#it just dawned on me that this is why at least one of my OCs exists

[isfjmel-phleg]

&

[hana-no-seiiki]

☁️ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ FIVE STAGES OF YANDERE ࿐: IDOL EDITION

“ 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐃. “

⟣┄─ ˑ 𝐈. ✧ yandere! idol! oc (jisoo han) x superfan/manager! reader

✧ tw/cw: yandere themes, reader is also yandere at the start, mentions of anxiety and self harm, honestly idol life is its own tw

HAPPY HANA NO SEIIKI ANNIVERSARY YA’LL!!

[ series masterlist ]

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE ONE. ✧ DENIAL

“Oh gosh (oh gosh) this is so crazy. I’ve fallen in love again.

I trip so easily.

Adore new things, they sparkle.”

“Why are you so obsessed with him?”

“Dunno, just am.”

Your entire life revolved around Yesterday’s Dawn’s ace, Eve. The idol who had been in everyone’s lips. Whose name had been heard throughout nations you’ve never even heard of.

He was your sun, the reason you had the energy to wake up every single day, the light of your life.

Every waking moment you spent it either thinking of him or offering your services for name.

It was normal for you to spend hours looking at his schedule, knowing where he was, being around him most times, or staring at media of him.

Somehow, you were able to land a job as his manager.

You were finally closer to your god.

But you swiftly find out that no man should be likened to one for only disappointment can be found in such a path.

Eve was a lot more . . . burnt out than you expected. A lot less passionate and energetic than he was in camera if not irritable.

It was normal for him to harass workers when they didn’t meet a standard he imposed, as such, after the first few weeks of your employment everyone that you were with have already been fired, quit, and/or paid to keep their silence on the matter.

Yet your feelings for him only stayed; as your employment with the company. Your meticulous and proactive nature as a fan site owner allowed you to take much of the workload he threw at you.

The little admiration you have left for the man kept you standing.

And if only you were a little less stressed you’d notice his scarlet eyes providing stares of amusement, bewilderment, and growing affection.

You never complained (at least, in a place where he could hear you).

Whenever he asked for impossible items or schedules you’ll simply grin and work things out in your little way.

You adjusted to his turbulent temperament as quickly as an experienced pilot in a stormy sky, a sailor of uncharted, dangerous waters.

You were brilliant. Reminiscent of his times as a trainee.

Bit by bit he started lessening your workload. Allowing you to rest. Hell, even giving you his coffee if he didn’t want it. He never gives away his coffee.

You acquiesced to many of his whims but were never a pushover. Always doing your job perfectly. Keeping him in line.

He would have fallen for you already, had he not been in love with someone else.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE TWO. ✧ ANGER

“Peek-a-boo! It’s only love when my heart quivers.

All my friends yell at me, they say I have a problem.

I’m fine fine fine fine fine fine!”

“ For this comeback period, [L/N] will be assigned to Hayate instead. Eve will have his senior’s manager work with him instead.”

“Understood.”

You were assigned to another member around Spring.

Yesterday Dawn’s most hectic time of the year aside from fall as the group’s concept was as the name suggested, focused more on nostalgia and times of youth.

You were relieved.

You never thought you would have been able to say that after being separated from Eve, but now it was the only thing you had on your mind.

No more late night calls about wanting coffee but throwing the leftovers at you the moment he was sick of the taste, no more work being thrown at you and taken away at random moments, no more working around his schedule so that he’ll have time to meet that dear senior of his in private.

You were free.

Hayate was known to be the harsher one in the fandom, but much like Eve his image was a bit different from his actual self.

Sure he was demanding, but he was fair. He wasn’t controlled by whims and impulse. You were finally able to do your job properly til the end, and you didn’t always feel a judging stare from him like Jisoo would always throw at you.

You were finally able to smile.

However, you see, being a manager for another member did not mean you would completely be free of your original client.

Hayate and Eve worked quite closely, and as such, you’d often help with Jisoo’s requests even if you weren’t obligated to.

Eve immediately saw the change in you.

You were, a lot more bright. Less haggard. Your voice less hoarse. Relaxed.

You were already getting along better with his group member than you ever did with him.

Eve wasn’t really the type to show his anger actively. He was always more, passive.

The senior he was head over heels for was slowly forgotten as he’d spent countless of hours pouring his feelings into his music. What was supposed to be a bittersweet spring album turned out to be one of sour regret and frustration.

Of course, it was still a hit. It even scored him a collaboration with the senior he oh so wanted to have their eyes on him. But all he could think of as he went to bed early in the morning was the way you’d laugh whenever Hayate spoke to you.

Hmph, the guy wasn’t even funny.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE THREE. ✧ BARGAINING

“Hey you, do you wanna play a game? I already know what you want.

Close your eyes and count to 10. Don’t matter anyways

Cause I am going to find you.”

“Did you hear? Jisoo got his first scandal. Apparently he bullied a bunch of students during high-school.”

“Wasn’t he . . . homeschooled?”

Causing scandals was easy. Dealing with scandals was not.

All Eve had to do was talk to some people, had a few pictures edited and voila, chaos.

It was amusing really, his company superiors would ply him with reassurances and sweet words; telling him that everything will be fine and dealt with while his pr managers dropped down like flies trying to prevent the flames of hatred from spreading too far.

All of them, hopelessly unaware.

All but his stupid senior.

“Why are you doing this now, Ji?”

They always looked down at him almost. Like he was a petulant child that needed to be coddled or scolded depending on their mood.

“We should focus on the track.”

And like he expected, you were brought right back to him. As you should be.

The heads figured out that you were the only one capable of handling the shitstorm without falling into the hands of alcohol or other substances in grief.

And as they expected you did.

After all, you had a timeline of his entire life in a canva document. Even if it was only mentioned once in a concert interview before they went famous. You were an Eve superfan.

All you did was confirm the fact that Jisoo got homeschooled by contacting his parents and teachers, and the rest was easy. You even reactivated your fansite for such an occasion.

If only you hadn’t.

Maybe then Jisoo wouldn’t have a definite reason to pursue you.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE FOUR. ✧ DEPRESSION

“You’ll never get this concept, you might as well forget it

Just play again, bet it all, roll the dice

BLANCA”

Eve thought he was doing well in terms of romancing you.

Ever since he found out about your fansite instead of feeling disgust and horror he felt . . . great, amazing even. A high the stage could never give him.

Of course, you two were destined.

It was only his duty to protect you as your partner, to spoil you, dote on you.

Even if you don’t realize your intertwined fates yet.

. . .

Eve always hovered over you.

Usually managers took shifts with watching over the idols. Half of your time was supposed to be spent planning rather than overseeing his activities.

Yet you seemed to have a never ending babysitting responsibility.

Your past self would have committed several war crimes for the sake of this opportunity. But after a year or so under his ‘care’ you found yourself slowly veering off into the type of insanity you didn’t like falling in.

You felt a bit like Andy from the original Devil Wears Prada book, only that your resentment simmered slowly. Forming into a hideous red sludge of exasperation whenever he randomly wanted to take a vacation. Forcing only you to come with him. Which meant an even bigger workload, and even more people to talk to for flights, schedule conflicts, reservations and all that.

You snapped.

It was a calm afternoon.

The sun was burning you alive as Eve insisted you two would go on a ‘beach date’ for some summer fun.

He shoved a drink in your hand.

And you just broke down.

Tears fell from your eyes, your breath shallow.

You asked him if this amused him. If your suffering was funny to him. If making you fall over just to get his demands on time made him feel fulfilled as a person.

And before he could answer you ran.

A week after that your schedule was finally normal.

Eve kept his distance. Not just from you but from everyone.

You knew of his anxiety attacks and depression before. But seeing those up close and personal scared you.

Things only get worse from here.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE FIVE. ✧ ACCEPTANCE

“So it’s too late you’re in the game now. If you keep up might not lose it.

The jungle gym of fun, like hell yeah

Makin the moon fall down down down.”

Eve spent most of his ‘hiatus’ watching your posts of him. Edits, fanfictions, photography, fancams.

Of course, it wasn’t to see himself perform again. He already did that on a regular basis to make sure he kept himself up to the standards of an idol.

It was to see your captions.

Your fanatic raving made him feel . . . loved.

Your previous thoughts on his performances made him feel complete. Like he found a missing piece of a puzzle he kept trying to put something else to fill it in.

Another part of his hiatus was spent preparing for his graduation. The termination of his contract.

It was clear you didn’t love him as an idol anymore. It was his fault really. He couldn’t see how he was hurting you with his work and desires.

If there was another thing he can thank his idol work for was the amount of money he had saved.

Now, he had a new home built far away from civilization. It was completely soundproof. The bed he ordered was custom made, tailored to your preferences this time rather than his. Food stocked to the nines. A few instruments here and there so he could compose even while retired.

He can always make a new song, a new life for you two to enjoy together.

“My voice, my body, my soul. It had always been yours. I just didn’t realize it.”

✧ [AUTHOR’S NOTE]:

For more EVE content check out the #hns.eve tag 🩵

Lyrics are a mix of translations from the og song and Mitch Joseph’s cover.

OFFICIAL EVE CHARACTER AI

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2024

[la-petite-lapin]

Double the Love | Part One

Double the Love masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 1.2k Series warnings (may update between chapters): 18+, Minors DNI, angst, death, mentions of violence, injury description, eventual explicit sexual content, polyamory, M/M/F, FMC is bad at feelings

How it all started

I wake up to the first knock.

The apartment is warm, despite the fact that it's the second month into winter, and quiet. Peaceful, even. Winnie is probably already at work. The café doesn't need me for at least another hour.

I turn my head to look at the clock on the nightstand. 8 a.m. I can't think of a single reason why someone would be knocking here so early, so I roll over and try to go back to sleep, thinking that I might've just imagined it. Last night was a long one. I couldn't fall asleep, so I stayed awake watching endless reruns of Friends until - at 3 a.m. - I finally knocked out.

It's times like these, when the insomnia kicks in and I feel completely alone, when I can't wait for Alex to be home.

Alex, my heroic older brother. The SAS soldier always on some mission or other to save the world. He's on another top secret op at the moment, but last time we spoke he said that it looked like they'd be home at the end of the month. The new unit he's been assigned to have been keeping him occupied. He couldn't tell me much on the call, but it sounds like they've welcomed him into the fold with open arms, just like all the other units he's worked with in the past. That and he's still worried about me - something that he's been in a perpetual state of since the dawn of time.

Hopefully he'll be home soon though.

Just as my eyes start to close, there's another knock at the door. This one's more persistent.

Definitely not in my imagination.

I throw the covers to the side, adjusting the hem of the heavy knitted sweater I fell asleep in to make sure that it's people-appropriate, and stepping into my slippers as I make a beeline for the door. I drag my feet out of my bedroom and down the hallway towards the front door.

When I open it, my heart drops into the pit of my stomach.

There's a tall man with light brown hair and a beanie standing out in the hallway. His dark eyes are tired but kind, a thick scruffy beard covering his jawline as he stands there, hands behind his back, feet shoulder-width apart. He takes one look at my slight frame, half-hidden behind the door and closes his eyes, shaking his head with a quiet, "Bloody fucking hell."

I tilt my head to one side, confused. I'm just about to ask him if I know him when he says, "Are you Talia Keller? Alex's sister?"

Just like that, my heart starts thundering inside my ribcage. I reach out to put a hand on the doorframe, knowing that it's all I can do to stop my knees from buckling.

The stranger on my doorstep meets my eyes once again and I can see it.

"Please...no-"

He shakes his head, those kind eyes refusing to shy away from my tear-filled gaze. "It is with deep regret and my upmost sympathy that I am here to inform you of the death of your brother, Operations Officer Alex Keller. He died on active duty, contributing to a rescue mission that, because of his sacrifice, saved a lot of lives." I choke on a sob. "I am so very sorry for your loss."

My vision blurs and the sound that leaves my mouth is horrible. It's a sob, so loud and violent that I almost can't believe I made it. "No," I whimper.

"May I come inside?" the stranger asks, nodding past me at the empty apartment. His hands aren't behind his back now. They're in front of him, palms open like he's placating a wounded animal.

My own sobbing eclipses any other noise in the hallway as I take a few shaky steps back, giving him access to the doorway. He walks inside slowly, like he's giving me time to take the unspoken invitation back. I don't.

I wrap my arms around myself, trying to keep myself from falling apart. But my brother is dead. My sweet, perfect brother who I'll never see again.

"I- oh god, I'm going to be sick," I manage to choke out, stumbling back until I hit the side of my armchair.

The stranger swoops in then, gently easing me down onto the sofa. I shouldn't let him - shouldn't have let this man into my home. He could be anyone. But he spoke about Alex with the reverence of someone who knew him personally. He must of to be here now, telling me this awful, fucked up news.

I tip forward, my head finding my hands as I cradle myself, my whole body shaking with the effort of not crumbling to the ground.

Alex was all I had left. We were orphans: each other's only living relatives. Now I'm alone.

"Is there anyone I could call for you?" the man asks, his gravelly voice even softer than it was to begin with. I hate his sympathy with a passion, but I don't have the energy to call him on it. "You shouldn't be alone at a time like this. Alex told me that the two of you were very close."

The words bring a fresh wave of pain ripping straight through my heart.

His question reminds me of Winnie. She's already made enough sacrifices for me; I can't pull her away from her work. I don't know what to do. There's no one else I can call. It was Alex and Winnie. Winnie and Alex. No one else.

"Alex was... he was all I had." The words both sound and feel pathetic as they leave my mouth. I lift my head and see that he's watching me, dark eyes far from judgemental. "I can't- I don't know what..."

"Look," he says softly, one large paw of a hand coming to rest on my upper arm, his warmth radiating through the thick cable-knit. "Take a deep breath for me. He wouldn't want this for you."

We sit there for a while as I calm myself down, getting through the worst of hyperventilating. Slowly, the tears come to a weak ebb. A numbness fills me; a disbelief that he's truly gone.

"I know that this is probably the last thing on your mind right now, but we had him cremated. It was written in his file that that's what he wanted. We'll send the ashes and his dog tags to you as per his request." He shifts in the armchair. I can't help but notice just how haunted he looks as he meets my gaze. "My name is Captain Price, but you can call me John. I was your brother's unit commander. You might not want to talk to me right now - might blame me even - and I understand that, but I'll leave my personal phone number here with you. If you ever need anything, anything at all, please call me."

I nod softly, rubbing my knuckles along the undersides of my eyes. "Thank you, John."

He nods once then stands up, the muscles of his thighs straining against the sandy-khaki material of his cargos. Instead of heading straight for the door, he walks across to the desk, opening Winnie's smiley face notepad and writing a number down on the first blank page. His number.

I don't look up when he leaves. The door closes with a soft click and then - just like Alex - he's gone.

a/n: hey guys! hope y'all liked part one. don't worry - you'll meet the guys very soon... sorry if this part was a little bit boring, just want to set the scene before all the good stuff happens 🙃 - see ya soon, lapetitelapin

[thewinterpillarhashira]

I'm back from the dead with no quality at all creations!‼️😘

someone better take ALL my drawing apps away from me or else I'll be making a whole ass summoning ritual.

"why are you like thi--" please don't ask. I don't know why either 😔

I swear I'll be drawing something sane soon...I just needa do thingz to keep me from losing my remaining brain cells.

on a sidenote; no, I don't hate akari. I very much love her actually! so much so that I'm willing to kill her off at any given moment<3

the ocs were not randomised. they're just my cherished 6 cuz they were my first moots;

@muitsuri ily, no questions asked. (precisely the reason why her and riri has the same linear color LMAOOO) 💕

@axolotl321 I ENJOYED DRAWING UR OC. I love the simplicity 💕

@tokito-dulya20 ur oc. I. love. ur. oc. BUT I DONT THINK I GOT THE DESIGN RIGHT..IM SO SORRY 😭

@silliestsakura urs had me the most conflicted, to say the least..i BALLED when I realized that the sketch from ur oc's school au didn't have a colour palette. the jawdrop dawned on me when it was too late and there was no more backing down..

@kiyokatokito AUAGAHAGA I WASNT SURE WHAT THE CURRENT COLORING WAS SUPPOSED TO BE CUZ THE OFFICIAL DESIGN HADNT BEEN RELEASED YET FOR AS FAR AS IM AWARE BUT--i just went f it and based it off @tokito-dulya20's artwork..

