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#Back Bay Social
tg-headcanons · 10 months
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Sometimes I give men at the nightclub my number to make them think they’re getting laid but what they don’t know is that they signed up for my subscription service where I tell them everything about tokyo ghoul until they block me. You see I don’t respect them so I can rant as much as I want until they figure out they mean nothing to me
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p4nb3an · 9 months
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late night city patrols
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spicyprincezuko · 7 months
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I wish I could take my brain out and pressure wash all the gunk off
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bending-sickle · 12 days
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let’s rant
so we set the alarm for indoors when we go to bed which is basically the living room.
i’d forgotten something in the living room and it was just behind the door so i thought hey since the alarm setting is such a loud interminable beeping maybe i can just slip my hand in and fetch it.
the alarm went off.
i turned it off.
i reset it.
i went to bed.
a few minutes i get up to go to the bathroom for a sec and hear the phone ringing so i hurry to the living room—only i need to shut the alarm off. and i can’t see what button is the answer button because it’s dark. by the time i do, the ringing stops. then my cell phone goes off.
it’s my mom calling to yell at me that the alarm people called her to tell her the alarm went off. i explain the mistake. all 0.5 seconds of it, immediately rectified.
she keeps yelling at me.
why didn’t i answer her calls? my phone was in the living room. since when do you leave your phone in the living room?! since you’re not home and i don’t have to out my life away into my bedroom.
again telling me the alarm people called her and woke her up. said the alarm took a photo of me. (congrats! that should’ve made it clear exactly what had happened. that it was a mistake.)
she yells at me again and tells me to sleep with the door open so i’ll actually notice if the house burns down. how deep was i fucking sleeping not to hear the phone?!
and i keep saying it was a mistake. it was a simple mistake. i fixed it. it’s not like i’m the only one who has ever set the alarm off by accident.
and she keeps yelling at me. she was asleep! this woke her up! why am i keeping my phone in the living room? where was the thing i had forgotten?
and it’s just.
there was no reason to yell at me. no point. just to yell at me for ten minutes while i explained over and over how i slightly fucked up just a little bit by trying not to make so much noise by unsetting and resetting the alarm and now it’s this whole thing.
and that was fifteen minutes ago and i am still crying in the living room, alarm unset.
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t-is-for · 2 months
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sunderwight · 3 months
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Liushen AU where SY transmigrates into SJ's older brother, and subsequently nopes them right out of the slavery backstory by using his general knowledge of the story and actually being an adult in a kid's body to just leave (basically) with SJ and YQ.
SY carts them both up to Cang Qiong for the next sect trials. It's actually not all that hard, the trickiest part is getting enough to eat and finding safe places to sleep between leaving the slavers and taking the trials (SY manages just barely, with considerable help from his new little brothers.) Nobody bothers to go after them because it's before Qiu Jianluo and this style of human traffickers mostly operate by virtue of their merchandise having nowhere else to go. Chasing down runaways is an expense not worth indulging, given that most of them either come straight back or die of exposure.
Anyway, they take the trials, and as expected YQY gets chosen to become a personal disciple for the sect leader, and SJ gets chosen by the Qing Jing Peak Lord, but also as (kind of) expected (by SY alone) nobody wants SY. He's older the Yue Qi, so too old, and unlike YQ and SJ his cultivation potential isn't striking enough to make any exceptions for him.
SY, however, can't leave it at that. He's spent more than five minutes with the street kid codependency gang, so he's gotten attached to both of them. And he knows what will happen if they're left to their own devices and The Plot proceeds accordingly. (Also, they keep threatening to not stay at the sect if SY doesn't stay too, for some reason.) So with a heavy heart and internal candle lit for himself, SY heads to Bai Zhan Peak. Which is the only peak that accepts disciples by way of them turning up and refusing to leave.
SY's not much of a fighter. He actually really hates the atmosphere on BZP, he's not bad at physical cultivation (his health's pretty good in this life, ironic considering how much worse his situation was) but the random ambushes and survival-of-the-fittest stuff is just not his brand. But that's okay, because it turns out that BZP actually DESPERATELY needs disciples on the actual peak who are interested in things other than fighting and cultivating their own strength. Stuff like, filling out requisition requests for An Ding every time things break, apologizing to An Ding every time things break again, organizing schedules, browbeating senior disciples into actually teaching, educating disciples on virtually any artistic or social skill, hosting lectures on how to beat vicious beasts without just overpowering them, and etc.
Okay so some of this stuff isn't and has never actually been on Bai Zhan's curriculum but Shen Yuan is going to make this place tolerable. And stop these children from needlessly getting acid burns or lyme disease or scurvy or whatever. He keeps internally chewing out Airplane for designing a sect system that means there are a lot of largely unsupervised 12-year-olds running around the wilderness on a mountain picking fights all the time. (When he actually meets Shang Qinghua and figures him out he switches to doing it in person, of course, in twice-monthly bitching sessions that look a lot like budding friendship.)
Of course one of the worst offenders is the Liu kid, who SY would suspect was actually raised by wolves if he didn't know for a fact that Liu Qingge has a younger sister, and also the kinds of nice clothing and letters from home that strongly imply not only does he have a family, but that the family is pretty well-off. Liu Qingge is at first deeply offended by SY being a BZP disciple. He rarely fights anyone, and uses tricks and evasion tactics whenever a fight can't be avoided. And he does other annoying stuff, like pestering him about meals and baths and lecturing him on identifying dangerous plants and the early signs of qi deviation. This is not what their peak is about! He should get with the program already! Just fight stuff until you're too tired to keep fighting stuff!
Also SY's younger brother, SJ, is pure evil (at least according to baby Liu Qingge) even though his other younger brother (?) is cool and nice.
Anyway, Liu Qingge stops complaining about SY after their first mission together, where Liu Qingge doesn't lose a fight but does get into a kind of pyrrhic victory situation where he's really badly hurt, and it's SY who helps him win (correctly identifying the monster and then pointing out its weakness) and takes care of him afterwards and gets him safely back to Cang Qiong. SY expresses surprise at LQG actually being polite to him, and LQG realizes that he's been a colossal ass if people think he wouldn't be grateful to someone who saved his life, so the usual Liushen dynamic proceeds from there. Liu Qingge starts bringing SY fans he leaves behind and hunts down animals that are supposed to be useful for bolstering weak cultivation, SY invites LQG to tea and keeps the critters as pets, etc etc.
SY doesn't get the Head Disciple position, because that's only acquired via beating the current peak lord in combat and lol no. Also he's not interested in stealing it from Liu Qingge, to whom it rightfully belongs (in his mind). But that's fine, because Liu Qingge takes the position when the next generation ascends and then he lets SY exclusively handle all the peak duties SY actually likes (mainly teaching). It's perfect -- Liu Qingge gets to focus on his War God antics and occasional administration/meetings without having to deal with students his has no patience for, but the disciples of BZP don't get neglected because SY is actually teaching and organizing classes and student care. BZP hasn't enjoyed a golden age like this since it was founded!
Things are pretty good overall, but Shen Yuan knows that it's only a matter of time before The Plot shows up, and so he can't rest completely easily.
Meanwhile, the will-they-or-won't-they bets on Liushen have been going strong for a while now. The thing is, most of their martial siblings are convinced that these two are already "together", and just being circumspect about it. Those who know SY well (like SJ, YQY, and SQH) know better but think that SY's romantic obtuseness is to blame, whereas those who know LQG well (LMY, WQW, and MQF) are pretty sure that it's actually LQG's obtuseness that's the problem. Of course it's actually both of them, so efforts to "fix" matters by getting through one of their thick skulls inevitably run afoul of the other's.
An additional complication is of course: SJ doesn't like LQG (mutual), and now that he's the leader of his own peak, he wants to poach SY to come and live there. Not only so he can have one of the 2 people he trusts actually close at hand, but also because SJ also hates actually teaching the atrocious little brats on his peak, and would like to have SY come and do it for him. YQY is still a total pushover for him too, and is also now the sect leader, so YQY agrees that SY can change peaks if SY and LQG both agree to it.
Liu Qingge, of course, is a no, but he's a variable "no". He's not going to hold Shen Yuan against his will or anything.
As for Shen Yuan, it's... complicated. He doesn't really like BZP, but it's gotten a lot better than it was at the start. These days he's actually pretty proud of his accomplishments, and it's more comfortable, but it's still a rough and rowdy place with fewer creature comforts, libraries, or other appealing points than QJP. Also, if he goes to Qing Jing to teach, he can personally ensure that SJ doesn't go around persecuting any of his students!
But... SJ never lived with the Qiu family in this AU, and even though SY's not totally clear on what the PIDW backstory for SJ was, he knows he's a better guy now than the scum villain in the book was. He has a reputation for making cutting remarks, not for being an abusive snake or a lecher. SY's honestly less worried about him doing anything bad at all, and there are other people on QJP who can teach. It might even be good for SJ to promote more people to fill out a social circle he can rely on! That guy needs more friends, seriously.
And QJP really doesn't need more layabout literary intellectual types who get into pointless arguments, which is all SY would be if he went there. Just yet another nerdy scholar for the rich kids with middling cultivation that the peak favors to ignore. At least on BZP he's filling a gap.
SY is clearly torn, and the fact that SY's considering it has LQG upset, and LQG doesn't handle being upset very well, so of course they have an argument about it. SY storms off to cool his head and LQG is like, this is it, he's gone to Qing Jing Peak, I've drive him off by being too aggressive and he's probably remembering all those times I told him he didn't belong here and oh no what have I done maybe if I build him a heated bath and get him books he will come back???
Turns out that SY just went to An Ding to vent at SQH while SQH was like "I think you would have fewer problems if you and Liu Qingge just got married and my disciples could call you Shigu to your face instead of behind your back" and SY threw melon seeds at him and sulked on his fainting couch (which is always cold for some reason...)
Thus begins the Liushen Divorce Arc where SY tries to be anywhere but BZP or QJP, Liu Qingge tries to figure out what thing he can punch to fix this not-punchable problem, SJ is like "I don't see what the big deal is they should break up Liu Qingge is awful and I want my brother to teach my classes for me" like the spoiled youngest sibling he's finally allowed to be, YQY is trying to moderate this Hades vs Demeter situation and is all "well maybe SY could spend half the year on QJP and half on BZP?", and Liu Mingyan is going "I know my brother if this doesn't work out he is going to die single and pining like an idiot" and so keeps conscripting other disciples to y'know, lock SY and LQG into storage closets together (ineffective: LQG can punch through walls) or at least get them in the same room (underestimating SY's willingness to yeet himself out of windows to avoid awkward social interactions.)
