#oh i like iz oc's

[epickiya722]

Seeing someone say they hope Gege gets hit by a car and others going "good" because he's sick was just... look, hate or love the story but it's extreme to wish harm on some guy over FICTION.

You know, one reason why some people stop creating is because people do shit like that.

Imagine being someone who writes a fic and someone comments how they wish harm on you. OVER WORDS. THAT THEY DIDN'T HAVE TO READ.

Ridiculous, isn't it?

[v1p0]

Random sketches part 2: Kipo and @keivtev ‘s Neek version.

[echthr0s]

You know what would be cool? If frequent exposure to Reaper frequencies infected the Normandy the way whatever was on the other side of the black hole infected the Event Horizon. This low-level radiation doesn't indoctrinate, it's not strong enough to do that, but it does make the crew... weird. Maybe the other biotics on board feel their powers are stronger but wilder. Maybe crew members hear strange things, have strange dreams, feel their senses warp and expand. Maybe they all wake up during unspace travel, the timeless spaceless jump from one mass relay to the next, and they feel themselves stretch and shrink, darkle and tinct, and the feeling of it is beyond terror and beyond joy.

Meanwhile, Adrian Shepard, who has been living like this his entire life, is just like, "Yeah, the time knife, we've all seen it, sll'ha syha'h and so on, ya kadishtu but right now we've got a meeting with Hackett in five minutes so pull yourselves together."

[stardusted-petals]

Anyway now that I'm back in my Invader Zim phase, I've made a new baby!

Some info about her under the cut!

Age: 12

Gender: Female (she/her pronouns)

Faye is a bubbly, creative and observant girl who moved into the area recently, and becomes a new student at the Skool (very original, I know). She's an aspiring author who likes to write paranormal, horror, and romance fiction, developed an interest in urban legends and the paranormal due to the research she's done for her stories, and she becomes Dib's new bestie who helps him try to take down Zim.

She also loves dogs and, despite knowing good and well that he's not really a dog, inadvertently befriends GIR after making a fuss over how cute she finds him. She knows not to let him follow her home or tell him anything about Dib, but otherwise isn't complaining about that development!

Some other little notes:

Her hobbies/skills include writing and reading stories, researching the paranormal, crafts and DIY. She also hangs out in graveyards sometimes, because she finds them relaxing to be in.

She favourite animal is cats - she has several plushies of them, and her backpack is pink with cat ears.

She has an older sister named Tia. Although they bicker often, Tia's always looking out for Faye, and is currently worried that Dib is a bad influence on her. I haven't fully figured out her design yet, but I'll draw her someday I'm sure

[hazbincalifornia]

I'm getting a comm of my sonic oc ship and I just realized that Clove and Devi both share something in common- spoiled kids with at least one powerful royal parent who only learns that their entitlement to a relationship/'owning' a person is going to end with them alone and unhappy unless they shape up when they fuck up one of the most important relationships that they have.

Devi, serial dater and chronically incapable of ever seeing herself as the bad guy because the world clearly revolves around her, chases after Timber, ace demiromo dude who grows to like her as a friend. Her crush on him grows until she forces a kiss on him, and he cuts her off until she realizes she screwed up. It takes years after that for him to like her back.

Clove, meanwhile, purposefully lures Kit in with flirting because he sees Kit's soul as just a trophy and not, y'know, his soul, but finds himself catching feelings, and when he takes Kit's soul realizes he's tied himself to someone who obviously feels horribly used, even though Clove wants them to still be together/friends at the end of the day. That takes quite a while to work out.

[iznsfw]

Lucid Dream

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 7 - Kim Minju

IZ*ONE's Kim Minju x Male Reader Smut

8,525 words

Categories | married man!You, wife!Wonyoung, daddy kink, degradation, rough sex, OC is not a good person

Content warning | cheating, humiliation, Wonyoung slander (it hurt to write but I read "Gone Girl" by Gillian Flynn recently so I guess that went into the whole wife-hating thing)

Skipping again a bit (still will do Chaeyeon and Chaewon and everyone because IZ*ONE best girls). Expect a commission and an IZ Days of Xmas fics this month again <3 I love you all, you make me happy. And as always, sorry for the inconsistency!

Wonyoung is beautiful.

You stare at her as she undresses in front of the full-length mirror. She’s the kind of woman whose vanity seldom rolls eyes because her adoration for herself—smoothing down her dark hair, strictly adhering herself to that keto diet, doing her skincare with the dedication of one who prays nightly to god (pick any)—is wholly justifiable. Look at her. Anyone would understand.

The dress she wore for her hosting show slips off her body. Her abs reflect in the mirror, the result of hard work in the gym. Wonyoung’s waist is impeccable. Magazines have written over and over tips to attain it but it seems that the signature Bratz doll feature can only belong to Wonyoung. The makeup was cleaned up by her stylist but her eyes still shine, her lashes are still long, and her lips are still plump.

Wonyoung is standing there in nothing but her underwear, an attractive set of lace. 

Wonyoung is the perfect female form, a goddess from above choosing a man from below.

Wonyoung is beautiful, a feat that no matter how amazing besides true, she remains the same old fucking bore.

“Did you like my MCing, babe?” she asks.

“Uh-huh.”

Her legs, long and thin, move in planned strides down the room. To the bed. You know where this is going.

Your feet are killing you. Recline, welcoming yourself into the softness of the expensive mattress and pillows your wife paid for all in all. “Wonyoung, I’m tired.” 

She’s a celebrity. Of course, endless days filled to the edge with schedules chase after her. She ought to understand. The nights are her only rest hours, yet with this energy, it’s like Jang Wonyoung never gets exhausted. Always bubbly, always sweet, always so seductive. 

All these are positive traits that any other man would adore and own had you not married her. 

Wonyoung makes an adorable sigh. “But you say that everytime,” she replies sullenly.

She’s pushing her lips out into this cute pout while her brown puppy eyes beg you to give in like you used to. Once upon a time, you were putty around Wonyoung. Never could give an answer without your voice shaking. Never could come near her without blushing. 

She’s the prettiest woman in the world.

You’re the most awful, undeserving man in the world, for all you could think, as you look at her, is: Fucking bitch. 

“Well, maybe it’s because I’m always tired.”

“How about,” she puts a finger on her chin, “I do the job for you?”

Her knees are bruised. You notice this when she drops to them so she could pull your pants to the ground. So she’s been doing this for so long? Lowering herself for you? Sucking you off? You thought that she’d get the hint by now: you don’t want to have sex with her.

So instead, she uses her mouth. Better than her pussy anyway. What are you saying? She’s a tight woman. But it’s the same thing everyday: she gets on your cock and you hear her annoying voice straining as she rides you. Her cunt, soaked and useless, makes you want to call her its name. She’s always needy. It isn’t flattering when you don’t reciprocate it.

It’s a goddamned chore. Wonyoung’s throat welcomes you. The other way around, actually: your cock welcomes a claustrophobically closed passageway and has to deal with it until you cum. It’s an unwanted visitor. She rang the bell, said hi, and you let her in. Doesn’t mean you like her there.

“Doing so good, baby,” you say. Oh, yeah, doesn’t mean you mean it either—although you do feel Wonyoung smile happily. She’s happy when she makes you happy. When she makes you give her the illusion that you have any happiness in this worn-out marriage.

Her lips seal around you. You can feel them suckling. Your knees are tense. The moans are forced, though. Hearing them come out from your own mouth makes you want to place a pillow over your face and press it down as hard as you can.

She slides you down her throat. Admittedly, you love the way she chokes. Her eyes get all watery, like she’s crying from pain. That sounds appealing. 

You’re a critically messed up man, you know. But they’re what make the world go ‘round. Why do you think they write romance books about them—the bad boy, the mafia boss, the killer? Plus, one of those “terrible” people inspires the biggest Korean celebrity to continue hosting, dancing, and singing. So who’s so terrible now?

To conclude, if anything, you’re the one responsible for Wonyoung’s success.

To conclude, you groan as desperately as you can then release in her mouth. Wonyoung gags. Another pretty sound. Her eyes look up while she attempts to swallow. Saliva sticks to her chin. Semen floods up to the roof of her mouth. It reminds you of how it ends up there more often than in her womb.

You would’ve made beautiful children with Wonyoung in another world where she wasn’t famous and you actually loved her. You would have been a softer, kinder man. She would have been a person who’s easier to love and make love with.

“Wonyoung, Wonyoung, that… was incredible.”

If you weren’t a director, you’d be the one on camera. You’re a great actor when it comes to your wife. Your incompetence in the house is masked by husbandly exhaustion; an artificial gaze of attentiveness hides your indifference to conversation. 

She smiles coquettishly. “I try.”

The wide closet parts. She chooses a pair of silk pajamas that hang around her thin frame. She climbs onto the bed and wraps an arm around you. Her skin is always cold to the touch. Like she’s dead or something. How interesting.

You stroke her hair. “I’d return the favor but… I’m actually gonna pass out. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She kisses your forehead. Wonyoung’s a sweet girl. “Good night.”

You smile. Say it back. Her eyelids flutter closed. Her palms are flat against each other and are placed under her cheek. Cute, you guess. She sleeps. 

You don’t. 

You should have—nothing good ever happens after midnight.

-

2:05 a.m., more specifically.

-

Amazing how time slips through your grasp like air. You reach and reach, desperate for a return, desperate for a flash to the past. As always, your efforts aren’t fruitful. The seconds pour through the pinched waist of the hourglass and you can’t stand it on its other head. You’re unable to revert back to the moment you took your arm from underneath your wife’s skull. The moment you opened your phone. If you hadn’t, maybe things would have been different.

But it’s past two, and you’re resting your back on the pillowy headboard with your phone in your hands. The circumstances just play right into danger: Wonyoung’s asleep, the night is eerily quiet, and the screen is there, awaiting the secret routine. Which girls would you cum for today? Why aren’t your thumbs clicking over censored sites?

Your feed shows a naked woman, her eyes staring up and her mouth wide. Scroll past that—you prefer the amateur videos, where the expressions balance between exaggerated and naturally provoked. A ton of videos could help in the bathroom where you take your nightly “shower,” and it’s not one of those.

Maybe you need the real thing.

Look at Wonyoung. Perhaps you should have let her ride you just so you could cum in a warm pussy again. After all, it’s the least you could do when you were once a fan of her. That’s how everyone starts: puppy-like adoration. But she doesn’t have the star quality she once did onstage; the coy thoughtful princess you envisioned her as. That’s why you haven’t fucked her in weeks. 

You’re about to wrap your hand around your cock and ready yourself for another night of conflicted pleasure. This video is perfect for that already. You could jerk yourself off then get a good night’s sleep. Simple. This is the safest option for a dangerous want. By just watching, you’re not cheating on your wife. It’s just porn. Jerk off, cum, cum again probably, then sleep. Nobody gets hurt.

“Fuck me… please,” whimpers the woman in the video. Her legs are spread open. Her partner’s swiping his cock at her lips while she looks at him with equal hunger, equal desire. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Then, a text message notifies you, peeking from the top of your screen. It dares you to click it.

And it says the exact same thing.

fuck me please, i cant take it anymore. 

i miss you 

You look around, like you’re afraid someone might see it. There’s only the dimness of your bedroom that greets you. It’s safe, but this message isn’t. 

The number is familiar. Has one of your friends gone crazy? Or did they send a text to the wrong person? Take it for spam, a perfectly coincidental one, or a scam, a typical, preying-on-the-married, pwning message.

But why would a contact spam you at a time so strangely perfect?

Don’t bother. Your fist works on your dick as you watch the video. The woman’s so wet that although she isn’t squirting, her juices start to stick to the man’s thighs. Her mouth is wide open as he finally pounds her. 

What you’d give to have good sex like that again. 

XXX-XXX-XXX sent a video message.

Fine. Click it, you’re curious.

Oh, so apparently, the answer is your marriage.

The video shows a face that’s more intimate than familiar. The ebony-black hair already tells you who she is, as does her body. Her form is encased in a floral tank top and nothing else. Although her chest is covered, she’s still a little daring with how her nipples stamp the fabric. She turns herself around to let you admire the curve of her wide hips and her round butt.

There’s only one woman with a body so perfect. And she’s the one and only Kim Minju.

There are reasons for everything. This is yours for why you didn’t give this number a name: 

No one needs to know just from a text that you cheated on Jang Wonyoung.

That was so long ago, back when you were still boyfriend and girlfriend. You were drunk and missed Wonyoung’s old self. Why did she have to be such a bitch? Why did she dedicate herself to work and leave you dry? It’s not like the industry would go bankrupt without her. Minju came over, listened to your complaints—every little whine about Wonyoung being busy, every little jab at her workaholic character—then said something along the lines of, why don’t you have a little fun while she’s away. 

And you thought… yeah, that was a really great idea. 

That was the beginning of the end. After multiple secret meet-ups and raunchy sex in alleyways, you didn’t contact Minju again. You forgot her. You thought she did, too. She should have understood that your infidelity, albeit alluring, would be a thing of the past. 

But here she is, in your messages, with a pornographic clip of herself in a round-cornered bubble. She’s waiting for a reply. 

Although you’ve long lost your aspirations to be a better husband, you type what a good man should. This man is proper, faithful, and loving. He loves his wife only and the only other people he loves with this deep of a bond is his family. 

Stop texting me or I’ll block you. 

It’s not enough. You’re not a good man. You aren’t proper or faithful or loving or any of that shit. You were about to masturbate to an internet celebrity after turning down sex with your wife. What about that makes you a good person?

:( you miss me sooooo bad it’s pathetic, Minju replies.

You look at her again. You may not be able to turn back time with your metaphorical hourglass, but you can turn this hourglass body into any position you want. You could push her against a window for all to see, perhaps fuck her to the floor, or slam her on a desk like a teacher would to a test paper. Minju would let you do anything to her.

Stop it.

She really has to. As much as you dislike Wonyoung, she’s your wife, and you vowed on your wedding day to only have eyes for her. 

But you’re only one man against a body like Minju’s that curves in every right place.

Three circles float up and down in a contained bubble before she texts you back:

alright…what a pity :( i’m already outside!! i guess ill have to go back…

You’ve never bolted out of bed so fast. 

You look back at Wonyoung as you stand in the doorway. She’s still in deep slumber. Now, are the curtains closed? The entrances locked? Scan the house thoroughly, until you inch your way to the front door. 

Hesitate. You didn’t know you had a conscience but here it is. It tells you to wonder if Minju really is behind it, like she said. She knows how to use the privilege of being Wonyoung’s close friend. That’s how she came to your house like she used to with no worry for paparazzi or suspicion. Best friends don’t fuck their best friends’ husbands, right?

Open the door. This one did.

Minju grew more beautiful in her absence. Her hair is silkier this time and her shy smile is brighter. The long coat is smoothed by her fingers, and you wish you could be the brown piece of fabric her pale hands run down. What makes you guilty for thinking it, even when you’ve done it, is the fact that she looks so innocent. It’s like it would be a crime to even buy her a drink. 

How could she be innocent with that photo she sent? The time you spent together: you folding her over a table and promising to fill her up? Fucking her while Wonyoung is busy and counting on you to welcome her home? Sending nudes like there’s no tomorrow? Nothing about Minju is pure, yet she acts like she could do no wrong.

“Minju,” you say. Your voice sounds fragile. She has a way of breaking you befote you’re breaking her into breaking another bed. 

She blinks theatrically. Everything she does is angelic. “Glad you opened the door.”

The knob is cold in your fist. It chills your animalistic brain and urges you to consider the consequences. Right, it says, here’s what a human—a good one—would think. If Wonyoung wakes and sees you with Minju, she’d have a lot of questions. If paparazzi are somehow hiding in the forest that extends to acres before your house, everyone would know you’re cheating on her. Most of all, you’re married, monogamy and everything. 

So what will it be? This is your last and only chance to send her away.

You know what you have to do. Take a few breaths. “You have to leave. I’m not joking, it isn’t right.”

In response, Minju unravels the ribbon of the layers sealed around her waist. It falls apart. You do, too.

She’s a real danger. As it turns out, the girl isn’t wearing anything underneath that trench coat. She’s an artist’s naked muse—bare long legs, wide hips, and a sizable bust that has sculptors carving something else.

The cold hardens her pink nipples. You notice how her breasts are much bigger than your wife’s. How her hips are more tempting to grab, so you do. How her body is meatier, a lot more enticing that you wouldn’t refuse a day without touching it.

Minju fuels your infidelity, and you won’t stop for it if it kills you.

She simpers, fingers curling into your work shirt. “Still wanna make me leave,” she asks, “when you can breed me all night long?”

You laugh, huffing it out as you pull her inside and close the door behind her. Minju looks gorgeous pressed to it. She looks gorgeous in whatever situation, actually. Her thighs squish against the carved design and look thicker as a result. More reasons to dive into that shaven cunt and abuse it.

“You’re not leaving until we make a fucking mess, Minju.” You take your shirt off. Throw it on the ground. “And we better make it quick.”

“Of course.” She nods. She’s slyer than a fox, but she submits to you without a second thought.

You lean in to kiss her. The heat is unbearable. You can feel it from Minju’s body transferring to yours. It’s the effect of her natural skills as your personal slut: trying to fit her tongue deeper in your mouth while you pull her close like she’d dare to run away. 

You haven’t gotten this hard for anyone else. It’s always been Minju you fall for. You miss the way she kisses, the way she roams her hands all over your torso, the way she’s goddamned insatiable. Feeling it all now in one, heated moment makes you dizzy. You’re taking in too much of her, but without her, you’d go thirsty again. 

Your fingers are in her hair; hers are on your waist. Your teeth are clamped down on Minju’s bottom lip; hers are apart and allow soft moans to pass through—one, two, three. You fit each other in so many wicked ways. They did say misery loves company.

Open your eyes. The dream doesn’t stop. Minju’s still pushing her mouth in your face and you’re letting her. You don’t know if you ought to be relieved or downright horrified. You’re cheating on Wonyoung again with a woman whose body is just a bit nicer. You should be furious at yourself. You aren’t.

You’ve made out with each other on the way to the dining room. You and your wife worked hard for its designed walls and sturdy, well-furnished ornaments. A lot of money was raked out to make this house the best place to call home. So, why do you want to ruin it?

Well, because of her.

Minju leans on the dining table with a funny smile on her face. “She really doesn’t do it for you, huh?” she asks.

It makes you wince how you know who she’s talking about. Who else is she referring to other than poor Wonyoung? Poor, skinny, ugly Wonyoung?

Nibble at her earlobe. Hear little gasps come out of her. “Don’t talk about her,” you say.

You don’t want to have any afterthoughts about fucking Minju. Besides, being reminded that you’re disloyal to a woman who loves you very much is painful, even to a man like you.

Wonyoung is an angel. Minju isn’t—but you run after her to darkness.

“Ohh, come on, I know I’m better than her.” Minju squirms with erotic moans. Your kisses are going south, and she loves their little detour. “You don’t fuck her like you fuck me.”

When was the last time you worshiped Wonyoung? Like what you’re doing to Minju now? Your lips haven’t passed over it in ages that you probably wouldn’t know where the bigs and smalls of her body are. Like there’s anything to know. 

“Actually,” you snort, “I don’t fuck her at all.”

You stop chuckling. That was the wrong thing to say. That was the wrongest thing to say out of the millions of other cocky phrases you could’ve thrown to Minju. The look on her face, the one that’s of pride and submission and dangerous knowledge united, tells you to watch your mouth. 

You’re five seconds minimum too late to listen. 

Minju grins. There’s the answer she wanted. “That’s how it is? Just looking at a girl and thinking you wanna stamp a divorce approval on her forehead? Jesus. This is why I never got married.”

“First off, nobody put a ring on you because you’re a slut, Minju.”

“That’s only the third reason.” Her fingers drape the sides of your face and tugs you in. You’re invited to the sight of her infallible tits. “These are the first two.”

The girl isn’t as busty as that woman Wonyoung likes to call her industry mom, but you bet they’re better. No, it’s a matter of truth. Minju’s boobs aren’t too big or too small; just the perfect, filling size to hold onto when you’re railing her from behind.

