#the other staff are great no complaints there but

[marmett]

my current temp part time job has been fine, second best job ive ever had. but i am so glad to be putting in my notice today. esp after yesterday ;_;

[woso-dreamzzz]

Youth Team IV

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first youth game

The Denmark youth team calls you up on a random day.

Or, rather, they call your mothers who are more than happy to accept.

It's your first youth team call up and you can't help the nerves that settle in your stomach.

At first, everything goes smoothly. You meet the coach and the staff and you get settled in your room.

That's when training starts.

There's two other keepers to play with. They're both on the upper ends of the age range of the team. You're on the lower side.

They're worldly and smart and seem leaps and bounds ahead of you. They catch shots you could only dream of and seem like good friends, already having a solid relationship to pick up every time the international break comes around.

You're the outsider here, the girl that has to fly over from Sweden every time just to play in an international team. The girl that no one else here knows because she plays her football in Sweden. The girl that's so much younger than everyone else and took the spot of one of their friends.

The coaching staff have seen something in you that no one else can see, even you. You're young and untried and everyone keeps looking at you like they expect you to be some great talent.

As of yet, you haven't proven it which is why it's a surprise that you're the starting keeper for the match against France.

It's a surprise for everyone else too, if the way the other two keepers complain is anything to go by.

France is a tough opponent, even at the youth level and while this isn't a tournament, it still sets the bar for the future.

Your coach is trying out new positions and new rotations and new team chemistry. He takes no complaints.

You stay in the starting line-up no matter how many people complain.

You stay in the starting line-up no matter how many of the older girls give you a dirty look during training.

You understand why. You're the outsider here. You're the one taking the spot from their friends. You're the one that's appeared randomly and is taking away chances from others.

The match, as predicted, is incredibly difficult.

France have a good front line.

(One day, all of these girls will be in the senior team against you).

They press high. They press hard. They press fast.

Your defence falls apart before your very eyes.

One time, after a rough training session, Magda told you something in the car.

The goalkeeper is meant to be the very last option to stop a goal. If a defence is good then they should be able to stop a strike before it happens, before it manages to trouble the keeper. The sign of a good defence is when the goalkeeper doesn't need to save a single shot.

But the keeper is also in charge of the defence on the pitch.

The coach can tell the players anything before they're on the pitch but, in the heat of the moment, the keeper needs to remind the defence of their jobs.

Your first half is difficult with your defence making silly mistakes and playing like they've never been in the back line in their life.

France dominated possession and the amount of shots on target with the amount of space your defence has gifted them.

You come off the pitch pissed, unwilling to make eye contact with your mothers as you pass them in the stands.

You don't even want to look in Pernille's direction.

You're playing for her country right now. You don't want to disappoint her. You don't want her to look at you when you inevitably concede to France and lose Denmark the match.

"Hey," One of the older keepers says to you, standing in front of your cubby with her arms crossed over your chest.

You're sat down, leaning back against the wall as you stare at the gloves in your hand. Your energy drink sits next to you, half empty with the small chocolate bar Pernille always tells you to eat to give you a boost of energy in the second half.

Your throat bobs as you look up at this girl.

"Hey," You say back, completely defeated.

She looks at you, eyes roving over your body before she lets out a long suffering sigh.

"If the defenders are playing shit," She says," Then you need to tell them. I suggest yelling, get it through their thick heads that if they can't stop the ball from getting to you then the goal conceded is their fault."

"You want me to yell?"

"Look," She says," I get you're all quiet and stuff but out on the pitch you're in charge of them. If they're not up to your standards then you better fucking tell them."

"I-"

"Plus it helps get some of your frustration out."

Her words circle in your head even as you walk out for the second half.

France dominates again and it's not long before they're bearing down on goal.

You defence is wide open, allowing way too much space and you have to go to ground to save the shot.

Rage boils under your skin as you stand up, marching over to your defence as they mill around waiting for you to release the ball.

"Tighten up!" You snap," You're giving them too much space!"

"Whoa, wait a minute-"

"No! Just close ranks when they come near! Cut them off then and there and I won't have to make the save because if you keep playing like that sooner or later, they're going to sneak one past me!"

You don't give them time to argue back, rolling the ball out to your midfield.

The game ends nil-nil but you don't have to make any more saves and you don't bother sparing your defence a look as you walk off the pitch, making your way right over to the stands, hoisting yourself up and over.

"I'm sorry," You say, head bowed as you stand in front of your mothers," We didn't score."

"I don't think scoring is exactly up to you," Pernille says, reaching out to cup your cheek and pull your head up," You're responsible for not conceding and you did that. A clean sheet on debut. That's a win in my book."

"But not a proper win," You say.

"Let's focus on what you can control," Magda says," You control the goal and the defence. You didn't let a ball past you. You told your defence they needed to tighten up. You did well."

"Really?"

Pernille laughs. "You're too hard on yourself. Now, go down, get showered, get changed. We're going out with your grandparents tonight and we need to tell them about your amazing debut."

[jamiefartt]

richmond's receptionist

part 2.

pairings: jamie tartt x reader, basically all of richmond is mentioned tho

summary: where you're the receptionist at richmond fc and you slowly but surely form a close bond with star striker jamie tartt

words: 6864

warnings: none just swearing and a little bit of rude jamie

—

day in and day out you watch the people of richmond fc enter and exit the home of their beloved football team. you spend your days behind the blue reception desk doing admin; sending emails, taking calls, and making sure everything is running smoothly. you've been the receptionist at Richmond for a little over three months, and you had no complaints so far. your favourite part of the day was watching Rebecca arrive to work. you always hear her heels before you see her, then she struts past your desk with a swift 'good morning' every day. not one day has gone by where she hasn't greeted you that way, and the acknowledgment lightens your mood each time.

as you're checking the company emails one morning, you hear Rebecca's footsteps approaching. you look up to smile at her, expecting the usual greeting, but instead she goes off-script.

"ah, good morning y/n. i'm not sure if you've seen the email but we are implementing a new daily register system. every morning, when our staff and players arrive, they must tick the box next to their name and note what time they arrive at. for visitors, they will have to sign their name on the bottom." you nod along attentively to her new instructions.

"okay, great! so, in the evenings, should everyone just do the same thing; tick the box, add the time?"

"you catch on fast. see, this is why I knew we needed a better receptionist," she smiles at you genuinely, adjusting her handbag on her arm before turning to walk to her office. "oh, and everyone should have received the email so I hope that saves you wasting time to explain this to everybody."

thanking her with a kind smile, you bid your goodbyes. you open your personal staff email, only to find an email from Higgins including a pdf of the sign in sheet. you take it upon yourself to print a week's worth, attaching them to a clipboard and placing it on top of the tall desk. you smile to yourself, looking forward to getting to know everyone's names and have more opportunities for small talk in the mornings.

the clock is nearing 8:30am, and you're already deep in your inbox forwarding and responding to emails. you've only had to explain the new system to a handful of staff, including Laughing Liam who, naturally, laughed at it. the players should be arriving soon, so you take the time to straighten your blouse and sit up straight in your chair. presumably, these men don't check their emails first thing in the morning, so you're expecting to have to repeat yourself a lot this morning.

"good morning y/n!" Colin chirps. he's the first of the team to arrive, as per usual.

"hey Colin! I thought I heard tires screech outside." you joke. "I'm not sure if you saw the email-"

"stop right there. i saw the email this morning." cutting you off, he picks up a Richmond pen before sliding the clipboard towards him and signing in. you chuckle to yourself and wave him goodbye.

soon after, the rest of the Richmond players flood into the building. some are in pairs, others in groups, and they even form a small queue as they wait their turn to sign in. Dani's excited by the new organisation plan, Roy grunts but still cracks a small smile, and Ted holds up the line talking to you whilst Beard signs both of them in. the only person to arrive alone, and last, is Jamie Tartt. he rolls right past you, not once looking up from his phone. you quickly call after him: "Uhm, Jamie!" you've never spoken to him, nevertheless called him by his first name.

his head lifts at the unexpected sound of your voice, and he looks around trying to find the source.

"sorry, Mr. Tartt. I didn't mean to shout... or call you Jamie," your voice goes quiet as he turns around to look at you, eyebrows raised in confusion. "what?" he replies, slowly walking towards the desk.

"basically, there's a bit of a new system here now. every morning and every evening you'll have to check in and out on this sheet. just tick the box next to your name and then add the time you arrive and leave." you explain with a smile, holding his questioning gaze the entire time.

"right, right, okay... what if, instead of me wasting me time clocking in and out, you just do it for me. you see me arrive, you sign me in. you see me leave, you sign me out. simple as." he states, and he sends you a quick wink before spinning around and heading straight for the locker room.

your mouth snaps open and shut a few times, surprised at his refusal to cooperate. you knew he had been a pain, despite his talent, but ever since he returned from manchester city he'd dropped his act a little. still, all you could do was watch his back, his bright orange jacket disappearing around the corner.

—

the sign-in system is easily integrated into richmond fc's daily routine, everyone dedicating those few minutes every day to tick the box and smile at you. some even taking the time to have a chat with you and soon enough, you know everyone's names.

while your typing up an email to Keeley about a new sponsor, someone walks up to your desk and drums his hands atop it. your eyes snap up and a smile takes over your face at the sight of Ted.

"hi Coach, how are you doing?"

"I'm doing great, y/n, thanks for asking! I would ask how you're doing but I'm here about someone else..." Ted's gaze narrows and your smile shrinks slightly.

"what's up?" you turn your chair to face him to show your full attention is on him.

"my pal Higgins has informed me that one of my players hasn't been signing in with you every day."

"yeah..." you trail off, "Jamie hasn't really been making the effort. I'm sorry if I should have been doing it for him I just wasn't sure if that would be... against safety regulations... or something?"

Ted raises his eyebrows at you, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "did he ask you to sign him in and out every day?"

"yes, he did. he said I should just watch out for him coming and going then write down the time."

"oh okay, I see. I will talk to him at lunch. Don't you worry, y/n."

as he walks away, you sigh in relief, worried you were getting in trouble for Jamie's slacking. you turn back to your computer, cracking your knuckles before getting back to your work.

later that day, as you log out of your computer and start packing up your stuff, the team pours out of the locker room. some sign themselves out, some sign themselves and their mates out. you make sure to keep your eyes peeled for anyone trying to avoid the responsibility, but the only person who strides past the group with no remorse is, once again, Jamie Tartt. your eyes meet Ted's who is looking at you with an apologetic look. you shrug in response, brushing it off. Jamie is his own person, you're not in charge of him.

the next morning, the day starts as usual; Rebecca is the first to arrive, followed by some members of staff, before the coaching team and players pour in from the car park. despite people greeting you and talking, you only half-respond. you're too busy looking over everyone's heads trying to spot the stubborn player you just haven't been able to crack.

"I've spoken to that prick. he can't keep fucking you over. let me know if he causes any problems." Roy grumbles, interrupting your focus.

"cheers, Roy," you smile at him warmly, wondering if his words will have had any effect on Jamie.

when the clock strikes 9, you sink back into your chair. the last of the staff have arrived for their day, and training is about to start – but still, no Jamie Tartt.

you grab the clip board and flick through the pages, making sure you didn't miss him signing in. still, on every page, the boxes next to his name are left blank. you sigh, shaking your head, unsure of how to tell Rebecca you got through to everyone expect for one measly player.

"y/n?"

"that's me," you say, before looking up from the list of names.

there's two coffee cups in front of you, both with the name Jamie scribbled on the sides in black marker. you lift your gaze, and funnily enough, Jamie is stood in front of you.

"listen yeah, I jus' wanted to say sorry for not doin' the whole... sign-in sheet shit. Roy had a proper go at me yesterday, so... I brought you coffee. hope this makes up for it." he can barely meet your eyes as he speaks, but ends his apology with a small smile.

"oh, wow, thank you. that's very kind, Jamie." you genuinely smile at him, hoping his might lift even a little bit more. instead, his eyes soften.

"I just got you a latte. I hope that's okay, I weren't sure what you liked and didn't have time to ask Keeley so,"

"that's perfect, Jamie, thank you so much. you really didn't have to do this."

"yes, I did, I think. it's not fair for you to be worrying about your job because of me."

thanking him again, you take one of the takeaway cups, taking a small sip of the warm coffee. Jamie nods at you as if to say goodbye, and you return the nod with a cheeky wink. you can't be sure, but you think you see Jamie's smile finally reach his eyes as he turns around.

the following morning, as you're talking to Isaac about becoming the new team captain, you're interrupted by none other than Jamie. your face lightens up at the sight of him, and you laugh as he pushes Isaac with his shoulder, making him leave the front desk.

"what's this for?" you ask as he sets another coffee cup down in front of you.

"I dunno... I was already getting meself coffee, so I thought I might as well get you another latte."

"you don't have to do that, Jamie. but if it means you come to the desk to sign in then I won't complain."

you can't seem to take your eyes off his hands as he picks up the pen Isaac had just used. his fingers seem to move slowly over the page, smoothing over everyone's names until he reached his. you admire the rings on his fingers, taking a special interest in the gold signet on his pinky as it supports the pen gliding along the form.

"do you like it?"

you blink a few times before snapping out of your daydream, looking up to see Jamie smirking down at you.

"hm?" you ask, gulping down the embarrassment of being caught in your daze.

"do you like my ring?"

"what? your pinky ring? uhm, sure, yeah. it's nice..."

"good save, love. it's me granddad's. he gave it me when I first went to play for Man City."

"it's beautiful..." you say, smiling before looking down at the ring again. you notice how delicately his hands move as he puts the pen down. you didn't expect such a machismo to have such nice hands but you can tell Jamie takes good care of himself.

he smiles, huffing out a small chuckle at your admiration. "see ya later, y/n." "

"bye, Jamie." you smile, taking the clipboard from him. you glance down at his name, spotting a small heart drawn beside it. it's uneven and a bit jagged, but the doodle still tugs at your heart strings.

from then on, every single morning, you are greeted by a latte and a chat from Jamie. every day, he lingers more and more as you talk to each other, and you always end up drinking half of your coffees before he pulls himself away from your desk. in the evenings, he's always one of the first to sign out. instead of saying goodbye, he simply winks at you. you hate to admit it but you start memorising what times Jamie arrives and leaves. as much as you love talking to him, and especially him winking at you every time he leaves, you love waiting for him. you love the nerves that build in your stomach as you watch the clock, and by the time he finally reaches you, you're already slightly blushing. when he turns to leave your desk, your eyes follow his figure and you let the blush take over your cheeks completely.

—

"hey, y/n, have you got a minute?" Isaac walks up to your desk.

"Isaac! of course!" you chirp, taking the last sip of your latte. Isaac reads the name written across the cup and raises his eyebrows knowingly.

"ah, speak of the devil,"

"what?" you turn the cup around, running your thumb across Jamie's name, "oh, yeah,"

"about Jamie... I really hate to involve you in actual football shit but he's been slacking a bit in training."

"oh, okay, would you like me to pass on the message to Rebecca?"

"no, no, it's just... he's been showing up late to training and then leaves early. during trainings, he's always... agreeing?" you raise your eyebrows at Isaac's words, "he never puts up a fight anymore, and we kind of need that Jamie Tartt for our big game this Saturday."

"I'm sorry, Isaac, but I'm not really sure what I can do about this. I really would love to help but there's not much I can do."

"I really hate to ask this from you, but," he takes a deep breath, a small smile appearing on his face, "I need you to piss him off a bit this week."

you laugh out loud, attempting to brush off his obvious joke by turning back to your computer.

"I'm not joking." his smile drops instantly, and your laugh falters before your face goes serious. "he likes you, so if you start acting cold towards him, it would really throw him off." Isaac's smile returns, and you giggle at his idea. trying not to read into his phrasing too much, you take a deep breath and nod.

"got it, Captain." you salute towards him. his eyebrows furrow as he curtly nods at you before turning around and jogging away.

what does he mean with Jamie liking you? a blush creeps up your face at the thought of him mentioning your name every time he's late, making up some excuse about the sign in taking too long. you start to brainstorm how you're going to turn the cold shoulder to Jamie this afternoon, feeling ever so slightly bad but trusting Isaac's judgement at the same time.

sure enough, Jamie is the first person out of training. you look up at him, and he smiles at you from the end of the hallway before jogging towards you.

"hi, y/n," his fingers drum on the desk, clearly excited to see you.

"if you'd just like to sign out for me there please, Jamie." you speak up, not looking up from your screen.

Jamie's immediately taken aback by your tone and from the corner of your eye you can see him pull his head back in confusion.

he chuckles awkwardly, attempting to diffuse the situation, "uhm, okay... what's the time, y/n?"

you don't respond, instead you point up at the clock on the wall behind you.

Jamie scoffs, quickly scribbling down the time and dropping the pen with a little bit of force. you don't react, as much as you wish you could just look up and meet his eyes.

"okay, bye then." he sighs deeply then heads towards the car park. as you see Isaac approach your desk, the rest of the team in tow, you hear an engine roar off into the distance.

"sounds like you've already pissed him off," Isaac says, "how did you manage that?"

"I just didn't look at him." you shrug nonchalantly.

"mhm, yeah he hates that. good job, bruv." he holds out his fist for you to bump. your knuckles meet his as you wink at him.

—

"hi, y/n, you alright, yeah?"

you hear Jamie place down a coffee cup. he whistles a little tune trying to get your attention, but when you still don't look up at him, he just picks up the pen and quickly signs in.

"listen, I'm not sure if you're just busy or what, but we play the Spurs tomorrow and I'd really like to see you there."

before you can even look up at him, Jamie turns around and leaves. you wait until he's a few feet away before looking up to take your coffee. you stare at his back, sighing to yourself. you understand the Captain's orders but it doesn't feel right ignoring Jamie. you would never tell him but your little routine has become your favourite part of your day at Richmond. you watch as his pinky signet ring catches the bright lights of the hallway and you take the opportunity to rake your eyes over Jamie's figure. his grey skinny jeans hug his legs perfectly, and his black jacket accentuates his broad shoulders. you lift your gaze to see his hair is gelled back neatly. you continue to stare at him, and as he's just about to turn the corner, he turns his head to take one last look at you. your eyes just about meet before you quickly snap your head down, pretending you weren't looking at him.

"y/n! I heard you fixed Jamie!" Keeley squeals as her and Roy walk up to the desk.

"I know, I hate it!" you reply, slumping your shoulders.

"don't worry, y/n. he'll be back to normal after tomorrow's game." Roy helps.

"sure but I don't want him to hate me."

"trust me; he doesn't fucking hate you." he adds, raising an eyebrow.

Keeley nods, "it's true. he's got a soft spot for you."

"he still invited me to the game." you shrug, hopeful that means he doesn't hate you.

"ah! brilliant! I'll talk to Rebecca, I'm gonna get you a seat with us. that way, you can watch the match without him even knowing you're there!" Keeley bounces excitedly on the balls of her feet.

"doesn't that defeat the point of me being there?"

"no babe, it's all about the teasing. he's gonna be fuming when he thinks you're not there, and then after the game you can surprise him! it'll work wonders, I swear."

you give her a questioning look, turning to Roy for a second opinion. he stays completely silent, simply giving you a single nod.

"if you think it'll work, let's do it." you hesitate slightly, but ultimately agree. you won't mind teasing Jamie a little bit. it's all he ever does.

your eyes drift to the picture of him plastered on the wall beside you. the cocky smirk on his face taunts you as you consider just texting him an apology.

"good morning! whatever you said to Jamie really worked, y/n. he never passes to me anymore!" a chipper Sam says to you as he signs himself in.

"is that a really a good thing?"

"it is for now. but please, after tomorrow, bring him back to normal. he's almost my friend and I want to keep it that way." he gives you a sad smile before bidding you goodbye.

throughout the day, you take calls and file more admin work. you talk to Higgins, Ted, and Keeley, filling them in on the plan for the Tottenham match tomorrow. it's a struggle to sit at your desk with Jamie constantly filling up his bottle from the water fountain in front of you. there's plenty of others for him to use, but he's clearly making the extra effort to see you in the hopes you'll talk to him. much to your dismay, you continue to ignore him. it's only been two days that you've been ignoring Jamie, but it's still hard avoiding the one thing that makes your day just that little bit better.

all packed up to go home, you wait for the last sign outs of the day. Rebecca's heels descend the stairs, and once again you hear her before you see her.

"y/n, I'm so sorry to keep you waiting."

"no worries. that's my job," you smile at her, moving to exit your desk. you step down from the raised platform, about to shrug your jacket on.

"ah- ah- ah, I'm afraid I'm not the last to go home." Rebecca interrupts your movement, pointing a finger down the hallway.

"oh, uh, who's left?" you ask her, already taking your jacket off again.

"I think there's someone in the gym. oh, and there's a package for you in the coach's office. don't forget to pick that up before you leave."

you shake your head, confused; "uhm, okay then. I'll see you tomorrow, Miss Welton." you smile at her politely, giving her a small nod.

