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plutolovesyou · 1 month

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how soon is now? | part two

READ THIS FIRST 🇵🇸

previous chapter. series masterlist.

♡: hallway crush!ellie x uni student!reader

☆: the long-awaited second part of this godforsaken fic (lawd she’s given me trouble). appreciate y'all's patience as always, i'm a chronic procrastinator and perfectionist but what can i do. after this, i'm gonna take a break from this series. not saying i'll never write more, but wanna work on some other stuff for a while. thank you for reading! pretty please don’t hate me or show up at my house waving torches and pitchforks for this ending ok luv u gays in my phone. + a big thank you to @total-dxmure for helping me w/ some ideas for the last little bit!

♧:5.7k word count (lawd)

◇: sfw! miscommunication (sawry). fluffy moments, angst lowkey…both of yall cry at one point or another, reader has anxiety in the last chunk. modern au but joel isn’t alive in this, and they discuss it. maybe some rushed points here and there, i’m not really the proudest of this but needed to finish it anyway. potentially horrendous pacing but ok i think that’s all? idfk i may give y’all a little epilogue eventually, but don't dwell on it for the time being!

4 months later

Your friendship with Ellie was evolving wonderfully. You two were studying together frequently, and both your grades in the ghastly astrophysics class increased exponentially. Although that wasn't the only thing that was increasing at a rate too fast to fathom. Your crush on her. It was ripping you apart like wildfire, Ellie was proving herself to be such a wonderful person inside and out, and you were slowly but surely nearing your limit of how much it could build before you burst. A movie spin off of the Savage Starlight series had come to streaming, and Ellie had invited you to her place for a movie night so you two could watch it and discuss if it was a faithful entry in your beloved series or not.

Dressed in some comfortable pjs and armed with snacks of all kinds, your favorites as well as hers, the time had come and you were at her door. You straighten your posture and put your hair back in place, must look presentable, then knock, knock, knock.

You could hear some faint shuffling behind the door, then a few thudding steps until she opened it for you. She was dressed in an old, worn Nirvana tee, and red checkered pajama pants, damn she looked good, even when she was dressed with less effort than usual.

Ellie looked so pleased to see you, leaning on the doorframe. Why did she have to look so good all the time? “Hi! I’m so glad you came, ooh this is gonna be so fun.” She invited you in and took the snacks from your arms and placed them inside her room. “Oh yeah, I also put up some decor too so we can get into the Savage Starlight spirit.” Her eyes were wide and twinkling and when she stepped aside to let you see, she really had made her room so welcoming and comfortable.

The lights were all off save for LEDs around the room’s perimeter set to a dreamy violet hue, sparkly fairy lights draped around the frame of her bed which was set up so cozily. Her laptop propped up on a pillow, the sheets arranged in a nest-like formation with two spaces for each of you. She even had a few dinosaur stuffed animals placed in a row so they could watch too.

You were so flattered she'd do that and make the atmosphere so nice for the two of you, you could just tackle her in a hug and never let go.

The thing is you were scared she'd perceive that as weird and you didn't feel like dying of embarrassment, not today at the very least. Save that for another day, maybe. Oh, how you wanted to squeeze her so bad. Your imagination had to do for now.

She was standing there so proud of how she arranged her room into a mini theater, and you beamed at her, silently thanking her for making it so dim so she couldn't see your flustered expression in full.

“Ellie this is amazing!!” “You like it?!? These stupid lights kept on falling off but since this is an important occasion for us both I didn't give up. All for our love, Daniela.” She manipulated her voice and waved in the air with two fists, closed her eyes and put her hand over her heart, just being as dorky as ever.

Oh gosh, hopefully it wasn't going to be awkward. Sure, the two of you had grown to be great friends, but were you that close to be just, relaxing in her bed together? As long as your imagination didn't run too wild and you didn't overthink anything, it was going to be a fun time. Just two pals watching their favorite series, nothing more, nothing less.

She threw herself in the mess of comforters with a grunt, and saw you were hesitating. She patted the empty space next to her so you'd join her and the movie night could begin. “C’mere, don't be shy.” Well, no shit you were going to be shy. Suck it up.

You crawled in next to her, unable to look her in the eyes, while she got everything ready and rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Man, if they do our girl dirty, we’re gonna have to give someone a knuckle sandwich, you with me?” Her jokes and easy going vibes always made her so fun to be around, but unfortunately for you, you fell harder for her every time. “Yeah, Ellie. A knuckle sandwich for all of them.” You retorted with a chuckle. Once both of you were settled, she pressed play and so it began.

As the movie played, the two of you laughed and debated every plot twist, cursing the directors for not portraying your queen Daniela how she deserves, and snacked on candy until your stomachs hurt. It was going so well, the friendly hang out both of you needed after so many responsibilities in life. An escape. Occasionally sneaking peeks Ellie’s way, she was just so marvelously pretty. The shadows dancing on her features, illuminating her side profile perfectly, her long eyelashes and button nose, who wouldn't get lost in admiring her?

Of course you could never fully relax around her, or forget the crush no matter how hard you tried to push it down and just be friends. Every time she shifted next to you in the bed you felt your heart seize and the butterflies in your stomach turn into hornets. At this rate, they were going to turn into whole birds for fuck’s sake.

Nearing the end of the movie, the two of you were so invested, so captivated in the events, totally spellbound.

But then the film took a more emotional turn that wasn't in the comics. Daniela and her father had an absolutely vicious argument which left the two of you speechless watching it, which luckily got quickly resolved right after the two characters had a near-death experience together.

You weren't one to get emotional over silly, trivial things like fiction, but the way they showed this entire sequence was nothing short of heart-wrenching. You snatched up one of Ellie's patterned pillows and hugged it tightly to your chest, because cuddling her would have been much too bold for the likes of you. But what you’d give to do that instead.

Seems you were not the only one touched by the scene, as you began to hear some light sniffling from next to you. Looking over at Ellie made your heart break further into a million pieces. She looked lost in thought with thin lines of tears streaming down her plump, freckled cheeks.

You froze for a moment, not knowing the limits of your relationship with her and how you could comfort her best. So you cleared your throat and mumbled, “That was so sad…” You watched as she avoided your gaze and wiped at her face with the collar of her t-shirt, “Yeah, this kind of stuff hits me, feels a little personal y’know.” She has never opened up to you about her struggles before, in the short time you’ve known and gotten close with Ellie, it always seemed like she was there to help you out, not the other way around. This could be your chance to show her that you are there for her as well, and that she can always count on you.

Being curious but at the same time not wishing to pry too much into her private affairs, you quietly asked with the most gentle tone of voice you could muster,” You don’t have to, but I’m here if you ever wanna talk about it, Ellie.” You watched her out of the corner of your eye, anticipating however she reacts.

She stayed quiet for a beat before sighing deeply, and whispered, “We were having a fun time, I really don't wanna be a burden.” Her voice quivered, heavy with emotion, what could possibly be troubling her this much? You wanted to take all her pain and bear it yourself, she didn't deserve any sort of misfortune ever.

“You can tell me, don’t worry about anything, okay? I just want you to be all good.” You were comforting her so smoothly, putting her needs and well-being first as if it was always second nature, as if you two have known each other many lifetimes over, two souls meant to float together through the journey of life. Well okay, that was probably a bit much.

There were a few more seconds of silence as you let the question ring in the air, not wanting to press and jeopardize your cherished friendship with her.

You continue observing her, almost seeing the gears turning in her mind, the scales of reason tipping to one side then another, as she contemplates whether it’s worth spilling. Eventually, she does.

She roughly rubs her face then pauses the film playing on her laptop, sighs and huffs, before beginning to speak her story, all while looking away from you.

“Okay I don’t like to talk about this kind of stuff, but I trust you. A whole lot.” Your heart fluttered and face heated up at her comment, but you ignored it because there was something much more important on the table now. She continues, speaking quietly but quickly to get it over with.

“So, when I was a kid, I was an orphan and to be honest I don’t really remember my early childhood much at all, but when I was 14 my adoptive dad, Joel, took me in. And it’s been just us since then.” She stops to take a breath, then resumes reluctantly. “And well, we’ve had a pretty rocky relationship for a good chunk of these years, I never knew how to express my gratitude to him, y’know, for basically saving my life, numerous times at that. He was always my rock, and I appreciate him every day. He taught me so many things, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t come around. I was pretty hard to deal with back then.” She reminisces with an exhale of air, and you see her eyes refill with tears. “But I’m really bad at expressing that, and will kinda, lash out I guess when I’m met with kindness or tricky situations.”

You nod, listening patiently, and place your hand on her shoulder ever so gently, as a result making her raise her head to give you a small smile.

Ellie chuckled deeply, it almost sounded forced, then started to slowly wrap up her story. “And it seems that scene kinda hit me, because the wounds are still raw, or whatever.”

She sniffles again but doesn't respond, so you delicately inquire, “What do you mean?”

“He died last year.” Oof.

“Oh my, Ellie, I’m so sorry, are you-” She interrupts your condolences. “No need for that, I’m fine. Well, taking it day by day y’know. In the beginning it was really tough, I was angry at everything but most at myself for being such a jerk, and now I can't turn back time and tell him all I wanted to.” While you take a moment to think about what to say, she hums to herself and remarks, “That actually felt good to get off my chest, I haven't told anyone about it.” She lowers her voice so it’s barely a whisper. “Didn't have who to tell.”

“Sure you're okay? I'm always here for you.” You find your voice back to soothe her some more, to which she smiles at you again, only this time it actually seems genuine. There's definitely a lot of pain behind it, but the relief that she doesn't have to deal with the burden alone was evident on her face.

“Yeah, thanks. I guess I hadn’t processed anything, and that part of the movie made it all come out, damn I hate emotions sometimes. But I appreciate you being here for me. You're really easy to talk to, and I feel better now.”

And you would've never in a trillion years anticipated what her next move was going to be, you were so caught off guard, the realization lagged and it didn't immediately register.

She moved to sit on her knees in front of you, then threw her arms around your torso in a tight embrace. She hugged you. Clutched you so firmly against her own body, her strong hands landing in the middle of your back, where she rubbed in a circle. She smelled so nice, and was as warm as one of her heated stuffed animals.

Due to the surprising nature of the motion you let out a dumbfounded gasp, then returned the hug allowing yourself to rest your head on her shoulder. You wanted to stay like this forever, until the end of time, it felt nicer than you could've ever imagined.

The thought crossed your mind that she could feel the buzz pulsating through your body, you swore your heart was slamming against your ribcage so hard it was going to grow wings and simply fly right out of your chest, and join hands with hers.

While you were occupied with the way she felt against you, so close like this, chest against chest, and how your cheeks blazed with an inferno hotter than a thousand suns, you heard her grumble against your ear. “Not gonna make that same mistake again, and from now on, I'm gonna tell the people I appreciate just how much they matter to me.”

You were much too stunned to speak, but she wasn't. “So thank you again.” She finishes her little speech and pulls away first, but not before giving you one last big squeeze and letting out a noise of contentment as she does so, then shuffles over to her previous spot in the bed.

Not taking notice of the way you were at a loss for words, or about to set the room on fire with how flustered her actions made you. Her obliviousness was a common theme, it seemed. She clears her throat and claps, grabbing some more candy for herself, then says happily, “We still got the rest of the movie left, then we can do whatever after. I really wanna know how this ends.”

Naturally, your head is spinning, but you were too caught up in your thoughts to continue paying attention to the movie as much as you were before.

You felt awful for her, yet somehow, felt as if your crush on her had quadrupled in size yet again. You saw through the guard she put up, she broke down those walls and opened up to you. You were honored she trusted you so much, and only hoped that would never change. That, coupled with how remarkably good hugs she gave, has led you to the realization that you were properly in love now, things had gotten real. This was trouble. You vowed to always be there for her for whatever she could ever need, you'd drop everything to teleport by her side if you could.

Goodness, what were you possibly going to do now, instead of giving you the ick, or helping you with the task of getting rid of that stupid infatuation you were so plagued by, every experience felt like a deliberate ploy to just make you fall even further for her. You couldn't help but wonder just how much love a person can feel for someone, because it only continued to grow.

A couple days later.

Sitting in the cozy campus cafe, you were revising all your coursework. It was giving you a massive headache, but the warm and hazy lighting aided it a touch. The walls had cute plastic vines crawling up and down, and even though there was chatter all around you from the other patrons, it wasn't a distraction and in fact acted as some sort of white noise, everyone was talking in a nicely muted tone, it all blended to create the perfect ambience.

You waved down the waitress to get yet another cup of coffee, your third one of the night, that’s healthy, before trying to resume with your aggravating studies.

To your dismay, you've used up all your brain power for the evening, and could not force yourself to continue no matter how hard you tried. Maybe a few moments of peaceful people-watching would get you back on track?

You sip on the hot drink, then lean back against the comfortable booth seat to begin scanning around.

In one corner directly on the opposite side of where you were sitting, there was an elderly couple. They looked so in love, dressed in matching outfits, feeding each other as they shared a dessert, holding hands and conversing with a hushed tone, nodding and looking into each other's twinkling eyes. So cute, you hoped that was going to be you in the future.

Moving your line of sight to watch beside the couple, there was another student, their books and computer were scattered across the wooden table, piles of pens and pencil cases near falling over. They seemed to have fallen asleep, unmoving with their head laid tiredly across their crossed arms. The sight made you chuckle out of familiarity, you really felt for them, studies were hard.

But then a sound caught your attention. A bright, husky giggle fought its way over the ambience, reminiscent of a certain someone.

Your heart jumped, your ears perked up and you immediately became insistent on scouting her out among the patrons, this was a necessary mission.

Feeling highly nervous and antsy, you try to drown out the noise and focus on where she could be, and quickly enough, you find her.

Ellie in her natural habitat, she was so mesmerizing. Sitting far away from you where you could get a good view and hear snippets of conversation if you focused hard enough, but not close enough where she would notice your shameless gawking. She was sitting with a group of a handful of her friends, who all appeared to be gossiping and laughing with each other, you couldn't tear your eyes away.

Her smile was gorgeous, and you knew that, but there was something about just being a spectator which fascinated you, you could stare at her all day. Her energy lit up the entire room, and made your heart race.

Snapping out of your trance and trying to not be so obvious with your staring, you tried to look occupied, tried reorganizing your notes while still keeping an ear out to listen. Occasionally glancing over as well. Yes, it's true that eavesdropping is wrong, but you couldn't help yourself. Anyone would do the same, right?

The group's passionate discussion was making you extremely curious however, and you strained to hear what they were talking about. Among the muffled chatter, you heard a woman’s voice say the word crush, then an outburst of laughter, the loudest guffaw from Ellie herself.

You felt the budding panic start to form in your chest momentarily, but swallowed the lump forming in your throat and took a sharp intake of breath to calm yourself at once. They could be talking about anything, there's no need to jump to conclusions just yet. Fumbling around your bag for your headphones to listen to some of the song recommendations Ellie had given you, you’re led to discover that they are, in fact, dead. Of course.

Despite any and all wishes to stop eavesdropping on them and mind your own business and abide by what they say, ignorance is bliss, you simply couldn't. She was too damn captivating. Like a painting in a museum, like a statue at a town’s center, one that people stopped in their tracks to admire.

The way her eyes sparkled and gleamed under the warm lighting, her cheeks tinted a faint rosy hue from the exertion of laughing so hard, her sweet smile. She was too perfect. God, you hated crushes, being infatuated with someone to this degree couldn't be healthy. But what could you do? Just look at this angel.

Fidgeting nervously while still being entranced by the group of friends, you heard a man’s voice say the words “there’s no way”, followed by Ellie howling even harder than she had the whole time you've been watching them, and punch him forcefully on the shoulder.

The curiosity was going to swallow you whole, it was like a car crash you couldn't look away from. You felt your palms begin to tremble and sweat with worry, and anxious assumptions of all kinds running through your mind, were they talking about you? No, they couldn't be, you're just overthinking it. Relax, relax, relax.

You tried your hardest to control your breathing and soothe your spinning mind so you wouldn't spiral, until you heard something that absolutely shook you to your core.

The same woman from before, not Ellie, in a highly teasing tone of voice said your name.

You felt frozen, this couldn't be happening. All your worst fears were coming true at this very moment. You had to get out of there right away, this was too much to bear. Curiosity really did kill the cat didn't it, you wished you didn't comply with the morbid desire to know everything.

Panic-stricken like a deer in headlights, near hyperventilating at this point, the final straw was all three of them erupting into laughter simultaneously, with Ellie through gasps, going "oh come onnnn”.

Yeah that was it. Hot tears started pricking your eyes and you vigorously blinked them away before they started streaming down your face, as if you needed to be humiliated even more. You felt sadded, torn apart, betrayed. Sick to your stomach too. This time, for once, you really thought you had something going for you. From your perspective, albeit through rose-colored glasses, you were convinced she was being genuine with you all this time. How could you not be?

The late night study sessions, the air thick with tension, the conversations draped in a sleep-deprived haze, the walks to class together, the first fated interaction, the looks you two shared from across the huge lecture hall; the looks where you two just knew when to share a glance, was all of that fake? Was she leading you on purposefully because her friends thought it was funny, that you were a joke?

The tears threatened to spill and your stomach twisted painfully with the world-shattering realizations you were just served with, and you angrily shoved your belongings in your bag.

You were too caught up in your panicked frenzy to notice how disruptive you were actually being, your textbooks thumping and keychains jingling, but frankly didn't care enough to meet the numerous pairs of eyes observing your misfortune. Who could blame you, your whole world and everything you've known just crumbled before you.

You slung your bag over your shoulder noisily as a choked sob made its way up your throat, then speed-walked out of that cafe. You were never going to be able to go in there again unfortunately, shame, their pastries were so good.

Right as you tried to step through the door it got stuck, because the universe was being really nice to you today, and as you tugged on it to get it to open, you heard the friends lower their voices, but you could still make out a jumble of hushed words sounding something like, “oh no, is that…” Great, great, fucking great. The only solution to this was to change your name and ride up to Seattle for goodness’ sake, maybe throw yourself into a volcano as well just because.

Finally the door swung open after what felt like eons, and you stumbled outside into the chilly autumn air, feeling goosebumps spring up all over. Where you were going, you didn't really know. This cafe was new, so it would take some time to figure out navigation so you stood dumbly in the middle of the front lawn as you tried to orient yourself.

Once you think you've got it, you start your agonizing trek back to your little room, screaming inside of your head, until you're harshly yanked back mid-footstep by a vice grip on your arm. What the fuck was it now.

Ellie. The sight of her only made your tears increase in quantity and the emotion in your chest tighten. She looked a little disheveled, her eyes round like saucers, and she was gripping onto your arm so hard as if you were going to run away. You wanted to, but she still had a magnetic hold on you, even after all that turmoil.

Talking was painful with how much you were trying to keep a hold of yourself, but you managed out a choked, “Ellie, what?”

She looked befuddled, shaking her head ever so slightly and scrunching up her eyebrows, her gaze boring right into yours and following whenever you tried to break it and look elsewhere. Her hold on your arm softens, and moves to rest on your shoulder. “What do you mean what? You ran outta there like you were chased by a lunatic or something, what the fuck happened?”

Her tone startled you a little, why did she care so much? Noticing you jolt, she sighs and mellows her speech. “Sorry, what I mean to say is, I'm worried. Are you okay?”

You worried her? Heat rushed to your cheeks as you fought to break the increasingly uncomfortable eye contact, and all you could do was shrug. Your lip started quivering and you were losing the fight of keeping your composure, how wonderful. Despite everything she was being so sweet, way too sweet. You felt helpless at this point.

The words started pouring out of your mouth like a waterfall, you were properly sobbing now, falling apart and hiccuping as months and months of emotion spilled over.

You were blabbering about how you loved the friendship you formed with her, but how hurt you felt that she’d laugh about you, every possible insecurity just tumbled out of your lips, as you wiped at your teary face and runny nose and glanced at Ellie ever so often.

She let you talk for a bit until she saw you get even more upset, that's when she got a step closer to you, squeezed both your shoulders gently and kept a stern tone of voice to get your attention.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, slow down, I don't know what you're saying.” But you couldn't stop crying. Bottling up emotions was definitely a bad idea, because they were bound to burst sooner or later and unfortunately, you reached the breaking point. Sucking in some unsteady breaths as an attempt to regulate yourself, she was watching you patiently yet still cautiously.

Your voice was weak and shaky, but you were slowly feeling a little better. For the first time during this interaction, you meet her eyes. Why was she always so pretty? She was sculpted just to spite you, you were convinced. Tears welled up in your eyes once more, but you blinked them away. “Um…Ellie…” She nodded expectantly, wanting to know what was wrong. But you could not complete your sentence as yet another bout of ache washed over you.

To snap you out of it once and for all, Ellie grabbed your face. The sheer disbelief of her action was enough to stop your tears luckily, and she held your gaze while she used her thumb to swipe at the stray teardrops adorning your cheekbones. You wanted to die, what was going on?