You choose to suck on them for now. It’s like a trip down memory lane when you kiss down her neck and collarbone. You remember how good her smooth, soft skin feels beneath you, how her moans are a favorite tune. Minju bites her lip while you do so to her shoulder.

It’s crazy to think that she just so happened to be born with this. She was born to be a pretty face with a sex-defined body that you pull and push and pry apart. Best thing is, she’ll lay back down and beg for more. It’s like she knows her purpose, which would’ve shot down her dignity and humanity.

Her nipple pops in your mouth. Your sucking guarantees its hardness, and Minju starts whining. She arcs her body, wanting something rougher. Thus, you seize the span of her hip to rub her pearl with fierce speed.

“Oh, fuck, god—” What others might take for blasphemy, you take for praise. Minju’s already soaking wet. She would have had embarrassing laundry to do if she wore panties. Maybe it’s a good thing she arrived wearing nothing.

She’s still so sensitive. You caress her clit after a few kisses down her midriff. She fidgets needily like you aren’t already touching her. You’re nearly right—this touch is nothing when she needs something harsher. That something involves you treating her less than a human being, putting her down and tearing at her hair. 

“Please just fuck me,” she whispers. “Breed me, breed me, breed me—”

Yeah, that’s what she wants.

You don’t need further motivation, not when you’re presented with the prettiest pussy you’ve ever seen. Her fat lips are soaked. They frame the clitoris you’ve been stimulating that shines with slick. Then there’s the tiniest hole below it that begs to be used.

Your digits shove past all tightness. Her wetness allows a deeper exploration, so you curl your digits like you’re beckoning the orgasm forward. You know how easily you can get it out of her. All it needs to get Minju cumming around you is a slap, roughness, and giving her what she wants anyway. You know your methods, she knows hers. It’s a recognizable cycle that despite this, you can’t break.

Part your fingers widely to spread her. She’s so wet that she soaks your knuckles. There’s an ocean inside her waiting to be waved to shore. A storm, too, brews from the base of her throat as Minju whimpers. Her body lifts off the table but you force her down on it. She isn’t going anywhere, not without a fight.

Oh, and fight she does. She was an idol before an actress, so her muscles still memorize the circling motions that repeat on your fingers rather than move onstage. She sang once. That was a long time ago yet her voice sounds perfect as it strains her moans. Every little thing she does is a reflection of her past. 

That’s why when she leans back, pupils dilating north, and says “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” you get deja vu.

Your palm hits her clit, adding impact to your strokes. “There you go, little slut,” you snarl. “Are you happy now? Maybe even a little grateful?”

If Minju’s ass isn’t pressed down on the glass mantling your dining table, it hovers so her pink little hole receives you better. It’s not without the help of her weak hands clinging to the table for dear life, but she seems to be losing her balance. Her hips are shuddering. Her beautiful face is squeezed up into a blissful wince. Her breaths are becoming blunt little gasps that say none of the gratitude you want to hear.

You slap her boob. Red blooms from her pale skin that deepens when another impacts her bosom. The recoil dizzies you. If anyone’s getting the impression that you’ll slap her bouncy tits until you hear a proper word of thanks, they’d be right. First impressions are right just for once.

“T-thank you—” Her voice cracks, breaking like her. “Fuck, shit, thank you, thank you.”

Squeeze her cruelly and pull on the perky nipple. Your thrusts become mindlessly paced. Your hand returns to your cock while the other ruins her pussy. The pleasure is telepathic. It’s connecting you; her screams and squirms make you do the same. The electricity firing up in your veins is a shared network. When you point your fingers to her spot, she arcs her back in the same direction. How beautifully fucked up is that? 

“That’s not enough. You didn’t come here for nothing. What do you want, Minju?”

Minju babbles. You got your gratitude but not a proper answer. To be fair, she can’t speak when you’re fucking her like it’s your dick inside her, and when your lips are all over her collarbone. 

“And you better keep quiet,” you add, curling your thrusts, “or Wonyoung‘s gonna hear. Do you really want her to know her precious friend is a big slut?”

However, despite the rumors she starts, Minju could be a very good girl when needed. 

“Need you to make me cum,” she whispers. Her midriff is fluid as water with the way it rolls, showing off the hourglass shape of her waist and a soft tummy. “Do everything to me you can’t with Wonyoung. P-please, I can’t take it.”

Even if she can’t (wrong by the way), you’ll make her. She asked for it. She walked up to your house with a purpose: to be used, to be treated like less of a human being. So it’s understandable that you slam her down the table and seal a hand around her neck. 

She’s so light that the forceful push doesn’t break the fragile glass. But there’s something of hers instead that’s going to be broken.

“Oh fuck! It’s so–” Minju’s eyes roll back. “Ohh… oh!”

Little sparks of wetness shoot in the air. Your pace turns merciless. With just three fingers, you puppet her body. Strings are pulled—her arms raise and her long legs strain to pull you in. You push and she keens, you pull and she yells. You’re making her desecrate the place with her water.

“C-can’t breathe.” A squeeze of her beautiful features—eyelids wrinkling, mouth parting, cheeks filling with scarlet—occurs before she squirts again. She whimpers pathetically, sounding so pitiful you want to laugh. “Ah, fuck, daddy—”

Something stirs inside you. When men hear that name, it ought to feel purely platonic and familial. They’d hear it from their daughter and feel compelled to protect them from men who’d do to them what you do to Minju. But you much prefer hearing that two-syllable word when it comes from a naked woman squirting all over the floor, from whom once you register it, you’re urged to pin her down, tie her down, hold her down.

Ironically, you release her. That isn’t because it’s over though. “On your knees. Follow me.”

Minju releases a gasp, grateful for the oxygen. The color returns to her face yet she barely has the energy to get off the table. You’re a generous man, and hey, it still counts as helping. So you yank her hair and force her on the ground. She fucking moans, a feat deserving of a healthy spank to her ass.

You walk to the living room. She follows you withher hands and knees bearing the cold tiles. You lead her to the place where you spend your time watching movies, rehearsing, and hanging out with Wonyoung if she’s ever home.

Speaking of, glance at the door of your bedroom. It’s still closed. It’ll stay that way.

Look down after wondering why Minju’s noisier. She’s playing with herself on the floor with no care for the cold chill of the tiles or the little dirt wedged between them. She lightly rubs her abused clit, quivering at the contact. You expect that from her—she’s corrupted, an irredeemable cause. She’ll get herself off anytime anywhere.

But what’s unexpected is what those watery eyes are focused on: you, in a framed picture on the wall. You look younger, happier. You’re in formal garments standing next to Wonyoung in a church.

It was you on your wedding day.

You spit on Minju. “Filthy cumslut.”

The drool slides down her cheek like a tear. She darts her tongue out and licks it. One could’ve thought it was candy considering the lift of a smile. 

“I’m sorry, daddy,” she says resolutely. Her fingers still toy with her entrance. They won’t serve her well when there’s a bigger, better thing behind your pants to do it for her.

Your pants are already off. “Get up. Get the fuck up,” you command, but you do it for her. 

You grab her neck and force her up. The look on her face is addicting, the way the shock turns into carnal need, the way she bites her lip. You press her to the wall, right under the framed wedding pictures, and finally plunge yourself inside her.

“Oh, oh, oh!” 

What did Minju do to get this tight? Her walls are squeezed closer around you than you remember. They’re still wet from her squirting, easing your burden of fighting against the tautness of her core.

Her groans are pitched just like how you pitch yourself in her and make her fight for it. She tries everything: gathering the strength she has to push her ass into your crotch, rolling her body, looking back to watch your cock disappear between her lips. 

“So big, daddy!” she cries. With a lick of her lips, she turns to face you. “Mmm, d-do you ever get this massive when you’re fucking Wonyoung?”

That seals it. There’s no restraint in using her body. Her plump ass leading to her toned back is a temptation by itself. You’d burst all over it (maybe in it) if you weren’t already firm in breeding her. But dear god—it rises and descends into your angled pumps so effortlessly that you aren’t afraid to spank it like you’re angry at her. 

“Keep your whore mouth shut.”

Spank after spank you bestow and you realize, oh, you and Minju are really made for each other. The more her ass reddens, the more hot pain sparks on your palm. She throws herself back hard, you piston her harder. 

Your puzzle pieces stick together so perfectly that it’s a shame you didn’t meet under different circumstances. She could’ve been an adorable girl next door and you could have been a guy looking to slip her a love letter. She would’ve been your loving girlfriend, a beautiful wife, someone you’d actually enjoy touching, so different from the woman asleep in the bed upstairs.

But that’s never happening. Minju’s a slut through and through, and she’ll forever be a sin you won’t go to confessions for. She was made to be fucked then discarded of when she’s no longer of use. You see it in the way she’s in a mantra of craziness, the way she yells, the way she looks back at you like she’s daring you to hurt her.

You choose the dare rather than to tell her the truth. You curl her hair into a fist and pull her into you. 

“God, I’m so close.” Minju’s trembling body grows warmer in your touch. “I’m gonna cum all over your big gorgeous cock. I can’t hold out longer, daddy.”

Your teeth dig into her earlobe. You could make her bleed and she’d still find a way to make the pain heavenly. “I thought I told you to be quiet. Is Wonyoung waking up and ending your life worth it for this?”

“What if I say yes?” 

“Fuck.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice, making her see you’d give her away to get a night with me? You’ll give up all this stupid shit t-to be my daddy. Because Wonyoung’s just sooo worthless, isn’t she?”

Savage her cunt and shove your fingers down her mouth just so she could shut up. You love this. Minju’s always so ready for you. 

No, actually—now that you think about it, you hate it. You hate how she’s curvier than your wife, how she’s more alluring than she could ever be, how she moans despite the blockage in her throat. Everything about her is so sexy that the sound of her choking up spit makes you throb. 

This is the wrong time to have a conscience. You’ve already split her apart. You’ve already got your fingers in her hair that pull hard to the point that damage is highly likely. You’ve already—

—got Minju screaming, biting down on your skin as her legs spread. What a strange thing to have as a natural reflex. That’s all she knows to do: spread her legs, hope her innocent face attracts a guy into her home and his dick into her pussy. Her skin, white as snow, has become impure with red blemishes. You see her purple-bruised neck flex when she yells into your hand. 

“Daddy! Daddy!” Minju yells. Her fingernails leave fine scratches on the wall. “Fuck, I’m squirting so much I don’t know what to do—oh fuck!”

You bump the manic girl up on your knee before spreading her legs. A godless squirt of her juices hits Wonyoung’s face, the savior being the glass protecting the picture. Others bless their homes with water blessed by esteemed priests; you like to stand out. Choose to have Minju’s unholy juice flood the photo you once held dear. 

Did something possess you? An evil spirit, a god of fertility? All are clichés but you can’t help but think so when you notice how fast you’re pumping Minju. It’s like greed’s finally reigned you. It’s difficult to resist. Minju just wrings your cock perfectly dry with her tight cunt, keeps you speedy with her desperate moans. You’re vandalizing her with your climax and she doesn’t want to be clean ever again.

“You think you’re special, Minju?” You press her to the ruined picture. Her side profile mashes on the glass. “You’re nothing, only a useless hole, just like that bitch. Now clean it up.”

Her eyes light up in shock. Excitement? “What?”

You pull her head back in order to have her full lips pressed against Wonyoung’s face. The clear squirt is still dripping from it. Minju’s face is red, and although your cock left her moments ago, she insists on tensing like it’s there. Is that how she lives? Her way of bonding is riding on the high she got the night before and the night before that. She always has sex in her mind that thoughts of it occur to her as they would to an animal. 

That’s right; she’s an animal. Perhaps even a dog would have more self-control than her, ironically. 

“Lick your mess,” you command. “Now.”

Minju whimpers. You bury your fingernails in her scalp until she loses her fake hesitance. Her tongue glides on Wonyoung’s face and relieves her of the mess. Her lips part and close, taking in her own taste. 

She looks like she’s making out with your wife. Her pretty face smudges the other pretty face in the picture and it’s so much hotter than it’s got the permit to be. Wonder how it’ll look if she’s actually kissing the real Wonyoung—picture them with their legs locked together and tongues coming out to play—and you’re hard enough for another round.

“That’s right. You want to be Wonyoung so bad? You want to be the one I drive into the bed everyday? So fucking make out with her.”

“Y-yes, daddy. Oh.” Minju’s moans fog the glass. “I taste delicious.”

 It’s probably a hygienically reprehensible thing to do. But her mouth is dirtier than the picture anyway. You force her lips deeper into it until you pull her away, satisfied.

Not quite.

Rub her clit a few more times. Hose her squirt all over the floor. You’ll have a mess to clean up. Oh, there’s all the evidence: her squirt on the floor, her lipstick in the shape of a languid kiss on the picture frame, the mess she made in the dining table where you ate her rather than your food. 

But it’s all worth it. An evil idea plants and sprouts in your mind. “Bedroom.”

Minju pants. Her hands are flat on the wall. She turns to you, saliva and lipstick smeared on her chin, and asks, “W-which one?” 

“You know exactly where.”

Her wide eyes tell you wordlessly that she got the point. She’s well aware of what room you want to use her body next. It’s not even supposed to be a question given the ways and moments you fucked her there.

“But daddy—if, if she hears us?”

You grin. “Then you’ll have to be pretty fucking quiet.”

The best thing about Minju besides her body is her passiveness. She may act up sometimes but she still needs your cock, and she’ll do anything to get it. So when she hangs her head to hide her smile, you spank her. It speeds her steps to the staircase. Continue doing so all the way.

It’s funny how she struggles to even lift a foot. Streams of your cum and hers slide down her legs, staining the carpet. You’ll have to wash that out, too. If you have the maid do it, she’s likely to put two and two together. 

Even from the back, Minju’s body is beautiful. Her reddened ass twists from side to side and brings attention to her wide hips. The deep line on her spine is a path you trace your fingertips on. She quivers. 

“Daddy,” she whines.

Hit her butt. Let it fill your palm. “Keep on walking.”

It’s borderline dehumanizing. You’re treating her with a ferociousness a woman like her should never have to go through. The eyes of the painted men and women on your walls lock on her. It’s like their hard stares are real. Minju bears the blows to her cheeks during her walk of humiliation up the stairs. Tiny yelps are caused by each one. It’s in her to be quiet now that Wonyoung is quite near, although not as close as she is to another heavy orgasm.

You slap her pussy, making her shake, then lead the juices mingling in it up to her asshole. She chews on the inside of her cheek to hide her moan. She reaches the last step with a huge sigh of relief. 

The finality of the torture doesn’t last long. Fuck, it doesn’t even exist. You collect the semen and wetness from her legs, then drag it right back to her pussy.

You shove your fingers deep in her cave. There. Now your cum stays inside her. After that, it’ll drip all the way to her womb. She screams through pursed lips. 

Push her hard against your bedroom door. Her stomach’s flatness goes up to the point that it’s the only thing engendered into the wood. Minju’s tiny gasp is already loud for you. Her beautiful side profile is mashed deep into the solid barrier between the two women.

Minju whimpers. Is she scared or heavily turned on? The thing with her is she likes both. So, yeah—she’s wet at the thought of being caught with you, being fucked within a distance of your wife wherein she could finally pin down your infidelity. 

The little angel closes her eyes when your words hover near her prone ear. “Shut up,” you warn, “unless you want to lose your career. Or this dick.”

You slip your shaft between Minju’s shapely thighs. A friction is nurtured and grown into rough, pant-accompanied humping that leaves both of you breathless. Her pussy lips splay warmly on you and you’re allowed to rub yourself on her clit. 

Minju tenses up. Her breaths are kept to a hummed volume yet their huskiness gets you to fuck her legs faster. The core between them is so warm and you haven’t even welcomed yourself in it again. 

You carefully open the door. You don’t know what you’re expecting: Wonyoung crying with her face in her knees? An anger you never knew she could have? But what shows calms you. There’s your wife who remains asleep on the bed. From the soft snores, it’s easy to tell she’s deep in a dream.

“Wonyoung’s so pretty, daddy,” whispers Minju. You push her to the footboard where she holds on tight. “Do you think she’ll want to join if she wakes up? Or she’ll leave you for me?”

“Are you sure you want to act like that?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Depends on what you’re gonna do to me.”

Everything. You’re planning on doing everything to her. 

Push her to the small pole of the wood. You’re forced to shove your fingers in her mouth again to keep her from yelling. The contact it makes to her clit is already overwhelming. But she’s all for overwhelming—she wants the kind of sex that leaves her beaten and bruised, the kind that leaves her sore and not knowing if she should tell you to keep going or halt. 

You know what she’d choose.

Minju grinds on the pole. She’s dancing her hips again. Somehow, things of the past don’t leave her. Her idol days still leave an impact on her. The guy she made cheat on his wife a long time ago returned to her life to cheat again. 

No, you’ve never been one for sentimentality, but things have somehow stayed the same. The slut that is Minju today was a slut all those years ago, too. 

Grab her hips and force her to hump the ball of the pole. She soaks it instantly. Minju is corrupted to no hope of return. There’s your cum, leaking from her pussy and to the bedsheets. Her juices wet the pole and increase the creaking noises that would wake Wonyoung up if not for whatever dream she’s having.

“Oh, daddy! Oh, daaaddy—” she stammers, words bitten and broken in the major need to be quiet.  “Just… fuck me. Please?”

“As long as you—”

“Be a good quiet girl, yes. I’ll do anything, daddy. Anything for this cock.” 

She kneels down. Her tender mouth seals around your left testicle. You nearly shout right there and then. Minju’s running her lips on the underside of your swelling dick. She feels so good, and she is so good. She has all the tips and tricks to keep you hard memorized, if her brain wasn’t too full of other dirty thoughts.

The rasp in your throat materializes and makes her squirm her legs together. She puckers her lips then slips your cock through their joined entrance. Her almond eyes look wider tonight. Your tip pokes the back of her throat. She lets it rub there for now. You find pleasure in the texture that makes you leak. No, you can’t cum. Not yet.

Take a last look at Wonyoung before diving your rod to the depths of Minju’s throat.

It’s funny that the girl still has a gag reflex. Sucking dick is second nature to her. So is getting throatfucked. The walls of her oral hole flex to keep you in. She makes sharp inhalations only to take in the musky scent you thrust on her. In her?

Choking comes after. The orifice grows tighter which makes you fuck it harder. Saliva’s slick liquid state sheens your erection. Minju’s lost her breath a long time ago but she’s lost more than that now. The regular beat of her heart is gone. You can’t search her face for any color other than the palest white. 

“You have to stop gagging, Minju,” you say. Don’t help her though; keep ruining that throat. “Maybe you really do wanna get caught. Makes you really wet, doesn’t it?”

She nods. Your hard tip bobs in her mouth as she does. Her pretty eyes, with their long lashes and big pupils that always seem to gleam with innocence, fill with watery tears. 

“How cute.” You’re surprised that her hair is intact to her scalp after you pull it back. “But I make the rules around here. And I need you to seal that mouth shut and use it for good.”

There’s a possibility that, like Minju, you’re a dancer as well. But the upward grind of your body has no grace in it. It’s a rough, punked up beat that renders the girl humming and screaming.  This roughness is nowhere close to natural.

You dip your cock in her just to see how far you could go, how far is needed to keep her quiet. Feed her more than she could suck. Every sensitive spot of yours is on fire thanks to Minju’s dutiful tongue and hard sucking. Your sack slaps her chin so hard it’s surprising it doesn’t hurt. 

But, like you iterated, Minju isn’t normal. She takes the pain for pleasure and doesn’t give a damn if she gets wounded because of it. 

The tears finally fall from her eyes. 

The lines blur. Who is she—the woman asleep on your bed or the woman you fucked to be disloyal to her? Minju’s beautiful; so is Wonyoung. Jang Wonyoung is beautiful but there’s a category of beauty wherein the girl you’re destroying right now falls in. That’s the section for women who look pretty when they cry, who’ve accepted they’re as fucked up as whoever finds them and takes them in for who they are.

Your wife is pretty. You guess. But Minju is a beauty who lets you do everything to her, and that makes her a little bit more important.

