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dotster001 · 1 year

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Hi i don't know, if your requests are still open, if not you can ignore it or do it whenever you want.

Just readed your prompt, when reader suddenly passes out with Vil, Jamil, Floyd and Rook. I was wondering, if you could write something similar for Malleus, Lilia and maybe the teachers Trein and Crewel?

(I'm happy you enjoyed those! And I hope you like these too!)

Part One Part Three

CW:Burnout (obviously), mental breakdown/trauma in Trein's part, spoilers for Vargas training camp in Trein's part, injury in Crewel's part

A/N: I've said this in my pin post, but I age up characters to actual college age, because I am in college, and didn't realize until a few months in the characters were not. Everyone here is. 18+ If it makes you feel more comfortable, imagine this as a grad school situation.

He's been pouting a lot lately. Which for a normal person wouldn't be a problem, but Mal's pouting usually meant that the weather was bad as well. He was pouty, because whenever you had time in your incredibly busy schedule to see him, you still had to be working on your homework. With everything Crowley had you do for the school, you had to share your "dragon time" with your "homework time". But your boyfriend looked very cute pouty, so part of you wasn't too upset about it.

Until the day you were so busy with something that you hadn't eaten or slept in over 24 hours and just…collapsed during dragon/homework time.

Malleus immediately panics. He assumes you have had a heart attack and died (Mal…college students are unlikely to have heart attacks) Once he finds a pulse, and sees your breathing, he scoops you up and teleports to Lilia faster than he has ever teleported.

He's sobbing as he answers Lilia's questions, not entirely certain that this wasn't something he did. Lilia easily is able to figure out what has happened, and goes to make you some soup for when you wake up. Malleus is too relieved to think about the fact that while Lilia's soup will have loads of protein, it might send you into shock. In the meantime, he puts a cool cloth on your forehead, and caresses your cheek.

After you wake up and barely survive the soup Malleus spoon feeds you he tucks you into his massive comfy bed (you can't tell me he doesn't have the fluffiest comforters) and then…vanishes.

From here on out, everytime you get a task from Crowley, it's already finished by the time you get around to it. It's weird, but it means you have time to keep homework separate from "dragon time". Which makes a certain fae very happy.

Lilia has spent years learning how to care for humans, especially since most of them *cough* Silver *cough cough* Y/N are not good at caring for themselves. While his recipes are terrible, he is right in some ways about making sure to get all your nutrients. While it can feel a little patronizing sometimes, he is right that you need sleep. While he is a little unorthodox in how he has fun, he's right that you need to have leisure time and do things you enjoy.

What you don't know is that behind the scenes Lilia has already been having regular arguments with a certain Crow about your workload. When two fae fight, it's never good, but you don't have to worry about what's going on.

Azul and the tweels get called back home out of nowhere, and now you're in charge of all the paperwork that he is usually in charge of handling, both for the lounge and for the other Housewarden's. Lilia sees less and less of his sweet human, and he's suspicious part of it is because you are avoiding him, knowing full well he would make you take a break.

He has to admit, your avoiding skills are actually pretty good. So he's not actually there when you collapse. And he's furious. Especially when he finds out that Crowley also decided to add his own paperwork to your ever growing pile. He only knows you collapsed when he hears some randos gossiping about how "the prefect collapsed running laps today, and the idiot duo had to walk them to the infirmary." He's immediately flying to the infirmary, powered by his pure rage.

He knows it's not your fault, especially since you have nothing to your name in this world, so it's easy to manipulate you into this position. So he does his best not to take his anger out on you as he watches you sip apple juice that the nurse gave you, while you do your best to keep your eyes open. Once he is certain that the nurse has things under control, he kisses your forehead, and asks you if you want him to bring you anything.

While he's out getting you a treat, he makes a stop at a certain Crow's office. From here on out you don't see a lot of him. You are a little worried that Lilia may have killed him, but everytime you ask him, he giggles and messes up your hair, before telling you how silly that is.

He's harder on you than he is on most of his students, partially so that no one can claim favoritism, partially because you are just so far behind in history (having it not be your history) that he has to give you extra work and lessons to catch you up. But as a trade off, he tries to be a step ahead of Crowley whenever he can. There's little that happens in the school that he's unaware of, so he's usually able to protect you from his foolish boss.

Until you get sent to the training camp with the sports clubs to assist Vargas. He's furious about this last minute decision, that Crowley conveniently forgot to tell him about, and he's even more angry when he later finds out that you were "kidnapped" and then immediately had to fight a creature in the mines.

Naturally, your mental health is not so great after the trip. He's starting to see it on your face when you both hang out, and even if he didn't, your work for his class is deteriorating, if you even turn it in at all.

Then you break down one day when he asks you about it. He can't understand a word you're saying as you sob and yell and shake. But he's pretty sure he has the idea. You've been pushed too far. He sends Lucius to fetch a nurse or counselor , or heck he's sure even Sam would have something to help you relax enough to just breathe. In the meantime, he wraps his arms around you and tries to walk you through breathing exercises, while whispering some praises to you that you can't comprehend in this state, but appreciate all the same.

After someone gives you a potion that helps you relax a little, he leaves you to rest on his office couch with Lucius in charge, and he holds a meeting with the rest of that staff about what's not appropriate to put people through. (Essentially it's Crewel and Trein yelling at Vargas and Crowley about trauma and what their job is supposed to be)

This never happens again. You continue to have extra work from Trein, but he always ensures he makes time to help you, or give you a soothing tea if he thinks you're starting to drop back into the bad mental state. If you do, he holds you close, and says nothing, while allowing you to spill whatever is plaguing you.

Prior to him dating you, you had denied his request many times to financially sponsor you. Now that you were together, it was harder to come up with an excuse for him not to. So he'd purchased Ramshackle and renovated it. He'd taken up the expenses for your schooling and food (after much argument he'd also taken up Grim's) and after several discussions about the future of your relationship, he'd begun helping you through the process of becoming a citizen in a world that had no proof of your existence (a pain and a half, but there was nothing he wouldn't do for his beloved pup). In doing all this, he'd made it very clear to the Headmage that he had no hold over you, and therefore couldn't coerce you into anything.

Divus knew he was a fool for leaving you alone for a week. He had assumed that Crowley had nothing on you anymore, and that he could go help a smaller fashion designer that showed a lot of promise get their career off the ground. At first he was only going to be gone for a week, but it quickly turned into two, then three. He should have recognized the tension in your voice when you'd asked him over the phone when he thought he'd be back.

When he finally returned, he thought he'd surprise you by showing up where he knew you'd be hanging out with your friends. He'd bought a ring for you that he was particularly pleased with, and he wanted you to have it as soon as possible. His plan was dashed as he watched you collapse into Howl, who immediately started to panic.

With a clear voice Divus took over the scene, picking you up and carrying you to his office where he had all manner of potions. As he pressed one to your lips, he noticed a cast on your arm. He'd ask about it later.

When you woke up, you wrapped your arms around him, and whispered how much you missed him. He asked what happened, and you tell him how you broke your arm in yet another overblot incudent, and had been working like crazy for Crowley to pay off the medical expenses.

You've never been scared of your lover. But his eyes were practically glowing with rage, and now you were starting to wonder if you should be scared. Divus does not accept cruelty to animals or humans. And, he keeps his receipts. It's not long before there's a pretty hefty case and Dire is removed as headmage for coercion and endangerment. After that, there aren't any more overblot incidents and the students seem more mentally healthy. How about that?

He decides to wait to give you the ring until you're fully recovered after everything. But he's certain when he asks you the question that comes with it, you'll have an answer he likes. Especially when you nuzzle into him so sweetly while you nap in his office.

....

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus draconia x reader #malleus #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge #mozus trein x reader #trein x reader #mozus trein #twst trein #professor trein #twst mozus trein

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curlsincriminology · 4 months

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Crush on You - Steve Harrington x Reader

A/N: Hi yeah, can you tell this was written by someone with ADHD on a plane in 30 minutes? Sure! But it's the first thing I think I've published in 5 years so you're gonna have to just deal with it! Not beta'd because again, first piece in 5 years. Also if you are lactose-intolerant be careful, this shit is CHEESY!!

@boyfriendstevie

Steve was going to maim Robin.

He swore to God right then and there, looking at you with that cute little teasing twinkle in your eye as you said, "so you've got a crush on me, huh?" that he was going to find a way to permanently silence her.

Robin had to be behind this. It had taken all of 12 hours - from him spilling his guts about his debilitating infatuation as he drove her home from work, to you sauntering through the Family Video doors - to get to this moment.

His face felt hot... was he dying? Could he actually be dying? The sound of his heart pounding in his ears made him think he might still have a few more minutes of agony to go before his body mercifully took pity on him and just... y'know. Ended it.

You, on the other hand, were thriving. You were positively giddy, unsure when the last time you had felt solid ground under your feet; you had floated on a cloud (you were sure of it) over to Family Video.

Honestly, it wasn't Robin's fault.

No one in their right mind would tell her something that they didn't want you to find out. Robin had been spilling Hawkins' secrets to you since your family had moved to town.

At first, it was protective - a welcoming to the neighbourhood that helped you to know what cliques to avoid and who was sort of cool. Then it was friendly, to make you feel more at ease that you actually weren't coming off like the idiot you thought you might be.

Now? Now it was downright… messy? Fun? No, definitely mischievous.

Why else would she have rolled up on her bike to your part-time spot, parked behind the desk at the Hawkins Public Library, with that shit-eating grin on her face claiming she had some positively delightful news to tell you?

Either way you didn't care. Because it had brought you here, still in your work getup, absolutely vibrating with the sheer force it was taking you to not be the biggest tease in the world about something that was okay, maybe a little sensitive.

Steve could see the restraint on your face anyway. He knew you wanted to tease him - you were loving this.

He was still contemplating just faking an emergency and leaving. It would have been hard with the way you were leaning over the counter, gripping the side closest to him to keep you supported as you blocked him from passing you. But maybe he could manage it if he put on a good enough show.

You were biting your lip in an attempt to not freak him out with the intensity of your grin. You really just wanted him to admit it.

Standing there, with your body basically draped over the counter, your lip worried between your teeth and your eyebrow raised, Steve thought maybe it wouldn’t be the embarrassment that killed him. Maybe it would just be from how goddamn pretty you were. He had never seen anyone more enchanting than you - he thought there were probably damn hearts in his eyes as he stared at you.

And if he thought about it, maybe you hadn't heard it from Robin... he wasn't exactly subtle when it came to you. He'd definitely tripped over himself, literally, to be the one to grab you a tape you'd requested be put on hold. More than once.

There had also been the time when you had caught him watching you as you perused the shelves, completely ignoring the increasingly frustrated attempts of Mrs Jones to try and get him to check out "Trading Places" for her.

"Steeeeeeeve." The melodic singsong of your voice was enough to bring him back to the present. And to cause him to realize he had just been staring at you, gape-mouthed, for at LEAST 15 uninterrupted seconds.

Yeah, it would be the embarrassment that killed him.

"I- I uh." You watched a muscle bob in Steve's throat as he swallowed hard, nervously running his hand through his hair. "I-"

"Are you always this articulate?" You said with a bat of your eyelashes and he groaned. You were gorgeous and funny and he used to be so much better at this. There's no way he would have fumbled this conversation back in high school.

Then again, you hadn't been at his high school.

Eyes closed he shook his head trying to clear his thoughts and quickly realised that could be interpreted as "no, I am NOT always this articulate which is to say, quite accurately, sometimes I literally can't speak when you talk to me". Steve quickly opened his eyes to stammer out... something. Jesus. He was really killing it.

You remain in your position, leaning on the counter as you wait for him to formulate a coherent thought. And no, you would not give him a reprieve. Not yet.

Because you had been hiding your crush behind teasing comments and little jokes and playful nudges since the second you laid eyes on the man in front of you. Ever the charmer, he would flirt and tease and joke back with you, tit for tat. But sometimes… you could push it, and throw him off his game. You could reduce him to a blushing sputtering mess, and you loved nothing more than to watch him try to process if you were talking a big game or would really walk the walk. You wanted to see if you could get him to finally end this game of chicken.

Steve huffed and let out a tentative laugh. His hand had found its way back to the disheveled strands on his head. "I, uh, I feel like there's no way for me to get out of this."

If Steve hadn't spent the last few months studying your every goddamn facial expression, he would have missed the little narrow you did of your eyes. Almost imperceptible, but he knew you did it when you were processing something and not quite sure where that thought process was taking you. Or what you were going to do.

It seemed like only a fraction of a second before you decided.

"What if," you began, a small almost devilish smile starting to spread across your lips, "I made it easier for you?"

You leaned closer towards Steve, and watched his eyes widen ever so slightly as he looked down at your lips. He licked his own without realising it, following your movements as you leaned closer, closer... and grabbed the sticky pad and pen he'd been doodling on before you had flounced in.

His cheeks warmed and it didn't escape your notice that there was a small flush spreading across Steve's face. Or that he absolutely wanted to kiss you.

You grinned to yourself, pulling the used sticky off and pressing it onto Steve's chest. He glanced down in confusion at the piece of paper stuck in the gap of his vest, his eyes flying back up to meet yours as you beamed. If you left your fingers splayed across his chest a second or two longer than necessary, he didn’t voice any complaints.

Pulling your hand away from Steve’s chest, you curled it over the pad in your other hand, scribbling furiously, while keeping the note’s contents hidden from Steve's curious gaze.

Pleased with yourself, you flipped the pad back towards him on the counter and slid the pen along with it, bumping his hand so that he would take over their possession. His fingers curled over yours briefly, and while you would’ve liked to have kept your hand under his a little longer, you were playing a special game and you weren’t ready for it to be over just yet.

Steve was so focused on your little smirk, and the way your eyes had crinkled when he looked down at your bottom lip, he didn't even register the note when he glanced down at it.

"You can send it along with the town crier if you want." You teasingly gestured out the window to Robin who had just pulled up in front of the store. He struggled to process it all; everything that was you and the note you had slipped across the counter, and he finally looked up again at you, you were partially to the door. A wink thrown back at him as you passed Robin.

"Hey Robs. Bye Steve." He heard a muffled “hello” and “bye” from Robin’s direction in response, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how easy it would have been to capture your lips against his with you as close as you had been. If not that, Christ, he could have at least admitted he couldn’t get you out of his head with you, there, giving him the perfect opportunity.

The chime of the door wasn't enough for him to stop staring after you. In fact, he watched you walk away until he couldn't see you anymore. He was vaguely aware of Robin speaking to him as she buzzed around him, moving things he had left “in the wrong place” and “should have put away already”. He felt her push into her personal space, boundaries long forgotten if they had ever been present at all, as she tapped at his hand.

"Uuuuh Steve? What's that?" Robin asked, her large blue eyes studying him and the object partially hidden by his large palm. He blinked slowly, eyes focusing back on the room in front of him instead of the spot where he had last seen you, turning out of the parking lot.

He could be angry with Robin later he thought, flipping the pad in his hand to read what you had written. He felt the tips of his ears go red as he finally processed the words in your slightly messy scrawl, Robin yammering about something in the background.