Once your panic was replaced with fluster and stupefaction, she let you go, but was still standing really close to you. You felt jittery from it all, nervous, embarrassed and in love and everything under the sun all at the same time. You stared at her, then looked away, then looked at her plump pink lips which were set in a questioning pout, then back up to her sympathetic greener-than-grass eyes, fuck, fuck, fuck. The intensity of the situation had caused any sense of judgment or critical thinking to long, long gone, and so your body moved on its own and before you had a chance to form a solid thought or process what you were doing.

Smooch.

You kissed her.

Mouths colliding like magnets as you held onto the sides of her face, fireworks igniting in every single part of your body. Cradling her jaw as you closed the space between you two, the hurricane of emotion coursing through your veins as your lips caressed hers, and time felt like it had stopped. The months and months of excruciating pining had all led up to this very moment.

She instinctively kissed you back, you felt her breaths fanning your face. You were about to ascend to another dimension. Lingering against her for a little longer, you forced yourself to regretfully pull away, and laughed loudly at her state now.

Her lips were parted and she was gawking at you, you had broken her completely. Your own heart was working overtime, you were panting from the adrenaline of the situation, and could only hear the blood rushing in your ears.

She seemed to be in a coma, doing nothing but staring and breathing. You punched her arm playfully, your voice breaking.

“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.”

An frustrated confession tore itself from your throat, even the world's strongest iron bars couldn't contain it. You wiped at your face with your sleeves, a sad attempt to clear it of the residual salty tears that never once stopped their journey out of your eyes.

The sadness had left you, and you felt lighter now, truthfully. Had no idea how you would ever face her again after all this, but at least the cat was out of the bag and you had gotten that off of your chest. You both stood there in silence, now what was wrong with her? What a dork. Sucking on your teeth and kicking a pebble on the ground you admitted finally, “So, yeah. That's what's been troubling me, I guess.”

Her pupils were dilated and huge, as she scanned all over your features, her mouth opening and closing as if she was having an internal battle of what to say. She stood there almost appearing miles more shocked than you somehow, she looked as if she was going to have a heart attack and die on you, you found it funny, but concerning at the same time.

You watched her for a moment more, before accepting your disappointing fate and bidding her a goodbye. You cleared your throat. “Okay then. Cya in class. Bye.” You turned on your heel and began the walk back to your room, but this time for real, and didn't look back at her. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't, you wanted to leave this whole fiasco in the past. That chapter was closed, it seemed.

The only thing left to do now was call your bestie, Abby. She has been your cheerleader through this whole thing, through all this time, gave you advice and brought you back to Earth, and you needed her support now more than ever.

Right after you reached your dorm she was there in no time at all, after receiving your distress call she scrambled into action, with chocolates and boxed wine in hand. Maybe you should just date her instead at this point. Who else was left for you?

You talked and talked and talked to her about everything for so long, talking the night away just like old times, and she sat and listened to your every word, patted your back reassuringly as you weeped into her shoulder, then tucked you into bed at the end of it all. She left only when she was sure you'd relaxed fully.

You didn't fall asleep quite yet, and stayed awake thinking, pondering life and staring up at your ceiling. It turns out angrily confessing to the girl you've been infatuated with forever by impulsively kissing her and letting the whole campus know it was a tiring thing after all. You really did cause a bit of a scene, when you thought about it in hindsight.

But what was this all like from Ellie's perspective? You wished you could know what she thought, or at least gotten some sort of formal response. Her friend storms out of a cafe, kisses her and screams she's in love with her? It's certainly understandable she'd feel a little lost, or under great pressure to give you an answer. Her reaction did make sense though, after being met with such a shocking revelation. Wow, now that you were really thinking about it, she still did not know why you ran out of the cafe like that. You wished you could turn back time and redo this day, shame that wasn't possible. Were you two ever going to have a discussion about this, or had you just lost a friend for life. Oh no, you pushed that thought away as quickly as it appeared, you didn't have an ounce of energy left over to dwell on it.

You'd work out what you were going to face her next later, a very well-deserved visit to dreamland was way overdue. You felt your eyelids grow heavy and your breathing slow, so you turned on your side and snuggled into your bed, eventually falling into a deep, deep sleep.

Meanwhile on your bedside table:

Bzz, bzz, bzz.

lovely taggies: @lasting-lover @radioheadfan699 @sophie-thefrog8 @machetegirl109 @ellieschair @aouiaa @wavesgocrash @tangerinngi @elliesbitchvenus @amiorca @dinaissoprettyoml @rxreaqia @camicocom1a @elliesexual @smelliewilliams @boobdrug @writing-on-a-bathroom-stall @bready101 @yourelliewillms @ap3arll @bunnyrose01 @elliesactualgirlfriend @paranoiero @sakiigami @4ftergloww @ellstronaut @vqxen @desireesfics @lez-zuha @dyk3ang3l @iluvellie0089 @tphmnv @seraphicsentences @seaseasalts @biblically-accurate-ellie @deliriousrn @pxterpfx + a very special tag to @fleshunger hehe :)

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withleeknow · 5 months

Text

wishful thinking. (02)

chapter two: in plain sight

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut warnings: cursing, drinking, suggestive content at the end, could've been edited more but oh well lol word count: 4.9k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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Damn baby, I'm a train wreck, too I lose my mind when it comes to you I take time with the ones I choose And I don't want to smile if it ain't from you

boyfriend - Ariana Grande ft. Social House

You end up not seeing Minho, nor any of your other friends, at all in the few days leading up to Yeonjun’s party.

True to your words, you were mostly holed up in your place, running on nothing but caffeine and sheer frustration, trying to finish your elective class’ final paper on the differences between the views of Greek philosophers. Time really flies when you wish it would slow down, because you could've used a couple more days to perfect the godforsaken thing.

You’ve been texting Minho though, and honestly, the man is practically a saint. You barely even talked about anything besides your stupid paper and your high maintenance perfectionist professor, and yet, he still listened to you yap away. He even offered to help you with your footnotes and citations, which you didn’t need, but the gesture was nice. If you had turned to Seungmin with your whining, he probably would've muted your notifications after three messages.

Regardless, all complaining aside, you did manage to pull through and finish the paper in the end, letting out a big sigh of relief the very second you clicked on the Send button on yours and your professor’s email thread just five minutes before the deadline.

Before you know it, it's already Saturday and Minho should be here any minute now so you two could go to the party. You’ve been working hard. You deserve to let a little loose tonight.

Even though a college party isn’t exactly your top choice of ways to wind down from stress, the mention of free and unlimited booze sure does sound alluring.

When your phone lights up with a simple i’m here from Minho, you quickly throw on a cardigan over a simple black camisole and denim shorts and check your makeup in the mirror one last time before heading downstairs. He texted you a couple hours ago, saying he had some stuff to pick up near your place and asking if you wanted to walk to Yeonjun’s together. You sent him back an enthusiastic yes!!! in a matter of seconds, because lord knows you’d rather not enter the front door of that house unaccompanied.

You opted for a simple fit tonight, mostly because you couldn’t be bothered to put on anything more decent only to go to the equivalent of a frat party.

“Hey, Min.” Your voice pulls him away from scrolling through his phone, diverting his attention to you instead.

“Hey,” he says, tucking the device into the pocket of his jeans. When he gives you a once-over, you do a little twirl for him, finishing off with an exaggerated kick of your foot at the end. “You look nice.”

“Just ‘nice’? I’m trying to get laid tonight. ‘Nice’ isn’t gonna cut it,” you joke.

He stares at you, a bashful expression befalling his features, the corner of his mouth lifted upward as he smiles in hubris. “You’re trying to get laid by whom?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “You tell me.”

He rolls his eyes affectionately before throwing an arm around your shoulders to pull you close. One of his hands musses up your hair that you spent twenty minutes trying to make look perfect, prompting you to poke him in the side so he would let go of you.

“Hey!” you scowl, smoothing over the strands that he flicked out of place. “I worked hard on that!”

“Sorry,” he chuckles, clearly amused by the temporarily sulky look on your face. “Didn’t want you to look too pretty. Can’t have all of the attention on you. Someone might try to steal you away from me.”

“Did it occur to you that maybe I want some attention tonight? I’ve been a hermit all week, I deserve a little something.”

“Is my attention not enough for you?”

You squint at him for a second. Then, you start walking in the direction of Yeonjun’s house without waiting for him. You hear Minho launch a laugh your way, and the scuffling of his shoes on the concrete pavement as he easily catches up with you in a few strides.

He leans down to whisper directly into your ear, making your cheeks heat up but you’re glad that they’re partially masked by the poorly lit street. “You know you never have to try.”

The walk to the party takes about fifteen minutes. When you’re rounding the street corner that leads to Yeonjun’s place, you can already hear the booming music coming from the biggest house on the block. Even from a distance, you can see people on the lawn and the two balconies on the second floor. You gotta give it to the guy - he sure knows how to throw a party.

The second you enter the premises, you’re almost taken aback by how crowded it actually is even though you expected this. A typical Yeonjun party.

You tug on Minho’s shirt, beckoning him to bend down so you could talk into his ear over the sounds of bad EDM and people basically having to scream in each other’s faces. “Are Hyunjin and the others here yet?” you ask.

“They got here right before us. I think they’re in-”

“Y/N!” The two of you whip around at the sound of a shrill voice calling out your name. Yeonjun practically shoves his way through the crowd of people when he spots you, bounding up to you and Minho with a bright grin on his face. “Glad you could make it!” he says, paying no mind to the man next to you at all. He eyes you up and down, shamelessly tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. “Damn, you look really good tonight.”

You give him a playful eye roll. Nonetheless, you still tell him, “Thanks.”

“You look that good to come to my party?”

You don’t mind at all the fact that Yeonjun is a natural flirt. That’s just a part of his personality, he’s inherently charming like that. It’s harmless and it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Everything is all in good fun.

“Would you believe me if I said this is what I’d wear on a midnight convenience store run?”

“Ouch, you wound me.” Yeonjun says, holding a hand over his heart to emphasize his point. “C’mon, you can admit it.”

You open your mouth, a quick comeback about to be thrown his way but Minho chimes in from beside you.

“You should believe her,” he deadpans, stepping closer to you, one of his hands grazing your back. He's even standing straighter, with his chest all puffed out. “She even dresses like that when she takes out the trash.”

You turn to gasp at him before punching him right in the pec. “Hey!” Yeonjun is all but forgotten in a blink of an eye, because you have to defend your honor first.

“What? I’ve seen you do it wearing this exact same outfit.”

“Stop lying. It’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? I distinctly remember you wearing this when you went to take out the trash that night a couple of weeks ago while we were hanging out at your place.”

“Nuh uh. I didn’t take out the trash that night,” you protest, frowning. “I made you throw it out for me on your way-”

Yeonjun interrupts you with a chuckle, glancing between you and Minho as he gives your friend's shoulder an awkward pat. They share a look that you don’t quite understand. “Alright, duly noted. I’m gonna make myself scarce,” he says. “Help yourselves. Booze is in the kitchen!”

After you’ve finally squeezed your way into the kitchen that’s overflowing with people, you narrow your eyes at Minho. “What was that about?”

“What?” He scans the selection of liquor bottles on the kitchen island before asking you, “Rum and Coke?”

Your favorite.

You nod eagerly, momentarily distracted before you have to circle back to your question.

“What was all that back there with Yeonjun, Mr. Grumpy Cat?”

“What was what?” He pulls out two solo cups from a nearby stack, along with some napkins, and meticulously wipes the plastic cups even though they look pretty clean to you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You raise a disbelieving eyebrow. He shrugs.

“I didn’t know you and Yeonjun were that close.” Minho seems casual as he tells you this, not looking at you as he fetches the necessary liquor and soda from the sea of glass and plastic bottles in front of you.

“We’re not. I’m kinda friends with him because Jess is friends with him.”

“Okay,” he acknowledges, though he doesn’t seem entirely pleased with… you don’t even know what. “I don’t like him. He’s loud.”

“That’s not a reason. Aren’t you friends with him too?”

You watch as he mixes your drinks, a sight you’re familiar with whenever you attend house parties together. He’s always your designated bartender.

One for you, one for him.

One part rum, two and a half parts coke.

“It is a reason. And ‘friends’ is a stretch,” he says, handing you your cup before he tends to his own. His has less liquor in it, because you both know you like yours stronger. “We’re acquaintances at best.”

“You’re loud too.”

“My brand of loud is different.”

“Is it?”

He gives you a look. An offended cat, if you’ve ever seen one.

“Well, Yeonjun’s not bad,” you tell him. You take a sip of the drink, then give him a subsequent thumbs-up. “He can be a bit much for some people, but I don’t really mind it.”

When he’s done, you both try to navigate the battlefield that is Yeonjun’s extremely cramped abode. You try to stay as close to him as possible, meaning away from the loud boys that are either trying to get shitfaced as quickly as possible, or trying to suck faces with any girl they could find as quickly as possible.

“Still. You don’t think the flirting was a bit much?”

Minho pulls you to him by your elbow when some guy - probably a little more than tipsy, judging by the unsteadiness of the legs that carry him - tries to bulldoze his way through the crowd behind you.

“He’s always like that. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s harmless.”

“If he asks you out, would you say yes?”

You blink at him in surprise, feeling like the question came out of nowhere. “What kind of question is that?”

“It’s just a question,” he says, then repeats himself. “So, if he asks you out, would you say yes?”

You let him guide you to a spot that’s more breathable, where people aren’t practically on top of each other trying to weave their way through. You think about it for a second, then realize that there isn’t much to think about. “No,” you say decisively.

Because it doesn’t make sense to envision you and Yeonjun together. You practically sit on two opposing ends of the same spectrum. People often say that opposites attract, but this isn’t one of those cases.

And… because you simply feel strange thinking about yourself and someone else. Like it's something you shouldn't do.

Minho gives you a hum in acknowledgment of your answer, which you barely catch over the loudness of the party. You do catch the hint of a smile that tugs at the corner of his lip though, before he cranes his neck to scan the room for any trace of your gang of thieves.

“If I didn’t know any better,” you run the words over in your head before you decide to utter them out loud. Like you told him just now, harmless, right? “I’d say you’re jealous of Yeonjun.”

He turns, stares at you for a moment with unreadable eyes.

“And what if I am?”

There’s something incredulous in the way you look at him. You think he would just wave you off or roll his eyes and move onto a new topic, not expecting him to fire back with a question you can’t really answer.

Or maybe he’s just playing along. You can’t tell.

“Am I that good in bed?” you chuckle, hoping he doesn’t notice the inkling of nervousness in your voice. “Did I do a number on you?”

He raises both eyebrows, pursing his lips as if in thought. Then, he answers, “Something like that.”

There’s a part of you that wants to dig deeper, to get him to say what he really means because there’s something in his eyes and there’s something in the way that his hand has moved to its designated place on the small of your back that makes your stomach roll with anticipation.

Again, you don’t like that he keeps getting harder for you to read.

You try to think of words to say, of questions to ask, though you know this party isn’t the best place to voice them. “What d-”

“There you are!” Hyunjin pops up from behind Minho, practically jumping onto his back like a jumpscare ghost in a horror game, startling the both of you and almost making the grumpy cat spill his drink. Minho groans as he tries to shove his friend off, before sending Hyunjin a glare that makes the man bow his head in apology. He promptly drags you to where your friends are gathered on a big couch near the back of the room - Chan and his girlfriend Jess, Seungmin, Changbin, along with a distinct absence of a few more faces.

“Where are the others?” you ask, plopping down next to Changbin, followed suit by Minho.

“Jisung is stuck finishing a project,” Chan informs you. “And Jeongin is taking his girl to that new drive-in movie place.”

“They’re still in their honeymoon phase?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Ah yes, young love. Good for them.”

You catch up with everyone about your week, about their week; gossip about how much Yeonjun might’ve spent on this party and where his family’s downright insane wealth actually comes from, about Seungmin’s on-and-off situationship (which might be more interesting than all of the above).

Minho remains seated next to you the entire time you’re all drinking and laughing with each other. He keeps subtly touching you one way or another - a hand on your back because no one’s really noticing, a shoulder brushing yours, a thigh touching yours, a knee nudging your own every now and then.

It’s not until you finish your drink that Minho asks if you want another one, then stands up to head to the kitchen when you say Yes, please.

The second he’s out of earshot, Hyunjin jumps into action, motioning for everyone to huddle together, like he’s about to share classified information.

“Minho is seeing someone,” he says immediately.

“What?” Changbin asks. You hope he doesn’t notice the way your body immediately stiffens at the conversation’s sudden turn. You try to look as nonchalant and quiet as possible, as if this is just a talk about the weather, missing the way a pair of eyes flits to you outside of your peripheral vision.

Hyunjin purses his lips, before clarifying, “I went through his phone last week.”

“You went through his phone?” Chan frowns, shaking his head disapprovingly. “That’s not cool, dude.”

“He was in the bathroom and his phone was just sitting there unlocked. Then he got a text and I had to!” Hyunjin holds up his hands defensively. “Anyway, I don’t know if they’re dating or if they’re just fooling around, but there is someone! He’s simping hard.”

“How do you know that?” Seungmin chimes in. “Do you even know who it is?”

“I don’t know who it is. That’s what I need you guys to help me find out. There wasn’t a name name. He just calls her his-”

“What on earth are you guys doing?” Minho’s voice makes everyone disperse, leaning back into their respective seats like they were caught doing something they shouldn’t. He sits down beside you again, handing you your cup back. You give him an appreciative but awkward smile. “What is Hyunjin blabbing about this time?”

“Nothing!” Hyunjin practically squeaks. The poor guy can’t spin a little white lie to save his life. Then he has the audacity to look offended as he gapes, “Also, why did you automatically assume it was me?”

“Because it’s always you at the scene of the crime.”

“It happened one time! No, twice. It was only those two ti-!”

Seungmin cuts in flatly. “He said you’re whipped for a girl you’re seeing.”

Everyone stops to stare at Minho. Even you turn your head to look at him, trying to gauge how he’ll respond to this. It makes you a little guilty, seeing that you’re part of the secret too, and yet he has to shoulder the lies by himself.

Well, technically, there hasn’t been any lying involved up until now. Just a simple withholding of the truth.

His face hardens for a brief moment, and you think he lets it show on purpose - his way of telling Hyunjin that he’s annoyed - because Minho can put on a flawless poker face when he wants to. There’s a couple of seconds where he clenches his jaw before he relaxes, the sharpness of his features softening as he shrugs off the accusation. “I am most certainly not whipped for anyone,” he says. “It’s just a casual thing.”

“If it’s just casual, why were you being so secretive about it, huh?” Hyunjin prods.

“I wasn’t being secretive. I just didn’t think it was anybody’s business,” Minho answers coolly.

“We’re your best friends! I tell you guys everything.”

“You sure do. Even things I’d rather not hear about.”

Jess and Changbin burst into light laughter, and you chuckle along with them but you don’t really find it that funny. You’re just trying to blend into the background, be a fly on the wall and observe how things unfold. Minho has assured you that there’s nothing for you to worry about, that there’s no way they could find out about the secret, but still.

Hyunjin groans exasperatedly. The nosiest drama queen you know. “Seriously, who’s the girl? I’m dying of curiosity here!”

“Drop it.” Minho glares at him.

“Just give me a hint! Is it someone we know?”

“You haven’t eaten tissues in a while, have you?”

“Try me. I’m not scared of you anymore.”

“Hyunjin, I swear to-”

“Okay!” Chan claps his hands together suddenly. “Let’s just all agree that we are all entitled to our privacy and people can share whatever they want with whoever they want when they’re comfortable, yeah?”

Everyone nods in agreement, except for Hyunjin who narrows his eyes petulantly at Minho as if to say This isn’t over. No one wants to poke a disgruntled tiger, let alone about something he seems so disinterested in sharing. Minho has always been a notoriously private person, even with the rest of the group.

Changbin shuffles a new topic into the mix to move things along, which you aren’t very keen on contributing to at the moment. When no one seems to be looking, Minho places a hand on your knee, rubbing it soothingly as if he can sense the unease that you’re feeling. It makes you glance at him, though neither of you says anything. You just look at each other for a moment, then turn back to the group when someone calls your name.

Two hours and three rum and coke’s later, you were coming down from a good high when someone suggested ditching Yeonjun’s party to go to a club.

Normally, you would say no. You could only do one social event at a time, needing to recharge your metaphorical battery before you let yourself be dragged into the next one.

But you decided to make an exception for tonight.

Though, you promptly realized that it was probably a mistake.

You prefer the loudness of Yeonjun’s party than here. It’s loud and crowded, since it’s a Saturday night, and since it’s a club. The air is sticky and stuffy. The lights are perpetually blinding and headache-inducing. You’re not even on the dancefloor; you’re just hovering near the entrance and the bar, and there’s still barely any room to move. People keep trying to shove you out of their way, even with Minho attempting to act as your human shield.

You let your displeasure be known through a deep frown.

Minho catches onto your chagrin almost immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asks, leaning close to your ear to make sure you hear him over the music.