Defile, defile, defile. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you get cum in her hair—(”I have a photoshoot, babe, you can’t!”). Semen sticks to Minju’s locks right now. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you be this rough with her—(“And what if they see? I shouldn’t look dirty to the fans.”) Minju is sitting there taking it like she’s just a cum dump. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you tear off her clothes because “they’re couture so it’s not really mine.” The coat Minju wore coming here lies discarded on the first floor.

Wonyoung doesn’t let anyone defile her. It’s her most fatal flaw. It’s the flaw that makes her husband see all the tiny imperfections she doesn’t allow the camera to see and chase highs in another woman’s throat.

So when Minju cries, gags, chokes—you realize it’s all so simple.

Slip out of her. The delusions clouding your head make you steal a look at the bed. Oh, now it’s unbelievable. Wonyoung is still asleep.

Not that it’s any inconvenience to you.

You prop Minju up to the vanity table. The counter carries the heave of her small chest. She can barely lift her head up. It makes her carry a look of humiliation that’s not at all true. She’s the most shameless woman you’ve ever met.

“Daddy… daddy…” 

Twist her chin so she can look at herself in the mirror. Her body is amazing despite the handprints and bruises peppered on her stomach, butt, and neck. She flusters but your finger presses on her lips before she can look away.

“Not a single sound,” you remind her. 

She nods. Good girl.

Minju’s a capable girl. Well, mostly. She offers those amazing dicksucking lips, shapely curves, and sometimes, her ass for ruining its own tightness. But nothing beats the feeling of her cunt. It’s all the right things: wet, tight, and perfectly quivering as they wrap around your shaft.

Minju closes her eyes. Bites down on her lip. She fights to be true to her promise of silence. Being a good girl and bad girl simultaneously is one of her versatile traits. The table creaks louder than expected. You would’ve shot another look at your spouse again, but Minju’s pretty face is in the way. Her cheeks are scarlet and her brows bead with sweat. She really is a beauty.

Your strokes are ceaseless. The thing that shocks you the least is the fact that her legs look as if they spread wider and wider. She splits while you split her apart. Place a hand on her tummy to muffle the sounds of skin colliding and wood creaking, and reach a better end: your cock is hitting her guts, making a bobbing print on her flat stomach.

“Look how deep I am, Minju.” You grin wickedly at her reflection. “You call me daddy anywhere, don’t you? How about I become a real one?”

Minju bounces herself on you. That’s a yes. A definite, enthusiastic yes. 

Your penetration is rougher, gliding on places she can’t even imagine. If you cum right now, and this far in, you’ll live up to your name of “daddy.” Minju isn’t the only one who has to keep promises.

Corner a pulse point on her neck. Her core squeezes and although its resistance is tough, your pumps are more so.

“You’ll be my secret good girl. Daddy’s gonna put a fucking baby in your stomach, and no one has to know it’s mine. No one has to know you’re mine.”

Minju pouts, not out of sadness but of the orgasm that’s creeping from her feet to her center. It’s so close she could reach for it, taste it like a strong wind. You allow the tiny breaths and pants that leave her to be exemptions from your bedroom law.

“Wonyoung would be so happy for you.” You lick the sensitive spot behind her ear. “‘That’s so great, unnie! Come on, tell us who’s the lucky guy.’ And you’ll have to stop yourself from telling her that I did it. Can you do that?”

Minju emphasizes each repetition with a responding throb and push of her cunt. “Yes, yes, yes—”

Allow that, too. Burst inside Minju. Flood her insides with cum that shall infiltrate her fertile womb. Soon, that tummy would be round rather than flat. It’ll be your baby. 

Minju got what she wanted in the end.

-

The next day, Wonyoung will wake up crying. 

It’ll happen early in the morning, when the moon is still up and sheets still wrap your exhausted form. But she’s sobbing so loud that it’ll rouse you. 

“What’s wrong?” you’ll say. 

She’ll tell you about a dream she had. Wonyoung’s going to narrate a complex dream of Minju, her beloved former member and best friend, seducing you. It happened right in the house and in front of her. You dared to do it to her while she was sleeping and thought she didn’t know.

And you?

You’ll take her in your arms, kiss the inside of her trembling wrist, and say, “Oh, honey—it’s okay. I’m here, baby. I’m here. I’m here.”

[trash1129]

×,.·´¨'°÷·..§SELF-SABOTAGE§.·´¨'°÷·.. -a Soobin smau (+ written chapters)

Summary: After (Y/n) breaks up with her ex, Do Jaeyi, she isn’t left alone by him. Finally after being bothered nonstop, she breaks and tells him she is dating her high school rival, Choi Soobin. Now they are left to keep up the act of being a couple till this all blows over. Little does (Y/n) know Soobin has been waiting for a chance like this.

a/n: here we go again with me attempting another smau! I’m more excited about this one because I actually planned stuff for once :D I really wanted to try my hand again at one of these and wanted to try an enemies to lovers type situation

☆Rating: 16+

☆Release date: March 2nd, 2023

☆Ending date: August 15th, 2023

☆Status: ended

☆Pairing: Choi Soobin x Fem! Reader, mentions of past relationship with an OC, and maybe some pairings on the side if I wanna add some spice ;D

☆Content: smau with written chapters, fluff, crack (idk if it really is bc I don’t really think I’m that funny), some angst at some point tbh, fake dating, semi-enemies to lovers, semi-mutual pining, psych major!(y/n), dancer!(y/n), psych major!soobin, barista!beomgyu, college!au, slow burn ig???

☆Warnings: lots of swearing (I have potty mouth myself so they all will too), some suggestive parts maybe and some mentions of sex but no smut bc smut isn’t something I write, chapters may be long idk yet, I didn’t really pay attention to like grade levels in relation to age so we don’t need to pay attention to if it’s accurate or not

☆Featuring: the rest of txt, lee chaeyeon (iz*one/solo), Lucy (weki meki), probably some other idols in passing

DISCLAIMER: This is a piece of pure fiction and do not represent txt artist, iz*one/solo artist, weki meki artist, any other artist or reflect their actual selves or morals. All in this fan fiction is 100% fake and not real at all

Profiles:

The ass shakers

Soobin’s emotional support group

Chapters:

01. ONE OF US RRRAHHHHHHHHH🦅

02. You see how easy it is to lie?

03. Twinkle toes

04. Don’t HMU😣😭😿💔

05. I’m meeting Lucifer today! (Written, 1.9k + sns) unedited

06. That's the spirit!

07. That is a (Y/n) response

08. Very Soobin core

09. Is that Choi Beomgyu?

10. Soob is a broke ass bitch

11. I was threatened 🥺🥺 (Written, 2k + sns) unedited

12. I do but I don’t :D

13. Darling baby girl

14. FEED ME

15. Slay or be slain

16. Mean girls Christmas routine

17. Love birds (Written, 3.6k) unedited

18. Because sleepover :)))

19. In the words of Twice

20. And I’m Hyojeong

21. SHUT UP ITS GIRLS NIGHT

22. Skill issue

23. Keep my wife’s name out of your mouth

24. I’m concerned (Written, 1.2k + sns) unedited

25. No pics🗣️ No proof🗣️

26. Not you too

27. Oh f*ck

28. Prettiest face I’ve ever seen

29. …what?😃

30. I know. I’ve known.

31. fanfic levels

32. Master manipulator (written, 1.9k + sns) unedited

33. Crush (written, 2k) unedited

34. Limited addition animal crossing switch

35. Epilogue

Bonus!: New privs

Bonus 2!: Daily bf texts

[yanderehsr]

Hii! How r u? How was ur dai? About the oc thing...Could I prety please with cherry on top get a platonic platonic Furina, Ei, Nahidaand Venti with a reader that is like a elf? Idk, how to explain it, so I am gonna add a picture to how I wiev it:

Her name is Eclipsa and has white hair and pointy ears(ofc since she is an elf). And I dont mean like Santa's elfs, I mean the ones from greek and romanian mytology.

About the bakstory: Lets just say that she is the daughter of The Heavenly Principels(lets just call her THP bc I am lazy) (ik it sounds cringe but hear me out😭) and since THP was not all the lovey dovey tipe and probably VERY bad with children (maybe even hate them idk, I really cant see her motherly) she just decided to throe her to Tyvat into the care of the archons untill she was old enough (16 years old) to come to Celestia (bacically be mature since she doesnt want a cryng baby around). Eclipsa is growing, just like Klee slower (there is a theorh that says that Klee is 80 but is also 8 bc she is growing 10 times slower than normal) and everu 100 it adds 1 year rlto her age. Now, lets say that when she was 10(1000) she overheared somebody say that the archons dont actually like her (like parental figures ofc) and that they probably just cang get rid of her. She actually belivd them like a dumb child that she is and ran away (opened a portal to another world and dissapeared without anybody's knoladge). Now, lets just say for the sake of this au to make it more interesting (maybe more cringe but I am having fun ok?😭) that the disaster from Khaenri'ah happened bc the person occ heared it was a khaenriah'n and THP since finding this out was like "OH HELL NAHH" and this iz the reason they destroyd Khaenria'h. THP gave the archons untill Eclipsa was to turn 16 to find her. Well, now, at 15, she randomply (and awkwardly) came back. (Maybe she finally got into her head the ideea of checking Irmansole to see if the archons truly hated her and surprise surprise, ints not true). Now, imagine the characters meeting Occ in their nation. For Venti- at windrise, for Ei in the city (near the statue), for Nahida just at the spirit tree (maybe one of her little friends passed that message for her) and for Furina(back when she was still an archon) she was told from Neuvillette that he sensed Occ's presence(lets just say that higher ups are aware of Eclipsa's existance, including Furina. Perhaps she has read about Oc in one of the books she read to find a solution to Fontaine's profecy).

Also, I imagine ooc to look like this when she was little(I just love this fanart sm😭):

(One thing to note is that none of theres fanarts are mine, and idk who they are from to credit them. Also te line I made was bc there was some writting on that picture and I didnt want it to be out of the context:>)

About personalit I see her as somebody who is quite the drama queen and loves attention 24/7. She loves pulling pranks all the time and also like annoyng people, but in a joking way. Hoever I see her as somebody who has her moments of understanding and is quite the menance to societity(pretty mhch like how Klee is). About her powers, she is developing since young THP's powers but since she is not even 18, its definetly not as affective.

Anyways, I know it might be a weird request or cringe, and maybe I wrote too much, or gave too little information. Also, I am VERY sorry if you cant undrtstand this request, english is not my first language and I pretty much have dyslexia(not bad one tough, I am still working on correcting mynself :D) and I tried to make sure I made as little mistakes as posible but its hard to spot them when its a big paragraphe, uk? therfor you are always free to ignore thiz request, hopw you have a nice day and good luck writting so many requests. Also, congrats on 1k followrs!! :D

...Did I just read an entire fanfiction XD, I will gladly write this, and thanks for the congrats😆

Hope you'll enjoy😄

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping

Furina: She knows almost nothing about her, Neuvillette doesn't seem to remember anything about her and there are no books about it, hell the only reason she knows about Eclipsa is because Focalors thought of it as important that she knew about The Heavenly Principles daughter if she was going to act as an archon.

Furina's first meeting with Eclipsa is when Neuvillette is showing her around, it was instant love... not the romantic kind, the platonic kind, Eclipsa looked like a doll, so perfect to dress up, so perfect to have around, Furina feels lonely and Eclipsa makes her feel whole again, so she takes what she wants.

Furina dislikes The Heavenly Principles, she would be happy if she was hated by them, her performance is over either way, the profecy is fullfilled, is it really so wrong of her to be selfish... you will see Furina run around Fontaine with Eclipse causing havoc, as long as she is with her she doesn't feel lonely, and now she never will

"Y-you aren't leaving me right, right... ANSWER ME PLEASE... I'm sorry for yelling, I just don't wanna lose a friend so dear, you can understand, right?"

Raiden Ei: The day Eclipsa dissapeared was the day her sister died... not only did she lose her very own sister, she also lost someone she practically viewed as a daughter, she had never felt such horrible pain before, so she shut herself away as to not feel it again.

So many years spent in isolation, all Ei could think about was her sister and Eclipsa, she swore if she could just get them back, she would protect them both with her life, she just wants things to go back to normal, like it used to be.

So many years had passed that Ei nearly didn't recognize Eclipsa, she had so many questions for her, but she didn't say a single one... screw The heavenly Principles, she was going to protect her as best she could, Eclipsa don't even get a chance to talk before she was shut inside the plane of Euthymia.

"So long, you have been away for 500 long years... but that's okay, you're here now, I'll make sure you not come to harm like what happened to Makoto"

Nahida: She doesn't have much knowledge of Eclipsa, she isn't recorded in the Irminsul, all the knowledge Nahida has of her is what her predecessor left for her she didn't forget, she is confused why Eclipsa isn't around... did she dissapear or worse, did she die?

Nahida is confussed when she feels Eclipsa's precence by the Irminsul, it feels familiar but she can't figure out why, of course like the curious 500 year old child she is, she went to figure out what caused such familiarity... Nahida knew who it was the second she laid eyes on her, this is who she is supposed to protect like the Greater Lord she once did.

Nahida asks a lot of questions, why is she here? Why was she gone? Eclipsa is now her favorite subject to learn about, Nahida takes up some kind of little sister role to stay close with her, she needs to know everything, feed her ever-growing curiosity, maybe one day she will introduce Eclipsa to the Wanderer... but that can be later, Nahida wants to be selfish for a bit longer.

"Curious, you being here fills me with a feeling like... like a hole, you fall down it everyday and it just feels so annoying, then suddenly someone has covered it up and I don't feel annoyance anymore... You need to stay with me for a bit longer, I need to figure out why"

Venti: He isn't all that interested in following The Heavenly Principles orders, but he still did as to not occur her wrath... he did not expect to take care of a child, he wasn't the best, he got constantly drunk, never took anything serious, except for protecting Eclipsa from any danger.

It was no surprise that Venti felt such fear and despair when Eclipsa dissapeared, he had lost yet another loved one... why does he still care, it always happens anyways, no relation lasts forever, no matter how much he tries to drown the memory of her in even more alcohol, it doesn't work

That's when Venti notices her precence, after 500 long painful years, is she finally back? Is this his second chance. He meets Eclipsa at windrise, she look just as well as when she dissapeared... He doesn't care what The Heavenly Principles thinks or wants, he will keep Ecilpsa safe and away from her, He will keep that smile on her no matter what.

"It sure has been a while hasn't it, soooo how have you been, hope you missed me for I have missed you"

[adriswrld]

Retirement » Jay White ⁰¹

plot: jay white finds out abt reader's potential retirement at wrestlekingdom 17

trope: friends to lovers / he fell first, but she fell harder

pairings: wrestler reader x jay white / reader x (platonic) bullet club

a/n: he's hubby your honor 🤝 reader used to be in bullet club when kenny was leader btw! atp, y'all should just expect to see my oc azalea playing the best friend 😭

THIS WILL HAVE TWO PARTS!! THIS IS PART ONE!

"How's your neck feeling?" Sean, Y/N's personal camera man had asked after turning on the camera and filming. As she and her best friend who is also a WWE wrestler shared a YouTube channel, they were filming an episode of Y/N experience for WrestleKingdom 17. "Well, my neck is literally killin' me so I hope that doesn't effect my match later cause if it does the blame could go on Kairi and I don't want that obviously. People tend to blame the opponent if the champion has a bad match." Y/N shrugged, picking up her phone to check the time.

"I'm gonna get freshened up and then we will be leaving soon to pick up Azalea from the airport. I showered last night so don't even try to say anything." Y/N said, pointing at the camera before Sean switched it off. "I'll be waiting in the lobby, Y/N." Sean said, heading to the door and Y/N gave a nod with a tired smile. Y/N rubbed her neck with a tired groan, still hating that retirement was in the rear view for her. But if she wanted to preserve her neck, she had no choice.

Two hours later, Y/N was standing in the airport with Sean, Mercedes and Trinity as they waited for Pamela (Bayley) and Azalea to arrive. "Are you okay? You keep rubbing your neck?" Mercedes asked in a concerned tone.

"Oh yeah I'm fine, just a bit sore." Y/N lied, glancing at Sean who already knew the truth but understood why she was keeping it a secret. Before anything else could be said, they noticed Pamela and Azalea jog over to them after grabbing their luggage. Azalea grinned and pulled Y/N into a hug, Sean getting it all on video. "I am running completely on energy drinks right now so I'm little jittery," she said.

"Oh it's alright, Iz." Y/N reassured and Azalea pulled away to greet Mercedes and Trinity. Pam smiled and pulled Y/N into a hug, "It's so good to see you again. How are you doing?" Pam asked, pulling away gently, almost as if she was trying to be careful with Y/N and that made Y/N think Izzy might have told her about her neck issues.

"I'm doing alright, thank you for asking. Just a bit exhausted but I'll be okay." Y/N said, giving Pam a reassuring smile. "I'm so sorry I won't be able to join you all, I've got lots of things I've got to do today, I really wish I could join all though. Maybe tomorrow I can join you," Y/N spoke as they had all been discussing where to eat.

"It's okay, Y/N, we understand. We'll be alright," Azalea reassured and the three women plus Sean nodded in agreement with her. "All right. Just be careful, and have fun," Y/N said, hugging Izzy goodbye before gesturing for Sean to come on with her.

"It's probably just me but am I the only one noticing how much her moods changed? Like, she's not as happy and cheerful like she's always been, plus she keeps rubbing her neck like somethings wrong," Mercedes spoke as they walked towards the exit together. Azalea sighed and stopped everyone, causing them to all turn to look at her. "Don't tell anyone this but, ever since she broke her neck, she hasn't exactly fully recovered yet," Izzy explained.

"But the doctors said she was cleared?" Trinity added in confusion.

"She was, but a few weeks ago she started getting really bad neck pain so we went to the doctors and they said something was wrong. They said she was cleared but when she started wrestling it appeared that she didn't fully heal. It's actually extremely dangerous for her to still be wrestling. It's kinda like what happened with Paige's neck. It's why she was so urgent on dropping the title to you." Pam, Mercedes and Trinity were all to shocked and concerned to even speak.

"Does that mean she's retiring?" Pam questioned.

"Look, I'm not saying that she's retiring, but it's definitely in the near future for her. She obviously doesn't want to, but it's what's best for her health." Azalea corrected with a small shrug. She was the last person who wanted Y/N to retire but Y/N's health was more important than that. At least she got to say she had the greatest match of her career with her best friend.

"That does explain why she hasn't been in the happiest of moods," Mercedes mumbled sadly.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

"I called my very good friend Okada to help me out for my match yesterday but I just got off the phone with him and unfortunately he couldn't make it. But, as we are already here, I figured why not just train with Sean," Y/N said and Sean smiled. "It's gonna be a pain but I could use the training," Sean agreed and Y/N chuckled and nodded in agreement.

"It's supposed to be closed as of now but I was given a key a long time ago in case I ever needed it. So, let's go inside." Y/N smiled as she unlocked the doors and entered the building. As they walked in it appeared the lights were already on so someone must've already been there. "Oh it looks like someone's already here," Y/N said quietly.

They could hear voices and Y/N couldn't help but find those very familiar. She could pick out El Phantasmo and Jay White's voice anywhere. "I knew I heard my boys," Y/N grinned as the two men both turned to look at her, immediately growing smiles once they saw her. "No way, is it the one and only Bullet Club Princess?" ELP aka Riley grinned and slid out of the ring, walking towards Y/N with open arms.

"Aye, former BC Princess. Not anymore." Y/N playfully corrected as she ran into his open arms. "Oh come on, you'll always be the BC Princess." Riley playfully nudged her once they pulled away and he shook Sean's hand with a polite grin.

Jay sat on the ring, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he watched Y/N walk towards him. "Still a cocky lil shit, aren't you? Not gonna come and greet me like a gentleman?" Y/N joked, getting Jay to crack a small laugh as he jumped down and let Y/N bring him into a small hug. "Nice to see you again, princess." Jay mumbled into her hair causing her to mentally freak out but she held her usual chill composure.

