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bunny584 · 4 months

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OBSESSED: YUTA

A/N: Sweet, innocent, puppy-eyed boy who is no better than the frat boys you detest 🤭 (this is for anon who requested a lil crazy special grade sorcerer doing ungodly things!! Shoko feat The Boys ™️ is up next, then I SWEAR I’m done and back to AO3)

C/W: Aged up characters, College AU. Masturbation. Mature, 18+

“YUUTA?! Are you kidding me?”

You stop time.

Heads turn in his direction. But Yuuta doesn’t register any it because of your smile.

The 1000-kilowatt smile that the locker room rumors about. The smile that stops traffic. The one that obliterates his train of thought.

365 days since he’s seen it in person.

And suddently the year in Morocco for his University degree feels frivolous.

Yuuta places two bottles of disgustingly expensive champagne (courtesy of Satoru Gojo) in between the half filled red solo cups.

He’s doing his best to keep his eyes above your delicate, sharp collarbones.

He’s doing his best not to follow the Barbie pink hair string around your neck.

The Barbie pink string connected to the triangular bikini that is defying the laws of gravity, Mother Nature, AND physics to keep your busty, perky chest supported.

Not to mention the sheer netted tissue thin excuse for a cover up. Draped around the curve of your hips. It warms him hotter than the Moroccan sun.

You wire yourself through the crowded sorority house kitchen. And Yuuta gnaws on his inner cheeks. The predatory stares from from the frat drones scattered about ignites a guttural flame.

But he’ll deal with that later.

Because Aphrodite is barreling toward him and he is not worthy.

“I can’t believe you made it!” You launch yourself into him.

“I wouldn’t miss it. Happy 21st birthday, gorgeous.”

One of his arms is more than sufficient enough to wrap around your baby doll frame. Other hand in his pocket, while he easily lifts and spins you around twice.

Airy giggles spill from your lips. So clearly surprised by how strong he has grown. He’s bulkier. More toned. Hell of a lot more confident too.

Is he showing of a little? Of course he is.

“You’re here. You’re really here.” You stare up at him with stars in your eyes. Still in utter disbelief.

Your tiny, warm hands cup his face. Yuuta subconsciously melts into them. You always did strum his body like a harp.

“Yuuta, you must be so tired. Your bedroom eyes are even more…bedroom-y.” You tease.

Yuuta laughs to choke down a groan. He doesn’t need a mirror to know he’s stained mulberry right now.

Because why would you mention a bedroom while you are wearing a bikini he could snap with his eyes?

“Hey, be nice! You know there’s no amount of caffeine that can fix the bags.” Good, fucking save.

He swallows thickly and averts his gaze. If he keeps looking at you, he’d drown. Like how he drowned freshman, sophomore and junior year.

A continent, couple oceans and a sea away from you couldn’t keep him afloat.

A palpable silence drapes over the two of you. There’s so much he wants to say.

“Who’s is the hot guy birthday girl is talking to?”

“Okkotsu, I think.”

“No WAY. If she doesn’t fuck him i—“

“OKAY!!!” You exclaim loudly, prompting giggles from your sorority sisters behind you.

Your cheeks are now matching his. You both burst into incredulous laughter, letting some of the pressure out of the proverbial valve.

“Give me a tour, birthday girl.” Yuuta grazes his fingers over your bare shoulders because he can’t not touch you.

Your hand magnets to his wrist and you both beeline up the stairs. He knows, you know, -you both know- you are heading straight to your bedroom.

Yuuta’s heart is throbbing so hard his whole rib cage is vibrating. Cotton lines every corner of his mouth and he’s suddenly forgotten how to swallow.

Forgotten how to breathe apparently too, because he chokes on air when you pull him to the front of your room door.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you muse playfully.

And now his cock is at full staff. The measly silver zipper is definitely not strong enough for this.

“I-Im sorry?” Yuuta gurgles through the saliva pooled in his mouth like a hungry puppy.

“It’s a pool party, silly. C’mon, you can use my bathroom to change.”

Yuuta makes the mistake of letting his eyes drop down the dip of your pretty spine. Tracing all the way down to your matching bikini bottom. That’s a thong. Lining between your perfect, plump ass.

God.

No.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

He follows behind you, nails digging into his dark jeans.

“Bathroom’s through the closet, be quick.” You flash him another pristine grin and…and..

..what is his name again…?

Yuuta returns your smile with a lopsided one of his own. The walk to the bathroom is 13 miles long. There’s no way. No way he��s going to be able to hide his unreasonable, rock hard length through his weightless swim trunks.

He halts. Suddenly enchanted by your hanging clothes. Like a Venus fly trap. You’re everywhere.

Your clothes. Your delicious scent. Your jewelry. Your shoes.

Yuuta is in the eye of your vortex.

A long, silky sleeve tickles his cheek. So soft. Electric currents surge through every engorged vessel in his cock. He takes in a long drag of the faint cherry vanilla notes etched into your clothes.

An addict. A hopeless, pathetic addict in a field of his vices.

His fingers earthquake against his buckle. Clumsily stepping out of his jeans.

Just a quick touch. It’ll help him relax. Just really fast, you won’t know.

Yuuta whips around to bury himself in your silk shirt. Heart thundering in his ears. Fingers tickling the hem of his trunks. Shaft fully tented from nothing.

“Yuuta? Did you get lost in there?” Your dulcet voice knock Yuuta’s lust-drunk thoughts loose.

“Ha-N-no! I’m c-coming!”

Yuuta shakily unbuttons his white linen shirt, exposing his lean but chisled core. His cock is diamond hard. Any slight movement and his blunt, leaky tip will peek over the hem.

He strategically folds his pants over the indecent bulge. He just has to count backwards from 500 then he’ll soften and leave the jeans behind.

“Come out!! I won’t bite!” You coax again.

The second Yuuta re-emerges from your closet, he digs the heel of his palm into his crotch. Trying to will his erection down by sheer force because counting just won’t do.

You’re sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning against your palms flat on the duvet.

Your bikini has grown smaller.

It has to have.

Because the way your supple tits spill around the cruel joke that is that top fucks his brain to mush.

Soft curvy lines of your breasts. Feminine pretty lines of your tummy. The swell of your thighs just begging for Yuuta’s lips, his hands…his dick. He could drop to his knees and worship at your alter this second.

“Oh my god!” You giggle again, waving him over to the bed.

“You’re so, big, now.” Your hand lingers on his tensed bicep, currently losing the war against his cock angrily thrashing around in his pants.

“Am I?” Yuuta asks stupidly. Long sentences are off the table.

“Mmhm,” he watches your eyes lazily drink in his face. He must be an embarrassing shade of violet at this point.

Your hand makes its way into his hair and Yuuta just couldn’t choke down the “ohh,” that bubbles out of him.

“God, I’ve missed you, Yuuta.” Your face is so soft. So earnest.

And Yuuta is there with you, he swears he is. It’s just, you’re speaking directly to his cock right now and all the blood has drained from his head to his head.

“I mi-missed you. More.” He manages to grunt out, precum pooling on his thigh.

Hold it together. Fucking hold it together.

You turn your body and scoot closer to him. The peaks and valley of your cleavage, tantalizing him into a mindless fool who can only think about fucking his fist.

“Guys here suck. But not you. You’ve always been amazing,” you murmur, circling feather light shapes against Yuuta’s scalp.

He shudders under your touch. Biting his cheeks so his jaw doesn’t hang open. Drool already threatening to leak from his lips.

“So kind and sweet.” Your eyes drop to his lips at the same that your hand falls to his tensed abs.

And Yuuta is caught in your quick sand. His limbs loosen. Hand on his crotch melts away. Allowing his member to spring upward with all the blood he has in his body. The sudden movement causes his jeans to slide to the floor.

His ears and cheeks burn at his indecency. But he can’t move. He is at your complete mercy. His cock rhythmically pumping out his precum now.

“I..” Yuuta croaks, but in one dizzying motion you dive your lips onto his.

He snaps.

Yuuta’s left hand flies to his neglected, weapy shaft. The friction through his thin trunks evoke a deep moan into your mouth. His other hand grips the back of your head, pressing you forward onto his tongue. He didn’t ask for entry into your lips like he normally would. It’s too dire. He’s too needy.

His hand pumps his length while his tongue maps every corner of your warm mouth. You let out soft, high pitched sighs. Which nearly bring him to finish instantly.

“Oh, Yuuta.” You moan his name. And Yuuta’s hips rut harder into his hands.

He’s hoping, praying you’re too distracted by the bruising kiss to notice the pitiful way he’s bucking his hips. Humping his hand. He’s no better than the guys you were talking about. No better.

“OH BIRTHDAY GIRL!!!!!!” Shrill voices from just outside your door rip you two a mile apart.

Yuuta scrambles to his feet, his arm unsuccessfully covering his crotch. You are panting, thumb stroking your bottom lip. Both of you still brimming with your electric chemistry.

“Enough birthday sex!!! Time for TEQUILA!” Your sorority sisters babble and laugh, about 2 seconds away from opening the door.

You grip the handle. Face and body flushed warm rose.

“I-I-uh I have to-“

“Ye—yeah of course, I’ll meet you, down. I’ll meet you down there.”

Both of your voices nervously collide. Looking everywhere but each other’s eyes. You flutter out in haste. Leaving Yuuta in the middle of your room rock hard and a pre cum covered mess.

Like leaving a fiend with an array of illicit substances.

Yuuta turns on his heel and disappears into your closet. He’s not thinking. Logical thought has long ceased to exist. All he can think about is how much his balls ache for you. How drunk he is off your touch. Your taste. Your smell.

His eyes laser down to a crumpled pair of lace panties just a few paces away from your hamper.

Yuuta’s gaze could burn it through the floor.

Stop, Yuuta. Don’t you dare.

He scolds himself. Even though his hands do the opposite. He drops to his knees and pulls his heavy cock free from its barrier. The other hand toying with your worn panties.

He’s filthy. A dirty, nasty scumbag.

Yuuta tugs his cock, aggressively. Jaw hanging open. Short desperate huffs of air escaping his lips.

No, don’t. Stop. “Nnhhgh s-top…fuck..n-no.” His jagged thoughts and jagged words intertwine. Squelching noises from his arousal pierce through his groans.

Yuuta brings your panties to his nose, and nearly blacks out. Your scent. So fucking delicious. So perfect.

He needs to taste.

His groans become garbled when he stuffs your panties into his mouth. Every single nerve ending in his body ruptures.

Yuuta pumps his cock with both hands. Feverish. Sloppy thrusts of his hips colliding with his white knuckled fists. The world around him dampens. Blurs.

“Nnnghh..uhhgh..f-FUCK,”

Your spit-drenched underwear rolls out of his mouth onto his sensitive tip. Ropes, and ropes and ropes of his cum fill your soft négligée.

Yuuta hangs his head back, leaning against his calves. His dick still twitching through his nirvana.

After a few moments, the fog slowly lifts from his mind. His vision returns. Yuuta wipes the remnants of his arousal off his cock with your panties. Before tucking them into his pocket.

Unable to look himself in the eye, he quickly rinses his hands, intending to rejoin your party at once.

But, when his hand connects with the cold knob, a voice in the back of his mind pipes up.

Take another one.

And in a trance-like state, Yuuta rushes back to your closet hamper to find another pair of your panties.

A pretty, delicate red number catches his eyes and he stuffs it into a free pocket before scurrying out of your room.

He’s no better than them.

He’s worse.

PART II

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delusionalbubble · 2 years

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Top 10 Most Underrated Cities in Africa

Looking for the top 10 most underrated cities in Africa? Tourists and residents in stunning and well-known cities tend to have the opinion that the only locations worth living in or visiting are those with larger map dots. Instagram is flooded with images of tourists climbing Table Mountain in Cape Town, wandering through Chefchaouen, Morocco, or posing in front of the Giza Pyramids, but the…

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sanguineterrain · 21 days

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Sanne can we get a part 2 for reporter!reader?? Picking up where it first left off their first night in the same home - and there's only 1 bed! - and reader shares the bed with him with the promise of not looking at his unmasked face in the middle of the night? And like them realizing over the next few days that they have very similar habits like tendencies to work throughout the night once they've got a lead and not having a set sleep schedule/unconventional sleeping hours.

OKAY HERE WE GO! be fed my lovelies <3 didn't exactly do one bed but hopefully you like it anyway ;) pt 2 of this

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. nightmares, hurt/comfort, jason sexy mf todd being a domestic dreamboat. 2.4k. pls enjoy

****

The Red Hood's apartment is... not at all what you expected.

It looks lived in. It, as awful a thought as it is, looks like an actual person lives here.

And it's not that you didn't know that Hood has a life outside of shooting and scaring, but the giant ficus and the overstuffed bookshelf seem paradoxical to everything you know about Hood.

You're realizing that you don't know him at all.

"So, uh." Hood awkwardly gestures to the apartment. "This is it. Welcome."

"It's nice," you say, stepping over the threshold. "Really nice. I'm a little jealous, Red."

"What can I say? Being public enemy number one is surprisingly lucrative."

You wander to the kitchen. There's a picture of him and a red-headed masked man who looks vaguely familiar. The man is smiling, his arm around Hood. There's a city skyline behind them you don't recognize.

"Where's that?" you ask. You don't expect him to answer.

"Morocco."

"I didn't know you had friends," you say, studying the Welcome to Vegas! magnet that's holding up the picture.

"Ouch."

"No, I—" You turn, shaking your head. "Sorry, no. I meant, like, people you do fun things with."

"Mm, yeah, I know what a friend is."

"Red, you know what I mean. I didn't know you took selfies and kept plants and read."

"Thought I was friendless and illiterate, huh?" He leans against the kitchen table, fist tucked under his helmet. "Y'wouldn't be the first."

"Hood—"

He snorts, shoulders shaking. You stop.

"That's not funny," you say, rolling your eyes. "Jerk."

"It's a little funny. You're always so sharp with your words, smartypants. No, while I'm very literate, friends are admittedly far and few. Arsenal's my closest friend."

"Is he also a crime lord?"

"Nah. Way better guy than me."

You look back at the picture and wonder how often Hood gets to experience joy. And when was the last time he had a vacation?

You feel a gentle tug at the back of your jacket.

"C'mon. You can snoop more later, promise. Lemme show you your room."

Hood takes your suitcase before you can protest. You follow him down the hall. There's one door to the bathroom—the other is to a single bedroom.

The bedroom is nice, bigger than yours at home. It's sort of what you expected (i.e., the mounted katanas on the wall) but also not (a giant framed poster of the 2005 Pride and Prejudice film).

Holy hell. You're in the Red Hood's bedroom.

"Hood, I can't sleep here," you say, watching as he puts your suitcase in the corner.

The bed has been made, sheets tucked in without a single wrinkle. They're in various shades of red. You're sure Hood thinks he's hilarious.

"Why? If the swords are putting you off, I can move 'em."

"No, it's—I can't take your room, Hood. There's no way I'm doing that."

He shakes his head. "No, trust me, it's for the best. That couch is only comfortable to sleep on after a dose of painkillers."

"Dude, I am not making you sleep on the couch in your own house."

"Well, dude, I'm the host, and I'm the big and scary Red Hood, so what I say goes."

"Like either one of us actually believes that," you say, brushing past him to grab your suitcase. "I'm not kicking you out of your bed. It's–it's very sweet of you to offer. But you physically exert yourself every day. You need a comfortable bed more than I do. Besides, it's not like I'll be here for long."

Hood steps in front of you, casually blocking your exit.

"Well, try this on for size: my room is more secure than my living room," he says. "If someone were to break in, they'd have to get through me out there first."

That... is, unfortunately, a good point. You're still extremely paranoid after the assassination attempt two nights ago.

"You're so manipulative, y'know that?" you grumble, leaving your suitcase where it is.

"I know. I come from a real fucked up family." He doesn't sound too put out by it.

"But if you get injured on patrol, I'm sleeping on the couch."

He pats your shoulder. "'S cute you think you can bargain in my house, smarty."

****

Dinner goes well. Hood makes beef bolognese and it's delicious. You take an extra long time in the bathroom before bed so Hood has enough time to eat, considering his refusal to remove his helmet. You'd offered to blindfold yourself—he'd just laughed.

"Sure you don't want your room? It is, after all, yours," you say when you come out, fresh from your shower.

Hood glances at you briefly from where he's washing dishes. He's out of his jacket and suit, now only in jeans and a white t-shirt. Your face feels hot for some reason.

"I'm sure. Cute robe."

"Oh." You look down at the Wonder Woman robe your friend gave you. "Thanks. Got it for my birthday."

"I'll have to get myself one too," Hood says, drying a glass with a polka dot tea towel. "Big Wonder Woman fan."

"Yeah? We solve this case, and I'll get you all the robes you want, Red."

"Tempting."

You chew your lip as you watch him clean up. "Want any help?"

"Go to sleep, star reporter." He sounds amused.

"You try to be a polite guest only to get shot down..." you mumble.

On your way to Hood's room, you get distracted by a pile of documents on the coffee table. You stop, picking up the corner to read one. They're about the case, about all the labs that might be involved in the experiments.

Well... you can read just one. It seems like Hood's compiled a lot of information on his own.

You stand for a bit until your legs grow tired. Then you sit on the couch, making notes of what you do and don't know on a nearby writing pad.

"Did you get lost?"

Hood's watching you, leaning against the wall. It's weird to see his bare arms. His very sculpted, muscled arms. You think you peek a tattoo on his bicep.

"My attention was caught," you say, unrepentant. "Anyway, there's a lot of stuff I haven't seen. You've been holding out on me, Red."

"'S just theories, mostly. Didn't feel it was relevant to mention without hard proof."

"Ever hear of a work-life balance?" you ask.

Hood walks over and joins you on the couch, making the cushion dip. You bump shoulders briefly, before you move.

"Look who's talking, Pulitzer prize," he says.

"That's a very reasonable goal, and I'm not obsessed with it. You're just a workaholic. I have activities outside of wo—oh my God, work!"

You shoot up from the couch, panicked. "Fuck. Fuck! I haven't shown up in two days! I'm—"

"Hey, easy," Hood says, propping his socked feet up on the coffee table. "I called you out. Said you had the flu. No biggie."

"How did you call me out?"

He shrugs. "Pretended to be your boyfriend. Girl on the line was kinda rude about it. Didn't believe me at first."

"Red, I believe we've talked about these invasions of privacy."

"I'm just fulfilling my host duties. Is it true you haven't taken a day off in two years?"

You sigh. "Yes, okay? Fine. I'm a workaholic, too. That's why Jane, the secretary you spoke to, was so sassy about my having a boyfriend. It's pretty unbelievable."

"That's ridiculous. You could totally get a boyfriend. Some guys don't mind that."

"Like you?"

Hood tilts his head in acknowledgment. "Sure. Like me."

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly most men."

"And thank God for that."

You look at each other for another moment. Hood's tattoo is in clear view now: it's a bird surrounded by flowers. You can't tell the species of either one.

"Cool tattoo," you say, your tongue feeling too big for your mouth.

Hood turns his arm so the ink is hidden. "Thanks."

"Right." You start to walk backwards. "I think... I'm gonna go to bed."

"Sure," he says. "If y'need anything, holler."

"'Kay. Thank you for dinner. You're a great cook."

"You flatterer."

You smile. "Gotta stay in the Red Hood's good graces."

You start to walk away.

"Do you—waffles?"

You stop and turn. "Sorry?"

"I, uh... do you like waffles? For breakfast," he says. He rubs his thumb and forefinger together. Nervous habit.

"I love waffles for breakfast."

Hood nods. "Great. Good. Then I'll... we'll have those."

"Please don't wake up early just to make breakfast, Red."

"You're my guest. I'll do whatever I want."

You don't recall the prospect of waffles ever making your heart hammer in your chest. Weird.

"Right. Well, goodnight," you say.

"G'night, smarty."

****

You turn the case details in your mind over and over. It's better than thinking about beef bolognese and peeks of skin you shouldn't see and how Hood's sheets smell like lavender.

But you fall asleep thinking about robins. You don't know why. You can't recall ever seeing a robin in Gotham.

You're on a rooftop. It's the roof you met Hood on, all those months ago. There's a robin nesting with its babies on the crumbling bricks.

The sky is a sick shade of green. You see horrible faces in the shadows on the roof.

That face from the night of the attack returns. He's hideous. You remember the stench of his breath, the way his eyes bulged. He grins at you across the roof.

"He should've killed me when he had the chance," he says, voice distorted.

You look around. The robin is gone. Blood drips from your stomach.

You turn and your attacker is there, inches away. He plunges the knife into you again and again. You can't move. This is it. You will die.

You wake up to wet cheeks. You're hot, and you're screaming. You've died.

A cool, rough hand grabs your arm and you fight because you can't die, you won't die. Not today.