By the time Luo Binghe joins the sect (as a Qiong Ding disciple), the drama is in full swing and is the main topic of gossip across most of the peaks.
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wonryllis · 26 days
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daddy issues, my little girl (m) | park jongseong.
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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹,
preview. you had always had daddy issues, for as long as you could remember. so when jay came along with his caring nature, how could you possibly keep your feelings at bay? not to forget, your roses of love have wilted long before you even knew what love meant but jay, he’s here at your doorstep with a watering can. will you be able to refuse?
or where, new neighbor dr jay park is asked to babysit you over the week. ironically the only man you have ever had a crush on. you are so determined to put aside the feelings but jay makes things so much harder. he is way too sweet and caring and you are way too pessimistic and insecure. how is it going to work with you gravitating towards him in inadvertence and jay welcoming your presence with candor radiance? especially with all of your buried issues coming to life more than ever. false hopes and reserved secrets, reluctant truths and feelings that linger deep. he is right there, two doors away to reach. so why is it that love still feels so far?
meet the cast. daddy park jongseong(jay) with his doll fem!reader
genre. neighbour to lovers, age gap (like 7 years), romance, SMUT MDNI!!, comfort angst, fluff, happy ending, doctor(might change that)!jay with his precious girl. jay literally always at his girl's beck and call, he cares about you a lottttt trope. the "i know you can do it, but let me do it for you" trope. kinda ddlg concept idk? he's like your pillar, comfort person and just everything you have ever needed. practically your dream man come to life. subject to additions later on.
word count. 18-19k so far, est around 35k revamp + second installment.
warnings. DARK THEMES: hints of: daddy issues, attachment anxiety, inferiority complex, abandonment issues, depression, childhood emotional neglect, philophobia, insomnia, social anxiety, hints at emotional/psychological abuse, gaslighting, hints at being suicidal, people pleaser syndrome, mommy issues, thantophobia, atelophobia, atychiphobia, pistanthrophobia, avoidant personality disorder, body dysmorphia. more could be added on release and nsfw warnings will be mentioned in full fic.
theme song. daddy issues by the neighborhood and future by red velvet. on the side you can listen to: love letter by bolbbalgan4, adore you by harry styles, pacify her by melanie martinez, cool kids by echosmith, your existence by wonstein, teenage dreams by katy perry ..
RELEASING. end of march'24
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"i’m home!” slipping off your converse, you put the pair inside the shoe cabinet near the entrance and close the wooden door in a sigh before trudging in. the lights in the living room are dimmed, something your parents would never do. it catches you a tad bit off guard but nevertheless you try not to think too much. considering the silence surrounding you they most definitely are out for work and as usual forgot to turn off the lights. with cautious steps you walk futher inside, with all intention to sneak in a pack of chips from the kitchen like a thief even though at this point you’ve practically come to the conclusion you’re home alone, but one can never be too careful.
a cat like shriek leaves you when your eyes land on the back of a figure sitting on the couch, your phone almost slipping through the grasp of your fingers as your eyes widen in shock. startled, your heart more or less stopping in a screeching brake for a split second.
the man visibly flinches at the sound of your voice,“who are you?!-” standing up and turning around to face you,“jay?”
“god y/n, you’re gonna make me deaf,” he complains, face contorting into a tender, teasing expression; a small smile gracing his lips as he walks around the couch and leans against the top of the backrest. you watch as he looks at you, so softly that it makes you wonder, has anyone ever in your entire life looked at you like that? a look radiating such gentleness. maybe not, not until now that is.
“you got home early today, i thought you’d be out for two more hours?” his brows raise in a questioning manner as his gaze shifts to go over the time showing on your living room clock.
“uh, well i was working on a project the last few days but i finished it yesterday so,” you speak unsure if you should even be telling him this instead of asking what he’s doing in here.
“oh okay, that’s good,” taking off his overcoat he walks into the kitchen, folding up his dress shirt’s sleeves on the way,“what do you want for lunch then? do you want to eat takeout? or should i cook you something? you must be hungry,” he takes out a bottle of cold water from the fridge and pours in a glass for you, sliding the cup on the countertop towards you as you approach the space in hesitant and confused steps.
his questions dumbfound you, leaving your brain at a loss, still dazed from his presence before you,“what? why are you asking me that? and what are you doing in my house?” you ask, looking completely clueless when jay turns to look at you expecting it to be some kind of a sarcastic remark. but the lost look in your eyes has him surrendering even if it does turn out to be some joke.
“taking care of you,” jay smiles, straightening his posture in an upright position and moving closer to the counter across which you stand,“technically, babysitting,”
“babysitting? me? but,” it baffles you, is this some prank or are you supposed to know something you don’t? your mind’s mechanical gears slow down, friction arising in between them. you don’t remember anything regarding or relating to the term babysitting. there’s no way he’s serious.. right?
“doll, didn’t your parents tell you they’re gonna be out on a business trip for a week? they asked me to look after you while they’re gone,” what.
yes these past few days when you couldn’t catch a hidden, one-sided glimpse of him in the elevator you did feel weird. and you definitely did subconsciously wish to run across him again, even though you were on a mission to avoid him, but this; this is not what you would’ve liked, this is not what you wanted. this is far from what you can handle, what your messed up self can accept.
“no?” the look on your face has jay almost spilling a laugh, the way your features contort to a whiny crying expression. how cute. he thinks.
“that’s okay, now you know,” trying to imitate you, he scrushes up his nose in a slight pout, reaching out to pat your head twice. and there goes your heart. you never thought you’d like head pats this much, you only remember getting them twice from your father but it felt different. it used to annoy you because he would mess up your hair but the way jay caressed your head it felt you had accomplished something, so gentle and careful yet still close to a ruffle.
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taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @lheebra @boyfhee @defnotfertilizedtoesw @brownsugarbaybee @skylaly @sparklovespink @luvyouchuu @ming-h0e @cha0thicpisces @butterflywonie @kgneptun @haechansbbg @m3chigo @wonsbaer @woncine @eneiyri @siyen @wonyoungsvirus @heesquared @enhafim22 @velvtcherie @ineedsomezzz @simjyunnie @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @wonkifangirl @sweetwonieee @luvnicho @fakeuwus @sunpov @notevenheretbh1 @kaykay11sworld @saurxcream @shawnyle @monstaxdirtywonk @wannieepisod @woozixo @sophi-ee @rikiwaify-blog @fluerz @iselltulips @belowbun @yunjinsbbg @enhasnuggles @enhaswirlds @enhastolemyheart @jooniesbears-blog
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earthtooz · 1 year
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ik ur in ur reo phase BUT HEAR ME OUT EARTH ONLY YOU CAN DO THIS
rin ACCIDENTALLY publicizing ur relationship bec mf got jealous as hell when ur face appeared in the kiss cam IN HIS GAME??????? WITH A RANDOM GUY AND WAS HE FUMING??? YOU AND I KNOW HE WAS THROWIN HANDS
thats all
I'M HEARING YOU OUT. warning for unrealistic scenario, i wrote this in like 20 minutes so it's unedited :p apologies for any mistakes.
imagine being rin's secret partner, the one he keeps behind closed doors because he values you too much to let the invasive eyes of the internet see. he values your relationship too much to let it get tarnished by social media, so he hides any affiliation with you like his life depends on it, only to come home and shower you with the adoration and affection he wishes he could show to the rest of the world.
in the spotlight, he is itoshi rin, japan's prized striker, their golden player, but when he's out of the spotlight, he is your lover. the man who drapes himself over you when things get too rough and he needs a breather. he is yours to cherish, where you have to change your phone wallpaper every other week because there's so many good photos of you two. he is yours to love, he is yours to go to when you feel too lonely, he is yours.
but also imagine, itoshi rin's jealousy and possessiveness no longer being able to rest at bay. it'd been accumulating for the past few weeks, this desire to show you off and boast that it's him who gets to know you like no other.
then the cup overfills, his jealousy tearing him by the seams that he loosely stitched together to withhold this carnal beast resting within him.
all because of a damn kiss cam.
you had been sitting in the vip section of the stadium- where special members are granted tickets, and even though you tell rin that it's fine for you to just sit in the general area, he refuses and tells you that he's bought you the ticket anyway. leaving you with no room for arguments. well. not that there was any to begin with.
anyways, you'd just so happen to sit next to someone who bought vip tickets with no affiliation with any blue lock members. you think he's just a die hard fan, so when he asks you if you like them, you lie and say that you won these tickets at a raffle.
the guy wasn't the most favourable person ever, in fact, you found yourself awkwardly responding to what he was saying, sometimes giving him short and succinct replies because of how... weird... he was. not to be disrespectful but you did not like his vibes. you just hope these 90 minutes can be over quickly.
yeah well, how funny is it that the kiss cam lands on you and the insufferable guy beside you?
you're mortified when you see it on the screen but the person beside you doesn't warrant the same reaction. immediately, he turns to face you, anticipation heavy on his features. in fact, he looks rather... excited...
"no, no, i have a boyfriend, i-" you begin abruptly as he leans in and you have no choice but to helplessly lean back, evading his lips and delaying it as much as you can. you even try rejecting him by frantically waving your hands, panicked and unsure of what to do.
until you hear him.
"back. the. fuck. off!" comes a shout from the pitch; the voice very familiar to your ears that you can't help but instantly relax from hearing it.
your seat was relatively close to the field which meant that those around you could hear the distinct voice of itoshi rin ripping through the air, fury evident and baring its fangs as he all but punches the barrier with each word.
however, everyone in the stadium could see itoshi rin as all cameras pan to him, witnessing his wrath as he shouts from the top of his voice. everyone around you is silent and you don't know whether you want to shrivel up into the ground or run to him and embrace him as tightly as you can. to find sanctuary in his warmth, away from the pushy guy who can't wrap his head around the idea that no means no.
itoshi rin decides for you, effortlessly jumping over the (considerably high???) barrier and making a beeline for you, skipping some stairs. thank goodness for a side seat because he comes to a stop before you, adrenaline still coursing through his veins as he looks at you with heated passion, huffing and puffing.
"rin?" you whisper. he doesn't hear it, looking up at the various stadium screens to see if the kiss cams were still on you. smirking in satisfaction when he realises they are, rin all but pulls you up from your seat and kisses you with so much intensity and fervour that you feel lightheaded. very much so.
the stadium is cheering but you can't focus on it, not when rin's holding you to him so closely, practically trying to meld you to him. not even trying to push him away is enough to snap him out of whatever primal instinct has taken over him, so you grab his face and jerk away from him, not wanting to get too carried away.
before you can utter a word, rin looks behind you, and the coldness in his expression says everything you need to know.
he doesn’t care about dignity at this point. he just needed the world to know that you were his.