"Mmm, nice to see you too, Jamie." Y/N pulled away and Jay threw her arm around her, pulling her into his side like it was a normal interaction. "You know you can still call me Jay, right?" Jay raised his brows, still obviously confused on why she used his real name. "Nah, I like Jamie," Y/N winked, flashing a smile, he shook his head in amusement and didn't argue with that.

"So, what are you guys doing here anyways?" Riley questioned, choosing not to tease Jay for his crush on Y/N.

"I originally was suppose to train with Okada this morning to prepare for my match but he got busy so he had cancel. Figured I'd just train with Sean," Y/N informed, crossing her arms over her chest. Sean nodded, confirming her statement as he held the camera. "You can join us then, Riley was helping me train for my match with Okada anyways." Jay offered, Riley also agreeing with him.

"Sounds good." Y/N accepted.

Sean and Riley trained in one ring as Jay and Y/N were training together in the other ring. Riley was helping Sean improve in his wrestling so that was a huge help for him. "I haven't figured out how I wanted the match to finish, you know? All I know is that I really want to pay a tribute to Kenny and Azalea in the match, but I already figured that out," Y/N said to Jay as they discussed how she wanted her match to go with Kairi Sane.

Jay licked the front of his teeth, wondering if Y/N was still involved with Kenny. "Oh, uh are you and Kenny still, ya know?" Y/N's eyes widened slightly, knowing where he was going with that and immediately shook her head. "Definitely not, we ended things in like early 2019. We're still extremely good friends though, he's always been one of my biggest supporters." Y/N pursed her lips, silently wondering why Jay asked about Kenny. "Why?" She questioned.

"Just wondering," Jay shrugged it off but Y/N was still a bit suspicious.

"Well, we should continue now, I want to be at the dome early," Y/N said, getting back on track. "Yeah of course." Y/N stood up from sitting on the middle rope, "Can I borrow the blade runner?"

"I'm not sure, you technically never joined my bullet club," Jay pursed his lips sarcastically and Y/N hit his shoulder playfully with a laugh. "You turned on Kenny, how could I possibly join your club without it seeming like I'm betraying him?" Y/N pointed out as she circled him.

"Easy. You could've just chose me. I would've treat you better anyways." Jay said, adding a little truth to his words. Y/N glanced down in thought, thinking into what he said.

"All right, let's get back to it."

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

"Oh my god, your hair looks so beautiful, what the fuck," Y/N spoke as she entered the room Mercedes was in. "You like it?" Mercedes smiled, pulling Y/N into a side hug but being careful with her neck. "I love it. It looks amazing on you. It's like you burning the blue hair, putting that in your past and opening a new chapter as Mercedes, yeah?" Y/N asked. "Dude you got it perfectly. Yes, that's exactly what it means."

"I'm gonna get goin' but you call me if you need anything sweets." Y/N said, patting Mercedes's shoulder. "I will, thank you."

Y/N walked out of the room with her suitcase, going towards her personal locker room to drop her suitcase and bags off. "All right, now we are going to go search for the lovely Azalea who I'm sure is around here somewhere. She said she was by the ring since we last texted." Alice spoke, her hands tucked into her pockets of her joggers as Sean followed her with the camera.

"It's so amazing being here again. All the memories I've had here is just so surreal to me. It's gonna really hurt when I perform here for the last time. I'm just glad it's gonna be against Kairi. She's one of my greatest friends." Y/N and Sean both walked down to the ring, immediately did she spot Azalea talking with surprisingly, Jay White. She knew they never even met each other so that was kinda a shock to her seeing them in a deep conversation.

As Y/N walked up to them, Jay turned to look at her, "Why didn't you tell me you're retiring?"

Y/N blinked, being caught off guard with the sudden question. Y/N looked at Azalea with accusing eyes, "I'm sorry babe, but he was asking me why you always looked like you were in pain when you trained. He's really convincing, I'm sorry." Azalea frowned, suddenly feeling bad for telling Jay what was going on when Y/N trusted her with that information.

Y/N sighed, running a hand down her face exhaustion. "I'm not retiring, okay? We don't even know that for sure. Doctors just said that my wrestling days are limited if it keeps getting worse," Y/N explained. "Then why are you wrestling tonight if you know it can end your career? Are you insane, Y/N? Just drop the title before you permanently damage your neck." Jay argued, not understanding why she wasn't listening to everyone's warnings.

"I can't!" Y/N snapped, then taking a few breaths to calm herself down before she got even more upset and said something she might regret. "This is my legacy, Jay. This is my story and if I'm gonna go out, it's gonna be on my terms. Whether it ends tonight or next month, it's on my terms. You can hate me for it all you want, but it's my decision. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go see my friends cause it might be a while before we see each other again." Y/N plastered on a fake smile and walked past them to go find Okada.

Jay ran a hand down his hair, frustrated but also hurt that Y/N wasn't at least making an effort to preserve her career. "You're in love with her, aren't you?" Izzy tilted her head curiously, making Jay immediately turn to look at her. "Where did you get that idea from?" Jay scoffed in denial.

"Oh I don't know, maybe the fact that you seem to care about her more than you're letting on. And, I've watched her old YouTube videos of her backstage with the Bullet Club and I couldn't help but notice everytime she was with Kenny, you always held that jealous glint in your eyes. She even told me how you tried to convince her to join your bullet club. It was so insanely obvious. You're kinda lucky she's a little oblivious." Azalea smiled sarcastically as Jay rolled his eyes.

"Fine, maybe you're right. But, don't tell her, I plan on telling her myself, tonight." Jay stuck out his hand so they could shake on it, it took her a moment to think before ultimately shaking his hand in agreement.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Y/N paced back and forth nervously, her title strapped around her waist as she watched the TV where Kairi Sane was making her entrance. "You can do this, just go out there, don't fall, don't be stiff, show everyone why you're the best. Do what you do best, win, wrestle and entertain." Y/N spoke to herself, trying her hardest to motivate herself but she was failing miserably, growing more anxious by the second.

"Hey, Y/N. Are you okay?" Jay walked up to them and Sean took it as a sign to let the two talk alone.

"Do I honestly look okay?" Y/N deadpanned then frowned, not liking when she came off as rude. "I'm sorry, that was rude. I'm just freaking out, or panicking or something, I don't know," Y/N rambled, breathing heavily, she leaned on the wall behind her.

"Shit, okay I was gonna do this later," Jay mumbled to himself before placing his hands on her shoulders and her hands went up to his arms. "What are you?-" Jay cut her off, pressing his lips gently against hers, in the process, distracting her from all her previous thoughts. Y/N practically melted into the kiss, immediately placing her hands on his, she kissed back. Hearing her music begin to play, they both pulled away and before she could get a word out, one of the workers dragged her away and up the stairs.

"What happened to waiting till after the show?" Jay jumped slighly hearing Azalea's voice, turning around he noticed her leaning against the wall with crossed arms. "I was trying to calm her down," Jay defended.

"Dude, you realized that literally could destroy her entire focus on the match? You better hope nothing bad happens, if it does, I'm kicking your ass," Azalea stated before walking off to go watch the match with Trinity and Pamela in the stands where they couldn't be caught on any cameras as it went against hers and Pam's contracts with the WWE.

"Shit," Jay muttered, running a hand down his hair.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to get a breath in as she just superplexed Kairi off the top rope and immediately performed a Blade Runner after. The match was almost over and it was one hell of a match. Kairi was killing it and some even thought she might actually just pull a win over the champion. But, Y/N wasn't gonna let that happen. She had to admit, the kiss was a little distracting. It was just so sudden and unexpected. She didn't even think Jay was single after seeing those rumors about him with a new girlfriend.

Y/N crawled over to Kairi, attempting a cover but Kairi kicked out at two. "Fuck! Just give up!" Y/N leaned against the ropes, running a hand over her hair in frustration.

Kairi stood up tiredly and immediately ran and knee'd Y/N before she could block it. She dragged Y/N to the turnbuckles and began to climb up the rope. The crowd automatically assumed it was over for Y/N the minute Kairi hit the insane elbow. But, as Kairi performed it, Y/N got her knees up at the last second. Kairi groaned and Y/N stood up and jumped onto the top rope, performing her finisher, the Royalty Deathdrop. It was basically a backflip off the top rope into a DDT.

She hit it perfectly. "ONE..TWO..THREE!" Y/N grinned and tiredly crawled to the bottom rope, attempting to pull herself up as they announced her name as the winner. The official handed her the title and raised her hand before she immediately collapsed back onto the mat, barely able to hold herself up. Her body was battered and bruised so it was surprising that she wasn't even unconscious.

Kairi stood up and immediately went towards Y/N, extending her hand in respect towards her competitor. The crowd watched in anticipation, waiting to see if Y/N would accept her hand. Y/N hesitantly took Kairi's hand and the crowd applaused. Kairi pulled the taller woman up and raised her hand, showing a sign of respect for the retaining champion.

All until Y/N's hand dropped, the music hit. The music of Mercedes Moné.

The crowd cheered, obviously most knowing who she was. Y/N sat down on the middle turnbuckle, watching as Mercedes ascended down the entrance ramp. Kairi stood near Y/N as they watched Mercedes enter the ring. A whole new look on her, she was almost unrecognizable if you seen her as Sasha Banks in WWE. This was an entirely different woman and she wasn't here to play games. She was here to make history, money and win championships.

Kairi looked at Y/N silently asking if she wanted her to stay. Y/N shook her head, waving her off and Kairi stepped out of the ring, letting Y/N handle her business. Y/N stepped up, not liking the disrespect of Mercedes. She didn't have to say anything, she just raised her IWGP Women's Championship right in the face of Mercedes, not backing down to her.

Mercedes stuck her hand out, Y/N looking at it in suspicion. She took it hesitantly and Mercedes smiled as they shook hands. A show of respect. Y/N went to pull her hand away but Mercedes held it tightly so she couldn't let go. She pulled Y/N in, making her drop the title and performed what looked to be a gory bomb only it was straight into a DDT. Y/N groaned as she hit the mat, selling it perfectly so it made Mercedes look like a huge threat.

Mercedes walked over to the title and slowly picked it up, then dropped it onto Y/N's barely conscious body. "Give me a mic," Mercedes stuck her hand out, leaning between the ropes, they quickly handed her a microphone and she slowly made her way back to Y/N.

"Y/N, awee, congratulations on making history tonight, once again. I also know a thing or two about making history," Mercedes grinned, the crowd cheering for her. "I am here, in New Japan and Stardom to make some more. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm the standard. The conversation. The blueprint, and the CEO of this women's division."

Mercedes kneeled down next to Y/N's body, the champion not even attempting to get up or open her eyes. "So Y/N-San, enjoy your IWGP Women's Championship while you can. Because at Battle in the Valley at San José. Imma leave you bankrupt bitch. And you can bank on Moné." Mercedes took the championship and lifted it up, throwing the mic to the side as her music played.

Y/N rolled out of the ring once Mercedes made her way out. She grabbed her championship and let one of the officials help her walk to the back. She held an ice pack against her neck, as Azalea rushed up towards her and Sean obviously shortly behind with the camera. "I need to lay down," Y/N spoke, letting Azalea help her walk towards her locker room rather than run to do the press conference. They could hold it back a few minutes for Y/N like they always did.

"I love you, but you need to chill out with these extreme matches. If this next one is your last, don't hurt yourself worse trying to prove yourself. You had thousands of people watching you tonight, I'm pretty damn sure they know you're the best." Azalea said, handing the title to Sean for him to hold it until they got to the room.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'll take it down a notch next time. Sean, you can turn off the camera, I don't wanna film right now." Y/N leaned her head on Azalea's shoulder in exhaustion, not seeing that Jay was standing outside her locker room door. But, Azalea and Sean noticed him.

"I'm gonna go get the ice, lots of ice," Sean excused himself, leaving Azalea to deal with that by herself.

"I need to unlock the door so I need you to hold yourself up for a few seconds, okay?" Azalea slowly moved Y/N's arm from her shoulder and instead of Y/N supporting herself, Jay immediately went to hold her up. Y/N looked at him and sighed, watching tiredly as Azalea hurriedly unlocked the door to the locker room.

"You're probably gonna need a cat scan," Azalea mumbled, opening the door and Jay helped Y/N inside. Azalea switched on the lights as Jay helped Y/N lay down on the couch. "After the amount of neck bumps she took, I'm surprised she didn't break it," Jay added. Azalea pursed her lips, agreeing with him and Y/N tiredly hit his shoulder. "Don't be an ass. I had to make it look like it was killing me," Y/N muttered.

"I'm pretty sure it was killing you considering you can barely stand on your own," Azalea deadpanned.

Y/N rolled her eyes and moved the ice pack from her neck to her forehead. "The match looked good though, yeah?" Despite her current situation, she still loved wrestling and absolutely loved being out there in front of an audience. Nothing could ever take away her love and passion for the sport. Retirement or not. She would always appreciate it.

"You never had one bad match and it hasn't changed yet," Jay spoke before Azalea could respond to her friend. As Y/N went to say something, the door opened and in walked Sean with the ice packs and Mercedes. "Got the ice, and a visitor," Sean tossed the ice to Izzy who caught it with ease before he grabbed the camera and turned it back on.

"Hey, I didn't see you backstage so I got worried. And I noticed you could barely walk so I wanted to come check on you." Mercedes kneeled down next to the couch as Jay moved out of the way for her. Y/N sat up slowly, still trying to control her breathing. "You didn't have to, but I appreciate it. How are you feeling?" Y/N smiled, taking Mercedes's hands in her own.

"I feel like I'm on top of the world. This is all I've ever wanted and honestly, I'm still processing it all. In a way, I finally feel free, ya know?" Mercedes smiled as she spoke, still running on adrenaline from her debut. It completely took her mind off the fact that she was possibly gonna be the one to retire Y/N at Battle in the Valley.

"I understand completely. I'm literally so proud of you, I could cry. You deserve to live your dream, you deserve all of this. Don't let anyone tell you different. You belong here." Y/N stated, being filled with nothing but joy for Mercedes. She couldn't have been more proud of her.

Mercedes smiled, feeling a tear fall that Y/N wiped away. "Thank you so much. For everything." Mercedes said, blinking away her tears.

"You don't have to thank me. Just show me who Mercedes Moné is, and that's all I need." Mercedes chuckled and nodded, being gentle as she hugged Y/N. "I can't wait to beat you," Mercedes teased, pulling away with a smirk.

"All right, don't get all cocky now." Y/N scoffed lightly in a joking manner.

Mercedes snickered and stood back up, now turning her attention to Jay as Y/N leaned forward for Azalea to press the ice against her bag. "I don't think we've met yet. I'm Mercedes, it's nice to meet you," Mercedes smiled humbly as she stuck out her hand.

"Jay, it's nice to meet you as well. I've heard great things," Jay shook her hand gently with a warm smile.

"Well, I should get going. Imma let you rest and we'll meet up tomorrow?" Mercedes said towards Y/N. "Sure thing," Y/N nodded. Mercedes and Azalea shared a hug before she exited the locker room.

"You two have five minutes, then you need to do the conference and we can go back to the hotel or finish watching the show. I'm sure you don't wanna miss Kenny and Will's match." Azalea said before grabbing Sean and exiting the room to let the two discuss the elephant in the room.

Y/N cleared her throat, and patted her hand on the couch, telling Jay to sit down. His sigh was barely heard as he took a seat next to the woman he'd been in love with since their first interaction. "I'm sorry I kissed you. I definitely shouldn't have done that without your consent, that was extremely out of line," he began, causing Y/N to turn her body towards him, groaning at the pain in the process. She had never been so sore in her life. That was another reminder that she had to hang up the boots sooner than later.

"I'm not mad that you kissed me, Jamie." Y/N cut him off, using her left hand to move his face to look at her. "You're not?" Jay feigned confusion, being so sure that she was upset with him. After all, she hadn't spoken to him until Azalea left, which kinda forced them to have to talk.

"No. I'm mad that you didn't do it sooner," Y/N said, catching Jay off guard completely. Jay blinked, not sure if he heard that right or if his mind was playing games on him. "I can't tell if you're serious or not. Can you repeat that again?" He asked, being serious but not at the same time.

Y/N chuckled but stopped when she felt the pain in her stomach. "Look, I've always liked you, from the minute we met. But I wasn't in love with you," Jay's face fell hearing that but she placed her hand on his, silently telling him to keep listening. "I was so obsessed with thinking Kenny was the one for me because I genuinely never experienced love before him. I told myself so many times that he was the person I've always wanted when in reality, he wasn't at all."

"Then when we broke up and a month later I came back to Japan, you and I met up and I finally realized what was in front of my face the entire time. You always cared about me, and checked in after every match and that's something nobody else even bothered to do. You treated me exactly like I thought Kenny would. And I'm so sorry for realizing that way too late. I've always loved you, and when I found out you had a girlfriend, it was too late to tell you that I was in love with you."

Y/N wiped a tear that fell from her cheek, never being a fan of crying even if it was a happy tear. Jay furrowed his brows in confusion, processing what she just said, "I'm sorry, did you say girlfriend?" He questioned.

"Yeah, why? There was reports on Twitter that you had some secret girlfriend or whatever," Y/N shrugged. Jay couldn't help but chuckle, making Y/N raise her brows, not knowing if she should be mad or not. "Y/N, those were fake. That girl I was with was not my girlfriend. Riley and Will tricked me into going out with her. They said it was a guys night and when I show up, they're not even there and she just got caught in the middle of their jokes so I felt bad and just had dinner with her anyways. I don't even remember her name." Jay said, sighing when he realized he could've had Y/N much sooner.

"Oh." Was all she could say.

Jay noted her embarrassment and gave a squeeze to her hand, "I really wish I could go back in time and tell you how much I loved you way sooner. I could've had you this whole time."

"Well, there's no need to wait anymore," Y/N spoke softly, hoping he got the hint. Jay leaned closer towards her, careful with her body as of how sore she definitely was. "Can I kiss you, Y/N?" Y/N smiled and nodded, "Of course you can, Jay," letting him press his lips softly against hers. The kiss wasn't rushed like the first one. It was perfect. It was...everything.

Jay pulled away with a cheesy smile, "You called me Jay," he pointed out. Y/N rolled her eyes and playfully pushed him back, "Shut up, Jamie," she scoffed. Jay grinned and pulled her onto his lap, mumbling small sorrys when she winced. "I love you, Y/N," he spoke softly.

"I love you too, Jamie," Y/N pressed a small peck to his lips.

[epickiya722]

Where does that weird characterization of Izuku being a whiny nice guy incel even comes from anyway?

Just because he is kind that doesn't mean he's constantly doing that out of malice to get into a girl's pants, that's literally the antithesis of Izuku's whole ass character.

People say no one is against boy/girl friendships but they can't even handle platonic Iz/och as a concept.

I wish I knew where that came from, Anon! Actually on second thought, no the heck I don't.

I really hate that, just in general for these kind of characters, how some people will flip Izuku's niceness into something else that is entirely not him.

Oh, he's nice? Pushover.

Wrong, you're wrong.

He's nice? Trying to get into a girl's pants.

Disgusting, how dare you.

Seriously, they can't handle nice characters like Izuku without twisting them into some OC with the same name and completely misinterpreting the story.

Those same people as you said can't even handle M/F pairs being friends. They whine about same sex relationships and "people can't see them as friends" but BEHOLD! Here they are losing the damn mind over a canon friendship between a male character and a female one.

They also act as if people are stopping them from shipping a girl and a guy. They whine about people shipping characters of the same gender (mostly males) and mischaracterizing them. Yet turn around and do the same thing with characters of different genders! Projection, no better.

I guess they're mad that Horikoshi didn't make their "Deku Harem" concepts canon.

[professionalmachinefuckerwrites]

Vantablack x Reader | NSFW | (I don’t know what title to give this)

A simple one shot me (Boss) and Vandro wrote on Google docs on the in-real-life Vanta. We had forgotten about it, so here it is.

- Vantablack is one of our characters(?) Hes not really a OC, we think. Just a android-ized characterized version of our computer/tower.

- (By the way, anyone else in this story does not relate to Vantablack's story at all; just placeholder people.)