“Too many people,” you try to raise your voice so the booming noises don’t drown you out. “Can we go somewhere over there?”

He turns around, taps on Chan’s shoulder to get his attention before gesturing vaguely to that spot near the back that you just pointed out to him, presumably to let the others know that you’ll be wandering over there.

He takes your hand and leads the way. In the back, it’s still loud but less deafening than before, and much less crowded compared to the areas surrounding the dance floor.

“Better?” he asks.

You lean against the wall though you probably shouldn’t. The ick is apparent, but at this point in the night, you yourself are already feeling pretty gross anyway.

“A little bit,” you say. “Thanks.”

“You wanna go home? We can leave if you want.”

“Without saying goodbye?”

“Did you know that people who leave parties without saying goodbye save two days a year? It’s been researched.”

You rephrase your words so Minho would understand better. “Without Hyunjin’s permission?”

“Hyunjin has been pissing me off plenty all week. I can play my card for you.”

“What card?”

“The ‘I don’t give a fuck’ card.”

You tilt your head, clearly amused. “And how does that usually work out for you?”

“I don’t care how it works out because Hyunjin is not gonna do anything to me.” He shrugs. “Besides, I can always just throw him in the airfryer when he gets too annoying.”

This makes you laugh, recalling the exact moment Minho brought up the legendary instructions on how to cook Hyunjin.

“How violent,” you comment with a snort.

“He deserves it.”

“You know you still have a soft spot for him,” you say.

“I have a soft spot for you,” he replies.

“Now look who’s trying to get laid.”

He grins. “Could you blame me?”

Some drunk girls stumble into your space on their way to the bathroom, bumping into you, pushing you into Minho’s body where he instinctively puts a hand on your back to keep you steady. You glance up at him after the girls have safely arrived at the bathroom, only to find him already staring down at you. His back is turned toward where the lights are coming from and the angle shrouds his face in darkness, but you can still make out the stars twinkling in his eyes.

The sudden lack of space between your bodies makes your breath hitch.

“Are you still drunk?” he asks.

“No. Not really.” You don’t like the way your voice comes out small, vulnerable.

“I…” he starts, hesitating for a moment before he continues. His eyes flicker to your lips, and the breath that was previously caught in your throat further thickens. “Fuck, I really want to kiss you right now.”

For some reason, your heart leaps to your throat. It’s probably because of the remnants of alcohol refusing to leave your system, because how else would you explain the way your pulse quickens just from hearing those words coming from him?

He bites his lip, similar to how Yeonjun did it just a few hours ago, but seeing Minho do it is at least a hundred times more enticing.

You want him to kiss you too. You really do.

“What if the others see?” you protest meekly, but you’re already staring at his mouth, finding yourself gravitating toward him like he’s got you hypnotized.

“We’re all the way back here,” he tells you. “They won’t see anything.”

He leans closer until his lips are brushing yours. With a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your head, he meets your mouth in a soft kiss, which is a stark contrast to the upbeat and booming music blasting all around you. Some guy drunkenly gives you two a sleazy whistle, the sound coming from somewhere on your right, but neither of you pays it any attention.

Your hands come to clutch at the collar of his shirt like a lifeline. He’s never kissed you outside of the comfort of your bedroom before, let alone amidst a sea of people like this. It feels strange to be intimate with him in public, but at the same time, it excites you. There’s still a sense of anonymity because you’re camouflaged by the lights, masked by the darkness, hiding in plain sight.

The kiss gets more heated. He guides you a step back until you’re all pressed up against the wall, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging on it the way he likes that makes him groan against your mouth. He sucks on your bottom lip before shoving his tongue into your mouth, the wet muscle dancing with yours, making your knees buckle. It’s dizzying. It makes your head spin, and you don’t know if it’s because there’s still enough residual alcohol in your system to knock your world off its axis, or if it’s just him.

The hand previously on your hips sneaks underneath your shirt to rub at your bare skin. He gropes your breasts over the bralette you chose to wear tonight, squeezing the soft flesh in his palm, all the while slotting one of his legs between yours to help you grind on him. Your clothed cunt rolls over the denim of his jeans, and even though the friction is coarse and your movements are limited in this crowded space, the pleasure still sets your entire body alight. Minho spreads all over you like wildfire, and Minho consumes you like a hurricane.

You moan into his mouth when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, over the flimsy material of your undergarment. “Min,” you whimper desperately. You don’t know if he can hear you over the obnoxiously loud sounds coming from the speakers littered all over the place, but he groans against your mouth regardless. Almost like the nickname is driving him crazy.

He pulls back just slightly, to let the both of you catch your breath. “Should we go back to yours?” he asks, eyes still focused on your mouth.

You nod eagerly. You know you must be wet as hell right now, and if you have to wait any longer, you will probably explode from frustration. You might just drag him into that disgusting bathroom over there and let him have his way with you, but you will definitely regret it afterward because it’s a bathroom in a nightclub. It’s beyond revolting.

He helps you smooth out your hair, gentle and tender. In turn, you wipe your lipstick smudges on his face. Instead of taking you by the hand like he did earlier, he wraps an arm around your shoulder and navigates the two of you through the crowd, shielding you from anyone who might bump into you. You lean into the touch; it’s just comforting.

As you make your way back to the group - or what’s left of the group at the moment - his hand drops to his side again. There’s an inkling of disappointment that blossoms in you, but it dissipates quickly when Hyunjin spots you and lights up. Him and Seungmin are at the bar, seemingly trying to get the bartender’s attention. Changbin is next to them, but he doesn’t seem to care about anything other than the girl he’s chatting with. You try to scan the crowd for Chan and Jess, and find them a couple minutes later, standing in a corner, pressed up against each other just like you and Minho moments ago.

“Where did you run off to?” Hyunjin asks. Clearly Chan was too preoccupied with his girlfriend to relay the information.

“It’s too loud in here, I was getting a headache,” you say, only half a lie. You know your face must still be flushed from your impromptu makeout session, but you hope your friend can’t see the rosy shade painting your skin under all the flashing lights. “Min and I just went back there to see if it was quieter.”

“Okay.” He seems to believe you. “We’re trying to get drinks! You want anything?”

“I think I’m gonna just go home. You guys stay and have fun though.”

Hyunjin looks at you like he’s so flabbergasted. “It’s not even 3AM yet!”

“Headache,” you say, pointing to your temple with an exaggeratedly pained expression on your face. “I’ll stay out all night with you next time.”

“But-!” The second he opens his mouth to protest, Minho cuts in sharply, his tone leaving no room for anyone to argue despite the gigantic pout on Hyunjin’s face.

“I’m gonna take her home and call it a night too,” he simply says.

Hyunjin groans, but he relents in the end, muttering to you something that sounds like “You owe me one,” when you go to hug him goodbye. Before you and Minho can reach the door, you hear your man child of a friend call after you two in his pterodactyl voice, “Don’t make Minho’s girl jealous!”

463 notes · View notes

pulisicsgirl · 10 months

Text

breathe, you're okay - mason mount

summary: when the mounting pressure of a Women's UCL run is falling on Y/N's shoulders, she isn't handling it by herself as well as she would like everyone to believe she is

pairing: Mason Mount x footballer!reader

word count: 2.9k

warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, no established relationship, !!descriptions of a panic attack!!, discussions about mental heath, supportive Mase

requested: no

notes: surprise!! I'm sorry I haven't posted in months-- my life kind of went up in flames over the summer and I haven't had the time to write that I was hoping to. I have a few WIPs in my drafts, and I am still working on all of your requests! Please let me know what you think of this!

The hot afternoon sun beat down on you, and you felt the drops of sweat sliding down the side of your head and tickling the hairs on the back of your neck. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you ran up and down the field, weaving between cones, carrying the ball at your feet, running through a series of consecutive drills that were designed to refine your skills and test your endurance.

You did your best to recall the instructions that your coach had carefully laid out before the team began the drill, but with the heat and the fatigue that was seeping all the way into your bones, it seemed impossible to remember. You wound up relying on the teammate in front of you to recall what you needed to do next.

You let out a heavy sigh of relief when you heard the sound of the whistle—two short chirps, signaling for you to halt your movements. You draped your arms over your head, drawing in deep, heaving breaths as you attempted to get your heart rate under control.

You joined the rest of your teammates as they gathered around the coach, preparing for his parting words before everyone was dismissed.

“Good session today, ladies,” he clapped his hands in front of him, looking around the circle. “I’m seeing a lot of good things. A lot of improvement in our touches and finishing. You all are looking really good.”

A couple of the girls clapped at his words, the rest too exhausted to do anything but listen.

“We have the day off tomorrow, so use it well. Rest, recover, and come back Monday ready to go. We’ve got some heavy prep next week before the second leg on Friday,” he continued, and a couple others whooped, getting excited for the upcoming big game.

“They’re gonna be a really tough opponent, I’ll be honest. We know that their back line is really strong, tough to break through.” Your coach’s eyes fell on you, and you knew what was coming next before he even began to speak, your stomach sinking slightly. “But that’s what we have Miss Y/N, for, right?”

Several of the girls cheered for you. The girls near you slapped you on the back, trying to get you hyped up. And the weight that had settled in the pit of your stomach grew heavier.

The Manchester United women were on an impressive UEFA Women’s Champions League run, overcoming seemingly insurmountable odds to make it to the semifinal. And according to the media (and now your own teammates and coaches), it was all thanks to you.

In the group stage, a decisive game in which your team had gone down 2-0 in the first half had seemed hopeless until you had scored two goals in the second, assisting on the third to put your team through to the knockout games. Another three goal contributions in the quarter-final matches had put you in the spotlight of all of the team’s media coverage, thrusting a wave of attention upon you that you had never asked for.

You had gone down 1-0 in the first leg of the semi-final, and now you were playing from behind. And it seemed that everyone expected you to be the one to pull them out of it.

So now, you were left feeling the pressure as the second leg was fast approaching.

“Alright, ladies. Have a good rest of the day and a great day off tomorrow.” He clapped his hands, dismissing you all. The circle of girls dispersed, chatting among themselves.

“Am I still leaving the cones out for you?” the coach raising his eyebrows at you. You only nodded in return. “Okay, don’t work yourself to death.”

You laughed humorlessly as you fiddled with the ball at your feet, not meeting his eyes.

“Hey,” he said, resting a hand on your shoulder to try to draw your attention to him. “Get some rest tomorrow, okay? We all see how hard you’re working. Give yourself a break.”

Another nod is all that you can muster, and you don’t miss the short sigh that he lets out as he drops his hand from your shoulder and walks to join the rest of the group moving indoors.

You repositioned a few of the cones to set up your own drill and got right into it.

Across the field, on another training pitch near yours, Mason watched as you carried the ball with you up and down the field, weaving between cones, practicing a few skills that he had seen you implement in games, and taking a shot on the goal at each pass.

He was supposed to be doing a bit of extra work with a few of the boys. The men’s team had finished their training session about an hour before, but a few of them still felt like they wanted to get a bit more done before calling it a day. So here they were, running a few small three-a-side games to utilize the last of their energy that day.

But he couldn’t help but notice how you never stopped.

During the team training, you were always one of the hardest-working ones out there. When he had returned to the pitch from lunch, you were taking shots on the goal with the rest of your team nowhere in sight. He wasn’t even sure he had seen you eating lunch inside when he thought about it.

And now here you were, sprinting across the length of the field, over and over, after the rest of your team had hit the showers.

He felt a twinge of worry for you but brushed it off as one of his teammates called his name to pull his attention back to the game they were playing.

Your head was spinning as you pushed yourself to keep moving. Your entire body was drenched in sweat. Every muscle ached from overexertion as you gritted your teeth, forcing them to keep moving. The sun was dizzyingly bright as the evening set in. You could feel the heat practically radiating off of your skin. Your lungs were burning with your heaving breaths and your mouth quickly grew dry.

“That’s what we have Miss Y/N for, right?” Your coach’s words echoed through your head as you carried the ball down the field.

“Y/L/N carries the Man U Women through to the semifinal!” You recalled the title of the article as you weaved between the cones.

“I really believe Y/N Y/L/N could be the one to lead Manchester United to their first Women’s Champion’s League trophy!” You heard the words of the pundit clear as day as you planted your foot, striking the ball cleanly. It soared through the air, curving toward the goal, and struck the crossbar. The ball flew away from the goal, bouncing pathetically on the ground in the penalty area.

You took a pause, the words and expectations crashing around your mind leaving an unsettling feeling in your chest. As you stood there, you couldn’t seem to get your panting breaths to grow steadier.

Your shirt suddenly felt too tight on your neck. You grasped the fabric, pulling it away from your body in an attempt to allow yourself to breathe easier, but nothing seemed to be helping.

Your head was spinning. You felt your stomach sink, a feeling like when you plummeted down the tall hill of a rollercoaster, a sick feeling settling in your abdomen. Your skin began to crawl, and you just couldn’t stop hyperventilating.

You began to panic. Eyes searching frantically for relief. You weren’t sure what you were looking for—something, anything.

You suddenly felt like you were too out in the open, needing to seclude yourself away from the sight of prying eyes. You set into a sprint, off of the field and around the corner of the nearest part of the building to you, trying to find some shade from the hot sun and hide yourself from anyone who might see your pathetic state.

But it was too late. Mason had seen the whole thing.

They had just paused their game for a short water break. He had seen you take the shot, instead hitting the crossbar. It only took him a few seconds once you paused to realize that something wasn’t right.

He watched the way your chest rose and fell rapidly in quick, short breaths. When you began attempting to pull your shirt away from your body, he instantly knew what was taking place. He’d recognize that feeling anywhere.

You were having a panic attack, whether you realized it or not.

As soon as he saw you take off for the side of the building, he was running after you without so much as a word of explanation to his teammates.

Once in the shade of the wall you hid behind, you began pacing, unable to keep still. Every inch of your body felt jittery, and you felt unsteady on your legs. You couldn’t manage more than rapid, shallow breaths. Your throat felt tight, your breaths sounding more like wheezes, and it was starting to make your head spin. Your hands flew to your head, scratching at your scalp in an attempt to somehow rid yourself of the feeling.

You were startled by Mason swiftly rounding the corner, concern written all over his face as he stopped in front of you.

“Hey, hey, hey, you’re okay,” he spoke calmly and evenly. He quickly reached up, taking your wrists in his hands so he could gently but firmly pull your hands out of your hair to keep you from hurting yourself.

“I can’t, Mason. I can’t,” you panted, shaking your head ‘no’ frantically and still trying to weakly pull your hand from his grip.

“You’re okay, Y/N. Try to slow down your breathing,” Mason’s calm voice directly contrasted your frantic behavior, speaking in short sentences so as to not overwhelm you more. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

A short sob fell from your lips, and you felt the tears spilling over and down your cheeks.

“We’re gonna lose,” you sobbed, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion. “The semifinal, we’re gonna lose it, and it’s gonna be all my fault.”

In that moment, everything clicked into place for Mason-- the UWCL run, your success in the games leading up to the semi-final leg, the pressure from the fans and the team, the countless extra hours you had been putting in.

A loud noise in the distance, coming from the direction of the parking lot, startled you, snatching your attention and you whipped your head to the side, eyes searching frantically for the source. He released your wrists from his hand, testing the waters as he turned your head back to look at him with a hand on your cheek.

He cradled your face with a hand on either side, keeping your focus on him. His thumbs wiped the tears away that had slipped down your cheeks.

“Hey, look at me. You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you,” he repeated the affirmations he had already been telling you.

As he stroked his thumbs softly over the skin of your cheek, he felt that your breathing was already growing a bit slower. You had reached up, holding onto his wrists with both of your hands to steady yourself, feeling too unsteady on your feet. His hands were gentle and soft on your skin.

Mason watched your expression, taking long deep breaths for you to emulate. Your eyes were still wide, darting frantically around his face, but you were trying your best to follow his breathing. He continued whispering short reassurances.

“You’re safe.”

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“I’ve got you.”

You were beginning to calm down, but your eyes darted to something behind Mason, pulled away from the calm atmosphere he had tried to create for you.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” he spoke gently, pressing his forehead to yours so you would only focus on him. You were shocked at how little the intrusion on your personal space bothered you. In fact, to your surprise, the closeness seemed to settle you a little more.

You continued focusing on your breathing, gripping tightly to his wrists as if you thought he’d disappear if you let go. Your eyes were clamped closed, listening to Mason’s soft and slow breathing. You felt your pounding heart being to slow its pace.

The panic you had been feeling subsided, leaving behind a wave of extreme fatigue. You felt completely and utterly drained.

Mason must have noticed the way that your body slumped over, and he guided you to sit down on the grass, leaning back against the brick wall of the building. He sat down next to you, leaving space so he didn’t make you more nervous. But in the haze you felt in your mind, you felt a need to still be close to him, leaning over so you could place your head on his shoulder. A short pang of guilt washed over you as you noticed the crescent-shaped indents you had left on his wrists, your nails digging into the skin as you had held onto him.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, your eyes slipping closed as you continued focusing on breathing slowly. A gentle breeze blew through, cooling your clammy skin and brushing through the blades of grass.

“I used to get them sometimes, too, you know?” Mason broke the silence, speaking softly.

You responded with a quiet, “hmm?” unsure of what he meant.

“Panic attacks,” he explained. “At the end of last season, before I left Chelsea. There was a lot of pressure. Any time I played, everyone had something to say about it. Even when I didn’t play, some would find a reason to be upset. It all just got to be too much.”

A deep sadness filled you while you listened to his words. “How did you get through it?”

“Ben found me having one in my car after training one day.” He was quiet for a moment. “I tried to power through it—like you. Skipping lunch and staying late to train a bit extra on the field or put in an extra session in the gym. But once Ben realized what was going on, he made sure that I was taking care of myself properly and wasn’t dealing with it on my own anymore.”

You sat up so you could look at Mason’s face, and you saw a hint of sadness there. “So I’ll tell you what he told me. There are 10 other people with you on that field at all times. If you fall down, there are 10 pairs of hands ready to help you back to your feet. If you succeed, there are 10 others to celebrate with you. But it’s not all on you.”

Your eyes were misty, welling up with tears at his words. He slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a secure hug as the tears began to stream down your cheeks.

“No matter the outcome of the game next week, you’re an incredible player, Y/N.” He placed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “You’ve already done so much so early in your career. The media and the fans will say what they want—don’t let them get to you. And your coaches may get carried away with their expectations for you, but it’s just because they’re so excited to see you succeed. Just be the player you know how to be, and your achievements will speak for themselves.”

“Thank you, Mason,” you whispered after pondering his words for a moment. No words could express the gratitude you felt for the relief he had brought you just by letting you know that he was there and he understood. But as he squeezed your shoulders lightly in response, you hoped he knew just how thankful you were.

Eventually, Mason helped you to your feet, guiding you back toward the fields. You were still feeling a bit weak and unsteady, so he made sure you remained upright with a gentle hold on your arm as you walked. Deciding it was time for you to call it a day, he insisted on collecting the cones that you had been training with, not allowing you to help him by picking up even one of them.

It took some convincing but you told him you would be fine to drive yourself home—his only condition was that you texted to let him know you made it there safely.

“Alright, then. Rest on your day off tomorrow. Give yourself a break, okay?” he spoke as he put the last of the cones away. “I’ll check in with you on Monday, if that’s okay.” He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. The two of you had been friendly before today, but you wouldn’t have considered yourselves close friends. He just wanted to be sure that you knew you had people in your corner.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot,” you nodded, smiling at him. With a final hug, he sent you on your way as he turned to rejoin his (undoubtedly confused) teammates where he had left them.

“Remember: rest!” he shouted back at you as you parted ways, and you couldn’t stop the blushing smile that worked its way onto your face.

tag list: @landoslover @chelseagirl98 @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @bracedes @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount fic #mason mount fluff #mason mount angst #chelsea fc #footballer fic

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two-white-butterflies · 1 year

Text

let the light in - am. targaryen

Description: Aemond is your father's business partner. Despite the age-gap, you find yourself falling for him. (modern au) Rating: 18+ age-gap, light comedy at the end and vanilla smut Series: part two of my mafia one-shots.

A thick smoke always follow his body, the smell of strong male-perfume radiating through the atmosphere, and his fucking smile. Those were the three things that reminded you of Mr. Aemond. He was your father's closest friend - his right hand man, who would one day inherit the entire thing.

"There's only one kind of business, the bottom line." your father chuckles, filling his cup with whiskey.

He was staring at you - with that hungry grin. His legs were spread open, almost welcoming you to sit. "Our competitors are weak, sir. They don't stand a chance against us." Aemond confirms, blowing a puff of thick smoke in the atmosphere.

He was the man of your dreams. He always smelled like black coffee, cigarettes and perfume. He's got you weak on your knees. "Still, I want them finished." he commanded, eyes suddenly turning cold.

Your father was an insecure man - paranoid of the people that wanted his power. He only trusted you and Aemond.