@cloudymistedskies I love mari, but I am NEVER drawing clouds ever again..(that's an exaggeration ofc, just for u I will)

yes, I drew all of this... monstrosity.

oh, and the reference used? .. i’m pretty sure that joke is well known, isn’t it? that one grave pic w a bunch of shtheads—

whoever would steal this? it's goofy as hell 😭

[mamirhodessxox]

I hate you more (Part 3)

Mafia!Cody Rhodes x Fem OC!Mafia Reader

(Sasha Francesca Ricci)

Enemies to lovers trope

Credits to @alyyaanna for helping me come up w the storyline because I had like 3 different mental breakdowns trying to figure out what to do

Storyline: Sasha was born into a world of darkness and fear, Despite the harsh circumstances she was out in she managed to drag herself into finding love at a young age especially when she least expected it but unfortunately not all love stories are fairytales, Sasha resented the man who once brought her love in her life just to leave and break her heart while having the audacity to invade her life many years once again and give her conflict of love and war on how she was to overcome the feelings she feared while trying to focus on her job with him being so close and invasive to her.

Contents: Smut in future chapters, Knife Play, Choking kink, Degradation kink, Praising Kink, Alcohol, Smoking, Violence, Mentions of m1rder, drug dealing, Fluff, Angst, Marijuana, Shotgun, Shrooms, Cody & Sasha slutting each other out, Blood Kink.

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

Story inspired playlist

Sasha sighed groggily as her mother Barbra had everyone meet in one of the lounge rooms, Cody stood in a corner with his arms folded over each other right after he alerted her the moment she was awake of Roman planting cameras in her daughters room. Sasha hadn’t had an idea yet & was quite confused as to why Cody made her get up at 7:30 in the morning along with everyone else “Is there a reason why You woke me up in the butt fuck of dawn for this shit?” Barbra gave her a look while Seth sighed and sat down somewhere half asleep while he & Sasha’s mother began talking “I’m sure your all exhausted, clearly, but I would like to let you all know that Cody has brought it to my attention that Roman had been caught hiding cameras in Sasha’s bedroom. Now I cannot put this family, This team, on the line & I absolutely refuse for everything to go to shit by a man. Later today you will all be put into pairs to search around the house to make sure he hadn’t placed anything else around. Starting in the afternoon.” Sasha raised a brow & looked over at Cody Who stared back at her before she turned around on her heel & made her way upstairs.

She stared at her room seeing the broken camera shattered onto her floor followed by Romans bloody chain on her desk, Cody followed behind leaning against the door frame while she picked it up & looked up at him sensing his presence “Look at you getting all protective over me. Got a crush?” He rolled his eyes “Don’t start we were doing so good.” She tilted her head & stared at him “So good on what? We tolerating your mere existence?” “Fuck you Sasha I let you sleep in my bed” She smirked “Did you let me sleep in your bed or did you want me to sleep in your bed?” Cody scowled before turning and walking off leaving her alone while she held the necklace before walking out of her room to throw away the piece of jewelry.

She watched it fall into the trashcan that sat in the kitchen before going back into her room to put on a swim suit & relax out by the pool. Cody watched from his window as she laid on the pool chairs rubbing in sunscreen into her thighs and stomach, she felt as if she was being watched & stopped for a moment until looking at Cody’s bedroom window seeing him stand there while she smirked waving her fingers at him in a taunting manner before Randy went over to her.

“I need you to come see something. Right now.” Sasha glared looking away from Cody’s window & lifted her sunglasses “Did Seth die?” “No.” “Break his neck?” “No..” “Then I don’t see why I need to give up my personal Sasha me time.” Randy glared “It involves your mother now get your ass up.” She groaned and swung her legs onto the ground dramatically and got up to follow wherever Randy was taking her & soon saw an entrance to a basement that she never knew about that Randy already went through “Okay?? So what it’s underground storage, ooo so scary.” Randy glared and smacked the back of her head before dragging her down there letting her see what was in the basement causing her to furrow her eyebrows

“The fuck?” “Exactly.” She walked around the underground room seeing various pictures of Barbra & her father, court files, mugshots, death certificates of what seemed to be the people they “handled” back in the day following with various Crime scene evidence that was stolen such as weapons, clothing, weapons & more. Sasha stood there and then turned towards Randy “So what do you want me to do about it? This is to be expected.” Randy glared and crossed his arms “Your not pissed she hid this from us?” Sasha shrugged

“I mean what do you want me to do? Half of this shit was from the 80’s it’s not my problem to deal with.” Randy sighed before shaking his head “You & Seth are fucking stupid I swear to god.” She smiled “You love us enough to stay this committed to the family.” She teased before walking out of the basement back outside to the pool until Seth & Cody stopped her from lying back down while Seth started talking “Mom’s going out of town for business tonight & told us we need to get some sort of information out of this drug dealer, Rául González, He has association with Roman & we could find out what we need to know as to why Roman was planting cameras, I know exactly what we can do.” “Kindap him?” Cody suggests “Throw a party.” Seth blurted out while Sasha stood there glaring “Your like 28 what the fu-“ Sasha huffed out while holding up a hand “Seth didn’t have a Social life for awhile just let him throw the fucking party.” Cody crossed his arms over his chest and turned his attention over to Sasha “How are we gonna throw a fucking Party when Randy won’t let it happen? He’s like a guard dog.” “I can distract him.” Marianna said as she came out of nowhere “Fuck your creepy.” Seth shrieked while Sasha grinned “Marianna you don’t need to do all of tha-“ “He’s hot so why not?” Cody widened his eyes a bit and looked over at Sasha as she looked over at him before Seth randomly made the decision “Fuck it. Distract Randy.”

🖤🍒🖤🍒🖤🍒🖤🍒🖤🍒🖤🍒🖤🍒🖤

Sasha stood as she watched Seth & Cody carry in a variety of drugs into the house for this event such as, Marijuana, Shrooms, Ecstasy, Acid & more. Marianna walked into Barbra’s office where Randy would be sitting in organizing files & looked up at her “Yes?” She smiled innocently and sat on top of the desk “Watcha working on?” He quirked up an eyebrow “What’s it to you Marianna?” She shrugged before hopping off and walking over to behind the desk to sit herself on his lap “Just curious.” She shrugged her shoulder while he cleared his throat nervously. Soon occupying his attention to the attractive woman giving him her attention.

Meanwhile music started surrounding the house & Guests started welcoming themselves in real fast, Athena stood in a corner watching it go down while Cody approached Sasha in the kitchen with a tiny bag of weed wiggling his eyebrows while she smiled patting his chest and strutting off to say hello to one of her old friend Rhea who was known to be the businesses’ major negotiator when it came to Barbra making business deals & Drug sales, Rhea smiled as she kissed Sasha’s cheek “Long time no see Sash! I can’t believe how long It’s been since I’ve seen you.” She smiled while Sasha grinned “Only a few months, But i hear you’re still going strong on some of our deals, I was wondering when I would get to see you.” Rhea grinned as she noticed Cody staring them down “You two again?” Sasha grew a confused expression looking over into Cody’s direction before looking back at Rhea “Nothings happening, yet.” Rhea hummed nodding as her eyes diverted towards Sasha’s lips and grew a slight smirk “I must add that you look stunning tonight, Sash.” She smiled at Rhea compliment & looked over at Cody & back at Rhea before clinking her glass against Rhea’s and walking off to get something to drink in which Cody would follow her.

“You have a staring problem.” Sasha added as she poured herself a drink as Cody leaned against the counter taking a hit off of a joint he had rolled somehow while Rhea & Sasha were interacting “Can’t help it when the person I hate so much is everywhere I turn.” Sasha eyed his joint & he held it up for her to try but she shook her head “I hate joints. Bad aftertaste.” He smirked and moved closer towards Sasha & pressed his lips against hers before blowing the smoke into her mouth while she inhaled and blew the smoke back out after he gave her a shotgun for the first time in years.

“How’s that instead?” Sasha shrugged before taking a sip of her drink “Keep it up, you’ll end up getting lucky tonight.” Cody grinned before grabbing her hair & pushing her closer to him. Meanwhile Marianna sighed softly sitting on the desk with Randy between her legs kissing each other in a sloppy manner before he perked up a bit “What’s with the music?” She shrugged “Don’t worry about it.” He furrowed his expression until Mari grabbed the back of his neck and gripped on his shirt to get his attention to focus back on him, Seth noticed Rául had finally made his way into the house & rushed into the kitchen shoving Cody off of Sasha “Stop switching spit with my sister & get your shit together Ráuls here.” Cody groaned out in annoyance as he had just gotten cockblocked before Sasha shoved him away with Seth while she stood infront of the designated lounge room doors waiting patiently.

The boys followed Rául while Cody quickly smacked him in the side of his head knocking him out while Seth quickly dragged him off to the lounge rooms nodding at Sasha as she shut the door as the guys started tying the man to a chair. The two waited a good 30 minutes sitting in awkward silence until they heard Rául groan out in pain “What the fu-…” Seth got up from one of the couches & splashed a cup of water in the Drug lord’s face “Wake up sunshine we have a few things to talk about.” Rául glared up at Seth “Why would I tell you shit?” Cody squinted and rolling up his sleeves as he started going into detail “We know your association with Roman. And we think you may know a thing or two about some things that we don’t. Now i would heavily recommend fessing up to us before we get someone else you are heavily familiar with involved and you really would not want her involved.”

Rául scoffed “Her? A woman? You expect me to be scared of a woman?” Cody chuckled and looked over at Seth rubbing his jaw “We know you’re not as a badass as you think you are especially when she has dealt with you & your men by herself before Rául. So entertain us as to why Roman was planting cameras around the manor.” Cody sneered out at the grown man before he got directly spat on. Seth widened his eyes & looked over at the black haired male who was now pissed off while Rául made himself busy talking shit that he hadn’t even noticed Sasha walked into the room & then suddenly he became silent “What? I thought you were to much of a badass to be scared by a woman, what happened to that?” She taunted the man tied up in a chair while he stumbled on a few words “I-We-You-They-“ Cody snorted at the sudden shock in Ráuls body but then became serious as Sasha slapped the man across his face & held a knife to his throat “Answer the fucking question.” She commanded while repeating Cody’s previous question “Why was Roman planting cameras around my fucking home huh?” Rául cried out as she gripped at the back of his head pressing the knife closer to his skin.

“Sas-“ Cody tried taking the knife away but she pointed it at him glaring “Stay the hell out of this and let me deal with it.” She warned and he held out his hands in defense backing up while Seth grabbed his shoulder pulling him next to him “Just let her do her thing.” She shouted at the man again “Cops! H-He was going to collect footage o-on your g-guy’s business and bring it to t-the authorities in hopes of taking over!” Rául blurted out. Sasha looked over at Seth & glared before pulling away still holding the knife while Seth sighed “Well that was eas-“ Sasha turned around quickly & slit Ráuls throat making Cody yell out “Goddamnit Sasha!!” She shrugged & tossed the bloody knife across the room “What?! We can’t just let him out without worrying about whether or not he was going to tell people or not about tonight.” Seth had a hand over his mouth while Cody glared “Yeah well your mother didn’t say to fucking slice and dice someone’s fucking throat open!”

“Oh boo fucking hoo it’s not like you haven’t done it before!” He shook his head “No Sasha! I fucking haven’t! Are you fucking high?! Now we have to clean up the goddamn mess YOU made because you can’t follow fucking instructions without adding onto them! ” She rolled her eyes while Cody scolding her “Hey guy’s maybe we shouldn’t be having this conversation in-front of a dead fucking body.” Sasha scoffed “Seth get rid of whoever the fuck is in here and bring me towels, bleach & trash bags. I’ll handle it.”

Cody glared pointing his finger in her face “You don’t touch a goddamn thing!” She smacked his finger out of her face “If you point your stupid fucking finger in my face one more time i swear to fucking god I’ll cut it off in your goddamn sleep!” She shouted.

Hours later the house was rid of people Cody & Sasha scrubbed at the floor & got rid of any evidence a murder literally happened. The room was silent and filled with rustling since Seth was stuffing the upper body in a trash bag and tying it with the other trash bag that already covered the middle to lower of Ráuls body. Randy shoved the doors open seeing Cody & Sasha freeze mid floor scrubbing “I can’t leave the three of you alone for shit can i?” Seth smiled nervously before noticing a disheveled Marianna follow behind him with lipstick stains across her face & Randy’s belt a little undone before smirking “But yet it seemed to benefit you GREATLY!” Sasha teased while Cody threw a bloody sponge at her “Fucking focus!” She glared and threw it back at him ten times harder. Randy stared at Seth & gave him a stern look “Did you even deal with whoever the fuck Barbra needed you to deal with.”

Seth squinted in confusion “Do you not see me doing that right now Randal?” Sasha snickered to herself as she wiped up the soap off of the ground and grabbed the bucket of bloody water while Cody helped open the lounge rooms windows as she poured the water into a bush that laid right next to the outer part of the window while Randy sighed helping Seth pick up the bagged up body out of the house & into the trunk of his car while grabbing his keys “Seth & I are gonna be back later. And when I get back I’m having a discussion with each and every one of you.” Marianna smiled “Even me?” She teased as she was walked off not noticing Randy gave her a look and left with Seth. Cody turned to Sasha & Approached her “Your a pain in my goddamn ass you know that? We had the fucking information we needed and you just took it upon yourself to take things even further.” She smirked shrugging her shoulders “What can I say Cody. I like violence.” He glared & grabbed her by the hair and got in her face “Loose the fucking attitude before I make you.” She smiled looking up at him “And how are you gonna do that huh?” He clenched his jaw and almost spoke but she cut him off “If you think you could fuck it out of me you better think again. No matter how close you get to me I will never let you fuck me. Never in a million years.”

He quirked up a brow as she shoved him off & made her way upstairs & faced Athena on her way to her bedroom “Sas-“ “I don’t think you need to be speaking to me right now either. Wouldn’t want me to have my way with you.” She warned before shoving Athena out of her way as she went into her room. Cody looked up at Athena & scoffed shaking his head, once she made it down the stairs & pouted placing her hands around his shoulders “I haven’t been alone with you in weeks, ‘feels like she’s getting inbetween u-” Cody pushed her away glaring ��Athena there was never an Us it was just a stupid fucking moment of me & you screwing for entertainment and me realizing I still have a thing for Sasha. Whatever game you’re playing at it won’t last long.” She glared back and crossed her arms “And yet she doesn’t want anything to do with you? She only interacts with you because it’s entertainment & you know it Cody. I see the moments where you both make out & she acts like she’s interested but she isn’t. If I were you I’d drop her. But apparently your to whipped for pussy you haven’t had in 7-8 years.” She snapped before shoving past Cody while he stood there for a moment & shook his head making his way up the stairs & storming into Sasha’s bedroom.

“Cody what the fu-“ Cody grabbed her wrist & hovered over her on the bed “Shut up, shut your fucking mouth, I don’t care how much you hate me goddamnit You’re going to realize you belong to me, not Athena, not Roman, ME. & you’re going to realize that tonight & every other night for the rest of your fucking life understand?” Sasha smirked and tugged at his hair “You finally grew some fucking bal-“ Cody flipped her over on the bed and smacked her on the ass before wrapping his hand around her throat “Stop running your fucking mouth like a goddamn brat Sasha I’m tired of it.” She bit down on her lip & watched as Cody sat up and snatched her pocket knife out of her bedside table & pressed it against her thigh “Can I?” He asked while she pressed her face into the pillows nodding, He knew for years she had a thing for knives & even liked the idea of him marking her in some sort of fucked up way but he wanted her verbal consent so he smacked her ass harder causing her to let out a loud moan before nodding “F-Fuck! Yes! D-Do whatever!” She cried out while he grinned & pressed the knife up against the back of her thigh & soon started cutting his initials into her skin while she let out a strained cry

“What’s the matter baby? Not so tough now are you huh, Is this what you needed sweetheart? Someone to put you in your fucking place and make you stop acting like a spoiled little bitch?” She nodded her head moaning at his harsh words before he finally set the knife down staring at his creature proudly before unbuckling his belt “I fucking own you, understand? Your mine, only mine, I don’t care how much you hate my guts and want me dead I own you.” He snatched off her panties from under her dress after sitting up and taking off his jeans while she cried out from the mixture of pain and pleasure nodding her head vigorous and let out a loud moan as Cody shoved his two fingers into her cunt & started pumping them at a quick pace before leaning down pressing his lips against her neck & biting her skin while her hips bucked up against his wrist every time he curled his fingers inside of her pussy causing her to clench around them and moan loudly

“Yeah? You fucking like that don’t you? You missed me this fucking much? How do you expect to take my cock soon when you can barely handle my fingers baby?” He muttered in her ear while her eyes were rolled back & tears streaming down her face “F-Fuck You!” He grinned pulling his fingers out & quickly smacked her clit making her squeal and grab at his arms before he grabbed the knife again and carved his initials onto her lower stomach before his fingers smearing her blood around his stomach with a smirk invading his face before he gave her the knife “Cut me, Mark me I don’t fucking care Sasha I want everyone in this goddamn city to know You own me.” He mumbled against her mouth while she breathed heavily as his hand was still placed on-top of hers “Your sick in the head” she mumbled while she started cutting her name into his chest while he groaned “Your just as fucked up in the head as I am sweetheart, Damn near close to cumming over me slashing you up like the dumb fucking whore you are.” He smirked while she leaned down licking up the blood from his chest before he flipped her onto her back and tossed the knife across the bedroom before tugging her face closer to his “Who fucking owns you? Who is it?” She moan softly as his free hand dipped in-between her bloody thighs & toyed with her cunt

“You! Fuck- All you Cody ‘m yours!” He grinned before lightly slapping her face and biting her bottom lip “That’s right princess, your all mine. I own everything about you don’t I slut?” He ran his mouth before leaving hickeys scattered around her neck before slipping his fingers back into her pussy & thrusted them in & out of her as he marveled over how she moaned leaning her head back nodding crying out his name before cumming around his fingers as her nails dug into his arm. Cody smiled devilishly before grabbing her jaw “Look at you making a goddamn mess around my fucking hand. Dumb bitch all fucked out from my fingers alone.” He chuckled before pulling his fingers out and stuffing them in her mouth while her thighs clenched around each other as her tongue ran down his fingers before he pulled away and held her close “All fucking mine.” He mumbled as she took heavy breaths and whines every now and then. He sat up with a groan & picked her up taking her to the bathroom attached to her room and sitting her down in the tub to wash her off and disinfect the cuts along with his “Looks like a fucking murder scene in there baby.” He sighed pressing a kiss against his cheek while she hummed out tiredly. “You sit in the water & soak off while I handle the sheets alright?” She nodded tiredly while he put his jeans on and not even bothering to find hi discarded shirt before tugging the bloody sheets & blankets off her bed & exiting her bedroom only to be faced with Seth who immersed saw the blood & cut on Cody’s chest.