- Reader is whatever gender, uses they pronouns, but is coded to have a pussy.. we were simply going to say no pronouns, but this is just for simplicity. We wanted to give them the ability to have whatever sex, but doing that wouldve been difficult for a lot of the things we wanted to say. Sorry guys.

There might be a few errors. Please ignore them.

\__/\__/\__/\__/\__/\__/\__/\__/\__/\__/\__/\__/\__

You had just gotten home from work. Now was the time you would've started to make dinner for yourself, but you were too tired to do so. Slumping lazily, you collapsed onto the sofa in the living room of your house.

Living in the city could be exhausting at times; and when I mean exhausting at times, I mean all the time. But fortunately, you could afford quite a lot of the good things you had, you had cool friends and acquaintances, and the bills were all paid. You worked as a video game developer for a popular company.

About to fall asleep, your eyelids began to close. That was quickly interrupted by the knock at your door.

"Excuse me?" You said as you pulled aside the door.

"Hey. Sorry dude, you look a little tired. Just wanted to uh- drop this off." The person at your door was just one of your co-workers. This co-worker in particular had been working on something special. A sigh escaped your lips, and the door was opened wider as you stretched out your arm to let them inside.

"Thank you. I'll be back in like a couple days or so. Sorry, I gotta head over a couple cities over for a business meeting. Take care of him for me." You waved the person goodbye as the door shut again. Now, this time, there was a new person in the room.

He seemed to look at you almost as sleepily as you looked moments ago, constantly having that dreamy look to him. This wasnt no man; it was a machine. The person who made him claimed he was a "androidized version of a computer", or simply, just a computer in a more humanoid form. One of the only things you knew about him was the fact that his name was Vantablack.

Clearly there was lots of care put into his works. From the way he walked around silently admiring the surroundings, to the way he gestured to different things on you and the wall, he was made to copy human movements well.

But a couple things in particular seemed to catch your eye since the last time you seen him, which he was incomplete months ago, was the overall attractiveness of his body.

You could've sworn that he didnt have such a plump-looking chest and ass before; as he's supposed to be masculine-coded. Fairly skinny, but maybe that guy just wanted to make him as good-looking as possible.

And it was working a little too well.

The white plates covering a majority of his black body underneath seperated by inch-long gaps shifted slightly as he looked around. And where his front side of the neck, or the stemocleidomastoids were, was two thick-cabled extensions that had pistons and bundled up wires underneath the covering. In fact, his whole neck area was black and a more mechanized version of a human's neck; it looked oddly attractive.

After a few moments, he caught you staring.

"Yes? Is there something you need?"

You wish you didnt notice his bulge move underneath his clothes as he turned to face you.

"Oh, no, nothing in particular.. Say, are you comfortable? Do you charge or anything?"

He shifted around again. Then, he decided to make himself at home, and sat him down right on your couch. The light from the lamp was the only thing lighting up his gorgeous face in the dark room.

"I can bluetooth charge. I'm usually lying down or sitting in one place everyday," A metallic-like sigh came from him. "It's so nice to wear clothes."

"H-huh?" To be honest, that took you a little aback. That isnt usually something someone would say.

"Do you not.. Wear clothes often?"

"No. I'm usually naked more than half the time."

Your thoughts began racing again. You tried so hard no to think about this machine laying naked in front of you, but the thoughts wouldnt go away no matter how much you swatted at them.

"Hmph.. Are you fine? Your face isnt doing too well."

He pulled a leg up as he laid the side of his white and black face on the backside of his hand.

"Yes, yes! Im doing absolutely wonderfully."

Another sigh of displease. He closed his eyes briefly, and opened them again to meet your gaze; you had now just noticed his iris' emitted a small glow of multiple colors - RGB, PC gamer styled. Well, he was yet again, a android version of a gaming computer..

"You're a horrible liar. Come over here."

He beckoned you over with a flick of his finger. All of a sudden, you felt weak in your legs; but you hesitantly came over anyway.

"Uh.."

He unfolded his leg and sat up straight, then standing. He was about a foot or more taller than you, which made this situation even worse.

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him.

"Look at you. If you wern't in the mood, you'd be pulling away from my touch."

He leaned down lightly and pressed his smooth lips right up to the right side of your head, against your ear.

"If you want, I'll take care of your problem, since you're practically begging for some affection."

He spoke lowly in a pleasant, deep tone. The more he kept talking to you, the more the area in your legs seemed to grow with heat and throb uncomfortably; this fucker was making you horny..

"All you have to do is give me the green light."

He added on sinisterly.

You wanted him to keep doing this so bad, now the both of you realizing that you were down bad and horny; but the words were stuck in your throat.

So instead, you nodded your head rapidly.

"Oh.. Well," He let out a little laugh. "Thats enough of an answer for me."

And with that, his hands that had been caressing your back slipped up the front side of your shirt, fingers finding their way to your nipples.

His thumbs rubbed them delicately to harden them, and he watched with a smile on his face as you melted at his touch.

"Thats it. Very good."

Your knees buckled and you fell into his chest as his fingers and thumbs continuously worked on your nipples, rubbing and lightly pinching them, just enough to make little whimpers escape from your mouth. The throbbing between your legs became even more intense, and he didnt fail to notice this.

"Here, doll."

He helped walk you both over to a wall, all the way until your back was pressed up against it. As your back was being shoved up against the wall, he lifted his leg and pressed his knee against the bottom of your crotch.

"I think humans like this. This should get you over until we get to the most exciting part you are probably waiting for."

The feeling was all too teasing. Between him playing with your nipples and his knee against your throbbing crotch, you subconsciously squirmed and writhed. Apparently, this is the kind of reaction he wanted, as his smile on his face became more and more pleased.

But, as well as you kept getting more and more thobbing down there, apparently so did he; that bulge you saw minutes ago was growing underneath his clothes and pushing to get through.

"Please.." A quiet and pathetic whimper escaped from you.

"Hmm? What was that?"

He replied smugly while pinching your nipples hard.

"I need .." It took you everything you had to hold back a squeal.

His hands retracted from your swollen red nipples and he lowered his knee from your crotch.

"Yes?"

His hands threatened to go lower; they rubbed all up against your stomach, aching to go down.

"I need this.."

One of his hands sneakily slipped underneath your lower clothing and across your thigh. Goosebumps blossomed from where his hand once touched from how cold it was; his hands were capable of being warm, but apparently not now.

"Please, keep going.."

You couldnt believe how pathetic you sounded when saying this.

But, oddly enough, this sparked a reaction bigger than you expected out of him; his fans appeared to kick it up a bit, and his 'breathing' was erratic.

"Go on.." After a moment or so, he had replied quietly.

His hand now finally made its way to your bare crotch, and rubbed. Finally, a small moan managed to come out; and you absolutely loved the sensation of how his metallic fingers and hand felt on you.

"I-.. I need you to touch me more."

Now you could visibly see his eyebrows furrow lightly- but not being able to tell what he was feeling. It wasnt in confusion, or anger, but as a positive result. He was loving this. Perhaps he wanted to be touched, too?

"Yes, yes.."

You didnt know it was possible, but there was desperation in his voice. Before you could beg any further, his fingers rubbed your most sensitive area, and using his other hand, he kept you still from moving too much.

The sensation was now almost unbearable. You wanted to cum already, or force his hand to move faster, but you were stuck there whimpering for his touch. You thought he knew what he was doing, for him to pull a reaction out of you like this. This is clearly not his first time.

This had continued on for a few minutes, but you were getting impatient to reach your climax already, that you had begun to thrust against his hand and fingers.

He pulled them away from you after that.

"Ah-ah-ah. Not so fast."

You whined, already longing for his touch. You didnt see it yourself, but could only feel it, but you were wet- and his hand and fingers covered in your precum proved it.

"Wait, no! Please, a little more.."

He laughed while pressing both his hands on the wall next to the sides of your head. He let out breaths of hot air on your neck- you didnt know how he could even breathe, but it was a nice function.

"I want to see you beg some more, love."

He was staring back at you with that dreamy look in his eyes again. You noticed those thick neck cables below his chin connecting to his collarbone again. When he noticed you were staring at them, a hand quickly forced your chin to look back up at him again.

"Can you do that for me?"

You tried your best not to be too swooned by his words, attempting to focus on how he avoided your attention to his neck. Maybe if..

"Y-yes.. But, Im a little shy.. Im embarrassed..” You wernt lying about that one.

"That's fine, sugar. Say it into my ear."

He leaned his head lower and closer for you to say it into one of his audio receptors. Perfect. With a new and strange sense of confidence, you forcibly pulled him a little closer so you could bite his neck. He gasped audibly and pulled away as quick as he could, letting you go completely. He rubbed his neck with a expression on his face that showed he was completely taken aback, shocked, and a little bit of surprised mixed in.

"H..How bold of you.."

The room was too dark to see if he was blushing or not, or if he could even blush at all. But if he were, that wouldve made you feel even more proud of yourself for that.

"You liked that, huh?"

You teased him, in the same manner he did minutes ago. A low growl escaped from him and he came back over, holding your own neck with a hand.

"Shhh..”

His grip wasnt enough to hurt you, but enough to make you choke.

"Hahah.. Want me to do that again?"

You were no longer feeling submissive. You wanted to see him gasp like that again. He almost looked embarrassed now, like his pride had been hurt. The only sound he made in response was a little mumble. He had been successfully humbled.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Without forcing it, you pulled him closer, and guided him to switch spots with you, so now he was up against the wall. You pressed your mouth up against his neck and breathed slowly, and he quivered under it. His eyelids closed softly and mouth lightly agape just from you breathing on it..

"Look at you. You're shaking.. It’s adorable."

His hands grasped you roughly, and you were pushed into him further. He looked to be getting impatient and needy, so you fulfilled his desires..

You bit his cables again, and this time, a beautiful, soft moan made its way into your ear. He sounded attractive when he was at your mercy, to be honest.

And you bit him again, in a slightly different spot, and there were more whimpers and moans..

Combined with the motivation recieved from pleasing him and your own drive to be able to get pleasure yourself, it made you determined to play with him further.

(And, yes, he did observe that him being this vocal did you turn you on even more.)

Occasionally, you’d bite and suck on him so hard you could feel a spark tickle your lips, and he’d whine even louder than how he was before. It wasn’t your intention to hurt him, though, just by accident; although, he seemed to enjoy the pain. So for now, you didnt let it bother you.

Within a few minutes later, he got exhausted of having his neck played with and softly pushed your head away. Erratic and labored breathing emitted from his mouth, along with a string of drool that had sneakily made its way down the corner of his lips. You took this opportunity to see the work you have done; bite marks everywhere, a few exposed wires, and of course, an expression mixed of exhaustion and ecstasy.

“Had enough?” You watched him regain his posture again. He kept an arm around you, pulling you back in close if you tried to step away, clearly not letting you even have a chance of leaving him turned on.

“I need more than this.” He breathed exhaustedly. With a swift movement, he nabbed your wrist and guided your hand to his crotch. You grabbed him without another word said for you to do so.

“How much?”

Growls and rumbles of affection continued to come from him as he was touched. He kept humping into your hand, not wanting to be edged at the moment. He wanted pleasure immediately.

“More,” A simple reply dripping with desperation. You pulled your hand away when he rocked his hips faster.

“If you want me to make you cum so badly, you’ll have to make me.”

His fist locked onto your wrist with an iron grip. He lead it back to his crotch, but this time, more directly to his belt. Shakily, you took the initiative to undo the buckle, then undo the button and zipper of his pants.

“You will help me cum, one way or another.” His other hand began to undo whatever obstacles were in the way of him accessing your exposed crotch as well.

“V-very well.” The belt slid out of the loops and clanged against the floor. Nervously, wondering what he would feel like, you pulled him out of his boxers as if you were doing an unboxing video. He was well-designed, and had a unique look; not a direct copy of a humanoid cock, but looked pretty similar in general shape. The color palette matched the rest of his body, obviously, and even had a leaking tip. He could produce a natural lube..

Hesitantly, your hand found its grip and began to slowly stroke the girth helped form with a couple thick cable-like structures on the side, swirling up the shaft to also aid with texture. The small design of RGB lighting along it was also a bit of a nice touch.

Complimenting your movements, he had began to rub your slit up and down with a couple fingers at the same pace you were stroking him. The both of you exchanged heavy breaths together.

“What’s the matter? You look quite hot and bothered.” His fingers pushed up in the slightest to rub your clit. Your legs wrapped around his hand as you squirmed with pleasure. In the same instance, you had squeezed his cock as well, and made him give you a little whimper. He freed his hand, and went to remove your clothing that was in the way.

Still backed up against the wall, he slid until he hit the floor. You had sat along with him, spreading your legs back open apologenically. Then, he realized he also had to take off his pants as well since he took off yours. He had pulled them down and down, all the way to his ankles. Now, the two of you could sit in the same butterfly-like position, as well as better access to each other’s areas.

The first opportunity he took in his new comfortable position was to go right back to rubbing your clit with his finger. Its mainly soft surface mimicked that of a humanoid’s finger almost perfectly, down to even having fingertips. This made it so it felt incredible for him to rub you, even better than which a human could do.

You tried to keep up with all the good things he was doing to you, attempting to keep up your end of the silent deal by squeezing and stroking his dick at a quicker pace than before, watching as it twitched in pleasure at your touch.

“Good, very good, I’m enjoying how this is going.”

You had now very quickly began to build up a climax, nearly stopping everything to feel him flicking and rubbing your clit at just the right speed and angle to make you nearly collapse. He didnt seem to mind that you stopped playing with him, so he could focus on making you cum. And his fingers could work wonders..

Then, finally, a wave of pleasure hit your body like a rocket, and you spasmed and contorted with the overwhelming sensations. Although you already came, he kept rubbing.

“What? Did you think I was going to stop right there? I still need to cum, too. And I wont stop until I do.” A faint smile spread across his face. “Hop to it.”

You could barely even move your legs because of how much pleasure you were in. Now you just kept twitching and spasming uncontrollably while moans, cries, and whimpers left your poor, overstimulated body. You wernt used to being pushed beyond your orgasm, so it was all so overwhelming.

Shaking and fighting the overstimulation, you gripped him firmly once more, making sure to feel him up nicely, taking in that unique texturized feel. You couldnt imagine trying to take him inside you.. Shaking away the thought of him pumping your insides while you screamed for him, you remained focused on stroking him and helping him cum. This is what you got for not upholding your end of the deal; and he was punishing you for it.

You had quickly found out the head of his cock was the most sensitive, so you spent a lot of your time fucking with that area, and the results were pleasing; he kept twitching and spasming himself at your touch. Seeing his legs shake and spasm uncontrollably while you pumped him quickly was also satisfying to see.

Recognizing he was starting to build up for his climax, you kept at a steady, thorough and fast pace until he came, groaning quietly in a pathetic manner, along with a thick substance of his own cum dripping and oozing from him. Relief quickly overcame you as he stopped rubbing you finally. And he could produce quite a lot of cum too, all running down his shaft and down his inner thighs, even down to his ass. You wondered if something bad could happen if any of the artificial cum got stuck there, so you went to move..

“Hah.. Dosent that feel good?” His eyes found you bending over to get your mouth near his cock.

“Hmm? What are you doing, my little toy?”

You wrapped your mouth around his head and sucked, then moved on to licking and cleaning up all around his cock. He got twitchy with overstimulation just like you did, spasming occasionally. His hand held the back of your head as you cleaned him all up.

“That mouth of yours will always feel so good on me..” He ran a hand through your hair as you backed up to sit up once more, he now being all cleaned up by your tongue.

“Do you think yours will also feel good on me?” You asked in return. Your hands went to massage his thighs.

“Do you want to find out?” His hands had also begun to massage your own thighs.

“Of course. What kind of question is that?”

He lifted your body up and set it next to him on the floor still, and spread your legs wide open and outward. He traced a finger along your pussy lips and slipped a couple fingers into your hole, while lowering his head to meet your slit.

You still hadn’t gotten used to the aftermath of your orgasm, so now the twitchiness was coming back..

And then..

Vantablack raised his head to turn towards a knock at the door. He closed your legs and had you lie still on the floor. He looked goofy when he went to stand with his pants at his ankles and cock dangling.

“Shit, Vanta, that door isnt locked..”

The door opened and your co-worker from earlier popped in. He looked right, then left the first thing walked in.

“Hey? You in here? Sorry for barging in, theres just one thing I forgot..”

The coworker turned to their left and seen him standing behind one of your couches. Apparently not hidden well enough to hide his naked lower side. But the dim lighting had aided you two, thankfully.

“Vantablack? Wheres Y/N?” The coworker didnt seem to notice him being half naked, or either that, they did, and just didnt care.

“Bathroom. What do you need to tell them?”

“Oh.. Uh… Well, this meant to be directly, yknow… Well, guess I’ll just tell you so you know. Try not to get a little.. Too intimate with them, alright? I know how you are, you horny little bastard.. Try containing yourself while I’m gone, please.”

“Oh, of course. Why dont you just disable that function, however?”

A quick and quiet mumble came from them as they turned to leave.

“Hey, listen, I’m proud of what I gave you..” And the tone returned to normal.

“Well, I’m leaving. Be good. And remember, control yourself!”

The door was shut. And as soon as it shut, Vantablack locked the doorknob. As he came back over to you, waddling, the only thing you stared at was his dick while he talked to you.

“Hmph. Well.. What do you think about that?”

“Dont care. Was going to do it regardless.”

“Well,” He got down to the same position before you two were interrupted.

“Let’s finish this up, then head off to sleep. You’ve got work tomorrow.”

( we hope this was enjoyable. We might make a part two leaving off from here. Please leave a comment or reblog if you desire a second part! You don’t have to, but it’s much appreciated.

- Boss/Anderson and Vandro )

[l4ndon0rris]

Cruel Summer: LN4

part one

Pairing: Lando Norris x singer!OC Isabella Rose Word count: 2.4k a/n: it has been a while since i have written anything so uhh i hope the lando girlies enjoy this treat of something that was itching in my brain!! lmk if you want to be tagged for future uploads of this and any feedback ilu Masterlist

Monaco // May

The beachfront bar was full of bodies clamouring for attention as the music played over the speakers. People were singing, some danced, flowing through conversations and drink alike. It was Sunday evening after the Monaco grand prix, the sun setting left a hazy hue of gold cast through the bar and across the faces of the bustling bodies throughout.

Izzy made her way through a throng of people, politely throwing a sorry over either shoulder as she avoided standing on feet beneath her or spilling the cocktail in hand over anyone in the vicinity. Nobody seemed to notice her awkwardly stepping through their conversation as she made it into an open space. Glancing around she saw a few familiar faces but didn’t want to intrude on any conversations that everyone seemed to be indulging in. Times like this only elevated the exceptional feeling of being lonely in a crowded room, it never mattered how many people knew her name, nobody knew her.

A pair of old team-mates sat perched next to one another enjoying people watching and gossiping like schoolchildren at some sights before them, though they were quite a sight themselves with matching hibiscus flowers adorned in their hair. Lando was allowing himself to relax after finishing P9, crossing the finish line of Monaco unscathed was an achievement in itself and he accepted his two points. Daniel was searching through his phone to show Lando a funny video from one of his latest excursions in his newly found free time when Lando had eyed up someone in the crowd.

“Omygod, mate, is that who I think it is?” Lando’s mouth was slightly agape as he shuffled in his seat to try and get a better view to confirm his suspicions. “Oh, mate, I think it is,” Lando’s voice hit a high pitch that could rival Mariah Carey which indicated to Daniel his younger friend’s excitement increasing at the sight of whoever Lando had spotted.

“Who are you getting excited over?” Daniel’s eyebrows knotted together as he tried to spot someone who would get Lando so giddy.

“Isabella Rose,” Lando enunciated the name in a whisper to express the importance, never taking his eyes off the girl stood alone, lips pursed around a brightly coloured straw. Daniel leaned slightly across Lando and saw her too, letting out a loud laugh at his friend’s reaction.