"you're dead if you try that again, you lukewarm fuckface," he then turns to you. you shiver from the intensity of his gaze. "i'll kill him next time," he promises before hugging you close to him once again, practically glaring at the cameras. "i'll kill anyone who tries to get to close."
THANK YOU FOR THIS ANON would u believe me if i said i'd been waiting for an opportunity like this? well i'm speaking the truth and i'm so glad u gave me the opportunity i've been waiting for AYEEEEEEE COME BACK ANY TIME YOU ARE SO WELCOME ON THE EARTHTOOZ BLOG, PRETTY <33
© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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ifothersonlyknew · 1 year
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Back Bay Social Club
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astonmartinii · 4 months
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hi!! i really love your blog: i usually stay silent and only like the posts but i thought today should be the day i request something!
would you be open to write a social media au with lando Norris x y/n where the reader is a marine biologist? or a surfer? or something ocean-related lmao
feel free to disregard this request if you don’t like it or don’t have time!! xx
just add water | lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x fem reader
first fish ruined his appetite, now they steal his girlfriend?
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 103,451 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: perks of the job but back on shore i clock in to my full time job of missing lando
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user1: can we have the hair routine cause miss ma'am is in the sea every damn day and her hair is still healthier than mine
user2: REAL
landonorris: f1 is just my day job, talking about you is my passion and career
yourusername: babe even the whales in monterey bay know about you
landonorris: they better be mclaren fans
yourusername: eh i think i heard super max (whale edition) the other day
maxverstappen1: conquered all of f1 and the seven seas so real of me
landonorris: THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE SAYING THE RISING OCEAN TEMPERATURES ARE FRYING THEIR BRAINS
yourusername: babe don't joke about that :(
landonorris: sorry :(
oscarpiastri: can you please come to the next race i may put my head through a wall if i have to watch this man go through his camera roll again RETELLING me all of the stories
yourusername: didn't realise we were so annoying 🧐
oscarpiastri: don't get me wrong you guys are cute but sometimes i wanna nap after practice in peace and not hear about whale shit
landonorris: i SEE HOW IT IS
alexalbon: no oscar is right i've heard about when had a baby seal on her surfboard about seven billion times
yourusername: HEY that was cute
user3: okay but lando could talk to ME about y/n's adventures
user4: i want to hear ALL of it for real
user5: lando and y/n podcast when?
alexalbon: do not give them ideas they’re already number one and two yappers in the international waffling championship
yourusername: yapper and proud 😤
landonorris: healthy relationship communications and boundaries? no. yappers? yes!
alexalbon: has anyone ever told you guys you’re annoying?
yourusername: yes 😃
user6: they’re so annoying i love them
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landonorris
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,209,451 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris: does this girl own a pair of trousers? real question.
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user8: i actually don't think i've ever seen a man this down bad
user9: ALL men should aspire to be this whipped
yourusername: i wish you would join the no trouser revolution, give the girlies something to look at
user10: i agree
yourusername: okay back up babe that ass is all mine
landonorris: it's okay babe you can admire your (my) ass all the time if you come home PLS
yourusername: sorry babe the ocean doesn't sleep and the whales need me
landonorris: but i need you too :(
maxverstappen1: WAH WAH I'M SICK OF YOUR FUCKING WHINING
alexalbon: THANK YOU FINALLY
landonorris: erm why am i being victimised in my own comment section
maxverstappen1: you are doing my fucking nut in mate yeha i get you miss her but kinda your fault for having a cool gf with a cool job
yourusername: omg thanks 😊
landonorris: Y/N???
yourusername: babe no offence but he's a three time world champ i'm gonna take the compliment
landonorris: i guess so :(
user10: just one normal comment section, please that is all i ask for
oscarpiastri: maybe i should get on this whole j.peg business cause my photography is doing some heavy lifting here
yourusername: i didn't take you for a stunt queen miss rookie
landonorris: where is the peace, love and positivity ?? you guys are such haters
oscarpiastri: proudly
yourusername: no cool shells for you mr piastri
oscarpiastri: I TAKE IT BACK
landonorris: you people are such flip flops
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yourusername
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liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and 112,872 others
yourusername: i promise we do actually do work
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user14: why am i now considering a marine biology degree for a sick ass instagram feed
user15: and protecting the sanctity of ocean life?
user14: yeah sure throw that in there too?
landonorris: i hope you slapped the FUCK out of that stingray for steve irwin
yourusername: babe we all know violence is not the answer
landonorris: you said you'd break the knee caps of any driver that took me out?
yourusername: i do not recall this
landonorris: steve irwin is a national treasure, you should've done it for oscar
oscarpiastri: i'm sure it wasn't that exact stingray mate
landonorris: you don't know that
danielricciardo: i see you've forgotten about the other aussie you were teammates with ???
yourusername: i wouldn't have that if i were you daniel
landonorris: y/n??? you're meant to be on my side
yourusername: say sorry to larry and maybe i'll gang up on daniel with you
danielricciardo: Y/N???
landonorris: i'm sorry larry ... and daniel i guess ?
danielricciardo: if my hand weren't broken right now...
user16: okay i think lando is having y/n withdrawals
yourusername: his bitchiness is a symptom of separation anxiety
landonorris: sorry not sorry
user17: mclaren pr praying for y/n to come to a race soon
maxverstappen1: p says pretty please can she bagsy the pink shells?
yourusername: most definitely she can !! i'll even be on the look out for more
maxverstappen1: thank you y/n you're my favourite - p
yourusername: that's it i'm coming home rn
landonorris: am i a joke to you?
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landonorris
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,322,099 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris: reunited and it feels so good oh and a double podium, pretty sweet
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user21: obsessed with how lando said that y/n is clearly his lucky charm and the "dumbass" ocean won't be getting his girlfriend back
user22: there's levels to hating and lando's level of hating on the ocean??
user23: his hatred of fish makes so much more sense right now
user24: either he hates anything to do with the ocean or y/n convinced him they deserve to live 😭
landonorris: i'll say it's number one but realistically it's two greatly helped by the fact that it tastes gross anyway
yourusername: I'M SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU
landonorris: i know hhehehehehehehe
yourusername: i love you stupid
landonorris: i love you too dummy
yourusername: as much as i enjoyed this race i am ready for home time (after karaoke, you promised me karaoke with yuki)
landonorris: AHAHAHAAH TAKE THAT OCEAN Y/N COMING HOME
alexalbon: bro has beef with the ocean 😭
georgerussell63: bro had to share his gf with WATER 😭
maxverstappen1: bro is being ... torn apart here KEEP GOING LOL
oscarpiastri: no keep going cause i just want a nap before debrief and some people are being WAY TOO LOUD
carlossainz55: i think that's probably why you guys are getting away with bullying the little goblin
user25: oscar out here just confirming that lando and y/n are ... for lack of a better word up to no good?
user26: y/n didn't lie when she called him a stunt queen
landonorris: i can't hear y'all LALALALALALA
yourusername: they hate us because they ain't us
landonorris: period 💅
user27: i hate (love) them your honour
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yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 419,034 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: so he had the whole proposal planned out but got a bit too excited at suzuka ... if anyone asks we got engaged on a boat in the mediterranean not in his driver's room. aside from that, HOLY FUCK I AM ENGAGED TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE I LOVE YOU LANDO I CAN'T WAIT FOR FOREVER
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user30: HOLY 😭 FUCKING 😭 SHIT 😭
landonorris: can we agree on no more like three month placements pretty please?
yourusername: baby the whales need me
landonorris: i need you more FIANCE :(
yourusername: gosh you are convincing, no more retreats for more than a month
landonorris: yay !!
yourusername: you need to put up more shelves for our shells though
landonorris: on it, i love you (i'm calling my dad to do it)
yourusername: i love you too baby
danielricciardo: enchante tease on the engagement post and for free ??? love you two
yourusername: at least you have the prettiest model ever for it
landonorris: I'M BLUSHING
danielricciardo: i'll deal with this because i'm happy for you two
mclarenf1: double podium and an engagement, suzuka really delivered this year
oscarpiastri: i guess i take back my comments about being loud in the drivers room... i'm so happy for you guys you deserve it
landonorris: ahaha i knew you were a softy really pastry boy
yourusername: i always knew you loved us really oscar, you're just sassy and we respect that
landonorris: .... sure
maxverstappen1: did he propose at sea in one final power move over his arch nemesis the ocean?
yourusername: have you considered he did it at sea because i'm a marine biologist and i love it out there and he loves me?
maxverstappen1: well now i look like an asshole
landonorris: the sea 0 - 1 lando
yourusername: lando 😭
user31: well this has all been a rollercoaster
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fin.
note: i've been kinda mia on here and i'm super sorry this request has taken so long lol. wanted to get this out now though cause lando had a horrid day today but i'm glad he's okay !! enjoy, i'm in my second week of a job so might get less busy xx
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footygirl114 · 1 month
Text
Operation (Leah Williamson x Reader)
This is definitely a result of too much Grey's anatomy but I was told that I need to let some of the ideas out of my noggin so here you go? (I think). Also I could be persuaded into this becoming a series...
Your pager going off interrupted the scrolling of TikTok you were doing while enjoying your morning coffee, after rounding on your patients. You glanced at the screen and noticed it was a 911 to the ER for an incoming Trauma. Kicking yourself into gear you moved and started to make your way down, the whole time kicking yourself for jinxing your pager since you were hoping to catch the Arsenal vs. Manchester United Game at the Emirates on TV during your shift. 
Knowing that wasn’t going to happen as you walked into the ER and it was organised chaos. You walked towards the head of the ER and asked “what happened?” 
He turns to you and says “A car jumped a curb at the Emirates stadium before the game, ran into a few pedestrians including an 8 year old and her dad. We have the driver, a 43 year old male, and the two victims on route now.” 
“damn it, how bad?” you ask him as you move to pull your hair back, and put on a trauma gown and gloves. 
“the dad, is in critical condition, they say he was able to get the girl out of the way but she sustained injuries when he shoved her out of the way.” He says as you walk with him to the ambulance bay waiting for the incoming ambulances. 
As you wait for the ambulance you listen to the other doctors conferring over what they think the driver was on, but you take the second to glance at your phone and double check the texts with your fiancé. They state that she was there an hour prior to this happening, and knowing the teams timing you knew she was on the field for warm up. 
When they finally pull up you wait to find out what one your patient is in. Once you know where the child is you step up and move beside her gurney listening as the paramedics rattle off her name and vitals. She meets your eyes and you can see how scared she is and you say to her softly “Hi Kenzie, I’m Dr. Y/L/N, and I am going to be taking care of you.”