"Rebecca." she assures you with a small which mirrors yours. as she turns to leave, you hold back a sigh and place your jacket and bag atop the desk. you iron down your shirt and fix the pleats on your trousers before venturing down the hallway.

you can hear small puffs and the whirring of a treadmill as you get closer to the coach's office. choosing to cut through the locker room, you look at the large empty space. you look over each name on the far side, reading them out loud quietly to yourself. moving towards Sam's locker, you smile at the photo of the Nigerian national team he keeps on his shelf. turning around, you read the names on the other side of the room. eyes landing on the locker at the end of the row, you finally let out the sigh you were holding in. "Tartt" you say out loud to yourself. butterflies fill your stomach before a nervous twist takes over. "he likes you" Isaac's words replay in your head. "he's got a soft spot for you" you remember what Keeley said. you ponder on their words, wondering why you of all people were Isaac's choice. Surely Roy could've talked some sense into him, or Ted if he got angry?

you shake the thoughts from your head, quickly looking away from Jamie's locker just in case your clouded mind takes charge again. looking through the window into the office, you see a white parcel on Beard's desk. there's a bright yellow sticky note on top of it:

'For y/n. You'll need this tomorrow! - Coaches'

you smile softly before pulling off the sticky note and picking up the package. the sound of the treadmill is louder now that you're right next to the gym, and the huffing and puffing increases too. loud beeps sound out and suddenly the footsteps on the treadmill seem to be going impossibly fast. pushing your curiosity aside, you cut the corner of the white bag, ripping it open. inside it is a neatly folded jersey – a Richmond jersey. you pick it up by the shoulders, holding it up in front of you. when you turn it around, you let a laugh escape your lips, hoping the treadmill covers the sound. it reads the same as Jamie's locker: Tartt 9.

shaking your head in disbelief, you fold it up neatly and place it back in its package. you hug it tight to your chest as you move quietly towards the window into the gym. you peer in, and to your surprise, you see Jamie almost destroying the treadmill with how fast he's going. his feet barely seem to hit the rubber, running like he is being chased by something twice his size. your smile falls and your brows crease together. he seems pissed, even though you can't see his face, his ferocious speed tells you enough. you turn back around, grabbing the post-it notes from Ted's desk and writing something down. you end your note with a small heart, hoping the coach sees it before the match.

—

"come on Richmond!"

the ear deafening crowds cheer and chant for Richmond FC as they file into the stadium. you're sitting in the owner's suite behind Rebecca and Keeley, with Higgins next to you.

"did you get my package?" Keeley asks, teethy smile across her face.

"I knew it was you! you cheeky little shit!" you laughed loudly, clapping her hands into yours. you take your jacket off, turn around and bring your arms up, pointing two thumbs at the back of your shirt.

"ah, young love..." Higgins sighs.

immediately turning back around, you scoff at him; "pfft, we're not in love! in fact, I'm not even sure we're friends right now."

"don't worry about it, y/n. I promise." Rebecca assuredly says to you, before turning to watch the match begin.

the whistle is about to blow, so you quickly try to find Jamie on the pitch. your eyes scan over the group, and you soon spot him in the middle of the pitch jumping up and down. he spits on the ground and claps his hands together, clearly riled up and ready to lead Richmond to a win.

the crowd roars as the whistle blows, and Jamie initiates kick off. you didn't think you would ever see him run as fast as he was on the treadmill yesterday, but somehow he is beating his own personal record. in the blink of an eye, he runs from one end of the pitch to the other. by some miracle, he seems to always have the ball in possession. after passing it back and forth, any time he's anywhere near the goal, the ball is at his feet.

in the 40th minute of the game, Jamie is crashing through Tottenham players, bumping shoulders with every single one as he makes his way towards their goal. you can see his cheeks puffing air in and out of his lungs rapidly, and after finding himself completely unobstructed, he kicks the ball with so much force that his mouth opens and you can almost hear his shout.

everything seems to go in slow motion. you hold your breath and raise your hands to cover your mouth. the ball flies through the air, magically curving towards the goal. the keeper jumps, hands in the air, and his finger tips merely brush the ball. but he's unable to push it hard enough, the ball crashing straight into the middle of the net.

the stadium erupts in cheers and roars, and you jump into the air with a loud scream. you hug Higgins in excitement and shake Keeley's shoulders before high-fiving Rebecca. you watch the team celebrate by running up to Jamie, who is stood completely still in the spot from where he scored. you can see his chest heaving, catching his breath as his teammates hug him and clap his back. but he doesn't seem to celebrate with them, instead you watch as he looks up and into the crowd without even a smile on his face. your expression falls, feeling your colleagues' eyes on you. Keeley grabs your hand, snapping your attention from the pitch to her; "go." she says, squeezing your hand. you purse your lips and nod at her, squeezing back, before pushing past Higgins and running inside.

as you rush through the VIP bar, you hear the half-time whistle. you head down the stairs and out the back of the stadium. you curse yourself for wearing your boots as you try to run to the main building. running doesn't seem to be your best bet, so you settle on a speed walk as you get closer and closer to the door. finally, you push open the door, passing by the reception desk you would normally sit at.

you continue your journey down the hallway and then turn right, heading straight for the locker room. you can hear the team from far away, cheering in celebration. as you turn the corner, you see all of them fall into the locker room in a line. they're so excited they don't notice you leaning against the wall watching them. the only person who isn't too busy celebrating, though, is Jamie Tartt, who is trailing behind the team like a sad puppy. his hands are wrapped in his shirt, and he's looking at his feet which he's scoffing across the floor. clearing your throat, you hope it catches his attention, his mind clearly elsewhere.

his head snaps up and looks in your direction. stopping dead in his tracks, he drops his hands from his shirt and fixes his headband. quickly glancing into the changing room, he goes unnoticed by the team as he dips his head and does a few long strides towards you.

"Jamie, I-"

"are you alright? like really alright? did I do somethin'?

"Jamie," you sigh deeply, not knowing how to explain Isaac's orders. "I'm sorry for ignoring you the past few days. it wasn't my idea, I promise."

"your idea? what're you talkin' about?" Jamie crosses his arms and shakes his head, a lock of hair moving forward into his eye.

you reach a hand up, gently moving the strand out of his vision. you watch as his eyes soften, dropping to the floor before they meet your gaze again. a sad crease appears between his eyebrows when you bring your hand down to your side again.

after taking a deep breath, you begin to explain; "Isaac said you were playing too friendly during training, slacking a little bit – and yeah, turning up late and then leaving early. he wanted you to be ready for today's match, y'know. so he asked me to rile you up a little bit, just so they could have the old Jamie Tartt back."

Jamie pouts, brows furrowed in confusion, as he blinks at you a few times. avoiding your eyes, he starts slowly nodding, tongue poking his cheek as he thinks to himself. after a few long seconds, the corner of his mouth lifts as he huffs a sarcastic laugh. you look up at him with wide eyes, hoping you haven't upset him. licking his lips, Jamie's smile widens as his laugh grows. you crack a small smile at him and try to find his gaze again, moving a step closer to him. placing a hand on his strong bicep, you try to get him to look at you. instead, he shrugs you off, leaning down and digging a finger into his sock. you stare, confused, waiting for his next move.

"so- if Isaac told you to ignore me a bit... what the fuck is this?" he unfolds a pink post-it note holding it up to you before reading it out loud; "dear Tartt, I don't even like lattes". Jamie raises his eyebrows at you while you stifle a laugh. "what makes this worse is the stupid fucking heart at the bottom of the page!"

"I was just trying to piss you off! Isaac told me!"

Jamie finally lets out a loud laugh, and you do the same, dropping your head into your hands in embarrassment. you don't have the gall to look up at him, suddenly so ashamed of the stupid gag you pulled. you feel warm hands wrap around your wrists, and you lift your head to look at Jamie as he pulls your hands away from your face.

"darlin' I hope you know the only reason I've been late to training is because I can't stop talking to you. and I leave early just so I can see you before the rest of the lads hound ya..."

you blush – hard – and you stare into Jamie's dark blue eyes. his hands slide from your wrists to your hands, softly holding your fingers in his. you sneak a glance at your touch, and when you look back up Jamie's even closer to you. as he towers over you, you can't help but look down at his lips before meeting his eyes again.

"now, don't lie to me... do you really not like lattes?"

"I love lattes." you whisper, smiling sweetly up at him as he shakes his head with a chuckle.

"can I take you out tonight? I wanna celebrate our win since you're the reason for it."

you scoff and shake your head: "Jamie, it's half-time."

"I can give you a lift home after, yeah?" he ignores your obvious statement.

"what if you lose?" you tease.

now it's Jamie's turn to scoff at you, squeezing your hands slightly as he says: "as long as you're in the crowd I'm sure that's not gonna happen."

"Jamie! we need you, buddy!" Ted interrupts the moment, sticking his head out of the door of the locker room to beckon him in.

"see you later, Jamie." you pull your hands from his, although against your will, as if you had it your way you would kiss him right then and there. he doesn't move as you turn around, about to turn the corner into the hallway before you feel a hand grab yours again. Jamie pulls your hand, making you spin around to face him again. as he tugs your hand, he wraps his other arm around your shoulders in a hug. your face presses into his hard chest as he holds you close for a moment. you let out a deep breath as you enjoy the heat radiating off his body.

as he moves back to let go of you, he leans down so his lips brush your ear before whispering: "nice shirt, by the way. my name suits ya."

your breath hitches at his flirtatious tone and a blush already starts creeping up your neck. he pulls back and flicks his eyes up and down your body. as he turns around to join his team, he winks at you, and even though he winks at you every day, this one hits you a lot harder.

as you watch Jamie retreat to the locker room, you lock eyes with Ted at its door. you try to fight the shy smile growing on your face, but fail miserably as a blush takes over your face. Ted lifts his hand to his forehead and salutes at you. you mirror him, bringing two fingers up to your head and saluting him back.

you walk back to the stadium fanning your face with your hands, desperately trying to cool yourself down. after sighing in relief, you laugh to yourself thinking about how your time at Richmond has changed over the past few weeks – and it was all due to Jamie Tartt.

when you return to your seat, Keeley squeals at you, making Rebecca jump. you shuffle past Higgins and sit back in your seat, touching up your hair and taking a deep breath.

"he asked me on a date!" you finally exclaim to Keeley and Rebecca, and the two respond with even louder squeals, which you join in on. your celebration is interrupted by the ref blowing his whistle, and you all focus on the game again.

the guys walk onto the pitch in single file, Isaac leading them out. their faces are stone cold, clearly ready to destroy their opponents. you stand up from your seat, eager to see Jamie after your encounter in the hallway. you finally spot him, and you can see him bouncing on his feet as approaches the pitch. once he's at the halfway line, and all the other players are finding their spot, you see him turn towards your side of the stadium. he looks up at the suite you're sitting in, and you quickly put your hands in the air, hoping he'll spot you. you assume he sees you, as he brings both hands to his lips and blows you a smooth kiss, before patting the Richmond badge on his chest and sticking his tongue out. you cackle at his antics, loving his dramatic entree. you quickly blow a kiss back and wave, praying they win this match so messing him around wasn't just for nothing.

you've never been more nervous watching a Richmond game. you've gone to a number of them since beginning your job as receptionist, but you've never been so enthralled by the sport itself – well, the players... one of the players.

Jamie sprints across the pitch, back and forth and back and forth, the ball at his feet. you, Keeley, and Rebecca scream and shout as you watch Richmond score three more goals. Colin scores with an impressive header, Dani bicycle kicks the ball straight into the net, and of course Jamie punts the ball past half the other players and the keeper, securing the last point for Richmond.

after the match, you find your way back to Richmond's headquarters, pushing open the same door you entered through earlier. this time, Keeley and Rebecca are walking in tow. you all stop at the reception desk, chatting about the game and your weekend plans.

"so how did he ask you out?" Rebecca lowers her voice, just in case Jamie turns the corner. you laugh nervously, shaking your head and waving your hands dismissively.

"no, no, no, he didn't ask me out. he asked me on a date. there's a difference."

"but he's so obviously into you! what's stopping you from just grabbing him by the hair and shagging him!" Keeley exclaims, a lot less subtle than Rebecca's careful tone. you sputter and laugh, Rebecca doing the same, both of you shocked at how direct Keeley spoke about you and Jamie.

"shut up you two! I'll let you know how it goes tonight, you go celebrate!"

Rebecca and Keeley hug you goodbye before walking down the hall. you turn around and giggle to yourself, blushing from Keeley's comment. lifting your head, your eyes fall on Jamie's wall sticker again. just thinking about how close he was to you earlier makes your heart race, your head dizzying at the memory of lips brushing your ear. fixing your hair, you move around the desk and sit in your usual chair. you try to calm your breathing and bring your heart rate down, not wanting to look like a yearning, blushing mess.

after managing to pull yourself together, your heart beat pounds against your chest again when you see the Richmond team crowd into the hallway. Isaac cheers when he sees you at your desk, and Colin, who is on his back, joins in.

"well done, boys!" you call to them while you wave at everyone passing you by.

"bye, y/n! see you on Monday!" Sam says to you with a big smile. you wave him goodbye and sigh happily, genuinely excited for the team.

their cheering goes quiet the further away they get from the door, and you wonder where Jamie is. you check your phone for any text messages, but there's nothing from Jamie. there is one from Keeley, however; 'don't forget to use protection!'

you scoff at her suggestive words, texting back a thumbs up with a kissy face. placing your phone down on your desk you look up, only to see Jamie sauntering towards you.

"hi, y/n," he says as he gets closer to the desk.

"hi, Jamie,"

"how ya been?"

"just fine, what about you, Jamie?"

"yeah, good, yeah... happy about our win."

"I can imagine. you were a proper superstar on that pitch."

wide smiles grow on both of your faces as you continue the small talk; "thanks, love. what can I say? Roy says I've got a right foot kissed by God, so ya'know this is just a regular day for me."

you chuckle at his feigned cockiness, standing up from your chair and leaning over your desk. "don't you want to go celebrate that win with your teammates, Jamie Tartt?"

"nah, that's alright, thanks. I've got other plans."

"oh yeah?" you tease.

"yeah, I've got dinner plans with a really pretty girl,"

you nod along with your eyebrows raised, smiling playfully at Jamie. his hair is still damp from the shower, but he's kept his same hairband look from on the pitch. he's wearing a bright orange t-shirt under a dark green jacket, an unexpectedly nice look on him.

"who's this girl then?"

"ah you'd love her; she's friendly, funny, gorgeous. she doesn't like lattes, though. and she pretended to ignore me but is still wearin' my name on her back."

you laugh, breaking character. you smile at him, raking your eyes up and down his body shamelessly. his eyes widen as you do so, surprised by how forward you're being. you bite your lip at him before saying: "you gonna treat her right, Tartt?"

he teases you back, matching your flirtatious tone. licking his lips, he lets his eyes drop to your lips: "if she'll let me."

———

just something from my mind hope u like it !

[kiame-sama]

Lately I've been haunted by NRC employees.

Reader is dozing off somewhere

NRC Staff: *Wakes Reader*

Reader: *Not yet awake, said in a whining voice* Dad, let me sleep for 5 more minutes.

After regaining consciousness, Reader continuously bowed his head to apologize to the NRC staff.

Reader: I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude to you. 😳😰😰

He doesn't even look up from the form he is filling out, still somewhat smiling from being called 'Dad'. "I know you didn't, little one."

He knows you're stressed and you are upset with yourself for snapping at him, but he isn't even worried about being snapped at. Instead, he is filling out an official appeal to make himself your legal guardian. Of course, he has to tell his daughters that they have a new little sibling, but he is sure they will take it in stride.

Oh. OH. You think he's your... Well, it is unexpected, but he is certainly not angry about it. You calling him dad is all the permission he needs to start treating you like his child.

He will be buying you clothes much like his own and taking you to the tailors to get them fitted. He will NOT be accepting any complaints from you on the matter either. He is YOUR FATHER and he is taking it more than a little seriously. Your 'pet' Dire Cat is going to get a makeover too. By the time Divus is done with you no one will be able to question who your father is.

At first, Coach Vargas isn't sure he hears you properly. He wonders if you are just being sassy or if you are actually confusing him for your father figure. Either way, he takes it in stride and decides he is going to be the best parent you could ask for. After all, you are the only non-magic student and you have zero family outside of Grim.

Once Vargas decides he is your father, there is no going back. From orange slices for snacks to checking in on how your homework is coming along, he will be 100.10% your father.

Sam is shocked. He's only 25 and you think he is your father? Well... I mean, it isn't like he has any issues being your father. If anything, he sees himself as more of an older brother to his kind little Imp.

He's going to throw himself into any education he can find of being a good guardian/father even if he feels he is a little too young to take care of someone else like that. You'll find that he's too fond of you to take your money now and he will be inviting you to any holiday he has outside of campus. Perhaps you shouldn't have decided that he's your parent, but by golly he has to make sure you are safe in such a rowdy school.

I have the distinct feeling he is a Fae of some kind- likely a crow/raven- so he won't really understand that he shouldn't take a child of man to parent as many Fae have the desire to take humans as their own young. You don't really have anyone to take care of you other than Crowley and the other staff members, so why not take this baby bird with no wings and feathers as his own.

He is not a good father and it will show, but he will try to be a good father at least. He does forget that humans need more to survive than the occasional food and affection. He will encourage all of the staff to treat his little chick as his own and will be the father that cares when it is convenient for him, taking a kind of "takes a village" approach to taking care of his new ward. He is your official guardian, after all, so you may as well just call him father or something similar. Isn't he just the best father to ever exist? What a great guy, right?

[cecilysobsessions]

THIEF (m.) | zuko

↬ word count: 8k

↬ fem!reader, enemies to lovers except zuko is insanely attracted to reader (so lowkey its not enemies to lovers lol) from the start and makes it really fucking obvious, zuko writes reader letters, some parts are from zuko’s pov

↬ summary: born into poverty with practically nothing, you managed to get through most of your life as a petty thief. turns out, you were pretty good at stealing and getting away with it. one night, you decide to target the great fire lord zuko of the fire nation. and it turns out, he’s kind of into it, and kind of into you.

↬ genre: fluff / smut

↬ warnings: slight knife play (is that a thing???), violence, blood, zuko attempting to stab you, zuko actually has rizz (unfortunately no canon awk zuko here 😓 but my fic DESTINY has that), pussy eating, hair pulling, swearing probably, typos

↬ a/n: when he threatens you with a knife in order to get you to kiss him and throws you in jail then burns your house down 😍

m.list

•••

“It’s you again,” he began, his hands at his side as if there wasn’t a whole ass dagger against his throat. “I was beginning to wonder where you had been. I missed you breaking into my room.”

“You look like you enjoy being threatened with a knife.” you spat out with a sly smirk.

“I wouldn’t say I hate it.” he teases, making no effort to resist you.

•••

There was a thief. A thief who could only be described as some low-life peasant that was terrorizing the kitchens in the middle of the night, never to be seen. But of course, the palace staff were always exaggerating the smallest things. As far as Zuko knew, it was only food that the thief ever stole. He didn’t mind much, after all, he used to do the same. However, clearly the thief thought they could do more than just steal kitchen scraps because that’s exactly what started happening. 

First, it was food scraps. Leftover lunch Zuko would throw away. 

Then it was the fruits and bread laying out on the counters in the kitchen.

The thief felt a little bold, so they began stealing trinkets here and there in the palace, some worth merely a meal, others worth the monthly salaries of the palace staff. 

Finally, the thief had found Zuko’s room.

Zuko was fed up. First, it was his food, but now it was his personal items? The newly crowned Fire Lord was sitting in his closet, golden eyes peeking through the cracks of the closet door. He was waiting—he had been for the past two hours—for the thief to enter his room. Perhaps there was a better way to catch the thug, but Zuko wanted to see them for himself, and capture the criminal with his own hands. He had been waiting and watching and he was growing more exhausted as it was later in the night, when he saw you.

Covered in head to toe black, he watched you silently climb to pick the lock on his window, and enter. Your face was covered in black, too, and all he could make out was the stunning gaze from your eyes. He watches you silently roam around his bedroom familiarly. You had clearly been here before. It was as if you were looking for something specific. Maybe something you had your eye on already. Zuko watched your figure search the room, and it was dead silent in the room except for the sound of his heartbeat. He watched—no, observed your movements. You had moved around stealthily and expertly; you were experienced. You knew what you were doing.

•••

You noticed the Fire Lord the moment you stepped into his room. How could you not? He wasn’t in his bed when you entered and judging by the way it was still made, you knew he had probably been planning something. You didn’t even try to make an effort to hide your presence; you knew there weren’t going to be consequences. For months you had been overhearing Zuko brush off the palace staff when they brought their complaints about you to him, so of course he wasn’t going to do anything. 

Tonight, you were going to look for some sort of jewelry his mother owned. When spying on the servants, you heard he kept her most precious necklace somewhere in his room. It was made of some rare stone that was only found on the palace grounds and nowhere else. Luckily for you, you were a good thief and just so happened to be short on money. That necklace was going to be yours, and all you had to do was figure out where it was. 

When you’re searching through his nightstand, you hear an inhale. It wasn’t yours. Your eyes dart to the closet where you heard it, and that’s when you see a pair of amber eyes staring back at you through the cracks of the closet door. His gaze stays on your figure, watching your every movement while he tries to decide what to do in that half-second you make eye contact.

But you’re faster.

You’ve already sprinted to the closet door, practically ripping it off its hinges. You fist up the robe he’s wearing, dragging him out in a single and swift movement. One hand automatically covers his mouth to suppress any noise, while you tackle him to the ground. You pull out a small dagger from beneath your clothes, quickly pressing the sharp blade to his throat. You stare at him from up above his body as you trap him between you, your legs and weight holding him down.

•••

Zuko hadn't had a woman on top of him in God knows how long.

Your hand was forcefully pressing down on his face so hard he could barely make a sound. You were sitting on top of him, a small knife pressed against his throat with harmful intent. Your breathing was steady and controlled, all while he was practically panting from the panic–no, the excitement. Nothing about this situation was sexy, so why was a part of him excited that the mysterious thief was sitting on him threatening him with a knife?

It’s you, he tried to mumble against your hand, but you only pressed the blade into him more forcefully. He held his hands up to make peace; he wasn’t trying to die. Not now, not after he had just discovered that your piercing gaze had him giggling on the inside. 

“Not gonna put up a fight?” you sounded like an angel from heaven. He makes an X with his arms, and you remove the knife from his throat. “I only want one thing, Prince Zuko.”

I’m the Fire Lord, was what he tried to mumble against your gloved hand. He wondered if it was soft and nice to hold. 