"Hey. Hey, hey! It's me, 's J—Hood. It's Hood."

The room is almost entirely dark, save for a sliver of light from the cracked curtains. You can't make out his face. His voice is different. Clearer. He's without his helmet.

You reach out and feel soft hair. The curve of a neck. A bicep. A warm, bare chest.

"Sure, honey. Cop a feel if that makes you feel better," he murmurs.

Your face screws up and you start to cry.

"Shit," Hood whispers. "Shit, shit. Can't get the comforting thing right, can I?"

The bed dips with his weight. Arms wrap around you. You launch yourself into those arms, that solid chest.

"He g-got me in the dream," you choke out. "He killed us, Red. I'm so scared."

"Nobody's getting me or you. I promise."

Hood's jaw is smooth. His hands are big on your back, rubbing circles. His bare knee bumps yours.

You clutch him tighter. He hums.

"'S okay," he says. "It's alright. I got ya. He can't hurt you. I'd tear apart anyone who tries."

He lets you cry for several minutes, petting you all the while. Hood's body is warm, almost unnaturally so, but his hands are cool. He engulfs you completely.

You wonder what color his hair is. His eyes. What shape his nose is. His... lips.

"God, I'm a terrible guest," you mumble after you've caught your breath. "Fuck. I'm so sorry to wake you."

He hums, the sound going through your chest. "Don't worry. I don't sleep much. And you're not the worst guest I've had. My brother stayed with me for a few days last month. That was hell."

"You have a brother?"

"Four, actually. And a sister."

"Wow. Do they know you're...?"

"Yeah. It was a whole thing. They're over it now."

"Cool family."

Hood grunts. "They're... something."

You smile and close your eyes. "You're not who I thought you were, Red."

"Yes, I know. Friendless and illiterate."

You pinch his side. He clucks his tongue in response.

"Cheeky," he says, the gravel in his voice shooting down your spine like lightning.

You pull back, suddenly aware of how long you've been touching him. Hood lets you have your space, scooting to the edge of the bed.

"You know what I mean," you say, glad it's dark and Hood can't see your wide eyes. "Not like that."

"I know. You thought I was a monster, ugly and alone, sleeping in a cave."

Blindly, you reach for his face, feel the shape of his jaw, his chin.

"Doesn't feel like an ugly face to me," you say quietly.

He exhales like you punched the air out of him.

"Trust me," he says. "The dark hides a lot."

You frown and pull away. "I didn't think any of those things, Red. I thought... I thought you were one-track minded. Now I realize that you're probably better adjusted than I am."

"Oh no, I got issues. Believe me. Definitely more than you. Not that it's a competition. 'Cept if it was, I'd win."

You smile. "Title is all yours, big guy. Gotta be a little crazy to do what we do."

"Sure. But you're the bravest soul I know. 'Cause you weren't forced into this. You hunted down the story yourself."

"Brave or stupid?" you ask.

"Brave. But it's a fine line."

Nope. It's definitely more stupid than not, clinging to the Red Hood in his own bed in the name of a case.

What are you doing?

"Ah, anyway." The bed shifts as Hood stands. You can just barely make out the shape of him. "You probably won't be going back to sleep any time soon, huh?"

You sigh. "No, probably not. Please feel free to take back your bed."

"Nice try. You, uh... like hot chocolate?"

"Oh. Yes, I do. But you don't have to do that."

"I've been awake," he says. "No trouble. C'mon."

Hood walks to the door and opens it. Light spills out and for a moment, you have a clear view of his back.

His hair is dark and wavy. His back is covered in silver scars and fresh bruises, broad and muscled. You can see the tendons shift as he walks out.

The Red Hood is a man. Made of flesh and blood. Carved, more like.

Your belly flutters. Fuck.

This is no longer just you working a case. And you're about as far from an informant as anyone can be.

#Jason todd x reader #Jason todd x you #Red Hood x reader #Red Hood fanfiction #red Hood x you #Jason todd fanfiction #Jason todd imagine #red Hood imagine #batman fanfiction #batman imagine #jason todd x yn #red Hood x yn #gender neutral reader #inbox #blurb

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vitaminseetarot · 6 months

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PAC Pick a Ride: Your Next Big Adventure 🌌🌠🌃

Thank you for voting in my latest poll! I'm surprised and glad to see that Next Big Adventure won by a landslide! Seeing as we have the New Moon in Sagittarius on the 12th, it makes sense that we are collectively interested in seeing what the next chapter has in store. Please note that some of these other topics mentioned in my polls may appear in future pick a card readings, so stay tuned.

So without further ado, let's get into our piles! Pretend as though you are a Knight from your favorite tarot deck about to embark on your next journey. Please choose your mode of transportation:

1 - Plane 2 - Ship 3 - Motorbike 4 - Train

Pile 1 - Plane

Cards: Re-Evaluate, Pencil Sketch, The Pilgrim, Ceres - Nurture, Patience, 26. Protection - Finding What's Important; I Magician, 10 of Pentacles, 4 of Pentacles, XIX The Sun Channeled Locations: Canada, Singapore, Morocco, Ukraine, Australia, Philippines, UK, New Zealand, NYC, South Korea

Hi pile 1, you've chosen to travel by air, bypassing all the long troublesome routes. After all, the sky's the limit! Isn't it nice to measure your distance by how the crow flies sometimes? You're ready to catapult yourself into the next big adventure; I can tell there's a lot of excitement to see what's ahead here. You'd rather get to the next phase of your life instantly yet with ease. This is likely the pile with big career goals, especially if moving or actual traveling will be in the big picture. Maybe you're dreaming of traveling by plane as part of your future dream job? You don't just want to get there, as great as that is--it has to be done with intention.

You're in the process of drawing out what your next life would look like. The future seems full of creative possibilities, but with Pencil Sketch next to Re-evaluate, you're being asked to pay attention to the details. How do you want things to go one month from now, and one year from now? As great as it would be to have an entire decade mapped out, it's unrealistic, but it doesn't mean you can't draft some concepts. You should have something in mind, though, instead of setting out with a knapsack and praying for the best. If your next career or long term project could be anything you wanted, are you going to hop into something for 10 years that doesn't end up panning out in your favor, or would you rather delicately test something for a year before diving in? Moving forward can be exciting, but if you're going by plane, you will need some coordinates.

I think your reading is super straightforward, pile 1. You've got a lucky edge going for you with the tarot cards here. Whatever kind of career goal you have in mind, you may have a chance to "make it big" at some point. That won't come without a lot of foresight and careful investment, however. Don't try to rush into any big decisions right off the bat. I occasionally see the Magician card as the one signifying "read between the lines". If any contracts get involved, be very careful and read thoroughly. Don't be afraid to ask questions or seek clarification. The ones giving you the contact would rather see you jump in it blind, but you've got the crafty Magician energy to help you out during this retrograde period.

As eager as you are to begin your next journey, you're being asked to consider what you want to grow over the long term. This reading wants to shift the focus away from the end goal, even if there's a message here about acting with intention. Setting intention doesn't mean straying away from the present moment to only consider what happens in the end. Part of paying attention to detail means being aware and present in what's happening around you. The present moment is a crucial aspect of your growth period, and it wants you to gently guard after and care for your goal as though it were a plant. You know the fruit of the plant will be ready to eat when it's there and fully ripened, but in the meantime you can enjoy its flowers and fresh budding leaves.

Enjoy the gentle growth process, because once you do start to take off, you may be shocked by how high you'll find yourself in mere seconds. The initial lift of the plane as it begins to run with the sky can give you a wonky feeling like your whole world is shifting and moving with you. Your sense of time can change, requiring adjustment. If you're unprepared, the change could feel overwhelming. Make sure that by the time you're ready for that big takeoff in your work or projects, you will have built up a solid foundation to ground you once you're ready to come back down to earth. That's how you'll build lasting success in your life's next adventure. Stay optimistic, because that positive shift could come sooner than you think!

Pile 2 - Ship

Cards: Limitless, Calla, The Alchemist, 10. Capricorn - Achieve, Express Love, 11. Invention - Burning with Passion; X Wheel of Fortune, 4 of Wands, VII Chariot, 10 of Swords Channeled Locations: India, Greece, Ethiopia, Thailand, Spain, Iceland, Turkey, Croatia, South Africa

The seas are calling you, pile 2, calmly asking you to take only what's truly needed with you. The water's may be choppy, but out in the expansive blue seas, you can feel connected to the coasts of the entire world. With a firm grasp of the ship's wheel, you designate yourself captain as you adjust your sails and set your sights for the hidden treasure that lies ahead--or perhaps beneath your anchor. You're entering your next big adventure lit up with grand ideas for what to do all laid out on your map. Over the vast horizon, anything could happen, and you could find yourself shaking hands with anybody new. This pile may be seeking proposals or offers of some kind, ones that will let you dream bigger than you have before. This pile likely has a good idea of where to go next, or at least some interesting things written down.

These cards ask you to make peace with some aspect of your past. It could be that whatever you had planned before didn't entirely work out in your favor. As much as the online community talks about how rejection is divine protection, sometimes having plans fall apart is not going to feel good, even when you're just glad it's over with. The worst thing can be the feeling of not knowing what to expect after a fall. But your next chapter is showing a lot of promise in things to come, so don't let your past be the omen of your future. The tides are turning right now, and if you can focus on what you'd like to accomplish next, you'll be able to shift those tides in your favor. The first step is to see that you've survived the bad times, and that in itself makes you a victor. With that, you can move ahead with more confidence than before.

That's the thing about Capricorn energy: it thrives in conditions that others would consider too harsh or demanding. It's the drive to take the roughest materials and make diamonds from them. Once you can decide to make peace with what you've gone through, you can take the nuggets of wisdom you've garnered to make a beautiful new path for yourself. You dissolve the worst of your experiences and bring them together to make it better, as the Alchemist card suggests. The difficult times and failed attempts were not for waste; you've gained a lot of valuable growth that will provide a smoother current toward success in your next endeavor. This could be the pile that wants to start a business. Please know that simply starting a business, or even taking the first steps to plan one, takes a lot of guts already. If you've managed to go that far, congratulations! It takes a lot of hard work for a new business to be survive the long haul. So celebrate your milestones, no matter how small they seem.

Part of what makes this next chapter so fortuitous for you is how the energy is transiting through. You could be hit with a wave of inspiration from out of nowhere. If you've been stuck in one place without any wind to carry you through the fog, be prepared for that big splash! All hiccups set aside, you're still brimming with a lot of zeal for your next idea. You may even receive a cascade of insight, so be sure to write these things down as they come. You never know if something silly and small could end up helping you out later on. Your next big adventure is going to put the spark back in you, with a feeling of having a second chance at life, as Calla lilies represent rebirth. Don't be afraid to get excited over what's to come, pile 2. Your faith that things will work out for the better is contagious, as is your gratitude for the accomplishments you've made so far.

Pile 3 - Motorbike

Cards: Breathe, Snowboard, The Heir (Rx), 5. Leo - Shine, Balance, 21. Resilience - Finding Your Limits; 6 of Cups, Queen of Cups, Page of Wands, XIII Death Channeled Locations: Mexico, Italy, Midwest US, France, Norway, Egypt, Chile, Brazil

Your pile is like the fiery passion of the wands suit. Independent and bold, you chose to take open road for your next adventure, blazing a new path in front of your very eyes. You have an eagerness to take the world by storm, going wherever your first impulse wishes to carry you. This pile has a lot of drive to move forward to the next chapter with as much speed as possible, optimistic to find that next golden opportunity. And you're not afraid of a little showboating along the way. You even have the Snowboard palette card, which is a sport involving nothing but speeding down slopes and catching incredible air. This pile is the most excited for their next adventure.

Except actually, pile 3, you're being asked to slow down a little bit. And I get it! I get that this message can be so frustrating when you see what looks to be an endless highway yet the speed limit says 55. That might be a good pace for many folks, but for this pile it's not nearly enough! The thing to keep in mind is that this process of moderating your pace is for your overall benefit. See, you have the only reversed archetype card in all the piles. The card speaks of untapped potential, which is still there. It's simply saying that whatever you're seeking to do next, you're not totally ready because there is too much you're still carrying with you. To go with the motorbike analogy again, any leftover baggage from your past is going to weigh you down so it's in your benefit to review what you have before you can move forward. The more you let it go, the faster you'll be able to pick up the pace.

You have a lot to be proud of with how far you've come already. This pile likely thrives on challenges and sees overcoming them as a big part of spiritual development. Which can be true in many cases, and you demonstrate clearly that you're not afraid of what's to come next. It may come as a shock to you that your next chapter might be a little more quiet than expected. This is likely because, if you've gone through a lot of growth in your last chapter, it makes sense to have some downtime to balance things out. The Queen of Cups can be introverted energy, but she knows how to use her alone time to replenish her soul with art and meditation. You may have more time to spend by yourself steeped in creative drive rather than trying to accomplish too many things in the outer world.

This is one of the more spiritually oriented piles; over this next big phase in your life, your creative skills may flourish and evolve to another level. Maybe for a while you've been inclined towards artistic pursuits, but feel a desire to expand upon what you're already doing. With this energy, you're in alignment to have more time and energy to devote towards passions like painting, sports, or music. In this way, you can take that immense enthusiastic drive from the Page of Wands and channel it into something constructive or purposeful, even if you don't intend to monetize it.

Your next big adventure is tackling the speed limits that exist within you: the self imposed beliefs that tell you how fast you can go or where you're allowed to proceed. Thing is, in your inner world, you have a lot more freedom than you would on any highway. You can choose for yourself how you wish to manifest your passions into the world, and you can decide how much or how little passion you put into your work. Things like imposter syndrome can be their own mountains to climb, and this time around you're more geared up than ever to take it on. Once the spiritual mountains have been overcome, you'll be able to top anything the next chapter in life brings you.

Pile 4 - Train

Cards: Nucleus, Billiard Green, The Gambler, 44. Sixth House - Sustainability, Trust, 1. Vision - Contemplating the Future; XVIII The Moon, 10 of Wands, 3 Cups, XV The Devil Channeled Locations: West US, Sweden, Japan, Czech Republic, Netherlands, Slovenia, China, Germany, Switzerland

You've picked the solid, earthy pile of moving forward to your next adventure by train. Locomotion is slow but it's steady and reliable with time. Fully embodying the principles of inertia, once it moves it keeps moving, but it takes a lot of initial effort to get things going. Something you've worked on is slow going, but you're close or nearing the finish line. Once this is accomplished, things will move much more smoothly for you without so much push. Your next chapter will be steady, but it will be easier than before because it's already in motion.

I find this pile intriguing, y'all. You have Gambler above the Billiard card, and the Devil card shows a casino as well. It's almost bringing to mind old train heist movies. There's action, adventure, mystery, and a lot of fun here in this pile. Your next big adventure could involve having more chances to go out and have fun with friends. You could meet new friends around this time who will have a lot of extra pep in their step. They'll get you out of your shell if you've been in one for a while. Alternatively, if you see yourself as a party loving daredevil already, this new friendship may slow you down and protect you a little, in a good sense. They'll either be the head to your heart, or the heart to your head.

This pile is definitely more inclined to go with the flow in the next chapter. I almost typed 'glow' on accident, so perhaps you'll also experience basking in a 'glow' of some kind. You could be overcoming a huge obstacle at this time and look forward to more unstructured down time. You're encouraged to take time to enjoy yourself before moving to the next phase, but to also balance it out by taking moments to see where you'd rather go next. It's easy, after a huge achievement, to lose pace once the "now what?" sign is reached on your path. Go-with-the-flow doesn't necessarily mean 'fuck around and see what happens', lol. Try to find a middle ground here between playing and planning.

Your work-life balance will likely have some kind of pressure valve released like steam. You've had to really push for what you wanted this year. When opportunities looked scant, you had to tap in to your own power and immense resources to pull through. You've done so in flying colors. So your desire for freedom and thrills after a hard chapter is totally understandable. If you're not finished with something, there's almost a temptation here to run from it now and deal with it later. This isn't recommended; push through to the end because soon you will find yourself on the other side basking in the glow, and relaxing will be so much easier once you're fully done.

There's also advice to not get too carried away with material desires here. Your next chapter may have your finances fluctuating up and down, so try to stay steady with investments. If a windfall comes in, don't spend it all in a day. The Trust card here is talking about how you trust yourself with your resources and energy. When you're able to carry a greater amount with more responsibility, more will be added to you in due time. You're being asked to make small and consistent investments with wherever you're putting your value and resources into. Nothing wrong with wanting to splurge on something nice of course, especially if you've been working hard and you want to reward yourself. This is more to do with long term investments over the next few years.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2023, @VitaminseeTarot ™

Decks Used: Tarotwave, Starcodes Astro Oracle, Citadel Oracle, StarDragons, Opal Oracle, Starlight Messages, Color Palette cards

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ahummingbirdwitch · 2 months

Text

Fantasize (Cypher x F!Reader)

Summary: After a long day, you find yourself in need of some relief, and who better to fantasize about than the agent you're crushing on?

Pairing: Cypher x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,639

Warnings: female masturbation, vaginal fingering, sexual fantasy, p in v sex, voyeurism

Notes: Welp. The masked man wormed his way into my brain and made me write this. I've never played Valorant and I'm not super well-versed on the lore, but I did my best to work off of what I know and existing theories about Cypher and his past!

I fantasize about it all the time

If you were mine

I’d give this pussy to you 9 to 5

5 to 9…

~ ~ ~

You collapsed onto your bed, exhausted.

Freshly showered and sore from a hard day’s work, nothing sounded better than curling up in your quiet room and getting some well-deserved rest. And, if you were being honest, there was something else you’d been meaning to do; something that could very well relieve you the most—and calm your restless mind.

For the last month since you’d joined Valorant, you’d met many agents, each one captivating in their own right. But one agent in particular had captivated you the most.

Cypher.

The masked man from Morocco, the information broker whose face had never been seen by anyone in the agency. Every agent in Valorant had secrets, but Cypher had the most by far. He was enigmatic, impossibly clever, and seemed to know everything about everyone. He’d known you by name before you’d even introduced yourself to him, and in the short time you’d been with the agency, you’d become more than familiar with his ways—the little things he remembered about others, the watchful eye he kept on his fellow agents. No one knew anything about him other than his real name—Amir El-Amari—and his unwillingness to reveal his identity to anyone.

He was a complete mystery, and he had drawn you in completely.

You remembered your first meeting with him clearly. He’d been standing to one side of the room, nonchalant with arms folded, and said your full name before you’d spoken it yourself. You’d been stunned at first, but before you could turn accusatory, he had laughed. “I’m sorry,” he’d said, his voice softening. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He had then uncrossed his arms enough to wave to you with one hand. Despite the mask that concealed his features, the look on his face had seemed almost gentle. “I am Cypher. Pleased to meet you.”

Your initial shock had faded, replaced with something else—something you couldn’t quite understand at the time, something that made your heart thrum unexpectedly in your chest. And that strange feeling, you’d realize in the coming weeks, would only grow stronger.

On missions, you were often put on the same team as Cypher, and you’d come to know him more than you thought you would. At least, you’d come to know the side he showed to others. He was polite, easygoing, frequently cracking jokes and making fun wherever he could. He liked to stimulate his brain, particularly with chess and gadgeteering. He kept a level head in times of crisis, acting as a leader when necessary. He always had the team’s back, and, perhaps surprisingly, he was kind.

It would’ve been easy for you to write him off as a trickster, a spy who cared for no one but himself, who had no regard for anyone’s privacy. While it was true that he knew more than he should, and sometimes intruded on his allies’ personal lives, you’d learned quickly that he was not an uncaring man—far from it, in fact. He was never rude or crass. His jokes had no cruelty behind them. He was an attentive listener, occasionally even providing advice. It was clear he had boundaries, and there were lines he would never cross, despite his line of work.

You’d wondered endlessly about his past. There was so much about himself he kept hidden, so much you wanted desperately to know. What kind of life had he known before joining the agency? How could he be so secretive, yet so considerate? What kind of pain had he experienced? Had he had a family before? Who was Nora?

You shook your head, bringing yourself back to the present. There were so many questions you wished you could ask him, but you knew he would never answer them. He was a mystery, one you might never unravel.

In spite of all that, though, you’d fallen for him.

It wasn’t wise to have feelings for your fellow agent, especially one like Cypher, but there was no denying it, and no helping it. Your heart jumped whenever he entered a room, and fluttered at the sound of his voice. You went out of your way just to try and impress him on missions, always keeping as close to him as you could. You savored those brief moments where your eyes would lock with his, or his hand might make contact with yours when passing you a weapon. Your spirit soared whenever you made him laugh, and you were always thinking of all the ways you could make him do it again.

It was probably the hardest you’d ever crushed on someone, and it was torture.

