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obaex · 3 months

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(not) my girl - rafe cameron

summary: if rafe cameron is so sure he doesn't need to be seen with you at midsummers, you are more than happy to oblige (or) the time you drove rafe insane with jealousy.

word count: 3.4k

a/n: inspired by this post by the sweet @writingsbychlo ♡

You were curled up on Rafe’s lap, head resting on his shoulder with his arms circled around you and his fingers mindlessly tracing patterns on your thigh as he talked with his friends around the firepit in his backyard.

You had been hooking up for a few months and recently you felt like you were right on the cusp of him asking you to make things official, exclusive. You were spending nearly every night together and every time he asked to talk or wanted to hang out you got your hopes up that this would be the time he brought it up, only to be crushed over and over again.

Deep down, you knew how Rafe felt. People who were ‘just hooking up’ didn’t beg you to stay every morning, didn’t make room in their dresser for you, didn’t wake you up with featherlight kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, face breaking into a ridiculous smile when your eyes fluttered open to find his drinking you in, they didn’t call you during a panic attack after fighting with their dad, pleading to hear your voice as the only thing that would calm them down. No, you were pretty sure you knew exactly how this boy felt, but you wanted him to acknowledge it. You ached to hear him say with pride ‘that’s my girl’, to mark you as his own.

Your eyes flitted across the fire to your best friend Olivia who wiggled her eyebrows at the sight of you and Rafe together, all too aware of the situationship you were in and how badly you wanted him. You blushed and rolled your eyes back at her, just trying to enjoy this small moment where he showed his affection for you in front of other people. She winked at you before interrupting the conversation.

“Sooo, who is everyone taking to Midsummers?”

You shot her a look that screamed what the hell are you doing!? You were still holding out hope that Rafe was going to ask you, even though it was less than a week away. Maybe he had an elaborate, last-minute surprise planned?

“Feel pretty good about my date” Kelce murmured, pressing a kiss to Olivia’s cheek as she giggled. “What about you Top, still intent on macking on Rafe’s sister?” he asked. Topper threw an empty beer can at him as everyone laughed.

“I don’t know why we even bother with dates” Rafe said. “We’re just gonna dick around together all night anyway, there’s no point.” He took a swig of his beer without meeting your gaze. You felt your cheeks warm in embarrassment and a painful ache in your throat as you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spring forward. You met Olivia’s gaze again and she nodded encouragingly towards Rafe.

“W-what about me, Cameron?” you asked, trying to mask your feelings, to sound chill as you poked him in the side.

He looked at you sweetly, “C’mon and say what when my dad asks about you? ‘Hey dad, here’s the girl I’ve been sneaking through the back door every night and smashing while you and Rose are three doors down? Hard pass.” He laughed, focusing back on his beer and his friends as you felt his hand slide off your leg.

You allowed yourself to be genuinely upset for three days.

You didn’t sleep at Tanneyhill for the first time in months, you didn’t even answer his texts which grew increasingly more insistent the more you ignored them. You stayed home, you cried, and you contemplated what the fuck you were doing with your life. Was that really all you were to him – just someone he was sneaking around with? Did you somehow become that girl, too naïve and too stupid to see that she wasn’t and would never be anything more than a hookup?

You thought about the way Rafe reached for you and held you in his sleep, the way his hands ghosted over your body, the things he’d whisper in your ear, the times you’d ridden shotgun in his truck or he’d taken you to his favorite spot on the beach… Your heart was so sure about him, but your head throbbed with the echo of his words.

You and Olivia talked incessantly about it, dissecting everything he’d said. “Maybe he just needs a little push, a little… motivation?” she suggested, and the more you talked about it, the more you realized she was right.

If Rafe Cameron was so sure he didn’t need to be seen with you at Midsummers, you were more than happy to oblige.

The last of the hot summer sun was settling over the ocean as you climbed the front steps of the Island Club in daring three-inch heels; the added height gave your figure a perfect sway that simply begged people to watch you as you walked by. Your dress had a thigh-high slit, open back, and was the perfect color for your skin tone, illuminating you; the neckline was devilishly tantalizing, giving the desired effect of drawing all eyes to the dazzling diamond pendant that reflected the setting sun.

Rafe heard you before he saw you; rather, he heard a sea of murmurs rippling through the crowd which drew his attention to the doors just as you walked through by yourself, essentially announcing to the island that you were alone for the night.

“Geezus” he heard Topper mutter under his breath as he took you in. Normally, he would have known better and normally Rafe would have put his head through a wall for glaring at you the way he was, but even though his fists clenched in response and he wanted to turn and say something to him, he simply couldn’t take his eyes off of you; “Geezus” didn’t even begin to cover it.

You were always undeniably beautiful to Rafe: when you wore his oversized sweatshirt around the fire pit, when you were makeup-less in your wet bikini at the beach, and especially when you were wearing next to nothing tangled up in his limbs and his soft sheets, but the dress you had on, the way your hair shone in the last rays of the sun, the way you were positively radiating had his pulse throbbing in his neck, his adam’s apple bobbing and his palms sweating. Fuck, I am so happy she’s mine he thought to himself, smiling and moving to walk towards you as your eyes met his across the crowd.

You were glowing at him and sent him a discreet smile as you greeted people and made your way in his direction. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on you, to have you at his side so everyone knew you were his. You approached your friends, dropping a kiss on Topper and Kelce’s cheeks before doing the same to Rafe. You made to move past him quickly, intent on talking to Olivia when he grabbed your hand.

“Hey, hold up you-you look…” he started to say, trying and struggling to find the words to capture the way his heart was pounding in his chest.

Your wide eyes met his expectantly and just when he opened his mouth to speak, they flitted over his shoulder.

“Oh! Sorry, Rafey! Just saw someone I want to catch up with, I’ll see you later” and without another word you walked away, leaving Rafe Cameron, the King of Kildare staring and stuttering after you.

You were walking away from him? he thought. You had seemed so adamant about this whole Midsummers thing, dropping hints about going together and now here he was, practically ready to get down on one knee at the sight of you, and you were walking away from him? He was speechless. He turned to watch you go… right into the arms of another man. He looked to be about your age, the same height and a similar build as Rafe, because of course Rafe was sizing him up, how could he not? This guy had his paws all over his girl. And then, after a moment’s realization, he thought darkly, she’s not your girl…

You had greeted this guy with a huge hug, and he’d nearly lifted you off the ground, now he had your full attention and you were laughing at something he said, the most sweet and perfect sound that Rafe wanted only for himself.

As everyone took their seat for dinner, you intentionally positioned yourself across the table from Rafe. The slight of not sitting next to him where he could run his fingers up your thigh or tangle them in your own left him fidgeting instead, buttoning and unbuttoning his jacket and swirling his drink. What the fuck did I used to do with my hands? he thought angrily.

You paid him no mind, instead, leaning forward on your elbows and toying with the diamond pendant around your neck, fingering it, twirling it and sliding it back and forth on its chain.

“Holy DIAMOND, girl!” Olivia said as she took note of your necklace and leaned over to get a closer look. “Is it new, where is it from?” her eyes shot from you to Rafe and back again.

He glared at you both over the rim of his glass as he took a deep gulp, trying to act unphased but also extremely curious to hear your answer knowing damn well it wasn’t from him.

Your eyes flitted to Rafe briefly before you leaned towards Olivia, lowering your voice, but not so low that he couldn’t hear you. “It was… a gift from… someone special” you said winking conspiratorially at her.

Rafe choked on his drink just as someone was standing up at the front of the crowd to make a speech, shifting everyone’s attention and interrupting the slew of words that nearly poured out of his mouth.

Who the fuck on Kildare fucking Island was buying his girl jewelry? he thought. And then, again, he reminded himself, she’s not your girl… the thought making his whole body tense, rigid and taught in anger and frustration.

For the next 20 minutes, all he could do was stare at you as you twiddled that ridiculous necklace in your fingers, imagining what it would be like to rip it off of you and replace it with something twice as nice. He was mentally calculating how much he would spend and how quickly he could get it when JJ Maybank passed by their table. Rafe had a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue until he watched JJ do a double take at you and stop in his tracks.

Don’t do it, Maybank, Rafe thought. Don’t you dare do it.

He watched JJ eye you and the distance between you and Rafe and, deeming it safe, peddled back, pulling a glass of champagne off his tray and handing it to you with a flourish. He knelt down next to your seat and when you turned to talk to him, it left JJ perfectly eye level with your cleavage. He was whispering something to you and you rested your hand on his bicep as you leaned forward to hear him. Rafe could see you blushing, and he watched Maybank take in every greedy eyeful of you. Rafe stood up so abruptly, it knocked his chair over and rattled the plates on the table. Everyone looked up at him, including you, and for the first time that night he had your full attention as your eyes widened at his reaction.

“YN, inside, let’s go” he said simply, walking to your side of the table.

You raised an eyebrow at him and his demanding tone.

“And Maybank if you don’t stop staring at her tits, I will put your face through this table.”

JJ quickly stood up and backed away with his hands raised in surrender as Rafe approached you.

“Rafe we were just—” you started.

“— Inside. Now” he said, taking you forcefully by the arm and leading you inside and into the locker room.

“Rafe! Come on! Stop it! I want to spend the night with my friends, I don’t know what you possibly have to be mad at” you said in resistance.

And that was the very last straw for him.

“WHAT I HAVE TO BE MAD AT?!” he said, incredulous, nearly shouting. “Where do I even begin with you!? You blow me off all week, then you waltz in here looking like an absolute bombshell, wearing next to nothing – I swear to God, I’ve seen you in bikinis with more material - every guy here is leering at you. Then you’re talking to that jackass who had his hands all over you…” he said, exasperated.

At this point he was pacing, his voice continuing to rise in anger and frustration. “…And then Maybank?! Maybank of all people?! He was flirting with you right in front of me. Was it to make me jealous? Is that what this is all about? Because I’m about to lose my fucking mind YN” he said running his hands through his hair, giving you sick pleasure knowing it took him probably an hour to style it. A surprised if not amused look rested on your face as you continued to twirl your necklace in your fingers.

“And who the fuck gave you that” he pointed accusingly at the diamond in your hand, not giving you a single second to respond, “No. Absolutely not. Take it off. Right now” he said, walking briskly towards you in an effort to do it himself.

You held out a hand to stop him.

“I don’t know what the big deal is Rafe” you said innocently. “What difference does it make? I’m just the girl you’re sneaking through your back door every night to smash” you shrugged, your eyes burning at him.

His eyes widened as he heard his own words on your lips.

“No, that’s – that’s not – I didn’t mean” he stuttered.

You gave him a vicious look as you watched the gears turn in his head and he tried to string a sentence together.

“Look, I didn’t mean it like that – I shouldn’t have – what I meant was – ahh, fuck it” he said, taking a step forward and closing the distance between you in an instant, one hand holding your face firmly as he pushed you against the lockers and the other coming to rest on the wall beside you, caging you in against him as he pressed his lips bruisingly to yours, devouring you, just like he’d wanted to do all night.

You wanted to stay strong, to argue, to tell him he wasn’t going to win you over like this. But he was. He so so was as he deepened the kiss almost instantly and the pad of his thumb ran across your cheek sending a shiver through your body. When he finally felt you relent and kiss him back, winding your arms around his neck and pulling yourself flush to him he let out a small groan that almost made you forget the whole point of tonight. Almost.

You pulled back, leaving not even an inch between you. The feeling of you kissing him had calmed him down significantly. His breathing had slowed but his cheeks were still flushed and his hair was mussed. He lingered there, his nose brushing yours as he stroked your cheek.

“You’re my girl” he whispered finally.

“Are you asking or telling?” you whispered back.

“Do I really need to ask, princess?” he said, meeting your gaze with his own.

You raised an eyebrow at him threateningly.

He rolled his eyes and said in a sigh, “Be mine?”

You bit your bottom lip and pretended to think about it. “Gosh, I don’t know” you said, pressing a slow kiss to his lips “M’might have to think about it” you said, pressing another kiss there, lingering longer “Mm’might need some convincing” you said, kissing him again and running your hands up his chest.

His voice was low but steady, “I will take you home right now and convince you as many times as you need me to” he said, kissing you back through a smile.

“Deal” you replied sweetly.

You moved to leave but he didn’t let you go and when you met his gaze, his brow was furrowed, his eyes searching yours. “I am serious though, about this, about you” he said. “I’m sorry I fucked up.” He looked uncharacteristically bashful, unsure even. “Really, are you mine?” he whispered.

“Yes, Rafe,” you said as your heart fluttered in your chest “All yours.”

He smiled stupidly, so far gone for you as he kissed you again. You were completely lost in the moment until he muttered against you, “Then please for the love of God will you take that necklace off and tell me who in the hell thought they could buy you something like that?”

You met his eyes strongly, the last embers of your pain crackling there.

“No” you said simply, continuing quickly when he tried to interrupt you. “I’m going to keep it and wear it whenever I damn well please to remind you of what you have and what you sure as hell want don’t want to lose.”

He looked genuinely shocked to hear you challenge him like that and you could see a tic in his jaw as he worked it back and forth in anger.

“I… hate that” he growled. “What if I buy you something nicer?”

You shrugged noncommittally and he shook his head at you. “Fine, let’s get out of here, that dress is killing me and I have a lot of convincing I want to do to you right now.” You giggled as he grabbed your hand and led you back outside, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

When you rejoined the party there were a few murmurs and glances as you hung off his arm. Were you imagining it, or was he taking the long way back to your table, intentionally parading you around the patio and staring daggers at anyone whose gaze lingered too long? Being seen together at Midsummers was basically shouting from the rooftops that you were official. You were glowing, he was too. You said goodbye to your friends and within minutes you were in his truck headed back to Tanneyhill, his hand rubbing circles higher and higher on your thigh, your fingers in his hair.

He threw the car in park and scooped you over his shoulder, carrying you all the way upstairs like that, which had you shrieking in delight. He didn’t set you down until you were in his room and he kissed you feverishly, his hands cupping your face, before his fingers traced your neck, nearing your necklace.

“Rafe” you muttered against his lips, a warning.

“Just tell me who” he muttered back, unable to let it go and kissing you deeper in the hopes of convincing you. “I’m already gonna to buy you a new one, you’ll never wear this again, but I need to know. Can’t stop thinking about someone else with their hands on you” he said as he guided you backwards towards his bed, pushing you gently onto his comforter and crawling on top of you.

“I don’t like it. I do not fucking like it” he growled against your lips. Under his anger, you detected a hint of vulnerability and you broke your kiss just long enough to look into his eyes, which gazed longingly at you as they searched your face. Perhaps you had tortured this poor boy enough.

You sighed, relenting.

“Olivia” you said.

He looked at you, completely confused for only a moment before the realization dawned on his face and he hung his head.

“There isn’t anyone else” he said in equal parts relief, frustration and embarrassment.

You shook your head at him.

“God I’m so fucking stupid” he said.

You giggled before reaching behind your neck to unclasp the necklace and toss it on his bedside table.

He looked at you with heat and tenderness, “I’m sorry that’s what it took for me to get my shit together. I wish it all happened differently, but I don’t regret it. You’re it for me, YN, no one else.”

