The doctor stopped the knight from standing up, so did the slave but only because the doctor did so. Though, he really want it to be over with.
"I need... To go," the knight, as tired and in pain as he is, sighed as he tries to reach for the helmet beside him. He's relentless, isn't he?
"No, you don't-'
"Yes, I do. I can't stay here while there are more-"
"You were literally dying back there- You need to stop-"
"I can't. What if they're in danger like him?"
The adventurer heard it and sighed. He understands the will to rescue but even he can see the knight loosing his strength. The doctor squeeze the knight's hands as he hushed him.
"You're not going back like this. Do you understand?"
The knight went silent. Reluctantly, he nodded. The doctor then said,
"Just rest. You'll save them when you feel better."
And as if on cue, the knight passed out again onto the slave's lap, who yelped. The doctor check the pulse on his neck and sighed,
"See? Just give him time."
"Wha- Why am I the one to hold him?" The slave complained as the doctor stood up. The doctor ruffled his white hair as he walked away,
"To give you something to do for once."
The slave slumps down and pouts. Oh well. He looked at the knight and just idly ruffled his hair. It's actually nice.
The cloaked man is actually the one mending the wounds of the barbarian near the camp. The brute in question is very cooperative, with the pain not as severe despite the size of the damage. The cloaked man just wiped away the blood until nothing is coming out of the beautiful cracks that the edges formed.
The cloaked man was watching the knight struggle and pass out. He can't help but... Hum.
"Oh, look. He's growing desperate. How unfortunate..."
"Get off his back," the stubborn idly spoke. "You can't stop him until he's got everyone. He'll wake up eventually and do this all. Over. Again."
"Yes," the cloaked man nodded. "Hopefully it won't be a detriment in the long run."
That sounded like sarcasm. A prediction. An... Anxiety waiting to happen.
The doctor puts the back of his hand on the adventurer's forehead, warm from the cold and exhaustion.
"What happens now?" The adventurer, eager despite this. The doctor sighed and shook his head as he adjusts his already broken glasses.
"Rest. All of you. You will feel better once you wake up."
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peggingprowl · 1 day
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A gift for @cmofirstaid! Hope you enjoy this as much as do <3
A Helping Hand
Summary: First Aid has been daydreaming about you and your touch. When you walk in on him, you decide to give him a bit of a helping hand.
Tags: oral sex, overstimulation, dacryphilia, x reader, bot!reader, 1300~ words
First Aid bites his lips, stifling a whimper as he drags his servo along his spike. He slowly pumps it, taking his time to feel the texture of his biolights and ridges— all the while imagining it was your servos touching him.
The idea makes him whimper again. Frag. Would you tease him like this, slowly dragging your servo along his spike? Or perhaps you'd like to play with the slit on top, wringing out droplets of transfluid that you'd lick up.
"Ah, fragging Primus—" he moans, gripping his spike hard as he staves off an overload. He didn't want this to be over so quick—
"Need a hand?"
First Aid startles, squeaking in surprise as his facemask slams shut instinctively. Primus above, he wasn't actually expecting you to show up. He knew doing this in his office was a risk, anyone could walk in, but you? Of all mechs? He feels mortified, but his spike still twitches in his servo, betraying is arousal.
"I-I. It's. Frag me. I wasn't expecting any— Haven't you heard of knocking?!" he sputters, still painfully hard and exposed. He knew he should've gone with his valve, he could've closed his panel then, nevermind the inevitable mess!
"Oh, I did. You didn't answer, so I got a bit worried. Color me surprised to see this delicious sight," you purr, "You never did answer, Aid. Do you want a hand?"
He sputters for a moment, processor whirling as he tries to understand that curveball that just slammed into him face first. He's not sure that this isn't a wild processor dream, and he runs a quick diagnostic to make sure.
Yep. He's awake.
He watches you take a step forward. "C'mon now, show me that handsome face again," you crone, reaching a servo out.