It was bad enough you both worked together, but on top of that, you were sure Cypher would never want you. He would never reveal his identity to anyone, let alone you. He was older, and had been with the agency far longer. He was always busy, caught up in an assignment or working away at something alone in his room. And then there was Nora, a name you’d heard him utter once or twice under his breath. Curious, you’d asked around about her; some agents theorized she was his wife, either dead or simply no longer around. There was no way you could know for certain, but whoever she was, it was clear he was still hung up on her.

You closed your eyes, sighing heavily. You didn’t want to think about any of that. Right now, you just needed to let go.

Climbing under the covers, you laid back against your pillow, then carefully slid your panties down to your ankles. Spreading your legs, you lifted one hand, guiding it tentatively between them. You swallowed, feeling the same anxiety you’d felt the last time you’d done this. This still felt so dirty, so wrong, but when you pictured Cypher in your mind, blue eyes glowing against the black of his mask, you felt yourself start to relax. You rarely did this, but tonight, you needed it.

Slowly, you eased your hand lower, and let your imagination take control.

You were pressed back against a wall, Cypher standing over you. You couldn’t read his expression, but the desire in his voice betrayed his emotions. “I want you,” he murmured, gazing down at you. “Right now.”

Your fingers found your entrance, already slick from just those few words. Biting your lip, you teased your slit.

Cypher brought his hand to your face, stroking your lower lip with a gloved thumb. You opened your mouth for him instinctively, and he chuckled. “I want to kiss you,” he said softly. “May I?”

You nodded without question. “Y-Yes.”

His eyes gleamed. With his free hand, he reached for the bottom of his mask, pulling it up just enough to reveal the lower half of his face. His lips curled into a smirk, then he was moving forward and kissing you all at once.

Your thumb brushed your clit, and you began to rub at it, continuing to tease your opening with your fingers.

Cypher’s kiss was shockingly fierce, and utterly mind-numbing. Moving his hands to your waist, he slipped his tongue into your mouth, swallowing the gasp that rose from your throat. You met his tongue with your own, kissing him back with matching fervor.

Thumb still working your clit, you dipped the tip of one finger inside your entrance. You needed more; you needed to speed this up.

In the blink of an eye, Cypher had unzipped your pants and pushed them down. Trailing kisses down your neck, he used his fingers—inexplicably ungloved—to caress your clothed pussy. “Oh, what’s that?” he said with interest. “Seems someone is wet for me.”

You grasped at his coat. “Cypher. Please.”

You felt him grin against your neck. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he purred. “I know what you want.” Slowly, deliberately, he slid one finger under the hem of your panties, then plunged it inside you.

At the same time, you parted your folds with your own finger, pushing it in deep. You let out a soft moan when you curled it inside you, finding that familiar sweet spot.

Cypher sucked on your ear, pumping his finger in and out of you. “That’s a good girl,” he cooed. “What pretty sounds.”

You whimpered.

“Make some more for me.”

You moaned louder, unable to stop yourself.

“Dirty girl,” he teased. “So wet already and I’ve barely started.”

You clenched around your finger. You could hear how wet you were, the sounds of your pleasure muffled only slightly by the covers. Just as you prepared to add a second finger, you decided to speed things along once more.

You were completely naked now, while Cypher was still clothed (you realized you’d never seen even a hint of his skin, but that didn’t matter). His pants undone at the waist, he hoisted you up by your thighs, hitching them around him as he pressed into you. “Come here,” he growled before pushing inside you swiftly.

You arched your back, grinding against your palm as you fingered yourself, imagining it was his cock spearing you open. How big was he? Fuck, he had to be big. Even if he wasn’t, though, you wouldn’t care. You just wanted him. You needed him.

Cypher groaned into your ear, starting slow with his thrusts, then fucking up into you like an animal. “So tight,” he gasped. “Oh, so tight for me.”

You were moaning more than ever now, losing yourself to the feeling of being full. You wished you could hear him moan with you, feel his body on yours. You wanted to kiss those lips. See his face. He was so handsome under that mask, you were sure of it.

Cypher bit down on your neck, forcing you to cry out. “Yes, that’s it,” he coaxed when he came up for air. “That’s it, sweetheart. I want to hear you.”

You threw your head back, moans falling from your open mouth. “Cy… Cypher…”

“Call me by my name, my love.”

Your body jerked, reacting to his voice in a way you couldn’t even control. “A-Amir,” you whimpered. “A-Amir, please—”

“Just like that,” he whispered, gripping your thighs harder. “Yes. I know you’re close.”

You were. Two fingers knuckle-deep and your thumb at your clit, you were ready to burst. Just a little more, and you’d be right there, right there. “A-Amir,” you pleaded. “I—I need you—”

“I need you to cum,” he panted. “Can you do that for me? Hm?”

“Mm—mhm,” was all you could get out, ferociously rubbing at your clit. You knew you sounded ridiculous, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything right now. These walls weren’t thin, but you wouldn’t give a shit if they were. You didn’t even care if Cypher himself had mics in your walls, and he could hear every sound you were making. You just needed him. You needed to cum.

Cypher leaned in, panting like a dog, thrusting into you even harder and faster. “Cum for me,” he breathed. “Cum for me now.”

That was all you needed. The cord within you snapped and your vision went starry. You shut your eyes as you came, whining uncontrollably. “Cy—Cypher,” you blurted out, moaning long and loud. You couldn’t stop the words from escaping you. “I love—I-I love you—I—mm—”

You continued to moan as you rode out your orgasm, keeping your fingers still deep inside while your body spasmed with pleasure. By the time you could feel yourself calming, the trembling in your limbs fading to a dull buzz, you were unsure how much time had passed. You felt utterly numb, your heart racing and your chest heaving as you caught your breath.

You exhaled, leaning back against your pillow. You did feel better. Touching yourself to the thought of Cypher had brought you relief—just like you’d wanted. There was still a part of you that felt guilt, felt dirty at what you’d done, but you suppressed it.

No one knew, and no one would know. Cypher kept so many secrets, why couldn’t you keep this one for yourself?

You got up and washed your hands, then brushed your teeth and returned to bed. You nestled deep under the covers, closing your eyes as you prepared for sleep to take you. You’d worked hard today. You deserved to rest.