“You scream, and I’ll kill you. Got it?” you promised.

He was still focused on your hand. It was smaller than his; it would for sure be lovely to hold. 

But he nodded, and in return, you hesitantly lifted your hand from his mouth. 

“GUARDS—”

You had already knocked him out with the opposite end of your dagger. 

“What a fucking turd,” you mumbled to yourself as you dragged the royal piece of shit back into the closet. You had gagged and tied up Zuko after knocking him out, and now that would let you carry out your mission in peace. Luckily the guards outside his chambers either didn’t hear him, or he wasn’t loud enough, because they didn’t make a move to enter or check up on him. You were going to find that necklace and sell it off the market, and probably do the same thing a couple of months from now when you run out of money again. Only with a different piece of jewelry. 

After searching the room, practically ransacking the entire thing, you were still unable to find it. Every drawer, every surface, every nook and cranny of his stupidly large room was uselessly empty. Although you had stumbled upon other pieces of jewelry, they weren’t nearly as much as his mother’s necklace. Settling with that, you left Zuko in the closet and took off.

The next time Zuko awakened he was parched and tied up. After struggling to escape the tied rope around his wrists, he searched his room for you. Most of the jewelry he had owned was gone, except for his mother’s necklace. Something precious and rare like that had to be hidden. If hidden counts as Zuko just wearing the necklace himself and hiding it under his clothes, then it was hidden. 

•••

Zuko hates that you haven’t shown up in weeks.

He also hates that he has noticed your absent presence. 

He knows he should be happy about not seeing you. After all, you are a thief and all you were doing was stealing precious valuables from him and the palace. Yet somehow he was beginning to find himself watching his windows at night, and at some point, he had become desperate enough to leave them unlocked throughout the night in hopes you’d visit.

You still didn’t. 

Although he hadn’t known you that long or that well, he had understood why you were doing what you were doing. After having to be on his own for a bit in his teenage years, he was able to realize the reality of what you were doing. He had assumed you felt the same way as him in his youth: lost and angry and desperate. Perhaps you had a family to feed. Perhaps it was just you. Perhaps you were just trying to survive, and this was the only way you knew how to do it.

Fortunately for him, his questionable rising feelings for you were ripped from his heart when he heard the news of why you had been gone for so long.

“She was seen harassing some girls by the river.” he had been told.

“She was jailed for a couple of nights for assaulting a group of men in a bar.”

“Not only was she stealing from you, but she has begun stealing from our citizens.”

“The people are scared, Zuko. She is a terror to our towns.”

Zuko knew you weren’t the greatest person to ever exist, but he didn’t expect you to go around assaulting people.

Harassing a group of girls? Stealing from innocent citizens? You were far from kind, and now that it was affecting people besides himself, he knew he had to do something. His people were in danger, and he wasn’t going to let some petty thief get away with assault and battery. He had to do something. His hand automatically came up to touch his mother’s necklace around his neck, knowing the fastest way to get you to come back would be to use that necklace. To sacrifice it.

•••

Sitting quietly on a tree branch as you munch on stolen bread, your gaze follows Zuko, who is pacing back and forth in his room. You knew you hadn’t been on your best game lately. More people were seeing you and there were growing numbers of your wanted posters each day. But you were growing desperate for money. You were aware that Zuko knew; how could he not? But he wouldn’t understand why you were doing all of this. While you’re busy watching his moves, you notice a shiny glint of a certain stone sitting on his chest. 

His mother’s necklace. 

Of course! You couldn’t find it anywhere in his room because he had been wearing it this entire time. You quickly decide tonight would be the night you’d sneak in to steal his necklace. But how? If he was wearing it the entire time, he would for sure wake up in the midst of you removing it from his body. You could probably knock him out first. Given that he was easy to knock out the first time, the second time shouldn’t be too hard. You bested him before; you could do it again.

After dropping down from the trees, climbing some bushes, and making your way up through walls and vines, you had managed to get to his window. 

It was unlocked.

Odd, since it was usually shut tight and locked. But it was unlocked and open and so easy to climb through. Zuko looks asleep, but he could be pretending to be. Was he trying to bait you? Get you to come in because guards were hiding and ready to ambush you? You hadn’t heard or seen anything, and since you had been watching him for a couple of hours, you hadn’t noticed anything. Shrugging, you decide to climb through anyway. You’d be able to fight back. Probably.

You silently land on his rug, walking over to him and standing over his body. His mother’s necklace sat around his neck, the moonlight shining on the precious stone and highlighting it in a beautiful glint. You watch him for a second, and this is the first time you get to look at him up close. 

His skin is practically flawless—perfect, even. The soft locks so perfectly frame his face shape and his jawline is so chiseled it could probably cut through ice and—

“Admiring my beauty?” his eyes slightly open, staring up at you.

You panic, rushing to grab your dagger from your side and practically climbing on top of him on his bed. In a split second he’s beneath you, your dagger to his throat once again.

“It’s you again,” he began, his hands at his side as if there wasn’t a whole ass dagger against his throat. “I was beginning to wonder where you had been. I missed you breaking into my room.”

“You look like you enjoy being threatened with a knife.” you spat out with a sly smirk.

“I wouldn’t say I hate it.” he teases, making no effort to resist you.

You press the blade to his throat once more, this time with much more force, and you hear his breath hitch. You weren’t actually planning on killing him; the cleanup would be far too messy. You just wanted to scare him, but he was looking more turned on than he was afraid.

“Do it again,” he tells you. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

“Making jokes when you’re the one in danger? That’s not very smart of you.” 

“I’m in danger? Oh, please. Don’t be ridiculous.” he grabs your leg from under, quickly turning the tables as he forces your body to his bed. You find yourself in his position, looking at him. He watches you from above, his long hair barely covering his face. His hands effortlessly pin yours above your head as you struggle against him. He’s pushed aside your legs so he’s fit snug between you and you can’t help but look down. God, what would the guards think if they walked in right now? You toss and turn against his silk sheets as he continues to stare you down, his gaze arrogant and inviting. Stealing your dagger, he tips your chin upwards with the end of it. He leans in closer, his body heat radiating off of him and his chest is practically pressed up against yours.

“So you could overpower me this whole time and only choose to do it now?” you question him. What the fuck was wrong with this guy?

“It joys me to be looking at you on top of me. But the view of you beneath me isn’t too bad either.” his voice is dangerously sweet and if you weren’t trying to steal from him you’d probably try to fuck him instead. With his body on top of yours and with his hips pressed against your own, your mind was beginning to cloud with the thought of taking his pants off instead of that dumb necklace.

“Is that so?” you ask him, raising an eyebrow.

“Turns me on.” he still has your knife on your chin.

“I figured you’d be a freak. Makes me wonder what other weird shit you’re into.”

“You could come and find out.”

“For a price I could.”

“I thought you were a thief; not a prostitute.”

“And I thought you were supposed to be good at fighting. Why have I bested you?”

“That’s simply because I let you.” 

You scoff. What the hell was up with this guy? “I bet you don’t even know how to use that. Put it down before you cut my precious face.”

“Oh, I would never do anything to hurt your beautiful face.” he lightly drags the knife against your skin, slowly and teasingly. 

“Having fun?” you tease, but you feel yourself swallow anxiously.

“Very much so. I know what you’re here for.” you watch Zuko as he continues to trace your skin with your own dagger. His eyes aren’t looking into yours, but are taking in your body.

“Alright, let’s make this easy then. Give me your necklace and I’ll leave,” you tell him. You were starting to grow more nervous the more he traced your skin with your dagger. Strangely though, you almost liked it. The sensation of the cold sharp metal against your skin was sending shivers of excitement down your spine.

“Have you seen your wanted posters? They’re all over the place.” he ignores your demand with a question.

“They could have drawn me better, but they’ll do.”

“It would appear no piece of art could capture your beauty so well. Looking at you up close and personal, those posters don’t do you any justice.” Zuko leans down, his mouth almost against yours, eyes droopy as he stares at your lips. 

You swallow nervously. Being trapped beneath him had you feeling anxious, but somewhere deep down excited. The way he was looking at you right now was definitely not the way you’d be looking at some criminal. He was staring at you like he was about to kiss you. 

You shakily exhale against his cheek, and he laughs lightly. Did you have asthma or something? Why were you breathing so heavily? You dare to look into his eyes, and it looks like a fire has been ignited in them. He moves his head so that his mouth is practically on your neck. You tense and shudder at the feeling of his hot breath against your bare skin.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers and his other hand moves to dangle his necklace in front of your face.

“Isn’t that what I just asked for?” you answer sarcastically. Being in close proximity to him was messing with your mind and body.

His robe is lazily draped around his body and his necklace dangles teasingly from his neck. Looking further down his body, you watch his broad chest heave as he teases you.

“It’s going to cost you.”

“You know I don’t have money.”

“It’s not money that I want.”

“What is it, then?”

Zuko smirks, and watching him has you feeling suspicious. Where was he going with this? Shouldn’t he be calling his guards in? You were wanted, and here he was sitting on top of you teasing you with your own knife? 

“Kiss me.” he finally tells you. His voice contrasts his expression; he speaks softly, gently.

“Are you fucking crazy? No.”

“I’m the one with the knife.”

“That all you got? Use it then.” you scoff.

Zuko hesitates, considering your statement. “Wouldn’t it be so sad to get stabbed with your own knife?” he smiles sadistically, and before you know it, he’s no longer on top of you. Your eyes widen in surprise as he grabs your hand and pins it to the wall above his bed, your dagger coming down about to stab your hand to the wall. 

You react quickly, dodging the stab and tackling him to the bed. Knocking the weapon from his hands, it falls to the floor louder than you thought it would. The heavy metal is obnoxiously loud in the silence of his room, and you both pause when you hear a guard from outside his room. 

“Are you alright, your majesty?” it’s one of the guards.

You panic once again, leaning down and pressing your lips against his to shut him up. If Zuko yelled that you were in here, you’d be thrown in jail again. You could handle fighting Zuko, but you probably couldn’t handle it if all his guards came in to fight you. 

He stills for a second against your lips, surprised you’re kissing him when just a few seconds ago he was aiming to stab your hand and pin it to the wall like a poster. But he knows you’re just doing it to shut him up, so he pulls away. Or at least, he tries to. But you’re pinning his hands above his head and holding his legs down with yours. 

Zuko struggles against your lips, trying to ignore the fact that you’re a good kisser and it’s distracting him from trying to get away from you. He should be pulling away from you; not pushing into you. When he comes to his senses, he manages to break free and scream.

“She’s here! The thief is here!”

•••

When you awaken, you see that you’ve been placed in a dark and dirty wet jail cell. You look up to see Zuko, standing on the other side of the bars, his hands holding on to the cell door as he stares down at you. You notice a glint of metal peaking out from the pocket of his pants. The keys.

“You’re a good kisser, I’ll give you that.” 

You ignore him. “What am I doing here?” Looking up at him makes you feel inferior, so you stand up, walking to where he is on the other side.

“Did you forget you’re a criminal? You’ve harassed two young girls by the river, assaulted four men at a bar, and stole from six houses in the area.” he lectures you. “You’re a menace to the town and you’re frightening my people. At first, I didn’t mind you stealing from me, but you’re going after innocent people now, and I will not stand by and let that happen,” he tells you, his voice high and authoritative. 

You scoff, did this guy even bother to investigate? “I was telling those girls by the river to fuck off or jump in because they were bullying a girl their age earlier in an alleyway and I saw. I beat the shit out of those men at the bar because they were trying to drug someone’s drink and nobody saw but me. Those six houses I stole from were just their homes. I may be a thief, but I’m not some crazy criminal that goes after innocent people.”

He looks taken aback, his knuckles turning white from gripping the cell bars too tightly. He stares at you, dumbfounded. 

“Even so,” he starts. “You can’t take matters into your own hands. We have law enforcement for that. You should’ve reported it. Why did you get involved?”

“Your police officers are trash. That shit show of a place is my home neighborhood, and your uptight officers don’t want to bother policing around because it’s poor. No one else is going to do something, so I did.” you tell him. Not that Zuko needed to know much about your shitty and poor upbringing. He wouldn’t understand anyways; he grew up in a fucking palace. 

“I’m working on that.”

“Not fast enough, clearly. If you’re not going to fix the problem of crime, then I will.”

“You can’t fight fire with fire.”

“Well I did and it worked. You wouldn’t know; you’re just a spoiled prince born into the royal family. You don’t know shit about struggle.”

It was like a slap to his face. “You don’t know me,” he snaps, his jaw tightening.

Looks like you've hit a nerve. If Zuko wasn’t pissed earlier, he was definitely pissed off now. You couldn’t understand him at all. First, he stares at you like he wants to fuck you, then he tries to drive a dagger through your hand, then he’s complimenting the way you kiss him, and now he’s looking at you like he’s going to keep you locked up forever. 

This man was attracted to you. 

And he had no idea how to deal with it.

A smile dances on your lips, feeling cocky and confident you’ve figured him out. He wants you, but he hates you. He hates what you’ve done, but he can’t help but be attracted to you. 

“You want me,” you begin, your hand forcefully grabbing the collar of his shirt. You eye his chest; his mother’s necklace is gone. “And you hate it.” you figured maybe you could use the fact that he wanted you to get out of jail. Maybe, just maybe, if you seduced him successfully, he’ll let you go. It was either that or violence.

“What the hell are you doing?” he rasps. His eyes search for yours in the dark in a panic. He is unsure of what to do, unsure of how to react, unsure of what to say. “Why the hell would I want you? You’re a criminal,” he says in disgust. “A thief,” he continues. 

“I just told you why I did those things. Can’t you let it go just this once?” you peer up at him, tilting your chin towards him. Your lips hover over his, and if it weren’t for the stupid metal bars between the two of you, you’d have hugged him. You hoped your shit way of seducing him was working at least a little.

Zuko’s eyes draw together in irritation. He was struggling to breathe, the close proximity throwing him off. It was dark, moody, and he could barely make out your face but even so, he was unable to tear his gaze from yours. He wasn’t sure if you were actually feeling him, and his gut told him you were just some filthy liar, but he couldn’t help but begin to feel bad for you. After hearing your explanation for your questionable actions, he was starting to feel that maybe you weren’t just some menacing thief the town made you out to be.

He ignores your question. “You can’t take my necklace this way,” he tells you, wondering if you were pulling this close to try and snatch it from his neck.

“I noticed you’re not wearing it,” you reply, wondering what more you might need to do to get him to slightly lean into you a bit more. “Please, Zuko.” you plead. “I have a younger brother to feed.” a total fucking lie.

His face leans closer to yours between the bars, and when you see in his eyes he’s let his guard down, you make your move. The keys are in one of your hands and the other punches him straight in his face, knocking him down. His body unconsciously slides down the bars as you quickly move to unlock the jail cell door. When you step out, your eye catches the shimmering glint of a stone on the ground. His mother’s necklace had fallen out of his other pocket.

“Fucking idiot.”

•••

She’s a filthy liar.

She’s a filthy liar.

She’s a filthy liar.

Zuko told himself that over and over like it was some sort of mantra. He thought that if he said it enough times, he’d eventually believe it. He had been absolutely humiliated by you. He was in utter shock that he let you seduce him, feel guilty for jailing you, feel bad for your supposed horrible life, and knock him out to escape jail. 

While he had to begrudgingly admit that you outsmarted him, at least he got you to stop your crimes. It was almost as if you didn’t exist at all. You had disappeared from the Fire Nation completely, nowhere to be seen in nearby towns or cities. When he sent out a search party, they had come back to him with news of your where your home was. 

“Burn it down,” he had told his men. “Burn it all down. That’ll get her to come out and give me my necklace back.”

“Are you sure? What about the people?” they were unsure.

“Stage it as an accident. And make sure there is nobody nearby. She took the most valuable thing from me, so I will simply do the same.” he could have totally gone after your brother, but he wasn’t a murderer.

God, Zuko was such a genius for that! You would for sure come marching back into his chambers demanding answers if he showed you that he meant business. And maybe you’d threaten him with a knife again.

God, Zuko was such an idiot for that.

He wondered if you were causing chaos in other places, but if you were, he would have been informed of it. He was unsure how you were living your life until he went back to his chambers that night.

Now that you had stolen his mother’s necklace, Zuko guessed you probably broke it up to sell it in pieces and were probably living quietly off of that money. But if that were true, then it was only a matter of time before you ran out of the money and were going to strike again. He debated if he wanted to send out a search party of his own to capture you, but he didn’t want his citizens to fear you again.

Instead, he merely sent out a search party to figure out your location. You were currently residing with a couple of farmers in the countryside, living quietly as you worked for them in the fields. He thought it was odd that you were working; after all, his mother’s necklace was worth thousands, so you could definitely live off of that for a while. It had only been half a year since he’s last seen you, so realistically maybe you did run out of money. 

He wanted to know what you did with his mother’s necklace. Where you sold it, who you sold it to, and when. That was one of the few items he had left of his mother, so he had held onto it like a child holding onto their favorite stuffed toy. And you had ripped it out of his hands like an angry parent. Zuko wanted to keep the whole situation under wraps, so instead of visiting you in person, he figured he’d do it some other way.

•••

“Lin, you have a letter.” one of the farmers handed you an envelope. You had taken a job under a fake name for some random people in the countryside after stealing Zuko’s necklace and running away. After coming back to your house burned down, you had no other choice but to leave. Sitting on some hay bales in the sheds, you tear open the envelope.

I want my mother’s necklace back. Send back with messenger.

Zuko

You scoff. Was Zuko that much of a coward he couldn’t show up in person and demand things with his own voice? He really had to send a whole letter and waste paper? When you didn’t respond, another letter came two weeks later.

I know you didn’t sell it. If you did, you wouldn’t be working for these farmers.

Zuko

and I know you don’t have a younger brother.

So Zuko was watching you, or at least he was having someone do the watching for him. But he was right about you not selling his mother’s necklace. You had stolen it in hopes of making some money off it by selling it on the black market, but after inspecting it further you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. 

It was something small and insignificant, but you could tell it meant everything to him. There was an engraving on the back of the stone, possibly hand carved by his mother. For My Zuko. You didn’t know much about the royal family, but you did know Zuko very much cared for her. Inspecting the necklace in detail reminded you of your own mother who had disappeared when you were younger. You hadn’t seen her since she disappeared without a trace, as Zuko’s mother did. Although she had left you, prior to that she was loving and caring and did her best to raise you as a single mother. 

You hated how his mother’s necklace made you think of your own. It opened a floodgate of emotions you didn’t have time to deal with. As weak as it made you, you didn’t have the heart to sell it. If anything, you were just going to give it back and move on with your life. But when Zuko sent word asking for it back, you knew what would happen if you did.

You’d give him back the necklace and in return, ask to be pardoned for your crimes. He’d probably oblige, and that would be the end of it. You would go back to being a petty thief and he would go back to ruling the Fire Nation. And the two of you would never interact again.

Something about the thought of Zuko no longer chasing after you had you hesitating to give the necklace back. Something about Zuko not being completely afraid of you had you hesitating. Something about Zuko being more intrigued than terrified of you had you hesitating. 

You hated it. You hated how he tugged at your heart strings and had you stopping in your tracks and thinking of ways to get him to keep reaching out to you. To keep chasing you. 

When you replied to his first two letters with silence, he sent another one a week later.

I apologize for the inconvenience I might have caused you by burning down your house. I didn’t realize that shed made of rotten wood was actually a home to you. Please accept the gold coins included to get you by.

Zuko

Shed? That shed?! Zuko was the one who burned your home down when you thought there was some sort of accident? If Zuko was trying to piss you off, it was working. Your blood was boiling and you felt your rage rising in your blood and all you wanted to do in the moment was hunt him down and punch him square in the nose for doing that to you. Although it wasn’t much, it gave you shelter and kept you dry and warm. You were grateful for it; besides, some people had it worse.

You continued to stay on the farm under a fake name, trying to get by as you planned your next move (you did not have another move) when you received another letter.

The gold coins were for you, not my messenger. Feel free to use them. There is no catch, in case that is what you are thinking. And you do not owe me anything in return except my mother’s necklace. 

Zuko

“Got a lover?” the farmer asked as he watched you read the letter.

“No,” the word escaped your mouth too quickly than it should have.

“Friend?”

“Not really.”

“Family member?”

“Nope.”

“Then?”

You paused. You weren’t sure what Zuko was. A lover? Not quite. Besides being on top of him an odd number of times in a short period of time and kissing him, the two of you weren’t in love. Enemies? You did knock him out and he tried to stab a hole through your hand and he did threaten you with a knife and throw you in jail and burn down your house, but—

“Ah, I see it’s complicated,” he told you, his eyes on yours.

Over a couple of weeks, you began to receive more letters from Zuko. Each one grew more desperate than the previous.

It gets quiet here around the palace now that you are gone. It is far too peaceful and I am beginning to crave the chaos you previously brought to my life. I wouldn’t mind if you reintroduced that chaos again.

Forget the necklace for now. Write me back.

Zuko

•••

In case you did not receive my previous letter, I am writing a new one. Your wanted posters have been taken down from the city, and like I told you, they do not do you justice. Perhaps a visit from you and we can redo the posters. Not to hang up again, but only so that I do not begin to think you are a horrendous hag as they make you out to be. You are completely the opposite.

Zuko

•••

I apologize if my previous letter offended you. I do not have a way with words. I only meant to compliment your beauty. Unfortunately, I am unable to describe it with words, so I apologize for not being a poet. The only thing I can think of is how you make me feel when you are trying to kill me with that dagger of yours. My heart stops and my gaze can only follow your actions. It is dangerous. You are dangerous. But I like it. And I miss it.