He lets his faceplate slide back with a soft clink, mesmerized by your optics. Ever so slowly, you lean in, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. He whines slightly, optics flickering behind his visor as you pull him deeper. He opens his mouth against your insistent glossa, the kiss quickly morphing into something more messy and desperate. Clearly you had been wanting this as much as he has— the thought makes him dizzy.
"Please," he begs breathlessly against your lips, his own grip upon his spike slacken.
Who are you to deny him?
You pull away, his lips swollen and flush from your kisses. How pretty, he looks. Kneeling down in front of him, you pull his slackened servo away from his straining spike and replace with your own.
First Aid's vocalizer hitches the slight touch, hips bucking up. You tut, swirling a finger around the pre-fluid already decorating his spike.
"Look at you, so desperate for my touch. Don't worry baby, I'll take care of you."
And with that, you begin to languidly pump, eagerly watching him for his reactions. You drink in the sighs and twitches and moans as he falls apart under your talented fingers. His servos grasp hard at the chair's arms as you drip a finger into his slit, his head tossing back as he loudly moans.
"That's it baby, make all those pretty noises. Let me know how much you're loving this."
"Ah, Hng— F-frag, please!" He whines, writhing under your touch. Broken moans laced with static pour out of him.
You lean in, taking the tip of his spike inside your mouth.
"AH—!" He cries out, delirious with pleasure. You hum around his spike, savoring the sweet flavor of his transfluid. Swirling your glossa around, you tease at the nodes lining the head, before dipping down into his slit.
He babbles broken pleas above you, and you feel copious amounts of pre-fluid leak from your actions. Seems like you found a sensitive spot. Good to know.
You double down, wanting to pull more of those wonderful sounds out of First Aid. He does not disappoint.
He wails in pleasure as you descend further down his spike, servo pumping in time.
First Aid doesn't know how much more of this he can take— he feels his overload approaching fast.
"I-I'm-! Frag— ah! I'm close!" He chokes out. You hum around his spike, delighted.
He convulses, moaning loudly as overload washes over him. He unloads a gush of transfluid down your throat— and you continue to suck and pump, eager to milk every last drop from him.
His spike gives another few twitches under your ministrations. He moans lowly, panting as he recovers.
You still don't stop.
He shifts under you, whining slightly. And then louder. You still continue.
First Aid thought you were done after he came, but evidently you were not. His vocalizer hitches as you prod his slit with your glossa again.
"Wha— what?" he stutters weakly, head lolling.
You pull off slightly, still slowly pumping away. "I'm not done yet, baby. Just hang on a little more. I know you can handle it. Let me hear you," you murmur.
First Aid only nods, mouth wide open as he pants, charge begining to simmer once more. He loses himself in the swirl of your glossa, letting you bring him back up to that peak once again.
Another hard suck and swirl, and he breaks, moaning weakly as his second overload crashes over him, transfluid bursting once more into your awaiting mouth.
With a slow pop, you pull away
"Good boy," you grin. His spent spike twitches at the compliment.
You give him a moment to recover, his fans blasting after the two back-to-back overloads.
You weren't done with him yet.
With a gentle servo, you tap on his valve panel.
"Huh—?" he says, picking his head up to glace down at you.
You grin up at him."Baby, I said I take care of you. I've treated your spike, but I have yet to see your valve. Open up? Please?"
First Aid contemplates it for a moment. Hng. He just had the best blowjob of his Primus damned life. That glossa on his valve? Would probably kill him. But what a way to go.
His panel slides open, a silent invitation.
His valve is absolutely drenched in lubricant from his past two overloads. The plush white folds gleam, highlighted by his pulsing red nodes. You lick a stripe along one side, gathering that delicious lubricant, letting put a pleased hum as he twitches under you.
You delve into his swollen folds, spurred on by the gasps and moans he gives. Digging your glossa inside of him, you trace every nook and cranny you can reach. Your servos grip tightly upon his thighs, stabilizing yourself. You flick your tongue to his bright node, swirling around it before gently sucking.
A loud, broken wail escapes First Aid. It was so much. He bucks his hips at the overstimulation, it was still so soon after his previous two overloads— and yet a other was coming at him like a freight train.