As you drifted off, you completely forgot that you’d confessed your love to the Cypher in your mind.

~~~

Elsewhere, in a secluded room in the dormitory, Cypher was wide awake.

Unmasked, and dressed only in light clothes, he sat at his desk in the darkness, watching the cameras as he did every night. There was a single camera for each Valorant agent, along with its own mic and recording device, positioned in the most secure, hidden place possible in every individual room. He recognized the invasiveness of it. He didn’t take pleasure in keeping tabs on his allies in this way, but it was necessary. He would do all he could to ensure he kept the upper hand, even if it meant spying on those he considered his friends. He had been through too much to let anyone take advantage of him.

For some time now, he had been scanning the cameras, studying each agent as they wound down for the night, and something in particular had caught his eye.

You.

You, coming out of your bathroom in nothing but a t-shirt and panties. The moment he’d noticed you in your state of undress, he’d averted his gaze, waiting for you to either leave the frame or cover yourself up. When you’d finally crawled into bed, he’d been content to turn his attention to other screens, but then your mic had picked up some… telling audio.

You’d started to touch yourself.

Cypher was not a stranger to the female body. He’d been with women, been married to one. Countless times, he’d been at his desk and witnessed female agents—and male agents, for that matter—masturbate. Whenever it happened, he always turned away, often shutting off their mics as well to at least give them some extra privacy. Some agents did it more frequently than others, and he had even grown accustomed to their routines for it. But you…

Well… you didn’t do it very often, that was for certain.

You were new to the agency. Young, spry, full of confidence. When he’d first met you, he was sure he knew exactly what you’d be like. He knew your type—hell, plenty of the better-established younger agents were just like you. But in all honesty, in the month since your arrival, he’d learned there was more to you than met the eye. He was surprised to still be peeling back layers of your personality even now, when normally, he would have had someone thoroughly pinned down. There was always new information to be drawn from others, yes, but even so, you continued to intrigue him.

Cypher had heard you touch yourself only once or twice before; only faint noises coming from your bathroom had made him aware of the act. He’d been certain that the next time you did it, you would do it in the same place, but for some reason, you had chosen your bed instead tonight. As was your right, certainly. But regardless, he had not been expecting it.

He’d shut off your mic without thinking, lingering on the image of you in your bed for just a heartbeat before quickly tearing his eyes away. There was something about this that unsettled him, made him uncomfortable in a way that was unfamiliar. There was nothing unnatural to him about masturbation; he did it himself, when he was most in need of it. But something about seeing you do it—you, his sweet, sincere teammate—made him feel almost… ashamed. Like he was violating you.

He understood the necessity of keeping an eye on the agency, knowing he could never fully turn off the cameras in the rooms, but for whatever reason, he wished he could turn yours off now, at least for a little while. He didn’t want to see you in such a vulnerable state. He didn’t want to commit your expression of pleasure to his memory, imagine what sounds you could be making…

Cypher rubbed his eyes now, blinking rapidly as he cleared his thoughts. He had to focus. He had to make sure everyone was asleep before he too allowed himself to rest. He would wait until you finished.

But then… how could he be sure when you would finish if he couldn’t hear you?

A strange feeling nagging at him, he turned back to your screen. Though your lower body was concealed by your covers, he could see your movements underneath, and could see clearly what you were doing. No doubt, you were fingering yourself.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry. He kept watching, unable to look away from your mouth, ever opening and closing. You were still muted, but he didn’t need audio to know you were moaning. Of course you were. Everyone did when they self-pleasured. But then, unexpectedly, he saw you form a word.

No—a name.

A name? Whose name? Questions flooded his mind. If you were uttering someone’s name in this state, did that mean you had… feelings for them? Was it an agent? Was it someone on the outside?

Cypher tried not to dwell on it. This was your business; your moment of privacy. It didn’t matter to him whether you had feelings for someone, agent or not. It was nothing. It was just—information. Useless information—right?

But then again, if he had it… maybe he could use it.

Before he could change his mind, he turned the audio back on. A second later, his heart dropped when he heard you moan out.

“Cy… Cypher…”

He froze, staring at your screen. No, it couldn’t be…

“A-Amir… A-Amir, please—”

Cypher couldn’t believe his ears. It was… him. It was him you were crying out for. You’d even said his real name—he’d never heard you say it out loud before.

He didn’t understand. You wanted him? Why? Out of everyone in Valorant, why him?

Had he missed something, all those times he had gone on missions with you? He had noticed your enthusiasm when in proximity to him, your noteworthy eagerness to follow his orders, but he had never considered it out of the ordinary. He had always just thought of you as a dutiful agent, eager to prove yourself and gain respect from your more seasoned teammates. Was that not the case? Was the truth that you’d been interested in him all this time?

Your voice severed him from his trance. “A-Amir,” you whimpered. “I—I need you—”

Cypher shifted in his seat, a sudden discomfort between his legs. His name sounded foreign your lips, and yet… sweet. He’d never thought he’d hear you say it, but more than that, hear you say you needed him. You couldn’t mean that. You weren’t thinking—too caught up in your own pleasure. You couldn’t possibly know what you were saying.

He could tell you were getting more desperate now, your hand moving faster under the covers. You had to be close. You gasped, shutting your eyes, then all at once you were coming undone, and he couldn’t look away.

“Cy—Cypher,” you cried out, catching him off-guard. “I love—I-I love you—I—mm—”

Cypher could hardly think as he watched you unravel before him on the screen, your words ringing in his ears.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

The only explanation was that you had lost yourself. Why else would you say something as bold as that without thinking? You didn’t love him. You couldn’t love him.

There was nothing about him you could possibly want. He guarded his secrets more fiercely than anyone. He was so reserved, staying out of the limelight whenever he could. He’d kept his identity hidden for years, carefully cultivating the persona he would allow people to see. You’d never even seen his face.

And yet… it was his name you’d uttered when you came. It seemed you had fallen for him anyway.

No. No… you hadn’t. It wasn’t possible. You didn’t want him, and you certainly didn’t love him. Love was knowing someone, knowing all of their secrets and foulest parts. It was something deep and potent, and only grew with time. It was what he’d had with Nora, before he’d lost her and everything else.

You had not been in your right mind, that much was certain. Maybe you liked him, liked the person he presented himself as, but you didn’t know him. No one did, and no one truly would. He liked you, but… well, not like that. How could he? He was a broken old man, and you were young and lovely, still with hope for the world…

No. No, that wasn’t right.

It didn’t matter. You would go to sleep now, drowsy in the aftermath of your climax, and so would he. You would not remember your confession in the morning. He would, but he would not let it consume him.

This was… nothing. He was sure of it.

Cypher began to rise from his chair, only to be made aware of the painful hardness in his pants. He grimaced, looking back up at your camera. You were wrapped up in your covers, already asleep. You looked so innocent. Peaceful.

… Beautiful.

He hung his head, running one hand through his hair. Oh, sweet girl, he thought. What are you doing to me?

(LET ME KNOW IF Y'ALL WANT A PART 2)

#cypher #cypher valorant #valorant #cypher x reader #ao3 #ao3 writer

100 notes · View notes

corriganatheart · 1 year

Text

if he was MINE / João Félix x reader

Synopsis: You’re secretly in love with your best friend, who is in a toxic relationship.

Pairings: João Félix x fem!reader

Genre: One sided romance, sad story

December 10 2022: Right after Portugal’s Elimination.

Breaking News: Magui Corceiro is spotted clubbing with a mysterious man while boyfriend João Félix gets eliminated from the World Cup.

With an unfazed eye, you scroll through the comments.

He deserves so much better.

At this point bro is doing this to himself because this is getting old.

Isn’t this like the 4th time? Lol

Magui doesn’t give a shit about João Félix's feelings; she knows he’ll forgive her no matter what.

People continue to type out their opinions, which worsens as you scroll down. You are watching from home and is very aware that Portugal got eliminated. When the camera pans to João’s face, your heart shatters from his expression. He was in as much pain as CR7, and you know he was very excited to play for his country but was only disappointed. You wished you could’ve been there, especially now that the news is out, but you thought Magui would be there, so you turned down his offer.

You and João are both aware that Magui doesn’t like you, mainly because you’ve been friends with him since middle school, but you’ve never done anything to harm his relationship. João has had a couple of girlfriends, and all seem insecure because you know him better than them, but he has always chosen you. This was, of course, until she showed up and had his undivided attention.

Magui Corceiro is one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen and, quite frankly, João’s ideal woman. He has always gone for blue eyes and blonde hair, but something about this girl was different; he was actually invested in her and was smitten by her. Your best friend was in love and overly blind too. Their relationship is not healthy, and everyone agrees on that, but João is stubborn and refuses to accept the truth.

When he first introduced you to the girl nearly three years ago, she was very sweet, and you thought for the first time you’d be friends with his girlfriend. But as time passed, she became more possessive and controlling to the point where you went almost a year without speaking to him. Magui was jealous of your friendship with João, and it was the one thing that she couldn’t control because he had told her several times that you’re a long-time friend. And since she can’t ask him to leave his friends, she manipulates him with breakups and male acquaintances of her own. Everything about his feelings for her was real, but she saw it as a tool to manipulate one of the best upcoming players. However, still, João is responsible for how he gets treated, and so far, he has allowed every gaslighting, manipulation, mental abuse, and cheating into his relationship.

You hesitate on whether to call João or not while watching Morocco celebrate their win in the quarter-finals. Your eyes drift to your friend, Hakimi, who looks as happy as ever to win the match. Although you’re upset that Portugal didn’t win, at least one of your friends can continue on the next game.

Your phone dings from the numerous messages from your friends to your family about the video. It was no mistake or misunderstanding. The video showed that she intended to grind on the guy and didn’t care that the camera was on her. You’re sure by now someone has told João of the allegation, and this would only make him more upset. She was supposed to be there for him, cheer him on, and that’s why you didn’t go, but instead, she was in another country with another man.

You go on Instagram, hoping his comments weren’t filled with the scandal, but you should’ve known by now that everyone was on João’s case. His latest Instagram post was filled with Magui’s allegation and how João would never learn his lesson. Even with the hate he gets for staying with her, it has become clear that he won’t leave her. You’ve tried to convince him before, and that only ended with him losing contact with you for months, but your friendship was much more important than your feelings, so you remained silent and helped him when he needed you.

Leaning on your couch, you wait for an incoming call. Morocco had just finished celebrating with their people, and by now, João was probably heading to his hotel. He might even take a flight early to avoid getting crowded the next day at the airport. People can be brutal, and he was trending on Twitter for the wrong reason, and some even blamed his relationships for Portugal’s loss. It was ridiculous, but that’s how the internet works, and sadly his girlfriend added more fuel to the fire, and you can only hope that dancing with the guy was the only thing she did. Groaning from the anxiety, you decided to go for it and dial his number. He picked up on the third ring, and you relaxed a little.

“Hey,” you softly said. You hear a bag zipped before he responds, “Hey you.” You lay down on the couch, saddened by his voice that sounds so broken. “You played well. You gave it your all. I’m so proud of you, João.” He doesn’t respond to that, but you hear stuff being shoved into a bag, and you can only imagine how frustrated he must be and probably wants to come home immediately. “We almost had it, Y/N; I just wanted a chance,” he says, his voice cracking. You imagine being there, pulling him into a hug, and whispering that everything will be ok like you always do. “Why don’t I make you your favorite comfort meal when you return? We’ll have movie nights like usual,” you suggested. You hear another bag being zipped up, and that is it. He was ready to come home. “Yeah, that would be nice.” You smile and refuse to bring up Magui’s situation because this moment is perfect, with no mention of her, just the two of you. “I wish you were here,” he mumbles. You softly smile, cherishing the way he says it. “Yeah, me too.”

Your best friend texts you that he has arrived back early in the morning and is getting some sleep. You smile, excited to see him because you haven’t seen him since he left for Qatar. Many of his teammates were disappointed that you weren’t there, and Georgina has called and threatened numerous times for you to be there, but you had to decline because of Magui. But it was a wrong call on your part because, in the end, she ended up leaving early. You weren’t sure why she wasn’t there for the last game, especially since the Quarter Final is so important, but whatever happened affected his gameplay. You know João more than he knows himself, and you sensed something was wrong with him. During the game, he was off so many times, and his mind was battling between the game and his personal life. Whenever that happens, it is because of his girlfriend, and that’s why his teammates don’t like her. Many of them have expressed their concerns for João because she was such a toxic person, but your best friend is stubborn; he does whatever he wants.

“Hey! Congrats on your game!” You said while making a list of groceries for your movie night. “Hey, hey! Thanks, bud!” Hakimi says, and you notice his kids and wife are in the background as he stables his phone on something. “Hey, how’s João Félix?” He asked, his voice hinting at curiosity and annoyance. “Oh, Ahum, he sounded fine when I spoke to him last night,” you mutter. Hakimi rolls his eyes and lays his head on the couch. “If he stays with her, he will be football's laughingstock.”

You awkwardly laughed, remembering that Hakimi knew your crush on João. It was a drunken mistake that happened during a karaoke night. You, Hakimi, his wife, and a couple of your other mutual friends were celebrating a promotion that ended up with you spilling your deepest secret. Luckily everyone was passed out, and only Hakimi was the only that remembered your words. At first, he teases you about the crush, but after seeing the pain that you go through because of the secret crush, he stops joking about it. “I just don’t understand what goes on in his mind. I mean, he has you around him all the time, and he still chases the one person that is bad for him.” You sighed, hating where the conversation was going. You don’t want people to pity you because you already pity yourself. After spending your entire life being João’s best friend, you’ve realized that you’ll never be anything but a best friend. “Just leave it, Hakimi; I’m sure he already feels like shit,” you mumbled. Hakimi gives you an apologetic look before he glances off somewhere and immediately smirks.

“Hey, my offer still stands, you know,” he said. You rolled your eyes, remembering his offer of setting you up with his best friend. You’ve declined several times, but apparently, his best friend was very persistent and really wants to meet you. “If I were to date someone else, it would have to be outside the football world,” you said, causing him to roll his eyes. “Come on, Y/N, just give him a chance. And I’m sure it’ll also get João Félix thinking,” he wiggles his eyebrows. You thought back to the time João was jealous, which was never since you’ve never been involved with any other guy, so it would be an exciting thing to do. “You know this is your only idea that doesn’t involve me getting sent to jail.” Hakimi gasped and dramatically placed his hand on his chest. “When I told you to teach Magui a lesson, I didn’t mean full-on murder; I meant sending her to a mental hospital because she needs one.” You roll your eyes and tear the sticky notes off and start grabbing your things to go out. “We’ll, Mr. Scandalous, I look forward to your match against Argentina! Good luck!”

You walked down the pasta aisle, trying not to eavesdrop on the people next to you. They mentioned João’s name, so it was pretty hard for you to ignore them. “I heard from a family friend that Magui is dating a soccer player from another team,” the shorter woman tries to whisper. “Poor João Félix, he’s going to end up ruining his career if he keeps involving himself with her.” You frown at the mention of your best friend's career getting damaged. He has to work his ass off to get where he is, so it would be a shame if his reputation gets ruined. “But isn’t João Félix also having an affair with another girl? I heard that Magui only started cheating after he was caught sleeping with his best friend.” You immediately froze, the can in your hand almost falling. It wasn’t news that people know João Félix has a female best friend, but they never speculate about your relationship further than that. João has mentioned several times to the media that you’re his childhood friend, nothing more than that. Eventually, it got old, and people didn’t care about it anymore and became invested in his other private life. “That’s fake news. Would he cheat on a gorgeous actress like Magui with a regular girl? He has standards.” Clenching the can in your hand, you slam it into your cart, causing the women to jump and turn to you. Without looking at them, you push away from them.

Breaking News: João Félix actress girlfriend Magui Corceiro confirms break up with the Portugal football star with an Instagram post of her and a mysterious man.

You read the article Hakimi sent you, eyes glued on the mysterious man. You know the man, who wasn’t mysterious, he was João’s long-time friend. You aren’t sure why she was doing this publicly, knowing damn well people would be judging and talking. Every time she gets caught, she makes an Instagram post denying everything, but this time it was apparent she intends to hurt him. Closing the article, you text Hakimi a shrugged emoji and a good luck text before focusing on making your best friend his comfort meal. By now, João must’ve seen the news and probably been getting numerous calls and texts from his nosy friends, but you know he won’t speak up because he doesn’t want to ruin her already ruined reputation.

Smiling at your preparation, you text João to come over. You’ve made his favorite pasta dish and have some refreshments for the movie nights. You’ve also tried to look good and were excited about seeing him again.

10:30 p.m

Breaking News: Chelsea star João Félix spotted leaving a restaurant with a model. The athlete was thought to be going through heartbreak after girlfriend was spotted clubbing and hanging out with another man, but he had a nice date with a new beauty. Is the Portugal football player finally moving on?

Staring at your phone, you see a couple of tears landing. The pasta you’ve made had been sitting for 3 hours, untouched. When he didn’t read the text or answer your calls, you assumed he turned his phone off due to the scandal. Still, after not hearing from him for two hours, you were scared that he might’ve done something stupid, but just as you were about to flee to his house, the paparazzi photos of him with a girl were everywhere on your newsfeed.

Embarrassed for yourself, you got up and threw the dishes away, and started cleaning up. Out of all the things he could’ve done to get revenge on his ex, he went with this. It was already enough that Magui tarnished his reputation, but he had to make everyone think he was as bad as her. João Félix could’ve told people that he was over this and focused on his career, but instead, he had to be trapped in a toxic relationship that would never leave unless he let go. And from the looks of it, he was not over his relationship with Magui; he wanted her to feel jealous, he wanted her to beg for him to come back, and he still wanted her. Despite being hurt repeatedly, he still wanted her and would never want you.

Slumping down on the cabinet, you hugged your knees and cried. You cried because years of unrequited love had expired, and you needed to move on. He was everything you ever wanted in a guy, and he deserves so much better, but he would never have that respect for himself. You’ve liked him the moment you laid eyes on him when you were 14 and loved him the moment he stood up to the bullies when you were 16. But sometimes you must let go; even if it tears you apart, you must let go.

20 missed calls from The Golden Boy

The Golden Boy: I’m sorry pick up.

The Golden Boy: Pick up please Y/N, I didn’t mean to not show up.

The Golden Boy: what can I do to make it up to you?

The Golden Boy: don’t do this please….

“Y/N! Open the door! It’s been two days; you have to speak to me!”

Rolling your eyes, you glance at the pounding door. João has been banging on your door for seven minutes now, and you’re sure the neighbors will call the cops, but what can you do? He has already ruined his reputation; he might as well go to jail. “Come on, don’t be childish!” Ignoring the remarks, you scroll through your Instagram, filled with nothing but João Félix and his new beau. “Fine, I’ll just have to call your parents,” he threatens. You frown and immediately stand up and head to the door. “Don’t you dare!” You screamed.

“Oh, she’s alive,” he sarcastically says, and you can imagine the smirk on his face. Rolling your eyes, you open the door to reveal your best friend in a hotass outfit. “Hey,” he smirks, but you walk off before you check him out further. “Why are you mad? Look, I forgot, ok?” He said. You aggressively turn around and glare at him, “Well, thanks, João; it makes me feel so much better that my best friend forgot that he made plans with me.” João glares at you, clearly disliking your attitude, as he leans on the wall. “You’re being dramatic. I went out with a girl; wouldn’t you do the same if your ex was fucking your friend?” Crossing your arms, you said, “no, because I would’ve left them when they did it in the first place!” João’s face immediately turned red, angry about your comment. You knew damn well that his insecurity was being cheated on, yet you slapped it in his face. “I don’t deserve your bitchy attitude,” he warns. That only made you angry because he has done much worst. “And I don’t deserve being stood up!”

João glares down at you, frustrated that you aren’t forgiving him like usual. He had stood you up many times before, and you’ve forgiven him every single time. It makes no sense why you would be upset with him all of a sudden. “Look, I’m the one that got cheated on like a piece of trash. I should be the one upset. You’ve told me numerous times to move on, yet you’re getting upset that I was out with someone last night? What kind of friend are you?” Taken aback by his sudden manipulation and no common sense, you frustratedly walk to the kitchen. “I spend so much time cooking for you so you could feel better, you asshole!” You screamed.

“I have been by your side since day one! How can you treat me like an invisible wall? How can you only come to me when you need me?” João stares down at you, upset with your sudden outbursts and confused about your questions. “As a friend, you should fucking understand where I’m coming from!” He yells, “you know how much I love Magui! And if fucking someone else takes the pain away, so be it!” Your eyes roam his, tears filling yours, and only anger was in his. “You don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to ruin your reputation. Someone out there loves you with all of their heart.” João chuckles as he tilts his head back. “Who in this fuck up world could truly love me?”

You stare into his eyes as he stares intensely into yours. In a quick moment, the realization was finally sinking in, and his eyes went from anger to disbelief. “You don’t mean you-“ he pauses and straddles back. Rows of tears start flowing down while staring at him; all these years, he had never thought that you might love him or even thought of being with you. The disbelief and shock only show how little he thought of the chances of you two being together. And once again, he has broken your heart. “I need you to leave,” you mumbled, voice cracking along the way. “Y/N, I didn’t-“ you didn’t let him speak any further because you pushed him away from you. “OUT!”

You cried the rest of the day, embarrassed and disappointed in yourself for being so stupid. You’ve let yourself fall in love with your best friend who had never shown interest in you. João had always treated you as a friend, and you kept hoping he would change his mind or miraculously fall in love with you, but his heart belongs to someone else. And even if he were to accept your heart, his wouldn’t be yours fully. You were selfish to yourself and him, and you needed to move on, even if it meant losing him as a friend.

Wiping your tears, you open your message app and find Hakimi’s name. With a heavy heart, you decided it was time to move on.

1 month later

Breaking news: João Félix's best friend Y/N, who was once caught up in cheating allegations with him, has moved on. She was caught dining with PSG star Kylian Mbappé and was seen leaving the restaurant together, holding hands. Mbappé, best friend of teammate Hakimi, was seen cheering when Morocco beat Portugal in the quarter-final. Could Mbappé hang out with Y/N to add more fuel, or could this actually be a true romance?

Part II: https://www.tumblr.com/corriganatheart/712468039657996288/when-will-you-publish-the-next-part-of-if-he-was

905 notes · View notes

fadedncity · 2 years

Text

wc: 5.2k

pairing: hunter!haechan x hunter!reader

cw: supernatural!au, smut, fem!reader, ex friends/fwb to enemies to fwb again, angst, sex pollen, dubcon(?), weapons, violence, gore, character death (non mcs), masturbation (reader receiving), alcohol consumption, fingering, teasing, pet names, unprotected sex

song rec: hypnotic by zella day | if you let me by sinedad harnett | love me up by etta bond | crave by tove lo

"You want me to what?!"

"Come on, there are worse things," Taeyong tried talking you down.

"I'd rather Lilith drag me to hell herself."

"Okay, now you're just being dramatic. Haechan's not that bad."

"Oh, no, he's just an annoying, pompous asshole."

"I-" before he could get in another word, you cut him off.

"Why can't you just send Sungchan? He's one of the newbies. The experience will be good for him anyway."

"I sent him and Shotaro to Oregon with Yuta to take care of a crossroads demon."

"Jaehyun?"

"Vampire nest in France with Jeno."

"Renjun?"

"Shapeshifter in Morocco."

"Kun?"

"On vacation," Taeyong sighed. "Look, you two are some of the best hunters I know, and I really need you on this case. Both of you."