He placed a kiss beneath your ear, to your throat, to your bare collarbone. “My girl” he whispered against your skin, enjoying how it felt on his tongue and the sound of your sweet laughter in response.

taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444

#rafe cameron #obx rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #outerbanks rafe #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #obx fanfiction

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caraphernellie · 3 months

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can u write ellie with dacryphillia

absolutely. i might be a little obsessed with dacryphilia m sorry (not) and i swear ellie would LOVE to see it. she would go crazy. also my first time posting smut with a strap somehow i haven't posted any yet. now bare with me ok. this was also kind of inspired by a video i saw on twitter that was like... sorta ellie coded. (anything involving a grey hoodie makes me think of her now) (oops)

cw: softdom! ellie at the start, mean dom! ellie, sub! brat! reader, kind of shy! reader, strap on sex (r!receiving), riding, missionary, rough sex, dacryphilia obvs, degrading, strap referred to as cock and dick, nicknames such as good girl, baby, babe, slut, straight up porn without plot xx

info: ok so... you know me. biggest softdom ellie truther. at least for jackson ellie. now i raise you: softdom ellie who has a gf in a bratty mood and she's starting to get annoyed by letting you have your way too often... so she basically jackhammers u until u get the point! she's in charge here <3

・wc: 1.2k

“kay, faster now.”

ellie’s order falls on deaf ears for the millionth time and she’s starting to reach a limit. she has been for some time now. she’s too soft, and who could blame her? her brain turns to mush the minute she’s got you this way.

dazzling green eyes focusing in on the way your body moves, the rippling of skin and contortions of your belly. her hands find home on the spaces between your ribs and your hips, thumbs rubbing circles as you bounce on her strap.

“hey,” ellie tries her best with you, putting on a stern tone now, and her hand weakly slaps one of your tits. she bites back a smirk of pride at your jolt. “do you hear me?”

you definitely do. but hearing isn’t the same as listening or even caring. not when the rhythmic circles your hips are moving in are scratching that itch so good. it’s satisfying the pit of warm need in your stomach that’s been waiting all day. the pit you begged and begged ellie to help you out with.

it’s how you ended up here, ellie still half dressed in her grey pullover and you on her lap with nothing but an unzipped hoodie on.

“aww, i thought you said you were desperate, baby,” ellie continues, “what’s this?”

a shiver runs down your spine, ellie’s hand moving over the expanse of skin on your stomach and squeezing your tit. she’s on two trains of thought, distracted by the way the soft ball of flesh fits in her hand, and trying to keep you in line. because what ellie can feel is her power slipping out of her grip no matter how hard she squeezes your body under her palms.

“so you’re not even gonna talk to me?”

a fire ignites in ellie when you move slower, rolling your hips down onto her cock, the depth eliciting a drawn out and long moan from you.

“god, can you not be fuckin’ stupid for two seconds?” ellie asks, never genuine when she gets like this albeit it’s a rare occurrence for sure. she starts to buck her hips upward, fucking into you while forcing you to change your pace – her hands grip meaty thighs and begin bouncing you up and down. she revels in the way you mewl a little louder, the sight of your tits bouncing.

“like this. don’t let me tell you twice, baby. i mean it.” voice strained from the effort of her movements, ellie grunts and finally releases you. “you said you were desperate, so we’re making this quick, and i don’t wanna hear any complaints.”

i’m too nice to you sometimes, ellie thinks to herself. but she believes it pays off. she lives for the control, but she’s a more gentle lover. normally it’s enough to get you to listen just like it has right now, with you continuing at the pace she set. she watches with a satisfied smirk, her thumb reaching down languidly to flick at your clit.

“there she is, good girl.”

sometimes (most of the time), ellie gives in. she lets you do as you please. she never gets to hear you beg because she’s so weak for you, so eager to make her girl feel good, that she will give you exactly what you need when you ask. she will give up on trying to reign you in and do what she wants you to, only because the sight you are is already so convincing that ellie doesn’t mind. anything to see it, the furrow in your brows, your eyes rolling back. anything to see a happy, fucked out expression on your face.

so it’s no surprise ellie’s seeing a rise in bratty behaviour, she enables it. she shouldn’t complain, but she will anyway. it’s her fault and damn, she needs to do something about it before it gets worse. she’s had a busy week and doesn’t need this. because ellie hates her authority to be challenged by one of the only people she even has authority over.

the fade of ellie’s smirk comes with the fade of speed. she hears the sweetest giggle escape your lips and she knows you’re treating this like some kind of joke now and she can’t have that.

“we’re not doing this again, babe.” ellie’s voice is a low rasp by this point, the slightest bit of amusement present. what you expect might be another spank to the thigh before she inevitably gives in to you, but that’s not what comes your way.

this time it’s ellie chuckling. you yelp loudly as she flips you onto your back. she’s on top now, wasting no time, and she slides into you again.

everything happens too fast for you to fully process it, but she’s pounding into you now. the sounds of skin slapping, the squelching of ellie’s thrusts into your poor cunt, and your nonstop moans – it’s filthy. ellie can’t stop it now, grunts of effort made as she hooks your legs around her waist. if she didn’t know any better, she’d make some point about being able to see her cock poking and bulging out of your tummy, her thrusts deep and carnal.

hands balling the sleeves of your jacket into paws, you hide behind them, finding this to be one of the most intimate and closest experiences you’ve had. ellie’s caging your head between her arms, lip drawn between her teeth, eyes piercing down at you. she takes grip of your wrists and pins them down, laughing at you. “yeah, look at me, baby. look… who’s making you feel this good? who owns you?”

your eyes grow half-lidded and ellie’s face becomes a blur, tears clouding your vision whilst all you can do is halfheartedly moan her name in response.

“poor baby,” ellie mocks, her voice a hoarse coo, as soft as she can manage. it’s a harsh comparison to the reckless power of her hips. as long as you will sing your pleasure to her, she won’t stop. “i thought you wanted it so bad, you wanted my dick so bad, so what’s your deal?”

“mm… n- noth–” you try, you try to speak, but things are getting fuzzy. there’s nothing to occupy your busy mind besides her. ellie, ellie, ellie.

you’re brought out of the fuzziness for a moment when ellie cups your face to wipe a tear off your cheek.

“you just needed me to do all the work for you, huh? so you can lay there cryin’ ‘cuz it just feels that good to get fucked like this?”

all you do is nod, pitiful moans and whimpers flooding ellie’s senses, egging her on just as much as the sight of her strap covered in your essence does.

“i try so hard to be nice to you, baby, feels like you just–” ellie takes one particularly hard thrust into your sopping cunt, “--take advantage of that like a slut…”

“m’sorry,” you squeak, hands wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her closer, closer, closer, nails digging into her back and eliciting a hiss. she’s getting sloppier now, tired and finding that the base of the strap is pressing too well into her clit, making her near delirious, like it’s her real dick she’s fucking you with.

“who’s in charge?” ellie demands to know, glaring down at you but with no malice, there’s nothing but lust and amazement as hot tears streak your cheeks. “who are you gonna obey next time?”

“you.”

“who?”

“ellie, ellie, ellie ellie ellie.”

“that’s right,” ellie scoffs with a nod. “good girl.”

shes so pretty and i need her really bad and um um um um

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jeongin-lvr · 8 days

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jeongin fucking you within an inch of your life when he finds out one of his besties (beomgyu) has a little crush on you.. takes a video/picture and send it to him (with ur permission ofc) as a 'fuck you,' but next time he comes over jeongin invites him to join

thoughts?

THOUGHTS??? my thoughts are gone no thoughts only THIS!!! I’m gonna add a little beomgyu action too just cuz IDEAS!!! the second half of this may inspire a part 2 🤗

Jeongin is not happy, not at all, when he finds out that one of his best friends is not-so-secretly crushing on you. He finds out because of you; he sees that whenever the three of you hang out Beomgyu always laughs a little too hard at your jokes and sits a little too close for Jeongin’s comfort. And come to find out a week later you were recounting to your boyfriend the ridiculous story of how the boy had confessed randomly a few days before. Jeongin feels like he should find it funny but he really doesn’t at all. Jeongin grits his teeth when he hears the confirmation come from your lips— those pretty, smiley, innocent little lips. He can’t help himself as his hands come to pull you over his lap, your legs dangling off the side and your lips breathing over his. Your once bright smile faltered as you took in the sight of Jeongin’s face. He was mad, you knew that look well enough. His narrow, foxy eyes were dark and his lips pressed in a thin line of disapproval.

Jeongin had a hunch that that idiotic boy liked you too but now that it was confirmed it felt like a whole new level of annoyance. Jeongin’s lips graze over your neck and his whispers are delicate yet they breathe out the tiniest glimpse of venom. “Pathetic… baby, what did you tell him?? Tell me, now.” He demands and you immediately obey, your fingers clutching around the collar of his button up, your lips parting to let out a whimpering sigh. “I— I said that m’ not interested…” You voice cracks when his teeth dig into your skin, grating against your flushed skin, “I told Gyu that m’ all yours, Innie.”

Jeongin seemed satisfied with that as he pulled back, the swollen red shade of his lips matching that of the bruise he left on your neck, “Good girl, you did exactly what you’re supposed to do.”

“B-but, Innie, he kind of got mad at me,” You genuinely felt sadness warping your chest a s you said this. Your eyes lowering to his hand that gently rubbed your belly, the gentle graze of his fingertips making you warm, “I think he hates me now.”

Jeongin snorted at this, raising his hand to tilt your chin up to his face, “It’s not your fault, sweetheart, Beomgyu’s a prick sometimes,” And then he’s kissing you. And it starts off as those familiar kisses he always gave you. The ones that leave you breathless and dizzy; but then it escalates as his hand clasps at the back of your neck and his lips roughly mesh with yours. He starts the kiss and he’s also the one to escalate it. You simply comply because you always did for him, and you did so gladly.

That’s how he got you ass up with your face in a pillow, bellowing his name like a sinful mantra as his dick fucked in and out of you repeatedly. And it wasn’t slow or rhythmic; the pace of his hips was sporadic and oh so heavenly. He was moving in a way that you’ve never really felt with him. Fueled by the jealousy, the pure need to prove a point. Jeongin bit his lip as a groan swam out of his mouth, his eyes falling in your bouncing ass, watching as you fucked yourself back on his dick drowsily, drooling into the pillow below you. Jeongin couldn’t help himself, he moans out your name, squishing your plush waist, “It’ll only ever be me, right, doll? I know your body too well, you can’t even get off without my dick in you anymore, let alone someone else’s,” He chuckles at his own words, his eyes zoned in on your flushed cheeks as a fat tears swam from your eyes, spilling in a wet patch on the pillow you laid on. Then his gaze shifted as his phone screen lay alit, a notification opening his screen. A notification from his supposed best friend. Jeongin bends forward, opting to roll his hips into you now as he began checking the message.

He read it aloud for you, “Can I come over tonight? What do you think, babe, should we let your little admirer come over tonight?” Jeongin awaited your answer and you immediately shook your head no, sobbing out as you felt your orgasm rapidly zap through your poor, spent body. “No? Well, why not? Actually, let me record this so Beomgyu can hear your exact words.” Had you been in your right state of mind you’d immediately say no; push him away and reprimand the man. However, your body only ached to cum just as it did before this and before that. So you laid limp as your needy pussy began missing his rapid fucking. Jeongin began recording now, stilling his hips as he angled the camera to catch the way you fucked your self on his hard dick. Your ass bouncing back and forth on him as a little moan slipped past your lips, “Tell Beomgyu what you said, baby.” You whimpered, sinking into yourself as your body struggled to even fathom words. Jeongin sighed with an exaggerated click of his tongue and used his free hand to grip your hair and yank you backward, “Tell him now.” You tilted your head back, following the way he held you by your poor red scalp. You pouted and finally answered, “Don’t c-come over, Gyu…” Your voice was painfully wavered by the interruptions of your own moans. It satisfied Jeongin and he, on recording, slammed his hips into you once, making sure to catch your long moan and expression, before ending the video and hitting send carelessly.

Meanwhile, Beomgyu opened the video, unable to make out the first frame before it began playing. Then the screen before he was quite obvious. His screen obscured by the refreshing view of your little ass; he’d always wondered what it looked like beneath the skirts and pants you wore, now he knew. Beomgyu ogled at the screen, watching your ass fuck on his friend’s cock. Pure jealousy raged through him and he let out a little whispery sigh. Dick already hard in his pants as he listened to your stifled voice and pained whines tell him not to come over, telling him you were busy. Beomgyu groaned with annoyance, it was unfair. He watched the way you took Jeongin’s cock and it looked so snug in your cute little pussy. He longed to be in your boyfriend’s place; he ached for it. But instead he just took his cock out of his jeans and felt the warm enveloping feeling of his own palm per usual, eyes watching the video over and over again until he came like a whore over his own stomach.

#love me some jealous boys #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #i.n smut #jeongin smut #txt smut #beomgyu smut #beomgyu hard thoughts #yang jeongin smut

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arvandus · 3 months

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Thinking about how adorably awkward Diavolo is, but also how sad he is too. This guy grew up super isolated with a father that neglected him, a “friend” that was obligated to play with him and cater to his every whim, and essentially raised by an ancient time demon that he “bullied” into serving him.

This poor guy has never ever had a single person be around him/with him by choice. Imagine what that does to him, to his self-esteem. The only one who has been with him by choice is Barbatos, but every now and then, Diavolo will doubt even that much, considering how he had “forced” him into serving him when he was younger (logically he knows Barbatos could have refused him; he was powerful enough to… but even then, the doubt lingers).

On top of that, he’s trying to join the three realms in a peaceful way, which I would guess not everyone in the Devildom is okay with.

Even when the angels fell, and Lucifer requested his help, Diavolo did it on the condition that Lucifer (and by proxy his brothers) serve him and the Devildom. Because even though they may have been somewhat friends (remember Diavolo planted an apple tree for Lucifer when he was still an angel), Diavolo had to act as a prince first, setting his own personal desires aside. His help would come at a price.

Everything he does is so motivated by this deep-rooted loneliness, forced by his position and power, and the choices he has to make because of it, keeping him isolated from others.

This persistent isolation and always being served by others has left a huge deficit in his people/relationship skills. The wild shit he says or does when interacting with those he cares about isn’t even intended to cross boundaries or rile them up half the time. He genuinely means it in the most innocent way. He hasn’t exactly learned what’s appropriate and what’s not appropriate (after all, the only friend he had was Mephisto, who worships the ground he walks on and never tells him no to anything). So he’s learning that now, albeit a bit late. He really just gets an idea that sounds nice in his head, inspired by his love and respect for that person, and says it out loud in an effort to deepen his relationship (ie, friendship) with them. And fortunately for him, Lucifer is able to be patient enough with him and maintain those boundaries as he figures out all of the nuances of socially and culturally acceptable communication and relationship building.