"That can be arranged," Aemond mumbles, puffing another cloud of smoke in your father's gallery.

You follow after him that night, stopping in front of his Mercedes before he could get inside. "You aren't gonna kill them, right?" you inquire, resting your hand on the hood of his car. He gives you a small glance - not enough to scare you, but enough to prove that he didn't care. "There's a lot of things that you'd do for my dad, but one of them shouldn't be killing, sir." you grit your teeth, uncomfortable of the idea that he'd be murdering someone.

That would ruin the image, wouldn't it?

"Listen, princess - your dad's business isn't your business." he replied curtly, gently moving you out of the way so that he could open his car. He was a cold and uncaring man - but you saw something inside of him that was worth fighting for.

"Come on," you groan, watching as he went inside his car. You immediately bolt to the other side, circling his hood and settling beside the front passenger seat. You open the door before he could lock it, a piece of your mind wanted to believe that he wanted you beside him.

"What are you doing?" he questions, putting on his seatbelt with a small smirk.

"I'm going with you." you demanded.

"Whatever you say, princess." he hums, starting his car.

Best believe that he never made it out of the gated community. He was parked right outside of your house, lips on your own. "If only daddy could see you now," he teases, rubbing his hands through your unclothed body. He was almost sure that no one could see the both of you - because of the thick hedges that hid his car from view.

He breaks the kiss - to stare at your face. His eye flickered a familiar color. It was the look of a boy who was cunt-struck. The boys at your old school used to look at you in the same way.

"You're making me do something that can only be kept as a secret." he whispers, cupping your cheeks and staring at those beautiful eyes. "I wanna be your secret," you coo and his face softens. A fucking menace for a wife, that is what you'd be.

The sound of your voice has him hard on his cock.

"You wanna be my little girl?" he questions, pulling your face closer but avoiding the steering-wheel in front of him. "I wanna be that," you whisper, and his hands reach past you and down to the buttons of your chair - reclining it, until you were lying down.

You stare at him again - waiting and anticipating his next move. He places the car on park, blasting the ac until it was a perfect temperature from him. He gets rid of his top, hovering over you.

"Turn the car off, I want it hot." you demand, and he rolls down the windows to the car. "We'll suffocate, princess." he hums - staring at you with a predatory stare. He reminded you of one of the lions that you'd see in the zoo - scary but pretty.

He leans back down, bridging your lips together - but now, you were grinding unto him. Chasing your pleasure with the small bulge in his pants, your hands walk down to unzip his pants, shocked at the length of him. "That's big," you say out loud and a chuckle emerges from his mouth.

"You want this inside of you? Inside your little cunny?" he teases, pumping his cock a few times - seeing a bit of precum dribble down into his leather seats. "Yeah, do it." you demanded, earning another chuckle from the man. You were used to getting what you wanted - it comes with the title of being the daughter of a mob.

"You have to earn it, baby." he announces, running his hands through your beautiful breasts. He kneels on top of the chair, legs slightly parted to make way for your hips. "You ever sucked a man before?" he questions and you shake your head.

"I'll teach you," he says, signaling for your face to move closer to his cock. "Give me a kiss," he commands - and you obey him, pressing butterfly kisses on his growing erection. You were a lewd sight - increasing his lust by twenty.

Her hands danced on his thighs and his breathing became more erratic. He gasped slowly as he realizes that she was sucking him - with no need of instruction. "Yes, right there." he moans, arching his hips slightly to have a better angle. You lapped his dick - sucking on it eagerly so he could reward you.

A chill ran down his spine at the feel of your tongue swirling around his engorged lust. "Good," he kept moaning, looking down at you and burying his hand on your hair. You were a fucking delight.

"So good." he exhaled, feeling his peak come closer.

"Stop." he commanded, and you released his penis - creating a thick strand of saliva that connected the both of you. "You want me to cum inside of you?" he teased and you nod. The anticipation was overbearing. He reaches for the condom on his back-pocket - earning a raise of an eyebrow from you.

"Come," he motions while wrapping his dick with the rubber. "Open your legs," he ordered - you open it for a bit, but he grows impatient - opening it wider. He wastes no time in inserting his penis inside your gaping hole. "I'll be gentle," he promises - you stare at him again.

"I like rough sex," you confess - a small chuckle exits his mouth.

"Dirty lying girl, this isn't your first time?" he stated and you nodded with a giggle. "I'm sorry - I didn't wanna get into trouble." you reasoned - he began thrusting inside of you, reaching places that you didn't think existed.

"You're in trouble now, princess." he hums.

He groans at your tightness, feeling your walls push against his length. "So big," you huff, feeling him pump into your body. "I'm flattered," he smirks, burying his face on your shoulder.

He was about to say something dirty but a knock on the car window broke him away from his bliss. Luckily, the windows were slightly tinted, not fully opened- and the person outside wasn't able to make out your face. "Who is it?" you complain, trying to peek through his body - but he pushes you down. "It's your dad," he panicked, feeling embarrassment course through his body.

"Fuck," you curse, hearing your father laugh on the other side.

"Aemond, I told you to kill someone - not fuck one of my daughter's maids." the man takes a deep breath of his tobacco, staring at the other direction. "I'm sorry, princess." Aemond mumbles, zipping his trousers - he presses a soft kiss on your lips. "Pick me up tomorrow, quarter to five." you remind, and he leans deeper into the kiss - before finding his way on the driver's seat and hurrying to chase after your dad.

You sigh.

One day.

@beaconofthehightower @casualheartadorable

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inthe-dark-tonight · 7 months

Text

Falling Into My Sins

chapter four: someone who's stuck inside your mind

dbf!joel x fem!reader series - loosely inspired by the song skin by soccer mommy

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 5 chapter 5

summary: you take up tommy’s offer to take you on a date, the night ends with a confrontation from joel and an unexpected turn of events.

word count: 2.6k

series rating: E (18+ mdni)

warnings: no outbreak AU, age gap (reader is in their 20s, Joel is in his 40s) no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, tommy and reader flirt, slight angst/confrontation, some kissing, alcohol consumption, joel being grumpy, if i’m missing anything bb please let me know <3

notes: i’ve been procrastinating posting this chapter but here it is!! excited for this one, it’s gonna get messier after this hehe thank you @javiscigarette for beta reading this chapter for me MWAH and thank you to the loml @shatteredbaby for helping me time and time again with proof reading and ideas for this story ilysm ♡

The rest of your night was pretty uneventful, after Joel and Tommy left you only had about an hour left of your shift. When you got home it took you a while to fall asleep, the memory of how he grabbed you and crashed his lips into yours unexpectedly replaying in your mind over and over. You wish you could say he hasn't been occupying your mind. You need to forget about him, and tonight you’re going to try.

It’s about half an hour before Tommy picks you up, you’re finishing up getting ready when you hear a knock on your bedroom door.

“Come in.” You turn to face the door.

Your dad opens the door and peeks his head in. “Sorry, I know you’re getting ready. Just wanted to ask if you’ll be free next Sunday.”

“Uh, yeah I don't think I work.”

“Okay good.” He nods his head and starts to leave.

“Why?”

“Just might be making some plans, wanted to make sure you’re around.” You nod at his response and then he closes the door.

You hear your phone go off and quickly grab it to look at the notification.

I'm outside whenever you’re ready. No rush.

You smile at the text and take one last look at yourself in the mirror before heading down stairs. You call out to say bye to your dad and then close the door behind you, making your way down the front steps to Tommy’s car. You feel slightly giddy as you see him get out to open the passenger door for you.

“Hey” he has a small content smile on his face as he opens your door.

“Hi” you look up at him shyly, stepping into the car.

He closes your door and you watch him walk around the front of the car to the driver's side. He gets into the car and buckles his seatbelt before looking over at you. A smile forms on your face as he looks back at the road and pulls away.

“So, the bar we’re going to is called the Blind Donkey.” Tommy’s eyes are focused on the road still.

You let out a small chuckle before replying. “Never been before.”

“It’s pretty mellow, we’ll have a good time though.”

You nod in agreement and look out your window as he drives towards downtown. Tommy reaches out to turn up the radio, and the rest of the ride is fairly quiet until he’s about to park. As he pulls in the parking lot, you think you see a truck you recognize.

“Oh by the way,” he pulls into a spot and puts the car into park. “I hope you don’t mind, I invited my brother.”

You feel your heart sink down into your stomach. You’ve got to be kidding.

Tommy looks over at you while he unbuckles his seat belt and you force a smile. “No, of course not!”

He matches your smile before reaching for his door handle, and you do the same grabbing your purse as you jump out of the car.

You walk around to the back of the car and meet him, he glances towards you before walking towards the door and you follow behind. As you get closer your heart starts racing and the events of last night play through your head. Why did Joel kiss you if he was out on a date with some other girl before showing up at the diner? Is she here with him tonight? The last thing you really want is to see him.

Tommy holds open the door to the bar for you and you thank him as you walk inside. The air inside is hazy with smoke and it smells faintly like cigarettes and stale beer, you don’t mind it though. Your eyes wander the small space filled with a pool table, an old jukebox, a few small booths and a bar. Your eyes fall on Joel sitting at the bar with his back towards the door, beer in one hand as his other taps on the bar top to the rhythm of the music.

Even from the back he’s good looking. His graying hair lays perfectly in soft waves, and his black shirt stretches across his back and shoulders just right. You snap yourself out of it as you get closer.

“Joel!” Tommy shouts out as the two of you approach, only a few feet from where he’s sitting now.

He slowly turns around, lips tilted upward until his eyes meet with yours. His smile is immediately wiped from his face, eyes growing dark as they take in your presence. His jaw ticks as he turns back around towards the bar. Tommy pulls out a chair for you then takes a seat between you and Joel. He places his hand on Joel’s shoulder and squeezes lightly before taking a seat.

“What’s she doing here?” Joel grumbles quietly to Tommy, still loud enough that you hear the comment.

You glance over at him to find that he’s looking past Tommy, eyes burning into you. You roll your eyes as they meet with his and quickly look the other direction.

“I invited her” you can hear in Tommy’s voice that he’s smiling.

“Hm.” Joel lets out a grunt at his words.

You hear a slapping sound as Tommy lightly smacks Joel’s arm with the back of his hand. “Don’t be an ass, Joel.”

You hold back a laugh as you turn back towards the two men. Joel’s looking forward, brows furrowed and a small pout on his face. You try not to focus on how pretty he looks right now..

“What are you having Tommy?” You rest both elbows on the counter and lock eyes with him.

“Just a beer, what do ya want, hon?” he asks.

“Same thing.”

A warm smile spreads across Tommy’s face, you look past him to find Joel’s eyes locked on you again as Tommy tells the bartender your order. The bartender looks over at Joel but his eyes stay on you.

“I’ll have a whiskey.” he grumbles.

“So, Joel,” Tommy clears his throat. “No date tonight?” He says with a smug smile on his face.

“No.” He shifts in his seat.

You glance at him from the corner of your eye, and you can help but wonder why he’s alone tonight.

The bartender comes back after what feels like forever, Tommy nods at him and leaves some cash on the counter. You take a sip of your beer and look around. Your eyes fall on a pool table in the center of the room and an idea pops into your head. You eagerly look over to Tommy.

“You know how to play pool?” you give him a sweet but devious smile.

He raises a brow at you. “Yeah, you?”

“No, wanna show me?”

A smile spreads across his face. “C’mon” he nods towards the pool table.

He gets up from the bar and you follow, glancing at Joel one last time before walking with Tommy to the pool table. He grabs two cue sticks from where they’re hanging on the wall, passing one to you. He sets his down for a moment to set up the billiard balls as you watch. When he's finished he looks up at you and walks towards you with an eager look on his face.

“Let me show you how to use that.” he clears his throat before stepping behind you.

You hold onto the cue stick as he rests a hand on your back, gently guiding you to lean over the table.

“It’s all about getting the right angle.” His voice comes out low, you can feel him hovering close behind you.

You glance back to look at Tommy but your eyes meet with Joel’s, still sitting at the bar watching you like a hawk. You slightly roll your eyes and look back towards the pool table.

Tommy grabs your right hand that’s clutching the cue stick. “Bring this hand back.” He guides you gently and then leans over to your other side touching your left hand. “And use this hand to help guide.”

His body is pressed lightly against yours, when he speaks his voice comes out soft and smooth. He’s so close you can feel his chest move against you as he breathes.

“Just like that.” He adjusts your hand slightly.

“Okay” you breathe out.

“And then slowly just,” His right hand rests on your lower back as he rubs his thumb back and forth slowly. “Follow through.”

You take a deep breath and focus your aim on the cue ball before going for it. One of the solid colored pool balls flies into one of the pockets and you gasp, turning around to face Tommy.

“I did it!” There’s a huge smile plastered on his face as he laughs at your reaction.

You smile back at him and turn around to continue the game.

The game goes on for about 30 minutes, you end up winning and it keeps your mind off of Joel for a bit.

“You definitely cheated.” Tommy raises a brow at you, one hand resting on his hip while the other holds the cue stick.

You chuckle at his accusation. “Nope.”

He walks towards you, grabbing your cue stick from your hand. “How about another round?” He gestures towards the bar.

“Yeah,” you trail off, turning to look towards the bar as Tommy puts the cue sticks back on the wall.

Then you see him. Joel’s standing at the bar next to a woman with golden skin and dark wavy hair. He’s leaning in closely as they talk, giving her the same charming look he gave you the night you met. You feel your cheeks get hot as you watch him with the woman and you feel a lump starting to grow in the back of your throat.

“Um,” your eyes are still glued to Joel as you speak to Tommy. “I need to step outside for a moment.” You snap your head to look at Tommy, giving him a tight lipped smile.

“Sure, I’ll grab our drinks.” He looks back at you with a hint of confusion in his eyes, then you turn to walk towards the door.

The room feels like it’s spinning and the air is getting thicker as you try to get to the door as quickly as you can. You take in a large breath as you push open the door, the cool night air surrounding you. It feels good, calming you down as you finally start to settle and lean your back against the wall of the building. Your breathing starts to steady as you watch headlights pass by, listening to the muffling sound of chatter as crowds walk past you on the downtown streets.

You let out a long sigh as you lean your head back and close your eyes. Then you hear the door to the bar open and shut, heavy footsteps getting closer to you before the stop. You open your eyes and look towards the door to find Joel standing a few feet from where you are.

You groan and turn towards him, giving him an expectant look. You’re not sure why he followed you out here and what he could possibly want.

“What do you think you were doin’ in there?” The crease between his brow deepens.

“What are you talking about?” You throw the words he used last night back at him. “I’m just enjoying my date, Joel.”

His jaw ticks in annoyance as he shoves his hands in his pockets, looking out at the street. He doesn’t look at you as he says his next words.

“With my brother?” An amused expression grows on his face.

You attempt to swallow back the lump in your throat, then his eyes meet with yours.

“Trying to make me jealous?” His eyes grow dark, burning into you as they rake over your form.

“No.” Why does he have to look at you that way?

“Hm.” His eyes meet yours again and you can tell he doesn’t believe a word you’re saying. Your stomach turns as he watches you closely.

“That could’ve been you in there.” You blurt out.

His brow raises in curiosity at your comment. “Still could be.” A smirk starts to grow on his lips as he quickly runs a hand through his hair.

“You missed your chance.” You roll your eyes and try to walk past him.

He gently grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks. “Did I?” He looks at you with dark eyes.

You scoff at his words, looking into his eyes before tugging your arm out of his grasp and walking back into the bar. The audacity, you think to yourself as you walk back over to Tommy.

“Hey, everything okay?” Tommy gives you a concerned look as you walk towards where he's standing at the bar, a drink waiting for you.

“Yeah,” you grab the drink and shoot it back, slamming the glass back down on the counter.

You frantically look back at the door and see Joel walking in. You peel your eyes away from him and turn back to look at Tommy, an idea coming to mind as you lay your eyes on him. You grab him by his shirt before you can second guess it, and crash your lips into his.

He makes a surprised noise at first, then his lips start to move in sync with yours and he gently lays a hand on your hip. When he breaks the kiss he’s breathing heavily, face still only a few inches from yours. You quickly look down, cheeks growing hot from embarrassment at the move you just made.

“Um,” you break the silence. “Can we go?”

Tommy just nods looking a bit dumbstruck. You turn to walk towards the door and your eyes meet Joel’s, there’s nothing but anger behind them.

Tommy trails behind you as you pass Joel with your eyes glued to the ground. You can feel his gaze burning straight through you. If only you could read his mind.

You rush to Tommy’s truck the second you’re outside of the bar, he unlocks it and you tug the door open and jump in as fast as you can. Fuck. What were you thinking?

Tommy gets into the car, still not saying a word as he starts the engine. He lets out a deep sigh and glances at you before backing out and leaving the parking lot towards your homes.

You shouldn’t have kissed him. You knew it was wrong and you knew deep down it was just to try and make Joel jealous. You’re sure he didn’t even care, he made it clear that what happened didn’t mean anything. Like he said, it was just a fuck. You feel like an idiot for still feeling this way about Joel even after everything. You should probably say something to Tommy, at least apologize.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper as you give him a shy look, afraid to meet his eyes.

“For?” His eyes stay on the road as he answers you.

You’re almost afraid to let the words leave your mouth. “Kissing you.”

He lets out a small chuckle as the truck comes to a stop at the red light, then he looks over at you. “Don’t be.” He smiles at you.

You smile back at him before looking out the windshield as the stop light turns green. You start to calm down now that you know he’s not mad, but you’re mad at yourself. You know that you kissed him for the wrong reasons, you just hope he never has to find that out.

thank you so so much for reading & any feedback is appreciated <3

tag list and some moots: @ilovepedro @isitmeulookin4 @joelsversion @nostalxgic @gracieheartspedro @jenispunk @beskarandblasters @pedropascalfan221 @mellymbee @kaybee181520 @joeldjarin @akah565 @chefchy4 @untamedheart81 @eliza-8 @fellinfromthetop @znerac

#dbf!joel #joel miller #dbf!joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #fic: falling into my sins #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x fem!reader

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mono-moonchilds · 9 months

Note

What if hobi was your professor who wants to sleep with ya?

⤑ series: what if...??

⤑ pairing: professor!hoseok x fem!reader

⤑ genre: smut!!

⤑ rating: explicit (18+)

⤑ word count: 1.9k i got carried away

⤑ warnings: oral sex fem receiving, dry humping, touching, he keeps touching her thigh, idk how to word it but he's in a position of power, big!dick hoseok of course, facial, cum eating, a lil overstimulation, he calls her slut like once, I'm not sure whether or not to tag this dub!con, he is her professor / in a position of power so it blurs the lines but also they are both attracted to one another, in the spirit of not potentially leaving out a tag that could be relevant ill also just tag it dubcon

⤑ A/N: my first request in a long time 😅 I hope you like it. this has not been proof read fr. excuse any mistakes

⤑ summary: what if... your professor wanted to sleep with you

a soft sigh fell from your lips as professor jung slid the paper over to you. “still not getting it, huh?” he questioned. shaking your head, you grabbed the sheet stuffing it back into your binder. it was 4:15 and you’d already wasted so much of his time.

“no, but I’ll just work on it some more once I get back to my dorm.” you said pushing on a smile. “thank you so much for your time, professor jung.”

“y/n,” he reached out stopping you in your tracks. “how are you gonna work on something you don't even understand yet?” your eyes fell back onto the glossy wooden desk as you shrugged. “exactly. so what’s the rush?”

you attempted to shrug again but professor jung stopped you with a low tsk. “words. use your words.” the older man softly demanded.

“I don’t wanna waste your time. It’s already been an hour. I’d hate to take up more.”

“you're such a sweet girl,” professor jung cooed a pretty smile filling his face as he looked at you. “you could never waste my time. you’re one of my favorite students.”

“oh..uhm,” proper words eluded you. your face feeling hot as you took in both of the sudden compliments. you were one of his favorites? until today you had never even said two words except for the occasional good afternoon when you got to class. “really? didn’t think you ever noticed me. I hardly ever talk.”

“you don’t need words to stand out. trust me.”

it was embarrassing how big the smile was that’d formed on your face. letting out a low chuckle, professor jung motioned you over. “come over to the whiteboard with me.” getting up from your seat you followed him. as he reached over handing you a marker you got another waft of his signature cologne. the girls always talked about it. how good he smelled. how well he dressed. They were right. Of course, you’d noticed before but right now you couldn’t help but really notice.

“y/n,”

“huh?” Your eyes quickly flickered back up.

a hint of a smirk covered his face. “I said write the equation out for me.”

“of course, sir. I’m sorry.”

“such a polite girl too. It’s almost like your perfect.” laughing at your obviously flustered face, professor jung easily moved on and began to read the problem out for you. “so what’s the first step?” he asked once you were finished.

you stared at the board in complete silence. it was just one problem, a problem he’d worked out three different times since you came to his office but you were still so lost. “you’re problem is you thinking too hard about it.” walking up behind you professor jung walked up behind you guiding your hand to the board. his body so close you barely wanted to breathe. “It’s simple,” his warm breath fanned across your neck. “tell me what you instinctively think to do when you first see this.”