You knew you couldn't keep standing here bitching over this when the real problem was still at large. People were still getting hurt, and you couldn't let your feelings of anguish toward him get in the way of your job.

You rolled your eyes before sighing, "When do we leave?"

"Been waiting on you."

Looking over your shoulder, you glare at the man standing in the doorway of the room designated to be Taeyong's office. Haechan smirked at you before winking. You scoff, turning back to Taeyong.

"You're gonna owe me," you tell him.

"Wouldn't have asked if I wasn't expecting to," he handed you the file, "Safe trip, you two," Taeyong smiled.

"We're leaving in fifteen," you told Haechan, "And we're taking my car."

Haechan held up his hands like he wasn't gonna argue with you about that, which was surprising, but you quickly brushed past it and Haechan out of the room.

"Haechan." Taeyong called him before he left, "Please don't kill each other and make it back in one piece."

"No promises," Haechan said before leaving.

. . .

The first hour was filled with tense silence between the two of you. Every time Haechan tried to start a conversation, you would shut him down, not wanting to hear anything he had to say.

It wasn't until he picked up the file from Taeyong sitting on your dashboard did you finally let him get some words in since he was actually saying something helpful.

"Says there have been four victims in the last five weeks."

"All the same motive?"

"Yeah, all four of them were drained of their blood. Completely."

"Vampires?"

"No teeth marks were found. So, it's no looking likely."

"Any connection between the victims?"

"No, not that I can tell. Aside from living in the same area code, none of these people had anything in common."

"Great, this makes our job much easier. What about a vengeful spirit? Or demon?"

"Could be. But can't say for sure until we get there."

Haechan closed the file and threw it into the backseat.

He sunk into the passenger's seat, about to change the song playing on the radio before you slapped his hand away.

"My car, my music."

Haechan sucked his teeth, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine. I was gonna try to take a nap anyway."

"Whatever gets you to stop talking."

Glaring over at you one last time, Haechan shifts in the passenger's seat, turning his back to you and shutting his eyes.

Hours have passed, and you've been driving on the dark road with no cars ahead or behind you for miles now. The only thing accompanying you in the darkness was the low hum of music coming from the speakers and Haechan's soft snores.

It didn't even register you had been driving for so long until you started seeing the sun rising from behind the horizon.

Haechan woke up with a stiff neck to find the car at a stop, and you were no longer inside with him. Taking in his surroundings, Haechan realized you had stopped for gas.

You were so spaced out you almost didn't hear him getting out of the car, the slamming of the door bringing your attention to him.

You looked over at the Gemini, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn.

"How much longer do we have to go?" Haechan asks.

"Three more hours."

"Okay, you should let me drive," He tells you.

"No-"

"You've been driving all night. It won't do any good if you fall asleep at the wheel and kill us before we can even get there."

He's right. It irks you, having to admit he's right.

You took the pump out of the tank once it was filled and closed the hatch.

You held out your keys, Haechan ready to take them, but you retracted your hand before he could.

"Be gentle with her. This is my baby."

"Baby," he scoffs, "You know I can be gentle when I wanna be," he says, taking your keys and getting into the driver's side.

You were blaming your lack of sleep on the way his words had an effect on you.

You shook the thoughts away and got back into the car, your eyes shutting almost instantly before Haechan could even pull out of the gas station.

. . .

"Oh, you gotta be fucking with me."

Now, this was an upgrade from your usual shitty motels. There was a couch a full bathroom, a minibar, and a queen-sized bed. One queen-sized bed.

And you have no doubt in mind who was probably responsible for this.

"I'm gonna fucking kill Johnny," you mutter.

"Get in line."

You were expecting to have to flip a coin or something.

"You can take the bed. I'll be fine with the couch," Haechan says, settling his things down.

"Suit yourself," you said happily dropping your things and heading towards the bed practically calling your name.

"I'm gonna shower. Then we can head over to the coroner's office?"

"Fine with me. Wake me if I'm not up in an hour." you say resting your head on the pillow.

The bathroom door closed, and you got comfortable on the bed. It wasn't the most comfortable mattress, the bed springs digging into your back, but you've had worse, so you weren't gonna complain. The sound of the water running was the last thing you remember hearing before your eyes fluttered shut, and you drifted off to sleep again.

. . .

You walked out of the morgue, thoroughly annoyed. And feeling Haechan's unbothered presence was pissing you off even more.

Bad enough that Mark thought it would be a funny enough fucking joke to give you fake badges with the same last name, leading the coroner to assume you were married. And instead of correcting her, Haechan thought it would also be funny to play along and act as if you were.

So while you were actually working, examining the bodies, and trying to figure out what was responsible for the deaths of those four people, Haechan was talking up your fake five-year marriage on the spot with the coroner. You know he's good at this part of the job, but there's no reason for him to be this good.

Haechan loosens his tie walking in tow with you back to your car after you finish your questioning.

"See, that wasn't so bad," Haechan says, and you roll your eyes at him. "Alright, when are you gonna pop this hate boner you have for me?" he asks.

You scoff, "Whenever that big ass ego of yours deflates."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Like you don't fucking know," you mutter.

"Yeah, I fucking don't. So why don't you stop acting like a pouty little brat and just tell me."

You didn't say anything, and Haechan sighed.

"I thought you said you weren't mad about that."

"I'm not but that doesn't mean I have to like you after you did it."

"It was two years ago!"

"And it was fucked up. But it's funny enough you keep showing up whenever you think I'm in need of saving."

"Need I remind you I am the one who quite literally saved you from being that werewolf's late night snack?"

You grumble at him under your breath, walking away.

He tries to keep up with your steps, following you to the car.

"Look, I'm sorry," he said, and you finally stopped, "For everything. I didn't mean to shut you out. I was just...scared," he admits

"Of what? I thought we were both very clear about where we stood."

"And I still cared about you. You know what it's like getting close to something in this line of work," Haechan tells you, "And I wasn't just gonna let you die for the sake of your own ego. You're too good of a hunter for us to lose."

You didn't even think you still held this much anger towards him until now. You didn't want to anymore, seemingly taking this long to get over it. And it would make this job a lot less painful if you weren't stuck thinking about the past.

"Don't try to flatter me now, Donghyuck." You say, a phantom smirk playing on your lips. "You're still an annoying, pompous asshole," you say.

Haechan snickers, putting his hands in his pockets and walking up to you.

"And you're a heartless, whiny little brat," he smirked at your offended expression. He then stepped back and asked, "Wanna grab breakfast?" quickly changing the subject.

"You really wanna eat now?"

"Can't work on an empty stomach," Haechan says, "I'll buy," he offers.

"Fine. But, after, we're going to the crime scenes."

"Yes, Mrs," Haechan teases, laughing when you shoot him another death glare.

. . .

"You okay?" Haechan asks as he enters the run-down house.

"Yeah," you shake the unsettling feeling and follow in behind him, "We're getting close."

"But we still have time. We just need to find her heart and kill her. Simple."

Yeah, simple.

The one thing you hate about witches is how difficult they make it to hunt them. Using glamour spells to appear as whoever they want or hexing five random people as a part of some ritualistic sacrifice trying to raise something much more malicious back from the dead. They're always unpredictable.

"I'll check upstairs," you tell him.

Haechan nods, heading towards the living room to check the first floor, "Hey, Haechan."

"Yeah?" he turns around.

"Don't be stupid and get yourself killed," you say.

He nods again with a smirk, "You too."

Reaching the top of the stairs, you held up your shotgun as you crept down the halls, carefully checking every room you passed. The floorboards croaked under your weight with each step you took.

It was deathly silent; your ears started to ring. You couldn't even hear Haechan downstairs as you reached the end of the hallway.

You pushed the last door open with the barrel of your gun and started looking around. Different plants and herbs were scattered all over the room, and you made sure to stay a safe distance away, not sure what some of them were.

When you found the room was clear, you lowered your weapon and looked around, finding a book that you could only assume was her grimoire, opened to a page.

Careful flipping through the pages, you find the ritual she was trying to perform, only needing a few more things, including one last victim, before it's complete.

Supplies and ingredients were laid out all over the table, most of the things looking unfamiliar since she was using an older method of magic.

Among the items, a box unlocked. The box holding the witch's heart.

"Now, who's the heartless one," you mumble.

"That one's still up for debate," the voice sent a chill down your spine.

You turn around, aiming your gun, but it's too late.

In her true form, thin skin stretched across the witch's face, baring rotting teeth. You could barely see anything else as she wore a tattered black cloak, the hood covering most of her face.

She grabbed the barrel with long bony fingers, making you miss your shot, and shot the wall behind her instead. Before you could reload, she held out her hand, blowing the contents sitting in her palm in your face.

A floral scent invaded your senses, and your nose felt tingly as you inhaled whatever powder she possessed.

You heard the sound of Haechan calling your name, his footsteps rushing to your location as your body hit the floor.

"You both have been very entertaining to watch. You looking at him when he's not paying attention, and him looking at you once you turn away. Ugh! it's just someing about the secret pining that gets me everytime. So beautiful yet…so painful," the witch looks off dramatically into the distance, "But don't worry now, child. I have freed you of your misery." she speaks, smiling widely.

Before Haechan could get a shot, she moved faster than you'd expect, and she's a lot stronger than you's think for a few centuries-old witch.

"Haechan," you weakly called his name.

He was quickly disarmed and he couldn't seem to be able to move.

"Ah, I get what all the fuss is about. He's even cuter up close. I might save him for myself," the witch wickedly grinned, "You'd make a perfect vessel," she caressed Haechan's face.

Her skeletal fingers wrapped around Haechan's throat, squeezing his airway.

Using all the strength you could muster, you reached for the box with her heart. She fell to the ground, weakly crawling toward you to try and stop you as the shard of glass in your hand pierced through the rotted tissue. She cursed at you as she wailed out in agony.

"You'd do it too, for love," was the last thing she said before burning to ashes.

"Call us even now," you teased Haechan before you toppled in pain.

"You okay?" Haechan rushes to your side.

"No, something's very wrong. It hurts," you whine.

"What? Where?"

"Everywhere. I don't know what the fuck she did to me."

"Okay. We gotta get you outta here," Haechan slung your arm around his neck, helping you to your feet.

You clung onto Haechan, stumbling over your feet, leaving the house with Haechan's arm around you, keeping you upright.

You squirmed in the passenger's seat, the pain getting even worse.

"Haechan, I can't. Everthing fucking hurts," you cry.

Haechan's knuckles turned white from how hard he gripped the wheel, applying more pressure to the gas, rushing back to your hotel.

You felt like you were burning inside out while simultaneously being stabbed. Yet you were thinking about how hot Haechan looked. Maybe the end is near.

Haechan's face was set in a hard line, his jaw clenched as he did about 30 over the speed limit. You found your eyes drifting over to him, distracting yourself for a moment. Haechan's sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the muscles in his arms rippling under his skin as he held onto the steering wheel. From the dark brown strands falling over his eyes to the jeans hugging his thighs so deliciously you couldn't resist the urge to press your thighs together.

Your pain subsided for only a second before you shook those thoughts from your head, and your nerves returned to screaming in agony.

Haechan could care less about how badly he parked the car before running over to your side and helping you out of the car, rushing you into the hotel. Thankfully it was late, and no one was in the lobby other than the receptionist you slipped past without detection.

The moment you entered your room, you pushed Haechan away and locked yourself in the bathroom. You were taking a cold shower to bring your temperature back down, but you couldn't shake the thoughts of Haechan out of your mind. How good he smelled, how his body felt against yours with you tucked into his side, the genuine concern he showed for you-

You didn't even realize you had your hand between your thighs until you finally felt relief, stroking your clit. You bit your lip, trying to conceal any moans threatening to spill out of your lips. You desperately rubbed your clit, feeling the strongest need for release right now.

Your eyes were closed, and all you envisioned behind closed eyelids were Haechan. His face, his voice—everything was overwhelming.

You were already so close to cumming, as you thought of Haechan's fingers instead of your own.

You scraped your nails down the tiled walls, that knot inside you so close to breaking. Until you heard a knock on the door.

"You okay in there?" Haechan asks from the other side.

You snap out of it, opening your eyes as guilt and pain washed over you.

You cleared your throat, "Yeah. I'll be out in a second," you yelled to him.

The shower only helped temporarily. You were lying on the bed, half-naked, a thin layer of sweat covering your entire body.

You tried to wait for Haechan to come back after getting off the phone and hopefully with a solution to this. You were exhausted but still in too much pain to even try sleeping.

Your body jolted, alert once again, hearing the door slamming.

"Haechan?"

He didn't hear you calling his name as he flipped through the pages of the witch's grimoire you snagged from the house before leaving. Once Haechan stopped turning through the book, his eyes bounced around the page, reading whatever was written.

"Haechan?" you call him again.

He tore his eyes away from the page and met your gaze.

"What is it?" you ask.

For once, it seemed Haechan was at a loss for words. And his silence was beginning to scare you.

"Haechan, please just tell me," you pleaded.

He sighs, "If it's what Jaemin think's it is, it was phoenix's blossom she hit you with. It's pretty high grade and usually associated with spells of desire."

You thought this information would've clarified at least a few things, but you were more confused, leaving you with even more questions than answers.

"Okay, then why the hell does it feel like I'm dying?"

"The neglect of the heart's desires will ignite the eternal fires from within. Scorching the soul along with it," he read from the pages.

Fuck me.

You manage to roll out of bed and over to the minibar, pouring yourself a shot of whiskey.

If you're going to die before you're 30, you're going to at least have one last drink if it really is the end.

It was like you could feel Haechan's eyes on you as you poured another drink, the alcohol not being enough to eliminate your pain but numb it enough that it became bearable for you.

You didn't even notice Haechan had moved until he was standing next to you, pouring himself a drink.

He didn't say anything, just sipping on the amber liquid, carefully watching you. He looked at you blankly, and you couldn't tell what he was thinking. You were only starting to focus on how much prettier he looks up close.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you ask him, annoyed with the wordless staring.

"What are you thinking?"

You scoff before downing the rest of your drink without as much as a wince, "What am I thinking? How pissed I am some old hag got the jump on me like this. How I'm gonna haunt Taeyong's ass from beyond the grave. How I'm never getting those twenty bucks Chenle still owes me." you half-joked.

The feeling of Haechan's fingers reaching out for your hand made you finally meet his eyes.

You sighed, "How angry it makes me to look at your face sometimes. How bad I wish things didn't get so fucked up because you were still my friend," you didn't notice he was slowly pulling you closer, "And how badly I miss the way you used to touch me."

He cupped your face, staring into your eyes.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Why should I?"

"Cause I'm tired of looking at your stupid face," you didn't try too hard to push him away.

Your skin burns under his touch when Haechan grabs your waist, "Ah. Was this the same stupid face you were thinking about when you were trying to get off in the shower?"

Haechan teased you when embarrassment took over your face.

"You think I don't remember what you sound like even when you so desperately try to keep quiet."

Haechan cups your jaw, bringing your face closer.

"You don't think I miss the pretty noises you'd make for me."

You could feel the flood of arousal throughout your body, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Haechan's eyes are dark, and when you bring your hand to his cheek, you feel how warm his skin is compared to yours.

"Haechan, you're-"

"I know," was all Haechan said.

The residue of the phoenix's blossom on his clothes was evidence enough.

"This shit feels like poison coursing through my veins. And it is unbearably fucking hot in here. But I can't seem to pull myself away for you," Haechan pulled you flush against him.

"I wanna hear you say it," you stop him with your finger on his lips.

"I want you so bad, it's killing me," he said light-heartedly.

With that, your lips were on his.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, weaving your fingers in his hair. You moaned into his mouth when he pressed your body into the bar behind you.

You swipe your tongue along the seam of his lips, tangling with his before fighting for dominance. Haechan's hands were all over your body. He cupped your breasts over your bra, softly rubbing your sensitive nipples through the material, making you moan against his lips. You push the both of you away from the bar, Haechan blindly leading you to the bed.

His legs hit the bed, and you push him down onto the springy mattress, climbing on top of him. Haechan's hands guided your hips, grinding into his cock, your shorts, and his jeans being the only thing between you. His hands kneaded your ass firmly as you dragged your hips against his.

"Hyuck," you breathe his name. Haechan groans, even more blood rushing to his dick from the way his name sounded rolling off your tongue.

You started pulling on Haechan's shirt until you got it over his head and off his body, now lying on the floor. You trail your lips down his jaw, nipping his skin between his teeth, leaving openmouthed kisses on the side of his neck. Haechan slid his hand over the curve of your ass, sliding up your back, reaching for the clasp on your bra. He couldn't keep his hands off you. Haechan flipped you onto your back before he slipped one of your nipples into his mouth, flicking the perky bud with the tip of his tongue. You arch into Haechan's touch, his saliva covering your areola as he gives the same attention to the opposite one.

Haechan starts kissing down your body. He sinks his teeth into your skin, taking in how responsive you are to him.

Placing one last kiss on your hip, Haechan hooks his fingers in the waistband of your shorts, tearing them down your legs along with your soaked panties.

Haechan's intense gaze made you want to close your legs out of embarrassment, but he didn't allow them, keeping them apart with his hands. He runs a finger through your folds, coating his fingers in your slick.

Your hips instantly lift against his hand, and he takes amusement in the way you pouted when he drew his hand away.

"Fuck you," you whine.

"We're getting there, baby. Patience." Haechan doesn't hesitate to bring his fingers to his lips, licking your essence off his hand.

He hums, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. You could've sworn you watched his eyes grow darker; you could barely tell they were brown anymore.

"Taste as good as I remember, angel," Haechan licks his lips.

Bringing his hand back between your thighs, Haechan sinks two fingers into your cunt, easily breaching your walls from how wet you are. Moans bubbled up in your throat, the feeling of his fingers curling against your gummy walls eliminating the excruciating pain you were in.

You grab onto his wrist, rolling your hips into his hand.

"Haechan..please fuck me."

A sound resembling a growl rumbled in his chest, hearing you beg for him.

You pathetically whined when Haechan left you empty and untouched as he started to take off the last thing he was wearing. Kicking his jeans off, letting his boxers be the last to join the rest of the clothes on the floor, Haechan strokes his cock in his hand. Your mouth waters as you press your thighs together at the sight of him.

"You know it's been a minute, baby, and I haven't properly prepped you. Think you can take it?" he teases.

You wrap your hand around his length, squeezing your fist around him, making him curse lowly.

"Can you?" you raise an eyebrow.

Haechan pushes you back onto your back, giving you no warning before slamming into you.

"Oh, my fucking god, Hyuck!" you cried, your nails painfully digging into his shoulders.

"You're so wet—shit. Pussy feels so fucking good." Haechan groaned, thrusting into you.

You roughly grabbed his hair, smashing your lips into his, and Haechan's pace started to pick up. He dropped his head to watch his cock slip into your heat easily, every time he eased out of you just to fill you up to the hilt again.

Haechan sat back on his haunches, still fucking into your messy pussy. Haechan was in awe of the sight beneath him. The way you tried to move your hips to match his movements but had a hard time keeping up because of the pleasure fogging up your mind.

With his hands still on your waist, Haechan pulled you up to sit in his lap, sinking down even further on his cock.

You threw your head back, moaning shamelessly. You held onto him, gyrating your hips against his. Haechan grabbed your ass, lifting you up before letting you sink back down, the tip of his cock brushing your sweet spot.

"You're so hot," Haechan's eyes were glossed over as he looked at you. Your walls clenched around him tightly, humming in agreement as you studied his face.

You gripped his chin between your fingers, squishing his cheeks together before you planted a kiss on his lips.

"I want—I need more. Please, Haechan," you pant against his lips.

The corners of his lips curled up mischievously. Haechan pushed you back onto the bed, leaving you empty. He then manhandled you onto your hands and knees. You kept your hips raised in the air as he easily slipped back in, bottoming out. You moaned into the sheets, gripping them, feeling Haechan's cock stretch you in the most delicious ways.

"Fuck, angel," he rasped.

Haechan's fingers gripped your body, bruisingly tight as you matched his rhythm and moved your hips, your skin meeting in sharp slaps each time. Haechan grabbed your ass, spreading your cheeks and watching your sopping pussy swallow his cock. You could feel the slick dripping down your thighs, probably making a mess on Haechan as well.

"You feel so fucking good, Hyuck," your words were muffled by bedding beneath you.

"Poor baby. So desperate to cum," he started stroking your clit, making you squirm. "Good thing you have me to help make you feel better," he pressed a kiss below your jaw.

"Unfortunately, you're the only thing that can," you tease.

Haechan scoffs as if he took real offense to those words. But oh, was it the best decision you've made all night.

He forced your head back into the pillows, deepening your back's arch and fucking you relentlessly.

"Yes, yes, yes. P-Please—Haechan!"

"You feel that? How good I'm making you feel. Have I already fucked you dumb, sweetheart?" he said in a condescending tone, "What was it you said before?" he asked. Haechan knew you didn't have half a mind to think about anything from even two seconds ago, too consumed in the euphoric feeling of him blowing your back out.

"Hyuck..." was all you could say, and he proudly smiled.

"That's right, baby. Say my name. Remind yourself who's fucking you this good."

"Please, Hyuck. I'm gonna cum."

"Me too, angel." He snaked his hand down between your legs, rubbing your puffy clit.

You cried into the sheets. The sound of your ass slapping against his pelvis mixed with your muffled whines and Haechan's breathy moans.

"Let me feel that pretty pussy cum around me," he said in your ear.

Your pussy had a vice grip on his cock, nearing the edge. Your walls pulsed around his length, your legs shaking from the intensity of your orgasm.

"Haechan, Haechan, Haechan," you chanted his name, riding out the wave of euphoria.

If it wasn't for Haechan still holding your hips up, your body would have collapsed to the bed. He kept pounding into your heat, your pussy enveloping his cock as he fucked his cum into you.

You whined, feeling overstimulation begin to overtake you, but Haechan continued to lazily thrust into you. His cum started to leak out of you, dripping down his length and your thighs.

Haechan's cock finally went soft, leaving you empty, the sticky white substance now coating your folds and inner thighs.

Haechan rolled you over onto your back, looking into your glassy eyes. The tension filling the room was only accompanied by your heavy breathing.

You brushed his hair out of his eyes before slapping him across the face. Haechan cursed and rubbed his stinging cheek.

"Sorry," you apologized, "Had to make sure."

"Well?"

"Spell's broken," you tell him, sitting up.

"How do you know?"

"Cause I can go back to feeling like I hate you without being in pain again."

Haechan laughs, "You still hate me?"

"Maybe just a little less," you smile before you kiss him. Haechan wasn't expecting it, but he kissed you back immediately.

"Thank you."

"Are you sure I'm not already dead and in heaven?"

You laughed, "I'm pretty sure."

. . .

"You sure you're okay?" Jaemin asks over the phone.

"Yeah."

"And Haechan?"

You heard Haechan singing in the shower and bit back a smile.

"He's fine too," you say. "You think the witch knew what she was doing?"

"Of course, she did. She could probably sense the sexual tension between you two the moment you were in town."

"What are you saying? That that was her own twisted way of playing matchmaker?"

"She's a pretty powerful love witch, that's pretty much her specialty."

"If I didn't know any better, I would think you guys sent us here on purpose."

"We did. Just so you guys reconcile whatever was going on between you. But none of us thought this would've happened. You two could've died."

"But we didn't."

"Yeah, you didn't. What're you gonna do about that now anyway?"

"That is something we can figure out on the drive back."

a/n: now i’m ngl i may have self inserted a little too hard with this one except we actually have a happier ending 🙂

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writeforfandoms · 11 months

Text

Waking Lions 4

Find the series masterlist

You learn some things, do Laswell a favor, and run into Captain again. This is becoming a bad habit.