Zuko

•••

I do not know how many letters I have sent you. Normally I write them during the day because writing them at night makes me feel unnecessary emotions related to my longing for you. Please respond to at least one. I am getting desperate. So desperate I woke up in the middle of the night to write this one. The moonlight is shining through the window as I write this, and the only thing I can think of is how the moonlight highlights your beauty and how your sharp gaze pierces through my soul every time I gaze into the warm universe that is your eyes.

Please forget about the necklace entirely. I do not need its return. I only need yours.

Zuko

•••

Zuko is a light sleeper. Any sort of noise, whether it is a footstep or a gust of wind, he can and will wake up. It’s a footstep. His eyes twitch open in annoyance. Why are they opening his window? He had specifically told the servants to stay out of his chambers when he goes to bed, so why are they opening his windows? It’s far too cold and he didn’t need any fresh air–

There are no servants.

Zuko’s body jerks to life, abruptly sitting up and rubbing his eyes to clear his vision. Across from his bed is his window being forced open, a loud gust of wind interrupting him. There is a figure at the window, barely crawling in. Struggling to make it through the entrance, he watches the practically lifeless body stumble through onto his floor before he steps out of bed in a panic.

It’s you.

You’re hunched over on the floor, hand gripping your stomach as blood seeps through your fingers.

“What–” he barely has time to talk as he’s rushing over to you, lifting you into his arms effortlessly as he brings you over to his bed and lies you down. Hurriedly, he shrugs off his robe and presses it down over your stomach. He’s shirtless now, basically naked, but that doesn’t matter. But he did see you look him up and down. “What are you doing here?” he presses down on your wound to apply pressure.

“I–I didn’t know where else to go.” you managed to let out through clenched teeth.

“Who did this to you?” Zuko demanded, his tone of voice high and authoritative. 

“I’m fucking bleeding out and you’re asking me that?”

“Put pressure on this. I’ll call my doctor–stay here.”

After rushing out of his personal chambers to wake his doctor up in the middle of the night, he waited outside as they worked on you. It was a fresh stab wound. It wasn’t too deep and didn’t hit any vital organs, but you’d still be in pain when you woke up.

When you wake up, you instantly feel the pain from your stab wound. Your hand automatically moves to your stomach only to feel you’ve been wrapped up in bandages. Blinking, you sit up. A fire is going across the room, it is warm and cozy as opposed to the other nights you’ve spent in here. The other times you’ve been here have been cold and empty, but now it is the opposite. 

“Tea?” Zuko suddenly speaks up from the other side of the room. He crosses the floor and hands you a mug. “It’s jasmine.”

Taking a sip, you feel the hot liquid soothe your dry throat. “It’s nice to wake up in a bed rather than a wet jail cell.”

“You wouldn’t have been in that jail cell had you not assaulted me,” he slightly jokes, sitting across from you on the edge of the bed. 

He looks rugged, and tired, almost as if he hasn’t been sleeping. He gazes at you, his eyes softened as he watches your movements. He almost looks worried.

“So I suppose I’ll be going back to jail after you let me rest up a bit?”

He ignores your question, only choosing to tug his blanket further up your body in an attempt to warm you up. “Didn’t you get my letters?”

“I did.”

“You didn’t reply to any of them.”

“I didn’t know what to say.” A moment of silence fills the room, and you feel the need to fill it by continuing to speak. “I didn’t sell your mother’s necklace. I still have it.”

“You do?” his eyes light up, hopeful.

“I couldn’t do it.”

“Why’s that?” he ponders as you reach into your pocket to hand the precious jewelry back to its rightful owner.

“Reminded me of my own mother.” you don’t elaborate further. 

Zuko seems to sense this because he sets the matter aside with a small and quick nod, opting to watch you instead.

“Here,” you pull the necklace out from your pockets with a trembling hand and reach to hand it to him.

He notices your trembling hand, choosing to close his own hands around yours instead of taking the necklace. His hands feel like a warm embrace that engulf you in safety and warmth.

“Thank you,” he says as he sets the necklace down beside him. “But I’m more worried about you now.”

“After I stole from you and assaulted you?”

“It would seem I’m into women who can kill me.”

He looks up at you through his curled lashes, the soft locks of his hair caressing his face as he stares into your eyes, holding your gaze. “What happened to you?” he whispers gently, leaning closer to you.

It’s intimate, really. He’s in such close proximity it makes your heart beat with anxiety the closer he gets. You’d never noticed this before, but Zuko truly holds such a soft beauty to him it’s hard to look away. 

“One of those guys at the bar I beat up. Found me walking on the street alone.” you explain.

“You shouldn’t be out on the streets alone at night.”

You scoff. “Please, you should’ve seen what I did to him.”

“He stabbed you.”

“I stabbed him back. And at least all my bones are nice and intact. His, however, are not.”

A crooked smile spreads across his face. “Impressive.”

There’s an awkward silence and suddenly your mind goes back to the letters that he sent you. Each one grew more desperate the more time that passed and the more you ignored him. You recall each one practically confessing his feelings for you. 

Why though? How could Zuko even fall for you? After all you did to him: the stealing and thieving, the assaulting, everything. Yet he confessed through his letters, and you were sure he was about to confess again right now.

“Those letters,” you begin before he can even say anything. “Did you mean what you said in them?” 

“Every word.” he confirms. “You don’t believe me?”

“After all I’ve done to you, it’s hard to.”

“You can consider yourself pardoned for your crimes. Happy?” he offers.

“That’s perfect, actually. I was going to dangle your mother’s necklace in front of you and demand to be pardoned.”

“It’s too bad you got stabbed before having the chance to do so.”

“Still hard to believe your feelings though, I’ll admit.” you tell him.

A pause. Then, “Why don’t I show you then?”

The question hangs in the air. The air that’s slowly been filling with the unspoken sexual tension building between you both since you woke up. 

“Alright, prove it to me then.”

Zuko simply smiles in response before his lips are on yours. Despite what you thought, his kiss is gentle and you find yourself melting into it. You relax into his touch, into the fingers that find your hair to gently stroke the back of your head with such tender love and care. 

You’re out of breath quickly as he pulls away, his lips meeting the hot skin of your neck. You lean back slowly, trying to be mindful of your fresh stab wound. 

“Careful now,” he whispers against your neck and you shudder. “Lie down.” 

He guides your body so that you are comfortably laying on your back and his lips are at your neck again, leaving hot kisses across your skin. His hands firmly stroke your thighs, squeezing assuredly as he continues sucking and kissing at your skin. You arch into him, wincing at the pain in your stomach before he pulls away.

“Didn’t think a couple of kisses would have you arching your back.”

“Shut up and go down on me.” you demand as you begin to wriggle out of your pants.

“A former criminal telling the Fire Lord what to do? My my, think of the gossip that would go around if word of this got out.” he teases, propping your legs up and setting his hands on your knees. 

Zuko playfully spreads your legs open with his hands, stroking the exposed skin. He leans down, leaving a kiss on your thigh. His mouth continues on your skin, leaving kisses and bite marks and you feel yourself softly moaning from his kisses. Your hips slightly jerk up, and in response he gently holds you down with his hands. 

Pulling away from your thighs, he runs an experimental lick into your slit, and you feel yourself tremble in arousal. He holds your thighs open as you tense around him, yanking his hair to pull him further into you. You feel him softly laugh in response before he opens his mouth. He slowly and teasingly drags his tongue up your pussy, eliciting a moan from your lips. You gasp when you feel him sucking on your clit, expertly working on it as he gently sucks on it. 

You yank on his hair again, and you both moan at the sensation of pleasure running through your veins. You feel yourself heating up as your hips hump his face and his tongue drags up and down your pussy. You feel yourself throbbing, sweat beading at your forehead as he allows you to practically ride his face and pull on his hair. 

Something about Zuko letting you have your way with him has you throbbing and tightening around nothing. You whimper breathlessly and you feel him smile in response. He pulls away only for a second to blow cold air against your throbbing pussy, and you feel yourself shudder at the sensitivity. 

“Pull away again and I’ll give you a matching stab wound.” you threaten, yanking his hair again to drag him to where he belongs. 

“You’re lucky I’m into this.” he chuckles as he gives into your demand, tongue going back to your clit. 

You feel his fingers creep up to your slit, teasingly rubbing at your entrance before he slips a finger in. It slips in instantly, your slick wetness coating his finger as he moves it further into you. Your legs wrap around his neck and while he may or may not be able to breathe, you’re not worried about that. He’ll find a way. You enjoy his finger working you with his tongue in your clit, but you need more.

“More.” you demand.

“More of what?” he pulls away and stares at you from between your legs. 

“Your fingers.”

“So greedy you are.” he complains, but obliges anyway. 

You feel him insert two more fingers and you find yourself riding both his face and his fingers. You let out a moan of pleasure, your chest heaving as you ride closer to your high. You can feel Zuko squirming in his pants and you’re sure he might be uncomfortable, but in this moment you’re only worried about your own pleasure and it would seem he feels the same way. 

“F-Fuck,” you stutter, your hands fisting his bed sheets. 

“Careful, that’s silk.” he warns you against your pussy.

“Shut up and keep sucking.” you yank him back and he continues.

You continue to rock your hips up into his face as he fingers your slick pussy, fucking you harder and faster as your moans grow more desperate and your hips begin to clumsily rock against his face. He sucks at your clit and adds another finger and that’s when you feel yourself spill over the edge, shuttering and shaking against him as he helps you through your orgasm, fingers slowly helping you through it.

When you’ve come down from your high, he sits up, a visible boner against his robes. “Did you think we were done?” he smirks, wiping his face with the back of his hand and leaning in for another kiss.

•••

a/n: it’s my one year anniversary of writing on this blog! my next zuko story will not be him as fire lord i’ve written too many fics w him as fire lord, so i’ll switch it up in my next one <3

also nanami from jjk is next if anyone cares (ik i said i’d post levi after but he can wait lmao)

m.list

[impale-me-radio-daddy]

The Lookalike (Part 5)

☒ Summary: The first thing you remembered after your death was an argument. “No, this isn’t one of my fucking sluts.” The man behind you exhaled, frustrated. “This is a present for you. Something to help you work through your Alastor fixation.” You awaken in Hell as the near-spitting image of a certain infamous radio host. Unfortunately for you, you immediately fall into the clutches of his nemesis, and then into the talons of the Radio Demon himself. 

☒ Warnings: hermaphrodite!reader, deer!reader, they/them pronouns used, Alastor X reader, Vox X reader, Alastor X Vox, drug use, explicit sexual content, reader is in Hell for a reason, Valentino, canon typical scenarios.

☒ Author's note: This is now a series! Part I Part2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 Part 6 BONUS SCENE Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue

Given that you were the same size, and the intention was to have you pose as him, Alastor allowed you to raid his wardrobe without complaint. The bulk of it was variants on the same outfit, a palette swapped version of the suit that Vox had dressed you in, but you found enough pieces in the back to entertain yourself; a dress shirt with suspenders over it, a waistcoat, a jaunty little fez that attached to the hair with a hairpin and a cravat to hide the bruising on your neck.

You still looked like Alastor, but more of a bellhop than a concierge, and weighing the man’s gaze on you, you could tell this had been the right decision. He viewed you as his lesser, and seeing that reflected in your dress gave a less guarded edge to his smile that had not been there before.

Alastor returned your things to you, the wire and the aphrodisiac, and led you out into the hotel proper to introduce you to the rest of the staff.

“This here is Niffty,” said Alastor, fondly, gesturing to the pint-sized demon in a maid’s outfit who ran up to you as the two of you entered the lobby.

“Hello, Niffty,” you said, extending a hand to her. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Niffty stared up at you, her single eye wide and curious. Rather than speak, she placed a large dead cockroach in your open palm, then smiled at you toothily before running away.

Alastor’s eyes creased at the corners. “I think she likes you,” he said. “But who knows, honestly, so watch your back. The others here are Vaggie, with the one eye, the grumpy pussycat behind the bar is Husker, and that one there is our hotel’s singular guest, Angel Dust. Lucifer and his daughter aren’t here right now, but you’ll cross paths soon enough.”

Vaggie stopped and stared, her expression at first confused, and then angry. “Alastor, why are there two of you? What did you do?”

Alastor just smiled obliquely. “What did I do? Why, nothing at all. This good fellow is merely my body double. They’ll be assisting me for a while.”

Angel Dust squinted at you from his perch at the bar, his look appraising. “Soo… They slash Them?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Alastor stepped in before you could speak, an arm slung friendly around your shoulders. “Actually I think they’re more of a strangler.”

“So you found yourself a murder twin. Fuckin’ great.” The big cat behind the bar sighed as he polished a glass.

Taking out a handkerchief, you folded it carefully around the dead insect, giving it a little squeeze to check that it was actually dead, and headed over to the bar.

Angel Dust gave you a lascivious grin. “So how was sex with the tv?” he asked, both hands folded under his chin.

This time you felt a chill in the air as Alastor stiffened behind you. You could practically feel the static in his throat.

“I’m sorry?” you cocked your head, apologetic.

“Oh, don’t be coy, I saw the pictures.” Angel Dust winked at you.

“Pictures?” you felt your composure break, just a little. Of course Vox had taken pictures. The bedroom had been studded with cameras, and if you had to guess he probably had at least one embedded in his face. You hadn’t expected him to distribute them though. And though you’d only been in your body a few days, it was a little galling to think of strangers looking at your naked form. Your ears dropped fractionally.

“Oh shit, you didn’t know.” Angel Dust looked genuinely apologetic for about a second. “Well, welcome to Hell, I guess.”

Alastor took a seat beside you, not looking you in the eye. “He didn’t send them to everyone, of course. Only to me.”

“It doesn’t matter who he sends em to if he took em without proper licensing,” said Angel, sagely. “Was he any good at least? Or did he just lay there, with his big flat head?” Angel gestured in a square around his own head.

You gave a tight lipped smile. “I don’t talk about things like that. Past partners, I mean.”

“What’s the harm? Sounds like he already betrayed your trust.”

“Because it’s rude.” You spread your hands. “If I’m just going to behave like the people who wrong me, then who am I, really?”

“You’re in Hell,” said Angel, with a derisive wave of his hand. “Live a little.” He laughed, but Husk slid you a drink across the bartop, and you sensed something that might have been approval in Alastor’s gaze.

Your first week in the hotel passed quickly, with Alastor taking full advantage of your promise to help around the hotel. There were few guests, but the hotel itself was enormous, so most of your tasks consisted of cleaning, dusting, or pulling Niffty out when she got stuck in the air vents.

Alastor didn’t talk about the encounter you had shared, neither the tussle nor the intimacy afterwards, so you were a little surprised when he asked you to move into his room with him. The space inside the room was huge, and at night he would vanish into his personal swamp to do who knew what, leaving you to sleep in his bed with a set of his pajamas on.

A little personal space felt good after days trapped in Vox’s bedroom, but it didn’t take many nights for the bed to feel a little too large with only one body in it. That he was avoiding sharing the bed with you was a certainty; the sheets smelled like him, and more than once you found yourself sleeping curled around one of his pillows, face pressed against the fabric.

The way that Alastor would casually reach out and squeeze one of your antlers if he passed you alone in a hotel corridor told you that the two of you were probably still on kissing terms, or at least that Alastor thought little of such small displays of intimacy.

You spent time watching Alastor where you could, learning his mannerisms and gait. You lacked his magic, of course, but your voice had the same tendency as his to give a tinny, faintly distorted sound, and you found you could replicate his silvery canned laughter with a little effort. The physical part was a little more difficult, with your body still new and a little unsteady, but within the first few days you had a passable imitation of how Alastor walked. There was a quirk to his stride, an intermittent tension to his shoulders, which you began to imitate too. Perhaps it was an injury of some sort, but it was hard to tell. Alastor’s other major quirk was that he never dropped his smile. You didn’t copy that, but took note of it for later.

Walking past the lounge, you caught sight of Charlie and all the residents starting up one of their group activities, and stopped to watch.

Charlie clapped her hands. “Alright, everyone, for our next activity, we are going to do hugging! Everyone pick a partner, and we’ll do a one minute timed hug.”

“We’re one short if we want pairs,” said Vaggie, looking around the room.

“Hey, tall dark and ambiguous,” Angel Dust caught your eye from his place on the sofa, and wiggled an eyebrow suggestively. “You want in on this?”

You checked the watch on your wrist- after hours- and shrugged. “Sure.”

A cold presence manifested behind you. “If my double is joining, it would be remiss of me not to,” said Alastor, emerging from the shadows. His claws settled delicately on your shoulder. “You’ll be my partner, won’t you?”

You glanced back, spotted the possessive look in Alastor’s eyes, and nodded. “Of course. Sorry, Angel.”

Angel Dust gave an audible sigh as Niffty crawled into his lap.

“Alastor? You’re joining? But that leaves us with an odd number again.” Charlie’s face fell.

“That’s okay, Charlie. I can sit this one out.” Lucifer, who had been sitting on the second couch, got to his feet.

“But dad…”

“I’m being a team player. That’s what dads are for, right?” Lucifer gave his daughter a fond smile, which she returned uncertainly. “I’m just gonna take some air.”

“Okay.” Charlie watched her father leave the room, her expression clouded, but she shook her head, taking in the room of people waiting for her to speak. “Uh, okay. So, like I said, we’re going to do the timed hug, and everyone has to ask a question, and answer a question truthfully. I’ll start the stopwatch.”

Sitting in a chair with Alastor was the first time you’d felt his arms around you since he’d climbed atop of you in his bed. His chest fit flush with your back, and he hooked his chin over your shoulder as both of you settled into the cuddle. Had he done this just to stop you from cuddling up with the porn demon? It seemed likely.

“Will you start, or shall I?” Alastor asked, your faces close enough that you breathed the same air. Looking around, no-one in the room was looking at the two of you, each of the participants engrossed in their own quiet conversations.

“Is that your question?” you asked, mildly.

“A question each.” Alastor’s eyes creased at the corners. “Bravo, impostor. I believe we’ve fulfilled the conditions of Charlie’s activity.”

“Not quite. We’re here until the timer goes. So we might as well talk.”

“I suppose. What are you thinking about?”

“I’m wondering why you’ve asked me to sleep in your bed when you have no intention of sharing it with me,” you said, careful to keep your voice low, audible only to him.

“Oh? Is it so surprising that I want to keep an eye on my things?” Alastor’s smile quirked, a challenge. Say you’re not mine. I dare you.

“I don’t see Husk or Niffty sleeping in there,” you said, a soft challenge rather than a direct one.

Alastor trailed a possessive hand from your navel to your chest, making your breath catch in your throat. “Husker and Niffty,” he said quietly. “Do not have my face. Do not mistake their situations for yours.”

“And what is my situation, exactly?” you asked.

Alastor gave a hiss of displeasure at being cornered like this, and you noted the sound. His hand still over your chest, he flexed his claws, the sharp ends pressure points in a pentacle over your heart. “You’re mine,” he said. “Not anyone else’s. Mine.”

That was either deranged or romantic; you couldn’t quite decide which. “Because I look like you?”

“Because no-one else can be allowed to see my- our face. What we look like, in agony or ecstasy.” Alastor’s smile was steady, but his voice had a strained edge even at this low volume.

“That’s just for you, huh.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

“I wouldn’t have a problem with that if I felt like you had any intention of seeing my expressions yourself,” you said, your own quiet challenge. You liked Alastor well enough, but an eternity of celibacy was a tall ask.

Alastor laughed in your ear, the sound silvery, his slight chest trembling with mirth. “What would you propose we do?”

You mulled it over, comfortable in his embrace. Given Alastor’s reticence in sharing the bed, straight up propositioning him for sex probably wasn’t the correct route. “I have the bottle of aphrodisiac I took,” you said, careful not to mention Vox’s name. You’d wanted to have it as an option for your eventual hunts, but you had no idea what the suitable dosages might be. “I wanted to test it as a knockout drug. Help with that?” It was an lowball pitch, an objective besides sex and no obligation for him to perform.

“Surely you’re joking.” Alastor rolled his eyes. “I’m not about to be your test subject.”

“Of course not. You’re stronger than me. I’d be the test subject.” You intended the flattery, acknowledging Alastor’s strength, and caught a flicker of something like pride in his face.

“I suppose I could help with that,” he said, his tone light but his eyes betraying interest. “It might even be entertaining.”

Lucifer approached Alastor’s bedroom door with trepidation, and looked around. That Alastor might have been his inferior in terms of raw power, which the fight with Adam had proved, but he was a tricky one. He had been attending Charlie’s activity with his double, but who was to say there wasn’t a third or fourth Alastor in the hotel somewhere. Lucifer stared at a dark patch on the floor in front of the door for a second too long before realizing it was his own shadow.

Cracking his knuckles, Lucifer transformed himself into a tiny snake with a top hat, and slithered underneath Alastor’s door.

If Mr TV man wanted cameras and microphones all over Alastor’s room, the King of Hell would provide.

Despite your earlier bravery, nervousness was a tightness in your chest as you returned to Alastor’s room that night. Memories of your previous encounter swirled in your gut, and you reminded yourself that he hadn’t agreed to a repeat performance, at least not explicitly.

Alastor was already there, laying out a set of small brass scales on his table, picking the small weights from the velvet box with his talons and lining them up beside it. Wordlessly you stalked up beside him, placing the bottle onto the table and picking out a suitable thimble sized container from the box.

Ingested, or inhaled? Ingested, you decided- you had no idea if the stuff would rip up your airways. Balancing the scales, you measured out a few grams. Given that Vox had just left this laying around in his bedroom, you doubted such a small dose would be lethal, and if it knocked you out for the count, you trusted Alastor enough to put you to bed.

You removed your shoes and waistcoat, taking a seat before you swallowed the powder, clearing your mind and taking stock of your body.

The first wave of the drug’s effects hit immediately, and you were glad you’d been conservative with the dose. The warmth spread from your throat to your chest, leaving your nerve-endings buzzing in its wake as it spread.