“bring this down,” you pointed with your other hand.

“exactly. now what?”

pulling your bottom lip between your teeth you thought long and hard. hesitantly you pointed to the middle of the equation. “I think we can start solving for this.” much to your surprise professor jung hummed in agreement.

“I told you it was simple. you just gotta take these things slowly.” Much to your dismay professor jung stepped back taking the warmth of his body with him. you wanted to whine but of course, you didn’t. “now finish the rest of it for me.”

it took you far more time than it’d taken him. when you looked back at the clock thirty minutes had passed. “I’m done,” You squeaked nervously.

professor jung was quiet at first. his hawk-like eyes studying the board carefully as he went back through each in every step in his head. when he finally looked back over to you his face was blank at first. with a huff, your shoulders fell in disappointment.

“good job.”

what?

“I got it right?” your head popped up in surprise.

he nodded. “like I told you. you just gotta take your time. It may seem intimidating but you gotta go slow.” lifting his hand professor jung gave you a high five. “I think you're going to ace this next test y/n.”

you shook your head with a laugh. “it was only one question.”

“one question that somebody else is still probably struggling with. be proud of yourself.”

you were. honestly. professor jung was right even though it was only one problem it was still something.

“do you want to continue working on the rest of them?”

“oh—no. you don’t have to. if I get stuck I’ll just rewatch the lecture videos. I would hate to take up more of your time.”

“y/n,” professor jung stopped you once again, his fingers lingering on your skin. “I already told you it’s no bother. I want you to do well.”

his voice was like a trap immediately drawing you in so within seconds you were nodding. “words.” He reminded.

“okay—I mean yes. thank you so much, professor jung.”

“hoseok,”

“what?”

“my name. my name is hoseok.”

hoseok. you liked it. It was pretty just like him.

“move your seat over here.” professor jung, no—hoseok directed. “so it’s easier for me to help you.”

you didn’t need to be told twice.

grabbing your chair you pulled it over to hoseok’s desk before settling back down carefully into the seat making sure your skirt was still neat. “so do you know where you want to start? what problems do you find the most trouble with?”

looking at the paper the answer was easy. all of them. ever since the class had moved on to this unit you’d been lost.

“uhh–” You stalled making hoseok raise his eyebrow in anticipation. it was embarrassing to say out loud. math had never been your strong suit in general and now statistics was slowly but surely whooping your ass. the only reason you’d been able to keep the high C you had currently was because of all of the extra credit opportunities he constantly gave out.

“there's no shame in not understanding something,”

“all of it. I’ve kind of been struggling since we moved onto this unit.”

lifitng your chin up hoseok gave you a comforting smile. “and that's completely okay.” your heart fluttered. letting his hand fall down to your leg, hoseok gave your bare thigh a gentle squeeze. “lets get started, okay?”

even though you nodded you were far from paying attention. you couldn’t. not with how close hoseok was and how when he talked his fingers softly caressed your skin. he made your head spin. in a good way, in a perfect way. you never wanted today to end.

“how about you try this one y/n?”

fuck.

“were you paying attention?”

“I’m sorry.” you quickly apologized.

“what's got you so distracted?” instead of saying anything you just looked down. preparing to move his hand Hoseok apologized but you stopped him keeping it right there.

“It’s okay. I–I liked it.”

“really ?” hoseok lifted a brow.

you began to nod but quickly corrected yourself. “yes.” You vocalized.

a pleased grin filled Hoseok’s face. “how about we try something different, hmm?”

“okay.”

interlocking your fingers hoseok got up guiding you over to the couch that was pushed against a near wall. siting down on the leather he pulled you onto his lap, spreading both of your thighs on each side of his body. “you still okay?”

“yes,” You were more than okay.

running his hands up your thighs all the way up to your ass, hoseok squeezed pulling you down deeper into him. “shit–” he groaned. “you're so fucking wet. I can feel you leaking through my pants. why didn’t you say something baby?”

“I’m sorry, Sir.” you moaned out. his hard-on was pressing right into your clit. hoseok was huge. you didn’t even have to see it to know.

reaching down hoseok pushed your panties to the side so that now your clit was in bare contact with the roughness of his slacks. It felt so good. new sensations rushing your body as you swiveled your hips back and forth.

lifitng your sweater and bra up hoseok let your breasts fall free. wasting no time he leaned forward latching onto the hardening pebble. alternating between licking and suckling on one breast hoseok twisted and pulled at the other one.

“oh–oh my..” a whine escaped you as your head lulled to the side. you wanted more–needed more. “muh-more..” you breathed out.

letting go of your nipple with a low pop hoseok stared up at you. “you ever had sex before?”

you nodded. something of a disappointed look flashed across his face. “on–only once though.” you quickly added.

settling you on the cushion next to him, hoseok slid to his knees spreading your thighs back open. you were so exposed, the cool air of the room hitting your cunt as he stared looking as if he’d just won a million-dollar prize. as if it was even possible your face felt hotter.

“don't be embarrassed,” hoseok tsked. “you have such a pretty pussy.”

gripping the globes of your ass hoseok pulled you closer to the edge of the couch. swiping his tongue across your clit, a deep chuckle left his mouth as he pulled away. “so fucking reactive,” he whispered.

leaning back forward he latched himself to your sensitive button. flicking his tongue back and forth, hoseok toys with it pulling low moans from you. you’d never had anyone do this before. “feels so guh-good, professor jung.”

gripping his hair you pulled him closer. his eyes fluttering closed as his tongue dipped into your whole fucking it in and out. sliding one hand up hoseok's fingers found its way back to your nipple. his eyes were closed–his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration as deep groans escaped as if he was being pleasured himself.

pulling his hair tighter your back arches in pleasure. “professor—hoseok!” you cry out squeezing your eyes shut. “oh..oh,” you gasp, feeling the pressure rising in your stomach.

as your mouth falls open you pray everyone else that worked in the hall was gone. loud moans fill the room as you cum hard on his tongue. hosoek doesn’t stop. his tongue flicked faster as he suckles harder on your clit, milking you for all you had.

“professor jung,” you mewl begging for him to give you a minute. of course, he doesn't though. hejust continues greedily suckling making your eyes roll back. when he finally does pull away you let out a moan of relief, your body beginning to fall to the side before hoseok stops you with a firm grip on your hair.

unbuttoning his slacks, hoseok shoves down his pants letting his cock spring free. just like you’d thought it was huge. at least seven inches with a pretty brown tip. telling you to hold out your tongue Hoseok tapped his head on it. his hand massaged the rest of the length as he swiped it along your pink muscle.

“such a good fucking girl,” he grunted moving his hand faster. “next time I’m going to fuck that little pussy. you’d like the, wouldn’t you? fucking slut.” With a deep groan, hoseok nutted all over your face. his hips stuttering as a never-ending flow of cum spurts out.

letting go of the iron-clad grip he had on your hair hoseok falls back onto the couch. wiping away the cum that was on your eyelids, hoseok pushed his fingers into your mouth to which you happily obliged.

a pleased smirk filled his face. “I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

#bts smut #bts fic #hoseok smut #bts fanfic #hoseok x reader #hoseok fanfic #jhope smut

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fire-emblem-drabbles · 1 month

Text

These Violent Desires

Pairing: Yandere! Risotto x reader

Description: You never really had much of a love life. Not for lack of trying on your part, thank you, it just never really happened. Of course, like most people you wanted it: a romance so sweet and comforting it swept you off your feet and left you on cloud nine. But between working full time, being chronically online, and not to mention a depressed mess, you didn't see that happening any time soon. Perhaps its good timing, then, that your ASMR channel starts to take off. Just the distraction you needed from your day to day monotony!

Content Warning: Depression, more depression, minor intrusive thoughts, parasocial behavior, use of female titles (queen, girl) and female reader (will come up more in other parts), I wasn't kidding when I said she chronically online, ask to tag, other parts will different/darker warnings

Rating (fic as a whole): NSFW Rating (Part): SFW

Word Count: 3640

Ao3 Link: These Violent Desires

Notes: I am SO excited to bring this to you! You guys remember the original these violent desires? I sure do! As much as I love that fic, that little series I realize... I really went in to it with not a clue of what my end goal was. Not a great way to write a story. With it being two years since then, and me reading a FANTASTIC FIC from @kneelingshadowsalome (DOG, on their Ao3) that inspired me to reconsider my whole characters and motivations I bring you... this mess (affectionate). I'm actually really excited to bring this back and im gonna start writing the next part as soon as I finish this draft. Also, note: I suspect tumblr isn't gonna respect all the formatting and fun stuff I did so feel free to check it out on Ao3!

Part: One | Two

Sometimes, you really hated your job.

Hated seeing all the cute, happy couples out on a date night. Hated seeing all the happy families and precious little babies. Hated seeing people be so effortlessly happy and carefree. Hated that you had to pretend to be just as enchanted. It made you bleed with jealously, and want to scream and hide in shame.

Although you did feel bad about your burning envy, you hated that it was somewhat malicious; it was just you wanted that same kind of love, someone you were best friends and lovers with-- who you had been together with for years and knew you as much as you knew yourself. Someone you could be yourself with, through thick and thin…

Thinking about it just made you bitter. These things don’t just pop out of nowhere. Relationships had to be worked for; love didn’t just appear. It had to be made, to be cared for and nurtured. So even if you wanted (cried screamed begged) that fairy tale romance to come of sweep you off your feet, it wouldn’t happen. Not unless you find yourself a prince charming awfully soon… And at your current rate well, it wasn’t likely too happen.

You were notoriously bad at dating and getting close to people. Of course, you tried dating apps and meeting new people through your friends but nothing really seemed to click… It didn’t help that you were incredibly dense, as well; with little insight on how dating even worked in the real world you were left just as clueless (and alone) as you came in.

You had a sinking feeling you knew what it was, too; beyond being dense or clueless. You had been struggling against your depression for the better part of your adult life. You got by with plastic smiles and laughs that didn’t really meet your eyes, living life just on the outside looking in. Maybe, people could tell. You always had felt a little different, anyways. Maybe one day you would get better. Maybe one day, you could find something to be happy for. Someone to be happy with.

Today, however, you have a job to do. Rent to make. Jealousy to stew in while you smile and nod and play the perfect little hostess at work. And then you would come home, numb and tired, and not be able to fall asleep. Just to do it again tomorrow.

Work is the same as usual. You’re the only support staff-- no back server to be seen. The servers are too busy with their tables to help you. Seat the table. Water the guests. Grab them bread. It’s all monotonous, said with a sweet smile and voice high and kind. Wait for the guest to leave. Bus the table. Set it back up. And wait for the next guest. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

Its one of those moments in-between, where your gaze is lost far off in the hotel and your thoughts are getting darker by the moment. You wonder if anyone would notice if you just left right now. Walked out into the night, took the wrong bus home, and see what happens where ever you end up.

The shrill sound of the phone ringing catches you out of your stupor. You glance at the phone in surprise, looking down at the screen. Private. Not entirely unusual in your line of work, but just interesting enough. With a gentle hand, you grab the receiver and speak.

“Thank you for calling the Mountaintop Bar and Grill, this is _____ speaking. How may I help you?” Talking on the phone was always easy-- no one could see your not as happy as you sound. Strangely, the line is silent a moment, so you repeat. “Hello, is anyone there?” You wait a few moments again, only hearing faint breathing on the other line if anything. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t hear you. Goodbye.” You hang up the receiver, frowning at the phone before looking at the time.

It was so slow tonight, your surprised to find its nearly time to close. You put up the close sign, take back the last tray and make sure the tables are wiped and reset for the next day. You make careful small talk with your coworkers, make sure that they never think to question what lies beneath the surface of you, and check out with your manager.

You walk slow to your bus, taking the time to put on your earbuds to drown out the world around you. You board the bus, scan your card, and take the same seat you do every time you ride. The same as you always do. The same playlist you always listen to plays, but you don’t really hear it as you open your phone and prepare for the bus ride home.

There was one thing that made you smile, though. Explaining it made you feel kind of silly (mostly strange), but you had a youtube channel. It was kind of small, less than 1000 subscribers really, but the community you built really made you happy. The type of content you created was kind of… niche, to put it nicely. You made asmr videos. Stuff like “Your shy girl friend asks you to spend the night during a big storm (she’s so scared! 🥺🥺)” or “Your roommate asks for your help with her homework (but maybe she wants something more 👀)” or even things a little more raunchy like “You accidentally summon an inexperienced succubus!!! (You Are A Dark Mage Looking For A Familiar)”.

Making them was kind of fun, but what you really enjoyed was your fans. Even if you had never shown your face, (some) of the people in your comments were downright simps. You really only lived for the attention at this point. You even got kind of parasocial with it, talking with some fans in your members only discord.

You scroll through the comments, reading them all and responding to a few while you had the time. Most were sweet, telling you how much they liked your voice and content, others talking about how much you made them blush and giggle. You can’t help but notice you have a new commenter, too. From the looks of things they’ve been following you a while, but have only just now left a comment.

@metal_metalica5

Next time, let me take care of you

It almost feels out of place, with the fully black icon next to it. It’s not like you haven’t had people leaving frankly strange and concerning messages in your comments, but this one rides the line. You wonder who could be behind the comment for a moment. Maybe someone just as depressed and lonely as you, seeking comfort they find in your stories and voice. Someone who just wanted to return the favor. You don’t want to consider anything else, really-- you’d like to think the best of this new commenter.

In the end, you like the comment, smiling to yourself. You check your members discord, seeing the server is a little more abuzz than usual. It was relatively small, with only around 60 people, many of which were lurking themselves. You’re not surprised to find its the same name as the comment left on your most recent video. Your mods and a few members have already greeted them, but you make sure to as well.

work work work today at 9:17 pm

Hi @/metal_metalica5!! Thanks for joining the server, and commenting on the latest video! It’s nice to have your support <3

You don’t wait for a reply, checking out your ats and whats happening in all the other channels. Interacting with everyone brings a smile to your face, and you find yourself grinning as you thank the bus driver and get off at your stop. Cool darkness greets you as you walk down the street to your apartment. Things seem okay-- its your weekend, and you think you could finish recording the last bit of your next video.

Safely indoors, you set your coat and purse down, and make haste to change out of your uniform into something more comfortable. Once you have on some comfortable clothing, you take a seat at your desk and open your laptop. Discord pops open there as well, but you minimize the window for now, opening your recording app. You had been teasing your followers about a 1000 subscriber special for a while, but the idea still made you nervous.

Your plan was to do a live stream/face reveal. It would mostly be talking and playing games, but people could donate to you and you would read out their message. You were still working out the logistics, but you suspected that you would breach 1000 soon so you had better hurry.

“You haven’t ate any food today.” You jump a little at the voice beside you.

“Glory.” You scold, looking over to your stand, Glory and Gore. “I’m not hungry, and I’m busy. I’ll eat before I go to bed.” You turn back to the screen, reading over your transcript for any typos and bad wording.

“It’s not a good idea to neglect the needs of your body.” You can see a frown reach her perfect, pretty lips. You always thought it was unfair your stand was prettier than you. You also thought it ironic that the literal ghost of you was better at taking care of you than the real, physical you (that often felt like a ghost). “You’re already suffering from a few vitamin deficiencies, which aren’t helping with your depression and anxiety at all.”

“Why are you worse than a doctor.” Truthfully, she was right. You should take better care of yourself. You knew that if she could, Glory would fix these things for you. She was a healing stand, able to fix any injury or disease from a person. But vitamin D deficiencies, your stupid little brain chemicals being imbalanced and giving you the Big Sad? Nope. Out of her hands, unfortunately. Ironic that you would have a healing stand and suffer from one of the things she couldn’t fix.

“I just want to see you better.” You look to her, even if she doesn’t have eyes to really see you also, she frowns. Funny, how she was also much more logical and level headed than you.

“Fine, fine. I’ll find some food.” Her hand stops you as you reach for your phone, a stern look taking over her. “Finnnnne, no doordash.” You sigh and place your phone in your pocket, and stand to go to your kitchen. Seeing you head that way, Glory de-manifests, content in knowing you would try to find something to eat.

“...Need to go grocery shopping.” You sigh as you look through the fridge. You really didn’t mind her looking after you. You were aware just how stands were manifest of a users soul and desire-- you wanted someone to take care of you, since you seemed to be failing to do it all by yourself. But at this particular moment, you didn’t have that: what you did have was cheese, and butter. And… turning around, yes, you still have some bread, not yet moldy. Grilled cheese dinner, queen.

You’re even lucky enough to find a singular can of tomato soup in your barren cupboards. Hell yeah, that’s a whole meal. And one you can make in less than 10 minutes. Look at you, being all self sufficient. Queen of mental health over here, cooking her own meals.

As you butter bread and let the pan warm on the oven (soup uncondensed but not quite in the microwave yet), you read more discord chats, surprised to find you have multiple ats all in the gen chat (and a few in the mod chat as well). Everyone is abuzz, with “several people typing” showing up on the bottom of the screen. Gen is moving too fast so you move to the mod chat to see whats happened.

The Best Mod (Jax) today at 10:22 pm

holy shit work work work get in here

Ya Boiiii (Niko) today at 10:22

@/work work work ‼️‼️‼️‼️

work work work today at 10:23

why is everyone going crazy lol whats up

Ya Boiiii (Niko) today at 10:24

smh she don’t even know

The Best Mod (Jax) today at 10:24

you’re over 1000 subs 😤

was like 1010 last I checked

Ya Boiiii (Niko) today at 10: 25

just keeps going up ‼️

work work work today at 10:26

wha

am grilling chesee hold up

You put your phone down, placing the bowl of soup in the microwave and setting the timer with beating heart. Over 1000 subs already? You take a deep breath and place the bread, butter down in the hot pan, placing a generous handful of cheese on top and then the next piece of bread. You pick up your phone barely hearing the sizzling of the bread, instead closing discord to open youtube.

Sure enough, your creator widget shows it: 1013 subscribers, at least a hundred or more than when you last took a look at it. The number was indeed still going up, as when you refresh the page it now reads 1015.

“Where are all these people coming from?” Is all you can wonder. You send a quick “holy shit” to your mods, but quickly return to your food when the beeping microwave calls for your attention.

You pull your soup out quickly, and realize your grilled cheese is starting to burn on the first side and flip it over, relived to see you got to it before it got too bad. Little burnt never hurt anyone anyways. Even as you feel renewed energy and excitement moving through you, you make sure your food is all ready, make sure to turn off the stove top, and fast walk back to your desk with your dinner, eyes quickly going to discord again.

You make sure to send a message in the gen chat, telling everyone thank you and that you’ve seen the good news. Reading back on messages, it seems another popular asmr youtuber (a guy, one you actually follow yourself) had brought you up. He was apparently live streaming (right now), and one of his followers had sent a donation, asking about his thoughts on you. And apparently, he loved your content-- was excited to see what you would do once you hit 1000 followers and not so subtly encouraged his (thousands) of followers to check you out.

work work work today at 10:31 pm

holy fucking shit!?!?! fuckging,,, golden experience likes my content ⁉️⁉️

I can die happy now

im dead

Ya Boiiii (Niko) today at 10:31 pm

nooo don’t die

work work work today at 10:32

joining his stream rn

gonna try to lurk but also I wanna thank him 🥺

The Best Mod (Jax) today at 10:32

im already in lol

I’ll tell everyone you’re here :)

work work work today at 10:33

wait nOOO

You tab out over to youtube to where the stream has finally loaded, to see Mr. Golden Experience ASMR himself smiling.

“Oh, look, it seems our new favorite has joined us. Hello, Gore Gone Wild.” He smiles, sweet and serene at the camera and you feel your heart pound a little.

@/Gore_Gone_Wild

omg hiii!! My mod told me you gave me a little shout out, thank you so much :D

You try so hard to be normal. All the sudden, you’re the fan interacting with your fav. Your dinner goes ignored, soup and grilled cheese cooling as you focus your efforts on Golden Experience's stream.

“It was a donation from your mod that brought the topic up.” He laughs soft and sweet. When you look to the top donations of the stream, you can see Niko’s youtube (@onionthepaladin) at on the top of the banner, having donated $100.

@/Gore_Gone_Wild

omggg that’s… literally so sweet of him. And you!! I’m also a big fan of yours <3

That’s it, you have to kill Niko. You have to travel across the united states, kill your mod, and make sure he never pulls this shit again. You suddenly feel so embarrassed, so light and free.

“Don’t be too rough with him.” Another sweet smile reaches him. God, he’s literally so pretty and perfect. Like, the opposite of you really. How could someone so put together like anything about you…? Oh yeah, you were hiding behind a screen. That’s why. Super easy to keep up the charade… “Truth be told, I’ve been your fan for a while. I was also excited to see what you would do for 1000 followers.” You smile wide as his chat echos his excitement.

@/Gore_Gone_Wild

welll… since its you… I guess I can let you in on my secret :) but only you! Not even my followers know yet so… I’ll dm you :3c

You feel so giddy when you see his eyes widen, see his smile widen a hair.