Speech in italics is Russian, this chapter.

Warnings: Swearing, aftermath of violence, vague threat from terrorist, MW2019 typical Russians, blood, injury (not to reader), spy shit.

Word count: 2k

Serious slow burn John Price x f!reader

You discovered the plot on accident. Really.

It was just… one of those things.

Sergio had invited you to stay for a few days and play with his girls, so you did. You brought them gifts from Turkey, California, and Scotland (you’d had a layover and had gotten bored in the airport).

The girls were darling, and you’d known them both all their lives. You would never, ever marry Sergio (not least because of his obsession with the next future ex-wife) but you loved his kids. Sophia and Natalia. For a while, when you’d initially started building this relationship, you’d helped tutor Sophia.

Now, you played with the girls and helped to keep them out of trouble and helped with their homework. You were more or less the weird aunt they saw every once in a while, and that worked for you.

The girls were asleep, but you’d been unable to sleep yourself. So you got up, figuring you’d have a little snack or some water and wander a bit.

Except wandering may not have been the best idea.

Low voices from a sitting room had you on alert, and you moved as quietly as you knew how, creeping closer.

“...perfect bait for them,” someone was saying in Russian. Not Sergio. You didn’t recognize this voice, actually.

“Why do you want to capture one of them?” That was Sergio, sounding vaguely disgusted. “More of a risk this way, no?”

“You are short-sighted,” the first speaker said. Well, he was definitely above Sergio, then. “Capturing an operative will give us an edge.”

There was a beat of silence. “Still sounds risky,” Sergio grumbled. “But it is your will, so we will see it done. When will you set the bait?”

“It has been set already,” the leader said, sounding smug. “I let information leak about the gas storage, so the Americans will know of it by now. We will be ready this time.”

Well. That was fucked.

There were days when the back and forth espionage shit got on your last nerve.

“To a successful hunt, then,” Sergio offered, the gentle clinking of glasses following his words.

You might be able to hear more if you stayed… But you also ran the risk of discovery. And that would end poorly for you.

Bullet in the head kind of poorly.

So you snuck away back up to your room, debating the best way to alert Laswell. Text was risky, but a call would be more risky, especially here. You couldn’t wait until morning, just in case people were already en route. And since you didn’t have a location…

You puffed out a breath, walking into the en suite and shutting the door. There was no easy way to do this, and you didn’t trust Sergio not to have bugs planted in the bathroom. So you hummed to yourself as you typed out a quick text.

Gas a trap for info. Advise abort.

There. That was… not your best work, admittedly, but you were a bit strapped for time. It got your point across.

And, really, if someone managed to get hold of your text records, you had more things to worry about than the wording of a single text.

She replied two minutes later. Copy. Send updates.

You puffed out a breath. She was so lucky you liked her. (And that you were indebted to her still for her help.)

Turning the shower on, you decided maybe a bit of hot water would help you relax enough to get to sleep.

You were very glad you had the girls as an excuse to be out of the house for the fallout of the failed mission. Sergio didn’t tell you anything, but the blooming black eye spoke for him.

You stayed another week, mostly because the girls pleaded with you to stay. But a little bit because you were curious and wanted to see if you could hear anything else. When that ended up being futile, you booked a flight to Morocco.

Because why not.

The plan was to touch base with someone you knew who had fingers in shipping pies. (Seriously, the woman was an absolute master. She could get anything anywhere in the world, for the right price.) And, of course, to eat some delicious food, and check on the hideaway you kept there. You had several across the globe, but it had been a while since you’d been to this one. You probably needed to change out some of the non-perishables.

It was supposed to be a low-key, quiet trip. Relaxing. The only adventure you wanted was wandering through the city.

It was not a low-key, quiet trip.

Three days in, you’d restocked your hideaway, contacted your shipping master friend, and found a new place with some of the best food you’d ever had. It was shaping up to be a good trip.

And then a man dropped down in front of you, woozy, dark skin glistening with sweat. The tactical vest was a dead giveaway, but the flag was a surprise.

You very purposely did not look for a name. But you did do a quick sweep of the rest of him.

Blood seeped out from under the vest, staining his shirt, and you swore softly.

“You need help.”

“I’m fine.” But the words were a little sluggish, one hand pressing over the wound at his hip.

“You need help,” you reiterated, glancing around, suddenly wary. You did not want to be caught in the crossfire of this, and the longer you stayed out in the open, the more likely that became. “Please. I’ve got bandages back at my place.”

His gaze held yours, suddenly hard, calculating. “I’ve got people on the way,” he said, clearly testing.

“Good, then they can pick you up.” You ducked under one of his arms, your own looping across his back. “Come on, in we go. Before whoever shot you finds us both.”

He gave in, letting you walk him down half a block and inside. He didn’t even complain going up the stairs to your hideaway, though you could see the way his jaw clenched.

“This one’s mine,” you told him, pulling your keys out of your pocket when you reached the appropriate floor. It took a moment to get the door unlocked and maneuver him inside without letting go - he was slowly leaning more on you for support. You kicked the door shut after the two of you and more or less carefully deposited him in a chair. He groaned softly, like he didn’t even mean to, and you winced in sympathy.

Fortunately, all your hideaways had first aid kits stocked, and you thumped it onto the table in front of him.

“I’ll help if you want,” you offered, taking a step back and putting your hands up, away from your body. “But you are very well armed and I am not.”

“S’alright,” he muttered, accent effortlessly charming even as he popped open the first aid kit. “I’ve got it.” His gaze lifted to yours, a little less wary and a little more curious. “What’s your name?”

You tutted at him, amused despite yourself. “Does it matter? You need to get patched up and wait until your buddies come get you.” You put two sealed water bottles onto the table for him, already kind of mourning your decision. Dammit, you shouldn’t have brought him here.

“Thank you.” He tugged his shirt up and out of the way to press gauze to the still-bleeding gash.

“Don’t thank me yet,” you muttered, more to yourself than him. You stepped past him into your bedroom, taking a quick look around. Only a few things of sentimental value resided here, and you were quick to throw those and a change of clothes into a duffel bag.

You had to burn this hideaway now. Not literally, but you’d never be able to come back here again.

At least nothing here would give them more information on you.

You set the duffel bag on the floor by the door, ignoring his gaze. You let yourself look around one last time. You really liked this place. Damn.

“Where are you going?” His voice was calm, just a hint of urgency there.

“Nowhere yet, I suspect,” you said on a sigh, turning to look. He didn’t actually have a weapon in hand, which rather surprised you. “Just getting ready to go once your friends arrive.”

His eyes narrowed, suspicion growing. Your smile was crooked and understanding.

“Just because I helped you doesn’t mean I want that kind of attention,” you said, hands carefully palms-out at your sides again. “Nothing personal.”

He didn’t seem quite sure what to make of you, shoulders tense, fingers twitching. Then he blinked once and lifted his free hand to the radio on his vest. “Injured, currently patching up. Indoors, one unknown.”

Ah. You were likely the unknown. Well. Fair, honestly. You were acting pretty suspicious for anyone who didn’t know you.

“Solid copy.” His hand left his radio, but his gaze stayed fixed on you. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“And I suppose I’m to wait here until they arrive?” You puffed out a breath. “Alright, sure.” You had contingencies, if you needed them. If you really needed to, you could call Laswell. But you hoped you didn’t have to.

The wait was silent and felt like it dragged on forever, although in reality it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. Two heavy knocks pulled you from your spot, and you opened the door.

And then blinked.

“Captain?”

His expression immediately settled into a scowl. “Ace.”

“Huh.” You stepped back to let him in. “I take it this one’s yours, then?” You nodded back at the wounded man behind you.

“Yes.” He stepped past you, momentarily dismissing you to kneel by the injured man. You could hear them speaking quietly, going over the situation. But Captain’s voice had softened a little, care clear in the way he checked his man. He did have a heart after all.

That would be your cue to leave.

You picked up your duffel bag and managed to take one step before a quiet, “Sir,” cut you off.

“Where are you going?”

Captain was glaring at you now, tense, wary. Probably thinking the worst of you. Again.

“I have to abandon this place now anyway,” you pointed out reasonably. “You might as well enjoy it, get properly patched up before you go.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Is it not enough to know that I’m leaving?”

“No.” He stood, prowling over to you, using his height to loom over you.

You debated with yourself, head tilting to one side, looking up at him. You could probably make it if you distracted him with something and ran. Then again, you might not, and you were not in the mood today to be thrown around.

“I am planning on getting the hell out before whatever chaos you’re involved in explodes.” You kept your tone dry, chin tipping in challenge.

His lips thinned. “No.”

“You’re not my boss,” you said quietly, stepping into him, refusing to back down. “And you can’t keep me here, not without all kinds of trouble. I’ll be on my way to another country, and you can bug out as soon as you want.”

He was going to keep arguing with you, you could see it in the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands were ready to grab you. But something distracted the both of them, Captain turning to the injured man.

You didn’t wait. You booked it, hauling ass out of the apartment and down the stairs. You heard the yell behind you, but you didn’t acknowledge it, focused on getting out.

And once you were outside, it was easy to find crowds and blend in, easy to get to the airport and buy a ticket to Cairo. From there, you weren’t sure, but you did know one thing.

Captain was showing up too often in your life. He was becoming a distraction. And that? That could be a problem.

#waking lions #john price x reader #john price x you #f!reader

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judysxnd · 10 months

Note

Hi beautiful

Can you please write a pedro×reader where they are fighting really seriously and suddenly kisses the reader and things get spicy...

And acn you please write it long?

I am in this phase where I see Pedro has a dad. So I’m going to write the plot I have in mind, that thank god corresponds to this.

I hope it was long enough! I don’t think I have ever written something that long!

Warnings: swearing, hand job, unprotected sex

Minors DNI

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Having a personal life in the middle of a social career is not easy. Even difficult. Whatever you do, whatever you say, you are always watched, everything gets twisted, and it’s just.. drama. That’s why you and Pedro, when you finally started dating, decided to stay private. And that’s still been going on after all these years.

Let’s settle everything. You’ve been dating Pedro for four years. You met through a mutual friend, who was your roommate. You immediately had a good chemistry, but nothing ever happened. No one could deny that there wasn’t any tension, but you both stayed friend for at least a year before something happened.

Neither of you planned that infamous night where everything went down (literally). You had a nice little party at your place, I mean, it was just a few friends. One too many drinks and.. yes. You ended up having sex. One super great night that both of you remembered and liked very much. That’s why you kept doing it. You both decided to become friends with benefits, and it was going on good! Buuuut it only lasted a month. And, much to your surprise, it wasn’t because of you. Pedro caved. If it hadn’t been him, you would have given in shortly after.

So you started dating. And it’s been amazing. You’ve been having the greatest time of your life. You both handle very well the distance, keeping communicating a lot, sometimes visiting each other on either sets. And let’s not forget that you are having the best sex ever. You’re good, he’s good, together you make the best. And it went on. A year. And a second year. Which brings us to some defining moments. Because yes there were two very close.

The first one is Pedro proposing. Two years in the relationship and your love is only growing even more. You are obsessed with each other, you’re literally never felt that before. And Pedro decided to lock this, making it official. You were in Morocco. Pedro loved it so much when he filmed gladiator that he wanted to show you. He had planned everything. He rented a magnificent like little palace for your trip, with this amazing view on the ocean. As he knows you absolutely love sunsets, and arranged a little romantic dinner on the beach, and proposed when the sunset was at its peak.

Unfortunately the fantasy was cut short, you had to go back in reality, and go back to work. Two weeks after coming back, you started to get sick. You had nausea, morning sickness, and you were extremely tired. When you saw it wasn’t going away, you went to see your doctor. Surprise! You’re pregnant. Big news. How to tell Pedro? He proposed two weeks ago, with you careers, the age gap, and the fact that neither of you actually want kids, how could you drop the news?

You decided to be direct. Communication was one of the best thing in your relationship. You could talk about everything, either serious or not. You both said things to each other that neither of you had told before. He was home before you, so it all happened very quick. You didn’t have time to think. When he asked about your doctor’s appointment, you dropped the bomb.

Pedro was very comprehensive but it has been a lot on him. At his age, having a kid, it’s not easy. Even if he’s great and would actually love the idea. But it involved so many things. Both of your careers, the living situation, handling the media parts. And after listing the pros and cons, you made this huge decision.

To your next appointment, you found out you were two months pregnant. The baby’s gender couldn’t be determined yet. It has been a lot of anxiety on the both of you as this was unexpected, but since you decided to keep it, you’ve actually both been pretty excited. Pedro was already thinking about names. But there was one thing you couldn’t stop thinking: the media.

It has been taboo to talk about it actually. You managed to keep it together after two years of dating, only facing some rumors, but nothing more since neither of you ever denied or confirmed anything. You were even playing with it, going out in town with some friends and being very close to some, dodging paparazzi, you were into it. But now it was getting more complicated, you were adding a baby. Since no one knew you were together, how could you pop out one day either pregnant or with a baby in your arms?

You had lots of arguments, but decided to worry about it when the baby was born. So you went awol during your pregnancy. You were posting pictures here and there, some stories; making sure no one could see the rest of your body. And it was fun, all this secrecy.

Month number seven: you couldn’t take it anymore. You wanted to know the gender of the baby. You managed to go for all this time since at every sonogram the baby was turned in a way that you couldn’t see, but it finally happened at your monthly check up. It’s a girl! Oh the look on Pedro’s face. He lit up. Excitement took over.

You decided that you wanted your kid to grow up in the countryside and not closed in between four walls in an apartment, so you started to create and build your own house. Talking about the wolf, baby girl decided to show up two weeks late, and was born at 1:57am on the 31st of July at home. And there she was, Sofia Veronica Y/l/n Pascal. Healthy baby. You’ve both been filled with nothing but happiness. No regrets whatsoever, even when she wakes up at night crying.

Sofia is two years old, currently running in the house with her teddy bear in her arms, probably having some sort of runaway. You’re on the couch, on your phone, scrolling on Instagram. Pedro is in the kitchen drinking his coffee, leaning against the counter, pretending to almost get hit by Sofia when she runs past him. Everything was peaceful, a beautiful sunny day as the house filled with laughter, up until you saw this picture of a famous friend of yours, at Disneyland with their kids. You sighed.

“Pedro” you said slowly turning towards him. He hummed, his eyes following your daughter. “Why don’t we go somewhere with Sofia?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like a park or something” he finally looked at you, sipping from his coffee.

“You know we can’t”

“I know, but maybe this one time we could?” He walked to the counter closer to you.

“Cariño if you want to go with her you can”

“I want to go together, as a family” you sat up, facing him entirely

“We agreed to this” he started to sound dry

“And I’m changing my mind”

“You can’t just do that”

“Why not?” He didn’t say anything “please express yourself, tell me why not” you got up

“We can’t risk it, for her sake” he said pointing to Sofia, now looking at the both of you before starting to run again.

“I dont think there’s anything to risk”

“Really? Really? We’re going into this again?” He started to raise his voice

“Yes. I think we should. Because I think it’s going insane” he scoffed “for fuck sake’s, we’re taking turns going outside with her, and we they see you with her you just pretend she’s your niece or something” he kept shaking his head

“We need to keep her privacy”

“It doesn’t mean we can’t do anything together!” You walked a bit closer to him “Jesus! She’s two years old and we never took her to a fun fair or something!”

“She’s two, she won’t remember anything”

“Oh my fucking god. I cannot believe it.” You lower your voice a bit “it’s not about remembering, it’s about being a fucking family. She needs to see the world, with us, to learn!”

“And what about the paparazzi? Oh no wait you’re right. She’ll learn how to be fucking harassed, having no privacy, being followed at her every movement, being talked about and shamed on the internet”

“Are you scared for her or for yourself?” He stopped and stared at you “that’s what I thought” you said going back to the couch

“Oh don’t twist it, it’s not about me it’s about her”

“Oh no it’s about us, and how you don’t want you career to be over just because I’m twenty years younger than you and that you got a fucking child with me” you sat down on the couch, not facing him anymore. You couldn’t take it anymore. Tears were starting to form under your eyes. You heard Pedro walk to you.

“Are you really thinking that?” He was now standing in front of the couch

“It doesn’t matter that’s how they’re going to see it” you crossed your arms, looking on your left outside.

“That’s not true”

“Then what is it? Why can’t we take a walk outside, the three of us, as a family? We chose to handle our careers and a child. We knew the risks, we can’t just avoid them” you stood up.

“She’s too young for that, maybe when she’s older!” And it went back to where it started, like he didn’t listen.

“So what, in the mean time she stays inside the house until she’s at least 10? So what, she doesn’t go to school? I bet you didn’t even think about-” Pedro stepped closer to you and in a sudden move kissed you, putting both his hands on your face. After a few seconds he pulled away

“Can we just settle down for a minute?” He softly asked. Still processing what just happened, you nodded. He kissed you again, this time more gently. You both gave in, keeping kissing each other more and more passionately by the second, until Sofia screamed. You both turned your heads to look at her. She was standing next to the couch, with a big smile. You both smiled at her, getting calmed just by looking at her.

“Young lady, isn’t it time for your nap?” She shook her head. You looked at your watch. “I think it is!” You started to move but Pedro stopped you.

“I’ll do it, stay here” he kissed your forehead, and chased Sofia who didn’t want to go the bed. Twenty minutes later he was back. “She fell asleep almost right away” he chuckled.

“I’m not surprised, she’s been running around for a while” you were sitting on the couch, and Pedro sat next to you.

“So.. where we were” he said, hand on your thigh, sending a wave of shivers down to your core. But you decided to ignore for now. You were mad, you had a point to make, you couldn’t think about this now.

“We need to do something, like literally, we can’t stay hidden like that”

“I know but I don’t want her to be traumatized or something”

“But maybe nothing will happen?” You looked at each other. “The only time we got very close to them it’s only when we go to restaurants at night. We just.. won’t do that”

“I don’t know..”

“Pedro we need to do it”

“I need to think about it”

“We just did” you were starting to get impatient again

“Y/n”

“Let’s just try!” He didn’t say anything. “Or let’s make an official statement, like we publish something on Instagram or something”

“We need to talk to our publicist first” you sight

“Come on..” you got up “I just want to do something spontaneous for once, don’t you understand?”

“I do! But we knew what we were getting into in the first place!” You sighed, looking at him.

“I don’t even know why we keep arguing honestly” you shook you arms. Pedro just stared at you, then suddenly he got up and kissed you roughly. “Pedro..” you said in between kisses.

“Tomorrow we’ll go out okay?” He said, leaning his head against yours. You were staring at his lips, a little out of breath.

“You sure?”

“Yes” you looked at each other before kissing him more passionately this time. His hands travelled for your face this your waist as he brought you closer to him. “I don’t want to lose you because of some shit”

“You’re not losing me” you said, caressing his face. You kissed him softly. He started to step back towards the couch, pulling you in with him. He sat down on the couch, grabbed your thighs pulling you on top of him. “We’re going to get through this you know, we just need to find something that we both agree on” you said

“I know I know” he nodded, his hands going up and down on your thighs. You went for another kiss that ended sloppier and lasted longer. His hands got up on your waist and started to lift your shirt which ended somewhere in the living room, leaving your chest exposed.

Pedro got away from you lips, kissing your jaw, your neck, and ended on your breasts. The feeling of his touch, his lips on you made you shiver. Moans were escaping your mouth and so was Pedro. He was humming against your skin, making vibrations that were turning you on too much. You were growing impatient.

“Pedro please” you begged for more. He pulled away, looking at you, your lips. He took off his shirt and pulled you in for another kiss. The tension was very sensual now. You weren’t feeling the anger anymore. The frustration was gone within seconds. You started to grind on him was you were eager to feel him. Pedro groaned in response.

He pulled you up and laid you down on the couch, taking your shorts and underwear off at the same time. He came back up leaving trails of kisses on your thighs, going left and right, teasing you more. He put his hand down your core and started massaging your clit making you gasp.

“Oh yes” you managed to say, moving your hips to follow the movements of Pedro’s hand between your legs. Your back was arching to the many feelings you were having. He shifter his hand, entering one then two fingers you, leaving his thumb to move on your clitoris. “Pedro” It wasn’t enough, you wanted more, you wanted feel him inside you. But it was hard to talk.

“Talk to me” he said kissing your stomach

“I-I want you”

“I’m right here” you chuckled “tell me what you want” he said accelerating his movements.

“You- I- oh my god” he was now kissing your neck again. Your hands were in his hair. “I want you inside me”

“That’s my girl” he said now looking at you, smirking. You pulled him in for a languorous kiss, as your hands were now trying to pull his pants and boxers down, squeezing is ass at the same time. You earned a moan from him. He pulled away as your orgasm was rising.

You watched him move, sit down on the couch then take his clothes off, before coming back closer to you. He kissed you again as he pressed himself against you, feeling his cock against your heated clit. You were both moaning in the kiss. You pushed him away a bit, lowering your hand to his cock and started to tease him a bit, getting him worked up too.

He quickly couldn’t take it, so he grabbed your hand and moved it away as he centered himself to your entrance and slowly and surely entered you. He started with a slow pace, taking his time. His right hand went back to your clit as he started go a little bit faster. You were trying to contain your screams as you were reaching your climax, but you couldn’t anymore. It was so intense that none of you could form any sentences. He started to slow down a bit, before pulling out and coming on your stomach, his hand still working on you to get you to your orgasm.

Both panting, you took your right hand to your stomach and with one finger you wiped his cum before licking everything. Pedro watched you very closely. Still hovering over you, he kissed you passionately, then he kissed your forehead before leaning on top of you. You were caressing his hair and back softly while his hands we were resting on your waist.

“I love you so much” he said, breaking the silent

“I love you more”

You laid there for a while just resting, until Sofia woke up. Pedro went to get her, change her and everything. When he came back in the living room again, he was holding a bag in his hand.

“What is this for?” You asked as you put your phone away

“Spontaneity” you frowned, confused

“Care to explain?”

“There’s a small park not far from here, I thought that.. maybe we could go?”

“Are you serious?” You stood up

“Yes. It’s small but-”

“No it’s great! Let’s start small!” You were excited. You hugged him tight. “Thank you so much” he kissed your head, then you both left to the park with your daughter.

#pedro pascal #fanfic #imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #oneshot #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal preferences #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro x reader #pedro pascal fluff

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its-morocco · 6 months

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bubuslutty · 1 year

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Day 6: you wanna be the Queencard?

this is part 6, all parts

pairing: angel/demon!fem reader x 141

word count: 2.5k

tags: fluff, poor attempt at humour (help), no use of y/n, 3rd person pov, proofread by me so sorry for any mistakes

warnings: none

summary: Price notices changes + Angel invites Soap to hang out <3

a/n: special thanks to my first ever beta reader @whore4dilfs! Feedback means lots to me and gives me boosts of motivation <3

Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed this chapter/serie, means lots 💖

the title of this part is taken from this song.

Price wasn't stupid. He has eyes and can notice when people slowly start to change.