Cody stood there for a minute & looked down at the sheets & back up at Sasha’s older brother “For the record before you try beating my ass I did not kill your sister Seth.” Cody tried defending himself but Seth was already pissed off enough seeing the blood on her sheets. Seth tugged them out of Cody’s arms and slammed him onto the ground causing Marianna to run out of her room after hearing a slam on the floor which seemed to concern Sasha just as much who also ran out of the bedroom already dressed in shorts & a mid drift top “SETH KNOCK IT OFF!” She shouted trying to get him off of Cody who was fighting back until Seth looked over at Sasha immediately seeing Cody’s initials on her thigh followed with Barbra’s sudden voice from the stairs.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

Creds to @juceynightmare for inspo 🖤‼️

[oh-saints]

airport

rúben planned the trip to end up with sliding the 4-carat diamond ring he hid in his back pocket onto his girlfriend’s finger. spoiler: they broke up instead. and now the footballer was stuck in the airport until the bad weather cleared off. lovely, isn’t it?

rúben dias x female!OC

word count: 5.6k

note: happy new year to everyone but especially my boyfriend who’d once asked if i could make something out of our first meeting (i did meet him on a plane) so here it is! [thanks for breaking my writer’s block & enjoy ruben as he’s the only one you’d let me cheat on you with.] as usual, i happen to always write around dawn so ofc this is not beta-read but feedbacks are always welcome!

sorry bro, the ENTIRE city’s closed until the sandstorm goes away.

rúben groaned as the notification bar showed his manager’s newest message. things went spiralling down the drain so fast in the last 24 hours, his head couldn’t wrap up which one’s reality and which one’s not. he just wanted to go back home as soon as possible and throw himself to work—the only reality he knows very much real and sane—the very next day.

but they got to have a fucking massive sandstorm on the day he was returning to manchester.

rúben’s mood went from very bad to super sour in a split second.

he wouldn’t be like this, though, if his girlfriend of 2 years said yes to him last night, when he popped the million-dollar question every woman would love to hear from him, on the very place they met the first time. it didn’t make sense to him at all as to why she flat-out said no to him and scurried off like she’d caught fire on her ass when 2 days before flying out to their beautiful destination, they’d been seriously—and positively at that—talking about the possibility of marriage.

was it too fast? nothing was too fast, at least for rúben’s standard. if she was keen on spending the rest of her life with her, as she proclaimed to be, they could discuss more possibilities of what happens in their household as they go. no?

rúben had, in fact, contacted her to come back to the spacious villa he’d rented over the weekend so they could sit down and run over this like a pair of adults. after all, it always takes 2 to tango in a relationship—whatever relationship it is. rúben was willing to apologise first for acting rash, if it was the case, and made amends to what he did but instead, he found out she blocked him on every communication channel they used 15 minutes after he sent his first train of messages post-refusal.

maybe she wasn’t ready to talk it out like a mature adult solving problems. maybe she wasn’t the adult he was expecting her to be. maybe she wasn’t an adult at all.

his head was heavy and throbbing, his heart was pounding irregularly, his breathing was shallow. he wanted to scream out whatever he was feeling inside, in hope it could lessen the inexplicable emotion and the bitter taste left in his mouth.

the sound of a crying baby from afar nearly split his skull to pieces like he was being thrown a nuclear bomb.

he should’ve listened to what his brother said this morning; to not delay his departure after such a disastrous ending to yesterday’s evening. he should’ve taken the offer of flying private his brother could easily pull off with a call, if only the idea of being confined inside the small plane alone appealed to him.

he had the luxury, why bother flying couch?

it was the very question rúben had been dying to ask himself. was the loud noise of the crowd the one he looked for to drown in all the voices in his head, the very one kept asking and blaming himself of the outcome his relationship didn’t work well? was the uncomfortable plane seat the one he was searching for to ease off the niggling ache of his heart?

wait, since when was rúben gato dias a sappy boyfriend?

he knew he wasn’t heart-broken—it would’ve hurt him even more than what he was feeling—so he knew he’d survive this. give him time to work tirelessly and it would be the same as when a smoker puffed his nicotine intake out of his lungs. quick and easy to forget. but until this damn sandstorm walked away from the surface of the earth, would there be anything to distract him? anything to make his day at least better by a miniscule?

“sorry, is this seat taken?”

rúben looked up at the feminine voice, the difference to other hushed voices in the hustle-bustles of the airport was striking. a good surprise, as he could direct focus on his brain to be towards this lady instead of pondering endless what-ifs in his head, but a surprise nonetheless.

rúben wondered how she could ask such inquiry without a hint of questioning tone; she was all smiles, borderline confident the seat across him was vacant, but it didn’t come off as annoying. she was friendly, for the lack of words, and rúben sensed she’d only want to have a seat, as the café they were in was packed with people affected by the sandstorm.

so rúben shook his head to answer her question before unlocking his phone to let his family know he wouldn’t be coming back as scheduled. but as he was placing his fingers over the keyboard on his phone, he sensed someone was watching him, it wasn’t intently but it was enough for rúben to not ignore it.

the woman was still standing in her place, her hand remained on the skeleton of the chair. the smile faltered a little, however. “do you mind, though, if i sit here?”

rúben casted a glance up to meet her eyes once more, half confused as to why she didn’t sit on the chair in front of him right away—unlike what he expected her to be—another half was confused about her question in general. rúben couldn’t recall his memory of a time someone bothered to ask such thing to him, or any other person, regarding an unoccupied chair.

and weirdly enough, the woman had asked the question with an underlying concern behind her tone. as if it truly mattered to her about what he thought; that if he wasn’t comfortable enough sharing the space with her, she’d gladly move somewhere else rather than having her presence rubbed him off the wrong way.

was him sulking that palpable to everyone else in the room?

“no, please,” rúben managed to give her a tiny, pressed smile—the best he could muster with the energy he had left—and gestured his hand to show he didn’t mind her, in hope she’d feel more comfortable around him. after all, they might be spending the next several hours face to face. “go ahead.”

the smile went up a couple of watts again, and her relief unknowingly relieved something inside rúben too. “thanks.”

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rúben thought he would be spending his spare time bored as hell but boy, did the mother earth prove him wrong.

they didn’t share any words after their last interaction; rúben busied himself with his phone, the woman straight away pulled out her laptop and a notebook. the silent went on for at least 30 minutes before he noticed the woman going mildly berserk with whatever she was writing on the white paper from the corner of his eyes. hands furious, brows knitted together, eyes blazing crazy let-me-prove-you-wrong determination, lips bitten down white.

suddenly she went deflated like a swimming tube losing pressure, sighing so hard it blew the poor paper over. eyes closed in resignation, lips pouted deeply, valour escaped her entire being. she then stared at the numbers she scribbled down for a full minute, like it’d mean something to the eyes now devoid of everything, before starting to start afresh on another page of white.

scratched couple of number, jotted something else. a dozen times with a dozen of different facial expressions before she finally surrendered to whatever it was. secretly, rúben enjoyed the mini show the woman opposite him had been presenting. it reminded him of a pantomime show at a circus—entertainment of various expressions without words—but in a good way. but at that point, he was more concerned she was going to join another baby who was wailing from another side of the café.

so he decided to buy her one of the cake on display, in hope it could cheer her up, as well as apologising for the hostility he displayed the first time the fate introduced them to each other. maybe as a gratitude on the side too, rúben realised as he went on, that she was simply existing. in the rúben’s world, where everyone and everything almost felt intrusive and overwhelming at the same time all the time as they disregarded his privacy, people rarely ever did something without a hidden agenda.

maybe it was a huge leap of faith on itself but what did he get to lose now when it felt like it had been that way since last evening?

the moment rúben slid the small white plate towards her direction, those expressive eyes flashed him unspoken confusion. he couldn’t help but wonder what else and how far those orbs could convey words without words.

“you look like you need it,” rúben regained his place in front of her once more. “i hope you’re not allergic to chocolate.”

the gratitude gleamed from the same eyes—and she made sure he looked at it—threw him off guard, to be honest. he was expecting her to say something along the lines he said to her, not puss-in-boots eyes. “thank you soooooo much! you don’t know how much this means to me,” she picked up the utensils in a rush, eyes devouring the praline cake already. “i was actually thinking of buying you a coffee or something because i can be handful when i’m working.”

she was afraid she’d disturb his peace, on top of being scared she’d take up too much of his space earlier, when she barely made noise? but before he could voice out his curiosity, she handed him the fork, already scooped up with a cut piece of the chocolate dessert.

“where i grow up, we always hand the first cut to the person we’re thankful of,” she answered the question underneath the look he threw her. it amazed him that it didn’t take her five seconds to figure them out. “otherwise it’s considered rude.”

her way of thinking intrigued rúben immensely immediately, so he decided to ride off the high wave. “i hate to break it to you but my job requires me to clean healthy until i retire.”

“what the hell…” the face she pulled on resembled a famous are-you-kidding meme he usually found on his social media timeline and he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “i hope they compensate you well.”

rúben was about to throw a banter into equation but she stepped her foot on the throttle before he could. “what do you do for a living, if you don’t mind me asking? because i can’t think of a job that has strict and painful criteria like that.”

the footballer stared her down, a bit intensely this time in hope he could break off her character, should she turn out to be a deceit. this was one of the classic trick in the book; fake it till you make it. shockingly, she didn’t waver under his pressure and continued looking at him expectantly, like a student waiting for his professor to answer their question.

“i’m an athlete.”

it took her 10 seconds to digest he wasn’t kidding, that sports industry actually was that rigorous. she went white in aghast. “no way.”

rúben was stunned that she was stunned at his admission. “i don’t look like one, huh?”

“i was expecting you to say you’re a model or something.”

this time, the footballer couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his mouth. “is it too late to say that i model too sometimes?”

“you’re joking.”

the mirth and amusement stayed behind in rúben’s eyes as he shook his head one more time to answer her doubt. because heck, this woman deserved more than just a slice of praline cake for grazing her refreshing existence in rúben’s world.

“i’m so googling you,” the woman pulled her laptop closer, fallen papers be damned. “when you’re an athlete but you have modelling gigs already, you must be a hotshot.”

“eh, hotshot would be an overstatement.”

the woman shot him an incredulous look. “that’s exactly what a damn good athlete would say when praised. but drop your name, mister, so we can test out if it’s over or understatement.”

“the name’s rúben dias but at this point, i’m just flattered you consider me a hotshot,” and rúben wasn’t lying. he knows when a woman says one’s hotshot. “i can now rest in peace.”

“i can’t be the first one to call you—holy fuck,” her eyes enlarged so wide he was afraid it might pop out soon and dropped down to the gaping mouth. “you play for manchester city?”

she seethed an emotion he couldn’t recongise as she spelled out the name of the club he was now representing, and rúben detested the feeling already. one when he couldn’t pinpoint what she was feeling or thinking from what her facial features were displaying. “uh, i hope you’re not a manchester united fan.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

praise the gods above, she wasn’t.

unfortunately, her ex-boyfriend was. it was how she’d come to know the world of football, including but not limited to his current club. she stopped watching when she got accepted for her job; the very reason she was flying out today of all days.

rúben learnt her name was adriana and she was a petroleum engineer, which explained a lot to her condition. the reason she broke up with her ex was due to the long distance and lack of communication. (in her defence, she couldn’t work on it because how am i supposed to search for another source of signal when i’m like one hour away from the nearest land?) the lack of signal resulted any form of entertainment to get limited, thus her not being able to watch football despite growing fond of it as the years went by. the last time she watched anything football-related was before the season 2019/2020 started off, and it showed why she wasn’t able to recognise his face.

but the work she was currently doing wasn’t something rúben regretted out of her job, unlike her ex, because he truthfully couldn’t imagine the boredom he’d have to go through if she wasn’t stuck with him in this sandstorm. if it wasn’t because of a work emergency that came up 2 days prior, he wouldn’t have discovered the world of engineering. she was forthcoming enough when he asked the details in what she does on daily basis, even went as far as showing the source of her mental breakdown earlier—which coincidentally confirmed his guess and he couldn’t contain the butterflies in his stomach for nailing the bull’s eye.

despite coming from 2 different worlds, literally and figuratively, rúben thoroughly enjoyed the endless conversations that flowed between them. it went from their jobs, to football in general, to f1 talks, to music, movies. she was genuinely curious to the healthy eating he’d been doing for years, he was equally interested about the things she did to pass time when staying on the off-shore facility or about the things she had to do to survive when a hurricane or some sorts came crashing down her unusual accommodation. she intended to download all his netflix recommendation before all earthly-pleasures were rid off, he aimed to make a spotify playlist to contend her liked songs.

when they found out the sandstorm would still be ongoing by the time dinner fell upon, they unanimously agreed to move out of the café to somewhere else where they served proper food. she needed her caffeine fix to fight the jet lag and he needed his protein fix before his trainer blew off his ears.

(lies. he did it because he wanted to take her far away from the eagle eyes that was starting to show their true form the past hour, complete with their DSLR cameras pointing at them. and away because he wanted to listen to her intently, for she could never bore her, and he’d hate it if anyone else got to eavesdrop how much of a wonderful conversationalist she was.)

she laughed when their chosen food served—she was only having swedish meatball and he was adamant on having chicken breast for his stroganoff, on top of ordering smoked salmon salad—because only then did adriana realise each of them lived off very different lives.

“i eat because i want to, whereas you…” adriana shook her head in disbelief. rúben contemplated for so long over the menu the restaurant provided because he was looking for ones that fit his diet and, in the end, adriana hadn’t seen so many greens as rúben’s plate. “i really hope it’s all worth it.”

“it is.”

with the way rúben looked at her when he said it, adriana could only pray for her life before rúben took all of her breaths away.

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“… announcement for passengers of Emirates Airlines on flight number 431B to Tokyo, Japan.”

adriana’s eyes perked up at the airport announcement, recognising it was designated for the passengers belonging to the same aircraft as her. a small panic rushed over her bloodstream, as it now dawned her how much time had passed swiftly, afraid that she wouldn’t catch her flight in time.

although she didn’t miss a bigger, more painful pinch on her heart that she had to end whatever this is she was having with rúben. she didn’t want this to be a one-time occurrence because it had been a while since the last time she was genuinely interested in an opposite sex—she’d been bereft of a figure with face she could tolerate and brain that could keep up with her to be called her boyfriend for years now—but she did realise that with them living two different lives in two different countries with thousands of miles and oceans apart, it would only be a futile attempt to ask him to try and work this out.

“that’s your flight, isn’t it?”

adriana’s eyes zeroed back on the very person that had filled her layover hours with so many anecdotes and stories from his footballing days that she felt as if she lived through those moments with him too. rúben was sporting back the tiny, pressed smile she found the first time she interacted with him hours ago but managed to vanish as they spent more time together. she hated it immediately. she missed rúben laughing and smiling so freely like he didn’t care if they got eternally stuck in this airport.