“Well, I look forward to seeing it.” He chuckles again, and returns to the conversation from before your arrival. His stream is nice noise to eat your now cold dinner to, as your heart hammers a bit when hitting up his dms on twitter. You send him a cute little message, telling him your plans: how you wanted to do your first live stream, reveal your place, and just chill with your followers, playing some games and taking read requests for him. But if he had suggestions, or tips for live streams, you would love to hear them.

You hear a buzz on stream, and watch as Golden Experience picks up his phone. “Looks like miss Gore just dmed me.” He smiles as his eyes scan your text. “I don’t want to seem desperate chat, should I wait to respond?” You watch as chat moves a little faster, some people spamming “simp”, others saying “she’s still here lol”. A few people leave actual advice, to which he reads a few aloud.

“Hmm, you’re right, shouldn’t leave a lady waiting.” He winks at his face cam and you nearly die. You’re gonna have to watch something else, now. Quickly leaving his stream, you take a moment to simply breath at your sub feed, heart pounding fast. You hadn’t been this excited in forever… Guess now it was time to tell your followers for real what what happening.

It’s actually your weekend, you have the next three days off… So with that in mind you go about telling everyone your plans. Your mods (Jax, Nico, and Sammy, whose probably already sleeping), already know, but after Golden Experience, you tell your discord your plans to host the live stream in the next two days.

Then, take a teasing little picture of your setup, with just a little plushie sitting next to your screen. “Excited to see you all this friday :3 Here’s to 1000!” is all the post itself says, but you make a live stream reminder on your page just so everyone knows what happening. You’re so excited you refresh all the pages, seeing at the night owls commenting on your posts with excitement. Now, you aren’t surprised to see a familiar name among them.

First comment on your youtube belongs to you newest member, @metal_metalica5, with another kind of ominous, but not quite out of line comment that simply reads “I know you’re perfect already, bella.” Second comment belongs to Golden Experience himself, commenting from his own account that says “Look forward to seeing you! I’m happy to see you’ve grown so much”.

You tear yourself away from your phone screen, and have to close your computer not to end up just replying to comments on that. You steel yourself to take your dishes to the sink, and actually wash them, too excited by the nights events to even realize that you were. You’re even too excited to review your writing, or record it for that matter, so in the end you end up pacing around in your nerves.

Pacing only wears you down so much, so you decide to lay down with your phone pulled close to your face. Curiosity gets the better of you as you look to the comments again. You click on the profile of @metal_metalica5, curious to see if he has anything on there. He hasn’t posted anything to youtube, nor has he created any playlists for that matter. With the pure black icon, it seems like he doesn’t want anyone to really notice or see him.

You recall he joined your discord as well, and open that up (to tell everyone goodnight, you convince yourself), only to find yourself scrolling through your members to find him offline, with the same blank icon and user name. He has no server profile, no custom status, no banner nor nitro. But… interestingly, it says he joined discord today: member since April 3 rd , 2024, joined April 3 rd , 2024. He must have created discord just to join your server. Perhaps even, he created a youtube account just to comment on your stuff. The idea has you smiling. That someone liked what you created so much, they had to subscribe. Wanted to be closer to you. Were interested in getting to know you beyond what you posted…

Soon, you grow too tired to keep your phone up. Your eyes slowly close, phone cuddled to your chest. Tonight, you sleep tight, content and happy with your online life. When you woke up, it would be the same, gray world as the one you woke to today, but it would be different, better-- because there was something to look forward to. Something, if even for just a little while, to stave off the monotony and sadness and jealousy. For a little while, you could be Gore_Gone_Wild, and everyone will adore you.

Oh, and you'll have to read that DM Golden Experience sent you too! You got so excited you nearly forgot you messaged him.

#yandere #risotto x reader #yandere risotto #yandere risotto x reader #risotto nero #jjba #jjba part 5 #im so so so excited!!!#had to edit this like 5 times bc of accidentally tagging random blogs #so if you see random links in this thats why #they should redirect to something cute now :)

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slytherheign · 2 years

Text

WORTH THE RISK | tasm!peter parker

PART 1/5 OF WORTH: THE SERIES.

PAIRING: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.3k

SUMMARY: there's a new threat in town and spider-man has found himself falling for his roommate. after what happened with gwen, he must decide if it's worth the risk yet again.

WARNINGS: depictions of death, depression, grieving, cursing, and canon-typical injuries. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: 17+]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: some characters may be ooc. there are a lot of flashbacks-current time switching. you can criticize my writing, but please be nice.

DESTINATION: Angst Avenue | GO TO SERIES MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

There was trouble looming around town. Peter Parker felt it. He felt it by the way the hair on his body stood up. He felt it by the way the nerves in his body alerted him. He felt it by the way the wind changed its demeanor as he swung through his beloved New York City.

Aside from the common thefts committed by robbers and the fights brought upon by different gangs, crimes in New York City were almost quiet to him. For a couple of years, there was no big threat that needed Spider-Man’s help.

As the friendly neighborhood hero, of course, he still offered his assistance but the police assured him that they can handle them on their own. He appreciated the thought but his love for the city weighed more than the thought of a much-needed rest. He did not like what the police had insisted. Him not saving New York City? Nope. Not gonna happen. Never.

He could still remember the conversation clearly.

"It's not gonna happen. I'm gonna help you," he told them. To which an officer named Carlos replied: "As much as we appreciate you and your assistance, please let us do our job. The people now trust you more than us, which makes a lot of sense because you have saved so many of us, but our reputation for being able of saving them has got to be back on track."

"So what, you don't want me anymore? You know you can't stop me from helping people, right?"

The middle-aged police nodded. "But you gotta understand, Spidey, what's happening now is that the people call you for help first instead of us. If you keep responding to those calls, there may not be a job left for us anymore. Who are we going to save if you already saved them first?"

Peter understood, as he always did. But the mere thought of not doing anything for the city—his city—got him feeling uneasy.

"But–" he started to reason with him but another officer, this time a red-haired british woman named Charlene, raised her hand to stop him from talking any further.

"How about this..." Charlene started. "In the meantime, put your suit down and rest from all of this crime-fighting stuff and let us handle it. And then when there comes a big threat that needs your help, the first thing we'll do is call you."

Carlos agreed, nodding as he went beside Charlene to hold her hand. So they're a married couple, Peter thought.

"Well, can I at least do a little saving and patrol the city every once in a while?" he asked.

The police couple looked at each other before looking back at him. "Fine," Carlos replied. "We can work with that," Charlene continued.

Peter smiled. "Okay cool. We have a deal then."

It has been two years and what Peter has named the "big threat, big help" call has not been made. Which he thought should be a good thing, right? Because it would mean that his beloved city was safe from being destroyed any sooner.

However, as he currently swung through the city for what he deemed was just a little night patrol, something was off and he knew it. He wasn't even finished patrolling the entire city. There were still a lot of places he has not yet checked tonight. He smelled trouble and the ringing from his phone with the police's name as the caller confirmed it.

He stopped at a rooftop of a random building before he answered. "What's going on?" he asked.

"We need your help," Carlos stated, his latino accent laced with fear. "There's been reports of multiple houses being broken into for the past 15 minutes. 1 person has already died and 6 are badly injured and on their way to the hospital. Given the short amount of time and the fact that the houses are beside each other, we believe they all have the same culprit."

"Do you know what this person looks like?"

"The victims are too traumatized to speak, we couldn't get any information out of them. We're now looking at the city cameras–holy shit."

"What?"

"This isn't just a normal person, Spidey. He's green and he looks like a scorpion."

Peter knew he should think about the injured people.

Peter knew he should think about the poor person who has unfortunately died.

Peter knew he should think about the green scorpion-looking criminal.

But the first person he thought about, was you.

The past couple of years for Peter were eventful, to say the least.

After all, after Gwen's tragic death, nothing was the same anymore.

Was it a bad thing or a good thing? Maybe both? He didn't know.

First was the sleepless nights. Every single time he would close his eyes, images of Gwen free falling to her demise plagued his thoughts. It terrified him—how Gwen's eyes reflected acceptance as she looked at him for the last time. Even in her last moments, she understood... and she accepted. It scared him how she embraced death like a long-lost family member.

Peter knew Gwen didn't want him to blame himself. But he couldn't help it, could he? He was given these abilities... to help people, to heal people, to save people... and yet he couldn't save the person he treasured the most. He couldn't save her.

And even then, at the moments where rest finally found its way to his eyes and body, it would be tormented with nightmares. Rest, for him, was never an option.

Second was the loss of interest. Things that brought him joy before and hobbies that he used to enjoy, he didn't care about them anymore. He was simply uninterested.

Sure, Aunt May had been there for him every step of the way, but even she cannot bring him back to feel anymore. He appreciated his aunt for even trying.

Now came the third and hardest part. As if the pain he was in wasn't enough for the gods above to take pity on him—two months after Gwen's demise, Aunt May passed away.

Peter felt horrible. His last two months with her were him being unresponsive. Aunt May had reached out for him but he didn't meet her halfway. She tried so hard to help him, and in some ways she did, but he was too caught up in his own hurt and pain that it did not occur to him that she was also hurting for her nephew. For him.

Now instead of visiting a grave, he had to visit two.

He was in ruins. Everyone he loved the most was gone and he was left to himself. He had no faith. No hope. No everything. None.

Until you came.

He was visiting Gwen for her first death anniversary. Peter couldn't believe it—one whole year since he lost her. Where did time even go?

It was just like the usual, he would sit in front of her grave, talking to her as if she was still living. He would update her on what was happening in his life—a common thing he would do to his aunt's grave as well.

That was when he heard you loudly sniffing from behind his back. Initially, he planned to ignore it to give you some privacy. But the sniffing got louder and your breathing got even slower. He decided to cut his conversation short with Gwen's tombstone, he could do that any other day. You clearly needed comfort, and while he was not obliged to give it to you, something inside him screamed that he should. He sat up from his position and made his way to you.

What he saw was a heartbreaking sight. You sat across the stone, arms desperately clinging to your knees for comfort. You were aware of the new presence beside you, but you couldn't stop crying. It was all just too much. You had just lost your father last year, and now just a month ago, you lost your mother too. You had no siblings or pets, and your friends were on the other side of the world, too busy to visit or even check up on you. You were alone.

Peter crouched down beside you, trying to meet your eyes. And when he finally did, his heart shattered into pieces. You caught his gaze. "I–I'm sorry–" you sniffed. "It's umm... it's my mom's birthday," you pointed at the tombstone in front of you. "Sh–she died a month ago."

That was it. Your broken voice pulled a string in his heart that made him soft for you. He didn't know what gave him the courage, but he sat down from his position beside you and hugged you tightly.

You were surprised at first but appreciated the comfort. The last time someone hugged you was by your mother on her death bed. For the last month, you lasted on your own. No human interactions except the little greetings you exchanged with the people you passed on the street and the people at work. There were only four places your world consisted of: your house, your workplace, the cemetery, and the grocery store.

You clung to his body as if your life depended on it, and maybe in some ways, it actually did. "It's going to be okay," he whispered. "We're gonna get through this together."

We. Together.

Funny how you just met this man and he cared more for you than the people you called your friends. There was something about him that radiated comfort and protection. You knew you should be embarrassed by yourself, you were a broken mess. You probably looked crazy with your hair all tangled and your face streaked with tears that you were sure just messed up his jacket. But you didn't care, you needed him. And unbeknownst to both of you, he needed you just the same.

That night ended with Peter bringing you to his favorite coffee shop. He treated your coffee as you talked about your life and he talked about his.

You learned that it was his past girlfriend who he was visiting at the cemetery. He told you that it was her first death anniversary to which you replied: "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," he raised the palm of his hand playfully. "It's not like you killed her or anything." he joked.

You laughed with him before moving on to a new topic. You told him about your parents, how your father died from a car crash years ago and how your mother died because of cancer. Was it too early to tell him the heaviest life issues you mostly kept to yourself? You didn't know. But you were at ease when you were in his presence. Maybe that's why you couldn't stop talking the moment he started the conversation.

He told you about his aunt as well. Who died so suddenly after merely two months of his girlfriend's passing. You were so easy to talk to. He almost told you everything about him. Almost. There was a reason why he left out the reason behind Gwen's death—you didn't need to know about the double life he's living. So he left out everything that related to the web-slinging hero.

You were so caught up with each other that it didn't even occur to both of you that two hours have passed until a staff went to your table to inform you that the shop was closing.

You and Peter left the shop afterwards. He insisted to walk you home since it was pretty late at night and he knew just how the night wasn't safe for people, especially for women. You agreed, mentioning that the house was actually your family's but since your parents had died, it was all yours now.

"We're here," you informed him. "So... uh–" you looked down as you played with your fingers. Peter looked at you the entire time.

You met his eyes. "Thank you. For everything. I–I hope this isn't the last time we'll see each other."

"Of course," he smiled.

You hugged him. How the hell did that even happen? You had no idea. You practically just ran to his arms and hugged him. Peter didn't mind though. And if he was being honest, he enjoyed hugging you as well. "See you soon," he added. He didn't leave until you were inside and waved at him from the window.

Maybe this is why the world brought the two of you together. Two broken people who needed healing, ready to heal each other.

His visits became a weekly thing. Every Saturday, he would visit you and you would go to his—and now your own as well—favorite coffee shop. One time you mentioned that you were thinking of moving to a new apartment, the memories that came with your family house were becoming too much to bear. You needed time away from it in order to fully move on. Besides, it was getting lonely. Having a roommate would also be nice. When he asked you what would happen to your house, you told him that you would still visit it once in a while to clean and maintain it.

Peter, like the absolute genius that he was, had an idea.

"What if you move in with me?" he mused.

Your eyes widened by the sudden offer. You looked at him as he stared at you waiting for your answer.

"Be roommates with me?" he asked once again.

You thought hard about the idea.

Peter needed a new start and you needed company. This was shooting two birds with one stone. There was no need for choosing. The choice was already obvious.

You smirked, putting your hand out for him to shake. "Deal."

Before Peter took his way to the police station, he made sure to swing by the apartment the two of you shared to check on you.

You were on the couch sleeping while The Notebook was paused on the television. Tonight was movie night. A tradition you both made to follow every Thursday. An hour ago, he was just cuddling you while watching the film. It was peaceful...

Until he sensed something off.

He couldn't just leave you there, but he also couldn't ignore the nagging trouble he was sensing.

He had to at least swing by the city and check.

He didn't know what to do.

He had to find an excuse, and he had to do it quick.

Luckily, you did it for him.

"You know, for some reason, I'm really craving for some donuts right now," you blurted out.

Peter immediately agreed. "You know what? Let me buy some. I promise I'll be back before you know it," he stood up quickly. "And hey–" he jokingly pointed a finger. "Don't you dare finish the movie without me."

"Noted," you chuckled, grabbing the remote and pausing the film.

He went back to his bedroom to get his backpack before leaving the apartment, smiling as he closed the door.

You had no idea what he needed his backpack for when he was just going to buy some donuts, but you paid it no mind. He probably just wasn't used to getting out without the bag on his back.

Peter, clad in his Spider-Man suit, observed you from afar.

You looked so peaceful in contrast to the chaos that was currently happening outside. And even in moments of deep slumber, you still looked so beautiful.

He realized you fell asleep waiting on him.

He had promised to be back soon. Yet another promise he had to break.

He felt guilty, but it must be done.

There was no time, Peter reminded himself. And so he continued his way to the police station with one thing on his mind.

He needed to protect you.

"Oh thank God, you're here," Charlene breathed in relief. "Here–look at this," she gestured for him to follow her into the room where the city cameras resided. She pointed at one of the screens. "This is what he looks like."

"Do we know where he is now? I could swing through the city and find him." Peter insisted.

"No, we need you here," she replied.

"No offense, but I don't think I should be in here right now. He could still be out there."

"That's the thing–he's gone," Charlene admitted. She nodded at Carlos who just entered the room.

"What?"

"We already sent all our teams. They say he's gone."

"It's like he just disappeared," Carlos commented.

Peter thought hard about what was happening. "No," he gritted his teeth. "He wanted attention. My attention. And he wreaked havoc just to get it."

"But why?" Carlos asked.

Charlene answered for him. "To create chaos. Come to think of it, for the last two years, there was no big threat to the city. Even Spider-Man..." she glanced at Peter. "Laid low."

Peter agreed. "Some people hate the quiet. And they would do everything to bring back the noise and destruction again."

"What will we do now?" Charlene looked at him, waiting for an order as more officers came into the room.

"I'll do patrols as I always do, but this time every day and night. You check the cameras at all times and install some more around the city. Continue sending your teams to patrol as well. Inform the medical facilities—tell them to prepare for a possible surge of injured people. Don't lack on communication, inform and update each other, and..."

Peter looked around the people in the room. "If you see anything suspicious, you know how to call me."

Peter left without another word. The situation was more dangerous than he thought and he planned to get to you as fast as possible. He made a promise to himself that he will keep you safe no matter what it takes.

He found himself knocking on your shared apartment’s window. He saw you slowly stand up from the couch, lazily wiping the sleep off of yourself.

You were confused for a moment, wondering who could be knocking at your apartment at this time—it was coming from the window too.

Surprised would be an understatement for your reaction when you opened up the curtains and saw the Spider-Man in your window. With wide eyes and an open mouth you had to close, you opened the window and let the hero inside.

"Wha—" you stuttered.

"Watch the news," he ordered.

You were confused but nonetheless followed his order. He sounded serious. And when Spider-Man was giving you orders in your living room, you gotta follow them.

"Just an hour ago, a green scorpion-looking identity was reported breaking into multiple houses causing a casualty and 6 badly injured people. We have no report as to where he is right now but the police and Spider-Man are currently in the process of capturing the criminal. Be careful out there, and wish our protectors luck," the reporter informed.

You were fully awake at this point. Not knowing what to do, you looked over the hero who was already looking at you.

Suddenly, you remembered Peter. Surely, it wouldn't take that long to buy some donuts? He was not yet back. And with a killer on the loose, you were getting more worried each passing second.

"Oh god, m-my friend–he's still out there," you started shaking and pacing.

"Peter," Spider-Man replied. You immediately stopped pacing and looked at him so fast you thought it would break your neck. "You know him? Peter?" you asked with hope.

He noticed the worry that hugged your face. He wanted to hug you, tell you that he's Peter and that he loves you when he remembered a promise he made.

To protect you.

Two graves were enough.

Trouble was attached to him. Wherever he went, it followed him.

No matter what it takes.

It was now or never.

So he did what he thought was best to protect you.

"Peter Parker is dead."

He pretended he was dead.

533 notes · View notes

palpameddaislife · 2 years

Text

Bad Batch x Reader: Being emotional around you

Rating: Pg | warnings: none | gn!reader | read below the cut!

Hunter:

The Sergeant usually looks very stoic, but there are certain things that can bring him to the brink of tears. He has survived countless of hard battles in inhospitable places, and usually this doesn't make him bend to his emotions, until he knows that everyone that fought hard has survived. Then, he excuses himself, says that he needs a moment, and goes someplace quiet. There, he allows himself to vent his feelings freely. One time, you were curious. Where does Hunter go every time the squad celebrates another victory against the Imperial Forces? Of course, his heightened senses had him feel you around, despite you wanting to be as discreet as possible about it. He sighed and wiped his eyes, wearing a poor excuse of a reassuring smile.

"Y/n, hey... Why aren't you with the others? I'm gonna be back soon, no worries..." He said, with a slightly hoarse voice.

"Hunter, you've been crying..." You replied with concern.

Then, he realised it's not like he can hide from someone as observant as you, and admitted it with a nod. "I'm just so glad everyone is alright... Thank the Force..." A coarse crying expression is carved on his face, and he immediately wrapped arms around you, letting out some quiet sniffles.

Your arms slowly returned the embrace, even if you still are in a minor shock, as you never expected to witness that view ever in your life, but as soon as you got used to it, Hunter composed himself back to normal. "Alright..." He smiled, feeling whole. "Time to go back... Wrecker has bought food for everyone, we shouldn't miss out..." He gently pushed you forward, and you both walked back to the crew.

Wrecker:

You were watching your favourite holo - soap opera. A silly, but dramatic series. Wrecker is pretty interested in it when the squad is out of missions resulting in his boredom. He always loves to see what will happen next, even if it's badly written. Sometimes, you get bored of it. But not every episode fails to capture hearts. A major character death, the lover of the protagonist, and you could hear a faint whimper next to you. You turned and saw Wrecker's lips treble and his body curling around his Lula. He was trying to blink tears away, but you noticed that, and you wanted to let him know that it's ok to cry during movies or series.

Your palm found his knee, and startled him. "Do you maybe want a tissue?"

"N- no, no, I'm good... Something in my eye..."

"Wrecker, that's a famous excuse... Come here." You rolled your eyes and invited him in your arms.