Alastor watched, giving you a questioning tilt of the head.

You swallowed as sensation flooded your body, struggling to keep a clear head. “I’m going to run, now. Try and stop me.”

The hardest thing was turning away, not immediately offering yourself up for soft touches, skin against skin. Part of you wanted to turn around and offer to wrestle, but you had a good idea of where that would go. That in itself was a useful effect of the drug, but not enough. Someone who knew they were being hunted by you would have the wherewithal to at least try to run.

With your senses on fire, running was a strange sensation, each bound through Alastor’s ersatz swamp dimension feeling precarious, almost drunken. The air was thick and humid, and it almost felt as if it was pooling in your lungs, slowing you down. As requested, Alastor chased, a shadow in your peripheral vision, glimpses of him spurring you on. He didn’t run full tilt, as you were trying to do, but rather proceeded calmly through the bayou, moving closer with his shadow when your quick pace put him too far behind. The closer he got, the harder it was to keep running. Your arousal was evident to you now, your cock half-hard in your pants, your pulse almost tangible through your core, all the quicker for your physical exertion.

Alastor caught your forearm in his hand, and you stumbled, heart dropping in your chest. The drug was something similar to the rave drugs in the mortal world, making physical contact feel like affection, a little like falling in love, a little like a long night under the stars, backs against the ground.

“You’re not even struggling,” Alastor noted, quietly amused. “Do you think this dosage might suffice?”

“I can still run.”

“But you’re not running,” said Alastor. He trailed a hooked finger up your chest and underneath your cravat, pulling your head forward, his voice turning singsong. “You don’t want to run.”

It was true- you didn’t want to run. You wanted to lapse into something more carnal, pull him to the ground with you, but that wasn’t entirely the drug.

You did try to pull away then, but even his light touch felt inexorable. Alastor’s smile shifted, becoming less the surface level curve his face usually wore and more an expression of intense interest. You could feel the drug’s effects intensifying, your perceptions warping in a not entirely unpleasant way as Alastor pulled you to him. Heat in your face, heat in your loins. “Try to run,” he spoke into your ear, the touch of his breath on your skin making your hair stand on end. “Try to escape me.”

You did, some part of your mind still capable of resisting, and you twisted from his grasp, making it a few steps before he was on you again, this time pushing you to the ground.

You gasped into the dirt, your vision swimming.

“Would you like me to take notes?” Alastor asked, pinning you to the ground with one hand between your shoulderblades, the weight of his palm unnaturally heavy. “About how docile you are under the influence of this, how malleable?” He leaned in close, face beside yours. “How you become perfect, vulnerable prey?”

You moved without thinking, turning your head to kiss him. For a few seconds he returned the kiss, tongue sweeping against yours, before his body tensed and he recoiled from you. You rolled to your side, watching confused as he stumbled back, scraping his tongue with his hand.

“Fuck,” hissed Alastor, and it occurred to you the maybe he’d gotten a secondary dose of the drug from your mouth.

“It’s not so bad,” you called to him.

“It’s all very well you saying that,” said Alastor, a little archly, his smile prim. “You volunteered to take this stuff.”

“And you got a fraction of what I did,” you said, keeping your tone coaxing. “We’ll both be fine.”

You crawled over to him, laying your head against his knee, and watched his face, the way his pupils dilated, ever so slightly, antlers larger than they had been a moment before.

“You’ve poisoned me,” he grumbled, but didn’t stop you as you climbed into his lap, or as you leaned in to kiss him again. His body gave a small tremor as your lips touched, and you looped your hands around his shoulders, kissing his cheek, his jaw, your skin feeling like white light where it touched his. “A good showing again, my double,” he said, his smile almost feral against your neck.

“I didn’t poison you on purpose.”

“You would say that,” said Alastor.

He pushed you from his lap and onto the soft ground of the faux bayou, on your hands and knees.

“See what you’ve done to me?” He pressed his hard cock against the back of your thigh, hot through the fabric, and you whimpered, rolling your hips back against him. With a quick and trembling hand he unhooked your suspenders, pulling down trousers and underwear, freeing his own cock with a susurrus of fabric and pushing himself between your thighs.

“Fuck.” You bit your lip, feeling the heat of him, the swell of him, the wetness at his tip as he found friction between your inner thighs. The drugs made his touch feel like love, made your cunt ache and your own cock further stiffen and weep. He pushed your shoulders down and you cried out into the dirt, arching your back as he reached around to grasp you.

“Still, can’t say I object too vehemently,” said Alastor, hand curling perfectly around your cock, pumping in time with his own thrusts. “It’s not so different to masturbation, after all.”

You groaned at the dual sensation, Alastor’s hand firm but steady round your shaft, and the heat of his cock as he fucked between your thighs. “Inside me.” You raised your face from the dirt to speak. “Alastor. Inside me, please.”

Alastor gave a thoughtful hum, but backed off just enough to let you angle and open yourself for him. With the similarity in your stature, it was easily done, and Alastor held himself still as you lined your entrance with his tip, and pushed back onto him. Your senses still heightened by the drugs, the feeling of him was exquisite, every inch of him a heady burn as he filled your cunt.

“That is-” he made a noise in his throat, one of unmistakable pleasure. “That is quite a convenient bit of anatomy, darling.”

That simple utterance was enough to bring a flush to your face, no matter that the man was already buried to the hilt in you. Darling. He had called you darling.

The whole week you had known him, he had called you his pretender, his impostor, his double and on a handful of occasions dear, in the same way that a doting grandparent might call a child, but darling was a different name entirely. Darling hit different when he was balls deep, antlers growing, palm curled around your cock and about to fuck you. Some of it was bound to be your altered mental state, of course, but not entirely. Did he care for you? Did you care for him in the same way? You whimpered, soft animal noises as he began to move inside you.

Perhaps sensing your emotional state, or perhaps from sentiment on his own part, Alastor’s movement was slow, each thrust a burning stretch on your cunt that left you able to do little more than gasp into the dirt as he bottomed out, balls resting against your labia.

“Darling,” he breathed into your shoulder at one such nadir, and the amused exhalation he gave afterwards told you that he could tell exactly the effect that word had on you. With a startle you realized that he had become bigger than he was, not just his cock but the entirety of his body, his torso longer, his arms longer, even his fingers curled around your cock. “You asked for this, remember that.”

“Darling,” you returned, heart in your throat, hoping that he could feel what you felt, and his response was a deep, animal rumble, from inside his inhuman chest as he hunched around your smaller body. It was only one word, one term of endearment, but perhaps it was enough. He fucked you then, not with abandon but control, the control of a man used to inflicting sensation in an exacting and precise manner. Each thrust felt like a descent into madness, bringing tears to your eyes, making your hips quiver as you tried to move against him, but Alastor held your waist with one clawed hand. You came more quickly than you wanted, spilling onto his fingers and the dirt beneath you, and he fucked you through it, the stretch of him enough to make you twitch all by itself.

“Should I finish inside you?” he asked, a tight, trembling edge to his voice, and you realized that his usual playful repartee had been missing all the time he had been fucking you, that this whole time he had been hanging on for sheer life, holding himself from his own orgasm.

“Please,” you whimpered into the dirt, and your suspicions here confirmed as you felt the first hot pulse of his cum inside you almost immediately, a noise from him very similar to the one you had been making, something between an animal cry and the moan of a poorly soldered capacitor.

You felt Alastor collapse against your back, face buried in your neck. He gave a soft gasp, a barely audible fuck, and you pressed yourself against him as he emptied himself into you, pulse after pulse, until his body was the normal size again and his cum ran in thick rivulets down your thighs.

The notification pinged in Vox’s peripheral vision as he was halfway through the quarterly board meeting- new camera feeds now online- and the thought of it made his mouth go dry. He didn’t have much to do here other than closing remarks, and Voxtek’s CTO was deep into explaining some shit that Vox already knew, so what was the harm in it? Just a little peek. To check the system was working. He’d probably just see Alastor reading a book or some archaic fuckin’ thing.

Valentino never attended these things. Velvette did, but rarely, her face stuck in her phone until a particular item on the agenda caught her interest.

The other two did their bit in their respective arenas, but really, Vox was the one holding it all together. The board didn't need him today though. Vox eyed Baxter wearily, watching his chief engineer go through a presentation he'd seen three times before. Really, why shouldn’t he check the camera feeds?

Making sure that none of the feed was displayed on his face, Vox switched to the first of the cameras, and catching a glimpse of movement, switched feeds to one of the cameras in the bayou.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Alastor hunched over his lookalike, both of them with pants around their knees. Going at it, Alastor's eyes like radio dials, his body elongating as the both of you moved together. Fuck. This shit was live. Vox stifled a groan, then glanced around the boardroom, hoping that no-one had caught his reaction.

Oh, fucking fuck. Vox drew in breath, trying to compose himself.

“Sir, are you okay?” Baxter stopped mid presentation, looking at Vox with an expression of concern.

“I, uh, need to make a call real quick,” he said, and the board gave him confused looks as he stood, picking up his laptop and holding it in front of him to hide the tent in his pants. Live radio demon fucking continued overlaid over the board’s stares, screen-in-screen. “Carry on as you were.”

His cock now too hard for him to walk away with any dignity whatsoever, Vox called on his magic to zap himself out of there and back to the relative privacy of his control room. “Fu-uck,” breathed Vox as he stumbled forward to the control panel, watching with wide-eyed disbelief as he broadcast the scene to the big screen, piping in the audio, the breathing and the whimpering as well as the wet visceral sounds of sex. “Oh, fuck yeah.” He licked his lips, hand at his fly, transfixed by the sight. “That's some good fucking shit.”

Lucifer had fulfilled his end of the bargain and then some. Val and Velvette would have questions as to why they were suddenly giving loads of free shit to Lucifer's daughter, but he could handle that.

Right now, Vox was going to sit down and watch the Radio Demon fuck himself. The board meeting could fucking wait.

[milkistay]

backstage — yji

synopsis. the cute maknae from stray kids catches your eye backstage at m countdown. he’s been crushing on you since your debut.

pairing. jeongin x gn!idol!reader

format. imagine

word count. 2.2k

of course you knew of stray kids—it was impossible to even dip your toes into the world of kpop without hearing about the record-breaking 4th generation boy group whose success was undeniable—but aside from the handful of their songs on your playlists, you didn't know much about them. frankly, most of your attention was so focused on your own group and your next comeback and your upcoming shoots and your future fansigns that you barely had any time to become familiar with other groups.

backstage at m countdown, makeup artists were rushing between you and your members with brushes and lip tints, fans were whirling in the background to minimize sweating in your stage outfits, and the room had the faint stench of hairspray and coffee. the collar of your shirt was a bit too tight and the heat in the room was beginning to overwhelm you, despite the hard work of the fans. you motioned to the door to one of your members before slipping outside of the room, instantly gratified by the chill of the air conditioning in the quiet hallway.

that was, it was quiet, until you heard a loud shriek from one of the ends of the hallway. from a few doors down, two boys sprinted out of their room and a third followed, pointing a camera at them with a smile on his face. one of the first two boys was clearly chasing the other, arms held wide open asking for a hug, while the other expertly avoiding his embrace.

"ah!" the chaser—the shortest of them all, with broad shoulders and a grin on his face—exclaimed. "when did you get so cute?"

.

his victim—dark hair, sharp eyes, the most endearing smile you could ever think of on a person (he was smiling, despite being hunted down for affection)—laughed as he was cornered. he didn't give in, though, holding his arms out and pushing on the other boy's shoulders to keep him at a distance.

"enough!" he said, but he was giggling, even when he brought his fist up in a fake threat.

the chaser puckered his lips and the boy behind the camera let out a laugh.

"innie!" the chaser cried in an overly-sweet voice as he finally won the fight and enveloped the other boy in a tight hug. "cute, cute, cute!"

his victim's smile grew as he pulled his face away from the other boy's puckered lips. he was laughing with a thin blush on the apples of his cheeks and you couldn't help but chuckle at his predicament. he was still trapped in a hug when the three of them retreated back to the room and, as their door closed, you could hear a final complaint of "let go of me!"

later, you clutched a handheld fan centimeters from your face as post-performance sweat gleamed on your forehead. your stage microphone was still taped to your cheek and your in-ear monitors were draped around your neck. it was a great performance; you were extremely pleased with each of your members' execution and your staff members had praised you on a job well done. freshly-delivered starbucks drinks were handed out as you began to peel off unnecessary layers of your stage outfit.

when you finally collapsed on the couch, feeling cooled off and free from the shirt collar, you caught sight of the television on the wall live-broadcasting the m countdown stage. a boy group of eight were just beginning their first song when you immediately recognized the three boys you saw in the hallway earlier. their giggly, playful demeanors were gone, replaced by commanding expressions with a subtle air of sensuality. from the second the song track kicked in, your eyes were glued to the screen, watching the eight of them dance like it was their second nature and deliver their lines skillfully. they were beyond professionals and the simple title of 'performers.' the stage belonged to them. you glanced at the bottom of the screen at the words that read: stray kids. ah. they lived up to their endless praise.

you couldn't help but keep feeling your eyes drift to one member in particular, the one who you watched get attacked by his member in a hug. his presence on the stage was magnetic—sharp gaze, smooth movements, the youthful glow in his face. it was hard to believe this was the same boy who grinned brightly and laughed openly in the hallway. then, when the first song ended and the camera held onto his face for a few moments longer, he shot the audience a small smile and you recognized that lively glint in his eyes. you were charmed.

innie.

"do you know who that was?" you asked one of your members when the camera cut away.

your member finished a sip of their iced americano and shrugged. "i don't know. i think i recognize him—something with two letters. i want to say i.n?"

innie. i.n.

you later learned, from a quick internet search, that your member was right. his name was i.n, his real name was yang jeongin, and he was stray kid's maknae and vocalist. he was smiling in the accompanying photo that popped up.

you decided that wouldn't the last you saw of yang jeongin.

unbeknownst to you, yang jeongin had learned of you long before you spotted him in the hallway. when he first heard of the rookie group that had broken a record with their debut song, he was immediately intrigued and looked into your group. he watched a handful of music videos, listened to your debut album, and even watched some of your behind-the-scenes videos. every time, without fail, the person who caught his eye was you. there was something about your demeanor and your performances that drew him in. as he watched more content, he found himself incredibly attracted to your personality. plus, you were really, really cute.

since then, he had been keeping up with you in secret, always being the first to watch whatever the latest content from your group was, streaming your album on repeat, and popping into the occasional vlive. during a vlive of his own, he shyly mentioned that his new favorite song was one of your group's and slid in a couple of compliments in the most subtle way possible.

undoubtedly, he had a huge crush on you. he pulled your photocard in the album he bought and seungmin teased him for weeks over the giddy look that spread across his features when he saw it.

that's why, when he skimmed through the latest skz-talker episode, chuckling at the scene of changbin chasing him in the hallway for a hug, and the camera was angled in a way where it caught a figure standing at the other end of the hallway, he froze. the figure's face was blurred but he recognized your outfit immediately. he blushed and groaned with embarrassment. how was it that the first time you saw him in person it was during such a stupid antic like that? he wanted to meet you properly and charm you with a cool, professional manner. but no—you watched changbin chase him around in a baby voice. mortifying.

the next time you saw jeongin was at the kbs song festival. you sat in a chair backstage, impatiently tapping your foot and wishing you'd finish hair and makeup already. you fiddled with a certain piece of paper in your lap.

"all good," your makeup artist told you with a finishing touch of eyeshadow.

you thanked her and headed out of your dressing room with another word. it was a different building than m countdown was held in but hopefully the room you were looking for wouldn't be too far...

there it was. a few rooms down, taped onto the grey dressing room door, was a sign that read STRAY KIDS. should you knock? you suddenly felt a bit awkward; you weren't used to this kind of thing.

you ended up knocking, just loud enough to be heard over the blow dryer. the door opened moments later and a staff member stood behind it. judging by the quick look that flashed across his expression, he recognized you. you felt a bit more awkward.

"excuse me, but is yang jeongin here? i.n?"

"oh," the staff member said. he glanced behind him. "um..."

stray kids were spilled across the small room—some played games on their phones, one was asleep on the couch, another ate chips, and the rest were getting the hair and makeup done. but jeongin was nowhere to be found.

as you scanned the room, you locked eyes with one of the members getting his makeup done. you recognized him—seungmin, if you were correct—and his eyes widened in shock.

"you're looking for jeongin?" he asked you, like it was the most impossible thing in the world.

you gave him a short bow. "yes, i'd like to give him something. do you know where he is?"

"he's in the bathroom." his expression was deep with regret. "i can go get him right now."

"oh, that's okay," you assured. "i don't want to be a bother."

"no, no," seungmin said, getting up from his seat. "wait here for a bit, i'll go get him."

he slipped past you and out the door with a sense of urgency. you really didn't want to make it a big deal, and you felt bad for making him run an errand.

"i'll wait in the hallway, thank you," you told the staff member.

he nodded the closed the door uncertainly. you fiddled with the paper. maybe you should've just given it to seungmin.

one of your own staff members peeked her head out from your dressing room.

"what are you doing out there? you have to go on in two minutes, you have to come now."

"now?" you asked, even though you knew that two minutes already meant you were running late.

"yes," she urged.

you sighed, glanced at the direction seungmin left and stuffed the paper in your pocket.

"okay, let's go."

you were so focused on your performance while onstage that you didn't even think about jeongin or the paper in your pocket. you executed every practiced move with precision and smiled when the audience cheered at your parts. it was a fantastic performance and one that left you exhausted by the time you stepped off and walked back to your dressing room.

you were talking animatedly with one of your members when, right before you entered your room, you spotted jeongin standing nearby, his hands in his pockets and his shy gaze on you. he was really cute.

"i'll be there in a sec," you told your member and they closed the dressing room door, leaving you and jeongin alone in the hallway.

after a brief moment, he gave you a deep bow, one that you reciprocated immediately.

"hi," he said, eyes big and curious. "one of my members told me you were looking for me."

his hair was carefully styled and his makeup looked like it was just finished—bronze eyeshadow that drew attention to his eyes, a light rosy blush on his cheeks, a pink tint on his lips. he looked astoundingly good.

"yes," you told him with a chuckle. "yes, i was. i—uh—i wanted to give you something."

"really?"

you reached into your pocked and pulled out the paper. "yeah, well, i noticed you during m champion and i sort of thought you were very attractive," you admitted, a smile on your face. "hot and cute at the same time."

"oh," he said, the tips of his ears quickly growing red. he glanced down at his feet, then back at you. "i sort of think the same about you. i find you very attractive."

your smile grew. "is that so?"

he let out a small, beautiful laugh. "it's a little embarrassing, but yes."

"well," you began and held out the paper for him. "this was what i wanted to give you."

he took it from you and carefully unfolded it.

"it's my phone number," you told him. "if you want to, you know, get in touch with me later or something. maybe we could go for a coffee or dinner sometime."

he grinned brightly, that endearing smile of his that warmed your heart.

"i'd love that," he said. "really. i'd really love that."

you giggled. "great. i'm happy to hear that."

the two of you stayed there a moment, trading smiles and coy, pleased looks.

"i have to get back," he said, a twinge of disappointment in his voice. "i have to perform soon, so i should get back."

you nodded. "yes, of course. good luck onstage! and get in touch when you can."

"thank you, i will definitely get in touch soon. definitely," he assured. "see you later!"

"see you, jeongin."

you shared one last look of childish joy before he turned to leave and you slipped back into your room, a mental image of his gorgeous smile at the front of your mind.

[axelsagewrites]

kindly no pressure asking if locker room roy kent x reader will have a second part where jamie and roy finally talk/confront/fight? 🫣

Roy Kent*Apologise

Pairing: roy kent x f!reader

Word count: 1422

Warnings: swearings, mentions of semi public smut and getting caught, mentions of masturbating, a lot of swearing  

Part one here

Masterlist here

The night Roy met you was the best day of his life but the day you sucked him off in front of Jamie’s locker. And the thing that somehow made it better? Jamie saw it. Roy had the next two days off from Richmond so best believe those two days were spent in bed with you, only leaving for food and water.

Roy was smiling as he walked into Richmond. A sight that truly unsettled all the staff and his teammates. “Alright Isaac? Nice weather the day innit,” he grinned at the boy as they walked to the locker room.

“Uh yeah captain. It’s nice,”

“Gotta love when the suns out. birds chirping. A breeze in the air,”

“Yeah, yeah,” Isaac muttered, looking over at Colin who looked terrified of Roy’s happiness.

As Roy walked into the locker room Colin paused to whisper to Isaac, “Wasn’t it raining?”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Isaac said, eyes never leaving Roy, “but it cannot be good,”

As the rest of the team began to filter in Roy continued to make happy small talk, even asking Sam how his weekend had been. It was freaking everyone out. the other odd thing however just walked through the door.

“Alright Tartt?” Roy called over, wide grin on his face, “Hairs looking good,”

Jamie just nodded, muttering a quiet thanks as he began to get changed with a grimace on his face when he got to his locker. “What the fuck is going on?” Colin whispered to Isaac who was seriously considering taking up religion in this moment.

Jamie had never been so quiet during a practise. He did every drill without complaint, scored every kick, and even passed the ball. “I’m worried about him,” Ted sighed as he watched him play, “He just doesn’t seem himself,”

“His playing’s excellent though,” Nate said, before trying to joke, “Maybe this is the start of a mature Jamie Tartt,”

Beard crossed his arms as he stared out onto the pitch, “There’s a disturbance in the force. Besides. Roy’s creepy when he’s happy,”

-

“Great work Colin, nice foot work,” Roy praised, patting the boy on the shoulder before running to get the ball.