It was cute and it was cheesy and he was almost grateful you had left so you didn’t see the big stupid grin that spread across his face. Yeah, he had a crush on you. But you had a crush on him too.

He grabbed the pen and checked “yes”, pulling the note off the pad and shoving it deep in his pocket to get it away from Robin. He could deliver it himself.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #stranger things x reader #jasmine tries to write #curlswithcreativity

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ivy-loves-chocolate · 6 months

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Note: I had to repost this cuz I accidentally deleted the first one lol. Anyway, this is such a cute request, anon! ❤️ I had so much fun writing it, and I hope you'll enjoy it. Lmk if you want a second, smutty part 🤗;

Pair: Leon Kennnedy x Reader;

Type: fluff, but things get heated at the end;

If you want to commission me check my Ko-Fi. I also have a Patreon page if you wanna check it out. Thanks! ☺️

The day was about to end as the sunset blessed the sky with its beautiful amber rays. The patio was slowly becoming crowded as more people finished work by now, but Leon wasn’t bothered. He took a sip from his cocktail and watched the sunset, lost in his own thoughts.

Even if it’s been a week with no calls from work, he still waits for the familiar ringtone to disturb his peace. He brings one arm to his bicep and gently brushes his fingers over a certain spot. The pain was gone. All the bruises healed from his last mission.

“You alright?” You asked, seeing as he might not be here.

“Hmm? Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just... everything is calm and peaceful, you know.”

“And I take it you’re not used to it.”

“Nope. Usually, I would’ve been hit by this table by now instead of having dinner at it. Some big, scary monster would’ve chased after me, and so on.”

“Hmmm, I guess that’s true. If you want, I can chase you around with this knife and give you some adrenaline if you miss it.”

Leon chuckled and shook his head.

“No, it’s alright. It’s not that I miss the adrenaline, it’s the fact that I keep expecting something bad to happen any time now.”

"Well, stop it. Hunnigan was very clear when she told you that no one would bother you in your free time. There are plenty of agents; they can manage.”

“I guess you’re right.”

He took your hand in his and squeezed gently while smiling at you. The gentle breeze moved your hair from side to side slowly and delicately. Leon stared at you for a few seconds, admiring how beautiful you looked in that golden light that highlighted your beautiful features.

“One thing I’ll never get tired of is having such great company.” He said it softly while looking at you. He took another sip from his cocktail.

You smiled and looked away for a few seconds, but you didn’t move your hand. The way he was looking and talking with you made you blush.

“What?” He said this as his big thumb began to caress your skin. “I mean it.”

“I know; I enjoy your company too. It’s just that such moments like this with you are rare, and when they finally happen, it feels surreal.”

“I know… Don’t worry, I promise I’ll try to make them happen more often.”

A full moon replaced the sun, and stars filled the sky. You and Leon went for a walk after the meal you just had. The breeze was still gentle, but the air was colder, so Leon gave you his jacket since you forgot yours home. You were holding hands as you walked on the crowded boulevard.

“Wanna get yourself something nice?” He asked as you passed in front of some stores.

“Hmm, no. Maybe later.”

Leon spoiled you this week a lot. He bought you various gifts, took you to expensive restaurants, and made sure that the hotel where you were staying was one of the top. You paid too for some meals and tickets to tourist attractions, but it was mostly him to use the wallet. Despite telling him there was no need for such treatment, he ignored you and continued to pay.

He also went everywhere you wanted to go. He didn’t say “no” once during your vacation. He just enjoyed your presence, and as long as you were happy, he was happy too.

"Are you sure you’re not cold?”

"Yeah, I’m fine; don’t worry about me.” He chuckled as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him. Then he pressed a kiss on your head.

“You’re such a gentleman, Leon.”

Under the soft glow of the moonlight, the streets were bathed in a gentle silver light. Both of you found a quiet corner of the city and allowed yourselves to be caught in the magic of the night. The distant hum of traffic and the occasional city sounds provided a subtle backdrop to the moment.

Leon couldn’t take his eyes off you, smiling the entire time like someone who had experienced love for the first time.

The air between you became charged with an unspoken connection. Leon looked deep into your eyes as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

The streetlights cast a warm halo around you, creating an intimate space in the midst of the urban chaos. The night held a certain stillness, as if time itself had slowed to allow you to savour your romance.

You placed your hands over his shoulder, then went behind his neck as you leaned forward, closing the gap between your bodies.

The anticipation hung in the air, a delicate dance of desire. Leon finally closed the remaining space, and your lips met in a tender, long-awaited kiss. With closed eyes, you let your bodies be consumed by the intense lust that this magical moment brought.

The moon dispersed its bright light as if it were aware of this gentle moment, subtly urging its sister stars to gather and cast their shine in the beautiful moment that was unfolding beneath them.

Your mouths melted together in a union of passion. Neither of you felt like pulling out any time soon. Leon’s hands began to gently caress your waist, shifting the fabric of your shirt as they moved up and down. Your hands began to play with his hair, running it between your delicate fingers.

“Leon…” you said in a needy voice.

“Yes?”

“I think we should go back to the hotel…”

With a sigh, Leon pulled away. A smile shortly appeared on his lips as he cupped your face with his hands.

“I think you’re right.”

He kissed your lips one more time and grabbed your hand, guiding you back to the hotel through the crowded street.

Tag-list: @lunarastrobabe @skylar-todd @rokurodokuro @brownsugarwrites @yourallyse @ravenrune (if you want to be added DM me 🤗)

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil leon #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon x you #leon x reader #leon fluff #leon kennedy fluff

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chris-corner · 1 year

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Consolation Prize - Part 2

Pairing: Max’s Sister Reader x Lewis Hamilton

Summary: After ignoring you for the whole winter break, Lewis is back for the new season and sees you flirting with someone else. Combined with his frustrations at the underperformance of the W13 and Max taking the lead once again, he just has to show you who you actually belong to.

Warnings: 18+, sorry guys more hate-fuelled sex but slightly less angry, jealousy sex, just a bit (probably a lot) toxic, fingering and getting eaten out, overstimulation, unprotected sex, light bondage (hands tied to bed), under-negotiated kinks stillI guess, some spitting and slapping.

Notes: Look… I really was going to do a fixit but also there's lots of cute Lewis fics out there and I kinda love the toxic vibes so Im sorry but also not sorry for writing this. Also its filth.

Word Count: 4624

Part 1

Masterlist

The winter break, you have to admit, was pretty fucking painful. You’d sat waiting for a text you were pretty sure was going to come for the first week or so. After all, it was all such a mess that you were sure Lewis would reach out, and then maybe the tight churning feeling in your chest would stop. Maybe then you could talk through what happened and try and figure out a way to move forward. Sure, it still hurt, but you could understand that it was the heat of the moment and Lewis wasn’t in the best mindset, and neither were you.

When a week passed and you’d still not heard anything you started to panic. After everything you’d been through you thought that you would come out of this okay, that your friendship, your… whatever you were becoming, would mean more to Lewis than this.

By the time the new season starts, you’re done being sad about it, instead letting the anger curl up and make a home in your chest. Fine, if he wants to act like a dickhead then whatever. You try and convince yourself you don't care, and for the most part it works. You’re not your brother, and if Lewis can’t see that then fuck him.

Still, when you walk down the paddock on your way to see Max for the second race of the season, your Red Bull jacket half hanging off your shoulders, you can’t help but panic about seeing him. What if he looks at you, what will you do? What if he wants to talk to you? What if he ignores you? The questions won't stop swirling around your head and you’re so close now to passing the Mercedes garage.

In a desperate move, you spot a Red Bull mechanic also heading your way and you quickly make your way over to him, introducing yourself and slipping your arm into his, linking your bodies together. He looks a little surprised, but doesn’t seem to mind. You’re Max’s little sister, there's a lot you can get away with.

It’s so hard not to look over at the garage to see if Lewis is there, but you manage it, laughing a little louder than necessary at whatever the guy, whose name you’ve already forgotten, is trying to say.

If you had, you’d have seen Lewis look up as soon as he heard your laugh, eyes tracking you until you were out of sight, his jaw clenched as he took in the sight of your linked arms and matching Red Bull logos.

Honestly, the guy (whose name you still can’t remember but it’s too late to ask now) isn’t all too bad, and you find yourself going along with the back and forth chat that’s been bordering on flirting. He’s new, you find out, and single, you also find out, and not too bad on the eyes. Still, it’s not like he’s Lewis. You can’t help but feel a stab of pain as the thought crosses your mind but the anger rises in you again and you find yourself flirting a little harder.

Part of you worries it might be a little cruel to string him on like this, but another part of you figures that you probably should work on moving on from whatever that shitshow with Lewis was, and even though it would probably piss Max off, why not this guy. (You don’t even let yourself think about how mad he’d be if he knew everything that went down last season.)

It just happens to be perfect luck that the few times you see Lewis over the weekend are the times in which the dude is really trying his best to flirt with you, and if you lean into it a little bit when you catch him looking who can blame you.

It all comes to a head when someone grabs you by the arm and roughly pulls you into a side room as you’re making your way to meet Max at the media pen.

“What-” You start, shoving the arm off of you before you realise who it is.

Lewis.

He looks at you, jaw clenched, and you feel your breath leave you. God you want him so badly, still, after everything. He’s in his white mercedes shirt, clashing with your Red Bull team jacket, and his hand is still gripping your arm.

“What are you doing?” He asks sharply, his voice low.

You take a breath, composing yourself before you say something stupid. Remembering your anger as you look at his fury.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise I needed your permission to come to races now.” You snark out.

“No.” He snaps. “What are you doing with him?”

Your eyes widen, oh. Is he jealous?

“Why do you care? It’s none of your business Lewis, you made that really fucking clear?”

He pushes you up against the back of the door, his body pressing into you as he clashes his mouth against yours, biting at your lip and before you know it you’re kissing him back, kicking yourself for giving in so quickly. He slides his knee between your legs and your breath hitches in your throat. He smirks against your lips, moving to bite at your throat as he makes his way up to your ear.

“Do you really think he can give you what you need you little slut?”

It really should feel more insulting. Your anger hasn’t fully gone away and yet here he is, acting like he has the right to be jealous, calling you a slut like this is what you do.

Instead you let out a breathy whine in the shape of his name.

Just like that he’s gone. His hands, which were around your waist, his mouth, the press of his body all gone. You stumble forward a bit, looking over to see him standing a few paces away from you, a frown still on his face.

“Come to mine, later tonight.” He says, the words coming out more like a demand.

“Fuck you Lewis.” You say back, suddenly feeling like you could cry but you refuse to give him the satisfaction.

He clocks the change and something close to guilt flashes across his face watching you shuffle to compose yourself.

“I..” He starts but you quickly interrupt him.

“No Lewis you can’t do this. You can't… after everything that happened, after you just left me like that and didn't call or text or anything.”

“I needed space.” He says, but he sounds unsure now. “Look, will you just come to mine after the race tonight, please.”

You take a breath. You’re pretty sure it’s a terrible, terrible idea but maybe you can talk it out, maybe you can work past this. “Okay Lew.” You say softly.

“Make sure nobody sees you.” He frowns and tags on, like being seen with you would be the worst possible thing in the world. You feel the stab of hurt again and quickly push it down.

Then just like that he turns and leaves, brushing his hand gently against your arm as he does with a small smile.

You hesitate before knocking, pretty sure this is a terrible decision. Max had won the race, Lewis had come p10, struggling pretty much all through the race. You know he’d seen you celebrating with Max. You made eye contact with him as the guy from earlier picked you up and swirled you in the air, letting you down in a way that brushed your whole body against his. Still, despite everything your eyes locked with Lewis.

He looked furious.

You didn't even know if his offer would still stand, and if it did, you’re pretty sure he’s not going to want to sit down and talk things out after all that.

Yet, here you are, standing in front of his door.

It’s fucked up. You know it is. You know that if you go in that it's just going to end in upset and hurt. But then again, you also haven’t been able to get the memory of his cock filling you out of your head, nor the way he slapped your ass and fucked your throat. Before you know it you’re knocking, squirming and pressing your thighs together with anticipation.

He looks surprised to see you when he finally opens the door, and you feel your heart rate spike with the thought that you might have made a terrible mistake, but he quickly grabs your arm and pulls you inside.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” He says once the doors are closed.

You take a breath. “I’m sorry about your race.”

It seems to have the opposite effect to what you wanted. His face heardens and his jaw clenches slightly.

“You seemed to be having fun regardless.” He grits out. “Why are you here? Did your mechanic not put out in the end?”

It’s needlessly cruel, but you feel yourself squirming at his words. His eyes darken as he notices, and he moves forward to crowd into your space.

“Or do you know that he can’t give you what you need like I can?”

Okay then, talking like adults is off the table, toxic sex it is.

“I distinctly remember not getting what I needed last time Lewis.” You quip, goading him with the reminder of how he didnt let you cum.

“If we’re going to do this we need a safeword.” He tells you, seemingly ignoring your dig,

It’s as close to an admission that you’re going to get. As close to him acknowledging how fucked up this is. Still, it settles something in you that despite all of this, Lewis is still Lewis under it all. He’s still the guy you fell for. That if you backed down, told him how you felt, that maybe things would be different,

Still, you don't want to take the risk, and the heat between your legs is screaming at you to stay quiet.

“Ferrari.” You say, needing something that’s not going to come up in conversation, something Lewis won’t use to dig at you when he fucks you, something thats not Mercedes or Red Bull connected.

He nods his agreement, before guiding you into the bedroom.

Your heart is racing as he wordlessly shrugs your Red Bull jacket off, placing it down on the bed before slipping your top off too. It’s almost cold and methodical but then he runs his fingers over the thin fabric of your bra and you gasp as your nipples begin to harden at the touch.

He pulls you into a kiss, biting almost bruisingly at your lip and slipping his tongue over it a second later, all the while slipping his hand down to unbutton your jeans. You help him, shimmying your trousers down and stepping out of them before pushing back up to capture his lips in yours.

It feels almost normal, almost like everything you wanted as he unhooks your bra and you let it fall between you, grabbing onto his arms and feeling the muscles flex beneath your touch.

Until it doesn't.

He pulls back just as quickly as he did earlier, leaving you standing there exposed, nipples hardening with the cool air, in just your panties.

“Get on the bed.” He instructs, voice harsh.

You scramble to comply, lying on your back and looking over at him as he grabs your jacket,

“Might as well make this thing useful.” He laughs. “Hands together above your head, grab the frame.”

You do it and he smirks down at you as he uses the arms of the jacket to tie your hands to the bed frame.

“What a sight.” He says, leaning back and admiring his work, looking at you laid out in front of him without a protest. “I almost want to take a picture.”

He looks at you, a clear question in his eyes and when you say nothing he smirks, getting out his phone and clicking a few pictures of just your hands, tied up with the Red Bull jacket clearly identifiable. He doesnt get your face or you’re body in though, and you can't help but let out a small sigh of relief.

“I wonder what the team would say if they saw that.” He teases. “Maybe I ought to send it to them, show them what a slut their golden boy's little sister is. Maybe I should send it.”