He looked at you for a moment, before gently shifting on the bunk to lay his head on your chest. He suddenly thought, these things on the holonet were fake, but what he had with you was totally real and there, and he felt so happy for you two. He smiled, and squeezed your waist gently. You run your hands on his head, which encouraged him to snuggle you more. He was so comfortable he wasn't even able to finish the episode, as he fell asleep on your lap.

Echo:

You caught him fixing the *Marauder* one day. He was very focused on his work, his prosthetic arm tightening some screws. Something wasn't really going as planned, and he let himself curse at the engine. You hesitantly approached him, making an awkward face at his cussing. You waved at him. The moment he noticed your presence, he winced and apologized for being so crude. He was constantly looking down at his feet when he was around you, scratching his head and fidgeting. He never thought that you would actually lay eyes on him and think he's beautiful.

"Hey, Echo... Your good profile looks even better in the sun..." You told him, and he chuckled, thinking you were just teasing him.

"Yeah, my implants shine..." He ironically said, mostly to himself.

"No, I mean it."

For a moment, he feared that something's up with his hearing implants, and raised an eyebrow. But when he heard it again, he was certain.

"A- are you sure?" He suddenly looked shorter than before. His arms crossed.

"I'm certainly sure. Look, Echo. Don't put yourself down because you just look different than before. You are brave and patient. That's why you have survived everything. You did well!" Your hand was laid on his shoulder.

You heard a faint whimper, as he hesitantly cupped your cheeks with trembling hands. His eyes welled up with tears before he even realised it. He wasn't having people tell him such things so often, even when his brothers remind him that he has fought well.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him in a hug, he eagerly returned. "Th- thank you..."

"It's just the truth! Say, wanna try to fix that ship together? You could use another pair of hands!"

He smiled to your offer, and threw a corkscrew at you, with a smug expression on his face, as he turned back to his tasks.

Tech:

Tech, the genius of the squad is rather... Too pragmatic and logical. He doesn't connect objects or fiction with any kind of sentiment. While the others gain so much joy from a toy or armour or any other object people usually get serotonin from, he classifies them merely as objects. And whenever Omega and Wrecker watch their favourite holo series with him, he doesn't get it, why do they experience such a vast range of emotions, from happiness, to sadness, to anger... Even fear. He just stands there, hugging his knees, eyes full of question. He usually gets bored after a while, and prefers to lose himself in his books, that stimulate his brain way more than just easily digested images and sound.

However, this does bother him sometimes. There are nights he is up reading about starship mechanics or the geology of various planets, but he cannot concentrate on them. Instead, he lets the books lie on his chest and stares in the night sky. Wondering why he will never understand others or vice versa. You had heard shuffling from his bunk, and wondered what was up. He usually stays up late, but either is piloting the *Marauder* or quietly reading. But he sounded quite restless that particular night.

You climbed off your bunk and tiptoed to his. "Hey, Tech?" You whispered, and gently pulled down the blanket from his face.

"Hi, y/n..." He replied with a slightly nasal accent followed by a sniffle. He wasn't wearing his googles. He looked tired, sleepless.

"Have you been crying? That's rare..."

"Crying helps reduce stress because it releases oxytocin..." He whispered hoarsely.

"I don't wanna hear about the trivia of the day. I'm more interested in you. Are you alright?" You gently put a hand on his chest.

"Yeah, I'm totally healthy, as far as I am concerned." He glanced at your hand.

"I'm not referring to that. I'm taking about your mood. Seems like something's bothering you."

"It's nothing important... Just... I realise I fail to understand others... Most of the times... It isn't such a major problem, but sometimes... Ah, feelings are hard."

"Indeed they are. May I lie down here too?"

He looked at you for a moment, but nodded. You rested your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. He chuckled to himself and gave a kiss on your forehead. Soon after, you were both sleeping soundly, in each other's arms.

Crosshair:

You may wonder if this man ever gets vulnerable. He's always smug, sarcastic, cold around others. And after he joined the Empire, he has become ruthless. It's like he's raising invisible walls around him. Impenetrable walls. Towards his soldiers he's almost robotic when giving orders. But deep inside his heart, there are intense feelings he doesn't even want to acknowledge, most of the times. It's mostly anger. Intense anger. At his brothers, that don't see the bigger picture, that decide to put themselves at risk for a supposed greater cause, and refuse to join him. It feels like they have... Forgotten about him. And they don't trust him anymore.

He was sitting inside of his small headquarters, on his bunk, head full of these thoughts that feel like heart stabbing. He rested his back on the wall, and curled his tall body into a ball. His angry face turned to a grievous one, and his eyes became glassy. A heavy, shaky sigh left his lips. But not too later, you knocked his door. He winced, and cut it immediately out with the emotions.

"Who." He said, dryly, trying not to let the shaking of his voice betray him.

"It's me, Crosshair... Can I come in?" You replied. Recognising your voice, he immediately lets you in.

He trusts you enough to allow you in his room, to hang out. But he still wears his rough facade. Because he doesn't want anyone to see what he's feeling.

You sat next to him. Too close. You had noticed his stiffness. He gave you the *move* look. But you didn't. He furrowed his eyebrows and glared at you. "Sigh, I think I need some time alone..."

"Why, is everything alright?" You asked.

"Yeah, I'm just tired... What with the interrogation?" He muttered through his teeth.

"That's no interrogation! I just wanted to know if you're alright, Cross..."

"Yeah, I'm ok... Don't you worry..." He played with his toothpick.

"I see something in your eyes... It's sadness."

"I have no sadness. Now, leave..."

"Come on, Cross... It's alright, you can share with me." Your hand traveled on his shoulder.

"No, I'm fine..." He didn't sound that fine. His knees moved closer to his face again. Once your arms were wrapped around him, he started sobbing faintly.

After a while, he dozed off on your shoulder. He was so tired, he cried himself to sleep. You helped him lie down on his bed and covered him, leaving a kiss on his head. As you left his room, you chuckled to yourself, as you were sure he'd want you to forget it the next day.

#star wars #the bad batch #bad batch x reader #hunter x reader #wrecker x reader #echo x reader #tech x reader #crosshair x reader #bad batch #sergeant hunter #tech bad batch #crosshair #wrecker bad batch #arc trooper echo

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katrinegrey · 7 months

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A Fire in the Flesh final thoughts

Major Spoilers (and rambling) ahead y'all. You've been warned.

[This was typed on mobile. I apologize in advance for the terrible formatting and spelling in addition to my post-book excited nonsensical ramblings.]

Excuse me while I scream and cry and bemoan the next 6 months we'll have to wait to see Sera and Nyktos and everyone again even though we literally just got the new book yesterday.

I'm so happy with where this book cutoff too. Like, there's still plenty that has to happen but there's no awful cliffhanger. The first like two thirds were a little bit of a struggle, not gonna lie, but in true JLA fashion that last third was *chef's kiss*.

I thought Nyktos was going to be my favorite character to come out of this book, as he had with the previous two, but he wasn't. It's fully Sera and by an absolute fucking mile. She's perfect.

The parallels in this book between Flesh and Fire and the Blood and Ash series were exactly what I've been hoping for. All the little pieces are starting to come together in a big way with the plot (pretty poppy, sotoria's whole storyline, why Kolis was never killed outright, etc.) but also all of the tiny little tidbits thrown in. Sera slamming her hands over her face, the cavern, how she keeps talking about how she would want to treat her kids...it was all so beautiful.

Getting to know some of the other characters better was great too. That was one of my biggest complaints, how so many of the side characters weren't fleshed out as far as they feel like they could have been. That changed quite a bit with Attes and Rhain, but even the villainous characters like Callum, Kyn, Veses, and Calliphe. The depth they're given without giving a pass to the awful things they've committed was masterfully executed.

I will say, on a very personal and petty side note, there was a severe lack of young draken in this one, and I will pout until May about the lack of Jadis and Reaver. However, that part where Sera is mostly unaware in her dreamlike state, while but she feels Jadis on her legs was just too cute for words.

Speaking of words, my GODS did Nyktos have some. I was a little worried with as little page time that boy had in the first two thirds that they weren't going to be able to flesh him out enough to satisfy, but ho mama was so wrong. Chapter 39 to finish was perfection of every kind. Heartbreaking and hot and sweet.

And if anyone has a petition going for an ASOAAB type book of Sera in stasis from Nyktos' perspective, I will totally sign it.

Seeing Sera go full Primal in the next book will be so worth the wait. I desperately need to see her talk to Ezra again too.

Rating: 5 stars

#seraphena mierel #nyktos #flesh and fire series #afitf spoilers #a fire in the flesh spoilers

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veritable-trash · 8 months

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May Our Flowers Always Bloom

guess who spent wayyyy too much time on canva making this(it's me)

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Fem!Character(unnamed, 3rd person, minimal descriptors)also this is a fantasy AU where oberyn is a forest prince, canon be damned

Summary: He could still remember the first time he saw her enter his grove. Not many dared to venture so far into the wood but she had seemed so at ease. Feet bare to the moss and dirt, flowers delicately woven in her hair, a song he’d never heard gracing her lips.

He’d been stunned.

Word Count: 3.3K

Rating: T - no smut, though maybe there will be??? who knows, but also parental death, and at this point i think that's it. let me know if i missed something! my whole blog is 18+ anyways so kiddos SCRAM

A/N: hahahaha holy shit. it's been actually an age since i've written anything at all and then today i said fuck it we write and then i wrote this. this is a little fantasy au with my lover oberyn who i've wanted to write for AGES. canon is not really relevant here other than like general personality and such. i might write a part two, maybe make this a series, but every time i say that i never finish or write it so i'm just gonna leave this here for now and see what happens. more rambles, notes thoughts at the end but i hope you enjoy!!!! also minimally edited basically just skimmed so apologies for any mess :) <33333

masterlist woot woot

~~~~~

She had grown up at the edge of the great woods.

A bit further from the village than maybe strictly necessary but her parents had always been a little off, at least by the town folks standards.

They had always turned to the earth, turned to the plants to heal and guide them and she had grown with her toes wiggled into the soft dirt, hands clutching at wildflowers and weeds. She knew nothing else. Hated the noise and the chaos of the town. How people stared and whispered about the wild family out in the woods.

She never felt like she was wild. Almost felt as if the townsfolk themselves were the wild ones. But she toed the line between the “real” world and the world of her creation.

The magical realm of the woods.

Her parents had of course warned her of respecting the forest. That though they tried to live as one with all that the earth provided, there were dangers that lurked among the gnarled roots and towering pines. She must tread carefully and never, ever after dark.

And she obeyed, but only just. Curled up against the base of the trees, writing or sewing or singing or musing, until the sun barely grazed the top most points of those towering giants high above her and the forest began to melt into darkness and secrets.

Those were her favorite moments, eyes adjusting to the low light, fireflies dancing between the trunks and leaves, the calm silence filtering its way signaling the time for rest, and for some reason she could never explain she never felt danger. Even when she would reappear from the woods, darkness having fully settled and her parents scolding her for staying out so long, she somehow knew nothing would harm her among those woods.

She was somehow interwoven with the roots and moss and flowers and leaves.

~~~~~

He could still remember the first time he saw her enter his grove. Not many dared to venture so far into the wood but she had seemed so at ease. Feet bare to the moss and dirt, flowers delicately woven in her hair, a song he’d never heard gracing her lips.

He’d been stunned.

Oberyn had only just been allowed to venture in the human realm. He was still a child to his mother, the wild unruly one who could not be trusted to keep the secrets of Dorne to himself. To understand that the human realm could not know, never know, about the forest kingdom.

For even though Oberyn could see her in the brightest light of day, she could not see him. He could only appear as one of those verdant things that always seemed to attract her attention. Only upon his knighthood could he enter the human world.

And so he watched her.

Sat with her in those mystic groves. Grew her beautiful flowers to pick and adorn her hair. Whispered to the lightening bugs to guide her home when she stayed till twilight. Followed her through the forest until the very edge, keeping her safe, clearing her way, making sure nothing harmed her on her return home.

They were both so young when they stumbled upon each other in that wood, knowingly and unknowingly, and he grew to cherish those moments. He had always felt a bit different from his family. Lonely and misunderstood, and for some reason around her he felt whole. A calmness settling over his ever twitching hands that he was constantly scolded for.

He knew he was young, infatuation fickle and deceiving, and yet he could not lie to himself that his heart somehow felt tethered to her. Even the silent companionship of reading right next to her filled the gapes between his ribs with warmth.

He would sometimes read over her shoulder at the pages of the newest novel she was devouring, aching to know more about the world she came from. Aching to know more about this girl that haunted all of his dreams.

If his family noticed a shift in his habits, they paid no mind, ever the youngest child, left to his own devices, but he yearned for his knighthood. Ached to be known to her somehow, for it was torture only being able to ghost soft gentle breezes across her skin. Watch her skin prickle, and the most content sigh to fall from her lips.

He could go mad with this want.

~~~~~

Her parents passed soon after her 18th birthday.

It had been sudden and destructive. A trip to the market for more supplies cut short by an overturned cart and poor poor timing. The village had helped her but even with such grief and suffering regarded her with distrust.

The wild girl loosing her wild parents, it truly is no surprise. Who knows what they get up to in that little shack by the woods. Witchcraft probably. Yes, yes most likely so.

And when the whispers and worry and pain all became too much, the wood was still always there. The first few months after her parents passing she would run there. Tripping over roots as tears overflowed in her eyes, not sparing those flowers even a second glance as she collapsed in the middle of the grove, sun filtering around her but her body feeling nothing.

She’d dig her nails in the moss, tearing at it as she wailed to no one and nothing, aching for something to ease the pain of a loose she still did not know how to process. Would lay there, unmoving for hours on end until the numbness finally took over and she was able to walk home, unfeeling and disjointed, reality but a film over her eyes. And even in those most dire moments the wood somehow always guided her home as though the trees opened themselves up to create a path.

Her work continued, mothers came for tonics for crying babes, elders came for salves for their aching limbs, and she continued to bear the mantle her parents had trained her for all these years. She had to make coin somehow and the work steadied her. Reminded her of her mothers calming cadence listing off ingredients, her father teaching her of proper techniques for harvesting.

She grew many years in the span of only a few months, but she had to hardened. Had to strengthen her spine and learn to be sure in herself even when it felt like all her threads were fraying.

The woods were all that saved her in those trying moments.

It was somehow always warm and soothing, wild flowers littering her path as she traveled aimlessly to cleanse her mind. Picking them one by one to build the most beautiful bouquet that would grace her work table in the cottage. It was a ritual for her at this point in her life, always returning to that sacred groove that somehow gave her the greatest peace she’d ever known. Where worries seemed to melt into the soil beneath her feet and lighten the load on her shoulders just a touch. Always a gentle breeze to remind her of the wonders of the wood. The calm that could be found there.

Her strides back home were always a touch more assured, a touch lighter, and she somehow knew it was all going to be alright somewhere in the end. And every time she’d step out of the wood, she would always turn around and whisper,

Thank you.

~~~~~

You’re welcome flower.

He was taller than her now, able to look down into her eyes when she whispered those simple two words that set his heart racing. Sometimes it even seemed like she was looking right at him, eyes somehow connecting even between the realms, though he knew it was not true.

He’d been at a loss when she’d first stumbled into their grove, tears staining her cheeks. He could not understand what plagued her. Was it heartbreak? Had she loved another? Had they hurt her so?

It had sent him into a rage he’d never felt before. The jealousy, the want, no the need to hurt whoever had hurt his flower overwhelmed him till he could barely see straight.

His hands had ghosted over her hunched spine, he’d whispered his sorrow for her suffering and it only drove him crazier.

The knowledge that she felt none of it. Wasn’t able to hear a single word.

He grew her flowers, sent her breezes, shifted the very earth of the groove to cradle her in the plushest of moss and yet her eyes seemed to register none of it.

They were hollow and vacant, the pain seeming to have sucked every twinkle that had made his heart skip.

But he never stopped trying.

He couldn’t stop. His flower, as he’d started calling her, was suffering a pain he could not understand but he could try and fix.

Though he was still but a boy, he wanted to be a man for her.

He grew brighter blooms, lined a path for her to walk to and from the groove, sent breezes filled with orange blossom and spiced earth to ease her heart, used his powers, though still weak, in every way he knew how, and slowly he saw his flower blooming once again.

The first time she’d picked a flower after that never ending winter of pain, he almost shed a tear. Her eyes had sparkled just slightly and she’d tucked it behind her ear, the softest hum of content gracing his ears.

He felt as though he had slain the greatest beast that ever lived.

~~~~~

It had been two years almost to the day after her parents passing that the forest had shifted.

She didn’t know how to explain it but the air between the trees no longer smelled of orange blossoms and cinnamon.

It just smelled like the dirt and decaying leaves and dampness that came with the forest.

There were no flowers lining the way to that ever calming clearing like she had grown so accustomed to. No soft breeze pushing her along.

She couldn’t understand it, and even more perplexing was the single most beautiful flower that she found growing in the center of groove.

A lone sprig of forget-me-nots trembling in a breeze that only held the faintest notes of that orange blossom that she had known for the past two years.

Something in her heart stirred, body growing both cold and hot all at once, unsure of how to understand what this shift, this change all meant.

It felt almost blasphemous to pick the flower, and yet she couldn’t leave it all alone in this place that no longer felt like a home to her. So she delicately clipped it at its base and turned around and walk back to the cottage.

The journey took longer than usual, no guiding flowers or friendly lighting bugs to guide her, and her heart sank further as though she had lost something great once again.

She gently pressed the flower between the pages of her most treasured journal clutching it to her chest as she watched the forest, as if waiting for something to emerge, the sparkle to return, for the forest to feel like hers again.

But as the sun sank behind the treetops and the sky shifted into the darkness, the forest did not call to her.

It was the first time in a very, very long time that she truly felt alone.

~~~~~

Oberyn had both not wanted to leave and ached eternally to start his quests. He knew what it meant to turn 20. To reach the age where knighthood must be found in a man, for he had longed for this day all his life.

But watching the confusion and pain on her face as she left the forest that day felt like a knife in his gut. A weeping wound that he did not know he would survive.

He had been foolish to leave the flower, he knew that. Risky and impulsive and dangerous to say the least but he could not leave her without somehow saying goodbye. Without somehow showing her that he would come back, that he could never stay away from her for too long, but he could not foretell how long his quests would be. No way of knowing where he would go, who he would meet, the man he would become in the distant realms.

There was war out there, struggle and strife, and he knew his family expected greatness from him. When Doran, his older brother, had returned from his journeys, he came back with prestige and honor, but he had also come back with an illness that it seemed no one could heal.

What if Oberyn was left like his brother after his journeys? How many years would he be gone? What if he could not return to his flower? What if she left the forests edge to never be found again?

He could barely sleep the days leading up to his departure, and those final moments with her in the groove brought him to his knees.

He knew he was young, knew that loves came and went and that there would maybe be others for him to love, but something about her called to him in ways he had never understood. And yet if he wished to truly be with her, to brush the delicate skin of her cheeks, to hear her say his name, to feel the warmth of her skin against his, he had to go. He had to toil and suffer and fight and return back to this place and finally reveal himself to her as he has always wished to.

That was the only way.

And so a flower he left. A memento of their many years together that she knew nothing about but maybe someday would learn of when the time was right.

~~~~~

She didn’t exactly avoid the forest after that strange day, but she didn’t tempt the fates so to speak.

There was a change in the energy of the forest, a boundary of sorts she had never felt, cutting her off from something. She no longer stayed into the twilight hours, returning earlier and earlier from her scavenging and harvesting, and even stranger was she hadn’t been able to find her groove.

It was as though it had disappeared completely, a figment of her imagination. The trees looked the same, the path well worn by her own two feet and yet she could never seem to reach it. It always seemed just around the next bend and it made her brain wobble.

Her reality was somehow shifting and changing, as though those years after her parents passing had been just a daydream. But now she knew how to survive loss. Knew how to put her head down, focus on her work, her garden, the townspeople, her home. One day in town on an errand she had stumbled upon a scruffy little kitten, skittish and hungry, and had wrapped him up in her arms and brought him home.

Viper and her were inseparable from that day forth.

And though every so often she would stare at the forests edge, a wistful sigh escaping her lips, there was a life to be lived. Her life. A life that she had been neglecting for too long and had been too afraid to start.

Life became a bit easier after that. The realization of wanting a future that made her proud, that would have made her parents proud, focusing her and giving her new purpose. She was no longer that wild girl of her youth, but a woman of healing to those in need. The valley she lived in wasn’t extremely large, but there were enough children with runny noses and achy joints to keep her busy and fulfilled.

The days, months, even years began to pass in calm waves, time lapping at the shores of her life, peace finding its way back in her heart, her soul.

Though every once in awhile loneliness would come again. A chill in her spine reminding her of all that she had lost, all that she could never have, and the only balm in those moments was pressed between the pages of that old weathered journal. Even years later there still remained a trace of that orange blossom spice between those pages and somehow the blue of the flower remained true.

She sometimes would worry that one day she would open the journal and the flower would be gone, all traces of those memories erased as if they never existed, but that day never came.