That’s not to say that there aren’t times where Diavolo doesn’t say or do things on purpose with the intent of giving others a hard time. He’ll definitely say things to get under Lucifer’s skin; he likes to fluster him, and for Diavolo, even bad attention is better than no attention. But I think there’s also another purpose to it, albeit subconsciously, in that it allows him to experience healthy boundaries which he never had when he was younger. Lucifer has no problem saying no to him, even at times when Barbatos doesn’t (Barbatos is strict, but he’ll also dote on Diavolo at times too, in a motherly way). It allows Diavolo to feel equal with Lucifer, more friends/comrades than ruler/oath-bound servant.

It’s also the same reason (partially) why he tries to escape his work half the time, or will come up with wild ideas that Barbatos has to say no to. He likes pushing (just a little) against the boundaries placed by others in order to meet that resistance. In a weird way it’s how he knows that they genuinely care about him rather than simply serve him out of obligation. They tell him no when he needs to hear it, but they’re also forgiving.

He’s always known he’s not perfect, yet he was treated like he was for so long. It created a dissonance between who he was told he was versus how he was experiencing himself. Now, he’s allowed to experience, understand, and accept his own imperfections through those closest to him and how they respond to him when they maintain their boundaries. It validates his own self perception of being imperfect while also allowing room for growth and understanding that the imperfections are acceptable/allowed to be there.

I think the last lingering doubt of others’ genuine love for him is the fact that they literally cannot leave him, at least not without consequences. Sure, they can disagree, even fight him. But in the end, he’s the prince, and they’re bound to him by duty and oaths. If they weren’t bound, would they still stay and continue to be there for him? Or are they merely tolerating him? It’s an insecurity that still plagues him.

Anyway… not sure where I was going with this. Brain is just stuck ruminating on it. He’s such an interesting character, I love him so much.

#arvandus rambles #obey me #obey me Nightbringer #Diavolo #obey me Diavolo #Diavolo obey me #om diavolo #diavolo om

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ironunderstands · 16 days

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Here’s my comparison of Acheron, Aventurine and Ratio that I made in 2.1 which I forgot to upload here lol, I would like you to know my thoughts then because OH BOY HAS THIS AGED WELL

Aventurine, Acheron, Ratio and what the Nihility means to them

(Inspired by a convo I had with @aoxizu on Tumblr!)

The ending scene of the 2.1 update (the one featuring the black hole) is perhaps one of my favorite in all of fiction. I genuinely adore the way it was done and what it says about both the characters and life itself. This game has THEMES and by god did they come through then. So, I want to go over why I love it so much, and why it’s such a vital moment for Acheron, Aventurine and Ratios characters.

First, some context. Prior to Aventurine’s and Acheron’s conversation, Aventurine was taking the riskiest gamble of his life. Prior to the confrontation between him, Acheron and the Astral Express, Aventurine set up a plan to try and get to the secret at the heart of Penacony, as well as provide a ruse for Topaz and Jade to do, well whatever they planned on doing, the ending scene says they came there to “harvest”, so in 2.2 I assume we will find out what exactly that entails.

In order for this plan to work, Aventurine needed his cornerstone and to trick Sunday, so pre-2.0 he went to Dr. Ratio to include him in this plan, and set up a fake betrayal to fool Sunday and allow him to keep the Aventurine stone, with the Jade and Topaz stones also being acquired pre-Penacony. We know this because of Aventurine’s conversation with Topaz post 1.4 Belabog mission in which he requests her help in Penacony, something which we didn’t get confirmation on whether or not she accepted until 2.1, in which it’s revealed that one of the Cornerstones in the box is Topaz, meaning when they got confiscated in 2.0 she had already accepted his offer (we can assume a similar situation for Jade).

Essentially, everything had been going according to plan for IPC (even if Aventurine was absolutely not having a fun time during it), Ratio even says as much, stating that the IPC is pleased to hear of his death sentence, so that part of the confrontation was already predetermined. This leaves Aventurine with one final gamble, hoping the Astral Express and Acheron take the bait, and that they will try and stop him from destroying the entire dreamscape, which if Acheron acts on it, he could entire the true dreamscape to find the truth, as only an emanator could break through the power of the harmony.

Luckily for Aventurine, the gamble pays off and Aventurine does indeed draw her blade, both stopping him and sending them both into another plane entirely, it’s there in which one if my favorite scenes in fiction ever occurs.

You see, even if Aventurine planned this all from the start, he hasn’t exactly been having a fun time while doing it. Being sentenced to death and then slowly hallucinating on Harmony sh1t until the manifestations of your past self and your present doubt and insecurities come to haunt you isn’t exactly fun for anyone, especially Aventurine. 1) Because his backstory is horrifically tragic and being faced with a reminder that you will never feel secure or valued or truly happy would be enough to erode away the psyche of anyone 2) A version of himself which claims to be his future, but is more like a personification of how much Aventurine doubts and hates himself. It’s even more telling that this isn’t the first time he has talked to this version of him, in fact it saved his life several times, meaning one of Aventurine’s driving motivations is his own self loathing.

A trait that on the surface you don’t think he would have, Aventurine plays the role of the confident, unflappable gambler who always wins, when in reality his other hand is under the table, clutching his chips for dear life (something I quite literally paraphrased from the game).

Therefore, going into this conversation, Aventurine is more relieved than anything, yet another one of his gambles paid off, but now he will have to see how to go from there, and that’s when Acheron’s advice comes in. She’s not stupid, and immediately recognizes that he won (or at least got what she wanted), and that killing him is meaningless, it’s not his time yet. However, what Aventurine is really focused on is the fact that out of all the emanators he could have come across, the one he faces now is an emanator of nihility.

And well, in the face of overwhelming nihility, one’s own value comes into question yet again, and that’s something Aventurine doesn’t even need the aeon for to ask. So, he talks to Acheron, as IX isn’t exactly going to answer, but she might know. Now, I’m just going to lay out the dialogue (then explain it obviously) because it’s genuinely amazing.

Aventurine starts out by asking Acheron if she is an emanator of nihility, and I find her response to be really interesting. She doesn’t view herself as someone chosen by IX, as nihilism (the feeling of meaningless) envelops everyone equally, but she has simply walked in their shadow longer, tainted on the feeling. This leads Aventurine to question if this is the end, as if life has lost all meaning, in the face of overwhelming nihility, would that mean he’s dead?

Luckily Acheron immediately disagrees, stating that this is merely a manifestation of IX, not the end (he’s not dead guys idk how anyone can think that). However Aventurine still questions if his death has been determined, but Acheron doesn’t promise it. She mulls over his plan and and Aventurine asks her why she thinks he did it, and Acheron believes it was to find a secret deeper than the dream “deaths: the Real Penacony. He wonders how she found out, and Acheron says it’s the trailblazer’s identity which allowed her (and Aventurine) to come to this conclusion (we don’t yet know how this happened for either of them yet, but 2.2 should give answers).

They continue, Aventurine reveals that he believes the barrier the family built using the power of the harmony was not just to keep death out but the nightmare that is the real dreamscape. That the Memory Zone is simply a vast island built atop a violent ocean with the barrier keeping whatever nightmarish secrets from washing ashore. In order to break through this barrier and find the real dreamscape, which is why he kept killing himself earlier in the dream, but to no avail. When Sparkle gave him the hint, he realized it was referring to Firefly, someone who had seen the other side and survived it, even if she was unable to let others know if it. It wasn’t proof of the families wrongdoing, but it was suspicious enough for him to try and get Acheron to kill him, rather than try and find the Meme to recreate Firefly’s death.

Acheron points out just how insane this plan was, that if he hadn’t gotten lucky and crossed path with her, it wouldn’t have succeeded. Then, she commends him for playing it perfectly, pitting her perfectly against him and creating a plan that would be beneficial for the IPC no matter what happened, as even if he dies that would be great leverage. However, Aventurine disagrees with that last point, he truly can’t guarantee the IPCs success or even his own survival, that if she hadn’t drawn her blade it would have all be pointless.

She’s doesn’t let him continue along this line of thought, what-ifs are pointless and he earned his ticket to the dreamscape. What matters now is what happens next, and Acheron asks him if he can return from the abyss (Childe reference?), but more importantly, she questioned if he has ever wavered, as even a gamble as seemingly insane as the one Aventurine just did seems to have not shaken him (from her POV, we know how terrified Aven was but everyone else minus maybe Ratio does).

Aventurine tells her perhaps the most fundamental aspect of his character; he gambles simply because he has no other choice, betting on everything because he has nothing else to lose. Acheron tells him to wake up from this “dream” (aka find the true dreamscape), and she presumably goes to leave.

However (and this is my favorite part of the scene), he asks her one more question before she leaves, thinking she might know the answer as a pathstrider of nihility, “Why are we born in this world if it’s just to die?”

Her response is the best possible way you could answer this question. Acheron is an emanator of nihility, but she doesn’t think life is meaningless. The feeling of emptiness and pointlessness envelops everyone equally and that’s exactly why the nihility is pointless. It doesn’t matter that nothing matters, and we aren’t born into this world just to die.

Aventurine still worries though, after all if the dice of fate will always roll to the same conclusion, then destiny is predetermined, so why struggle? Why does it matter?

Her answer again is not one he would expect, but one that absolutely makes sense. Acheron says the answer has been with Aventurine throughout his entire life and journey on Penacony, and that he’s already somewhat realized it. Aventurine said himself that sleep is a rehearsal of death, but people aren’t ready to welcome death, which is why they sleep to get a taste of it. Sleep is much like death, a realm of unreality in which anything might be possible within the dreams that define its existence. Death itself is an unreality, and nobody truly knows what it’s like to die, but dreams are the closest we might ever get before the end. Like Acheron says, in a way, dreams are just a preparation for death, a practice before it can be welcomed.

However, much like how dreams can contain anything, even if we cannot choose to experience them or not, life itself is full of choices, regardless of if the ending is determined or not. Acheron understands that there are an infinite amount of things people cannot change before the end, but there are choices you can make up until it. Death is inevitable, but the life you live before it isn’t. This is what the words in red mean, both here and in my opinion, in general.

Acheron reminds the trailblazer to make the right choice when time comes for it, in our first meeting with her. However, I don’t think the path we choose matters, but rather the the fact that we chose at all. Now the next paragraph will include a minor discussion of 2.2 leaks, so skip to the next slide if you don’t want to hear it.

Sunday is getting a bossfight in 2.2, and it’s highly theorized that he works/believes in Ena the Order, especially because it looks like it’s their hand he’s touching in that one animation of the bossfight. Now here’s the thing, Order as a concept Chooses For You. I think the trailblazer making a decision is the thing that will save them and the rest of the gang, as within the face of an entity defined by limiting choice and free will, choosing to well, choose will save them (us?) and perhaps be the thing that gets the trailblazer acknowledged by the Harmony, a concept greater than Order.

Anyways, after she says that, Acheron leaves Aventurine, saying the answer to his question was from his friend.

And Aventurine pulls out the vial from Dr. Ratio

The vial telling him that the only impossible thing in the dreamscape is dormancy (meaning the secrets from before are destined to rise and destroy the “island” that is Penacony.

The vial telling him to stay alive and wishing him the best of luck, which in the Chinese version is:

Ratio answered both of Aventurine’s questions. The physical one, the one that pertains to Aventurines goals in Penacony, informing him of a vital aspect of the dreamscape that will help him win his gamble. But more importantly, he also answered Aventurine’s emotional one. What is the point of living? There is no real deeper meaning but to stay alive, survive and keep on living, because at the end of the day, that’s the only choice Aventurine can make, and that’s the one Ratio wants him to make.

Ratio Gives Aventurine A Reason To Live.

Aventurine says that he has nothing left, his family is gone and he has nobody and nothing to fall back on which is why he gambles. But Acheron proves him wrong, he isn’t alone, she calls Ratio his “friend”, says that he’s the solution to his doubt. Someone caring about Aventurine is what saves his life, he walks into the massive black hole unafraid not because he holds some secret power or technique or trick, but because someone cares about him, and that someone taught him that caring about himself is enough. Aventurine didn’t need the power of an emanator to survive the true dreamscape, he only needed a friend, and the will to keep going that he realized from them.

This is the true meaning of nihility, not that Aventurine says that he has nothing left, his family is gone and he has nobody and nothing to fall back on which is why he gambles. But Acheron proves him wrong, he isn’t alone, she calls Ratio his “friend”, says that he’s the solution to his doubt. Someone caring about Aventurine is what saves his life, he walks into the massive black hole unafraid not because he holds some secret power or technique or trick, but because someone cares about him, and that someone taught him that caring about himself is enough. Aventurine didn’t need the power of an emanator to survive the true dreamscape, he only needed a friend, and the will to keep going that he realized from them. the universe is meaningless, but that regardless of if it has one or not, it doesn’t matter. It’s this realization that saves Acheron from losing herself like other emanators, it’s this realization that allows Aventurine to cross the event horizon of that manifestation of IX, and it’s this realization that I believe is why Dr. Ratio was never acknowledged by Nous: he was already treading the path of nihility without even realizing it.

Now this is where my conversation with @aoxizu comes in, and I’m just gonna paste directly what they said because I think it’s amazing and everyone should read it, more importantly it’s what inspired this slideshow in the first place.

Ratio tells Aventurine to live despite everything because that’s the only thing he can do. It doesn’t matter how absurd life is, or how meaningless it all seems, choose to live anyways, because all you have are choices, and it doesn’t matter if they lead to some grand outcome or future or whatnot. To Ratio, life doesn’t, and shouldn’t care about that. Existence doesn’t need to make sense to be worth it, and that’s a sentiment both me, the characters and the og poster share.

Acheron is a lot like Ratio, she chooses to live despite having discovered the meaninglessness of the universe. In an existence seemingly black and white she chooses to paint the world red with her choices, accepting its reality and choosing to forge her own path rather than succumb to the madness. That’s why she says in her trailer, “there is no other choice but to move forward” and that’s because there really is no other choice, the universe doesn’t have some grand plan for anyone and you can’t turn back time to change anything, so all you can do is move forward.

My contribution! I’ve already kinda started but I do want to talk about how Ratio could be treading the path of nihility, but I’ll let this amazing post finish.

So yeah, amazing post, and I don’t think I could reword what they said in a better way than they did. Bringing up the philosophical aspects of this scene makes me really happy because they are so prominent, but most people aren’t really aware enough to notice. Absurdism is one of the driving inspirations behind the dreamscape, and it’s nice to see someone else besides you (see: my slideshow about Penacony and its American influences for an elaboration on this) bring it up. Honestly I think that philosophy fits Ratio far better than any of the Ancient Greek stuff you try to slap on him. Sure he obviously has the inspirations, but he’s closer in spirit to philosophers from the 1700s to now than them, a reinterpretation of Greek scholars rather than a copy of them.

And this is where my idea that Ratio is a pathstrider of nihility (and he doesn’t even know it yet) comes in. He doesn’t view knowledge in the same way that pathstriders of Erudition do; knowledge for knowledges sake has never been something Ratio has cared about. Knowledge means something to Ratio because it allows people to better themselves, not because it has some sort of inherent value. That’s why he’s so determined to spread it, he wants everyone to reach their fullest potential, and dedicates his life to doing so. Regardless of if the universe has meaning or not, that doesn’t mean people can’t try and live their best lives, and that’s the philosophy Ratio truly believes in.