“Lewis.” You warn, but his words make you squirm. He puts his phone down but doesn't let up.

“I bet you’re getting off on this aren’t you. I bet your little pussy is soaking already.”

“Lewis.” You repeat, but this time it comes out much more of a whine.

He smirks, shoving your legs apart and manhandling you into the position he needs to settle between them. It hits something at your core, being treated like this, like a moveable little doll.

“Seen as though you didn't get to cum last time, how about we see just how many times you can come tonight.” He smirks. “I want to see you cry for me.”

“But first.” He says. “I want you to beg for it.”

He brushes his hand up your thigh, across the seam of your underwear and up to your chest. He takes his time teasing your nipples, running his fingers over them and pinching at them slightly before leaning down and taking one into his mouth. You arch your back up, moaning as he bites down before soothing it with his tongue. His other hand reaches between your legs, a feathery brush against your clothed pussy.

“Lewis please.” You cry out, trying to push up into him but he moves his hand away.

He pauses, moving to bite at your neck collar bone. “Not good enough.”

He moves over to your other nipple, repeating the process and pressing against your with a light touch again.

“Lewis I need you in me please, I need you to fuck me.”

He pinches your inner thigh, right at the seam of your underwear as he bites down a little harder on your sensitive nipple, the other still hard and cold from where his spit has been left on it.

“Lewis, come on please. I want you to fuck me. No one else can Lewis, just you. I need your cock so badly.”

He pulls of you with a smirk, running his thumbs over both of your sensitive wet nipples to see you squirm against the restraints before he moves down between your legs,

“You beg like a whore.” He tells you plainly, not even looking at you as he holds your legs apart. You feel shame welling up inside of you but it’s quickly tempered by lewis pressing against your covered pussy, watching as the fabric darkens with your wetness,

“Look at that. Soaking already. I knew you would be.”

Without much warning, he pushes two of his fingers into you, over the fabric so that the roughness pushes into you as he uses his other hand to brush over your covered fabric.

“I want you to cum like this.” He says over your moans. “I want you to cum into your panties like a desperate little toy, needy enough that you’ll cum before I can even get them off you.”

He presses into you a little harder, jamming them inside of you as he quickens his pace.

It’s embarrassing, the way his words, this situation, his fingers on and pressing into you get you worked up so quickly, but before you know it you’re cumming, soaking your panties around his fingers as you do. Red hot shame fills you at the speed it took for him to get you off, and you can feel the blush rising on your chest and face.

“Wow.” He laughs at you. “That really was quick wasn't it, you must be really desperate for it.”

He slips your underwear off, and looks at them contemplatively.

“Open your mouth.”

He balls up the soaking wet fabric and presses it into you, making you taste yourself as you lay there, tied up and fully naked, cunt dripping and your underwear shoved in your mouth. He looks at you with pure lust in his eyes.

“Actually,” He tilts his head. “I think I'd rather hear you.”

He pulls the panties out of your mouth and throws them over the side of the bed, smirking as he watches you close your mouth and taste yourself. It’s ridiculous how he’s just treating this like a game, just using you in whatever way he wants for his own amusement, like you’re just there as a little sex toy for him to position and play with until he gets exactly what he wants, no regard for how humiliating it is for you,

He spreads your legs again, gently pulling you apart so he can look at your dripping wet pussy. Then, without any warning, he leans over and spits directly onto your cunt, watching it drip down your folds and mix with your wetness.

“Fucking filthy.” He mutters following the spit with his fingers, running them down your pussy and fucking them straight into you, ignoring your gasp as he brushes over your sensitive clit.

He fucks into you with quick harsh strokes, grabbing your inner thigh with his other hand to keep you spread wide and pressed into the bed. It feels amazing to finally have him inside of you, even if it's just his fingers.

“Look at you laying there taking it. Taking whatever I give you huh?”

“Yeah.” You breath out,

He moves to thumb over your clit again, and you clench around him as you let out a high pitched whine.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you.” You gasp out as he thumbs your clit.

He smirks.

“What’s his name?”

You can't quite grasp what he’s asking, the pleasure you’re feeling under his hands almost too much. “What?”

“The mechanic you couldn't keep your hands off all weekend. What. Is. His. Name.”

He punctuates his words with thrusts of his fingers right into your dripping cunt.

“I don’t know.” You gasp out.

“You don't know?”

“No I, I think he told me …but I forgot. I don’t know.” You try.

“You don’t…” He lets out a cruel mocking laugh. “You’re such a whore, giving it up for anyone aren’t you, don’t even have to know their name.” He pauses, but his fingers don't. “Or were you just doing it to fuck with me? Is it not enough that the car is shit? Is it not enough that Max is fucking humiliating me on track? Do you have to fuck with me too? Get inside my mind and make me jealous and pissed off?”

He seems to be getting into his monologue, fucking his fingers into you faster, curling them up inside you as he brushes your clit with his thumb faster.

“If you’re such a good fucking team how about every time Max wins on the track you let me fuck your little cunt exactly how I want. That’s fair don't you think?”

Not really, you think, it’s not fair at all, it’s incredibly fucked up.

He pauses after he’s said it, hands stilling, looking at you as if he knows that he’s gone too far.

Contrary to everything you should be feeling, his words make you moan and tighten around him, so maybe you’re just as fucked yourself. At your noise he starts fucking you again, the pressure on your clit and the effect of his words pushing you to the edge. The idea is so incredibly bad but also if you got to do this more then of course you were going to take it. You came here today after all.

“Okay. Yeah.” You whine out, and without warning you feel yourself pushed over the edge, tightening around his fingers as he drags yet another orgasm from you.

“I can't believe.” He grunts out, fucking into you still as you scream his name. “That you think you’re a good enough consolation prize.”

It’s cruel, but you’re pretty sure it's just all part of the game. Although the words are sharp and cutting, there's not the same anger there was before in Abu Dhabi.

“Lewis please.” You squirm, the feeling too much for you now. Everything is too sensitive.

Instead of letting up though, he leans down and runs his tongue over your cunt, pressing into your folds and dragging against your clit hard enough to make you shout out,

He pulls away. “You’re ruining my sheets.” He comments, looking at the pool of slick beneath you, before leaning back in to suck at your oversensitive clit.

You can't help the noises that are falling out of your mouth, a mindless babble of choked sobs and whines and half formed protests. It’s surely only a few minutes at most but it feels like an hour of overstimulation before he stops again.

“Fuck. You look so fucking hot when you cry.”

You didn't even notice the tears running down your face until he pointed them out, desperate and frantic.

“What's up baby?” He mocks, voice laced with condescension. “This is what you wanted isn't it? To cum? You asked for this.”

You can't even protest anymore, just let out a choked sobbing noise as he thumbs at your clit before pressing his hot wet mouth against you again, flicking his fingers up unrelentingly as you strain against your tied hands.

“You know, I was going to make you cum again before I fucked you but I think I want to see you cry while you cum on my cock.”

He gets undressed finally, stripping out of everything this time and you look at him through tear streaked eyes, watching the way his muscles flex as he slips out of his underwear and palms his rock hard cock.

Wasting no time at all, he runs his cock up against your sensitive cunt, coating himself in your wetness while you wiggle your hips up, desperate for it both to stop and for him to fill you up. You quickly get your wish as he pushes inside of you

“Fuck you’re so tight still.” He practically growls out when he slips inside of you, despite everything the stretch of his cock still pulls at you and you throw your head back and moan at the feeling.

“Just you Lewis.” You choke out. “Just you.”

You hope he gets what you mean. That despite everything that happened you haven't been with anyone since him. You havent fucked your way around the Red Bull mechanics.

“That's my good little slut.” He praises, fucking into you hard.

He runs his hand up to your chest, palming your tits before gently slapping one, watching as it bounces under his hand.

“Fuck.” He breathes out. “Can I?”

You don't know why he's asking now, after just doing everything before this, but you can't help but smile at the wonder in his voice, the uncharacteristically gentle question.

“Please.”

He repeats the action a little harder, the sound of the slap loud in your ears as he continues to fuck into you, groaning as you tighten around him. You think he’s going to do it again but he just thumbs your nipple, rolling and pinching it between his fingers before he leans down and takes it into his mouth.

He sits back up, watching your chest bounce as he thrusts into you before pausing to spit on your other nipple, thumb immediately running through the wetness, before following it with him mouth, gently biting at it.

It’s so good that you feel yourself getting close to the edge again.

“Lewis, Lewis I’m..” You choke out, and he gets the message, pulling back and moving your legs so that they rest on his shoulders, pressing you forward as he fucks into you deeper.

He snakes his hand around to find your clit, quickly flicking between feathery touches and hard presses, unrelenting until you finally break.

This time, it's almost painful when you cum, the pleasure ripped out from your core as you clench around him, tears falling from your face as you cry out his name in a choked sob.

“There you go.” He says affectionately, then, with more bite, “that wasn't so hard was it.”

He pulls out of you and runs a hand up your cunt, collecting your wetness and watching as fresh tears fall when he rubs against your clit, your cunt shaking under his touch.

He grabs your tit roughly, smearing your own wetness on your chest. Grinning down at his work, he does it again, watching you whimper for him before he spits down on your chest for good measure.

He quickly unties your hands, directing you to hold your tits together for him, which you do even though your arms feel a little numb from being tied. He gets between you, dick still wet from your cunt, and thrusts up between your tits, fucking them as you lay there, teary eyed beneath him.

He’s just made you cum three times, using your body however he wanted, playing with you like you were just there for his amusement, a little, what did he call you, consolation prize to make him feel better. This really seals it for you, him fucking up into your tits just because he can, knowing that youll press them together like a good little girl for him, your own wetness acting as lube.

“Open your mouth,” He says, breath heavy and voice strained, and you do, letting him fuck up and brush the tip of his cock against your tongue.

That must do it for him, because before you know it he’s paining your tits and your face with him cum, groaning as he watches you take it.

It’s humiliating, you think, but mostly, mostly it’s really fucking hot.

He moves off of you, looking down at you before swiping his cum off your cheek. You briefly think it’s a rather caring move, before he shoves his fingers into your mouth for you to clean them, repeating the action until you’ve taken it all, swallowing it down like a good little slut for him.

“Shit.” He says, laughing a little as he sits back against the bed.

“Yeah.” You say a little breathless.

You sit in silence for a while, recovering with his body a warm solid presence next to you. At one point he slips his hand over yours, threading your hands together.

“You okay?” He asks eventually, his voice a little unsure.

“Yeah.” You smile up at him, tired and exhausted. “You?”

“Yeah,”

It’s not the talk you envisioned coming into this, but it’s something.

“Can I use your shower before I go?” You ask, blushing slightly.

He laughs a little, running his fingers briefly over your sticky chest. “Yeah, of course.”

When you get out of the shower, he’s not in the bedroom anymore, so you quickly get changed, stuffing your ruined panties into your pocket and grabbing your jacket.

You find him in the living room, and he watches you as you make your way towards the door.

“I meant it, you know. About fucking you every time he wins.” He says before you open the door.

So maybe you’re not as okay as you thought. Still, you can't help but be a little thrilled at the outcome.

He raises his eyes as a challenge.

“So did I.” You wink, quickly slipping out of the door before he can reply.

Looks like you’ll be coming to a lot more races this season then, you know, just in case they don’t fix those porpoising issues…

#whoops #lewis is a bit mean #pov you're max's sister #im sorry im so insane #f1 imagine #f1blr #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton smut #x reader #max verstappen #is mentioned

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dark-frosted-heart · 2 months

Text

The Fairytale Keeper's Final Assessment - Roger (Premium End)

This is the 1st anniversary event and is in his POV.

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

Roger: Kate, I’d die of boredom without you. I’d miss you. So stay as a fairytale keeper.

Kate: Roger…

Roger: So, what are you going to do, Kate? Continue being a fairytale keeper? Or are you going to say farewell-to me.

Kate: I…

Roger: How about I give you an extension. I’ll wait for you at Crown Castle ‘til midnight. If you don’t want to be a fairytale keeper anymore, then you don’t have to come back.

Kate: Don’t need to come back…?

Roger: Yeah. I’ll just write “NO” on the agreement letter and that’ll be it. Alright, I’m heading out. Make a choice you won’t regret.

–

Alfons: So, you just abandoned Miss Kate? You’re the worst. Just like how the hunter abandoned Snow White. You’re a heartless, muscly glasses-wearing walking egoist!

When I got back to the castle, I grabbed Al, told him the whole story over drinks and he fired complaint after complaint.

Roger: You got some nerve hurling insults at me while ignoring how much of an ass you are yourself. Kate wouldn’t have been able to make a choice if I was there. And if I stayed, I would’ve been in trouble.

Alfons: Don’t tell me you were going to bring her back by force?

Roger: Hmmmm………?

Alfons: Oh this is not good. You’ll always be an egoist.

Ice clinked in Al’s glass of whiskey.

Roger: Al. I’m definitely egotistical, but that doesn’t mean my head’s empty. We’re all cursed, part of Crown, and killers. It’s a parade of misery and disaster. It would’ve been better if she stayed uninvolved.

Alfons: Well, I agree with you on that point.

Roger: And yet… There’s lots of things you can’t give up on. I’m sure the same can be said for you.

Alfons: … I don’t know about that. My glass is empty, so I shall be taking my leave. I hope that losing Miss Kate will make you fix your ways.

Roger: Haha, thanks.

–

How much time’s passed since Al left?

It’s not even because of my abnormally sharp hearing, but the clock sounds really loud.

(30 minutes ‘til midnight)

(What if Kate doesn’t come back?)

I’d definitely miss her a lot.

And then rationalize it as “it is what it is”.

(As we get older, we get a whole lot more decisions to make)

Five minutes ‘til midnight.

—The sound of Kate’s voice and footsteps reach my ears.

Kate: Roger!

(Ah…)

Roger: “Welcome back” Kate.

I looked up at the clock and saw that it was exactly midnight.

Kate: You must have felt a little worried. About how I might not have come back.

Roger: Well, maybe a little.

Kate: I was troubled. I mean…I have friends, and I was pretty useful as a postal worker.

Roger: Hm, I see. So why’d you come back with Liam?

Kate’s eyes dart side to side.

Kate: Well…um…it just happened that way.

Roger: I heard something like “tell it to Roger straight!”

Kate: !

Roger: Well?

Kate: The truth is…I couldn’t stand being alone so I went to see Liam at the Scala Theatre. I hung out with him…to kill some time.

Roger: Why?

Kate: Because…

Roger: Because?

Kate: Because…I wanted you to think about me of course.

Roger: …

Kate: Saying what you want, leaving everything to me… I…You know there was a chance we would've never seen each other again, right?

Roger: Yeah

Kate: You knew and yet you left just like that.

Kate started tearing up.

Kate: I thought…you’d want to spend more time with me.

(Really…this girl)

The day I met Kate, I tried to draw a line between us and have her live wisely.

A brief time at Crown as a fairytale keeper should’ve been enough.

(And yet)

~~ Flashback ~~

Kate: I still don’t have an answer on whether your betrayal was evil or not. Therefore— Can I not continue to think about it while being by your side?