She’s shaking as she asks “where’s my dad?” 
“Sweetie, he’s being taken care of by some of my very good friends, You and I are going to get you checked out so you can be ready for him okay?” you tell her as you move your hand to tuck a loose piece of her hair behind her ear checking her pupils as you do this. 
When she nods, you move to grasp her hand as you gesture for the team to get her gurney moving. You had waited so they could get her father inside so she wouldn’t have to see him too injured. Once you get her into a room and transferred onto a gurney you start your exam on her. 
She’s stays silent as you explain what you are doing, you tell her that you specialise in helping kids who have been injured or sick, and when you press on her belly and he’s hisses and pulls away in pain you know she may have some internal injuries. 
Once you determine she’s stable and waiting for scans you go to move away from her but she grabs your hand and says “don’t go.” 
You turn and squeeze her hand back and says “i am just going to check on your dad and then I will be right back, I promise.” 
She shakes her head and holds up her other hand, leaving her pinky up as she asks softly “pinky promise?” 
You smile at her and wrap your pinky around hers and say “I pinky promise sweetie.” 
She lets go of both of your hands and you move outside the door, watching as your favourite ER nurse immediately steps in and starts talking to the patient, keeping her distracted, you walk out of the room and the last thing you hear is them talking about the arsenal team. You smile to yourself knowing that she will be okay for a few minutes. 
You take the time to order scans for her, and check on her dad, you also manage to talk to someone from social services who is looking for her next of kin, but they are having no luck since her fathers License is from Ireland, you know it will take some time for anyone to get over here. 
Walking back into her room you smile at her and say “Hi Kenzie, I am going to take you upstairs now.” 
She meets your eyes and asks “how is my dad?” 
Moving back towards her you sit down on the edge the bed by her legs and say “he’s been taken into surgery, by those friends of mine. He’s getting the best care possible and they will do everything they can to help him.” 
She starts to cry and you move to grasp her hand and she says “I want my daddy.” 
It breaks your heart and you move closer and pull her into a hug softly whispering “it’s okay sweetie, let it out.” 
After a few moments of letting her cry she’s sniffles and pulls back and says “I’m okay, I can be a big girl.” 
You smile and wipe under her eyes and you say “you are strong sweetie, now lets go get some scans of your belly and then we can get you fixed up to be ready for your dad okay?” She nods and you gesture to the nurse to get her ready for transport upstairs for scans then into the paediatric floor. 
**
Less than an hour later, you walk into her room on your floor. You were one of the attending surgeons on the paediatric floor. “Hi sweetie” you tell her as you walk into the room when she turns and smiles softly at you, you continue “They called your grandma, and she should be here tomorrow.” 
“Grandma is old and cant move fast” she chuckles at you. 
“Well she does have to fly over her, like you and your dad did sweetie. Why were you over here?” you as her as you fiddle with her IV. 
She gasps and says “the game! I missed the game.” 
“The arsenal one? Were you guys over here to watch it?” you ask her. 
“It was my first game, daddy saved up and finally was able to bring me over to watch my favourite team play. Did I miss it? Can I still go watch?” she asks you with wide eyes pleading. 
You sit beside her hip on her bed and say softly “sweetie, your scans came back and I need to go in and fix your belly, we are going to do it now.” 
“So i wont get to see the game?” she pouts. 
You smile sadly and hold up your pinky and ask “I pinky promise when we’re done, I will come and watch the full game with you right here.” 
She smiles and wraps her pinky around yours and says “deal.” 
Before you can say anything more the surgical team walks in and you know its time to go, You turn to her and say “We’re going to take you in and put you to sleep and when you wake up we will get to watch Arsenal kick butt okay?” 
She nods and says “okay.” 
You follow the surgical team push her towards the OR, you help them transfer Kenzie over and you stay with her until she’s out. You move into the scrub room and pull out your phone, texting Leah like you did before every surgery, and told her that you would be in the OR and will update when you are done. 
**
Almost 6 hours later you were sat beside Kenzie’s bedside, it was dark and quiet and you were not expecting her to be awake anytime soon but you wanted to be here when she did. It had started to get late and when your phone buzzed you knew it would be Leah. You saw it was and you turned and looked out into the quiet hallway and decided to take the phone call there. 
You had been with Leah for almost 5 years, and it was the best 5 years of your life. You had been still a resident and Leah was gaining popularity and you both decided that you wanted to keep your relationship quieter. Leah was worried that some of her more enthusiastic fans would attempt to contact you through the hospital and she wanted to make sure that you were safe. 
It was sweet and when the opportunity came up to be an attending at this hospital in the middle of London you jumped at the chance to be close to your fiancé. You had been at this hospital for 6 weeks and as far as you knew, no one was the wiser to if you were single or in a relationship. Which is why you would make sure no one was around before you answered a phone call from her. 
“Hi babe” you greeted her when you picked up the phone call. 
“Hi love, are you still working?” she asks with a chuckle. 
“I am, I’m gonna stay here tonight actually.” you tell her with a soft smile, eyes on the sleeping form of Kenzie in front of you. 
You can hear her moving and she says “Are you going to be in surgery all night?” 
“no actually, this patient came in and I operated on her” you tell her softly. “She’s 8 and was here with her dad to watch your game, but she was hit by a car on the way to the stadium.” 
“Oh, love, is she okay?” she asks softly. Your heart grows three times the size as she just immediately understands why you need to be here and why you cannot leave her.
You pause on answering when Kenzie moves in front of you, but when she settles you say softly to Leah “she’s all alone Lee and I promised to watch the game with her when she wakes up.” 
“You’re amazing and I love you” she says “and I will miss you tonight.” 
“I miss you too babe” you tell her with a soft smile.
You listen as she moves around and it sounds like she’s gotten into bed and she asks “can you stay on the line with me while I fall asleep?” 
Smiling you move and adjust the chair so you are reclining as you softly ask “Do you have training tomorrow?” 
“No.”
“Good, I will definitely be home tomorrow babe” you say softly. 
“Mhmm I want you here” she sleepy says. 
You stay on the line listening to her breathe evening out and you smile to your self, thinking about how much you love this woman. “Sleep tight babe, I love you.” you whisper when you hear her softly snoring you hang up the phone. Turning in the chair to settle into a light sleep. 
**
It’s early in the morning when you hear Kenzie moving around in her bed in front of you. You open your eyes to see her eyes open looking around. You wait to see if she will fall back asleep but when her eyes lock on yours you says “Hi sweetie.” 
“hi” she whispers. 
You move to stand up and check her vitals and move your hand to check her incision site and you ask her “how are you feeling?” 
“Tired” she answers softly. 
“do you want to go back to sleep?” you ask her, and move your hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. 
She shakes her head and says “Can we watch the game now?” 
You chuckle and tell her “yeah? lets watch.” 
You move the table over the end of the bed to be closer and you pull out your phone and find the recording of the game. You always set Leah’s games that you miss to be recorded so you can watch them back. You pull the chair closer and you set the phone up so you both can see. The first 15 minutes are quiet but when Arsenal scores one she gets excited and sits up more. 
After the third goal she’s more animated and is excitedly talking about the game and the players. The game has made her feel a lot better and more like a little girl and you are happy that she seems to be doing better. 
You are lost in thought watching when she says “holy crap thats Leah Williamson.” 
You chuckle without taking your eyes off the screen and say “sweetie she’s been on the whole game.” 
“No, she’s right there!” she shouts. 
You turn and meet the eyes of your fiancé standing in the doorway of the hospital room with two coffees, she winks at you and says “I heard we had a fan here that wasn’t able to make it to the game.” 
You pause the game and move to stand up and step closer to Leah and you say “this is Kenzie.” 
“Hi Kenzie” Leah says and she hands you a coffee and brushes by you to stand beside the bed “are you watching the game back?” 
“yeah, I missed it cause Dr. Y/N was operating on my belly.” Kenzie says, the smile bright on her face. 
“she’s pretty Awesome” Leah says and then continues “Can I watch the rest with you?” 
“Yes please!” Kenzie answers quickly with an excited smile. 
“I guess you don’t need me anymore” you say with a chuckle. 
Leah smirks at you and says “Sorry love.” 
“It’s okay, you guys enjoy I am going to shower and change.” you tell them both. “Kenzie please make sure to ask Leah all the questions okay?” 
“I will! She’s my favourite player.” Kenzie says with a smile and moves to press play on the TV as she says to Leah “What did the ref say to you there?” 
You chuckle to yourself and move outside the room, and you stand on the outside of the window looking in and you feel your heart grow again watching as Leah and Kenzie both talk with their hands about the game and you can feel the smile growing on your face knowing it may be time to have a conversation with Leah about what you want next. 
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077-vikkus · 10 months
Text
Just thinking of Villain! Reader who is going about their business and doing cool shit when they unknowingly steal Batman's sidekicks/sons from him.
Reader: *casually does a series of backflips and aerobatics that seem impossible*
Dick: (✨o✨)
Bruce: -_-
Or maybe Reader is just very sassy and is just genuinely better than Bruce so Jason vibes with them to piss Bruce off.
Bruce: come home.
Jason: *currently beating the crap out of some guys who insulted his nails, which Reader did for him* can't, doing hot girl shit.
Maybe Tim and Reader go to the same 24/7 corner shop and give suggestions on food and tips on how to stay awake.
Reader: *slaps the cheap ramen out of Tim's hand, only to hand him a slightly more expensive but definitely better quality one* no need to thank me.
Tim: *overworked and overwhelmed by social interaction, spitting out the first thing to come to him* 32 energy drinks can keep you awake for four days, may kill you but to combat this, dunk your head in icy water every few hours.
Reader:... thanks?
I'm also just thinking of Damian wanting to fight Reader but being so short that Reader can keep him at bay by keeping a hand on his head.
Damian: *is currently being held up by the scruff of his neck, like an unruly cat* unhand me, barbarian! So that I can defeat you and claim my victory!
Reader: whose angry Chihuahua is this
All in all, I'd like to think that Villain! Reader has a line if bat kids following them like ducklings everywhere. Reader is just trying to hand them back off to Bruce but they keep on popping back. It gets worse if Bruce and Reader have something on or if there's tension, cuz then the bat kids are playing matchmaker and not all of them approve of Bruce x Y/N...
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^live footage of the bat kids when they find Reader.
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thefandomthings · 6 days
Note
5 fluff zuko
𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬
Fluff prompt #5: "I have to go but-one more kiss."
Pairing: Zuko x f!reader
Warnings: Fluff, kissing, slight angst, Zuko being Zuko. ¡¡SPOILERS!!