Another suck to his node. First Aid feels tears gathering in his optics. Frag. He's so close.
He lets out a sob as you continue, your vice-like grip not letting him pull away from the onslaught of your glossa upon his folds. Tears trickle down his cheeks, mixing with the drool that clings to his messy, flushed face. He grinds down, chasing the overwhelming pleasure.
First Aid tosses his head back, spasming as overload once more overtakes him. An absolute flood of lubricant squirts out of him, drenching your face and his thighs as he cries and whines, mouth agape.
You pull away, futilely wiping your face as he crumples into his chair.
....He's probably going to need a new chair. This one is absolutely soaked in his transfluid and lubricants.
Standing up, you cradle his limp head with your servo, giving him a gentle kiss. His mouth still open, he whimpers at the taste of his own lubricants.
"Good job, baby," you whisper, "Let me know if you ever need another hand."
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Text
Thrills of the Heart
Abby loves you so much. Don't you forget it.
18+ only. Violence, gore, sexual themes.
If you want a part two, this is one I'd be more than happy to expand upon. Otherwise, thank you so much for reading, and I'll catch you on the next one!
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Two months have passed since Isaac assigned you a mission with an unfamiliar squad, taking you over eight hundred miles away from the FOB. Two months since that dreadful day when you woke up alone on the damp carpet of an abandoned house, rainwater dripping through the decaying ceiling. With only the weight of your backpack and the cold metal of your rifle to keep you company, there was no denying the grim events that transpired.
You should’ve seen it coming, really.
Abby had grown disillusioned with the WLF long before you came into her life. The moment you stepped into the scene, it became apparent to anyone with a modicum of intelligence that Isaac’s control over Abby was faltering, as your relationship with her opened her eyes to the possibility of a different future.
The yearning to be more than a cold-blooded killer consumed her, and under the influence of your love, she learned to navigate life with a tender hand. Consequently, using those very same hands that wrung pleasure from you only to turn around and inflict pain became an agonizing dilemma.
Were you taken aback when the leader of the WLF sent you away, hoping you would either suffer a terrible fate or start a new life elsewhere? Not in the slightest. It had been a long time coming. Each assignment intended to create distance between you and Abby, and every attempt to exert control over her through the influence of others sent a warning arrow straight through your gut.
However, for Abby to leave the family she had painstakingly built after losing everything with The Fireflies couldn’t happen overnight. Isaac discovered a vulnerability and subjugated it, but your resilient spirit is immune to his fragile masculinity and the dangers it brings.
It would take a lot more than navigating through unfamiliar terrain to rattle you. From your perspective, Isaac has only ever been a scheming, heartless tyrant, unworthy of another millisecond of your service.
But Abby—well, that’s another story altogether.
When she finds out Isaac made the order to leave her girl behind, she will scorch the earth, reducing everything above it to a plateau of crumpled ruins.
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“Wake up,” Abby growls, placing the icy barrel of her pistol against Isaac’s temple.
Evidently, not his preferred way to be roused from sleep.
The guards stationed along the path to his apartment are stagnant phantoms decorating the cement, their hollow, battered hulls against the inky corridor a reminder of what Isaac created. Upon casting a brief gaze at the open door, he knows there’s no chance of rescue.  
“Put it down,” Isaac orders. “Now.”
“I know she’s alive,” Abby says, her potent, hushed tone a veiled threat. “Where is she, Isaac?”
Refusing to let him rise, she drives the gun harder into his flesh. In the empty room, his ragged breaths resonate as she crouches ominously at his bedside.
“Think this through Abigail,” he says, the authority in his tone slipping. “You’re being reckless.”
“Tell me where she is.”
Tension ripples through his arms, transforming them into menacing cords, as his fists clench tightly above the blankets. Having obtained the coordinates from a crew member who deserted you, she already knows the answer.
She lingers, determined to witness the flicker of regret in his eyes, a painful acknowledgment of his betrayal.
“What is your objective here?” Isaac asks. “Because this will not end well for you. Fall in line and we will deal with this before you make a mistake you cannot come back from.”