~~ End flashback ~~

Kate said that and tried to get to know me and Crown.

(Nothing’s changed since that day…)

(No, she’s been chasing after me incessantly)

(Ah, damn it…)

(Everything about her’s so cute. It can’t be helped)

I drew closer to Kate and pulled her into a hug.

Kate: Ro…ger?

Roger: I still want to be with you. Let’s stay together, Kate.

Kate: I’m not doing this because you told me to. I’ve…made my decision.

Roger: Pfft, hahaha. Nice. I love a woman who can think for herself. But, do you really know what this means? If we’re together, then that means you’re gonna be at my mercy.

Kate: Bring it on. I still want to know more about you and Crown. Besides…I still haven’t proved that love exists yet.

For me, love’s something that has no proof. So I don’t have any faith in it.

What we call love is a dysfunction of the brain or a misunderstanding caused by sexual desire.

That’s my definition of love—Kate wants to prove me wrong.

(It's like saying you stayed for me, isn't it?)

Whether Kate’s affections can be called love is something yet to be seen.

Roger: In the meantime, let’s kiss.

Kate: ……Huh?

Roger: Didn’t you hear me? Kiss. Kissing. You like that, don’t you? Kissing and being affectionate.

Kate: O-of course not!

Roger: I thought you really liked me if you kept chasing after me.

Kate: That’s because…it’s my duty as a fairytale keeper.

Roger: Such a hard worker. I’ll talk to Victor about giving you a raise.

Kate looked at me in annoyance.

(You’re so cute)

Roger: Well then, let’s start with this “again” form here. Let’s get along, Kate.

I held out my hand and Kate grasped it in hers.

Kate and I are connected.

Once again, with a certain temperature.

–

Fairytale Keeper’s Letter of Agreement From here on, Kate will continue her role as the fairytale keeper. Because she’s a valuable dog, or assistant, in my research on curses. Beyond that, I’m simply curious -Roger Barel

–

(Kate’s POV)

It was a few days after I chose to continue my role as the fairytale keeper.

I had suddenly received a notice from Her Majesty the Queen. Kate, I’ve heard much about your work. Thank you for everything. Therefore, I would like a reliable woman to assess something. Whether Roger, who is cursed, is suitable for Crown.

#ikemen villains #ikevil translations #roger barel #ikevil roger #ikevil #ikevil jp

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katzell · 1 year

Text

Love, but not timing

Midge knows she's in love at the airport, and the realization is devastating.

I've been trying to track how Midge feels about Lenny for years. He's someone she aspires to be like. He's someone she can count on in a tight spot. He's the person guaranteed to make her laugh. And at the same time she craves a kind of intimacy from him. Midge wants his attention and loves that he flirts with her. And of course she's attracted him; she's got eyes. But Midge doesn't necessarily associate those things with love. Love is something women like Midge give to nice boys with day jobs who own property. For the first four seasons Midge is still an outsider in this other world of clubs and gigs, trying to learn its rules and its codes. Lenny is both an aspirational figure and a friend to Midge. But even when they sleep together I don't think she immediately sees it at love, but the natural escalation of a growing attraction. Oh its surprisingly lovely and wonderful. But before Midge can really parse that, Carnegie Hall happens.

At Carnegie Hall Midge loses face not just in the eyes of a lover but a mentor. He shatters her pride and lets her know she's been the one thing a Maisel never should be: stupid. That's a lot to process, particularly when you spend a few days in danger of losing a toe. But the conversation haunts her in a way that is familiar and awful. So Midge ignores it. And she certainly doesn't try to call. Midge wants the time to build herself back up again before she sees Lenny. She wants to come in from a position of strength. But there he is at the airport.

After she spots him, for a second Midge looks ready to bolt. But she can't, because for as much as she is hurting, the idea of ever walking away from Lenny is impossible. So she walks up using all of her willpower. And still, Midge looks like she might unravel when Lenny smiles, and even more when he tells her he's making a semi-permanent move to LA.

"Lucky girl," she says, when Lenny confesses his kid is moving in. Midge knows she's in love when she delivers that line, and also knows she can't possibly ask him not to go.

For his part, Lenny fell in love ages ago in a club in Florida.

To Lenny, Midge was a cute very funny girl who reminded him of the kind of girls he'd grown up with and the kind of girls who never paid him any attention. He revels in her gaze, in her wit, and in the way she thinks he's worth talking to. It's fun not to be the screw-up sometimes. Then Midge looks out for him, supports him, and lets him a little bit into her world, and Lenny has to admit Midge isn't just a girl anymore, but a friend. Everything Lenny learns about Midge is more impressive, more alluring.

In Florida he takes her out to his tv show and then to the club hoping to impress her in turn. He flirts with her because Lenny flirts with pretty girls. But you can see the world tilt under him as they stare at each other across the room. When they dance his ability to speak fails him. And when her head nestles into his shoulder Lenny knows he's absolutely gone.

If Lenny weren't in love with Midge he wouldn't have a problem waking up from a shitty night in her child's bedroom. Lenny isn't that fussy. But it's Midge, and he can't handle what he must look like, especially with this newfound glimpse into her home life. With Carnegie Hall Lenny can reclaim some dignity, let her put him back on his pedestal a little bit. He needs her to be impressed by him. Until, of course, he realizes the damage that little pedestal has actually done. Lenny doesn't call Midge. He's not good for her after all.

But at the airport I think he realizes she loves him back. It's just not enough to change anything. He can't offer her anything right now other than to push her towards her dream.

And maybe in a different world they'd meet again a few years down the line, and they'd fall back into the same dance, as if no time had passed at all.

#the marvelous mrs. maisel #midge maisel #lenny bruce #midge x lenny #luke kirby #rachel brosnahan #I never actually publish my meta #I prefer to just reblog all the people who pithier and cleverer #But if you don't see what you want to read you just got to suck it up and write it yourself #the marvelous mrs maisel

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ladytauria · 5 months

Note

Jaytimkon high School fic???? Maybe with popular skater boy Tim 🥺🥺🥺

Sending love and inspo!!!

i adore hs aus xD i did reference skater tim, though maybe not the popular part so much ^^;

i decided to go established timkon & pre-jaytimkon for this one~ i hope you like it!! thank u sm for the prompt <3

>> AO3 <<

“Oh my god, Tim. Just ask him out already.” Kon hisses, startling Tim out of his thoughts.

Or. Well.

He wasn’t really thinking so much as he was stealing glances across the library, where Jason has his nose buried in a book. He always does. Even at lunch, Jason doesn’t really sit with anyone; just picks an out of the way table to read while he eats.

It’s cute. Especially when he gets really into it, and forgets he’s in public; mouthing the words, making faces, even uttering soft noises.

Tim would feel bad about sneaking glances if he didn’t know Kon’s been doing the exact same thing.

“I— The whole school knows we’re dating, Kon.”

“I’ll go with you.” Kon shrugs, twirling a pencil between his fingers. “So he knows it’s chill.”

Tim glares. “Then why can’t you ask him out?” he hisses. Tim’s not the only one crushing, here. Why does he have to be the one to ask?

Kon rolls his eyes. “Because I asked you out,” he says, like that has any bearing on anything whatsoever. He pauses, then adds, “Also, you liked him first.”

“Yeah, which means you have experience.” Tim chooses to ignore the second part.

“Also means you’re in desperate need of some.” Kon rolls his eyes. Tim pouts at him, but Kon stares back at him, unimpressed. “Dude. You are like… one more longing sigh away from leaving him anonymous love letters. Just ask him out.”

Huh.

Love letters… Tim hadn’t thought about that angle. Jason’s social media presence is pretty sparse, except for a book blog he updates two or three times a week. Hadn’t Jason said something about the secret admirer trope in romance a bit ago? But was it positive or negative…? Hm.

“Oh my god. Babe.” Kon put his face in his hands. “That’s not a suggestion. Please don’t make me call Cassie.”

Tim stills. If Kon calls Cassie, it’s really only a matter of time before Cissie and Bart get involved. And while it’s possible they could take Tim’s side— Tim doesn’t want to listen to it.

“We could sign the letter?” he offers anyway.

“Tim.”

Ah. Kon’s no-bullshit tone has entered the chat.

Fair enough. Tim would probably end up spending weeks just trying to compose the damn thing before giving up entirely. Fine. Okay. Tim can wing it. He’s great at that.

He drags his hands down his face. “Okay. Fine," he says. "I can do that."

Kon pats his arm. “You’ve got this, babe.”

Tim appreciates Kon’s confidence, even if he doesn’t share it.

It takes Kon’s foot nudging his ankle for him to stand. The space between their tables seems insurmountable, like Jason might as well be separated from him by an ocean. Tim looks back at Kon.

Kon, again, looks unimpressed. The raised brow and crossed arms are very Ma Kent. Tim almost tells him so, but thinks better of it. Instead, he turns.

Okay. Ask Jason out. Tim can do that. He’s done scarier. Asking a cute guy out is nothing compared to getting his ass kicked at the skate park. Besides, he knows Jason. He’s the only reason Tim passed English last trimester, after all, and he was… surprisingly patient about it. Well. It was a little rough at first, but. Then something shifted, and it got easier, and Tim. He’d thought he’d liked Jason before, but actually getting to talk to him—

Well.

Maybe Kon had a point about his pining.

At least if Jason rejects him, he'll be nice about it.

The insurmountable gulf between them is surmounted in but a few measly seconds—just barely long enough for Tim to get his bearings. His heart is still beating a touch too fast.

Jason looks up from his book. “Can I help you?” Tim can’t help but think he looks like a disgruntled cat. It’s cute. His expression shifts, a little, when he realizes it’s Tim. “Oh. Hey, Timmers. Need somethin’?”

Now or never. “Yeah,” he says. He grips the back of an empty chair, just to have something to do with his hands. “Do— Kon and I were planning on getting ice cream after school today. We were… wondering if you wanted to come?”

Confusion creases Jason’s brow. “That… I wouldn’t want to intrude on your date,” he says slowly.

“You wouldn’t be,” Tim says, immediately. “You— We want you there.” He pauses, and then, to clarify, adds, “On the date. ‘Cause. It’ll still be a date, if, um. If you’re okay with that.”

Jason looks at Tim. Then he looks over at Kon, who winks.

Huh.

Tim’s never seen anyone turn that shade of red before. The color paints all the way down Jason’s neck, and under the collar of his uniform. “I—“ His tongue darts out, wetting his lips. He looks nervous. Tim can relate.

He pulls the chair out with his foot, sitting. “I know it’s probably kind of sudden,” he says. “Um. You can say no, if you want to. And—um. If you need more time to think about it, that’s okay too. We can go out another day.” He pauses, the wheels of his mind spinning. “It’s not a trick, either. I promise.”

He almost holds out his pinkie, because he’s embarrassing like that, but. He manages to stop himself.

Jason’s mouth works a couple more times before he finally manages, “I’d like— Ice cream sounds good.”

Tim sinks back into his seat. His cheeks ache from his grin—he’s pretty sure he looks like an idiot, but. He doesn’t really care. “Cool,” he says.

Jason smiles back. “Cool,” he repeats, softly.

#jaytimkon #konjaytim #timjaykon #cheetahleopard #asks and answers #tauriawritesfanfic #i wrote the first part of this fic the night you sent it~#and then after that i had a few more possible ideas for hs aus xD #but i decided to keep going with this one~#jason reading at the lunch table is inspired by the fact that i used to do the same thing #i didnt have the same lunch block as my friends (well. friend. i didn't have a lot of school friends lol) so #ALSO now im thinking about jaytim and/or jaytimkon but where they actually go the anonymous love letter route...

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cherryblossomlion · 1 month

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Toxic Yuri Drabble, part 2

This is my version of a meet cute...

First part here:

https://www.tumblr.com/cherryblossomlion/746586440721399809/toxic-yuri-drabble?source=share

🥃🥃🥃

It’s almost morning when Akemi sees the murder.

She’d left everyone behind at the club hours ago and ignored all the texts and calls that come after. Too much time in a crowd and something starts to build in her, something that needs to get out. The same thing that builds in her when she's been in the same place too long, the reason this is her third university in as many years.

Ise hates when Akemi does this, says one of these days she's going to get herself killed, but she does it anyway. Besides, she likes it at night. Likes being by herself in a crowd, or when it thins out, in the darkest part of it. If she does get herself killed, maybe that would be interesting.

She took some pills from the guy Ise's been pushing on her, her boyfriend's friend Taigen. It just turns out to be Adderall, so she just gets kind of overly clear and grinds her teeth as she walks and walks and walks– Akemi never really wears heels. They might keep her from going.

Someone follows her for a little while, but loses interest when Akemi stops and turns to face him. He’s just a middle aged white man. She pulls a switchblade from the pocket of her hoodie and flips it open. She thinks about it a lot, how someone small like her could kill someone bigger. Hasn’t had any practice.

Ise’s probably right. But maybe one of these days Akemi will kill someone.

The man turns away after considering her for a bit. Akemi knows it's not because she's a threat, just too much trouble.

She doesn't see anyone for an hour after that. Birds start to sing, even though the sky hasn't started to brighten yet. It's the only time you can hear them in the city.

Her shadow slides into sharper relief as it spills from ambient light into the brightness of a streetlamp, which flickers off as she passes through it. A moment later it flickers back on, picking out an overturned garbage can, spilling its contents into the street. She has an urge to kick it, empty it completely, but it seems wrong to violate the silence. Instead, she steps around it, until a movement in her periphery draws her attention.

There are people in the alley.

They look like they're dancing, the two figures, a strange dance in which they both face the same direction. Everything else about them is reversed. The taller one, the one whose face was hooked into the other’s shoulder, is a woman, the man small relative to her. She holds him like a puppet, elbows held out akimbo– then it comes together. She’s strangling him.

There's no sound at all. Even the birds have paused their song. The man who’s being strangled can't even get out enough air to choke. His limbs stutter, he struggles to make contact with the figure behind him, and the woman circles him around. All of the sudden Akemi is facing them both.

Her eyes are blue. Akemi can tell that even from here, the color is so bright.

When she manages to drag her eyes away from them she notices the man looks like the one that had followed her.

Akemi's not hiding, and she doesn't try to. Even though everything is bright and clear and slow, she's not afraid. Akemi watches the killer watch her as she finishes killing her victim. Watches the color in the victim's face fade. He reaches out to her, once. The killer is still watching when the body slides to the ground.

The killer steps whole, tall and long-boned, into the spill of streetlight. Her hair is gathered in a low bun, and she's wearing loose, dark clothing. Not black, Akemi realizes, when the killer gets closer. Indigo.

There's still no sound as the killer approaches Akemi, her movements muscular, intent written into them. She's going to kill me, Akemi thinks with fascination. It’s only now that she spots the knife in the killer’s hand.

It gets slower, and clearer. Akemi takes her switchblade out of her pocket again, but all the tension breaks when she pushes the button and it flourishes open, the tinny sound echoing down the alley.

Akemi laughs. It's so stupid. There’s no way she could take this person.

The killer stops a foot away from her, inclines her head. Akemi has to look up. She must be six feet tall.