“yeah, that’s me,” adriana couldn’t help but give him an apologetic smile. she was apologetic for living 10 hours away from where he lives, for not being able to spend longer time with him; for this particular situation they couldn’t control, in general. “unfortunately.”

rúben muttered, “unfortunately, indeed,” under his breath and another pang in the chest didn’t escape adriana.

adriana couldn’t help herself; her hand reached his before she knew it herself, as if it was her second nature. “don’t be that sad, rúben,”

one moment he was pitying himself for meeting such a wonderful woman in the wrong circumstances, one moment his heart was galloping so hard at the way her tongue rolled his name perfectly. like she had known how to for so long, like she owned it.

maybe she had, effortlessly so.

“it means your flight’s coming up. you can go home, too.”

adriana didn’t know that for rúben, his now-burned-to-ashes home had now shifted into the very one rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb softly but firmly with enough pressure, just the way he liked it. he couldn’t help but wonder how her flimsy of a hand would look prettily with the ring that sat disturbingly at the bottom of his backpack.

the silent revelation stopped rúben’s heart for a second.

he must be going crazy. or desperate. or worse, both.

maybe he was indeed acting rashly to his ex-girlfriend, for jumping into conclusion she was ready for the lifetime institution of marriage when they had only spoken of it days before. he really should slow down this time around. he blew off one chance, he didn’t want second time—especially with a woman that felt so much like someone who would drape a blanket over him after a disappointing match, be it ucl final against real madrid or not, despite only meeting her hours ago.

“you know that if i could follow you, i would, right?” adriana’s heart skipped a beat, both at his submission and at his hand enveloping hers back. every inch, every angle, every curve of their hands fell together, perfectly fitting against one another, and it scared her because how could it be when their hand sizes were kilometres different? “i mean, you still owe me so many stories of your co-workers jumping off the rig for fun.”

“you can always visit me anytime for that.”

“or you can always visit me anytime for that,” rúben threw her a mischief smile, just to rile her up—and she laughed at him, pulling her hand back so she could tidy up her things scattered across the table—but deep down, he was serious. he already planned in mind to send her jet as soon as she was back on shore. “i miss you already.”

and he wasn’t lying. he hated the cold that swept over the palm of his hand as soon as her hands went back to the respectful owner.

“please don’t,” adriana chuckled at his words, hands slipping her macbook to its leather sleeve. “i will only annoy you if i’m around you 24/7.”

“better than spending the rest of my flight without a spectacular companion.”

“i’m sure there are tons of people dying for your attention now,” adrianna’s eyes signaled people behind them that took liberty to take pictures of him as if he was another of the world’s 7 wonders. he was amazed that she kept her cool the entire time, knowing the fans could be such a disturbance. “you can always pick one of the bunch.”

“but none of them is you.”

rúben harbored the tiniest satisfaction when her entire body went rigid at his words before the eyes he was starting to love slowly focused back on him. fuck speed dating, adriana was about to leave in less than an hour and he didn’t know how long it’d take him to see her again.

adriana had always appreciated when people went straightforward with her—her mother said it was the effect of hanging out with too many boys and men alike in the rig—but hearing rúben’s each and every direct take on her was a whole new level of game. she liked it, but she really needed to step up her arsenal and fast at that.

rúben’s one hell of a handsome face didn’t help to her advantage, though. she was glad she’d be boarding a plane soon because if she stayed for an hour longer, her mind would probably go astray every time she thought of a good comeback. god damn, those brown eyes that reminded her of dipping into a chocolate fondue and the tiny smirk only he could pull off and those stubbles she was itching to run her hands through and the unique accent that tangled british and portugese—they’d be the death of her.

“let me walk you to your gate.”

adriana was thankful rúben spared her the pain of giving him a reply to something she wasn't sure there was a comeback statement to that. “that’d be lovely.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

rúben’s father always said the right woman would prove herself worthy of him the same way a man would prover himself worthy of her. he used to believe it when he was a kid but as he grew up, now entering the stardom especially, he concluded that what his father said was only applicable to the lives of ordinary men. it had always been him proving her worthy instead of the woman doing the labour her own.

however, as rúben and adriana walked down the airport towards her gates with people flocking them as they went, rúben couldn’t help but get reminded of what his father used to say. adriana took the stride with pride, embracing this ugly side of rúben’s life that people always breached and forgot he was also a fellow human with a need to protect his privacy also.

she kept engaging him in small conversations like it was another day for her, as if it was actually that easy to be around him with cameras pointing towards them. she made it look easy in the process to tuck away the reality and instead focusing on rúben and rúben dos santos gato alves dias only. the one that adriana got to know the past hour, not the manchester city’s number 3 everyone else got to see from the silver screen.

that was when he knew she was worthy of the life he could give her in the future. because frankly enough, not everyone was ready for the consequences nor did they willingly accept the baggage that came with dating a footballer playing under a name as big as manchester city.

“this is me, then.”

they had to go through almost 40 gates to reach hers, yet they’d arrived? rúben started to question the concept of time his physics teacher used to teach him. “what a short trip, i expected 15 minutes.”

adriana scoffed. “it is 15 minutes to get here, rúben.”

for once, she hated her job, too, for making her a frequent flyer to a land so far away from everyone’s reach. whoever said distance makes heart grow fonder surely had never experienced living in an off-shore rig. she hated that the very particular fact already distanced her from rúben, whose hands were now tucked in his jeans. awkward, and rúben dias didn’t suit awkward at all. not after having him around her for hours without a moment of awkwardness.

oh, how much adriana wanted to reach those hands of his again. despite the crude surface due to grazing the hardness of green grass, it brought safety and comfort to her. a feeling she’d definitely keep deep down her heart.

“aren’t you going back to your gate?”

“nah, i’m staying until i know your plane’s taken off safely.”

another pregnant pause.

and rúben hated it. but he didn’t want to touch adriana once more, for he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from purchasing a one-way ticket to tokyo. or wherever adriana was staying.

“alright then, suit yourself, champ,” adriana corrected the sling of her backpack, and rúben was glad he wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what to do with the tension between them both. “i’m going now. thank you for the amazing time, rúben. i genuinely enjoyed it.”

rúben could only nod, terrified of the other things that might escape his mouth so loosely. so he chose his words wisely, “have a safe flight.”

adriana smiled to his words, but rúben noticed the smile didn’t reach her eyes. she was sad, and rúben badly wanted to suggest that they should be sad together instead.

the airport announcement boomed throughout the building once more. rúben watched she took a peak of the line behind her, the boarding counter now almost deserted from people, and when she returned her sight to him, he saw resolution behind her eyes. it was then he knew he was out of time to convince her to stay, nothing else would waver her.

but before he could act upon his thoughts, adriana beat him to it once more.

fuck it, she thought inwardly. it’d be at least christmas before she could see him again—that is if he still wanted her around by that time. rúben had shot his fire, might as well shoot her own bullets while he was in front of her. so she stood on her toes, in order to reach rúben’s face, but to no avail, it resulted her to only reach a small part under his chin, full of light stubbles but his manly smell intoxicated her beyond words. she was glad she could only plant a featherlike peck there, or else she’d be spinningly dizzy.

the movement was as fast as a thunder struck but being a professional ball kicker, rúben had trained his reflexes all of his life. before adriana could notice, rúben had placed his hands on her waist, steadying her so she wouldn’t fall back on her ass disgracefully from the loss of balance, despite being caught off guard.

her hand remained on his cheek, as she bid her farewell of “take care, rúben,” but he could take the impression she’d wished to elongate the moment. so she could take in the feeling of having him under her hands, so she could take in the feeling of having him wrapped around her for the first and the last time today, so she could take in the feeling before she had to be deprived of this until the next time they met.

so he leaned in, doing the very one thing he had been dying to do. he eliminated the thames-long distance between them, relishing the liberating feeling of finally having what he had been desiring since the first time she popped up in front of him, for he wouldn’t have the luxury to do this as much as he would want to. not until the next time they met. with his year-long schedule, she’d be lucky if he could sneak off sometime between christmas and new year.

despite their lack of time, rúben kissed adriana deep and slow, like they had all the time in the world. his hands were now respectfully settling on her waist and the back of her neck, angling her to a comfortable position for them both, ever so gently yet full of passion. like they had done this thousands of times before.

her head was officially spinning around to the point of no return.

rúben was taking everything she could give, no remnants left behind. every gasp, every suppressed moan, every hidden groan, every nip, every desire. he didn’t care if he came off like a dementor sucking a soul out of another human; he wanted this, he needed this. so soft, so sweet, so adriana yet her lips had a streak of him across them now. she was now tasted like him, sweet temptation and danger, all in one. exactly like the dream he didn’t want to wake up from.

adriana pulled away first, her brain alerted her it was time to go and that she also required air if she wanted to live another day. she opened her eyes only to see his already staring at her, grinning like they were not going to different directions, his thumb grazed her wet lips that was covered with them.

“text me before you take off.”

and adriana had already planned to spend the last of this month’s earning to buy the on-board wifi. “i’ll text you whenever i can.”

with one last kiss between them, adriana reluctantly let go of rúben and willed herself to take a step towards the boarding counter.

gone was the warmth she would now associate this city with, both the usual sunny weather and rúben himself. adriana wasn’t a fan of cold weather herself to be honest, today just added another reason to the bag. she had even longed the pricky sensation of his sheer, unshaved beard underneath the palm of her hands.

being taller than average, rúben stood tall above everyone else’s head and watched as adriana’s figure slowly blended between the crowd lining up for the plane they’d been waiting for. call him impossible but even from afar, rúben still couldn’t take his eyes off her the way they met the first time tens of hours ago—doesn’t matter to him if it was the small of her back, the back of her head. it was still adriana, it was still parts of the amazing person he got to know the past several hours.

as rúben prayed for his feeling to not falter soon, that whatever they were having were not just some withering memories like summer breeze, adriana looked back to his direction. spotting the gigantic portugese amongst the crowd, still standing and waiting for her until she boarded the plane like he promised, she grinned and mouthed see you soon as if they’d meet again.

rúben took it as a sign for the universe to act upon it and not just prayed it wouldn’t be a fleeting moment. he’d make sure they will meet again, as soon as his schedule allowed him to be, because this time, he believed what people said; with great sacrifices comes great results. and he, for god knows why, believed this time adriana was worth everything he did, does and will fight for.

maybe a delayed gratification was what rúben was looking for as the answer to his initial question.

[unlucky-corvid]

Home

A little self indulgent piece of my OC phantom and cayde.

Angst with eventual fluff.

This has not been proof read

Enjoy xoxo

Home.

He's home.

Sprawled out on the sofa of my...our flat, snoring softly. One leg over the back of the sofa, head tilted back, resting on his hands like he never left.

His Cloak slung over the coat hook it used to call home until 5 years ago, boots beneth it, still caked in mud and on the coffee table, his holster and ace...ace 2? I glance back to my bedside dresser, caydes ace of spades resting there, the tool of retribution that carried swift justice to uldren sov. My gaze returns back to the other wespon, cracked with an un-earthly glow sitting on the coffee table.

Why can't I be happy about this,Like every one else?

Why can't I welcome him back into my...our bed like I used to, curling up into his side, listening to his inner mechanisms softly working as we simply bask in one another's presence?

I should be elated. I am. Its like every wish I ever asked for rolled together in one. An impossible ask made real, laying on my sofa...our sofa. Back where he belongs. He's safe.

But what about me?

Selfish thought I know but,What about the tears I cried every day for 5 years? The nightmares? The hallucinations? The sleep terrors? The anxiety attacks?

What about my pain!?

I grieved. I grieved for him. The life we could have had. The death of seemingly everything I held dear and now I'm supposed to just...forget that? Forget how much i suffered while everyone else managed to move on.

Envy it an ugly emotion but I feel it nontheless strongly as I do my grief.

Does he even know?

I'm sure he must have some idea. I'm sure zavala and ikora filled him in. I'm sure sundance and midnight spoke.

Spoke about the night I screamed so raw my throat bled. The night zavala found me curled up behind the bust of cayde in the tower, wrapped in his cloak as the snow settled around me, slowly burrying me as i stared off into nothingness. The missions I returned from, battered and bloody only to pick up the next bounty and leave. No food. No rest. No time to remember.

Maybe thats why his eyes followed me with that uneasy concern when I bid him good night. The look of understanding that sent an uneasy shiver down me when I asked him if we could sleep separately for a while as I got used to my dead partner being alive and well back in my...our apartment.

A shiver of frosty air shoots up my spine and sets my teeth on edge.

He's here again.

Not the real cayde.

But the cayde thats been with me since he died.

The cayde that lingers in the shadows, that stalks me in the light of day, that lingers over my shoulder. A waking nightmare.

He first started to apear a few days after caydes death. Only at night. He would hover beside my bedside, bending down beside my ear to whisper.

"I was waiting for you. Waiting for you to run in and put a bullet between that bastards eyes. But you didn't. You were too late. Too late. TOO LATE!"

"Youre sick. Sick in the head. You welcomed my killer into our home with open arms. Crow? Crow?! That's what the sick fucks calling himself now? Are you that desperate to betray me? That desperate to desicrate MY HOME with that murders precence?!"

Then it would vanish as the dawn arrived leaving me sleepless and guilt ridden.

Until it didn't.

Until guardians would give my looks of sympathy and fear when a smokey apparition of the ex hunter vanguard would be glanced over my shoulder. Lips uttering words only I could hear.

I tried everything. Pills, alcohol, therapy, eris's hive magic, maras paracausal influence but nothing stopped the ghastly characature of my dead lovers visage from taunting me.

Ikora began to avoid me. I dont blame her. Being forced to see her fallen friend every instance we spoke must have been hard but...at least she could escape it.

Zavala simply gives me this look. The kind of look you give an animal you know needs putting out of its Misery as it lays dying at the side of the road. The type of look you give sickly dying people when you know they're on their last legs. I know he means well.

But I avoid him to now. I am not dying nor sickly...not outwardly and I don't wish to be treated as such.

With a sigh I turn, heading back into my...our room.

I'll get it right eventually.

I shrug off my clothes leaving them heaped on the floor, tugging on one of caydes hoodie that no longer smells like him before sliding into bed.

"Broken" it hisses.

"You think that's what i want. You think after these years, after what you've become, I'll want you?"

"Deluded"

"Shut up" I whisper holding my hands over my ears but it does nothing to silence the vile vitriol that slips from its mouth.

"Broken little phantom. How many time did you think of crushing midnight and ending it all huh? Monster. Selfish monster even considering that. I deserve better."

I curl into a ball as if caydes hoodie and the blankets will save me from the ghastly manifestations of my biggest failure. But it dosent.

My heart rate begins picking up as further hateful bile is spews from the lips of the creature using my lovers face to torment me. My fingers tremble against my face as my body convulses with each sob that wracks my frame.

"Worthless, selfish, untrustworthy, lying, unfait-"

"Hey"

The voice seemingly interupts itself

A hand on my shoulder jolts me to the present as i turn expecting the face of a nightmare...

2 icey blue optics stare into my own eyes from the darkness. Not the misty red smoke I expected.

"Zavala...zavala told me about...well...me" he says softly. The feeling of his hand on my shoulder, thumb rubbing gentle circles feels...Alien but...also like home.

Cayde glances at the misty apparition of himself with a hard glare. His eyes soften as he looks back to you "this guys a real buzzkill huh?" He says softly in a weak attempt to lighten the mood. He readjusts himself on my...our bed. Placing himself between me and the nightmare.

"Just ignore...him? Me? No not me. Ignore it" he murmurs as he slips under the covers. I cant help my body tense as he moves up beside me. As if sensing my unease he also freezes.

"I can leave, if you want. Go back to the sofa" his voice softly speaks as if I'm a cornered animal, soothing. Safe.

I pause. No. No thats the last thing I want now. I spent 5 years apart from him, I don't want to spend a single moment away from his side.

"No please stay" I mumble, voice horse from the tears that a familiar hand was wiping away. My hand finds the material of his tshirt and I move myself trying to get iven closer despite us already being flush together.

"Always"

His body fits against mine like a puzzle piece, arms snaking round my waist, anchoring me to him. "It wasn't your fault doll. I promise"

My body gradually untenses for what feels like the first time in 5 years as I sink back into he familiar embrace of caydes body. My body trembles with the adrenaline finally leaving my system.

His chest still rises and falls, his exo body's mimic of a heart beat still reaches my ears. Home. For the first time in 5 years, We are both home.

A blue light on my bedside catches my eye. A ghosts eye, 2 of them, watch us. Midnight and sundance. The pillow I keep on the bedside cabinet once for both midnight and sundance may seem unnecessary to some but our ghosts deserve a little love to. Midnight had always looked swammed by the pillow after sundance was blown to shards but now, seeing them both huddled up to one another as they to settle down, it feels like everything is finnaly settling into place.

Cayde-6 the once dead hunter vanguard, friend and lover was finally back where he rightfully belonged.

Home.

Our home.