Notes: Bluntest request I have ever gotten (It's from my sister 😶). Takes place in Book 3. Ep 14. @shelbsbellsinhell
Prompt event
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To say you aren't happy that Zuko and Katara decided to go on a 'Revenge mission', is an understatement. You aren't close with Katara, never have been. On two different ends of the spectrum. You both maintain a respectable relationship between each other, BUT that doesn't mean you like one another.
Zuko is completely aware of this. Having this conversation with him multiple times about how she looks at him, or what happened under Bai Sing Sei. But as you know, he isn't to great at reading people and how they are feeling. And it doesn't help that he is the one who suggested it, stings like alcohol on a open wound.
You are currently sitting against one of the dock posts, watching as Katara and Zuko get Appa ready to fly. The nasty look on your face is extremely noticable, Sokka and Aang are both looking at each then between the three of you.
Zuko finishes strapping a few things on Appas saddle and slides down the fluffy sky bison. He might not be the best at reading social cues but he can tell just by the way your eyes burn into his soul, you are pissed and hurt.
He cautiously approaches you and slides down the post next to you, his left arm resting on his knee, his right hand playing with the grass and dirt; picking and prodding.
You don't look at him, your eyebrows are furrowed in anger, you mouth set in scowl. Zuko carefully puts his arm around your shoulders. You don't push him away, but you don't lean into him like you usually do.
"Did you really have to suggest going with her?" You finally spoke, turning your head to look at him. Zuko has a frown on his face as he looks back at you, honey eyes soft and determined.
"She needs closure, Y/n. And Sokka and Aang won't go with her, so I have to." His right hand slides into your own, squeezing it softly. You know he is right, after all he's been through he just wants to make peace with the Gaang, especially Katara.
You sigh finally leaning into his side, your head resting on his shoulder. Zukos' pale cheeks burn pink, his arm squeezing you closer. He leans down and kisses you softly, his dry lips molding with yours before he pulls away.
"Zuko, let's go." Katara hollers from her spot on Appas neck/head. Zuko sighs and stands up, looking down at you with a soft smile.
"We'll be back soon, okay?" He ruffles your hair gently and starts to walk away. You smile slightly, already missing him even if he isn't gone yet.
Zuko then pauses a few feet away and you watch him curiously. He turns on his heel and speed walks back to you. Zuko leans down holding your chin with his forefinger and thumb.
"I have to go but-one more kiss." He presses his lips to yours longer, taking the breath from your lungs. "For good luck."
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sunnys-out · 2 months
Text
Alexia, mi reinita, mi amor, mi todo | Alexia Putellas x Reader
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A/N: Not me wanting to get this out still on Alexia's birthday like I'm turning an essay in at midnight. Ok honestly I would write a part two of this but that's only if people are interested. Again requests are closed for now.
So it's a little angsty, has a little hurt/comfort (I know this woman gives the best hugs let's be real), and some Alexia fluff.
Based on this prompt list: #4, #20
Warnings: Anxiety/panic attack symptoms
WC: 1860
Alexia had resolved it in herself that she would use whatever leverage she had to have you stay at Barcelona. She was not the type to use that card…she was not that kind of player…the type to threaten to leave to get what she wanted, but the thing she wanted was you. She had tried to speak with some of the staff about it but they were “conveniently busy”. With no success, she texts you “Voy a casa, te veo pronto, amor” (I’m going home, I’ll see you soon, love)  before driving over to your shared home.
Barcelona was dragging their feet with regards to your contract of whether you would be renewed or be traded to some other club, some other league, some other country. You had spent 4 years dedicated to Barcelona and had earned your spot in the midfield. The statistics you pulled throughout your career there were phenomenal, the kind that made your girlfriend proud to see because she was there from the beginning. So why was Barcelona playing a cat and mouse game with your livelihood?
______________________________________________________________
“Alexia, mi Reinita, mi amor, mi todo (my little queen, my love, my everything),
You know that I am better with my words written on paper than spoken to you. You still make me nervous when I look at you; I still blush as quickly as I did when we first met. I write this to you because I’m going to America to Bay FC…the deal has been done and the announcements will be out in a couple of weeks, but I wanted you to be the first to know. 
______________________________________________________________
The amount of times that Alexia had found you at that kitchen table with your head covered by your arms crying out your frustrations at another deal that went nowhere. She would never say a word and just quietly wrapped her arms around you and kissed the back of your head before laying hers on it. Once the crying stopped her hand would gently rub your back until eventually you began to move and pulled her into a hug with your head at her abdomen with a quick whisper of “let’s go to sleep”. Her only words would be “of course, cariño (dear)”.
______________________________________________________________
I know how you are mi amor (my love) but fighting the club is not worth it. It is hard to swallow the reality that the club that I grew up watching, grew up to play in, does not carry the same love and dedication I had for them…for me. You were one of the first people I met 4 years ago when I transferred from my club team in Mexico. It was a big move and you were there to just welcome me in, you knew immediately that I did not take change very well and was uncomfortable with everything. 
______________________________________________________________
Alexia, at some point, blocked some sports news outlets on your social media because of how overwhelming the “(y/n) Transfer Rumor” posts were getting for you. You did not want to leave Barcelona, you had made a home there with Alexia and the thought of leaving all of what you had terrified you. 
You could already hear the comments from the “fans” questioning your loyalty, why you couldn’t just confirm that you would be staying at Barça or leaving the team all together, why you were silent on the rumors? Alexia would be there with her head on your shoulder quietly holding you in the kitchen quieting the noises in your head with a simple kiss to the temple.
“Mi princesa, go sit down.. I’ll make dinner” she’d whisper into your hair as she led you to the table and made dinner while you watched with warmth at the woman before you. 
______________________________________________________________
I remember you would tease me about my accent when I spoke Spanish and said you would give me lessons if I made you a bag after you saw me crocheting mine on the bus to my first away game. I know that the Spanish lessons were just a way to spend time with me. You could have asked me to be with you at any point and I would have said yes. I remember you teaching me how to dance in our kitchen one night after saying that I was worried about making a fool out of myself at my brother’s wedding. I’m going to miss our 3 am dances we would do when I was pacing the kitchen stressed out of my mind on this transfer.
As you said, “Here I don’t want you to walk back and forth alone, just dance with me instead…I'm here”. I still remember the feeling of you under my palms; every curve, every line as I would take the lead of the dance and you would look at me calmly guiding my hands like how you did when you first taught me…yeah I’ll miss those quiet moments the most. 
______________________________________________________________
You had not gone to practice that morning due to stomach issues and you had to basically push Alexia out of the door so that she went to practice. 
“I’ll get some rest do not worry, mi Reinita” You say as she answers with a quick kiss.
She grabs her bags and gives another kiss pulling you in,“I’ll be home as soon as I'm done ok?”.
Alexia entered through the doorway of the shared home and saw several moving boxes littered on the floor. Confused, she looks for you as there is not the usual soft music that you play when you are doing chores and finds you wrapped in a blanket sound asleep on the couch.
Her bag is gently put to the ground as she rounds the corner of the couch. She sees the coffee table littered with papers and your phone with an unread message from her.
She quietly looms over the papers, seeing a copy of your original Barcelona contract, the proposal, the rejection to the proposal, another club offer and, finally, the letter to confirm intention to transfer. Your phone lights up with another notification; getting the attention of Alexia who notices the handwritten letter that remained unfinished under your phone. 
You were a semi - heavy sleeper so she picked up the letter and began to read as her soft smile appeared, fell and then reappeared.  The boxes made sense now, you were organizing your things ahead of time to leave. Seems that you received the news that morning, explaining why the staff were busy when Alexia tried her best to speak with them.
She looked down at your handwriting again…she’s so familiar with it as you have always littered her spaces with sticky notes of encouragement, love and everything in between. You always thought she had thrown them away but on your 2nd year anniversary she showed you the box where she had kept every single note that you had written to her. 
It didn’t matter to her; she kept all the ones that said “Hi Ale, can you get some milk?”, “Reinita, there is dinner in the fridge”, “I’m too lazy, I ordered pizza oh and I guess Patri is coming over?’ 
This letter no matter how long she will keep especially close to her.
Alexia sat at the other end of the couch and began to read the last bit of the letter.
______________________________________________________________
I know that I will be so far from you and that you will miss the things that I do. You were always a romantic like that mi amor (my love). That’s why I am going to leave you my favorite book, the one that I always read way too many times and have cried over just as much. The only thing that I ask is that you don’t open it until I am gone and you are missing me. Just saying not to is going to make you want to open the book even more but please listen to me on this one. :)
I don’t know what the fixtures of the NWSL are yet but I know that you will want to -
______________________________________________________________
You stir and stretch out your legs pushing Alexia in the process. The resistance pulled you from your sleep.
Alexia laughs softly as she pats your leg, “Sleep well, cariño (dear)?” 
You only nod as you rub the sleep from your eyes. Without a word, you sit up and look at Alexia who fiddles with the note that you had written. 
“I wish I was at least awake when you found out, amor (love)” you start as you shift over to be closer to her.
“Are you mad at me?” your head now lying on her shoulder.
Alexia looks, almost, offended at the comment as she turns to you.
“This is your decision, cariño, you know that I will support in whatever you do and wherever you go…I’m sad, yes, but seeing you living out your dreams has been a honor for me…so no I’m not mad solamente bien orgullosa de ti (only very proud of you)”.
She pulls you closer, her hand softly rubbing your arm as she hears the small sniffles coming from you.
“Promise me you’ll watch at least one game” you say softly.
Alexia laughs and kisses the top of your head, “Amor, I’ll watch every one”.
______________________________________________________________
The announcement came and went and so did you. You found yourself preparing for the inaugural season for Bay FC. The fans had taken a liking to you immediately and the management welcomed you with open arms. 
Alexia, remained in your shared home that now was quieter without your presence. The spaces that normally were filled with little posts were bare, the days for chores weren’t filled with your questionable music, and Alexia no longer needed to dance in the kitchen at 3 am.
After a particularly hard practice, Alexia returned home missing you more than usual. As she plopped down on the couch her eyes fell on your book that you left behind for her.
She remembered that you had asked her to not open it until you were gone to your new club.
Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg, it was the book that you read every year during the summer without fail. No matter how many times you read it, Alexia would see you tear up and close the book to compose yourself before continuing. 
She got the book and opened to the first page and seeing a small, sticky note,
“I miss you, mi reinita”.
Alexia flipped the page and found another one,
“You can text my mom for her soup recipe, she’d only give it to you”
A laugh escapes her as she continues through the book finding more and more of your notes that you had written out. She skips to the end and finds an older looking note.
“I love you, Alexia Putellas…” with the date of your 1st anniversary with Alexia.