“Twins,” says Akemi, gesturing with her knife, towards the killer’s, because it's already stupid.

All of the sudden the woman is standing over her, and Akemi’s face is in her grip– her hand is hot, almost fevered. She’s closer than ever to her face, diamond-shaped and clear and young. Not quite androgynous. Those eyes, that unnatural blue.

She feels the killer's blade against her neck.

“Beautiful,” Akemi whispers, even though the killer is as close to handsome as she is to beautiful, her dark brows like crow's wings, her mouth more carved than soft.

Akemi feels more alive than she maybe ever has before, every nerve and cell in her lit up. More in the spirit of reciprocity than anything, She takes her silly little switchblade and presses it to the killer's own neck, which is long and golden and swan-like.

She leans into her grip, into the thin kiss of steel. This is what she'd been looking for, all this time. This is a good ending. Turns out Ise was right.

It doesn’t end, though.

The killer just studies her face for a long, long moment, and releases it, and lets her go. Leaves her alone in the alley, hidden from the morning’s creeping light, with the afterglow of blue floating in her eyes.

#blue eye samurai #mizukemi #akemizu #akemi x mizu #mizu x akemi #fanfic #wlw #akemi blue eye samurai #toxic yuri

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rottorex · 9 months

Note

Maybe something a little bit like Snake bites

Hmm 🤔 I can give you some NSFW Dom Obanai headcanons since his sexuality is what’s focused on in that fic. Still Obamitsu centered ofc bc we all know what I love writing.

Some of these might be a little contradictory and cringe, but y’all get me I know you do. Some time has passed since I wrote snake bites and my thoughts of their smex life has changed just a bit.

****I’m sure you know but if you didn’t, anon is speaking in ref to this old oneshot of mine. (Shameless plug bc I actually recently edited/revamped it)

🔞minors DNI im so serious. I’m mean and annoying I will block u. Minors deserve a space online! Just not here while I’m talkin bout’ sex

Ignore the typos this is for fun!

Dominant Obanai HC’s

In my mind, Obanai is the ultimate final boss of switches. This man holds zero preference in whether he Tops or bottoms bc he really only cares about one thing. Her

Indiscriminate Giver and body worshiper. He’s almost entirely focused on making Mitsuri feel pretty and desirable. Heavy handed with his groping. Likes to squeeze at her breasts and slap her ass. Prefers to bite and suck on her inner thighs. The skin there is unfathomably soft. It feels good between his teeth and they’re sensitive enough to make her twitch.

Him being a switch aside, if he’s topping her…well 👀

Service Dom, I cannot stress this enough. Can get borderline sadistic with how many Orgasms he’s determined to give her. Half of his motivations for it is just getting off on pleasing her. The other half is the need to fuel his ego. Maybe even prove to himself that he’s good enough. He wants to be the only one who can make her feel good. Very good

Will use any and everything to get her off. His mouth, his fingers- one of the tens of toys and contraptions hes bought her. (He fantasies about getting her one of those fuck machines.)

Refuses to give her any dick unless she’s over stimulated and only has one O’ left in her.

Obsessed with eating pussy (you’d need a crowbar to pry him off of her). Has a slightly humiliating habit of cumming in his pants prematurely from getting too excited over it. Will suck her clit till she’s grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling him off.

In love with every aspect of her, from her body to the core of her being. That being said…her body? Divine. Perfection.

Loves to watch her masturbate sometimes. Wont even touch himself. just watches to obsess over how gorgeous she is.

I know everyone thinks he’s a boob guy, and I see it! Especially if he’s in a bottoming for her and she’s just smothering him. He loves that shit. But in my mind he loves every part of her equally…and then her thighs just the smallest bit more.

She’s got a lot of insecurities, she’s a bit anxious, and he has a zero tolerance rule for any negativity towards his partner. And Mitsuri is not exempt from that. Meaning even a hushed comment about her looking bad is reprimanded later.

Will withhold orgasms until she repeats whatever gushy praises he’s cooked up for her. She wants to cum? Not until calls herself a pretty girl.

Makes her watch herself. He loves having her masturbate infront of mirrors. Or even positions the both of them to where she has to watch him fuck her.

A bit of a call back to him liking to watch her: On rare occasions, when he’s in the mood for a little quick action, he’ll fuck her face. Because yes her mouth feels so good on him, but oh does she look so cute with a messy face and runny makeup. Will happily cum on her if she asks for it.

He’s not a fan of hitting, that’s his princess, tf 🤨. But sometimes she’ll request for him to handle her roughly, and he will comply because she asked him to. He tried slapping her in the face once and immediately cried over it. Apologized 4000 times despite Mitsuri literally saying “hit me” 30 seconds prior.

#obamitsu #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #ao3 #shyanswersasks #headcanons #this was so EMBARASSING to write #don’t bully me #iguro obanai #obanai smut #mitsuri kanroji #iguro x reader

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driftward · 10 months

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Junelezen 2023: Aftershocks

Last week, I had a masterpost of every single entry I made for Junelezen 2023, which I dubbed Echoes. This week, I am posting annotated entries for every post from there, except this time I am linking to specific entries in the reblog chains, or to posts that others made as responses to Echoes. In particular, one member of my FC, (here on Tumblr as @yzeltia), took it upon himself to create a reblog response to every post.

The previous masterpost can be considered the 'original cut', consisting solely of my entries. This is the 'fat cut' I mentioned there. What parts of all this are canonical? I don't know, come back with a warrant.

As already mentioned, this post will have annotations on the various entries. I could go on for hours about my thought process, things I learned, and I may yet make some other posts about such things, but for now, I am (mostly) restricting myself to commentary here, both on my work, and the work of others.

I have learned a lot during this. One of the things I have learned is that in the future, readmores and reblogs do not necessarily play well together for these round-up posts, as readmores will roll out without the linked reblog, and if you just look at the reblog chain, you'll miss whatever was in the readmore. If I do this again in the future, I think I will stick to making posts, and maybe just link back and forth between them. And maybe if I am responding to someone else's work like this, instead of a reblog, I might just tag OP? I am uncertain. Reblogs keep tumblr alive. The cleanest for archive purposes would probably be reblog the original, then make the follow-up and tag the originator. Still though, that's neither here nor there. What is here is the fantastic work done by others.

And I appreciate all of it. I am humbled by the response.

Final note, these will largely link to Y'zel Tia's responses, since he reblogged almost every response with his own screenshot and words. Click throughs and context should make it obvious which ones are which.

.portrait

Where we got started, with a bit of a literal framing device. Y'zel Tia belongs to @yzeltia; part of his character canon is being a cousin to Y'shtola Rhul, and so that'll explain why you'll often see both of them in his responses. I'm not at all sure why Y'shtola would be interested in what happens to some random feckless adventurer, though...

Special shout out to @matrixdragon and @sabbactroll who both had, uh, opinions on this development. :)

.home

Look, haven't we all had a scientific experiment go a little sideways and light someone's world on fire. This is, of course, the bridge between the Incident and Junelezen: Echoes.

.spring

What strange sights are seen beyond the veil of reality, and what utterly normal places those left behind would go. I picked Coerthas as an early anchor point, since that's where Zoissette grew up.

.new adventure

I was still learning a lot here, both about my tools (gpose+more/Affinity Photo) as well as the posting medium (tumblr). An early goal I had was that the Junelezen 'entry' would be its own screenshot with minimal words, and I would build on the 'story' portion in reblogs or readmores, so that way people who were only interested in the Junelezen part could ignore the rest. This one I used a reblog to expand the story.

Studying Her History (by @yzeltia)

Zoissette would probably prefer they stay out of her room at the Baldesion Annex. Y'shtola is always cute when passed out from studying too much though.

.job

Using a reblog chain to expand the story portion again. I couldn't figure out how to make the jobstone work, so I added a light source to Zoissette's hand to make a kind of 'glow'. Not real happy with how it turned out, but making mistakes makes the learning happen.

Informing Alka Zolka (by @yzeltia)

Okay Y'zel was just trying for emotional damage here. I mean, he succeeded, but still. :|

.mount

I have written about part of Zoissette's mission of mercy before. Look ma, my lore has lore. This event left its mark on her; it did not change her in any great way, just sort of underlines who she already was at that point. In the reblog, Y'zel went for the emotional damage again. Writing in my FC is a PvP activity.

Absence Felt (by @ladyofvoss)

Incredible work here, in the expressiveness of the posture, and the choice of shots taken (at my heart). This is Thalia Voss, belonging to @ladyofvoss. Where she's at is Zoissette's office at Gage Acquisitions (designed by fellow FC member Ghurab)

.friends

Another reblog chain. Compositing the 'shards' to put the faces of friends into them was quite difficult, each one requiring four layers (the way I did it) and quite a bit of manual touch up work. The color scheme was chosen on purpose. Look, Junelezen is also Pride Month, I don't make the rules, but I do make things queer.

1000 words remix (by @yzeltia)

Y'zel has a real fondness for all things music, and that's seen here. As @saesama put it, 'he made an AMV in tumblr form'. Having not played FF X-2, I was not familiar with the song, but I am now. This will not be the last musical piece from our aurally inclined catboy.

.beauty

With this one I really found the problems with reblog chains when making archival posts. This links to the reblog I made to my own post to add story, but in going to the original post, it's actually really hard to fish out the reblog!

We get further hints here that 'Adriané' may not be who Zoissette thinks she is.

Dancing Alone (by @yzeltia)

Dance like nobody's watching. Hey. Why are you watching. Go away, this is meant to be a private moment!

.mirror

Getting to here took a lot of false starts, fiddling with Affinity Photo, getting samples from in game, changing outfits, and it was all worthwhile in the end. I really like the end result. Y'zel went for a more chaotic approach.

Absence Mourned (by @scrollsfromarebornrealm)

For context, the character in these shots is Mathye Bishop, who belongs to @scrollsfromarebornrealm, a character who has been courting Zoissette for over a year by this point. They are close, in any case. The tone provided by the filter and his posture all scream of the devastation he feels in the wake of Zoissette's absence.

.summer

A memory that never happened, but did. Strange things in these echoes, and as has happened before, Y'zel's character visits the 'real' location, feeling a twinge of what is going on out beyond the rift, thanks to his own Echo gift. Klynt Gohtawyn belongs to @saesama, and this hearkens back to the days she and Zoissette may have crossed paths back when they both worked for the Maelstrom.

Klynt's a jerk.

.day

Not much to say for this one. I thought the sun would make more of an arc crossing the sky, making for an interesting dynamic shot, but it turns out it makes kind of a very straight line, which makes sense if you think about it. I had an alternative shot planned that, while it was gorgeous, I just couldn't make the story aspect of it work out. I will probably share that shot, and others, at a future date.

.sun

You can see I am choosing more and more often to use readmores instead of reblogs, and I will probably stand by that decision in the future. Also here is where I found out I had been doing a crime these many years. Due to her somewhat reserved nature, I usually have Zoissette have very subtle almost-nonexistent expressions. Clearly, this entire time, I should have been turning them up somewhere around 11. I love her face.

Echo Disrupted (by @yzeltia)

Looks like in the search for their friend, someone may have overdone it a bit. Overdoing it a bit, in fact, seems to be a bit of a theme with Y'zel, both player and character.

.ancient times

I am not going to take the space it would require for me to say everything that I would like about Atlas, so instead I will just mention that this served as a useful pivot for the story, and provided a path forward. I had actually been juggling several ideas up to this point, and this is where I hard committed to a specific direction. Thanks, Atlas.

Sanctuary remix (by @yzeltia)

Honestly I think Y'zel having his character black out was just an excuse to have a space to put this entry without having to worry about what I was doing. Which, really, is a stroke of genius. Another AMV in tumblr form. Should we make a new word for that?

.night

It was around here that I decided to lean more on my strengths - writing - and less on screenshots. That decision did not last long. Junelezen started as a screenshot event, and I was having fun with those. Here we anchor for everything ever after.

Connected remix (by @yzeltia)

Y'zel introduces me to a new song that lives in my heart.

.romance

Zoissette, no longer losing herself in the echoes, shows up only in the containment suit in shots from here on out. I continue to be cheeky about the colours I use whenever she's in the rift, and Y'zel drops a slick FF8 reference, which just really plays into my love of multiverse shenanigans.

.magic

Not completely sworn off of reblogs yet, though this reblog was pushed out fast, before I had a riot on my hands. This is also where I started hinted more heavily at things to come, with another Lavender PoV piece.

In the reblog chain, where you see the fairies, from left to right, is C'oretta Khell's (belongs to @autumnslance) Lotus, pink-shifted compared to the others; Ryssthota Sundstyrwyn's (belongs to @erickgage) Glitterdust, and Riven Fortemp's (belongs to @scrollsfromarebornrealm) Sugarplum, who I tried to make the little hairtufts rounder for.

.magic response by Y'zel Tia

You can ask Y'zel about this one.

.autumn

And pulled that trigger. This is where I finalized the smoke effect I wanted to use for Lavender, and I'm rather proud of how it turned out, particularly in future shots.

.landscape

I really like this shot, for the utter alien landscape I managed to make using FFXIV assets and some aggressive photo editor work. My only regret is that it does not -quite- look like Zoissette and Lavender are actually in that place, but I think that can be fixed with a few more adjustments.

I'd been leaning on Y'zel's entries to sort of weakly gesture at what may have been going on in the 'real world' while Zoissette was gone, but here I start to make my own narrative about the matter. Judging from conversations I've had, there is one thing I could have made clearer in this story. Zoissette's perspective of how much time has passed is dramatically different from that of the Source. In the Source, it has been a short time. For Zoissette, it has been quite a lot longer.

.travel

I think this is the only one with a single screenshot. I lean more heavily on my writing abilities once more, and I think they speak for themselves.

.dungeon

Figures. Zoissette is having one of the worst days of her life, and the cats are napping. It took me a while to settle on a ghostly effect for the people 'yelling' at her, and I rather like how it turned out. We also are spending more time with Lavender. Hard decisions to be made, but just because they are hard does not mean they are difficult. Lavender and Zoissette are alike like that.

.deity

Some trivia. Zoissette's mom lost her right arm fighting a dragon, back before the Calamity. The Deity is supposed to be a mix of Halone and Zoissette's mother, and so, she, too, is missing her right arm.

.harvest

Reaper job unlocked. Un-edge-lording your edgelord jobs since at least 2016.

.hobbies

So while I was writing a follow-up story for The Incident, I was also trying to follow the Junelezen prompts. And one of my goals was that someone who was just here for Junelezen could just see the photo, nod, go 'ah that makes sense' and move on without having to know a damned thing about the Incident or about Zoissette. I probably did not succeed as well as I would have liked, but I did try.

Having said that, the location of the hobbies prompt in the middle of the others and what I had planned presented some real problems for me, and I did not solve it until pretty late. So we get this moment of downtime. I like how it turned out, but it sure did vex me getting there.

.winter

Back where we began. A lot has changed, a lot has stayed the same. There are a lot of subtle things I did intentionally throughout this story. In this shot, the shift to the skybox and lighting, as well as changing where they are sitting relative to the fence, were decisions I made on purpose.