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

On Air [Chapter One] Smile [Alastor]

A/n: this is my first attempt at a Hazbin Hotel fic. I was inspired by 'Trials and Tribulations' by Mrs_Divinity on AO3(if you have not read this, please do) to write this. The story will contain dark content, so please heed the warnings. I'll add more as I go. Please enjoy.

The first chapter is going to be short for various reasons. And because I have lots of fics to update, this story will be a bit slow on updates but don't worry I won't abandon it.

Summary: Aelia is a hopeless romantic, so much so, that she makes a deal with an enigmatic man named Alastor whom she communicates with via a wireless radio that she found in the attic of her new home. It's not until she winds up in hell after a spree of brutal murders does she come to realize that the voice she trusted and longed to meet belongs to a demon overlord who now owns her soul.

And to make matters worse, her new demon body only reacts to him.

Will she seek redemption? Or be forever stuck to a demon who wishes to use her as an escape from boredom? Stay tuned.

Warning(s): Original female character, blood, and death, emotional manipulation, the OC is a serial killer, hopeless romantic, dark content, short chapter, false love, unhealthy relationship, and dark content.

No Minors Allowed!!

The putrid stench of death permeated the humid Tennessee air, a blend of feces and rotting flesh, but that was the least of Aelia’s concerns. 

She was at the end of the line. 

Red and blue lights bounced off the walls of her 50s fixer-upper home and despite the persistent thundering bang on her front door, Aelia did not move. She remained hunched in the corner of her bedroom, embracing a wireless Cathedral radio in a cherry wood case against her chest. 

Her heart raced as the fear of being caught dawned on her. After everything she had done; the brutal murders and the kidnappings, now she was feeling remorse. But why? She had the world in her hands. What was there to be scared of? Her life was just starting.  

“Alastor–” Aelia paused upon hearing the sound of her voice. Never had she heard something so pathetic and weak. “Talk to me…please.”

The radio hissed as two separate sound waves tried to simultaneously coexist, and then a voice as low and intense as radio static broke through; a voice Aelia yearned to hear. 

“It's nearly that time, isn't it? Tick tock. Tick tock.”

“I'm scared,” Aelia admitted. As soon as the words left her mouth, she instantly regretted it. But she knew better than to apologize.

Alastor tsked. 

“Don't lose your pluck, my dear. I still need you.”

Her heart raced and her face heated up. He needed her. His patience knew no bounds. Aelia clutched the radio tighter, wishing to hold the man behind the voice for he was the only one who gave her a reason to smile. Alastor was the angel on her shoulder, helping her take back her life. 

The day she found the radio sealed off in the attic of her new home was the best day of her life. 

“You're everything to me.”

Alastor chuckled. 

“Yes, yes. I know.”

A loud bang shook the house as the front door was kicked from its hinges. Aelia could hear the heavy footsteps of the officers as they piled into the house. The fear returned, but she took an uneasy breath and tried to sound brave.

“What do I do?”

“Why, go and meet your guests, my dear. Don't be rude,” Alastor insisted. “And remember to smile. You're not fully dressed without one.” 

Aelia stood, despite her body begging her not to, and tottered toward her bedroom door; her blood-stained dress clung to her like a second skin. She could hear the shock and disgust of the officers as she stood at the top of the stairs, knowing that it did not take them long to locate her most recent victims; she left them out as a sign of hospitality.

An officer with an elderly appearance was the first to see her, widening his eyes. Aiming his Glock 22 at her, he yelled at her to get down, gaining the attention of the other three. 

Each of them raised their guns, but Aelia did not cower. She hugged the radio against her chest and with all the strength she could, she forced a wide smile. 

Soon…my love.

[kkpaaw]

Haven't posted anything trolls in a while so uh, here ya go. Redesign or my Oldest Oc Vio and his Best Friend Landon

Old Art (and old Designs)

Fun Facts about Vio

VA is Ne-Yo

Singer name is: ??? (Dunno yet)

Capybara type energy- just really chill with everyone

Fur is white due to condition. Only bright part about him is his hair

Solo Idol/Singer

Since his VA is Ne-Yo majority of the songs he's sung ARE Ne-Yo songs. Not all though

Regularly Collabs with his best Friend

Pop/Funk hybrid

Can't stretch his hair, it limp af

No light in his eyes, all dull there, don't worry tho he is happy it's just how his eyes are.

AroAce

Fun Facts About Landon

VA is Ed Sheeran

Singer name is: ??? (I dunno yet)

Old name was Asui. He tossed it out and changed his name to Landon

Charismatic as heck

Way more of a popular Idol/Singer compared to Vio (not that Vio minds)

Gets hit on alot by fans. Takes it in stride though

Likes to compliment everyone

Majority of his Songs are Ed Sheeran Songs. Not all of them tho

Solo Idol/Singer but regularly collaborate with his best friend Vio. Ita always a huge hit when they do

Glitter Pop/Country Hybrid

Cousins to Delta on her mother's sister's side though he's younger than her by a decade+

^(is due to the fact that I never realized how much they look alike? Even with his old design I never noticed that I gave him the same color palette as Delta Dawn??? Like how???)

They are the cousins who look like they should be siblings.

Songs they are both most popular for when they collaborate is "I Don't Care"(Ed Sheeran & Justin Beiber) and "Don't Wake Me Up" (Jonas Blue & Why Don't We)

They make sure to sing those songs as least once during their collab concerts (mainly because it's ALWAYS being asked for) they alternate which one to sing at the end of their concert

[thequeenofthewinter]

Work-in-Progress Wednesday

Hi, hello, hey ya! It's mid-week and you know what that means! Time for WIP snippets baked fresh outta the kitchen. Mmmm...smells like...I don't know when to leave my OC alone. TT Enjoy! ;)

I was tagged by the lovely, beautiful and talented @kookaburra1701 and @ladytanithia.

I would like to pass the tag to: @oblivions-dawn @mareenavee @changelingsandothernonsense @paraparadigm @gilgamish @orfeoarte @snowberry-crostata @skyrim-forever @throughtrialbyfire @wildhexe @expended-sleeper @dirty-bosmer @sheirukitriesfandom @umbracirrus

“I don’t know what do to with him, Lydia.” Dahlia sighs as she tries to prop herself up on her and Ulfric’s bed. 

Her housecarl gives her a wary look as she bites her lip, trying to contain her blunt response—drag him back to bed by force and make him see sense. However, that will do naught all to help Dahlia at the moment. Instead, she picks up one of the danishes on the tray balanced precariously over her friend’s lap and stuffs it into her mouth unceremoniously. Perhaps if she has a few seconds to chew and think, she’ll be able to come up with something that is at least partially constructive.

“It just doesn’t make any sense to me. It’s not logical. How can one spend so much time down—” She cuts off her own words to take a deep breath in. Lyssa has told that she needs to remain calm. Or at least as calm as one can when one can be when being the vessel for a dragon soul while having an endlessly frustrating husband. “I know he thinks that he’s trying to protect me or the baby or Skyrim or whatever, but this is not good for him.”

Lydia swallow her bite of danish and licks the tips of her fingers before answering. “Sounds familiar.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I am not sure which one of you has a worse hero complex, you or him.”

Dahlia sits there for a moment, hands folded over each other and a sour look on her face as she stares at Lydia.

“You can’t tell me that isn’t true. You know it’s true. You did the exact same thing while we were off after Alduin and then you threw yourself into the Civil War. Now you’re Queen of an entire country and Divines know what you’ll do next.”

“I have no plans for anything other than having a baby currently, and I would like to keep it that way. I have had more than enough excitement to last me several lifetimes.”

Lydia picks up her danish. “I’m no fool and neither are you, so why would you pretend that either of us are?”

Dahlia’s eyes widen and then narrow as her fingers begin to tap against the back of her hand. Slow breaths, in and out. 

“I know you do not want to talk about it. No one wants to talk about it or even think about it, especially with,” Lydia nods her head down towards Dahlia’s stomach, “the baby on the way, but you know as well as I—as well as anyone else in this distracted country that you’ll be the first one sent into battle, Gods be damned what you want. Don’t stick your head in Elsweyr’s sands now. It will be all the worse for you later.”

The worst part is that Dahlia knows it—has always known it. She turns her head away from Lydia and away from the sharp truth of her housecarl’s words; however, that does not stop the acute stab of pain which seems to radiate out from her chest, a depressing shadow which crushes her paper-thin hopes. They dance briefly in the wind like chimes, propped up on the imaginary strings of illusion and dreams as she tries to hold onto them. But it is the stinging of her eyes and later the tears that fall from her lashes which wash them away completely as if they were never really there. Were they ever there?

She sucks in a breath, filling her lungs as the taste of salt and fire coat her tongue, and lets go. “I know, but I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

[sexualtensiongrowing21]

I promise you I didn’t do it

Draco Malfoy x OC

TW: None

Word count: 368

“Tessa!” Draco's voice booms from behind me as I read from my potions book. Taking my time before turning to him, I finish the paragraph I'm reading, place my book mark and set the book down before looking over at the blonde haired Slytherin boy. Or, at least, used to be blonde haired Slytherin boy.

His face is reddened with anger. Almost as red as his hair. One look at the boy and I cannot contain my laughter. He moves to stand in front of me, eyes narrowed, as I cover my mouth in an attempt to stop myself from laughing.

Draco Malfoy's hair is as red as a Wesley. This is by far my favorite day in history.

In between laughs I am able to manage out a snide remark “Is this another feeble attempt to woo the Gryfindore Princess? Because I think this is a tad too much.”

Draco looks at me as if he wants to cast an unforgivable at me. Wand raised and everything as he glares at me. Then it dawns on me that he thinks it was me, my laughter stops slightly.

“Wait, wait!” I plead with my hands in the air. A small smile is still playing on my lips. “I promise you I didn't do this!”

Unconvinced, Draco's stare is steadfast. “Then why are you laughing!?”

Taking another moment to admire the handy work of whoever played this joke on the ‘Slytherin Prince’, my smile widens. “Because whoever did it is a bloody genius and I can’t believe I didn’t think of it first.”

The rational seems to settle with the fiery haired Slytherin as he looks around in defeat and plops down next to me on the couch. Turning to him slightly I try and lighten to mood.

Reaching my arm up to ruffle his hair, I question “So… Is it just the hair on your head they cursed or is it everywhere?” His head whips over to me as he pushes me away from him, before mumbling angrily “Everywhere.”

I explode In laughter as he takes the pillow from beside me and thumps me in the head with it. “Just help me figure out how to reverse this!”

Masterlist

My requests are open!

[joels6string]

More Than My Father's Son

Joel Miller x f!OC

Chapter 4 - Through the Leather

Summary: A horde of infected isn't the only thing you're forced to face out in the woods of Wyoming.

Rating: E

Word Count: 5.1k

Content: NSFW, high levels of violence normal to the TLOU world, angst, fluff, slow burn, miscommunication trope (it’s Joel Miller…), Joel’s traumatic childhood, getting together, eventual smut, canon divergence after SLC, fix-it fic

You should have known it would happen this way. At least you’d gone down fighting, and fighting for a purpose. If you had to die to keep the people of Jackson safe—for Ellie, for Joel—then so be it.

Chapter 3 || Series Masterlist

The dawn of a new summer morning had the toes of your boots glistening with dew. A fretful Maria had sent a group of ten, including you, your usual partner Indy, and the Miller brothers, out to clear the horde Tommy prayed hadn’t gone far. You and Joel had stayed yards apart as you collected ammo and saddled the horses, your eyes sliding to him too often, the feeling of his own prickling the hair on the back of your neck just as frequently. 

“Groups of two!” Tommy instructed, “You go twenty yards and straight on back, no one’s goin’ far, understood?”

A murmur of agreement echoed around the group, Indy slinging her arm around your shoulder, “Ready, partner?”

You’d forgotten how much sweeter the birds’ song sounded when the world was lit by the first light of day. Sleep had evaded you after your argument with Joel, guilt and self-loathing battling in your head as you watched the rain drop down from the browned spot in your ceiling. He had come bearing groceries, the mystery of how he got them so late at night beginning a spiral downward. You assumed some coordinated efforts by he and Maria, but knowing him, it was just as likely he knocked on the shopkeeper’s door after returning from wherever he’d gone and dragged them back in the rain.

“Question!” Indy sang from in front of you, turning to walk backward as she smirked, “When you’re not out here picking off runners one by one like some superhuman freak, what are you doing?”

“This Maria or Joel talking?” you replied with a laugh, her theatrically feigned offense reminding you why you preferred having her at your side for patrols. 

“Joel scares me a little, I gotta be honest. Glad he’s on our side, cause the last place I’d want to end up is at the end of his fucking machete. He’s too good with that thing.”

“Don’t tell him that. It all goes right to his head.”

A whistle had your gazes snapping back to the rendezvous point, a gunshot firing off setting your feet in motion as you sprinted towards the sound. Snarls and piercing screams previewed the scene before it came into view, a swarm of runners lumbering towards the line of shotguns and revolvers that awaited them. Joel was at the front and center, your eyes finding him with his trusty blade as you surveyed the area for a high vantage point, finding one that seemed safe enough on the roof of a ruined home. 

“Cover me while I get up,” you instructed Indy, who nodded as her own pistol was drawn, “Don’t go far. And don’t die.”

“Are you getting sentimental on me already, Deacon?” she teased, “Make me earn it.”

With a scoff through your nose, you bid her a safe farewell, weaving through the maze of firing guns and melee attacks, Indy’s gun echoing from behind you as she kept watch of your left. The roof was unsteady beneath your feet, the shingles giving away after years of rot, and your balance was tested as the air began to smell of gunpowder, a scent that calmed you far more than it should.

Despite a lack of sleep, your aim was unaffected, the quiver strapped to your back stocked with 20 arrows that you fired off with ease. The eagle-eyed view provided you with too good a look at the carnage, your eyes frantically sweeping for fallen comrades. The thundering of your heart in your ears provided the metronome you needed to stay focused until a beat skipped when you watched on with horror as a runner beelined for an unsuspecting Joel. It was out of your normal range, just slightly too far for accuracy, your vision tunneling as your feet took off over the beams uncaring of their integrity.

“Joel!” you screamed to no avail, you were too far away, “God damnit… JOEL!”

On unsteady feet, you hit the ledge of the roof and fired, a shrieking cry was the only hint of whether your arrow landed, the roof giving way beneath your feet and sending you hurtling to the ground, the impact pushing the air from your lungs too fast. Sputtering and dizzy you groaned as you tried to move, the world sounded as if it were underwater, your sight blurred entirely as you tried to focus on anything. 

“Fuck…” you grimaced, every inch of your body throbbing.

As your vision began to align, a beam jutting straight up barely a foot from your right had you gasping, your breath speeding up at the thought of being impaled. That wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined you’d go out. With a wince and a groan, you lifted yourself onto your elbows, spotting your now-stringless bow as the reality of your crushed quiver on your back set in. 

“Fuck,” you repeated, this time with anger, “Oh shit. Shit…”

That left you with a hunting knife and two magazines for your handgun, a handgun that had been tossed two yards behind you, a consequence of never clipping your holster shut. Joel would never let you live it down if he got wind of it. Moving still proved troublesome, every muscle still cramped and sore, your hearing beginning to regulate long enough to notice the gunshots had slowed. 

“Looks like it’s my lucky fucking day,” you muttered to yourself, flopping back down onto your back to catch the breath that had already evacuated your still-shellshocked lungs. 

It came out of nowhere, its deformed face streaked with blood and wild eyes coming within inches of your own. Your arms held it at bay with every ounce of strength you had left, the maniacal clacking of its teeth matching the frenzy with which it flailed against your waning defenses. Your knife was at your back, your gun too far to reach, and your left hand slammed against the ground for anything with weight, finding a large enough rock to stun the runner as you smashed it against its temple. The blow only gave it pause, but in those split seconds you pulled your knee to your chest and kicked, turning quickly to crawl to your gun that was now inches from your fingers after the struggle…until a strong grip caught you by the ankle, your body twisting in the hold as you watched those rotting teeth descend into your Achilles.

“No!” you screamed, pulling as hard as you could from your awkward position, your eyes wide in horror as you came upon the end. 

You should have known it would happen this way. At least you’d gone down fighting, and fighting for a purpose. If you had to die to keep the people of Jackson safe—for Ellie, for Joel—then so be it. You’d been on borrowed time already, let them profit from it. If you could reach your gun you could take care of it yourself, save whoever would volunteer the trouble. You knew deep down it would be Joel, his wish to have his hands cleaned of the blood he’d been bathing in for decades nothing more than an unattainable dream. 

As you watched the teeth disappear, the firing of a revolver echoed in the ruins you’d been shrouded by, the splatter of blood spraying across your face warm even in the August heat. The runner fell to your right as someone else dropped to your left, your body rigid with fear as your eyes met panicked hazel. 

He needed to get away. You were infected. Adrenaline lifted you onto your hands, scrambling you away from him as he tried to look at what you already knew was there. You’d seen it happen. 