Just as everyone was about to call for a priest you walked out of the tunnel. Usually, your presence was first notice by Jamie who would give a loud wolf whistle but instead you were able to walk up to Ted without drawing much attention. “And what do we owe this pleasure?” Ted asked, a smile on his face.

“Hey coach. Roy forgot his phone, so I came to drop it off,”

As if on queue Roy jogged over to the group, ignoring everyone but you who he gave an unabashed public kiss too despite usually hating PDA. “What would I do without you?” he joked as you both walked to the side so he could put it in his hoodie.

“You’re in a good mood. Jamie’s still alive though?” you joked.

A wider smile cracked his face, “He’s growing on me. What can I say?” he said but you paused, crossing your arms to scan his face, “What?”

You glanced to the field only to notice Jamie instantly look away when it dawned on you, “You told him!” you whisper yelled, smacking at his chest.

“I did not,” Roy protested, trying to look serious when a smile cracked back on his face, “He saw us,”

All of Roy’s happiness flooded away when a look of pure thunder crossed your face and your hands went to your hips, “And you didn’t think to tell me? Have you been torturing that poor boy?”

“No but- “

“Don’t ‘no but’ me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why are you defending him- “

“Does my face look like it cares?” you asked, dropping your hands from your hips only to cross your arms again, “Whatever you’ve been saying to him you better stop,”

“I didn’t say anything! I swear,” Roy said as he realised how much he’d fucked it, “I didn’t mean to upset you,”

“You don’t need to say anything to say something,” you said, rolling your eyes at the confused look on his face, “You better apologise,” you said making Roy scoff, but you were prepared to call his bluff, “No apology, no sex. Sorry I don’t make the rules,”

“That is so not fair,” Roy scoffed, “You can’t do that,”

“Try me,” you smiled as sweetly as possible before turning around to leave, swaying your hips a bit extra than usual to drive the point home. “Bye boys!” you called to the team, glancing back at Roy to send a quick wink before you left.

-

The force was slowly being restored since Roy was now back to miserable and angry but unfortunately Jamie’s mood hadn’t changed yet. Ted had tried pulling Jamie aside but he just shrugged it off. The team was back in the locker room, getting ready to leave.

As Jamie turned to leave though Roy sighed, “Tartt,” he called through gritted teeth, “I need to talk to you,”

“Maybe I don’t wanna talk to you,” Jamie said and the tension in the room could be cut by a knife.

Isaac went to whisper something to colin but before he could even start Roy’s head whipped around to glare at them, “Everyone out,” he barked and instantly the boys sprang to leave, “Everyone but Tartt,”

“Hey I think it might be best if I stayed-“ Ted tried to say but the low growl from Roy and glare from Jamie had him exiting just as swiftly.

“What?” Jamie asked, huffing as he crossed his arms.

“I’m,” Roy started to say but the words tasted like sick as he tried to force it out, “Sorry,” he eventually managed.

“What for?” Jamie asked, cocking his head to the side.

“You know what for,” Roy huffed, “Not stop taking the piss and take the apology,”

“That’s not how apologies work ya know?” Jamie said, dropping his arms, “Ya big creepy weirdo you,”

“Hey, you’re the one that was watching!”

“Was not!”

“So, what were you doing in your car then?”

“None your damn business!”

“Uhuh sure,” Roy said, drawing out the words as he chuckled, “See if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were the pervert. Watching me and my girlfriend- “

“Fucking in my fucking locker? Like a pair of fucking fuckity weirdos fucking- “

Roy couldn’t help but laugh a little, “You’re starting to sound like me,” he said making Jamie huff like a child. Roy sighed as a horrible feeling set in; maybe he had been wrong, “I’m sorry. I crossed a line. Won’t happen again,” he said, actually sincerely for once.

Jamie eyed him up and down before finally nodding, “Okay but just you know. Don’t tell anyone about well…”

“I wish I didn’t even know,” Roy joked making Jamie roll his eyes. The pair were silent for a moment, “We good then? You gonna start being a prick again?”

“You’re terrible at apologies,” Jamie rolled his eyes as he grabbed his bag, “but yeah, we’re good. don’t know how she puts up with you though,” he said as the pair headed out the locker room to finally go home.

Roy couldn’t help himself, “Not just her who goes down- “

“We are not that close,” Jamie cut him off, holding his hand up to Roy’s face and making him cackle laughing.

The pair actually walked out of Richmond joking and laughing together. A sight you saw while you waited to pick Roy up. “See you tomorrow?” Roy said, sending you a quick wave as he walked to the car.

“Yeah mate. Hey you never know,” Jamie said, tapping Roy’s shoulder making him pause, “Maybe next time it’ll be me and Keeley in your spot,“ he tried to joke but Roy’s smile dropped into a harsh glare, “On second thoughts I think I’m late to something bye!” he half yelled as he jogged to his car, never turning his back on Roy.

As Jamie sped out the parking lot Roy finally climbed in the car, “What did you do?” you asked, squinting at him.

“I apologised! Honest,” Roy said, holding his hands up in mock defence, “You can ask him yourself tomorrow,”

“I will text him,” you warned as you started the car up.

Realization dawned over Roy, “How’d you have the pricks number?”

“He gave it to me ages ago,” you shrugged, “Encase I ever needed it,”

“That little fucker,”

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[coochiequeens]

A patient said something she thought was in confidence and he (the doctor) shared it with staff? And now TRAs are harassing a woman fighting breast cancer? That doctor needs to lose his license for violating patient confidentiality

A woman in Oregon receiving treatment for breast cancer has been dropped by her health clinic of 12 years because she expressed views critical of gender ideology.

Marlene Barbera, who is scheduled for a mastectomy later this month, told Reduxx that she had commented on the presence of a transgender pride flag that was hanging in the waiting room of the Richmond Family Medical Clinic in Portland last year.

Barbera explained that she had written a message to her doctor on MyChart, a website where patients can access their personal health information, describing that she found the inclusion of “political messaging in a healthcare setting” as “offensive.”

She, like a growing number of women, has “gender critical” views, rejecting modern ideologies that conflate biological sex and “gender identity.” Barbera mentioned she had faced rape and death threats from trans activists on X (formerly Twitter), many of whom would have identified with that same flag.

Initially, the Doctor, who she revealed had been her primary care provider for over ten years, said that he would not take the flag down. But while Barbera had initially believed their correspondence to be private, she later discovered that the note to her physician had been viewed and shared by other staff at the clinic.

This June, while attempting to leave a message for her doctor regarding blood test results, the issue continued to escalate. A receptionist at the clinic, who Barbera speculated was transgender, did not permit her to be patched through to her doctor.

“The person insisted I make an appointment. I have breast cancer and consequently an abundance of medical appointments so I did not want to do that. They got frustrated with my ‘non-compliance’ and hung up on me,” Barbera told Reduxx.

“Thinking it might have been in error, I called back. I was told I was ‘not allowed’ and that I must speak to the previous person who had hung up on me. I declined as things hadn’t gone well the first time.”

She then questioned whether the refusal from the first receptionist was due to her previous complaint about the trans pride flag in the lobby.

“I asked, guessing ‘did I hurt the trans person’s feelings?’ And the receptionist took offense to the question, asking ‘what did you say‘ slowly and with great emphasis.”

Weeks later, Barbera received an email from Oregon Health Science University’s (OHSU) Stein Berger, informing her that she had been “discharged from receiving medical care at the Richmond Family Medicine Clinic,” effective immediately, with services to be cut off from all OHSU Family Medicine Clinics, including immediate care clinics, from July 29th. The email did in fact specify that she was being removed “because of ongoing disrespectful and hurtful remarks about our LGBTQ community and staff.”

Barbera told Reduxx that the incident had sent her “anxiety through the roof” and that she was struggling with her mental health as a result of the stress.

“I have severe chronic agitated depression since teen years,” Barbera explains. “Now I have no primary care doctor and nowhere else to go. I have been made to feel like a worthless nothing.”

This is not the first time a woman has lost access to critical medical services due to her “gender critical” views.

In October of last year, a woman identified as Emma by the UK’s Daily Mail was banned from having an operation in London’s Princess Grace Hospital because she requested single sex accommodation. The woman, who had been scheduled for a complex colorectal operation, also expressed that she did not want to “use pronouns or engage with such manifestations of gender ideology.”

Despite having experience being the victim of sexual assault, Emma was banned from having her procedure at the facility for requesting single-sex care.

[munson-blurbs]

Oneforthemunny's Summertime Writing Game

Thank you @oneforthemunny for organizing such a fun writing game! This is one of two collabs with @corroded-hellfire; the other will be posted on her blog soon!

Eddie comes home to see you sunbathing…topless ;) Janitor!Eddie x Fem!Teacher!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (m! and f! receiving), cum eating, semi-public acts, kinda subby Eddie (more simp than sub tbh), reader wears a bikini (all bodies are bikini bodies and I will run up die on that hill)

WC: 1.7k

Summertime as a kid is great. Summertime as a teacher is complete, utter bliss.

You’re laying stomach-down on a beach chair in your backyard. There’s a glass of lemonade, ice melted from the sun, on the snack table beside you. The yard is slightly shaded by the overgrown oaks, but with your level of relaxation, you might as well be on a tropical island surrounded by palm trees with a frozen strawberry margarita in your hand. 

While you’re off until early September, your sweet husband isn’t so lucky. Custodial staff still has to report to work, albeit only for half a day, because of summer sports practices. Eddie had been grumbling something about setting up the goalposts for the boys’ soccer team, though you hadn’t heard his full complaint since you’d been half-asleep this morning.

It’s just past noon now, which means he’ll be home within the next ten minutes. You grasp at the swimsuit ties at the nape of your neck and around your upper back, loosening them and tossing your bikini top into the grass below. 

Eddie’s van rumbles into the driveway shortly after that, tires crunching over gravel. You shift your weight slightly so that your chest is pressed into the rubber straps of the chair, shielding your exposed nipples.

“Baby?” you call out once you hear his door slam shut. He walks over to the gate separating the front yard from the back and unlatches the hinge, closing it gently. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees you, sans top, splayed out before him.

You turn your head to face him, smiling as his eyes widen in surprise. “Can you put more sunscreen on my back?” you ask, voice sugary sweet. “I don’t wanna burn.”

“Um, yeah, sure.” He takes the bottle next to you–just the drugstore brand, but it gets the job done–and squeezes a dollop of lotion into his calloused palm. You press your legs together, making room for him to straddle your body with one thigh on either side of yours, groin nudged close against the curve of your ass.

You can feel him getting hard through his coveralls, and he shifts slightly to try and adjust himself without smearing lotion on his work clothes. He grumbles a muted “fuck,” under his breath, assuming you can’t hear him.

“Eds? You okay?”

He clears his throat, embarrassment creeping into his voice at being caught. It seems absurd that he’s still so modest about getting turned on when he thinks he’s not supposed to, and you have to bite back a giggle. 

“Mhm. Just makin’ sure it’s even and…stuff.” 

Once you hear him close the cap on the lotion bottle, filled with chagrin as his hands leave the canvas of your skin, you flip onto your back and give him the perfect view of your bare breasts.

Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. “You want me to p-put some there, too?” he stammers, starting to reach for the sun lotion again.

“Mmmm, no.” You grab him by the collar of his coveralls and pull him in for a kiss, parting his lips with your tongue as his body practically collapses on top of yours. 

He braces his palms on the edge of the chair. “Baby, baby, baby, what’re you doing?” He’s breathless as you roll your hips up towards him, creating the delicious friction that you both crave.

You give him a playful pout, jutting out your lower lip. “Am I being too subtle?” Eddie’s eyes follow your hands as they make their way down to your swimsuit bottoms and his jaw goes slack as you shimmy out of them. “Are my intentions clearer now?” 

A sound resembling a growl sounds from deep in his chest as he practically tears the zipper off of his coveralls as he struggles to get them off. Giggles spill out of your lips as you watch him finally toss the offending material in the same general direction as your swim top. He’s left above you in only his undershirt and boxers.

“Be a good boy and take that off for me, hm?” you purr. Eddie feels a shiver go down his spine at your words and he quickly nods his head.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The white t-shirt and blue boxers soon go the same way as the coveralls and your husband’s body is hovering over yours. 

“That’s my good boy,” you praise him.

Eddie scoots down a bit, lips pressing against the skin of your neck, then your chest and stomach. 

“Can I taste you? Please?” he mumbles into the skin just above your belly button. 

“Of course.”

There’s no hesitation between your response and Eddie lifting your legs over his shoulders and licking a stripe up your heat. Your hands grip the sides of the lounge chair as your back arches. Eddie knows your body like the back of his hand and how to make you squirm right away. 

You’re pretty sure your lip is going to bleed from how hard you’re biting down on it as Eddie sucks your clit into his mouth. Large, calloused hands run up the outside of your thighs and rest on your lower stomach. You can feel more than hear the soft moans coming from your husband as his tongue moves down to prod at your hole.

“Shit,” you murmur under your breath. The sounds coming from between your legs are obscene but only make it even hotter. 

Eddie lets one of his hands come back down your body and he slips two of his fingers inside of you. The movement of his digits pumping in and out of you starts off slow at first, then picks up speed. It’s impossible to keep your moans to yourself at this point, just trying to keep quiet enough that any neighbors that are potentially outside won’t hear. 

“Close. Fuck, I’m close.”

The feeling of his tongue flicking over your clit joining the motion of his fingers has your muscles tensing, your legs tightening around his head as you feel your pleasure hitting its peak. One hand reaches down and tangles in Eddie’s curls, fist tightening and giving a small tug on the roots. 

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” tumbles out of your mouth as the wave crashes over you, causing you to clench around Eddie’s fingers. He doesn’t slow down, just keeps working you through it with both his hand and mouth. 

Once your body relaxes back against the chair, Eddie pulls his fingers out and pops them into his mouth. His eyes close as he savors the taste of you on them. When his eyes open, it’s just in time for you to pounce on him. 

“You’ve had a hard day, baby,” you coo, wrapping your hand around his hardened length. Pre-cum pearls at the tip, dripping onto the flesh between your thumb and forefinger. “Let me take care of you, hm?”

Eddie just nods and whimpers, throwing his head back as you sink onto your knees in the freshly-cut grass and give him teasing kitten licks. 

“‘S that enough?” Of course it’s not; you know it’s not, but you love keeping him on edge.

“M-More. Please, need more,” he stammers out, legs quivering slightly. His quads flex as he tries to steady himself.

You indulge him, taking him fully between your lips. You swirl your tongue around his achingly sensitive tip, sucking sloppily. Drool runs down your chin but you make no attempt to wipe it away. He loves the way you so easily wreck yourself on his cock. 

“Feels s’good,” he groans, going weak in the knees when your hand attends to the part of his shaft not in your mouth. “Oh, fuck, that’s it. My beautiful girl.” His whines are loud, too loud considering the proximity to the nosy couple next door. They’re supposed to be at work now, but you never know who could be listening. 

“Shh, gotta keep it down,” you remind him, and he lets out another strangled whimper at the loss of your warm mouth. Pinching his inner thigh in retaliation, you say, “you want our neighbors to know that I’m sucking you off?”

Eddie shakes his head, curls rapidly brushing against his shoulders. “N-No.” Well, yes, he thinks, but he doesn’t dare admit it. 

You cup his balls, rolling them in your open palm while continuing to blow him, all too aware that you’re pulling the trigger. 

Sure enough, his throaty grunts punctuate the still summer afternoon. “Baby, mmm, fuck!” he manages through gritted teeth. You take him deeper, nose nestled in the unruly thatch of pubic hair adorning the base of his cock, doing everything you can to ward off your gag reflex.

“M s’close, shit, please let me cum on your tits,” he pleads, sounding as though he’s on the verge of tears. “Please, baby, I’ll do anything to cum on those perfect tits.”

You unceremoniously release him from your warm, wet mouth and jerk him a few times until he spills onto your chest. Thick white ropes of his spend now adorn your breasts as he stands there, breathless, his softening cock still in your hand. You take your pointer and middle fingers from your free hand and swipe at the cum, bringing them into your mouth and swallowing with a triumphant grin.  

You reach for your discarded swimsuit top, wincing when you try to fasten the ties. “Ouch,” you mutter, “feels like I did get a little burned on my back.”

Eddie’s eyes remain trained on your chest; specifically, the spot where you’d missed a bit of his cum just below your left nipple. He feels his cock start to twitch with the beginnings of another erection. “We have after-sun lotion in the house,” he finally says. “Get on the bed and I’ll give it to you.”

You throw him a wink, following his gaze to wipe off the cum before cheekily licking it from your finger.

“Oh, I bet you will, big boy.”

--

[caskethrill]

chat should i continue this …

very old n long draft of carmen berzatto. nsfw under the cut :-)

you were unburdened by talent and high-strung— a baker by association and absolutely clueless in the kitchen.

“aren’t you supposed to be good at this?” richie would remark, evincing an expression that united both quizzical and concerned.

“i never said that.” you glared down at your massacre of fat, jagged chunks of carrot. gory evidence weighed tightly around your fingertips in the form of sticky, fabric bandages. you come from a family of professionally trained pastry chefs— you had been force-fed sweet spoonfuls of in doubt compotes and tested freshly-filled cream puffs your entire life. you didn’t know the first thing about julienne and chiffonade. what you did know it was too much to live up to.

“fuck off.” the bass of his voice is wired and terse— loud and directed at his cousin. but to you, carmy’s voice is tender.

“s’okay, chef. let me see.” an amused and benevolent grin splits his lips as he perches a set of scarred fingertips upon your elbow. your method of ‘attack’ on the ill-fated vegetable is adjusted and your slices are thin again. “just like that, chef.”

you needed this job. you were strapped for cash and employment rates were at an all-time-low but you were a hard-worker and a quick learner, or at least that’s what you had told carmen berzatto in an attempt to plead your case. you had stared hopefully up at him from the chair in his office, all wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. your pencil skirt was short and the kitchen was unbearable. he couldn’t say no.

“‘attagirl, chef.” “easier like that, huh, chef?” “you like that, chef?” “doing so good, chef.”

you needed this job— it was a mantra that needed repeating at least ten times a day. you needed this job… bad. he was your boss, and unfortunately, the star-crossed crushing of it all made it all the more enchanting. it took bloody palms and searing hot pans on sensitive, bare flesh in one day for him to provoke the insufferable desire. “such a clumsy girl,” he’d jeer, and you’d positively melt.

you’d laugh suspiciously hard at his jokes and he would ignore the alien crater in his gut each time you stood close enough for him to get a whiff of your fragrance— herbs and pepper and vanilla extract, but you, nonetheless. he’d comp you a meal on particularly demanding days and wave off the disembodied crowd of complaints about nepotism and threats of hr visits coming from the rest of the staff. you were his favourite, and it was no secret.

“you’re in today?”, “you’re still here?” or even "get a life, for fuckssake," were too phrases you heard too often. the latter was richie's favourite. you handed out your days off and picked up overtime in the name of ‘i miss him and wonder what he is doing and can't breathe right every time we are apart’. a great cause, in your opinion.

“you know i’m not paying you for this, chef.” carmy satirized one particular night, a lazy smirk hanging onto the corners of his lips. this particular night, graced by whatever gods or receiving all of your good karma in one single sum, you were the only two left at the restaurant, paint buckets resting by your feet. “i’m past due for a bit of charity.”

trepidatious silence led to a bottle of wine which led to too many questions. you were a chatty drunk and he was an especially assertive one. painting walls meant scooping globs of white onto his slacks and then him, dragging it across your shirt. the wine, and even maybe even the fumes, led to wrestling each other into a kiss, tossing your wet and gritty clothing to the floor. it all led to this unruly credence that is the control that carmen had on you. he spent many nights observing how malleable and pliant you were to his needs, to him.

it was dangerous for his ego.

it didn’t take barking an essay of a lecture or a spout of unsavoury words or even a snap of his fingers. it took a look— a simple glare that seethed ‘drop the attitude’. that was the thing about carmy; he didn’t have to rough you around to get his point across, he just liked to. that didn’t mean he wasn’t just as captivating when wallowing in fury— his big, taut arms would cross over his chest. he liked to rub his forehead with his large hands and comb threw his hair with his exceptionally thick fingers and you couldn’t help but soak threw your panties. in fact, it wasn’t a good day until carmy got worked up one way or another. he didn’t think the same of you.

you were too ardent for this kind of work— carmy knew it, richie knew it, the entire kitchen knew it.

“hi boss,” you sniffle at the end of a rather rowdy night. you find support in the doorframe of his office, shoulder smushed against the hardwood as you shot your senior a sad smile. your eyes were red and puffy. it was a wealth of chaos you had to get used to, and everyone had faith that you would.

“let me make it better.” carmy would call it a suggestion, but he was authoritative. your gaze was stupefied and watery with sweet, desperate tears. your head bobbed up and down sprightly.

“c’mon, big girl. use your words. we talked about this.”

“please, carm. make it better.”

he had you hoisted up onto his desk in no time, grip brawny on the undersides of your thighs, his weight heavy between your legs.

the ripple of his bicep each time he bullied his thick fingers into your slick walls went unmistaken by the tightness of his stark white t-shirt. you let out a long whine. carmen tuts, “you’re such a crybaby.”

his tongue was like molten, tracing the pulse of your neck, leaving behind a trail of his wet saliva. “s’okay, baby. you did such a good job today. i’m so proud of you.” the scent of mint chewing gum, cooking oil and cigarette smoke makes your brain short circuit, sputtering out helpless moans and whines. the sound was accompanied by of the tune of the desk being shoved into the weak drywall, cunt taking the brunt of abuse from his fist.