Moreover, this is why it’s so meaningful that Ratio is the one to help Aventurine, he’s teaching him something Ratio himself learned long ago when he got rejected by the Genius Society. Despite all of Ratio’s intellect and qualifications, he will never be good enough for them because he simply doesn’t view knowledge in the way they do. But instead of this meaninglessness (nihility) consuming him, Ratio dedicated his life to doing what brought him meaning and validation rather than searching for some hidden answers from the universe (specifically Nous).

And it’s not like he just accepted it happily. Ratio still wants their acknowledgement, and it still hurt (and hurts) him a lot to not have it, which is why I think he unknowingly strides the path of nihility. To Ratio, his view on knowledge is simply how knowledge is, and the fact that Nous will never perceive it in that way because his philosophy is more nihilistic than it is erudite is something Ratio might never come to terms with. But that’s ok. The point is that it’s ok, Ratio doesn’t need to be acknowledged or to understand the truth of the universe to be happy or do well for himself. Our universe might mean nothing and yeah that can and will suck, but existence is more valuable than some grand cosmic plan, and even if you don’t realize it, choosing to live is enough.

Continually, this reminds me of the conversation Aventurine had with his hallucination self, in which he told real Aventurine that him and Ratio are very similar. In a way, they are, both struggling to find meaning in their lives, and Ratio helps Aventurine find meaning in his without really even knowing how. Sure the note was meant to keep Aventurine going, but Ratio caused Aventurine to come to a conclusion that probably won’t find Ratio for a while. He helped Aventurine overcome nihility without even knowing it, without Ratio even realizing that THAT is the thing he has been struggling with, and the path he has been walking the whole time.

I really hope we get to see Ratio again, and at the very least I want a story quest for him because I want to analyze his brain under a microscope. Him and Acheron need to meet asap I want more Ratio content idc if everyone else in the fandom hates him I love him and he’s my pookie bear and I will write 3039493494 things about him when it comes to me UGHHHH. Anyways I didn’t know how end this so this is the ending yaaayyy! I hope you liked it and if you have any thoughts let me know!

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Og post over! That was a long ass read and past me was absolutely cooking up a storm, oh god did this age well and I was right about or close to right about a lot of shit haha. Anyways I really do hope you enjoyed reading this, and this will hopefully provide some needed context for my next posts on this subject. Also feel free to repost this onto other sites I’m very proud of it

#honkai star rail #hsr #Dr ratio #acheron #aventurine #penacony

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helluvabun · 3 months

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Lucifer xreader?

authors note: Inspired by a comment :) um, learning I really like writing nothing burgers but I'm pretty happy with this one...

Lucifer and Alastor argue over you

TW: mentions of a sibling? idk if thats a trigger

masterlist

Alastor had really done it this time. You knew he wasn’t the most genuine of friends, aware he was just being nice for personal gain. But as time went on and you and he settled into the gentle routine of quiet afternoon teas listening to jazz in his half-open bedroom under the stars, you allowed yourself to believe maybe he enjoyed your companionship. Then you lay in bed, crying over finding out your sibling ended up in hell, and he had the audacity to offer you a deal. Not even a good deal: he’d get them to the hotel in exchange for your soul. You yelled at him angrily and stormed down to the bar, face still puffy from your sobs. You demanded the strongest thing on hand from Husk before burying your hands in your arms. He poured you a double shot with a small smile.

Lucifer entered the empty bar and walked over to you. He stood quietly, waiting for you to acknowledge his presence. Eventually, he spoke, his voice barely a murmur. "I heard what happened."

You hastily wiped your eyes, looking up at him with a nervous smile. "What? How?"

"Everyone heard what happened… you weren’t exactly quiet, kiddo," he sighed gently, taking a seat on the stool beside you. "I already sent Maggie to retrieve the new sinner, so don’t worry your head about that, okay?"

You nodded silently at the information, taking another sip from your glass. You didn't know what to do; you were still so angry, but you didn't want to yell at Lucifer too, even though you wanted to yell at everyone and anything that could hear. His presence somehow seemed more comforting than the empty stool that was next to you just a few seconds ago.

Lucifer stayed silent for a moment, thinking of what to say next. He cleared his throat slightly before speaking in a soft voice, "I'm sorry about what happened with Alastor. He was never the most trustworthy demon." He leaned back against the bar and sipped his drink. "But I promise you that I will do everything in my power to ensure that your sibling is well taken care of at the hotel. And don't worry, I won't ask you to give up your soul in exchange."

You smiled softly and turned to thank him, but as soon as you opened your mouth to speak, you were interrupted by the voice you least wanted to hear.

"I don't recall being untrustworthy." You almost jumped out of your skin. After all this time, you’re still not used to him appearing randomly behind you. "At the very least, I can be trusted to uphold my end of the bargain. No need to vilify me."

"Oh really? Because I seem to remember you agreeing to take this poor sinner’s soul in exchange for getting their sibling to the hotel! Isn’t that right, Alastor dear?" The devil spoke up, a playful yet firm edge to his voice, his expression remaining steady.

"I don’t remember this deal involving you," Alastor said pointedly, placing a hand possessively on your shoulder, ignoring your stiffening under his touch. "Can we discuss this matter upstairs, my dear? This really should stay a matter between two friends."

"We were having a conversation, and I think it’s rather clear she’d rather continue that than leave with you," Lucifer interjected.

Alastor, with a wide grin that can only be described as predatory in context, slowly slid his hand off you, a slight shiver running down your spine. Lucifer's eyes turned cold, and his smile disappeared, a chilling silence filling the air. Lucifer slowly stood from the stool and looked directly at Alastor with an angry expression. Alastor stared back with a calm and confident expression, not backing down from the argument.

"Come with me, my dear. This was just a misunderstanding we can get through."

"You think she would ever choose you over me?" The King laughed. "Even if she could forgive you for your actions, she'd rather be with someone whose heart isn't filled with hatred and fear. Someone who wouldn't use her for their own gain. Someone like me."

"Are you really going to side with him? You know as well as I that Lucifer is nothing more than a deceitful, tyrannical tyrant that cares nothing for the soul of a mere sinner. Now please take my hand and let's discuss this upstairs, shall we?" He didn’t give you a choice, grabbing your hand and pulling you gently. Lucifer grabbed your other hand to hold you in place. You were in a very awkward position now, caught between a rock and a hard place. Lucifer and Alastor continued to bicker. Their voices were becoming louder and louder with each passing moment. You wished they would just shut up and leave you alone for a few seconds.

Lucifer seemed to be the only one who wanted to do the right thing for you without expecting anything in return. And you know what? He's right. Alastor is untrustworthy, manipulative, and cruel. You're so glad he's on your side.

"Will you two just shut up!" you finally said loudly, causing both of them to stop mid-sentence. "You two can’t just argue over me like I’m the last piece of pizza. Alastor, I don’t want to go with you."

"Well, you heard the girl! She doesn’t want to go with me! And since she doesn’t value me as a friend, I’ll be on my way," Alastor said, his tone unreadable, smiling broadly at Lucifer before turning to leave.

Lucifer's grip on your hand tightened a bit as he watched Alastor walk out the door. He let out a long exhale and looked at you with a soft expression.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, his voice full of concern. You nodded silently, feeling relieved that the confrontation was over.

The Devil smiled warmly at you before releasing your hand. "Would you like to stay for another drink? On the house, of course."

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johnkahner · 7 months

Text

A Stray Cat in a Strange Place

AN: This is a platonic story. Just wanted to practice writing an original story. Also this is the longest thing I've written?? I just wanted to write about being a cat. I was inspired by someone else's post (their name is koisuko) and a manhwa I was reading that involved cats. Also this is I guess technically an isekai. This is part 1. I'll try to work on this when I feel like it. Hope you guys like it. I'll be posting this on Ao3 as well (skoomahawker is my account on there). Not proof read.

Notes: Platonic relationships, Gender-Neutral! Cat! Reader, fluff

Part 2

Waking up in a world that seems familiar, but not at the same time. Your body was tinier than what you had remembered. Looking down you saw that you had paws? You appear to be a cat? So many thoughts were rushing through your head. Your stomach growled. Great, now you’re hungry. You had no idea how to even get food in your current state.

Roaming around a street you were looking for a food source. Hoping a friendly person would be caring enough to provide you food. Of course you could try to hunt something, but in your new body you weren’t exactly sure what to do.

Walking by a window you get the chance to look at your appearance through the reflection. You appear to be a beige looking cat though that could just be the dirt on your fur. Big azure eyes. You’re not sure what kind of cat you are exactly, but in your own opinion you look pretty adorable.

You start to walk again. Where are you even going to sleep? Wait, why are you even here? You got distracted by your own hunger to ask that question earlier. Why on Earth are you a cat? How long will you be in this form? How long will it take you to find food, or even a place to sleep?

With having so many dilemmas going on in your head your body is walking in auto pilot. Not paying any attention to your surroundings you bump into something. Well more like someone. Falling back just a little bit the figure in front of you seems concerned for you. The person bends down to pick you up.

“Elder Gods, are you alright my little buddy?” The man was observing you. You didn’t have a collar on, so he figured you didn’t have a home. It made him sad to see such a small kitten not in the best of shape. You meowed looking at him. What shocked you was this man had glowing white eyes with silver hair that was in a long braid.

He chuckles when he sees you just staring at him. “Are you hungry my little friend? Let’s go get you something to eat. Then I’ll get you cleaned up.” He smiled at you. This stranger has been one of the nicest people you have ever met. Trying to get comfortable you nuzzle into the man’s chest. You’re thankful that this man is now your savior. You close your eyes and begin to take a nap.

You don’t know how long you were asleep. Stretching you notice a plate with some cut up cooked fish along with a bowl of water. Slowly eating the food and drinking the water. You hear an argument going on in the background. You hear the voice of the man that picked you up earlier, but not the voice of the other man.

‘Brother, I must ask you why did you bring an animal back with you to the temple?”

“It needed a place to stay. Not to mention It’s an adorable kitten. I thought it may be good company.”

“How do you even know if it had a home?”

“It was wandering. Not to mention it looks famished. If you don’t want to help with taking care of it, then don’t. I shall raise the kitten, brother.”

After the friendly stranger said that he walks into the room you are in. He smiles. Looking genuinely happy to see you eating. The man’s brother sighs, and enters the room as well. He gave off a somewhat aura that seemed menacing towards you. You notice that his eyes look the same as your savior’s eyes. This man had on a hat that looked kind of stupid in your opinion.

“Fujin, do you even know what this cat’s name is? Or how about taking care of it?”

So your hero’s name is Fujin. That’s nice to know. Looking at the two men in front of you, you decide that maybe you should try to show the stranger that you mean no harm. Slowly walking over to the unknown man. You stop at his leg, and nuzzle it to show your friendliness.

Fujin looks kind of sad that you didn’t approach him first, but he thinks maybe you feel the tension between the two. The other man tenses at the contact of the nuzzling. He looks down to see you. Meowing happily at the two. He notices that you are covered in grime. Looking at his brother he begins to speak again.

“If you plan on keeping this cat in the temple. You must clean it up, name it, and anything else that may happen to it.”

Fujin agrees with his brother’s words. He bends down to pick you up. You look up at him meowing. Nuzzling into him. The unnamed man just watches how the two of you interact with each other.

“Now then little one. Let’s get you cleaned up. We also need to come up with a name for you too.”

Fujin, carrying you in his arms, leaves the room to take you to the washroom. He starts to wash the dirt away from your fur. The water is warm and soothing. He’s using some scented products to make you smell good. You think you smell some citrus in the shampoo he’s using. You hear him chuckle again.

“I’ve never seen a cat that likes water. You sure are one special kitty. Hmm?”

You look at him. You didn’t really pay attention to the way you were acting. You were honestly just relaxing right now. So far in this place he is the only person you trust. Well, you somewhat trust his brother too. You can understand that not everyone can take care of an animal, and that it takes a lot of responsibility.

He picks you up to dry the remaining water off of your fur. As he does this he begins to speak to you again.

“Raiden will come around eventually I believe. It may take some time, but my brother cares for the beings of Earthrealm. And wouldn’t you know my little friend, you are a being of Earthrealm as well.”

He smiles at you as he pats your head. He seems to care for you a lot even though you haven’t known each other for long.

Once you're all clean you realize that you have white fur. Unfortunately it seems that there is some damage to your fur, but Fujin promised that he would do all he can to help get it repaired. He walks you back to the room you were previously in. You come to find out that this room was his room where he stayed. Laying you down on the bed he begins to ponder what would be a good name for you. It’s been something he’s been thinking about since he met you.

“How about I say a few names, and you respond to the one you like? You seem like a smart kitten.”

Smiling at you. You meow in response as a ‘Yes’ to his question. He chuckles at your reaction.

“Well alright then, how about ‘Breeze’?”

You don’t react to the name. Just stretching out beside him. Awaiting to hear his next suggestion.

“That’s a no then, maybe ‘Thunder’?”

“Really brother?”

The man you now know the name of, Raiden, stands in the doorway with an unamused look on his face.

“Surely you can come up with a better name than that.”

Raiden continues to speak to Fujin, but not making eye contact with him. He is staring at you. He notices that you’re all cleaned up, and for a split second you swear you could see him smile, but it happened far too fast to actually tell. Fujin speaks up again.

“Well how about…”

You start to zone out a little wondering what will be your new name, and how will your life be now in this new place. Hopefully your life won’t be too chaotic.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mk fujin #mk raiden #fujin x reader #raiden x reader #platonic relationships #no romantic relationships

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thewritingofspencerrose · 2 months

Text

Adoption?

general masterlist | Freefall: A Series

inspired by Ollie's rookie debut and him attaching himself to Charles for that race weekend

"I want to adopt him."

"Mon amour, we can't just adopt an 18 year old who's father is actively in the garage," Charles tries to explain, although I will officially take none of that.

"Ollie!" The poor kid jumps upon hearing my voice, not expecting to be acknowledged during this little downtime. He smiles, though, regardless of the scare, and makes his way over to Carlo, Charles, and me.

"Hi Ms.Earnhardt," Oh he's adorable.

But it doesn't stop me from crossing my arms, standing with a pose of disappointment. "Ollie, we've talked about this last season. You don't need to call me Ms.Earnhardt, Lynnleigh or Lynn is good enough."

He's blushing now, brightly nodding along. "Right, yes, Lynnleigh. And hi Charles, Carlos, glad to see you're out of the hospital!"

Oh he's so sweet.

"Ollie, can I ask you a question?"

"Mon amour, no-"

Charles gets no time to finish his thought, because I know it'll just be him trying to stop me. "Can Charlie and I adopt you?"

And here comes the look of shock on the two men and the boy's face.

"Can you- what?" Ollie isn't the only person to pause, Carlos' thick brows raising in question while the Ferrari crew around us slow, giving me the look of an animal in a zoo.

Peculiar and entertaining.

"Can Charlie and I adopt you?" I repeat, smiling brightly as Charles pulls me under his arm, shaking his head as his hand clamps down over my mouth.

"I'm sorry about her, it's the American in her."