Speaking of changes done on purpose, Y'zel-the-character's hair goes white as he once again overdoes it. We do recurring themes here, sir.

.cozy

I will stop composing shots of Zoissette and Y'shtola sitting like this the day I die. Also, seriously Y'zel, is NOW the time to be forcing that question??? Ridiculous, now we have -two- casualties.

.relaxing

Under the readmore, we spend more time with the science team, as they try to work out what to do next. But here...

A Relaxing Summary (by @matrixdragon)

I will let @matrixdragon provide the summary.

.fancy clothes

A schematic of the Aurora Laboratories Containment Suit. And two more questions from @matrixdragon, who picked up on my oh-so-subtle (okay no it wasn't) Babylon 5 reference. On that note, I adore the Babylon 5 questions, and I think they serve as an extremely useful framing tool for just about any character in any universe.

Some very touching possible answers from Y'shtola in Y'zel's reblog.

Midnight talk

Things are happening, and faster, now. I did not use a readmore or the reblog chain for these additional entries, which I made sure were scheduled for 2300 in my time zone every night. 1100 for the Junelezen post, 2300 for additional story posts. I keep to this plan for the rest of the run. These special additional entries I refer to as The Eleventh Hour.

.family

Thank you to everyone in these shots. I have a little story in my mind for each one. Maybe I will even write them one day.

The Trapeze Swinger remix (by @yzeltia)

As I go through these entries, I can tell how and where my skills are improving. I can say the same for Y'zel, whose 'tumblr AMV' skills expand. While they are all very good, this is one of his best works, in my opinion, and I found another new song through him.

Recovery plan

Another Eleventh Hour entry. You know, it's funny, this arguably all started because Zoissette was trying very hard to not be a burden on her FC or an inconvenience to anyone.

Sure seem to have inconvenienced a lot of people here.

The Last Contingency: Judgement Call (by @saesama)

This one stabs right in the feeling-parts, but somebody has to think of these things, and Zoissette isn't here to do it.

.holidays

Erick Gage (@erickgage) has something to say about this whole mess.

The Only Exception remix (by @yzeltia)

You may have invented the AMV. But Y'zel tumblrized it. Perfected its new form. And then he unleashed it upon us all.

Reconciliation

And truth, at last. I could say so much here. I elect to say nothing.

.free

The final shot was a pain to composite, and I am so proud of how it turned out.

.begin

One year, from Zoissette's perspective, give or take a lot. Two weeks for the world. But she's home again.

Ma there's a cat on the foot of my bed I don't know how it got there (but seriously, thank you @yzeltia :) )

BONUS SECTION

Imposter Syndrome! (by @starladyquasar)

Ladies, ladies, you're both beautiful. Though also seriously, Squeenix, give us more customisation options.

ELEZEVANGELION (by @yzeltia)

You want to know what it's like being part of the funniest FC? It's pretty great, I tell you what.

Anyroad. Special thanks to all of you - those who stopped to leave a comment, or found me on the moon during a screenshot session (you know who you are), or even those of you who just followed along, in whole or in part. And for those of you who were just here for Elezen shots, I hope you found something you liked in here!

#final fantasy xiv #junelezen 2023: aftershocks #aftershocks #masterpost #zoissette vauban #lavender #gage acquistions and allies #scions of the seventh dawn #y'zel tia #and so many more <3

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blueskrugs · 2 years

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Cornelia Street | Nico Hischier

once again I originally planned this fic for a different player, but here we are over a year later, writing it for Nico instead. can't say I'm mad about it. this fic also has the added bonus of being in celebration of 1100 followers!! 💛 this fic roughly follows the 2019-2020 season fyi

shoutout to @broadstbroskis for always being down to beta these babies, no matter how long it’s been since I’ve written something, and to @antoineroussel for lowkey being the reason I was so motivated to finally finish this fic.

this took 13 sheets of looseleaf to write, and idk that feels important.

length: 5.3k words

We were a fresh page on the desk Filling in the blanks as we go

It started, like many things, Brianna Miller would later learn, because of Jack Hughes.

Brianna was sitting in a café, sipping her morning coffee and idly skimming a reading for one of her lectures. Someone rapped their knuckles on her table, startling her. She looked up. Jack was still relatively new to the Jersey sports scene, but Brianna knew enough to recognize him. He was smirking. Brianna would also learn that that was a common occurrence, as well.

“Can I help you?” she asked. She glanced around the café. It was busy, but not crowded enough that anybody would need to kick her out of her prime corner table.

“My friend thinks you’re cute,” Hughes announced.

Brianna glanced around again. This time she spotted someone at a table not far from her own, hiding his face in his hands. If this was some sort of mean joke, Brianna didn’t think it was very funny.

She forced a laugh. “Yeah, whatever,” she said, hoping she sounded blasé. She shut her laptop, harder than she meant to. “I’ve gotta go, I have classes to get to.” Hughes’ grin, which hadn’t faltered until now, fell. She shoved her laptop in her bag and stood, pushing past Hughes.

“No, wait,” he said. He grabbed Brianna’s wrist but dropped it quickly. He cast a look over Brianna’s shoulder. “A little help, bro?”

“I told you not to say anything,” a soft voice said from behind Brianna. She tried desperately to place the accent before she heard someone step up behind her.

“Well, you weren’t going to,” Hughes shot back. Brianna turned. Serious eyebrows. Shy smile. Bright red cheeks. Nico Hischier.

“I’m sorry about him,” he said. Hughes made an offended noise behind Brianna. They both ignored him. “I’m Nico,” he added, offering her a hand.

She shook it. “Brianna.”

Nico’s smile grew, less shy, more confident now. “Jack wasn’t lying, by the way.” He did still look a little sheepish.

“Well, maybe I should just give Jack my number then,” she said, sounding more confident than she felt.

Nico just grinned. Brianna was relieved, in a weird way, that he recognized her teasing and was rolling with it.

“I wouldn’t,” Nico said. “He’d probably ghost you.”

Hughes made another indignant noise; they ignored him again. Brianna held out her hand for Nico’s phone. A part of her still wondered if this was some sort of mean-spirited prank, but Hischier seemed sincere enough, so she might as well go with it. It would make a nice story one day, at least. Nico handed over an unlocked phone, still grinning at Brianna. She hoped her hands didn’t shake too obviously as she carefully typed her number into a new contact, then double-checked it.

“Wish I could stay, boys,” she said, passing Nico his phone back, “but I’ve got a class to get to and a reading to finish for it.”

“Yeah,” she heard Nico say faintly as she brushed past him.

Brianna wished she could say it was easy after that. Days passed, then weeks. Brianna never heard from Nico. She finally brushed it off and was just starting to forget it had happened when Nico tumbled into the seat across from Brianna at the same coffee shop where they’d met. He startled her so much that she nearly spilled her coffee, and she glared across the table at him. He at least had the grace to look chagrined.

“Can I help you?” she asked, an echo of what she’d said to Hughes.

“I’m so sorry,” Nico burst out. Brianna raised an eyebrow at him and took another sip of her coffee. “I’m terrible at texting, ask anyone else. I don’t know how to start conversations, it’s why Jack came over to talk to you in the first place, then we left on a really long road trip, and I was too busy to do anything except sleep, plus with the time difference on the West Coast…” Nico had said all that in one breath, but he trailed off. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

Brianna shook her head. “I don’t need or want your excuses, Nico.” Nico winced and opened his mouth to say more, but Brianna talked over him. “I get it, you didn’t mean anything by it, and Hughes put you on the spot. I just wanna move on.”

“They’re not excuses!” Nico protested. He winced again. “Er, well, I guess they are but…it’s not that I didn’t want to text you, I’m just really bad at this.”

“Whatever,” Brianna said, but she didn’t make any move to get up. Neither did Nico.

Nico huffed and pulled out his phone. Conversation over, apparently. Brianna’s phone vibrated next to her. She narrowed her eyes at Nico and picked it up. A text from an unknown number read: Do you want to get coffee sometime? I’m pretty bad at texting. Another text rolled in. This is Nico btw.

Brianna glanced up at Nico. He was staring at his phone, trying to keep a straight face, but the way his eyes were crinkling at the corners gave him away. Brianna sent him back an emoji with its tongue sticking out. Nico chuckled and set his phone aside.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated again.

Brianna was starting to believe him. She kicked him gently under the table.

“Alright, fine, you’re off the hook,” she told him. “For now.”

Nico broke into a grin, and Brianna noticed for the first time how tense he’d been. She lost track of time while she and Nico chatted over their coffees, trying to get to know each other. Nico asked about what Brianna was studying—secondary education with a focus on history— and seemed actually interested as she lost herself in an explanation of her classes. Brianna knew enough about the Devils to know that the state of the team was rather rocky, but Nico’s face lit up when she asked about his teammates. It was obvious that he’d do anything for them.

Nico’s phone rang, startling both of them. They both stared at it. Eventually, Nico swore under his breath and picked it up. It stopped ringing, and a text came through instead. Nico grimaced.

“Team meeting, apparently.” He sounded apologetic.

Brianna glanced at the time on her own phone. “It’s fine. I’ve got classes this afternoon I should get ready for, anyway.”

Nico waited until Brianna stood before he got up, too. “Can I see you again?” he asked.

Brianna pretended to think about it, but Nico was too earnest to deny. She couldn’t resist teasing a little bit, though.

“You’ve earned yourself a second chance, don’t waste it by ghosting me again.” Nico flushed. “I’ll text you or something, okay?”

Nico grinned at her. Brianna was really starting to love that grin. “Okay.”

Nico did get better about texting after that, though Brianna could tell that he really was awkward over text. It turned out to only be a few days before they saw each other again, when Brianna ran into Nico at a bar on Sunday night. Literally.

The bar was crowded enough that it was a little hard to navigate, and Brianna blindly bumped into someone as she turned away from the bartender, spilling her drink over her hand. The stranger’s hand reached out to steady her.

“So sorry,” a voice said, hard to hear over the noise of the bar. They were both jostled again when someone bumped into him on the other side.

Brianna frowned. “No, it was my fault,” she said. She wasn’t on her first drink. Or her second, or third, for that matter. Wait. She knew that voice. “Nico?”

She looked up into the face of the person she’d bumped into for the first time. Nico was distracted, too, looking over his shoulder to talk to someone. A teammate, probably. He turned when Brianna said his name, though. His hand was still on her elbow. A crease appeared between his eyebrows.

“What are you doing at a bar on a Sunday night?” he asked. Someone passed him a beer. He took a drink without looking away from Brianna.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Brianna pointed out.

“Don’t you have class tomorrow?”

“Don’t you have practice?” Brianna countered.

Nico rolled his eyes, but a small smile was growing on his face. “Fine, you have a point.” He looked closer at Brianna’s face, too serious. She wanted to kiss him until she could get him to smile again, suddenly. “You’re drunk.” An observation, not a question.

“No, I’m not,” Brianna argued. A little tipsy, maybe.

“You like to argue when you’re drunk.” Nico sounded amused. Brianna stuck her tongue out at him, and that amusement grew, his eyes crinkling again. “Alright, where are your friends?”

“It’s my birthday tomorrow,” Brianna said instead of answering.

Nico was leaning close to hear her over the din. He blinked at her.

“Happy birthday.” He paused, but didn’t say anything else. Brianna stepped away from the bar finally, leading Nico back to where her friends still were. “I’ll buy your next drink, yeah?”

They were at Brianna’s table. One of her friends looked up.

“Oh, good, we were starting to think you’d been kidnapped,” she said. “I see you found a friend,” another commented.

Nico’s hand had moved from Brianna’s elbow to the small of her back. Brianna threw an arm around Nico’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“If anyone’s getting kidnapped here, I think it’s me,” Nico said mildly. He let Brianna lean more of her weight on him.

“Nico thinks I’m cute,” Brianna announced. Nico laughed, still under her arm.

“Someone make sure she drinks water and gets home alright,” he told the table. They laughed. Nico carefully extracted himself from Brianna. “Text me tomorrow, okay?” he told Brianna.

Sorry about last night, she texted him in the morning, more than a little embarrassed. But you still owe me a drink, she added. She hadn’t really seen Nico again after he left her table, other than glimpses of him with teammates in the bar, rowdy and happy.

Happy birthday, Nico responded. Brianna waited for another message, watched the typing bubble appear, disappear, then appear again. No message came through, and Brianna set her phone back down with a huff and went to get ready for class. She was getting tired of whatever game this was.

When she picked her phone up again, she did have a new message from Nico after all. Sorry about the drink. Rain check? Maybe with dinner? it read.

Maybe there was no game after all.

And, baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name

Brianna and Nico took it slow. Dates when they could squeeze them in, sporadic texts and long hotel room phone calls when they couldn’t.

Brianna got tickets to a home game in early January and begged her best friend Lauren to come with her. She pointedly ignored the teasing. Lauren had been at the bar for her birthday a few months before and knew Brianna had been dating someone since then; she was smart enough to put two and two together.

“What if I just wanted to go to a game, huh?” Brianna asked, staring at her closet. She didn’t own much Devils gear still, and wearing the hoodie she’d stolen from Nico the week before seemed like a bad idea. She also ignored the unimpressed look she knew Lauren was shooting at her back. Brianna sighed and pulled a red sweater out of her closet. At least it was the right color, unlike Lauren’s bright blue Islanders jersey.

“Did you even tell Nico you’re coming to the game tonight?”

Brianna had not. She didn’t really know how to, though it felt stupid. She knew Nico was trying to keep this—whatever “this” was— close to his chest still, and that was okay. She was something separate from hockey to him, and going to the game felt like crossing a line, somehow. She didn’t want to push him into anything he didn’t want to do, just because she’d wanted to watch him play in person. She’d tell him after the game.

So nosebleeds with her best friend it was. It turned out to be a good game, despite the overtime loss. Nico got on the scoresheet with a goal and an assist, and Brianna shot him a quick “great game!” text as she and Lauren followed the tide of fans out of the Rock. There had been something mesmerizing about the way they’d all cheered for Nico when he’d scored, the way the city clearly loved their young star, their future. She was still thinking about it on the way home, lost in her thoughts until Lauren nudged with her elbow.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Brianna’s phone vibrated in her lap, momentarily sparing her from responding. It was a text from Nico, a simple smiley emoji and a red heart.

“Hey, do you wanna go to another game sometime?” Brianna asked.

She’d give anything to see Nico’s smile after he’d scored again.

Windows flung right open, autumn air Jacket round my shoulders is yours

Not long after that night in the bar, Nico took advantage of a full day off to drag Brianna out to Allamuchy State Park for a hike. It was late fall, closer to winter than to autumn at this point, but it was mild enough, weak sunlight cutting through the chilly breeze.

“I think you’re overestimating my fitness levels here, bud,” Brianna griped, several steps behind Nico and trying not to pant too loudly. Nico laughed, but stopped to allow Brianna to catch up, hands on his hips. Nico had picked an easy trail, not too long or hilly, but still, “Not all of us are professional athletes,” she said.

It did feel good to get moving after nearly an hour in the car, and, despite the mostly bare trees, it was pretty and peaceful, quiet this far from this city. It would be beautiful in the spring or summer.