And below with newer ink and dated the day that you had left.
“And I… I still love you, even after all of this time”.
581 notes · View notes
dilatorywriting · 8 months
Text
Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 2]
Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 4.6k
Summary: Fish are friends (?). You are not food.
[PART 1] [PART 2]
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The Siren wasn’t leaving.
Which a part of you had been expecting. Because surely if there had been a snowball’s chance in Hell of him making it out into the open ocean alive before you’d cut through the ropes, he would have taken it and left you stranded without a second thought. And his odds weren’t that much better now—his fins were still a mangled mess and the wounds all along his scales and dainty featherings were still raw and oozing. It only made sense that he’d take at least a few days to try and recover.
But… But still.
Did he have to make it so obvious that he was sticking around?
The glint of the light off his tail was a constant distraction—always bright and eye-catching even at the cloudiest points of the day. Always flashing just out of the corner of your eye as a perpetual reminder that there was something in the water that would very happily gobble you up if you bothered making a swim for safety.
He’d also taken to sunning himself. Like some kind of overgrown mer-cat. Stretched out languidly on a flat rock with the tips of his violet fins hanging over the edge—just enough for the gauzy edges to play along the surf and avoid drying out entirely. His pale hair splayed out in a halo around him as he snoozed softly in the heat of the afternoon.
Which! No fair! This wasn’t a vacation! This was a stranding! An SOS! A Rose Queen Procedural Rule Four-Hundred-and-Four! And him taking up the whole of the cove to, I don’t know, tan, felt like another intentional slap in the face. The sun rose over the bay, which meant this stretch of shore was facing East. Which was the direction your vessel had been coming from. Which meant that this was the place on the little islet where you needed to be. Subsection Three of Procedural Four-O’-Four. ‘In the case of Crew Overboard, we will always travel the same route as planned. In order to give the Strandee a chance to map out a reconnection point.’ Riddle always had been so smart about these kinds of things.
‘It’s just until he’s better,’ you reassured yourself for the umpteenth time that morning. ‘Then he’ll leave and I can get rescued or die here alone and in peace.’
A fin flicked up from the shallows to spray you with saltwater splatters and you spluttered indignantly when it ran down into your eyes. You glared at the Siren’s retreating back, musing bitterly about how you’d never thought it was possible for someone to make the tuck of their shoulders look smug.
‘Alone and in peace,’ you repeated hopefully. And it sounded like such far off dream.
.
.
On the second day post-rope-removal, the Siren waved you down with a sharp flick of his wrist.
You approached the waterline hesitantly, still mostly waiting for him to turn on you and make toothpicks out of your bones. But instead of murdering you and getting crafty with your corpse, he just pointed to some scribbles in the sand. You squinted at the loop-de-loops suspiciously. It almost looked like an illustration of dancing bubbles—the lot of them curling and popping along the ground in a line like a limerick. 
“Uhm, very nice,” you tried, and the fins flattened pissilly all along the side of his head.
He jabbed his claw towards the mess again. Then firmly at your eyes (hopefully not as a threat that he’d be happy to take them right out of your head if you continued to be obtuse). And then back again. He made a point to move the tip of his sharp nail from one swirl to the next in a little hop-hop-hop. It reminded you a bit deliriously of Riddle trying to teach some of the more socially bereft members of the crew their letters, and—
“You want me to read that?” you gaped, staring at the elegant curls of nonsense in the sand.
The Siren crossed his arms across his lean chest with a scoff that puffed past his lips hard enough to fluff out some of the paler, purple-tipped, hair hanging by his chin. He rolled his eyes at you and muttered something thin and spicy under his breath that you just knew had to be some sort of insult.
“I can read!” you defended, because it felt like it needed defending.
He leveled you with an entirely unimpressed ‘Oh, I’m sure you can’ sneer and you dropped to your knees, incensed. You dug your fingers into the sand and started sculpting out your own very cheery message into the muck.
When you were done, you waved a hand towards your proclamation and watched his brows pull together at the center into a teeny, pinched sort of expression. He let himself roll forward with the seafoam to lay more fully on the shore, and stared down at the mess you’d made like it was some strange code. Even reaching out to poke softly at the straight edge of a ‘T’ with one of his knife-sharp talons.
After a long moment of contemplation, he looked back up at you with an arched brow that was so unintentionally poised and not full of spite that it almost took your breath away. Who knew how pretty an already stunning face could become when it wasn’t twisted up in absolute vitriol? You shook away that absolutely damning thought in horror. That’s exactly what he’d want you to think. Siren, and all. Using his hotness to lure people onto his dinner table. Not you, baby. Because you were smart. And so gross from being stranded under island sunshine for a week that surely you’d taste like some absolutely rancid jerky at this point.
“Oh no,” you droned, and immediately that subtle curiosity of his ticked right back into irritation. “Two creatures from entirely different species and ecosystems have somehow managed to develop unique alphabets. What a completely unpredictable complication.”
The Siren puffed up like an angry lionfish and turned with a snarl to dive back into the shallows—making sure to whip his tail in your face and slam into the water with a huge splash as he went. The salt spray pelted down like rain and you snickered as it sloughed off your cheeks in rivulets, content to sit merrily in the wet sand beside your hastily scribbled: ‘Mermen Are Vicious Bitches. Hit Me if You Agree :)’
.
.
The next morning, there were more fish on the shoreline. Though these ones looked a bit less like they’d been dragged up by their souls and left to writhe in the wake of Siren-Screaming-Agony and more just like the unfortunate victims of a pair of too sharp claws.
You frowned down at a brown, sad-looking flounder that had clearly found itself at the very wrong end of a certain merman still swanning about in the bay not fifty feet away. It was mostly intact, and pleasantly plump for a flat, pancake-looking blob of muck. Your stomach gurgled and the thought of a nice, coal-charred, fillet really seemed quite nice. You chanced another peek at your resident Asshole, debating if it was worth swiping his snack. Another ominous rumble from your abdomen and you reached down to steal your prize and scuttle off deeper inland like a troll returning to its layer.
It didn’t take very long to get a small fire going, and within the hour you’d been fed and were more than ready for a cozy, full-bellied nap in the soft sand.
By the time you began to make your way back to the cove, the sun was high in the sky and you were already dreading sitting beneath its weighted rays for another afternoon. So you slowed your pace to a near snail crawl, dragging your feet as you went.
The little octopus from earlier was still swaying contentedly around the tide pool you’d shoved it into. It probably needed to be carried back out to the bay at some point so that it could swim back into the depths of the ocean, but the poor thing was just so small and round. Surely it’d get devoured by the first sharp-toothed thing that caught sight of it. Especially with your merman apparently being out for the blood of whatever other scaly things were swimming about in his temporary home. So for now you slipped it some small bits of leftover fish instead. You sat, crouched at the pool’s edge, and watched raptly as it grabbed the shredded bits of pale meat with its chubby tentacles to shove towards an eager beak.
“You’re the only friend I have left in the whole world,” you told the octopus miserably, wiping the greasy remnants of your lunch off your chin with a sigh.
The traitor hurriedly moved to snatch up the treat you’d offered it and hide itself away between some rocky crevices. You sighed louder. Rejected. What a time to be alive. 
.
.
The next morning, the Siren was singing again.
That familiar prickle danced its way up your arms, leaving pinpricks of goosebumps in its wake. Some pirates told tales of storms leaving their mark in such a way—that seasoned sailors could feel the tickle of thunder against their skin long before they could spot dark clouds on the horizon. You’d have to amend that little legend whenever you found your way back to The Rose Queen. Siren Sense was a lot cooler, anyways. Any idiot with arthritis could tell you when rain was due.
But either way, Mister Merman was back to idly circling the bay and calling into the distance. At least it wasn’t as miserable as it had been the other day—more of a leisurely pacing than the frantic, near-feral caterwauling that had soured your gut so terribly.
There was another fat fish on the shore. A bright, red snapper so brilliantly crimson that it was almost impossible to make out the garish wounds in its side. Almost. And even if it hadn’t been, the drooping, rust colored, rivulets dug into the sand would have been enough of a clue.
Why the Siren was bothering to leave his clawed-up kills at your feet like some overgrown cat dragging in mice, you had no idea. Maybe he was poisoning them, and subsequently you. Maybe he was bored and it was some sort of fishy enrichment. Maybe he just didn’t want to bother leaving dead things around to contaminate his favorite sunning spots, and tossing his leftovers in your vicinity was as close to a reliable dumpster as he could find on a remote island. Who’s to say.
Either way, you dutifully ignored the magical tingles racing up your shoulders and brought the newest fish back to your makeshift firepit. You grilled the snapper in silence, debating. Then you fed your octopus friend and returned to the beach, cooked fillets in tow.
You waited in awkward silence for a few moments, fish burning your palms, before raising your fingers to your lips and whistling loud enough to make your teeth ache. The mystical static faded from the air and you watched in pleasant (?) surprise as the Siren made his way back to where you’d set up camp. He rolled in with the tide, cresting on a gentle bit of surf and coming to rest neatly in the shallows—fins splayed out beneath him like a lord lying amidst his many silken robes. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at you with an arched brow and slanted frown.
You awkwardly extended a hand—roasted snapper still resting in your open palm and burning the absolute fuck out of your fingers.
“Uhm,” you said, feeling a bit too much like the local idiot trying to feed one of the rabid, wandering, strays around town. “Food?”
He scoffed and rolled his eyes at you.
“Do you want food?” you tried.
The other brow joined the first, nearly rising all the way into his hairline. It wasn’t a pleasant sort of surprise.
“It’s better cooked?” you coaxed in the face of his outright constipated scowl. Be fed and full, you thought hopefully. Maybe then you won’t fucking look at me like I’m a boxed lunch.
He jabbed a sharpened, black talon in your direction, and then pointedly again angled up towards your mouth. Then back to the fish still roasting your poor cuticles straight off your fingers.
You blinked, a bit thrown.
“What? It’s supposed to be for me?”
He nodded, throwing in another one of those bombastically snarky eyerolls for good measure. ‘Obviously,’ that sneer said.
“Well,” you huffed, plopping down to sit cross-legged in the sand and offering up one of the fillets. “There’s plenty for both of us.” When he stared at you like you were attempting to serve him up a choice pile of literal dog shit, you wiggled your hand and entreated, “Please just take it before my skin melts off.”
The Siren huffed and reached out, plucking up the fish with the tips of his claws. He observed your meager meal as one might a particularly unappealing cockroach, and after a long moment, his nose scrunched (cute, you thought absently before immediately suffocating every wayward braincell that would dare call your murderous shore-neighbor anything of the sort) and he leaned forward to nip at a crisped, pink corner with the barest edge of one canine.