Ollie just laughs awkwardly at his dismissal, "Uh, I mean I do have parents."

Moments like these, I curse Charlie's strength because it genuinely does make removing his hand from my mouth more difficult, no matter how much I adore his strong arms wrapped around me.

But I manage, his arm dropping to rest around my waist and link with his other hand on my hip.

"Ollie," I start, making sure my voice is soft and mellow. "I don't mean for us to legally adopt you, kiddo. I mean like, can we be your paddock parents?"

"So- you don't want to adopt me adopt me, just like, actually no, I'm still confused. What's happening?"

"In exchange for one hug every race, I will bring you snacks and keep you entertained if you get bored. And Charlie will mentor you."

"When did I offer this?" Charles's question is whispered in my ear, not out of refusal but instead of confusion.

He gets a kiss in return, no answer, and just nods, accepting this consolation.

Glancing back to Ollie, he looks excited and my heart jumps.

"So I get to keep my parents and have an extra pair for race weekends?" Oh this is so going where I want it to.

"Exactly!" I exclaim, tapping Charles's chest and getting an oomph. "See! He gets it!"

"Yes, yes, mon ange excité (my excitable angel), I can see he is understanding your crazy." Cue another tap to his stupidly toned chest.

"Ignore Charles, he doesn't get it," I dismiss, the young boy chuckling brightly, curls bouncing as he nods.

"I think I'd enjoy this," The teen agrees, putting his hand out to shake my own while Carlos guffaws at what he's seeing. "You're got yourself a deal!"

I can't help the cheer the slips out as I shake his hand, quickly turning around to look up to Charles. "Charlie, we've acquired our first grid kid!"

Kissing my lips, he can't help the smile that takes over seeing how happy this makes not only me, but the rookie who had been vibrating with nerves over his rookie debut. "Would you look at that."

It's then that Ollie's father walks by, the teen seeing him and getting even more joyful.

He's pulling us into a group hug before I can even process what's happening before running away, following his father.

"Dad! I have new paddock parents!"

"Vous êtes adorable (you're adorable)."

"I don't know what you're saying, but I love you too."

#the writing of spencer rose #original character #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 #charles leclerc x oc #earnhardt oc #nascar #ollie bearman #charles leclerc fanfic #carlos sainz

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barsformars · 8 months

Text

Lemonade

g - pure fluff

p - wooyoung x f! reader

w.c - 1023

t.w - none

c - you help out at wooyoung’s brother school carnival and get mistaken for his parents.

a.n - idk what inspired me to write this but i think its quite cute and i want a love like this frfr

it’s two in the afternoon on a saturday and you somehow find yourself in an indoor sports hall surrounded by parents and their elementary school children for their school induction carnival.

“so why am i here again?” you leaned back to whisper into wooyoung’s ears, smiling at the group of young teachers walking past your lemonade stand as they gushed about how they weren’t aware kyungmin parents were this young and beautiful.

“please give lots of love to kyungmin!” wooyoung waved at them with a bright smile which was reciprocated with even bigger smiles and head nods. “seems like kyungmin’s going to be popular,” wooyoung commented. the teachers weren’t the only ones, other parents seemed to share the same sentiment.

you pushed wooyoung’s fringe to the side, clearing his view as he sliced up more lemons. he surely is very handsome, and so you said, “i think you’re the one they care about.”

he laughed under his breath, creasing the corners of his eyes and revealing his dimples clearer than ever. “well, kyungmin is lucky to have such a good looking brother,” wooyoung added on.

you pouted upon hearing that as you pointed at the badge you had pinned on your shirt — ‘kyungmin’s mom’. wooyoung reasoned that they didn’t have time to get it reprinted since his parents had urgent matters to attend to. they felt bad pulling out last minute since it was also on volunteer basis and the school needed as much support as they could get. you had suggested writing over it but he whined that it would be ugly, and also harmless even if they mistook the both of you for his parents.

“i feel like i’m committing fraud,”you confessed softly, “this is the first time the parents are meeting each other, and we aren’t even actually them.”

wooyoung was about to lean in for a peck when a customer arrived at the stall with her daughter, ordering two cups of iced lemonade. he quickly puts on his million-dollar smile, his voice laced with honey as he sweetly makes small talk. “what class is our pretty jihyun in?” he asked, his gentle eyes shifting from her name tag to her little face.

you did your part by pouring the drinks and covering the lids before passing them to wooyoung, who very swiftly wrote a cute note on the cups while still holding the conversation.

“kyungmin eomma, your husband is so sweet, you’re so lucky!” the lady called out to you. you awkwardly thanked her and you can already see the weird faces wooyoung was making at you from the corner of your eyes.

once the lady and her daughter had walked away, you pushed his cheek towards the other side. you didn’t want him to notice how your own were starting to flush. you didn’t want to admit that you enjoyed having wooyoung being referred to as your husband, especially not when neither of you have ever brought up tying the knot yet.

“so i was going to say that you’re basically kyungmin’s honorary mother at this point,” wooyoung said softly from behind you, his hands resting on the side of your hips. he attempted to peek at your face but you shunned, flustered. you still turned to face him, reminded by the fact that this was not the best place for public displays of affection.

“why are you blushing so hard?” wooyoung questioned, genuinely surprised. he had started to think you were getting immune to his ways of affection.

you cupped your face with your hands, wanting to gauge just how red you were — you were burning hot. it did not help that wooyoung was guessing what exactly got you feeling this way, and getting it on the second try.

“you like it when people call me your husband?” he teased. wooyoung knew you long enough to tell that you meant a ‘yes’ despite you pushing him away again. “do you want to be referred to as my wife?”

you shot him a look. it doesn’t hit the same.

“alright, i’ll settle with a one-sided marriage then,” wooyoung joked. “you have yet to proposed though, by the way.”

“would you want to marry me?” your gaze locked with his. if he was serious about it, you would be down for it too.

“of course,” wooyoung replied without hesitation, reaching out to take your hands in his. “i was just kidding earlier on though, i want to be the one proposing,” he clarified.

he had been thinking about bringing this topic up for quite some time but the two of you have been too busy pursuing your own careers. but wooyoung realised that if he kept letting that excuse stop him, it would never happen till he retires. he’s not going to make you wait that long, even if you were willing.

you swiftly checked your surroundings before sneaking a peck on his lips, “thank you for always wanting me in your life, i feel very loved.” you may have refused his initial invitation to help out at the carnival with him but it didn’t mean that you didn’t appreciate it. you were always the first person on his mind, and always the person he chooses to go to regardless of the matter.

“and thank you for wanting to be with me, i love you, lots,” wooyoung replied before engulfing you in his arms. he couldn’t wait to live out the rest of his life with you, going on exciting adventures or staying at home accompanying each other in silence or doing simple things like slicing up and juicing lemons in an elementary school’s indoor sports hall.

“you know what they say about making lemonade when life throws you lemons,” wooyoung said as he suppressed a smirk.

“uhuh…”

“what do you do then when life gives you love?”

you slapped him on the shoulder and lightly shoved him to the side. “this is not the best place for that kind of jokes, woo!”

#ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez oneshots #ateez drabbles #ateez writings #ateez reactions #ateez #wooyoung fluff #ateez wooyoung

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bunni-v1 · 8 months

Note

My request is for riddle x reader where the reader is a very skilled equestrian

Riddle and His Equestrian Partner

TW: My little pony reference; swearing

Info: Riddle x Reader; Horses; Idk shit about horses

🍓This low-key turned into a whole short story in several parts before I remembered these were head cannons and forcefully split it up lol. It’s not too long, because little concepts like this aren’t exactly the easiest to write a multi-page story about, but I try my best. I kinda of just went off on my own though, so I hope this is what you wanted lol. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it, and sorry about the whole waiting thing only for a mini piece like this.

Riddle

-Ah! Riddle Rosehearts, we meet again.

-Riddle is a proud man. He’s multi-talented, incredibly hardworking, intelligent, and not so much kind, but it's not his fault his mother shoved a stick up his pompous ass.

-He takes great enjoyment in being the best at the things he does, but he fully accepts that… maybe… possibly he won’t always be at the top of the top.

-He does try, though. Very hard, because if he doesn’t his mother will be very cross with him.

-Something he takes greatest pride in is his talent in horseback riding. He’s a very talented equestrian, and he adores his horses. It’s one of the very few hobbies he was pushed into that he genuinely loves.

-He loves it so much that, when he gets accepted to attend NRC, he willingly and excitedly signs up for the equestrian club. In fact — other than his mother forcing the school down his throat — NRC’s equestrian club was one of the main draws of the school to him.

-This is where he meets you, his freshman year of college.

-He walks into the stables, the smell of hay, feed, and mud (and horse shit) filling him with nothing but delight.

-Students are allowed to bring their own horses from home if they’d like, but the school provides a handful of wonderful purebreds for those new to the sport or not willing to transport their own to campus.

-Riddle decided against bringing his old girl the first semester, even though she would be more reliable. He wanted a change, something new and exciting. He was good with horses, so he was sure whichever one he was given would be easy enough to work with and train how he liked.

-While he was looking at the different horses, one in particular caught his eye. A beautiful Appaloosa with a shiny clean coat and pretty braided hair.

-It was love at first sight for him. This was his horse, gaping at it with an open mouth, he looked rather stupid.

-At least, that’s what you thought at least. Stupid and endearing staring at your big baby of a horse like she was the most perfect creature on earth.

-To be fair, she was really pretty, just not… not pretty enough for this reaction, you think.

-“Hey, you okay?” You ask.

“Ah- Uhm, yes. Just… appreciating the horse.”

-Riddle is bright red trying to explain why he felt so… inspired by your horse.

-Surprisingly, however, it goes well, as you very enthusiastically tell him all about Rainbow Dash, “Dashie”, the third.

-You’re his first friend on campus! (Other than Trey).

-However, your name sounds very familiar, and he can’t quite get it out of his head after your first meeting.

-So… he looks you up, and he sees your insanely impressive track record. First-place medals, championship trophies, the whole shebang. You’re far more talented than him, and it almost makes him jealous he wasn’t so incredibly impressed.

-Truly Night Raven College has the most impressive students attending within its walls.

-He would initiate some sort of rivalry, but you’re just so… cool. So relaxed, and confident about your skills. He can’t help but admire you more than he wishes he were you.

-The two of you have very different schedules, so you hardly get to see each other outside of club meetings, your interactions are strictly horse-related.

-However, you hear about his violent temper and you find it kind of funny.

-“You’re like an untrained horse, you need a good rider to reel you in.” You always tease with a wink whenever he gets particularly angry at a match or during practice.

-To everyone’s surprise, he doesn’t blow up at you, just flustered and grumbles like a toddler being scolded by his parent.

-In fact, you’re the only person he really doesn’t blow up at. Your mutual love for horses and hard work in classes make you a nearly unstoppable duo.

-When he gets frustrated training his new horse from the school, you’re there to help cool him down and find a productive way to retrain the horse. When he doesn’t perform well in a match or compares himself to you and your records, you remind him of how different your training was compared to his.

-You two become incredibly close through all of this.

-So it’s no surprise when you both decide to start meeting up outside of class to study together. Then you start meeting up to just hang out in his dorm room. Then you start treating him to sweet treats off campus. Then you start showing up to Heartslabyul’s tea parties.

-It was honestly only a matter of time before the two of you decided to make things official, and when you do, it’s incredibly easy!

-You both plan horse riding dates with each other and spend the majority of your time together talking about training techniques or studying for your upcoming tests.

-Him bringing you home to meet his horse was honestly a bigger deal than meeting his mother.

-He was afraid you wouldn’t find him as beautiful since you own Dashie, but you were absolutely in love with his old girl. She seemed to like you too, given she didn’t try to buck you off the second you claimed onto her back.

-He’s incredibly supportive of you at your own matches and your matches alongside him.

-Now he’s proud of not only his skills, but you and yours as well, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #twst headcanons #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader

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zzoguri · 5 months

Text

serene (it’s what i hope for me) ➵ eric sohn

non-idol!eric sohn x reader

you should’ve known that eric wouldn’t be the one.

genre/warnings ➵ angst no happy ending, exes au, gender neutral reader, unedited, lowercase intended, shift between past and present to represent waves (hence the italics), the chilling realization of your suspicions always being right

word count ➵ 845 words

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel @stealanity @deobi0412 @blue-rainydays @maessseongs

playlist ➵ california and me by laufey // you missed my heart by phoebe bridgers

a/n ➵ on my period and in my eric feelings :’) inspired by “california and me” by laufey. please listen to it! it genuinely resembles the feeling of ocean waves, hence the constant shift between past and present :3 and no, the ocean waves pics have no relation to this fic i just love ghibli aesthetics for the banner. i hope you all like this drabble! don’t forget to reblog and leave feedback!

it’s not summer where you are, but you stand where the season lives; sand in between toes, sea meets the shore. you bask in the sunlight as you look at the expanse of blue while the breeze comes and goes.

it’s serene here, beautiful—but it’s lonely; not a single sight of another person here to appreciate where summer continues to live amidst all seasons.

“i’m sorry.” those are the words that first leave eric’s mouth once you two arrive at the han river, the first words to confirm your suspicions of tonight.

you hold your breath. “w—what?”

“i know, i—”

“did i do something wrong?” your glossy eyes shine like stars under the moonlight; you almost hope they’re enough for eric to take those words back.

“no, no!” he attempts to reassure you but they’re meaningless after what he told you. “it’s not your fault. nothing is your fault.”

seagulls flap their wings, croaking out sounds of their whereabouts, finding their flock they may have been separated from. as you hear a similar sound in the distance, you watch the flock rush off.

the ocean runs to kiss the land every time it has to go, regardless of how long the two are kept away from each other. the deep blue rushes to bathe the pale cream, reassuring they will always return.

and while the beach is heaven on earth, you grow bitter. surrounded by instances of one coming back—choosing to reunite with the other—you wonder if that’ll ever happen to you.

“i—i could call you every night, or morning! maybe i can—”

“y/n, no,” he cuts you off. “we talked about this before, remember? we can’t do long distance, we’ve always hated it.”

your lips tremble. “you don’t even want to try?”

silence settles between you two.

“i would try to make it work for us, but you wouldn’t?”

a sigh leaves him. his hand reaches to rub his temple. “but it wouldn’t be fair to us.”

your phone rings. you look at it to see your best friend calling, so you answer it, putting it against your ear.

“y/n, i have to tell you something.”

a chuckle leaves you. “i know.”

“huh? but how? he only posted that picture an hour ago,” chanhee points out. “do you still follow his instagram?”

you only hum in disagreement.

“did you check his profile again?”

as you look down at your feet that’s consumed by the sand, a sigh leaves you.

“i thought we agreed to not look at his socials anymore! do we need to talk—”

“no, chanhee,” you cut him off. “i didn’t look at any of his accounts.”

“then how do you know? you knew exactly what i was referring to. how?”

you close your eyes, letting the heat of the sun and the coolness of the breeze consume you whole. “i just know.”

you look away from eric, allowing your eyes to take in the sight of the river stream continuously flow as it reflects the luminescence of korea—city lights and stars all together.

such a beautiful sight, but such a shame that it’s been soiled by his words.