“Sorry.” Nico sounded truly apologetic, but Brianna shot him one more glare for good measure. Nico started walking again, letting Brianna fall into step beside him. “I like hikes like this back home in the summers, but there never seems to be enough time there these days.” Brianna was probably imagining the way Nico’s accent thickened as he spoke, softly, though the woods around them were empty. Their hands brushed, and Brianna longed to twine her fingers with Nico’s.

“Home is Switzerland, yeah?” Brianna asked, although she knew the answer.

Nico smiled fondly, his eyes faraway. “Yeah, it’s beautiful there, with the mountains and the lakes. There’s nothing like it over here in the States.”

Brianna did take Nico’s hand in hers now. “I’d like to visit someday,” she said.

It was too bold. She and Nico were barely even dating, and yet she meant it. She wanted to see the place that had shaped Nico. Nico smiled at her and squeezed her hand once before letting it drop. They didn’t talk much more for the rest of the hike, a peaceful silence between them.

“Wish we could stay here forever,” Brianna mused as they approached Nico’s car.

But this late in the year the sun set earlier, and it was getting colder. Brianna shivered, and Nico raised his eyebrows at her. Without a word, he shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and tossed it over his car to Brianna.

“It’s not that cold,” she complained, but she pulled the jacket on before climbing in the car herself.

Nico rolled the windows down before pulling out his parking spot, fresh autumn air whipping through the car as they drove back towards the city.

The seasons were changing, and it all felt like the start of something to Brianna.

Back when we were card sharks, playing games I thought you were leading me on

The Devils were hosting a charity gala. Nico had asked Brianna to be his plus-one.

“It’s ‘black tie optional,’ whatever that means,” Nico told her, peering at his phone. Probably googling exactly what black tie optional meant.

They were sitting on Nico’s couch, Brianna’s feet in Nico’s lap. She nudged the hand holding his phone with her toes. Nico blinked up at her. His hair was messy from the hat he’d been wearing earlier, and Brianna was momentarily distracted by an overwhelming surge of fondness.

“I’ll have to buy a new dress,” she commented, instead of voicing her surprise that Nico had invited her at all. Their relationship was still pretty new. Nico valued his privacy, and Brianna had no problem keeping their relationship to themselves for a while longer. She hadn’t even met his teammates, other than Jack Hughes, that first day in the coffee shop. That barely counted.

Nico wasn’t deterred, oblivious to the beginning of a panicked spiral happening in Brianna’s head. “You can use my card,” he told her.

“That wasn’t my point, Hisch,” Brianna said, but she didn’t know what her point actually was. That, new dress or not, Brianna was never going to fit in? It didn’t matter. Brianna firmly reminded herself that this was a big step for them.

“Please?” Nico asked. “I want you there.”

Brianna sighed. Nico knew she was powerless when he begged like that.

“Fine, but I’m taking you up on using your card,” she told him.

Nico leaned across the couch to kiss her, and, for a moment, she forgot why she was even worried.

Then the night of the gala came, and all those fears came rushing back.

Brianna and Nico arrived together, Brianna in a new gown and on Nico’s arm. She trailed after him as he greeted teammates and mingled with donors. The names and faces all blurred together for Brianna, but Nico looked at ease, comfortable in his pressed suit. Most people didn’t pay Brianna much mind, which was mostly fine. It was on the fourth time that Nico introduced her as simply “my friend,” that she excused herself to find a drink. Jack Hughes, who’d been nearby, followed.

“You’re not old enough to drink,” she commented, leaning on the bar and trying to ignore Jack’s worried face.

“They wouldn’t card me,” he said confidently.

“They wouldn’t need to card you, everyone already knows how old you are,” she reminded him. If he was trying to distract her, it was working. She took a long drink from her glass. Jack gave her a look.

“Slow down, maybe?”

Brianna looked around for Nico. He was deep in conversation with someone she didn’t recognize. He glanced Brianna’s way, but he didn’t seem to see her. She took another drink.

Jack followed her gaze and grimaced. “Look, he’s crazy about you,” he said.

“Why is it that I’m always hearing that from you and not Nico?” Brianna said. “I think you’re the only one here that actually knows that Nico and I are together,” she added, thinking of every teammate she’d been introduced to as a friend, Nico keeping a careful distance between them, a platonic hand on her elbow.

“Nico just likes his privacy,” Jack said, but Brianna could tell the argument sounded weak even to him.

Brianna finished her drink and left the empty glass on the bar. She cast another look towards Nico. He had moved on to another conversation. He didn’t seem to be missing her at all. She forced a smile in Jack’s direction.

“You know what? I’m not sure I’m feeling well,” she said. “I think I’m going to duck out, you’ll tell Nico for me, won’t you?”

Brianna didn’t wait for an answer, just brushed past Jack and headed for the door. She ignored Jack calling her name, but he didn’t chase her. No one else tried to stop her.

Brianna had to call a car to pick her up, and she stood shivering in her gown while she waited. Still, no one followed her. She wondered how long it would be until Nico even noticed she’d left. She was silent on the ride back to Nico’s apartment, where her car and a change of clothes were. She checked her phone a few times on the way. Nothing from Nico.

She felt numb as she left her gown laying across the foot of Nico’s bed. She didn’t know how to feel. She didn’t blame Nico, not really. She couldn’t begin to understand the pressure he was under, the future of a franchise. Of course he wanted to protect what they had.

She just hadn’t expected him to do it like that, or for it to hurt so much when he did.

She climbed into her car and drove. She didn’t have a destination, nowhere to go, just anywhere else. It was late, not many cars on the road except Brianna. Her radio was off, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She expected to cry, almost, but no tears came.

But then you called, showed your hand I turned around before I hit the tunnel

Brianna didn’t know how long she had been driving when her phone rang. Finally? Too soon? She didn’t know what she was going to say when she answered. She fumbled for her phone where she’d tossed it in her passenger seat.

She answered without checking the caller ID. She knew who it was, anyway.

“Hello?”

“Bri?” Nico sounded out of breath, panicked. “Where’d you go? I tried to find you at the gala, but Jack said you went home, but you’re not here, and I-” Nico cut himself off and made a strangled noise that almost sounded like he was choking back a sob. When Brianna didn’t respond, he went on. “Please, I need to know you’re okay. Please. Just- will you come home?”

Home. How strange of him to use that word. There was no “home” for Brianna and Nico. Brianna had thought it was just “not yet,” but maybe it was “not ever.” They lived two separate lives, that much was clear.

“Nico, I don’t know,” Brianna said. “I think I just need a little space.” Brianna turned on her blinker; she was going to need gas soon. She should go back to her own apartment. She turned left, towards Nico’s apartment, without thinking about it. “

No, no, please, I want to talk to you. Bri, please.” Nico’s accent was stronger like this, thick with worry.

Brianna sighed.

“I’m bad at this,” Nico said. He’d said that the second time they’d met. “Please,” he said again, his voice just a whisper now.

Brianna pulled into a parking spot in the garage behind Nico’s building. She threw her car in park, but didn’t make any move to get out. Didn’t say anything, either. She listened to Nico’s shaky breathing on the other end of the line. She could leave again. There was nothing stopping her, Nico didn’t even know she’d made it back to his building. Brianna took a deep breath.

“I’ll be up in five.”

She didn’t hang up, even as she slammed her car door and made the now-familiar trek to Nico’s front door for the third time that night. She almost expected Nico to have the door open when she got there, waiting for her.

“Are you really gonna make me knock?” she asked instead, staring at the closed door.

Nico fumbled something on the other end of the line, and she heard him mumbling German curses before he hung up. A moment later, she heard the lock turn, and the door swung open. Nico stood in the doorway, still in his dress pants, but missing a shirt, his eyes red like—

“Have you been crying?” Brianna blurted.

Nico scrubbed at his face. “I was worried.”

Brianna pushed her way inside and shut the door behind her. She took Nico’s face in her hands, thumbs brushing his still-damp cheekbones. Nico wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Oh, Nics, babe, I’m so sorry,” Brianna murmured.

That got Nico to look at her. “What? No, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I said or did to upset you, but I know that I did something, and I just don’t know how to fix it.”

Brianna dropped her hands and took a step back. Nico looked uncertain.

“You don’t know?”

Nico hesitated. “No?”

Brianna laughed, but her eyes were filling with tears. She furiously brushed them away. It was somehow worse that Nico had been downplaying their relationship without thinking about it. None of it meant anything to him.

“I just- You were with me, then at the bar with Jack, and then you were gone! I thought you’d just gotten overwhelmed, but you weren’t here when I got home.”

That word again. Home. This was Nico’s home, his world, and he didn’t have any room for Brianna in it.

He was still shirtless, but for the first time, Brianna couldn’t stand to look at him.

“Nico,” she said. She met his eyes. “You spent all night introducing me as your friend.” Across from her, Nico went pale. “Is that how you think of me? Just some girl? Do you bring every girl you’ve fucked around to events like that?” Nico flinched at Brianna’s bluntness, but she wasn’t finished. “Do any of your teammates even know you had a girlfriend? Your family?”

She watched Nico register her use of the word “had,” mouthing it slowly to himself before he was rushing over to her.”

“You have to know-”

“No, I don’t! I don’t have to know anything!” Brianna was close to yelling now, no longer carefully controlling her emotions.

“No, no, no, shit, no. I didn’t even think-” He cut himself off. “I didn’t even realize-” Nico stopped again, at a loss for words.

“I should go,” Brianna said finally.

Nico threw himself between Brianna and the door. “Don’t. Please. I’m sorry, and I owe you so much more than that, but right now I can’t fucking think.” He mumbled something to himself under his breath, but Brianna couldn’t catch it. Nico scrubbed his hands across his face again, frustrated this time.

Brianna thought of him opening the door, eyes still red from crying.

“Nico, I think we both need some sleep, babe,” Brianna said gently.

“Stay. Please, please, stay. I can’t- I don’t want to lose you.” Nico took a deep breath. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Brianna didn’t move, didn’t say anything. She couldn’t, frozen in Nico’s entryway. Nico laughed, a humorless sound.

“I didn’t want to scare you off. I think I went too far in the other direction.” He took a step forward, looking desperate. “We were taking it slow, but I’m fucking crazy about you, Brianna.”

“We were taking it slow because I thought that’s what you wanted!” Brianna burst out.

Nico looked startled. He recovered quick enough to say, “Well, I can hardly go around introducing you as the woman I want to marry someday, now, can I?”

He took another step forward, tentatively reaching for Brianna’s hand. She settled her hands on his hips, instead, and pulled him closer, closing the gap between them completely. She laughed in spite of herself.

“Honestly, Hisch, do you really think I would’ve stuck around after that hike if I weren’t completely head over heels for you, too?” she asked.

“That hike wasn’t even that bad!” Nico protested, already leaning down to kiss Brianna slow and deep. He pulled away to catch his breath after a long minute, resting his forehead against Brianna’s. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Brianna pretended to think. Nico dug his fingers into her sides. “I guess I can forgive you,” she said, squirming away from Nico with a breathless giggle.

Later, tangled up on his couch, Nico spoke again.

“Y’know, I don’t really bring anyone around to events,” he said. “Ever.” His gaze on Brianna was intense, like he still needed her to understand that she was important to him.

“I know, Nico, I know,” she murmured.

“The guys have been giving me shit for weeks because they hadn’t met you yet,” he added.

Brianna laughed. “Even Jack?”

One day, she’d probably have to thank Jack for making sure she and Nico met. Maybe.

Nico laughed, too. “No, he’s just smug as hell that he met you first.”

Years ago, we were just inside Barefoot in the kitchen Sacred new beginnings

The seasons changed, then again, and again. Spring came, and hockey season ended. Nico went home to Switzerland for the long summer, but he came back to Jersey, back to Brianna, in the end.

“Missed me?” he had teased. Brianna was too busy trying to get his shirt off to reply.

The Devils named Nico captain. He spent the season injured, and it ended with more disappointments than victories.

“I’m so proud of you,” Brianna told him, curled up beneath a mountain of blankets in bed after he’d cleaned out his locker.

Nico moved out of his apartment in the city, and Brianna moved into a house with him in the suburbs. It took very little convincing on Brianna’s part for them to get a puppy, “to keep me company while you’re away on roadies.” Nico made her promise that he at least got to pick the puppy’s name. (He ended up losing that argument, too.)

Nico was driving home from an afternoon game when Brianna noticed that they were not, in fact, headed towards home.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

Nico didn’t take his eyes off the road. “You don’t know where we are?”

Brianna took a moment to peer out the window. The streets did seem familiar in the twilight, but then, so did most of Newark, in the abstract way that came from living there for years. But- “Is that your old building?”

Nico pulled into an empty spot on the street. He stared out the windshield at the high-rise in front of them.

“How many years has it been?” he asked.

Brianna knew he knew the answer, but she told him anyway. “Four years.” Their anniversary—of the first date, not the time he’d ghosted her after meeting her—had been the week before.

“Lots of firsts in that apartment,” he mused. Brianna squinted at him, trying to follow his train of thought.

“First fight,” she teased. Once she’d thought that night would be their breaking point, but it turned out to be just the beginning.

Nico grinned at that. “First time,” he said back. He gave himself away by blushing.

Brianna reached across the car to take Nico’s hand, and he let her. “Lots more firsts ahead of us,” she said. Nico smiled at her, eyes soft. “First kid, first Cup…”

Nico smacked a hand over Brianna’s mouth. “Shh!” he said. He didn’t move his hand. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“About which part?” Brianna had to shove his hand off to speak.

Nico gave Brianna a look. “Yes.”

“All I’m saying is that there could be rings in both of our futures,” she said. She’d been teasing Nico about wanting a ring more and more, but it was just teasing. She knew there wasn’t any rush. Mostly.

“I could leave you here and make you walk home,” Nico threatened, already pulling away from the curb.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Besides, Brianna could easily get any other Devils player to pick her up. Nico was their captain, but Brianna was their favorite.

Stopped at a red light, Nico leaned across the console to kiss Brianna’s cheek.

“Of course I wouldn’t, I’ve still got to give you that ring.”

#cait writes things #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier fic #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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ghoulfriendfangs · 2 years

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•─ Midsummer ☾ Masquerade ─•

Day 1: Orgasm Denial with Asra

{wc: ~850} {top/dom!mc, bottom/sub!asra, orgasm denial, a little bit of public / risk of being caught, some light comic relief}

Asra can’t help but act a bit mischievous and needy around you

This fic is a part of @the-midsummer-masquerade

Asra’s chest rose, and fell, and fluttered as his breath hitched. He swayed in the hammock of your private room, at just the perfect position for you to eat him out while resting on a cushion of your own.

He tasted a little sweeter tonight, had he prepared for this? You imagined him mixing a potion of his favorite fruits, drinking it in the hopes of imprsssing you… you’d best appreciate his efforts.

“You taste delicious,” you praise, and he mumbles his thanks. He rests his feet on your shoulders, occasionally teasing you by rubbing against your head with them, messing with your hair.

“But you act naughty.”

“Th-thought you said before that’s what made me so cute.”