“repeat after me, m’kay?” his skilled and scarred fingers were stretching you wide. he didn’t have to fight to keep you still or use his weight to manoeuvre your legs open like he usually did— you welcomed the crippling pleasure you’d usually fight off and it made carmen practically shiver in realization. you finally learned how to take it like a good whore, he thought.

your boss dragged his nimble fingers in and out— gently tracing and prodding at the leaking hole. “i’m a good girl.”

[toskarin]

just because I'm thinking about it, here's one of those periodic posts where I list off a few random youtube channel recommendations I've been enjoying lately (or have been enjoying long-term (or for any length of time really))

Masaru. - I like fishing. but I can't do it at the moment. Masaru also likes to fish. he free dives, he brings a fish up, he cooks the fish, then he says how it tastes. sometimes it is an unusual fish. sometimes it tastes good. sometimes it tastes wretched. he will tell you. this singlehandedly solves basically every single complaint I have with most cooking/fishing channels. this is cocomelon to me

MIQ(MIO) - it's MIQ! one of the strongest anison vocalists of... well, basically ever. it's her official channel! she uploads concert recordings, karaoke advice for her own songs, and general updates on what she's doing here. I'm always aghast when I see how low her viewcounts are, given that she's an industry legend who's been going strong for over 40 years.

bellykelly - vinyl collector, uploading some really good cuts that you'd be hard-pressed to find anywhere else. one of those channels where I'm always up to date on uploads, and when I fall behind, I just playlist it all to catch up

Xerxes Vinyl Classics - vinyl collector, hasn't upload in a while, but has lots of older releases and remix pressings that are otherwise pretty rare. has some of the higher quality recordings of cantopop releases that are otherwise a little difficult to listen to in acceptable quality

Zuka Zhvania - music-enjoyer and song-uploader with a VERY frequent upload schedule. he's (as far as I know) not an official promoter or anything, but he's pretty damned good at keeping the tunes coming. if you're looking for someone to set you on some obscure industrial and house cuts, check out this channel

LIVING ONLY RECORDS - official channel for a doujin label with some absolutely fantastic noise rock, punk, and shoegaze bands on it. it's my understanding that this is less of "a record label" and more of a way for 群青リボン and friends to book out live houses together while selling merch at one table. which is a pretty noble cause

Someone45356 - probably laying pretty safe claim to the title of "most genre-firsts in the touhou doujin scene," Someone45356 is a strong recommend just for the level of care they put into their arrangements. I love their video thumbnails and their arrangement notes in the video description. a great channel at any level of musical interest (but an ESPECIALLY good channel if you're also a musician)

UPROAR24 - sick and tired of plguin and samplepack demo videos that are 75% ad copy by volume and still don't manage to show you the stupid thing in action? tired of looking at questionably-useful free vsts and not being able to tell whether you're even comfortable having that rubbish on your pc? UPROAR24 runs a channel that's pretty explicitly a reaction to this, making dodgy demos of dodgier plugins. works lovely as a catalogue to browse when you're looking for a new toy

USUDA - the pillar of the Armored Core fan community, USUDA has arranged more Armored Core music than anyone else short of actual FromSoft staff. he also releases his music for free download, including his midi arrangements. very friendly guy in all the interactions I've seen, and also pretty good at remembering people he's seen in other comment sections. I'd honestly shoot him a message first if I had any questions about arranging songs from these games lol

Ricardo Cruz - if you've listened to any portugese (br) covers of anison, you've heard Ricardo Cruz. even if you only listen to originals, there's still a pretty fucking solid chance you've heard him, because he's a JAM Project contributor. absolutely wonderful channel if you like watching skilful singers duet with other powerhouses

Saint Mauve - the best Hellsinker channel on youtube, which isn't an especially competitive title. but I think Saint Mauve would probably still be the best Hellsinker channel on youtube even if there were more than like three. my qualifier for when I've found something weird in the Hellsinker periphery is when I haven't seen Saint Mauve post about it. also plays other (often HS-adjacent) doujin stg and has good opinions on them

Tom Green - this is a weird recommendation but if you don't intuitively understand the appeal of a now-early-50s Tom Green calmly talking about his farm animals and riding around on a horse for hours at a time, I'm really not sure I can sell you on it. oddly calming

mercurytower - this channel is run by Asa, the musician behind Souvenirs to Forget. before they started releasing their original work, this was mostly used to upload guitar covers (which are good, but guitar covers aren't really enough to make me give a glowing recommendation of a channel). Souvenirs to Forget is a really exciting solo project and one I'm personally keeping an eye on. naturally, they upload their releases to this channel

Trance Classics - vinyl collector, records videos to go with the music, focuses more or less entirely on trance. I've got no excuse here. I just fucking love trance and always have, so you can pander to me really easily by just making a channel like this. if you like trance, it has hours and hours of trance

SJ HanStone Lee - the early-gen Mabinogi composer, among a lot of other things. it's been a while since he's posted anything new on this channel, but I check in every now and again. by my reckoning, one of the best mmo composers (and honestly one of the best game composers in general) of the past two decades. there's some stuff on here and his soundcloud that serves as wink-wink-nudge-nudge loveletters to his time working on the early Mabinogi soundtrack

[porcelainseashore]

Ghosts from the Past (5)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Agent! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Informant! Fem! Reader

Summary: 7 years after leaving behind everything you’ve known, you’re suddenly thrust into facing a ghost from your past, Leon. Navigating where you stand with him brings up old memories, painful truths and countless questions. At the same time, you have to deal with a bunch of strange occurrences at your dance company. Set after Resident Evil 4 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Alcohol, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Canon-Typical Horror and Violence, Blood, Injury, Torture, Infection, Medical Experiments, Psychological Trauma, Nightmares

Content: Post-Resident Evil 4, Exes to Lovers, Partners to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, Romance, Fluff

Author's Note: Smut content warning applies in this chapter. Leon and Reader have been dancing around each other long enough!

AO3 Link

Chapter 5: Unravel

You led Ada through the back entrance, where the staff and stage crew usually entered. It was locked as there was no performance today, but she had acquired the key, thanks to you. The door creaked open as you shuffled inside, welcomed only by the stagnant air and the warm rays of early afternoon light pouring into the musty rooms.

It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Weird. Even though it was an unofficial rest day, there would usually be a cleaner roaming the hallways or a dancer rehearsing in the studio.

As you followed the route you had memorized by heart, you noticed that Ada also seemed to know her way around the place. You felt her steps matching yours, anticipating right and left turns before they happened. At the first false wall, she surprised you by pulling on the lever hidden behind an ornamental vase.

“If you already know where to go, why am I even here?” You questioned suspiciously, as you continued down the secret passageway.

“Let’s say I like to cover all bases.” She gave you a cryptic smile. “To get what I really want.”

“Great,” you grumbled. “Another evasive one.”

She huffed, finding humor in your complaint. “Pity Silje doesn't know her favorite protégé is working against her.”

Was that a veiled threat? You swallowed hard as guilt seeped into your chest. This wasn’t how it was meant to be. You weren’t supposed to face Silje like this; you wouldn’t know how to look her in the eye after what you had done.

Ada noticed your hesitance. “Or are you having second thoughts?”

Your simmering anger had become palpable, but you held your tongue and looked away. She was just trying to get you to crack, you inwardly rationalized.

As you went from room to room, the labyrinthine pathways blended seamlessly into one another, as if you were going through the same sections again and again in circles. The only change was that the time it took to pass through the distance between them seemed to increase each round. It was like the space was growing from within, even though it was physically impossible. You assumed it was an illusory effect. Whichever architect who had designed this was a genius.

It was at this point where you witnessed a subtle change in Ada’s behavior. Her eyes darted around more frequently than usual, and every now and then, her lips pursed lightly, as if she were becoming agitated by the maze, and this wasn't what she had expected. Despite her poker face, perhaps she didn’t know her way around entirely after all.

When she paused to examine some markings on a wall, you seized the opportunity presented by her distraction to jam your hands into your back pocket. The zip ties cut into your wrists, but you finally managed to reach for the Swiss Army knife, flicking it open. 

However, nothing could escape her watch, not to mention her lightning reflexes. Just as you were about to use it to break free, she knocked the knife out of your hands with ease. It clattered onto the ground, as you looked on defeatedly. You braced yourself for some sort of punishment to be dished out, but it never came.

“Bold,” she smirked. “Quite the rebel, aren’t you?”

It almost came across like she was impressed. Or was she mocking your feeble attempt at escaping?

“You know, we are more alike than you think,” she suggested. “Maybe that’s why he saw something in you.”

You glared at her in repugnance. There was no way in hell the two of you were even remotely similar, and that was not why Leon had loved you in the first place. At least that’s what you told yourself. 

“I would never be like you,” you seethed.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” she responded nonchalantly. “Especially when given the right motivations.”

Your exchange was cut short, however, when from a distance, you heard hurried footsteps and heavy breathing. Ada quickly yanked you aside to hide behind a wall, covering your mouth with her gloved hand. As the footsteps drew closer, they slowed down. From the sound of delicate metal scraping against the floor, it seemed someone had discovered the knife you had left there. Shit, would you be caught now?

A split second later, you heard your name being called. Leon! He had come for you like he had said. Your cries in response were muffled by Ada’s grip tightening around your mouth, as she pulled you further away into the labyrinth, but her movements were slowed by your resistance. It was only a matter of time until Leon caught up.

“Give it up, Ada.”

He had his handgun aimed at her as she whipped around to face him. Although she no longer tried to dampen your voice, she still kept you in an ironclad hold, with no intention of letting go any time soon. Her words were coated with frustration. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“That’s not exactly in my dictionary.” He leaned in, focusing his laser sight to improve accuracy.

“You wouldn’t shoot me,” she asserted unwaveringly.

His expression faltered briefly, as if he were experiencing a strong case of déja vù, but he steeled himself again. “Test my patience and I just might.”

You felt Ada’s grasp on you shift. Oh, she was getting unnerved alright, and it felt like you had just entered unwittingly into an ex-lovers’ spat. 

As you took in the sight of the room you were in, that’s when you recognized something from your memory: a trapdoor. You were coincidentally standing right above it on the carpeted floor, though you weren’t sure where it led to. In your quick assessment, it was a choice between this never-ending standoff and taking a chance by using the trapdoor as a distraction. You knew where the switch was. You just had to time it correctly.

During a pause in their heated discussion, you established eye contact with Leon. Synchronously, you inched your foot out, pressing it against the camouflaged wooden piece lying at the side, while yelling at him to take notice. In that instant, you and Ada whooshed through the opened door, tumbling into an obsidian pit, past a bunch of rocks with a faint, iridescent glow. You heard Ada’s gasp as she fiddled with her grapple gun, but the surfaces were too slippery to hook onto. It was a miracle that you managed to catch her by surprise.

You couldn’t tell how far down you were going. However, your fall soon ended with a thud on what resembled soft, black mud. Your body felt bruised and battered, but at least nothing was broken. From a shrill shriek that was emitted, you realized Ada hadn’t fared so well.

As your eyes adjusted to the dimness of your surroundings, you saw her lying on the ground, clutching at a sharp rock that had embedded itself within her leg. A loud yelp ripped through the air, as she pried out the object, causing streams of blood to ooze down the open gash. At that moment, another figure landed in, grunting as he broke his fall with cat-like grace.

A bright beam from his flashlight illuminated the area as Leon got up, dusting himself off. The key card, having come loose from Ada’s possession in the fall, lay between the two of you. Without a second thought, he nabbed it, barely casting a quick glance over his shoulder at her before heading towards you.

“You ok?” He asked, his voice laced with worry, as he cut off the zip tie. Wrapping an arm under your shoulders and around your waist, he lifted you to your feet.

“Yeah, just dazed,” you coughed out, rubbing the sore abrasions on your wrists while looking around. 

“What about-” You stopped yourself as you observed the empty space behind him, where Ada had been just a minute ago. “She’s gone.”

He spun around in the direction you were staring at. “It’s what she does, I guess.” He shrugged, as if the same scene had repeated itself one too many times before.

However, his tone changed when he turned back to you, grabbing the lapel of your coat with a severe look in his eyes. “Don’t ever do that again!”

“What, you had a better idea than squabbling with your ex?” Your defensiveness kicked in at his scolding, and you pushed him off roughly.

“She’s not my- ugh!” He groaned, smacking his palm against his forehead. “Let’s just get out of here. I need to keep you safe.”

You bowed your head in agreement, deciding it was best not to go any further down the rabbit hole. Walking along beside him, both of you searched for a way to escape this uncanny underground place. The walls were covered in jagged rocks caked in a dark, greasy substance that glistened in the light, and the air was damp, causing drops of moisture to drip down from above. Occasionally, you heard small creatures scurrying around, but otherwise, everything else was as still as a dormouse.

“Do you think they’re growing something here?” You pointed at the wet matter leaking from the surfaces.

“I hope not,” Leon sighed. “Because this would be a lot more than we bargained for.”

He scraped a sample of it into a compact container, which came with a mini spatula similar to those found in laboratories, before placing it back into a pocket of his tactical pants.

Then, you heard a series of clunks coming from the corner, causing you to jump in fright. “What was that?” 

He shone his flashlight towards the source and you saw a lone rope ladder swaying in the darkness. Its wooden cross beams were hitting the side of the wall, but there was no one on it.

“Hm.” He cracked a weak smile, shaking his head, like someone had eluded him in a game of hide-and-seek. “Our way out.”

Just as you neared the ladder, you felt a dull, throbbing ache spread throughout your head, causing you to come to a halt and clasp the wall to steady yourself. A child’s voice called your name from a distance, reverberating within your skull. As it faded away, you found Leon holding you with a distressed look on his face. “What’s going on? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine…” You shuddered, trying to get rid of that bizarre sensation you had felt earlier. “This place just gives me the creeps,” you reasoned.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he gave you another once-over before continuing. He helped you onto the ladder first, so that he could support you from behind in case anything happened. You began your ascent and noticed that the air became drier the higher you climbed. 

Shortly after, you pulled yourself up into a dead-end tunnel with a hatch on its low ceiling. Leon lifted it open, looking around before giving you the all-clear. You were now in an unassuming storage room in the upper levels of the labyrinth. Just beyond that was the theater space.

“Huh. Guess this needs to be added to the blueprint,” you muttered.

There was some commotion going on outside of the room you were in. Looks like the people were back. Leon brought a finger to his lips to hush you, as he crouched and withdrew his gun from his holster. Opening the door quietly, he peeked through the narrow slit and waited until the noise subsided, before beckoning you to follow him. You assumed a similar stealthy position and sneaked out of the building.

When you were finally back out on the streets, the evening sky and crisp, wintry air greeted you. He led you to a stylish black motorcycle parked a few blocks away. Since when had he learnt how to ride one of these things?

“Courtesy of Hunnigan,” he explained, when he spotted your raised eyebrow. “Took a while. Red tape and all that.” 

Bergmann, of course.

“Here’s the plan,” he began. “We’ll grab your stuff and then head to my place. I’ll watch over you until we can get you back to HQ tomorrow.”

“HQ?” You asked out of confusion.

“DC.”

“I know… but why?”

You weren’t told about any of this in advance and once again, you had more questions than answers. 

“Trust me, it’ll be safer there while I finish this. I don’t want things to blow up, but you never know,” he clarified.

“Did Bergmann greenlight this?”

“No, we did.”

How did he manage to bypass your handler’s authority? You imagined her hitting the roof when she found out.

“And after what we saw down there, we need to get you screened. It’s part of the protocol,” he continued, before adding softly, “I’ll make sure they treat you well.”

“I-” You paused, trying to formulate an appropriate response to the information you had just been overloaded with. “You’re expecting me to leave everything behind?”

“Just temporarily, until the dust settles,” he reassured you. “Unless…” He trailed off, interrupting himself before he could complete the sentence.

“Unless?” You questioned.

“Never mind.” He handed you a spare helmet, gesturing for you to take the back seat. “Let’s go.”

As the engine revved to life, he turned to face you, and you swore you could make out his shit-eating grin behind the tinted visor of his helmet. “Hang on tight.”

Gingerly, you wrapped your arms around his waist, as he drove off into the night.

��━━━━━━━━━━

It didn't take long for you to pack your belongings, or rather, the bare essentials. You had never really accumulated much over the years. Nevertheless, there was a strange, almost surreal feeling in bidding farewell to your apartment for an indefinite period of time.

Upon reaching his place, Leon conducted a perimeter check and adjusted the security settings before allowing you to settle in.

“What if Ada comes back for the card?” You asked in passing.

“Doubt it,” he stated rather matter-of-factly. “She’ll need time to lick her wounds.”

“Right.” 

After all the muck you had been dragged through, you decided to busy yourself by cleaning up in the bathroom. As you showered, it began to dawn on you that the grazes you had on your wrists from the zip tie was gone, and even though you were pretty certain that your ribs had been bruised from the fall, they were nowhere to be seen. Everything looked as immaculate as ever. Were you going crazy and imagining things? You chalked it up to the exceptional amount of stress you had been through in the last 24 hours.

Changing into your night slip, you made your way towards the living room while towel drying your hair. That’s when you caught sight of Leon holding the framed photo of the two of you during your college graduation, staring at it, seemingly oblivious that you were standing at the entrance in the hallway. He must have seen it when your backpack was left open while you were in the bathroom, but that didn’t give him the right to touch your stuff, especially when it started to stir up unwanted emotions within you.

“You still kept it, after all these years…”

Looks like he had been aware of your presence after all.

You didn’t respond, striding purposefully into the room, as you snatched the frame from him and chucked it back into your bag. “I should have just left it to rot,” you muttered out of spite.

“You don’t mean that.” Moving towards you, he curled his fingers under your chin, and tilted it to face him. “Here, you dropped something.” He took the Swiss Army knife out from his pocket and offered it to you.

But you remained motionless. “Keep it,” your voice quivered. 

It’s just better this way. His remark from the bar about a week ago resounded in your ears.

Upon your rejection, his visage crumbled and gradually, you witnessed his cool, confident facade peel away to reveal something broken underneath. He appeared extremely worn down, as though he had been through a war zone. Blood and grime stained his shirt, and a purplish bruise was blooming on the side of his cheek.

“I’m tired. Just so tired…” he admitted under his breath, placing the knife on the table beside him. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?” You wondered out loud.

“Push you away,” he whispered.

You didn’t know what to make of his response. It was an answer, yet not exactly one. And that was driving you insane. So, you argued back with the only piece of information you had, even though you knew it was a low blow. “Yeah, well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you brought Ada into the picture.”

Furrowing his brows in agitation, he let out a heavy sigh and exclaimed, “It’s not about Ada! It’s about you!”

This was the first time you had seen him so riled up, but his rage was infectious, and you used the energy to fight fire with fire. “Fuck you, Leon! Stop bullshitting me!” You shouted back. “I’m sick of you hiding things!”

“Ok, fine. No more secrets,” he conceded, understanding that you weren’t going to let him off this time. Not unless he wanted to lose you again for real. With this in mind, he decided to tell you what you wanted to know, despite the pain it would cause you.

“Ada and I… it happened in Raccoon City.”

Raccoon City? A searing fury took hold over you, as you realized what that meant.

“You moved on to her the day you left,” you mouthed in disbelief. “And I was the idiot who waited and grieved for you.”

Pointing at him accusingly, you sneered, “The best part about it is you weren’t even dead! You just didn’t care!”

At this, he slammed his fist on the table, raising his voice over yours. “That’s a goddamn lie and you know that!”

His face was red with indignation as he insisted, “I care… I’ve always cared.”

You scoffed and turned away from him, your eyes burning and watery, even though deep down you knew he was telling the truth. “Then, explain it to me!”

He was shaking. You couldn’t tell if it was due to fear or anger. “After you and I broke up, I just wanted someone who would understand what I had been through.”

A lump formed in his throat as he continued. “She saved my life a couple of times. And we… uh, we kissed.”

He looked at you with regret, simultaneously attempting to gauge your reaction to what he had divulged. But you stonewalled him.

“Yeah, I liked her. And in a way, I still do care for her, I guess,” he confessed. “But she wasn’t the person I thought she was. I don’t think she’ll ever be that person.”

“You can’t get over her, can you?” You stated bitterly.

“Already have,” he declared. “For a while now.”

“I don’t know how to trust you.” You wanted to, so badly. But after the emotional rollercoaster he had put you through, you were at a loss.

His eyes filled up in despair. It was as if your words had winded him and stabbed him in the gut.

“What I said after the club… it was out of guilt, and I didn’t want to get too close.” He paused for a moment to recollect himself. “I just- I… needed to protect you.”

“From what?” You quizzed. Is that why he didn’t come back? 

He sucked in a deep breath, like what he was about to relay was something he would rather forget. “Raccoon City - it was hell.” He twisted his mouth in distaste. “Like Terragrigia… and the government covered it all up.”

You watched as his eyes glazed over, replaying the trauma he had suffered as if it were an old film loop. “Everyone died around me. I-I couldn’t do shit.” 

A cynical laugh escaped him. “Some fucking cop I was.”

You began to understand why he had been so quiet about his past. The torment he had been putting himself through, the survivor’s guilt, the ravaged city, and the injustice of it all haunted him incessantly.

Instinctively, you took a couple of steps towards him, wanting to close the distance somehow, even though you were afraid of getting burnt again.

His features softened as he saw you draw nearer, though it transformed into a frown when he relived through another set of memories. “They made me work for them, because I knew too much, and-”

He paused, biting his tongue in an effort to restrain his anger. “In exchange for the life of a little girl.”

But his temper soon flared up again. “Those bastards dangled her like a fucking carrot in front of my face! What was I supposed to do?”

You flinched at his outburst and he eyed you apologetically, dropping his head in shame. “I didn’t know who I could turn to. I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

“Leon…” You reached out, ghosting your fingers along the side of his arm.

He didn’t pull away this time, but he couldn’t bear to look at you, afraid of what you might think of him. “Not a day goes by where I don’t feel like it should’ve been me who died down there.”