When your culinary creation didn’t immediately strike him dead on the spot, he took another, equally dainty bite. And then another. The tight pucker of his mouth eased as he chewed, and you watched as the harsh cut of his purple irises warmed with that same intrigue as they had when you’d first scribbled your foreign letters into the sand.
He readjusted his grip on the fish between his claws to get a better angle and took a proper bite, chewing thoughtfully. Before you knew it, you were watching him nip at the pads of his fingers, his gaze going a bit round and shocked when he realized that he’d devoured the entirety of it.
“See?” you hummed, tucking into your own portion with gusto. “Not all things humans come up with are terrible.” He harumphed and turned to glare back out over the bay, slouching into the surf with an expression that was most certainly not a pout. “But maybe you’d know that if you bothered to do anything other than murder and devour us on sight,” you chirped.
To which you were immediately doused with an armful of water for your troubles. The Siren glowered petulantly from where he’d just wave-bombed you, and then dove back into the deeper waters of the sandbar. He immediately started up his stupid singing all over again—pointedly keeping his chin high above the surface and splashing brine into your face anytime he looped close enough to shore.
“I don’t know why I bother,” you huffed, and ate your sopping snapper in grumpy silence.
.
.
There was a ship wrecked off the coast.
Nothing overly cool, and definitely only a small chunk of what had probably at one point been a rather impressive vessel. But it was something. The first change in pace you’d had in days and oozing with possibilities.
The only problem was that the great, rotting, hull of the thing was dug up into a jagged skerry about a hundred yards off the shore—wedged into the pointed rocks with no chance of any wave or breeze sending it adrift. You could swim perfectly well. I mean, living your life on a ship surrounded by tumultuous, depthless, ocean would have been a hugely stupid career move otherwise. The issue, naturally, was the thing currently making its home in these waters. Sharks and barracudas, blablabla. They were just animals, no matter how many teeth they had. The Siren had a grudge. And just as many teeth.
Right now, said spiky pain in your ass was lounging in the shallows like the froth was an elegant daybed made just for him—shredded fins swaying in the soft tides and his hair floating about him that same, white-gold halo that made him look far too peaceful for anyone’s good sense. He wasn’t singing today, which was great for the local wildlife population but terrible for your Siren Sense. Once you waded into the waves, you’d have no real way to keep track of him. Hope, maybe, that he didn’t think fucking with you was worth messing up whatever tan-line he had going on. But nothing concrete that you’d be willing to bet the safety of your limbs on.
You wiggled your toes in the sand and stared longingly out at the stupid, wrecked ship that was so stupidly close. If you swam your fastest you could probably make it there in under two minutes—less than that, even. But that was still more than enough time for the Siren to rake those dark claws of his across your throat and drag you down into the depths to drown.
Riddle’s angry, red face swam through your thoughts, and you could practically see him shoving that beloved law tome of his under your nose for the umpteenth time.
‘Rule 32, never make dangerous bets that you’re certain you won’t win, particularly if you are betting against a Blue Nosed Beetle.’
‘Rule 15, do not needlessly sacrifice your life in the name of curiosity, excluding—of course—if you hail from Cheshire or are a Cat.’
‘It’s only a dumb shipwreck,’ you thought miserably, if rationally. ‘It’s probably not even that cool.’
Your captain would be so proud.
.
.
The next morning you were rolling up the cuffs on your pants and wading into the cool shallows, silently lighting a candle in your heart for your beloved, steam-faced leader and promising that you would at the very least cover the costs of your own funeral so as not to inconvenience him further.
The waves lapped against your ankles and the waters themselves were shockingly clear and blue. You could practically see each grain of sand beneath your heels—make out each pointy rock and the little, red crabs that scuttled away from your tromping like civilians fleeing from the shadow of a leviathan. The Siren was back to singing today. Perhaps his poor, overworked throat simply needed a break every now and again. But either way, your Merman Magic Missive was working in full force. The hairs on your arms stood at full attention and you liked to imagine you could see them twitching in circles to follow his long, looping arcs through the bay.  
You made it up to your knees and waited, eyes scanning the open water and nose twitching like maybe you could smell the fucker. There was nothing but a familiar prickle along your shoulders and that deep sense of ‘tug tug tug’ with no answer, so you took a deep breath and pushed further, the water sloshing up to your hips, your chest, and finally you were floating—paddling slow and cautious towards the wreckage.
It really was insanely close. Even moving at your most cautious, sneakiest crawl, you’d made it nearly three-quarters of the way there within perhaps five minutes. And no signs of a vengeful, hungry Siren circling the waters beneath you either. More rules that perhaps that you’d have to tell Riddle might need some amending  once you finally made it back home to your crew. ‘Dangerous bets,’ who? ‘Needless sacrifice,’ what? You might as well have outsmarted the whole ocean.
As you moved closer, you could make out a strange coat of arms on the side of the hull that you didn’t recognize. Twining, silver songbirds soaring against the sparkly backdrop of an otherwise plain faced crest, which honestly looked far too delicate to be heading the broken remains of what was no doubt at one point an absolute monster of a vessel. You reached out to brush your fingers against the shining plaque and then you were underwater.
You fought the immediate impulse to gasp in surprise, because expediting the process of your inevitable drowning just seemed stupid even by your standards. There was a clawed hand wrapped around your calf yanking you down, and you squinted through a stream of panicked bubbles to see your terrible, horrible, completely thankless co-strandee snarling up at you with sharp teeth and a sharper flail of his delicate gills. Thankfully the water wasn’t all that deep, so by the time you’d been dragged to the bottom you were maybe only ten feet under. But still. It was the goddamn principle! And besides, you’d heard about enough drunks drowning in puddles to know that this was more than enough Liquid Death to put you in an early grave.
The Siren looped around you in tight circles, and you could feel the brush of his tattered fins against your skin like the ghostly fingers of a reaper trailing down your spine. You’d known he was big—giant, even. Long, and impressive, and built to rule the very depths he’d dragged you into. Large enough to wrestle with sharks and capsize lifeboats. Big enough, no doubt, to eat you whole and still be hungry enough for seconds.
The salt stung your eyes and you blinked hard to keep his vibrant, amethyst tail in focus. Would he strike from the back, where you couldn’t see? Or would he go right for your throat—a direct, full frontal, ‘fuck you, human’ if there ever was one. And honestly, what were you expecting? That a good deed and a few pieces of cooked fish would sway him from devouring you whole? Maybe the island sun had fried whatever remained of your rattled brain.  
He stopped in front of you and hissed—a stream of tight, tiny, bubbles jetting past his canines. You glared in petulant confusion, absolutely refusing to give your would-be murderer whatever reaction he was hoping for. His brow pinched into a tight, angry, v and he snarled again. You snarled back, and with that, the last breath in your lungs swooped out of you in a tight squeak. You choked, and struggled, and kicked at the claws holding you down. The Siren reared back, eyes widening in something that looked insultingly like genuine surprise, and you used his moment of hesitation to propel yourself off the sandbar and back to the choppy surface.
You gasped in a hasty breath, expecting to immediately be dragged back under. But when you weren’t pulled back down to your watery grave, you took in another and another. Gasping, and hacking, and spitting up seafoam. The Siren’s head crested the surface beside you and you flailed away, nearly pushing yourself under all over again. You paddled frantically, trying to keep your nose above the tide, and then suddenly there was something under you. You squawked and kicked it on instinct. The Siren snapped his pointy teeth in your face and you realized with a start that oh. That was him, wasn’t it? The long, winding, scaled muscles of his tail curled beneath your toes in what almost seemed like an attempt to keep you upright.
He stared at you with those unnervingly bright eyes of his—blonde hair curling softly at the edges where it plastered elegantly along his finned ears, and those too-long lashes dripping with small, sparkly, drops of salt water.
“What the hell is this bullshit?” you choked, coughing up more bubbly froth. “You don’t get to look so—so put together after trying to murder me!”  
The Siren huffed out something that the delusional, still half-drowned, part of you wanted to classify as a laugh. And then he organized that bemused expression back into its usual, haughty, iciness and began to carefully make his way back towards the shore—towing you along like a poor, little, lost buoy with nowhere else to go.
You let him drag you up into the sand and only flopped around a little. He flicked his tail at you and your dramatics and you turned on him with a fierce, waterlogged scowl—a bit more confident now that he didn’t have the home field advantage.
“What was that for! I just wanted to look at the ship! I wasn’t even doing anything to you!” you wailed. “I haven’t done anything to you at all! Ever! Why do you keep—" you collapsed back into the sand with a miserable whine that rattled all the teeth in your head, and ground the heels of your palms into your eyes until you saw stars.
After a long moment of nothing, you felt a gentle tap at your shoulder.
You looked back up with a start to see Mister Merman looking nearly sheepish.Or as much of an equivalent that his aloof mask of a face was capable of pulling off. The clawed finger resting at your collarbone dropped to the sand by your hip, and he carefully began to draw more of those squiggles. No, scratch that. Not the dancing, popping, ones from the other day. These actually looked sort of like the silver songbirds from that shipwreck. More jagged, certainly. But similar enough that you felt something a bit too coldly cautious to be confusion seep through your guts.
Once he was finished, he looked up and met your gaze—sharp, pointed. And then he reached back out and smeared the birds into nothing and shook his head, firm. His red lips moved slowly, exaggerated, again and again. And you could make out the vague shape of words you’d had shouted at you a hundred times over.
‘Not safe.’
That same, shivery, nervous feeling bit at your limbs.
“…okay,” you said after a moment. And then leaned forward to dig your own fingers into the sand, dutifully ignoring how your elbows knocked against his own.
‘Not safe,’ you wrote, and watched his eyes trace each letter like a treasure map.
There was another tap at your shoulder. And then he pointed to the words in the muck, then to himself.
You rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes. You’re not safe either.”
He sighed dramatically enough to ruffle the ends of your still soaked hair. And then pointed to the words again, tapping at the ‘N’ with the curved tip of a claw.
“Nnnn?” you mouthed, confused.
He moved to the ‘o’ next and it clicked.
“You want me to teach you how to read my letters?” you asked, flabbergasted. Another sigh, like you’d dropped the weight of all the world on his pale shoulders. Or perhaps that your idiocy was enough to put that hearty mass to shame. You decided that you were still feeling a bit too much like you’d only just barely escaped a brush with death, dismemberment, and dinner plans to push your luck with sassing him back too harshly, and just blinked owlishly in dazed surprise. “But why?”
His purple eyes trailed in the direction of the shipwreck and something cutting and poisonous clouded his expression. He pointed to the words again.
‘Not safe.’