“you’re right,” you find yourself saying. “we’ve talked about it before, we could never survive in a long distance relationship.”

you look back at eric. his go-to smile and the sparks in his eyes—all vanished in one night.

“i just wish we could.”

“i know. i do, too.”

your eyes peel open, greeted by the sight of the serene once more. you wish it could stay like this—tranquil, lasting.

“i hope you’re okay,” chanhee says on the other line. “i’m sorry that this is happening.”

you bite the inside of your cheek. “it’s okay, i’ll be okay.” it sounds convincing to you but not to your best friend. “i’ll call you later, okay?”

he hums for a moment. “okay, i’m here for you.”

you drop the call. you stare at your home screen for a moment until you decide to open up instagram.

you shouldn’t be doing this, especially after chanhee’s reminder, but your best friend's words have cracked the dam that held the water from pouring out.

you type his user like a password—discreetly, one you still know by heart.

in a matter of seconds, you see his profile pop up as a top suggestion. your thumb hovers over it, unsure if you should proceed or save yourself from reality. but you remember that it won’t change anything—nothing will change if you decide to look or not.

so you click on his profile, and your eyes land on the most recent post. from the preview in his profile grid, you already know that you were right. a bitter smile settles on your lips.

you shut your phone close and shove it into your pocket. your eyes land back to the ocean, glossy once more like that one night. it’s still a beautiful sight, but it’s a shame that it’s been soiled by one post.

in the same way the waves come and go, he always goes back to her.

#deoboyznet #kflixnet #bjnet #k-labels #works of moni #eric sohn #the boyz #sohn youngjae #the boyz x reader #eric sohn x reader #sohn youngjae x reader #eric sohn angst #the boyz angst #eric the boyz #the boyz imagines

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morallyinept · 6 months

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Bad Acting - A Dieter Bravo GIFLET

Uh, Jett, what the heck is a GIFLET?

Just a short 500 words or less drabble, based on inspiration that I got from a GIF. Simples.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x GN!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It's you, bub.)

Word Count: 500

Scoville Smut Rating: None, it's fluff. You're safe.

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here

GIFLET MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

This GIFLET was inspired by the below GIF 👇🏻

He feels like he might throw up.

And not from the binge last night at the hotel bar in an attempt to push it all down, although he can still taste that around his teeth as it all, inevitably, came back up.

No, it’s something else that’s unsettling his stomach today.

But he’s only prolonging the agony.

Something that he's tried to avoid, something he’s tried to put off.

Tried swaying the director to re-shoot another scene, tinker with it some more, even though it’s perfect.

He can’t do this scene; he can’t kiss you, because then you’ll know.

You’ll know exactly how much of a shitty actor he really is.

Everyone says it, so it must be true.

And Dieter can’t hide this. Act his way out of it. He’s never met anyone like you before.

Never met someone whose eyes sparkle genuinely at him as if he’s the only person in the room. When he opens his mouth to speak, you hang on every word, even the dumb ones that come out and make him sound more neurotic than he really is.

You agree with him about not wearing wireless earbuds, that’s gotta mean, something, right?

It keeps him up at night mulling it over, his cock painfully hard with lewd thoughts of you, but he can't do anything about it because it seems… disrespectful somehow.

And that's how he knows it means something more.

And he wants it to be you, wants you to be the one to reap the reward of his pleasure, even if he won't last that long.

He’s never met anyone who’s so acutely aware of him and his nuances, his ticks.

His stomach feels like it might fall out of his ass as you both hover on set waiting for your cue.

When he has to kiss you - and then, you’ll know.

You’ll know he’s a faker and a talentless idiot, and you’ll know he’s absolute putty in your hands.

The director calls action, and Dieter's teeth clash against yours. You both bonk heads clumsily.

“Sorry, sorry,” Dieter says, as the director cuts.

You can see the tremble in his fingers, he won’t look at you today and is unusually quiet.

“Dieter?” You murmur, and he still won’t look at you.

So you take his chin, turn it to you until his eyes find yours.

You lean in, pressing your lips gently to his, and you feel him sag, moaning into your mouth with want.

“Now you know.” He says as he pulls back, his breath staining your lips. “Fuck.”

“I think I’ve always known.” You say softly, and the arch of a relieved smile threatens to bend at the corner of his lips.

“You really are a shit actor,” you conclude with a grin.

Dieter spits out a chuckle before leaning in to kiss you again.

You can both hear the director asking if they’re rolling, but it fades away as you listen to Dieter whimper with need inside your mouth.

#pedro pascal x reader #dieter bravo x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x gn!reader #the bubble fic #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo fanfic #jett's writing #dieter bravo giflet

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swimmingismywholelife · 10 months

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I'm With You

Summary: You're unsure of where your life is heading, but you're glad Christian is here to help you figure things out.

Warnings: Self doubt, uncertainty about the future, slight angst but fluffy overall

A/N: Inspired by "I'm With You" by Avril Lavigne. She always talks highly about this song and how it's not sad to her, but meant to be happiness shared with another person. I thought this would be so cute with Christian so here she is.

WC: 1.7K

"Won't you take me by the hand?