Since they have moved into the little home in London for work under Laswell’s watchful eyes, their new neighbour has been nothing but a pleasant surprise. At first, it was fun you know? Oh look, we have a hot neighbour and she’s nice! Angel would sometimes be talked about when they were having dinner, the men casually talking about how her cat almost ruined her flowers and she shouted at her. Or how last Saturday she almost tripped and fell face first when taking out the trash, or how she gets her laundry from the garden wearing nothing but a stupid t-shirt and pair of underwear.

Price is a gentleman, he tries his best not to stare, not to let his eyes linger on her when she’s out and about or greets him when he’s smoking in the garden. But she’s so fucking pretty, it’s frustrating at this point, how she manages to make his breath stutter every time he sees her. She could be wearing an old Minnie Mouse t-shirt, a pair of shorts and yellow Crocs with gardening gloves, dirty and sweating under the sun and digging up weeds and Price would always get caught staring at her, his cigar forgotten between his fingers.

He feels like a teenager all over again. He’s not a virgin for fuck sake. And he had his fair share of hookups here and there along with (failed) relationships. But he still catches himself staring at her lips when she’s laughing at something Soap said, throwing her head back and screeching with laughter. And she seems to not mind his men’s antics, either.

She doesn’t ask about their scars, doesn’t comment on Ghost's clothing choices or how he wears a mask 24/7 and never asks why she should call him Ghost either. She never asked them intrusive questions, not even when they were comfortable, bellies full of wine and warm under the sun on random afternoons. Angel hasn’t made any of his men or himself uncomfortable, not even once, and that’s terrifying because it’s so easy to get comfortable and open with her. It makes him want to talk about things he only keeps to himself. She makes him want to sit and ramble about what he’d do once he’s old and retired, maybe he’ll buy a boat, or a house up north, or move to Spain or to Morocco.

One fine Tuesday, Price was sitting on the sofa, scrolling on his phone while Gaz was curled up next to him, reading a random webcomic on his phone when their doorbell rang.

Gaz frowned, looking up at Price, "Are we expecting someone, today?"

"No." Price shook his head.

"I'll get it!" Soap exclaimed, skipping 3 steps and jumping down the stairs, wearing a tank top and a pair of comfortable shorts with little dog-printed socks. Initially, Soap thought it must be one of his packages that came earlier than expected, but once he opened the door he realised it wasn't the mailman but their hot neighbour.

And she was absolutely soaked from head to toe, it was raining so hard outside that Soap accidentally got rain inside their house, wetting the floor under his feet

"I locked myself out. Can I please come in until the rain stops?" Angel asked, embarrassed and hair sticking to her neck and face.

"Holy shit, yeah, of course!" Soap quickly moved to the side, allowing her to step inside their warm house and locked the door behind her.

Angel stood there awkwardly, her clothes sticking to her skin as she shivered and looked at Soap with her wet eyelashes clumped together.

"What the hell happened to you?" Price said as soon as he saw her, sitting up properly.

"Got rained on, and uhm, I locked myself out," Angel said, squirming with embarrassment, her hands clutching the ends of her short skirt.

"Jesus…" He sighed and stood up, "Gaz, get her something to change into, and Soap, give her a towel and show her to the bathroom."

"You don't have to!" Angel quickly said, still dripping water next to their door, refusing to take a step in any direction.

Price gave her an unimpressed look, "Really? You're dripping water all over the floor and you'll get sick."

Angel pursed her lips and watched Price walk to the kitchen, turning on the kettle and preparing ginger tea for her.

Soap brought her a big towel, to wrap herself into and get to the bathroom, where Gaz handed her the smallest t-shirt he could find, a zip-up hoodie and a pair of shorts.

"I tried my best, I know none of this will fit but yeah-" Gaz mumbled, scratching the back of his neck and Angel smiled, shivering under the towel.

"Thank you, Gaz."

"No worries." He smiled and left her to change and dry up in the bathroom.

"Oh yeah," He stopped in his tracks and walked up to the bathroom's door, knocking twice, "Take a hot shower, you'll get warmer that way!"

"Okay!" Angel said behind the door, wrestling with her wet skirt to pull it down.

"Are you sure I need all of this?..." Angel asked, blowing on the mug containing the tea Price made her.

"Angel, shut up." Price sighed, sitting next to her on the sofa.

Angel was wrapped in a giant fluffy blanket, wearing military-grade warm socks, with a warm water bottle placed behind her back and a big mug of tea in her hands.

"Damn, alright…" Angel rolled her eyes and took a sip of her tea, feeling it warm her body from the inside out.

Gaz sat down next to Price, curling up next to him and this time grabbing the remote control, looking for something to put in as background noise.

Soap also came back down, but with Ghost this time, literally dragging him by the sleeve and making him sit down, curling next to him and throwing a leg over one of his ridiculously thick and strong thighs.

Angel noticed all of this but didn't say anything.

"So, how did ya lock yourself out?" Soap finally asked.

"I was rushing and forgot my keys," Angel said, already annoyed at how she would need to call someone to unlock her door for her.

"Went somewhere special? You looked nice." Soap said, making her smile.

"Yeah, I went for coffee with a friend. And I bought a new ring!" She said and stuck out her hand to show him.

Soap's eyes immediately sparkled with interest at the ring she showed him. Ghost glanced at him and at the silver ring she was showing him, and knew Johnny liked jewellery, especially silver.

Soap grabbed her hand and he leaned forward, "That's beautiful, where did you get it from?"

The ring was silver with small pink and purple rocks on it, forming a little skull, obviously mimicking the tag on Kuromi's collar.

"This store is 20 minutes away from here by train! They have so many things and almost everything is unisex! I'll send you the address if you want?" Angel said, excited to be sharing something she found with him.

"I dinnae have your number though?" Soap realised.

"Oh yeah," Angel was confused, with the number of times they've spoken and hung out, how come they don't have each other's numbers already?

"Alright, give me your number and I'll add you to our group chat so you can save their numbers as well, okay?" Soap said, taking out his phone and handing it to her.

Angel typed in her number and saved her contact under 'Angel 👹'

When she handed him back his phone he snorted, "What type of emoji is that?"

"It's a demon!" She said with a grin and he laughed, shrugging it off.

The conversation was light and easy, they talked about random mundane things until Angel’s attention was stolen by the TV, she stared at the big screen with her mouth open and forgot to finish her sentence.

She snorted, and Gaz tilted his side to the side, “What’s up?”

“That’s you, John.” Angel pointed at the screen, where a big brown bear was napping under a tree on its back. Gaz and Soap started giggling like school girls at Price’s expression. Ghost on the other hand let out a small snort and pulled at the strings of his hoodie, trying to hide himself from his captain.

Price leaned forward, putting his hands on his knees and squinting at the screen like an old man, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s literally exactly how you nap in the garden sometimes, and it’s cute!” Angel said, still laughing at his face.

“That’s not true, I literally have no idea what you’re talking about, the sun must’ve messed up with your head.” He said, shrugging and refusing to meet her eyes.

“John, stop playing, it’s you!” Angel whined, shaking his arm and making Gaz laugh harder.

“If I’m that bear, you’re that one.” He said, pointing at the TV. Angel glanced at the TV and saw a small cub falling on its face and getting a mouthful of dirt. She gasped at his audacity, “No, I’m not!”

“I have seen you almost trip outside when taking out the trash, 3 times already.” Price teased her, looking at her with a small smirk.

“And you laugh at a lady instead of preserving her reputation? How dare you, John!” Angel said with a hand on her chest and falling back on Soap with a hand against her forehead.

“That is not a way to treat a proper lady, John. Apologise!” Soap said, lower lip dramatically wobbling and cradling her head in his arms.

“I’ll think about it.” Price chuckled at their antics and Gaz gasped, “Oh my days, you’re actually the worst.”

“And yet, you still love me.” Price sighed.

“Unfortunately.” Gaz rolled his eyes and placed a kiss on the Captain’s temple before standing up and walking to the kitchen, to get himself a snack.

“I think your clothes should be dry now,” Soap said, opening the tumble dryer’s door and watching Angel bend down to inspect her clothes.

“They are, thanks.” She grabbed the clothes and placed them on top of the dryer, closing the door with one hand.

Soap watched Angel fold her clothes in a neat pile and her skirt caught his attention. It was a pretty short brown pleated skirt, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to run his hand on the soft fabric. Angel stopped and stared at Soap’s entranced and focused face.

“Nice, isn’t it?” She smiled and he snapped back into reality, retrieving his hand to himself.

“What fabric is that?” He asked and Angel just stared at him, “I actually don’t know…”

“Wait, maybe it says on the tag inside.” She exclaimed and quickly grabbed the skirt, flipping it inside out and frowning, when it was nowhere to be seen, “Oh shit, I must’ve removed it and forgot, sorry Soap.”

If there’s one thing Soap can tell you he likes about the woman, is that she dresses well. Her personal style is so cool and unique to him, every time she’s about to leave for work, he stops and admires her choice of clothes for the day. At first, it embarrassed him, how much he enjoys clothes and colours and fashion, but then it took years of working through internalised self-hatred for him to enjoy ‘womanly’ things without feeling like utter shit about it in the comfort of his own room. Thanks, Dad for the trauma <3

“If you want, I can try to figure out where I bought it from and buy you one? So we can match?” Angel asked, grinning and holding the skirt up in her hands.

Soap’s eyes widened a bit and he quickly spluttered, “No, you dinnae have to! Please, don’t bother.”

“You don’t like the skirt?” Angel’s smile fell.

“No, I do! It's just you dinnae have to bother buying me one, It won’t suit me.” He said, laughing and scratching his arm, no humour behind his laugh, if anything it was tainted with embarrassment and a hint of shame.

Angel’s eyes softened, “Soap, what makes you think it won’t suit you? Have you seen your thighs and tiny -excuse my language- slutty waist?”

Soap blushed bright red and barked out a laugh, “What the shite, Angel?!”

“It’s true! Don’t tell me Ghost has never told you this before?” Angel asked, tilting her head to the side.

Soap took a sharp inhale through his nose and slammed the door of the kitchen shut, “What makes you think he-”

“The man’s practically obsessed with your thighs, every time you sit next to him his hands glue themselves to them, especially when you’re wearing shorts. And I don’t even blame him, you have killer thighs. In my opinion, it’s a crime you have to wear trousers-” Angel said, waving her hands and the skirt around, and Soap almost died and closed her mouth with his palm before he could stop himself.

“Alright!”

“Hmm??” Angel hummed behind his palm, eyes wide.

“You want to buy me a skirt? Okay, just- just don’t–” Soap said, letting out a shaky breath and slowly removing his hand from her mouth.

Angel blinked up at him with big shiny eyes, feeling the borrowed shorts slowly slide down her hips. “Are you free next Wednesday?” She asked and quickly reached down the tie the short’s strings tighter to stop them from sliding down.

“Yeah, why?”

“Let’s play dress up at mine,” Angel said, grinning up at Soap.

“You want to-”

“Let’s hang out, and I’ll show you my jewellery collection,” Angel added with a small smirk, raising her brows.

Soap gaped at her like a fish, his mouth agape, and groaned, throwing his head back, “Fine, At what time?”

“How about 3 in the afternoon?”

“I’ll bring snacks.” Soap nodded, feeling an odd soup of excitement and anxiety brew in his stomach.

“Perfect, see you then, Soap.” Angel winked and grabbed the collar of his shirt, dragging him down to place a kiss on his cheek and happily skipped out of the kitchen.

“PRICE, CAN YOU UNLOCK MY DOOR NOW, PLEASE?” He heard Angel call out in the living room and leaned against the tumble dryer, glancing down at his thighs in his shorts. He chuckled and shrugged, “I do have killer thighs.”

Outside in front of Angel’s front door, Price was squatting in front of the lock, picking at it with some tool Angel has never seen before she gasped when a small click was heard and Price pulled the doorknob down, opening it.

Price stood up and turned to her, “Here we go, now go look for those keys, to make sure they’re actually inside.”

Angel raised a brow, “Should I be worried you can unlock my doors?...”

“No, why? Are you hiding something?” Price asked, with a hand on his hip, wearing a small smirk.

“Of course not.”

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @loveyhoneydovey @cutiecusp @pinkwigonmytv @mandythemint @itsberrydreemurstuff @tapioca-marzipan @fruitymoonbeams-blog @poohkie90 @chaoticevilbakugo @anubis-reed @thefairybird @skytacvia @marytvirgin @cynicalmnm @maechanexe @t0jis-worm @1800imgay @4ndjelij4 @multitargaryen @lilpothoscuttings @mysticalpandabear @silviafantin15 @marvel-ness @bobastayhigh @originalsimp @h-leighh @gxldyjess @msdrpreist @whore4dilfs

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sgiandubh · 5 months

Note

I respect your ability to logically analyze news and photos

What is your interpretation of the photos of Sam two years ago kissing the American model?

Would a woman like Cait accept this act from her partner?

Fatima from Morocco

Dear Fatima from Morocco (such a wonderful country and such generous people!),

You can even write me in French, si ça te chante et que c'est plus facile pour toi, but yes, English is the best for us, in here. And that was very thoughtful of you, thank you for this considerate gesture on behalf of everyone!

I suppose you mean this pitiful attempt of a paparazzi New York innuendo, featuring Monika Clarke, who quickly disappeared from view, too?

If this is passionate, then I am probably the Pope. This, my new friend, is a totally staged and totally botched damage control operation for what happened in August 2021, on a very sad occasion, somewhere in Ireland.

Nothing more, nothing less. But risky moments call for extraordinary measures, and The Boy, who once famously said he 'would do everything' for her and (a few moments later if that was not clear enough) also 'for love', obliged.

Is it shocking? Yes. Is it heartbreaking? Yes. But, Fatima, don't they say all's fair in love and war? And make no mistake, this pretty much sums up those last ten years, doesn't it?

As for C's reaction, it would be impertinent of me to infer. But if my very dense life has taught me just one thing, it would probably be the simple truth one could or should never judge what happens between two lovers. Also, we are dealing here with faith - not thermodynamics - therefore, I think she did accept it, for her own reasons and truth, we might never be entirely privy to. After all, a shitty Daily Fail article can't even compete with a Remarkable Week-end, isn't it?

Thank you for dropping by and welcome to my screen!

PS: Clarke is Australian, not American. An American woman would have behaved very differently, I think.

[Later Edit]: Our side is a very critical one and I was immediately reminded the Irish church thing happened in August 2022, five months later from the moment the New York pic was taken. And I now have to correct the circumstantial explanation and pitifully (but honestly) tell you that was during promo time. Also, nothing of the sort happened ever since and for good reason - that Irish episode.

Thank you to @jammf-moghaol, who gracefully commented and also to someone else (ya sabes y 😘).

#anon #shitshow

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gothhabiba · 5 months

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One thing that scares me about learning Arabic is that you have to choose a region that 'you're most interested in' and then learn the Arabic of that region. I feel like I can't, and don't want to, choose a region. I haven't ever travelled to the Arabic world, how am I supposed to choose whether I want to be able to understand the people of Morocco, Sudan or Jordan the most? It's really such a hard choice to make, especially because you have to make it relatively early on in your process of learning Arabic, if I understand right. Would you agree (as all the websites recommend) that it is best then to learn Egyptian Arabic so “everybody understands you“? I don't like this line of thinking so much because I'm coming to learn Arabic less to be understood and more to understand. It's just a hard thing for me and one that has put me off of starting to learn Arabic for a while now.

first of all phrases like "Arab world" aren't really beloved appellations, as many people in these regions are not Arabs and do not speak Arabic. many Moroccans came to speak an Arabic-derived dialect/language at home through a process of cultural conquest and may or may not consider themselves Arabs; others speak one of 3 groups of indigenous African languages. and there are also Kurds and stuff.

I can't speak for all Arabic speakers, but Egyptian Arabic is readily understood by most Moroccan Arabic speakers in part due to the fact that Egyptian teledramas and other programming is widely broadcast. a lot of Arabs (like, West Asian Arabs) make a big deal out of how incomprehensible they find Moroccan Arabic, but the thing is, part of that is probably genuine differences in the language and part of it is probably just racism (since Moroccan Arabic has been dirtied through its nature as an 'African' language yada yada)

I can tell you that I don't have much difficulty understanding Levantine, Egyptian, and Gulf speakers provided the Moroccan word I know for what they're saying is actually Arabic-derived (and not French or Tamazight or Spanish &c.). you just have to take all the vowels and half the syllables out of what they're saying and then you'll usually get it 😭

one thing that a lot of people recommend is learning Standard Arabic, and then learning a dialect from there. this approach is why you'll get people everywhere saying that Moroccan Arabic is the "hardest" dialect (that's nonsense, there's no reason for that to be true; what they mean is that it's the hardest to learn starting from a base of Standard Arabic, since it's allegedly the most different). however it's probably a good idea in general. Standard Arabic would allow you to read; to be broadly understood even if people think you sound like a newscaster; and understand most dialects once you get used to the pronunciation a little.

tl;dr: just pick something and start learning, I think you'll find that different dialects are more mutually intelligible than you might think

#Anonymous #questions

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notaspectator · 6 months

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part 4 of valorant hc's (i have too much to talk about this. please send help.) Viper does know who Omen was before whatever the hell happened that made Omen to what he is now. Viper will not tell Omen because Viper refuses to see them as the same person- in her attempts to move on and stop grieving for who Omen was, she refuses to let Omen even consider trying to go back. She knows it wont be the same. Cypher doesn't have any photos of Nora. His memories of her are fuzzy and contain certain smells, textures, and little things he remembers more clearly than the rest of it. Despite his best attempts to not forget, he doesn't really remember quite what she looked like anymore and it scares him deeply to think he's forgotten her. He thinks that it is a betrayal to her. Cypher really, *really* hates when its humid out. unfortunately for him, the VALORANT protocol is stationed on well.. an island. So, oftentimes, he's up at 6 in the morning stumbling blindly onto the helicopter to fly to a mission site while it is humid out. Cypher hates it mostly because his mask always ends up feeling damp and it is harder to breathe in. Omen often holds onto people when he doesn't want them to leave. This includes when another Agent dies in front of him. Oftentimes, since Omen is too cautious to take a fight he can't win, he ends up carrying one or two of the other agents (dead or fatally wounded) to the extraction site. Many of them appreciate this company, though the younger agents find it unsettling. It is an ironic little thing since Omen is most talkative and protective when someone is dying in front of him. Omen doesn't know why he does it; it is not a learned behavior. It probably stems from how he cannot stand to be alone when he is hurt because he can and will fall apart painfully. Cypher probably smells like a mix of spices and cinnamon. He cooks a lot for the others on his own time. He prefers for his room to smell similarly because it reminds him of his home. Cypher likes to whistle! He doesn't do it often, but he does whistle to songs he remembers hearing along the street. He stopped because the others often laugh about it when he does. Cypher has quietly sang under his breath over comms in the middle of a mission while aiming a gun to kill someone. It unnerves most of the others because Cypher uses it to focus before he ends a life. Omen often reprimands the duelists that gloat about their kills. He finds it vain and disrespectful to mock the dead, even knowing that they all will be revived in the end and will persist to fight again. He doesn't like the idea of becoming indifferent to death to the point of laughing about it, even if he cannot help but feel apathetic about the lives he takes. Cypher probably has his computer displaying everything in Arabic. this is mostly so that other agent's just plain can't understand what he's looking at. It frustrates the younger ones the most that they can't look over Cypher's shoulder at Cypher's phone and figure out anything relevant. Cypher only really uses his phone to text the other agents and look at cat pictures from time to time, or look up recipes from Morocco that he isnt so sure about. Omen likes to help with cooking. He isnt very good at cutting things up, but he likes to mix things together and to arrange them in preparation. Cypher often brings Omen to his room so they can cook together since Cypher misses rambling while he cooks. Since Cypher likes to taste it while he makes it, Omen just tries his best to not look at Cypher whenever he tugs his mask up to taste whatever they're stirring. Cypher doesn't bring the other agents back to cook with him because he only trusts Omen not to mention it. Sage has seen Cypher's face. its just,, unavoidable, seeing as Sage is a healer. Cypher loathes that fact, but trusts her nonetheless. He prefers to be alive with one person knowing his face than to be dead and left to be forgotten entirely.

#valorant omen #valorant #valorant cypher #valorant viper #omen #cypher #cyphmen #shadowire #valorant sage #valorant headcanons

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lambtotheslaughterr · 12 days

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The Taming : Part One

A Clark Kent Mini Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 6k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PROLOGUE | MASTERLIST | PART TWO

IMPORTANT NOTE* now that i have the 10 spots filled from the 500 followers celebration request opening, the taming will be paused. but i didn't want to get started on those before giving at least the first part to this series. so, please be patient as i complete those requests. i am way too excited about this new series & am antsy to get back to it.

An innocent yet coy smile appeared on your face as your three closest friends raised their glasses in your honor. The four of you were seated at one of the most sought-after tables in Luna Lounge, a fine dining restaurant at the top of one the tallest buildings in Metropolis with views to die for. The restaurant was dimly lit to ensure an intimate setting, the tablecloths were finely made & imported from Morocco, the head chef a Michelin renowned creator who hailed from Croatia. Most people made reservations at the restaurant a year or two in advance, but the four of you only made one an hour ago. It was power to have your name mean something.

“Happy birthday, baby!” Your oldest friend, Nicola, cheered as she clinked her glass of white wine against your own.

Ariana & Olivia in turn clinked theirs together in celebration. You smirked at your three best friends as their eyes caught your own. Friends like these were hard to come by. Of course, it helped that they were of the same class as you. Olivia was an influencer with over 5 million followers & she achieved this goal by learning the ropes from her public relations father. Her mother, an art director at one of the most sought-after art galleries in the city, inspired Olivia’s content to travel the world & model for famous artists alike. She was the muse of many. And she loved to use that to her benefit, stealing the hearts of men & women alike. But while she was a heartbreaker, she too was hardly ever single, couldn’t be. Olivia didn’t know how to be alone. It was her only flaw.

Nicola as well was no stranger to the finer things in life. Her world-famous architect father built the building the four of you were currently dining in & her mother was a former socialite from her younger days turned Pilates instructor for the rich & famous. A lot like Olivia, Nicola was in the social media field but she was only managed accounts of the up & coming influential. Everyone wanted Nicola as their manager. Yet she was hard to get to. Nicola was a complex character that could bounce back easily from being playful to dead serious & tough on her clients. No one knew which direction she would go in. Of course, except for you.

And then there was Ariana. Unlike the three of you who grew up in wealth, Ariana’s mother walked away from it. Your aunt, Ariana’s mother, was thick as thieves with your mother, but as she grew older she rejected the silver spoon lifestyle. She wanted a normal life. A boring life. So, she fell in love with a mere mailman & lived in a two bedroom in the Metropolis suburbs. But you never faulted Ariana for her mother’s choice. As soon as Ariana turned 18 & moved to the city to attend university, you took her under your wing. You moved her into your condo apartment & introduced her to the life her mother deprived her of.

But Ariana, even after four years, still struggled with the change. She was too shy, humble, non-confrontational. You almost pitied her, but never showed it. She looked up to you despite being a couple months older than you. It was a shame her mother kept her from a life that would make her as tough & confident as it had the rest of you.

Then there was you. Your father was a name that meant something in the medical field. You knew he was a pathologist but, did you know what that entailed? Absolutely not. You only knew he travel all over the world & lead the fight against cancer. It was admirable, sure, but boy, you thought it had to be quite mundane. Your mother, on the other hand, was a retired equestrian who competed in the Olympics & won all her events. Thanks to their successes, you were given everything you could ever want in life. Even men. But those you could do without. The only thing men ever did for you was act as a form of amusement. Your guilty pleasure.

The only people you needed in your life, apart from your parents & siblings, was the three girls at your table. They were the only ones who loved you unconditionally. Everyone else either wanted to be you, be with you, or loathed your existence entirely. You were a Metropolis princess blissfully living her life in her ivory tower. And as long as your three closest friends were with you, there was nothing the world could say or do to hurt you. They made sure of it.