“That’s the problem,” Abby says, witnessing Isaac’s hands tremble for the first time as she leans in. “I’m not in the mood to cooperate anymore. See, it really pisses me off when people borrow my things and don’t bring them back.”
Malice coats Isaac’s chin like venom, teeth bared behind a curled, wrathful lip.
“My sentiment exactly,” he drawls.
Abby cocks her gun, exhaling a sharp breath as she seethes into his ear.
“I don’t belong to you.”
“There will be a target on your back,” he says. “The minute you walk out of here.”
“It’s nice to have someone who’s always got your six, isn’t it?” Abby whispers. “You shouldn’t have taken her from me, Isaac.”
Stepping away, she stands with a sense of defiance, eyes burning with years of manipulation and abuse by the man who exploited her for his military agenda.
Lifting her firearm, she prepares to release the heavy burden inside her heart.
“Do it then,” he spits.
It is the last order she will ever carry out for him.
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Against the skyline, the weathered timbers of a rollercoaster, partially collapsed and creaking in the wind, draw you nearer. The once impressive structure is truly engrossing, with its faded burgundy cars hanging precariously from the skeletal remains.
It’s a pity that time has snatched away the chance for you to experience the rush, hands in the air at the precipice of a one-hundred-foot drop.
You’ve seen movies with Abby that depicted amusement parks in their prime, a bustling wonderland of flashing lights, cotton candy and thrill-seeking adventure.
Tough as that woman may be, she is surprisingly susceptible to motion sickness, with a fierce aversion to the feeling of spinning without actually moving. A quirk you discovered back at the stadium, after a few too many turns on the rusted merry-go-round.
Now, as you stand before it, the nostalgic landscape bears the scars of nature and disease, offering a new vantage point on facing your fears. Filled to the brim with resentment and buffeted by wind, you make your way through the haunted grounds.
Trained in the art of stick fighting, you spot a fallen circus tent, instinctively repurposing the poles as tools of self defence. With strategic positioning and fastidious footwork, you effortlessly sidestep and strike your way through every fungal-rotted ghoul until you’re fueled by the energy of each meticulous hit.
Breathless, with bloodied corpses scattered around you in putrid heaps, you let your weapon drop, clattering into the rubble. The image transports you back to the day you met Abby.
You were honing your battle skills in a meadow outside the walls, so absorbed in your movements and the gentle flutter of monarch butterflies passing by that you didn’t notice she had been silently watching you.
It’s an unforgettable memory, the way her broad shoulders rippled in the afternoon sun as she crossed her freckled arms. Her sturdy body leaned against the mossy old oak tree, hip jutting out as her pale blue eyes surveyed you with a curious intensity.
She had you captivated from the very start.
“So, you’re the one who keeps swiping all the broomsticks.”
There was a glimmer in her eyes when she startled you. The situation swiftly awakened your mischievous side, eager to seize the opportunity to play.
Rolling the stick in your palms, you responded to her accusation with a casual shrug.
“It’s the only part that matters.”
“Try sweeping with only the head,” she smirked. “Or is cleaning beneath you?”
You’d occasionally stolen glances at Abby while she lifted weights at the gym, and she had taken notice more than once. The last time you lingered a little too long, she surprised you with a flirtatious flick of her eyebrows. It wasn’t entirely shocking that she followed you outside. Still, her gaze turned you hot from the inside out.
“Are you going to snitch?” you asked.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Abby said with a warm laugh. “But only if you tell me how the hell you do that.”
“If you can grab it from me, I’ll show you.”
The instant you challenged her, she was a blazing firework, radiating momentum and guile. Although it would take her time and dedication to master stealth, her natural affinity for combat gave her an advantage.
If, by the end of the session, the overwhelming excitement left both of you stripped bare, drenched in sweat—heavy, gasping breaths disappearing into the tall grass as your nimble fingers eagerly explored each other, it was a spectacle meant only for the birds.
As you try to shake the memory away, a deep longing for her settles within you.