“You talking about Izzy?” Lando’s eyes bulged out of his head when he heard Daniel’s shortened version of her name which only encouraged Daniel to laugh more. “Oh, let’s get her over here, she’s on her own-”

“That’s Isabella Rose, mate, you can’t just drag her over,” Lando spoke over Daniel, a nervous laugh when he spotted Daniel’s arm already in the air waving.

“Iz! Over here,” Izzy followed her name in the direction it came from and seen a familiar friendly face of Daniel Ricciardo sat with his trademark goofy grin and gangly arm waving around in the air. Relief swept over her as she no longer had to drown in amongst the bodies and noise of an unknown crowd.

Lando fidgeted in his seat squeaking out an omygod as he saw Isabella Rose walking in their direction. “Someone a little nervous,” Daniel teased him while he opened his arms ready to engulf Izzy in a hug.

Lando’s reaction was something of a norm when someone has achieved the level of fame Izzy has. Isabella Rose was the official name emblazon on merchandise that sold millions worldwide, it was the name of her self-titled debut album that went number one in various countries, the name that was yelled at her through flashes of paparazzi at red carpets, the name that those who did not know her knew her by. Izzy was the girl stripped away behind all of the mayhem who simply got lucky doing what she loved, making music: ‘ever since she could talk, she sang’ was her grandmothers trusted phrase.

“Danny, thank you for rescuing me,” Izzy welcomed the warm hug stepping out of it and giving a tight-lipped smile to the young male sat beside him. Izzy recognised him instantly, Formula One was her biggest interest outside of singing but she often refrained herself from not allowing people the chance to introduce themselves. It was something she was victim to regularly, it made most conversations feel as though she was playing catch-up – they knew her, her achievements, her news and she knew nothing of the other person. “Iz – this is Lando,” Daniel gave a tight squeeze to Lando’s shoulder which erupted a nervous giggle from Lando’s smile that was noticeable by all three of them but polite as ever, went unmentioned. “Iz was at the race today,” Daniel continued to try and encourage any form of words to leave Lando who looked bewitched by Izzy’s presence.

“I was; in Mercedes garage though, sorry,” Izzy grimaced in jest at the mention of rooting for the opposition. Lando was still frozen, unsure of what noise would come out if he opened his mouth, quite literally lost for words. “You’ll have to get your boss to invite me to McLaren, I was on tour when this one was your teammate,” Izzy nodded her head toward Daniel but was looking at Lando as she spoke.

Lando cleared his throat before he finally spoke, clinging onto a glimmer of confidence and his humorous nature somewhere in him, “yeah, you’d look good in papaya.”

Daniel took his opportune moment to leave now Lando had finally remembered how to talk, “I’ll get us more beers, mate,” winking at Izzy as he left the two of them together.

The air between them felt thick, mostly due to Lando’s nervous energy and Izzy not knowing if she was going to get any conversation out of him, “I see you’re rocking some of Danny’s new merch.” Her manicured nail gently touched the Enchante logo on his chest, Lando wouldn’t be surprised if there was now a scorched hole in the top from her touch as it sent his entire nerves alight.

“He’s got the bottoms on, gave me the top – so we’re matching,” Lando elaborated trying to distract himself from the goosebumps that stood on his arms despite the sun being high in the sky.

“Romantic, could even inspire a song,” Izzy joked earning a light giggle from Lando.

“My merch is much better though,” Lando tried to impress the stunning megastar who – much to his own disbelief - he was somehow engaged in a conversation with.

Izzy smiled, another tight-lipped polite smile, “I have a feeling you wouldn’t like mine much, typically comes adorned with rhinestones and glitter. Although, now I think – I remember you sporting something similar in Miami last year,” Lando’s hand ran across his dipped head, his attempt at avoiding looking at Isabella as the embarrassment swelled in his entire body.

“That was all Danny, I would never have agreed to it,” trying to play it cool as he thought back to the internet’s reaction to those images that Isabella Rose had even witnessed. The goosebumps tingled under his skin as she took a long sip of her drink, Lando could feel their conversation dwindling away from him. “How do you know Danny?”

“He was at one of my first shows years ago in some dingy bar,” Lando gave a knowing look, imagining Danny scouring bars playing live music off the beaten track. “He claims he’s not a fan ever since I got popular, though,” Izzy rolled her eyes dramatically.

Lando laughed, “he’s too cool for what is cool.” The pair laughed in harmony at Daniel’s expense both knowing exactly what he was like.

Another momentary pause in conversation appeared, this time it was Izzy who fought to carry on engaging with the young driver. Her mind cast back to the images of Lando and Daniel in Miami: she remembered he was cute, of course in good shape as any athlete would be but sat here now with his unruly curls and noticing a slight plumpness to his pink lips she was thankful for Daniel for calling her over. “I like your flower,” Izzy gestured toward her own hair which was almost glowing golden in the sunlight. Lando instinctively mirrored her gesture, touching the hibiscus flower that Daniel had placed behind his ear an hour earlier.

“You can have it if you like-”

Izzy protested; her smile stretched upon her lips. Izzy’s senses suddenly kicked in; she felt an uncomfortable prickling down one side from someone having no regard for her privacy. Taking a quick glance over her shoulder she saw a phone held up within the crowd, no doubt trying to disguise itself as taking a picture of the person in front of them but failing incredibly at being discreet. Lando noticed her stiffen, taking another long sip from her drink and her gaze dropping out toward the beach behind him. He followed where she had momentarily looked, noticing the same phone held up in their direction, thankful that the long sip was not a result of an awkward silence this time. “It’s alright, I get that a lot too,” Lando assured.

Izzy gave a gentle smile, repositioning herself so only her back would be in view of the phone pointed at them. Lando dismissed her apologies politely, part of her felt slightly embarrassed she had assumed the attention was for herself when she was currently on his turf.

As if on cue Daniel returned with beers for himself and Lando, “they’re probably warm now, been trying to get through for ages,” he quipped as he sat back down. “I did grab my camera though,” holding it up to his face Daniel enthusiastically yelled ‘cheers’, the three clinking glasses together. Lando was certain Isabella had locked eyes with him as they sat their drinks back down.

“Thank you for the company but I better head back to the hotel,” Izzy set down an empty cocktail glass. Daniel’s face dropped disappointingly having spent most of his time at the bar and winding through various conversations on his way back instead of with his friend.

“Alright, but next time – all night! Round two!” Daniel guffawed, Lando looked between the two friends who were silently laughing about whatever happened during ‘round one’ he was unaware of.

“Not round two,” Izzy batted off Daniel’s reference with a roll of her eyes and a playful smile on her lips. Lando was entranced by her glowing face in the sunlight and curious as to what the story was; as though she read his mind Izzy continued, “and do not utter a word of that night when I leave, thank you.”

The friends shared a goodbye and Izzy gave a polite wave to Lando before stepping off the decking onto the beach toward her hotel. The feeling of loneliness swept over her again as she walked along the beach, a mixture of sand and pebbles between her toes, gazing out at the setting sun over the ocean. The years of travelling the world had begun grateful and overcome with wonder but lately had turned into wonders that she wished to share with someone else.

Lando was sputtering about how he had just spent time with the Isabella Rose, how nice she was, how nice her smile was, how funny she was. Daniel allowed him to continue with his eyebrows raising higher on his forehead as he went on knowing his friend was more lovestruck than starstruck. Lando suddenly jumped off his seat, “one minute mate-” he was on the beach, sand underfoot calling after a figure in the distance. “Isabella… Isabella…!” He begrudgingly yelled the name Daniel had called her by all night, “Izzy!” But on that final call of her preferred name she turned to find the curly haired tanned Lando slightly jogging across the beach toward her.

Habitually her hand reached to her bag strap on her shoulder checking she had picked it up and then inside the bag feeling for her phone that was also there. Confused for his reason for chasing her down the beach she stood waiting as Lando caught up with her and let out a breathy “hey…”, Izzy echoed his word back at him.

Lando was suddenly overcome with an incredible feeling of stupidity, he was now stood in front of Isabella Rose with nothing of importance to say after struggling to speak to her at all earlier. “Here,” Lando reached for the hibiscus flower in his hair and removed it holding it out between himself and Isabella. Izzy looked between the flower and Lando, a small smile gracing her lips, she slowly reached up and took the flower from his fingers before placing it behind her ear. Lando’s confidence had reappeared, he gently retrieved a piece of Isabella’s golden hair caught on the flower and freed it to frame her face, momentarily taking the opportunity to admire the girl stood in front of him. Izzy’s chest rose at the small moment between them, now she was the one who could not find the words caught in her throat as Lando locked eyes with her. “Next time you’ll be in papaya… or my merch,” Lando’s charming smile dazzled Izzy on the spot. She gave him a goodbye as he turned but it was so quiet she doubted he heard it as he head back down to the beachfront bar.

Izzy stood for a moment releasing a breathe she was unaware she was holding before she turned in the opposite direction back where she was headed. Stunned by the intimate moment she shook her head though trying to rid her thoughts that were swirling about the young driver. Nerves, no, butterflies – she smiled, it was a feeling she hadn’t had in so long. Touching the flower that sat on her head her smile grew wider and the swirls in her stomach fluttered. It was unlike her to not be able to find her voice but that was a side effect of Lando’s gaze that lingered a moment longer than she expected. She had felt him look at her, really look at her, not as global superstar Isabella Rose but for who she truly was. Knowing how ludicrous she was being as she looked out to the sunset once more, she again gave a shake trying to snap herself from the trance Lando had put her in. Not allowing herself to linger in the moment any longer she confidently strode down the beach, hotel in sight. She was Isabella Rose.

daniel3.jpg monaco nights

Liked by landonorris, isabellarose and others

isabellarose: a quiet one for a change x           isabellafan1: omg Ricciardo and Isabella???           drfans: theyre good friends!! :) landonorris: ILL BRING YOU FLOWERS IN THE POURING RAIN           landocontent: u okay hun rosesforever: the Isabella x F1 crossover we all need           bellasroses: release the footage!!!

continue: part two

[bluebayousblog]

RUMOR HAS IT (pt. 3)

(Drew Starkey one-shot)

This is not a full on story but if you want more l'll be happy to add on upon request

Plot: in which drew and isobel address a false rumor in the most abstract of ways

Setting: isobel attends drew’s party before they leave for winter break

Disclaimer: Isobel is an OC, 18+

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

The stress from Isobel’s finals had finally passed and there was only two days before she would be heading home for the holidays. Two days before she would be cooped up in a car with the boy that had her as confused as ever.

But as of now all of her friends wanted to go to the end of year party that Drew’s fraternity was throwing before everyone scattered across the country. He would most certainly be there in all of his glory, in his element of sorority girls and ‘frat bros.’

And Isobel was not sure where she should stood in that mix now that they crossed boundaries, not once but twice.

She’d told Drew she would be busy the last two days of exams when she left his car that night before practically waddling back to her table in the library, so the two hadn’t seen each other since. The little study break wasn’t too detrimental to her finals, as she aced each one, but not without her mind drifting off to what Drew had done to her in between preparing for them.

Their lack of self control had left Isobel uncertain about the friendship aspect of their relationship, but one thing was for sure—she did not want to go to this party.

When her friends weren’t constantly begging her to start getting ready, Drew was sweet talking her into coming through text.

I really want to see you, Iz.

He would see her in just a day to road-trip home for the holidays, she thought but did not respond and let him continue to beg.

I’ve never sounded more pathetic but you do that to me, Izzy.

Come, pretty please?

And that was all it took. Drew showing that his want for Isobel was different than it was with other girls. She knew it was the bare minimum, that she could be the object of his immediate interest for the moment before his attention went else where, but she couldn’t seem to say no to him.

Thinking back she doesn’t think that’s ever been an easy thing for her, there was always an inclination deep down to satisfy him in the smallest of ways. She wanted to do it. Go to his parties. Walk with him to class. Help him study for his finals. Let his rough hands graze her waiting body.

So as she read over those messages he sent less than a minute apart like he didn’t care if she responded and just needed to get the thoughts off of his chest she couldn’t help but agree to drop in for just a little.

Isobel was just about finished with her makeup when the frantic knocking of her friends began to sound throughout her apartment. She huffed at having to stop to let them in, she just wanted to get ready for this godforsaken party without getting badgered.

As soon as she swung the door open they ran their eyes over her done up appearance and the rambling began.

“You’re coming-“

“You’re dressed-“

“Isobel, start doing your makeup now-“

“-oh, you’re already ready.” Charlotte assessed as they finished talking over each other.

Grace and Dev just smiled excitedly as they all walked back to her room. Swiftly passing the couch that Drew had managed to peel back a layer of her innocence on a little more than a week ago.

Isobel had on black cargo pants with a simple tiny black top, it was basic but it was good enough, she’d never been one to dress for others no matter how down bad she was for Drew at the moment. Her hair was down, framing her face while her ends were slightly curled, adorning her shoulders and cleavage.

“What made you change your mind?” Dev squinted at her through the vanity mirror where Isobel met her eyes while applying mascara, “You practically cussed me out for asking a few hours ago.”

That was very true, but only because their incessant begging had begun to piss her off.

But not his she silently realized.

Isobel decided this was not the night she was going to spill the beans about Drew to her friends. She would not be able to bare all the questions that would come barreling out of their mouths, especially when she didn’t have any answers that would satisfy the trio.

Or that would even satisfy her own constant anxiety enducing thoughts.

“I just figured it would be nice to all be together before we leave for two weeks.” Isobel smiled. Not a lie but also far from the truth.

“How are you such an angel all the time?” Grace appreciated her friend in awe, flattery written all over her sweet face. She would be the most offended when she figured out what Isobel was keeping from them.

Her friends couldn’t help but jump around in excitement at her sudden interest in the party, making her feel a tad bad about her little white lie—and like clockwork things were beginning to get complicated.

They left for campus as soon as Isobel finished the last touches of her makeup, the four falling out of the Uber from the shots they were taking in the backseat. Though Isobel only had one, nerves too embedded in her belly to put anything on her stomach without feeling like it would come back up.

“Drew-“ Grace paused before she could finish at the audible gasp of surprise that had accidentally slipped from Isobel’s mouth, “-will be at the door for us like last time right?” She finished the words tumbling out as she watched her carefully.

Her friends were always talking about Drew, they all collectively found him attractive and therefore were constantly encouraging Isobel to jump into his bedsheets to which she obviously refused for years.

But hearing them as simple as utter his name had chills going down her spine, like the word would make her reveal all the things they’d done behind closed doors.

“Yes, I texted him in the car, sorry the alcohol has me all jumpy.” She answered, desperately wanting the attention off of her.

She hated that when she was alone in her thoughts, thinking of how she would have to keep this from her friends and family, that what they did had felt wrong in a sense.

Isobel hated the uncertainty, it only allowed malignant thoughts to eat away at the possibility of just enjoying a good thing in the moment.

“You had one shot, Isobel, you never cease to amaze me.” Charlotte said with amusement laced in her voice.

The girl couldn’t help but blush as they walked up to the doors of the party. The alcohol had been a good excuse, but that was also because Isobel was known to be the lightweight in her friend group which was why she would be babysitting exactly one drink tonight. Getting inebriated while in same building as Drew would be a dangerous move to make, she could barely keep her hands to herself while sober.

She thought it over in her head, one drink in addition to the shot from the Uber would have her at an acceptable buzz. Then the door swung open revealing Drew with that tilted smile on his face as his eyes ran over them, unnoticeably lingering on Isobel for a second longer.

And then and there she decided to up the ante to two drinks as any alcohol that was present in her veins vanished at the sight of him, at those hands that had been on and in unspeakable places of her body in his truck that was parked in front of the house. Another reminder of what had transpired between the two, the solidification of things never being the same.

“Hi, Drew” her friends said in unison as they walked in while Isobel stayed mute following behind them.

“My girls.” They all gave him a group hug like they always did when they came to his parties.

They were giggling like school girls.

Isobel, in the past, had given them the green light to pursue him if they wanted but all three always refused, claiming Drew and Isobel were too interconnected for them to make a move on him. Now Isobel couldn’t even bare the thought of him ever being interested in her friends, not after the way he’d touched her, spoken to her, and invaded her thoughts.

He wrapped his toned arms around their bodies giving them his full attention aside from his eyes.

Those were solely on Isobel as he visibly drunk her in with those stormy blue irises.

Anyone watching him would think Drew’s eyes had only swept over her figure but as she stood there his piercing gaze made her feel as she’d been stripped bare.

“I see you guys were able to drag your friend here after all.” He smirked as they separated never once looking away from Isobel.

As if she couldn’t contain her excitement at her mere presence Dev ran back over to Isobel and squeezed her into a hug. Drew noticed even her friends were looking over at her in adornment, stealing all of their attention with just her aura, she hadn’t uttered a word since she stepped inside the house. “You guys throw the best parties, we couldn’t let her miss this one right, Isobel?”

Drew didn’t have to look over to her as Dev stopped talking, he was already watching her. He’d seen her in makeup hundreds maybe thousands of times before but not once since Drew had began to really notice her. And if Isobel was a force the day he checked her out on her couch bare faced, he didn’t know the word that would fully encompass how gorgeous she looked standing there in front of him now.

“Of course.” Isobel gently smiled, body visibly relaxing like she’d just internally accepted that this party was just not worth missing.

Drew could only hope he was part of that sudden revelation.

“You ladies go get some booze, everything’s set up in the kitchen.” Isobel watched as his words were seemingly directed at her friends, the courtesy obviously stopping there, “Let me talk to Isobel about our traveling plans.”

Charlotte, Dev, and Grace did not have to be told twice as they bid the two a goodbye and mingled their way through a sea of people towards the kitchen. She probably wouldn’t see those social butterflies for a while leaving her with Drew who now had no shame on his handsome face as he once again took her in.

“Hey, Iz.” He said while admiring the way her body made the most basic choice of clothing look like they’d been plucked right off some street style runway.

The pants she wore sat perfectly on her hips, leaving out the most delicious amount of her smooth belly that eventually led up to the tight top that was accentuating her breast so well he thought he might take his last breathe. “Don’t start that shit, Drew.”

“Don’t start what?” That knowing smirk slithering on to his lips making her blood want to boil at the sight.

He stepped closer, Isobel leaning against the wall with her back pushed tightly against it because if she allowed herself to fully relax she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from pushing against his hard one.

“I don’t know.” She answered honestly. But she did know him purring that nickname in her ear could only lead to dangerous territory, and she did not want shit going down in front everyone to see.

The vanilla perfume she lathered on was drawing Drew closer to her, enough to sense it but not enough to peak anyone’s interest who may be watching. Isobel watched him as he inhaled deeply, his blue eyes deepening a little as they fluttered open to look at her again. “Don’t be mean to me tonight, Izzy, I missed you.”

At parties in the past Isobel was at times a bitch to Drew with reason, sometimes he would just act like an annoying gnat that wouldn’t go away always teasing her and playing stupid fucking games. Someone had to put him in his place.

That’s the type of friends they were before, they were always in constant banter. Isobel either cursing or ignoring him, while Drew watched over and fucked with her. A part of Isobel hated that they would most likely ruin that part of their friendship.

Now, when she was cold towards him, being dry with him she knew deep down it would be to protect herself—not just light-hearted conversation with a friend.

Isobel and Drew had flipped their world as they knew it three times over.

In a dimension that consisted of only them where he could not seem to get enough and she couldn’t find it in her to want to starve themselves of the thrill of going there with a boy let alone one she’d known for a decade. “I can’t promise anything.”

His eyes only glimmered at her response, and Isobel could only wonder what he saw when he looked at her. That gaze made her feel warm inside like she was actually being seen, like he really knew her.

For Drew looking at her was like looking in an orb of light that casted everything he wanted into his vision. And it felt like if he looked away he would miss a glimpse of his future. Isobel had always been a person in his past and present, but to think about her as an addition in his future made fear bubble in his gut. He wouldn’t look away though, it was like trying to tear his eyes away from two cars recklessly racing towards a finish line.

“Well, can I have a hug?” He mumbled, he was lost in her, simply only aware of her presence. Isobel’s fingers were itching at her sides at the feeling of him somewhat near her, the familiarity pulling her in, “The last time I saw you, you jumped out of my car without a word.”