“Don’t,” you gasped, searching for your pistol while your gaze stayed locked on Joel as he followed, his palm trapping your calf to the ground with an iron grip.

“Stop!” It was a command, and you froze.

The click of his pocket knife was all you heard, the voices around you drowning out as your head fell back beneath the waters of despair. You watched as he cut straight through your laces, ripping off the boot you’d had for barely a month. Everything was numb. The rocks and splinters jutting into your palms went unnoticed, blood beginning to stain what pierced through the skin. Fear owned you now, it ran frigid through your veins, your body beginning to tremble as you stared at the charcoal mop of hair in front of you as gentle fingers tugged the edge of your sock. 

His face was the only thing you focused on. It was the only thing you weren’t terrified to see. Maybe it was the last thing you wanted to see. The fine lines set into sun-darkened skin, the streaks of silver through the slate gray thickly covering his jaw, the scar that adorned the right side of his nose, if you had to get bad news you’d rather read it on his features than hear the words. Joel was never one for talking anyway.

Another click brought you out of your head, this one beside your left ear, the cold metal of a muzzle pressing to your temple enough to have you losing what little air you’d been sucking in. 

Joel was lunging faster than you could comprehend that he was no longer kneeling at your side, his shoulder hitting whoever had been brave enough to approach hard enough to have his victim grunting. The surrounding chatter grew louder, but you could only focus on one.

“Don’t you point that gun at her, boy!” he sounded feral, unchained, “I’ll send you to your god damn maker, you hear me!”

Tommy was speaking now but terror kept your eyes locked on where Joel had been seconds ago. Had it been longer? The seconds seemed to be slogging by, dragged down by the weight of realization and regret. You hadn’t looked at your ankle, at Joel as whatever fight had broken out continued, you hadn’t found Indy in the crowd…you just counted the pattern of Joel’s boot print in the dirt, traced the shape of it imprinted in the ground.

“He stays over there!” you managed to decipher that familiar, unhinged tone, “Out of my sight!”

“Okay,” someone you knew had to be Tommy agreed, “Alright. Paulie, Paulie you go over there.”

“Tommy, she’s bit!” Busted. “I saw it with my own eyes!”

“Take one step!” Joel bellowed again, Tommy once again muttering something to try and dampen his fire, “Take that god damn step!”

“Joel!” Tommy’s voice was strained now as if he was restraining someone. The younger Miller was a force to be reckoned with, but his big brother would always have him beat.

“He’s gonna get us all killed!” Why was everyone wasting so much time? Your gun was close, you could put an end to it all right now.

Click. That one wasn’t pointed at you, it was too far away.

“Oh, I’m beggin’ you at this point. Gimme a god damn reason!” 

“Joel! God damnit! Go help her, for Christ’s sake!”

Red-faced and breathless, Joel dropped back at your side, his nostrils flaring as he picked up your leg again, finally looking at the point of contact, point of infection? The cause of death… 

“You doin’ alright?” Tommy’s gentle tone called as he crouched beside his brother, shrouding Joel from your view, “Anything hurt?”

If nothing hurt, nothing was wrong, right? You shook your head violently as you forced your attention to focus on the calloused fingers brushing over your skin, the attempts to regulate your haggard breathing all but useless. 

“She’s clean,” Joel sighed in relief, his brother’s skeptical gaze shifting to him, “Tommy, I swear.”

“Let me see.” 

Tommy’s touch felt wrong, your knee reflexively jerking your foot away at the foreign sensation. Joel’s hand shot out to your knee, and where you expected him to hold you firmly in place, the grip was gentle. His thumb reassuringly dragged up and down along the inner side of your knee as Tommy attempted again, softer this time. 

“Didn’t make it through the leather,” Joel’s voice announced with an uncharacteristic quiver, his free hand tossing your boot into Tommy’s lap.

“Get her home,” Tommy appeased, clapping a hand onto his brother’s broad shoulder, “We’ll be sure there.”

“Tommy…”

“It’s gonna be fine, Joel. Get her back, she’s white as a ghost.”

As Tommy began rounding up the others, it left you Joel alone beneath the dilapidated ruins. You were still in plain sight of the others doing one last meander around the area for any stragglers, each of Jackson’s residents accounted for and safe, but it felt like a space all your own. His hand hadn’t left your knee, his gaze still averted to your now-bare foot sitting in the dirt.

“You alright?” he asked timidly, finally looking at you with wide, soft eyes. You gave him a nod, your voice still lost in the whirlwind of panic still swirling. “You ain’t keepin’ that boot. C’mere.”

It was effortless the way he lifted you up into his arms, your fingers locking behind his neck as you pushed the memory of the last time you’d been cradled against his chest like this. How similar the circumstances had been, yet so very different. This felt worse. 

The horses were half a mile away, his body stiff yet warm as he carried you through the woods. The sun was midway between the horizon and its highest point, the birds still chirping as they were before your life had once again flashed behind your eyes. His familiar scent invaded your senses, you’d grown so accustomed to it at the end of your journey that you’d failed to recognize how synonymous with comfort and safety the blend of gunpowder, leather, and earth had become. 

Every steady thud of his heart against your ribs sent you further in a trance that ensnared you in an endless loop of terror. The snarls. The gunshots. The grip on your ankle as you twisted. The moment your heart stopped as you watched those rotting teeth disappear into what you’d assumed was your own flesh. You still weren’t sure if you’d avoided it. Maybe this was just the final walk to a peaceful resting place. No one else had to suffer through watching your final breath. 

“You can ride with me,” he offered as the horses came into view, the offer so tempting you almost accepted.

“No. I’m okay.”

A retort sat on the edge of his tongue as you swiped the evidence of your despair free from your face, and when he gave you a curt nod it fell into your stomach like a rock. The dejected look on his face, the resignation, the memory of seeing this same look just last night…

“I’ll help you up.” It was barely above a whisper, but it didn’t need to be. 

The way your ankle throbbed had reality setting in, Joel’s wayward glances in your direction as you tapped your Buckskin horse’s side with your shoed heel was all the evidence you needed.

“Where are we going?” you asked, not bothering to look over at him, missing the confusion etched on his face. 

“What the hell do you mean where are we goin?” he snapped, completely befuddled, “Home. You’re bleeding from your damn head.”

You hadn’t noticed. 

“Did you wanna stop for a picnic?” In any other circumstance, you’d have laughed at his dry sarcasm, but now it just made your chest ache. 

“Just get it over with.”

An abrupt tug at the reins had you stopping mid-trail, Joel circling around to face you on the Arabian he rode regularly. As emotionally closed off as he was, Joel had always been able to read your expressions and mood with ease, something that always took you aback after years of masking successfully. There was no hiding from him. You hated it, or maybe you just hated this forced vulnerability he brought out. 

“I ain’t lying to you,” he assured, sincerity threaded in through his voice, his posture, his expression, “Nothin’ happened beside you being stupid enough to save some jackass who wasn’t payin’ attention.”

“Figured I owed you.”

“You don’t owe me shit.”

You owed him an apology, you knew that much.

“I’m sorry about what I said,” you began, throat dry and cheeks burning, “last night.” That would have to be enough. 

“S’fine. You weren’t wrong,” he confessed, “But it ain’t why I brought you here. I brought you here cause…”

“Because you feel somethin’. That’s why.”

“Cause you ain’t half bad to have around,” he finished, wondering if you could see the blush he’d felt erupt over his face, “Now move. Stop fussin’ and get home.”

Maria’s face fell as the gates opened to reveal only you and Joel returning, Joel quickly hopping down to reassure her that all was well, his hands softly gripping her upper arms as she nodded, her eyes shooting over to you still sitting atop your horse as you awaited Joel’s return. From a distance, you couldn’t tell if it was horror or concern that was widening her eyes.

“Maria!” Joel bellowed as she took off in your direction, your body freezing as she grabbed your ankle and wrenched it out from the stirrup.

“Let me see it,” she snarled, Joel’s hand grabbing her wrist as he stared menacingly, his nostrils flaring.

“It’s fine,” you murmured, turning your leg enough to give her a glance. She’d tell you the truth.

“I want her scanned.”

“Fine,” Joel conceded, “Tommy said–”

“Now. I want her scanned now.”

“Just get it over with,” you sighed again as you dismounted, Joel's insistence on delaying the final word sending unease churning in your stomach. If all was well, what had him so afraid?

One of Jackson’s most promising new patrolmen, Jesse, jogged up, that cursed device that had ruled over civilization for too long now set in his hand. You gave him your back, tucking your chin to your chest as the cool metal prongs pressed to either side of your spine. Joel’s arms were crossed on his chest but you didn’t dare chance your view passing higher than his torso, the lump in your throat burning as you awaited that dreaded beep.

“Get her to the med bay,” Maria announced before you heard the dirt crunching beneath her boots, Joel’s hands immediately keeping you upright as you damn near collapsed in relief.

“You treat everyone like this?!” he yelled after her, “You should work on your hospitality, Maria. This ain’t the Miller way.”

“Don’t you tell me how to act,” her words were like venom, their poison seeping in despite their aim not being directed at you, “I have an entire settlement to keep safe, my life doesn’t revolve around one fucking person. I don’t have the luxury, unlike some. So get her to the fucking med bay.”

The gates were opening again as Joel gestured for you to hop up onto his back, the fact you only had one shoe still one he hadn’t forgotten. Your arms wrapped around his neck, you were clinging to him for dear life as he slowly walked you from the gates to the medical bay. His hair smelled slightly of soap still, the aroma mixing with that always-familiar scent of him as you waited for his request to ease your grip, you knew it was too tight, your knuckles were white where they gripped onto your own forearms. But he never complained. 

Antiseptic quickly washed away the comfort of him, your feet hitting the ground beside a bed he gestured you to lay on with a tick of his chin. Hushed voices were indiscernible, your shaking fingers finally pulling up the hem of your jeans and looking at where you swore a bloody bite mark would be. Though swollen, no skin was broken, your chest heaving as you finally let the anxiety you’d been keeping trapped with haggard breaths. 

It had taken until now to realize just how bloody you were. Your palms were scraped, your right having a gash that looked like it might require a stitch, and you could feel the dried blood caked on the side of your head. The pain you’d felt as you’d hit the ground returned, a choked moan of agony finally falling free as you twisted at the waist. Joel and a woman you’d never met before rounded the privacy curtain they’d been hidden behind, the doctor carrying two bowls and a rag that she set on a small table near the foot of the bed.

“I got it,” Joel insisted, a nod dismissing the stranger from the space as he sat at the foot of the bed, directing his attention to you, “You look like shit.”

“Yeah, well, we can’t all be you,” you retorted with a breath of laughter through your nose.

“You sayin’ I look decent? You hit your head harder’n I thought. Close your eyes.”

He began with your face, your nostrils burning from the alcohol-soaked rag. Slow swipes cleared the blood and dirt covering your face, his thumb and pointer finger maneuvering you at the chin. He worked meticulously, the loss of your vision making every sensation feel heightened. His fingers were rough, calloused from years of brutality and labor, but so warm and gentle. 

“Why didn’t you have her do this?” you mumbled, half entranced.

“I know you don’t like people touchin’ you,” was his easy response.

That was a facet of your psyche you had no idea he’d deciphered. Your words from last night crashed against your already shattered resolve, the accusations you’d hurled sinking in like thorns. With every subtle turn of your head, they dug in deeper, the wincing twisting your features not a result of the alcohol stinging at open wounds, but reality. 

When his thumb swiped at the tear rolling from the corner of your eye, your teeth sunk into your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. He stayed silent, continuing his task, but you could feel his gaze burning through you as he tried to get a read. You tried to stop the quivering of your lower lip, this could be blamed as a result of physical pain if you could control it enough, but the soothing pinch to your chin as you felt the trail of a second loll down your cheek and wrap beneath your jaw, you knew the only escape was avoidance.

“Gimme your hand,” he instructed, “this’ll hurt.”

Debris fell free of the large gash in your palm, the stream of liquid fire cleaning it quickly and efficiently as you whimpered, your fingers twisting into the rough blanket you sat on as he poured over it again. You heard him call for the doctor, noting you needed a stitch and he’d “prefer the professional do that.” His fretting then led him to your ankle, a bandage being wrapped tightly around the swelling before a pillow was used to elevate it and a bag of ice laid over the top.

“She’s gonna stitch you up,” he told you, the loss of his touch leaving you feeling lost, “And I’m getting you somethin’ to eat. And you’re gonna eat it. I will not leave until you do, understood?”

“Yes,” you agreed, the terms were fair.

“Any requests?”

After a shake of your head, he left, his voice heard speaking with someone right outside the door. Maria and Tommy entered moments later, new clothes and boots being carried between the two of them, along with the ruined remnants of your bow.

“I talked to a couple people,” Tommy began, “We’ll have no problem fixin’ this right up. But, I wanted to offer a new one first if that interests you.”

“No,” you quickly replied, “Thank you.”

“A new string it is, then.”

As thread tugged through the nerve-packed skin of your palm, Maria sat where Joel had just been, her hands wringing nervously in her lap.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, “For how I acted–”

“It’s fine,” you cut her off, the exchange at the gate already long forgotten, “I get it.”

“Take a week to rest. We’ll see how you’re doing then, get you back out.”

“Joel’ll be back in a minute,” Tommy assured as Maria stood to leave, “And we’re fixin’ that roof of yours tomorrow, heard it leaks.”

Survival was a basic instinct, when shoved into a life or death situation you always fought to make it out in one piece, exiting with a nonchalance that had it gone the other way you’d have nothing to lose. But as terror overtook you, it forced the consideration into your mind that maybe that wasn’t the case anymore. 

The silence that usually felt like a security blanket had turned desolate. Maria and Tommy had gone, even the doctor had gone to another room, the empty space seemingly expanding into a bottomless abyss as it swallowed you whole. The heavy weight of the grim reaper’s scythe still rested on your shoulder, and for the first time in 20 years you realized just how much that scared you.

“I don’t wanna die…” you whispered like a mantra, your chest burning, “Don’t leave me here…”

“Hey! Snap out of it!”

“Ellie?”

Green eyes set above a freckle-dusted nose snapped into view, the feeling of two hands tightly gripping your upper arms pulling you back from the shadows. 

“Ellie?” you repeated again, shame replacing fear, “I’m sorry.”

“Joel said he didn’t want you to be alone. I can see why,” she replied with a smirk as she plopped down beside you on the bed, “Here, I got new music.”

It was a song you’d heard before, but you couldn’t focus on it. Ellie was nestled against your side, her fingers quickly moving across the paper as she sketched the horse she’d been bonding with over the last few weeks. She’d named her Shimmer. You focused on the lines, watching how she took a blank page and scribbled scratches and turned it into something with shape and life. 

“Alright ladies,” a familiar timbre called from the opening door, “Food. Extra pickle for Ellie.”

“Ha ha,” she scoffed as she snatched the bag from his hands, “You’re hilarious.”

“That’s what they say. Now you, on the other hand,” he shifted, “I have no idea what you like. And somethin’ tells me you don’t either. So give that a go and we’ll take it from there.”

A month had passed and hot food was still something you had yet to venture into. Every invitation from Indy for dinner last week had been refused, the Tipsy Bison was nothing more than a place to get some decent scotch, and the pantry items you hoarded were picked at sparingly at home. When you opened the bag to find a simple sandwich, grilled and warm, it set off the inescapable alarms.

“You agreed,” Joel reminded in a stern tone, “You don’t like it, we’ll find you somethin’ else.”

“I can take care of myself.” You hated the way those words sounded as they left your lips. 

“Just eat the damn sandwich. We can argue later.”

“It’s a panini,” Ellie chimed in lightheartedly, the storm clouds that threatened to roll in receding.

“That is a grilled ham and cheese,” Joel corrected, his face twisting in that dramatic exasperation you’d come to revere. 

“No. It’s a panini. C’mon dude, they existed before the outbreak. You have to know what a panini is.”

“I’m wonderin’ how you know what a panini is, they serve those at FEDRA military school?”

Their banter provided the perfect ambience as your fingers ran over the crisp, toasted bread. The smell had your mouth watering, the way your stomach was gurgling probably audible even over Joel’s explanation of what constituted a panini and what was simply just a grilled sandwich. You could tell Joel was trying not to focus too intently as you took your first bite, the flavor exploding on your tongue after years of canned goods and stale leftovers. 

“It’s good, right?” Ellie asked, probably because Joel gave her that eyebrow raise he didn’t think you’d catch.

“Yeah,” you answered, “And I think paninis are technically made on rolls…”

“See! I told you!” Joel exclaimed excitedly, having finally won an intellectual battle with the kid, “Not a panini. That is plain ol’ sliced bread.”

“Fine,” Ellie surrendered, “But I want to try a fucking panini one day.”