~~~~~

His quest seemed never-ending. The distances he traveled unfathomable even to his understanding.

It felt like there was no land he had not traversed as he fought and learned and matured.

A lanky boy no longer but a man, roughened, shaped, cut, molded, and broken apart only to be thrown back together again.

He thought of his flower more often than he cared to admit.

~~~~~

It was the 10 year anniversary of her parents passing.

A lifetime so it seemed and yet the ache still lingered fresh every year on the day.

She knew it always would and now after so much time it was more comforting than painful, knowing that she would always hold them close in her heart. The pain now a symbol of love not suffering.

That morning had felt strangely fresh, the air lighter around her as the sun rose above the mountains, an unidentifiable familiarity weaving through the breeze.

She entered the forest as she always did, though there was no plan for this walk. No need to scavenge, no pressure to look for fresh herbs. This walk was to mourn, to honor her parents and the memories she held of them in this sacred place.

Weaving between the trees, it somehow felt new to her, like the light had shifted once again, coloring the path before her in the richest of greens. She closed her eyes for just a moment and could almost hear her mothers laugh echo between the branches and leaves above her. A lone tear trickling down her cheek as she couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

As she aimlessly moved through the forest, she got lost in her own mind. The memories of so many moments flashing before her as she pondered all that she had lived through. A life so full and yet, today, as it happened every year, she felt lonely. No longer achingly so, but still, there was a life she still desired that had never presented itself to her.

A love like her parents had.

She was no nun by any means, but no one had ever grasped her attention the way she had always dreamed. Maybe she was fickle, cold and reserved, but her heart had suffered much and for some reason no one had ever felt right.

Her mind continued to weave through her memories, the forest thickening around her as she traveled deeper and deeper into the green. It had been a long time since she had gone this far, but today it felt ok to keep going. As though a solid hand lay at the base of her spine guiding her gently along.

All of a sudden the tree line broke, that ancient grove appearing before her once more as though it had been waiting for her arrival.

Her breath stalled in her chest as memories came flooding back faster and faster. The tears, the flowers, the pain, the joy, the tranquility, the confusion, the comfort, the love.

She collapsed to the soft mossy floor, the feelings bringing back the strongest deja vu, burying her head in her hands as tears blurred her vision. It felt like some kind of dream, some inexplicable moment of fiction.

Then the breeze kicked up and she smelled it.

Orange blossoms and cinnamon.

And as she opened her eyes, tears tracking down her cheeks, she saw him.

A man too beautiful to be real crouching before her, a look of devastating devotion etched in his golden irises.

“Hello my flower.”

~~~~~

whoop whoop of course i left it on a cliffhanger come on now it's the best way to do it :))))))) anyways lifes been kinda crazy and so writing has just been not a priority but i had a lot of fun writing this. i definitely don't like writing dialogue hence ending at this point because there haven't been any interactions between these two BUT i missed this and want to push myself to write again and maybe this is the perfect way to do it. so maybe they will interact soonish who really knows <3 reblogs comments are like super duper appreciated and loved so if you liked it or have thoughts or generally just wanna ramble about how hot this man is come hit my line! anyways hugs kisses the whole gambut of affection and maybe i'll be writing to ya soon <333333333

#oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x oc #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x ofc #oberyn martell #game of thrones #oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn martell fic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #fantasy au #lol canon can suck it

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karahalloway · 8 months

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Sleepless in New York: Chapter 11 - Cold Light of Day

Series: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Synopsis: What if Drake met Harper on the first night of Prince Christian’s New York bachelor party? A stand-alone AU written from Drake's POV.

Masterlist: Sleepless in New York

Chapter Summary: It's the morning after the night before, and Drake does some reminiscing...

Word Count: 3,500

Rating/Warnings: E (swearing, angst, awkwardness, references to masturbation, obsessive-compulsive drinking)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: So... This was not what I was supposed to be working on 🙈 My plan was to finish up Part 3 of Thanksgiving so it could be my submission for this year's Flufftober, but - as per usual - my brain (and my characters - thank you, Walker!) had other ideas, so here we are 😅

A/N2: I had 90% of this chapter written before the start of the summer, but then my inspiration kinda fizzled out, and I only finished it very recently. I was then umming-and-ahhing about whether to wait to post until the next part was also finished, or whether to split the content into two chapters. I went with the latter. Next chapter should be posted soon, though! Thanks for bearing with me! We're almost at the end (I know I keep saying this, but I can officially see the light at the end of the tunnel now!)

Chapter 11 - Cold Light of Day

My eyes snap open.

And just like that, I'm back on top of the hotel room bed, staring up at the ceiling, my hand wrapped around my still-pulsing dick.

Fuck.

I've never tripped out like that before.

Sure, I've dived down the rabbit-hole of a fantasy or two before. I mean, what guy hasn't? You're not gonna jack off staring at your own schlong, and if porn isn't available, you're gonna make up your own.

But to lose myself in the warren of make-believe so completely? To the point where the line between fact and fiction dissolves and I've lost all sense of direction?

Never.

Though I guess I now know what The Matrix feels like...

As if to evidence the point, I feel the end-results of my feverish daydream slide down my hip.

I swallow a groan. Great...

Yet another reason why I'd wanted to avoid flying solo. Because in addition to the sour taste in your mouth, you're always left with a God-awful mess to clean up... Especially if you hadn't had the foresight to grab a towel beforehand.

Which leaves me with an unenviable choice: make an awkward dash to the bathroom while trying (and most likely failing) to contain the dog's breakfast sitting in my lap; or repurpose something to act as an impromptu rag...

...though one downwards glance quickly narrows my options.

Definitely Option 2.

Unclenching my cum-covered hand from my junk, I carefully balance on an elbow as I reach up to grab the collar of my t-shirt. Because given the extent of the damage, there's no way I'm making it to the sink without some serious casualties.

And I'd rather sacrifice the shirt off my back than the one pair of jeans I'm going to have to travel back home in.

Decision made, I pull the t-shirt over my head, lowering myself carefully back against the headboard so I don't accidentally capsize my payload onto the covers. Because that's definitely not something that I have in me to deal with tonight.

Scrunching the cotton up, I wipe my hand before reach down to begin cleaning myself up...

...and nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of the loud rap on the door.

"Room service...!"

"Shit!" I cuss under my breath, tossing the ruined t-shirt onto my duffle while grabbing for my jeans as I roll of the bed.

Yanking the denim up as my bare feet hit the floor, I quickly secure the fly and top button with one hand while scrambling for my wallet with the other. "Two secs!"

Locating the well-worn, hand-stitched leather on the bedside table, I flip it open and extract a couple of notes for the tip. Throwing the wallet back onto the bed, I do one last visual sweep to make sure that everything was kosher before—

Knock-knock-knock!

"I said I'm coming!" I holler back, wrenching my belt through its buckle as I make my way across the room.

Sweet Jesus! Hold your fuckin' horses already!

Reaching the entranceway, I snap an irate hold on the door handle. Wrenching it back, I come face-to-face with the impatient staff member who's gearing up for yet another round of aggressive knocking.

"Oh!" she exclaims in surprise, her fake-lash enhanced eyes going wide. "I—"

"No need to wake the whole damn neighbourhood..." I tell her tersely. "I said I was coming."

She flushes scarlet, not quite knowing where to look. "Sorry... The... umm... the doors are sound-proofed, so I... I couldn't—"

"Never mind," I grunt, pulling the door wider so she could wheel the food in.

She stares at me like a newborn calf seeing a fence for the first time.

I quirk a brow. This girl high, or something?

But just as I'm about to open my mouth to say something, she snaps out of whatever trance she's stumbled into and quickly refocuses her attention on the task at hand.

Stepping back, she reverses the service cart slightly so she can angle it into the room...

...and she still manages to hit the door frame on the way in.

The contents of the trolley jerk with a loud rattle and I have to snap a hand out to save the bottle of whiskey from crashing onto the floor.

"Christ alive..." I mutter under my breath.

"Oh, my God!" she gasps, face going red. "I am so s—!"

"I'll take it from here," I tell her, throwing the whiskey under my arm as I snatch the clonche-covered tray off the trolley while it was still in one piece.

"But—"

"Thanks," I say firmly, holding the tip up with an uncompromising look.

She glances at the notes almost morosely before reaching out to take them with a sigh. "Is there anything—?"

"Nope," I say, moving to close the door back 'round. "I'm good."

"Okay..." She heaves a breath as she begins to pull the cart back into the corridor. "Well, if you change your—"

"I won't," I assure her, flicking the door closed as soon as she's cleared the threshold.

Jesus... Talk about incompetent.

Retracing my steps, I deposit the tray onto the bed and reach for the whiskey under my arm.

Unscrewing the top, I tip the bottle back, not bothering with a glass from the mini bar.

The sweet sting of the amber liquid hits the back of my throat, and I suck it down, feeling the familiar warmth snake its way through my insides.

God, I needed that.

I take two more generous swallows — after the shit way the second half of the night had ended up unfolding, I'm seriously overdue some Southern comfort — before pulling the bottle back down and re-attaching the cap.

Chucking the bourbon onto the covers, I detour to the bathroom to wash my hands properly before sitting down on the edge of the bed and lifting the clonche.

The smell of grilled meat and salted carbs plumes out into the room, and my stomach growls in response.

Fuck, I'm starving.

Grabbing the burger with both hands, I tear into it viciously. The smoky flavour of the beef hits my tongue, followed quickly by the creaminess of the melted cheddar, and the tang of the pickles.

And even though it's not quite as good as the one I had back at the dive bar, that doesn't stop me from wolfing down another ravenous bite before the first one's cleared my gullet.

Because given how hard my body's craving the calories, even a tub of caviar would've tasted like ambrosia right now... And I fuckin' hate caviar.

Gulping the mouthful down, I grab a handful of fries and throw 'em down the hatch as well, barely pausing to chew before I swallow.

This ain't a high society dinner, so fuck table-manners.

Chowing down on the food like it's my last meal on Earth, I polish off the plate in record time, even wiping up the wayward bits of relish that had escaped the bun with last couple of fries...

...and am rewarded with a loud belch for my efforts.

I scoff. Probably shouldn't've eaten so quick...

But what's done is done. And my body sure as hell feels the better for it.

Sucking my fingers clean, I reach for the bourbon again. Taking another swig — much more measured this time — I drop the clonche back into the now empty plate and move the tray onto the upholstered bench that sat at the foot of the bed.

Glancing down at my watch, I can see that it's just coming up to 5am.

Which means that dawn's right around the corner.

I glance briefly at the bed.

But I know there's no point.

Because as exhausted as I am, I know I'm never gonna be able to nod off. Not this close to departure time. I'll just be staring at the ceiling, counting the minutes 'til my alarm rings.

Especially since the sun's about to come up. And when that happens, there's no way in hell I'm catching any shut-eye. My circadian rhythms are too well-tuned for that.

So, closing the bourbon back up again, I push myself heavily up from the bed. Making my way over to my duffle for the third time tonight, I extract my last wearable shirt.

Pulling it on, I grab my phone — no urgent messages or missed calls, thank fuck! Though the battery's on the verge of dying...

But it's gonna have to suck it up in power-saver mode. Because I only have a handful of self-imposed fiats that I live my life by. And top of the list is never leave anywhere without my phone.

Ever.

I learnt that lesson the hard way...

And I'm not about to break my cardinal rule. Especially not after Chris' disappearing act last night.

So, dropping the device into my pocket, I reach for my sidearm — another thing I never go anywhere without. Slotting it into the back of my jeans, I grab the keycard and exit the room again, not bothering with shoes.

I'm not plannin' on being gone long. And my feet could do with a break after racking up some serious miles over the past 24 hours in my boots. Plus, it feels good to let my soles run free — especially since I can't go for my usual barefoot run on the beach here.

But given that I have nothing better to do, and the TV had let me down earlier, I may as well take advantage of this brief moment of calm to do something that I actually enjoy.

Making my way up onto the roof — via the lift this time because I'm in no particular rush and I've already more than surpassed my daily step count — I push the door open and step into the twilight.

As expected, the roof is empty.

The lights of the skyscrapers twinkle in the distance, the buzz of the traffic merely a faint drone at this height.

Making my way over to the eastern corner of the building, I park myself next to the edge...

...and wait for the sunrise.

At first, nothing happens. The dark of the night sits heavily over the island, seeming to muffle the normally inexhaustible energy of the City That Never Sleeps.

But slowly... ever so slowly, the sky begins to lighten. And the wind shifts. From the depths of the evening's humid, slightly stale breeze comes a fresh, easterly gust that carries the soft scent of the sea with it.

It whips over me, cutting through the thin material of my shirt. But I don't flinch. If anything, I lean into it, savouring the faint taste of salt on my skin.

The black of the horizon gives way to blue and then to grey as the rising sun pushes the darkness back. Spots of colour appear — gold, russet and magenta, framing the clouds like a backlight.

And as I watch, the first tendrils of brilliance start to creep over the buildings, setting the acres of glass on fire. The wind begins to warm, bringing with it the promise of tomorrow...

...until the sun finally bursts into view, scorching the Big Apple in the blaze of the new dawn.

I heave a deep breath of the crisp morning air.

This. This'd been worth staying up for.

The last vestiges of tension drain out of my shoulders as I simply stand, taking in the view...

...and realise that I can't remember the last time I stopped to just enjoy the moment. Be it a hot mug of coffee, or the breeze on my face. Let alone the silent beauty of a perfect sunrise.

I exhale heavily.

I've been so caught up planning every aspect of this trip — not to mention the details of the social season with Bast — that I haven't even had time to think about taking a break, let alone catching one.

It's probably why I—

"Couldn't sleep either?"

I scoff at the sound of the familiar — and not entirely unexpected — voice from behind me. "Nope."

"Jet lag still?" asks Chris, coming to stand next to me.

"Probably," I shrug, keeping my gaze turned towards the horizon. "You?"

He heaves a breath as he surveys the sunrise. "Bit of jet lag as well, I suppose..."

I glance over at him.

We both know that ain’t the whole truth. Just like neither of us are under any illusion that my answer hadn’t been completely honest either. But we've known each other long enough that neither of us feels the need to press the issue.

So, it goes unsaid that I'm fully aware of the fact that Chris' sleepless nights are caused by the looming spectre of the social season, which has been haunting him for the past year. And, with just one day to go, that spectre's about to transform into a living nightmare.

And there's nothing that either of us can do about it.

Because the die has been cast — by forces outside of our control — and both of us are now stuck on the proverbial highway to hell with no exit ramps in sight.

And I hate that feeling of helplessness. Not just on my part — though it grates on me no end that I can't save my brother from his predetermined fate — but on his part as well. Because even though Chris wears the mask of obligation like a second skin, he can't hide the fact that he's shitting a brick.

At least not from me.

Because despite all his years of diplomacy training, we've played enough poker together for me to know that behind that stoic façade, he's terrified. Terrified of the weight of his inherited duty, terrified of falling short of expectations, terrified of ending up on the same error-ridden path that his dad had trod.

But, most importantly, he's terrified of making the wrong choice. Because even though he knows each and every one of the suitors who'll be competing for his hand, that knowledge doesn't make things easier.

In fact, just the opposite.

Because regardless of what each woman brings to the table in terms of money, ability, or allegiances — a dizzying and convoluted cost-benefit calculation at the best of times — the fact remains that none of them are really in this competition for him. They're in it for the Crown. Which means each option's just as relative as the next. As none of the women actually care about Chris. They just want the title of Queen. Or rather, their families do. For the bragging rights.

Except maybe Livy. She's arguably the only suitor who's putting her name in the hat because she actually wants Chris for himself. And couldn't care less about the social promotion.

Too bad she's a class A bitch.

Not that any of that matters. Because the hunt for the next Queen isn't about love, or what people want, or any of the rest of that touchy-feely crap. It's about what's best for the kingdom...

...irrespective of what's best for Chris. Now, tomorrow, or twenty years down the line.

As he's just as much of a pawn — if not more so — as the women competing for his hand. And unlike Leo, he doesn't have the luxury of flipping the system the bird and calling bull on the whole fucked up exercise. Because there’s no one else to fall back on. It’s him, or nothing.

So, it's small wonder he's been burning the candle at both ends, trying to avoid being alone with the weight of his thoughts.

Hell, if I was him, I'd've disappeared down the neck of a bottle long ago.

As if reading my mind, Chris magics up a a pair of tumblers. "Here," he says, placing them down between us. "You look like you need it."

A scoff escapes me. "Didn't think they had a bar up here."

"Invitation only," he winks, unscrewing the cap of the 25-year old, single malt bottle of The Glenlivet that he's also brought with him.

"Comes well stocked, I see," I remark, watching him dole out a generous serving into each glass.

"Well, someone once told me to never cheap out on wallets, watches, or whiskey," he replies with a smirk, placing the bottle off to one side.

I shake my head with a scoff as I reach for my glass. "Yeah, 'cause the first holds your money, the second tells you the time... and the third'll help you forget about both."

"Truer words have never been spoken," grins Chris, raising his glass to clink it against mine.

"Dad knew a thing or two about life," I agree, throwing the scotch back on a suddenly constricted throat.

"He was a good man," nods Chris, taking a reciprocal sip of his drink.

"Yeah..." I say tightly, gazing out over the city without really seeing it. "He was."

Wonder what he'd think of Harper...

I give myself a mental slap. It doesn't fucking matter, you ass. That girl's history, just like Dad. No point getting hung up on—

"You know..." muses Chris, interrupting my self-flagellation. "We never got to see Times Square."

I snort caustically as I reach for the bottle again. "Because Besnard conspired with the weather to fuck us over..."

Chris quirks a brow as he holds his own glass out for a top-up. "I'm not certain it was entirely intentional..."

"You sure?" I counter with a sidelong look, refilling both tumblers. "'Cause I'd be damn hard pressed to find another dipshit on this planet who could've screwed up something so simple so spectacularly."

"Fair point," Chris concedes with a chuckle. "But, lucky for us, both Tariq and the malignant rain clouds are — rather thankfully — in the wind. So, what say we take advantage of the reprieve? Just the two of us?"

My hand stops mid-air. "You wanna sneak out? Again?"

He meets my eye with a knowing look. "May very well be our last chance before the start of the season..."

I shake my head dryly as I place the bottle back on the ledge. "Thought I was supposed to be the bad influence."

"Perhaps the student has finally surpassed the master," he replies, throwing me another wink as he raises his glass up in mock salute.

I can't help but scoff. "With that disappearing act, I'd say you've surpassed even your brother!"

"That may perhaps be a bit of a stretch," he chides. "As we cannot forget that it was my dear brother who once skipped out of a high-profile summit in Marrakech, commandeered a camel and a kaftan, and rode for six hours through the desert so he could watch the Dakar Rally."

"Yeah, that Lawrence of Arabia shit does set the bar quite high, doesn't it?"

"Leo has never been one to do things by halves..." Chris reminds me.

I heave a breath. "Don't I know it..."

Chris catches my gaze out of the corner of his eye. "Hope you weren't too harsh with him..."

I lift the tumbler to my mouth. "No comment."

"Christ! That bad, huh?"

"I may have questioned his sanity," I tell him sardonically.

"You certainly wouldn't have been the first," laughs Chris. "Father seriously considered sending him to a clinic in Switzerland when Leo told him of his plan to abdicate."

"Would've saved me a massive headache if he had..." I grumble.

"No... it was my fault," sighs Chris. "I should not have taken the device. I did promise that I would behave, and I reneged on my word."

I hold up a hand. "Hey. It's fine. I get why Leo gave it to you... and why you took it. Just... Don't get any ideas for the season. I'd prefer to keep my job... and my balls."

Chris laughs. "Duly noted. However, I would still like to take the opportunity to offset my regrettable faux pas... Perhaps with a traditional American breakfast?"

I cock a brow at him. "Do you even know what a traditional American breakfast is?"

"No," he admits. "But what better way to find out than in the company of a local?"

"Okay, fine," I concede, throwing the last of my scotch back. "But you better not skip out on me again..."

"You have my undying word," he says, laying a hand on his heart.

"Good," I say, pointing a finger at him. "'Cause this time, I'm gonna hold you to it." Softening my expression, I add, "But seriously. Glad you had a chance to escape. Christ knows you needed it."

"As do I," he says with a smile, picking up the bottle of scotch to head back across the roof. "So, thank you for pulling this getaway together. I'll treasure the memories — always."

"The trip ain't over yet, buddy," I remind him. "We still have three hours to kill before departure."

He grins back at me. "Then we best get to it, hadn't we, mate?"

The story continues in Chapter 12 - Hungover on You

A/N: As a quick bonus, here is a pic of Leo in the Moroccan desert 😇

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Sleepless in New York only

@bebepac

Picture Credits: Burger - Shirtless - Whiskey - New York

Drake, Christian and Leo were generated with the AI art app Wonder

#drake walker #sleepless in new york #the royal romance #trr au #new york #prince liam #Spotify

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