You suck on his clit, causing him to gasp and to shake the hammock, before pulling off with a pop.

“It’s adorable… but I still might punish you for it, you know?”

“Oh? How so?”

“Maybe I’ll be mischievous right back.”

His eyes, though wet from the pleasure, twinkle at that. “I’d like to see that.”

“A-Ah, Ah, Ah,” Asra whimpers, rocking into your mouth in such a way that his hammock begins to sway, almost like a pendant.

“I’m close, I’m gonna cum…”

You pull back, a smirk on your face.

He sits up, looking at you with an adorably confused face. “H-huh? What’s wrong…?”

“Oh, nothing is wrong, I’m just thirsty.”

“O-oh,” he folds his legs, ignoring the harsh throbbing, “can I get you a water?”

You stretch nonchalantly, “nah, I’m going to go to the bar and get us some shots.”

His eyes sparkle as he catches on. “Now, don’t tell me you’re teasing me…”

“Teasing you? Now why would I do that?”

You stand up.

“I’ll get you some, what do you want?”

“I’d like to cum.”

You scratch your chin. “Hmm… convince me.”

He gets out of the hammock, and kneels before you.

“Please… let me cum…?”

You lean down, caressing his face… and then sidestep him. He stands up, quickly following you into the hall.

As you pass the other rooms, hearing the sound of countless guests enjoying the festivities, Asra wraps his arms around you like a needy little puppy, burying his face in your neck.

“What’s the matter?” You ask, trying to walk as casually as possible with a magician slowly crushing you in a hug.

“You didn’t finish. Now I might be grumpy.”

“You? Grumpy?? With me???”

“It could happen…”

“…”

Asra whines, snuggling into your neck and leaving ticklish little kisses.

“…please let me c-“

You swing open a door, a broom closet, and pull him inside.

He smiles mischievously, he knew you wouldn’t torture him for long.

“Alright you little vixen… but I’m going to make you pay me back, alright?”

“Anything you desire.”

The closet is a lot more awkward to maneuver around than your private room. Asra leans against one wall, bracing himself while you sit on the floor, hands on the back of his thighs. It’s cramped, but in a strange way it thrills you, combined with knowing that someone walking by might overhear you, or worse, open the door.

That’s how the two of you spend the next ten minutes, aside from occasionally switching positions to keep from getting stiff. Asra covers his mouth to mute his little whimpers as you tease his clit… but you always pull away just as he’s nearing cumming.

And it’s when he’s nearly getting close again that you hear humming from down the hall.

It sounds like another guest, from the sounds of it a rather drunk one, too.

He gets closer, and you pull off Asra, who whines in complaint.

“Hush, I think-“

The doorknob starts wiggling, and it opens up just a crack- when Asra dramatically throws his leg against it, shutting it again.

“H-hey, c-mon, I really gotta wee…”

“This is a broom closet,” Asra says in a monotone, “so go away.”

“Oh, ok.”

You hear bootsteps, and Asra sighs. With his leg on the door, he’s left in a very… revealing position.

“Good boy,” you praise, tracing a nail up his thigh, “you sure took care of him.”

“I just don’t want anymore interruptions. I’ve already waited long enough, don’t you think?”

“You know what, you’re right. For your good deed, I’ll let you cum.”

You blow a kiss over his dripping wet heat.

“Wait. Why are you in a broom closet?”

“…”

Asra clears his throat.

“Go away or I’ll hex you.”

“Oh, ok.”

You hear the stranger walk away again… and you both can’t suppress laughter. It takes you both a minute to calm down and stop giggling.

Eventually you pull yourselves together enough to continue.

“Mmmnh, do you know something?” He asks.

“I’ve never been to the midsummer masquerade before, actually.”

“Really? But you seem to know so much about it.”

“Yeah, I heard stories, and I’d read about it… but I never wanted to go. Not until I could bring you with me.”

You smile, pressing a kiss on his clit.

“Is it everything you dreamed of?”

“It is… and more… could we… could we do this often?”

“Hmm… maybe not in a closet.”

“You know what I meant.”

“I do. And we can, Asra.”

#the arcana #spicy #asra #o denial #public #vesuviaafterdark #midsummer masquerade

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ctrlaltsoob · 2 years

Text

16. birds of a feather - take a hint (csb)

summary: worrying about anything else couldn’t matter less to huh y/n, who cares so desperately at beating the one and only choi soobin in absolutely everything she can. although maybe there are some things than only can take the trophy for first…

or where two people fail to realise that the line between love and hate is very thin, even though they might be the smartest in their studies.

warnings: swearing, empty threats, it gets kinda cute (?) at some parts idk man how do you describe things, mentions of kissing and sex but there’s no actual smut

a/n: results day went well God is so good😁

15. true friendship | masterlist | 17. bruno mars

more under the cut [wc. 2.3k]

are you really about to do this? it hasn’t even been a week since soobin spontaneously appeared at your front door and offered a truce between you, and yet you’re sitting in the the back of your parents’ car on the way to his new house, a cage for his infamous pet secured next to you. you’re not sure who’s idea it was to invite your family round for the housewarming, but you’re one hundred percent sure that you’d rather be going anywhere else than there.

when your parents knock on the door, gifts in their hands, it’s soobin who welcomes you inside. you don’t miss the way he stiffens when his dad tells him to help you with bringing odi into the house, nor do you miss how he sharply inhales when your hand brushes against his as you pass him the bag full of odi’s toys. it is strange, however, how he drags you around to greet all the aunties and uncles invited over to the house, hands pushing at your shoulders as you unwillingly drag your feet along.

“why do you have the whole country in your house?” you grumble, heart dropping when you see another pair of people walk through the front door. he only shrugs, standing up to drag you over and say hello. “these better be the last people arriving.”

“you know how my mom is,” he sighs, watching as you down the last of your drink as if you’re out drinking with friends. “there’s still more people on their way.”

as you reluctantly trudge your feet across the cool marble floor, soobin’s hand tugs at your wrist. you pretend that you don’t see the prying eyes of the adults staring at you two interacting, curious looks apparent on all their faces. the way he’s so quick to nudge you to remind you to smile and act all courteous doesn’t help your case at all. at this rate, you two will definitely be the subject of their gossip sessions.

when you’ve finally finished greeting the last of the late comers, soobin scoffs as he watches you make a beeline for his couch, immediately collapsing into the puffy pillows. and when you motion for another drink, he finds himself complying.

“unbelievable,” he says, watching as you shoo him away with your hands. “this is my house, you know.”

“i shouldn’t have come here,” you mutter to yourself, ignoring the way he rolls his eyes. “too many people.”

“and how do you think i feel?” he waves his hands around as he speaks. it reminds you of one of those inflatable balloon figures and you have to try your best to not laugh. “this is the worst situation possible.”

you figure you’ve had enough of interacting with him, and instead make your way to the smaller room where odi’s cage has been temporarily placed. currently, he’s fast asleep, his little body curled up inside of the hut. and although you had him in your care for just over a month, he’s still as cute as you thought he was when you first met him.

“are you going to pay more attention to odi or me?”

soobin’s voice brings you back to reality. turning around to face him, he’s leaning back on a countertop arms crossed as he watches you crouch next to the cage and fawn over the sleeping animal. you’re about to reply to him, when one of the younger kids come running up to you.

“y/n, y/n!” you recognise him as soobin’s younger cousin. “are you soobin’s girlfriend?”

the question has you frozen for a moment, before you have to fight back the urge to laugh. you look up at soobin, whose face is flushed with red.

“no, i’m not,” you say, and you watch as the boy’s face falls before it forms into a look of confusion. he looks no older than three, and he looks so cute that you want to pinch his cheeks. “why? what makes you think that?”

“my mom was talking about it with her friends,” he confesses, brows still furrowed as if he’s trying to solve a difficult puzzle. “she said you look cute together.”

you have to try your best to not gag, instead smiling akwardly as soobin clamps his hand around his cousin’s face. “i think that’s enough now, hm?” soobin picks the boy up in his arms, ruffling his hair which makes him giggle. “what would aunty say if she knew you were going around and embarassing people?”

the kid only blinks, staring up at his older cousin with wide eyes. soobin walks into the main living room and you trail behind him, surprised at how good he is at calming children down. you’ve seen so many different sides of choi soobin in the past few weeks, and it messes with your brain because it feels almost illegal to see him not live up to the image you have of him in your head. soobin gently lets him down, holding his hand as he stands on his legs.

“you shouldn’t tell everyone what someone says,” he reminds him softly, crouching down so that they’re both at eye level. “it can make people uncomfortable.”

“oh,” the boy replies, head dipping in shame. he’s so cute, you think. “i’m sorry y/n.”

“it’s okay,” you reassure him, a smile on your face. his face lights up as he hears you, mouth twisting into a wide smile. so cute.

“go play with the others,” soobin pats his head and he nods, a single dimple appearing on his cheek as he smiles. as he runs off into the garden, you find yourself staring at the six foot something man before you.

“what?,” he blinks, sitting in the chair next to you. “sorry about that, by the way. he can be a little too straight forward sometimes.”

“don’t worry about it,” you say dismissively. “he’s so cute. i want to pinch his cheeks.”

“don’t tell me you’re one of those people who have immense baby fever,” he scoffs, and you frown. “kids are cute, but they’re so annoying. could never deal with them.”

“but you just did, though?” you tilt your head and soobin looks at you, confused. “you’re good with them, i mean.”

“oh right,” he blinks, suddenly finding the flowers on the coffee table interesting. “i could never have my own, though.”

you hum in agreement, looking into the garden where most of the people are. it’s good weather outside, perfect for a gathering like this one. it’s just strange that you’re actually at this particular gathering, sitting on the couch in the house of a man you’ve fought with countless times before.

the day continues on, and you find yourself sticking around soobin more than you thought you would. you try your best to not roll your eyes and make snarky comments at every little thing he does, because there are people around. at some point yeonjun and beomgyu arrive with their families, and you find the four of you sitting in soobin’s room, away from all the people.

“you still have to explain to me how this happened,” beomgyu nudges your shoulder, breaking away your attention from your phone. you look at him in confusion, and he gestures around him. “you know, why you’re actually being nice to him, and vice versa.”

“who said i was being nice to him?” you scoff adjusting yourself on his bed. currently, yeonjun and soobin are playing games on his ps5, while you and beomgyu spectate. well, more like pretend to pay attention while you do fuck all on your phones. soobin only managed to find one extra chair, leaving you to sit on his bed. “this is what you call ‘growing up’.”

“what part of you is grown?” beomgyu snorts and you hit him lightly on the arm. “i didn’t even know you were supposed to be here.”

“you do know that our parents are close friends, right? as in our-children-are-born-a-month-apart close?” you look at him weirdly and he raises his hands. “my mom saw him when he came over to drop off odi and went crazy, talking about how she’s ‘so glad we made up’ and some other shit like that.”

beomgyu pulls a face. “you didn’t tell me how you made up, y/n.”

“kiss and make up,” you joke, but beomgyu doesn’t seem to realise that and his eyes suddenly look like they’re about to pop out his head.

“you kissed him?!” his voice is loud and it hurts your ears. it attracts the attention of soobin and yeonjun, who were previously very absorbed in their game. you have to hit him again to get him to shut up, but even then his mouth hangs wide open in shock. “you’re moving too fast. stop it.”

“i did not kiss him,” you hiss, voice dropping as you say the last bit. “i would rather die.”

“then why does he act like that towards you?” he furrows his brows, and when you make a face that says you don’t understand, he waves his hands around wildly. “you know, like how he’s so?”

“so what?” you exasperate, patience running thin. he gestures back and forth between you and soobin, who’s refocused on his game. “choi beomgyu, what on earth are you on about?”

“might be the crazy talking, but he acts like he likes you.”

“and what makes you think that?”

beomgyu takes a deep breath. “well firstly, he’s a bit too comfortable with you. like, i saw him leaning into you when we were sitting on the little stone steps outside, which by the way, is weird in itself that he sat next to you. secondly,” he speaks quickly, pausing to take another breath. “he’s always giving or offering you things. i overheard you talking earlier and i swear he said you could sleep in his bed if you’re that tired. like, hello? that is not normal.”

“yeah, i think that’s the crazy talking,” you say after a long silence. choi soobin? liking you? never in a million years. “are you sure you didn’t drink?”

“oh fuck off,” he rolls his eyes. “emphasis on the last bit, by the way. why couldn’t he just offer you the spare room? his house is massive.”

“because it’s not furnished,” you say, recalling how he took you on a house tour when you arrived. “unless he wanted me to sleep on the floor, then he would tell me to sleep there.”

“the old choi soobin would make you sleep outside,” he points out, watching the way you purse your lips together. “but somehow, he’s offered his own fucking bed. if you guys didn’t fuck in it, or at the very least kiss, then i don’t know how else to explain whatever that is.”

“i don’t even know how it happened,” you lie, burying your head in your hands to avoid the judgemental stare he’s been giving you. “he’s confusing me too. you’re not the only one.”

“how is he confusing you?” beomgyu quizzes, glancing at the screaming duo in front of the tv. “you’re almost as bad as him.”

his words catch your attention. “what? no i’m not. give me one good example.”

“preparing more food with him in the kitchen. and fucking giggling as you do so,” he speaks quickly to prevent you from cutting him off. “anything that you do with him, you’re giggling, to be honest. just anything.”

“how specific, thank you,” you reply sarcastically. “you do realise that we can’t be fighting in front of all these people? have to be somewhat nice to each other. might have to dial it down though, because his cousin asked if we were dating.”

“doesn’t that speak volumes?” beomgyu exasperates. he finds it unbelievable how you don’t see what he’s trying to say. “you’re so slow.”

“shut up,” you mutter. you feel a headache oncoming. “it’s his fault. too friendly too fast.”

beomgyu doesn’t say anything, because he’s glad that you at least recognise that. it’s not that he’s against you two becoming friends, he just doesn’t want you to rush into things and burn too quickly — for lack of a better phrasing.

he watches soobin offer to help you bring up some food as you ask everyone what they’d like. soobin holds up the controller to let him know that he can play, and when he slides into the chair next to yeonjun, the two of them exchange a look, the door closing with a soft thud.

“i can’t be the only who sees it,” he starts, and yeonjun immediately catches on. “this isn’t gonna end well, is it?”

“not unless he brings it up first,” the oldest agrees, turning in the chair to crack his back. “y/n would never say anything, would she?”

“nah she’d just ignore him and let it go to shit again,” he sighs, another bunch of laughter erupting from downstairs. “not sure if we can do anything about it though.”

yeonjun clicks his tongue, because he knows that soobin’s too stubborn to admit to his wrongs and that you’re too adamant to give way and let go of the past. still, he’s glad that you two have managed to find some sort of common ground now. he just hopes you talk it out and don’t let it ruin itself like you did last time.

taglist (open): @bergandysam @beepbopbee @minbit @shwizhies @glyxiebear @lowxkie

#choi soobin x reader #soobin x reader #soobin smau #soobin fic #txt fic #tomorrow x together #social media au #choi soobin #soobin: take a hint #ficscafe

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