“I thought about ending it,” he continued. “But you wanted me to remember I am a good person. That I would do the right thing. And I knew it was to keep going.”

You didn’t judge him. You accepted him as how he was, including all the pain and flaws. In front of you was the boy you had left behind 7 years ago - scared, helpless and alone. And so, you took the plunge, gathering him into your arms as you comforted him.

“Leon, it’s ok.” He leaned into your embrace like he had been starved of contact for a long time. “I’m here. You’re ok,” you reassured him.

“I didn’t want to drag you into this, but they got to you anyway,” he sighed into your hair, cradling your waist firmly against him, as though he was unwilling to let you go.

“Every night, I dream of you… dying,” he choked. “And I can’t- I… can’t save you.”

You should have seen this coming: him not wanting you to get involved, pushing you away, and his whole savior complex - just to protect you from the inevitable. As for Ada, you would never be able to change how he felt about her. Yet, in a way, you understood why he chose you in the end. And maybe, for now, that was enough.

“You don’t have to bear this burden on your own, you know,” you mentioned, caressing the back of his head tenderly.

“I’m a fucking mess, you deserve-”

God, he could be so stubborn sometimes. “Leon,” you interrupted. 

Cupping the sides of his face in your hands, you looked him straight in the eye. “I chose this life, ok? And I’m choosing right here, right now, that I want to be with you. To hell and back.”

His gaze widened as he took in what you said. “Like you promised.”

A wave of nostalgia washed over you, as a distant memory from your teenage years flooded your mind, transporting you back to the bleachers of your high school football field. Both of you had sat there together in the dead of winter, and you told him that you would be there for him. To hell and back.

You smiled wistfully. “Yeah, like I promised, dumbass.”

With that, he pressed his lips against yours fervently, devouring your mouth in a stream of torrid kisses, wet and sloppy, like he was trying to make up for lost time. Pushing you up against the nearest wall, he teased your lips with his tongue and you parted them, allowing him easy entrance as you let out a soft, heady moan. He deepened the kiss, swirling his tongue against yours fiercely, unable to get enough of you.

“Fuck, baby, I missed you,” he murmured breathlessly when he came up for air amid the waves of kisses. 

Baby. You shivered in pleasure, hearing his pet name for you for the first time after years of being apart. “I missed you too.”

“Please, let me take care of you,” he pleaded, securing a hand on your hip, as he slowly reached the other under your night slip, trailing it up your inner thigh, between your legs.

As you felt his fingertips brush against your clit through your underwear, you ground your hips forward subconsciously, desperate for his touch. Both of you were diving in headfirst even though things were still raw, but something about this felt right and you didn’t want to wait anymore. You claimed his lips again briefly, before encouraging him to go further.

Dragging his wet tongue along your neck and down across your body, he knelt in front of you, bunching up the hem of your slip and hooking his fingers into the side of your underwear to strip it off. You closed your eyes as you felt his hot breath against your pussy, gasping as he ran his tongue through your glistening folds, lapping and sucking it eagerly.

“Mm… I could never get tired of how you taste,” he groaned huskily, before tracing circles with his tongue on your clit.

You chewed on your bottom lip, a smile breaking out at his compliment, as you recalled how vocal he - and you - could be during sex. He spread your legs wider and hiked one of them over his shoulder for better access, dipping his tongue into your slit, as your juices and his saliva trickled down your thighs. Tangling your hands in his hair, you gave in to the tingling sensations that rippled through your body.

He continued thrusting his tongue into you relentlessly, while stroking your clit with his thumb. “Shit, oh god-” you whined, grasping frantically at the wall behind you. “That feels so good.”

Burying his face further into your mound, he tried to bring you closer to the edge, as you felt a familiar knot in your belly tightening with every lick, suck and kiss. You bucked your hips, riding his face feverishly as you chased after your orgasm. Soon, it came crashing down, and you arched your back off the wall, wailing in rapture, while your thighs clenched around his head. 

The high melded into a feeling of warm, viscous honey, as he caught you in an embrace when you slumped over, dizzy and panting.

“I got you, baby,” he cooed, rubbing your back soothingly, as he held you up. “That’s it.”

His pillowy lips, moist with your arousal, captured yours in a tender kiss. When he broke away, you nuzzled his neck gratefully, part of you still contemplating if this was real.

“I don’t want to let you go,” your voice came out muffled, as you burrowed yourself deeper into his neck, inhaling the scent of his cologne and sweat. Despite the blood and dirt, he smelled as you remembered him, of fresh citrus and musk, with a hint of cedar.

“You have me,” he promised, planting another delicate kiss on your cheek, soft like raindrops on a rose petal in the morning. “Always.”

You locked eyes with him, drowning in the pool of his blue irises, which were burning with desire for more. Scooping you up into his strong arms, he carried you out, past the hallway to the bedroom and placed you down on the mattress. He tugged off his clothes before helping you out of your slip, casually discarding it onto the floor.

His breath hitched as he admired the way you lay there, naked and wanting, completely vulnerable for him. Crawling on top of you, he bent down, leaving a string of open mouthed kisses from your neck to your breast. 

“So beautiful,” he hummed, flicking his tongue against your nipple, before taking it into his mouth and suckling it. Letting it go with a pop, he claimed, “You haven’t changed one bit.”

“Mm, neither have you.”

His huff turned into a low moan as you wrapped your fingers around his fully erect cock, the tip red with need and leaking of precum. You pumped its shaft languidly as he rutted into your fist, growing impatient to feel more of you.

“Fuck- I want to be inside of you,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

You nodded, grazing your fingers against his lips as he slipped them into his mouth, sucking on them hard. The next instant, he flipped you over, sitting on his knees behind you as he splayed your legs on either side of him, pulling your back flush against his chest. He held your hip in one hand while using his other to guide his cock towards your entrance. You whimpered as you sank down onto him, a raw burst of pleasure flooding your brain as he filled you up. Nestled in his lap, you fit him perfectly like a glove.

He gave you a moment to adjust to the intrusion before setting a slow, sensual pace, stretching you out deeply with each thrust. You rocked your hips back into him, like a bitch in heat, unable to control the lewd sounds that came from your throat.

Squeezing your breasts, he rose to his knees, lifting you up along with him, as he picked up the speed. He nipped at your neck, licking and sucking on it to mark you as his. You could already feel a red welt forming on its surface.

“You like that?” He asked.

“Ah- yes! Please, Leon,” you gasped, trembling as you moved in sync to his rhythm more vigorously.

He chuckled at your reaction, “Only I can make you feel this good, huh?”

“Yes,” you professed, surrendering yourself entirely. “Only you.”

Upon hearing your admission, he growled with lust and fucked up into you harder. “Look at you,” he whispered in your ear, turning you in the direction of the wardrobe mirror that faced the bed. “Taking me so well.”

Through half-lidded eyes, you saw yourself, almost unrecognizable, in the reflection. Your face was flushed, body slick with sweat, and your nipples were hard and swollen from his teasing. A rosy hue had spread across your ass from his thrusting. 

He was amping up the dirty talk. But it only served to turn you on even more. 

In the heat of the moment, you rasped, “Ruin me.” 

You felt his cock twitch inside of you as soon as you uttered it. Craning your neck to meet his gaze, you asserted, “Make me so no one else will ever want me.”

God, where was all that filth coming from? You even surprised yourself.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he cursed loudly. His eyes reflected a voracious look of hunger that seemed to consume the very space between you. “You’re gonna make me cum like this, baby.”

He brought a hand up to your throat, straightening you out against him even further as he slammed his cock roughly into your pussy. Wet slaps filled the room, his balls hitting against your clit repeatedly, while you clung tightly to his grip. You tilted your head backwards, resting it against his shoulder as you cried, “Yes, yes, oh fuck- Leon!”

Suddenly, he pulled out of you and threw you onto your back, causing you to whine from the loss of contact. He hoisted your ankles over his shoulders, giving them a quick kiss before leaning his weight onto you and folding your knees to your chest.

You let out a strangled cry as he penetrated you from this new angle, stimulating the sensitive spot along the walls of your aching cunt. “God, you’re so fucking good for me,” he grunted through labored breaths, already feeling himself coming close.

“Don’t stop,” you begged, clawing at his wrists which caged you in beside your head.

He railed you mercilessly into the mattress, causing the headboard to bang against the bedroom wall with each sharp thrust. It felt as if he was releasing all his pent-up emotion and compensating for every moment he had spent without you in the past.

As you reached your climax, your walls tightened around his cock and your eyes rolled back, while you screamed his name in ecstasy. All you could see was a blinding white light, with every muscle in your body tensing and your toes curling in response, as he rode you through it.

The sight of you tipped him over the edge and his pace stuttered. His face twisted in pleasure as he called out your name over and over, spurting thick ropes of his hot seed into your cunt. He continued to roll his hips forward gently in waves, taking a while to come down from his high. 

Caressing your cheek affectionately, he placed a lingering kiss on your lips, before pulling out of you and dropping to your side. A mixture of both of your fluids stained his pelvis and your thighs as proof of what had transpired. It dripped onto the sheets like a bleeding sign.

As you listened to each other’s heartbeats and breathing in the calm silence, Leon took your hand in his, interlacing your fingers together.

“Stay with me,” he proposed again, wiping the slate clean of your rejection 7 years ago.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you turned towards him, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. It was at that moment you observed a distinct, indented scar adorning his left shoulder, serving as a ragged reminder of a past ordeal. You traced the outline of it with your fingers, while he held your hand close and kissed the white of your knuckles.

“I still love you,” he affirmed.

You knew that tonight wasn't the sole solution to all the problems you still had to work through together. But it was a start, and you were willing to give it another shot.

This time, it can be different. You covered his hands in yours, bringing them to your lips, as you spoke, “I’ll stay.”

[averytirednerd]

About Episodes 7 and 8...MASSIVE SPOILERS!!

Initial thoughts (because if I talk about EVERYTHING right now you'll be here for at least half an hour)...

WHAT THE HELL?!

I mean I loved getting to watch the season finale, don't get me wrong. But I have just as many grievances as things I loved about it and also SO MUCH happened?!?!?!

Charlie: Loved getting to see her be all demon-y, I've been waiting all season. Also loved her and the cannibals (especially Rosie!!!). So glad she got to work w/ Luci to protect the hotel <333 She and Vaggie are adorable too.

Vaggie: I really enjoyed watching her and Carmilla's song, that was cool. Protecting her girlfriend, very cute. I liked seeing her and Lute have that little face-off.

Husk: Sad that we didn't get to see much of him, but I get it. His interactions with the others were sweet (especially Angel). I loved the one line he got to sing on his own in that last song of episode 8. 😍

Angel: Ngl I am very glad he wasn't the one to die. It would've been a fun little "oh crap" moment but I really didn't want to be right. He's still got business down there. His interactions with the others here are everything to me, and he's just grown so much and aaaaaa. It's lovely to see! I love him more and more with every episode.

Niffty: YOU GO, GIRL!!!! Love to see the stabbing. I also really loved the...one line Nifty got. Kimiko Glenn's voice is a gift, I freaked out over getting to hear one line. Anyway. not much else to say other than I definitely thought it was Alastor doing a big "oh look, I'm alive!" thing when Adam got stabbed, but I was pleasantly surprised.

Cherri Bomb/Sir P: I was surprised, to say the least, when Cherri and Sir P had that little moment. Glad they got it before he went and DIED. Cherri is such a good friend to Angel and she's great. Now, onto Sir P...WOW, OKAY. Glad we know Charlie's plan isn't completely stupid. Wonder how Sera's gonna react to him being there now, lol.

The Vees: FIRST OFF, VOX?????? "This is better than sex!" 💀💀💀 Truly was not expecting to see as much of the Vees as we did. Not complaining though. It was...interesting...to say the least, watching Vox get as excited as he did over the prospect of Al dying (still as obsessed as ever, fr). Not at all surprised to see Val and Vox have a thing going, I figured from the interactions we've seen so far. Them dancing together was silly, them practically making out was less so 😃. Also, gotta continue the love for Velvette--putting up with these two idiots must take a lot. Also also, her HAIR! HER HAIR!! EEEEE

Lucifer: I reallllyyyyyy enjoyed seeing Luci make a return to help Charlie, even if it was in one of those "last-minute saves" that I usually hate. Idk, makes sense here I guess because he's probably always watching over Charlie some way. ALSO LUCI AND CHARLIE GOING ALL DEMON-Y TOGETHER WAS <33333333 I really loved him starting off that last song in episode 8, and telling Charlie that he believes in her. It was so sweet. I love Luci sm, hoping he becomes a more integral part of the crew in s2.

Adam/Lute/Lilith: HAHA HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LOSE??? Lute got what she deserved with the whole...arm thing. ALSO WHAT--JUST GONNA CASUALLY DROP LILITH IN HERE NOW? Sure, fine, whatever, totally cool. Not sure how to feel about Lilith atm so moving on. I dunno why I was so shocked upon seeing Adam's face. I guess I expected him to...not look as good as he does? Also so upset that he broke Al's staff. How rude. He sucks.

Rosie: Not how I expected her to sound, but I'm most certainly not disappointed. I don't have much to say other than I loved literally everything about her. No complaints--at least not yet ig, need to go back and rewatch the episodes critically. Her and Alastor is everything to me, and seeing them dance was <333333 I cannot express my excitement over it enough.

Alastor: Saved him for last because yes. If I wasn't limiting myself to a short paragraph for each, I'd be writing a whole essay just about Al, I swear....CANNOT believe what just happened omg. Not only did we get to see silly Al in episode 7, but we got to see scary (and scared) Al in episode 8. He's really freaking out, it's so entertaining! I'm so glad it wasn't him who died, I started getting a bit worried for a minute there....His relationship with Rosie is aaaaa, best of besties fr. Fighting Adam scene was glorious. Making Vox act like an idiot even when not trying was funny to watch (Vox's obsession with this guy is so silly). Him retreating sure was a move, but I'm glad he didn't get all stubborn and end up dying. Him ranting a bit in his section of the final song was so...AAAAAAA. Man is so scared, he looks stressed as can be. I need to see Alastor just have an external breakdown because he honestly feels like he's on the verge of one. 💀

Stopping for now before I go on a bigger rant than I already have. To those who read all this, I'm so sorry pfft. Feel free to leave a comment if there's something you wanna discuss (or, better yet, send one of those ask thingies. I do not have comments figured out yet...)

Anyway, have a good one <3

[tmuse-ac]

How do rose swap! Y/N and Moon meet? How did Y/N meet sun and Eclipse?

What does Y/N think of the Celestial trio?

OH! What a great question and I was in the middle of drawing something that relates to this question when I got this ask, so it's your lucky day! And lucky for me too: STORY TIME and INFO DUMP!

get your tea ready mates, LONG POST!

Out of the three, you meet Moon first when they get hired as a security guard to help Vanessa take care of the place. She immediately signs up Moon to patrol the daycare section, including the main entrance (even though that's technically not part of the daycare), the Daycare Theater, and under it. Vanessa very much finds you annoying because you would follow and talk to her any chance you got since you get bored of cleaning. Moon's take away from his meeting with you is that you remind him of his friends: excitable but sweet. Vanessa doesn't mind if they keep you company as long as Moon's makes sure that you don't bother her. Moon likes talking to you :)

Then time flies a tad and you're finally able to meet Sun! He is able to get a job as your assistant as you and Fazbear Entertainment have been getting many complaints about your uncleanliness as well as your creepy appearance and nature, staring into the abyss while thinking about your new favorite human.

You remember being told a lot of Moon's roommate. Mostly rants about how they never sleep properly because they've been trying to get college work done in and then staying up the rest of the night to clean every spot in their apartment. Moon told you that he hopes by Sun getting this job that they can work on getting a proper schedule.

You were very excited to him so when he arrives on his first day, bright and early at 6 am with Vanessa and Moon guiding him in, you are very quick to give a pleasant hello! Unbeknownst to you, Moon also talked to Sun and Eclipse about you too! Sun was very surprised to find that you are much taller than he thought, and he doesn't know what to think about how that makes him feel. He finds many things you both have in common... and some things that you don't. All around he finds you as a pleasant rock to talk to and be friends with much to your happiness for a new friend and another favorite human!

You're hugger, by the way. You have to make sure Vanessa doesn't catch you since you're technically not allowed to touch staff at all. You were so excited however that you completely forgot Vanessa was one of the people who escorted Sun to meet you and nabbed them up right away. Sun was very surprised but didn't mind too much.

Now onto Eclipse! You meet him much later than the other two as well as during a time when he didn't work for Fazbears. Even though you looked pristine, on the inside you were very messy and ragged. You tried the best you could, but often would forget. Sun and Moon noticed pretty quickly and when trying to bring you to Parts and Service to get fixed, you were quick to decline, run, or hide. They decided to see if you would be up to trust their friend Eclipse, who is a great mechanic and is very close in getting their degree in robotics. You were hesitant but agreed. You were glad you did, because you made another great friend, and they became another one of your favorite humans!

Eclipse definitely finds you interesting because of your AI and all about "human-ness" that Fazbears has been able to create. From a friend standpoint, however, they adore you and took to you much faster than the other two. He also absolutely loves that he can finally look up at someone when talking to them.

Here's something from some point in the nearer future when Fazbears grabs Eclipse up before their rival in the west could.

I hope you enjoyed this info dump because again, I love giving them :)

[tiredmetalenthusiast]

Emotions and promotions (Price x reader)

On a roll with @glitterypirateduck Price challenge! Scenarios used 31. ‘A confrontation takes place’ and 48. ‘A character tries to hide that they are crying or upset’:

Warnings: Cursing, yelling, crying, verbal and physical assault, threats of harm, writer is not very knowledgable on the inner workings of the military.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had entered Price’s office after knocking and receiving the go ahead. He gives you a confused look as you set the folios and papers down on his desk, “Why isn’t the doctor on site bringing me the paperwork? She’s here isn’t she? Could swear I saw her an hour ago.” You tense up as he leans forward, hands folded as he stares at you expecting an answer.

“She was busy with patients. No need to worry Captain.” Not wanting to unload your woes on your captain but judging by his unwavering gaze he isn’t buying it. You shuffle the papers into place nervously and began at the top of the pile, explaining that the soldier in question was injured too badly during his last mission and will require a fair bit of rest. He nods and reads over the paper.

“You know you can talk to me, sergeant.” “Yes I know sir. There’s nothing to talk about.” He signs the paper and places it off to the side face down. “Clearly there is. It’s showing on your face. A couple of recruits have mentioned you and Dr.Alice having a few choice words.” You place another paper in front of him and reads it over, waiting for you to explain. “Just a…misunderstanding, Captain. That’s all.” “A misunderstanding that lead to you mumbling about wanting to put laxatives in her coffee? Interesting.”

”Did she call and make a complaint about me, sir?” He signs off the paper and you hand him another. “No she didn’t, but Soap and Gaz have both mentioned some tension. So tell me about it.” You sighed, eyes welling up a bit and you quickly wipe at them. You go on to explain how she acts, showing off her assets, flirting with the men that come in instead of doing her job, forcing all of her paperwork onto you and making you deliver it. You often have to stay after hours filling out HER reports and have lost sleep, which Ghost had noticed and brought to Price’s attention.

He nods and makes a quick phone call. You briefly hear Ghost’s voice over the line as Price tells him to meet up at the medical ward, explaining the situation. He hangs up after getting a confirmation. He turns back to you and you straighten up, “How qualified are you as a nurse?” “I was a doctor before I joined the service, sir.” “Great, you’re about to get a promotion. Follow me.”

You follow him out the door and within minutes you’re waving to Ghost who waits at the door to the medical ward. He opens the door for Price and you three enter to find Dr.Alice sitting at her desk asleep. Price nods to Ghost who proceeds to yell in his lieutenant voice, thoroughly spooking the woman awake. “O-oh Captain Price! Lieutenant Ghost! H-How can I help you both?”

”You’re being removed from your job. Effective immediately.” Silence hangs in the now charged air. “Excuse me? I’m being what?” Ghost steps in front of Price, “You’re fired. Pack up your shit. You have an hour to get off this base before you are escorted off. Captain’s orders.” “ON WHAT GROUNDS?!” She turns on you, trying your hardest to look small and invisible before she lunges.

”WHAT DID YOU TELL THEM YOU LITTLE BITCH?! ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS YOUR JOB NOT GO OFF AND FUCKING COMPLAIN TO THE CAPTAIN!” Ghost catches her, holding her back from tearing your face off as Price moves you behind himself. “It’s come to our attention that you are, in fact, not doing your job. Making the nurses pull your weight, flirting with the men instead of tending wounds, abusing your nursing staff, and a long list of other things.”

She screams and thrashes against Ghost’s hold before running out of steam. “You have an hour. Ghost make sure she cleans up and leaves.” “Rog.” Price turns to you and holds out his hand, “Congratulations. You’re now the new doctor on base. I expect great things from you sergeant.” You shake his hand, thanking him profusely but before you could follow him out Alice lunges again, taking hold of your hair and pulling you to the ground. 

“SO WHAT YOU WENT AND FUCKED THE CAPTAIN FOR A PROMOTION?! I’LL FUCKIN KILL YOU!” You yell as you struggle to get away from her, her fist making contact with your cheek. “ENOUGH! Ghost, apprehend her!” He grabs Alice, getting an elbow to the gut in the process but manages to remove her from your shaking form, Price helps you up and looks at the bruise forming on your skin. “Now you have assaulting a fellow officer added to your list of reasons. Take her to processing, she’s on the out.” Ghosts nods and leads Alice out the door.

”You broken?” “No, my face just hurts a lot now. Thank you Captain.” Price nods, “Let’s go. You’ve got more than just medical paperwork to do now.” You attempt a laugh but stop at the sting in your cheek, following Price back to his office.