Take me somewhere new

I don't know who you are

But I, I'm with you."

~~~

Christian had woken up after hearing some noise. As he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, he realized that his arms were empty which wasn't how he went to bed. He could hear a faint tapping noise that made Christian realize at some point during the night, you snuck out of his arms and into your desk area.

"This girl," he sighed to himself as he rolled out of the sheets, hissing when his feet touched the cold floor.

He found you sat in front of your laptop frantically updating your resume and filling out job applications. And unfortunately, this wasn't the first time he found you like that within the past few days.

"Babe you need to go to bed," Christian said as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, kissing the top of your head.

"Just let me finish this okay? I'm almost done I just wanted to check if anything new popped up," you responded, switching through your tabs.

"At 3 in the morning Y/N?" Christian said flatly.

"You never know! I don't wanna wake up only to find a job I really wanted was taken because I didn't see it while I was asleep!"

You and Christian had been together since high school, meeting after he'd accidentally kicked a ball at your head during a free period. Instead of being angry like he thought, you thought it was hilarious, teasing about how his aim needed work and offering to teach him. And just like that you'd been inseparable ever since. His move to Germany only made you love each other more, learning to appreciate each other's physical presence as you didn't often get the chance to see one another.

But while Christian was off playing in Europe, you weren't exactly sure what you wanted to do or what direction you wanted your life to go in. Nothing particular stuck out to you during high school, but you tried new things here and there to see if anything peaked your interest. Even as you attended university, you constantly questioned the major you chose and if it was something you genuinely wanted to do.

When Christian signed with Chelsea, you'd been long distance for a few years. While it wasn't a dealbreaker for your relationship, it could be exhausting. Between the different time zones and the inability to travel to see each other as frequently as you wanted, you'd seriously started to miss each other. You jokingly offered to move to London with him as a solution. But the more you thought about it, the better the idea seemed to be. You'd already finished your program and didn't have anything permanent keeping you in the States preventing you from leaving. So you officially made the move abroad to live with him in London almost like a gap year after you finished school. You thought London would be the inspiration you needed to figure it out.

But all it did was confuse you more. Adjusting to life in Europe was a little difficult for you as change in general was something you struggled to deal with. Even still, you still didn't find your calling in London. You'd tried odd jobs here and there, but nothing truly stuck and it started to worry you. You often found yourself searching at jobs trying to see if anything sounded interesting enough to you. You were even willing to volunteer at different places just for the sake of experience.

Yet despite all the setbacks, having Christian with you made it a lot easier. He was nothing short of supportive, often giving his input whenever you found something you liked. He was more than happy to shoulder most of the finances you shared together, but you never wanted him to feel as though you were taking advantage of him, trying to pay for things when you could. Christian was the one who constantly kept your spirits up even when things felt hopeless. While London wasn't what you thought it would be, you didn't regret your move because you had Christian.

You were a big factor as to why he ended up signing with AC Milan. Despite having Christian with you, you became frustrated with your situation. On top of that, London wasn't what he wanted either. Between his lack of playing time and your lack of figuring out what you wanted to do with your life, the two of you both decided a change of scenery would benefit the two of you. AC Milan was a team you'd supported since you were young, and Christian jumped when the opportunity to play for them presented itself.

So the two of you left your life in London for a new start in Italy. But while Christian was adjusting nicely, you had a bit of a harder time adapting to yet another change in your life. He loved his teammates, he loved the atmosphere of AC Milan, and he loved that he had a club and fans who supported him and wanted to see him succeed.

Your situation didn't really change. You were still unsure of what you wanted and you were set back even further when you realized job searching would be more difficult as you didn't speak Italian. Your stress levels were through the roof.

Christian was gearing up for preseason where he'd be back in the States for a few weeks. Unfortunately you'd be staying in Italy, meaning you'd be by yourself until he returned. The thought of being alone in a new country with no plan made you panic, hence why you were frantically looking for job openings at 3 in the morning.

Christian kissed your cheek sweetly before gently closing your laptop despite your protests.

"Hey! I was in the middle of that!" you exclaimed as you tried to continue your search, reaching to reopen the device.

He ignored you and grabbed underneath your legs, carrying you to bring you back to bed.

"And I was sleeping," he said simply. "And I can't sleep one, because you're not there, two because I can hear you tapping away, and three, because I'm worried about you."

He gently placed you down so you were sitting, your legs dangling off the side of the bed. He joined you, intertwining your fingers together.

"So what's going on baby? Why are you so stressed?" he asked, gently rubbing his thumb against the back of your head.

You sighed, laying your head on his shoulder.

"I don't know what to do Chris," you answered.

"About what?"

"Everything," you said quietly. "When I was younger, I always thought that by this point in time I'd have it all figured out. I'd know what type of job I wanted, what kind of house I wanted, where I wanted to go, what I wanted to do. But I don't have anything. I don't have a single plan or concrete thought."

Christian wrapped his arms around you to pull you in closer. You leaned into him even more, taking in the comfort he always provided.

"It seems so silly because you have a plan you know? You're following your dreams and you have such clear goals. You're doing what you've always wanted to do. Meanwhile I feel like I've tried everything under the sun and it's still not enough. I still have no idea what I'm doing with my life," you admitted.

"Y/N, it's not dumb or silly. You don't have to feel ashamed that you don't have your whole life set in front of you," he said, rocking you back and forth.

"That's easy for you to say Chris," you sighed.

"You and I know it's a little more complicated than that babe," he said.

"I'm sorry. I know it's been hard for you too. I guess I'm just feeling a little discouraged about everything," you said, feeling guilty for snapping at him.

"You don't have to apologize for anything Y/N," Christian replied. "I know it's been a hard transition for you. But you know you don't have to have everything figured out right now."

"I feel like I do."

Christian picked your head up so he could look you in the eyes. He cupped your cheek in his hand, thumbs gently tracing the beauty marks on your face.

"You don't baby. Football has always been my dream from a young age. But Chelsea didn't work out the way I wanted. And I was frustrated and upset and discouraged with the situation. I didn't know what to do or how to solve it. All I knew was that I wanted to play. I wanted a club that believed in me and trusted me to play for them. And you know what got me through those difficult times?"

You shook your head.

"It was you. Despite everything going on, you never failed to keep my spirits up. You were the light at the end of the tunnel that helped me see something good was coming my way even if I couldn't see it. I had nothing figured out, but nonetheless I had you and that was more than enough."

You dropped eye contact with him looking at the ground. He brought your face up back up.

"Don't shy away from me Y/N. I'm serious. It's perfectly fine that things are confusing for you right now. You moved away from home to a whole different continent. And once you were getting into a rhythm, you moved again. Things are bound to be uncertain and weird. But you don't have to face the uncertainty alone. I'm right here with you okay? Every step of the way.

"Which means you don't have to search things up at 3 am. Just take it day by day and take as long as you need. Things will work out when they work out. Don't try and force it just because you're unsure of what to do. Let me help you okay?"

"I love you Christian," you said tearing up.

"I love you Y/N. And don't you forget it."

Christian kissed you gently. You melted into his touch, feeling the love emitting from him.

"Now let's go to bed. I can tell you're fighting to keep your eyes open," Christian teased.

"Will you hold me?" you asked softly.

"Baby if it were up to me, you'd never leave my arms. Of course I'll hold you. Besides, I know you like being little spoon no matter what day of the week it is."

You lightly hit his shoulder and rolled your eyes. Nonetheless, the two of you shuffled under the sheets until you were safely tucked away from your stress in Christian's embrace. And while life was uncertain, you knew anything was possible with Christian by your side.

Taglist: @masonsrem @landoslover @pulisicsgirl @chelseagirl98 @lizzypotter14 @thoseboysinblue @neverinadream @lovelynikol16 @notsoattractivearenti @bracedes @nyctophilic0vitnir

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic fluff #swimmingismywholelife #christian pulisic fic

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 8 months

Text

Something There (Chapter 8)

6.7k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, angst, mentions of slut-shaming and double standards, horrible reporters being horrible, pining, finally some fluff!!!

A/N: This is probably my favorite chapter so far, and has some of my favorite scenes I've ever written!! My heart is HAPPY!!

Series Masterlist

I understood; I understood completely.

Ted Lasso was warm, and kind, and fun. He looked at a person like they mattered and listened with genuine interest. He made you feel like he’d have your back and believed in you.

Ted Lasso was exactly what I needed.

After chatting over drinks about our backgrounds and careers, delving into our shared deep love for sports and coaching, he finally broached the subject that had been plaguing me nonstop for what felt like an eternity.

“So. How’re you doing? With all this… hullabaloo?”

He was too kind and polite to even name the hell I was living in.

A grimace crossed my face as I lifted my beer to my lips, trying to delay answering the question for as long as possible while those patient eyes gazed at me. Finally, I had no choice but to fill the silence. “I am… okay,” I finally mumbled. “Trying to just focus on the team, you know?”

Ted nodded, watching me carefully. “I completely understand,” he hummed. “Well, I mean, not completely of course. It’s mighty unfair the way they talk about you. But…” He shrugged, giving a small pop with his mouth. “I mean, they weren’t exactly nice to me when I got here. The press, the team, hell, even Becca.” His face softened at those last couple of words. “But, eyes on the prize, as they say.” He patted my hand gently, a paternal touch I didn’t realize I needed. “Now, like I said, I don’t totally understand what you’re going through. But if you need someone who has some small idea, well, I’m here.”

“Thank you, Ted,” I murmured. “I really appreciate it.”

He shrugged, turning his attention to glance around the pub. “Anytime, Clementine.”

After a moment, I opened my mouth again. “I’ve just waited my whole life for this. To be a role model, more than a pretty face that runs fast. Sometimes that’s all I felt like back when I played. And being a coach, well everything depends on my brain, you know?” Ted’s understanding nod urged me on. “And I was finally doing it. I was winning, and because England actually gives some semblance of a crap about soccer, people started to know who I was. And then…” A big breath left my lungs. “And then this… thing happens, and it’s like nothing else matters. Olympic medals, World Cups, national titles, win streaks. Nope. Everyone thinks I’m just another Roy Kent girl.”

“You’re not just another Roy Kent girl,” Ted assured me. “It might feel like it, whatever that means, but you’re not. You’re Coach Buck, for Pete’s sake.” His smile warmed all the cold parts of my heart that had developed since Keeley first showed me the photos. “And it might feel like everyone thinks so, but I can tell you for a fact it’s not true.” He pulled out his phone and showed me the freckle-faced kid who took up his lock screen. “My boy has not stopped asking about you since I got here. Kid thinks you’re the absolute bee’s knees, Coach. He doesn’t care about these stupid headlines or what you do off the field. Heck, he even told me I should ask you for some coaching pointers.”

Beer nearly shot out of my nose as I let out a thankful laugh. “Ted Lasso, you have no idea how badly I needed to hear that.”

“Sure, I do.” He bumped his shoulder into mine. “Sometimes, ya just need a reminder about why we do what we do. To inspire other people to be their best selves.” He nodded towards his phone before pocketing it. “And you sure as heck inspire this kid. And I’m willing to bet he ain’t the only one.”

I stared at him for a moment. “You know… If you want, we could Facetime him while you’re here. If you think he’d like that, I mean.”

Lasso’s smile lit up the whole pub. “He’d love that, Coach.”

“Hey, Coach. Ready for that chat?”

A growl escaped Roy’s throat as Ted entered the empty office. “No,” he huffed, turning his attention back to the playbook on his desk.

Ignoring Roy’s scowl, not for the first time since they’d met, Ted plopped himself down on Beard’s desk, eyebrows raised. “I know what you need,” he announced, leaning over to grab the phone off Roy’s desk. “Better get some bones and treats, because I’m calling the Diamond Dogs.”

Before Roy could protest, Ted had called Higgins and texted Nate and Beard; almost instantly the office was filled with the sounds of howling and barking that Roy was sure anyone who was still in the building could hear. The men assembled, closing doors and perching themselves in chairs and against walls, eyes expectantly trained on Roy, as if they already knew the reason for this meeting.

When Roy glared at Ted, the American knew he’d have to get the ball rolling.

“Diamond Dogs,” he announced, “as y’all know, our favorite junkyard dog here has been goin’ through somethin’. I bet he could use some friendly ears to bark at.” He nodded to Roy. “Coach?”

There was no getting out of this. Roy knew that. So, he might as well get it over with.

“Yeah.” He turned his chair and plopped his feet on his desk, trying to keep up his uncaring demeanor. “You all fucking know. Fucking photos, fucking paparazzi and reporters, blah blah blah.” He nodded to Ted, whose face was stupidly supportive. “There. Done.”

Nate cleared his throat. “What about you and Coach Buck?”

It was probably the harshest scowl Roy had given in a long time. “What about me and Coach Buck?” His chest felt tight just saying her name out loud.

“Well…” Nate’s eyes were on the ceiling. “I mean, the two of you were getting kind of close, weren’t you? Before all this happened?” He seemed to shrink slightly under Roy’s glare. “Weren’t you?”

“We’re not close,” Roy spat. “So, dunno what there is to talk about.”

Beard sighed and narrowed his eyes at Roy. “How about we talk about how unhappy you’ve been ever since this all went down? How about we talk about the fact that you slept with her- don’t make that face at me, neither of you have denied it- and now you both look like the most miserable people in the world? Let’s talk about that.”

Before Roy could argue, Higgins cleared his throat. “Roy, have you tried, I don’t know, talking to the poor girl?”

Was there a way to renounce his membership from the fucking Diamond Dogs? “As a matter of fact, we have talked. And she wants nothing to do with me. So, again, what’s the point in any of this?”

Ted cleared his throat. “If I may, Coach, it sure didn’t look like she wanted nothing to do with ya when I saw y’all in the parking lot.” His face was soft. “She seemed pretty grateful for your help, actually. Did everything but call you her knight in shining armor when she told me about that paparazzo.”

Roy rolled his eyes, hating the blush on his face for betraying him. “Yeah, well, that’s about all I’m good for probably.” He stared at his shoes for a moment, scrunching his nose. “Just hate seeing her so fucking miserable,” he heard himself admit quietly. “It’s not really fair, this shit. All that ‘takes two to tango’ shit, but no one’s saying a word about me. It’s stupid as hell.” Dammit, he was ranting now. “And I just want to fucking fix everything but I can’t.”

“You could be her friend,” Ted said quietly. “It sounds like she could really use more of those right now.” He cleared his throat. “You know, I told her all about how Henry just really admires her- heck, I think there might be a little crush there too- and let me tell you, she looked so relieved to hear that. We actually FaceTimed him earlier today before he went to school, and man she was almost as jazzed as he was.” Ted shrugged.

Higgins nodded. “I think she just needs to feel supported and respected right now.” He cocked his head at Roy. “Just give her that, Roy. The rest will follow.”

“The fuck do you mean ‘the rest’-?”

The sound of a door opening had the men jumping. Through the window, Roy could see Buck stroll into her office, sipping her water bottle and looking at something on her phone. She froze, as if she could feel the eyes of the Diamond Dogs on her. She blinked several times when she looked up and saw the Greyhounds office filled with men staring. With her eyes on Roy, she gave a small, awkward wave before sitting at her desk and turning to her computer.

Ted smiled at Roy. “Diamond Dogs, dismissed.”

With soft barks and yaps, the men dispersed, ready to call it a day and go home. Roy sat at his desk, staring through that window, watching her type away. He thought about what they’d said; for some reason, he felt struck by Ted’s mention of Henry. Not quite sure what he was doing, Roy stood and approached the door that separated their offices. He opened it softly, raising his eyebrows when she turned around to look at him.

“Knock, knock,” he mumbled stupidly.

Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but Roy would take what he could get. “Hey, Coach.” She wrinkled her nose. “What the fuck was all that barking?”

“Barking? What barking?” Roy entered the office and perched on Lucas’s desk, feigning ignorance as he stared at the too-pretty manager.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” she chuckled with an eyeroll. “Need something? I’m just trying to finish a couple emails before I head out.”

Roy studied her face for a moment. His gaze briefly flickered to her Brandi Chastain poster before returning to those eyes that made his insides squirm. “Would you want to come meet Phoebe’s football team?”

She blinked a few times. “Phoebe’s team?” she echoed.

He nodded, feeling good about himself for once. “Yeah. She asked me a while ago about inviting you, hasn’t shut up about you since the charity game actually.” He shrugged. “I think it’d be… fun.”

The hesitation in her eyes was heartbreaking. “Oh, I don’t know, Roy…” She bit her lip. “What if the parents don’t like me being there?”

Fuck, her voice was tiny. “If they don’t like the idea of a fucking Olympic champion watching their daughter’s football practice, they can deal with me,” he huffed. “What d’you say? Want to make me the coolest uncle in the world?”

“Well, in that case.” A genuine little smile graced her face. “Alright. Fine. I’m there.”

Leaving the Dog Track to go meet Roy and the girls’ team, I felt that familiar mixture of excitement and anxiety, the kind I got before games, or before an important meeting. It was a good feeling; I hadn’t had it in a while. My phone vibrating interrupted my reflecting on why this practice had me so wound-up.

“Hello?”

“Hey there.” I could hear Geroge’s smile through the phone. “I know it’s last minute, but I wanted to see if you’d want to grab dinner tonight?”

I cleared my throat as I started my walk towards the address Roy had given me. “Oh, sorry, not tonight, George. I’ve got plans.”

The disappointment in his voice was kind of sweet. “No problem. Anything exciting?”

Why did I feel weird telling him?

“Kent invited me to come meet his niece’s team,” I explained slowly. “So I’m heading on over to the school to go see their practice, say hello to the girls. Should be fun.” I tried to keep my voice light and casual, as if this was a totally normal thing to do.

Goerge was silent for a moment. “Oh. That’s lovely of you.” He cleared his throat. “Don’t you think it’s a little risky though? Being out like that? Someone might see the two of you, take some pictures…”

I passed a Whippets advertisement, one that had yet to be graffitied. “I mean, it’s a kids’ soccer practice. I doubt the press’ll be there,” I pointed out with a huffy chuckle. “And honestly, I don’t really care if anyone sees. What can they say about me visiting a girls’ team that they didn’t already say about me going into Roy Kent’s house?”

Another silence came, the same one that usually followed references to the fact that I’d slept with Roy; I hadn’t directly told George that I had, he hadn’t directly asked, but it wasn’t difficult to figure out. It was clearly not something George liked thinking about, and it was something I did my best to avoid bringing up. But for some reason, it slipped out now.

“Well,” he finally murmured. “I think you’ll have a good time. Should be a fun little evening with the kids… and Kent.” He paused. “Call me later?”

“Sure,” I hummed, hating the sinking feeling that I’d done something wrong. “Talk to you later.” I shoved my phone into my pocket and continued my walk, trying to ignore whatever that phone call was and focus instead on the evening ahead of me.

When I finally arrived at the school field, I realized my heart was hammering. It was kind of ridiculous; I’d done school visits and things like that. I’d spoken in front of crowds of students and young athletes. But for some reason, visiting one little girls’ soccer team had me feeling the way I did before stepping onto the field for the World Cup: anxious, unable to breathe.

But a high-pitched squeal immediately brought a smile to my face.

“Coach Buck!”

With a small wave, I approached the group of girls that were passing and warming up; immediately, I was tackled by a familiar blonde.

“Hey, Pheobe,” I chuckled, hugging her back. “How’ve you been?”

She beamed up at me. “Good! I’m so glad you came. I’ve been asking and asking Uncle Roy to invite you. And-”

“And she’s fucking here, ain’t she?” Roy wrapped an arm around Phoebe and shoved her aside. “Go warm up, you.” As Phoebe scampered away, he nodded to me. “Coach.”

I couldn’t help but smirk at him. “Coach.”