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ladytessa74 · 18 hours
Note
hi tessa!! in reference to this post
CAN WE BE FRIENDS PLS?
okay for questions:
since you don't watch OG 911, how did you stumble upon lone star?
if you could write one episode of season 5, what would it include?
what's your favorite pastime/hobby outside of fandom?
i was about to ask you what your favorite season is, then i remembered you live in the land where its warm all year around haha
what's your favorite food? do you like to cook?
i know you said you're hoping to get a dog in the future, ARE YOU A DOG PERSON? plus, do you have a certain breed in mind or just gonna wing it? lol
okay this is probably way more than you wanted lol but notice how i didnt say the thing!
Rachel you 'didn't say the thing' so loud that you may as well have SAID IT. ok so you are in jail now and who says there's no thought police?? i am the thought police.
👮🏽‍♀️
since you don't watch OG 911, how did you stumble upon lone star?
Actually I followed some people over from the old guard fandom! I was very taken with Joe and Nicky, my favorite immortal grandpas.
I loved that fandom and it has so many talented writers but I think they had a lot of problems with racism? Given Joe / Yusuf is a Middle Eastern man and Nicky is Italian. And people were very defensive. I was very late to this fandom so I didn't see any of the racism myself, but I only saw people being (maybe rightfully so) defensive and though I agreed with everything they were saying (I am a WOC myself, very VERY familiar with casual and non casual racism), I had a lot of negative/angry posts on my dash, so I can't say I felt very welcome and trailed off after a while
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Then suddenly came across TK & Carlos kissing on my dash. At first I didn't take any notice, I just thought they were very cute. Then I think I saw a video of the proposal + few more gifs and i was immediately like 😭😭😭😭 This was at the end of season 3. Then I went back and watched from the beginning and it was so good and I was hooked!
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if you could write one episode of season 5, what would it include?
ONLY ONE??!! Listen I want the writers to make How I linger completely from top to bottom, however many episodes it takes! This was my basic wishlist for S5 for Carlos' father's death arc, so it could be spread over 2-3 episodes. TIM. CALL ME. IT'S NOT TOO LATE.
Other than that, I want to write Halloween episode 🥺 TK & Carlos will host a Halloween party in their apartment. They will bicker about costumes and finally decide to go as each other, no matter now nauseatingly cute it is! Lou II gets a spiderman costume 🤭 Carlos refuses to put it on him, so TK does it, but Lou II gets free and wreaks havoc on the apartment, leaping into punch bowls, running into peoples' clothes and eating things that make him sick so now they have to go find a vet in the middle of the night. They stumble on some emergency in the street, maybe a lost kid. Kid reunited, Lou II fine, guests gone. TK & Carlos have sex for 48 hours straight.
Paul hates Halloween and won't talk about it. Everyone walks on eggshells around him. They say 'costume party' as Carlos won't let anyone say 'Halloween' lest it upset his friend. Everyone thinks it has to do with a major trauma from his childhood. In the end it's revealed that when he was taken trick or treating as a child, he came across a very realistic witch and screamed and punched her in the knee and it was actually his English teacher.
what's your favorite pastime/hobby outside of fandom?
Oh, writing? 👀 I'm working on an original fiction book 👀 I think it's a big risk because it's supposed to be humorous but I'll try anyway! I hope it's funny. I'm still writing it.
And also I have taken up crochet again recently 🥰
i was about to ask you what your favorite season is, then i remembered you live in the land where its warm all year around haha
LA?!?@ It's cold here during the winters! The nights dip to 55 😔 And it's been raining recently 😔
ok don't slap me rachel 🤭
My favorite season is fall! Also summer for the fruits 🥰 especially mangoes 🥭🥭🥭🥭🥭🥭
what's your favorite food? do you like to cook?
I love cooking. I love Indian food the most, closely followed by Mexican, Italian.
i know you said you're hoping to get a dog in the future, ARE YOU A DOG PERSON? plus, do you have a certain breed in mind or just gonna wing it? lol
I AM. I love dogs so much. 🐶 I'm going to get a Bernedoodle! A Buttercup doggie 🤭 I'm on this waitlist, so I'm not sure exactly when, but soon. Sooon!!
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