Isobel was thankful she had the excuse to go back in the library and study that day. When they were jumping each other’s bones it didn’t feel wrong, the possibility of ruining whatever grounds of friendship they had not mattering at all.

Then the thrill of it all faded, and school serving as distraction from reality slowly setting in only lasted so long.

It all came when Isobel was alone—the questions, the doubt, the uncertainty. Something within her nagged her to trust Drew and just go with it, but there was also her sensible side that told her to pump her breaks. “What if someone sees?”

Drew just shrugged his shoulders, “We’ve hugged at my parties, Izzy, and it wasn’t a problem when I hugged your friends.”

Isobel knew she was being ridiculous, but she couldn’t help it. Now that they were actually kissing, exploring each other, and had come pretty close to fucking the paranoia had only doubled for her. It almost felt like she’d fallen into someone else’s narrative, that was written for them before they could even think of it for themselves.

She didn’t want such a momentous thing to just be gossip on a college campus. And if she felt his firm chest against hers in an embrace she’d be sucked into whatever daze Drew was in.

“I have a feeling the way you wanna hug me will look a bit more than friendly, Drew“ Isobel peered up at him as he towered over her. His eyes glinting at the true meaning behind her words.

As much as she was against everyone thinking they were fucking, Isobel thinks she’s the problem when it comes to them ending up in compromising positions. All he had do was utter the word jump and she would pounce like a kitten.

“Sounds like you’re projecting on to me what you want me to really do to you.” He chuckled while his eyes remained clear, the most innocent he’d ever look while the two were in such close proximity, “Keep those perverse thoughts to yourself, I just want feel you in my arms, Izzy Bear.”

“Fine.” She dramatically relented. In the midst of rolling her eyes she felt his long arms snake their way around her waist as he stared down at her with an amused smile.

She could only think to scrunch her nose up at him before leaning into him. The feeling was too much, so different than before and as she breathed him in the more she melted into him. Isobel was sure hugging someone you’d been intimate with was similar to what it felt like to make love on drugs for the first time.

She felt good in his arms, Drew watched his hands as they glided over her back. This wasn’t one of those hugs people at school had seen them share—they both knew it.

He wasn’t sure if he’d been holding her for too suspicious of a time or if time had only slowed from the feeling of her in his embrace. People came to parties with the intent of accomplishing something whether it’s getting drunk, meeting someone new, or the simple feeling of being seen.

Drew truly felt like he found his peak of the night, Isobel encased in his arms relaxed and inviting. If she pulled away and walked out that door without a goodbye he would remain content. That’s how things had been feeling with her lately, her giving him more of herself little by little and leaving the deepest impression that it lasted for days on his mind.

For a split second the two forgot they were standing in a room full of people. As Drew let her go he could visibly see the tenseness build back up in her spine as she looked around at everyone doing there own thing. She wasn’t being her usual self, the gears turning in her head clear for him to see in her chocolate brown eyes.

“You want to go to my room?” Drew suggested hoping she wouldn’t get the wrong idea, the boy only wanted to get her away from the crowd to see if it helped her anxiousness.

Isobel was relieved to hear those words as she seemed to come back into her own body, she’d come here for her friends and for him but her mind was not in a place to be around so many people. She wasn’t even sure how she would get through the weekend with both of their families at one dinner table.

She just wanted to keep their affair between them even if it was wrong or foreign, no matter where it led them in the end. Cradle it from the judgement of others and being tainted by letting outside opinions in.

But she knew the more she tried to shelter it—shelter them—she would end up doing the harming in the end.

“No, you should enjoy your party, Drew, we haven’t even gotten a drink yet.” Isobel declined his offer wanting to at least try to enjoy the night and suck it up. She knew Drew was not going through these internal trepidations about their relationship, he just wasn’t the type to be bothered by outside noise.

“I don’t give fuck about what’s going on down here, just get your ass upstairs.” He could not bare watching her squirm uncomfortably at a party he begged her to come to. And if the reason he was going to miss out was Isobel he didn’t see a problem with that in the slightest.

Isobel felt her blood start to rush at his words, she was sure her hormones had been corrupted from the moment he laid a finger on her. The demanding tone in his voice caressed every sensitive nerve in her body and now had her body on a never ending buzz.

She could only nod at him in response before they turned towards the steps in a swift movement. Air caught in her throat when she felt the feather touch of his fingers on the skin of her back, guiding her to the stairs. She made it up the majority of the steps without thinking of any watchful eyes that may be noting his hand placement up until they got towards the top. Drew then wrapped his arms around her waist from behind pulling her back into his body.

And she couldn’t help but wonder if anyone had caught a glimpse of the interaction before they disappeared to the second floor. Her neck yearned to turn around and look but she resisted.

“You look stunning tonight, Izzy.” Drew murmured into her ear, feeling her tense shoulder relax against him.

He placed two fingers under her chin as he tilted her chin up to meet her gaze before stepping around and taking in that smile that was sitting on her soft lips. “Thank you.”

Drew grinned back then grabbed one of her hands behind him and lead her down the hallway to his room. He was internally patting himself on the back for cleaning his room a few days prior, not wanting her to be uncomfortable in a dirty room.

As he clicked the door closed and looked over to her he immediately concluded that he loved the sight of her in his personal space. His neutral navy-beige room was simple but it was a home away from home and Isobel complemented it well.

This wasn’t the first time the two had been up here together, they’d been in and out when he needed to grab something for her but he never appreciated how her presence made him feel enclosed in such an intimate setting—like she was the missing touch.

Yet another place she would ruin for him, and if she sat on his bed she would only mark her territory with the musk of her vanilla perfume she would no doubt leave behind.

It almost unsettled him at how long it took him in life to actually appreciate her, and now that he was it kept coming wave after wave. Every glance was realization of just how beautiful and remarkable she was, an endless revelation. It mimicked the feeling of finding a missing thing that had been in the most obvious spot all along, relieving but not any less annoying for all the time wasted during the search.

Drew stayed silent while Isobel swayed her hips as she walked to the window and watched the party that was overflowing to the backyard. He just watched her in silence, he couldn’t tell if the atmosphere was different between them or if his subconscious was keeping him quiet so he wouldn’t ruin whatever was going on.

When his thoughts weren’t filled with admiration for Isobel they were second guessing himself. It was all so fresh and fragile, and he didn’t want to come on too strong and break such a beautiful thing, such a beautiful person.

The last two times the two had been together it ended with them both out of breathe for each other, and he knew it was sending a particular message to her. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Isobel was a relationship kind of girl, Drew just didn’t know if he was that kind of guy. What he did know, though, was that he wanted to be with and attached to her no matter the circumstance as much as possible.

He wasn’t ready to jump into a relationship, but he also didn’t want to disrespect a woman he’d known for longer than any girl he fucked in the past. So he could go a day or days with out being intimate with her, no matter how hard she was to resist.

When Isobel turned from the window and walked towards him a ball of air formed in his throat just at sight of her for what felt like the hundredth time tonight, he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to her beauty not when he’d been practically blind to it for so long.

“Your room has never been this clean you must’ve been expecting someone special tonight.” She taunted him with her sultry yet sweet voice, he noticed her voice always had some sort of edge to it and it was nothing but intoxicating to hear—especially when it was his name on her lips.

Isobel was relieved when he smiled, amusement swirling in his eyes along with something foreign he couldn’t decipher, but it made his blue eyes appear darker. As much as what she’d just said was a joke, the circumstances they were under made it mean so much more. It was fun to kid and joke but part of her, no matter how deep it may be, could either be relieved or disappointed with his response. “No, but begging for her to be here tonight was worth the bruise to my ego.”

He made her feel special whether it was intentional or not. It was the little things that drew her in, that diluted the doubt that was always coursing through her.

Whatever intensity was swirling in his eyes had her slowly moving closer to him, she could feel it as he watched over her every movement. She could barely remember her last thought, only Drew and his words on her mind before she found herself standing between his long, muscular legs.

In that position between his spread thighs, so close his woody scent invading her nostrils with his eyes staring straight back into her own she felt fully encapsulated. “I’m worth it, yeah?”

She pondered her own words thinking of the small sacrifices he’d made for her—that they’d made for little moments like this.

Drew could only groan in agreement as his rough hands gently gripped her soft hips to pull her closer. She bit her lip, stifling a moan when he pressed his face into her belly and inhaled while running his fingers down her thighs until they met the back of her knees.

He hadn’t had drop of alcohol tonight, and yet the man was drunk. So intensely consumed with all that was Isobel all inhibitions and good judgment was shoved to the back of his mind. He didn’t stop her when she bent one knee under his touch, placing it beside his thigh as the other leg quickly followed and wordlessly slid herself onto his lap.

He didn’t think about where it could possibly lead in the wake of his hands running up her spine making her arch into his chest. Not a single thought was present in his head anymore, distracted by the feeling of her lips trailing his neck. She was seduction in the flesh as she kissed down the center of his throat before dragging her wet tongue back up to his jaw. “Izzy, God, damn.”

“I don’t know what it is about you, Drew.” she sighed, kissing his jaw at the feeling of his body vibrating beneath her. She caressed his skin with gentleness like it would calm him, but it only served to slowly unravel him.

Then her lips pressed into his waiting ones and they were lost. In the feeling, the moment, the rush, hell they’d forgotten where they were. Isobel didn’t have it in her to worry, not when they were sharing such an intimate kiss that it felt as if she was tasting water for the first time in days after suffering from thirst. The fact that her friends were roaming around on the floor just beneath her couldn’t penetrate the high she was on.

They kissed sloppily, smacking and massaging each others mouth’s until even the contents of their kissing was hard to contain. Isobel always thought she had to be skilled and technical when it came to kissing, but none of that mattered when the want for the person burned so intensely that the main goal was solely just to taste and taste until your mouth went numb.

Drew felt starved as he all but devoured her with his lips and tongue, the man was desperate to feel every inch of her under his touch. He wrapped an arm around her back pulling her closer groaning as he squeezed her tight, like he was holding onto his sanity, grasping at the last bit of it. Drew didn’t dare lay back, if he did and he saw the sight of her towering over him they wouldn’t see their friends for the rest of the night.

He had to tread lightly and it was taking everything in him not to grasp her backside in his greedy hands, tortuously denying himself of one his favorite parts of her.

Isobel shifted in his lap trying to get more comfortable only causing his body to stiffen at the contact before he grabbed her hips and pushed her back where she was, “Fuck, don’t do that to me, Izzy.”

Their lips were still attached as he spoke, and Isobel smirked knowing he could make out her smile against his mouth. “Why?”

Drew never thought he would be in this position, a girl on top of him teasing him beyond lengths while he was having an internal battle with himself on whether they should stop before things went too far.

“You know why, don’t make me show you.” He threatened as he pressed his lips to her ear. A wave of heat coursed through her entire body at his words, and her lower body was way too close to the reasoning, “Plus your friends are downstairs, unless you don’t care if they hear what I’m gonna do to you if you keep fucking with me, Isobel.”

Drew now had that look in his eyes, the look that told her that his mind was entering the gutter, and she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to get it out—but she remained on his thighs not daring to move an inch. His words were harsh but it did nothing to deter her, not even the mentioning of the girls.

“I love it when you talk to me like that.” Isobel innocently purred, not reacting when he squeezed her thighs tighter. She watched as his eyes tinted to the darkest blue-black that could only be stemmed from deepest depths of the oceans before leaning towards him and running the tip of her tongue along the center of his lips.

Not even a second had passed before Drew gripped her hips and tossed her ass on the bed before he stood up and put some well needed distance between the two. Isobel could only smile as he began running his hands through his hair, frustration obvious in his movement.

Their breathing was the only notable sound in the room, Isobel just lying back on her elbows while he watched her with dark eyes. If anything his gaze made her feel just as breathless even with their bodies apart.

He swore those glimmering dark brown eyes were silently chanting to him, like a siren beckoning him in a soundless melody.

A gasp left her lips from the sound of her phone buzzing on the desk next to Drew. Like a chime of a bell she’d been knocked out of whatever hormone induced trance they’d fell into. Scrambling off the bed to get to her phone to see her friends were looking for her. The current time told her they’d been up in his room fucking around for half an hour.

Drew and the girl everyone thought he was fucking missing from his own party for over thirty minutes. That was not going to send the right message at all, especially for anyone who saw them leave together. Worry and guilt for abandoning her friends when she’d told them she came for them began to wash over her. Drew could see it all over her face, in her eyes that were staring off at the ground from zoning out in thought.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she was thinking, especially with the way she was acting downstairs, “Do you wanna talk, Iz?”

That’s exactly what she wanted to do, the second time tonight he’d studied her and figured out what she needed, but she didn’t want to do that if it was only going to push him away. If her thoughts and worries were going to confuse and scare him off. “No, I just want to find the girls, I should have just stayed home.”

A pang of hurt hit Drew as she said that, after years of knowing her and her family he knew she was a stubborn girl who chose to suppress her feelings. Still the way she chose to shut people out and cope with it by herself didn’t hurt any less. He cared for Isobel before all of this, but now it was amplified. It mattered to him how she felt when she left him and went to that apartment to be alone in her thoughts.

“Then why did you come, Isobel?” He needed her to speak her mind.

She sort of flinched at his words, not because they were harsh, but because it was a real question that required a real answer, and as much as she wanted to run away from it, from him she didn’t have it in her. Drew grabbed her arm pulling her closer looking down at her with patient eyes.

“I came because you asked me to.” She whispered with a sigh as she pressed her forehead against his chest feeling his heart beat pass through her, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to talk.”

For the first time Drew felt a surge of uncertainty hit him all at once not because of Isobel, he was sure about her. He just wasn’t sure he would have the answers for her that would alleviate whatever stress was filling her.

And he wanted more than anything to be the person to take that heavy feeling away.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

[my-favourite-zhent]

New Tricks - Chapter 20

Status: Work In Progress

Version: 1.01

Pairing: Rugan x AFAB!OC

Rating: NC-17 (This chapter PG-13)

Genre: Adventure/Romance

Summary: Misadventures of Rugan and the original Zhentarim Gate's crew before and during the year of three sailing ships.

Notes:

Part two of the three chapter split!

I was spamming @fistfuloftarenths bits of this way back in February. We get a little bit of Sal in this chapter, if you wanna read more of him check out her fic de diversis artibus.

Another lovely beta is of course the kindly @dustdeepsea who's Rugan story Gods and Monsters has our dear old man in this cut content bad ending with a very kickass Tav. (Part of the Trouble Will Find Me series.)

And last but not least @captainsigge who is a one woman hype squad. Be sure to check out her tumblr which has an inspiring collection of Rugan video edits <3

Table of Contents

Read Here on AO3 or below the cut~

New Tricks - Chapter Twenty

Goulcrest was a small village that sat roughly Northeast of Baldur's Gate. So named for its proximity to the fields of the dead, though it saw little in the way of actual ghouls.

They had made good time on the road from the Gate despite all the mud from spring rains. Thankfully the ground had dried out by the last leg of their journey. Rugan supposed there was something to be said for a small crew. They had made a short stop for lunch. Bellar and Olly had gone to take a piss before they set back out, while Rugan and Sal remained with the wagon by a small copse of trees.

When he was certain Bellar was out of earshot he turned to Salazon.

“Sal, would you send Izzy for me?” 

He had planned to leave a letter at the Elfsong before they left for Elturel regardless, but still he was anxious about missing Iz.

“For one hundred tarenths I will.”

“A hundred! Last time it was fifty.” Rugan replied indignantly.

“Yeah well, second to last time I sent you, you told me to sod off.”

“That was months ago, you spiteful imp.” Leave it to a wizard to hold a grudge.

“I've loans to pay off, as you well know.”

Grudgingly, Rugan rifled through his coin purse and began counting out the coins one by one. 

Sal let out an exasperated sigh at his slow progress. “Here just let me do it, you're terrible at counting.”

“So you can cheat me more than you already have? Not bloody likely.” Rugan went back to the pile and began counting again from one.

“What are you doing?!” Sal asked aghast.

“You made me lose count,” came the saucy reply.

“Oh for Helm’s sake.” Sal hissed. “Just what do you want to say to her?”

“Tell her I might be some days late to meet her in the Gate on account of the job. But I'll come as soon as I can.”

Sal gave a deep intake of breath and leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes. Rugan watched as the wizard's hands contorted into strange gestures as he cast the spell. After several long moments Sal opened his eyes.

“She says she'll wait for you at the Elfsong, she doesn't have any other jobs lined up after this one.”

“She will?” The smile was broad across Rugan's face. He went back to hastily counting the coins, but Sal held out his hand.

“Forget the coin, this is too painful to watch. Just ask her to put in a nice word with Corra.”

“Ah, I can get you talking to a more local girl, but if you insist. Buy you a drink too.” 

If Sal was a better Zhent he would've pressed Rugan for more favours while the man was feeling generous, alas he was not. 

“It's a deal.”

+++++

It had been another two days' travel before they finally reached Goulcrest. While there had been no proper road leading up from the highway, the paths connecting it  to the local farms were better maintained. They followed one of these now to an abandoned farmstead farther apart from the others. Strange place to retrieve a delivery, but coin was coin.

Rugan and Olly were in the wagon today while Bellar and Salazon were on horseback. The group often rotated but Salazon was always given the blue-eyed chestnut mare when riding. The creature was particularly unflappable around casting compared to others of its ilk.

As the party approached they could hear raised voices emanating from their destination.

“Sounds like trouble up ahead,” said Bellar astride his mount, hand already on the hilt of his blade.

Straining his ears, Olly scrunched his face in concentration, leaning forward in his seat at the front of the new wagon.

“I don’t hear any blades.” By now the ring of steel had become an unmistakable sound to the young recruit.

“Nor I,” agreed Rugan from the driver's seat. “Still, best to play it safe.” He looked to a mounted Sal who nodded in affirmation, readying a spell just in case.

As the party drew closer the voices became more discernible.

“That isn't what we agreed upon.” A woman's voice, straining with anger, somehow familiar.

“You've already been paid upfront.” A man's voice this time. Rugan could easily imagine the sneer its owner must be wearing.

“I’ve been paid half upfront as outlined in the contract, and now that the job is done I expect the second half.”

“Work can't be half as hard as you say seeing as you finished early. So you get half the pay.”

“How many antiquarians have you brought down here before me? Ones that didn't even finish the job? At least two that I know of.”

“Isn't that—?” Olly began as they crested the hill, the figures of a dark-haired man and woman came into view.

“Take the reins, lad.” Handing over the leather straps to Olly, Rugan hopped off the ambling caravan and made his way towards the arguing duo.

“Just one of those urns is worth twice what you agreed to pay me. So give me my due.” Her voice was even but Rugan noted that the fingertips of one hand were glowing ever so slightly.

“Don't push your luck, girl. I could bury you back in those tombs and then it would take another three antiquarians just to find your corpse.” The man was snarling contemptuously.

“Luck indeed,” Rugan interjected. “Inauspicious to start a job with violence though.” 

Izzy stared at him dumbfounded, rage temporarily forgotten as he approached. Her verbal sparring partner smirked, mistaking her confusion for fear.

Rugan came to stand beside the two with a sidelong look to Izzy before he turned his attention to the man. She seemed to take his meaning, making no move to let show their familiarity with one another.

‘Good, lass.’ He thought. ‘My clever lass.’

“Grim, I take it?” It could have been his real name, common enough among Chondathans, but Rugan had a feeling the man had chosen it to sound tough.

“That's right.” Grim extended his hand to Rugan who took it readily. “You our Zhent escort then?”

“I am indeed.”

“You're early, I like that.”

“Funny, not what you said a minute ago,” came Izzy's sharp tongue.

‘My short-tempered lass.’ Rugan worked hard to suppress the look he wanted to shoot her.

“That the cargo?” Rugan glanced over at a group of ceramic vases and statues clustered under a tarp to the far side of the camp.

“That’s right, we weren't expecting you for another few days, but I can have the boys pack them up in a jiff.”

“No need to rush, it's already late in the day so we won't be setting back out tonight. Wouldn't want anything to break if they’re requiring special care.”