“Alright,” you said, looking out over the water with a strange sort of sinking feeling in your gut. You leaned forward and began to draw the alphabet at your feet. His tail twitched by your fingers and you ignored the soft brush of his still-healing fins. “This one’s an ‘A’, like in ‘Asshole’—"
Whomp went the tail as he cracked it across your knuckles like a school matron with a ruler. And you couldn’t help the startled burst of genuine, tinkling laughter that bubbled past your lips for the first time since you’d been dragged overboard.
.
.
[TAG LIST - CLOSED]
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1K notes · View notes
moonjxsung · 5 months
Note
boy best friend!lee know smut where it starts with the classic zipping up your dress please!!
Warning: smut below! mdni.
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“Are you sure you’ll be okay going out tonight?” Minho asks as you gather your hair into a makeshift ponytail and hold it aside.
“I’ll be fine,” you say, watching him through the mirror in front of you as he grasps the little zipper on your black dress, zipping it up slowly and smoothing down the straps for you.
“Thanks,” you reply, turning around to face him now. He wears a serious expression on his face, casually dressed to stay in for the night as you prepare for your date.
“What’s his name again?” Minho says, cocking his head a little.
“Hyunjin. The one I met at some work event.”
“The painter?”
“Yeah,” you say, surprised he even remembers.
But of course Minho remembers, because he’s kept track of every single guy you’ve gone out with for most of your friendship now. He knows their social media handles, he double checks your location at nighttime and he’s even interrogated a few of them to make sure they weren’t as suspicious as you made them sound. And he silently prays that you’ll come to your senses at some point, realizing it’s him you’re in love with, and that maybe your best friend has been the right one all along.
You, on the other hand, are well aware of Minho’s crush on you at this point. He’s made it painfully obvious, fighting men who openly flirt with you and questioning every person you text or call. His gaze lingers on you for a little too long, his eyes lighting up when you get close to him or brush against him. And maybe you feel butterflies around him, too, these days. But you’re also still averse to the idea of dating your best friend- if things haven’t been romantic for all those years, why would they start now?
Minho chuckles a little bit, shaking his head and averting his gaze from yours.
“What?” You question, chuckling too, at his reaction.
“I don’t know what it is you see in these random men.”
There it is.
“It’s just a date,” you affirm, shrugging. “We don’t have to get married. If it works, then it works. If not, there’s plenty others.”
“Why wouldn’t you just wait until you find one that does work? Why go out with someone random every week?”
“It’s fun,” you echo back to him, now meeting his worried expression.
“You came home crying from one just last week. The one before that made you pay for dinner. And this Hyunjin guy sounds like he thinks he’s the next Banksy.”
You can’t help but laugh at his comments, amused at how Minho’s trying so badly to avoid confessing his own feelings. It’s a little pathetic, watching him hint at it like this, but you know very well what he’s getting at.
“Maybe the right guy hasn’t come around yet,” you say finally, holding eye contact with him. He blinks a few times, eyes flickering down to your lips and back up to your gaze, lost for what to say. But his pounding heartbeat in his chest urges him to say something, anything, in hopes that you’ll take the hint. And the words slip out before he can debate even saying them.
“Maybe the right guy has been in front of you all along.”
And for some reason, your chest flutters at practically this admission from him, your thoughts racing with images of you and him, your best friend, desperately kissing each other and ending this year-long bout of feigning your chemistry with him. Even you’re lost at what to say, your lips parting and then closing again, swallowing your words every time they start to form.
“I don’t know if you’re just playing dumb,” Minho begins, his eyes scanning yours intensely. “Or you genuinely just can’t tell how badly I want to kiss you right now.”
And you do know it, but you also play dumb, entertaining his little game like it’ll somehow simmer down the sexual tension between the two of you. And yet still, hearing the words makes you feel dizzy, conflicted on whether to act on your emotions or keep them at bay like you try to do. There’s nothing you can say in response to him, your eyes locked on his parted lips now, too, eager to pull him close and kiss him.
And although you know this will change things moving forward, that’s exactly what you do.
Two hands cup his face, bringing him closer to you as you finally press your lips on his and kiss him passionately, Minho wasting no time gliding his tongue across your lips. His big hands cup the small of your back, desperately pushing you closer up against him like he’ll lose you if he lets go. And then in one swift movement, he’s spinning you around again, forcing your gaze on the mirror in front of you as he works needy kisses down your neck.
“We make sense together,” Minho breathes, groaning as you reach a hand up to tangle in his hair.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about this, too. Thought about what’d it be like to have me all over you like this. God, the things I wanna do to you,” he groans again, his kisses transitioning to gentle sucking motions along your flesh.
“I don’t…” you start to say, losing your train of thought as he slides one strap of your dress down and sucks the skin on your shoulder there.
“I know you,” Minho says, fixing your gaze on him in the mirror. “Don’t lie. I see the way you look at me, too. You’ve been playing this little game for so long and I let you have your fun. Now let me make you feel good.”
You shiver at his words, desperately reaching for his hand when he trails his fingers along the hem of your skirt and flips it up, revealing your already soaking panties for him. With a smirk plastered on his face, his hand snakes down inside your panties, two fingers working themselves along your clit in little circle motions. You gasp instantly at the contact, clenching around nothing as he watches your reactions in the mirror and smiles when little moans begin to escape your lips.
“You’re dripping for me,” Minho says curiously, moving his fingers a little faster. Your clit pulsates against his fingers, your hips instinctively grinding up against him to chase the friction.
“You’re so good,” you say breathlessly, squirming in his touch. His hands hold you steady, one hand reaching up to force your gaze in the mirror again. “Will you put one in?”
“Of course I can,” Minho chuckles wickedly. “Didn’t think I’d have you begging for my fingers so fast.”
“Fuck… you…” you huff in his grasp, your panting turning to pornographic moans as he slides a finger in and begins to fuck you with it.
“I’m trying to,” Minho replies, pressing a wet kiss to your neck and picking up the pace. You moan desperately for him, little pleads escaping your lips so he’ll make you finish faster. And as he feels you start to contract around his fingers, he pulls out again, leaving you a whimpering mess.
“Why’d you stop?” You ask, pressing your thighs together for some sense of relief.
“Relax,” Minho says with a chuckle, pulling down his sweatpants and letting them pool at his ankles with his boxers. “I just want you to finish on my cock.”
You swallow nervously at his words; it’s not a surprise that he wants to fuck you, but all of a sudden you’re aware that your best friend since college is about to have sex with you- right here in your living room, when you’re supposed to be leaving for a date in ten minutes.
Though the thought of it also arouses you, it excites you inexplicably to think about having sex with him, finally ridding yourself of the sexual tension you’ve been repressing for years. All the times you’ve wondered when he looked like when he jerked off in his dorm room, all those times you’ve caught him staring relentlessly at your body in a bikini or a short dress.
The feeling of his hardened cock against your flesh interrupts your thoughts, and you’re reminded again of what’s about to happen.
“Is this okay?” Minho asks, pumping the base of his cock behind you a few times. “I’m not doing this if you don’t feel the same.”
“No, please,” you whimper, intertwining your hand with his vacant one. “Please I’ve thought about this for so long.”
“Oh, really?” He says, smugness all over his teasing tone.
“Yeah,” you reply boldly, arching your back to give him better access. “Sometimes I touch myself to you.”
“Fuck,” Minho says, angling his cock at your entrance. “Fuck, you’re driving me crazy.”
You whimper again, giving his hand a little squeeze and begging for him to put it in. And with a few more pumps over you, he finally obliges, slipping into your sopping cunt and giving you a gentle thrust. His hands snake down to grasp yours, intertwining your fingers together as he leans down to press a series of wet kisses to the crook of your neck.
“Tell me more,” Minho says, now pumping into you at a slow, but steady pace. “Tell me what you think about.”
“Ah- fuck,” you breathe out, groaning when he hits a particularly sensitive spot.
“That night we went to that wedding,” you utter between gasps. “And you wore that suit.”
“The black one?” He smiles against your skin.
“With the black tie- god, Minho!” You gasp. “I thought about you fucking me on every table in the reception hall. I think I broke my vibrator cumming to the thought of it.”
“Jesus, baby,” Minho says with a chuckle, his cock twitching inside of you. “That’s so hot.”
Your heart flutters at the use of pet names, clenching down on his cock as he thrusts into you, squelching noises filling the room around you.
“Even your cologne turns me on,” you continue, mascara pooling under your eyes now from being so fucked-out in pleasure. “Everything about you turns me on.”
“Oh really?” Minho says again with a grin, snaking a hand around your neck and pumping faster into you.
“I’ll let you go on your little date,” he says, the sound of slapping skin almost drowning out his talking. “But you’re not gonna forget who fucked you like this.”
“No, please,” you say, eyebrows arching up in pleasure as his hand snakes back down to your clit. “I don’t want to go with him. I just want to stay here with you. Please, fuck me harder, Min.”
With a satisfied smile, Minho complies with your begging, now rutting into you with full force and letting the tip of his cock hit your cervix with every thrust. You can’t talk anymore, too overtaken by pleasure to string together a coherent sentence as he fills you up so fully. Pornographic moans now circle the room, the neighbors likely catching on to what you’re doing. But you can’t care about anything else right now except for his cock and his veiny hands on your flesh.
“Min, I’m so close,” you say, arching further back into him.
“I know,” he says, well aware of the way you’re pulsating rhythmically around his length now. “I’ve got you. Be a good friend and cum for me.”
His moans fill your ears as he nears his orgasm too, lips parting beautifully against your skin as he sucks the bruises he already left.
And then with a few last hard thrusts, Minho spills his milky white cum into you, fucking the remainder into your sensitive cunt as you clench around him and dribble your own release on his cock.
“God,” he says, groaning as he pulls out and steadies his breathing. “That was so much better than I imagined it.”
Minho leaves momentarily to clean himself off, you doing the same, and then returning to the living room. He returns to find you staring at your appearance in the mirror, covered in bruises, your hair disheveled and your makeup running down your face.
When he approaches you, you turn around to look up at him, feeling the familiar butterflies in your stomach as he towers over you and grazes a finger over your lips.
“Are you going?” He asks in a gentle tone, and you blink up at him innocently.
“Can we do that again?” You ask, an almost dazed look in your eyes as you wait for his response. You can’t help it, desperate to feel his cock inside you all over again, his lips on your flesh and the pet names.
Minho chuckles lightly at your words. “We can do that as many times as you want,” he says over you. “But you have to let me take you on a date first.”
“Deal,” you say quickly, the both of you no stranger to outings together, just the two of you.
And as he leans in to kiss you gently again, you realize his words ring very true- maybe the right one was in front of you all along.
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