“It is the same damn thing!”

“So you admit it’s the same thing!”

After Joel was content with how much you’d eaten and compared you to a kid who needed to be bribed to finish their plate at dinner, he and Ellie walked you home. Your ankle was sore but not useless, Ellie insisting on being your crutch as Joel lingered nearby. Their conversation had moved to what movie they were going to watch next, with Ellie making him promise it would be this week while she suffered on farm rotation, her least favorite. 

Their house was closer, and Joel sent Ellie in as you passed, opting to take you the last few blocks himself. 

“You good?” he asked when you turned off of Rancher street, “Be honest now.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, and he knew it, his angry scoff enough evidence to go on.

“Whatever you say. I talked to your partner, what’s her name? Indy?”

“Yeah.”

“Offered her house while we work on the ceiling. Told me she can teach you a thing or two about cookin’.”

Indy had been insisting, cooking was her greatest joy and the fact you were clueless in a kitchen was something she’d taken very personally. You knew it was futile to argue, especially after the events of today.

“Thanks for not letting me die out there,” you laughed as your house came into view, trying to hide the sincerity.

“Don’t go makin’ it a habit now,” he teased, “You’re gettin’ me in trouble.”

“Well, you held a gun to Paulie’s head, so…”

“And I’d do it again.”

“He can be annoying.”

A gruff chuckle rewarded your deflection, but you knew those words' intent and the weight they carried.

“Go get some sleep,” he bade softly, “Tommy and I’ll be down in the morning. Shoot a flare or somethin’ if ya need me.”

“Funny.”

“I try.”

When your hand gripped the cool metal of your doorknob, you noted that his footsteps hadn’t started, a peek over your shoulder confirming he was waiting until you were safely inside before heading home. Your last conversation still haunted you, the pitiful apology you’d given him earlier too inadequate.

“Joel!” you called out, whipping to face him despite knowing he hadn’t moved an inch.

“I already said it’s fine.” 

You hadn’t said a word, and yet he knew. Was it that plainly written on your face? Or was he simply just that good at reading it? With a simple nod, you silently bid him goodbye, the anticipation of the nightmares you knew you’d face tonight already trembling in your fingers. 

Chapter 5

[bensonstablers]

I was tagged by @sothischickshe (thank you!!! 🥰) to answer 20 questions for writers:

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

205.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

609,094

3. What fandoms do you write for?

fandoms i've written for include:

Law & Order: SVU / L&O: Organized Crime

Good Girls

Gotham

Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Angel

Criminal Minds

Graceland

Stranger Things

The Walking Dead

Riverdale

Castlevania

Preacher

Four Brothers

Outer Banks

Gilmore Girls

while no longer available, in the past i've also written for:

Fast and Furious franchise

MCU / Marvel

Boondock Saints

Hocus Pocus

From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series

DC

(plus more i'm probably forgetting about)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Shared History (Good Girls/Brio)

Degree of Separation (Good Girls/Brio)

Milkshakes (Good Girls/Brio)

Deep Sense of Belonging (Good Girls/Brio)

Sacred Art of Kissing (Good Girls/Brio)

5. Do you respond to comments?

i read all of them for sure but i'm terrible sometimes at responding although i do try my best

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

ooft, okay. there's probably more than this but the following have major character death warnings that could very well be classed as angsty lmao:

i wrote this little ficlet: Gone (SVU, bensler/EO) in which a raid goes wrong and it's just pain from start to finish and then there's Until Long After She Takes Her Final Breath which is a Good Girls/brio fic in which their reunion at the beginning of season 3 goes very differently.

Why don't we go to Venus? is another Good Girls/brio fic in which the summary is: Rio killed her and that was supposed to be the end of it but Beth doesn’t seem to be done with him quite yet.

that one is probably my angstiest overall but the ending is probably the least angsty bit about it??? haha

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

honestly? i have no idea and i have no clue how to check 😭😂

8. Do you get hate on fics?

there was someone going around the SVU/OC fandom leaving weird hate comments on people's stuff (anonymously) and i got one but while it felt rude, it didn't feel like hate, but also it felt like it was supposed to be hateful, y'know? pretty sure i just deleted it though (i for sure ignored it) 😂

but generally, no. i'm lucky to say that i tend to avoid hate on social media and that includes fanfiction.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i have done and the variety isn't huge but it's there? i guess?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

i have done! beyond the obvious (where shows, etc share worlds), i did a boondock saints/the walking dead one (which was also co-written) because norman reedus stars in both 😂

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i'm aware of?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

again, not that i'm aware of

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes! the aforemention boondock saints/the walking dead fic was co-written on ff.net and i co-wrote (with the same person), a fast and furious fic.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

i lost myself a ton in writing olivia/elliot from svu/organized crime as well as beth/rio from good girls so they'd probably battle it out for top spot.

BUT

if i'm being brutally honest, my all time favourite ever to write were fast and furious ships 😂 especially the OGs (specifically vince and leon) with my OCs (although there were canon ships i loved to write too!). it was just so fun and freeing and i constantly think about it.

(i also loved when i wrote random marvel/mcu pairings, winterwitch was probably my number one for them and again, i think about it a lot)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i think it's unlikely i'll finish a lot but especially a degree of separation. i kind of hate it, i'm so sorry 😭😭😭

16. What are your writing strengths?

the thought of analysing my own writing right now sounds painful but two of the most common nice things people tell me is that: 1) they like how i write dialogue and 2) they like my writing style in general

(but of which i highly appreciate!)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i don't do it enough?

nah. true but seriously, there's a ton, however, i do tend to waffle on and write something in several sentences that could have been just one 😭

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't think i've ever done it? if i have it'll be dialogue or whatever that's already in the show/move/etc

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The Fast and the Furious 🥰

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

still on ao3: it has to be Why don't we go to Venus? but also Knock First which is a Beth/Rio/Original Male Character threesome fic that was SO MUCH fun

no longer posted: a fic for The Fast and the Furious. it was a Vince/OC story. it was so much fun to write and it was one of my most popular back when i was posting on ff.net and i miss this story all the time (even though it's probably awful 😂) and always think about re-writing and posting it again on ao3

Tagging: @conscience-killer @constant-sinner @astarkey @xstrawmari @blainesebastian if ya like! (sorry if you've been tagged before!)

[leedamandy]

Aemond Targaryen x fem!OC (blonde strong) / Aegon II Targaryen x fem!OC (blonde strong)

°• Hēnkirī •°

(Together)

Part 4

                                         •*• Mhaenyra's footsteps echoed through the walls. With her head held high, she walked through the cool corridor. Every now and then, a maid crossed her path, but they quickly averted their eyes from the princess. Frowning, she turned into the corridor leading to her mother's chambers. In front of the heavy door was already a figure shrouded in shadows. Daemon. A slight smile played around his lips as he held the door open for the uncertain girl. Taking a deep breath, she made her way into the room.

"Mother?" The loud click of the lock startled the young woman. Slowly, she walked across the room until she found Rhaenyra behind a privacy screen. "Aemond Targaryen is not good company for you." The heiress to the Iron Throne turned to face her daughter. Mhaenyra did not notice that her eyes widened when she caught sight of her countenance. "He is my uncle, and he is of my blood. Why-" "Do you think he sees it the same way you do? Did you not hear him speak of your brothers?" Her admonishing voice was filled with concern. "Don't be so naive, Mhaenyra. If you want to... want to try things, talk to me. And we'll find a way. But the one you choose is the wrong one." "It was just a ride. On Vaghar. She's the greatest dragon in the world, I just wanted-" "What did you want?" Mhaenyra was silent. She had not expected to receive such a telling off. She knew very well that it had been foolish; she didn't even know Aemond anymore. Many years had passed since the last time they saw each other. However, at no time was she aware of any danger. She had been in control of the situation. At least almost throughout. "I didn't expect you to be so displeased with me spending time with my family." Defended herself the young woman. "'Spending time'?!" Now Rhaenyra sounded angry.

She bridged the distance between herself and the blonde girl and grabbed her by the arm. She pulled her visibly confused daughter along with her, more roughly than she ever had been. She stopped in front of a large, ornate mirror. "Look at yourself, child." Mhaenyra did as she was told and now understood the commotion. Reddish spots adorned her thin neck and stood out clearly against the black of her Cloak and her fair skin. In the reflection, the young Velaryion saw Daemon's furtive smirk. Suddenly it dawned on her why the servants eyed her so strangely as she walked and quickly turned away. She had not thought of that. Embarrassed, Mhaenyra looked away from her own reflection and covered the spots with her hand. "Tell me again, how did you spend your time together? A ride on a dragon's back?" The princess preferred to remain silent. It was true, she had been naive. She had allowed herself to be steered.

When Rhaenyra turned to Daemon with a request, she spoke up again. "Have the maesters prepare a moon tea please." "No. That's not necessary, really." Her mother's worried gaze was on her. "Are you sure?" "Nothing of the sort has happened. I swear to you." Rhaenyra gave her a reassuring smile before hugging her daughter. "We'll talk about it on Dragonstone. Our ship is about to leave." "Now, right now? But-" "Your brothers and you are not safe here. Daemon and I will return to King's landing afterwards." Mhaenyra didn't know herself what kept her in this place. But she did not want to leave it. "No one questions me, mother. No harm will come to me. I want... I want to spend time with my grandfather before he passes away. I promise you, I will stay away from everyone but the king until you both return." Skepticism was in Rhaenyra's gaze as she placed her hand on the girl's cheek.

"Let her stay here. We'll be back soon. And Rhaenys is still in the red keep as well." Daemon had pushed himself off from his place against the wall, and walked slowly toward the two women. The heiress to the throne looked back and forth between her husband and daughter. "We must go." He added with a hint of impatience. Rhaenyra took a deep breath in and out. "Stick to Princess Rhaenys. Ser Oats shall stay with you. Don't get yourself in trouble." "I won't, mother. You have my word." "Good." One last time, Rhaenyra squeezed both of her daughter's hands and pulled her into an embrace once more. Daemon did likewise. "Take care of yourself." He whispered in her ear. With a nod, the Velaryon stepped toward the heavy wooden door. "I wish you a good and pleasant journey." With these words she left her mother's chamber, unaware that so much would happen before they saw each other again. Hurriedly, she made her way to her own private room. "Good night, Ser Oats." She greeted her protector curtly. "Sleep well, Princess." Once inside, she quickly discarded her cloak. As she passed a mirror, her eyes again fell upon the marks on her neck. She studied them insistently, pulling lightly at her skin where a short time ago the prince's lips had rested. A sudden weariness overcame the young woman and she decided to rest for the day.

"You are still here, dear niece. Wasn't your family going to leave us tonight?"

A startled sound left her throat. She was wide awake again.

                                         •*•

Part 5 Part 1

[astrid-sama]

Labyrinth of white roses (Effie trinket x fem oc)

Chapter 1)

The harvest

I wake up with the warmth of the sun's rays caressing my face, it's a rare event, usually if I want to sneak away without anyone seeing me I'm forced to get up when there's still the moon in the sky, at first light dawn in district twelve everyone is already at work; today, however, everyone is exempt from work and people sleep late trying not to think that tonight at least two families will mourn the loss of their children.

Today the annual harvest is held, on this day a boy and a girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen will be chosen from each district to participate in the Hunger Games, a deadly game from which only one tribute will emerge alive. At school we kids are taught that the Hunger Games are there to ensure that the Dark Days are not repeated, in reality they are just another way for the Capitol City to assert their dominion over us.

I get out of bed, put on my hunting clothes, kiss my brother on the forehead being careful not to wake him and leave the house as quietly as possible. I arrive on the main road and after making sure that there is no one around I head towards the fence; during the journey I feel my stomach growling, it is normal to be hungry here in district twelve and that is why every day I leave the fence to go hunting, putting my life at risk, between dying of hunger together with my brother and being hanged for betrayal by the peacekeepers I choose the second, it is the least painful option. At the fence I find my friends Gale and Katniss waiting for me, we have been hunting together for more than four years now; the fence should be electrified but here in the twelve there is almost never electricity, one at a time we crawl under the fence taking advantage of a point where it is damaged. According to the Capitol, the fences surrounding the districts are there to prevent wild animals from attacking us, but I think they're there to keep us locked up.

We enter the woods, retrieve our bows and hide among the vegetation waiting for prey to hunt. After almost an hour we have captured three rabbits and a squirrel, we go to hide our bows in an old hollow trunk and start looking for fruit and medicinal herbs; when we have finished the sun is higher in the sky and it is probably just before midday. Before leaving the woods, Gale, Katniss and I take a break sitting on a rocky ledge.

-Girls look what I have here- Gale takes a loaf of bread out of his bag, it seems warm and fragrant, few people can afford such bread.

-But this is real bread! Gale where did you find him?- Katniss said as she grabs the loaf of bread.

-The baker gave it to me in exchange for a squirrel-

-Just a squirrel?!-

I can't help but wonder, the baker is a good person but usually a squirrel isn't enough for a loaf like that.

-Today is harvest day, we are all better-

Gale divides the loaf between the three of us, we eat in silence until Katniss asks a question.

-How many nominations do you have?-

-Thirtyfive-

-Twentyone-

Under normal circumstances a seventeen year old like me should only have five nominations, I have so many because I was forced to trade them for food; my father became ill when I was twelve and died when I was fourteen, but my mother died soon after my brother was born so I found myself having to support both myself and my brother and was forced to apply several times in exchange for food, Gale and Katniss are in the same situation as me.

A few minutes later we set off to return to the enclosure; once we return to the district we go to the black market to barter: we exchange strawberries with the mayor in exchange for a bag of legumes, we exchange the squirrel for matches. After leaving the black market, Katniss, Gale, and I wish each other good luck and part ways.

When I arrive home I find my brother waiting for me, he is dressed in a pair of green jeans and a white shirt, his long black hair is tied in a braid and his green eyes shine with happiness when he sees me.

-Welcome back big sister, how do I look?-

-Elia you are handsome, I bet you will make everyone fall in love with you-

Elia blushes and looks away.

-Big sister it's almost time for the harvest, you should go and change-

I nod, I go to the bathroom and quickly wash both my body and my hair, after drying my hair with a towel I put on my best dress, a light green dress with small white flowers and finally I put on some old brown boots. Elia insists on tying my black hair in a braid like his, when he's finished we go to the square to take part in the grape harvest.

As soon as we arrived we immediately separated, I joined the seventeen year old girls while my brother joined the fourteen year old boys. After all boys and girls eligible to participate have been registered, the harvest ceremony begins; first of all (like every year) the mayor goes on stage and begins to read a long speech in which he explains how the Hunger Games are our just punishment for having rebelled against the Capitol seventy-three years ago; after what seems like hours the mayor finally concludes his speech and gives way on the stage to the Capitol emissary who has the task of escorting the tributes of district twelve to Capitol City Effie Trinket.

-Welcome to the seventy-third edition of the Hunger Games, may luck always be in your favor-

Effie walks very enthusiastically towards the glass bowl containing the pieces of paper with the girls' names written on them.

-As always ladies first-

Effie slowly dips her hand into the glass bowl, pulls out a piece of paper, and returns to the center of the stage; in the seconds preceding the reading of the name of the tribute there is absolute silence.

-The female tribute from district twelve is.... Selene Davidson-

All the girls turn to look at me, some look at me with pity, others with relief. My hands are shaking, my body seems to have turned to marble and even though I know I should go on stage I can't move.

-Darling come here-

Effie Trinket smiles at me and calls me to the stage. I force myself to move and slowly advance towards the stage; I'm trying to hold back the tears, I can't seem weak. Capitol City is watching me.

-And now the male tribute-

I watch Effie take the piece of paper with the name of the male tribute and hope that the name is neither Elia nor Gale.

-The male tribute from District Twelve is... Alexander Morgan-

Alexander is a fifteen year old boy with curly red hair and a weak physique, you can clearly see how terrified he is; once he gets on stage he starts sobbing.

-Now a big round of applause for our tributes-

Nobody claps their hands, silence is the only act of protest allowed. After the harvest we are taken into the courthouse and given some time to say goodbye to our friends and family. I'm sitting on a velvet sofa when the door opens and Elia comes in, hugs me and starts sobbing with his head resting on my shoulder. For a while we remain hugged without saying anything, then Elia dries his tears and begins to speak.

-Win big sister and come back to me, I know you can do it-

-Elia I-

-No Selene don't say you can't win, you are an expert hunter you know how to use a bow and knives perfectly and you also know both edible and medicinal plants-

-You're right, I promise I will do everything to come back-

I try to sound confident but in reality I don't think I have much chance of returning home, after all what can a weak little girl from district twelve with a bow (if there is a bow) do against a volunteer from district one who weighs twice as much as she. A short time later, peacekeepers arrive and take Elia away and let Gale and Katniss in in his place. We hug each other, resigned to the idea that this will be our last meeting.