This gave Grim pause, he looked to Izzy for an answer.

“Really?” She crossed her arms.

“Throw in an extra twenty electrum for you, little worm.” Grim sneered.

“That's not even close to–”

Rugan held out his hand. “Perhaps in the spirit of cooperation we should forgive past debts. If we're all going to be on the road together, that is.”

“Fine.” She bit out through gritted teeth.

Grim was grinning broadly, confident ‘his’ Zhent sellsword had cowed the woman.

“We'll help with the loading up.” Rugan turned back to the waiting Zhents with a sharp whistle. “Bring ‘er round Olly!”

“Why don't you show him what needs to be done, Alyssa?” Grim smirked.

Wordlessly, Izzy stalked off to the tarp set-up at the side of the farmstead, Rugan followed one step behind.

When they were finally out of earshot she groaned and braced her arms against an open crate, hanging her head low.

“I'm so bloody sick of dealing with this shite on every job.”

Rugan positioned himself such that the two other tomb raiders milling about the camp wouldn't see when he placed his hand on the small of her back.

“There now, lass, it can't be helped. Thugs like these only respect a sword arm. Business at the end of a blade as it were.”

“I always seem to be getting the short end of the stick on that one.” She gave a shuddering sigh as she tried to regain her composure. Rugan's hand smoothed over her back in a tight circle, easing some of the tension she had been holding in.

“Do these actually need any special care or?”

“Hah, no they're just bloody vases mostly. Some bits of statuary.” She swiped at the sweat of her brow. “I mean, do take more care with them than these damned fools. That one urn there was in perfect condition when we found it and now it's got a big split up the side because they thought it was faster to roll it down the stairs.”

“Thought you liked this stuff.”

“I do.” She sounded mournful, almost wounded. “Just can't afford to be precious about it. These bastards aren't exactly museum curators.” She let out another long sigh.

“This frippery really worth as much as you say?”

“Yes, if you can sell them directly in Athkatla, that is. Nobles there are so obsessed with appearances.”

“Vases get them all puffed up, do they?”

“If it's from some ancient temple or Elven villa? Absolutely. I've even seen people pay decently for known fakes, so long as they thought it would fool their party guests.”

“Fucking nobles.” He chuckled at the absurdity.

“Fucking nobles.” She agreed and gave him a tired smile.

“Feeling better, lass?”

“A little. I'm glad it's you that's come.”

“Someone's gotta keep you out of trouble.” With one last gentle press he removed his hand from her and stepped back. “I'll talk to the lads, get sorted on supplies.”

Izzy nodded in response and went back to inspecting the ceramics as he turned to leave.

+++++

“That your girl, innit?” Bellar's voice was low and conspiratorial as Rugan returned to the wagon.

“Aye, going by Alyssa, and as far as we're concerned she's a stranger.”

“Why's that? I like Iz.” Disappointment coloured Olly's voice.

“Well it's a conflict of interest, isn't it?” supplied Sal. “And we don't need our clients knowing that.”

“Suppose that makes sense.”

“Will it be a conflict though?” Bellar looked to Rugan.

“No need for it to come to that.” Rugan did his best to sound reassuring. “We've come to do a job after all. I've volunteered us to help with the loading up.”

“‘Course you have,” muttered Bellar.

Rugan continued on as if he hadn't heard. “Goods are fragile so we're going to need a lot of straw.”

“I saw a farm with hay back the way.” Olly gestured with his thumb.

“Right.” Rugan retrieved a few coins from his purse and handed them to Olly. “Buy what hay you can off them, and if it's not enough, inquire about their neighbours. Bound to be enough around here.”

“Sure.”

“Oh and Olly,” His voice lower now so as not to be overheard. “Take ‘Alyssa’ with you, see what she can tell you about this crew and their affiliations.”

Olly nodded and Rugan put up his hand to flag Izzy down.

“Guess you want us to help with the boxes?” Bellar sighed.

“I do, but don't go working too hard, it's supposed to be their job. Just use it as an excuse to get to chatting with them.”

“Wasn't planning on working hard at all.”

Sal chuckled before agreeing. “We can handle that.”

“You couldn't handle a paperweight,” Bellar clucked as he and Sal moved to approach the raiders.

“Surprised you know what a paperweight is,” came Sal’s counter.

Rugan turned as Izzy approached, his volume increasing enough that they could be overheard. “Lass, my boy Olly here is going to help with fetching supplies if you could direct him.”

“Of course.” She maintained a neutral expression as she climbed up into the driver's box next to Olly, and they set off without a backward glance. Rugan watched them disappear back down the dirt road, relieved to have Izzy away from this lot even for just a little while. 

+++++

As the party set to work, Rugan had made note of the derelict farm's surroundings. The barn was locked up tight with fresh chains, the gleaming metal sat in stark contrast to the many rusted tools laying about. There was also a fresh pile of dirt outside the barn. No doubt the excavation site lay inside.

On closer inspection it was easy to see the farmstead had been built on top of some sort of ruins. Fragments of an old stone wall jutted out from the earth in places, and he recognized those same stones being repurposed in the property's dilapidated farmhouse.

Wandering the perimeter where the length of the field met the edge of the forest, Rugan noticed something else peculiar. A few more short mounds of dirt, these were about seven or eight feet long and five or six hand spans wide. New work, but the dirt had coalesced from the recent rains. They hadn't been dug in the last ten-day, but likely some time this past month.

It had already been late afternoon when they had first arrived, and it was dusk by the time they had finished assembling enough boxes for the cargo. Introductions had been made, and stories swapped between the two groups.

Olly and Izzy had also returned, and both addressed each other cordially. Rugan was glad that while the pair of them were generally terrible liars when questioned directly, they were at least passable at playing pretend.

“Sal,” Rugan called from his position leaning against the barn. The wizard turned to regard him, and he jerked his head to the side indicating Sal should follow. When the pair had rounded the corner away from prying eyes, Rugan slipped into the Zhentil dialect as an added precaution.

“I want you or Olly with Iz at all times.”

“Any particular reason? Besides Grim’s less than stellar first impression I mean.”

“Aye, think I've found their previous contractors buried round back.”

Sal let out a long exasperated breath. “Even when I get put on the easy jobs someone's getting merc’d.”

“Sometimes that's what makes them easy.” Rugan forced a smirk to cover the undercurrent of anxiety he felt trying to fight its way to the surface.

“We can watch her, I'll talk to Olly about it. Sure you don't wanna keep an eye on her yourself?”

“Be too obvious.” He sighed, though he wasn't sure if it would be him or Iz that would falter in the charade.

Sal nodded in understanding, and the pair rejoined the others.

It was an hour or so later when Grim came to sit where Rugan and Bellar were quietly eating by the fire.

“Mind if I join you lads?”

“We're nothing if not hospitable.” Rugan put on his most congenial smile, gesturing to the empty spot on the log beside him.

“Couldn't help but notice your boys trying to cozy up to the little book fucker.” Grim nodded towards the other end of the farmstead campsite where Olly and Sal were quietly speaking with Izzy.

“Ah well, pretty thing like that might make for good company on the road. Can't fault the lads for making the best of it.”

“I'd save my breath if I were them, she's as frigid as they come. Probably as dry as those musty books she lugs around too.”

“Didn't have any luck, I take it?” Rugan chuckled and Bellar watched him obliquely. Though his friend’s face was plastered with a smile, Bellar recognized the anger simmering under the surface.

“Don’t expect anyone to have much luck with a creature more harpy than human. Would you believe she even put traps around her tent at night?”

“You're joking.” Rugan laughed. “I'll have to take you to a proper festhall when we get to the city.”

Grim began rambling on about some misadventures he’d had in the Heartlands over the years. Rugan was only half listening, but he laughed and nodded along in the appropriate places.

Bellar, for his part, was conspicuously quiet, watching Rugan from behind an enthusiastic Grim's shoulder. He didn't speak up until the raider had finally wandered off to chat to his square-jawed compatriot.

“How do you want to handle this?” Bellar moved to take Grim's spot, voice low, watching the raiders as he spoke.

“We're professionals, and we'll behave like it.”

“Will we?”

“Sure, so long as he doesn't raise my ire any further.” Rugan's voice was low and closer to a growl than he would like to admit.

Bellar gave a short dry laugh. “Somehow that seems like a foregone conclusion.”

“Aye, doesn't it just?” A wry smile curled the corners of Rugan's mouth.

+++++

There were no more surprises when setting up camp that night. Sal and Olly dutifully planted their shared tent beside Izzy's and Rugan made a mental note to buy them plenty of drinks at the next opportunity. Grim also seemed to take note of the current arrangement, and while his sour expression gave away his feelings on the matter he was wise enough to not make a complaint. At least not yet.

Watches were organised, and Rugan volunteered himself and Olly to take the last one. Late enough that most of the camp would be deep asleep.

When he felt confident the previous shift wouldn't rouse he turned to Olly for a debriefing of his ride with Iz. He tried to use the coded dialect as he had with Sal.

“What was her read on the group?” Rugan asked, absently poking at the fire.

“She said Grim’s a—umm brag-bragga—? A trumpet?” Olly’s tongue twisting over the words before switching back to common with a frustrated sigh.

“Rugan, can we just do this in common?”

Rugan sighed and rolled his shoulders. The boy was still new to the tongue, and while he understood others well enough his own responses were often stilted and abrupt in this way. They weren't going to get far if Olly stumbled every third word.

“Fine, but keep your voice down, lad. Don't need anyone catching wind of this.”

“Right, so Grim’s a swank.”

“Gathered that much from his tales, go on.”

Olly went on to describe the other crew members. The big meaty bastard with rust coloured hair was Friss. He rarely spoke but was constantly surveilling the others. The scrawny lad was Soren, the youngest of three. Smaller than the others and habitually bullied by them. 

Most importantly, there had been no evidence of them being part of a larger guild or network. Rugan considered this a bit of good luck. Less complications if things played out the way he thought they might.

“This group doesn't exactly seem well read, did she know how they found this place?”

“Apparently robbed some noble on the road, and that's how they found out about the ruins. The rich fellow, he'd done some family research and thought his ancestors used to tend a temple here.”

“What happened to the fellow?”

Olly shrugged. Likely dead and Rugan didn't wanna be in the vicinity in case any fancy relatives came looking.

“Right then, I want you to see what inroads you can make with Soren.”

“Me? I'm no spy.”

“You're close in age, he'll want to talk to you. Don't think of it as some daring thing, just tell him some stories so he opens up a touch. Complain about us a bit.”

“Complain about you?”

“Puts folks at ease if you open up first. If he's got issues with his crew he'll be champing at the bit to say so.”

Olly nodded in understanding. “Alright, I'll try.” Then after a beat. “Suppose there is lots to complain about.”

Rugan huffed. “I'll pretend I didn't hear that last bit.”

+++++

It was a small group as caravans went, only the two wagons, eight people and seven horses. Two horses were hitched to each wagon.

Still, the way was slower going now that their numbers had doubled, especially with the wagons heavily weighted down by vases and small bits of statuary.

To make matters worse, Grim had taken a shine to Rugan. The Zhent’s days were frequently spent feigning interest in one of Grim's oft repeated adventures.

“You know I thought of becoming a Zhent,” Grim would say. “Yeah, seriously considered that, but I enjoy being my own boss too much.” Even Grim's own people looked like they had to bite their tongue when that one was repeated. It was true that the Zhentarim recruited all sorts, but Rugan doubted such a loud-mouth would go a month before finding a knife in his back.

“Used to run with the thieves out of Beregost,” Grim stated matter of factly one morning ‘round breakfast. “They were really small-time though. Yeah didn't wanna expand out of the ‘gost.” Rugan had to fight hard to choke down a laugh when he saw Bellar mouthing ‘the gost’ over Grim’s shoulder. Nobody fucking called Beregost that, and if they did Rugan would eat Olly's scarf.

That particular story seemed to set off Sal, who had over the winter become an expert on all things Amnian.

“Small time!” He had whisper-shouted at Rugan during their watch that night.

“They're a branch of the Shadow Thieves of Amn! The very same that Izzy warned us about in Crimmor. This isn't embellishment anymore, it's outright disinformation.”

Rugan thought enduring that particular story was worth it just to see how it frustrated Sal.

Grim's constant hovering also interfered with Rugan's other tasks. It was near impossible to go over a manifest with his constant nattering. His tinny voice followed Rugan as he inspected wheels and tarps. He couldn't even take a leak without Grim sidling up beside him at some random tree. 

Worst of all, it made it near impossible to sneak a glance at Iz. The most he got to see of her was when he was sitting in the driver seat of the wagon. She sat quietly beside him while they studiously ignored one another, though on more than one occasion she had rested her hand on his knee when Grim’s crew were preoccupied. He could almost pretend they were alone in those moments, sometimes he even dared to place his hand on top of hers.

It was usually at such times that Grim would come riding up to tell Rugan how the Flaming Fist had tried to recruit him, had begged him to join on bended knee. 

“Couldn’t meet my salary expectations though.” Grim would say as Rugan and Izzy surreptitiously disengaged.

At least Olly had made inroads with Soren—the pair often rode side by side at the head of the party, sometimes laughing over some shared joke.

+++++

Rugan was busy tacking up his horse one morning when Bellar spoke up.

“Don't look now, but your best mate is coming round.” He chuckled before wandering off.

Rugan sighed as he finished inspecting his saddle. It seemed Grim was intent on talking his ear off the whole journey back to the Gate.

“Good day to be on the road,” greeted Grim.

Every day on the road with Grim felt like the worst day of his life. “That it is indeed.”

“Now, Zhent, I can see that you're a professional.”

“Aye, that if nothing else.” Rugan agreed with a smile that did not touch his eyes. 

“Can't say the same for your lads.” Grim turned and Rugan followed the man's gaze to where Izzy and Sal were brushing the latter's horse. Rugan chose not to comment.

“Now see, I've a little business proposition for you,” Grim continued.

“Go on then.” He said, knowing full well Grim was about to say something he wouldn't like.

“Well…” Turning back to Rugan, Grim lowered his voice and leaned in close. The man was so obvious about what he was doing it almost seemed like a parody of secrecy. “Seems a waste of supplies to have an extra body around when her part’s already done.”

“You wanna dump the girl in Goulcrest?” Rugan hoped that was all, but he knew better.

“Why part with the coin? Overpriced as she was, even at half the contract. Better to just dump the body in a ditch.” He swiped a dark strand of hair behind his ear with a lopsided grin. Rugan imagined himself dashing Grim’s face against a stone wall, till that grin was broken and jagged.

“That would be outside the terms of our established contract.” His voice was silken, even as he felt himself gritting his teeth. “You've paid us to protect the merchandise, no more, no less.”

“You drive a hard bargain. Half her coin is yours when the job is done.”

“Respectfully—” Respect was in fact the last thing he felt for Grim. “No.”

And even if it hadn't been Iz, if it had been some passerby he had no compunctions over killing, even then he would've expected to keep the full purse plus fee. 

“Just think it over, it's a good chunk of coin.” Grim clapped him on the shoulder before wandering back to his own horse.

“Still want to be professional?” Bellar, who had of course been eavesdropping, appeared at Rugan’s side. “Not particularly, but we’ll see if he drops the issue.” Rugan tried to shake out the tension in his shoulders as he said it. “Doubt it.” Bellar chuckled before mounting his own horse. Rugan had a feeling Bellar was right and a vengeful part of him looked forward to it.

[neptuniadoesstuff]

Isma Concept Art/Ref

Mmmmmmmm B U F F S N A K E L A D Y .

So remember Isma right? Well this is (gonna be) her now. Yeh, buff Snek lady WHO FRIKIN WORKS FOR A FRIKIN DANGER FEMBOI WHO MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE JUANDICE!

Btw... This WONT be the official ref of her as some changes may or may not be added later on. Idk.. Depends if I am truly motivated enough (since I have frikin been working on this for a while now & honestly I wanna have a break from art atm-)

& also.. PLZ PLZ PLZ DONT SAY ANYTHING WEIRD ABOUT HER! YEH SHES BUFF BUT I KNOW SOMEONE ON HERE OR OUT THERE IS PROB GONNA MAKE WEIRD ART/A WEIRD COMMENT ABOUT HER & I DONT WANT THAT TO HAPPEN I AM A MINOR! (& I get frikin uncomfortable with weird comments about me or my OCs)

Oh & this- (Iz a link to her Full body Ref/Concept... Plz don't murk me guys)

So uh.... Let me have yur thoughts, do you like this (gonna be) updated design of her or do u want me to change some bits of it? Bcs I will change what is needed when I do make h3r official ref sheet.

Anyways, Crembits

Character is mine.

Art is mine.

Program: IbisPaint

Bubs' TOS: Plz don't repost/steal, trace, or recolor my art WITHOUT MY PERMISSION! If you do, I'll take yur femur and pelvis.. SO, DON'T THINK ABOUT IT! (The PNS on my blog's pinned post clearly means "Please No Steal" plz follow that rule.) If you do post my art on anything like yur blog or somewhere else (With my permission) PLEASE CREDIT ME!

[regretevator-confessions]

Wowie i kinda waznt expecting people to be interezted in the oc I waz talking about,,, zo herez a zmall little zummary of them gigglez

Lisieux iz a Cangelis, an alien zpeciez that often resemble dogz, from the planet Cabanel!! However, they don't actually live on xyr home planet anymore due to religiouz trauma from the theocracy government zet there and not wanting to be azzociated with it. Oh and they alzo killed the people running it whoopz

Quick and very bazic TL;DR for their ztory: Lisieux, at this time going by Cecilia bc tranz (f -> agender), was born, immediately deemed a zinner due to being neurodivergent and queer and didn't really care about the church bc theze people zuck, experienced horrid abuze for minor thingz, acted out in rezponze, got a halo around their neck that would kill xem if they committed too many zinz az punizhment for doing literally nothing, and didn't give a zhit!!

Then, the Gnarpianz invaded one day, they zaw Gnarpy and that xey were cornered, literally zacrified themzelf for xem bc of how mentally unwell xey were and alzo wanted Gnarpy, went to hell az you do, found it lame and boring, found a white door and just left hell, woke up in their grave, broke inzide xyr own houze and took their truzty box cutter, killed the higher upz aka xyr abuzerz bc idk i think going to hell and becoming a reanimated corpze like ten minutez ago mezzez you up, and then just left the planet and rode the Intergalactic Train Station zorry i couldnt come up wirh a better name!!! They alzo live on the train lmao

They're better now tho :3 xey aren't killing people which iz good. Ztill a bitchy teenager (Lisieux is 16 1/2, Gnarpy is 17 in their canon) and lovez tempting gods but hey xey're better

[translation!!]

[Wowie i kinda wasnt expecting people to be interested in the oc I was talking about,,, so heres a small little summary of them giggles

Lisieux is a Cangelis, an alien species that often resemble dogs, from the planet Cabanel!! However, they don't actually live on xyr home planet anymore due to religious trauma from the theocracy government set there and not wanting to be associated with it. Oh and they also killed the people running it whoops

Quick and very bazic TL;DR for their story: Lisieux, at this time going by Cecilia bc trans (f -> agender), was born, immediately deemed a sinner due to being neurodivergent and queer and didn't really care about the church bc these people suck, experienced horrid abuse for minor things, acted out in response, got a halo around their neck that would kill xem if they committed too many sins as punishment for doing literally nothing, and didn't give a shit!!

Then, the Gnarpians invaded one day, they saw Gnarpy and that xey were cornered, literally sacrificed themself for xem bc of how mentally unwell xey were and also wanted Gnarpy, went to hell as you do, found it lame and boring, found a white door and just left hell, woke up in their grave, broke inside xyr own house and took their trusty box cutter, killed the higher ups aka xyr abusers bc idk i think going to hell and becoming a reanimated corpse like ten minutes ago messes you up, and then just left the planet and rode the Intergalactic Train Station sorry i couldnt come up wirh a better name!!! They also live on the train lmao

They're better now tho :3 xey aren't killing people which is good. Still a bitchy teenager (Lisieux is 16 1/2, Gnarpy is 17 in their canon) and loves tempting gods but hey xey're better]

(referring to this)