He cleared his throat, suddenly the picture of nervousness. “Right. So, I was thinking, I’d introduce you to the team, you could say a few words if you want, and maybe you could help run training? Unless you’d rather just watch. Either way’s fine with me.”

“I’d love to help.”

His face turned relieved. “Great.” He turned towards the group of girls, who were more interested in us than in their warmup. “Oi! Huddle up!” As soon as the girls were gathered around, Roy nodded curtly at me. “This here’s Coach Buck. She manages the Richmond Whippets. And, in case Phoebe here hasn’t already told you, she’s a World Cup champion and has an Olympic gold medal.” The excited buzzing from the girls had me fighting a smile- and it looked like Roy was fighting one too. “She wanted to come say hello to you all and help with practice. Sound good?”

“Yes, Coach!”

Roy raised an eyebrow at me. “Coach?”

With a deep breath, I took a step forward, willing myself to gaze at the little faces staring back with solemn expressions of excitement and awe. “Hello, ladies,” I greeted, putting on my best smile. “Roy- Coach Kent- has told me that you are probably the best team he coaches.” Their little giggles began to put me at ease. “And I am so excited to get to hang out with you today and see what you’ve got!”

The next hour was the best one I’d had since I moved to England- probably one of the best hours of my entire life. The girls were more than talented- they were enthusiastic, fierce, passionate, determined, fearless, everything I remembered being at their age. They played as if there was no such thing as losing or getting hurt. Every mistake was an opportunity to get better, every success was meant to be exceeded. By the end of practice, I knew every girl’s name and felt a tug in my heart when they called me “Coach”.

“Uncle Roy,” Phoebe hummed as he gathered the team at the end of practice. “Can we try to get past you?”

Roy glanced in my direction before shrugging. “You girls really want to play?”

The resounding YES had me wondering what ‘getting past’ Roy meant. As if she could sense my curiosity, Phoebe tugged my hand.

“You’re going to love this, Coach Buck,” she gushed. “It’s our favorite!”

The girls lined up, bouncing with excitement, while Roy grabbed a ball and jogged towards one of the goals made of a couple of cones. With the ease of someone who’d done this dozens of times, he rolled the ball to Kokoruda, who was first in line. She immediately began dribbling towards Roy and made a respectable attempt to score on the experienced player.

“Next!” he barked after kicking the ball out of bounds.

One by one, the girls tried to score on Roy; and each one failed.

“You don’t go easy on them?” I probed as I trotted over to Roy to return another ball to him.

He caught the ball with ease. “Fuck no,” he chuckled. “Their opponents won’t ever go easy on ‘em, will they? Why should I?”

Before I could concede that he had a point, Phoebe called out, “Coach Bucky! You should try!”

With a smirk, Roy tossed the ball back to me. “Yeah, Coach Bucky. You should try.”

Maybe it was being around the girls, maybe it was the cockiness on Roy Kent’s face. Maybe it was something else. “Fine, I’ll try,” I shot back, taking my place at the front of the line. I looked at the girls. “Any of you ever get it past him?” When they all shook their heads, my grin grew. “Well, guess he’s due for a loss then.”

I stood with my foot on top of the ball for a moment, just staring down Roy Kent. He narrowed his eyes playfully, a smile almost breaking through his serious glare. With a deep breath, I began dribbling, wondering when I had last just played like this. Roy jogged out to meet me, expertly trying to get the ball out of my control. We moved this way, that way; I was a bit surprised how well I was doing against him, if I was being honest.

“Not going easy on me, are you Kent?” I huffed, very aware of the way his body pressed against mine as he tried to steal the ball from behind me.

“Not a fucking chance,” he assured me, his breath tickling my neck.

With what I hoped was a casual chuckle, I found my opening, evading Roy and making my way towards the goal, a smaller target than I was used to. As I inched forward, I felt a pair of hands brush my sides, warm and playful.

Phoebe’s giggling voice interrupted the reeling in my head. “Uncle Roy, that’s a foul!”

“Right!” came a gruff voice behind me, laughing as the hands disappeared.

Able to return my focus to the ball at my feet, I sprinted forward, ankle be damned, and broke away from Roy; the ball sailed between the cones with ease, giving me that old, thrilling feeling of scoring a goal. When I turned around, the girls were cheering- and Roy was smiling at me.

“My knee’s fucked,” he huffed jokingly between breaths, hands on his hips as he approached. “That was hardly fair.”

I quirked an eyebrow at him as we started to walk back towards the team. “Oh, and what would you call my ankle?”

His smile widened. “Also fucked.”

Before I could snark back, the girls tackled me with hugs and shouts, clearly impressed that anyone could get past their burly coach. Roy eyed me over their heads, his face soft, reminding me of the night of the gala. All I could do was grin back at him, wondering if he felt the same warmth in his chest that I felt.

Roy dismissed his team, reminding them about their upcoming game, one they begged me to come watch. To my shock, a few parents stopped me to shake my hand and ask if they could get a picture of me with their daughter; that warm feeling in my chest grew with each “My daughter adores you!” or “It’s so cool that you came!” The whole time, Roy and Phoebe collected the equipment, with Phoebe watching me with great interest.

As the last of the girls left, I meandered over to the coach and his niece, stopping when I found myself looking into those brown eyes.

“Thanks, Kent,” I said, wondering if he could hear the thick emotion in my voice. “This… this was exactly what I needed.”

His eyes sparkled. “What, a bunch of little girls worshipping you?”

A snort escaped when I tried to hold back my laughter. “They didn’t worship-”

“Fuck off,” he chuckled, giving me a soft punch in the arm. “They fucking adored you. You’re their queen or some shit. Seriously-” He bobbled his head playfully. “-they’re probably planning a coup to get rid of me so you can be their coach.” He pointed to Pheobe, who was hovering nearby, obviously anxious to interrupt our conversation. “And that little traitor will be leading the fucking cavalry.” He waved her over. “Come say goodnight, Phoebe.”

Phoebe wrapped her arms around me, giving a squeeze. “Thank you for coming,” she gushed before letting go. “You know I have your poster in my room?” Her smile was full of pride. “I told Uncle Roy I wanted one, so he got one for me. It’s right above my dresser, so I can see it when I get ready for football.”

My jaw dropped slightly as my gaze shifted between Phoebe and Roy, who shrugged at me. Before I could think of something to say, he opened his mouth.

“I’ll make you a deal, Pheebs,” he started, eyes fixated on me. “You score in our next match, I’ll take you to see the Whippets, and we can ask very nicely if Coach Buck here will sign your poster.”

A lump formed in my throat when I saw the delight on Phoebe’s face. “Yeah,” I managed to choke out as I blinked back tears. “I could do that.”

There was a dull ache in Roy’s knee when he arrived at the Dog Track early the next morning, but it was a hell of a lot better than the sharp pain in his chest that seemed to be slowly disappearing. He figured he’d pop into the treatment room, grab some ice and baby his knee before getting ready for training.

When he walked through the door, he realized he wasn’t the only one that needed some tending to.

There she was, leg propped up on a chair, ice on her ankle as she scrolled on her phone. Her head snapped up at the sound of the door opening, and her face broke into one of those perfect smiles when she saw it was Roy. Without a word, they both started chuckling, almost relieved to see that the other had also overdone it the night before.

“Guess you meant it when you said you weren’t going easy on me,” she mused, watching Roy grab himself an ice pack.

He chuckled and rolled up his trackpants to expose his knee, flinching slightly as the cold touched his bare skin. “You’d fucking kill me if I did,” he pointed out. “It’d be fucking insulting.” After a moment of silence, staring at each other’s injuries, Roy opened his mouth again. “I’ll be at your game tonight,” he murmured, hoping he sounded casual.

Instead of the surprised look he expected, he swore he saw pleasure on her face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He let his eyes linger on her face. “I know the guys’ve been trying to go to as many matches as possible to show their support. Told Sam and Jamie I’d be joining them tonight. Richmond til we die, right?”

“Richmond til we die,” she repeated, her soft smile nearly stopping Roy’s heart.

Their quiet moment was interrupted by the door opening again. Rebecca stood with her hand on the doorknob, eyebrows raised at the sight of her two managers grinning at each other and icing their injuries.

“Good morning, coaches,” she greeted in a light voice, eyebrows raising slightly higher when she locked eyes with Roy before turning to the Whippets manager. “Just wanted to check in, I know you’ve got a long day. Match is at six, I believe some of the Greyhounds will be there again-”

Roy couldn’t resist piping up. “We will be.”

Rebecca didn’t bother hiding her smile as she went on. “After the match, Keeley will take Lucas to the press room, and you and I can-”

This time, the other manager interrupted her. “No.”

“No?” Rebecca blinked.

“Fuck it,” she sighed, sitting up and tossing her ice pack aside. “This is my team, right? I’m doing the press conference. Luke has covered for me long enough.”

Rebecca tilted her head sympathetically. “Are you sure?”

For a moment, those eyes turned to Roy, silently asking for his thoughts, as though his opinion mattered to her. When he gave her the tiniest, almost unnoticeable nod, she looked back at Rebecca, head held high. “Hell yeah.”

Roy had chosen the right match to come to, he realized. A 4-0 win to move into first place had him grinning with the Greyhounds as they cheered on the Whippets before they disappeared back into the tunnel. For a moment, he locked eyes with Buck, who tapped her fingers to her temple, giving Roy’s signature little salute. He saluted back, ignoring the grin on Jamie’s face. Maybe, just maybe, the two managers could grab a drink together to celebrate her win. Roy’s treat, of course. She’d more than earned it.

But first, she had a press conference to give. The Whippets and Greyhounds, intent on celebrating together, assembled in the weight room and gathered around the televisions on the wall. Roy stood right in front, Jamie by his side, eyes glued to the screen as she took her seat, red lips curled into a perfect smile.

Initially, the questions were typical post-match queries: how did she feel about the performance, what did she have to say about this error, how thrilling was that goal. And she handled them all with ease, reminding Roy of that first press conference he’d watched, where he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. But now, instead of a scowl, he almost wore a smile watching her, and he finally understood why his heart was hammering so hard. Yeah, this was good. She was good.

Until the questions weren’t good.

“Roy Kent was in the stands today,” one reporter called out. “Any thoughts on that?”

Her smile faltered as her eyes shifted away from the crowd in front of her. “Oh. Yes, the Greyhounds have been great in showing their support for the Whippets.” Her smile returned, though not as confident as before. “We’re overdue to cheer them on, so keep an eye out for us at their next match!”

Another question came at her. “What is your relationship with Roy now?”

She cleared her throat. “All the coaches here at Richmond have a great respect and fondness for one another. We’re lucky to have two great staffs that work together so well. It’s how we get wins like the one we had today, on both the men’s and women’s sides.”

Roy felt his face burn, along with several pairs of eyes staring at him. He didn’t care that she avoided the question; it was the same non-answer Keeley had given him to spout out whenever he got asked the same thing. It was the way the question came out, accusatory and aggressive, that had him frowning.

“Does your dominant personality play a role in your relationship with Roy Kent?”

There was no denying the way she scrunched her nose, fully understanding the implication. “Again, all of us coaches hold each other in high regard and have great professional relationships. Now, if you want to talk dominance, out there on the field today, Kira-”

“Speaking of Kira Malone,” a gruff voice interrupted. “She was recently seen at a pub with Jamie Tartt. Do you think your affair with Roy Kent has made the Whippets think it’s okay to run around with the Greyhounds? Is that professional?”

She began sputtering for the first time. “I would hardly call it an affair- But honestly, they’re adults, they’re professionals, I honestly-”

“And you were spotted with Ted Lasso recently,” another voice called out. “Can we assume you’ve moved on from Roy Kent?”

Her eyes widened, but she tried to recover her cool. “Coach Lasso’s a great coach. I-”

A harsh laugh rang out of the speakers. “Yeah, what does Kent think of your relationship with his ex-manager?”

Roy took a step towards the door; he knew that running into that press room would make things worse, would be a headline every paper would be running in the morning, but he didn’t give a fuck. His whole body was burning with fury as he listened to them challenge and fucking laugh at her.

A hand clasped his shoulder; Jamie was shaking his head, eyes full of sympathy, as if he too wanted to rush in and rescue her. But they both knew that she needed to do this on her own.

“Oi, is Roy why you always wear that red lipstick? Should we expect to see it on his collar sometime?”

She looked small, so impossibly small, not at all like the woman Roy had been fighting with and falling for all these months. Her defiance disappeared under their demeaning questions, her fierceness was stolen by their laughter, her cockiness was stifled by their mockery.

“What kind of example do you think you’re setting for the girls of Richmond? Sleeping with Roy Kent and all?”

That seemed to be the question that knocked the fight out of her.

“Oh, fuck this,” Roy growled, tugging out his phone. He quickly typed six little words, the first text message he’d ever sent her.

Don’t you fucking dare play nice.

Her eyes flickered to her phone, eyebrows raising; Roy knew she’d gotten his message. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting them continue to shout and shame her. Finally, she sat up tall, jaw set, and stared down the crowd in front of her.

“You know what?” she asked, her voice low and gravely. “Fuck these questions you keep asking me.” Roy was sure he heard Keeley squeak on the television. “You’re not asking Roy Kent these questions. You’re not asking if he’s a good role model. You’re not questioning his ability to manage his team.” She shook her head. “What message am I sending to young girls? Really? How about what message are you sending?”

Roy was sure it was Kira Malone’s voice behind him calling out, “Fuck yeah, Buck!”

She sat up taller now. “I am a fucking Olympian. I am a champion coach. I have won more titles and trophies and medals than this entire building combined.”

“Tell ‘em, Coach!” Jamie laughed, nodding up at her face onscreen.

Roy’s mind wandered, of all places, to his niece. To the way she adored that loud, abrasive woman, a woman who was standing up for girls like Phoebe. A lump formed in his throat as he listened; fuck, he might actually fucking cry. And he didn’t care if the Greyhounds saw the tears in his eyes. He didn’t even care about the way Jamie was staring at him; he was too enraptured by the scene unfolding on the television.

“I chose to sleep with a nice man one time, and suddenly all my accomplishments don’t matter? Who cares about Olympic gold when you’ve gone to bed with Roy Kent? What defines me is who I go home with? What message is that for the daughters of Richmond? You’re telling your girls that their accomplishments and dreams are nothing compared with what they do in the bedroom. No.” Her eyes were hard and steely as she shook her head. “Fuck this. I’m done. If I wanted to go and sleep with Roy Kent tonight, that’s my own damn business. If I wanted to sleep with any other man, or woman, or whoever, that’s my business.”

Shouts of agreement echoed through the weight room, from both Whippets and Greyhounds. A smile crept across Roy’s lips; fuck, she was incredible. If he wasn’t in love before, he definitely was now.

“What example am I setting for the girls of Richmond?” she asked with a dry laugh. “Not letting jackasses like you question our worth because of a man. That’s the example I’m setting. So if you’re here to ask about my sex life, you can fuck right off. It’s not up for debate, not anymore. It’s not what we’re talking about, now or ever. What I’m here to talk about is the fact that the Whippets are in first place and are expected to finish in the top three in our first damn season. How about you ask me about that?”

My heartbeat throbbed in my ears as I stood up, only vaguely registering the female reporters and handful of men who also stood, clapping and calling out words of support. I grabbed my phone and rushed out of the press room, not bothering to look at Keeley and Rebecca; I’d apologize to them later. I’d do whatever Keeley needed me to do to spin this. I’d offer to do whatever public appearances Rebecca demanded.

But first, I needed to get to my office to hyperventilate in peace.

As my feet did their job, carrying me down the halls, I became aware of the sound of… clapping? Cheering?

When I turned the last corner that would take me to the changing room, I finally stopped in my tracks.

Lining the hall were both Richmond teams, a beautiful jumble of smiles and applause and cheers, all watching me with affection. Suddenly, I found myself smothered with hugs and kisses and handshakes. Kira held me close, whispering in my ear about how proud she was to play for me; Jamie Tartt kissed my forehead and called me a bad-ass; over and over, Greyhounds and Whippets embraced me and offered their love and support.

By the time I reached the locker room, tears were freely streaming down my face, releasing all the emotion I’d been holding back in the press room; hell, all the emotion I’d been holding back since Keeley first showed me the photos of me and Roy.

The Greyhounds coaches stood in front of the locker room, pride shining on their faces. Beard and Nate each held me tight, murmuring about how amazed they were. Finally, Roy stood in front of me, his eyes watery as he gazed down at me.

“Welcome back, Coach,” he hummed, sticking out his hand.

I grasped his hand, shaking it firmly, unable to hold back my tearful smile. “Good to be back, Coach,” I murmured. I gave his hand a squeeze before letting go. “And thank you,” I whispered.

He shook his head softly. “Anytime.”

A pair of arms wrapped around me; Lucas was hugging me, tighter than anyone else had. “I’m so proud of you,” he choked out, crying almost as hard as I was. “So fucking proud, kid.”

With one last look at Roy, I let Lucas steer me into our office, listening to him chatter about how much he loved my little speech. I collapsed in my chair and laughed, from disbelief that I had just done that. My phone went off; George.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, wiping my face. “Did ya see me?”

“What the hell, Buck?” he hissed. “You just made things so much harder on yourself. They’re not going to forgive you for this. They’re not going to like you after this. Trust me, I know these people.”

When Lucas saw the way my face fell, he gave my shoulder a squeeze and left, figuring I needed some privacy.

I hunched over my desk and clutched my phone to my face. “To be honest, George, I don’t think I care if they like me. They don’t respect me, so why do I care if they think I’m nice?” I shook my head. “I’m proud of myself, actually. And so is my team. And so are the Greyhounds.” And so is Roy Kent, a little voice in the back of my head whispered.

He paused. “It was good,” he sighed. “You sounded great. Honestly, it was a great ‘girl power’ moment.” There was another moment of quiet on his end before his voice turned thoughtful. “You know, I bet we could do a great article about this. Give your side of things, talk all about the slut-shaming and double standards-”

“Didn’t you listen to what I said?” I scoffed, sensing someone approaching my office. “I’m fucking done talking about this. I’m not answering questions about this, ever again. Everyone knows I had sex with Roy Kent, that’s more than they need to know. I don’t owe anyone anything else.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Why don’t we grab a late dinner? Could, I dunno, celebrate your win or something.”

For the first time since we met, I had no interest in seeing George Willows. “Not tonight,” I muttered. “I just… want to go home. Sleep. Avoid Twitter.” I finally turned, realizing it was, of all people, Roy hovering in my doorway. “Listen, I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Not waiting for a reply, I hung up, tossing my phone on my desk before turning my chair around, raising my eyebrows teasingly at Roy. “Need something? Or are you going to send me another inspiring text message?”

He stared at me, mouth open like he was about to speak. Finally, he just shook his head and let out a breathy chuckle. “Fuck,” he breathed, stepping further into my office. “You… you were fucking something today, you know that?”

I shook my head and stood up, meeting him in the middle of the room. “Kent-”

“No.” He smirked at me. “Take the fucking compliment.” He shrugged. “I just wanted to tell you I was… really impressed today.” He cleared his throat. “On the field. In the press room. You’re a fucking great manager.” He let out a deep breath, eyes shifting around the office. “Don’t think I’ve told you that, and I’m sorry I haven’t.” He met my gaze, his smirk becoming a smile. “And I am very glad Phoebe has someone like you to look up to. So… that’s it, I guess.”

Roy Kent was looking at me with admiration. Roy Kent, who’d hated me and screamed at me. Roy Kent, who’d slept with me. Roy Kent, who asked me to speak to a girls’ soccer team. Roy Kent.

Roy Kent, who I wrapped my arms around and pulled into a hug. Not giving a shit about anything outside my tiny office, I pressed my body close to his, squeezing him tight. I buried my face in his shoulder, letting my tear-stained face dampen his Greyhounds shirt. His words, the look on his face, they were exactly what I needed.

His hands hovered over my hips, not returning the embrace, and I could hear him clear his throat, the vibration rumbling against my chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Immediately regretting my impulsive action, I pulled back, positive my face was bright red. “Shit,” I mumbled, my mind reeling from the roller coaster of emotions I was having tonight. “Sorry, I-”

Suddenly, I was pulled back to Roy’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I swore he sighed when my arms returned to his neck, and when my head hit his chest, I could hear his heart pounding, just as hard as I knew mine was. We stood there, hugging, wrapped up in whatever little world we were in, away from the press and the rumors and the judgement.

Just me and Roy.

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