-Guys remember the promise we made to each other, don't let Elia die of hunger! Take him with you into the woods, teach him to hunt, please don't abandon him-

Some time ago the three of us had made a pact, if ever one of us was chosen as a tribute the others would be taken care of by his family.

-Don't worry, we'll take care of Elia, you think about winning-

-Certain-

A short time later the peacekeepers took Katniss and Gale away, I was escorted out of the courthouse and taken to the train that would take me to the Capitol City.

This is the first chapter of my fanfiction "Labyrinth of white roses", I will publish all the chapters of the fanfiction on Ao3 with the name "Labyrinth of white roses".

These are my fanfiction characters created with artificial intelligence:

Selene

Elia

Alexander

[oh-saints]

sunshine becomes you (pt. 2)

Despite his young age, Martin's the captain for the Arsenal for a reason. He's calm and collected most of the time and opponents rarely could ever entice any provoking display of emotion from him. But there's one person in London Colney that rubs him in all the wrong way... yet he wants to help her?

Grumpy!Martin Ødegaard x Sunshine!OC

Word count: 3.5k

Note: turns out i can't put the words into 2-part stories so here we go, it's turning into a mini series! (is this a good news for you, odegirlies?) but it won't be longer than 5-part, though, as i'm working on the ending as we speak. oh and beware of the dialogues that's spiking in number than in pt. 1. but as usual, i happen to write this at dawn so this is ofc not proof-read. feedbacks are also always welcome! hope you like them as much as i like writing them!

sunshine becomes you masterlist here

Tags: @julianalvarez9 @notleclerc <3 (lemme know if you want to be included!)

“Eve,”

The owner of the name jumped in her seat. “Martin.”

You must’ve thought Martin officially helping Eve would melt the ice as big as the Antarctica between them? No, not a chance.

No matter how many times Martin had graced the front desk with his presence—of which the the amount had increased significantly by a grand total of two times since their first ever conversation a while ago—Eve couldn’t shake off the feeling of being surprised.

Probably because she was, considering Martin always dropped by in times she least expected him to. And considering the fact they didn’t share any other interaction during the same length of time between their monumental event—as she liked to call the first time Martin had spoken to her—and present.

Yes, unfortunately Martin had resorted back to his old habit of shrugging off her morning greetings, and she didn’t know what and how else to engage him without revealing their secret plan.

Maybe she’d hoped for the stars. But in all honesty, she didn’t expect Martin to go full on bright replying her like Bukayo always did—a small smile would be more than enough, considering where and how far Martin and Eve had come from.

Maybe he was sticking true to his part of this plan of theirs. They did agree that their first—and last—appearance at the Christmas party would be a surprise nobody could’ve seen coming. If he did concede to Eve’s signature good morning in front of Louisa, the building would’ve sniffed the bloody smell in less than 15 minutes.

“I’ve got another package.”

“Ah, yeah, just in time,” At this point, Eve was already a master in hiding her disappointed expression that Martin still considered her as nothing more than mailbox. “Another one for Martin Odellson. Quite a creative name, by the way.”

“Glad you think my way of evading stalker’s creative,” Martin didn’t smile much, especially around her, but maybe it was for the best. The small tug on the corner of his lips became so much valuable than it was. “Where’s Louisa?”

“She’s off early today, sick and all,” Eve handed him the form to sign and his package beside them. “Why’d you ask?”

No, nope. She swore to God she’d asked purely out of curiosity, not because she’d wondered what she hadn’t done that earned Louisa of Martin’s acknowledgement before Eve ever did, despite being half a year being Louisa’s senior.

“Good riddance, then,” Eve couldn’t believe her ears of Martin’s words. That’d got to be the vilest sentence that came out from the good captain’s mouth, bar the things he spitted to express his exasperation on the pitch. “How’s the dress I sent you? It fits you fine, I take it?”

Right, the evening gown that shocks me to the very last of particles. “Yeah, about that…”

Martin hummed, encouraging her to continue, as his hands moved to curve his signature on the form.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you that.”

The Norwegian finished off the last cursive as he pointed her another blank look. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because I don’t know how to get a hold of you without being suspected by everyone in this building and their mothers?” Oh, it felt so good to throw back Martin’s Mr-Know-It-All look for once. “Have you ever thought of it that way?”

But Martin didn’t slip on his feet. The captain threw the same amount of isn’t-obvious look to her. “You have my phone number.”

“Wait, I can text you?”

Eve was meaning to throw him some sarcastic reply but Martin genuinely didn’t think much of it. “Why do you think you can’t?”

“You don’t exactly give off the vibe that I can,” How dare he rolls his eyes at me now?! “About the gown, though. I’m afraid I’ll have to return them to you.”

“Why, it doesn’t fit you or something?” He shifted his weight away from his left leg, his head leaning to the same direction in confusion. “Do I get your size wrong?”

Eve really couldn’t fathom that look, that very look of pure confusion plastered all over his face. As if she was acting strange, as if it didn’t concern him for once that he’d get hold of her size without asking Eve herself.

The last one, though—she promised herself to ask him next time. “No, but it’s Oscar de La Renta.”

“And?”

“And? And?” Martin had to steer his head away five inches back, due to the outburst. “That gown costs my entire arm!”

“But I’m sure you look beautiful in it.”

No will look, no going to. As if it was the present, the long withstanding fact.

Eve had to give it to Martin if this was the game he always plays with whomever he’s romantically involved in. He played his cards with the minds of Mikel Arteta and the face of a poker player. “Well, that’s—”

“You don’t deny it so I must be right,” Eve could sigh in resignation. She didn’t know Martin could be stone-headed, but then her knowledge of him was rather limited. “I don’t see the reason to return them to me, then.”

“But it makes me feel cheap, okay?” Eve let out another deep breath because while the sentence carried out a heavy weight, somehow talking to Martin—as much as she hated spelling it out for his clueless self—made it better. “Like you pay me for acting well.”

Martin let out a breath that was borderline scoffing, and Eve decided she didn’t like it one bit. “You know that is never my intention, Eve. Never, you hear me? You think of it too much,”

And before the gaping mouth of hers could produce another sound, Martin shut her down. “You feel like that because you let yourself think that way. Me, on the other hand, is helping you gather whatever’s dignity stolen from you because I want to,”

Eve had to hold back an audible gasp when Martin’s eyes zeroed back at her, and she—for a stupid, split moment—thought how his opponents didn’t cower under his stare. It felt so intense, so… intimate, too, in their case. As if one word from her would shatter the thin bubble they were in.

“If it’s any help, no one deserves to be treated the way Bob did to you. I can’t stand that, regardless who they are,” But the smile etched in his face didn’t fade at all, resembling him to the Joker on a mission. “You just happen to be someone I’m well-acquainted of.”

And there it was.

Well-acquainted of.

As if he didn’t just make her feel beautiful before the word came crashing down on her.

“If it makes you feel better about it, you can always pay it back.”

Martin really didn’t get the memo to leave her alone for a minute, did he?

“It’d take me a thousand years to pay you back,” Eve couldn’t help but to roll her eyes this time around. “Not everyone earns a hundred thousand pounds a week, Martin.”

“Then do me a favour, since I’ve done one,” The eagerness in his eyes didn’t dim for a second, hands now placed on the desk between them. The determination Eve could notice as he leaned in was actually a sight to be held—if he grazed the grass a bit here—and she could understand why the rest of the team was willing to fight alongside him and Mikel. “Let someone take care of you for a night,”

Eve didn’t bother to let the gasp escape her lips.

“Let me do that for you, at least, as my parting gift.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

Eve so officially hated Martin Ødegaard.

Martin had texted her a couple of hours just before he was supposed to pick her up, that he couldn’t do the first part of the charade a.k.a the red carpet, because he had to do all the media duties for Christmas week and pre-party stuffs. Eve knew it was his obligation as a well-loved player but good God, they were supposed to come to the party together, not just being seen together. Why didn’t he finish those things before tonight, anyway?

Well, the good old Norsk insisted it was going to look better on her because they would swoop everyone more speechless than they intended before hanging up on her.

How was she supposed to tell him that a big part of her confidence, especially when wearing this overpriced peace of clothing, came from having him near her?

Everyone had been complimenting how good she looked with the gown or how fantastic the colour complimented her complexion, but Eve couldn’t help but still feel like a fraud. She might be thanking them in honesty but when Martin joined her later, nothing that came out of her mouth would be genuine, nothing more than a set of practiced lies she and Martin had planned beforehand. She wasn’t good at lying at the first place, adding the reason why she so badly needed her partner-in-crime to be here with her.

Relax, Eve. No one knows you’re here with Martin yet, which means you’re still not lying to anyone yet, she said to herself. She sounded more like she hypnotised herself at this point but she didn’t care anymore. She wanted to take a revenge on her heartbreak without feeling too much guilt eating her from inside out.

“I don’t recall you being invited here,” Oh, speaking of the devil, complete in flesh and blood. “Who’s your link?”

“I don’t recall they can let in a piece of jerk inside,” Don’t look at him, Eve. You’re much stronger than that. “Who’s your link?”

“You don’t answer my question.”

She still didn’t spare him a look, no matter how much her eyes caught on his movements. “It’s a question that doesn’t deserve an answer.”

Bob scoffed, the very one that he gave when he felt oh so superior. Eve realised now that he used to give her the same kind so much when they were dating. “You know we’ll find out soon enough, don’t you?”

“Certainly not from me,” Eve was so ready to puke at the sight of him, she’d never hated Martin more than now for not blocking her direct view of this scumbag. “You know how much I hate giving attention to any attention seeker.”

Before Bob could retaliate Eve’s attack, a familiar warmth stepped in beside her. “I’m sorry I’m late, Angel.”

On any other circumstances, Martin’s hand slithering its way on Eve’s back and his lips touching the side of her head would definitely give her a stroke. This time, knowing she’d have him on her side for the rest of the night, was turning to warm all over her body with a familiar sense of security. Probably an abundance of comfort, too—not that she’d tell him that now.

But at least, she let him know how relieved she was that he was now here with her as they shared looks when he continued, “Media duties, you know?”

Martin welcomed the underlying gratefulness from Eve and smiled at the tiniest form of communication only two of them understood. Oh, so much had changed the past weeks between them—she took a mental note to treat him something of his liking with her severance pay for understanding her without words.

Eve shot him back a smile, this time her eyes followed by a teasing glint and he somehow knew she was in to kill the man bothering her. “Oh, how would I know, really? I mean, this is my first rodeo having a footballer boyfriend.”

Martin’s smile widened at her unprecedented choice of words to jab the frozen ex-boyfriend they both unanimously and silently decided to ignore. “Then I shall show you what you’ve been missing on, baby.”

“Fancy seeing you here, Martin.”

If it wasn’t because of the music, her ex-boyfriend would certainly not miss the deep growl Martin unconsciously let out overlaying the deep sigh.

“Ah, yes, Bob. I see you haven’t lost your inner arsehole,” Martin smiling when he didn’t mean it was the scariest kind of Martin, Eve had come to realise. “Was he bothering you at all, Angel?”

Eve knew they were only spitting their rehearsed line but she could see Martin’s eyes were blazing with real fire burning, even though he didn’t spare her a glance—heck, he was busy sizzling Bob down. She could only hope she wouldn’t be at the other end of that stare, ever.

“Angel?”

Martin didn’t need to look back at Eve to know the answer to that; her head shaking lightly against his suit was enough of an answer. Which relieved him because he hated going to the media duties, knowing he’d leave her exposed for anyone to see at the party.

“Good,” As a result of his dangerous thought, he pulled Eve closer by the waist, hating more at the possible number of men trying to talk her out of here before he came. “I’d hate to break some legs on this beautiful night.”

“I didn’t know you’re together.”

“I don’t see the reason to tell the whole world I’m dating someone else,” Eve had been waiting all week for Martin to throw any punchline—he’d spoilt her with his discreet desire to verbally punch him since physical brawl isn’t allowed—at Bob for bringing his mistress to the physio internal party. “You see, that’s the difference between being truly famous and trying to be popular with the crowd. We’d like to keep most of our matters private.”

Sweet mama. Eve was starting to not regret having Martin as her date. No one else delivered those lines with such precision without having to literally look Bob from head to toe in disgust—his own fame and achievement had already done it for him.

“But I thought you—”

“Why are you surprised anyway? Are you starting to regret dumping her now she’s with me?”

Their script didn’t go as far as this phase, should they encounter Bob confronting Eve. But damn, Eve couldn’t stop marvelling how Martin sounded protective of her. Like they were real.

Which was a very dangerous thought, she had to add in bold.

“Don’t you ought to say thank you to me for dumping her?”

Martin might not show it in his face but he was seething with anger at merely the sight of this guy. Now he had the nerve to say that? If it wasn’t because of Eve’s hand traveling on his back, bringing him down to Earth where Eve was there with him and the last thing he’d like to do was to embarrass her, he would’ve definitely started a brawl. Consequences be damned. “You should be the one thanking me for not pursuing her from the very first day I came to the club. Now, will you excuse us because I’d like my girlfriend to meet people I care about.”

Eve’s heart took another deep plunge to the trench for reasons she was confused herself. Was it because how proud she was of Martin showing who was the boss or for was it because how natural the word ‘girlfriend’ rolled out of his tongue?

Eve took another mental note to tell Martin slow down with the whole couple thing or she might fall into the same deception everyone else received from their acts tonight.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

The outcome of the altercation between Martin and Eve’s ex-boyfriend, despite the captain trying to handle it low and classy, was that the entire room was reduced to silence.

Some were astounded at how Martin could lose control over his temper outside the pitch. Some others were more astonished at the sight of Martin coming to Eve’s aid—with a side kiss, mind you!—when the entire Emirates Stadium at this point that Martin had never brushed shoulder with the woman during his stint in Arsenal’s shirt so far.

Eve could feel herself slowly shrinking under everyone’s prying eyes because it was totally overwhelming for someone who had always been a fan of Arsenal, not the other way around. Unlike Martin, whom everyone and their mothers idolised.

“Breathe, Angel,” Eve even jumped at Martin’s whisper, as he led her towards their table with a gentle nudge feathering across her open back, because none of this was what she signed up for. She only agreed to steal the thunder from Bob and the wench, not to direct the spotlight to her. “You’re doing great.”

She hissed under her breath, “How on Earth could you play in a full-packed stadium?!”

“Let them be,” Martin maneuverer her from his left to his right, hands still placed firmly on her hips, bar the subtle movement of back and forth towards her belly to slightly ease her nerves. “I have the prettiest gem of all, after all.”

Martin must be talking about someone else.

“Don’t blame me if I puke on your expensive shoes.”

The free, unfiltered laughter from Martin left Eve in a further bewildered state it left her breathless. For his entire facial features lit up in the way the lighting above was only able to pronounce them more beautifully than usual. “Then talk to me, what are you thinking now?”

“Angel?” Now that they were seated for the formal charity gala that was about to start, along with the rest of the leadership team, Eve could finally confront the one thing that had been bothering her so far into the night. “Really, Martin?”

Martin slid his arm behind her, perching comfortably on top of the chair, as if he’d done it a thousand times before. Like everything in this setting was his habitat, and Eve tried to tone down the shudder than ran on her back at the thought Martin was cunning as the con-artist Eve had expected to save her arse the first time he’d offered his help.

But at that precise point, Eve could care less about the remaining of their table. She couldn’t look away at the crease he made due to his movement of leaning in too close to her, the shirt hugging his body deliciously perfectly. The music in the background could swallow their conversation anyway.

“Your name’s Evangeline, no?”

Martin’s tone wasn’t challenging but the glint on his eyes teasingly said the otherwise. I’d like to see you try, those Nordic Ocean blue eyes said, and she had no other choice but to fall deep down the abyss. “It is—”

 “Then why fight me?”

“Because nobody calls me like that.”

“Exactly why I’m calling you that,” Martin loved getting a reaction out of a flustered Eve, so he did just that. He leaned in, so much closer to her she could sniff his perfume, and my God was it more intoxicating than the expensive champagne rolled in every minute. “What kind of boyfriend am I to call you like everyone else? Where’s the speciality card for the boyfriend?”

Eve stiffened at his charge; her mind went white all of the sudden. “How do you know my full name, by the way?”

Martin couldn’t help but smirk at her futile attempt to hide her nervousness. “I know a lot more about you than you think I do.”

There went Eve’s existence, dissolved into the air at Martin’s words. She should really gather herself before she went down the drain that Martin had—rather on false pretense, on top of that—been leading her. Think, Eve! Think of something! You cannot succumb to the pressure! “Ugh, how can beat that nickname? It can’t get more original than yours.”

Martin actually laughed from her futile attempt to hide her flustered self. “I’d like to see you try, solskinn.”

*solskinn means “sunshine” in norwegian. but cmiiw.