Now, the four of you celebrated your 22nd birthday. Your birthday was always a night to remember. There was order to it. You always slept in to get your beauty rest & when you woke Ariana was there with your favorite black coffee, the beans personally roasted & imported to you from Colombia. After Ariana & you were served breakfast by your kitchen staff, the two of you would meet with Olivia at a famous luxurious spa for manicures, pedicures, deep soothing massages, all followed by the full body organic exfoliation glow package. Then Nicola would meet the three of you at your favorite bistro for lunch. After lunch, the four of you would go shopping for your birthday celebration festivities.

Tonight’s outfit’s were another for the books. All of you were impeccably dressed for dinner & then the club after. You wore a $300 dress that you knew you would surely only wear once. But the color & fit of the dress made you appear as angelic as you felt. And the cape-sleeve wool jacket you wore was $3000. It looked as divine as it felt. The girls wore dresses fitting to their personalities. Ariana wore a dress that you insisted on purchasing for her. It was $900 & only one of the few items in her closet that whose retail price was over $100, but it was to her French country style tastes. How could she say no? And she didn’t. Ariana never said no to you.

Olivia’s dress was less than $200 but the real money came from the 100% Alpaca wool coat she wore, a $1700 purchase. Nicola’s dress was $500 & framed her tall, slender body agonizingly so. She would be the belle of the ball. Which you were okay with. It was always between the two of you who stole the attention in the room when you both walked in, & as long as it was one of you, you were unbothered, your birthday be damned. Nicola’s birthday would be in a couple months, you would just return the gesture & outshine her. She would think it cute & devious. Just like you.

“Uh oh.” Olivia mouthed, turning her phone towards you. What you saw forced you to roll your eyes. “Andrew & Jane are at Club 22 tonight.”

“What a snake.” Nicola commented, sipping from her glass of wine, “You know she knows it’s your birthday. She just wants to get under your skin.”

“With your ex, no less.” Olivia added.

“Calling him my ‘ex’ is an insult, Liv.” You narrowed your eyes across the table towards her, “He was a quick & disappointing hook-up from high school. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Olivia giggled at that as she peered at the selfie Jane had posted to her social media account, “He likes to spin the story another way.”

“Yes, I know.” You breathed out, recalling how Andrew Wong used your alleged romantic relationship to land his first modeling gig. The designer was a fan of your mother & hoped to use you as the face for her debut collection that year. “But only those who matter know that all Andrew is to me was a waste of five minutes of my life.”

“Besides,” Nicola began, “everyone also knows that if _____ truly wanted him back he would bend over backwards like a circus clown to please her. Andrew Wong is Andrew Whipped.”

You made a face of disgust, “Can we not talk about him as if he was actually my ex, do you mind? I have better things to do tonight then talk about one of my fan boys.”

Olivia & Nicola shared a laugh at your reaction. But it was Ariana who softened the moment, like always.

“He is a nice guy, _____.” She stared at you with her doe-like blue eyes, “Would it be that awful to give him a chance?”

Nicola & Olivia traded knowing looks at Ariana’s suggestion.

You smiled softly at Ari, placing your hand on top of hers, “Yes, Ari, it would be. Andrew Wong is nothing but a wanna-be fuckboy with mediocre good looks.”

“I’d sleep with him.” Olivia pursed her lips playfully.

“You already have!” Nicola slapped her arm.

“I don’t remember it though!” She smiled in response.

“Ugh, have at him, Liv, but we both know you could do much better.” You reminded her. But Olivia always shot well below her worth.

Ari was silent as the three of you laughed jovially among yourselves. You eyed her, growing mildly irritated at her solemn energy. Clearing your throat, you eyed Liv & Nic, “Girls, Ari & I are going to the bathroom really quick. Meet in the lobby?”

“Oh?” Nicola raised her brows challengingly, “And whose footing the bill?”

The three of you cackled in wealth.

“The restaurant, of course!” You & Liv replied in unison.

“Ari.” You caught her eyes, nodding with your head for her to follow you. She quickly stood & followed after you.

Once in the bathroom, you shut the door & locked it shut. It was a communal bathroom but you didn’t want to be disturbed as you reminded her cousin of what being in your world entailed.

“I’m sorry, alright.” She started as she leaned against one of the sinks. You stood beside her, looking at yourself in the mirror.

“Don’t apologize.” You replied firmly, eyeing her in the mirror, “Women like us don’t know the word ‘sorry’.”

“You seem to always forget I’m not like you.” Ari mumbled, running her hands under the touchless faucet.

“Yes, you are.” You finally faced her. Then you took a step closer, “You could be even better than me if you gave a damn once in a while.”

She sighed heavily, shaking her head, “Have you ever thought that maybe I don’t want to be better than you? Or like you, in general?”

“No.” You quipped back, unbothered by her attempt to humanize you. “Because being me is…everything. Why wouldn’t you want that? Why wouldn’t anyone?”

Ari rolled her eyes before raising them to meet yours in the mirror, “Being rich & famous isn’t everything, _____.”

Now, it was your turn to roll your eyes. You bit your lip in frustration, turning back to stare at yourself in the mirror. You admired the blemish free glow of your skin, how your hair was perfectly kept, that the jewelry you wore tinkled. But the look in your eyes betrayed you. Fluttering your lids closed, you allowed yourself this one moment to sink to Ariana’s crudely middle-class behavior.

“I know.” You opened your eyes to look at her, “I know that, Ari. But it’s all I know. And I’m not ashamed of it.”

She smiled sadly, “I didn’t mean you should feel ashamed. Just, open your mind more.”

“I’ll try, okay?” You lied straight through your pearly whites. Pretending to be anything less than you were was a waste of your time.

“Maybe you can start by coming to visit mom with me one of these days.”

Alright. Middle-class thinking attempt aborted.

“Ari. No.” You hardened your eyes, “I’ve told you to not ask me that. Ever.”

“I don’t understand why you won’t see her! She’s family. She’s your family.”

“She’s a fucking fake.” You hissed, stepping closer to Ari. She stared wide-eyed at you, her whites beginning to water as you dug her mother another hole in the ground. “She ridiculed my parents publicly. Revealed the problematic nature of their marriage. Do you know how long it took my parents to recover from that?”

Ari parted her lips to respond but you cut her off, “No, you don’t, because your mother wrapped you up in bubble wrap & spoon-fed you lies about us. She is not my family. Do not ask me again.”

“Okay…” Ari whispered. “I’m sor—”

“Don’t. Apologize.” You glared at her.

The two of you stared at one another, though Ari’s was one full of regret. When she finally looked away, you inhaled sharply. Facing the mirror once more, you calmed your nerves down, shaking off the negative energy, “Now, can we have a good rest of the night? It’s my birthday, after all.”

“Of course, _____. Wouldn’t have it any other way…”

“Good.” You turned back to her before placing your finger under her chin & lifting her head to make her look at you. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes.

“Don’t cry.” Your voice softened but still carried the firm lilt, “Women like us don’t cry, either.”

Club 22 was at full capacity when the four of you arrived. It brought you great joy, though, as the four of you surpassed the line of people waiting to get in & walked directly up to the red rope.

“Denny!” Olivia hugged the 6’6”, 300 lb. bouncer that stood before the rope.

Denny, the bouncer who had been letting you all in since you were 18 & appeared intimidating to everyone who laid eyes on him, grinned widely, wrapping his large arms around Olivia’s thin frame.

“Evening, ladies.” He greeted all of you, “Your table is already set & ready for you in the loft lounge.”

“Thanks, Denny.” You raised onto your tip toes to kiss his cheek. He blushed like a schoolboy, “You’re a gem.”

“And you look like an angel, Miss. _____. Should I call in extra security to secure the boys in their keep their paws off?” He jokes.

You laughed in return, but shrugged, “Maybe. But the only prince I need to save me is you.”

Denny was one of the very, very few men outside of your family that you enjoyed. He was kind, genuine, & made it duty to protect the reputation of the club, & most of all, the four of you. He was also gay. So, you never worried about his thoughts growing worrisome towards any of the female population.

“You ladies have a good night.” He reattached the rope to the metal bar as the four of you approached the door, “And happy birthday, _____.”

“Happy, indeed.” You grinned back.

The inside of Club 22 was packed, but despite that, another bouncer led the four of you through the sea of people & to the stairs along the right wall. He unlatched the deep purple rope there & the four of you climbed. At the top, in the loft lounge, was three sets of private tables that overlooked the main floor of the club. The loft lounge even had its own bar. A waitress at the top of the stairs greeted the four of you before leading you to the furthest table. At the center of the table was a 3 liter bottle of Belvedere vodka. Your favorite.

“Awh, Nic.” You slinked your arm through hers, “You shouldn’t have.”

“Nothing but the best for my baby.” She kissed your temple as the four of you slid into the booths, you & Nic on one side, Liv & Ari on the other. The waitress was quick to remove the cap from the bottle & poured each of you a shot.

“If you need anything else, ladies, I’ll be nearby.”

“Thanks, Anais.” Nic smiled after her. Olivia followed her as well, but her eyes were filled with desire instead.

“God, Liv, you’re no better than our lesser sex.” You commented as Liv feigned innocence.

“What?” She laughed despite being caught ogling the waitress, “She’s beautiful.”

“She’s also a finance student at M.U.” Nic informed her.

“Oh.” Liv frowned, “Boring.”

Nic shook her head in disbelief but was still smiling. Grabbing her shot glass, she raised the liquor & the three of you followed suit.

“To a very happy birthday for my dearest friend.” Nic eyed you lovingly, “You are a good person, despite your appearances.”

You feigned offense but winked in return.

“And we couldn’t be prouder to call you sister. I love you so very much, & I would end the lives of everyone in this club if it meant you were happy.”

You saw in the corner of your eye as Ari’s eyes widened in concern at that. But Nic was joking. Ari knew better, & you didn’t have the energy nor time to remind Ari to woman up.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” You teased.

“We love you, girl!” Liv cheered, “Happy birthday!”

The four of you took your respective shots. The smooth burn of the vodka gave you chills & warmed your blood at the same time. You felt completely & totally in bliss. Tonight was your birthday. And you’d make the most of it.

Your birthday was going as perfectly as possible. After a few more shots, Liv finally convinced you to follow the rest of them down to the main floor to dance among the less fortunate. Most of the time, you were happy enough to dance against the loft railing, smiling wealthily down at those who wished they could be where you stood. But for tonight, you felt it was more important to dance with your girls & let loose, class system be damned.

Devilish by Chase Atlantic was blaring over the speakers as the DJ for the night remixed the music, making it slightly more club-sounding for the partiers. Liv was quick to find a man to dance with, who she shamelessly grinded against, & so you were quick to turn your back on the sight. You had given up a long time ago on leading Olivia down the anti-men path. She was a sucker for attention & most men were more than happy to give her as such.

So, it was you, Nic, & Ari dancing with one another as the music moved your bodies. Ari, finally, had loosened up thanks to the alcohol coursing her system. Her face was flushed but in all the right places, making her look like a perfect antique French doll. You reminded yourself you’d have to keep an eye on her. She was an easy target for the pool of predators in the club. Nic, on the other hand, took as much pleasure in turning her back on the men who attempted to dance with her as you did watching it happen. Nic, unlike Liv who starved for attention & Ari who didn’t know what to do with it when it happened, used it as only an example for anyone nearby who thought they could approach you all. It was your favorite thing about Nic. She was a girls’ girl, & tonight was her number one girls birthday. No man would be infiltrating the night.

That was until you felt a pair of hands on your hips.

The fucking audacity of these boys.

Spinning around where you stood, you were prepared to tell off the idiot who had the gall to put his hands on you when your eyes met familiar dark brown ones.

Andrew smirked knowingly, his eyes shamelessly casting the length of you.

“You look beautiful, _____.” He leaned closer to say into your ear as the music reverberated the whole room.

“I know.” You returned snarkily but gave him a winning smile, nonetheless.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asked, his hands trailing further down to your butt.

You were quick to snatch his wrists, “You shouldn’t have come over here without one.”

He licked his lips, hungry, but nodded, “I’ll be right back.”

When he disappeared among the sea of the people, you rolled your eyes & turned back to Nic. The look on her face revealed that she had seen the whole interaction. You leaned into her, “I’ll be in the loft. When Andrew returns, pour my drink on him.”

“It’ll be my pleasure.” She smiled devilishly.

As you turned to leave the floor, you snaked your hand around Ari’s wrist & dragged her behind you. She didn’t resist, still dancing as she blindly followed behind you. The two of you climbed the stairs to the loft lounge & returned to your reserved booth where your coats & clutches waited. There was still half a bottle of Belvedere left. Ari made to move towards it but you stopped her. She had had enough. Anymore & she would likely stumble into the arms of the worst kind of guy.

You spotted the waitress at the next table & raised your brows. She was quick to come to your table, “What can I get for you, ladies?”

“Water, please.”

“Right back.”

When she disappeared, you watched as Ari stood against the railing, dancing out of time with the music but she was happy. A wide smile on her face. It wasn’t often that you saw her smile that big so you didn’t care if others snickered at her dancing. She was, quite literally, living her best life. And who were you to stop her when you were only wanting just that for her.

You joined her at the railing. You stood proudly, overlooking the crowd below you as they all danced & only grew to be more drunk & as in bliss as you. It was the only time people like them could forget that they would never be where you stood.

A movement near the center of the floor below you drew your attention, & a coy smile appeared on your lips as you watched Andrew return to where Nic danced, two drinks in his hand. You watched as his mouth moved & Nic turned to face him. She accepted the drink before saying something in return. You knew she was only souring the blow she was about to deliver. Then, Nic raised the cocktail Andrew had brought over & poured it over his chest. His maude colored button up became soaked & three shades darker. He snarled at Nic, tossing his other drink onto the floor. The sound of glass breaking drew the attention of everyone.

Security was quick to circle your ill-fated high school hook-up & yank on his arms to haul him away. Nic only laughed as she watched him get pulled closer to the exit. She waved good-bye. Then Andrew’s eyes rose to yours, finding you perched on your throne. Though you couldn’t hear him over the music & distance, you knew well-enough he mouthed ‘fuck you’.

You blew him a kiss.

Your eyes returned to Nic’s on the floor & she winked up at you. Fortunately, Ari was too inebriated beside you to know what had just occurred, & for that you were grateful because you would’ve had gotten an ear full for being a ‘mean girl’. But you would, of course, argue that you weren’t mean. Just real. And silly little boys like Andrew needed to be reminded of the reality that he would never be good enough for you. No one was.

“Here’s your waters, ladies.” The waitress returned with two chilled glasses of water along with a carafe for refilling. You smiled a thanks towards her before she returned to her other tables. You snatched Ari by her wrist yet again & forced her to sit down. You handed her a glass of water, “Drink.”

She brought the glass to her lips but never stopped moving her upper body to the music. You were glad she was enjoying your birthday as much as you were.

While Ari nursed her hydration, you returned to the railing. Nic was still dancing by herself, feeling the music. But you had yet to see Liv. Your eyes searched the sea of people for her silk orange dress. However, as you did, your eyes met those of another.

He was sitting in a booth near the dance floor, but the booth was empty. He was the only one sitting there, & judging off how there was no sign of others sitting with him: cellphones left on the table, a bottle at the center of the table, thrown about coats, nothing of the sort, you wondered what the hell he was doing. And why the hell he was looking at you.

What threw you off most was that he was already looking at you when your eyes met his. Like he had been watching you. Normally that wouldn’t bother you. You were used to men watching you, longing after you, but he was different. Annoyingly so. He wasn’t smiling up at you in an attempt to draw you towards him. He wasn’t even eyeing you like he wanted to undress you. He was simply…staring. Watching. Like one does when they’re at a museum & are unimpressed by what they see so they just look at the barren walls in between art pieces.

His hair was dark, tussled & curling near his forehead. He wore a black button up, though the top three buttons were undone, revealing, even from this distance, a well-sculpted chest. To most, if not all, women he was a dangerously sexy man. The aura that surrounded him was without a doubt the kind that drew women like Olivia towards him. Yet there was no woman on his arm.

You were unable to look away. Your eyes locked on one another. But there was no desire or need you were picking up from him. And it was unsettling you. But you were never one to lose a stare down, especially when it came to the perfect stranger. If this man wanted to challenge you on your greatest strength, you were more than happy to show him that you weren’t intimidated by him. As you two continued staring at one another across a sea of people & a level in height between you, neither of you blinked. You had each other in a vice-like grip. And neither were letting go.

A squeal sounded behind you, breaking your reverie. You spun around as Liv appeared, having stumbled into the booth, an unknown male on her arm.

“Who the fuck is this?” You questioned, glaring hotly at the guy who had his cast over Liv’s shoulders.

“Um.” Liv pressed her lips together as she stared at the person in question, “Ethan?”

“Eddie.” He laughed, unbothered that a drunken woman couldn’t even recall his name. It was a disgusting name, regardless.

“Eddie.” You announced his name, stealing his attention, “Beat it.”

“What? But she—”

“And I say beat. It.” You repeated, crossing your arms over your chest.

Liv sighed by waved him away, “Thanks for the dance.”

Eddie glanced grossly between you & Liv, likely waiting for you to say, ‘just kidding’! But you were not a kidder.

He ultimately left but not before mouthing under his breath, “Bitches.”

You rolled your eyes, before eyeing Liv.

“What?” She shrugged, “He was hot.”

“His name was Eddie.”

“I don’t need to know their names to have a good night.” She returned playfully. She reached for the bottle of Belvedere but you smacked her hand, pointing at the water.

“We’re leaving soon. Drink up.”

Liv rolled her eyes but did as you told. It wasn’t unheard of for you & Liv to get into your tiffs but fortunately an alcoholic state of mind made her more suggestive. That was good for you, but bad for her & her taste in men. You were only looking out for her.

Ari & Liv fell into a light conversation that you couldn’t care to be a part of so you turned back to the railing. It was only then that you remembered being in a stare-down with that stranger. Your eyes flicked back to his table but it was empty. You then searched for him among the people but never found him. He was gone. You sneered internally to yourself. He had won. And being a loser never sat well with you.

The subway jostled as it sped through the underground tunnels of Metropolis. The car was packed with Friday night partiers as most were either returning home in a drunken fit or in search of a party that would continue to morning. But you were determined to get your girls home safe & sound.

Liv was sitting on a bench, her head resting against the window as she drunkenly slept with her mouth hanging open. You shook your head, your eyes meeting Nic’s.

“You sure you can handle her?” You questioned, holding onto a pole for stability as people moved to & fro within the packed subway car.

Nic rolled her eyes, “Yes, I already called my driver. He’ll be waiting for us at the entrance once we get to our stop. She’ll be in bed within 20 minutes.”

You nodded. As long as Liv went home alone. As long as man didn’t go home with her to take advantage of her.

Beside you, Ari loosely held onto a pole herself. She was sobering up at this point but still had reddened cheeks, evident of her night of fun. You watched her in the corner of your eye. Your own driver would be waiting for the two of you at your stop that was three after Liv & Nic’s. It was hell to get your driver’s down to the clubbing district on the weekends. The local law enforcement closed down multiple streets so bar & club hoppers alike could freely walk, stumble, fall across streets without worrying about getting maimed by another drunk driver. The city’s heart was in the right place, looking out for the regular civilians, but people like you & your girls needed your drivers. Because when you didn’t, you were forced to take the subway with the rest of the Metropolis population. It made your skin crawl but you had gotten used to it.

You checked the time on your phone & it was nearly three in the morning. You were looking forward to getting Ari into bed before taking a hot shower & crawling into your own. Tomorrow you would sleep for as long as you wanted before getting ready for another night out at the clubs.

“You have a good birthday, baby?” Nic asked, stealing your attention.

You gave her a closed smile, nodding, “Yes, darling, I did. Thank you.”

She scrunched her nose cutely up at you.

The subway shifted suddenly & everyone who was standing stumbled along with it. In your peripheral, you watched as Ari’s fingers slipped from the pole & she fell backwards. You threw out an arm to try & catch her but before you could, another caught her. Ari oof’d as she fell into the lap of a man sitting opposite you & your friends. He wore a plain black baseball cap that hung low, covering half of his face.

His hands caught Ari by the waist but she was sitting fully in his lap. Like a fucking kid asking for a gift from fucking Santa Claus. Your blood boiled over. You were quick to snatch Ari by the wrist & yank her upwards off the creep’s lap.

“Sorry.” She slurred, clinging to you as you pushed her backwards towards Nic.

“S’okay.” The man looked up to smile at Ari.

You glared past his thick framed glasses. He must’ve feel your stare because then shifted his eyes toward yours. You felt your heart hammer in your chest. The stranger from the club?! But he…

Your eyes cast down his body as he remained sitting on his side of the subway car. He wore a black bomber jacket zipped all the way up to his neck & a pair of plain black denim jeans. His shoes were all black as well. He looked normal. Perhaps a bartender one his way home from a late night. But when your eyes returned to his face, you continued to peer past his glasses.

He looked eerily like the man from the club, yet so different. You watched as his thick brows creased in confusion, “Are you okay?”

His questioned snapped you out of your inspection.

“Don’t touch her.” You bit out.

The man scoffed, returning your glare, “She fell into me.”

“I don’t care, keep your filthy hands off.”

“_____.” Nic voiced behind you. You whipped your head in her direction, “He was just helping.”

“Yeah.” You turned back to glare at him, “Helping himself to a handful.”

“Alright.” He raised his hands in defense, “I see where this is going. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t lay a finger on someone like you.”

“And what does that mean?” You stepped forward so you were standing directly in front of him.

“Means I can’t afford women of your stature.” He replied cooly, returning your stare from behind his lenses.

“You’re right.” You snarled, “You can’t.”

“Women like you cost much more than you’re worth for a night.”

The insinuation pushed you over the edge.

“We are not whores!” You yelled, drawing the attention of other late night travelers.

“Whatever you say.” The man responded, unfazed by your offensive stance.

“_____!” Nic said your name firmly, “Leave it alone.”

“This guy thinks he can call us prostitutes & get away with it.” You argued back but your eyes never left his.

The man stood then & you were forced to take a step back. When he was sitting down, he didn’t look to be so large. But when he rose to his full height, his head was only a few inches below the ceiling of the subway. He stepped closer, closing the distance between the two of you, his voice lowering, “I was calling you escorts. Classier.”

“You motherfuck—”

“_____!” Nic raised her voice, but something in her tone made you finally look at her. When you did, she nodded towards the rest of the subway train. You followed her line of sight & noticed how a handful of people had their cellphones out & were recording your heated debate with yet another perfect stranger.

The last thing you wanted was to have a video of you drunkenly fighting with a nobody in public & having it posted to social media with your username tagged. You would ever hear the end of it from your parents.

Swallowing the bitter taste of your anger, you backed down. But only for your parents. If it was just you & the man, you’d lash him with your tongue.

“Careful.” He said lowly, low enough for only you to hear, “_____.”

The sound of your name coming from his mouth made your spine tingle. You turned to glare at him but felt as Nic pulled you back to your side of the subway car. The man remained standing, his eyes never leaving yours.

The subway stopped then & the doors hissed open. The man reached behind him to gather a messenger bag he had left on the bench.

“Ladies.” He nodded once in your direction before making way for the doors. But as he did, he looked at you once more. And there it was. You saw it.

That same look from the man in the club. He was staring unfeelingly. And you were the wall between pieces of framed art.

It was him!

But as quickly as you realized who he was, the doors hissed closed & the subway began moving again.

You felt your heart racing, & sweat had began collecting in the pits of your arms. You shuffled out of your coat, tossing it into Liv’s unconscious lap, frustrated.

“Calm down.” Nic ordered as she still kept Ari tucked against her.

“I am.” You bit back.

“No, you’re losing it.” Nic shook her head, “Remember, women like us don’t lose control.”

You nodded but said nothing more, unable to trust yourself. Nicola was right. Women like you didn’t lose control. Not ever, not for a second, not even when having been drinking. But that man, that fucking perfect stranger, he made you lose all control. You felt jilted, made a fool of.

That would never happen again.

okay, my loves! part one to my new stalker!clark kent mini series. i have so much planned for this series & it's going to be a delectably good time.

as always, please share your thoughts w me. i especially need them with this first part so i know that i'm not the only one excited about this series lol. drop a comment, reblog w reviews, or talk to me in the ask box. i'm thirsting.

thank you for reading!

oona<3

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